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Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats<br>
by Charles Matthias and Ryx<br><br>
Pars V: Ascensum<br><br>
(b)<br><br>
<br>
<font face="Times New Roman, Times"><i>Wednesday, June 23, 724
CR<br><br>
</i></font>The sun had not yet shown itself over the mountain peaks to
the east when Charlie emerged from the Livery gate of the Duke’s wing. In
the distance the hulking form of a giant was raking out the loose boxes
that housed those mounts belonging to the Knights of the Red Stallion and
the Knights of the Holy Yew. The giant’s huge rake cleaned each stall out
in only a few passes and was shoveled into a wagon with an equally large
tool.<br><br>
“Milord?” A deep though feminine voice came to his ears before he had
gone a half dozen strides and he turned to find Maysin approaching from a
side gate from which she had emerged. Though she may have set out from
the Sutt garrison there was no telling how far she had walked to emerge
from the Keep within moments of his own exit. When Charlie turned she
gave a single-handed sweep of her rich blue dress with a look of ‘what’s
with this getup’ curiosity.<br><br>
“Maysin, ah!” Charlie beamed with a smile, “You look very nice.” The
solid blue was very striking atop her black-and-white striped
hide.<br><br>
“Yes, milord Charlie, but why such a formal costume?” She asked
deferentially, her hooves chuffing quietly on the neatly trimmed grass of
the livery courtyard.<br><br>
<font face="Times New Roman, Times">With a moue Charlie’s ears backed,
briefly. “Because of my – ahh – behavior yesterday I am not going to be
on the list today, though my sire’s use of magic disqualified him and I
did advance. So I will not need you as a mount today.” A shadow emerging
from the same door Myasin had made Charlie’s gaze shift briefly, but only
long enough to see Bryn’s regally garbed form approaching with Argamont’s
taller frame beside him, dressed with finery the equal of
Maysin’s.<br><br>
</font>“Ahh, Charlie!” Bryn hailed with a wave, increasing his pace for a
few strides. Argamon’s ears twitched forward and Charlie saw his gaze
sweep Maysin up and down for a moment, the tall stallion servitor smiling
admiringly. “I see we are of like mind.” The young duke-in-waiting taking
Maysin in with a smile and short bow.<br><br>
<font face="Times New Roman, Times">“Indeed, Bryn.” Charlie chuckled,
“Maysin, as I will not be contesting on the List I will, perforce, be
attending my father and the Duke in the royal box. I would have you
attend me, please, if I may ask that of you.”<br><br>
</font>“Not Hogue?” Maysin backed one ear timorously. She had served
Charlie many times in the company of Metamor’s royals and was accepted by
the entirety of the family with pleasure.<br><br>
“I have released him for the day to attend the festivities on his own
whim.” Charlie tipped his head slightly and looked up at the
monochromatic striped mare’s concerned expression, “And I would do the
same, if you desire to enjoy the day for yourself.”<br><br>
She shook her head slowly, “No, I would be honored to be of service.”
After a moment the corners of her expressive equine lips twitched up in a
brief smile, “And the food will be much better than what most of the
vendors have.”<br><br>
Charlie bobbed his head with a smile, “True, true!” He agreed, then
straightened his back and squared his shoulders, turning to face her more
directly with a serious mien upon his muzzle. “But first I would do
something, with Bryn and Argamont to witness.” Clearing his throat
Charlie slipped nimble fingers into the sleeve of his doublet. “Maysin, I
am sorry.”<br><br>
Her head titled and her eyes widened, as if expecting his statement to be
the opening line of a dismissal or other unpleasant news. “Sorry,
milord?” She quavered, hands dropping to her side in a pose of formal
attentiveness.<br><br>
“Yes, Maysin, I am sorry. For my behavior yesterday, in disrespecting and
dishonoring you, who have of your own will and desire have comported
yourself to be my steed.” Charlie carried on diligently. Bryn’s ears came
up and he shifted, quite subtly, to an aristocratic pose of attention to
an important moment. “I acted in ill grace toward my sire on the field of
arms, and I left you – who leave yourself vulnerable and exposed without
