[Mkguild] Dance of the Betrothed (2/3)

[C. Matthias]

Part 2 of 3

Metamor Keep: Dance of the Betrothed

by Charles Matthias


Lenora always enjoyed visits to the Narrows. At 
Metamor, even among her father's merchant 
companions and their families, most of whom were 
rats as they, there was a sense they had to prove 
their worth as rats every day. Here in the 
Narrows rats were beautiful and respected. All 
the rats she knew in Metamor possessed an air of 
defense as they went about their daily tasks 
whether they be trading and bartering among the 
merchant class or wooing the nobility and wealthy 
aristocracy for position and status.

The Matthias family showed her nothing of the 
sort; they were open and eager to welcome her, 
complimenting her on her beauty without having to 
boast of being rats. To be a rat was not a banner 
to be raised as a weapon against those still 
human or those who'd become large beasts with 
claws and fangs suited to war. Being a rat was 
simply what they were; being a rat was loved for its own sake and nothing more.

Not to say Lenora did not love Metamor nor her 
friends there. She loved the city of her birth 
with its boundless variety, boisterous life, 
dress, food, and music, breathtaking 
architectural beauty, and even its burgeoning 
intrigue. Her earliest memories were dangling by 
her snout and claws from her father's counting 
table while he was arranging some deal; she had 
always begged him to let her move the stones and 
how she savored the look of pride in his eyes 
when she finally learned the art. When each deal 
was complete her father and the trader would 
shake hands and place the other on each others' 
shoulder; she'd squeaked in surprise and joy the 
first time a trader turned to her to do the same.

So when the time came for her and Erick to wed 
and live in the Narrows she knew she would miss 
it. But at least the company of the Matthias rats 
would be sweet salve for the pain.

The journey from Metamor had devoured their 
morning and if not for the basket of bread, 
cheese, and fruit she'd packed the night before 
she'd be famished. The streets of Metamor had 
been filled with merchants going hither and 
thither and then the road to Tarrelton was 
swamped with fur traders down from the north and 
soldiers patrolling the woods making progress 
slow and tedious. Her father and Master Gibson 
rode with her and they spent the hours talking of 
affairs of family and of fortune. Lenora 
listened, gnawed her chewstick when the need 
touched her, and offered a word or two when rat 
and frog fell silent. They greeted her thoughts 
with delight, her father smiling in approval and 
Gibson nodding his ponderous head, yellow eyes brimming at his friend's pride.

When they reached the Narrows both her father and 
Gibson left the carriage to ride the rest of the 
way, leaving Lenora to herself. She enjoyed 
another of her father's chewsticks and listened 
to the creak of wagon wheels, the heavy gait of 
horses, the muttering of the men driving them, 
and the faint sounds of the forest beyond her 
windows. She watched the trees and wondered what 
the woodland life was like. She smiled as she 
remembered the Baroness dressing her in some of 
Nat's clothing so she could learn to climb with 
Nat and her older sisters. She'd been so afraid 
of slipping her little claws dug in tight with 
every step; she'd had no idea how strong they were until then.

The reverie was cut short when they reached the 
gatehouse. Lenora listened to her father and the 
Baron greeting one another while she tidied her 
dress and the ribbons on her tail. Once satisfied 
she poked her snout of the window and squeaked 
her disapproval; the two wagons in front were 
blocking her view! Put out, she sat back down and crossed her arms.

Lenora only stood again once the caravan came to 
a second stop, now at the base of the inner wall 
leading into Matthias Keep. Their driver, a 
black-furred bear with lighter face, opened the 
door of her carriage, “We've arrived at the 
Narrows, Mistress. We have to walk the rest of the way to the Keep.”

“Very well.” She stepped from the wagon and 
smiled up to the bear; even with him on the 
ground and she on the carriage steps he was two 
heads taller. “Please bring the satchel with 
father's gifts, Clark. Baroness Kimberly will know to whom each goes.”

The bear nodded his head and offered her a warm 
smile. “My pleasure.” He had been in father's 
employ as driver and personal guard since she was 
a ratling and used to let her ride on his back in 
both man-like and beast shape. He was twice her 
size and would have done so still if she asked.

