Muryh inquired, “Is that the end of the island?”
“No,” Sur Sceaf declared, “Flammalf says the land stretches half again as far beyond the rock escarpment he saw from the sea and continues at least as far to the south as it does to the north.”
Elijah looked excited, “That sounds like the ideal land for we Quailor.”
Sur Sceaf thought for a moment. “Perhaps, but it would also be good land for the Hickoryans. They are to be the road builders and what better place for them than the center of the land.”
Mendaka said, “But look at how long it took them to get to the great rock barrier. If we ever came under attack, the Quailor would be too vulnerable there to pull in to the fortress.”
“Mendaka makes an excellent point. At present we don’t have enough fyrds to station away from the populated portion of the land to protect you.”
Elijah nodded, “It does make good sense that we should be in closer.”
Sur Sceaf said, “I will propose this to the Laird and if he accepts, they can begin their moving right away and that will take some pressure off the city for the wintertime.”
Mendaka added, “It will also plant a well-trained cavalry in the center of the land upon which we can draw from in any direction.”
Sur Sceaf picked up the other scout report. “Snake Horse and the young Ruhm Lee scouted the lands to the west of the River Mahallah and they report it is composed of deep forest that wraps around Mount Elflohanah with grassy downs following the river. They say all the land south of the forest is a series of ridges of high chaparral running lengthwise north and south.”
Mendaka declared, “The woodlands along the mountain sound perfect for the Sharaka. Was there any mention of a lake?”
“I’m sorry, they did not mention a lake, said the forest actually becomes jungle the closer you get to the mountain and they found it virtually impenetrable. But with all that snow melt, me thinks there has to be a lake in there.”
Elijah said, “Those grassy downs would be perfect for cattle, sheep, and goats.”
Sur Sceaf nodded, “Also, you will have the dog soldiers at your back.”
“With your permission, my lord, I shall present this to the Council of High Priests.”
“You have my permission and I believe it would behoove us all to start moving in that direction.”
Mendaka declared, “My lord, I have been authorized by Onamingo to make any decision regarding our settlement, and I approve this plan.”
They said in unison, “Haem. Shape it so.”
They were interrupted by a group of singers and harpers heading for the dock to greet the newly arriving group of Herewardi from the Zamoran Realm. Leaving Zamora exposed with nothing but a skeleton colony at best who elected to gather in their harvest and bring it at a later date. The minstrels lifted Sur Sceaf’s heart much, for he knew they would travel throughout the land delivering their sweet message of harmony, joining forces, and peace to all the newly planted communities.
“There,” he said, “those singers are the lubricant between the grinding out of all our diversities and points of friction. I’m inclined to think the poets and singers give us the most inspiration of all. It is they who exalt the spirit of man the most.”
Muryh nodded, “Well, that’s all true, but you’ve still got to have a place for the poets and skalds to live and flourish.” He grinned and said, “Speaking of which let us go to the highest spot here on Stoney Top and I’ll show you my plans for a water reserve and after that let’s quaff our thirst with a krug of Govannon’s ale.”
Chapter 24 : Copperopolis
The Big Springs Zonga sat at the top of the Shenandoah Valley in the Firginias. Built above a series of great caverns, this Zonga was the emperor’s most formidable bastion. The fortress walls rose above these caverns some thirty feet above ground and sat perched high on a hill. From its parapets one could view the entire countryside in all directions. It had been built by his father on the bones of slaves. His father had chosen this place under the direction of Angrar, as related to him by the Blind Seer Katus. Before his father had passed, Hrye Seath had procured a massive bamboo bloom that resulted in a tremendous swell in the population and now he had multiplied legions and felt driven to send them west.
It was from this Zonga Hryre Seath would unleash his ungodly horrors upon the earth, for Katus had told him it would be there that he would make his last, but triumphant stand. Not only did Katus have visitations from the Angrar, but he alone had visitations from the Dark Elves in this chamber. It was there that Angrar gave Hryre the power to rule and through Katus, the events to come were relayed to him, so far, with great accuracy. It was from this Zonga Hryre Seath would release all his secret weapons upon the Herewardi. And he gloried in his wickedness.
