[Mkguild] Dominion of the Hyacinth (7/10)

[C. Matthias]

Part 7 of Dominion of the Hyacinth!

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If there was one thing she wished she spent more 
time studying it would be the book that Yonson 
had given and Habakkuk had translated for her. 
She may hold the secrets to the Pillars of 
Ahdyiojiak but they did her no good in the middle 
of the day. A much simpler teleportation spell 
would have sufficed to bring her from Keeptowne 
to Lake Barnhardt with only a few minutes 
preparation. Instead she was forced to fly there 
herself, a journey of at least two hours if not 
three if the winds were against her. As it was a 
southerly wind was dragging heavy clouds up into 
the valley and providing several thermals on 
which she could rely to speed her on her way. 
Still, she feared for her poor husband in that time.

No matter how she assured him, what could he 
possibly think after seeing what he'd seen?

He will not understand.

No, Jessica agreed, Weyden wouldn't understand. At least not yet.

Nor will your friends.

She flapped her wings and pushed herself higher 
in the current of air. Beneath her she could see 
the eddies and cataracts of the Metamor river 
spilling one over another as they cut a course 
through the rugged and heavily forested terrain 
between Metamor and the lake. The hawk normally 
preferred to follow the road in case she saw a 
friend, but haste was imperative.

Although she didn't think her friends would 
understand now matter how quickly she returned them to adulthood.

They will in time. You will help them.

Jessica felt buoyed by that thought. But there 
was still the matter of what she was going to 
say. How could she ever explain it to them? How 
could she ever explain it to Weyden?

Open his eyes. Make him see as you see.

How she wished it were that easy. He had 
doubtless heard from Rickkter all about the evils 
and dangers of a hyacinth now. She wasn't worried 
about him actually touching the hyacinth, not 
after seeing all of their friends reduced to 
children. But if he had taken part in their 
well-meaning but misguided attempt to destroy the 
hyacinth, then it meant that he did not trust her 
anymore. Could mere words ever repair such lost 
trust? She did not think so and it ached her 
heart to know that her beloved Weyden did not trust her.

Actions heal. Actions will bring back trust.

That was true. Words could only go so far to 
repair the breach that her friends had made between her and her husband.

What kind of friend would make such a breach?

The thought unsettled her and she began a slow 
descent as her feathers almost trembled. Could 
she trust her friends again? They had betrayed 
her by trying to destroy the hyacinth. And not 
just Rickkter who was always headstrong and often 
erratic, but Kayla, James, and Charles. They had 
been her dearest companions when they sought to 
destroy the threat from Marzac. And now they 
sought to undermine her and to sabotage her hawk, her husband, her Weyden!

Leave them as children.

The idea certainly had appeal, even if only as a 
bit of a punishment for their ill-behavior. A few 
days of childhood would be good for them. Perhaps 
a few weeks for Rickkter. Jessica nodded to 
herself and pumped her wings to climb back into 
the thermal proper. And when she raised them up 
from childhood, they would understand and be her 
most loyal supporters. But that would only keep 
them from betraying her again. What could she do about Weyden?

Do as you intended all along.

She had to ponder what that meant for several 
minutes as the air carried her northwest along 
the river. The towers of Lord Barnhardt's castle 
loomed in the distance, as well as the deep blue 
of the lake. And somewhere her Weyden was waiting 
for her. He was always so faithful and devoted to 
her in the past. Why could he not be obedient as well?

A wife should be obedient to her husband.

Jessica felt her chest swell for a moment and she 
knew what she had to do. The time had come to use 
her shape-changing abilities on Weyden and 
herself. She pondered what name she should take once she became the husband.

Master.

That was true. She would now be a Master in guild 
parlance for her magical trade. But Master what? 
Jessic perhaps? Yes, she cracked her beak in an 
avian grin. Master Jessic would do nicely. Master 
Jessic and his faithful and obedient wife Weyda.

Master.

The air felt good beneath her wings. Lake Barnhardt neared.

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The barracks were not suited for children but 
with nine little ones full of energy and abandon 
Naomi wasn't sure where better she could keep 
them. The only room in the barracks big enough 
for them to run around without injuring 
themselves was the mess hall where the only 
things they could climb over or under were the 
tables and long benches. Naomi had all of the 
spoons taken elsewhere before they could be 
shoved down snouts or thrown around the room and 
she also had her soldiers check for any knives 
that had been left behind but gratefully there 
were none. And once she had all nine of the 
children secure, no small task as they were both 
strong for their age and size, and in the case of 
the rat and raccoon squirmed with more energy 
than an entire raging band of Lutins, she sent 
for a few older women she knew who would have 
clothes they could reuse to make the children presentable.

