[Mkguild] Fellowship of the Egg (2/3)

[C. Matthias]

And the second part!

Metamor Keep: Fellowship of the Egg
By Christof Bradford and Charles Matthias

         Miriam tried to listen attentively as Emily recited the 
Fellowship rules.  The first she'd heard from Patric the chameleon 
seminarian and so nodded.  But the second caught her by surprise again.
         "Second, the Fellowship takes care of its own.  I won't deny 
that there are many arguments, but at the end of the day we look out 
for each other." Emily's head seemed to turn in their direction and 
the crocodile flinched a bit. "Those of you who are new will quickly 
discover that there is no such thing as a member of the Fellowship 
who will not come to your aid when you need it.  And to make sure 
that we keep it this way, we have a very strict rule about our 
arguments.  Fighting with tongue and pen are accepted, but using 
tooth and claw against Fellowship siblings is forbidden.  It is a 
vile breach of faith and should never be contemplated let alone done."
         Miriam turned her long snout slightly toward Thalberg and 
asked, "Has it ever happened?"
         "Aye, but only very rarely.  And it never ends well for any 
when it does.  Our claws and our jaws are very, very strong." He 
tapped her hand once and his eyes seemed to warm. "I will show you 
what you can do.  You may one day need it, but never raise a claw 
against another of the Fellowship, nor any other Keeper."
         Miriam took a deep breath, her scaled chest expanding within 
her white robe, and turned back to the Perch.  Emily had paused after 
stating the rule as several smaller conversations like her own had 
commenced.  She could see several of her friends from Bradanes who'd 
also grown scales or feathers receiving similar elaboration.
         But eventually Emily waved one paw to silence the peaceful 
dialogue and lifted her beastly head to speak anew. "Third, we must 
all respect the Perch.  Whoever has been elected to sit on the Perch 
is to be accorded the respect and the loyalty due to his or her 
office.  I am the one who sits upon it now because I have been 
elected.  One day that will be another, perhaps even one already with 
us in this hall.  Whoever sits here must be given respect, their 
decisions and orders followed, and no foul word or thought should you 
ever direct toward it.  To do otherwise will tear the Fellowship apart."
         Again, Emily paused and Miriam whispered to the Steward. 
"How did Emily get elected?"
         Thalberg shook his head. "That is a long story and I promise 
I will tell you later.  Suffice it to say, Emily and her husband 
Raymond have been here since the Battle of Three Gates as have I.  We 
found this place together."
         "Together?" Miriam's long tail dragged through the warm sand 
in surprise.
         "As I said, it is a long story.  But of those of us scaled, 
I hold the highest rank and she kept her wits about her better than 
most." Thalberg almost looked embarrassed as he spoke.  He gestured 
at the Perch with one claw and turned his snout resolutely toward 
it.  Miriam sighed, her thoughts and feelings a jumbled mess.
         "And lastly, the Perch does not honour blood over 
wisdom.  Raymond and I have been blessed with a clutch of eggs which 
will hatch soon.  I will love my children dearly and raise them to be 
good and wise siblings to us all.  But the Perch will not be passed 
to my children because they are my children.  If any of my children 
would sit upon the Perch it will be because they have demonstrated 
the strength of body, mind, and soul required to be accepted by the 
Perch.  That wisdom is what we need.  And that wisdom will always 
take precedence."
         Miriam blinked in surprise, jaw opening an inch but she 
checked her startled gasp.  The office would not pass to her 
children?  That was how it was done with priests, but nobility?  What 
chaos would come from that?
         "It's just the nature of the Perch," Thalberg explained in a 
soft, guttural baritone. "Those who built the Perch long before 
humans ever set foot in the Valley ruled themselves very differently 
from our people."
         Miriam turned her head toward her companion alligator. "How 
old is the Perch?"
         But the Steward shrugged and spread his scaled hands wide. 
"Who can say?  Jon may have some ideas about the Tened, but even he 
doesn't know how long ago they lived and died.  I'm not sure even 
Emily knows, but I think she knows more than she lets on." He sighed 
with the weight of remembered work. "I do not begrudge her that!"
