Preacher Man

by r. a. Ben Miller

Chapter 38; Final Peace

  “Aye, aye, your Grace. Strap in please. Bosun…sound the Jump!”

  “Aye, aye, Cap’m.” He hit a green button on his console. “Prepare for Jump mode” played throughout the vessel.

  Zeer and Paris strapped into seats at the back of the bridge. Paris connected to Mrs. T., “All set, Nana?”

  “Aye, Mrs. All kits firmly in their seats and at the ready!”

  Zeer nodded to the Capitain. He hit a switch on his console, and the Father Visitor’s barge leaped toward Emerand. In four jumps, they were in orbit, circling Emerand III, the traditional home world of his people.

  The Capitain turned to his Royal Guests and spoke, “Emerand III, yer Graces, orders?”

  “Two times around gently, Cap’m.”

  “By Your Command, your Grace.”

  Zeer and Paris went to the observation deck of Zeer’s office. He hit a switch on his desk and a wallsized portal lit up, “Ahhh, my Emerand. Let’s have a look at ya.” It was beautiful. He hit the send button, “Take us down.”

  He had expected to see the bombed out buildings that he had seen the last time he had sneaked home to find his mother and sister’s bones and bury them. That thirty cycles old memory was not what he saw today. Through the front screen, he saw a newly rebuilt inner city. Bombed out buildings had been cleaned up, leaving piles of bricks and cleared lots. Some of the lots had new homes being built on them. He smiled, “The returning population has been busy. And just look at Patrick’s Town. It’s a third of its original size, but a thing of beauty none the less.”

  “And it’s ours, ma sweet.”

  “Aye, it’ll be all ours if I kin get Shanny ta cooperate.” Tears flowed freely down his cheeks to see the work that Tristan had completed in the few short moons since she had started.

  “The Master’s hand leads thee.”

  “I’ll need Him more than ever, sweets.” She hugged him as the Patrick’s Town Space Port grew in the sensor screen.

  They walked out into the cool Emerish air. A huge crowd had gathered to meet the Royal Barge. They cheered as the couple came out. Zeer waved, “A grand day. Thanks fer comin’.”

  Janni and Trevor had made the trip. As soon as the ship touched down, they ran out a service portal before the Barge had even cooled from the descent. Janni quickly set up her equipment. Trevor was fussing around her, trying to help. They had done a feature on the coronation of King Praseer. Now, they hoped to reap the same ratings with shots of the homecoming of the Father Visitor, soon to be King of Emerand. Trevor turned to Janni, “Are ya filming, baby?”

  She looked hurt, “Yes, I learned long ago to keep a close eye on that boy. Aint I got us five ‘Newsie’ statues in the last two cycles?”

  He touched her face. She calmed to his electric touch. He looked sheepish. “Yes, dear, sorry.”

  Zeer knelt and kissed Emerish soil. He grabbed a handful and let it flow through his fingers, “The last time I touched this blessed soil, I was twenty cycles old. I will never be forced to leave here again. I will die here.” The crowd cheered some more.

  Tristan met them at the Space Port. She stood proudly in front of her Emerish work crews. That had been his request to her, that she only use local builders to teach them her skills. She had learned how to use more natural materials to build with.

  She bowed low, “Your Majesty.”

  He hugged her, “Get off it, Little Sister. I aint nothin’ but a simple priest.”

  “Aye…” she put on a fake brogue, “Thee be ourn Fightin’ Vicar, you is!”

  He let out a huge sigh, “You are incorrigible.”

  “Hell, Padre, I don’t even know what that word means.”

  “Well, Tris, whatever it means, me darling, you are it!”

  Paris pushed him aside and took over. She crooked her arm in the big cat’s arm, and they walked off, “Tris, we flew over the city coming in. You have done a smashing job. I canna believe that you built all of this without Terraplast, but with natural brick and wood.”

  “Ah, baby sister, thank the locals fer that. Over the past few cycles, this back water planet got less and less attention from the Imperium. People started drifting back in. They tore down buildings or they went among the old buildings and scavenged bricks and metal to make new ones. They harvested the woods from the trees that had overgrown since the war ran everyone off.”

  “Well, it’s beautiful now.”

  “Nothin’s too good fer you two.”

  They got into grounders and drove the wide boulevard through Patrick’s Town to the Emerald Castle. It was nearly complete. Giant cranes were lifting huge cut blocks along a far corner of the front wall. “I am sorry that I dint get this here done afore ya came, but this kinda buildin’ is all new ta me.”

