<html> <body> And here's Part 2. Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold By Charles Matthias March 2, 708 CR It was only a day after the Bishop had left and already the air warmed with expectant Spring. Rickkter was grateful for it as it gave him an opportunity to stretch his legs and weary muscles with a good long walk around Metamor and Keeptowne early in the morning before the bustle of the city crowded the streets with millions of cries, concerns, and consternations. Which made it all the more easy to enjoy the crisp but not unpleasant air and the woman at his side whose musk gave it a sharp and unmistakable tang. Rickkter nuzzled the top of Kayla’s head and she leaned into him. “It is good to be able to do this again,” he mused wistfully. “Seems like forever.” “Just nine months,” she replied with a faint laugh. “At least you’ve healed completely.” “Took long enough,” he muttered, but laughed a moment later. “No thanks to you!” Kayla gave his chest a little shove and tried to laugh, but the memory of the evil dragon inside her mind was still very frightening. She couldn’t help but think of her friends who each might face a similar corruption. Things had been so quiet in the three weeks since that at times it was hard even to remember that there was danger still to be confronted. Life at Metamor was peaceful for once, and with Duke Thomas married, the excitement and good cheer was infectious. It took effort to fret. “But you’re better now, and we’re together,” Kayla added. “Sometimes it feels like nothing’s changed, but I know it has.” “Well, you are working for the bat again,” the raccoon pointed out. “You’re falling back into your old routines and seeing familiar things. It can’t be helped.” The skunk nodded, long tail curling behind Rickkter as they passed by a handful of merchants arranging their wares in the market square. They followed the wide stone road toward the castle now, its tall towers still dark in the early morning hours. The topmost reaches shone brilliantly, a testament of the sun’s imminent rise over the mountains. Narrow wisps of clouds drifted north so high in the sky their undersides were bathed in gold. Walking toward them through the marketplace from the direction of the Keep were three figures equally remarkable in their appearance. The most obvious was the white gryphon whose golden and black eyes arrested all who dared to meet them. His wings folded against his back and around his chest and sides a harness of tough leather and hide was attached. A saddle of some sort nestled between his wings and against the feathery mane between neck and shoulders. Next to the gryphon was a small man with ruddy cheeks, long arms, and a dark mop of hair on his head over small almost curdled ears. He rested one hand on the gryphon’s right shoulder unafraid. He dressed in heavy woolen jerkin, trousers, and buskins, all lined with fur. He carried a small pack on his back with a pair of ice picks holstered on his belt. On the opposite side of the gryphon was a tall creature dressed very lightly in silken blues and greens that did little to provide warmth. Long black hair was held back in a tight braid and pointed ears framed it ever so gently. Behind these emerged the exquisite ivory handle of his sword, and before them were high angular cheeks, tinged with grey, that were only the last touches to show this was no man. Nevertheless, in the way he walked, dressed, and appeared, his was the acme of grace and strength. The reed that bends but does not break. Kayla almost jumped from Rickkter’s arms when she saw them. “Good morning! I’ve barely seen any of you this last week! Where have you been?” She hugged both Binoq and Åelf, but the Nauh-kaee she only smiled toward. Guernef settled on his haunches and turned his black beak eastward. “We have been preparing provisions.” “Provisions?” Rickkter asked as he walked in behind the excited skunk. “For our journey back to the mountains,” Abafouq replied with a diffident moue. “And Andares’s return to the woods.” Kayla’s face fell and she looked from one to the other for some denial. They’d only just arrived in Metamor! She told them that too. Andares sighed and shook his head. “This is not our home, but yours. This day had to come. We shall each return to our homelands. If matters are well, we may each visit again. I dearly hope that it will be so. Any journey through the lands of man is one I welcome. More so one that will return me to this land and to my friends.” “But why so soon?” “There are affairs of our own that need tending to,” Abafouq admitted with some displeasure. “It has been almost a year since we left our home, our cave in the mountains and I know that Guernef at least is needed amongst his people.” Kayla could hear the reluctance in the Binoq’s voice and looked at him firmly. “But what of you? Surely you do not need to go back to that place? You are well loved here by your friends.” Abafouq nodded, keenly aware of the Nauh-kaee’s intent gaze which captured him whole within a single pupil. “I am, and I have found a few pursuits to tend my time. Jessica’s friends did need quite a few pyrocks for instance! But I know I cannot stay just yet. As hard as it may be, and I am thinking