ARGEL - Book One - Planet of Refuge

by B.B. Humphrey

Cymry stood, his back ram-rod straight, beside Eiddyl and Awel, their heads bowed before Aedd, the Council Moderator. Ancient, with a deeply lined face, he glared down from a dais. He pointed a gnarled finger at them, his long silver beard quivering. “Serious repercussions will come from your foolish deeds.” His voice resonated throughout the large chamber. “Why do you think we use our power to shield our world from outsiders? We know not what monsters they may be, or what destruction they would bring.”

  Prince Cymry jerked his head up and glared around the chamber. This way of thinking drove him crazy. He had to speak. “We remain unchanged, our traditions and culture strong. No one can deny that these are good things. But, have we grown in knowledge? The Elfin law prohibits our people from interacting with others on Argel. Why?”

  He gave no one time to speak. “For example, much might be learned from the strange people across the sea. They have their own traditions and culture as seen by their ships and products at Moray.” He swung around and looked directly into Master Aedd’s face. “Think how much more people who travel in the sky could teach us. How wonderful it would be to fly!” He lowered his voice and kept it firm. “The sky people are less unlike us, as are the people from across the sea. They’re like us in form. The young woman—“

  “Ah, now the reason for your interest emerges.” Aedd’s face evolved into a mask of disgust. “Oh, is it within the realm of possibilities a woman can pass by without our Prince Cymry’s head being turned? Consider your proper duty!” Aedd sneered and his words burned within Cymry. “Did you not maintain veiling before them?” The old man’s voice boomed in the quiet his words brought to the chamber. “We Elfinista must be especially diligent.”

  Cymry shielded his mind and thought, yes, you old snufflegrunt. Aloud, he said, “Yes, sire, we did, but the woman could partially see through our shields.”

  “By the holy breaths of Alpha and Omega!” The Council Leader shook his fist. “You have broken the hundred year agreement with all the Argel countries to prevent monsters from above contaminating our way of life. We have enough to worry about with those damnable Sha’fa pecking at us from the desert.”

  A tall man, wide in shoulder, slim of waist and hip, stood. “Master, please, give me leave to speak?”

  “Speak, Lord Ercwlff.”

  “The mighty Tristan Wind is beginning to blow across the valley and stir the Rhosyn flowers. Any creature not knowing the danger may die. Thusly, our problem ceases to exist. We can bury the flying object deep into the earth with the creatures inside. No good can come of the word of this spreading.”

  Awel surprised Cymry by stepping forward and crying out, “We must help them! They know nothing about the Tristan and they didn’t cause the crash—we did.”

  “Quiet!” thundered Aedd. “No young chit is allowed to speak in the Council.”

  Eiddyl stepped up beside his sister and bowed. “Master, please give leave for me to go to the forest and warn them. They’re here because of our meddling.”

  Master Aedd leaned forward and held out his hands. “Foolish young ones. Tonight you will not sleep while thinking of what your recklessness has wrought. They must die. That will be your punishment. Leave my presence.”

  His trembling finger pointed toward the palace guards along the side of the room. “See they do not leave the upstairs quarters this night until we can settle this matter. Later, we may consider putting these irresponsible young upstarts to work in the mage circles night and day until their excess of psi power is depleted.”

  He turned to a clerk. “Prepare a notice to their father upon his return. No doubt, King Craddoc will have much to say to his thoughtless offspring.”

  * * *

  Awel left the chamber, head held high, fighting tears. An Elfin guard, shoulders squared, face stern, walked silently behind her. She struggled to think of how to warn the star strangers. She knew their minds were partially open to mind-merge, having been somewhat affected by the Rhosyn flower. When the Tristan Wind stirred up the pollen, they would lose all inhibitions. Being in the presence of two men, Kyla was the one most in danger. Animals were a danger to all of them.

  By the time she walked into the queen’s suite, tears trickled down her face. Her mother, sitting by the fire, rose in consternation and moved toward Awel. Although similar in appearance, Queen Betrys’ body had softened into the roundness of womanhood, and her hair shimmered like ripened wheat. She pulled her daughter into her arms and led her to the fireside. “What’s brought you such sorrow, my little bird?”

  Between sobs, Awel recited her adventures with the people from the stars and the meeting with Master Aedd. “Momete, they have no understanding of the Tristan and its danger.”

  “Quiet child. Let’s join in mind-merge and attempt to reach the girl. If she could see through your psychic shields and also understood your thoughts, perhaps we’ll be able to warn her.”

