The Journal of Brother Solomon

Part 19

In which a wedding is followed by a play…

Clayday, Truthweek, Earthseason, 614 TA – late afternoon

Just when I thought I couldn’t get any muddier, I’m told that Ariella’s Allstars are also in the tug-o-war competition. It seems straightforward enough, one four-person team at each end of a rope – only this is Hillsgreen Crossing so that rope is stretched over the river (well it’s actually a glorified stream but it still means the losers get wet).

But as we’re catching our breath, George finds a dog at his feet, eyeing him forlornly, the way that some dogs do, usually in the hope of scrounging food. Actually, we all recognise the mutt instantly as Shep, Jake’s dog, which we saved from a Dragonsnail last year.

Just as George is giving him the ‘ooh what a lovely boy’ treatment, we hear someone shouting grumpily, “Shep! Shep! Where are you, boy?” Shep’s ears prick up, he gives a bark and Jake comes striding toward us through the crowd. Shep romps over to him, barking joyously, as if he’s not seen him for a week. Jake calls him to heel, grumbling about him running off. He doesn’t respond the way he did last year, after we returned Shep to him, when he was all over him. Jake seems a little distracted, a little ill-tempered and a little unkempt, like he’s not been looking after himself. So the general uplift in the village as a whole seems to have passed him by. I expect there’s a story behind all this – I wonder if there’s something we can do for him?

But back to the games: I’ve been in tug-o-war contests before; the secret lies in digging your feet in to use your weight as much as your strength. We’re up against the Crossing Cutters, a different set of villagers to those in the Street Football. They all look big and burly. We take our positions, each team on an opposite bank, all hands to the rope. The referee lifts his hand, counts “Three… two… one… Haul!” And we set to…

Despite my excellent grip and throwing every ounce into the rope, our opposition are mean opponents and we’re quickly dragged a couple of yards toward the water. But then we dig our feet in and pull back a yard. Both teams seem to be cheered equally. I wonder if we have wide support in the village or whether the crowd just cheer no matter who’s winning.

The Cutters respond manfully and I think Rufus slips and we lose that hard-won yard. But then Ariella starts chanting, raising our morale, and we haul back two whole yards. It feels like a major gain but actually we’re just back where we started ten minutes ago.

But now the momentum is with us and I really dig my feet in - we quickly gain another two yards. But then I almost lose my grip and I feel my strength ebbing. (I don’t know about the others but all this on top of the Street Football is beginning to tell on my stamina.) But despite this we still gain a yard, so it’s likely the Cutters are tiring too.

I manage to keep it together and Ariella’s chant has us pulling in unison. We grind another two yards and suddenly the Cutters are in the drink – we’ve won! Again! And once again a team effort – I think it says a lot about how we’ve grown to work well as a unit, we’ve been through so much together.

We bask in the admiration of the crowd but the losers get just as much attention. Ariella and Fatima want baths before the wedding so George says he’s off to mingle until the bathhouse in the tavern is free. I decide to scrub up using a bowl of hot water in our room. Once I have my best robes on over my mail and plate, which I do my best to polish, I’m feeling much more myself again as I buckle on my sword-belt.

George turns up as I finish – he thinks the village as a whole is on the up. Our efforts from last year have raised its profile and now it has a tourist industry – not just Tommy’s tours. George thinks the people are happier…

…all except for Jake – George had a chat with him and it seems he’s feeling rejected. He grumbles that Gaillard is going to be a painter now, when before he was apprenticed to Jake as a hunter. It occurs to me that Jake is single and a bit of a loner – Gaillard’s apprenticeship may have been an important social contact for him. I do wonder what we can for the poor man.

Then we hear a knock but as I’m about to say, ‘come in’, I realise it’s for the ladies next door. I think I hear Mary’s voice – probably wanting more sartorial guidance from Fatima, who is rapidly developing a second career as a beautician.

While the ladies are still dressing, George and I rejoin Rufus in the village green. It’s still an hour to the wedding. Someone suggests visiting the market stalls – I’m game, as long as no one expects me to buy anything with six shillings and ninepence in my purse.

A little while later Ariella and Fatima appear – Fatima in a very fetching blue dress. Apparently they’ve both been drafted as bridesmaids by Mary. Mary brought two dresses but Ariella prefers to maintain her image as a warrior nun – and why not? It works for her. They’ll present very contrasting images behind Mary but Fatima is a little concerned about what to do with her mace. She’s worried that Finlay may want to upset the wedding but her dress leaves nowhere to put a weapon much larger than a dagger.

