---

Front Lawn of Fox Hall, 5am Monday May 6th, 1771


They had gathered before morning, a knot of shadows in  the murky dampness that a thin May mist made of the blue hours. Scarce able to sleep since an hour before, Doctor Lovelace had resigned himself to rise and taken a brief breakfast of still-warm bread and honey. His dreams had left little remnants in his mind save an impression of darkness and branching filaments, their size unknown and presence a nonsense to his rationality. Polzeath, who had insisted on sleeping at his door, had seen nothing in the night.

Maggie has been present for a while, visiting first to her brother - who reports, softly, that he'd not had opportunity to speak with Jim alone overnight, though he wound up sleeping on the steps of the little gaol - and then close to the Doctor and Polzeath as a shadow draws close to an object with the rising of the light. The Doctor's man looks considerably calmer in the cool of morning, standing without the least indication of discomfort at the damp.

With a spry step Nathan Fox crosses the lawn, his figure and that of the Babcock brother with the pistol-case focusing out of shapeless shadow. A coat of gorgeous deep green carelessly thrown over no more than his shirt sits on his upper half, though his brown breeches, solid shoes and stockings are neat enough. "We've loaded in the house: if you would let Mister Millard know, you can check the pistols over together. Janet's not coming to watch - I asked her to go back to sleep, and..." he glances across the field of honour at his opponent, then back to the Doctor, brisk geniality dropping to something more sober.

"...well, told her I'd be back to help lace the stays of the dress we had adjusted for her overnight. I...should hate to miss that." The aching tenderness in his voice suggests the act of learning to dress his particular wife for the first time may take longer than the equally intimate operation of undressing her the night before, though not for want of close attention.

"Is he fit?" he asks, nodding at Jim Stone. The youth stands at a slope, hands unbound and staring over at his master with a dull weariness that speaks less of hatred than of determination.

It's not clear if Jim has slept, though he hasn't tried to run or do anything else with the headstart. Seeing that he's watched, the young gardener almost mechanically shucks coat and waistcoat simply onto the ground to stand, shivering, seemingly ready to get on with it.

Near him, Andrew stands close by to Sam Hartman and the scatter of other spectators, aware of the cold of the morning and the lack of enthusiasm from those birds trying to raise the day. Currents of excitement and dread roil through those present. Sam looks for some opening to approach the Squire, keen to tell him what he suspects about someone driving Jim to fury and rash action against his betters. Jim stands and shudders intermittently, his gaze fixed.

Robin opens the Bible at random as Miles steps hurriedly to approach the pistol-case. He sets his finger down without looking, then frowns when he does look, sidling closer to Andrew to show his master the text he's landed on in Job: "...should I read this one, sir?" he asks softly.



This message was last edited by the GM at 23:56, Tue 12 Dec 2023.

"I tended his wounds last night after the vows were spoken. There was a pustulence threatening to set in so it may need draining later, but he is fit enough to hold a pistol and quite insistent on doing so" Doctor Lovelace responds.

Sam glances at the Doctor and then to Jim, and lastly focusing on Master Fox. The fatigue of the last night had weighed heavy upon him, and he had barely gotten any sleep given what he had heard. At least his ankle didn't hurt any more.

"Master Fox, could I speak with you for a moment before the duel?"

Andrew shakes his head. Taking the Bible from his apprentice, he turns to Matthew’s Gospel. Returning the book to Robin, he taps his finger beside a verse from the Sermon on the Mount.

”Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.”

The Squire nods with a sigh to the Doctor and motions for him to join the other second at the pistol case, saying only "...if the pair of you deem one somehow the worse, call it mine: let it never be said Stone did not have his chance fair as we might give it."

"Make it quick, Master Hartman," he says on turning to Sam, somewhat tense with preparing himself to be shot at.

Sam nods to the Squire. "I joined the Doctor and Andrew, to get my ankle looked at when I was helping John Collins' kids earlier. Although I didn't catch the whole conversation between them, I heard John Ragge say that someone had likely manipulated Jim into this. I would likely see if he would speak about it before you duel - you could also speak to Andrew Sexton about it," he says softly.

[[GM edit: J names]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:01, Sun 30 July 2023.

Andrew approaches at the sound of his name. ”I will share what I know, Squire, if you wish to hear it.” he offers quietly.

Doctor Lovelace moves to inspect the pair of dueling pistols, casting over them with the eye of someone who has served as an officer at his Majesty's pleasure.

Nathan Fox studies the carpenter some moments, the dull predawn light scarcely picking out some rosewood hue in his eyes. He still smells like jasmine and agarwood, though a little of cotton and something else - something from his wife's clothes, perhaps, or her skin. At length he looks away to see how the Doctor's getting on, tugging at a coatsleeve in preparation for removing the garment.

"...later. Rest assured that if your information proves good and I need to pin down some gossip for slander I will see you two rewarded for leading me to that party. Presently, my quarrel is with the fellow that tried to hack me in pieces on the main road."

He reaches and pats Sam on the shoulder, then moves towards the seconds and the pistol-case. The mist dampens all sound around them, so that the surrounding trees' movement only textures the silence and anyone stirring in the village might as well be miles away.

---

Checking over the pistols, Martin finds them both sound, loaded with expertise, and as perfect a pair as manufacture might make. He does have to stop Miles squinting nervously down the barrel of one given his dangerous grip on the thing, however, and recieves a mumbled apology. Robin Yendale's voice just carries though the hush, seeming sourceless though the lad is clearly there with the Bible, lagging a little on his letters:


"Ble-ssed are the mer-ci-ful, for they shall obt-ain mercy."


"I've not done this before, sir, I'm sorry," Miles says, clearly trying not to shiver. "I can't see aught wrong with 'em, but maybe you could choose first? I knows we have t'be quick in this damp."

"I've got string for ye both to go five paces, holding the ends - we're to double it and put the halfway on the marker," the Babcock brother who'd brought the case says, evidently well-drilled. "I'm Percy," he adds, in case either was unsure. A blackbird's sudden scolding out in the thickets rises and fades out beyond him. Jim stands like his namesake, waiting, cold.

The doctor smiles sympathetically "It is not something I've really done much of before. The pistols though, they look a fine pair and either will do the job they have been prepared for."

He picks one and offers "Just take the other to Jim, hand it to him and your job is done." and he walks to the Squire to do just that.

Having provoked a scolding from the blackbird, Maggie parts the undergrowth and tramps through the ferns and mist. She pauses to get her bearings and makes for Robin.

"I heard your reading, Robin," she smiles at her brother in approbation, "It sounded fine."

Then she looks to where Miles is passing a pistol into Jim Stone's hands. She glances to see Doctor doing the same with Nathan Fox. She pales a bit and frowns, her expression showing that she thinks this an evil doing. She hefts the game bag on her shoulder, putting her hands on her hips.

Jim feels the weight of the pistol in his hand, only his motions of grip and heft showing he's surprised at the weight in comparison to any honest tool that has sat there before. Understanding the principles of firing and not much understanding the intricacies of duelling etiquette, his hand raises even as his dull, determined gaze seeks and finds Fox, and squints an aim at his heart. The Squire notices the instant before the trigger is pulled, throwing a look of real alarm towards the Doctor in fear he's not yet far enough away. The grey morning between them seems to hang still, an indrawn breath, as flint strikes to frizzen.

Nothing happens. Jim frowns at the reluctance of his weapon to deliver vengeance, Nathan breathes out.

 "Hold," Fox calls across the field, making sure his second is out of range. "Give it twenty seconds and put it down, we'll reload it." He wraps a clean handkerchief about the firing-pan and frizzen of his own weapon whilst his opponent waits out the grace for an invisible hang fire, aimed at all the while. At length Jim reluctantly lowers his pistol to the grass.

"..."

Fox tucks his pistol into his coat pocket, remarking to Martin "Uncouth creature, that lad. Could you see to it that they can manage the reload? Percy brought out a lantern that can keep the air warm whilst pouring out, and I can vouch for the powder in the case. Wretched mist!"


[[Jim managed to roll a 100, but these are very decent pistols and flintlocks are finicky at the best of times.]]

Maggie lets out her breath, pent since Jim sighted at the Squire prematurely.

"Robin," she says quietly to her brother beside her, "Go and tell Martin to make sure Jim understands that he must await th' command afore he pulls th' trigger.  Oh! an' tell 'im t' line up th' barrel's length on th-- on his target. Doctor c'n help with th' details. Quick now!"

She'd go herself but if by a miracle Fox is wounded in the exchange, she wants no further cry of witchcraft against her. Even being on the ground is risk enough.

While Jim's pistol is re-primed and rules explained, she looks keenly about the trees and shrubs that surround the open space, peering through the mist for any threat, her shawl up over her head against the damp.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:46, Fri 04 Aug 2023.

"-but...!" Robin begins an objection, but heeds the call to hurry, even if he visits an even more nervous Miles Millard and takes several moments in conference with Jim before trotting over to the Doctor. He haunts Martin's elbow awhile before passing on that "Maggie thinks it's you that ought to say the specifics out to Jim, sir, on what 'e needs to do, like. I made him understand as he don't ought to be holding the gun so as it might fire whilst there's seconds on the field, nor without someone says so."

The mist seems to be mist, the trees, trees. It takes Maggie a second or so, but some uncertain moving shapes in the mid-distance turn out to be the tiny flock of lawn sheep dispersing themselves for the day, the ewes still going in twos and threes before the sun might rise and keeping their lambs close. Like dusk, the blue hours of the morn were a time for foxes, their silent trotting tread and sudden lunging from the shadows, lined with teeth.

The man called Fox waits out the delay, thoughts seemingly elsewhere. The other Babcock twin joins them and receives an update from his brother, bent close like one man seen double.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:06, Thu 03 Aug 2023.

The Doctor nods to Robin and given his observations of Miles decides that the finer points of dueling would be lost so best not try to explain them.

He approaches Jim and Miles who no doubt is ahead of him and takes the pistol carefully to oversee the cleaning and re-loading himself. As he does so he speaks "Jim. You have to be sure to wait until it is only you and the Squire in the dueling area."

"When I've finished charging your pistol, Miles and I will walk away and wait until I say 'clear' before you go ahead."

"Now if you can manage to hold the pistol steady with one hand I recommend you stand more side on, that way you are a smaller target."

"And don't forget to look straight along the barrel at your target."

He removes his kerchief, placing it over the now ready pistol "It's the mist, it's dampening the powder in the pan. Keep the kerchief over it until I call clear."

Then he nods to Miles and moves away to the side calling out once they are at a safe distance "Clear!"

At Doctor's cry of "Clear!" Maggie returns her gaze to the duelists, clutching her hands beneath the shawl in anticipation. She dreads seeing Jim Stone fall.

She had thought last night of concealing herself in the trees and mist with her fowling piece to drop Nathan Fox before he could shoot Jim. But now she realizes she wishes no harm to either man. She just wants this meeting to end somehow bloodlessly.

Then, they can turn their attention again to the real threat of the Fox revenant walking abroad and the Wyzenwood. If indeed the Lady and the Wood are behind Polly's death and the other events of the past days.

She whispers a prayer --or charm, if there's a difference-- for the safety of all upon the field.

The mist swallows the shout down to silence, even Time seeming muffled, slow. Jim unwraps his pistol, stands straight as instructed, presenting himself side-on with the firearm an extension of his outstretched arm. He takes a moment to sight along the metal, forcing himself to stillness, a pricking of mist or fevered sweat on his brow but otherwise every inch a determined young man. Fox draws and casts his coat aside in one movement, weapon in hand, fingertips tucked under the cloth.

Jim fires, startles - just slightly - at the roar and fiery spring of the pistol become like a live thing in his hands, and sends his shot thrumming well over Nathan's head towards the distant trees. The mist takes the echoes as the lawn sheep bleat and flee and the smoke roils white to grey to gone.

Fox, who has not flinched a hair through any of this, has uncovered his gun and raises it with perfect form. With a controlled and graceful movement, he puts his shot {{PAM}} into the lawn off to his left, then casts the pistol onto his coat and sets to gathering up both together. Jim sinks to his knees.

Nathan Fox walks up to his opponent down the length of the space they'd drawn out for the specific purpose of trying to kill each other, hesitates in the face of the futility of the gesture, and offers his hand anyway. Jim makes no sign of being aware he's there, as though someone had propped a corpse on the lawn for a joke, the dew soaking his breeches at the knees. Fox leans a little closer as if to make sure he does breathe, and Stone looks up, no tears and nothing to read in his face.

"You done it, sir," he says, nothing more in his voice. His master gives him a long look, though Jim will not look to him again, and drops his hand, stoops for the other pistol, and turns to get them put away.



[[13:05, Today: James Stone rolled 82 using 1d100. Take II.

