They needed someone to blame for the course of nature. And so they chose a black stallion as the horse that I would ride to my death.
It was a grey October morning and I watched the sun rise slowly over the wide expanse of forest from my prison tower window. Those trees and the life within had been my home since I could remember. My entire family had died of the plague and the town’s spinster herbalist took me in as her own before I could walk.
I thought about the creatures and plants, the changing seasons and the incredible joy I felt within the dense woods. Mother Martha, as I called her, had taught me the secrets of the earth; which species could heal and which could cause death. I had learned well and succeeded her when she left to die alone in her woods two falls prior.
I had been called to the Queen’s bedside to help with the pain of delivering the first heir to the throne. I knew from the moment that I arrived that the child had already died and it would be an arduous task to expel the fetus from her body. I also knew better than to announce the death as I would be called a “seer of evil.” I would do what I could to ease the birth and leave the decree to the royal physician.
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Sometimes my recipes are created out of necessity, as in this case. I bought a 4 lb pork loin that I thought would be great for my hubby to smoke. I’ll be the first to admit that I have no clue as to the fine art of barbecuing, grilling and smoking. He mentioned that this cut might dry out but went ahead and brined and smoked, spending all day tending to our main course for the evening. And lo and behold, he was right. It was far from tender and juicy and instead almost inedible.
Vivo O Sonho 