Part 3
Metamor Keep: Faithful Battles
By Charles Matthias
I thought I might find you here, Father.
Felsah flicked his whiskers but stirred neither
head nor ears toward the chameleon. Rather he
drew his narrow, sharp-clawed fingers across the
ancient runes inscribed upon the slab of stone
resting in the middle of the floor in the main
storeroom for the Follower Cathedral. His dark
eyes were filled with the blue-metal lettering
both fresh and ancient to his fingers and the
message they conveyed in more languages than any could speak.
The visit to the Convent had taken longer than
he'd suspected. They'd hurried back to the
Cathedral in time for the midday prayers and
taken a small meal together. While Patric and
Richard were still eating, Felsah had slipped
away for a precious few minutes to himself. After
having one of his special dreams there was no other place he could go.
Am I so predictable in my habits?
Deacon Patric sauntered to the opposite side of
the slab, one eye fixed on the jerboa, the other
on the covenant stone. If you are not in prayer
before the Tabernacle and not in your cell then you are here. Usually.
How long have you been looking for me?
Not long, Father. Patric folded his
long-fingered hands one atop the other over the
slab as he reclined against one side, long tail
bracing him. You did want to hear Confessions after Sext.
Felsah's ears rose. Are there penitents waiting?
None I saw. I asked Richard to find us should any arrive.
Good. He leaned forward over the stone, awash
in awe and uncertainty. He almost trembled as he
touched the slab. Do you believe this to be a message from Eli?
The chameleon cracked his jaw and shifted his
head forward in what Felsah had come to know was
a reptilian smile. I do. He anticipated the
next question and without pausing added, There
are so many reasons to believe it, Father. It was
written by the same hand in many different
languages, and all of them stating the same
promise. It speaks of a people of Feather and
Scale which can only mean those of us who were
made reptiles or birds here at Metamor. It speaks
of a people who were faithful unto death. You
said as much of the Tened! And when I read this
message I feel as if Yahshua Himself were
speaking from the Yew straight to me. I can hear
it in His voice, Father. I can hear His love. I
even hear love in it for those who sought our
betrayal and who posed as gods in defiance of
Him. Father, of course I believe it and I wish
you would let me share this with the rest of the
Fellowship. I know they would embrace it and all come to the Yew.
Do you think I am too hesitant because I wish to
wait for the judgment of Yesulam?
Patric lowered both of his eyes and traced
fingers across the letters as delicately and with
as much reverence as Felsah had seen other
priests treat the Canticles. I know you don't
want to make a mistake with something this
momentous. But I also believe you believe this to
be from Eli. You recognized Jacob and his family
as Tened; nobody else did, Father, only you. I
know you believe this to be true.
Did I not pass on what I received to Father
Akaleth and through him to the Grand Questioner
and the Patriarch? Will not this testimony weigh
heavily in favor of this divine message? Even
with a rodent's face and mannerisms, the mask was
natural to him and he offered none of the
amusement he felt at the earnest reptile's
consternation. Instead he bent down and scratched
behind his left ear with his foot.
Aye, Father, you did. And I hope it does make a
difference. But I want to share this with the
Fellowship! It will give the Followers among them
renewed fortitude and it may even bring some of
the Lothanasi to the truth. Already all who have
seen Jacob and his family know deep in their
hearts there is something different about them in
a way even Metamor's Curses cannot explain. All
of this is ordained by Eli and we must be
shouting it from the rooftops not hiding it under
a basket. As he spoke, Patric's voice grew
louder and his eyes more animated as they
swiveled back and forth. Even his tail thumped
from side to side in his agitation. Felsah felt a
mouse's anxiety flutter in his heart but his training held it back.
How are Jacob and his family? Have Rebecca's
eggs hatched? Is Davin still covered in downy
feathers or has he begun to fledge?
Patric visibly slumped at the diversion, and he
lifted one arm, fingers curling in the air as if
to suggest distance. Their eggs are still eggs
and Rebecca is even more protective of them than
she was when they arrived. She almost took poor
Tabitha's head off when she tried to turn one
Tabitha is one of the caretakers of the eggs we
keep in our hall, you remember her, the Steward's
cousin. An image of a lizard with a frilled neck
sprung to mind, but the flash was brief. Davin
is still covered in downy feathers and probably
will be for a few years more. Jacob is doing his
best to find work as a tinker, and one of the
Fellowship has offered him space in Keeptowne to
work out of his shop for now. But...
