Finally I begin posting Pars IV! I manage to
finish this part back in September but was so
burned out that I have barely been able to get a
writing regimen in since then. I'm halfway
through writing the next large scale section and
I hope to get it finished up soon. This section
here will be the largest part of the story and in
many ways was the most draining to write.
Recall that scenes set in 724 are 16 years after the current timeline.
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Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats
by Charles Matthias and Ryx
Pars IV: Infernus
(a)
Tuesday, June 22, 724 CR The Fall of Night
It is getting late and I have been talking for
some time, Baron Matthias announced.
Charlie felt as if he'd been slapped across the
other cheek, stinging no less than when his
mother struck a few hours ago. I am not going to
wait for tomorrow after what you have just said!'
And you aren't going to, Charles put a hand to
his throat and frowned. I am parched and I am
sure you must be famished. Let us have some
refreshments brought and then we can continue. I will continue, my son.
He wished that his sire would stop calling him
that, no matter how true it was. He simmered
quietly as he sat with arms crossed on the bench.
But at last he nodded. Fine, you have something brought. I'm not leaving.
Is there anything you'd like?
He wanted to snap back some importune remark, but
steadied himself, claws digging into his
trousers. Charlie took a deep breath and had to
admit that he was feeling hungry. There was a
grumbling emptiness in his stomach that been
there since he'd climbed down from the mage's
tower, but his anger and shame had crowded it
out. Whatever can be found will be fine for me.
I just want to hear this story. Because it seems
like unless I indulge you I'm not going to learn any of these vast secrets.
His sire sighed and shook his head. You're
young. You want the answer right away. It is as
you have always been told. But if you want to
understand why the answer is, you need to hear
the story. You need to see what happened then, Charlie.
Fine, Charlie groused and crossed his arms.
I'm sitting here waiting for the food and drink
and then, with our repast, we can continue the
story. He grimaced at his tone and in a quieter voice added. I am owed this.
Aye, you are, Charles agreed as he stepped
toward the door leading back into the sanctuary.
I will only be gone a moment, my son. Bishop
Hough keeps a supply of food and drink for those
in need. I will send him some of my stores in
recompense. So saying Charles slipped out the
oaken door and gently closed it behind him. A
faint whiff of sweet incense drifted through the
air, and Charlie rubbed his snout and whiskers
with one paw to rid his nose of it.
As he waited, Charlie took a moment to study the
chamber in which they had hid from the Followers
come to pray and adore. He sat upon one of the
tiered benches where the schola practiced their
chants or practiced with instruments, while on
the front wall were cabinets for instruments,
robes, candles and music. On the other three
walls, the usual gray stone of Metamor greeted
him, though not in its usual guise. Here, the
walls had been coated in plaster by loving hands
and frescoes painted. He could see a young
dark-skinned human king dancing with lyre in his
arms in the midst of a throng and an ancient
city. Next to this was a host of winged men with
bright and strong faced blowing long-fluted
trumpets in the midst of a field of cloud
overlooking a small stable in which Yanlin,
Yosae, and the baby Yahshua could clearly be
seen. He saw several other scenes from the life
of Yahshua he recognized from his studies
culminating in the death on the Yew, the
Resurrection, and glorified return the Patildor
hoped for. There were a few details he had
difficulty discerning through the benches, and as
he tried to lean over to get a better view of
them he heard his sire returning followed by something large.
Baron Matthias returned with a pair of goblets in
one hand and a corked bottle in the other. Behind
him lumbered the giant, three-horned reptile, Sir
Zachary. The Yesbearn knight held in his
tree-trunk think arms a covered basket that
reeked of savory meat and aged cheese. A patina
of fruit and bread was mixed into the delectable
bouquet, as well as the suggestion of something
else he could not quite identify. The doorway was
not large enough for Zacahary to fit through
easily and so the Kharrakhaz knight waited there,
one horn and the front of his beak beneath the
lintel, watching and waiting with placid calm.
