Chapter 9
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 8
Arthur really wishes he could enjoy the first time riding a horse more, but the prospect of reaching the village and investigating whatever is going on has him far too nervous- Darcy really had no need to scold him, he feels plenty like an imposter all by himself. Well. He is an imposter. What does a poor kid from Whitechapel know about investigating anything?
At least he doesn’t need to know how to ride- Gregory said that Eluned said they were fey horses, and would know what to do. Which they clearly do, as they move along peacefully and without needing much instructions, so Arthur can just focus on sitting on top of his horse and not getting in its way.
They rode through the town of Whitby itself, and then along country lanes, past farms and villages. There are fields and hedges, cows and sheep. Everything is very bright and green and… different from London. The views are much bigger, the amount of people much smaller. The air smells fresh and clean, but the mud is deep at farm gates.
He likes it in principle, he decides, but it makes him feel very out of his element.
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It might seem like it’s less people to Arthur, for Darcy this is the largest number of people she’s ever seen up close. And it’s terrifying, her knuckles are white on the reins, she’s glad that her horse doesn’t need any instructions, she named it Epona to give this twisted fairytale at least a bit of charm. The light of day feels like it’s so bright just to personally spite her, make the freedom and calm she felt under the gentle light of the stars a luxury she isn’t allowed. She feels so exposed, so thrown into a world she doesn’t belong to. But it can’t be helped, she’s wearing what the house provided and even she knows that she at least looks like a proper noble, so she tries her hardest to make her posture and demeanour fit the mask her dress provides.
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It isn’t far at all to Newholm- at their leisurely walk, they arrive there in less than an hour. Somehow (probably because neither Arthur nor Darcy were that eager to get going), it’s taken them until well after lunch to leave the castle, but they still arrive with plenty of afternoon left. The village is mostly strung along a main road, and women look out of windows or stop in the road as they draw to a halt in front of what seems to be the largest and most central building- a small inn of some sort.
For a long moment, nothing happens, and Arthur feels acutely awkward and exposed up on his shiny fey horse with his fancy clothes and no idea how to be a noble.
Then Gregory takes it upon himself to announce that they got the letter and are here to help!
Arthur thinks he catches Darcy give Gregory a quick, narrow look, but then she speaks up to introduce herself as the Baroness Westenra, and she’d like to speak to the mayor.
In Arthur’s opinion, the few people around look wary and suspicious rather than happy or convinced, but a man who was passing by with a cart loaded with potato sacks bops them a nod and tells them he’ll get him, and leaves his cart by the side of the road to go to the house next door to the inn and knock.
Someone opens the door and there’s a few words exchanged Arthur doesn’t catch, and then an older man comes out, while the one who got him goes back to his cart and gets back on his way.
The older man introduces himself as the major, James Taylor. He’s respectful when he asks who they are, and accepts Darcy’s introduction of herself and her retinue, but Arthur has never felt more like a child. A child playing pretend, and any moment now, he’s going to get called out on it and then he’ll go to prison.
If Darcy feels similar, she doesn’t show it, instead she’s all formal and haughty when she pulls out the letter and asks Mr Taylor whether he sent it.
The letter appears to make him willing to sort of believe them, and he says that yes, he did, and invites them to follow him, calls a boy (who’s really not much younger than they are) to put the horses into the inn’s stables.
They follow the mayor into the inn itself. It’s nice, Arthur thinks. It’s not huge, more like a row of small houses someone turned into one building, but it’s cleaner and brighter than the pubs he knows.
Mr Taylor invites them to have a seat at a table in the common room, offers them something to drink, which Darcy accepts with a “Tea, please,” and then seems to expect them to take over.
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Eluned said to let the men do the dirty work. She got them in front of the mayor, that’s the social graces, right? Now it’s up to Arthur and Gregory to talk to people who really are much more their social strata, anyway.
It takes enough concentration to not let it show how much she doesn’t want to be here. She can play the role, it’s like when she played out her books in her room, this isn’t difficult, she just doesn’t like it! All these people having looked at her, she hates it, she feels so uncomfortable. So she retreats into following the etiquette rules and being proper. After several long, awkward moments, and a slight look at her uncooperative entourage she asks the mayor to please let her… oh blast, what are those two? Uh, to please let her scholar and his servant know if there have been any new developments since the letter and to show them to any pertinent places to investigate.
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Scholar- Arthur feels some relief. He thinks he can be a scholar- that doesn’t mean he has to fake being an actual noble person. He’ll still have to mind his manners and language, but at least that can explain why someone obviously not high society is accompanying the lady.
Gregory being his “servant” he’s less sure about- they might’ve always kind of played it as him being Arthur’s “bodyguard” to his father so he didn’t kick him out (or think Arthur was too attached to him.) Maybe that’s close enough? Because… Arthur’s pretty sure Gregory isn’t very convincing as a real servant.
In either case, he turns his attention to the mayor, who’s now focusing on him, eek, and is looking very grave.