Felsah blinked as he listened and offered a faint
smile, a slight widening of his eyes, turning of
his jowls and lifting of his whiskers. Patric
caught the glance and continued. They have all
changed... they visited the Standing Stone north
of Metamor; it is an ancient Tened relic and it
has survived all the elements and conquests in
the valley these many centuries. I did not see
what happened, but after their return they are
different. Davin is unable to understand our
tongue and only speaks in fluting cries, almost
birdsong, along with some screeches and hisses
only Jacob and Rebecca understand. Emily says he
is speaking as a Tened would. Rebecca speaks of
ancient wisdom and custom as if the distant past
were but yesterday and there is something
unsettling in her eyes when she sees humans...
contempt I think, but it's despite herself. And
Jacob cannot seem to count aright anymore... he
uses strange words for many numbers, and when he
says 'ten' he does not mean it as we know it, but
as sixteen! Emily tells me it is how the Tened
reckoned numbers. They have become, as far as I
can tell, more as the ancient Tened were, more
Tened, than they are human. It is as if their
very natures and minds and wills have been remade.
Felsah could feel Patric's uneasiness and he
shared it. Was this Troud's doing? How he wished
he could see the ancient Tened guardian again and
speak with him another dream night to better know
the twists and turns of Eli's acts. But even he
likely would not understand the grand design
their creator had weaved. He twitched his
whiskers and rested a paw on the vibrant blue
letters at the top of the slab; the curious
scratches were the language of the Tened, the one
race of the many Eli filled the world with who had remained faithful to Him.
How much time have you spent with them?
I visit as often as I can. I would see them more
often but Father Hough does not want me only
ministering to the Fellowship, and I understand
why... and I agree with him. We are all Yahshua's
children, children of the Yew, no matter if we
are human still, or covered in scale, feather, or fur.
Felsah nodded and let his smile widen. Very true
and yet, if this message were more widely known,
how might those who grew fur see it? Would they
not wonder why they are not offered this
protection? Would not envy strike their hearts?
Do we not teach of Yahshua who makes no
distinction between man and women or of any race in His call to follow Him?
Patric thumped his tail and leaned forward along
the slab, longing eyes unable to leave the
letters. Aye, I suppose. He makes no distinction
in His call, but He does not offer us all the
same gifts in the same measure. This is no
different. And perhaps there will be another such
covenant offered for those like you, Father
who have grown fur instead of feathers or scales.
Perhaps even a better one. I don't know. I just
know this is real and this is a beautiful message
it pains me not to be able to deliver to my kind.
I... The chameleon stopped, lifted both his eyes
and struck his chest with fingers curled as close
to a fist as their length would allow. I did it again, Father, forgive me.
Be gentle. What did you do?
I said 'my kind'. I fell into what too many of
the Fellowship believe. I know we were both men
before Metamor's Curses reshaped us. Yet, after
so many years as a chameleon I find how mammals
act sometimes confuses me, and I know how I act
must confuse you! It is so easy to think of
ourselves as different in kind and not just in
appearance. I know it is wrong and I'm sorry.
Do you then see why prudence demands we be
patient and learn all we can before we teach this
message? Were we not told to test any spirit who
speaks to ensure they speak true?
Patric let out a long breath before lowering his
gaze. Aye, Father. I suppose you are right. I
just... it is hard to explain how much hope this
gives me. I wish you knew what we of the Fellowship know.
Do you wish I had become a lizard or bird?
Well, I had not thought of it, I guess, Father,
when you first arrived. Knowing you better now I
suppose I would be gladdened had you been, but...
it is hard to think of you as anything but a jerboa.
Not even a fennec fox?
Patric swiveled one eye to the Questioner and his
voice sounded bemused. Maybe. You and your
questions are clever like one. And... wait,
Father, have you done nothing but ask me questions since I arrived?
Does it upset you if I have?
Father!
Was not Yahshua asking questions when Mother Yanlin found Him in the Temple?
Well, aye, but He also taught in parables and in
direct commands. What is wrong with giving answers every now and again?
Felsah nodded and he let the mask drop so his
smile filled his entire snout. Ah, Patric,
forgive me. I am a Questioner and asking
questions comes naturally to me. But for now I
will give you answers as you seek.
The jerboa leaned forward and delicately traced
the ancient Tened runes with his claws. His tail
tuft danced behind him as he pulled his hopping
legs beneath him and gave a light kick to the
Questioner robe to keep from stepping on its hem.
