[Mkguild] Bearing the Wolf-Touched (4 of 4)

[C. Matthias]

Part 4 of 4.

Metamor Keep: Bearing the Wolf-Touched
by Charles Matthias

May 16, 708 CR


The excitement from the dragon's visit did not 
dwindle with Pharcellus's departure for Metamor. 
Rather it shifted from the lake to the Glen 
Commons so there would be more room for Lindsey 
to move about as he entertained the children and 
young at heart. After draping a blanket across 
his back to cover the spines he allowed the 
children to climb atop him two-by-two; he made a 
slithering circuit about the upper commons, 
jostling the children between his wings enough to 
make them squeal in delight but no more. To the 
amazement of all the parents, Lindsey seemed to 
have as much energy as their own children and 
kept the same frenetic pace well into the afternoon.

By early evening everyone was exhausted and while 
children fell asleep in their parents laps, Glen 
families clustered in a wide circle on the 
Commons to listen to the dragon tell a tale from 
distant Arabarb filled with heroic warriors freeing their home from a tyrant.

Garigan took a break from helping Charles ponder 
all the preparations necessary for their journey 
to Sondeshara to listen for a time to the young 
dragon who was once a woman of Arabarb and a man 
of Metamor. The gray-furred ferret had never 
known Lindsey as anything other than one of the 
timber crews and had never heard him tell a tale 
before. Either he'd possessed a hidden talent or 
dramatic embellishment was innate to dragons as 
not only were the children mesmerized by the 
cadence of words and the sinuous motion of head, 
neck, tail, and forelegs, but Garigan too felt 
spellbound, heart trembling in rage at the 
depredations of Calephas and cheering at the 
heroic efforts of Alfwig, Elizabaeg, Gerhard, and 
Jarl, as well as Keeper birds Quoddy, Lubec, and 
Machias, and of course Pharcellus his unknown 
older brother. Even the Lutin Yajgaj, who at 
first Garigan had thought to be an enemy, turned 
into a friend by the tale's end.

The men of the Glen cheered when the tale was 
over as well as the children who had not fallen 
asleep. Lindsey sat upon his haunches and bowed 
his front half, chin a mere claw's breath from 
the ground, purple-flecked golden eyes bright in 
the forest sun, and vermilion touched gray scales 
shimmering in the dancing light of the early 
evening's first lanterns. Garigan applauded him 
before trudging back to the Matthias home to 
avoid being swept up in another adventure.

There he found Charles, James, Gibson, and Baron 
Avery all seated and sharing mugs of cider 
long-grown cold. They spoke without hurry and 
after the boisterous applause, it felt a whisper 
tickling his ears without words. In one corner of 
the room he saw Jerome crouched on all fours with 
lupine haunches and human arms and face; his eyes 
were shut and the lines of Calm were etched upon his scarred countenance.

Garigan felt a swell of fury in his breast. This 
good man had been corrupted and there was nothing 
Charles could do for him. Garigan could feel the 
wounds and the change in his fellow Sondecki, and 
there seemed to him some inkling of what needed 
to be done, but no matter how he pondered it the 
answer did not come to him. So much of how to use 
the Sondeck, once he practiced Charles's 
training, revealed itself to him without effort. But not this.

On their way up the hillside from the lake, 
Charles had asked Lindsey a few questions about 
how much of a beast Jerome had become. The 
dragon's reply had been reserved so only those 
closest could hear: “He has good days and bad. He 
will eat, drink, and sleep as a man should for a 
few days, and then he will do the same as a wolf 
the next. He returns ashamed of the wolf and 
ashamed he tried to deny it. He is at his 
happiest when he is both. We hoped you could help him...”

Jerome had come into the Matthias home without 
complaint and even eaten some food as a man 
should. But of the cup of cider Charles offered, 
Jerome could not seem to use it right and ended 
up setting it on the wood floor and lapping it 
up. Even the memory of it felt a stab wound. 
Garigan would find no peace until he helped Jerome be a man again.

“Ah, Garigan, welcome back,” Baron Avery said, 
smiling over the top of his cup. The squirrel's 
dark eyes glimmered in the dance of witchlights. 
“Are the dragon's tales finished?”

“I think he is starting a new one. He's very 
good, I didn't expect I would listen so long.”

Charles turned and favored the ferret with a 
broad smile. “I'd wager he's taking lessons from 
Pharcellus. Now there's a dragon who makes me 
feel boring!” James brayed in laughter while the 
rest chuckled; all of them had enjoyed a 
breathless and long tale or three from the rat. “How are the children?”

