Man, this is my first new Metamor Keep story in
almost six months. Gah, I have got to work on my time management skills.
Anyway, this tale is also something of a first
because it is entirely set in 724 CR. If you are
watching me on FA, you'll recognize the opening
scene as I just posted a sketch of it. Enjoy!
Part 1 of 3
Metamor Keep: Dance of the Betrothed
by Charles Matthias
Monday, August 9, 724 CR
The dust made his nose itch, but the clash of
practice swords was all Sir Erick Matthias could
think of. He dodged to the left and swung his
blade but the frog opposite him was nimble and
pirouetted aside. More dust kicked up as their
legs and his tail lashed the practice grounds
outside Matthias Keep. He wriggled his whiskers
and thrust, unwilling to let the frog gain an attack.
Erick and his dearest friend Bertram usually
trained with Erick's father. But the Baron was
settling a dispute between the stonemasons and
civil engineers building the outer wall. The
second crane had been replaced three weeks ago
and had moved not ten stones into place before a
fight broke out. The engineers accused the
stonemasons of deliberately ruining several
blocks. The stonemasons accused the engineers of sabotaging their work.
It was really about money. Both stonemasons and
engineers wanted more as the outer wall and ring
of towers the Baron envisioned took longer to
build than any had once thought. Money was one
thing Erick's father never had enough of.
He felt a sharp sting on his left shoulder and
stumbled to one side. Ha! Bertram croaked as he
lowered his blade. The match is mine! The frog
stepped out of the dust cloud toward a small
grove of trees; they were the only ones to remain
from the forested promontory on which the Keep
was built and around which the small village and
bailey walls were growing. Bertram dipped his
webbed hands in a bowl of water and then splashed
his face several times. Yellow eyes blinked as
the dust rinsed from his tender skin. Ah, much better!
You know what Father would say. Your enemy will
not give you time to rinse your skin in battle.
Aye, aye, but dead men and dead rats cannot stop me!
Erick laughed and slapped his padded leggings as
he walked toward the copse, trailing little
storms of dust in his wake. He lifted a brass
ewer and lapped the wine within. Bertram tilted
his head forward and blinked; it was the frog's
way of showing disapproval as his fixed wide lips
could neither grimace nor smile like a rat. Erick
set the ewer in the grass and wiped a drop from
his whiskers. I'm dead, and the dead can do what they like!
Bertram bulged his throat sac with a load croak
and hopped into one of the tree branches. Can the dead climb trees?
Erick picked up a pine cone and pitched it.
Bertram ducked and sat down, dangling his gangly
legs out of the rat's reach. I hope not! Now get
out of there. We should practice more.
But the frog didn't move. His yellow eyes glanced
across the outer wall for a moment before
alighting on his friend. More? Still miffed your
brother placed higher in the tourney?
Erick thumped his tail on the ground. Well, aye!
I'm the knight and he's... not a knight!
Bertram laughed, tipped backward off the branch,
and landed on his long, webbed feet. You'll do
better next time. But we won't have any more time
to practice today. I saw a caravan heading up the
road. I think it's Master Julian.
Both delight and a feeling of impending doom
struck him. As long as he could remember visits
from Master Julian meant gifts for him, his
litter-mates, and all his younger siblings. When
they were young he brought sweet candies or
strange fruits from far-off lands. Since his
tenth year the gifts were either fancy clothes,
trinkets to display his station, or delicate
craft of wood or glass to display in his family
home. He gave brief thought to what he might receive this time.
And while he had known Julian and his father's
other friends from Metamor would come to attend
his litter-mate Bernadette's wedding, Julian's
arrival was too soon. The wedding was not for
another three weeks. Even his brother Charlie who
had promised to come early and hunt with him in
the Narrows would only come next week. Julian's
early arrival must be for some other reason.
And with Julian arriving in a caravan, she must
be with him. Lenora, his betrothed.
Are you sure? Erick asked as he set hand to tree. It was an easy climb...
Bertram shrugged as he bent over the bowl and
splashed more water on his face. They were flying merchant guild pennants.
He tested his footing on a burl. Your father perhaps?
Bertram turned his flat head and croaked a laugh.
You know my father always returns from trading
season with as little fanfare as your father will
permit him! He's not likely to be waving pennants
of any color. The frog's skeptical expression
faded and his goggle eyes blinked. Although, he
could be accompanying Master Julian for
Bernadette's wedding. His wide mouth opened in
an amphibious grin. I know one person who will
be there. Your precious lady rat!
