And Part 7.
Metamor Keep: Invigorating Faith
By Charles Matthias
February 30, 708 CR
It was midday by the time that the
Bishops carriage passed through the gates of
Metamor again. This time it was flanked by only
four horses, those of Sir Egland, Sir Saulius,
and their dutiful squires. They were welcomed by
an eager crowd of Followers who waited anxiously
for word of the Bishops decision. Would they
receive more priests? Would they receive their
own diocese? And what of the rumours that the
Bishops soldiers had been spies sent to learn
Metamors secrets? Just what had become of them?
Neither knights nor squires spoke of
those affairs having been enjoined by Andwyn to
silence for the time being. Further, they
believed in the Bishops mission and did not wish
to cause it any ore harm than had already been
done. Not one of the four was wearied from the
long days of journeying across the Valley, but
they were looking forward to the day they bid the
Bishop farewell and returned to their homes.
Neither Tyrion nor his priests uttered a
word or hint to those gathered to welcome him
back to the fabled castle and its peacock
city. Instead they hurried through to the
Cathedral the crowd following them with hopeful
faces and eager eyes, noses, and ears.
Bishop Tyrion led them in a prayer
service Father Hough had already offered Mass
that morning and during his short remarks, he
pronounced his decision. He was met with joyous
approval tempered by an uncertain
disquiet. Father Hough, whod been holding his
breath for well on nigh four days, almost sagged
with relief at the news. When the service
concluded the Keepers thronged all of the priests and thanked them profusely.
The clubfooted Bishop wished he could
stay among them and celebrate, but he was met
with a summons from the Duke that he knew would
come. He blessed all those in attendance one
last time and followed the detachment of guards
led by the massive bull Andhun down the halls of Metamor.
Tyrion had been waiting for this moment
with almost as much worry as hed been the
announcement of his decision. Now that it came
to it, he had to suppress a desire to curse
Nikolai and his fathers animosity. They had
made what was to come all the harder.
They came to a large doorway both wide
and tall fashioned from stoat oak and bearing the
horsehead Ducal crest of the Hassan
family. Already four other guards flanked the
door with ceremonial halberds in hand and
paw. Andhun opened the door onto a room of warm
mahogany tables, bookcases, and timepieces, along
with alabaster carafes and crystal decanters,
exquisite chalcedony inlay, red carpets over
stone, and a vista looking south across the city
and the Valley through wide windows. Roaring hearths kept the room warm.
His grace, Bishop Tyrion Verdane,
Andhun announced in an almost conversational tone.
An unseen voice echoed back. See him in and shut the door, Andhun.
The bull gestured with a massive arm
that was wider than many trees and Tyrion stepped
through. He favoured his good leg but otherwise
gave no indication that he was intimidated by the
modest opulence of the Dukes private meeting
chambers. From an unseen door emerged a tall
chestnut-brown stallion in regal blue doublet and
hose. One thick-fingered hand rested upon the
pommel of a ceremonial sabre, while the other was
braced in a fist before his chest. His hooves
were covered in soft leather and made only the
faintest of noises as they trod upon stone and
carpet. His bearing was proud and
dignified. The form of a stallion suited him well.
Bishop Tyrion Verdane. Dark eyes
surveyed him and despite his growing familiarity
with beastly eyes, he could discern no motive in
them. The voice was polite to the point of being
strained. Thank you for taking the time to reply
to my summons. Please sit. I would like to
discuss with you your time here in my land.
Tyrion inclined his head respectfully,
but only a short distance as if it were no more
than a nod. He spoke as he slid into a cushioned
seat with straight back and arm rests carved like
the backs of horses grazing. Thank you, your
grace. I am very grateful for your
hospitality. I have enjoyed seeing your
land. It has opened my eyes to many things I had
never before considered. I am blessed by this
visit and I only wish that it could have been longer and less... eventful.
Thomas took the great seat opposite him,
and ever so slightly twisted his supple lips at
Tyrions choice of words. You have been very
busy these past few days. I have already heard
word of your ecclesiastical decision but neither
the details nor the reasons for them.
The reasons are simple. I choose to
bring Father Malvin and Father Purvis with me
here to Metamor originally because they both have
family within the Valley. Neither man comes from
the Southern Midlands; both were born in lands
swearing fealty to you. Both are willing to face
what the Curses will do to them. I have
contingency plans in case either becomes a woman
and is no longer able to serve.
Thomass expression remained firm but
his ears did flick at the news. And where do you intend to station them?
Father Malvin will serve in Lake
Barnhardt. The community there is strong and he
is an intellectual sort. His temperament is
well-suited to the people there and he will find
an able patron in Lord Barnhardt to help him
continue his scholarly interests. Both people
and priest will lift each other up closer to Eli as it should be.
