Parlay - Part VII

y the time that Charles and Kimberly emerged from their home to join the rest of the Glenners in the celebrations, things were already boisterous. Laughing and singing echoed along the tall trunks of the trees framing the clearing, the playful jig the musicians crafted rising with it. The two rats danced for a short while, but Kimberly’s back began to complain, and so she sat down soon after.

Charles brought her several of the pastries, and for a time they both sat watching the games and sport, as well as the dancers and revellers. The baked goods were sweet and soft, of a quality that would have made Gregor the baker of Metamor proud to call his own. Kimberly would often remark at how lovely certain couples dancing looked together, while her husband would nod and smile, especially when she spoke of his fellow Long Scouts.

Many had paired up in the time that Charles had joined their company. A year ago, he had not even known most of them. He’d known Misha Brightleaf more by reputation, though they had occasionally crossed paths before being sent to Glen Avery last Spring on a mission together. Even then Misha had been considering the rat for a place in the Long Scouts. Their mission against Baron Calephas had simply been a test, and he’d passed. He smiled a bit as he sat there, one arm around Kimberly’s shoulder, as he thought about the day that the fox had first invited him into their organization.

The four of them, Misha, Caroline, Kimberly and Charles, had been out on a picnic by the riverside in the fields around Euper. While Caroline and Kimberly had gone off to the river, the exact reason for that the rat had forgotten, the fox had asked him what he knew about the Long Scouts. He’d not known much, but he was soon to learn a great deal. He remembered being uncertain, honoured but uncertain at the time. His smile only grew. Was he ever glad that he did.

Kimberly snuggled up closer to him as they sat there. He leaned his head over her own, and took in a breath of her scent. It was muddied by the wild and varied scents that filled the Glen, from the others there, to the burning braziers, to the sweet pies and cakes, to the soft earthy smell of the trees and ground about them. But Charles could still smell the particular odour that was his wife’s. He savoured it.

The only thing that he regretted about being a Long Scout was that it took him so often away from Kimberly. Back when he’d simply been the Headmaster of the Writer’s Guild that seemed like an age ago to him now though he’d often been very busy, he still was able to see her regularly. Even though they were married now, he still had duties that would take him away from Kimberly for days at a time. Shortly after they had been wed, Misha had needed him for a mission to the North that had kept them apart for nearly a month. The whole time he had been fighting with his friends, he fought not so much to stay alive, but so that he might sooner win his way back to her.

It had also made the move to Glen Avery less real for him. Charles had been living in their new home less than a week before Misha had come calling. The rat had not come to accept the Glen as his home until after he’d returned from that venture. Even still, despite the warmth and friendliness he felt at every turn, it was not the same as Metamor Keep itself. Both bore their own magic, their own mysteries waiting to be explored.

In another three months, his exile would be over and he could once more return. He wished to do so, and yet at the same time, he did not want to lose what he had found at the Glen either. The conundrum had been clawing at the back of his mind nearly the entire morning, at least sometime after Kimberly had returned from visiting with Lady Avery. He could not very well live at both Metamor and the Glen. And no matter which he chose, he would be disappointing friends and family.

There was a taste of something unpleasant in his mouth as he watched the Glenners and the Longs continue about their fun. So many he considered close were moving about him gaily. Did they too know the decision that loomed only three months hence for the rat and his family? Did even Kimberly realise what might happen when his forced exile from Metamor came to an end? He never spoke of the subject, as it filled him with far more anger than he liked. But nevertheless, his punishment would not be too much longer in lasting.

Yet, his moment of melancholy could not last forever amidst such a spirit of festivity. As he was ruminating, his eyes caught a sight that brought an immediate smile to his muzzle and twitch to his whiskers. Somebody had set up a small wooden booth with Lutin shaped cut-outs at the far end. A pair of throwing knives were set out at the front of the booth. After a moment, he saw that it was Angus who had set up the booth, and he stood at its side inviting anyone to demonstrate their skill with a knife for but a single copper.

