by Dale Furse
“Trevel,” Mike answered.
“I’ve never heard of this place, Trevel,” the one who called himself a prince said. His gaze turned to the man sitting on a white horse.
That man was not dressed for a hunt. His red cape draped over his horse’s rump, and red and white feathers poked out of a small green cap on his head. The man looked like he had stepped right out of a King Arthur movie. The corners of his mouth twitched at if he tried not to smile, and his eyes, though clear blue, weren’t hard or cold like the red-haired man’s brown eyes.
Maybe he and Terni had interrupted some movie. It would fit with the pink-treed forest. He scanned the area but couldn’t see any cameras. Could be a rehearsal. He wondered about the daylight when it was night in Trevel. Not a movie set, a small voice at the back of his mind warned.
“From their speech, Father, I think they are peasants from the mountain region,” Prince Ludo said to the fancy dressed man.
“Yeah, right, peasants.” Mike looked at the other two men still on horseback. “I guess you lot haven’t heard of Trevel either?”
The older man chuckled. “No, young man, we have not. However, you seem confused, and you and your young friend are attired in an odd manner. Perhaps you have hit your head and you need to rest. Is your home far?” He appeared to be seriously concerned for Mike’s well being.
A movement from the last man in the group caught Mike’s attention. He rode a brown horse and wore a smooth leather tunic with trousers pushed into soft leather boots. He did look like a hunter as he pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and loaded his bow. Mike stepped back closer to Terni. The man didn’t take aim, but let the bow fall to his side.
“Where is this Trevel?” Ludo said.
Mike pointed to the place where the wall had been. He must have looked stupid, but he couldn’t help himself. He stood, staring and pointing at nothing.
Terni pressed even closer to Mike’s side and burst into tears again.
Mike jolted out of his paralysis. “Stop it,” he said. “You sound like my baby brother.”
A shiver of excitement washed through him as he scanned the riders once more. He had to be in Zandell, the place his mother had stepped through the door to Earth from.
Should he tell these people how he and Terni had come to be there? No. His mother had always said she escaped from Zandell. He glared again at Ludo. That was the name of the man who had attacked her and Micah. Anyway, if he said anything, they would think he was insane. Bending down, he whispered in Terni’s ear, “Shh, it’ll be all right. Just keep quiet.”
“Your Majesty, it’s getting late. We must make our way back to camp before night falls,” the hunter said. His accent was similar the others, although, more like the girl. More Irish sounding.
The man gave the king a small bow of his head. Mike’s eyes widened. Was he really a king? If they were acting, they were the best Mike had seen for a long while.
The king gazed up at the sky. “Yes, yes, come along now,” he waved a finger at the boys. “You also.”
Mike glanced at Terni. Should they stay or follow? He regarded each, one by one. The king looked reasonably amiable and if the others thought he was the king, they would listen to him. Mike felt a little better, not much, but a little.
The prince still squinted down his long nose at Mike. Mike looked the young woman up and down. Her light brown hair shone in the fading sunlight, and her hazel eyes regarded him as a curiosity.
“Come, Noor, the Mashki’ll be stirring soon,” the hunter continued, his eyes darting in all directions.
Mike frowned. Whatever Mashkies were, they had the hunter nervous.
“Yes, Father,” Noor said, and mounted her horse.
Ah, that’s why they sounded similar—he was her father. And her name’s Noor. Nice.
Ludo leapt on his horse in a single bound.
Unimpressed by Ludo’s show, Mike turned to where the wall had been just minutes earlier. Still nothing. He gritted his teeth. They couldn’t go back. He looked at the darkening sky. If the Mashki were nasty enough to have a big hunter type worried, Mike did not want to meet them.
“You will follow,” Noor said. “We won’t be traveling far.”
Terni kept close to Mike. As the kid’s fingers brushed his, Mike moved his hand away. The kid’s shoulders slumped, and although Terni bowed his head, Mike knew tears had started to flow again. He sighed and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll find your home.”
