[Mkguild] Inchoate Carillon, Inconstant Cuckold (7 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold
By Charles Matthias



The Matthias house felt so empty with Lady Kimberly and the children 
gone to Metamor. Baerle busied herself with cleaning the place up, 
starting with the main room. Only a year ago she'd been a dedicated 
scout, and now she was nursemaid to the Matthias children, dear 
friend to Kimberly, and... she wasn't sure what to Charles.

Kimberly had once given her permission to pursue the handsome rat, 
but with everything that had happened to him in the last nine months, 
she couldn't help ponder whether it was such a wise idea anymore. Did 
she still love him and desire him?

Even thinking the question made her tremble. She knocked over a 
little wooden figurine of a rat, but caught it before it hit the 
floor. She set it back on the mantle and sighed, resting her forehead 
against the wooden mantle and peering into the gently burning fire. 
It crackled, the flames burning low but still flickering as they 
consumed a bit of oak. She sighed and added another log.

Looking back over the mantle, she was surprised to see the cracked 
bell James had repaired still resting on the end. He must have left 
it there last night before returning to the Inn. He hadn't been by at 
all that day, which was unusual. Even when he was working at the Inn, 
like he did today, he usually made a point of stopping in under some 
pretext to offer help or just to say hi.

Curiously, Baerle took the bell by the handle and hefted it. The 
weight was no more than a sword, but still felt awkwardly balanced in 
her paw. She gave it a downward swing, but the sound was hollow and 
weak, even if clear. Odd. It had been so beautiful when James had 
rung it. Now it just sounded dull.

She set it back on the counter and resumed cleaning, pondering 
instead of the rats, the offer the badger had made to her. With the 
children getting older, there would be more opportunities for her to 
return to scouting duties. Angus had even promised that she would not 
have to serve alongside Berchem. The skunk was the best archer in the 
Glen, and one of the best hunters. But the unhappy relationship she'd 
shared with him a year and a half ago was well known.

Baerle almost dropped her cleaning cloth when the door banged open. 
She spun on her paws, long tail whipping around behind her and 
striking the corner of the nearest couch. James stood in the door 
wide-eyed and a worried look on his face. The donkey stumbled inside, 
hooves clopping on the wooden floor. His eyes found her and he began 
to stammer, "Did... Did I... I leave my... my bell here?"

"It's right there on the mantle." Baerle pointed.

James almost ran to the mantle to claim it. He picked it up and 
rubbed one hand over the side, breathing heavily in relief. "Oh, 
thank goodness. I just had this sudden fear I'd lost it."

The opossum recovered her sensibilities and gestured at the couch. 
"Would you like to stay? This place feels too empty without the 
others." She moved to shut the door which the donkey in his haste had 
left open.

James, eyes locked on the bell, suddenly looked up and shook his 
head. "Oh, I'm sorry, Baerle. I'd love to stay, but I have to get 
back to work. Jurmas is going to brain me for running out like I did."

She felt disappointed at his sudden departure. She bid him stay one 
more time, but he could only apologize again as he slipped out, 
carrying the bell with him. This time he did shut the door. Baerle 
looked about the wide empty room, noted the many rings of the tree in 
which the place was built. So many rings, more than she could count. 
If not for the magic that had gone into the room's fashioning, the 
tree would long ago have collapsed.

And that is just what she did, falling into the couch, staring at the 
rings above her, lost in the endless circles one about another, dark 
and light like a million suns and moons stacked on top of one 
another. And if she wasn't careful, that's all she'd ever end up 
doing too, spinning round and round in circles.

She hoped Kimberly and Charles would not be gone long.

----------

March 4, 708 CR


They reached Lake Barnhardt well after nightfall on the third. 
Charles wanted to push on to the Glen, but even he could see that 
their ponies Malicon and Armivest needed the rest. It would be 
another three hours north to the Glen; better to attempt the ride in 
the morning when all of them were refreshed.

Sir Egland and Intoran had returned to Metamor that afternoon, and 
the elk promised to deliver a report to George, absolving them of the 
need to do so. Once they'd parted ways the rats were no longer under 
orders and could come and go as they wished. So it was that nobody at 
Lake Barnhardt was expecting them, but as they were known, they were 
allowed inside the city gates without having to answer any questions.

