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

by Russ L. Howard

  “For that blessing, I thank you my lord. But it now behoves me to render an account of my sojourn in the camp of the Scynscatha. I will leave out the superfluous for now, and render a full written report later. Of utmost importance I must warn you of what I know concerning traitors and treacherous plans.

  “Swan Ray, would you please excuse Sur Spear and me that we may talk privately?”

  “Surely, my love, whatever you wish.”

  When Swan Ray had left, Ilker declared the most important facts gleaned from his time with the Cha’Kal. He told the king of the slaves being transported from the south into New Port; the Cha’Kal’s intent to launch a pincer attack on Herewardi lands and Ur Ford, coming from Eugene in the north, and the Redwoods in the south; that the Cha’Kal was forming an immense navy, the ships being supplied by the Friscans, so that they could attack at sea as well as by land; and most painfully of all to Lord Sur Spear, that his son Melyngoch was possibly in cahoots with a shady character and a known Rogue spy by the name of Mik Kurtz.

  “From every conversation from which I could glean, it was indicated that they were hatching a plot to assassinate Sur Sceaf.”

  Sur Spear stared at the ground, frowning. “Melyngoch has disappointed me in several ways, but I do not believe it is in him to be a traitor. Nevertheless, I will prove him.”

  * * *

  Long Swan’s Log: It is the twenty sixth day of the Sun Moonth, the Ilmatars, or All Mother’s Day when the calendrical sigil of a bisected triangle flies on the banners at Witan Jewell to commemorate the Mother of All Living. I have been engaged with the prince apparent, Lord Arundel, in rounding up the flocks and herds for shipment to Godeselle.

  We have determined that once we get to the isle, we will run the wisents into their corals first, then the cattle, and finally the sheep, goats, and horses. He inquired whether we should ship more hay to the isle, but I informed him Xelph said there is ample forage and a vine he called kudzu that will sustain the animals very well.

  Sur Sceaf’s bride-sisters helped in gathering the flocks of the swans, geese, and ducks, chickens, pigeons, canaries, and guinea fowl. Now, they are packing up all their goods and placing them on their front porches by next Leofday, when I shall have the moving crews load them in the wagons for shipment to the isle.

  Until Leofday, I’ll be busy assisting Arundel in mustering the livestock and sending them out before us to the port at Ur Ford along with the Hickoryan drovers.

  * * *

  Long Swan’s Log: It is the twenty-ninth day of the Sun Moonth, 584 H.S.O., the Runic Half-Moonth of Rad when energies are channeled to get results. We are departing for Ur Ford to load up in the ships and sail for Godeselle.

  Relations between the tribes are still tense, as exemplified in the Quailor’s treatment of Mendaho, the young Sharaka woman. She has commissioned me to take Hartmut a letter releasing him from any ties to her, believing that the Quailor will shun them if they were to join. I pray the Isle of Ilkchild will give us a new start as a new people, that people may be as they wish, and live freely.

  Chapter 16 : The Settlers Arrive on the Isle

  Xelph’s Log: The fourth day of the Holy Moonth 584 H.S.O. It’s been a full moonth since Raven’s Tongue launched to sea to give report to Sur Spear and sue for aid to colonize this island. I have assumed temporary duty as Scribe under Sur Sceaf’s orders.

  Sur Sceaf has kept everyone busy with building barns, livestock shelters, and corrals. The hall has now been completed and is quite comfortable. The grass beasts and wyrm-kat’s have not bothered us since the night Herman wrenched the arm off one of them. As we go about our duties we’ve a sharp eye out for the tracks of the giant troll, but only Sur Sceaf has gotten a glimpse of its shadowy form in the bamboo grove. Apparently, the creature got a glimpse of him as well, for within the blink of an eye it disappeared crashing through the grove in the opposite direction.

  The land has proven to have deep soils and ample game. Kudzu thrives here. Wild herbs, fruits, and berries are plentiful. Hartmut has even managed to dry a quantity of fruits and berries. Land has been cleared and specimens of certain plants have been garnered in a garden for my studies. I continue to be amazed at the variety of useful plants growing on this isle.

