2 Noble Hour

Noble Hour

Book Two

of Flight of the Armada

Jay Michael Jones

copyright 2009 by Jay Michael Jones

Smashwords Edition

Dedicated to Katie, Drew and Will and the Comics Curmudgeons

Cover Design by Wille Thompson

Photo by Jesse Duke

Cover model: Kate Gervais

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Contents

10. The Isle of New Thuringa

11. The Homecoming

12. Noble Hour

13. Brother Against Brother

14. While You Were Gone

15. My Penance

16. Best Regards

17. Catch A Wave

18. Untapped Sources

19. His Naughtiness

Glossary

Other Books

About the Author

Noble Hour

Chapter 10: The Isle of New Thuringa

You have a choice, Maranta. When you die, you will travel the Path on to the Great Hall where the God of All awaits you. Our ancestors traveled this way from the first moment of time. You will be at peace for eternity.

However, you have another choice, one that will give your spirit wings to fly free. The Great Hall will always be there but you may journey down a different path. You may travel along with us, the living, in spirit. I cannot guarantee you happiness or certainty. All I can offer to you is a chance to live again to conquer your foes. If your soul should find a resting-place, may it find it in a companionable soul.

If that is not what you desire, then breathe deeply these last moments of the world and let your body feel the warm embrace of its final love. Let your soul drift up out from the now and choose the way of the Path you so richly deserve. Travel on to the Great Hall and join our waiting kindred of the past or release your spirit into a new adventure. You will be free, beyond pain and breath.

Those were the words Queen Oriel Phillipi de Saulin whispered as he lay dying in the medical bay on Old Thuringa. Maranta saw with strange detachment his body lying calm and peaceful beside Carrol, his bride of only four days. The sight of her thrilled him momentarily. It pained him to see her grieve, so raw and excruciating in its power but she had family to comfort her now. In time she would recover from her loss and be happy again. Maranta was dead but his spirit, as Queen Oriel said, was free.

He drifted up through the medical building until he soared through the skies, the upper atmosphere and into the star-dusted darkness of space. There before him floated a flowing path much like a wormhole of space except it was golden bright and inviting. He marveled at its unearthly beauty for a time, pleased the Book of Prayers kept its promises. A streaking fighter jet caught his attention at the periphery of his notice. To leave his people now when he might perhaps still be of service to them was unthinkable if there was a way for the Warrior General to help. He saw the squadrons he so carefully trained in the before time, rush to the defense of their populace. He watched the battles with interest, concerned for the valiant surviving Air Command warriors. At one point Maranta raced alongside the lead Thuringi fighter planes and attempted to test himself against the Shargassi fleet. But he was nothing; less than smoke and powerless to physically affect the outcome of the physical universe. He was a mere observer and the realization of the futility halted further attempts to aid his people. He looked for the Path but not a trace of the shining opening remained.

The Path of All was gone! All three hundred twenty-five years of dutiful attendance at Thuringi religious services told him of the necessity to travel the Path of All when he took his final breath. It had been right there before his eyes but as in every aspect of his life, he placed his king and people before himself. Well, the queen assured him it would be there in the future for him. Perhaps he could still do something for Thuringa.

Ever since his death Maranta followed the Armada, foregoing the Path of All for the sake of his beloved people. He set out with the scouts when they journeyed to Earth. He was pleased with their progress and alarmed at what they faced on this strange cloistered world. Often times he left the group to explore the Earth on his own. Sometimes he observed Brent Ardenne's sea exploration; sometimes he watched over the ranch inhabitants. He was instrumental in getting Glendon to the Gentry house in time to save the couple from a terrible beating by robbers and he was pleased to know Gareth and Carrol were so fond of each other. He was particularly proud of the Phillipi brothers who met individual challenges with grace and principle.

But the person who interested him the most was their Earthian contact Michael Sheldon. Michael was a genuinely good soul and his steadfast spirit drew Maranta to him. He stayed with Michael a great deal of the time, trusting the scouts would use their Thuringi training and instinct to see them through their trials.

Earth was full of spirits like himself. The population of the Earth was larger than many generations of Thuringi combined and the spirit world was even larger. Many of these were drawn to Maranta's spirit, powerful and intent on its own purpose. They followed him about, distracted from their own sad state. It was not his place to give them orders but they did not hinder his business and at times were actually quite helpful.

