[Mkguild] Inchoate Carillon, Inconstant Cuckold (21 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold
By Charles Matthias


March 10, 708 CR


It took almost an hour to manage the last minute 
arrangements, but by mid-morning Charles, Baerle, 
Angus, and James departed the Glen. The sun was 
hidden behind thick clouds that promised snow, if 
not for the Glen, at least for the mountains. 
Their breath misted in the air before them as 
they bundled tightly in their woolen tunics and 
cloaks. The dimness to the morning leached all 
color from their fur, their belongings, and the woods on every side.

They rode together in a large wagon drawn by a 
team of four horses with a stripped donkey-like 
horse holding the reins. Their climbing gear 
rested between them, as well as the packs with 
the delicate charms Burris had created. Both 
driver and the four horses were all Keepers, part 
of a larger family of equines who all lived at 
the Glen. They were not family in the 
conventional sense, but there was much in Metamor 
Valley that could not make that claim. Until the 
quarantine, they had taken turns carrying good 
back and forth from the Keep to Hareford, the 
Glen, and even Lake Barnhardt. Now they 
volunteered to help Charles and his friends reach 
the mountains with whatever speed they could provide.

Charles had spent the last two weeks in the 
saddle and had thought he'd be grateful for the 
chance to rest his legs and hips. Despite 
stretching his legs and tail in the wagon bed, 
his eyes kept turning to the four horses pulling 
that wagon and he yearned to find a saddle and 
climb on their backs. Maybe Sir Saulius was 
making a knight of him after all. He did his best 
not to dwell on that unsettling thought.

The zebra, a a capable warrior when called upon 
for patrol named Lamarck, chatted with James for 
a little while, suggesting in an off-hand way 
that he should consider joining their herd. 
Judging from the way his friend rolled his eyes 
at each veiled hint, it was something that he'd 
heard before and said no to each time. Angus 
reminded the zebra twice that he needed to keep 
his voice down while they rode. The second time 
the badger growled. He never needed to speak up again.

Baerle sat quietly the entire time, her eyes ever 
on the woods around them. She kept her back to 
the middle of the wagon, turning her ears this 
way and that as she listened to the birdsong 
filling the air. She smiled politely to her 
friends, but did not let her eyes linger on any 
of them fore more than a moment.

By noon they reached the East-West road that led 
from Hareford. The clouds showed no sign of 
abating, and if anything, were thicker than 
before. The shadowless roads stretched in either 
directions through tall trees whose branches 
overhung a somber gloom. Angus asked Charles 
briefly if anything were different from when he'd 
been this way two days ago, but the rat saw 
nothing out of place. It didn't even look as if 
soldiers from Hareford had been this way since 
Dupré had come here four days ago.

They turned up the western road that rose quickly 
along a slope stretching out from the mountains. 
After an hour the trees began to thin out and 
they could see down into the valley at their 
left. The ground sloped away, hugged by pine and 
fir, except in the barren crater where only a few 
saplings bravely stood. Charles gazed at that 
cracked lacuna in the earth and marveled at the 
power of a single small stone falling from the 
Heavens. How he wished he could have been at the 
Glen to feel it shake the earth. At Metamor he'd 
only had to contend with a stack of fresh parchment spilling across the floor.

The day warmed only slightly as they continued 
their ride. The clop of four sets of hooves was 
loud enough that even in this remote corner of 
the valley there was no wildlife to be seen. And 
despite speaking more quietly, Charles could see 
that Lamarck's ever playful manner was beginning 
to rankle his donkey friend. James had one hand 
gripping his pack, thick fingers digging deeper 
and deeper into the leather, while his tail kept 
smacking against the side of the wagon. Once a 
stand of trees blocked the crater from view, the 
rat decided he couldn't wait any longer.

“Do you mind if I climb up here?” he asked the 
zebra who blinked in surprise. Charles didn't 
wait for an answer as he stepped around James and 
positioned himself on the buckboard with his paws 
resting on the railing between him and the team of Glenners pulling them.

Lamarck finally began to nod, his words confused 
but polite. “Oh, sure... you, wait... be careful!”

Charles couldn't content himself with sitting 
next to the zebra. Even as the driver tried to 
grab him and pull him back, the rat scurried up 
onto the front of the wagon, and deftly climbed 
onto the back of the pinto closest to him. The 
horse swung his head back in surprise at having a 
rider, stretched out his lips in query once, and 
then returned his attention to the road ahead. 
Charles spread his legs wide so that he straddled 
the pinto bareback and laughed lightly as he 
realized with a wince how much smaller his pony Malicon was.

