Lesser Prince (Guardians of Gaeland Book 1) Page 2

  Chey (pronounced shay) was something of an enigma. He was gone for days at a time, sometimes weeks. Tig knew his dad worked with animals, but really had no idea just what that entailed. Chey often came home with cuts and bruises, explaining that it was part of the job and Tig shouldn’t worry.

  While dangerous, Chey’s job didn’t provide much income and Tig learned to pull his own weight. Most days, he got up early enough to make sure the animals were fed before heading to school. After school and on weekends, he walked to the store to sell his eggs, finished his school work and picked up the slack on whatever his dad hadn’t had time to get to around the house. He even learned how to cook - much to Chey’s enjoyment. They couldn’t afford a TV, so Tig grew up reading any book he could get his hands on. The small public library was a frequent stop, its broad collection of literature a tribute to the solid values of the community. Tig spent no small amount of time there, especially when Chey was gone and the house was too quiet. All in all, it was an easy, if lonely, life.

  While the day may have started like so many others, Tig found his mind wandering in algebra. He had a feeling that Chey was on his way home, even though he wasn’t sure what his dad’s schedule was. As Mr. Greydock droned on about X’s and Y’s, Tig tuned it all out. A nagging sense of dread had been weighing on him for the last day. Initially, he’d been able to put it aside, but now in a quiet moment in class, he knew something terrible had happened.

  Tig stood up, grabbed his books and headed to the front of the classroom. Mr. Greydock positioned himself between Tig and the door. “Please sit down, Mr. Parnassus, class is not over.”

  “Uh, I’m going to be sick.” Tig brushed past the teacher.

  His bike wasn't fancy, but since he’d ridden a bike to and from school for most of his childhood, he could make it fly when he wanted to. Any other day, he would have loved the rush, but today, fear gripped him.

  In front of his house sat an expensive car, completely out of place in the neighborhood. A lump formed in his throat. Still breathing hard from his exertion, the constriction turned his deep breaths ragged. What had happened? He bounded up the front steps, tears already blurring his vision. Tig wanted desperately to be wrong, to have the uncanny intuition fail him, just this once.

  Tig fumbled with the front screen door and tried to look through it. With a tug, he stumbled into the living room. Two strangers looked up from a whispered conversation as he entered. He scanned their faces and determined they didn’t present an immediate threat.

  The man and woman were dressed similarly in dark green shirts and blue jeans. But it was their features that made Tig think they could be related. The woman was slightly shorter, but neither was more than an inch taller than Tig. They both had the same slim rugged build he and his dad shared.

  The man took a small step forward, concern on his weathered face. “He’s in the bedroom, Tigerious.” The use of Tig’s full name took him off guard, but with rising concern for his father, he sprinted toward the back of the house.

  Tig entered his father’s room and saw Chey’s still body on the small bed. His father lay on top of the covers, partially dressed, with bandages and bruises covering his athletic body. Blood soaked through some of the wrappings and his eyes were closed.

  Next to the bed sat an elegantly dressed woman in a dark green, full-length dress. Blonde hair flowed down her back and her face was fair and smooth. In a word, she was beautiful - completely stunning. Tig spared her a glance and got the strangest feeling that he recognized her.

  Turning his attention back to the bed, he crossed the small distance and picked up his father’s hand. It was cooler than it should have been. Fear spread through Tig as he reached to touch Chey’s unmoving face. He felt a slight breath and the blood pulsing through his father’s neck. At least he was alive.

  The elegant woman stood. She gently addressed him in a soft voice, “Tigerious.” When Tig remained focused on his father, the woman reached out and picked up his free hand, tugging gently. Her beautiful face was lined with concern. “Oh, Tigerious, I am so sorry that we must meet under these conditions. Your father is in grave danger.”

  Many things raced through Tig’s mind, but he had to focus on the most pressing, “What is it? Why is he so cold? Why isn’t he at the hospital?”

  The woman nodded, understanding his questions, “It's not that simple, Tigerious. I have seen to his physical wounds, but your father has been poisoned by something not of this world.” She stopped, letting the words sink in.