He lifted his ears as a sign offering this young
chameleon all of his attention. I do believe
this slab is real and a covenant offered from
Eli. Yet it was offered in such a mysterious way
it leaves me unsettled. I want to understand a
little better and I want to submit my judgment to
wise counsel first before I proclaim it. Although
you may not understand, as I do not, but the
reason I spend so much time here is because I am
connected to it as well. It calls me and I feel
as if I am a guard standing watch over a gate, a
gate I hold open for those called to go in, even
if I am not. This may not be a covenant made for
Keepers like yourself and the Fellowship. It may
be a covenant made with the reborn Tened and for
their spiritual steward Troud. There are so many
reasons to believe it to be true, but so many
more reasons to be patient and learn more. And
perhaps, as is the way with Eli, He will reveal
His intentions for us as His witnesses through
mysterious interventions and interlopers!
Patric seemed to relax at the answer. I do wish
you could have been like me, Father. I know there
are some who have found ways to take other shapes
for a time. Perhaps there is a way which is not sin to do so.
Perhaps, but there is danger on the path you suggest, Deacon.
I know, and forgive me for thinking it. My heart ran away with my head.
Forgiven. Yahshua became a man for many reasons,
one being we would not be afraid of Him as He
became one of our kind. Not all of us can be
reptiles or birds, and even those who have, are
still the same kind as we who remain mammals.
Perhaps part of the reason I am as I am, even
though I feel a call toward your Fellowship, is
because of the mistake even you have fallen prey
to. Even if not, it is worth contemplating in prayer.
Aye, I suppose it could be, Patric took a deep
breath and then both his eyes fixed upon the
slab. Still, this also calls me. This is from
Eli, Father, and we cannot keep it hidden here forever.
And we won't. I'm sure eventually one of those
involved in bringing it here will let slip a
careless word and rumor will begin to spread.
Hopefully we will hear from Yesulam first. We...
He stopped and lifted his ears and then his head
toward the doorway from the storeroom.
Patric followed his gaze and a moment later
Richard scampered into the room with a look of
mild exasperation. Felsah drew the canvas
covering the slab back across the blue letters
and Patric pulled the edge taught. The mouse knew
of the slab, but Felsah heard the sound of a pair
of cloven hooves not far behind him.
Forgive me, Father, but Patrol Sergeant Wolfram is here to see you.
The black ram? Felsah flicked his whiskers in
surprise. He had not seen Wolfram or his company
since his friend Father Akaleth had left two
months ago. Of course I will see him. Richard,
let him know while I finish here.
The mouse bowed his head and scampered back out,
almost falling to all fours in his haste.
I suppose I should tend to my duties then,
Patric offered. He cast one last glance at the
slab, and trailed his fingers and claws across
the canvas as he stood. With your permission, I
would like to see how this Elsie daughter of
Lidaman is doing and whether the Sisters have
been able to help; I will try to return by None, but...
Tend to the sick, Deacon. Felsah smiled as he
hopped toward the door. And pray with us as you work.
----------
The hoof-falls he'd heard from the storeroom had
not been as close as he'd imagined. Sounds near
the altar echoed better in the Cathedral and it
was this he had heard. Felsah found the
black-wool ram kneeling before the altar, still
dressed in his patrol-gear of blue tabard with
issuant horse atop chain mail. Two months ago his
right horn had been smoothed down almost to the
skull; it had regrown into a respectable nub but
it might never again match its brother on the left.
Behind him the kharrakhaz also knelt, the three
horns of his massive head pointing toward the
tabernacle atop the altar. His mottled green and
brown hide were drab compared to Patric's bright
green, so the first color his eyes saw on him was
also the blue tabard of the patrol. Neither man
was armed with weapon or shield but the jerboa
still felt a momentary urge to hide against a
wall and hop in the other direction. Every Keeper was so large next to him!
Felsah did not don the Questioner mask, but he
did marshal his instincts, reminding himself of
the way Zachary had protected him on his first
day in Metamor, and how Wolfram's entire patrol
had stood guard outside the Cathedral during
Father Akaleth's visit. Both had stood between
Akaleth and Misha Brightleaf an offense the fox
later atoned for with several charitable repairs
around the Cathedral despite knowing if it came
to a fight they would lose. These were good men
and no little mouse like he was in danger from them.
He hopped across the distance and twitched his
whiskers and jowls into a mouse's smile. He said
nothing, casting his gaze after a moment toward
the altar, tabernacle, baldacchino and
surmounting Yew, heart and thoughts drawn upwards
with each step. Yahshua, guide us. Help me bear these burdens.
Father, Wolfram whispered after making the sign of the Yew.
