[Mkguild] Casting Off (1/2)

[C. Matthias]

I finally finished another Metamor Keep 
story.  Thanks to Ryx for his help with this.

Part 1 of 2


Metamor Keep: Casting Off
by Charles Matthias

May 27, 708 CR

Three long days of journey brought them a few 
hours from the port city Menth. The moon, a 
sliver shy of full, was already limning the 
eastern sky, while the western glowed bronze with 
the setting sun. Two fires brightened the 
roadside, and an assortment of Keepers more than 
two-dozen in number shared their warmth after 
enjoying a hot meal. Three well-laden wagons and 
a noble's carriage flanked the fires, offering 
them some privacy in a land not touched by 
Metamor's Curses. An evening breeze brought hints of the sea.

Charles reclined against a stone, one hand 
holding the chewstick between his incisors, the 
other rubbing the soft flesh of his tail, while 
he stretched his toes near the fire. He watched 
his children scampering and tumbling about in the 
grass while his wife Kimberly and the fox 
Misanthe looked on, intervening when their play 
brought them too close to the fire. Mercifully, 
due to their young age, they had managed to sleep 
part of the journey each day; but it left them 
full of boundless energy when they awoke and kept 
most of the retinue busy trying to protect them. 
More often than not they had bounced from one 
side of the wagon to the other or capered along 
the verge of the trail; even letting them ride 
with the knights or upon Pharcellus only offered 
a moment's respite before they wished to scamper 
again. Erick seemed to be the most curious and 
adventurous, darting from discovery to discovery 
when he was not chivying their escorts for 
stories of battle or lessons in sword. Luckily 
many of the horses were intelligent residents of 
Metamor and did not startle when rats leaped onto 
their backs or darted beneath them; their calm 
demeanor kept the normal horses from spooking.

Charles hoped there would be room aplenty for 
little scampering rats when they took to sea.

Malger entertained the company with a spirited 
tune on his flute. Egland and Intoran accompanied 
the marten on cookpots, wringing melodic tamber 
from the cast iron by deft strikes with the 
pommels of their knives. Larssen the giraffe and 
the human Maud danced to the music, Larssen 
taking care not to step on his wife's delicate 
feet with his hooves. The youth Van and the ram 
Dallar clapped in time. Versyd and the other 
horses shouted encouragement between needling 
each other to join the dance. The gull Quoddy 
watched them from his perch atop Malger's wagon 
and tapped a webbed foot in time to the beat.

Sir Saulius and the bison Hesgebaern were busy 
inspecting the real horses, though their heads 
turned from time to time to listen. So too it was 
with the other rats who checked over their wagons 
with as much care as a mother inspecting her 
children for bumps, bruises and bites. And far 
overhead Jessica and Weyden circled, swooped, and 
soared, both to keep watch and to stretch their wings.

Only the two dragons, Garigan, and Jerome relaxed 
with Charles. Garigan stretched in the grass, 
eyes searching the sky; his toes twitched with 
the rhythm but nothing more. Pharcellus – who had 
taken a human guise once they left the Valley – 
perused the set of maps Kayla had procured for 
them while surreptitiously keeping an eye on his 
younger brother. Lindsey and Jerome lay next to 
one another as the young dragon combed his claws through the wolf's black fur.

Animals most of them appeared, and yet it seemed 
wrong to look at the wolf and know it was his 
friend. Jerome startled them all when he rose on 
four paws in the morning looking no different 
than a wild beast. But Lindsey assured them it 
helped Jerome stay himself if he 'let the wolf 
out' from time to time; none of them objected 
further but they had all kept a respectful distance from his wagon.

Charles sighed as he gnawed.

“What are you thinking about?” Lindsey asked.

“Tomorrow we enter Menth. Tomorrow we enter a 
world beyond the Curses. We did so in secret 
before; at least for most of our journey. This 
time we do so openly. All the world will see 
beasts who walk as men. My children will be seen 
as vermin. They've never been treated as vermin 
before, Lindsey. They've been loved; never hated. 
Will they remember the look of disgust they will 
receive because they are rats? I remember the 
looks we received in Breckaris and in Sutthaivasse.”

