[Mkguild] Hough's Secret (1/3)

[C. Matthias]

Although in three parts, this one is still pretty 
short.  I want to thank Christof and Raven for giving it beta reads.

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Metamor Keep: Hough's Secret
by Charles Matthias

March 25, 708 CR

The morning dawned with a heavy layer of fog 
coating the southern half of the valley up to the 
walls of Metamor Keep herself, but by midmorning, 
except for a few secluded woodland dells, the 
Spring-time sun had burned it away leaving a a 
pleasant aroma to the air of all the wildflowers 
and blossoms now coming into bloom everywhere. 
Heavy clouds settled over the Dragon Mountains 
suggesting that rain and strong winds were in 
their future, but they would come in the evening 
if at all. Nothing could damped the spirits of 
Keepers freed from the grip of the plague.

Although the appearance of a Metamorian garbed in 
black robe with the red cross of the Questioners 
on his chest certainly annoyed most who saw him.

Father Felsah paid scant attention to the ugly 
looks he received as he walked down the streets 
of Metamor, prayer book in hand and new lips and 
tongue murmuring the ancient and ever renewing 
prayers for the midday hours, while at his side 
trotted the golden-furred dog Rakka. He was long 
used to receiving such cold welcomes; he only 
hoped in time that his service to these people 
would soften their hearts to the red cross. In 
the nearly four weeks he had been in the Valley 
now everywhere he had gone he'd been treated with 
a mixture of trepidation, indifference, 
curiosity, and outright scorn. A few, such as 
Sister Sho Rosewain of Jetta, had been grateful 
for his efforts and looked to him as a priest and 
not a tyrant's hand. But most could not see past 
the fears and ill-wind the red cross had sown in 
years past. Only time, charity, and grace could heal those wounds.

He had not ventured through Metamor since Bishop 
Tyrion had appointed him to the valley, partly 
because of the plague that had gripped the city, 
but mostly because he had spent the last three 
weeks walking on foot through the southern towns 
and villages, speaking with all the Followers he 
could find to learn of their needs and to judge 
the state of their spiritual lives. There were 
more Followers to the north of Metamor and he 
would soon walk amongst them and learn what he 
could. Only then would he be able to make an 
appropriate recommendation to the Bishop on how 
best to proceed in strengthening the faith and 
fidelity of this remote but stalwart people.

But for now, he looked forward to a few days of 
rest and perhaps a bit of relaxation if Madog 
were about. The mere thought of the metal fox 
brought a smile to his altered face as he 
continued his prayers. Still smiling, something 
that came so much easier to him now, he focused 
his thoughts anew on the prayers, singing Eli's 
praises for the world and its many wonders, 
recognizing in the beauty each thing possessed 
the glory and might of their creator. Even the 
variety of the shapes of those living in the 
Valley, which he now shared in, came about by 
what they spoke of as a Curse, but what he could 
see as both blessing and burden. How challenging 
it would be as he discovered all of the burdens 
his new form gave him, but also the multitude of blessings hidden within.

One of which alerted him to the mocking, foul 
laughter surrounding him. Rakka growled as Felsah 
looked up from his prayer book at a quartet of 
men, one of them human in mid-thirties, the 
others animals. He recognized a leopard, some 
form of cattle, and a round-eared canine with 
stocky snout. The bull had his arms crossed over 
his swollen chest, wide nose twitching as he stared down at Felsah.

“Well, well, well, looks like the Questioner got 
cut down to size. Who's going to keep you safe 
now, priest?” The bull dragged his hoof across 
the stone road as if he were going to charge. The 
dog wagged a short tail as he barked a laugh, 
while the leopard stretched his claws and the human cracked his knuckles.

Rakka continued to growl, lowering into a 
defensive crouch. Felsah noted each of his 
assailants without rancor or fear, merely sighing 
in dismay. “Yahshua has already promised to 
protect those who love Him and do His will.” He 
folded the prayer book, leaving one finger at his 
page so he could return to it later. “Is there 
anything I can help you with, good sirs? I'm 
afraid I am new to Metamor but I will do what I can.”

The human smirked. “You could hold still.”