The horses nodded ever so slightly. The
news undoubtedly pleased Robern. What of Father Purvis?
I am assigning him to Lorland. The
community there is growing and growing strong
with the many refugees from Bradanes. His simple
manner and strong faith will be an antidote to
the poison the late Lord Loriod filled those people with.
Thomas grunted and almost smiled.
Good. Those sound like wise choices to me. I
have long pondered how better to help the people
Altera ground to dust, but your suggestion seems
the best of any Ive heard. A priest of their
own will be of inestimable help.
Tyrion felt some transitory
relief. Those had been the easy choices. His
heart clenched tighter as his opened his lips for
his next declaration. I am also assigning Father
Felsah to Metamor to be both assistant and
resident Questioner for when one is needed.
Thomas eyes narrowed and he chuffed,
nostrils flaring. Metamor does not need any Questioners.
Tyrion shifted his bad leg to cover his
wince. He has been here before, twice in
fact. And it is only because of this I am
assigning him here. Of any Questioner that is
alive, he is perhaps the only one suited to this task and to this land.
That may be, but I am not going to
allow you or anyone else to start a religious war in Metamor.
That is not his purpose, Tyrion
replied as evenly as he could. He didnt want to
have to remind Thomas that when it came to
matters of the Ecclesia, this consultation with
Thomas was purely polite and completely
unnecessary. I have tasked him with spending a
month or two learning the needs of the Followers
in the Metamor Valley as prelude to my nascent
request to Yesulam to create a new diocese for
Metamor itself. After, he would remain in
Metamor as an aid and would serve in his capacity
as Questioner only when ordered to do so.
Thomas leaned forward, nostrils still
flaring. The Questioners are an arm of
Yesulam. I would be justified in suspecting you
of an attempt to shift the allegiance of my
people to Yesulam instead of Metamor.
Forgive me your grace, but that is
ridiculous. Tyrion gestured with one hand at the
horse lord and shook his head. Yesulam is where
the Patriarch resides and as such is the head of
their faith. But their homes are here in
Metamor. You may as well cast out the Lothanasi;
are they not subject to the head of their order in Elvquelin?
I do not want a holy war in my land!
And you will not have one, Tyrion
replied, doing everything he could to keep from
snapping at the obstinate horse. Although I only
met him briefly, I am told that all hold Madog in
high regard here. Madog considers Father Felsah
one of his friends. I am sure you heard what
happened when we arrived four days ago.
Thomas paused, his eyes still fixed on
the priest, and kept his lips still. He leaned
back slowly, the tension between them dwindling
ever so slightly. A gust of cool air made the
fires dance. The horses ears twitched to the
side and then returned upright. The concordant
that we signed with Yesulam expressly forbid
certain activities on the part of your
priests. You may not proselytize the Lothanasi
or cause discord amongst the Rebuilders. I will
hold Father Felsah accountable for any such trespasses that occur in my lands.
Tyrion hated that such a concordant had
been signed but that had been done by his
predecessor Ammodus. Still, it had saved that
fool Nikolai. And any that convert of their own free will?
Well thats their choice, Thomas replied coolly.
Of course. Tyrion took a deep breath
and smiled at the edges of his lips. That is the
extent of my decisions for this land at this
time. I will offering a Mass of Installation in
Lake Barnhardt this evening for Father
Malvin. Tomorrow on my way out of the valley I
shall do the same for Father Purvis in
Lorland. Father Felsah will leave me in Jetta
from whence he will begin his tasks.
And then you will return to Kelewair,
Thomas finished for him. And there I hope you
shall stay. I do not wish to see any Verdane in my lands ever again.
Tyrion sighed and lowered his eyes.
Please forgive me for what happened with my
men. I did not know what they were doing. I am ashamed of it.
Then why protect them? Thomass voice
was hard and chuffing, like a warhorse champing before battle.
Tyrion shrugged his shoulders and
sighed, no longer the Bishop weighed down with
responsibility but the son wearied by events
beyond his control. Because my father needs all
the good soldiers he can if he is to keep Salinon
from eating all our northern holdings. I do not
know why they were making drawings of your
castles. All I can figure is that my father
wanted you as weak as he is that you might
consent to be an ally on equal terms instead of a
suzerainty. We Verdanes have always been proud.
He shook his head and looked away.
Duke Thomas crossed his arms and leaned
further back in his seat. He now spoke as a
ruler to a subject. If he thinks I have any
desire to aid him now, then he is an even greater
fool than I thought. And your actions do not
make me trust you. I do not care how much
humility you show me now. You hide behind your
concordant to protect spies. Do not think to
tell me they will be punished for their
acts. Your father will reward them for every detail they can remember.
He reached into his robes and drew out a
small unsealed roll of parchment. He laid it on
the table before the horse lord. Thomas narrowed his eyes. What is this?