“What are you doing?” the zebra exclaimed with a gasp.

“Trying to get comfortable,” Charles replied. 
“Your friend doesn't mind.” He patted the pinto 
on the neck as if he were a real horse and chuckled. “Derrick right?”

The pinto nodded and snorted. Charles smiled and 
glanced back at the zebra who continued to gape. 
While he'd distracted the zebra, James had slid 
all the way to the back of the wagon near to 
Baerle. “So, how often do you pull the wagon?”

Lamarck blubbered for several seconds before he could find an answer.

----------

The remainder of the trip up the rocky slope 
proceeded with little conversation. None of the 
Polygamites had come this way before so their 
eyes roved from side to side as they mounted the 
hard packed earth. The wagon wheels bounced 
across loose stones but otherwise had no 
difficulty. An older pine had collapsed across a 
portion of the road in one of the last stretches 
where the woods framed them on either side, and 
Charles was quick to slip from Derrick's back so 
he could clear their path; they saw no other obstructions along the way.

Charles decided against riding Derrick the rest 
of the way up. His purpose in getting the zebra 
Lamarck to leave James alone was accomplished and 
the horse's back was just too wide for his legs. 
If he wanted to navigate treacherous mountain 
paths he should avoid needlessly straining his 
muscles. So he sat next to the zebra and kept a 
wary eye on the road and slopes ahead.

They reached the Gateway after only another hour 
and he smiled faintly as he saw the stand of 
rocks rising up from the otherwise level ground 
that wound between the peaks before them. Derrick 
and the other horses didn't need to be told to 
stop; everyone knew this was the Gateway.

“All right,” Angus said as he climbed out of the 
wagon. “James, hand me the gear. This is where we part ways.”

James helped the badger get all of their things 
out of the wagon while Charles helped Lamarck 
unhitch the horses from the wagon to let them 
each stretch. Lamarck handed each of the four 
equines a robe to gird themselves with as they 
shifted back into a more human stance. They 
stretched and walked around the upthrust granite 
block, their eyes taking in the vista to the 
south with gaping jaws and perked ears. Baerle 
pulled her fur-lined cloak more closely around 
her shoulders and neck as she quietly checked the 
remnants of snow that clustered in shadowed corners.

After they had all of the packs removed from the 
wagon, Angus waved everyone closer. “Now, the air 
is thinner up here, so don't push yourselves. 
We're going to take it very easy today and we're 
going to find shelter well before the sun sets. I 
know the paths, I helped Burris erect the 
talismans. There's two dozen and it'll take us at 
least a week to cover them all and get back home.”

Charles gnawed on his chewstick furiously, heart 
twinging with the thought of not seeing his 
family, even if only in illusion, for so long a time.

“Do you want us to be waiting for you in a week?” 
Derrick asked as he kept the cloak firmly wrapped around his middle.

“If you would be so kind, aye,” Angus replied. 
The badger stood and gave the stallion a firm pat 
on the shoulder, despite being half a head 
shorter than the horse. “Thank you for bringing 
us here. Now get home safely. It still looks like it might snow again.”

Derrick and the other horses nodded. “We'll be 
here. Artela keep you safe.” The five equines 
disappeared around the upthrust rock and a moment 
later they heard the familiar sound of even more 
hooves clopping against the exposed rock and 
hard-packed dirt. Angus opened his satchel and 
after some searching withdrew an elk-skin map 
that he stretched out between them. Depictions of 
various peaks and scrawling lines connecting them 
were inked into the hide. Little diamond marks 
were placed around the peaks in a wide swath. 
Charles stared at the picture but didn't recognize anything familiar.

“We're here,” Angus pointed to the southeastern 
corner. “Off south is the Glen, and off that way 
is Hareford. This section here,” he spun one claw 
in a wide circle over the right-most edge of the 
map, “is the Gateway, the highland meadow, and 
the old watchtower. There used to be a sheltered 
path from here into the Giantdowns, but 
earthquakes have made it too dangerous even for 
Lutins to try. Even so, at the northern edge of 
the meadow we've placed one of the talismans. 
That is where we'll be headed first. From there 
we proceed west. We should get a good view of the 
Sea of Souls, but the path leads back into 
mountains where we should be safe from freezing airs coming off the lake.”

