[Mkguild] Keeper's Return (2/13)

[John Burman]

A curry filled sweet roll?  That's just evil Matt.  Though I must admit, between that and the implied reading material I got a good laugh.  Looking forward to reading the rest of this one when I get a chance.
John Burman

--- On Thu, 3/11/10, C. Matthias <jagille3 at vt.edu> wrote:

From: C. Matthias <jagille3 at vt.edu>
Subject: [Mkguild] Keeper's Return (2/13)
To: "Metamor Keep" <MKGuild at lists.integral.org>
Date: Thursday, March 11, 2010, 6:13 PM


 
Part 2


Metamor Keep: Keeper's Return

By Charles Matthias


Jan 30, 708 CR


          “So
it’s to be Ellcaran,” Kayla mused as she, Abafouq, Captain Aldanto, and
Darius Egland listened to the report from Guernef.  The white
gryphon had spent most of his days in the sky.  He would fly on
ahead and scour the sea for signs of danger, both natural and
supernatural.  Thankfully he’d seen none of the latter, but in the
dead of winter there was plenty enough of the former to worry about.

          And now he
brought them news of ice choking the coasts and harbours in the northern
seas.  Of all the ports, only Ellcaran could accept them, and even
they had many of their wharves overrun by the chill winter. 
Ellcaran was a seaport of the Southern Midlands and was a city not known
for being hospitable to Keepers.  Not, truthfully, that any
were.  Beyond the boundaries of the Northern Midlands and Duke
Thomas’s reach few ever encountered non-human cursed Keepers. 
Albeit a distant port Ellcaran would have to suffice.

          “We can
reach Ellcaran in another day,” Aldanto said as he traced his finger
along the map’s coastline on his table. “Once there we’ll have to hire
carriages to lead us north.  I don’t suppose you have any
money.”

          “Nothing
yet,” Kayla admitted with a swish of her tail.  She leaned over the
map but kept her paws on the dragon swords. “But we have enough at
Metamor, and your liege did promise just compensation to you and your
crew for this.”

          “Aye, that
he did.  And a good thing too.  Hiring carriages will be
expensive this time of year.”

          “I brought
some with me,” Darius added through furrowed brows. “It should be
enough.”

          “You can
barter my skill in enchanting stones as well if you must,” Abafouq
suggested. “I am thinking that a promise of pyrocks or glow stones will
make them amenable to our request.”

          Aldanto
nodded. “Do you have any I can give as surety?”

          “I will
fashion one tonight,” the Binoq replied with a smile. “I’ll need more
stones if I am to make any more, but I suspect those will not be hard to
come by once we land.”

          “No, they
won’t,” Aldanto agreed. “Very well, we shall have to trust that will be
enough.” He managed to keep his gaze levelled at the Nauh-kaee who
crouched before the cabin door, blocking all escape.  His firm avian
eyes held them prisoner. “Thank you, Guernef.  This is the news
we’ve needed.  I’m going to give the first mate our new
heading.  Excuse me.”

          Guernef
bowed his beak slightly and said in his harsh voice. “I will wait in our
room until it is time to leave this ship.” He turned on his haunches,
showing the right which had a nasty scar over the thigh from where a tree
limb had punctured it, and then shoved himself out the door and into the
aft castle hall.  Aldanto uncertainly followed his leonine tail
out.

          Kayla
lifted one paw to the map, drawing the katana with it.  In the
cramped room the sword seemed many times larger than it was but the
action was such second nature to everyone that none took note of the
naked steel.  She tapped the coastline with her knuckles. “It should
take us ten days to journey from Ellcaran to Metamor if the roads are
good and we don’t suffer mishap.  Oh, if only we still had the
Rheh Talaran to ride!  We could be there in a day or two with
them to lead us.”

          “I am
wondering what became of them,” Abafouq mused, eyes staring past the map
into memory.

          “The
Rheh Talaran?” Darius asked with a curious grunt.  In the few
weeks they had been journeying, the Pyralian seaman had become accustomed
to their beastly appearance, but he was still withdrawn and offered them
only the basic rudiments of friendship.  What thoughts or feelings
he had he kept to himself.

