by Vicky Savage
The question makes me smile. I squeeze the arm he holds around my waist. “I really don’t think a man of your size needs to learn to fight like that. You have other advantages. I don’t see why you couldn’t learn, though. You’re athletic enough.”
“I believe it might be of some use if I ever find myself unarmed against multiple opponents again. You may not always be available to rescue me.”
“Good point.”
“I shall speak to Ralston about it when we arrive at the Enclave,” he says.
Oh great! Ralston’s going to be thrilled with me. He has two new Tae Kwon Do students. For all I know, he knows nothing about the martial art other than what he learned from me.
THIRTY-TWO
My heart beats faster when the white stucco walls surrounding the Enclave come into view. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen my Connecticut dad, and the things I’ve heard about my Domerican father have made me eager to meet him. I’m nervous about seeing him for the first time, though. I hope he doesn’t spot me as an impostor.
A large, double wooden gate marks the entrance to the Enclave. As we approach, Drew shouts, “Nathan, open up. It’s Andrew and Princess Jaden. We’ve come to see Father.”
A small door set in the larger gate opens, and a grizzled, white-whiskered face peers out. “Greetings Prince Andrew! Welcome,” the old man says in a surprisingly robust voice. “The Governor has been expecting you.” The small door closes and the gates open slowly inward.
A broad tree-lined avenue paved in cobblestones stretches out before us. Purple and yellow flowers bloom in well-tended beds arranged down the length of both sides of the street. The buildings lining the street are all of a similar Victorian style and appear to be freshly painted in pastel hues with white trim. Everything looks clean and new. It occurs to me that the entire village must be only ten to fifteen years old, since my parents couldn’t have been separated for longer than that.
According to Ralston, the Enclave is its own little country within Domerica—not subject to its laws or my mother’s rule. These were the terms of her separation with my father.
As we enter the town, the roads are empty. Only a few people with umbrellas scurry along the sidewalks, and I assume that, as in Warrington Village, most people use the hours from three to five on rain days for having tea or taking a siesta.
We make a right turn down a tree-lined lane that leads to a large Victorian mansion. I figure this must be Father’s manor house. As we draw nearer, I see my father standing on the veranda. I can’t help but smile at the sight of him. He’s striking in his Domerican-style of dress: a puffy sleeved white shirt, black pants, and knee-high riding boots. His hair is a bit longer than it is back home, and he’s sporting a closely-trimmed beard. He looks downright handsome.
We stop the horses near the foot of the stairs. Ryder helps me out of the saddle, and I run up the steps to give my father a soggy but heartfelt hug.
“Jade, it’s good to see you,” he says. “I expected you before rainfall. Why are you late?”
Drew, who had come up the stairs behind me, answers for me. “We got into a little scuffle with a band of highwaymen, about five miles from here. They got away with two of our horses.”
“Was anyone hurt?” Father asks, alarmed. “Jade, is that blood on your trousers?”
“It’s not mine, Father.”
“None of us was hurt,” Drew tells him. “But Jade inflicted quite a bit of damage on the ruffians. You should have seen her, Father. She nearly fought them off single-handedly.”
Father’s brow creases. “What’s this?”
“Nothing, Andrew exaggerates,” I say, frowning at Drew. “There were at least a dozen of them. We all had our hands full.”
“Well, come inside all of you.” Father puts an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get you dried off.” A stack of towels sits just inside the door, and he hands one to each of us. “Andrew, have your men take your horses to the stables. And ask Peter to unload the wagon, please.”
“Yes, Father,” Drew says, skipping back down the steps to speak to his men.
Dad turns to Ryder and Ralston. “Young Blackthorn, it’s good to see you again.” He shakes Ryder’s hand. “And you must be Professor Ralston. I’ve heard many good things about you. I am indebted to you for coming to Jaden’s rescue. Welcome to the Enclave.”
“Thank you, Dr. Beckett, and please call me Ralston.” The two men shake hands.
“I shall, if you will call me John,” Father replies.
We towel ourselves off at the foot of an elegant marble staircase. The entry hall is paneled in dark mahogany. The furnishings are heavy and masculine.
“Let’s see to your comfort first,” Father says. “Afterward, we shall have tea in the library, if you like.
“Erica,” he calls.
A smiling, dark-haired young woman emerges from a door to the right of the staircase. “Ah, your guests have arrived,” she says in a husky voice.
Her face is striking and unusual, with slanted dark eyes and full, sensual lips. She wears a simple white blouse and a straight black skirt, neither of which conceals her stunning figure. I’m momentarily taken aback—is this my dad’s girlfriend?
“Jaden, you remember Erica Hornsby, Captain and Missus Hornsby’s daughter? She is helping me by running the household while her mother is visiting relatives in Cupola de Vita.”
I pretend to remember Erica, the housekeeper’s daughter, whom I’ve evidently met before. I smile and say, “Hi.”
