[Mkguild] Inchoate Carillon, Inconstant Cuckold (24 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold
By Charles Matthias


The wind and snow battered the donkey with a 
chill that numbed his hands and ears, and yet, 
the sight of Charles and Baerle pressed so close 
together filled with an anger so powerful that 
heat sluiced from his body like sheets of bark 
torn from a tree. He contemplated beating his 
head against the mountain as if it were a bell. 
Even the hardest of rock could be shattered with 
the tolling of a bell. Charles may have made 
himself stone, but James could make his body 
crack into a million shards. How sweet it would 
be if the rat's body would so shatter, each piece 
falling into the abyss below to sink into the 
Sea. Maybe one day he could find a few pieces, 
smoothed by the water, and he skip them. He'd 
probably manage a dozen skips with little stones made from the Sondecki.

James closed his eyes and ground his teeth 
together, unable to stand seeing the rat's body 
not fall to pieces as it pressed against his 
opossum. Yet closing his eyes brought no relief. 
For while the mountain, the snow, and the storm 
all vanished, he could see nevertheless. 
Stretching before him behind his eyelids was that 
endless room with smooth floor, distant walls, 
and vaulted ceiling lost in darkness and crowned 
with a bell so large that it could not be 
glimpsed all at once. Perhaps it was impossible 
even to glimpse every part of the bell no matter 
how long one lived. James's heart leaped with exaltation.

Tolling.

A passionate light such for his spirit was fit.

As if summoned by the bell, before him stood 
Baerle, her svelte body clothed only in her soft 
gray and white fur. James stretched out his arms 
toward her as her snout lifted, gentle eyes 
rising to meet his gaze. He stepped forward, gasping deep in his chest.

And yet that spirit knew – not in the hour of its 
own fervor – what had o'er it power.

The massive carillon throbbed and made every 
sinew in his body tremble and pause. Between him 
and Baerle stood a familiar rat. Balked, James 
could only stare in horror as the rat slid his 
arms through Baerle's, resting his head against 
her chest, tongue slipping forth from between 
long incisors to tease her breasts. A light 
giggle escaped her throat as she dangled one arm, 
and gently stroked the back of his soft, 
saucer-shaped ears with her slender fingers. Her 
snout lowered and short whiskers brushed across 
the top of the rat's head in a warm kiss.

James screamed his rage, but in the echoing knell 
he could hear nothing of his own voice. He took 
another step, but felt something pull backward on 
his tail. He turned, and saw Angus there, one 
meaty paw wrapped around the end of his tail, his 
thumb claw working through the black tuft as if 
it were a daisy he were plucking petals from.

Thy souls halt find itself alone. Forevermore!

James shook his head, putting both hands on his 
ears as he shouted, “Nay! Nevermore! Nevermore!” 
He gasped and longed for Baerle whose paws were 
slipping down the rat's arms and equally bare 
chest. The words echoed forth from his throat as 
if they had been uttered by the bell itself. “How 
many memories of what radiant hours at sight of thee and thine at once awake!”

How many scenes of what departed bliss! How many 
thoughts of what entombed hopes!

No more!

The rat and opossum, their bodies entwining, 
began to move away from him, until he could see a 
bower of sweet willows and pristine golden air 
and smell the fragrance of honeysuckle and 
strawberries. There in they, on soft loam that 
stretched up from the featureless floor, laid 
down on atop the other, hidden behind the screen 
of small leaves and their branches that cascaded 
from the willow like a spider's net. James 
struggled to reach out for them, but Angus's grip 
on his tail was impossible to break.

Tolling.

Tolling.

Bells.

James shrieked at the immanence above him, 
begging with tears in his enraged eyes.

Bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells.

James crumpled to his knees and found his gaze 
fixed upon the willow and the lovers within. His 
heart ached and he beat his hands against the 
ground, wishing that he could feel the bell in 
his palm. Not one bell he knew, but all nine that 
had once hung in Marzac. With them he would ring 
out shatter his enemies. And when he was finished...

