BOOK 0: FIELDS OF FIRE Chapter xvi

The Stellar Council Confederacy of Planets called an emergency session while the Thuringi Armada still orbited Gali. King Lycasis Phillipi journeyed with a compliment of his Naradi Famede guards on the battleship Seetak to the space station headquarters of the Council. The Armada was in Crown Prince Stuart’s capable hands, and under Warrior Prince Darien’s protection directives. There was no official notice as to the subject of the meeting, but it was fair to reason it would concern the plight of the Thuringi.

“Well,” Darien snorted, “It took them long enough to discover the oversight.”

The Stellar Council Confederacy of Planets situated their headquarters at the main junction of two main wormholes. The coordinates were familiar with everyone in the known worlds, and easily accessible by their ships. It orbited a sun with no useful or life-sustaining planets and was considered neutral territory. Even the Shargassi did not violate its neutral airspace.

Knots of people from the represented world were on hand in the main chamber: thin, ethereal mystical Hunda, whose long white hair was in startling contrast to their black apparel, exchanged pleasantries with the rotund, affable D’tai; the robust, energetic Thelan paid special attention to the beautiful, gentle women of Chassiren. The loud, gregarious Galian chatted with the simplistic but keen-eyed Borelliat, the short, sparse haired Scoda habitually stroked their massive noses out of habit and made small talk with the other ambassadors.

The fair haired, blue-tinged skinned Sengans kept to themselves lest they exchange less than cordial greetings with their intellectual rivals, the Sturbin. The Sturbin were every bit as inventive as the Sengan but were accused of being stingy with their inventions. The Sturbin in turn considered the Sengans naïve fools who bore an open invitation to be robbed at every turn of their giving natures.

The emissaries, who complimented him on the appearance of his health but did not inquire as to the health of his people, greeted Lycasis coolly. The D’tai ambassador hurried to his appointed seat without chatting with his old friend. The Borelliat ambassador did not even approach Lycasis. Just as well, Lycasis thought; if they were being watched when they turned us away when we sought help, they are no doubt being watched now.

The ambassadors’ tables were situated in rows on risers that faced a dais where the elected officers of the council sat. Lycasis took a lonely seat at the area designated for the Thuringi contingent. The Thuringi ambassador and Vicar Emeritus Lanzo Saulin, Lycasis’ father-in-law and former Bishop of Fellensk, would not be in attendance. He died amidst his planet’s ecological destruction and the Thuringi had not been represented since that time.

Lycasis spied Lord Gunnar Porteau among the Thelan delegates. Gunnar held up a hand in silent greeting. Lycasis returned it, and realized it was the first time anyone publicly acknowledged his presence in full view of the other members since he arrived. The lonely spot for the Thuringi delegate felt even more isolated save only for the Gollar representative nearby. The usual opening remarks and official readings were made, and what Bishop Saulin always referred to it as ‘the Kellis call to arms, rules read before the quasch’ as if it was a sporting event. Gore Brandy, the Council President from Senga, immediately broached the main subject.

“We are meeting here to discuss the situation of the Thuringi. There is much anxiety among our members pertaining to the problems and threats caused by the Shargassi-Thuringi war.”

Problems and threats, indeed! Lycasis thought. Their worlds have not been destroyed and their populations all but decimated. They have not seen anxiety yet.

“President Brandy,” a Scoda representative called, and was recognized. “It has come to our attention that the Thuringi Armada forced several planets into giving supplies. What course of action do you propose we take on the matter?” That started a buzz of speculative voices around the room.

“We will address individual concerns later. For the now, we will hear from the Thuringi representative, King Lycasis Phillipi de Trennon.” All attention was directed to Lycasis, who rose and remained at the Thuringi station.

