BoiiCheyh II

Central European neolithic settlers eventually give way to Celtic villagers, who are later absorbed into a migrating Slav population.

Here a great medieval city will grow.

NEW READERS BE SURE TO CHECK OUT PART ONE HERE!

(entries start from the bottom. individually numbered, new entries are added to the top)

5. LECH DEPARTS

The community is in division, peace is temporarily disrupted. One of Chehy's sons has announced his desire to continue travelling. He does not feel in his heart that this is the final settlement for him. He wants to take a portion of the combined community with him. 

Everyone is engaged in a great debate, discussing various aspect of the desision. Chehy himself is against it and is actively trying to disuade one and all from going along.

There are, however, a significant number of indivuduals who are quite serious about moving on.

These tend to gravitate together, members of each community, working themselves up to embarking on another long voyage.

Strib offers no opinion, waiting only to see Anya's decision. He will go along with her, whatever she may decide to be. Eventually it becomes clear that she is in the group bent on staying, however she has great empathy for those who want to  move on. She does not chastise or judge them as some others do.

Several of Strib's friends have decided to  go, which he finds difficult and temporarily distracting. After one particularly emotional discussion he looks up, sent, to see Anya regarding him intently. This time she does not look away or pretend to be otherwise occupied. Even from across the village centre he can see the understanding in her eyes.

It makes him feel better to know she will be here with him, after he loses some of his friends. People he has known his entire life.

The decision long made, preparations are begun for the splinter group to move off. The warm months are passing but bitter cold is still some time off. They must leave now or miss an entire year. Chehy is distressed to be losing one of his three sons, and must be consoled repeatedly by various community members.

The horses and mules are packed up, those leaving form an unseasy gathering at the village edge. Chehy is so distraught at watching his son go that no one wants to make the final move. The feeling of discomfort grows, people begin to exchange worried glances. From his side Chehy's two other sons step forward to make well-wishes to the departing group.

"May you soon find your own valley to settle," says one in a booming vocie. "May your travels be brief and safe."

"We hope you come to a place as productive, as livable as this one we have here," says the other son. 

The three brother lock in an embrace.

"I am going to found a community as strong and vital as this one here," says the departing son. "I will take the teaching of our father. .  .

All three look at Chehy, a picture of misery, unable to hold back tears.

" . . . the teaching of our father to establish a new community on unknown soil."

With these words the crowd relaxes. Those departing on this adventure stand up a little straighter.

The son now addresses the entire gathering, turning slowly in a circle as he speaks clearly and loudly. His two brothers make solid pillars by his side.

"In this special place we have joined our two communiteis, so disparate, so different. In coming together we have found even greater similarities between our people."

Several murmers of agreement rise up.

"We have come together in what seems like a random meeting to make something strong, something unique."

The crowd nods, some answer 'Yea!'

The son steps forward to Chehy, their faces close. His brother follow, the four men cluster together. 

"I am now going to take this new strength, that you created, and spread it wide." The son puts his hands on Chehy's shoulders, Chehy can not hold back a smile.

"I am going to settle a village in the distance, we are going to build up another community far from here but we will always be together. We will always be joined. Should you call, we will answer and likewise you will come if we should need you."

Chehy nods, the men embrace.

The son slowly leads his group out of the villag into the forest, westward and north. The remaining villagers stay gathered long after any sight or sound of the adventurers has passed.

The village seems small and empty without them. Everyone goes back to work somewhat awkardly and with  vague feeling of gloom.

That village Chehy created is in Bohemia, where the brilliant city of Prague will eventually stand. The departing son, Lech, travels north and west until arriving at another fertile valley, settling his people in a village site of his own, which will eventually become Poland.

 

4. STRIB APPROACHES 

ANYA

 

 

Work moves forward in the village. Everyone is pleased with the progress, feeling confident everything will be built before the cold, wet months arrive.

Chehy and his sons oversee the planning and execution.

The village site continues to take shape, eventually growing beyond its initial borders. Centered around the large communal hall, the deep well, and Chehy's manor, the village bustles with work and life. As families are formed, individual huts are built into larger homes. The young women who have not yet taken mates continue to sleep together under the large shelter initially built. The unattached young men continue to sleep scattered about the village grounds, under the stars.

