Here is part 2
Enjoy! Chris The Lurking Fox It was shortly after midday prayers that William was able to meet the paladin. He found the paladins quarters lightly furnished. A bed, a small writing desk and chair and a small traveling chest occupied the small room. The only real flash of luxury was a bowl filled with bright flowers resting on the desk. William noted those details with a glance of his changed eyes before settling them on the two figures which held the room together. He'd known that Edmund was a Hunting cat, one of the sleek felines many southern nobles kept for hunting game. But where he thought to find one he discovered two. The first of the cheetahs was dressed in a simple woolen tunic and pants both a dark blue. Embroidered onto the tunic was a gold Follower cross. The second feline was wearing a simple, brown, wool shirt and shorts both dirty and a little tattered around the edges. He was also not wearing any shoes. the claws of his bare paws clicking on the flooring as he walked. My name is Sir Edmond Delacot. Protector of the innocent and defender of the faithful and a Knight of the Order of the Protectors, the cheetah with the Follower cross on his tunic said calmly, bowing his head ever so slightly in recognition of Dupré's status. The second feline did not speak but stared at the ram for a long moment with the intensity only a predator has. Stealth my friend please do not startle Sir Dupré." Edmund whispered in Stealth's ear. Huh? the second feline replied with a quick blink. You're giving him the 'You look tasty' stare that all cats do. He's a prey species. It's starting to spook him. Or so Edmund surmised. William Dupré remained still, horizontal eyes moving from one to the other with deliberate focus. "Oh... Surprised, Stealth lowered his eyes. Edmund bowed to the ram a second time and gestured with a restrained sweep of one arm to the other cheetah morph. My apologies Sir William. This is my good friend Stealth. The ram's nostrils flared once before he returned the bow, nodding to them both as his cloven hooves steadied himself on the cold masonry. We are well met, Master Stealth. I am Sir William Dupré, formerly of Mallow Horn but now in the services to Duke Thomas and assigned to Hareford as commander of the armies. Stealth's eyes rose again, wide and he opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again not wanting to show his fangs and spooking the ram. Finally, after several moment's of indecision, he merely nodded his head and did his best to appear uninterested in a meal of fresh mutton. Suddenly, Stealth blurted out, "I have duties to tend to Master Dupré, good day to you both." He reached for a nearby door and entered. "Why are you entering the closet, sir?" The ram asked. Stealth stiffened and his fur bristled, "This door leads to several other wings of the castle, it leads to a closet at other times, when Kyia wishes it." He said and quickly closed the door behind him. Edmund nodded his head. "You forget Sir William that this is Metamor Keep and it's innards move about at whim and Kyia's desire." "There is so much here at Metamor that takes getting comfortable with," William commented. "You'll get used to it with time," the paladin answered. "Now, how can I be of service Sir William?" William Dupré rested his three fingered hands over his belt, only inches from the hilt of his broadsword, and stared down a long rounded black muzzle toward the cheetah. His eyes, yellow with horizontal pupils, were some of the most disconcerting that Edmund had ever glimpsed on any other Keeper. They were distinctly inhuman in a way that even a predator could not match. They carried the impression of a dumb beast, but there was nothing in either Dupré's stance, his etiquette, or his regard to support it. Edmund could only conclude that either he'd been completely wrong about Stealth's gaze frightening him, or William was a master at hiding his feelings. The rumors he'd heard of George's praise for this former noble's prowess were undoubtedly true. But what of his character? Was he a virtuous soul seeking to aid Metamor after his exile, or was he still a haughty lord too enamored of himself to recognize the way he'd been humbled? Edmund pondered those questions as he listened to those William brought. I was told, the ram began in even tones that suggested he was still measuring the paladin, that you are the loremaster of the Haunted woods. As it lies just to the east of Hareford, and Duke Thomas has forbade my men and I from entering, I wish to know what you have to tell of it. Edmund stiffened for a moment as his ears laid back. His tail stopped its usual movement. Oh? Why are you interested in that place? he asked in a cold tone. The ruins are best left to the ghosts who haunt and guard the place. The ram snorted as if disappointed. I have no interest in the ruins or what treasures supposedly lie there. As I explained, I have been appointed by the Duke as the military commander of Hareford. My soldiers will patrol near it one way or another, and I wish to understand the nature of the evil that lurks within those woods. Edmund stared intently at the ram for a long moment. Yes, there was arrogance there, but it seemed tempered. That he was