The Path of Decisions

by Mike Shelton

  The Path Of Decisions

  The Cremelino Prophecy Book II

  By Mike Shelton

  The Path Of Decisions

  Copyright © 2016 by Michael Shelton

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 0-9971900-4-3

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9971900-4-5

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016905670

  Greenville, North Carolina

  Cover Illustration by Brooke Gillette

  http://brookegillette.weebly.com

  Map by Robert Altbauer

  www.fantasy-map.net

  Author Website

  www.MichaelSheltonBooks.com

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost I thank my wife Melissa for all her patience as I have worked through multiple versions of manuscripts in this trilogy over many years. Her support of my dreams has always meant so much to me. I thank my children Danielle, Emily, and Ryan, my parents and my siblings for their continued interest, support, and encouragement of my writing.

  This book would not have been accomplished without the work and help of Heather Moore and others at Precision Editing Group, as well as my beta readers. I really appreciate all the feedback and support they have given me.

  Bringing my book to life visually was Brooke Gillette. She took a few notes and directions from me and expanded it into a colorful, awesome, and detailed cover. Her work is really amazing. Robert Altbauer also did an incredible job on the map.

  The Path of Decisions is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of my imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. I alone take full responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. –Mike

  Books by Mike Shelton

  The Cremelino Prophecy:

  The Path of Destiny

  The Path of Decisions

  The Path of Peace (summer 2016)

  Chapter 1

  THE BLACK FOREST

  Commander Darius San Williams, first commander in the King’s Elite Army, waited a week for word from the King on what to do with Mezar and his group of prisoners from Gildan.

  Darius was proud of what the army had accomplished under his leadership on his first assignment. He had, through somewhat unconventional means, captured a large battalion of Gildanian soldiers who had invaded the southern end of the Realm through the city of Denir. This he had done with only twenty-five men, a small portion of the entire Elite Army.

  The Gildanians, under the command of a man known only as Mezar, had taken 500 men over the border and seemed poised to attack further. Darius and his men, working throughout the night setting traps for the enemy, had secured a quick and decisive victory. The use of his growing magical powers had aided in their success, but Darius wasn’t secure enough in his position to admit that openly yet.

  A rider had been dispatched immediately after the capture of the Gildanian soldiers to ride to Anikari, the capital of the Realm, and inform King Edward DarSan Montere. Darius passed his time talking to all of the young ladies of Denir and relishing in his recent accomplishments.

  Recently turned nineteen years old, Darius was beginning to enjoy the attention of others, rather than having to live under the shadow of his father Richard, the Senior Councilor to the King.

  He watched Leandra march up to him now through the haze of lazy camp smoke in the cold, gray air. Fire seemed to blaze from her brown eyes, and her mouth turned down in a teeth-gritted scowl. Her short brown hair flew around her normally soft face. Darius knew that look and would have to do his best to smooth it over. It wouldn’t do for him to be seen in front of his men arguing with her.

  Darius stepped away from the other girls who had circled him that afternoon and reached out his hand to her. “Leandra.”

  “What are you doing, Darius?” She motioned her arms around at the group of young ladies he had just stepped away from. “Aren’t you the commander here?”

  “They just wanted to congratulate me for saving them.” Darius puffed out his chest. “It’s only natural.”

  Leandra continued to glare at Darius. He thought back to when they had met, months before up in the Superstition Mountains. She was one of the camp cooks and seamstresses for King Edward’s new Elite Army. Darius had found himself in those mountains newly recruited by the King, whisked away from his home with little warning. Leandra had befriended him and had been a good distraction for the anger and loneliness he felt at being away from Anikari and his friends. She had snuck away with his group when they had left to confront the Gildanian battalion. At first Darius had been angry at her stowing away, afraid she would distract him. But lately he was happy she had come along.

  Darius put his arm around her and pulled her closer. His body was firm and well-toned now, after training for over six months. “A commander must be seen to be in charge, and the people have to feel safe, Leandra. I am acting the part.”

  “So you don’t care for those girls giggling around you?”

  “No. I only care for you, Leandra.” He smoothed things over. And Christine. He cringed at the unbidden thought. He had cared deeply for Christine before leaving Anikari, even loved her. She was from the farmlands surrounding the capital city of the Realm. Six months ago he’d left that city behind him. The pain of not being able to tell her goodbye in person, due to the abruptness of his leaving, had receded through the months, mostly because he tucked it away deep inside.

  He couldn’t bear the pain, so he ignored it. He tried to talk himself into the fact that Christine had probably moved on without him, and with his growing powers and role in the Elite Army, maybe she was better without him. He may not return to the capital city for a long time, and when he did, she may not like who he had become.

  He had always wanted to be a commander of an army. His goal in life was to fight for the glory of the Realm, to keep her borders safe, and to make sure her people were at peace. It was only in the last year or so that he realized there was as much danger to that peace and glory from within the Realm as outside her borders.

