by Mari Collier
MacDonald paused the recitation. “The Thalian tis Jason, Lad of Ayran. He twas about one hundred and twenty years of age at the time. The next twill be my mither. She twas one hundred and one the day this twas recorded. The bar she tis bending tis our metal, nay the soft iron that I bent in the tavern yesterday.” He released his finger.
Lorenz crossed his arms and gripped his biceps. This whole show was unbelievable, and he had a hunch it was going to become more fantastic.
The woman was as muscular as the man, and she too was clothed in a g-strap. A small strip of cloth wound around the breast area. Unlike the Brendons and the Krepyons, her breasts were minimal, hardly expanding the material. Her biceps, however, bulged as she bent and twisted the bar and then held it aloft, a wide smile showing a neat row of white teeth. Her dark hair bobbed around her ears and her flushed face was MacDonald's face.
“We once hoped the Thalians were evolving to mindspeak. Most of the Thalians have dark hair and dark eyes, but there are two of their 'Houses' that have a lighter, almost reddish-brown head of hair. Thalians can exchange emotions with their touch. This ability should be able to grow into the ability to exchange ideas mentally. Their philosophy of strength and war precludes this intellectual achievement. To prevent their ability to wage war, we have instituted a new governmental order in Thalia. It is still based on their fundamental rule of the Houses, but we have appointed the female of the Thalians to control most aspects of their day to day governing. The Krepyons insure that our precepts are followed. Thalia's manufacturing and military have been nullified.
“We are working with the Krepyons to bring order in our galaxy, and the efforts are beginning to show fruit.” Here MacDonald snorted. “The following will show you different scenes from the different planets.”
MacDonald paused the voice and images. “Do ye have any questions?” He looked down at Lorenz whose arms were crossed over his chest, and a hard, puzzled look on his young face.
“How do y'all tell the difference between Thalian men and women when they have clothes on?”
“Believe me, laddie, we can tell.” MacDonald chuckled.
“Why can't I call y'all pa?” He was still looking straight ahead, but his jaw jutted outward.
MacDonald's eyes narrowed. “Why are ye quibbling over that now?”
Lorenz jerked his head around and stood. “I ain't quibbling, or whatever that means. I just want to know why it has to be your way.”
“Because I am yere fither!” The big man roared back.
For a moment Lorenz forgot to speak and then asked, “But I thought y'all said Toma was.”
“He tis yere biological fither. I am the fither the good Gar has seen fit to give ye, and why can ye nay accept that?”
“I dunno, Papa. I figured y'all wouldn't want me.”
MacDonald shook his head in wonderment. “Dear, Gar, laddie, why?”
“Because Red wanted something from me as payment. He just didn't say what. From what y'all said before, it sounds like y'all want me because I've got two hearts and can fight the Justines when I'm grown.”
“Ye twill be able to go with me because the two hearts twill enable ye to live long enough. In truth, laddie, I dinna ken when I twill ever learn to navigate this ship back. Ye are wanted because ye should have been Anna's and mine, and I canna refuse what the good Gar has given. Do ye ken ye just called me Papa?”
“Yes, sir.” Lorenz's grey eyes lighted and he smiled at MacDonald. “And y'all didn't knock me down. Can I ask another question?”
MacDonald's eyes bulged on that one and he bent down and laid both hands on Lorenz's shoulder. “Why would ye believe I would knock ye down if ye called me fither?'
Lorenz shifted his gaze and then turned to MacDonald. “Y'all really won't be ashamed to say I'm yours?”
“Dear Gar, laddie, why else would I adopt ye?”
Lorenz wet his lips and heaved a sigh. “Maybe 'cause I wanted to believe it so damn bad. I still want to ask questions, if it's all right.”
MacDonald nodded and wondered what Lorenz would ask this time. “Aye, go ahead.” His voice was gruff and he straightened.
“How big was your ma-mother?”
“She stood six foot-three. She twas as tall as her brither, Lamar, and she outweighed him and twas stronger. Truly, she twas a magnificent Thalian.” His face and voice hardened. “Someday, when I return, I twill stand in that arena again. I twill win the fight again, and bend the rod as Mither did.”
