The Passing Bell Tolls for Thee

5 The Barn

Drew waited outside the barn for April. He hissed as he remembered the disastrous events of Lughnasadh. After he occupied Ben's body, he went to his time-ravaged old body, now holding Ben's soul. As usual, the new occupant was disoriented and terrified by the change. Ben waved arthritic hands and tried to stand. He fell on his face.

Drew hauled him up and plopped him in the wheelchair roughly. Ben cried out at the pain in his arthritic joints, and shook in the chair, moaning. Drew held a water bottle to his mouth and forced him to swallow. "The water has a drug that will make you groggy and placid for several hours."

Ben said in Drew's hoarse voice. "What's happening? Why am I looking at my body? My voice. Sounds like you."

"It's your voice now, Ben. You're in Drew's old body. I lived as Drew Vere Ramsey, now I'll live as Ben Muir for a few months. Not the original plan."

"Who are yo--?" Ben's now old voice faded away. His eyes blinked as he struggled against the drug.

"I suppose you are curious. I was born Drew Francis Ramsey in 1631." Drew Vere's old body jerked as Ben struggled to stand.

"You can't fight it, Ben. You haven't a sacrifice to reverse the transition. Hydd won't serve you." The old man in the wheelchair gasped for air. "Don't worry, I changed my—your, heart medicine to a weaker dose. It'll keep you alive for a while, but soon that old pump will give out."

"I'll tell April, the doctor, someone."

"There's a drug among your meds that will keep you disoriented. You'll sleep most of the time. I'll see that April isn't around you much."

Drew took a deep breath for the first time in years, enjoying the strength flowing in his temporary vessel. "I planned to take April Waverly as my new vessel, and you were to be the sacrifice. Inconvenient when April's sister-in-law died, and she returned to South Carolina for the funeral. That old body you're in won't last till Ostara, the next best time to move my soul. So here we are." Drew laughed heartily.

"Why? Why would you want the Waverly woman? She's a nobody. A stranger to Wiltshire. How could you be born in 1631."

"Ahh, history. The Oakton Druids keep Hydd bound to King's Oak, and whatever supernatural world he calls home. They've done so since the Romans left and the Christians took over. Hydd was the son of a Druid priest and a Roman woman. In the few rough years before the Christians took over, he made a deal with an evil spirit and terrorized Wiltshire. He sacrificed people, sheep. Stags. Did as he pleased. The druids held a great ceremony one Lughasadh. Several times a year they sacrificed a sheep or something to keep Hydd bound. It worked often enough."

Drew sat in a chair and looked at his old body with satisfaction. "The first Ramsay came with the Conqueror and married the Saxon heiress of Oakton. Duncan Smythe was his warden, managing the forest. About 1100 Duncan and his great dog, Bernad, ran Hydd down and bound the monster to the Queen's Oak. The druids kept him bound till the Protectorate. The Puritans chopped down the Queen's Oak, calling it superstition."

Drew grinned widely. "Hydd ran free in Wiltshire. People, sheep, horses, cows, dead. Illness. With the Restoration of Charles II, the druids gathered to bind Hydd. I joined them, for I was Master of Oakton, and near death. We bound Hydd to a new oak, called the King's Oak, and life was better."

"How does that put you here, in 2022?"

"Ahhh. I had a 20-year-old son, Liam Vere. I summoned Hydd and made a deal. A life, a soul, to feed his hunger, in return for putting my soul in Liam's body. He accepted. A traveling tinker was the sacrifice, and I lived the next 51 years as Sir Liam. I've taken over my heirs ever since." He grinned with selfish pride. "I am Master of Oakton for three-hundred-fifty years."

"But April? Why her?"

Ben's face reddened with anger. "That old body was my last heir, another Drew. I had him raised and educated in Ireland, so no one here would suspect the change of personalities. I never knew he'd had mumps, and was sterile, or I'd have married and had another heir. He was the last Ramsay. April will be mistress. When she is my host, I'll marry, and have heirs, and continue."

Drew's old body sagged, his head fell forward, and he snored. Ben jumped up. "Work to do."

He wrapped Mark's body in the white cloth and hid it by a holly bush in the woods until he could dispose of it in the bog. He returned to the grove. He rinsed the stone off with water and bleach. He hurried because the druids were due soon.

When the druids arrived for the Lugnasadh festival ceremony, Drew's body was slumped in the wheelchair, snoring. The druids held their ceremony, then lingered to talk until Drew could have chased them away. In Ben's body, he had no authority to make them leave Oakton, but he said he had to get the old man home. He made sure all the druids were on their way and followed the Bigwoods to the Lodge.

He left Drew's body, with Ben mumbling incoherently in Mrs. Bigwood's care and returned to the bush where Mark's body was hidden. He drove with the body to a bog on Oakton. He weighted the corpse and threw it in the mire, watching till it sank from sight, hidden forever with the others. He cursed, realizing he'd left the silver flask with the corpse.

He drove to the Lodge at top speed, until the buggy hit a root and flipped on its side. The bell rolled out and was lost. He searched for an hour but couldn't find it in the dark. He gave up the search and walked back to the Lodge.

In the morning he returned with Mr. Bigwood and got the buggy running again. He ignored Bigwood's frequent curious glances and sent him back to his farm work. Try as he might, he couldn't find Hydd's bell even in the daylight. He swore, cursing Hydd, slamming his fist on the buggy, and kicking the King's Oak until he cooled down. The bell was required to summon Hydd. If he couldn't find it, he'd have to dedicate a new one. Not easy, but he'd do it if necessary.

Drew returned to the Lodge. Tomorrow, he thought, I'll get a metal detector and look for the bell. He showered in the master bedroom shower, soaping his new body with expensive wash.  In the bed, Drew's body, the prison of Ben's soul, was strapped in the four-poster bed to keep him from climbing out and falling. Ben's resistance to the sedative was impressive. Drew pinched his old body's cheeks until Ben opened his eyes.

"Let me go." The drugs were wearing off. Drew poured water in a glass and added three drops of the drug. He looked at Ben, struggling to remove the belt holding him down. He added a fourth drop and forced the water down Ben's throat. After a few minutes Ben dozed.

Drew watched his old body as it snored. "Ben, Ben, Ben. You must go. The sooner the better." He'd come up with a plan. He was good at planning after all the centuries. He left Ben snoring in Drew's body and walked downstairs. The loose board creaked loudly.