  He walked with Leandra back toward his men. A few of them tried to get answers from him regarding their next move. He shrugged them off and told them he would let them know when he was ready to move on and what would happen next. He wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

  The army had been stationed here a few weeks already, but he was not anxious to see the King or his father. They would only lord over him, young as he was compared to them. But with his new command and growing powers, he was ready to make some of his own decisions now.

  Darius leaned down and gave Leandra a small kiss on the cheek. His dark hair had grown shaggier since being in the mountains. He was clean shaven, unlike many of the other nobles his age, who were wearing goatees these days. He looked at Leandra with his gray eyes and wondered what she really meant to him.

  “I will see you later.” He broke contact with her hand.

  “When?” she asked, almost afraid to let him out of her sight.

  He smiled at her apparent jealously and appeased her. “We will have dinner together.”

  Darius found himself standing on a rise just outside the city gates hours later. His army was camped on some land off of the main road from Anikari.

  The city of Denir, where he now stood, was the smallest of the major cities in the Realm but was the main point of entry for goods from the Gildanian Empire, the southern territories, and other countries farther south, even as far as the Elvyn Kingdom. Belor, Mar, and even Sur, the other major cities in the Realm, were bigger. However, the population of Denir more than doubled in the upcoming spring and summer months, as traders from all of the neighboring kingdoms set
up trade shops in the area. Hence, the people of Denir were a mixed lot of kingdoms and races and many times acted like an autonomous nation.

  The local governor, along with a contingent of tax collectors and merchant guild leaders, kept the city a safe and prosperous place. The trade status had brought wealth to the region, and many of the local merchants had built large palatial estates of their own throughout the city and on the surrounding foothills.

  Darius was looking down the hill at one of the large estates, almost the size of a small palace and admiring the white stone structure, when the King’s messenger finally returned from Anikari. Darius heard the approaching rider before the others did and walked back down the hill and into his camp to meet him. The young man jumped off of his swift brown quarter horse and saluted Darius.

  Darius saluted back, “What’s the news from the King?”

  The messenger spoke even as he handed Darius a parchment. “King Edward wants you to bring most of your army and any of Gildan’s commanders to Anikari, drop off the Gildanians, and then march to Belor. Let the rest of the Gildanian battalion here be escorted back to Salish on their side of the border. The King will send a group from the Anikari garrison to settle any continued disputes with the Gildanians.”

  It had long been the practice in the Realm for the King’s messengers to memorize any instructions in addition to giving the written note. Darius looked at the message in his hands. The note seemed vague about the trouble in Belor, but Darius knew from meetings and discussions with his father the previous year of the rising problem there.

  A man who only went by the name of the Preacher had taken control of Belor and wanted to separate that region from the rest of the Realm. It was rumored that the man had the powers of a wizard, which as of late presented a special interest to Darius. Although he had vehemently denied to Kelln, his best friend back in Anikari, as well as to Mezar, the captured Gildanian captain, that he was a wizard, his growing powers made him wonder what he was becoming. His control was getting better, but he lacked vital knowledge of what his powers could do. It seemed they only manifested themselves in the moment he needed to do something with them.

  As Darius returned to his tent, he stole a long glance at the tent next to his where his men held Mezar. The man wasn't such a bad sort and seemed to be only a few years older than Darius himself— though the age of Gildanians, with their dark black hair and smooth brown skin, was hard to tell. He could hear the sounds of the men in the camp. Apparently they had seen him talking to the messenger, and conjecture stirred among the tents. The men had begun to get restless in the last few weeks. This new victory had aroused their ambitions for more excitement. Darius called his junior commanders to a conference in his tent and gave the orders for mustering.

  An hour later, five men gathered together; each directed about forty men. They stood in a semi-circle in in front of Darius’s tent. The late winter air was warming up, but a few still stood with their hands under their arms for warmth. At least the snow was gone from the ground this far south.

  “Some of us will be leaving again soon.” Darius stood up on a wooden crate so all could see and hear him and used his power to amplify his voice. “I will need two units to stay and escort the Gildanian soldiers back to their side of the border. Two other units will return to Anikari with the Gildanian lieutenants in tow and wait for my further orders. I, with the remaining unit and the Gildanian captain Mezar, will go to Belor first and deal with the trouble there in person.”

  A few confused whispers floated through the crowd of soldiers.

  Mezar, who stood with two guards at a short distance from Darius, lifted his head in Darius’ directions. Only the tilt of his brown eyes hinted at surprise.

  “I thought we were all supposed to return to Anikari now,” said one of the unit commanders, who had apparently pried information from the King’s messenger for information.

  “The King needs a group of soldiers in Belor as soon as possible,” announced Darius to the group. “So I am going there first.”