She bows her head slightly.
“Erica, this is Professor Ralston.” Erica makes a small curtsey. “I believe you already know young Blackthorn.”
“Of course.” She beams and steps toward Ryder. “Chief Blackthorn, I am happy to see you again. How is your arm?” She lays a long-fingered hand lightly on his right forearm.
“Much better, thank you,” Ryder says smiling back at her, “and it’s Ryder, please.”
“Erica will take you to your rooms, so you can freshen up,” Father says. “Jaden, I’ve changed some things around since you were last here. I’ve moved you into the room across from mine. It is larger and I think you’ll find it more comfortable. Erica will show you.”
Ralston, Ryder, and I follow Erica’s tight skirt up the stairs.
“Tea in one hour,” Father calls after us. “No rush.”
The first stop is my room. Erica opens the door and ushers me in. “It is very lovely, yes? Your father has impeccable taste.”
It’s beautifully decorated in cream and aqua colors. While much smaller than my rooms at the palace, it’s still spacious enough for a desk, sitting area, and large mahogany four-poster bed. “It’s perfect” I say. “I love it.”
She turns to go. “Where are their rooms?” I ask.
“Oh, just down the hall. Not far at all.” I don’t know whether it’s her playful smile, her sensuous voice, or strictly my imagination, but everything she says sounds suggestive to me—like it has a double meaning. She closes my door and I experience a little pang of jealousy. I’m not sure I want her showing Ryder to his room. They’ve obviously met before, and shared some experience having to do with Ryder’s arm.
I open the door a crack and peer out, watching the three of them walk down the hall. Erica glances over her shoulder, catching me spying, and I quickly retreat back into my room.
My boots and riding clothes are caked with mud and blood, so I need a change of clothes. My trunk is still in the wagon, but a few of the princess’ things hang inside the closet, and I select a pretty, but simple lilac dress. I spend a little extra time on my hair, hoping that the contrast between the ravishing Erica and me won’t be quite so noticeable.
I’m a few minutes late for tea, and when I reach the library Drew, Ralston, and Father are already sipping drinks, eating sweets, and deep in conversation. Actually, Drew is monopolizing the conversation by recounting, for the millionth time, our skirmish with the tree men.
I pour myself t
ea and pluck a blueberry tart from the tray. “Oh, Drew, give it a rest. I don’t think Father wants to hear all of this, and I definitely don’t want to hear it again.”
“Actually, I’m finding it rather entertaining,” Father says. “I understand you’ve gotten quite good at hand-to-hand combat. But where was your sword?”
“Oh, well, Ryder was unarmed, so I threw it to him. He was being attacked by two men.”
“Why was he unarmed?”
“Your son wouldn’t allow him to join us otherwise,” I say.
“Where is Blackthorn, by the way?” Drew asks.
“He went to the lumber yard,” Father says, “to arrange for a load of lumber to take to Unicoi tomorrow.”
“Father, I can’t believe you are allowing Jade to go. Mother would be furious if she knew.”
“I’m quite certain you’re right Drew, but Jaden makes up her own mind about things—in case you haven’t noticed. Personally, I don’t believe it’s such a bad idea. She’ll be safe with Chief Blackthorn, and it is my opinion that someone from Domerica’s ruling family should have made such a trip long ago, rather than relying on secondhand and potentially unreliable information.” Father eyes bore into Drew’s.
“Are you implying that I ought to go also?”
“That is for you to decide, Andrew. I would go with Jaden, but I can’t be absent from the Enclave at the moment. We have two very ill patients in the hospital, and I cannot risk leaving them. Perhaps you would be less worried about her if you went along. I know I would be.”
Drew looks chagrined. “Do you actually trust this Blackthorn character?”
Father rubs the back of his hand along his whiskered jaw and nods. “I do, Drew. I’ve known him and his father for years. They are men of honor. Ryder made a foolish mistake attempting to kidnap Jaden, but he acknowledges that, and he seems truly remorseful. I believe Jaden agrees with me.” He cuts his eyes to me. I smile and bob my head.
“Jade has been taken in by his charm,” Drew says. “I don’t trust her opinion on this.”
“Drew!” I say.
Father holds up a hand for peace. “Your sister’s always been a shrewd judge of people, Andrew. I wouldn’t brush off her estimation of Blackthorn’s character so lightly.”
“I’m sorry,” Drew says. “But I believe he has unduly influenced her.”
“Ralston, what do you think?” Father asks. “Would this trip be an educational experience for young Andrew or just a boondoggle?”
Ralston sets his cup and saucer on the table. “I believe a trip to Unicoi would be most enlightening, a very good use of time for Prince Andrew.
“And what of Blackthorn?” Father asks.
“I trust him completely.”
“There you have it, Andrew. You may go to Unicoi or stay here, as you wish. I ask only that you not alarm your mother by running off to tell her where Jaden has gone until she has returned safely to Domerica.”