The joining of the Celtic and Slav communities put an unexpected stop to the previous random coupling of available young people. Somehow the presence of large numbers of unknown people imposed a modestly upon the joined communities that is new to all. Instead of cursory invitations and purely physical bonding there is slow-moving introductions and long, involved courtships. The language barrier is still a factor, keeping relationships between the two groups formal and polite.

Anya is painfully aware of Strib's attention whenever the community gathers, mostly at meal times. She and a few of the other youong women have embarked on a project to establish long term food storage. They are experimenting with several methods of drying and preservation now, before the cold winter months arrrive. Often they emerge with samples for tasting, to varying levels of success. Others in the community participate in these taste-tests willingly despite, at times, the unfortunate results. 

Strib sits with his friends after  long day clearing the meadow. Chehy and his sons have decided that some of the surrounding lands need to be tamed, in order to be more productive and in order to make an attack by neighbours or travelling warriors more difficult. Some of the men notice the group of women emerge from their food storage hut with platters, and murmer warnings to each other.

"Careful Jonas or your tongue will turn purple again", they say in reference to one particularly disasterous beet-poaching effort.

The men chuckle. Its all good-natured; this food preservation project is important for them all. He watches as the women move through those gathered in the village centre. He has not yet spoken to his love. She seems aware of his atention, at times glancing over to acknowledge his gaze, at other times quite deliberately avoiding looking his way at all. He waits, hoping for an oppotunity to speak directly with her. With each passing day his fascination of her grows, so that he is practically frozen into inaction.

Strib can feel his heart rate quicken as Anya approaches his group, platter extended.

"Won't you try some fish we have salted and dried?" she asks. Her voice is clear, firm and quite bit lower than he would have expected from one her size. He watches as one after another his friends taste pieces, sometimes offering compliments, sometimes trading jokes with her. 

"This one won't keep me up at night, will it?" asks one stout fellow jovially, holding the fish in front of his mouth.

She laughs . . . what a delightful sound!

"We will never again use those reeds to preserve proteins," she says. "Too hard on the digestion."

Her eyes twinkle as she watches the men eat, offering various levels of approval.

Strib expects her to drift away but just then she turns directly to him, platter outstretched, "Won't you try some fish?"

The surroundings evaporate, there is no village, no friends, no work, no meadow to clear. There is only she and him, he seated with hand reaching out for a piece of fish, she standing, holding the plate between them. Their eyes are locked together, time ceases to exist.

He chews on the fish, forcing his mind to become aware of his mouth, his tongue, the flavours. 

"The taste is good, if a little salty.The texture is too tough," he remarks quietly.

Some of the other men nod in agreement.

She regards him thoughtfully then takes another small taste.

He watches her chewing, contemplating, as an idea occurs to her. It is written all over her face.

"Perhaps we should reconstitute the fish in a nice broth before we serve it," she says slowly.

His friends remark approvingly that this is a good idea. She chats with them briefly, in good humour, before moving off. He has said nothing more and now she is gone, back to work.

He laments the lost opportunity, why had he not spoken up more when he had the chance, as the others did? He still is not sure if she even notices him.

But she has noticed him. She became monumentally aware of him that day he watched her weaving. He thinks she breezed by him casually but in reality she almost fell over when passing him, so strong and imposing is his presence.

Anya is only acting unaware because she knows not what else to do. While she is of age and some of her friends are already with child, having chosen a man, her experience with such matters is limited. She prefers to tend to the group as a whole, to ensure the basic needs of all are met, rather than focussing on one child or family unit of her own.

Beside, she has never met a man who makes her feel strongly enough that she would consider giving up her independence. Until now. Until now, yet she knows not what to do.

As the days pass she becomes accustomed to his constant attention, welcoming it rather than finding it invasive. Eventually she finds herself missing it when he is gone for extended periods. That is why she chose his group to present these new fish preservation efforts.

He may be disappointed at his lack of action, but she is pleased at his restraint. She half-expected him to lunge at her, so hungry are his eyes sometimes when regarding her.

A few days later he sits with his frriends after a good meal, the evening passing on, yet he feels anxious. He has not caught one sight of her despite scanning the crowd constantly. He is irritated and distracted so much that his friends notice. Eventually they move off, leaving him alone to sit by the fire.

"Did you enjoy the roast today?" comes a voice behind him. Strib whirls around, "We found some pungent roots this morning, we hope it added a good flavour."

Anya is looking him in the eye but seems to be withholding, as if there is more to her than she is willing to let him see just yet.

"Is that what that flavour was?", he says shifting in his seat to make room for her, should she choose to sit.

"I thought I detected some earthy tones but it was quite subtle."

"Oh yes, that was it! Did you find the new flavour pleasing?" She moves closer but does not sit.

He is dying to catch her scent, to touch her hair.

"I thought it was, yes. I should like to taste it used in other ways."

She nods. "I'm sure you will have that chance once we find more plantings of the root."

Her eyes fix on him steadily. They both know they are not really talking about food. 

He looks at her openly, allowing all his thoughts and feelings to play on his face, to show in his eyes. She gazes back, noticing, but more guardedly. There is a brief moment though, where he catches a twinkle in her eye, a quick rise to the corner of her mouth, he is sure these are reserved just for him.

She leans in slightly, "I'll bring our next effort to you and your friends once we have something new prepared."

He too leans forward, desperate for her smell, her touch. But she is gone.

His heart is lifted. He remains in his spot until long after the sky grows dark, the fire is reduced to embers. He finally retires with a warmth growing in his chest that he has not felt before.

3. STRIB & ANYA

 

 

Her mad long curly hair blows freely in the wind as she works the fibres, preparing the raw lax to be woven. The complete focus on her face, her hands moving so quickly they are almost a blur, and he light brown hair fluttering around her head creates an aura around her. She is a vision.

He had been working hard all morning helping build ramparts outside the western edge of the village. A large group of men are felling timbers to erect the defenses. He stops in the village centre to quench his thirst, as he drinks his eyes roam around the open space. Everyone is occupied; building, making, cooking, or caring for children.

His dark brown hair, chopped short, sticks to his head from the sheer effort of the morning. His sharp brown eyes miss nothing as he takes in the scene before him. Refilling his cup he turns around to continue his observation.

She fills his vision, everything else is obscured as if they are the only two beings on the planet. Small and wiry of body, her blue eyes sparkle as she transforms the pile of reeds into mulch. His heart stops, he gasps, almost losing his grip on the cup. He can but stare like one who has taken leave of his senses. Finished, she stands. Shaking out her hair and straightening her garments she gathers her completed work in her arms. 

He stands frozen in his spot unable to take his eyes off her.

On her way to deliver her work she passes him, tilting her head slightly upon catching his gaze. Her clear blue eyes seem to cut deep through his soul, jump-starting his heart to a breakneck rate.

He pivots as she passes, breezing by him gracefully. There is a strength and power contained in that small body.

He is immediately smitten, it takes a moment once she leaves his vision for his body functions to return to normal, for his senses to again register with his brain. He spends the rest of the day in a happy daze, working hard but thinking only of her. 

She continues her work in the village grounds seeming to have barely taken notice of his presence.

A proper village setting is beginning to take shape where there was only bare dirt and poor covered pits. Huts, shacks, storage and various out-buildings are either framed out or completed. A communal hall in the village centre is staked out but not yet begun. 

The two communities have reached a rapport and are workiing hard together to get most of the serious work done before the cold months arrive. By now the children have developed an easy communication which the adults are well on their way to learning.

The young people maintain their uneasy distrust without showing outright hostility. The elderly of each group gather in a loose arrangement but have not overcome the communication barrier. Together they watch the community work, keeping track of the good progress. Everyone else has shed any concerns they may have had about the other group, all work together as if it has always been this way.

Time comes for the evening meal. There is a stew thick with vegetables swimming in a rich broth. There are piles of plump potatoes steaming, deeply roasted in the fire. Slabs of meat, bones removed, fill the air with a tantilizing aroma as the scent of zesty herbs release. Fish, wrapped in pungent leaves and grilled quickly in the flames rounds out the meal. 

The community moves in a orderly fashion to fill their plates; families first with children to feed, then the men take hearty piles of meat and fish and vegetables. The women are next, complimenting each other on the succulent smells and flavours. The young people take their turn, picking over the unfamiliar and choosing the foods more usual to their region. Last, as always, are the elderly.