Lindsey tilted his head to one side and offered 
him a draconic grin. “They are still young. They 
probably won't remember any of this except for 
the stories you tell.” He ran his claws between 
Jerome's ears and the wolf lifted his head from 
his forepaws. “But if any man dares threaten 
them, Pharcellus and I can eat them!”

Charles almost choked on wood splinters. “Eat 
them? You should not be using dragon humor, my friend!”

Lindsey laughed. “I doubt I could ever do such a 
thing! I may be a dragon but I am still a man 
too.” He twisted his long neck and nodded toward 
the red-haired young man. Pharcellus smiled over 
the top of the maps but said nothing.

Julian climbed off the nearest wagon and wiped 
his hands on his breeches. He drew up his tail 
and snagged the tip between his fingers. “We will 
draw eyes. Some will be curious; some will be 
afraid. But this is Menth. Many of the merchants 
here have been traveling to Metamor for years 
now. They are used to seeing people like us and 
they know we are not beasts. They are just not used to seeing us in Menth.”

“In sooth. I shall try not to worry,” Charles 
added before gnawing on his stick again.

“I intend to make sure they do become used to 
seeing us here in Menth. After we leave you with 
your ship, we'll spend some time in the merchant 
district. I'm sure there are many things they 
want we from Metamor can provide!”

“And your wagons can carry.”

Julian's red eyes glimmered in the firelight. 
“We're going to need more wagons. I wish I could 
convince those horses to work for me. Ah well, there will be others.”

Charles laughed beneath his breath and relaxed. 
“There are plenty more still living in the Glen. 
And there are plenty from Bradanes who will need work.”

“We shall see.” Julian stretched and sat down 
next to him. He was about to lean against the 
rock when his eyes narrowed, staring at Charles's 
back. “You have a flower growing out of your tail.”

“Oh, it blossomed?” Charles set his chewstick in 
the grass and reached both hands to feel his tail 
root. The little vine, a few days ago no more 
than a tendril, had grown its first bud while he 
slept. Now he could feel delicate petals; he 
could not see them but he knew they would be 
purple like the vine clinging to his stable walls 
at the Glen. “I thought it would wait for the morning.”

“Why do you have a flower growing out of your tail?”

“It was a gift from the Wind Children. It saved 
our lives last year when a strange plant in the 
Marzac swamps attacked us.” He laughed at 
Julian's incredulous expression. “I have no idea 
who the Wind Children are, but we met them while 
journeying through Åelfwood. I was stone still 
and they planted a vine in my granite flesh. It 
grew into the massive vine you've seen I keep in 
my stables. Somehow it can slip in and out of my 
flesh without hurting me, and before we left it gave me a seed.”

“A seed?”

“A seed I planted within my flesh, and as you can see, it too is growing.”

Lindsey chuffed as he stroked the wolf's ears; 
Jerome panted as he leaned into the dragon's 
claws. “He's telling the truth. I remember the 
Wind Children. They shaped leaves and flower 
petals to appear as our faces before giving 
Charles his vine. Even the Åelves were surprised. 
Even Zhy...” Lindsey lowered his snout and 
thumped the end of his tail. “Even Zhypar was surprised.”

Charles leaned over to pat the dragon on his 
side. He glanced down at Jerome and felt his 
heart tighten. Sitting back up he forced a smile 
to his whiskers and put his hand against the 
rock. “And, like I said, I was rock at the time.” 
The pink flesh of his hand hardened and grayed 
before disappearing within the stone. Julian 
gasped and scooted away on his tail.

“I...” Julian stared for a moment before shaking 
his head. “Are there any more secrets you wish to share?”

“Nae,” Charles withdrew his hand and returned it 
to flesh. “Nae, there is nothing more. It has 
been a very strange year.” He touched the scar 
around his right eye. “It has changed all of us. 
Jessica's feathers are black. I have this scar, 
can turn to stone and have a vine growing from my 
tail. Lindsey is a dragon! And Jerome...” He 
sighed. The wolf lifted its head, golden eyes 
peering at the rat, waiting. “Jerome, my friend, needs our help. And so we go.”

