by Mike Shelton
It is time. The Cremelino trotted up to Darius. I have chosen you for my bonding, Wizard.
Darius nodded in agreement, putting his hand out to touch the approaching Cremelino.
“I name you Thunder. Thunder to show forth my power, Thunder to roll across the Realm, Thunder to find Lightning and Christine.” He choked up and wiped tears from the corner of his wet eyes. Darius pulled out his sword and thrust it high in the air. Yellow and red lightning crackled around the weapon, and the sound of deep thunder rolled across the sky in a deafening tone.
“We ride now!” he yelled and jumped on the back of the Cremelino. Straightway, new emotions flooded through his mind and heart. A presence filled a new awareness in his mind that he had never felt before. He had communicated with the Cremelinos before, but he hadn’t realized what the bond felt like. He envied Christine for what she had been experiencing. It was pure thought with a magical creature. It brought clarity of mind and strength of body. His wizarding powers alongside the Cremelino presented him with increased power and vision.
“Roland, you and Jakob bring the rest of the horses as fast as you can to Sur. I need to go on ahead. I can’t wait any longer.”
“I understand, my Lord. Good luck.”
“If need be, we can communicate with the Cremelinos through Jakob,” Darius yelled as he dashed around a curve in the path and out of sight. It would be dark soon, but that would not impact the pair. They would lend their strength and abilities to each other, as it was always meant to be. Wizard and Cremelino, bonded together once again!
Chapter Nine
THE GUILDS
Richard San Williams, senior councilor and father to the King, left the council meeting frustrated. Too many of the councilors seemed more worried about how they would appear or about how much money they had in their strongboxes than in the affairs of the Realm itself. Richard grudgingly agreed Martin Halverssn, a farmer, was one of the few with a good head on his shoulders. Richard felt he, Martin, and Cray Dreydon, the military advisor, were sometimes the few men of reason in the room. Even Jarad and Michael, the other two senior councilors, seemed to slide back to old ways when Darius was not around. He knew that he was not perfect, and by no means did he agree with everything that Darius did, but he was fiercely loyal to the Realm itself.
He guessed he shouldn’t expect everything to change at once. Richard himself should know about changes. It had been a shock finding out only recently he had not grown up as only the son of a poor brick maker, but a son that should have been King after his father. The subsequent information that he and his father had been banned from being King but his son Darius had not been had changed him further. Upon finding out the reason his family had been banned from the throne was because his father Alric, as heir to the throne, had married a commoner from the farmlands, his life had completely tumbled.
The one thing that kept him going through those days was that his friend King Edward needed him. His son’s ascension to the throne came much earlier than Edward or Richard had anticipated. He now stayed on in the unique position as councilor to his own son when in fact if his father had never been banished, he himself would have been the King for a time. Oh, there were times he held his tongue and wanted to strangle his son; however he had to admit his son had not done too bad as King. Compassionate to a fault and impetuous, Darius cared little for meetings, but he was young, enthusiastic, and had a genuine concern for all the people of the Realm, from all walks of life. That was something Richard was still learning, and apparently many of the other councilors were also. He had to admit that previously when he thought about the Realm, he had thought about those in the city and their interaction with one another and neighboring kingdoms. Including the farmers and others as part of the Realm had been a difficult transition for him.
“Richard.” Cray strode toward him. His age had done nothing to limit his influence and stature.
Richard looked at his old sword master and mentor and smiled, thinking this man had tutored his son also. That was before Darius knew his place and had come to grips with being a King. He chuckled to himself.
Cray cocked his gray head to the side, as if asking what was so funny. A dark-skinned stocky man in his sixties, he had been the most able commander of the King’s forces longer than most could remember.
“I was just thinking of you having to teach my son up in the Superstition Mountains. Must have been quite interesting,” Richard said.
Cray nodded. “Quite interesting!” He changed the subject. “I need to go to Sur. These other councilors care only about what is happening in their own backyard. Can’t they see a buildup of Arc forces, even a small one, is no mere trifle?”
