[Mkguild] Inchoate Carillon, Inconstant Cuckold (23 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

I have to leave town for a few days so I won't be able to send 
anything more on my story until Sunday.  So I'm posting a double part 
today to make up for the lack of it the next few days.


Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold
By Charles Matthias


March 11, 708 CR


Darkness there and nothing more.

James opened his eyes and welcomed the shadows that filled the cave. 
They were one more cloak with which to wrap himself and guard against 
the chill and against vicious eyes. Angus had set traps by the cave's 
entrance but of course they still had to mount a watch. Charles had 
offered to remain a stone statue all night long but Angus thought it 
better if they all had some sleep to keep up their strength for the 
climb ahead.

And as James listened to the still air, the faint scent of the dead 
fire lingering across his nostrils, he heard nothing but a faint 
tremor of wind outside. Everyone was asleep but him, and Angus, who 
had taken the last watch, was not in the cave.

To still the beating.

James shifted ever so slightly as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. 
They had all slept close to the fire for warmth; Charles was in easy 
reach. The brow of his angular head, and the point of his snout were 
silhouetted in the darkness. One stroke and it would be over.

Deep into that darkness peering.

James stared and reached into his pack which lay nestled at his side. 
Though he could not touch it, he felt the bell throbbing within, the 
haft seeking his hand where it belonged. A simple tolling and it 
would be over. Merely this and nothing more.

James blinked and ground his flat teeth together. Back into his mind 
turning, all his soul within burning, soon he heard a tolling even 
louder than before. With each blink his eyelids flapping, and his 
heart steadily a rapping, he fixed his gaze on the loathsome rat 
before. His hand around the bell was grasping, and slowly it was 
tasking, tasking him to toll just once more.

And then, nevermore.

Nevermore.

James gasped and tore his gaze from the rat, shutting his eyes tight 
for a moment as his hand slipped free from the bell's haft. If he 
dared strike now, no matter how much he yearned for the satisfying 
thud as Charles's head caved in, eyes spreading to either side, jowls 
splitting in either direction, blood smearing across the cave floor, 
it would never, under any circumstance appear as anything other than 
cold-blooded murder. Baerle would never love a murderer.

The soul shall find itself alone!

James hastily closed his sack and pulled his arm back beneath his 
sleeping roll. If he didn't want to be alone, then it must be done 
right. He laid his head back down, long ears splayed on either side 
of his head and tried to imagine Baerle smiling at him. One day she 
would. One day.

----------

At some point well past midnight, Jessica descended into a light 
sleep through which she glimpsed strange dreams of a line of Keepers 
passing before her. They each came to her, pulled the hyacinth stalk 
and drank water from one of the purple cups. As they did their bodies 
shifted in some new way; men became children, women were covered in 
thick furry hides, and both men and women became woman and men. And 
with each new Keeper so altered, the hyacinth grew taller and wider 
until the Keepers were climbing the stalk to bathe in those cups, 
flying out on newly sprouted wings and some even washing away every 
last trace of their human guise that they might revel in the beast.

It was an interesting idea, but as consciousness came to her, like 
all dreams, it slowly faded until all she was left was a sense of 
satisfaction, but also a vague suspicion that it was a hilarious 
exaggeration. She stretched her wings and beak as she rose out of her 
crouch and blinked her eyes to welcome the faint light streaming 
through Berchem's small windows. Morning had just arrived, and the 
twilight would soon be banished into a warm and sunny day, or so she 
gathered from the faint glint in the windows. Still, despite how 
sharp her vision as a hawk was, her eyes were meant for the day. 
Jessica summoned a trio of witchlights to illumine the skunk's home.

Before she drifted off she'd seen no change in the skunk, but even a 
quick glance at the pallet and quilts revealed that something had 
happened. Bercehm's face was taut and the muscles were beginning to 
pull beneath his fur, and his arms were twitching and tense even as 
sleep still held him close. But the face was now more angular, the 
fur on the back of the skunk's head thicker, the arms slender, and 
each finger, so callused from years of fletching and drawing a bow, 
were now delicate. Jessica appraised the quilts and noted with 
satisfaction the twin mounds distending them.

The skunk was, at first blush, quite a woman. But Jessica wondered 
how deeply her spell had penetrated into Berchem's essence; how 
quickly were the cords of magic tightening?

Even as she began to turn her eyes to the magical threads, the skunk 
began to stir, drawing her slender arms up closer to her chest and 
grunting as her jaws clenched tight, eyes pressing so firmly down 
that no tear could escape. Disappointed at seeing the pain still 
present, Jessica asked, "How bad is it?"

