[Mkguild] Bidding Farewell (2 of 4)

[C. Matthias]

Part 2 of 4

Metamor Keep: Bidding Farewell
by Charles Matthias


May 24, 708 CR

Even with an hour of practice to wear him out 
Charles did not sleep. He paced the halls of Long 
House for another hour before taking a hooded 
lantern and walking to the Keep's library. He did 
not see Fox Cutter, the librarian, and so 
meandered down the stacks. He pulled volumes off 
at random, flipped through the pages and stared 
at the words. A few times he stared for a minute 
before he realized the script was in a language he did not know.

He eventually found a book with maps of the known 
world and studied them for a time. He traced his 
claws along the coastlines of Sathmore and 
Pyralis; only a few months ago he'd sailed north 
along those coasts; he'd never expected to see 
them again, let alone so soon. Turning the pages 
he found drawings of Kitchlande and Sonngefilde. 
Ten years ago he'd left. Would he never again leave?

His steps carried him from the library. The 
lantern light swept before him into the gloom of 
the early hours. The Keep slept and all was 
silent; he did not even hear any wind outside. 
Exhaustion urged him to find a quiet corner and 
collapse, but he kept moving. He had nowhere in 
mind and for a long time nowhere is where he went.

It was still full night out when he found himself 
at the Cathedral doors. Candles were lit within 
and his steps drew him forward. He dipped his 
finger in the font at the doorway and made the 
sign of the Yew over his snout and chest, eyes 
lifting to Yahshua above the altar. Tranquility 
filled his face even as anguish consumed his 
flesh. Charles slid down to his knees and gazed.

And prayed. There were words but not many. A 
yearning trickled from his heart, threatening to 
become a flood. Something held the torrent back, 
but the rat did not know what. His gaze became 
distracted and he stared anywhere but the Yew for 
minutes at a time before he forced his eyes back 
upon the visage of his redeemer. He wanted to cry 
but there were no tears. Something beat at a door inside.

His eyes moved again, finding a depiction in 
glass of the Holy Mother Yanlin accepting the 
gift of her son. The face was typical of the 
northern clime of Metamor, soft with dark hair 
and white cheeks. There was no light behind the 
glass and not enough before it for him to make 
out any other colors. Yet a smile still touched 
his snout and the tension within him eased as he marveled at her.

His final moment Beyond the clouds had opened and 
through them she had smiled. Beauty, love, all 
goodness, radiated from her glance, transforming 
an instant to an eternity. The memory comforted 
the little rat on his knees, and he was able to 
lift his eyes to adore his savior hanging upon the Yew again.

His tongue moved at last, and in a whisper he 
prayed. “Lord Yahshua, I am afraid. I know you 
love me and your will for me is my salvation. I 
know I have received graces beyond measure. Thank 
you for each and every one. Thank you for my wife 
and children. Thank you for my friends. Thank you 
for this wonderful home. I am frightened I will 
never see it again. Help me to trust your will, 
Lord Yahshua, whatever it may be.”

He made the sign of the Yew again but found no 
more words to add to his prayer. The anguish in 
his heart still hurt, but more of an injury 
healing than an injury received. He knelt in 
quiet adoration, eyes tracing across the 
crucified image of Yahshua for many minutes.

His ears lifted at the sound of a door opening, 
and his head half-turned on instinct to see what 
it was. Not far from him, one of the doors to the 
residences for Father Hough and his seminarians 
opened. Another rodent poked its head out and 
cast a glance across the sanctuary. Their eyes 
met and the jerboa Questioner's whiskers twitched 
in apology. Charles made the sign of the Yew 
again, rose, and walked toward the priest. Seeing 
him approach, Father Felsah hopped out the door and eased it closed behind him.

The Questioner's black robes had been shortened 
considerably, and now gave his long feet enough 
room to hop without tangling. Small even compared 
to Charles, the jerboa offered a delicate playful 
appearance more likely to inspire other Keepers 
to pet his ears than to tremble in fear. Yet 
there was still something intimidating about him.

“Good morning, Father,” Charles said with a dip 
of his head and in a quiet voice. “I'm sorry if I disturbed your slumber.”

Felsah waved a paw. “I was not sleeping. I 
apologize for disturbing your prayers, Sir 
Matthias. Is there something I can help you with?”

Charles reached down to his side but he had no 
chewstick there to sate his nervous teeth. His 
claws dug into the empty space at his leg 
instead, while he stammered, “Well, I... I was 
hoping Father... um... Hough... um... could hear my confession.”

