August
Work at the dig site had begun winding down. By contrast, the work on the new buildings was kicked into high gear. Many of the new buildings were taking shape. What had once been little more than iron work was now highly styled living quarters and pavilions that made up the Olympic village. The media presented the buildings as marvels of cultural ingenuity and green technologies. They did love to praise the construction for embracing Mossflowers diversity and lore. Conveniently, it was ignored that after the games these would be sold off as high priced flats.
Dr. Lockben had rarely been seen the past few weeks. He was usually tucked away in his office, taking calls and complaints from all sides. The Olympic committee was breathing down his neck wanting his team moved as quickly as possible. Then there was the museum complaining that they hadn't the space to store all the artifacts and remains. The university wanted to know why the dig was costing them so much money, but this the hare politely ignored. Dr. Lockben was a seasoned researcher, and a highly qualified department head. He could handle administration duties, but as with any job there are always surprises.
Lockben was never known to be caught off guard. He always had a firm grasp of matters at paw. This all changed when the hare received a copy of a formal letter sent to the government of Mossflower from Salamandastron. True to his word Lord Urthbriar had been in correspondence with Mossflower's government and Olympic committee regarding preservation of the site. The hare had received little information as to how well these conversations went. When the letter arrived he could only assume it was good news, even in the twenty-first century few wanted to cross a badgerlord.
Opening the crisp envelope, his eyes quickly darted over the letterhead and preamble. Ears stiffening Lockben had to re-read the document twice to be sure he had read it correctly. Salamandastron wanted the remains of Long Patrol hares returned for burial? It couldn't be, it went against every historical and anthropological rule known to all hare-kind. With whiskers twitched he read it a third time. No, it was correct. Lord Urthbriar wanted the remains removed from storage and flown with full military honours back to the shores of Salamandastron.
8888888
Bulfie pulled up to the dig site. He had been in and out the past month. Most of his evenings were spent in the dingy basement of the Mossflower National Museum recording data and identifying remains. His days were otherwise occupied, that was until today.
"I am officially single." He announced throwing his paws wide.
Wally glanced up from where he was working; he looked tired both physically and mentally. Despite his weariness he couldn't help but make a saucy remark to his long time friend. " What'cha telling us for? Beth's too young for ye' and me an' Dan ain't gonna take you."
"There's always Jenny, Wally why not call her and let her know." Dan teased, knowing full well the historian weasel was not one of Bulfie's favourite creatures.
Bulfie set himself to work. Taking up some un-needed stakes and wrapping the twine around them. "Sadly mate, she's taken. I heard at the museum last night that she's marrying her partner. Not that I'd ever have a chance with her. "Bulfie placed the back of his paw to his forehead pretending to be distraught.
Beth shook her head, times like this she felt like the responsible adult. Her time in Mossflower was drawing to a close. They had uncovered what they could, and now they were on their last week. Reflecting back on the season, she felt it would be odd not arriving at the ridge each morning. "Can't we do more digging?" She asked.
Her father patted her shoulder. "Sweet heart, we've done what we can here. Now it is time to wrap up and prepare to go home."
Wally said nothing but nodded, echoing the squirrel's statement. She glanced to the ferret expecting much the same. However, to her delight he seemed to agree with her.
"Aw, come on mates. Just a bit more can't hurt. I'd like t'make a few more holes for those over stuffed voles to cover. " He smirked wickedly. "Missie, dig where y'likes. Us three can continue the dismantling. If she finds something she finds something, if not, oh well."
Wally was about to protest, but being a father himself he was a bit softhearted towards the teenagers desire. Letting Beth use the remaining tools, he left her to her own devices.
Beth stood looking over the turned up soil. Permission to dig where she pleased, it was highly unorthodox, but exciting. Taking a deep breath of fresh woodland air, she glanced over the emerging Olympic village. The once peaceful ridge now echoed with sounds of voices and machinery. As a squirrel she found it a little unsettling looking at buildings meant to mimic the design of trees. It seemed especially strange when trees were cut down for this purpose. Back in Toronto the urban squall seemed to know no bounds. At least city planners had managed to maintain some green space. Mossflower however had managed to maintain much of the woodland charm. Although a good deal of forest was removed during the industrial revolution, many beasts continued to hold onto the identity of woodlanders. There were roads and trains and more buildings but there were still mighty trees which may have stood in the days of warriors, there were clean rivers and streams, there was fresh air. Upon arriving Beth had found the rental cottage quaint and amusing. It was so old, yet had all the modern needs and desires. She had assumed places like this were the exception, but they were not. Most residence of this region lived in similar homes. To her utter amazement, some squirrels still lived in dray-style homes. These were houses build in and around living trees. Beth's first question upon discovering this was: how do you get a toilet in a tree.
