Clanging bells jolted David awake. He clapped his hands over his ears and winced as the sounds echoed through the bedroom. “Damn, wonder what that’s about.” He sat up and looked at Troy. “Suppose it’s a call to worship?”
Troy wiggled deeper into the plush coverings of his bed and groaned. “I think I’ll stay here until I dry to dust. Have you ever slept this well?”
David rolled to his feet and went to the window. The view spread for miles. The building cut back into the mountain. From six stories up—a hell of a drop. “Smoke in the distance. I wonder if it’s a town or a manufacturing plant.”
Troy laughed. “There is no large industry on this planet. They have insufficient power to—“
David held his hand up to interrupt an assault of explanations. “Troy, I don’t care. We need to get our asses back to the rover. Should’ve contacted Big Mama yesterday. We’re in effect AWOL. Going to be hell to pay.”
The door crashed open and Eiddyl burst into the room throwing garments at them. Strain showed in his face, and his lips compressed against his teeth. He tossed an armful of clothing to David, who instinctively caught them. A pair of boots clunked at his feet. The same followed for Troy.
“Get dressed! Fire in the Talar Mountains! Hurry! Cymry’s getting our mounts ready.”
Troy jerked upright, throwing the covers aside. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and stared at Eiddyl. “What can we do?”
“Fight fire.”
“We are not firefighters.” Panic pitched Troy’s voice several octaves higher than normal. “Eiddyl, we need to get back to our ship.” He glanced over at David, who only shrugged.
“On Argel, everyone able to stand on two feet fights fires. Many could lose their homes and all Elfin could burn.”
Eiddyl’s urgency was contagious. David dressed as rapidly as possible while trying to understand the clothing. He stood in leggings, looked over his shoulder and puzzled over a flap that hung from his behind. Eiddyl rocked from foot to foot and gave a grunt of impatience. He reached between David’s legs, pulled the flap up to the front waist, and pointed out the ties.
Troy followed David’s example, yanked everything in place, and pulled on his boots.
“Wondered if we were going around with our privates exposed,” David said while pulling on a knee length tunic. He pranced, with limp wrists, to the door. “Always wanted to wear a dress. Am I cute, or what?”
Troy glanced at Eiddyl, laughed, and pushed David through the door. “I wonder why they think stone buildings can burn.”
David raced behind Eiddyl through winding hallways, Troy on his heels, and down five flights of stairs. A cacophony of excited voices came from the back of the palace. They ran from the palace and across a cobbled courtyard, slippery with the morning dew, surrounding a massive stone building full of broiling activity. Men already on the backs of various creatures, with trailing pack animals, headed away from the courtyard.
A young boy fought to pull a shoulder high, squealing animal by a nose ring. She kept trying to turn to her brood of six babies that followed her, causing bedlam as scurrying men stumbled over them. Cymry called out to the boy, “Get those japin out of here!”
Troy stopped in his tracks. “What are those creatures?”
David said, “Look like some kind of pig to me.” He picked up the last piglet and placed it in the boy’s arms while the mother screamed. “Run!” The boy ran and the enormous japin followed, trying to catch her baby.
“Are you a lunatic? That creature could have bitten you.” Troy held a hand to his chest.
“Yep, but the problem’s solved, isn’t it?”
Cymry led Llyr and Eres from the stable, fitted with bridles and saddles. Eiddyl led two animals that caused David and Troy to gasp. “What are those things?”
Eiddyl and Cymry laughed at their expressions. Cymry smoothed his hand down Llyr’s horn. “Goldenhorn.” He then touched the horns of the two animals obviously meant to be David and Troy’s mounts. “Rhosynhorn,” he said, with a glint in his eyes.
Troy nodded. “That word sounds like ‘rose’ plus ‘horn.’ It’s the color of their horns.”
David shuddered. “Ugly critters. Looks as if they are constructed from the creator’s scrap heap of unneeded animal parts.”
They appeared similar to the goldenhorns in that they possessed four legs and one head, but that’s where the likeness ended. Heads as broad as David’s arms, shoulders to wrists, bobbed as the brutish creatures turned baleful eyes in their direction. Troy grimaced as the one closest to him shook its head, opaque mucus flying from thick, flaring nostrils and big, rubbery lips. David stepped back as his mount jerked its head to fling large floppy ears from its face. Dangerous three-foot-long red curving horns, capped with large wooden balls, protruded from bony, bulbous foreheads almost caught him with an uppercut. The animal fidgeted and almost tromped on his foot with a three-toed, shaggy foot, bigger than a dinner plate.
