Free Moyra Caldecott by Etheldreda Page B

and longed for the good times she and her friends had had at Easter when she was a child.
    The royal party set off joyfully, even King Eorconbert relaxing and smiling at last. Etheldreda had been surprised at the change in him since she had seen him at her sister’s wedding. It was as though the godless libertine days of his father Eadbald had so scarred him as a child that he was determined to devote the rest of his life to imposing their opposite.
    The day was bright and light. Etheldreda rejoiced to hear the children chattering cheerfully again. Heregyth had suggested that they change into simple clothes so that they would not inhibit the locals with their royal presence, and they had been happy to do so. On more than one occasion they were pelted with petals.
    The afternoon was nearly over and they had decided to turn back, when they saw a procession in the distance and agreed to witness this one more event before their return. The children cried out with delight when they found that the procession was headed by a beautiful decorated cart, on top of which was a chair under a canopy, the curtains hiding what was presumably a very important person. Its progress along the lanes and over the fields was a noisy one, everyone singing and dancing and playing music. At each field it stopped and the canopied chair was taken from it and borne over the field on the shoulders of the slaves who had been pulling the cart.
    ‘Who is in it?’ cried Eormengild, her eyes shining.
    ‘It is an old custom,’ her mother said. ‘The people used to believe that it was the Earth Goddess herself who rode in the cart, and she was going to give her blessing to the fields so that they would bear good crops. Now they know there is no Earth Goddess, but we still let them do it to keep them happy, otherwise they would blame us if the crops failed. The priests tell them it is the Virgin Mary and she is giving her blessing to the fields.’
    ‘Is there a beautiful lady behind the curtains?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Did there used to be when it was the Earth Goddess?’
    ‘There never was an Earth Goddess. The heathen priests used to say they “felt” the presence of the Goddess at certain times and the superstitious people believed she was there. No one ever saw behind the curtains.’
    The procession was becoming noisier and noisier, and before they could stop them the children and Heregyth had climbed down from their horses and were dancing with the farmers and the villagers. The royal adults followed at a little distance, sometimes amused, sometimes embarrassed by the antics of the crowd. One hairy, bearded youngster had dressed himself up as a woman with a great deal of straw pushed into a bag over his belly so that he seemed very pregnant, and was swaggering and staggering about, pouring strong ale alternately down his own throat and over his neighbours’ heads. Some youths and young girls were actually making love in the fields.
    Etheldreda could see that Eorconbert did not really approve of what he was seeing, but remembering that Pope Gregory had told the English missionaries to tread carefully where old customs were deep-rooted, and rather transform than abolish them, he was keeping himself in check.
    The sun was almost setting when they finally reached a lake and Eorconbert told Saxberga to call the children back because the festival was over and they had a long ride home before dark. It took a bit of time to locate the children and in that time the whole character of the light-hearted festival had changed.
    Etheldreda sitting on a small knoll looking down at the scene, at first was surprised to see the cart and the slaves walk straight into the water, and was then horrified to see that when the slaves had sunk the cart in the water and were trying to walk out again, some of the men from the crowd, dressed in strange outlandish garments, which she later learned were the garments of their shamans, rushed in with whips and beat them back and