Inchoate Carillion, Inconstant Cuckold
By Charles Matthias
March 6, 708 CR
James reported to the brewery as soon as he rose
the next morning. The donkey had not slept well
the night before, strange dreams of vaulted
ceilings occluded by thick, oppressive shadow
waking him several times during the middle of the
night. Still, his anxiety was born not of the
nightmares, but of the mountains they would
traverse; and most especially who he would be traversing them with.
Charles was one of the few people he knew cared
about him and in the year they had known each
other, James felt that their friendship was more
than just comrades in arms, or from shared
interest. They were brothers in a way that defied lineage.
But, to James's continual frustration, he was the
younger brother. As much as he admired and cared
for Charles, whenever the two of them were placed
together, everyone preferred to be with the rat.
And then there was Angus. The badger was a good
teacher and had convinced James that he could
actually swing a sword. Yet, he always felt like
a student in his presence, as if the badger were
always evaluating him and pondering what next he
needed to learn. James would always be his inferior.
These misgivings gnawed at his heart and darkened
his dreams like banners blackened with soot
flying low to the ground. Yet it was the opossum
Baerle that twisted him and drove him mad. Every
time he awoke with her face in his eyes he
frantically searched for his bell, hands
trembling until thick fingers wrapped about its
handle and gave it a swing. The sweet note would
sooth his nerves and allow to return to sleep.
He wanted to have a chance for Baerle to see what
he was capable of. But with Angus schooling him,
and Charles outshining him, there would never be
a chance for the opossum to notice a foolish donkey like him.
But, as he rushed into the brewery to volunteer
himself for scouting duty, he had a few days
before the trek into the mountains with which to
approach her. To his surprise, he found that
there were only a dozen or so people in the
brewery waiting. Amongst them was Angus who was
busy discussing assignments with the others
assembled. The collected miasma of animal scents
from last night blended with the ever present
wine and ale that permeated the bear's
establishment made James's nostrils twitch, but
of those that were fresh, he did not smell the opossum.
Ah, James, Angus said as he approached, We've
got something easy for you today. Just a simple
scouting patrol south of the Glen. Berchem here
will be guiding you through the forests. The
badger gestured to a stocky skunk standing to his
left conversing with a pair of shorter Keepers, a
vole and arctic fox that James recognized.
His heart tightened and his hand wound about the
handle of his bell. I was hoping to join Baerle
on her rounds today. He couldn't believe he'd
said it, but there it was out for all of the
others in the Glen to know. The skunk's eyes
narrowed a moment and then he shook his head and
turned back to the other two to whisper something James couldn't hear.
Angus shook his head. She's up in the trees the
next few days. Now I know you have mountain
experience, but trees are different. Hooves do
not belong in trees. Don't worry, she's one of
our most experienced, she'll be fine. And so will
you. Now, we hope that plague doesn't get up
here, and to make sure it doesn't, the southern
borders need to be watched carefully. Anybody
trying to slip through, well. The badger folded
his paws under his chin and narrowed his small,
dark eyes. I don't need to explain, do I?
James's long tail fell still between his legs and
his ears lowered in disappointment. Glumly, he
began to shake his head. I understand. I'm ready
to go as soon as everyone else is.
The badger half-grinned and patted him on the
shoulder. Good. I'm glad we've got you with us again, James.
But as his hoof-like fingers stroked the silent
surface of the bell, the imagined tolling that he
could hear drowned out the compliment.
----------
Despite the weariness in his heart, Charles had
to admit that it felt good to be in the saddle
and doing something. He would have surely lost
what composure he still had and destroyed his
furnishings as he used to do when the anger of
the Sondeck grew too powerful had he been left to
his own devices. As Saulius's squire, it was
simple enough to slip into the subservient role
and allow another to direct his actions.
Only a few days ago the routine grated on him
because he wanted to hurry back to his wife and
children. Now they were out of reach and the
equestrian life was a welcome escape from the
fear that he might never see them again. And to
his immense relief, Saulius informed him that
morning that they would be riding north along the
road toward the border with Hareford to patrol
there. So far from Metamor as that, any
temptation he might suffer to sneak off and find
some way to breach the Keep's defenses could be easily kept at bay.
It also amused him that his friend and knight,
Sir Erick Saulius, had seen fit to decide their
patrol route with Angus and Lord Avery before
consulting with Charles. In fact, the Sondecki
turned squire had not been consulted at all. It
made Charles realize that for however many days
it took before the woodpecker had completed his
preparations, Saulius would be taking charge of
all of his affairs. There was solace in that.