Troy scratched his head and looked as if he considered the likely hood of a host of biting parasites had already boarded the thick coats, snarled in a variegation of dull, brindle colors covering bulging bellies and deeply swayed broad backs. The final crowning glory—grotesque hair shot out in wild clumps where tails and manes might be expected. He stood back and glared. “You expect us to get on these abominations?” Stepping closer, he stroked the neck of his mount with caution. “At least they have beautiful eyes, David. Such long lashes and mesmerizing lavender are to die for.”
“Oh, for Creation’s sake, Troy!” David stared up at the saddles, well above his head. “How the hell do we get on the things?”
Eiddyl made a clicking sound and the two rhosynhorns knelt. “Amazing!” David shouted as he scrambled astride and the creature stood. Soon he realized the saddle was safe and comfortable as a rocking chair, with a tall back support, which he considered a plus. Surprised, he saw a pleased look on Troy’s face.
Cymry led off at a brisk trot, followed by his brother. David found the rhosynhorn’s rocking gaits pleasant and its speed comparable to that of the goldenhorns. Grinning, he thought, these animals are great. After thirty minutes of traveling out of town through the low hills, they entered the meadows they first saw after landing.
An hour later, watching the front of the line disappear between two hills, Troy glanced at David and said, “This is incredible. Why do you suppose they recruit this many people? Judging by their anxiety, forest fires are calamities of the first order. The idea of our joining in this endeavor worries me. This might be a convenient way to get rid of us.”
David threw up his hands and grunted. “What can we do? Never seen a forest since I was a kid and never a forest fire. We really need to get in touch with the Adventurer.”
“I don’t expect this will take long,” Troy said while peering from the front to the back of the line. “From the look of things, everyone is coming and should make a short job of this firefighting business.” He turned in his saddle and searched for the end of the column. “They are still coming. If we look on the bright side of things, bringing us along shows acceptance of our presence.”
David nodded. “Or maybe, fighting forest fires takes precedence over worries about strangers from space.”
The brothers, riding alongside listening to the conversation, looked at one another and grinned.
Not exactly, came Cymry’s silent answer.
A deep crevice formed between David’s brows. “What do you mean?”
After the meeting, talk started about eliminating all signs of your presence on Argel.
David repeated the words to Troy whose pupils rimmed in white.
To his shock, Cymry laughed. Don’t be concerned. You’ll be safe once you provide a service to Argel. It is our custom to honor anyone proving to be colleagues through actions. To fight fire is the greatest service possible.
When David translated
the silent words, Troy shuddered. “How can you be sure we will be safe? I find this quite disturbing.”
As long as you are with us, you’re safe. Now, you see why we brought you with us, yes?
A cross shaped shadow moved up ahead on the ground. As David watched, it grew larger and larger until . . . David looked up. “What!”
He ducked, throwing himself across the neck of his rhosynhorn. A flying creature, like the one seen through the rover window, swooped down close enough that its turbulence disturbed the surrounding trees. It’s wings spanned forty feet or more. He turned his head to the side and looked over at Troy, who had buried his face in his mount’s scruffy mane.
Cymry and Eiddyl laughed in abandon while waving to the rider on the creature, who looked doll-like at that distance.
David sat up, his face flaming hot. “Is it like the thing that attacked our vessel? They look dangerous.”
Cymry answered, Fyrdracos.
Eiddyl grasped David’s wrist to assure his understanding of the unspoken message. They are very dangerous if left wild. The one you saw is a young one, domesticated and trained by the man on its back.
“If that’s a young one, I sure as hell don’t want to see an old one.”
Troy, a shade lighter than his usual coffee color, picked mane hair from his mouth. “Fire drakos. That must mean fire dragon, David. That is what Kyla called them. I wonder what they are doing here. Finding out would be a worthy research project. However, this little side trip is getting more and more frightening.”
Several more hours of travel brought the column into a gorge enveloped by towering mountains. David was pleased as the air became cooler and thinner. By early afternoon, they moved single file, along high cliffs covered with small gnarled trees. The way became torturous, but the pace never faltered. Now, the scent of burning wood stung his nose and he saw more and more dragons circling overhead.