  “Child, we have only begun as well. Emerald castle belongs ta me brudder as long as he lives. We still canna sit this throne til me brudder gives it ta me. That’s clan law. I will na break it.”

  “I understand. We have clans in our culture, too.”

  “It may take moons ta find him. Did ya build me a church?”

  “Better’n that!” She leaned forward to touch the driver’s shoulder, “Take us to St. Paddy’s.”

  “St. Paddy’s it is.” He turned a sharp left and headed around the corner. Zeer was shocked when they pulled up in front of a fine, old cathedral. For some reason, hardly any damage was done to this building in the shelling of the town. Priests had hidden in the woods and then come back and protected it from all comers.

  A fat little friar waited on the front step. His sweet faced little fat wife waited behind him, smiling. They bowed and kissed Zeer’s ring. “G’Day ta ya, your Grace. I am Father Paul MacTarn. This is my good wife, Sarah.” He turned and bowed to Paris. She smiled.

  “So…we’re cousins?”

  “Aye, Shannon III is me great uncle.”

  “Grand!” He grabbed the man in a bear hug. “I dinna think I had any relatives left. I shall need all the family that I kin find in the next days.”

  ”Because of the death warrants, me parents used the name MaLavish at first. After a while, no one paid us any heed. These days, thanks ta you, my bonny cousin, I get ta say me own name.”

  “And a grand name it is! I am stunned by this place, Father. Thee have much ta be proud of.”

  The old man blushed. Tears poured down his face. “I am the seventh Vicar of this parish since the war. I grew up in this building. I was schooled here, taught by the fathers and the holy sisters before me. I greet thee in their name.”

  “Really?”

  “Aye. Most died fighting all around these holy grounds, me Mum and me Dad among them. They fought and died right here on these steps these many decades ago. Those who lived, never lost faith. Not one service was missed. Morgen Tide and Even Song services have been held here every day prayin’ fer your return.”

  Zeer’s tears joined Paul’s on the old stone steps. When he could talk, he continued, “Thee has not prayed for my return, good father. It’s King Shannon IV we need. When King Shannon returns, it’s then that yer prayers will be answered.”

  “From your lips ta the Master’s ear, so mote it be.”

  “Have thee space fer me and ma family?”

  “We have kept a suite of rooms dedicated to the Father Visitor for more than seven hunnert cycles. Knowing you was comin’, me good wife and her sisters have cleaned it spic and span. Thee have plenty of room fer kith and kin. And there plenty of room now for thy staff now that people are moving out to the new homes being built. While they are fit fer a priest, I am not certain they are fit for a King, Sire.”

  Paris leaned in to the old man’s ear, “Dinna act daft, cousin. Are they fit for an old priest about ta retire, his good wife, and a few spare kittens?”

  The old man laughed at her use of the native brogue. “Aye, your Grace, quite fit.”

  She laughed with him, “Then, they will be perfect.”

  Suddenly, Father P
aul knelt and held the giant old key to the sacristy of St. Paul’s over his head. “I surrender the pulpit, and ye are welcome ta it.”

  Zeer lifted the old man easily, “No, my grand and glorious Brother in the Lord. While I will continue in the Master’s work, my work will have ta be done from Emerald Castle. I would like thee to continue your very fine work here as my Parish Priest.”

  “Til the Master calls me home, Father.”

  “As will I!” The two men embraced.

  “Now, let’s tour our new home.”

  “Yes…quite!” A beaming Father Paul and his good wife gave them a tour of their grand complex. The newcomers were most interested in an underground medical wing. Father Paul was most proud to show the underground infirmary to them, “This is where we cared for the few Emerish who escaped the diaspora lo these many cycles. People were living in caves and in the woods. They came to us for aid and birthings. We were a teaching order, your Grace, but we learned to be a medical one as well.”

  “The Master equips each who is called…never easy, always true. Faith is its own reward.”

  “Omain, yer Grace. Both me and the wife were born in these rooms, we was.”

  “They are well tested then. We will be honored to have the next set of wee bairns in the coming days.”

  The head nurse spoke up, “Aye, Sire…we been reading up on Par Cat…”

  Another nurse spoke, “Paronese…”

  The older woman blushed, “Sorry…Paronese birthings.” They all laughed, enjoying the beauty of the day.

