The Bird People | ONC2024

Chapter Six | 1224 Words

'Nightfall brings its shadows, which disperse at morning light,
While a curse brings certain sorrows, of which there is no respite.'

WendyyWolfe

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Jamestowne, Virginia 1653

There was a darkness in the mammoth Anglican church, a pristine aesthetic that surprised Byron Dunleavy.

He stood nervously in the vestibule waiting for the Bishop and his angst grew with each passing second. He looked up into the towering ceilings, vaulted to the sky and the cold stone interior with its puritan plainness.

For whatever reason, he had not expected to see such a church here, in the Americas, where everything else was still so primitive.

Shadows encased the inner sanctum and it was from those shadows the Bishop materialized and came forward almost floating in his crisp robes and collar. Byron's eyes had not yet adjusted to the dim bowery but he stepped forward anyway to meet the Bishop halfway.

"Your Excellency," he murmured.

"You must call me Monsignor," Bishop John Lewis Swinburne extended his hand to the young Deacon, Byron Dunleavy, and he respectfully kissed the Ecclesiastical ring of the Bishops Patriarchal Office.

Bishop John Lewis Swinburne placed a hand on the shoulder of his new Procelyte. "It is both my pleasure and great relief to have you, Reverend Dunleavy," John Swinburne all but purred. "The Settlement of Pennybacker has waited a very, long time to receive a Shepherd," he smiled enigmatically.

Byron nodded thoughtfully, but before his musings went too far the Monsignor waved him toward a table.

"Come, let us sit. There are a few things I should like to tell you before your journey to the outer perimeters of Virginia."

"Yes, Monsignor. I am eager to begin my service," Byron stuttered. The Bishop seemed so mysterious and it was leaving him unsettled.

Byron Dunleavy followed his senior, Bishop Swinburne to a table where they both sat.

The Bishop poured water into a tin cup and gave Byron a long, considering look. His bright grey eyes were piercing, standing out beneath bushy white brows and a long white beard. Byron was beginning to suffer self-conscious nerves and chided himself inwardly for the feeling.

Bishop Swinburne handed Byron the cup and sat down across from him. "I'm afraid there have been some, disconcerting, matters plaguing this particular settlement. While they have had a chapel for some time, they have not been able to obtain a permanent minister."

"Why would that be Monsignor?" Byron asked, immediately regretting the presumptuous question, for John Swinburne sat straight up in his chair, leaned forward and said the most troubling thing Byron thought he had ever heard.

"I must demand complete secrecy for the things I am going to tell you, and the firm promise that you shall report back to me of any these descrepancies you discover henceforth."

Byron was shocked, and he swallowed hard but nodded mutely.

The Bishop got up and disappeared into the Sacristy and when he returned he had an ancient Bible which he placed on the table before Byron.