[Mkguild] New Beginings Part 2

[Christian Okane]

 Here is part 2

  Enjoy!

   Chris
   The Lurking Fox




   It was shortly after midday prayers that William was able to meet the
paladin. He found the paladins quarters lightly furnished. A bed, a small
writing desk and chair and a small traveling chest occupied the small room.
The only real flash of luxury was a bowl filled with bright flowers resting
on the desk. William noted those details with a glance of his changed eyes
before settling them on the two figures which held the room together.  He'd
known that Edmund was a Hunting cat, one of the sleek felines many southern
nobles kept for hunting game. But where he thought to find one he discovered
two. The first of the cheetahs was dressed in a simple woolen tunic and
pants both a dark blue. Embroidered onto the tunic was a gold Follower
cross.

   The second feline was wearing a simple, brown, wool shirt and shorts both
dirty and a little tattered around the edges. He was also not wearing any
shoes. the claws of his bare paws clicking on the flooring as he walked.

   “My name is Sir Edmond Delacot. Protector of the innocent and defender of
the faithful and a Knight of the Order of the Protectors,” the cheetah with
the Follower cross on his tunic said calmly, bowing his head ever so
slightly in recognition of Dupré's status.

   The second feline did not speak but stared at the ram for a long moment
with the intensity only a predator has.

   “Stealth my friend please do not startle Sir Dupré." Edmund whispered in
Stealth's ear.

   “Huh?” the second feline replied with a quick blink.

   “You're giving him the 'You look tasty' stare that all cats do. He's a
prey species. It's starting to spook him.” Or so Edmund surmised. William
Dupré remained still, horizontal eyes moving from one to the other with
deliberate focus.

   "Oh...” Surprised, Stealth lowered his eyes.

   Edmund bowed to the ram a second time and gestured with a restrained
sweep of one arm to the other cheetah morph. “My apologies Sir William. This
is my good friend Stealth.”

   The ram's nostrils flared once before he returned the bow, nodding to
them both as his cloven hooves steadied himself on the cold masonry. “We are
well met, Master Stealth. I am Sir William Dupré, formerly of Mallow Horn
but now in the services to Duke Thomas and assigned to Hareford as commander
of the armies.”

   Stealth's eyes rose again, wide and he opened his mouth to speak, and
then shut it again not wanting to show his fangs and spooking the ram.
Finally, after several moment's of indecision, he merely nodded his head and
did his best to appear uninterested in a meal of fresh mutton.

   Suddenly, Stealth blurted out, "I have duties to tend to Master Dupré,
good day to you both." He reached for a nearby door and entered.

   "Why are you entering the closet, sir?" The ram asked.

   Stealth stiffened and his fur bristled, "This door leads to several other
wings of the castle, it leads to a closet at other times, when Kyia wishes
it." He said and quickly closed the door behind him.

   Edmund nodded his head. "You forget Sir William that this is Metamor Keep
and it's innards move about at whim and Kyia's desire."

   "There is so much here at Metamor that takes getting comfortable with,"
William commented.

   "You'll get used to it with time," the paladin answered. "Now, how can I
be of service Sir William?"

   William Dupré rested his three fingered hands over his belt, only inches
from the hilt of his broadsword, and stared down a long rounded black muzzle
toward the cheetah. His eyes, yellow with horizontal pupils, were some of
the most disconcerting that Edmund had ever glimpsed on any other Keeper.
They were distinctly inhuman in a way that even a predator could not match.
They carried the impression of a dumb beast, but there was nothing in either
Dupré's stance, his etiquette, or his regard to support it.

   Edmund could only conclude that either he'd been completely wrong about
Stealth's gaze frightening him, or William was a master at hiding his
feelings. The rumors he'd heard of George's praise for this former noble's
prowess were undoubtedly true.

   But what of his character? Was he a virtuous soul seeking to aid Metamor
after his exile, or was he still a haughty lord too enamored of himself to
recognize the way he'd been humbled?

   Edmund pondered those questions as he listened to those William brought.
“I was told,” the ram began in even tones that suggested he was still
measuring the paladin, “that you are the loremaster of the Haunted woods.
As it lies just to the east of Hareford, and Duke Thomas has forbade my men
and I from entering, I wish to know what you have to tell of it.”

   Edmund stiffened for a moment as his ears laid back. His tail stopped its
usual movement. “Oh? Why are you interested in that place?” he asked in a
cold tone. “The ruins are best left to the ghosts who haunt and guard the
place.”

   The ram snorted as if disappointed. “I have no interest in the ruins or
what treasures supposedly lie there. As I explained, I have been appointed
by the Duke as the military commander of Hareford. My soldiers will patrol
near it one way or another, and I wish to understand the nature of the evil
that lurks within those woods.”

