The Path of Decisions

by Mike Shelton

  He felt someone step down from the wagon, and low voices followed. A female squealed and Darius wondered who she was.

  A voice soon came from behind Darius, telling the two horsemen to blindfold Darius and bring him. Darius tried to resist, but it was useless. His hands and feet were tied. His captors threw him over the horse on his stomach. He heard some other voices up ahead growing louder as they moved. A few minutes later the men pulled him off his horse, untied his feet, and told him to keep walking. One of the men directed him with a large, meaty hand on his shoulder.

  He had never realized how much the power had been a part of his life. He guessed now it had always been there. His skill with the sword and bow, his knack for direction and knowing where things were, had all been part of his growing power. Now he sensed the power almost hiding at the edge of his mind, but somehow it stayed blocked. He felt blind to his usual heightened senses; they felt dulled. To him it was like looking through a dirty window or trying to think after too much ale.

  The ground underneath his feet changed. It was stone now, and the air was cooler. He had been taken underground into some sort of cave. For some reason he thought about his mother and wondered what she would do if he didn’t return. The dream played in his mind again. He had never wanted to hurt her. She had always loved him.

  He tried to draw in the power again. There appeared to be a small but subtle shift in his mind—a crack in the barrier that held it at bay.

  Somewhere a door scraped open, and the men shoved Darius to the ground. He heard the thudded sound of the door close behind him among a few laughs. Then silence settled in.

  Darius, still on the ground, tried to work his feet up to get the cloth off his eyes. The room was dark and still. Finally he was able to push the blindfold up over his eyes. He could barely see his surroundings, with only a small amount of light entering from the bottom of the crudely made door. The room seemed to be four walls, but two of the walls rounded together. It was carved from rock. The ceiling hung close to him, barely allowing him to stand without crouching. Off in one corner sat a sunken cot. Besides that, it was empty and lonely. He put his mind to use gathering information for his escape and working to unravel the barrier that had been constructed in his mind.

  He wondered what would happen when he did not return to Anikari or back to Belor. If he did not escape quickly, the Preacher would take their men and march on Anikari. Darius grimaced at the thought. It was what he had thought to do himself, but after seeing the type of man the Preacher really was he knew it wasn’t the right answer.

  Darius still didn’t know who had captured him. Was it because he was the leader of the King’s Elite Army or had looked to side with the Preacher or because he was the son of a king’s councilor? He wondered if maybe Realm soldiers had captured him. Maybe it was a trick from the King all along, to get him alone. None of it made sense. Most of all, he couldn’t figure out how someone had known where he and Mezar were staying ahead of time. Maybe he should have changed out of his armor and gone in with more stealth.

  Darius moved from the floor to sit on the cot. His hands, still tied, were swollen and numb. He tried to work the ropes off but soon gave up and lay on his side on the worn cot. Somehow he fell asleep.

  Voices outside of Darius’s door woke him up. He sat up and tried to listen. He heard sounds on his door as chains and bolts were undone. At last, he would see the leader of his captors and find out what was going on. He sat up to ready himself and tried to stretch as well as he could. His mind had cleared a little, and he was more alert and less groggy than before.

  The heavy wooden door swung open, sending in a bright torch light that enveloped the darkened room. Darius tried to see who appeared in the silhouette. Something in his stance seemed familiar.

  “Does the light bother your eyes?” whispered the approaching man.

  “Who are you?” Darius asked.

  “You don't know, Darius? I have been planning this for a long time. I just didn’t realize that when the opportunity came it would be so easy and enjoyable.”

  Darius recognized him now and gasped, “Sean....” The young man that had taunted him growing up, teased him for having Christine as a friend from the farmland, and whom he had beaten in his last archery tournament. The last thought gave him small satisfaction now. He had thought when Sean had been in the training camp in the mountains that they had moved past all their juvenile pettiness.

