And finally we come to the end. I hope you've enjoyed the ride!
Metamor Keep: Invigorating Faith
By Charles Matthias
March 1, 708 CR
With the arrival of evening, Bishop Tyrion Verdane sat alone
in his carriage with only his driver and the four Metamorians to
guide him. It was many hours since he'd left Father Purvis to his
new duties in Lorland, and not long since Father Felsah had departed
to walk on foot to Jetta with only Rakka for company. He was alone
with his thoughts, memories of delighted Keepers eager to greet their
new priests and to thank him for listening to their cries for
help. The smile this brought was ended as he dwelt on the betrayal
of Nikolai and of the anger of Duke Thomas Hassan.
He'd grown up being taught that the Hassan's were political
rivals, one that would one day be bowing to the Verdane house. His
father would be furious if he knew Tyrion had begged for help from
the Horse Lord. But all he wanted was his brother back. Nothing more.
He shifted his clubfoot about the carriage, until it no
longer felt sore, and then gently lifted the heavy yew dangling over
his chest. He'd never wanted to be a Bishop. What had Yahshua said
about His yoke being easy and His burden light? "I feel very weary by
thy weight, O Yahshua! Aid me by thy strength!"
He kissed the yew and a moment later the carriage was
brought to a halt. Sir Egland rode back to the near window and
nodded southward, velvety antlers already larger than when he'd first
seen him. "We've reached the southern end of the Valley, your
grace. The road goes straight to Menth from here. Some of our human
soldiers wait just ahead to escort you there."
"Thank you, Sir Egland. Your stewardship has been most
welcome. As has been your conversation and your very presence. Thank you."
The elk's muzzle faintly broke into a smile. "It has been
good to protect you, your grace. I have greatly missed it. Please
come back again that we may do so again."
Tyrion laughed warmly at that and shifted closer to the
window. "I do not believe I will be returning for some time. But
thank you for wishing it. Now I wish to say one more blessing before
I leave you." He struggled to his feet and pushed open the door. Sir
Saulius, Intoran, and Charles all brought their steeds
around. Tyrion swayed uneasily for a moment before finding his balance.
"May Eli bless you each in your sacred duties. May your
lives be dedicated to His service, and your swords to His will. And
if so called, may He grant you the grace necessary to give up those
lives for Him. May Yahshua guard you against the Evil One, and bring
your souls safely to Him in Heaven." He made the final invocation
while tracing the sign of the Yew in the air before them. They each
did likewise across their head and breasts. Four beasts, but men of
more noble character than the knights he'd brought with him. He
would miss them.
Tyrion sighed but held his place a moment longer. "Now I
must go. My own knights will see me safely back to Kelewair."
The oryx, the one least trained in the Followers ways,
asked, "Are you sure, your grace? I do not think they will warmly
welcome you back in their company after Iron Mine."
Tyrion smiled, though it was one weighed down by more cares
than he had ever wished to have. "I am protected both by my clerical
office and by my lineage. My father may wish to excoriate me for
sending them away and excommunicating them, but he would eviscerate
them should any harm befall me. I am safe from them. Only offer
your prayers for me that I might provide for your land as best I am
able. And for peace in all of the Midlands. Pray for that!" He did
not know if any could forestall the darkness coming to the Midlands,
but all things were possible with Eli.
"We shalt," Sir Saulius assured him with that reserved
nobility that came to the rat with such ease. "And may Eli bless thee
on thy voyage! 'Tis an honour to have served thee, thy grace." He
bowed his head low in the saddle, and the others did likewise.
Tyrion felt his smile broaden and he had to grip the side of
the wagon to keep from toppling. Even his driver, a stout man of
middle-age who thought he'd seen everything let out a little sigh of
unexpected delight.
"I bid you farewell and Eli's blessings be on each of
you. Now return to your families and to your homes. They have
missed you." He made the sign of the yew one last time before
collapsing back inside the carriage. His leg ached. Yet he watched
those four knights remain there as his driver started them
south. Not a one of them moved. Even after a bend in the road made
it impossible for Tyrion to see them, he knew they were still there.
Clasping his hands together, Tyrion wept one final prayer.
"Oh Eli, please let me have done the right thing! Thy will be
done. Thy will be done."
----------
"And so my agents report that Bishop Tyrion has left the
Valley and rejoined with his disgraced knights," Andwyn announced to
both Thomas and Malisa. It was now evening and both of them would be
grateful for the chance in the morning to worry about other matters.
"There have been no further incidents. Both of the new priests seem
a trifle overwhelmed but I have confirmed that they both have family
in the Valley. Some have bled and died in our wars against Nasoj. I
do not believe either will be anything but priests."
"But you will still keep an eye on them," Malisa asked, her
face strained but expressive.
"Of course!" The bat replied with a little laugh. "I've
already arranged duty rotations for my men to observe them."
"And what of the Questioner, Felsah?" Thomas asked, his chin
propped on his fists, his whole head shifting with each word.
The bat looked a little irritated. "His purpose seems so
nebulous to me that I will have some difficulty in knowing when to
assign spies, but his movements will not be hard to follow. I need
some time to assess him before I can be sure."
"Make sure that he is not fomenting zealotry amongst the
Followers," Thomas suggested.
"I doubt he'll do such a thing," Malisa pointed out
gently. She spread her hands on the table and keeping her eyes on
her father's distracted face, she spoke a little more firmly. "He was
one of the Questioners who exonerated us in Yesulam and he is the one
who was brought by Madog to Coe for healing last September. I spoke
with him at length then. He is a man of deep faith and conviction,
zealous, but no fanatic. I would say of the three he is the man we
need least concern ourselves with."
