The messenger handed him the letters and bowed with appropriate
deference. Darius was slightly annoyed that the King had approached him so soon
after arriving in Belor. But the letter from his mother had him more worried.
He motioned for one of the guards to escort the messenger to get some food with
a warning to not harm the man.
Before opening the letters, Darius walked back to the palace
grounds. Mezar and Leandra walked away together to give him some room. He moved
off into a corner of the gardens and opened and read the one from the King
first. He could tell it was written by his father’s hand.
“Why the scowl?” The Preacher spoke from in front of him.
Darius jumped. He had been so engrossed in the letter that he had
let his guard down and hadn’t felt the Preacher approach. The man was all
smiles and cordiality, yet Darius felt a dirty, evil underpinning as he
approached.
“The King is commanding me to return to Anikari at once,” he said
to the Preacher.
“Well, why don't we all go and meet him? My army will be ready to
march in two days.”
“He says I must come without my army and as quickly as I can.”
Darius tried to understand the tone of the letter. “It is a curious letter. I
can tell it was written by my father’s hand, but it has the King’s seal at the
bottom.” Darius tilted the letter so he Preacher could read it himself. He felt
the Preacher’s warm breath, and his mind went back to what he had seen earlier
that day. The Preacher killing one of his own men in cold blood. He shivered
despite the warm spring morning, and suppressed a desire to run away from the
man.
Darius excused himself and took a few steps away to open his
mother’s letter. She had written him once while he was in training. It was a
very informational letter of day-to-day happenings around Anikari. This letter
was different. It was written in obvious haste. She expressed her love for him
and pleaded with him to follow the King’s instructions. Darius was puzzled. His
mother rarely became involved in the affairs of the kingdom, though any other
woman in her position would have. She had always seemed content to stay at home
and only attended state functions with his father when necessary. He felt a
tugging in his chest he hadn’t felt in a while.
“I must go at once,” Darius stated to the Preacher. Leandra and
Mezar had moved in closer.
“But why?” asked the Preacher. “Why not wait and take the army
with you? We will be ready soon. It will be a perfect surprise. You and I striding
into Anikari together. They will give us what we want then.” The Preacher’s
voice boomed louder, and others in the area turned toward them.
A day before Darius might have gone along with the Preacher. Even
now he felt the man’s powerful pull on him. He grounded his thoughts with what
he had seen of the city and the Preacher earlier that day. This joining
together was not what he wanted. He had to make a decision on which path he
wanted to be on.
Before he could answer, a guard rushed up to the Preacher. He
bowed low and waited for the Preacher to acknowledge him.
“Sire, the prisoner has escaped. The boy from Anikari.”
The Preacher’s face turned scarlet. “How did this happen?”
The guard cowered back. “He must have had help. When we brought
him his afternoon meal, he was no longer in his cell.”
Darius took interest in the conversation. He cringed inside as he
remembered how he had treated Kelln. It was inexcusable, he knew, and he hadn’t
had the courage yet to face him again. The fog on his mind had lifted
partially— enough that he could see it was the Preacher’s influence that had
caused such rage in him. He shook his head as if trying to dismiss how he had
left his friend sprawled on the ground.
“Find whomever helped him escape, and bring them to me. They must
still be in the city.” The Preacher’s mouth tightened and he looked around as
if seeing through the entire city. For all Darius knew, he could.
The guard looked like he wanted to say something, but swallowed
hard and closed his mouth.
The Preacher looked back to the guard. “You have more to say?”
“It is rumored that your daughter was the last one to see him.”
Rage flew from the Preacher’s eyes, and the air filled with power.
In an open display of the magic he held, the Preacher with a loud roar sent a
line of fire from his fingers toward the guard’s chest. “Don’t bring my
daughter into this, you coward. Find him now! I will deal with her.”
Darius stepped back. Even Mezar, eyes wide, took a few paces back
from where he stood, bringing Leandra with him.
The small crowd watched as the guard crumbled to the ground in a
ball of flames. The Preacher turned to Darius with a fervor that kept anyone
else from talking.
“Now, Commander Darius San Williams, when are we going to Anikari
to confront the King?”
Darius had never known such fear before, but he kept his face
still and used a soft but firm voice to calm the Preacher down. “I will go
first to assess the situation. Then I will send for you. It is better to be
prepared.”
The Preacher stepped up only inches from Darius’s face. Darius had
to fight to keep from cowering before so much evil power. He felt a push
against his mind but pushed back as hard as he could. He was rewarded with a
slight grin from the Preacher.
“Good.” The Preacher said. “You still have fight in you. I was
worried you were going soft on me with the letter from your mother.”