          “The most
marvellous horses this world shall ever see,” Kayla replied, glancing at
the sword in her paw before smoothly slipping it back in its
sheath.  She could feel the warm song of the dragons in her
mind.  Ever since she’d struck the Marquis down with them, she felt
a love from them and a sense of attachment that she couldn’t
explain.  When she returned to Metamor she would give them back to
Rickkter who was their true wielder — no one could ever claim to own them
without losing their hand — but she found imagining that harder and
harder.  And she had a vague sense that the dragons didn’t want to
go back to him anyway.

          
“Horses?  What makes them so special?”

          “They can
fly,” Abafouq said with complete aplomb. “And any other horse that runs
with them can fly too.  Our Åelf friend would say that the Rheh are
what horses were meant to be, only this fallen world has led many to
forget their true nature.  But with them they can remember.  A
touch of grace amongst your equine friends, that is the Rheh
Talaran.”

          Darius’s
eyebrows lifted and he could not hold back the smile. “They sound very
impressive indeed.  A horse that can fly!  I would love to see
it myself.”

          “Mayhap
you will, Captain.  Mayhap you will.” Kayla stretched her fingers a
moment and then reclasped the hilts. “But I think we’ll have to settle
for a carriage for now.  I’m going to pack my things.  Just
think!  In less than two weeks we’ll be home!”

          Kayla
nearly bounced on her paws out of the room.  Behind her, Abafouq
smiled with a deep sadness behind his eyes. “Some of us, aye.” 
Darius said nothing.


----------


          The five
of them were wrapped in blankets as they huddled near the fire warming
their paws.  The cellars were always cold, but especially so in
winter.  So the five rats who lived down there emerged to spend
their evening about one of the hearths in the Deaf Mule, heedless of the
other patrons who’d come to chase away the cold with companionship and
ale. But this mischief had long found their own company the most pleasant
of all.  It was just warmer here at the Mule.

          “I admit,”
Julian said as he turned his paws back and forth in front of the
crackling flame, “this was a good idea.  It is much nicer up
here.”

          Sir
Saulius chittered, long whiskers twitching and shaking off the drip of
snowfall. “‘Tis always a better place that hath a fire to warm bones and
weary flesh!”

          Elliot and
Goldmark both nodded as they hunkered closer. Goldmark was a taur, so his
back half lay out across the floor a hazard for the larger Keepers who
might walk past.  Hector mentioned this to him when they’d first
arrived, but the rattaur only smiled and winked.  The others laughed
and then kept a watch out to make sure nobody did trip.

          
“Although,” Julian added with a smile, his incisors reflecting the orange
flames, “I had hoped for some place more private to discuss what we
should do to welcome Charles back.  This will have to do.”

          “Charles
is coming back?” Hector repeated in delighted surprise. “When did you
hear about this?”

          “This
morning,” Julian replied.  Goldmark and Elliot nodded, having heard
the news already.  Sir Saulius, who’d been out on patrol the last
week, had not.  His whiskers stood on end and his dark eyes
brightened beneath the grey fur of his brow. “Apparently the Longs and a
few others have known for a week.  They’ve been quietly buying
supplies for a welcome home party for Charles and the others.  I
thought we might do something similar.”

          “Do you
think Charles will come here with the others?” Hector asked with a
curious frown. “Won’t he go to Glen Avery to be with his wife
first?”

          “I don’t
know,” Julian replied candidly. “But we should be ready just in
case.  He’ll be coming in from the south with the others who left
with him last year.”

          Elliot
tapped a chewstick against the front of his teeth. “We should let Tallis
know.  The Writer’s Guild will want to know that two of their former
headmasters are returning from their quest against that evil place.”

          “Indeed,”
Sir Saulius agreed, wrapping his tail about his middle. “I wouldst prefer
to present the stables the knights and I built for him at the Glen
myself, but we shouldst be here to greet my squire if this way he dost
come.”

          “And if he
goes to Glen Avery first?” Goldmark asked.  A longer limbed patron
passing by growled, but stepped over his body.  The rat laughed,
“What am I saying, this is Metamor!” He churred deeply with a toothy
grin. “To get to the Glen from the south he must skirt Euper, hardly a
stone’s cast from the Keep’s walls.  Why not stop here unless he
follows some goat track on the mountains or somehow learns to fly!” He
laughed again, and then sobered immediately. “But if he does go to the
Glen first, we’ll need to offer comfort rather than welcome.”

          All their
faces fell at that. “Aye,” Saulius mused. “‘Twill be a terrible blow for
him to receive.”

