Field of Death: Vice

The bitter smell of incense filled the air as he spoke the long string of familiar Latin words, his back turned to the church as he completed the final prayer of the mass. His head lowered as the bell began to ring, calling out to the community in celebration.

As after each mass, he turned and quickly stepped the few paces through the door that lead to the rooms behind the altar. The room painted in pristine white; the scent of mass lingered even there

"Dominick!" he calls as he carefully removes the sacred robes of his calling.

"Aye, Father," Dominick appears as he always had, from seemingly nowhere and with the same two words in reply.

"I shall be visiting the Tonnar family this evening for dinner. Will you have my carriage ready for me?"

"Aye, Father," the voice of the old man now heard as he walked away.

"Better yet," the priest calls out toward the servant, "I shall want a horse to ride. I see no reason to burden a carriage man on this day of rest."

Only a mumble of reply could be heard from where Shamus now stood, straightening his finely cut sleeves. He looked in the mirror as he finished grooming himself and a slow smile met his lips.

~~~

"What're ya talkin' about, laddy?! Are ya daft?"

The old woman's voice had always bitten through him like a cold breeze. When Travis O'Donnell had first come to live here to meet and be with his father, Tuckian, his teacher's harsh words and stern looks upset him. He was even known to cry on a number of occasions, but he had become resilient to her sharp edges. He knew there was a nice person in there. She had shown herself once when he fell in the garden and she comforted him with an oddly soothing voice.

Her name was Sandel Ursa Hopkins, but she made Travis call her 'Miss Ursa'. His mother had asked her to move here when they had come to live in Camelot. He was just a little boy then, though. He was nine now and he knew what was what.

"No, Miss Ursa. I am not daft." A reasonable response to her question.

The old woman stared at him before shrugging and speaking in a low grump, "Wull, I think ya are."

Travis smiled and sat back down, as it would seem he won this argument. He always knew when he won an argument because she would stop yelling.

"In all my years of teachin', I don't b'lieve I ever had a child so disagreeable as you with yer studies, Boy." She sat down in her seat and stared at him again, "Yer father and uncle, both, were arn'ry, but you got a special spark." After a pause, she almost grinned and leaned forward, "You're doin' very well. Never stop questioning, boy. That's how we learn and grow." She slowly reached to take his hand in hers, her fingers cold as they clasp his tightly.

Travis nodded to this, feeling the importance and weight of the statement by the look in her eyes.

She squeezed his hands a moment longer then smiled only slightly, a certain spark of encouragement adorning her face, "Now, if you could just rub off a little on that cousin of yers." She smirked and turned in her chair then looked back with a wave of her hand, "Go on! Go play!"

Travis didn't hesitate to gather his books and parchments then scurry toward the door, "Bye, Miss Ursa!"

The old teacher shuffled some papers in front of her, not turning to look at him and reveal the tender smile on her face.

~~~

"You're horse is ready, Father."

"Thank you, Dominick," the priest said with a glance up from his work, a pastime he'd taken up long ago.

"What're you working on today, Father? Another toy for the Tonnar lass?"

Another silent nod to the old man and then he paused to look up at him, "Woodworking has always been my one passion. I'm certain the Lord would forgive this singular vice."

"Aw, Father. The Lord don't mind a little carving now and then, does he?"

The priest smiled with a slight shrug as he packed the woodworking instruments into his satchel and stood, "I should think not, Dominick. I should think not."