The Frightful Dance (The King of Three Bloods Book 2) Read online

  Russ L. Howard Library for House of Howard Publishing

  The King of Three Bloods:

  Book One: The Sire Sheaf

  Book Two: The Frightful Dance

  Book Three: Witan Jewell

  Book Four: The Isle of Ilkchild

  Book Five: The Bok of Syr Folk

  Book Six: The King-Queen

  Book Seven: The Scynscatha

  Book Eight: Brekka

  Book Nine: El Yid

  Book Ten: The Evil Ennead

  Book Eleven: Rebirth of the Elven-Gods

  GET YOUR FREE BOOK: THE WOSE: AGONY OF A TORTURED SOUL

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  Copyright © 2018 by Russ L. Howard

  Cover Art: Deranged Doctor Design

  Publishing: House of Howard Publishing

  ISBN: 9781945130274

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Love’s Visions

  Chapter 2: The Day After

  Chapter 3: The Fish Nurse

  Chapter 4: Fire on Ea-Urth

  Chapter 5: Good Bye to the Cat Queen

  Chapter 6: The Quailor

  Chapter 7 : Hartmut

  Chapter 8 : In-Laws

  Chapter 9 : Trouble at Home

  Chapter 10 : The Ineffable Tree

  Chapter 11 : Fire in the Sky

  Chapter 12 : The Exodus Begins

  Chapter 13 : The Way to Witan Jewell

  Chapter 14 : The Booger Dance

  Chapter 15 : The Boogers

  Chapter 16 : Taneshewa’s Trials and Tribulations

  Chapter 17 : A Clash of Cultures

  Chapter 18 : Glide Garth

  Chapter 19 : Colliding Rivers, Colliding Cultures

  Chapter 20 : Bad Spirits

  Chapter 21 : Dealing with the Muckenschnabel

  Chapter 22 : The Lamentations of the Quailor

  Chapter 23 : Oh, A Happy Day!

  Chapter 24 : In The Tents of King Pyrsyrus

  Chapter 25 : A Cup of Vengeance Mixed With A Cup of Grief

  PRONUNCIATION GUIDE

  Glossary

  Author Biography

  Book II: The Frightful Dance

  * * *

  Chapter 1: Love’s Visions

  Taneshewa woke to a glorious morning filled with bird song, the air fresh and filled with golden sunlight. It was to be a busy day with the arrival of Lord Pyrsyrus and his guests. She decided she must hurry and bathe so as to help her mother with all the preparations. As she bathed, the lake was smooth and unruffled and the water was delightfully and unseasonably warm. Closing her eyes she floated on her back splashing water up over her breasts, and thinking about Surrey. Had he reached Fort Rock safely? He had sent no word. No Herewardi silver harrier passed by with any word of such, nor had any pigeons been reported.

  She was reveling in thoughts of his return when a gust of chill wind roiled the water around her. Surprised she opened her eyes to see what had caused the stir of the waters. Not only had the sun disappeared, but it had been swallowed by an ominous black cloud and the air had taken on a sudden cold bite. Shivering she ran to the shore and began to dress, where she was overtaken by a dark premonition of danger approaching. Quickly, she reached for her knife and strapped it around her waist. Warily, she scanned the area for the immediate threat.

  Seeing nothing untoward in the surrounding area, she looked over at the tipi that Sur Sceaf had occupied. To her surprise she spotted what looked like Sur Sceaf readying his pack for a journey. Glancing up he smiled and beckoned for her.

  Mystified, she approached slowly. Inexplicably, just as she reached the tipi, she found herself standing on the rim of the crater. Hurriedly glancing around for Sur Sceaf, Taneshewa realized she was alone on the edge of the sky. Alarmed, she frantically searched for him. To her dismay she saw nothing but the familiar silhouette of the crater and the deep blue lake. Fear engulfed her at the sight of the sun being eclipsed. As she stood there wondering what to do, she heard Surrey’s voice calling her name from somewhere behind.