O hyacinthine!

Thy memory no more!


none would ever remember the rat!

And then, James opened his eyes and blinked as he 
saw Charles and Baerle stepping apart on the 
ledge. The biting wind had fallen into a soft 
breeze, and the billows of snow pouring out of 
the sky had settled into a gentle caress of 
flakes. The storm had come to its end.

“Are you two okay?” Angus asked.

“We're fine,” Charles called back as he brushed 
snow off of his shoulders. “The mountain was very understanding.”

Baerle shuddered and flicked her ears from side 
to side to free them from snow. She smiled 
briefly at both Angus and James and then turned 
to the west. “Let's get out of here.” She wasted 
not time in starting down the path toward the valley.

Charles followed quickly after her, and James 
bolted forward so quickly that he almost yanked 
the badger off his feet. “Not quite so fast there, James!”

James grunted and wondered if he could manage two accidents.

----------

The sky was beginning to darken as the sun 
reached the Dragon mountains in the western sky 
by the time Jessica had finally managed to gather 
everything she would need for her casting. Since 
Burris never performed ritual spells, he had no 
chalk or anything else with which she could draw 
lines. She had been forced to substitute fuller's 
bleach and cooking flour, but the physical 
composition of the lines was not vital; it meant 
only that she would need to be more careful in her drawings.

The Avery twins were good little gentlemen and 
volunteered to carry the sacks for her to 
Berchem's burrow that late afternoon. She 
complimented them and as Lady Avery predicted, 
both of the squirrel's became even more 
enthusiastic and attentive to their newfound 
duty. Not only did they carry the bags, but they 
volunteered to help her pour them and keep the 
lines pristine. Just seeing these two made her 
wonder what Weyden and her children would be like.

The skunk was in obvious pain when she arrived 
with both Burris and Jo in tow to help. The 
woodpecker situated himself in the corner next to 
Berchem's fletching gear, while the vixen busied 
herself over the hearth preparing more of her 
strongest broth. The scent of cinnamon was strong 
and made Jessica blink a few times as it tickled 
her tongue, but after a moment she found she could ignore it easily enough.

Berchem lay on the pallet with one paw gripping 
his head fur, muscles standing out along his neck 
and cheeks. He nodded briefly when Jessica asked 
if he could still hear her, but his jaws were 
clamped tight. His quilt had claw marks furrowed 
through it where he'd dug into the fabric. With 
his other paw he kept this pressed close to his 
chest and waist. His tail lashed against the wall in a steady rhythm.

Jessica turned to the gray squirrels whose 
worried eyes stared at the skunk. “Okay, you two, 
set the bags there, and get the floor clear. I 
need everything out of the way for this spell.” 
They hurried, claws clicking on the wood as they 
set the bags down and then ran to the lamp and 
small table, pushing them against the wall near 
the hearth and fletching equipment. Burris had to 
yank back one foot to keep it from being squashed beneath the table.

They returned for his clothes chest, and then 
looked at the hawk with wide eyes. Darien asked, 
“What should we do now, Jessica?”

“I'm going to need Berchem in the middle of the 
room,” Jessica said. She glanced at the vixen who nodded.

“I'll have him up in a minute, this batch should 
ease his pain some.” Despite the optimism in her 
words, the healer's voice betrayed her fears. 
Time was growing short for the skunk.

“We can move him,” came the voice of Lord Avery 
from the top of the stairs. Following him down 
was Alldis the deer. The buck had a fierce scowl 
on his muzzle, but he did manage to give Jessica an odd smirk as he passed.

“Thank you both,” Jessica said as she hopped out 
of the way. Squirrel and deer grabbed the skunk 
from either end, and with a heave, hoisted his 
quivering body out of bed and placed him down in 
the center of the floor. His long tail continued 
to lash back and forth. She sighed, “Could 
somebody hold that down for a moment?” Lord 
Avery, who'd carried his legs, knelt down and 
grasped the skunk's tail between his paws and 
chittered in surprise as he struggled to keep it still.