But the children were not happy with being 
carried and stuffed into the mess hall, and she 
had a few claw marks and bites on her arms to 
prove it. At least neither of the skunk children had decided to spray them!

Not ten minutes after Naomi had sequestered all 
of the children in the mess hall and only a few 
minutes after all of their clothes and gear were 
stored and locked in the pantry at the back, a 
quartet of women headed by the buxom tavern's 
wife, a brown bear named Christina, arrived to 
take charge of the children. Christina glanced 
across the room from beneath her white scarf and 
crossed her arms, emphasizing the ample 
providence supplied to her own six children 
enclosed within a light green bodice and gown.

“Where did these children come from!” Her voice 
growled with delight as her warm brown eyes melted with motherly affection.

“They aren't really children. It was a magical 
spell gone wrong,” Naomi explained as one of the 
two giraffes bumped into her thigh and nearly 
stepped on her foot. “Larssen! Watch where you're going!”

Christina and the other women who had bundles of 
trousers and tunics for children in their arms, 
stared wide-eyed in wonder. The bear scratched at 
the fur beneath her wrist with carefully trimmed 
claws. “That was Larssen? The soldier from Metamor?”

“Aye. The ram is Captain Dallar. Weyden the hawk 
is the only one who wasn't struck. He's waiting 
for his wife to arrive in a few hours. It was her 
spell that did this; she'll be able to fix it.”

“And you need us to clothe them and keep them 
well behaved?” Naomi nodded. A disapproving glint 
came into Christina's eyes and a thoughtful twist 
to her snout. “And they think they are children?” 
The archer nodded again. “Oh good! That makes this easy.”

The bear slapped her paws together and bellowed, 
“Children! Children! Come to your auntie 
Christina!” The clap and her booming ursine voice 
were enough to make all nine heads turn in 
surprise. Larssen, Dallar, and Van had been 
playing a game of tag that involved jumping from 
table to table when they weren't running around 
the edge of the room. Maud and the girl skunk had 
settled themselves on their knees and were 
pretending to serve each other tea. The rat and 
raccoon were wrestling and rolling about beneath 
the tables hissing at each other while the donkey 
and the other skunk kept trying to join in only 
to be pushed aside. All of that stopped 
immediately, though the rat and raccoon resumed 
their struggle after a second's pause.

The two girls came forward, eyes bright and awed 
in the bear's presence. Dallar, Larssen and Van 
all tagged each other one more time before 
rushing over obedient to their auntie. The donkey 
tugged on the rat's shoulder and pleaded, “We gotta go! C'mon!”

Christina leaned forward slightly and let her 
voice deepen with a faint growl. “You two! Stop 
that this instant! Don't make me come over there and paddle your tails!”

The threat caught the rat and raccoon's 
attention, and the pair scampered toward the door 
with the rest of them. The rat actually ran on 
all fours before standing up, his haunches 
shorter than the others. A terrible black scar 
covered the right side of his face. He and the 
raccoon glared at each other, even though the 
other skunk and the donkey child were standing between them.

“That's much better!” Christina said with prim 
satisfaction. “Now, which of you good little boys 
and girls would like to hear your Auntie Christina tell you a story?”

Every paw went up amid bleats, pips, and squeaks of, “Me! Me! Me!”

Christina looked them over quickly, but lingered 
on each long enough that the children knew she 
was watching them. “Very good. Now before I can 
tell you a story, we need to get you dressed. 
Little children shouldn't be without their 
clothes! Your aunties all have something for you. 
Are you going to be good? Tell your auntie 
Christina that you're going to be good.”

“I'll be good!” The girl skunk promised.

“Me too!” the rat squeaked, tilting his head back 
to gape at the bear. “I'll be good!”

The raccoon stomped one foot. “I'll be better!”

“No you won't! I will!” The rat squeaked back with a glare at the coon.

The two promptly threw themselves at each other, 
claws and teeth ready. Neither reached the other 
as both were snatched out of the air by the 
practiced paws of Christina. The bear grabbed 
both by the scruff of their neck and pulled them 
apart, giving each a firm shake. “Now that is no 
way to behave! What's your name?”

