The Path of Decisions

by Mike Shelton

  “Coming to hear the big announcement, same as you, I suppose.” Cray nodded to Roland, and Roland walked a discreet distance away from the two men, although he stayed in the suite of rooms.

  Darius thought it unexpcted that the guard had followed Cray’s unspoken directive. He didn’t know that the old time general still had any pull in the castle.

  “But why?” Darius asked.

  “I am the King’s uncle. I have uh… you might say… an interest in the outcome today.” Cray’s eyes kept flicking around the room nervously.

  “I didn’t know King Charles had brothers.” Maybe this was a way to get out of taking the crown.

  “No. I’m not related to Charles,” Cray almost spat. “To his wife. I am his wife’s younger brother.”

  “Does King Edward know you are here?” asked Darius.

  “We don’t get along well.” He glanced around behind him.

  “Why?” asked Darius instinctively.

  “Because he should have never been king!” shouted Cray without thinking. The echoes of his voice bounced off of the high stone ceilings. Roland glanced over but then continued to be busy doing something else.

  Darius stood still, not knowing for sure what to say. This was not like his trainer. He looked tired, nervous, and strained. Darius guessed everyone was worried about the succession of the King, and everyone had their own ideas and candidates.

  “There was another son you know. Charles’s first born, Alric,” Cray continued, lowering his voice to a more controlled level.

  “So I have been told.”

  Cray looked at Darius but Darius said nothing. He could not betray his true identity yet, though he was sure Cray surmised the connection.

  Cray continued. “Then you were taught that Charles sent him away to war, eventually getting him killed. He was the rightful heir. He was kind and strong and would have made a great king.” His voice lowered almost to a whisper for the last sentence. “He was my friend.”

  Darius wanted to say something. He could tell that his trainer was pained still at the thought of losing his friend so many years before. But he stayed silent until Cray understood that he would receive no new information from him. “You were his friend,” was all Darius could say.

  “You must excuse me, I need to go.” Cray turned around and bumped into Richard, who had just entered the room.

  “Cray! I haven’t seen you in years. Seems retirement has been treating you well.”

  Cray grunted, “I’m busier in retirement than I was leading the army.”

  “Have you two met?” asked Darius.

  “Cray was my sword teacher years ago.” Richard smiled.

  “Darius, remember when you knocked me off the wall and I said there had only been one other time?” Cray asked.

  “You mean...” Darius stared at his father.

  Richard smiled. “I used to be quite a swordsman. That is, until I got into this councilor position and spent much too much time in meetings and formal banquets.” He patted his stomach.

  Cray slapped Richard on the back as he once again tried to exit. “You’d better watch your son, Richard, he may be better than you.”

  As he reached the doorway, Cray stopped and turned as if to say something.

  “Cray?” prompted Richard.

  Cray hesitated a minute, then turned around and left as quickly as he had entered.

  Richard dismissed Roland, and side by side, father and son left the castle. Their strides were similar now. Darius glanced out of the corner of his eye at his father and wondered if he had been too harsh on him the last few years.

  “Did you know Cray is King Edwards’s uncle, on his mother’s side?” Darius asked.

  Richard nodded. “He usually tries to hide from it.”

  “He became angry talking about Alric. I don’t think he realizes he was your father.”

  “That is unlike Cray. Usually he has complete control over his feelings. Everyone is on edge today it seems.”

  A coach pulled up to take them to the meeting in the coliseum. The footman opened the door, and they entered. It was just the two of them. The curtains were open, allowing air to breathe through the carriage.

  “Will they accept me?” Darius whispered.

  “They will have to.” Richard’s voice was gruff. “There will be civil war otherwise.”

  “But won't some of them think we are making the relationship up? I’m so young. I am not even twenty yet.”

  “Remember, you aren’t king yet.”

  Darius nodded.

