from the journey, now worn and stiff.
“Come, my lady,” Eluned said. Taid pushed me towards her. Reluctantly I turned away. She took my hand and led me through the door, closing it behind her. I could hear the faint rumbling of deep male voices coming from somewhere downstairs. As I was led back down, the voices grew louder. We reached the hallway and turned into another door. As we entered, the singing, or chanting, stopped.
Inside the room was a long table. Unlike the one in the room where I had slept, this was highly polished and at its centre stood a container filled with flowers of many different colours and shapes. Matthew and the three men I had seen before stood at various places behind chairs placed around the table, their hands resting on the backs of the chairs. I counted five chairs on each side of the table.
“I think the appropriate greeting would be ‘bore da’, eh Non?” Matthew said, smiling as usual. “Gentlemen?”
The other men repeated, together, “Bore da.”
“Take a seat, my dear,” he said. Eluned led me to the chair next to his, pulled it out and bowed slightly as I took what I presumed was my place. Once I was seated she pushed the chair in a little, then stood behind me in silence.
At this moment the three women I had seen previously entered and took their places at the table. They were followed by Taid, now dressed in similar clothes to Matthew. As were the other men, I now realised. The women wore shifts with rope belts similar to Eluned’s and mine, each a different colour.
One of the women produced a small book from somewhere inside her shift, opened it to a marked page and began to chant,
Benedic, Domina, nos et dona tua,
quae de largitate tua sumus sumpturi,
et concede, ut illis salubriter nutriti
tibi debitum obsequium praestare valeamus.
After each line, the rest of the table, with the exception of Taid and myself, repeated the words. I stood with my mouth open, astonished. They were speaking – or chanting – DogLat. The first time I had heard it since the last time I was in Schola, now, I realised with a shock, nearly a week in the past. Although I did not recognise the words as coming from a part of the Bible that I had studied, I was able to understand much of it. They were chanting a blessing, thanking a lady for her generous gifts and promising always to be obedient to her.
When they had finished, Matthew said, “Let us be seated.” This made me feel a little embarrassed, as I was the only one who was already sitting down.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then one of the women and one of the men got up from the table and left the room. They soon returned carrying between them a large loaf on a wooden platter together with a long knife and a heavy jug. When they had placed these in the centre of the table they took their seats again. Another pair then arose and left the room, returning with ten plates, ten knives and ten wooden cups. These were distributed around the table. The other pair left the room and returned with a dish of butter and a plate of boiled eggs.
Taid and I remained seated as this strange procession took place, as did Matthew, and it was now that I realised there was an empty chair. Mererid was not present. As the last pair returned to their seats, Matthew said, “Let us eat,” and proceeded to cut a thin slice of bread from the loaf before handing it to the woman on his left. He took a small portion of butter before again passing the dish to his left. Finally, he filled his cup with what turned out to be milk from the jug. Again the jug was passed on.
I was not in the least used to such rituals as this, and I looked on hungrily as the bread and butter diminished on its journey around the table. I was sitting immediately to the right of Matthew, so was last in line for a turn. When the bread reached Taid, seated to my right, he cut a slice and passed it to me, but Matthew shook his head and gestured for him to take it back.
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley