Chapter 7 - Hope and a Bedtime Story
England April 1864
Flynn and Anthony headed down to the stables and picked out two horses of the highest quality. Flynn took a stocky chestnut mare. Anthony took a Belgian draft mix for himself. He knew it was not practical horse to ride. The draft horse was usually hooked up to a hansom, however, it took Anthony as a rider with not one complaint. The ride into town was pretty swift, even with Anthony’s heavy steed. They heard hymns being sung from a rather strange building. It was not coming from a church, but rather the town hall. Anthony sighed heavily. Not only were they late, it seemed there were many reasons his family were looked on as the black sheep of the English nobility. He pulled his hat down farther to hide his face. He now regretted wearing his family crest. It seemed to burn a hole through his jacket. He could almost feel the gold melting into his flesh. He knew it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Still, he felt his face turning a bright crimson red. Flynn looked at his friend with deep sympathy.
“It will be alright. We will sneak in, like the hung over bloke’s do. We can stand toward the back. Nobody will notice us. That is until you want to make your announcements, alright! Chin up and try not to vomit. You’ll be making things worse for the maids if you do.” Flynn said with a chuckle in his voice.
“Really! Your worried about me getting sick on my garments, because it’s going to make a mess for the maids? Not about making a fool out of ourselves?” Anthony gritted his teeth.
“We are both already fools” Flynn laughed. “So, I think it is too late for that.” He dismounted and tied his horse to a hitching post. Flynn grabbed the reigns to Anthony’s horse and tied him to the same post. Then they made their way inside the town hall. Mass was well underway. Anthony was very grateful for Flynn’s predictions. They blended in with the hung over men, crowded in the back. All of the town drunks were trying to look like they were making somewhat of an effort. The townsfolk knew, after the service ended, the town drunks would stumble right back to the tavern for more of the drink. The priest began to finally end the sermon and close the mass. He walked up to the makeshift podium and began to address the townspeople for the weekly announcements. Anthony got a hard shove in the ribs from Flynn.
“Do I have to make it clearer? Or do I have to kick you in the pants?” Flynn whispered.
“Alright, alright I’m moving.” Anthony’s legs felt like lead. He then felt a good hard shove that almost made him fall flat on his face. Flynn had grabbed him by the back of his jacket as he shoved him so hard, he almost toppled. At least he was still there to catch him if he stumbled. Flynn was still the reason he nearly fell in front of the entire congregation.
Gasps could be heard all over the town hall.
“I am sorry for the interruption Father. I hope you will excuse my rudeness.” Anthony said bowing to the priest. He had his hat over his coat of arms. “If I may have a word with all of you.” He knew the moment had come. As he stood up tall from his bow, he removed the hat and let his coat of arms shine on his chest. The town hall fell silent at the sudden revelation.
“Anthony?” the priest said feebly.
“Yes father. I would just like to make a few announcements, if that is alright?” He smiled.
“My brothers and sisters, before you stands the young Master of Lloyd. He has come home.” The old priest smiled and stepped off the makeshift podium. Anthony stood looking out at all the villagers. Anthony humbly approached the podium and began to speak.
“I come to ask for your help. I have no right to do so, since I have just arrived. I see you are gathering in the town hall. You have no church, the roads are in disarray. My family has been gone for quite some time. I fear I have to leave soon, to tie up my grandfather's affairs. I want to hire the good men of this village to rebuild this town. The roads need mending, the old church needs to be rebuilt. I am the Master of this land, I am Master to it in name only. This is our home. I want it to be something we are all proud of.”
“That church is cursed!” A voice from the crowd said. It was quickly swallowed by the cheers and chatter of the gleeful townsfolk. Anthony looked back in the crowd to Flynn. He took his cue immediately and nodded. He knew exactly what Anthony was thinking. Flynn was off like a bolt and found the man. Anthony wanted to ask him questions about why he shouted those words. He saw Flynn escort the very old man outside. It looked like they were headed off to the direction of one of the more discrete taverns. Anthony was so thankful at his friend’s discretion.
“It looks like our lord has come home. Our parish will have a new place to worship and gather! A rebirth for our town!” The priest was grinning from ear to ear. He put his arm on Anthony’s shoulder. “Lord Lowery, this is exactly what this town needs.” He sighed. “The people here need something to hope for. This will be a distraction from the British campaigns. Wives are being pulled from their husbands and made widows. Their children go hungry, because once their parents perish in some strange land, they are now forgotten. They end up starving and graves have riddled the countryside. Thanks to your family, our region has not been hit that hard. War and famine has hit the crown in many ways. The aristocrats do not want to face the common family. They just point the finger and send who they will, for fame and glory.” The old priest’s face fell. “Jobs will help many in our town, this is indeed a huge blessing.”