“You forgot to mention one change,” Julian noted 
with a smile returning to his whiskers. “We have 
left the cellars behind. Forever.”

He gripped Julian on the shoulder and leaned 
forward until their snouts touched. “Few things 
have made me happier, Julian. Thank you.”

His fellow rat returned the grip. “Thank you, 
Charles. Now go. Dance with your wife. Don't 
waste such good music with moping.”

Charles gave him a firm hug. There was nothing 
more to say. He went and danced with his wife for a song or three.

----------

Malger searched the dreams. He did so at leisure, 
his pace and manner laconic. During the day the 
travelers acted as if they were out for nothing 
more than a pleasurable stroll to the next 
village. At night the tensions and worries were 
loosed and given shape. He witnessed brigands 
striking them down with swords, mighty waves 
swallowing the ship whole, slavers leading the 
children away in chains, and even an apprentice 
to Sideshow capturing them in cages for his 
terrifying menagerie. Malger would not add his own anxiety to the dreamers.

Instead, patient and slow, he offered a bit of 
joyful song or a whisper of encouragement into 
each unsettled dreamer. It was never enough to 
chase the nightmares away, but they were never as 
frightening again. And after each offering, 
Malger withdrew as quietly as he had come and continued his search.

He had only seen traces of the Matthias child 
each of the nights on their journey. Sometimes it 
was a flash of ears and tail disappearing into 
mystic underbrush, other times it was little 
scampering tracks left in the path darting from 
dream to dream. He did not blame the child for 
running away; here in the dreams he was without 
mother or father to protect him. And while there 
was much he could say in the waking world to help 
the little rat, the true teaching must take place in the dreams.

Which meant little Charles would need to stop running and hiding from him.

Malger did not have long to wander among the 
dreams of his traveling companions before he 
found the tell-tale sign of the boy. Paw prints 
which sparkled with moon-glow dust trailed 
through a nook of stone and trees. He followed at 
a leisured pace, listening for dangers and 
threats but hearing none, and watched.

The paw-prints ended inside a little hole in a 
tree far larger than its neighbors. It reminded 
him of the mighty redwood the Matthias family 
lived in, though the shape was distorted with a 
profusion of twists, branches, and whorls. The 
hole appeared too small to squeeze through but as 
he neared it swelled in size. He crouched at the 
entrance, peering into the dream without entering the dreamer.

The dreamer was the other Matthias boy, Erick. He 
could see a fantastic world of forest where 
everything was exaggerated with knightly banners 
draped from tree branches and familiar animals 
capering about. Erick and his brother Charles 
were both wearing armor and battling each other 
with massive swords. They laughed as they swung 
and squeaked as they dodged each blow.

Malger chuffed in surprise. Little Charles had 
entered his brother’s dream to play with him.

He watched their play for a time and then 
reclined against one of the gnarled roots 
conjuring a happy tune from his flute. A small 
bitterness touched his heart; there had never 
been any simple play between him and his family. 
But this was one pain among many he had taken for 
himself over the years; he surrounded and 
cornered the hurt with grace notes, captured it 
with a trill, and scattered it from his heart 
with a boisterous arpeggio. He would let little Charles have his brother.

His thoughts strayed to the stone altar, the 
massive crow, the scarred rat, and the child 
between them. What little his goddess had 
explained to him still left him confused. It was 
a riddle within an enigma lost in an archipelago 
of mysteries. Would he ever understand? Would any 
of them? And what pain would there be in 
understanding? A sour note touched his flute with those thoughts.

Malger blinked and stared down between the roots 
to find a rat child staring back up at him, 
little paws curled around the tip of his tail. 
The boy gazed at him as if he'd been waiting 
there for hours. The marten sucked in his breath 
and let the flute fall from his muzzle. “Hello, Charles.”

Whiskers twitched and dark, protruding eyes 
blinked while over-sized ears flicked up and 
down. For a moment the child appeared more alley 
rat than knight's son. And then he spoke, his 
voice anxious and interjected with little squeaks 
Yet it penetrated the marten more deeply than the 
melody he had chased his childhood regret away 
with. “You not dream for yourself.”