Sergeant, Felsah replied. He gestured with the
wave of a paw toward the front of the Cathedral.
Ram nodded, stood, and rested a two-fingered hand
on Zachary's shoulder. The reptile opened his
eyes, creased his beak in what smile his face
could offer, and lumbered to his heavy feet.
Together they walked as quiet as they could with claws and hooves and girth.
When they reached the front, Felsah guided them
through a wide arched door on the northern wall
and up a set of steps. The Schola practiced there
in the evenings and sometimes during the day when
they could. The members were all tradesmen,
merchants, and soldiers at the Keep and so the
evening was often the only time they could
assemble. This made the room a perfect place
within the Cathedral to carry on a quiet
conversation without disturbing the faithful come to pray.
The main part of the room was filled with a trio
of wooden platforms each higher than the one in
front of it. Atop this Wolfram lounged, sitting
upon the middle plank and propping his hooves on
the first. Zachary eyed the wood for a moment
before settling on the stone before the
platforms. His thick tail ground against the
stone wall behind him and Felsah could see some
of the paint chip. Felsah waited until both were
seated before straddling the middle platform,
neither leg reaching the supports beneath it.
I am very grateful to see you both again. I
think the last time we had a chance to talk this is where we were, Sergeant.
Wolfram glanced around for a moment and blinked.
I think you're right, Father. I'm sorry it has
been two months, but we of the patrol do not have
many choices when we're needed. Zachary and I
come to Liturgy as often as we can.
We've been attending in Lorland, Father,
Zachary put in before the jerboa could ask.
Excellent. I have been meaning to travel there
and see how Father Purvis is managing. The last
time he had seen the priest assigned to Lorland
had been even longer ago, not long after both of
them had succumbed to the Curses of Metamor.
Whereas Felsah had shrunk, Purvis had grown into
the bulky shape of a hippopotamus. He bore it
well and with good humor, even if none of his
clothes could even fit half of him anymore.
He seems to be a good man, Wolfram said. Often
confused about how things have been done in
Metamor since the Curses, but he's trying. Always
has a smile, though if you've seen his teeth, it's a weird one!
Felsah realized he'd taken his chewstick and
started gnawing. He gave his sore incisors a few
more seconds before putting the stick down. Have
the people of Lorland made him a complete set of vestments yet?
Not complete, no, but enough until Advent season
starts. I'm sure before Autumn is done they'll have the rest made for him.
Zachary cracked his gray beak in a reptilian
grin. He does take advantage of his new
strength, Father. Last week he and I lifted the
frame for a new home all by ourselves!
Wolfram nodded, On a dare, even! I knew you
could do it, but I didn't know Purvis would try it too! Hah!
Felsah lifted the stick again, but before putting
it to his incisors asked, So he's helping build homes in Lorland?
Aye, Wolfram replied. The ram scratched at the
wool around the growing nub of horn. The
farmlands there are rich and doing much better
than they ever did under Loriod, or so they all
said. While Metamor was under quarantine, most of
the refugees from Bradanes settled in Lorland.
They have the land but not the homes. Felsah
nodded as he listened, remembering the many
rag-covered folk seeking a place to stay while
they waited for the Curses to cure them. It tore
his heart to see so many reduced to such
desperation, but the hope in their voices, and
the confidence and bravery they had to accept
whatever change would come had healed the tear.
So now Father Purvis has organized the newcomers
from Bradanes, almost all of whom are Followers,
into teams to help build new homes. The native
folks who remember Loriod were still not sure
whose lands were whose so they are making room
for them as best they can. There have been
fights, but not many, or so we were told.
Felsah lowered his chewstick and offered the pair
a pleased squeak. I am delighted to hear of
this. Thank you. I hope I can see these new homes
for myself sometime soon. And so your patrol has returned to Metamor now?
For a short rest, aye, Wolfram said, briefly
casting his gaze toward the walls as if expecting
to see something there. Or rather beyond them.
Then we're off to Mycransburg for a month to
help patrol there. It's what being in the Patrol
is about; you never stay home for long, Father.
But it is good work and I love it. I get to make
new homes and friends everywhere in the valley.
This will be our first time in Mycransburg and I'm looking forward to it...
There was a sudden hesitancy in his voice and
Felsah noted a glance toward the kharrakhaz
sitting on the floor in front of them. But something is amiss?
Not for me, but... Wolfram gestured toward his
friend, but the reptile remained silent, his beak
grinding shut. Zachary, it is you who insisted
we come see a priest this morning.
