The Isle of Ilkchild (The King of Three Bloods Book 4)

by Russ L. Howard

  The child growled back, “I said, I’ll find the stones.”

  “Keep your grimy hands away from my possessions. Hell, the only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because Zorn has his queer fancies for twins. Soon as I find a suitable valet, you can go to hauling firewood and drawing water. You damned little pest. That’s all you are, a son of a whore. Some damned beast killed the only good valet, I ever had.”

  Wose watched as the young boy flinched and showed defiance in his stare, but wisely chose to say nothing more.

  “Well, what are you doing? Get your wretched little ass moving, Zoot. And when you come back, bring me my damned ’noogs’ before I go crazy.”

  Wose returned to his base camp, wrote messages and sent the pigeons off saying he had located the Cha’Kal’s camp and found from five to seven legions already there with the Cha’Kal expecting to be joined by the Skull Worm and an additional sixteen legions, along with six Growling and four Vardropi legions.

  As Wose bedded down for the night he chuckled silently that the Cha’Kal no longer had Butter Nut to do his bidding. Then he thought, the boy, though young, would be a great source of internal information, if he could but somehow win the child’s favor.

  * * *

  After a hearty dinner at the newly and hastily constructed hall, the night began with song and story-telling around the fire. The men were tired and didn’t tell as many tales as usual. They had put some extra timbers over the hole in the roof where the stone fireplace was only a fourth finished. Finally, Sur Sceaf bedded down with his men in their traditional covey style.

  He had just began his nighttime prayer when all at once a cacophony of coyote sounds followed by cat calls and caterwauling of the wyrm-kats filled the night air, as if someone had sounded a call for a night party. Soon the panther cries were all about the hall. Scratching was heard along the walls followed by scampering on partially thatched and rough hewn planks of the roof above.

  Red Fox said, “I guess there to be four of five or up there, but they’re moving too fast to get a good count.”

  Elf Beard groaned, “I hope to Hellheim, they don’t keep us awake another night. If only I had my hounds, I’d teach them bastards some proper manners.”

  “Oh, for the sake of Os, what’s that foul odor?” Muryh asked, pinching his nose and squinting.

  Sur Sceaf said, “Just like on any panther hunt, they are warning us off.”

  Old Grokk belted out as he shook his fist towards the ceiling, “Bastards! You wouldn’t be pissing on us if Chalk Dog were here.”

  Sur Sceaf signed, ‘Engage in combat’, and shouted, “Enough is enough, let’s show these demonic trolls once and for all we are the new masters of this land.”

  The bowmen took up their bows and those with knives stabbed at the trolls through the unfinished slits in two of the walls, finding immediate targets. They drew back their blood drenched kukri blades. Shrill screams reverberated in an assault on their ears.

  Xelph waved his bloody blade, “Practically everywhere you thrust there is a hit. There must be hundreds of trolls out there.”

  Zrael gave blasts from the Quailor horn to generate more alarm. Some of the men even used the whaling spears to impale the were-kats, pulling them back against the logs to dislodge the harpoons for another go at it. Because it was a moonlit night, and they could see for a distance, archers bent their bows. Arrows hit several of the kats on the roof. Other wyrm-kats got to feel the sting of the elf blades when they reached through the cracks. Soon the trolls were backing off the walls of the hall and screaming. Others fell from the roof like bugs off a hot griddle. All went silent for ten or fifteen minutes. When no more attacks were forthcoming, the men cleaned their blades.

  Far off cries were still heard, probably from wounded wyrm-kats. Muryh said, “Well, we’ve taught them a lesson. I don’t think they will be back for any more.”

  “Would that that were true, master builder, methinks that was only their first wave to test our defenses. It was too coordinated for them not to have a back up strategy. We should brace for another attack,” Sur Sceaf said.

  Elf Beard declared, “Once I saw the foreheads of these wyrm-kats, I knew we weren’t dealing with a dumb animal, but with a thinking beast.”