While Clark attended to their supplies in the 
rear of the carriage, Lenora cast her eyes across 
the low wall protecting the town and spotted the 
Matthias clan gathered to welcome them. Her eyes 
at first touched upon her friend Natalie, the one 
rat sister her age, and then slipped to the other 
hooded-black-over-white rat nearby. Her betrothed.

Erick Matthias was three years older than she, 
with a short, stout frame like his father's. He 
wore a brown tunic and green vest of decent if 
not fine quality, but nothing to decorate fur, 
ears, or tail. He did not even don shoes, his 
long toes splayed in the dirt like another hand. 
Competent if not seasoned as a warrior, he still 
had the bearing and poise mastered from years of 
training. He was a very handsome rat.

His dark eyes, almost lost in the black fur of 
his face, caught her gaze. For a moment his jaws 
opened in surprise; she even saw his tongue 
behind his incisors. Then he spun away, almost 
running up the hill behind their fathers, long tail bouncing behind him.

Lenora laughed to herself, whiskers lifting with 
her smile. Handsome and cute too.

----------

“It is not much, but at least there is one room 
in this cramped castle a woman can feel a lady.”

Lenora sat down on a corner of the satin chaise, 
tail draping over one end, and smiled to her 
hostess. “Thank you, Baroness. This is from 
Urseil's is it not? And do I smell Jardin perfume?”

The small parlor within Matthias Keep had two 
chaise lounges around a hearth, cabinets along 
either wall with mirrors and grooming kits, and 
adorned with vases with flowers, a service with a 
supply of wine, cheese, fruit, bread, and 
chocolate, and a few cushioned stools. The room 
and its furnishings were decorated in bright but 
soft colors and illuminated by a small fire and a 
score of witchlights hiding in a glass 
chandelier. After half-a-dozen years of use by 
the Matthias women the strongest scent was rat, 
but as this was so familiar and welcome to her 
she barely noticed; the flavor of fire, the 
luxury of chocolate, and the tantalizing bouquet 
of perfume were what her nose savored.

She had only sat down and already Lenora felt 
relaxed. Baroness Kimberly had brought a small 
sample of the aristocratic life from the great cities to the Narrows.

“Very good, Lenora!” Kimberly smiled as she 
stepped to the service and glanced at the morsels 
arrayed there. Her two eldest daughters, 
Bernadette and Baerle, were sitting upon the 
stools, while the two girls from her third 
litter, Mary and Theresa, were grooming their 
older sister's fur with little combs and tying 
ribbons around their ears and tails. “I bought it 
when we visited Metamor for the Summer Festival. 
So many of the perfumes they sell are too strong 
for rats, but Jardin's was so gentle I couldn't 
resist. And the satin is from Urseil; a gift from 
Kendrick three years ago we were finally able to 
use. How is he and Lydia? They have not visited 
the Narrows since; I hear they have a daughter now?”

Lenora nodded. “Last year. Eselbaeth is a 
pangolin too, just like her older brother. And 
Lydia is expecting again. The whole Urseil family 
has not stopped celebrating for months!”

Kimberly beamed at the news. “Wonderful. I will 
write them a congratulatory note. Charles wanted 
to invite them to the wedding, but he wanted to invite half of Metamor too.”

Bernadette's ears perked and her bright tan fur 
thrummed with her whiskers. Lenora turned to her 
and offered a warm, incisor-filled smile. “I am 
so happy for you, Bernadette. Godfrey is such a 
good man. You are going to be so beautiful at his 
side. Have you your dress?” In truth, Lenora did 
not know the groundhog; she had only seen him in 
passing on earlier visits to the Narrows and the 
Glen. He was a journeyman carpenter with some 
skill but even when he became a master it was 
unlikely he would have renown in Metamor.

Bernadette shook her head. “It is almost ready. 
It's going to be so beautiful, with lace flower 
cups down my back and tail and a crown of white 
roses in my ears. But oh, Lenora, you are looking quite lovely already.”

“And would you care for anything to eat?” 
Kimberly asked, her eyes noting her four 
daughters before returning to Lenora. “You must 
be famished after such a long journey.”

“I would care for something, thank you, Baroness. 
As long as there is some chocolate I'll eat anything else!”

