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

[C. Matthias]

I apologize for the long delay in posting the 
final part to my story.  Just as I was getting it 
all done two weeks ago, my computer crashed on me 
and entered its final death throes.  My email no 
longer worked and I only had enough time to make 
sure I had all of my important data off the PC 
before it finally decided it wouldn't even boot 
up in Safe Mode anymore!  Thankfully I saved 
everything.  I'm currently working off my lap top 
and hope to have a new PC soon (I hate typing on 
a Laptop, the keys are too small and too close together).

Here's the final part of my story.  I hope everyone has a Blessed Easter!

Part 3 of 3

Metamor Keep: Dance of the Betrothed
by Charles Matthias


Erick hummed a tune as he led his betrothed and 
her protector along familiar forest trails to the 
clearing his sisters loved. It felt good to be 
out of the cramped keep and away from any teasing 
from Bertram or his sisters. Astride a horse in 
the woods, the scents of trees and little animals 
touching his nose and whiskers, a rat could feel at peace.

He glanced behind every so often to make sure 
Lenora and Clark were keeping pace. His betrothed 
rode with one hand gripping the saddle horn and 
the other pressed to her chest, head turned so 
both her eyes could watch him; those red eyes, 
the more they fixed on him, the larger they 
seemed. Erick never let his gaze linger on her, 
always shifting to the bear who followed the 
horses with trained silence before turning back to path ahead.

The clearing was not far from the Keep, but the 
trail twisted around the folds of earth at the 
base of the mountains so the ten minute ride 
seemed much longer and much further. Erick had 
traveled these woods with his father many times 
as a child, and after they moved to the Narrows 
had played and trained in them; he and his 
sisters knew the trees so well they even named 
some. As they rode past he whispered each name in 
greeting, offering the tree a smile and tip of his new hat.

The clearing was on a gradual slope up one of the 
smaller peaks framing the valley and had been 
formed when a large oak toppled in a brutal snow 
storm not long before Erick was born. The oak and 
snow knocked over other nearby trees, leaving a 
wide open space in which mountain grasses, 
flowers, and now blueberry bushes flourished. 
Little shoots of pine appeared every Spring but 
they always uprooted them to keep the clearing for themselves.

“Here we are,” Erick announced as they emerged 
from the wood. Warm sunlight bathed the field in 
radiant greens, blues, yellows, and pinks as 
wildflowers swayed in a light breeze off the 
mountain. Many of the bushes were laden with ripe 
berries, though most branches had already been 
cleared by his sisters in the last few weeks or 
by the local fauna. Erick slipped from his saddle 
and guided his horse to one of the bushes where 
he secured the reins. The horse happily cropped 
the grass and flowers while he stretched.

“Lovely isn't it, milady?” He asked as he gestured around the clearing.

Lenora rode her bay mare who clopped after his 
stallion and began grazing nearby. She looked 
around and a smile touched her face. “There are 
so many flowers, Sir Erick. I've never had blueberries from the bush before.”

“It's when they taste best!” He motioned for her 
to follow, then grimaced and walked toward her, 
feeling an idiot. “Here, let me help you down.” 
He reached up, gripped her middle and eased her 
down from the saddle. Her tail slid over the back 
of the saddle and thumped to the ground a moment 
after her feet had settled in the swaying grass. 
The hem of her dress brushed through the flower 
petals and little specks of color stained it.

Lenora yanked the hem of her dress out of the 
grass and Erick felt his heart sink. “Oh, I'm so sorry. I hadn't thought...”

But his betrothed shook her head. “It will clean 
well enough.” She let go of her dress and offered 
him an assuring smile. “Do you come here often, Sir Erick?”

“My sisters come here once or twice almost every 
week once Spring arrives. Bertram and I often 
come along when our duties allow us.” He gestured 
toward a bush still laden. “Come, milady, you must be hungry.”

Lenora followed while Clark tended to her horse 
and kept watch from a respectful distance. Erick 
was grateful for his presence as it meant none 
could accuse either of them of a clandestine 
indiscretion. Whether he liked his marriage bed 
or not he would go to it undefiled in both deed and word.

