by Mike Shelton
“Run away!” Christine shouted. The link that was always there with her horse seemed to be fractured again. It was so frustrating. She concentrated harder. Lightning was frantic to reach her. With one last lunge, she jumped past the men and came up to Christine, who was now on the ground guarded by one of the men in black. Christine reached her hand and for a brief instant touched her Cremelino’s leg. The connection was established again, bright and warm. The familiar feeling flooded through her mind. “Run for help. Tell the guards. Tell Darius it is Arc. Tell him I love him. Go now!”
A guard swung his sword again at Lightning, slicing a line down her left side. Pain erupted through the link as the horse pulled away from Christine. With a speed unmatched, the Cremelino jumped between two horses, catching another sword strike by her tail, then faded into the distant fields.
The guard forced Christine to sit up. Dizziness set in, and her stomach cramped. Crying out, she heaved and gave up her breakfast onto the feet of her kidnapper.
The man grunted in disgust, and brought a hand up to slap her, but one of the other man shouted a word to stop the action. His hand froze in mid-air.
Christine, not having much history in languages, did recognize that word, and it was not from the Kingdom of Arc. It was from Gildan. She tried to reach out to find Lightning’s bond once again to warn her it was the Gildanians disguised as Arcs, but the link was gone. Why would the Gildanians kidnap her?
The link that had been in the back of her mind since Darius had given her the Cremelino was gone. It was silent. Her constant companion was gone; her mind was empty of Lightning’s thoughts. Christine had been frustrated, angry, and even afraid before in her life, but never had she felt terror and dread like this. A part of her was missing.
Another bout of nausea brought her back down to the ground. She heaved, but nothing came out. Dizziness overwhelmed her. Blackness crept in from the corner of her vision.
“Oh, Darius. Help me,” she cried out, and then the darkness took her, and she fell in a slump on the ground.
Chapter Eight
TIME FOR SPEED
Mezar Alrishitar hated feeling this way. Despite his royalty and power, he found himself hiding in a second rate inn in Salish, a small merchant town. Being at the southern door to the Realm and to the Kingdom of Arc, the mid-size town was a rough city consisting of merchants, guards, and those looking to find a deal. Fights often erupted in the poorer quarters, in which Mezar now found himself living. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves again.
It had been over a week since leaving Gildan. He knew his father was still looking for him. Unlike his normal fashion, Mezar let his hair hang down to blend in with the locals. With his change of clothes, he looked more like a hired guard. He stayed at the inn, feigning a few days of vacation after guarding a merchant train around the Realm. The innkeeper didn’t care for his story as long as he paid his bill.
Lowell had arrived the day before. He’d received the message in Gildan as Mezar had planned but could not get away unnoticed until the immediate urgency of the search had died down.
He used Lowell as his eyes and ears to catch any talk in Salish regarding the renegade prince of Gildan. Nothing was heard. Through his cousin, he began gathering in a few other trusted friends and acquaintances. These men now settled into the private dining room they had hired for the evening. The innkeeper thought them a group of old guard friends living things up for the evening. A few serving girls brought some steaming bread and broiled meat into the warm room. Mezar had to be careful he didn’t flash around too much money or people would get suspicious.
“It is true, Mezar,” Gregor, a wizard friend of the prince, started, “that your grandfather seems to be getting more sick. Healers and wizards attend him, but they are only those chosen by the general himself.”
“Why is he doing this?” Mezar’s frustration rose. His father had ambitions to rule, and he and the Emperor did not agree on many things, but Mezar would have never guessed he would go to this extent to become Emperor. The current Emperor was very old and did not have many years as it was.
“I also saw something, my Prince,” Allon, a guard on the palace grounds and one who knew Lowell more than Mezar, said. “I was returning from, uh . . .” He stumbled a bit and blushed. “A meeting with a friend.” Smiles grew around the room. Allon was known for the multiple ladies he juggled so well.
“And as I was saying,” he began again. “I was returning to my room in the castle a few days ago when I heard the sound of horses and men in the stables. I thought it strange at that time of night, so I went to investigate. A group of men stood close together. Your father stood in the midst of them. He carried a large bag, and he pulled out black cloaks and clothes to give to each man. He told them to keep them hidden until they were ready.”
Allon took a drink. “After the general left, the men climbed on their horses and went out the back gates. As they left, I overheard one man remark that he learned from someone else that the new King of the Realm was a wizard and how were they supposed to take the queen with him around. There was an answer, but I couldn’t understand it.”
At this, Mezar stood. “And when was this?”
“Almost a week ago.”
“That means they are probably already in the Realm, probably too far ahead to catch up to.”
“We can’t just ride into the Realm. They are looking for you, Mezar,” Lowell added.
“You are right. We are going to all join a merchant train as hired guards.”
Of the five men around the table, some looked excited, and some looked surprised.
“A hired guard?” one of the men of noble birth asked.
“Think of it as going undercover, William. Just like when we used to sneak around the castle at night when we were little boys. Now we will be sneaking around another kingdom, trying to protect its queen.”