13:30, Today: The Keeper, on behalf of Nathan Fox, rolled 33 using 1d100.  malfunction check. Could've nailed him had he had any intention to.]]

It was only when Nathan Fox fired into the lawn that Andrew realized that he had been holding his breath. He released it, lightheadedness briefly gripping him. In the relative quiet that followed, he watched the exchange between Jim and the Squire, the weight of a terrible sadness falling upon him, the knowledge that, even if justice was ultimately found for Mistress Durbin, there were wounds, such as this one, which would never heal. They would only linger and fester. Those who called Scorch Norton home would bear the scars of this time to their graves.

The Doctor moves to Jim as the Squire moves away "Right lad, let's get you back inside and see to that wound, see if it has calmed enough to stitch yet."

He helps him up to his feet and in a quiet voice says "Well, it seems that God judges that the Squire is to live. I hope that will be an end to this, if not for the sake of your body, then for the sake of your eternal soul!"

He looks about "Can someone take the lad home? I shall attend shortly, I just would like a quick word with the Squire" and he moves to have a word alone with the man as he makes for the house to attend dressing his new wife.


GM edit: formatting fix
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:37, Wed 09 Aug 2023.

Jim seems fairly numb to the world, letting himself be hauled up but just standing like a thing wound down until his brother-in-law comes to put a warm arm around him and steer him away. His sister picks up clothing in his wake. John Ragge seeks after the pistol shot in the grass, then gets his knife out to prise it free as souvenir. The birds about the garden, though made slow and groggy by the damp, start making more concerted efforts to shout up the sun.

"There's food in the house, for anyone that wishes," Fox addresses the remaining spectators, and leaves the Babcock twins to setting away the guns as he heads up there. It's easy enough for Martin to catch him within a few paces and receive a querying look. "?"

"May I go along with Jim, sir, or do you think he wants left alone?" Robin asks, looking up at his master with the shop Bible held close to his chest.

The Doctor waits till Robin is answered and has left earshot

Andrew nods. ”If he is willing to have your company, you should stay with him for a time,” he tells Robin, ”If not, come and find me at the Fox Estate.”

"I'll ask after you in the Hall, sir," Robin agrees, not knowing in which part of the estate his master's business might lie. He jogs off, then stops, hesitates, and calls back, aware he's probably doing something amiss in the social sense but unable to hold back: "Mind not to go about alone, sir, an' I won't," he dares, and runs off to catch up with Stone's party.

---

Whatever the Doctor has said to Fox below the steps up to the garden terrace, it has caused the Squire to lose his colour completely. Neither the prospect of being shot at nor being lunged at and struck with a billhook could produce such an effect, yet some quiet words have him wholly tense and seemingly struggling to speak.


The Young Squire looks to the other gentleman to see if he will take the lead in any plans to discuss this further, courteously willing to arrange around his work. Polzeath unobtrusively makes sure they have space for the moment, drawing those nearby into quiet conversation and ensuring a slower pace, even if one quick glance at Maggie's powerful frame says there's nothing he can do about her.

The Doctor keeps walking as he speaks to the Squire shaking his head briefly

The Squire listens closely as they pace through the old formal layout up to the steps of the house. The Doctor's first remark draws a brief return of tension, as one supressing a shudder. The younger man gives a wan smile that's nonetheless genuine, and heads up into the house, leaving the door open. A dark gape in the pale mist remains to any that wish to go inside.

After a bit Maggie stands alone on the so-called "Field of Honour". She cannot sort out what sort of honour there is about killing or being killed in aid of some intangible injury or some peoples' respect.

It is clearly something about men of the gentry. No woman would risk her life so wantonly. And no commoner would stand up to be shot at, not even for a chance to kill their worst enemy; not when a knife in the dark or a shot from ambush would do as well.

The hospitality of Fox Hall and Nathan Fox's board is not for her. Of that she's certain. As the mist begins to burn away, she settles her shawl about her shoulders, patting the leather game bag that holds Trugred's skull.

Maggie turns her steps toward the Stone house, hoping to have a few quiet words with young Jim.

The Doctor stands a moment watching Nathan enter the house, then turns "Right then Polzeath, let us go see to young Jim's injuries" and he heads off intent on just that.

Polzeath follows after without delay. The sunrise slowly starts casting slivers of bright beaten gold out over the mists.