A small twitch at the edge of Felsah's whiskers 
bespoke a smile. “Father Hough is visiting Iron 
Mine this week and next. I can hear your 
confession, Sir Matthias. I have a great deal of 
experience hearing confessions of a... hem... supernatural nature.”

Charles blinked and stared at the jerboa whose 
head only came up to his shoulder if he stretched. “How... how did you know?”

Felsah lifted his ears and his dark eyes 
brightened. “We are both rodents, Sir Matthias. 
We have large ears for hearing many things. Mine 
are substantial.” Charles looked at them. Both 
were as long as his head from nose to neck and 
almost as wide. And then the rat stifled a 
chuckle; Felsah had told him a joke, one he'd used many a time before.

“Thank you, Father. I'm ready.”

“Then follow me.” Felsah hopped toward the 
confessionals in a bouncing gait. Charles cast 
one glance back at Yahshua before following.

----------

Kimberly woke to her husband returning from a 
nocturnal haunt and collapsing into bed. It was 
not the first time since the terrible night she'd 
been roused by a determined skunk and forced to 
fight for her husband's soul. She knew it would 
not be the last. So far she had said nothing to 
him; instead she clutched the purple stone 
tighter to her chest and loved him through it. 
With one last kiss she positioned it within her 
bodice so it could be close to her heart.

The children were all still asleep, so after 
attiring herself, Kimberly gently roused Baerle 
and told her what she wanted. The opossum was 
always ready to help tend the children and wasted 
no time in helping her friend. Kimberly would 
sorely miss having her along on the journey south.

After Baerle was ready, Kimberly checked on her 
husband. Charles was sprawled on his chest with 
only one leg under the quilt; his tail sticking 
straight up before bending over and dangling off 
the side. He cradled the feather pillow under his 
arm and his jaws were open in a slow grinding 
snore. Kimberly smiled and shook her head. She 
lifted his tail and slipped it down between his 
legs, and then pulled the quilt up over his back 
until it just touched the tip of his ears. She 
pressed the end of her snout to the top of his 
head in a kiss and then left him to get his sleep.

Even as she did, her ears lifted at the sound of 
a little voice squeaking. Her children were awake.


Kimberly and Baerle dressed the four little rats 
and then took them to the main hall of Long House 
to romp and play. The other Long children were 
also up and playing various games and though they 
were far too young for most of them, the Matthias 
sons and daughters tried to join them. Some of 
the other mothers joined them and showed them 
where they could relax in comfort on one of the 
balconies. Before long they were sipping hot tea, 
nibbling fresh biscuits, and sharing stories of 
raising children and looking after their husbands.

Most days at the Glen started in the same way. In 
the Summer they would often receive a visit from 
the hedgehog Mrs. Levins bearing a pie or three, 
as well as any one of the many young mothers 
eager to let the children play while their 
husbands were off on scouting duty. Sometimes 
Kimberly and Baerle would take the children to do 
the visiting. And even though she did not know 
the Long Scout mothers very well, it comforted her just the same.

At some point Madog appeared and started giving 
her children rides as he walked around. Little 
Charles and Erick demanded the metal fox go 
faster, Bernadette sat like a princess, and 
little Baerle had to be coaxed to stay on his 
back. Kimberly touched the polished purple stone, 
enigmatic gift of the mage Murikeer, through her 
clothes and knew her Charles would love to see them playing together.

Not long after, and after they finished a third 
round of biscuits and a second round of tea, one 
of the mothers, a short white-furred Terrier 
named Sylia, pointed toward the main hall and 
murmured. “It's the Steward! I've never seen him come to Long House before.”

Kimberly turned to see and felt a warm delight 
touch her heart. Garbed in his usual red robes 
strode the large green-scaled alligator who was 
Steward of the House Hassan. Thalberg looked 
around with his yellow eyes atop long blunt-nosed 
head, long tail almost dragging behind his 
laconic steps. “Oh, excuse me, I must go see him.”

She passed the rabbit Padraic on the stairs down 
who tried to stop her. “Milady, there's somebody...”

“I know!” She called back before hurrying down to 
the main hall. When she emerged she moved as 
swift as her feet would carry her without ruining 
her balance as the Steward had taught her. He saw 
her coming and took a few steps toward her before 
lowering his reptilian bulk to one knee. He still was a head taller.

“Milady Kimberly,” he said in his basso rumble. 
“I've come to wish you a safe journey. Is there 
anything I can do for you and your family to help you on your way?”