Erick scowled and fluttered his whiskers. She is not my lady rat!
Oh, the lovely maid Lenora! Bertram hopped up,
twirled in the air, pressing his arms and hands
together under his chin in an exaggerated swoon.
Fair of whisker and shrewd of tongue! 'Tis a pity she is so young!
Bertram, stop it!
The frog grasped a nearby tree trunk and swung
around, his free hand pressed atop his heart.
Her fur, soft alabaster white. And her incisors, what a bite!
Bertram, I'm warning you!
The frog danced to another tree which he hugged
while tracing one finger across the bark as if it
were a woman's bodice. Beauty she, yet uncertain
he. What could his reservations be?
Erick picked up the brass ewer and hoisted it. I
will brain you with this! I promise!
Bertram flicked out his long tongue and danced
back, bowing like a jongleur. He did not choose
her, Father did. And gave him her as wedding bed!
He flung the ewer, but Bertram jumped out of the
way. The wine spilled across the practice field
and soaked into the dust. Would you hold still!
Argh! Impossible frog! Erick threw up his arms
and stormed away from the trees. He heard the
frog land behind him and felt a webbed hand on his shoulder.
Oh come now, Erick. Why are you so afraid of
Lenora? She seems to like you. I've seen her admire you.
He shoved the hand from his shoulder. So do my
younger sisters but I'm not going to marry them!
Bertram croaked and Erick imagined the frog
trying to roll his eyes. Well, if you really
don't like her tell your father. He's letting
your sister marry a carpenter; a journeyman carpenter even!
Erick stopped and glowered at the outer wall. His
father would be on the other side trying to forge
peace between the workers. I'm the heir. It's my duty.
So do your duty then! Bertram stepped alongside
and cracked his wide lips. Maybe you'll like
Lenora if you spend time with her.
And if I do not like her?
Maybe his grace will invite you on more of his campaigns!
Erick felt his heart lift at the suggestion. Next
year he would join his brother on the long
journey to Vysehrad with the ducal heir so Bryn
could woo King Pelaeth's sister. Bertram would be
at his side, but little else had been decided; or
at least, if Bryn or Charlie had decided anything
more they had not informed him. The thought of
more adventures with the Duke's son and his brother was an appealing one.
In these days of relative peace there were few
chances to win glory and honor for his house.
Well, all right. I will try. But I'm not
forgiving you your poetic jests so easily!
Betram laughed and hooked his arm behind them.
As long as you don't expect me to clean up your mess!
He glanced back at the ewer of spilled wine and squeaked.
----------
A part of Erick preferred waiting at the Keep for
Master Julian's arrival, but after returning
ewer, basin, and practice swords, he and Bertram
rode down the avenue of close-fitted stones
through the village of tradesmen and laborers
until they reached the outer wall. Earthworks
were transforming the hollow nestled against the
mountains into three rings of terraced
fortifications in which a prosperous city could
abide. Only the inner-most bailey wall and Keep
were complete, though the Baron had plans for
expanding each once the other walls were finished.
Where the road met the outer wall a gatehouse was
underway. The northern tower was the sixth in a
planned twelve and the site where his father was
nearly crushed a few months ago. The foundations
for the seventh were laid and trenches were dug
for the next thirty feet, but nothing more. The
hard-packed road running east through the Narrows
widened as it reached the proposed gatehouse and
there it was Erick found his father waiting for the caravan to arrive.
Ah, Erick, Bertram, come! How was your morning
practice? Baron Matthias waved with a smile as
he saw them. His light blue tunic was dusty from
the road and the earthworks, but he sat astride
his pony with patient dignity. There was a touch
of weariness Erick recognized in the crinkle of
scarred flesh around his right eye, but the
twitch of whiskers and delighted jowls were genuine.
Towering above the noble rat was his Steward.
James was already taller by a head not counting
his long ears but mounted on a horse the donkey
now dwarfed his friend of almost twenty years. He
bore a dark blue tunic of similar cut and a
medallion marking his station and fealty to the
Matthias house. The donkey smiled on seeing them,
then returned his eyes to the caravan making its plodding way down the road.