Finbar had been dancing nearby with Danielle, and naturally was the first to try. He paid his copper, and tested the knives in his paws for several moments first as Danielle smiled whimsically watching her musteline companion. Angus however moved to the back of the booth and began to rotate a metal crank that Charles had not seen before. The cutouts of the Lutins began move back and forth, and even duck down behind a wooden railing, all of their own accord. This caught quite a few more people by surprise, not the least of which was Finbar himself.

Nevertheless, Finbar made his mark with both knives, slaying the wooden Lutins with quick strikes that landed in their necks. Charles rose to his feet so he could better see now that more and more were clustering around the booth. Kimberly did not rise, but continued to clasp his paw in her own. After Finbar proved his skill, several other Glenners came and also paid the badger a copper. While none of them were nearly as skilled as the musteline, they nevertheless accounted themselves well, usually hitting at least one of the Lutins. One poor chap did have his knife bounce off the wood, but he was not dispirited in the least, as he paid at least three more coppers trying to kill the Lutins.

It did not take long before Misha himself discovered the small booth that Angus had made. The fox played once, scored two hits, and then spent quite a bit of time talking with Angus about how he had put the gears together to make the Lutins move as they did. Not only did the warrior badger have a talent for sculpting wood, but he was also mechanically inclined, something neither Misha nor Charles had known before. The rat smiled as he pondered what other talents the Glen’s premier swordsman might also possess in reserve.

He started when he felt a sharp claw poking him in the side. He turned and saw Kimberly’s dark eyes staring into his. Her tan ears tilted back, the pink insides showing clearly in the daylight. “Aren’t you going to go and test your skill?” Her tone was amused, probably at the contraption that Angus had built.

Charles stared at it a moment, and then back to his wife and smiled, nodding. “Certainly. Do you want to get closer so you can see better?”

Her smile emboldened him. “I would love to.”

Climbing to his feet, the rat offered his wife one paw. “May I assist you, milady?” he asked, cutting a knightly bow.

“I would be honoured, gentle lord!” she clasped his paw gingerly, as if she were far more dainty than she appeared. He smiled and took her other paw, and with a firm pull, brought her to her feet. Even so, there was an air of grace about her movements, despite the pregnancy.

They smiled to each other, and walked paw in paw towards the booth that was drawing a crowd. It took them several minutes to reach the wooden contraption, but her back did not bother her. Misha was still talking with the badger when they finally made it to the front.

“Ah, Charles, going to see if any of those lessons I gave you have paid off?” the fox joked. At that, Angus laughed a load rumbling burr.

Charles smiled to his friends and nodded. “I’ll try not to break anything, Angus,” he said, even as he fished out a copper piece from his coin purse at his side. It jingled only slightly, as he saw no reason to carry much around with him anymore. One nice thing about the Glen was that nothing was as expensive as in Metamor.

The badger took the coin and deposited it into a small trunk, where it clanked against numerous brethren. “You break anything it’ll be two coppers!”

“Don’t worry, Angus,” Misha said, still smiling mischievously. “Charles hasn’t broken anything in at least a week!”

“Two weeks,” the rat reminded him, winking as he hefted one dagger in his paw. The weight was well balanced, though it was a little large for his small frame. Nevertheless, he was confidant that he could control it with ease.

They all shared a quick laugh, and then Angus went back to cranking his display, the Lutins popping up and down at the far end. Charles watched for a moment, noting the pattern. They would both be up for a single moment, and then they’d flip back down and out of sight. Whatever gears he’d used to make them move from side to side appeared to be timed differently from the rest, so he was never quite sure where to expect them to appear again.

Deciding that it was merely a game, he threw his knife. It landed in the shoulder of the Lutin on the left with a solid thunk. “Good shot,” Misha exclaimed, giving him a pat on the back. He smiled, and the readied his second knife. With a flick of his wrist, Charles sent the knife spinning through the air to land in the other Lutin’s leg. Angus stopped turning the crank and removed both daggers from his display. It was already full of holes, and would naturally have to be replaced if he ever wished to present it again.