“Milord Steward,” she laughed, breathless, and 
almost startled. Until moving to Glen Avery the 
year before, she had spent her days working in 
the Keep's kitchens preparing meals for Duke 
Thomas and all his household. The hours were long 
and mistakes were not tolerated; Thalberg ruled 
the kitchens and he expected only the best from 
all. And while he had never been unkind, and 
often showed consideration for times when a loved 
one was ill, there had always been a hardness in him which kept them separate.

She'd seen there was a gentle pride in the 
alligator on her wedding day when he had acted in 
the stead her own father would have refused her, 
bringing her to the altar to give her to Charles. 
Now she saw it again, though this time it felt 
natural, as if his hard edges had already been 
worn smooth by something else. Even if the rat in 
her wanted her to flee from a monstrous face 
filled with fangs, the lady in her saw the 
nobility and chivalry in the man behind the yellow eyes.

“Thank you for coming, milord,” she said, smiling 
and lowering her eyes as she returned his 
greeting. “In truth I do not know if I need 
anything. Whatever seems best to you for my 
family's sake will be more than enough. I am just so glad you came to see us.”

“Then I will see to it you are well provisioned for your journey.”

Kimberly gasped. “But it will take us many months 
to reach Sondeshara! Surely you cannot spare so much!”

A laugh seemed to echo in Thalberg's yellow eyes. 
“Easily and more, milady.” He reassured her with 
a slight but warm smile which was all he could 
proffer without an undue display of numerous 
teeth. “Where Metamor has friends, you and your 
family have friends too. This much I can do.”

Kimberly marveled at him, at a loss for words. 
What words could express her gratitude? Instead 
she stepped forward and threw her arms about him, 
hands griping the ridges along his back even 
through his robes. Thalberg's heavy scaled arms 
gently held her. She could feel the underside of his jaw between her ears.

When they parted, she said, “You love her, don't you, milord?”

“Pardon?”

“Miriam. Your lady alligator. You love her.”

Thalberg stammered, the first time she ever 
recalled seeing the Steward of Metamor 
embarrassed. “Well, I... uh... I have been 
helping her... being an alligator... I...” And 
then he seemed to realize what he was doing and 
let out a rumbling laugh so deep his robes fell 
open at the front, exposing some of the broad 
yellow scales at the top of his chest. “I 
suppose. I care for her very much.” His eyes 
became reproving. “I suppose your friends in the kitchens have been gossiping?”

“Aye,” Kimberly admitted with a little laugh. 
“But I didn't need to hear it from them to know. 
I can see it in you, milord. I can see you love a 
woman; they just told me her name.”

For a moment it seemed Thalberg would object or 
take offense, but then his eyes brightened again 
and a chortle filled him. “Ah, Kimberly, you have 
been missed in the kitchens. I will pray the gods protect you on your journey.”

“And I will pray for you and Miriam.”

Thalberg lifted his eyes and his jaws opened in a 
reptilian grin. “Now, I do have a few minutes 
before I must return. I would very much like to 
see your delightful children again, if I have your permission.”

Kimberly couldn't help but imagine Thalberg 
tromping around as a full alligator with four 
rat's on his back. “Of course. Come with me, milord!”

----------

Everything was arranged, but there was still so much left to do!

Malger had not hesitated to agree to Duke 
Thomas's request. It necessitated little change 
in travel arrangements but the imposition was 
small and would perhaps allow matters to work 
more favorably. Even so, he spent the better part 
of the rest of the day seeing to the arrangements 
with his caravan master, the bison Hesgebaern. 
While Hesgebaern would not be accompanying them 
beyond the port in Menth, the bison was well 
acquainted with provisioning long voyages and 
offered advice on what to take and how much.

And Malger spent all of the next morning writing 
various messages to ensure those careful 
arrangements were kept. Hesgebaern had been sent 
to inspect the wagons Julian and the other rats 
provided – which Charles insisted on using – with 
Versyd in tow to help inspect the horses. Malger 
was fairly confidant he knew what Versyd would 
suggest and was open to the idea so long as it did not offend the rats.

The stallion would also remain behind while they 
journeyed, to continue his training in Metamor. 
It eased the already considerable number of 
Metamorans crowding onto one boat, and eased the 
stallion's rather pointed dislike of water travel 
in general. He had become a horse to keep the 
ground under his hooves, he explained, his 
distress barely hidden under his respectful tone, 
not to sway hither and thither on the water. 
Apparently, Malger discovered, the horse became 
horribly seasick even on relatively calm lake 
waters. The skunk mage Murikeer had also demurred 
respectfully stating his desire to establish 
himself in Metamor before charging off on another youthful adventure.

Thus it would be only Misanthe remaining at his 
side, and the trio of sea birds who he'd retained 
as messengers. And two of them would need to leave.