garb in a manner many would find ill suited to their pride and
intelligence – standing tacked and barded in the summer sun as any other
might abandon a mere horse.” With a shake of his head Charlie stepped
closer to her, until they were barely a handspan apart and he had to
raise his head markedly to keep eye contact. “I am in your debt. I am
always in your debt, for the service you offered, and offer, to myself
and my House.” Raising his hand, and stretching the seams of his surcoat
to their limit, he reached up to lightly capture one of her tall, striped
ears. Delicately he removed one of the decorative jeweled studs, which
was mere costume jewelry worth a few silvers but was still fetching
against her flesh and pelt. Palming it he slipped a larger, heavier, and
far more ornate stud into the empty piercing before stepping back. The
stone was a deep green, oval cut emerald enwrapped in a web of gold as
fine as a spider’s web. Alone it cost more than her entire wardrobe and a
goodly portion of her wages. “If, at any time, for any reason you require
aid of me, day or night, in any way present that stone to any of our
House and I will come to your aid and service without question.”<br><br>
Maysin’s hand went to her ear the moment he turned loose of it. Thought
she had only caught a momentary glimpse of the stone she could feel its
weight in her ear and with the pads of her thick fingers. “Charlie, this
is far too much!” She gasped in surprise. “You did not wrong me, at all,
yesterday! That is my serv-“<br><br>
Charlie held up a finger and lightly touched her lips, “Maysin, it is not
the value of that token, it is the token itself. It is the mark of a
promise made.” He paused and smiled, then chuckled softly, “I could have
offered as much with a bit of copper or pin, and it would carry the same
value. That more suits you, I think.”<br><br>
“I agree.” Bryn coughed modestly to one side, “And, in so saying, House
Hassan will know of that token and bear its value accordingly, Maysin. I
bear witness to the promise made.” Stepping around the stunned zebra Bryn
stood beside Charlie to face her and rested a heavy hand upon the young
rat’s shoulder, “And yes, lass, this churl did you a disservice
yesterday. What you, Argamont, and every one of those who have come into
the services of our Houses in the manner you do is beyond any service
ever expected of a houses’ servitors in history. Though we don’t say it
often enough, you honor us with that service.” He nodded toward Argamont
who had moved forward to stand at Maysin’s side. “Leaving you
caparisoned, for all intents and purposes naked, upon the tourney field
like a mere horse was poor observation of that honor.”<br><br>
Maysin’s ears backed and her muzzle dropped in profound consternation,
only to come back up suddenly when Argamont slipped a strong arm around
her waist. She looked to Bryn’s sometime steed and back to the two nobles
and attempted a smile. “Thank you, milord.” She managed to whisper after
a few moments, her ears still backed.<br><br>
“No, Maysin.” Charlie shook his head and reached out to chuck her lightly
under the chin with a curled finger. “Thank <i>you</i>. I hardly say it
often enough.” His gaze twitched slightly to one side, “And you,
Argamont, though you are not in my service.”<br><br>
“That is understood, your grace.” Argamont intoned with deep bow, his arm
still around the stunned zebra’s waist. “By both of us, though she is
sorely shocked by your formal acceptance of a debt. Most afford those who
serve them no debts of honor. You are a fine lord, and will be a fine
Duke one day.”<br><br>
<font face="Times New Roman, Times">“Not before me!” Bryn cut the
formality with a laugh, clapping Charlie’s shoulder with a thick-fingered
hand. “Now, let’s quit gawping here and get to my father’s box before the
Dawn Wine is gone!”<br><br>
Charlie lifted his arm as high as it would go and patted Bryn on the
back. “Save me some, Bryn; I have one more errand to run ere I reach the
High Box.”<br><br>
Maysin looked awkwardly at both Argamont, who did not seem interested in
letting go of her waist, and Charlie, whose expensive gift weighed on her
mind more than her ear. Argamont acknowledged the noble rat's
announcement with a mere flick of his ear, his eyes still on the zebra
mare. Bryn regarded his friend with raised ears and wide eyes, “Oh?
