The Fall of Eheubryd Reeves

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

It was a warm, calm evening in March of 1881, when the Welsh vixen Eheubyrd Reeves stepped paw to warm water on South Islands Eastern Shore. She had come to the Spontoon islands three years ago as a teacher. With a ten year contract secured by her fathers employer and she had done her very best. But under the repressive colonial rule she had found that her best wasn’t what the school master really wanted. Eheubryd had tried to save herself for marriage, had done all that she could to avoid the dark hearted bulldog. Yet as always, the English had there way with those they oppressed. Even their own citizens. Now a ruined woman, the vixen knew that she had no future. No one would want an impure woman as their wife. Mistress certainly, but never wife. She was ruined, her life destroyed. All for the pleasure of one drunken headmaster.

For two days she had reflected upon her options, finally coming to the decision that living the next seven years as a drunken headmasters bed toy wasn’t acceptable. Yet she could not leave, for she was paid but a stipend until her contract ended. Just enough to live on, perhaps take holiday to one of the outer islands when school was out. To return home? That was not possible. With no hope left, she had taken paw to paper, writing a long letter to her family in Cardiff. Within it she explained what she had done and why. And her choice of departing this world. It had gone out in the afternoon mail. Now she stood on the sands of South Island, looking out at the forbidden shore of Sacred Island.

It was said that no one who stayed on Sacred Island overnight returned unchanged. That those not wanted, evil or of soiled soul, were driven mad or never seen again. It was she knew, certain death for one as soiled as she to remain overnight. Still she had no future. Once her situation was discovered, and she was certain that it would. Her contract would be voided for morals. For no one would believe that the gentle, greatly respected bulldog Arthur Cunningham had ever forced himself upon any woman. Why he was married, with four pups of his own. What would he need with some young, penniless miners daughter. She would find herself abandoned on this colonies beach, not a farthing to her name. Rejected by her society, forced to make her living by being available to those who desired her. It was not a way of life that Eheubryd could stomach. To sell herself was not something that she could ever do. Not even when death was the only other option. Her mind made up she stepped black hose covered foot into the waters. Let Sacred Island decide her death. In that at least, she would not be a suicide.

It was a long swim for the vixen, for her heavy black wool swimming costume pulled at her. Pulled down towards the oceans floor nearly thirty feet below her. Death by drowning though was not her intention. She was a strong swimmer, the distance was not that great and it was beginning of slack tide. Still it took almost all her energy to make her way from the safe shores of South Island to the forbidden shore of Sacred Island. As she swam she thought of the day, taking her mind away from her bodies repetitious movements.

She had started the day with an outrigger ride around the forbidden island. It had cost her much of her meager funds, but then she had no intention of needing more. That trip had shown her the shoreline, letting her decide exactly where the best place to land would be. She had ignored the natives constant drone of information, his stories, warnings that to step upon the island was to risk madness. Upon her return she had purchased a light meal, arranged a room at a hotel on Accounting Island that she could barely afford, taking her time in that room bringing her affairs together. A letter to her family, several others to friends, the school where she had trained to be a teacher, her priest, even the English government. That last she was certain would be a waste of time. After all, she was but a contract teacher. Then she had packed her few things, leaving them upon the bed. Abandoned. A quick trip by outrigger to South Island with a small bag in paw, her swimming costume. Then making her way to the beach directly across from Sacred Island. All that was left was to wait for slack tide to begin.

Sand striking her knees pulled Eheubyrd from her thoughts. Blinking her eyes she found that she had arrived upon her destination. A few hundred feet South of her intended target, yet still well within the margin of error that she had given herself. Standing slowly she staggered forward, making her way to a pile of aged stones where she could sit. Water streamed off her swimming costume, its weight dragging at her. She was near exhaustion she knew, but to remain on the beach and she was certain to be spotted. Dragging herself back to her feet the vixen made her way deep into the vegetation before falling to her face. Unable to move further.

His Majesty’s Ship WARSPRITE entered Spontoon Harbor on the morning of April 3^rd, 1883. Refusing all signals her captain dropped anchor at a point guaranteed to block the main channel, thus disrupting all commerce until the ship moved. Her guns rolled out swiftly to cover all approaches, quickly informing the local branch of the British Government that this was not a friendly visit. By noontime four longboats had landed at Government Island, lead not by some high level officer. But a wolf in well pressed suit, his fox manservant walking just behind him. Two star nosed moles in the robes of His Majesties official service marched with them.

That force split as they marched. Half, lead by a competent looking Captain of the Marines heading for the seat of power in Spontoon. The other half, lead by that gentleman, moved directly to the school. A school that they quickly surrounded as the gentleman, his manservant, one of the star nosed moles and two very angry looking marines entered. Then all returned to normal, or at least as normal as it could be. Considering the situation.

“Headmaster Herman Link Fallon” the Lord announced in a loud voice as he burst into the Headmasters office.

