[Mkguild] Landing in a New Age (1/5)

[C. Matthias]

Hey everyone!  I've started writing new Metamor 
Keep stories again.  This next story is spaced 
out over five days, and ends in the New Year (708 
CR!).  It begins the day after Last Tale of Yajakali ended.

So, without further ado, here is the first day of 
the new tale.  If during the course of this 
story, I have used anyone's characters 
inappropriately, or I have messed up some bit of 
the timeline, please let me know and I will correct it posthaste.

Metamor Keep: Landing in a New Age
By Charles Matthias

Day 1 - December 27, 707 CR

         Duke Thomas Hassan woke from pleasant 
dreams to discover a strong arm laying across his 
chest.  Momentary alarm faded into blissful 
remembrance.  It was no dream.  He opened his eye 
and regarded the equine brow laying on the pillow 
facing his own.  Grey eyelids remained closed, 
while long scalloped ears lay folded together, 
and thick, supple lips pressed together beneath a 
gently breathing pair of nostrils.  Thomas stared 
at her, joy in his heart.  He was married.  He was a husband now.
         His mind tried to recall the previous 
day, but so much of it was a blur to him 
now.  After the wedding they’d help a massive 
reception with hundreds of Keepers and his other 
Vassals in attendance.  The Great Hall of Metamor 
had never been so filled in all his years.  And 
then their carriage had driven through the city 
to the cheers of all.  Another boisterous dinner 
followed as the winter evening chased everyone 
indoors.  But then, when they retired to the 
Ducal suites, Thomas and Alberta finally had the 
moments together they’d yearned for.  And with an 
intimacy so achingly familiar, they consummated 
their marriage in a bed which had never admitted any but the lords of Metamor.
         And now in that bed they lay, faces 
limned by a soft magical light left to watch over 
them.  Dawn would not be for another few 
hours.  Thomas would not be needed for some 
time.  He wished to spend every moment he could 
with her.  And as he thought it, Alberta’s eyes 
flickered open, and her nostrils flared with a 
satisfied whicker. “Good morning to thee, my husband.”
         “Good morning to you, my wife,” Thomas 
replied, rolling onto his side and cupping her 
chin in his hoof-like hand. “It is so good to say 
that.  I don’t think I shall call you anything else.”
         “But I dost love to hear thee speak my name, my sweet Thomas.”
         His tail twitched in excitement, and he 
leaned forward, brushing his lips against her ears to whisper, “Alberta...”
         She slipped closer, her chest meeting 
his, hide rubbing against hide, legs entangling 
and hooves clacking beneath the sheets, dragging 
them into a desultory mess. “Oh Thomas...”
         Together, the newlyweds reminded each 
other in the winter darkness just what their marriage now meant.

