And Part 5
Metamor Keep: Invigorating Faith
By Charles Matthias
February 28, 708 CR
A single candle provided all the
illumination that the fruit bat Andwyn needed as
he perused reports and assignment schedules for
his network of spies throughout the Valley and
the lands both north and south. The work of a
spymaster was never ended because there was no
end of intrigue and plots that threatened Metamor
and especially that threatened the Hassan
household and those closest to them. In the last
six months his spies had learned of and thwarted
no less than ten planned assassinations of Duke
Thomas, and another dozen aimed at key defenders including himself.
All but one of them had come from the
lands still controlled by Nasoj. And that other
had been a personal grudge against the exiled
Dupré from a minor house near Mallow Horn that
had been despoiled of its holdings during the
recent civil war in those lands. Only a few of
them had actually been competent. But after so
many years serving as a spy and an assassin
himself, Andwyn was very adept at putting a stop to such threats.
He did not boast of these
accomplishments. It was better for those he
protected to remain ignorant of all but the
serious threats to their lives, else theyd never
be able to perform their duties. But he did delight in them.
The bat did his best work in the dark
hours before dawn while all the rest of the
Valley slept. His body was naturally alert
during the night and he took advantage of this,
snatching what sleep he could during the day when
he wasnt needed by the Duke or was required to
be otherwise available. He slept again during
the darkest part of the night unless events
required his special attention. With Bishop
Tyrions arrival and inspection of the Ecclesia
presence, this was one of those times.
His ears heard the coming of his spy
even though none else would. He reached out one
wing-hand and pulled a small lever, opening the
shutters to his window casement. Bone cold air
met him and his candle fluttered before
steadying. Hanging from the ceiling, Andwyn
tightened his grip with his toes and waited.
Upon the casement landed a simple barn
owl, white face and chest framed by dusty tan
wings and back decorated with grey spots around
his shoulders. Dark eyes peered from squat
almost flat faces with only a sharp beak
protruding. The owl shuddered, stretching its
wings, and then all of its frame. Heavy talons
gripped either side of the casement, two toes for
each side, while fingers emerged form the wings
that almost formed real hands. The face took on
almost no greater definition, gaze intense and
certain. The eyes remained beastly but now
intelligent that radiated a sense of duty.
Andwyn folded his wings around his chest
and said, Alban, what have you to report?
The owl tilted his head to one side so
far that had Andwyn not known better he would
have thought certain Alban had broken his neck.
The Bishop is spending the night in
Hareford. Neither he nor his men have caused any
trouble; although there was an altercation
between one of Sir Duprés men and the Bishop.
Which one?
The dog, Alexander, Alban replied
quickly. It ended peacefully and with the Bishop
gaining the respect of even Sir
Nestorius. Shortly before they went to bed, I
overheard the Bishop telling Nestorius that he
had a letter from William Duprés son Jory that he would give to him.
That is most peculiar, Andwyn mused,
given that the terms of his exile prohibit him
from having any contact with his family. Why was the letter written?
Alban turned his head even farther, so
that it was nearly upside down like the bat. I
think the boy wrote it of his own accord. He
made the Bishop promise to give it to William.
Did you hear this from his grace?
Yes.
Andwyns already small eyes narrowed.
Did you believe him? From the tone of his spys
voice, he already knew the answer. But it was
best not to let those he spoke with realize how
much they told him from tone, scent, and body
language alone, even his own people lest it be used against them.
I think I do, Alban replied after a
moments hesitation. He became quite emotional
about it. I suspect there is something between his grace and Duke Verdane.
Andwyn nodded to himself. Hed met
Tyrion while still a seminarian during his time
as a servant to Metamors ambassador to Kelewair
before the days of the Curse. It had been the
best known secret that Duke Titian Verdane had
made sure his son Tyrion knew that he did not
want a cripple for an heir which many thought the
reason the boy had joined the Ecclesia. Andwyn
always suspected there was more to it than that
but had never been able to prove it.
Do not interfere. Let the letter pass
into Williams hands. Inform our agents in
Hareford to keep a close eye on William, and if
at all possible, to learn what the letter says.
Of course, Alban straightened out his
neck and then started turning it the other
direction. Ive also been watching the Captain
as you requested. He appears to be observing
everything with a keen eye. I think hes
studying all of our villages and their defences.
Truly? That is interesting. Andwyn
loosened his grip on the grillwork attached to
the ceiling and then tightened it again.
Whatever secrets he hopes to learn will avail
Kelewair nothing. They cannot send an army to conquer our lands.
Alban hooted. But they could sell
anything they learn to Nasoj and others in the
north. Lutins have no fear of the Curse.
That is true. We must keep a closer
watch on this Captain Nikolai. Is there anything
else to report? The owl gave a quick shake of
his head. Then pass my orders and what you know
onto Lydia and she can continue the
surveillance. Thank you, Alban. Youve done
well. Ill have your pay waiting for you in the usual place.
Thank you, Master Andwyn. The barn owl
shrunk back in size and leapt from the
casement. Andwyn pulled the lever again and the
shutters drew closed. With troubled thoughts, the bat returned to his ledgers.
----------
Bishop Tyrion and his entourage wasted
no time in leaving Hareford. The sky was only
beginning to brighten when the clubfooted Bishop
said a final blessing over the assembled
Followers in the citys main courtyard before
climbing into his carriage and starting on the
road south. By the time the sun crested the
Barrier Range they were passing Glen Avery and
making very good time. The day was cool but
neither so cold to reveal their breath nor so warm as to turn the roads to mud.
Their goal was to reach Ellingham in the
afternoon and from there pass through Lorland and
if the weather continued to be favourable reach
the Iron Mine where they would stop for the
night. The next day they would sweep through the
southernmost reaches of the Valley and its
numerous farming communities before returning
north to the Keep two days hence. While the
distances were generally longer south of the
Keep, the roads were also in better condition,
flatter, wider, and much safer. If there was
time after Tyrion hoped to head northeast to
Mycransburg even though there were only a small
cache of Followers living there. But he admitted
it was far more likely he would forgo that corner
of the Valley and merely inform Hough and Duke
Thomas of his ecclesiastical decision before returning to Kelewair.
Ambitious plans driven by necessity,
true, but Tyrion was committed to seeing them
through. His enthusiasm for them spilled over to
the two priests he brought and to his knights, as
well as to the four Keepers acting as honour
guard for them. Only the Questioner remained
sedate and aloof. He stayed as much of a shadow
as his garments implied. But one time he did speak with animation.
To pass the hours more amiably, Bishop
Tyrion chatted with the Metamorians on their
journey. He spent some time in discourse with
Sir Egland about Yesulam and the elk knights
memories of that city. He asked Intoran of what
Metamor had looked like before the Curses and his
lift therein, a subject to which the oryx was
more often than not circumspect. To Sir Saulius
he spoke of the Flatlands and his calling as a
knight errant. But to Charles he asked first
after the hand-print scar over his right eye.
I received this blow last Summer
Solstice while fighting a Shrieker, your
grace. He struck me and this scar remained. The
Shrieker was destroyed only moments later. Eli spared me that day, I know it.
At this the Questioner stirred, leaning
forward in his seat and peering at the rat who
rode just alongside the carriage. Did you say a Shrieker?
Aye. A creature of the Underworld. It
was unleashed because of the Censer of Yajakali
which was at Metamor at the time. All of them
are now destroyed so we should never see their
kind again. The rat frowned. How did you know of them?
Father Felsah smiled with almost as much
delight as when Madog had approached him. I have
never seen one myself, but one was also fought
and killed beneath Yesulam a little over five
months ago. That one was unleashed by the Sword
of Yajakali. Charless jaw dropped. I never
thought I would get to meet any of those also
wrapped up in that horrible struggle. Thank you
for what you have done to destroy that evil.
Charles took a deep breath and shook his
head, his jowls twitching over his incisors. So
thats what that place was, that place of clay
and stone. An altar with nine columns rising, each with a vein of fulgurite?
