<html> <body> Metamor Keep: Lament of the Kangaroo By Charles Matthias Part 2 <x-tab>         </x-tab>Malger proved as good as his word yet again when by the fall of the winter sun, the servants returned with bundles of clothes for them, and an invitation to dine with the lord Sutt.  Their garments were modest but well apportioned, and to their delight, all fit well.  Charles found his garments roomy and loose-fitting as he’d requested; this way they wouldn’t damage his vine.  A green v-necked tunic with decorative cuffs that came to the middle of his upper arms went on first, then a firm leather vest that left his chest open while protecting his back.  Beneath this his vine snuggled appreciatively.  The trousers came to just above his knees and was fashioned from the many-coloured patchwork fabric.  The rat head belt buckle snapped over a series of tassels that were, he was told, the latest in fashion in Sutthaivasse.  Apart from the fact that he was a rat, he looked much like many of the sons of the well-to-do families. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Of course, they wouldn’t wear such light clothes in this cool weather, but sporting fur did have its advantages. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The others were similarly attired, though somehow, Andares made his blue-hued garments look otherworldly just by wearing them.  And Lindsey looked decidedly uncomfortable in her tunic and breeches, as she constantly adjusted her hips as they walked through the castle halls on their way to their private dinner with Malger. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Prince Phil and his ever present aid Rupert joined them along the way.  As visiting nobility, Phil was granted his own suite, and another batch of Sutthaivasse tailors had provided him with something new to wear.  His was more regal in bearing, but it appeared to irritate the white rabbit as much as Lindsey’s plainer material did her. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The dining hall was finely apportioned, with painted plaster walls arching between stone column supports to a high vault above.  The vault had been painted as well, though many of the colours were beginning to fade and lacked the luster of those closer to the ground.  Scenes of the countryside, armies, conquests, all blended in with scenes from vineyards and crops and ships and seas.  Quite a few of them bore hints of Ecclesia symbology but nothing overt.  The floor was tiled in a brilliant terracotta mosaic, though most if it had been covered in foreign carpets, and the massive mahogany table obscured the rest.  Standing at the head of the table in an overly ornate chair that was more throne than dinner seat, was Malger dressed as a fop as usual. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Welcome to my humble hall,” Malger crowed without a hint of irony. “Please sit where you will.  You are all guests in my house.” So saying, he took his seat with immense satisfaction.  Phil sat on his right, haunches firmly planted in the seat, while Rupert gingerly found a place next to the rabbit.  Autrefois and Vigoreaux sat near one end, while Guernef lowered his bulk at the opposite end.  Abafouq joined Guernef, with Kayla and Jessica nearby.  Lindsey and Jerome sat near the servants of Tournemire, while Charles and James were forced to sit across from Malger.  Andares, the last to sit, took the seat at Malger’s left next to the enigmatic, dark haired woman Malger merely referred to as ‘Val’ without appending any titles.  The only empty seat was between James and Jessica, and that Malger assured them would be filled in a moment. <x-tab>        </x-tab>After two weeks in which to discuss their many travels, the Keepers and their allies were pleased when Malger kept the conversation away from such things.  Instead he told then of his home in Sutthaivasse, and some of its storied history.  All the while servers brought in platters of bread, cheese, pastries, and various exotic fruits to whet their appetite for the main courses to come later.  Most of the servitors kept clear of Guernef, but there were two barely out of boyhood who took every chance they could to almost worshipfully near the giant gryphon.  If the Nauh-kaee noticed them, he paid them no mind, eating what Abafouq sampled for him with a refined delicacy his companions had grown used to and that surprised the others anew. <x-tab>        </x-tab>While Malger sampled a pastry with a white glaze and strawberry jam, a well-dressed servant leaned over the noble’s head and whispered something that not even Charles could hear. The marten masquerading as a man nodded and then, as the servant briskly departed, tapped a spoon against his goblet. “My most welcome guests, I’ve just been informed that our final guest has just now arrived and is being brought here as we speak.” The animal-morphed swung their ears toward the doors behind Charles as they could hear the sound of firm treads coming close. “And here he is.  The young Philippe du Tournemire.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Now all heads swung as the doors opened and in walked a boy no more than ten years of age.  He was clad in royal blue doublet and hose and walked between the Sutthaivasse guards with some trepidation.  His face, angular and hawk-like, much as Camille’s had once been, with searing blue eyes beneath a curly mop of blonde hair, betrayed a bit of childish fear and none of the arrogance they had once seen in the late Marquis.  But there could be no mistake, this was his son. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Welcome, young Philippe,” Malger said while standing. “I am the Archduke Malger Sutt, and these are my guests, as now are you.  I trust your journey from Whitestone was comfortable.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The boy tried to smile in a disarming way. “If a little surprising.  I...” His eyes widened as he finally noticed who else was in the room.  