   Edmund stared intently at the ram for a long moment. Yes, there was
arrogance there, but it seemed tempered. That he was concerned chiefly for
the men under his command spoke well of him.  The feline relaxed noticeably
and his tail started moving back and forth slowly.  Still, the subject at
hand was not one he wished to discuss. “I had heard you were headed there
and bringing troops with you.”

   “You've heard already?" William asked, scalloped ears flicking betwixt
curling horns toward the feline.  The moment of surprise passed quickly into
begrudging acceptance. “Word travels fast here in Metamor.”

   “Yes and no,” Edmund admitted, sharing the ram's distaste for gossip.
“But Nestorius is a good friend of mine. The Duke informed him of your
assignment several hours ago. Nest informed me a little while later.”

   “I see.” William's brow furrowed and his muzzle curled into what must be
a frown. “What of Nestorius? I know he is a mage, a lion, to whom I will
report, but little else.”

   Edmund felt more comfortable and so smiled without showing any fangs.
“Nestorius is a mage of some power. There are more powerful mages here in
the valley but not many. He has been living in Hareford for some seven
years, shortly after the Curses were first laid down. He has ruled the place
well during that time and shown himself to be a capable magistrate.
Nestorius is no military man but he is wise enough to recognize that."

   “What of the Haunted woods?” the ram asked with narrowed eyes. He could
tell that Edmund didn't wish to speak of it. After a moment's pause he
added, “George suggested that something other than ghosts are there.”

   Edmund nodded and swallowed. There was no point in not telling him. “The
ruins in haunted woods were once the Suielman city of Camulodunum. When the
valley fell to invaders in the year 75 they put everyone in the city to the
sword. But right before the empire mages summoned a very powerful shadow.
That shadow still guards the ruins along with the thousands of ghosts.”

   “How dangerous are they? I will be running patrols right up the edge of
the forest and must know the peril.”

   “The shadow guards the woods fiercely and kills any enemies it finds
there in,” Edmund answered. “He is more tolerant of Keepers so long as they
do not try and loot the ruins.”

   William took a deep breath, eyes finally leaving Edmund to peer past him.
“I see. And no effort has been made to exorcise this shadow? As a paladin, I
would expect you to destroy such evils.”

   “An exorcism will only remove a demonic presence,” Edmund explained,
feeling the burn of the ram's reproof in his chest. “The shadow is not that.
He has come to my aid in the past. He seeks only to guard and protect that
which he was charged to do. No more and no less. He is no threat to
Metamor.”

   “And yet,” William said with some amusement, “his presence keeps you from
both cultivating those woods, and securing your northern defenses.” He
lifted one hand and shook his head. “No, don't argue with me.  This is not
the time or place to settle such matters. I am accustomed to speaking my
mind, Sir Edmund.”

   “As am I, Sir William.”

   “I am also accustomed to command, as I sense are you. But I also sense in
you a desire to protect this wood against the rest of Metamor.”

   Edmund knew he was being tested now, and he didn't like it. The hackles
on the back of his neck rose. “What lies there is of no interest to Metamor.
It is a threat only to our enemies.”

   “And if things should change? Which will you sacrifice, Sir Edmund? The
wood or Metamor?”

   Now his fangs did show. “What do you intend to do, Sir William?”

   “To do my duty of course. And that will be to command the forces at
Hareford. It is the valley's first line of defense to the north. But to do
that, I need to know everything there is to know. And that means, I need to
know that your fealty to Metamor is more important than your desire to
protect the creature in the woods. Because if you are unwilling to inform me
of all that I should know, then I will need to learn it other ways.”

   Edmund stiffened and he had to repress the urge to bare his fangs and
snarl. This nobleman was not someone who played word games. He was as blunt
and straight as a sword in the stomach. The cheetah nodded slowly and said,
“Forgive me if I have misread your intentions, Sir William. But I am not
prepared to tell you everything of the Haunted Wood just yet. There has been
far too many who have talked sweet words but only had their minds on looting
the ruins. I will need to consult with my notes as well as with my friend
Stealth who witnessed many things there with me.” And, he didn't add, to
learn more about Dupré himself.

   “I and my men are to leave for Hareford in two day's time. I will return
here tomorrow at your leisure and we can discuss the Haunted Wood in more
detail. Until then, I bid you a good day, Sir Edmund.”

   “And you, Sir William. Noon will suffice. We can talk over bread and
meat. I fear we do not have many vegetables this time of the year.”

   “Bread and meat are fine,” William agreed. He bowed and turned to depart.

   “One thing, Sir William. Not all that lies in darkness is evil.”

   William nodded. “True. But there is still evil, and I won't hesitate
striking it down.”

   “And neither will I,” Edmund replied, “Neither will I.” The ram snorted,
almost a laugh as he left.

   "The issue I have found in the past is how do you define evil?" Edmund
said in a soft voice. "I know many who would call Metamor itself as evil."

