Cecil raises his hands in supplication. "Let us pray. O gracious and everliving God, You have created us male and female in Your image: Look mercifully upon this man and this woman who come to You seeking Your blessing, and assist them with Your grace, that with true fidelity and steadfast love they may honor and keep the promises and vows they make.

"Give them wisdom and devotion in the ordering of their common life, that each may be to the other a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow, and a companion in joy. Grant that their wills may be so knit together in Your will, and their spirits in Your Spirit, that they may grow in love and peace with You and one another all the days of their life. Give them grace, when they hurt one another, to recognize and acknowledge their fault, and to seek out each other's forgiveness and Your own.

"Make their life together a sign of Christ's love to this sinful and broken world, that unity may overcome estrangement, forgiveness heal guilt, and joy conquer despair. Bestow on them, if it is Your will, the gift and heritage of children, and the grace to bring them up to know You, love You, and serve You. Give them such fulfillment of their mutual affection that they may reach out in love and concern for others.

"Through Jesus Christ our Savior, who lives and reigns with You in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen."

The general murmur of 'Amen' makes a roll like distant thunder about the church. There's a mixed solemnity and joy among the people, and Janet is fairly radiant, even with this rushed ushering into the major phase of her life. The groom grits his teeth on nerves, standing tense and straight though glancing at the bride from time to time, clearly wishing no more than to hold her. Noting the pause occasioned by the lack of his chosen reader and aware of the deepening night, he dips his head to softly clear his throat and accepts Janet's hand as her father looses his hold.

"In the...name of God, I, Nathan Fox, take you, Janet Criddle, to be my wife," Master Fox manages, the words smoothing as he looks into Janet's eyes, forgetting, for a moment, that anyone else exists: "-to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness or in health...to love and to cherish until death should part us. This is my solemn vow."

He kisses her fingers and lets them go. Janet takes a deep breath, reaches out and re-takes his hand of her own will. Her promise is spoken more steadily and with more confidence, having the example to follow, though there's no less intensity of emotion in her voice:

"In the name of God, I, Janet Criddle, take you, Nathan Fox, for to be my husband: to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish until death should part us. This is my solemn vow."


The congregation keeps a rapt silence, and even those with a notion that the bride had been yet a child for her age and gentle upbringing can tell that she is as much a part of this joint will as the young man beside her. There is the determination to pledge herself throughout the long uncertainties of a life burning beneath her gentle blushes, and she keeps hold of Nathan's hand until the Vicar's glances motion to a blessing of the ring.

Cecil produces the rings given him earlier, making the sign of the Cross over them in benediction. "Bless, O Lord, these rings, to be a sign of the vows by which this man and this woman have bound themselves to each other; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." He extends the rings to bride and groom and awaits their respective pledges.

[[alright, I can roll with that, sounds like Mrs. Criddle was doing a bit more Plotting than I thought, even. Do note that it'll be a century before formal marriage markers for men become commonplace, but I've made pledge rings/their precursor a plot point before now, so I can't complain. Nathan will have to give his mother-in-law a horse or something to make up.]]


The provision of a ring for him clearly takes the groom by surprise: the Vicar sees the quick look darted at Mrs. Criddle, who might as well be made of marble. Another brief glance goes to Janet, who returns a look of helpless glee, transparently innocent of any foreknowledge of this, and composes her face so as to be sure of not breaking into giggles.

Master Fox goes from startlement to pale, heart-aching gratitude to acceptance in a few moments, straightening his shoulders and claiming his mother's ring to set on the finger of his bride that carries blood swiftest to the heart. His voice shakes just a little with emotion. "Janet, my heart, I here give this ring as a symbol of my vow, with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you, in...in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."

Janet mouths a little 'amen' only visible to the priest and does her best to copy vows she hasn't learnt, taking his hand in her deft fingers to set a diamond band upon it: "-and Nathan, I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow, with all that I am, all that I have, and I honor you, in the Name of the Father, the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." She smiles at him.

Cecil once more raises his hands in benediction. "Nathan and Janet have now given themselves to each other by solemn vows, the joining of hands, and the exchanging of rings. I hereby pronounce them husband and wife; in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 21:52, Sun 18 June 2023.

At that pronouncement, Nathan can contain himself no longer, but brushes his hand gently about his wife's cheek and asks her permission with a simple glance; she lets him kiss her and a great deal of tension goes from him. The Vicar catches the glitter of an escaped tear of sheer relief trailing down the groom's face, though once he has quenched the need to kiss her he kneels calmly enough beside her to pray.

Sam feels torn over the wedding and how quickly everything had happened. Of course he was happy for the newlyweds, but something still feels off to him - not just that all the men had shared the same dream, but that it had affected Master Fox as well.

He winces as he moves to get up from the pew, silently wondering what could have driven Jim to attack his master. As he leaves the church, he will ask which way the doctor went - while his ankle would (hopefully) recover after some time, it still wouldn't hurt to get it looked at.