         The crocodile who'd frightened Miriam earlier turned to her 
and snorted. "The Perch is the only way to run things.  There's no 
question who is leader and it will never be a milk-sucker.  You can 
always trust the Perch!"
         "Yousef, never use such words around me again," Thalberg 
replied darkly, one hand reaching protectively for the Ducal insignia 
on his red sash.
         The crocodile sat a little taller, his long tail sticking 
out straight behind him. "Don't wave that around at me!" Still, he 
turned away and grumbled inaudibly to himself rather than rise to 
Thalberg's challenge.
         A gecko moved close to Miriam and Thalberg, "You'll have to 
forgive Yousef.  He has cause to feel the way he does.  Has the good 
Steward told you anything of the history of Metamor or our 
Fellowship?  Of the ducal vassal whose name will never be spoken in 
this Hall except as a curse?"
         Miriam shook her large head, one yellow eye fixed on 
Thalberg and the other on the gecko.  The latter tilted his head to 
one side and rubbed a oddly-shaped hand along the back of his neck. 
"She... he did terrible things to Yousef's wife.  And to many, many 
others.  For years and the Duke did nothing."
         Thalberg grunted and shifted, long tail digging into the 
warm sand. "Had he but known what was truly happening there, he would 
have put a stop to it sooner.  It was a blind eye that he is still ashamed of."
         The gecko nodded energetically, then began shaking his head. 
"I believe you, Thalberg.  But Yousef..." He glanced at the crocodile 
who'd moved away as if the very mention of those times was too 
painful to hear. "Yousef has never been able to look at any mammal 
the same again."
         "It is wrong to blame them for crimes they did not commit." 
Thalberg's yellow eyes narrowed atop his large head. "Yousef should 
know better."  The gecko shrugged but said nothing more.  Miriam 
wished the Steward would stay closer.  She was feeling rather small 
despite the large size the Curse had given her.
         All eyes returned to the Perch and Emily who looked 
distinctly unhappy.  "Now before we can enjoy our festivities 
together, there is one item of business and it concerns the heating 
potions that Pascal the alchemist has been making for us.  What we 
have now will wear out in a couple weeks, and there is a problem in 
getting a fresh supply.  Verne has informed me that Pascal has 
doubled her price."  Emily's words were greeted with squawks and 
roars of consternation as the assembly broke up into knots of worried 
conversation.  Miriam, not understanding the importance of what was 
said, listened.
         A boa called out over the din, "How are we supposed to keep 
our eggs warm now? The birds can't incubate both their eggs, and the 
eggs of reptiles.  And I'm certainly not going to trust my children 
to a stranger!"
         "She's right!  If we were to pay Pascal's new price, how 
would the Fellowship be able to feed our poorer kin, or purchase 
other supplies?  Even if those of us with means were to pay more in 
taxes, I don't doubt that the Fellowship would be ruined," a rooster 
said, waving a wing at the snake.
         "The problem's Verne," Kelly said with a nod exaggerated by 
his long neck.  "Sure, he's quite good at auditing our finances, but 
he's a very poor bargainer.  Ms. Prickly Back is taking advantage of 
Verne's timidity.  We should send someone back to her and renegotiate 
the deal."  The ostrich stamped a foot on the sand.  "Someone strong, 
someone firmminded, someone who's not Verne."
         And that caused an even great eruption as a third of the 
Fellowship shouted in favour of Verne, another third sided with 
Kelly, the last third kept quiet, and poor Verne, a turtle that 
Thalberg pointed out, slunk his head backward into his shell to hide. 
"Verne couldn't negotiate his way out of his shell!""It's not Verne's 
fault!  We should just pay the prices and trust in Eli!" "Why can't 
some of you with money buy us more pyrocks?" "It's Verne's 
fault!  He's going to let our children freeze!" "He'd never do that, 
he's been good for us!" And so forth.
         After nearly a minute of imprecations Emily hooted for 
silence.  It was granted only begrudgingly because everyone wanted to 
say something.  But the komodo was firm and swung her head back and 
forth to glare at the worst offenders. "This is not helping!  Verne 
informed me of this a week ago, and he came to Thalberg at the 
beginning of the year.  I have not had a chance to speak with the 
alchemist to learn why she has raised her rates.  Thalberg, did you 
learn anything?"
