Part 2 of 3
Metamor Keep: Dance of the Betrothed
by Charles Matthias
Lenora always enjoyed visits to the Narrows. At
Metamor, even among her father's merchant
companions and their families, most of whom were
rats as they, there was a sense they had to prove
their worth as rats every day. Here in the
Narrows rats were beautiful and respected. All
the rats she knew in Metamor possessed an air of
defense as they went about their daily tasks
whether they be trading and bartering among the
merchant class or wooing the nobility and wealthy
aristocracy for position and status.
The Matthias family showed her nothing of the
sort; they were open and eager to welcome her,
complimenting her on her beauty without having to
boast of being rats. To be a rat was not a banner
to be raised as a weapon against those still
human or those who'd become large beasts with
claws and fangs suited to war. Being a rat was
simply what they were; being a rat was loved for its own sake and nothing more.
Not to say Lenora did not love Metamor nor her
friends there. She loved the city of her birth
with its boundless variety, boisterous life,
dress, food, and music, breathtaking
architectural beauty, and even its burgeoning
intrigue. Her earliest memories were dangling by
her snout and claws from her father's counting
table while he was arranging some deal; she had
always begged him to let her move the stones and
how she savored the look of pride in his eyes
when she finally learned the art. When each deal
was complete her father and the trader would
shake hands and place the other on each others'
shoulder; she'd squeaked in surprise and joy the
first time a trader turned to her to do the same.
So when the time came for her and Erick to wed
and live in the Narrows she knew she would miss
it. But at least the company of the Matthias rats
would be sweet salve for the pain.
The journey from Metamor had devoured their
morning and if not for the basket of bread,
cheese, and fruit she'd packed the night before
she'd be famished. The streets of Metamor had
been filled with merchants going hither and
thither and then the road to Tarrelton was
swamped with fur traders down from the north and
soldiers patrolling the woods making progress
slow and tedious. Her father and Master Gibson
rode with her and they spent the hours talking of
affairs of family and of fortune. Lenora
listened, gnawed her chewstick when the need
touched her, and offered a word or two when rat
and frog fell silent. They greeted her thoughts
with delight, her father smiling in approval and
Gibson nodding his ponderous head, yellow eyes brimming at his friend's pride.
When they reached the Narrows both her father and
Gibson left the carriage to ride the rest of the
way, leaving Lenora to herself. She enjoyed
another of her father's chewsticks and listened
to the creak of wagon wheels, the heavy gait of
horses, the muttering of the men driving them,
and the faint sounds of the forest beyond her
windows. She watched the trees and wondered what
the woodland life was like. She smiled as she
remembered the Baroness dressing her in some of
Nat's clothing so she could learn to climb with
Nat and her older sisters. She'd been so afraid
of slipping her little claws dug in tight with
every step; she'd had no idea how strong they were until then.
The reverie was cut short when they reached the
gatehouse. Lenora listened to her father and the
Baron greeting one another while she tidied her
dress and the ribbons on her tail. Once satisfied
she poked her snout of the window and squeaked
her disapproval; the two wagons in front were
blocking her view! Put out, she sat back down and crossed her arms.
Lenora only stood again once the caravan came to
a second stop, now at the base of the inner wall
leading into Matthias Keep. Their driver, a
black-furred bear with lighter face, opened the
door of her carriage, We've arrived at the
Narrows, Mistress. We have to walk the rest of the way to the Keep.
Very well. She stepped from the wagon and
smiled up to the bear; even with him on the
ground and she on the carriage steps he was two
heads taller. Please bring the satchel with
father's gifts, Clark. Baroness Kimberly will know to whom each goes.
The bear nodded his head and offered her a warm
smile. My pleasure. He had been in father's
employ as driver and personal guard since she was
a ratling and used to let her ride on his back in
both man-like and beast shape. He was twice her
size and would have done so still if she asked.
