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We piled in and headed away from the checkpoint, continuing eastward. I didn't feel myself begin to relax until we crossed out of the Borders Controlled Area and away from the military's sphere of influence.

By the time we got back to the village it was early evening, we had lost most of the day with the hold-up at the checkpoint. Normally, I would have driven directly to the church for evening prayer, but I decided to stop first at the vicarage to drop Kiniun's luggage off and for what my father had always euphemistically described as a 'comfort break'.

I gasped as we pulled into the curb. During the course of the day, someone had daubed red and purple paint across the front door and my study window I hauled the brake lever into the locked position and wrenched the keys out of the ignition. I leapt from the car and stood at the top of the garden path. I stood stock still, my hackles raised, ears back and growling. Never before had I seen this kind of attack against anyone's home, certainly not in Newtonshire.

'What in heaven's name happened here?'

Kiniun's voice cut through my building rage.

'I don't know, yet. But, as sure as you're standing there, I'm going to find out.'

I made my way to the door. As I put my paw out, I noticed a sheet of paper had been pinned to the door frame. I ripped the paper down and unfolded it - the thick, crisp paper crackled under my claws. I looked at what was written on the sheet.

The one who rules from below the earth seeks tribute,

you, false priest, have stolen that which would feed

the earth. Return of the tribute or you shall suffer.

The consequences are far more terrible than you can conceive.

Mam lleuad yn derbyn yr afon o aberth.

I waved the note at Kiniun and Harry.

'First they do this to the house and then they, whoever they are, leave a cryptic note on my door. What is going on?'

Harry held his paws out and said in a low, even tone:

'Francis, we don't know. How could we? Just call the police. For the love of God don't do anything stupid.'

I blinked at him, frankly, stupidly and then snatched my phone out of my pocket. I dialled the emergency number and heard a click as the operator answered:

'Which service do you require?'

'Police, please.' I said. There was another click and another voice said:

'Newtonshire Constabulary, go ahead caller.'

'My house has been attacked, graffiti. And, whoever did this left a threatening note.' I could hear my voice quavering.

'Thank you, caller. May I take your name and address, please?'

'Father Francis Shepherd. The address: The Vicarage, Abbot's Road, Rayton-in-Amble, NW2 4PPF.'

'Thank you, Father. There is a car on its way to you now. Please try not to disturb anything. You may end the call.'

'Th-Thank you.' I stuttered and hung up. 'We've got to wait for the police.'

I re-read the letter; it was no less cryptic at the second glance. I passed the letter to Harry.

'I've never come across paper like that before.' I said to no one in particular.

'It doesn't feel like paper to me.' Said Harry.

'May I see?' Said Kiniun.

Harry held out the letter. Kiniun took the sheet and held it to the fading light, then, he held it to his nose and sniffed it cautiously. Both me and Harry looked at the lion askance and then glanced at one another. Kiniun ignored us and began to feel around the edges of the sheet, teasing at the rough border with a claw. He looked at us and ran a paw over his muzzle.

'This is not paper.' Kiniun said. 'Not paper at all.'

'What is it then?' I asked.

'It is, what is the word? Ah, yes, it is vellum. I thought that it has not been made in this country for centuries. It is made from the skin of an animal, cleaned and dried.'

I shuddered, the very idea repulsed me.

'Who would even make such a thing?' Asked Harry.

'I last saw vellum back home.' Said Kiniun. 'When I returned to my village after my ordination as a priest, to destroy the vellum scroll. You see, each En-gal shaman had a vellum scroll of the rites of the shaman-mages. The shaman-mages would call it an "honour" to be used for this. It was no honour; vellum can only be made from the skin of a young animal. Where is the honour in the denial of a young life?'

There was a quiet anger in Kiniun's voice, he sheathed and unsheathed his claws, flexing his paws.

'A terrible thing.' Said Kiniun.

I nodded, Harry did nothing, there was a distant, distracted look in his eyes. I was about to ask Harry how he was, when the promised police car turned the corner from the High Street. As it pulled to a halt, the scene was bleached in the blue and white lights of the car, with each flash it was as if we became ghosts, pale and unreal. It was a comfort to see the police car, the shield of the Newtonshire Constabulary within its blue starburst emblazoned on the door spoke of competence and trust.

I studied the shield as the police officer gathered some equipment from the passenger seat. The police in Newtonshire used the same coat of arms as both the Diocese of Newton and the county council: it was a shield split in half vertically with a red lion rampant on the left-hand side and a gold cross on the right, all on a blue background. Underneath was the traditional motto of the Counts of Newton: 'Iustitiam, Pacem, Legemque' - 'For Justice, Peace and Law'.

We watched as the police officer exited the car. It appeared that today was a day for renewing old acquaintances, as the officer was Sergeant Lamri; although now, she was Inspector Lamri. As she walked up the path, she adjusted the angle of her cap and then stopped dead in her tracks. I was just as surprised as she appears to be, I was standing on my doorstep with my mouth hanging open.