Erick pulled the reins when he reached his father
and chuffed with a shrug. Short once we spied
the caravan. Have the masons and engineers stopped fighting?
His father grunted and tensed his fingers on the
saddle horn. If anything they are making it
worse. They know I need them working before the
wedding and want to rob us blind. I pray you
won't have quite as many squabbles to settle when the Narrows are yours, Son.
I hope and pray they won't be mine for many
years, Father! Erick glanced at the
fortifications and smiled when he saw a trio of
rodent ears at the top of the half-built
gatehouse tower. Do you know why Master Julian
is coming? Bernadette's wedding is still three weeks away...
I do not. I was not expecting him for another
two weeks. This is the busiest season for
merchants. Harvest is almost here and Metamor is
flush with traders with furs from the north and
spices and perfumes from the south. So he must
have a good reason to come to the Narrows now.
How long have you known he was coming?
James shifted in his saddle and pointed to the
tower top with his muzzle. A bird arrived an
hour ago with the news. He turned to the frog
and his ears folded back. Your father is with him, Sir Bertram.
He is? Bertram sat up straighter and wiggled his long toes in the stirrups.
Which is welcome news, the Baron admitted with
a broad smile. I just hope it means trading
season has been more profitable this year.
Does my mother know?
James jerked his snout toward the Keep. I sent
the bird along to the Baroness with the news. If
she doesn't know she will soon.
Of course, the Baron added with a warm smile,
you are freed from your duties. I've already
given the craftsman the rest of the day to spend
with their families; I could do no less for you, Sir Bertram.
The frog croaked his delight. Thank you, milord
Matthias! But... I will wait here to greet Master
Julian and my father with you.
Good man.
The caravans crested the last rise along the road
through the Narrows. A team of two to four horses
led each wagon or carriage while their pinions
marked by coin and weight fluttered with a
mountain breeze. Erick recognized Master Julian
and Bertram's father Gibson riding alongside but
the others were unfamiliar. He did not see Lenora. Dare he hope?
Look out below! a voice squeaked from the
half-built tower. All eyes lifted as three rats
leaped from the top-most stones and glided over
their heads. Erick and Bertram laughed, James
shook his head, and the Baron snapped with exasperation.
Nat! Misha! Meredith! How many times have I told
you to stop jumping from the towers!
The three rats of the second litter waved at
their father before feigning remorse as magical
conduits brought them safely through the air and
to the ground with no more haste than a trio of
leaves embracing autumn. Erick had been almost
three when they were born and could still
remember trying to help their father build new
beds and toys, while his sisters helped their
mother change and dress them. They had been his
playmates for many an adventure and mischief, and
they had always looked to him to decide what to do.
Both Natalie and Misha demonstrated a talent with
magic, doing the same things with witchlghts and
little enchantments their mother did at only
four. The Baroness taught them as much as she
could, before asking the skunk mage to take them
on. Meredith, chubby and affable, had accompanied
them and helped with books and other learning
even though he could not make an oiled wick so
much as smoke let alone handle witchlights. They
were a litter and did everything together; they
knew each other as themselves and could not imagine being apart.
Erick envied them; his litter had always been
apart. Even when Charlie did visit he felt an
absence. He could not remember his litter-mate
Ladero, but he always knew in his heart there
should be a fifth rat. They did not say it, but
his sisters Bernadette and Baerle felt it too.
And in a few weeks Bernadette was to be married;
she would leave the Narrows for the Glen and only
return to visit. And if Baerle made good on her
intentions to join the nunnery at Metamor, the
only rat of his litter left in the Narrows would
be him. The thought filled him with loneliness.
Misha brushed his hands over his whiskers
blinking all innocence. His dusty, almost red
fur, glimmered with a bronze cast in the
afternoon sun. But we were only practicing, Father!
And we took the stairs up, Natalie, hooded
black over white like Erick, added with a broad
smile and click of her tongue against her
incisors. She twirled her chewstick between her
fingers before taking a quick bite.
Meredith, who Erick wished would come training
with him to work off the stones all the extra
pastries and cheese added to his girth, chittered
for several seconds before adding. It did seem easier, and... fun.
But the Baron was undaunted. His dark eyes
narrowed and he tightened his grip on his reins
to steady his startled pony. Your studies are
with Master Murikeer, and he is in the Glen at
present! What if your spell went awry? You could have landed on top of us!
But it didn't, Natalie pointed out.
