<html> <body> Part 9 Metamor Keep: Keeper's Return By Charles Matthias Feb 11, 708 CR <x-tab>        </x-tab> Murikeer pulled his cloak tightly over his shoulders and stared with his one good eye at the still dark horizon through the thick canopy of trees.  The sun wouldn’t rise past the eastern mountains for another hour.  He’d not been able to sleep very well and so after being roused by unsettling dreams, he’d come out into the cold wintry air to clear his mind.  Murikeer rubbed his forearms against the cold and pondered what it was that stirred so fretfully in his mind.  Was Nocturna trying to convey something to him?  Was Malger? <x-tab>        </x-tab>The last pair of days had been full of many welcome homecomings both at Metamor and the Glen.  He stood upon the high balcony of the Mountain Hearth Inn and tried to dispel his unease.  Fresh snow squeaked under his bare paws and settled upon his shoulders but he did not notice.  But no matter how he tried to marshal his thoughts, no matter how many Glen scouts he studied, he couldn’t escape the feeling that something was wrong. <x-tab>        </x-tab>It was nothing he could state, just a distant something, like a kink in a blanket near his paws between the quilt and the linens.  Not something touching him directly, but still something close.  He’d studied the weave of magic for many long minutes, but could detect nothing unusual. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The skunk mage recalled the barely concealed agony that Charles felt.  He well knew what it was like to lose a loved one.  Llyn had died in front of him.  Charles lost his child while half a world away.  The day he’d come home to his family, a day that should have been filled with rejoicing was marred by that distant death. <x-tab>        </x-tab>But that did not seem to be what gnawed at his mind.  The only thing that seemed to be consistent in his unsettled thoughts were that they always drew back to the one who hadn’t come.  His fellow skunk, Kayla.  How was she doing?  His eyes rove to the southeast and he sighed, breath misting before him in the torch-lit darkness. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Muri?” a familiar voice called behind him a moment after his ears caught the sound of the door from the balcony being drawn open.  He did not turn though he rotated one round tipped ear rearward. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Good morning, Kozi,” he replied as he leaned over the railing outside their room.  His tail stretched out horizontally behind him and Kozaithy brushed it as she crossed over to stand beside him at the railing.  It was the best room at the Inn, one always promised to him by the Innkeeper Jurmas after he’d repaired their cistern and tub two years past, and the only one with such a balcony and complete view of the Glen.  He prized it for its solitude as well. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“It’s not even dawn yet.  Are you well?”  She had a long robe hugged about herself against the cold despite the amulet of warmth and scent masking Murikeer had given her shortly after their first meeting.  Some instinctive responses were never easily quashed.  Her tail emerged from beneath the cut back of the robe, the white fur lost against the snow. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“It’s early enough,” Murikeer replied with a swish of his tail.  Kozaithy walked up to his side and leaned next to him, elbows on the wooden railing. “In a few months the sun will be up even earlier than this.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“In a few months,” Kozi agreed. “But you’ve been up for a long time.  And you have that worried look in your face.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Muri didn’t say anything for several long seconds.  Kozaithy had not known him long, and she’d only seen his true appearance for a minute at their first meeting back in Sathmore.  But she seemed to sense his feelings more adroitly than even Llyn had.  He sighed. “I don’t know what it is, but I think I have to go back to Metamor, and soon.”  He rested his hands upon the winter cold wood of the railing, the tips of his claws digging at the rime ice clinging to it.  “Today.” He said with a frown, “Something’s wrong, and I can’t quite say what, but I need to get back to Metamor swiftly.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>She nodded, slipped one arm around his and leaned her head against his shoulder.  Together they stared at the Glen, sleeping peacefully beneath its blanket of snow in its city of trees. ---------- <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kayla found Rickkter still asleep when she came to his quarters the next morning.  The warmth of her dream, the splendour of the cave, and the majesty of Vissarion the Wise still thronged her mind.  Those scintillating memories danced in her thoughts like light refracted through a crystal chandelier.  Mingling with them was her love for the raccoon and her anxiety over his state. <x-tab>        </x-tab>She brought him fresh broth of lamb from the Keep’s kitchens and set it at his bedside.  It still steamed and just the scent of it made her stomach growl in hunger.  An alligator had insisted she take so much, one she’d almost mistaken for Thalberg but it was only one of the refugees.  Miriam her name was, and she’d already distinguished herself as a member of the Steward’s staff.  Kayla had enjoyed their brief conversation, as for a time it had taken her away worry and fears. <x-tab>        </x-tab>But now as she gazed upon the face of her man, gaunt with flesh sagging against cheek bones, and fur ragged and patchy in spots, all her worries came back.  