Max and Kessa were fighting in the yard. They had been fighting for hours and quite the crowd had gathered to watch them. Neither of them spoke as they fought. No battle noises. All you heard was the thunk of wood on wood. When the swords came out, the clink of metal on metal.
Kol stepped beside Frego, “how long have they been doing this?”
“It’s been awhile.” He sighed. “I’m waiting for one of them to get hurt.”
As they watched, Kessa would change hands. “I didn’t know she was ambidextrous.”
“She’s favoring her right arm.”
“How about her hip?”
“Max hasn’t tried to use that yet. I think he’s saving it for later?”
“Do we need to put an end to this?”
Frego gave his dad a look, “I’m not.” He turned his head back toward the fight. “Did you two get into it last night?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Watch her. She’s angry. I am going to say something to her about that. Especially since she made it a point to remind me to control my emotions.”
Frego was right. The longer Kol watched her the more he knew she was upset. He left Frego’s side.
Kol was getting ready to walk out onto the field. Marcus stopped him, “ that’s not a good idea, sire.”
Kol’s voice was flat. “I understand.” He motioned and two white flags on either side of the field started waving. Max and Kessa stopped fighting.
He walked out as a hush fell over the soldiers gathered to watch. “Max you are relieved.”
All Max could do was give Kol a blank stare. Deep down he was grateful. Tired, hot, covered with sweat and sand. He finally said, “hurt or not; your in for a fight.”
Kessa was never one for show. No showing off her moves. No loud noises. No taunts or teasing about her adversaries inabilities. She just waited. Waited for Kol to make the first move. And he did.
Max was beside Frego. “Forgive me my prince, does he know what he’s doing?”
Max felt movement beside him. Lilly asked, “how long can they do this?”
“All day.” Frego sighed.
“Who taught you?” Lilly asked Max.
“She did.”
“Who taught him?” She pointed at Kol.
“She did.” He and Frego answered at the same time.
“Because neither has quit, does that mean they are evenly matched?”
“For the most part.” Max answered.
“Remind me not to make her mad.” Lilly sighed.
“Max,” Frego leaned in to whisper. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
“Let’s end this.” He pleaded.
“Okay.”
At that moment, Kessa threw down her weapons and walked away. The crowd started to break up.
“What does this mean?” Lilly asked. Kol lowered his weapons and followed her.
Frego answered, “now it’s private.”
Max made a motion with his hand and the group of soldiers scattered.
“Let’s get out of the sun for awhile?” Frego smiled.
Max was gone.
They turned to leave, “I will never understand this.”
Kessa’s house on the mountain became their getaway. Anytime either of them needed a break, that was their retreat.
Petro came running up to Kessa. He was red faced and out of breath, “come, come” he pointed at the stables.
She followed him finding Kol asleep on the hay. Chico was curled up by his side and Molly (Kessa’s horse) had her head laying very close to Kol’s head. Kessa’s smile stretched from ear to ear. This was a sweet sight. She whispered in Petro’s ear as he took off again. He brought a blanket from the house and a couple other items she had asked for and left again. Kessa covered Kol and Chico up with the blanket. She sat opposite him leaning up against one of the stable beams, drawing this scene.
Kol hadn’t fully recovered from his years of fighting with God. He didn’t share her idea that he was truly having a disagreement with God. His view was that he was fighting demons. The positive side of this was that he wasn’t having nightmares anymore. And of course, their marriage. But there was something else he was struggling with. She didn’t push him to share. He would tell her when God told him he was ready to let go of his burdens.
With each line she drew, her thoughts of what he went through, events both heartbreaking and joyous. Joyous because not only where they married but he reunited with God. He made his peace with God or his demons.
Her fight with God had left her with a stiff hip. If he didn’t wake up in time to help her get up, she would have to either roll to her feet or pray Petro came back to help her up. And sometimes if she stood too long or sat too long for that matter, right down the middle of her leg, from her hip to her knee, it felt like a trail of ants was marching to their nest.
After she put the finishing touches on Molly’s head, she looked up to see that he was watching her smiling. “Hello my wife.”
“Husband.”
He got up bringing the blanket with him to where she was sitting. “What are you doing?” She showed him the drawing. “Is that what I look like?”
“More or less.” She teased, “we have mirrors.”
He put his arm around her waist before kissing her. “You are amazing.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
“I never had a picture of me commissioned. The palace is full of family portraits. I don’t think that is an expense the city needs. That money can be put to other uses. Like our water plans.” He picked at his fingers for a minute. “Do you mind if we talk about General Marcus?” She hung her head. “No matter what you decide to do, you know I will support you.”
“I do know that.” She forced a smile.
“What is God telling you?”
