<html> <body> I have returned safely from my trip and will finish posting this tale within a couple of days.  Thank you everyone for your patience and a big thanks to Hallan for his betareading. Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold By Charles Matthias March 12, 708 CR Angus stretched and smiled as he stared out across a clear morning lush with fresh white snow and brilliant blue sky. Just as they'd hoped there was not even a hint of cloud anywhere and the wind had died to the faintest of feathery breezes. Even the snow, despite the violence with which it had whipped them yesterday, was only a few inches thick on the ground, and along most of the rocks had been blown free. It would be a beautiful day for climbing. “Well,” the badger said with a grin that revealed his sharp fangs, “it looks like we have good weather today. Let's have a quick bite and get on our way.” James attached his hoof shoes and looked up, casting a quick glance at Charles and Baerle who were similarly attiring themselves in their corner of the cave, “If we're going to go in pairs, who goes with who?” Angus took a few steps back down into the cave until he came to the remnants of their cookfire and started going through his gear. “Since we have to protect each other in case of falls, it's best to judge by size. That means James you come with me, and Charles goes with Baerle.” The donkey ground his teeth and flicked his tail once. It wouldn't matter in the end anyway. “Which flank should we take?” Charles asked as he slipped his boots and tightened the laces. “The northern pass is a narrower along several stretches. You two would handle that easier than either James or I.” Angus dipped one claw into the pile of ash and drew a mountain on the stone floor and then two paths around it. “We walk for about an hour more through this valley, and then there will be paths as we leave and start up the mountain. You two will take the right fork and James and I will take the left. By mid-afternoon we should reach the other side. When you reach the small grove of trees on the other side, wait there for us.” “Or meet you there,” Charles added with a nod and a tap of his chewstick against his teeth. “How many more talismans should we see on the slope?” “Two more,” Angus tapped positions on the path about a third of the way around the mountain from either direction. “And there are cracks all over the mountain, so even if we need to take shelter we can.” “I guess that's it,” James said, standing up and hoisting his pack. The bell thrummed against his back. “Let's get going.” Baerle looked at him and blinked. He could never turn away when she gazed at him. “Didn't you want something to eat, James?” The donkey smiled to her and nodded. “Of course. A little something before we go.” A few more minutes delay wouldn't matter. “So, what do we have?” ---------- Jessica was roused from sleep by the squeaking voices of two young squirrels. Darien and Christopher stood just inside the door , long tails twitching with every flick of their whiskers, as they warned her in louder and louder whispers that it was time for her to get up. By the time they were speaking in normal tones, she had enough energy to blink open her eyes and push herself into a half crouch. “It's morning, Mistress Jessica,” Christopher said with a eager twitch to his jowls. “Father asked us to get you up.” Darien held out a small covered basket. “We brought you fresh sausage!” She still felt very groggy and so decided to cast a simple little spell to try and clear her mind and renew her energy. Something using the hyacinth. She let her gaze settle on the two boys and she chuckled under her breath. “Thank you, both. Now if you put the sausage down, I'd like to try a little spell on you two.” “Will it hurt?” Darien asked with wide eyes and alert tail. “Not at all. Just hold still.” She could only truly reach out for the hyacinth when casting magic, and this was a perfect excuse. A little bit of fun that the boys could tease each other about later. Even with her mind still darkened by sleep's cold grip, she was able to craft the spells, the same spell she had placed on Berchem. As soon as she reached for the hyacinth's power, she felt her own body begin to sooth and clear. And when she placed both incantation on the boys, she felt as fresh as if she'd just enjoyed a long glide through crystal clear air. Darien and Christopher squeaked in surprise as their posture changed, features softening even underneath all of the fur. A faint suggestion of femininity dented their chests. Both of them looked at each other and then themselves in horror. “Oh yuck!” Darien exclaimed in a higher pitched voice. Christopher echoed her now sister. “Girls!” “Change us back!” Darien begged. “You can leave Darien like this as long as you change me back,” Christopher suggested with a cackling laugh. “No!” Darien pipped. “Change me back and leave Christopher like this!” Jessica stretched as she stood and squawked in vivacious pleasure. “Just a little trick, that's all. Now, let's get you two boys right again.” Jessica reached out her wing claws and severed the