[[FYI on this thread that the Doctor & Maggie have left after the other combattants.]]

In reply to Robin Yendale (msg # 24):

Before Andrew leaves, he says to the man, "I'd like to get to the Hall to try to get some sleep. Would you mind seeing me there?" While he only directly asks Andrew, his question is open-ended for anyone.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:33, Sat 19 Aug 2023.

Andrew nods in the affirmative to Samuel’s request.

Taking a deep breath, he ventures into the open door to Fox Hall, intent on seeking out the Squire, if Mister Fox has the time and inclination to speak with him.

The panelled hallway looms up and around them with no-one immediately in sight. Some little seeking in the direction of the clumping of shoes and low voices brings them to servants, however, and Thea Hartman offers to let Sam sleep in the kitchen or her overnight pallet if he likes, the rooms loaned to inn guests now being settled and accounted for.

Andrew is assured an interview will be requested when the Squire is properly up and about, and offered a spot by the kitchen fire smoke if he desires and to eat just about whatever his heart could wish, Master Fox having bid the displaced inn guests and patrons receive some little feasting for their troubles.

The wait is long, with the sun beginning to show in the windows and the mists slowly simmering away into daylight as Andrew watches. There seem to be fewer servants and a little less equipment about than usual - some sent to the church, he gathers, to provide fresh cooking there - but whoever is about is willing to speak with him, if conversation is wanted, or let him alone to his thoughts if it's not. At length Waygood the butler informs the carpenter that he may come up to the study to be met.


[[Sam, if you could confirm to me that you're not accompanying Andrew I'll take you off this thread, just let me know. Andrew, I don't actually know what your plan is here, but good luck.]]

Sam follows Thea to the kitchen, agreeing to find a spot to sleep there.


[[Sam is not accompanying Andrew - he's just going to get some sleep.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:58, Wed 23 Aug 2023.

Andrew recalls that his father, when he was yet a small child, had reason to come to the Fox Estate. A repair that was needed in the wake of a storm had required his presence. Andrew heard his parents speak of the house, the vast differences between it and the homes of humble people, like themselves. It almost seemed to him that his father was in wonder that such a place like the estate existed at all.

The carpenter follows the servant without a word, trying to ignore his gnawing discomfort, instead focusing his thoughts on his obligation, his need to share with Mister Fox the truth which he knew. It would be a relief to speak of it and have it behind him. It was the right thing to do and it was what had compelled him to remain.

Leaving the kitchen that was easily the size of his house - with the workshop, if you added pantries and store rooms, doubling it with the cellars - and all ghostly thoughts of the knights and ladies and silk-clad nobles served by it over centuries, Andrew follows Waygood out to the pannelled hall and main stair. The ancient wood about them brings a kind of solidity of darkness to shadows in the hall, as though they stood as players before a painted grove, looking up to a spotlight candle playing sun above the canopy where east-facing windows illuminated the landing.

Fox kisses his lady's hand and departs said landing as they arrive at the bottom of the stairs: Andrew catches sight of Janet, transfigured in a dress that seems almost to be worked from gold, heading up to meet some maid directing her. The girl who'd been just a little too young and too fine to be like a younger cousin to Andrew notes their presence and briefly grips the bannister in that high and light-filled place to wave, a slight flush in her cheeks but radiant for all that. She leaves to her breakfast in some higher room, and Andrew ascends the ancient stair to pass through the library. It's as many books as he's seen together, the smell of them unexpected and good as boards creak underfoot.

Nathan Fox moves from the tall windows to their right as Waygood knocks to announce them, giving Andrew a curious glance as he settles into one of the fireplace chairs, indicating the other and that the butler might go, thank you. Andrew is left to pace across the high-ceilinged room and join the Young Squire under the gaze of two blue-and-white patterned porcelain dogs on the mantel and a curious picture of a man in a golden sun mask away behind the desk at the far end, presumably some Classical myth or allegory. His feet sink gently into the carpet before the unlit fireplace, stirring up more unfamiliar scents. Somehow the flowers depicted there by some weaver of the middle Orient do not rustle and shake their petals out of flat and geometric form to twine towards the light, but all things are fabulous and strange here; he is not certain but that they might.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:39, Sat 02 Sept 2023.