Felsah shifted on his haunches, lifting both his
ears to their full height. Zachary?
Zachary heaved a long sigh ruffling their fur.
Eyes narrowed, he reached a hand to his head and
rubbed at the base of his left horn as if it
pained him. His beak cracked, and his voice,
rumbled across his tongue. Something has
unsettled me, Father. I could not pray my beads
this morning. Foreign thoughts, strange fears,
kept intruding and distracting me. And not the
normal distractions, Father. Those I can pray
through. These... I have not been thwarted like
this since before our waters were poisoned. I fear something evil comes.
Felsah had never met Zachary before the curses of
Metamor transformed him into a massive
mottled-brown and green reptile with three horns
and a wide frill crowning his head. It was easy
to forget at one time he had been as a leper
covered in rags to hide the disfigurement done to
all the people of Bradanes. But he had seen many
of them in the Spring on their arrival, the last
of a desolate band hanging on the twisted healing
wrought by tangled magic, and felt an involuntary
shudder race down his spine and tail.
He stilled the mouse inside him and turned to his
potent tool. What sort of thoughts and fears?
Are these the same you faced back in Bradanes?
Zachary shook his head, closed his eyes, and
murmured as best his transformed body allowed
him. They are not the same, Father. In Bradanes
I remember fearing for my family. I didn't see
anything happen to them, but I just had a dread
every time I picked up my beads, a terrible dread
they were in trouble. And myself, Father. A few
days later the sores started appearing. What
happened this morning was different. I kept hearing voices.
Voices? Did you recognize them? What did they say?
It was a language I did not know. I would not
have thought it a language if I were not of
Metamor now. It seemed the growling of wild
beasts to me, yet I could hear in them the
suggestions of terrible things. I cannot remember
them now, but I felt their threat. Against my
friends most of all. And I even thought I heard
laughter in their voices. It kept me from
praying, Father. I could not even find the words
to the Pater Noster. Something evil is coming, Father.
Felsah took a deep breath and flicked his tail
from side to side. He'd gnawed a good chunk from
his stick while the three-horn spoke. He had seen
many strange and terrifying things in just the
last two years. Three years ago he would have
been skeptical of Zachary's claims. Now...
Have you any idea what these voices breaking
your prayers might mean? Do you know what might be coming?
No, Father, Zachary admitted, with what seemed
like frustration. Wolfram grimaced, clearly also
disturbed by what he heard and by his inability
to help the soldier under his command. I hoped
you might know something, and perhaps help stop it.
Felsah shook his head. I am sorry, my son. But I
know no better than you what these voices might
mean. I will offer Liturgy for you and your men,
Sergeant, and I will bless your weapons and your
shields before you leave for Mycransburg. If
these fears are of the spirit then it will be
mighty protection indeed. At the very least, I
can help armor your souls against whatever evil is coming.
Zachary's eyes regained their former confidence
with his offer. Thank you, Father. Aye, I will
laugh back at them if they come again!
Felsah turned to the ram and offered a slight nod
of his head. I will bless the weapons and armor
of your entire command, Sergeant Wolfram, if they
will permit me. I know they are not Followers;
please extend my offer to them out of love for yourself and for Zachary.
I will let them know, Father. Thank you.
Wolfram took a deep breath, shifted in his seat,
then put his hooves down and pushed himself up.
We'll be back before Vespers, Father, even if it just us.
Zachary grunted as he also stood. We will wait
for you at the front of the Sanctuary, Father. We
would not bring our weapons inside.
Felsah flicked his tail as hopped to his feet. I
know you won't, Zachary. Now, I want you to tell
me if you continue to have these distractions
during your prayers. And if you wish to pray with
me in the morning, you are both welcome to do so.
At least as long as you are here in Metamor.
This offer considerably brightened the reptile's
demeanor as his gray beak cracked in a wide grin.
Felsah could even see the rows of teeth along
either cheek inside. Thank you, Father. I will come. If I am permitted.
Wolfram patted Zachary on the upper arm, as high
as he could reach. Of course you can. We are
resting this week. If it helps you, then you
should come. I might too, but I doubt I'll get the chance, Father.
Felsah nodded, even as he gestured toward the
door back into the Sanctuary. I understand. Is
there anything else I can do for you good men?
Nay, Father, you have done what we hoped and
more, Wolfram replied. Are you hearing Confessions today?
Aye, it is what I was going to start when you arrived.
Then you'll have your first two penitents in a
moment, Father! Felsah flicked his whiskers into
a pleased smile as the ram erupted into a boisterous laugh.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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