A Castrovel Adventure: Part 4, Chapter 50

In which Vaeol’s glyph-rede - the adder, the sword, and the skull - come to fulfillment.

From the Daylog of Vaeol-Zheieveil Yaranevae be’Son

5. Afaelae, 24,545 - Leiss Farmhold [5 days after last entry]
I owe word here for a few days but only now have the strength and will. Thus I will begin where I offleft. On Treesong’s morntide, we overrode the bridge to Lea’s landfarthing and beyond the wardwall to hold the weapon-trial between Vosaeth and Lady Byreath, while Her Highness Lady Vifaul, Lady Zhaene, and the city matrons watched from the walls. Some might deem it unholy to hold such a bloody deed on the same day as Treesong. Yet we none recked such overniceness.
A stockyard lay at the landfarthing’s edge, which the heralds overseeing deemed the wholesome stead. Befittingly, they had withdrawn the inner folds, leaving the outer fence, and which left a wide room, maybe fifty spans or slightly more on all sides, surely enough to let Vosaeth and Byreath slay each other. Our household came early and found the heralds had upset a tent for our welfare. Vosaeth ran Kaef her steed over the yard to loosen his legs, tried and overlooked all her weapons, and stretched her arms while a list mist drifted down. Shortly she held little Sonnauf her son, who fretted and wept, doubtlessly reading the worry she so heedfully hid, and then yielded him to Threarde. Then she checked her harness, strode along the yard’s side swinging arms, and made jokes.
Halfway between Third and Fourth Belltides, a wordbode raced in, calling Clan Zhihuafa was coming. Though Vosaeth strove to unmind and stay loose, we else rose and gathered at the fence. Shortly afterward, two outriders jogged along the road, on which wardens were set every two Shota-lengths. Then followed the whole clan, roughly thirty grown warriors and maybe as many youths and children, with two Shieldheads as packbeasts. To my mind, they showed as a hopeless and sorry lot, far shrunken from mightier days (though still bearing the war’s booty). Furthermore, a hollowness marred their faces, and their Shotalashu’s ribs bared. We could not even guess how they had fared the whole way, against almost the whole Retaea set against, hiding from scouts and outriders, and forbidden the lake’s welfare. Byreath had driven them hard, and rooted from the word gotten of the Retaea’s yestermonth fight, she had forsaken all her folk else to spare these few.
Byreath rode at their lead and dashed along the trialyard’s fence and back, overlooking both the stead and us. She unsteeded to speak with the herald, who offhastened with word, and then showily took winewater, unsaddled her Shotalashu, and scratched it while she waited answer. Likewise, we waited while the heralds read together, overtalking the foes’ steadship and the trial’s forespoken law. Then one hastened back to Byreath, and the other to us. As the mist weightened to a sprinkle, she boded the trial might readily begin.
Vosaeth took her babe a last time, who squawled under the unacknowledged dread riding their shared mind. Heavily she gave him back to Threarde with a kiss. Anon she was beset by Leief, Eneash, and Onull, who together knelt and shoved brows against the hard-beshelled byrnie whelming her belly. Against her will, tears pooled her eyes. She kissed each and bade them thew Threarde, and then hugged Honosil, Zhaunyth, and Anmeth. Then she took her longspear and brooked it to leap into her Shotalashu’s saddle.
Anon, Kaef her steed reared and shrieked. Its foreclaws raked the loft while it backed frightfully, and we aground dodged, and Vosaeth, who was still setting feet astirrup clutched the saddlebow. Then the Shotalashu stumbled, swerved, and toppled. It fell aside, and Vosaeth’s yell clove with.
So many things happened together as from the ground rose a hood-adder, small and young, but neck spread wrathfully from the Shota’s claw that had crushed it. Straightway Onull drew an axe and slew it. We looked to Vosaeth fallen, whomto Honosil, Eneash, and Leief rushed. To her good lief, she bade them heed her Shotalashu instead, who roared hurtfully. True to fear, the hood-adder had bitten it. Yet Vosaeth’s leg lay caught, twisted under her steed’s side, and not only did she share his hurt through their mind-bond, but bore her own.