His breath was consistent, but there was a laboured wheeze underlying each inhalation.  It hadn’t been there before. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kayla wrapped her paws tighter about the dragon hilts and trembled.  Rickkter was still very frail and it pained her deeply to see him so.  Before he’d been struck down in the Belfry by the Marquis, she had always seen him as a reservoir of strength unchallenged and indomitable.  Now he was but a shadow of his former self, a wraith that lingered as a memoriam as the mind forgot. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Could she nurse him back to health?  Not if he proved stubborn and insisted on going about as if nothing were wrong.  He must rest and she needed to be here to make sure he did.  And that meant keeping others who would tax his strength from visiting long and troubling him with affairs he could not see to until he was well.  Better not even to think of them. <x-tab>        </x-tab>She smiled when his nose twitched at the savoury aroma of lamb broth.  A moment later he blinked open his eyes and struggled to sit up in bed.  She leaned over and helped him; he didn’t thank her, only grunted like a surly beast. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I brought you something to help you get your strength back,” she told him after he’d situated himself against the headboard. “Did you sleep well?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Too well,” Rickkter grumbled and stretched.  He stopped and stared at her waist. “You took my swords again!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kayla lowered the tray with the bowl of broth onto his lap and nodded. “They need somebody strong to carry them, Rick.  That’s not you right now.  When you’re ready, they’ll go back to you.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Those swords are dangerous,” Rickkter objected. “You don’t know what they’re capable of.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Oh yes I do,” she assured him as she forced a spoon into his right paw. “I’ve been carrying them for eight months now.  A week or two more will not matter to them or to you.  Your job is to get back your strength, not fret over your swords.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Rickkter’s face sped through several different emotions, not all of them ones Kayla could discern, but the final one, begrudging acceptance, was familiar enough. “You’re right.  I’m just worried about you, that’s all.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kayla kissed him on the brow and felt him tremble beneath her. “There’s nothing to worry about, Rick.  I love you.  Now eat your breakfast before it goes cold.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>At least he could still manage to do that by himself. ---------- <x-tab>        </x-tab>Lord Avery smiled from a distance as he watched Charles putting his children one by one on Malicon’s back.  The roan pony accepted them patiently, even when their little paws grabbed his mane and began tugging as children were wont to do.  Charles beamed at each of them in turn, while Sir Saulius gave them instruction on what they should do while in the saddle.  The other rats waited around the makeshift paddock and shouted encouragement. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“It is so good to see him back,” the Lord of the Glen opined, paws wrapped firmly about an earthenware mug steaming with heated cider. “He may not have lived here long, but he’s every bit as much a Glenner as the rest of us.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“He’s a Long Scout,” Misha pointed out, taking a moment to sip his cider.  The large fluffy grey tail of the squirrel flicked back and forth as snowflakes landed on its tip.  Several times it brushed the fox’s shoulder. “He’s equally at home in the city or the forest.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“True,” Brian Avery admitted, his cheeks inflating and deflating with an exaggerated frown. “But Kimberly and he are going to have to decide where they will live.  Not you or I.  He is not a serf tied to the land, nor is he a sworn vassal.  If ever there was a freeman, it is he.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Misha didn’t rise to the bait. “He has sworn duties to the Longs.  They are his family too.  We know we cannot always be with each other, but... it was Charles and I who found the Long House!  It was made for him as well as for the rest of the Longs.  An unhappy judgement drove him here, but that is past.  He needs time with his family, yes.  But when the time comes, I will ask him to return to Metamor.  I am asking you, for our friendship, do not fight me on this.  The Longs have lost enough in the last two years.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Brian’s tail flicked again and he sipped at his cider.  He did this by dunking his front incisors into the cup and licking them off. “I may not have known Charles as long as you, but I know he is not somebody who can be forced to do anything.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“He is stubborn like that,” the fox agreed.  He lowered his snout over his cup and watched Charles reach down to the ground and then blink when he realized there was no child there.  The rat straightened quickly and laughed with the four children already stacked on Malicon as Saulius began leading the pony around the paddock. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Of course,” the squirrel added with a sly smile as snowflakes melted on top of his head, “with Charles here, it means you Longs visit us more often.  Lars and Jurmas see more business that way.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Misha made the mistake of drinking his cider, and at that remark, coughed everything he’d just drunk.  The spew drenched his snout which he furiously rubbed off with his sleeve while the squirrel laughed. <x-tab>        </x-tab>When the fox had recovered, he glanced at the trees overhead weighed down with winter white and clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “It would be a good idea to have a Long coordinate with you Glen folk; somebody could serve here for three to four months before rotating back to Metamor.  If I could get another half-dozen to a dozen Longs I’d do it in a heartbeat.  I’d like to have more long term assignments throughout the valley but we have only so many.  Nasoj’s last attack really depleted us.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I will support you there if you ever have enough men.” Brian finished his cider and watched the rats.  Off to one side Kimberly and Baerle watched and chatted quietly to themselves.  James the donkey stood close by attempting vainly to garner the opossum’s attention with both word and gesture.  But Baerle, like Kimberly, was too engrossed in conversation and in eyeing Charles to pay him any attention. “What of James?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Misha pondered the donkey and then shook his head. “Surprisingly resourceful when backed against a wall, and he could be a good swordsman, but I don’t think he has the temperament to be a Long.  But I wouldn’t mind the chance to train him some myself.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“What little I’ve heard of their adventures beyond the valley staggers my imagination.” Lord Avery lifted the cup to his snout then frowned when he remembered it was empty. “I’ll never see anything like it.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I hope none of us do.  And I know they haven’t told us everything yet.  I can see it in their eyes.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Aye.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The two stood silently together as the snow fell around them, eyes ever on the rats, the paddock, and the quartet of rat children desperately clinging to the pony’s back.  Malicon trotted in a circle, carefully guided by Sir Saulius, with Charles pacing him and instructing his children in an encouraging and delighted voice.  There was a subtle distance to that voice, but few would ever note it. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“At least now they’re home,” Misha finally said.  He smiled and glanced at the squirrel with one eye. “Now if Rickkter can recover his strength all of my friend swill be back to normal.  Or as normal as they can be!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Brian laughed, a genuine thing that made all of his fur shake sending snow scattering in every direction. “There’s no such thing as normal in Metamor!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Misha barked and shook his head with a grin. “Aye that’s the truth!”  And nothing made it plainer than four rat children squeaking on the back of a cantering pony while various animals on two legs watched with delight. ---------- <x-tab>        </x-tab>The ride back to Metamor was a struggle against a snowfall that grew steadily more insistent as the day wore on.  What had been a simple road soon become two to three hands deep, enough to drag on wagon wheels and slow a horse’s gait.  The five hour ride became six and then seven. Murikeer and Kozaithy finally returned to Metamor gilt in white raiment like a bride on her wedding day.  Both were exhausted and cold desite having only sat upon the same wagon seat for the past several hours.  Not even the skunk’s magic had been able to keep out all of winter’s bite. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Evening would soon press down on them, and while Murikeer’s body wanted nothing more than to savour a hearty stew and mead at the Deaf Mule, his heart still trembled with disquiet.  So he left Kozaithy at the Mule where she could warm herself and her belly and ventured within the ever-shifting walls of the Keep.  He ran one paw across the grey stones, cool, but almost warm as well. “What bothers me so, Kyia?” He’d replayed the events of the last few days in his mind trying not to miss a single detail.  But no matter what he saw, the riddle that he knew must be there continued to elude him. <x-tab>        </x-tab>He sighed and began walking through the passages, no destination set in mind.  He saw quite a few Keepers on errands, but none said more than a customary salutation.  After a very brief walk, the passage turned and Rickkter’s door stood before him cast in subtle shadows unlike the rest of the hallway which glowed with warm lamplight.  The oddity drew him as a lodestone. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Without thinking to knock he tried to lift the latch only to find it secure, the inner bolt shot.  His whiskers twitched curiously, as Rickkter seldom bothered with the bolt unless he was working with potentially dangerous magic.  He relied on his wards to keep the random caller from intruding upon his chambers.  Those wards had long ago been altered to let Murikeer pass and did not work to steer him away.  With a thread of magic he extended his touch through the wood of the door, weaving it between the tight nest of wards, and tried the bolt.  