“And what can you do with soybeans?” Father Mahona said, throwing up his hands. “Eat them? I don’t think so.”
“Make tofu?” Mike said, smiling, then shook his head when both the farmers looked at him in question. “It’s a… not particularly good food that can be made from soybeans. I was joking.”
“Normally we understand your jokes, Kildar,” Father Makanee said, smiling. “That one we were lost.”
“At least I’ve avoided the farmer’s daughter’s jokes,” Mike pointed out.
“The ones with the traveling salesman?” Father Mahona asked, frowning. “I’ve heard them.”
“What all of them?” Mike asked. “Did you hear the one about the traveling former SEAL who got caught in a snowstorm?”
“No,” Father Mahona said, puzzled.
“That’s because we’re living it,” Mike replied. “When we get to the punch line, I’ll tell you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Here come the youngsters,” Father Makanee said a few minutes later, gesturing to where the troops were walking up from the range. They’d turned in their weapons and were obviously discussing the zeroing with enthusiasm. Mike thought they’d probably be less enthusiastic by this time next week.
“Oleg,” Mike said, shaking the hand of the Kulcyanov family militia leader. “It was going well when I left.”
“Oh, it went well, I think, Kildar,” Oleg replied, nodding at him. “I’m not sure about Shoka. He had trouble hitting the mountainside.”
“There are things to be said for simply being a pack mule,” Mike pointed out. “And later we’ll see how he takes to heavier weapons. Some people do better with machine guns than rifles. If he’s one of those, he’ll be perfect.”
“Are you here to watch the competition, Kildar?” Sawn asked, walking over to the axe range. There were four ranges set up but it was still going to be a while before everyone could be run through.
“The Kildar wishes to participate,” Father Mahona said, formally. “He would be one of the woodcutters. If he can throw well enough.”
“He got the axe in the target,” Father Makanee pointed out. “For one who is not a Keldara, to get the axe in on only three tries is a feat.”
“On the short range,” Father Mahona responded. Mike noticed that everyone was backing up and gulped as Sawn took a position that was twice as far as the previous line.
The Makanee militia leader spun the axe with the fingers of his right hand for a moment and then in one continuous motion brought it up to shoulder level and let fly. The axe spun hard and true, making a series of turns that were a blur, and then buried itself in the wood. The head was very near the center of the top log, the one painted in white as a target.
“Crap,” Mike muttered. He never wanted to fight a Keldara with just an axe, that was for sure.
Some of the young men lined up to contest the throw while others simply gathered around and shouted encouragement. Mike noticed that all six of the militia leaders participated. He’d mostly talked with Genadi about who would be a good potential leader of the militia, but the six were, effectively, the designated heirs in their generation for the Families and the Keldara were careful about that. You had to show intelligence and wisdom and physical prowess to be considered for the spot of a Father of the Family. And the six had all three in abundance. Hell, most of the Keldara had all three, the six were simply exceptional.
And they all turned out to be exceptional with the axe throwing. Mike wasn’t sure to what extent they were simply showing off for the Kildar, however. He had to consider that when Oleg ended up breaking the axe handle and burying the head so deep that it took a few minutes to work it out.
It took about an hour to run all the men who were contesting through the course and Mike had to admit that he didn’t have a chance. Even the regular Keldara were very good at the skill while the leaders were fucking masters. That meant the six Families were all represented of course. There were a few misthrows, Shoka in particular had hit the target so hard, and at such a bad angle, that the axe bounced back practically to the onlookers. But Mike was easily going to be in the bottom ten percent.
“Kildar, will you try your hand, now?” Father Mahona said, smugly.
“I’m not nearly as good as any of these fine young men,” Mike said, nonetheless taking the axe from a slightly smirking Sawn. “But I will give it a try.”
He considered the range as he spun the axe in his hand, much as Sawn had. The distance was about twice what he’d thrown before, so if he simply kept the same spin and threw a bit harder, it should at least hit. He spun the axe a bit harder and then brought it up, hurling it as hard as he could at the target.
It had to be luck. He knew it was luck. But luck had been with him more than once and She smiled on him again. The axe ran true to the target, the handle impacting hard enough that it came damned near breaking as Oleg’s had, and the head buried itself in the target. It was slightly to one side, but deeply embedded. And instead of being in the bottom rank of throws, the toss was very near the top.
“Lucky,” Mike said, shrugging, as the Keldara applauded by slapping their thighs.
“A very good throw,” Father Makanee said, glancing at Mahona. “I think that the Kildar has proven his worth.”
“For poplar, perhaps,” Father Mahona replied.
“Poplar would be a good choice,” Father Kulcyanov said, having overheard the exchange. “The tree of spring, the fire that we burn upon the hearth, the tree of quicklife.”
“The rites must be explained,” Father Makanee pointed out. “May I?”
“It is yours to explain,” Father Kulcyanov said, nodding.
“Kildar,” Father Makanee said, formally. “Choose nine young men to accompany you. You should go to the poplar stands along the river. Choose three trees that are crowding the others, trees that are high and straight but unlikely to cause damage if removed. They must be cut by the light of the moon only and you have until dawn to finish the task. Only you must swing the axe. When the trees are cut, you and the other nine return them to the tun along with the top cuttings. In the meantime, the other young men will scour the woods for branches for kindling. The branches of kindling must be gathered and not cut. At dawn, the nine who cut the trees must make the first cuts of the turf for the fire, but they do not have to complete the building of the pit. After cutting out the circle, they can retire and rest until noon, when the rest of the competitions begin. No one is required to participate in any of the competitions, so you can feel free to rest as long as you’d like. In fact, you don’t have to do the cutting, although it would be an honor.”
Mike hadn’t realized he was being set a task that would take all damned night. But at this point, he really didn’t see a way to back out.
“I’ll do the cutting,” he said, mentally kicking himself. “I can tell a chainsaw is out, but can I use a regular axe? One of the ones I had brought in? They cut better.”
“The axes to be used are not these,” Father Kulcyanov said. “They are kept by the Families, forged upon our fires and remade as necessary. We would… prefer you use those.”
“Can do,” Mike said, nodding. “Father Kulcyanov, I have lived among the Keldara for only a short time. I would have you choose the nine men to accompany me.”
The detailing didn’t take long and before dark had settled, Mike and his group, along with several others, had gathered in front of the Kulcyanov house. Father Kulcyanov entered and returned in a few moments with four axes; he was apparently the keeper of the spares. Each of the axes was subtly different; one was fairly light with a single, broad, edge, one was single sided and much larger, the third was about the same size with a pick back and the third was a monster with two heads. He set all four on a table by the door and then picked up the smallest.