“Congratulations to you, Charles,” Angus said, laying the daggers back on the front end of his booth. “You have felled the evil Lutins!”

Charles smiled broadly, and then over towards Kimberly who clung to his arm anew, her face beaming pride. He turned and planted a kiss upon her nose, and she laughed, whiskers twitching. “I thought you did an excellent job,” she said afterwards.

“Thank you,” he said, feeling good about his shots. “I am not as good with knives as I would like though.”

Misha patted him on the back once more. “We’ll get you better at it yet.” The fox’s one good ear turned forward then, his grey eyes seeing Charles in a different light. There was an air of remembrance about them. “Oh yes!” He turned to Kimberly and bowed his head low. “Dear sweet lady, I do apologize for I must drag your husband away for a short time.”

“What is this?” the rat asked.

Misha glanced up at him and smiled his playful grin once again. “We need to figure out what sort of dance we’ll try. You and I are the most capable in our taur forms after all.”

Charles nodded then and laughed, hugging Kimberly close. “Do you mind if I help our friend here?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. You two have fun. I’ll go find Baerle.”

The two rats kissed once again, and then Charles followed after Misha as the fox led him to a more secluded portion of the Glen so that they might figure out the dance.

It was already midafternoon, but the Marquis’s guardsmen waited to escort him from Breckaris. Both Zagrosek and Agathe had gone ahead of him to the North and were waiting for him by the city gates. There was only one more thing for him to do before leaving, and that was to bid his farewells to his host, the Earl Schanalein.

The Earl for his part had kept his son and wife away from the Marquis that day as well. When he’d been told that the Marquis was leaving, he’d become quite distraught in fact. “Isn’t there anything I can do for you, Monseigneur?” The man practically begged while they were standing in the porte-cochere.

The riders were coming up along the terrazzo, though were still out of earshot. “These only. You will assist Bishop Hockmann in whatever campaigns he elects to conduct. You will spend this evening with Gutreth so that she might provide you with another heir, as you will now harbour suspicions about Kurt’s true loyalties. And you will remember of these last few days only that you had a good friend visit. That is all. Now go inside, and do as I ask.”

Nearly stumbling over his own feet, the Earl bowed his head and did as he was instructed. Smiling to himself, the Marquis waited for his horse to arrive that he might leave Breckaris. There was still much to do after all.

There was a hush of excitement about the Glen as evening approached. Trepidation filled the men, while amongst the women giggles could be frequently heard as pairs would crouch low and hold their paws before their muzzles. The central space for the clearing was slowly emptied out, and the musicians assembled, while a fox from Metamor spoke with them quietly.

As the brands were lit one by one, the feeling only intensified. Eyes followed Misha Brightleaf as he went to and fro preparing the assemblage for what was to come. All of them remembered well the wager that had been made before the traditional hunt. And now the time would come for when that wager would be paid in full. The time had come for the men of the Glen to dance with him. And they would all dance as taurs, a form that the fox favoured, and one that few knew aside from his and the rat Matthias.

Not all of them men would dance of course. Many could not even attain the taur form, though few amongst them regretted their inability. And amongst those that could, many had let slip that they wished they had not, for they had committed themselves to the dance. There were some who looked forward to the opportunity to try out that strange new form, some hoping to impress the women by it, others merely for its own sake. But most would take a long time yet before they gained any comfort in it, if ever.

Once all of the brands were lit and the Glen shone with torchlight, Misha cupped his paws before his muzzle and called out, “Make ready for the dance!” Most were already watching him, but now their gazes were rapt. Charles could see the familiar mischievous twitch to the fox’s muzzle as he continued. “All those who will participate please ready yourselves!”