He found that it resisted his efforts and, though both bolt and latch rattled, neither released the door.  With a scowl at the door he raised his hand and knocked. <x-tab>        </x-tab>After a moment he heard the pad and click of footsteps coming to the door.  The bolt rattled back and the latch lifted but the door only opened a handspan.  A the monochromatic muzzle of a skunk poked through the gap and dark eyes looked out at him.  Kayla smiled slightly as she saw him but did not open the door further. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Good evening, Muri.  I thought you’d gone to Glen Avery with the others.” Her eyes fixed upon his own and did now waver, taking no notice of his damp clothes and disarrayed fur. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Good evening, Kayla.  And yes, I had, but I just returned.  What little I could do there for now I have done.  I expect I shall return there sometime after Habakkuk’s funeral.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kayla’s eyes lowered and a deep sadness filled them. “He was the strongest of us.” She looked away for a moment, her flesh trembling beneath the fur. “I’ll never understand how he could face what he did and not fall into despair.  He loved to the very end.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Murikeer tried to glance past Kayla but could see nothing of the room beyond. “How is Rick?  Can I come in and see him?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“No,” she replied without hesitation.  The vehemence in her tone startled him as did the unexpected hardness in her eyes. “He is not well right now and needs his rest.  It would be better if you came back in a few days when he’s regained his strength.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“But surely a few minutes will not disturb him.” He did not mention the fact that, until her return, it had fallen to Misha and Murikeer to attend him when he would tolerate their presence. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I’m sorry, Muri.  But I can’t let you come in.  He’s very weak.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Then perhaps I could do something for him.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The skunk snorted derisively. “What?  Fashion an illusion of health for him?  No, your art won’t help him right now.  What he needs is rest, good food, and to be left in peace.  I brought the first, and he’s now taking the second.  Your coming in will deny him the third.” She smiled to him, an act that seemed almost pretense. “I’ll let him know you came to see him, Muri.  Hopefully in a few days he’ll be strong enough again.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Murikeer thought he might say something more, but nodded and stepped back from the door.  Now was not the time to force this issue. “Thank you, Kayla.  I will come back another time.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>She closed the door seconds after the words had left his tongue.  Murikeer took a deep breath and opened his eyes to the magic around him.  Apart from the dark smear of the curse which lingered in the very air, the magic of Kyia herself which shone like a brilliant pearl all around, there was a tight knot of spells guarding Rickkter’s door.  He could see nothing beyond, a testament to the number of defensive wards his mentor had erected.  He’d need to come back for a closer look. <x-tab>        </x-tab>He tied a knot in the cords of magic outside the door.  Murikeer would know when Kayla left, if even she did, and that was when he’d come back.  Something was wrong; very wrong.  Kayla was never this way, never so distant or dismissive.  He couldn’t explain it what it might mean; had the journey to Marzac truly changed her?  Or was it something else altogether? <x-tab>        </x-tab>Murikeer would learn soon enough.  ---------- <x-tab>        </x-tab>Goldmark lifted his legs one at a time, until all four had risen from the snow and settled back down inside.  He raised his arms to the falling white as it settled in his fur like gossamer lace. “It’s getting thicker,” he said with some worry. “And I don’t think it’s going to stop anytime soon.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Charles grunted and hoisted his daughters in his arms. “I’m afraid you’re right.” Little Bernadette and Baerle wrapped their arms about his neck and rubbed their faces against his chest.  He glanced at Saulius who held his sons. “And it’s getting cold.  Time to take them inside.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Aye.” Saulius held the two boys a little closer and all of the rats hurried back into the Matthias home beneath the massive redwood.  Baerle the opossum already had a fire crackling in the hearth.  Charles and Saulius deposited the children before it, and they huddled up close, noses twitching and whiskers flicking away melting snow. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“How’s it looking out there?” Kimberly asked as she carried in a kettle of tea to steep. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Not good,” Charles said with a sigh. “We’ll have another three or four hands of snow by morning.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“And when is Habakkuk’s funeral?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Two days from now,” Charles replied.  He glanced at Julian who sat next to his children warming his paws. “I think we’ll need to head back first thing tomorrow morning.  Will that be a problem for you?