Send a spelling or grammar correction to: Tracy Johnson
This site sponsored by Agenda Games LLC
Back to Empire on the HPe3000
... and ...
"Arise!" Nosnra commanded the assembled clan, " Arise and
look upon your slain kin!"
A feast was laid out in the Hall. Above the roasting pit, a
monstrous Aurochs bull now a well carved skeleton charring slowly over the
open fire. Barrels of ale larger than a tall man, stood at head and foot
o every table. Huge slabs of bread, served as edible plates set before
each feaster, were buried beneath thick-cut hunks of meat, burnt crisp
along their edge, but at heart raw red and dripping blood. Tubs of cabbage
mixed with pickled dwarven heads, clean shaved, a rare delicacy among the
hills. A dozen separate dishes, some hot and others cold, but most a
charnel horror of sentient flesh, human, elven, dwarven, all fair game
and sustaining meat among the giant-kind.
At the chiefs command each giant rose, benches scraped back across
the floor, then every eye, sad and with deep respect, turned toward the
pair of dead set before the Thegn's high table. Huon's wife had brought
their wedding shield, a huge kite of painted hide and wood, and placed
it on his arm. Young Eadnoth had found no mate, instead his brother gave
him a wanderers staff, no runes carved upon it, his betrothal quest
unlived, no tale ever to be told.
A breadplate of food was set for them, a huge flagon of ale beside
their hands. Their bodies had been washed of blood, their wounds sewn
tight and hidden, bloody clothes cut away then taken and soaked in oil.
A torch would have these rags wrapped round its head then set aflame, a
kindling wick to light the funeral pyre. Then each was dressed again in
their best finery and laid out with reverent care.
Each member of the clan, from eldest, Ingigerd the ancient crone,
to the youngest suckling babe, paced by the bodies of the dead. They
stopped and took a bite of food or sip from flagon or snip of cloth,
binding some fragment of their slain kin to the whole of the living
kindred.
Engenulf approached them last. He placed the flagon to their
lips and poured a tiny sip within, then took a pinch of bread and meat
and put it on their tongues. He gently closed their jaws, reached up
and shut their eyes then turned to face the gathered crowd and spoke
the final words.
"They Sleep!" The witan said. "Eat, now that they have tasted
their last food, drunk their final drink. We celebrate their life,
and in their death they become one with all the kindred. All who
have lived, all who live now, all who will one day come."
A roaring cheer was shouted loud from every throat, it shook the
rafters and the roof, and echoed down the hall. The feast began, the
giants set to and soon there came first chortles then choruses of merry
laughter. A snippet of a song erupted, flagons filled and emptied quick,
a fight broke out, a drunken brawl, a table was overturned, a dozen meals
upset.
Nosnra smiled at the sight, his people at play, it warmed his
heart. This wrongness he'd felt was gone for now, the dead at rest,
all was set aright.
* * *
(To Be Continued)