[Mkguild] Landing in a New Age (4/5)

[C. Matthias]

And here's the last two days.

Metamor Keep: Landing in a New Age
By Charles Matthias

Day 4 - December 30, 707 CR

         Misha Brightleaf, head of the Long 
Scouts, put the wax seal on the final report and 
set it in the pile of letters to be delivered to 
all those who needed to know.  Stealth would be 
by later to pick them up.  The fox glanced at the 
rest of his desk, and to his amazement, found 
nothing on it but the remnants of his 
half-forgotten meal.  Caroline had given him a 
biscuit from the basketful she’d bought from 
Gregor that morning, but he’d only managed half 
before diving into the unpleasant management that 
came with his position.  Crumbs scattered around 
the jagged edges where his fangs had rent the 
bread, all waiting to join the other half in his gullet.
         The fox stared at the biscuit 
marring  the otherwise orderly desk, and 
stammered in surprise, “I’m done!”  He blinked a 
few more times before finishing the biscuit — it 
still tasted warm and fresh despite being four 
hours old — and then brushed the crumbs into one 
paw and licked it clean.  He leaned back in his 
chair, the tip of his tail brushing the carpeted 
floor, and laughed.  He rested his foot paws on 
the edge of the desk, wiggling his toes and 
staring at the black claws. “I’m really done!”
         For the first time in weeks he didn’t 
have anything he needed to do.  He could spend 
some time working on his clocks, or perhaps he 
could take Caroline to a nice dinner 
somewhere.  Maybe he could go soak in the tubs 
for an hour or two.  If Madog would show his 
face, he could do any number of things.  Or 
perhaps he could just lean back in his chair like 
he was doing now and savour the limitless 
possibilities of an hour or two of free time.
         Like a the snap of a trebuchet, the 
knocking on his door brought an end to his good 
mood. “What is it?” h called out, sighing with resignation.
         Padraic popped his head inside, the 
golden rings in his ears tinkling. “You’ve got a 
summons from his grace, Misha.  Just now.”
         Misha rolled his eyes, put his foot paws 
down, and gestured at the stack of letters. “I’m 
on my way.  Tell Stealth to deliver these when he arrives.”
         Padraic glanced at the stack and 
nodded.  His eyes met the fox’s and then sunk his 
ears even lower. “Is something wrong?”
         Misha held two fingers close together so 
that the claws were almost touching. “I was this 
close to having a free hour.  This close!” He 
sighed, and trudged past the rabbit who nodded in 
sympathy.  He’d better find out what Duke Thomas wanted this time.

----------

         “And I tell you I have every intent on 
rebuilding that warehouse,” a man of large 
bearing and firm hands assured Father Hough. “I 
just haven’t had enough business this year to make it worth the effort.”
         Father Hough nodded and sipped at the 
tea he’d been offered when he’d entered the man’s 
shop.  Hamish, once a woman of moderate 
proportions but now the thundering force that 
kept his husband’s tannery in business now that 
he was but a boy no older or larger than Hough, 
crossed his arms and nodded firmly as if to emphasize the point.
         “I’m sure you’ll recover your losses in 
time,” Father Hough assured him, smiling the 
cherubic grin that the curse had bestowed on him. 
“And you will one day have a warehouse again to 
store your excess and perhaps even to expand your 
business.  But there are many place you can build 
your warehouse.  The old site, is in the midst of 
the ruins.  There is no advantage to having it 
there.  There are many places which would be 
closer to your shop here that you could purchase instead.”
         And so had gone his day.  As he’d 
promised Mother Wilfrida last night, Father Hough 
had gone to one of the civil engineers in charge 
of rebuilding the city.  They had been only too 
happy to inform him who still owned the land and 
the ruins that the nuns wished to claim for their 
own.  Hough had one of his younger students make 
a copy of the map, and now he wrote everything he 
needed directly on it.  This way, for each 
property, he could tell the sisters what was to be done.
         Most of the properties had no living 
owners left, as those who had owned them had 
either died by the Lutins or by the fire.  Some 
of these, merchants or Innkeepers had already 
tried to snatch up, but they would be easier to 
bargain with.  Already two of them had scaled 
back their plans and agreed to give the nuns the 
portion they wanted for a modest fee.  And some 
that had been abandoned ha not been purchased, 
which meant the nuns could have them for even less.
         But it was those like Hamish who 
presented the real challenge — Keepers who’d 
owned the land before it had been burned down and 
were still alive to lay claim to them.  These 
Hough knew would drive a far higher price.  But 
all he needed was for them to name a price and he 
could bring it to his flock and they would find the money together.
         Hamish frowned as he considered Hough’s 
point.  The boy priest could see it in the man’s 
eyes; he knew there were places far closer to his 
shop that would serve him better and sooner than 
his old warehouse had. “That land has been in my 
family for a very long time, Father.  I cannot just sell it to you.”
         “Oh but you wouldn’t be selling it to 
me.  You would be selling it to the Sisters of 
the Holy Mother’s Immaculate Heart.”  Hough 
couldn’t help himself.  He loved saying their 
full name in front of Lothanasi.  It never failed 
to intimidate them.  On hearing that name they 
never quite knew how to react. “I’m just speaking to you on their behalf.”
         Hamish took a deep breath, already his 
resolve beginning to waver. “Well, what do they 
want to do with it?  The Sisters that is.”
         Father Hough suppressed the triumphant 
grin that wished to climb onto his face.  A 
little bit more haggling and he’d have the price 
for yet one more piece of land.  The Sisters 
would have their convent.  It was just a matter of time and a bit of money.
         But as Mother Wiflrida had said, Eli has lots of money.

