Chapter 52 - the Festival I
Night finally fell on the first day of the festival. The locals in the southern border lands, normally had a gathering and a party of some kind to celebrate the end of summer coming. This was a custom that was born out of practicality. It was nearing the end of summer, and crops were coming in. To a farming area, this was a time of plenty. Fresh meat, fresh vegetables. Fresh everything.
Left over from the old ways, there had been four important holidays from the oldest of times. The longest day with the shortest night, marked the middle of summer. The days that had been growing longer, and nights growing shorter. Likewise, there was the shortest day of the year, with the longest night to go with it. The dead of winter. Now, the nights would grow shorter and the days would begin to once again, slowly grow longer.
These, were the summer and winter solstice. Two other equally important holidays were celebrated, as well. Between each, were the time when the days and nights were equal in length, before passing over. The spring and fall equinox.
Eira and Ryeamund had simply scheduled their own party they wished, to fall around the autumn equinox. A great time for it to happen. Normally, the locals would gather into their own little feasts as they arranged them for themselves. Eira and Little Rye simply put them all together, to let everyone enjoy themselves.
As night began to draw close on the first day of this great festival they had arranged, Ryeamund finally rose up. It was his land, it was his place to announce anything.
"Aye. Is everyone enjoying all the good food and drink, then."
He got calls back that everyone was having fun.
"I am not a great reckoner. I am, sadly, but a low reckoning man. Now. My wife here, the Lady Eira. She, is a high reckoner. She would have great reckoned words to say what I would say plain. Yet, I lived in the far north. Their ways? Are my ways. It is my place to say things. I reckon as a farmer, I reckon as a blacksmith, and I reckon as a woodcutter. And so, forgive my rough words."
"This? Is a time of plenty. It is the beginning of the end of summer. All is easy, all is in plenty. Winter is long past. The hard work of spring and summer, seeing to the farms? Growing to a close. We should enjoy it. And, do we?"
Little cheers went up, from the locals. The far north-men in attendance, sat at his own big table, and at tables on either side of it. They were louder, as was their custom. They yelled and beat on the tables with their hands.
"In the far north? It is our custom, to have a feast as we are having. To celebrate seeing a son go from a young man… to a man. My youngest son, Shan. He is a man now. To Shan, then… declared a man."
The locals toasted Shan, as was polite to do. The north-men however, took turns standing up and toasting him back. Good nature things out of them, adding to more than the toast repeated back. Mostly concerning things a man did, that a young man did not. With girls, primarily. The north-men were known for their dry wit among other things, and each got chuckles and yells for their sly wit hinting at such things.
"Aye. You are a man now, Shan. It is our custom in the north, as here… that a man wench about now. A search for a wife. And, do you have a wench?"
"Aye, father. She sits right there. The Lady Gullina."
"Well? If she wishes you to have her sign coin? She might give it to you. If you wish? You can accept it, and wear it. So other girls know, you are spoken for."
Gullina blushed, and went quickly and put her leather corded coin on his neck for him.
"Gullina? I am pleased. My wife is pleased. I hope Shan is pleased."
The north-men hammered and hooted more than the locals, naturally.
"Aye. I do not hear any complaining out of him on this matter."
More north-men noise and gentle commotion.
"We are celebrating the plenty that the end of summer brings. Yet, the kingdom. It now enjoys a time of plenty as well. The kingdom was once a frail thing. Each petty king fought the next over on each side. A great man rose up? And brought order. It was hard work. As a farmer does in the spring. Then? The Troubles broke out, and all that work needed done again, and even more. For the kingdom? It was all the great work of summer, for a farmer. Long days of the hardest work. Short nights of rest."
People nodded and agreed. It had been so.
"Aye. The great man that rose up, and gave us all this? The North Star. No petty king. No perfumed twat. Everyone knows, the North Star? Rode at the very front of his men. He was the first into battle, and the last to leave it. No ordinary man could have forged the kingdom. Nor handled it two more times. Trying to do so? Would be all but madness."
No one said anything.
"And so? It took a madman to rise up and meet that challenge. And he did. Or? We would all have nothing. To the North Star! Our mad king! His works are true!"
This got noise and commotion. Not the least of all, out of the north-men's tables. Many of them were in cleaned and well-oiled armor and had their weapons with them, as was their custom.
"Aye. And in the beginning. Before it all. One man came first, to the North Star, back in those dark days. A young lord. What we in the north call a BladdenMeister. A master sword-man. You see, the North Star? Was then but a high reckoner. A man for scrolls, and wisdom. This young Rhyshian lord, this BladeMaster. He went and stood with him. The first man. Other Rhyshian lords saw this, and they came, as well. This first man? His name was Wulfgar. He became known as The Wolf. He fought at the very side of the North Star. In every battle. All through The Forging. All through The Great troubles. Then yet again? In the great battle for the corridor. He never once left the North Star's side. He is as much to thank, as the North Star himself."
Some light commotion.
"To Wulfgar! The North Star's own Wolf!"
This got what it should have brought. Especially from the north-men.
