11: Barley Night
M
arrag
sat in the firelight of the great brushwood pile, the women of his house about him, Garroch’s wives. They had decked him with leaves and barley straw, for now he was the Corn Man again, his son having passed back the magic power to him after the dance.
Garroch stood behind his father, the thong-marks still deep in his legs and arms, the white clay washed from his body.
And as they waited, the sounds of singing and drums came over the fields towards them, and the torchlight burst on to their eyes.
‘They are bringing the one who cut the last sheaf, who cut the Corn Hag,’ said Gwraig, knowingly. ‘Let us hope he makes good sport before he goes to Earth Mother.’
Brach crept to her father and put her arm about him, afraid. Marrag stared before him, as he had done