Mildly as we could, we untangled steed and rider. Vosath coaxed the wretched beast to stand, against its shivering limbs and her hurtful groan as it offwallowed and so freed her. A check proved her leg was broken: more sorrowful harm than Taiase or I could swiftly heal. Even worse, she fully bewared the deadly wound Kaef had taken. Heedless of her own woe, she begged us save her Shotalashu, and the forethought their mind-bond’s loss frightened her more than the wrack searing her leg. Though Eneash already sucked the wound and outspat poison, and we called healers, we reckoned Kaef a grim outlook.
As if this whole wrecktide were not enough, the herald came and asked what befell. Hopelessly Remaue and I looked to the trialyard’s far side. We could not even wish Byreath and her ilk might have missed the misdeed, since the herald had come under their behest. Furthermore, we had doubtless inkling of how Byreath, and also the watchers, would beread it: a doomful omen, and whereby Byreath would make sake to outspeak winship. Bewaring this misluck, Her Highness Lady Vifaul also came and asked our stead. She beheld Vosaeth weeping broken aground and deemed it unwell. Then she asked whether anything else might outcome, lest she yield an unwelcome boatfare (and Than’s ill will) to Lady Byreath.
I looked to Vosaeth lying wracksome while her haremmates soothed helplessly, the melded hurt, fear, and wrath wafting from her antennae almost overbearing. Hollowly she met my eyes. ~Di romi tere inyassere!~ - “Do not let her win!” she choked.
I outthought to Remaue and Kaure beside, asking: ~Dei mi vearme?~ - “Do we stand together?” Both their eyes widened, and Remaue glanced to my babe I held against my harnessed shoulder. Kaure, however, sooner shifted grim. I bade her fetch my helm and swordbill. Then I headed to Her Highness and beseeched she leave this business with me. As a last thing, I bade Erymi and Tae withhold the men, and dolefully Oshis. Then with my two wifemates, Honosil, and the heralds, we strode over the yard.
Oddly, the Zhihuafa were already cheering their seeming win after Vosaeth’s misluck, and did not first beware. Our coming unsteadily stilled them. Yet, and against the weapons Kaure carried, my son in arm and the heralds’ fellowship betokened truce. We brooked their unsteadiness to come not merely to the yard’s fence but beyond, within their sith. I found Byreath amidst, stood before, and hailed.
~Ve hishe Vosaethe mi miqye,~ - “I am Vosaeth’s othermate and oath-sister,” I began: ~O’illi risime,~ - “We shall fight.”
Byreath’s grin wavered. ~Eise mae,~ she naysaid: “You are a mother.” - the same word she had yesterday given Vosaeth. Her eyes flicked to my son, whose head outsought, heedful under our shared grimness. I answered motherhood had not withheld her from fighting Vosaeth, whose son is little older than mine. Neither had it kept her warrior’s raid from us yesteryear on the moor, with Vosaeth’s son a newborn and me so thick I wobbled asaddle. ~Yei ari di siyayeli, o hemni-dei risassi!~ I spat: “As you have no honor, you will have no qualm fighting me!”
The clanwife scowled, though against wrath she withheld. Truthfully, after Vosaeth’s misluck she wished to outname herself the winner and so shirk fight altogether, and thence to a swift boatfare away. She answered such had not been forespoken, and therefore she beheld no need.
Arear Byreath I spotted a tall stone, doubtlessly left from an elder wreckstead. Gathering my still strong birthmight, I hovered her aloft and slammed her against its flat face.
Ashock, the Zhihuafa warriors raised weapons while Remaue and Kaure leapt before me, and the heralds yelled truce. I unheeded them all and instead kept mind on Byreath. She struggled to offshove, but while afloat could get no heft. Her look bespoke all: the wrath naked I had ever forelooked lurking within. We neither could not remind the same deed I had yesteryear bestricken upon her, when, after her leaveless kiss at Lady Nimizi’s masktide, I had floated her off the floor and shamed her before Lea’s whole ladyhood. Now before her clan’s warriors, this slight must be recked.