“I’m no snitch, Father. I’d like to think about it overnight, though.”
“That’s reasonable,” Father says, standing. “Well, I’ve promised Ralston a tour of our little hamlet now that the rain has stopped. Would either of you care to join us?”
“Yes!” I say, excited to see the pretty little town, and glad for a distraction while Ryder is away.
“I have some things to attend to,” Drew says. “What time’s dinner?”
“Seven o’clock,” Father tells him. “I’ll just clear this up, and we’ll be on our way.” He begins stacking the empty tea cups on the tray.
“Let me help you with that, Father,” I offer, picking up the tray. “Has Erica gone home?”
“Oh no, she has a room here. I sent her out with Ryder to do an errand for me near the lumber yard. They will return in time for dinner.”
* * *
The Enclave village is more modern-looking than Warrington Village, but it still has the quaint charm of a small New England community. The shopkeepers and tradesmen are cordial and welcoming to us. No one seems particularly impressed with having a princess in their midst, which is just fine with me. They’re far more excited to see Governor Beckett—Father’s official title here. It’s nice being out of the spotlight for a change.
Father is animated, obviously getting a charge out of showing Ralston the many points of interest in the village. He seems proud of his community and its inhabitants. We stop in many of the little shops, so Father can pay his respects to the proprietors.
Under normal circumstances I’d be having a terrific time seeing all this, but instead I find myself in a jealous snit because Ryder and Erica are off together somewhere. Someone once said: He who is jealous is not in love. I guess that means if I really loved Ryder I’d want him to hook up with Erica so he’ll be happy when I’m gone. My heart doesn’t work that way, though. It whimpers like a spoiled child at the thought of Ryder being with anyone but me. I have a sneaking suspicion whoever coined that phrase was never really in love.
We stop inside a hat shop so Ralston can check out the latest styles. I’m not much interested in bowlers, boaters, and berets, so I stare out the window and chew on my lower lip wondering where Ryder is right now.
As we’re leaving, Father says, “Ralston, I would like to show you our library. I believe you will be pleasantly surprised by some of the rare volumes we possess. Our pre-Disaster section is larger even than that of Domerica’s main library.”
“I would be most delighted to visit your library,” Ralston says. “I’ve heard of your impressive collection. I’d love to see it for myself.”
“I need to make a quick stop at the apothecary to pick up a tonic for one of my patients,” Father says. “I’ll meet you two on the main floor of the library. Jade will show you the way.”
Ralston and I exchange amused glances, since I obviously don’t have the vaguest idea where the library is located.
“I believe it is at the end of the next block, is it not?” Ralston asks, pointing to a large granite building.
“Indeed it is,” Father says. “I’ll see you there in twenty minutes.”
As Ralston and I turn up the street toward the library, a cluster of odd looking people appear in the walkway a short distance ahead. They’re dressed in flowing white robes and each has very long, straight, white hair—men and women alike. I count a half-dozen of them in all.
I tug at Ralston’s sleeve. “Who are they?” I ask.
“Ah, I see the Cleadians are in town. This could be a bit awkward, my dear. Perhaps we should make a small detour into one of the shops.” His eyes dart up and down the block.
“They’re coming this way,” I say apprehensively.
“Yes, I’m afraid they’ve spotted us. It’s all right Jade. They will know you are not the princess. They will not expose you, however, as they do not wish to be exposed themselves. They’re not mind readers per se, but they can read a person’s essence with just a touch of the hand.”
“What? Who are they?”
“Actually they originate from the planet Cleadies,” he whispers. “Their ancestors were stranded on this earth when the Great Disaster ruined their spacecraft.”
“They’re aliens?”
“Keep your voice down. That fact is not widely known. The story for public consumption is that the Cleadians are descendents of survivors from a town in Nova Scotia, who migrated to this area after the Great Disaster. They inhabit a colony about five miles outside of Domerica.”
As the troupe draws nearer, Ralston puts a protective arm around my shoulder. “Steady, old girl,” he whispers.
They stop directly in front of us, and an elderly man carrying a long staff steps forward from the rest. I’m struck by his milky blue eyes. On second look, they all have unusual, milky blue eyes.
“Professor Ralston, what a pleasant surprise,” the old man says. “We did not expect to see you here.”
“Nor I you, Melor,” Ralston replies. “I trust you are well.”
“Quite well.
And you?”
“Just enjoying a small tour of the Enclave.”
“Delightful. And who is your lovely companion?” he asks, turning his milky orbs toward me.
“May I present the Crown Princess Jaden Beckett. Princess, this is Melor Thaddeus, elder of the Cleadian colony.
I offer my hand in greeting. He takes it in his own, and bows. Instantly, his head snaps up, his eyes wide in astonishment.
“Ah, but I believe you are trying to fool an old man,” he says, an amused smile creasing the wrinkles of his face. “I see you are a long way from home, young one.”