Had he told Terni the truth? Mike hoped so; he also hoped they wouldn’t go too far from where the wall of doors disappeared.
They followed the horses over the same rise Terni had come from earlier and walked down a long bluff. The trees, sparse at first, thickened further on. The sounds of babbling water floated to Mike’s ears before he spied a shallow stream, so clean he could make out the pebbles sitting on the bottom. He hadn’t seen the trees from the plain, not even any green tops. He and Terni had arrived on a plateau.
A young girl appeared from behind some bushes carrying an armful of sticks. Mike guessed she was about his age, maybe a little younger. Her tunic and trousers were similar to the other woman’s attire except lighter, and they looked a little large—as if she hadn’t grown into them yet. She piled the sticks in a cleared space.
Once everyone came together on the bank and dismounted, the hunter released the packs and saddles from the horses.
The younger girl stayed by her sticks, but did not take her eyes off the group. Her fair hair was streaked as if she had spent a lot of time in the sun. Although she had divided the long strands into two plaits over her ears, wisps of yellow fell loose from her temples. Her eyes were a color Mike had never seen before—light brown with a hint of yellow, more topaz than brown.
She was the most beautiful girl Mike had ever seen, and not a trace of the makeup the girls in Trevel smothered over their faces. She stared so hard at Mike he worried she could read his mind. As if she had, and although she was shorter than Mike, she looked down on him.
The king sat in front of a large red and cream tent a small way from where Noor tended a fire.
Mike heard the girl ask Noor who the kids were, but he didn’t hear the answer. He gave the girl what he hoped was a scornful look and focused his attention on the male hunter, rubbing the horses down with a thick green cloth while they drank from the stream.
Ludo entered a smaller version of the king’s tent, obviously not interested in joining the others.
Terni stayed close while Mike wondered where the others slept. He didn’t know whether he should offer to help or wait to be told what to do. Not knowing what else to do with his hands, he folded his arms.
Noor said something to the girl who shook her head and took a step away. Laughing, Noor grabbed the girl’s arm and pulled her toward Mike and Terni. “Boys, this is Vala.”
“I’m Mike, and the little guy is Terni.” She was a beauty, but he tried not to look impressed. She didn’t seem as taken with him as the girls at the cafe were.
“Come here, boys,” the king called, throwing two cushions on the ground. “Sit with me.”
“Hurry, go,” said Noor.
Mike glanced at Vala. Her eyes were full of questions, but she still kept quiet. He nodded to Terni and joined the king. They each took a cushion while the king’s large form covered two.
“How did you come to be on my land?” the king asked.
“I don’t know,” Mike said. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Noor and Vala in hushed conversation.
“I was lost,” Terni said. “Mike found me. He was taking me home and now we are both lost.” Tears once more welled in his eyes. “My ma and da will think I’m dead.”
“Now, now,” the king said. “You’re safe here.”
The king’s smile relaxed Mike. Maybe he could trust the man with the truth. He inspected the king’s face. Hard lines furrowed his forehead and between his pale blue eyes. His hair, closely clipped mustache, and beard were
all grey. The man before him, although smiling, appeared to be in a constant state of worry. The embedded frown didn’t budge, even when he laughed at Terni trying to stifle a yawn.
“You are exhausted, child,” the king said. “How far have you traveled?”
Terni said, “Only to Mike’s wor—” he glanced at Mike, “um, home and then here. But I have not slept for a long time.”
The king’s brows rose a little at Terni’s words, but the man covered any surprise he might have had with a look of concern for the boy.
Mike could always read peoples’ faces. Like when his teacher was pleased with him, even though he would never show it in a million years. Or when his mother pretended to be cross at him for some misdemeanor, but her eyes always told him she was actually amused. She would put on a good act, and Mike would pretend to believe her. The king definitely knew Terni had nearly said, “World”.
“Noor will have something for us to eat in a little while. Then you can sleep.”
