The Path Of Peace (The Cremelino Prophecy Book 3)

by Mike Shelton

  “I am sorry to disturb you, my Lord.” Roland was almost out of breath. “A group of men and a lady just arrived. They appear, ah, shall I say, like thieves or mercenaries. They say they have an urgent message for you.”

  “I guess sleep will have to wait, Roland. Did they give names?”

  “One with a slight Gildan accent said to tell you that your old prisoner has returned.” Roland frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “Mezar is what it means.” Darius hurried down the hall toward the reception room. “The prince and second in line to the throne of Gildan.”

  “Oh!” was all Roland said, obviously taken by surprise.

  Darius entered the room and saw a group of men dressed as Roland had explained. They did look either like thieves or mercenaries. A pretty girl stood next to them with short dark hair and dark eyes. Her lips turned upward in a warm smile as he walked into the room.

  “Darius,” she said. Roland’s brow furrowed.

  “My King” she added.

  “Leandra, good to see you again. You look well. And I see you brought some friends with you.”

  Mezar stepped out from behind the larger men; his muscular but slender body was much smaller. His black hair was down around his shoulders, unlike the ponytail he had worn as Darius’s prisoner earlier in the year.

  Darius ran to his prisoner-turned-friend and gave him a hug. “What are you doing here? We were planning to be in Gildan next month.”

  Mezar smiled at seeing his friend, but then returned to his grave look. “There are troubles in Gildan.”

  “I have heard of troops on the border. What is the meaning of that, Mezar? I thought you were going to take care of things in Gildan.”

  Mezar cringed. “That is a long story. First, is Christine here with you?”

  Darius grew solemn and gathered his emotions before speaking. “No, Mezar, she has been abducted by the Kingdom of Arc, but we don’t have any clues and cannot find out any information about her. My guards are combing the area again.”

  “I thought to get here in time,” Mezar groaned.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Can we meet in private, please?” Mezar asked.

  Darius had a dire impression overtake him. What did Mezar know about his wife? Was she still alive? Every time he thought of her, he was almost taken to his knees in grief and pain. Thoughts of her running in the rain with him in the forest around Anikari and finding their Field of Diamonds. Thoughts of seeing her pleasure when he gave her Lightning. Thoughts of her kissing him for the first time and running his fingers through her soft, golden hair. Pain when he remembered their year apart and what it had almost cost both of them.

  With an aching heart, putting his grief into a small corner of his mind, he nodded to Roland to clear the room. After everyone had left, the two young men sat on stuffed, high-backed chairs. They were centered around a fireplace glowing with a small fire. The late autumn chill had begun to set in this close to the mountains.

  Darius motioned to offer Mezar a drink. Mezar shook his head.

  “My Lord, my friend,” the prince of Gildan began. “Gildan has taken your wife.”

  Darius was struck with a blow he had not anticipated. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, forcing the tears away for the hundredth time in the past week.

  “How? Why?” the young King tried to say.

  “When I say Gildan, I really mean my father, the general of our armies and heir to the throne of Gildan. He is slowly poisoning his father, the Emperor, and he has abducted your wife as well.”

  “But why, Mezar? What does he hope to accomplish?” Darius raised his voice louder and in anger. “And why didn’t you know about this or warn me earlier?” Darius glared at Mezar. Maybe he wasn’t what he pretended to be. Maybe he wasn’t a friend. A powerful young wizard in his own right, maybe he had tricked Darius.

  Mezar leaned forward to the edge of his chair. “You must believe me, Darius. I had nothing to do with this. My father tried to kill me, and I barely escaped. He is mad with desire for power. He intends to take over the empire and the Realm.”

  Darius stood in fury. “Why does everyone want the Realm? My realm? Her people are not for sale or to be captured. If Arc, Gildan, the Preacher, or any other group or kingdom try to take her, they will face serious consequences.” Bright light erupted from his hand and smashed a table into pieces. A wind wiped around the room, blowing out the fire and darkening the area where they sat. “I may be a young King, but I can be a dangerous one!”

