<html> <body> Part 4 of 4. Metamor Keep: Bearing the Wolf-Touched by Charles Matthias May 16, 708 CR The excitement from the dragon's visit did not dwindle with Pharcellus's departure for Metamor. Rather it shifted from the lake to the Glen Commons so there would be more room for Lindsey to move about as he entertained the children and young at heart. After draping a blanket across his back to cover the spines he allowed the children to climb atop him two-by-two; he made a slithering circuit about the upper commons, jostling the children between his wings enough to make them squeal in delight but no more. To the amazement of all the parents, Lindsey seemed to have as much energy as their own children and kept the same frenetic pace well into the afternoon. By early evening everyone was exhausted and while children fell asleep in their parents laps, Glen families clustered in a wide circle on the Commons to listen to the dragon tell a tale from distant Arabarb filled with heroic warriors freeing their home from a tyrant. Garigan took a break from helping Charles ponder all the preparations necessary for their journey to Sondeshara to listen for a time to the young dragon who was once a woman of Arabarb and a man of Metamor. The gray-furred ferret had never known Lindsey as anything other than one of the timber crews and had never heard him tell a tale before. Either he'd possessed a hidden talent or dramatic embellishment was innate to dragons as not only were the children mesmerized by the cadence of words and the sinuous motion of head, neck, tail, and forelegs, but Garigan too felt spellbound, heart trembling in rage at the depredations of Calephas and cheering at the heroic efforts of Alfwig, Elizabaeg, Gerhard, and Jarl, as well as Keeper birds Quoddy, Lubec, and Machias, and of course Pharcellus his unknown older brother. Even the Lutin Yajgaj, who at first Garigan had thought to be an enemy, turned into a friend by the tale's end. The men of the Glen cheered when the tale was over as well as the children who had not fallen asleep. Lindsey sat upon his haunches and bowed his front half, chin a mere claw's breath from the ground, purple-flecked golden eyes bright in the forest sun, and vermilion touched gray scales shimmering in the dancing light of the early evening's first lanterns. Garigan applauded him before trudging back to the Matthias home to avoid being swept up in another adventure. There he found Charles, James, Gibson, and Baron Avery all seated and sharing mugs of cider long-grown cold. They spoke without hurry and after the boisterous applause, it felt a whisper tickling his ears without words. In one corner of the room he saw Jerome crouched on all fours with lupine haunches and human arms and face; his eyes were shut and the lines of Calm were etched upon his scarred countenance. Garigan felt a swell of fury in his breast. This good man had been corrupted and there was nothing Charles could do for him. Garigan could feel the wounds and the change in his fellow Sondecki, and there seemed to him some inkling of what needed to be done, but no matter how he pondered it the answer did not come to him. So much of how to use the Sondeck, once he practiced Charles's training, revealed itself to him without effort. But not this. On their way up the hillside from the lake, Charles had asked Lindsey a few questions about how much of a beast Jerome had become. The dragon's reply had been reserved so only those closest could hear: “He has good days and bad. He will eat, drink, and sleep as a man should for a few days, and then he will do the same as a wolf the next. He returns ashamed of the wolf and ashamed he tried to deny it. He is at his happiest when he is both. We hoped you could help him...” Jerome had come into the Matthias home without complaint and even eaten some food as a man should. But of the cup of cider Charles offered, Jerome could not seem to use it right and ended up setting it on the wood floor and lapping it up. Even the memory of it felt a stab wound. Garigan would find no peace until he helped Jerome be a man again. “Ah, Garigan, welcome back,” Baron Avery said, smiling over the top of his cup. The squirrel's dark eyes glimmered in the dance of witchlights. “Are the dragon's tales finished?” “I think he is starting a new one. He's very good, I didn't expect I would listen so long.” Charles turned and favored the ferret with a broad smile. “I'd wager he's taking lessons from Pharcellus. Now there's a dragon who makes me feel boring!” James brayed in laughter while the rest chuckled; all of them had enjoyed a breathless and long tale or three from the rat. “How are the children?” “Kimberly and Baerle are keeping yours from climbing on Lindsey.” He let his gaze slip to the frog, “Bertram's sleeping in your wife's lap.” He then