[Mkguild] Heraldic Beginnings (4/7)

[C. Matthias]

Part 4!  You'll note I'm trying to keep each part its own day. (mostly)

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March 24, 708 CR

When Sir Saulius learned that Charles was taking 
his family to see the pageant being put on by the 
Magyars he insisted on coming. “Magyars art a 
filthy people who dost steal children and raise 
them to their trickster ways,” he declared with 
as much dignity as he could muster to cover the 
obvious loathing he felt for them.

“Oh you know how much trouble they will get into 
if they try anything like that. I have already 
lost one child and will not lose another!” But 
the momentary heat in his voice had given way to 
mirth. Charles had assured then his friend with a 
laugh, “Besides they kept trying to entertain us 
Keepers all the while the plague was scaring 
everyone into hiding. And I hear that they won't 
be leaving until every last one of them is 
Cursed. That shouldn't take more than another day 
or two. When else will my children have a chance 
to see so many strange jugglers, tumblers, and the like?”

“We hath festivals here at Metamor with such 
men,” Saulius had replied with a scowl fixed even to the ends of his whiskers.

But, not only did Charles wish to see what the 
Magyars could do, his children were even more 
excited by the prospect of the exotic and perhaps 
a trifle dangerous Magyars. Kimberly had also 
told them the stories that the Magyars stole 
children, especially misbehaving children, and so 
they stayed very close to their parents, their 
little paws holding to either their father's 
cloak or their mother's skirt, when not propped 
in their father's arms. Saulius walked behind 
them on their way through town, eyes wary for any danger.

By midday, the air was pleasantly warm, though a 
steady breeze from the south suggested that it 
would rain that evening. The Magyars had arranged 
their colorful wagons in ranks two deep near one 
of the inner walls in the Killing Fields, while 
arranging benches in a semicircle outward toward 
the row. The assingh, the giant Steppelands 
donkeys, were set to grazing on the other side of 
the wagons from the road. Bright pinions, 
banners, and streamers were hung from wooden 
poles erected on all sides. They were such a 
mishmash of colors, red, yellows, blues, greens, 
and a cornucopia of other unnameable hues, that 
there was no way to mistake this people for anything but Magyars.

Near the entrance, a lithe ferret woman was 
performing a salacious dance dressed in a 
patchwork vest and legging that came down only to 
her shins, revealing all of her ankle and newly 
clawed hindfeet. Her tunic was little better, 
emphasizing a modest quartet of breasts stacked 
in pairs, the edges of which were visible through 
little breathing slits in her garment. She 
twirled little batons around her in a complicated 
dance, each one ending in a streamer that coursed 
around her body in very suggestive ways, as if 
they were the hands of a lover caressing her body.

Kimberly dragged the children past the beastly 
Magyar as quickly as she could. Charles blinked 
in surprise a few times before he felt a death 
glare and hurried after his wife.

They found seats with a good view of the main 
area between the wagons and the benches; they 
kept the children between them, the boys next to 
their father and the girls next to their mother, 
while Sir Saulius sat right behind them to keep a 
very stern eye on them and the Magyars performing 
for them. When they arrived they found seven 
Magyars, three children, two still human, and a 
couple who were part beast, all juggling various 
things from balls, to torches, to knives, to 
axes. Sometimes they would juggle by themselves, 
other times they would begin to pass them back 
and forth, interleaving them through the air so 
that it seemed everything should clatter in and 
crash to the ground, but they always missed. 
Charles couldn't help but be impressed by their 
consummate skill and timing. Kimberly stared in 
wonder, and his children all oohs and squeaked 
their delight, especially when it looked like one 
of the axes or knives was going to strike a 
Magyar a fatal blow, only to be snatched from the 
air at the last moment and sent skyward again. 
Sir Saulius grumbled in disgust the entire time.

Other Magyas performed contortions that made even 
Charles flinch in disbelief, while still others 
walked about on stilts taller than a house whilst 
playing various drums, pipes, and stringed 
instruments. There were a good number of children 
running about as well, and Charles couldn't tell 
which of them were naturally young and which had 
just entered a second childhood. There were a few 
women and men amongst the performers who were 
buxom or broad in a way that suggested they had 
suffered the gender swapping Curse, but since 
they were all wearing the same sort of patchwork 
clothing, trading skirts for the women in place 
of baggy-legged trousers for men, it was hard to 
tell if they were even Cursed or not. But about a 
quarter of the Magyars were unmistakeably like 
the Metamorians now they were were clad in fur, scale, or feather.

Charles's children oohed at all of the displays, 
and when a pair of ladies, one of whom was now a 
dark blue, short-winged, long-legged bird, came 
past carrying trays full of little morsels, they 
squeaked and clamored to have a taste. Their 
father made sure he paid for every last bite lest 
the Magyars feel cheated, and even tried to buy 
some for his knight who would have nothing to do 
with it. Pastries with bits of meat, cheese, or 
even potato greeted their noses and tongues, 
while they were given to drink fresh milk from 
the assingh. It had a thick creamy flavor that 
Charles found a bit too strong for his taste, but 
in short gulps it washed down the pastries well enough.

