Fisher And The Bears by T Hodden

Author:T Hodden [Hodden, T]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-01-28T04:30:00+00:00

Three: Clarumcoma mustn't die.

...We were stood in the middle of a village green. It was a brisk and bitter winter morning, so cold there were icicles dangling from the skeletal yew trees that marked one side of the green. The air was clean and crisp, and around the green were a selection of quaint old houses and buildings that probably had not changed much at all in the last few hundred years.

Much closer was a collection of villagers staring at the green. A perfect circle of grass had been turned to ash. Pretty much like the circle we too were standing in, as yet unnoticed. One by one the villagers turned to look at us, dismay on their faces as they saw the steam wisps around our ankles that had been frost a blink of an eye ago. The smouldering char where there had been frozen grass. One of them, tall, theatrical and austere looking had the devil in his eyes.

“Now see here!” He declared loudly. “I enjoy a good Twelfth Night jape as much as the next man, but by god sir if I did not already tell the last members of your fools parade that it is barely morning and I will not stand for the burning of this green! Is ash and smoke your idea of festive cheer?”

“These others who appeared from nowhere,” I said sharply, “were they about this tall, albino, dressed in strange grey clothes and carrying weapons?”

“Indeed they were sir!” The tall man declared.

“Five feet nine inches, the build of an acrobat and carrying satchels, the contents of which I could not tell you.” A toddler announced in a well practised way of speaking. Her was rather verbose for a four year old.

“And asking for the manor house?” I said.

“Asking for the location of mother.” The boy said.

“That is enough Mikey.” The man hissed. “Do you say they were armed? Not here for the festivities?”

“I am afraid not sir.” I tried to stand tall and military. I happened to notice the ring on his finger, replete with the masonic icon. “I was sent here to help a widows son.” I said carefully. “And to warn him that two ruffians,” I put an emphasis on that code word, “intend harm to his wife, and the child she carries unborn.”

“You are a mason?” The man asked, suddenly close to me and squeezing my arm as he whispered in my ear.

“No. But I work for one. He begs you listen to me.” I said.

“It will cost us nothing to see if you are right.” The boy, Mikey said, “and if this is a joke we will have you detained at our leisure.”

“Please. Check on your wife. If I am wrong we can be punished however you see fit.” I said.

The man nodded and waved for us to follow him. He strode across the green in the direction of a modest manor house, flanked by the sturdiest of the men from the village.

“So, I take it,” Ted whispered,

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