“Our family has never been like that. We unfortunately cannot stop the draft. I will not pull men away from their homes unless it is needed. My grandfather didn’t send anyone during the revolution of the Americas, if you noticed. I will not send anyone now, but as you know I cannot go against the crown. I am thankful we are known as the black sheep in court.” Anthony said with a chuckle. “We are known as scholars who are eccentric, who cannot be bothered, only for book work. It has worked for hundreds of years. With the catholic church on our side, we have not been challenged.” Anthony took a deep breath. “Father Paul, I would like to see you up at the estate. I know you are an honest priest, who cares only for our people here. I have several things I need to talk with you about, in private. Tomorrow night, will you dine with us? I would like to discuss the plans for rebuilding.”
“Yes,” the priest gave a humble smile. “It would be my honor, lord Lowery.”
“One other thing. I am just Anthony Lowery. We are in a new time. I am one of you. Let the bureaucrats put that in their pipes.” Anthony put on his hat, tipped it respectfully to the priest and exited the church.
It was rather easy to find Flynn, thankfully. He was just a few streets over, trying to calm the elderly man who was ranting in the church.
“It’s cursed, it can’t be rebuilt! They will come back and fire will come again! So will the festering beasts with it!” The old man began to shake violently. “So many dead, so much disease!” Anthony walked up behind him and put a hand softly on his shoulder. The old man spun around so quickly, his head made a snap. “You all don’t believe me. I just look like the town drunk to you,” he shook his fist in the air. Fear was deep in his eyes, a deep pain leaked out of them. Anthony and Flynn could see that what this man was saying, was far from a drunken man’s raving madness.
“Why don’t you come with us good sir. When is the last time you had a good meal and a fine ale?” Flynn said in a calming voice. “We believe you. We want to hear more about your story.” The old man looked a bit bewildered.
“So, you don’t think I am some damn fool?” A sad smile came from his broken mouth. “My name is William Donnelly my lord. I know who you are. You look a lot like your father when he was young.” William heaved and bit his lip in earnest. “You really won’t think me crazy?”
“No.” said Flynn softly. “I have a feeling, you have seen a bit more than these other folks have. We too, have seen a few things in our day that make us question the world. We would like to hear your story.” He began leading him to one of the older pubs off the beaten trail, still nice but, one where he knew that nobody would pay attention to their conversation.
The three men had entered a pub that was a bit bleaker than the rest of the ones in the village. The floors were still clean and the tables were well kept. Flynn led them over to the back of the room, as close to the fireplace as they could get. A very old lady came out of the back to serve the table.
“What can I get you gentlemen today?” She had her head down shuffling her feet across the wooden floor.
“Three whiskeys and three ales my kind miss. If you don’t mind, what type of wares are you serving?” Anthony said very softly. The old lady had yet to look up from the old wooden floors.
“I’ll have to check with ol’ paw in the kitchen, he’s always cooking up something. Never can tell what. That man has been driving me crazy for the past forty year….” She finally looked up and became dumb struck. “Oh, bless me! Young masters.” Anthony and Flynn just chuckled.
“Well how about this? Can you ask ol’ paw to cook us up three of whatever he’s cooking? We are hungry from after church. Three whiskeys and three ales. Would you be so kind miss?” Anthony held her hand and pressed a solid gold coin into her palm. He knew it would more than cover the meal and whatever they drank. She just nodded in shock and hurried off. A few minutes later she arrived with a very old bottle of whiskey, 3 small glasses and three giant mugs of ale.
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“I hope this will do young masters, ugh… my lord.” She said nervously.
“Thank you, very kindly miss.” Flynn said as he tipped his hat then proceeded to put it on the chair knob behind him. He poured them all a drink of the stiff whiskey. Flynn and Anthony had a feeling there was more to William’s story than just some silly curse. Just as they thought, the man shook as he threw back the first shot of the burning drink. It seemed to calm his nerves a little, but the piercing fear was still clear in his eyes.
