The Book of Gilgakkur

The following is the English translation of the Book of Gilgaccur, the seventh addition to the Inkling Sagas.

=A Storm’s Gift=

A cold and stern wind swept in from the grey sea and battered Kidbsiag, a wide and bulky hill which had given its name to the surrounding coastline. Near the base of the hill a small flat section of land stretched until it took a sudden dip down where the beach began. The colour of sand was overwhelmed by the grey stones that lay scattered all over the shore. Further back on the flat land was a large hut made of hide and wood. The hut was built cleverly and sturdy for it took no notice of the wind besides the doorway made of hide that flapped in the wind. The entrance was opened by a pair of old weathered hands with thick skin, almost like leather gloves. An old crone emerged from the hut and took a few steps towards the beach before calling out with a hoarse voice. “Garkasi! I told you already to stop playing around! The tide will soon be in so hurry up and collect as much shellfish as you can, and find your brother, he could collect some seaweed before the tide returns. The weather looks grim so hurry!”

The small boy who was building a small mound with stones sighed and rose up from a squat. Garkasi found some shellfish and then went looking for his older brother. Garkasi saw no sight of him on the coast so he wandered further down the coast where the beach curved into a corner, hoping the new sight around there would bring news of his brother. Sure enough around the bend he caught sight of a man hunching over something.

“Sikas! What are you doing? Granny Ismăsmi says that you must collect seaweed before the tide comes in.”

The little boy ran to meet his brother to see what he was looking at. When he got a bit nearer it looked as if it was a dead seal, but when he reached Sikas he saw that it was in fact a man lying on the ground.

“Who is that, Sikas? Is he dead?”

“I don't know. I saw the sea bring him upon the shore. I don't know what he is. He looks quite odd don't you think? See how grey his skin is, and how short his hair. His clothes look so thin.” The two brothers stood over the wet and unconscious man. They gazed curiously at him as if he were some unknown creature rather than a man. Suddenly a gasp came from the man, dispelling all doubt that he was dead.

Sikas then commanded his little brother to ran back to the hut to tell Granny and the others of what was about to arrive. The older brother then hoisted the mysterious man onto his back and he carried him to the hut before the nearby storm arrived.

“Granny Ismăsmi! Sikas found a man from the sea! We thought he was dead but he spat out seawater. Can we bring him here?”

Granny Ismăsmi looked bewildered, thinking that the excited young boy’s words were some joke or game. She was only more confused when Sikas entered the hut with a stranger on his back.

“Who is that?!” Granny Ismăsmi shouted out of surprise.

“We don't know. He is some spirit from the sea. He feels frozen and lifeless but he is alive. Make some space by the fire so we can heat him up and thaw his flesh.”

Quickly Granny shooed away her two granddaughters away from the fire so they could lay the stranger down. His skin was frozen to the touch, it also had a sickly looking grey colour which contrasted with the snow white colour of the family's skin.

Granny commanded her youngest granddaughter: “Gedda! Fetch some more wood and throw it on the fire. We need to raise the temperature in here before the sea spirit dies.”

Right away the young granddaughter fled the tent and searched for firewood. Little Garkasi sat near the man, prodding him with a stick.

“Enough of that little one. The man has enough worries beyond you and your stick. Why don't you huddle up with the dogs over there while we tend to the man.” Sikas ordered his brother away with an strict voice. Garkasi pouted as he snuggled into a huddle of warm and furry dogs. Sikas kept watch over the man while Granny just stood by the entrance of the hut with her arms crossed. She wasn't too pleased about the whole episode.

“You said he came from the sea didn't you? He could only have washed up from the south. What if he came from Bėsowrimau?! Look at his grey skin! He is some wicked spirit from the south, come to torment us!”

“Enough Granny” Sikas butted in. “He doesn't look like one of them. He is much too bulky and short. He is some other spirit. I wonder were he came from.”

This shut up the old hag who then resigned to rest by the hut’s wall under a pile of furs. “Your father should be back soon, he’ll know what to do.”

For a short while Granny rested in her furs and Garkasi rested with the dogs. Sikas and Gedda sat by the fire, looking over the grey stranger.

Just when the wind’s moan had become a howl, a figure entered the hut. The cold gust that he brought with him through the door woke Granny up so she could continue her rants. “Look at what your son has brought back, Dirjissi. Some grey spirit from the sea!” The man set aside his spear and placed it alongside his newly caught prey, a small doe. He approached the unconscious man while gripping onto his knife.

“Relax, father. He has barely moved since we found him. He doesn't seem to be dangerous.”

“What is he?” The father's deep voice filled the hut.

“I don't know. Some strange spirit from the sea I think.”

The father squatted near the unconscious man's side to take a closer look.

“His skin, so grey, could he have come from the south? If so I will not harbour a demon in my hut.” “No, like I told Granny, he isn't skinny or lanky enough to be one of them.”

When Sikas finished those words a coughing sound filled the air, followed by a silence. The grey skinned man woke up, his flesh now warm and his blood flowing freely in his veins. He sat up and clutched his head. He was so groggy that he barely took note of his surroundings for a few moments. It was when he managed to open his eyes that he found himself in a strange hut, surrounded by a strange looking people. The man had never seen skin so white. The foreign fur clothes suggested he was far from home. The man’s face was dripping with confusion and shock and the faces of his hosts were no different. Dirjissi tried to speak with the man to ask him questions but every word was in vain for the man only replied with gibberish.

