“When we have seen it all, we will depart, is that satisfactory?”
“I believe the kits would remain for a year or two,” Tarija said. “But the sky people have much to do, and will soon depart to return to their home.” To Lori she said, “We will depart on conclusion of one revolution, with your kind assistance.” She walked with Lori back to the food table, and said, “I will speak to my father about the Borrelia family.”
“I appreciate that. Now, is there anything more about the ship you, or your father, wish to see?”
“I wish to see it all again, and spend many brights learning about such a marvel. But this introduction will give us much to remember and talk about for a long time.”
Before departing, Lori agreed, again, to visit the Princess at her home in Tajmyr, the next bright.
Later, looking at her calendar with Tari and Hunter, she realized she would not be leaving anytime soon. No, the days were stretching out ahead, each starting to fill up with something.
“Well, what’d you expect?” Hunter said. “You are the Sky Lady, you know.”
Chapter 27 - Val D’or
Princess Tarija lived in a lavish, if not large, walled compound many kilometers to the south of the king’s castle. Here spring was well along, and green grass and many colorful flowers and trees greeted Lori as she, Hunter and Eric, and Tari, with Nif and Dayu, stepped out of her air car.
The kits raced to greet each other, and with Tari and a small host of guardians, soon ran off to play somewhere in the compound.
Tarija, more formal, stood and met them, offering a royal hand in the alien’s tradition, and after a brief exchange of pleasantries, guided them into a nearby garden–a lush and lavish oasis of green and colorful plants, some in neat and orderly beds, other cascading up and over each other in an exuberance of new growth. Multicolored spring flowers bloomed in many places.
“This was my mother’s favorite place, and mine as well. During the, well, troubled times, this garden was my refuge and my chief occupation, though one I was not skilled in. Not as well as my mother, at least. My brother starved me, and my,” she tossed her head, “estate, and I barely had enough to get by on. But he left my garden alone, if did nothing to maintain it. Now, my father is lavishing attention on me, and I on it.” She paused as a gardener, pushing a small cart laden with uprooted plants, bowed to her and passed on.
“Gardening’s the same all over the universe, and dealing with the weeds a major issue,” Hunter said laughing, as they strolled along, which led to a discussion of how to best maintain the planting beds. Other gardeners paused in their work, a half a dozen or so, bowing to the Princess and her party, but saying nothing, no doubt forewarned of the impending visit of the strange looking aliens.
Princess Tarija apologized again for the sad condition of her garden, though Lori thought that it would surpass by far many, formal or not, on Earth, with the variety, size and number of plants, all now receiving attention after a long time of neglect. She told Tarija that, which seemed to please her.
The party wended its way along and around the garden, not quite a hectare, Hunter surmised, and back out a separate gateway. Tarija walked on, and led them to a bright, raised patio, overlooking a small, shallow pool where the kits now frolicked and played, and another, smaller garden. Tari arrived, to take Eric down to the shallow pool, with the rest of the kids. The parents sat beneath an open trellis, festooned with a vine in full blossom, which shed a faint flowery scent down into the spring breeze. To Lori’s surprise, Earth style chairs, with soft cushions, awaited them.
Quiet servants brought refreshments, including an elaborate coffee set, to the human’s further surprise. As they visited, Tarija began showing a number of videos and photos of herself, from youth to marriage, and her family.
The kits, soaking wet from the pool, raced past in a wild game, but soon slowed, and joined their mother for a snack nearby, politely sharing things with their guests. Tari brought a wet and naked Eric to the group, as well, trying to dry the squirming boy off.
“Your children are friendly, really darling,” Lori said, smiling.
“Yes. They are growing well, despite the loss of a father and years of deprivations from my brother,” Princess Tarija said.
“What of their other grandparents? Do they have any?” Hunter asked.
“Of them, they have a faint remembrance, but not clear. They have not seen them in many bright-clusters.”
“You are not friendly with them?”
“No, it is them...they grieve still for the loss of their son, and blame me. And perhaps the children, too. They say, I have heard, ‘Had Neosho not met her, he would be alive still.’ And no doubt they are right. But that is not how the life turns out.”
