[Mkguild] Inchoate Carillon, Inconstant Cuckold (26 of 27)

[C. Matthias]

Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold
By Charles Matthias


Charles drove his arms into the stone, the gray 
creeping up his arms and over his shoulders as he 
pushed deeper and deeper into the ledge. The wall 
of snow rushed toward him with the ferocity of a 
Sondesharan sandstorm. It raced down either side 
of the crevice, parting at the top of a ridge 
some distance above them, before flowing back 
together just in front of the rat. The torrent 
miraculously rushed past Baerle who seemed safe 
inside the crevice before pounding into the rat.

Charles drove his face into the stone beneath him 
and shuddered as he felt the onslaught batter 
across his back, grasping and dragging him 
backward from the stone as it caught his pack and 
yanked. He pulled his tail in close as best he 
could, the battering searing at his stony flesh 
like a million ribbons dashing against him. He 
could feel the straps on his pack tearing and as 
the avalanche continued to pound into him, the 
resonance reverberating through his mind like the 
wild peal of bells, minute after minute of 
unremitting agony that made him scream within the 
confines of the mountainside, the pack finally 
broke free and was swept from his back and down into the valley below.

Food, spare clothing, his bedding, and half of 
the pouches with the magical paste were all gone 
in a moment and lost forever. The only relief 
Charles felt as the snow continued to tear at his 
back was that his Sondeshike had turned to stone 
with him and was safe within his cloak now pushed into the rocky outcropping.

Eventually, the avalanche subsided, and Charles, 
shaking and weary, lifted his head and gazed 
upward. The rush of snow had pushed him, even 
through the stone, down the mountainside a good 
twenty feet. With one trembling paw after 
another, he climbed back up the now bare rock, 
hoping and praying that Baerle had been kept safe in the crevice.

When he reached the ledge, he saw that the 
avalanche had also blown him back the way they'd 
come, as the crevice was a good thirty paces 
away. He saw Baerle at the edge peering out over 
the precipice with a fearful look in her eye. The 
rat scrambled to his paws, still aching in his head, and tried to wave to her.

“No!” a familiar voice shouted from up above. A 
gong sounded, cracking in the air like a fist 
smashing the earth. Charles crumpled to his 
knees, putting his paws to his ears, even as he 
searched the mountain for the source of the voice.

Sliding down the stone on his hooves, with the 
cracked iron bell in his right hand and a short 
sword in his left, was his friend James the 
donkey. A wild look filled his eyes. He came to a 
stop as if unseen hands guided his fall only a 
few feet in front of Charles. He pointed the 
sword toward him and fumed with a high-pitched 
rage. “You! How can you still be alive? I hate you!”

Charles blinked in dumbfounded horror as he 
climbed back to his feet and reached for his 
Sondeshike. “What are you talking about, James?” 
he asked as he gripped the compact Sondeshike in 
his right paw. “What's wrong with you?”

James stepped forward, swinging the bell so that 
it pealed with a groan that made his stomach turn 
end over end. Charles gasped, fighting with all 
his strength to keep standing. The donkey's thick 
lips quivered and his nostrils stretched as if 
they were about to cast forth fiery bolts from 
within. “I have to kill you, Charles.” His voice, 
unrestrained yet almost apologetic in its 
severity. “I have to kill you so she can be mine. 
Nevermore. Nevermore will my soul find itself alone!”

James drove forward with a feint from his sword. 
Charles, still not comprehending anything that 
was happening, extended the Sondeshike and batted 
the donkey's sword away, before taking a step 
back along the path to keep his distance. “You're 
talking madness, James. Who is she? Baerle? She's not mine at all.”

White rimmed his eyes as he smacked the bell 
forward, another concussive tolling that made the 
rat's knees buckle for an instant. He poured his 
Sondecki strength into his legs and kept them 
still, but only just. “Liar!” James screamed 
before jumping forward and trying to smack him 
across the snout with the end of the bell. 
Charles ducked out of the way and swung his Sondeshike to intercept.