His face went an even paler white as he swept over the Keepers and assembled creatures from out of legend.  And then his smile was genuine boyish delight. “Keepers!  I get to sit at table with Keepers!  Liselle’s going to tear out the rest of her hair when she hears this!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Autrefois jumped to his feet, strode before the boy and fell to his knees. “Milord Marquis!  I am relieved to see you safe.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Vigoreaux was quick on his heels both in kneeling and in professing his gratitude for Philippe’s safety.  The boy smiled at them both, and then frowned. “Sir Autrefois!  Vigoreaux!  But why do you call me Marquis?  Where’s my father?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I fear your father has given up his life to defeat a great evil,” Vigoreaux replied.  James nearly hacked up the pastry he’d been eating.  The Steward continued as if he’d not heard that report of protest. “Your father’s title and all that goes with it falls to you, milord.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Philippe’s delight vanished and for a moment he seemed on the verge of tears. “But he promised me he would come visit this year.  He promised!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Sir Autrefois put a steadying hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Come sit with us, milord, and eat.  Lord Sutt has been most gracious with his table.  Your father died bravely and you should be too.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Charles nudged James, and the two of them stood up.  The rat gestured to his chair. “Milord Philippe, please take this seat.  It is yours by right of noble birth.  We shall move to the end and let thy men share your place.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Philippe glanced at Charles and his eyes widened, though not nearly as much as a moment before. “Forgive me, but are you a rat?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Charles nodded and bowed respectfully to the boy. “My name is Charles Matthias, and I am your servant.  I do remember the look on your father’s face the night you were born. I had been briefly in his employ at the time.”  The others had all heard this tale, apart from Malger and Phil who both stared at the rat slack-jawed.  Jerome nodded to them both and also bowed to the boy. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Come, milord Philippe.  You are among those who shared your father’s struggle against evil.  For we are witnesses of his final moments, in which he acted to save all of us at the cost of his own life.” Jerome pulled his chair out too, and slowly, Philippe and the two men of Tournemire came forward. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Philippe, only ten, was as tall as Charles and stared into his face with delight. “Could you sit by me, master Matthias?  I’d like to know more about my father.  And Metamor.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Charles bowed again, already liking this boy. “At your command.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>James moved into the empty seat beside Jessica, while Charles took the donkey’s seat.  Philippe sat in the rat’s, with Sir Autrefois hulking next to him where Jerome had once been.  Lindsey pushed herself away from the table and held one paw over her belly. “Forgive me lords, but I am not feeling well.” And with that she half walked, half hopped through the doors.  All eyes watched her go, but none followed, despite the yearning look on Kayla’s face. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Vigoreaux took her seat, rubbing his hands as he kept a close watch on Philippe.  Jerome settled in at the end of the table, and exchanged stolid glanced with Rupert who of course said nothing. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Now that we are all seated,” Malger said, composure regained, though he did favour the rat a curious glance, “we may continue.  Yes, on your return to Tournemire, you will be crowned the Marquis.  I have no intention of interfering with that.” He glanced at the two retainers meaningfully. “But we are going to be discussing new treaties and arrangements for these lands.  Ten years ago the house of Sutt stretched forth its hands to claim all of Western Pyralis.  Your father was instrumental in preventing that.  But now his hand has laid hold of too much.  Between us we shall draw back and grant each land and house authority over their own land.  None will be the strongest.  Prince Phillip of Whales shall act as a mediator in our discussions to ensure all is fair.  Representatives of Metamor, the Åelf, the Binoq, the Sondeckis, and the... Nauh-kaee shall also stand as witnesses.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Philippe looked everyone over and then he stared hard at Malger. “You must be the runaway if you’re Handil Sutt’s son.” Everyone stared at the boy in surprise.  He’d gone from nearly crying to a canny observer. “Liselle always said there were rumours one of you Sutt boys survived.  You don’t seem too bad for a Sutt.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Why... thank you.” Malger replied, even as the rabbit at his right rocked his ears in laughter. “And who is Liselle?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Oh she’s my tutor.  She gossips all the time.  Better than my bodyguard who won’t say anything to me.  I preferred Weyden, but father sent him to Metamor.  Hey, do any of you know Weyden?  He used to teach me how to fight with a sword.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Jessica cawed in anguish. “Weyden... I know him very well, Philippe.  He became a hawk like me.  He told me many things about being in your father’s service, but he never mentioned you.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Phil rested his paws together. “It seems we all have connections one way or another.  