While Clark attended to their supplies in the
rear of the carriage, Lenora cast her eyes across
the low wall protecting the town and spotted the
Matthias clan gathered to welcome them. Her eyes
at first touched upon her friend Natalie, the one
rat sister her age, and then slipped to the other
hooded-black-over-white rat nearby. Her betrothed.
Erick Matthias was three years older than she,
with a short, stout frame like his father's. He
wore a brown tunic and green vest of decent if
not fine quality, but nothing to decorate fur,
ears, or tail. He did not even don shoes, his
long toes splayed in the dirt like another hand.
Competent if not seasoned as a warrior, he still
had the bearing and poise mastered from years of
training. He was a very handsome rat.
His dark eyes, almost lost in the black fur of
his face, caught her gaze. For a moment his jaws
opened in surprise; she even saw his tongue
behind his incisors. Then he spun away, almost
running up the hill behind their fathers, long tail bouncing behind him.
Lenora laughed to herself, whiskers lifting with
her smile. Handsome and cute too.
----------
It is not much, but at least there is one room
in this cramped castle a woman can feel a lady.
Lenora sat down on a corner of the satin chaise,
tail draping over one end, and smiled to her
hostess. Thank you, Baroness. This is from
Urseil's is it not? And do I smell Jardin perfume?
The small parlor within Matthias Keep had two
chaise lounges around a hearth, cabinets along
either wall with mirrors and grooming kits, and
adorned with vases with flowers, a service with a
supply of wine, cheese, fruit, bread, and
chocolate, and a few cushioned stools. The room
and its furnishings were decorated in bright but
soft colors and illuminated by a small fire and a
score of witchlights hiding in a glass
chandelier. After half-a-dozen years of use by
the Matthias women the strongest scent was rat,
but as this was so familiar and welcome to her
she barely noticed; the flavor of fire, the
luxury of chocolate, and the tantalizing bouquet
of perfume were what her nose savored.
She had only sat down and already Lenora felt
relaxed. Baroness Kimberly had brought a small
sample of the aristocratic life from the great cities to the Narrows.
Very good, Lenora! Kimberly smiled as she
stepped to the service and glanced at the morsels
arrayed there. Her two eldest daughters,
Bernadette and Baerle, were sitting upon the
stools, while the two girls from her third
litter, Mary and Theresa, were grooming their
older sister's fur with little combs and tying
ribbons around their ears and tails. I bought it
when we visited Metamor for the Summer Festival.
So many of the perfumes they sell are too strong
for rats, but Jardin's was so gentle I couldn't
resist. And the satin is from Urseil; a gift from
Kendrick three years ago we were finally able to
use. How is he and Lydia? They have not visited
the Narrows since; I hear they have a daughter now?
Lenora nodded. Last year. Eselbaeth is a
pangolin too, just like her older brother. And
Lydia is expecting again. The whole Urseil family
has not stopped celebrating for months!
Kimberly beamed at the news. Wonderful. I will
write them a congratulatory note. Charles wanted
to invite them to the wedding, but he wanted to invite half of Metamor too.
Bernadette's ears perked and her bright tan fur
thrummed with her whiskers. Lenora turned to her
and offered a warm, incisor-filled smile. I am
so happy for you, Bernadette. Godfrey is such a
good man. You are going to be so beautiful at his
side. Have you your dress? In truth, Lenora did
not know the groundhog; she had only seen him in
passing on earlier visits to the Narrows and the
Glen. He was a journeyman carpenter with some
skill but even when he became a master it was
unlikely he would have renown in Metamor.
Bernadette shook her head. It is almost ready.
It's going to be so beautiful, with lace flower
cups down my back and tail and a crown of white
roses in my ears. But oh, Lenora, you are looking quite lovely already.
And would you care for anything to eat?
Kimberly asked, her eyes noting her four
daughters before returning to Lenora. You must
be famished after such a long journey.
I would care for something, thank you, Baroness.
As long as there is some chocolate I'll eat anything else!