"Bad," Berchem said, her ears folded back as she curled up almost 
into a ball, bunching the quilt up and hiding her feminine physique. 
"Get me the broth!"

"Is it worse than yesterday?" Jessica asked again as she crossed over 
to the hearth and with a simple spell heated the leftover broth. "Is 
it different in any way?"

"About the same. A little louder maybe. Not... as bad... as the first 
time." Her voice was also higher pitched, and as she spoke she 
trailed off, ears turning as she tried to blink open her eyes. 
"What?" she managed in a half choke as she glimpsed her new hands. 
With great effort she turned them around and then pushed herself into 
a sitting position. The quilt fell from her chest to bunch over her 
legs and tail, revealing a pair of breasts that would make men drool 
like dogs with desire. Jessica would have to remember to be more 
careful applying the gender-changing curse, as it was meant to make 
its victims into exaggerated examples of their new sex, and it 
appeared to have done exactly that with Berchem.

Berchem blinked and then pressed her head against the wall behind 
her. "You!" she tried to shout with rage, but it came across as a 
pitiful whine. "You... did it anyway!"

"I had to know," Jessica replied calmly as she carefully spooned out 
a bowl full of broth. It was difficult to balance the bowl in her 
wing claws, but over the years she'd become adept at managing small 
things like that. She didn't spill a drop even when she carried it 
over to the irate skunk. "I had to know how it would affect the spell 
on you since it seems to be passing through the Curse."

"It didn't do a damn thing!" she cried as she beat the back of her 
head three times against the wood behind her. Her arms snapped up to 
her chest, touched her weighty breasts, and then recoiled as if she'd 
burned them. "Undo this now!"

"Oh, stop it," Jessica squawked and snapped her beak shut with a 
click. "It's only temporary and I will take it off you after I've had 
a chance to examine you. Now, here's the broth. That will help with the pain."

Berchem opened one blue eye and glared. "Change me back first."

"No. Broth first, then I examine you, and then I remove it. You have 
no choice, Berchem. Now open your mouth." The glare remained and 
Berchem's slender snout remained shut. Her arms tensed and pulled 
closer to her chest, this time not flinching from her breasts as they 
squeezed. Jessica lowered her eyelids. "Jo will be coming by soon. As 
will Burris. Do you want them to see you like this? How long do you 
think it will be before everyone in the Glen knows?"

The defiance in her eye flared for a moment, and then her jaws opened 
slowly. Jessica nodded in appreciation and deposited each spoonful 
one at a time until the bowl was empty. A few seconds later Bercehm's 
muscles began to relax and she began to breath more slowly. The look 
of disgust still filled her face.

"Some of us have always had to be women you know," Jessica chided the 
new female as she set the bowl and spoon down. "It might be good for 
you to spend time this way and learn what it's like to be a woman and 
how others treat you. I can very easily keep you this way for weeks, 
maybe even months." It was a terrible exaggeration as she had only 
just been able to maintain Maud as a giraffe for two days, but if she 
continued her studies it might be possible.

Berchem lowered her arms from her chest and looked around for a shirt 
to hide her nakedness in. "Just do what you need to do." Berchem 
shifted on the pallet as she reached for the little chest to pull out 
a tunic. Her legs rubbed together and she shuddered. "Oh that is not good."

Jessica ignored the skunk's complaints as she allowed the threads of 
magic to appear. The Curse covered her body and now it glimmered with 
a new silvery sheen, sinking ever more into the depths of black. The 
knot seemed slightly larger than before, but it was just as taut as 
it had been yesterday. Making Berchem a woman had done nothing to 
relieve the pain or to hamper the spell.

She poked and prodded for a few more minutes as the skunk, after 
donning a tunic, tentatively examined her new body, casting one quick 
disgusted look at the chamberpot while clasping her legs tightly 
together and hunkering back down beneath the quilt. But no matter how 
much Jessica fiddled with the cords of magic, she could see no difference.

"It does not look like it did anything. I don't think there's 
anything more I can do to study this spell, at least not directly." 
Jessica admitted with a long sigh.

"Well, make me a man again and think of something else." Her face 
scrunched up in disgust. "I hate this voice!"

"Berchem, say one more word like that, and I will leave you like this."

"But..."

"One more word!" Jessica leaned forward, her ire building. "I can 
make everyone here forget you were ever a man too."

Berchem blinked and scrunched herself back against the wall, grasping 
the quilt as if it could ward off magical blows. "You... you can?"