concerned chiefly for the men under his command spoke well of him. The feline relaxed noticeably and his tail started moving back and forth slowly. Still, the subject at hand was not one he wished to discuss. I had heard you were headed there and bringing troops with you. You've heard already?" William asked, scalloped ears flicking betwixt curling horns toward the feline. The moment of surprise passed quickly into begrudging acceptance. Word travels fast here in Metamor. Yes and no, Edmund admitted, sharing the ram's distaste for gossip. But Nestorius is a good friend of mine. The Duke informed him of your assignment several hours ago. Nest informed me a little while later. I see. William's brow furrowed and his muzzle curled into what must be a frown. What of Nestorius? I know he is a mage, a lion, to whom I will report, but little else. Edmund felt more comfortable and so smiled without showing any fangs. Nestorius is a mage of some power. There are more powerful mages here in the valley but not many. He has been living in Hareford for some seven years, shortly after the Curses were first laid down. He has ruled the place well during that time and shown himself to be a capable magistrate. Nestorius is no military man but he is wise enough to recognize that." What of the Haunted woods? the ram asked with narrowed eyes. He could tell that Edmund didn't wish to speak of it. After a moment's pause he added, George suggested that something other than ghosts are there. Edmund nodded and swallowed. There was no point in not telling him. The ruins in haunted woods were once the Suielman city of Camulodunum. When the valley fell to invaders in the year 75 they put everyone in the city to the sword. But right before the empire mages summoned a very powerful shadow. That shadow still guards the ruins along with the thousands of ghosts. How dangerous are they? I will be running patrols right up the edge of the forest and must know the peril. The shadow guards the woods fiercely and kills any enemies it finds there in, Edmund answered. He is more tolerant of Keepers so long as they do not try and loot the ruins. William took a deep breath, eyes finally leaving Edmund to peer past him. I see. And no effort has been made to exorcise this shadow? As a paladin, I would expect you to destroy such evils. An exorcism will only remove a demonic presence, Edmund explained, feeling the burn of the ram's reproof in his chest. The shadow is not that. He has come to my aid in the past. He seeks only to guard and protect that which he was charged to do. No more and no less. He is no threat to Metamor. And yet, William said with some amusement, his presence keeps you from both cultivating those woods, and securing your northern defenses. He lifted one hand and shook his head. No, don't argue with me. This is not the time or place to settle such matters. I am accustomed to speaking my mind, Sir Edmund. As am I, Sir William. I am also accustomed to command, as I sense are you. But I also sense in you a desire to protect this wood against the rest of Metamor. Edmund knew he was being tested now, and he didn't like it. The hackles on the back of his neck rose. What lies there is of no interest to Metamor. It is a threat only to our enemies. And if things should change? Which will you sacrifice, Sir Edmund? The wood or Metamor? Now his fangs did show. What do you intend to do, Sir William? To do my duty of course. And that will be to command the forces at Hareford. It is the valley's first line of defense to the north. But to do that, I need to know everything there is to know. And that means, I need to know that your fealty to Metamor is more important than your desire to protect the creature in the woods. Because if you are unwilling to inform me of all that I should know, then I will need to learn it other ways. Edmund stiffened and he had to repress the urge to bare his fangs and snarl. This nobleman was not someone who played word games. He was as blunt and straight as a sword in the stomach. The cheetah nodded slowly and said, Forgive me if I have misread your intentions, Sir William. But I am not prepared to tell you everything of the Haunted Wood just yet. There has been far too many who have talked sweet words but only had their minds on looting the ruins. I will need to consult with my notes as well as with my friend Stealth who witnessed many things there with me. And, he didn't add, to learn more about Dupré himself. I and my men are to leave for Hareford in two day's time. I will return here tomorrow at your leisure and we can discuss the Haunted Wood in more detail. Until then, I bid you a good day, Sir Edmund. And you, Sir William. Noon will suffice. We can talk over bread and meat. I fear we do not have many vegetables this time of the year. Bread and meat are fine, William agreed. He bowed and turned to depart. One thing, Sir William. Not all that lies in darkness is evil. William nodded. True. But there is still evil, and I won't hesitate striking it down. And neither will I, Edmund replied, Neither will I. The ram snorted, almost a laugh as he left. "The issue I have found in the past is how do you define evil?" Edmund said in a soft voice. "I know many who would call Metamor itself