  Mezar jumped out of his seat. Darius turned on him. His eyes were unfocused, and he sent forth a bolt of fire. In his mad grief, Darius lashed out at anyone and everything in the room. Mezar pushed the incoming fire away from him with a bout of air.

  “Darius. Listen to me!” he yelled.

  Darius stood, chest heaving with exertion, fuming at Mezar, and thinking of his next move.

  “I can help you find your wife. I know my father’s places and his people,” Mezar pleaded.

  “My wife!” Darius’s eyes cleared, and he came out of his rage, realizing what he had done. He groaned and sunk back into the cushioned chair. Tears came unbidden and uncontrolled to his eyes, running in streams down his haggard face.

  The door to the room opened with a soft creak, and Roland stuck his head in.

  “Your King needs to rest,” was all Mezar said.

  Roland nodded, went to a corner, and found a rough blanket. He put it tenderly over his weeping King.

  Mezar and Roland slowly backed out of the room. They were about to close the door when Darius whispered Mezar’s name.

  “Mezar. I am sorry. Forgive me.”

  “Always, my friend.” Mezar smiled. “Now get some rest. We’ll talk again later.” He closed the door softly.

  Darius, alone with his grief and pain, tried to think of solutions, but his thoughts drifted aimlessly, and in a matter of moments, he fell asleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  RAPP

  Rapp moved deep into the Guild of Thieves’ territory. Even though they tried to influence the entire city, there were places that were solely under their control. The governor’s Merchants’ Guild had been growing in strength, and the Thieves’ Guild was having a harder time finding corrupt people to deal with.

  Luckily for him, once again most people tended to ignore a small-looking boy wandering around. He had left his hair messy, which wasn’t much different from his normal style, and his clothes were ragged and torn. Though educated in the governor’s household, he could without much thought revert back to the language of the slums.

  Begging for pieces of bread earned him a hard glare from a guild guard, so he moved on. He had been searching for the last week for the mysterious Berlain that Kelln wanted to find for Alessandra, the same woman whose father tried to kill them the prior week. He didn’t always understand why nobles or government officials did what they did, but he was up for the challenge.

  Bits and snippets of information he had gleaned were starting to come together. There indeed had been a lady named Berlain who’d been born in Mar but had left to Belor as the wife of the man now known as Mr. El’Lan or the Preacher. At one point, she had left him and their young daughter to return to Mar for reasons unexplained. Rapp, having met the Preacher a few times firsthand, could surmise why she left. He did not seem like a very nice person.

  “Hey, get out of my way, boy,” a man yelled at Rapp as he exited the back door of an old building. Rapp feigned to move away, but as he did so, he stuck a small piece of wood between the door and the frame, stopping it from closing all the way and locking.

  Once the man disappeared around a corner, no longer concerned with the apparent street urchin, Rapp opened the door, removed the wood, and let himself in to a large dark room. Lights in the distance down a hallway sent eerie shadows along the walls. He wound his way carefully down the hallway until he heard voices. Trying the knob to a door, he slipped inside another room. It was full
of boxes of parchment and scrolls, labeled by year and month. A small dirty window in the room gave enough light for Rapp to read. The find was astounding.

  Rapp had found records and proof of the guild’s dealings for years. This would be invaluable to the governor to legally shut down the Guild of Thieves for good, but he closed the lid and moved back to listen at the door. The records were not why he was there that day.

  The voices receded, and Rapp went out into the hallway again. The halls and doors began to be cleaner and nicer. He rounded a corner and found himself entering the back of the kitchen. His stomach growled just to be around the potential meal. A growing boy, he had a hard time not constantly being hungry. Peeking around the room, he stepped out and reached for an apple sitting in a bowl.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” An older lady in an apron came around a corner and caught Rapp red-handed. “How did you get in here anyway?”

  A quick solution raced through Rapp’s mind, and he put on his childish slum accent. “Just one of the runners, ma’am.” The Guild of Thieves had young boys run errands like any other guild.

  The woman relaxed. “Well, if you don’t have anything else to do but to grab some fruit, why don’t you run an errand for me? The guildmaster is meeting with some men, and they are hungry. You can help me bring them the food.”

  Rapp couldn’t believe his luck. Of course, he hoped the guildmaster or any of the men he was meeting with wouldn't recognize him.

  “Can I clean up a bit first?” he asked.

  The woman smiled. “Want to make a good impression on the old man, huh?”

  “Yeah. I want him to notice me. I wanna work for him as a thief someday.” Rapp put on his best smile to cover his lies.

  The cook laughed. “Well, you better do better than trying to steal some apples from under my nose. Go wash up. There is a room at the side of the kitchen with some decent clothes.”

  Rapp took a few minutes to clean his face and change clothes. Now he looked more like a young servant. Servants were ignored almost as much as street urchins. He took the platter of food from the cook and headed down the hall. Not knowing where to go, he followed some faint voices until he came to a partially opened doorway.

  His contacts had told him that the guildmaster’s headquarters were here. It was said that the man used to have a daughter named Berlain. Rapp was hoping it was the same Berlain that the ambassador had asked him to find.

  He glimpsed inside and tried to keep from being seen. A lady stood with her back to him, middle-aged and dressed in fashionable attire. She blocked the face of the man who sat in a chair in front of her.

  “Father, you wanted to see me?” the lady said.

  “A dangerous man is here in town. I think you need to leave and go into hiding again.”

  “We have been through this before. I am done hiding. I have a right to be your heir and to earn respect in the trade before you die.”

  “You realize I have protected you all these years. You will take my place, hopefully still a long way off, though.” The man chuckled and then started coughing in violent bursts.

  “What is the danger?” the lady said.

  “Your ex-husband has been asking around about you, Berlain.”

  Rapp watched the woman move over to the man. His nerves almost made him drop his tray. It was the Guild of Thieves’ guildmaster himself, and by their conversation, he spoke to his daughter.

  “What is he doing here?”

  “From what I have heard, his plans in Belor didn’t work out, and now he comes to sow discontent in Mar. He was never one to leave trouble alone.” The guildmaster raised his voice. “He is trying to form his own guild by amassing the smaller ones. He is ruthless and has hidden agendas.”

  “I am not afraid of him anymore, Father.”

  The man smoothed the wrinkles out of his pants and then looked back up, as if trying to think of what to say. “His daughter is here with him.”

  “His daughter?” The woman turned to the side, and Rapp recognized someone who had aged well. She still wore her dark hair down, though most likely dyed to keep the gray out, yet her face was marred only by a few wrinkles. She looked familiar. “You mean our daughter?”

  “You gave her up when you left him,” the guildmaster said cruelly.

  Berlain gasped. “I left her with her father. That was the best for her at the time.”

  “I have spoken to her, but she did not know who I was.”

  Berlain gasped and fell into a nearby chair. “You did not tell her where I was, did you?”

  “No. No. I pretended I had heard your name long ago. It seems she and her father have come to some kind of agreement. She will try and steer the ambassador and governor away from the guilds if she is able to meet you.”

  “She wants to meet me . . . after all these years?” Berlain spoke to herself then went into silent thought for a moment. . “Did she look well?”

  “Berlain, you cannot be thinking of meeting her.” The guildmaster’s voice boomed. “You must leave as I told you to.”

  “Maybe just once.” Berlain paused. “It would be nice to get the attention of the ambassador and the governor away from us.”

  The guildmaster sat in silence. Rapp took the opportunity to walk into the room as if he hadn’t been standing there listening. The old man motioned for Rapp to put the food on a table in front of his chair. As Rapp had thought, the man didn’t pay much attention to him.

  He glanced at the woman, memorizing her features, a plan forming in his mind. He needed to get back to Kelln. Voices behind him indicated more people arriving. Berlain stood up as if to go.

