Chapter 2 - Mutant Friend
Allyn, Juan and Drake, the other three Guard escorts, were arrayed around the entrance of the head-high cave, guarding it and kicking some of the rubble from around the entrance. Tymos was two paces ahead of his sister when he reached the level section of the trail. The path continued further up the hill.
“Have you checked further up?” Tymos asked before Allyn or the others could speak. He held his tongue about the foolishness of kicking rocks off the ledge. Not only might they hit someone below, but if the aliens came up, or flew over, the clear area would betray the fact that someone had been there recently.
“Of course, Prince Tymos,” Allyn seemed offended. “It dead ends at a dried up water basin.”
“Fine, let’s get inside,” Tymos directed, walking between the guardsmen and going in. Allyn made to follow immediately and then stopped, realising that etiquette required him to allow Kryslie to precede him. She in turn, while aware of his embarrassment, gave no sign and simply followed her brother.
The interior of the cave was dark, once the rock overhang blocked the sun. Allyn activated a hand light and shone it around. “This cave has been used before, quite recently. There are places for rush-lights. Those remains over there still smell of burnt oil.”
“Why don’t you relight the rushes,” Tymos suggested mildly. “And sit them in the holders?”
Frest, following them inside, moved to obey. He could only make two of them burn, but that gave enough light. The rushes smoked a bit at first, but the smoke seemed to be drawn out of the cave entrance.
Kryslie automatically studied the cave. She saw that the walls of the cave had been smoothed, and alcoves had been excavated all around. It made it hard to pick where the tunnel leading into the mountain began. She moved and let senses other than the common five, search for a place of difference. As she succeeded, she sensed Mithas waiting for her mind touch, and invited him to join her.
As if unaware of his approach, Tymos gave directions to the guards. “Three of you, go and find positions where you can observe the approaches from the east, north and west.”
“Prince Tymos, with respect, we have orders to guard…”
Kryslie decided to forego tact. “If you were not two hundred percent sure that this cave was safe, you would not have let us in,” she pointed out. “We will be out of sight while we wait for Mithas. He has sent messages to the tribes that are within a days travel from here. Representatives are on their way. You are to watch for them, report, and stay out of sight. Understood?”
Allyn tensed with disapproval. “Yes, Princess Kryslie,” he said stiffly. His mind was betraying his belief that she should have gone back to the Royal Estate with her father. His mind was practically shouting it.
Keeping her voice even, Kryslie told him, “Allyn, we may be the Heir Designates of His Majesty, but we are neither brainless nor untrained. No matter what you think.”
His mind shouted, “But you’ve only been on Tymorea for a year.” His face went red.
“Yes, we were quite old when we arrived. Yes, we had all sorts of odd human notions. However, President Reslic has been our personal trainer since then. I expect you know what that means.”
He did, and mentally winced as Kryslie went on, “Governor Xyron has personally overseen our learning program and Father has made sure we know how to behave. Everything he knows about diplomacy, negotiation, and leadership, he has shared with us. We are the best people for this task. We have already befriended Mithas, and he will listen to us more readily than to any other official envoy.”
“But you are still children…”
“Allyn, we are not children!” Kryslie said sharply.
Allyn swallowed anything else he wanted to say. He directed Frest to remain in the cave and went with Drake and Juan to observe the approaches.
Frest looked uncomfortable, as he stood watching the High King’s heirs. Tymos turned and spoke to him.
“Relax, won’t you,” Tymos invited.
The younger Guardsman began to obey, but then yelped and quickly drew his stunner. Without looking around, Tymos pushed his arm down.
Eyes wide with fright at seeing the newcomer, Frest tried to protest, “Prince Tymos there is…”
Kryslie had seen Mithas emerge from the hidden tunnel and greeted him warmly. “Mithas, thank you for your offer of help.”
Once Frest seemed ready to trust the stranger, Tymos turned his attention to Mithas, but spoke to explain to Frest. “When we escaped from Warlord Kellex, one of the Aeronite commanders, Mithas helped us get a message to Father.”
“Little Royals helped us first,” Mithas announced. “Prove they more friend than dark eyes.”