  “Surprised to see me, I see.” Sean lowered the torch and set it in a hole in the wall. The flickers sent shadows dancing across the room. His hair was still cropped close to his head, but he now sported a goatee that made him look older in the strange light. His pants were pressed, and his lace-bordered shirt hung perfectly on him as if he was ready for a royal gala.

  Darius fumed. “What do you think you are doing?”

  “I don’t think, Darius, I know. I have kidnapped you. And quite easily, I might add. Of course, I did have some help.”

  “Help... Who?”

  Sean turned toward the door and motioned. “Come on in, my dear.”

  In walked a young woman with her head bent. Darius’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Darius, you know Leandra.” Sean laughed.

  Darius opened his mouth but couldn't think of what to say. Anger swelled within and almost overwhelmed him as Leandra approached. Her hair hung down over her face

  With a quick step, Sean moved over to her, grabbed her chin in his large hands and forced her face up. Darius saw the tears in her soft brown eyes. She wouldn't look directly at him.

  He couldn’t believe she had been the one. She must have followed him. “How long has this been planned, Leandra?” Darius clenched his fists. “Was our friendship only an act?”

  “It has been planned since the beginning, Darius. I planned it,” said Sean, puffing out his chest, “and Leandra was kind enough to agree, right Leandra?”

  Leandra stood still, not saying anything. Her muscles tensed and soft tears ran down from bloodshot eyes. Darius thought he saw the beginnings of a bruise on her right check.

  “Right, Leandra?” Sean repeated as he forced Leandra's face up again. He moved over to kiss her. Leandra turned away, and he grabbed her chin again.

  Instinct drove Darius forward. Sure he was mad at Leandra, but Sean had no right to do what he was doing to her. Darius might not have loved Leandra, but he had developed a caring friendship toward her. He jumped and brought one leg up, kicking Sean in the stomach. Sean fell to the ground with a roar that brought five guards racing into the room. Leandra stumbled back a few steps.

  “I’m all right.” Sean said to the guards as he returned to his feet. “It will be his last heroic effort.”

  Darius stood with hands still tied behind him, glaring at Sean. Once again he had lost control of his temper. It may have cost him a chance to escape. He looked at Leandra and experienced an odd compassion for her. A feeling he hadn’t felt in a while. As he did, another crack gave way in the barrier of his power.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” Sean taunted him. “Can’t draw forth any of your powers now? I wonder why that is?”

  “What powers are you talking about?” Darius’s mind reeled at the realization that someone knew about his powers. He was sure Sean was just guessing. “What did you do to me?” He realized that the men that had captured him and put some kind of poison to his lips that stopped his powers from emerging.

  Sean shrugged his shoulders, looking back at Leandra. “Just a little something to keep your powers at bay. Anyways, you never treated Leandra right. She was a prize to you, Darius. You don’t deserve any prizes.”

  Darius felt heat on his cheeks as he realized the truth of Sean’s words. It grated him to hear the truth from his captor’s lips. He hadn’t treated Leandra well and had taken her friendship and companionship for granted. But that still gave Sean no right to capture him.

  Sean walked back up to Darius. “You took the archery contest away from me. You took awa
y my right to be in the King’s army. I should have been a noble's son. I should have had the power you have. You were everything I wanted to be and have everything I want.” Sean seethed, his voice getting louder as he spoke. “Well, not anymore, Darius. I will steal it all back from you. I have Leandra now, and for your ransom your father will give me nobility and the rule of a city, or he will never see you again.”

  “Sean, you are not thinking straight.” Darius tried to negotiate. “You can’t get away with this.”

  Sean grabbed Leandra by the arm and pushed her in front of him through the door. “If not, then I will die trying. I am tired of not having what I deserve.”

  As they walked through the door, Darius heard Leandra whisper, “Darius, it wasn't all an act.” Then the door closed.

