M

eet Alice, her husband & kids

Serfs to Castle Dunworth

The day was brisk. Autumn was coming. Outside, in front of their small house, Alice hugged her husband, Gregory. At last, the harvest season was over, and it was time for a celebration. Michaelmas Day, September 29th, was a joyous time. It marked the end of the harvest season.

Little Mary threw her arms around her mother’s legs. “Why are you so happy, Mama?” she asked.

Alice knelt down and patted her daughter’s golden curls. “Today is the Feast Day of St. Michael, the archangel. He was the one who banished Lucifer from Heaven.”

“So Lucifer was bad? What did he do?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention during Mass? Lucifer and his band of angels rose up against God.”

This satisfied the girl’s curiosity, and she wandered over to some of her playmates.

“Tomorrow I’ll have to stock the barns full of food.”

Alice sighed. “Winter will be here before we know it. But leave that which must be done on the morrow for the morrow. Come now, it’s almost time for the feast.”

Many of the villagers gathered together in the middle of their small town for the harvest feast. Alice helped herself to a large piece of the stubble goose. “Mary, eat your food.”

Mary crossed her arms. “I want to go pick some more berries with my friends.”

Alice tousled her hair. “But most of the bushes have been picked clean already.”

Mary’s lower lip jutted out. “Peter found a blackberry bush.”

Gregory shook his head. “No blackberries. You know that.”

“Why not?”

“Remember when your mother told you earlier about St. Michael and Lucifer? When Lucifer was banished, he fell into a blackberry bush. In his anger, he cursed them. And that’s why blackberries are not eaten after Michaelmas Day.”

Mary pointed to the St. Michael’s Bannock cake. “Can I have cake then?”

Alice laughed. “After you finish your goose.”

Mary eagerly began to eat her meat.

After the feast, there were some matters for the adults to tend to, and the children ran off, laughing, dancing, and playing. Gregory paid the governing landlord their rent. As serfs, their homes and land were not their own, but rather the landlord’s. Some of the other serfs offered animals, most commonly geese, in the hopes to delay paying their rent until they could afford it. Luckily for them, their landlord was a good and just man, and he accepted their offerings.

Next, there was an election. The office of reeve needed to be filled. The reeve was an unpopular office. A peasant that ruled the other peasants, the reeve watched over their work and assured that production matched expectation. If rent or donations were low or failing, the reeve had to make up the difference.

 

 

“I nominate Gregory,” a short, old woman with no teeth called out.

Alice grabbed his arm in fear. “Do not accept the nomination, dear,” she whispered. “Think of Mary. “ She glanced over at her daughter.

Mary laughed with another girl. They twirled around, loudly singing, “If ducks do slide at Michaelmas, at Christmas they will swim; if ducks do swim at Michaelmas, at Christmas they will slide.”

But several others also suggested Gregory. Alice closed her eyes and sent up a prayer. “Dear Lord, please, if this be your will, would you not reconsider?”

“What about Ronald?” an older man suggested.

Alice shot old Samworth a smile. Ronald was generally disliked in the community. He typically slacked his duties, allowing his land to be miscultivated. If Ronald were reeve, he would have no choice but to clean up his wayward ways or else risk the wraith of the king of Dunsworth.

The nominations out of the way, the vote was settled upon, and Ronald was installed into office. Alice thanked the Lord, and she and her husband left the gathering. They collected Mary, who by now was yawning and rubbing her eyes.

“Come along, Mary,” Alice said. “You don’t want to be cranky on the morrow for the mop fair, do you?”

The mop fair was always held the day after Michaelmas Day, when farm laborers and servants presented themselves in the hopes of being hired for work the next farming year. Every year, Gregory went, and every year, he was hired. Their livelihood depended on it.

Alice tucked Mary into bed and retired to her bedroom for the night. She rubbed her husband’s back. “I love you, you know.”

“And I you.”

“Thank you for all you do for this family.”

Gregory kissed her. “As if you do nothing.  You raise Mary, tend to the house, and helped me with the land. It’s a wonder what we would have done if I had been named reeve. There’s too much work for the two of us now.”

“And yet we managed.” She snuggled beside him. “With God’s help, we manage.”

 

Nicole Zoltack is currently working on a paranormal with romantic elements concerning a female assassin trying to find her father’s killer. She is the author of a medieval fantasy romance series The Kingdom of Arnhem: Woman of Honor and Knight of Glory. She has published several short stories in anthologies. To learn more about her and her works, visit her website at www.nicolezoltack.com.

 

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