There have been new developments- another attack last night, and this time, it wasn’t just an animal that was killed, but the son of a local farmer.
Well, he doesn’t put it that bluntly, glances at Darcy as he says the young man “fell victim to the monster”- asks her if she’d like to freshen up while they talk about these unsuitable topics?
Darcy accepts, and he gets up for a moment, returns with his wife, who courtesies and asks Darcy to follow her next door, apologies for their modest house, but it’ll be at her disposal.
Once she has left, the mayor tells them the body of the young man was also mutilated, like the animals before.
Arthur swallows at that, but- if he’s the scholar and investigating this, then he has to see what’s there to see. And who else is going to do it?
So he agrees to look at the site of the attack, and the body of the young man and the cow that are the latest victims. Also… he takes a deep breath, because who’s he to make any demands of this man who’s in charge of a village? But, again, if he’s investigating… So he asks for what he thinks he needs for a proper investigation: If he could speak to everyone who’s seen anything or found any remains? And is there some kind of map of the area he could take notes on?
The mayor… actually looks a bit relieved? And nods, and tells him that he’ll have the witnesses sent by here, and him that map. He even asks Arthur what he wants to do first, look at the fresh attack site or talk to the people?
Arthur really isn’t keen on this dead body examination- the thought makes him queasy. It’s been less than a week since the last time he’s seen a dead body, and he could’ve well done with that being the last time ever he saw any… so he decides to get it over with right away.
Also, maybe that means he’ll have a clearer mind, less preconceptions- that sounds like something Sherlock Holmes might do? And he’s well aware Sherlock Holmes is just a fictional character and made up, but he’s about the only source for investigating Arthur has.
Yes, he’s basing his decisions on magazine copies he’s liberated from other people’s rubbish bin. It’s about the opposite of a good source.
The mayor doesn’t complain, though, and instead takes his leave for a moment to get someone to show Arthur and Gregory to the place.
Gregory gives Arthur a concerned look as they’re walking towards the other side of the village, towards farm buildings and fields and a dark skirt of trees, and then says: “You don’t have to do this, Artie.”
Arthur frowns at him- yes, so much for him remembering that he’s supposed to be the servant. The man leading them throws a puzzled look over his shoulder at them.
But… Gregory means well. Or… it’d be nice if Arthur could fully believe that it’s Gregory and he means well.
In either case, though: “…Yes, I do.”
Who else is going to do it?
They follow a rough, rutted lane towards the farm buildings, then take a turn across a field. At the back of the field is a fence of sturdy wooden boards, and a foot beyond it, a fairly dense hedge.
A section of fence wide enough to drive a beer waggon through with room to spare is gone, posts and boards broken and lying in the grass. But the hedge behind it looks normal. “This is where they found him, and the cow,” their guide explains, waves a hand at a section of the field.
At first, Arthur thinks the brown spatters he can see on the bright green blades of grass is mud- but the colour is too rusty, and the place isn’t very trampled looking.
Arthur snags Gregory’s sleeve to keep him from walking right into the blood. “Let’s look for tracks,” he tells him, with what he hopes is a meaningful look.
“Of course!” Gregory agrees.
The farmer looks at them in a way that suggests the locals already did that and he’s not sure what the two of them are going to find that they didn’t, but he doesn’t say anything.
Arthur crouches down to get a closer look- if he just thinks of this as a puzzle, it’s not so bad.
“The fence breaking must have been really loud,” he observes.
The man nods. “As Travis- Connor Travis, this is his farm- tells it, a cow was making a racket, so Simon, that’s- was,” he corrects himself, “his son went out to check. It was only the one cow, so they weren’t sure whether it was anything at all, but Simon still took the rifle. A few minutes later, they heard a very loud sound at the house, and a shot, but by the time they’d gathered all the farmhands and came out here…” He trails off and shakes his head.
Arthur nods- he’ll need to get a precise idea of how long things took, he thinks, but for now, he focuses on the… scene of the crime.
“Why don’t you go see if you can find a trail?” he asks Gregory, hoping Gregory understands that he wants him to use his cat form for it- he’s said before that he can smell a lot of things in his cat form. Whether Gregory understands or not, he agrees and hops over an existing piece of fence, pulls himself up and through the hedge.
The man’s sceptical look turns out to have been well justified, because if there are any tracks, Arthur doesn’t have the skills to find them in the grass. But whatever it was… he thinks it must have happened fast. He lets himself be shown where the body was found exactly, and where the cow was. There’s some hoofprints and cow dung in the grass, but he thinks if the animal had had time to panic or struggle, everything should be messier. And neither the cow nor the body were far from the damaged fence.
He thinks that means whatever it was is both strong and fast, and he doesn’t really like that thought at all.
When he’s sure that he won’t be able to coax any secrets out of this patch of ground, Gregory still hasn’t returned. But he doesn’t want to put off looking at the body any further, so he straightens his shoulders and asks his guide to show him to it.