  Darius paced the floor with anger and frustration. His thoughts moved back to Cray, his trainer in the Superstition Mountains. Cray had been tough on Darius but had trained him well. Darius remembered when Cray had pushed him hard both physically and mentally to see how he would react. It was a test that had made Darius so angry. Cray had answered back that Darius would have to be careful of enemies who appeared as friends and seemed to have warned him all along about Leandra. Why hadn't he listened? Because she was beautiful. Sean was right; Darius had treated her as a prize.

  Darius fell to the floor in shame and anger. He delved deep into his own mind, trying to find redemption and help. Sean would not expect Darius to regain his power. In fact, Darius was sure Sean could only guess at how much power Darius had. He let his anger build. That was what drove his power stronger. But the more he pushed, the further away it seemed to be.

  After an hour he tried to reach for the power again and again with his anger, hoping for another small crack. Instead he found nothing. Nothing but anger and fear and hurt. His powers were far, far away.

  Darius looked around the room once again. Sean had left the torch on the wall. The room looked smaller in the light.

  Reality sunk in. He had no power, no friends, and certainly no destiny here. His wrists burned as his ropes continued to rub his skin raw. He was a prisoner, alone in a dark cave somewhere in the Black Forest. He wasn’t even sure his father would pay a ransom for him. He thought of Kelln and Mezar. He had treated them all poorly. He had alienated everyone who could help him. He had made the mistake of not realizing what power was doing to him.

  His mind kept hitting a block no matter how angry he became. Anger had always been the best way to bring his power forth. What did they give him that was blocking it? It frustrated him until he screamed a long, aching wail of desperation.

  In a nearby room, he heard Sean laughing.

  From a place not too far away, Darius once again felt someone calling him, but with his powers blocked he could do nothing more than lie in anger, frustration, and desperation.

  Chapter 15

  SECRETS

  Richard San Williams, Senior Councilor to King Edward, sank into a high-backed upholstered chair and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to make the massive headache go away. King Edward DarSan Montere sat across from him in an identical chair. It was late in the afternoon, and the ailing king had finally been able to drag himself out of bed. His continuing weakened state concerned Richard more than he could outwardly admit. They had been discussing Darius again and were expecting him to arrive the next day.

  Minutes passed in silence, when sounds of struggles and loud voices sounded from the hallway outside of the King’s private rooms where they sat. Someone knocked, and Richard looked at the King for direction. He motioned his head towards the door and Richard took a deep breath and stood up.

  He opened the door to find a guard trying to hold back a young and dirty man and woman. They pushed into the room. One spoke and Richard recognized him as one of Darius’s old friends, Kelln, the son of the swordmaker. The same swordmaker who was rumored to be working with the Preacher in Belor.

  “What are you—” Richard began, but Edward interrupted him, demanding to know what was happening. Both Kelln and the young woman started talking at once.

  “Stop. Stop. Let’s settle down and talk about this slowly.” Richard motioned for the guard to leave and close the door. The three moved back over to where the King sat. Richard stayed standing next to the two visitors. He knew Kelln well, and past moments when Kelln and Darius had to be reprimanded for some trouble flashed through his mind. “Kelln, you mentioned Darius’s name. What is this all about?”

  Kelln explained to both the King and Richard how Darius had been meeting with the Preacher and seemed to have been swayed by his preaching and scheming. Kelln was concerned for Darius and didn’t know what else to do. The woman, whom Kelln introduced as Alessandra, daughter of the Preacher and a defector from Belor, filled in other information every now and again of the few days that Darius had spent in Belor. After asking a few questions, the King and Richard thought in silence.

  “What does he think he is doing siding with the Belorians in this conflict?” Richard grabbed a book off a table and threw it against the wall. “He is the commander of the King’s Elite Army. He can't do this!”

  The King gave Richard a warning look. “We will talk to him tomorrow and get his side of the story.”

  “Darius is coming here?” asked Kelln. “Are you sure?”

  “He may be bringing my father and his army,” added Alessandra.