He drew his claw along one of the lines at the 
top of the map, and then began to circle back 
down toward the bottom. Charles could see that 
this path took them past all of the diamond 
symbols.”We'll be making a long circuit through 
the mountains this way. This covers the passes 
that we know Baron Calephas used two years ago, 
and a few others that Lutins could use if they 
dared risk the heights. It is very difficult to 
reach some of these passes, which is why we don't 
patrol them, but I know each of you can manage.”

They were distracted momentarily by the 
Polygamites coming back around the stone. Four 
steeds plodded along on all fours, while Derrick 
walked behind them now adorned with Lamarck's old 
clothes. The zebra was the first secured to the 
rigging nearest to where Derrick would soon be 
sitting on the wagon. The pinto waved to them 
once before securing his remaining brothers and 
sisters in the rigging for the return trip. James 
glanced at them and snorted almost 
contemptuously. Charles gave him a curious 
glance, and the donkey only shrugged and 
muttered, “I'll never let myself be treated like a common animal. Never again.”

“Say no more,” Charles bade him with one paw as 
he noted a few equine ears flick in their 
direction. He turned to the badger and asked, “What order shall we take?”

“I want Baerle to lead us. She's been on some of 
these paths before. Will that do for you?”

The opossum nodded and in her first words in 
hours said, “Aye, I can lead us on the 
mountains.” She pulled her pack close to her 
knees as she crouched over the map. “I have never 
been this far into them,” she gestured at the 
western edge of the map. “Just let me know if 
there's anything I need to watch out for.”

“I will,” Angus agreed with a faint smile. “After 
you, I want Charles, then James. I will keep watch over the rear.”

“Why Charles and then me?” James asked as his 
ears lay back against his spiked mane.

“You two are going to be the anchors. Also, you 
can see over Charles's head. That way the path is clear for all of us.”

“Except you,” James pointed out with a grunt.

“I know it already,” the badger laughed faintly. 
“We'll stay close together, but I want us to see 
where we are going at all times. Now get your 
gear. You'll need the ice shoes by the time we find the first talisman.”

Derrick waved one more time as he and his 
herdmates led the wagon back down the road to the 
east. They came by close enough that Charles was 
able to pat the zebra on the neck; he was 
rewarded with a tail swat to the back of his 
head. He chuckled under his breath and then 
hoisted his pack onto his shoulders, toes 
spreading to feel the dirt, rocks, and lichen coating them.

As the weight of the shoulder straps settled 
against his flesh, he felt a strange loneliness 
come over him. Ever since the Wind Children had 
planted the vine in his back over six months ago, 
not a day had gone by when he hadn't allowed the 
vine to nourish in his flesh. It's tender 
strength and devotion had kept him company 
through even the worst moments in that time. But 
now that they were going into the freezing 
depths, he'd thought it best to leave it behind 
and so that morning he'd fixed it within the 
stones of the hearth in his bedroom; it would 
bloom well in the warmth there, and be a pleasant 
welcome if by some miracle Kimberly and the 
children were allowed to return home while he was still in the mountains.

Still, he sighed for its absence and shifted the 
pack until it was comfortable. He glanced at the 
pass between the two mounts into which he had 
ventured a short distance with the ram and Sir 
Saulius only a few days before. “Is there anything more before we begin?”

Angus returned the map to his satchel and then 
secured it against his hip. “Just be careful. We 
probably won't run into any Lutins, but keep your 
weapons ready just in case.” So saying, the 
badger patted the heavy blade between his shoulders and his pack.

“Will do,” Charles checked to make sure that his 
Sondeshike was in easy reach within his fur-lined 
cloak, and then followed after the opossum into 
the pass. He could hear James's hooves crunching 
the loose rock behind him as they passed into the cool shadow of the mounts.

----------

Jessica's wing tips cradled the stalk lined with 
small purple cups radiating in every direction. 
Her golden eyes bored the magical conduits that 
passed into each of those apertures only to be 
collected in fragrant pools that she could bind 
to any spell she wished. Even in the still grip 
of winter that teased the valley, a flower such 
as this would thrive because it was more than a flower.

It was a hyacinth; one specially treated in the 
ways she had learned by studying the arts of the 
Marquis, Agathe, and the rest of their enemies. 
It had grown more quickly than she had expected, 
and already it was proving an able solution to 
the challenge of keeping a Keeper transformed by 
an extra curse and in a way that they desired.

