<html><head></head><body><div class="yahoo-style-wrap" style="font-family:arial;font-size:16px;"><div dir="ltr" data-setdir="false">Sorry about last nights posting. THAT was part 1. This is part 2</div><div dir="ltr" data-setdir="false"> </div><div dir="ltr" data-setdir="false"><div>Chapter 5: Goffs Oak At the center of the town stood the oak and under it sat a beautiful barefoot woman clothed in green. She seemed almost elvish and looked out with deep interest at the humans going about their business in the small town. “Good day, Dryope, I hope you are well-pleased?” The people of the town were always careful to treat Dryope with respect: she was a high nymph and had helped them through many trials. Her happiness was vital to the small community. She giggled. “I could not be better pleased were I a cat in the sunlight on soft velvet with cream to drink, Mayor Tom. It seems to me that I sometimes could do better for you.” “I should hope none have come asking you favors!” “Indeed they have not. Your community does well, and it pleases me to see it prosper so. Yet I have power that I may use. Is that not right and proper for a follower of Yeshua?” Tom simply bowed and wished her a good day before heading off. She smiled and thought on the oddity of it. As a nymph, she was one of the myriad descendants of Artela, yet she had been raised by followers of Yeshua. Her biological mother had perished in the terrible Burning that had destroyed much of Marigund a hundred years ago but had given the head of the Geoff family one of her seeds. When the head of the Geoff family had planted it here, she awoke and learned. All the community around her were Latharians, and they had taught her all they knew. They had fled the Burning, carrying what they could on their backs and carried in their hearts their faith. It seemed nowhere they went would welcome them until they finally came to Metamor Valley and made themselves a home. The Valley itself was rich in magic, which changed her from a simple nymph to a high nymph. Yet she believed what the devoted people around her believed. She kept herself close to the tree she was birthed from, but her power was more tied to the land around Goffs Oak rather than the tree itself. Still, there was room near her tree, plenty of room for a church. She thought it might look pretty by one. But there were no Latharian priests to be had, so her community would traverse by wagon and foot every Sunday to the church in Euper, some two leagues hence. She went with them invisibly to protect them, and then back again. She also liked Father Hough a lot, but kept hoping that, one day, her community would get a priest of its own. *** James smiled at his wife Anne as she went about the kitchen. He helped where and as he could–no slouch in cooking, and eager to help. They were getting their supper ready–a mostly light fast–when the door knocked. “Who could that be at this hour?” wondered Anne. “Surely it’s some poor sojourner. We’ve got the extra place set and can add more if we need.” James answered the door quickly. “Ah, it’s the archbishop. Come in, your honor, we were just about to have dinner.” The Archbishop of Marigund was a balding, sixty-some-year-old man. His face had the lines and worries that came with a person who took his calling seriously–and who was also placed in one of the most tenuous areas of the world: a place that had suffered terrible religious persecution, the embers of which still smoldered. “Ah, thank you Pastor James, but I cannot stay. Indeed, I have come to ask you and Anne a great favor. One which I would not ask were I not out of other options.” Anne came in the room, holding a towel on one hip. “Surely your reverence is not going to leave here without even a bite?” The Archbishop gulped. He knew that tone from his own wife. “Well, perhaps a bit, but I don’t want to keep Penelope waiting too long. She worries about my safety after dark.” James was quite sure the Archbishop’s wife worried about his safety regardless of the time of day, but the three sat at the table and the Archbishop said grace, and they tucked in. Once they finished, James and Anne cleared the table and sat with the Archbishop. “Now, what was it you wanted?” asked James. The Archbishop sighed and placed a gilded letter down on the table: a wedding invitation by a member of the Brightleaf family. James let out a little ‘oh’ that was almost completely breath. Anne looked at it confused. “Well, the family certainly is part of our church and has been since time out of mind,” she said. “It makes only sense they’d want you to marry him.” “Ah, yes.” The Archbishop shuffled. “It’s just that Penelope is not…um…” “It *is* a long journey,” said Anne, keeping her tone steady. “But the Brightleafs are major contributors to the church,” said James. “Ah, yes, and it would not do to insult them,” said the Archbishop. He seemed to be having trouble sitting still, as if he were on thorns. “And there are younger bishops who could go with no insult,” said Anne. “Unless they specifically asked for you,” said James. “Ah, well, no, they didn’t, not me specifically,” said the Archbishop. “Would you be needing something more comfortable for your chair, your reverence?” asked Anne. “Ah, no, thank you. The seat couldn’t be more comfortable.” That, James had no doubt on. “The bishops are, perhaps, busy?” He knew where this was going. The look on Anne’s face told him she knew where it was going too. Neither of them was happy. “So many obligations, this time of year, and, of course, most of the pastors have flocks to tend to…” The chair would not need buffed for some time. “Unlike me, who moved here not long ago?” James asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage. The Archbishop seemed to take a sudden cough. “Ah, that is…I won’t force you, of course…” The two looked at one another. They didn't have many material goods. They could return if they wanted… “When should we leave?” “In a week. You’ll have the best of magical protections, of course.” With that, the Archbishop jumped from the seat, thanked them and headed out the door as if being chased by an angel with a flaming sword. *** The trip was long. From Marigund to Wolin to Kelewair. From