Good.  Then perhaps we can come to an equitable agreement to ensure peace in Pyralis.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Indeed!” Malger said with hope. “Now, milord Philippe, the first thing that we should decide, is who will act as regent for you until you come of age.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Oh that,” Philippe said with disdain.  He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about that.  I want to hear about my father.” He turned to Charles. “You knew him.  Tell me more please.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Charles smiled and nodded. “Of course, milord.” He gestured to Malger and Phil. “Perhaps after we’ve finished with why you’re here.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Philippe shook his head. “We’re all still eating.  My father told me never to talk politics while eating. It just makes a mess.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Malger finally laughed. “How very true!  Very well, I’ll have the main courses brought, and Charles can tell you more about your father.  We’ll discuss affairs of state after.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Charles saw the secret grin that flashed over the young boy’s face.  Yes, he was definitely his father’s son.  Crafty and clever in getting what he wanted, but still genuinely a boy with a boy’s desires.  The rat couldn’t help but like him.  As servants brought in platters of fish, mutton, and numerous pastas, Charles set out to describe that night ten years past when the Marquis had learned of his son’s birth.  Philippe and all the rest listened with rapt attention. ---------- <x-tab>         </x-tab>Lindsey shut the door and pressed her back against it, tail tip poking between her large feet.  Her fur trembled beneath the loose fitting but comfortable garb.  After two weeks with next to nothing on the clothes felt foreign.  Once she was confidant that no one had followed her back, she quickly but gently removed the offending garments. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Yes. <x-tab>        </x-tab> Lindsey dropped the clothes on the floor and trembled anew.  Ever since that night before they’d reached Blackwater, she’d heard that single word repeated over and over again at night.  But at the dinner she’d heard it again, the first time ever while the sun still shone.  And it seemed more insistent than before. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Lindsey put her paws on the bed she’d been given while they stayed.  Her snout poked through the curtains hung to keep in the warmth, but the darkness within brought nothing. “Who are you?” she asked, voice ragged and raw. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Yes. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“No,” Lindsey replied. “Please leave me alone.”  Nothing.  The kangaroo took several long breaths, ears folded flat against her head, toes arching and claws digging into the carpet.  Why did it only ever repeat that one word?  It wasn’t a word she’d ever used herself, being too formal, a construct only the courts of the south employed.  And only then as an answer to a question.  So what was the question? <x-tab>        </x-tab>Yes. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Stop it!  Stop it!  What do you want from me?” Lindsey crawled onto the bed and drew the curtains closed, trapping herself in darkness.  The air was still and warm.  In quieter tones she asked, “Where are you?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Her paws slid down across her chest and belly, and then stopped when they felt a slight rupture.  Lindsey couldn’t see it, but let her thumb trace along its edge.  Her pouch.  With a start, her other paw spreading over its depth, she knew that there was something inside. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Yes. <x-tab>        </x-tab> Licking her teeth, Lindsey asked, “Are you my child?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Yes. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The kangaroo sobbed and stroked her paws down across her pouch. “With Zhypar?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Yes. <x-tab>        </x-tab> Lindsey lay on the bed with her paws over her pouch and tears soaking her cheek fur.  What she had longed for in the ten years since she’d first fallen in love with Zhypar Habakkuk had finally come to pass.  She was carrying his child.  But he had passed beyond the grave, and only that sick display the Marquis had forced them to make on the Dais had given her this blessing.  From out of evil Eli draws good — Zhypar had told her that many times.  Her heart waxed from joy at the child to sorrow at the father’s passing. <x-tab>        </x-tab>But for the first time in two weeks, it did wax. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Her claws traced out little circles in the fur covering her pouch.  There was something inside.  She could feel it.  Her chest expanded with new breath.  She couldn’t wait to tell the others. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Do not tell anyone about me. <x-tab>        </x-tab> Lindsey stiffened, but nodded.  Best to keep this to herself for now.  The child was hers and Habakkuk’s.  Nobody else need know.  Nobody else should know. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Yes. <x-tab>        </x-tab> ---------- <x-tab>         </x-tab>Charles spent the better part of an hour turning their ears with tales of the Marquis in his younger days before Marzac had turned him into a monster.  They all took delight in the story of Philippe’s birth, and the Marquis’s change from a noblemen caught in war to a proud father.  Malger especially seemed interested in the tales since they were of a perspective he’d never before heard.  The disguised marten only recalled his hated father’s frustration at failing to crush the armies of Tournemire.  