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Metamor Keep: Gauging Loyalty
By Charles Matthias
July 14, 708 CR
To George's chagrin, Sir William led him and a
small group of soldiers back through the thick
forests west of Truskmore more quickly than he
had managed the evening before without snagging
brushes or ducking branches. They left shortly
after sunrise and were outside the walls of
Hareford by mid-morning. George was left to his
own devices until the noon hour as William met
with Nestorious and made quick arrangements for a
larger contingent of soldiers to accompany them to the Dike.
George used his time to sample the wares of the
Starven merchants. The bear pelts were thick and
soft to the touch and he knew any Keeper would
easily keep warm within them. He found several
arms and legs separated for use in lining winter
garments, while there were a few full body pelts
sure to decorate the bedspread of a noble or rich
merchant. George pondered buying some of the
smaller pelts for the winter patrols, but he
didn't have nearly enough money. In the end he
bought two arms; he'd let Misha try them with the
Long Scouts to see if it was worth buying more.
It was easier deciding to buy some of the salted
meats and fish the merchants had brought, at
least those few they were already cooking to help
draw buyers. The tang of the salt was distinctive
to the Giantdowns, cultivated as it was from the
fatty sinews of wild beasts common to the
forbidding and cold forests and the bitter tundra
fields of their land. The meat came from every
type of wild beast found there and George enjoyed
cutlets from elk, bear, and even the tangy,
almost cinnamon flavored, roast of Galumph. Each
was an easy sell and when William found him again
ready to ride, the jackal's stomach was full and
his tongue heady with every flavor.
They rode at a steady but comfortable pace toward
the Dike. The last time George had been this far
north the trails were forged beneath boughs of
elm, alder, and pine. Now a broad swath had been
opened in the forest canopy for the sapphire blue
sky. The earth was hard and dry, crunching
beneath hoof and boot, while grasses and
wildflowers thrived between the stumps remaining.
The nearest trees were marked with sashes or with
letters carved in their trunks. William, who sat
comfortably in the saddle, gestured to various
landmarks as they rode, outcroppings of granite
or clefts in a hillside where a stream cut
through, and explained his plans for each. Rocks
would provide natural fortifications for his
road; a stream would be diverted into a culvert or siphoned for irrigation.
George listened and often nodded, shifting his
tail from one horse flank to the other on their
journey. They left the cleared land after an hour
and the verdant shade of the forest cooled him.
The midsummer's warmth was muted by mountain
airs. William fell into silence, only
occasionally gesturing wordlessly at some feature
of the land. His attempts to use patrol sign were
hampered by only having two fingers on each hand,
but the jackal usually understood.
The entered the darkly forested combe after the
second hour and George felt the hackles on the
back of his neck lift. The air blowing down from
the southeastern ridge carried a sultry and
bitter tang, like loam and dead trees covered in
toadstools. He rubbed his snout several times
while they rode in silence beneath the
thousand-shade arbor of trees choking out the
sky. Green of every kind above and below; even
the remnants of a Spring stream running down the
middle of the combe was coated with algae.
The combe shallowed the further north they
traveled until at last they emerged onto a ridge
climbing up into the mountains. The trees, now
mostly pine and fir with stands of birch, thinned
as they ascended the rocky slope. Boulders of
granite thrust up through the ground and in every
hillside, forcing them to curve round or pass
single-file. George knew William was not leading
him the easiest way to the Dike, but up the more
challenging pass toward Eagle Tower. When they
reached a break in the trees and could see down
into the woods where the Dike once stood, hazy
with the last remnants of morning fog, he asked the ram about it.
Aye, I'm taking you to Eagle Tower first.
There's no better place to appreciate my plans
than there. You'll be able to see almost the
whole northern mouth of the valley from the
tower. We'll visit the site of the Dike this evening or tomorrow.
Even with this fog? George swatted at a mosquito buzzing his ear.
We'll be able to see enough. It'll be worse in
the forest. William flicked his ears to avoid
another insect. As will the mosquitoes. And black flies.
George swatted another as it landed on his snout.
He winced and wrinkled his nose and jowls. Now I
remember why I don't like coming up here. Sea of
Souls breeds these damn things and who knows what else.
