<html> <body> I apologize for the long delay in posting the final part to my story. Just as I was getting it all done two weeks ago, my computer crashed on me and entered its final death throes. My email no longer worked and I only had enough time to make sure I had all of my important data off the PC before it finally decided it wouldn't even boot up in Safe Mode anymore! Thankfully I saved everything. I'm currently working off my lap top and hope to have a new PC soon (I hate typing on a Laptop, the keys are too small and too close together). Here's the final part of my story. I hope everyone has a Blessed Easter! Part 3 of 3 Metamor Keep: Dance of the Betrothed by Charles Matthias Erick hummed a tune as he led his betrothed and her protector along familiar forest trails to the clearing his sisters loved. It felt good to be out of the cramped keep and away from any teasing from Bertram or his sisters. Astride a horse in the woods, the scents of trees and little animals touching his nose and whiskers, a rat could feel at peace. He glanced behind every so often to make sure Lenora and Clark were keeping pace. His betrothed rode with one hand gripping the saddle horn and the other pressed to her chest, head turned so both her eyes could watch him; those red eyes, the more they fixed on him, the larger they seemed. Erick never let his gaze linger on her, always shifting to the bear who followed the horses with trained silence before turning back to path ahead. The clearing was not far from the Keep, but the trail twisted around the folds of earth at the base of the mountains so the ten minute ride seemed much longer and much further. Erick had traveled these woods with his father many times as a child, and after they moved to the Narrows had played and trained in them; he and his sisters knew the trees so well they even named some. As they rode past he whispered each name in greeting, offering the tree a smile and tip of his new hat. The clearing was on a gradual slope up one of the smaller peaks framing the valley and had been formed when a large oak toppled in a brutal snow storm not long before Erick was born. The oak and snow knocked over other nearby trees, leaving a wide open space in which mountain grasses, flowers, and now blueberry bushes flourished. Little shoots of pine appeared every Spring but they always uprooted them to keep the clearing for themselves. “Here we are,” Erick announced as they emerged from the wood. Warm sunlight bathed the field in radiant greens, blues, yellows, and pinks as wildflowers swayed in a light breeze off the mountain. Many of the bushes were laden with ripe berries, though most branches had already been cleared by his sisters in the last few weeks or by the local fauna. Erick slipped from his saddle and guided his horse to one of the bushes where he secured the reins. The horse happily cropped the grass and flowers while he stretched. “Lovely isn't it, milady?” He asked as he gestured around the clearing. Lenora rode her bay mare who clopped after his stallion and began grazing nearby. She looked around and a smile touched her face. “There are so many flowers, Sir Erick. I've never had blueberries from the bush before.” “It's when they taste best!” He motioned for her to follow, then grimaced and walked toward her, feeling an idiot. “Here, let me help you down.” He reached up, gripped her middle and eased her down from the saddle. Her tail slid over the back of the saddle and thumped to the ground a moment after her feet had settled in the swaying grass. The hem of her dress brushed through the flower petals and little specks of color stained it. Lenora yanked the hem of her dress out of the grass and Erick felt his heart sink. “Oh, I'm so sorry. I hadn't thought...” But his betrothed shook her head. “It will clean well enough.” She let go of her dress and offered him an assuring smile. “Do you come here often, Sir Erick?” “My sisters come here once or twice almost every week once Spring arrives. Bertram and I often come along when our duties allow us.” He gestured toward a bush still laden. “Come, milady, you must be hungry.” Lenora followed while Clark tended to her horse and kept watch from a respectful distance. Erick was grateful for his presence as it meant none could accuse either of them of a clandestine indiscretion. Whether he liked his marriage bed or not he would go to it undefiled in both deed and word. A dozen paces away was a small semi-circle of bushes; the side facing the woods had all been picked clean, but the inside of the curve facing the mountains was still lush. The bushes had grown almost as tall as the rats and so Erick didn't even need to bend over to test the berries. He squeezed one between his fingers and juice smeared his soft pink flesh and around his claws. “Excellent. They're perfect!” He pulled the berry free and plopped it on his tongue where he crunched it and let the juices soak through his maw. A trickle escaped his snout and he wiped it with the back of his hand before swallowing. “Here, why don't you try some?” Lenora took an uncertain step toward him and her red eyes looked up and down the bush. She glanced once at his hands, already purplish-blue from his very first berry, and then down at her own still bright and clean. What was she worried about, it was just a little juice? A good scrubbing and it would come clean. “You'll never have any if you don't