<html> <body> Part 2 of 4 Metamor Keep: Bidding Farewell by Charles Matthias May 24, 708 CR Even with an hour of practice to wear him out Charles did not sleep. He paced the halls of Long House for another hour before taking a hooded lantern and walking to the Keep's library. He did not see Fox Cutter, the librarian, and so meandered down the stacks. He pulled volumes off at random, flipped through the pages and stared at the words. A few times he stared for a minute before he realized the script was in a language he did not know. He eventually found a book with maps of the known world and studied them for a time. He traced his claws along the coastlines of Sathmore and Pyralis; only a few months ago he'd sailed north along those coasts; he'd never expected to see them again, let alone so soon. Turning the pages he found drawings of Kitchlande and Sonngefilde. Ten years ago he'd left. Would he never again leave? His steps carried him from the library. The lantern light swept before him into the gloom of the early hours. The Keep slept and all was silent; he did not even hear any wind outside. Exhaustion urged him to find a quiet corner and collapse, but he kept moving. He had nowhere in mind and for a long time nowhere is where he went. It was still full night out when he found himself at the Cathedral doors. Candles were lit within and his steps drew him forward. He dipped his finger in the font at the doorway and made the sign of the Yew over his snout and chest, eyes lifting to Yahshua above the altar. Tranquility filled his face even as anguish consumed his flesh. Charles slid down to his knees and gazed. And prayed. There were words but not many. A yearning trickled from his heart, threatening to become a flood. Something held the torrent back, but the rat did not know what. His gaze became distracted and he stared anywhere but the Yew for minutes at a time before he forced his eyes back upon the visage of his redeemer. He wanted to cry but there were no tears. Something beat at a door inside. His eyes moved again, finding a depiction in glass of the Holy Mother Yanlin accepting the gift of her son. The face was typical of the northern clime of Metamor, soft with dark hair and white cheeks. There was no light behind the glass and not enough before it for him to make out any other colors. Yet a smile still touched his snout and the tension within him eased as he marveled at her. His final moment Beyond the clouds had opened and through them she had smiled. Beauty, love, all goodness, radiated from her glance, transforming an instant to an eternity. The memory comforted the little rat on his knees, and he was able to lift his eyes to adore his savior hanging upon the Yew again. His tongue moved at last, and in a whisper he prayed. “Lord Yahshua, I am afraid. I know you love me and your will for me is my salvation. I know I have received graces beyond measure. Thank you for each and every one. Thank you for my wife and children. Thank you for my friends. Thank you for this wonderful home. I am frightened I will never see it again. Help me to trust your will, Lord Yahshua, whatever it may be.” He made the sign of the Yew again but found no more words to add to his prayer. The anguish in his heart still hurt, but more of an injury healing than an injury received. He knelt in quiet adoration, eyes tracing across the crucified image of Yahshua for many minutes. His ears lifted at the sound of a door opening, and his head half-turned on instinct to see what it was. Not far from him, one of the doors to the residences for Father Hough and his seminarians opened. Another rodent poked its head out and cast a glance across the sanctuary. Their eyes met and the jerboa Questioner's whiskers twitched in apology. Charles made the sign of the Yew again, rose, and walked toward the priest. Seeing him approach, Father Felsah hopped out the door and eased it closed behind him. The Questioner's black robes had been shortened considerably, and now gave his long feet enough room to hop without tangling. Small even compared to Charles, the jerboa offered a delicate playful appearance more likely to inspire other Keepers to pet his ears than to tremble in fear. Yet there was still something intimidating about him. “Good morning, Father,” Charles said with a dip of his head and in a quiet voice. “I'm sorry if I disturbed your slumber.” Felsah waved a paw. “I was not sleeping. I apologize for disturbing your prayers, Sir Matthias. Is there something I can help you with?” Charles reached down to his side but he had no chewstick there to sate his nervous teeth. His claws dug into the empty space at his leg instead, while he stammered, “Well, I... I was hoping Father... um... Hough... um... could hear my confession.” A small twitch at the edge of Felsah's whiskers bespoke a smile. “Father Hough is visiting Iron Mine this week and next. I can hear your confession, Sir Matthias. I have a great deal of