cords of magic between the little squirrel girls and the hyacinth. Within a few seconds both of them were once again the rapscallion boys of the Glen. “Now,” Jessica said with a faint laugh, “I can trust you two boys not to tell anyone about this?” “I'm not telling anybody!” Darien said with an emphatic nod. Christopher bounced his head up and down like only a squirrel can. “Good, now go and tell your father that I am on my way.” The two squirrel's almost scampered over each other as they pushed out the door, bounding on all fours down the hallway in their enthusiasm. Jessica's beak broke into an avian grin. How she loved those boys. She took the basket in one wing claw and after tossing aside the little cloth on top, she scooped up the trio of sausage links and gorged them. They were made form elk meat, thick with salt, and entirely scrumptious. She'd have to remember to ask Jurmas the Innkeeper who made them. Once finished she carried the basket down to the Inn's common area, left it on the main counter with one of the servants, and then headed straight down the stony path toward Berchem's burrow. The morning was crisp and clear, with a warmth that spoke clearly of Spring. What little snow had fallen the night before was already melting. Lord Avery and Alldis were waiting for her outside Berchem's home. The door was swung open and she could see a faint shimmering of light from the fire within reflecting off the wooden roots framing the door. Both squirrel and deer turned to greet her with warm smiles. “Are you feeling better?” Lord Avery asked. “Erica told us what you saw last night.” “I am much better, milord,” Jessica replied with a slight bow to the squirrel. “How is Berchem?” “Almost catatonic,” Alldis grunted and waved a long arm toward the door. “Jo cannot even get him to take his broth anymore.” “Then there's no time to waste,” Jessica said with a sigh. “Is Burris here?” “In the room waiting for you,” Lord Avery said with a long chittering sigh. “We'll be here.” Jessica swept down the steps and saw that the skunk had been placed on his pallet again; otherwise the small home was in much the same condition that it had been the night before. The lines of powder she'd painstakingly erected were gone, consumed in the last moments of the spell. With what she intended, she wouldn't need them now. Burris leaned over the skunk, offering short incantations to try and relax the skunk's muscles, but nothing seemed to be working. Jo fretted over the kettle with her latest batch of broth, but her bowl sat untouched next to the skunk's head. His jaws were clenched together so tight that they were actually bleeding. And more blood was dribbling out his ears. “Oh thank Akkala you're here!” Jo exclaimed when she saw the hawk land in the center of the room. “I can't do anything for him anymore.” Jessica glanced at Berchem's constricted face and felt her stomach tighten. She had seen men die in battle, but never a death so slow or so painful as what the irascible skunk now endured. “A powerful sleep spell might work, but after what I saw last night, it might not.” “Do you really think the magic of Marzac is involved?” Burris asked as he stepped back from the pallet. “It felt like it,” Jessica said in a harsh whisper. “I'll know for sure in a moment. Don't interfere. This is going to be risky.” Burris and Jo both moved to the other side of the room while Jessica took the two steps to the pallet and bent over the skunk. Berchem had curled into a fetal ball, his tail wrapped up beneath his head like a pillow. His claws were digging into his chest fur, but not yet fierce enough to draw blood. Jessica swallowed,nervous, and let the veins of magic come to life around her. The knot in Berchem's head had tightened further, drawing more and more magical threads into its weave. The threads passing through his body but not yet drawn into the knot were dwindling; she counted less than thirty left out of the hundreds that ought to be there. Jessica could still feel the energy from the hyacinth. Normally she only applied it to her curse changing spells, but given what had happened the last time she'd tried this on Berchem she knew she couldn't take the chance of her spell becoming so tightly embedded into the skunk that she couldn't remove it. Instead she crafted a very simple spell that bound the skunk's ears to her own, and with the hyacinth grounding her, she brought the spell into contact with the knot. A simple matter of will opened the connection. And she was slammed against the wall as a huge bell tolled above her louder than any dragon's roar or even the inferno that had engulfed Marzac. The aural concussion made her try to scream, but she couldn't even hear anything but that ever renewing resonance of that vaulted bell. Her eyes filled with a vile black shadow that coalesced into the shape of the bell, vaulted and terrible. But not one bell, nine bells in a grid, carillons coming into focus and resolving from some leftover malice that now clung to Berchem's mind and fed from it like a leech. Swollen and engorged, the bell smashed its bulk with every peal that made her fear her