Another soul to whom you must make amends?”<br><br>
He nodded with a sigh. “Yes. My mother, the Baroness.”<br><br>
“Oh ho!” Bryn replied with a snort, crossing his arms and favoring the
rat with a haughty stare down the length of his nose. “And what have you
to say to your brother-in-arms whom you abandoned to the matrimonial
machinations of his own mother?”<br><br>
Argamont whinnied in amusement while Charlie stared incredulous at the
ducal heir. “I fear I do not understand your meaning. I cannot believe
that your family would have agreed to a betrothal so soon, and certainly
not the foreign king!”<br><br>
“Nay, they have not agreed to a betrothal, but without your companionship
to accompany me, I had no choice but to remain in company with my family
and with the foreigners.” Bryn's dark ears lowered and he exuded an air
of affected offense and shame. “I had no choice but to spend time with
<i>her!</i>”<br><br>
“He even danced with her,” Argamont put in with a delighted snort. Maysin
frowned at him and finally managed to slip herself out from the
stallion's grasp. The strawberry roan favored the zebra with a brief
glance of genuine affection, before the ribald glint returned to his dark
eyes. “Quite a lovely couple our young lord and lady made.”<br><br>
Charlie blinked and held back the laugh he felt. “You danced with the
princess?”<br><br>
Bryn nodded, his affected air of offended dignity comical in its
exuberance. “We entertained our guests privately after last night's
festivities. Music was playing and all of us were told to dance. My
mother ensured that the princess and I would be paired together as often
as possible.”<br><br>
His whiskers twitched with mischief. “Did you trod one of your hooves on
delicate royal toes?”<br><br>
“Do not be foolish!” His ears lifted for a moment as if only now
considering the tactic for the first time. “Mother would skewer
me!”<br><br>
Charlie finally laughed and shook his head. “Do not fear this princess,
Bryn. She's just as nervous about you as you are of her.”<br><br>
“Probably more nervous about how much a horse our young lord is!”
Argamont offered with a nickering laugh. Maysin jabbed him in the side, a
disapproving scowl stretching her supple lips.<br><br>
Bryn's ears backed in genuine embarrassment and his eyes narrowed toward
the man who served as his mount. Charlie caught the glance and waved his
hands in the air as high as he could reach and laughed one more time.
“Enough! Enough! I offer you, Thomas Bryn Hassan, my humblest apologies
for abandoning you to your mother's matrimonial mischief. I promise you
that I shall keep you company to ameliorate any such attempts at amorous
arrangements by your as... assertive mother.”<br><br>
Bryn flicked up his long ears and then flipped them back down. “Well!
Good!” He snorted and then held back his own laugh no more. A hearty bray
interjected his mirth and he gripped Charlie by the shoulder and gave him
a brief shake. “Now let's go. It's a long walk and the roads are going to
be filled before the hour is out.”<br><br>
Charlie felt a measure of relief and warmth in his heart. He had shamed
himself on the tourney field and yet his friends still stood with him.
Together the four of them made their way from the Keep, through the
gates, and through Keeptowne shadowed by the quartet of Watch members.
Though it was still early in the morning, it was festival time and so the
streets were thrumming with vendors from all over the valley and Keepers
eager for the final day. Like Charlie, Bryn had eaten already and so they
did not linger at any of the vendors though they did glance at many,
inspiring hope in the heart of many at the sight of their wealth only to
be disappointed when they continued on their way without reaching for
their money pouches.<br><br>
When they reached the festival grounds the relaxed mood Charlie felt in
the company of his friends evaporated. The easy laughter he shared with
Bryn was replaced by a sullen reserve. He fidgeted as they walked toward
the pavilions and the High Box, hesitating to break away. Bryn, as
always, noted his discomfiture and finally, after they had walked the
long way around the Sutt pavilion, grabbed him on the shoulder and
gestured with his other arm at another pavilion flying a pinion bearing a
rat. “You have something to do, don't you, Charlie?”<br><br>
He took a deep breath, his whiskers and tail drooping. “Yes, I do. Thank
you, Bryn. I will join you when I can.”<br><br>
Bryn smiled and offered him a chuckle. “Take what time you need. I doubt
even my mother can get me married before midday.”<br><br>
Maysin followed him as he made his way through the pavilions towards the
heraldry of his birth family. The Sutt and Hassan pavilions stood near
the rear of the High Box and were the largest by far, but the Matthias
pavilion, set off in a ring of pavilions for minor nobility, was nearly
their equal. It's size was not a reflection of their prominence but only
their fecundity. Even their youngest children were now old enough to come
to Metamor for the festival, and so with over twenty Matthias of varying
ages in attendance along with nearly as many servants and guards there to
protect the children they needed a large space in which to
congregate.<br><br>
Two soldiers in the green livery of the Matthias clan stood outside the
pavilion and nodded to Charlie and Maysin as they approached. The same
rat-head crest that he had viciously assaulted on his sire's shield
adorned their chest. He recognized both the dog and the human from his
visits to the Narrows, but their names were a mystery to him. Charlie
nodded to them and folded his hands at his waist. “Is the Baroness here?