“I agree, Commander.” Reports of at least five hundred men from Arc setting up a camp on the border had come before the council. “The King of Arc’s son, Prince Bronwyn, is leading those men and used the excuse that they were there to honor the new King of the Realm, but that many armed men close to the border is a worry nonetheless. Take a small battalion of horsemen with you and go now.”
Cray raised his eyebrows. The council had decided otherwise.
“With Darius gone, it is my right as first councilor to make decisions in regards to the safety of the Realm. We can say it’s an honor guard for our King in meeting with their leader.”
“Two can play at their game, huh?” Cray said.
“I don’t know what they are up to. It doesn’t take troops to meet with the King. Their black-clad riders can be intimidating,” Richard added.
“My sources tell me the King’s son Bronwyn is more greedy than his father and that he has no love for the Realm or wizards, either.”
“Wizards have advised the Kingdom of Arc for centuries.” Richard frowned and looked around the long hallway. Lowering his voice, he said, “Though I must admit, I am still not so comfortable around wizard power yet either.”
Cray gave the councilor a direct look, as if testing Richard’s reactions. “Your son and King is one of them.”
Richard jaw drew tense. “Don’t try and test my loyalties, Cray. I serve my son as you do, faithfully and fully.”
“Of course you do.” Cray turned to go. “By your leave, I will go to Sur now.”
After a couple of steps, Richard breathed out a puff of air. “Cray?”
Richard watched as his old mentor turned around. Unbidden memories of his father ran through his mind. Cray had known his father as Prince Alric many years ago. From what Cray told him, they had been best friends, and Cray was even aware of Alric’s growing powers. When Alric was disinherited for marrying an outsider, King Charles spread the rumor that his son had died in battle. Until Cray had met Darius up in the training camp, he'd thought his friend's line had vanished with him. Darius looked a lot like Alric at the same age. But Alric had changed his identity and assumed the occupation of bricklayer to provide for his wife and son.
“Take care of my son,” Richard said with emotion.
“I will, councilor.” Cray paused. “He is definitely the best of us all.”
Richard nodded. That he was.
“And take young Jain with you as your body servant. It’s about time the queen’s brother got some training in the real world.”
* * *
Kelln had a challenging time telling the difference between rumor and truth in the streets of Mar. And no one seemed to be able to think for themselves before checking with their guild. The Guild of Merchants and unfortunately the Guild of Thieves were the largest, but by no means were they the only ones of significant influence. Kelln had heard of the Guild of Fishermen, the Guild of Dressmakers, the Guild of Bricklayers, the Guild of Weapon Makers, and even the Guild of Wives. Kelln vowed never to get entangled with that one. It had a long reach throughout the city.
Talk of a new guild had surfaced in the last week—a Guild of Protection. The talk around Mar had the ring of the Preacher behind it. No one seemed to know how to contact him, though. The streets said if they chose you,
a dark-haired beauty would be in contact. Alessandra!
Kelln sat in the ambassador’s office in the city office building. Two guards stood outside his door with two more at each entrance to the building. Dozens more were stationed around the city. Darius had been true to his word and had delivered a battalion of guards to protect his interests in the city.
Kelln sat thinking about Darius. Through Tali’s Cremelino, they received the dire news that something had happened to Christine and Lightning. The Kingdom of Arc was on the move. Kelln had wanted to come and help, but Darius needed him to stay in Mar and try to find the Preacher and his daughter. He couldn’t afford fighting on one front with another enemy at his back.
Lost in thought, he almost jumped out of his seat when a closet door opened and Rapp came strolling out. The small young man certainly had a way of surprising people. Freckles covered his youthful cheeks. His impish grin and smiling eyes told Kelln the boy enjoyed the surprise.
“Rapp. What are you doing in my closet?”