Fox leans forward in his chair once Andrew is settled, pushing away the remnant pleasure that caused his wife to gently blush as he composes himself to be as serious as possible. The position causes Andrew to notice his fox-red hair is tied back a little differently, perhaps more flamboyant in the bow - it seems Janet rather than himself has re-corralled those locks since the duel now like a dream in the vanished mists.

 "Well, good morning again, Master Sexton. Do I take it you're keen to tell me where Master Stone got his ideas?"

The Squire's expression is curious, not as yet hostile or in the least forbidding. A muffled clonking of sheep bells out on the lawn is just audible as the animals wander around being slightly useful and mostly ornamental.

Andrew’s takes a seat on the edge of one of the chairs, acutely aware that he is out of place in this fine home, and suspecting that Mister Fox is only tolerating his presence out of a need to be aware of any loose talk that might be passed about in Scorch Norton. Mindful of that, he strives to be complete, but concise, not wishing to delay the Squire’s forthcoming dismissal.

”To be fair, it was John Ragge who first happened upon the idea of Jim Stone having been manipulated, sir,” the carpenter says.

Beginning with his and Robin’s visit to Jim Stone at the stables, an event that seemed almost an age ago now, Andrew discusses all that he had been told by Jim, both there and at the cell, emphasizing the young man’s unwillingness to consider any alternative explanation. He then details his visit to Goodie Westcott, leaving out nothing that she told him. Andrew feels his stomach tighten as he speaks of this information, his discomfort in discussing such matters likely apparent. Lastly, he brings up the subject of the doppelgängers, a matter spoken of by several of the villagers, noting what he had been told of Thomas Bees by Thomas himself and his sister.

He states his conviction that the perpetrator was likely one of the doppelgängers, and that though he believes that Goodie Westcott knows more about these terrible manifestations than the rest of Scorch Norton, the carpenter doesn’t believe that the midwife is in league with the source of them. He earnestly thinks that she respects the primal powers that wander the wilderness with the hope of maintaining peace with them, in part for the good of the greater community.


[[GM edit: PM clarification added in for reference.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:32, Wed 13 Sept 2023.

Squire Fox listens intently to all the carpenter has to tell him, making no motion save to cup his chin in his hand in thought. When all is told, however, his native spark and energy reasserts itself and he gets up at once, heading for the desk though pausing on the way to remark: "...it must be considered, however, what kind of bargains must be made with those 'primal powers' for peace."

He paces on. "...also that we do not know who encouraged Master Stone to his masked and somewhat ritual course, and that given Goodie Westcott was willing to pass to you such information as may be calculated to incriminate me..." The Squire trails off to rummage in the desk, the sun-masked man watching behind him through layers of old varnish. "Well, I don't know that her plans are bearing fruit. Indeed, it might be safer for her if I have the sheriff's men remove her to Taunton or Bath, should the Wood be disappointed at the results of her meddling, as well it might be. I believe I read somewhere that reheaded men of noble birth made the most favourable sacrifices for our savage ancestors, and as you see, neither stag nor blade nor hangman's rope has claimed me yet."

He comes over with the scent of jasmine and agarwood, as though it were his step that stirred the carpet to proper life, and proffers then presses three shillings into Andrew's palm. "Thank you. I assure you you have done your duty in what you have told me. Mind, however," Fox says, two fingers still pressing the silver against the workman's palm, "-that should you repeat any speculations about my wife's honour outside this room and this time, I will demand satisfaction of you upon the field, and without the mercy shown to the garden boy."

Fox passes back towards the windows. "She is the purest creature alive, and if we were married in the sight of God before the sight of men, then it-"

He pauses, frowning. There is a sense of commotion in the house, though no particular sound communicates it. The Squire strides to the small casement near the desk and throws it open, allowing those within to hear the church bell calling urgent alarm to all that can hear:

  {{BONG}}

                   {{BONG}}                          {{BONG}}

                                   {{BONG}}

For a moment, all sense of awkwardness leaves the carpenter as the Squire presses the coins into his palm. He looks up, firmly meeting the other man’s eyes. ”I sought to tell you this in hopes of helping to bring the suffering Scorch Norton has been under to an end. I do not wish harm on anyone, including your family, sir. Had I been the sort to spread vile gossip, I have already had ample opportunity to whisper in others’ ears.”

“I simply want this darkness to leave us.”