pick them!” Erick chided her as he plucked another blueberry free and tossed it to the back of his tongue. He bounced it from molar to molar before chewing; this time he swallowed ere the juices could stain his chin. “It's not hard. Here, let me show you.” “I didn't think to bring anything to clean ourselves, Sir Erick,” Lenora admitted with drooped whiskers. “Your hands are already a mess!” “You should have seen the youngest after Bernadette and Baerle took them here last week to pick berries. I think they had more on them then in the baskets or in their tummies! Trust me, milady, we at the Narrows are used to cleaning rat fur!” Her whiskers lifted and a chittering laugh escaped her throat. Her eyes brightened as Erick took one of her hands in his and guided it to a plump berry; he positioned her fingers at the base and he let go. “Now, just give it a little twist and you'll have picked your first blueberry, milady!” Lenora did so and on her third try the berry came free. She cradled it, ginger and uncertain, before setting it between her incisors. Juice sprayed forward as she bit and Erick laughed. Lenora swallowed the rest and dabbed her snout with one of the leaves, shooting him a glare. “You'll make an even worse mess if you bite it with your incisors! I'm sorry, milady, I should have warned you. How was the blueberry?” “Delicious! I did not know they could be so sweet and tart!” Lenora eyed the many more berries thrust out from the bush and then turned her red eyes upon the knight. “Well, Sir Erick, are you going to select some for me? I know which to chose in the market square, but which do we pick here?” “Any will be good this time of year. Just pick the biggest ones you see.” Lenora's snout and whiskers seemed to twist into a displeased moue and Erick could only shake his head. She had fingers and claws; surely she could pick her own. He plucked a handful free, letting them jostle together between his fingers as he settled down on a small rock to watch her as he ate. His betrothed took her time examining the berries before selecting another. She bent down a little, her tail lifting in a comely pose, as she worked her fingers underneath the berry. It took her a few twists to work the berry free; this time she plopped it in her mouth and ate; she licked her fingers and claws as clean as she could before starting her search for a third. “If you hold them a little tighter you'll get them off easier.” Lenora flicked her ears at his words but said nothing. He ate two more berries before she found another she wanted. Again she bent over and Erick caught himself admiring her lovely almost-white tail as it arched in the air. He could hear Bertram's croaking taunts already and grumbled to himself. Aye, she is lovely and pleasing to the eye! Now go soak your head you silly frog! “Oops!” Lenora squeaked when her third blueberry popped free and right out of her hands. She hiked her dress higher as she went to her hands and knees to find it in the tall grass and wildflowers. Erick was up from his rock and at her side in a moment. “Watch out and keep still! You could squash it with your knees if you move around.” She nodded and cast a quick glance at both knees but the fur was still white. He bent over beside her and together they pushed the grass aside until the slippery blueberry was found at the base of a small patch of yellow flowers. Erick lifted it and she leaned back on her knees and opened her mouth. He set it on her tongue, remembering the many times he and his sisters had done the same for each other. “Thank you, Sir Erick,” she said as she stood and brushed at the grass stains adorning her dress; most came off. “Had I known we were going to pick blueberries I would have worn something more sensible!” He grimaced and plopped another blueberry between his molars. He'd hoped she would love the clearing, but she was dressed for the castle, not the forest. “I apologize for the ruin I have brought to your dress, milady! Perhaps we should go back to the Keep.” Lenora shook her head and offered him a smile. “It is just a dress. I'm sorry I made such a fuss over it. Teach me how to pick the blueberries and the flowers and I will try not to worry about this little thing.” She plucked at her dress and lifted both whiskers and ears in a broad rat smile. “You know, you do look better here in the woods, Sir Erick. You look more comfortable here than you ever did on your visits to Metamor.” Erick felt a flush touch his ears. His heart thumped and he took a step back, stammering, “Well, I... I guess I... I grew up in Glen Avery; I was born and raised inside a tree. They're... home to me. Wood is... warmer than stone and I... I guess it's more friendly too. Stone is good I suppose.” He thought of his father and the scars of stone and his heart beat even faster. “And there is a lot of stone I love and cherish, but... I... oh I guess I just love the forest more. It's home. You understand, right?” Lenora nodded and cast her eyes upward and than off into the woods; Erick could tell she was trying to see something not there. “Oh, aye, I do. I do.” She bent over and tried to pluck another blueberry. “Here, let me help you.” As he stood by her side and showed her how, he could see Bertram croaking another salacious ballad. He wrinkled his nose and whiskers at the mere thought. Shut up, frog! ---------- By the time they returned to the Narrows Keep