Tuesday Tales: It’s Picture Time.

Well spring has arrived and with it flooded basements. Why does that always happen at the most inopportune time?

Welcome to this week’s edition of Tuesday Tales. As is our policy, once a month, our post is based on a picture.  I’m continuing with The Price of Courage, Canadiana Series, Book Two. here is the picture I selected from those offered.

And here is the 300 word post. Enjoy.

There was something even sadder than usual about a winter funeral. It was unfinished. After the mass had been said, amid much weeping and lamentation, Roger Leclerc’s body was placed on the flat bed of a sled and taken to the cemetery, but he wasn’t interred. Instead, his rough wooden coffin was placed on a slab inside the stone building where it would sit with God alone knew how many others until spring when the ground thawed, and he could be buried.

The guests who’d attended last evening’s party had come for the funeral. Now, one couple at a time hurried to the sleds for the treacherous ride home while the weather held. The sun shone weakly through the trees, turning the snow-covered frozen river into a scene of beauty where none should exist.

Another senseless death. The attack on the armory and barracks had been staged to look like a Mohawk attack, but like Izzy’s kidnapping last summer, the perpetrators had made several errors.

Luc, his Huron scout, had pointed out the most blatant of them. The knife found in Leclerc’s back was an Abenaki weapon, not a Mohawk one, despite the arrows found at the scene, something else that didn’t fit since only Leclerc had been there. Who had the arrows been meant for?

The pseudo Mohawk had stolen some small pelts and other leather goods as well as muskets, powder, and shot, but they’d left the costlier furs behind in a secondary storage. They’d obviously been after something specific, but what?

“Will any of the others be coming back to the inn?” Henri asked.

“No. They’ll take advantage of the weather to get home. Not all of them believe the attack was staged.” And they were scared. Scared men made mistakes—dangerous mistakes.

That’s it. Don’t forget to check out all the other posts on  Tuesday Tales.