He is moved along with the men, somehow his plate gets filled high with the tasty offerings. He barely notices, looking around always for her. He is propelled along to a seat among the men, all of whom eat hungrily and with great enthusiasm. He picks at his plate, his eyes scanning the village grounds constantly. Soon it will be dark, if he does not get another look at her before nightall he fears he may not make it to dawn.

Suddenly there is a break in the crowd, he sees her. She seems to be flowing, her beauty so ravashing that again his heart stops. She is checking to make sure the children have enough, bringing an ocassional piece of fish, or scoop of stew, to one or another not yet satisfied. Once she is sure all are replete she takes her own portion. 

He sits frozen with his spoon levitating above his plate, staring. A few of his friends begin to chuckle knowingly.

With her own plate now filled she drifts to an empty seat, tossing brief greetings to friends on her way. She is facing in his direction, her face basked in the flow of the fire, eating slowly. She seems to be contemplating something, barely aware of those directly around her, her eyelids half closed. Still, those blue eyes blaze with a strength and mystery he has never seen in another.

Unable to eat he puts down his spoon, continuing to stare. He does not grasp what is happening, never before has he experienced this level of feeling.

He can't take his eyes off her as she eats slowly, methodically making her way through her plate. In time those around him move off, sated. Someone takes his cold plate away, clapping him on the back. He barely notices.

Twilight falls and the children are put to bed. The village quietly bustles around them. She continues to gaze into the fire as if transfixed while thoughts and ideas play across her face. He watches with fascination.

All at once she shakes herself out of her reverie, looking down to see her plate consumed. She sighs with satisfaction. Her being has returned from far-away imaginings to the present.

She startles slightly, suddenly aware of his focus. Her gaze turns without hesitation directly to him, catching his eye. They sit motionless for a long moment, their attention only on each other, their eyes locked. Unable to help himself, a smile plays on his lips. She flushes, her face turning a delighful shade of pink, and looks down.

He continues staring. Painfully aware of his look she becomes flustered, so gathers up her plate and rushes awkwardly to the washing up area. She spends the rest of the evening ensconced deep in the sea of women cleaning up, careful to avoid his gaze.

He moves into the circle of the fire with the men, accepting a pipe to smoke when it is passed. Soon it is time to retire. 

Families take the shelters, in various stages of construction. The women sleep together under the shelter built the first day, while the men take up position scattered about the village under the stars. 

He sleeps little. When he does he has wild dreams of an angel, a spiritual vision. 

 

2. TWO GROUPS MERGE

 

 

There is an uncomfortable stand-off between these young people, and not much mixing among them. The adults ignore this reluctance, writing it off as teenage angst.

 

As the young people square off across the village grounds, eyeing each other warily, the children mix together happily and the adults immerse themselves in learning each others' customs. The women exchange knowledge of cooking different meats and legumes, and of stitching workable clothing from various fabrics. The men go out in smaller groups so the new arrivals can acclimate to this strange landscape, learn the lay of the land. There are many discussions of strategy, both in going out on the hunt and for self-defense from invaders.

 

The hard lessons of the Roman forces centuries ago are not lost on these people.

 

Some of the differences in manner, in action, between the two peoples are amusing, while others are problematic. The new arrivals have brought with them some bad habits that come with living in a crowded city. Most importantly that involving personal hygiene. The current residents gently introduce more healthy cleaning habits, both of the body and the clothing. Some of the latter is in such a disgusting state that it must be burned. The current residents are horrified to discover vermin dwelling in the hair of the new arrivals. Its to the river with everyone, to undergo a proper washing procedure, paying special attention to the hair. The new arrivals are puzzled at the gravity with which the current residents view this health issue. 

 

A comparison of the skin, hair and teeth of the members of the two groups with similar ages shows that the current residents are indeed possessed of significantly better attributes. So the new arrivals learn to undergo a proper full-body cleansing every day, after replacing the worst of the clothing, and soon discover themselves to be much more comfortable, much less bothered by various ticks and nats and skin irritations.

 

What the two groups can teach each other is, in fact, enormous. Each seems to fill precisely the gaps where the other's knowledge leaves off.