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Julian shook his head. “It shouldn’t be.  Just wake us early and we’ll have everything ready to go in an hour.” He smiled a little and gently put a paw on little Charles’s back to brush a bit of snow off. “We’ve got one more surprise in store that I think will help with all this snow.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Oh?  Never mind.  I’ll wait until tomorrow.” Charles stretched and glanced at his friends and family. “Well everyone, it looks like we’re going to be spending a couple nights at Metamor Keep.  Let’s pack enough for the trip.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Metamor Keep!” his children shouted as one. “Yay!!” They jumped to their paws and scampered up the steps as fast as they could go.  Charles saw four tails bouncing up and down disappear up the stairs. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kimberly sighed and put the kettle over the fire. “You’d better tell the rest of your friends too.  I can take care of things here.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Charles put one paw on her shoulder and drew her into a quick embrace. “Thank you, my Lady.  I promise I won’t stay for any drinks!” The Longs and the his travelling companions had all gone to Lars’s place for food and drink.  He hadn’t been there since he’d returned and both his tongue and belly greatly desired one of the brewer’s many specialties. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kimberly smiled and kissed his nose. “I know you won’t.  Now hurry back.  I want to show you the packs we made for the children.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>With that thought in mind, Charles leapt back into the snowy evening his toes barely touching the heaps the heavens had dropped on them. ---------- <x-tab>        </x-tab>Her inchoate desire to see the black dragon again was rewarded even before she fully realized that was what she wanted.  Kayla found herself soon after sleep in the ancient cavern replete with beauty and colour of such surprising vivacity that her black and white fur felt drab and dirty by comparison.  Surrounding her were the coils of her dragons, Clymaethera and Trystathalis.  They purred in their repose, wings folded beneath domes replete with hanging white crystals that glimmered from the light all around.  Kayla smiled and felt at ease. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Vissarion remained by the underground azure pool, his black coils framing it and his scales scintillating in its mellifluous light.  Kayla’s heart lifted with her body as her paws carried her over stones that glowed with her steps toward that wondrous dragon.  His golden eyes were warm like burnished bronze and she could see herself reflected within them.  His maw parted, and a brilliant blue tongue darted forth, presaging a long sibilant sigh of contentment. “Thou returned to me, Kayla.  What do thee wish of me this night?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kayla put her paws on the end of his snout and felt the warmth from his nostrils course through her fur.  His scales were hard and smooth like velvet. “The man I love, Rickkter, is very weak.  I am frightened for him, Vissarion!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“But I can see that thou are tending him.  Will he not recover?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I...” Kayla lowered her snout to his sharp beak. “I don’t know.  He was doing well when I returned, but now he’s so weak and I fear the strain may be too much for him.  You said you could help me.  Can you help Rickkter?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Vissarion said nothing at first.  Kayla listened to the confidant purring breath of her dragons, and the drip-drop of water into the pool.  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see faint ripples spreading over its surface, diffusing the glow from the rocks beneath until it an azure nimbus spread from the rock wall to the dragon’s paws. <x-tab>        </x-tab>And then the foremost paw lifted and gently caressed Kayla’s back, petting down her fur but stopping before reaching her tail. “Fear not, Kayla.  For thee I shall do whatever I can for Rickkter.  I can give him strength enough.  But thou must place me within him.  This will be the only gift I can give.  He will have the strength of a dragon within him.  But then I will leave thee.  Is this what thou wish of me?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kayla shuddered and leaned into his might paw, not even sensing the prick of his massive claws.  He was so gentle with her she could not help but know he was wise and kind.  She nodded. “He would love to have such strength.  I will place you in him, but how?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I will teach thee what must be done.  But let none interfere or it could kill him; this is very dangerous.  Do thou understand me?” Vissarion’s voice deepened, booming already, it now made her bones tremble to their marrow. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kayla took a deep breath, the warmth of his head filling her cheek and neck. “I will trust you.  Teach me what I must do for the man I love!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>And in that vault of colours and sinews old and ever-growing, Vissarion the wise spoke of the power to save the one she loved.  The words burned into her mind as fierce as a brand in flesh. ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias !DSPAM:4b9987f0138931459720162! </body> </html>