Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold
By Charles Matthias
The Matthias house felt so empty with Lady Kimberly and the children
gone to Metamor. Baerle busied herself with cleaning the place up,
starting with the main room. Only a year ago she'd been a dedicated
scout, and now she was nursemaid to the Matthias children, dear
friend to Kimberly, and... she wasn't sure what to Charles.
Kimberly had once given her permission to pursue the handsome rat,
but with everything that had happened to him in the last nine months,
she couldn't help ponder whether it was such a wise idea anymore. Did
she still love him and desire him?
Even thinking the question made her tremble. She knocked over a
little wooden figurine of a rat, but caught it before it hit the
floor. She set it back on the mantle and sighed, resting her forehead
against the wooden mantle and peering into the gently burning fire.
It crackled, the flames burning low but still flickering as they
consumed a bit of oak. She sighed and added another log.
Looking back over the mantle, she was surprised to see the cracked
bell James had repaired still resting on the end. He must have left
it there last night before returning to the Inn. He hadn't been by at
all that day, which was unusual. Even when he was working at the Inn,
like he did today, he usually made a point of stopping in under some
pretext to offer help or just to say hi.
Curiously, Baerle took the bell by the handle and hefted it. The
weight was no more than a sword, but still felt awkwardly balanced in
her paw. She gave it a downward swing, but the sound was hollow and
weak, even if clear. Odd. It had been so beautiful when James had
rung it. Now it just sounded dull.
She set it back on the counter and resumed cleaning, pondering
instead of the rats, the offer the badger had made to her. With the
children getting older, there would be more opportunities for her to
return to scouting duties. Angus had even promised that she would not
have to serve alongside Berchem. The skunk was the best archer in the
Glen, and one of the best hunters. But the unhappy relationship she'd
shared with him a year and a half ago was well known.
Baerle almost dropped her cleaning cloth when the door banged open.
She spun on her paws, long tail whipping around behind her and
striking the corner of the nearest couch. James stood in the door
wide-eyed and a worried look on his face. The donkey stumbled inside,
hooves clopping on the wooden floor. His eyes found her and he began
to stammer, "Did... Did I... I leave my... my bell here?"
"It's right there on the mantle." Baerle pointed.
James almost ran to the mantle to claim it. He picked it up and
rubbed one hand over the side, breathing heavily in relief. "Oh,
thank goodness. I just had this sudden fear I'd lost it."
The opossum recovered her sensibilities and gestured at the couch.
"Would you like to stay? This place feels too empty without the
others." She moved to shut the door which the donkey in his haste had
left open.
James, eyes locked on the bell, suddenly looked up and shook his
head. "Oh, I'm sorry, Baerle. I'd love to stay, but I have to get
back to work. Jurmas is going to brain me for running out like I did."
She felt disappointed at his sudden departure. She bid him stay one
more time, but he could only apologize again as he slipped out,
carrying the bell with him. This time he did shut the door. Baerle
looked about the wide empty room, noted the many rings of the tree in
which the place was built. So many rings, more than she could count.
If not for the magic that had gone into the room's fashioning, the
tree would long ago have collapsed.
And that is just what she did, falling into the couch, staring at the
rings above her, lost in the endless circles one about another, dark
and light like a million suns and moons stacked on top of one
another. And if she wasn't careful, that's all she'd ever end up
doing too, spinning round and round in circles.
She hoped Kimberly and Charles would not be gone long.
----------
March 4, 708 CR
They reached Lake Barnhardt well after nightfall on the third.
Charles wanted to push on to the Glen, but even he could see that
their ponies Malicon and Armivest needed the rest. It would be
another three hours north to the Glen; better to attempt the ride in
the morning when all of them were refreshed.
Sir Egland and Intoran had returned to Metamor that afternoon, and
the elk promised to deliver a report to George, absolving them of the
need to do so. Once they'd parted ways the rats were no longer under
orders and could come and go as they wished. So it was that nobody at
Lake Barnhardt was expecting them, but as they were known, they were
allowed inside the city gates without having to answer any questions.
