<html> <body> 4! Metamor Keep: Investigating Calamity By Charles Matthias <x-tab>         </x-tab>It was well into the afternoon before Kashin reached the confrontation in the ancient sacrilegious temple beneath Yesulam.  He described the behaviour of the Sword of Yajakali with distinct distaste, and utter horror at the Blood Bound who had been drained by it.  Several of the mages cringed at the utter depravity of Jothay drenched in his own blood like a gorged leech.  But the crowning moment of confusion for the Marigund mages came not when Kashin described how he and Nemgas were split by the touch of Yajakali’s blade — his previous discourse with Bartholomew on the subject of Cenziga had prepared them for that miracle — but when he spoke of the man who slew the Shrieker. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“You have to be lying,” Sir Rivers said with an affected air of detached nonchalance. “We all know the Ecclesia hates magic and the Questioners moreso than most.  It could not have been this Questioner Akaleth who slew the Shrieker.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“But it was,” Kashin replied. “I witnessed this with my own eyes.  As did Sir Czestadt.  And the very man who did this is now waiting in your antechamber.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“How could he possibly have done that?” Chalcus asked in alarm. “He has no training and Ainador is dead to all magic.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Not true,” Kashin shook his head. “The power of the Sondeck works anywhere in the Holy Land.  It is one of the reasons the Ecclesia has long recognized and encouraged their order in Sonngefilde.  However their power works, it must be much the same way for Father Akaleth.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“But to kill a Shrieker with light?” Massenet asked, dubious, but not as angered as the other two. “That seems rather unlikely.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Kashin glanced at the man with incredulous eyebrows on his left. “And how many Shriekers have the mages of Marigund killed?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Massenet’s eyebrows climbed down to nearly obscure his eyes. “We have never been set upon by such evils, at least, not since the days of the Guild’s founding.  Ancient records suggest that at least one may have been seen in the distant past when the elves still ruled this land.  But no, we’ve not killed any.  But we do have several accounts of them and how they were killed.  Including some recent ones from Metamor Keep in the last year.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>This took Kashin by surprise.  The Yeshuel shifted his left stump so that it was covering his chest. “Truly?  That I didn’t know.  But that’s beside the point.  I am telling you what I saw.  And I saw Father Akaleth kill a Shrieker by striking it with light, light that he created.  I do not know how he did this, or why it worked.  I only know that it did.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The others wrangled over the question for some time, with Elizabeth reporting on what they knew of the Shriekers and how those at Metamor were killed.  Comparisons were made, and all noted the way Shriekers seemed to deaden light.  By the time they had finished debating all of them seemed satisfied that what Kashin was describing was at least plausible.  Kashin took advantage of the pause to eat some of the cheese and cakes. <x-tab>        </x-tab>An hour later, after he’d described freeing the Patriarch from Marzac’s taint and the strange ghostly visit from Qan-af-årael after the Winter Solstice he admitted to having no further knowledge of events of Marzac.  The mages thanked him and Elizabeth offered to escort him back to the antechamber.  Kashin was delighted to accept.  He did not mind their presence or telling his story.  He just did not like the sorts of questions that they often asked and the ever present but never explicitly voiced suggestion that those from Yesulam were ignorant children in need of instruction from their betters at the Marigund Mage Guild. <x-tab>        </x-tab>He was so quick to leave that he did not in fact notice the look of pure poison he received from one of the other six mages as they dispersed. ---------- <x-tab>         </x-tab>This mage continued alone into another part of the tower where they were met by a friend.  This friend, short of stature but keep of appearance, fox-like and angular, cast a pair of simple runes that stilled the air around them. His eyes narrowed. “What did you learn?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“It seems it will be more difficult that we thought in getting to the Questioner.  Apparently he has magical powers as do both the Yeshuel and Yesbearn with him.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The short fellow frowned. “We are still going to kill him though.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Of course!  That hasn’t changed.  If the Caial won’t uphold their own laws then we must.  But we must be cautious.  If we’re caught...” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The second mage blanched and shook his head. “We must be careful.  There are going to be many who will want him dead.  But his magical abilities frighten me.” He pursed his lips and after a moment’s consideration added. “I’ll slip into the Cardinal’s palace tonight and take a closer look at them while they sleep.” He held up one hand to forestall his companion’s objection. “I have done this before.  I won’t be seen and I won’t leave any magical traces either.  Will you have a chance to question him today?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Not likely.  The Yeshuel knew quite a bit more than we anticipated.  None of the others want to speak with the Questioner either.  That bladeslinging Yesbearn is next.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“He may be a problem,” the second mage admitted.  He rubbed his chin with his fingers for a few moments then reached a decision. “Return to tower and find out whatever you can about their abilities.  