Cecil addresses the entire congregation "Let us pray together in the words our Savior taught us.

"Our Father, who art in heaven,
    hallowed be Thy Name,
    Thy kingdom come,
    Thy will be done,
     on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
    as we forgive those
     who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
    but deliver us from evil.
For Thine is the kingdom,
    and the power, and the glory,
    forever and ever. Amen."

Having no servant with him for witness and no subtlety in attempting to leave, Sam finds himself firmly halted by those villagers nearer the door. Mr. Rickert, the Fox estate's head gamekeeper, even physically sets a hand on his chest, his dark eyes warning of the kind of suspicion Sam's courting.

"Stay," he instructs. "Hold your piss long enough to pray blessing on the couple."
The if you can is silent, but Sam catches it nonetheless.

The people pray. Some speak the words lightly and by rote, others with intensity and fervour, according to their faith and the sincerity of their witness. The Amen rumbles softly about the church.

---

At the altar, the bloodstained groom manages to rise with some little help from his bride and mother-in-law and addresses the Vicar: "Well, I think that was sufficiently witnessed," he remarks, a faint sheen of sweat on his brow. "I am somewhat keen to take myself and my Lady Fox home, and though I have no feast as yet I do have a fairly empty house: do you think all is well enough for me to take the inn guests and Mister Collins' family to sleep there, or should I but send down blankets and such to make your pews comfortable?"

"-I do not doubt my servants, but my chamber door is easier to lock than a dozen. At any rate, I will send breakfast, but what is your judgement, Vicar?" His hand seeks his wife's as he talks: Janet takes it and holds to it tightly, quite glowing.

Cecil skims the faces of his flock as he ponders Nathan's generous offer. "Honestly, I am not certain I fully comprehend the extent of what has happened tonight, not can I attest to the state of things without more information. Fox Hall will, undoubtedly, prove a worldly respite for those seeking to put this night behind them, but true comfort is found only in the Lord. We would be most grateful for blankets to stave off the night's chill, however I'll not gainsay any who take you up on your offer. Thank you, Master Fox."

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 113):

Sam glances up to Mr. Rickert with a nod, praying and murmuring an "amen" quietly before he limps out of the church. While he doubted his injury was very bad, it still never hurt to get it checked out.

The gamekeeper lets him go, though Sam hears a concerned exclamation behind him that's probably Hester Collins: her brother Stephen catches up to him at a long lope before his eyes have even adjusted to the outside dark. "Hey! Where are you going?"

In reply to Reverend Palmer (msg # 114):

The impromptu wedding seems to have lifted spirits in general: most people look charmed by such a great event become homely and inclusive, or at most uncertain. The pale supressed-terror blankness of the beseiged seems to have faded from those worst affected. Arnold Swanton doesn't really seem to have got past the first deep drop of grief to be paying much heed, and Bart has one arm over his shoulder, holding him close and quiet, but otherwise the people seem to have generally reverted to talking among themselves, perhaps a half-share of the general attention towards the altar in case something else should happen there.

"Eminently sensible, as always," Master Fox says with a smile, and kisses his wife's hand and leaves her to hug and say what she will to her parents before her first night without them to go and address the people with his proposal.

Janet holds on to her father awhile, and with a slight nervousness hugs her mother: the latter sighs after a few moments and seems to drop the tension that's been high between them. In a short while, Lady Fox's husband beckons them down to the main throng of villagers, who seem to be gradually sorting themselves into groups according to destinations and the end of conversations.


John Collins approaches the Vicar, his youngest child held quite asleep against his shoulder: "We'll be staying here until morning," he says, deep concern still in his face when he glances at the Squire's party.

"Hold up," Mr. Rickert says whilst retrieving his new mistress' cloak across the aisle, then raises his voice to carry as far as his master: "-sir, the horse mask is gone."

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 116):

Sam glances over to the lad, offering a smile before he slowly straightens up, trying not to put much weight on his injured foot. "I was going to try to find the doctor. I want to get him to look at my foot after I injured it. Help me find him, would you?"

[[GM edit: word tweaked for sense.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:11, Tue 27 June 2023.

"Uh...I think it was Jim Stone he was seeing to, I heard they was both wounded, him an' the Squire. I'll get us a light and go with you for witness - just let me go tell my Dad first." Stephen hastens to do as he's said, leaving Sam just outside to contemplate the occasional dark shapes of night beasts moving about in the churchyard.

[[Sam, I'll move you over to the other thread when I know you've read this. Cecil, assume you see Stephen sneak up and give notice to his father that he's heading over to the village cell.]]

Sam nods to the lad. "That sounds like a plan. Let's go find him."

Stephen gets permission and reappears with an appropriated bedroom candle, offering his shoulder as they move off into the night.