His eye met Charlie and his beak opened in what
must have been intended as a reassuring smile;
Charlie nodded to him but could do no more.
After setting the goblets and corked bottle on
the bench next to Charlie, he returned to the
massive reptile and took the basket from his
meaty hands. Thank you, Sir Zachary. I'm sorry
to have disturbed your prayers.
Think nothing of it, friend, the knight replied
in a deep voice that had a surprising nasal
quality to it, as if he were honking some of his
words. If you need anything more, Father Felsah
and I will be here for another hour, and then
Father Patric will take our place.
Charles cradled the basket and nodded his head as
he stared up at the reptile. Thank you, my
friend. Give Father Felsah my thanks as well.
Eli be with you.
And with your spirit.
The three-horned reptile pulled the door shut so
gently that the only sound it made was the
clicking of the latch. His footfalls did throb
the floor as he walked away, but by then
Charlie's attention was on the basket his sire
carried. Perhaps, he admitted begrudgingly, I
was hungrier than I thought. That smells very good.
The bottle has some of the cider Bishop Hough
taught the Brothers to make, Charles said as he
set the basket down and drew back the cover to
reveal two loaves of bread, salted pork, two
wedges of a very sharp cheddar, two peaches, and
small pouches with a blend of spices. He spread
the cover between them and then offered the
basket to Charlie. Divide this between us and I'll pour the cider.
Since there were two of most things the division
was a simple matter of taking each item from the
basket and laying it on one side or the other of
the linen cloth used to cover the basket and now
smoothly draped over the bench like a peasant's
table cloth. As Charlie split the meal he watched
his sire slip a claw into the cork and twist it
free with ease. Had Charlie tried that he would
have nothing to show for it but a broken claw and
a cork wedged more firmly in the bottle. At least
his sire put his strange powers to good use from time to time.
After filling both goblets with the
sweet-smelling cider, Charles tipped his back and
swallowed half of it. A pleased sigh escaped his
throat and his smiled at the edges of his snout.
Truly Bishop Hough's recipe never fails to
please. Well, now that I have had something to
drink, and I see you have arranged our meal, I am ready to continue.
The bargain was struck but it was chicanery; a
ruse to distract Nocturna long enough to open a
way beyond her reach. And it worked. Your father
helped me find my way into the Dreamland and to
meet Nocturna face to face. That was my secret
intent even if I did not understand what I truly
intended. As I look back on it, his sire mused
as he sipped another small gulp of cider, I must
confess I believe that Nocturna knew more of what
was happening in all of our lives than she ever
admitted. Naturally I have no interest in
learning that for myself. Your father and you may
comport with her because of your ability to slip
awake into dreams, but I have no such skill and
thus no reason to converse with her again, though
before all of this was over I did speak to her one last time.
Charlie sniffed at one of the small pouches of
spices and detected a blend of rosemary and
thyme. He sprinkled some onto his salted pork and
cheese before breaking a chunk free of each to
eat with the bread. So where did you go if not
to Nocturna's realm? Where could you go that the
Mistress of Dreams could not reach?
I went... Charles' shoulders slumped for a
moment and his entire posture seemed to collapse
inward. His eyes stared as if he were seeing all
of the Valley and more in a single glance. The
rat's tail curled around his legs as if
protecting them. His tunic fell open at the top
revealing the scar of stone across his chest. His
whiskers drooped and his ears lowered as if he were in mourning.
And then he shook his head and downed the last of
his goblet. Forgive me... it is not a place I
ever wish to see again. It is a place no man
should ever wish to go. With each step it grew
more terrible and with each step what shreds of
hope a man had would be abandoned forever.
Because, my son, I had stepped across a bridge
from the Dreamlands into the very Hells themselves.
Charlie swallowed, his whole being suddenly cold.
His ears lifted and turned toward his sire so that not a word would be missed.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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