----------

         Five days remained in 707 Cristos 
Reckoning.  In years past, these days were often 
the least stressful for Duke Thomas and his staff 
because there was little to do.  Preparations for 
a small event honouring those who had fallen in 
the previous year would have been completed by 
this point.  The snows would have shut out all 
but the most dedicated of merchants.  Everyone 
who could would hide indoors and live off the 
provisions gathered the previous few months until 
the Spring thaw opened up the trade routes 
again.  It was a time for merriment, relaxation, 
and huddling together for warmth, something 
accomplished far easier now that many had personal fur coats.
         But as Thomas reflected, it was not 
always like that.  Last year, Nasoj’s attack had 
shattered the season and left many dead.  There 
was still much to do to complete the rebuilding 
from that awful time.  And now this year he had 
the unenviable task of seeing to the safety of 
his vassals as they returned home, and dealing 
with a glut of merchants who’d braved the winter 
to reap great profits from his wedding.
         So, to his regret, there would be no 
more rest for either him or his staff until after 
the new year had come.  Alberta understood, and 
was content to wait another week before they 
began planning their procession through the 
valley and perhaps even some of the towns outside 
the radius of the Curse.  He promised her he 
would spend as much time with her as he could, 
but she seemed to understand that his 
responsibilities as Duke would intrude and bade 
him go to them before they came to him.
         So, still energized from his morning 
hours with Alberta, Thomas donned his woolen blue 
surcoat and breeches, and made his way to the 
chambers of his Prime Minister.  He gleefully 
noted the eight guards standing outside his 
bedchamber door.  Four for him, and four for his 
wife.  There was an extra set of pages too.  He 
bade one go and fetch something for Alberta to 
eat, and then his retinue followed him through 
the brightly lit halls of Metamor.
         Malisa answered the door herself and 
hugged him around the neck. “Oh, Father, I’m so 
happy for you!” She grinned and beckoned him 
inside. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that!”
         Thomas laughed and hugged her in return. 
“Thank you, Mal.  Thank you. It is... I don’t know how to describe it.”
         “I’m surprised to see you up so soon,” 
Malisa admitted.  She gestured at the half-eaten 
meal of bread and cheese waiting interrupted on 
her table. “Have you had something to eat yet?”
         “Not yet, but I’ll attend to it 
shortly.” Thomas accepted her offer of a chair 
and then gestured for her to continue eating. 
“We’ve had a lot of good news in the last few 
days — some of it so good it’s been frightening — 
and we need to start getting things back to 
normal here.  Our scouts are exhausted, our 
resources are stretched, and our vassals will 
become surly if we do not see them off.  And if 
I’m not mistaken, there are a few important 
decisions we postponed until after the 
wedding.  I’d like to tackle as much of this as 
possible now while the iron is hot.”
         Malisa nodded and swallowed a bit of 
cheese. “A very good suggestion.  Might I also 
suggest that you spend some hours over the next 
few days in open audience?  Many will want to 
congratulate you, but many will also have matters 
they wish to bring to you.  You haven’t been 
available these last few weeks, and your people need to see you.”
         “Serving them as Duke you mean.  Yes, 
that is a good idea.  We’ll start tomorrow with that.”
         “As for the scouts and the armies, I’ll 
send word for Copernicus, Jack, George, and 
Misha.  Together we can discuss how best to 
arrange the rotations so every soldier will get 
their needed rest.  I’ll do that this 
morning.  Thalberg is already seeing to your 
vassals who I believe will start their journeys home by noon tomorrow.”
         Thomas nodded and tapped his thumbs 
together. “I’ll visit him after we’re done here 
to go over those arrangements.  Both Alberta and 
I will be there to personally thank them for coming.”
         Malisa tore off a piece of bread but 
held it in her fingers. “Master Lidaman will want 
to meet with you soon to discuss the financial 
obligations we incurred to make sure our vassals 
did stay after the blowback from Marzac’s magic 
made the Curse act strange.  I’ll arrange the meeting.  Who should be present?”
         “Just three of us, and Thalberg if he 
can spare the time.  And bring one of your 
scribes who maintains the ledgers.  I can never 
follow the arcane discussions of budgets, debts and obligations.”
         She smiled knowingly. “Of course.  There 
is also the matter of the Breckarin nuns.  They will need an answer soon.”
         Thomas shrugged his shoulders. “I 
confess I’ve not given them much thought.  I 
don’t see any harm in letting them stay.  Where did they want to stay?”
         “They requested that they be allowed to 
build their convent in the city.  They have asked 
for nothing other than permission to take over a 
few buildings that we’re never repaired.”
         “Well,” Thomas mused, “if all the 
owner’s are dead and they’ve no family, or if the 
family is willing to donate them, then I don’t 
see why not.  We cannot offer to help them either 
with workers or materials.  Make sure they understand that.”
         “I will,” Malisa popped the morsel of 
bread in her mouth and hastily chewed. “I don’t 
think there is anything else that can’t 
wait.  I’ll send some messages to move things along.”
         “And I’ll go speak with Thalberg,” 
Thomas said in agreement.  He smiled to his 
adoptive daughter. “Thank you, Mal.  I couldn’t do any of this without you.”
         “And you, Father,” Malisa returned the 
warmth. “I think married life agrees with you.”
         “And I with it!” He laughed, rose, and 
gave her one last hug. “I’ll see you again in a few hours I’m sure.”
         “Until then.”  Thomas parted from her 
and left, his hooves only lightly treading upon 
the carpets.  The weight of responsibility had never felt so light.

----------

         Grey clouds filled the sky from one 
range of mountains to the other.  A bright patch 
spoke of the morning sun but it could not 
penetrate the sky’s thick winter raiment.  Every 
building had a border of snow that had been swept 
from the streets, most still white, but some 
dirtied from frequent travel and far too many 
horses.  The chill deadened the overwhelming 
aroma of the city, but they could still detect a 
panoply of animal musks that both amazed them and unsettled them.
         Kurt Schanalein was used to seeing the 
many different forms that Keepers came in, but he 
still marvelled when he spotted a creature that 
he’d never seen before.  Some of them Tugal knew 
as they were beasts of the wintry north, but many 
remained a mystery.  For Kurt the real novelty 
was the snow and ice, something Tugal teased him 
gently about as he pushed her wheeled chair about 
the city.  They looked for nothing in particular, 
but it would be the last time they would have 
alone together, and so together they explored.
         Tomorrow Kurt would begin the return 
journey to Breckaris with his soldiers.  Tomorrow 
Tugal would begin helping the nuns find a place 
for their convent.  But today they had each other.
         “After spending these last few days 
here,” Kurt said softly as they passed by a 
badger who smelled of onions, “I don’t know how 
I’ll ever find wonder in Breckaris.  It just seems so plain now.”
         Tugal lowered her head slightly, the 
postulant’s hood concealing her face. “I’d never 
seen the sea before until I was taken to Breckaris.”
         “True,” Kurt admitted. “But it doesn’t 
have the snow and it certainly doesn’t have the people.”
         “It has a different people,” Tugal 
replied, though her voice was faint. “And snow is 
beautiful, but most of the time it’s just cold.”
         There was an edge of bitterness to the 
words that Kurt hadn’t heard in her voice in a 
long time. “Are you feeling well, Tugal?”
         “Aye.  I’ve been thinking ever since we 
came here, that I’d never really seen these 
people as anything but monsters.  But mostly, something else.”
         When she didn’t say anything more, Kurt asked, “What is it?”
         Tugal sunk lower in the chair. “They may 
look like monsters... but I was a monster.”
         Kurt nearly tripped over his feet, but 
he held steady and kept the chair moving forward 
over the ice-slick stone road. “You aren’t the 
same person now, Tugal.  Not by far.”
         She sighed. “I know.  But if not for you, I would be.”
         Heat rose to his cheeks and he pushed 
on, ignoring the curious stares of merchants and 
Keepers as they passed through the market 
district.  In Summer he knew the place would be 
boisterous and the noise unbearable.  But now 
there were only a handful out haggling over 
prices.  He hoped they wouldn’t overhear their 
conversation. “I only did what I did because I 
wanted to save my father.  I didn’t know who you were at all.”
         “But you saved me too, Kurt.” Tugal’s 
voice gained in warmth. “I can never repay you 
for it either.  I know Breckaris will be blessed 
with your rule when that day comes.”
         He still wore his soldier’s uniform 
instead of the finery due him as the heir to the 
duchy, but he knew she spoke the truth. “You’ve 
saved me too, Tugal,” Kurt replied, slowly at 
first, but with increasing confidence. “You gave 
everything to stop the evil controlling my 
father.  I didn’t.  And I’ll never forget that as 
long as I live.  I’ll never forget you.”
         She turned in her chair, soft feminine 
cheeks white in the winter air, blue eyes 
breaking the veneer of frost. “Nor I you.  I’m 
sorry we must part, because I see you will one 
day be a better man than I was.  But I have my place now, and you have yours.”
         “I hope I can return to this place and 
see how you and the sisters fare.”
         “You will,” she replied 
confidently.  She turned back to the street and 
pointed toward the city gates. “Take me there, if 
you would, Kurt.  I’d like to see everything one 
time with you before the day is over.”
         The young man nodded, moving his feet 
just a little bit faster to show her everything that was Metamor.