Misha nodded. Falling like a feather is an easy
spell. We've done it from much higher up in the Glen.
You have what? The Baron sighed and rubbed his
forehead while James tried to hide his chuckle
behind one hand. Erick and Bertram didn't bother.
Erick even gave his siblings an approving wink.
But before they could reply, their father waved
his hands and shook his head. Never mind; I
trust Master Murikeer to keep you safe. But if
you are going to practice falling, please do it
from small rocks and not towers!
They assured him they would, though Erick doubted
their resolve would last the week. We saw Master
Julian, Meredith added after his apology. Could
we stay and greet him when he arrives?
I suppose, if you can find your ponies in time.
You cannot greet our guests on foot.
Natalie and Misha ran back along the wall while
Meredith tried to chase after, his whiskers
drooping and his jowls sour; if there was one
thing his brother hated it was riding a horse.
Bertram shouted encouragement while James and
their father exchanged knowing looks.
As they waited, Erick ran his claws through his
pony's mane, and listened to the familiar sounds
of home. The soft susurrus of voices carried
through the dry, August air, and with them he
heard the ringing of the smithy, the sharp
staccato of sword practice, the clatter of hooves
on stone, and the muffled thumping and grinding
of wheels on hard dirt. He lifted his gaze to the
sky and offered a silent prayer. Eli, what do I do?
He could think of nothing more to ask.
The sound of wagon wheels and voices grew louder
as the caravan descended the long slope. Erick
took a deep breath and straightened out his tunic
as the caravan reached the bottom and started
back up the gentle incline toward the gatehouse.
He felt his father's eyes on him and turned.
Baron Matthias smiled, eyes bright and proud.
Erick sat taller in his saddle as he smiled back.
The second litter managed to find their ponies in
time, as the trio cantered back down the main
road, settling in just behind them as the caravan
neared the gate. The Baron nodded to them, and
then touched his chest, brushing across it with
his fingers. All three looked down, and then
Misha and Meredith quickly brushed little wood
chips off their tunics and put their chewsticks away.
With his family properly apportioned and mounted,
Baron Matthias eased his pony onto the road.
James, Erick, and Sir Bertram crossed the road to
form a line on the other side. Natalie, Misha,
and Meredith lined up across from them. The
caravan stopped before the gatehouse though there
was nothing standing in their way. Coming around
the first pair of wagons was a white-furred,
red-eyed rat sitting awkwardly atop a quarter
horse; a somewhat more comfortable frog followed after him.
The rat, dressed in a black vest and tunic with
gold trim, smiled and waved one arm expansively.
Master Julian was not theatrical like Charlie's
father; every gesture was meant. Baron Charles
Matthias, might we have the honor of entering
your beautiful home and breaking bread with you?
Baron Matthias smiled and opened his arms wide in
welcome. I would be honored to have you as guest
in my home. You are welcome, Master Julian, and
all of your kin and companions. I am very happy
to see you. And you, Master Gibson, you are also
very welcome. Come, let us ride together to my home and talk.
Julian rode forward and fell in beside Charles.
Erick and the rest of the Matthias clan followed
along, leading the caravan. Bertram slipped back
on his pony until he rode beside his father.
Erick turned his head enough to see the two frogs
reach across and hug tight, eyes bright and
proud. The rat smiled for his friend.
Erick found himself riding beside James and
behind his father and Julian, with the second
litter following close behind. He could hear
Meredith grumbling as he struggled to stay in the
saddle while his litter-mates flanked him and
gave him gentle nudges whenever he started to
tip. Bertram and Gibson followed and spoke
moderately, but between the creaking of wagon
wheels and the voice of the rats ahead of him all he heard were croaks.
Charles and Julian spoke cordially and with great
fondness, complimenting each other on their
appearance and health and asking after each
others' fortunes. Erick let his eyes follow the
twitch of two, long rat tails, both a sullen pink
hue. His father's was lined with little brown
hairs, while Julian had white making his tail
appear brighter. They both dangled across the
back of their ponies before sliding over opposite
thighs so as not to lay atop equine tails. Erick's own did the same.
He didn't often think about how unusual it was
for a person to have a tail; he and most everyone
he knew had one. He even felt a little sorry for
Bertram who lacked one. But staring at his
father's and Julian's reminded him if he married
Lenora, their children would be rats too. How
much trouble had he and his litter-mates caused
with lashing tails? He chuckled beneath his breath at the idea.