“Kimberly and Baerle are keeping yours from 
climbing on Lindsey.” He let his gaze slip to the 
frog, “Bertram's sleeping in your wife's lap.” He 
then returned to his liege. “And your boys were 
having a contest to see who could stuff the most nuts into their cheeks.”

Baron Avery beamed and then laughed. “Look at us. 
We delight in the beastly things our children do 
and even pride ourselves on our tails and coats 
of fur, excepting you, Gibson, and yet we fear it 
in others and hatch grand schemes to rescue 
them.” He glanced at Jerome but the black-furred 
ears did not move and his face did not flicker. 
Garigan knew Jerome was deep in his Calm; he would not hear anything they said.

“It is different,” Charles pointed out, whiskers 
twitching with effort, even as he lowered a hand 
to stroke along his long, scaly tail. “Tails and 
fur for us are part of our flesh, but they do not 
strip away our souls. Touch them, aye, and we may 
carry them even beyond death if we so love them. 
But we still reason, even those of us who choose 
to live and work as the Curses wished to make us.”

Avery glanced at the half-wolf man and his 
expression soured. “I see what you mean. Still, 
Sir Matthias, you are a knight of the Glen. You 
have responsibilities here. You have sworn 
obligations which cannot be neglected. I could order you to remain here.”

The rat nodded and sipped his cider. Weariness 
filled his eyes and frame, but his voice remained 
strong. “Aye, and I would obey. My disobedience 
brought this fate to my friend and I would not 
compound it by further disobedience. But I beg 
this boon of you, milord. Jerome needs to go to 
Sondeshara, and I must return with him if I have 
any hope of fulfilling my obligations to you, to the Narrows, and to the Glen.”

“As you have explained,” Baron Avery nodded, 
running a claw along the rim of his cup. “But 
before I grant this boon, and I do wish to grant 
it, I need to know how you intend to see those 
obligations filled in your absence.”

“I've been pondering it from the very moment I 
laid eyes upon my friend.” The rat stopped, sat 
up a bit on the couch and turned back to Garigan 
who still stood a few paces inside the doorway. 
“Forgive me, Garigan, please join us. Would you care for some cider to drink?”

Gibson shifted a little closer to the Baron and 
Garigan settled down next to him, tail flicking 
to one side as he sat. “Thank you, Master, but 
no. Have you decided anything yet?”

“To answer both of your questions, some of what I 
hope to do depends on the answer Pharcellus 
brings. I am seeking the aid of Archduke Sutt. He 
has the financial means to transport my family 
and Jerome to Sondeshara and back again; I 
believe he will be interested in the voyage as it 
will provide him opportunities to strengthen his 
position in Sutthaivasse and Metamor. And there 
are other reasons I have asked him but they are for my wife and I alone.”

“And if he declines?” Avery pressed.

Charles shrugged and took a long sip of his 
cider. The cup empty he set it aside and slumped 
back into the feather cushions. “I do not know 
but we will find some way. There are others who I 
can beg favors from to help pay our way. And I 
will ask Lindsey and Pharcellus to accompany us 
so we will have the protection of two dragons; 
they alone should intimidate all but the most stalwart of enemies.”

James's ears lifted, surprise in his eyes. “I 
will go with you, Charles. You know you can rely 
on me to be at your side and help.”

Charles offered the donkey a fond smile. The 
rat's eyelids lowered though he struggled to keep 
them open. “Thank you, my friend, but I am sorry. 
I need you here to watch over the Narrows.” James 
flecked his lips, startled at the rejection, but 
before he could say anything, Charles turned to 
the squirrel noble and said, “Milord Avery, James 
is the one man in all of the Glen I trust to act 
as Steward for my fief in my absence. He has been 
there with me many times already and knows my 
hopes and plans for the land. You will find no 
better defender of my rights than he.”

Turning back to the donkey, Charles forced 
himself to stand and extended a hand toward his 
friend. “James, good and faithful friend, I offer 
to you the office of Steward over my house from 
this day and until you breathe your last. I 
entrust to you power over all my affairs in my 
absence and I grant you authority to act in my 
name. I ask his grace, Baron Brian Avery, and my 
friends Garigan and Gibson to witness.”

The donkey stared at him for several seconds, 
before glancing at Baron Avery, Gibson, and 
Garigan in turn; he met only encouragement in 
their beastly faces. The shock left his eyes and 
his lips slackened, ears drooping for a moment 
before lifting up to their full height. The 
donkey stood, clopped two paces to stand before 
his friend, and knelt, taking the offered hand in 
his own. “I accept the office of Steward to your 
house, Sir Matthias. I will serve your family all 
my life with honor. I will keep your lands until you return.”

