[Mkguild] Inchoate Carillon, Inconstant Cuckold (12 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold
By Charles Matthias




Charles strokes his furless paw across the top of 
the half-size beds tucked away in one of the 
upstairs rooms. Neatly pressed quilts decorated 
with stylized trees and pine cones covered the 
soft feather mattresses. The fabric had been cut 
in several places and sewn over a sign of a 
Keeper not being careful of their claws. Charles 
had similarly destroying his linens many times in the past.

There were four of these small beds, each hastily 
made when the children had outgrown their cribs a 
month past. After returning to the Glen once 
Kayla had been freed from the evil dragon, he'd 
spent a few days shaping the wood with James and 
Garigan; asking Burris would have been simpler 
and cheating in a strange way. Together they'd 
gathered the wood and built the frames, doing 
most of the work out in the stables Saulius and 
the other knights had built a couple of months before.

These new beds would be good for a year or two he 
hoped. By the time they needed real beds he hoped 
that his carpentry skills would be good enough to 
fashion something finer, though he knew he'd 
likely have to hire help from the local 
carpenter. Burris would have gladly done the 
work, and as much as he liked the Woodpecker, he 
didn't want his children growing up relying on 
magic to solve all of their problems.

If they did grow up.

Charles felt his grip stiffen on the footboard 
and he repressed the shudder that echoed through 
his muscles from his long toes, along his tail, 
and up to his scalloped ears. The wood began to 
crunch beneath his fingers and, startled, he 
managed to let go and take a step back. “I will 
see them again,” he said softly, almost whistling 
the words through his incisors. His paws yanked a 
chewstick from his belt and he stood there 
staring at the empty beds as he concentration on his gnawing.

The small room in which his children slept had 
only a few other decorations. A small cabinet at 
the back stored their clothes and their toys, 
while a yew was hung from the wall over each of 
their beds. The walls were warmed by the magic 
used in the shaping of their tree home. A long 
green and blue rug stretched from the cabinet to 
the oaken door with the beds on either side. It 
was marred by many threads pulled loose by 
careless claws. Charles bent down and snipped one 
between his narrow claws. He felt the vine pull 
taut around his chest as he did so.

“I'm just fixing it,” he said softly as if the 
vine could hear him. Maybe it could.

Charles snipped a few more loose threads before 
standing back up and sighing heavily. Behind him 
he could hear Baerle's gentle paws climbing the 
steps up from the main room. He lowered his long 
snout and waited for her to come and find him.

The opossum ducked her head into the room still 
dressed in her scouting gear. She folded her paws 
before her, white and black fingers rubbing over 
one another anxiously. “They will be safe,” she 
offered quietly. “They will be.”

“The Long House is a good place,” Charles 
admitted with another sigh. “Probably the safest 
place they could be inside the Keep walls now. 
But... plague... it finds ways, Baerle. It finds 
ways through walls and closed doors and windows. 
It comes down chimneys, it comes up cellars. It 
finds ways! And it can last months.”

Though he did not turn his snout to gaze at her 
slender and well-proportioned form, he did watch 
her with one eye. One paw lifted to the end of 
her snout, and in a very timorous voice she added, “Years?”

He snorted and felt a sudden urge to smash his 
fist into something. “No. Plague kills all of its 
available victims before it can last that long.” 
He turned fully away from her and balled his paws 
into fists against his chest. The need to destroy 
something, to see something shatter into a 
million pieces and scatter into the air before 
him was almost impossible to ignore.

She stepped closer and put a paw on his shoulder. 
“Please have hope, Charles. It won't be forever. 
They'll be back in your arms...”

“Alive,” he added through gritted teeth. “They 
better be.” He tilted back his head and glared up 
at the ceiling. “What are you doing here, Baerle?”

Her voice was gentle and her whiskers brushed 
against the tips of his ears. “Angus wanted us to 
come to Lars's to discuss assignments in an hour. Well, it's been an hour.”

“An hour?” Charles asked as he shut his eyes 
tight. The scarred flesh pulled taut until it 
stung. “I've been here an hour?” It had only felt 
like minutes since he'd stepped into his home and 
moved from room to room and seeing their 
emptiness. Everything he'd seen had felt fresh 
and recently touched, but there was no one but himself to touch them.

“Aye,” she replied as her paws ever so slightly 
tightened around his shoulders. He could feel her 
legs with his tail. “Please come with me, 
Charles. There's nothing you can do right now. 
You're only making yourself feel worse.”

Charles lowered his paws to his sides to grab his 
chewstick, but he held it so tightly that it 
snapped in three places before reaching his 
snout. He shuddered and took a few steps forward 
to get away from her. “Maybe... maybe you're right.”