“What happened to the, uh, Krepyons that were on this thing?”
“I killed them and let space take care of their bodies. They would have taken this ship and killed me.”
Lorenz let out his breath and felt his stomach knot. He'd been mistaken. This man could kill as readily as the next when survival was at stake. “Y'all plan on getting rid of the Krepyons and the Justines, don't y'all?”
MacDonald's eyes were black obsidian. “Aye.”
“Shit and I thought I was bad.”
“What are ye talking about now?”
“I killed Zale and two others to get even. Y'all are planning on wiping out the whole lot just like your mother.”
“Nay the whole lot. I twill only destroy their capacity to rule Thalia.”
Lorenz looked up and asked, “Why don't y'all spend your time studying everything in here so that y'all can leave?”
“Because I have found my true love on this world, and we have a wee lassie, and now a laddie to raise. I canna leave till I learn to navigate between the star systems. I have nay flown a craft through the spacepath portals, nay have I the math to ken the course plotting, but I have been studying. Someday I twill need to take the Golden One out to practice and to re-energize its system, but it twill take years to learn what I must. Mither could command a ship like this as she had studied at our academy and twas a warrior with the title of Captain of the Fleet.”
Lorenz thought for a moment. “That don't answer what I asked.”
“Yere mither would nay go, and Mina would nay ever fit in my world. Ye are the only one who might travel with me and thrive on my world. So, till such time as ye and Mina are grown and my beloved Anna crosses into the Darkness, I remain here. Should I learn the handling of this craft, do ye think ye twill wish to leave this planet someday?”
A smile twisted Lorenz's face and the grey eyes lit with sparkles for he was young and adventure beckoned. “Yeah, I think I'd like that.”
Chapter 11: Chalky
Anna placed the newly filled straw mattress on Lorenz's bed while MacDonald and Lorenz worked on the door jamb. From somewhere she had retrieved a wooden box and set it beside the bed. Inside it were placed the extra socks and summer underwear purchased at Uncle's store. On the top of the unpainted box, she had set a candle nestled inside an opened, cleaned, cut-off, and wallpaper decorated tin can. She surveyed the room critically after making the bed. “Ve vill buy du a proper chest vhen the money is a little better. Perhaps we can find a mirror at Kap's place. They may have an old one stuffed away somewhere.”
Lorenz knew that Rity's bedroom had some kind of fancy chest and a dressing table with a chair. He wondered if Mama had one of those and then decided she probably didn't. Mama didn't look like she spent as much time as Rity in front of a mirror. Mama's hair was always pulled back in a bun, with wispy curls fighting to be free. He didn't think that would take nearly as long to fix as Rity's fancy curls.
MacDonald didn't seem to care one way or another about hair. After looking at the scenes of Thalia, Lorenz had finally been able to figure out which was male and female on Papa's planet, but you sure couldn't tell by their clothes and their builds. Most of the people had their hair short. He had more questions on their way home.
“How old did y'all say y'all were when y'all came here?”
“I twas about sixty-four.”
“How old are y'all now?”
“Oh, I am about ninety of yere years. I would need to use the calibrator back at the craft to a
nswer ye as far as an accurate year and month.”
It all seemed so improbable. “I thought y'all were younger than Mama, and couldn't figure out why y'all married somebody older.”
MacDonald laughed. “What would I do with a young lassie? She would prattle on about meaningless things. My Anna kens what tis important and what tis nay.”
“But y'all picked somebody that is really tall, and most people can't help but notice, and they're afraid of tall women.” It wasn't an argument. He was just trying to figure out why somebody like Papa would do something to draw attention to himself.
“And just what would I do with a wee lassie? I'd rip her apart or spend my nights wishing for a Thalian woman. None of which has anything to do with my feelings for yere mither. The good Gar determines who ye fall in love with.”
Lorenz had spent some time dwelling on that answer. It seemed every time he asked a question it was answered, but the answer would mean more questions. He didn't even want to know why Papa would say Gar instead of Lord or God. He figured that answer would go on for a long time.