~Risi vere o’miathi,~ - “Fight me now,” I bade, and reminded that not only am I a City Games champion but had also won weapon-trials, and had even beaten a Korasha hero barehand. I would fight her afoot, and with her best weapon, whereof my loss would win her more glory than enough to quell Lea’s matrons and alet boatfare. ~O’nae-eshi vere shiemyaes,~ - “You need merely beat me.”
~Rauli-dei,~ - “No witchcraft,” she forewarned.
More kindly than I wished, I set Byreath afoot. Then I offstrode back to the trialyard, with Remaue and Kaure following near while the heralds hastily settled the shifted whits.
Dimly I bewared shouts from our side, ingathering Oshis’s yell, whom seemingly madness had overtaken on bewitting my choice to fight, and Less and Hanos slightly less. I had faith the wives would keep them sooth. Instead, I heeded my son, who squealed recklessly. I had no words, but kissed his tiny brow and gave him to Remaue. Swiftly came a wild fright that this might be the last tide I held him. Yet I quelled it down and hardened my thoughts beyond mindshare, for that fright would surely lead to loss. Then I donned helm and gloves, took my swordbill from Kaure, and swerved back toward the Zhihuafa’s side.
Byreath came into the yard with the heralds while my housemates withdrew. She wore the same helm and harness wherein I had watched her yesteryear slay Eieli for the Zhihuafa clanwifeship. More reckfully, she bore the same axebill, taller than herself and nearly matching my weapon’s length. I could tell she loved that weapon and deemed herself doughty. I was forelooking that whit, and dolefully as the drizzle strengthened.
I liked the drizzle, forwhy wetter ground would make an axebill’s swing more awkward, whereas my swordbill’s thrust would be less so.
I read Byreath’s eyes and witted her reckoning as I did. Doubtlessly she was thinking I had given birth less than a year ago and was still suckling, and meanly new mothers soften after birthtide’s wrack and carrying their milkweight. I also witted that many Retaea haughtily believe themselves stronger than cityfolk. Yet I had behoof, since I had already seen her fight, though she had never seen me. Neither did she know that I had been drilling hard these last many months.
We stood at about eight strides between, with the heralds amidst, our weapons upright with their butts aground. A last time the heralds raised their fans and asked whether we would seek truce elsewise. We naysaid, whereat they asked us each our readiness. We both yaysaid. Then they held forth their fans, almost splitting the gap between. ~Niri!~ they yelled together, and swiftly fled rearward from our midst: “Begin!”
Unhastily Byreath and I brought our bills to ward. We strode forward, bringing ourselves to the dance-length. Byreath set her weapon at a high ward: haft and axeblade over her right shoulder and the butt aiming from mid-breast. I chose, however, an unlike stand and held my swordbill low, aiming at her knee. I read her befuddleness, since this is a ward-stand untaught among the clanfolk, though she swiftly outriddled: I would await her swing, and forestall it by raising my blade to thrust. She must reckon whether she could strike my helm or shoulder, and if I did thrust, whether her byrnie would withstand. It might, or we might both die together.
Instead of letting her time to find the riddle’s answer, I chose to give her my own. My blade rose and aimed straight at her face. She beheld her weakness, even while my body tightened to loosen a stroke.
Byreath’s axebill forestalled me when it leapt forward, though not at me. She tried the same thing she had done against Eieli, chopping downward at my weapon’s haft. I shunned the blow by twisting my blade in a small loop, stirring away from her axeblade and bringing my tip back at her face. Then I took behoof, leapt forward, and with a yell thrust to full reach.
Byreath dodged, letting my blade beside her helm, and withdrew. She swung her axebill backward, so slowly matched against my swordbill’s swiftness. I afterhunted, unwilling to yield relief, and to prove her plight, marked more thrusts in time with my steps. Though my blade found not her face, I hit her breastplate and shoulder-dishes, my blue edge chiseling the wax-boiled hide.
In that breathtide, the Zhihuafa clanwife witted that, striving as we were, my swordbill had not the strength to stick her byrnie. She beheld forehap, chose to unheed my blade, and swung at me. I raised my billbutt, blocked it an elbowspan from my head, and twisted her weapon aside. Anon we were both at near length, less than our weaponhafts. We both sidled and upchoked grips, racing to behold who could swing first. I reminded Byreath had used this same hap to beat Eieli yesteryear, and so chose to shift a half-step backward while I swung high and sideward.
