Colony - Seeds of War (Colony - The Saga of Earth's First Civilizaton Book 4)

by Gene Stiles

  Morpheus cautiously sat down on the edge of the bed, his body trembling, his ebony eyes shimmering. He reached out and tenderly ran his fingertips down the edge of Haleah’s sweet face, brushing damp strands of blond hair from her cheeks. She leaned into his touch and kissed the wide palm of his hand. Morpheus bent forward, careful not to crush the little body beneath him and kissed her upon her upturned lips. He pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes locked together, as tears rolled down his square-jawed, suntanned features.

  “I love you so much,” he whispered, caressing her softly. “Thank you, my love. Thank you so very much.”

  “Oh, Morpheus, I love you more than you will ever know,” Haleah replied. She grinned lightly and pushed him back with a nudge to the head. “Now would you be so kind as to take one of your daughters from my weary arms?”

  “Daughters?” Morpheus sat bolt upright with such suddenness, the look on his face so startled, that the entire room broke out in lavish, gleeful laughter. The barrel roll of Lelantos’ voice shook the walls from where he sat in a thickly cushioned chair against one blue-painted wall. Morpheus was not even aware his friend had followed him in.

  “Yes, my love,” Haleah beamed. “You have two lovely little girls. For the first time in the history of the Keepers, twins have been born.” She grinned with mischievous wickedness. “You must be a special man indeed.”

  Even the brilliant rays of sun shimmering through the windows could not match the bright red glow that flushed every inch of Morpheus’ handsome face, made all the worse by the howls and whistles coming from Lelantos. The women had no choice but to join in, filling the bedchamber with joyful mirth and laughter.

  “Well, my love,” Haleah smiled, “will you not hold your daughter?”

  “I…uh…I,” Morpheus stammered, his battle-hardened hands trembling, “I have never held a newborn babe. I am not sure how to hold her.”

  “Oh, Morpheus,” Haleah chuckled lightly, nodding to Mela to take one of the girls, “she will not break. Cradle her head in your palm. Here, let me help.”

  She lifted the child, placed the tiny bundle into the proffered hands of Morpheus and watched the wonder and happiness playing across his face. The baby fit snuggly in one of his large, wide hands, her little, blanket-wrapped legs barely passing his thick, muscled wrist. Haleah glowed blissfully as she saw tears of awe and reverence roll down his cheeks.

  Morpheus pushed the cloth back from his daughter’s sweet face, touching the tight, damp, black curls covering her rounded dome. His lips gently kissed the girl’s little, pink forehead, and his eyes shone with a father’s loving pride. Her full lips pouted, but no longer cried. She looked up at him with shimmering black eyes as if trying to figure out just who he was.

  “Such a beautiful child,” Morpheus whispered, his voice trembling. With great difficulty, he tore his gaze from the incredible living doll in his arms and smiled at the stunningly lovely woman next to him. “Thank you, Haleah, my love. In my wildest dreams, I could have not wished for a greater gift. How do you feel? Are you all right?”

  “Oh, Morpheus,” Haleah replied, reaching up to caress his face with her fingertips, happy tears filling her sky-blue eyes, “it is I who am the lucky one. You have blessed me with not one, but two miracles this day. I love you so very much.” She brought his face closer to her and kissed him tenderly. “Thank you for loving me.”

  “As if I had a choice,” Morpheus grinned. “May I hold the other one?”

  Haleah took the babe from his arms and nodded to Mela to give him his other daughter. The maiden carefully placed the small, blanket in his outreached hands, smiling as if the child was her own. Morpheus held the bundle lightly, his face alight with wonderment. Wisps of golden blond hair lay matted against the tiny head, blue-green eyes wide open to the glory of a new world. Morpheus kissed her sweetly, unable to keep the love from bursting from his heart and trickling from his eyes.

  “They are so different from each other,” he said, crooning nothing words at his baby girl. “They shall need names that fit them.”

  “I was thinking Adrasteia and Ida,” Haleah replied with a grin. “I know that in the language of the People, Adrasteia means the ‘Inescapable One’ and you shall never be able to escape from her love.”

  “It also means ‘One Who Does Not Flee,’” Morpheus laughed, “and she will never be able to run from my arms. It fits. So it shall be.”