A broken laugh escaped her as she stretched out over her legs, leaned back up and sighed. “I am terrified. Are you aware just how massive your army is? Not only does Marcus command your ground army; Captain Rede answers to him.”
“Marcus has always deferred to you when we are in the field.” He reminded her sweetly.
“These are small groups under 50. Not thousands.”
“The soldiers respect you.” He moved to caress her back as they talked.
“Are you comfortable with this?” She locked eyes with him.
He still wasn’t able to hold her gaze long. “As your husband, it would be a lie if I didn’t say it concerns me. But I know you. I know your faith in God is strong. You do nothing without his direction.”
“What are your concerns?” He wasn’t quick to respond. “This is a decision that affects both of us.”
“As the Bejhar commander, you have always been behind me. I have always known that you have my back no matter what.” He thought for a moment. “This has nothing to do with your skills or abilities; you will be beside me. You will,” He trailed off. She moved to lay her head in his lap as he continued rubbing her back. “You will always be a target to get to me. I’m not making sense. My words are getting lost.” He took a moment to collect his thoughts. “I’m scared as well. Marcus is usually beside me on the front line when we were in battle. Being my wife as well as my general increases the size of your target.
“Changing the line-up doesn’t change the importance of the position. It makes no one a coward if your general leads the second charge and say Max was beside you on the front line.” She rolled over, he rested his hand on her stomach. “Or if your general led the first and you led the second.”
“We have the most romantic conversations.” He lay back in the hay guiding her to him.
I love weather. If I could go back in time, I’d become a meteorologist. Alas, I digress.
To give you a little prospective, I live 2.5 miles from town and a 5 minute walk from a double set of train tracks. Everyone says a tornado sounds like a train. Is it a tornado or a train? 🤔 I’m pretty much doomed if a tornado does strike my neighborhood.
Sometimes the trains travel so fast, they can vibrate my bed. Not like one of those jiggle you for a quarter hotel beds. But enough for you to notice. There have been several nights that this has happened. I wake up, listen, say ‘it’s a train’ and fall right back to sleep.
King Kong was on t.v. There is all kinds of noise in this movie. But above the noise from the movie, there is a whistling sound. It was steady. It reminded me of air escaping from a tire. After a few minutes of the movie, I realize this sound is not part of the action.
After pausing the movie, that noise still remained. Not too loud. Just enough to know something isn’t right. I have no clue what this sound could be. It’s time for – investigation mode.
I’ve never been a big ‘Henny Penny the sky’s falling’ type person. It would be amazing to have a breakfast room and just watch the weather.
Outside, there was a storm coming. Dark clouds, wind. No rain at this point and that sound. No train on the tracks. Still that sound.
Then it hits me like a limb fall from a tree. It’s our towns air raid sirens.
A tornado didn’t hit us that day. Praise God.
Sadly, I’ve never been prepared for a massive weather event.
A few mornings later I came down stairs to find Holmes in his dressing gown. The room filled with smoke. I coughed as I crossed the room to open a window. “Holmes, this atmosphere is positively toxic.” He continued to exhale clouds of smoke. “I am sure the fire services will be here presently.”
“What are your plans for the next couple of days?”
“Nothing pressing.”
“Will you accompany me to Wales? I have cabled Mr. Parker for permission to look around?”
“Do you think he will grant it?”
“He will. I am not so convinced about the son-in-law.”
“Are you sure you are up to this?”
It took a long time for Holmes to answer me, “no.”
The next day, having heard from Mr. Parker, we headed out for Wiltshire in Wales. I think I was more nervous than Holmes. I was all too aware of what we found at Sussex; I hoped no such tragedy befell us here. I could stand the silence no longer. “Holmes,” I asked, “how are we to stand in Wales?”
Holmes grunted. I had turned my attention to the rolling country side by the time he answered.
“The Wales and Berwick Act of 1746 states that all laws that apply to England would automatically apply to Wales. There are some exceptions; however, for our purposes all things are equal.”
“Do you speak Cymry?”
Holmes let out a deep sigh, “a little. It always eluded me.”
To my surprise, when we boarded a trap for Wiltshire we were joined by Inspector’s Lestrade and Hopkins. “Sorry we were unable to join you sooner Mr. Holmes.”
“We have a lovely invitation from the owners to spend as much time as we need.” Holmes reported, handing Hopkins the telegram.
“What do you think we will find?” Hopkins asked.
“Who knows?” Holmes remarked dryly.
Lestrade and I started a conversation. It is so tiresome for me to travel in silence. As we approached Wiltshire, the landscape became deeply desolate. I was grasped by an overwhelming since of loneliness. So much so that I pulled the collar of my great coat closer to my chin.