Under the pretext of how they used them against Marzac.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I expect others will want to know that as well.” <x-tab>        </x-tab> “True.  Return then and once we know more we can decide how this Questioner will die.”  The first mage nodded and turned back down the corridor.  The second mage snapped his fingers and the shimmer of air dissipated.  He turned the other direction, glanced out a window at the sombre early evening sky, and stopped to admire the many birds nesting on the rooftops. ---------- <x-tab>         </x-tab>Sir Czestadt sat stiffly in the chair, his eyes and demeanor sullen.  The mages clustered around and after Demarest introduced each, he added, “I have been told that you do not natively speak our tongue and that you have some difficulty with it.  I have cast a spell so that your words will be comprehensible to our ears; we are not familiar with your native tongue and this is the only prudent way to ensure we can speak to whatever length and breadth we desire.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>This only irritated the Yesbearn. “How am I to learn your tongue properly if you do not give me occasion to practice it?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“You may practice it all you wish.  But to expedite our conversation, we have chosen to employ the magic at our disposal.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“It is an insult.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“It is expedient and already accomplished.  No magic has been cast on you, only on ourselves.  You will hear your words exactly as you speak them.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Elizabeth offered a sympathetic smile. “We understand it makes you uncomfortable, Sir Czestadt, but this is really for our benefit, not yours.  Please, allow us this privilege.  Speak as you would, consider your words as you would, and do not concern yourself for how we hear them.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The knight said nothing for several long seconds.  But at last, with a heavy sigh he nodded. “Very well.  Employ your parlour trick.  What do you wish to know of me?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Massenet began the questioning, the pipe between his lips bobbing up and down as he spoke. “We understand that you were once of the Kankoran order and that whilst among them you learned how to manipulate swords.  Tell us of this.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Czestadt snorted. “I am a blademaster.  No sword can kill me.  I can touch them with my will and bend them to it.  As you can see,” he gestured at the pink scar running down the side of his face, “I have been sliced and skewered by swords before.  The wounds always heal.  And that is all I shall say of my abilities and of the Kankoran who taught me these abilities.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Surely there is more you can tell us, such as how you studied and learned t reach for them,” Chalcus asked.  His own scars, not as deep, glimmered in the brightly dancing witchlight. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I will not reveal any secrets of my former order,” Czestadt declared. “Would you wish a former member of your guild to speak freely of your secrets?” Chalcus grimaced and shook his head.  The others said nothing. “So neither shall I.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“But you left the Kankoran,” Massenet said, “And from what we understand they are not forgiving of those who leave them.” Czestadt said nothing.  The pipe lowered slowly with the fading of his friendly smile. “You joined the Driheli.  We know they are a knightly order based from Stuthgansk, one of the principle cities in eastern Sonngefilde.  We do not know much.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“And you shall remain ignorant.  I am here to tell you of Marzac.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“And we are coming to it,” Massenet assured him. “We merely wish to make sure that we have the chain of events leading to your involvement correct.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Czestadt nodded after a moment’s pause. “Then I will tell you this.  I left the Kankoran a dozen years ago and joined the Driheli because I came to believe in the truth of Eli, Yahshua, and the Ecclesia.  I advanced amongst the knights and became Knight Templar.  When Bishop Jothay of Eavey summoned us to Galendor to hunt Kashin, I took a dozen knights and commanders with me and sailed north.  I sent the knights to scour the Flatlands for clues while I remained near Marilyth.  I learned that Kashin had gone to the distant east and intercepted him southwest of the Vysehrad.  We fought, he gave me this scar with a blade that could not be seen, and then after rising from my seeming death, I returned to Yesulam and came face to face with Jothay for the first time.  And it.  That sword that was not a sword.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“The blade of Yajakali,” Diomedra finished for him. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Aye.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Tell us more of what you felt in that blade.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Czestadt described at length his impression of the sword, from its appearance with the eyes to the way it deadened everything around it.  The mages listened attentively and asked probing questions.  Every time Czestadt suspected they were asking more about his abilities than bout the sword he refused to answer.  But after a while their focus settled on Yajakali’s blade and Jothay’s uses of it rather than on how Czestadt could feel what he felt. <x-tab>        </x-tab>They were particularly interested in the Blood Bound, but Czestadt could only describe what they looked like, smelled like, and acted like; he’d never seen how they were made, but Akaleth had.  Merely mentioning his charge made several of them, notably Sir Rivers, scowl fiercely.  The nobleman was especially hostile in his questions and Czestadt kept a close eye on him.  