'What changes do you suggest?'
'I don't know.' Tom shrugged. 'I'm not sure what's involved. All I know is that she gets tense whenever anyone mentions the ceremony?'
'That's not much to go on.'
Tom searched his mind, trying to pin down the cause of the queen's concern. 'It's the stallion,' he said at last. 'She wonders why she should be so intimately involved in its fate. Those are her very words. I told her about the changes in my former realm ... how the queen and the stallion no longer get together?'
'They don't here anymore,' Thunder said. 'We stopped that a long time ago. So long ago most people say it never happened.'
'We went much further,' Tom said.
'What do you mean?'
'We got rid of the stallion.'
'That was very clever ... a bit like taking the egg out of the omelette.'
Thunder grasped his drinking horn thoughtfully.
'However did you do it?'
'People realised the stallion's role was largely symbolic.'
'Largely symbolic!' Thunder spluttered into his beer. 'That's something a simple warrior, like myself, finds very difficult to understand.' He took a quick swig. 'What did the mares think about it?'
'The mares?'
'Aye. When they were receiving the stallion's blessing ... did they think his role was largely symbolic?'
'They weren't asked. Their role was symbolic too. People who mattered ... people like us ... realised the stallion represented no more than the earthly embodiment of the Good God's masculine powers. As such, the stallion was one of the God's representatives on this earthly plane ... but not the only one.'
'Not the only one?'
'That's right. The God has many representatives and we may pick and choose the one to use in our ceremonies. If the stallion starts to offend then we find a substitute. It's just a matter of putting your mind to it.'
Thunder looked thoughtful.
'What substitute did your people use?'
'Bread and red wine.'
'Hgh.' Thunder grunted. 'I can't see people going along with that. They wouldn't have any part in it. Wine is what your southerners drink.'
'Then use beer. You can dye it to make it the right colour.'
'You can dye it any colour you like.' Thunder signalled for another beer. 'It still won't work.'
Their discussion was interrupted by the Great Horn of the Catti. Its raucous note announced the beginning of the evening ceremony. Tom followed Thunder into the cobbled area outside the House of Ways and was greeted by a roar of acclamation. The assembled warriors shouted his name, linking it with the queen's father.