Felsah was surprised anew. How did you
know? Thats what Father Akaleth described.
While we were at Marzac, Yajakali
brought together all of the places the artifacts
were tied. I saw both Metamor and Yesulam in the
same place at once. Charles described what he
saw in greater detail while Father Felsah
listened with rapt attention. Bishop Tyrion felt
remarkably small as the words tumbled from the
rats tongue. Fathers Malvin and Purvis could
not hide their enthusiasm and both seemed ready
to bolt from their seats to grab a sword and run down this dead evil.
As Charles described his companions in
the fight, Father Felsah laughed suddenly. Of
course! I know who you are now. You are Charles
Matthias, once Head of the Writers Guild. You
were exiled from Metamor because you... his tone
became still and serious, because you
unwittingly harboured the man who killed the Patriarch.
The rats eyes flamed for a moment but
then he lowered both these and his snout. Aye,
that I did. At the time I didnt believe he could be evil.
He was your friend.
Nay, he was not my friend. He was my
dearest friend and lifelong companion; even
brother. Charles looked away, his face catching
the sunlight. The black handprint on his eye
seemed even darker. The power of Marzac had
corrupted him. He did what he did against his will.
Felsah nodded. I believe you.
You do?
I have seen the power of Marzac at
work. I will pray for your friends soul. His
name was Krenek Zagrosek was it not?
The rat swallowed, a distant look
filling his eyes. Aye. Before he died he asked
me to pray for Yonson and Agathe too. They were
other Southland mages who had been
corrupted. Not a day has gone by when I have
failed in that. If you pray for Krenek, pray for
them too. They will need it as much as he.
I shall. And can you add Bishop Jothay
to your prayers? It was he who was corrupted by
the Sword. It killed him in the end.
Charles blinked and twitched his
whiskers. A Bishop? Tyrion did not appear too
comfortable hearing those words. Yes, I recall
seeing a portly man with jocular, almost cherubic
face amongst those Marzac had killed.
That sounds like him, Felsah admitted
with a heavy sigh. Pray for him as well.
The rat took a deep breath and then
nodded. That I shall. He then glanced at the
Questioner more closely. What was your role in
the affair? And how did you know what you knew of me?
I was one of three Questioners sent to
Metamor to investigate Patriarch Akabaieths
death. We learned of your involvement during the
course of our inquiry. But we found the results
of your trial credible and so did not pursue any
deeper at the time. When we returned to Yesulam
we learned that the conspiracy traced back there
and resumed our inquiry. And then to the others
amazement the Questioner recounted a story of
betrayal within the Council, of strange Magyar
allies, of Driheli knights, and of two swords, one evil and one good.
By its end, Charles looked ready to leap
into the carriage and kiss Felsahs hands. Oh
would that you could stay long enough to dictate
that to our scribes! I know quite a few others
who will want to meet you, Father. I am not
alone here in having faced Marzac.
Felsah blanched, his mask beginning to
return. I prefer not to be made a spectacle of,
but in private I would enjoy meeting them and
hearing their tales as well. His eyes flicked
once to the Bishop before returning to the rat.
But that is up to Eli. For now I am grateful to have met you, Charles.
And I you, Charles replied with a
faint smile. I am very grieved to hear of Bishop
Moreans death. I knew him once. He shook his
head to rid himself of some unpleasant memory. I
prefer not talking about my experiences of those days.
Tyrion smiled and shifted his bad leg.
That is fair. I would rather talk of your
struggle against Marzac. I know only what I have
heard from the two of you. It is refreshing to
hear of a direct confrontation against evil. Far
too much of our lives are spent contending with
evils disguised as goods but whose true purpose
is to destroy ourselves and those around
us. Marzac is a long journey from Metamor. I am
sure you have a wonderful story to tell of it.
If you would care to hear I will tell.
Please! Father Malvin gasped
excitedly. Tell us! I have never heard the like!
Bishop Tyrion smiled and nodded. We
have a few hours more before we reach
Ellingham. Tell us what you would of your journey, Charles Matthias.