The gong-like peal that echoed from the collision 
made Charles's mind blank. He wailed in agony as 
he fell backward, his entire body quivering and 
struggling against the darkness of sleep. He felt 
blood dribbling across his cheeks. Somehow he'd 
kept the Sondeshike in his paws but only just. As 
he lay on his back, he saw the donkey stand above 
him, just out of reach of the rat's legs ad tail.

James's hands were wrapped so tightly about bell 
and blade that his knuckles were white even 
through his hide. “Liar! I've watched you two... 
I'ev seen the way you look at her. And I saw you 
hugging just now. Sharing that intimacy you can't 
have while others can see. But I see! I see! And 
it won't be anymore! Nevermore shall my soul find 
itself alone. Nevermore shall my soul find itself 
alone! Never more shall my soul find itself 
alone! Tolling! Tolling! Bells! The merry bosom 
swells with the ringing it impels!”

The donkey's fevered voice had given way to a 
hysterical braying that echoed across the valley. 
The iron bell glistened and reflected his face as if it were silver.

Charles breathed a single word as his eyes were 
lost in the endless curve of the bell. 
“Marzac...” He gasped and with anguish stared 
into the monstrous and twisted face of his 
friend. “James! This is Marzac doing this to you. 
Reject it like Kayla and Lindsey did! Remember 
what Habakkuk wrote to you! James please!”

“Wretch!” James smacked the bell against rock and 
Charles felt it vibrate up through his body. 
Where he struck the mountain it cracked in a line 
that raced a few feet in every direction. Charles 
dare not turn himself to stone to escape.

James stepped closer to the quivering rat, 
keeping the bell lifted and ready to sound, while 
the sword was held loosely but with clear 
purpose. One wrong move and his friend would 
skewer him as surely as he might a Lutin. “You 
already have a wife, Charles, and yet when I see 
a woman I desire, you steal her heart from me. 
When we go into battle together, it is you who 
steal all the acclaim; everyone recognizes your 
exploits; they are memorialized in song and 
ballad! Yours is the first name any thinks of 
when they think of Metamor's heroes!”

“But what of me? Nothing! Oh, you all keep 
assuring me I'm a good fighter; but I see the 
poison in your words! Nevermore will I listen to 
it. Nevermore will I stand it! You will take thy 
paws from out my heart and take thy form from out 
my world!” He rushed forward and swung the bell down at the rat's head.

Charles spun the Sondeshike into the donkey's arm 
beneath where he gripped the bell. He did not 
want to hit too hard for fear of severing his 
friend's arm; only enough force to break so he 
could subdue him until they could show him how 
Marzac had corrupted his mind. The bell was clearly the linchpin.

But to his horror, even though his staff clearly 
struck the donkey just beneath his wrist, no bone 
shattered and no blood spilled. The Sondeshike 
merely stopped there as if it had struck an 
object even stronger than itself. Charles had 
never seen that happen before, and in his shock, 
he only had enough time to dive toward the 
mountain at his left to avoid the blow coming for his head.

“It's Marzac!” he screamed through the gong like 
blast filling his mind. He wanted so desperately 
to shrink into his beastly form and scurry away 
where the donkey couldn't find him. There he 
could hide away from that carillon, that 
monstrous carillon that towered over them with 
such unremitting hostility and watchfulness. Only 
little animals were beneath its imperious gaze. 
He could be safe if he just lived like a normal rat.

Charles pushed those thoughts away as he rolled 
right back into the donkey's legs, overbalancing 
him for one hopeful moment. James waved his sword 
arm in the air, before lifting his right leg and 
straddling atop of the rat, now once again on his 
back. He lifted high the bell, and with his face 
a rictus of loathing, moaned, “And who tolling, 
tolling, tolling, in that muffled monotone, feel 
a glory in so rolling on the human heart a stone. 
You stone. You... stone. You... you... get thee 
back into the tempest and the night! Nine will unlock. Nine will unlock.”