  Spinning around, she saw, not Surrey, but instead what she took for a majestic white stag standing on the precipice of the crater. As he approached her cautiously, her heart thudded. Then he paused. Never before had she seen a stag of such noble bearing and strength. He towered over her with a proud thick neck that bore a rack of magnificent wide spreading antlers whiter than alabaster. Unbelievably, his eyes were as green as emeralds and seemed to draw her in, compelling her to move even closer. She realized it was a manitou, a thunder being.

  A thrill such as she had never known before ran through her from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. The most glorious of feelings filled her with awe at the radiant power of the white manitou and she brimmed with a surreal attraction to his male potency only to find herself wanting to run her hands over the thick fur of his neck. But as quickly as she stretched out her hand she hesitated.

  “This can’t be.”

  A deep bugle issued from his throat followed by a voice very much like that of Sur Sceaf’s.“Do you not know me, my love? I told you I would return.”

  “Is this a dream?”

  “It is a channel opened to us to commune above the world we live in. It is the Other World.”

  She was suffused with a warm glow and a certainty that he was speaking to her from his heart. As though she had no will of her own, she placed her lady moccasin forward in the direction of the god.

  “I love you,” she whispered aloud, her heart sustaining her declaration.

  The manitou lowered his head down to pull on her moccasin string with his teeth. As he did so, his antlers wove into a glorious pattern that she recognized as the Herewardi knot. When he finished, the manitou raised his head and spoke in the most loving of voices, “By the power of this sacred knot, my beloved Ahy, our love and souls shall be eternally woven.”

  A clap of thunder split the air, the surface of the crater heaved and grew darker until the waters opened into a deep black abyss. Slowly, a giant black scorpion emerged from the void, crawling up the crater wall. Paralyzed, she cried out a warning. But too late, it was too late. The scorpion’s tail whipped and plunged its stinger directly into the manitou’s back and at the same time the evil creature sank its lethal pincers into the neck of the manitou. Poisoned by the sting, the manitou was powerless to fight back. The scorpion pulled him over the lip of the rim like a spider drags its prey. As the manitou slid off the cliff, he stretched forth his neck in one last desperate effort. His teeth snatched the lace of her lady-moccasin while he went sliding off the cliff and down the crater’s wall. The lace threaded out, a gleaming silver cord, a mere strand to save the manitou.

  There was a thunder crash followed by a blaze of lightning revealing a blood drenched boulder which two ravens bore away from the dark abyss. As though commanded by the thunder, the sc
orpion released its hold on the stag and slid back into the abyss. The black water continued to whirl violently until the void was sealed.

  Released from the scorpion’s spell by the ravens, the manitou hanged hundreds of feet above the rocks below. Taneshewa reached for him and pulled at her lace intending to draw him up the cliff wall. But as she watched in horror, Sur Sceaf’s soul exited the mouth of the manitou, remaining connected by nothing more than the silver thread from her moccasin. Another lightning bolt shot from the heavens causing the gleaming silver thread of life to strengthen and thus arrest his fall into the abyss below.

  Taneshewa woke with a start, bathed in a sweat, and shaking violently. A dream! She had been dreaming. It had been so real, so vivid, and unlike any she had ever had before. In an attempt to shake off the horror of the night vision, she prayed, “Oh Grandmother, protect the Lord Sur Sceaf this day. Free me from the sting and grip of this dreadful dream. Please don’t let this be a prophecy.”

  With the dream still clear in her mind, she scrambled free of the furs of her bed and took a quick peek through the door flaps. Dawn had just sent the first streamers of morning light across the sky. Her eyes fastened to an object lying upon the ground. She recognized it as Sur Sceaf’s polished hawthorn hairclaw. She smiled. The gods have taken note of me. My dreams are but fears. Sur Sceaf must have put Going Snake up to leaving this as an enduring token of love. She slid the comb into her hair, comforted by this omen.

  After grabbing her fresh clothes, a towel, and her knife, she darted for the lake, dressed only in her night shift. Lord Pyrsyrus’ fyrds and the young bloods were due to arrive that morning and she had promised her mother to help make ready.