Malger, his work now done, offered the trio a 
satisfied smile. The Keep had provided him 
expansive lodgings suited to his station with 
windows looking across the Keep's towers at the 
Duke's residence. The furnishings were spare as 
if Kyia had known Malger would prefer to populate 
them on his own, but at least there had been a 
writing desk and cushioned chair suitable to his 
wiry frame. In this chair he turned, affixing the 
final seal and slipping the letter into a 
protected pouch one of the birds could wear on their chest.

“This letter must be delivered to Captain Calenti 
of the Dolphin's Leap. She's a Kasshet hull 
moored in Menth; you'll recognize her by the 
leaping dolphins on the prow and mainsail. I and 
our friends will be leaving by wagon and carriage 
tomorrow and should arrive in a week's time. But 
because there may be delays or other 
communication, I want two of you to go to Menth 
together, while the third remains here. This way, 
if Calenti needs to send me a message, he'll have 
one of you to send, and another to remain in case 
a message is missed. As to who stays and who 
goes, I leave it up to you. Choose, my friends, 
for this message must be delivered without delay!”

Perhaps a bit theatrical for a simple message but 
his performance pleased the brothers. All three 
were in their largest anthro forms at Malger's 
request; they had spent so much time among real 
birds they'd adopted their mannerisms. Having 
three pairs of webbed-footed beady eyed birds 
watching his every move made him wonder if they'd 
snatch a morsel of dropped bread from the floor 
should he dare. He had every intention of putting 
to full use their comfort in avian guise, a 
comfort he did not yet share. Malger had very 
seldom attempted to assume the minor form all 
animal cursed Metamoran's could grasp; he felt 
keenly vulnerable being so small. Nor had he 
sought the bulky quadrupedal 'taur forms he had 
seen others practice. He was comfortable in the 
bipedal form he had been given which was more than satisfactory for his needs.

It was bad enough Misanthe still ran around on 
all fours. What would people say if all of his servants were always animals!

Quoddy the gull and eldest, turned his beak back 
and forth between his brothers and said, “Shall we play Earth, Air, Water?”

Machias the puffin and youngest of the three 
almost danced on his webbed feet, his colorful 
beak cracked into what Malger had learned was the 
avian equivalent of a grin. “Sounds good to me! Winners go or winner stays?”

The middle brother, Lubec the black-feathered 
cormorant, shrugged his wings. “With three 
players it always easier if winner stays.”

“Winner stays it is then,” Quoddy nodded, and 
then he leaned his head forward and closed his 
eyes. His brothers framed him and did the same so 
their beaks were nearly touching. “One, two, and 
three!” Quoddy tilted his head back, beak 
pointing up. Machias and Lubec lowered theirs. 
They all opened their eyes, and Quoddy squawked. 
“Hmmm, I win! I guess I'm staying then.”

Malger laughed and waved one hand. “I have never 
heard of this game. What just happened?”

“Earth, Air, Water... it's something we came up 
with after our first year with the flocks,” Lubec 
said, turning his head form side to side as if 
working out a tight muscle. “Quoddy picked Air 
and we picked Water. We fly in the Air, feed in 
the Water, and sleep on the Earth. You cannot eat 
if you do not fly, so Air beats Water. You cannot 
fly if you do not sleep, so Earth beats Air. And 
you'll never wake up if you do not eat, so Water beats Earth.”

“And for Earth you just hold your beak out 
straight like this.” Machias leaned forward slightly to demonstrate.

“So do we need another round to determine who 
will carry the message?” Malger asked, lifting 
the pouch, an amused chuff escaping his throat.

“Machias can have it,” Lubec offered with a 
stretch of his wings. “I carried the last one so it's only fair.”

Machias and Lubec shared parting wing-hugs with 
their older brother and then both shrank down to 
normal bird size. Malger helped secure the pouch 
on the puffin's chest and then both puffin and 
cormorant jumped from the window into the air, 
wings spread and beating. A minute later they had 
climbed high enough to orient themselves and 
began flying away to the south. Quoddy watched 
them go until they were well out of sight. He 
turned at last and asked, “Is there anything you need of me, then, your grace?”

Malger swept his arm across his desk and then 
leaned back on the chair, propping his feet on an 
ottoman. “For now, we relax until Hesgebaern and 
Versyd return. And then we can attend the 
farewell gathering Sir Misha Brightleaf is 
hosting at Long House for Sir Matthias and 
family. I expect all of us to attend. And as human as we can be!”

A little fox's voice replied from beneath the chair. “Of course, Ma... Malger.”