Jessica bent over the squirrel's shoulder and 
drew a sigil with one of her wing claws. It 
flared with a blue light before sinking down past 
the wide-eyed squirrel to rest on the skunk's 
erratic tail. The tip of his tail fixed itself 
against the floor while the rest of it struggled 
to yank it back up. “That should do it for now. 
Darien! Christopher! Time to make some lines.”

“We'll be at the top of the stairs if you need 
us,” Lord Avery said, before giving his two boys 
a meaningful glance. They nodded obediently to 
their father, then picked up the bags of white 
powder and stood on the other side of the skunk.

“Where do you want these?” Darien asked.

“We're going to make a circle around Berchem 
here. Now pour like I showed you.” Jessica 
directed the two boys and helped them pour the 
powder in a smooth and even line. Despite how 
jittery these normally were, they managed not to 
spill anything or brush out the lines with their 
tails behind them. Jessica did have to make 
corrections with her wing claws, but overall she 
was pleased with how well they'd done.

“Now,” she told them with a squawk, “we're going 
to create two more circles outside this one.” And 
as Burris watched and Jo brewed, they did just 
that. As they were finishing up the third circle 
in the casting, the vixen carried her broth in 
the pot very carefully, stepping over the lines 
without breaking any of them, before crouching 
beside the skunk's head, tail tucked between her 
legs to keep it from wagging and disturbing the 
powder, and feeding him the broth. By the time 
she managed to coax his muzzle open, Jessica was 
congratulating the two squirrels on a job well done.

“That looks excellent! Now those bags look light 
enough for me to finish the rest. I want you two 
to go watch with your father. It's going to be too dangerous to stay in here.”

“Aye, Mistress Jessica!” they intoned with a 
faint hint of disappointment in their voices. 
What boy wouldn't want to see something dangerous?

But leave they did, and once they were gone, the 
hawk turned to the vixen and said, “You may want 
to stay in case the spell causes him more pain. 
But you'll need to stay outside the circles.”

“I know. Just let me finish giving him his broth.”

By the time the skunk had finished drinking, 
Burris had provided a soft warm glow to the room 
from the surface of the wood. It was a very 
different sort of illumination than a trio of 
witchlights, and to Jessica's chagrin, it seemed 
to do a better job of showing her the entire 
spell. Jessica cradled the bag of fuller's bleach 
and began to trace out runes between each 
concentric circle. Slate would have made a better 
floor, but Burris's tree floors were very smooth 
and he'd be sure that the bleach would bring it 
no harm. She'd need to wash her claws though when the spell was done.

Berchem curled into a fetal position inside the 
inner circle, eyes closed but no longer as 
strained. His tail remained fixed to the floor. 
Jessica watched him with one eye as she moved 
around him first through the outer circle, and 
then after exhausting the bleach, through the 
middle circle with the flour. Her back and wings 
were sore by the time she'd finished spreading 
the white lines, but at least they had been 
drawn. This Symphony was designed to open up the 
skunk's mind and to let Jessica see within. She 
would not be able to see his thoughts, but only what he saw.

After finishing the lines, she set both bags down 
at the foot of the steps, then moved into 
position between the outer and middle circles. 
She breathed a few words, tongue rasping against 
her beak, and the powder began to slowly shimmer 
a faint green hue. The glow converged to the 
single symbol she had drawn inside the innermost 
circle near to the skunk's head. An oculus, and 
there she gazed, as the wood between each of the 
lines of power wavered, shifting and blending in 
hue with red, blue, yellow, and a many more 
colors than she could name. It glistened like a 
soap bubble in flickering candlelight for several 
seconds before resolving into a miniature replica 
of Berchem's burrow. Only this one shifted back 
and forth as if she were seeing through the skunk's eyes.