“As you well know, the Shargassi attacked Thuringa and destroyed our ecological balance. When it became clear that the damage could not be reversed, we built our armada fleet and escaped our world in order to survive. The damage is done; our world is completely destroyed. Destroyed, my fellow council members; not overrun, not stolen, not a spoil of war. There is no life remaining on the former lush world of Thuringa. We are now galactic nomads, seeking haven for our remaining civilization.” Murmurs rippled through the assembled crowd. “We have been a fixture of this council since its inception. We have never refused aid to other worlds as needed. We never asked favors from anyone, for anything; yet we surviving Thuringi are now forced to ask for succor. It is not easy for us to ask, and we found that succor is not always given when we do. The Shargassi threaten worlds that might offer us aid, and –”

“And so, you take as you please,” interjected the Scodan ambassador. The other people hissed at him for silence, and Lycasis regarded him impassively.

“That we are now seen as aggressors only underscores the problems the Stellar Council addresses. What happened to us, happened despite the considerable power of the Royal Thuringi Air Command. And what happened to us will happen to you, to those who do not protect yourselves, those to whom we have always given aid so generously and unquestioningly in the past, if the Shargassi are not stopped.”

“Are you suggesting we stop them?” A Borelliat asked him.

“Now that you are no longer under the umbrella of Thuringi protection, I suggest that the time is past due for you to make a unified effort to keep them at bay,” Lycasis said. “It was not our choice to flee our home world. The Shargassi made that choice when they sought to destroy us. We cannot ask any inhabited world to take us in as refugees, for to do so would directly invite the Shargassi to attack you, as well. All we have sought is aid, to help us in flight. In order to protect the grace of certain worlds, we were forced to give the appearance of intimidation so spies for the Shargassi would not tattle like children.” He looked directly at the Scodan ambassador with an irritated glare of his yellow Thuringi eyes. “I believe that addresses your out-of-order remarks concerning taking and forcing.” The Scodan did not reply.

“How long will you be refugees?” asked the president. “Where are the Thuringi people heading, Lycasis?”

“To a promising world,” Lycasis replied, but added nothing more.

“But where? How long will it take?” a Pleonian asked. Like all Pleonians, he was solidly built like a stone. It would be a cruel comment and largely untrue to suggest Pleonians were as dense as the rich metal ore they extracted from their world.

“That we cannot say,” Lycasis replied quietly. “We are still at odds with the Shargassi.”

“But you could be drifting about forever!” a D’tai junior delegate exclaimed. “Who knows how many times we will be forced into serving your people?”

Lycasis seared him with a look. “We will remember to mark you off our list as noble friends,” he said shortly. “Am I wrong in the observation that never once did a D’tai citizen ask after our safety when you called upon us for aid? How many times has the Stellar Council Confederacy tapped our Air Command on the shoulder and requested our might?”

“You did not have to give it,” the Scodan reminded him.

“Because we trusted the Council’s rules and reasons,” Lycasis replied.

“Lycasis speaks true,” Gunnar Porteau said, rising to his feet. “Now that the Thuringi warriors must protect their people full time, it has already fallen to the Thelan Armed Command to fill in their place. And ladies and gentlemen, we refuse to do it.”

Raised voices erupted in a frenzy to be heard, and it took the president considerable time in banging his gavel to settle the din. “What are you saying, Lord Porteau?” President Brandy asked.

“I am saying the Thelan will only protect ourselves and those worlds with which we have signed agreements concerning specific action. Any others will have to fend for themselves or negotiate with the Shargassi if you want them to stay clear of you. Well, what did you expect?” he asked as the buzz of dismay rose again. “We can see for ourselves how the Thuringi are being treated. They offered everything to you for years, trusting that should their own hour of need ever come, you in turn would aid them. Ingrates, all of you.”

“The Shargassi warned us not to aid them, else we too would suffer the same fate,” the Borelliat ambassador protested. “It was not our choice; it was simply a matter of survival. We traded supplies for protection with the Thuringi. With no more protection available, to supply them would seal our doom.”