Darryl Sheldon successfully convinced the governmental agents investigating the Thuringi scouts that he and his son had no idea their gesture of kindness would be such a big fuss to the government. Darryl said the six people his son Michael befriended were victims of a natural disaster and it never occurred to him to question it. They left his ranch in good condition and his cattle were no worse for the company. None of the surrounding neighbors had any complaints; why should he?

Michael was every bit the wide-eyed innocent even when the investigators pointed out these six natural disaster victims spent hundreds of dollars on furniture and appliances during their stay. All the time he spent away from the Thuringi now served them well. Michael appeared to simply be a third party who knew them well enough to speak factually but distanced enough to be merely an observer and little more. Well, they worked hard; just ask anyone around here. They grew their own crops.

But they didn’t have the right to work here. What about taxes?

Taxes on what?

The investigators were annoyed. Because Darien was paid under the table in cash by his oil company employer and Glendon was paid in bartered goods as well as in cash by the Gentry's feed store, there was no record of earnings. They spent hundreds of U.S. dollars on furnishings; beds and a television and a refrigerator, among other things. Where did they get the money? Where are those furnishings, Dr. Sheldon?

Well, I don't know! I'm as surprised as you are!

You came out here on several occasions, did you not?

I wanted to see how they were getting along. They were living on my land, after all.

Didn’t you know they were aliens?

I knew they had accents, but that doesn’t automatically make them foreigners, Michael replied, careful to word his statement truthfully as possible.

Didn't you ask to see their passports?

They said they had been in a storm and lost everything. I've seen many people in that same situation. This is Oklahoma, gentlemen! I've known people to lose all trace of their existence in tornadoes so it didn't surprise me at all.

Where did you meet them, Dr. Sheldon? the chief investigator asked.

I met them when my car broke down, and they happened along and helped me. They mentioned they had no place to live. I knew the ranch was sitting there empty so I offered them use of it.

You just offered them your ranch, without knowing anything about them? the man asked skeptically.

"This is Oklahoma, Michael repeated calmly. We do things like that all the time and anyway, it was hardly a bargain. You should have seen the place when they first came here; it was a mess. They fixed it up."

Strange how they moved out so swiftly.

I guess so. Michael shrugged nonchalantly. I wasn’t here at the time.

According to the residents at Iron Post, they claimed they were from a place called Thuringa. Do you know why they did not contact their embassy or the State Department?

No; I assumed they did but there was some sort of snag.

Perhaps because according to the State Department, there is no Thuringa!

Look, I am not responsible for places that aren't there.

The interrogator shook his head firmly. They had English accents.

Well, sweet Mary and Joseph! Michael declared in annoyance. My grandmother was a full-blooded Cherokee and I don't sound anything like her! It doesn't mean I'm not part Cherokee, does it? Look, you fellows seem to know as much if not more about them than I do. All I can tell you is they helped me, I helped them out, the people around Iron Post liked them, they didn't cause any trouble and they left. That's all I can tell you.

Michael sat patiently in the chair and waited, wondering if he was about to get nailed on an indefensible, undeniable fact and carted off to jail. Perhaps he would be turned over to the same people who threatened Michael’s friend Congressman Anthony Price. Perhaps he would never see the light of day again. Perhaps the Thuringi would be hunted down and threatened as well.

As the government investigators whispered their options to each other, the spirit of Warrior General Maranta Shanaugh watched the proceedings. He was not alone. Over the years as Maranta learned his limitations he also realized the potential of his spiritual state of being. He and the spirits of the more recent Earthian dead gathered around Michael in defense. The unseen but ominous presence of the spiritual beings gripped the agents, who were filled with a sudden dread. It was nothing any of them could explain and certainly nothing they would wish to admit to their co-workers: it was not logical or definable. There was no reason they should not continue the questioning but none of them dared. Maranta enveloped Michael in his protective aura as one of the spirits more malevolent than the rest hissed at the investigators. Michael wondered at the suddenly ashen faces of his interrogators and watched as to a man they all squirmed uncomfortably and glanced around as if in panic. Well, that's all then, the chief decided abruptly. Michael Sheldon was escorted out of the government building to the sidewalk where he breathed a sigh of relief and went home.