They don't usually bother us at the Eagle, or so the Hareford scouts say.
George grunted but said nothing more as they
ascended the defile past the last stand of pine.
The granite blocks of the Eagle tower were hazy
and gray in the noon day sun, with the occasional
glint of color where the haze had burned off.
Behind it an uninterrupted blue sky hung over the
Giantdowns, while the last peaks of the Dragon mountains loomed to its right.
When they reached the top of the defile William
and his soldiers dismounted, walking their horses
toward the oaken doors in the southern face of
the tower. George remained atop his mount for a
minute more gazing out across the thick forest
covering what had once been the Dike. He tried to
imagine a massive wall of stone stretching from
the cliff at the tower's feet to the far east
lost in the clinging fog. The trees for hundreds
of paces in every direction would have been
cleared with bare earth and wooden fortifications
in their place, each pressed close to the stone
like suckling pigs to a sow. Deep ditches would
carve the land beyond the wall, traversed only by
heavily guarded bridges. Towers and banners would
snap in the wind, each wind a cool breeze
drifting down from snow-locked mountains on
either side. Merchant caravans would funnel
through the gatehouses on either side of the
valley mouth, and the cries of people, cattle,
and the clank of wagon wheel and iron would fill every ear.
His own heard only the groan of trees in wind,
the whistling of breeze across distant snow, the
chirping and squawking of birds seeking nests,
and the occasional buzzing of a pioneering insect
braving the heights. George whistled, tongue
pressed between his fangs, and shook his head.
Not in his life time would they see it. He
climbed down from his horse and followed the others inside the tower.
The lower floor was covered in wooden planks and
hay and broken off into stalls for their horses
on three sides. Stairs rose to the next floor in
the northeastern corner. William stood with a
hoof on the first step and waved toward the
jackal. My men will take care of your horse. Follow me.
Each landing was punctuated by a jutting wall
forcing them to enter the main chamber. They
found a few soldiers sleeping on the first
landing and another pair playing a game of dice.
The players saluted William before returning to
their game. The next landing smelled of food but
the doors to the larders were all closed. The
third and final landing before the eyrie had a
broad table in addition to four sleeping chambers
for William and the watch commanders; the sound
of snoring came from behind one door. At this the
ram stopped. He took a scroll case from his
saddlebag and drew several papers from within.
These he spread across the table and bid George come see.
Here are some of the drawings I've already made.
This one I had a copy sent to Metamor with my
request. Here you can see the wall stretching
from Eagle tower to the Barrier Range. It's half
a mile north of the Haunted Woods so we'll be
able to reinforce from the south if need be.
William drew a finger across the map and the
jackal nodded. There are signal towers along the
entire length, each one should be visible to
their neighbor in the worst fog. Twelve to
fifteen altogether; it depends on how accurate
our maps are of the eastern edge of the valley mouth.
We'll have to clear out the raiders there
first, George noted. There's a small village of
thieves and brigands there, just outside the range of the Curses.
I know. I am curious why you haven't sent enough soldiers to roust them out.
Draconia is a nuisance but with the Haunted
woods between us and them, the only approach is
from here, and any force we sent would be too
exposed on their northern flank to make it worth
the risk. Besides, without a wall, it's not
strategically important enough. Your idea makes
it important. So I suppose we'll have to do
something about it sooner rather than later.
William tapped the eagle-head mark for the tower.
We can begin work on the western flank before we
deal with the brigands. Shoring up the defenses
here will give us the rallying point we need to
mount such an offensive. Unless the Haunted Woods
are cleansed, there's no reason to rush to claim the northeast.
I agree. George glanced at the other plans and
saw detailed drawings of the signal towers with
their balustrades and cupolas to protect from the
elements and flying things, and another drawing
of a massive gate and fortress in the wall. He
tapped the latter. Is this what you want to build first?
There will have to be a gatehouse to allow
merchants and travelers through. We want to
protect the valley not blockade the Giantdowns. I
intend for the gatehouse and the fortress to be
built at the base of this mountain. Having the
fortress here allows us to cultivate the lands
along the road to Hareford and protect the stone
masons and engineers as they work to extend the
wall. Eagle tower is enough to start the work,
but a fortress provides supplies and a rally point in case of trouble.