  His father continued. “Others in our past, even Charles, have been young kings. Charles was close to your age when his mother, the Queen, died and he became king after her. Anikari has always protected and defended her leader. The farmers... and the other cities, especially Belor and Mar... who knows?” Richard shrugged to let Darius know he wasn't so sure about them. “Though I hear you have some inside influence with the farmers.” Richard smiled.

  Darius’s cheeks reddened, but he didn’t say a word. It wasn’t only what his father said, it was the way he had said the words. With a smile. How I have longed for that smile!

  In front of the carriage they heard shouting and commotion. The guards leading out in front of Darius and Richard halted their horses. Some townsman had fallen off his horse in the road and yelled in pain. The guards went to go look. As they did so, someone rushed to Darius’s side of the carriage, leaned in, and whispered, “Red and purple,” then disappeared.

  Darius tried to see who brought him the information, but they left faster than they had come. All he knew was that it was a young man. The man who had fallen off of his horse seemed to be suddenly feeling better.

  “What was that?” Richard asked.

  “Just some information,” Darius smiled.

  “About what?” Richard was annoyed.

  “Doesn't a future king need to be informed?” Darius was having fun. His father was not amused.

  They continued their ride into the coliseum itself. Darius began to feel overwhelmed by the size of the gathered crowd. He had been to the coliseum many times before but never for the naming of an heir to the throne. Red and purple! That's what the messenger had said. The colors of Belor and Anikari.

  Darius looked around, trying to see if there was any sign of the Preacher, but among so large a crowd it was impossible. Colors swirled everywhere, signifying a city where each person had come from… colors tied to hats or as sashes around waists or as cloaks. Denir in blue, Mar in yellow, accented by a multitude of other colors, Sur in gray, Forest View with green and black and Tean with earthy brown, and red from Belor if anyone actually showed up from there besides the Preacher. In all the swirls of color how would he ever find one man?

  His mother already sat on a raised stand above the level of the crowd. The wives of the other councilors sat next to her. The Queen, had she still been alive, would have sat at the head of the group. Darius and his father made their way through the crowds toward an even higher stand. Here the King’s chair sat tallest, with his three closest councilors on his right and the other councilors on the left. An extra chair sat on the right for Darius. They will never believe it. Me, a king?

  Darius took his seat and looked out at the crowd. They all seemed to be looking at him. Well, why shouldn't they? They would wonder what he was doing up with the councilors. His cloak moved about him in the slight breeze. As one of the King’s commanders, his sword was at his side. By now everyone had heard of his victory in Denir. He hoped no one knew about Belor, at least his professed siding with the Preacher. But he had to keep the ruse up with the man to get him to come with him to Anikari. His hope had been to turn him in and get him in prison. However, since he had escaped and was now probably in the coliseum, Darius would have to be careful. He continued scanning the large assembly. He had to be prepared for something to happen.

  Looking out across the gathering, he glanced over the other dignitaries, nobles, and city leaders in the front fe
w rows. Higher up in the stands he saw a few of his friends from school. I hope Kelln is all right with this. He hadn’t shared the secret yet with his best friend. Thinking of Kelln had him wondering if he and Alessandra had reached Belor in time to bring back the rest of his Elite army with them.

  Darius’s mind swam and he found it hard to focus. He was juggling so many secrets and plans at the moment. He breathed deeply and drew some power into him. Not enough for others to see, just enough to calm himself.

  The only one missing was King Edward. Soon, heads in the crowd turned away from the stand and toward the entrance of the coliseum. He watched the carriage with the King’s flag waving in the slight breeze. Four proud Cremelino horses led the way. He wondered if anyone else knew the secret of the Cremelinos and their ability to speak to the minds of wizards.

  This had been the first time the King had been out in public in many weeks. Darius heard the whispers in the crowd. They all expected him to name his new successor. Won’t they all be surprised?