No matter how much Elizabeth and the Cardinal vouchsafed their hospitality, he knew this man was a threat.  Nor was he the only one that put him on edge; he was only the most obvious about his contempt. <x-tab>        </x-tab>He then described Zagrosek who he later learned was the man who killed Patriarch Akabaieth.  Massenet was particularly interested in what the rogue Sondecki’s role was in the events, but not a one of them didn’t appear at least a little curious.  Even Sir Rivers couldn’t deny that he wanted to know who this assassin was and what he was doing in Yesulam.  Czestadt felt no compunction in revealing all he knew. <x-tab>        </x-tab>They did not evince surprise at anything else he mentioned until he came to the moment when Father Akaleth defeated the Shrieker.  This they treated very skeptically.  Finally, after a rather sneering question from the blonde Diomedra, he slammed his fist into the arm of his chair. “Enough!  You insult me and Father Akaleth with your refusal to believe.  I have told you what happened.  He destroyed the Shrieker with light, a light he used to guide us out of that infernal pit.  I will not hear him gainsaid by effete cowards like you!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“How dare you!” Sir Rivers leapt to his feet enraged.  Chalcus also snarled, and Massenet fumed, while Elizabeth shook her head and Diomedra smirked in amusement.  Bartholomew glowered and Demarest’s face purpled in apoplexy.  But it was the noble who acted fastest.  He strode before Czestadt and slapped him full across the face with the back of his hand. “How dare you speak such things!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Czestadt grabbed him by the wrist, twisted it behind his back, and slammed the man to his knees without ever shifting in his seat.  He then pushed him forward so that he fell against the table.  Chalcus put a beam of light that shimmered but held steady against his neck. “I would not do such things if I were you,” he said with a smile that begged Czestadt to continue. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Sir Rivers got back up, dusted himself off, and lifted his hands to strike magically, when Elizabeth took him by the shoulder and drew him back. “Do not think it, Alexander.  He is a guest.  He needs to learn better manners, but he is a guest.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“You insult my charge and expect manners?” Czestadt asked, neck perfectly still against Chalcus’s evanescent rod. “I do not suffer such things lightly.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I think,” Diomedra said in a sultry voice, “that you are used to command and not used to others contradicting you or casting doubt on your words.  You don’t like it.  And you think us cowards because of it.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“You are cowards because you have never faced what I have.  My words are a toy to you, a plaything that you are interested in for now but will soon lose interest in.” Czestadt let his eyes, dark and intent, turn on Chalcus.  The scarred mage glared back at him unflinching. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“You’d be surprised what we have faced,” Sir Rivers said in a hoarse whisper. “Very, very surprised.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Czestadt lifted one hand and touched the scar on his face, all the while avoiding Chalcus’s spell. “I have been mortally wounded several times in my life.  How many can say that?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Elizabeth gaze Rivers a warning glance, and then scowled at Chalcus. “Put that away.  He is not going to harm us.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I’m not sure about that,” Chalcus replied, eyes narrowing. “I think he’s begging for a fight.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Czestadt smirked. “I have never begged for anything in my life.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Not even your life?” Chalcus asked, his voice both hostile and curious. <x-tab>        </x-tab> “Never.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Demarest growled. “Chalcus!” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The scarred mage grimaced but drew back his spell.  The searing light vanished leaving behind air crisp to the nose.  Czestadt wanted to rub his neck to feel the skin but kept his hands still.  He was not going to show the slightest hint of weakness before these mages. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Sir Rivers rubbed his arm where the knight had gripped him.  His voice reeked with disgust. “I presume we will be able to continue this conversation without further imprecations?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Czestadt did not look at him, but kept his gaze on their leader Demarest. “It would be my hope that you can restrain yourselves from calling into question the character of my companions and I.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Demarest was unmoved. “You would do well to return the favour.  None here appreciate your words.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“I don’t care.” He leaned forward slightly. “You do not wish us to be here.  I will be content to leave. Continue your questions and as long as you do not doubt my words we will end soon.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Both Rivers and Chalcus looked eager to determine whether Czestadt was telling the truth about being invulnerable to blades.  Massenet and Diomedra were not much happier.  Demarest attempted to hide his loathing, but did not succeed.  Bartholomew had regained his composure which meant that of the seven mages only he and Elizabeth appeared calm.  And it was she who spoke next. “Very well, Sir Czestadt.  We will move along.  After the Shrieker died, what next came to pass?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>He next described the leeches that had gorged on foul blood but only Elizabeth asked any questions.  Then he related Kashin’s confrontation with the evil inhabiting Patriarch Geshter.  