The Tymorean Trust Book 1 - Power Rising

by Margaret Gregory

  Chapter 34 - Journey to Dira

  Those that were to be a part of the Royal Tour awoke well before dawn and breakfasted in their rooms. When dressed in plain brown travelling clothes, they assembled with their packs in a curtained off section of the Great Hall. The entourage consisted of the High King and his two eldest children, their attendants, a full contingent of security guards and the Elders from the palace who were travelling to Dira for the seasonal pilgrimage to the Sacred Temple.

  A detachment of the Tymorean Peace Corps was travelling with the group to act as scouts and messengers. Tanya carried Llaimos to the hall so that she could say her own private farewells to her husband and foster children. She would watch their departure from the upper levels of the palace in the nurseries with the other Royal Children.

  The entire entourage transmitted in small groups to the gates of the Estate, where their transportation awaited them.

  The High King and his children were to ride within a covered coach that bore the Royal Crest of the High King. The Elders would ride in similar but unadorned coaches. The attendants had standing room on the back of the coaches. The security guards and the members of the Peace Corps rode on horses similar to those that would pull the carriages.

  The carriages used by all the Governors and Elders had arrived by long-range beam from storage caverns on the ground level of the mesa. The crimson enamelled outer surfaces had been polished to a high gloss and they sparkled in the morning light. The horses’ white coats gleamed and their manes and tails shone like gold. Their breath condensed in the cold air like silver clouds.

  Servants secured the last of the travelling packs onto the roof of the coach as Tymos and Kryslie shadowed the High King up the pull out steps and into the coach. Tymoros elected to sit facing the direction of travel, and smiled in amusement as his children fidgeted between the three other seats. He was enjoying their excitement.

  “You will need to settle down,” he advised them. “The road down is steep and narrow. The horses are not used to wildly bouncing carriages.”

  Obediently, Kryslie settled beside Tymoros and Tymos sat opposite her. Their behaviour returned to the correct royal demeanour, until the carriage began to move, and then they both pulled aside the moving glass panels and let in a blast of frigid air. Tymoros pulled his warm travelling cape around him and continued to smile.

  Two heads protruded from the windows of the carriage as it paused at the staging area outside the gate. He heard two sighs of awe as the vista of open space and undisturbed zekon came into view. Beyond the flat area were zekon-frosted forests that might have been on a completely virgin world.

  Kryslie breathed deeply of the clean air, recognised a hint of tree resin, and suddenly felt as if some binding had been broken and she was newly free. In her mind, she sensed that her twin felt the same way but with an added sense that he had left a part of himself behind.

  “Back there is our home – and Llaimos is there – but out here is where we belong,” she mentally whispered.

  He replied, with a little awe, “It is like something out here is calling to us.”

  The carriage began moving down the zigzag road to the base of the mesa. Tymos and Kryslie continued to stare out of whichever side faced the wide-open space. They took the opportunity to enhance their sight to study distant details. In recent days, they had investigated the archives, seeking information on the nearby towns and cities and what they might expect to see. In the same searches, they had come across the information about the caverns within the mesa. Within that sheer sided hill under the palace, were caverns, some even bigger than the ones Tymos had seen. One huge cavern housed a fleet of small messenger ships, used to take messages to distant places that were far from the network of long-range beams. Tymos recalled mention of the Tymorean Space fleet, and wondered where those ships were kept. Then he wondered if there were other airships that they might have used to get to Dira instead of the carriage. Though thinking further, Tymos decided he preferred the slower method, as it would give him a closer view of the world.

  The tour party halted at the base of the mesa for the last of the carriages to complete the downward path and for the horse mounted scouts to spread out ahead of the group. When the horses once again drew the carriages forward, Kryslie put her head out the window to see where they were going, as Tymos stared back at the cliff and the barely perceptible way down.

  The carriage made clear tracks in the zekon, leading away from the mesa and across the open plain. Just before the carriage entered the forest, Tymos drew his sister’s attention to the view behind. The mesa had retreated into the distance and was far enough back for them to see the morning sun glinting off the palace buildings. They looked like constructions of gold and glass.