  Under the insistence of Onamingo, the camp at Eloheh had been made fit for a royal visit. Despite the necessary chaos of the preparations for departure, all was ready for the arriving Herewardi guests. The mid-morning sky was a deep blue, allowing the crispness of the cool rained air to warm. Taneshewa stood with Dancing Rabbit and Sparrow Hawk at the tent of Onamingo. Eloheh was set apart in privacy from the main camp of the tribe and sat on the south shore of DiAhman Lake at the mouth of the Unequa Stream. Eloheh was the place where all private business was conducted and executed from the long lodge. Other village women had volunteered to arrange the Feast of Welcoming so that Taneshewa and Dancing Rabbit might be free to sit with Onamingo, engaging and enjoying the dignitaries of the Herewardi fyrds.

  Never before, had Taneshewa seen and met so many foreign dignitaries and visits from others as in the past moon. But there was particularly rising anticipation over the arrival of the fyrds and Sur Sceaf’s brother, the famed lord and king, Pyrsyrus, rumored to be a dark pirate, who sent his Sea Stallions on forays to rob the Pitters.

  Mendaka had organized this event so that each clan’s talking chief would be entertaining their Herewardi counterpart so as to begin the process of melding the armies and people of the different tribes. According to her father, this would be of great benefit to both. Because of the great numbers in the fyrds, most of them would be bivouacked on the east shore of Lake DiAhman while the officers would come to Eloheh. Although her father and the talking chiefs considered themselves equals to those of the royal blood, she feared she didn’t share their confidence. She had heard of their fine dress and well-built homes. Would the refined Herewardi women and in particular, Surrey’s wives, who might come, look down on her for her rustic life style? Even though he had assured her they would accept her fully, she still had her doubts.

  As the other women were busy hauling meat, hominy, and drink to the mats, Taneshewa leaned close into her mother. “Do you not find it odd that Meny, Sagwi, and Little Doe are missing? They should have been here by now. Surely, they are not going to embarrass us by being late?”

  Dancing Rabbit said, “Sagwi and Little Doe would never do that. It’s probably Meny holding up everyone. You should have seen her fussing over her hair last night. You know Meny, as flighty, flirtatious, and fickle as they come. First Sur Sceaf and now she’s as giddy as a mare in heat over that handsome young man they call the Young Prince Ilkchild. I’ve never seen him, but talk is, he is as handsome as a thunder being. At least Little Doe has filled her head that he is as close to a thunder being as you’ll ever get in looks, even more handsome than Surrey, and some say with hair like spun rays of the sun, long and beautiful, and it would be the envy of any woman.”

  Drums beat and smoke signals arose alerting them to the approach of the Herewardi hosts.

  Taneshewa glanced down the trail leading into the village where Onamingo stood before the long lodge with his talking chiefs, decked out in his finely beaded white and turquoise shirt.

  She declared,“Here comes the Herewardi leadership. Meny will miss her opportunity.” Her father had told her this was just to be a meeting with his talking chiefs, his family, Pyrsyrus and his family, and Pyrsyrus’ six chiefs.

  Dancing Rabbit craned her neck. “Truth is, I don’t even see Mendaka. Something might be wrong.”

  “Father said he was going to join the young bloods who were to camp on the other side of the lake by the corrals with the fyrds. He has a present to give Redelfis when they arrive. So maybe that’s where Dak is.”

  The Herewardi leadership came dressed in their regal, deep red surcoats, riding down the road ahead of a large open carriage pulled by flaxen-maned draft horses with champagne feathering on their feet. Camp dogs were barking at the carriage wheels. As the coach drew nearer, Taneshewa saw that the large carriage had the image of a castle on the side of the door like the banners the outriders were carrying, and the carriage was full of women.

  Looking ever closer she could see the exquisitely tooled coach was not only filled with a troupe of Herewardi ladies, but they were all dressed in the loveliest of long silky colorful dresses such as she had never seen, some silver, some teal, some aubergine, and others gold or lavender.

