Chapter Six: The Muster of Caltlikrath

The felt caps come in various styles, but certainly, there is some Robin Hoodish stuff.

As sunset draws near, a procession sets forth from the bailey, following a dirt path down to the center of the town. Many of the festivalgoers stop what they're doing to line up alongside the path and watch.

There are about two dozen people making their way down, all dressed in white. The central figure seems to be an older man riding a donkey, with an elaborate paper crown resembling donkey ears upon his head. "A good year! A good lord!" the people shout as he passes them. He waves to them, a somber smile upon his face, as the procession heads toward the wooden man on the mound.

The paper crown does not resemble the symbol of the Six-Pronged Crown.

There are certainly hollows within it, as there were clucking chickens inside.

The procession stops in front of the wooden man, and the ass-eared lord dismounts. Three children step forward from the crowd. One holds a sheaf of grain, another a sickle, and the third an unlit torch.

The shouts from the gathered crowd coagulate into a chant. "A GOOD YEAR! A GOOD LORD! A GOOD YEAR! A GOOD LORD!"

A tumbleweed blows dustily through Mordred's recollection of the worship practices of the Semla cult.

The lord takes the unlit torch from the child before him and turns to face the statue. "MOTHER SEMLA!" he shouts up at the sky in a loud, raw voice. "YOUR BRIDEGROOM COMES TO YOUR BEDCHAMBER! WILL YOU ACCEPT HIM?"

One of the attendants clad in white discreetly approaches the lord and lights his torch. A cheer goes up from the crowd. The lord and the three children start to pace around the wooden figure's mound in a circle while the crowd joins its voices together to sing a droning song in a language none of you can quite place, swaying back and forth on their feet as they do so.

And in the end, not even the chickens were sacrificed. The children climbed up onto the wooden statue (a tense moment, for Mordred) and released them before the lord set the Bridegroom alight.

After the burning, the lord returned swiftly to his keep, on foot, leaving the donkey behind to wander among the revelers. The drinking and dancing went on well into the night.

At dawn, the party awakes, having slumbered with a number of other hung over festivalgoers under one of the empty vendor tents.

Felor sits up and sees a lone figure in white standing on the burned heap where the Bridegroom of Semla stood the night before. The person stands there for a long moment, then turns and looks directly at Felor, seeming to stare directly at him even from the considerable distance. Then the figure turns abruptly away and descends from the mound, taking to the path that leads back up to the whitewashed bailey and the lord's keep.

Are you all ready to continue on the road to Hazard?