----------

         This time, Thomas was able to keep his 
seat while his advisors gathered.  He’d moved it 
from his private quarters to a more official 
council chamber, this with a round table.  On the 
few occasions that his vassals were in attendance 
he always met them here.  There was enough 
seating for twenty, but he had no intention of 
bringing so many in. He was only going to have 
six, Malisa, Thalberg, Andwyn, Copernicus, Misha, and George.
         But after nearly losing control in his 
last meeting to discuss William Dupré, Thomas 
needed a room that accentuated his authority 
instead of downplaying it.  Decisions were going to be made today.
         Thalberg was the last to arrive, but 
only by seconds.  Misha came in only a moment 
before him, straightening his tunic as he sat 
down.  Once Thalberg settled his scaly mass in 
the chair nearest Thomas, the horse lord began. 
“I know all of you are busy, but I need your 
input.  Copernicus, I know you weren’t here for 
our impromptu meeting two days ago, but you’ve 
been helping coordinate all of our patrols in the 
last month, so I want you to hear this too.  Two 
days ago, an exiled baron from the Southern 
Midlands, William Dupré, came to Metamor with 
five soldiers and declared his intent to swear 
allegiance to me.  We know very little about him 
except that he is a capable military 
commander.  George can personally attest to this, 
having faced him in battle and only barely 
survived.  Today, I want to know what we can do 
with him, and what we should do with him.
         “But first, George, you spoke with him 
yesterday.  What do you think now?”
         The jackal leaned back in his seat and 
shrugged. “Same as I did then.  You should take 
him at his word.  He means to go through with 
it.  And he believes that in time you’ll learn to trust him.  Like you did me.”
         Thomas narrowed his eyes, nostrils 
tightening.  He had been loathe to trust the 
former mercenary when Misha had dragged him from 
the Midlands seven years ago.  But he had quickly 
proved his worth.  But Dupré had been sworn to 
Duke Verdane, and had even married his 
daughter.  George had been a mercenary, but he 
hadn’t been part of one of his chief rival’s family!
         “So you have no doubt that he is sincere?  He means Metamor no harm?”
         “I have no doubt.  In fact, I think he’s 
looking forward to being cursed.”
         Thomas chuffed. “The Dupré house has as 
its heraldry the ram.  He was in the Valley when 
the magical wave came through.  He said for a moment he became a ram.”
         “Perhaps he sees it as vindication,” 
Copernicus suggested.  The lizard tapped his long 
fingers together as he spoke. “The Curse makes 
him the symbol of his house.  If he’s just been 
exiled, then that would be a powerful sign that 
he is still noble.  At least, that’s how he might see it.”
         “It would be very unusual for the Curse 
to strike in so coincidental a fashion,” Andwyn mused quietly.
         “It happened to me,” Thomas pointed out. 
“The Hassan coat of arms has always featured a rearing horse.”
         “But not to any of your other vassals,” 
Malisa pointed out. “Perhaps this is a sign to us 
as well as to him.  If he is truly changed to 
reflect his family’s sigil, then he may be meant to stay here and serve you.”
         Misha and George glanced at each 
other.  The jackal rolled his eyes, and then 
leaned forward. “Look.  William is going to stay 
in the valley one way or another.  He’s committed 
to it, and he wants to serve you.  So accept him already.”
         “And I will,” Thomas said, his voice 
deepening. “But I must also know where he should 
serve.  He may earn my trust in time, but for 
now, I will proceed with caution.  Exile he may 
be, but his wife is still the daughter of Titian Verdane.”
         “And his son is the heir apparent to the 
Kelewair duchy,” Andwyn added without much enthusiasm.
         “What a royal mess,” Thalberg groused.  Misha nodded in agreement.
         “So if I accept him as my vassal, I will 
be inserting myself into a potential dynastic 
dispute in Kelewair.  And if that happens, there 
will be open war between Metamor and 
Kelewair.  Verdane may not be able to take 
Metamor, but he can certainly take our southern 
fiefs and block us up in the valley.  Just which 
army will look like the invaders to the people of 
Menth or Giftum?  The human army, or the one with half-human beasts in it?”
         George growled under his throat. “I see 
your point, but I still think you should accept him and damn the consequences.”
         “Noted,” Thomas replied. “Now, Andwyn, 
have you learned more of Dupré’s recent past?”
         The bat nodded and leaned forward, his 
wings wrapped around his chest. “I have, your 
grace.  There may be less to fear of a dynastic 
revolt than you think.  Titian is pressing the 
Ecclesia to annul William’s marriage to his 
