Reblogged from Tallis Steelyard:

This is another of those episodes from Maljie’s life that I heard from Laxey, the sub-Hierodeacon. It was just after he returned from his week-long silent retreat. Given that the food had been basically vegetables in one form or another, he was cutting himself thick slices of mott ham with the determined air of a man who had a lot of catching up to do. Indeed he might even have been stocking up ready for the next one.

Still when I think about it, the guilty party behind this story is in point of fact Halwallow Timbartson. This grandly named individual was a mott farmer in a small way just outside the city. He lived in one of those villages which is almost, but not quite, a suburb. At irregular intervals he would arrive at the local inn with a pile of tickets. He would announce ‘buy one and win a mott.’

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