A dozen paces away was a small semi-circle of 
bushes; the side facing the woods had all been 
picked clean, but the inside of the curve facing 
the mountains was still lush. The bushes had 
grown almost as tall as the rats and so Erick 
didn't even need to bend over to test the 
berries. He squeezed one between his fingers and 
juice smeared his soft pink flesh and around his 
claws. “Excellent. They're perfect!” He pulled 
the berry free and plopped it on his tongue where 
he crunched it and let the juices soak through 
his maw. A trickle escaped his snout and he wiped 
it with the back of his hand before swallowing. “Here, why don't you try some?”

Lenora took an uncertain step toward him and her 
red eyes looked up and down the bush. She glanced 
once at his hands, already purplish-blue from his 
very first berry, and then down at her own still 
bright and clean. What was she worried about, it 
was just a little juice? A good scrubbing and it would come clean.

“You'll never have any if you don't pick them!” 
Erick chided her as he plucked another blueberry 
free and tossed it to the back of his tongue. He 
bounced it from molar to molar before chewing; 
this time he swallowed ere the juices could stain 
his chin. “It's not hard. Here, let me show you.”

“I didn't think to bring anything to clean 
ourselves, Sir Erick,” Lenora admitted with 
drooped whiskers. “Your hands are already a mess!”

“You should have seen the youngest after 
Bernadette and Baerle took them here last week to 
pick berries. I think they had more on them then 
in the baskets or in their tummies! Trust me, 
milady, we at the Narrows are used to cleaning rat fur!”

Her whiskers lifted and a chittering laugh 
escaped her throat. Her eyes brightened as Erick 
took one of her hands in his and guided it to a 
plump berry; he positioned her fingers at the 
base and he let go. “Now, just give it a little 
twist and you'll have picked your first blueberry, milady!”

Lenora did so and on her third try the berry came 
free. She cradled it, ginger and uncertain, 
before setting it between her incisors. Juice 
sprayed forward as she bit and Erick laughed. 
Lenora swallowed the rest and dabbed her snout 
with one of the leaves, shooting him a glare.

“You'll make an even worse mess if you bite it 
with your incisors! I'm sorry, milady, I should 
have warned you. How was the blueberry?”

“Delicious! I did not know they could be so sweet 
and tart!” Lenora eyed the many more berries 
thrust out from the bush and then turned her red 
eyes upon the knight. “Well, Sir Erick, are you 
going to select some for me? I know which to 
chose in the market square, but which do we pick here?”

“Any will be good this time of year. Just pick the biggest ones you see.”

Lenora's snout and whiskers seemed to twist into 
a displeased moue and Erick could only shake his 
head. She had fingers and claws; surely she could 
pick her own. He plucked a handful free, letting 
them jostle together between his fingers as he 
settled down on a small rock to watch her as he ate.

His betrothed took her time examining the berries 
before selecting another. She bent down a little, 
her tail lifting in a comely pose, as she worked 
her fingers underneath the berry. It took her a 
few twists to work the berry free; this time she 
plopped it in her mouth and ate; she licked her 
fingers and claws as clean as she could before starting her search for a third.

“If you hold them a little tighter you'll get them off easier.”

Lenora flicked her ears at his words but said 
nothing. He ate two more berries before she found 
another she wanted. Again she bent over and Erick 
caught himself admiring her lovely almost-white 
tail as it arched in the air. He could hear 
Bertram's croaking taunts already and grumbled to 
himself. Aye, she is lovely and pleasing to the 
eye! Now go soak your head you silly frog!

“Oops!” Lenora squeaked when her third blueberry 
popped free and right out of her hands. She hiked 
her dress higher as she went to her hands and 
knees to find it in the tall grass and wildflowers.

Erick was up from his rock and at her side in a 
moment. “Watch out and keep still! You could 
squash it with your knees if you move around.” 
She nodded and cast a quick glance at both knees 
but the fur was still white. He bent over beside 
her and together they pushed the grass aside 
until the slippery blueberry was found at the 
base of a small patch of yellow flowers. Erick 
lifted it and she leaned back on her knees and 
opened her mouth. He set it on her tongue, 
remembering the many times he and his sisters had done the same for each other.

“Thank you, Sir Erick,” she said as she stood and 
brushed at the grass stains adorning her dress; 
most came off. “Had I known we were going to pick 
blueberries I would have worn something more sensible!”

He grimaced and plopped another blueberry between 
his molars. He'd hoped she would love the 
clearing, but she was dressed for the castle, not 
the forest. “I apologize for the ruin I have 
brought to your dress, milady! Perhaps we should go back to the Keep.”