Just then, George and Rufus both start and look at each other, “Did you hear that?” I confess I heard nothing above the general hubbub but it’s clear others in the crowd also heard someone scream from the direction of the stage…

There’s a general movement of the crowd to the north end of the green and I follow George and Rufus. George says the scream came from behind the stage and it sounded like someone is very afraid… Then someone in the crowd shouts ‘fire’ just as Rufus shouts, “There’s the badger!” and leaps on to the stage…

Actually, it’s more of an undignified scramble but he makes it. Ariella goes round the stage to the right while George and I do the same to the left in a classic pincer movement. Over my shoulder I see Fatima calmly climbing into the stage to help Rufus.

I smell burned hair as we round the back of the stage, where we find a poor soul in flames – a horrifying sight! He’s trying to get the beaver suit off, wailing shrilly and setting secondary fires wherever he touches something. I spot the curtain on to the stage swaying, as if someone has just escaped that way – well I’m sure Rufus and Fatima can deal with ‘the badger’.

I’m casting about, looking for something to smother the flames, when Ariella appears the other side and casts Extinguish, putting out the beaver suit and a couple of secondary fires nearby. George and I find a smouldering tree branch.

Meanwhile, from the other side of the curtain, I hear Fatima say, “Dear Finlay…” Only for Pierre’s voice to reply, “Who’s Finlay? I was just looking at the stage…”

Fatima tells him he’s been a very naughty little boy. “Wait till I tell your parents…”

“I just wanted to see if it’s real!”

“Whatever you’ve done, you will be held accountable!”

I sincerely hope Fatima never has to use that tone of voice to me.

Meanwhile, George, Ariella and I are helping Harvey out of the beaver suit. Luckily he’s only got minor burns, though the suit itself is ruined. But then we hear Victoria shout, “Pierre! What are you doing with this riff-raff?” (No really, and apparently she’s standing right in the middle of the ‘riff-raff’.)

I hear Fatima explain that the boy has set someone on fire. Victoria initially tries to deny it but, in front of everyone, Pierre bursts into tears and confesses, “I just wanted to see what happened!”

I find it disturbing that a young boy seems to think it’s reasonable to set someone on fire, ‘to see what happens’. I don’t like Harvey, but I know that setting someone alight is wrong. For a moment I feel real fear about the sort of man Pierre may grow into…

Freed from the remains of the suit and swearing that he’s going to “smack that boy around”, Hartley charges up on the stage and bursts through the curtain – I see Rufus intervene before the curtain falls back. “Get out of my f***ing way!”

Ariella and George follow Harvey but, while everyone is distracted by the show on stage, I take the opportunity to look for a copy of the play. I find various chests strewn about: a couple full of clothes, another holding nothing but a mask bearing a magnificent set of deer antlers, but then I find one with copies of well-thumbed soft-cover booklets, titled ‘The Events of Hillsgreen Crossing”. I smile to myself as I hide one inside my hauberk – George will be pleased.

As I’m searching I hear a little of what’s happening out on the stage and the others fill me in later. Harvey advances on Pierre but Victoria stands tall and actually faces him down. Then Henry intervenes before Harvey can say anything anyone might regret, more or less asking if they can come to an ‘agreement’. Amazingly, Harvey gets hold of himself and replies, “I’ll speak to you later…” Money talks, obviously.

Interestingly, Rufus later tells me that he was well placed to see this exchange and noticed Henry deliberately made no eye contact with Harvey at all. Rufus is sure the two men are well-acquainted with each other. Of course, Harvey is a Gowrie and Henry is devoted to the arts, but I can’t help wondering if they’re both part of the ‘Black Rose Society’…?

At this point, I hear Rufus volunteer to play the Beaver since the suit is no more. Harvey turns on Rufus and demands to know if he can read. But Rufus’ admits Beavers don’t and suggests someone feed him his lines by Mindspeech. But no one knows Mindspeech so Rufus will miss the wedding while he’s taught his lines.

With the script hidden, Harvey comes back through the curtain to find me making a show of stamping out the last sparks. I hold up the beaver suit, “It’s ruined, I’m afraid.” Harvey agrees, “Burned by that damned kid, but never mind, I’ve got the next best thing” and turns to studying his lines. I go to find George…

I find them all round the front of the stage; Ariella’s just mentioning something about the stage feeling less sturdy than it should. I whisper to George that I’ve something he might like to see. He smirks, “Go on, then!” I suggest we find somewhere more private and his smirk gets broader – Mercer/Mataris have such dirty minds.