“Rise my friend,” Charles said with a broad rat's 
smile and tugged on the donkey's hand until he 
did so. “You may have the office of Steward, but 
you are first and foremost my friend. I wish I 
could have you at my side on this journey, and 
you will be dearly missed until the day I set paw 
in this beautiful land again.”

“And we witness your office this day, James, 
Steward of the Narrows.” Lord Avery stood and 
placed a hand on the donkey's shoulder. “Congratulations on this honor.”

Gibson and Garigan stood to offer him their own 
congratulations. Garigan felt nothing but pride 
in the donkey who had won his master's earnest 
trust. James appeared a trifle embarrassed from 
the attention and after each had given him their 
support, they all found their seats again. James 
fidgeted a bit in his seat, ears folded down 
against his mane and eyes more focused on his 
snout than anything else. Charles almost fell 
into his seat, the sigh of exhaustion hidden 
beneath the chinking of chain mail he still bore.

Still, the rat managed to gesture with one arm 
between his friends and said, “James knows all of 
my plans for the Narrows, and Gibson has been of 
inestimable help in forming those plans. My Long 
Scout pay should be used to begin clearing some 
of the forest and building a road. Gibson, I 
recommend speaking with my fellow rat Julian of 
Metamor to transport supplies we need from the 
Keep. I fear it will be some years yet before we 
can make the land profitable, but I trust my 
friends will think of ways Garigan...”

He did not let his master finish, “I will be 
coming with you to Sondeshara, Master.”

Charles's eyes widened for a moment, but the 
weariness was stronger and brought them low 
again. A smile crept along the rat's snout, one 
of pride. “Aye, Garigan. You must come. You are 
Sondecki and there you will find what you need. 
Are you prepared to leave your home behind, 
possibly for the rest of your days?”

The question gave him pause and his eyes stole to 
Baron Avery. Guilt touched his heart as he met 
the squirrel's gaze. It took several seconds 
before he found the words he needed. “I hope to 
return; this is my home and I am ready to die to 
protect it. But if I must stay by your side in 
Sondeshara, I will do so without regret.” He only 
hoped the words were as true as he meant them to be.

And he could not help reflecting on them as 
Gibson and James told Baron Avery of the plans 
that Charles had made for the Narrows. The ferret 
let his eyes trail across the tree rings in the 
ceiling above them, and all the little touches 
that made this home the Matthias home in the 
woodlands of the Glen. He remembered a time when 
Glen Avery was like any other town of Metamor 
Valley with wooden homes, thatch roofs, and stone 
walls, with the trees used only for the scouts. 
Now the trees were their homes, whether high up 
in the branches, in the midst of their sinew as 
fashioned by magic, or in burrows beneath the roots.

He loved what had become of his home. Though he 
had regained some level of comfort in a city like 
Metamor, his heart yearned for the forest and the 
simpler life of the woodland village. He knew the 
names of all but the most recent arrivals from 
Bradanes or from southern fiefs and while there 
were some whose company he could not abide, they 
were all still Glenners and thus his kin.

Still, those who had lived dearest in his heart 
were all gone. His father and mother and all his 
siblings died in Nasoj's first attack when he was 
just ten years. With the many other orphans he 
spent the next few years growing, learning, and 
training to be a scout for the Glen. The girl he 
had a crush on, Shelley, became a boy even as he 
became a ferret when they both turned thirteen. 
In Nasoj's second attack, his best friend 
Shelley, the only one who'd ever been able to 
calm his temper, was slain before he could return to help.

Could he truly leave this home and never return?

He lifted his eyes and saw that his master had 
finally fallen asleep. How anyone could fall 
asleep while wearing chain mail he hoped never to 
know. Garigan did wonder why Charles seemed so 
exhausted as he'd never shown a proclivity for 
sleeping during the day, but his thoughts were 
interrupted by a loud whump outside so heavy it 
made the couch tremble beneath him. He, Gibson, 
and Baron Avery stood up to stare out the open 
door – he'd left it open as it was such a 
pleasant day – at a familiar gray-scaled dragon. 
A trio of sea birds landed next to him even as 
Pharcellus's shape blurred and shrank. They could 
all take on a feral shape and so the sight of a 
creature transforming was nothing new. But they 
had never seen the red-haired human guise 
Pharcellus had fashioned for himself. And as he 
shrank, the three birds swelled to a more human posture as if his mirror.