'I wondered if it could be you.' She said. 'That's the problem with this job, you never get to meet people under good circumstances.'

'I suppose not.' I replied, grappling for some composure. 'Still, it's good to see a friendly face. I must say: I wasn't expecting so exalted an officer as you to turn up for this. I thought that Inspectors had to do all their policing from behind a desk.'

'Normally I am deskbound,' Said Lamri, 'But, being an Inspector has its perks; so, every so often I requisition a squad car and go out on patrol. It just happened that I was the nearest unit when your call came through.'

She paused and took in the scene.

'You've got a proper mess here.' She continued. 'There's not a huge amount that can be done until the SOCO, that's Scene of Crime Officer, van gets here from Newton. I'll radio for the SOCO on duty now and then our need to take statements from each of you. Can you get into the house by another route? I don't want to disturb anything on the front door if I can help it.'

'There's a pass around the side of the house.' I said. We can let ourselves in through the kitchen door.'

'Good, I'll radio for the SOCO van and meet you in your kitchen.'

She turned away from us and began to speak softly into her radio set. I led Harry and Kiniun along the path. I was relieved to see that whoever had attacks my home had not made it into the back garden. I unlocked the door and let my companions into the house. Shortly, we heard the sound of Inspector Lamri's hooves on the patio. We all looked up as the police officer entered.

'The SOCO van is on its way, there should be a forensics team here in half an hour.'

She took a seat at the table and fished a notepad and pen out of a pocket.

'I'll have to take witness statements from all of you. Do you mind if we take your statements now?'

I shrugged, Harry waved a paw and Kiniun shook his head. We gave Inspector Lamri our statements, all variations on a theme of 'we arrived home, and found the house like this'. That was it until Kiniun gave Lamri the note from the door. She sealed it in a clear plastic evidence bag. The lion explained briefly about the vellum.

'Vellum?' She asked and Kiniun nodded. 'If that's the case, this is much more serious than I had a first thought. We could be dealing with a potential murder.'

This was delivered in a flat, expressionless tone will stop I let my head drop into my paws and started to scratch vigorously at my muzzle. It felt as if events, as if my whole life was rapidly slipping out of my grasp.

It seemed perfectly absurd: in the past few days I had been less than subtly threatened by the Lord of the Manor; had to talk one of my closest friends down from the cathedral roof; met a lion who I had only half believed existed; seen more weird stuff than I had ever imagined; and now I was possibly part of the murder investigation. I almost laughed aloud when I cast my mind back to the previous week, when my greatest worries had been getting the churchyard ready for the fête and quite how to get a few more villagers to come to church once in a while. But, instead of laughing, I sighed and put my ears back - at that point it all just felt too much to deal with. I let my nose rest on the table and sighed again.

'A murder,' I whispered, 'That's... That's...'

I looked up.

'That's not what happens in sleepy little villages!' I shouted and brought my paw down with a slam on the table. Inspector Lamri and Kiniun both jumped at my sudden anger: Harry, on the other paw, had seen this all before and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. It wasn't that my anger was not heartfelt, but it would be short lived. By the time I calmed down again, I would be what Brian Strix had always called 'killer-robo-dog mode'. After the anger, I would try and plan how to deal with the problem. I spread my paws on the table and breathed out loudly through my nose.

'Sorry, sorry,' I said, 'Rant over. What happens now, Inspector?'

'I can't do much until SOCO arrive. I expect that this will pass out of my control, I'm not with CID. I'll pass on what you've told me and then you'll need to be interviewed again so that my colleagues can build a picture of what you've been doing over the past few days.'

One of Inspector Lamri's ears flicked at the sound of an engine outside.

'Hopefully that's the SOCO van.' She said.

Indeed it was, and shortly a pair of uniformed police scientists appeared in the kitchen doorway. The taller of the two, a slightly built tawny owl, flexed her wings uncomfortably and her partner, a little rotund role who looked incredibly out of place in the dark blue of his uniform, entered the room.

'Could we have a word, Inspector?' He asked.

She nodded, and then said to us: 'Would you excuse me, I need to brief Doctor Arval and Professor Houlette.'

The inspector herded the two scientists from the room and I could just make out their shapes as they passed the window. Harry started to rattle cups and tea things, a distraction technique. Sadly, I was unable to be distracted, my mind was poring over the events of the last days. My thoughts kept lighting on isolated fragments of events, scraps of conversations, single movements and gestures. I tried desperately to work out how they could be related. The fire on the Oxfold Estate, the single minded stream of villagers (how could that be only yesterday evening? It felt as if it had happened months ago.), the knife, the Abbey, Arthur Oxfold's threats and talk of 'old ways', Gerald. These things spun around and around in my head until I was interrupted by Harry placing a mug of tea in front of me. I grasped the mug gratefully, as if it could anchor my thoughts.

In the end, it was Inspector Lamri who brought me back to reality - there is nothing more real than a copper standing in your kitchen.