“Oh yes, chocolate!” Bernadette agreed. Next to 
her Baerle nodded, though her enthusiasm was 
restrained to a whisker-dancing smile. The two 
younger sisters quivered but kept to their duties.

Kimberly prepared a small plate of morsels and a 
small glass of wine for Lenora before settling 
herself down on the other lounge. The purple 
stone medallion bounced atop her bodice while she 
straightened her sky-blue dress. “Mary, Theresa, 
be dears and bring your sisters and I something 
to eat as well. Then you may groom our guest until she is satisfied.”

“I do not...”

But the Baroness cut her off with a glance. “You 
have had a fatiguing journey, Lenora. They will 
only freshen you for the Narrows.”

Lenora picked up a small morsel of chocolate. The 
flavor was divine, and inside the nugget her 
incisors found a piece of walnut. She let the 
sweet, richness permeate her mouth. All the while 
she watched the younger sisters, both with dark 
brown fur like their father, ready plates for the 
elder sisters and their mother. “I hear Mary and 
Theresa will be going to Metamor soon. Duchess 
Sutt is taking them on with their brothers for a 
year and teaching them to serve house. Or so I heard.”

“Aye,” Kimberly replied with a fondness and a 
touch of regret in her eyes. “We will miss them 
here, as we do Peter and Timothy, but it is 
important all our children know how to keep a house for when they marry.”

Or, Lenora thought to herself, if they do not 
marry and need employ themselves as a servant to 
a wealthy house. As nobility they would never be 
common servants, but they might be stewards or 
mistresses of kitchens and the like. The Matthias 
house had almost no money and as a new house, few 
prospects for marriage. Their remaining children 
would all be forced into the life of soldiers, 
scholars, servants, or laborers if they did not 
show talent with magic like Natalie or a calling 
to religious life like Baerle. Perhaps only Erick 
– and his brother Charlie – would be able to truly lead a noble's life.

How she wished she could help.

“My father does have something for them, and for 
you both too. Clark carried it in the satchel 
there.” The bear, who waited patiently outside 
the parlor in an antechamber so small he could 
almost touch opposite walls and ceiling without 
stretching, had left the satchel beside 
Kimberly's lounge. The lady rat shifted about, 
bunching her dress beneath her legs and tail, and 
opened the satchel. She peered inside and poked 
about while Mary and Theresa brought trays and 
little glasses of wine to Bernadette and Baerle. 
They came up to Lenora, gave curtsies with eager 
smiles, before moving behind her. She felt little 
clawed fingers begin teasing at the veil behind 
her ears and the ribbons on her tail. They even 
undid the strings of her blouse and exposed her 
back. She chittered in pleasure as they ran soft brushes through her fur.

“Oh my sweet Eli, look what treasures Master 
Julian has brought for each of you,” Kimberly 
gasped as she sat back up. In one hand she held 
an emerald brooch cut in the shape of a heart and 
inlaid in a medallion of gold, and in the other a 
set of prayer beads; the chain holding the beads 
was gossamer thin weave of gold, and each bead a 
colorful stone of iolite, hematite, and 
chrysolite; the Pater Noster stones were tiger's 
eye. Each gift was worth more than the sum of all 
the gifts her father had ever given the Matthias children.

“I've never seen anything so beautiful!” 
Bernadette stammered and squeaked. She almost 
dropped the plate of cheese and chocolate as she 
stumbled toward her mother. Baerle was only a 
touch more composed than her sister, setting her 
plate on the stool before stealing across the 
room to run her fingers in awe down the length of 
the chain, claws touching each bead with wonder.

“A Queen's prayers. I am not... Oh so beautiful!”

Kimberly allowed Baerle to cradle the prayer 
beads in her hands before turning and securing 
the brooch about Bernadette's neck. The green 
heart settled above her breasts in her soft tan 
fur. “It's... like the heart of the forest. I 
love it! Oh, Lenora, your father is such a 
wonderful man. Do you see it? I... I cannot believe it!”

Lenora beamed, and picked up a piece of cheese 
between two claws. “Father had it commissioned 
the moment we heard of your betrothal. And the 
same with your prayer beads when we heard you 
were thinking of joining the nunnery. Have you decided?”