“The same for us,” the D’tai added. “It is true, Lord Porteau, that we appear to be ungrateful, but one cannot reach out a hand to the needy if those hands are bound up by circumstance. King Lycasis, do you understand?” he said as he turned to the royal Thuringi.

“I understand,” Lycasis told him. “It does not help my people, but I appreciate your situation.”

“But we do not have the armed power of the Thuringi or the Thelan, or the Gollar,” a Borelliat said, and another in his same contingent laughed insolently at him.

“If we would stop squabbling amongst ourselves, we might have a chance at building an army.”

“Be hushed, Dante Benight,” the head of the Borelliat delegation warned. “The discord of our world is not at issue.”

“Oh yes it is, you said yourself that we do not have the power that these lords of firepower have to keep the Shargassi off our doorstep!”

One of the lizard-like Gollar calmly sat in the delegate area directly in front of and below Lycasis. He snorted in derision at this latest remark. “A damn foolish time to announce such a thing,” he said. “If my world were threatened by the Shargassi, I do not think I would wish to proclaim the fact that I have no army at an open Council meeting where anyone might be listening.”

“We have a signed pact with the Thelan,” the Borelliat Dante Benight snapped. “I only point out that we have no Borelliat army for ourselves.”

“Then get one,” Gunnar Porteau said hotly. “We do not appreciate babysitting.”

The noise level of the room rose with the tempers. Lycasis sat and folded his hands in his lap to watch the melee. Only he, the Gollar representatives and the women of Chassiren were not on their feet shouting and cursing like the others. The Chassiren sat with hands in their laps and observed the growing tumult with concerned looks on their flawless faces.

The reptilian Gollar smiled at the Thuringi king and nodded at the shouting delegates. “Ugly devils when they are annoyed, are they not?” he asked. He knew Lycasis would appreciate the irony of his remark.

“We know who our friends are now, anyway,” Lycasis said.

“We do not export or import for this very reason. You cannot put the fate of your world on someone else’s agenda and expect it to be checked off as a matter of course,” the Gollar noted, and Lycasis sighed in agreement.

“The day will come, Lord Anew, when even the mighty Gollar will need to ask for aid,” the Thuringi king said sadly. “Once it was unimaginable for the Royal Thuringi Air Command to suffer the loss of our entire world. We are – were – both galactic neighbors of the Shargassi. Let our fate be a warning to you.”

Agrid Anew slowly nodded.

The gavel in the president’s hand finally broke, so he climbed onto the dais and shouted for order. Order was finally restored, and he wiped the sweat from his brow. “This used to be easier,” he complained. “Where is the sergeant-at-arms?”

“Your sergeants-at-arms were Thuringi Naradi, who now guard their own people,” Lycasis called out in a powerful voice, so that no one could miss his words. “I see that none of your member worlds have offered to provide protection, and that is extremely inadvisable.”

Lycasis was seated in a way completely out of character for him. It was more like his son Darien: his chair was tilted back and balanced on its back legs as his feet rested on the table, crossed at the ankles. His long silver and golden locks framed a face that was weary and nonchalant at the same time.

“Is that the true meaning of this meeting?” he asked in the now silent room. “You now seek to shore up the faltering system you made for yourselves, hoping to blame the Thuringi tribulations for your shortcomings. You have no sergeants-at-arms because the Royal Thuringi Armed Command is no longer able to provide them. You worry about the Shargassi overtaking your worlds because the Royal Thuringi Air Command no longer fends them off for you. It does not matter to you that hundreds of thousands of Thuringi warriors and civilians are dead; you are more concerned that it is more difficult to keep order among yourselves now. You wonder about your futures because we Thuringi no longer have proof of our past.”