Byreath’s axeblade thundered downward. Its blade’s upper edge caught my helm’s forebrim, which tore off the tip and likely saved my life. Even so, the broken blade’s edge brunted through, bit my eyebrow and cheek, and then crashed on my shoulder dish. A dull shock heated my face and shoulder, but no hurt.
The blow had knocked my helm over my eyes. Yet I did not need to see to know where she was. My bill’s swordblade struck her upper arm, bit flesh, and cut sinew. I felt her bone snap.
I shook my head to righten my helm and dimly heard the heralds yell, doubtlessly who saw us both wounded. Yet to my thought the fight had not ended. Still at near length while she staggered, I lowered shoulder and brunted against Byreath’s wounded arm, sprawling her.
A breathtide I looked at my foe aground. I reckoned the clanwife’s helplessness, and even her raw fear as she struggled against the hurt. Some share of me sought hint that she rued her sins. When her eyes found mine, however, hatred still glowed. Reckless of the heralds, I upswung my swordbill, aimed downward, and stabbed with all my weight and strength. My blade bit deep into her throat, neck, and even into bone. A swift death, and maybe kindlier than the death she owed. I minded hot spray drenching my legs and arms, a red-gold smirch upon me.
The heralds dashed near, though I unheeded. Only slowly I looked upward and beheld Remaue and Kaure running forward, followed almost so swiftly by Oshis, Less, and Hanos. Idly I witted my wifemate no longer bore Aeosel my son. She likely had left him with Erymi. I remarked her face showed the same dreadful wanness she had shone when she took Lanaryel from my arms to save her from the moldstorm. The others showed almost as hollow. Then I witted my face’s hot numbness, and also that my right eye could not see, with half my sight darkened. When my wifemates reached and crawed the swordbill from my fingers, they stared fearfully. I asked: ~Dei dume yaztafe?~ - “Have I lost my eye?”
Then the others clutched tight, fear and tears bright upon their cheeks. Remaue’s shuddering fingers lifted the wrecked helm from my head. Kaure and Oshis bore me on their shoulders toward our side, while the others clustered near and shot wary glares back at the Zhihuafa, who laterward I heard were dithering wildly, afright at their new leaderlessness. I let myself be offborne, dwelling in a queer unsoothness, trying to reckon the trial’s outcome and what had befallen.
I might have lost an eye, but that whit weighed not heaviest. I had slain another. Thus I had learned war’s last loretide from Byreath.
Our whole household met us before the yard’s fence, but for Onull, Eneash, and Leief, who stayed to thew Vosaeth lying broken. Honosil and Threarde met me at the gate, acknowledging my win. ~Dei imaulis tril-lere?~ - “Do you want her head?” they asked after the Retaea wont, since Vosaeth had hinted she might take Byreath’s head as their feud’s prize. Yet I am not Retae, and coming from the cities, skull-gathering understood a wholly else, evil meaningfulness. ~Di imaulf. Shaveraze zhyeafe,~ - “I want it not,” I answered: “I am no Thief-Queen.”
Then I sagged against Kaure while she and Oshis strove to keep me upright. What lasted of my half-sight darkened sickly, and I swooned out of thought and time.
I woke ereyesterday, back here at the farmhold but in a tent aground and not in our bower, recking I bear blood-smirch, and to Aeosel’s wail upon my breast, and also to both Remaue and Kaure crouched aslumber, their heads lying beside me. At once they awoke, overgladdened at my liveliness. I could not unheed the heavy wrap over my brow and right eye, whereunder I could merely wonder, and so repeated my question from the weapon-trial. Idly Remaue kissed my cheek and told that, against my best deed, we hoped I may keep my eye. Taiase and the others had held no short healing hymntide over me.