Baerle shook her head, eyes never leaving the 
beads which she pressed to her snout as if 
kissing them. “Mother Wilfrida asked me to spend 
this year discerning at home before I entered as 
a postulant. But...” She lifted her eyes and they 
met her mother's. There was a look of uncertainty 
between them; Kimberly did not wish to lose her 
daughter, and Baerle knew she would miss her 
bountiful and loving family. “But all I want to 
do is pray and be with our Lord Yahshua.”

Sadness touched Lenora's heart for a moment. 
Everywhere she went she saw daughters with their 
mothers and was witness to both the love they 
shared and the stormy battles they fought. She 
would never know them but for a cross of stone 
behind the nunnery where her father and she laid roses and kisses.

Perhaps, after the marriage, she would know a mother's love from Kimberly.

“And there is something in here for both of you,” 
Kimberly announced as she turned back to the 
satchel. “Mary, Theresa, once you are finished 
come and I'll help you put them on.”

“What are they?” Theresa squeaked, her claws 
pausing a moment as she worked a small sponge 
along the back of Lenora's tail. Lenora could 
smell the faint touch of vanilla in whatever soap 
they used to clean the road dust from her tail.

“Lace asters.” Kimberly lifted what appeared to 
be a purple flower with a yellow center from the 
satchel. “You will tie them about your ear for a 
lovely color.” Kimberly twirled the golden bands 
of lace between her fingers to show them. Mary 
and Theresa chittered their delight while Lenora 
smiled; she helped her father select them. Asters 
grew in abundance in the mountain hills above the 
Narrows and she'd helped Nat pick some on her last visit.

“So, Lenora, what news of Metamor do you bring?”

Lenora was happy to talk of the affairs of the 
merchant class and their families. She shared 
gossip about the Hassan daughters and some of 
Bryn, but with the Hassan family visiting the 
southern fiefs for the last month there was 
little new they had not already heard at the 
Festival. She mentioned as much as she knew about 
the Steward's family and the family of Kimberly's 
old friend Bernadette the mouse from her days serving in the Keep's Kitchens.

“Now I only heard this yesterday, so I do not 
know if it is true,” Lenora said after savoring 
the last of the chocolate. Mary and Theresa had 
finished cleaning her fur and tail and now sat 
with their mother having their gifts 
straightened; they each wore a single aster and 
on opposite ears so they seemed a mirror of one 
another. Kimberly's eyes lifted from her fingers tying the lace on Mary.

“Oh? What is it?”

“The rumor is about Miriam; she has laid another egg.”

A warm smile crossed Kimberly's face, one filled 
with joy and a touch of shock. “Truly? How 
wonderful for them both! I know they have long 
wanted another child. We will all pray this egg will give them one.”

“It is only rumor,” Lenora cautioned, but still 
she was glad the telling of it brought such joy 
to the Baroness. “But I'm sure you can ask when they arrive.”

Kimberly nodded and smiled to Bernadette who was 
stealing glances at the brooch in a mirror. “The 
Steward was one of the first who accepted our 
invitation. When will they and the Duke's family return to Metamor?”

“Tomorrow if the roads are good. The day after if 
they are delayed. Metamor is flush with merchants 
and travelers of all sorts.” Lenora was about to 
say more when she heard the familiar click of 
claws upon stone coming into the antechamber. All 
of their eyes turned to the doorway as a handsome 
black and white rat stopped beneath the transom.

Kimberly waved to her son with a chortle. “Oh, 
Erick, do come in. Your sisters, Lenora, and I 
are just enjoying a bit of repose. Are you here for Master Julian's gift?”

Erick smiled to his sisters and mother, then cast 
a timorous glance at Lenora. “Ah, aye, well... 
welcome to the Narrows, milady. I hope... trust... you had an easy journey.”

“It was long but pleasant. Thank you for coming to welcome us.”

“Oh, well, of course, I...” he stammered a moment 
before turning to his mother. “Master Julian's 
gifts, are they?” Behind his back Bernadette and 
Baerle giggled under their breaths.

Kimberly kept her smile even and nodded. “Lenora, 
do be a dear and show Erick which gift is his.”