Lenora shook her head and offered him a smile. 
“It is just a dress. I'm sorry I made such a fuss 
over it. Teach me how to pick the blueberries and 
the flowers and I will try not to worry about 
this little thing.” She plucked at her dress and 
lifted both whiskers and ears in a broad rat 
smile. “You know, you do look better here in the 
woods, Sir Erick. You look more comfortable here 
than you ever did on your visits to Metamor.”

Erick felt a flush touch his ears. His heart 
thumped and he took a step back, stammering, 
“Well, I... I guess I... I grew up in Glen Avery; 
I was born and raised inside a tree. They're... 
home to me. Wood is... warmer than stone and I... 
I guess it's more friendly too. Stone is good I 
suppose.” He thought of his father and the scars 
of stone and his heart beat even faster. “And 
there is a lot of stone I love and cherish, 
but... I... oh I guess I just love the forest 
more. It's home. You understand, right?”

Lenora nodded and cast her eyes upward and than 
off into the woods; Erick could tell she was 
trying to see something not there. “Oh, aye, I 
do. I do.” She bent over and tried to pluck another blueberry.

“Here, let me help you.” As he stood by her side 
and showed her how, he could see Bertram croaking 
another salacious ballad. He wrinkled his nose 
and whiskers at the mere thought. Shut up, frog!

----------

By the time they returned to the Narrows Keep her 
dress was ruined by the grass and flowers and 
occasional spurts of blueberry juice, but it was 
a small price to pay to save Erick from further 
embarrassment. Her hands and the fur around her 
mouth were also marred by blue stains she could 
not seem to remove, but in this she was no worse 
off than Erick or even her protector Clark. The 
bear said nothing as was his way, but she knew 
he'd gorged himself with his own patch of blueberry bushes.

At least the blueberries had been delicious and 
the scent of flowers very pleasing. Despite the 
stains she had enjoyed herself as she ate and 
stole glances of her betrothed. To her even 
greater delight, she had caught him admiring her 
several times. Usually it was her tail, but when 
he thought she couldn't see he'd also admired her 
ears, face, and snout. At least he didn't seem 
bothered by her red eyes; far too many could not 
help but find them unsettling, even those who'd 
lived at Metamor their whole lives.

After stabling the horses Erick escorted her back 
to the keep where she excused herself to the 
chambers in the Inn the Matthias family always 
reserved for them. Her maid-servant, who had 
arranged all of her things in the three rooms 
she, her father, Clark, and their personal 
servants would share for the few weeks they would 
stay in the Narrows, removed the ruined gown and 
gave her an impromptu bath in freshly heated 
water. It took a bit of scrubbing but the 
blueberry stains did come out of her hands and 
fur and soon after she was dried and attired in a 
mahogany-brown gown with russet lace surplice to 
compliment her eyes and make the white of her fur 
even brighter than a fuller's bleach.

Dinner followed not long after and it was the 
first time since they'd arrived she saw her 
father. All of the Matthias children were excited 
to have their Uncle Julian there for a visit and 
her father had wisely made sure each of them had 
received their gift before dinner. He sat next to 
the Baron and Baroness. Gibson sat beside him and 
she next to Gibson so she could sit with 
Bernadette and Baerle and talk more freely during 
the meal. Erick and Bertram sat across from her 
and she tried not to listen in on the frog's playful needling of her betrothed.

As a night of welcome to guests, the Matthias 
family offered a sumptuous feast of roast mutton 
in a dark, spicy sauce once popular at court. 
This was preceded by courses of soup, fruit and 
vegetables, cheese, fish, and truncheons of bread 
and potato, followed by more cheese and fruit 
with dipping creams of various flavors, and 
finally cake and a bitter cup of coffee after all 
the wine. Lenora ate as much as she could after 
so many blueberries in the afternoon, and watched 
Erick as often as she could. Her betrothed filled 
his plate anew for each course and while he never 
quite managed to empty it, still ate more than 
three times what she could have managed even on 
an empty stomach. Was this the appetite of a 
warrior, or indulgence at a rare feast?