They had pounded pegs on the wall for his clean shirt and old trousers after carrying up the mattress. Now they were working on getting the hinges into the jambs. Lorenz couldn't figure out why all the fuss. A blanket hung over the door would work as well as anything. It wasn't like there was anyone else sleeping upstairs. It seemed these people were bent on working all day long. He didn't understand it.
His days with the Comancheros had seen intense bursts of activity to find meat, or break or set up camp, but pretty much the rest of the time had been spent doing nothing. His muscles were being used in ways he didn't even know they could be used.
MacDonald had set the hinge plate against the jamb and the door and now they were busy using a knife to cut out the extra wood. MacDonald had muttered something about a tool, but they'd use knives instead. It was hot up here, and water was streaking down the sides of both faces. Lorenz regretted not taking that shower at the Golden One when he had the chance. Besides the sweat, his hands were starting to cramp. At least he was trusted with a knife again. He stood for a moment and walked around, clenching and unclenching his hand while looking out the window. He noticed something moving way out in the distance. It looked like Rolfe, and then something switched in his brain and it wasn't Rolfe.
“Where's Daniel going to sleep when he gets here?” Lorenz shook his head. Damn, there he was talking nonsense again. “Why'd I say that? It's Rolfe coming in.”
MacDonald stood and wiped his hands against his trousers, a bemused look on his face. “So ye have yere mither's kenning ability too. Ye are a surprise, laddie. According to Anna, ye, Daniel, and Margaretha twill all be here at Christmas.”
He too, looked out through the window. “And yere eyes are very good. That tis friend Rolfe. Mayhap he has found the horse herd. It seems we twill finish the door another time.”
MacDonald picked up the door and tools and set them against the hall wall. “Ye twill have to wait for another night to sleep in yere bed. Twill be the ground for us again this evening.” He grinned. “Do ye think a new horse tis worth that?”
“I like sleeping outside, but I don't think y'all should tell Mama.”
They took the stairs at a quick pace.
MacDonald explained to Anna, gave her a kiss, and then grabbed two rifles out of the cabinet set against the south wall of the main room and heaved one to Lorenz. “Dinna get too excited,” he admonished as Lorenz caught the rifle with one hand and a huge smile lit his face. “Ye may need it.”
He stopped at the springhouse long enough to grab a handful of dried beef before they headed to the corral for their horses. Rolfe rode in as they finished saddling the horses. He raised his eyebrows at the rifle stuck in Lorenz's scabbard, aimed a stream of tobacco at the ground, smiled, and said, “Du two got damn good eyes. The herd is above the ridge line just northeast of dot spring out on your east range. I'll get Martin and meet du two there. It looked like there vas about twenty in the herd. Ve're thinning them out.”
“Aye, friend Rolfe, we'll meet ye and Martin there.”
He looked back over towards the trail to the south leading to Arles. “Did ye ken what those vultures are circling?”
Rolfe glanced to the south. “Nein, too far off and out of my vay. They just started their circling the last half-hour or so. Vhatever it is, they ain't moved in. Du vant to see if it's a cow or something else?”
“Aye, we'll check it ere we strike out for the spring.”
Rolfe nodded, clucked at his mount, and rode off.
“Y'all don't waste any time talking, do y'all?”
“Nay, why should we. We ken what the other tis about.” They too mounted and rode out, waving at Anna and Mina as they did.
They rode slowly in the afternoon heat, heading south towards the vultures. It was strange the way the birds kept circling, but never landing. Something must be keeping them in check, or whatever they were after wasn't dead yet. They topped the rise and looked down at a mule munching at the grass, its improvised rope reins tangled in the small juniper defiantly growing in the prairie grass. A body was lying next to the stunted tree where little mounds of the grass had been pulled out. The mule looked up as they approached, backed away a couple of steps, lowered its head, and continued eating. The figure on the ground looked as gaunt as the mule, and the uncovered head sprouted sparse, straw-colored hair. MacDonald grabbed his canteen, and they both dismounted.