  They set up housekeeping and then went to Even Song. They ate in the huge dining room with the other priests and their families. Every morning, Zeer took his flier out to look over the entire planet’s recovery. Industries were restarting. Mines were being worked openly. The newsies followed him everywhere at first. They soon became bored.

  By the third day, these flights seemed normal and the news flyers stopped following him. The fourth morning, as he was having his cuppa before heading out, Paris called him,”Preacher man?” Zeer ran to their apartment to find Paris rocking in a chair, “What is it, sweets?”

  Her voice was tiny and shaky, “I called Mrs. T. I think we need ta get to the medicos. Babies comin’!”

  Mrs. T. was already at the door. Father Paul and his wife were behind her, each holding one small boy’s hand. Mrs. T took over, “Dinna fesh yerself, baby girl, we been through this afore, and we’ll make it again. I already called. Medicos’ll be in a few ticks.”

  “Not a tick too soon, Nana!”

  “Father Paul, is there a short cut to thy birthing rooms”

  “Right this way.” Zeer scooped Paris up and carried her like a little doll to the lifts. One came immediately, and they dropped silently to the birthing floor of the medical wing. Medicos jumped out of a medical grounder from the ride to St. Mary’s Hospital. People from all sides were pouring into the birthing suite together. The medicos took over, and soon Paris was redressed, propped up in a birthing chair, and as comfortable as possible for the process to follow. “Luckily, Father,” said the first medico, “your kits are tiny, and the birth should be a breeze.”

  Half a lifetime later, he, Mrs. T. and Paris each held one of his daughters. “I dinna ken which is prettier. Each one that I hold steals ma heart,” he said.

  That night he fell asleep in the chair next to her bed and the three cribs. In the morning, he slipped out while she was still sleeping. Mrs. T. was coming down the hall. He spoke to her mentally, “I got some business. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Yer finally goin’ after yer brudder aint ya?”

  “It’s past time, Mrs. T! It’s got ta be settled.”

  “Aye. Be safe. Be blessed.”

  “Pray fer us.”

  “I could sense this. I was just upstairs at St. Paddy’s lightin’ a candle. It’ll burn til ya come back.”

  He hugged the tiny woman, “Did I ever tell ya what a treasure ya are, lass?”

  “Git on wi’ ya.”

  He laughed and headed for the Space Port to the flyer he had ordered. “Command?”

  “Aye, yer Grace?”

  “Goin’ out fer me usual constitutional.”

  “Do thee wish escort?”

  “Nobody cares about an old priest with too much curiosity.”

  “Be careful, Sire. Be blest!”

  “And thee…I am gonna take her up and test the new engines. I think I’ll do a lap around Abarth.”

  “No activity out that way for weeks. Have a good time.”

  “Roger that!” He felt sure that he knew exactly where his brother had gone to lick his wounds. In the early dawn light, he looked up to see the reflection of three moons. The center one was called Abarth. What he didn’t know was whether he could find the secret markers for the approach to the old Emerish Republican Army base after all these cycles. On this third orbit, just at the sunrise edge of Abarth, he saw the markers. He circled the moon carefully. He didn’t know how many ships would be on patrol guarding their King.

  After seeing no one and taking no fire from hidden blasters, he landed the small flyer on a rocky shelf of a hidden landing pad. Another vessel, showing blaster marks and a rather nasty looking hole, was crash landed on the far edge of the shelf. No other ships were present. “I hope I am na too late. Master…guide me, your humble servant. Omain!”

  He got into space gear, broke the flyer’s seals and slowly worked his way into his grand father’s hunting lodge. He gave the proper message to the locks. The door opened and went into the airlock. He shut it and reset the atmosphere. The inner door opened. There was Doggy’s wife, Beor, at the door. She was no longer the roly-poly funny girl that he remembered from their youth. She looked gaunt and haunted. Her clothes were torn, and she looked as if she had barely survived the firefight.

  She held a hand blaster leveled at his chest. “Your Grace,” she said evenly.

  “I’ve come to see the King.”

  “At least YOU know who he is. I dinna think he even does.”

  “Look, there’s na need fer guns, here. We’re old friends.”

  “Or old enemies. Which is it, ma wee Prince?”

  “No, Darlin. I choose friends. Enough Emerish blood has been shed.” He put his hands up, “Look! I’m not armed. The flyer isn’t armed. You don’t need that blaster. No one followed me. I bear a pardon from the Empra.”