----------

         Thalberg settled his massive bulk down 
in the cushioned chair behind his oaken 
desk.  His ponderous tail slid through the wide 
hole in the back, and savoured the warmth of the 
crackling fire only a short distance behind 
him.  The Steward of Metamor, cursed by Nasoj’s 
evil spells to be half-man and half-alligator, a 
river and swamp dwelling creature that could not 
be found natively for over a month’s journey to 
the south, poured himself a tumbler of wine as he relaxed.
         Metamor had survived the first day of 
Thomas’s new married life, and for a few minutes 
he could relax.  There was still so much to be 
done now that he needed to attend to two sets of 
servants; Thomas’s were already well established, 
but now he had to divert a portion of his staff 
to see to Alberta’s needs.  No matter how much 
the Steppelander protested, she would not make 
Metamor look poor in neither the eyes of its 
people nor its enemies.  She would be a Duchess, 
true and noble in both attire and spirit.  And it 
was Thalberg’s job to supply her with her servants who could do just that.
         And that was only one of his many 
duties!  He sighed as yellow eyes surveyed the 
array of papers, maps, schedules, and plans he’d 
stacked on his desk.  Some of this he could 
delegate, and first thing tomorrow he’d determine 
which tasks they were.  He lifted the tumbler to 
his long jaws and tilted it back.  The warm brew 
streamed across his broad tongue, splashed 
against the backs of his numerous fangs, and then 
seethed as it sank down to his gullet.  Long 
practice kept any of the froth from spilling out 
the sides of his jaws.  The pleasant warmth 
soothed his nerves and helped his muscles relax.
         He’d long since accepted his lot as a 
reptile.  Those who’d remained human and many of 
those who’d become beasts like himself could not 
help but feel a primordial fear when seeing the 
Steward of Metamor for the first time.  Some 
never overcame that instinctual fear.  He made no 
apologies for using that to the Duke’s 
advantage.  But it came with it costs. He no 
longer had any taste for vegetables, which made 
his job as head of the Kitchens that much more 
difficult.  But the most distressing was that he 
had almost no tolerance for the cold.  With the 
exception of the Summers, he could never leave 
the city without running the risk of falling into 
a torpor and dying.  He rarely even left the castle.
         And with the promise of an unending 
stream of responsibilities before him in the 
weeks ahead, that was exactly what he wished to 
do.  How he wished he could take just one evening 
to go to the Deaf Mule and drink and laugh with 
friends.  And how few they were!  Most could 
never understand how the work of Metamor’s 
Steward was never done.  He knew what was said 
about him behind his back by those had made his 
life and duty all the harder.  But it only rarely 
bothered him.  His loyalty ever since childhood 
was to the house of Hassan and to 
Metamor.  Nobody could ever take that away from him.
         Even if he wished he could have a night to himself from time to time.
         Thalberg downed the last of the tumbler 
and rumbled deep in his chest.  There was no 
sense bellyaching; he had work to do.  He pulled 
the nearest stack with a green-scaled paw hand 
and lowered his snout that his yellow eyes might peruse the letters.
         Somebody knocked on his door.
         Thalberg sighed, set the paper aside, and bellowed, “Come in!”
         The door at the opposite end of his 
chambers opened and in stepped a skunk whose fur 
was all white.  She wore a woolen cloak that 
mostly held her tail down over road-worthy tunic 
and breeches.  Thalberg recognized her 
immediately as this was not the first time she’d 
come to his office seeking aid for a newcomer to 
Metamor.  She’d been the first of the refuges 
from plague-struck Bradanes that had come to 
Metamor seeking a cure for their ailment.  Once 
an aid to the now dead Lady of Bradanes, she had 
become to that displaced people their unspoken 
leader.  While her people were welcomed with 
gratitude at Metamor, they often became yet 
another task for Thalberg to tend to.