Oh yes, chocolate! Bernadette agreed. Next to
her Baerle nodded, though her enthusiasm was
restrained to a whisker-dancing smile. The two
younger sisters quivered but kept to their duties.
Kimberly prepared a small plate of morsels and a
small glass of wine for Lenora before settling
herself down on the other lounge. The purple
stone medallion bounced atop her bodice while she
straightened her sky-blue dress. Mary, Theresa,
be dears and bring your sisters and I something
to eat as well. Then you may groom our guest until she is satisfied.
I do not...
But the Baroness cut her off with a glance. You
have had a fatiguing journey, Lenora. They will
only freshen you for the Narrows.
Lenora picked up a small morsel of chocolate. The
flavor was divine, and inside the nugget her
incisors found a piece of walnut. She let the
sweet, richness permeate her mouth. All the while
she watched the younger sisters, both with dark
brown fur like their father, ready plates for the
elder sisters and their mother. I hear Mary and
Theresa will be going to Metamor soon. Duchess
Sutt is taking them on with their brothers for a
year and teaching them to serve house. Or so I heard.
Aye, Kimberly replied with a fondness and a
touch of regret in her eyes. We will miss them
here, as we do Peter and Timothy, but it is
important all our children know how to keep a house for when they marry.
Or, Lenora thought to herself, if they do not
marry and need employ themselves as a servant to
a wealthy house. As nobility they would never be
common servants, but they might be stewards or
mistresses of kitchens and the like. The Matthias
house had almost no money and as a new house, few
prospects for marriage. Their remaining children
would all be forced into the life of soldiers,
scholars, servants, or laborers if they did not
show talent with magic like Natalie or a calling
to religious life like Baerle. Perhaps only Erick
and his brother Charlie would be able to truly lead a noble's life.
How she wished she could help.
My father does have something for them, and for
you both too. Clark carried it in the satchel
there. The bear, who waited patiently outside
the parlor in an antechamber so small he could
almost touch opposite walls and ceiling without
stretching, had left the satchel beside
Kimberly's lounge. The lady rat shifted about,
bunching her dress beneath her legs and tail, and
opened the satchel. She peered inside and poked
about while Mary and Theresa brought trays and
little glasses of wine to Bernadette and Baerle.
They came up to Lenora, gave curtsies with eager
smiles, before moving behind her. She felt little
clawed fingers begin teasing at the veil behind
her ears and the ribbons on her tail. They even
undid the strings of her blouse and exposed her
back. She chittered in pleasure as they ran soft brushes through her fur.
Oh my sweet Eli, look what treasures Master
Julian has brought for each of you, Kimberly
gasped as she sat back up. In one hand she held
an emerald brooch cut in the shape of a heart and
inlaid in a medallion of gold, and in the other a
set of prayer beads; the chain holding the beads
was gossamer thin weave of gold, and each bead a
colorful stone of iolite, hematite, and
chrysolite; the Pater Noster stones were tiger's
eye. Each gift was worth more than the sum of all
the gifts her father had ever given the Matthias children.
I've never seen anything so beautiful!
Bernadette stammered and squeaked. She almost
dropped the plate of cheese and chocolate as she
stumbled toward her mother. Baerle was only a
touch more composed than her sister, setting her
plate on the stool before stealing across the
room to run her fingers in awe down the length of
the chain, claws touching each bead with wonder.
A Queen's prayers. I am not... Oh so beautiful!
Kimberly allowed Baerle to cradle the prayer
beads in her hands before turning and securing
the brooch about Bernadette's neck. The green
heart settled above her breasts in her soft tan
fur. It's... like the heart of the forest. I
love it! Oh, Lenora, your father is such a
wonderful man. Do you see it? I... I cannot believe it!
Lenora beamed, and picked up a piece of cheese
between two claws. Father had it commissioned
the moment we heard of your betrothal. And the
same with your prayer beads when we heard you
were thinking of joining the nunnery. Have you decided?