James swung the bell down. Charles lifted his 
Sondeshike, and felt the blow lance down his arms 
and through his body, filling them a single note 
that echoed back and forth like a living thing 
brought forth, a flame now dancing at the end of 
a candlewick waiting for its brethren to join it.

Charles had enough strength to keep his 
Sondeshike aloft to ward off the next two blows, 
but then even the might of the Sondeck failed in 
him. The bell crushed against his chest, arms, 
and face with the next four blows, bruising his 
flesh and breaking his bones. Blood rained down 
his snout and arms as the harmony swelled 
precipitously, seven voices now joined in 
discordant polyphony imbuing his body with an 
alien rage that made his eyes stream with tears.

With what little was left of his strength and 
flesh, Charles whispered a plea to whatever 
remained of his friend, “It's Marzac, James. I forgive you...”

And then, before the next blow could come, he 
heard a scream and saw through bleary eyes 
something leap onto the donkey's back.

----------

James could feel the will of the carillon alive 
in him in a way that no mere words could convey. 
Nine rings, nine tones filling the rat and it 
would be over. His body would burst asunder from 
the energy filling him, and the carillon would 
itself be manifested beyond the boundaries of the 
cracked iron bell through which it acted. There 
would be nothing it couldn't give to him in recompense after.

Before he could convey the eighth tone, the 
eighth bell of that mighty Marzac carillon, 
something landed on his back and grasped him all 
over with arms, legs and tail. James screamed his 
rage and toppled backward against the rock, 
trying to swing the bell back to brain whoever it 
was that grasped him, his eyes so filled with the 
rat's blood that he couldn't resolve the 
screaming and clawing image that danced from one 
eye to the other. But try as he might, he could not connect the bell to flesh.

James took several more steps back along the 
narrow ledge as the claws grasped his right arm, 
pinning the bell as far from him as it could 
reach. James snarled, flat teeth grinding 
together, and he spun on his hooves in a tight 
circle, flinging out his arm, and the creature grasping his back.

To his surprise, it was Baerle. The opossum 
landed in a heap before him, limbs a scatter but 
gathering beneath her to strike again.

Trash of all trash!

How can a lady don it?

Tolling!

James shook his head, staring in horror at the 
fear in her eyes. He couldn't strike at her. 
Habakkuk had even assured him of that in his own 
strange way. “No!” James said, holding out his 
sword and warding her back, even as he drew the 
bell closer. “Stay back, Baerle! I'm not going to hurt you. I love you!”

“You aren't James!” Baerle cried, as she drew her 
blades and took a step closer. “James would never hurt his friends!”

Trash of all trash! Tolling!

Silence! and Desolation! and dim Night! I feel ye 
now – I feel ye in your strength!

“Baerle,” James shrieked. “Get back! I'm not going to hurt you!”

Yet the ear it fully knows. Yet the ear distinctly tells.

James glared at the bell and shouted. “No! You're wrong!”

“James, destroy it! It's evil!” Baerle gasped as 
she brandished her daggers and feinted toward him.

They are ghouls!

“No!” James shouted in anguish as his eyes were 
filled with a monstrous reflection from the iron 
bell, his own face turned into a beast as vile as 
anything that had attacked them in the swamps. 
Marzac. This was Marzac in his hands and Marzac 
with which he'd struck Berchem, Angus, Charles, and very nearly Baerle herself.

Bells! Bells!

James screamed in horror as he fell back against 
the stone, trying to keep the iron bell still as 
much as he could. Two more strikes against the 
rat and whatever evil had sought to climb out of 
Lindsey's pouch, and whatever evil had sought to 
consume Rickkter's body would have been set free 
through the blossoming of Charles's flesh like a rose unfolding in Spring.

He felt the weight of the carillon above him, 
bearing down like a furnace, sliding along metal 
gears as it lowered to crush him into a smear of 
pulp and ichor against a featureless slab, a 
sacrificial altar that consumed its victims with 
pitiless hunger. They would do to him exactly 
what they had once done to Zagrosek and with equal callousness.