He sat his chair back down, got to his feet, and stood proudly before them all. “How many of you would raise your hand with the promise of friendship to my people in the future? Given the facts I have just named, and I will find no fault in honesty, how many of you ride in spirit alongside the Thuringi people?” The Thelan immediately raised their hands. The Baron of Pleoni, his. The Gali, theirs. “How many abstain?” The Gollar raised their hands and the Ledess of Chassiren raised hers. Theirs was a longstanding tradition of abstention from such matters. “Others, who must turn away?” Nine groups raised their hands. Lycasis wore a troubled look as he said, “Thus is the summation of our dismay. We will be on our way, then, good Council members one and all.” He pushed his chair back under the table. “When Thuringi will once again sit among you, we do not know. But know this: the Thuringi people will never be defeated in our hearts.”

“King Lycasis, where are you heading? Perhaps if we knew, there may be some help offered for your people,” President Brandy asked.

Lycasis looked over the assembled in the room. With the exception of a paltry few, he would not give a seed for any of them. He cleared his throat and answered, “We are bound for the planet known as Shuree-Fain.”

“Where is that?” the Scoda asked, puzzled.

“At the end of our journey,” Lycasis said shortly, and left the chambers. Shuree-Fain was one of the planets the Thuringi considered until they discovered Shuree-Fain was largely volcanic. It was habitable but only for those who could bear to ingest a little poisonous gas with every breath. The average man could live at least six months there before succumbing. It would do as a diversion, however: if the Shargassi wanted the coordinates they would need to dig through thousands of communiques to find them out. That would buy the Thuringi some time.

King Lycasis Phillipi de Trennon returned to the Armada at Gali in thoughtful silence. The Naradi and crew of the Seetak did not question him about what took place at the Stellar Council meeting. Lycasis purposefully requested they wait outside the Council chamber so they would not be utilized as sergeants-at-arms. He wanted to make certain the Council felt the full weight of the galaxy’s predicament. The Naradi could tell what he had to say would not be heartening, but they did not disturb him with questions.

Lycasis pondered what Gore Brandy said. Perhaps someone in the unknown territory would help them in their journey. There might not be many helpful worlds between where they were now, and Farcourt. Gali was at the far end of the Stellar Council worlds’ confederacy along the wormhole trace; originally it had been a Thelan outpost centuries ago. If one continued in a straight course from Gali, Shuree-Fain would be there just off the silver wormhole trace. But at a forty-five-degree angle from Gali after a considerable amount of travel, lay the world known to Thuringa as Farcourt. Roughly two-thirds of the way to that goal was a planet right in the middle of the route the Thuringi planned to take. It had an atmosphere that could support life and thought to be inhabited by intelligent, evolved creatures but little else more was known of it.

The Thuringi must contact this world immediately before the Shargassi discovered the true destination of the Armada and before they reached the mystery world first. Lycasis considered sending emissaries before now, but the Stellar Council meeting made it imperative. Of course, he would send Stuart. Stuart had years of experience in meetings with many worlds before in quieter days. He was skilled at diplomacy and would best determine how to approach the leader of this mysterious world.

For a scant moment Lycasis considered sending Erich along in order for the boy to get some experience under his belt. The important years when he could have been on diplomatic missions were overrun with war and battle and exodus. But this mission was far too vital to risk sending a frankly spoiled boy who had already done enough damage. His impulsive words to the Thelan people when they stopped for supplies nearly undid centuries of friendship. As a prince, he should have known better than to insult their hospitality. No, Erich would stay with the Armada where Lycasis and Oriel could teach him royal rules and protocol.

There was no telling what kind of world this would be and having a solid backup in case of physical threat would be important. For all they knew, it might be a world similar to a Shargassi stronghold, and Stuart needed a strong sword and a steady pistol to cover him. He knew his sons had a favorite Naradi of theirs, Glendon Garin, the one now assigned to Carrol. Garin’s reputation for excellence was well deserved. He had a talented daughter in the cadet corps, Lycasis heard, and no doubt she learned much of her skills from her father. Such a knowledgeable teacher made for an appropriate mission choice. This Garin was also the Naradi whose quick action and skillful handling of a bad situation saved the day on Thelan when Erich behaved so badly.