  “I … I … don’t understand,” Tig stuttered, as his mind whirred.

  "Tigerious, I am not sure how much you actually know about what your father does, but he was attacked by something very dangerous. It should have killed him. We are very lucky that it was unsuccessful.” The woman was earnest but gentle.

  Tig considered her words as he sat on the bed, still holding both the woman’s hand as well as his father’s. He fought back tears. His father was usually larger than life, full of energy and motion. Seeing him on the bed was nearly too much for Tig and tears again welled in his eyes.

  Without turning from Chey, Tig addressed the woman, “Who are you? Do you work with Dad?”

  “Tigerious, I had hoped to meet you under different circumstances. I am Gelasius, your father’s sister. I haven’t seen you or my brother since you were very young.” Her voice softened as she recalled the memory.

  “Dad’s sister?” Tig looked her up and down. “I didn’t know he had a sister.” He felt off balance again, too much information all at once.

  Just then, the man from the front room quietly entered the bedroom. Looking first at Tig, he gave a nod and then addressed Tig’s aunt, "Princess Gela, there is not much time. We must go. We cannot adequately defend ourselves in this place, not against what attacked Prince Chey."

  "Thank you, Laux," she said. "Were you able to acquire a suitable transport?”

  “Yes, Princess Gela. It is on its way.” Laux had a rough voice and spoke quickly and quietly.

  Gela continued, “Tigerious, I know this is a lot to take in. It is imperative that we move Chey to a safer place. I need your permission to do this. But before you say yes, you need to know that if you allow us to take your father back to our home where we can protect him and heal his wounds, he will likely be upset with your decision. There isn't enough time to explain why this is so, but you can be assured it is true. Unfortunately, there is no other way. As long as he is unprotected, he is in grave danger.”

  Tig dropped both hands he held and stood up. He looked at Laux, back to Gela, and straightened. “Yes.” His voice was quiet and resolute. “I’m not sure how I know this, but danger is coming. We will go with you.”

  “Thank you, Tigerious.” Princess Gela motioned to Laux, who bowed slightly and left the room. “Listen carefully,” she said to Tig.” There are things you should know. Your father is a prince. He is second in line to the throne of the House of Parnassus. That also makes you a prince. Prince Tigerious, you are third in line to this very same throne.” She let the words hang for only a moment. “Tigerious, the three people accompanying me - Laux, Tensel and Naminee have sworn to protect our family at any cost. This includes you. You will put them in danger if you do not follow their instructions.”

  Tig considered her words, not sure how to respond. There would be time to think about all of this when things settled down. Nothing made sense - he was surviving on instinct alone. But he sensed the truth in what she was saying and felt a pressing need to get his father to safety.

  “I will do my best,” he responded.

  “That is all I can ask.”

  When Laux returned, he stood in the doorway, not speaking. Having retaken her original position beside Chey, Gela inquired, "What is it, Laux?"

  "The van is here. Tensel will drive. There is only room for one other, and it is a long trip. I would like you to start moving right away. If you would accompany Prince Chey to keep him comfortable, Naminee and I will lo
ok after the young prince. His help would be appreciated in rounding up his livestock for the trip.”

  Tig considered Laux's request odd. He desperately wanted to accompany his father. While Laux was technically right, the animals couldn’t survive without someone to look after them, it wasn’t his top concern. But, his father would have thought of the animals first, so Tig nodded his endorsement.

  “It is settled then. We will leave at once. Laux, I charge you with the safety of my nephew and heir to the House of Parnassus.” Her voice was initially formal and then turned softer, almost pleading, “Please, stay safe.”

  Laux stepped forward, "Milady, we have sworn an oath to the House of Parnassus. I vow that no harm will come to Prince Tigerious while we still draw breath." He opened his hand and placed it over his heart, bowing at the waist. While he had delivered his words quietly, they were delivered with an energy that left no doubt to the strength of his commitment.

