Tapestry: The Foxxfyrre Chronicles Episode Five

 The Foxxfyrre Chronicles: Episode Five

Tapestries Tell All

Tapestry

The trip from London to the Weeping Hollows usually took an hour and a half to two hours, weather permitting. Today, it demanded an additional hour and a half of punishing winds and violent swells. Rennie spent the vast majority of that surplus time intimately acquainted with the starboard railing.

They finally docked at the Weeping Hollows, hiring a creaking carriage to carry them from the foggy docks into the village proper.

The village itself was a perfectly preserved peek into the past. Every structure was built of wattle and daub, coated in bright white lime plaster, and capped with finely trimmed thatched roofs. Though undeniably ancient, the architecture lacked the rot of time; the buildings looked as if they had been constructed yesterday.

There was a diminutive Inn with an attached public house, a confectioner that doubled as an apothecary, and a blacksmith near the stables. These made up the bulk of the main street.

They secured their rooms at the Inn immediately. After freshening up and unpacking their valises, they reconvened in the pub for dinner. The room was a warm throwback: heavy, solid oak tables, walls crowded with forgotten memorabilia from long-gone patrons, and a massive stone hearth where glowing embers fought back the damp evening chill. The rich, spiced aroma of mulled wine warming over the fire filled the air.

Rennie, despite swearing off intake hours prior, found his land-legs returning and ordered a bacon butty and a tankard of ale. Foxxfyrre opted for the steak and kidney pie, paired with a ceramic mug of the mulled wine.

After a few deep pulls of ale, the green finally faded from the wallaby’s gills. He wiped his mouth and noticed Foxxfyrre wasn't eating. The fox was taking in the scenery with a focused, diagnosing intensity.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Rennie noted, the familiar kinetic spark returning to his eyes. "Or, more accurately, you look like you're looking for a ghost."

"In a way, you are correct on both counts," Foxxfyrre murmured, not breaking his gaze. "Some of these paintings and tapestries are highly informative."

"How so?"

"Well, besides the usual patron favors, there are two small tapestries flanking the hearth that are quite curious. The one on the left depicts Druidic runes arranged in what I initially assumed was a warding or protection spell. Then there is the one on the right, which appears to be a Celtic poem transcribed in Middle English. If my translation holds, it reads:

They pierce the darkness, They stab the night, They lure the young ones, With songs oh so light, They'll snatch the full growns, If only by chance, Our song will dim wits, If minds lean light."

"That sounds like one of those gruesome Grimm's tales they tell children to scare them into behaving," Rennie shuddered.

"I suspect it might be slightly more literal than that."

A barmaid arrived to deliver their plates, and Foxxfyrre smoothly caught her attention. "Excuse me. Do you know anything about that tapestry on the left? Those are Druid runes, correct?"

"Oh yes, they are definitely Druidic," she replied cheerfully, setting down the steaming pie.

"And if I may ask, do they form a standard protection spell?"

"No, sir, not really. It's more of a contract. I've always been told it translates to: 'We will give it time, if you give us one.'"

Foxxfyrre's brow furrowed slightly, a rare break in his usual calm. "Give us one? One what?"

The barmaid offered a polite, unknowing smile. "That’s the mystery, sir. No one really knows."

Thanks for reading

TTFN
Frank aka Foxxfyrre