it will be very hard indeed, I must at least see whether I can return to Qorfuu and redeem my name. If I cannot...” He swallowed heavily and then tried again, “If I cannot, then if Guernef permits, I would like to return here.” “Permits?” Rickkter asked in confusion. “I thought you were friends, not master and slave!” “It is not as you say, master and slave. Rather, it is more complicated. Friends we are, and friends I hope we will always be. But when I was dying, he saved my life and took me in from the cold. For that I owe him my life, whatever is remaining. I will not, cannot leave him unless he bids me.” Rickkter frowned but nodded slowly. “I have heard of a life debt being forever, but it is rare. Still, I think I understand.” He turned his gaze on Guernef, and though he glared in strong disapproval, the Nauh-kaee did not regard him any differently than before. “You ought to let him return if that is his choice.” “His path may take him not to the earth,” Guernef replied with a sharp click. “Of that we shall see.” Kayla wasn’t sure what the Nauh-kaee was suggesting but it unsettled her faintly. She thought for a moment to mention it but a soft assurance that all would be well stilled her concern. Instead she asked, “Where have you gathered your provisions? I see nothing on you.” “In the foothills of the mountains,” Abafouq replied. “There we have built a cache and after we have given all our companions our farewells we shall return to them and begin our journey into the mountains. Apart from Andares.” “I will journey to the south by the roads of men,” he said with a bittersweet smile. “There are a few others I know along the way with whom I greatly desire to speak.” His golden eyes were far away for a moment, then returned full and warm. “If I never come this way again, I am honoured to have met, fought, suffered, and bled with you. Your names will ever be sung in my city with the greatest of reverence.” Kayla’s long tail curled about her legs and she felt the heat of a blush fill her. “Oh, I don’t know if I’ve earned all that.” “I’d take it,” Rickkter added with a slight smile. “Having the fair folk offer you anything other than a mystery is a rare delicacy. Savour it and every moment of it!” Andares turned to the raccoon and the corners of his lips turned upward. “You have a very peculiar way with words, Master Rickkter. Ill chance that we should not have more occasions to test your rhetorical regimen.” “Alliteration is one of my least favoured gambits,” he replied with a half yawn, long tongue curling at the end of his snout. “It often pairs words of rampant dissimilitude in the hopes that the audience understands neither but marvels at the orator’s feigned eloquence.” He frowned suddenly and dashed one paw on his breeches. “And damn if I know how you do this to me. Every time I see you I want to speak like a fool. I’m direct, Andares. What is it about you Åelf that shroud even our tongues in mystery!” Andares laughed brightly and set a pearly hand upon the ruffled Keeper’s shoulder. “No matter, that was a delicious rejoinder. But I fear we cannot tarry long. We have many to wish farewell to and an entire valley to scour for them before our day is over.” Rickkter offered him a paw. “Then best of luck on your travels. I hope you find the roads open and the Inns warm and well-lit. And a few good looking wenches.” Kayla elbowed him in the side. “Ooof! Okay, a lot of good looking wenches.” And for that he received a firm yank on his tail. “Yow! You know that actually hurts!” Even Guernef’s beastly manner appeared to lighten in mirth as both Abafouq and Andares laughed. Kayla gave her lover a kiss on the nose, and then turned to Andares and offered him a firm hug. “Our love go to your people! Please be safe!” “And my love and honour go to you and your intended.” He eyed Rickkter meaningfully but the raccoon said nothing. He then stepped back out of the way as Kayla moved to Guernef. She smiled to the Nauh-kaee and wrapped her arms bout his broad neck, nuzzling her snout close to one of his eyes. “Fly safely, Guernef! I don’t always understand you, but you’ve been a tireless and faithful companion and friend. Thank you!” Guernef lifted his foreleg and placed the talons ever so gently on her back. He opened his beak the width of her hand and said in a quiet chirp, “As have you. May you both be very happy together.” It was, Kayla considered much later, the most human thing she’d ever heard him say. At last she came to the Binoq who waited almost like a child for his mother. He looked up into her face and had to dry a tear. “Oh I’ll miss you, Abafouq!” She said, bending down and wrapping her arms about his neck. He held her in turn and sighed, snuffling a bit in his nose. “And I will you. You’ve been the truest friends I have ever known.” He tried to say more but couldn’t.. For several long seconds they held each other wordless. When Kayla finally stood, she wiped one of her eyes and swept the trio once last time. “Where will you go next?” “For now we seek the beginning of this convent and Tugal who resides within. She too was part of our company, if only for a day. To her we shall provide our farewells, and then to Glen Avery.” “I heard Charles went south to