None of the investigators ever spoke about the incident again, not even to each other. The file was closed with the simple notation unable to confirm.

The Thuringi scouts' new quarters on the small island in the South Pacific were depressing in comparison to the comfortable naturally lit ranch house they fled. But on New Thuringa there was no one to come after them and ask questions which might twist around the truth. New Thuringa had no snow but the tropical heat guaranteed no frostbite and island living lessened the prospect of catching Earthian sicknesses.

The entire eastern side beach could be seen from the large smooth boulders surrounding the eastern entrance to the caves. Flat places among the upper boulders had narrow paths leading up to them, where the little brown and white island goats congregated. Brent showed a remarkable acceptance for the animals given they were land creatures and he, a proud Thuringi Aquatic. He coaxed them to approach by using slices of fruit or tasty leaves. From there it was a matter of scratching their ears and showering affection and care on them to gain their trust.

The area around the peak was lush with vegetation. A stony ridge ran along the eastern side and on either side of it was jungle growth. Along the northwest a series of low waterfalls fed into a small pool in the jungle area. The elevation on the northernmost end of the island tapered down to a tip of large sandy dunes with coconut trees standing a stalwart and fruitful guard.

Their private quarters were spacious but dark. It was up to each to decide how to illuminate his particular room. Glendon replaced his hammock with a bedroom suite from Peru. Its ornately carved leaves and vines along the headboard and legs and posts suited the farmer-at-heart in Glendon. He left the back wall clear to paint a mural. He found impressionist painting fascinating and slowly created a Thuringi version of Sunday in the Park along one side of his room.

Stuart derived particular enjoyment in carving designs into plain pine furniture. It was like sculpting in butter after having spent so many years carving rock-hard Dorea wood on Thuringa. He affixed window frames to his walls at normal window intervals and put lights behind them, letting the light come in through the glass panes. He would have liked to have done the same kind of thing for his quarters on the flagship Quantid but no one had the luxury of time and material.

Darien’s room was a study in indirect lighting creating a soothing glow to the cavern room. He kept a cabinet on one end of the room with bright lights behind its doors in order to work on chemicals experiments and test potions. Unlike his twin Stuart, Darien did not mind the dark caverns so he always kept the cabinet doors closed until needed.

Carrol chose soft fluffy pillows and comforters to adorn her bed to the frilly shaded lamps on her nightstand and other tables. She was the first one to put carpet on her floor, an idea quickly adopted by the others. Handmade quilts from Oklahoma hung on the walls reflected a very Thuringi warm walls style of decorating that was like going home.

A bed, a wardrobe and a rocking chair were the only items Brent needed. The rest of his room held a strange collection of torn fishing nets as a warm wall type of hanging and old harpoons in a recovered Etruscan vase. He was not concerned how his room looked; he did not spend a lot of time there. Without his wife Isador bedrooms were strictly for sleeping and there was no need to decorate just for that. His one nod to decorating was to cover the ceiling in white Christmas bulb lights. He said it was like lying on the deck of the Isador and looking up at the night sky.

Gareth had very little time to devote to decorating. He was so busy most of the time he had no urge to do anything about his room. His decorating imagination ran on function more than form. Carrol finally took matters into her own hands and decorated it for him. Each bedroom had a wall with shelves carved into the rock and on Gareth’s shelves Carrol put his growing photo collection of the scout’s adventures on Earth. She neatly arranged the tools and odds and ends of things he picked up and worked on as the mood struck him. She used pole lamps with which he could adjust the direction of the light.

All their beds were king-sized but his was the one bed with silk sheets. No one but he and Carrol knew this information and no one else but them needed to know. It was Gareth’s only nod to a luxury item. Some nights when the other scouts rested or slept in their own rooms, he and Carrol took the opportunity to romp with each other and it was either between the silk sheets in his bed or the brushed cotton sheets in hers.

They enjoyed the wonderful feeling of holding each other close to share a quiet moment together. They were not obvious in their actions. They visited each other’s rooms for nearly three months before anyone else found out. If Brent had not arisen in the dead of night to check the weather and observed Gareth kissing her goodnight before returning to his room, no one else would have known. Brent felt a grown man and woman did not require chaperons so he said nothing to the others.

