The House of Yeel

by Michael McCloskey

  Jymoor finished eating. They walked through the roveportal to take a look. They emerged under a blue sky and found the group cleaning up camp. They were almost ready to go.

  “I’m glad Yeel has brought you,” said a man. His clothes looked like those of a soldier or mercenary. “There are towers ahead. They weren’t there in my time. We’ve been wondering whether to show ourselves.”

  “In this day, Riken extends farther west than you’re used to. We’re home!”

  Several others overheard Jymoor’s pronouncement and gave her bright smiles. A few looked more skeptical. Perhaps they didn’t believe her, or perhaps they felt hesitation to return so many years after they left. Many must have lost friends and family over the years, Jymoor realized.

  Jymoor and Yeel headed the column as the sun rose higher. They walked for a half hour up a slight grade, then came over a hill. A town waited ahead. Twin towers flanked the road as it slipped between two stony ridges.

  “We really are here,” she whispered.

  “What is this place? It is of Riken, correct?” asked Yeel.

  “This is Nolleguard,” Jymoor said loudly for the others to hear. “This is now Riken’s westernmost settlement. Let me go first. We don’t want to provoke a hostile response.”

  Jymoor strode forward toward the guard towers. The others followed behind a bit, walking more slowly, then finally stopped. Jymoor continued on for a minute or two before she was spotted by the watch.

  She raised her arm and waved, then continued ahead. She was almost at comfortable yelling distance when one of the guards raised his hand to his mouth to call out.

  “The Crescent Knight returns!” he bellowed.

  “So much for that,” Jymoor said to herself. She turned and signaled the others. One guard hurried out to talk to her.

  “I’ve returned with Yeel, and many other adventurers who sought him,” she said.

  “Come in! I’m happy to see you. We’re all happy to see a hero thought dead return to Riken.”

  Soldiers accumulated at the gate. None of them seemed alarmed, though they all stared at the large band of refugees from the garden closing in from behind Jymoor.

  The captain of the guard pushed his way through the men to approach Jymoor.

  “Did you say Yeel?”

  “That’s correct, captain. Here he is. Yeel himself. And he’s come to help us. We’ve all returned to help our homeland.”

  The captain looked at her strangely. She realized it was because she hadn’t removed her helm.

  Jymoor gave a mental shrug.

  Let them see the truth! Or maybe that’s just the armor talking.

  She quashed the doubt and removed the helm and met the captain’s gaze squarely.

  “I think my return and the success of the mission merit a courier dispatch, captain,” she said firmly.

  The captain blinked.

  “You are…?”

  “What’s wrong with you, boy?” came another voice behind Jymoor. Master Kasil walked up beside her. “Maybe he’s never seen a woman before? Been on garrison duty out here too long, soldier?”

  “It’s simply that…well, the Crescent Knight is a man!”

  “Who told you that? She left before you were even born, likely,” Kasil said.

  “Well…well, I guess no one told me that. But everyone calls him a ‘he’ when they tell the tales.”

  “How did you recognize the armor?” Jymoor asked, changing the subject.

  “There is a tapestry, woven when the knight left for the Far Coast. All new frontier guards see it at graduation. We’re told to await the return of the Crescent Knight. Of course, I never thought I would see…her.”

  ***

  “A highly organized group of fighters riding on the backs of larger creatures have arrived at our camp,” Yeel pointed out to Jymoor. “Luckily, they seem to be friendly. Have they come to fight the barbarians? Is there an attack imminent?”

  “They’re here to escort us to the capital,” Jymoor said. “You and I will travel in carriages the rest of the way. Some of the others from the garden can ride horses, and the others will travel with us by wagon. The king is eager to meet with us and discuss plans for stopping the invasion.”

  Yeel settled back while Jymoor’s countrymen took over the band of refugees. For the last two days since their arrival at Nolleguard, Yeel had been treated with great deference, though he detected the primitives might be behaving out of fear more than admiration. Jymoor, in the moon armor, was also something of a sensation. Couriers had been dispatched to Maristaple with news of their return.

  Jymoor spoke to the refugees.

  “These soldiers are here to escort us to the capital. We’ll be meeting with Aruscetar there. Likely we’ll be asked to help out with the war.”

  “Who is Aruscetar?” asked one of the soldiers who had been captured by Slevander.

  “The reigning king of Riken,” Jymoor said loudly so many could overhear. “That is, unless something has happened since I left so long ago.”

  “He is still king,” one of the cavalrymen said.

  Another soldier came to lead Jymoor and Yeel to their carriage. Once inside, Yeel started to talk freely.

  “Tell me of your leader Aruscetar; if it pleases you, it would please me, if you could describe him to me so that I could familiarize myself with this important figure and perhaps remember something of him. I assume he will play a pivotal role in the upcoming challenges we face?”

  Jymoor smiled.

  “It would please me to tell you. Aruscetar is a war hero of Riken and now the nation’s king, ruling from Maristaple. He is wise, though sometimes has a temper. Stories say he was lost in the north on a campaign and drank the blood of the leader of a wolf pack to survive, which gave him special powers of command.”

  “His right to leadership is derived from a hardship involving animals?”

  “Ah, not exactly. He was an officer. His role in a successful war enabled him to make a bid for the throne when a previous royal family fell from power. One of the things that’s made him stand out is a mysterious ability to compel obedience. Some say this ability has its origins in the hardship.”

  “Fascinating! How has he been resisting the invasion?”

  “He’s been engaging the barbarians wherever he can, and we’ve had some limited success. But we can’t see a way to win the war.”

  Jymoor peered out a window of the carriage and called to a lieutenant sitting above them with the driver.

  “Lieutenant, would you care to join us for a while?”

  “Yes…my lady,” the lieutenant said, struggling to select an honorific.

  “The garrison soldiers told us the barbarians are still migrating south toward the capital.”

  “Yes. We’ve been harassing them as best we can, though on some days I wonder if we’re doing any good.”

  “Of course, I’ve been gone a while. What rumors are there these days of the king?” Jymoor asked the lieutenant.

  “He’s employed a seer named Yune, who studied the moon sight at the Liscenium Temple. She’s going to help us predict when the barbarians will next attack. Or so the king believes.”

  “And you don’t believe in her?”

  The lieutenant shrugged.

  “I’m more concerned with stopping them, regardless of when they arrive. There are too many of them.”

  ***

  Yeel caught a glimpse of Maristaple’s walls in the distance. Even though the walls were just visible on the far side of the valley, people were already lined up by the road to see the arrival of the Crescent Knight and the Great Yeel. Farm children ran alongside the carriages for a time before tiring and falling back.

  A mass of people waited outside the gates. Jymoor and Yeel moved out to the top of the carriage to wave at everyone. Cheers greeted them. The people were ecstatic to see their heroes return.

  Not surprising, given the dire situation.

  Inside the gates, even more people waited. Th
ey packed the streets, the shop fronts, even the roofs. Soldiers watched from the towers flanking the main gate.

  So many prying eyes…so many minds. I haven’t had to obscure my true appearance from so many at once for…well, since last time I came here. Unless I forgot some times.

  “Is anything wrong, Yeel?” Jymoor asked.

  “Nothing, just taking it all in. What happens next?” Yeel deflected.

  “We’re going to meet King Aruscetar.”

  “Good. We can speak with him about coordinating a defense with Vot.”

  “No. Not this time. It’s a public event. A formal meeting. We’ll have to wait and give him our proposal behind closed doors.”

  “We’re meeting him, but we can’t talk to him? Your kind is so very closed mouthed already, this sounds like an even more extreme form—”

  “You can talk. Just stick with pleasantries. If he asks about the trip we can share a few adventures, but mostly just talk about trivial things unless he asks. We could only speak about the defense and a possible alliance with Vot if he brings it up, which he won’t, not in this venue.”

