<html> <body> And here's the second story in my Sixth Cycle!  Big thanks go out to Ryx who aided me in the editing and also everything that came to pass in Sutthaivasse. Metamor Keep: Lament of the Kangaroo By Charles Matthias January, 708 CR <x-tab>         </x-tab>Yes. <x-tab>        </x-tab> Lindsey opened one eye.  Her muzzle lay on its side, a lumpy pillow that had at one time contained feathers met her red-furred face.  A patchwork blanket covered her kangaroo body.  Darkness surrounded her.  Her long ears caught the grinding of oars in the locks and the lap of waves against the Iron King’s sides.  The air inside their room was warm but the sharp tang of the ocean was unavoidable.  Her nostrils spread wide and she caught the crisp scent of Jessica and the pungent aroma of Kayla.  The men were in another room down the hall but even the animal musks of Charles, James, and Guernef reached her. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Jessica made no noise when she slept apart from the occasional rustling of feathers.  Kayla had once snored, but six months of wariness had cured her of that ill.  Still their breath was warmth in her ears, a soothing counterpoint to the mechanical grinding of the oars, the merciless slosh of the ocean, and the glimmerings of unsettled dreams.  After all they had been through together these last six months, they were still together. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Yes. <x-tab>        </x-tab> Lindsey turned her ears and rolled as best she could onto her back.  The long tail and oddly proportioned hips made it impossible, but she could manage enough to prop herself up on one elbow.  Even though the Iron King was the flagship of the Pyralian Navy, and it was only the three of them berthed where a dozen sailors had once slept, the room was still cramped.  They would have been given the state rooms, but they were even smaller.  This was a vessel built for war, not ferrying dilettantes. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Jessica perched in full form in one corner, while Kayla and Lindsey had separate pallets opposite the door.  They had no gear after the destruction of Marzac obliterated what little had remained.  They didn’t even have proper clothes anymore and had to borrow scraps from the stores left on the ship, which after months at sea, were barely adequate to keep them warm let alone modest.  So there was nowhere in the room for anyone to hide. <x-tab>        </x-tab>So who had spoken? <x-tab>        </x-tab>Or had it just been her imagination?  It had been a week since they’d begun the trek north against wind and current, which made it only eight days since Marzac had been cast down and destroyed.  Eight days since she had lost her Zhypar.  Her heart ached at the mere memory of the kangaroo.  And now, in a cruel irony, she was exactly what she wished she could have been for him these last five years — a female kangaroo.  Was she now imagining that he spoke to her to ease her pain? <x-tab>        </x-tab>She half expected to hear the voice, but the room remained silent and still.  Lindsey lay back down into her pallet and misery.  Metamor was still a few weeks away at best.  A winter storm could put it a couple months away.  But what did she have to go back to?  She tried not to think on it but let her exhaustion claim her again. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The groaning of the locks and churning of the sea continued.  In the distance she heard men speaking.  Dawn would come soon enough.  Her eyelids drooped and a long sigh escaped her snout. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Yes. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Her eyelids lifted for a moment and then fell shut into a haunted slumber. ---------- <x-tab>         </x-tab>They were an odd fleet, even in peace-time.  The Pyralian flagship, the Iron King, was at the centre of the forces, while several smaller craft from Sutthaivasse flanked him.  A company of Whalish dromus and dromonai acted as escort, while mixed in throughout were a smattering of merchant ships, masted and oared, as well as a handful of skiffs, carraks, and longships that had survived the battle in the Marzac straits. <x-tab>        </x-tab>A majority of the Pyralian vessels that hadn’t been sunk or foundered in the squall sailed northeast up the coast toward Tournemire and Breckaris.  Commodore Pythoreaus had taken what Whalish ships weren’t involved in rescue of those stranded back to Whales for refitting and repairs.  Prince Phil led the remainder north with what remained of the Sutthaivasse fleet and the merchant ships seeking a port along the western shores of Galendor.  Almost all the food stores belonged to either Whales or Sutthaivasse, but they had been shared with the rest and while tempestuous weather would have meant some went without, the good weather held as they made their way north along the marshlands and coasts of southwestern Pyralis. <x-tab>        </x-tab>It was ten days to reach Blackwater, and there many of the Pyralian vessels slouched into port to winter.  Another three days up the Pyralian coastline brought an escort of six Sutthaivasse longships known as Skekar.  Upon sight of these, Malger boasted they were only a day from Sutthaivasse and would soon see her harbors.  There they would restock their wares and board a fresh vessel for the long journey to Metamor.  With fair weather, they could reach Menth in four week’s time, three if the winds shifted, which would bring them to Metamor by the second week of February.  