Together, they entered the Matthias home, the 
young man who was a dragon beaming with delight. 
“Pharcellus,” Baron Avery said, his voice 
cracking for a moment as he gathered his 
composure. “What news do you bring from Metamor?”

“Good news, noble squirrel!” Pharcellus offered 
with a sudden pirouette. “Yon archduke of the 
flamboyant gesture has agreed to charter a vessel 
for the great voyage to Sondeshara and back! It 
will be a vessel befitting his station and the 
gravity of the mission, or so he claims with verve a dragon can admire.”

“And he offered us jobs as messengers and 
lookouts during the voyage,” the gull proclaimed 
with delight before realizing they were strangers 
in the Matthias home. “Oh, do forgive me, but my 
name is Quoddy and these are my brothers...”

Charles jumped from the couch, eyes wide with 
fright as one hand grasped at his throat and the 
other reached for a sword no longer on his 
buckler – he'd removed it on returning home hours 
past. From his throat erupted a scream more 
rodent's squeak than human voice. “Shattered 
manacles! A pool of crystal! Coming! He's coming!”

And then just as suddenly he collapsed back onto 
the couch, clawing at his neck and whimpering. 
James, sitting next to him, was there first, with 
Garigan only a moment behind, each grasping the 
rat from either side. “Charles!” James snapped, 
throttling his shoulder with a firm shake. “Charles! Wake up!”

The rat's eyes blinked open again and he managed 
to still his hands. He took several deep breaths 
before finding his voice again. He did not smile, 
but there was gratitude in his dark eyes. “I am well. It was a dream.”

“A nightmare!” James exclaimed. “Manacles? A crystal pool?”

“More than a dream,” the rat admitted after 
another deep breath. Baron Avery and Gibson stood 
ready to offer help, while Pharcellus kept his 
place in the doorway. The three birds stayed 
close to the dragon looking at each other unsure 
what to do. “It was a memory and a vision.”

Charles pushed himself to his feet. Garigan and 
James helped him stand; neither left his side. 
The rat turned to face the corner of the room in 
which Jerome sat on his haunches. His face had 
distended into a lupine snout, though his arms 
remained mostly human. Golden eyes peered at the 
rat, ears lifted and tail straight behind him. 
The jaws parted and a growling whine came forth; 
Garigan wasn't sure how he knew, but Jerome, even 
through the beast, was worried about his brother Sondecki.

“I am sorry, my friend, but there is another who 
I must go to help first. He's coming soon. I must 
be in Metamor in five day's time if I am to help.”

“What are you talking about?” Baron Avery asked.

Charles turned his scarred, right eye toward the 
squirrel. “Something I learned before I woke that 
night... something I learned after being freed, 
milord. There are two I must help. Jerome is one. The second is coming soon.”

“But what of Archduke Malger? He has agreed to 
help us,” Garigan asked even as he felt a tremble 
stir his fur. There was no need for Charles to 
elaborate which night he spoke of from what he'd been freed.

“He has? 'Tis a relief to hear it. We've much 
still to plan and prepare before we join him at 
Metamor, but I must precede you for this other's 
sake. You are all my friends. I couldn't help him 
before. I'm the only one who might understand his 
anguish.” Charles waved his hands and settled 
back down on the couch. “No more questions, 
please. If you wish to know, stay and I will tell 
you of him, and how I nearly became as chained as he.”

The black cormorant hopped forward on his legs 
and in a timorous voice asked, “Do you mean, a 
slave to another's will, Sir Matthias?”

“Slave, plaything, and more. But I ask each of 
you who wish to hear this to swear never to speak 
of it again. If you do not wish to hear, then you 
should depart because if I do not speak it now I 
will not have the courage to help him.”

Garigan bent forward as only a ferret could and 
gripped the rat's shoulder. “We will never 
abandon you, Master. Never. And we will never break this vow to you.”

“Never,” James repeated with a firm nod.

Avery and Gibson both nodded. “To my death I 
shall carry it,” the squirrel tapped his fist to 
his chest, a grim smile revealing his incisors. 
All three birds chorused their assent with a similar gesture of wing to breast.

Pharcellus was the last, his smile one of 
sympathy yet eager like a boy for a promised 
treat. “This would not be the first tale I have 
sworn to never let pass my tongue. You have my word as well, O Knight Rat!”

Charles breathed a happy sigh and lifted his 
empty cup. “Then let us all share something more 
to drink and I will begin. Come my friends, 
listen and I will tell you of the Hound of Revonos!”

----------

This story directly precedes Hallan's recent 
story Homecoming in case you hadn't figured it 
out!  I hope the dear lion does not mind. :-)

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

Charles Matthias
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