  In the short time we’ve been here, we have become a tight band of brothers save for the Quailor Brother Fromer who persists in his oppositional and defiant stances, refusing to mingle with ‘infidels’ as he calls us. All the other men including his Quailor brethren consider Fromer to be a self-righteous prig and openly ridicule him. In fact, Hartmut Hagele has confided in me that he is ashamed to call Fromer a representative member of the Quailor community.

  On the bright side everything else is going well. We are all looking forward with great anticipation to the return of Raven’s Tongue and his crew. The Lord Sur Sceaf feels in his heart that his father will support this venture fully and is going on that assumption. The married men among us are eagerly looking forward to the arrival of their families. And Ilkchild, always the stud, anxiously awaits the completion of his honeymoon. Sur Sceaf has directed the crew to build Ilkchild a small double cabin next to where his manse will be built.

  Muryh, Mendaka, Govannon, and Sur Sceaf have firmed up the plans as far as the location of the fortress, the temple, the palace, the city-state, and the lay of streets, sewers, and canals. All that lacks are the craftsmen and laborers to put this plan into motion.

  * * *

  Sur Sceaf chatted with Ilkchild atop a barn roof that they were thatching. It was a bright clear day on the island. The sun beat down mercilessly. He called for a rest and took out his flask. He shucked his tunic and opened the flask of water, pouring it over his head and back, and letting the water run down his seathing body. Ilkchild followed suit.

  “What do you think of the brazier I had Herman fashion for a signal?”

  “It works very well, Fa,” Ilkchild said, “but I wonder why it is lit up there all alone and smoking up such a storm instead of blazing like it was last night?”

  “I place wet wood on it during the day and dry wood at night. That way this brazier causes a pillar of smoke to arise by day and a pillar of fire by night as a signal pilot to guide Raven’s Tongue and Turtle Duck back to the Shark-Wyrm Bay.”

  Ilkchild wiped the sweat from his brow, his long curly hair adhering to his face, and nodded that he understood. “So that’s what you’re taking to call the bay. Since we’re alone, I’d like to ask you a question that’s niggling at me. I understand why you feel we should settle here. As a fortress against the Pitters it is superbly situated, and I have no doubt the three tribes may flourish in this land of plenty,” he paused and Sur Sceaf prodded.

  “But,--”

  “But do you truly believe this is the sacred isle of Elrus’s prophecy? The one that says it will shine as a beacon for all the tribes of the ea-urth?”

  “I am sure it is.”

  “Because when my father thought he was the one appointed to be the Green Knight of prophecy, you saw how bad that turned out.”

  Sur Sceaf had sensed that something was gnawing at Ilkchild and that was why he had arranged for them to thatch the roof together. Even so, the question’s depth surprised him. “It is true that some prophecies have failed, but I am absolutely sure this is the sacred isle the Elves promised our people, the isle of safe haven. As we sit here I can look out and foresee a much brighter future for us than I have ever before imagined possible, and yet as I think back, everything was pointing to it. I foresee that someday, other tribes will gather and say ‘let us go up unto the House of the Syr Folk to receive their laws and their blessings that we may become like unto them’.”

  “When do you see that day coming?”

  “I sense that it is even on the horizon, son, and will soon be here on swift wings landing at our shore.”

  Several hours passed as Sur Sceaf and Ilkchild worked on thatching the barn roof. As they were about to finish tying the last bundles on the crown
they heard the whirring of the bull-roarer atop Copper Head Ridge.

  Sur Sceaf stood and looked toward the crest of stone top. “I told Coyote to signal if our ship was sighted. I am going to greet them. Go tell everyone to make ready as planned.”

  Sur Sceaf leaped from the roof. Ilkchild followed and said, “I will run and blast the Quailor Horn, so all may assemble from their fields of labor.”

  “Make it so.”

  As he came atop the Copper Head Ridge, Sur Sceaf sucked for his breath and looked across the deep. The sea looked like smoked glass. Coyote was standing just ahead and signed frantically, “Hundreds, all different sizes. Can it be these ships are all ours?”

  Sur Sceaf said, “Look closer to the shore. That is Raven’s Tongue’s mothership. See the black raven opening the clam? Like that flag, we’re going to open the shell of this island to receive its people.”

