Merry Christmas, my fellow Keepers! :-)
Part 2 of 2.
Metamor Keep: Asleep, Awake, Adream
by Charles Matthias
May 13, 708 CR
I hope to return often to your fine
establishment, Master Jurmas, Malger offered the
cervine innkeeper a theatrical bow after
depositing a small pouch with more than the
required coin for the rooms he and his men had
enjoyed; part to pay for whatever Rickkter had
helped himself to the night before while the rest
was genuine gratitude for the welcome bed, good
food, and pleasant wine. Have you ever
considered welcoming jongleurs and troubadours to
entertain during the evening meal?
The deer bobbed his head, the first tines of
fresh antlers cutting a careful arc through the
air. Begging your pardon, your grace, but Glen
Avery is not Metamor. We have few of either to
liven our evenings. Certainly none as skilled as yourself!
Malger laughed and favored him with a lop-sided
grin. Then I shall have to mention this lack to a few ambitious ears.
Jurmas could only stammer in gratitude as Malger
made his final farewell and took his leave of the
Inn. Misanthe followed after in two-footed guise
and together they greeted the warm Spring
noon-day air. The commons was filled with various
Glenners, some gossiping, some training, some
trading, and others heading down to the lake to
fish, swim, or bathe. Normal chickens and a few
geese kept for their eggs wandered about in
groups pecking at the ground or running from
boisterous Glen children being chased by yapping
dogs. Any day in Keeptowne would have seen five
to ten times as many crowding the market squares
from the sun's first light to its setting. Even
with the Glen at its busiest apart from
festivals Malger could still enjoy the creaking
of branches, the soft rustling of leaves, and the
spirited song of the many birds watching over their nests.
At the base of the rocky hill overlooking the
commons the heavy-set caravan-master Hesgebaern
busied himself with last minute preparations of
their carriage. He fussed over the rigging and
harnesses and then kicked each of the wheels with
a cloven hoof before giving the half dozen
two-legged horses standing at a short remove a
suspicious glance. Malger, who'd glimpsed the
bison's dreams, knew Hesgebaern still smarted
from Versyd's suggestion the horses he'd selected
in Metamor were not fit to pull the Archduke's
carriage by the simple fact they were purely
normal animals, not those gifted with
intelligence. Still, he would never have given
either Hesgebaern or Versyd a chance if they had
not shown initiative and good sense.
Master Hesgebaern, Malger called in a loud
voice as he took the final steps down the
well-worn path up the slope, is all ready for our return to Metamor?
The bison lifted his eyes, dark thick lips
wrapped about the long stem of a pipe, and stood
as tall as his hunched back would let him. All
is ready, your grace. We can leave at your whim.
I have a duty I must attend to before we leave.
But first... He took the remaining steps and
turned toward the percheron who had watched the
marten's every step since leaving the Inn.
Versyd, you offered yourself and your brethren
as horses to serve my house. If your brethren are
as capable and as determined as you are, I'm sure
I can find room for them. But you, Versyd, I do
wish to hire as my personal mount. I expect you
to serve on four hooves whenever I have need, and
also to train with weapon to serve as bodyguard
when on two hooves. And if there are other duties
I find you skilled in, I may ask you to render
other services. As for payment, is two garrets per week agreeable to you?
Judging by the wide-eyed expression Versyd and
his equine brethren shared none of them had ever
held a garret let alone earned one. Versyd
blinked once and then stood straighter; proud.
It is agreeable, your grace. Do you wish to ride
to Metamor, or shall I help pull your carriage?
Malger pondered the question for a moment. Thin
lips spread in a fang-filled smile. I am hiring
you as my personal mount, lad. Unless the need is
great, you will not be pulling my carriage. A
couple of the other horses who had gathered with
Versyd, all of whom had shown interest in finding
a place in the reconstituted Sutt house, gave the
percheron indignant glares. Versyd had an
expression of surprise and pride. Malger knew he
had just found a man for his house who would serve with loyalty and honor.