  As if on cue, another surge of attacks came with a fury of screams and clawing. Herman spotted a wyrm-kat climbing through the smoke hole and fended it off with a pole. Another troll reached through a space in the wall near where he stood and sliced him viciously across his back. Herman cried out, whirled around and latched onto the wyrm-kat’s arm before it could be withdrawn. With his powerful blacksmith hands he fastened firmly onto its hairy clawing hand, giving it a vicious twist. The joints of the kat’s arm began to crackle and pop as he utterly wrenched it from the socket, snapping the sinews and tearing muscle into long strips of meat, sending a spray of blood gushing through the air. With one final twist and jerk the last tendons and ligaments gave way. Herman had pulled the beast’s arm completely off. Either this was the top kat, or the screams were so horrific, that it sent the surviving wyrm-kats scurrying off with what almost sounded like human cries of alarm. They gradually retreated into the far distance.

  An awe hushed the hall at the sight of Herman’s feat. As soon as the sound of the wyrm-kat’s flight faded, Herman took a hammer and a large spike and nailed the freak’s arm to the lintel.

  The hall reverberated with, “So mote it be!”

  Along with the others, Sur Sceaf was amazed at such strength. He thought he must have dreamed it, so otherworldly did it strike him. This only emphasized his belief that Herman would make a great addition to his fyrd. With his enormous height and musculature, he would look like a blood elf. He could imagine Herman clothed in a fyrd uniform of red surcoat with wake knots running along the collar down the front lapels displaying the golden honey bee buttons and on his back the mirrored letters F that formed the large black flying H. There is the epitome of a fine warrior.

  Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought so. “I tell you, Surrey,” Govannon declared, “He is the Bee-Wolf, reborn if ever there was one.”

  “The gods have spoken!” Sur Sceaf said. “We have our answer in this omen. The field tells me it is the will of the Lord Elf Almighty to show us a foreshadowing. That we Syr Folk shall wrench and sever the arm of the wicked that come against us to plague our peace and afflict us with sorrow.”

  “So mote it be,” they all shouted. That is, all but Fromer who crawled under a blanket and covered his ears.

  After most of the men settled back down, Sur Sceaf tapped Herman on the shoulder and said in a whisper, “Herman, may I have a word with you?”

  “Certainly, my lord.”

  The giant stood up and walked over to an open space with Sur Sceaf.

  “Herman,” Sur Sceaf said, “I do not think I’ve ever been so impressed with a warrior’s might as I am with yours this night. I want you to pledge in my fyrd. Would that be something you would consider?”

  “My lord,” Herman said, “I’d be honored. I would greatly value the camaraderie I see thy fyrd members display towards one another and as thou know I am a pariah in the Quailor community.”

  “It is good. I will put your name forth for selection and examination. The investigating committee will take my recommendation very seriously and then we’ll bring you in for initiation after it has been put to vote. I do not foresee any problems. I’m looking forward to your taking your seat as a full brother in our ancient fraternity.”

  * * *

  More than a week passed in which they labored to clear brush with their kukris, lay out settlement allotments, make tools and nails, and work on corrals for the soon to be arriving livestock and settlers.

  Elijah had finished preparing the fire for breakfast. With everyone assembled, the blessing prayer was concluded, and Yellow Horse asked, “What will we be doing for labors today, my lord?”

  A patchy fog hung over the land, blotting out Mount Elfloha
na.

  Sur Sceaf directed, “I want more corrals built.”

  “How do you want them built?” Muryh inquired.

  “Make them horse high, hog tight, and bull strong. And Elijah, you can take the day in baking some of those fine breads you’re capable of. There’s going to be some hungry men at the end of today. And I need two young bloods to maintain a signal fire.”

  Govannon had erected a tent for keeping his tools and plans, to which he went to fetch the staples and nails.

  After breakfast, Sur Sceaf sent Fairchild and Sunchild up to Copper Head Ridge to watch for the return of Raven’s Tongue from the sea cliffs. They were to build a signal fire and blast the Quailor horn if a ship were spotted. Then he retired to the tent with Mendaka and Muryh, where they gathered around a rough hewn table. Muryh lifted his satchel to the table and laid out numerous drawings and etchings. The master builder had already developed sketches of plans for waterworks, cisterns, storage basins, ponds, aquifers, and aqueducts.