Just the mere thought of the Keep with its alabaster towers amidst snow-capped peaks and arboreal cloak filled the Keepers with an ardent longing that made them restless on their journey. <x-tab>        </x-tab>They bided themselves with resting and talk of simpler times.  Kayla, Jessica, and Charles all spent a good bit of time speaking with Phil.  The rabbit eagerly lapped up their news and shared what little he had of his own.  All of the men, Andares included, spent time manning the oars as they never had quite enough which accounted for their slow pace.  Abafouq and Guernef kept to themselves mostly, with the little Binoq doing what he could for the Nauh-kaee’s wounded thigh.  It healed slowly, and the white gryphon, no matter how little he walked, always limped.  Lindsey kept to herself though all spent time with her to comfort her.  Every one of them could feel the loss of Habakkuk like a gaping wound.  Little was said of Qan-af-årael who had also given his life, but apart from Charles and Andares, none had ever truly known him except for their journey together. <x-tab>        </x-tab>They found solace where they could.  One of the corrupted prisoners on the Iron King was an Ecclesia priest, and he offered Mass every day with what little there was on hand.  The altar was two pieces of wood carved with the likeness of Yahshua by one of the crewmen over a barrel draped in white linen meant for binding wounds.  The golden chalice and paten were those originally brought, but even they had been bent and warped during the battle.  Still, it was the first Mass that Charles, James, and Jerome had been able to attend since they’d set out on this journey, and each savoured it as a dying man does a drop of water on their tongue.  A Lothanasi priest was able to offer prayers with Jessica and Kayla, but his supplies were fewer still. <x-tab>        </x-tab>But their hearts truly felt relief when the city of Sutthaivasse came into view.  A line of hills backed by a sheer escarpment of upthrust gray granite shielded the city from the south, stretching to a narrow point on which a light house perched.  The northern slopes of the hills were dotted with wharves, warehouses, and a number of homes.  These stretched like an arm toward the city nestled between two lines of hills at the mouth of the Mendaisse river.  The northern hills gave way to marshland as they descended to the coast, while the river formed a vast delta built over with buildings, bridges and canals.  Spanning the river were several stone bridges stretching back toward the escarpment where the Sutt manor house loomed as an eagle in his eyrie. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The Keepers and their companions all stood on the deck of the Iron King, Malger grinning from ear to ear in his finery. “Sutthaivasse!  The city of my youth.  I don’t think I’ve ever quite been happier to see her than today.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“She looks to be more prosperous than the last time I saw her,” Sir Autrefois mused quietly.  The castellan for the late Marquis was wearing a borrowed Pyralian sailor’s uniform from that fit him loosely, making his muscular frame appear more flab than firm. “The last time I saw her your father’s head was being hoisted on a pig pole outside the city gates.” The last was added without any trace of acid of bitterness.  It just was. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Malger, musteline features cloaked by his medallion, shrugged. “I do not lament his death.  Nor your master’s.  Since Handil’s head was so displayed, the merchants have revitalized my home and made it a place of commerce, comedy, and courtship.  I fear my return has left many families off-balance.” His grin now took on a wicked cast that belied his beastly nature. “It seems they were just as happy to have the Sutts dead as your master was.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Jessica gestured to the wharves and to an assemblage of soldiers and carriages she saw arrayed at the footing of the largest pier thrusting outward from the lowland canals.  A broad boulevard began where the carriages were staged and lead into the hills toward the escarpment. “Are those for us?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Malger squinted in the grey light of midday and nodded. “Yes.  The messages I sent ahead were explicit.  The carriages should keep you concealed as much as possible.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I think news of our arrival will spread anyway,” Charles pointed out.  He had on a pair of stained white trousers rolled up thickly along his hocks with a sword-begotten hole for his tail but nothing else.  His vine, still weak after Zagrosek’s fire, was once again imbedded into his flesh above his tail, but new green shoots were beginning to curl over his bare chest.  He slept as stone for the sake of the vine, but most of his waking hours were as flesh for the sake of the sailors who were more unnerved by a moving statue than they were by the beast men of Metamor. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Indeed,” Malger conceded. “The faster ships put to port days ago with the loose tongues of warriors victoriously returned from war.  But with so many foreign ships arriving now the crowds on the palazzo will be a little too boisterous to chance being seen.  Let them wonder and whisper instead!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>While Malger described the city the ragtag fleet broke apart.  