As for your companions, Malger continued,
gesturing to the other five horses who'd come
with Versyd, if you are willing to pull my
carriage, to carry riders for my house, and to
serve as guards for my house, I extend to each of
you the same offer. He lifted one hand and
tilted it back toward the bison who more chewed
the end of his pipe than smoked. Providing
Master Hesgebaern decides you are both fit and
cooperative enough for carriage work.
The bison took a step closer in surprise at the marten's invitation, Milord?
Part of being the head of a noble house was
maintaining loyalty and the good-will of his
servants. He liked both Hesgebaern and Versyd,
and the best way to keep peace between the
caravan-master and the horses who would pull them
was to let Hesgebaern have the choice over who
would and would not serve. Master Hesgebaern,
while I attend to my last errand here in Glen
Avery, I wish you to inspect Versyd's companions,
should they wish employment, and select only
those you deem fit for carriage work. You may
hire all of them or none of them, it is your
choice. I expect you to guide them and care for
them on the road as you would a normal horse.
There is a great advantage in having a horse
which understands your speech and can think on
their own. I trust your judgment and I trust you will treat them fairly.
Now to assuage any resentment the other horses
had toward Versyd. And for those selected, if
you prove yourself more than capable and show
good initiative, there will be opportunities for
other positions in my house. I will never let a
good man go to waste. Seeing Misanthe, quiet as
ever, standing slightly to the side Malger
half-turned and proffered a sagacious nod. Nor
woman. The vixen's whiskers lifted and her ears
backed briefly in a demure smile, gaze dipping.
He flashed them one more smile before turning to
walk past the carriage; Misanthe followed quietly
behind. Now, I expect all to be ready for our
departure on my return in an hour. Versyd, I look
forward to learning if your walk is as graceful as your gallop!
The percheron stood taller, eager to prove himself.
----------
After tea the three skunks and raccoon all
excused themselves; Rickkter and Kayla began
their journey back to Metamor while Murikeer and
Kozaithy returned to the mage's villa to continue
its restoration. To keep the children still,
Charles performed a story while Kimberly, Baerle,
and James attempted to hold the squirming little
rats in their laps. The tale was one he'd learned
in Sondeshara and well-suited for children as it
was about new Sondeckis arriving in the fabled city for the first time.
As he finished describing their first day of
training there was a firm rapping at their door.
Charles gave a flourish with one arm and
announced, And so their days as Sondeckis
began! Before sweeping a bow to his children's
delight, and then skipping to the door with two
steps. Beyond stood foppish marten and an
enticing but deferential vixen. Milord Malger!
Misanthe. You honor our humble home. Do come in.
Kimberly pulled their eldest boy a little closer
to her chest, the purple stone about her neck
resting between his ears, as the marten stepped
inside and cast his snout about. Humble? It is a
lovely home well-lived and full of family love!
Is there anything we can offer you? A bit of tea?
No, no, do not trouble yourselves on my account.
I've just had a fulfilling meal and merely wish it to settle.
Charles nodded and shut the door after the vixen
swept through, a smile touching her snout as her
eyes noted the wooden home, its furnishings, and
the clutter filling it. Baerle, James, could you
take the other children up to their play area for a while.
I wanna go swimming, Dada! little Erick
objected as he tried to slip free from the donkey's arms. You promised!
And we will, Charles assured his second son. He
brushed his fingers through the short fur between
his ears and smiled. Once Dada and his grace
finish some business. Now go play with your sisters for a bit.
James and Baerle stood. The girls squirmed a
little in the opossum's arms at first, but had
settled down and held tight around her shoulders
as she carried them up the stairs. James had to
struggle to keep hold of Erick who pointed at his
brother and complained, But Charles!
Will be up shortly, Erick. Have patience, and
attend James as I asked. Charles cast a loving
but stern glance at his second eldest if only
by an hour and motioned for James to withdraw.
His eldest son stared at Malger as if mesmerized.
James carried the still protesting Erick up the
stairs and out of sight. Misanthe deftly captured
a pair of neglected playthings and chew-sticks
from the couch before Malger settled and made
himself comfortable opposite Kimberly. She
settled in one of the kitchen chairs, ceding
Malger the entirety of the couch while Charles
sat next to his wife, tail slipping the slot
between the cushions to lay on the warm wooden
floor. He cupped one hand behind his son's ear
but still he stared at the marten, jaw open, eyes unblinking.
Thank you for coming, Malger, Misanthe. How are you both this day?
Malger stretched and doffed his feathered cap,
looking back at the boy with a curious and
enigmatic gaze. Well enough. I've just hired at
least one of the Polygamites to serve my house,
and perhaps as many as five others. I am now
pondering if Master Murikeer or one of the other
mages could fashion a horseshoe my new horses
might don and doff as need be without recourse to farrier or nail.
Charles's eyes darted to the wooden ceiling and a
small chuckle escaped his snout. Do not mention
it to James; those folk invite him to join their
herd from time to time and it upsets him.
Than I shan't mention it again.
And how are you, Misanthe? Kimberly asked while
smoothing down the fur atop her boy's head.
A tremor touched the vixen's eyes at the question
but her poise covered the moment. I am well,
milady. I have enjoyed my stay in your beautiful
village. Charles knew there was more she could
say, and likely had to Malger, but they were not
words she would share with strangers.
Well, Malger said, eyes still intent on the
dark-furred child in Kimberly's lap, and how are you, little one?
Little Charles's pink nose twitched as his white
whiskers bobbed up and down. All eyes turned to
him, but his own remained fixed on the marten.
His voice was clear, if small and uncertain. Awake, your...
Grace, or Malger if you will, Malger finished
for him with a curious smile. Have you seen me before?
Charles felt a heaviness in his heart as his son
nodded. The boy did not wait to be prompted. Was sleepin', grace.
Kimberly gripped her son's shoulders and looked
between Malger and her husband. An anxious note
touched her voice. I don't understand. What is this about?
Something we both learned last night, Charles
said, his tongue heavy as if he forced an apology
from it. Our little boy has the same ability
Master Malger has. He is I know little how to
explain, my love. When we sleep our minds wander
unaware. Our little Charles is aware when he
dreams, as Malger is. He can leave his dream and
look into others. He saw into one of my dreams
last week and it terrified him. In a low voice he added, As it terrified me.
Your husband speaks true, Malger said, leaning
forward, his eyes meeting the boy's mother.
Little Charles is a Dreamer as I am. Where you,
your husband, and your other children will each
have their own dreams and ne'er step foot or paw
in any other, little Charles can and will visit
each of your dreams as easily as you might visit the rooms of your own home.
Kimberly gaped, pulling her son closer to her
chest. But how? How could he see our dreams?
Malger cast a quick glance at Charles and then
smiled to the worried mother. The same way I
walk the dreams, milady. One paw touched the
crescent moon medallion about his neck and his
whiskers twitched in the pleasure of a great
secret. For whatever reason and from wherever it
came, your son was born with this ability. It is
an ability Nocturna herself granted to man many
hundreds of centuries ago, for the realm of dreams is Her realm.
Nocturna! Kimberly lowered her snout and kissed
her son between his ears. But we are Followers of Eli!
Charles sighed and scratched at his leg with one
claw. And yet in the last year how many times
have we sought the aid of the Pantheon? How many
of their festivals and celebrations have we
participated in since we've come to the Glen? I
have seen Akkala, Velena, and... others face to
face. He shuddered at the dark memories still
clear in his mind. Their power is real. But our
children have been Immersed; they are protected
in a way subtle and powerful. I know the thought
of Nocturna is frightening, but she seems the
least of our worries... for the moment.