To know that a friend of his had aided his enemies in that long ago time brought him no end of satisfaction. <x-tab>        </x-tab>But eventually their talk did return to politics, and the chief concern was for the disposition of Whitestone.  The city that stood at the centre of western Pyralis was nominally under the control of Tournemire, but that was a victory won against Handil Sutt, who had himself taken Whitestone in his march of conquest.  Philippe was loathe to give it up, mainly because he’d spent most of his youth there — for him, the coastal city of Tournemire was only a dim memory of his earliest years before his mother had died. <x-tab>        </x-tab> Unsurprisingly, Malger didn’t see it that way. “This is not a matter of sentimentality or of maintaining your hold on Whitestone, Philippe.  Tournemire’s armies have mostly abandoned the city already.  Why else do you think my soldiers were able to bring you here to Sutthaivasse unmolested?  Neither Tournemire nor Sutthaivasse can hold Whitestone against their will for very long, nor should we.  They should be allowed sovereignty over their own lands.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Vigoreaux shook his head firmly. “It is not a matter of sovereignty, your grace.  It is a matter of discretion and wisdom.  Baron Dalando of Whitestone is a contemptuous man of intemperate disposition.  It would be foolish to allow him unchecked power over either ‘his’ people or ‘his’ lands.  Wiser hands must be at the helm of Whitestone.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Charles grunted and frowned. “I have to concur.  I spent some time watching Baron Dalando, if it is the same man that I knew ten years past.” At Malger’s nod he continued. “He was often drunk and had no compunctions about beating those around him.  Even an intemperate man can lead well if he knows something of it, but Baron Dalando is poor even at that.  He’s allowed his land to be conquered twice in the last ten years.  I do not think he is a fit defender for Whitestone.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Malger sucked on his lip as he pondered how to answer, when the usually silent woman at his side spoke. ‘The issue is not whether or not Baron Dalando can be trusted to rule fairly.  There is no question that he cannot!  The issue is that neither Sutthaivasse nor Tournemire should have sovereignty over Whitestone.  It is better for both sides if Whitestone is not a vassal of either.  As we both know,” she looked pointedly at the new Marquis’s men, “too much power in one hand can be a very dangerous thing.  Neither of us have the wisdom to avoid corruption as we should.  We can decide later how best to handle Baron Dalando.  First we need to agree that neither of us shall control the city.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>There was a bit more mulling and debate, but no matter how much minutiae was dredged up, Val always brought matters back to the sovereignty of Whitestone.  Most of the Keepers looked bored at the exchange, though both Kayla and Phil remained firmly engaged, listening with keen ears and watching with studious eyes.  Charles, Jerome, and Sir Autrefois offered their thoughts on the war in the land ten years ago but otherwise left the wrangling to Malger, Val,  Philippe and Vigoreaux. <x-tab>        </x-tab>As the night wore on, Philippe surprised them all by sighing and nodding. “I guess you’re probably right, milord Sutt.  I shouldn’t rule in Whitestone anymore than you.  But I love the city, and I want to be able to visit there whenever I want.  I’ll agree to renounce my sovereign claim to Whitestone, but I’m going to maintain a residence there as part of the agreement.  That and Baron Dalando cannot be left to rule on his own.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“We will attend to that in time, young Marquis,” Malger replied with a beleaguered smile. “For now I think we have reached an accord, and I suggest we leave it at that for the night.  Quarters have been prepared for you and your men.  My men will take you there that you might enjoy a good night’s rest.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Philippe nodded and rose, young face betraying wisdom but also the characteristic hawk-like gaze the late Marquis had also sported. “Am I always to be escorted while in your house, milord Sutt?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Malger narrowed his eyes but kept his smile fixed firmly in place. “Your father was not Handil Sutt, young Lord, and while he was the hero of Breckaris Stand he was still scarcely more popular in Sutthaivasse than my own sire.  They would have raised his head on a pike alongside Handil’s own.  I think you will be grateful for the protection.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>This did not make the boy happy, but it did satisfy.  He bowed and bid Malger a good night, then smiled and clasped hands with Charles. “Thank you for telling me more of my father. I hope to see you again before you leave.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I hope so too, milord Marquis,” the rat replied with a broad grin on his snout. “Good night!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Philippe du Tournemire left with Sir Autrefois and Vigoreaux following behind him.  Only the Keepers and their allies remained at Malger’s table.  Malger smiled to them once they were alone. “Forgive me for keeping you from your beds for a moment longer.  But there is something I wish to say to you all before we each retire.  Your ship will be ready to leave in a few days.  But of myself I will now speak. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“My friends, I hope you can bear with me, as I have many things that I must attend to before quitting this city.” Malger said as he sipped at a dry aperitif provided after all the other courses had been expended.  “As should be very clear now, my father left many things at odds during his conquering, chiefly among them the disposition of the lands he conquered.  