  Then the trees closed around them blocking the view, and new things caught their attention. The trees were thick, growing haphazardly and unlike the neatly ordered trees in the palace gardens. Although it was still the season of white, the trees were already beginning to bud for the new season. A few cold hardy species of insects chirped, and a few birds flew past. Occasionally they spotted a small creature scurrying back into cover, away from the carriage.

  After a short time, they were back out of the trees again, following a road that skirted more of the forest and would through low hills, covered in bushy vegetation and patches of zekon.

  “This road marks the outer fringe of the farmlands,” Tymoros remarked. “In the warmer months, herd beasts graze here. We will see mainly farmland today, although we will go through several small villages.”

  Either the folk in those villages knew to expect them, or word had quickly spread, for the local folk lined the road and waved. Cheers erupted when the people recognised the royal symbol on the leading carriage.

  When the sun reached zenith, the carriages stopped near a small creek. The accompanying palace guards formed a protective ring and the Pearce Corps scouts rode outward to check the area.

  Kryslie was glad to get out and stretch her legs. Tymos joined her as she looked around. On this area, open except near the trees by the stream, the sun had thawed the zekon and grass had already begun to grow in thick tufts.

  The wind though, was still chilly even though the sun was shining brightly from a cloudless sky. It felt like spring, since for weeks the sky had remained overcast even when it was not stormy.

  Tymos looked outwards, towards a distant range of hills. It seemed to him that as he looked there, the brightness of the sun dimmed – but no cloud had obscured the sun. He felt a shiver run up his spine.

  Tymoros joined them after talking to the servants assisting the Elders and preparing the food for lunch. He led the way up to the top of a slight rise.

  “The day has been unusually fine for this late in the season,” he remarked. “And the zekon here is already beginning to thaw. It seems as if the season of white will soon be over.” His attention was on the land further away.

  Kryslie squatted to feel the grass. “It feels vibrant with energy.”

  Tymoros answered her observation. “It is a sign that the season will soon be changing. It seems the season has been short this year. The plants are the first to react to the increase in warmth. Then the animals will feel it.”

  Abruptly, Tymos said, “Keleb should be with us. To be able to explore his affinity to animals.”

  “So should Jonko,” Kryslie quickly added. “Even though he is a warrior, he has more than a passing fascination with plants.”

  “I thought he was just being kind to Tobias,” Tymos remarked.

  Kryslie shook her head. “No, he was the one to seek out Tobias and suggest a trade – teaching about plants for lessons in weapons. I didn’t say anything because he didn’t want the interest widely known. And, I think he didn’t want you to think him weak, or to betray his gentler side to a rival.”

  “I am not his rival!” Tymos argued quietly.

  “Yet what Kryslie said is true,” Tymoros interceded, joining Kryslie as
she sat on the grass. “You must remember that he is half Terran. Competition is common amongst Terrans. Come and sit down Tymos.”

  Tymos sat down on the other side of his foster father from his sister.

  “I will arrange for them to join us on our return journey,” Tymoros suggested. “If they can prove they are advanced enough to pass to level Delta.”

  “I believe you will find they are ready,” Tymos stated quietly. “I believe they learnt to control their power even before we did.”

  “The two of you never cease to amaze me,” Tymoros betrayed his surprise. “When I communicate with my fellow Governors this evening I will arrange for your friends to be tested. I had noticed that Jonko and Keleb were progressing faster than anticipated. We were allowing them a slower rate of learning. It seems that they will progress as fast as we let them. I must remember that your instincts are as excellent if not better than my own.”

  “Surely not,” Tymos disagreed. “We are not nearly as wise as you!”

  “Instinct is not just based on knowledge and experience,” Tymoros told them. “Often, it is simply knowing what is true. I will say this to both of you – trust your instincts, above wisdom, above knowledge.”

  “That goes against all the rationales of your teaching, Father,” Kryslie objected.

  “Yes, that is true.” Tymoros readily admitted. “I would not make that an instruction to any one but you and your brother, but my instincts, which I have found to be true, tell me that I am right!”

  Tymos and Kryslie could not find an answer to that for they were seeing the implications of their foster father’s confidence in them. In spite of being reminded, often, that they were still children and inexperienced, they wanted to be adults and doing worthwhile things. They knew their power was strong and now it seemed that their Father, who was one of the three most powerful men on Tymoros, considered them his equal. Then they recalled that Reslic had said that they had yet to reach their full potential. It was almost a frightening thought.