  “Who is it?” roared a drunken voice down the rocky corridor. “Bloody bastards! Cant ya jest leave me lone!”

  He held out his hands, “Come on, Love. Let’s go take him home.”

  She said nothing. She thought a moment and motioned toward the throne room. Zeer lead her down a hallway that he could have navigated in blind dark. It opened into a large cavern. At the far end sat a thin figure watching reruns of Zeer’s homecoming on the viddy. It was the only light in the room. Zeer was heartbroken as he approached his brother. His one remaining eye was sunken to a black pit in the poor light. His hands were more like claws than ever before. Zeer knelt before his brother, “Your Majesty…”

  A raspy sound that would not be called a voice said, “You mock me, Your Holy Roman Frogger lovin’ Grace.”

  “No. It’s fer true, Shanny. I am so glad that I found thee alive.” He laid a piece of Lexite on the table in front of his brother, “I bring Thee an Imperial pardon.”

  “I don’t need a bloody pardon! I need me hands around that lyin bastard’s little green Imperial throat.”

  “Dinna act daft! Listen!” He picked it up and read the official document from the Empra.

  “In repayment for past misunderstandings, I retract the death warrant on the House MacTarn. All acts of war are forgiven as a suit for peace. The current Empra apoplogizes for any crimes that may have been committed by any previous Empras…”

  “Misunderstandings..? Crimes that may have been committed?”

  “Words! Just words, Shanny! It’s the official language of diplomacy! It is as close to a real ap
ology as any one of us will ever get.” He continued reading from the treaty, “If all hostilities against the current Imperial house cease, the five planets of Emerand are returned the Clan MacTarn and its pardoned leader, you.”

  “Me? You mean yer own bloody self don’t ya?”

  “No Shanny…iIt sez it right here! Shannon bloody Black Patch MacTarn! He means you!”

  He brother began laughing the saddest laugh ever. It progressed into a dry, wracking coughing spell. Zeer sat and wondered if his brother would give it up and pass over right then. Finally, gasping for breath, the old man stood, “It’s that easy, then, is it?”

  “You call this easy? One momentary act does not wash away the stain of a fifty cycle war and all those battles…all the losses….and all the deaths.”

  He ignored Zeer. He began limping and waving his arms. “So, it comes ta this. The way you read it, it certainly sounds so bloody simple. A lifetime’s war over wi’ one wee piece of sheepskin?” He bent over coughing again, Beor sat him back on his throne.

  He put his hand over his brother’s ice cold one, “No, Your Highness, not simple, just an end to it…and finally, peace.”

  “And what did it cost ye, ma wee brudder?”

  “Ya blasted idiot! It cost me exactly the same as you, a lifetime of fear and pain and struggle.”

  Shannon whirled to look in his brother’s face. “And nought else?”

  “What else?”

  “Two tons of Verdollium, perhaps?”

  “So you know. Ah, yes, I fergot, you can read minds as well as me. Well, I’ve nought ta hide from thee, my King! I gave him the bleedin’ Verdollium. He‘s hidden it. Your sister in law, Tristan has built a Legionairre post right over it. No one’s the wiser except you and me. The Empra’s gonna let the market use up the last of the Quallite before he tells anyone about it. If you and me keep that secret and our peace, we’ll lose nought else!”

  “No?”

  “No! Shannon Fife MacTarn IV, First Free King of all Emerand, know this! We have nearly a ton of Verdollium stored under the Emerald Castle that he doesn’t know about. Those jewels under our castle and the ones we gave him are just rocks! Fer true and simple, don’t ya know! I figger it this way. Compared to thee and those people down there,“ he pointed at the cheering crowds on the viddy, “they are just rocks, dontcha see!!!”

  Shannon slumped back in his chair, “I canna fight ya any more, Z-boy. I have no strength.”

  Zeer went to his brother’s side, “I will be your strength Shannon, me darlin’ old King, just as you were my strength all those decades of running and hiding.”

  Shannon looked around at the dust and the cobwebbed throne room, “All me ships and all me people are dead or gone. My wee Tani is dead. What am I ta do? I canna barely take a breath for the pain of it.”

  Zeer rose to his full height in anger, “Ya daft bastard! ALL yer people are not gone. There’s a million of ‘em working their arses off down on that planet, opening mines and factories and stores. They are rebuilding our ancestral homes. More arrive on every off world shuttle from every planet that took them in so long ago. While they were gone, they planned and schemed. They became doctors and teachers because they believed in that one day, the House of Mactarn would keep its promise to them.”