They followed the road from the incomplete outer
gate toward the first of two finished walls.
Laborer camps dotted the earthworks, and many an
eye peered from ramshackle huts and tents at the
Baron and the merchants as they passed. When they
reached the next wall they all came to a stop and
dismounted. The road beyond was too steep for the
wagons a fact his father had plans to fix in
the next year or two and so they would proceed
on foot while Julian's men unloaded their wares
in the storehouse just within and the horses at the stables beside.
You've made good progress since my visit last
Spring, Julian noted as he handed his reins to a
vole ostler. Shall we discuss your success over
a bit of tea? I have fresh cardamon pods just
imported from Boreaux; they will suit your love for tongue-biting flavors!
I have the perfect leaves for them! Come!
Charles laughed as he dismounted, casting a
backward glance at his heir. Erick, come join us.
It would be my honor, Erick replied. He slipped
from his saddle, letting James take the reins.
The donkey, in his quiet way, had the ostlers and
other servants organized in moments to manage the
horses and ponies as well as to assist Julian's
men with their tasks. Behind him his siblings did
their best to sneak away but the watchful eye of
the Steward marked them; they joined Bertram,
Gibson, and the servants in helping unload the wagons.
Erick chuckled before his breath caught tight in
his throat. The door to the third carriage opened
and a lithe rat the same age as his siblings
emerged. She had white fur and red eyes like her
father, with little ribbons tied about her ears
and a gossamer veil draped between them to
suggest flowing hair. She bore a fetching
vermilion dress to match her eyes complimented by
a small silver locket about her neck. Her tail
was decorated with ribbons in the shape of roses.
Lenora. His betrothed.
She caught his gaze and her whiskers twitched in
pleasure as she dipped in a curtsy. Erick gulped
and after a quick nod of his head, chased after
his father. He hoped Bertram hadn't seen him!
----------
Erick's father brought Julian to his study, a
small room adjacent to his bedchambers with a
hearth, a small writing desk, five oaken chairs,
a bookshelf with a dozen tomes and scrolls, and a
service with freshly stocked kettle, ewer, and
goblets. Charles invited his son and guest to sit
while he rebuilt the fire. Julian noted the lack
of decoration or cushions on the chairs and then
threaded his tail through the back as he sat.
I thought I had chairs with the twin peaks of the Narrows built for you.
Those are in the great hall. And thank you,
Julian; they are quite handsome indeed!
If we have another bountiful season I shall have
more built. You should be greeting your personal
guests with more opulence. It is what they are accustomed to.
So you remind me. But between the wages I must
pay they demand more and more and the
defenses I must build, there is little left for
opulence. He coaxed the flame into life with a
few heavy breaths and then added some logs. There. Do you have the pods?
Julian offered him a small sheepskin pouch which
Charles took to the service. The pouch held two
cardamon pods which he crushed with a pestle and
then swept into the ewer. To this he added a
generous supply of small leaves. The scent
pricked Erick's nose and twitched his whiskers.
I must say you appear to have fully recovered
from your accident three months ago.
Charles nodded as he hung the kettle over the
fire. He thumped his left leg with one hand as he
turned around. I fear I will always be a little
slower with this leg than I once was, but aye,
the wounds are all mended. Erick's eyes flicked
to his father's chest but saw only the blue tunic
and not the scars of stone hidden beneath. So, I
take it the trading season was more profitable
than usual? We were not expecting to see you or Gibson for another two weeks.
It is not over yet, but aye, it has been very
profitable this year. Goldmark is seeing to the
affairs in Metamor and will join us in two weeks
for your daughter Bernadette's wedding. Our
unexpected guests from Vysehrad and the Steppe
brought with them many rare goods as well as
prestige. We've been able to trade at higher
prices with so many come to Metamor and through
our southern factors to obtain such curiosities.
Charles settled down opposite the white rat and
laconically crossed his footpaws and curled his
toes. Metamor's control of Ellcaran and its
trading routes has no doubt helped.
Julian beamed, red eyes brightening. Indeed! My
factors in Menth and Midtown have never seen so
many ships and caravans! A few more peaceful
years and Metamor will be the richest land in all of Galendor.
All of Galendor? Charles chuckled. She will
have no shortage of contenders for such a claim!
