I'm slowing catching up on my email again - which seems to be the story of my life lately. :)
I shared this with the Fire Tribe group a few days ago, and thought it might be worth sharing further, if only as Friday filk. It will also appear eventually on Questlines. A filthy, muddy little tale of why the Tovtaros Orlanthi of the Rain Gors befriended the ducks, and other mysteries. It contains a modicum of broad language.
"For the Rain it Raineth Every Day" - Tales of Lagerwater Stead
9, THE DUCK BOARDS
"As roll a thousand clouds to Skygash, so the hosts of Sangkavar came on.
As meet above the Spider's house a thousand broken clouds, so the kin of
Tovar met those of Sangkavar of the Leaden Club. And as Sky Titan faced
Empty Korang, so the fyrdmen faced their foe, and their blood that day ran
as rain from Skygash on high. "
"Steady lad, you'll send yourself keeling! You can't just barge through the
yard like that, you'll end up arse over tit in the mud. It has its own life
you know - 'twill suck you down and leave your bones for the lynxes. Stick
to the duckboards till you're more used to our ways, they're firmer than
they seem. A blessing and a gift, those duckboards...
"You'll hear it told in Pavis and Furthest and Boldhome that the Far Place
is a miserable, sodden, rainy soak of a swamp. Tell that to the Alda Churi,
or to the Princeros! It's true only here under the rain cloak of Skyfall,
where Old Man Skyriver pours from the heaven-gash down to the helldeep lake
of the Uz. Of the human tribes, only we Tovtaros have built steads in
these rain-lashed gors of the north, and here we full expect our daily
storm and shower.
"We've paid full geld for it, truth be known. Any of my kin can name for
you all ninety of Heler's rainy lovers--from Desardra, the warm early
morning rain that falls from a clear sky, to chill Deskoras, the
darkness-tinged silence that sits brooding on our valley before each
thunderstorm. We know 'em all, in all their moods and humours!
"It's always rained here, ever since Skyriver battled Korang the Slayer in
the Great Before. So the earth has learned to resist the wyrd of water, and
turned itself to thick, red clay. The plants and trees reach high in this
place, and they put down mighty roots, and will weave themselves a'gether
in a thick matting. Good Barntar struggles here, but he has gifted us
minature grains that do well enough in the wet, and vegetables aplenty. We
rely on the the bounty of the Wild Mother as well as on Ploughson, and
honour them both at our altars.
"Heler has gifted our tribe with flocks of Fat-Tail, hardy milking-sheep
that love the rain. They have a thick greasy wool that sheds the daily
drenching, but they're stupid, stupid even for sheep, and so require close
tending. The herders can be a bit thick as well, especially those Kinlini...
"Our ancestors despaired for their cattle herds 'til Roxos Barnstomper
journeyed up the Skyriver to Heler's longhouse on Three Height Mountain,
where he stole a bluehorn bull from the god's own herd. Now that's a raid
worth telling! The bull was Horny Blue, sire of all our present herds. Tup
anything on four legs, would that one, and his breed are gentle as mist if
a cow, but fierce as a deluge if born a bull. A hardy breed that love the
rain, our bluehorns, just right for the uplands--gruff, surly, and
short-sighted. Heler sought justice upon us for the theft of course, but
that's another tale...
"The duckboards? Listen up while you scrape the muck off your boots. The
first of the Far Walkers despised the Durulz, queer little duck folk they
were, and we raided them and took tribute, for we are the greater race in
cunning and in arms. The ancestors drove them out of their villages and
water steads back to the great marsh from whence they came, or else we set
them to keep vegetable gardens for tribute. And while we lorded it over
them, we lived our lives ankle deep in mud. Now, I ask you, have you ever
seen a muddy duck? No, Nor I!
"Spirits of rain and earth made love upon our lands, and their clinging
offspring made a misery of our lives. Our yards and cattle runs were
churned to a thick plashy slough by the tramp of man and beast. Only the
temples of the Earth stood firm. Mud everywhere! I tell you, boots got
lost, tools got lost, why calves and children and grandmothers all got
lost, sucked down beneath the slop and muddle!