Sir Matthias speaks true, Malger nodded and
then smiled down at the boy. But you should not
be afraid. Your son has something I did not. He
leaned back in the couch, resting both hands over one crossed knee.
What does he have?
A family aware of his rare and precious talent.
And guidance in the understand of it. Leaning
forward, his brown gaze shifted from sire to dam
and then down to the child they both touched
protectively with embrace or paw. I had neither.
For many years I knew not what I did, and it near
drove me mad. One did come to me in time, and
guided me. I, too, was Immersed and fought to
cleave to those teachings, until I was embittered
and turned from them. But your son will have a
tutor in these paths if you trust me to teach him.
Kimberly raised one brow and cast Malger a
dubious glance, drawing her son closer. Your
words would have me believe that you wish to be
this tutor to him. She frowned.
Malger nodded slowly, Indeed, milady, that is indeed my wish.
Kimberly's frown deepened into a scowl as she
boldly met the marten Noble's eyes. You have a
certain rather odious reputation, your grace, and
forgive me for saying so, but it is not one I would trust with my children.
Malger took a long breath and let it out slowly,
not dropping his gaze. After a moment he bowed
his head and turned his hands over upon his knee
in a motion of penitence. A reputation carefully
fostered and nurtured, but to noble ends all the
same, as well your husband knows. I do not blame
you or take offense, milady Kimberly. Lifting
one hand slightly he made a short cutting motion.
But that reputation was is for the fosterage
of an ability I have that your son does not. I
assure you on my honor and that of my House and
very title, it is for the safety of your son
and yourselves, your family, and any near you
that I seek to offer myself as tutor to your
son. A soft, rueful chuff puffed his thin lips
and whiskers as he realized just then how
pervasive his long reputation was within the
Valley. He would have to bring it to heel, and
soon, now with a title a tad higher than 'sybarite minstrel'.
But they are just dreams? Kimberly asked, her
anxious voice trembling. Aren't they?
Dreams are very important to us, be they human
or Lutin or Åelf, Malger added, his smile now
gentle. Most are bound within their dreams and
are never given to understand their full import.
Some can never remember them, while others recall
each detail. A very small few might stumble
beyond the bounds of their dreams and into those
of others, but are unaware they do, becoming a
part of the dreams into which they stumble,
mistaking those dreams as their own. All
completely unaware. But a blind wanderer can Act,
interfering with another's dreams. This can often
merely be distressing, but can also be quite
dangerous to both. Your son can, at his own will,
step from his dream and into another's, unchanged
by their dream nor sharing it as his own. He can
affect them profoundly, even dangerously. And
those dreams he walks, now, would be of those
closest to him; yours, your children, your retainers.
Sleepless nights, nightmares, thought coming to
them which are not their own, the sensation of
another speaking when no one is there. These are
some of the little things which can happen. There
is much worse. Your son, without realizing it,
may look in on your dreams, see something he does
not like, and try to change it. Without
understanding he could cause you to suffer any of these.
And then there is the dangers your son faces. He
will see things you cannot imagine; there will be
terrors and nightmares you cannot protect him
from. He has already seen in on your husband's
dreams; it frightened him so much he roused your husband from slumber.
Kimberly turned to Charles and all he could do
was nod. It is true. A few days past Marzac gave
me a terrible nightmare. Little Charles saw it
and woke me telling me he had been frightened by
my dream. Charles sighed and looked at his hands
helplessly. My dream frightened him, not a mere
nightmare as children may have. We cannot protect
him from our own dreams, Kimberly.
For a moment Kimberly stared at him uncertain and
afraid, her grip on their little boy so tight he
started to squirm. But all their ears lifted when
a little voice announced from behind their couch, I'm gonna bite your tail.