Aye, aye. Julian waved one hand and then
fingered at a long, slender pouch on his belt. I
do wish to discuss the state of the Narrows with
you, but first, as your guest, I have something
more than cardamon pods to share. He opened the
pouch and they were struck by the sweet scent of
maple, cinnamon, and apple. Julian took three
chewsticks and handed each of them one. Freshly
seasoned. Hareford syrup and Ellingham apples
with a touch of Tournemire cinnamon. I think
you'll enjoy it while we wait for our tea.
All three rats gnawed at the sticks while the
kettle came to a boil. Erick savored not only the
relief his incisors felt from the gnawing, but
every morsel of flavor he tasted; it was at turns
sweet and tart, and sometimes the little chunks
of syrup he chipped off made his tongue tickle
with spice. By the time he had finished the short
chewstick, the water had boiled and the tea had
steeped. Charles brushed crumbs from his tunic
before pouring each of them a cup of tea.
Thank you, Julian. What an incredible flavor!
You've made my honey concoctions seem bland!
Julian accepted the tea with a pleased grin.
Then my visit has begun on the right paw. So,
Sir Erick, I saw your bouts at the festival and
was quite impressed. A pity your father thrashed you so.
Charles hid his blush behind a sip of tea. Erick
almost spilled his as he sat taller. It was...
was... bad fortune being paired against Father. I
did tell him not to go easy on me. I'm not
ashamed at losing to one of the best knights in
all of Metamor. His father's eyes beamed at Erick's reply.
Nor should you be. But I wager with a little
more seasoning it will be your paw claiming the
Summer Crown. Speaking of which, I hear you'll be
spending the Winter with the ram Sir Dupré.
Aye. Sir Bertram and I will be there to assist
with patrols, training, and with his wall. It is
Metamor's frontier and if I am to do more than
fight in tourneys I will need to be there.
Or journeying to Vysehrad with our headstrong
young ducal heir, Julian noted after a sip. His
voice was light and proud, but shrewd as well. He
wanted to understand what Erick hoped to gain
from such a long and dangerous venture.
It is hard to say no to such an offer and I
would not have even if I thought I could. It is a
chance to serve the heir, strengthen Metamor,
bring honor to the Matthias family name, and to
win renown for myself. It will be dangerous, but
honor means little if I will suffer no risk for it.
And a chance to see more of the world.
I have not been beyond the boundary of the
valley since I was a ratling, Erick admitted,
feeling a touch of jealousy for his litter-mate.
Aye, Master Julian, I do want to see more of the
world. I love the Narrows and the Glen; they are
my home and I will fight for them. But... I
should have this chance too. How am I to be wise
in ruling the Narrows if I know nothing of the world beyond?
Julian favored him a knowing smile. The white rat
knew there was more beneath the wise-sounding
words as did Erick's father but he would not
shame him to reveal them. In sooth. Well said,
Sir Erick. I know you will serve his grace well
and you will bring honor and renown to your
house. And you will see wonders neither I nor
your father have glimpsed. Vysehrad! An ancient
city full of legends! I do wish I could come with
you. It seems quite an adventure!
Little has been decided as to the company,
Erick noted. I am sure a shrewd merchant such as
yourself could help us in many ways during our journeys.
The suggestion caught Julian by surprise; his red
eyes widened and scalloped ears backed against
his head. Truly? Hah! Rats may be well thought
of here in Metamor, but too many beyond may
startle townsfolk. If I were ten years younger I
would actually consider it, but days when I might
adventure are long since passed. My battles are
across the bargaining table, my sword is a
counting box, my quiver is filled with coins, and
my shield a well-stocked ledger. And it is why I
have come so early. He turned toward the baron.
Word of your predicament reached my ears. Tell
me more and I will do what I can to help.
Charles sighed and sagged his shoulders. The
stonemasons and the engineers are quarreling.
Ever since the crane snapped work seems cursed.
Some of the stones have been the wrong shape and
so the engineers accuse the masons of poor
workmanship, while the masons accuse the
engineers of sabotaging their work. I believe I
have sorted through their claims but both are
still demanding more coin; more than I can afford
and still pay my men or bring in the harvest. I
fear if I cannot change their minds I will have
to abandon work on the outer wall for another
year or more until the farms and herds bring more
wealth. You have sent me traders but we have little to trade here.