Normally Jessica tended the plant that grew in a 
rooftop garden on top of the barracks where her 
husband-to-be and his friends were stationed in 
Lake Barnhardt with tenderness and joyful care. 
But the flippant remark that Charles and Misha 
had shared the other day had unsettled her and so 
now she studied her flower more intently. Had she 
made a mistake in her casting? She had never 
intended the hyacinth to cast a shroud of 
oblivion over the Valley as Yonson's had done. 
She had only meant the forgetfulness to protect 
the hyacinth itself to keep her friends from destroying it out of fear.

But if the hyacinth was making them forget then 
she needed to do something about it. Jessica 
would not allow the hyacinth to bring anguish to 
Metamor; it was to be used to help master the 
Curses and to that it must restrict itself.

And so, with her mind fresh from a good night's 
sleep and after a studious review of her notes on 
the hyacinth, Jessica touched it with her magic, 
feeling the way the weaves flowed and cascaded 
one over another like water across rocks in a 
forest brook. There were several layers of magic 
that intertwined, and like any weave it was 
important not to tangle them further. Very 
gingerly Jessica lifted each strand of magic, 
peering more deeply within the cups.

Jessica gently let the strands back down as she 
saw a familiar figure flying toward the town from 
the north. She would have to continue her study 
another time; the woodpecker never left the Glen 
unless it was very important. Once she had 
returned the hyacinth to its proper state, she 
jumped into the air and beat her wings to go and meet the colorful bird.

On seeing her approach, Burris angled toward the 
eastern shore of the lake where broad tracts of 
land had been cleared to support pastureland for 
sheep as well as homes for the fishermen and 
shepherds. Jessica landed and perched on an unlit 
lamp with crozier while she waited for the woodpecker.

Burris settled on the ground a short distance 
from the hawk and stretched into a more human 
shape. Jessica joined him there and also took on 
her tallest size. Her screeching voice carried 
well her anxious concern. “Is everything all right, Burris?”

The woodpecker preened his black chest feathers a 
moment and then shook his head and wings. “I'm 
afraid not. One of the Glenners, Berchem our 
chief archer, has been struck by a malady that 
seems magical in origin. I've come to ask for your help.”

“Of course I will come,” Jessica agreed readily. 
If Burris could not discern the malady's cause, 
then it must be very serious indeed. “I need to 
let Captain Dallar know where I will be and then I will fly back with you.”

Burris spread his wings behind him, allowing the 
wind to gently brush through his feathers. “I 
shall wait here and enjoy this breeze. No need 
for you to land, just fly overhead and I'll join you.”

Jessica bobbed her head, shrank, and took off for 
the barracks. The ram would understand, as would 
Weyden. But her inspection of the hyacinth would 
have to wait. She must remember to leave herself 
a note so she could resume it when she got back.

----------

The passage through the mountains that Charles 
had called the Gateway opened after an hour's 
hike through snow and rock to a broad meadow of 
tough short grasses and lichen coated rocks of 
granite, feldspar, and mica. The ground sloped 
downward gently to the north and east until it 
met the mountains that framed the Giant's Dike. 
The northern slope ended in a copse of spruce, 
larch, and tamarack against which a large defile 
spilled between the nearest peaks. The faint 
suggestion of an old road continued down the 
meadow just south of the small forest before 
disappearing beneath the snowy slopes.

Along this road they continued as they moved 
through the meadow. The air was thinner and even 
after only an hour of hiking all of them felt 
tired but they took only one break along their 
route, and that for only a few minutes. Angus 
promised them that they would quickly adjust; 
James well remembered how long it had taken 
before he'd felt comfortable in the crossing of 
the Barrier Range last summer; it had taken 
nearly a week of rough travel before the donkey 
was able to shed the out-of-breath sensation that 
had clung to him ever since they'd lost sight of Metamor.

It wasn't the shortness of breath that bothered 
James. It wasn't even so much that he felt sure 
Angus was keeping an skeptical eye on him just 
waiting for one of his hooves to slip on a rock 
like the calumnious skunk. What kept his teeth 
grinding together as his nostrils flared for 
sweet air, was that Charles strode between him 
and Baerle. He could see clearly over the rat, 
but he could come no closer to the opossum than 
his erstwhile friend. The bell throbbed at his 
back in rhythm to his indignation when it 
swelled, and then faded into sonorous silence 
when the cool air and reason stilled his wrath.