          Julian’s
moue deepened as he considered for a moment.  His plans were moving
along smoothly and would soon be ready to reveal.  But for Charles,
the one person who had believed in their worth in all the years of their
hiding, he would do anything.  That decided him. “We can prepare for
his return here, but if we learn he has gone ahead to Glen Avery, well,
we have a team of horses standing ready that can take all of us
there.  And if he comes here, then we can all go to the Glen
together.  We just need to find something to offer as both welcome
and condolence.”

          “I’ve been
working on something,” Hector said softly, eyes downcast. “I’ll have it
ready in a few days.”

          “We should
each find something,” Elliot added, his voice equally subdued. “He’s been
there for us.  We’re going to be there for him when he needs
us.”

          “Aye, we
shalt.” Sir Saulius took a deep breath and then huddled closer to the
fire. “I wilt depart on the morrow for the Glen.  Lady Kimberly
needs to be told of our intentions.  I wilt return as soon as I am
able to aid thee.”

          “Thank
you.” Julian stretched his paws toward the fire and then drew them back
beneath the blanket. “Now, before we make any other plans, I suggest we
get something to warm our bellies too.  We have much to do and a
full stomach makes for a good beginning.”

          A hearty
growl from Goldmark’s lower torso echoed the white rat’s thoughts
perfectly.


----------


          Rickkter
stared up at the banners hung at the far end of Long Hall with some
disdain.  That rat’s name was plastered all over them.  No
mention yet of Kayla or any of the others who’d gone to Marzac.  He
shouldn’t be surprised.  Charles was a Long where none of the others
were.  Misha always took care of family first.

          And
sometimes, the raccoon mused irritably, he did so in the most aggravating
of ways.  The sly fox had taken Rickkter’s complaint about reading
material to heart and had been providing new material to him every day
for the last week.  Unfortunately for the raccoon the fox’s idea of
worth reading material left much to be desired; each sample was more
horrid than the last.  The first edition had been a copy of some of
the stories that Charles had written during his tenure at the Writer’s
Guild.  The second had been collections of love poems of a
particularly overemotional kind — the type that a lovesick woman might
write.  It only proceeded downhill from there.  The last had
been of such a hilariously licentious nature that the raccoon had been
surprised the vellum didn’t catch flame when exposed to the light of the
sun.

          And then
there were the very strange pastries that Misha brought with them. 
The last had been sweet and delicate, until he’d reached the curry laden
centre.  Anything more and the fox was going to suffer some broken
bones once Rickkter was well enough to cause them.

          On one end
of the Long House some of the Longs practised their swordsmanship, while
Finbar taught several of the younger scouts who showed promise the deadly
art of knifework.   Misha was sparring with Caroline, but as
soon as the otter nodded in the raccoon’s direction, the fox set aside
his sword, wagged and waved.  Rickkter remained where he was with
crossed arms.  His legs felt weak, but he was not going to go back
to his quarters where that atrocious horse manure that dared to call
itself literature waited.

          Misha and
Caroline walked over.  The otter’s smile was genuine and lacked all
the mischief that coated the fox. “It’s good to see you up and about,
Rick!  How are you feeling today?”

          “Better
than yesterday.  Tired of sitting in my room.” He glared at Misha.
“And if you bring me one more book I will cut off the rest of your
fingers.”

          The fox’s
grin widened and his tail wagged in unrepentant delight. “What?  You
didn’t enjoy the Song of the Seven Swordmaids of Silvassa?”

          “It was a
title that made me question the wisdom of Habakkuk and his little band
forestalling the end of the world. It was a title that hit bottom early
on then dug several sub basements below that. What parts I could force
past my eyes made me want to, in turn, go find a sharp stick, so I could
dig them back out. And that particular title was all your idea, wasn’t
it?” he finished up, glaring not at Misha but at the loudly guffawing
Caroline.

          “Guilty,
yes,” she replied, raising a paw in surrender. “It was something given to
me by a suitor many, many years ago, and I’d been looking for the perfect
occasion to be rid of it.”

          Rickkter
just snorted and gestured to the banners, eager to drop the topic. “I see
you are getting ready for their return.  But what of Kayla and the
others?  Aren’t you going to welcome them back too?”

          “Of
course,” Misha replied, all serious again. “I have the tailors working on
banners for the rest now.  These are the ones we used last Summer
when Charles returned from the Glen.  Briefly.” The last word fell
like acid from the fox’s tongue, but his smile quickly returned. “It
shouldn’t be much longer now before he and the others are back for
good.  And it should only be a few days before we have the other
banners.  In the meantime, we need some help with other ideas for
the party we’re going to throw.  Now if only I had some more help
with it!”

