11.5
Jewel mused on how similar she was to the isle she stood upon.
The rock and stone broke the waters around them and held aloft a keep at a great height from the silty banks and depths of the Vah.
The sun half eclipsed by the western peaks as it slowly slipped away from the vault of the sky.
And here amidst a Festival as much made by her own command as the seemingly endless effort of the people around her Jewel felt like this island. Her neck well above all of them as they moved around her.
Currents and eddies of conversation. All but three of her vassals in attendance, and of those that were not here a trusted heir or other representative was still present.
Twenty-Eight households or entourages poured into the grounds of the Kaeketeh Keep.
Hundreds of meals made for them all. The price for hospitality provided to so many was an astounding cost in silver.
Not as much as that which was spent on Jewel’s wedding. The accounts of Viznove would be bled dry attempting even half that so often. Bathory’s death was still far too recent after the expenses had been made.
But still it was the single greatest weight exchanged in silver Jewel had ever personally counted.
And yet even with all the riches spent on this single day Jewel had followed the exchange. In tithes, tax and fee Viznove would fill her treasury once more by next year.
The accounts going back years promised that she would make back this loss and more. And also despite her panic when she first saw the coffers on coffers of silver that were draining out of Viznove the silver itself did not go all that far.
Just as paying a peasant in her demesne hardly was a diminishing of the wealth of Valasect?
Viznove would lose very little treasure on this day and night of revelry.
The fasting was about to break.
And she knew from the grumbling stomachs that those who were not experienced in the traditional festival were suffering for it.
But she was the Countess and she would have a proper Summer Harvest Festival.
Even if it was a late one.
Jewel had been surprised to learn that Kaeketeh did not practice the ceremony of the black wheat bread as Rochford, Valasect and many other ‘provincial’ baronies did.
She had been even further surprised by the astounding price that was attached with importing the necessary grains to her bakeries. A good quarter of the expense in food went to that one indulgence.
But it was the tradition and she already saw the signs in the crowd of who followed it.
You could almost cut the vassals and their households in two by those that had anticipatory gleam to their eyes for what would come and those that held the small rounds with confusion waiting for the sign to eat them. There were whispers who grumbled and complained that they had to wait an entire day to partake.
Jewel might have been lenient. Practiced something more local and less familiar to herself.
But she had already missed the Dance of the Summer Harvest Festival once.
Jewel was the Countess of Viznove, She was a married lady and the final law under no other than the High King himself.
She could treat with the gods and be acknowledged like an equal.
Guild masters bowed to her and offered riches so she might deign to spin wool.
Her very words said in anger could curse thousands of men.
So Jewel would have her summer harvest festival exactly as she wished it!
Yes they were her vassals, ordered here by her command. Followed by their retinues and families further commanded by bonds of fealty.
But so were the peasants of her demesne.
And unlike with the people bound to the land by familial contract her vassals had sworn allegiance to her personally. In exchange for her power to protect them and her concessions to enrich their own vaults.
All the endless haggling and dealing.
All their whispering and conspiring that she caught them in and then mercifully forgave.
They could all of them join her for a party and a dance for a single night at the end of summer and celebrate as she wanted too for once.
So they fasted during the day.
The temples were attended and Jewel and her vassals saw to their roles in such rituals as the gods of Kaeketeh required.
The rest was a time for leisure with the only requirement that all who attended for tonight ate nothing and drank only water before the feast.
A little hunger would do some of them good even!
Now at last in the evening a bounty of sufficiently spiced noble fare alongside simple well made breads was filling tables upon tables in the open air of the courtyard.
Here Jewel accepted a break from tradition, for the sake of her daughter and the palette of some of the guests. As a concession to her husband and the insistence of her master of kitchens.
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Spices were in play and far more dishes than Rochford or Valasect had ever held for their summer feasts.
Sweet honey glazed cakes and more traditional simple pale bread.
A half dozen different Beasts slaughtered for the evening. Some served whole such as pig and the water birds. Others cut and glazed or ground into smoked sausages.
For Gem’s constitution, candied pork crisped in honey and pepper was made. Her daughter still could not stomach bread. And was a bit young besides to imbibe the black wheat. But for any man or woman of her court who could consume it the sacramental bread was in their hands.
Tsulogothulan stood to one side as they had during Father’s events. Watching intently.
And then as the sun dipped behind the western mountains and cast a warm shadow over Kaeketeh the great bonfires were lit and she said the words.
The speech was the same as it always was.
“The Hungry Summer has passed. And by your labors we have prospered!”
Of the nobles looking up to her as she spoke, perhaps only half of them were ‘provincial’ enough to even know what Jewel was talking about. But these were the words her father had spoken every year he oversaw the summer harvest festival.