her dress was ruined by the grass and flowers and occasional spurts of blueberry juice, but it was a small price to pay to save Erick from further embarrassment. Her hands and the fur around her mouth were also marred by blue stains she could not seem to remove, but in this she was no worse off than Erick or even her protector Clark. The bear said nothing as was his way, but she knew he'd gorged himself with his own patch of blueberry bushes. At least the blueberries had been delicious and the scent of flowers very pleasing. Despite the stains she had enjoyed herself as she ate and stole glances of her betrothed. To her even greater delight, she had caught him admiring her several times. Usually it was her tail, but when he thought she couldn't see he'd also admired her ears, face, and snout. At least he didn't seem bothered by her red eyes; far too many could not help but find them unsettling, even those who'd lived at Metamor their whole lives. After stabling the horses Erick escorted her back to the keep where she excused herself to the chambers in the Inn the Matthias family always reserved for them. Her maid-servant, who had arranged all of her things in the three rooms she, her father, Clark, and their personal servants would share for the few weeks they would stay in the Narrows, removed the ruined gown and gave her an impromptu bath in freshly heated water. It took a bit of scrubbing but the blueberry stains did come out of her hands and fur and soon after she was dried and attired in a mahogany-brown gown with russet lace surplice to compliment her eyes and make the white of her fur even brighter than a fuller's bleach. Dinner followed not long after and it was the first time since they'd arrived she saw her father. All of the Matthias children were excited to have their Uncle Julian there for a visit and her father had wisely made sure each of them had received their gift before dinner. He sat next to the Baron and Baroness. Gibson sat beside him and she next to Gibson so she could sit with Bernadette and Baerle and talk more freely during the meal. Erick and Bertram sat across from her and she tried not to listen in on the frog's playful needling of her betrothed. As a night of welcome to guests, the Matthias family offered a sumptuous feast of roast mutton in a dark, spicy sauce once popular at court. This was preceded by courses of soup, fruit and vegetables, cheese, fish, and truncheons of bread and potato, followed by more cheese and fruit with dipping creams of various flavors, and finally cake and a bitter cup of coffee after all the wine. Lenora ate as much as she could after so many blueberries in the afternoon, and watched Erick as often as she could. Her betrothed filled his plate anew for each course and while he never quite managed to empty it, still ate more than three times what she could have managed even on an empty stomach. Was this the appetite of a warrior, or indulgence at a rare feast? The dinner extended well into the evening; the youngest litter of Matthias children who were boisterous and noisy at the start were all cranky or nodding off by the end; the Baroness and the older daughters all helped carry the little ones off to bed. When they returned, her father expressed his own interest in retiring for the evening. The Baron was gracious and bid them a pleasant night sleep and many beautiful days in the Narrows ahead. Lenora offered Erick a parting smile before she followed her father from the great hall and out of the Keep. Despite his professed fatigue, her father walked a spirited pace and both she and Clark had to rush to keep up. He whistled a tune with a familiar air of satisfaction and it made her heart rush. Discussions with the Baron must have gone very well indeed if her father were in such a good mood. He did not slacken his pace until they entered the nearby Inn and even then it was mere courtesy to avoid running into the many folk preparing for the numerous guests they would receive in the weeks ahead. When they reached their rooms, her father first turned to Clark and said, “You did well today running all about the Narrows after my future son-in-law. Get your sleep, my friend, I do not think we need fear assassins this night!” “I will be all the more ready tomorrow, Master Julian,” Clark assured them in his basso rumble. The bear inclined his head respectfully toward her father, and then patted her on the head between her ears. Lenora chittered in appreciation and then wondered; would she be able to keep her protector after she married? After Clark left to the room fronting their own, Julian turned toward their personal servants. His was a gray-muzzled mouse who'd come to Metamor many years ago in search of healing. Hers was a cursed-born shrew who'd lost her parents during the last attack against the Keep and whom her father gave a home after Lenora was born. “Willem, Hallie, you've both done well this day. The rooms are just as I like them! Prepare comfortable clothes for us tomorrow and then you may enjoy the rest of the evening as you see fit. Lenora and I will prepare ourselves for bed this night and we'll leave our garments in your room to tend in the morning.” “It is our pleasure, Master Julian. You and milady enjoy a pleasant night's sleep,” Willem offered with a chitter and pleased twitch of whisker and ear. Hallie smiled and gave Lenora a quick hug, “You must tell me all