{"sf1_id":1037210,"sf2_id":"pnGPMRK1","title":"In the Service of Mystery (Pt. 7)","author":"CofEFur","words":1899,"posted_at":"2016-06-28T08:54:00.000Z","tags":["Canine","Clean","Lynx","Mystery","Plot Development","guinea pig"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1037210-in-the-service-of-mystery-pt-7","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/pnGPMRK1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/e6/86/e686e6ce-f721-4030-b99b-669b8ce283d7","description":"#7 of In the Service of Mystery\n\nFather Francis and Reverend Cormack discover the ruins of the Abbey ...and something more sinister.","content":"'Yeah,' I laughed, 'Look it's my day off today and you're supposed to be having a break from parish life, I thought we could go to look at the ruins of an old Abbey that is not too far away.'\n\n'Okay,' Replied Harry, 'What's got you interested in archaeology all of a sudden?'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I explained to Harry the gist of Anna's story.\n\n'... So, I thought it would be interesting to check it out.'\u0026nbsp; I finished.\n\n'That sounds good.'\u0026nbsp; Said Harry, 'with my parish work, I don't think I've done any walking for\u0026nbsp;pleasure in an age.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Half an hour and one phone call to Charlie Hopes to drop some clothes over the Harry later we set out.\u0026nbsp; I'd thrown together some lunch to eat on the go and stuffed our picnic into an old rucksack of mine.\u0026nbsp; By now it was mid-morning and the day was warming up.\u0026nbsp; We walked down the strangely quiet road and passed the church.\u0026nbsp; We cut off the road opposite the village school and headed towards the Amble along a footpath which wound its way across the water meadow.\u0026nbsp; So far the summer had been hot and dry and the river was merely a trickle in the centre of its muddy bed.\u0026nbsp; We stood on the footbridge and watched as a large electric blue dragonfly droned lazily across the surface of the water.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; We clattered across the footbridge.\u0026nbsp; The bridge had been built many centuries before to allow the old road to continue along the valley to Newton.\u0026nbsp; Now I wondered if the redoubtable Abbot Henry Leonis had had a hand in its construction.\u0026nbsp; Once we reached the eastern bank we were enveloped in the green coolness of the woods.\u0026nbsp; The woods were, as far as I knew, the last remnant of an ancient forest - now all but rooted up by farming and development.\u0026nbsp; But, here at least, the old wild country still had some power.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; We walked for about another mile until we came to a small clearing.\u0026nbsp; In the centre of the clearing was a stone circle.\u0026nbsp; There were a few stone circles left in the area; I remember going to a lecture at the Amblehead Civic Centre that had said that the Amble Valley was once an important cultic centre in the Stone Age.\u0026nbsp; I decided that now would be a good time for lunch and picked out a handy fallen tree trunk to use of the bench.\u0026nbsp; As I busied myself with getting our lunch out of my bag, Harry started to mooch around the circle.\n\n'I wonder when the stones were last visited.'\u0026nbsp; I said.\n\n'Animals must come past it all the time.' said Harry.\n\n'No,' I replied, 'The last time they were visited for their intended purpose.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Harry shrugged and continued to walk around the circle.\u0026nbsp; Then, his ears flattened against his head and his tail began to swish from side-to-side.\u0026nbsp; He prodded at something on the ground with one of his foot paws.\n\n'The stones have been used quite recently, I think.'\u0026nbsp; He said quietly.\n\nI stood up and padded across the clearing to Harry.\u0026nbsp; My ears started to flatten themselves against my head as well, as Harry became increasingly nervous.\u0026nbsp; This did not feel right, I had always felt able to rely on Harry's cool and his calmness.\u0026nbsp; I tried to convince myself that this was still just Harry reacting to his recently reopened mental wounds from his time in the army, but this felt different.\u0026nbsp; As I reached him, I saw what he had been prodding at.