  The procession moved through the primitive city toward a massive fortress on a hill. They passed two more walled gates before leaving the carriage and going into the castle, flanked by soldiers. Jymoor and Yeel were escorted through stone passages, past a courtyard, and through three massive sets of double doors.

  They walked into a large chamber obviously meant to impress. It rivaled the size of Yeel’s own fountain room. Vibrant tapestries and carpets lined the walls and the floor. Seating lined both sides of the room, occupied by humans who looked wealthier than those outside. Soldiers in mail armed with shiny new halberds guarded the doors.

  Yeel spotted the leader immediately. The man sat at the far end of the room on a raised stone platform, flanked by more soldiers. He was an older man, tall and fit, with gray hair at the temples. His face was angular with a slightly pointed chin.

  That’s presumably his mate sitting next to him.

  Queen Ralia had long, wavy raven hair. Something looked a bit different about her. The curve of her eyes, a dark tint to her skin, made her stand out.

  “Surely this queen is from another land?” Yeel guessed.

  “Yes. She’s from Greater Talcitt, a land to the south. The king has married her to seal the peace between our nations. She’s already sent a request for help to her homeland, but we received only a thousand axe men in response. Still, they are brave men who came here to defend Riken.”

  The king stood up to receive them.

  “The Crescent Knight and the Great Yeel,” a voice behind them announced.

  The king motioned them forward. Yeel walked up with Jymoor beside him. It was quite a distance. The entire flock of wealthy and powerful Rikenese watched quietly as Jymoor strode over and Yeel slid along beside her. He carefully planted the idea in their minds of a tall man walking with her.

  “My king,” Jymoor said, dropping to her knee. Yeel projected the idea that he copied her position to everyone in the room. In fact he simply squatted lower on his wide foot.

  I hope my slime doesn’t ruin that red carpet.

  The king regarded Jymoor first.

  “Tell me, did Avorn die well?”

  Jymoor’s eyes grew wide for a moment. Yeel jumped in to give her a moment to recover.

  “He fell victim to those who sought to imprison me on the Far Coast,” Yeel said. “Fortunately, the armor didn’t fall into their hands for long.”

  King Aruscetar nodded. “I can see that. I’m glad we have a new champion.” His voice was calm. Queen Ralia smiled.

  “I present the Great Yeel,” Jymoor said. “The very same being who saved Maristaple so long ago.”

  King Aruscetar and Queen Ralia examined Yeel openly.

  “So, you’re the mighty Yeel,” the king said.

  Something in his voice…I think he doubts my identity.

  “I am indeed Yeel. It’s been a long time since I was in Maristaple. I’m pleased to be in your presence, and I’ve brought a gift for you.”

  The king’s eyebrow rose. Suddenly, Yeel held a three-foot golden rod in his hand, extended toward the king.

  Two guards stepped forward, their hands on their pommels.

  Oops. I forgot to include that in my appearance.

  The king defused the situation by accepting the rod. He examined it.

  “It’s real gold,” he noted.

  “Correct, sir, but that isn’t the source of its true value. The rod absorbs a measure of its holder’s strongest characteristics. If you rule with the rod for a few years, then it becomes attuned to your…skills. I believe you are renowned for your ability to command men. The rod will mimic your aura. Then, you can pass it on to your son. It will imbue him with a measure of your own special skills.”

  “This rod can…pass on my abilities to my son?” King Aruscetar asked.

  “It has that potential, provided you keep it near you for a good fraction of the next three or four years.”

  “That’s the most wonderful gift we’ve ever received,” Queen Ralia said. “Thank you very much, Great Yeel.”

  The king nodded his agreement, though he seemed less ready to speak his thanks.

  “I’ll have Yune examine it carefully,” he said. He handed the rod to a soldier who walked to the side and gave it to a woman in a blue dress. She wore a silver circlet over her long black hair. Her quick, clear eyes were glued onto Yeel.

  “We’re glad to see you return, both of you,” Aruscetar said. “Riken needs you. And here you are. Two heroes to lend their swords—and their magic—to tip the scales in the fight for our lives.”

