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Chapter 8



"So now what?" asked Agnes eventually, breaking the silence. "I don't come here for the fun of it. I am dancer. I come here to serve, to do my duty." 

"We all do," agreed Dennis. "I can't just switch off. My skills have been honed to react, not to sit back and wait. Are we supposed to just stay home and fight the urge to be heroes?"

All eyes were on Cecil. Dennis and Agnes were speaking for everyone. When he eventually spoke, nobody interrupted, nobody questioned. He had their full attention. Even Brian had stopped eating his slice of lemon cake to listen.

"I have been dancing morris for over forty years. We have never missed a practice. We have never called off a dance-out because of the weather. We have always done our thing, rain or shine. Well people, now it is raining. Pouring. The old man was found snoring. We'd gone to bed, and bumped our heads, but now it's time to get up in the morning!" As far as rousing speeches went this was not one of the best but Cecil hadn't been intending on making it and was ad libbing as he went along. "As I explained, we have been asked to stand down. We cannot dance out as morris dancers. We cannot represent the Ring until this debacle has been resolved. But there is no reason why we can't dance out for fun. Nobody can stop us from meeting up to enjoy ourselves, and if that happens to be in a place where trouble is brewing then it would be our civic duty to act. This may be construed as treason so I cannot ask any of you to come along with me on this journey..."

"You don't need to ask!" Dennis piped up excitedly.

"I have told you all the result of the Morris Ring's decision. I have explained what we have been asked to do. I have fulfilled what was required of me. I have told you what I will be doing. I will be acting on my own accord. If anybody wishes to join me, they do so on their own as well. I am neither requesting that you do so, nor instructing you to." There was no applause, no whooping. Not even a cheer. These people were not American, they were morris dancers. There was just a silent nodding as all quietly agreed that Cecil had said what they all wanted to hear. "This meeting is over. There will be no formal practice. That being said, if anybody wants to hang around for fun... six up for Upton!" The men jumped up with more enthusiasm than they had in quite some time, all but Brian that is who was still eating his cake.



  As they were clearing away, sweeping up the splintered wood and cake crumbs, Brain asked about the stranger who had heckled them at the pub. "I know that it is in the past now, but have you seen the news about that purple guy at the pub? The Lord of the Dance?"

"I did," replied Cecil. "The press are calling him "Lot-D" for short, sounds like an auction item to me. Something about him saving a boy from drowning and helping an elderly lady across a street. Hardly newsworthy, the second one at any rate."

"I read that he's a dancer. Some new style, pirouettes and the like. Do you think he's a threat?"

"To us?" asked Cecil. "Lord no. How could one man in a purple leotard fill in for the service which we have always performed? No, he's just a flashy do-gooder with good hair."

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