William smiled. “Ah. Now you’re talking some fun. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
Mezar sent Lowell and Allon out to get them hired on a wagon train leaving in the morning. Darius was touring the Realm and expected to come to Gildan in a few weeks, but Mezar didn’t know where he or his wife were at the moment. The merchant wagons would be slower but would keep the Gildanian men hidden. He needed to find Christine and Darius and warn them, if it wasn’t already too late.
Once again, he would be traveling the Realm in disguise. That had been the plan the previous year, for his division of men to form a diversion so that Mezar could sneak around the Realm for a while and return information back to his father and grandfather. His plans were thwarted when Darius had captured him in Denir. For the following months, he saw the Realm in a very different light. He had made friends and had even sworn to support Darius for the rest of his life.
Thoughts of Leandra came unbidden to his mind as he thought about the Realm. She had been caught up in Sean San Ghant’s kidnapping of Darius, but she and Mezar had found a friendship along the way. He fingered a ring on his right hand that glowed with a soft power. Linking to it was a similar stone on a necklace he had given Leandra before he left the Realm earlier in the summer. His features softened thinking of her. He would like to visit her again while he was in their neighboring kingdom.
First things first, however. Duty always seemed to call. The balance of power between the Realm and the Empire of Gildan hung on a fragile thread at the moment. Mezar had to find Darius without any more delays.
* * *
Darius sat at a small banquet table in the easternmost twin city. The Twin Cities were more like large villages bordering the edge of civilization up against the Mountains of Gold. The two appointed mayors insisted on honoring the King. Local mine leaders and other high-ranking townspeople attended the event. Roland, embarrassed at the attention, sat next to Darius as an honored guest also. They had taken a tour of the mines and visited people in both cities over the last two days. Tomorrow they would depart back down the mountain to meet up with Jakob a
nd continue on to Sur.
The cool air pressed down the mountain slopes, but the room sat filled to capacity with people and food, all vying for the King’s attention. Darius was tired of sitting and took a sip of wine to settle himself down. A walk in the night air would have done him good, but he realized he should never be alone in this faraway city that hadn’t had a King visit them for a long time. A few tall dark-skinned men with long braided hair stood mingling in the crowd.
Darius leaned over to one of his hosts. “Who are they?”
One of the mayors smiled. “Bet you don’t see them in the capital, do you?” He laughed, and food ran down into his beard. “Those are men from down south—further than Gildan and the southern kingdoms. They say their people live in the mountain divide there – the small kingdom of Mahli.”
Darius opened his eyes wide and sat up to inspect the men once again. “I had no idea people lived there.” The young King didn’t hide his ignorance.
“Not a lot of people from what they say,” the mayor continued, “but enough. They are a superstitious lot, talking about the power of dragons and waiting for their prophesied leader to return.”
“Their leader?”
“It is taught in legend that a mighty Dragon King will one day arise, bring their people back into civilization and glory, and unite all of the southern Kingdoms. In the meantime, they send out scouts into each kingdom to look for signs of his coming. They are a very strong people and offered to help us move our mine machinery around. They don’t seem to mind the darkness in the mines either. They are a happy lot, work well, and treat us politely. We pay them well for what they do, and in the end they tend to stay mostly to themselves.”
“Strange. I will have to ask more about them when I am in Gildan,” Darius said, realizing he wasn’t going to get any more answers about them tonight. “All I know from history books is the last dragon was seen over 150 years ago.”
The evening continued until everyone had eaten their fill. Darius stood up to speak. He recognized the parents of the young boy they had brought back with them, standing in the back. He had met them the day before. The boy’s father would not be able to work the mines much longer. The mines, the King found out, were hard work on people, the pay and treatment of them not very compassionate. He could change that. He felt their difficulties in his heart, and an idea suddenly came to him.
“I am honored to be here,” Darius began, projecting his voice with his power so all could hear. Others stood outside the room, curious as to what a King would say. “Your cities have been hospitable and welcoming.”
The townspeople smiled and glanced around at each other.
“I know you have your struggles here, especially after a dry spring and summer this year; food has been hard to get. I have given a King’s charge to the villages along the main road to provide you with food until you can grow your own again.”
The crowd cheered, and tears came to the eyes of some of the women.
“There is a condition, however, that no more stealing occurs. If you have a problem, you can send a message to me or my councilors in Anikari.”
The people nodded.
Darius continued, “I have noticed some sickness here since some of the men and women work too long in the mines without proper pay.” He noticed some of the local merchants who ran the mines paying close attention. “I know this is hard work and profits need to be made, but I now make a decree. No work in the mines will occur on the seventh day of the week. This will give time for the workers to rest and regain their strength. There will also be proper clothing provided to them.”
“My Lord” a man shouted from the back. “We do have to make a profit for the owners of the mines. These actions will make things difficult.”
“Sir. Who do you think owns these mines?” Darius asked.
“Well. Uh . . . I am not sure I know,” the man stumbled. He was a manager in the mines, given a task to keep the workers working, but he didn’t know who he worked for.
