Tildas Thicket

Her name was Tilda Grey, Captain Grey as she was given the honor of being the first woman Police Commissioner in the Governing country & surrounding islands. Being appointed high commissioner was given by the King, where a pinning of a medal to her uniform was a great honor. In the old days a sword was used to Excalibur Magistrates, but no longer. Her assignment from the Parliament was to re open a unsolved case of her predecessor, Sargent Howie who never returned from a missing persons investigation. The girls name was Rowan Morrison, a child reported missing from the school. Being a trained pilot the young captain managed to fly her seaplane to the island that folks told tales about being secluded with their own ideology based upon myth & folklore. Landing in the sudden clouds of fog made it seem more surreal as the morning sun filtered through the puffs as she spotted a dock gliding through the water. A young boy greeted her plane offering to tie a rope to secure it. More villagers appeared on the shore, mainly elderly males with peering eyes glinting of suspicion. Stepping out to the dock the uniformed police woman eyed the crowd. We haven’t seen the likes of such a finely dressed Lass! A row of grey beards seemed to talk as one. Some smoked pipes questioning her appearance with stern expressions. My name is Captain Grey, I come from the main Island. What do you want with us? Im looking for Sargent Howie, he never returned from his investigation of a girl named Rowan Morrison. Rowan Morrison! The men looked at each other pondering the name. Little Morrison isn’t a girl anymore, she’s married & runs the sweet shop up on the hill. The men shook their heads in unison. Where is the shop located at? I must speak to her at once! One of the old men whistled for the boy who was fishing on the dock. He grabbed his cap leaving his fishing pole on the dock. Ben, the Captain wants to visit the sweet shop.. You can show her can’t you? Sure Mr Grady, I’d be obligated to help, follow me. The walk up the hill through the trees on a cobblestone road didn’t take long while Ben played his pocket fife making music out of time. Here’s the shop my Lady. There standing on the edge of the street was a white wooden house with stained glass windows & topiary bushes trimmed into animal shapes. Thank you young man. Ben grinned & took off down the road. Opening the door to the shop was like stepping into a magical place as above the door tinkled crystal wind chimes within the aura of scented candies that smelled of lavender & rose. Jars of goodies were stacked high in assortments of flavors & shapes all speckled with homemade ingredients. Off to the side of the store a young girl was holding out her tongue while a tall woman applied a small chocolate toad to her throat. There, now he’s got your cold taking your soar throat away! The woman removed the folk remedy putting it into a jar. Looking up at the Police commissioner, she blushed upon noticing. You must be Rowan Morrison.. I am indeed! Her thin face studied the official intently while the young girl skipped away. How can I help you? Do you remember meeting this man. Snapping open her shoulder purse, she produced a photo of Sargent Howie. Taking the photo in her hands she looked stumped & gave back the picture. He was a Police commissioner who was investigating your disappearance when you were just a girl. Well I haven’t disappeared since I am standing in the same house I’ve lived all my life! Someone must have made a prank call! Who else can I talk to? The only responsible Magistrate on the isle is Lord Rasputin who lives in the castle on the other side of the isle. It’s a days walk, with a horse you can make it by mid day. I haven’t a horse, don’t you people have cars? We don’t fancy modern technology as it ruins the spirits as Lord Rasputin made automobiles illegal. Rowan’s eyes were concerned as she didn’t want to see a noble woman officer in need, stranded. You can take my horse if you promise to return him by morning. Agreed.. Leading the was to the stable she opened the barn where a suitable horse stood feeding on grass giving a née. Helping with the saddle felt natural as Rowan instructed how to find the Castle. Ride back down the hill taking a left at the fork, past the school, then a few minutes more. It’s a big place with fountains & courtyards.. You shouldn’t miss it. If she slows down, give her a little paddy, & I’ll stuff some green apples in the saddle bag. Taking the fruit from her apron, the ride was complete. Leading the horse out of the lantern lit barn that smelled of hay Tilda waved goodbye. Take care! Riding past the school she heard the voices of children singing while dancing around a maypole. In the house there was a bed, & on the bed