  Mendaka said, “You have been very busy. I sometimes wonder what all goes on inside that head of yours, master builder.”

  “Dak, the swan is stirring her nest. It’s the time of the season to hatch out the eggs of the next and rising generation.” Muryh took out a pencil and laid a couple sheets of paper before him. “My lord, before we proceed, I need to know, are we setting aside our plans for building the city-state at Ur Ford?”

  “I must confer with the high lord, but it is my belief we shall. In any case we can proceed with the idea of building a fortress and outpost here. The rest will depend on the king’s response.”

  “Well, I know your father better than you. If we’re here and this is to be made into a strong hold,” he pointed with his measuring stick to a rudimentary map, “then we best get started on laying out the basics; places to live, barns, pens and corrals.”

  Picking up a pencil, Muryh began sketching, “I suggest we begin with the manor and the great hall as soon as the craftsmen arrive. It won’t do for the lord of the isle to have his wives living out of tents. Since you already assigned that task to Hickoryans, I will focus my attentions on the laying out of sewage and water systems. That must be complete before we even begin building on the stone top.”

  Sur Sceaf nodded, “I know you too well Muryh. You think to distract me with the manor, so you can build the city. Your vision is far greater than this embryonic settlement calls for, but once we are rooted as a settlement, I will turn you loose as master builder. Then your hand will be free to raise us up into the heavens with temple, palace, and fortress. You go ahead and design the water and sewage systems for now, get me a list of the craftsmen you will require, and in the meantime, if Long Swan persuades the king, and the king gives his stamp of approval, I will need to set up basic cabins and water systems for the settlers in transition camps before we send them to their allotments. I will need you and Mendaka’s help in laying out these allotments.”

  Mendaka announced, “When Raven’s Tongue was here, he believed that our winters here will be a great deal milder than they are on the main land due to the warm ocean currents that flow this way. Though it’s something we cannot fully count on.”

  Muryh pulled out a sketch of the fortress and was beginning to describe its precise location when they were interrupted by three blasts of the Quailor Horn, the agreed signal that a ship had been sighted out in the bay. Rushing out of the tent they looked up on the stone top to see if there was a signal. Muryh shaded his eyes against the early morning sun and read the smoke signal.

  “Apparently, they’ve spotted a ship approaching. It is larger than the Raven and at a great distance.”

  Mendaka said, “How is that possible? None of ours is due yet.”

  Muryh said, “Don’t ask me, I’m a builder not a sailor.”

  Sur Sceaf beckoned Coyote to his side, “You are a far-seer. Go atop and tell me what manner of ship the young bloods have spotted?”

  Coyote took off at a run, while Sur Sceaf announced to the men, “Be on alert. A ship has been spotted far out to sea. Keep your weapons close at hand.”

  The three of them returned to the tent. Muryh said, “Unless it’s one of Raven’s Tongue’s ships, I can’t imagine anyone else being this far out.”

  Mendaka cleared his throat, “I guess we’re just going to have to wait and see.”

  They were discussing the placement of the gates for the fortress. Sur Sceaf declared, “I want the north gate to be facing the gorse trail. It will be the strongest gate and most likely the only gate that would come under attack.”

  Muryh declared, “That is a good suggestion. That is what I did at Fort Rock. The one massive gate on the south has held up under every attack the Pitter legions could afflict the queen with.”

  They worked for more than an hour on ideas for the H gate when Muryh began sketching another one on his pad. Coyote arrived somewhat winded to report. “My lord, from what I was able to see, that ship appears to be similar to Mexus design and the people on board were clothed in Mexus attire. At first, I could not tell for sure, but then I saw that it flies the colors of the feathered sea serpent.”

  Sur Sceaf was astonished. “That would surely indicate that it is Mexus. Or someone wishing us to think they are legitimate Mexus merchants. It would be unusual for a Friscan ship to travel this far out over the bend in the sea, let alone a Mexus ship.”

  Mendaka said, “I smell a rat.”