Rakka's growl deepened. Felsah put one hand on 
the golden-furred dog's back, but this did little 
to still the animal's anxiety. The four men 
surrounding him laughed all the more. Beyond them 
several others traversing the streets of Metamor 
had stopped to watch the commotion. “I do not 
wish to see any of you in trouble with Metamor's 
Watch. Nor should you imperil your souls on account of me.”

“Oh we're not going to hurt you,” the bull said, 
while his friends laughed and moved nearer. 
“We're just going to make sure that you can't hurt any Keepers, Questioner!”

The ever-present anxiety the Curse had given him 
warred with his Questioner-imbued command of 
self. After a sharp intake of breath he quelled 
his new instincts and brought the stolid mask 
across his new face. “I will not, and have never, 
brought any Keeper to harm. Tell me, you who 
believe otherwise, what of you? Are you Follower? Pagan? Or heretic?”

The leopard growled. “We follow the Canticles, 
not some old man in a far away land!”

“Heretics then,” Felsah said with a heavy sigh. 
“My concern is with the Followers here at 
Metamor, not any of your kind. You have nothing to fear from me.”

“Yeah, you blackies are all liars!” The man said 
as they all took a step closer.

“All of you!” the bull joined in, stomping one 
hoof after the other as he lumbered near.

Rakka snapped as they tried to get in closer, 
while Felsah did his best to steel himself 
against whatever these four wished to do to him. 
But even though these four gazed down at him with 
a fiery hunger, something approached from behind 
them and to Felsah's right that cast a shadow 
over all of them. Heavy footfalls made the stone 
throb beneath his sensitive feet. And then large 
mottled green and brown hands grabbed the canine 
and the leopard and yanked them off their feet.

All eyes turned toward the Keeper who stood 
another two heads higher than any of them, his 
head crowned with a wide fan and fixed with three 
long horns. His face ended in a gray beak which 
opened with a heavy rumbling like a mill grinding 
wheat to flour. “You heard Father, you have 
nothing to fear from him. But you do from me if 
you don't leave him alone! No matter how big you 
are, no matter how strong you think you are, 
there is always, always, someone out there who is stronger or bigger yet!”

The bull and man stared wide eyed as their 
friends struggled in the monstrous Keeper's grip. 
Rakka stopped growling and began to whine 
uncertainly, but Felsah kept his hand firmly 
pressed against the dog's back even as he 
struggled to keep still. “His kind have murdered 
our ancestors!” the bull snapped after falling 
back a few paces. He stood a little taller, 
sneering at the scaled man holding his friends. “He doesn't belong here!”

“And the Watch will throw you all in the dungeon 
for attacking a priest,” he said in a deep basso 
that echoed from his large chest and seemed to 
make the air thicker as it passed. He gave both 
dog and cat a firm shake and then tossed them to 
the ground on either side. “Now run. Or I'll make sure you can't.”

The dog looked ready to reach for his dagger, but 
his eyes noted the tree trunk thick legs and tail 
with which the Curse had gifted this Keeper and 
thought better of it. The bull snorted, gave 
Felsah one last evil look, and then the four of 
them scattered back into the crowd. The people 
watching parted to let them through, noted who it 
was they'd tried to assault, and then went back 
to their business selling, trading, and gossiping.

Felsah looked up at his rescuer, and continued 
looking up. He couldn't judge heights as well now 
that the Curse had changed him, but he figured 
this scaled creature had to stand at least 
twenty-four hands high. He couldn't fathom how 
many stone he weighed; probably more than two 
destriers together! Still, he did his best to 
smile as he spoke. “Thank you, good sir.” He made 
the sign of the yew and said, “May Yahshua bless 
you for your kindness. I am in your debt.”

The man's booming voice seemed hesitant, almost 
nervous. “You owe me nothing, Father. I am glad I 
was here to stop them. I had never thought to see 
a Questioner here, not after what I'd heard from the other Keepers.”

“I had not thought to come stay here either, but 
that appears to be Eli's will. I am Father Felsah. Who might you be?”

The three-horned creature lowered to one knee, 
his long, thick tail stretching out behind him. 
“Zachary... formerly of Bradanes.”

Felsah's lips twitched at that befouled city's 
name. He stroked Rakka behind the ears and the 
golden-furred dog began to wag his tail. “You 
have suffered much then, Zachary, you and all your brethren.”

