[Mkguild] Invigorating Faith (8/8)

[C. Matthias]

And finally we come to the end.  I hope you've enjoyed the ride!

Metamor Keep: Invigorating Faith
By Charles Matthias

March 1, 708 CR

         With the arrival of evening, Bishop Tyrion Verdane sat alone 
in his carriage with only his driver and the four Metamorians to 
guide him.  It was many hours since he'd left Father Purvis to his 
new duties in Lorland, and not long since Father Felsah had departed 
to walk on foot to Jetta with only Rakka for company.  He was alone 
with his thoughts, memories of delighted Keepers eager to greet their 
new priests and to thank him for listening to their cries for 
help.  The smile this brought was ended as he dwelt on the betrayal 
of Nikolai and of the anger of Duke Thomas Hassan.
         He'd grown up being taught that the Hassan's were political 
rivals, one that would one day be bowing to the Verdane house.  His 
father would be furious if he knew Tyrion had begged for help from 
the Horse Lord.  But all he wanted was his brother back.  Nothing more.
         He shifted his clubfoot about the carriage, until it no 
longer felt sore, and then gently lifted the heavy yew dangling over 
his chest.  He'd never wanted to be a Bishop.  What had Yahshua said 
about His yoke being easy and His burden light? "I feel very weary by 
thy weight, O Yahshua!  Aid me by thy strength!"
         He kissed the yew and a moment later the carriage was 
brought to a halt.  Sir Egland rode back to the near window and 
nodded southward, velvety antlers already larger than when he'd first 
seen him. "We've reached the southern end of the Valley, your 
grace.  The road goes straight to Menth from here.  Some of our human 
soldiers wait just ahead to escort you there."
         "Thank you, Sir Egland.  Your stewardship has been most 
welcome.  As has been your conversation and your very presence.  Thank you."
         The elk's muzzle faintly broke into a smile. "It has been 
good to protect you, your grace.  I have greatly missed it.  Please 
come back again that we may do so again."
         Tyrion laughed warmly at that and shifted closer to the 
window. "I do not believe I will be returning for some time.  But 
thank you for wishing it.  Now I wish to say one more blessing before 
I leave you." He struggled to his feet and pushed open the door.  Sir 
Saulius, Intoran, and Charles all brought their steeds 
around.  Tyrion swayed uneasily for a moment before finding his balance.
         "May Eli bless you each in your sacred duties.  May your 
lives be dedicated to His service, and your swords to His will.  And 
if so called, may He grant you the grace necessary to give up those 
lives for Him.  May Yahshua guard you against the Evil One, and bring 
your souls safely to Him in Heaven." He made the final invocation 
while tracing the sign of the Yew in the air before them.  They each 
did likewise across their head and breasts.  Four beasts, but men of 
more noble character than the knights he'd brought with him.  He 
would miss them.
         Tyrion sighed but held his place a moment longer. "Now I 
must go. My own knights will see me safely back to Kelewair."
         The oryx, the one least trained in the Followers ways, 
asked, "Are you sure, your grace?  I do not think they will warmly 
welcome you back in their company after Iron Mine."
         Tyrion smiled, though it was one weighed down by more cares 
than he had ever wished to have. "I am protected both by my clerical 
office and by my lineage.  My father may wish to excoriate me for 
sending them away and excommunicating them, but he would eviscerate 
them should any harm befall me.  I am safe from them.  Only offer 
your prayers for me that I might provide for your land as best I am 
able.  And for peace in all of the Midlands.  Pray for that!" He did 
not know if any could forestall the darkness coming to the Midlands, 
but all things were possible with Eli.
         "We shalt," Sir Saulius assured him with that reserved 
nobility that came to the rat with such ease. "And may Eli bless thee 
on thy voyage!  'Tis an honour to have served thee, thy grace." He 
bowed his head low in the saddle, and the others did likewise.
         Tyrion felt his smile broaden and he had to grip the side of 
the wagon to keep from toppling.  Even his driver, a stout man of 
middle-age who thought he'd seen everything let out a little sigh of 
unexpected delight.
         "I bid you farewell and Eli's blessings be on each of 
you.  Now return to your families and to your homes.  They have 
missed you." He made the sign of the yew one last time before 
collapsing back inside the carriage.  His leg ached.  Yet he watched 
those four knights remain there as his driver started them 
south.  Not a one of them moved.  Even after a bend in the road made 
it impossible for Tyrion to see them, he knew they were still there.
         Clasping his hands together, Tyrion wept one final prayer. 
"Oh Eli, please let me have done the right thing!  Thy will be 
done.  Thy will be done."