Lori thought about that, and Tarija added, “The relations between the provinces, once so improved, have now soured. I am sorry for that. And I miss them. As do the kits.”
“Where do they live? These other people?”
“Across the Northern Ocean. In the province of Cerskogo.”
“How did you meet your husband?”
“Ha. The marriage was arranged–to bring the provinces closer together. We were still quite young.” She looked up at Lori. “Though arranged, I soon came to love him. And he, me. That, perhaps was his downfall, coming here, living among us half the year, instead of remaining in his province. He treated me well, with respect and love. He doted on the kits. The people liked him, too, he was friendly, charming even, toward them. He became popular among my countrymen, and went out among them frequently. My brother saw that as a threat.” She stopped, and Lori said nothing. She said, “It was an accident, a helicopter falling into the snow. So it is said.” She paused again, looking sorrowful. “He, as I, is royalty. Yet now, after all, it only divided us further.” She looked at her children, sitting quietly and attentively, watching Hunter now holding the baby. “And it is my kits that suffer most.”
Lori looked at them, too, and said, “I would like to see more of this planet. I would like to see the province of Cerskogo. How would I arrange that?”
Tarija looked at Lori, her clear eyes unblinking. After a time, she said, “I cannot, they will not speak to me. But I know others who might.”
“Please ask if someone would do so. I, too, on my home planet, did not know one of my grandparents well. We are all the poorer for that. Too much time, too much distance...” Lori waved a hand.
“That is so here, too.”
“Yes, but it need not be any longer. Please, ask to make the arrangements. And first stop should be the ruler of the province. Tell them I wish to meet, and will bring visitors, important to them, to visit.”
“I will see to it personally.”
The kits sat impatiently for a few moments, and with a nod from their mother, flew off again in a flurry of shouts, to leap and play in the nearby pool once more, Tari and Eric hurrying to follow them.
Refreshments and conversation over, Tarija led her guest on a tour of the grounds, and the mansion, small by royal standards, yet immense to the people from Earth.
Lorelei, Hunter, their son, and the Princess Tarija and her kits flew east on the next bright. Two of Lori’s military air cars escorted them, others hovered overhead in high orbit. They crossed a wide sea, the water color growing progressively darker as they arced into the northeast. Passing a coastline, they flew high over developed lands, cities and farms a patchwork of winter colors beneath them. Only after crossing a ragged and bleak mountain range did they drop lower, and head toward the outskirts of a very large, sprawling city. They circled an estate, wide and manicured, if covered in a layer of snow, the whole area inside a tall, stone wall. Cleared, black roadways ran here and there between buildings, homes, and barns for the most part. The Palace of Val D’or, an impressive mansion on a small rise overlooking an ice bound lake –Hunter called it a castle–sat brooding in the grey day.
The princess seemed very nervous, and slouched down in the air car as they
slowed, and landed on a wide oval before the main doors to the mansion. As soon as they touched down, with the escorts hovering behind them in the air, the front doors of the mansion opened, and several servants, apparently, rushed out, and unrolled a dark maroon carpet over the snowy roadway. Lori noticed a TV crew to the far side of the entry recording everything. Several musicians hurried into a formation to the left of the steps, and began to play a solemn tune. Six additional people marched out in a military fashion, and formed an honor guard near the doorway.
Lori slid the canopy back, and dropped the steps. Fiercely cold air rushed in. She stood up in Eagle One, and waited. Her breath streamed away in the wind.
A distinguished looking, very well groomed native slowly emerged from the massive wooden doorway of the mansion, wearing an elaborate sash of rank. An equally impressive female walked to his left. They descended the short steps, and stopped.
Lori left Eagle One and walked toward them, wearing a coat, bundled against the cold. An Anawoka, dispatched from one of the lighters, drifted down, landed near the king and queen, and folded its wings, ready to translate.
Lori introduced herself, using the incredible listing of rank and accomplishments V’Ming had suggested. The Anawoka translation went on for minutes, she noticed, but ended. King Angara introduced himself, an equally if not longer, and nearly as elaborate, list of titles and honors passing in the cold air. He next introduced his wife, Queen Sayan.
The king said, without delay, “Honored Sky Lady, you have brought a spouse, an heir, and guests to meet us, also?”
Lori said, “Yes,” and called Hunter out. The king and queen made suitable, and not at all aristocratic fussings over the baby, all bundled in the cold, after introductions once Hunter joined them.
Lori said, “Your Highness, if I may impose, I have brought to see you two young people, who very much miss you. Will you give them audience?”
She saw the queen start, and grab the king’s arm, and both looked toward the air car. King Angara said, “Yes,” and waited. Lori waved to the air car, and two kits emerged slowly, shyly, and stopped at the bottom of the steps, unsure of what to do, their steamy breaths puffing out at short intervals. Lori beckoned them forward, but they took only a few steps before the queen, keening low in her throat, began walking toward them, then went faster, and closed the distance in a rush, her arms open, calling the kits’ names. They rushed to her, and she to them, dropping to her knees, and they embraced. The king, too, hurried forward, bent to pick up each of the kits, holding them aloft, and saying loudly their names, and how they have grown, for the TV, perhaps.
The music had stopped, everything lay still all about, just the sounds of the joyful reunion to be heard. The queen cooed to the kits, who whined back to her, holding her, licking at her face.
Lori and Hunter stood quietly, the cold seeping into their bodies, even through their heavy coats. After a while, the king returned to them, and said, “You have brought to us a gift of immeasurable value. How did you do so?”
“It is our nature,” Hunter said.
“The mother allowed this? Why?”
“Because she thought the kits should see their beloved grandparents. And they, the kits.”
“She is most generous.”
“She regrets the distance between you. And she wants you to know that she grieves for your son to this day, and always will.”
“She is a true princess. Now, when next you see the mother, you must tell her, we grieve still, and for the loss of her kind companionship, as well. For too long, we have been apart.”
“You might do that yourself, now, if you wish,” Hunter said, and motioned to the air car.
He raised his hand, and Princess Tarija, peering over the top of the side of the air car, slowly rose, and stood in the doorway.
Instantly, the king stood alert, threw his hands wide, and yelled, “She is returned! The Princess Tarija is returned. Great is this day!” He pointed toward the musicians, and said, “Her music, now.”
After a couple of false starts, squeaks and pips from the instruments, the bright and fancy melodic tune began, hesitantly at first, then more loud and forceful, and the king walked quickly toward the princess. She descended the steps of the air car, and waited.
King Angara stopped before her, and bowed deeply, sweeping the air with one of his arms. She knelt on the carpet before him, lowering her head. The TV crew rushed forward, but stood a little distance away.
“Arise, Princess Tarija,” the king said, holding out a hand. “And welcome to the land of Cerskogo. For far too long, the province has stood barren and cold from your absence. Now it will warm and bloom once more, for you have returned, with your children. Great is the day of your return. And the Sky People have brought you. Come, come inside, we must celebrate, and tell all the people.” He turned to his wife, and the rest of the gathering, and shouted once more, “All Hail, the Princess Tarija has returned. Long live Princess Tarija.” He held an arm out, and the princess took it with her hand, and slowly walked toward the group. She stopped and curtseyed to the queen, who immediately embraced her for a long hug, murmuring things Lori could hardly hear, and the Anawoka did not translate. Just as well. Then they led them all back inside, the kits’ hands firmly held by one of the proud grandparents.
Just inside the doorway, the king shouted numerous orders to a bevy of staff standing by, an obvious well rehearsed reception thrown to chaos by the unexpected arrival of the royal grandchildren, and their mother. Within minutes, the king ordered a line of march, he and the queen, with the princess between them, and one of her kits to either side, followed by Lori and Hunter, and their Anawoka translator, and then the other high dignitaries of the kingdom, who called and waved to the princess, seeking her attention. They would march forward into the huge ballroom and right into history, Hunter said, watching the plans. The king and queen donned golden crowns, and threw gold and silver capes over their backs. They fussed until one arrived for the princess, too, that of glittering, sparkling silver.