Baerle shook her head, eyes never leaving the
beads which she pressed to her snout as if
kissing them. Mother Wilfrida asked me to spend
this year discerning at home before I entered as
a postulant. But... She lifted her eyes and they
met her mother's. There was a look of uncertainty
between them; Kimberly did not wish to lose her
daughter, and Baerle knew she would miss her
bountiful and loving family. But all I want to
do is pray and be with our Lord Yahshua.
Sadness touched Lenora's heart for a moment.
Everywhere she went she saw daughters with their
mothers and was witness to both the love they
shared and the stormy battles they fought. She
would never know them but for a cross of stone
behind the nunnery where her father and she laid roses and kisses.
Perhaps, after the marriage, she would know a mother's love from Kimberly.
And there is something in here for both of you,
Kimberly announced as she turned back to the
satchel. Mary, Theresa, once you are finished
come and I'll help you put them on.
What are they? Theresa squeaked, her claws
pausing a moment as she worked a small sponge
along the back of Lenora's tail. Lenora could
smell the faint touch of vanilla in whatever soap
they used to clean the road dust from her tail.
Lace asters. Kimberly lifted what appeared to
be a purple flower with a yellow center from the
satchel. You will tie them about your ear for a
lovely color. Kimberly twirled the golden bands
of lace between her fingers to show them. Mary
and Theresa chittered their delight while Lenora
smiled; she helped her father select them. Asters
grew in abundance in the mountain hills above the
Narrows and she'd helped Nat pick some on her last visit.
So, Lenora, what news of Metamor do you bring?
Lenora was happy to talk of the affairs of the
merchant class and their families. She shared
gossip about the Hassan daughters and some of
Bryn, but with the Hassan family visiting the
southern fiefs for the last month there was
little new they had not already heard at the
Festival. She mentioned as much as she knew about
the Steward's family and the family of Kimberly's
old friend Bernadette the mouse from her days serving in the Keep's Kitchens.
Now I only heard this yesterday, so I do not
know if it is true, Lenora said after savoring
the last of the chocolate. Mary and Theresa had
finished cleaning her fur and tail and now sat
with their mother having their gifts
straightened; they each wore a single aster and
on opposite ears so they seemed a mirror of one
another. Kimberly's eyes lifted from her fingers tying the lace on Mary.
Oh? What is it?
The rumor is about Miriam; she has laid another egg.
A warm smile crossed Kimberly's face, one filled
with joy and a touch of shock. Truly? How
wonderful for them both! I know they have long
wanted another child. We will all pray this egg will give them one.
It is only rumor, Lenora cautioned, but still
she was glad the telling of it brought such joy
to the Baroness. But I'm sure you can ask when they arrive.
Kimberly nodded and smiled to Bernadette who was
stealing glances at the brooch in a mirror. The
Steward was one of the first who accepted our
invitation. When will they and the Duke's family return to Metamor?
Tomorrow if the roads are good. The day after if
they are delayed. Metamor is flush with merchants
and travelers of all sorts. Lenora was about to
say more when she heard the familiar click of
claws upon stone coming into the antechamber. All
of their eyes turned to the doorway as a handsome
black and white rat stopped beneath the transom.
Kimberly waved to her son with a chortle. Oh,
Erick, do come in. Your sisters, Lenora, and I
are just enjoying a bit of repose. Are you here for Master Julian's gift?
Erick smiled to his sisters and mother, then cast
a timorous glance at Lenora. Ah, aye, well...
welcome to the Narrows, milady. I hope... trust... you had an easy journey.
It was long but pleasant. Thank you for coming to welcome us.
Oh, well, of course, I... he stammered a moment
before turning to his mother. Master Julian's
gifts, are they? Behind his back Bernadette and
Baerle giggled under their breaths.
Kimberly kept her smile even and nodded. Lenora,
do be a dear and show Erick which gift is his.