  “It it highly unusual, but it is possible they were coming to get more whale oil, but I doubt it, because while at Ur Ford we already informed the captains that we wouldn’t have anymore for sale for at least another moonth. And what Mexus captain would dare cross the bend in the sea and come this far out into the great deep.”

  “Well,” Coyote said, “maybe they didn’t get the message or it is possible this could betoken a new threat.”

  Sur Sceaf said, “Your concern is well taken, some Mexus are very friendly and have the same love of freedom as we do, but others deal heavily with the Pitters and in some areas of the Mexus Lands there are now cities completely under Pitter control. Whenever one deals with the Pitters, you must always suspect anything can happen. Should we see another Mexus ship, we will alert Pyrsyrus with a pigeon of possible danger and he can investigate it.”

  Muryh said, “Maybe this isle is not as secret as we originally thought.”

  Chapter 15 : Reporting to the High Lord Sur Spear

  Jesse ben David’s Log : Today the whaler called the Raven arrived in the Port of Ur Ford with six members of the two crews that left for the sea. Excitement ran through the whole community. They were bearing great tidings of the discovery of a fertile isle in the midst of the Aurvandilean Sea. Rabbi Amschel met them and Lord Pyrsyrus was called to join them.

  In a closed meeting at the synagogue, the seamen put several extraordinary hides on display and told of how they had come by them. The Rabbi identified a grass beast as one of the creatures of the far north, but no one had seen the likes of what the whalers were calling wyrm-kats before.

  After the meeting in the synagogue we made departure from Ur Ford and I rode much of the way gleaning the news of the isle from Long Swan. He told of how Lord Sur Sceaf scryed what the isle was like from the sea chamber and when they climbed up the cliff to see the land, it was just as he had described from the stones.

  * * *

  It was three days after the welcome home celebration of Ilker that a summons came once again to Namen Jewell to attend a special meeting at the Shepherd Hall. As all of Sur Sceaf’s wives hurried off to Shepherd Hall together, Taneshewa asked, “Do you know why we are being summoned to Shepherd Hall for news from Surrey? I can’t help fearing there may be something amiss.”

  “You can be assured I never keep secrets from my bride-sisters,” Paloma answered. “I would tell you if I knew. It’s a total mystery and out of the ordinary for me as well. I’ve been through it a hundred times in my marriage to Surrey and I can never get used to thinkin
g the worse.”

  Swan Hilde asked, “Have any of you had any dreams or premonitions about Sur Sceaf?”

  No one spoke up.

  “I was about to ask you.” Taneshewa said.

  Swan Hilde said, “I’ve had dreams, but only of a pleasant nature. Still, Ethelflaeda had dreamed before our men departed that she had seen Ilkchild falling into a dark tunnel that was swirling with bone slivers and panther cries.”

  As the guards opened the now familiar mighty oaken doors, Taneshewa was once again amazed at the brightness that emanated from the Shepherd Hall by reason of the many sconces and torches. The Lady Redith was already present and talking to Mahallah and Ethelwynn. To the east she saw the Roufytrof were all seated and clothed in their Saxon green, aubergine, and white cloaks.

  Quietly, the bride-sisters all hurried to their customary seats in Sur Sceaf’s valley. Taneshewa eased in between Paloma and Lana. In front of them sat Sur Spear’s wives. The high king was already seated on his golden swan throne. He emanated such power and confidence and a certain fatherly assurance very much like Taneshewas own father.

  While the other participants were still streaming in to take their places, she looked out the window at the round stone tower that acted as an outlook or keep and also as a star marker for the seasons of the Herewardi calendar. The Herewardi believed that these towers made the fields and forest more fecund. She placed her hand on her tummy hoping and believing she might just be pregnant.

  Finally, everyone seated and the doors were secured. Intense silence settled over the assemblage.

  Redith offered the customary prayer. When she finished, Sur Spear stood up with his swan staff in hand, and rapped it on the floor as the signal that all must be seated. He walked over to the dais after the customary opening. His voice was deep, resonant, and had a magical tone to it as he said, “O ye, o ye, o ye.” He paused. “This is a special convocation.”