As Peggy Powler shuffled along the high passageway behind the huge being carrying the unconscious body of Albert Hobson
and a lantern -that the little follower guessed she'd seen the night before, she studied the irony of how the unknown enemy that
she'd been requested to expel, had explained more about the current situation than those who had sought assistance from the
Last Witch of Underhill.
"...And I can see how it would be certainly seen has a puzzle to anyone outside of the scheme..." the massive Hyder continued and
carefully adjusting his grip on the young man slumped under his arm, looked for confirmation from his tiny guest over his shoulder.
"...I mean, even to a regular Pooker -as you see them, why sell one's ingredients to make ale and then purchase back the very
product one deems to profit from?" the giant silhouette solicited. With the slow realisation of what the red-smock-wearing Elders
had been up to in the valley of Pook Hill, Peggy nodded in the darkness and stifled the vexation she felt.
Of course, the little sorceress' current chagrin came from three sources, the initial being the outright deceit she'd been fed by those
deemed in charge and her own gullibility from accepting piety demanded the virtue of honesty. Peggy looked towards the faint light
further up the tunnel and pondered the third failing she'd embraced without query.
It now seemed Donovan's Practices were not exactly accurate. A Hyder didn't adhere to a primitive culture after all, the lantern was
an obvious clue, but the giant -who had introduced himself as Janus Mockingbird, also spoke with an eloquence that was not only
respectful, but showed the old book as a poorly-garnered selection of information. Peggy didn't say it, but 'Bag of Shite' did cross
her mind.
...................................................
One thing Peggy would agree on was to the same type of outsider that the Hyder had just referred to, the exit from the cavern
of beer barrels would be difficult to discover. Where a huge boulder jutted from the wall behind the piled-up casks, it seemed
that what Pookers were in on the secret stash had capitulated to the rock's size and agreed to just leave it where it was.
And why not, the expanse of the cavern was enough to hold almost double the amount of wooden containers it currently held
and even though the excavation had been clandestine and ergo, performed by only a few of the brethren, the spell-worker knew
that when it came to managerial-types, pushing quills was preferred to manual labour.
Smiling at that thought, Peggy allowed herself to wonder what her day would've been like if they'd only tried to remove the boulder
Maybe her trek down this tunnel with a well-spoken Hyder and a blacked-out cult-novice may have been avoided. But regardless
of how the Fates throw their dice, the waddling Witch surveyed the shoulders of the huge human and thought about how she'd first
encountered the giant.
...................................................
Standing at the height of two men, Janus Mockingbird had allayed Peggy's initial concerns and her delivery of spells from the
moment he spoke. An uncivilised brute he was not, the plain tunic, thick waistcoat and sailcloth-trousers uttered an introduction
that even a reclusive Pooker could even understand.
"Forgive my sudden appearance, I mean no ill-will to you or your young soporific companion..." the giant said softly and displayed
a smile that prompted its receiver to acknowledge the sender's benevolence. "...From your inadvertently overheard-conversation,
and your attire, am I to presume you are not of the community from above?" Janus asked politely.
Peggy had eased her stance for an attack and viewed the face looming from the shadows of the barrels. He was hairy, but not in
the manner described by the author of the desultory book she'd read back at Myrddin's abode. Long black locks flowed down the
sides of his head and lay across Janus' shoulders that hinted it -was at least, combed from time to time.
Due to the lack of effulgence from the oil-lanterns, the Last Witch of Underhill was unable to see the colour of his eyes, but their
setting broached a kindly demeanour who's observations enjoyed a similar environment. Janus' nose was broad and thus, maybe
Donovan the scribe had accomplished some investigative work on the subject of Hyders, however, the giant's teeth didn't offer
any indication of predatory practices. "Aye" the hesitant Witch answered his inquiry and chanced a bow of greeting
It wasn't until Janus Mockingbird suggested a more comprehensive discussion could be had in a lesser precarious surroundings
that Peggy noticed the Hyder was wearing stout home-made leather boots and not the hessian wrappings she'd believed from
the earlier footprints. Maybe when she'd spied his lantern-lit hunt through the knot-hole of the Meeting Hall, his pursuit had been
spontaneous and not of his choosing?
With Albert still in the embrace of his faint and under the armpit of her huge host, Peggy concluded that the current circumstances
would be nothing akin to what she'd first thought when she'd vaulted the split-rail fence that bordered Pook Hill. As Janus' massive
form moved slightly to one side, this assumption was reinforced by the glimpsing of three young people standing beneath the source
of the light further down the tunnel.
and a lantern -that the little follower guessed she'd seen the night before, she studied the irony of how the unknown enemy that
she'd been requested to expel, had explained more about the current situation than those who had sought assistance from the
Last Witch of Underhill.