Jessica nodded, stretching her talons but not scraping the wood. "I 
can. Now keep silence, and I will remove this spell. But don't test 
my patience."

The skunk kept her snout closed tight and eyes lowered. Jessica took 
a deep breath and offered in a kinder voice, "The Curse could have 
made you a woman eight years ago. And... you're very lovely this 
way." Her ears flicked back but she did her best neither to look at 
the hawk nor at herself.

With a blink, Jessica allowed the weave of magic all around her to 
flare to life again. Her spell wrapped about Bercehm's body, sunken 
into the Curse like a jewel inlaid in metal. With a quick snip of her 
claws, she detached the spell from its connection tot he hyacinth. 
Without a powerful reservoir of magic to draw upon, the spell, as 
fragile as it was, would disintegrate.

Or at least it was supposed to. Even after the cord bringing the 
spell power dwindled and vanished into the ether, the spell remained 
intact, and Berchem stubbornly stayed female. Whatever malady the 
skunk suffered was holding Jessica's contribution in place. The hawk 
did not allow her frustration to show, lest Bercehm worry anew and 
offer more jeremiads against women, rather focused on dismantling her 
own spell piece by piece. But to her chagrin, it was stuck fast 
within the Curse and she could not draw it apart.

Jessica shifted her focus to the threads of magic passing through 
Berchem's essence. To these she had tied her spell in hopes of 
learning how fast the knot in her ears was tightening. Buried beneath 
the black smear of the Curse she could still see her littler knots 
and felt a measure of relief. They were tauter than before, but still 
quite simple to undo. When the last of them was finally undone, the 
silvery sheen began to scatter and vanish.

Berchem moaned, her voice deepening as her body reverted to manhood. 
Her tunic, once swollen, dropped a couple inches as her chest 
flattened and then resumed a manly physique. Berchem took several 
long breaths, inspecting his newly male body to make sure that 
nothing was missing, before he glanced irritably at Jessica and said, 
"Thank you. That's better."

"And the ringing?"

He put one paw to his head and groaned. "Still there. It's like a 
church bell that won't stop."

"Hmmm," Jessica pondered as she glanced around the room. A sudden 
knocking made her spread her wings and crane her head toward the 
door. "Who is it?"

"It's Jo," the vixen healer called down as she pulled open the door 
and poked her head in. "I'm here with another batch of herbs and to 
give you a chance to rest. Burris is waiting for you at the Inn and 
he insists that you come and get something to eat."

Jessica folded her wings back up while Berchem breathed a sigh of 
relief as he straightened out his tunic and his quilt. The hawk 
nodded. "I've learned about all I can this way. I think I'm going to 
try and help Berchem recover his memory. That might tell us what 
magic was used against him. I'll need to gather some components first 
for that kind of casting."

The fox slipped down the stairs with her herb basted in tow, long 
tail anxiously wagging. "Speak with Erica, she might be able to help 
you find what you need. You can find her at my shop if she isn't out 
gathering herbs."

"Thank you," Jessica said with a bob of her head. She glanced at 
Berchem who had his head resting against the wood behind him, eyes 
shut and paws resting in his lap. "And don't you forget what I said, either."

"Oh, I won't," he assured her with a jowl twitch that showed fangs.

----------

While the day began sunny, crisp, and cold enough that the 
ice-crusted rocks would not be slick with melt, clouds gathered 
slowly and by midday they had obscured all of the sky and wrapped 
themselves about the tallest peaks glimmering and gray and white. The 
quartet of Glenners moved quickly through the mountain passes, taking 
risks to gain time against what they knew was quickly bearing down on 
them; a storm.

They continued in the same formation as they had the day before, but 
now they kept ropes secured about their waists as they navigated 
paths so narrow that they couldn't turn around. Angus assured them 
that once they crossed one final mountain overlooking the glassy Sea 
of Souls, they would reach a long stretch riddled with caves, trees, 
and wide avenues through which they could rest.

Because each of them had been changed into half-animal men by the 
Curses, despite clinging to the slope of rock, lichen, and frozen 
moss with their claws and ice shoes, chest almost rubbing against 
sheer walls that stretched above them like a stern and unmerciful 
deity, their right eyes were situated so that they could still see 
the wide expanse of the sea. It stretched before them a study in 
silver and white, gleaming even in the cool light, its distant shores 
shrouded by fog and by the other mountains. Beneath them the stone 
fell away to vanish into a defile of rock and debris cluttered with 
fir and spruce in strips so narrow that not even the hardiest of 
woodsmen would have tried to make it a home. The vista, despite all 
of its beauty and breathtaking wonder, reminded them yet again just 
how difficult it must have been for Calephas to bring his troops into 
the mountains west of the Glen.