“We all loved the church on the hill,” he began softly. “I saw several of my siblings get baptized there. I saw my grandparent’s final blessings there. It was a place of peace, happiness and sorrow. After church, we were always allowed to go and wander the grounds. It was never a bad place, until well you know, it got struck by lightning. The church burned down. We all wondered how a stone church could burn down?” He reached out for the bottle and poured himself another drink. “I was about six years old when they tried to rebuild it. I remember, I had recovered halfway from the fever. My mother said that the fresh air would do me good. I was bundled up outside. It was a beautiful day like any other. The skies were crystal clear. The foremen were working hard. The work was a labor of love.” He took a deep breath and then took a sip of the ale. “I saw the sky become black and it began to rain hard. Everyone began to scramble to get out of the rain. There were tents set up for such an occasion too. No one thought it to be anything out of the ordinary, at first. That day, what I saw, shook me to my core.” A chill ran down William’s back even though he was so close to the fireplace. “I saw a rider sitting on a pale green horse, almost the color of a molded cheese, on top of the hill in the far distance. I think you know the one I am talking about. It’s the one close to the fork pass, if you are going to the mountain trail. I felt so sick. I tumbled over, my body ached something awful. I felt the fever coming back over me. My mother came running up the hill where I was. She carried me out of the rain. I felt so weak.” His voice began to crack. “That’s when I saw.” His voice trembled.
“It’s alright, if you have to take a break,” Anthony said. “May I ask you about the rider?” William gave a weak nod.
“I have been doing a lot of thinking on this Anthony. I wonder if this isn’t a bloody damn circle.” Flynn said.
“What do you mean?” Anthony said extremely perplexed.
“I have a hunch, something about seals. I am still not sure myself. Just some light reading I have been doing since we arrived. The castle is pretty full of odd books. Eh, never mind now about that right now. William, the rider, their horse was the color of molded cheese?” Flynn asked.
“Yes and no,” said William softly yet very firm. “That’s the only way I can describe it. Not pale but solid. Almost like a white pine tree gone horribly wrong, unnatural. I only got a glimpse of the face and that was the strangest part. It was a man, but deformed. We have only had a few cases of leprosy in these parts and its mainly come from travelers. The rider was a carrier. Most people try to hide it, however the look he had in his eyes, was of pure rage. I will never forget it.” Williams breathing had calmed down a bit, however a piercing sadness came into his eyes. “As I watched my mother come to get me on the hill, her warm arms came and embraced me. I don’t know what I saw next, other than demons. The rider out stretched his hand and creatures came out of the earth. They wandered around the camp, randomly touching people. I do remember hearing hoof beats very close to me. I thought that was very strange. I knew the rider was at least a half mile away. I could hear a heavy steed, almost thrashing around the worksite, yet there was not a single print. The next day, more than two thirds of the workers had come down with the pox. It had not touched my mother or me, but it did claim the lives of my father and several of my siblings.”
Quietly, out of the kitchen, a large tray of meat pies, alongside a large apple strudel came with the shuffling of old aching feet.
“I hope this pleases you, young masters.” The old woman said, a bit worried.
“This looks amazing, thank you both for everything” Anthony said heartily. In the back of his mind, he had deep worries. He knew that the church was attached to the family house. His gut was screaming at him that it had to be rebuilt. There were tunnels directly from the estate to the church, or at least rumored to be. Anthony had heard whispers from when he was a boy, there were late night vigils, quiet talks in the underground parts of the church. He overheard his grandfather once or twice mention secret ceremonies were held there.
“What exactly do you know about the church itself.” Flynn asked taking a large bite of the meat pie, trying to act more casual. William took a large gulp of ale and a large helping of the meat pie himself.
“As a kid? I always heard so many wild tales about all the nobles. Who’s to say what is true and what is just a story to entertain?” Anthony raised his glass.
“Now that is the truth if I ever heard it, my friend.” said Flynn.
“My grandfather, bless his soul, was always weaving tall tales. He did always say 'behind each great story, no matter how fluffed, there is always a kernel of truth'. I have been away so long, it would be nice to hear some of the stories from my home, if you don’t mind telling me?” Anthony said with a grin. He knew that the more casual both Flynn and he behaved, and the more the ale kept flowing, hopefully William would let his guard down. Anthony knew he was going to have to look deeper into William’s heritage. He could tell the man was pure of heart. He was struggling by the demons he has seen. If they were demons of the mind or actual demons, that was yet to be seen. Anthony made a choice in his mind. He was going to take the old man under his care. He couldn’t understand why, he had a feeling this new friendship was going to benefit his new endeavors in his town for the better. He just hoped he would be forgiven in time, for tricking his new friend into giving the information he needed, with a bit of ale. Anthony promised himself, he would make it up to William. He knew this meeting would be very blurry to him the next day.
“When I was a young lad,” William began his voice filled with wonder. “My grandfather told me there were several great battles that happened on this very ground. King Arthur himself was a part of that battle.” Flynn and Anthony looked at each other in shock. “A great darkness had spread over the land, far and wide. You must see, this is a children’s fairy tale. We were told this I think, to say our prayers each night before bed, pray, respect our elders,” he waved his hands in the air like a conductor to music. “Little kids stuff to frighten you, but that’s beside the point. As the story goes King Arthur and his knights of the round table had been fighting this great darkness across England. They were against an evil knight, a rider on a bright red horse.” He paused and wiped his chin.