  “Ida means ‘Cherished One’ in the language of the Izon,” Haleah added, nervous, but hoping Morpheus would agree. “She will always be cherished in our lives. Our daughters are both of the People and the Izon. We honor their heritage by giving them names in both languages.”

  “But of course, my sweet wife,” he readily agreed. “They are the first true bridge between our people. We must tell everyone that we are now one culture, one race and here is the living proof.” Morpheus beamed so brightly his smile lit the entire room. “You are very wise for a primitive woman.”

  “Who are you calling a ‘primitive’?” Haleah laughed. “I won the heart of the greatest warrior of the People…and I can still wipe the floor with you.”

  “So true on both counts,” Morpheus chuckled. “Be careful how you teach our girls. I do not want to have three devilish vixens to deal with.”

  “But you shall, my husband,” Haleah smiled. “You shall indeed.”

  The Great Hall burst at the seams with the packed bodies dancing, drinking and laughing. Outside, colored crystal lights looped from tall wooden poles formed a giant hexagon behind the hall. A mammoth blazing bonfire lit the center sending fireflies of sparks into the cool, springtime night air. Smaller cooking fire pits edged the ring, fresh boar and deer meat, seasoned with savory herbs, sizzled and crackled, filling the celebration with mouth-watering aromas. Voices rose in song to the accompaniment of flutes, drums and sweet-sounding musical instruments. Children scampered between the legs of the adults, laughing and playing and attempting to steal frosted confectionaries from cloth-covered tables, many receiving good-natured hand slaps for their troubles.

  The residents of Home dressed in their best finery, showing off the newest creations of fashion and footwear. Jewelry of gold, silver and precious gems in a prismatic kaleidoscope of color dangled from wrists and ankles and hung from necks and ears. The multitudes of shapes and hues sparkled and shimmered in the combination of crystal glow and firelight in seeming competition with the star-filled, blue-black heavens.

  Everyone, be they of the People or the Izon, attended the jubilant Spring Festival, made all the more glorified by the birth of the twin girls of Morpheus and Haleah. The Izon, especially, were cognizant of the awe-inspiring significance of the births. Never had a Keeper born more than one daughter in her lifetime, let alone two at once. After all the trials and losses of the past years, the promise of the Book and the legends of the Ancestors finally came to fruition. Peace surrounded them so completely guards no longer need be posted. Truly, they lived in a time of miracles.

  Haleah sat upon an extra-wide, thickly padded bench next to Morpheus on a raised dais near one polished mahogany wall within the Great Hall. She had balked at being set above everyone else, but the crowd gaily insisted, gleefully guiding her up to the small divan and dragging Morpheus up the short steps with her. The newborn babes lay in a tan, wooden bed, high-sided and stuffed with brightly flowered blankets. The crowd flowed next to the crib in a constant, steady stream, cooing and ahhing at the tiny pink bundles. Haleah gazed at the girls with elated, prideful amazement as her daughters accepted the attention of all without tears or panic.

  She turned her head to smile blissfully at her beloved. His ebony hair flowed in gentle waves over his wide, square shoulders and down his broad back, spilling over his heavily muscled, pride-filled chest. She listened to his whimsical laughter as those around him playfully chided and congratulated him, feeling it wash against her skin like a tide of joy. His onyx eyes shimmered in the night-lights, his high cheekbones flushed
with a combination of mirth and drink. Haleah still could not believe this handsome man, so strong and yet so serene, chose to love her so deeply. Never in her long lifetime did she ever think she could be so fantastically fortunate and now that blessing encompassed not just the two of them, but two beautiful daughters. No more could she ever want in this life. Her world was perfect.

  “Three ladies in your household,” Lelantos bellowed good-naturedly, standing behind Morpheus, his hammer-hand griping the seated man’s shoulder. “And you thought Haleah was a handful! You shall never know peace again, my friend! Your life as a carefree man is over.”

  “You should be so happily endowed,” Morpheus replied, leaning his head back and grinning up at his friend. “Of course, you would have to give up your wicked ways.”

  “Oh, I am happily endowed,” Lelantos snickered. “Just ask any of my many contented consorts.”

  “Lelantos!” Haleah scolded with a grin. “Not in front of the children!”

  “Forgive me, my lady,” the giant of a man responded, no real remorse touching his chuckling voice. “I am crude and sometimes forget myself.”