With enemies that determined to kill them, they had no choice but to 
be equally determined to stop them.

And so they pressed on, charging as many of the talismans facing the 
sea as they could. And by the time the storm finally hit them as they 
rounded the last bend where the path began to descend into a 
sheltered valley, they had finished revivifying the ninth. Heady with 
their quick success, they felt confidant that they would reach 
shelter before the winds and snow blasted them.

They were wrong.

The wind struck from around the western face of the mountain, and 
with it came stinging snow flakes that blinded them. Baerle was 
struck first and she recoiled at the sudden onslaught that came as if 
from nowhere. Her paws slipped on the ice and with a scream almost 
swallowed by the wind, she tipped over backward and spun into the air.

Charles's flesh hardened into granite as he wrapped one arm about the 
rope and the other he drove into the mountainside to better anchor 
himself. Even as James started forward to try and rescue Baerle, the 
rat swung her back onto the ledge, and then pressed his body around 
hers, pinning her between his stony flesh and the wall.

James took another step forward, intent on pulling the opossum free 
from the rat's grip, but Angus yanked back on the rope and shouted, 
"Hang on! They're fine!"

The donkey seethed as he pressed his body against the stone, digging 
the metal spikes on his hooves into the ice. The wind shifted and 
with it the storm battered all of them, stinging snow in their eyes 
and clawing gales through their clothes and hides.

The only thing they could do was hold on and hope it ended soon. 
James glared at the rat and opossum locked in a fixed embrace and 
wished he could make the mountain itself toll in his rage.

----------

Jessica's errands kept her away from Berchem's burrow most of the 
day. This was just fine for Berchem who really wasn't that interested 
in seeing the hawk mage again. At least until she was ready to 
actually do something about the ringing in his mind; as long as she 
kept experimenting and amusing herself, she could go rot. Not that 
he'd ever say that to her, not after her promise to make him into a 
woman for good.

He shuddered at the very memory of it, grateful that it had only been 
for a few minutes, but irritated that it had ever happened in the 
first place. Berchem didn't want to dwell on his brief excursion into 
femininity, but with each gong striking the back of his mind, he kept 
picturing himself in that foreign body. What was worse, as the hours 
dragged and he tried to relax, he started to imagine himself as a 
woman again, dressed like a woman, and going about town and giggling 
with the other women. He even began to wonder what it was that they 
always found so amusing, or what silly nonsense they often whispered 
to one another in an obvious way.

Berchem had never before spent so much time pondering these things, 
and it irritated him that one spell from the hawk had upset the 
course of his usually focused mind. If not for the tolling which 
crippled his reflexes he would have gone hunting to try to clear his 
thoughts. He even tried to fletch new arrows, but when his mind 
didn't start to wonder if he'd have the strength to pull his bow once 
a woman, the tolling kept making his fingers twitch and ruin the 
feathers. After a half hour he gave up and laid back down on the bed 
waiting for anybody to come and bring him news or relief.

Jo had come by earlier that morning and provided a new batch of 
broth, this spiced with cinnamon which made it that much easier to 
stomach the stronger and stronger brew. The vixen admitted that if 
she made the broth any stronger, it was just as likely to make 
Berchem ill as it was to clear his mind. Which meant that the hawk, 
if she was actually going to do something, would need to do it soon. 
Even knowing that, Berchem still wasn't in any mood to see her again.

After drinking another bowl of the cinnamon flavored broth Berchem 
lay back down on the bed and tried to brush the tangles out of his 
tail. In a fit of rage, he dashed the comb across the room when the 
image of himself as a woman not only brushing out her tail, but tying 
ribbon through it came to him. With a loud grump he lay down on the 
bed and crossed his arms, glaring at the wood above.

And that was when he heard a pair of hooves kick at his door gently. 
"Berchem, it's me," a familiar throaty voice cried out.

The skunk breathed a sigh of relief. "Come on down."

Descending the stairs was a broad-shouldered deer; his antlers had 
only been growing for a month but already he sported three points on 
either side. To protect these the deer ducked his head low as he came 
down the steps, heavy, cloven hooves making the wooden stairs creak. 
When he reached the bottom he shifted his stance to avoid stepping on 
the metal comb. "Are you okay?"

He grunted and sat back up, long tail sliding behind him against the 
wall. "I'm fine, Alldis. Except for this pounding headache and a hawk 
who's playing around with magic. Have you found anything?"

Alldis bent over, plucked up the comb, and handed it back to the 
skunk. "Well, a lot of Glenners have been back and forth around your 
burrow here, but I did find a good number of paw-prints and a couple 
hoof-prints that are no more than a few days old. I'm trying to 
figure out who they belong to. And I have the guards actually keeping 
people from coming around and snooping in your windows."

Berchem glanced at either small window nervously, a horrible thought 
springing to mind. Had somebody seen him that morning or in the night 
after he'd changed? "Have people been looking?"

Alldis's ears flicked forward and his black nostrils flared a little. 
"Some. None today though. You're more jumpy than usual."

His brow furrowed and eyes darkened. "It's been a rotten day."

"Jessica's not helping? I saw her talking with the fuller for some 
whitening agent. I guess for a spell or something."

Berchem snorted and flicked his tail. "No, she isn't helping. She's 
playing around with the Curses of all things, like that has anything 
to do with this damn ringing." He put his paws to his head and took a 
deep breath as he felt the sound swell against the back of his eyes. 
"She says she wants to help me get my memory back."

Alldis grunted as he looked around the floor, stepping gingerly with 
his hooves. "That sounds like a good idea." He stopped and bent over, 
white tail flicking up behind him. His ears turned up again and he 
blinked. "Wait, did you say she was playing with the Curses? Just 
what did she..." The curiosity on his snout slowly spread into a wide 
and amused grin. "I've heard from Sir Saulius that Jessica was able 
to make one of the Lakelanders into a giraffe. Did she change you too?"

The skunk closed his eyes and ground his fangs together. "I don't 
want to talk about it."

Alldis laughed and slapped one thigh. "Oh, I get it! She made you a 
woman didn't she?" Berchem opened one eye to shoot his friend a 
deathly glare. The deer kept chuckling. "Well know wonder you're so 
grumpy. You finally had a lady skunk here in your bed and you can't 
do anything about it!"

"Shut up, Alldis! It's not funny!"

"Of course it is," Alldis replied, though one hand rose to feel a 
velveted antler. "Well, you'd be laughing if she made me a doe."

The skunk glowered for a moment longer, before lowering his gaze into 
his lap. "Not anymore."

Alldis glanced at him and rolled his eyes. "Look, I won't tell anyone 
if that's what you're worried about." Under his breath the cervine 
muttered just loud enough for Berchem to hear even through the 
ringing, "It's still damn funny." Berchem grumbled inaudibly, took 
the comb, and resumed untangling his tail fur.

The Glen's chief hunter and tracker resumed his inspection of the 
floor. It didn't take him long to find the claw marks that Angus had 
first found and that Jessica said he'd made. The deer's thick 
hoof-like fingers traced out the lines. He pressed in his snout and 
licked the floor across the marks a few times, before a bit of cud 
slid up his throat and he started chewing. He crawled around a few 
minutes more, taking special care to note some impression in the 
floor just beneath the stairs, before swallowing his cud and standing back up.

The ringing was getting louder in Berchem's mind, and he looked with 
longing hope at the broth for a moment before turning to the deer and 
asking, "Well? Did you find anything?"

Alldis nodded and gestured at the floor. "These claw marks get 
smaller and tighter together as they get closer to the stairs. It's 
like you were turning into your animal form while making them."

"That's what Jessica said. Anything else?"

"There's a few other marks here, very subtle. It looks like somebody 
stomped on the wood here just beneath the stairs. The marks are 
round, something blunt. It might be a hoof. I'm not quite sure. I 
don't have a full impression."

"We're there any hoof-prints outside?"

"Aye, one set. Other than mine. A horse or donkey, not sure which. 
I'm going to have to check all of the equines in the Glen, and that 
means the Polygamites. One of them will match that print. Whoever it 
belongs to might know something."

"Or they might have done this to me!"

Alldis nodded with a low bleat. "Maybe so; hard to imagine. Is there 
anything I can tell Jo you need? More broth? A cor..."

Berchem hissed, "Don't you dare say it!"

The deer laughed and shook his head. "May Akkala heal you soon, 
Bercehm." Alldis chuckled to himself some more as he turned and 
climbed back up the stairs. Berchem glared after the buck as he 
combed through his tail fur. Now he had another horrible image that 
wouldn't leave!


----------

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

Charles Matthias


!DSPAM:4e95fcdc8388154786014!
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