          “You may
be good at sneaking in the forest, but you should never try it with
words.” Rickkter shook his head and sighed. “I’ll help you plan your
little party.  If only to get out of my room and away from your
books!”

          “Oh, would
you?” Misha pretended to be surprised, for which he received an elbow in
the ribs from Caroline. “Ooof!  Glad to have your help, Rick! 
Come on and I’ll show you what we’ve got so far.”  Rickkter shook
his head one more time, then did his best to follow the two to Misha’s
office.


----------


          Captain
Aldanto, Darius, and Jerome all went ashore after the Racasse docked at
an ice-slick wharf.  The Keepers kept below decks to stay out of
sight while the humans secured transport.  Word was likely to spread
anyway.  Seamen coming ashore for the first time in three weeks
would be hard pressed to keep quiet about something as amazing as
Keepers, even if their Captain had promised extra shifts to any who
blabbed.

          But for a
few hours at least they did not have to worry.  Which proved
necessary for, despite Jerome’s familiarity with the city, Aldanto’s
promise of pyrocks, and Darius’s extra coin, it proved exceedingly
difficult to find a merchant or mercenary willing to deliver them north
to Metamor.  The litany of excuses was unending but most boiled down
to four things: they lacked the men, horses, or carriages required, they
were tied up with prior contracts and couldn’t help them, they would
never do business in the demon-cursed city of Metamor, or they feared
being trapped at Metamor by weather or banditry and suffering the touch
of those demon-curses.

          In the end
they found a factor for a Metamorian merchant who gave them a reasonable
price once they learned they would be transporting a few
Metamorians.  They would have to share with bundles of cloth waiting
to be turned into beautiful garments but at least they would have
transport all the way to the Keep.  With a bit more negotiation they
were able to obtain a promise that the carriages would leave the city
that very day.  It cost them half a dozen pyrocks and half of both
Aldanto and Darius’s coins but they had their transport.

          When they
returned to the Racasse Aldanto gave instructions to his first mate on
what to do until they returned.  The chief task would be to help
keep the dock free from ice.  They didn’t want to have to winter
here if they could avoid it.  Aldanto and half-a-dozen of his men
would accompany them to Metamor, but they planned only to stay the one
day.

          The
Keepers readied all of their gear but kept hidden in their
quarters.  Jerome, Lindsey, and Andares carried their gear for them
while the others dressed in obscuring cloaks.  Even after the
carriages arrived from the Urseil family factor they waited until the
docks were quiet with most of the workers home for their afternoon
meal.  They then snuck onto the covered carriages and lay hidden
beneath heavy woolen tarps, snuggled together to keep warm.  Only
Guernef remained behind.  Once night fell he would fly north along
the road to join them.

          Charles
was next to James in the wagon, with Abafouq crouched behind him
muttering to the pebbles Jerome had collected for him.  Jerome sat
in the wagon with the tarp wrapped up to his waist, so they could see his
legs folded crossways.  It was dark but warm, and also very bumpy as
they meandered through the city streets.

          They kept
quiet as best they could.  James grunted a few times when the wheels
hit a particularly unyielding stone. “I almost wish I were out there on
all fours pulling these things!” Charles just chuckled and gently stroked
his vine.

          All in all
they were six wagons heading north from Ellcaran through the winter wild
toward distant Metamor.  Two wagons for cloth, two for supplies, and
two more to hide the Keepers who did not appear human.  Between the
seamen Aldanto brought, and the mercenaries in the Urseil employ, as well
as the hidden Keepers, the wagons had more than enough protection to see
them safely north.

          The first
day brought them along the coast road half a day north.  They
continued well on into night before stopping.  After weeks of
sea-travel, Aldanto’s men were all familiar with the sight of the
Keepers.  And the men driving the wagons had all been to Metamor
several times so found the Keepers just one more novelty for their
journey.  They shared food and ale around the same fires, swapping
stories of the road and rumours of the doings of distant dukes. 
Only Guernef was treated with suspicion by the men of Ellcaran; but the
Nauh-kaee seemed to prefer intimidating others so took no offence.