experience hearing confessions of a... hem... supernatural nature.” Charles blinked and stared at the jerboa whose head only came up to his shoulder if he stretched. “How... how did you know?” Felsah lifted his ears and his dark eyes brightened. “We are both rodents, Sir Matthias. We have large ears for hearing many things. Mine are substantial.” Charles looked at them. Both were as long as his head from nose to neck and almost as wide. And then the rat stifled a chuckle; Felsah had told him a joke, one he'd used many a time before. “Thank you, Father. I'm ready.” “Then follow me.” Felsah hopped toward the confessionals in a bouncing gait. Charles cast one glance back at Yahshua before following. ---------- Kimberly woke to her husband returning from a nocturnal haunt and collapsing into bed. It was not the first time since the terrible night she'd been roused by a determined skunk and forced to fight for her husband's soul. She knew it would not be the last. So far she had said nothing to him; instead she clutched the purple stone tighter to her chest and loved him through it. With one last kiss she positioned it within her bodice so it could be close to her heart. The children were all still asleep, so after attiring herself, Kimberly gently roused Baerle and told her what she wanted. The opossum was always ready to help tend the children and wasted no time in helping her friend. Kimberly would sorely miss having her along on the journey south. After Baerle was ready, Kimberly checked on her husband. Charles was sprawled on his chest with only one leg under the quilt; his tail sticking straight up before bending over and dangling off the side. He cradled the feather pillow under his arm and his jaws were open in a slow grinding snore. Kimberly smiled and shook her head. She lifted his tail and slipped it down between his legs, and then pulled the quilt up over his back until it just touched the tip of his ears. She pressed the end of her snout to the top of his head in a kiss and then left him to get his sleep. Even as she did, her ears lifted at the sound of a little voice squeaking. Her children were awake. Kimberly and Baerle dressed the four little rats and then took them to the main hall of Long House to romp and play. The other Long children were also up and playing various games and though they were far too young for most of them, the Matthias sons and daughters tried to join them. Some of the other mothers joined them and showed them where they could relax in comfort on one of the balconies. Before long they were sipping hot tea, nibbling fresh biscuits, and sharing stories of raising children and looking after their husbands. Most days at the Glen started in the same way. In the Summer they would often receive a visit from the hedgehog Mrs. Levins bearing a pie or three, as well as any one of the many young mothers eager to let the children play while their husbands were off on scouting duty. Sometimes Kimberly and Baerle would take the children to do the visiting. And even though she did not know the Long Scout mothers very well, it comforted her just the same. At some point Madog appeared and started giving her children rides as he walked around. Little Charles and Erick demanded the metal fox go faster, Bernadette sat like a princess, and little Baerle had to be coaxed to stay on his back. Kimberly touched the polished purple stone, enigmatic gift of the mage Murikeer, through her clothes and knew her Charles would love to see them playing together. Not long after, and after they finished a third round of biscuits and a second round of tea, one of the mothers, a short white-furred Terrier named Sylia, pointed toward the main hall and murmured. “It's the Steward! I've never seen him come to Long House before.” Kimberly turned to see and felt a warm delight touch her heart. Garbed in his usual red robes strode the large green-scaled alligator who was Steward of the House Hassan. Thalberg looked around with his yellow eyes atop long blunt-nosed head, long tail almost dragging behind his laconic steps. “Oh, excuse me, I must go see him.” She passed the rabbit Padraic on the stairs down who tried to stop her. “Milady, there's somebody...” “I know!” She called back before hurrying down to the main hall. When she emerged she moved as swift as her feet would carry her without ruining her balance as the Steward had taught her. He saw her coming and took a few steps toward her before lowering his reptilian bulk to one knee. He still was a head taller. “Milady Kimberly,” he said in his basso rumble. “I've come to wish you a safe journey. Is there anything I can do for you and your family to help you on your way?” “Milord Steward,” she laughed, breathless, and almost startled. Until moving to Glen Avery the year before, she had spent her days working in the Keep's kitchens preparing meals for Duke Thomas and all his household. The hours were long and mistakes were not tolerated; Thalberg ruled the kitchens and he expected only the best from all. And while he had never been unkind, and often showed consideration for times when a loved one was ill, there had always been a hardness in him which kept them separate. She'd seen there was a gentle pride in the alligator on her wedding day when he had acted in the stead her own father would have refused her, bringing her to the altar to give her to Charles. Now she saw it again, though this time it felt natural, as if his hard edges had already been worn smooth by something else. Even if the rat in her wanted her to flee from a monstrous face filled with fangs, the lady in her saw the nobility and chivalry in the man behind the yellow eyes. “Thank you for coming, milord,” she said, smiling and lowering her eyes as she returned his greeting. “In truth I do not know if I need anything. Whatever seems best to you for my family's sake will be more than enough. I am just so glad you came to see us.” “Then I will see to it you are well provisioned for your journey.” Kimberly gasped. “But it will take us many months to reach Sondeshara! Surely you cannot spare so much!” A laugh seemed to echo in Thalberg's yellow eyes. “Easily and more, milady.” He reassured her with a slight but warm smile which was all he could proffer without an undue display of numerous teeth. “Where Metamor has friends, you and your family have friends too. This much I can do.” Kimberly marveled at him, at a loss for words. What words could express her gratitude? Instead she stepped forward and threw her arms about him, hands griping the ridges along his back even through his robes. Thalberg's heavy scaled arms gently held her. She could feel the underside of his jaw between her ears. When they parted, she said, “You love her, don't you, milord?” “Pardon?” “Miriam. Your lady alligator. You love her.” Thalberg stammered, the first time she ever recalled seeing the Steward of Metamor embarrassed. “Well, I... uh... I have been helping her... being an alligator... I...” And then he seemed to realize what he was doing and let out a rumbling laugh so deep his robes fell open at the front, exposing some of the broad yellow scales at the top of his chest. “I suppose. I care for her very much.” His eyes became reproving. “I suppose your friends in the kitchens have been gossiping?” “Aye,” Kimberly admitted with a little laugh. “But I didn't need to hear it from them to know. I can see it in you, milord. I can see you love a woman; they just told me her name.” For a moment it seemed Thalberg would object or take offense, but then his eyes brightened again and a chortle filled him. “Ah, Kimberly, you have been missed in the kitchens. I will pray the gods protect you on your journey.” “And I will pray for you and Miriam.” Thalberg lifted his eyes and his jaws opened in a reptilian grin. “Now, I do have a few minutes before I must return. I would very much like to see your delightful children again, if I have your permission.” Kimberly couldn't help but imagine Thalberg tromping around as a full alligator with four rat's on his back. “Of course. Come with me, milord!” ---------- Everything was arranged, but there was still so much left to do! Malger had not hesitated to agree to Duke Thomas's request. It necessitated little change in travel arrangements but the imposition was small and would perhaps allow matters to work more favorably. Even so, he spent the better part of the rest of the day seeing to the arrangements with his caravan master, the bison Hesgebaern. While Hesgebaern would not be accompanying them beyond the port in Menth, the bison was well acquainted with provisioning long voyages and offered advice on what to take and how much. And Malger spent all of the next morning writing various messages to ensure those careful arrangements were kept. Hesgebaern had been sent to inspect the wagons Julian and the other rats provided – which Charles insisted on using – with Versyd in tow to help inspect the horses. Malger was fairly confidant he knew what Versyd would suggest and was open to the idea so long as it did not offend the rats. The stallion would also remain behind while they journeyed, to continue his training in Metamor. It eased the already considerable number of Metamorans crowding onto one boat, and eased the stallion's rather pointed dislike of water travel in general. He had become a horse to keep the ground under his hooves, he explained, his distress barely hidden under his respectful tone, not to sway hither and thither on the water. Apparently, Malger discovered, the horse became horribly seasick even on relatively calm lake waters. The skunk mage Murikeer had also demurred respectfully stating his desire to establish himself in Metamor before charging off on another youthful adventure. Thus it would be only Misanthe remaining at his side, and the trio of sea birds who he'd retained as messengers. And two of them would need to