[[Right, Sam is off-thread. Your move, Vicar.]]

Cecil nods to the Collins patriarch and gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You and yours are always welcome in our Father's house. Make yourselves comfortable." He chuckles, then breaks into a hearty laugh. "I would offer you use of the guest rooms in the vicarage, but at the moment we have the slightest of stag infestations, not to mention a certain warlock who is feeling very put out over the accommodations chosen for him."

The innkeep looks perplexed, gently setting a hand over his son's head at the laughter as though it were something that might bounce off. Behind him, nearer the door, the Squire has drawn into soft and concerned discussion with his gamekeeper.

"Stags? You've been troubled by more of the mazy beasts? Beth said something about it, but..." he trails off, frowning. "-and the warlock is the old Fox lad? Did he tell you anything about how and why he's out of the Wood - if he killed Mistress Durbin, or who did so for him?" John Collins sways just slightly to monitor the more bloodstained of the wedding party, sharp enough to have picked up that it's not the Fox devil's relative that their holy man has brought this up with.

Cecil lowers his voice in response. "The only person I can confirm Edmond murdered is poor Elsie Sawyer. He said very little save to threaten my life unless I helped him dispose of her body, but the Good Lord gave me strength to smite the devil where he stood." He notices then how many of his flock have departed. "The stag in question tried to batter its way into the vicarage when Edmond fell, crashing through a first storey window eventually after scrambling atop the privy. I can only imagine what a mess it's made of the room. The Widow Sexton and I locked it in, and it would be hard-pressed to break open the trunk in which we secured Edmond's... fragments."

The notion that a revenant fiend would seek to conceal his actions brings a frown to the innkeep's brow. "She sets value on him, then, at least...but if not for the wood-witch's purposes, why do murder? And if it's for his own sake, why seek to hide it? I admit, in all my years here I've thought little of the local tales, and suddenly here we are up to our necks in the midst of one."

He shakes his head. "Well, any of your flock will be pleased to put you up where they might. What will you do with this Edmond, especially when our Fox calls on a hunt for him? He might involve the King's men, who'll doubtless want to see this new body and bring in the coroner if they hear of it."

Cecil shakes his head, frowning "Edmond seems sufficiently perverse that he might commit murder purely for his own entertainment." He chuckles lowly. "Unless he's somehow escaped the iron bucket into which the Widow Sexton and I scooped the detritus of his person, there's no need to call a hunt." He raises his eyes to John's face. "I honestly haven't the foggiest how to deal with the stag, other than shooting the beast. I fear I'm not much of a hand with anything larger than a fowling piece, alas."

Thus brought to mind, it is hard to forget the perversity of the Wood-devil; Cecil has to force down all the recollections that come with the memory of that taste of blood playfully, eagerly shared with such wicked intent. John Collins presses his point: "Why then so few murders - not that I'm ungrateful - or the seeking to hide it? He can hardly be hanged for his crimes. There's some bargain on him, I think: that he holds off on acting as such a devil might act, for a while or on these people, and benefits by some greater favour."

He's quiet a moment, thinking. "Will you tell our Fox about this? I...should tell you," the inkeep's voice drops soft, the almost Irish Liverpool lilt making his words clear to a man of higher class even as it would blur them to a local: "Master Sexton told me he thought Stone would carry out his attack, and we sought to stop him...Jim didn't name the Young Squire, but claimed a man of importance had killed his friend in a fashion so clever that without he broke his vow to the dead, and told what the girl had sworn him to silence for seeing about the grounds, he should never be believed by the law."

The question of the stag occasions another pause. "If you can keep them penned and take up a bucket of stream water for the stag, I'd give it a day to see if Her influence might wane. Were it some normal beast caught in a house - amazed by a hunt, or sick - some men with doors could funnel it out without much risk of injury. Unless you thought to have the venison...I could probably roust up a handful of men game and foolish enough for your firing-squad, if you gave them a share."

Cecil admits his chief concern. "Edmond was dressed as if preparing to assume my place. Had I helped him hide poor Elsie's body, doubtless I'd have joined her in death. Perchance 'twas meant to regain access to the old standing stone, but why now? Why not a generation ago? Or two?" He gestures vaguely toward the sanctuary. "All I can think is that it doesn't reckon time as we do."

He regards Collins for an overlong moment before shaking his head. "I am not certain whether knowing this would help or hinder our young Squire. What kind of unholy wedlock might he have been bound into, had Edmond presided over a false wedding rite? Would poor Janet have been murdered in her marriage bed? Have both been saved from whatever dark fate might have been at work? I can only hope."

The innkeep is quiet awhile, taking in each troubling thought. At length he stirs, recalled to himself by some small movement of his son, and still slowly comes out with a reply, his words trailing off into uneasy musing: "...yes, Lady Fox must be protected at all costs. Though I wonder if that's what got us here."