Lycasis would also send a medical. Sandan Medina came to mind, but he was also an outstanding member of the Air Command. The Armada would need all the skilled fighter pilots that were available, especially if whoever kept watch of the Stellar Council for the Shargassi told them the Armada still journeyed through space. If the Shargassi struck, the Air Command would need Sandan’s war talents or his surgical skills. Lycasis considered his own daughter Carrol. Carrol was a skilled medical, and her research talents would be of handier use to them in exploring an unknown world. Her healing Arda gift would be valuable should there be trouble. But suppose the new world’s inhabitants were not warlike; suppose they were peaceful. A woman’s presence might reassure them that the Thuringi did not intend to overtake that world but simply needed to rest before moving on.

In Hartin Medina, Lycasis knew he had a trustworthy man. Trustworthy enough to assign him as leader of the Armada Air Command, so Lycasis could send Stuart’ twin brother Darien to this new world. He knew Darien was angry and impatient to turn and fight the Shargassi. Certainly, news of this meeting would not be taken well by him. To give him something in which to actively participate would be a better alternative than to allow his anger to fester. Darien’s strong sword hand would be in ideal concert with the Naradi. His would be the firm voice to Stuart’s fair one. They were a remarkable, able duo, those two—as long as their goals were the same. The royal line would be intact since Erich would remain behind if the worst should come to the worst.

For the sake of the watermen he would send one of their own, the acting Sea Commander Brent Ardenne, to perform reconnaissance on the waters of this new world. The Freen had no fleet for its tiny ocean, and the title ‘Sea Commander” was largely ceremonial of the now. But the watermen would need a plentiful supply of fresh water if any might be found on this resting place, and Brent knew better than any Airman what the watermen required.

Lycasis was grateful the filtration pumps worked so well. Thanks to the talents of that remarkable Gareth Duncan, the Freen would be clean for some time. Many things around the Armada benefited from his bright skills. Gareth Duncan, too, should journey with the scouts. Should they need repair work or some thing or other that needed to be created for the betterment of the mission, he would be ideal as the go-to man.

Yes, those six would be – no. He had quite forgotten the difficult issue of Carrol and Gareth Duncan’s interest in each other. Their behavior since the Festival was exemplary. There was no hint of any emotion other than friendship between them, and their handling of the time alone matter was adroit and tactful. If they were not in the company of her brothers or a Naradi, then they were always seen at a respectable distance apart in a public place. Lycasis had sharp ears and heard no harmful thing about them, not even from that odd man, Tomas Hellick. Still, to send his smitten daughter and her ardent admirer off on a mission together begged for renewed gossip and scandal.

He regretted the stringent guidelines he put on them since such rules made a courtship awkward at best. Thuringi loved a love scandal as long as it did not involve any of their relatives, and people watched Carrol and Gareth like a new hobby. Lycasis allowed Carrol and Maranta Shanaugh a bit of private time together even though he suspected beforehand what was likely to transpire. If given a second chance, Lycasis would not have changed a thing. Those precious hours together made Carrol’s loss of Maranta bearable for her. Happy memories of a quiet private wedding and marital bliss for even a scant few hours made Lycasis glad of his decision.

Lycasis was no fool. Carrol was an adult as was Gareth Duncan. Just because no one could prove impropriety between the two did not mean it was non-existent. The God of All knew Lycasis was in no position to judge a man and his passion for a woman. Let the old women gossip and the old men try to sit in judgment. Carrol would have two brothers, a Naradi, and Brent Ardenne – well, leave him out of the equation for a stronger argument – who would serve well as Carrol’s chaperones. If anyone doubted the worth of his sons’ promises, then damn the doubter! The addition of Gareth Duncan to aid the scouting party was worth it. And yes, mused Lycasis as he saw the Armada come into view, if it eases the heart of my beloved daughter, then brand me as indulgent.

He summoned the six to his chambers immediately upon his return, so immediate that even his coattails had no time to settle. He sent his advisors packing when they swarmed to his side upon arrival and took great pleasure in doing so. They reminded him of the Stellar Council, all voices of dissent, second guessing him at every turn but unwilling to be held responsible for the alternatives they suggested to their king. He made his decision, and he did not need anyone’s advice on the matter.

When Glendon arrived from flight duty as the last of the six, Lycasis outlined his plan to them. They would travel to this unknown planet, assess its possibilities and its liabilities, take as little or as long as it might, and then return to the Armada with a report. In the meantime, the Armada would set out from Gali to Farcourt. Whether the scouts were successful or not, the refugees would still need to travel. The more distance they could put between themselves and the wormholes the better. It would be easier to convince the Council and the Shargassi that the Armada was on the way to Shuree-Fain if the fleet were not still in orbit around Gali. Because the Arda liquid powered the ship engines, it made the Armada difficult to detect by ordinary measures. They could easily slip away on route to Farcourt after they traveled past Gali’s detection capability.

The six prospective scouts looked at each other and tried not to shout aloud or do a victorious dance. The adventure of it all, the discovery and exploration of a new world, captured Stuart’s imagination immediately. The possibility of gaining an ally that was not a member of the Stellar Council pleased Darien, and the excitement of going on a mission with her brothers appealed to Carrol. Brent never trusted airmen to understand the needs of the watermen and was eager to get a firsthand look at this new world and its water. Glendon recalled the old days when he was a member of the Air Command and relished the thought of going out on a mission again. Gareth thought of the times when he accompanied the much-admired General Maranta Shanaugh on missions and thoroughly enjoyed the experiences.

“Tell your families of your new orders and prepare to leave in no less than three days,” Lycasis told them. Three days, they all repeated in astonishment. “Time is of the essence,” Lycasis told them. “We must leave the Galian orbit immediately. I want us to be out of range should the Shargassi or their confederates come snooping. And, I want you gone should they come upon the Armada.”

“But if they should, you will need us, Father,” Darien objected.

“We can hold them away with six less people,” Lycasis assured him, “and this mission is vital to us. You must reach this new world ahead of anyone or anything from the Stellar Council, especially someone like the Scoda.”

“If you will allow me leave then, Your Majesty, I would like to see to the ships we will take,” Gareth said.

“Yes, I want you all to fly separately, in battle formation. It is a more practical application for movement so you will need a proper ship for yourself, Major Duncan.” Gareth bowed and headed for the main hanger. The others went their separate ways. Lycasis sat down before the main com on the bridge of the Quantid, called for attention from all decks of the fleet and addressed his subjects.

“My dear people of Thuringa, I will speak now of our upcoming plans so that you will know of the direction fate leads us. The Stellar Council is no longer a helpful body for our nation. Most of the members are concerned for their own and are unwilling or unable to be of assistance to us. The few who would aid us will be in danger of being overcome if they try. I will send a scouting party to the unknown world that lies between our destination and us. These scouts will evaluate the situation and contact the necessary officials if at all possible, for the future of our Armada Kingdom. The Armada itself will also set out for our looked-for New Thuringa. I remain ever your loving king, Lycasis Phillipi de Trennon of the Twenty-Fifth Rule.” He signed off and went to his personal quarters. Oriel would not like the idea of all three of her children on a potentially dangerous mission. Well, she did not have to like it; she only had to accept it.

Darien was already in the royal quarters to see her. Oriel was not happy but maintained a brave face. “All three of you,” she sighed. “Oh, life will not be the same here with you gone.”

“Probably a good deal duller,” Darien pointed out, and it made her smile.

“I prefer the term ‘peaceful’, but yes; it will also be dull.”

Janis and Echo were stunned to hear Glendon’s announcement that he was one of the scouts chosen to go. “Father, what about cadet training?” Echo asked.

“There are many worthy warriors to train you in my stead, and it was time to change trainers anyway. I have taken your training as far as I can. It is time for a fresh angle. They might call on the Medinas. There are many Medinas who know how to wield a sword.”

“How long will you be gone?” Janis asked.

“I do not know, dear one. It may be an exceedingly long time, or it may be simple and we will be back right away. But you know I will love you and keep you in my heart all the while.”

Janis was not in a panic by any means. It was inevitable that this new world would be explored. Glendon had been a Naradi Famede for so long, Janis knew it would be unthinkable for him not to go with the princes. It reflected well on Glendon to be chosen. Their family had been separated on other occasions of state, and Janis like any other Naradi Famede was prepared to accept such.

“In that case, I will offer to put in some time training the next consue class, to keep busy while you are gone,” Janis said as she held him tight. “But do be careful, my sweet Glendon. I know you are duty bound to throw yourself into harm’s way to protect the royal family, but do not take any unnecessary chances just for the sake of Garin legacy.”

“Is this where I should leave now?” Echo asked rhetorically as she went to the door.

“Yes, for a little while; your mother and I will be busy with that kissing business you so abhor,” Glendon chuckled, rubbing Janis’ nose with his nose.

“I do not abhor it in theory; but you are my parents. Ugh,” Echo said, and shut the door behind her as she left. Glendon and Janis laughed together.

“Aura darling,” Stuart said as he came in the doorway to their quarters, “I would like to talk to you and Erich.”

“He is at Academy getting books for your mother. Oh, let me guess at the subject,” Aura said unhappily, and continued as if reciting from memory. “Your father has chosen you to be the one to go on this latest mission. Naturally, you protested the mission, but to no avail.”

“No, I did not protest,” Stuart replied. “This is the first mission I have been on that will take me away from you and Erich since we left Thuringa. It is not as if I have sprung away at every chance, and I have never asked to leave you at any time. But this is an important mission for us, Aura. We are going to explore a whole new world, an unknown world, a world that we need to help see to the welfare of our people.”

“We who? Who is going with you?” Aura asked as she shrugged away the hands that reached out to hold her.

“Carrol, Glendon Garin, Gareth Duncan; your brother Brent, and Darien.” He wondered why her face suddenly paled at his words.

“Darien’s going?” Aura blurted out in dismay, and she nimbly sought something to add. “With the exception of Lieutenant Colonel Garin, all you are bringing with you is a collection of people who think with their reproductive systems.”

“At least theirs get exercise,” Stuart replied, disappointed she did not embrace him as other wives would at such a time. He went into the bedroom to sort through his wardrobe. He set aside a variety of off-duty apparel to take in case a uniform was not appropriate to wear on first introduction.

Aura stood in the front parlor in a state of alarm. Darien was going as well. Even though she could not fully enjoy Darien’s physical presence, she was able to see him every day and be near him until he did something to irritate her as usual. He was still the handsome man of her youth, and it was no surprise he attracted a number of women to himself. It was maddening to witness the way he drew them in and to know she was no priority to him. Aura would not put it past Darien to have arranged to go and take Stuart along just to spite her. She stalked into the bedroom and was surprised at her husband’s activity.

“Whatever are you doing, Stuart?”

“I am getting packed. We leave in three days.”

“Three days!” she exclaimed, astonished. “Why so soon?”

“Perhaps Father decided to shorten the time that you and I traditionally fight before I leave on a mission, like the old days,” he replied without humor.

“You act as though I enjoy fighting with you,” she objected.

“That is because that is exactly how you act. I have been going out of my mind to please you, Aura. You must have me confused with Darien. That is the sort of pastime he enjoys. Perhaps I should enjoy fighting with you as well. It would give me something to do.”

“I could never confuse you with Darien,” Aura said hotly. “There is no comparison. But I did not marry him, I chose you.”

“Because you knew I loved you, and he did not?” Stuart asked, with what he assumed was a rhetorical question. He was not prepared for the reaction he received. She stomped on his foot in a raging fury and scratched him with her nails. He snatched her up and tossed her on the bed. “What is wrong with you?” he asked, alarmed as she scrambled to her knees with very un-Auralike savagery.

“Get out of my bedroom,” she ordered with a shaking hand pointing at the door. “Go on your mission, I do not care.”

“You are ordering me out, because I said I love you?” Stuart asked, perplexed. “Why? I do not understand.” Perhaps it was a delayed reaction, he thought. The shock of hearing he was leaving so soon must have finally hit her. Stuart felt a tender emotion well inside, and he reached for her. She slapped at his hands fiercely.

“You do not have to understand anything,” she said. She knew she was angry at the wrong man but went with the flow of her anger. “Just leave me now, Stuart. I am upset.”

“I thought this was our bedroom, Aura. What has gotten into you? Has space travel gotten to you so badly?” he asked with concern.

“Perhaps it is the fact you are always so eager to leave me and our son.”

“You just said you did not care, and now you—” He could not possibly keep up with the swiftly churning rapids of her thought process, so he gave up. “Well, you will not have to push me away much longer. I will be out of your life soon enough. We do not know what is out there on this new planet. Perhaps I will not come back at all; that ought to please you.”

Aura stared at him. The thought was frightening, and not what she wanted. She did not want Darien to go, true; but Stuart’s absence as well would make her abysmally lonely. Aura enjoyed his strong warm body beside her at night when their duty rosters permitted it. She even enjoyed making love to him on those infrequent times she allowed it these past few years. Her main fear was that if she let herself go, she might call out the wrong brother’s name in the heat of passion. The thought of Darien always left her unhappy, and Stuart was left to an unfair frustration in bed.

“No, you must not say that Stuart,” she said. “I simply fail to see why the crown requires an entire generation of royals on this mission. If there are that many people going, you ought to be able to stay. I do not see why they need you.”

“I am the Crown Prince, Aura. I am an emissary to this new world, and my office requires that I perform this duty. Were you not listening?” he asked testily now, tired of her perverse desire to argue with him.

“Of course, I listen. I just do not see why you are always so eager to leave.”

“I have not left your side in nearly ten years! Give me a reason to want to stay, Chilly.” Stuart was so rattled at her mysterious anger, he used the same name Darien gave her, and it made her hiss with fury. He walked out of the bedroom to let her cool down just as Erich came in the entry door. He did not want to leave his son to Aura’s unreasonable wrath or negative input, so Stuart suggested, “Come along, son. Let us go to the Standard and have a drink. I have some exciting news.”

Erich was happy to go. He guessed what the news was and proud his father had such an important mission.

Aura heard the door shut. Chilly! Chilly! How dare he use that horrid name! She did not want him to stay if Darien did not. She snatched up Stuart’s favorite off-duty shirt and ripped it in half. Tossing it aside, she reached for another.

Brent Ardenne told his son Triton, who naturally asked if he could go too. He took the answer ‘no’ as well as he could, but Brent could see the disappointment on in his eyes. Isador smiled as Brent promised to bring back whatever educational material the new planet might have to offer. At last, Triton announced he might wander over to the Smoke and Mirror. Isador took Brent by the arm and told Triton to take his time. “Your father and I have much to discuss,” she explained, and Triton went out the door.

“What do you want to discuss?” Brent asked her. “This is an assignment, a mission. I cannot stroll up to the king and say, ‘no thank you, but my wife will not give me her permission.”

“I did not say I would not let you,” she laughed.

“Then what is it?”

“I need help recalling a poetic passage.”

“What? Now? Why?”

“From the Tarinade,” she explained. “If you are going to be gone for a long time, we had better make certain we do not forget certain things.”

Brent Ardenne smiled his saucy smile. Oh, yes. Isador was a prize among women.