Earlier that morning, Hryre Seath had been summoned by Katus to hear his latest prophecy. Along with his choicest priests he descended far below the earth, deep, deep, deep, in the dark recesses of the Great Chamber. Hryre was dressed in his black emperor’s robes and wore his black conical mitre over his bald head. Behind him came his three black clad high priests. Ahead went two khaki clad guards who held torches for him to light his way. By the time he reached Katus’ chamber he was weary from the long walk.
Katus stood in the middle of the chamber, clad likewise in black robes, his bent form resting with his claw like hands placed on the altar stone from which he scryed. He asked in his scratchy voice. “Is that you, Master Hryre?”
“It is I, Katus. You summoned me with a new portent. What have you conjured from those dark realms where only the inner eye can see?”
Katus turned his white clouded eyes toward Hryre. “Tremble and shake.” Cautiously and methodically moving his rat-like hand over to an urn in the center of the altar, he said, “I will read it again for you as I saw it. It is most disturbing news I bring you. When first I read it, the Dark Lord of the Pale Elves appeared to me and commanded me to look, saying, “Strike now or be struck.”
The pale figure took the urn with one hand, felt for a brass bowl with the other and then poured a stream of human blood into the basin, the bright torch reflecting off the bowl contrasting intensely with the fresh blood. He set down the urn and took the basin with both hands. He swirled it several times before staring into the blood with his lifeless white eyes. After a long frozen stare, he lifted his pale bald head and pronounced in a croaking voice from his charcoal black lips, “Master, I see trouble, trouble, and trouble, horror, wrath, blood and destruction on a scale never before seen in our lands.”
Hryre cringed and felt a cold chill descend over his body. “Yes, proceed. What exactly do you see? Tell me, what have you conjured there in your blood bowl?”
“The same as was foretold long ago by Shermadamus in the days of Ish. The Seed of the Woman has begun to work itself into the world. And it is gathering great power unto itself far to the west. I see two great lights burning bright in the west. And if they are ever united they shall burn our empire to ashes and sink our sun forever. Unless...” He paused.
“Don’t stop. Go on, finish!” Hryre ordered. He placed a hand to the limestone chamber wall to stabilize himself.
Katus looked at him with haunting whites for eyes, “Unless you extinguish those two lights, all Pitterdom will be destroyed. I see them bringing fire and pestilence, horrible banners of many nations, and war engines to match our own. And I see all the tribes of the earth joining the Seed of the Woman against us.”
Hryre felt fear roll over him and cold rage filling his gut. “Where are they? Where shall we find these lights to extinguish them?”
Katus braced himself against the limestone altar. “Look to the Mountains of the Ndee for one, one which even now shines with great brilliance. And look far to the west on an isle of the deep for the other light which is only newly kindled and is now but a flicker.”
Hryre Seath turned quickly to his priests, “Just as I thought, Kanarus and Sur Sceaf, they are the lights. Have
Xombro take twenty of my legions from the Flooded Lands and go to the Skull Worm with all due haste. Turn his head from Kanarus and direct him toward Sur Sceaf.”
The priests hurriedly set out to fulfill the order but he called them back. “Tell Xombro to take my most faithful Vardropi leader, Skrael, and his sixteen thousand holy warriors. I want Skrael to focus on Sur Sceaf only, nothing else matters to me. Kill Sur Sceaf and I extinguish the light. Tell Skrael to pit Sur Sceaf first, then slowly disembowel him, and send me back his pickled head. I shall keep it in my chapel.”
“It shall be done, master,” the priests said in unison as they bowed and hastened away.
* * *
It was the end of the Blood Moonth and Faechild’s thirtieth birthday. Even though there were many duties that called to Sur Sceaf, he had always made it a point to drop everything and attend his family’s needs. Because it was such nice weather, the bride-sisters decided to hold the party on the lawn of the manor. One urgent matter after another had kept Sur Sceaf from leaving Godeselle until late afternoon. By the time he reached his manor, the darkness of winter was moving in. Undaunted, Paloma ordered torches lit, as well as a large bonfire. The older children had hung streamers with bells from the ancient oak along with strings of paper lanterns. The occasion was festive with good food, laughter, and music. The children had decorated a large chair fit out as a litter on which they bore Faechild from her home to the festive board on the lawn. The bride-sisters had made her favorite cake and pie, fig and pecan. The little ones were impatiently waiting for her to open all her presents before the dessert could be served. Sur Sceaf, too, was feeling some impatience as well. He was eager to see her reaction to the golden lyre he had Govannon fashion for her. He had just counted the number of presents to go when Arundel appeared at his side.