He smiled. “Nay. You and I walk the dreams of 
others. I will teach you how. I will teach you 
how to help and protect the dreams of others, and 
how to protect yourself from them.” The boy only 
stared at him and rubbed his fingers over his tail tip. “Do you know who I am?”

“Daddy says you Archduke Sutt.”

“Very good. But as I am your teacher, you may 
call me 'Master Sutt'. Do you understand?”

The boy blinked and nodded. “Master Sutt. 
Bye-bye.” Before he could react, the little rat 
fell to all fours and scampered into the dream 
brush leaving only moon-glow paw-prints behind.

Malger chuffed and shook his head. It was a start.

----------

May 28, 708 CR


A half dozen wary guards watched the caravan once 
it emerged from the forest; the four at the gate 
exchanged anxious words, while the two manning 
the gatehouse parapet looked down with curiosity. 
For many minutes traveling Keepers and resident 
men merely eyed each other until the distance 
between them had closed to a few wagon lengths.

One of the guardsmen stepped forward and held up 
a hand. The three behind him rested hands on 
sword pommels while the tower guards knocked 
arrows to their bows but did not draw. “What... 
what brings beast men to Menth and so many?” The 
man demanded gruffly, narrowing his gaze to stare 
up at Malger, who had ridden forward from the 
train. “You... State your business!”

 From his lofty perch astride Versyd Malger 
offered the guards a reproving stare. “Beast 
men?” He scoffed with perfect aristocratic 
annoyance, glancing back at the wagons. “Do not 
caravans of Menth journey to Metamor and back? 
Does not your lord swear fealty to Duke Thomas of 
House Hassan? As a horse is he, too, a 'beast 
man'?” Egland and Intoran rode forward slowly to 
flank Malger. Charles and Saulius rode beside the 
first wagon with his family; four little rats 
peered over the side of the wagon, noses lifted 
to the pungent air of a port city for the first 
time. Jessica, Weyden, and the other soldiers 
stayed back along either side of the second 
wagon, their hands upon the plainly visible 
pommels of their weapons. Lindsey and Jerome hid 
in the final wagon beneath a stretched canvas. 
“Do we demand human men who come to Metamor's gates state their business?”

The mustached man in charge of the gatehouse 
gawped a couple of times before regaining his 
composure, realizing by dress and stature, even 
if he was some sort of furred creature, he was of 
a far higher station than a mere town guard. 
“Such caravans do journey to Metamor and we are 
loyal to the House Hassan. But all visitors must 
state their business in Menth; especially the rare visitor from Metamor.”

Malger snorted haughtily and let both hands rest 
upon the front of his saddle. “Sire,” He muttered flatly.

“Sire?” The guardsman blinked.

“Aye,” Malger snapped. “Do I look a passing 
churl? Now, I have hired a ship berthed here in 
Menth. My companions wish to do business of their 
own in your marketplace.” Leaning forward in the 
saddle Malger fixed the guard with a hard 
penetrating stare. “Unless you wish to deny us 
entry, which I am sure to tell his Lordship 
should I need to return to Metamor with my 
business unfulfilled, you will let us pass.”

The guard chuffed and cleared his throat, then 
stepped aside. “We are not accustomed to Keepers 
here,” he explained with a slight bow. “Even 
here, where the cursed of Metamor are known, you 
would do best not to wander freely.” The two 
guards on the tower lowered their bows while the 
four at the gate stepped aside. Malger nodded his 
thanks even as Versyd trotted with regal air into 
the city. One by one the wagons followed. Little 
Baerle and Bernadette waved at the guards as they passed.

Charles smiled at his children and tried to keep 
his smile as he gazed about the city beyond the 
gates. Menth was a port town and trading center 
for the Northern Midlands. Wide streets allowed 
easy passage of commerce from both northern and 
eastern city gates to the marketplaces and the 
wharves. Already he could see the tall masts of 
sailing vessels over the top of the clustered row 
houses. His nose wrinkled from the scent of refuse even the sea could not hide.