He then turned about and made his way into the trees so that he could have some privacy. Charles gave Kimberly one final kiss, and then left to do the same. He smiled as he saw a number of Glenners also depart, as well as most of the male Long Scouts. When he made it well past the clearing into the trees, he knew that there were other men nearby, but it was dim enough that he would feel no shame in removing his trousers. After disrobing, Charles closed his eyes and let that wash of water glide along his form. That strange weightiness filled him once more, and suddenly he felt quite a bit larger.

When he opened his eyes again on ly a few moments later, he smiled as he saw how much more of him there was. Folding his trousers up in his paws, he laid them across his shoulder as he trotted back into the clearing. Misha was returning at about the same time. Garigan and a few other Glenners who had taken to the form easily also came back. Surprisingly, Angus was not yet back, as he’d had no difficulty in changing the first time.

They congregated in the centre where the rest of them had vacated for the dance. Charles and Misha could not help but smile to each other, as they were the only ones who knew how the dance would go, or at least how it was supposed to go. The musicians waited, a few plucking at their instruments in eager desire to play. Charles felt his own excitement build, and he smiled to his wife, waving once from his higher vantage point. She smiled and waved back, giggling a bit as she saw him in his heavier form.

As he scanned the crowd for other familiar faces, he briefly caught the gaze of Rickkter. The raccoon had suffered much the same fate he had that morning after their little drinking contest. For once though, the Kankoran was not staring at him contemptuously. All that was there was merest amusement. Misha had once told him of Rickkter’s reluctance to become a taur. In that moment, he felt a new sense of pride in that he could assume that form, and Rickkter did not.

“Are you ready?” he heard Misha ask. Turning his head he nodded to his friend.

“Quite ready. Are you?”

“Yes!” Misha said in exuberant delight, rubbing his paws together, even as his whole body tensed, all nine hundred pounds of it. The other taurs standing there with him either laughed and nodded, or were quite nervous. They were soon joined by others, the field beginning to get crowded. The fox surveyed them all with prideful eyes, but said only, “Another few minutes and we shall begin.”

“Wonderful,” said Angus as he trundled up to the group. He did not appear to be as large as Charles remembered him being form the day before, but he could have just been imagining things. “This dance had best be easy, or I’m going to crush somebody.”

Misha laughed brightly then. “Oh we’re all going to crush somebody tonight!”

The badger’s face became even more grumpy, but there was the barest hint of a smile at the corner’s of his muzzle. Charles and Misha had done their best to keep the dance relatively simple to begin with so that all would gain some familiarity with their forms before they did anything elaborate. Even so, he knew that most of the dance would be spent tumbling and getting back up again.

Most of those who tried to change managed to return successfully. A few heard the musicians start up, and simply remained upon two legs, watching with the rest. Misha was taping one paw to the music, a pleasant jig with a slow measured beat. Even so, the music seemed to promise a faster tempo, as if it were the anger of the Sondeckis, building and building upon itself until explosion was inevitable.

“Those of you short line up beside Matt. The rest of you with me,” Misha said, even as he and the rat moved so that one was in front of the other, although several feet separated them so that Charles would not have his tail stepped on by the fox.

Everyone watched quietly as the taurs followed Misha’s instructions. Garigan was at Charles’s left, with Finbar to his right. He found it especially amusing since for once he was on eye level with them both. If they stood up on their hind legs he would be completely dwarfed, but as long as they were on four paws, he could look them in the eye at long last.

Misha spoke a few quick instructions, and both lines began to move their paws in as close to unison as possible. First the right forepaw would step forward, and then back, the left hind paw moving back as well. They repeated this with the other side several times, their hands resting akimbo at their sides. The pace of the music matched their simple steps, and after a few moments, they all began to feel comfortable coordinating that many legs.

And it was at that point that Misha and Charles changed things slightly. At a single word, instead of just taking one step forward and one step back, they two and a half, the half being an aborted step, one that caught many off guard. Somebody near the end of the line managed to trip, but he was caught by his neighbours in time to keep from falling to the ground. There was some laughter at this, but it was restrained. There was much more still to come after all!