“I know what needs to be done.” It was an ambiguous enough
statement, Darius knew. In fact, he still wasn’t entirely sure what he would
do, but he did know how dangerous the man in front of him was.
“Are you afraid of me?” The Preacher stepped back, put his arms
out wide, and let the wind blow his robes around.
Darius could not admit the fear he had or the loathing he was
developing for this man. “I am afraid of what the King might do if I, his
commander, do not answer his call to return.”
“You are wiser than I first thought, Darius. It is good for you to
go ahead and prepare. It will make my grand entry even more significant. But
you must take someone with you.”
“I will take Mezar with me to present to the King. We will leave
at first light tomorrow.”
The Preacher’s anger had subsided from the earlier bout with his
guard and now seemed to be in a more congenial mood. “When should I meet you?”
“Come to Forest View in five days unless I send a message
otherwise. By then I will have assessed the situation fully.”
Darius turned away from the Preacher. Upon doing so, he felt a
strong impression pleading for him to hurry. It was felt in the back of his
mind, similar to what he had felt the day before when a similar command to
return and help had been voiced in his mind.
The Preacher called after Darius. “Did you say something else,
Commander? “
“No.”
“Hmmm.” The Preacher voiced his thoughts. “I felt a fleeting
thought that I didn’t recognize.”
“However,” Darius took a few steps forward, “I have decided to
leave this afternoon instead.”
“Why the sudden change in plans?” The Preacher seemed suspicious.
“If I ride hard all day, changing horses, I should be able to
reach Forest View tomorrow night. Then I will find out what the King wants the
next day. The earlier we know the better.” Darius hoped the Preacher bought the
story. He couldn’t explain the sudden thoughts that had barraged his mind.
Turning back to Mezar, Darius instructed him to go with a guard
and collect his things. He wanted to leave as soon as he could.
Mezar smiled at him.
Darius couldn’t believe Mezar’s disposition. Did nothing faze him?
“Don’t you know that I am taking you to see the King of the Realm? You are a
Gildanian commander who trespassed with an army on Realm soil. Aren’t you
afraid of what could happen to you?”
“I do not think you will let any harm come to me,” Mezar said with
a smile. “I am looking forward to seeing more of the Realm and some of your
peculiar politics. This seems to be a time of change in your kingdom.”
Darius shook his head and grunted.
Crazy Gildanian!
In the corner of his eye he saw Leandra shrinking back toward the
castle. She usually begged Darius to go with him. This time she didn’t. Her
behavior lately had been different. Almost as if she was biding her time for
something. He would deal with her later, right now he had to get away from the
Preacher and find out what was happening in Anikari.
Less than an hour later, upon two of the best Thoroughbred horses
in Belor, Darius and Mezar left for Anikari. Darius was glad to be away from
the Preacher but was apprehensive about seeing the King and his father again.
What did they want? How would they react to him disobeying orders and going to
Belor? How would he react to their need to control him? He ground his teeth in
frustration for the third time that day and vowed to make his own decisions.
DESPERATION
I
t was exhilarating for Darius to be riding again. He loved the way
the wind rushed against him as they flew northward in the cool, crisp, spring
air. The day had opened with sun, but clouds and fog blew in from the Blue Sea
only a few miles to the east. Mezar pulled a scarf up around his neck.
Allowing his horse to rest for a few minutes, Darius slowed down.
He sat with shoulders tensed and focused. He could see Mezar watching him from
the side.
“Mezar, tell me about yourself. How did you get to be a commander
at your age? What is your emperor trying to prove by sending you to invade the
Realm?”
Mezar brought his horse closer and smiled. “It seems that you and
I have much in common. From what I understand you were raised in nobility and
given as much an education as possible. You were chosen out of many young men
to lead this Elite Army for your king. I, too, was raised in nobility and have
a father who wants me to understand what is going on. Not just in Gildan, but
in all our neighboring countries. Politics is in my blood, I guess you could
say, and I have no choice in it.”
“There is always a choice,” voiced Darius. Though he understood
what Mezar meant.
“Ahh. I guess there is. However, there is one difference between
you and me. You are looking for reasons to run from your upbringing and the
opportunity for leadership. I, on the other hand, accept my role in life. Being
in politics and being a leader is not always a manipulated situation; it is an
opportunity to help others. A good leader makes others’ lives better.”
“But what if I don’t want to be a leader?” asked Darius.
Mezar paused a moment while they rode in single file across a
small stream. Once on the other side he resumed speaking. “Darius, you are a
leader. I don’t think that is the question. What you want is to be a leader who
makes his own decisions. But I think you would be a leader whether you were in
this army or not. You can’t run from your destiny. You can choose, however, to
be a good leader or a bad leader. That is your choice.”