  The King was brought to the stand on a chair held by four men dressed in royal purple. He stepped from the chair and onto the podium, his walk slow and deliberate as he moved to his throne. The crowd fell silent. Darius heard a few sounds from outside of the coliseum, vendors selling their wares and children playing. He gave a quick glance at his father. King Edward looked so much older than his father did now, though only two years separated them.

  King Edward DarSan Montere stood up in front of his throne and rested one hand on its polished gold inlaid armrest. The other hand he raised to the crowd.

  The crowd erupted as if on cue. The citizens of the Realm stood and cheered. Anikari had always rallied around its kings. The people loved Edward. Until the recent events, he had kept peace in the Realm for almost fifteen years. Neither the Gildanians nor Arcs had even tried an attack in over ten years.

  The King seated himself. An expectant hush fell over the crowd as the King began to speak from a sitting position, his voice raspy and weak. The crowd had to strain to hear the words. Each person leaned forward so as not to miss anything. The King began by telling about his father, Charles, the previous king. The speech was well rehearsed to only say what was necessary. Darius looked around and saw soldiers throughout the crowd. They were prepared if trouble began. He thought he saw Jain moving through the crowd once, but he quickly became lost. Still no sign of the Preacher.

  At the back of the crowd Darius saw movement. Cray sending some men around to the sides of the coliseum. Was he expecting trouble or… causing it? Darius wondered what authority Cray had anymore and began to worry that Cray was acting outside of the King’s direction.

  The crowd’s tension mounted as Edward told of the old king banishing his son Alric, the rightful heir. This would be news to those who knew recent history. They all assumed King Charles’s son had died in battle. Some of the nobles leaned forward even more, realizing all of a sudden that there still might be a royal line. Darius wondered exactly how the King would announce the succession.

  “My older brother did not die in battle at sea as our history has been told. He lived in disguise the rest of his life raising his son. This boy, who was two years old when I was born, was included in his father’s banishment of the throne, but the next generation was not.” The King slowly gazed over the crowd. He wanted his words to sink in. He led them along magnificently. The tension was at a crescendo.

  Cray halted, signaling to his men something that Darius couldn’t tell. They looked ready to attack, not defend.

  Darius felt as if he was going to be sick. He began to panic. I can't be king! No! No! King Edward stood, this time with no support. “I announce today there is still one of the direct royal line. My Senior Councilor Richard San Williams is actually my nephew, the son of my banished older brother and...”

  The sentence seemed to take forever. The beginnings of murmurings and whisperings spread throughout the crowd. Darius’s heart nearly burst. The sun beat down on his face, making him sweat.

  “…his son, Darius San Williams, first Captain of the King’s Elite Army, I proclaim as my rightful heir to the throne of power. He will be your next rightful king of the Realm.”

  King Edward stopped speaking. Darius’s heart missed a beat. The crowd took a deep, simultaneous breath. But when the breath came out, so did chaos. Through the crowd, Darius caught Cray’s eyes in a brief flicker. His old trainer’s eyes were open in surprise. He gave Darius a slight nod of respect and a large smile, then signaled to his men to retreat.

  The people cheered... or was it yelling? Darius couldn't tell. Maybe both. The King motioned for Darius to join him. The crowd quieted down somewhat as Darius walked forward, hard black boots clicking on the stage.

  He stood beside the King clothed in his royal garb, his dark purple cloak swirling around him in a growing breeze. Power rose within him and amplified his persona. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword. It wanted to be drawn and to feed on his power, but Darius kept it in check.

  The King motioned for Darius to kneel before him. Drawing his own gold sword, Edward tapped Darius on the right shoulder. “Darius San Williams, Commander of the King’s Elite Army, great grandson of my father, King Charles, through the direct royal line. I, King Edward DarSan Montere, of the great Realm of this people, anoint you to be the servant of all and the King of all after I have departed this mortal life. You are now named Darius DarSan Williams, heir to the Throne of Power and next king of the Realm, with all rights, privileges, and power associated with that high and noble title.”