----------

         "And so my agents report that Bishop Tyrion has left the 
Valley and rejoined with his disgraced knights," Andwyn announced to 
both Thomas and Malisa.  It was now evening and both of them would be 
grateful for the chance in the morning to worry about other matters. 
"There have been no further incidents.  Both of the new priests seem 
a trifle overwhelmed but I have confirmed that they both have family 
in the Valley.  Some have bled and died in our wars against Nasoj.  I 
do not believe either will be anything but priests."
         "But you will still keep an eye on them," Malisa asked, her 
face strained but expressive.
         "Of course!" The bat replied with a little laugh. "I've 
already arranged duty rotations for my men to observe them."
         "And what of the Questioner, Felsah?" Thomas asked, his chin 
propped on his fists, his whole head shifting with each word.
         The bat looked a little irritated. "His purpose seems so 
nebulous to me that I will have some difficulty in knowing when to 
assign spies, but his movements will not be hard to follow.  I need 
some time to assess him before I can be sure."
         "Make sure that he is not fomenting zealotry amongst the 
Followers," Thomas suggested.
         "I doubt he'll do such a thing," Malisa pointed out 
gently.  She spread her hands on the table and keeping her eyes on 
her father's distracted face, she spoke a little more firmly. "He was 
one of the Questioners who exonerated us in Yesulam and he is the one 
who was brought by Madog to Coe for healing last September.  I spoke 
with him at length then.  He is a man of deep faith and conviction, 
zealous, but no fanatic.  I would say of the three he is the man we 
need least concern ourselves with."
         "Perhaps you are right," Thomas added.  He lowered his hands 
and sighed. "I know we should be grateful that these men are willing 
to embrace the Curse to serve the Followers in our land.  They are 
courageous if nothing else.  But it is not they who bother me."
         "It's the Bishop," his daughter added with a sigh. "Father, 
I've seen these dynastic battles turn otherwise good men against each 
other for no reason other than family and pride.  I too am disturbed 
by what his men did, but he seems blameless in it.  Perhaps his 
motives here really had nothing to do with his father."
         The horse lord shook his head and leaned back. "Of course 
they had to do with his father.  But to what extent I do not 
know.  We may never know, and that has me worried.  Plus, there is 
one other thing."
         When he said nothing for several long seconds, Andwyn and 
Malisa glanced at each other before his daughter asked, "What is the 
other thing?"
         Thomas rested his hands on the table and sighed. "He asked 
me to help free his brother."
         Andwyn sucked in his breath while Malisa blinked in 
surprise. "His brother?  Jaime?  The one imprisoned in Salinon?"
         "Aye, he begged me to do something to help and he didn't 
care what the political consequences were for his family."
         Malisa pursed her lips. "Could we?  Dare we?"
         "As to the first, we can probably send one of our birds to 
bring him messages at the very least.  Let them learn what they can 
of his prison and perhaps we may devise a way for him to escape.  As 
to the second, I do not know.  Tyrion believes war is inevitable in 
the Midlands, but the severity of it is dependent on whether or not 
Jaime Verdane is a prisoner."
         "He may be right," Malisa replied glumly.  The young woman 
slid her hair back over one ear and scrunched her face in deep 
thought. "Bozojo is the flashpoint.  There are rumblings in Lanton 
and Linduin.  But if war does come it may only ever be between 
them.  I doubt Marigund will be eager for this sort of fight."
         "They will if any of their families are involved." Thomas 
tapped his thumbs together, the nails clicking audibly each time. 
"And Duke Otakar's family and several of the most prominent in 
Marigund are bound up in marriages.  It's how he's been able to keep 
Marigund dancing on his string all these years." He flecked his lips 