"Perhaps you are right," Thomas added. He lowered his hands
and sighed. "I know we should be grateful that these men are willing
to embrace the Curse to serve the Followers in our land. They are
courageous if nothing else. But it is not they who bother me."
"It's the Bishop," his daughter added with a sigh. "Father,
I've seen these dynastic battles turn otherwise good men against each
other for no reason other than family and pride. I too am disturbed
by what his men did, but he seems blameless in it. Perhaps his
motives here really had nothing to do with his father."
The horse lord shook his head and leaned back. "Of course
they had to do with his father. But to what extent I do not
know. We may never know, and that has me worried. Plus, there is
one other thing."
When he said nothing for several long seconds, Andwyn and
Malisa glanced at each other before his daughter asked, "What is the
other thing?"
Thomas rested his hands on the table and sighed. "He asked
me to help free his brother."
Andwyn sucked in his breath while Malisa blinked in
surprise. "His brother? Jaime? The one imprisoned in Salinon?"
"Aye, he begged me to do something to help and he didn't
care what the political consequences were for his family."
Malisa pursed her lips. "Could we? Dare we?"
"As to the first, we can probably send one of our birds to
bring him messages at the very least. Let them learn what they can
of his prison and perhaps we may devise a way for him to escape. As
to the second, I do not know. Tyrion believes war is inevitable in
the Midlands, but the severity of it is dependent on whether or not
Jaime Verdane is a prisoner."
"He may be right," Malisa replied glumly. The young woman
slid her hair back over one ear and scrunched her face in deep
thought. "Bozojo is the flashpoint. There are rumblings in Lanton
and Linduin. But if war does come it may only ever be between
them. I doubt Marigund will be eager for this sort of fight."
"They will if any of their families are involved." Thomas
tapped his thumbs together, the nails clicking audibly each time.
"And Duke Otakar's family and several of the most prominent in
Marigund are bound up in marriages. It's how he's been able to keep
Marigund dancing on his string all these years." He flecked his lips
and narrowed his eyes. "If there is any sort of war it could easily
escalate. Tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of lives would be
lost. And there's no knowing who the victor would be."
The bat's large ears turned away and his eyes narrowed,
wings drawing tighter over his chest. "Yes there is." Both Malisa and
Thomas stared warily at the bat. He smiled faintly. "If they two go
to war, they will deplete each other's resources. The only victor
will be Metamor. If they fight and we keep clear of it, we will gain
in power by default. If we rescue Jaime, we may prevent war or we
may cause it. Either way, he will be indebted to us and we will
still gain power. These are seeds we have sown twelve years
past. We may be able to reap a rich harvest."
Thomas's dumbfounded stare darkened into a glowering anger
under which the bat wilted some. "I am not going to be a King on a
throne of skulls! And what seeds are you talking about?"
"I am merely pointing out a truth, unpleasant though it may
be. The seeds were not yours, my liege. They were your
mother's. An alliance of marriage was to occur between Jaime and
Duke Otakar's niece. The combined power of Kelewair and Salinon
threatened Metamor with a war we could not hope to win; we had no
Curse to protect us from the south then. The decision was made to
prevent this alliance. And so it was. The marriage ended very
poorly and the house of the wolf and the house of the falcon have
hated each other ever since."
Thomas stared at the bat with increasing horror in his
face. Slowly he rose to his hooves, towering over the fruit bat and
casting him into deep shadow. His voice trembled. "You were in
Kelewair twelve years ago."
Andwyn let out a long breath and nodded. "I have always been
a spy in the service of the House of Hassan. I received my orders
from Master Sedares and carried them out. I only got the goblet wrong."
"Sedares... I remember him. Cold-hearted bastard. I was
glad when he died in bed and Phil took his place. You would be best
to emulate the rabbit and not that... man."
Andwyn stood a little taller. "Your grace, I am yours to
command. I have served you in some of the most vile places
imaginable. But I will not apologize for doing my duty or for
telling you truths you do not wish to hear. That is why you have
asked me to do this." He lowered his eyes and his smile, faint
thought it was, returned. "It would be ironic if we were to save
Jaime Verdane when it was Metamor who destroyed his life twelve years ago."
The Duke of Metamor and the Northern Midlands stood to his
fullest height and in a growl unbecoming of the stallion he was, he
belted his words. "We are going to help Jaime Verdane in any way we
can. Not for irony. Not for political advantage. But to amend a
very poor mistake."
"I will do as you command, my liege," Andwyn replied.
"See that you do."
Thomas turned away from him for a moment, but the bat, in a
timorous voice, added, "I have always been a loyal servant of the
Hassan house. My specialty has always been poisons. Your mother
knew that. Phil knew that. Would you look on the coming conflict
any differently had I poisoned the right goblet twelve years ago?"
Thomas took a deep breath and then nodded. "I too have a
wife, Andwyn. I too have a wife.... Knowing that my family is
responsible for this conflict...." He lifted his brown eyes and met
both his daughter and the bat. "I will be responsible for ending
it. And damn the consequences!"
With that he turned and stormed away from the table toward
his private chambers. Malisa stood up and called after him,
"Father? Where are you going?"
Thomas paused and looked over his shoulder. "To be with my
wife. Good night, Malisa. Andwyn, I don't want to see your face
again until tomorrow evening. Good night." With that he shut the
door behind him strong enough to knock the tapestries off their hooks.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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