  Gela, eyes glistening, was evidently moved, "Laux, you honor us all."

  The woman, Naminee, and the other man, Tensel, rolled a gurney into the already crowded room. The group circled the bed, gently grabbed fistfuls of sheet, lifted Chey onto the gurney, and rolled him gingerly outside.

  A dark panel van with painted-out back windows waited in the drive. Tig accompanied the gurney, holding Chey's cold hand. Tig looked forlornly at his father’s small body and sadness threatened to overtake him. As if in response, Princess Gelasius embraced him and whispered in his ear. “We will keep your father safe, please do not worry. I am so glad to have met you.” Gela gave Tig a warm kiss on the cheek before releasing him and climbed into the van next to her brother.

  As Tig pulled the door closed, she instructed him gently, "Swift travel, Prince Tigerious.”

  The van pulled away and Tig fought to contain his emotions as he watched the tail lights disappear around a corner. Before he had a chance to think about the events further, Naminee walked up behind him and simply said, "My prince, those goats won’t load themselves."

  Elendahl Ranch

  Colorado, West Slope

  Lester Elendahl slammed the phone down and swore under his breath. The unmistakable stress on his face worried his leggy, tomboy daughter Amber. She was concerned with her father’s quiet outburst, as it was very much out of place for him.

  “Dad, was that Jax Fenhall again?” Jax, the owner of a nearby ranch ten times the size of the Elendahl’s, had been pressuring Lester to sell to him. Times were tough and money was tight. The outstanding loan at the bank could only be repaid with this year’s hay harvest. It was literally a make or break year for the Elendahl family.

  Jessie, Lester’s wife, entered the kitchen. She was ruggedly handsome, slim, and shorter than average, with shoulder-length auburn hair. She walked with the pride of a person who has always had to make do and wouldn’t have it any other way. “What did you tell him, Les?” she asked.

  “I told him that I appreciated his interest but we would be fine. I just don’t know where he’s getting his information,” Lester explained in quiet frustration, “I’d expect our business with the bank to be confidential.”

  “That will just have to wait,” Jessie interrupted in a strong, sure voice. “It's time to get rolling.” They locked eyes as Jessie instilled a fresh sense of confidence into her husband. It had always been this way. Jessie unerringly steered the ship, so to speak. She knew what was right and if she didn’t, she soon figured it out. Upbeat and undaunted, Jessie swept everyone else along in her wake.

  “Amber, make sure Samuel is out of bed and in the truck. He's got fifteen minutes.” Samuel was twelve years old and couldn’t have been more different than the rest of his family. He was slightly built, fair-skinned and bookish. His straight, soft, blonde hair had a life of its own and defied any sort of grooming. Sam never cared what he wore, usually sticking with worn-out jeans, a t-shirt and tennis shoes. The only thing he cared about was which book he was reading. He pulled his weight around the ranch, completing his chores every day, but it was as obvious as the large glasses on his face that Samuel wasn’t cut out for ranching.

  Amber had just turned sixteen and was a little taller than her mother. She was dressed in her nicest gear; cowboy boots, denim jeans and a fancy embroidered western dress shirt. With light brown, short-cropped straight hair, she was pretty in a farm-girl way. Her body was lean and strong and her hands were rough like her dad's. Amber loved nothing more than to work beside him. Horses were her particular passion, but she loved everything about running the ranch.

  Today, however, was not a work day. The whole family was going to the fairgrounds to compete in a county-wide riding competition. Most everyone camped and turned the weekend into a mini vacation. Anyone who wanted to ride or compete would have an opportunity, no matter their skill level or experience. You could go to have fun, relax and watch the show or like Amber, participate in the heavy-duty rivalry that existed between the ranches.

  Samuel chose to kick back and relax. He was the only one in the family who wasn’t bringing a horse. Sam was a capable enough rider and participated in competitions when he was younger. Now that he had some say in it, however, the idea of competing made no sense to him. He loved horses, he just didn’t see any point in hopping up on one and driving it around barrels, poles or just about anything else.