  They sat with their hands clasped together and dropped into mind-merge. Their vision sailed outside, across the meadow, the river, and into the forest. Awel felt disappointment upon seeing the vessel from the stars. She always imagined anything from the stars would hold some of that firmament’s magic glow. It only appeared to be a silver oval crushed by the surrounding trees. They didn’t see the visitors, only the tops of the trees twisted almost to the ground by the wind.

  “Apparently, they had the good sense to get inside, Awel. I feel their presence and they’re safe,” Betrys said. “Let’s go back.”

  They opened their eyes and smiled at one another. Dropping her hands into her lap, Awel said, “Thank you, Momete. I feel much better now, knowing they’re safe.”

  “I’m proud of your concern for these creatures, my dear, but Master Aedd is correct in admonishing you and your brothers.”

  “Momete, they aren’t creatures, they’re people like us.”

  Betrys took Awel’s hand and smiled. “That may be true, but they could harbor diseases for which we have no cure. Thus, I hope you will obey Master Aedd and stay away from them. Strange . . . I sensed the Elfinista Gift emanating from the vessel. Maybe, that’s why the girl could see through your cloaking.” In spite of her objections, her eyes brightened. “Tell me daughter, what are they like?”

  “I can’t really tell you much. I wasn’t around them enough to get a clear impression. I can only describe their appearances.”

  Her mother nodded.

  “Kyla is probably a couple years older than I, slender and a few inches taller. Her features are like ours, but she has the most amazing hair. It’s the color of the Fire Trumpet flower. Her eyes are a mesmerizing green and tilt upward under dark, sweeping brows. She glows with color.

  “One man is quite handsome and could be an Elfin except his body is unusually muscular. His shoulders span a distance much greater than Cym’s, but he isn’t as tall. The other man is attractive also, but much different.”

  “How is the second man different?”

  “His skin is dark—a couple of shades darker than the Lako’s. He’s very tall—seems serious—and reminds me of our old tutor. He has fathomless eyes, dark as a deep well.” Awel stared past her mother. “I sensed something very strange about him.”

  “What do you think you discerned?”

  “I can’t describe the feeling except to say he seemed to be of the earth, not the sky. Of course, we only observed the men—didn’t talk with them.”

  As her mind cleared of memories of the sky people, Awel asked her mother, “What do you think Popet will do about them? Master Aedd said they must die.”

  “I’ll advise your father. Most certainly, he will be home by tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, I doubt anyone will kill them. An investigation of the woman’s gift is necessary if they stay. Mayhap, on the morrow they’ll fly away and nothing will have to be done.”

  “Their flyin
g machine is caught in the trees. How can they possibly get out?”

  “I don’t know, daughter. Perhaps the Council will think of something. At any rate, you can do nothing, so put it out of your mind and get some sleep.”

  Eiddyl lounged in a low, carved chair across from his brother, sipping spice tea. They sat in front of a blazing fire, glad to be inside away from the raging storm roaring against the palace. The luxurious room joined their individual sleeping quarters, and the only light came from the fireplace, turning their pale hair to gold.

  As usual, Eiddyl looked to his older brother for answers. “Don’t you think it’s odd Kyla saw through our cloaking shields?”

  “It is peculiar. Few people can.”

  “True. Only the Elfinista have special powers. Must be something else.”

  Cymry’s clear blue eyes looked into the fire and he groaned. “If they die in the Tristan or they are executed by the Council, I will never forgive myself for pulling them down.”

  “Actually, all three of us are at fault. We must think of some way to save them.”

  “If they survive the storm.”

  Eiddyl sipped his tea and crossed his ankles. “If we try to see them again, the Council will have our guts for japin feed. It’s a shame that male driver fought us. We could have placed the thing in the meadow without harm.” He slapped his hand on his knees. “Well, my brother, we certainly aren’t as strong in our powers as we thought. I wonder if they’ll be able to leave. No doubt, the chariot is too damaged.”

  Cymry refilled his cup from a carafe. “We’ll be punished anyway—we may as well do whatever we chose. The old snufflegrunt accused us of being reckless, foolish, irresponsible, and thoughtless. We’ll let him know what those words mean.” He frowned and then chuckled. “Let’s go out tomorrow to see if we can help them. The least we can do is bring them food and perhaps help get their chariot from the trees. No matter how it’s powered, it cannot pull itself up through the tower trees if it’s broken.”

