Free Under the Green Hill by Laura L. Sullivan Page B

her blossomy bower. They adjusted themselves in a way that made Meg think of a prelude to a square dance, and seemed to Rowan like the starting positions of some obscure sport. As it happened, it was both.
    â€œThey’re about to start the Love Chase,” Gul Ghillie said. “Oi, Finn, flatten yourself a bit!” Finn had started to crawl forward, and was craning his neck to get a better look at the May Queen, who was descending from her litter to stand very close to the fire.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Meg asked. But even Gul Ghillie seemed to have become spellbound, and he didn’t answer, only looked intently up the Red Hill.
    At first it really did resemble a stately dance, or perhaps a pantomime. If the participants spoke, their words were too hushed to reach the interlopers. The May Queen was surrounded by a bevy of girls her own age, who seemed to be adjusting her clothes and setting new flowers in her hair. Then they parted, and the girl stood alone for a moment in the shifting orange of the three fires. She looked much smaller than she had in her regal and flowery throne, held high above her admirers, and Meg wondered if she felt frightened.
    Two women came from the crowds of older people that were assembled farther down on the slope. One—who might have been the girl’s mother, for she, too, was fair and had the same rough, cheerful prettiness—reached her first, and took her in her arms in a swift, fierce embrace before turning abruptly and almost running away, without looking back. The second woman was Phyllida Ash, and over her bright garments she had draped a dark veil that covered her from her head to the hem of her skirt.
    She seemed more shadow than flesh, so dark was she among the bright young folk who swayed as firelight played on their bare limbs. They all seemed to draw away from her, except for the May Queen, who stood very still when Phyllida touched her forehead and then placed a switch of wood and a hunting horn into her hands. This was fashioned from the curved black horn of a bull, charged over with red scrolling, and suspended from a strap of leather. The May Queen placed it to her lips, as Meg and the others strained forward to get a better view.
    Meg wasn’t at all sure what was happening—everything seemed so strange and solemn, as though the smallest actions held meanings as deep as the earth’s very foundations. She was no longer frightened, but she felt as if something profound was happening right before her, and she didn’t quite have the wit to understand it.
    The May Queen blew the horn…and all that emerged was a shrill squeak that tapered off into a rude noise. Much to Meg’s relief, the May Queen laughed, high and floating, and Phyllida’s veil fell back to reveal her own mirth. The spell seemed to dissolve, and they were no longer players in an esoteric mystery, but only revelers gathered in celebration.
    â€œSo it has begun!” Phyllida Ash cried out across the hill, and the May Queen, plainly smiling even at a distance, looped the horn across her shoulders and set off at a run down the hill. When she was nearly at the base, a score of the young men (and a few not so young) set off after her.
    â€œIs this the Love Chase?” Meg asked.
    â€œAye, hush!” Gul hissed, pressing himself lower against the earth.
    The boys in pursuit clearly didn’t push themselves to their full speed. The May Queen ran lightly but not too quickly across the dewing grass, and the boys loped some distance behind while she completed a circuit of Red Hill. Their path brought them within a few feet of where the children hid, but the brambles were thick, and the participants so intent on their task that the children were in no danger.
    When she was making a second lap, the boys closed in upon the May Queen, but to Meg’s astonishment the girl turned as she ran and struck out at the nearest of them with the switch Phyllida Ash had