watch over the Bishop.” “But James did not,” Abafouq managed. “We will meet Charles on our way south; he will be last I am thinking.” He swallowed and straightened his jacket. “Farewell, Kayla. Continue your studies. I will, if nothing else, write.” They said goodbye one last time, and then Kayla and Rickkter stood aside to let them pass through the market. And they stood there for some time even after the conspicuous silhouettes disappeared about a bend in the road. A cool vapour curled about them and Rickkter shivered, finally finding the strength to turn back to the castle. “Well,” he said as he noted the glimmer of sun along the length of each tower, “it isn’t going to be quite the same without them.” “No, it won’t,” Kayla agreed in a faint whisper. Rickkter stretched and then wrapped his arm about her shoulders, drawing him in close to resume their walk. “Now where were we? Ah, yes! Talking about falling into old routines. Here’s one I would like to start again: breaking fast together! The Twin Hearth isn’t far, and I’m told they have some of the best omelets in all of the valley. Would you care for some?” Kayla nodded, smiling some, but head and eyes ever looking behind her where her friends had disappeared into golden-dappled streets and homes of Metamor. ---------- “Now put everything into your heart. Everything. Anger, joy, all of it. Do you have it in there?” “Aye, Dada.” “Good. Now imagine that your heart is inside a hand. You can make it your paw. Just place your heart inside that paw. Do you see all your little fingers there curling around your heart? Claws, fingers, and inside of them a bright red heart all filled with your feelings?” “I put it there, Dada.” “Now place a mark on your paw, son. Put a mark on your paw. You choose whatever you want to put there.” “Can I put a sword?” “Oh, oh, yes, put a sword on your hand, son. That’s wonderful. Do you have it there?” “Uh huh!” “Good! Now open your paw and release everything in your heart.” Charles gazed at his son Ladero, the black fur of his face like a hood over his shoulders scrunched in concentration relaxing into a very familiar contentment. His large dark eyes opened and he peered with eager delight into his father’s face. “The anger’s gone, Dada! You made it go away!” Charles reached forward and tapped his son’s pink nose and made his prodigious whiskers tremble. “No, you did, son. I just told you how. You can always do this when you’re feeling upset or grumpy.” He felt his own heart swell with delight. Ladero was still so young but already learning many techniques. “Now,” he continued with a firm but gentle instruction, “you’re going to practice focussing your strength again. Remember, it all comes from within.” He handed his son a shaft of bountifruit wood. “This wood is too strong for Whales to use in building her ships. It won’t give the way it needs to. It cannot be broken with your muscles. But you can break it still.” “How Dada?” Ladero asked, his eyes showing no confusion, only an abyss of learning. “You must draw out the strength from within yourself.” Charles crossed over and sat next to his son, their tails laying flat behind them together. “It is within you. Reach from your heart to the wood. Now grip it in both paws. There at the ends. Yes, just like that. Now, reach out and snap the wood like a twig.” Ladero pulled the ends of the wood toward each other, and for a moment nothing happened. Then it snapped with a wicked report. ---------- Charles snapped his eyes open. He lay on a bale of hay with his blanket for warmth. The rich scent of horse, cow, goat and sheep filled the air. He wrinkled his nose and felt a vast emptiness. He closed his eyes tight and cursed the day. His dreams lately had been so full of joy, a joy that vanished with the crashing of dawn’s searing reality. His boy was dead; his Sondecki child had been torn to pieces inside the Sondtodt. A brutal malady that led the force of the Sondeck to turn against the bearer’s flesh. That force, able to shatter brick and wood, to bend metal, and to crack stone, that force that let their bodies move so quickly that the eye could not hope to follow, turned into the most vicious beast when unleashed against unskilled flesh. It had literally ripped his son’s sinews apart from the inside. Charles had seen victims of Sondtodt in his youth. All of them received the aid of the healers amongst the Sondeckis and very few ever died of it. But the pain, the excruciating pain often left them bedridden invalids for years even after they were cured and their Sondeck repaired. He would have sat with his son for however long it took for him to recover enough to walk again. He would have lifted Ladero from the bed and exercised his muscles for him until he could use them for himself again. He would have risked losing all he had in Metamor to have Ladero still with him. But that traitorous Artela had sent him away. And Velena had betrayed him too. He’d trusted them to heal his stony flesh, but his own son they would not aid. “Well damn them,” he muttered angrily. He sat up slowly and the blanket fell from his bare chest. Dawn had just arrived and he could see light trickling through the cracks in the hayloft wall. It took the rat a moment