The next move that was introduced was a step to either side, and this confounded quite a few more. Lord Avery himself, his body even more sinuous than before, his long tail curling all the way behind him so that it was taller than his head, managed to stumble and take about three or four steps to the side, bumping into Garigan. The ferret also stumbled, and knocked into Charles, who managed to right himself in time before he collapsed against Finbar. This drew out quite a few more laughs. Lady Avery herself, standing at the edge of the spectators favoured her husband with arched eyes and a tight mirthful grin.

And he was not alone in tumbling over, as behind him, Charles could see several others falling and tripping over their four feet. Berchem, and Angus both did, the badger taking down three others in the process. Even Charles and Misha could not restrain some laughter at this. But soon they were all back upon their feet once more and practising the steps.

Back and forth, side to side, they moved tentatively at first, but with increasing confidence. The music continued at a stately trot, the musicians each hiding smiles upon their faces as they watched their fellow Glenners do something they had never imagined possible. And each of the dancers felt within them a growing confidence at moving upon four feet instead of just two. Soon they stepped with the music, bouncing from paw to paw, the moves feeling a dance and not just a step. Their bodies swayed with the rhythm, their weight shifting back and forth. Their tails flitted from side to side as they moved, though not all in unison. Somebody started to clap, and soon all of the taurs were doing it, clapping to the beat as they stepped, looking more and more like dancers.

Misha waved his hands to either side of him, and all the dancer’s began to spread out. They had all gained enough confidence to do that without tripping, although the beat of the music had for the moment been lost. It was quickly picked up again as each of them began to practice turning from side to side. Some of their bodies were so flexible that they could practically turn themselves into a circle, like the ferret’s Garigan and Finbar, as well as the other mustelines who had joined them in the dance.

Charles could not help but smile as he moved, his paws touching the firm earth beneath him in so many interesting ways. There was something visceral about it, even more striking than when he spent time just as a rat. He knew that in this form he was exposed, but he was not alone in the dance, and so it did not matter anymore. And now, when he turned and twisted about, he was only making it more obvious to all. But he kept on clapping, and kept on moving, feeling the music give him the beat, his motions fluid and graceful. He smiled to those around him, catching the eye of James the donkey whose hooves clopped softly along. James appeared to be blushing a bit, but nevertheless enjoying himself.

And then a sudden uproar of laughter made the rat snap his head around just in time to see Berchem the skunk landing on the back of Misha, who let out a sudden yelp and toppled under the added weight. Even the dancers stopped, the musicians slowing down to view the spectacle of the foxtaur draped in the skunk’s tail. The archer was quick to pull himself off Misha, and brush himself off, his own smile tight. Misha’s grey eyes glanced up, glaring, but in a friendly manner, and soon the two joined in the laughter. Charles shook his head, while they both got back up. The musicians started again, and the dance was on!

The turns soon became full fledged circling about. And they were not just turning themselves around, but moving around each other. Charles and Garigan held out one paw to each other, and circled each other, their gait at first stately with the music, but soon, they picked it up to double-time, cantering along like a pair of horses, still holding their paws together. Most of them were not so successful however, as quite a few groups spun out of control and nearly crashed into the rest of the Glenners watching.

But they went even one better. They paused for a moment so that Lord Avery could put his paw to theirs, and then all three of them cantered about each other in a circle. The world about them spun, torches swinging past, merely streaks of bright orange light. The sea of faces swam, a great cavalcade of joy and mirth set against the darkness of the evening forest. And through it all, only they remained steady, their eyes locked and firm as they moved, smiles wide as they moved.

Charles knew that if they attempted four they would no longer be able to touch paw to paw. Already they had to lean inwards to reach each other, and so, after a few moments they broke off and slipped back into the line. Most of the others also did so, though quite a few managed to get themselves dizzy and fall over. The laughter was still pleasant, and the humour amongst the dancers good. Each of them were learning the moves they would need, and soon, they would be able to dance in earnest.