Back in our room I produce the copy of the script and his eyes light up, “Good man!” He sits down and starts to read. I look over his shoulder but the hand is unclear – I’m sure Gowries write in code – so I leave it all to George, who summarises for the rest of us…

Act I: Ezra descends on the village and bullies the villagers into giving away Ginniver’s home, where she’s been hiding Finlay, a known Chaot. When he finds her, she’s burned at the stake – this apparently is shown on stage.

Interestingly, the script originally portrayed Ginniver as thoroughly evil but it’s recently been amended to paint her in a more positive light – has Tommy has passed on my words from a few hours ago? If so, that is very fast work indeed.

When he finds Ginniver dead, Finlay goes completely mad, killing Ezra and cursing the village and the act ends with Gaillard being struck down, screaming “I cannot tell!” Harvey will play the part of the narrator and Carrie that of Ginniver.

Then in Act II, Johnny Greenwood will play Fatima; Carrie will play Ariella and Harvey will play me. George will be played by Philip Selway, which is fitting since he’s the handsomest of the troup.

Rufus will play ‘the Beaver’ – an amalgamation of Rufus and Bitey who is not given a name and is frankly the comic relief. It portrays our investigation and tracking down of Finlay. In the final fight he’s killed by me, which is pretty much true, but somehow the Brother Solomon in the play is much more martial than the real me, and is portrayed in a sort of heroic leader role. I suppose I should be flattered but it is a little embarrassing…

Well dusk is approaching and it’s finally time for the wedding, which is why we’re all here. Fatima and Ariella will accompany Mary as her bridesmaids so it seems fitting for George and I to be with Gaillard. Fatima really doesn’t want to be without her mace so George will carry it for her – just in case.

I really, really hope it’s not needed.

George and I find Gaillard and Abner in the Matari temple/barn, wearing their best clothes. In one corner are all the wedding presents. In another are various religious offerings to Matar – because it’s Samhain and the wedding is part of the festival – including a lamb for sacrifice. Not everyone can fit in the barn but everyone else is outside in the street, holding armfuls of seasonal flowers – very colourful.

Growing up on the family manor outside Grimpen, our family attended the important village festivals so I’m used to how things work. I will be required to sacrifice to Matar, effectively becoming a layman, but the Mother is associate to Our Lord the Son and I’ve done it before, so it’s not a problem.

Two of the Gowries strike up a pretty little tune and I call Eleanor into Barney, her teddy. Some look at me strangely but I think Eleanor will want to experience the wedding, albeit through my eyes and I’m not wrong. She’s really excited to see Mary make her entrance flanked by Ariella and Fatima, with a young boy holding her train as page. She’s wearing a crown of flowers and her dress is very nice, a fine dark green – I think Tommy has splashed out for his daughter, and why not!

The ceremony is part and parcel with the Samhain festivities. Unlike Azraeli weddings, the woman is not given to the man in Matari weddings. Instead both are given to each other by their respective parents. They symbolically tie a knot in a rope and Gaillard gives Mary a ring, symbolising his ‘buying’ access to her person, lands and/or dowry.

It’s about now that there’s a minor disturbance at the back of the barn. I can’t make out what’s going on but George says someone may be ill, “I’ll just be a minute”, and departs.

While he’s gone, the lamb is sacrificed on the altar and the priest uses the blood to draw a Fertility rune on each of their foreheads. A few minutes later George returns, urgently whispering something to Tommy.

But my attention is on the service: the priest is raising the copper chalice. The happy couple, starting with the bride, will drink wine blessed by the priest. (An elderly relative once told me that, long ago, the chalice would have been filled with the blood of the sacrifice, but now it’s wine – that’s progress for you.)

But just as Mary is about to drink, with one voice, Tommy and George shout “Stop!” Breathlessly, George explains that naughty Pierre had tasted the wine and it’s poisoned! (It seems George found him throwing up outside the barn. He’s quite ill but George thinks he will survive.)

The priest seems flabbergasted but pours the wine on the dirt floor and sends Tommy for a fresh bottle. There’s a brief hiatus while the wine is fetched, poured and blessed by the priest. (They do say that it’s good luck for every successful wedding that there should be just one little hitch – not sure it’s meant to be something like this, though.)

Of course, it does make me wonder about the timing of the poisoning. You’d think that the blessing of the wine should allow Matar to ensure its purity. Which suggests it was poisoned after the blessing of the chalice, which can’t have been too long before the ceremony started.

