[Mkguild] Inchoate Carillon, Inconstant Cuckold (3 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

And here's Part 2.

Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold
By Charles Matthias




How shall the burial rite be read? The solemn song be sung?

Iron bells!

James blinked open his eyes and gazed at the 
light peering through the window panes, a swirl 
of golden diffused across the floor, turning as 
the glints of light passed through the variegated 
imperfections in each pane. For a moment he 
wondered at the duration of his sleep; then he 
recalled that it was Friday and on that 
particular day he had no duties to the Inn. His 
supple equine lips twitched at the favourable 
possibility of chores to perform for Baerle and Lady Matthias.

But first, the donkey would return to Malloc and 
finish the bell. Even the thought of it sent a 
pellucid shiver through his spine like a vast 
cataract rolling silently but thunderously from a 
steaming sea into the ramparts of the heavens. He 
could neither explain nor even craft images of 
why repairing this bell stirred him so intensely. 
All he knew was that ever since he had begun work 
on it, the startling dreams had ceased and the 
sense of foreboding danger had left him.

James climbed from bed, stretched, dressed, and 
sauntered from his room, down the steps, and 
waved to Jurmas who looked rather distracted as 
he cleaned tables. The deer, whose sleep two 
nights past had been interrupted by the birth of 
twin daughters, blearily returned the gesture.

The crisp morning air was bathed in a delicate 
warmth that teased each fibre of his hide. James 
almost danced along the softening earth as he 
turned to the winding road down to the lake. He 
was arrested by a gust of wind and a brilliant flash from the sky.

He leapt back, reaching for his sword and 
slashing above him. And then was exceedingly 
grateful that he’d missed. Settling to the earth 
a few feet before him was a brilliant white 
gryphon bearing a small man and a tall timeless 
being. Guernef, Abafouq, and Andares, his dear 
companions on the part of his life that he still 
scarcely believed he participated in.

He shouted their names in turn as the Binoq and 
Åelf clambered off the Nauh-kaee’s back. His 
delight bubbled over his smile and, after 
sheathing his sword, into a laugh and firm 
embraces. “What brings you three to the Glen?”

“Sadly, a goodbye,” Abafouq admitted with a long 
sigh. He then smiled and patted the donkey on the 
elbow. “We’re leaving the valley today and 
journeying home. We all hope to return someday, 
aye. But we could not leave and not see our friends one last time.”

“I fear Charles is not here. He rode to the south 
with Sir Saulius to protect the Bishop.”

“We know,” Andares said with a firm smile. “We came to see you before we left.”

“Oh,” James wagged his ears back behind his head, 
and looked between Abafouq and Andares. “Will you be coming back?”

“We hope to,” Abafouq repeated as he stretched. 
Their landing had attracted the attention of 
several Glenners, but they were now known here 
and so left to James. Abafouq noted their stares 
with an almost hungered expression. “This is a 
beautiful land that would make a wonderful home.”

“But it is not our own,” Guernef finished for 
him. The Nauh-kaee’s voice was hard but not 
unkind and seemed to soften with each utterance. 
“We must return to our own homes. You will leave 
our eyes but not our thoughts.”

James nodded, glancing past them briefly at the 
path down to the lake and to the smithy. “Isn’t it a long journey for you?”

“Two months I am thinking,” Abafouq admitted. 
“Maybe more, but we can fly over the ice as long 
as the weather cooperates. I have a few spells to 
keep from freezing there. I’m not covered in 
feathers and fur like my friend Guernef here.”

“No, you aren’t,” Guernef agreed. “But the paths of the sky are open to you.”

James chuckled as his eyes lifted to the many 
evergreen boughs above and the patches of blue 
that could be seen between them and especially 
toward the lake. He could heard the distant throb 
of hammers like the tattoo of a beating heart. 
“I’ve never heard anyone put it quite like that. 
But after riding the Rheh it makes sense.”

“And how are you managing, James?” Abafouq asked. 
“I am thinking it has been at least two weeks since last we spoke.”

He shrugged. “I’m all right. I had some trouble 
sleeping at first, but that’s passed. I’ve been 
keeping busy at the Inn and with some small 
patrol duties. Angus is willing to trust me with 
more since I returned. Oh, and helping Charles, 
Kimberly, and Baerle at their home with chores. 
Are you going to see them again?”

“No,” Andares replied with a faint shake of his 
head. The long braid slid back and forth like an 
adder uncoiling. “We must traverse the entire 
length of the Valley this day. It is already 
midmorning and we must continue on our way.”

James lowered his ears and nodded. “Of course. 
Thank you for coming to see me. I hope you have a 
safe journey, and I hope to see you all again! I 
miss seeing your faces when I wake up in the morning.”

“And we you,” Abafouq admitted. The little man 
hugged him and the donkey hugged the Binoq back, 
gently, pressing his callused hoof-like hands 
into his back. A moment later he and Andares exchanged a firm embrace.

Only Guernef remained aloof, but he did lower his 
head respectfully to him and confess his own 
gratitude. “My wings soar the wider having 
journeyed and fought at your side, James of the Glen.”