“This is some spirit’s language” Granny accused.

Sikas suggested otherwise: “I think he is just struck dumb with shock. Maybe his speech will return soon.”

Both were wrong however. Even after they offered warm food and drink the man could not speak with sensible words. When night came in Sikas gave some fur blankets to the man so that he would sleep warm and comfortably.

The next day the same problem was had. The stranger could not speak but he seemed to be no threat. The morning was calm and still so the brothers Garkasi and Sikas led the man outside, with Granny muttering under her breath as they walked by her on their way out. The strange man pushed aside the cloths at the entrance and was ambushed by a cold shiver that woke every corner of his mind. Every breath drew in cold air which woke up the body as if it had been in a deep sleep until that moment. The sight was no less shocking to the man. The large imposing hill, the stony beach, the grey and harsh sea, all of this screamed to him that he was in a foreign land. He stood there shivering, his thin clothes were not built for the cold. Sikas went back into the hut and came out with some fur clothes. Sikas handed them to the man and pointed to the clothes then to the man, gesturing him to put them on. The man did just that without wasting time and soon found that he was warm and snug. The grey man couldn't help but feel tiny next to his hosts. Dirjissi and Sikas towered over him, Granny was of similar height while the children Garkasi and Gedda were only a bit shorter than him. A bit later in that day, Dirjissi suggested that they take the grey man to see his other son, Idigrid. Idigrid was a witchdoctor so maybe he could heal the man of his dumb and gibberish speech. The rest of the family agreed and decided to visit Idigrid the next day.

The next morning the grey man had a rather rude awakening. He came out of his slumber to find one of the dogs licking at his face with a big slobbering tongue. The man looked disgusted, he pushed away the dog’s face and stood up. He was served a warm meal before being lead outside the hut. There he saw his hosts gather the dogs together, binding them by rope to, what looked to him like a large wheel-less cart, a sleigh. He was definitely surprised when he was led onto the sleigh by Dirjissi. Once the the two men were onboard, Dirjissi took hold of a rope and commanded the dogs to run, taking the sleigh and the men with them. Dirjissi couldn't understand what the grey man uttered but he assumed it was an exclamation of awe. They left Sikas and Garkasi behind with Gedda and Granny. By noon they had travelled some distance up the coast until they reached another hut. This one was different than the last for it was made of stone and mud and seemed to be dug into the ground somewhat for there was a large step down when entering through the door and the floor was very low. When the two men entered the hut they were greeted by Dirjissi’s eldest son Idigrid the Witchdoctor. As if the grey man hadn't shown enough surprise, he gawked at Idigrid’s blue tattoo which adorned his face. In the middle of the hut was a burning fire, near which a woman lay under some blankets while an older woman sat by her. Dirjissi and Idigrid both raised their left arms and held a relaxed fist before their faces. The grey man correctly assumed this was our style of greeting.

Dirjissi spoke first: “My son, how is your sister doing? Is she feeling any better?” “Relax, she is recovering just fine. Mum has been worrying enough about her for the both of you, not that she needs to. Hanir will be healthy and hale very soon. But I see you’ve brought a stranger with you…one with odd skin and short hair…who is he and why is he here?”

“Sikas found him washed up on the shore two days ago. He was unconscious at first but we nursed him back to health.”

The witchdoctor let out a quick hum: “If you nursed him to health then why did you bring him here?” “Well. The man is dumb, he can't speak right. All he can do is make garbled noise. Your Granny says he is some demon from Bėsowrimau and he speaks some wicked language”

Idigrid scrunched his brows: “You know he is much too short and stout to be one of them, right?” “Try telling your Granny that she is wrong” Dirjissi chuckled in response. “Sikas thinks his injuries have took away his ability to speak. Is there anything you could do to restore his speech?”

“I can try” said Idigrid.

The witchdoctor rustled through some items in a bag and produced a buzzard's feather which he placed in a small pit. He then sat down in the small pit in the ground. It was shallow so that his torso and face stood out from the pit. Idigrid closed his eyes to begin his divination. Idigrid’s mind drifted and it found company with Maawatarraa, the god of language and speech.

“O Maawatarraa, I beg you for help. A man with a broken voice has come to me. How can I make it so that he will speak clear and well?”

The god sighed and gave a rather rude reply: “You idiots, the man can speak perfectly well by the measure of his own people. He comes from another land where their language is different from yours. He is speaking Gummi if you must know. But to answer your request…yes I will allow him to speak with you. I grant him the ability to speak Sumrë as well as any native of your land. I do have one condition for this gift. The man has an ability to make weapons from metal, weapons that put your own to shame, tell him that he must make the finest sword he has ever made and present it as a gift to me. If he fails this task then he, along with you and your kin, will be harassed by buzzards from the sky. Now wake up and share this news.”

The witchdoctor opened his eyes wide. “It is done! Your friend can now speak as well as any man!” To his great surprise, the man understood these words. No longer were these people speaking gibberish, now they spoke clear to him. Not only that, when he spoke he did so with new words that were unfamiliar yet known to him.

The witchdoctor wasted no time in explaining the conditions of this gift. The news fell grave upon Dirjissi and the man but Dirjissi was quick to ask the grey man questions.

“What is your name, who are you? where are you from?”

Finally the grey man spoke: “I am Blasuuni of Maotilaho.”