It was still cold throughout Metamor, and so Vinsah had made his way first down to the heated baths. He did not take one himself, but merely enjoyed the warmth from the steam rising from the water. A few Keepers were washing themselves up, but they paid little heed to the priestly raccoon that was sitting against one wall, tail curled up into his lap to keep it from getting damp.
After an hour or two enjoying the warmth, and talking with a few of the other Keepers who happened to come in and sit for a bit, Vinsah began his trek out into the town itself. The street lamps had been extinguished by then, as the sun was gazing down at them from over the mountains to the East. The streets had been swept clean of snow, mounds piled against the walls of rebuilt buildings. A few Keepers would load what they could into carts to haul it to the Killing Fields, or to cisterns in the Keep to make more fresh drinking water.
Vinsah could hear the sound of a hammer up ahead, and the delicious scent of bread. Letting his nose and ears lead him, he quickly moved through the chill morning air until he found himself before a small house, tendrils of smoke rising form the chimney at the back. A vaguely familiar tabby was perched upon the roof hammering wooden shingles into place. The priest chuckled as he watched the tabby’s tail twitch back and forth behind him as he worked. It appeared that all the walls of the building were rebuilt, and only the last of the roof remained to be completed.
“Hello up there,” Vinsah called as he came to stand a short distance away.
The tabby looked over his shoulder, whiskers twitching curiously. “Hello there,” the cat returned. “May I help you?” One paw gripped a wooden bar that spanned the top of the roof.
“I was wondering if I might help you,” Vinsah offered with a warm smile. “That is dangerous work you are doing.”
Smiling, the tabby flexed his claws, demonstrating to the Bishop that they could use some trimming. “Not for me!”
“Nevertheless,” Vinsah said, admiring the youth’s self-confidence, “I would like to be of some help to you.”
The tabby looked at him for a moment, and then his smile became grateful instead of simply amused. “Okay, climb on up. You can hold the shingles in place for me.”
Vinsah did not see an immediate way of reaching the roof, so assumed that the tabby just jumped up. It had been a long time since he had thought himself limber enough to attempt such a feat, but he did it anyhow. His claws caught on the shingles, and with a mighty heave, he lifted himself up onto the roof, his legs curling beneath him as he rested upon the firm shingles.
“My name is Brennar by the way,” the tabby held out his free paw in greeting.
Vinsah took it and smiled. “I’m Vinsah. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brennar.” Of course, Vinsah now recalled that he’d met this tabby before, when he’d taken his stroll about the keep as the visitor from Jetta. He did not remember much about the feline or his master though.
Brennar smiled as well, revealing several long fangs. “And it is a pleasure to meet you, Vinsah.” His eyes then trailed down over the raccoon’s garments, and they grew wider when they saw the priestly images upon the tunic. “Not Bishop Vinsah, the Patriarch’s aide?”
“The same,” he replied, his voice tightening at the mention of his former master. Yet, he knew that his lady would console him and assure him that Akabaieth had found a greater peace than he could have ever known.
Brennar leaned over the side of the shingles and poked his head through the open part of the roof. “Master Gregor, Bishop Vinsah is here! He was the Patriarch’s aide!”
The raccoon priest heard the a sudden bustling in the room’s beneath him. A moment later, he saw a large rodent step out of the door and peer up at them both on the roof. His eyes were wide with a strange sort of admiration. He gave a short bow and then smiled up to the priest. “It is an honour to have you here, Bishop. But why are you on my roof?” Gregor asked, his expression puzzled.
“He’s offered to help finish it,” Brennar put in happily.
Gregor smiled then. “Thank you, Bishop. That will mean a great deal to me. It must have been the greatest of joys to serve alongside of a man such as the Patriarch.”
Vinsah felt his ears blush a bit, and his own chest beat with the agony of his loss. “I never knew a better man than he, Master Gregor. The world is diminished without him.”
“That it is! And you are following in his footsteps, Bishop?”
“I am trying.”