to remember where he was. After watching Bishop Tyrion’s carriage depart beyond the boundary of the Curse, they’d opted to journey east to Jetta which was only an hour away and there spend the night. It would be a long day’s ride to return to the Glen, but Charles had every intent on making it. Charles rolled over and glanced down at the horses stabled. The roan pony Malicon snorted and looked up at him. He stomped one hoof and nudged the feeding trough. Charles felt his heart lighten some. “All right. I’ll be down in moments.” He knelt down on his blankets, stroked one paw over the vine growing across his chest and back, and savoured the way the growing leaves trembled in delight at his touch. Kimberly didn’t like to see it but she understood how much of a companion this vine was to him. It was not as large yet as it had once been, but with Spring almost here he was certain it would quickly become too big for him to shelter in his flesh anymore. He cupped one paw around a slender bud and brought it to his snout for the briefest of kisses. Then he pulled a tunic from his knapsack and slipped it over his large head. He left the lacings in the front undone. The vine curled ever more closely against his hide. Neither Saulius nor Egland or his squire had opted to sleep in the barn. They all took the offer of the farmhouse they’d slept in a few nights before. Strangely restless, Charles said he wished to stay close to his pony, a suggestion that delighted Saulius’s heart no doubt. In truth he’d wanted privacy which he’d not been able to have in longer than he knew. A night alone to think, to pray, to contemplate, to consider. Instead, he’d fallen asleep halfway through his meditations on the sleeping pile he’d prepared. That he’d even had the presence of mind to draw the blanket over his shoulders was an impressive feat. Charles climbed down and poured some feed into the trough outside both Malicon and Armivest’s stalls. The ponies nudged him thankfully with their heads and then started eating. The rat smiled at them both, stroking their manes for a few minutes before returning to gather his things. He had his saddlebags packed and ready when the barn door opened and Sir Saulius entered followed by the young farmhands ready to take the cattle out to pasture. The rat knight smiled at him and then shook his head. “I fear that we shalt not be returning north this day.” He spoke with real regret in his voice, but a firmness too as a master should have with a pupil. Charles flinched beneath it. “Why ever not? The Bishop’s gone and our duty is finished.” “A messenger didst come last night with orders from George. We hath been tasked to aid with the local patrols for the next two days. Today here in Jetta, tomorrow further north along the river to Lorland.” Charles had to let go of Malicon’s ear lest he pull it and hurt the innocent animal. “I was going to ride back to the Glen today! I promised Kimberly and the children I’d see them this evening!” Saulius nodded and sighed, eyes lowered, almost ashamed for the news. “I know. I didst raise this objection with the messenger, but the orders didst come from George. We dare not disobey them.” Charles sneered and nearly beat his fist against the stall door. “Whatever happened to Misha’s vaunted promise to let me spend time with my family! Hah!” Saulius lowered his eyes and added in a quieter voice. “I dost not believe that thy friend Misha ordered this.” “I don’t owe that jackal anything,” Charles said, turning to Malicon. “He can throw me in the dungeon if he likes. I’m going to my family.” “Charles!” Saulius snapped. “Control thyself! Thou art speaking madness.” “Don’t you speak to me that way!” Saulius stood taller, eyes firm and unyielding. “I shalt correct my friends when they dost speak madness! Thou art a better rat than this, Charles!” Charles paused and then took a long deep breath. What had he been teaching Ladero in his dreams? Relief from the anger. So why was he now so angry? He should know better. Saulius had never before spoken to him so harshly. Two days more doing his duty to Metamor was not that much to ask of him. He pictured his heart and tried to pour everything in, but there was just so much he gave up and let out a long sigh. “Very well, Erick. You’re right. I’m being stubborn and stupid. What are we to do today?” Saulius let go his breath and smiled, stepping closer to Charles and gently putting one paw on his shoulder to guide him away from the stalls. “First, we shalt break our fast together. Then, after the horses hath been readied, patrol the countryside; we’ll sleep here again tonight and then journey along the river tomorrow to Lorland.” “And then I can return to the Glen?” Saulius gripped his shoulder tighter, the two rats close together, their scents subtle but present. He leaned closer until their whiskers were nearly brushing. “I wilt go with thee in the early morn before anymore messages from George can detain thee.” Charles smiled and, a warmth tantalizing his heart. “Thank you, Erick. Sir Saulius.” Together, the two left the barn and headed for the farmhouse where a warm meal waited. ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias !DSPAM:4e63f04d31871804284693! </body> </html>