The last thing that Misha was inclined to have them all practice was rearing on their hind legs. Quite a few of them seemed reluctant to do this, but the binding of a bet was not something any would break, not especially after Lord Avery gleefully rose up upon his hind paws, waving that middle set in the air. A hushed giggling began to race amongst the women as they watched the men bear themselves uninhibited by clothing or anything but fur.

Naturally, the shifting of weight led to quite a few mishaps. Angus, over balanced and toppled to the ground several times before he managed to wave his thick bruising paws in the air. Charles himself had a little difficulty, as aside from the brief attempts at the rearing he’d had with Misha a few hours before, he’d never tried it. He backed up and forward several times, landing back on all fours repeatedly until he managed to get his long tail curled around his feet, counterbalancing his upper torso properly. He could see Kimberly giggling behind her paw with Baerle. His eyes even caught Rickkter briefly in the crowd. The raccoon was looking back at him, smiling in amusement, but also some sense of approval.

This took the rat by surprise so that he lost the beat of the music and toppled over and into Garigan, who was strangely enough, completely steady, his sinuous body firm like one of the tall trees that stood all around the Glen. With the ferret’s help, Charles once more found his paws, as well as the beat of the music again. He caught the mirthful glance of Misha, who seemed to have no difficulty rearing up on his hind paws. The fox let out a loud barking laugh, even as he clapped his paws together in time with the music.

And then, the dance began in earnest. Misha barked out a few quick instructions, and everyone formed into a circle staring inwards. They began to dance from side to side in time with the music, the jig floating jauntily along the air. Even their tails swayed in time, flicking from side to side like a pendulum in a clock. Charles lifted his paws to either side, as did those next to him, now James the donkey and Berchem the skunk. They simply touched their to provide each other balance, and continued to step from side to side, and then on the downbeat, one half step forward and back.

Charles could not help but smile as he felt the music fill each of their bodies anew. The pace was set, and soon each of them began to feel themselves moving more freely and fluidly, as if they had been born to the taur form. It no longer felt strange to Charles to touch the ground with four paws and still have his hands, and he could sense that it was much the same amongst all the Glenners and Longs dancing with him.

Suddenly, Misha lurched forward and into the circle, running counterclockwise about it in a brisk double-time trot. Everyone else maintained the circle, none of them yet breaking ranks. Misha made one complete circuit just running, his paws silently loping along the ground, his body exuding a sense of power that was not often seen within men. When he passed by Charles the second time though, he reached out with one paw and quickly tapped the rat on the shoulder. At that, Charles also jumped into the circle and kept up the pace behind Misha, both James and Berchem closing towards each other to fill the gap he’d left behind.

Misha continued to run, with the rat close behind him. After Charles went around twice, he gave a quick tap on the shoulder to his student Garigan, who was also quick to jump from the circle to join them. And so it went, running about, their bodies filling with the pleasure of motion, more and more adding to their train, until after several minutes, the circle had shrunk so tight that the last to be tapped, a young ermine, was doing his best not to be run over by the exuberant foxtaur.

Misha made a circling motion with his paws to those who had not yet been tapped. It took a few moments though before they all understood what he meant, but soon they too were running about in a circle, but going clockwise around, leaving two rings of taurs moving against one another.

Very quickly Misha and Charles began to hold out their paws, and give a swift but gentle pat on each taur’s lower back as they passed. Within moments, they were all doing this, and the musicians even shifted their tempo slightly so that the pats would fall on each beat. There was a delighted whistle from the onlookers, and soon, a boisterous applause erupted that nearly drowned out the music!

None amongst them could hold back the grins of pride that leapt to their muzzles. Charles himself offered nods of approval to all he passed and patted, and they did likewise. Even James, whom he passed, had his ears erect in delight, dark brown eyes filled with accomplishment, a sight that made Charles smile even wider. In his heart, he could not recall a time with friends more pleasant than this.