 

One significant difference between the two groups is social structure, or hierarchy. It soon becomes obvious that Cechy, his sons and their wives and children, enjoy a better standard of living than the rest of the new arrivals. Always is a special place offered to them first, they have the choice of the best food, drink and supplies, and almost all decisions are deferred until one of this ruling party has weighed in. 

 

For the current residents there is no such social distinction, in fact they find it somewhat obscene. In their world all are valued as equal and all are treated the same. Of course some have better abilities at a certain skill, but that does not bestow upon them a greater value.

 

"If not for Cechy we would never have found this place," said one busty young women in answer to an inqiury. The community was taking their mid-day meal, gathered together in small groups as the warming sun shone down.

 

"I would not have ever left that hard life of hunger and souless work," said a young man with his mouth full.

 

"We needed a leader, and Cechy has been excellent in that regard. We walked a huge distance to get here but lost none in the journey," explained the busty woman. "Now he is training his sons to lead, and we will train our children to follow."

 

The current residents exchanged worried glances; if one needed to be trained then does that not mean that to follow is against our nature?

 

By now a strong village has sprung up. The people live huddled together in small huts, little more than sleeping quarters. Eating is carried out communally. The large cover constructed on the first day of the new arrivals remains but is little more than a storage facility and a place for the children to play when it is raining. Several larger building occupy the centre of the village, all communal except one which is reserved for Cechy and his extended family. 

 

As much care and effort has been put into the comfort of this one blood line as was put into the buildings shared by all. Individual huts are, by comparison, rough and basic.

 

The resident Celts take great exception to this division between Cechy and his family and everyone else, but their objections are soundly ignored. 

"It must be done," explain the migrating Slavs. "To ensure his continued good leadership."

"But the hardship of your travels are over," reply the Celts. "Surely now we can proceed as equals."

 

No human has the right to tell another what to do or how to live, the Celts firmly believe. Not adults, at least. If one is a fully functioning human being it is for them to decide for themselves what is best. Should they be in error it is for each to learn from their mistakes. No other person has a greater say in anyone's life than that individual.

The Slavs will not be swayed. they have just come from a world fraught with power structure. It is the only way to get things done. There must be a head, there can only be one decision-maker, or group of decision-makers. If everyone has an equal voice there will forever be discussions, and sometimes arguments, with very little actual work being done.

 

The Celts fail to see why this must be so but are forced to acknowledge the sheer problem of numbers. Their community, the population of their village, has always been relatively small.  Even prior to the decimation of the Roman legions. Solving logistical problems was always done through discussion, with all who felt they had something to add being given equal voice. They could see however, that once their numbers get too great this system will no longer work.

 

The democratic sentiment of the Celts are never suppressed however, and imbue the future power structures of this village for centuries to come.

Soon they are indistinguishable, in look and bearing, in habit and clothing the two groups become alike. Their respective languages merge into a single dialect, as the generations pass the accents and inflections become one. The inital awkwardness of the teenagers vanishes quickly, as the adults knew it would, morphing into a deep attraction for the foreign and unfamiliar. The aged are pleased to see the teenagers pairing off with members of the other group almost exclusively. This mixing of the gene pool will only serve to strengthen future generations, both physically and mentally. Their ancestors' monitoring of the reproductive efforts is resurrected and put back into action.

 

 

1. PART TWO

BOHEMIA

In this strange manner, by the joining of completely different peoples, this precious valley once again becomes home to a thriving community. The new arrivals understood when they agreed to make this journey that they would have to start from the beginning wherever they settled, that they would have to build up a village from the bare ground. At first communication with the residents is difficult, so the men just go about chopping down strong trees and working together to construct the first foundations of what will be their shelters. 

For their part the residents are mildly horrified at the sight of trees, believed to contain a spirit -- a life force -- of their own, being destroyed. They watch in amazement as the new arrivals quickly construct a solid cover under which everyone is able to remain dry, out of the elements. Soon the day ends. The residents retire to their covered pits while the new arrivals sleep in a huddled mass under their new roof.

The next morning brings a remarkable change in the dynamic between the two groups. At the end of the previous evening there was tension and unease. The new residents are slowly going about their morning, a small fire is burning, pots of strong coffee are beginning to perculate. 