Stepping Rock was once such a fortress for
Metamor, George noted, tilting his head to stare
at the drawing. But she's north of the valley
mouth and not much more than a glorified ruin now.
William blinked and flicked his ears against his
horns. I have not ventured so far north yet.
Perhaps someday. Either way, I have not counted it in my plans.
George tapped his snout with a claw. This
fortress is impressive, if I am judging sizes
correctly. It alone will take many years to build.
William pushed another drawing across the table
and the jackal saw a much less imposing fortress,
one with only a pair of towers and a single
curtain wall and barracks. In sooth. We will
start with this. With enough men and stone we
could build this in a year; two at most. It will
not be very strong against attack, but strong
enough to begin the larger fortifications,
especially the western edge of the wall. I'd like
to begin work on this once the road to Hareford is complete.
George barked in surprise. In Winter?
Nay, nay, the ground will be too hard for it.
But we can begin the quarries and assembling the
supplies. And we can begin tearing down what is
left of the Dike and clearing trees. But mostly
Winter is the time to prepare the men. The cold
will harden them; when the thaw comes and the
ground is ready, we'll be able to lay the first
foundations. If I've the men and the material, we
can have the fortress wall and at least one tower
if not both built before harvest.
The sound of boots climbing the stairs made the
jackal's ears turn. He shuffled some of the pages
together, glancing across each, a sense of
confidence building with each new schematic he
saw. He laid one hand atop them when the
green-mottled monitor lizard and a black-furred
dog emerged around the corner. The lizard's long,
forked tongue slipped out of his mouth and back
in again before he said, Sir Dupré, the gear and
horses have been tended. What are you orders?
We're not here to relieve anyone; but check with
Captain Becket about the duty rotation. We'll be
doing some sweeps of the Dike on hoof and paw
while we're here for the next few days.
I think Captain Becket is sleeping, the dog
replied, nodding his head to the door through
which they could still hear snoring.
William's snout spread into a caprine grin. Then
relax until he wakes! Hah! Nay, Alexander see if
you can make something to break our fast before
we ride this evening. Sebastian, join the other
scouts in the eyrie for now. I'll want both of
you with me when we head for the Dike.
The two soldiers went their separate ways. George
cast a glance at the snoring door and shook his
head. Do all your commanders snore so loudly?
Becket is a boar; he cannot help it any more
than you can keep your tail from wagging. George
grimaced and put a paw on his tail to still it.
Now, you don't need to hide my plans from my
trusted soldiers. If there are any spies here they work for the bat.
George pushed the pages across the table toward
the ram. We have had our share of traitors,
William. I do not take chances. Did you draw
these yourselves? If so your two fingers are better than my four.
William traced his thick fingers across the
intricate lines of his wall design. The initial
sketches were all mine, but to bring out these
details I've had help from the surveyors. They
have the tools and experience for this sort of
work. Sebastian is one of the best; most of these are his.
George glanced at the stairs up to the eyrie and
then whispered, How does he handle the cold? We
don't like assigning reptile Keepers to the
northern patrols because it's usually too cool for them even in Summer.
He has a talisman Nestorius crafted for him to
help. He grew up in Truskmore; this is his home.
And yours now? I can smell your wool here in
this room. George nodded to one of the middle
doors. If I'm not mistaken, you have slept many
days and nights in yonder room.
Aye, I have. I would be a poor commander if I
did not learn all there is to know about the
defenses at my disposal. And you only learn them
by spending time serving them.
George tilted his head to one side. Your scent
is stronger here than at Hareford.
The ram's snout tightened. Narrowed eyes regarded
the jackal for a few seconds before he spoke
again, quiet and firm. I have no doubt you know
Nestorius and I had a falling out a few months
back. We have begun rebuilding our friendship and
now I am spending more time at Hareford again
when I am not about seeing to my plans. Surely
you have heard all of this already.
Hearing and seeing are different. You do not like these questions, do you?
William did not raise his voice nor soften his
tone. Metamor has every right to gauge my
loyalty. Duke Thomas would be a fool not to have
his doubts. But you, George, should know better.