James turned the bell in his hand, slowly as his 
arm trembled and fought with him. He turned it 
until the crack faced him, the clapper within 
stirring and lifting of its own accord. “Go back 
to Hell and stay there! Forevermore!”

He drove the point of his sword into the crack 
and yanked down on the haft. The iron shattered 
with a concussion that knocked him back against 
the path, his upper body tipping over the edge of 
the precipice. The sword and bell were blown from 
his hands, and he grasped at the ledge as he 
began to topple over into the waiting abyss.

A pair of paws grasped his legs and pulled him 
back. Snow-covered tree tops wavered before him, 
as well as a slope of rock and snow that had 
pounded past moments before. But the paws pulled 
him away from that death, until he could get a 
grip on the stone and draw himself back onto the ledge and to safety.

With her paws still grasped around his shins, 
Baerle stared at him in wonder and hope, her face 
a mix of emotions, but so fine and beautiful for 
all of that. “James, is it you?”

James gasped and cried. “Oh, Baerle, it's me! 
It's me!” He grabbed onto her shoulders and held 
her for a moment, before pushing himself to his 
hooves. “Charles!” He ran back across the ledge 
to where the rat lay bleeding and groaning. “Charles, are you all right?”

He knelt at the rat's side, noting the blood 
coming from his gums and ears, as well as a 
little spattering his fur-lined cloak and the 
Sondeshike at his side. Charles blinked and 
stared up at him with admiration. And through his 
bruised and broken chest, halting and weak, he 
said “Never better... now that... the ringing... is gone.”

----------

She had perhaps a mile left before she reached 
the mountain. Jessica wasn't sure if anyone could 
survive such an avalanche, but something had 
survived. She could see flares of light, a 
strange suggestion of a shape forming above the 
mountain itself, one limned with shade, curving 
wide enough to encompass the entire mount. A 
bell. A bell so massive that one ring from it would flatten the entire valley.

And then, just as its definition seemed so real 
and true, a black plume like an alchemist's flame 
rose up from the northwestern flank of the 
mountain, piercing that image and scattering it 
as if it had never been. Jessica squawked in 
horror, wondering and dreading what it is she'd just seen.

Her wings sore, she taxed them even more, diving 
toward the flank of the mountain.

----------

Charles hurt all over and even the few words he'd 
managed had left him breathless. The harmony of 
the bells was no longer in him, but the bruising 
he'd suffered on his face, arms, and in his chest 
made it impossible for him to even sit up. His 
incisors weren't broken, but from the lancing 
pain that riddled his face, he was afraid that 
his jaws might be. He knew at least three of his 
ribs had cracked when the bell had struck his 
chest, but those were easy to heal in comparison.

James, at hearing the rat's words, chuckled 
mirthlessly for a moment, and then he collapsed 
against the rock and his entire body began to 
shake as he wept. Baerle, nestled beside the rat, 
glanced back at the donkey, and then to Charles. 
The rat lifted his right arm which didn't hurt as 
much as his left and waved toward his friend. 
Baerle frowned, looked over his wounds, then sighed and nodded.

Baerle crept over to James's side and rested her 
paws on his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

James sobbed, casting a glance at the broken 
remnants of the bell still wrapped about his 
sword. “I... I would never hurt you. I'm so sorry.”

“I know. Charles knows too.” Baerle wrapped one 
arm around the donkey's shoulders and held him 
gently. “We have to... bandage him.”

James shuddered and began to nod. “Aye.”

As the two of them came forward, another voice 
sounded from behind. “What in all the hells is 
going on? James? Charles? Baerle?”

“Angus!” Baerle cried with relief. “The bell... 
it's destroyed. Help us. Charles is badly injured.”

The badger scrambled in next to Charles and began 
to gently poke him with his claws. “Ow!” Charles said at nearly every poke.