bones were going to melt into jelly. After only the seventh peal, Jessica was able to grasp the spell connecting her to Berchem's mind and she ripped it apart. If not for the strength that flowed from her hyacinth, she knew, even as she fell to the floor gasping and watching drops of blood fall from her beak, that she would have died as surely as the skunk. Jo was at her side with a small cloth gently dabbing the blood smearing her black feathers. “Are you okay?” she whispered as if from miles away. “No,” she replied with a gasp, startled to realize that her own voice was just as remote. How badly had just those few knells hurt her ears? “I heard it... I heard the bell in his mind. It is Marzac. There was... there was a carillon of nine bells in one of the rooms at the Chateau. They're what's caused this.” “Are you okay?” Lord Avery called down the steps as Burris and Jo helped Jessica get back to her feet. “I will be in a moment.” Jessica said in a clear voice. Already her hearing was coming back, but her ears still stung with the faint tremor of the ringing. “It's one of my friends who did this. Charles or James. I don't think any of the others have been through here since the plague.” Alldis grunted. “It's James. I checked all the Polygamites, but none of their hooves match what I found. And James has been carrying around a bell he made a few weeks ago.” Jessica breathed heavily, gathering her strength again. “Where are they?” “In the mountains,” Lord Avery replied as he offered the hawk a hand to help her climb out of the skunk's burrow. “It'll take days to find them.” “I can fly there today,” Jessica said. “if I can find them I can warn Charles and we can put a stop to this. Once we destroy that bell, Berchem should recover.” “What should we do until then?” Jo asked. Jessica sighed as she glanced back down into the home. The skunk still lay curled into a tight ball, his face more pained than even an expert torturer would seek. “Do whatever you can for him. I don't think he'll last another day.” She turned to Lord Avery and met him with intent eyes. “Where exactly are they going? Who is with them?” “Angus and Baerle. They went into the mountains just south of the Sea of Souls. I can show you a map.” “Thank you, milord, but that won't be necessary.” Jessica spread her wings and leaped into the air. Beneath her she heard the squirrel shout something, but the words were lost as she ascended up through the trees. She winged to the northwest, heart pounding with every flap, her focus sure. How she wished she'd asked the Glenners to wake her earlier. ---------- The left fork ascended in a series of switchbacks up along the mountainside before striking in a wide shelf coated in fresh snow along a gentle slope that would be covered in scrub in a few months. They had been walking not even an hour by the tie they took a short break to stretch their legs after the climb. James set his pack down on a rock and sorted through it until he had the bell in hand. Angus stood a handful of paces ahead of him, surveying the path and the sheer face of rock descending down into the valley. “I know you wanted to go with Baerle,” Angus said quietly. “Next chance I have, I'll make sure you have some time. I promise.” James cupped the bell in hand and turned toward the badger, taking each step carefully. “You do? Why?” “Both Charles and I have seen the way you look at her,” Angus replied as he continued to note the precipice and the path ahead. “She's had a rough time with men in the past, so don't let her manner fool you. If you truly like her, she'll come around.” James licked the back of his lips and took another step, the bell thrumming in his hands. Tolling. “I do like her,” James admitted. “So why do you keep pairing her with Charles?” Angus half-turned to glance at him, then shrugged as his eyes wandered to the clear sky. “Well, I wanted to talk with you a bit, James. And I was hoping Charles could talk to Baerle. I've seen the way she looks at him, and it's not helping our friend. “She doesn't love him,” James insisted. Only a few more paces left. Angus scuffled the snow and grimaced. “Perhaps not. But... there's one other thing I wanted to let you know, James. It's been a little over a year now since I started teaching you. And I have never been as proud of a pupil as I am of you. You are one of the most capable men I've ever known, James. I mean that. In another year you'll be leading scouting teams, and maybe more. But,” he turned away from the precipice and grabbed his gear, brushing it free of snow. “But for now, I hope that you have some luck with Baerle. She's a good woman.” James licked his lips and lifted the bell up over his head. “I know she is. Thank you for telling me this, Angus.” The badger started to turn when James swung down hard. Tolling! The bell landed solidly in Angus's forehead. The badger flinched backward for a moment, and then his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed into the snowbank against the mountainside. That my tone should be tuned to such solemn song. So mournfully – so mournfully, that the dead may feel no wrong. James stared