about your day in the woods with the dashing young knight tomorrow, milady!” Lenora chittered a laugh and hugged the shrew in return. “Oh, I will, I will. Goodnight, Hallie.” After both servants left, her father stretched and sat down on his bed. Their room was at a corner, with windows in two walls to keep the air fresh. There were two beds opposite the windows with modest frames but comfortably stuffed with thick curtains to keep them warm in the cold mountain air. A wardrobe occupied the corner between the windows, while a writing desk and a service filled the remainder of the room, offering a token of comfort for the well-to-do traveler. The door next to her father's bed led to the other two rooms they had, those for their servants and their supplies. The door next to Lenora's bed was locked and led to a secret staircase down to a hidden exit if ever they needed to flee the Inn. “Ah, I know Lenora... I know. You wish to hear of the negotiations! Ah, I am blessed to have you as my daughter. Come, sit beside me; we may have eaten but my incisors could stand a chew.” She sat next to him and smiled. “Mine as well. Are things here as difficult as we heard?” Her father took two short sticks from his pouch and handed her one. They were flavored with a touch of honey and peach juice, and made a sweet chore. They both soothed their incisors for a full minute before he lowered his and gave a deep sigh. “If not more difficult, but Charles will come to my way of thinking in a few days. The men we arranged to supplant his crews will be here in a week if all goes well. Charles has already made generous offers to both stone masons and the engineers yet they still refuse to work. Let us see how fears of starvation suit them. They break guild practice to demand so much and must be taught a lesson. Charles is a good man and dear friend, and he can build a beautiful city here too in time.” “But?” “But he needs to be convinced sometimes he does no wrong to punish those who would take advantage of his generosity. You may need to teach Sir Erick the same lesson in time. It has been too long since Charles has had enemies; he knows how to fight with sword and pen but not with coin. But,” Julian smiled and lifted the chewstick to his incisors again, “he has earned our friendship many times over and deserves all we can give. In a few days he'll see things our way, Lenora. In two weeks time the stone masons and engineers will be working again or they will have no work at all.” Lenora smiled around her stick as she listened. She had seen her father do something similar when some of their drivers or soldiers demanded more coin than the rest. There were always plenty of folk in Metamor willing to drive a team of horses or lift a sword or bow in defense. They sat in quiet but for teeth grinding into wood and for the evening village voices drifting up through their cracked windows. Compared to Metamor it may as well have been as silent as an empty temple. She slid her tail along the bed-quilt until it brushed against her father's. He tilted his head toward her, warm red eye searching her face. He said nothing until he finished his chewstick. “And how was your day, my flower? I hear Sir Erick took you to the forest to pick wild blueberries.” “He did. I fear the lovely white dress you bought me may be ruined. I only asked him to show me some place in the Narrows he loves. He loves the forest, Father.” “He grew up in a tree. You remember visiting it when you were little. I still remember the first time you tried to climb those branches with Natalie.” He chittered a laugh and his smile warmed her. “Did you enjoy the places he showed you?” “I would have more if I had not been worried after my dress so. The woods were beautiful, the flowers very pretty, and the blueberries were delicious. It was so quiet though. Everything here is too quiet.” “Except their dinner table!” Lenora frowned, ears dropped, and cast her father a withering glare. “You know what I mean.” “Aye, it is certainly quieter here than in Keeptowne. But the Narrows are young. With time and cultivation this place will seem just as noisy and full of life as our home.” Her father ran his claws through the fur behind her ears, something he'd often done to comfort her when she was young. “Does the quiet bother you?” “It... doesn't seem right. It makes me anxious, Father.” “Is it the only thing?” Lenora took her last few bites of her chewstick then set her hands in her lap, smoothing the wrinkles out of her burgundy evening dress. “I don't think he wants to marry me, Father. I'm afraid he won't love me because I prefer the city and only feel awkward or anxious in the forest village. I don't want to marry someone who won't love me, Father. I don't want to be away so far from you and everything I know.” She surprised herself when she felt tears dripping down her cheeks. She thrust her arms around her father's chest and pressed her face in tight. Julian continued to run his hands down the back of her head and neck while his other arm pulled her in close. “Sir Erick is a good rat, Lenora. He may be older than you, but he is still young and there is still the boy in him. It takes men longer to know they must love a woman. If today he showed you a place dear to him, then you can rest assured he does care about you. Love will grow in time. All true love does. It is not a thing known in a moment, but cultivated and