Wiltshire was a massive estate; gray brick and old. There was charming vegetation growing around the property; it only seemed to add to the despair around the place. We were met at the door by a horrible little man. His behavior was forced pleasant. He wanted us there about as much as we wanted to be there. We each took a direction in the house though my direction was generally toward Holmes.
“Take good notes,” Holmes encouraged me.
“Of course.” We stopped finally in a bedroom. It was pleasant enough. The first time since we had started this trip that I felt at ease. However, that feeling was short lived.
Holmes got down on his knees with his glass and studied every inch of the floor in this room. He crawled out the door to the great stair case in front of the house. Where; the horrible little man was waiting by the door to let us out, with a dog waiting as impatiently as his master, by his side. Lestrade and Hopkins were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Holmes sat on the top step for a time. Long enough for a curious cat to jump on the railing to watch him.
“My congratulations to your housekeeper; she is no doubt first rate.” Holmes spoke, seemingly into the air.
The little man looked wounded. “I do all the housekeeping sir.”
“Indeed.” Holmes scoffed as he began his descent down the stairs backwards on his knees. He stopped midway down taking a white handkerchief from his pocket then wiping it on the underside of a step. It had a little dirty smudge on it. Holmes gave it to me then I to Hopkins. I noticed the cat followed us down the stairs.
Once outside we went around the back of the house to the stable. Holmes sat in the middle of one of the cleanest stables I had ever seen in my life. It was obvious to me that no animal had been in it in a very long time, if ever. The cat followed us. Holmes got as close to the floor of the stable as he could without laying on it. He examined the floor and the beams overhead.
“Tell me sir,” he asked of the strange little man. “What animal was housed in here?”
“I was told a horse sir.”
“You never saw it?”
“No sir.”
“How long have you worked for Mr. Parker?”
“I work for Mr. Merryweather sir. ‘Bout five years sir.”
Lestrade slowly walked in, “what have you found?” Inspector Lestrade is a good person but there are times he can be haughty.
Today was one of those events. I was never quite sure why Inspector Hopkins brought him.
Lestrade held his nose, “there is a strange odor here.”
Hopkins replied, “Indeed; though, what it is I do not know.”
“Look here.” Holmes pulled our attention to the cross beam over the spot where he investigated the floor.
We all had a good look at the beam. It had wear on it; most prominent around the top sides.
“What do you make of it?” Hopkins asked.
“It is never good to speculate.” Holmes took a piece of paper from his pocket and glided it through the cracks in the floor under the marks on the beam; he produced a small dark smear on the paper. “Was this building ever used as a meat house?”
“Not to my knowledge.” The horrible little man was never too far away, glaring at us.
We walked from the stable across the small meadow in the back of the estate, up an embankment, I thought toward the sea. With each step we took the sound of waves crashing against rocks became louder. Instead we came to a little flat spot where an old cabin sat. This was the little cabin that she had mentioned in her journal. I stood on the porch and looked back toward Wiltshire, I could not perceive in my mind how a horse could have pulled her here without doing her injury. This is the cabin.
Holmes was standing beside me. His voice was the faintest whisper when he spoke. “You make the mistake of thinking she was drug.”
“I take it by your tone you think that assumption is wrong.”
“We must work on that.”
“Alright Holmes,” called Inspector Hopkins. “What have you seen that we overlooked?”
“Comparing notes,” Lestrade asked?
“It is in the best interest of our victim.” Hopkins answered.
We all sat on the porch. The horrible little man stayed behind at the manor house. “Let us start with the estate as a whole.” Holmes started.
“Something is wrong with the picture. I am unable to ascertain what.” I spoke. “We see a house that has been taken care of though I feel is has been lacking attention.”
“I think,” Hopkins pointed a finger toward the estate, “all of those plants are new. How long did it take to get an answer back from the land owner for us to come out and look?”
“Five days.” Holmes answered.
“No, it would have taken an army of people to clean this place up, if indeed it was rundown, in five days.”
“One must define the army?” I stated.
Lestrade snickered, “did not the gentleman say he was the house keeper?”
“You assume lying is beneath people?” Holmes remarked.
Hopkins got up. “I want to run under the assumption that everything here is new. The flowers. The house has been freshly cleaned.”
“I think you are incorrect.” Lestrade countered.
“Splendid,” Holmes laughed; “on to the inside.”
Hopkins stated, “I think no one has lived in the manor house for a long time. It does not feel lived in.”
Lestrade and Hopkins started to bicker about structures with feelings. I am unsure how long the bantering went back and forth. Finally Hopkins screamed, “what is your take on it Mr. Holmes?” Holmes set silent.
“Mr. Holmes?”
“Holmes,” I called to him.
