It occurred to Tom that the flesh might not be properly cooked. Perhaps that was worrying the old woman. On the other hand there could be good reason for it. The purpose of the ceremony was to capture the life force which the stallion was privileged to bear. It might be weakened by cooking. He was contemplating this possibility when a shrill voice disturbed his thoughts.
'Let the union begin.'
Women in black lifted the queen from her seat. She was born aloft and rushed towards the cauldron. The little girls ran along beside trying to keep the white gown in place. It rode up and they tugged at the ends to hold it back.
'Magdoor. Avu. Anu. Birgit. Sheela ...'
The women recited the names of the goddess and the men joined in, shouting the names of the Good God. Tom heard his old name again. Everyone knew it. There was nothing menacing about the voices but they sent shudders down his spine.
'Tomas. Tomas ...'
He turned his head and shut out the chanting. The old woman's feet had reached the rim of the cauldron and she was being lowered into it. The little girls arranged the veil about the rim. It got a bit stained but the overall effect was neat and tidy.
Tom turned to Thunder.
'What happens next?'
'We get into line and take our turn.' Thunder picked up a wooded bowl. 'One of the sisters ladles in some of the broth and you drink it.'
'I can't understand what's upsetting Her Majesty so much,' Tom reached for a bowl. 'I thought there would be much more to it than that. It's all rather tame compared with what used to go on in my old place.'
'I can't understand either.' Thunder took a swig of beer. 'Her mother didn't like it either ... women are like that.'
***
Alison bent over and vomited, one eye on her sword and the other on the ragged group of men huddled around a fire. They roared with laughter and slapped Fury on the back, saying they didn't think he had it in him. Fury sat awkwardly amongst them, too scared to get up and leave.
Another wave of nausea hit her. She knew what it was. The term in her former realm was morning sickness. She retched and the men beat their fists on their chests. They reminded her of a pack of monkeys. Vomit trickled from her mouth and dripped onto the mud. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and listened as one of them asked Fury what it was like to make love to a lynx.