What of the mountains?
I have already asked so much I do not wish to
ask more. I do have a few gems they've given me
in reserve I can sell, but they will only fetch
enough to see us through the season. I could
finish the gatehouse, but the southern wall will
still be earthworks for years to come. The rest
mean nothing if I cannot finish the wall; and
there are still improvements to be made to the
city and keep, not to mention the roads to the Glen and the Lake.
Erick listened; his father was teaching him of
finance and how to manage a barony, but there was
always more to learn. He watched both his father
and Julian carefully, trying to read what wasn't said.
But you do have income from the farms and the
herds; you control hunting in the Narrows as
well. Have you considered a levy per head of deer taken?
Charles shook his head. I cannot. Part of
accepting my barony meant keeping peace between
the Glen and the Lake. Both have been granted hunting rights on these lands.
Surely you must have other income.
I am still a Long Scout even if retired; no Keep
taxes at least I owe a little to Baron Avery as
I am his vassal. I also have some from sale of
old works from my days in the Writer's Guild, and
I have gifts from time to time, but these are
pittances. Most of my income is from taxes and the land.
Julian sipped his tea and drummed the claws of
his free hand on the arm of the chair. With time
and cultivation your land will yield all you and Erick need for your house.
Barring poor harvests or sick herds.
Aye. But for now you need to finish these walls.
I have come because I intend to help you,
Charles. I do not have enough to finish them for
you, but what I have is yours. In the days and
weeks ahead, I promise you, we will find a solution, my friend.
Erick sat taller, ears lifting in delight at the
offer. Charles sighed into his tea. You have
already offered more than friendship demands
much more! Julian, I... I cannot let you bankrupt yourself on my account!
Rubbish! I am investing in my friend and, his
eyes cast toward Erick, my future son-in-law. I
would be a poor father indeed if I did not ensure
my daughter a prosperous future. Speaking of
which, Sir Erick, Lenora would enjoy a tour of your home.
His fingers tightened around his tea cup. But...
but she's already seen it. His younger sisters,
who played with her as children, and now gossiped
with her in their adolescence, had taken her on
previous visits everywhere within the walls and
even into the new village springing to life around the Keep.
And she should see it again. I'm sure there are
many things you know about the Narrows she has
never seen. Julian offered him a knowing smile.
And if you wish to receive my gift, you'll have
to fetch it from her, young knight.
Charles gave his son an encouraging twitch of the
whisker. Go and spend time with Lenora, Erick.
There will be many days yet for negotiation you
can help me with. I want none other by my side
than you. Little is going to be done today except
the welcoming of honored guests.
Of course, of course. Erick stood and took a
swallow of tea wishing it were ale. Thank you,
Master Julian, for the excellent chewstick and
tea. And thank you for coming to help us!
You're a good rat, Erick. You do your father proud.
He finished the last of his tea, handed the cup
to his father, and took his leave. He stepped
lightly out of the room, but turned his ears back
and slowed his pace as he reached the door to his
father's suite. His father's voice was low but
Erick's hearing had always been excellent even
for a rat. Julian, thank you again for your
offer of help, but... you have given me more than
I could ever pay back already. There would not
even be a Keep here in the Narrows let alone a
half-built outwall if not for you! I must pay for
this myself if I am ever to give Erick a barony
worth its name; if I do everything on credit...
the upkeep alone will destroy the Matthias house in its second generation.
Erick winced; were there other debts his father kept from them?
Nonsense. You owe me nothing, Charles. It is I
who owe you a dept I cannot repay. If not for you
I would be a pauper in the cellars, a debtor in
prison, or a thief in the gallows. You rescued me
from my foolishness time and time again; and not
I alone. Goldmark, Hector, Saulius, and even
Elliot, may Eli have mercy on his soul. We all
owe you more than we can repay. I more than the
rest. And do not be afraid for your family; I
will not let your sons and daughters become debtors either.
You pay me back every day you are an honest
merchant and a rat standing proud and tall,
Julian. Little gives me greater pleasure.
Then as friends we help each other, Charles. No
debts. No repayment. Just friendship.
He heard his father squeak a laugh. Very well.
Friendship. So no more talk of my finances. Tell
me of your trading season this year. What's new in Metamor?
Erick eased out the door and pulled it gingerly
shut behind him. He wondered if his father knew he'd been listening.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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