by Mike Shelton
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.
Chapter 14
DESPERATION
It 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. Flowe
rs 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 stoma
ch 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?”
One of the men laughed. “I don't see any great army. Do you, Tam?” He asked the other man.
“No, I don't either. Maybe they are hiding in the trees.” The men both laughed, showing Darius a few of their missing teeth.
“They will come looking for me,” Darius continued.
The first rider, a large bald fellow, stepped into Darius’s view and looked in his eyes. “But they will never find you... at least alive.” He gave a hoarse, haunting laugh.
Darius’s heart dropped, and he swallowed hard. “What do you want?”
“You will find out soon enough. Our leader will take care of that,” said the man named Tam. He had a slight accent that Darius thought was from the Kingdom of Arc, but since he had never been there before, he wasn’t sure. Darius reminded himself that either one of these men could kill him in his condition. He wondered what had happened to his sword.