         The alligator grunted when all eyes turned his way.  Miriam 
felt a little clearer on what was at stake, and she found herself 
hoping that the Steward's answer would set all minds at ease.  He 
stood up so that some of the smaller Fellowship members might see him 
better. "I have not had the time to speak with her at length as I 
would like to do.  She was able to explain to me very briefly that 
this was not personal but a matter of logistics.  There is some 
ingredient she needs that she has not been able to procure in 
sufficient quantities.  That is all I know.  I do not believe Verne 
is to blame for this." Finished, Thalberg returned to his seat on the 
log next to Miriam.
         "It's not fair," Verne squeaked from the edge of his shell. 
"She shouldn't do this to us."
         "I don't believe she has a choice."
         Emily put one paw up to forestall any more objections. "If 
what Thalberg says is true, then we may have no choice but to pay."
         "He barely talked to her!" Yousef snapped.
         "I will talk with her," Emily assured him in a strong voice. 
"I believe what Thalberg says is true, but I will go and speak with 
her and learn as much as there is to know.  Perhaps there might even 
be some way we can help her obtain what she needs.  We may have the 
necessary ingredient and not even know it.  We should not be afraid."
         She glanced briefly at Kelly and Yousef, beastly eyes hard, 
and then down at Verne who had started to emerge from his shell. 
"When I speak to Pascal, I will see if she can lower her prices.  If 
not, then I will continue to trust Verne in these matters.  We will 
just try find a way to pay for them and hope for the best.  I will 
discuss ways we can do this with a few others later.  And we will 
also discuss ways to afford more pyrocks.  I assure you nobody's eggs 
will suffer the cold.  Not mine, not yours.  We are the Fellowship of 
the Egg and we will persevere together."
         The last bit caused many hoots and bellows of delight from 
the assembled avian and reptilian Keepers.  Miriam could not help but 
feel some relief in their delight.  She and they may appear strange, 
but they were united in a way that made her feel welcome.  She leaned 
in closer to the alligator.
         Emily's long tail lashed back and forth as she lifted 
herself a little higher on the Perch.  The exquisite granite slab 
seemed almost to glow beneath her weight. "And now that you know, I 
do not wish any to let this news dampen their spirits.  We are here 
to celebrate another Yuletide.  This means different things to 
Follower and Lothanasi and we do not ask any to celebrate in any way 
opposed to their beliefs.  But for those who wish, celebrate!  And 
celebrate with joy!  For we are here another year, awaiting the 
coming Spring and the Summer beyond.  And most especially, we are 
awaiting the hatching of many more young who will bring us a true 
Summer; a Summer of joys and hardships but mostly of joys.  So now 
celebrate as you wish as a member of the Fellowship!"
         Emily almost launched herself from the Perch amidst the 
hootings and shouts of delight.  She was met first by a reddish-brown 
mottled snake who hugged her with his coils. This moment lasted only 
a few seconds before several others mobbed her with questions and 
concerns.  Miriam lost sight of her seconds later.
         Thalberg stood up, and Miriam was quick to follow him.  He 
inclined his snout toward her and sighed. "I'm afraid I'm one of the 
ones that Emily will want to talk to about this situation with Pascal 
and Verne.  Will it upset you if I leave you with another for a time?"
         Miriam wondered why he asked and she also wondered what he'd 
do if she said it would bother her.  But she knew how unfair it would 
be to ask such a thing and so merely shook her snout back and forth. 
"I don't want to be left alone though."
         "I will introduce you to someone I trust." Softer, he added, 
"Someone who doesn't hate mammals." He gestured for her to follow him 
and she did, clawed feet enjoying the warmth of the sand though being 
careful of Thalberg's wide tail that swept out little dunes as he 
passed.  These she stepped through, before sweeping out some of her 
own in her wake.
         Thalberg took her toward the egg alcoves where several 
couples had gone to see their young still in their eggs again.  But 
this time he brought her first to a small lizard draped in a similar 
white robe to Miriam's.  Her scales were a dark green like forest 
moss, but around her neck were large flaps of skin that stretched as 
she breathed, and extended like a lady's fan when she saw them approaching.