The dinner extended well into the evening; the 
youngest litter of Matthias children who were 
boisterous and noisy at the start were all cranky 
or nodding off by the end; the Baroness and the 
older daughters all helped carry the little ones 
off to bed. When they returned, her father 
expressed his own interest in retiring for the 
evening. The Baron was gracious and bid them a 
pleasant night sleep and many beautiful days in 
the Narrows ahead. Lenora offered Erick a parting 
smile before she followed her father from the great hall and out of the Keep.

Despite his professed fatigue, her father walked 
a spirited pace and both she and Clark had to 
rush to keep up. He whistled a tune with a 
familiar air of satisfaction and it made her 
heart rush. Discussions with the Baron must have 
gone very well indeed if her father were in such a good mood.

He did not slacken his pace until they entered 
the nearby Inn and even then it was mere courtesy 
to avoid running into the many folk preparing for 
the numerous guests they would receive in the 
weeks ahead. When they reached their rooms, her 
father first turned to Clark and said, “You did 
well today running all about the Narrows after my 
future son-in-law. Get your sleep, my friend, I 
do not think we need fear assassins this night!”

“I will be all the more ready tomorrow, Master 
Julian,” Clark assured them in his basso rumble. 
The bear inclined his head respectfully toward 
her father, and then patted her on the head 
between her ears. Lenora chittered in 
appreciation and then wondered; would she be able 
to keep her protector after she married?

After Clark left to the room fronting their own, 
Julian turned toward their personal servants. His 
was a gray-muzzled mouse who'd come to Metamor 
many years ago in search of healing. Hers was a 
cursed-born shrew who'd lost her parents during 
the last attack against the Keep and whom her 
father gave a home after Lenora was born. 
“Willem, Hallie, you've both done well this day. 
The rooms are just as I like them! Prepare 
comfortable clothes for us tomorrow and then you 
may enjoy the rest of the evening as you see fit. 
Lenora and I will prepare ourselves for bed this 
night and we'll leave our garments in your room to tend in the morning.”

“It is our pleasure, Master Julian. You and 
milady enjoy a pleasant night's sleep,” Willem 
offered with a chitter and pleased twitch of whisker and ear.

Hallie smiled and gave Lenora a quick hug, “You 
must tell me all about your day in the woods with 
the dashing young knight tomorrow, milady!”

Lenora chittered a laugh and hugged the shrew in 
return. “Oh, I will, I will. Goodnight, Hallie.”

After both servants left, her father stretched 
and sat down on his bed. Their room was at a 
corner, with windows in two walls to keep the air 
fresh. There were two beds opposite the windows 
with modest frames but comfortably stuffed with 
thick curtains to keep them warm in the cold 
mountain air. A wardrobe occupied the corner 
between the windows, while a writing desk and a 
service filled the remainder of the room, 
offering a token of comfort for the well-to-do 
traveler. The door next to her father's bed led 
to the other two rooms they had, those for their 
servants and their supplies. The door next to 
Lenora's bed was locked and led to a secret 
staircase down to a hidden exit if ever they needed to flee the Inn.

“Ah, I know Lenora... I know. You wish to hear of 
the negotiations! Ah, I am blessed to have you as 
my daughter. Come, sit beside me; we may have 
eaten but my incisors could stand a chew.”

She sat next to him and smiled. “Mine as well. 
Are things here as difficult as we heard?”

Her father took two short sticks from his pouch 
and handed her one. They were flavored with a 
touch of honey and peach juice, and made a sweet 
chore. They both soothed their incisors for a 
full minute before he lowered his and gave a deep 
sigh. “If not more difficult, but Charles will 
come to my way of thinking in a few days. The men 
we arranged to supplant his crews will be here in 
a week if all goes well. Charles has already made 
generous offers to both stone masons and the 
engineers yet they still refuse to work. Let us 
see how fears of starvation suit them. They break 
guild practice to demand so much and must be 
taught a lesson. Charles is a good man and dear 
friend, and he can build a beautiful city here too in time.”

“But?”

“But he needs to be convinced sometimes he does 
no wrong to punish those who would take advantage 
of his generosity. You may need to teach Sir 
Erick the same lesson in time. It has been too 
long since Charles has had enemies; he knows how 
to fight with sword and pen but not with coin. 
But,” Julian smiled and lifted the chewstick to 
his incisors again, “he has earned our friendship 
many times over and deserves all we can give. In 
a few days he'll see things our way, Lenora. In 
two weeks time the stone masons and engineers 
will be working again or they will have no work at all.”