Unhurried, Lenora strolled the few paces from one
chaise to the other, before she stood next to her
betrothed and bent down to look into the satchel.
Father had packed it carefully to keep the
various gifts safe, using little lined pockets
and boxes where he could. Erick's was in the
large velvet-lined box at the bottom. This she
lifted out, even as she tried to observe him from
the corner of her eye. But Erick stood too far behind her to glimpse.
Oh, thank you, Lenora, Erick said as he took the box.
Let me help you open it. Lenora lifted the lid,
her fingers briefly touching his; the skin was
rough from a life living in a tree, caring for
horses, and handling a sword. He did not flinch.
Inside the box rested a silver-embroidered light
blue silk hat with loops to secure it around both
ears. A single shimmering blue and green peacock
feather jutted out the back. Erick lifted it with
a blink of amusement. Well, this is... a traveler's cap for a gentleman?
And fashioned for a rat, sir, Lenora said with
a winsome smile. My father says the feather is
from Marquis Tournemire's tail.
Erick laughed, turned the hat around in his hands
a few more times, then tried to slip it on his
head. Lenora gave the box to Kimberly and said, Here, let me help.
Her betrothed's whiskers flattened against his
face, eyes widening. Oh, well, I suppose. His
sisters giggled again. He shot them a glare.
Lenora stepped behind him, careful of his tail,
and with nimble fingers secured the straps around
his large ears. She studied a small nick in his
left ear, and felt both amusement and uncertainty
at the way his ears folded against the side of
his head at her touch. Would he return from
Vysehrad with much worse battle scars? Would he even return?
There. Lenora stepped back, her legs brushing
against his tail. I think it looks very handsome on you, Sir Erick.
Lenora's right. It suits you very well, Kimberly agreed.
Erick's ears lifted, one hand raised to touch the
side of the cap. It does feel comfortable...
Oh just look, it's perfect for you! Bernadette
gestured toward the mirror in which a moment before she'd admired her brooch.
Erick turned and bent over, staring into the
mirror. He turned his head from side to side, ran
his fingers and claws along the side of the hat.
His dark eyes brightened as he admired the hat,
his whiskers trembled, and his cheeks twisted
into a rodent grin. Lenora also smiled as her
betrothed tried out different faces in the mirror
to see which worked best with the traveler's cap.
He would twitch his nose, show off his incisors,
raise and lower his ears, droop or lift his
whiskers, open his jaws in a wide smile, or shut
them tight in a lordly scowl. It was perfect for
her betrothed, just as she assured her father it would be.
This is... Erick said as he struck a
contemplative pose, one hand stroking the
underside of his jaw, this is very handsome. I
must thank Master Julian. I... I love it!
Kimberly nodded, one finger idly tapping the
purple gem at her bodice. A handsome hat for a
handsome rat. Now, Erick, you didn't come here
just to find your gift from Master Julian did you?
Uh... oh... no, no, I didn't. Erick
straightened the fur on his cheeks out with a
quick swipe of his fingers and claws and turned,
eyes settling on Lenora. He drew himself up to
his tallest, standing on the tips of his splayed
toes, and puffed his chest out, affecting an
aristocratic and dignified air. Lenora hid her
amusement. Milady Lenora, if you are not too
fatigued from your journey, perhaps you would
enjoy a tour of the Narrows. After a brief pause
he hastily added, In my company.
Now she smiled. I would enjoy a tour very much. Thank you, Sir Erick.
Erick's litter-mates giggled one more time.
----------
Erick escorted Lenora from the Keep with Clark
trailing behind trying not to knock anything over
in the cramped corridors. He murmured a few words
about the castle his family lived in, but
haltingly and with an apology or two about how
she had already seen it all mixed in. Lenora
smiled and nodded her head, eyes casting to
everything he mentioned even if she had seen it
before and offered words of approval or marvel as
befit whatever feature her betrothed noted.