Unhurried, Lenora strolled the few paces from one 
chaise to the other, before she stood next to her 
betrothed and bent down to look into the satchel. 
Father had packed it carefully to keep the 
various gifts safe, using little lined pockets 
and boxes where he could. Erick's was in the 
large velvet-lined box at the bottom. This she 
lifted out, even as she tried to observe him from 
the corner of her eye. But Erick stood too far behind her to glimpse.

“Oh, thank you, Lenora,” Erick said as he took the box.

“Let me help you open it.” Lenora lifted the lid, 
her fingers briefly touching his; the skin was 
rough from a life living in a tree, caring for 
horses, and handling a sword. He did not flinch.

Inside the box rested a silver-embroidered light 
blue silk hat with loops to secure it around both 
ears. A single shimmering blue and green peacock 
feather jutted out the back. Erick lifted it with 
a blink of amusement. “Well, this is... a traveler's cap for a gentleman?”

“And fashioned for a rat, sir,” Lenora said with 
a winsome smile. “My father says the feather is 
from Marquis Tournemire's tail.”

Erick laughed, turned the hat around in his hands 
a few more times, then tried to slip it on his 
head. Lenora gave the box to Kimberly and said, “Here, let me help.”

Her betrothed's whiskers flattened against his 
face, eyes widening. “Oh, well, I suppose.” His 
sisters giggled again. He shot them a glare.

Lenora stepped behind him, careful of his tail, 
and with nimble fingers secured the straps around 
his large ears. She studied a small nick in his 
left ear, and felt both amusement and uncertainty 
at the way his ears folded against the side of 
his head at her touch. Would he return from 
Vysehrad with much worse battle scars? Would he even return?

“There.” Lenora stepped back, her legs brushing 
against his tail. “I think it looks very handsome on you, Sir Erick.”

“Lenora's right. It suits you very well,” Kimberly agreed.

Erick's ears lifted, one hand raised to touch the 
side of the cap. “It does feel comfortable...”

“Oh just look, it's perfect for you!” Bernadette 
gestured toward the mirror in which a moment before she'd admired her brooch.

Erick turned and bent over, staring into the 
mirror. He turned his head from side to side, ran 
his fingers and claws along the side of the hat. 
His dark eyes brightened as he admired the hat, 
his whiskers trembled, and his cheeks twisted 
into a rodent grin. Lenora also smiled as her 
betrothed tried out different faces in the mirror 
to see which worked best with the traveler's cap. 
He would twitch his nose, show off his incisors, 
raise and lower his ears, droop or lift his 
whiskers, open his jaws in a wide smile, or shut 
them tight in a lordly scowl. It was perfect for 
her betrothed, just as she assured her father it would be.

“This is...” Erick said as he struck a 
contemplative pose, one hand stroking the 
underside of his jaw, “this is very handsome. I 
must thank Master Julian. I... I love it!”

Kimberly nodded, one finger idly tapping the 
purple gem at her bodice. “A handsome hat for a 
handsome rat. Now, Erick, you didn't come here 
just to find your gift from Master Julian did you?”

“Uh... oh... no, no, I didn't.” Erick 
straightened the fur on his cheeks out with a 
quick swipe of his fingers and claws and turned, 
eyes settling on Lenora. He drew himself up to 
his tallest, standing on the tips of his splayed 
toes, and puffed his chest out, affecting an 
aristocratic and dignified air. Lenora hid her 
amusement. “Milady Lenora, if you are not too 
fatigued from your journey, perhaps you would 
enjoy a tour of the Narrows.” After a brief pause 
he hastily added, “In my company.”

Now she smiled. “I would enjoy a tour very much. Thank you, Sir Erick.”

Erick's litter-mates giggled one more time.

----------

Erick escorted Lenora from the Keep with Clark 
trailing behind trying not to knock anything over 
in the cramped corridors. He murmured a few words 
about the castle his family lived in, but 
haltingly and with an apology or two about how 
she had already seen it all mixed in. Lenora 
smiled and nodded her head, eyes casting to 
everything he mentioned even if she had seen it 
before and offered words of approval or marvel as 
befit whatever feature her betrothed noted.

