"If you cut me do I not bleed?"
Robin took the end of the sword to make a point and sliced himself over the arm. Tooke was horrified.
"Ha!" exclaimed Puck flamboyantly ... "Oh no! Fancy that! I do not!"
"Sometimes I forget that I am not nearly the same as you" Friar Tooke conceded. He was a man of moderate composure whose thinking was so sedate it rarely inflamed with emotion of any kind. But his friend could vex him so.
Robin was just trying to make merry - disposing of the fact that Tooke's chapter had just left him and that the brethren had reentered the world for good.
Puck was continually showing him the incomprehensible - and was so uncanny that Tooke could not help but be disturbed on so many levels.
Robin, on the other hand, was beginning to feel the outcast that he was - and had only ever sought to impress his close friend - not to frighten.
Coming out of the woods and into the realm of men was never easy for him - he was sensitive to those things that they could never really understand.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
The skies were overcast and threatening again. The chill in the air had a bite that nipped the ears, and his fellow monks were all losing weight - despite of the thick clots of crème they had been eating.
Ever since their torment, nigh after the Sheriff had bemused himself with his bilious comments whilst restraining them, the men had been downcast and believing themselves to have failed for becoming a'feared. Added to that was their survivors guilt from the battle; for all of them had brothers and fathers that had died that very day and it had only been the robes that had kept them from being cut down also.
They did not feel like men, and nor did they feel holy. This was a low period for them all.
"You must know that you are nit-picking about the crème" remarked Robin in his most tedious voice - what he meant to be saying was that this was the least of their troubles.
"I do know" the Monk replied wearily ... "but it fills in a day. There is nothing for us to do out here in hiding and the brothers are getting tired of it just praying all the time. I fear that their hearts are not attached to their contemplations anymore."
"You should let them go", Robin said unexpectedly. "The villages are in need of men - their own families are calling for ploughmen and fathers to be. Perhaps you should release them of their vows."
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
"Do you call that cream?"
"Yes. The lumps are all the more fancy."
"That is foreigner's crème not Anglaise cream."
"'Tis a marvel, I know."
Friar Tooke grunted, he liked his cream to be straight off the top and not diddled with - the panjacks were better rustic than fancy. This was not a good omen to begin the day.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
Brother Tooke read his expression as consent and said:
"It is with love that I say this to you Brother." And then he backed up a few paces, rolled his baggy sleeves up to the elbows and ran powerfully towards Robin ending with a head butt to the chest - which was just enough to make him buckle. He then lifted him high, heaved him over his shoulder, running fast the fifteen paces towards the river, which lay, not far beside them.
"In the Name of the Son, The Father, and the all-pervading most Holy Ghost" he threw Robin in, jumped on him, dragging him down beneath the muddy water.
"Welcome! To the Order of Man and the Benevolence of the Christhood and its sanctity within our blessed Church!"
"Well, glad I am that that dialogue is now over" Robin said, caught by the humor of it, and that he had in fact, not dissolved in body or soul. He knew also that the monk never really did anything for mirth alone - Tooke was a practical man spiritually and as far as he was concerned, everything had its purpose, and that purpose was always good.
Drying off on the grassy banks Robin took a flying leap at Brother Tooke, hurling him back into the river again.
"It is only just my friend, that I should baptise thee!" he shouted as he had thrown him into the water's arms - narrowly missing the bulging boulders besides.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
"So what is it that concerns you boy?"
Robin could not find the words - which was very unusual for him.
"This is personal and private to me alone ... I am not of your ways, nor need to be."
"But what harm can come of it I say? That is of course,” he added with a smile, "if there is a soul in there to be saved."
"Well thank God you be smiling. Had it not occurred to his holy-ness that you might just dissolve me altogether with your Christ-shone magicks?"
The monk would not have this. Tooke's smiling eyes did their best to pierce Robin's own, with meaning.
"Under God, you and I are the same with spirit, and with His Love. I do not doubt it and neither should you."
"If that be true then", returned Robin, "Why the need for baptism then? I still can't grasp your enchantments!"
"There are many paths and although not a shortcut, it is at the very least, a straightforward one. I sit with your Elvin Council, why then can you not indulge me with this one ask?"
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
As the figures dropped away, the crowd was clearing; it became apparent that there was someone standing central to them after all.
This figure was one of light also, indicating that his ghost must have already dissolved ... it stood very tall and seemed different to the other knights and soldiers surrounding him.
He held a pole that bore a shining silk cloth draped from it - and his face was covered with a golden helmet. People all around him knelt and bowed their heads - as though they thought somehow that it was he who had delivered them. It seemed that the battle was over, and peace had ever so gladly resumed.
Cheering began and grew louder very quickly. He had taken his helmet from his head and knelt also alongside the many who had remained.
"Strueth!" said Bart so loudly everyone jumped a little - "is that Brogan down there?"
Marley looked hard - but it was difficult to see in any great detail - but yes, the one central to the mob, now wearing a crown, did bear a remarkable resemblance to Brogan oddly enough.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
One hapless ghoul had been stuck through the middle with a four-foot sword. He was tugging and pulling to be free of it, and lay impaled, writhing on its pin.
A man, who also walked as though in a cloud of light, was dressed as a farmer in working clothes. He came out of the airs, and like Arthur with the sword from the stone, plucked it firmly out - freeing him at last from his centuries of aggravation. He then disappeared, as the others had done before him.
One by one the spectres were reclaimed as the party watched from the top, transfixed by the dramatic stories becoming evident – now, with much happier endings than before.
Biff, who had fallen asleep during the prayers, woke to find everyone standing by the windows - he asked Jobe what was going on.
"That Priest there is mighty. He's gobbling up the dead wrecks and moving their sorry arses on. Hey, look over there - that real ugly one just disappeared!"
Goober scowled at this disappointing lowbrow explanation, feeling pretty sure it was far from the real truth of what was going on before them. Deep magic is best not talked about whilst you are in the very middle of it happening, and so he decided to let the comment pass.
Marley stood beside Puck, looking at him wonderingly. She loved his connectedness, and how he mixed with so many people. She thought of all of the centuries he had lived - without forgetting like the mortals do – and she wondered to herself just how many he had known.
It seemed to be getting darker - or perhaps it was that the body of collective light was brightening as the numbers of illumined souls began to outrun that of the remaining ghosts.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