at the unconscious badger for several long seconds before shaking his head. “Nay, he wanted, he wanted me to be with Baerle. He promised me. I'll make him forget. Two accidents is too much anyway.” Nevermore. “Too much,” James repeated, before bending down and scooping the snow, piling it in heaps atop the badger's body to make sure he didn't freeze to death. Once he'd covered all but his snout, James hefted his pack over one shoulder and started back down the trail. He kept the bell in his hand, which throbbed and warmed him with purpose. He exulted and felt so alive as he nearly galloped down the switchbacks. At long last, it was finally time to rescue Baerle from that rat. ---------- Once she cleared the Glen treetops, Jessica followed the line of mountains, climbing high up to where she could see over the nearest peaks. The air was cold, but he feathers kept her warm. To make things even easier, she shrank into her pure hawk form which was well-suited to such heights. After spending almost eight months traveling with both Charles and James, she knew them very well and not just their physical appearance. The way the Curse attached itself to each of them was also an old friend of hers. And as a Sondecki, the rat's magical essence moved in very peculiar ways through his body, circling an inner inaccessible core of power like a whirlpool. Once she was close enough it wouldn't be hard to spot either of them. Jessica opened her vision to the streams of magic but saw nothing unusual. Disappointed but not surprised, she kept on flying toward the mountains and the sea beyond. ---------- Angus woke to a horrible headache and a slight ringing in his ears. His chest seemed very heavy and cold too. He blinked open his eyes and tried to lift an arm to brush the snow from his face, but his arm didn't want to move that easily. Shaking his head back and forth, he blinked and glanced down at the mounds of snow resting atop his entire body. “What in all the hells?” he blurted and groaned. It didn't take him long to dislodge the lightly packed snow, and soon he stood and brushed himself off, shaking his body to loose the stubborn flakes. He put one paw to his head and took several deep breaths. The top of his head stung with a fresh bruise. And the ringing in his ears, though light, did make him a little wobbly on his footpaws. But, a warrior of as many years as he was never disoriented for long. He scanned the snow nearby but saw no sign of blood or even of a struggle. The only prints marring the pristine surface were his own and the hooves of his friend James. Only James's tracks returned the way they'd come. “What's going on here?” he muttered under his breath. He grabbed his satchel, and pulled out a pair of long swords. He strapped these to his back and then slung the satchel over one shoulder. After adjusting the straps to keep them from jabbing or slipping, he started back down the trail. He followed James's tracks, wondering and wary. But no matter what had happened, he'd be ready for it. ---------- The first of the two talismans on the northwestern face of the mountain was nestled within a large fissure of basalt interwoven with granite. The black basalt had worn away between the shelves of granite on either side creating a natural alcove that arched closed above them like a pulpit. This pulpit overlooked a vast congregation of brush and conifers in the valley between the mountains, as well as further in the distance highland dells that would be teeming with mountain goats in a few weeks. Charles could easily see the Lutins attempting to cross those gentle slopes, but not this mountain. A rock ledge offered them a winding path that kept more or less flat as it meandered around the slope. The recent storm had covered the path in a layer of snow at least a hand deep, so they kept their pace a slow one to be sure that they did not slip. One fall and they would tumble down a sheer ledge of exposed granite for a hundred or more feet before impaling upon the tops of the trees. Despite these obstacles, both Baerle and Charles found it a very easy climb. He cautioned the opossum several times not to become confidant but to focus on stepping with care and precision. The confidant climber was the dead climber, a fact that she knew all too well from scaling the trees of the Glen. But she never chided the rat for his caution nor remind him of her expertise. And Charles appreciated that. The comity that had existed between them for nearly their whole friendship had always been a source of pleasure to him. And they had to keep it that way. Baerle positioned herself next to the five-bladed talisman nestled in the pulpit and turned to the rat who stood a pace back where the granite wall began. Wordlessly he handed her one of the pouches with Burris's magical concoction, and then licked the back of his teeth as he watched her spread the paste across each blade. “Baerle,” he said softly, eyes ever on the fresh sheen of white snow perched over head, “there's something I've been meaning to ask you for a while.” She turned her muzzle to one side while smearing the paste across the top