leave. Malger, his work now done, offered the trio a satisfied smile. The Keep had provided him expansive lodgings suited to his station with windows looking across the Keep's towers at the Duke's residence. The furnishings were spare as if Kyia had known Malger would prefer to populate them on his own, but at least there had been a writing desk and cushioned chair suitable to his wiry frame. In this chair he turned, affixing the final seal and slipping the letter into a protected pouch one of the birds could wear on their chest. “This letter must be delivered to Captain Calenti of the Dolphin's Leap. She's a Kasshet hull moored in Menth; you'll recognize her by the leaping dolphins on the prow and mainsail. I and our friends will be leaving by wagon and carriage tomorrow and should arrive in a week's time. But because there may be delays or other communication, I want two of you to go to Menth together, while the third remains here. This way, if Calenti needs to send me a message, he'll have one of you to send, and another to remain in case a message is missed. As to who stays and who goes, I leave it up to you. Choose, my friends, for this message must be delivered without delay!” Perhaps a bit theatrical for a simple message but his performance pleased the brothers. All three were in their largest anthro forms at Malger's request; they had spent so much time among real birds they'd adopted their mannerisms. Having three pairs of webbed-footed beady eyed birds watching his every move made him wonder if they'd snatch a morsel of dropped bread from the floor should he dare. He had every intention of putting to full use their comfort in avian guise, a comfort he did not yet share. Malger had very seldom attempted to assume the minor form all animal cursed Metamoran's could grasp; he felt keenly vulnerable being so small. Nor had he sought the bulky quadrupedal 'taur forms he had seen others practice. He was comfortable in the bipedal form he had been given which was more than satisfactory for his needs. It was bad enough Misanthe still ran around on all fours. What would people say if all of his servants were always animals! Quoddy the gull and eldest, turned his beak back and forth between his brothers and said, “Shall we play Earth, Air, Water?” Machias the puffin and youngest of the three almost danced on his webbed feet, his colorful beak cracked into what Malger had learned was the avian equivalent of a grin. “Sounds good to me! Winners go or winner stays?” The middle brother, Lubec the black-feathered cormorant, shrugged his wings. “With three players it always easier if winner stays.” “Winner stays it is then,” Quoddy nodded, and then he leaned his head forward and closed his eyes. His brothers framed him and did the same so their beaks were nearly touching. “One, two, and three!” Quoddy tilted his head back, beak pointing up. Machias and Lubec lowered theirs. They all opened their eyes, and Quoddy squawked. “Hmmm, I win! I guess I'm staying then.” Malger laughed and waved one hand. “I have never heard of this game. What just happened?” “Earth, Air, Water... it's something we came up with after our first year with the flocks,” Lubec said, turning his head form side to side as if working out a tight muscle. “Quoddy picked Air and we picked Water. We fly in the Air, feed in the Water, and sleep on the Earth. You cannot eat if you do not fly, so Air beats Water. You cannot fly if you do not sleep, so Earth beats Air. And you'll never wake up if you do not eat, so Water beats Earth.” “And for Earth you just hold your beak out straight like this.” Machias leaned forward slightly to demonstrate. “So do we need another round to determine who will carry the message?” Malger asked, lifting the pouch, an amused chuff escaping his throat. “Machias can have it,” Lubec offered with a stretch of his wings. “I carried the last one so it's only fair.” Machias and Lubec shared parting wing-hugs with their older brother and then both shrank down to normal bird size. Malger helped secure the pouch on the puffin's chest and then both puffin and cormorant jumped from the window into the air, wings spread and beating. A minute later they had climbed high enough to orient themselves and began flying away to the south. Quoddy watched them go until they were well out of sight. He turned at last and asked, “Is there anything you need of me, then, your grace?” Malger swept his arm across his desk and then leaned back on the chair, propping his feet on an ottoman. “For now, we relax until Hesgebaern and Versyd return. And then we can attend the farewell gathering Sir Misha Brightleaf is hosting at Long House for Sir Matthias and family. I expect all of us to attend. And as human as we can be!” A little fox's voice replied from beneath the chair. “Of course, Ma... Malger.” Malger chuffed again and daydreamed how attractive Misanthe his vixen would look in the gown he had commissioned which he had