So after rising and eating a brief meal of eggs
and biscuits, Charles attired himself in his mail
and tabard, then tended both his steed Malicon
and Saulius's mount Armivest. He cleaned their
hooves, combed their hides and manes as he had
been taught, then secured their saddles and
reins. He brought both out to the knight rat who
studied them with a critical eye before nodding his approval.
And a few minutes after that, they were in the
saddle and heading north at a slow trot along the
road. They rode side by side, tails dangling over
the hindquarters of their steeds and occasionally
being tickled by the long, coarse hairs of their
pony's tails. Their ears and eyes were alert as
they listened to the rhythmic clopping of hooves
on the hard-packed earth, and the weight of their
swords rested against their thighs. And yet for
all that, they relaxed as they rode, allowing the
peaceful serenity of the cool winter woods around them to sooth their nerves.
The road took a northeasterly course for roughly
half an hour before turning northward along a
slight ridge that sloped down sharply to the
east. From there they could look out over the
tops of the trees and see the Valley through a
faint morning mist. Folds and folds of hills,
tree tops mostly barren but some still cluttered
with white, and little sign of habitation. To the
northeast they could glimpse the squat towers of
Hareford, but only if they stood up in the saddle in just the right place.
They slowed their pace at that point and what
should have taken only a half hour ended up
taking a full hour. The air was crisp but a
slight wind coming from the south suggested the
warmth they'd felt a few days earlier in Jetta. A
few birds were already beginning to claim
territory and their bright songs echoed on either
side. Some of the larger woodland creatures
darted across the road only to disappear within
the underbrush; Charles spotted a fox, a badger,
and two groundhogs amongst them; there were
several others that moved too quickly for him to recognize.
The eastern bank of the road leveled out ten
minutes before they reached the bridge. Charles
smiled as he saw it. The stone bridge crossing
the cleft through the earth was new, built only a
year ago after the former wooden structure had
been toppled to the ground by the rat and his
fellow Sondeckis as part of their plan to keep
Baron Calephas from reinforcing Nasoj's army
assaulting Metamor. And it had worked, even if
falling timbers had wounded him seriously enough
that he'd had to spend the rest of the fighting
laying in bed. He even rubbed his cheek where
Baerle had slapped him a few days later when she found out about Kimberly.
And in a few days time, he would be in her
company again while separated from his wife,
wandering through cold mountains on a perilous
mission to protect Metamor. At least she wouldn't be pining for him this time.
A short distance past the ravine and bridge the
road intersected an East-West road cutting along
another ridge overlooking a shallow defile. The
Dragon mountains jutted in a narrow finger
eastward half-a-mile ahead blocking all passage
north. The eastern road headed past Hareford and toward the Giant's Dike.
And the western, Sir Saulius mused as he gazed
down the winding track that disappeared through
the forest of white, brown and green, dost lead
into the mountains where thou shalt venture a few
days hence. Shouldst we explore a little ere thou goest that way thyself?
Charles flicked his tail from one side of
Malicon's rump to the other as he gazed down the
western track shadowed by overhanging elms. It
seems as good as any other. I haven't been that way yet myself.
Saulius spread his jowls wide, revealing his long
incisors as he grinned. The let us... but both
their ears twitched and their heads turned to the eastern road as one.
Horsemen, Charles muttered as he quickly and
silently drew his sword. At least six.
Aye, Saulius agreed. They gingerly backed their
steeds down the southern road toward the Glen and
then into the forest until they were well out of
sight. Both Armivest and Malicon were well
trained, neither grunted in protest, nor did they
stomp their hooves for the strangers to hear.
They waited in silence for a little over a minute
before they glimpsed the six horses and their
riders come down the road from Hareford. They
were Metamorians, led by a black and
orange-furred stocky dog, followed by a
black-haired woman wearing Captain's regalia, a
black-faced, white-furred ram with knightly blue
tabard, two youths, while a tall raven-haired
woman with bow slung over her shoulders took up the rear.
They slowed to a stop as they reached the
intersection. The dog's flopped ears lifted and
his nostrils flared and he spun his head around.
His eyes fell to the hard earth, and then slowly
raised until they were staring into the woods
directly at the two rats. Beside him, the ram
crossed his arms and bleated, You two can come out now.
Saulius chuckled as he led Armivest out of the
concealing brush. Charles followed after with a
curious moue crossing his snout. Thy nose is
masterful indeed to scent us on a day like this, good sir!
The dog scratched behind his left ear with one
paw. I smelled your ponies, he admitted with a
confidant bark. But I can smell you both now.
And if I'm not mistaken, the ram said, still
with arms crossed, then you, my good sir, are
Steppeborn. One of the western horse tribes that
range from the Herstel forest to the river too to judge by your accent.