The rat tried to step on his own paws in an attempt to look smaller. “Charles.”

“And yours?”

The raccoon tried to give her a defiant stare but 
he wilted under her imperious, wide snout gaze. “Rickkter.”

“Now, Charles, Rickkter, there will be plenty 
enough time for tumbling later. This is story 
time. I want you to apologize to each other.”

Charles half-lifted his snout so that it sort of 
pointed in the raccoon's direction. “I'm sorry.”

Some of the other children sniggered. The boy 
giraffe tried to reach down and grab the rat's 
tail, but a glare from one of the other mother's 
straightened him out. The raccoon wrinkled his 
nose in distaste and lowered his ears, but he 
finally managed a small, “I'm sorry.”

Christina rumbled a little chortle of delight. 
“Good. Now shake paws and then we'll get back to 
getting you properly dressed. Come on you two... shake paws and make up.”

Charles and Rickkter took uncertain steps toward 
each other. The rat had to look up at the 
raccoon, but he stood as tall as he could on his 
haunches, lifting his snout high so that the tip 
of his nose was even with the raccoon's snout. 
They both extended paws and after hesitating a 
few seconds, managed a quick shake before 
springing back apart like two lodestones improperly aligned.

“Very good! Naomi, can you help us get these little ones dressed?”

Naomi nodded and accepted a small bundle of 
clothing from one of the mothers while Christina, 
through bulk, personality, and the experience of 
six children of her own, directed each of the 
children with a word and a claw and these finest warriors of Metamor obeyed.

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Weyden waited with a pensive heart as he paced 
back and forth across the barracks roof. The sun 
fell behind the first of the clouds he'd known 
were coming from the south, and now those same 
clouds pressed northward over Lake Barnhardt and 
toward the Glen. The rains were coming more 
quickly than he'd thought that morning; they'd be drenched before the sun set.

He noted the clouds and the coming shower only 
because it meant for a few seconds he wasn't 
contemplating what to say to his wife when she 
arrived. On the other side of the barracks roof 
bloomed the hyacinth, its green stem and purple 
blossoms turning not to follow the sun but to 
watch him as he paced, talons digging at the 
stone roof and gouging the granite blocks. The 
depression which Jessica had filled with loam and 
planted the hyacinth smelled both healthy and 
vile to him, like a store filled with freshly 
baked bread in which a leper was draining puss 
from all his sores. No matter how many times he 
looked at the clouds his eyes always fell back to 
that flower and his thoughts to Jessica.

Jessica, Jessica, what voices spoke to her mind 
that convinced her she could do these horrible 
things? And what could he hope to say that would 
convince her that she had been corrupted by 
Marzac? Both Lindsey and Kayla had all of their 
friends at their sides to help them see what was 
happening to them. That Åelf... well he had gone 
off on his own, but what could really tempt an 
Åelf anyway? And the Binoq and Nauh-kaee had each 
other and he hoped that was enough. James had a 
few of his friends at his side and that had been 
sufficient. All that Jessica would have was him.

Was he enough?

And what if he couldn't do it? What then?

These questions filled him with an agony worse 
than all the months locked in the dark prison 
without any hint of sky to cheer his soul. They 
seared his heart and made him tremble like a new 
hatched chick. Weyden gasped for each breath with 
muscles sore as if he'd been flying for weeks. 
The air grew heavy and crushed him down toward 
the roof. He folded in on himself, beak lowering 
between his knees and wings spreading out on either side.

He loved his wife and had given up so much 
already for her. She had opened his eyes to so 
much of the world that he'd never imagined. What 
did he have left that could open her eyes?

His eyes wept.

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The children behaved well enough for the quartet 
of mothers to find clothes for each of them. 
Apart from the tail holes in the trousers, the 
only alterations that were needed were a few bits 
of thread hemming trouser cuffs for the rat, and 
a few more to tighten the tunic and trousers for 
both giraffes who were gangly and nearly four 
hands taller than the rest. They were then 
settled down to a boisterous story from Christina 
about a brother and sister who found a strange 
house made of bread in the woods but was guarded 
by a pair of two-headed dragon dogs that chased 
them around and around a large oak tree until 
they managed to trick the dragon dogs into 
chasing each other so they could return safely home.