         "Oh, good Steward!" she said with a crooning and chirping 
laugh. "Don't you know better than to sneak up on an old woman?"
         Thalberg chuckled and bowed his head, jaws open in a saurian 
smile. "Forgive me, Tabitha.  I didn't know I could still sneak at all."
         The lizard laughed, her frills bouncing up and down against 
her robes.  Her round, green and black eyes found Miriam and she 
stood a little taller, long tail digging a hole into the sand at her 
splay-toed feet. "And who might you be, dear one?  Thalberg didn't 
tell old Tabitha that he was bringing a friend."
         Miriam felt at once immensely relieved but at the same time 
oddly uncertain.  This Tabitha reminded her of her grandmother who'd 
mercifully died a few years before the poison had disfigured all of 
Bradanes.  But she'd never seen Thalberg so casual before 
either.  Were they related?
         "This is Miriam, Tabitha.  She's newly arrived from Bradanes 
and I have taken her on my staff.  She served the Lord of Bradanes in 
the kitchens, and now she serves Duke Thomas in his.  Miriam, this is 
Tabitha.  She is one of the Nursery Mothers who keep watch on our eggs."
         Tabitha opened her arms and before Miriam could object 
hugged her completely round the back with a lizard's long limbs and 
fingers.  The alligator stared down at the top of her head but after 
a few second's awkward uncertainly managed to hug her in return.  She 
had to be a grandmother.
         "Welcome to Metamor, dear one," Tabitha said as she let go, 
resting her fingertips on Miriam's scaled hands. "Don't let any of 
the younger folk scare you now.  You are in good company here."
         Thalberg stepped back and bowed his head. "Is it all right 
if I leave Miriam in your company?  I will need to speak with Emily 
for a little while."
         The frilled lizard opened her jaw wide which made her frills 
stick out from her neck, revealing a startling crimson design amidst 
the usual green on the interior of her frills. "Oh, it will be just 
fine.  You go and help poor Emily and Verne and I'll keep Miriam company."
         Thalberg glanced once more to Miriam, but the lady alligator 
did her best to smile and so he moved on.  After he disappeared 
through the crowd of feathers and scales, Miriam returned her yellow 
eyes to Tabitha and asked, "Are you both family?  I've never seen him 
so comfortable before.  He's always stiff and focussed on his duties."
         "Oh, that's Thalberg," Tabitha chided with a click of her 
tongue as she shut her jaws.  Her teeth, while not as imposing as 
Miriam's own, were short and looked wickedly sharp.  Still, Miriam 
felt perfectly at ease seeing them. "His first loyalty and his true 
family has always been Duke Thomas.  But aye, dear one, he is 
family.  His aunt was married to my brother many years gone.  Both 
died before Three Gates, and all their children with them.  And the 
rest of Thalberg's family died during Three Gates.  Very sad."
         "But you have family too?  Are you a grandmother?"
         Tabitha trilled a laugh, long tail lashing through the sand 
as she stood a little higher on her toes. "Oh yes!  I live with my 
daughter and her husband and their three children at Twin 
Hearth's.  Nyman's a good soul, for a dog.  He doesn't mind having a 
crazy old lizard for a mother-in-law!"
         Miriam felt immediately at ease with this woman.  "And your husband?"
         "Oh, Duncan lost his life at the Three Gates too.  But now I 
have a family here with the Fellowship.  And I get to be a 
grandmother all over again with our hatchlings!" She chirped in her 
delight and took Miriam by the arm, leading her to the curtained 
alcoves. "I come here every other day to keep watch on them.  I love 
telling them stories about my own grandchildren and the mischief 
they've gotten into.  Come, you need to see them.  They are so tender 
and precious."
