Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats
by Charles Matthias and Ryx
Pars III: Descensum
(q)
Saturday, May 12, 708 CR
For the first time in days Charles awoke without
that sense that he had to awaken twice; he felt
connected; centered. Dawn was more than an hour
away but he felt wholly and completely himself.
Charles called to mind any dreams he had, but
they slipped away like smoke broken by the wind.
Even the events of the day before seemed distant
with few details revealing themselves clearly.
Nothing of any consequence seemed to take place
in the Narrows; he and Garigan had explored its
eastern extent all the way to the road that
connected the Glen and Metamor which overlooked
the eastern half of the valley and in the distance the haunted woods.
He blinked a few times but could not recall
anything worth noting. They had returned early to
the Glen and spent the rest of the day at his
home. A small smile touched his muzzle as
remembered playing with his children, but it did
not last. A glance at his left revealed his
wife's pointed snout, ears spread to either side
as she lay on her back still sleeping.
False! She is a liar!
He ground his molars together and slipped from
the bed. Something had happened to his wife in
the days since she had acquired the stone she
wore about her neck. At first she had only lied
about what the stone was or from whence it had
come, but now anything involving the stone ended
in some manner of deflection, an evasion,
anything to keep him from learning the truth.
She does not trust you.
Charles scowled and turned away to get dressed.
There was only one thing that could heal the
wounds of distrust and sadness that consumed his
family. He hoped and hoped that he would hear the answer he deserved.
You will.
----------
He tended to Malicon as was his duty as a knight,
but once the pony was fed, brushed, and otherwise
ready for the day, he left him in the stable with
an extra portion of grain so the rat could
perform one errand before either Garigan or his
wife might come looking for him. James, Baerle,
and the others in their scout team would return
to the Glen that evening so they could not
intervene. Only Garigan or his wife might try to
stop him, misunderstanding and seeing darkness where there was only love.
Charles walked without even clicking his claws on
the wood floors. His tail deftly maneuvered
behind him without touching anything. He touched
nothing, not the chairs, not the tables, not the
doorjamb, not the lintel, not the counters, not
even the door to the rooms within but for the
barest grip upon the latch to open it. None saw
him enter, for even though Jurmas was bent over
the hearth preparing a fire, his ears did not
note the rat's passage, nor his nose pick up his scent.
Not until he stood before the very door beyond
which slept the noble marten did he dare make a
noise. He lifted one hand and rapped his knuckles
upon the wood three times. When no answer was
heard he repeated the rapping. And waited in the dark.
He could hear the muffled sound of voices
conversing beyond and then the fox's voice came
clearly through the wood, My Master bids you
wait until he is properly comported.
And so Charles did.
He will agree.
He flexed his fingers, running his thumbs across each claw in turn.
He will agree and open the dreams to you.
Charles licked the back of his incisors.
And the world beyond the dreams.
A little light blossomed beneath the door jamb, a
single lantern perhaps. The light illumined his
toes, short claws glimmering, but all else in the
hall remained dark. He heard the sound of bodies
moving, words whispered, and beastly growls. But no sound came from him.
When the door opened he blinked his eyes once at
the dim glow of a single candle within, and then
stepped into the doorway no further. Malger sat
upon an unkempt bed naked to the waist clad only
in breeks that he'd hastily donned. Misanthe
stood to one side in a robe that gave her warmth
and something for men to admire. He paid her no
mind, focusing his gaze entirely on the dreamwalking marten.
Good morning, he said simply. I am sorry to
disturb your slumber, but I am meeting Garigan to
ride out to the Narrows with the dawn. Do you have an answer for me?
Malger nodded while rubbing the sleep from his
eyes with the back of one hand. Ah, Sir Charles.
Good morning to you as well. Aye, I have your answer.
He will do as you ask.
I will bring you into the dream tonight to make your bargain with Nocturna.
A bargain to open the ways for Ladero. You will see your son again this night.
Charles smiled in relief, his eyes warming. He
let out a long sigh with that smile, his entire
posture relaxing in hope. Thank you, Malger.
It must be done secretly. He wants it a secret too.
I know you wish to keep what you can do a
secret. Perhaps one of the caves beneath Lars'
brewery would provide the best venue. I will not
be able to join you until well after dark at any rate.
Malger nodded again and stretched one arm. And Lady Kimberly?
Perhaps a portent in her dreams is all she needs. To cease her lies.
She should not be disturbed unless necessary.
Perhaps a portent in her dreams is all she needs.
Let us find out what sort of bargain can be
struck, what price will be asked, and then I will decide what is best.
The price will be steep, Malger cautioned as he
worked his jaw loose. Perhaps too steep.
The price does not matter.
Charles shrugged. I am grateful for your
concern, Malger, but I will be the judge of the
price. Tonight then in the caves?
The marten nodded again and blinked his eyes, the
sleep still not quite gone from them. I will see
to the arrangements. Now if there is nothing more
you may go. I have duties of my own to tend. The
Light be with you and your family, Charles.
And with you. Charles inclined his head to both
the marten and to the fox before disappearing
silently down the dark hall. Though all was dark
and quiet about him, his heart beat with a fierce light.
Tonight you will see your son.
Nothing else mattered but that.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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