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Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 7.5, Fallen Idols

Despite the lack of actual activity, Friar Arlowe still felt as though it had been a full week. Taking into consideration the constant health emergencies, dangers, espionage, and political catastrophes, the Monk was happy that the group had elected to stay just a few more hours. With Cruff out of immediate danger, Friar Arlowe actually felt comfortable spending some time outside working in Dr. Brownell's herb garden.

There was something about working in the earth that always brought the Raccoon Dog a degree of joy and no small amount of peace; it was a meditation of sorts. The feel of freshly churned earth flowing through his fingers and the simple joy involved with caretaking something as calming as plants. Back at the Monastery he had spent hours on end in the gardens tending to the vegetables, herbs, and decorative flowers. Until he had the morning to himself in Dr. Brownell's herbs he hadn't realized how much he missed it.

It was strange to find such a pleasant oasis of busying relaxation but Friar Arlowe felt blessed for it; he could calm himself and be productive at the same time. He used the physical effort of weeding, digging, and watering to let his mind wander in whatever direction it wanted, and that meant slowly compiling and organizing the many thoughts that had kept him up at night as of late... and it helped.

Cruff had been on his mind a lot, as had the upcoming confrontation with the Church. He didn't look forward to the many unpleasant possibilities of standing against the high priests and he had no illusions about the dangers they would face if they were working opposed to the Church in an attempt to free the Sisters Divine. Friar Arlowe hated the idea of Cruffington being caught up in all of it but, at the same time he realized that, despite being the young Raccoon Dog's father, he really didn't have any right to stop him from helping. It worried him regardless, of course.

His self-directed exile from the goings-on inside came to an end when Sister Aurelie stepped out the door; Aodhan was right behind. The Wolf and Cat looked to one another, exchanging some silent word as the Monk stood up to regard them. It was Sister Aurelie who ended up speaking. "You are making quite some progress here in the garden, Friar."

Friar Arlowe nodded. "I am restless... and I prefer to use my nervous energy to greatest effect..."

Aodhan bowed his head slightly, dipping his muzzle in acknowledgement. "Then you think it was a poor decision to wait longer?"

The Raccoon Dog shook his head. "No... not unless the time is wasted."

Sister Aurelie let a 'throat clearing' sound escape before speaking up. "We're leaving after lunch... wouldn't your time be better served getting ready?"

The Monk smiled, setting down his spade before approaching the Cat. He gently took hold of the Sister's paw not already held by Aodhan before addressing the comment. "Sister Aurelie, I travel lightly and I have already seen to both my own belongings and that of Cruffington. Other than the provisions the Doctor has been generous enough to offer, I can assure you that I am most definitely ready to go."

Letting out a deep breath, Sister Aurelie nodded, giving his paw a light squeeze. "I know, Friar Arlowe, and I'm sorry. I don't mean to nag, it's just--"

The Monk smiled anew. "You are restless and seek to be productive."

Friar Arlowe offered Sister Aurelie a soft hug while the Cat quietly declared. "We're all looking to keep busy... but you seem to have found your method. We're still looking for ours."

The Raccoon Dog chuckled, but refrained from addressing the far-from-ignorable noise from the previous night. He had enough decorum to simply not bring it up. Instead, he returned to his spade and picked it up before kneeling back down in the dirt. "The waiting is always the worst part, isn't it?"

The two stayed with him for a short time, talking about everything and nothing. At one point the discussion almost turned toward planning but, then again, they'd already done that... three times. In the end, the Wolf and Cat headed off onto the street; Aodhan mentioned going to the tanner to get some extra harnesses and Sister Aurelie just seemed eager to be going SOMEWHERE. They acknowledge that they'd be back before noon and then departed.

The peaceful silence of working in the dirt continued to be Friar Arlowe's only companion until the sound of the cottage door opening again and a frustrated Sir Umberto stormed out. Not waiting to be noticed, the Wolverine declared quite flatly. "Tobias is causing problems inside again."

The Monk's round ears perked up higher on his head as he sat back from the weeds he'd been pulling. "Mr. Severna causing problems? He is usually so polite and helpful... unless it involves Doctor Br--"

"It does."

Friar Arlowe brushed his paws against one another to knock some of the clinging soil free. "Oh my... how bad is it?"

The Templar grunted, leaning against the door frame. "He's following her around like a lost puppy, eager to help her with assisting the new patient."

The Monk blinked, turning to face the Wolverine. Perhaps he misheard? "That doesn't sound right... I had thought that Tobias and the Doctor did not see eye to eye."

Sir Umberto grunted, his frustration obvious in the way his Ilysean accent slid its way into his declaration. "That's changed, apparently."

Friar Arlowe stuck his spade into the soil and stood up, brushing the dirt off of his robe. "I see... and is she letting him help?"

The Templar shrugged. "Far as I can tell he's just taking up her time. She needs to be able to heal the fox and then get us moving-- she has a message to get to the Princess."

"Bat."

The Wolverine flicked an ear, glancing his way. "Bat?"

The Monk nodded. "Cruffington knows him-- the patient, I mean. Inigo. He's a bat, apparently. Clipped wings."

Sir Umberto only grunted in response. "Hm."

Friar Arlowe stepped up to the Templar and placed a paw on the man's armored shoulder. "Sir Umberto, if Mr. Severna wishes to assist Dr. Brownell and she has not rebuked him then I would let it rest. Besides, I would have thought you'd be seeking out Brody."

The Templar did a double-take. "Brody? Isn't he in the house?"

The Monk shook his head. "No, my friend... he came by some twenty minutes past. He left without a word. Aodhan and Sister Aurelie are also out, but they mentioned going to the leather workers and returning by noon... Brody-- I couldn't say. I would have thought he would have informed you of his departure."

The Templar stood up straight, rubbing the thick fur at his chin in thought; Friar Arlowe could tell that there was something on his mind. "Which way did he leave? He didn't go right, did he?"

The Raccoon Dog thought a moment about the question before nodding. "I believe he did. He had a small bag with him."

Sir Umberto did not seem to take that answer well. He stepped away from the door and jogged down the small path that led to the road. "I'm going after him. If we're not back before midday then tell Aodhan. He might have gone off looking for his brother."

Friar Arlowe considered the thought for a moment before speaking but Sir Umberto was already hustling off down the street by the time he figured out how to address his inquiry. Letting out a breath, the Monk started to wonder if the hectic pace of events would provide him the luxury of time to garden. The door to Dr. Brownell's cottage opening again gave him the impression that the answer would be no.

The white Dragon accompanying Dr. Brownell's newest guests emerged. Although Friar Arlowe didn't know him well, the Dragon seemed well-mannered and respectful; both traits were valued by the Monk. He extended a still soil-covered paw to the newcomer. "Good day... Mr. Crook, is it?"

The Dragon accepted the paw easily and provided a gentle grip where he squeezed the Raccoon Dog's wrist as they clasped arms in greeting. Only as they did so was Friar Arlwoe finally able to catch a glimpse of the surcoat the man wore beneath his duster. The Dragon did not miss the Monk's observation. "Wiesen."

The Raccoon Dog froze in place. "Wiesen? Sir Wiesen? The Techlar? You are being hunted by the Church."