And in truth she was. Her will sped the image 
backward, passing through the hours of 
wakefulness, the fitful attempts to sleep, the 
grinding of eyelids as the pain became too great, 
and finally, she came to that night. Her breath 
was ragged and before her the skunk quivered on 
the ground like an animal struck by wagon wheels. 
But the image was clear; she watched through 
Berchem's eyes as he walked home through the Glen Commons one last time.

None of the others could see what she did in the 
oculus, but she could feel their presence around 
her. Burris kept his wings folded behind his back 
with his beak open and his tongue whispering soft 
incantations to help keep the Symphony stable. Jo 
rubbed her paws together nervously as she watched 
Berchem suffer on the floor, casting frequent 
glances at Jessica in wonder. The skunk kept his 
arms and knees against his chest as his snout wrinkled in ever growing agony.

And through the vision of memory Jessica saw the 
skunk descend into his home, begin to put away 
his things, only to turn back toward the stairs. 
She could not hear anything but her eyes lost no 
detail. When the door opened up, she felt her 
heart catch, knowing full well that whoever 
entered would be their assailant. And yet, all 
that seemed to come down into the room was shadow.

Jessica felt her body shake and it took all of 
her concentration and will to keep her gaze fixed 
upon the oculus and her wings behind her back. 
How desperately she wanted to spread those wings 
and fly away from the room and a nameless horror 
that reached up out of that oculus like the 
terrible presence in the Imbervand had once 
reached for her. Reached and nearly caught her.

This time, the darkness that descended the steps 
came in the shape of a man, or at least it seemed 
that it was man-shaped. There was no way to tell 
what sort of Keeper it might be, if indeed it was 
a Keeper. After what must have been a brief 
conversation, the shadow swung its arm, and 
Berchem crumpled to the ground, vision blurring 
in and out. Jessica swallowed, squawking with a 
fear that she could not control.

Berchem's arm came forward and wrapped around the 
shadow's neck, and bent them back over the steps. 
But this sudden turn of fortunes lasted only a 
handful of seconds before the skunk's vision 
blurred again and he was reduced back to the 
floor, the shadow towering higher and higher over 
him like a monolith of night as every mote of 
vision scattered by some unseen force. And then 
everything was swallowed by the night.

The spell flared around her in a violent golden 
light and then vanished. Jessica screamed and 
toppled over, the world spinning in a vomiting profusion of color.

----------

What they thought had been the storm's end proved 
only to be a brief reprieve. After descending 
into the valley, they encountered one more 
talisman, before the biting wind and snow 
returned with a renewed ferocity. They were 
forced to take shelter in a nearby cave that bore 
the faint scent of bears and after making sure 
that there were no bears hidden within, they made 
their camp and tried to get warm again.

And within the deepening gloom of night, they 
rested and tried to recover both strength and 
breath. James glowered at the storm. It had given 
him so much hope but had offered him no chances 
to strike. And now, even as they hid, it ebbed, 
its howl rendered no more potent than a puppy's whine. What a waste.

“The storm seems to be dying,” he said down to 
Angus, who was warming his paws by the fire. 
“Should we go back out? Charles and I could scout around.”

“Nay,” Angus replied with a shake of his head. “I 
trust you both, but night's already fallen. It's safer to wait until morning.”

“I could always move through the mountains,” Charles offered.”

Angus offered him an incredulous look. “Can you bring the paste with you?”

The rat's muzzle scrunched into a foul moue. 
“Nay. Very well. It's probably better I don't 
risk it anyway. Last time I tried that one of the 
mountains tried to keep me prisoner.”

“One of the mountains?” Baerle asked with 
open-faced wonder. “Keep you prisoner?”

“I suppose I'm up to telling the tale.”

“In a moment,” Angus grunted and shifted on his 
haunches. He rubbed his paws together, and then 
stroked his claws through the fur on the back of 
either hand. “We should be much further along. 
There's one more talisman here in the Valley, and 
then we reach the next mountain. It has paths 
alone both flanks, and talisman on both flanks. 
If the weather is good, we can save half a day's 
journey by splitting in pairs and taking either flank.”