He could hear her bend over to pick up the pieces 
of his chewstick. “Do you need some time to find your Calm?”

“Nay,” he said with a long sigh. “I'll be fine.”

Yet he didn't move. His tail drooped until it 
brushed the rug and the splinters. The vine 
pressed closer to his chest and back, soft 
tendrils and new leaves resting against his 
furred flesh like a hundred comforting hands. His 
ears turned slightly as he heard Baerle the 
opossum stand back up, her scouting vest 
tightening against her chest. He breathed, 
absorbing the scent of his children, sweet and 
subtle with its gentleness, mixed now with the 
earthy flavor of his wife's wetnurse.

“Charles?” Her voice cut through all his other 
senses so quickly that his whiskers fluttered in 
near surprise. “Charles, are you sure?”

“Sure?”

“That you are fine.”

He almost squeaked in bitter amusement at the 
question. “I am not fine. My wife and children 
are... I'm not fine. But I will be fine enough. I 
will... be.” He slowly made himself turn around 
and look up into her concerned snout. “I will be.”

Baerle stared into his face, dark eyes slowly 
moving across his sloped brow before settling on 
the black and twisted scar around his right eye. 
The opossum's whiskers twitched anxiously and 
compassionately, and yet also, diffidently. 
Slowly, her thin, dark lips opened to reveal the 
many pointer fangs hiding behind them. “Then we 
should go. They're waiting for us.”

She held out a paw to him which he stared at for 
a moment before taking. His paw slid into hers, 
soft flesh meeting soft flesh. Their fingers 
curled around one another and the edges of her 
jowls twitched into a faint but reassuring smile. 
Charles could not return it, but he did step 
toward her, and then, alongside her as they 
walked out the door and then down the stairs.

They only let go when they stepped out his front 
door and walked past the tree roots and into the 
snow drifts of the Glen Avery commons.

----------

There were only a few empty seats in Lars's 
brewery when they arrived. Angus was waiting for 
them by the doorway, arms crossed over his 
heavy-set chest, a bit of leather caught between 
his teeth that he chewed between his molars. The 
badger nodded to them both as the rat stared in 
shock at the press of flesh inside the bruin's 
establishment. For Charles, it was like the day 
he and his fellow Sondeckis had come while 
Nasoj's forces were assaulting Metamor in the 
dead of a winter storm. The only Glenner's not 
present were those on patrol and those tending their families.

“Good,” Angus said to them both. “You haven't 
missed anything you don't already know. Let's get you both a seat.”

“Thank you,” Charles said to the badger while trying to smile and failing.

Angus led them into the midst of the crowd which 
had gathered around one of the center long row 
tables just in front of the main bar. There the 
gray squirrel Lord Brian Avery stood with a 
well-used map clustered about by his advisers. 
Charles recognized Alldis the deer hunter and 
Berchem the skunk archer, as well as Burris the 
woodpecker woodmage. When Angus approached 
several of the scouts he knew parted before the 
badger to let him through. Lord Avery lifted his 
head and nodded to the master of the Glen soldiers but he did not smile.

The squirrel's eyes noted Charles, and his nose 
and whiskers twitched, his tail nearly pushing 
the deer aside in its anxious whipping. “Charles, 
I am glad you're here, even if I wish you 
weren't. We may need your special skills in the days and weeks ahead.”

“I'll help anyway I can,” Charles replied. He 
felt a few paws pat him on the shoulder, and he 
nodded to the other Glenners, each of which was a 
friend in one way or another. He was surprised 
that he didn't see James nearby, but he did spy 
Sir Saulius. The knight rat expertly slipped 
through the throng to wind his way to his 
squire's side. Charles felt a brief flash of 
irritation at seeing his fellow rat and his 
superior in the knightly ways, but the moment 
passed quickly. No matter what had come to pass, 
it had not been Saulius's fault.

“Good,” Lord Avery continued. “Now until the 
quarantine is lifted, we have to keep watch over 
the roads and woods nearby. Tarrelton and 
Barnhardt will make sure that nobody escapes the 
quarantine heading north, so we shouldn't have to 
worry about that.” There was a mass sigh of 
relief; none wanted to have to kill fellow 
Metamorians. “But we do have to worry about the 
Lutin tribes and other enemies to the north. Word 
will spread, and when it does, they may try to 
take advantage of Metamor's weakness. It is up to us to put a stop to that.”

Snouts bobbed up and down in agreement.