“We’ll all be live on TV in a minute, I gather,” Hunter said. “Man, Lori, you never cease to do amazing things.”
She looked at him, and said, “It’s my nature.” They shared a brief chuckle, before the king called loudly for order, and the line began to move.
The entrance was beyond anything Lori ever expected. Music, driving, loud music from a hundred instruments, or more, four kits dropping scented flower pedals before the procession, an honor guard lining the path, each of whom bowed, falling to their knees as they passed, and hundreds of prominent citizens and courtesans jammed, packed together, heads bobbing and twisting to get a look at the tall humans, aliens in their midst, all under the close and continuous scrutiny of boom mounted TV cams.
Nervous aides guided Lori and Hunter to human-scaled benches, covered in soft cushions, to the right of the immense and gold gilded low platform on the raised dais of the king and queen. They stood, and held high the hands of the princess. Again, a fanfare, a loud flourish, and immediately the music played, her music, and everyone there, and all watching throughout the province, knew who stood there. The king himself lifted one of the kits in his arms, held it high, carrying it on one arm, took the hand of the other, and marched around with the princess on his other arm, nodding and calling to those nearby. As they went, the crowd waved and shouted greetings to the princess.
With everyone finally settled on the dais, and the kits at his feet, the king raised his arms, to instant silence in the hall. He began a speech, a welcome to the guests, to the princess, to the kits, and to all the alien visitors, with a nod and thanks to the Anawoka for translating to their guests. His joy, his demeanor, excitement and pride and pleasure, permeated his talk, infectious in the room, loud calls of support and cheers met nearly every one of his sentences.
Soon, he stopped, let the queen add her words of welcome, which faltered, emotions overwhelming her at the mention of her grandchildren, and daughter-in-law, feare
d lost, at least missing from her life, so long, all these many brights. The queen introduced Lori next, repeating the honorific, from memory, she thought, having heard it only once outside. Amazing.
Total hush in the room, as Lori stood, bowed to the king and queen, and Princess Tarija.
Her speech was short and well rehearsed, she spoke slowly, and noticed her words rang out into the room, and the Anawoka only translated when she paused. Several TV cams hovered not far off, above her face, each locked onto her. She repeated the reason for her trip, her expedition here, the offers to trade, and the invitation to join in peaceful travel and exploration, within the cluster, and beyond, too. A roaring cheer greeted that line.
Lori introduced Hunter, and her baby. Hunter rose, and held Eric high, he now wrapped lightly in a small blanket, the room felt cool to the humans, still. The blanket fell from his hands, to reveal the short legs, and arms, as the baby wiggled and fussed in the bright lights, all relayed world-wide on TV. They sat once more, to prolonged cheering.
King Angara welcomed Princess Tarija again, with a brief paean of sorrow and loss, but warming at her return, and praise again for the Sky Lady for bringing her here, with her darling kits.
The princess stood and waited and waited for the cheering to diminish, and spoke in a soft voice, a tinge of sorrow, and apology for being absent so long. She promised to return as often as she could, if that is their desire, that the kits might grow up in the two provinces, and be enriched by the lessons and cultures from each. Again, the long cheering when she returned to squat near the queen, who hugged her tightly.
When quiet settled once more, King Angara announced the time for his gifts for the visitors from the stars, and a parade of goods that amazed and astounded Lori began: an elaborated decorated china set, glassware to complement it, a golden necklace, with a large, ruby-red jewel in the center, and a carved box, of patterned wood, to store it in, a larger chest of highly polished dark wood, each object as fabulous, and unique as the one before it. Some special items for Hunter, too, medallions and a belt with golden highlights. Part way through, Lori clicked on her phone, and said, “Morales, he’s worthy, standby to bring in the gift, I’ll need it.”
T-47 Book II (Saxon Saga 6) Page 54