blade. Her gray snout brightened with the talisman's orange glow. “What is it, Charles?” “I've wanted to ask this for a very long time, but circumstances, and... and my own fears and sorrows have kept it from my tongue. But here we are, far out of reach of any in the Glen, and there's no better time for me to ask it.” Her face seemed to draw tight as if expecting some vicious blow. “Charles, what is it?” He gazed firmly at the opossum, noting the way her ears folded back and her bright pink nose surmounted a snout filled with sharp teeth. But his regard settled resolutely on the one blue eye turned toward him and with heavy heart he brought to life the thoughts and feelings that had battered around inside of him for over a year. “Baerle, do you love me?” Baerle swallowed and her one hand wrapped about the base of the talisman to hold herself up. She trembled. Her face lowered, eye looking anywhere but at him. Her muzzle parted to speak, then closed, her other paw wrapping tight about the fur lining of her jerkin. In a quiet voice she said, “Please... don't ask me that.” Charles kept his eyes riveted to her, a fact that her wandering eye tried to avoid but could not. The words were now free and could not be taken back, and so neither would he back down. “Baerle, I must know. I have so much more to say, but... until you tell me, honestly, what is in your heart, I cannot say more.” He swallowed and then added, “If I did, you could never answer me honestly.” She took a deep breath, her eye moistening. “I... I can't.” Charles almost reached a paw out to her, but kept them fixed at his side. “Baerle. I have to know. Do you love me?” With a deep gasp, and a pained expression, Baerle swung her snout so that both blue eyes, watering, met him. “Aye! I do love you, Charles. I have not stopped loving since I met you. But... I'm trying... I'm trying so very... very hard to let you go. For Kimberly. Because I love her more as my sister than I love you. I know it. I can't break that. How could you make me say that? How could you do that?” Charles took a careful step back, putting one paw on the cold stone wall. “Because as long as we said nothing, there would always be that possibility between us.” He lowered his eyes and ground his teeth together. “There were a couple moments in the last week when I was tempted... by you. And many more before that.” The anger in her face began to ebb as she breathed slowly, her white fingers uncurling from the talisman's base. “Then... you did love me?” “I do love you, Baerle. But I can never love you as you deserve.” He lifted his snout again, and took a deep breath. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. You deserve to know.” She swallowed and nodded, lifting one paw to brush back her tears. “I... I... I don't know what to say.” “Do we need to say anything more?” She blinked and brushed her face with both paws before heaving a long sigh. “I don't know. I thought I was cursed; I spent the last year in love with a married man, wondering and hoping if I could accept just being his mistress. And a part of me thought I could. But... nay.” She looked away and pressed her face against the rock wall and shuddered. “Why can't I love right? Why can't I love someone who will love me back?” Charles stepped forward and put a gentle paw on her shoulder. “You are loved, Baerle. And I believe that there is at least one man who loves you and would want you as more than just a dalliance, and even more than just a dear friend. I believe he loves you as you should be loved; if only he would have the courage to say it.” Charles resisted the temptation to lift his chewstick to his incisors and added, “And I'm saying this partly for his sake. If he doesn't see that you are still in love with me, maybe he'll have the courage to admit it.” Baerle turned slightly, blinking, bewildered. “Who?” But he could only shake his head. “That's not for me to say. But I believe it to be so. Baerle, you are very dear to me an I want to see you happy. I cannot do that. And it's time we stopped dancing around it. You are meant for another. And I don't want to be in his way anymore. And I don't want to be in your way anymore either.” She swallowed and slowly began to nod, turning to face him. “I'm sorry.” “There's nothing to be sorry about,” Charles said with patient gentleness. His own heart ached, but it would heal as well. “Let us say no more now. When we get back to the Glen, well, if ever you need to talk, I will listen. I will just listen.” Baerle stared at him for several seconds before flinging her arms around his back and lifting him off his feet, iron shoes, pack, and all. He gasped in surprise, and then wrapped his arms about her back, hugging warmly if not with as much need. She put him back down a moment later, and with her eyes still running but her snout broken into a faint smile, she managed to say, “Thank you, Charles. No more then. Dear friend.” He smiled back and then gestured to the talisman. “Well then, dear friend, shall we finish up here and move on?” Her paws lingered at his sides a moment longer as she took several deep breaths, her smile steadying