“The mines belong to me,” Darius stated pointedly. He was now glad his father had made him go to some of the trade meetings with him over the last few years. At the time, he hated his father’s assumption that he would follow in his footsteps. Darius had not cared for having the life of a noble. However, once he learned that fate made him the next King he accepted the responsibility. His duty was heavy at times, but he was determined to make a difference and change some things around the Realm.
“By belonging to me—I mean, the King of the Realm is the owner of these mines. So, as owner of this mine and as of this day, I declare ten percent of the value of what is mined will be returned to your communities to upgrade your housing, get needed medical attention, and purchase food and other materials when needed.”
The crowd responded with a resounding cheer.
Roland leaned in close to Darius. “Someone will find a way to take advantage of this situation.”
“I know. There will always be someone to try and take advantage, but I need to help these people. They are my people. They are desperate and poor. The ten percent coming back to them will hopefully motivate them to work harder and smarter. Even with one day a week off, I expect production to increase.”
Roland’s eyes widened. “But how do you figure out these things so rapidly, Sire?”
Darius turned quiet for a moment before he whispered back to Roland. “It’s the blessing of having the power, Roland. As a wizard of the heart, the power rules my emotions and feelings. When I care for my people, thoughts and feelings come quickly to my mind of what I must do to help them. My power provides answers of what I should do.”
“That’s a lot of pressure, my King.”
“Yes, it is.” Darius smiled. “Yes, it is.” Being a new King was a lot of pressure. He never quite knew as he jumped to conclusions and answers if they were the right thing to do or not. He supposed he would make mistakes, but if the power would guide him most of the time, he thought he would be fine.
A crowd of dignitaries gathered around the King, thanking him for his attention to their small communities. They bowed in renewed allegiance to him and to the might and glory of the Realm. The festivities lasted well into the night.
In the cool mountain air early the next morning, Darius and Roland, along with the other guards whom accompanied them, prepared to return down to the main road. The two mayors stood by to greet them as they left, once again signifying their appreciation. Darius hoped he had done some good here. He was anxious to get back to Christine, to bathe in her warm smile, and to hold her in his arms once again. They had been separated far too long.
The beginning of the small road had been well-maintained, and they made good time starting down the mountain. A low cloud hung over the Mountains of Gold, signifying that winter would shortly come to the mountains.
At a curve in the road, Darius yelled in pain, grabbed his head, and slid sideways off his horse. Roland and the other guards jumped off of theirs and ran over to their King.
“My Lord!” Roland shouted.
“Christine,” the King moaned. “Lightning!”
“What is wrong, Sire?” Roland looked terrified.
“Something is terribly wrong.” Darius, still pale, sat back up. “I heard a faraway scream in my mind from Lightning. It penetrated my mind so deep and hard I almost blacked out. It was pure terror. Christine is in trouble!”
The guards helped Darius to his feet and back to his horse, where he slowly remounted. “We need to hurry faster to meet Jakob. Maybe the other Cremelinos know something.”
Darius spurred his horse forward at breakneck speed, oblivious to the rocks and twists in the road, relying on the horse to find a way through them.
“You must be careful, my Lord,” Roland cautioned.
Darius gave him a firm look that brooked no more argument from his guard. Darius was the King and his captain swore to obey him. Everyone understood that Darius would do anything for his wife.
Even at the
ir quick pace, they had to stop a few times to let the horses drink and eat. At each stop, Darius paced in restless worry and continued trying to reach out to Lightning. But nothing came. At one stop later that evening, he reached one of the other Cremelinos in his mind.
Wizard, did you hear the cry? The Cremelino sounded shaken.
“Yes. What happened?”
Lightning is hurt. The Kingdom of Arc sent men to capture the queen. She was taken by them and Lightning barely escaped, but she is hiding in an abandoned farm north of Sur.
“Is she sure it was Arc?” Darius couldn’t understand why they would do this. “This doesn’t make sense. We are on the way to visit them.”
Lightning said they dressed in all black with dark veils over their faces. Christine told her to go for help.
Darius’s heart lurched at the mention of his beloved wife. “Was Christine hurt?”
The last Lightning saw, her guards had been killed, but the captors didn’t hurt her. The Cremelino’s voice became louder in his head. Without warning, Jakob and the Cremelinos burst through the clearing where Darius stood.
Lightning is fading. She has lost all contact with Christine, the male Cremelino shouted to Darius’s mind.
“What does that mean, to lose contact? What happened? Where is she?” Darius was beside himself. Was his wife unconscious, too far away, or something else? He couldn’t dwell on anything worse. He couldn’t. It would tear him apart.
Anger built up in the King, anger he hadn’t borne in a while. Christine meant more to him than the kingdom or his throne. The emotions amplified his power, and he screamed, “Arc will pay for this treachery.”
Lightning needs you, Wizard. She needs your healing power, the Cremelino pleaded. We must go to her first, then she can help us find Christine.
The pleading brought Darius back from his cliff of anger. He could still have compassion. The Cremelino was right; he needed to find Lightning and heal her. She was his only way of finding Christine. He had to get there fast. Darius eyed the Cremelino that had been communicating with him.