Charles blinked and called back, Erick? I
thought I told.... OUCH! He twisted on the
couch, yanking his tail from his other son's jaws
before the sharp incisors could do more than
break the pebbly skin. The little rat flipped
over once and landed on his head. His claws
skittered on the wood as he scrambled back toward
the stairs. Charles stood and glared after him,
one hand trailing down across his tail to check for damage.
Kimberly reached toward her husband. He's
jealous we're paying special attention to his brother and not him.
It's no excuse for such behavior. Charles
rubbed his fingers over the injury but could not
produce any blood. If he comes back down again
he will not be going swimming with the rest of
us. The last he spoke toward the stairwell where he was sure Erick was hiding.
I do not want to be a cause of discord in your
family, Malger said, shifting backward in his
seat, eyes ever on the dark-furred rat in
Kimberly's lap. Little Charles had looked toward
his father when Erick bit his tail, but had
already resumed his study of the Archduke. But,
milady Kimberly, Sir Matthias is correct. You
cannot protect him from your dreams. But I know
how to help and how to teach him. And I offer my
instruction without charge. I will be visiting
the Glen fairly regularly, and when I am here, I
will give little Charles instruction. And it need
not cause his brother any alarm as it will be
within the dreams; at least after he trusts me
enough not to flee when I approach.
He lifted one hand to forestall Kimberly's
objection. And you need not fear what will
happen in dreams. I could ne'er harm the lad.
Should I do so my goddess will be quite wroth
with me, and your husband can attest how
frightening a god can be! I will protect him and
I will teach him how to protect himself from the
dreams of others. It will take time, but without
instruction I foresee only sorrow for you, the child, and all your family.
Kimberly smoothed down little Charles's fur and
nuzzled his pink ears. Her voice quavered a bit
as she asked, What of Nocturna? What will she do?
Malger shrugged his shoulders, casting one glance
to the knight rat before returning to the boy's
mother. I do not know. It is Her realm, so your
boy will know Her, either closely or from afar I
cannot say. Such choice is Hers alone. But his
religious instruction is yours. I will not
interfere if you wish to raise him to be a Follower.
Charles let his tail fall back to the couch and
he settled down next to his wife. He wrapped her
shoulders in one arm and nuzzled her cheek with
his snout. He will be safe, my love. Our boy
will be safe. I trust Malger to keep him safe.
Malger touched the fingers of one hand to his breast. On my very life.
Kimberly swallowed and pressed her hand against
the amethyst medallion. He will truly suffer if you do not, your grace?
Malger stretched his legs and arms as he nodded.
I did. I thought for a long time I was going
mad. Your son will not. He has two things I did
not: a tutor in the way of dreams and a family
who loves him dearly. He offered Kimberly a warm
smile and stood from the couch. Misanthe stood a
moment later. I will be visiting the Glen a few
times a month for three four days at a time. I
believe it will be sufficient time for your boy
to receive all he needs from me. And if you
should venture to Metamor and I am there I will
be happy to spend time teaching him there too.
Regardless of the path you choose, I will watch
over him, as I must, and ward him from harm, or
causing harm, while he Dreams. I will do no more without your leave.
Kimberly climbed from the couch, shifting about
to keep her boy comfortable in her arms. How...
how long would you need to teach him, your grace?
But the marten could only shrug. Years, I
suspect. It is another waking world for your son
and I, the world of Dreams. To know all its
vagaries, its dangers, and its beauties takes a
lifetime. But like all skills, training is only
the beginning of mastery. You are never going to
fully understand your son, milady Kimberly. As
with the Sondeck, possessing it separates one
from those without. I know you will love him nevertheless.
Aye, I will, your grace. Very well, please, your
grace, please teach my boy. Even with her
agreement her voice quavered in fears, tears
gleaming within her eyes. To have her son, but
not know him in some ways most important,
clutched her heart in a merciless fist and squeezed.
I will. You have my word, good Lady Kimberly!
Malger sketched a deep bow and with a flourish
almost skipped back around the couch. I fear I
must depart for Metamor. I will return before the
week is out for little Charles's first lesson.
Until then, Eli's blessing be on you and your family.
Thank you, your grace, Charles called, stepping
toward the door to hold it open for them. I hope
your journey to Metamor is uneventful.
Malger laughed and cast one last look at the
little boy in his mother's arms. Little Charles
stared at him wide-eyed. I'm sure Versyd will
attempt to make it quite eventful. I will see you again soon.
Buh-bye! Little Charles cried out, waving a pink hand toward the marten.
Malger waved back, a gentle smile stretched
across his snout. Good bye, young man.
----------
Versyd pranced beneath the marten for the first
ten minutes out of the Glen before settling into
a comfortable gait. Malger could not help but
delight in the youth's enthusiasm and ability. It
made him wonder why none of the Keep's horses had
ever thought to offer their services on four
hooves before. And as he rode through the
pleasant Spring air, he pondered what other
services animal Keepers might offer in their beastly guises.
The other five Polygamites who'd sought
employment with his house were tethered to the
rigging hauling the carriage in which Misanthe
reclined. The horses the bison Hesgebaern had
used to drive the carriage to the Glen a few days
past were roped behind. Malger would ponder what
could be done with the other horses apart from
pulling wagons after he returned to Metamor.
Perhaps, should he hire a sufficient number of
those of a mind with Versyd he could sell the
other horses away. Keeping the cursed as mounts
could hardly be any more expensive than
establishing a wing of the stables and staffing
them for the sole use of his household.
For once his delight at how responsive and smooth
Versyd's gait was had passed, the marten's mind
slipped back to the little rat child who dreamed.
His smile dwindled into an uncertain moue. For
once he did not need to sleep to hear his goddess's voice.
A few days every other week will not be enough.
Malger grunted to himself; Versyd's ears flicked
back to him in expectation. I cannot always stay in the Glen.
This child will spend more time with your
instruction than he will his father's.
He exhaled long and slow. The sweet fragrance of
honeysuckle filled him as he drew the breath
back. But it is not for me to decide, my love.
But the thoughts were still within again. Malger
sighed, leaned forward, and patted Versyd on his
powerful neck. You've ruined me, Versyd. I can
never ride a normal horse again!
The Percheron Glenner performed a double step
with his hind hooves in delight at the praise.
----------
Charles waded into the cold waters of the lake
and wondered how the frogs Gibson and Bertram
weren't slipping into torpor. Two months ago
there had been ice covering the lake. Now his
children were cavorting about in the shallows
attempting to capture the slippery frog who
glided about on the surface with breathless ease.
Gibson reclined half in the water with gangly
legs sprawled atop the rippling surface. None of
them looked half as cold as the rat felt.
At least he'd had the presence of mind to take
off his shirt. The sun warmed his chest and back
and he did his best to keep his fur above the waist dry.
And, he thought with a smile, all of his children
were playing together; whatever jealousy his
second son had for his eldest at the attention
the archduke paid him had long since passed. How
well he knew the tales of noble houses torn
asunder by rival brothers he had written a few
in his Writer's Guild days and such was the
last he wished for his family. With two sons and
possibly more awaiting them he would have much
sacrifice in the days ahead to keep peace in his family.
Unable to capture Bertram, his boys turned to
splashing each other and their sisters. Charles
laughed with them, eyes ever drawn to his eldest
boy; the Dreamer. How could he ever protect his
son from a foe he could not touch in a world he could not enter?
Only the words of his brother Sondeckis brought
comfort. And whatever happens, do not be afraid for him. He will be protected.
He lifted his eyes heavenward and twitched his
whiskers into a smile. Keep him safe, Ladero. Keep him safe.
----------
--- Postscript ---
When I was two, my Dad heard a little voice under
the table say, "I'm gonna bite your toe". That
was me. And I bit his toe! He loves telling
that story and I am glad to share a little bit of it here. :-)
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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