They progressed downhill from the gnarled trees, to towering evergreens, and into a primeval-like forest of mammoth oaks. There was little undergrowth and almost no light. Large herds of graceful, deer-like animals calmly foraged in the dimness or rubbed their single horns against the trunks of the trees. A flash of movement caught David’s attention. “Troy, look!”
Eiddyl looked back over his shoulder. Taryn child.
The child, no taller than two feet, carried a bow in his hand and an animal across his shoulders. He ran to an oak, appeared to walk straight up the trunk, and disappeared into the foliage. David and Troy watched in curiosity.
Eiddyl laughed at their expressions and pointed overhead. They peered up to a matt of vines and foliage disturbed by a sudden movement above them. The boy ran across a swinging bridge. Eiddyl smiled at their expressions of awe. We’re under the homes of the Taryn.
They traveled through the night and slept in their saddles. On occasion, unseen Taryn women dropped food and water on long dangling vines for men and animals. Late in the afternoon, they arrived at an encampment. As they rode through the camp, David found its size and the flurry of activity impressive. A large number of small, women scurried between cook fires, larger men sprawled in exhaustion, and a huge healer’s tent stood by a stream.
They walked near a bubbling stream. David hadn’t yet finessed making the beast kneel, so Cymry went over to help him dismount. His knees buckled when his feet met the ground, and he rubbed his saddle-worn backside. He watched Troy’s face cringe as he walked with legs apart, his hands gripping his rump. They grasped the reins of their rhosynhorns and followed men to the stream where everyone removed saddles and reins to let the animals drink and graze.
Walking back through the camp with Troy, David saw a group of people, none an inch over four feet, and raised his brows in question. Cymry chuckled. They are the Taryn people. The mountains of Talar are within their realm. They are very industrious and, although shy, you will find them quite friendly.
David’s mind swelled from the intentness of mind merging, but he felt proud that he managed to understand Cymry’s every telepathic word. The space explorers had never seen that many different domesticated beasts on any other planet. Knee-high animals with coats of soft, silky fur in waves across their bodies with engorged teats moved around the camp. Small, hairy girls, their skirts pooling around their three-legged stools, pumped milk into metal buckets. David compared the animals that pulled the heavy-laden wagons with a cross between Earth’s oxen and an elephant. He pointed at the large animals with raised brows.
Cymry said, “Trahern.”
Then he saw a wire enclosure of chickens.
Chickens? Where the hell . . .
As they followed Cymry back to the teaming midst of fire workers, Eiddyl led Troy to the group of white-robed Elfin surrounding a large crystal stone. Its faceted surface glittering with light made David stagger and a rainbow of color dance behind his closed eyelids. He didn’t have time to question Cymry before he found a shovel in his hands, and a large man pulled him into the forest.
Troy averted his face as Eiddyl clutched his wrist and entered his mind. Elfinista Mages. Don’t look into the stone. He needed no warning; a great force radiated from the crystal that made his head swim.
A tall, cadaverous man rose from his cushion by the stone and walked toward Eiddyl. Watch it, here comes an Arglewydd! Troy’s mind went blank and he stared at the prince. Eiddyl responded with an explanation.
Troy sighed. “Oh, you mean he is a Lord.”
The man reached their side and spoke with Eiddyl in a demanding tone. Eiddyl shuffled his feet, looked down and seemed to speak with reluctance. Not understanding, Troy stood aside, observing. The man turned and stared at Troy with such intensity, he became uncomfortable. His anxiety rose when Eiddyl walked away without explanation.
I am Arglwydd Brac. The message boomed through his consciousness. Brac’s claw-like hand gripped his elbow with surprising strength and steered him toward the trees. About fifty feet deep into the forest, he pointed to what appeared to be a mammoth oak, its diameter twice Troy’s height of six and a half feet.
Troy countered with lifted brows. “So?”
A rough push toward the tree, accompanied by a thundering message in his skull, stunned him.
Tree talk. Now!
Troy had no problem understanding this man’s mind merging. It vibrated his brain. However, he didn’t know what to do. When first arriving, the pine warned him of the storm through no effort on his part. He leaned forward and placed his hands against the tree. The ruthless man put his hands on Troy’s shoulder and pushed him against the oak.
Talk to tree, now!