Rapp tried to pat down his unruly hair, but to no avail. “There’s a secret door. All the rooms have them.”
“That’s fantastic!” Kelln stood up the rest of the way. “I love Mar. Secrets wrapped in secrets.”
“Well, I do have a secret for you, Ambassador.” Rapp sat on the edge of Kelln’s mahogany desk.
The ambassador tried to give a scolding look to the scoundrel, but he didn’t have the heart to tell him to get off of the desk. Rapp, although sneaky and squirrely, was an amiable boy, and for some reason he had taken a liking to Kelln. “Out with it then. The secret?”
“Some of the minor guilds are having a meeting tonight. It is rumored a new Guild of Protection will be talking to them and trying to form a loose alliance. This could be your chance to find the Preacher.”
“Nothing more than rumors again?” It was the third time in a week a supposed meeting was to take place. When they arrived at the appointed place in disguise, nothing had occurred.
“This one is more reliable.” Rapp hopped off the desk. “I heard from the baker, who heard from his wife, who talked to a member of the Tree Grower’s Guild—”
“The Tree Grower’s Guild?” Kelln threw up his hands in exasperation. “They need a guild for trees?”
“How else would they be planted and cared for?” Rapp said, absolutely serious.
Kelln smiled. How else indeed? Only in Mar. “And this is reliable?”
“Well, the member of the Tree Grower’s Guild overhead—”
“Forget it, Rapp. I can’t keep rushing out on hearsay.”
“The mention of a dark-haired girl was heard,” Rapp added.
“Why didn’t you say so at first?”
“I was getting to that part.” Rapp frowned.
Kelln rubbed his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on. “All right. Is Tali coming with us this time again? What’s the disguise?”
“Fishermen Guild,” he replied.
Kelln scrunched his nose. “Not again.” He remembered the last time. He couldn’t get the smell off of him for two days.
“They are a large guild, so not all the members know each other. And others stay away from them due to the stink.” Rapp laughed. “Be ready tonight.” With that, Rapp walked out the door this time to the obvious amazement of the guards who had never seen him enter. They looked at Kelln for explanation.
“Don’t ask,” Kelln said. “I can’t explain what that boy does.”
Later that night, Rapp led Kelln and Tali to an abandoned warehouse. Tali’s disguise made her appear older. Rapp, due to his small size, was supposed to be their young son. It was a stretch, but should hold up in the darkened room.
Just outside the warehouse, Rapp produced some fish guts from a sealed bag. Kelln almost passed out as they wiped the mess over their dirty fishing attire. Approaching the door, they were given a wide berth, and no questions were asked. Kelln wore a fishermen’s cap, covering his red curls. The three intruders hung in the shadows, watching and waiting.
The gathering crowd grew bigger with an obvious division of each guild standing by their own. There was little trust in Mar. Some held onto lanterns in the dark building, but plenty of shadows covered the fringes of the group. As predicted, people stayed away from the members of the Fishermen Guild, even going so far as to tell them to get to the back.
Soon, a woman with her head covered in a colorful scarf entered the room, carrying a bright lantern. Kelln strained up on his toes. He wished for Darius’s height for the hundredth time in his life. But it wasn’t meant to be. He would always be short.
“It’s her,” he whispered to his companions. He knew her walk and stance well after the last year.
Alessandra held up her arms to silence the crowd. She took her time pulling back the hood of her cloak. Many of the men murmured their approval at her good looks, while their wives elbowed them in the ribs. With a slow turn of her neck, she looked around the room. Though he suspected she couldn’t see him in the dim light, Kelln ducked back down to avoid being detected.
After ensuring complete silence, Alessandra began to speak. “My father and I are here to form a new guild: the Guild of Protection. Too many of the smaller guilds cannot standup to the larger ones, especially the governor’s Merchants’ Guild. The governor and his companion guilds are too strict to set the terms and prices of goods and services in Mar.”
A few shouts and praises of agreement rippled through the crowd.