"Aye. The North Star? Is a great man for battle. They do say, that when he rides at the front of all his men? It is as if being led into battle, by Odin himself. We all call these battles? Great battles. Yet.. there is nothing great about battle. Men die. All is ruined for the battle. Sons grow up without fathers. Battle, is not so great a thing. I have seen it? I would have my farm, and peace. The North Star? Is also a wise and gentle ruler. He sees to peace, and order, and plenty."
"Men lead other men, the king's own men. These big-men you see in armor here around me? They are kingsmen. They protect the high king's pickles. The regular folk that make up his people he leads. To the kingsmen, that protect us with their lives!"
Toasts.
"Aye. Men that lead other men? Heyermannen. The higher man. Wulfgar? The king's own Wolf. He, is heyermannen, to all the heyermannen. This, is order. This, stops chaos. All men, serve another. Even the North Star, from his own lips? Proclaims it. That he serves Odin. To order!"
Toasts.
"Now. For those of you who do not know. We have great men here with us. Come down from the far north, to my festival. You have before you, the high king himself. His name? Is Stuart. He asks that men not kneel and grovel before him, that is for the little men, in the out-lands. Yes, people. Your high king? Is here with you. To this festival…"
Ryeamund pointed at Stuart.
"Again. To the North Star!"
Toasts and commotion.
"Again! To Wulfgar!"
Again.
"And. These men here… these are the Oxen. That big ox, in the middle? That, is Arroch. The heyermannen, to the Oxen. These men fought with the high king and Wulfgar, in the corridor battle. I was there, I saw it. I was once an Oxen. It was a great battle, but as I said. Battle, is not such a great thing. We are all lucky, to be alive. So, I will not toast the great corridor battle. A toast? To the peace, the security, the plenty that it brought. To order!"
Again.
"The first half of my life? I was born and raised here, in the unruly south-lands. The second half of my life? Among the north-men, in the far north. I prefer the high north. It is more orderly. We have a custom up there, that brings about this order. It is called… a garten. They call it… a KinderGarten. A garden for children. The children? Learn wisdom. To scribble, to reckon. It costs you no coin to send your children there, and for as long as you wish. The children learn more than to reckon and scribble, as you will see in the coming days."
"Wulfgar. Heyermannen, to all the other heyermannen? The words from his own lips. I can teach nearly any man to swing a sword. Yet, I first look for reckoning, and high character. Only the garten? Can give this. The highest station a man can get to? Is to be declared a lord. First a high reckoner, then if his character is true? He can become a lord. My youngest son, Shan. I am pleased that he is both a high reckoner, and… a declared lord. To the garten!"
The locals toasted the garten politely, though they thought of it as little more than a convenient place to keep the children out of their hair, when they wished it. The north-men, though. They hammered and hooted for it as anything else toasted.
"Aye. I can see who places value on the garten, and who places less on it. That? Is fine. Do as you will. Now. Gullina here? Now sitting with my son Shan. Making eyes at him. She is the Lady Gullina now. She? Attended the garten many winters, every day, with him. As a man wants to become a high reckoner, then a lord? A girl wants to be a high reckoner, then declared a kingmaker. She has. She? Is the Lady Gullina. You see, she wears my wife's sign coin. Well, Shan wears it. My wife, Eira. She is the Lady Eira. A kingmaker."
"Again. To the garten!"
Much the same, little from the locals, about all from the north-men.
"Now. A little light entertainment. As night falls. The children learn things other than wisdom and reckoning at the garten. They all learn dance, and tricks. It makes them nimble, and agile. So? You can have fun watching dancing and meadow tricks. Enjoy."
"To the garten!"
Var, Hlin, Syn. Joined by Eira and also Shan… did dance and meadow tricks. What today would be thought of as professional dance, and gymnastics. To the great surprise of everyone there? Even Wulfgar and Stuart himself danced some with them a little at the end. Eira and Shan even had a few young girls from the garten that were better than the others with them.
It was painfully obvious, that all of them were quite light on their feet. Var was obviously the best at dancing and gymnastics. At the end, other people took to dancing as well. The tavern-keeper's oldest daughter played two flutes, and Shan played the low parts for her on one, while she did the more complicated upper parts. Even Gareen and Mekall and Ryeamund himself, lost their heavy armor and danced some as well.
Shan naturally got pointed at and chuckled at, for being in the dancing and meadow trick's outfit. The tights and leather slippers they all wore. No one dared to point and laugh at the high king, when he danced though. Nor Wulfgar. Who was said to have killed more men than old age and disease ever once did. Wulfgar, even put on a pair of the signature tight leather slippers and did dancing and even a few meadow tricks as well. Shan just smiled and waved back easily, as laughter and remarks came his way.
The rest of the evening? A slow roasted and smoked boar was done. Long trays of vegetables and breads and fruits. Everyone ate, drank, and had fun. Men danced with their wives, young men danced with their wenches. Wulfgar and the high king? Even danced a good bit with many of the younger children, that were good at it from the garten.
Lots of food, drink, laughter, music, dancing, toasts. Always the best way to start out any festival.