This too evinced little surprise.  It wasn’t until he described the horror he felt on the morning of the Winter’s Solstice when he felt the evil of the Sword flare in his mind and revel in a triumph that never came to pass that the others asked any further questions.  But these were all brief, and when he reached their conclusion, they thanked him and assured him they were done for the evening. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Czestadt walked back to the antechamber with Elizabeth rushing to keep up.  Somebody had brought Akaleth an old book which he was reading while half-reclining on the floor.  Kashin busied himself with stretching.  Both looked up when they returned. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Elizabeth glanced down at Akaleth, her eyes lifting in surprise at the book, but she said nothing of it. “It is late, and we have much to discuss amongst ourselves.  Father Akaleth, we shall begin with you in the morning.  The Caial will escort you back to the Cardinal’s palace.  Do not go anywhere else.” She said coldly then turned and swept back up the hall.  The double doors shut behind her without the touch of any hand. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Well I see both of you have made many new friends today,” Akaleth said with a faint laugh. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Czestadt and Kashin looked at each other, then at the priest, and then back at each other.  Both of them laughed.  Akaleth rose and held the book under one arm as the trio left the Mage Guild under the watchful eye of the Caial. ---------- <x-tab>         </x-tab>Evening closed over Marigund like a velvet fist.  The sky was clear but dark, while the city streets were lit in bright profusion.  Still, numerous alleys were wreathed in shadow, shielded from the light by the buildings on either side.  Along one of these crept a solitary figure draped in a common black cloak.  His eyes remained fixed on the Cardinal’s palace across the street.  He bent down and lowered one arm.  A sleek rat scampered down, small claws holding firm to the richer cloth beneath. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Just before stepping onto the ground, the rat turned back his head and with beady black eyes stared at the man.  A voice, small but loyal, chirped in the man’s mind.  I’m supposed to watch and listen to the three foreigners.  Is there anything you want me to learn, master? <x-tab>        </x-tab>The man smiled and gently ran a finger down the rat’s head and back.  One paw lifted and held at the finger.  The man’s thoughts were equally gently.  Whatever they discuss.  And watch the priest most especially.  I want to learn of his intentions and his habits.  Whatever you see or hear, tell me. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The rat’s whiskers flicked back and forth. I will, master.  And then he scampered to the pavement and ran along the alley, hugging the right wall, before disappearing within a small sewer opening.  The man straightened and prayed for his familiar’s safety. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The rat’s name was Boots.  He’d been a gift to a lonely child who had always thought his white paws on an otherwise solid black body had made it look like he was wearing boots.  He’d liked the boy who gave him little tidbits of corn, seeds, cheese, and bread, and who let him crawl over him to get warm on those cold days.  He did not understand the fullness of time, but his master had told him that after three years, that precocious boy, in an attempt to keep his precious Boots alive, had used a familiar spell that bound them together. <x-tab>        </x-tab>And Boots could now claim, these twenty years later, to be the oldest rat alive if he cared enough about such things.  That it brought delight to his master was enough for him. <x-tab>        </x-tab>He did not understand why these foreigners upset his master so much, but they must be truly vile to do so.  He did as he was asked, scurrying through the sewers in order to safely cross the street.  The stench was not as bad in this district as it was on the outskirts of the city.  Still, when he reached the other end and emerged next to the Cardinal’s palace, he scrubbed his fur off as best he could just as his master had asked. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Boots climbed the chimney stones all the way onto the roof.  From there he scoured the stones along the roof until he found one lose and scurried in underneath.  He could feel his master’s comforting presence with him always, knowing that he was just across the street and wouldn’t let anything happen to him.  That trust kept him pushing through the darkness with his nose, sniffing until he finally found a pathway through the attic that led back behind the internal woodwork.  He followed this until at last he emerged into one of the upper rooms. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The room was empty but for a bed that had not been used in some time.  Boots followed the wall to the edge of the hallway.  He could smell no animals in the house, only humans.  He heard voices coming down the hallway and followed after them. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The hallway opened up into a larger room.  Boots stood on the balcony overlooking a warm gathering place where the Cardinal entertained guests.  Boots had met the Cardinal before and felt a bit of delight and a half expectation of some tasty morsel as the man was wont to give friendly animals.  But with him were the foreigners too.  They didn’t look at all like anybody in the city, and his master had made sure to describe them in pretty good detail.  Two of them had darker skin while the lighter skinned one had a pink scar on one side of his face.  And the priest was the smallest of the three.  Boots wanted to hiss at him but his master had wanted him to keep quiet. <x-tab>        </x-tab>So Boots settled down to listen. I’m here, master. <x-tab>        </x-tab>His master’s strong voice was there immediately.  What are they doing?  