“What happened here?” Angus asked as he felt 
around the rat's face. Charles winced visibly and 
he could feel the badger's thumbs rubbing against 
the break in his lower jaw like twin daggers 
stabbing in his flesh. “Your jaw's broken. Give 
me a moment and I'll set it for you. It's going to hurt like hell.”

If he dared make his tongue work Charles would 
have offered the badger a sarcastic rejoinder for his brilliance.

“I did this,” James said slowly, eyes lowered and 
his hands clasping and unclasping. “Marzac did 
this through me. I'm... I'm so sorry! I should 
have known. I should have...” tears streamed from 
his eyes again and he sat back down on the ledge, 
tail pressed beneath him and hooves clopping 
together through the ice shoes. “I nearly killed you all. I'm so... so sorry.”

Baerle knelt at his side and wrapped one arm 
about his back again. She cast a quick glance at 
Angus. “Can you see to Charles?”

The badger rubbed his paws together and nodded. 
“Of course.” He braced his paws on either side of 
the rat's jaws and grunted. “Hold onto something.”

Charles closed his eyes and dug his paws into the 
stone beneath him. The pain that exploded a 
moment later in his mind made his legs and tail 
kick, but it was a sweet agony compared to what the bells had done to him.

----------

As soon as Jessica rounded the northwestern flank 
of the mountain her heart filled with relief. 
Though the avalanche had cleared the entire face 
of snow, along a small ledge the four Glenners 
all were all there, and no more sign of taint 
existed. James reclined in a heap, head between 
his arms resting on his knees, while the opossum 
Baerle was at his side speaking soft words. 
Charles was propped up against a satchel, while 
Angus wrapped his chest, arms, and even his face in bandages.

James lifted his head as she landed on the ledge 
and swelled to her normal size. “Jessica! Oh 
Jessica, it was Marzac. It came for me, and I 
nearly gave in to it! You have to help Charles!”

Jessica turned between them and folded her wings 
behind her back. “What happened?”

“I destroyed the bell,” James said, gesturing to 
the cracked remains of an iron bell. It was split 
all the way to the haft, chunks of metal broken 
free along the bore. Jessica couldn't see any 
traces of magical energy left within it, but just 
staring at the ruined bell made her feathers 
tremble and her talons scrape. How could an evil defeated still frighten so?

“And Charles?” Jessica turned toward the rat who met her gaze with bleary eyes.

“I struck him with the bell. I beat him with it,” 
James shuddered and lowered his head back into 
his arms. Baerle rubbed his arm with one paw, her other draping along his back.

“If you can heal him,” Angus said, “please do. 
His jaw was broken and there's only so much I can 
do about that. A few of his ribs too. We've got a 
hard climb ahead of us if we're going to get back to Glen Avery.”

Jessica crouched next to the rat who looked up at 
her through the bandages wrapped about his snout 
with a hopeful expression. While healing magic 
was not what she had trained in under Wessex, 
their time traveling together last year had 
taught her many new things and mending broken 
bones and soothing bruises was one of them. How 
much she owed in that to Abafouq, Guernef, or 
even Qan-af-årael she could not say, but to each 
she offered a silent word of thanksgiving as she 
felt with her feathers around the rat's jaws.

Her black feathers glowed faint blue as she 
whispered the words of power so softly that her 
beak didn't even move. The rupture in the bones 
began to mend with each syllable. And she could 
see the rat's eyes relax more and more as the power spread through his snout.

By the time she had finished healing the break in 
his jaws, Jessica felt anew the weariness in her 
body that she had kept at bay these last few 
days. She briefly considered tapping into her 
reservoir, but decided against it. These were 
healing spells after all; there was no need to 
call on more energy than was required.

Jessica turned her attention to the rat's ribs, 
and then to either of his arms. When he was 
finished, exhausted, she almost collapsed onto 
her tail feathers with a squawk. “That's as much as I can do.”

“Can I take the bandages off?” Angus asked as 
Charles's jaws squirmed beneath the bindings keeping them shut and in place.

“For now. The bones are still weak so he'll need 
to keep them supported for at least a week.”