   William stiffened for a moment then simply nodded his head. "Indeed."
Then he gave a short bow and turned and left the room.


*********


   Edmund watched the ram disappear down the hallway. Suddenly the closet
door opened and Stealth stepped into view.

   "Now tell me why you felt the need to hide in my closet?" Edmund asked.

   Stealth ignored the question and spoke in a quiet voice, "Ed, I know that
guy."

   "You do?" Edmund asked. Surprised. He turned to face his friend.

   "Not in person, I know of him," Stealth paused for a moment. "He's done
things."

   "Things?" Edmund asked and tilted his head to the side.

   The feline looked around cautiously, as if Dupre' would jump out of the
closet, "That's Dupre', Dupre' of Mallow Horn in the south. He was involved
deeply in the civil war, his people did things to the Lightbringers all over
the realm."

  "Evil things? I'd rumors that he was involved in fighting and other more
evil things."

   "There are a lot of people coming in from the south spreading those
rumors, Ed. He murdered those people, wiped out the Lothanasi. He committed
genocide. Now WHAT is he doing HERE? Is he here to kill more Lightbringers?"

   "Well," Edmund said slowly. Measuring each word carefully. "I don't
believe rumors but I will look into them and see what happened."

   "And if I'm right? what are you going to do?"

   "I don't know." he said softly. "I just do not know."


**************


   The marketplace was busy in the late afternoon. The sun was already
bending toward the western peaks, but for now the people of Metamor enjoyed
the vague warmth it provided.  Icicles on eaves glistened with melt, the ice
on the roadway stones chipped beneath hoof, boot, and claw, and the
boisterous shouting of merchants with wares to sell were full of promises to
keep the multitudinous variety of Keepers warm and well fed.

   A ram dressed in noble surcoat, tabard, and breeches, with a heavy
broadsword buckled at his side, made his way through the crowd with a boar
dressed in newly acquired tunic, mail, and breeches. Both kept malformed
hands on the hilts of their blades, while their beastly ears twitched to
follow the many sounds of the crowd.

   When the roar reached a feverish pitch, and the press of bodies
surrounded them on all sides, the ram leaned over and spoke in level tones
into the boar's ears, “Can you hear me, Becket?”

   “Aye, milord Dupré,” Becket replied with an odd turn to his lips and a
wrinkle in his piggish snout. The bristly furs across his face trembled at
the touch of a cool wind passing over the throng. “But only just.”

   “Good. We are almost certainly being spied upon. Laugh as if I've told
you a particularly naughty joke.”

   Becket's eyes lifted in surprise, and then he guffawed and squealed with
delight, the ram still hanging onto his shoulder the entire time. “Good,
good!  When we reach Hareford, I'm sure Metamor will have spies amongst our
men. I want you to keep an eye out for them as best you see fit. It would be
well if we could learn who they are.”

   “To keep them out of your way?” Becket asked as he side stepped a burly
man who'd slipped on a patch of ice and nearly bowled them both over.

   “No. Just so we can make sure they report all the good things, all the
loyalty to the house of Hassan, that we display.”

   Becket frowned and kicked a bit of loose ice with one hoof. “Aren't we
going to be loyal?”  He could not hide the quaver of uncertainty from either
voice or snout. His nose wrinkled in obvious distaste to the suggestion of
duplicity.

   “Of course we are! But the sooner Duke Thomas and his advisors believe
it, the sooner we'll be left alone to do what we must to protect this
valley. The sooner they trust us, the sooner we'll no longer be exiled
foreigners but brothers.”

   The fear fled from Becket's small eyes and his smile returned. He laughed
again, loud and squealing. “Ah! Of course. I will do my best, milord Dupré.”

   Dupré grunted and leaned back, saying in a much louder voice. “It is Sir
Dupré for now, Captain. Tell me, how fare the rest of our men in attaining
the necessary supplies?”

   "They go well... Sir Dupré.” Becket hated his liege's demotion, but it
seemed he would have no choice but to accept it for now. “Alexander has
found a helmet that doesn't chafe his ears or snout, and the boys have all
found clothes, armor, and swords more to their size.” The boys, Anthony,
Martin, and Robert, had all become children on the verge of their manly
growth and had been forced to barter their old gear for some better fitting.
Alexander had become a rather stout dark furred dog which made him in some
sense the most imposing of the six of them despite being the youngest of
all. Still, Becket was very proud of his men and knew they would do well in
this strange land.

   “Excellent to hear,” Sir Dupré grinned and gestured to the vast
marketplace. “Now in all of this I'm sure we can find something to fill our
bellies. We won't see the likes of this for years to come I'm sure.”

   “I'm afraid you're right,” Becket admitted. Their conspiracy done, the
two new Keepers navigated the throng to a satisfying meal by following their
noses.



End part 2



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