  “Well, I shall excuse you this time on one condition,” she smiled.

  “And that is?”

  “I require a kiss,” Haleah laughed.

  “As you command,” Lelantos sneered, his gold-flecked eyes, sparkling. He bent down, his rich auburn hair tickling Haleah’s soft skin. “But only on the cheek. I do not wish to be attacked by a jealous mate.” He smooched her noisily on her rosy cheek, quickly glancing at Morpheus, his eyes dancing in the firelight. “My most sincere and warmest congratulations, Haleah. Your babies are lovely and could not wish for better or more deserving parents.”

  “Thank you so very much, dear man.” She pressed her lips to his forehead and touched her brow to his. “I am honored to call you friend.”

  “Not that I am the jealous type,” Morpheus grinned, taking her tiny hand in his and pulling her face close to his. His lips met hers with a heat greater than the bonfire crackling blazing in the circle.

  “I can see that,” Lelantos bellowed, slapping Morpheus on the back before stepping from the dais. “I shall find myself a tall, strong drink and leave you two to yourselves. Enjoy the night. It belongs to you.”

  Captains Lianas, Thalassa, Kaikinos, Simoeis and their First Mates paraded past the couple, bathing them in well-wishes and congratulations, cheerfully chattering over the girls, picking them up and passing them around amongst them. The babies seemed to bask in the attention, murmuring contentedly in the newborn language in the arms of each new person. Shuk and their Izon friends gathered in small groups around the crib, unwilling to take Haleah’s offer to hold the little bundles for fear that their rough, callused hands would be too harsh against infant skin. The Izon preferred to pump Morpheus’ hand in the way of the People, pound his back, kiss their Keeper with reverence and to shower them both with hugs and kind words.

  By the time the revelry slowed and the passage of people thinned to a few stragglers, the children were hungry and cranky. Haleah and Morpheus pardoned themselves as they worked through the gathered throng, making their way at last to their small dwelling on the edge of the forest. Haleah fed the twins and laid the girls in their large, padded crib. Within moments, the wearied babes fell into silent, peaceful slumber.

  “What a night,” Haleah exclaimed, plopping exhaustedly down on the cushioned bed. She pulled her pastel green, laced blouse over her head, shaking her blond tresses free from the constraints of her wide, forest-patterned headband. Her knee-high, brown leather booths fought her attempts to remove them until, at last, she gave up with a heavy sigh. Haleah glanced over her shoulder at the sprawled form of Morpheus lying naked on top of the comforter. “Could you help me, please, my love?”

  Morpheus rose with feline grace, moving around the four-poster bed to kneel at her feet. His face lit the room, dimming the light crystals with his exuberant felicity. Never releasing Haleah from his hawk-like eyes or the enchanted curve of his sensuous lips, his pulled her boots off. He lifted her to her feet, unbuckled the tan leather belt from around her waist and slid her light green skirt to the floor. He stood wordlessly before her, his tender hands tracing the lines of her upturned face and her smooth, wide shoulders. His fingertips caressed the rise of her ample breasts sending shockwaves of ecstasy along her nerve endings. She closed her bright blue eyes, a small moan escaping her parted lips. Morpheus lifted her nude, quivering body as if she were a child and laid her on the warmth of their blankets. He brushed her wanting lips with the tip of his tongue then raised himself up on one elbow, wanting to memorize the flushed curves of her face at this moment. Haleah opened her moist eyes and looked up at him, filled with the passion of his touch.

  “Thank you, my love,” Morpheus whispered as he touched her. “Thank you for our daughters. Thank you for sharing your life with me and, most of all for giving your precious, loving heart to me. I swear I shall love you with all my soul…forever.”

  Before Haleah could reply, Morpheus validated his words with his body and mind, consummating their love with a joining of souls. He knew with every fiber of his throbbing heart that nothing could make his life better than it was at this moment.

  Lost in the power of the night, Morpheus could not know how very wrong his thoughts were nor how soon his joy would be multiplied into magnificence. For now, let the world enshroud them in a blanket of amorous adulation. Let them be lost in the heat of each other’s touch. It was all they needed.