Frest opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak, and then shut it. His mind revealed that he did not want to offend the apparition that had appeared from solid rock. However, the mention of ‘dark-eyes’ had reminded him of the aliens that had infiltrated the Royal Estate and attacked the guards in an attempt to abduct the High Kings heirs.
Tymos sensed the worry and decided to explain further. “Mithas may not look like the common conception of a mutant, but I can assure you that he is no longer in league with the aliens. His mutation is not obvious. He is a telepath.”
Frest stiffened again, his apprehension growing.
“Tark and Gorren look like mutants,” Mithas said blandly as two more figures emerged from the hidden tunnel. Frest’s hand jerked back up to aim his stunner at the figures.
“Put it down, Frest!” Tymos ordered. “When Kellex sent his warriors to get us back, he proved how little he regarded his allies. Mithas offered to assist us to make contact with other mutant tribes. We must work to get them all on our side.”
Mithas spat a glob of saliva at Frest’s feet. “More than then. False friends don’t care if us dead. Little Royals did care. Protected us, treat us as people. Help them I will. Promised. Old allies, liars are.”
Slowly, Frest lowered his weapon. The three mutants did not make a threatening move, and he saw that both Prince Tymos and Princess Kryslie were relaxed. He still wasn’t completely convinced because he was swallowing convulsively. Though that might have been because both Tark and Gorren did look like the stereotype of a mutant - both were short, heavily muscled in a craggy way and their facial features were twisted and distorted.
The lack of trust did not anger Mithas. He was used to that reaction from Tymorean commoners. He took amusement from saying, “Tark has pretty daughter. Not like him.”
Instead of reassuring Frest, it made him swallow harder. It made him even more nauseous to think that some woman had mated to this…this gargoyle, and that the mutants were so unstable, physically, that they couldn’t breed ‘true’, or consistently.
Kryslie took pity on the young guardsman. She was empathically aware of how he was feeling. “Why don’t you keep watch from the cave entrance? You will have better radio reception from there.”
“Yes. Yes, mam,” he agreed whole-heartedly. He gave the three mutants a long searching look and turned to obey.
Mithas chuckled quietly. “Others not far. We get place ready. Tark and Gorren move rocks for seats. They strong.”
His mind implied, “Not the brightest.”
Tymos watched as the two mutants hefted boulder sized rocks from within the alcoves. He decided not to help. He was a guest. Mithas nodded with satisfaction, and amusement.
“This our greeting place. Leave it rough we do.”
Kryslie watched Tark flip the boulder he was lifting, and place it in the centre of the cave. Gorren did the same with his burden. Now the rough looking boulders proved to have smooth bases, roughly concave. When there was a loose circle of five stone seats, each with a small rock table between them, Mithas remarked, “We not uncivilised savages. We bring guesting stuff too. Expected it is.”
“I am suitably educated,” Kryslie admitted dryly. “Our studies did not tell us much about your lifestyle.”
“Big Royals don’t visit and you little Royals not sweep us under mat,” Mithas said.
“No, we won’t ignore the mutants,” Tymos promised. “You are Tymoreans, and we must all act together to remove the alien infiltrators.”
“You not like big Royals. Good it is that the king whelped two smart ones and kept you hid.”
“Indeed,” Kryslie agreed, sensing that Mithas was blocking some of his memories. She wondered why but it wasn’t time to push the issue. She asked instead, “Tell us about the leaders you invited.”
The shrill squawk of feedback from a handheld radio drew all eyes Guardsman Frest. He blushed as he fiddled with the control pad.
Seeing no immediate threat, and identifying the cause of the noise, Prince Tymos turned back to his conversation with Mithas. The mutant dropped his hands from his tormented ears and glanced over his shoulder at his two fellow tribesmen.
“Women you are! Noise is only,” he growled at his tribesmen who still had fingers jammed into their ears.
Princess Kryslie stepped away from her brother and walked to Frest. “I assume Allyn has returned. Go and tell him to come here to report.”
Frest seemed eager to comply. He nodded his head and turned abruptly, not quite running out of the entrance of the cave.
“Like us little, that one,” Mithas murmured to Tymos.
Kryslie heard the remark and added a comment of her own. “As much as they like being ordered around by children.” She waited by the opening for Frest and Allyn to return.
Mithas chuckled. “Like you, me, they not. See they do, outside only.”
Tymos grinned wryly. Mithas had sent that comment mentally.
The mutant went on, “Pity it is, too weak to think distant, need squawk box to talk it.”
“Our way is more discreet,” Tymos agreed, feeling a shiver of premonition. He heard Kryslie add her own comment, as booted feet trotted up the rocky path to the cave. “If they are not careful, the aliens will triangulate our position. If any of them happen to be nearby, they will have heard that squawk.”
Guardsman Allyn came to a halt at the cave door.
“Come in, Allyn,” Kryslie invited, walking without concern to stand next to her brother. She watched Allyn glancing around as he tentatively moved forward. Frest would have reported the unexpected arrival of the mutants.
“For the Guardian’s sake, Allyn, will you stop acting like Mithas has invited a dozen enemies in here since you went out? Give us your report before we die of boredom,” she continued.
Allyn jerked as if he had been insulted, but he covered his reaction by bowing to the two Royals.
“Prince Tymos, Princess Kryslie, Drake and Juan have seen mutants, er, people, approaching from north and north east. There is a third group coming from the west.”
“Numbers?” Tymos barked the question in a tone he copied from the Tymorean President, Jono Reslic.
Allyn reacted to it. “Five or six in each group,” he reported.
“ETA?” Kryslie asked, copying her brother’s tone. Allyn twitched again.
“An hour or an hour and a half.”
Tymos gave the next direction. “Tell Drake and Juan to scout the back trail of the groups they are watching. Have Frest do the same for the third group. Tell them to keep all transmissions as brief as possible and to keep out of sight. We do not want to scare off our guests. When they return, after our guests have arrived, they are to find observation points outside of the cave.”
“Yes, Sir,” Allyn managed to give the accepted response.
“And you,” Kryslie added, “Will return in here and wait in the small side cavern off this one.”
Mithas, aware of the thoughts that Kryslie had kept to herself, added, “Mutants see fancy clothes and run back away.”
Allyn kept his face impassive. He had, during the past two days, refused the suggestion that he exchange his Palace Guard uniform for dull coloured travelling clothes and cloaks like the Tymos and Kryslie had adopted, though his companions had muddy brown coloured cloaks to put over their uniforms.
His acknowledgement came through clenched teeth. “Yes, Sir.”
With out requesting permission to depart, he turned abruptly and left the cave.
“Let’s deal with Allyn after this meeting,” Tymos proposed. “I estimate that the visitors will arrive sooner than he allowed.”
Mithas chuckled again. “Mutants run fast.” He then ordered his hovering tribesmen to, “Get guesting drink ready and bring two long, hooded capes for the little Royals.”
He grinned at Kryslie and explained, “Little Royals don’t scare mutants, only big ones. But you not short little and fire hair give you away.”
Kryslie gave a wry grin. “You are right, Mithas,” she admitted aloud.
Allyn returned to the cave, firmly controlling his instinct to glance around, but his jerky movements and rapid eye motion betrayed him. He spotted two more figures in grey hooded capes and almost drew his hand weapon.
Only when one of the figures lowered their hood and turned so the torch light glinted off red hair, did he realise who the figures were. He bowed stiffly and reported. “The groups are moving faster than we estimated. They will arrive in half an hour.”
Tymos nodded. “Wait in the inner cave.”
Kryslie deliberately stressed, “You will not interfere, and you will need neither sword nor stunner.” She met the guardsman’s eyes until he nodded stiffly and retreated to the inner cave. He paused but did not acknowledge when Mithas said, “Big Royals wouldn’t send little Royals if they not able to talk right.”
“A point Allyn had better think on while he is waiting,” Kryslie thought at her brother. “He is a palace guard, and not of high enough rank to second guess President Reslic.”
His real problem was that he was that he was twice the age of the ‘children’ he was guarding, and had children of his own.