I would like to pay her an audience.”<br><br>
The dog nodded again. “Milady is here and expecting you,
Milord.”<br><br>
Charlie twitched his whiskers, remembering what his mother had said over
breakfast. “Thank you.” He turned to Maysin and offered the zebra a
smile. “I think I should see her myself.”<br><br>
Maysin nodded and gave him a confidant mile. “I will wait here for you,
Charlie.”<br><br>
Charlie stepped inside and was surprised by how quiet and empty it was.
Tables were arranged in the center of the tent holding fresh basins of
water for washing muddy paws and covered platters of fresh fruit, breads,
and cheese to sate hungry bellies. A few servants milled about preparing
for the day, but he saw no rats. There were a few private inner rooms,
and out of one of them a familiar opossum emerged. “Lord Charlie? Your
mother is waiting inside.”<br><br>
Charlie took a deep breath and turned toward the opossum who stepped out
between the folds of the inner chamber to let him through. “Thank you,
Baerle,” he said with an inclined snout as he stepped past. The warm
radiance of a witchlight glowed within. He put one hand on the soft linen
doorway and slipped through. The cloth trailed down his tail as he
blinked in the light.<br><br>
The inner chamber was arranged as a small sitting room with a single
mirror to help the lady of the house properly correct her adornments
after enjoying then hustle and bustle of the festival. There were two
cushioned chairs and a small trunk tucked beneath the mirror and table
against which rested a fresh willow branch all lit by a trio of
witchlights circling above. Sitting in the chair farthest from the
entrance was his mother, Baroness Kimberly Matthias. She bore an azure
gown with frills along her arms and neck. The amethyst lined stone rested
against her bodice. Her dark eyes fixed on him and her voice, soft and
controlled, met him, “Come in and sit down, Charlie, my son.”<br><br>
He opened his muzzle to speak but could not move his tongue. Dumbly, he
sat down, long tail sliding into hole in the back and pooling on the
cloth covered ground beneath them. His hands gripped his knees and he did
he best to keep his claws from digging into the luxurious fabric. “I...
I'm sorry, mother.”<br><br>
His mother's eyes were so intent, her snout still though not quite able
to hide a faint tremble, that Charlie lowered his until he stared into
her lap. Her hands were wrapped tightly about one another so that her
knuckles were white. Those hands had tended and cared for him when he'd
been weakest and more innocent. He felt shame anew for turning their
gentleness to wrath.<br><br>
“I am sorry. I shamed myself and I shamed my sire.”<br><br>
“Father.”<br><br>
Her voice was so clipped it made him blink open his eyes.
“What?”<br><br>
The Baroness narrowed hers. “He is your father and you will call him so.
Do not use whatever term you've devised to hide that behind your adoption
by Archduke Sutt. Not to your own mother.”<br><br>
He tensed, feeling as sharply upbraided by the reprimand as if he'd been
struck on the backside by the willow branch at her side. “I am sorry I
shamed my father. I am sorry... I am sorry I hurt him and you and all our
family.”<br><br>
Charlie could see the tourney field in his mind, kicked up with dust and
smelling of the sweat of hundreds of Keepers who'd been there and bled
before him. Before him cowered his father, hiding behind a battered
shield, his voice filled with uncertainty, fear, and worry; not worry for
his own life, but for Charlie himself. He had prided himself on
recognizing mood from only the timbre of a speaker's voice and yet he had
failed to hear it when it mattered most.<br><br>
The Matthias clan – his family – had been watching from opposite the High
Box. What must they have felt that in that moment? His younger brother
and sisters, all of whom looked up to him, were either confused or filled
with shock at how violently he had struck at their father. Erick, his
litter-mate who was dear to him in a way he could never express, must
have stumbled in denial, unwilling to admit that his brother would do so
contemptuous a thing. And his mother Baroness Kimberly Matthias, must
truly have been livid, struck to the heart as deeply as the band struck
the Baron in the chest.<br><br>
“I'm so sorry...” Charlie trembled and bent forward, his snout falling
into upturned hands. Another pair of hands caught his shoulders, these
tender and firm. He blinked and look up in time to see his mother wrap
her arms about his shoulder sand pull him tight to her chest. Tears
dripped down her cheeks as she rumpled her dress and his own with her
embrace. Tentatively, Charlie slipped his arms around her back and held