         Miriam allowed the frilled lizard to lead her and soon they 
ducked beneath the heavy tapestries into the deeper warmth of the 
nursery.  The nursery alcoves were divided into sections allowing for 
half-a-dozen couples to incubate their eggs.  Only four of the slots 
were occupied, and around two of them parents were gathered.  Nearest 
were two birds, one of them a cardinal with bright red plumage and 
crown, while the other was a thrush of some sort with short beak and 
light brown underbelly.  These two crouched over a small nest with 
only two eggs half buried in the sand.  With the claw on one wing tip 
the father nudged the eggs gently, tail feathers low and crooned a 
little song that seemed both hopeful and melancholy.
         Beyond them was the gecko that had spoken with her earlier 
and a slender lizard with very smooth, small scales.  These two gazed 
in rapturous wonder at the small clutch of leathery eggs buried in the sand.
         Tabitha knelt down next to a nest with three eggs and Miriam 
followed her, finding the sand very warm against her knees.  The 
white robes they bore were already covered in sand, but strangely it 
did not irritate her the way sand once had.  The eggs were large and 
oblong, with the harder appearance of bird's eggs.  But they were 
larger than any bird's eggs she'd ever seen!
         "Aren't they precious!" Tabitha crooned and gently stroked 
her long fingers along the top of one of them.  Miriam felt slightly 
nervous as she looked at the eggs.  These were laid by a husband and 
wife in the Fellowship.  These would one day hatch and be their 
children.  And if she ever had children, they would hatch from eggs 
too!  The chain of logic unsettled her, but still there was something 
in her that knew there couldn't be anything wrong with it.  Children 
were children.  And these would have fathers and mothers who loved 
them dearly and would teach them how to live as birds or reptiles at Metamor.
         And the Fellowship would be there to help them.
         Tabitha looked up form her cooing at the eggs and gently put 
a hand on Miriam's shoulder. "Don't be afraid.  Just be 
gentle.  These little ones won't hatch for another month yet.  Our 
eggs take longer to hatch you know."
         Miriam started to reach forward but paused. "Where are their parents?"
         "Oh, celebrating with the Lothanasi.  They came by 
earlier.  I can introduce you if you like."
         The alligator shook her head.  Despite seeking help from 
Sathmore for the horrible disease they of Bradanes had suffered, she 
still felt uncomfortable thinking about the pagans.  Even if Thalberg 
was one too.  Instead, she followed Tabitha's prompting and gently 
put the tip of her fingers against the nearest egg.
         The first thing she noticed was the warmth.  Not as warm as 
the sand, but ever so gentle and vibrant.  That vivifying spark, the 
essence within, rode up through her finger and into her heart.  Her 
chest swelled.  Her saurian jaws cracked open and the stiff corners 
lifted up into a broad and expansive, and utterly entranced smile.
         A small part of her wondered how she could be transported by 
this egg when a month before while still human she would have had no 
greater response to any egg except to wonder if when cooked it would 
satisfy her hunger.  And in fact she'd handled many such eggs working 
in the kitchens for Thalberg and had never felt the slightest 
difference.  But now....
         No wonder Tabitha served here as a Nursery mother to these 
little ones still trapped within their eggs.  They were precious beyond words.
         Miriam's thoughts were interrupted by the ostrich, Kelly, 
walking past her. He reached into a satchel slung over his back and 
took out a single large yellowish-white egg. Kelly set the egg down 
on an empty patch of sand near Miriam, and then carefully squatted down on it.
         "Two, maybe three months, and he'll be cracking the shell of 
his egg. I wish his mother could be here on that day."
         Miriam glanced at the ostrich and felt her heart tighten in 
her chest. "What happened?"
         Kelly hung his head and sighed, "Jolene died suddenly a day 
after laying Little Kelly here. She stumbled, and then fell. It was 
so quick. We were walking through the trees at Glen Avery to visit 
some friends, and then she just. . ."
         Miriam wanted to reach out and console him, but Tabitha was 
there at the ostrich's side first. The lizard draped one arm over his 
back and shuddered with him. "She's looking down on you from Heaven, 
Kelly. She's praying for you and the little one. Don't you forget it!"
         Kelly shook his head, "But that still leaves me alone here 
with Anna, and what of our son when he hatches? His mother won't be 
there to greet him, or to feed him. We'll get by, I know we will, but 
it will be hard, and I miss her so."