What are you here for, to study these plans or to study me?
The jackal tilted his head further, tail wagging
once. To study the plans for the most part. But
I am also going to provide my thoughts on how you
are performing as commander of Hareford's
military. As you say, Duke Thomas would be a fool not to do so.
Then let us waste no more time. William slipped
another parchment across the table and tapped one
thick finger atop it. Here, this fortress plans
shows what the interior could look like,
including how we'll store water and food.
George huffed and smiled as he cast his eyes down.
----------
Emerald light cascaded through the treetops upon
William, George, and the sextet of soldiers
accompanying them. The ground was soft beneath
his hooves, mostly loam and pine needles with
only the occasional bramble or twig to avoid. The
tracks of animals, men, and those in between
littered the grounds near the Dike ruins,
disappearing only where the ancient stone thrust
through the clinging roots and garlands of ivy
and moss. Dig but a few hands anywhere and they
would find the tombs of those ancient stones interred by the passing of ages.
William chewed on cud as he led the jackal onto a
broad avenue of stone and tree roots stretching
beneath the summer boughs for thirty paces. Like
the grass he'd begun eating, he'd at first been
uncertain how he truly felt about having to chew
his food, swallow, and then chew it again when it
came back up. The taste was not as unpleasant as
he once feared, and after seven months he'd found
certain spices and grains which kept a savory
flavor every time it touched his tongue.
It also meant he had an excuse to keep silent when he did not wish to speak.
George followed, eyes, ears, and nose turned in
all directions as they reached the ruins of the
Dike. The jackal had said almost nothing since
they left Eagle tower, for which William offered
him grudging respect. George knew how to behave on Metamor's frontier.
And George had been eager to learn more of his
plans, but the jackal could not help but continue
to ask questions or make observations about
William. Each left the ram wondering just what
anyone in Metamor thought of him. He did not
expect to be trusted right away, but he resented
the dance this old mercenary kept trying to play.
Surely the bat knew everything there was to know
about William's habits and surely he'd shared
some details already. George's questions and
observations were too pointed to be otherwise.
But to be out at the Dike, to feel the ancient
stone beneath his hooves, and to smell the
moldering granite was balm for these wounds. Here
he trod when Suielman soldiers had once served a
thousand years past, defending for centuries the
greatest empire man had ever built. Here he
walked in the footprints of legends.
And their hoof, paw, and boots stamped the
beginning of new legends into the ancient stone.
They made their way through the woods beneath the
watchful eye of the Eagle, afternoon sun having
finally burned off the fog rolling down from the
north, and after an hour reached the Dike and the
site of one of the last standing sentinels in the
west. The stacked stones were covered in ivy,
with bushes and pine trees growing out of every
crack. Needles carpeted the stone and swaths of
loam. Wildflowers rippled through the underbrush
where the sun shone through, little blue and
purple blossoms bobbing up and down in a
northerly breeze like gentle ocean surf. Swarms
of black flies danced around them, dispersed by
waving arms and swatting tails, only to reform and redouble their efforts.
William and George walked only a few paces apart,
while the other six soldiers surrounded them ten
to fifteen paces away. But once William stepped
toward the sentinel, beckoning George to stand at
his side, they each closed to five paces, eyes
and ears fixed upon the surrounding wood. They
moved their hands from their weapons only to brush away the mosquitoes.
William set one hand upon a bare spot of the
ancient stone and swallowed his cud. How often have you come this far north?
More often in my first years at Metamor, George
admitted. He stared up at the stacked blocks of
stone. The highest was more than twice their
height. The few trees growing from the top
stretched dozens more hands into the canopy. I
was here a few more times after Winter Assault;
it took a lot of time clearing out the last
straggling bands of Lutins who'd attacked. Once
we were confidant the Hareford garrison and other
northern defenses were restored I haven't had a reason to return until now.
The jackal's snout spread in a canine grin, fangs
visible beneath his nose. I must say I am glad
you gave me a reason. It's good to stretch my
legs here in the hinterlands again. A fly landed
on his nose and he brushed it off. I don't miss
these pests. A few of the soldiers chuckled under their breaths.
Sebastian, William bleated in a low voice.
