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90% A Farmer's Tale / Chapter 36: Chapter 36: Act 1: Chapter 29

Chapitre 36: Chapter 36: Act 1: Chapter 29

Fifth day, Fourth Moon, 244 AC

My family and I stood in the crowd near the back, since we were not particularly close to the deceased. Maecy had been the oldest person alive in the area and had lived to an incredible 77 years old. She had died four days ago, quietly and in her sleep, which was probably for the best. Ever since I had known her, she had been a cranky old lady, not that I blamed her. I think she had arthritis, because her joints had been in constant pain for years and had lived with the various pains and injuries collected over the years.

Meacy had lived a long life and had lived to see her great-great-grandchildren born. Of course, with such a long life, there was loss. Her husband died 20 years ago, and she had lost many family members to sickness and starvation. I had never really had any type of conversation with the woman, but I liked to think I made her life even just a little better – even if I hadn't done much to improve the lives of the fisherfolk directly, unlike the farmers in the area.

We all stood gathered in the weirwood to the east of the village to attend the funeral rites. Funeral rites were an intriguing ceremony for those that followed the old gods. I imagine it would have been somewhat similar to ancient pagan ceremonies back on Earth.

First, the deceased was laid on a pyre in a coffin for three days, while wearing an eslene, or a death shirt. The eslene was a clean white shirt that wrapped around the entire body. On the third day, like today, everyone came to pay their respects and light the pyre. The dead were surrounded by burning candles and rushes throughout the three days. Before the pyre was lit, a bowl of honey was placed atop the pyre.

Then the pyre was lit by Maecy's family - a symbolic gesture to show them sending off their loved one's soul to the afterlife. We didn't arrive until a few hours after the pyre was lit, since we were not close to the family, and only the immediate family stayed the whole time. We then waited our turn to offer condolences to the family.

The children were well behaved today, even Ryden and Arthur, as we had told them to be on their best behavior during this solemn gathering. Arthur was our youngest son, born back in 241AC, and loved to follow his older brother Ryden. Anari, our youngest daughter, was born just 3 months ago and Nyra was struggling to keep her quiet throughout the ceremony.

After we had given our condolences, we moved back to the village where there was a small feast prepared by the family, though all the families brought some food to share. Nyra didn't join us, as she had gone back to the house with Anari to put her down for her nap.

We all waited at the feast for the family to finally join us, as they were completing the last part of the funeral.

When a person dies, their family alerts their friends and, in this case, their community. The community then builds a pyre and coffin for the dead, while the family works on the other part of the funeral. After the dead are cremated, the family collects the ashes and brings it to a secret location to be buried. They then would place rocks above the site to mark it, though the style of grave marker varied wildly. Some built more complex markers, others placed just a sole rock to mark the site.

I had asked Nyra years ago about it, but no one seemed to know why the graves had to be secret, but I had a suspicion it was a remnant from the Ironborn occupation of the area from long ago.

It was about an hour later when the family joined us, and we all mingled about. The family themselves, were cloistered together – at least the older ones, while the younger went off to play – and the rest of the guests talked to each other and occasionally the family of the deceased.

The food was brought by everyone, like a potluck, so there was plenty of it and a lot of drink. Out of respect, the guests did not drink overly much, but after another hour people were in much higher spirits. The feast itself was more of a celebration of life, rather than focusing on death, but it still tended to not necessarily be an overly joyous event for adults.

I sat on the ground, with a few friends from the village, drinking and snacking a bit. My kids were playing with the other kids their age and having fun playing a variety of games, like tag, football, and ruggedball.

Rugged ball was an interesting story. When I had first introduced football, American football, people enjoyed it. Until someone broke a finger, at which point kids stopped being able to play it since parents didn't want to risk their children's health. So, I got people to play soccer instead, which was much less physical and was a huge hit. But people didn't like calling the sport that required you to use your hands football, and the one your feet soccer. After a while, soccer ended up being called football, while football was called ruggedball. Since the ball was more rugged. The adoption of 'flags' instead of tackling also made ruggedball more popular, though with the use of rags as flags, it was also called raggedball.