As the king bent forward and messed up Terni’s hair, Mike noticed Prince Ludo disappear around the side of his tent.
“I am King Horace of Zandell, the largest kingdom on Cillian, and the fifteenth son of the house of Creal,” he said. “However, that is a bit of a mouthful. You can call me King Horace, Sire, or Your Majesty—whichever you prefer.”
The man was not kidding. His voice sounded natural, not forced or fake in any way. Mike wondered again if he was dreaming.
The king gazed at Mike as if waiting for something.
“Oh, sorry, um, King Horace. I’m Mike, and the kid’s name is Terni.”
King Horace’s eyes took on a far away look. “Mike, Micah. Terni, Ternith,” the king said more to himself than to the boys while regarding them with searching, calculating eyes.
Mike started at his look and the mention of Micah, his father’s name. At the same time, he thought he heard a quiet gasp from the other side of the tent. He jerked his head in that direction but saw nothing. He swung around to where Noor and Vala knelt by the pot over the fire. The hunter stood behind them. All three faced the king with expressions of surprise.
The king’s whole demeanor changed and his eyes glistened wet. He sat straight and stiff.
“Your names are very much like the names of my twin sons.”
“You have twin sons?” asked Mike.
“I had twin sons. Micah and Ternith. They are dead.”
“Oh,” was all Mike could think to say. He wanted to remember all his mother had told him—her special bedtime stories about the place she came from. Think, think.
His real father had a twin brother, Ternith. What if Micah and Ternith didn’t stay on their world as his mother had said? His mother said she had walked through a door and found herself in a different place. Shit! What if Micah and Ternith went through a different door? He gazed at Terni. Maybe they all time traveled. If he wasn’t dreaming, if any of what was happening was true, his mother’s stories might also be true. Maybe Micah and Ternith landed in an entirely different Earth time. He looked at Terni. Maybe they went to Salteren.
Hang on. The king said his sons were dead.
“Micah is dead?” A dull pain mushroomed in Mike’s chest. If the king’s son and Mike’s real father were one and the same, Mike would never see or speak to his father. That was certain.
“Did you know him?”
“No.” And if they were talking about the same man, he never would. Maybe the king assumed his sons were dead. Mike glanced again at Terni. If Ternith was the kid’s father then one of the king’s sons must be alive
The king leaned forward, his tone harsh, demanding, “Where are you boys from? I want the truth.”
Terni must have noticed the shift because he moved backwards at the same time Mike did.
The king slammed his fist on the cushion. “Where are you from?”
Terni nudged closer to Mike, trying to squirm under his arm.
Noor moved to the king’s side. “Sire, you are scaring them.”
“What?” The king’s eyes cleared and he shook his head. He glanced at the now troubled face of Noor. “You are right.” He let out a heavy sigh. His shoulders fell as his attention returned to the boys. A long moment passed before he spoke again. His tone had softened somewhat when he did.
“I am sorry I scared you. Please, move back to your cushions and make yourselves comfortable. I will not harm you. However, I must have answers to my questions.” Gazing from one to the other, the king’s features shifted once again. Hope filled his eyes. “You had already heard the names of my sons before this day?”
Mike looked at Noor, whose expression was full of anticipation.
Vala regarded him as if she expected a lie. She tilted her head and her eyes said, ‘I dare you to tell the truth’.
Mike, more than willing to take up her challenge, slid back onto the cushion. Terni stayed where he was. “My real father’s name is Micah. I don’t know where he is, but my mother said he might be alive.” He pulled Terni forward and the boy trembled. “It’s okay, Terni, I’m here. What’s your father’s name?”
The little messenger peered up at Mike, and his eyes filled with trust and something else Mike did not like. He didn’t mind the kid trusting him. He just did not want the kid admiring him.
Facing the king, Terni said, “My father’s name is Ternith and he is alive.”
“Really?” said Mike. “Is there a Micah where you come from?”
Terni shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Mike’s heartbeats dulled. Dad is dead.