there was a Lass & on the Lass was a Laddie & on that Laddie he gave a seed, from the seed, there grew a child.. The song orchestrated by the schoolmarm was a rhyme that obviously taught fertility, in a manner she hadn’t been educated on. She kept riding as the sun grew high. The grounds to the keeper of the island became visible as ponds holding swans were placed around fountains having fresh green lawns & gentle weeping willows seeming to bow along the path leading to a high fortress. There was something glimmering within the greenery that caught her attention. The suns reflection made her want to investigate. Stopping the horse to get a look, she found what not she wanted to find. It was an old wreckage of a seaplane, much like her own hidden in the thickets. Opening the door, she searched for items, then inside the dashboard was an ID. Covered with moss, quickly she saw the face of no other but the missing Sargent! So, they did know of his existence.. Taking the ID of a wallet that included a police badge of a star, she now wanted to find the isle Lord immediately. Riding to the entrance she tied the horse to a fence noticing a group of what looked like naked pregnant women leaping over a fertility idol. She had to find the Magistrate. Knocking on the door decorated with columns of embossed wooden animal heads she was greeted by the opening of a peephole door. A wiry mush dash appeared through the door. It seems as if I have a visitor! The mush dash dripped of beer with the voice behind it sounding of drunkenness. Please sir, Lord, I have come from the main island! I wasn’t expecting anyone, let alone a woman policeman! I’m not a man, I was sent by the King to find a missing comrade of ours. Oh you were, I’m King around here! Please let me say my peace, I beg of you. Oh Alright, but don’t try nothing funny, are you armed? Well I do carry a small pistol. Put it through the door hole, & don’t try shooting me! She handed over her side arm, a ladies revolver decorated with an abalone handle. Taking her prize weapon he slowly opened the door. There, dressed in a plaid kilt stood the man who owned the isle. His red messy hair tangled over a ruffled shirt. Well, now you see me! I’m the one & only Winter-eye Rasputin! Why sir are there naked pregnant women dancing in your yards? He swayed from his drinking stature in his royal surroundings. Those are my wives who celebrate the ritual of fertility. All of them your wives? I am their lord & husband to as many as I like. And what about the seaplane buried in the thickets? Belching from her astonishing words, he wasn’t sure on how to answer. Your people have been covering up for the missing Sargent. She held out his police badge. He studied the photo in dismay then added, I think he crashed the seaplane my dear. Tess all.. His grin curled with his mush dash. Filtering in the castle room decorated with swords & tapestries stood costumed servants wearing masks of wild animals such as stags & boars. Interesting that you have visited me, I could use another wife! Never! Lady I’m telling you we need someone for a sacrificial offering to the harvest! Leading her to a hall of paintings he pointed to barrels of wine tossed into the sea giving a abundant new season. Each wife I marry brings much more fruit, so much more.. His eyes grew narrower with his thick red brows hinting of deceit. Your a crooked man Lord Winter eye! Am I ? Turn around & have a look at the idol. Slowly the woman Captain turned to look out the window. See that structure high on the sea cliff ? That could be your new nesting home! His eyes turned red with fire. She had never seen a carved wooden idol before. It looked more like a giant Russian Matryoshka doll! You have an appointment with the sacrificial goddess! It was as big as a building with its enormity looming down onto her consciousness. Letting out a shriek of fear at its monstrosity, Lady Captain bounded for the door out. I’ll get you fine Lady. Rasputin leaped after her only to falter from drinking too much John Barley. Taking her pistol he shot it at her, too late as she was already on her horse. Galloping as fast as she could, she could see the sun setting that made her ride narrow. He didn’t follow as he didn’t want to waste his time. Riding back to the sweet shop, she led the horse back to his barn. Dropping the apples for him to eat, she sped away. Making it to the dock as the sun set, she turned the ignition. It had only taken a day to find the truth about Sargent Howie. While flying above the isle the burning idol smoked through the trees. She didn’t want to think if the Sargent had been sacrificed. Fearing for someone else’s life, she decided not to report what she had found. Nightmares of haunted animals made her never want to return.