Keepers of all sorts came to watch, though the 
few Charles knew to be well-to-do merchants were 
careful not to bring much money or finery with 
them. Soon enough they had an ever changing set 
of neighbors on either side of them enjoying the 
performances with them. Even the other rats 
showed up later that afternoon though they were 
forced to sit elsewhere. Charles was amused at 
the way they artfully dodged the Magyars coming 
to offer them vittles by moving around the crowd 
even faster. As they passed behind him, he caught 
a glimpse of why – both Julian and Goldmark were 
carrying rather sizable money pouches on their 
hips. It seemed that their wagon-sleighs were rather profitable already.

It was difficult to keep the children still for 
very long, as they wanted to jump off the 
benches, scamper forward, and start playing with 
the Magyars, especially the Magyar `children' who 
were juggling and tumbling. Every time one of the 
children looked ready to bound out of their 
seats, Sir Saulius would say, “If thou dost play 
with them, thou may ne'er see thy mother and father again!”

Kimberly would scold the knight for scaring her 
children, but never too strenuously as it was 
clear she worried about it too. Charles just 
stroked his boys between their big ears, and then 
did the same for his girls to sooth their excited 
but suddenly frightened nerves.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, all of 
the Magyars gathered together and started their 
pageant. Each of them took on various roles, with 
lots of intricate costumes to make monsters of 
antiquity appear on the field. An older man now 
sporting graying feathers and the spindly body of 
a stork narrated a tale of romance, treachery, 
great battles, and woe. It was set in ancient 
age, out of the very legends of the Steppe, the 
Åelfwood, and Vysehrad. One of the principle 
heroes was in fact the great hero of that era, 
Pelain of Cheskych. Suitably, the Magyar 
portraying that ancient knight had been 
transformed into a wolf with a regal mane of 
silvery-gray fur. Charles wished that Jessica 
were there so she could see this and comment on 
how close he behaved to the man she met in the Imbervand.

Now that the Magyars were telling a story instead 
of merely performing tricks and wild antics, the 
children all settled down and watched with rapt 
fascination, ears tilted forward, eyes wide with 
wonder. Little Erick swung his arms as if he were 
wielding a sword and he was Pelain battling off 
hordes of golden monsters coated in scales and 
fur. Little Bernadette and Baerle kept asking 
Kimberly if the heroine, played by a Keeper who 
must have been a man a week ago but now was a 
svelte and stout woman with eyes as blue as a 
bird's and a face both soft and stern as if 
weathered by the Steppe winds – and her chest was 
prodigious enough that many a Keeper's eyes never 
even noticed her face – was going to marry Pelain 
or when Pelain would rescue her from the 
villainous horde or the enigmatic elves, both of 
whom at one point had this radiant beauty in 
their control for their own ends. Of course, 
there were also Magyar characters in the tale, 
mostly a brother and sister, one of whom was 
played by the same four-breasted ferret that had 
greeted them when they arrived; she also drew the 
wandering eyes of the men, and the baleful glares of the women.

The tale and performances were so engrossing that 
even Sir Saulius leaned forward in his seat to 
get a better view. And when the brother Magyar 
suffered a very tragic death in order to save his 
sister from one of the golden demons, he had to 
fight back his noble gorge. Kimberly didn't cry, 
but many of the other women watching were dabbing 
their faces and snouts. Little Bernadette and 
Baerle were tugging on their mother's sleeve and 
asking her in quiet voices if the brother would 
be okay. She assured them that he would even as 
the actor spent the next five minutes dying in as 
dramatic and overblown way as possible.

By the time the performance came to an end, 
clouds from the south had covered the sky and the 
threat of rain was quickly becoming a reality. 
Charles and Kimberly scooped up their children, 
and with Sir Saulius and the other rats close 
behind them, headed straight for the Keep. 
Goldmark offered to carry the children on a taur 
back, and Kimberly gratefully deposited both 
girls there once their friend had changed. Which 
of course meant that Charles also had to become a 
taur to carry his boys. For the sake of propriety 
he ducked into an alley with the other rats 
forming a wall to guard his modesty. It was the 
only pause on their way back through Keeptowne, 
and it proved one pause too many, as less than a 
minute before they reached the Ivy Causeway and 
the safety of the Keep's walls, the sky opened 
and poured its contents in thick sheets down across the Valley.

The Keep was kind to them and led them quickly to 
Long House, where all of them gathered around a 
large fire in the Matthias home there. The 
children barely waited to be dry before the boys 
started arguing which of them was to be Pelain 
and which the brother, while the girls tried to 
settle on who was the sister and who the yearning 
of Pelain's heart. As Kimberly tried to get them 
to take turns in each of the roles, Charles 
turned to Sir Saulius who held his tabard closely 
over his chest as they huddled around the hearth 
drying. Neither Charles nor Goldmark had bothered 
changing back to a two-legged stance and so they 
reclined at either end, allowing one side each to be warmed by the flames.

