carry on cthulhu part four

 

It seems that the air around Gently Bottoms, fulsome as it may be, lent itself to peculiar dreams. Or perhaps it was the excitement and restlessness stirred up by my first foray into the archeological world. Whatsoever the impetus, i dreamt that I was standing outside the mansion, still wearing his excellencys rather florid paisley pyjamas. The same spectral mist as before had crept in from the Downs and I could see Mr Grimes standing beside me wearing, in the logic peculiar to dreams, a white cowled robe.

"It is time sir" he said, and set off across the manor houses expansive back lawn, fading into the mist as he went. I do not know why, but I feared to be on my own, so I started to follow him. I saw dark shapes in the fog that eventually became clumps of trees as we reached the landscaped portions of the garden, but there was no time, and it was difficult to tell how long we'd been walking, save that occasionally Grimes turned and beckoned me to continue. The the mist began to recede and we were next to the hunting lodge. There were two lines of robed men standing in front of it, the voluminous cowls hanging down over their faces. They were chanting in a low monotonous drone. It sounded like an incantation and I tried to make out the words, something like: Ptang Ygrrh Tsthhl Yig.

Sorry about that, my typewriter got jammed.

The chanting continued for a while, then one of the figures stepped out of line and pulled back his cowl. It was Count Godley.

"No no no" he yelled. "Your doing your Ptangs when you should be doing your Tsthhls. Try to get it right will you. I don't want to have to explain this shoddy performance to the Ancients Beyond the Stars, they're tetchy enough as it is. Lets start again."

There were a few groans and grumbles, but the chanting restarted and continued until Godley was satisfied. As it reached its apex, Godley raised his hands and called out loudly, "Bring forth SHE, who gave birth to a thousand young, the mare who pleaseth the multitudes beyond the stars", at which point a stout formidable but womanly figure stepped out of the hunting lodge, her robes garlanded with flowers and pungent herbs. She pulled back her cowl to reveal her matriarchal features, casting a stern gaze over the gathered throng.

"Alright Godley, tone it down, there's no need to make me sound like a total slapper. Is it here?"

A third figure stepped forward and pulled back their cowl dramatically (this is something they really seemed to enjoy doing). If this had not been a dream I would not have been able to account for it, for the man was Hardy Ramsbottom, assistant dean of the library at my very own Ginantonic University! it was he who had directed me towards the dread Woblinoblicon, which he now held in his hands!

"And the lamb, is he here too?"

The gathered throng turned towards me, and I felt Grimes take a firm grip of my arm.

"Excellent" said the matriarch, "for I am set and ready for excessive mating!"

I woke up in a cold sweat. I must have been sweating profusely, for my pyjamas were soaked, as though I had actually been out in a fog! But when I looked out of the window the night was clear. How to explain my nocturnal emissions to his excellency? It was quite embarrassing. I got up and changed into my day clothes, hanging the jammies up to dry. And how to account for the aching all over my body. I felt like I'd been trampled all over by a herd of angry bison. I was limp and completely drained, in every conceivable sense.

When Grimes came in with my breakfast he seems relatively unsuprised to find me dressed and also curiously concerned for my welfare.

"And how is sir feeling this morning?" he asked solicitously.

"A bit under the weather if truth be told Grimes. I spent the night before last in a tent, and perhaps the damp air ... I seem to be labouring under some sort of malady."

"Ooh yes sir, I've seen people labouring under malady before and they always feel weak afterwards."

"Er, yes. Something to do with the country air eh Grimes?"

"Its something to do with an air alright sir, you'd be right about that."

"Tell me Grimes. You don't sound native to these parts, How did you come to be in Count Godley's service?"

"Right you are there sir. I was a parson at one time, doing a spot of missionary work out in the near east. I'm afraid I fell into somewhat ungodly ways out there, and if it hadn't been for meeting Count Godley, out there on a diplomatic mission ...he saw that I was on a terrible path sir and took an interest."

"So you went from ungodly ways to N.Godleys ways, is that right?"

"Ha ha ha. Very good sir."

"Its understandable that you might have lapsed. Ive heard the position of missionary becomes quite dull after a while"

"I think it was more of a parson fancy sir."

"Ha ha. Very good yourself Grimes. Well I feel a little better. I think I'll try some brekko and then set off back to the encampment. I've already encroached excessively on the houses hospitality."

"You've been a very accomodating guest sir. I'll let his excellency know you're ready to depart."

Count Godley was waiting for me as I made my way downstairs from the guest wing.

"Oh dear," he said. "You've been a bit feeble by all accounts."

"Oh no no. Its just these country activities have left me bent out of shape a little. A bit more time learning how to handle myself and I'll spring right back."

"Thats good to hear. Well, I hope it was worth it Mr. Bodkin. Its not every day someone looks through our annals and finds something interesting."

"Oh, i found them fascinating .. a little weathered by the passage of time perhaps, but still with much to offer for the curious."

He once again apologised for Lady Godley's absence, explaining that, as an adjunct to the previous days grousing, she had gone down to the village, where they knew how to stuff a plump bird properly. It was this delightful image of rural interaction that stayed with me as I drove back to the encampment.