          The
weather cooperated with them that night and all the next day.  The
clouds cleared from the sky to reveal a cool blue from horizon to horizon
interrupted by the pale yellow light of the winter sun.  Their
breath hung in the air.  Icy mud cracked and snow made powdery loose
by the bitting chill squeaked as the wagon wheels crunched down the
road.  The Keepers stayed in the wagons ready to draw the tarps over
them at the first sign of other travellers, but the land was as empty as
the sky.  Just before twilight the coastal road joined with the main
road from Braasem to Giftum, and they found a hostel to spend the night
in.  The men did.  The beastly Keepers made do with creeping
into the hayloft after the dark fell and picking their way amongst vermin
nests and forgotten wine bottles left behind after a secret amorous
assignation drained them. The night’s sleep was still more comfortable
than many they had endured on the long road to Marzac.

          They began
before dawn’s first light.  Lanterns dangled from each wagon, like
six bright fireflies dancing and weaving up the northward road.  Old
forests and fallow farms lay on either side, both denuded by the season
but also full of the promise of life in the months to come.  The sky
remained clear all that day too.  The evening brought them within
sight of the Marchbourne river and the city of Giftum flanking either
bank.

          Another
night in a traveller’s hostel, another night skulking through hay and
avoiding unpleasantries their noses made all too vivid, and they entered
the Northern Midlands proper.  Knowing they were crossing lands that
swore allegiance to Duke Thomas filled them all with good cheer.  It
was the first time in over seven months that they had set foot in such
lands, and it seemed to them that some unnatural burden was lifted from
their shoulders.  Even Lindsey, who had been dour ever since he’d
ripped that foul black thing from his pouch, managed a smile or two.

          Abafouq
spent his days working on pyrock enchantment, and by the time they passed
Komley on the sixth day, he had the half-dozen agreed to for
passage.  He made a few more the next day for himself.  This
kept him isolated despite riding with Charles, James, and Jerome. 
He did converse with the others when they stopped for the evening, but
otherwise he stayed in his reclusive shell.

          Lindsey
was hardly better, and Andares rarely said anything anyway.  Jessica
and Kayla who rode with them more than made up for their taciturn
manner.  The hawk and skunk conversed on any and every topic that
came to mind, which more often than not elicited embarrassed chuckles
from any man who happened to be listening in.

          Aldanto’s
men kept a wary eye open, though as they neared the southern extremes of
the mountains, they gawked at the huge peaks rising up like jagged knives
from the northern horizon.  The Urseil men were wary, but all had
the droopy eyed look of men who had travelled this path many times and
knew all of its tricks and false turns.  Darius Egland remained
stoic, though his expression grew more and more pained as they miles wore
on beneath them.

          Charles
eagerly promised to reunite Jerome with his student Garigan, and also to
introduce him to his youngest son Ladero who was gifted with the Sondeck,
in addition to his wife and four other children.  He described the
home the Keep had made for them next to Long House, and expressed his
earnest hope that Kimberly had moved his family there while he’d been
gone.  But he also spoke of Glen Avery and its many charms and
wonders.  Jerome listened patiently to his friend jump from topic to
topic, but could not repress his own enthusiasm for the wonders his
friend the rat descried.

          The day
after they passed through Komley a snow storm struck that delayed them a
full day.  But the hostel and stables were warm and dry, and the
only thing they could complain about was a temporary delay.  The
following day they were on the road again.  They reached Midtown,
the last major city before they passed under the shadow of the Curses of
Metamor, by the end of the day.  Their wheels struggled against the
new fallen snow where it was deepest, which seemed to be everywhere
around Midtown.

          But by the
end of their day, they could all look to the north, the mouth of the
Valley opening before them. The white peaks of the Great Barrier Range
pressed down on them from the northeast, while the jagged but stately
heights of the Dragon mountains brooded through snow fog in the
west.  Although the night was upon them and they could see nothing,
they all knew that to the north lay the spires of Metamor Keep.  One
day more and they would be home.

          Though
they lay down with eyes shut, neither Charles nor any of the other
Keepers were able to get any sleep.  Their long journey was finally
coming to an end.  Charles, as he lay beneath his blankets, almost
wished that it didn’t have to end.  He would miss rising in the
morning to the faces of his friends.  But he yearned more to wake by
the side of his wife, and that thought, and may others like it, kept him
from sleep.

          Tomorrow
couldn’t come soon enough for the Keepers.


----------


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


Charles Matthias 


 



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