But they would all wear themselves out when the dance had just begun if they continued to run. And at another signal from Misha, the circles began to spread out and each runner slow down their pace until they were stepping in time with the music. Misha turned inwards then, and Charles followed alongside of him holding one paw to each other to pace themselves. The rest followed in this manner, forming two lines one against each other. Just before they were about to run into some of the Glenners just watching, Misha and Charles both reared up on their hind paws, and then dropped back down, stomping each paw in turn. This delighted those before them who laughed and smiled anew.

Misha and Charles then turned to either side to make a stately prance back towards the end of the line. The next in line did the same, doing their best to stay with the music as the rat and fox had done. Though they could not see what happened, they could hear when somebody stumbled, the exclamations and the laughter too familiar not to understand.

Once Charles and Misha reached the end of the line, they turned towards each other but stood in place, dancing with their paws, making small steps forward and back, and from side to side as they had done before. The fox was clapping with the music, and so Charles did the same. The two grinned at each other, eyes bright with pleasure. Though the fox was at least several feet taller than the rat, both felt as if the same size in that moment.

Garigan and Berchem came to stand next to them and continue to dance, their own grins signs of pleasure. Charles thought it a pleasure to see the skunk smile so, for he rarely ever saw the archer display any delight at all. Perhaps the taur form was more infectious than he had expected, some great new body that gave such freedom of movement, such power and richness in sensation that none could not enjoy it. The rat laughed to himself then, and decided that perhaps it was just the chance to dance so before all that had delighted him. Either way, he would enjoy both with equal abandon.

And then at the nod of the fox, both Charles and Misha reared on their hind legs and pressed their forepaws together, keeping themselves aloft. Their hind paws shifted about in the ground as the two mismatched creatures tried to find the proper balance, but they managed it nevertheless. Two by two, the dancers reared, going on down the line that had formed, creating a tunnel of sorts between them. It was not a steady or even tunnel, but a tunnel nonetheless. Misha raised his voice as he looked at the onlookers. “Come and dance through us!” he shouted, to much uncertain laughter.

But a few brave souls seemed inclined to dance beneath them. Lady Avery herself set the example by sweeping out and skipping with her head ducked under their legs, with many of the shorter women following along behind. The taller Glenners and Keepers did not dare pass beneath them, but many were short enough that they had no difficulty. The musicians played even more vigorously then, as if they had to spur the two footed dancers on so that they could clear the tunnel before a taur collapsed and fell on them.

Yet not a one of them lost their balance then, keeping that tunnel as steady as they could, their hind muscles beginning to ache as they propped each other up. Charles watched as they moved on underneath them. Even his Lady Kimberly and Baerle danced along underside. When Kimberly finally passed beneath him and back out into the open air again, she brushed one of her paws along the shin of his foreleg, brushing the fur in such a velvety manner that he nearly fell back on himself. Her spritely laughter only made him smile wider, ears lift up, and whiskers stand on end.

It took quite some time before all who would dance between them were able to get through the tunnel. A few even seemed to want to make the journey again, but one of the taurs near the head of the line growled at them in no uncertain way, dissuading them. Once the last of them had passed through the tunnel, they each returned to all ours, two by two again, leaving Charles and Misha the last to drop back to the ground.

Both Charles and Misha turned to the side once more, and began to circle back around the lines in their stately trot. The rest followed suit, letting the two most familiar with their taur form lead them along, those lines becoming two snakes twisting and moving around each other. And then, they attempted something quite remarkable. Misha and Charles headed towards the same point from different directions. But they timed it just so that Misha passed it first, and before the next taur following Misha could pass by, Charles went through.

And for several moments the weaving was perfect, with the taurs moving right past each other without missing a beat. But then Lord Avery came through, his tail held out just a bit too far behind him, and the next taur to pass accidentally stepped on it, yanking the squirrel from all of his paws to crash undignified upon the ground. At this, everyone laughed in delight, even Lady Avery who gave her husband a sympathetic smile. The Lord of the Glen however, rose back up, and resumed the dance, only pausing one moment to brush his tail off.