Read it.
Thomas uncurled the scroll and scanned
the freshly written text and noted Tyrions
clerical seal at the bottom. His eye ridges
lifted in surprise. When he was finished, he
gazed at the bishop with curious regard, the
stare of one who hopes that they have misjudged
but are not yet sure. Excommunication? You have
written a bull of excommunication for them?
It will be undone after a certain
length of penance, but not even my father can
challenge this. Until they have served
sufficient penance, they will not be able to
communicate anything they learned here at
Metamor. My hope is that by the time they will
have finished their penance, they will remember
nothing more than what any traveller to your lands might learn.
Thomas took a deep breath, stared at the
scroll for several long moments, took another
deep breath, flecked his lips, and then rolled
the parchment back up and handed it to Tyrion.
You have surprised me, your grace. You are
acting more honourably than I thought any Verdane capable of.
My family may be proud and sometimes we
may have put our own ambition ahead of common
sense, but we are honourable, Tyrion replied.
And that includes matters of treachery. You
signed an agreement with Duke Otakar to honour
each others territory, and now Otakar has seized
lands belonging to my father.
The horse lords lips tightened but he
did not give any other indication of the
irritation this reminder might have caused. Aye,
that I did. It seemed reasonable enough at the
time, but I was not aware of what he intended.
And he has taken hostage my brother and
the heir to the throne of Kelewair.
You have my sympathies.
Tyrion shook his head. I did not come
here for your sympathies. I came here for your help.
Thomas blinked, ears lowering along the side of his head. My help?
Aye, your help. Tyrion swallowed and
looked the horse straight in the eye. My father
will never ask it, and he will be furious with me
if he finds out I asked, but I am asking. Please
do whatever you can to free my brother from
Salinon. Even if only you can provide a way for
a message to reach him that does not pass through
Otakars hands, it will be enough. I fear that
this as long as Jaime is held hostage, it will
make war in the Midlands inevitable.
I do not have any ability to offer you
reward. I am merely asking for help for my brothers sake.
Thomas asked in a rather quiet voice.
If we free Jaime, then will not your father
storm Bozojo and reclaim it? Will that not lead to war?
Bozojo is going to be stormed one way
or another. Either when Jaime is freed or when
he dies. Kelewair cannot retain control over its
northern fiefs without at least some control over
the Marchbourne. War is inevitable. It will
either be for desperation or for parity. I have
seen some of your own citizens that have been
held hostage by cruel men in my last few days
here. When I see them all I could think of was
my own brother locked in a cage, a jester for the
japes of men whod once been his family. Metamor
has resources I do not. I am only asking your
help. Nothing I have offered to do for you is
conditional on you giving that help.
Aye, I have spoken of the stability
between our countries. But I ask you help as a
man seeking to aid his brother. I do not care
whether my fathers dreams of uniting the
Midlands under the rule of Kelewair ever come to
fruition. I just want my brother home and safe.
Thomas took a long moment to consider
those words. His eyes were dark and unreadable;
his poise fixed and noble. He spoke, when he
did, slowly and with great precision. You are
right, Tyrion, that war is inevitable. That has
been the way of things in the Midlands for as
long as history has been written. You are trying
to lay a burden at my feet that does not belong
here. Your family has never been anything but an
enemy to my own. You provide no reason for me to
aid you but a personal plea. There are many who,
in such a situation, would welcome the
instability that the lack of heir in Kelewair
will cause. I could use this opportunity to
extend my own holdings further south if I so choose.
Tyrion did his best not to betray any
fear at these suggestions, suggestions he knew
and had considered at length before deciding he
needed to make this request. But Thomas wasnt
finished. You are not a fool, your grace. Your
actions these last few days demonstrate that. So
you did not come to me to ask for my help unless
you thought there was a chance I might give
it. And in giving my help I can expect no
return. Thus, you think I am willing to be both
magnanimous and generous of my self and my
people. But your own house has given us no
reason to be so generous. I can promise you
nothing. Nothing except that I am unsure whether
you think me gullible or chivalrous.
Either way, I am chivalrous and I will
not forget your request. I may do nothing, but I
will not forget it or your brother. But whatever
help I may give if I decide to give it, will be
on my terms. Do you understand?
Tyrion lowered his head in a grateful
bow. It was not quite what hed hoped for, but
it would have to do. Thank you, your grace. I do understand.
Good. I believe you have an installation Mass to perform.
Tyrion chuckled lightly to himself. I
believe that I do. Thank you for your time, your
grace. My Eli bless your land for ages to
come. With that they both rose, nodded to each
other, and Tyrion walked back out the door. As
the bull Andhun escorted him back to the
Cathedral, Tyrion did his best to keep himself
from kicking the wall with his clubfoot.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
!DSPAM:4c0e099b182801804284693!
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