Funeral Procession I

It was a mound, no, a mountain of dirt. But it was not just dirt; there was gold and silver, iron and leather. The greatest possessions of Tolon were laid out around the mound, where his body lay cold and dead beneath the earth. There was everything a man would need in the afterlife: wineskins, coins, trophies, swords, skins, and food. Enough to prove to every god and spirit that he was worthy to pass under the gilded gates of Arka and enter the golden plain to dine and fight and feast and fuck as told by their shamans.

With the beating of drums and the chanting of three and thirty virgins, a large Stallion of the purest white led by a single old and infirm crone. three more mares of black and silver followed, young and bold; the quadruplet pranced toward the grave. 

Then came the women, three in total, all wearing the richest and most elegant gown available. All spoils of war. Maa was at the head of the group, her head held high and betraying none of the tears and melancholy she had yesterday. The other two were no less beautiful and graceful than the leaders; they were all the wives of the late Khan. Each of them had volunteered for this most sacred task. 

Tartar ascended the top of the mound with a great deal of effort, his failing eyes and decaying bones made him stagger and lose his footing before catching himself and continuing. The wind picked up as he reached the top, some force battling the shaman to force him back down. He did not budge, he stood tall and the crowd grew silent. 

"Kin and kith, peoples of our tribe new and old. Tolon has passed from this earth and joined our ancestors as we all must do someday."

The Great stallion stood beside Tartar, silent and cold, as if it knew what was to come. 

"Tolon has brought with him a great many offerings, but he cannot cross the gates without a mount. To Tolon and the gods, we offer this sacrifice."

Tartar produced an ornate curved dagger etched with runes and symbols, with a hand that showed his experience in such matters, he slid the pointed curve across the great animal's throat. It did not resist, soon blood poured down in a stream enriching the dirt with its presence. 

"A great man such as Tolon must also have companions to remind him of his time on the earth. To ask that he watch over us and ward off the evils and perils of this world."

Maa, the first and foremost of his wives, stepped forward with the reins of the richest mare and turned to face the crowd. A servant handed her a long gold-hilted dagger, a gift that had been given to her on her wedding day. Soon, the mare followed the stallion then wife followed husband. Many wept at the sight of the wife with the dagger embedded in her heart, she was loved by many.

 The next two wives and their steeds passed with much the same fanfare. Their lifeblood adding to the richness of the mound, soon they would be with the khan in the highest level of the heavens bringing him joy once more. 

"Do not be sorrowful this night, for we honor a great man. Instead, celebrate and rejoice, for Tolon is with the gods, with his family and friends that have waited for his coming. The end comes for all of us eventually, all we can do is ensure we leave the world having done something of worth."

Only when Tartar reached the base of the mount and spoke a small prayer to end the procession did they depart. In a few hour's time, the tens of thousands of people from all tribes present would host a great feast. Food and drink would flow, and games would be played. Chagadai himself had pledged a large amount of his personal herds to be butchered and prepared. 

A large and calloused hand grasped him on the shoulder, making him jump in fright. "Drobei, we need to get back to work before the festivities start. There is much to do and little time." His father was right; he had to butcher and prepare many goats and cattle. His mother was even trying to trade for more ale from the Khorigdluud tribe. "Still no sign of Bakar? I was hoping to pay him to help with the meats."

"No, I haven't seen him since the trial. I was helping Mother pour drinks last night, and I saw him and Maral at a table in the eatery." He had traded much to get the necklace Maral had used as payment for the ale. He hoped that he could return it to earn her favor or something similar. "Arik offered to help I can go get him."

"Make it fast."

His family wasn't technically Noyan, but they had the wealth to match any of the families besides the Khan himself. His great-grandfather had started the mess tent, and his father had inherited it, the idea had proven a good one. Since then, they have expanded and grown rich from the idea; there were no other establishments like theirs. Now, with their new tribe easily being four times the size of the old, they were bound to get much richer. 

Arik's yurt was nearly as large as that of Tolon's family or Drobei's own. Arik's family was Noyan; they came from a Long line of warriors, and it was important to treat them with due respect. Drobei's family was powerful enough that they respected him more than others. 

"Noyan Telahabay," he bowed his head in respect. Arik offered to help butcher meat for tonight." Arik's father was a scary man, cruel or indifferent to anyone besides his wife or Arik. Only Badai could boast of a higher victory count. 

"Arik!" his Deep voice bellowed into the tent. It took Arik only a few seconds to manifest himself 

"Oh! Sorry, I forgot I was supposed to help you." He chuckled and bid his father goodbye. "Let's get this done real quick, okay? My mother told me a raider in the Malik tribe was selling rare blades and weapons tonight."

Before long, they were knee-deep in blood and entrails, cutting strips of meat from hung goats and lambs. There was so much to prepare that no matter how hard and diligently they worked, the amount of meat to be cut never seemed too thin. 

"Have you seen Maral? Or Bakar?" He asked, wiping the sweat of his brow off with a bloody rag.

"Nah, not since we were up in the mountain. Bakar is probably with Ghoa or Tartar, and I would assume that Maral is mourning Tolon, they were close." Arik didn't stop cutting meat, despite what people said(And they said a lot) about him, he never tired and always worked diligently.

"No, they both said they hadn't seen Bakar since last night." It would make sense for Maral to be in mourning, though. 

The thought of lovely Maral crying sent a shiver down his spine. "Maybe when I Give her this necklace she will feel better." He thought. 

"Also, Ghoa wants that necklace by the end of the night. She said you are already late a day, so if she doesn't get it soon she will curse you with a sickness." He continued "If I were you I would give it to her after we are done here."

Arik threw back his head with a groan. "Ugh, I thought Bakar would be wrong for once. Why did I place that bet Drobei?" Arik removed a plain-looking necklace lined with small bones and charms. "I carved and hunted for each of these bones." In a sudden change of emotion, he chuckled "That's what I get for not believing him. Still, doesn't it annoy you that he always seems to know these things?"

"I think everything Bakar says is just a guess based on an observation. I think we could learn much from how he does things." 

Drobei loved Bakar as a brother, but he could not deny that Bakar terrified him. He felt the same feeling much of their tribe felt, something wasn't entirely human about him. He just felt off, like some alarm was blaring in the back of his head to leave. He told himself Bakar was just cold and logical but as they grew it was harder to ignore.

"Drobei, you talk too much, you could just have said 'no'." Arik's reply dragged Drobei back to the present.

"Ha, you're one to speak."