  “We haven't seen any army. We would know about that. I sent a letter to him requesting his presence.” The King coughed hard, and Richard poured him some wine.

  “That letter had to arrive after we left,” Kelln said softly. “The last time I saw him he wasn’t very understanding.”

  Richard’s eyes flared wide. His mouth was tight with anger. “Doesn't he understand who he is? The fool.” He walked to the window and looked out across the great city of Anikari. Could the day get any worse?

  Richard turned toward the King. “He is a reckless boy who isn’t thinking straight. How can he be a ki—”

  “Richard!” King Edward bellowed, almost lifting himself out of the chair, then fell back down into it exhausted from the outburst. “That is enough.”

  Turning to Kelln and Alessandra, Richard tried to resume some form of outward calm.

  The King, with a serious look and in as loud of voice as Richard had heard him use lately, said, “Nothing you have heard here today may be talked about to anyone. If you do, it could cost you your lives. Is this clear?”

  Both Kelln and Alessandra nodded their heads in nervous agreement.

  “Show them out,” the King said to Richard then followed with a whisper for the councilor’s ears only, “but make sure they are watched. I am not sure whom to trust anymore.”

  They reached the door, and Alessandra turned back. “I forgot one thing you should know. His power is growing. If he doesn’t learn to control it soon, it will consume and destroy him and maybe others along the way.”

  “His power?” asked King Edward. “You mean as my commander? It happens to new commanders. The victories go to their heads at first.”

  Alessandra looked back and forth between Richard and the King. “You mean you don’t know?”

  “Know what, young lady?” Richard’s mouth was tight.

  “Darius is a wizard!”

  Richard felt lightheaded, his heart tightened, and he began to fall. Kelln rushed to his side and lowered him to a small red couch by the door.

  The King lifted up out of his chair. “Get him some help now,” he commanded, then collapsed back down.

  Alessandra opened the door, leaned out into the hallway, and shouted for the guard to get a doctor. One arrived and came to the couch.

  “God help us all,” Richard whispered, his face ashen. He felt himself blacking out. He was on the edge. A razor’s edge. His heart beat faster, and his chest constricted. A circle of darkness began to close around his eyesight. How could his son be a wizard? There weren’t wizards in Anikari anymore.

  Ric
hard tried to stay alert for the young doctor, but his heart was racing so fast, and tears filled his eyes. Kelln grabbed some wine from the table, and Richard watched the doctor mix some kaya kava and valerian root into it before pressing it to his lips. The effect came quickly. It began to relax him, and he felt his eyes grow tired. In moments, all went black.

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  Kelln and Alessandra were escorted out of the castle and onto the empty streets of Anikari. It seemed surreal, Kelln thought, to be back home again after so long. It had been almost a year, and even though everything looked similar, a new tension filled the air. He took Alessandra by his old home. Two guards shadowed them wherever they went.

  Grass and weeds grew up around the home and forge where his father used to make swords and other tools. There was a broken window at the back of the house, and it appeared some vagrants had used the place at some point but had not left it in bad shape. Probably someone down on their luck and with no shelter for the winter.

  A nostalgic feeling overcame Kelln as he wandered through the few rooms of his family’s home. Thoughts of his life before Belor flashed through in happy memories—working with his father making swords, chasing his sisters, the aroma of fresh-baked bread, and sneaking out at night to visit Darius in some late-night adventure. Breathing in deeply, he let his body and soul relax.

  Kelln turned to find Alessandra watching him with a smile on her lips.

  “Looks like it was a nice home.”

  “It was.” Kelln sighed again. “It was. But life has changed a lot since then.”

  “You family is well in Belor, Kelln. I checked on them for you.”

  “Thank you again,” Kelln whispered. He hoped the Preacher wouldn’t retaliate against his family for his escaping Belor.

  “Let’s go to an inn. I am dirty and famished.” Kelln headed back toward the door. “There is no food or warm water here. It hardly feels like my home anymore.”