         Miriam felt awful and wished she could think of something to 
say. She'd seen so many die because of the sickness of Bradanes, but 
still there were no words of comfort. She moved next to the ostrich, 
opposite of Tabitha, and put a scaled paw against his feathered flank.
         Kelly honked with humour tinged with bitterness, "But enough 
of my troubles. Let's talk about you. I never really did get properly 
introduced to you when you came here with Thalberg. What do you do? 
Do you have a craft?"
         Miriam looked startled at the sudden change of mood and took 
a step back. "Well, I came from Bradanes... I help Thalberg in the 
Kitchens now."
         "I've had a change of path myself. I was once a skilled 
tailor. Nobles and landed knights across the Midlands would hire my 
needle and scissors. That all came to an end eight years ago when I 
came to this valley to make Court wear for a newly landed knight 
under Duke Hassan.
         "I had the misfortune to arrive shortly before a siege. Next 
thing I know, I'm like this," Kelly said, waving his feathered arms 
as if they were proper wings. "And I found my knowledge of the ways 
of thread and needle useless."
         Miriam glanced out of the corner of one eye at the many who 
wore nothing at all. "But most at Metamor still wear clothes."
         "I, well, my heart just wasn't in it any more. Those of us 
in the Fellowship who wear feathers have found that wearing anything 
else over our own plumage to be most unpleasant. Have you ever worn 
truly inferior wool? The kind that scratches at your skin with every 
subtle movement that you make?"
         Kelly nodded his beak as if there could be no argument. "And 
a tailor who can not bear to wear his own work is like a cook who can 
not stomach his own cooking."
         Miriam's crocodilian jaws frowned a little. "I've seen some 
birds wearing vests."
         "Because they must. You'll find that those vests are worn 
because their duties demand the discomfort. The Fellowship has found 
that clothing is needed only for the purposes of status, and 
protection from harm and the elements. Those vests are the uniforms 
of servants and soldiers."
         Tabitha shook her head and rolled her eyes as the familiar 
diatribe started once again. Miriam looked down at the white smock 
she wore. "I need to dress against the cold. I don't have any 
discomfort from the fabrics. Couldn't you make clothes for us?"
         "Who do you think made the clothes that dress you at this 
moment? I made these," he fingered Miriam's smock, "to help those, 
like you, who are new to the Fellowship. I also have worked with 
other tailors here at Metamor to make warm clothing against the chill 
of winter. While I will never again be Tailor to the Nobility, I 
could hardly deny my skills to the Fellowship."
         Miriam nodded, backing a step away from him. "That is good 
of you, even if Thalberg says you do not approve of wearing clothing here."
         "I approve of clothing when it is truly needed. I just don't 
see the point of any in the Fellowship needing to 'cover their nakedness'."
         Tabitha gives him a swat on the side with one long-fingered 
paw. "I'm an old woman! I will dress proper whether you think I need 
it or not!"
         "Madam, that was entirely uncalled for!" he said, rubbing 
the 'injured' area with his beak.
         Tabitha's neck flaps extended, "I barely touched you, you big baby!"
         "Hmmph!" He stretched his wings back as if hunching his 
shoulders. "No more linen for you and yours, and you can forget any 
of the silks or cotton that Norbert and Richard sell."
         Tabitha snorted and her neck flaps bounced against her 
shoulder. "I can always go to the Urseils. Besides, I look best in 
wool anyway!"
         "You're impossible, you know that, right?" Kelly raised up 
on his crouch and lowered his head under his body to turn his son's egg.
         Tabitha crossed her arms in triumph. "I've raised six 
children and have three grandchildren of my own. I have a right to be 
impossible!"
         Miriam had at first been staring aghast at the two, but it 
finally occurred to her that these two were friends enjoying some 
playful repartee. She chuckled under her breath, a deep throaty sound 
that made her chest rumble.
         "I concede to you, madame," Kelly said as he lifted his head 
from the egg and his feathered body concealed it again. "You are impossible!"
         Tabitha croaked a laugh and shook her head. "Thank you, 
Kelly." She then rested her long fingered hand on the ostrich's back. 
"You won't be a father alone, you know that, right?"