Show the Patrol Master our plans for this site.
The monitor approached, long, forked tongue
slipping in and out of his mouth as he rifled
through his satchel. After a moment's search he
withdrew a parchment stretched on a thin wooden
board and offered it to the jackal. Sebastian's
dark eyes fixed upon the many lines already
etched upon the page. William stood at George's
side so they could study the plans together.
The page showed four drawings, one in each
quarter. William pointed to the upper left
corner. You can see this is what this area looks
like now. Here's the old sentinel stones we're
standing next to. Here's the trees circling
around. Off to this side in the distance is Eagle
Tower. This direction is north into the Giantdowns.
I see it, very well done. Sebastian, you are quite the artist.
Sebastian bobbed his head and wrapped his long
fingers around one another. Thank you, Sir. The
ideas come from Sir William, I just draw them.
So what do we have here?
William gestured at the other three pictures.
These are the first stages in what we want to
do. Here we'll be clearing out the trees. You see
the sentinel here by itself. Then we'll use the
wood we've harvested to erect barricades and a
small watchtower. Once done, we'll have some
defenses while we tear down the sentinel and clear the tumbled stones.
And ditches?
William nodded and pointed to lines near where
the trees remained. There's too much stone
foundation to have ditches where we stand, but
we'll have small ones out at the northern edge to start.
George nodded, taking a few seconds to study the
diagrams before glancing up at the massive
stacked stone sentinel at their side and the
forest surrounding them. The morning's gentle
breeze was now a steady wind rattling the
branches and knocking loose pine needles. The
jackal grimaced as he brushed a needle from the fur between his ears.
Wind's from the north and the air is moist. We
might have a storm coming tonight or tomorrow.
Sebastian nodded, rubbing his hand along the back
of his long, arched neck. We usually do, but it
shouldn't be until dawn. Wind's not strong enough
yet. We'll know its coming when the flies go.
Do you still want to stay out here? William asked.
George shrugged I've been rained on before. And
my fur could use a good soaking. So, aye, let's
stay here tonight and tomorrow. If the storm is
bad enough, I'd rather wait it out in Eagle Tower anyway.
In sooth.
George tapped the drawings with one claw and then
gestured at the forest and sentinel. How long do
you expect this to take? And how many men do you need?
William took a step away from the sentinel and
pointed at the nearest trees. With all the stone
beneath the ground the trees are thinner here
than the rest of the forest. Clearing them out to
thirty paces in every direction will take two or
three weeks with a dozen men. Half if we can
spare two dozen and if we do it during Autumn
when the weather is at its best. It'll take
another few weeks to put together all the
defenses, assuming the wood is of good quality.
The watchtower will require the engineers to
help, but my soldiers are competent enough to do the rest.
George's expression and voice grew solemn.
Before you begin, there is one thing to know. A
lot of Legionnaires died defending the old wall. Some of them are still here.
The ram nodded. Any we find will be treated with
care and respect. Graves of honor will be given them next to our dead.
George licked his nose and offered a faint smile.
And remember, the engineers have to return to
Metamor by Harvest; there is a lot of other work the Valley needs.
So you have said. I hope to convince you
otherwise and I hope you convince Duke Thomas
otherwise. The sooner we can begin the better.
I thought you said you hoped only for thorough
plans to be drawn up for your wall?
For the wall, aye, but these are tasks we must
do regardless. It makes little sense to wait
until next year to begin. The plans I mentioned
are for the quarries, manpower, supply lines,
soldiers to protect them all, and funds to pay
for it. Those we must spend months in planning.
This is paltry and can be done before the first ink is spilled.
George shook his head, barked a laugh and leaned
against the sentinel, wagging tail making a long
strand of ivy bounce against the rock. Just how
many of these plans do you think you can
accomplish before the winter buries you behind Hareford's walls?
William took a few more steps away from the
sentinel, the monitor lizard at his side and
still carrying the schematics. He kept his head
turned so one eye could see the schematics and
the other George. The road to Eagle tower and
the watchtowers are my first priority. With those
same men we could easily clear the woods here and
begin the fortifications. Unless Winter comes
early. I am told it can snow in October.