\u0026nbsp; There was a part burnt stub of a candle and a piece of metal.\u0026nbsp; I hunkered down and picked up the candle stub. \u0026nbsp;I sniffed at it tentatively: there was a lingering aroma like damp leaf mould.\u0026nbsp; I rolled it over in my paw and noticed that the black colour of the candle rubbed off to reveal simple beeswax underneath.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I passed the candle stub to Harry, who put it on top of the nearest stone.\u0026nbsp; I wiped my paws on the grass before picking up the piece of metal.\u0026nbsp; It appeared to be a fragment of a blade, the sharp edge glinted dully in the sunlight.\u0026nbsp; It reflected my face in a reddish light, turning the white on my muzzle a deep crimson.\u0026nbsp; I could just make out words etched into the surface.\n\n'There's something written on this.'\u0026nbsp; I said.\n\nI straightened up to show the fragment to Harry:\n\nAfon o Aberth\n\nWe both read the words, they were in a language that seemed both strange and yet familiar to me.\u0026nbsp; I turned the fragment of metal over and over in my paws I looked at Harry, and said:\n\n'This doesn't feel right.\u0026nbsp; Let's get on to the Abbey.'\n\nHe nodded and I stuck the piece of metal into my pocket.\u0026nbsp; A few minutes further down the path the ruins of the monastery came into view.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; The Abbey had been reclaimed by the forest, the stubby remains of towers and walls were covered in ivy and undergrowth.\u0026nbsp; Here and there flourishing trees grew through what would have been windows or rooves.\u0026nbsp; It took some effort, but I was beginning to build a picture of the place as it had been.\u0026nbsp; Here was once the monks' dormitory, and here their calefactory, their socialising space.\u0026nbsp; Here they once ate in silence; and here could have been the scriptorium.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Ahead of us lay the Abbey Church, the low remains of the walls peeking out of the bushes.\u0026nbsp; The church must have been twice the length of the parish church in the village. \u0026nbsp;I found my mind's eye filled with figures in black habits walking slowly towards the church.\u0026nbsp; At their head was a lion, this must have been Abbot Henry.\u0026nbsp; I thought that I heard the faint tolling of a bell I glanced at Harry and he said to me:\n\n'Did you just hear that?'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I nodded, my tail swishing nervously. \u0026nbsp;I watched Harry move slowly towards the ruin of the church.\u0026nbsp; As I followed cautiously after him I noticed that, here and there, there were patches of blackened and scorched earth and stone; and a lingering odour of burning.\u0026nbsp; Within the lines of the ancient walls the smell of burning was much stronger; and there was another scent in the air.\u0026nbsp; I sniffed and then retched, it was a foul rotting stench.\u0026nbsp; Ahead of me Harry had pressed a paw to his nose.\u0026nbsp; I walked over to Harry and put my paw on his shoulder.\u0026nbsp; He spun round, his eyes wide.\u0026nbsp; I motioned for him to come back the way we came.\u0026nbsp; He nodded briefly, then leant down and picked something up from the ground.\u0026nbsp; We both hurried away from the ruins.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Once we had regained the apparent safety of the footpath we stopped and gulped down lung falls of blessedly untainted air.\u0026nbsp; I sat down at the side of the path and began to pick little seeds and various bits of vegetation out of the fur on my tail.\u0026nbsp; Harry sat down next to me.\n\n'What was that?'\u0026nbsp; He asked.\n\n'Not the foggiest.'\u0026nbsp; I replied, 'I know one thing: I never want to experience it again.'\n\n'You know what it reminded me of?'\n\nI shook my head.\n\n'Rotting bodies.'\u0026nbsp; Said Harry was no emotion in his voice.\u0026nbsp; 'I smelt it first in the army.\u0026nbsp; When I was a peacekeeper we found a mass grave.\u0026nbsp; We had to guard it from the locals while the forensic archaeologists did their work.\u0026nbsp; The smell lingered in my fur days afterwards.\u0026nbsp; I thought I was going to smell of death forever.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I shivered.