close. His reserve lasted only seconds before his grip pulled taut and he
shuddered, feeling very much a child again needing the comfort of his
mother.<br><br>
Despite being a head taller than his mother, it was her chin that rested
between his ears, and her whiskers that brushed across their tender pink
flesh. He could smell not only the bath salts she scrubbed her fur with
the previous day but the remnant of the coffee she had drunk that morning
to help rouse herself as early as the Sutt household. Between them the
strong and familiar scent of rats filled his nostrils, not just his
mother's unique texture, but that of his many brothers and sisters, but
especially the brittle coolness of his father's musk a blend that always
carried a touch of stone amongst the fur.<br><br>
Charlie made no move to let go, even when the stone medallion about her
neck dug into his chin. He had never had anything but love in his heart
for his mother and he would not change that now. Against her chest he
murmured, “I love you, mother. I'm sorry.”<br><br>
“I love you too, Charlie,” she replied as her arms squeezed him tight one
more time before letting go. She shifted back into her seat. He twitched
his now freed whiskers back into place and sat up a bit. He smiled at the
corners of his snout at those words. With firmer voice she continued, “We
all love you, Charlie. Your brothers and sisters adore you! I love you
with all my heart; not a day goes by that I do not think of you and wish
you were at my side. And your father loves you; he may not say it, but I
know he too thinks of you always.”<br><br>
He took a long deep breath, fighting to regain his reserve lest he become
as emotional as a woman. “I know. I know it and I'm sorry I forgot.”
Charlie closed his eyes and found waiting for him the vision from his
sire's dreams. He ground his molars together and by instinct reached for
his chewstick. But he stilled the motion and forced his eyes open once
more. “But I saw things, mother, I saw things that made me question that
love. Father has... been trying to explain them to me.”<br><br>
“Is that why he came to our chambers so late?”<br><br>
“Aye. I fear I kept him up telling me the story e'en to the midnight
hour.”<br><br>
A brief snort almost seemed to brighten her demeanor. “How like
him.”<br><br>
Curious, he narrowed his eyes. “He said nothing to you?”<br><br>
“No. He tossed and turned in his sleep and did not finally find rest
until shortly before I rose. Our servants are rousing him now so he can
put in a good appearance and quiet the rumors. I expect you to greet him
where you both can be seen.”<br><br>
“As does my...” he stumbled and then continued, “my mother. And
father.”<br><br>
“Charlie,” Kimberly said, stretching out one hand to grasp his own. “Your
father did not need to tell me anything for me to know in my heart what
hurts you so. I may not have raised you, but you are still flesh of my
flesh, you are still my son.”<br><br>
He nodded and sighed. “I hurt because I'm not a Matthias. And there's
more to it than just the powers I share...”<br><br>
She tightened her grip on his hand. “He is telling you about Marzac isn't
he?”<br><br>
His whiskers flicked upward with his eyes. “He's told you the
tale?”<br><br>
Her snout tightened and she shook her head. Her voice was hushed, and her
free hand lifted to her chest to rest upon the purple stone resting
there. “No. Not his part. But I know it haunts him more than anything
else. He has never truly slept well since those days. Most nights he
manages well enough but there are others.... Do not tell him I told you
this, but I have seen him whimper in his sleep like a common
dog.”<br><br>
Charlie felt shame fill him again. “I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't
know.”<br><br>
“Very few do, Charlie. And what he is telling you now he has spoken to
few if any before. I have never heard all of it.”<br><br>
“But you knew,” he said with a sigh. “You knew something was
wrong.”<br><br>
She nodded and patted his hand, offering him a faint smile. “I did. I
could not put it into words but I knew. But it took another to make me
see it for what it was.”<br><br>
His eyes narrowed, curiosity blossoming anew in his heart. “Another? Who?
What happened?”<br><br>
Her smile did not waver, but there was a timorous note to her voice. “I
am not the storyteller your father is, but I'll tell you what happened.
It was only a few days after your father returned from Lake Barnhardt to
help Jessica...”<br><br>
<br>
</font>----------<br><br>
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,<br><br>
Charles Matthias </body>
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