The living area held communications equipment with multiple television sets to monitor events of the world via the satellites. Improved communication equipment helped them contact each other anywhere on the planet. They installed heaters in each bedroom to ward off the chill of the underground caves and built a fireplace on the westernmost wall of the Great Room. It made gathering around the large open communal area cheery.

The bedrooms and the doors to the outside were all wooden doors which Stuart meticulously carved their initials on each bedroom door. Gareth finished all the plumbing and wiring work as needed as they settled in. Darien continued to work on the hanger area and the smaller caves further back into the mountain under the Great Room. Carrol shared feeding the indigenous goats with Brent and tended the vegetable gardens in small protected areas around the mountain.

The goats are a nuisance, Brent admitted, but I rather like the innocent expressions on their little faces. He and Stuart carved out a new room at the very peak of the mountain. It was to be King Lycasis’s throne room, one with complete visual access to everything on the island. Camouflaged on all sides, it would afford the king a 360-degree view of the skies around New Thuringa.

A pleasant rhythm of the day developed among the scouts. Brent went out daily to milk the tamed doe goats before breakfast. They also had the small flock of chickens to provide them with eggs. After a hearty breakfast, the six went about their tasks diligently. At noontime they took a lunch break, which often ended with a playful game of tag with the goats. After lunch they worked at their tasks and lent a hand to whoever needed help. In the late afternoons and evening, they swam in the ocean or strolled along the beach. The days merged together in the peaceful pattern of paradise.

The Thuringi sold more recovered treasure to different collectors around the world and stocked their larder with necessities. They even splurged a little on some potent potables. The caves made excellent wine cellars so they all added to the modest supply of bottles Darien and Brent had already gathered. Glendon acquired grapevine cuttings and planted them on the mountainside's northwestern slope. He had a difficult time keeping the goats away and finally resorted to building a fence around the tender vines.

One day Stuart returned from a reconnaissance trip with Michael Sheldon. The sight of their Earthian friend was met with a whooping cheer. Michael felt like a favorite toy passed from Thuringi to Thuringi in a playful game of catch, with Michael as the ball. They gave him a tour around the island. New Thuringa was a mile wide at its widest point around the mountain peak, an upthrust of rock on the south side of the island. The waves carved a natural arch along the tip of the island directly under the peak. A sandy beach stretched along the island from the arch all along the eastern side of the island to around the tip and three-quarters of the way down the western side. The beach became pebbly at the very end of the island, where a high rocky wall led around to the point near the arch.

Inside the arch, Darien and Brent carved an entrance with wide stair steps leading into a massive natural cavern a hundred fifty yards across inside the mountain. Once the territory of bats, the cave was scrubbed clean and the floor leveled in order to provide shelter for their ships. Another stairway led further into the mountain where it emptied into a cave immediately off the stairway. It was fifty feet wide and nearly as long, and they called it the Great Room. On the right side of this room, another staircase led to a natural fissure to the outside. They poured concrete for steps. On the outside, a small ledge was expanded to create a large stone deck edged with flat rocks waist high. The view looked down along the side of the hill with a wonderful vantage point to view the southerly approach to the island.

Michael was treated to a feast of baked fish with wild rice and fruits, accompanied by an especially appealing bottle of wine. As they ate he told them of his experience with the government investigators.

I hope the Air Force doesn't call on me again because now I know where you are.

Tell them anything you want to keep yourself out of harm’s way, Stuart said. If they come looking for us, they would be in for a thrashing. The relief of a secure location put a fire in even the gentle crown prince and his confidence was welcome by all, especially Darien.

That's the spirit! Yes, tell those chaps my fly swatter is ready to receive them!

We must certainly feel more confident, if Darien is going to joke about a matter which once vexed him so, Gareth noted.

Michael said, You know, I bought a pair of horses at an auction and found out I won't be able to keep them where I planned. I wonder if you would like them? Darien jumped at the chance and he and Michael flew off immediately to bring the animals back. The Thuringi soon had a pair of Earthian gakkis for their riding pleasure in addition to their first equine acquisition, Bishop. Yep, we’re regular Cartwrights now, Glendon drawled as he pulled his battered Stetson down over his eyes in a fair imitation of the television characters. Carrol privately thought he looked far more attractive than actors on American television but she kept this opinion to herself. The praise would only serve to embarrass the modest Naradi in front of Brent and Darien, who would tease him without mercy.