and narrowed his eyes. "If there is any sort of war it could easily 
escalate.  Tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of lives would be 
lost.  And there's no knowing who the victor would be."
         The bat's large ears turned away and his eyes narrowed, 
wings drawing tighter over his chest. "Yes there is." Both Malisa and 
Thomas stared warily at the bat.  He smiled faintly. "If they two go 
to war, they will deplete each other's resources.  The only victor 
will be Metamor.  If they fight and we keep clear of it, we will gain 
in power by default.  If we rescue Jaime, we may prevent war or we 
may cause it.  Either way, he will be indebted to us and we will 
still gain power.  These are seeds we have sown twelve years 
past.  We may be able to reap a rich harvest."
         Thomas's dumbfounded stare darkened into a glowering anger 
under which the bat wilted some. "I am not going to be a King on a 
throne of skulls!  And what seeds are you talking about?"
         "I am merely pointing out a truth, unpleasant though it may 
be.  The seeds were not yours, my liege.  They were your 
mother's.  An alliance of marriage was to occur between Jaime and 
Duke Otakar's niece.  The combined power of Kelewair and Salinon 
threatened Metamor with a war we could not hope to win; we had no 
Curse to protect us from the south then.  The decision was made to 
prevent this alliance.  And so it was.  The marriage ended very 
poorly and the house of the wolf and the house of the falcon have 
hated each other ever since."
         Thomas stared at the bat with increasing horror in his 
face.  Slowly he rose to his hooves, towering over the fruit bat and 
casting him into deep shadow.   His voice trembled. "You were in 
Kelewair twelve years ago."
         Andwyn let out a long breath and nodded. "I have always been 
a spy in the service of the House of Hassan.  I received my orders 
from Master Sedares and carried them out.  I only got the goblet wrong."
         "Sedares... I remember him.  Cold-hearted bastard.  I was 
glad when he died in bed and Phil took his place.  You would be best 
to emulate the rabbit and not that... man."
         Andwyn stood a little taller. "Your grace, I am yours to 
command.  I have served you in some of the most vile places 
imaginable.  But I will not apologize for doing my duty or for 
telling you truths you do not wish to hear.  That is why you have 
asked me to do this." He lowered his eyes and his smile, faint 
thought it was, returned. "It would be ironic if we were to save 
Jaime Verdane when it was Metamor who destroyed his life twelve years ago."
         The Duke of Metamor and the Northern Midlands stood to his 
fullest height and in a growl unbecoming of the stallion he was, he 
belted his words. "We are going to help Jaime Verdane in any way we 
can.  Not for irony.  Not for political advantage.  But to amend a 
very poor mistake."
         "I will do as you command, my liege," Andwyn replied.
         "See that you do."
         Thomas turned away from him for a moment, but the bat, in a 
timorous voice, added, "I have always been a loyal servant of the 
Hassan house.  My specialty has always been poisons.  Your mother 
knew that.  Phil knew that.  Would you look on the coming conflict 
any differently had I poisoned the right goblet twelve years ago?"
         Thomas took a deep breath and then nodded. "I too have a 
wife, Andwyn.  I too have a wife.... Knowing that my family is 
responsible for this conflict...." He lifted his brown eyes and met 
both his daughter and the bat. "I will be responsible for ending 
it.  And damn the consequences!"
         With that he turned and stormed away from the table toward 
his private chambers.  Malisa stood up and called after him, 
"Father?  Where are you going?"
         Thomas paused and looked over his shoulder. "To be with my 
wife.  Good night, Malisa.  Andwyn, I don't want to see your face 
again until tomorrow evening.  Good night." With that he shut the 
door behind him strong enough to knock the tapestries off their hooks.

----------

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

Charles Matthias


!DSPAM:4c0e09cc182871804284693!