yet to present to her. ---------- Charles woke a little before the noon meal so broke his fast with his family, his fellow Longs and their families. Misha had left to attend to some errands in the morning but the Longs assured Charles he would return in the afternoon. With nothing more to do he spent some time practicing with the other Longs and playing with his children. He dueled swords with his two sons using wooden practice staves, and then after letting himself be killed a few times, sat down with his little girls who were pretending to share tea and biscuits with their fabric dolls. A perfect afternoon. He excused himself when Misha returned. The fox looked weary, with one ear lowered, and both eyes drooping, but he became alert when the rat neared. “Ah, you did finally wake up! Lady Kimberly told me you did not come to bed until nearly dawn.” “I've not had an easy time sleeping of late, and thought of leaving Metamor only made it worse last night. I should sleep better tonight.” “I know I asked last night, but I must ask again.” The fox put a hand on the rat's shoulder; Charles felt the slight prick of claws through fur. “Must you really go?” “Aye, I must. If I have any hope of coming back here, I must go.” “Then will you not take one of my sister's gems? They would allow us to communicate and make sure you are all right.” “I thank you for the offer, Misha, but I know you only have a few of those stones. They are better used here at Metamor to keep the valley safe. We will have messengers if the need to send a message is dire. And there is nothing you could do to help us if our need were immediate. It is a four month journey by boat; not even a dragon could attempt the distance in less than a few weeks. No, Misha, keep them here where they do the most good.” The fox sighed and shook his head. “I know you're right, Charles, but I don't like it. You've just returned and here you are leaving again.” “Believe me I would rather stay. I was looking forward to a quiet Summer with my family. Now... now at least I'll have them with me, but it will be dangerous like nothing I faced before.” Misha offered him a dubious look. “Hordes of hell creatures dangerous?” Charles chortled and shook his head, thumping his tail once for emphasis. “Well, not that dangerous!” “Heh. I know you mean more dangerous for your family.” “My children especially. I cannot help but think of all the dangers waiting for them out there, and they unaware! You and everyone else laughs in delight to see them romp through Long House, but you have no idea the heroic efforts of Lady Kimberly and Baerle to keep them from hurting themselves and to teach them how to behave. And they have still bruises and cuts and any number of bonked heads or pinched tails. Bruises and cuts are part of childhood, but an inch more to the left or the right, and it could have been broken bone or stitch-worthy gash! I am more afraid watching them play than I am in battle!” “I don't doubt it. Laura, Meredith, and the other Longs with children have all warned me of the same. I know I caused my own dear father and mother some exasperation. But on a ship there will not be many places for them to run, and there will be many others, including some of your friends there, who can help keep an eye on them.” “And much they can learn. It is the right choice, but ah!” Charles glanced to where his children were playing with the other Long children – some game of tag he thought – and then back to his friend. “Misha, thank you for letting me fight by your side one last time before we must part. I dearly hope I will be able to do so again.” Misha gripped his shoulder and his jowls drew back in a vicious grin. “And thank you for fighting by my side. We will do so again even if I have to fly to Sondeshara to do it!” “You would be most welcome.” Charles put his hand on the fox's shoulder too. The two warriors regarded each other, grips tight, muscles tensed, eyes alight with an eager fire. Though it had only been two years they had known each other, each felt the other had his been his friend for two decades. For a moment, Charles regretted his refusal of the communication gem. “I have an idea; let us practice together and promise to do so again in a year.” “Will you be back in a year?” “We might be a month or two delayed if we do return,” Charles admitted. “But we'll have messenger birds with us to warn you of our coming. And if I am not allowed to leave Sondeshara for a much longer time, well, we still have messenger birds and dragons!” Misha pondered for a moment before his only ear lifted and a determined grin crossed his snout. “It is agreed! Come, let us choose weapons for each other.” “Eh?” The grin became mischievous. “Well, we have to make it interesting, do we not?” The rat laughed and stepped after his friend. “By all means. Choose for me and I shall choose for you, fox!” ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias </body> </html>