The rat smiled, incisors exposed, and turned his tongue to the tale.
----------
Although William Dupré had enjoyed his
time in the tower, he nevertheless felt a slight
measure of delight as he led the dozen men whod
come with him back through the gates of
Hareford. There did not appear to be anything
out of the ordinary awaiting him on his return
but his mind still pondered why the lion wanted him gone for a night.
No sooner had he dismounted, the sharp
clap of cloven hooves on stone sending a dull jar
up his spine, then Captain Sobel approached from
the grounds. Welcome home, Sir Dupré.
Thank you, Captain, he replied as
amicably as he could to the woman. He may have
been in Hareford for almost two months now but he
wasnt yet ready to call it home.
Sir Nestorius wishes to see you in his
study immediately. He asked me to make sure that
you went there directly upon returning.
Sobels expression was candid but not
forthcoming. William bleated in amusement, a
noise that he still wasnt sure he liked coming
from his throat, and nodded. Probably wants my
opinion on the tower and his handiwork
there. Thank you, Captain. He turned to the
boar Becket at his back. Becket, see to our
things. I must talk with the lion.
Beckets nostirls widened and he nodded. As you wish, Sire.
Sobel accompanied him to Nestoriuss
study but turned and left once they reached his
door. Within William found the lion gazing
intently at a small envelope laying seal
down. It was unmarked. There was a darkness in
the lions yellow eyes that made the ram in
William nervous. He fought the beastly instincts
down and rapped his hoof-like nails on the
tabletop. I have returned from the Eagle.
Welcome home. Nestoriuss voice was
distant as if he wished he were elsewhere. Did
you find the tower to your liking?
It is as well defended as it can be
given that it is cut off by impassible mountains
to the west and difficult terrain to the
south. A true road should be built through the
woods to better transport supplies and soldiers
to and from the tower. Its isolation offers it a
strategic defence but also means it can only
serve to warn. It has no ability to harass or
delay the enemy. As such, any man assigned to it
is one less man defending Hareford and
Metamor. I would half the compliment of men you
have stationed there until we can build a true
road through the woods. Anything more than what
is sufficient to keep watch at all hours and light the signal is a waste.
Nestoriuss long tail flicked behind him
but he did not seem upset at Williams criticism.
We have not built a road through the forest
because we wish to keep the forest as a buffer against Lutin invaders.
Folly, William replied with a bit of
acid. Sheer folly. The forest offers no buffer,
only cover for them to slip through. Even your
Misha Brightleaf should know that. And I know
George knows that. Real fortifications are
needed. The tower is a good start. It has very
clever defences that will make it a strong rally
point, but only after we make the valley mouth
defendable. To that end we should build another tower in the east as well.
Nestorius nodded slowly, eyes
lowering. He placed both paws on the table and
tapped the edges of the sealed letter with his
thumb claws. You were assigned here to Hareford
to help improve the defences. What do you recommend?
First, cutting a path through the woods
that we can use to make a road. I suggest we do
it on the southern side of this combe. He drew a
line across the map just south of the Dike. That
will provide some warning to any travellers.
But the lion shook his head. That will
take you very close to the Haunted wood, and perhaps even into it.
William tensed, nostrils tightening and
his tail flicking. Then have your paladin
appease whatever spirits are in there and assure
them we will intrude no farther. But the valley must be defended.
At this Nestoriuss voice rose in
volume, almost vivacious. The wood is not a
matter of appeasing some spirits! I have been
there and it is not safe for any to enter
unbidden! William wanted to shout back but said
nothing. He waited, finger pointing at the
narrow combe that cut east-west through the
forest. Finally, Nestorius sighed and he waved
one paw. If you wish to build a road, why not
where our scouts travel now? Nestorius gestured
at the northern flank of the combe. That will
keep you well clear of the Haunted Wood and still south of the Dike.
With no natural formations to defend
us, William replied. It will be far more dangerous.
You cannot go into the wood.
William crossed his arms and scowled,
stomping one hoof stubbornly. You would put your
mens lives at risk because of these spirits?