I mean to set the chaos of his reign to rights, but I cannot do so swiftly.  In ten days I will be gathering the nobles who remain in the wake of his destruction in this very hall to return much of what was stolen from them.  I will then offer them the choice to remain vassals of Sutthaivasse, which since my father’s death has been prosperous for most, or to regain their independence.”  He sipped lightly at his wine and let that sink in for a few moments as everybody listened in silence.  “I pray that the transition will proceed with as little uproar as possible, and then I plan on abdicating my seat.” <x-tab>        </x-tab> “Abdicate?” Charles chuffed in surprise, raising an eyebrow curiously.  “You hold as much, no - more, power here than Duke Thomas himself!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Power I never envisioned nor wished to attain, Charles. I was the youngest of a half dozen sons and the least worthy of it, in my sire’s view.” The once-minstrel of Metamor explained flatly.  “Nor power I have any intention of keeping, save perhaps for the pleasure of the title I have so unexpectedly attained with their murders.”  A smile crossed his face.  “As such, I intend to leave these lands to those who have skilfully shepherded it into prosperity in the years since.  I cannot hope to better their efforts, and my continued presence, the very name of my house in ascendancy over the conquered people, will only serve to foment further rebellion in people already hard pressed to recover from decades of bloody war.”  Lightly he set down his wine cup and a servant drifted forward smoothly to refill it.  “They deserve the peace and prosperity they have enjoyed, but also the freedom to choose their fate with the secession of the Sutt house from position of overlord to their fate, unless it is by their own will.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Who will you leave behind to oversee your holdings, then, if you do plan on retaining your title and powers as Archduke?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Regent Sicallin has provided well, and I have already petitioned the King to ascend him to the title of Duke of Sutthaivasse.  I should receive his response within the week.  While you were being pored over by my house staff I drafted further messages to him concerning the disposition of the sailors and soldiers taken as Prisoners of War, namely that I do not seek reprisals for their actions while under the taint of Marzac.”  Malger turned his gaze to Prince Phil, who sat to his immediate right, “Prince, I will be drafting a writ of surrender to your navies of all waters south of Sutthaivasse’s immediate reach.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Whales is hardly in any better condition than Sutthaivasse.  Holding that much territory, so far from Whales, will be a trial.” Phil pointed out diplomatically though he smiled at Malger’s gracious offer. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Malger nodded ruefully, “The forests of Marzac should provide more than enough material from which to rebuild our fleets in short order, I trust.  The pirates that once haunted those waters have been utterly decimated and are no longer the threat they once were.  United with what strength remains we should be able to hold the islands.  Perhaps you might offer Sathmore some treaties to keep them off our backs in the interim?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“That would likely be best worked out with Regent Sicallin, as you are set upon elevating him to rule.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I have already discussed this matter with him.  He is amenable to Whalish control of the Marzac straights again.”  Malger paused and laughed softly, “More than amenable, he is desperate to see Whalish ships on the waters to resume trade around the horn again.  I can arrange that he treat with you, in confidence, while your ships are reprovisioned?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I wish to be home again as swiftly as any, Malger.  As long as we can arrange these politics swiftly, yes.  Whales has long seen it her duty to patrol the straits and to keep them open to commerce.  Only the corruption of Marzac forced us to blockade those waters.  With your help, we will open them up again.  But many of our ships are in need of repair before they can make the return journey.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I will see to that.  Any Whalish ships requiring repairs will have full availability of all that Sutthaivasse has to provide, from House Sutt’s own coffers.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Phil’s ears bobbed humorously as he nodded, “You are gracious, Duke.  I seem to remember that it was Sutthaivasse that struck forth with all due haste to support Whales, not the other way around.  With much loss of man and ship alike.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Malger nodded sagely, “On both sides, my Prince, on both sides.  Whales and Sutthaivasse should be brothers, shoulder to shoulder.  My father would have made adversaries of you in his hubris.  May that dark desire forever be set aside, yes?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Indeed, indeed.” Phil raised his goblet in agreement and Malger tapped the silvered rim lightly with his own and both drank.  “To brotherhood.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“To brotherhood; Sutthaivasse, Whales, and Metamor should Thomas be willing.” Malger echoed, “And as diplomatic liaison between Sutthaivasse and Metamor I am confident I can convince him to such a profitable alliance.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I don’t think you’ll have any trouble there,” Kayla predicted as she raised her goblet.  The other Keepers all joined her, glasses raised in a joyful toast. ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias !DSPAM:4b18f7bb262971804284693! </body> </html>