When they left the castle they turned to the
northeastern corner which pointed toward the Glen
Clark rumbled his relief and stretched his arms
and back a moment before resuming his pace a
respectful but watchful dozen steps behind them.
The grounds surrounding the castle were cramped
with inn, livery, armory, smithy, and an
assortment of other necessities for a Baron to
protect his lands. The promontory on which the
Baron had chosen to build his castle was so small
everything was packed together; the inn, which
James and his wife Baerle kept, had to serve both
travelers and guests of the Matthias house.
Beyond the first line of buildings the new
village could be seen and smelt, and then a steep
slope through the first set of bailey walls. At
the bottom of the steep slope would be the
stables and homes for the many laborers come to
build the outer wall. Lenora had often thought
Keeptowne was cramped with homes built on top of
other homes in some quarters, but at least the
roads were wide enough for carriages. In this
village around the Matthias Keep the roads were
wide enough to walk paw in paw and no more.
Erick paused when they reached the northeastern
corner of the castle and ran his hand along one
of the stones and the long tendrils of green ivy
climbing them. Purple flowers glistened even
though the afternoon sun could not reach them.
Her betrothed's anxiety departed him for a moment
as his eyes fixed on the stone. Curious, Lenora
stepped closer. Is this your father's ivy?
Part of it, Erick nodded. Over the years he
has planted new seeds in many places. This one he
planted after we laid these stones. We all helped
you see. These are the cornerstones. I... I
placed this one myself. His dark eyes glimmered,
pink nose narrowed, whiskers stood straight out,
and his ears lifted high against his hat; a rat's expression of pride.
Lenora stretched her hand out, spreading her
fingers against the stone. Compared to many of
the stone blocks in the castle it was not very
large. But Erick must have been strong even as a
young rat to have lifted such a stone. She smiled
and offered a little squeak of delight. All by
yourself? You must have been very strong indeed!
Thank you for showing me, Sir Erick. Did you help build all the castle?
Nay, not all of it. The masons did most of the
work, but Father wanted us to be part of building
our home so we all visited at least once a week
to help put the freshly shaped stones in place.
You should have seen Nat, Misha, and Meredith
scampering over the stones and getting mortar all through their fur!
She laughed and shook her head. Nat's never told
me! You must tell me all about it, Sir Erick!
His ears stood taller every time she used his
title. Erick was a young rat with doubts about
his worth, but one proud of his accomplishments.
He had earned the Sir and deserved to be proud of it. Lenora loved it.
Oh, there's not much more to it. My Father could
tell you a grand tale of it, and I can retell the
ones he's told us time and time again, but I'm
not very good at making up new ones.
In time you will, Lenora assured him. So what
else of the Narrows do you wish to show me today, good knight?
Erick let his hand fall from the wall and he
glanced about, eyes casting over the tops of the
nearest buildings at the clear sky. His nose and
whiskers twitched for a moment before he
half-turned and caught her with but one eye. The
village is like any other really... is there
anything you want to see? I know you've seen most of it many times before.
Lenora gently touched him on the arm. Show me any place you love.
A smile flickered across his cheeks. Oh... then... do you mind riding?
----------
She was not dressed for sitting astride a horse
and so Erick lifted her into the saddle, both
legs draped over the same side, and then pushed
her tail over the other. Lenora remembered some
of the human ladies griping about riding
side-saddle, but with her long tail to balance
her she found it comfortable as long as the road
was not rough. Erick assured her the bay mare she
sat upon had a very agreeable disposition and
would follow his russet quarter-horse without even a tug of the reins.
Erick's manner was much more assured than in the
parlor. Riding a horse was to her father
something a well-to-do Keeper had to know how to
do. For Erick it was a joy and a part of his
being. There was no hesitation as he prepared the
saddles and halters, and every twitch of his fur
showed confidence and tenderness as he cajoled
both horses from their stalls and worked his
hands over their faces and hides. Lenora allowed
herself to simply enjoy his strength and knew she
would be safe in his care her bear protector
would follow them afoot but here in the Narrows she knew she did not need him.