My heaven-tressed wifemate toyed with my hairlock and asked remindingly what nickname Her Highness Lady Ivassil of Qabarat had bequeathed me after the fetch to Sovyrian to send the Aslanta home and my banship: ~Ruzhyahaze~ - Worry-maker. She then added I have indeed wrought much worry, for her and Kaure, our whole household, and dolefully for Aeosel. She outlaid one of her hardest deeds had been to bring him back into nearness to recleave mindshare, forwhy at the first step he felt my hurt, and which, under the raw bond between mother and babe, became his. At last she had forborne to bring him within, even against his wracksome scream, and lay him on my breast, at which he had cloven my swoon
Soon came Taiase, as whose ward I lay. Our elder friend foretold that I will wholly heal, though by another fingerwidth I almost lost my eye. Kaure even showed the notch in my helm’s forebrim, which needs sure mend. Taiase forewarned, however, that even with the finest silver clamps holding the wound, I will have a fierce scar, which I reckon shall become my win’s token.
Soon afterward came Erymi, Tae, and Draue with the children, who sought sureness that I am hale. They bewondered of my eyewear and asked if I hurt. I lied and answered it hurt unmuch. Then came Less and Hanos, who knelt and kissed my belly. They begladdened my health, though with stern word that next time I should leave the fight to them.
The children seemed right worshipful, knowing I had beaten Byreath, Yet I found the whit bitter, though I had not the heart to share with them the deed’s forsoothness. I am ~Halaeaze~ - Murderer. Byreath's death besmirches, even worse than the Zhihuafa deaths from yesteryear's raid. My soul will bear this filth a long time.
One wight I beheld not. I asked of Oshis. Sorrily Erymi answered he will not come. ~Qaeodas,~ - “He is too angry.” Thoughtlessly I almost asked under what sake he was angry at me. Then I reminded our yesteryear strife when he had withstood my weapon-drill, and I had, to my shame, threatened to ban him. An unhappy yesterwhit, and now Oshis was reliving it. I wanted to rise and seek him. Yet anon weariness overtook, and again I slumbered.
Yesterday I asked Erymi to beseech him to come. She came back with his answer naysaying. Also, I witted someone else I had not seen. So I asked of Vosaeth and her house. Erymi answered my oath-sister’s household has shifted camp, which now stands at the trialyard where I had fought Byreath. They have gone to her, instead of stirring her broken leg. Also, in the night while I lay witless, Kaef her steed had died of his adder-wound. Thus she suffered under twofold curse from the death's link-shock. 
Something, however, seems odd, forwhy, though bothersome, since they could have laid her in a wagon and have her drawn hither so easily as me. Erymi, however, had no outlay. So I am left with a manifold riddle: how to soothe my manlove, and what befalls my oath-sister.

Lashunta Words & Phrases:

• Treesong: Religous festival to Mahaere - Green-Mother - at the first day of the month.
• ~Romi~ - direct imperative of ~romassi~: to let; allow.
• ~Hishe~ (feminine): other; second; othermate
• ~Miqye~ (feminine): oath-sister
• ~O'illi~: will; shall. Adverbial phrase
• ~Risime~ - 1st-person inclusive conditional of ~risassi~: to fight. 'we (you & I) would fight.'
• ~Yei~ (spiritual): relative adverb; thus; so; as so
• ~Ari~ (spiritual): honor; glory; heroism
• ~Hemni~ (spiritual): qualm; weakness; sickness
• ~Raul~ (spiritual): witchcraft; magic; psionic knack
• ~Niri~ - direct imperative of ~nirassi~: to begin
• ~Dume~ - feminine of ~dum~ (animal): eye; eyes
• ~Yaztafe~ - 1st-person femine passive of ~yazassi~ to lose; to be lost
• ~Imaulis~ - 2nd-person active of ~imaulassi~: to want; yearn; crave
• ~Tril~ (animal): head
• ~Shaveraze~ (feminine): Thief-Queen
• ~Zhyeafe~ - 1st-person feminine of ~zhyeassi~ to be not
• ~Ruzhyahaze~ (feminine): worry-maker; cause for worry or concern.
• ~Halaeaze~ (feminine): murderer; slayer
• ~Qaeodas~ - masculine superlative; of ~qaea~: angry; wroth