returned to his liege. “And your boys were having a contest to see who could stuff the most nuts into their cheeks.” Baron Avery beamed and then laughed. “Look at us. We delight in the beastly things our children do and even pride ourselves on our tails and coats of fur, excepting you, Gibson, and yet we fear it in others and hatch grand schemes to rescue them.” He glanced at Jerome but the black-furred ears did not move and his face did not flicker. Garigan knew Jerome was deep in his Calm; he would not hear anything they said. “It is different,” Charles pointed out, whiskers twitching with effort, even as he lowered a hand to stroke along his long, scaly tail. “Tails and fur for us are part of our flesh, but they do not strip away our souls. Touch them, aye, and we may carry them even beyond death if we so love them. But we still reason, even those of us who choose to live and work as the Curses wished to make us.” Avery glanced at the half-wolf man and his expression soured. “I see what you mean. Still, Sir Matthias, you are a knight of the Glen. You have responsibilities here. You have sworn obligations which cannot be neglected. I could order you to remain here.” The rat nodded and sipped his cider. Weariness filled his eyes and frame, but his voice remained strong. “Aye, and I would obey. My disobedience brought this fate to my friend and I would not compound it by further disobedience. But I beg this boon of you, milord. Jerome needs to go to Sondeshara, and I must return with him if I have any hope of fulfilling my obligations to you, to the Narrows, and to the Glen.” “As you have explained,” Baron Avery nodded, running a claw along the rim of his cup. “But before I grant this boon, and I do wish to grant it, I need to know how you intend to see those obligations filled in your absence.” “I've been pondering it from the very moment I laid eyes upon my friend.” The rat stopped, sat up a bit on the couch and turned back to Garigan who still stood a few paces inside the doorway. “Forgive me, Garigan, please join us. Would you care for some cider to drink?” Gibson shifted a little closer to the Baron and Garigan settled down next to him, tail flicking to one side as he sat. “Thank you, Master, but no. Have you decided anything yet?” “To answer both of your questions, some of what I hope to do depends on the answer Pharcellus brings. I am seeking the aid of Archduke Sutt. He has the financial means to transport my family and Jerome to Sondeshara and back again; I believe he will be interested in the voyage as it will provide him opportunities to strengthen his position in Sutthaivasse and Metamor. And there are other reasons I have asked him but they are for my wife and I alone.” “And if he declines?” Avery pressed. Charles shrugged and took a long sip of his cider. The cup empty he set it aside and slumped back into the feather cushions. “I do not know but we will find some way. There are others who I can beg favors from to help pay our way. And I will ask Lindsey and Pharcellus to accompany us so we will have the protection of two dragons; they alone should intimidate all but the most stalwart of enemies.” James's ears lifted, surprise in his eyes. “I will go with you, Charles. You know you can rely on me to be at your side and help.” Charles offered the donkey a fond smile. The rat's eyelids lowered though he struggled to keep them open. “Thank you, my friend, but I am sorry. I need you here to watch over the Narrows.” James flecked his lips, startled at the rejection, but before he could say anything, Charles turned to the squirrel noble and said, “Milord Avery, James is the one man in all of the Glen I trust to act as Steward for my fief in my absence. He has been there with me many times already and knows my hopes and plans for the land. You will find no better defender of my rights than he.” Turning back to the donkey, Charles forced himself to stand and extended a hand toward his friend. “James, good and faithful friend, I offer to you the office of Steward over my house from this day and until you breathe your last. I entrust to you power over all my affairs in my absence and I grant you authority to act in my name. I ask his grace, Baron Brian Avery, and my friends Garigan and Gibson to witness.” The donkey stared at him for several seconds, before glancing at Baron Avery, Gibson, and Garigan in turn; he met only encouragement in their beastly faces. The shock left his eyes and his lips slackened, ears drooping for a moment before lifting up to their full height. The donkey stood, clopped two paces to stand before his friend, and knelt, taking the offered hand in his own. “I accept the office of Steward to your house, Sir Matthias. I will serve your family all my life with honor. I will keep your lands until you return.” “Rise my friend,” Charles