The king’s face wavered from hope to grief and back again.
“What does this mean?” he asked Noor. “Cornel,” his white face turned to the hunter, “what does this mean?”
The hunter had settled on his haunches by the fire. “Sire,” he said, standing. “It seems Derek had told the truth. Perhaps more questions?” He cocked his head toward the boys.
Derek. That was Mike’s baby brother’s name. They must be all the people from his mother’s stories. He strained to think. Yes. Derek was the name of his father’s youngest brother. He looked at the king. It wasn’t a coincidence.
“Yes, yes, you’re right,” the king said, rubbing his face with his hands. He regarded the boys. “Now, how did you come here?”
The king’s tone still wasn’t as friendly as it was earlier. Better not push his luck. They were in a strange land, and these people had weapons. He had read stories of kings and knights. They didn’t mind killing people in those days. And his mother had said she, his father, and Ternith were attacked.
He was going to get a headache trying to come to terms with what was going on. Either his mother had told the truth all along, or he had used the characters of his mother’s stories in a fantastic dream. Mike gazed at Terni’s feet once more. The stories about Mercury, the winged messenger, might be based on fact.
He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Might as well tell them everything. He had a few questions himself.
“I was just walking through the scrub behind my house,” he said. “That’s when I came across Terni. He said he was lost so I took him through a door in what I thought was, a newly built wall. I figured it would lead to his home. It didn’t, it led us here instead.
“Apparently this isn’t Earth, and Terni says he comes from somewhere called Salteren.” He glanced at Terni, who nodded that Mike’s pronunciation was correct. “I’m as bamboozled as you. None of this makes sense.”
“I’m guessing bamboozled means confused,” the king said with a smile, his eyes filling with hope. “I can understand how you would be. A wall of doors, you say?”
“Yes,” Mike said, “and Terni said he came through a door and ended up in the bush behind my house.”
“I did,” Terni said.
“You sound like you’ve heard of the wall before,” Mike said to the king.
“We will talk about the wall later. For now, Noor will serve the meal and we will talk of
Zandell. Perhaps we will all gain understanding before this night is over.”
Noor hurried to the pot and said something to Vala who nodded and grinned before helping dish up the meal.
Mike had the distinct impression Vala was saying, “I told you so” to Noor.
“Ludo,” the king called. “Now where can he have gone off to?” He shrugged. “Perhaps he’s already asleep.”
Mike didn’t think so, but said nothing about Ludo skulking at the side of the tent. It wasn’t his place to poke his nose in another family’s business, especially a royal family. The one thing on his mind at that moment was his father. How had he died? And why had Ternith gone through a different door than Mike’s mother?
Chapter 6
Hankley pushed the walls of the office out further with a wave of his arm to make room for a long couch. “We’ll check on the children before we do anything else,” he said, plopping down on the soft crimson cushions. The floor solidified into shiny silver.
“We can’t see them now,” Two said.
“It’s more comfortable this way,” Hankley said. “Looking down gives me a crick in the neck.” The wall opposite shimmered to life with an image of King Horace’s camp. “What’s Ludo doing hiding beside that tent?”
“It looks like he’s eavesdropping,” Shank Two said as his and One’s body sat beside Hankley.
“Yeah, he’s listening to what the boys are saying to the king.”
“Hmm, I think we’d better have some sound.” Hankley flicked his fingers.
Ludo crept around the back of the tent, squirmed under the loosely woven material and after brushing himself down, walked regally through the front flap.
“He’s up to something,” Hankley said.
“Shh,” Shank Two said, “I want to hear them.”
Hankley watched as surprise filled Mike’s face at the sight of Ludo and wondered if the older boy knew the prince was listening.
Ludo joined them around the campfire. “Have you made up your mind what you’re going to do with them, Father?” he asked, tilting his head toward the boys.
“Don’t you worry about them,” Horace said. “This fine, but spoiled, young man is my youngest son, Ludo.”