         Kelly nodded, his eyes gazing down at the warmed sand. 
"There's the Fellowship."
         "There's always the Fellowship," Tabitha agreed.  The old 
frilled lizard grandmother stood and took Miriam by the arm and 
gestured back into the main hall. "Now come with me dearie, and leave 
Kelly to his child.  I'll introduce you to some others who'll know 
all sorts of things you'll want to know about having scales!"
         Miriam took one last look at the ostrich nesting in an 
almost brood and then followed her new friend.  Her heart wished to 
beat with joy, misery and fear.

         Around the perch a dozen figures, half of feather and half 
of scale, clustered.  Emily, her sandy yellow scales rippling with 
each breath, hunched on the perch and cast her eyes across them as 
they gathered near.  Her whole body twisted on the perch to look 
directly at Verne the box-turtle, "As the Fellowship's Exchequer you 
have a better grasp on our finances than anyone else among us. So 
tell us, how will Pascal's new prices affect the budget?"
         The box turtle stretched out his neck, "If we were to divert 
the nearly 300 gold suns we have saved to purchase the land in Glen 
Avery, we'd just be able to afford new sand warmers while holding our 
budget steady until the Summer Gathering. After that? We'd have to 
decide between warm sand for the eggs or buying meat and vegetables 
for our indigent."
         "So, in short, you're telling us that by spending nearly 
every mite that we've saved up for our new Hall, we'd buy ourselves 
six months, but after that, our poor have a choice between starving 
or watching their children die in the egg?" Richard squawked.  The 
rooster's comb thrummed with indignation.
         Verne rubbed his stubby fingered hands together and nodded, 
goggle-eyed and timorous. "I'm afraid that is true.  It's not 
fair.  We've been so frugal for so long and now this."
         "We aren't destitute yet," Patrick the chameleon said with a 
soft hissing whisper.  The seminarian was the representative of the 
Ecclesia in the Fellowship's council.  He often appeared overwhelmed 
at the thought of standing in for all Followers, but his judgements 
were usually reasoned and calm, something Emily prized.
         "No, we aren't," Emily agreed quickly. "Thalberg tells us 
that Pascal is in need of some ingredient that she has not been able 
to obtain.  If this is true, Richard, what are the chances you and 
the other merchants might be able to procure a new source?"
         The rooster narrowed yellow eyes and spread red-feathers 
around his neck. "It depends on what the ingredient is.  But if 
Pascal is having trouble finding it then we aren't likely to have any 
better luck."
         "I bet she has enough," the crocodile Yousef, who was 
sitting on the opposite end from Thalberg and pointedly not looking 
at the Steward. "She just wants to see how much more she can squeeze 
from us.  Verne isn't strong enough to convince her."
         "Do you doubt my word?" Thalberg murmured in a half-growl.
         Yousef sat a little taller on his log and crossed his arms, 
snout tilting up into the air. "Verne asked you to look into this a 
month ago and you've barely had the time.  You know how important 
this is to us.  You should have made the time."
         Copernicus, who sat next to Thalberg, put one hand on the 
alligator's arm. "I can attest that things have been very busy for 
our dear Steward.  His grace's marriage has added many burdens to his 
shoulders."
         Thalberg grunted and nodded to the chief representative for 
Metamor's military. "It is true.  I do take this issue very seriously 
and apologize that I was unable to investigate deeper."
         "Now it jeopardizes our plans to build a new Hall in Glen 
Avery," Yousef complained in a superior tone. "What are we going to 
do when the next Yule comes around and we no longer fit within this 
hall?  I've talked with the refugees form Bradanes, and there are 
many, many more coming.  And many of them will be gifted with scales 
or feathers.  We cannot house them all who must flee the milk-suckers."
         "Yousef!" Thalberg simmered, "I warned you never to use that 
term around me again!"
         "Thalberg," Emily said with a firm hiss. "Enough." She then 
swung her whole body over to the crocodile and glowered from the 
perch. "And Yousef, you will never use that term around me 
either.  You insult the Perch by using words of such hateful foulness 
in this Council. We will maintain proper decorum at these meetings. 