All nine of the children listened with wide eyes 
and open mouths. Naomi and Thyla the wife of the 
headmaster of the baker's guild, a spotted lynx 
who always kept a red sash about her waist, 
gathered a parcel of little bread cakes, fruit, 
and some jerky for them to eat and hopefully nap. 
After the story all of them ate eagerly of the 
snacks and soon their eye lids grew heavy and 
they arranged blankets for them to sleep.

Christina eased each of them down in turn, 
smiling with real delight at the way their eyes 
closed one by one. The little donkey kicked one 
of his hooves in his sleep, while the two skunks 
draped themselves with their tails. After easing 
the ram down on a soft quilt, making sure his 
stubby horns didn't catch in anything, the bear 
stood and wiped her paws on her apron. “I think 
that should keep them for an hour. Belinda, 
Elaine, take the rest of these clothes back home. 
I think the three of us can manage them now.”

“Are you sure? We've never had animal children 
here before.” Belinda, a well-fed red fox, said 
with a suspicious glance at the nine.

“I'm sure they'll have some surprises for us,” 
Christina smiled and grappled her friend in a 
warm hug. “But I have six of my own. We'll 
manage. And do tell my husband I should be there 
when the tavern readies dinner. He always worries so.”

Belinda wagged her tail. “We'll let Lester know.” 
She glanced at the napping children with their 
tails, snouts, hooves and paws and her muzzle 
creased in a soft smile. “I wish my children had 
been born this way. They're so adorable!”

“They're really adults,” Naomi pointed out, 
though her own heart melted a little looking at 
them. “We'll take good care of them until they're 
adults again. Thank you both for your help.”

The two mothers gathered up the unused clothes 
and departed while Christina and Thyla organized 
the last of the bread, fruit and jerky for a 
second snack should any of the children wake. The 
bear then rested her bulk on one of the benches 
and smiled, a deep rumble of satisfaction rising 
from her chest. “Now do you have anything worth drinking here, Naomi?”

“I can fetch us some tea if that is what you are asking.”

Thyla laughed and flicked her ears from side to 
side. “And spare her more of her husband's grog? 
How could you suggest such a thing!”

“Tea sounds lovely,” Christina replied with a 
wide-snout smile. She let one warm brown eye 
slide toward the lynx. “And where do you think 
your husband will be tonight, hmm?”

Thyla rolled her green eyes and shook her head. 
Naomi chortled under her breath and turned toward 
one of the pantries to fetch some tea when she 
noticed that two of the blankets were empty. She 
scanned the others and tightened her fingers into 
her palms. “Where are Charles and Rickkter? The rat and raccoon are gone!”

Both Thyla and Christina were on their paws, eyes 
scanning and ears listening, but neither saw nor 
heard the two. “Could they have slipped out the door?” Thyla asked.

“No, I saw them all a moment ago. They have to be 
in here somewhere.” Christina bent over, one paw 
braced on the table, and peered beneath it. “Oh 
Charles! Oh Rickkter! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Naomi kept watch over the other seven to keep 
them from popping up to see what was going on. 
Thyla and Christina moved between the tables 
bobbing their heads up and down, sniffing and 
calling to the rat and raccoon. The male skunk 
stirred from his nap to peer with his only eye 
beneath the tables, but a glare from Naomi made 
him duck his snout beneath his tail again.

A clatter from the rear of the room made both 
bear and lynx spring up and stomp the length of 
the hall. The closet in which their gear was 
stored opened and everything fell to the ground 
while a little voice squeaked in delight. Thyla 
was on them in a moment but a pair of paws scampered off beneath the tables.

Christina saw the two of them holding empty 
scabbards as if they were swords. They popped up 
between one of the tables and smacked at each 
other a few times before Thyla managed to turn 
herself around and tried to grab at the them 
both. The rat and raccoon scrambled beneath the 
next table, little paws and tails flicking just out of reach.

The bear tried to get around to corner them, 
stomping her paws the whole way. “Charles! 
Rickkter! Now you come out of there and behave yourselves this instant!”

The little rapscallions managed to trade a few 
more blows before they finally had nowhere else 
to turn and were forcibly stood on top of one of 
the tables between both bear and lynx. Scowling 
snouts reproved them and they looked down, 
shifting their feet back and forth. Christina 
glowered at the raccoon and crossed her arms. 
“Now just what were you planning to do with those?”

“This!” He said, and smacked the rat on top of 
the head with the end of the scabbard. The rat 
squeaked and promptly retaliated in kind.

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

Charles Matthias