“Good! Let me bring out some of my bread for you.”
Vinsah held out one paw. “That is not necessary.”
Gregor stomped one foot then. “Nonsense! You are helping fix my roof. It’s only proper that I should repay you.” And the capybara then disappeared back inside the Bakery.
Brennar waved to him with one paw. “You look a lot younger than I thought you’d be, Bishop. If you don’t mind me saying so that is.”
“I am. The Keep made me this young again somehow. I do not understand it any better than that.” Vinsah climbed a bit closer to the tabby on the roof. The shingles were just thin pieces of wood about half a foot thick. Long crossbeams lined the roof, so they had plenty of purchase to nail them down. Some of the nails were actual metal, but most were wooden pegs.
“Here, I’ve got better balance than you,” Brennar stepped over onto the beams, and held out a piece of wood. “Just lay this down right here.” Vinsah held the shingle where the tabby had pointed. Taking a peg, the cat placed it over the top of the shingle, and began to hammer down. With each stroke, Vinsah felt his arms shake and his teeth rattle.
After they fitted the second shingle in place, Gregor returned out the door with a small basket with steam rising from it. “Here is some bread for you two. I just took it out of the oven, so be careful.”
Brennar leaned down and took the basket in his paws and passed it up to the Bishop. Vinsah examined it for a moment, before resting the basket on the rooftop where it wouldn’t fall. The scent from inside was moist and made his stomach churn in anticipation. “It smells wonderful, Master Gregor.”
“It ought to. Cooked in my own oven again. ‘Tis nice to have an oven to cook in once more. Those filthy Lutins destroyed my last one,” Gregor complained in grumbling tones.
Vinsah reached into the basket and drew out a small pastry. A sugary cream had been spread over the top of the roll. He bit a small chunk off and chewed it quickly. It was very hot, and his tongue did not like that! But the taste was so smooth he barely cared about the heat. “These are delicious, Master Gregor! You are a very good Baker indeed!”
Gregor gave a short bow again at that, smiling ever so slightly. “Thank you, Bishop. It is good to have one such as yourself approve of my trade. I only wish that I could have had the Patriarch within my store to try some.”
“Did you not get a chance to see him?”
The capybara nodded. “When he spoke before all the Keepers. But that was all.”
“So you are not Followers?” Vinsah guessed. He had not seen either of these two in the Chapel for services either. And he vaguely recalled that he’d asked this before.
Gregor shook his head. “I was born a Lothanasi and I shall die one as well.”
The tabby chuckled. “Master Gregor leads prayers services at the Temple every now and again.”
“As often as I can. ‘Tis a privilege that the Lothanansa Raven hin’Elric allows me to do. I am grateful for it.”
Vinsah felt strangely ashamed, but asked, “So why show so much honour to myself, leader in the Ecclesia?”
Gregor blinked and stared up at him hard. “Were you not there at the Patriarch’s speech, Bishop? If we are to ever know peace, we must honour each other.”
The raccoon nodded and smiled. “And he was right. Sometimes I feel I am still learning that lesson.”
“I am as well,” Gregor sighed then and crossed his arms. “You are a good man, Bishop Vinsah. The Patriarch chose well in making you his aide. We Lothanasi need men like you and the Patriarch to keep us focussed on what is important. I wager the Patildor do to.”
“Yes, we do,” Vinsah said, smiling amicably to the rodent.
Gregor returned it, though it was still rather repressed. Vinsah gathered that the Baker was not a man accustomed to expressing approval of others. “Well, I must return to my oven, and I will leave you to the roof. Thank you once ore for offering to help finish it.”
“It will be my pleasure, Master Gregor.”
The capybara gave him a firm acknowledgement and then slipped back inside the shop below. They could hear the closing of another door inside, and then it was quiet once more. Brennar smiled to the raccoon, and then held out another shingle for him to place. Vinsah took another bite of the pastry, found that it was cool enough to eat without burning his tongue, and then set the rest aside for later. He had work to do on this roof.
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