as a dutiful Follower. In the corner of the room she espied the wooden ballot box with its pile of stacked counters. The Pastor sat at the table and bent his head in prayer. Missy did the same. Then she began to lay out the bowls and bread in the required order. The jug with the herbal drink she placed at his right elbow. ‘My beautiful Missy you have done all that is required.’ The Pastor gazed at her belly while he took a generous swig. * The whole village turned out for the crowning of the Spring Queen. There was abundant ale drinking, dancing galore, while the ballot box burned superbly and a lamb was slaughtered for food and cooked over the coals. Missy cradled her new born daughter close to her chest in the woven sling. ‘How is Bella this fine day?’ asked her neighbour Mistress Lively. ‘Flourishing. Thank ye.’ Missy laughed. The girl with geranium eyes, a skinny scrap, snuggled up and put her hand in Missy’s apron. Pulling out sweet treats, the girl did not eat them, but hesitating, dropped them to the mud.
Alyson Faye