The streets were filled with vendors selling 
fish, fruits and vegetables as well as garlands 
made from flowers, townsfolk buying them, and 
children playing. The presence of so many 
Keepers, particularly beast-cursed Keepers, was 
noticed the moment their wagons rolled through 
the gates. Charles could almost sense the ripple 
of news radiating through the town as a palpable 
force. It was the children who took the keenest 
note of the Keepers, pointing and gawking in 
surprise. Brave boys rushed up to get a closer 
look. Charles watched a pair daring each other to 
touch the tip of his tail dangling off Malicon's 
flanks; neither could work up the courage or 
shame the other enough to be so foolish.

Soon all eyes were upon them and the raucous 
noise of the streets died down to a susurrus of 
curiosity. Charles could hear their whispers if 
not their words. Their eyes were uncertain; some 
were afraid, others merely curious. A few even 
appeared excited as if they'd always hoped to see 
a beast-cursed Keeper one day, without having to 
risk the curse itself by visiting. Some took the 
hands of children and kept them from coming any 
closer, but most of the young boys were 
unattended so they continued to pace the beast 
men of the north and their train of wagons.

Charles's four little children waved and called 
out happy greetings to the other children and for 
a time their high-pitched voices were about the 
only ones heard upon the streets of Menth. He 
scoured the crowd looking for faces filled with 
disgust or hands reaching for vegetables to 
throw; of the latter he saw none, but scowls were 
easy to find. Despite their disgust at the sight 
of animal-shaped men, he was grateful to be a 
rat; the shape of his head made it easy for him 
to watch everyone along the road without turning.

A tense half-hour followed as they maneuvered 
three wagons and the Sutt carriage down the wide 
street toward the wharves. Guardsmen watched them 
and the people thronging the streets to catch a 
glimpse of them with one hand on their weapons. 
Some from the crowd followed after them, while 
others rushed to the streets ahead of them. 
Merchants grumbled curses as their booths were 
swamped by gawkers. Charles and the other knights 
did their best to appear imposing but not 
threatening. Malger rode with snout lifted high, 
noble elan undisturbed by the regard of the crowd.

Charles breathed a sigh of relief when the road 
turned onto a broad, flat esplanade overlooking 
the wharves. Official looking houses loomed over 
the street, each bearing a sign upon its lintel 
and many dangled pennants from foreign lands from 
their windows. At least two dozen ships of 
various sizes were moored, most of which were 
crawling with roustabouts heaving cargo and 
supplies. Soldiers wearing the sea-green livery 
of Menth patrolled the esplanade and stood guard 
at both ends. They permitted the Keepers passage 
but shooed away most of the gaggle of curious townsfolk.

Malger turned to beckon him forward and he nudged 
Malicon ahead until he was even with the marten. 
“Ah, Sir Matthias. Yonder is the Venture Swift.” 
He gestured four ships down the line. The kasshet 
hull was long with a wide-bottomed keel and 
almost two-dozen oarlocks per side. A single mast 
with rigging prepared dominated the center; a 
leaping dolphin decorated the prow. Dozens of 
men, sweaty from labor, moved supplies up the 
gangplank, checked the oars, tightened the rigging, and cleaned the deck.

“She looks seaworthy enough. Will there be enough room for everyone?”

“If we only carry supplies for the voyage,” 
Malger replied. “Captain Calenti knows to expect 
us today, and with our welcome this morning I 
expect he already knows we are here. You are free 
to see the Venture for yourself. I must find 
Calenti and ensure everything is satisfactory.”

Charles nodded and stroked one hand down his 
pony's neck. “Then I suppose it is time we said 
our last goodbyes and parted ways.”

Garigan, Kimberly, and Misanthe helped the four 
children out of the wagon, while Pharcellus 
lifted the canvas from the last wagon so Lindsey 
and Jerome could crawl out. Jerome was still a 
black wolf; he kept close to the wagons where he 
wouldn't be seen. Larssen and Dallar lifted their 
supplies from the second wagon and set them down 
on the stone esplanade. Charles watched them for a moment before dismounting.

“Erick,” he led Malicon by the reins around the 
first wagon to where his fellow rat knight 
watched. “Sir Saulius, I leave my steed in your care until I return.”