  “SAAAM! Get yer butt down here!” Amber wailed from the bottom of the stairs. Fortunately, their parents had already gone outside, as yelling in the house was frowned upon.

  Sam yelled back down the stairs, “C'mon, Bert, gimme a break!”

  As he entered the kitchen, Amber considered her brother. He was quiet like their dad, but otherwise hard to figure out. The only bond she really felt she had with him was their love for animals. But if animals were everything to Amber, they were only a small part of Sam’s world. He had endless energy for exploring absolutely every subject and every puzzle the universe brought to his attention.

  There didn’t seem to be a subject Sam couldn’t teach himself, which probably made him some sort of a genius. Really, anyone who read as much as Sam did should be a genius, just for spending that much time doing it. Despite their differences, Amber and Sam shared a great appreciation for each other and typically got along. Together, they left the house to help with final preparations before departing for the Fair.

  The Elendahl ranch wasn’t terribly large and the western slopes of Colorado weren’t much for cash crops like corn and beans, although they could grow as much hay as any rancher would need. Unfortunately, you really couldn’t keep a ranch alive by just feeding your animals and you couldn’t sell enough hay to make a living. So the Elendahls were in the horse business.

  Lester was known for his way with horses. It was said that he could calm even the jitteriest horse by just standing in the stall with it. Lester spent a great deal of time undoing the damage other ranchers had done to their poor animals and most of the ranch’s income was from breaking and training the area’s most difficult and temperamental horses.

  As Amber got outside, she noticed that Wild Grey wasn't in the trailer and suspected her father was waiting for her. Grey was a registered Arabian mare with tremendous lineage and they were lucky to have her. She was the prize of the Elendahl ranch and Amber had won first place ribbons with Grey at every competition.

  The barn held twenty-five horses and had an attached indoor arena for winter training. Stalls lined both sides of the barn and one end opened to a pasture where well-behaved horses could run during the day. The horses that weren’t so well-behaved were exercised daily in the arena or taken out for a short ride.

  After loading Grey into the trailer, she found her mom and dad in the office talking quietly. Lester smiled and asked, “Ready, kiddo?” Amber didn’t think it was right for him to call her kiddo since she was nearly an adult, but didn’t feel like pushing it today. Besides, arguing with him was like arguing with a fence post.

  As they clambered into the truck, Sam was already
in the back, engrossed in a book. She was amazed at how oblivious her little brother could be to the day's excitement. Amber made sure to bump him as she slid into the seat. Unsurprised, Samuel didn’t even react, other than to push his glasses back up his nose.

  The Elendahl family left the house just after sunup. Since the fairground was nearby, they arrived early in the day and as usual, were there before most everyone else. Lester liked to leave extra time to allow the horses to settle in. As he backed the trailer into a slot, Amber watched four Fenhall trucks pulling new trailers drive onto the grounds. They traveled in style, Amber thought jealously. The Fenhalls set up camp directly across the road. Amber desperately wished they'd park elsewhere.

  Ardt Fenhall, also sixteen years old, would certainly take this opportunity to visit. He gave Amber the creeps. He was taller than she and rumored to be strong as an ox. She also knew firsthand that Ardt had a real mean streak. As an upper classman in their high school, he was a bully, going after anyone who caught his eye, including Sam.

  Once the vehicle stopped, Amber, Jessie and Lester hopped out - the comfort and wellbeing of the horses foremost on their minds. Samuel, however, was engrossed in his book and made no move to leave his seat. Amber felt a flash of impatience but decided to let it go. Why would anyone want to sit in a stuffy old truck when they could be outside?

  Two other horses were in the trailer besides Grey. Amber led them out and secured them to a rope that Jessie tied between two nearby trees. She filled buckets of water and put a small pile of hay on the ground. Loud, raucous country music blared from across the road and the horses stamped and fidgeted, showing their displeasure at the noise. According to the rules of the Fair, loud music wasn’t allowed. Amber, now seriously annoyed, started heading for the Fenhall camp.