  “We will talk later, Berlain,” the guildmaster said to his daughter.

  Rapp looked over his shoulder for a moment, then turned back to his task. One of the men entering the room had been the one trying to talk to the ambassador when Rapp had first intervened with Tali at the dress stall in the market. He didn’t know if the man would recognize him or not.

  Quickly, he finished setting out the food then backed away toward the door, trying to keep his face hidden. Just as he was to the door, the old man called for him.

  “Boy, bring us some wine.”

  Rapp glanced up at them out of habit. “Yes, sir.”

  The other men looked at him and continued seating themselves. Then the man he had recognized whipped his head around. “I have seen you before.”

  Rapp shook his head. His heart pounded. He would have a hard time outrunning these men without a diversion. He was thick in the Guild of Thieves’ headquarters. He would be lucky to get out alive.

  “Your mop of hair.” The man appeared deep in thought, as if trying to remember. All of a sudden, his eyes cleared. “The ambassador.”

  That was all it took for Rapp to decide it was time to leave. He threw the empty platter of dishes and food, causing a moment of chaos. He turned, slammed the door shut, and ran down the hall, the same way he had come from the kitchen. He only had a few seconds’ head start.

  He ran through the kitchen, the cook trying to stop him, but he sped past, zig-zagging through the halls to the back door. Multiple sets of feet pursued him close behind.

  Opening the door to the outside, he continued running. Just as the men came out of the building, he ran into the back of another one. Not knowing where he was, he almost fell into a pool of water. It was a bathhouse. And not just any bathhouse, but a women’s one. His eyes opened wide as women stood and sat around two pools of water. He looked down quickly, cheeks turning red, and ran as quick as he could through the room. He heard loud laughter behind him.

  Running out to the front room, he found clothes hanging on a peg. He grabbed a robe and slipped it on, pulling a hood around his head. He sat in a chair and turned it toward the wall. He hoped his crude disguise would work. The men raced into the room. All they found was a young woman sitting in a corner with a hood and robe.

  “Did you see a boy run through here?” one of the men asked.

 
Rapp, in his best girl voice, said, “No.”

  He could feel the man’s eyes on the back of his head and heard him take a few steps toward him.

  “You men are not allowed in here,” a woman said, coming into the room. “Get out.”

  The men tried to tell her what they were looking for, but the woman took no excuses. They were shooed out without any further explanation.

  Rapp breathed in a deep breath of air.

  The woman came over to Rapp and turned him around. Hands on her hips she frowned at him. “Now what are you doing here? Not sneaking in to see the girls are you?”

  Rapp blushed profusely. Gross! He didn’t want to see any naked women. “No, ma’am.”

  He didn’t know if the woman believed him, but she scolded him, took off the robe he had been using, and shooed him out. By then, the men had gone farther down the street, and Rapp was able to slip off in the other direction.

  An hour later, he informed Kelln he had in fact found Berlain and that she was the Guild of Thieves’ guildmaster’s daughter. Kelln couldn’t believe it.

  Kelln told Rapp he had a plan to get Alessandra to see her mother, but it would require keeping the guildmaster himself busy at the time so as not to interfere. They also needed to keep the Preacher away from his daughter for a time.

  They decided to meet that night with Tali and her father and discuss the plans.

  * * *

  Christine tried to eat, but she had no appetite. She was bloated and sick every morning now. Her clothes were already becoming tighter on her. Finally, the general had called in a doctor to examine her. He couldn’t very well negotiate with a dead or sickly queen.

  The doctor was a lady, which was unusual for Christine. In the Realm, all doctors were men. Christine watched her walk into the room. She seemed to be her mother’s age, but the eyes said she was older. A thin-boned woman, she was shorter than Christine with graying dark hair and a light brown face. She greeted Christine with a smile.

  “Oh my. Aren’t you a lovely girl?” the woman said in the language of the Realm but with a slight accent. “The general said I needed to see you. Something about not eating properly and getting sick. Your face is pale. Come and sit down on this chair next to me.”