said with a broad rat's smile and tugged on the donkey's hand until he did so. “You may have the office of Steward, but you are first and foremost my friend. I wish I could have you at my side on this journey, and you will be dearly missed until the day I set paw in this beautiful land again.” “And we witness your office this day, James, Steward of the Narrows.” Lord Avery stood and placed a hand on the donkey's shoulder. “Congratulations on this honor.” Gibson and Garigan stood to offer him their own congratulations. Garigan felt nothing but pride in the donkey who had won his master's earnest trust. James appeared a trifle embarrassed from the attention and after each had given him their support, they all found their seats again. James fidgeted a bit in his seat, ears folded down against his mane and eyes more focused on his snout than anything else. Charles almost fell into his seat, the sigh of exhaustion hidden beneath the chinking of chain mail he still bore. Still, the rat managed to gesture with one arm between his friends and said, “James knows all of my plans for the Narrows, and Gibson has been of inestimable help in forming those plans. My Long Scout pay should be used to begin clearing some of the forest and building a road. Gibson, I recommend speaking with my fellow rat Julian of Metamor to transport supplies we need from the Keep. I fear it will be some years yet before we can make the land profitable, but I trust my friends will think of ways Garigan...” He did not let his master finish, “I will be coming with you to Sondeshara, Master.” Charles's eyes widened for a moment, but the weariness was stronger and brought them low again. A smile crept along the rat's snout, one of pride. “Aye, Garigan. You must come. You are Sondecki and there you will find what you need. Are you prepared to leave your home behind, possibly for the rest of your days?” The question gave him pause and his eyes stole to Baron Avery. Guilt touched his heart as he met the squirrel's gaze. It took several seconds before he found the words he needed. “I hope to return; this is my home and I am ready to die to protect it. But if I must stay by your side in Sondeshara, I will do so without regret.” He only hoped the words were as true as he meant them to be. And he could not help reflecting on them as Gibson and James told Baron Avery of the plans that Charles had made for the Narrows. The ferret let his eyes trail across the tree rings in the ceiling above them, and all the little touches that made this home the Matthias home in the woodlands of the Glen. He remembered a time when Glen Avery was like any other town of Metamor Valley with wooden homes, thatch roofs, and stone walls, with the trees used only for the scouts. Now the trees were their homes, whether high up in the branches, in the midst of their sinew as fashioned by magic, or in burrows beneath the roots. He loved what had become of his home. Though he had regained some level of comfort in a city like Metamor, his heart yearned for the forest and the simpler life of the woodland village. He knew the names of all but the most recent arrivals from Bradanes or from southern fiefs and while there were some whose company he could not abide, they were all still Glenners and thus his kin. Still, those who had lived dearest in his heart were all gone. His father and mother and all his siblings died in Nasoj's first attack when he was just ten years. With the many other orphans he spent the next few years growing, learning, and training to be a scout for the Glen. The girl he had a crush on, Shelley, became a boy even as he became a ferret when they both turned thirteen. In Nasoj's second attack, his best friend Shelley, the only one who'd ever been able to calm his temper, was slain before he could return to help. Could he truly leave this home and never return? He lifted his eyes and saw that his master had finally fallen asleep. How anyone could fall asleep while wearing chain mail he hoped never to know. Garigan did wonder why Charles seemed so exhausted as he'd never shown a proclivity for sleeping during the day, but his thoughts were interrupted by a loud whump outside so heavy it made the couch tremble beneath him. He, Gibson, and Baron Avery stood up to stare out the open door – he'd left it open as it was such a pleasant day – at a familiar gray-scaled dragon. A trio of sea birds landed next to him even as Pharcellus's shape blurred and shrank. They could all take on a feral shape and so the sight of a creature transforming was nothing new. But they had never seen the red-haired human guise Pharcellus had fashioned for himself. And as he shrank, the three birds swelled to a more human posture as if his mirror. Together, they entered the Matthias home, the young man who was a dragon beaming with delight. “Pharcellus,” Baron Avery said, his voice cracking for a moment as he gathered his composure. “What news do you bring from Metamor?” “Good news, noble squirrel!” Pharcellus offered with a sudden pirouette. “Yon archduke of the flamboyant gesture has agreed to charter a vessel for the great voyage to Sondeshara and back! It will be a vessel befitting his station and the gravity of the mission, or so he claims with verve a dragon can admire.” “And he offered us jobs as messengers and lookouts during the voyage,” the gull proclaimed with delight before realizing they were strangers in the Matthias home. “Oh, do forgive me, but my name is Quoddy and these are my brothers...” Charles jumped from the couch, eyes wide with fright as one hand grasped at his throat and the other reached for a sword no longer on his buckler – he'd removed it on returning home hours past. From his throat erupted a scream more rodent's squeak than human voice. “Shattered manacles! A pool of crystal! Coming! He's coming!” And then just as suddenly he collapsed back onto the couch, clawing at his neck and whimpering. James, sitting next to him, was there first, with Garigan only a moment behind, each grasping the rat from either side. “Charles!” James snapped, throttling his shoulder with a firm shake. “Charles! Wake up!” The rat's eyes blinked open again and he managed to still his hands. He took several deep breaths before finding his voice again. He did not smile, but there was gratitude in his dark eyes. “I am well. It was a dream.” “A nightmare!” James exclaimed. “Manacles? A crystal pool?” “More than a dream,” the rat admitted after another deep breath. Baron Avery and Gibson stood ready to offer help, while Pharcellus kept his place in the doorway. The three birds stayed close to the dragon looking at each other unsure what to do. “It was a memory and a vision.” Charles pushed himself to his feet. Garigan and James helped him stand; neither left his side. The rat turned to face the corner of the room in which Jerome sat on his haunches. His face had distended into a lupine snout, though his arms remained mostly human. Golden eyes peered at the rat, ears lifted and tail straight behind him. The jaws parted and a growling whine came forth; Garigan wasn't sure how he knew, but Jerome, even through the beast, was worried about his brother Sondecki. “I am sorry, my friend, but there is another who I must go to help first. He's coming soon. I must be in Metamor in five day's time if I am to help.” “What are you talking about?” Baron Avery asked. Charles turned his scarred, right eye toward the squirrel. “Something I learned before I woke that night... something I learned after being freed, milord. There are two I must help. Jerome is one. The second is coming soon.” “But what of Archduke Malger? He has agreed to help us,” Garigan asked even as he felt a tremble stir his fur. There was no need for Charles to elaborate which night he spoke of from what he'd been freed. “He has? 'Tis a relief to hear it. We've much still to plan and prepare before we join him at Metamor, but I must precede you for this other's sake. You are all my friends. I couldn't help him before. I'm the only one who might understand his anguish.” Charles waved his hands and settled back down on the couch. “No more questions, please. If you wish to know, stay and I will tell you of him, and how I nearly became as chained as he.” The black cormorant hopped forward on his legs and in a timorous voice asked, “Do you mean, a slave to another's will, Sir Matthias?” “Slave, plaything, and more. But I ask each of you who wish to hear this to swear never to speak of it again. If you do not wish to hear, then you should depart because if I do not speak it now I will not have the courage to help him.” Garigan bent forward as only a ferret could and gripped the rat's shoulder. “We will never abandon you, Master. Never. And we will never break this vow to you.” “Never,” James repeated with a firm nod. Avery and Gibson both nodded. “To my death I shall carry it,” the squirrel tapped his fist to his chest, a grim smile revealing his incisors. All three birds chorused their assent with a similar gesture of wing to breast. Pharcellus was the last, his smile one of sympathy yet eager like a boy for a promised treat. “This would not be the first tale I have sworn to never let pass my tongue. You have my word as well, O Knight Rat!” Charles breathed a happy sigh and lifted his empty cup. “Then let us all share something more to drink and I will begin. Come my friends, listen and I will tell you of the Hound of Revonos!” ---------- This story directly precedes Hallan's recent story Homecoming in case you hadn't figured it out! I hope the dear lion does not mind. :-) May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias </body> </html>