Erick heaved himself into his saddle with only
his grip and the stirrup. He curled his toes
around the leather and pointed his snout out the
door. We won't go far, but... the best part
about the Narrows is the wood and mountain hills. It's not the Glen, but...
Lenora smiled. Please show me, Sir Erick.
He clicked his tongue against his incisors and
with a gentle nudge, his quarter-horse clopped
out of the stables. Her mare, as promised,
followed along at an easy gait; Lenora shifted
her arms with each step to keep her balance, and
almost giggled at the way the horse's hide rubbed
against her dangling tail. Clark lumbered behind
them, for once not quite as tall as she was.
The ground between the stables and the outwall
was hard-packed earth and stone with only a few
patches of grass not yet trampled to death. Tents
and little huts littered the grounds, home for
the feuding stonemasons and engineers while the
outwall was being built. Lenora wondered if any
of them would chose to live at the Narrows when their work was done.
Erick led them around to the northwest, hugging
the inner bailey wall as much as he could. Lenora
could see the last remnants of the shallow
depression the Narrows had been built in beyond
the completed outwall, and the line of thick
forest beyond. It all ended in the jagged
mountains with their bare-peaks and gowns of pine
and fir. The mountains she could see from
Keeptowne all showed signs of harvesting, with
swaths of forest cut down for lumber or mined for
stone. The peaks framing the Narrows were wild
and untouched, or so at least it seemed. She knew
mot of the stones making up the outwall had come
from those peaks, but the work was so careful it left no signs.
The inner bailey wall ran right into the mountain
and a tower climbed the steep rock another thirty
feet. A guardhouse was positioned along the wall
and her nose detected the scent of more horses;
her ears lifted and a moment later she heard one
whinny from somewhere within the cluster of
buildings abutting the rock. Erick led them past
the building to a narrow track against the
granite wall. She glanced up and saw roots and
branches jutting out above the lip but nothing
more. Her mare followed along the rock trail,
hooves clopping so loud half the Narrows was sure to hear.
Erick dismounted as the track wound to the
outwall tower. The door to the tower was open,
but Erick ignored it. Curious, Lenora watched him
as he placed his hand on a part of the masonry
between the tower and the mountain face; unlike
the outwall the rock was smooth as if the
mountain itself had been chiseled away around it.
She squeaked in alarm when, with a dull groan,
the stone parted to reveal a dark path illumined
but faintly by a soft silvery light.
Erick half-turned, smiling like a boy who's
caught a fish, My father built this; the
witchlight is my mother's. It's one of our escape
holes if the Narrows are ever overrun. Come,
milady, it's safe. The horses have all been through before.
He climbed back into the saddle and with another
wave, guided her into the tunnel. The walls were
rock and twisted to the left only a few paces in,
cutting off all light from outside. She glanced
behind and saw Clark enter, running a hand across
the stone as he passed, careful not to prick it
with his large claws. The clop of horse hooves
echoed in their ears, and after a moment she
heard the stone groan again; the door had closed behind them.
This is remarkable, she murmured. Her father
had told her of secret tunnels deep beneath
Metamor and after much begging showed her the
first one he had found. They had walked through
the passage whose walls, floor, and ceiling were
the color and texture of black-pearl for an hour
before turning back. She felt no fear in the
tunnel an advantage to being a rat but after
so long a time walking to see nothing new had
been unpleasant. She suspected her father had
taken her there and on such a long journey to
ensure she never sought them out again without actual need.
This was the first true tunnel she had entered
since. Unlike the black tunnel under Metamor
where she felt nothing, this one gently
comforted. The walls were the same gray granite
like most rocks in the valley, but in the walls
were little crystals which glimmered in the
witchlight's moonglow. The air, which had at
times felt stifling in Metamor's tunnel, felt
fresh and smelled of pine needles and wild
flowers. There was even a subtle warmth to the
air. How much magic is there in here? I'm warm and I smell flowers.