Saulius dismounted and took the offered reins. “I 
shalt care for thy steed as my own, Sir Matthias. 
May Eli speed thee and protect thee and thy family on thy way.”

They hugged, patted each other's backs, and 
parted. Nothing more needed to be said. Charles 
thanked each of his friends for their help on the 
journey to Menth and wished them an easy return 
home. They in turn wished him a safe journey as 
Saulius had. A few he embraced, but only a few. 
They had been saying farewell for almost a week; 
the actual parting was welcome.

Charles, Garigan, and Pharcellus carried their 
supplies down to the stone wharf next to the 
Venture while Malger disappeared to seek out the 
Captain. The pier was slick with sea foam; the 
waves sloshed against the stone and made the oars 
creak in the locks. Even next to the sea the 
sludge of the city made the air foul and he did 
his best not to breath in too deeply.

Lindsey and Jerome followed along behind the 
trio, both on all fours; they continued to the 
end of the pier and did their best to stay out of 
everyone's way. If anyone remarked upon the odd 
pair it was with no concern of the large black 
wolf for it strode alongside a dragon. A dragon! 
On the Menth docks! Gawkers clustered as close as 
the guards would allow, crowding nearby piers and 
the balconies of roofs of surrounding buildings 
to point and chatter like magpies spying a 
sparkling coin lying on a crowded street; alluring but unattainable.

After setting down the trunks and casks of 
clothing and what few personal items they dare 
bring on such a long voyage, Charles stretched 
and stared back to the esplanade at his friends. 
Saulius had hitched Malicon to the back of the 
wagons and Versyd was now on two hooves helping 
to rearrange what little was left between the 
wagons. Jessica, Weyden, and the rest of their 
patrol group apart from Larssen climbed aboard 
the wagons for the return trip. Versyd joined 
Hesgebaern on the carriage. One by one they 
turned the wagons around and started back north. 
Charles did not look away until they had 
disappeared behind the cog moored next to the Venture.

“Pharcellus!” A squawking voice called from above 
him. Charles lifted his head and saw three birds 
circled down from the mast before the midday sun 
blinded him. Shielding his eyes, he blinked the 
spots away as the sea birds landed on the wharf.

When he could see clearly again he recognized the 
black cormorant and puffin as Quoddy's brothers. 
The gull had flown ahead to find them and now 
their voices were filled with excitement and joy. 
It warmed his heart to hear it. Lubec stretched 
out his wings and cawed, “Pharcellus! Lindsey! 
Are you ready to see the sea we know and love?”

The dragon masquerading as a young red-haired man 
smiled and pumped his fist. “We are ready, my 
friends! We merely wait for yon Archduke's return 
with the Captain of this fine vessel. Are you ready?”

Machias bobbed his head. “We're going to do a 
little more fishing while you wait. Don't worry, we'll keep Venture in sight!”

Lubec folded his wings behind his back and craned 
his neck to the sky. “I think you'll like the 
fellow Calenti hired to help protect us all on 
the voyage. If he ever comes down...”

Pharcellus and Lindsey peered up. Charles and 
Garigan did too, both shielding their eyes. 
Jerome panted at the end of the dock, eyes lost 
to the sea. Far overhead a shape circled slowly. 
It was larger than a bird with an oblong shape. 
Charles frowned; he could make nothing else out; 
Malger had said he wanted to hire another flyer 
or two. Pharcellus seemed to know what it was as 
he clicked his tongue against his teeth. 
“Impressive fellow. I'm curious how he was hired 
given the warm reception the people of Menth offered us.”

Quoddy shrugged his wings and took a step toward 
the edge of the wharf. “You'll have to ask him 
when he decides to land. I think he's saving the 
story so he only has to tell us once.”

Pharcellus laughed and a moment later the three 
birds leaped into the sky to scour the waters for 
fish. Garigan lowered his eyes and blinked the 
spots away before saying, “I'm going to inspect 
the ship. Do... do Sondeckis ever get seasick?”

“Young ones do,” Charles admitted. “I would be very surprised if you do.”

