<html> <body> --------- Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats by Charles Matthias and Ryx Pars II: Denuncio (k) Tuesday, June 22, 724 CR Malger did as he promised, whispering quickly in the percheron's ears before secreting Charlie out from underneath the High Box. They quickly wound through the pavilions being careful not to be noticed by any of the other noble houses, and steering very clear of both their pavilion and the Matthias pavilion. Malger even doffed his feathered hat with his steed to by one article reduce his foppish appearance and keep him from being recognized. Charlie found the subterfuge irritating, and dug his incisors into the wood, casting his eyes about in hopes to see someone to stymie with a withering glare. But Malger led them successfully back into Keeptowne proper without running into anyone they knew. The streets were full of revelers, merchants, musicians, magicians, dancers, acrobats and brawlers. Around these they slipped quietly and unobtrusively. No one stopped them or stared after them as there were far more interesting things to watch, admire, and cheer. They reached the Blue Note within a candlemark and after a few quick words with the shopkeeper, were ushered into a back room with no windows and only two doors. The second led to an alley and an eight foot drop which made it a convenient quick exit to avoid pursuit, an artifact of days when a less a savory class of Keepers had operated the establishment. Charlie had used it a few times mostly to see if he could; his most recent experience had been last Summer when he'd tried landing in Maysin's saddle. A bruised ear and tail, muddy clothes, and a zebra's nasal laugh had been the end of that fiasco. Malger demurred the offer of food in favor of inviting Charlie to sit in one of the softly cushioned chairs. They both accepted the offer of a light drink that swiftly followed, and a few minutes later they both sat opposite each other around a small table in the squat chamber lit only with the lanterns brought by the shopkeeper and hanging on either side of the main door. The marten rolled his mazer back and forth in his paws and lifted the spout to his muzzle. After a short swallow he wiped the froth off on his sleeve and sighed. “That dream... that nightmare you saw of an exchange took place sixteen years ago. You and your brothers had just celebrated your first birthday.” A smile traced the edges of his father's snout. “I had met you for the first time during the plague. Your mother – the Lady Kimberly, you, and your siblings were staying in Long House during the quarantine that closed the Keep, allowing none to enter nor leave, while your sire was still at Glen Avery. I'm told he threatened to climb the walls of Euper to get to you all before he was convinced to stay away. I kept hidden most of the time myself, but after hearing the worst of the danger was passed I tended to various errands of my own. One of them brought me to Long House; Misha did not want to let me in but I had a letter from the Duke and so I was permitted entrance.” He chuffed a laugh and shook his head. “I don't even remember what the letter was for anymore. I was still trying to establish my role at Metamor at the time. But while there I saw your mother and you four. I stopped and watched you climbing all over the balustrades, scampering, crawling, and aye, squeaking with an energy and enthusiasm to tire even the stoutest and most formidable Long Scout. And you had a few of them giving you chase! I knew seeing you and your siblings at play that I could never again wish to live anywhere but Metamor.” Charlie sipped his ale but the warmth and textured brew did nothing to assuage his anger. He could still see the stony countenance of his sire bearing down on him, basalt scar and glimmering ebony eye bearing feigned innocence, daring to ask without hint of responsibility, why the child he had rejected would in turn reject him. His father's cheerful reminisce only made his whiskers twitch; yet again his father was obfuscating the truth behind a storytellers' veneer. “What of the dream?” He prompted. “I am coming to that,” Malger said, holding out one finger to bid his son wait. “I did not see you or your family again for almost two months. A week later your sire took you all back to Glen Avery and my pursuits kept me in the Keep.” Charlie snorted, having a rather unpleasant idea about what those pursuits might be. “But in early May I decided to take a journey to the Glen to visit my friend and one-time traveling companion Murikeer. That is when your sire approached me with a harrowing request. That is when the bargain you saw in his nightmares took place.” Charlie took a deep breath and listened to his father's voice lilt with the weaving of the tale. The fire of the young rat's mysteries roiled in his veins. ---------- Sorry for the short part today. More goodness coming tomorrow. May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias </body> </html>