“Someone was killed in that house. Either by self-defense or murder, I am unsure. There is a coat of arms in the front parlor over the fireplace; one sword is protruding farther than the other; telling me that it has been removed then replaced. Several places throughout the house, one on the stair railing, one on the left bedroom door frame, I counted five more, there are deep indentations in the woodwork. Those indentations were made with brute force. A mirror in that same bedroom with the markings on the door frame was broken. I found glass fragments in the floor.” He pulled them from his pocket. “I think the blood on the stairs was the result of someone being pulled down the stairs either in a rug or a sheet.”
“More theories from the theorist,” Lestrade scolded. “What did the other person fight with if only one sword was removed?”
I snapped my fingers, “poker. Our set of fireplace tools has three pieces. The one in the front parlor only had two.”
“Good Watson, good,” Holmes remarked.
“What about the stables?” Hopkins asked. “I can hardly see any animal ever being in there. It was much too clean.”
“The cat and the dog,” Lestrade laughed.
Holmes got up and walked around the little cabin. I jumped to my feet when I heard him retch. When he reappeared he was as white as a ghost. “I fear someone was tortured there.” He walked away from us toward the manor house leaving the three of us to look at each other horrified.
The Stables
We followed him back to the stables. Our vile little man was waiting by the door. The good inspectors went back inside the stables. Holmes said something to the little man, but I know not what.
Holmes sat on the floor with his eyes closed. I noticed that he sat not directly under the marks on the rafters. The little man brought him a length of rope, a lantern, and a bar. He just stood in the door. Holmes bolted past him. I found Holmes behind the stable. He was squatting with his head in his hands.
“Holmes, are you alright?” I squatted next to him.
He took a deep breath. “No.”
“What is the matter ole chap?”
He clasped his hands together, “I am unable to do it Watson. I am unable to remove the boards from the floor.” He looked as if he was going to be sick again.
“What is under there Holmes?” I put my hand on his shoulder to discover he was shaking like a leaf. “Holmes?”
He stood calming himself. We both went back inside. With little effort, he used the bar to pry the boards from the floor. In total, he removed six. We were hit with a stronger version of that stench no one could define. There before us on the ground was a hole. As we got closer to the hole, the smell got stronger. Holmes hooked the lantern to one end of the rope and lowered it into the hole. I rushed outside to clear my nose and head. I heard someone heave. Soon I was joined by Hopkins. After several breaths of fresh air, we both returned to the hole. Holmes’ never said a word.
Inspector Hopkins leaned over looking down, “one of us needs to go down there?” Lestrade raised an eyebrow. Hopkins took a deep breath, “I guess it will be me.” He took off his great coat and hat, handing them to Lestrade. “Watson, will you dictate for me?”
I almost said nothing. “Of course,” finally came out. Holmes wrapped the other end of the rope around the support beam using himself as the anchor.
Inspector Lestrade hissed, “will you look at that. The rope fits quite nicely in the groove.”
This, I noted. As Holmes lowered Hopkins into the hole, he started talking: “one side of hole is covered with vertical indentations. They are short in length and deep. Some have a faint hint of color. The concentration is in front of me. There are none behind me.” There was a pause. “STOP!” He shouted. There was great movement on the rope. “Lower the rope some more please.” Holmes did. “Stop,” another pause. “Someone drop a pebble down here, nothing larger.” Lestrade went outside, returning with the asked for pebble. We heard a small plunk followed by a heave. “Dear God!” Another heave followed by a gag. “There is a pool of something down here.”
“Watson, lower him the longest board to see if we can measure the depth.” Holmes instructed in a whisper.
Before I did, I held the board up to myself. It came to my chest. I lowered the board, repeating the instructions to Hopkins.
“Watson, I would estimate this hole is five feet wide.” More silence. “I can just see the top of the board.” There was movement on the rope. “Watson there is a little flat dug out in the wall, maybe a foot wide.” More movement on the rope, “opposite this there are two smaller indentions below the short vertical ones maybe six inches wide and two feet apart. Holmes what do you think they are?”
Holmes did not answer. He was staring at the floor. I was beginning to think that he was ignoring Hopkins. I looked at Lestrade and he at me. Holmes closed his eyes and shook his head. “The largest of the three is for your behind. The two forward are for your feet. That would suggest this hole is not five feet wide.”
I know the expression on my face was one of horror. For I saw it in Lestrade’s eyes as well.
“I hate to say this Holmes. I think you might be right. I’m ready to come up now.” Holmes started to pull him up. “Stop!” He called again. “Watson, write down A R A. I wonder what that means.”
I heard a thud. Upon turning, I discovered Holmes on his knees, rope in hand. Lestrade threw down the contents of his hands and took the rope from Holmes. He pulled Hopkins from the pit.
“Air, sweet air.” He took many deep breaths.
Holmes was in an almost catatonic state. We led him everywhere we needed to go.
Poetry & More 