"T'was because of the clinging mud we first foresook our boots, and learned
to walk the tula and the wilderness bare. The Odaylans went barefoot
anyway: by the feats of their god they could walk on snow and mud without a
trace, and they tattooed their bare feet in the rite of mastery. Soon all
the herders and goose girls and even the Barnatari were following their
example, and so we trampsed through the mud a bit easier, and didn't have
to worry 'bout losing our boots. You should try it lad; your feet harden up
after a while. Later, the Animal Twins were able to teach even
stead-dwellers the bluefoot mysteries, and so it is that all the world
knows us as the Bluefoot Orlanthi.
"Anyways, one day a trader of the Durulz came with a delegation of his kin
to Lagerwater. He offered to trade a great mud-secret in return for his
people's freedom. Well the old men laughed at this, and went to call those
of the thanes who had not slid beneath the slime. They found but a few, and
those said no, and laughed even louder, and went to fetch what weapons had
not been sucked beneath the slough. Finding but few, they called to the
fyrdmen, and the fyrd fumbled through the muck and muddle in search of
their spears.
"Then the women came out to see what was happening, the women whose fine
dresses were stained to the knees with muck and sludge, and whose shining
copper-bright hearths were always being soiled with the tramp of muddy
feet. Well I tell you, the women didn't laugh.
"The wives and sisters looked at the ducks, and saw how they were clean and
spotless despite their long journey. They looked at each each other, and at
their dresses, and it was decided there and then without a word. The
chief's wife hurried off to tell him what he must do. For isn't the women's
moot - the first moot, the moot of the loom - the most powerful of all?
"So it was that we made peace with the small folk, and promised to honour
them as allies, and demand no more tribute, but rather share gifts of
friendship.
"We feasted the elder beak folk for three days and nights. Then Dryfeather
Tallwaddle (for such the trader was called) took the wains into the
workshops of Lagerwater, and there they laboured for a full day and a
night. Then they laid the first of the stead's duckboards, from the
feasting hall to the three main lodges. Dryfeather taught us the runes to
carve into each board, and the magic songs and rituals to use when laying them.
"So it is, to this day and forever, the Tresdarnii give honour to the small
folk of the Durulz. Most are gone from these parts, apart from Silverquill
the grey sage, and that idiot bandit on the Ironspike trail. But we honour
them when we meet, and exchange songs and salt together. And to this day
and forever, on the first step beyond the lodge, we sing a phrase of the
'Dry Foot Quacking Song', that the duckboards remain where they should. And
though it rain and it pour, and the rivers swell and rumble, our feet, be
they booted or bare, remain dry and clean, and our shining hearths remain
free of mud and discord.
"There's a lad, you'll be better off not wearing boots about the yard. But
before you enter a hearth, ask for a bowl, and clean your feet, good and
proper like. And if you must wear your fancy southern boots, be sure you
take 'em off afores you go indoors. Never show your boots at a hearth, lad.
The gods may be fierce, but they've nothing on an angry hearthmistress...
Red Dangar The Wright (Heldarnii, Male, 47 years, Devotee of Orstan)
Work Wood 4w2, Spin a Myth 7w, Make No Effort 12w.
Silverquill the Grey Sage (Wandering Durulz, Female, Devotee of Chernan the Seeker)
Explore Youfish Ruins 3w, Youfish Mythology 19, Close-Beaked 12w.
Dread Quackbeth the Hueymakt (One-legged Durulz bandit, Male, Devotee of Hueymakt)
Close Combat 12w2, Stwand and Delibber 7w, Exasperwate 19, Quack Fu 18, Feel Insecure 12w.
The Durultz also eventually shared the secret of the Dry Thatching Song, though that was much more complicated. I don't know that story, and would be delighted if anyone could tell us how it happened.
Cheers
John
John Hughes
Centre for Aboriginal Economic Policy Research
Hanna Neumann Building 21
The Australian National University
T: +61 2 6125 0649 F: +61 2 6125 9730 W: www.anu.edu.au/caepr
CRICOS Provider #00120C
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