Oh! Glendon, I have a letter for you from the Gentrys. Michael retrieved it from his overnight bag.

Glendon eagerly opened the envelope and read the letter aloud to his companions.

Dear Glen,

I hope you all are doing fine wherever you are. Mike said he'd be out to see you so I asked him to wait so I could write you. We're glad you got to go home to see your folks. We hope you'll come back to see us. All the excitement has died down now you all are gone, but the girls from the school ask after you constantly. The ladies at the beauty parlor where Katie Martin works were convinced you and her ran off together but then they see her and Lloyd happy and still together and then they just don't know what to think. That is what the old gossip mongers get.

Darryl came out to the ranch last week and it was about time. He was so pleased at the work you did on the house and the barn, he's going to rent it out. I kind of hope he won't; it just won't be the same without the sight of you tall boys lounging on the porch and Carrol curled up on the swing. You were the best thing to happen to Iron Post and you are all surely missed.

God bless you and take care,

Ed and Margie Gentry

Those dear people, Glendon said with a sigh. They were the heart of kindness.

The Thuringi took photographs of everything around them to document their mission, so Michael took candid shots with his own camera. When Stuart took him back to America, Michael set up a darkroom to develop and print the photos himself and made copies for Stuart to file with his reports. Michael took a picture of the six scouts back to Ed and Margie, a photo in which they looked no different from any Earthian. There was nothing with them to use as a gauge to measure their height and the unidentifiable background of stone told no story. The photo was a comforting sight to the older couple. They are all doing well and are very grateful to have known you. Perhaps they will be able to visit someday, Michael told them.

Well, I don't want them to get into any difficulties, Ed said, and glanced around to make certain no one else was around before he added, I was afraid those government men might have caught up with them but I reckon those space ships are just far beyond anything we've got. Where are they from, anyway?

Michael had discussed matters with Stuart and Darien, and he was able to make an honest response. They are from a place called Thuringa. They are good people who just need a place to rest.

I could tell they were good right off the bat, Ed confided. I reckon I don't need to know anything more in case them government guys come back and start snooping around. Ed liked the idea he and Margie had helped alien visitors. It added an air of mystery and intrigue to life and those things were in short supply in their part of rural Oklahoma.

The scouts heard over the radio about an approaching storm and Brent was ill at ease about the damage. When it appeared the storm would miss New Thuringa he advised them to prepare for the worst anyway. He adamantly insisted Stuart's Arda-powered ability to control wind currents was no match for a storm of that magnitude. Stuart studied the size of the storm and agreed. They had only a small supply of Arda liquid and it must not be squandered simply to idly test a theory.

As the winds picked up and the rain came down in torrents, Brent took the Isador out to sea. He wanted the first-hand experience he seldom had on Old Thuringa, where the thunderstorms at sea were no comparison to these Earthian monsters. He rode out in the high choppy waves to sing surfing songs and revel in the wild natural phenomenon. He was able to investigate the sea in the eye’s calm and collected data that would keep him busy for months, confident in the knowledge he was not alone and his fellow scouts would look for him if he did not return.

Back on New Thuringa the five non-Aquatic Thuringi became more alarmed by the hour. They did not want to fly above the storm in their ships lest they run into hurricane hunters so they brought in their horses and as many goats and chickens as they could gather, deep in the hanger cavern. They sealed off the outer doors and closed and bolted the inner doors at the ends of the stairways. The communications receiver on the top of the mountain was thoroughly secured but the storm gave them nothing but static. The rain came down in a torrent, driven by the hundred-mile-an-hour-plus wind. Safe in their caves they wondered at the fury of the storm and how anyone could survive such a gale without caves such as theirs.

Darien went to the hanger to check on the animals and noted the storm’s passing. They all emerged from the cavern as Brent and the Isador came into the shelter of the natural arch. He sprang from the ship with blazing eyes and a joyful yelp.

That was the most enjoyment I’ve had yet! he exclaimed. "What a world, what a never-ending source