“King Arthur’s sword was struck and broken in half during one of these battles. Then, a rider on a jet-black horse appeared side by side with a rider on a very pale, almost white horse. As the story goes, a very old priest came before King Arthur, with the pale rider dressed in robes of black. The rider on the pale horse presented King Arthur with an old nail, with dried blood upon it. During that time the battle was still going. The rider on the black horse was keeping the entire army of darkness at bay. One warrior, alone in the battlefield, barely hanging on, but that warrior fought hordes of monsters. For hours, that warrior fought alone, as legend goes. King Arthur accepted the gift of the nail, it was forged into his sword. The legendary Excalibur gained more power right here in these moors. His armies grew stronger and were no longer held down in fear by the darkness. It was a gift to fight evil,” He took a great swig of ale.
“As the story has it, when he held up his newly reforged sword, there was a light that lit up the sky. It reflected his pure heart. He led his troops side by side in battle, along with the rider on the massive black steed. They pushed back the darkness until the rider on the red horse fled, taking his hoard with him into the unknown. It’s all a child’s fairy tale. For King Arthur and Merlin, the Magician is all a bit much. A magic nail too, is just too much for me as far as fairy tales go. It's a heck of a tale! How it ends? King Arthur asks the Rider on the Black horse to join him and his knights of the round table. The rider declines and vanishes like a bird!” William laughed out loud, the spirits had definitely taken its full effect, as both Flynn and Anthony had intended it to. “Legend has it, where Excalibur was reformed, is where they built the church. There are other stories about why they built the church and castle. That’s the wildest one, and the most favorite among the town’s folk. Then again, there are so many tales about Arthur himself. He just up and vanished himself. Who knows maybe the rider wanted the sword back.” He laughed.
“That indeed is a wild story. A magic nail saves the day!” Flynn gave a fake chuckle.
“I wish! I could have a thousand of them to fix some of the horses that come by my shop. Each day would make my life a whole lot easier! Shoeing horses is not an easy job, ‘specially if their owners aren’t no good to them!” Williams words were beginning to slur quite a bit. Anthony could see a bit better into who this man exactly was. He was very hard working. It seemed like hitting the drink was his way to escape his nightmares. It had aged him far beyond his years. He could see William was getting very tired. The whiskey, ale and good food he probably had not had in ages, was taking its toll. It was starting to lull him into a drowsy state. Flynn noticed the sun was also starting to wane down in the sky. They had a bit of a ride back to the estate.
“Miss,” Flynn called to the old bar maid. Flynn could hear the shuffle in the back kitchen. She came out very promptly.
“Yes, young masters?”
“You have spare rooms here?” Flynn asked hesitantly.
“Yes, not much but a simple bed and a little basin for washin’ up,” she said kindly.
“Perfect!” Flynn pressed another gold coin into her hand. “We will lead him upstairs. He has had a hard day. In the morning, can you please provide him with a good and hearty breakfast? Could you also tell him to report to his new job at the Lowery estate stables? We are in need of a master farrier, along with a man who is good with his hands.” Then they both proceeded to half drag, half walk William up the stairs. They told him about his new job starting the next day, the best they could.
After they were a good distance from town, and they could see the manor in the distance, is the first time either of them spoke a word.
“Do you believe any of what William told us?” Flynn said.
“To be honest with you, it’s a lot to take in. After what we have seen? I don’t know what to believe. The part about the nail shakes me quite a bit. I will be honest with you chap. My grandfather has always gone on about holy artifacts. Everyone knows that King Arthur's sword is long lost or something out of a kid’s story,” Anthony gulped hard. “I will be frank with you; I am very shocked that William has not drunk himself to death by now. Seeing that as a child, if it’s true, I think the only way he copes with it is by telling himself what he saw was from his fever. The drink has taken its years on him, robbed of many things. I do say if we were not stronger men, the same fate would have become upon us after seeing Mr. Burke's little stunt. I am still a bit shaken up over the whole matter. I know I cannot let what I have witnessed over take me. I fear that is just the tip of the iceberg, of what we are going to encounter on our endeavor,” Anthony said with a heavy heart.
“That’s what I am gathering as well. I want to look into his family a bit more, I have this gut feeling there is more to that man.” Flynn said with a foreboding tone in his voice. “Nothing bad, but something struck me as odd about the fellow. A very strange connection.”
“Our paths were meant to meet you mean?” Anthony bit his lip.
“Yes. I can’t put my finger on it, however, something I have to figure out for myself I think.” Flynn said heavy in thought.