When they left the castle they turned to the 
northeastern corner which pointed toward the Glen 
– Clark rumbled his relief and stretched his arms 
and back a moment before resuming his pace a 
respectful but watchful dozen steps behind them. 
The grounds surrounding the castle were cramped 
with inn, livery, armory, smithy, and an 
assortment of other necessities for a Baron to 
protect his lands. The promontory on which the 
Baron had chosen to build his castle was so small 
everything was packed together; the inn, which 
James and his wife Baerle kept, had to serve both 
travelers and guests of the Matthias house. 
Beyond the first line of buildings the new 
village could be seen and smelt, and then a steep 
slope through the first set of bailey walls. At 
the bottom of the steep slope would be the 
stables and homes for the many laborers come to 
build the outer wall. Lenora had often thought 
Keeptowne was cramped with homes built on top of 
other homes in some quarters, but at least the 
roads were wide enough for carriages. In this 
village around the Matthias Keep the roads were 
wide enough to walk paw in paw and no more.

Erick paused when they reached the northeastern 
corner of the castle and ran his hand along one 
of the stones and the long tendrils of green ivy 
climbing them. Purple flowers glistened even 
though the afternoon sun could not reach them. 
Her betrothed's anxiety departed him for a moment 
as his eyes fixed on the stone. Curious, Lenora 
stepped closer. “Is this your father's ivy?”

“Part of it,” Erick nodded. “Over the years he 
has planted new seeds in many places. This one he 
planted after we laid these stones. We all helped 
you see. These are the cornerstones. I... I 
placed this one myself.” His dark eyes glimmered, 
pink nose narrowed, whiskers stood straight out, 
and his ears lifted high against his hat; a rat's expression of pride.

Lenora stretched her hand out, spreading her 
fingers against the stone. Compared to many of 
the stone blocks in the castle it was not very 
large. But Erick must have been strong even as a 
young rat to have lifted such a stone. She smiled 
and offered a little squeak of delight. “All by 
yourself? You must have been very strong indeed! 
Thank you for showing me, Sir Erick. Did you help build all the castle?”

“Nay, not all of it. The masons did most of the 
work, but Father wanted us to be part of building 
our home so we all visited at least once a week 
to help put the freshly shaped stones in place. 
You should have seen Nat, Misha, and Meredith 
scampering over the stones and getting mortar all through their fur!”

She laughed and shook her head. “Nat's never told 
me! You must tell me all about it, Sir Erick!”

His ears stood taller every time she used his 
title. Erick was a young rat with doubts about 
his worth, but one proud of his accomplishments. 
He had earned the Sir and deserved to be proud of it. Lenora loved it.

“Oh, there's not much more to it. My Father could 
tell you a grand tale of it, and I can retell the 
ones he's told us time and time again, but I'm 
not very good at making up new ones.”

“In time you will,” Lenora assured him. “So what 
else of the Narrows do you wish to show me today, good knight?”

Erick let his hand fall from the wall and he 
glanced about, eyes casting over the tops of the 
nearest buildings at the clear sky. His nose and 
whiskers twitched for a moment before he 
half-turned and caught her with but one eye. “The 
village is like any other really... is there 
anything you want to see? I know you've seen most of it many times before.”

Lenora gently touched him on the arm. “Show me any place you love.”

A smile flickered across his cheeks. “Oh... then... do you mind riding?”

----------

She was not dressed for sitting astride a horse 
and so Erick lifted her into the saddle, both 
legs draped over the same side, and then pushed 
her tail over the other. Lenora remembered some 
of the human ladies griping about riding 
side-saddle, but with her long tail to balance 
her she found it comfortable as long as the road 
was not rough. Erick assured her the bay mare she 
sat upon had a very agreeable disposition and 
would follow his russet quarter-horse without even a tug of the reins.

Erick's manner was much more assured than in the 
parlor. Riding a horse was to her father 
something a well-to-do Keeper had to know how to 
do. For Erick it was a joy and a part of his 
being. There was no hesitation as he prepared the 
saddles and halters, and every twitch of his fur 
showed confidence and tenderness as he cajoled 
both horses from their stalls and worked his 
hands over their faces and hides. Lenora allowed 
herself to simply enjoy his strength and knew she 
would be safe in his care – her bear protector 
would follow them afoot but here in the Narrows she knew she did not need him.