Sir Saulius's dark eyes widened in genuine
surprise as they trotted onto the road only a few
paces from the six horsemen. Thy ears art most
astute! I hath ere met none in Metamor that hath
recognized my lineage. From thy heraldry and thy
own accent, as well as thy new shape, I judge thee to be Sir William Dupré.
The ram's thick lips broke into a faint smile.
The same. You are Sir Erick Saulius, knight
errant of Metamor, and winner of the golden lance
these last two Summers. And your squire Charles
Matthias I believe. Your reputations precede you;
it is an honor to meet such exalted warriors as yourselves.
Charles and Erick glanced at each other before
allowing their snouts to break into genuine
smiles. And an honor to meet thee, Saulius said
at last with a warmth that pierced the cold air.
Thou art on a similar mission, to patrol the roads in this dark time?
Dupré nodded and uncrossed his arms, resting them
on his thighs, hooves stretching the stirrups for
a moment as he relaxed. Indeed. Allow me to
introduce my companions. Captain Isabelle Sobol,
he gestured to the black-haired woman. She was
dressed in a riding uniform of a dark red
feathered by a blend of gray and white with an
insignia of a horseshoe and human foot.
Ah, Captain Sobol, Saulius showed his incisors
with his grin, thou wert a delight to watch in
last year's joust. How unfortunate that we ne'er had the pleasure of a tilt.
Perhaps this year, she said with a lop-sided
smirk. I've been watching you too.
For the rest, Dupré intoned, gesturing first to
the dog, this is Alexander, and then two the
two youths, Martin and Anthony, and then to the
raven-haired woman, and Samantha, one of
Hareford's chief scouts and tower commanders.
The woman almost blushed as she bowed her head,
braided hair falling across one shoulder. Not
nearly so much as that, but thank you. It is a pleasure to meet you both.
Captain Sobol studied the rats critically. Are
you patrolling for the Glen? I didn't think they had horsemen.
They do not, Saulius admitted. But 'tis the
home of my squire, and for now 'tis where we
serve. We did not expect to see any riders of Hareford come south.
It is good that we have, Dupré interjected
before Sobol could speak. It gives us one more
opportunity to confer with our brothers in the
Glen. How are the people there taking the news from Metamor?
Frightened and determined both. They hath a
strong spirit and wilt do whate'er is necessary to keep the Valley safe.
So it is at Hareford. We've fifty men patrolling
the pass where it is safe. I'll be out there
myself for the next two weeks. But first, I
wanted to cover the southwestern road; there may yet be other passes to guard.
These lands art the Glen's responsibility, Sir William.
And yet they send only two where we could spare
six. Dupré lifted a two fingered hand to ward
off the rat's objection. I do not doubt the
Glen's commitment, far from it. And certainly I
would never question the bravery of her people. I
merely wonder if she has enough men to see to all the lands she protects.
Charles put a paw on his knight's arm and said
softly, May I? Saulius nodded without hesitation.
Sir William, two years ago Nasoj sent one of his
generals, Baron Calephas, to set up a staging
ground in the Dragon mountains just northwest of
the Glen. Calephas, as disgusting and loathsome
as he is, is no fool. His encampments were well
guarded and well disguised. Misha Brightleaf and
I were assigned the task of coordinating with the
Glen scouts, finding him, and driving him out.
And that we did with almost no loss of life.
They've never come back that way again.
That is what the Glen can do, Charles's
whiskers quivered as if an exclamation point.
The ram crossed his arms again and nodded several
times, his ears laying back against the inside of
his curling horns. He snorted when the rat had
finished his explanation and his eyes brightened.
I like to know these things firsthand myself,
but your reputation has reached even my ears, and
I have lived here in Metamor not even three
months. Perhaps you would join us as we ride. I
want to see the land west of here, and your company would be most welcome.
He uncrossed his arms, cast Captain Sobol a brief
glance, before returning his gaze to the two
rats. So what say you, Sir Saulius. Shall we ride together for a time?
His knight accepted without delay. We art
honored to accompany thee and thy valiant companions.
Dupré waved his shaggy arm and laughed. Then
come join us. We can speak more when we pause in
a couple hours. Or reach the mountains, whichever
comes first. The two youths grinned knowingly,
and the dog wagged his tail. The two women
glanced at each other and shared an unreadable
moment before turning to the rats with welcoming smiles.
Saulius and Charles nudged their ponies into line
just behind the ram. Together, the eight of them
continued down the western road, the white-peaked
mountains rising above the tops of the long swaths of elm and pine before them.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
!DSPAM:4e7f644b294005315134984!
_______________________________________________
MKGuild mailing list
[email protected]
http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild
