The big Space Cat circled my legs.
‘Follow,’ he sent, so I did.
As we crossed the landing field, I glanced to the rear. The valley stretched out until it began to transition into foothills far in the distance. There, another mountain range bracketed the Clan homeland. Roads crossed the valley floor connecting small towns and farm houses. I could just make out a few farmers tending their fields.
I inhaled and the fresh untreated air smelled of grass and a variety of trees. The pine was the most notable but the gentle breeze also carried a hint of cedar. Lifting my nose to greedily take in more of the delicious aroma, I felt the warm sun on my face.
I’ve spent most of my life in space. This nature, this unfiltered atmosphere, was like a narcotic. I wanted to stand there forever.
“Phelan Oscar Piran?” an old Druid asked.
Her hood was back and like me, she was basking in the warmth of a Spring morning.
“Asthore’ Druid,” I replied, “I am Piran.”
Then, she waved her hand and hobbled over to a bush. Once behind the scrub, she waved again.
“Of course you are,” she announced from the new location.
I suddenly remembered the Druid. Not as an old stooped woman but, as one of my tormentors when I was a young Druid candidate. If her tricks held, she’d come up behind me and whack me on the side of my head. I peered around as if I couldn’t locate her.
Sure enough, she waved her hand, and moved up behind me. I stood still listening to her heart beat and waiting for the rustle of her robe. When the fabric moved, I ducked, and spun to face her.
She froze. Her arm suspended at head height.
“It’s punishable by death to attack a Knight Protector of the Clan,” I whispered.
“Knight, forgive me,” she said her eyes wide, not so much in fear, but in shock, “I thought you were Folk.”
“Apparently,” I stated, “You thought I was still a young boy who’d be impressed with your tricks. Not any longer. Show me where I’m to go or, whom I’m to meet, Please.”
She bowed and gestured for me to follow. Padrig fell in beside me.
‘Spider,” he sent. I had to assume he didn’t care for the old teacher either.
Four paths snaked between the four Heart Plant temples. Each path reflected the color of a plant’s dome. White, Red, Blue and Yellow paths circled around before disappearing behind the huge structures.
The ancient Druid instructor led us to the white stone path. As we passed the White Heart dome, I reached out and ran my fingers over the ladder built into the dome’s side. Years ago, on my first day as a candidate, I had to jump a number of times before gaining purchase on the lowest rung.
I reached out and my hand easily touched the rung. It was my first memory of Druid school. I’d climbed to the top of the White Heart temple. My classmates and teachers were left waiting until I came down. The old teacher, especially, wasn’t happy with me. It wasn’t the last time my rambunctious nature got me in trouble with the strict Druid instructors.
My walk down memory lane ended at the administration office. I’d never been inside. Candidates, as a rule, weren’t allowed. Maybe advanced students were but I’d failed to connect to a Heart plant and left the school before advancing.
There were few good memories of those days. Failing to bond with a Heart Plant had left me without a training group. The result was me drifting from one color group to another. My training lagged and I became lonely and ostracized. For a second, I felt like that lonesome, isolated boy.
It’s amazing I should feel any of those emotions. I was a grown man, an officer in the Galactic Council Navy, and a Knight Protector of the Clan. Yet, I still felt the tug of those raw emotions.
At the administration building, the old teacher opened the door and stepped to the side.
“Peace Knight Protector of the Clan,” she said while bowing deeply.
“Asthore’ teacher, thank you,” I replied as I walked over the threshold.
The interior was all wood. From the deeply carved ceiling down to the fine whittled figures on the legs of the furniture. Everywhere I looked was a testament to the skills of Druid woodworkers. A desk with a Druid sitting behind it was the only work space. The remainder of the room had an assortment of chairs. Where they weren’t carved, they were covered by cushions.
“Come, sit,” the Druid said pointing to a chair in front of his desk.
I settled into a wooden chair that would be welcomed in any art gallery in the Realm.
“I am Berit, Administrator of the school and an Historian by trade,” he explained, “And you are Phelan Oscar Piran, Knight Protector of the Clan, among other things.”
“Yes, Sir. Why am I here?” I asked.
“Because Phelan, apparently, you are infected by aberrant spores from a deviant Heart Plant,” he replied, “Why are you here? We want to know where you encountered the White Heart Plant.”
My first thought was confusion. There had been a White Heart plant in the Realm and the Druids had been unaware of it? Then, it dawned on me, planet Tres was a newly cultivated world. A planet without connection to the Druid community when the Heart plant landed. So, what was the origin of the aberrant plant?
I explained to Berit my uncovering of the decay on Planet Tres and how the ruling families were connected to the White Heart. After talking for an hour, I asked questions of my own.
“Why was a White Heart Plant left in the hands of renegades?” I asked, “And why didn’t you go after it?”
“The White Heart Plant was an errant strain,” he explained, “The other plants exiled her. A small family of Druids were tasked with jettisoning her into a sun. When their ship went missing, we assumed it had been destroyed, and the Heart Plant along with it. In short we didn’t know it was on Tres.”
I watched his eyes. Although Berit was a Druid, I could sense his increased heart rate and see the dilation of his irises. He was lying. Leaning back, I marveled at the artistry of the ceiling. It was as good as the carvings in Dilshad’s Gambling Hall on planet Tres. The quality of workmanship, and the presence of Druids secretly caring for a Heart Plant, couldn’t have gone unnoticed. However, as I’ve found with Druids, there would be no straight answers for me.
“So that’s it? You wanted to know where I encountered the spores,” I declared gripping the arm of the chair and preparing to stand, “I’d like to leave on the next Shuttle.”
“We can help you,” he said softly, “The Heart Plants want to test you.”
“Are you talking about the box challenge?” I asked remembering the two times I failed the exam.
As a young candidate, Druid instructors had twice locked me in the confines of a box. Days of darkness, restricted confinement, thirst and hunger, not to mention the fear of a young boy, came flooding back. I don’t remember standing and leaning across the desk. Berit, a full Druid, pulled back in the face of my fury.
“I’m no longer a little boy who’ll do anything, suffer any abuse, to become a Druid. I’ve experienced your box tests. And, I am not impressed,” I stated between clinched teeth, “You’re going to need a lot of muscle to put me in a box, again.”
We stared at each other for a long time. Long enough for some of my anger to bleed off. I sat down but didn’t say anything.
Chapter 50
The door behind me opened and I focused on the foot falls. They weren’t heavy and there was only one person. I watched Berit for any sign or reaction. He was motionless.
“Knight Protector of the Clan? It is good to see you again,” said a young voice I recognized.
I turned and Denzilee, a young Druid child I saved from Constabulary backed Raiders, stood a few steps inside the door. After the rescue, she’d left Naraka to attend the Druid school. The last time I’d seen her, she bowed and boarded a protein Shuttle. From her appearance, she was advancing rapidly.
“Denzilee?” I stated after turning to look her over, “You are well?”
&n
bsp; “I am well, Sir Knight. My studies progress. I know my plant nutrient formulas and I climb to the top of the training dome,” she blurted out, then remembering Berit’s presence, added, “I apologize for the outburst, Master.”
“It is fine candidate,” he said, “I require you to give the Knight a tour of our school. Will you?”
“It would be my pleasure,” she replied while holding out a small calloused hand to me.
I wanted to stay and beat the truth out of Berit. Or, just pound him into the polished wood floor out of frustration. But, I took Denzilee’s hand, and let her lead me out of the administrator’s office.
The air refreshed me and the chatter of the young girl was pleasant. I didn’t tell her I knew all the buildings and landscape. I let her be my guide. After touring the entire campus, she stopped in front of the testing temple.
“They would like you to enter,” she explained, “If you’d rather, there is a shuttle leaving in an hour. But, the Heart Plants really want to meet you.”
Her little face was turned up and the look of adoration was undeniable. To her, I was a hero. And, the hero had a choice to make. Meet the Heart Plants or run away. The small face and the grin won.
“How much muscle did I tell Berit he’d need?” I mumbled before saying to Denzilee, “Alright, I’ll enter. Thank you for the tour.”
Her little hands reached up and she pulled me down until my ear was near her mouth.
“I tell the other Candidates, I know a Knight Protector of the Clan,” she whispered, “Mostly, they don’t believe me. It okay, I know the truth.”
“You are a fine young lady and will someday be a worthy Druid,” I said standing up and smiling. Before opening the door to the temple, I told her, “Knowing a Knight is a secret. Before you tell anyone, be sure they can be trusted and, swear them to secrecy. Goodbye Denzilee.”
It hadn’t taken muscle. All it took was a small girl with a good heart to get me into the plant dome. I pulled open the airlock and stepped into the temple.
Chapter 51
The floor was dirt and four juvenile Heart Plants had been placed in separate areas of the dome. Around the interior ring were a white, a yellow, a blue and a red plant. In front of each, lounged a large Space Cat. They may have wanted to meet me but the display of cat muscle meant the Heart Plants didn’t trust me. I’d been raised by Druids and worked on ships and stations with Hearts. I couldn’t figure out why they needed the security.
Two Space Cats could kill an average citizen. Three, an armed citizen but four Space Cats was overkill, unless, it was for a special person. Maybe the four were there to protect the plants from an infected Knight Protector of the Clan?
The observations had occupied over enough time for me to take four steps into the dome. On the fifth step the buzzing began in my head, my eyes hazed over, and my knees buckled. I fell in the direction of the White Heart plant.
Sea Salt aroma from the White Heart plant washed over me and I felt as if I were drowning. Gasping for breath, I shivered and sweat dripped into my eyes. I squeezed them shut but the burning continued. My entire body felt wet and I couldn’t catch my breath. It was as if a battle were raging inside of me. Slowly, I realized there were two distinct Sea Salt scents.
One was fresh and light while the other was tainted with sour brine. One would overtake my senses then the other became dominant. Back and forth the odors flowed and I became confused as to which I was smelling. My mind and body finally gave in and everything went dark.
When I awoke, I was sprawled in front of the White. There was something appealing about feeling the dirt running between my fingers. My fingers were one with the soil and could detect the organic particles mixed in among the rock and sand. I inhaled and the scent was light and fresh Sea Salt.
A Berry fragrance drifted to my nose, and for a second, I feared a repeat of the struggle as the Berry aroma attempted to replace the Sea Salt. The Berry fragrance from the Blue Heart plant was tangy and smooth. It surprised me when the Sea Salt simply drifted away.
I felt stronger as I pushed to my feet and walked to the Blue Heart. I wanted to push against something. At the plant, I stooped and pushed against the earth. I pressed with my arms, my muscles were taunt and cramping but I couldn’t stop pushing. Harder and harder, it was a compulsion to drive my fists into the dirt. To feel it move under my hands, to bury my arms by brute force.
The strain became too much and my arms collapsed. I tumbled face first into the dirt and drifted off to sleep.
When I awoke, the Berry aroma was strong in my nostrils. I inhaled to my lungs capacity. After exhaling, I detected a Cinnamon aroma from the Red Heart plant. The Berry faded gently away.
I stood and stomped my way to the Red Heart plant. My chest was thrust forward and I sensed the blood coursing through my veins. I squatted and let my fingers trace lines in the dirt. But it wasn’t enough, I began to apply pressure to my fingertips. The lines became deeper and longer. My fingers gouging furls in the ground but it wasn’t enough. Dirt began piling up as I dug faster and faster. It flew over my head and over my shoulders. It covered my knees.
My eyes saw red and I became impatient with my progress. Cinnamon aroma fed me passion and I added kicks to the dirt. Digging and kicking, eventually I tumbled over from exhaustion.
When I awoke, a light aroma of Cinnamon remained, but it drifted away and was replaced by a Citrus scent. I recognized the Yellow Heart plants’ essence and breathed in deeply.
I vaulted to my feet and sprinted across the floor. At the Yellow Heart plant, I bent forward. Once my hands were positioned, I pressed into a handstand. Citrus filled me with the need for motion and I bent and touched my nose to the soil. Once, twice and again until I lost track of the repetitions. Blood pounded into my head and my shoulders burned and still I pumped. My nose was on the dirt when my arms folded and I crashed to the floor. Citrus scent comforted me as I fell into a deep sleep.
When I awoke, I surprised to be sitting in the center of the training dome. The four tall juvenile Heart plants and the cats were an equal distance from me.
I realized I could select any of the four aromas at will. The Sea Salt essence of the White was effortlessly replaced by the Berry of a Blue. Each aroma brought a different feeling and the Red Cinnamon was simply dismissed when I sought out the Yellow Citrus. There was no buzzing or discomfort. I was simply basking in the aromas as they drifted around the dome.
‘The disruptive sister is gone,’ I smelled the thought from the White.
‘This one is with us,’ the Red aroma carried the message to me.
‘But no Druid,’ I received with the Yellow’s scent.
‘But one with us,’ the words came on a Blue fragrance.
I was looking at the plants. In my formative years, I’d been around Heart plants. With my Druid parents, I’d tended and cared for a number of them. But, I’d never heard or smelled words from a Heart plant.
‘What became of our sister?” the White sent.
I slowed my breathing trying to take back some control. With shallow breaths, I stood and walked to the airlock.
‘What became of our sister?’ insisted the Red.
‘What became of our sister?’ the question rolled over me in a cloud of Berry fragrance.
My senses heightened and I wanted to reply. But first, I needed some answers. Ignoring the question, I exited the airlock.
My flight suit was ripped and the evening breeze let me know where the cloth was torn. Looking down, I saw it was covered with layers of dirt. But, none of this mattered. I needed to find Berit.
I looked up to find a frail old Druid standing in the path. I attempted to go around him but he stepped in front of me.
“Asthore’ Piran,” he said with a smile, “I am Pirkko, also an Umber. There is no reason to be afraid.”
“Afraid?” I asked, “I’m not afraid. I’m sick. Sick of incomplete answers and secrecy. Now, please get out of my way.”
He bowed and ste
pped aside. I ignored the ancient Druid and sprinted to the administration building.
Berit looked up in surprise when I tossed open the door to his office.
“Piran?” he began but I cut him off with a chop of my hand.
“Tell me about the Druid family and the space ship’s crew,” I ordered, “who were taking the White Heart to be incinerated in a sun.”
“Well, according to our records, it was a long time ago, you know,” he stammered, “They all volunteered.”
“Why did they need to volunteer?” I asked, “It should have been an easy mission.”
“It might have been more of a selection process,” he explained, “It was, after all, an honor to escort a White Heart to its final resting place.”
“Volunteers. Selection process,” I stammered, “Just how many Druids were on the ship?”
“Three hundred Druids consisting of equal parts men, women and children,” he reported, “Plus one hundred crewmembers.”
“Is that normal for the destruction of a Heart plant?” I asked, “To have such a large honor guard?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, “In all of our history, we’ve never destroyed a Heart plant.”
I stood silently, letting the information sink in before asking, “What was the composition of the ship’s crew?”
“That’s always fascinated me,” he replied, “As an historian, its puzzling why the Elders insisted the crew have a balance of men and women plus a third being young apprentices.”
“That’s not an honor guard,” I mumbled.
“You’ve created a stir around the school,” Berit stated, “We haven’t had an Umber since Pirkko was a young candidate.”
“I don’t know what an Umber is,” I replied, “Right now, I need to return to the Heart plants and answer questions. But I have one final question for you.”
“Yes of course, Umber Piran,” he replied.
“Were there Druid woodworkers and apprentices on the ship?” I asked.
“I believe all the Druid trades were represented,” Berit said, “I can check the records to be sure.”
Galactic Council Realm 3: On Guard Page 36
