Play@YSDC

While this may seem like a pair of tragic yet natural deaths, albeit in miniature; Lepus mutters an incantation to detect evil, lest more sinister forces are at play.

"I would need to get them to a laboratory to find out more about how they died," says Henry. "There I could perform a dissection."

jp1885 wrote: ↑Fri Nov 26, 2021 7:54 pm

While this may seem like a pair of tragic yet natural deaths, albeit in miniature; Lepus mutters an incantation to detect evil, lest more sinister forces are at play.

There does not appear to be anything evil associated with the demise of the two felines.

Mr. Handy wrote: ↑Sat Nov 27, 2021 2:16 am
"I would need to get them to a laboratory to find out more about how they died," says Henry. "There I could perform a dissection."

It is quite possible to place the specimens within one of the carrying sacks with which any wise journeyer is supplied. There remains the problem of dealing with the natural process of decay, which may prove unpleasant.

It is notable that, when it comes fairly close to the cadavers, the curious lizard grows somewhat agitated.

"Might they have killed each other?" Eliza asks. "Do beasts make war as men do?"

“Aye, ‘tis possible,” answers Lepus as he chews over the conundrum.

“That might explain when yon lizard be nervous, if they be forced to fight.”

"It is rare for animals to war with their own kind," says Henry. "Ants have been known to go to war with rival nests over territory or resources, but otherwise war is man's domain. Animals may fight each other sometimes, competing over food or a mate, but the cats show no sign of visible injuries. It is most unusual. We should keep the lizard far from them."

This being done, the travelers proceed.
There is nothing particularly remarkable about the day's journey, save for the presence of a large raven, that appears to take an interest in the party, flying above their heads and landing oft to observe them from a safe distance, occasionally producing the unmusical sounds for which such creatures are noted.

At last, our weary pilgrims reach the city of Exeter.
Upon entering the community, they see a group of women, evidently of that class of persons who must earn their bread through labor, engaged in a heated discussion, the subject of which is not immediately obvious.

Knowing better than to get into the middle of an argument, Lepus hangs back and listens in with his keen sense of hearing.

Henry stands back and listens, wanting to know what this is about before deciding whether or not to intervene.

The discussion appears to concern a certain measure of meal, one person stating that it was not ground sufficiently, and was adulterated with earth, the other denying this, and contending that the first person would, in any case, be unable to distinguish between flour of fine quality and such grain as is fed to fowls. (This latter individual would appear to be married to a local miller.) Each of these two persons has allies of her own sex by her side, who participate in the argument, as well as offering comments on the opponent's ancestry, countenance, and habits. Mere words appear to be insufficient to make strong enough cases, as the involved parties begin to make use of their hands and feet, pulling and striking in whichsoever way they see fit.

"Mayhap I could make yon meal palatable, given time to prepare an amulet," Lepus whispers. "Though your Lordship might have the authority to settle the matter beforehand, and my dear niece the physical presence to keep yonder harridans apart!"

"Indeed," says Henry. "With a combination of social and physical presence, we should be able to put a stop to this scuffle. Then we can resolve it as you suggest."

The combatants are easily drawn apart by the forceful efforts of Eliza, who, as so often peacemakers are, cursed rather than blessed by those served by such. None are so bold as to offer blows to the giantess, no matter how they might jeer at her appearance.

To the males present -- the mighty woman having evidently been sent on this errand of mercy at their command -- the miller's wife cries "Think you Farmer George himself? I'll not have stranger say yea or no to me, and I'll fight my own battles."

"Flour seems hardly worthy of a battle," says Eliza.

"We do not wish there to be a battle at all," says Henry. "We can settle this without a fight. We are a neutral third party, not favouring one side or the other. If you will allow us to inspect the merchandise, we can judge its quality."

Hanging back slightly, Lepus starts work on the talisman, weaving in a spell to purify food and drink.

This being done, the flour is seen to be of the finest quality, fit for the baking of dainties for royalty. At this revelation, even the miller's wife is surprised, although she attempts to hide this behind a mask of pride. The complainant, unable to deny the purity of the meal, is forced to withdraw with a few muttered words.

"Fairly done," the miller's wife admits. "Well met in Exeter. Whither bound, strangers?"

"London," says Henry. "We came to Exeter to board a coach bound there."

While the others discuss their travels, Lepus merely chuckles to himself. The miller's wife may have avoided being accused to bulking out her flour, but would now be beholden to maintain the standard that Lepus' magic had set!