  Chapter XI

  Cronus sat in his high-backed leather chair at the head of the Table staring at the information scrolling quickly across the color monitor embedded in the polished mahogany. The dark, thunderclouds roiling high over the rain-soaked, bejeweled city appeared to have made their way into the well-lit council chambers and settled above the Lord Father. The wavy, red curls of his long, fiery mane crackled around his ruggedly handsome features like crimson bolts of lightning. His jade green eyes blazed at the display as if he could alter their meaning by sheer force of will alone. The scowl that creased his wide brow and pursed his thin lips set a tick to thrumming along his clenched, square jawline. His thick fingers unconsciously fiddled with the data pyramid on the table causing the holo pictures floating in the air above it to shift rapidly from scene to scene.

  Like the rest of the Twelve, Coeus was loath to break the heavy silence that hung like a thick autumn fog within the chambers. His unruly, wavy, cinnamon hair floated around his oval face, masking the brilliant intelligence burning in his shinning hazel eyes. He knew well the spiteful wraith that could burn his flesh if he interrupted Cronus while he was in such a mood. He had been seared by it before. Still, to Coeus, this new information was titillating and made him giddy to explore the fantastic implications. He could contain his frenzied excitement no long, despite the possible dire consequences.

  “Cronus, we must send a ship immediately,” he chattered adamantly, his enthusiasm resounding ever more loudly in the quiet pall of the room, “and I want to be on it! We must know where they came from and how they survived all these long years. Or are they new arrivals from our brethren who went to the stars? If so, why have they not contacted us? So much to know! So much to ask! We must go at once! We must!”

  Coeus nearly leaped from his chair, his long, slender fingers clasped behind his long, high-collared, forest green robe. The tiny, crushed ruby quartz crystals embedded in the material tinkled like wind chimes as it dragged behind his stooped-shouldered walk. He glided across the smooth marble floor until he could touch the images floating above the table. In his excitement, he dared to place his hand over that of Cronus to slow the dizzying shift of the scenes. He snapped it back as if his fingertips had touched a pile of glowing embers under the withering gaze that pinned him to the spot.

  “There is another colony of the People,” Coeus uttered, his voice faltering beneath the green fire that crackled in the eyes of Cronus. He was too old and
too thrilled by the possibilities to back down from his brother completely, but the sizzling anger he saw in those eyes gave him pause. “We must contact them. Please, Cronus,” he pleaded. “Give the order and let me go to them.”

  Cronus said nothing, staring intently at one of the startling, disconcerting images sent to him by Ramathus. The holo was obviously taken from a high ridgeline at a great distance so some detail was lost, but enough of the scene was visible to excite and terrify the council and to fuel a fire thought forgotten inside of Cronus.

  Along the banks of a magnificent, swiftly moving river, a sandy, beige shoreline gave way to a gently sloping rise of waist-high, yellow-green grass swaying in a stiff, morning breeze. Widely spaced groves of tall, broadleaf trees dotted the flowing savannah, silhouetted by a bright golden sun. A gigantic swath of cut grass and naked soil marred the pristine landscape as if scraped clear by the hand of the Creator. A network of dwellings and buildings of unknown purpose, marked by well-kept streets, spider-webbed outward across the settlement. A wide cove cut deeply into the landscape that contained a deep harbor, small high-bowed reed boats not unlike in design to the ships of the People and a long wooden dock.

  In the exact center of the glade, an enormous flat-topped pyramid arose from the wind-swept plains. The base of the structure spread for roughly three hundred feet per side in a near perfect square. Precisely cut limestone blocks four foot high and eight foot long, firmly stacked side by side, made up each step to a towering height of about one hundred and fifty feet. A waterfall of flowers and vines cascaded down each side in a rainbow of color that dazzled the eye. Stairways carved into the blocks on all four sides of the massive structure gave access to the flat top of the pyramid. Green grass and gazebos dotted the plateau’s top with winding paths among flowerboxes lining the majority of the edges and scattered around the pathways. A granite-walled, rectangular building sat in the dead center of the tabular surface, taking up almost a quarter of the available space. Twelve carved and polished marble pillars stood like stony sentinels at the front entrance holding up a full-length portico of smoothed marble. Nothing was visible inside the dusky interior beyond the wide-open, ornately carved wooden doors, but a steady stream of people entered and left, carrying a strange variety of objects. The overall effect was stunning in its audacious beauty.