“Most of my family made it here safe,” he said 
with a long sigh. “Would you believe I was once 
the smallest of all my brothers? Even my sister 
was stronger than me, even before that poison 
made us hide in rags.” A horrible darkness filled 
his yellow speckled eyes and his thick fingers 
balled into fists as large as melons.

“That time has past, good Zachary,” Felsah 
assured him with a faint smile touching his 
cheeks. It was hard to look up so high, and so 
the Questioner let his gaze descend across his 
rescuer's body until they returned to the old 
stone road through the center of Keeptowne. The 
strange reptilian man bore a large brown tunic 
and breeches with a simple black tabard draped 
over his shoulders and clasped at his chest. A 
large sword taller than Felsah had been before 
the Curse's had claimed him rested at his hip 
with a quillion at least a cubit across. His feet 
were not covered by any sort of boot – so much 
leather would have been difficult for a soldier 
to afford – and while he did not stand on his 
toes like many Keepers, his feet could hardly be 
described as human either. Though the heel was 
familiar enough, each of his four toes was 
roughly the same size, ending in a dark gray, 
swollen nail more akin to the elephants brought 
from the eastern jungles or the southern steppes.

“Aye,” Zachary agreed with another long sigh. 
“Amen. You were headed somewhere, Father? I could accompany you.”

Felsah lifted the heavy prayer book and then 
pointed it northward at the castle. “I am going 
there; I will speak with Father Hough at his 
convenience. I will likely tarry a few days more, 
then I must be off to see the rest of the Valley 
and the many Followers like we who now make it home.”

Zachary stood up, turned toward the castle, and 
with a deep chortle said, “Then let us go to the 
castle. I would be honored to accompany you, Father Felsah.”

He felt a strange delight at this towering 
behemoth's generosity and so nodded. “I would be 
grateful for the company.” Together they walked 
down the street, though Felsah noted within a few 
paces that Zachary was deliberately slowing 
himself to avoid tiring the priest. “Although I 
had my youth in the Holy Land, I have traveled 
many places in Galendor, and a few in Sonngefilde 
as well. But I have never seen a creature quite 
like you. Forgive my impertinence, but what are you, Zachary?”

The rumbling chortle met his sensitive ears like 
a distant peal of thunder. “I'd be amazed if you 
had known. I'd never heard of it either, nor had 
any in the Fellowship. Oh!” Though Felsah 
couldn't see it, the surprise in his companion's 
voice sounded like self-admonishment. “A komodo 
Emily told me that it's a creature that died out 
in this land many centuries ago. She says the 
Tened called it a Kharrakhaz.” He rolled the 'r' 
for half-a-second in the strange word, the consonants harsh and whistling.

“The Tened?”

“An ancient race that used to live in this valley 
those many centuries ago.” His voice grew distant 
and uncomfortable. “I don't know much about them... you'd have to ask Emily.”

His tongue did not like the name, but he did the 
best he could. “So what does Kharrakhaz mean in our language? Anything?”

Zachary's voice regained its good humor. “Three 
horned herd beast, Father. Nothing more than that.”

Felsah chuckled lightly as they walked. Rakka 
kept between them, and Felsah kept one hand on 
the dog's back. The frightening men were gone, 
but Zachary was still just a little too large and 
strange smelling for his four-footed friend's 
comfort. After a brief silence, he offered, “It 
is an apt description judging by your appearance. 
Are there any others like you?”

“Nay, though there are other Keepers who have 
taken guises not seen in these lands before. E'en 
you, Father. I do not recognize the creature you 
have become. A mouse of some sort, I'd say, but not what kind.”

Felsah nodded, his long tufted tail flicking back 
and forth behind him as he almost hopped each 
step beneath his shortened black robes. “It is a 
little creature akin to a mouse that lives in my 
homeland. They are desert dwellers, hiding in the 
rocks and in holes, coming out at night to forage 
and frolic. They are very fast on their legs, and 
they live such short lives, but they are hardy 
for all that, and I have enjoyed watching them in 
the past when I've been so fortunate to see 
them.” He glanced at the slender tan-furred arms 
he now bore, and the small hands and fingers 
tipped by a short claw, and twitched his whiskers 
in amusement. “A jerboa as we call them. It means hopping mouse.”