  “We were created for a reason,” Kryslie thought at her brother, having just recalled another forgotten conversation. “What ever it is…we will need that power.”

  “I had forgotten that,” Tymos realised, still only thinking at his sister. “Why is it that we recall all our lessons perfectly and forget such things about ourselves? What else might we have forgotten?”

  Mentally, Kryslie shrugged. “We will recall things, given the right stimulus. It seems though, that our minds have been lulled into thinking only of learning. Out here, I feel we must be doing something.”

  Tymoros drew his children’s attention from whatever thoughts were occupying them. “Look, there are some young people approaching.”

  Tymos and Kryslie followed the direction of his gaze, down the hill away from the assembled coaches and horses.

  “I was wishing we could stop in one or two of the towns to meet people today. It seems I may have part of my wish. They look our age, Father,” Kryslie was eager that the group of six would continue to come their way.

  The children were dressed in simple peasant costume. The three girls were in long brown homespun skirts with unbleached linen blouses that were gathered at neck and sleeves and tucked into the skirts. Each had a grey, white and black knotted shawl to keep off the cold breeze. Two boys wore long leggings, and long sleeved tee-shaped shirts. A third boy, who was lagging behind the others, was dressed it what looked like proper grey trousers and a fancier shirt.

  As the group drew closer, it was apparent that they were all of different ages. The oldest, one of the girls, wore an apron tied at the waist and she was holding it clasped by the edges. The leading group of five were laughing and wore only sandals on their feet. It seemed that they did not notice the cold.

  The children spotted the carriages with the horses having drinks from canvas nosebags. As they headed towards the animals, not noticing the circle of guards, one of the boys spotted the group of three people standing on the rise beside the road. After glancing between the animals and the people, they changed direction.

  The guards were alert and seemed, to Tymos’s eyes, to be almost invisible. He noted that strange ability, and stored it to think on later. He returned his attention to the approaching children.

  With open friendliness that was pleasing to the travellers, the eldest girl began the ritual greeting.

  “Welcome to the Dales of Arrawen. May we offer you the hospitality of our Town?”

  “Thank you, child,” Tymoros spoke softly. “We are but passing by this area for we must travel swiftly to reach our destination before the storms begin. On our return it would give us great pleasure to visit Arrawen town.”

  The girl smiled and Kryslie returned one of her own. She noticed several flowers extending out of the clasped apron.

  “Are you collecting flowers? You have some beautiful ones. Though isn’t it early for flowers to be blooming?”

  “There are not many about yet. We have come a long way to find these few. They are for my mother who has been very ill during the Season of White. Even now, she cannot move from her bed to enjoy the mild weather. She so loves flowers.”

  Those she spoke to noticed the moisture in her eyes, but she dropped to the ground beside Kryslie to display the collection in her bunched up apron.

  “What is your name child?” Tymoros asked gently, with genuine interest. The welfare of his people was always foremost in his concerns.

  “Tarri,” the girl answered promptly politely facing the man she answered.

  “Your family?” he enquired further, indicating the other children with a sweep of his hand.

  “Yes, my sisters Jaime and Anima and my brothers Simi and Toby,” she introduced.

  “These are my children Tymos and Kryslie. I am Pyani Tymoros,” the High King introduced.

  The children didn’t react to the names and were ignorant of the high position of the strangers.

  Kryslie was watching the sixth child while seeming to have her attention on Tarri. The peasant girl had not given that boy’s name and the boy himself was scuffing at the grass tufts with his booted foot and not looking at them. Kryslie turned her attention back to Tarri.

  “It was a lovely thought to bring your mother flowers. I hope she will get better soon.”

  Tarri’s eyes dropped to the flowers in her apron.

  “My mother has become old and frail.” Tarri said unhappily. “The healers can’t help her. I heard them say there was something unnatural about her illness.”

  Tymos stood up and walked a short distance away from the group. He idly picked a few of the wildflowers that were growing nearby and formed them into a bunch. He walked back and Kryslie sensing his thoughts gave him a ribbon from her hair to tie around it. Tymos came and knelt in front of the girl.