They will be in more risk if they go
through that wood. Nestorius shook his heavy
mane and set his jaw in a firm line. He growled
under his breath. Abandon this plan, Sir
William. I forbid you from entering the Haunted Wood.
William wanted to tell the lion exactly
what he thought of the danger of having a wood
that stood in the way of Metamors defence but
managed to get control of his sudden stubborn
impulse. It was the ram that wished to rush
headlong into Haunted Wood and but its horns
against something, not Dupré. If he could not
build his road on the southern side of the combe,
and he dare not build it in the combe, he would
do what he must. Then I require at least six
squads of soldiers with three more on
rotation. I will be making a road to the tower
and one to the east and I will need some to stand
guard and patrol and others to clear the trees.
Nine total squads? Nestorius swelled
as if he was going to object, and then he waved
his paw again. Very well. But I want you to
survey the land first and show me where these
roads will be built and what defences they will
have. And well discuss later what complement of
soldiers you may take with you when you build
your roads. We do not wish to leave Hareford unprotected.
No, we dont. Nor the Valley.
Nestorius stood at his full height and
glared. Sir William, I did not ask you here so
that we might argue. I asked you here to tell
you something very important. Do not make me regret this.
Williams ears lay flat and he could not
help but bleat. And what is it you wish to tell me?
Nestorious narrowed his eyes and seemed
to settled a little in his mood. But there was a
tension peculiar to felines that could not
escape. I didnt send you to the Tower merely to
analyse its defences, although I am grateful for
that. William wanted to bleat that he knew that
already but kept his tongue behind his blunt
teeth. The Bishop of Kelewair was here to
inspect the Followers of Hareford last night. He
left this morning and will be inspecting the
southern fiefs for the next two days.
Bishop Ammodus? William asked, feeling
somewhat confused. He and I were on good terms
when last we spoke. Why did you wish to hide his visit and why tell me now?
I do not know who Ammodus was, but he
is no longer the Bishop. And I tell you because
your man Alexander accosted the new Bishop. You
would learn of this anyway and I would rather it come from me.
William felt a dark pall fall over the
lions suggestions. Ammodus no longer
Bishop? That was an ill sign. Who is he?
The lion took a deep breath and said, Tyrion Verdane.
William stomped one hoof and bleated in
an anger he didnt realize hed kept in check.
That crippled whelp of the two-faced wolf? By
what insanity was he made Bishop, and what
arrogance to come here! That pup is nothing but a lackwit spy for his father.
Nestoriuss brow deepened. Is he not your family?
William leaned his head back and let out
a very sheep-like bah. By marriage yes. A wife
that... that... He could remember that night,
still beneath the fog the man with the cards had
swallowed him in, deep and burning with rage as
if he were entombed in the belly of a mindless
dragon, when hed tried to kill Anya. And then
she ordered him brought in chains before her
father. He remembered the look in Titian
Verdanes eyes when he sentenced him to
exile. He knew William was under a spell. He knew and didnt care.
He bleated again, grabbed a small chest
nestled against the wall and hurled it through
the window. Glass shattered as the chest tumbled
to the distant ground before smashing into a
hundred pieces on the stone road. A woman
soldier danced out of the way as the contents sprayed everywhere.
Nestorius gasped and ran to the window.
Are you mad! He grabbed William by the collar
with a heavy paw and lifted him off his hooves.
William kicked the lion in the groin,
slipped free, and then ducked beneath his arm and
shoved him out of the way. Mad? Im
furious! That mans father destroyed my life,
stole my children, turned my wife against me
and... and... and it was all that damn Marquiss
fault! He beat his fist against the table and
looked for something else he could throw through
the window but there was nothing in reach.
The lion glared through his pain and
lifted one paw to cast a spell. William lowered
his head, curled horns pointed at the lion, and
snorted. Dont you ever think of casting a spell
on me, Nest. Dont even think of it.