Lenora smiled around her stick as she listened. 
She had seen her father do something similar when 
some of their drivers or soldiers demanded more 
coin than the rest. There were always plenty of 
folk in Metamor willing to drive a team of horses 
or lift a sword or bow in defense.

They sat in quiet but for teeth grinding into 
wood and for the evening village voices drifting 
up through their cracked windows. Compared to 
Metamor it may as well have been as silent as an 
empty temple. She slid her tail along the 
bed-quilt until it brushed against her father's. 
He tilted his head toward her, warm red eye 
searching her face. He said nothing until he finished his chewstick.

“And how was your day, my flower? I hear Sir 
Erick took you to the forest to pick wild blueberries.”

“He did. I fear the lovely white dress you bought 
me may be ruined. I only asked him to show me 
some place in the Narrows he loves. He loves the forest, Father.”

“He grew up in a tree. You remember visiting it 
when you were little. I still remember the first 
time you tried to climb those branches with 
Natalie.” He chittered a laugh and his smile 
warmed her. “Did you enjoy the places he showed you?”

“I would have more if I had not been worried 
after my dress so. The woods were beautiful, the 
flowers very pretty, and the blueberries were 
delicious. It was so quiet though. Everything here is too quiet.”

“Except their dinner table!”

Lenora frowned, ears dropped, and cast her father 
a withering glare. “You know what I mean.”

“Aye, it is certainly quieter here than in 
Keeptowne. But the Narrows are young. With time 
and cultivation this place will seem just as 
noisy and full of life as our home.” Her father 
ran his claws through the fur behind her ears, 
something he'd often done to comfort her when she 
was young. “Does the quiet bother you?”

“It... doesn't seem right. It makes me anxious, Father.”

“Is it the only thing?”

Lenora took her last few bites of her chewstick 
then set her hands in her lap, smoothing the 
wrinkles out of her burgundy evening dress. “I 
don't think he wants to marry me, Father. I'm 
afraid he won't love me because I prefer the city 
and only feel awkward or anxious in the forest 
village. I don't want to marry someone who won't 
love me, Father. I don't want to be away so far 
from you and everything I know.” She surprised 
herself when she felt tears dripping down her 
cheeks. She thrust her arms around her father's 
chest and pressed her face in tight.

Julian continued to run his hands down the back 
of her head and neck while his other arm pulled 
her in close. “Sir Erick is a good rat, Lenora. 
He may be older than you, but he is still young 
and there is still the boy in him. It takes men 
longer to know they must love a woman. If today 
he showed you a place dear to him, then you can 
rest assured he does care about you. Love will 
grow in time. All true love does. It is not a 
thing known in a moment, but cultivated and 
deepened with every sacrifice and every shared memory.”

He leaned back and lifted her snout so their eyes 
met. “Your mother and I... oh, we had our moments 
when we were so angry we did not even want to 
smell each other's fur on anything of ours! But 
we loved each other in what short time we had and 
always overcame our anger and our wounded pride. 
I see so much of her in you, Lenora. In many ways 
I love her more every day even if we cannot be 
together. Do not fret over whether Sir Erick will 
love you or not, or whether you will love the 
Narrows or not. If you are willing to love them 
and do so, then both will be true in time.

“And do not fret over missing me; you will gain a 
new mother and father and many, many brothers and 
sisters who will be eager to love you. And beyond 
they, I will certainly spend as much time here in 
the Narrows as I can. I love you, Lenora; I am 
your father and I will protect you. I would never 
force you to marry a man you hate.”

Lenora brushed the last tear from her eyes and 
squeezed him tight. “Oh, Father! I love you too. 
I do... like Sir Erick. He is handsome and 
charming. And he is a good rat. And I do want to 
help him and his brothers and sisters. I... I just...I'm just scared!”

He continued to comb her fur with his claws while 
the tip of his tail brushed across her own. “We 
always are. I was terrified the day I married 
your mother; but the terror turned to joy, and so 
will yours. I promise. And you have another three 
years to prepare. There will be many more chances 
to know Sir Erick. He will be an older and wiser 
rat when you wed; he will see the ducal heir try 
to woo a woman first-hand, and learn the 
importance of treating his wife well if he does not know it already.