“Fa, look to the gates. Torch light is coming through the iron grates. Who can be approaching us at this hour and ringing the bell so frantically?”
“It can only be a silver harrier.” Sur Sceaf remarked. “Please attend the alarm and take Ilkchild with you.”
Arundel and Ilkchild dashed over to the gates, looked through the grates and called out a challenge, “Who goes there?”
After the muffled response, Ilkchild turned and called out, “It’s a silver harrier. Do we have your permission to admit him?”
“Make it so and offer the lad some refreshment.”
While Arundel secured the gates, Ilkchild led the silver harrier to Sur Sceaf. The harrier said, “My lord, I bear an urgent message from Mendaka.”
Sur Sceaf thanked him and then invited him to refresh himself while waiting for Sur Sceaf to determine if there was to be an answer. “Attend me over to the bonfire while I read this, Ary.” He broke the seal on the leather dispatch case and withdrew the rolled message. Quickly he scanned the words before turning to Ary. “Mendaka says, Turtle Duck’s vessel, the Overo, was on its way back from Ur Ford where he picked up more Sharaka colonists when their boat was overtaken and boarded by Mexus pirates. Mendaka says, the bastards are holding Turtle Duck, his son Degataga, and a ship full of Sharaka captives for ransom.”
Ary cursed, “Those sons of bitches.”
“It gets worse. Mendaka writes that they have Onamingo, Dancing Rabbit, the Thunder Horse and Mendaho as captives. And they want an ungodly ransom. Ten thousand pieces of gold solidus in their hands before the fourteenth day of the Dark Moonth or all the captives will be sold to the Pitters and into slavery. He claims that if we pay he will deliver the ship and its inhabitants upon receipt of the monies at Port Frisco on the appointed date.”
“Ransom,” Sur Sceaf said, “I’ll hang their heads from the mast for this.” He handed the letter back to Arundel. “Ary, this has been carefully thought out. It almost has the stamp of a Pitter on it. The enemy is moving. Is it not enough we have to deal with the Pitters and Vardropi, must we now fight the Mexus as well. We must consider our response with utmost care. Too many lives are at jeopardy.”
* * *
Sur Sceaf arrived in Godeselle, directly after dawn where several members of the War Council were already gathered. Sur Sceaf was glad to see Mendaka was already there along with Pyrsyrus, Elijah, and Hartmut.
He asked Mendaka, “Any other news?”
“Muryh has already pulled together the golden monies and has secured them in chests.”
Pyrsyrus said, “I’ve ordered my flagship to take to sea upon your order.”
Before he had a chance to ask Pyr if he had any other plans, the others began to arrive. All and all there were representatives of all three tribes as well as Jon Dee Lee, Shug Moss, Raven’s Tongue and Rurik, the commander of the elite Baldurean Guard. When all were present, Sur Sceaf called the meeting to order.
“I assume you have all been informed about the matter at hand.”
The commander of the Baldurean Guard said, “We have my lord, and we are ready to do your bidding.”
Sur Sceaf nodded, “Thank you, Commander Rurik. Besides your elite forces, I want Habraham to accompany the hawthorn to render a perfect accounting of the Quailor. We will pay the Mexus pirates their blood ransom, but that in no way implies we will let them keep it.”
He turned to Pyrsyrus. “Since this is primarily a matter of the sea, I authorize Lord Pyrsyrus to spearhead this mission. He will be in full command. Lord Pyrsyrus, have you had time to formulate a plan?”
“I have formulated several, but this is the one I favor. If anyone sees any holes in my plan, please, feel free to enlighten me. As Sur Sceaf has said, we will deliver the monies in the belly ship to redeem the hostages. Once we procure their safety and regain command of the Overo, we will besiege the Mexus ship and get our monies back. It’s that simple.”