  The power built inside Darius. He strained to keep it under control. This must be a dream! He almost laughed with giddiness but kept it under control.

  The King continued. “Be it known that anyone who contests this anointing is an enemy of the Realm and shall, with his family, be known as traitors to our society.”

  Darius wondered how long this would go on. The official part was over. Now it was an old king trying to prevent civil war. Darius saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head slightly. Red and purple. It must be him. And...

  Darius jumped up with a shout. With a speed that many would talk about later, he pushed the King out of the way as a red arrow flew past him. The crowd jumped as one and yelled. Soldiers ran through the crowd as another arrow shot through the air. Darius ducked, trying to get a look at the shooter at the same time, but the King had moved to the side, and the arrow struck him in the arm.

  Richard lunged to the King’s side as Darius leaped off the stand. Red arrows. The color of Belor.

  As he ran through the crowd, the crowd’s eyes followed him. Is this the way a king acts? “Well this is the way I act,” he mumbled under his breath. Among all of Anikari, only he, along with maybe Kelln and Alessandra, realized how dangerous the Preacher really was.

  Darius saw a group of soldiers running toward a small door in the back of the coliseum. The room should be locked. It led into a giant kitchen rarely used. As Darius caught up to them, the Preacher was nowhere to be seen. Darius stood on top of a bench and scanned the area. Only a short distance away he saw the back of someone. Red hat. This is what the messenger had alluded to. The Preacher had a purple cloak and red hat. Darius jumped down and muscled through the crowd, stooping low so the man wouldn't notice him.

  Right before he got there, a dark blur ran in front of him and tackled the Preacher to the ground, holding him by force.

  “Is this who you were looking for, Sire?” Cray seemed to emphasize the last word.

  “Yes. Thanks, Cray.”

  Cray turned the man around, facing the Preacher toward Darius.

  The Preacher’s face was red with anger “Traitor!” He spat. “No one will follow you.”

  The crowd had gathered to watch what their newly anointed king-to-be would do. A boiling rage surfaced inside of him. His eyes sharpened as the power built. He lifted up his hand to strike the Preacher, but as he did he remembered Sean's words about Darius learni
ng to control his temper if he was ever going to be great. Darius cringed again at the thought that Sean, of all people, would say something that would be of benefit to him. With his hand still in the air, he waved for some of the guards to take his prisoner away to the dungeons.

  Darius wiped the spit from his face and glared at the Preacher. “You will never see Belor again.”

  Darius turned to go but out of the corner of his eye saw power gather around the Preacher. The Preacher pulled his hands away from the guards and held them forward. Sparks began to jump forth from his hands. Darius moved to intercept but was afraid to show his powers yet. Suddenly, Cray came up from behind the Preacher and with muscled arms held a cloth over his mouth. The Preacher struggled for a brief moment and then sank to his knees. Darius gaped at Cray. It was the same reaction Darius himself had in Forest View when he was captured. The mixture in the cloth seemed to dull the power in an instant.

  Darius looked sternly at Cray, wondering why he had the concoction ready to go.

  Cray whispered, “I didn’t know about your ancestry – that you were of the direct royal line, but I knew about your other power and your previous anger. I had to be prepared to protect the kingdom if need be.”

  Darius nodded his understanding and realized that Cray had been prepared to take him down if he would have shown aggression to the Realm. Cray was loyal to the Realm.

  Darius motioned for the guards to put the Preacher in a dungeon cell until he could talk with his father and the King.

  The King!

  Darius raced back through the crowd toward the stand. His soldier training had taken over when the King had been shot with the arrow. Now his lungs filled with flames as he raced with all of his might. He prayed mightily for King Edward to still be alive. He was not ready to be king yet.

  Richard and some other men had put the wounded Edward in his carriage during the commotion. A palace healer sat in the carriage with him, extracting the arrow. As Darius reached the carriage, he saw Jain standing next to it. Darius smiled his thanks to him. Jain bowed and turned to leave.