This strange and delicious aroma, this delightful flavour saturates the senses of the village residents as they emerge from their covered pits. They gather together in a tight group at first, deep in conversation. As each resident takes their turn to speak, others can not resist turning towards the wonderful smell coming from the fire of the new arrivals.

The talk is of dreams. This community, despite being torn asunder by the invading Roman troops, has kept their most important tradition -- the sharing of dreams when first arising each day. Insights are gleaned, lessons are taken, from the content of dreams. It is not often, however, that several members' dream experience is so similar. This occurance is so infrequent, in fact, that none of these current residents can remember it happening to them before. As each individual recounts what they had dreamt that night, the similarities become astounding.The message is clear, a message delivered not just to one or two, but to all. The same message, delivered to each person, as a sort of collective experience. 

The new arrivals take note of this unfamiliar morning practice.

"Perhaps they are praying?" says the wife of one of Cechy's sons. The others nod, and agree to not interrupt.

For their part the residents are also astonished, but at the clarity of the nighttime instructions. "Welcome the new arrivals, take them into your heart as if they were your own family. Teach them, and learn from them. Combine your knowledge and skills to create a new, stronger, better community which will thrive far into the future. That is why your people were brought here so long ago, and why these people have been brought here now."

The group breaks from its little huddle. The residents know what they must do but are not sure how to go about it. One or two of the younger residents wander over to the fire, where the coffee has brewed and is now being poured out into the ready cups of the new arrivals. With a pleasing tilt of her head the wife of one of Cechy's sons extends her arm toward the curious resident. In her hand is a steaming cup of hot coffee, sweetened, and lightened with cream. 

The young resident can not resist, she also tilts her head in a humble manner and tentatively takes the cup in her hand. Raising it to her mouth she takes a deep breath, savouring the aroma, before drinking a small sip. Her eyes wide the young resident smiles broadly then takes several large gulps. Laughing, the new arrivals are pleased at her reaction. More cups of coffee are brought out for the rest of the village residents, who express equal enjoyment at the exotic flavour.

With the residents' clear mission to embrace the new arrivals, and the obvious generosity of spirit demonstrated by Cechy's people, the groups embark on a path toward their combined future.

Its a small village made up of two very different groups of people. At first, due to language issues, communication is difficult. Now one community, the two groups move through their day. The new arrivals quickly make arrangements to divide up the clearing so various structures can be built. The men go about surveying the surrounding land for timber and other assets, while the women work to create makeshift comfort under the cover constructed the previous day. A massive fire pit is dug, so several meals can be cooked at the same time. The donkeys are herded together in a grassy clearing to eat and rest, several older children are tasked with watching over them.

The current residents, not used to this high level of activity and still enjoying the warmth of the coffee that has settled in their bellies, watch with interest. After a while several of the young men go help a group of new arrivals struggling to hoist a large timber. Taking their own cue, a group of young women offer assistance to the women of the new group. Quickly they are made to understand, and the women move off into the forest where the current residents will show the new arrivals where grow the root vegetables, herbs and other necessities of cooking.

The elderly and very young are left to mix together. It doesn't take long for the children to teach each other, and gain understanding of their respective languages. They make it a game. An unusual circumstance develops, where the adults keep a group of children always nearby, in order to help translate. This situation leads to a certain lightheartedness as tasks are completed, the presence of children takes away from the seriousness of whatever the people are trying to accomplish.

Work progresses slowly and with care. The men dig a deep well, not entirely necessary because there are two rivers close by, but it is thought best to have a well dug and prepared for some unexpected eventuality. Other projects are being considered, Cechy and his sons pore over drawings of plans for the village site. Occasionally members of the celtic community wander over to take a look. They make no objection but have ideas of their own.

The young people, those no longer children but not quite adult yet, find this joining of two disparate communities awkward. The new arrivals think this place rustic and rough in the extreme. From where they came the streets are paved with cobblestones, there are buildings as high as the trees here, ladies go about dressed in grand costumes, and there is trade and commerce in exotic goods from faw-away places.

For their part the celts find the new arrivals proud and somewhat shallow. What good are all their former comforts if they know not how to start a fire with their bare hands, if they can't trap some meat or catch some fish, if they don't know how to track the passage of the winter beasts? If they cannot guage the weather, or know when the cold will arrive?