“Use your bandana to devise a head covering,” he said to Lorenz, and then he bent and rolled the prone figure over, lifted his head and put the canteen to his lips. The face itself was flushed red, the lips cracked and drying. The youngster was maybe fourteen or a little older, and the eyebrows were as straw-colored as the hair.
“How bad is he?” asked Lorenz.
“He tis dehydrated, dried out,” said MacDonald, “and he looks like he needs three squares worse than ye did.”
The white eyelashes flipped upward and then closed while the boy's cracked lips sucked at the canteen. “If ye twill catch up that mule, I'll carry the lad on my saddle.”
“Are we taking him back to Mama?”
“Aye, she twill tend him.”
Anna's grey eyes widened at the sight of the slight, grime covered, sun burnt figure, and pointed to the daybed.
“'Twill ye need one of us to stay?”
“Nein, he vill be no trouble.”
This time when they rode out, they went to the east by northeast. The ground did not rise rapidly, but seemed to swell in rolls: rolls of prairie spread with still green grass and longhorns feeding in the swales and draws. There was an occasional oak where water must flow close to the surface. It was, thought Lorenz, damn good range. The land started to rise into the foothills, and then leveled off again. Lorenz noted that there were signs of cattle and other animals browsing through here.
Someone had used a wagon coming into this area and Lorenz began to see why. The trees were thicker here and someone had logged them out creating more grass for the animals. The trail rose again, and then leveled off. They rode into a small back canyon with a spring at the base of the boulders climbing into a small mountain range. Willows and cattails flanked the spring area and small bushes fought against the rock to claim their right to live. A high fence built of oak and stone ran across the area, but the gate was wide open.
“We camp here,” MacDonald announced. “We twill gather up some wood and wait for the Rolfes.”
“Y'all have used this camp a lot.”
“Oh, aye, that we have. This tis nay the first time we have rounded up horses and tis a great camp for hunting, branding, and cutting wood for the winter.”
“Why didn't y'all just build one of your houses here?”
“Tis nay enough room for the other buildings. Even Herman saw the logic in that, though he hates the thought of a settled place. More important, during a long, rainless summer, this spring may dry out, whereas the spring at our ho
me does nay.”
They had closed the gate and were stripping the riding and camp gear from their horses. Lorenz couldn't figure it. Their houses were out there for all to see. Back in here, they could have stayed hidden. Then it came to him. They weren't hiding. They lived where they felt they would be most comfortable. “We didn't bring much in the way of eats,” he said.
“Aye, but there tis coffee in my saddlebag and friend Rolfe twill bring in the rest.”
MacDonald knew his friend well. The elder Rolfe threw down a huge haunch of beef when he and his oldest son arrived. Martin was grinning from ear to ear. “Good to see y'all. Now we get a chance to increase our stock.”
Lorenz could think of lots of other reasons. Tonight he wasn't going to be studying or trying to read at a higher and higher level. He grinned back. It was good to be out in the open again.
They spread out early in the morning, following Rolfe's directions. Before the corals of the morning sunrise had dissipated they spotted the herd of mustangs. MacDonald used his powerful Zark to cut off the stallion while the rest bunched the remnants of the herd, and then drove them towards the spring and corral, not worrying if they lost a mare or two.
MacDonald and Rolfe worked together to close the gate behind the horses they had trapped and grinned at each other like a couple of boys. They dismounted and signaled the younger two to do the same.
“Du got the first pick this time,” said Rolfe to MacDonald.
“I twill let the laddie make his choice.” He turned to Lorenz. “Have ye seen one ye like? If nay, look closely.”
Lorenz used his forearm to wipe the sweat off his brow and looked at the milling herd. Some were upset, some were snuffling at the water, and one mare was nuzzling her colt. The horses were in fairly good shape except for the rough, un-curried coat. These were range-hardened, agile horses, well-suited for chasing and avoiding the longhorns. None matched the picture he carried in his mind of the blooded horse he would have one day, but he picked as close as he could. “I'll take the brown mare.”