Emboldened by his request for comment, the council members bombarded him with questions about the safety of the captives and the strategies. All of which he answered in a calm and persuasive manner. When the questions had all been answered to the council’s satisfaction, and assurances of approval given, Sur Sceaf inquired, “Do we know how many hostages were on the Overo?”
Raven’s Tongue said, “The ship holds closely seven hundred, along with baggage and livestock.”
Hartmut piped up. A curious change came over his voice, “Well worth the monies.”
“How do we know this isn’t a lure to get us away from the isle so an enemy can launch an attack?” Jon Dee asked.
Pyrsyrus said, “We don’t know that for a fact, but the fortress is secure enough now that I doubt they would venture a head on attack. No, methinks someone wants to feed a hungry army and needs the monies to finance it. This is too well thought out for mere Mexus pirates.”
Rurik said, “You think right. Yet this is not like a Pitter.”
“How do we know they haven’t made allies out of some of the Mexus?”
Mendaka said, “We don’t, but we will be ready in any case.”
“It is good,” Sur Sceaf said. “It will serve as a warning. It’s better to kill this snake in the egg before it hatches more pirates.”
Pyrsyrus said, “As soon as the Baldurean Guard are aboard along with the gold, we shall set to sea.”
Hartmut pressed. “Pyrsyrus, I’m going with thee. Chust give me ten minutes to fetch my gear. My woman is on that ship.”
Pyrsyrus shook his head, “Not going to happen, Hartmut. I understand how you must feel, but you can’t possibly know how to defend yourself, let alone deliver the death blows of war. I mean no disrespect, but you would be a burden.”
“Surrey,” Hartmut cried, turning to him with pleading eyes, “Tell thy brother that thou didst drill me in martial arts and crypsis as a youth. I learned it all so well that by the time he returned to Witan Jewell we were equally matched in all but archery, and I am very strong. I simply need to brush up on the training. A week at sea seemeth more than adequate to do so.”
Sur Sceaf had mixed feelings. Losing Hartmut would be a terrible blow. Reluctantly he admitted, “It is true Pyrsyru
s. Hartmut is very adept in the martial arts. As you know, it comes back quickly with training.”
Pyrsyrus sighed, “Very well, but be it on your own head, Hartmut, if anything happens. Fetch your gear and be ready to board the Hawthorn in one hour.”
Chapter 25 : Hartmut at Sea
During the seven days voyage on the Hawthorn, Hartmut used every spare moment to train with a Baldurean swordsman, and occasionally with several swordsmen in succession. Although he had initially been rusty, each day’s training sharpened his skills a little more. Even Lord Pyrsyrus tested his mettle on one or two occasions in order to test his proficiency with kukri and sword. By nightfall he was so exhausted that he would fall into his hammock. His new friend, the Baldurean blade master, warned him not to over do it. But Hartmut needed to stay busy to keep Mendaho’s fate at bay. Memories of the day she socked Fromer kept bleeding into his thoughts. If her fiery nature prompted her to do the same with one of her captors there was no telling what might befall her.
A day before they were due to arrive in the Frisco Bay they were beset by a violent squall forcing the crew to don their wool coats under their oil skin slickers and endure a half day of wet wind driven rain amidst the smashing waves of a rough sea. Half the crew had belly sickness that kept them close to the rail. Mostly the sailing went fairly smoothly.
During the few hours when he wasn’t practicing martial arts or improving his sword arm, Hartmut marked the shoreline with its unbelievably tall redwoods near the far reaches of Herewardi and Jywdic settlements. Then there were the great grassy hills of Tomales, a kind of no man’s land of disputed turf between the Herewardi and the Friscans that to date had not gotten resolved.
On the dawn of the twelfth they drew close to the Frisco Bay, they were hailed by Frisco marines who patrolled the bay and its entrance. With a Frisco ship on either side, they entered the bay, which was filled with fishermen rigs and merchant vessels.
The Isle of Ilkchild (The King of Three Bloods Book 4) Page 37