  “But the King said to go to Anikari and then Belor,” reiterated one of his other commanding officers, his eyes and voice steady as he addressed Darius.

  “The King is not in charge of this army. I am.” Darius let some anger show. “Commanders out in the field need to make decisions many times depending on the circumstances. I will send a missive back with the messenger with my reasoning on the issue at hand. We have been trained for events like this. If there is a problem in Belor, why go to Anikari first? I am sure the trouble in Belor is nothing a small number of us can’t deal with. We will then return to Anikari and meet up with the rest of the army.”

  Neither protestor said anything more.

  “Do you not want to fight for the King and protect his honor in Belor?” Darius knew they couldn't answer in the negative. “We will surprise those there who are causing the Realm trouble, capture their leader, then return to Anikari in victory and glory. Two battles will have been won. The King and our people will shower you with praises.”

  A few of the men cheered at first, others then joined in. Darius smiled. These men were trained to follow the chain of command. He still had not finalized his plans for when he eventually arrived back in Anikari, the capital city of the Realm. Nobility like the King thought they knew best, without consulting the facts or those in the trenches. Their desire to control him grated on his nerves, and this maneuver would make a statement. But he knew that something had to be done with the nobility to change their attitudes of others and restore everlasting peace and glory to the Realm.

  “But how will we go to Belor if not through Anikari?” asked a third commander. “That is where the road leads.”

  “Through the southern part of the Black Forest,” answered Darius,” and we leave in three days, so go and start getting ready!”

  The men chattered and whispered throughout the evening, arguing for and against what Darius had decided. No one much liked the forest, named as it was because of the rumors surrounding it. Yet three days later the men Darius had chosen to accompany him stood ready to leave. There were forty men; a full command unit. They would travel lightly and live off the land.

  The spirit of adventure seemed to take control as Darius marched them out of the city. The new uniforms that Darius had made for them in Denir looked sharp and ready for battle. His own silver armor and blue uniform stood out in front of his men.

  Darius looked forward to crossing through the forest and seeing the Everlasting Meadows on the far side. He calculated they could be in Belor within a month.

  Chapter 2

  DANGER

  Christine Anderssn sat on her Cremelino horse, Lightning, at the edge of a meadow she and Darius had named the Field of Diamonds. With a long sigh, she gazed across the Lake of Reflection toward the Superstition Mountains and wondered for the thousandth time in the last seven months if she would ever see Darius again. Her long blonde hair, untied for now, blew around her shoulders in the breeze. Her green eyes, once soft, now hardened, stared off into the distance, as if she was willing herself to find Darius.

  Her young life, just shy of eighteen years, had been in turmoil since Darius had left the city. A petition to the King regarding the condition of the farmers had been denied, and recently her father had passed away due to smoke and wounds sustained in a fire that had burned their barns and fields. The fire was set most assuredly by someone from the city who didn’t care for the outsiders, as the farmers were commonly referred to.

  The term “outsiders”, and such negative treatment, went back to a time many generations before when a group of wizards from Anikari revolted against the King and the nobles’ rule. In the end, the nobles loyal to the throne had destroyed many of the most powerful wizards and had banished the remaining lesser wizards from Anikari to live in the fields. Since then, anyone living in the farm lands outside the walls of Anikari was deemed an outsider and a threat to the King’s laws and rules by most of the noble bloodline
s.

  Darius had been one of the few nobles who accepted Christine and her family.

  A silent tear now dripped down Christine’s face as she tried to find something to hold on to in her tumultuous life.

  Stroking the brilliant white mane of her horse, she felt thoughts of comfort in return. The special Cremelino had been a gift from Darius. It was a breed of large horse usually only allowing one rider. The horse and rider developed a special bond with each other.

  Christine had become so used to the Cremelino’s voice in her mind by now. More than just closeness, she found out she could communicate with the horse through their thoughts. She didn’t know if it was normal or not, but surmised that other nobles with Cremelinos were not able to communicate like she did. Maybe it was a remnant of the lesser wizards’ blood that was rumored to flow through some of those who lived in the farmlands still.

  Thinking of Darius left her heart feeling empty once again. She still hoped he thought of her with fondness and wished he would return soon.

  Be at peace Christine, he will return.

  Through the tears, Christine smiled at Lightning’s attempt at comfort. The horse was so named due to her speed.

  “How can you be so sure?” she answered back.

  The Prophecy. Darius has much to do with the prophecy.

  Forgotten lines of ancient magic

  and the power of the throne.

  One will make them both his own

  if his heart sees the true power.

  He will bring light to fight darkness

  and love to fight hate

  if he reaches into the power of his heart. . .

  “But how can prophecy help our plight? There is no excuse for the treatment we receive. My father is dead!” Christine held the tears in and replaced them with anger. If she couldn’t feel joy, then anger would suffice as an emotion to hold on to. “Can prophecy bring him back?”