“The Long Scouts are coordinating the defense of 
the Giant's Dike at Hareford. They have more than 
enough troops there to keep adventurous Lutins 
from causing any more than the usual mischief.”

“And when they slip past Hareford's troops,” 
Angus added, the last word almost dripping with 
disdain, “we'll be here to stop them.”

“I have heard good things about their new 
commander,” Alldis the deer offered with a slight 
tilt to his head. Velveted antlers were just 
beginning to grow beside his ears. “They say Sir 
Dupré is not one to be underestimated.”

“I'll believe it when I see him in battle,” Angus retorted.

“Enough of that,” Lord Avery chided with a sharp 
chitter. “Angus, I need you to organize patrol 
schedules for everyone for the next two weeks. 
We'll also need some horsemen along the road. Sir 
Saulius, can we count on you for that?”

The rat knight placed one paw on Charles's 
shoulder and nodded firmly. “My squire and I shalt not fail thee, Lord Avery.”

Charles bristled at being so volunteered again, 
but said nothing. But the squirrel lord narrowed 
his gaze and fixed the two rats a commanding 
stare. It was strange coming from a squirrel, but 
like all else in Metamor, they had grown used to 
such incongruities. “For now, that is fine. But I 
have in mind another task for Charles in the 
coming days. One where no horse is going to be going.”

Saulius's paw slipped. “Oh?”

Avery gestured at the map, drawing is finger 
across a line of mountains flanking the valley. 
Charles recognized Glen Avery and its forest 
adjacent to the mountains. “After the odious 
Baron Calephas tried to attack us two years ago, 
Burris created several talismans to be placed 
within the mountains that would warn us if the 
Lutins or anyone else should choose those 
dangerous paths; only those who seek us harm 
would risk the mountain road. We don't know how 
long the quarantine will last, so we'll want 
these talisman's fully charged. Charles, you have 
mountain climbing experience and the equipment. 
Once Burris has readied the supplies you'll need 
to fully restore magical force to the talismans, 
will you be willing to venture into the mountains for us?”

The rat frowned at the suggestion but nodded. “I 
can do as you ask; but would it not be better to 
wait until the mountain passes have opened? They 
must be choked with snow and ice now.”

“They are,” Alldis admitted, even as Avery, 
Berchem, and Angus nodded as one. Only Burris 
kept his head still, and that was more from long 
practice to keep from his hurting his beak than 
from disagreement. The deer continued, placing a 
thick hoof-like nail atop the map where the 
mountains framed the northwestern edge of the 
Valley. “And they might be until Summer.”

“They should be fine,” Burris said with a chirp. 
The woodpecker kept his wings close to his back 
as he tried to keep any of the other Glenner's 
from touching him and putting any of his feathers 
out of place. “But they might not be. I was 
hoping to do this myself this Summer but now it shouldn't wait.”

“I agree,” Lord Avery said with a quick nod. “How 
long will it take you to prepare what is needed?”

“Three or four days, maybe five.” Burris opened 
his beak to say something more than closed it and appeared to brood.

“I also have some experience in the mountains,” 
Baerle offered. The opossum stood just behind 
Charles, the tip of her snout framed by his 
scalloped ears. “Nobody should go alone.”

Lord Avery nodded in approval. “I was hoping you 
would volunteer. But there's one more who has 
mountain experience like Charles that I want to 
have go.” He lifted his head and scanned the 
gathered crowd pressing on all sides. “James? Are you here?”

 From the back of the room the donkey's half-bray 
sounded. “Aye, I'm here.” Glenneres stood out of 
the way so that they could see across the cavern 
hall. Lit by a nearby brazier, the donkey's gray 
hide seemed orange in the warm light. He sat upon 
a stool against the wall, one hoof resting on a 
cross-beam, while the other dangled an inch above 
the wooden planks. Resting in his lap was the 
broken bell, glistening in the light like a still 
beating heart in the chest of a slain elk. His 
ears stuck out from either side of his head 
casting shadows across his face so that his dark eyes seemed sunken.

“I would like you to join Charles and Baerle on 
the journey into the mountains,” Lord Avery said 
with a slight nod toward the donkey.

“Of course,” James replied. “I'll be happy to go.”

“And I'll go,” Angus added, “since I know where the talismans are!”

“Then that's settled,” Lord Avery said with a 
flick of his tail. “Burris, let me know when your 
supplies are ready. Now, there's much more to do 
before we are finished. What is next in our defenses?”

----------

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

Charles Matthias


!DSPAM:4e7e999a177591804284693!
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://lists.integral.org/archives/mkguild/attachments/20110924/8915e7dd/attachment-0001.html>