“And if all I have said does not comfort you, 
Lenora, know this.” Her father lifted her snout 
again and fixed her a firm, but comforting stare. 
“If in three years time you see something in him 
you fear, I will bring it to the Baron's 
attention and we will dissolve the betrothal if your fears are true.”

Lenora blinked and stammered, “Oh I... I don't... 
but... I don't want... I...” She chastened 
herself and then took a deep breath, “Far be it 
from me to ask so cruel a thing of you, Father. 
Sir Erick is a good rat. The only thing I fear is 
I will not be the wife he hopes for in his heart.”

His whiskers twitched and the familiar glint of 
the merchant at the bargaining table touched her 
father's eyes. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But you can 
be something better. You can be the wife he needs 
to be more than just a good rat. You can be the 
wife he needs to be a good Baron and father in 
his turn. You can be the wife he needs to make 
the Narrows prosperous. You can be the wife he 
needs to transform him from a knight without 
renown into an elder lord of Metamor. And in the 
midst of it you will give him what every man 
truly desires – a family of his own.” His smile 
transformed his face into one of profound joy. “I 
was never truly happy until you were in my life, 
Lenora. You will understand it one day, as will Sir Erick.”

Lenora nodded and a small smile touched her 
snout. Her whiskers twitched as she pondered her 
father's words. “I will try, Father. I promise you I will.”

“I know you will, my beautiful Lenora. Now, 
enough serious talk. Let us ready ourselves for 
slumber. There is much work we both have in the 
days ahead and we have had a very long day.”

Together they slipped down from the bed and 
father and daughter, as was their custom from her 
earliest years, helped each other prepare for sleep.

----------

It was well into night when Erick climbed the 
long steps into the mountains behind the Keep. 
He'd had to endure far too much of Bertram's 
needling and ribald witticisms for one night and 
the cool mountain air felt refreshing on his fur. 
The mountain stairs were rough and in some cases 
barely visible, especially on a cloudy night 
despite his rat's eyes. But every night his 
father came this way the steps would become 
smoother and easier to climb as he communed with the mountain itself.

And they were easier than last week; his father would be up above.

After dinner Gibson had wanted to see how well 
his son could fight and so Erick sparred with 
Bertram for a short while. He did his best to 
give the frog a few clever openings to impress 
his father and Bertram took all but one. Erick 
would regret the bruises in the morning, but they 
were better than his banter. When they were done 
Bertram retired with his family, but not before 
offering Erick a whispered thanks.

For a moment, Erick didn't wish his friend would 
be betrothed to a foul-smelling mud puppy.

He left the Keep and wandered the Narrows for a 
bit, watching the lamplighters at their work in 
the village streets, before walking down to the 
outer wall and climbing the unfinished tower. He 
leaned against the rocks and stared into the sky 
for many long minutes, but apart from occasional 
glimpses of stars behind the clouds, there was 
nothing for him to see. Nor would his thoughts 
settle and so not long after climbing back down – 
he would not jump like the second litter – he 
found himself making the mountain ascent.

Erick did not have to climb far before he found 
his father. The Baron was leaning against a large 
granite extrusion, his chest up to his arms and 
head fully stone, while his legs melded into the 
stone, trousers and all. There was no sign of his 
tail. It was not the first time Erick had seen 
his father this way; when he was younger he was 
always awed by what his father could do with 
stone, and especially the way he cajoled the 
mountains into providing them colorful little 
gems to shine and sparkle. But in the last few 
years he'd noticed all the little scars his 
father received turn to stone and stay; every 
time he saw his father meld with stone now he 
knew it was only a matter of time before there 
was nothing left of his father but a statue of living granite.

And how long after before the statue was nothing more than ordinary stone?

“Good evening, Father,” Erick did his best to 
keep his voice level, but a little squeak escaped at the end.

“Ah, Erick, I knew you were coming.” The mountain 
told him so; or the ivy which climbed along the 
stairs. “I will be done here in a moment. Please 
forgive me for letting you see me like this.”

Erick nodded but said nothing. He wanted to turn 
aside but he was not a child anymore. He would 
face this like a rat. For a few minutes it seemed 
as if his father did nothing but close his eyes 
and press his hands against the surface of the 
granite block. But Erick could feel the stone 
shifting beneath his toes. An edge pressed 
outward and into his claws until a new step in the long stairs emerged.