"...And I can see how it would be certainly seen has a puzzle to anyone outside of the scheme..." the massive Hyder continued and
carefully adjusting his grip on the young man slumped under his arm, looked for confirmation from his tiny guest over his shoulder.
"...I mean, even to a regular Pooker -as you see them, why sell one's ingredients to make ale and then purchase back the very
product one deems to profit from?" the giant silhouette solicited. With the slow realisation of what the red-smock-wearing Elders
had been up to in the valley of Pook Hill, Peggy nodded in the darkness and stifled the vexation she felt.
Of course, the little sorceress' current chagrin came from three sources, the initial being the outright deceit she'd been fed by those
deemed in charge and her own gullibility from accepting piety demanded the virtue of honesty. Peggy looked towards the faint light
further up the tunnel and pondered the third failing she'd embraced without query.
It now seemed Donovan's Practices were not exactly accurate. A Hyder didn't adhere to a primitive culture after all, the lantern was
an obvious clue, but the giant -who had introduced himself as Janus Mockingbird, also spoke with an eloquence that was not only
respectful, but showed the old book as a poorly-garnered selection of information. Peggy didn't say it, but 'Bag of Shite' did cross
her mind.
...................................................
One thing Peggy would agree on was to the same type of outsider that the Hyder had just referred to, the exit from the cavern
of beer barrels would be difficult to discover. Where a huge boulder jutted from the wall behind the piled-up casks, it seemed
that what Pookers were in on the secret stash had capitulated to the rock's size and agreed to just leave it where it was.
And why not, the expanse of the cavern was enough to hold almost double the amount of wooden containers it currently held
and even though the excavation had been clandestine and ergo, performed by only a few of the brethren, the spell-worker knew
that when it came to managerial-types, pushing quills was preferred to manual labour.
Smiling at that thought, Peggy allowed herself to wonder what her day would've been like if they'd only tried to remove the boulder
Maybe her trek down this tunnel with a well-spoken Hyder and a blacked-out cult-novice may have been avoided. But regardless
of how the Fates throw their dice, the waddling Witch surveyed the shoulders of the huge human and thought about how she'd first
encountered the giant.
...................................................
Standing at the height of two men, Janus Mockingbird had allayed Peggy's initial concerns and her delivery of spells from the
moment he spoke. An uncivilised brute he was not, the plain tunic, thick waistcoat and sailcloth-trousers uttered an introduction
that even a reclusive Pooker could even understand.
"Forgive my sudden appearance, I mean no ill-will to you or your young soporific companion..." the giant said softly and displayed
a smile that prompted its receiver to acknowledge the sender's benevolence. "...From your inadvertently overheard-conversation,
and your attire, am I to presume you are not of the community from above?" Janus asked politely.
Peggy had eased her stance for an attack and viewed the face looming from the shadows of the barrels. He was hairy, but not in
the manner described by the author of the desultory book she'd read back at Myrddin's abode. Long black locks flowed down the
sides of his head and lay across Janus' shoulders that hinted it -was at least, combed from time to time.
Due to the lack of effulgence from the oil-lanterns, the Last Witch of Underhill was unable to see the colour of his eyes, but their
setting broached a kindly demeanour who's observations enjoyed a similar environment. Janus' nose was broad and thus, maybe
Donovan the scribe had accomplished some investigative work on the subject of Hyders, however, the giant's teeth didn't offer
any indication of predatory practices. "Aye" the hesitant Witch answered his inquiry and chanced a bow of greeting
It wasn't until Janus Mockingbird suggested a more comprehensive discussion could be had in a lesser precarious surroundings
that Peggy noticed the Hyder was wearing stout home-made leather boots and not the hessian wrappings she'd believed from
the earlier footprints. Maybe when she'd spied his lantern-lit hunt through the knot-hole of the Meeting Hall, his pursuit had been
spontaneous and not of his choosing?
With Albert still in the embrace of his faint and under the armpit of her huge host, Peggy concluded that the current circumstances
would be nothing akin to what she'd first thought when she'd vaulted the split-rail fence that bordered Pook Hill. As Janus' massive
form moved slightly to one side, this assumption was reinforced by the glimpsing of three young people standing beneath the source
of the light further down the tunnel.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.