The escorts directed the most damaged of vessels to dock first at the wharves nearest the warehouses.  The Whalish fleet were given berths furthest from the city.  Dockhands scrambled like hundreds of ants to secure rigging and lash leadlines to the piers.  Waves sloshed over the stone wharves as ship after ship settled into place. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The Iron King heaved to much closer to the river delta where a massive stone pier thrust out into the bay, obviously built to handle the largest ships.  Small boats ferried out stout ropes connected to winches that slowly drew the huge Pyralian ship snugly to its berth.  The huge vessel dominated much of the pier.  From their perch atop the Iron King’s aft castle the Keepers could all see the maze of canals and channels that crisscrossed the lower portion of the city.  Narrow boats navigated those canals, poled by the poor and the wealthy alike.  From over rooftops and under bridges curious crowds poured out to watch the spectacle, their eyes widening and yews traced over their chests when they saw the strange creatures atop the Iron King’s aft castle.  Word of the alien forms rescued from the ruins of Marzac had spread swiftly after the arrival of the faster Suttiavasse long ships.  Now, with their arrival, the wonder of their alien nature overcame the natural caution evinced in the face of such strange presences arriving aboard the captured Pyralian flagship. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Once they’d docked Malger led them down the pier, which was cordoned off by ranks of liveried men-at-arms, to the tiled square at the foot of the pier and the numerous carriages waiting for them.  Guernef, Abafouq, and Andares crammed into one and immediately drew silk blinds over the windows.  The Keepers, including Phil, followed Malger into the largest, while Jerome kept an eye on Vigorueax and Autrefois in a third.  Malger’s carriage was spacious with rows of seats in front, back, and along either side.  To sit comfortably, Lindsey and Charles both had to sit sideways in the seats next to the doors, while the others made do in the front and back.  The carriage sagged noticeably as Rupert climbed aboard and crouched on the floor. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“How long will it take before we can leave?” Charles asked. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Malger’s lips settled into an amused moue. “You just arrived and already you want to go.  I should be offended.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The rat’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest, making the fur there ripple. “I have a wife and five children waiting for me there that I haven’t seen in almost seven months now.  Yes, I am a little eager to get home.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Of course,” Malger replied, the minstrel turned noble’s face taking on a sympathetic cast. “It will take only a matter of days to equip a swift vessel of seaworthy carriage to tackle the rough winter seas to the north.  When we arrive, the first you’ll do is endure the ministrations of the tailors.  I’ve ordered them ready to supply you with new clothes that actually fit.  You should have them before we sup tonight.”  He looked through the thin veil of dyed silk as the carriages lurched into motion, “With luck my duties here will be fulfilled in no more than a fortnight and I will journey north as well.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“That will be greatly appreciated.” Kayla almost gasped in relief as she spoke, looking over to Malger, “You will not be staying?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Malger only shook his head, “This is my father’s legacy, not mine own.  My home, if I ever felt a place to be such, would be Silvassa.”  He looked back to Kayla and then Charles and the others, “And Metamor, far more than this city.  It may have been the home of my youth, but never my heart.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The boulevard was thronged with crowds in a festive air that slowed the carriages on their journey as the cavalry leading the column forged a path through the gawkers.  They watched the slow progress of Inns and storefronts creep by through the concealing veil of silk draperies over the carriage windows.  Just beyond rode armed soldiers of the Sutt household as a moving wall keeping the throngs at bay.  With little to see other than massive royal carriages the crowds could only crane their necks hoping for a passing glimpse at the beast-people reputed to have sacked an entire castle uncontested with a mere score of warriors.  Occasionally a disparaging word would be cast toward Malger’s house or some unseen object would be hurtled against the side of the carriage.  Many of those impromptu missiles struck the stoic soldiers pacing their conveyance but the well trained escorts merely shrugged off the assaults without word. <x-tab>        </x-tab>During the interminable ride Malger engaged them with descriptions of notable buildings or architecture but his audience was only interested in finding an escape from the tight press of onlookers.  After months on the trail, with the end of their journey within hands’ reach, they were only concerned with continuing their return home with all due haste. <x-tab>        </x-tab>At length the carriages drew into the shadow of the escarpment, a vertical wall of granite a couple hundred feet high atop which loomed the parapets and walls of the most noble houses, the Sutt manor being the most prominent of them.  