Mossflower had a unique relationship with nature, unlike anywhere else in the world. The only exception was this Olympic village. It was beautiful, but it didn't seem to fit the area. With this in the background, the young squirrel picked her spot to dig. Ten paces from where the first body was found she put in her shovel. She used a garden spade, she didn't have time to carefully uncover the soil and look for tiny details. Her muscles had strengthened throughout this little adventure. When she first arrived it was a struggled to manage the soil. Now she cut through it as if it were butter. Not far off Wally and Bulfie dismantled the tripod and sifting screens they had used to look for small artifacts. The pair sang, or rather attempted to sing Whiskey in the Jar. Every few lines they would get into an argument as to the correct lyrics.
"The line is: The devil takes the women for they never can be easy."
"No mate it's: The devil take the women 'cause they're oft times deceiving."
"No it isn't Bulfie, where'd y' hear that. "
"That's how I always sings it."
"Well yer singing it wrong."
"Can't be."
"What d'ye mean y'can't be? Y'are. The line is: The devil take the women for they never can be easy."
"No it ain't. I'd know, I'm a ferret so I can't sing this song wrong."
Wally shook his head and continued dismantling the frame. They were singing again the argument forgotten, until another questionable line came up.
"Jenny is darling and sporting." Wally said matter of factly.
"What?"
"In the song. Jenny is darling and sporting, not darling and handsome. "
"Well in me version she's handsome. " He stuck his tongue out, again settling the disagreement.
"What are you five?"
"I figure it works with Rinny, can't hurt to try." Bulfie winked.
Beth had at this point managed a fair sized hole. Pulling out three more shovels of soil, the spade hit something. Brushing away the earth with a paw, she sighed, only a rock. About to give up discouraged she noticed there was something strange about the stone. There were holes made in it. Normal rocks didn't have holes, brushing more earth away she could make out what looked like lettering. "Umm… Dad, Wally, Bulfie. Look at this."
The three came over, alerted by the excited tone in the girl's voice. Dan stooped down running a paw over the exposed rock face. "Looks like some sort of marker."
The others nodded in agreement. Taking out shovels they tossed all archaeological rules aside, and focused on digging out the stone. Between the four of them it was fully exposed in short time. Bulfie brushed away the last of the dirt, emptying some of his water bottle over it so the lettering could be clearer.
Beth couldn't help but swell up with pride. It was her find after all. Her father smiled. "Well done Beth. What a marvelous way to end off the dig."
The young squirrel helped clean away the stone. "Well what is it. What do the words say?"
Bulfie studied the carved letters. Some of the words were a little faded with time, but getting gist of the wording he explained. " It is a monument. It was made to honour those who died at the battle. There is a poem as well, but Lockben is better with linguistic than I. He might be able to give it a better translation. These holes, it looks as if they were made to hold flags or something. Whatever it was, they're long gone now. Might have been made of wood, or valuable metals and later taken. "
There were nods and murmurs of agreement.
"You mean I actually found something important." The young squirrel squeaked in disbelief.
"I should say, this is the marker for the site. Lockben's ears are going to twist in knots when he finds out about this. " Wally said, reaffirming Beth's new found sense of achievement.
Again more squeaks of teenage delight were heard.
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When Dr. Lockben's office phone rang, he looked at the caller display with an overwhelming sense of impending doom. Wally's mobile number frequently streaked across the small display screen. As of late it was met with disruptions. Delays at the dig site, conflicts with contractors, media that showed up out of the blue, all things that gave the hare a headache. Bracing himself he picked up the receiver.
"Yes, Lockben here." He used what he deemed to be his department head voice. Something that only seemed to be used whenever he inhabited his office.
On the other end of the line, Wally explained the last find.
"Are you quite sure." For some reason, he couldn't help but feel the otter was playing a cruel trick on him. Perhaps a scheme Bulfie came up with, Lockben wouldn't put it past that ferret to plot something along such lines.
Wally confirmed the truth, encouraging Lockben to come and see for himself. Of course duties kept him in his office. But he had every intention of investigating for himself. Hanging up the phone Lockben smiled, for the first time all day. In the records sent over from Salamandastron he had read of such a monument. When it hadn't been found, he assumed that it had been lost in time. He never dreamed it would be found, much less in the condition it was. The flag and massive pike-axe were gone, lamentable, but otherwise not surprising. That it survived with most of the lettering still legible truly made Lockben's week.
8888
After a long day at the office, the hare was pleased to return home. His wife Claria stood ready in the hallway, dressed to go out and purse in paw. She glanced at the bemused look on her husband's face. "You forgot it is Tuesday again haven't you."
Lockben blinked, mulling over in his mind the importance of the evening.
"Every second Tuesday…" Claria prompted. When her husband made no reply she finished the explanation. "Every second Tuesday we go to the Woodsorrel's for Bridge."
He rubbed his temples, how could he have forgotten. "I suppose I ought to change." He was still wearing his sports coat and casual tie he wore around the office. Claria fixed his tie, kissing him affectionately on the cheek. "Nonsense, you look absolutely splendid. Come along dear, we don't want to be tardy."
A game of cards was the last thing Lockben wanted to do. However, he couldn't stand to see his beloved Claria upset, and she so looked forward to cards with Mr. and Mrs. Woodsorrel.