Charles spent the evening conversing with Jessica and Weyden. He was 
surprised to learn that the black hawk had learned how to manipulate 
the Curses, but politely declined the offer of a personal 
demonstration. He did oblige his friend by showing Weyden how he 
could turn his flesh to stone and move through rock, but nothing more 
than shoving his arm into the walls of the barracks. Weyden and his 
friends were suitably impressed. The ram Dallar who Charles 
recognized from his last stay in the Keep's dungeons bade him not 
attempt that trick should he make another criminal visit.

The evening, Charles had to admit, was a pleasant one, but his mind 
was ever on the morning. And so well before the sun made its first 
appearance, he and Sir Saulius mounted up and bid their friends 
goodbye. They traversed the road north in silence, the snow-draped 
trees muffling everything.

The sun just poked its feeble arms over the mountains when the tall 
spires of the Glen spread before them in welcome. Charles breathed a 
long sigh of relief. "Home at last," he murmured.

His fellow rat chuffed a laugh. "Hardly compares to thy last venture."

"And if I'd known," Charles replied, feeling a taste of bitterness in 
his throat, "that my little Ladero would have died while I was gone, 
I wouldn't have."

Saulius opened his snout to object, but turned away and shook his head.

The lower clearing for the Glen was mostly swept clean of snow, but 
even at this early hour of the morning few wished to go out into the 
cold. A pair of scouts that Charles waved to walked past, but 
otherwise the town was empty. In another hour or two everyone would 
be out and about and making ready for Spring, but for now almost 
everyone slumbered in the warmth of their homes.

Saulius took both ponies around to the stables while Charles shook 
the chill from his frame and crept inside. The scent of rats was 
strong inside, a biting earthy aroma that swelled his chest and made 
the vine quiver with sympathetic delight. His ears lifted to catch 
the sounds of excited squeaks and scampering paws. But everything was 
quiet and still. Were they all still asleep?

He glanced at the tapestry covered door to his bedroom at first, but 
decided to let Kimberly sleep a little bit longer. He turned to his 
left and very carefully climbed the wooden steps through the interior 
of the massive tree. Not even his claws made a sound as he took each 
step. Everything was dark, but he knew each step with absolutely 
certainty. At the top of the stairs, a little light came in through 
the windows, bringing the room into bright enough relief that he 
could make out the little beds for his children. They'd expanded the 
cribs while he'd been gone, but in another year they'd have to find 
something even larger he was sure.

Yet, all of the beds were empty.

"Charles, Bernadette, Erick, Baerle? Where are you?" He tried to 
laugh, pretending this was some sort of game. He rifled the quilts 
but there was nothing there. His fur trembled.

A sound from the opossum's room made him spin on his paws. Somebody 
was in Baerle's room moving around. He sniffed and caught the 
familiar scent of the opossum nursemaid and relaxed a little. She 
could tell him what was going.

A moment later the opossum stepped out of her room dressed in a robe 
that seemed to have trouble covering her chest. Charles kept his eyes 
focused on her face. "Baerle! What's going on? Where are the children?"

"Oh, Charles!" Baerle blushed and tried to pull her robe on better. 
"I was just sleeping when I thought I heard something. I thought you 
would go straight to Metamor when you got the message?"

"What message?"

"Kimberly took the children to Metamor yesterday. Bernadette, her 
mouse friend from the Kitchens, invited her and you to her son's wedding."

Charles frowned for a moment and then nodded. "Richard. Yes, I 
remember him vaguely. Stuck as a fourteen year old, but I guess 
that's old enough to marry." He narrowed his eyes as his tail curled 
around one leg. "What message?"

Baerle's snout lowered and her voice trembled ever so faintly. 
"Kimberly said she'd have Misha send you a message to let you know in 
case you didn't return in time. I guess you didn't get it. She asked 
James and I to stay behind to let you know."

He felt his Sondeck tightening like a spring but took several deep 
breaths to still it. "It figures. Everything seems to be conspiring 
against me lately. First George tells us to do some pointless patrols 
and now this! No, it's not your fault. I better tell Erick we need to 
turn right back around."

"I could fix something for you both to eat?"

"Something quick," Charles replied, quelling his irritation with 
every ounce of will power he had. "I'll go let Erick know." He turned 
stiffly and almost ran back down the stairs. His claws dug deep into his palms.


----------

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

Charles Matthias


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