and touching her eyes anew with each one. “Okay,” she said at last, her voice soft but no longer shaky. There was a confidence in it that knew it would feel better in time. Her smile dimpled her snout, and then she turned back to the talisman and picked up the pouch of the woodpekcer's strange paste. Charles stretched and felt a vast wave of relief. He'd finally managed to get through that and it hadn't hurt as much as he thought. He still felt an agony, an almost emptiness in his heart, but it wasn't Baerle causing that. And he felt an odd sort of throbbing in his ears and mind that swelled into a lancing pain. He brought both paws to the side of his head and winced wondering where that had come from. “Charles?” Baerle asked, glancing back from the back of the alcove in worry. “Are you okay?” “Something...” he muttered as he looked up, a rumbling sound joining the sonorous throb. His eyes widened in horror. “Stay there and hold on!” He shouted, even as he tried to focus on sinking his body into the rock. Above them the wall of snow had broken free and was tumbling down the mountainside toward them. ---------- Mountain climbing had never been so easy. With the iron bell gripped tightly in his right hand, James scaled up the side through the fresh-fallen snow as if he were taking a stroll through the Glen commons. He ascended with a speed and a surety of balance that would be the envy of a mountain goat, rising up above the path where Charles and Baerle trod. Neither of them would have been able to see him through the glare of the midday sun, but he could clearly see the path below and the paw prints they'd left behind. Very soon he would see them. Though the clapper did not strike against the side of the cracked bell, he could feel its tolling reverberating up his arm, around his heart like a hummingbird flitting from blossom to blossom, and then to his mind where it resounded expectantly like a hunter waiting for the game to come. The donkey breathed with that rhythm, the colors of the sky dimming to an iron gray as cold as the mountains. The minutes fled from him in a torrent. The cold air wrapped about him, permeating his fur-lined coat, and sinking into his flesh. Beneath his hooves the snow parted to be met by the rock beneath. This he pursued until the path reached a small ledge overlooking a crevice of basalt through the mountainside. A few dozen feet below him he could see the talisman. And standing there just beneath him was Baerle and that rat. He had his filthy arms around her and she him. “Nevermore,” he muttered, lifting the bell over his head. That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. “Nevermore,” James said again, lips quivering with each syllable. Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore. “Nevermore!” Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore. “Nevermore!” James swung the bell downward striking the rock with its bore. The tone that bellowed forth shook the mountain. His eyes flung their rage at the cowering rat as the snow around him thundered down the mountainside with the voice of the bell. ---------- At least three miles ahead across the mountains a brilliant plume of light smeared with a darkness unfathomable erupted. Jessica's chest tightened and she beat her wings even harder as she could see with her natural vision half the face of one of the mountains begin sliding down. It had begun. Whatever James was going to do, he'd already started. She hoped she wouldn't have to kill him to stop Marzac's evil. ---------- Angus's head still hurt, but he'd been in worse shape before. The ringing in his ears had grown ever so slightly in its intensity as he traced James's path back down the side of the mountain until they came to where their paths had forked that morning. The donkey didn't follow Charles and Baerle along the northwestern flank of the mountain, but struck out on a higher route that quickly ascended across almost sheer rock. Angus scratched his head and shifted the swords against his back. He knew that James was a skilled climber, but even the donkey wouldn't have been able to scale that wall without first chiseling hand and hoof holds. Something else was going on. He grunted as the ringing in his ears pressed further against the inside of his head. He growled low in his throat, and then blinked open his eyes in horror. Angus stared down at his paws, touched his ears, folded them against the sides of his head, and snarled. The ringing. Strange, even inexplicable behavior from James. It was all connected. Somehow, he didn't know how, James was responsible for what happened to Berchem, and now he was going after Charles and Baerle. The badger straightened his gear and started rushing down the path after the rat and opossum when a loud rumbling began shaking the mountain beneath him. He'd heard that sound and felt that shaking before. His heart beat with every prayer he could think of to every one of the Pantheon. He didn't know anyone that had survived an avalanche. He hoped he soon would. ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias !DSPAM:4e9b3ff9220551804284693! </body> </html>