The road turned sharply to the east in the middle 
of the meadow not too far from the edge of the 
wood. The rocky grasses were crisscrossed with 
little trickling streams of snow-melt and once 
they left the harder road, the ground sucked at 
his hooves with each step. James flexed his 
fingers and turned his ears from side to side, 
one eye watching the woods and the other looking past the rat to Baerle.

The opossum walked confidently across the mire 
toward the mountain directly ahead of them. 
Beyond the woods to the northeast James could see 
the defile where the earthquake had sealed off 
any access to the Giantdowns, and he was grateful 
that it did not appear they would be journeying 
that way. With so many stones about, Charles 
would be far too powerful to strike against.

Mountain winds chilled them so that each of them 
pulled their fur-lined cloaks tight as they 
walked. The squelching, almost sucking sound as 
James pulled his hooves out of the damp muck that 
Spring was bringing to the meadow felt like a 
thousand laughing voices tumbling one over 
another in their ravenous will to be the one 
closest to the object of their scorn. His 
fetlocks would be a tangled mess of knotted slime 
before they reached the first talisman. James's 
lips quivered in irritation, but he would not let 
this peat slow him. He kept pace with the rat no 
matter how vile the ground became.

Baerle led them past the copse and up the 
northern mountain along a narrow track suited 
better to goats than to Keepers. They quickly 
ascended, rising well above the meadow after only 
a few minutes. The rock was slick but the ledge 
was just wide enough that none of them had any 
difficulty in finding purchase. Though the sky 
was clotted with thick, gray clouds, the face 
they climbed was normally in the sun and so there 
was little ice or snow left, though James could 
see both on the upper slopes of the peak.

Charles was trailing his toes through the stone 
much as he had done in the Barrier Range. James 
felt the bell tremble uncertainly as the rat 
suddenly stopped and nodded. “I can feel something different up ahead.”

“That would be the talisman,” Angus called from 
behind the donkey in a low voice. “It should be just ahead around the cleft.”

The cleft reminded James of the crack in his 
bell, rising up along the side of the mountain on 
their right. Everything within was dark and 
shadowed. James felt his heart tighten as Baerle 
reached the lip and disappeared from view. His 
heart relaxed a moment later when she waved a 
hand-signal back around the edge of the cleft.

“James, hold when you get to the cleft. There's 
not much room within,” Angus cautioned as they 
approached. James felt his eyes widened and his 
lips quiver as he saw the rat follow Baerle 
within. He took his next step a little more 
quickly than he should, but he managed to keep 
his balance even as he marshaled his temper again.

When the donkey reached the cleft he saw what 
Angus said was true. A small alcove was fitted 
between the rock, and on a small pedestal a 
five-leaved wooden marker stood. The design was 
simple, the grain was finely polished, and the 
quality as if it has just been cut. The ground 
beneath was narrow but Baerle and Charles could 
stand almost comfortably next to one another. 
James tightened his grip on the stone lip, the 
sharp edges digging into the flesh of his palm.

Charles dug one of the pouches that Burris had 
given them from his pack, and handed it to 
Baerle. The opossum's fingers gently laid over 
the rats, their eyes briefly meeting, as she took the pouch from him.

On the Future! - how it tells

Of the rapture that impels

James glowered at the rat. There could be no 
doubt that Charles had lied to him about the 
opossum. They only expressed their intimacy when 
they didn't think they were being watched.

His eyes bored into the rat's back as both 
Charles and Baerle took the contents of the 
pouch, a dark paste like substance, and spread it 
over the leaves. They rubbed the salve with the 
grain, and the wood took on the luster of cherry, 
glowing briefly a vibrant red before fading away. 
A hint of foul odor was in the air, but it also 
quickly dissipated. It took only a few minutes 
for the paste to be applied, and then Charles 
secured the pouch and returned it to his pack.

“Okay, we're done here,” Charles said, smiling 
around his incisors first to Baerle, and then to 
James. The donkey nodded and quickly pulled 
himself back around the cleft to keep the rat from grasping his expression.

“The first one's done,” James told Angus.

The badger nodded and carefully turned himself 
back around on the narrow path. “Then it's time 
to really head into the mountains.” He gestured 
to what looked like a passage between the two 
peaks framing the western side of the meadow. “That's where were headed now.”

James noted the passage that rose up beyond the 
trees, still choked with snow and ice on every 
slope but those too sheer for anything to cling 
to. The bell throbbed against his back. Somewhere 
out there in the maze of snow-capped peaks 
Charles would have his accident. James smiled as 
he followed the badger back down the ridge.


----------

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

Charles Matthias


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