Once the changes stopped the Baron opened his 
eyes and rose upward from the stone. His tail 
slid free and took on the quality of flesh, as 
did his chest, apart from the scar Erick's 
brother gave him at the Summer Festival. The 
trousers returned to cloth as they broke free 
from the granite, and last his paws pulled free 
until his toes also splayed across the new step. 
The Baron ran a paw over his bare chest, pausing 
only briefly at the granite scar. “I know I've 
tried to keep you from seeing these, but you've known... how long?”

“I've suspected for a couple of years. About six 
months ago I saw the one on your side.” Erick 
gestured at a small scratch along his father's 
right side just above the waist; he'd nicked his 
father there while they were training last 
Winter. “And the night at the festival, I stayed 
up and hid in my minor form until you came back. I saw what Charlie did.”

His father nodded. “Please assure me you have forgiven him as I have?”

“I have, Father. But... what of you? Are you going to turn into stone forever?”

“Perhaps,” his father admitted with a moue 
darkening his already night-dark features. “But 
my friends are helping where they can; they are 
very powerful and should be able to keep the 
stone at bay for many, many years yet. Please do 
not be afraid for me, Erick. I would rather spend 
my many years seeing you grow into a man ready to 
take on the burden of tending the Narrows than worry over matters of stone.”

“I don't want to lose you, Father.”

Charles reached over and gripped Erick by the 
shoulder. He felt the claws through his tunic. “I 
promise you I will not leave you, your mother, 
and your brothers and sisters. I love you all too 
much. This stair... it is something I must build. 
One day you will understand. But enough of me! 
Your new hat looks very fetching on you, Erick.”

He reached up and touched one corner and his 
whiskers twitched into a grin. “Oh, yes, it is! 
And very comfortable too. It is my favorite already.”

“And I hear you took Lenora to the clearing to pick blueberries.”

Erick nodded. “I even took her through our secret 
passage. I don't think she enjoyed picking 
blueberries as much as I hoped she would. She was 
too worried about dirtying her dress.”

“Well, perhaps you can take her again another day 
when she's better prepared. Perhaps she was also 
fatigued from her long journey. Don't be too hard on her, son.”

“I am trying. It'd be easier if Bertram wasn't 
teasing me about her all the time.”

“Oh?”

“Aye, he does nothing else when it comes to Lenora.”

“And there will be a time in his life when you 
can return the favor.” His father laughed and 
pulled Erick in closer. “Oh, my son. You are 
blessed to have such a good friend as Bertram! If 
he did not tease you so I should have to hire 
someone to do it. We all need a friend who will 
shield us from pride and conceit. You know what 
James does for me, as well as Master Julian! And 
let us not forget every time Misha Brightleaf 
visits! If I dared become too proud of my title 
he'd use of one of Pascal's permanent dyes!”

Erick laughed and felt the better for it. Bertram 
was his friend and he wouldn't want any other at 
his side in battle. He should still have to marry a smelly mud puppy though.

“And Lenora is a good rat too. She is smart, 
gentle, and a lover of beauty. Like Master Julian 
she is shrewd and cunning. She can help you make 
the Narrows prosperous, Erick, and in a way I 
never can. She may not be as used to the forest 
as we are, but give her time. I grew up in a 
great city too, one even larger than Keeptowne, 
but I fell in love with the woods. So can she.”

“I suppose... it's just... I... well...”

Even in the dark Erick could see his father's 
face twist in a bemused grin. “Well? What is it?”

“She's well... she's like... I... my...”

“Come now, Sir Erick, is my young knight 
frightened of something?” Erick felt a blush in 
his ears. His father called him 'young knight' 
when he was a ratling riding a cloth and stick 
horse into battle with his mighty chewstick.

“Well, it's... Lenora is... she feels like she's 
my sister.” There, he finally said it. “I do like 
her. She is sweet and very kind. But... she's 
like my sister. I cannot marry my sister!”

“Nay, you cannot. But she is not your sister. She 
is going to be your wife and the mother to your 
children. You will love her more closely and 
share more with her than you ever have with your 
sisters. No one will be closer to you nor more 
necessary to you than she. So drive any thought 
she is your sister from your heart and mind. You 
are seventeen years old. You are going to be 
spending the winter aiding Sir Dupré at his 
little wall, and you will spend most of next year 
away with your brother and his grace Bryn Hassan 
in Vysehrad facing unknown perils! You cannot 
afford to act like a boy anymore. Not before them 
and certainly not before your betrothed.”