deepened with every sacrifice and every shared memory.” He leaned back and lifted her snout so their eyes met. “Your mother and I... oh, we had our moments when we were so angry we did not even want to smell each other's fur on anything of ours! But we loved each other in what short time we had and always overcame our anger and our wounded pride. I see so much of her in you, Lenora. In many ways I love her more every day even if we cannot be together. Do not fret over whether Sir Erick will love you or not, or whether you will love the Narrows or not. If you are willing to love them and do so, then both will be true in time. “And do not fret over missing me; you will gain a new mother and father and many, many brothers and sisters who will be eager to love you. And beyond they, I will certainly spend as much time here in the Narrows as I can. I love you, Lenora; I am your father and I will protect you. I would never force you to marry a man you hate.” Lenora brushed the last tear from her eyes and squeezed him tight. “Oh, Father! I love you too. I do... like Sir Erick. He is handsome and charming. And he is a good rat. And I do want to help him and his brothers and sisters. I... I just...I'm just scared!” He continued to comb her fur with his claws while the tip of his tail brushed across her own. “We always are. I was terrified the day I married your mother; but the terror turned to joy, and so will yours. I promise. And you have another three years to prepare. There will be many more chances to know Sir Erick. He will be an older and wiser rat when you wed; he will see the ducal heir try to woo a woman first-hand, and learn the importance of treating his wife well if he does not know it already. “And if all I have said does not comfort you, Lenora, know this.” Her father lifted her snout again and fixed her a firm, but comforting stare. “If in three years time you see something in him you fear, I will bring it to the Baron's attention and we will dissolve the betrothal if your fears are true.” Lenora blinked and stammered, “Oh I... I don't... but... I don't want... I...” She chastened herself and then took a deep breath, “Far be it from me to ask so cruel a thing of you, Father. Sir Erick is a good rat. The only thing I fear is I will not be the wife he hopes for in his heart.” His whiskers twitched and the familiar glint of the merchant at the bargaining table touched her father's eyes. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But you can be something better. You can be the wife he needs to be more than just a good rat. You can be the wife he needs to be a good Baron and father in his turn. You can be the wife he needs to make the Narrows prosperous. You can be the wife he needs to transform him from a knight without renown into an elder lord of Metamor. And in the midst of it you will give him what every man truly desires – a family of his own.” His smile transformed his face into one of profound joy. “I was never truly happy until you were in my life, Lenora. You will understand it one day, as will Sir Erick.” Lenora nodded and a small smile touched her snout. Her whiskers twitched as she pondered her father's words. “I will try, Father. I promise you I will.” “I know you will, my beautiful Lenora. Now, enough serious talk. Let us ready ourselves for slumber. There is much work we both have in the days ahead and we have had a very long day.” Together they slipped down from the bed and father and daughter, as was their custom from her earliest years, helped each other prepare for sleep. ---------- It was well into night when Erick climbed the long steps into the mountains behind the Keep. He'd had to endure far too much of Bertram's needling and ribald witticisms for one night and the cool mountain air felt refreshing on his fur. The mountain stairs were rough and in some cases barely visible, especially on a cloudy night despite his rat's eyes. But every night his father came this way the steps would become smoother and easier to climb as he communed with the mountain itself. And they were easier than last week; his father would be up above. After dinner Gibson had wanted to see how well his son could fight and so Erick sparred with Bertram for a short while. He did his best to give the frog a few clever openings to impress his father and Bertram took all but one. Erick would regret the bruises in the morning, but they were better than his banter. When they were done Bertram retired with his family, but not before offering Erick a whispered thanks. For a moment, Erick didn't wish his friend would be betrothed to a foul-smelling mud puppy. He left the Keep and wandered the Narrows for a bit, watching the lamplighters at their work in the village streets, before walking down to the outer wall and climbing the unfinished tower. He leaned against the rocks and stared into the sky for many long minutes, but apart from occasional glimpses of stars behind the clouds, there was nothing for him to see. Nor would his thoughts settle and so not long after climbing back down – he would not jump like the second litter – he found himself making the mountain ascent. Erick did not have to climb far before he found his father. The Baron was leaning against a large granite extrusion, his chest up to his arms and head fully stone, while his legs melded into the stone, trousers and all. There was no sign of his tail. It was not the first time Erick had seen his father this way; when he was younger he was always awed by what his father could do with stone, and especially the way he cajoled the mountains into providing them colorful little gems to shine and sparkle. But in the last few years he'd noticed all the little scars his father received turn to stone and stay; every time he saw his father meld with stone now he knew it was only a matter of time before there was nothing left of his father but a statue of living granite. And how long after before the statue was nothing more than ordinary stone? “Good evening, Father,” Erick did his best to keep his voice level, but a little squeak escaped at the end. “Ah, Erick, I knew you were coming.” The mountain told him so; or the ivy which climbed along the stairs. “I will be done here in a moment. Please forgive me for letting you see me like this.” Erick nodded but said nothing. He wanted to turn aside but he was not a child anymore. He would face this like a rat. For a few minutes it seemed as if his father did nothing but close his eyes and press his hands against the surface of the granite block. But Erick could feel the stone shifting beneath his toes. An edge pressed outward and into his claws until a new step in the long stairs emerged. Once the changes stopped the Baron opened his eyes and rose upward from the stone. His tail slid free and took on the quality of flesh, as did his chest, apart from the scar Erick's brother gave him at the Summer Festival. The trousers returned to cloth as they broke free from the granite, and last his paws pulled free until his toes also splayed across the new step. The Baron ran a paw over his bare chest, pausing only briefly at the granite scar. “I know I've tried to keep you from seeing these, but you've known... how long?” “I've suspected for a couple of years. About six months ago I saw the one on your side.” Erick gestured at a small scratch along his father's right side just above the waist; he'd nicked his father there while they were training last Winter. “And the night at the festival, I stayed up and hid in my minor form until you came back. I saw what Charlie did.” His father nodded. “Please assure me you have forgiven him as I have?” “I have, Father. But... what of you? Are you going to turn into stone forever?” “Perhaps,” his father admitted with a moue darkening his already night-dark features. “But my friends are helping where they can; they are very powerful and should be able to keep the stone at bay for many, many years yet. Please do not be afraid for me, Erick. I would rather spend my many years seeing you grow into a man ready to take on the burden of tending the Narrows than worry over matters of stone.” “I don't want to lose you, Father.” Charles reached over and gripped Erick by the shoulder. He felt the claws through his tunic. “I promise you I will not leave you, your mother, and your brothers and sisters. I love you all too much. This stair... it is something I must build. One day you will understand. But enough of me! Your new hat looks very fetching on you, Erick.” He reached up and touched one corner and his whiskers twitched into a grin. “Oh, yes, it is! And very comfortable too. It is my favorite already.” “And I hear you took Lenora to the clearing to pick blueberries.” Erick nodded. “I even took her through our secret passage. I don't think she enjoyed picking blueberries as much as I hoped she would. She was too worried about dirtying her dress.” “Well, perhaps you can take her again another day when she's better prepared. Perhaps she was also fatigued from her long journey. Don't be too hard on her, son.” “I am trying. It'd be easier if Bertram wasn't teasing me about her all the time.” “Oh?” “Aye, he does nothing else when it comes to Lenora.” “And there will be a time in his life when you can return the favor.” His father laughed and pulled Erick in closer. “Oh, my son. You are blessed to have such a good friend as Bertram! If he did not tease you so I should have to hire someone to do it. We all need a friend who will shield us from pride and conceit. You know what James does for me, as well as Master Julian! And let us not forget every time Misha Brightleaf visits! If I dared become too proud of my title he'd use of one of Pascal's permanent dyes!” Erick laughed and felt the better for it. Bertram was his friend and he wouldn't want any other at his side in battle. He should still have to marry a smelly mud puppy though. “And Lenora is a good rat too. She is smart, gentle, and a lover of beauty. Like Master Julian she is shrewd and cunning. She can help you make the Narrows prosperous, Erick, and in a way I never can. She may not be as used to the forest as we are, but give her time. I grew up in a great city too, one even larger than Keeptowne, but I fell in love with the woods. So can she.” “I suppose... it's just... I... well...” Even in the dark Erick could see his father's face twist in a bemused grin. “Well? What is it?” “She's well... she's like... I... my...” “Come now, Sir Erick, is my young knight frightened of something?” Erick felt a blush in his ears. His father called him 'young knight' when he was a ratling riding a cloth and stick horse into battle with his mighty chewstick. “Well, it's... Lenora is... she feels like she's my sister.” There, he finally said it. “I do like her. She is sweet and very kind. But... she's like my sister. I cannot marry my sister!” “Nay, you cannot. But she is not your sister. She is going to be your wife and the mother to your children. You will love her more closely and share more with her than you ever have with your sisters. No one will be closer to you nor more necessary to you than she. So drive any thought she is your sister from your heart and mind. You are seventeen years old. You are going to be spending the winter aiding Sir Dupré at his little wall, and you will spend most of next year away with your brother and his grace Bryn Hassan in Vysehrad facing unknown perils! You cannot afford to act like a boy anymore. Not before them and certainly not before your betrothed.” Erick scuffed his claws against the new step. “But I didn't chose her, Father. You did. You didn't have a wife thrust at you. Why don't I have a choice too?” “No one has a choice in these things, my son.” A fondness filled his father's voice as he leaned in and gripped his shoulder anew. “None of us did. I and your mother had no choice. I sought only to console her when she became a rat, and yet our hearts bid us closer together until before I knew what had happened I could not control myself at all. I had to have her for my own and I had to belong to her if I was to know any happiness. My choices have only been to deepen the love we share in the time since our marriage. There were many times I could have let little angers fester and wound my love for her, but I would not. Ask any man if they chose their wives and the only unhappy ones you will know are those who say, 'Aye'. “You may not have chosen Lenora, my son, but you can choose how to love her or not. It is those choices you make which will determine whether you and she will be happy.” As his father spoke, the clouds in the east began to part, letting the light of the moon warm the mountain path with a silver radiance. For the first time he could see his father's eyes clearly and in them he saw a firm gentleness. “I love you, Erick. You are my flesh and blood and I have named you my heir. I want only your happiness and a long, prosperous life filled with family and joy. Aye, Lenora was chosen for you to bind our house with the merchant's guild. It will secure for you avenues of wealth only available to me through Julian's largess. And it will help both Julian and Lenora for he has no heir and no other family. There is nothing wrong with practical considerations when making a betrothal. “But I would never have agreed to it if Lenora was not of good character. She likes you, Erick. She admires you. Your mother told me how much she enjoyed giving you your gift; and not just this one, but all the ones before it. You know, it was Lenora who picked this out for you?” “She did?” Erick reached up and touched his new hat. “Aye, she did. Stop being afraid of her and do more of what you did today. Share yourself and what you love with her. She wants to love you; let her. And in your heart I know you want to love her back, my son. Do so. Be gentle where she is weak and uncertain; the forest is not her home but it can be if you teach her. And trust her where she is strong; she grew up at the bargaining table and knows the ways of merchants. There is little about her, my son, to quibble or fear. She will be your wife and you must be a good husband to her.” Erick sighed and dug his claws in further. “I will try. I just... I... I just hope I can, Father. I just hope I can be a good husband like you. You can do so many things I cannot. Both you and mother and Charlie and Natalie and Misha, you all have these powers I don't. I'm just a rat trained as a knight. What do I have to offer her? What do I have to offer the Narrows?” The moon glowed on the granite scar across his father's chest, yet it was not brighter than the pride in his father's eyes. “You are far more than just a rat trained as a knight, Erick. You are valiant. You are honest. And you are wise to know where you are strong and where you are weak. My powers dictated the course of my life, as have Charlie's, and to a lesser extent Misha and Natalie's. There are some things you cannot do, aye, but you also have a freedom they do not. You have a freedom I did not. I had to betray my order to have the life I have now, and it was a terrible burden to pay the cost for my betrayal, but...” “It's a long story,” Erick finished. His father chittered a small laugh. “Aye, it's a long story.” He pulled Erick into a tight embrace. He could feel the cold of the granite scar, but all else was wiry fur and warm flesh. “Ah, Erick, you have already proven yourself to me. You will show your worth to Lenora and the Narrows. Do not fear. Now come. Let us return home to our family.” Erick hugged his father tight, doing his best to smile. “I will try, Father. I promise.” “And you will have scores who love you dearly helping you every step of the way, my son. Now come, we have a long day of wrangling with Master Julian, the stone masons, and the engineers tomorrow. We're going to need our rest.” Together the two rats walked down the incomplete stairs, Erick standing just a bit taller. Lenora was pretty. She was smart. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe they could love each other. In time. Bertram could still use a good thrashing. Erick chittered a laugh as they headed back home. ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias </body> </html>