  “Not me…they believed in Dad…in Grampa!”

  “They believed then what they see today in the Clan MacTarn. That one day, one of us would rise, and they could rise with us.”

  The claws gripped the arms of the Emerald Throne. Shannon leaned forward with a forceful voice, “Then it’s down ta you…ya blasted Frog lover! They’ll rise with you!”

  Zeer sighed from deep in his soul. He knelt before the dusty remains of his brother’s feet, “Shannon, my Brother and my King! I swear before all that’s holy! I did this for you and for all of us. All those cycles that I hunted fer thee, I chose to believe that you were alive and that you, not me, would be the first to sit the Emerald Throne. That’s the deal I made. The deal was not meant for me, but, fer you!”

  “But, Z-boy, I am so tired…so very tired…”

  “Then there is no time ta waste. Those people down there are waiting for thee to ascend the Emerald throne in Castle MacTarn. Its bein’ rebuilt as we speak.”

  “Aye,” he said softly, “I seen it on the viddies.”

  Zeer hugged his brother, “Let’s go home. Then, we’ll talk.”

  Beor helped Zeer get his brother to the flyer. She strapped him in and took her seat. As Zeer was turning away, his brother clutched his arm in a desperate grip, “No crowds, Z... I canna take any crowds today.”

  “Aye, no crowds. Midwatch is two arn away. The Nzed news shows will play then. I have bored the newsies into looking elsewhere for stories. I have been taking daily flights around the area looking at the rebuilding. We can go on my usual circuit, then we can go to your private landing pad. People will be working and busy and few will care about another of my unscheduled landings.”

  Zeer lifted off and headed for the green ball covering the sky out of his video screens. He set the wings forward as they entered the atmosphere. He took the King on a tour of his realm. He seemed to perk up just being in the atmosphere of Emerand. They landed without incident at the Space Port. Zeer taxied to his private hangar.

  Paris had been following his progress with her mental connection. Mrs. T. was hooked in also. Following her orders, she had an ambulance waiting at the hangar. With its lights off, it pulled close to the jet. The emergency crew got the old male passenger onto its gurney and wrapped him in blankets. They drove quietly without lights or sirens through the empty streets.

  Pulling up to St. Patrick’s Rectory, they got to him inside. No one paid any attention to the covered figure on the gurney pushed quickly into the secure area inside an ambulance door. They quickly got him into a bed and started an IV. Once his hydration was stabilized and a good cuppa tay was administered, Shannie perked up. Beor was fed and allowed to shower. In a few ticks, she returned in a brand new Emerish Navy uniform. It bore the insignia of ensign. Her rank when Shanny’s whole crew went rogue.”

  Shannon looked at his last old comrade, “I never gave you rank in all these years?”

  “Nay…twas not needed.”

  Shannon laughed and said, “Man, your Admiral must have been a right bastard fer truth.”

  She drew herself up to ramrod straightness, “My Admiral is the finest man any Emerish seaman could sail with. I will fight any bastard to the death who says nought!”

  They all laughed. “Stand it ease, Ensign!” Zeer was on the opposite side of Shannon’s bed. Shannon turned slightly toward his brother. He pulled on a ribbon hanging around his neck. On it was a burned and partly melted Admiral’s star. Hiding it from Beor, he showed it to Zeer, “Can I, bro?”

  “Thee are King Shannon IV, Sire. Thee can do whatever thee wishes.”

  Shannon stood shakily, leaning on his bed, “Approach your king, Ensign.”

  She moved uneasily forward. Shannon removed her insignia. He put the ribbon around her neck, “I give thee two things. Since you have no family left, and you never left my side for more than forty cycles, you will from this day be known as my cousin, Beor MacTarn, the Duchess of the moon of Abarth. It will be your fief and fielty until the Master calls thee home.”

  The little group applauded. “And I am elevating you to the rank of Rear Admiral (retired) with full benefits and pension.” He looked at Zeer, who nodded in reply, “Your staff is to be no less than four, paid by the Royal Navy for your lifetime.”

  She snapped a salute. He returned it and said, “I will accept a gentle hug from my new cousin.” She went into his arms, and they held each other. She helped him back to bed. He drifted off to sleep.