Charles spent the evening conversing with Jessica and Weyden. He was
surprised to learn that the black hawk had learned how to manipulate
the Curses, but politely declined the offer of a personal
demonstration. He did oblige his friend by showing Weyden how he
could turn his flesh to stone and move through rock, but nothing more
than shoving his arm into the walls of the barracks. Weyden and his
friends were suitably impressed. The ram Dallar who Charles
recognized from his last stay in the Keep's dungeons bade him not
attempt that trick should he make another criminal visit.
The evening, Charles had to admit, was a pleasant one, but his mind
was ever on the morning. And so well before the sun made its first
appearance, he and Sir Saulius mounted up and bid their friends
goodbye. They traversed the road north in silence, the snow-draped
trees muffling everything.
The sun just poked its feeble arms over the mountains when the tall
spires of the Glen spread before them in welcome. Charles breathed a
long sigh of relief. "Home at last," he murmured.
His fellow rat chuffed a laugh. "Hardly compares to thy last venture."
"And if I'd known," Charles replied, feeling a taste of bitterness in
his throat, "that my little Ladero would have died while I was gone,
I wouldn't have."
Saulius opened his snout to object, but turned away and shook his head.
The lower clearing for the Glen was mostly swept clean of snow, but
even at this early hour of the morning few wished to go out into the
cold. A pair of scouts that Charles waved to walked past, but
otherwise the town was empty. In another hour or two everyone would
be out and about and making ready for Spring, but for now almost
everyone slumbered in the warmth of their homes.
Saulius took both ponies around to the stables while Charles shook
the chill from his frame and crept inside. The scent of rats was
strong inside, a biting earthy aroma that swelled his chest and made
the vine quiver with sympathetic delight. His ears lifted to catch
the sounds of excited squeaks and scampering paws. But everything was
quiet and still. Were they all still asleep?
He glanced at the tapestry covered door to his bedroom at first, but
decided to let Kimberly sleep a little bit longer. He turned to his
left and very carefully climbed the wooden steps through the interior
of the massive tree. Not even his claws made a sound as he took each
step. Everything was dark, but he knew each step with absolutely
certainty. At the top of the stairs, a little light came in through
the windows, bringing the room into bright enough relief that he
could make out the little beds for his children. They'd expanded the
cribs while he'd been gone, but in another year they'd have to find
something even larger he was sure.
Yet, all of the beds were empty.
"Charles, Bernadette, Erick, Baerle? Where are you?" He tried to
laugh, pretending this was some sort of game. He rifled the quilts
but there was nothing there. His fur trembled.
A sound from the opossum's room made him spin on his paws. Somebody
was in Baerle's room moving around. He sniffed and caught the
familiar scent of the opossum nursemaid and relaxed a little. She
could tell him what was going.
A moment later the opossum stepped out of her room dressed in a robe
that seemed to have trouble covering her chest. Charles kept his eyes
focused on her face. "Baerle! What's going on? Where are the children?"
"Oh, Charles!" Baerle blushed and tried to pull her robe on better.
"I was just sleeping when I thought I heard something. I thought you
would go straight to Metamor when you got the message?"
"What message?"
"Kimberly took the children to Metamor yesterday. Bernadette, her
mouse friend from the Kitchens, invited her and you to her son's wedding."
Charles frowned for a moment and then nodded. "Richard. Yes, I
remember him vaguely. Stuck as a fourteen year old, but I guess
that's old enough to marry." He narrowed his eyes as his tail curled
around one leg. "What message?"
Baerle's snout lowered and her voice trembled ever so faintly.
"Kimberly said she'd have Misha send you a message to let you know in
case you didn't return in time. I guess you didn't get it. She asked
James and I to stay behind to let you know."
He felt his Sondeck tightening like a spring but took several deep
breaths to still it. "It figures. Everything seems to be conspiring
against me lately. First George tells us to do some pointless patrols
and now this! No, it's not your fault. I better tell Erick we need to
turn right back around."
"I could fix something for you both to eat?"
"Something quick," Charles replied, quelling his irritation with
every ounce of will power he had. "I'll go let Erick know." He turned
stiffly and almost ran back down the stairs. His claws dug deep into his palms.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
!DSPAM:4e6ad4c759711075618241!
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