Kelewair to Salidon to Bozojo. From Bozojo to Elarial to Giftum. From Giftum to Komley to Midtown. At Midtown they were offered accommodations along with the rest of the people they’d been travelling with, but neither Anne nor James were that impressed despite the size of the town. There was a certain coldness that never seemed to lift, and when some of the Brightleaf clan moved, they were happy to join them. Laselle, two and a half leagues from Midtown, seemed little friendlier. “I wonder if there’s ice in the hearts of all these northerners,” said Anne. “That seems not true, not for the most of them. But those who run the towns are men who risk hubris. We shall not be among them long; we must head north from here, though we risk the Curse.” “There’s no Curse that can be worse than a frozen heart,” said Anne firmly. They were glad to hear special accommodations had been made for them in Metamor Keep. They would not be there long enough to get Cursed unless they chose to stay. It was in Metamor Keep they met Father Hough. “I must admit, this is a bit different,” said James as he looked at the child priest. Anne was showing remarkable restraint by not simply picking him up and hugging him! “I have certainly found it so,” Hough said with a smile. “Though there are priests who are larger here, it seems many of us are a bit more diminutive. Perhaps a reminder by Eli for humility.” “It could be so. I wanted to go over things with you; the Brightleaf family has long been Latharians, but our local archbishop, bishops, and, uh…” “Everyone but you and your dear wife?” “Yes, so it seems, was occupied. But I am fully ordained and my own family has some connections with the Brightleafs. I am suitable, but this is your perish.” “A beginning of it, perhaps,” Hough smiled. “We shall see. Have you thought if you would be staying?” “Would we have a place?” asked Anne. She had been awed by the sheer diversity to be found at Metamor Keep, but she didn’t want a place they’d be unwelcomed. She only too well recalled the stories of the Burning. “I think so. There’s a small town west of here called Goffs Oak and the people there are Latharians as well–one of the few Reformer groups I know of up here. They come to me for services, such as I may grant, but they really need their own spiritual leaders…” “What’s Goffs Oak like?” “Much like any quaint town, though it has a magnificent oak tree on a large plot of land that would be perfect for a church. There’s also a nymph there named Dryope.” “She’s not demanding worship, is she?” James asked, his expression going dark. He’d heard too many tales of nymphs to trust one off hand. “No, she’s very friendly and half Larthian. They raised her, you see, and she adopted some of their beliefs. How it applies to someone like her is beyond me. But I’ve met her and she respects me. Even better, Madog likes her. You can generally trust Madog when it comes to someone’s character.” “And who’s Madog?” asked Anne. “Stay here long enough and you’ll meet him.” Hough said with a childish look of mischief. “It’s impossible to miss him, unless he desires, since he’s an automata fox.” <h1>Chapter 6: To Metamor We Go </h1> The sun was just peaking over the horizon heralding the dawn of a new day. The courtyard of their small castle was already busy. The few servants were awake and starting their daily tasks. Sitting in the center of the small courtyard was a large wooden carriage. It was a fine thing of fine-grained wood, polished and decorated. Gilt decorations were everywhere. The interior had seats that were comfortably padded. “This is beautiful,” she said excitedly. “Where did you get it?” He smiled and turned red faced. “I rented it from the Guild for a month.” She slowly walked around the coach examining it from all sides. “What do you think of our new vehicle?” he said cheerfully. “It’s wonderful!” She exclaimed. “We can travel in comfort.” Their luggage was safely stowed away and they both took seats. Inside there was a trio of nice seats and a dashboard at the front. On that were a half dozen buttons and levers. He pressed three buttons and a low hum filled the air. The couch slowly lifted clear of the pavement, “And away we go!” He said cheerfully. With that their transport slowly lifted clear of the pavement. The ground dropped away quickly and soon they were moving above the clouds. **** It was bright and sunny at first with the sun shining down. The clouds rolled in and soon the carriage was surrounded by gray black clouds. The scenery was lost. A light rain started to fall. Fred touched the controls and the carriage quickly ascended and soon broke out of the clouds and back into the sunshine. It was several hours later when Amelia peered out the window and down at the clouds still roiling below them. “Ah Dear,” she asked. “Where are we?” “Still on course to Metamor Keep.” Fred responded confidently. “How can you be so confident?” She asked. He pointed to the console in front of him. “I’m following the compass.” “That’s good,” she said slowly. “But where exactly are we?” The confident look on his face vanished. “I’m not exactly sure. I didn’t get the locator option,” he said. “It was another thousand gold.” “Well, let's go down and see where we are,” She responded. The carriage slowly descended into the clouds and the view outside their windows was obscured by the dark “What if we hit something?” She asked. “Like a dragon?” “If we run into a dragon the least of our worries is the collision,” he responded but then he slowed down. “But it’s best to be careful.” Rain pattered on the windows at a steady pace while it lightly drummed on the roof over their heads. After a long time they broke out of the clouds and the world beneath them came into view. Below them was a land of low, rolling hills interspersed with groves of trees and the occasional cluster of buildings. “Farm land,” she said slowly. “Well developed. I see crops of corn and wheat.” She pointed to a cluster of buildings. “There is a small town. Let’s stop and look around.” “Why?” He countered. “We’re on course.” “Then where are we?” She asked. “Exactly.” He was silent for a long moment. “I guess we can go down for a look.”</div> </div></div></body></html>