Nestorius paused and straightened
himself out. His eyes reeked with contempt. He
brushed his tunic off, glanced at the broken
window, and then narrowed fierce yellow eyes at
the ram. If not for whats happened to you, I
would not hesitate in frying you and selling your
flesh in the market as roast mutton. Bishop
Tyrion brought that letter for you. I summoned you here to give it to you.
William snorted, eyes flicking to the
letter very briefly. Why should I care what that
clubfooted cretinous cleric has to say?
Nestorius leaned his head back and
arched his eyes. It isnt from him. Its from your son.
His knees buckled and if not for his one
hand being on the table he might have stumbled.
My son? Anger gone, a gasp and a bleat was all he had left. My son?
He made Tyrion promise to deliver it to
you somehow. I was given the impression that
Tyrion took great personal risk in making sure you received this.
William looked at the letter, truly
looked at it for the first time. It was on
simple parchment folded over and sealed with
wax. He picked it up and saw that the seal was
unbroken and in the form of a wolfs head. This is the Verdane family seal.
To ensure that if any found it in
Tyrions possession they would think nothing of
it. Or so he claimed this morning when he gave it to me. Open and read it.
William swallowed his breath and broke
the seal. His son Jorys faltering handwriting greeted him inside.
Father,
It has been a cruel winter here in
Kelewair. I miss you, Sasha, Lydia, and Timas
very much. I make sure every night to say
prayers for you and when the Father here has me
praying before the Sacred Host I offer them up
for your safety. Grandfather tries to teach me
how to be a ruler but he is distant and I know
theres more bad things happening.
I saw mother only once since Yuletide
and she is very unhappy with Grandfather too.
Grandfather keeps me on the castle
grounds for now but at least he lets me keep
company with the dogs. The kennel dogs are my
only friends here but they are true and they
listen to my voice. I am going to keep them
close to me. I know Im a ram among wolves, Father. I wont forget that.
Bishop Tyrion told me that the Metamor
Curse has turned you into a ram too. I wish I
could be with you there. Id hold your sword for
you and your shield as you ride into battle. But I know it isnt to be.
I hope you get this, Father. I am your
dutiful son always and will make you proud I
swear this. I am writing this now because Ive
made the Bishop promise to get this to you. He
feels sorry for me. I will learn all that I can
so that I can find other ways to get messages to you, Father.
I know Grandfather exiled you and that
you will never be coming back. But I will find a
way to see you again, Father. Please keep safe and protect your new home.
Your son,
Jory Dupré
William, with all his self-control
mustered, folded the letter back up, pressed it
to his narrow, supple lips, and then held it to
his chest. He stood that way for several
seconds. When he looked up he saw the lion mage
gazing down at him expectantly but without any sign of compassion or anger.
Slowly, the ram moved his tongue. I
think... I think I will take two squads into the
woods and begin marking trees for the road we
discussed. I may be gone several days.
Nestorius nodded. I think that would be wise.
Thank you. William lowered his eyes
and without another word shuffled past the lion
to the door. Nestorius did not move as he passed.
But he did call out to him one last time
as the ram stepped into the doorway. Sir William.
He turned back, peering through the curl
of his right horn at the black lion. Aye?
My offer to magically contact your
family still stands. We can discuss it when you return.
William nodded again and left.
----------
By the time they arrived in Lorland the
southwestern peaks were already threatening to
pierce the afternoon sun. The many fields were
still covered in patches of snow and those that
werent were choked with mud. Plows waited to
till the soil a month from now and the many
people who lived in those lands were ready to begin the cycle again.
Bishop Tyrions arrival was welcomed by
a complement of guards and the leading citizens
of Lorland headed by the donkey mayor, Macaban,
one time steward to the dead Loriod house. He
greeted the young Bishop graciously and avoided
the subject of Lorlands dark history in the days
since the Curse for as long as he
could. However, as Tyrion began meeting the
subjects, they bewailed of their horrible
treatment beneath the pudgy and monstrous fist of
the late and not lamented Altera Loriod. At
first both his and the other priests listened
with dumbstruck expressions, the tales they heard
being too dehumanizing to believe, but as they
continued to pour forth, Tyrions face became more and more furious.