“Is that wise?” Charles asked with a frown. He 
held a half-gnawed chewstick in one paw and 
lifted it to his teeth, but stopped just short to 
add, “Storms come quickly in the mountains. We 
could be surprised again, and it's much more dangerous for two than for four.”

“I know, and if there is any hint of cloud in the 
sky, we won't risk it.” The badger stretched his 
arms and then leaned back from the fire, casting 
a glance at opossum, rat, and then to the donkey. 
His expression was determined despite his weary 
countenance. “But if the sky is clear, I think we should take the chance.”

If they were split, then it didn't matter who 
James was paired with. He smiled and nodded his 
head vigorously. “I concur. The sooner we get 
this done, the sooner we can go home. Let's split 
up in pairs tomorrow as we go around the mountain.”

Charles turned to the donkey with an uncertain, 
but wavering expression. “Are you sure, James? We 
never split up in the Barrier Range.”

“We should be okay here,” James replied with a 
warm smile. “These mountains aren't as dangerous as the Barrier was.”

The rat chewed on his stick for several seconds 
before finally sighing and nodding. “Baerle? What do you think?”

The opossum stretched out her legs and leaned a 
little closer to the fire. “A little worried, but I think we'll be okay.”

“If the weather is good,” the rat said after 
another few seconds gnawing wood chips, “then we 
should take the chance. I don't like it though. 
I'll be very happy when we meet up on the other side.”

“It's decided then,” Angus said with a heavy 
sigh. “Now let's get something to eat and try to get some sleep.”

James nodded , heart eager, and his mind filled 
with prayers and hopes that the weather would be 
clear in the morning. He ran his hand over the 
bottom of his pack and felt the outline of his 
bell. It trembled beneath his touch, and with 
each vibration he could hear the storm coughing 
and struggling to continue. His lips kisses 
themselves as he heard the sweet tolling echoing 
beneath the cry of the wind. The sky would be 
clear. His bell would see to that. Tomorrow that 
sky would be clear. Tomorrow he could kill 
Charles and make Baerle his at long last.

How well he would sleep tonight!

----------

Jessica wasn't sure what time it was, but it must 
have been very late indeed to judge by the 
grogginess in the doe reclining in a chair by the 
door. The hawk was laying on a bed of pillows in 
a small room in what she recognized as the 
Mountain Hearth Inn. As she rose and looked 
around, the doe stirred and, blinked her large 
eyes, and then asked in a worried voice, 
“Jessica! Are you feeling okay? You just passed out when the spell...”

“I passed out?” She rubbed one wing across the 
top of her head, the long feathers brushing near 
to her nostrils, as she slowly put her talons 
beneath her as carefully as she could. “is everyone else okay?”

The doe Erica grimaced and nodded a few times 
before shaking her head. “Berchem couldn't hear 
any one again. Jo managed to sooth his pain some, 
but, it's very bad. Are you okay?”

Jessica nodded after a brief dizzy spell. “How long was I unconscious?”

“It's been eight candlemarks,” Erica replied. “Do 
you want me to fetch Burris or Lord Avery?”

“Nay, I think I need lie down again and sleep. 
Just help Berchem get through the night. I will 
be there at first light. I know what I need to do.”

Nervous, Erica folded her hoof-like hands over one another. “What did you see?”

“I couldn't see the attacker, but it felt like Marzac.”

She shook her head. “I don't know who that is.”

“Lord Avery should know.”

“I will tell him. But... what are you going to do?”

Jessica lowered herself back down to the pillows, 
exhaustion washing over her and pulling her 
further and further into the cushioned bed. “I 
have to hear what the ringing sounds like. It's 
the only way to see through this spell.”

Erica frowned, but nodded and then turned to the 
door. “I'll go tell them. Rest well, Lady Jessica.”

The hawk nodded and waited until the doe blew out 
the lantern before laying her body back down on 
the pillows. She was asleep a few seconds later. 
The last thought that past threw her mind was of 
the hyacinth and its power. She was going to need it.

----------

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

Charles Matthias


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