  “You just want to see the young woman again,” teased Eiddyl, while swinging his leg over the arm of his chair.

  “I plead guilty.” He chuckled and lifted one eyebrow. “She is tempting and they all look quite human, even the dark one. Kyla seemed ffraid and has the directness of the Owena women.”

  Eiddyl clicked his cup against his teeth. “She better be ffraid—only a strong and ferocious woman could stand against those two men if they are overcome by the Rhosyn pollen.”

  “Yes, I’m worried about that. She puts me in mind of the old fable about the people the Gods sent to populate Argel, most having blazing hair. If it’s more than a fable, time has bred the color from our people’s core self.”

  Cymry looked past his brother into the fire and said, “As a sprout, Popet took me to other lands, even beyond the mountains. Among the peasants, were those with a rhosyn cast to their hair. Popet thought it quite ugly, but it entranced me.”

  Eiddyl asked, “Did you see any of the Owena? Don’t those women have similar hair?”

  “I did see them and many did have a fiery cast to their hair. Popet treated them with an unusual amount of respect considering they were common women doing men’s work.”

  Eiddyl lifted the ornate carafe and poured tea into their shimmering crystal cups. “Why? I mean, why do the work of men?”

  “Many of them, with us in the low lands, served as guides and guards. They hold little regard for men and don’t expect or accept male protection. I cannot imagine any man approaching them, even in the Tristan. They’re quite proficient with the short sword and hand-to-hand combat, and are esteemed for their loyalty to their patrons, especially to women.”

  Eiddyl slapped his hands together. “I remember something. Didn’t we have some of them here years back? I seem to remember a fierce leader who scared me.”

  “Yes, Father required them to help find a noblewoman who disappeared from the Athol Estate. I was only twelve-years-old, guess that made you ten.”

  “Maybe, if the fable has some truth, these women are descendants of people like Kyla,” Eiddyl said.

  Cymry blinked and a deep crease formed between his brows. “How could you possibly think such a thing? The priests say we began as lumps of clay from the mountains here—that Alpha and Omega molded the clay into humankind, and I’m not inclined to believe otherwise.”

  “Don’t sting me with that zadic thorn.” Eiddyl twisted his heavy silver ring and stared into the fire. “I suppose if They could make man here, They could make others like us on other worlds like Argel.”

  His brother stood and stretched. “These philosophical ideas bore me. It’s time to retire for the night. Tomorrow we need to see to our mounts and the stables. Afterwards, we can slip away, find our visitors from the stars, and try to help them. We mustn’t let them be killed.”

  Eiddyl turned to the door as Awel barged through, smiling. “Momete and I have seen the sky people. They are safely inside their sky chariot.”

  “That depends,” Cymry said, “if they didn’t breathe too much pollen before getting inside and if the chariot doesn’t leak.”

  The princes arose early the next morning and went to breakfast with two huge Elfin guards following. Cymry ignored the guards and went to a table loaded with mounds of meats, eggs, fruits, and various types of bread. Eiddyl grinned at his brother. “This is most fortunate. We’re the first here.” Without sitting, he reached across the table, grabbed a hot roll, and crammed it in his mouth.

  “Don’t behave like a japin, brother.” Cymry faked a glare at him. “Sit.”

  After flopping into a chair, Eiddyl snatched a sausage, sandwiched it in another roll, popped it in his mouth, and winked.

  Cymry sat across from his brother and laughed. “Not hungry, are you?”

  “Starving to death. Cloaking as long as we did yesterday exhausted me,” Eiddyl said through a full mouth.

  As a young serving woman passed by his chair, Cymry patted her behind. She glared at him as she hurried from the room.

  “I’m hungry also, but not so much as to forget Momete might come in at any moment and catch you eating like an animal.”

  “She wouldn’t be half as angry with me as she would with you for treating the servants in such a disrespectful manner. You best keep your raging manhood in control until you can get to Moray.”

  Cymry thought he heard a choking sound behind his chair. He swung around and glared at the guards who looked into the distance with impassive faces. Should he report them for lack of military courtesy, which demanded they show no expression and make no sound when guarding royalty? He smiled. No I will not. One of his favorite games was shocking or teasing the guards.

  Having completed their meal, the two young men bowed their heads in a brief prayer.