daughter, and he’s moving to claim William’s 
eldest son as his own.  Also, one of the 
conditions of William’s exile is that he is to 
have no further contact with his family. If he is 
as honourable as George attests, then there is 
little risk he will try to seize the ducal seat in Kelewair.”
         George’s ears raised in surprise and he 
offered the bat a quick nod of the snout. “Thank you.”
         “This does not mean the situation is 
without some risk,” Andwyn continued. “At the 
very least, I recommend we do not assign him any duties south of the Keep.”
         “And if he were to betray us, don’t you 
think he could do so easier in the north?” Misha asked.
         “He doesn’t know anyone in the north,” 
Andwyn replied. “Nor do I believe he would betray 
us to them.  I fear more that he would rush off 
to see to his family and leave his duty 
undone.  By placing him in the north, he’ll have 
to pass by the Keep.  It will give us advance 
warning for an event I do not believe likely to 
happen, but one we should be watching for.”
         “And if he is the commander George says 
he is,” Copernicus mused, “being in the north 
would place him where someone like him is most needed.”
         “But he should be watched,” Malisa 
suggested. “Until we can be certain of his loyalty.”
         Misha’s one good ear lifted as an idea 
blossomed in his mind. “Nestorius!  The lion 
could keep an eye on him, magically if need 
be.  Place him and his men under Nestorius’s 
command.  The old Suielman outpost is remote 
enough that they won’t be able to do any 
harm.  And with the Haunted Forest to the east, 
and Glen Avery scouts ranging to the west, 
there’s nothing he could do even if he wanted to.”
         George lifted one eye ridge and shook 
his head. “Yeah, I thought that too fifteen years ago.”
         Misha turned on his friend. “Do you have any better ideas?”
         “Yeah, just trust him and give him a 
post.  Outpost is fine. He and Nestorius should get along like lice on a dog.”
         “Which means they’re perfect for each 
other,” Copernicus vocalized everyone’s unspoken thought.
         Thomas couldn’t help but chortle at the 
barb, but he quickly recovered his composure. 
“Very well.  As there are no better suggestions, 
I will have him assigned to Outpost as field 
commander.  It needs a more permanent commander 
anyway.  That is, as long as your magical 
examinations didn’t turn anything up.” This last 
he directed to his adopted daughter.
         Malisa shook her head. “I couldn’t 
detect anything on Dupré or any of his men.  None 
of their belongings have even a trace of magic on 
them either.  I wasn’t able to get any other 
mages, not after having them spoil their 
festivities by examining all of our vassals last 
week, but Nestorius can also examine them 
frequently.  They were very cooperative, and very professional.”
         “It seems we are in a general agreement 
then,” Thomas surmised as he looked at the faces 
around him. “George, I’ll allow you the honour of 
delivering this message to William Dupré.  Once 
the Curse has claimed him and his men, I will 
officially receive them into my service and give 
them a commission.  You do not need to tell them 
any more than that.  Misha, Copernicus, I want 
you both to go over the rosters assigned to 
Outpost and reorganize them as there is no more need for rotating commanders.”
         “Nestorius will be happy about that,” 
Misha said with a sigh of relief.
         “Andwyn, I want you to instruct whatever 
spies you have at Outpost to keep an eye on Dupré and his men.”
         “I told you that you can trust him,” 
George added with a bit of acid in his voice.
         “Trust is earned, not given,” Thomas 
pointed out. “I make no exceptions on that.”
         George narrowed his eyes, “And how long 
were your spies circling me before you trusted me.”
         “You would have to ask Phil.  Malisa, 
write special instructions for Nestorius so he 
knows what he should look for when he magically 
examines Dupré.  Thalberg, I want you to prepare 
an official ceremony for Dupré and his men to 
swear their allegiance to me.  The more 
ceremonial, the more they’ll be bound by their 
oaths.  Make sure that Father Hough is present as 
well.  They’re Patildor, and if a priest of their 
faith is there, their oaths will be even stronger.”
         George still appeared surly, but the 
rest of them all looked satisfied.  Thomas folded 
his hands together and nodded his head once. 
“Thank you all for your aid and advice.  Now let 
us do what we can to prepare the way for our 
newest ally.” With that he rose, and so did they.
         The horse lord immediately put thoughts 
of Dupré from his mind.  It was time to share an afternoon meal with his wife!

----------

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

Charles Matthias


!DSPAM:4aaa89dc317801804284693!