as evil." William stiffened for a moment then simply nodded his head. "Indeed." Then he gave a short bow and turned and left the room. ********* Edmund watched the ram disappear down the hallway. Suddenly the closet door opened and Stealth stepped into view. "Now tell me why you felt the need to hide in my closet?" Edmund asked. Stealth ignored the question and spoke in a quiet voice, "Ed, I know that guy." "You do?" Edmund asked. Surprised. He turned to face his friend. "Not in person, I know of him," Stealth paused for a moment. "He's done things." "Things?" Edmund asked and tilted his head to the side. The feline looked around cautiously, as if Dupre' would jump out of the closet, "That's Dupre', Dupre' of Mallow Horn in the south. He was involved deeply in the civil war, his people did things to the Lightbringers all over the realm." "Evil things? I'd rumors that he was involved in fighting and other more evil things." "There are a lot of people coming in from the south spreading those rumors, Ed. He murdered those people, wiped out the Lothanasi. He committed genocide. Now WHAT is he doing HERE? Is he here to kill more Lightbringers?" "Well," Edmund said slowly. Measuring each word carefully. "I don't believe rumors but I will look into them and see what happened." "And if I'm right? what are you going to do?" "I don't know." he said softly. "I just do not know." ************** The marketplace was busy in the late afternoon. The sun was already bending toward the western peaks, but for now the people of Metamor enjoyed the vague warmth it provided. Icicles on eaves glistened with melt, the ice on the roadway stones chipped beneath hoof, boot, and claw, and the boisterous shouting of merchants with wares to sell were full of promises to keep the multitudinous variety of Keepers warm and well fed. A ram dressed in noble surcoat, tabard, and breeches, with a heavy broadsword buckled at his side, made his way through the crowd with a boar dressed in newly acquired tunic, mail, and breeches. Both kept malformed hands on the hilts of their blades, while their beastly ears twitched to follow the many sounds of the crowd. When the roar reached a feverish pitch, and the press of bodies surrounded them on all sides, the ram leaned over and spoke in level tones into the boar's ears, Can you hear me, Becket? Aye, milord Dupré, Becket replied with an odd turn to his lips and a wrinkle in his piggish snout. The bristly furs across his face trembled at the touch of a cool wind passing over the throng. But only just. Good. We are almost certainly being spied upon. Laugh as if I've told you a particularly naughty joke. Becket's eyes lifted in surprise, and then he guffawed and squealed with delight, the ram still hanging onto his shoulder the entire time. Good, good! When we reach Hareford, I'm sure Metamor will have spies amongst our men. I want you to keep an eye out for them as best you see fit. It would be well if we could learn who they are. To keep them out of your way? Becket asked as he side stepped a burly man who'd slipped on a patch of ice and nearly bowled them both over. No. Just so we can make sure they report all the good things, all the loyalty to the house of Hassan, that we display. Becket frowned and kicked a bit of loose ice with one hoof. Aren't we going to be loyal? He could not hide the quaver of uncertainty from either voice or snout. His nose wrinkled in obvious distaste to the suggestion of duplicity. Of course we are! But the sooner Duke Thomas and his advisors believe it, the sooner we'll be left alone to do what we must to protect this valley. The sooner they trust us, the sooner we'll no longer be exiled foreigners but brothers. The fear fled from Becket's small eyes and his smile returned. He laughed again, loud and squealing. Ah! Of course. I will do my best, milord Dupré. Dupré grunted and leaned back, saying in a much louder voice. It is Sir Dupré for now, Captain. Tell me, how fare the rest of our men in attaining the necessary supplies? "They go well... Sir Dupré. Becket hated his liege's demotion, but it seemed he would have no choice but to accept it for now. Alexander has found a helmet that doesn't chafe his ears or snout, and the boys have all found clothes, armor, and swords more to their size. The boys, Anthony, Martin, and Robert, had all become children on the verge of their manly growth and had been forced to barter their old gear for some better fitting. Alexander had become a rather stout dark furred dog which made him in some sense the most imposing of the six of them despite being the youngest of all. Still, Becket was very proud of his men and knew they would do well in this strange land. Excellent to hear, Sir Dupré grinned and gestured to the vast marketplace. Now in all of this I'm sure we can find something to fill our bellies. We won't see the likes of this for years to come I'm sure. I'm afraid you're right, Becket admitted. Their conspiracy done, the two new Keepers navigated the throng to a satisfying meal by following their noses. End part 2 !DSPAM:4b5395ed229471804284693! _______________________________________________ MKGuild mailing list [email protected] http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild
