I'd like to thank Jack for inspiring the walk-on character in this scene. :-)
Part 3 of 4.
Metamor Keep: Bearing the Wolf-Touched
by Charles Matthias
May 16, 708 CR
Early afternoon was one of Quoddy's favorite
times to sun himself next to one of the fountains
in the marketplace. The fountain centerpiece had
once been of a quartet of rearing horses but had
been destroyed by Nasoj's army nearly a
year-and-a-half ago; much of what was lost in the
assault had been repaired but not the fountain.
Still, the basin was clean which allowed the gull
to swim a little if he wanted, and it had been in
the sun all day long which meant the stones were warm too.
The best part were his fellow Keepers. Beginning
a little before noon and throughout the rest of
the day, they would come, usually in threes and
fours but sometimes alone, to recline by the
fountain and eat their midday meal; many would
happily share a scrap with a friendly gull. It
was a game, and most knew it, teasing him with
some morsel of bread and cheese or worse,
fresh-cooked fish until Quoddy resumed his more
human guise and traded a few pleasant words with his friends.
It was there his brothers found him. A blue-red
speckled tokay newly arrived from Bradanes and
one who had not yet realized Quoddy's true nature
was tearing off a small morsel of an
odd-smelling meat for him when two larger forms
descended from the sky and settled on the rim of the fountain behind him.
I told you we'd find him here, his brother
Machias cawed. The puffin noted the gecko and
laughed. He's not really a gull you know.
Quoddy swelled in size, and lowered his beak
toward their scaly brother. Please forgive me the deception.
The tokay stared with large yellow eyes and then
emitted a croaking laugh. I should have known! I
remember meeting you three at the Fellowship in
January. You're the ones who spend Summer and
Fall traveling the coasts of Sathmore. I'd be
happy to share my meal for a story of your adventures.
Life as an animal is boring, Lubec noted with a
shrug of his wings. The cormorant stepped
carefully around the fountain so as not to slip
and dampen his feathers. You spend most of your
day fighting the other birds for every scrap of
food when you aren't flying. But it does give you
time to lose yourself in contemplation. Far
better than most adventures you hear of in stories.
The tokay cocked his head to one side which made
his wide-jawed face look as if he were about to
topple over. I spent my last few years hidden
beneath rags because of disease. You speak true, friend.
Lubec, their brother said as he offered the tokay a wing.
He grasped the black feathers gently between two
thick-fingers. Wyaert. It is a pleasure to meet you.
Quoddy offered his brothers a beak-grin and then
extended his wing. And I am Quoddy.
Machias, the puffin added, though he was too
far back along the fountain to do more than hop about on webbed feet.
Wyaert tore an extra two chunks of cooked meat
and offered them to the birds. Lubec appeared
dubious. I do not think we all have a story we can tell.
Consider it a gift then between new friends! I
do not have time to sit for a single story
anyway; I must return to my duties soon. Master
Dunkirk will chop my tail off if he catches me sun-bathing on a rock again!
Isn't Dunkirk one of the stone masons? Machias
asked after gulping his morsel down.
It is what I apprenticed as in Bradanes. He
lifted one hand and wiggled his dexterous
fingers. I can feel the stone even better now
than I did back then. Who knows? Perhaps I'll
even help repair this fountain one day. He
lifted his meat and bit through half of it.
Thank you very much for sharing your meal,
Quoddy offered in a conciliatory tone. I owe you
a story, Wyaert, and I will deliver. Do you come here often?
The tokay gulped down the last of his meat and
stood, stretching arms, legs, and tail. I think
I will. The sun is warm, the food is good, and
the company is rewarding! Eli's blessings, my friends!
They watched Wyaert disappear back into the
crowds in the marketplace. Once they lost sight
of him, Machias cawed a little laugh. Why are
you begging for food, Quoddy? We have money aplenty now.
Quoddy nodded. I know. Duke Thomas had named
them honorary members of the Long Scouts and so
they received the same generous wages. But every
copper I spend on some tasty morsel is one less I
can give to the Ecclesia or to the Fellowship.
We've never needed money before and they always
do. None of them had even owned a pouch to keep
coins after their change. They'd carried their
first donations to Father Hough and Emily in their beaks.
Lubec spread his wings as if to dry them, and
then settled down next to his older brother. We
cannot always be just birds. I cannot just... go back to the way things were.
I know. But I'm not sure what else we are suited for.
Maybe we aren't, Machias offered, nudging a bit
of shed fur off the fountain with a webbed foot.
Maybe all we have to offer is three smart birds.
We are more than smart birds, Lubec insisted
and snapped his beak shut. But, he conceded
with a long exhalation, maybe it's all we can
offer now. But I will not go back to living as a
bird for half the year. I love the sea too and do
not wish to lose it, but... it feels like we only
fly from what all our friends here face; we
abandon them. But I will not spy for Metamor
again... I cannot... at least... not for now.
