Chapter 40 - Pioneers
Serpentine Estuary. SE Britain
The currents are strong for poor little Lanella to traverse using a single paddle, nevertheless she is determined. Saabiaske has lost all consciousness. Sometimes the spirits of the dead steal the use of his tongue. Lanella needs to get him to a healer.
The Serpentine river has spilled its waters past islands of mud, populated by seals and wading birds. Lanella must cross over to the waters of the South, and rush to make use of the slack between tides. She must follow the salt-marsh islands of the southern shore, to reach the mouth of another river sharing this estuary. Down that waterway, she knows of great healers among the Leva. She knows their encampment well, for it was there she'd grown up as an orphan.
Lanella spots a long canoe coming from the south, their courses set to pass close. She is concerned. It is the bark canoe of competitors in an aggressive trade, who call themselves the Tiaa. Piracy can be a hazard on this estuary. As the long canoe nears, Lanella sees no bows or spears raised by its crew.
Some of the faces of individuals, Lanella recognises. They smile and one gives a friendly wave as they pass. Lanella does not want to worry her unconscious man.
She mutters, ‘The waters here are too rough for those Tiaa to attempt to board our vessel. They pass out of any range of spear and we’re safe’. The Tiaa boat slips further away towards northern shores, and soon the threat diminishes in size. Lanella’s mind remains troubled with concern for her mate,
‘Saabiaske my love, soon all shall be well. I know of a strawman, a powerful healer. Not far now. Stay strong my love, stay strong’. Tears blur her vision.
The Healer
‘This savage man will soon die’ complains the priest, ‘he loses too much blood from his wound’. Despite his pessimism, this strawman of the Leva is renowned for his abilities. He has removed every splinter, and cleaned the infections of malicious spirits. Lanella knows his pessimism is fuelled both by his barbarian prejudices, and by a desire to up his price. He continues to make dire prophecies,
‘The spear point left injurious magic, and his flesh is rancid’. Again, he shrugs shoulders, ‘this savage will soon die’.
Lanella knows this healer has performed medical miracles on others. The Bullmen priests had all departed camp to attend a funeral at the tomb of stones, where a pioneer from north of the estuary, had brought bones of his grown son to intern. However, Lanella knows the Strawman has a weakness for young women. She flirts at him with her eyes. The old man blushes, as he dabs his poultice around Saabiaske’s wound.
Lanella tells the Strawman, ‘He is strong’.
‘As is an ox,’ retorts the healer, ‘yet I have known such beasts to fade in the presence of frightful spirits’.
She encourages, ‘I’ve been told your magic is greater than that of the Frog-witches! I would be grateful if you try to save his life’.
‘How grateful?’ He negotiates.
‘Strawman, do your best magic and tonight I'll keep you warm on your cot. I promise that you'll be smiling in the morning. I'll grant to you my man’s treasured axe of smooth stone, and sacred yew wood’.
Saabiaske doesn’t die on the sick bed of a strawman’s house. He fights the infection. A few days later, the healer pronounces,
‘My divinations favour his recovery. I think some ancestors reserve the life of your savage’.
Lanella mops Saabiaske’s brow. Following a night of delirium, he remains weak. From the strawman’s cot, she'd heard some of Saabiaske’s more lucid screams,
‘The storm beast, the ghost of the bull!’
She was unable to come to his aid. That old strawman had been surprisingly persistent in claiming his price from her flesh, through the night, and the next. He rises from his cot with a smile, as Lanella is left sore. Finally she attends to her own man. The damaged area of Saabiaske’s shoulder doesn’t smell foul. It shines bright red with healing. This is encouraging. Soon the fever will pass. Lanella doesn’t wish to entertain the lecherous old strawman for too many more nights. She needs to get Saabiaske to another sanctuary where he can rest and heal.
The bullman funeral party returned from the tomb of stones. Lanella witnessed their ceremonial march back to the Pioneers’ great hall of timber. Among this funerary party, Lanella recognised a grey bearded face. A nearby old Leva woman of low caste had gossiped to her, ‘He is the father of the young man who died. An elder of the pioneers north of the estuary’. Lanella recognised him from her own youth here. This could be her opportunity.
Another night spent with a dirty old healer intent on impregnating her, and Lanella is out and about in the Leva camp. She takes clean fresh air, and searches for her chance. She finds it when she sees that bereaved elderman. He’s rummaging through supplies to take back with him on return to his pioneer camp north of the estuary. Except for her red-dyed hair, Lanella has the traits of any fair-skinned barbarian maiden. This she exploits when she approaches this man,
‘Isn’t it Elderman Paaxti? I wish to offer my condolences on the loss of your son’.
‘Thank you young woman’ he cautiously responds, ‘do I know you from somewhere?’
‘My name is Lanella, and I was born to a wildborn woman in the orphan camp up the trail’ she points up a narrow path through the gardens. ‘My mother was named Bethwillo, and I remember you would often visit her den’.
He blushes, and confesses, ‘Of course I remember your mother. I haven’t seen you for some time in this camp. Do you dwell here?’
‘I’m now the wife of a gift exchanger named Saabiaske. Often we visit, but elsewise we paddle the waters of the Serpentine’.
‘Yes, now I remember you as Bethwillo’s young daughter. I wouldn't have known. You have grown up to be such a beautiful young woman’.
She knows he hints at her low caste orphan roots. It had been such prejudice that had induced her to follow Saabiaske onto the waterways, and away from this place. She ignores any slur,
‘Elderman Paaxti, I’ve been told of your fame as a pioneer, and you now garden from a camp on the north side of the estuary, on the edges of the wilds. Tell me, is it all well within that land?’
‘The soils and pastures are fertile. The savages were driven away. Its forests are resistant, our axes are determined. We lack talented priests in Oma, and we have a young widow who invites an evil to plague our peace’.
Lanella fishes for refuge,
‘My husband has been injured by savages, though he heals well. We hope to become pioneer farmers ourselves. Perhaps we could join you on your return to this camp of Oma?’ And thus, Lanella wins their future as barbarians.