The Marches children

The child looked up at me with large, unblinking eyes; a rough dolly of woven cornstalks clutched to her woollen tunic with one grubby hand. Thinking that perhaps I might build a rapport with her, I asked if I could take a closer look at the hideous thing. As I began to reach towards it she started in surprise, sank her teeth into my finger hard enough to draw blood and then ran off shouting that I was trying to steal her soul! Moments later several grim-faced Marchers approached with the girl in tow and confronted me. I assumed that perhaps she would face punishment for attacking a visitor in this way, but in fact when they heard the story they sided with her – one even ruffled her hair! I was advised in no uncertain terms that “Marchers keep to Marches business, best you do the same with your own.” I would have argued the case, but I couldn’t help noticing the subtle air of menace with which they were gripping their agricultural tools…

Marcher children are treated like any other growing thing; they are nurtured so that they may grow straight, strong and true, they are showered with love like the rain and sun and with discipline like the frost and wind.

It is universally recognised in the Marches that children are not yet “finished”, that is, that they have not grown enough in order to bear fruit (have children of their own, fight in the armies, or contribute to the nation in quite the same way as an adult). Until adulthood is reached, a child’s soul has not “fixed” or “settled” in their body, this is why children can be prone to selfishness, whim or fancy and can be unpredictable or fickle. However, that doesn't mean they can't work: they can watch, and they can help on the farm.

It is a common belief that the straw dollies given to children each year contain part of their soul that has been kept in the earth. Looking after the poppet is part of the child’s growing and maturing process – “learn to look after yourself and you’ll better look out for others” many a mother has been heard to say to her child. When the child’s poppet is ploughed back into the field his or her connection to the land is strengthened and that portion of their soul can rest for a short time.

The Rights and Tests of Adulthood, common across The Empire have just as much meaning in the Marches. When a child passes the tests and is deemed to be an adult, there is a celebration. Not unlike a birthday, gifts are given and tradition dictates that parents present their children with a weapon so that the child may fight for the Marches when needed and with a tool so that he or she may work the land in the mean time. These items are often heirlooms and have been passed along generations of families. This tradition is thought to be the origination of the phrase “sword and shear alike”.

There are a few regional variations upon this, but the principles are the same. Some well-wishers give a gift of symbolic jewellery representing the items instead.

Things every Child should know

• Heart and hearth Your Household is very important. You must work hard, learn things, and be the best you can be to keep your Household strong and safe.
• know a body by their March; judge'em by their company Stick with your friends and they will stick by you. Do as your leaders say, speak up if you don’t agree, and never make a promise you can’t keep.
• One boy's a boy, two boys is half a boy and three boys is no boy at all. Work always comes before play. If you see a job that needs doing, do it yourself to make sure it gets done.
• Sow, tend and reap; fight, toil and weep Your Household’s farms and lands are very important and must be looked after properly. Listen to the Landkeepers, they know more about the land than anybody else, and can tell you all kinds of interesting things about it.
• The land sees all. Never tell lies and always speak up if something is wrong.
• Strong seeds, strong crops, strong land Doing something well is more important than doing it quickly. Always do the best job you can.

At sixteen summers I was finally a man, and ready to take my place in the world. From my ma I got this old almanac that she’d had off her nanna afore her. At the time I wasn’t too impressed, truth to tell, but you’d be surprised how handy the damn thing has been over the years, especially since I got me own place and had to figure out plantin’ an’ croppin’ an’ such for meself. From me da I got Old Stinger, the gnarled ash bow what was made by me great-great-grandad. Not much of a bowyer but a real bear of a man who could straight-arm an anvil . Pull on it like an oxen, an’ by Virtue, if you didn’t learn to use it just so you’d find out the hard way why it was called Stinger, cos you wouldn’t be able to use yer hand fer the rest o’ the day! But I didn’t care, an’ I thanked ‘em right smart (somethin’ told me bein’ a man didn’t mean too old for a switchin’ if I didn’t show manners.) That night I got to go out to the lightning oak with the other young things, to say our words to the Landkeepers, an’ after that there was cider an’ dancin’ an’ such under the stars. Next mornin’ I was a man steerin’ a plough instead of a boy steerin’ a plough. Not sure why it made all the difference, but somehow it did.