Charles watched the ferret bound up the gangplank 
and disappear over the gunwale. He noted the 
oarlocks and pondered how many weeks he would 
spend rowing; he was physically fit and would do 
his share of the work no matter what anyone else 
said. After a moment he turned to the two dragons 
and his breath caught in his chest. Jerome had 
shifted into a crouch, his muzzle retracted an 
inch and his forehead swollen; there was no 
mistaking him for an ordinary wolf. Yet his 
golden eyes still peered across the waters 
lapping against the wharf, sea foam and city 
flotsam beating at the stones with each gentle 
wave. The rat wondered if his friend even knew he'd changed.

“Sir Matthias?”

Pharcellus's question snapped him from his 
distraction. “You may call me Charles when it is 
just us. No need to stand on title among friends. 
And I certainly would never lord a title over a dragon!”

The red-haired man laughed and shook his head. 
“We dragons delight in your titles. They are one 
of the threads binding your society and giving it 
shape. And yours is a title of honor, O Rat Knight!”

“If you insist then!” Charles offered him and 
Lindsey a smile. Lindsey kept close to Jerome, 
his vermilion-tipped gray scales bright where the 
sun struck them, but said nothing. “Have you 
decided how you will be traveling?”

Pharcellus smiled and patted him on the shoulder. 
“We will follow along on your journey; at least 
at first. It will be bad enough for the crew without us three on board.”

He nodded. “Of course. I know you can keep an eye 
on us with ease from the skies. And if we need to 
send you a message one of the birds will help.”

“They will. As you saw, Sir Matthias, they are as 
eager for this journey as we are!” The dragon's 
smile appeared to show fangs though his human 
disguise had none. “And your family?”

“My family will be fine.” He waved one hand 
toward them to reassure them. “I am here to 
protect them, as will be Garigan and our other 
friends. Besides, should any threat arise I 
daresay it will unlikely reach us before dragon 
fire convinces it to go elsewhere. And... a 
journey like this will be good for them all. If 
it does not bankrupt us. I wonder what deal Malger has arranged for us.”

“What of the deal?” asked a calm voice behind 
him. Charles turned in surprise; the sound of the 
ships groaning against the wharves had masked 
their approach. Malger approached with one arm 
draped over the shoulders of the slender red fox 
Misanthe; she had dressed in a simple servant's 
gown of gray and bore in her arms his youngest 
daughter Baerle. The young rat's cheeks were 
plump and dimpled with glee as her tiny fingers 
clutched at the claw the vixen used to tease her 
whiskers. Malger smiled at them with regal 
aplomb, his eldest boy clutched in the tall 
marten's other arm. Beside him walked Kimberly 
with his middle children clutched one in each 
arm; his second boy squirmed a little trying to 
see everything. “I believe it was a single merchant per soul per week at sea.”

“Ahh, there you are, and they! I was beginning to 
wonder...” His eyes lifted and he felt an anxious 
worry at the price. “I certainly hope the captain 
is not demanding a coin for each of the wee ones similarly?”

“Oh, indeed so.” Malger winked, casting an 
affectionate look down at the rat child held 
easily in the crook of one arm. “Because babes 
wail, or will be, once the Venture makes the 
water.” His gaze and then snout lifted back to 
the rat child's father, pausing a moment to study 
the hand-print scar surrounding the right eye. 
“But this is a price you needn't worry about, as 
I told you. You are my guests on this voyage, Sir 
Charles. You need know nothing more of the cost for it is not yours to bear.”

Charles held out his arms and took his eldest boy 
from the marten. Little Charles yawned and began 
to gnaw at the leather armor over his father's 
shoulder. “And I thank you again! When do we disembark?”

“Captain Calenti will be here shortly to oversee 
final preparations. With no cargo and the 
currents behind us we have only a light crew. But 
we will make quick time to Sutthaivasse 
regardless. For now, unless you have need of 
anything more in the city, we should board and secure all we have brought.”

Charles shook his head. “I am ready. Garigan is already aboard.”

Malger smiled and swept his now free arm up the gangplank. “Then shall we?”

----------

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

Charles Matthias
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