Erick chittered and she could see him grin; the
blue feather in his hat shimmered in the light.
My father asked the mountain and here we are.
The witchlight is the only magic this place has.
The doors only open for one of my father's blood,
so we have no fear of invaders using it.
She wondered if it would work for her once they
were wed. But for once Erick was not awkward and
she rather enjoyed it. No need to remind him now.
The cavern walls parted as Erick's horse neared
them and opened onto a forest glade with
sheltering trees along a grassy decline. Lenora
smiled as she turned her head about, drinking in
the scent of pine and maple. Erick brought his
steed a dozen paces from the cleft in the rock
and waited beneath a bough laden with pinecones;
his eyes were fixed on the south. Lenora's mare
followed and brought her to his side even as her
eyes adjusted to the faint verdant light. Clark
grunted in surprise when the rock pressed tight a moment after he stepped out.
In the Winter when the leaves have fallen you
can see the Narrows from here. If the wind blows
just right you'll catch a glimpse. Erick pointed
at the trees lining the crest of a hill before
them. Lenora nodded but could see nothing but
broad maple leaves. He looked past her and at the
bear who was checking his leggings. Are you all
right, good sir? The door didn't close on you did it?
No, Sir Erick, Clark replied with a rumbling grunt. I appear to be whole.
Lenora favored her father's loyal guard with a
warm smile. Isn't it lovely here, Clark? There's so many trees!
The bear in me is quite happy here in the
forest, milady. The man in me wouldn't mind a
good tavern and a mug of ale. The bear in me would like 'em too!
Lenora chittered her amusement, while Erick let
out a boisterous laugh. Ah, Clark, you are a
good man! I'm sure we can find a mug your size.
He grinned wide enough to show his teeth and
Lenora studied him even as she made it seem she
was looking at the trees. He'd been so awkward in
town and in the parlor. Here on his horse and in
the woods he seemed perfectly at ease.
The woods were beautiful... but with no roads or
castles in sight, Lenora felt a strange unease.
From her father's maps she knew the forest
village of Glen Avery was somewhere to the north,
the roads north to Hareford were off to the east,
and to the west were impassable mountains. There
was little fear of losing her way. But if she
were to be separated, how long would it be before
she found any of those places? What might find her instead?
Erick eased his horse onto a narrow track leading
into a patchwork of shadow, warmth, and brush
beneath the trees. There's a clearing north of
here where my sisters enjoy collecting wildflowers and berries. It's not far.
Lenora nodded and gripped the saddle with one
hand while her eyes scanned the large maple
leaves overhead. The forest was quiet but for the
grunting of horses and twittering of distant
birds. If she strained she could hear the gentle
tumbling of a stream. It was never so silent in
Metamor even in the dead hours before dawn when most slumbered.
Her eyes returned to the rat before her. He
turned his horse through the brush as if he no
longer even needed ponder what the right path
was; Lenora could see nothing to suggest one way
was any better than another. Yet Erick saw them
as clearly as she might know the twisting streets
of Keeptowne. His buildings were trees, his
streets were deer paths, and his neighbors the
hidden beasts of the wood. The forest was his
home and in its light she could see warrior,
knight, and rat in his best light; how handsome
he truly was! But would he think less of her
because she was already lost and helpless to find
her way back without him? Would he chafe when she
preferred life within stone walls and yearned for
every visit to her father in Metamor?
Lenora forced her drooping whiskers back out and
smiled. Perhaps, with the passing of years, she
would learn to love the forest even a little like
her betrothed. Her father was shrewd and rarely
misjudged a deal when it came to money or
improving the lot of Metamor. When it came to
Erick she would have to trust her father's
judgment; he did want what was best for her;
perhaps this rat truly should be her betrothed.
But...
Like Erick she said nothing as they rode on
through the woods further and further from everything she knew and loved.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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