Erick heaved himself into his saddle with only 
his grip and the stirrup. He curled his toes 
around the leather and pointed his snout out the 
door. “We won't go far, but... the best part 
about the Narrows is the wood and mountain hills. It's not the Glen, but...”

Lenora smiled. “Please show me, Sir Erick.”

He clicked his tongue against his incisors and 
with a gentle nudge, his quarter-horse clopped 
out of the stables. Her mare, as promised, 
followed along at an easy gait; Lenora shifted 
her arms with each step to keep her balance, and 
almost giggled at the way the horse's hide rubbed 
against her dangling tail. Clark lumbered behind 
them, for once not quite as tall as she was.

The ground between the stables and the outwall 
was hard-packed earth and stone with only a few 
patches of grass not yet trampled to death. Tents 
and little huts littered the grounds, home for 
the feuding stonemasons and engineers while the 
outwall was being built. Lenora wondered if any 
of them would chose to live at the Narrows when their work was done.

Erick led them around to the northwest, hugging 
the inner bailey wall as much as he could. Lenora 
could see the last remnants of the shallow 
depression the Narrows had been built in beyond 
the completed outwall, and the line of thick 
forest beyond. It all ended in the jagged 
mountains with their bare-peaks and gowns of pine 
and fir. The mountains she could see from 
Keeptowne all showed signs of harvesting, with 
swaths of forest cut down for lumber or mined for 
stone. The peaks framing the Narrows were wild 
and untouched, or so at least it seemed. She knew 
mot of the stones making up the outwall had come 
from those peaks, but the work was so careful it left no signs.

The inner bailey wall ran right into the mountain 
and a tower climbed the steep rock another thirty 
feet. A guardhouse was positioned along the wall 
and her nose detected the scent of more horses; 
her ears lifted and a moment later she heard one 
whinny from somewhere within the cluster of 
buildings abutting the rock. Erick led them past 
the building to a narrow track against the 
granite wall. She glanced up and saw roots and 
branches jutting out above the lip but nothing 
more. Her mare followed along the rock trail, 
hooves clopping so loud half the Narrows was sure to hear.

Erick dismounted as the track wound to the 
outwall tower. The door to the tower was open, 
but Erick ignored it. Curious, Lenora watched him 
as he placed his hand on a part of the masonry 
between the tower and the mountain face; unlike 
the outwall the rock was smooth as if the 
mountain itself had been chiseled away around it. 
She squeaked in alarm when, with a dull groan, 
the stone parted to reveal a dark path illumined 
but faintly by a soft silvery light.

Erick half-turned, smiling like a boy who's 
caught a fish, “My father built this; the 
witchlight is my mother's. It's one of our escape 
holes if the Narrows are ever overrun. Come, 
milady, it's safe. The horses have all been through before.”

He climbed back into the saddle and with another 
wave, guided her into the tunnel. The walls were 
rock and twisted to the left only a few paces in, 
cutting off all light from outside. She glanced 
behind and saw Clark enter, running a hand across 
the stone as he passed, careful not to prick it 
with his large claws. The clop of horse hooves 
echoed in their ears, and after a moment she 
heard the stone groan again; the door had closed behind them.

“This is remarkable,” she murmured. Her father 
had told her of secret tunnels deep beneath 
Metamor and after much begging showed her the 
first one he had found. They had walked through 
the passage whose walls, floor, and ceiling were 
the color and texture of black-pearl for an hour 
before turning back. She felt no fear in the 
tunnel – an advantage to being a rat – but after 
so long a time walking to see nothing new had 
been unpleasant. She suspected her father had 
taken her there and on such a long journey to 
ensure she never sought them out again without actual need.

This was the first true tunnel she had entered 
since. Unlike the black tunnel under Metamor 
where she felt nothing, this one gently 
comforted. The walls were the same gray granite 
like most rocks in the valley, but in the walls 
were little crystals which glimmered in the 
witchlight's moonglow. The air, which had at 
times felt stifling in Metamor's tunnel, felt 
fresh and smelled of pine needles and wild 
flowers. There was even a subtle warmth to the 
air. “How much magic is there in here? I'm warm and I smell flowers.”