Malger chuffed again and daydreamed how 
attractive Misanthe his vixen would look in the 
gown he had commissioned which he had yet to present to her.

----------

Charles woke a little before the noon meal so 
broke his fast with his family, his fellow Longs 
and their families. Misha had left to attend to 
some errands in the morning but the Longs assured 
Charles he would return in the afternoon. With 
nothing more to do he spent some time practicing 
with the other Longs and playing with his 
children. He dueled swords with his two sons 
using wooden practice staves, and then after 
letting himself be killed a few times, sat down 
with his little girls who were pretending to 
share tea and biscuits with their fabric dolls. A perfect afternoon.

He excused himself when Misha returned. The fox 
looked weary, with one ear lowered, and both eyes 
drooping, but he became alert when the rat 
neared. “Ah, you did finally wake up! Lady 
Kimberly told me you did not come to bed until nearly dawn.”

“I've not had an easy time sleeping of late, and 
thought of leaving Metamor only made it worse 
last night. I should sleep better tonight.”

“I know I asked last night, but I must ask 
again.” The fox put a hand on the rat's shoulder; 
Charles felt the slight prick of claws through fur. “Must you really go?”

“Aye, I must. If I have any hope of coming back here, I must go.”

“Then will you not take one of my sister's gems? 
They would allow us to communicate and make sure you are all right.”

“I thank you for the offer, Misha, but I know you 
only have a few of those stones. They are better 
used here at Metamor to keep the valley safe. We 
will have messengers if the need to send a 
message is dire. And there is nothing you could 
do to help us if our need were immediate. It is a 
four month journey by boat; not even a dragon 
could attempt the distance in less than a few 
weeks. No, Misha, keep them here where they do the most good.”

The fox sighed and shook his head. “I know you're 
right, Charles, but I don't like it. You've just 
returned and here you are leaving again.”

“Believe me I would rather stay. I was looking 
forward to a quiet Summer with my family. Now... 
now at least I'll have them with me, but it will 
be dangerous like nothing I faced before.”

Misha offered him a dubious look. “Hordes of hell creatures dangerous?”

Charles chortled and shook his head, thumping his 
tail once for emphasis. “Well, not that dangerous!”

“Heh. I know you mean more dangerous for your family.”

“My children especially. I cannot help but think 
of all the dangers waiting for them out there, 
and they unaware! You and everyone else laughs in 
delight to see them romp through Long House, but 
you have no idea the heroic efforts of Lady 
Kimberly and Baerle to keep them from hurting 
themselves and to teach them how to behave. And 
they have still bruises and cuts and any number 
of bonked heads or pinched tails. Bruises and 
cuts are part of childhood, but an inch more to 
the left or the right, and it could have been 
broken bone or stitch-worthy gash! I am more 
afraid watching them play than I am in battle!”

“I don't doubt it. Laura, Meredith, and the other 
Longs with children have all warned me of the 
same. I know I caused my own dear father and 
mother some exasperation. But on a ship there 
will not be many places for them to run, and 
there will be many others, including some of your 
friends there, who can help keep an eye on them.”

“And much they can learn. It is the right choice, 
but ah!” Charles glanced to where his children 
were playing with the other Long children – some 
game of tag he thought – and then back to his 
friend. “Misha, thank you for letting me fight by 
your side one last time before we must part. I 
dearly hope I will be able to do so again.”

Misha gripped his shoulder and his jowls drew 
back in a vicious grin. “And thank you for 
fighting by my side. We will do so again even if 
I have to fly to Sondeshara to do it!”

“You would be most welcome.” Charles put his hand 
on the fox's shoulder too. The two warriors 
regarded each other, grips tight, muscles tensed, 
eyes alight with an eager fire. Though it had 
only been two years they had known each other, 
each felt the other had his been his friend for 
two decades. For a moment, Charles regretted his 
refusal of the communication gem. “I have an 
idea; let us practice together and promise to do so again in a year.”

“Will you be back in a year?”

“We might be a month or two delayed if we do 
return,” Charles admitted. “But we'll have 
messenger birds with us to warn you of our 
coming. And if I am not allowed to leave 
Sondeshara for a much longer time, well, we still 
have messenger birds and dragons!”

Misha pondered for a moment before his only ear 
lifted and a determined grin crossed his snout. 
“It is agreed! Come, let us choose weapons for each other.”

“Eh?”

The grin became mischievous. “Well, we have to make it interesting, do we not?”

The rat laughed and stepped after his friend. “By 
all means. Choose for me and I shall choose for you, fox!”

----------

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

Charles Matthias
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