And September, but only once during my time, and
it was gone by the afternoon.
Then barring an early Winter, we can accomplish
everything I have said. If anything is to be left
undone this year, then let it be tearing down those rocks.
George glanced at the rocks, and then up at the
sky between the trees. The afternoon blue had
become a leaden gray with clouds from the north.
So long as you can keep the engineers until
Winter. Who will man the defenses in the cold
winter months? Without a proper fort, even those
fortifications will avail you nothing. They'll be
overrun in a Lutin's breath. Even drunk Lutins
could take them. You'd be wasting your time building them even in the Autumn.
William ground his teeth together, but made a
show of turning to study the plans. Sebastian
flicked out his tongue with a grimace suggesting
he agreed with the jackal. And, the ram had to
admit, there was a very real chance he was right.
Quite possibly. We'd need a constant rotation of
soldiers here, far more than we should need to
defend this place. But with the road in place we
are not so vulnerable. It will be far easier to
move troops in and out. The defenses are only to
protect this area while we begin work on the
fortress I showed you a few hours ago.
George crossed his arms as he leaned against the
sentinel. So why not build it after the Spring
thaw when there is a chance we might be able to
spare the men and resources to begin building the
fortress? Otherwise you're sending squad after
squad to defend a blight of land with nothing
worth defending in the worst of winter stinging
their cheeks with ice and enemy arrows.
William rubbed his lips with one hand. Perhaps
you are right; it does seem a waste. But, he
turned toward the jackal and now crossed his
arms, we can still build the fortifications. The
plans call for them to be built with the wood we
cull from these trees, but they don't need to
remain here. We can build them in pieces and keep
them in Hareford. Then when Spring comes we can
cart them here and erect them in a day or two. We
could begin work on the fortress in May instead
of June or July. But only if I have engineers; to
make fortifications we can assemble and
disassemble... it is not an easy thing.
The jackal snorted, and for a moment it seemed
he'd tip his head back and laugh even louder, but
then remembered where he was. Same old William
Dupré. Even when I do find a flaw in your plan
you turn it around into another reason to do what
you want. Again, I won't promise you the men, but
I will explain your reasons to Duke Thomas.
William kept back the bleat of pleasure. Thank
you. Now, let us turn to the plans for the first
fortress. I want to build it near this very
spot. As he spoke Sebastian returned the first
set of plans to his knapsack and began rummaging
about for the next set of drawings. George ran
his hand down the side of the stone sentinel and
nodded, before lifting his ears and eyes. William
followed the jackal's gaze and saw a long-legged
white bird with black-tipped wings descending into the canopy of trees.
The stork beat his wings several times before
settling on the sentinel. It was Walpole, one of
Hareford's messenger birds; he'd even delivered a
few messages for the ram. The bird bowed his head
toward William and cawed with his long beak. Sir
William. I have a message for Patrol Master George.
Down here, George called, waving up to the bird
who had managed to land above him, before
slapping at another fly. The bird spread his
wings backward and peered down the edge of the
stone, eyes and beak widening in delight. He
jumped down, landed beside the jackal, and
swelled in size as he assumed a more human-like shape.
The stork brushed his feathers down and then
leaned in closer to the jackal's ear. William
knew the poor fellow was trying to whisper but
some voices were simply not suited to it. He
uttered only two words, String carrion.
The impact of those two oddly paired words was
immediate. George's ears and tail fell, his
shoulders tensed, his eyes cast about furtively,
and his jaw slackened, nose swelling to sniff at
the air. He didn't even try to dislodge a pair of
flies upon his brow. Had he been human, William
would have thought his face turned white.
George composed himself after a few seconds,
though the swagger of the mercenary was gone.
There was determination in his voice, a
determination covering over all else. I
apologize for dragging you out here, William. I
must return to Metamor at once. With all haste.
No questions. Return to Hareford, and if you are smart, stay there.
William did not hesitate. Everyone, fall back to
Eagle Tower. We're riding for Hareford as soon as
we return. Walpole, fly on ahead and tell them to
have our horses ready for a hard ride. The stork
nodded, shrank back down to normal bird size and launched himself into the air.
George said nothing the entire way back. From the
north the sky began to rumble.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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