What are they saying? <x-tab>        </x-tab> They are eating and... <x-tab>        </x-tab>“You should control your tongue better,” the Cardinal lectured the scarred one. “You are here as their guests.  No one else wants you here.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“They may call me whatever they wish,” the scarred one replied. “But I will not tolerate them impugning the honour of my companions.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“They drew weapons on you!” the Cardinal snapped. “Are you trying to goad them into a fight?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“No.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Then what are you trying to do?” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“To ensure the truth is what they hear.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Then speak the truth!  You do not have to make them believe you.  The Guild will believe whatever it wants to believe.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>Boots relayed this back to his master as quickly as he was able.  His master listened but said nothing. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The priest began to nod. “There is truth in what his eminence suggests.  We cannot make them see things from our point of view.  We can only tell them the truth and trust that the truth will be all that is left after they have finished wrangling with our testimony.” He shrugged his shoulders but his face remained placid.  Boots had never seen a human who kept their face so still. “We aren’t going to learn anything from them anyway, so we needn’t bother trying.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>The Cardinal had no trouble making his face do strange things.  Boots recognized the look as one of discomfort. “Thank you, Father Akaleth.  I did not expect you to agree with me.” <x-tab>        </x-tab>“The truth can come from any mouth.  This much I have learned in the last year.” He shook his head, the faintest hint of chagrin coming over him.  Boots passed that along too. <x-tab>        </x-tab>I wonder why that would embarrass him.  His master’s voice was confused, but he said nothing more.  <x-tab>        </x-tab>The three guests, the Cardinal, and another priest whom Boots had seen with the Cardinal in times past continued to converse for another hour.  Boots faithfully reported all he heard.  His master asked a few questions about what the individuals were doing, but apart from eating some bread and cheese — which smelled very savoury and made all his whiskers twitch eagerly — they remained seated during the course of their conversation. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Eventually they did disperse, and Boots had to risk crawling along the banister at the edge of the balcony until he found a good grip on a wooden door frame and was able to scale down to the floor.  This he only did after all five of them had departed and the lamps extinguished.  He followed their scents out into the hallway below, and after turning down a side corridor, he found where each was sleeping. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Whose room is which? <x-tab>        </x-tab>I will learn, master. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Boots had no trouble squeezing underneath the doorjambs and peering into each room.  All of the rooms were still lit so he was exceedingly cautious.  The first room was that of the other priest who lived in the city.  He squeezed back under the door and ran in zigzags until he reached the next one.  Beneath this was the scarred foreigner.  And he did see Boots!  But the fellow didn’t seem to care so much as glare at the rat.  Boots froze for a single moment, fear clutching his little heart, but at the firm assurance of his master, he was able to turn and made his escape. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Boots waited a few minutes before trying the next door.  This belonged to the one-armed man.  He knelt in prayers like master did each night.  Boots left him alone. <x-tab>        </x-tab>The last room he checked held the foreign priest.  He too was saying prayers.  But in his barely audible words, Boots heard many things that he dutifully passed back to his master.  The part that most delighted his master was the very end. <x-tab>        </x-tab>“Eli, forgive my anger and my pride.  Grant me the grace to be free from these terrible temptations.  I cannot free myself from them and need your grace.  Pour it upon me, O Eli.  Through thy Son, Yahshua.” <x-tab>        </x-tab> Haughty. His master’s voice exuded delight.  That is very good to know.  Come back home, Boots.  We’ve learned enough tonight. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Boots wasted no time darting back through the large and frightening hallways, up the door, up and over the banisters to the balcony, down another long hall, and then back up through the cobwebbed and cluttered attic space to the roof.  A light patter of rain was falling.  Boots shook off before climbing down the chimney.  The road was empty so he ran straight across.  Once back in the alley he shook again and followed his master’s scent. <x-tab>        </x-tab>His master was at the very rear of the alley next to a door into the adjacent building.  Boots ran up to him and leapt into his waiting arms.  Those warm arms cradled him and Boots held on with his little claws.  The cloak drew over him and he knew he was warm and safe again.  Did I find everything you wanted, Master? <x-tab>        </x-tab> Everything you could, Boots.  Thank you.  I have some bread and cheese waiting back home for you. <x-tab>        </x-tab>Oh thank you, master!  I love you. <x-tab>        </x-tab>And I love you, my little Boots! <x-tab>        </x-tab>The dark figure took his rat back through the maze of buildings to the Mage Guild and their home.  The rat dreamt of the sweet bread and cheese that awaited him.  The man pondered how to use the Questioner’s weaknesses against him all the while stroking his beloved familiar and friend. ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias !DSPAM:4c97e91c230481345131859! </body> </html>