Darius frowned. “Are you saying I am a bad leader?”
“Not a bad leader. You captured me, didn’t you? But you rule
through fear and uncertainty rather than respect. Your men cannot follow you
freely if they don’t know where your loyalties lie and what your purpose is.”
“My loyalties lie with me!” Darius grew angry. “That is how I make
my decisions.”
“Then you are a very dangerous leader, Commander; more so with the
power you wield.”
“What do you know of my power, Gildanian?”
“More than you think,” Mezar said with a knowing smile and kicked
his horse forward in front of Darius.
“You’re pushing it, Gildanian.” Darius raised his voice. Mezar
knew more than what he was saying. He acted more like Darius’s superior than
his prisoner at times. Darius snapped the reins on his horse and jumped back
out in front of Mezar. The two of them then raced up the road as fast as their
horses could carry them.
They stayed that night under some large and sheltering pine trees,
with little conversation other than to discuss camp duties. The next day, after
changing horses in a small village, they reached Forest View late in the
evening and settled at an inn on the northern edge of town.
With a deep feeling of familiarity, the surroundings began to look
like Anikari again. The buildings were more angular now, with straight sloping
roofs, rather than the domes and clay construction of Belor. The way everyone
was dressed, the setup of the market section of town, the language of the
people; it was comfortable to him. Flowers bloomed in window sills, and grass
grew in front of some of the larger estates. The scent of spring filled the
air.
Darius sensed a general nervousness in the town. He couldn’t place
the trouble, and it bothered him. He had been gone almost nine months now and,
except for news from Sean San Gant, the son of a minor noble who had been up in
the mountains when he was training, had received hardly any information of the
Realm during that time. He had been so focused on himself that he hadn’t
realized how cut off he'd been from the rest of the kingdom's doings. Darius
realized again that the farther away from the Preacher he went, the lighter he
felt— like a burden had been lifted from him. He was only now beginning to
understand the source of the Preacher’s power, how different it felt from his
own power.
Mezar and Darius sat in the far end of the inn’s common room. They
engaged in light conversation, mainly about the food and the music. He was
beginning to feel more relaxed and tried to enjoy the company. The exotic young
man from their southern neighbor drew a lot of stares from around the room. His
darker complexion, slender build, and slanted eyes seemed to draw people to
him. Most of the serving ladies found at least one excuse to come to their
table that evening.
Darius didn’t advertise his presence but didn’t hide the fact either.
A few other patrons looked at his uniform and tried to place who he was. The
music being played and sung by a trio of musicians made him homesick. One of
the songs reminded him of a barn dance he had attended with Christine. He
wondered what she thought of him now, after being gone so long.
The room began to get more crowded and warm, so Darius and Mezar
went up to their own room. Because they traveled on the King’s summons, they
had been able to secure privacy. Other travelers had been put out of their room
because of it. Darius would rather be alone, but he couldn’t very well put
Mezar in his own room, though something inside of him told him he could trust
the man entirely.
He felt closeness to Mezar that he couldn’t explain. It seemed
ridiculous, and he hadn’t voiced it to others. He was like a long-lost friend
returned, and Darius wondered if Mezar felt in similar fashion. That is why
Mezar’s words the previous day had upset him so much, because it was a voice to
some of his own doubts and inadequacies. Mezar understood him somehow as Kelln
never did. It wasn’t that Darius was pushing Kelln aside. In fact, he felt sick
in the pit of his stomach wondering where his friend had gone. Once he found
out what the King wanted, he would search out Kelln and apologize to him.
The room was comfortable, consisting of a wooden table, some
chairs, a small bookshelf with a few books, a washbasin and a large bed. The
books surprised him, but he remembered his father talking about a new printing
technique that made it possible to produce more books, rather than having them
copied by hand.
The two men reluctantly had to share the same bed. Each took a
side and scooted as far away from the other as possible. Darius sank into a
deep sleep within moments. His dreams were of Anikari and his mother; every
time she looked at him he perceived pain on her face. It disturbed Darius, and
he tried to shake himself away from it. A vision of his father and the King
appeared to him next. They seemed worried and talked in small whispers. When
Darius tried to get closer, they seemed to move even further away. Next, he
stood in the Field of Diamonds. Christine was there, but she couldn't see him.
The field was brown, and Christine was crying. Again, he seemed to hear another
voice urging him forward. Its familiar feeling was stronger now than it was in
Belor.
A door crashing open ripped him from his scattered dreams. Before
he could move, two large men grabbed him, while a third reached toward Mezar.