Erick chittered and she could see him grin; the 
blue feather in his hat shimmered in the light. 
“My father asked the mountain and here we are. 
The witchlight is the only magic this place has. 
The doors only open for one of my father's blood, 
so we have no fear of invaders using it.”

She wondered if it would work for her once they 
were wed. But for once Erick was not awkward and 
she rather enjoyed it. No need to remind him now.

The cavern walls parted as Erick's horse neared 
them and opened onto a forest glade with 
sheltering trees along a grassy decline. Lenora 
smiled as she turned her head about, drinking in 
the scent of pine and maple. Erick brought his 
steed a dozen paces from the cleft in the rock 
and waited beneath a bough laden with pinecones; 
his eyes were fixed on the south. Lenora's mare 
followed and brought her to his side even as her 
eyes adjusted to the faint verdant light. Clark 
grunted in surprise when the rock pressed tight a moment after he stepped out.

“In the Winter when the leaves have fallen you 
can see the Narrows from here. If the wind blows 
just right you'll catch a glimpse.” Erick pointed 
at the trees lining the crest of a hill before 
them. Lenora nodded but could see nothing but 
broad maple leaves. He looked past her and at the 
bear who was checking his leggings. “Are you all 
right, good sir? The door didn't close on you did it?”

“No, Sir Erick,” Clark replied with a rumbling grunt. “I appear to be whole.”

Lenora favored her father's loyal guard with a 
warm smile. “Isn't it lovely here, Clark? There's so many trees!”

“The bear in me is quite happy here in the 
forest, milady. The man in me wouldn't mind a 
good tavern and a mug of ale. The bear in me would like 'em too!”

Lenora chittered her amusement, while Erick let 
out a boisterous laugh. “Ah, Clark, you are a 
good man! I'm sure we can find a mug your size.” 
He grinned wide enough to show his teeth and 
Lenora studied him even as she made it seem she 
was looking at the trees. He'd been so awkward in 
town and in the parlor. Here on his horse and in 
the woods he seemed perfectly at ease.

The woods were beautiful... but with no roads or 
castles in sight, Lenora felt a strange unease. 
 From her father's maps she knew the forest 
village of Glen Avery was somewhere to the north, 
the roads north to Hareford were off to the east, 
and to the west were impassable mountains. There 
was little fear of losing her way. But if she 
were to be separated, how long would it be before 
she found any of those places? What might find her instead?

Erick eased his horse onto a narrow track leading 
into a patchwork of shadow, warmth, and brush 
beneath the trees. “There's a clearing north of 
here where my sisters enjoy collecting wildflowers and berries. It's not far.”

Lenora nodded and gripped the saddle with one 
hand while her eyes scanned the large maple 
leaves overhead. The forest was quiet but for the 
grunting of horses and twittering of distant 
birds. If she strained she could hear the gentle 
tumbling of a stream. It was never so silent in 
Metamor even in the dead hours before dawn when most slumbered.

Her eyes returned to the rat before her. He 
turned his horse through the brush as if he no 
longer even needed ponder what the right path 
was; Lenora could see nothing to suggest one way 
was any better than another. Yet Erick saw them 
as clearly as she might know the twisting streets 
of Keeptowne. His buildings were trees, his 
streets were deer paths, and his neighbors the 
hidden beasts of the wood. The forest was his 
home and in its light she could see warrior, 
knight, and rat in his best light; how handsome 
he truly was! But would he think less of her 
because she was already lost and helpless to find 
her way back without him? Would he chafe when she 
preferred life within stone walls and yearned for 
every visit to her father in Metamor?

Lenora forced her drooping whiskers back out and 
smiled. Perhaps, with the passing of years, she 
would learn to love the forest even a little like 
her betrothed. Her father was shrewd and rarely 
misjudged a deal when it came to money or 
improving the lot of Metamor. When it came to 
Erick she would have to trust her father's 
judgment; he did want what was best for her; 
perhaps this rat truly should be her betrothed.

But...

Like Erick she said nothing as they rode on 
through the woods further and further from everything she knew and loved.

----------

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

Charles Matthias
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