         “Good evening, Kozaithy,” Thalberg 
managed to say as he rose from his seat. “To do 
what do I owe the pleasure?”  Despite being 
covered in fur, she was quite comely.
         Kozaithy inclined her head respectfully 
and stepped into the room. “Forgive my intrusion 
at so late an hour, master Steward, but I know 
you have been very busy and this was the only time I could find you alone.”
         “And I’m going to be busy for some time, 
but I can spare a few minutes for you now.” 
Thalberg pulled his red cloak tighter about his 
middle.  Despite the warmth of his chambers, he 
did not like exposing his scaled-hide any more 
than he had to when around others. “Tell me what brings you here.”
         “I seek your help for one of the people 
of Bradanes who has just succumbed to the 
Curse.  The weather and the plague had made her 
very weak when she came here, and now she has 
been changed into a beast and will need somebody 
to help her understand her new body.”
         Thalberg grunted and leaned his knuckles 
against his desk. “I assume you’re asking me 
because this woman is a reptile like myself?  Why 
not ask Copernicus for his help.  He’s a Follower as are your people.”
         “Aye, and he has spoken with her and 
showed us how to keep her warm.  But I thought of 
you because she is also an alligator, master Steward.”
         Surprised by the news, Thalberg 
straightened, long tail pressing against his 
legs. “An alligator?  I see.  There are very, 
very few of us in the Valley, and no others at 
Metamor.” He sighed, knowing it was the right 
things to do, and in as friendly a voice as 
possible, added, “I will do what I can to speak 
with her, but I cannot give her more than a few 
minutes of my time, and perhaps not even that for a few days.”
         Kozaithy folded her paws before her and 
lowered her eyes. “I was hoping that she might 
find employ with your staff.  She also served in Lord Bradanes’s house.”
         Thalberg let slip a hint of irritation. 
“I cannot employ all of Lord Bradanes’s old 
servants.  There is plenty of work to be found in 
the city amongst the tradesmen.  She will do well 
as a reptile apprenticing to one of the 
smiths.”  Kozaithy lifted her eyes, green as bold 
as his scaly hide, and stared at him. “What did she do for Lord Bradanes?”
         “Whatever was asked of her.  Her father 
was milord’s Steward before his passing.”
         “Perhaps I could find a place for her on 
my staff,” Thalberg mused.  Depending on what her 
father had taught her, she could be very helpful, 
once he knew she could be trusted.  It was worth 
looking into. “I still cannot see her right away, 
but I will make time in the next few days to 
visit her.  Where is she and what is her name?”
         “She is staying at the Cathedral with 
the others who’ve only just arrived.  Father 
Hough will bring you to her.  Her name is Miriam.”
         Thalberg nodded thoughtfully and then 
lowered his snout, staring straight down it 
toward the skunk. “Thank you, Kozaithy.  You may 
tell Miriam that one used to being an alligator 
will be by to see her soon and help her find her place.”
         Kozaithy smiled, her tail tip flitting 
back and forth. “Thank you, master Steward.” She 
bowed and backed toward the door. “I will tell her the good news at once.”
         “One moment,” Thalberg said, stretching 
out one arm to bade her stay. “Please tell Miriam 
that no matter what she thinks, she is not a 
monster.  She’s just an alligator.  They are not 
monsters.  And don’t let anyone flinch from her in fear.”
         The skunk’s green eyes narrowed, but she 
nodded in understanding. “We have already been 
filthy lepers.  I do not think you need to 
worry.  But I will tell her what you said.  Good night.”
         “Good night.” Thalberg watched her 
leave, and then sat back down in his chair.  It 
groaned beneath his weight, but for a moment, he 
felt none of it.  Slowly, his yellow eyes turned 
back to the stacks of paper.  He poured himself 
another tumbler full of wine and resumed his beloved duty to Metamor.

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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias


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