He sets the shillings on the table nearest his seat, rising when he hears the church bells. Swallowing, he moves to leave the estate, rushing to reach the church as quickly as he can manage.

Forgetting everything but the urgent message of the bells, Andrew runs out through the library and down the main stairs, scarcely heeding the step of the Squire hastening on behind him. The servants have pooled themselves at the base of the stairs to await orders; Andrew pushes through them, half-recalling that Sam was likely somewhere about.

Waygood raises an eyebrow at Master Sexton apparently running away from the interview he'd requested, but is on the ball enough to open the door for him without Andrew having to slow: he rushes out onto the lawn, scattering sheep, and heads off towards the church at his best lope.

[[I'll switch you over to the church thread and let Sam in once I know you've seen this.]]

---

Sam, meanwhile, sees Master - well, Mister, now, truly - Fox step out onto the landing with the cold composure of generations' training for command. He glances up just a moment to be sure Janet has also come, and sets to ordering maids to boil water and bring out clean sheets and more agile male servants to head out at once. The remainder of the staff and bleary inn guests he comes down to instruct specifically, engaging in brief conversation with each.

Sam makes his way towards Master Fox, a look of concern on his face as he hears the urgent sounding of the bells. His focus is only on figuring out what might have happened to Jim that could have led to this - if he was being manipulated into it by someone.

"Master Fox? Could I have a quick word with you?

The Squire looks over as servants hasten away from him, blowing a kiss to Janet and gesturing Sam to keep up as he heads out to the stables. "A very quick word, then you can help escort my wife across the village to check on her parents. You'll have a work horse, but I know you can ride."

Sam nods to Master Fox. "I know I had mentioned Jim and what he had mentioned... had you gotten the chance to speak with him? If so, did you find out anything?

"I honestly doubt he'd talk to me if I tried," the Squire says, briefly surprised but not slowing. "-but Master Sexton told me Goodie Westcott has been passing around...some deeply inflammatory gossip in the name of keeping peace with the Wood, and belike she's the cause, intentionally or not."

He pauses to take his sword and newly-primed pistols from those he'd sent to fetch them, the rapid clatter of hooves suggesting his horse is being brought at a trot, then reaches into his waistcoat pocket. "By the way, spend some of this on the carpenter if you can, he was too proud to take payment, though I said I'd give it at the start." He presses three shillings into Sam's hand, reaches out for the reins of his thoroughbred as they reach the stables and mounts up.

"Don't let my wife get too near the trouble, even if she thinks I'm in danger," he commands Sam, a very different young man to the Nathan Fox who'd been seized with blind panic in the Wyzenwood, though absolutely the same that would fight a stag. He wheels his horse about and kicks up to a gallop towards the village.

"...ye riding with the Lady, then?" John Ragge asks from where he'd handed over the horse.

Sam nods to Nathan, understanding why Jim would most likely not talk to the squire. He reaches a hand out to take the coin. "What sort of gossip had she spread?" he asks as he mounts up.

He continues, "My plan was to go investigate the danger, but I will ensure that she gets to her parents safely."

Either Mister Fox had not heard Sam's question or courteously pretended not to: probably just as well, if the rumours were of a kind to drive one man to try and kill another.

"Well, rest of the village is seeing to that," John observes, "-an' could be you'll meet the Criddles come up, besides...let's get ye and the mistress ahorse, she'll be ready by the time we've all tacked up."

---

His statement proved accurate, and soon a rather pale and worried Janet is riding her own horse between theirs into the village at a fair run. Sam sits on Major, aware of the big chestnut workhorse's every shift of muscle as they plunge towards the church. The bell has stopped ringing now, but looking ahead as they rein back a little to clatter through the narrow streets the trio can see Hester Collins standing up on the churchyard wall near the lych-gate, apparently directing newcomers. A great cry and crowding of people appears to be gathered about the vicarage.

Sam helps prepare Major, mounting up and soon helping Janet on her horse. He takes note of Hester Collins stirring up the crowd outside the church. He simply hoped nothing would happen to the vicar - even if he wasn't particularly religious.

"Let's keep going. Seems like things will get real bad real quick at the church if everyone is there."

Janet gives a little frown at the strange phrasing, but nods and follows Sam on down the road. They thread past the commotion at the vicarage, horses snorting and tensed, and move away from the emergency and whatever horrors are unfolding there, hoping to find Withringhold as yet untouched.