He watched as Mezar kicked hard, then moved lithely behind the two men and
escaped from their clutches. Darius reached for his power, but before he could
do anything, a cloth of fowl-smelling liquid pushed against his mouth. It made
him dizzy, and he couldn’t reach his power. He grabbed out with his arms
instead and hit one of the attackers while kicking back at the other. One man
turned his sword around and smashed the pommel into Darius’s head. Pain flashed
through his skull, and he struggled to stay conscious, but soon the darkness
engulfed what light there had been in the small room, and blackness filled his
vision.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Mezar, upon seeing Darius struggle against the men putting the
foul-smelling rag to his mouth, understood what it was and knew he had to get
away before they did the same to him. He had a chance to escape, make his way
back to Gildan, and tell his grandfather all that had happened in the Realm.
Instead, he decided to follow the men who had overpowered Darius.
He smiled once again at the excitement this land offered and hoped
he wouldn’t be captured again. That could cause some definite problems. He
imagined his father shaking his head at his oldest son’s sense of adventure.
Mezar’s father was more focused on consolidating power than having an adventure.
He wondered how his grandfather would react. The old man would probably just
laugh.
Going down the stairs and into the common room, only a few
stragglers were still up this late at night. However, as Mezar neared the
bottom of the stairs, he saw a thin figure sneak out a side door. He could have
sworn it looked like Leandra, but why would she be in Forest View? She had
stayed behind in Belor.
Mezar turned to follow, but the commotion upstairs grew louder,
and he had to head out another door to escape notice. Taking a quick look down
the street, he moved off into the shadows to await the men from upstairs.
Lanterns burned in the windows of some of the inns down the
street, where men stayed up all night gambling. The two attackers came down
some back stairs with Darius in tow. Mezar followed discretely, but they rarely
looked back. Mezar stuck to the darkest spots and stayed close behind. Even if
they looked back, they would notice nothing but darkness. If need be, he could
easily take care of the two captors, but he wanted to see where they would take
his new friend.
Mezar heard voices up ahead and shrank back farther in the
shadows. Through the dark night, he saw a silhouette of a man pulling a cart
and horse up, with a girl approaching on the far side. He caught her profile
with a splash of the moon and was certain now it was Leandra. She seemed to be
arguing with the two men.
The two captors loaded Darius on the cart, and the driver tossed
them a bag that Mezar assumed was full of money. Leandra sat up next to the
driver as the cart took off. The two men he had been following turned around
and headed back into town. They passed within a few feet of him but were too
busy talking about the money they had made that night.
“He never knew what happened,” one of the men laughed.
“Bet he'll be surprised when he wakes up and finds out he's in the
middle of the forest,” said the other man. “The other fellow sure high-tailed
out of the room. I guess he wasn’t much of a friend.”
The other man laughed. “Easiest money I've ever made. I would have
done it for half.”
“I wonder who he is?”
said the first man. “Must
be important for that much money.”
The men continued talking as they moved away from Mezar. Mezar sat
in quiet for a moment, then with stealth moved silently back to the inn and
went back upstairs to their room.
Darius had a bag of coins, his sword, and a change of clothes that
Mezar grabbed. He left money for the innkeeper and headed back out into the
night air. He thought again of returning to Gildan, but something he didn’t
understand compelled him in the other direction. There was a destiny around
Darius that he felt was bigger than any of them currently understood. Mezar was
a long way from home, but a few more days might be advantageous to his mission—a
secret mission that he was beginning to see was becoming far more exciting and
enlightening than his grandfather would have guessed.
The air was cool and dawn still hours away when Mezar entered back
in to the forest. With swiftness and stealth he ran through the trees,
following signs of the wagon in the soft dirt.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Hours later Darius awoke to find himself being pulled in an old
cart. His head spun with pain, and his stomach churned. He tried to remember
what had happened, but his mind stayed in a fog. He tried to reach for his
power again but found he still couldn’t reach it. He began to panic. He closed
his eyes and tried to stop the spinning. He suffered the bouncing of the cart
and soon fell back asleep.
Darius did not know how long he slept, but the glimmer of morning
in the air and the leaves on the trees began to cast long faint westward
leaning shadows. By the number and size of trees he saw, Darius figured he was
somewhere in the Black Forest. Not deep into it, as most people were still
superstitious about it. It gave Darius comfort. The old forest always had. His
head had cleared a little, and he began to try to piece together what had
happened and why. He had been kidnapped and was being taken somewhere. He didn’t
think it was the Preacher’s men. He wondered if Mezar had been taken also, or
if he had escaped during the commotion.
As they reached a small clearing, two men on horseback emerged
from the trees opposite them and signaled the driver to stop.
“Who are you, and why have you taken me?” Darius tried to sit up
to see his captors but was tied to the floor of the cart. “Do you know I have
an army at my command?”