They wove in and out of each other several more times until at last they managed to do two in a row perfectly. All of them held their tails high to prevent accidents. All of them moved without fear, comfortable as a taur. With each new step, with each dancer that moved between them without mishap, they all gained new confidence. They were in those moments not just dancers, but taur dancers. The very first of their kind in the world, and it was indeed something to celebrate.

And so it went on into the night. The music playing boisterously, the onlookers laughing in delight, and the dancers dancing as if there were no tomorrow. Smiles and cheers rose from them as they moved four paws along the ground, this way and that, in and out and all about. Before that night’s end, not a one of them cared that they wore nothing but a shirt. They simply enjoyed the boundlessness of the Equinox celebration. It was a celebration of life, and they felt a greater than full measure of it as they danced; a measure they would take with themselves for many days yet to come. Because each knew that no matter what, the dance would go on!

The road was dark, the morning sun had not yet risen. Yet already, they broke camp to continue on their way. They’d had little sleep, guards ever watchful, feeling the disquiet in the air, but savouring it too. The central carriage was decorative, bearing the crest of the unicorn in the field. Within it remained the Marquis du Tournemire. But he had slept little too. Through one of the windows he watched, waiting for the journey to continue.

Both Agathe and Zagrosek had taken fast horses to make their trip. There was much still to be done, and even he, the Marquis, had a part to play. He smiled slightly to himself as his eyes trailed past the men repackaging the provisions and readying the horses to the western stars, glimmering in the open sky. It would be some time before he returned to Marzac, to his native warm southerly clime. But he did not mind. There were several tasks still to be done, and he alone was capable of doing them.

He closed his eyes and rubbed them for a moment. They were going to have to travel fast. There was a great deal of distance that had to be covered still. If he had not needed to travel to the Midlands, he would have taken a ship around Sathmore. But once he reached the North, his must be a journey conducted in secret. Not even his three mages must know he had been there. There to that castle that haunted his dreams, and filled his waking thoughts. That one place that could bring him victory or defeat.

None would know he had ever been in Metamor.

The morning after the taur dance came late. All we tired, but the celebrations had comet o an end, and their labours must begin anew. Charles lay in bed, the sweet scent of his wife next to him. His eyes remained shut, enjoying the warmth of his home, his bed, and most of all his wife. Still in his mind the dancing of the taurs continued, each moment replaying within him, the feelings so intoxicating, he wished it could have gone on forever.

Beside him, he was dimly aware of Kimberly stirring. He smiled and wrapped an arm about her shoulder. Together, they snuggled closer. Her belly was pressed to his, and he was dimly aware of movement within. His smile grew wider. His children, moving about, nearing the time of their birth indeed. It would still be another month at least, but it was coming.

He felt a headiness as if from wine as he lay there. He’d had nothing to drink the night before, at least nothing much. Certainly not enough to merit having to swallow the foul concoction that Lady Avery had devised for him. But he didn’t mind just then. This was a drunkenness of another sort. This was the drunkenness of the taur dance still filling his mind.

Charles stroked his paws along Lady Kimberly’s neck. He could hear her let out a pleased churr at that, even as she snuggled a bit closer. He could not help but remember when she had touched his foreleg during the dance, the jolting thrill that it had brought him. And with it, brought to mind all the pleasure he had possessed when in that form.

Almost without realising it, he brought that picture to mind, the form of the rat-taur. He was dimly aware of the shifting of the sheet, the creak of the bed as more weight filled it. And then he knew that he’d once more become a taur. Charles sighed pleasantly, wrapping his forelegs around Kimberly’s own legs, pulling her close to all of him that he could. His long tail curled up under the covers around behind her, keeping her safe and warm with him that morning.

And together, Charles and Kimberly lay in their embrace for many a sweet hour.