The Grimm Dossier

Chapter 7 - The Village in the Swamp

West Coast,
Devonshire, 
Dartmoor, St George,
November 3, 1898, 8:10 p.m.

The musty smell of the carriage, mixed with sweat and a hint of bog on their footwear made the walls of his patience thin. The long journey was sapping his strength and the event in the forest was wearing on his nerves. It was a feeling of ambivalence. His instinct screamed that it was better to turn around and run away. But at the same time, there was this strange excitement. The curiosity drove one on and a sense of duty towards those who were even less equal to the things that might be going on here. It was a puzzle to be solved and Kyle loved mind games. He enjoyed it when his mind hit corners and had to seek new paths. But he was most exhilarated when he found the solution at the end. It was a great feeling to be smarter than the others in the room. And there was so much more at stake here than just an assignment. That was another reason why restlessness fluttered invisibly to his fingertips.

At some point, Kyle leaned his head against the carriage wall. He listened to the sounds outside and his thoughts. Numerous minutes flowed by, then the darkness around them cleared. The mist no longer bumped up against countless rows of trees or dense patches of reeds and marsh grass. Instead, it poured onto flat rolling hills and the forest finally released the clattering vehicle and its occupants from its clutches. Here the veil no longer hung so high and Kyle would have loved to jump up from the uncomfortable bench, exulting, because light shining from windows, smoke from chimneys and the silhouette of the small village finally came into view.

The carriage bumped along the path, with piles of earth piled up at its sides. Rectangular lumps of poked-out peat sod leaned against posts there, and the mist tumbled as a white-silk waterfall into the road-wide ditches from which the blocks had been lifted. In the little light and blurred by the veil of mist, it almost looked as if the flat fields were littered with graves.

The flat pastureland and drainage ditches remained behind them. The coachman slowed his pace as the first houses passed them. The homesteads were scattered around the village and a good distance apart. Flattened paths and small avenues led past wooden pasture fences and half-high, partly collapsed walls. Overgrown with lichen and moss, the border guards looked as if they had been carelessly splashed with paint. Next to them lined up the small cottages covered with reeds and thatch. Most of them were brightly whitewashed with rounded roofs.

It was a typical small peasant village, not particularly large and inhabited by a manageable community. A well-trodden path, which could hardly have been called the main road, ran through the tiny settlement and turned into a few side streets leading to backyards, back entrances, or gardens. Many of the shutters were closed and in some, even the lights were already extinguished.

They're already folding up the pavements here at eight, Kyle thought contemptuously and sat up a little straighter on the carriage bench. For someone like him, who came from London and thus the ceaselessly throbbing heart of the Empire, this was more than unusual. The person sitting next to him glanced at him. He hid the small flame of amusement at Kyle's behavior, which at that moment reminded him of a dog staring out of the window, too quickly for anyone to notice.

The cart rattled noisily through the muddy, unpaved streets. The clattering only dissipated in the silence of the village at night until they reached the square. A young woman in an apron was shooing an old woman away in a harsh tone. Her gaze seemed to linger only briefly on the carriage, then she went on her way and turned into one of the side paths. The carriage made a half turn around the small fountain in the tiny market square and finally stopped in front of the building in front of which the old woman had just been driven away. The large, ornately curved letters "SKIRRID INN" on the façade above the entrance door immediately announced to everyone that this was the inn. At last, he would get out of that dreadful box!