The donkey could find no words to say to that and 
so merely put his hand to his chest in salute to 
the Nauh-kaee. Finally, he managed to blurt, 
“Thank you.” It felt so inadequate.

Andares climbed onto the Nauh-kaee’s back and 
helped Abafouq to scramble up into the saddle and 
harness. James took several steps back while they 
waved to him and wished him a final farewell. 
James waved back as twigs clattered and the last 
of the snow skirled in the wake of the white 
gryphon’s leap into the air and beat of massive 
feathered wings. A few seconds more and he lost 
sight of them in the maze of spire and branch. He 
caught sight of them again for a few seconds over 
the lake and then they disappeared to the south.

A hot breath poured from his lips and he scuffled 
his hooves in the hard earth. So they were gone. 
The legends and fairy tales had taken their leave 
of Metamor at last. He stared in to the sky where 
the gray vapour of cool morning had risen and 
lost its drab tint. Day was upon him. He waited 
only a moment more before hearkening to the call 
of the hammers and the promise of the bell. The iron bell.

----------

After a rather hearty meal and some discussion of 
plans for the patrol with the local militia, the 
knights sent their squires to prepare the horses. 
Charles and Intoran dutifully obeyed and so for a 
few minutes as they readied the tack they were 
alone together as often seemed to be the case 
since Father Hough asked them to be an honour 
guard for the Bishop. Yet, despite their growing 
companionship they rarely discussed anything more 
pressing than the cares of the day.

But with the rat’s obvious discomfiture, the oryx 
could not help but ask of it. While carrying 
Egland’s heavy leather saddle toward the roan 
charger Galadan, he caught Charles’s eye and 
said, “You were hoping to go back to your family today.”

“Aye,” Charles replied with a long sigh. He 
straightened the saddle on Armivest’s back. The 
pony whuffled and flicked his tail in the rat’s 
direction somewhat affectionately. “But duty 
comes first. I’ll yank the fur off that Jackal’s tail later.”

Intoran chuckled and rested the saddle on 
Galadan’s back. The roan stomped a forehoof. “I 
doubt it was intentional. We’re here now.”

“It does make some sort of sense,” Charles 
begrudgingly admitted. “But I’m not going to like it.”

Intoran straightened the saddle and began 
tightening the buckles. A thoughtful moue fixed 
on his muzzle. “Have you ever spent any time in 
Jetta? Until this week I’d never been here.”

Charles shook his head. “I passed by Jetta on my 
way to Metamor eight years ago. But I’ve never 
stayed here, no. Are you going to suggest I try 
to enjoy seeing this place while I’m here?”

“Why not?” Intoran shrugged and did his best to 
smile. “At the very least we get to spend more 
time in the saddle. Yacoub’s always happiest that 
way.” His golden eyes grew vaguely distant for a 
moment, then snapped back to the present. “Coming 
out to serve the Bishop has made him the happiest 
I’ve seen him since his brother visited.”

That did pique the rat’s interest. He remembered 
the dour Darius Egland who accompanied them not 
for their own sake, but merely for the chance to 
see his brother that he’d long thought dead. 
Though they’d travelled for nearly a month 
together, they’d never warmed. “Did he bring bad news?”

Intoran shook his head, and then shrugged again. 
“Not that Yacoub has said. He does not wish to 
discuss it, and I have asked him many times. He’s 
just grown distant since then, as if he has some 
great weight bearing him down. I’d help him carry 
it if only he’d let me.” He shook his head and 
then finished securing the straps. “He is happy 
now again. Perhaps this is what he needed. I know 
that serving the Ecclesia in some way is very 
important to him. I confess I like the idea as well.”

Charles put the halter over Armivest’s head and 
scratched the pony behind one ear. “Didn’t you want to be a knight?”

“I think every boy dreamed of being a knight when 
they grew up. No, it sort of accidentally worked 
out that way. I am grateful for it though. My 
swordsmanship has greatly improved and Egland 
assures me that he will train me to the tilt once Spring is here.”

Charles nodded and pondered what Saulius had in 
store for him in training. Was he resigned to 
being his squire, or was it merely a symptom of 
missing his family or even Misha’s assurance he 
wouldn’t be sent on any distant patrols for 
several months? Surely the fox had to know what 
Saulius was up to. Those two had been fighting 
for his allegiance for almost two years now and 
he doubted it was going to come to an end until one of the three of them died.

He had to take his paw away from Armivest’s ear 
lest he begin drawing blood; in his musing his 
scratching had begun to grow fiercer and firmer. 
The poor animal nickered in protest.

“I’m sure it won’t be long before it will be you 
who will be in need of a squire,” he said with a 
forced smile. He then turned to grab Malicon’s 
gear so as to avoid having to keep such an 
expression. “And don’t worry about Sir Egland. 
 From what I know of him, he’s faced far worse 
than a brother’s news and survived. Just give him time.”

“And you do the same, Charles,” Intoran suggested 
gently. “You’ll be back with your family soon enough.”

Sotto voce, with narrowed eyes that made the 
Shrieker’s black hand print turn into a twisted 
claw, the rat added, “I better.”


----------

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

Charles Matthias


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