  As Sur Sceaf scanned the shimmering surface of the sea, he let out, “Holy Woses.”

  Coyote was right. What appeared to be hundreds, maybe thousands of boats floated like corks on the north horizon of the glassy deep. They were the thousands of ships of Herewardom. He had not expected Sur Spear to have sent so many, so soon. This, he realized, would call for more rigorous and critical planning, immediately.

  He shifted his gaze from the golden beach of the Shark-Wyrm Bay out to the silver sea glistening with sun crystals, then back to the beach. The bay did not appear to be capable of holding the approaching fleet all at once. Indeed it was all too obvious, these ships would take days to unload.

  Sur Sceaf said aloud, “Ahoy, there rides the hosts of the Isle of Ilkchild! We have to trust that that old Raven’s Tongue has a plan for getting all these boats in and out of here safely.” Then turning to Coyote said, “Go tell the others to prepare for a multitude. It appears Sur Spear has emptied Herewardom and sent us just about everybody.”

  Coyote’s eyes were wide. “I sure hope they brought their own food.”

  “If I know the Roufytrof, they have meticulously planned every detail and contingency possible.”

  He reflected as he watched the ships rolling in for some time before he made his way down the gorse trail. In short order he had run to the mouth of the sea cavern. Raven’s Tongue was still angling his sails for entrance into the bay.

  The sun beat down as he stood for a few moments watching. He decided it would be wise to cool off and wash up in the stream of the sea cavern before the ship landed. He hurried into the cavern’s dark coolness, where he heard unmistakable heavy breathing such as a horse makes after a gallop. The hair on the back of his neck rose and it felt as though ants were running up and down his spine. He caught a flash of movement out of his left eye.

  Turning quickly, he unsheathed his elf blade and saw the mighty troll, covered with reddish brown hair and far bigger in appearance than anyone had expected. It had to be the giant man-beast whose foot prints they had seen by the groves. His entrance into the cavern must have awakened it from slumber.

  Its eyes were a combination of hellfire and primordial wildness as they rolled like big white balls in their sockets and came to rest squarely on him. Slowly he prepared his blade for the fight. The teeth flashed white. He thought, Hell, what have I gotten myself into?

  The teeth of the hell-fiend looked enormous as its mouth opened wider for a scream. In the dim cave light its massive muscular frame alone commanded immediate submission as it towered above him. It stood fourteen feet or more. Terror filled Sur Sceaf’s mind and froze him to the ground as he gripped his sword in one hand and his elf blade in the other. Just as he thought he must die, the beast let out another deafening paralyzing scream before exploding from the cave, where to Sur Sceaf’s total astonishment it scrambled up the cliff like a squirrel climbs a tree and disappeared.

  Still shaking, gripping his sword gripped like an anchor, Sur Sceaf stared at the spot where the beast had climbed the cliff, his thoughts tumbling one after another. It had not killed him. Certainly he could not have matched its strength and power alone. It had almost behaved as if it was afraid of him, and yet, from what they had observed, the grass beast and wyrm-kats gave it such wide berth as if they were fearful of it. He decided he would discuss this with Old Grokk to get his opinion for it defied his understanding.

  Fully recovered, he sheathed his weapon and abandoned his plans to bathe as Raven’s Tongue’s ship had already anchored out in the bay and were dropping its porter boats over the side. He went down to shore and greeted Raven’s Tongue exiting a porter boat. Turtle Duck’s ship, the Overo, was parked just behind. Long Swan accompanied Raven’s Tongue and Turtle Duck’s porter boat followed. As they touched shore in the porter boats, Sur Sceaf said, “I see you all were successful.”

  “You, might say that my lord.” Turtle Duck said.

  His son, Degataga tugged at Sur Sceafs arm, “Lord Pyrsyrus is porting right behind us. He is escorting your ladies and children who are all eager to see you again. The king has commissioned him to build a port here patterned after the great seaport of Sand Wand.”