If you can't find it in yourself to be civil while seated before the 
Perch, I can and will cast you out of this Council." Emily stood on 
the Perch, head held high on her long neck, as she stared with 
reptilian intensity down the crocodile.
         Yousef tensed but lowered his head. "Forgive me.  Just the 
thought of it..." he struggled to find the right word, his whole body 
and tail contorting as if squeezing through a particularly narrow and 
crooked passage. "It upsets me."
         "We cannot settle that here," Patrick said gently. "What we 
should be thinking of is ways to avoid ruin."
         "I see a few possibilities," Verne offered in a trembling voice.
         "Go on," Emily coaxed.
         "We could buy pyrocks with some of that money.  They last 
much longer, and with the rise in prices for sand warmers, they won't 
cost us too much more."
         Richard shook his head back and forth, red comb bouncing 
from side to side. "That will only drain our cache faster!"
         Verne nodded his head, "But we'd not have to spend as much 
in the future.  We would be able to build up a reserve again in the 
years that follow."
         "That still delays us from affording a new Hall for many 
years," complained a blue jay.
         "It's just one idea," Verne said meekly. "We could also have 
the wealthy give more to cover the expenses.  I know there is some 
wealth amongst our membership." His eyes cast quickly at the rooster 
and then at Thalberg, but did not linger on either. "But I know that 
is not ideal either.  Our third option is to try to bring more work 
into the Hall."
         "How so?" Emily asked.  There were perhaps two dozen who for 
one reason or another could not spend more than an hour or two beyond 
the heated walls of the Fellowship Hall.  A few of them would slip 
into a catatonic stupor at the mere scent of a mammal and stayed here 
always.  They busied themselves with tending the eggs and keeping the 
hall clean and a few sundry tasks that were brought from time to time.
         "The Writer's Guild always has need of scribes to copy their 
manuscripts.  Very few of us here have lost complete use of our 
hands.  The Hall could serve as a Scriptorium some of the time to 
help offset our expenses."
         "Many cannot read," Patrick pointed out gently.
         "But they could still learn to write, even if they do not 
know what they are writing."
         Emily nodded. "Go on."
         "We could also teach some to help sew.  Kelly could use the 
aid in his garments.  Perhaps he could be persuaded to sell what we 
make here to those not of the Fellowship."
         Yousef rumbled and shook his head. "We don't need mammal money."
         "Yes we do," Verne replied, sticking his head out as far as 
it would go from his shell. "If we didn't, we wouldn't be discussing this!"
         But Yousef would not be so easily dismissed. "And what 
happens when you bring fabrics or vellum that smell of 
mammals?  You'll upset everyone!"
         Verne shrank back a handspan and lowered his eyes. 
"Perhaps.  That is a risk."
         Emily leaned forward and began to nod her heavy snout up and 
down. "I think it is worth exploring some more.  And it's the best 
idea I've heard so far.  But how do we rid them of other 
scents?  Cloth or vellum?  Or anything else we wish to bring in here?"
         Thalberg lifted his hand and gestured at the sash across his 
yellow chest. "Apart from cleansing this, I do leave it to air with 
certain incense that helps mask any lingering odours.  They are not 
expensive and I can provide a small supply to begin."
         "Good," Emily glanced at the rest. "Are there any other 
ideas for work that can be done in the Hall?  We cannot have them 
writing all the time."
         While the others began mulling ideas and discussing them, 
almost level-headed for once, Emily leaned back on the perch and felt 
her muscles begin to relax in the sultry warmth.  Beside her, the 
spectral Tened chirped a laugh.  Her voice slithered through the air 
and against the membranes that had become Emily's ears. "They are 
learning to work together better.  I am impressed.  They have never 
come to agreement so quickly."
         Emily didn't reply but flicked her tail toward the ghostly 
spirit bound to the phylactery on which she reclined.  The ancient 
stone divan, the perch, stood her in good stead in more ways than one.
         Shirazz continued, "They see the danger ahead and are 
working together like a hunting pack.  I am delighted to see it."
         "As am I," Emily whispered with long tongue.  Perhaps, as 
Father Hough was oft to suggest, this was a blessing in disguise.


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

Charles Matthias


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