We are finally here! This is the final part to my story which I
began writing two years ago. And the ideas for this story first were
in my head back in 1998! So I do hope that folks enjoy it (and say so)!
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 VI: Acceptio
(a)
Wednesday, June 23, 724 CR, Early Evening
Both rats tilted their heads up. A loud cheer erupted overhead and
persisted for several seconds before turning into sustained applause.
Their whiskers and ears twitched as dust sifted from the rafters
above to settle across their snouts and drape the golden horses. The
Steppe horses shook their hides and grunted at the annoyance. The one
that had been idly lipping at the fur between Charlie's ears as he
leaned against the wooden slats of the horse's enclosure went so far
as to stomp his hooves, sending another spray across the top of the
rat's head.
The baron and his son brushed the dust from their fur and waited for
the delight of their fellow Keepers to dwindle. Charlie grimaced and
cast one irritated glance at the ceiling. "I expect that means the
mages have finished their show."
His father nodded and stretched his legs from atop the saddle
blanket-draped bale of hale. "It will not be long before everyone
begins to disperse. Are you expected anywhere, Son?"
Charlie shrugged and brushed the last of the dust from the soft
fabric of his leggings. "I am, but neither my father nor the Duke
will take their leave just yet. We have a little time."
"That is all that we'll need." Charles, still trembling, took a deep
breath and closed his eyes for a moment. The horses stabled behind
him draped their heads across the wooden stall doors to watch him;
their green eyes sparkled like emeralds in the lamplight.
When his father opened his eyes a measure of calm had returned to his
countenance. His voice was low and full of regret. "I was lost for a
time after stepping from the shadow and suffering that excruciating
pain. I did not even understand at first that I had been denied the
chance to tell my father what had become of his son. I knew only the
shadow in which I journeyed and in which I smouldered.
"At some point we reached the next terrace but I confess to having
very little memory of that place. What few images of it I recall
speak of a place brimming with trees bountiful with fruit, fresh and
ripe for the picking if anyone could have reached them. All of the
branches were far overhead and the bark too slick to climb. None of
those who sojourn there could reach them to sate their hunger. Of all
that I saw there none of the men were known to me save the one also
in the shadow, and even that one was not a man I knew but one that I
had learned of after our triumph at Marzac."
His father's expression twisted in distaste for a moment and one hand
reached for the empty goblet only to slip back to his lap. His long
tail thumped against one of the wooden slats as he shifted in his
seat. The horses lifted their ears at the sound before turning them
back to the rat. "I knew he was once the Bishop of Eavey and that
he'd been taken by Marzac when sent to help exorcise that demesnes.
But I had nothing to say to him and merely crawled on through the shadow.
"I did not return to myself until we reached the final terrace."
Charles breathed a heavy sigh and shook his head. Above them the
crowds cheered again though the applause did not last as long as
before. When only the creaking of the rafters overhead and the
snorting of horses surrounded them, the Baron leaned forward, hands
gripping his knees, toe claws digging into the hay beneath him. "My
tale is almost finished, my son. What you hear now you cannot ever
breath to another living soul."
Charlie edged closed, ears turned to catch every word.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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