So Mary and Gaillard sip from the chalice and the priest pronounces them ‘man and wife’. He goes on to say they will return to the barn tonight for their blessed conjugation. Is Mary blushing under that make-up?

Mary faces the altar, turning her back on the congregation, and throws her crown of flowers over her shoulder. As it flies through the air, someone lunges but misses. It lands at Ariella’s feet – she makes no move to catch it, of course. There’s a brief squabble over who should have it but this is all part of a Matari wedding ceremony.

The couple emerge from the barn to a shower of flowers in the gathering dusk.

Eleanor really enjoyed the wedding. It’s a shame she can’t remain for the play, which is next, starring the groom… as himself.

We emerge from the crowd to find Henry handing Pierre into a carriage. He and Victoria are taking the boy back to Fotheringay Manor. Pierre looks green! Before entering himself, Henry repeats his request that we visit them on the morrow. For him to think of that at this time must mean that Pierre isn’t quite as bad as he looks. I certainly hope not, anyway.

Of course, Talulah insists George is her escort for the play. Following just behind, I hear her announce how shocked she is by the poisoning – and from the tone of her voice I’m sure she is – but that she’s really looking forward to the play.

By now it’s dark, but the stage is hauntingly lit by banks of candles. Harvey opens his narration regarding, ‘the sleepy village of Hillsgreen Crossing’. The first act proceeds as per the script George read out earlier. Carrie, playing Ginniver, is an excellent actress – her screams when Ginniver is burned are truly blood-curdling. I don’t know if her revised portrayal of Ginniver is due to my talk with Tommy earlier on, but nonetheless I’m gratified that Ginniver is a sympathetic character. Rufus appears briefly to the left of the stage, possibly to feed Gaillard his lines, but his part as The Beaver does not appear until the second act.

Colin Greenwood rather overacts his performance as Finlay, who is completely evil and mad to boot, but it goes largely unnoticed. Ezra, played similarly by Ed O’Brien, gets his comeuppance when Finlay kills him. Finlay then has a big speech, well delivered, where he curses ‘all the evil Mataris’ of the village, including ‘that horrible son’ who showed Ezra where Ginniver lived.

Gaillard falls to his knees, screaming “I cannot tell!”, and that’s the end of Act I.

During the interval we have drinks – I treat myself to another tot of the Glenochre… Mmm! All the villagers seem to be enjoying the play. Carrie’s portrayal of Ginniver has been taken very well and several remark that it makes them look at Ginniver in a new light.

Fatima observes that she thought Rupert looked almost like he flinched at the end, when Gaillard was hit by the curse, but he seemed to recover his poise very quickly. At first, I’m inclined to dismiss this as Fatima’s paranoia over a known Chaot, but I must admit that it’s one more strange thing to set against Rupert – after all, the 8^th Commandment is there for a reason. Perhaps we need to keep a closer eye on him?

But then Rufus comes out from backstage. He can’t stop long but he breathless tells us Rupert is ‘the Badger’! Rufus found a supporting strut beneath the stage had been sawn through, just beneath where Gaillard should fall to his knees when the curse hits him. It would have collapsed the entire stage but Rufus managed to hold things together by his knowledge of carpentry and brute strength. Then Detect Enemies found a solid glow from Rupert, of all people.

Rufus runs off to take his part for Act II but Fatima points out a couple of spare seats; we do need to keep a closer eye on Rupert, so Ariella and I – warrior nun and warrior monk – take flanking positions behind and to either side of him as the curtain rises for the second act.

Act II has only two locations, Tommy’s inn and Ginniver’s hovel. Harvey plays me – a much more capable and charismatic version of me than reality, to be honest. Philip Selway is also very charismatic as George – I’m sure Talulah is delighted.

In this act Carrie plays Ariella, and is completely transformed, complete with mail skirts and winged helm. But Johnny Greenwood plays a caricature of Fatima, dressed in black and delivering his lines in a dull monotone. I don't know if he’s just a poor actor or if he really doesn’t like the part but he does stumble over several lines. (I wonder if he wasn’t originally cast as me, before Harvey took the part after the burning of the beaver suit.)

Rufus plays himself, which hardly taxes his acting skills, but his comic timing is outstanding. Of course, he’s a follower of Thalia, the Muse of Comedy, but if I didn’t know better I’d say he positively relishes being the comic relief.

In the final scene, Brother Solomon valiantly kills evil, mad Finlay, who is taken away by the Horned Woodland Demon (is that Colin Greenwood under the antlered mask?) and Gaillard is cured! Hurrah!

There’s a couple of curtain calls with all the cast bowing to rapturous applause, not least from me – the Lord be praised, Harvey makes me look so good! Then he announces that the inn is open for the wedding feast and everyone rises and starts moving toward the inn.

Talulah rises and thanks George very warmly, passing something from her purse (I don’t see what) as a ‘token’ (she doesn’t say of what, but I can guess) and reminds him to call on her tomorrow. “I’m looking forward to it” he replies, and so would I in his place. Then Edward and Fanny come over to collect Talulah for the trip back to Fotheringay Manor.

Ariella and I have kept our eyes on Rupert. Strangely, he’s among the last to rise, and he’s been a little slumped, almost like he’s asleep in his seat. But he does rise and Ariella and I rise with him, keeping him within sword-reach to either side. Neither of us draw our weapons but my hand is on my hilt.

Rufus comes down from the stage, striding toward Rupert with hand raised, pointing. He accuses Rupert of sabotage, who denies everything, and to me he seems genuinely flummoxed. Fatima, rather understandingly, gently asks what he can recall about the play and he admits to having fallen asleep. I honestly think he’s telling the truth. He is trying to hide something (probably that he’s a Chaot) but he has no recollection of sabotaging the stage.

So Rufus repeats his Detect Enemies for Gaillard and reports that Rupert no longer glows! Ariella and I exchange glances – was Rupert possessed? Ariella casts Spiritsight but sees no loose spirits – if it was Finlay, he’s long gone. We let Rupert go with Edward, Fanny and Talulah.

Save for the Gowries, busy taking down the stage, we’re alone in the dark of the village green. We have a degree of privacy out here that would be denied in the tavern so we discuss what to do next…

Fatima asks what we can do to counter Finlay’s ghost: Free Ghost could work, and both she and Ariella have the spell, though Fatima’s is one-use only, of course. If I could find a shrine to Our Lord I might sacrifice for the spell myself, but that would take a day and would lower a Power which I am supposed to be working to improve.

Rufus and I have Spirit Binding, but we’d need something to bind Finlay into (Rufus has a spare crystal but I don’t). The difficulty would be forcing Finlay into spirit combat but it could be an option should he attack either of us of his own will. But Spirit Binding and Free Ghost would both demand successful vanquishing of Finlay’s Power, so is not a guarantee – and we’d need warning of his presence.

Of course, were I a shaman, my fetch could maintain permanent watch on the spirit plane to warn of his presence, and either engage Finlay or possess my body while I discorporate and take on Finlay myself. This is just the sort of thing a shaman is good for. It’s not impossible that a fetch could ‘volunteer’, making me a shaman overnight – stranger things have happened – but, let’s face it, I’m almost certainly at least a season away from shamanhood. Pity! It would be the readiest solution – Finlay would be short work for Vandergraaf, for example.

The one thing that bothers me about all this is that it seems a little petty for Finlay to merely sabotage a stage, but I find it difficult to express my doubts to the others until Fatima comes to my aid – it hardly seems to be in the same league as murdering half-a-dozen Vikings, does it?

George mentions the poisoning and that does seem a little more like it but it can’t have been too lethal a toxin for Pierre, a nine-year old, to survive its effects. Of course, it is quite possible that Pierre has since succumbed, we won’t know until at least tomorrow.

But then Ariella, considering the nature of Adrasteia, offers an insight, and I must bow to her perspicacity. She thinks the way the cult goes about vengeance isn’t necessarily about killing, rather it focuses on harming the victim. The ultimate harm is usually (but not always) death but, considering Finlay’s disembodied state, there’s a limit on what he can achieve.

She’s right, of course. For example, when it came to poisoning the wine, Finlay would have had to possess someone, possibly Rupert, possibly someone else, but he could hardly prepare the poison in advance, he’d have to make do with whatever came to hand at short notice.

Of course, possession demands a Power contest, and is usually pretty traumatic but Rupert didn’t seem to have been traumatised. Then it occurs to me, perhaps he fell asleep at some point beforehand. While unconscious, our spiritual defences are down and it’s possible for a possession to happen without overt trauma beyond the sort of nightmare we all shrug off from time to time.

Mmm! When I see Rupert tomorrow, I must ask him if he recalls any bad dreams…

But for now, I feel the spirits calling to me… and the name of that spirit is… Glenochre!