\u0026nbsp; Normally as a priest the bodies I saw were either embalmed and at funerals or of someone who had died during the Last Rites - the recently deceased tend not to smell.\u0026nbsp; I stared up at the sky for a moment, and then said:\n\n'What did you pick up back there, Harry?'\n\n'Another bit of metal.'\u0026nbsp; Harry replied, 'I thought it looked similar to yours.\u0026nbsp; Come on, Nerd, let's see if they do match.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Harry fished in his pocket and drew out a piece of metal that was indeed very similar to the fragment we had found earlier.\u0026nbsp; Both pieces had the same reddish hue, the same dull sheen.\u0026nbsp; Awkwardly I retrieved my fragment from my pocket.\u0026nbsp; On closer examination the piece of that Harry had found was somewhat larger than mine.\u0026nbsp; Where my piece fitted comfortably in my paw, Harry's was at least twice the length.\n\n'Do you think they could be from the same thing?'\u0026nbsp; I asked.\n\n'Couldn't say,' Replied Harry, 'I'd say they are made from the same metal, though.'\n\n'Hmm...' I rolled both pieces around in my paws until the inevitable happened.\u0026nbsp; 'Ow!'\u0026nbsp; I cried, I turned my paw over.\u0026nbsp; 'That's gone really deep.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I held my paw up while Harry rooted through the rucksack.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;After a moment, he pulled out what appeared to be my favourite scruffy T-shirt and wrapped it tightly around the cut.\u0026nbsp; I looked at Harry aghast.\u0026nbsp; Before I could say anything, Harry said:\n\n'We need to get home - that cut needs to be cleaned properly.\u0026nbsp; Why don't you have a first-aid kit in here?'\n\nMy mouth dropped open.\n\n'But, that was my favourite Fratello Metal shirt.'\u0026nbsp; I said.\n\n'You're bleeding, and you don't have a first-aid kit.\u0026nbsp; So, stop acting like a spoiled puppy.'\u0026nbsp; Said Harry, 'As far as I care that shirt was long overdue going in the bin when we were at seminary.\u0026nbsp; I don't know why you've still got it.'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I stuck my tongue out at Harry, but I could see his point.\u0026nbsp; We set off back the way we came.\u0026nbsp; After our experience at the ruins, the woods did not seem as welcoming as before.\u0026nbsp; Harry set a blistering pace and soon we were crossing back over the Amble and into the village.\u0026nbsp; As we reached the road, I caught sight of Laura.\u0026nbsp; I waved my un-bandaged paw and she waved back.\u0026nbsp; We crossed the road to meet her.\n\n'Harry, I'd like you to meet Laura Cavia.'\u0026nbsp; I said, 'No, that's wrong - Laura Buck.\u0026nbsp; We were good friends at Anskar's.\u0026nbsp; Laura, this is Reverend Harry Cormack; we trained together and he'll be staying with me for a while.'\n\n'Hi!'\u0026nbsp; She said to Harry, then she saw my other paw.\u0026nbsp; 'What in goodness' name have you done to yourself?'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; This was said in what I can only describe as a teacher's voice: it brought memories of getting into trouble at school flooding back.\u0026nbsp; Needless to say I reverted to type:\n\n'Cut my paw.'\u0026nbsp; I muttered.\u0026nbsp; 'And Harry ruined my favourite T-shirt.'\n\n'Come on, Francis, grow up.\u0026nbsp; We've got a first-aid kit in the staffroom.\u0026nbsp; Sorry, Reverend Cormack, you don't mind coming in for a moment, do you?'\n\n'No, of course not.'\u0026nbsp; Replied Harry, 'Anyway: I want to see how far he'll revert to primary school puppy!'\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Laura laughed and led us into the school.\u0026nbsp; The school was housed in a rambling Victorian building.\u0026nbsp; It seemed to me to be the epitome of an old country primary school: the loose parquet flooring that clicked and squeaked under our paws; the walls lined with fuzzy green noticeboards covered in pupils' work; the high ceilings; and the lingering smell of school dinners.\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"In the Service of Mystery","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1033356-in-the-service-of-mystery-pt-6.json","next":"https://sofurry.com/s/rnaEVNZn"}}