  * * *

  The day after the first settlers landed, Sur Sceaf awoke early to the bellowing of a wisent bull. He had been asleep in his tent with Paloma cuddled up next to him and the stirring of the sheep and wisents in the corrals awoke him from sweet slumber. Still sleeping, Paloma, looked well pleased and content, almost as young as she was on their first night together. Yet it was not alone for her beauty he loved her. It was for that empty space in his heart that she always filled. She lay there as slender as a white birch with her perky, peerless breasts which made it so difficult for him to pull himself away. She was always known for her intelligence and constancy, and a woman of sterling virtue. There lay a good faery-queen. He leaned over and gently kissed her on the cheek wishing this moment didn’t have to end. She stirred, stretched, opened her eyes, and smiled back at him with love.

  “Good morning, my love. I scarcely believe my eyes that you are here,” Paloma said. “It was so wonderful to have my man in my arms again last night. Can it really be morn so soon? And must you be off already?”

  “I fear it is so. The larks are on wing and I am already late. But it was as a dream when I saw you and your bride-sisters coming toward me on that porter boat yesterday. I thought to burst with happiness. I did not expect you to be sent for many more weeks. So now we must compress our plans and lengthen our strides.”

  “You of all people should know your father strikes like lightning. He will have this isle settled before the Pitters can react. Fortunately, we have Long Swan to thank for his organizing and orchestrating the move so quickly. It was thoughtful of you to send him to us. Lana was especially grateful. You know how she hopes to spark a romance between Brekka and Long Swan.”

  “And did it work?”

  “No signs yet, but Brekka is impressed by him. You know the gods sometimes mutter their answers. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “I must tell Lana not to get her hopes up. Unlike my father, my brother does not make quick decisions.”

  “My lord, I see the crew has brought in my cooking gear. Would it please you for me to make a breakfast?”

  “I wish I had the time dear. I’ll just eat with the crews.”

  “I understand. I wish this could last so much longer, it seems like we just went to bed.”

  “Well, you must eat. You’re looking a little gaunt.”

  Pulling himself from the cozy warmth of Paloma he waited for his rearing manhood to calm down before exiting the tent. He smiled back at Paloma with love then said, “The people are going to need direction, dear. I would love to stay.” He bent over and kissed Paloma one final good bye, “I must be about my labors and assess what needs to be done and besides my crew will already be eating and waiting for me.”

  “Well, the bride-sisters decided to tent with you according to marriage order rather than drawing sticks for you. So expect Lana to be in your tent tonight.”

  “That works
for me. I cannot tell you how my heart swells with joy to look upon the lovely face of my grand mother, the beauty and excellence of my wives, and the joy stirring faces of all my children. I wonder what the elves are doing in the heavens, for it surely cannot be any better than what I am now living, but, alas, I am off. Must set my face to my labors.”

  “And I, too, shall be busy sorting all of our gear as the crews bring it up from the ships.”

  He squeezed her hand, but didn’t say anything, then opened the tent door and hurried along.

  Upon his exiting the tent the smell of the sea breeze was pleasant, mingling with the fragrance of the dewy grasslands. He looked over at Pyrsyrus’ palatial tent with pigeon crates just to the side. There was no sign of his brother, but Pyrsyrus had evidently just released the pigeons for Witan Jewell as they were circling overhead, ready to home and announce safe arrival of the settlers to Sur Spear back at the Shepherd Hall. Sur Sceaf’s son Arundel was over by the recently constructed corral checking on the condition of the sheep. He waved and walked over to him.

  He took pride in his tall, broad-shouldered son knowing he had great expectations that he would be the next king of Herewardom. Arundel was everything a Herewardi warrior should be and the secret pride of his father. He was grateful for the reports of Ary’s stewardship which Paloma said he had carried out so well.

  Approaching the tawny haired youth, Sur Sceaf said, “Greetings Arundel, my firstborn, and the beginning of my strength. Because of you my household has been held together through all my treks, trials, and tribulations. Well done, you good and faithful son. Thank you for being such a good shepherd. I assure you it’s the foundation for being a good leader. And if your record is any indicator, I predict great things await you.”

  Arundel had a gleam of pride in his eyes as he smiled at his father. “Father, I cannot wait to explore this isle.” Staring in rapt attention at white capped Mount Elflohana, he added, “It’s a totally new world! I can’t even imagine what lies ahead out there, but it calls to me. There’s just something about it that tugs constantly at my heart. Some compunction to go and find out what it is that pulls me so.”