Nature's Tribe by Jacky Gray

Author:Jacky Gray
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-04-07T22:00:00+00:00

2 – Imbolc

Cal flopped his weary body on his cot, thankful for winter’s longer nights. It was, however, a mixed blessing, as it meant they had to cram so much more into the shorter days, barely taking time for a crust of bread and a gulp of ale at the sun’s mid-point. He longed for the leisurely summer days when they never laboured for more than three hours without a break. His father’s extra farm-hands filled each respite, no matter how brief, with fun and laughter.

But most of the itinerant labourers only stayed until the crops had been harvested and processed – around two moons after Lughnasadh. Two men stayed all year round: kinfolk, living in a farm cottage, who did not resonate with much joy. So the massive amount of maintenance work for the village’s largest farm was divided between the four of them for the winter season.

One of the reasons for Farmon’s success lay in his strict policy of allowing every field to lie dormant for at least two years in every five. Which made the ground even more compacted after it had been trampled by animals grazing. Despite the imaginings of non-farmers, the winter moons were not spent idling, but toiling with earth frozen solid or mired in mud.

Moving his position to ease the ache in muscles not used to the intensity of breaking up frozen ground with a plough, Cal thought back to an unhappy visit with southern relatives. His mother came from a long line of townies, brought up in the hustle and bustle of a large city where everyone belonged to families of merchants or manufacturers. His cousins and their friends had no concept of the rigours of farming life.

He remembered being surrounded and outnumbered by a host of sceptical boys trying to impress the only girl among them as they bombarded him with questions about farm life. In the memory in Cal’s head, they all took on the persona of animals, mostly sheep – incapable of original thought, merely regurgitating the opinions of others.

“It sounds peculiar to me, living in the same house with all the animals. I heard the peasants did that centuries ago.” Curly horns marked this ram out as the would-be leader of this flock.

“Eugh.” The girl twitched her pointed nose, bringing out the rodent aspect her face. More mouse than rat. “It sounds dirty. Don’t you get their fleas?” She squeaked as one of the boys tickled her, pretending to be a flea.

Glaring at the filthy dog lying at her feet, Cal thought the creature was far more likely to pass on diseases than the clean animals on the farm. He said nothing.

“It’s no wonder you’re so fat, lazing around all year with nothing to do except drink milk and gorge on the meat.” Definitely a sheep, bleating to impress.

Cal remained silent as another spineless supporter picked up the persecution by self-appointed jury. “Father’s always saying how the farmers moan about their workload, but all they ever have to do is wait around while the sun and rain grow the crops and the animals feed themselves.

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