“We approached the governor, but he did not understand the need for our guild.”
The crowd shouted in anger toward their governor.
“That’s because he wants to keep you cowed. He wants control. And who does he work for?”
The crowd was quiet, then a voice from the other side of the room yelled, “The King.”
“Yes, the King. The governor does everything for the King, but what does the King do for you?”
Kelln was amazed at her boldness. It wasn’t fair. Darius had planned on coming to Mar, but the chaos in the guilds and the Preacher being loose had stopped him.
“Nothing,” a lady shouted. “The King does nothing for us. Hasn’t even come and visited us.”
“That’s right,” Alessandra continued. “Because the King does nothing, we have to do things ourselves. That is why we are here to protect you against the King and his people—the governor and the ambassador.”
Kelln wanted to shout out. She was making this personal now, which was quite unfair. But now he understood what this was. This was the Preacher’s way of trying to trap Kelln once again. Alessandra would bad-mouth the King and him, forcing Kelln to confront her and her father.
“But how will you protect us?” a man up front asked, still wearing his baker’s apron. “What about the Guild of Thieves?”
“They will cooperate with us,” Alessandra informed them. “We are reaching an agreement with them. Those that join the Guild of Protection will not have to worry about the thieves.”
The people seemed impressed at the breadth of the new guild already. People started talking in small conversations among themselves.
“You are just a girl. How can you protect us?” a large man shouted, from the Guild of Bricklayers by the looks of his clothes.
Someone else took up the mantra also. Soon dissent rang through the cavernous room.
With a flourish, Alessandra lifted up her arms, and the lanterns glowed brighter. She twisted her right hand, and a sword flew away from the side of one of the attendees. She flicked again, pushing out her palms in front of her, and two people fell to the floor.
Kelln receded farther into the shadows. Was she a wizard, too? He remembered conversations they had had, wondering if the powers would flow from her grandfather to her father and then to her or not. Kelln thought about her grandfather, the kindly old Alastair, who had been blinded by the powerful rage of his son, the Preacher. Kelln had learned a lot from the old man, holed up with him for a few days in the Black Forest
. That is where he had learned to trust in God, a higher power that directed them. Whenever angry or frustrated, he thought of that teaching and felt peace. He tried to do so now.
Tali leaned close to him, interrupting his reminiscing thoughts. “The power is not coming from her.”
“What?”
“I can sense people’s powers. I feel Mr. El’Lan, your Preacher friend.”
“He’s no friend of mine. Tries to kill me each time he sees me,” Kelln mumbled, realization dawning on him. “The Preacher? He is here then?”
Tali nodded.
All three of them started looking around. They moved around the edges of the room with care. Most of the crowd was enthralled in Alessandra’s performance and did not notice the three of them. A few people looked at them as they moved around, but once they got a whiff of the fish, they moved away.
“There he is.” Kelln pointed to a man in the shadows about a quarter of the way around the room from them.
Tali nodded. “That is where the power is coming from.”
“Now what?” Rapp asked. “Do we kill him?”
Kelln looked at him and shook his head. “No, Rapp. We’ll follow them and watch where they go. We need to find out their full plans. Once I know that, I will bring the guards with me to confront him. He is powerful, so we must be careful.”
Rapp looked disappointed they weren’t going to kill Mr. El’Lan.
The magic stopped, and Alessandra continued. “Now mark your name or guild on this paper, and we will contact each of your privately about what it takes to join our guild.” She motioned them to a small table where a parchment and quill stood waiting for the signatures.
Some of the attendees slipped away, but most gathered to sign. They were interested in anything that could protect them from the Guild of Thieves.
As people left and the dim room became less crowded, the small group of three hung back farther in the shadows and hid behind a large broken doorframe. Soon everyone had gone except for them and the Preacher and Alessandra. Tali used a small amount of her power to amplify the voices of the father and daughter, who stood on the other side of the room by a small lantern.