Troy clasped his head. “Okay. I see you are serious about this, but I do not know how to do it.” Realizing he must try, he dropped to the ground, closed his eyes, placed his palms against the rough bark, and concentrated. Nothing happened. “This is not working. Please, be reasonable.”
He started to rise until he saw the thunderous expression on the man’s face. Alarmed, he dropped back down trying to remember what he did before. Then he thought of the tree’s storm warning at the rover. Then he relaxed and refocused. His mind filled with a kaleidoscope of green leaves, white and brown branches, spinning in a blur giving him the sensation of flying through the forest. He felt heat and the colors of fire seemed to curl back toward him, his eyes sprang open in surprise. “It is frightened. By God, I feel its fear!”
The Arglwydd nodded encouragement, his grim face softening, and he motioned for Troy to continue. It became easier and he felt as if he rode on a wave of the oak’s consciousness, moving outward, tapping the feelings of other great oaks, tall evergreens, and even small saplings. He moved through a green haze toward something threatening that filled him with fear. The trees whipped about and moaned. Smoke filled his lungs, hot ashes stung his skin, and then a violent wind blew his mind clear. Troy sprang to his feet with a startled cry. “Winds are b
eginning to blow in the Alar Valley! It will turn the fires against the firefighters!”
Troy did not understand what happened. Where the hell is the Alar? It appeared he would not be provided any enlightenment. Left standing alone, shocked, he watched as Brac, in defiance of his age, spun around and dashed toward the compound, his robes whirling behind him.
Troy looked up into the branches. “Why me?”
At his words, hundreds of cool green leaves drifted down over his body, and a sense of loving peace came over him. Without realizing what he did, Troy reached out and placed his hand against the rough bark. Limp with fatigue, he trudged back to camp. He found a spot out of the path of workers and dropped in a boneless puddle to the ground. Never had he felt such bone screeching fatigue.
David gasped for breath. It wasn’t just the fumes—he had run beside his long-legged companion for forty-five minutes without a break. Dark Eagle breathed with ease, not a drop of sweat stood on his face. They came to a clearing unburned by the inferno. David stopped, leaned on a tree, and struggled to calm his breathing.
Along the fire line, men with wet blankets smothered embers while others, with huge knives, chopped back undergrowth, clearing large swaths ahead of the blaze. North and east flames roared hundreds of feet toward the sky and the rolling black smoke blocked out the sun. How could men, no matter how many, beat back a conflagration from the bowels of hell?
With no mercy, his partner pulled David into the fray. He lost sense of time as he pounded small out-breaks of fire and shoveled dirt on smoldering wood while wheezing and coughing. It didn’t take long for him to learn to keep his feet moving so his boots wouldn’t burn.
A wonderful breeze caressed his body. He lifted his face to a frightening sight. A dragon hovered overhead and settled down almost close enough for him to reach out and touch. It possessed an enormous wingspan, claws capable of killing a rhosynhorn with one swipe, and a long graceful neck ending in a horned, vicious-looking snout.
A swarm of men came running, apparently unafraid of the beast. He noticed two huge leather sacks hanging from the dragon’s neck. Backing away from the dangerous snout, he watched the firefighters rush to the sacks, dipping out water to drink and to pour over scorched bodies. After everyone had their fill, they wet blankets. David thought he would die of thirst, but couldn’t bring himself to get close to the flying monster.
Everyone labored through the long hours of the night without a stop for rest or food. Every muscle in David’s body screamed for rest. His eyes burned, dry and itchy in their sockets, crying for moisture. He marveled at the resilience and dedication of all the men and women, from the small Taryn to the large, muscular Lakos, and the willowy, fair Elfin. After working non-stop through the night and next day, Dark Eagle, who had brought him to the firefight, told him to take a break. He stumbled back into trees the fire bypassed, collapsed to the ground, and leaned against a tree trunk.
Upon awakening, the sun had risen and the fire seemed further away. A man on a small animal, unaware of his surroundings, rode up beside David. He slumped over a glittering stone held in his hands. Another man rushed up, conferred with him, and received some sort of instruction. The man on the ground shouted out and raced over the ground toward the fire. David wondered what he should do, when someone grabbed his elbow and said, “Come on, men in trouble!”
He almost didn’t recognize Eiddyl with singed hair and rivulets of sweat streaking a soot-covered face. “What happened?”
“Fire turned back on fire fighters. In trouble, caught in a circle of fire,” he replied, panting as they ran.