  “Tarri, may I add a small gift to your collection?”

  “If you wish,” she agreed, watching Tymos’s face as he dropped the small bunch in with the rest. She flushed slightly when he took her hands.

  Tymos’s hands were a faint shade of mauve. The colour spread to the girls hands as Tymos spoke. “Your mother will get well again,” he assured her and the girl seemed to lose some of her unhappiness.

  “I believe you,” she said after a while.

  One of the boys grinned and nudged his sister.

  “Ah, I think I should be getting back.”

  Kryslie glanced again at the boy who stayed apart. She caught him staring intently at the group and he quickly averted his eyes. She grabbed her father’s arm and sent a thought to him.

  “Who is your shy friend?” Tymoros asked casually without looking at him directly.

  “He didn’t tell us his name,” Tarri shrugged.

  The boy had good hearing. Knowing he was being discussed he began to back down the hill and start to run. Tarri and her siblings followed him at a walk after bidding the strangers farewell.

  “What concerned you about the third boy?” Tymoros asked once the children w
ere out of earshot.

  “That boy reminds me of the alien that we saw the night Llaimos was born,” Kryslie told him. “The clothes are not the same and I couldn’t see his eyes clearly but he feels the same to my senses.”

  The High King betrayed his concern only by the creasing of his brow. He was silent for a while.

  Finally, Tymoros gestured to two of the Peace Corps officers and directed them to follow the strange boy. They rode off on horseback.

  The High King and his children returned down the hill to seats set up by a folding table to have their meal.

  When he finished eating, he left his children and spoke briefly to his attendant who went off and returned with a communicator. Tymoros reported Kryslie’s comment to the other Governors.

  He remained preoccupied as they once more climbed into the coaches and resumed their trip.

  Tymos too, was quiet and he was oblivious to the changing scenery. He was pondering the strange urge that had caused him to take the girl’s hands in his own. He had been able to sense details of the illness of the girl’s mother; they had been foremost in the girls mind. He did not understand the sudden surge of power that had occurred as he touched the girl nor his sureness that the sick woman would recover.

  They camped that night in canvas shelters with a full complement of guards on duty. Tymos and Kryslie slept deeply, not even waking when the two men returned from searching, unsuccessfully, for the boy.

  Kryslie stirred and woke two hours before dawn. The night, which had started as mild and peaceful, had grown unstable as a storm built up. Kryslie did not sit up immediately. She tried to discern what had woken her. Her father and brother were still asleep. She finally crawled out of her sleeping roll, being careful not to wake the others and crept from under the stretched fabric. She looked around and saw the security men at their posts. They were watchful and had noticed her appearance from the shelter.

  Kryslie acknowledged the guard’s salute to her with a nod and continued to look around. She saw as a shadow a smaller figure between the trees. A flash of lightning from the storm revealed nothing. The guards had not seen anyone and this time Kryslie could not sense an alien presence.

  The young alien continued to watch from behind a tree. He concentrated on keeping his mind blank but it was becoming difficult. Something about the way that young female looked at him, even when he should not be visible in the stealth suit - unnerved him. Earlier in the day, he had risked getting close to confirm he had located his quarry. Then he had been careful not to look directly at any of them. He had eluded the guards sent to track him and come back once it was dark to place a tracker focus on the carriage. It was time to leave and report back to Warlord Kellex who would be very pleased that his information had been correct and that the heathen king had his brats with him.

  Xan squashed the uneasy feeling he had when he realised that Warlord Kellex wanted to abduct these children. They seemed nice enough, even when they were only talking to ignorant peasants. However, that was now, as they got older they would become as depraved as their sire. Kellex hoped to teach them differently and if he used them as hostages, maybe the accursed Governors would have to listen to the pleas for help from the Aeronite people.

  The following day saw the Royal entourage travelling as fast as the coach horses could take them. There were scout parties riding ahead, behind and to each side of the main party. Kryslie had mentioned her night walk and her belief that she had seen someone watching from in the trees. They believed her even though there were no tracks to support that belief.

  The storm had passed before morning and the days travelling had proceeded without any further sign of the observer.

  They could not be certain that the boy, if he really was that young, was not still following them. The guards maintained a state of heightened alert during the next two days and nights of travel.