Erick scuffed his claws against the new step. 
“But I didn't chose her, Father. You did. You 
didn't have a wife thrust at you. Why don't I have a choice too?”

“No one has a choice in these things, my son.” A 
fondness filled his father's voice as he leaned 
in and gripped his shoulder anew. “None of us 
did. I and your mother had no choice. I sought 
only to console her when she became a rat, and 
yet our hearts bid us closer together until 
before I knew what had happened I could not 
control myself at all. I had to have her for my 
own and I had to belong to her if I was to know 
any happiness. My choices have only been to 
deepen the love we share in the time since our 
marriage. There were many times I could have let 
little angers fester and wound my love for her, 
but I would not. Ask any man if they chose their 
wives and the only unhappy ones you will know are those who say, 'Aye'.

“You may not have chosen Lenora, my son, but you 
can choose how to love her or not. It is those 
choices you make which will determine whether you and she will be happy.”

As his father spoke, the clouds in the east began 
to part, letting the light of the moon warm the 
mountain path with a silver radiance. For the 
first time he could see his father's eyes clearly 
and in them he saw a firm gentleness. “I love 
you, Erick. You are my flesh and blood and I have 
named you my heir. I want only your happiness and 
a long, prosperous life filled with family and 
joy. Aye, Lenora was chosen for you to bind our 
house with the merchant's guild. It will secure 
for you avenues of wealth only available to me 
through Julian's largess. And it will help both 
Julian and Lenora for he has no heir and no other 
family. There is nothing wrong with practical 
considerations when making a betrothal.

“But I would never have agreed to it if Lenora 
was not of good character. She likes you, Erick. 
She admires you. Your mother told me how much she 
enjoyed giving you your gift; and not just this 
one, but all the ones before it. You know, it was 
Lenora who picked this out for you?”

“She did?” Erick reached up and touched his new hat.

“Aye, she did. Stop being afraid of her and do 
more of what you did today. Share yourself and 
what you love with her. She wants to love you; 
let her. And in your heart I know you want to 
love her back, my son. Do so. Be gentle where she 
is weak and uncertain; the forest is not her home 
but it can be if you teach her. And trust her 
where she is strong; she grew up at the 
bargaining table and knows the ways of merchants. 
There is little about her, my son, to quibble or 
fear. She will be your wife and you must be a good husband to her.”

Erick sighed and dug his claws in further. “I 
will try. I just... I... I just hope I can, 
Father. I just hope I can be a good husband like 
you. You can do so many things I cannot. Both you 
and mother and Charlie and Natalie and Misha, you 
all have these powers I don't. I'm just a rat 
trained as a knight. What do I have to offer her? 
What do I have to offer the Narrows?”

The moon glowed on the granite scar across his 
father's chest, yet it was not brighter than the 
pride in his father's eyes. “You are far more 
than just a rat trained as a knight, Erick. You 
are valiant. You are honest. And you are wise to 
know where you are strong and where you are weak. 
My powers dictated the course of my life, as have 
Charlie's, and to a lesser extent Misha and 
Natalie's. There are some things you cannot do, 
aye, but you also have a freedom they do not. You 
have a freedom I did not. I had to betray my 
order to have the life I have now, and it was a 
terrible burden to pay the cost for my betrayal, but...”

“It's a long story,” Erick finished.

His father chittered a small laugh. “Aye, it's a 
long story.” He pulled Erick into a tight 
embrace. He could feel the cold of the granite 
scar, but all else was wiry fur and warm flesh. 
“Ah, Erick, you have already proven yourself to 
me. You will show your worth to Lenora and the 
Narrows. Do not fear. Now come. Let us return home to our family.”

Erick hugged his father tight, doing his best to 
smile. “I will try, Father. I promise.”

“And you will have scores who love you dearly 
helping you every step of the way, my son. Now 
come, we have a long day of wrangling with Master 
Julian, the stone masons, and the engineers 
tomorrow. We're going to need our rest.”

Together the two rats walked down the incomplete 
stairs, Erick standing just a bit taller. Lenora 
was pretty. She was smart. Maybe it wouldn't be 
so bad. Maybe they could love each other. In time.

Bertram could still use a good thrashing. Erick 
chittered a laugh as they headed back home.

----------

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

Charles Matthias
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