“Now that wasn't so bad, was it?”

Sir Saulius's snout took on a disquiet moue. 
“They art very talented in many different ways.” 
He narrowed his eyes and his whiskers lowered. “I 
dost too love the tale of Pelain and the demon 
horde of Kolovrat. I hath ne'er heard it since my 
youth.” In a softer voice he added. “But 'twas 
brother and sister from a horse clan and not 
Magyars that didst come to great Pelain's aid!”

The other rats chuckled at their friend's bruised 
pride, but none said word against it. Hector and 
Elliot turned to watch the children playing, 
while Goldmark took a brush and began to work 
over his long back, and Julian opened his money 
pouch to quickly count his coins.

Charles noted the latter and asked, “How does your business fare, Julian?”

“Very well,” the white furred, red-eyed rat 
replied. He closed his pouch and then smiled. 
“The plague and the fate of many of the merchants 
who'd been trapped at Metamor only to suffer our 
fate, has helped convince many of the foreign 
merchants to use our services to ship goods into 
and out of the valley. Two days ago we bought an 
old Inn and stables in Laselle that had been run 
down. We're converting it to apartments for our 
drivers and for our factors there, and in another 
few months we'll have built a warehouse as well 
to store goods as they are readied for transport. 
And while Keeptowne and Euper were under 
quarantine, our shipments across the Valley 
turned quite a bit more profit than we expected. 
We just didn't see any of it until the quarantine 
came to an end!” He laughed and then stretched 
his arms wide. “I do wonder how long it will be 
before many of those merchants come back here; they've nowhere else to go.”

“Thou shouldst not take joy in that terrible 
time,” Sir Saulius chided, the moue having never left his snout.

Julian lowered his arms and wrapped his paws 
around the end of his tail, rubbing the tip with 
his thumb. “I know. I knew somebody who died from 
that infernal plague. But it does no good to 
castigate ourselves for the good fortune we receive even when another suffers.”

“That is very true,” Charles said. He stretched 
the toes on his forelegs, and then shifted a 
little to let the warmth sink into his other 
side, taking care to hold his tail to keep it 
from accidentally sliding into the fire. “And I 
know you better than that, Julian, but it does 
seem a bit unseemly to talk of how good the plague was for your business.”

The frown on Julian's snout deepened and he 
narrowed his eyes. “I'm not going to apologize 
for our success, Charles. I wish it hadn't come 
this way, but I'm not going to apologize for it. 
I'm excited that we have met with such good 
fortune so soon. We may not fight with swords, 
but merchants fight nevertheless, and the combat 
is brutal and unforgiving. One day you may have 
money trickling off your nose, and the next you 
can be selling the shirt from your back to pay 
off creditors as rapacious as sharks!”

Elliot and Goldmark looked a little embarrassed 
at their partner's vehemence, and the former was 
quick to add, “We don't want to be sharks 
ourselves, Charles. The more business we can 
create, the more wealth we can bring to Metamor. 
Tell him what we did yesterday, Julian. That was a wonderful sight.”

“Ah, yes,” Julian said with a nod and a renewed 
smile. “We took a goodly sum of the profits we'd 
made and gave them to the nuns, and then we 
offered a gift of supplies to Healer Coe. We may 
not have been able to save any lives from the 
plague, but don't for a moment think I'm not grateful to those who did!”

Charles held up his paws and shook his head. “I am not angry with you, Julian.”

“Nor I,” Saulius interjected.

“I just felt uncomfortable. You know what I had 
to face because of that plague.” He turned his 
gaze to Kimberly who had managed to get the 
children to finally agree. They were now acting 
out some of the scenes from the pageant but 
mostly just bonking each other on the head with their chewsticks.

Julian caught the glance and then took a deep 
breath, the agitation bleeding from his flesh as 
the dampness fled from his fur and garments. 
“You're right. Forgive my thoughtlessness. Is 
there anything we can do for you? You are our 
dearest friend, and one of the few I know I could lay down everything for.”

The white rat's voice was so sincere that Charles 
actually wanted to reach out and hug him tightly. 
But he restrained himself to returning a broad 
smile. “That won't be necessary. But I do ask 
that you all come visit us at the Glen more 
often! We'll be returning there tomorrow and...”

“And you'll be riding in one of our wagons,” 
Julian piped up with a boastful grin. “I insist!”

Charles laughed. “As I knew you would. We'd be delighted to accept your offer.”

Sir Saulius gave Charles a curious look. “Didst 
thee not wish to ride Malicon back to the Glen?”

“I had not forgotten my steed, oh my knight!” 
Charles replied with a laugh. “Of course I shall, 
but I will be riding beside Julian's wagon if not 
leaning across it the entire way back!” At that 
all of the rats, his dear friends and those with 
whom he felt such a comfort and camaraderie that 
he could not explain, broke into hearty smiles 
and laughter. No more words were said, nor could 
they have been, as they turned their eyes to 
watch the children play while the fire dried the 
last of the rain's torrent from their fur.

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

Charles Matthias


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