  At the head of the caravan, rode a warrior who was clearly of what the Hyrwardi call the royal blood. The man made her heart skip a beat. There was something in the way he sat a horse that made him radiate confidence, strength, and command. In his majestic bearing, she realized suddenly, he was the spitting image of Surrey. This has to be the Lord Pyrsyrus, She thought.

  He called a halt several man lengths before the long lodge and dismounted in unison with his six other officers or heretoga as the Herewardi say. Two of his officers appeared to be Red Men. To her surprise Pyrsyrus towered over the other men, and although Surrey was taller than most Sharaka, he would most likely have to look up to meet his brother eye to eye. Although Pyrsyrus was extremely handsome and carried himself with the bearing of a true warrior, he did not elicit the same depth of feeling she held for Surrey.

  After handing off the reins of his white steed to a green garbed lad, what they call a beetle, he assisted the ladies in exiting their coach. Behind the coach were two wagons carrying tents, provisions, and gear for the trip. The red-coated outriders bearing armbands festooned with a tower on their right arms, tended their horses and gear. Since Surrey had left, she had seen this tower in a book Meny shared and knew it represented the third of the three stages of Herewardi civilization. Meny also explained to her that Pyrsyrus was the first son of royal blood in this dispensation to have arrived at such a stage of development with the building of his famed Stone Palace in the Sand Wand Islands.

  “I can’t believe how much the Lord Pyrsyrus looks like Surrey,” Taneshewa whispered. “But I don’t see anyone by the description of Ilkchild anywhere.”

  Dancing Rabbit said, “Perhaps he did not accompany them as planned. Meny will be so disappointed. Come, let’s go greet them.”

  As soon as they joined Onamingo, he stepped forward, raised his hand in greeting. “Welcome to Eloheh, son of Syrus and senior brother of our esteemed leader and chief of chiefs, the Lord Prince Sur Sceaf.”

  Surry’s brother even sounded like him as he returned Onamingo’s greeting, “Os-Frith! Waes Hael! Greetings est
eemed Chief Onamingo, I convey to you the greetings of my father, the High Lord Sur Spear, the Roufytrof, and the Council of Women.”

  Onamingo put an arm around his wife. “Permit me to introduce my dear wife, Dancing Rabbit.”

  A blush crossed her Dancing Rabbit’s face as the tall dark gentleman took her by the hand and placed it to his forehead. It reminded Ahy of the time Surrey had done the same for her. It was called the Herewardi genuflect, not commonly used, and it reflected the deepest of respect. “Os-Frith, my lady!” Pyrsyrus smiled. “It is a rare pleasure to meet you, Dancing Rabbit.”

  Dancing Rabbit said, “It pleases me to meet someone of your great accomplishments, Lord Prince Pyrsyrus. Permit me to introduce my daughters, Sparrow Hawk and Ahyyyokah Taneshewa.”

  After greeting Sparrow Hawk warmly and extending the same Herewardi genuflect, he turned to Taneshewa as if he were studying her more than he had the others, whereupon, he placed her hand to his forehead, and said, “Os-Frith! It is a great honor to meet the Lady Taneshewa. Long Swan has spoken very highly of you. May the gods keep you.” He studied her for several more moments with a warm grin to his eyes that told her he had only heard good things.

  Taneshewa bowed her head to the giant sea-captain from the north, and then looked up into his brilliant green eyes.

  The colorful troupe of ladies moved up behind Pyrsyrus.

  Prince Pyrsyrus said, “May I introduce the ladies who have graced me with their presence on this journey through the wooden arms of the Umpqua Wilderness. This is the Lady Donya Margarita del Borego.”

  Donya, a dark-haired beauty, curtsied, smiled, and said in a musical lilt, “The journey was all so pleasant. Pyr showed me the Trysting Tree, an ancient yew where he pledged his troth to Faewylf. The forest is the friend of the Herewardi, but makes me to shiver with fear. It’s more like a haunted house if ju ask me. Sometimes that which scares me the most thrills me the most. How I hear it goes with ju and Sur Sceaf. I can see clearly why he wants ju. Ju are so beautiful Lady Taneshewa. The Long Swan, he says, the only woman feisty enough to humble the pride of Surrey.” She laughed.