  The court gave their applause.

  “Please, relate to us details of your trip,” Queen Ralia asked. As she asked the question, Yune stepped a bit closer to Jymoor and Yeel.

  “The trip out was difficult and fraught with danger,” Jymoor started. Yeel stood by patiently as Jymoor spoke of her random encounters with predators, a slide down a short cliff, her discovery of Yeel’s house, and their journey back to Riken. She left out many details about Avorn but related most of what had happened in the stone garden and spoke of the survivors they’d brought back. She mentioned Vot and the Ascarans, though did not go into detail of their plight or any chance of aid from them. Here and there, Yeel took the opportunity to permanently remember a detail or two he’d already forgotten.

  If it’s important enough to mention in such a brief summary to the king, I’d better be able to recall it, he thought.

  The entire tale took only a dozen minutes to finish. Yeel was sure even with his own very limited memory he could have stretched it out over days. The audience was captive to Jymoor’s description, and a few of those present even gasped or clapped as she spoke of a danger or a victory.

  King Aruscetar listened carefully. He seemed in a bit of a better mood by the end of the tale, though Yeel could not guess why.

  “An impressive tale of heroism,” he said.

  “Yes, you’ve inspired us all,” Ralia agreed.

  “Now, then, I will let you rest and wash away the road,” Aruscetar said. “We can speak of other matters in the next day or two.”

  Jymoor bowed, so Yeel copied her display of obeisance. The steward ushered them out of the throne room.

  “Your rooms are this way,” the steward said. He snapped his fingers. A boy rushed up to assist him.

  “Show them the rooms we prepared,” the steward ordered. The boy nodded.

  “This way, my lady—Your Knightship, and…Great Yeel!” the boy said. The steward rolled his eyes and went back into the throne room.

  Jymoor and Yeel chatted as they followed the boy.

  “Well, I guess that went well enough,” Jymoor said.

  “The king seems reasonable,” Yeel agreed. “Though he doubts I am really who I say I am. We need to decide how to convince him that our plan is sound. First, perhaps we should convince ourselves that the plan is so
und. That way, we won’t have to battle our own doubts as we convince the king. It would lend the weight of our convictions to the persuasion.”

  “The seer seems to think Riken stands a chance.”

  “Ah yes, Seer Yune. Aruscetar’s mistress, as well,” Yeel said.

  “What? How? Shush, don’t let anyone overhear that now! What makes you think she is his mistress?”

  “A simple matter of careful observation of body language, analysis of intent, opportunity, together with several chemical tracers that—”

  “Have you ever thought about taking a mistress yourself, Yeel?” Jymoor said.

  “Well. I, um, no,” Yeel stuttered. “When you wield great power, um, as I do, you…shy away from becoming attached so that you can…make clear decisions about what’s best for all.”

  “You poor soul! The weight of such responsibility must be overwhelming. But I can understand. I’m the Crescent Knight now. I share with you these burdens. We have a special connection you and I, living a life of duty. We surely will become very close…”

  “You’re an exceptional knight and a valued friend,” Yeel assured her. A storm crossed her face.

  Perhaps I didn’t compliment her strongly enough? Something seems to be bothering her.

  Chapter 13: Yeel’s Memory Augment

  Yeel opened the door to his room and found a guard outside in the hall.

  “You have need of something?” the guard asked.

  “Well, it’s just that…you see, I don’t sleep.”

  The guard looked at Yeel uncertainly.

  “Seriously. I don’t sleep. My great powers and all, you know…anyway, I was hoping to inspect the library.”

  “Very well. But I am to accompany you.”

  “Hmm. How odd. Very well. Now. Where is the library, exactly?”

  “This way. We should find a scholar, too, if we go in there. I don’t know my way around that place.”

  The guard led Yeel to another guard station, where someone was sent after a scribe or a scholar. It took a bit of a wait, but finally an older human with gray hair and wrinkled skin appeared.