  They left the castle, wrapped in heavy woolen mantles to ward against the cold left by the Tristan storm. As Cymry ran across the compound toward the warmth of the stable, he noticed bits of red pollen in the crevices between the cobblestones. Men pulled down heavy material from over the windows of the stable used to protect the animals from the pollen. Rain following the wind neutralized the pollen, so the workers could open the gates to the fields. The military mounts, irritable from confinement, lumbered out into their pasture, threatening each other with horns and teeth.

  Inside the massive stone building, Cymry removed his cape, hung it over a peg by the door, went to his mount, and gave him a loving stroke. Eiddyl followed his actions and then outfitted himself with warm water, sponges, and currycombs. His mount, stamping her feet and swinging a long black mane side to side, dropped her head and nuzzled the side of his face. Cymry watched a moment as she and Eiddyl dropped into rapport, each greeting the other with silent, loving words.

  Cymry took the responsibility for the stable seriously and first conferred with the grooms. Llyr, his gleaming white mount, tossed a silken mane and slapped his hoov
es against the door of the stall with impatience. Cymry came to him after seeing to the general needs of the stable. Llyr whistled his pleasure and nuzzled his friend in satisfaction. The prince combed his fingers through the silvery mane. “How is my beautiful brother this morning? Ready for a run?”

  Llyr pranced and whistled his delight. The melodious sounds rang through the building, inspiring the other animals to join him. The morning air filled with discordant animal voices, bringing a chorus of human laughter.

  The stablemen possessed unusual compatibilities with the many different animals, but none could communicate with them as the royal brothers did with their mounts. While Cymry and Eiddyl groomed their friends, the men in the barn always gathered around. Cymry knew the workers hoped to learn their secret, longing to communicate with the other animals.

  After they completed their chores, Cymry glanced at the waiting escort guards and winked at his brother. “Let’s saddle Eres and Llyr and go for a ride.”

  With alacrity, Eres and Llyr strained to stay still and wait for the saddles. The brothers lost no time getting them ready—men and mounts were equally eager for exercise. Cymry flung a cape around his shoulders while the two uniformed guards mounted up on larger animals, prepared to follow.

  They left the cobbled service grounds and entered a tunnel cut through the mountain behind the castle. It was wide enough for six mounts, side-by-side, to move forward unhampered. The third floor of their home sheltered them. The castle stair-stepped up the side of the pinnacle, forming many levels of habitation.

  As their overseers dropped back, Eiddyl asked, “How do you propose to get to the star chariot?”

  “We’ll ride east until out of sight, cross the river, and approach along the forest.”

  “Look-outs at the top of the castle may see us.”

  Cymry lifted his shoulders. “Simple, we’ll cloak.”

  “I suppose we can’t get into much more trouble than we’re already in.” Eiddyl nudged Eres with his knee.

  “Come on. We need to ride like the wind if we expect to lose those guards. They cannot possibly keep up with us on those heavy military mounts.”

  Cresting a hill, Cymry said, “Now.” They, as well as their mounts, melted into the sunlight.

  “They’re too close and will hear us if we move.” Eiddyl laughed. “Be still.”

  The guards came to the top of the hill, they looked around, their faces contorted. “Bastards. How do they expect us to keep up with overgrown brats that disappear in thin air? Now, we’ll catch hyden.”

  “Shssh, they could be right beside us listening.” The other soldier swung his head around as if expecting to see something. Then he sniffed, looked thoughtful, and sniffed again. “They’re here. I’m getting the nutmeg scent of their mounts.”

  The other one lifted his fist, shook it, and grinned. “If you’re around here, kiss my ass.” He laughed and turned his mount toward the castle.

  Cymry and Eiddyl stayed in place, hands clamped over their mouths. After the soldiers disappeared over the next hill, they started laughing as they materialized. Eiddyl took a deep breath. “Think how they would have felt if we had appeared after what he said.”

  “Think how they’d feel if we reported them.” Cymry smirked.

  Eiddyl continued laughing.

  “The guard knew we didn’t dare tell, or he wouldn’t have behaved that way.” Cymry stroked Llyr’s mane and said, “Okay, my friend, you know where we need to go.”

  After an hour’s ride and crossing the river, they dismounted at the edge of the woods and allowed Llyr and Eres to graze while they located the star people. As they walked into the tower trees, they took on their psi-shields and came into an opening in the forest. Cymry froze in shock.

  Hyden’s blast, Awel! What are you doing here, uncloaked?

  Chapter Five

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