Quoddy nuzzled his brother with his beak and
rested his wing claws on his back. We won't. And
you're right. There must be something more we can
do. Not all of our winged brothers and sisters
serve as spies or scouts either. Why don't we ask
them? Eli will help us find our way. Together.
Lubec's eyes smiled and he beak-nuzzled his
brother in return. Thank you. Now about begging for food.
I'm not going to spend money on myself, Quoddy
objected with a squawk. It doesn't... His eyes
lifted, along with many other Keepers in the
market, as a shape flew overhead. Dragons were a
common sight in Metamor especially after the
Curses when a few of their own had joined the
draconic ranks; there were also a few dozen young
dragons from the mountains who offered their
services to Metamor so they might have adventures
to increase their stature among their own kind.
But even though the passing of a dragon overhead
was something they expect to see every few days
or so, for most Keepers their magnificence never lost its luster.
For Quoddy the sight was more than a marvel of a
mighty dragon; it was the welcome return of a
friend. Look! It's Pharcellus! His brothers
snapped their heads up to see even as Quoddy
shrank to his feral size and beat his wings,
lifting off from the fountain and working his way
up into the sky. His brothers shifted and chased
him, eyes locked upon the gray-scaled dragon descending from the northwest.
They had no chance catching up to a dragon in
full flight especially not when starting from the
ground. But Pharcellus was descending from the
upper air, turning in a long circle above the
mighty fortress at the northern end of the hill
on which Keeptowne was built. On his second pass
around they were high enough in the sky to catch
his attention. Pharcellus's determined expression
broke into one of delight, long jaws opening and
golden eyes brightening. His long neck ducked and
rose, carrying his body in a cavorting dance out
of his spiral and into their midst. The brothers
had to beat their wings to keep from being spun
about in the enthusiastic dragon's wake.
They saved the rest of their greetings for the
ground. Pharcellus banked to the field north of
the Keep where the Duke preferred dragons to land
and the brothers followed. After setting claws to
earth, Pharcellus's body shrank in on itself
until a crimson-haired young man was standing in
his place. He spread wide his arms and with
buoyant laugh welcomed each of the birds with a firm hug.
Quoddy! Lubec! Machias! It is a joy to see each
of you again! I was hoping I would find you on my
return. How are the heroes of Fjellvidden faring?
Lubec tensed at the name, but the joy of seeing
their friend was greater. We are very happy to
see you! How was your journey back? Did Lindsey stay behind?
How is your wing? Quoddy asked, remembering the
scar stretched halfway through the leathery folds.
And how are the people of Arabarb? Have they
kicked out the rest of Calephas's troops?
Machias squawked, not willing to let his brothers
be the only ones to ask questions.
Pharcellus waved his arms, tipped back his head
and laughed, long hair bouncing with each breath.
You peck me with such wonderful questions and I
am eager to tell the tale for each! But I am on
an errand of utmost importance and must be brief.
Forgive me so small a token for such dear friends!
Quoddy laughed inside, though he would have
enjoyed hearing a dragon's tale for each.
The journey was uneventful but pleasant. Lindsey
is much more confident in the air and now hardly
ever crashes when he lands. My brother has come
with and we brought Jerome as well. We stopped at
Glen Avery first and there they remain awaiting
the word I will bring when my errand here is
complete. My wing is still weak, he said with
lowered his head as if in shame at the admission,
but it is good enough for an easy flight;
another month or two and it will should be fully
recovered. And all our friends in Arabarb are
well; they returned triumphant from their first
sortie to reclaim the mouth of the river. The
hinterlands and the coasts await but they are
flush with hope to see the last of the brigands routed by Winter's return.
He gestured with his chin toward the
blue-liveried soldiers approaching them from the
castle. Doubtless yon Duke will wish to hear
this news, but I fear it must wait for my errand
here is too important. Jerome's life hangs in the
balance! This last he said with such sudden
intensity they lifted themselves to stand on the
tips of their webbed feet in anticipation for the rest of the dragon's tale.
Is he still... beastly? Quoddy asked, trying
not to look at his cormorant brother as he spoke.
They never mentioned Gmork or Lubec's
enslavement. Lubec was still haunted by the
occasional nightmare, though his days were spent
aiding in any way he could those he loved and
knew at Metamor. Most of the time there was no
hint at the wound he suffered except the mottled
feathers strewn about his nest come morning. Even
at the word from Quoddy there was no outward sign
other than a faint tightening at the corners of his yellow eyes.
Pharcellus's lips drew into a serious moue his
penchant for exaggeration did not extend to the
needs of his friends. I fear it is true. My
errand is for his benefit so I do not wish to
delay. The soldiers were almost upon them and to
them Pharcellus turned his back. Tell me, my
friends, do any of you know where I might find Archduke Malger dae ross Sutt?
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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