He listened to how men whod become
women were forced into marriages against their
will and made to bear their new husbands
children. He heard of a weeping hen recount how
she was forced to lay egg after egg day in and
day out for Loriods consumption like a common
farm animal. There was a cow who was similarly
forced into providing milk. Any beast that was
commonly used by man had been treated that way by
the late Loriod. And the rest had been crushed
beneath his tyrannical need to have every whim fulfilled.
One of the great sins of Metamor that
they had looked the other way so long, merely
because Lorland was the Valleys breadbasket and they needed the food.
Tyrion, on realizing the magnitude of
the peoples suffering, informed his men that
they would be spending the night in Lorland to
see to the peoples needs. Charles took the
opportunity to wander about outside the castle
grounds. Sir Saulius accompanied him but the two
said nothing, rather enjoying the songs of the
first birds to make their nests in garden
shrubberies. They were still maintained and
probably looked better now that they were not all
built to satisfy Loriods whims.
After a very long day riding both of
them enjoyed the opportunity to walk and stretch
their legs and try to work out the bow-legged
cramp that theyd developed. Charles, despite
once being blackmailed into agreeing to come live
under Loriods thumb, had never been to Lorland
before. It was a pretty place full of life and
vigour, but that was only here because Loriod was
dead. He shivered at the sight of the fat,
vulgar, noble in the vaults of Marzac.
And then, as they came around a high
hedge, he stopped and pushed Saulius back with
one paw. The knight obeyed, whiskers taut, eyes
and ears alert. One paw rested on the pommel of
his sword. Charles put a finger over his
incisors for silence, and then peered around the
hedge. Standing a short distance away in an
alcove of old stone walls and unused planters was
the head of Tyrions knights, Nikolai. He was
sketching on a sheaf of parchment, occasionally
glancing at the castle walls and then returning to his task.
Charles narrowed his eyes as he watched
for several seconds, not daring to interrupt
him. He wanted to see what was on the parchment,
but Nikolai had it turned away from him. The
tall, stern man kept the quill close and moved
rapidly across the page. After only a few
moments observation, Nikolai set aside his
quill, blew across the parchment to dry the ink,
and then slipped it within a nondescript leather saddle pack.
The rat almost squeaked when he realized
that the knight was making ready to leave his
hiding spot. Instead he turned about and
gestured for Saulius to head back the way theyd
come. Keeping their heads low and their tails
held close, the rats darted through the hedges
until they were out of the gardens on the
southern edge of the castle grounds. Both
breathed heavily for a moment and then Saulius
gestured back the way theyd come. What didst thee see?
Nikolai, his graces captain. He was
sketching something, I couldnt see what.
Saulius frowned and glanced back at the
hedges and stone walls from which theyd escaped.
This Nikolai seems only a soldier. Twas not
flowers he drew. What was he looking at?
The castle. I think he might have been
drawing the castle. Charles shook his head and
sighed. I can only think of one reason he might do that.
To spy, to learn our strengths and
weaknesses, to plan how to defeat us. Saulius
nodded and then gripped him firmly on the
shoulder. Charless vine slipped from beneath
his fellow rats paw and pulled closer to his
neck, ruffling the longer fur there. We hath no
proof. We dare not accuse without that.
No we dont, Charles agreed, feeling a
sullen excitement that he realized he missed. I
can try to steal his satchel after he stows it. If it ever leaves his side.
Tis not an honourable thing to do,
Saulius chided him. And if it truly be what we
fear, twill never leave his side.
Indeed. He rubbed his paws together,
then nibbled on his chewstick for a
moment. Saulius did the same. Charles lowered
his chewstick after a moments gnaw and said, We
have another full day to discover what hes up
to. I will think on what we can do and when the
opportunity comes, well do it. It will not be
anything as dishonourable as stealing; even if we are rats!
The knight laughed and nodded. Verily
thou dost speak! Let us tell Sir Egland and
Intoran of our suspicious. We may need their hands as well.
Charles agreed and the two rats returned
to the castle to continue their conspiracy.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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