01-07-2022, 02:29 PM
When Accam Dey had finished his subtly-hidden diatribe towards the diminutive woman under the wider-brimmed hat,
she wondered if the expressive beast felt any better for the articulate re-telling of what he believed was the past -journey
of herself.
Peggy Powler imperceptibly grunted to acknowledge that the wolf had finished and now mentally prepared to ask for
guidance in ridding Puddledown of its current problem. She wondered if the Beast of Hexham was revelling in the hubris
of what he'd described, but it seemed by his expression that it was what he believed to be true and held no judgement
one way or the other.
"Yer've gotta fine way of tellin' a tale" the little Witch said absently and looked towards Phineas' house. The afternoon
was getting away from her and she needed the information from the only creature in the land who she believed had it.
Getting to her feet, Peggy brushed the dirt from her knees and nonchalantly putting her satchel back on her shoulder,
carefully arranged her thoughts to ask for that vital instruction.
"The people of this village need me-help and Ah' brought yer' back from the dead te' help me..." Peggy said with a note
of conviction. "...Now, the way Ah' see it is either yer' do this or Ah' just put yer' back in the ground and find another way"
she supplemented and again, feigned interest towards the Stappen abode.
"It is said that I am cursed with a wickedness, but I assure you if it exists, it is only outshone by the esteem I have for your
yeoman-esque frankness..." Accam Dey replied with a smile that would make a maiden blush. "...You are direct and display
your morality in that blunt, hayseed accent that I have always found delightful and beguiling" he added and then quickly
continued as Peggy opened her mouth to respond.
"When one cogitates on the scales of your offer, one might deduce that pretty thumb of yours is calibrating a result that is
in your favour..." the wolf said teasingly. "...An eternity of staring into the blackness of the dirt with only worms for company
or chance to fight alongside the lionised Last Witch of Underhill, all bare-thighs and yokel virtue... hmmm, now let me think".
In an instant and with a puckish change in muscle-assignment around his dangerous maw, Accam Dey's supposition of what
could be construed as a proposal, took his plum-shaped toned oration from jaunty badinage to acerbic mockery.
"I believe you already know the answer" he added as a statement.
...................................................
Phineas Stappen was preparing sandwiches that he'd guessed would be needed for what Peggy Powler may believe lay
ahead for ridding Puddledown of the elusive raider. Whether he -himself, would be required for such a quest, he wasn't sure
of, but he'd wagered that a hefty pile of hoagies and a water-filled canteen would be enough for them both.
Occasionally looking up from his menial chore and watching the very strange conversation taking place in his rear-garden,
Phineas wondered what confounding counsel was being exchanged. He would never doubt Peggy's magical abilities and
had accepted there were certain laws governing her use of the skills, but the sorceress' current stance out there amidst his
crops indicated she was struggling with those customs.
With a soft grunt of mild bewilderment -similar to his friend, he went back to doing he knew was real and tangible.
Buttering some bread, he assumed with amusement that the evil head under his pear tree wouldn't need anything to eat.
...................................................
Peggy laughed out loud and shook her head in amazement at what Accam Dey had told her, the actions from the Witch's
incredulity didn't seem to confound the furry head amongst the herbs and his only reaction was an enjoyment of her mirth.
"Tis' true, my sweet child... your quarry's confidence is based on his knowing that you look and behave like a human" he
quipped with a lighter note than his previous narration.
The bantam Witch quelled her amusement and peered over at the bag of bones laid near a row of carrots. The idea that
wearing the pelt of the monster of Hexham seemed featherbrained and she couldn't see how capturing her prey could be
implemented by pretending to look like damned-thing. "Don't be a silly-bugger!" Peggy exclaimed in a scorning inflection,
but Accam Dey saw that her features didn't support her tongue.
"Those scales that you used to force my assessment of your contract are back in play at this moment, Peggy..." the flinty
-eyed wolf voiced slowly. "...You must become myself or the only other way would be to..." and that was when the Witch
copied Accam Dey's earlier interception and quickly rebuked his unsaid suggestion. "NO BLOODY-WAY...!" she said loudly,
"... letting you loose on the realm again te' terrorise and maraud, yer' take' me fur' a daft oaf, der' yer?!" and shook her
head at the absurd idea.
Something Accam Dey couldn't do right now.
The late-afternoon still held some warmth as the air between the Witch and the Wolf seemed to become compact and heavy.
Accam Dey had moved his chess pieces with skill and now -instead of Peggy's bargaining-tool that the creature would be
buried again as a fulcrum to his surrendering of how to kill the wolf of Puddledown, the necromancer -herself, was now looking
at an entirely different transaction on the table.
One was foul, the option, fouler.
"No" was the murmur from the Witch's lips that Accam Dey had been waiting for, the single word pronounced with a flavour of
doubt. The huge head held no friendly grin or appearance of benign companionship now, just a seriousness of demand for an
answer. With an appropriate pregnant pause, Accam Dey spoke again. "Of course, to release myself from my current latitude,
I would have to pledge my fealty to your stewardship, Miss Powler... I would have to agree to be your chattel".
The air was almost crackling in the space between them as the horror that had been beheaded in Summertide spoke the words
that Peggy had never wanted to hear in her lifetime. The Promise is a high-secret and no human has ever heard the pact said.
Staring open-mouthed at Accam Dey has he uttered the sacred vow of obedience to the bare-footed Fae-woman, she felt the
sudden urge to urinate.
"Noooo!" Peggy breathed, but knew she could not renege on what was happening. When such austere duty is sworn to, just like
a marriage in the human world, no Fae can put asunder. It seemed the sunlight dimmed for a moment as a sound arrived at the
distraught woman's ears and remembering to inhale, Peggy gingerly turned towards the column of vegetables enjoying the last
of the summer day. The weather-worn container of Accam Dey's remains had began to move.
...................................................
The knapsack was full due to a couple of apples that Phineas had tossed in for good measure and with a glance towards the
dirty jacket that he and his guest had used to transport the rotting carcase of his mother and sister's killer back to his home,
he judged his sturdier coat hanging in the porch would be a better style of apparel -assuming he was needed.
Peggy's footfalls could be heard behind him on the kitchen floor as he drew the cord on the bag and smiled to himself at a grand
job done. With his back to the small scullery, he readied himself for his friend's decision on whether he would escorting her on the
hunt to slay the beast of Puddledown.
Then he heard a sound that made his soul freeze. He'd heard it before when he was a child, a skittering -but determined step
of something with evil on its mind and blood in its wake. "Hello there... doesn't time fly?".
she wondered if the expressive beast felt any better for the articulate re-telling of what he believed was the past -journey
of herself.
Peggy Powler imperceptibly grunted to acknowledge that the wolf had finished and now mentally prepared to ask for
guidance in ridding Puddledown of its current problem. She wondered if the Beast of Hexham was revelling in the hubris
of what he'd described, but it seemed by his expression that it was what he believed to be true and held no judgement
one way or the other.
"Yer've gotta fine way of tellin' a tale" the little Witch said absently and looked towards Phineas' house. The afternoon
was getting away from her and she needed the information from the only creature in the land who she believed had it.
Getting to her feet, Peggy brushed the dirt from her knees and nonchalantly putting her satchel back on her shoulder,
carefully arranged her thoughts to ask for that vital instruction.
"The people of this village need me-help and Ah' brought yer' back from the dead te' help me..." Peggy said with a note
of conviction. "...Now, the way Ah' see it is either yer' do this or Ah' just put yer' back in the ground and find another way"
she supplemented and again, feigned interest towards the Stappen abode.
"It is said that I am cursed with a wickedness, but I assure you if it exists, it is only outshone by the esteem I have for your
yeoman-esque frankness..." Accam Dey replied with a smile that would make a maiden blush. "...You are direct and display
your morality in that blunt, hayseed accent that I have always found delightful and beguiling" he added and then quickly
continued as Peggy opened her mouth to respond.
"When one cogitates on the scales of your offer, one might deduce that pretty thumb of yours is calibrating a result that is
in your favour..." the wolf said teasingly. "...An eternity of staring into the blackness of the dirt with only worms for company
or chance to fight alongside the lionised Last Witch of Underhill, all bare-thighs and yokel virtue... hmmm, now let me think".
In an instant and with a puckish change in muscle-assignment around his dangerous maw, Accam Dey's supposition of what
could be construed as a proposal, took his plum-shaped toned oration from jaunty badinage to acerbic mockery.
"I believe you already know the answer" he added as a statement.
...................................................
Phineas Stappen was preparing sandwiches that he'd guessed would be needed for what Peggy Powler may believe lay
ahead for ridding Puddledown of the elusive raider. Whether he -himself, would be required for such a quest, he wasn't sure
of, but he'd wagered that a hefty pile of hoagies and a water-filled canteen would be enough for them both.
Occasionally looking up from his menial chore and watching the very strange conversation taking place in his rear-garden,
Phineas wondered what confounding counsel was being exchanged. He would never doubt Peggy's magical abilities and
had accepted there were certain laws governing her use of the skills, but the sorceress' current stance out there amidst his
crops indicated she was struggling with those customs.
With a soft grunt of mild bewilderment -similar to his friend, he went back to doing he knew was real and tangible.
Buttering some bread, he assumed with amusement that the evil head under his pear tree wouldn't need anything to eat.
...................................................
Peggy laughed out loud and shook her head in amazement at what Accam Dey had told her, the actions from the Witch's
incredulity didn't seem to confound the furry head amongst the herbs and his only reaction was an enjoyment of her mirth.
"Tis' true, my sweet child... your quarry's confidence is based on his knowing that you look and behave like a human" he
quipped with a lighter note than his previous narration.
The bantam Witch quelled her amusement and peered over at the bag of bones laid near a row of carrots. The idea that
wearing the pelt of the monster of Hexham seemed featherbrained and she couldn't see how capturing her prey could be
implemented by pretending to look like damned-thing. "Don't be a silly-bugger!" Peggy exclaimed in a scorning inflection,
but Accam Dey saw that her features didn't support her tongue.
"Those scales that you used to force my assessment of your contract are back in play at this moment, Peggy..." the flinty
-eyed wolf voiced slowly. "...You must become myself or the only other way would be to..." and that was when the Witch
copied Accam Dey's earlier interception and quickly rebuked his unsaid suggestion. "NO BLOODY-WAY...!" she said loudly,
"... letting you loose on the realm again te' terrorise and maraud, yer' take' me fur' a daft oaf, der' yer?!" and shook her
head at the absurd idea.
Something Accam Dey couldn't do right now.
The late-afternoon still held some warmth as the air between the Witch and the Wolf seemed to become compact and heavy.
Accam Dey had moved his chess pieces with skill and now -instead of Peggy's bargaining-tool that the creature would be
buried again as a fulcrum to his surrendering of how to kill the wolf of Puddledown, the necromancer -herself, was now looking
at an entirely different transaction on the table.
One was foul, the option, fouler.
"No" was the murmur from the Witch's lips that Accam Dey had been waiting for, the single word pronounced with a flavour of
doubt. The huge head held no friendly grin or appearance of benign companionship now, just a seriousness of demand for an
answer. With an appropriate pregnant pause, Accam Dey spoke again. "Of course, to release myself from my current latitude,
I would have to pledge my fealty to your stewardship, Miss Powler... I would have to agree to be your chattel".
The air was almost crackling in the space between them as the horror that had been beheaded in Summertide spoke the words
that Peggy had never wanted to hear in her lifetime. The Promise is a high-secret and no human has ever heard the pact said.
Staring open-mouthed at Accam Dey has he uttered the sacred vow of obedience to the bare-footed Fae-woman, she felt the
sudden urge to urinate.
"Noooo!" Peggy breathed, but knew she could not renege on what was happening. When such austere duty is sworn to, just like
a marriage in the human world, no Fae can put asunder. It seemed the sunlight dimmed for a moment as a sound arrived at the
distraught woman's ears and remembering to inhale, Peggy gingerly turned towards the column of vegetables enjoying the last
of the summer day. The weather-worn container of Accam Dey's remains had began to move.
...................................................
The knapsack was full due to a couple of apples that Phineas had tossed in for good measure and with a glance towards the
dirty jacket that he and his guest had used to transport the rotting carcase of his mother and sister's killer back to his home,
he judged his sturdier coat hanging in the porch would be a better style of apparel -assuming he was needed.
Peggy's footfalls could be heard behind him on the kitchen floor as he drew the cord on the bag and smiled to himself at a grand
job done. With his back to the small scullery, he readied himself for his friend's decision on whether he would escorting her on the
hunt to slay the beast of Puddledown.
Then he heard a sound that made his soul freeze. He'd heard it before when he was a child, a skittering -but determined step
of something with evil on its mind and blood in its wake. "Hello there... doesn't time fly?".
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.