Zachary looked nearly straight down at him, 
bending his neck in what must have been an 
uncomfortable angle. And he had to because Felsah 
was now not quite nine hands high at the top of 
his long, round ears. “Pardon me for saying it, 
Father, but you don't seem to be hopping.”

“I am trying very hard not to.” So saying he 
moved his hips one at a time, his long legs, 
hidden beneath his robes, taking each step one at 
a time, the short claws tipping each toe brushing 
against the inside of his black robe as they 
reached the cold paving stones. “My first hops 
tangled me badly in my Questioner garb, and poor, 
sweet Rakka thought I was trying to play with 
him.” He offered the dog a quick scratch behind 
his ears. “In his enthusiasm, he accidentally bit 
off one of my whiskers; it hurt more than I thought it would.”

Zachary glanced down at him and grunted before 
returning his attention to the busy market road. 
They were moving down the main thoroughfare and 
passing into a large square filled with merchants 
and Keepers out buying anything and everything 
they could after the drought from the plague. 
Stalls with boisterous men announcing breads, 
cheeses, potatoes, salted meats, onions, 
cabbages, spices, eggs, and even fresh milk made 
Felsah's nose twitch and the nostrils on either 
side of Zachary's beak swell. This scent was 
mixed with a rich panoply of animal musks both 
Keeper and otherwise, a variety of exotic 
perfumes, soaps, and candles. Felsah's ears were 
inundated by a cacophony of voices so richly 
varied that he almost felt as if he'd stumbled 
upon an exotic animal show in the middle of a 
farm at the edge of a lively forest with a small 
lake in which every fishing beast was currently 
plying their trade and bragging about their 
catch. Pinions, banners, and bright colors 
assaulted him on either side as each of the 
merchants newly returned to Metamor tried to 
attract Keepers with as bright and as bold a display as they could manage.

In this maelstrom the trio plunged, but they 
needn't have worried. The merchants only ever 
briefly glanced their way; whether it was from 
intimidation at Zachary's size and alien shape or 
the red cross and black robe draped over Felsah's 
body he wasn't sure, but he was grateful not to 
have to politely decline a dozen or more 
desperate princes of ware, coin, and road. It 
also made it possible for him to ask a question 
that had been gnawing at the back of his mind for some minutes.

“You do not seem to be afraid of Questioners. Why is that?”

Zachary flexed a mottled brown and green hand and 
grunted, the edges of his beak twisting as much 
as they could into a frown. “It's not because I'm 
bigger than you, Father. Even if our shapes were 
reversed I wouldn't be afraid of you... well, 
maybe a little intimidated, but not afraid.” His 
moue lifted a moment and he gazed upward at the 
spires of the western half of Metamor castle. “We 
had a Questioner at Bradanes. He was a good old 
man who taught me my letters and how to pray. I 
used to go hide in his cell when I was little to 
escape the bigger boys.” The Kharrakhaz laughed, 
a trilling rumble that made a few nearby 
merchants briefly look up in alarm. “I think he 
wanted me to become a priest like him, but after 
he died, my father had me apprentice with a 
weaver; my hands were small and nimble then.”

He waved his thick fingers and then shook his 
head. “Father Ellis taught me the Canticles and 
the faith in a way that everything made sense. He 
said that was how all Questioners were instructed and I rather liked it.”

“Did you wish to become a Questioner?”

Zachary shrugged. “I might have at one point. But 
now I'm big and strong, and so I'm trying to use 
that to protect everyone here. That seemed the most important thing to do.”

Felsah nodded and smiled. It was good to hear 
that there were other Questioners out there who 
did not abuse their authority or revel in it like 
so many others he had seen and felt powerless to 
stop. “That is very noble of you, but do not 
think that those are the only things that matter. 
Your faculties may require more; they may expect more of you.”

“I know,” Zachary nodded. “But I can do these 
things for the first time in my life. I want to 
follow this path for a while and see where it 
leads me.” In a softer voice, though one still 
deep that seemed to whisper first from his 
massive chest and then cascade down from his 
beak, he added, “I'll always follow the Ecclesia first.”

“I am glad to hear it, Zachary. And thank you 
again for aiding me. Let us speak of other things 
for now. Tell me of your family. How many made 
the journey from Bradanes safely?”

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

Charles Matthias


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