A portly bulldog looked up from the papers he had been reading. “What manner of abuse is this sir” he demanded. “Have you an appointment?”

No smile came to that wolf’s face as he held out his right paw. Almost instantly a rolled bit of parchment, was placed into that paw by his manservant. “From the King himself” he answered in a dark voice. “Would it be to your desire to read it?”

Standing, the bulldog, who was used to dealing with unruly students and broken teachers, pulled himself together. “I most certainly would. And your name sir?”

“Lord Blackstone. Lord William Phillip Blackstone” the wolf supplied, placing the rolled parchment into the bulldogs outstretched paw with a sharp slap. Waiting in silence Lord Blackstone watched the bulldogs expression change as he read.

“This warrant my lord” the headmaster asked after he finished reading it. “Destruction of maidens morals, enslavement, dealing as flesh sellers. Murder? Lord Blackstone. This is a school for children. Not some back alley waterfront pub.”

Reaching across the desk the wolf easily snatched his warrant from the unresisting administrators paw. “That we shall see Headmaster Fallon. That we shall see. Master Charlton. Will you be so kind as to witness this mans interrogation?”

Headmaster Fallon’s expression fell into that of absolute hopelessness when the star nosed mole stepped into his office. “Most assuredly Lord Blackstone. I would be delighted.”

That night aboard the WARSPRITE two men stood at a rail, looking out towards Sacred Island. “They say she went there to die” Lord Blackstone said to his manservant. “It is on record that no one who spends the night returns, or returns so mad that they must be put down. Thirty natives risked their lives, their sanity to search for her. No body was every found. Just her torn swimming costume. Lowell, I am most sorry. Your oldest daughter. She was under my protection. Protection that proved most useless I fear.”

“My Lord...” the fox started, only to have the wolf raise a paw, stopping his words.

“William tonight Lowell. And from now on. This day, these things. My failure. It is the least I may do for you.”

“My lord” the fox continued, ignoring those orders. “She was not sold, as were so many others. She brought to your attention...”

“Through your own words” the wolf reminded his servant.

“She brought to your attention what was occurring in this place My Lord” Lowell continued yet again. “You acted immediately, though the House of Lords dragged their claws The Crown did not. My Lord. It was through your personal action that she reached that goal of being a teacher. It was the love of her life. Even though she had so few years as such, I believe that they were the best years of her life. Now you have come to avenge her. To crush this base filth. He who so harmed my daughter so as to cause my dear Eheubryd to take her own life. He will hang for it. He and those who were with him. Because of her sacrifice My lord, no other unsuspecting daughter will be broken to the collar here. As a father. As a father I could ask no more.”

“You could ask for your daughters life back” the wolf corrected gently.

“A corrupted school. A corrupted government. Lord Blackstone. This place is not for honest Englishmen. This is not the first English government to fall into corruption, nor the first English school. But here. In this paradise. I cannot understand.”

Turning away from that dark island where none dared remain overnight Lord Blackstone knocked out his pipe. “Those guilty will feel the hang-mans noose by weeks end” he promised. “I will see a new government installed. Perhaps it is time to give the natives their own paw. There is no money to be made here, no good crops survive and the natives are so lazy as to be more trouble than value. We have better anchorage not far away. It is no longer a place fit for honest Englishmen I think. But that black school I will burn with my own paw. Burn it to the ground. A new one will be built elsewhere. I think this Moon Island the best place for it. It feels right. Goodnight old friend.”

“Good night My Lord.”

On Spontoon’s highest point two furs looked down on that deadly warship. Both wore nothing but grass skirts and a single flower in their hair. One wore hers on the right, the other on her left. Both also wore the fur markings of a Priestess. “It is your father who is there” the older woman reminded the younger. “Will you go to see?”

The younger, a now striking vixen who would turn any furs eye, until they looked into her haunted eyes stood silent for a long time. “That life is gone” the vixen once known as Eheubyrd Reeves answered. “He is of another time. Another place. We are apart.”

“Ah” the older hound sighed in understanding. “But is father.”

“Eheubyrd Reeves is dead my teacher. My friend” the vixen corrected. “She died a cold lonely death. Still her death brought this, an end to the trafficking of helpless young women. Perhaps, with luck this will be the end of British rule upon our land.” She turned away, beginning her walk down the mountains slope. Behind her the hound watched in silence.

Yes, Eheubyrd Reeves had died. With her death had been born a new Honored Mother. An Honored Mother who seemed to have no emotion. Turning to look towards Scared Island the hound composed a prayer, knowing that by now her friend was out of hearing. “We are so few” she whispered, knowing that the spirits could hear her as well as though she were standing upon the island itself. “I thank you for her, but please. Please allow her love. A Priestess cannot truly serve if she cannot know love.”

Then she followed her friend down the mountain. Tomorrow would be another long day of servicing shrines. There were so few Priestess’s now. So very few.