The boulevard curved upward along that sheer wall but the carriages did not turn, they continued forward into cooler darkness and finally drew to a halt.  Malger stood and pushed the door open, inviting them to disembark. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“From here we will take the lift.” He explained as they climbed down from the carriage with a muted squeak of metal leaf springs.  The travelers found themselves in a massive stone grotto artfully carved with architectural flourishes that, had he more time to marvel Charles would have found fascinating.  At the far end of the grotto was a torch-lit wooden platform large enough to park two of the carriages side by side.  Owing to the varied sizes of their passengers, however, Malger chose to dispense with the carriages.  “Centuries ago a forward thinking engineer thought to make the noble houses difficult to besiege and dug a vertical shaft downward to this cavern to store provisions.  Duke Gregor enlarged it and put in a winched elevator to get from the lowlands to the manor by a far more direct route.” He explained as they filed onto the broad wooden platform.  Four huge wagon wheels stood vertically at four points of the platform, set into well-worn grooves along the wall.  Once everyone was aboard he tugged on a dangling rope and a moment later the entire platform shuddered and began moving upward. <x-tab>        </x-tab> Occasionally they would pass large, iron-banded wooden doors inset into the vertical walls.  A few were deeper set and set ninety degrees to the passageway to make forcing the doors with rams all but impossible.  “My father took to storing the wealth of his conquering here, below the household catacombs.  Many have not been explored since his day.”  He chuckled as he leaned on one of the thick chains supporting the broad lift.  “Needless to say, neither he nor my siblings rest here.  I have no idea what became of most of them.  Well, other than their heads decorating the eastern gates.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“You sound rather glib, considering your head may have joined theirs.” Jerome said blandly, “And still may, if many of the crowds below have any say in the matter.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Another reason I have no wish to tarry here.” Malger agreed with a nod. <x-tab>        </x-tab>In due course the platform ascended to a secondary courtyard at the rear of the Sutt manor house where a crowd of house servitors awaited the return of their Archduke and the curious retinue they had been forewarned to expect.  Even with that forewarning a susurrus of fearful whispers caught the Keeper’s ears as they came into view.  Guernef was of most concern to them as he regally stepped from the platform onto the tiled terrazzo.  A dark haired woman dressed in the finery of a noble stepped forward boldly without a second glance at the half-human beasts and curtsied briefly to Malger, “Welcome back, milord.” She said with a warm smile and a shift of her gaze that took everyone in, “And welcome to you, heroes of Metamor.”  <x-tab>        </x-tab>Malger proffered his arm and she slipped one hand lightly upon his elbow, “Thank you, Val.  You have had some success in your endeavours in my unannounced absence?” he asked as he followed Guernef from the platform.  Charles noticed that she did not flinch at the fur she could not help but feel under the thin material of his shirt. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The woman smiled enigmatically and nodded, “Some small bit, Malger, yes.  Success is all but assured.”  Charles noted that though she was garbed as a noble she walked with the smooth gait of a trained fighter.  No doubt under the encumbering spill of brocade she was as well armed as the soldiers standing about the periphery of the courtyard. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Now come my friends,” Malger said, beckoning them with a wave of his free arm. “Come to my house and let us find you some new clothes.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>All followed the last son of Handil Sutt eagerly. ---------- <x-tab>         </x-tab>“And now,” the somewhat exasperated tailor said as he looked Charles up and down, “I think I’ll need to measure your... your... um.... tail.  Is that all right?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The rat chuckled and nodded. “It’s not as if the tailors of Metamor haven’t done the same many times before.  Just be careful of my vine.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The guest rooms that Malger had hastily arranged for them had at one point boasted of the power of the Sutt family, but many of Handil Sutt’s grotesque trophies had been removed.  Only the outline remained on the wall where the sunlight had faded the uncovered paint.  Separate suites were provided for the men and women, although there were not enough beds for all of them.  But after over six months of travel, not a one of them minded sleeping on only their blankets, and Charles when stone didn’t truly sleep anyway. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The head tailor had a staff of half a dozen youths just old enough to court, and their expressions ranged from intrigued to horrified as they came to take measurements of the half beasts from Metamor.  One of them approached Guernef but quickly fled at meeting the steeled gaze in the Nauh-kaee’s dark eyes.  The rest clustered around Jerome, Andares, Autrefois, Vigoreaux, and Abafouq who were all human or looked it.  Charles and James had to make do with the bravest who nevertheless by their posture and scent made it clear they’d rather be somewhere else. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The head tailor carried an air of excitement as he examined their bodies.  Clearly he was looking forward to the challenge of reworking clothes to fit their odd shapes. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Charles chuckled beneath his breath while lightly brexing his teeth as the apprentice tentatively wrapped a measuring cord around the base of his tail. “What do you... do you want around your tail, master Matthias?” the youth asked. “Do you wish for a sleeve, or do you want it left open?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“A little sleeve, enough for modesty.  Any more and it will just chafe my tail.”  The apprentice scribbled the notes on his sleeve, and then quickly retreated to confer with the master.  Charles stretched, the vine brushing gently against his back.  He looked at James.  The donkey, for the moment, was also clad only in trousers, and the rat noted how much heartier his friend looked in the year since they’d met on the snowy morning after Nasoj’s assault had been driven back.  It seemed a lifetime ago now. <x-tab>        </x-tab>James noted his look, smiled, glanced at the tailors, and shrugged.  He opened his mouth to say something, when the door opened and more servants entered bearing boxes.  The master directed these to be set down along one wall and opened.  They opened with hinges to create three tiers of four inch deep trays filled with trinkets, belts, sashes, buckles, and other odds and ends.  Another set of servants bore several bolts of cloth, with at least two dozen colours and some a patchwork that managed to look dignified rather than gaudy. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Now that we have your measurements,” the tailor announced, “please come select the colours and fabrics you desire, as well as styles of buttons or clasps you’d prefer.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>They gathered around and made their selections one by one.  Charles rather liked one of the patchwork fabrics as it had a fair bit of black, green and blue in it, perfect for scouting.  He couldn’t suppress a startled squeak when he found a brass belt buckle in the shape of a rat’s head.  The tailor looked relieved to find someone who wanted the unlikely bauble and set it atop the colourful bolt. <x-tab>        </x-tab>A sudden shout from across the room caught their ears.  Charles was the first to move, leaping past a trio of startled assistants to dive into the hallway with only the barest of loincloths on.  He was through the door into the lady’s room with only two steps.  Jerome and James were right behind him. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The scene they found filled them with sudden embarrassment.  Kayla and Lindsey had disrobed while the seamstresses took their measurements.  One of them, a girl no older than seventeen, had a measuring cord in her hands as she lay crumpled on the floor, common white dress splayed around her legs.  A look of utter befuddlement and horror marred her otherwise comely face.  Before her, Lindsey kept her arms over her mid-section just above her hips, a beastly twitch to her jowls. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Jessica turned to the rat and lifted a wing to block the men’s view. “It’s all right!  Everybody’s fine.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The rat lowered his eyes and was suddenly very self-conscious. “Sorry, we heard the scream and...” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“No need to apologize,” Jessica repeated, her golden eyes understanding but also hardening. “Just get out!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>James and Jerome had already made their way out.  Charles apologized one last time and scampered back to his room.  Some of the apprentices sniggered behind their hands.  Guernef glowered at them and they immediately stopped. “Is everything all right?” Abafouq asked while he rifled through the tray with sashes. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Oh, I just think the seamstress touched Lindsey someplace she shouldn’t have, that’s all,” Jerome replied. <x-tab>        </x-tab>James looked down at his arms, and then over to the rat. “Wow, you were right, Charles.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“About what?” the rat asked, still rubbing his paws together to hide his chagrin. <x-tab>        </x-tab> “Instinct’s taking over.  After all these months, I heard the shout, and moved without thinking about it.  I was trying to grab my sword every step!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Charles grinned, pride pushing the shame out of his heart.  He reached up and patted the donkey on the shoulder. “That’s a good sign my friend!  A good sign!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The tailor tapped the wares a trifle impatiently. “If you would all pick out what you want, we can begin preparing them for you.  I know you don’t want to go to milord Sutt’s table as you are!”  They needed no more convincing than that, and they all let the incident with Lindsey drift from their minds.  They were going to get fresh clothes at long last! ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias !DSPAM:4b18f7b5262911804284693! </body> </html>