  The Royal Party arrived in Dira after darkness had fallen and when the nightly storms were beginning to flash and rumble. The city Elders greeted the travellers and provided them with food and refreshments. Later, after the coaches and animals had been tended and their own comforts seen to, Tymoros led his children to the hill, known to those of Royal Blood as the Hill of Eternity. They each carried their small bag of spare clothes. Security guards accompanied them to the base of the hill where an invisible barrier existed to prevent anyone with no Royal Blood from venturing. At that point, the High King and his children removed their footwear and walked barefoot up the narrow path accompanied by the city Elders who each carried a flaming torch. This was sacred ground to those of Royal Blood for on this hill, according to legend, the Guardians themselves had walked at the beginning of history.

  The common people could only watch the Elders walking up to the ancient temple that stood at the peak and know only the most powerful of the Royal Lines could enter the Temple of Creation.

  They reached the temple and walked up the entrance steps. All that was visible was the outline of a huge stone structure. To Tymos and Kryslie, the pales stones seemed to glow faintly. Tymoros did not stop, but passed a double row of columns and led his children into a huge open area, lit with glow lights set around the wall. The area was occupied by men and women dressed in long brown belted robes. The Elders greeted the High King and his children with slight bows. Two figures approached, both young, one was Gann Reslic and the other had dark hair.

  “Sire, we have prepared your usual chamber. Prince Tymos and Princes Kryslie have chambers assigned on the lower level. Do you wish refreshments before evening devotions?”

  Tymos and Kryslie hardly heard Gann speak, they looked around them, impressed by the high vaulted roof, the upper balcony, the magnificent stained glass mural on the wall above where they had entered.

  When Tymoros touched their shoulders, they brought their attention back to themselves.

  “We will settle in later,” he said.

  Gann nodded, and took the carry bags from them. “I will put these in your rooms.”

  The Elders began to move to the ring of seats set around a circular, tiled floor mural. Tymoros indicated two seats and Tymos and Kryslie sat on either side of their father, looking around and wondering what was about to happen.

  All but one of the Elders sat, while the young acolytes stayed standing behind the seats, with hands hidden in the sleeves of their robes. Elder Tymori began to chant softly and the others took up the solemn sounding refrain.

  The ritual devotions, giving thanks to the Supreme Guardians for their gifts of words and wisdom, followed a traditional pattern. At the conclusion, nearly all the Elders retreated to their sleeping cubicles. The exceptions were the two who would maintain a vigil in the Altar Room. This was a smaller room visible from the main gathering area. To get to it, the Elders went into the side passage, and up a short flight of stairs at the end. From below, two flames were visible above the waist high balcony. Faint breezes through the temple caused these oil fed lamps to flicker and cast shadows about the room.

  On that first night, Tymoros offered to join the vigil, and he asked Gann Reslic to show Tymos and Kryslie to their assigned cubicles. Gann merely nodded, silently and jerked his head toward the south side passage. His silence lasted until he stopped at one of the curtained off alcoves.

  “There are no servants here. If you want something, you get it yourself. We put a cup and water in here, but when it’s empty, you fill it. There is a tap in the washroom down the end of this passage. We get up at dawn for the morning rituals. Breakfast is in the south chamber afterwards. This room is yours, Prince Tymos. The next one is for Princess Kryslie.”

  After that, he bowed slightly and withdrew, leaving two slightly bewildered guests watching his departing back.

  With a glance at each other, Tymos pulled aside the curtain across the first alcove, and was relieved to see it was empty. Kryslie glanced in and then went to the next room. She didn’t think Gann would try to embarrass them, but she allowed her mind to sense for a presence with i
n before she entered her room. She said goodnight to Tymos and entered, drawing the curtain again behind her.

  Her room was identical to the one assigned to Tymos. A small bed - neatly made, a chair, a narrow cupboard and a tiny bedside table. On the wall was one of the glows, a smaller version of those in the gathering room. It gave enough light to see by, and to find her travelling bag at the foot of the bed.

  All those who had travelled to the temple, would spend the season there, tended by the younger people such as Gann Reslic, who were not yet Elders themselves, but students learning their wisdom.