“Together we have hungered through the summer and lived. Together we have remembered those that could not be with us by our own hunger.”
The words that her father had spoken ten days earlier for Rochford’s own celebration. There he was among the crowd before her, his eyes seemed to be shining far more than was proper for a man.
“I swear to you as your countess and lady, that I will always hunger with you. That I will stand for you, I will strike back against all your enemies. Be they hunger or thieves, beasts or lairspawn, wyrm or despoilers.”
The only change she made to the words was to acknowledge her own title. But as the words passed her lips Jewel felt her flames rise higher and stronger within her coils.
Alexander stood proudly beside the pony sized Blizzardwrath. The Gryphon Eyrie finally had deemed his bond trained enough to travel without risking the lives of strangers. Her brother beamed up at her.
“I will guard you, I will be here, until my last breath! Let us now revel, for the hungry summer is over and we still stand!”
She belted out the last part of the proclamation as her father always had, strong and full. Leaning into her deeper voice.
Feminine yet commanding.
“Now Eat and Be Merry!”
And she took up the relatively tiny round of black wheat bread. She bit twice for effect then swallowed hard and audibly. At the signal the musicians took up the melody of the carolla dance and nearly all her guests ate the black wheat rounds.
And finally after over a year without it Jewel was able to dance. The nobles and their families were slow to immediately take to a proper carola. Many moved immediately to take up food at the feasting tables.
That was fine.
There would be a whole night for them to do their part.
But the staff of Jewel’s keep, her footmen and most welcome of all her family all were quick to join her. Father, Mother, Alexander and even little Gwenn were with her in the dance.
Tsulogothulan moved with the music in a sinuous sway that as much mirrored the rhythm as it did the currents of the river itself around them. The way the faux fire moved in the air with the river was slow and sluggish to change at first. Sticky where Rochford and valasect had smoothly moved, familiar with the steps expected of them.
But Kaeketeh’s air was resistant and uncertain to the meaning of the dance and song.
Jewel pressed on, she sang with the musicians. Her voice pulled at the confused air until it found the music within her.
The Bog Weird moved with her and the rest of her guests and family together. A few hilariously bold noble men (and one woman) braved the clammy touch of the Wizard and were swept into a near boneless flurry of motion for their trouble.
As Jewel danced more and more of her vassals and other guests found the feeling of the music as well.
Settling around her and the bonfires.
As the current built up Tsulogothulan drew up glittering arcs of clear water from their sleeves, tracing the motion through the air.
Gem spun in skirts that were only just finished in their final stitch this morning. Hand in hand with Gwenn and another child who Jewel thought was probably Lord Sergej’s son but she was not entirely sure. Her snout was filled with a heady cloud of smoke, spices and sweat amid so many moving bodies.
The music was joined with a rhythmic call of frogs, crickets, the wind in reeds.
The sky shone in silvery starlight.
Jewel was above and over all of these moving and rippling crowds of people. But with just a soft dip of her sweeping neck she could flow and dance among them!’
She swam as part of them and moved with each, looping from one bonfire to another. The sharp sting of the herb bundles burnt in offering in each fire further mixing and blending the scents. She danced, the music flowed and slowly as the evening progressed she felt her vassals find the fullness of the dance.
The sound of the river growing loud and the stars far above shining all the brighter.
Jewel could feel the current of it all running through her every motion and that of her dancing throng of guests. The temptation to let it sweep her away and leave her exhausted come morning itched deep in her spine.
It was ultimately Gem’s young muscles which demanded she retire this time. Her spawn lacking endurance even when filled to near bursting with wyrmflame. The little legs and back could not sustain the carolla’s demands for a full night.
Her little eyes drooped despite every effort to avoid it. Her movements became clumsier and more sluggish. So a few hours into the evening Jewel bowed to her subjects and bid them goodnight as she retired to her chambers with Paul and Gem.
Her parents and sister had fled to their guest quarters far earlier.
Only Alexander was still dancing, Blizzardwrath chirping and bounding around with him. Both bursting with youthful energy. The Gryphon already far larger than her brother, taller than him half again when reared back on hind limbs.
Alexander caught her glance as she said her goodbyes and she dipped her head with a smile.
His own grin was bright as can be, his arm raised high to wave.
It was just as well they retired early.
Poor paul was mumbling something about the stars and constantly running his fingers over and over on her scales. It seemed that the black wheat had hit her husband very hard. But that was fine.
She gently helped guide him to their chambers to sleep off the effects of the sacrament.
It was a good celebration.
It was not a whole night dancing like she had in her youth.
But Jewel was a married woman, soon to be eighteen winters old and she had to see to her family.
Even if both her hearts yearned to keep going until she collapsed in a heap.
Maybe next year when Gem was stronger.