Charles didn't wait for the badger. As soon as he 
had the hawk's permission he tore the bandages 
around his face off and slowly worked his jaws 
back and forth. “Oh, thank you! The pain is still 
there, but, at least I can move my jaw again. 
What are you doing here, Jessica?”

“Burris asked me to help him figure out what was 
wrong with Berchem. Together we were able to see 
that it was the magic of Marzac, and when I 
mentioned a bell, they knew it had to be James. 
That was this morning. I've been flying here ever 
since. What happened to you all? How was it destroyed?”

“It wanted me to hurt Baerle,” James murmured 
from his crouch. “I was okay with killing you and 
nearly killing Berchem, but I couldn't hurt her. 
I guess you know what I did to him...”

“Berchem?” Jessica asked. He nodded but didn't 
look up. “Aye, we know. But why did you do that?”

He ground his teeth together and then sighed. 
“Because of what he said about Baerle.” He 
managed to raise his head and turned both of his 
eyes toward the opossum. “I hated him for it. But 
I couldn't kill yet because then I wouldn't have 
had a chance to kill Charles. Oh.... I'm so sorry.”

“I forgive you, James. Kayla didn't really want 
to hurt us either when she was under Marzac's 
power. It's no different now. “ Charles pushed 
himself up against the pack so that he was 
sitting up properly, long tail stretched out 
between his legs. “Everyone will understand when we get back.”

“And Berchem will too,” Baerle assured him with a 
firm grip on his shoulder. “I'll make sure of that.”

The donkey snorted and lowered his head back 
down. “I don't deserve friends like you.”

“Nobody deserves a friend like me,” Angus 
retorted while thumping his paw on his chest.

They all managed weak smiles at that, even James. “So what now?”

“We need to find a place to rest for the night. I 
suggest gong back the way we came.” Angus glanced 
across the mountain path and then to his friends. 
“Two good days of climbing should bring us back 
to the Gateway.” He glanced at Jessica, “Unless 
you can give us all wings or something.”

“Not yet,” she replied. “but I will fly back and 
let Lord Avery know where to meet you. I have to 
go back and make sure Berchem has recovered now 
that the bell is destroyed.” Her golden eyes 
turned to the cracked ruin of metal and she 
shuddered. “And I have to do something about that.”

Charles lifted one arm. “I can make something out 
of stone here. After what just happened I think 
the mountain will be very glad to donate if it gets that thing off its flanks.”

Jessica nodded and then forced herself back on 
her talons. She walked over to where James 
crouched. The opossum had not left his side once, 
though her snout was rife with conflicting 
emotions. Jessica wasn't sure how much Baerle 
cared for the donkey, but it was clear that she 
had some feelings for him, even if she herself wasn't sure what they were.

Jessica bent low and spread one wing to rest on 
the donkeys other shoulder. “James. Marzac made 
you do terrible things. But you are a good man. 
One of the best I've ever known, and one I'm 
honored to know and call friend. Thank you.”

James lifted his head and blinked. “For what?”

“For destroying the evil all by yourself. Lindsey 
and Kayla couldn't do it. But you did.” She 
pushed her wing claws between his arms until they 
pressed against his chest. “There's more in here 
than you give yourself credit for.”

His lips quivered threatening a smile, before he 
managed to say, “Thank you, Jessica.”

She patted him on the side with her wing and 
offered a silent prayer that her dear friend 
would find the peace in his heart that he needed. 
Her eyes briefly alighted on the ruin of the 
bell, then she turned back to Charles who had 
managed to roll onto his haunches. “Are you ready 
to fashion stone? I will do what I can to strengthen it with magic.”

“I'm already working on it,” the rat replied. 
Beneath his hands the ledge slowly disgorged a 
solid block of granite. Jessica could only gape in wonder.

----------

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

Charles Matthias


!DSPAM:4e9c9d05157045315134984!
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://lists.integral.org/archives/mkguild/attachments/20111017/87a4b40d/attachment-0001.html>