“How much water can those dragons carry? Can they dump water on the men?”
Eiddyl stopped and stared at him. “Of course. I’ll tell the mage to send orders.” In moments, Eiddyl rejoined David and gripped his arm. “Let’s go.”
Within minutes, they came to a wall of roaring fire with horrified men milling around in shock and despair. An Elfin, his face contorted in sorrow, walked up to Eiddyl, and spoke to him. He turned to David. “Alpha and Omega! Cym is caught in that!” He raced toward the fire and David tackled him to the ground. “Let me up, damn you! Let me up!”
David straddled Eiddyl’s chest and raised his fist, thinking it would be better to be unconscious rather than burned up. Then he felt a disturbance in the air and pointed. “Look! The dragons! Do what you did with the rover—call the frydracos to us with water.”
Grabbing an armful of wet blankets, David started toward the inferno waving at the dragons. A dragon dumped water on him as he entered the fire with Eiddyl on his heels. While stumbling with wet blankets over their heads, and struggling for air, dragons followed spilling water over them. Air currents from the dragons’ wings pushed back the wall of smoke giving them oxygen and a narrow path to follow.
They came into an opening in the ring of fire and David stumbled over a body. Scrambling up with tears streaming, he struggled to see the three men on the ground in the dense smoke. He and Eiddyl, each pulled up a man, put their arms around them. They staggered to the third man, and gathered him between them. The fire again engulfed their path. Where were the dragons?
His pant legs were on fire. Then a flood of cool water bathed his body. He looked over at Eiddyl whose face was a rectus of pain. In a matter of seconds, they came through the fire—it had seemed a lifetime. All five men collapsed face down while others beat the fire from their clothes and dragged them to safety.
David rolled to his back as Eiddyl turned his brother over and screamed, “Healer! We need a healer!”
Two men with a litter ran up, a woman running alongside carrying a large leather bag. Long black braids swung around her shoulders as she hovered over Cymry. She put her ear to his chest and looked at Eiddyl in relief. She wound wet rags around his face and instructed the litter bearers to take him. They ran off with the motionless Prince.
David watched as she moved from man to man and gave orders to her assistants. “Meadowlark, how is he?” Eiddyl tried to talk with her, but she ignored him until each man received care. While medicating Eiddyl’s hands, she talked quietly and he settled down.
“What did she say? David asked, "Will Cymry be okay?”
Yes. Thanks to you, his burns aren’t too serious. We can only pray the fire didn't damage his lungs beyond repair.
After the healer washed out their eyes with a cooling fluid, David and Eiddyl moved into the forest and dropped down against a tree in exhaustion. David asked, “How many people are fighting the fire?”
Thousands. Those tall muscular men and women, like the man who brought you out here and the healer, are Lako. They are the strongest and best fighters but the small people, the Taryn, fight the hardest, having the most to lose.
“Why’s that?”
“Their homes and lives are dependent upon the trees.”
Eiddyl spoke aloud and David understood him. He smiled upon realizing he had begun to understand the Elfin language without depending on mind speak.
David stretched his throbbing legs. “Doesn’t everyone depend on the forest?”
“Yes, you’re right, but the Taryn actually live in the trees. Their whole way of life exists in the tops of the trees.” He brushed cinders from his hair and smiled when David nodded his understanding. Eiddyl said, “It took a stranger, not even of Argel, to think of using the dragons to wet down the fires.”
“Why?”
“I guess it’s because the flyers worked for years to train them—are afraid of losing them to the fire. The creatures love fire, are reckless, and hard to control. Although, exposure to fire won’t hurt them, it will hurt their riders.”
David asked, “Do you have enough of them to train to really help with the forest fires?”
Yes, hundreds live near the fire mountains; but they’re dangerous, hard to catch, an
d ```even harder to train. It takes years to domesticate them and, even then, they remain a danger to their rider and extremely hard to handle. If we could find a way to protect the riders, the few we have would be of greater help in the fires.
“On ship, we have clothing allowing men to go into flames without harm. With proper breathing apparatus and clothing, your men could swoop down without harm, if the dragons would take them.” They sat without moving until David felt his heart rate and breathing return to normal. He asked, “Why did they endanger the frydracos and themselves today?”
“Two royal sons.”
Chapter Eight
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ARGEL - Book One - Planet of Refuge Page 7