Jon and Carn, my friends, were both currently arguing over a new fishing boat.

"Nah! I tell 'ya, ain't no point! It's too much work, and not like we can sell much extra fish. Who's going to buy it, huh?" Argued Carn.

Jon snorted. "It makes sense! We build ourselves a big fishing boat, grab my boys and yours, then start hauling in lots of fish, just like they do down at the Fishing Village! You 'eard from Rodrick didn't 'ya? They haul lots o' fish there!"

I chuckled quietly to myself as I took another sip of mead. I did my best to stay out of the discussion, after all, it was the same one that they had been having for years. Jon and Carn were some of my closer friends, excluding family, even if most of their time revolved around fishing, rather than farming.

Carn took a large swig of mead and said, "Michael! Tell this fool he's being a fool!"

I raised my hands in protest. "Leave me out of this, you know I'm awful with boats."

"Come on, your good with coin though! Tell him there's no more coin to be had!" Carn wheedled.

"Meh, there's always more coin to be had. But I guess, in this case, there's not much. People create wealth, and there's not enough people in the area to have any wealth. You would have to travel, probably northwards to Deepwood area. Even then, there's already fishermen in the area."

"See!" Carn turned back to Jon and wagged his finger. "Ain't no reason! Now, why don't you go and grab us some more food to, uh, show you're a good loser."

Jon grumbled as he stood up and walked over to the tables.

Carn gave me a conspiratorial grin and a wink. I just gave a laugh while he pulled out a little pouch from his pocket.

He offered me the pouch and said, "Want a piece of gum? I've got a new flavor today. Mixed in some oregano and mint into the spruce pitch."

I popped one in my mouth and gave it a few experimental chews. Boy! That was a strong flavor! I started coughing and had to spit out the gum.

"That's a strong flavor!"

"But good right?"

"Eh, don't know if I would go that far," I said with a laugh.

"Aw, come on. It's good!" He gave a few exaggerated chews to emphasize his point.

I washed the taste out of my mouth with the last of my mead, as Jon returned with more food. He had grabbed a few buns for us and stuffed them with some goat that someone had cooked up for us.

I ate eagerly, even though it wasn't as good as my family's regular cooking.

After Jon finished his sandwich, he said, "Fine then. You know, I think this summer I'll take a trip up to Deepwood myself. Sell some fish and buy some goods for my family. Heard about it enough from you Michael, figure I should see the place too."

I nodded. "Aye, that sounds good. You can get pretty close to the town itself if you follow the rivers inland from the coast nearby. You'd have to ask the locals though, I don't think I've got any good maps of the area that show the rivers."

Carn rolled his eyes. "Stop encouraging the man! Ain't no point to it, you said it before!"

"I said, there wasn't much money in the area to justify building a big ass boat. Using the boats, you already have, you could actually make it through the rivers and sell directly in the town. Sell some dried cod, and you can probably make enough money to justify the trip."

Jon grinned and said, "See! I'm bold, not stupid! Oh, by the way Michael, is Violet still coming to my Jess' nameday next week?"

I nodded. "Aye, she's been talking about nothing else for the last moon."

Just then, an older man stumbled past them shouting about the next village over being shoe stealers.

"What's Jory on about now?" asked Carn.

Jon shrugged. "Crazy old coot. Looks drunk."

Carn tutted. "Shouldn't say things about the elders. They got lots o' wisdom. 'Sides, when we get to be the elders, you want the young ones to treat us right and good, don'tchya?"

I laughed. "Just 'cause they're old doesn't mean their smart. Dumb young people can become dumb old people."

Jon rolled his eyes. "Michael's right. Jory is crazy and a drunk. I mean, what's he on about now with the shoes? Is he talking about that trader that came through the other week and bought a pair of boots from Bronn's family? How's that stealing?"

"Damned if I know. I tend to ignore and avoid Jory," I said.

As I relaxed in the open field, drinking with my friends, life was good.


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