by Mike Shelton
“Push yourself, Darius. Come on now. Don't take your eyes away. Concentrate. That's good. Don't look down.”
Darius gazed across at his present opponent, the man who had become his sword master since coming to the training camp. Cray Dreydon was about three inches shorter than Darius, but fifty pounds of well-toned muscle heavier. His short gray hair and dark-skinned face made him seem a bit younger than rumor said he was. Someone had told Darius that Cray was sixty years old. By looking at his stocky build, one would never have believed him to be one of the best swordsmen in the Realm. Neither his size nor age hindered his movements. He was as quick as a jackrabbit fleeing into his hole from a fox.
Sweat poured down Darius’s face, slightly blurring his vision. This high in the mountains the autumn air was cool in his lungs. To become a team commander, this was the last test to endure. He had become a virtual master of the sword since coming to the Elite camp in the Superstition Mountains. He felt the power rise up in him again. It seemed to happen more often now, and it felt more familiar. Each night he practiced trying to recognize it and control it. It was hard not having anyone to show him what to do.
Darius pushed the power back down at the moment. He wanted to win this test on his own abilities. He didn’t trust his newfound powers yet, but he trusted himself. Anyway, the sword on its own still maintained a type of link to Darius even when his power wasn’t active. He needed to keep it from shining too brightly. The few times he hadn’t controlled the brightness had brought too much talk and rumors around the camp.
The two stood up on the wall, as it was called, consisting of a wooden bridge built between two trees. It spanned forty feet in length and hung suspended twenty feet in the air. It was only two feet wide, which didn't leave much room to maneuver around an opponent. You had to attack him straight on.
Just a few more minutes. I have to hold on for a few more strokes.
Darius knew he needed to concentrate. Most of the group that had come up into the mountains with him stood twenty feet below, watching and cheering, though he wondered briefly whom they cheered for. His dedication to his skills had brought grudging respect, but he had not taken much time to develop friendships.
The adrenaline pushed through his veins as he sliced forward with his gold sword, reflecting orange in the setting sun. He felt proud for being the first to make it this far. He had to last only a few more minutes without falling in order to complete this final test.
His arms and legs ached, almost cramping from the tenseness. He should be more relaxed, but it was hard while facing Cray. He lunged forward as he glimpsed an open spot. To his surprise, it caught Cray off balance. Of course, the end of his sword was dulled with a wrapping of burlap, so no one would be hurt. Darius became one with his training as he lunged forward again into Cray’s right side.
Cray’s foot slipped and he began to fall off the high-strung bridge. Darius gasped and slowed for a moment as Cray hung on with one hand. Men on the ground stood below, ready to catch him if needed. Darius looked at him hanging there in the air. The crowd grew silent.
He didn't know what he was supposed to do. Cray had taught him to always continue the fight until it was over, but this was his teacher. He reached down to help him up, and Cray used his sword as a hatchet to smack it across Darius’s left foot, making Darius stumble and almost slip himself. He peeked down into Cray’s eyes. The sparkle in them made them look as if they were enjoying a private joke. Darius decided there would be no second chances, and he kicked off Cray’s hands with his boots and watched him fall through the air.
He stood breathless for a moment, watching the man tumble in silence towards a group of men ready to catch him. Time stood still as he argued within himself over and over about what he should have done.
Some of the men threw pointed dirty looks at Darius, but silence continued for a moment as the crowd waited for Cray's reaction. The old swordsman had never been thrown from the wall before, at least not that any of them had heard. They watched and Darius watched. Cray took his time standing back up. Darius’s heart was beating hard, from a combination of his ordeal along with the guilt of what he had done. Cray wasn’t a bad person. He was not the enemy. He was a hard trainer, but he always treated Darius fairly.
Cray looked around at the crowd and then up at Darius. “Behold your new team commander.”
The crowd applauded and cheered.
Darius held up his hands in the air and soaked up the cheers. It sounded good. The roar of the crowd was addicting. Once he had made the decision to do his best, he had thrown all his energy into his training, and now it had paid off.
King Edward through his trainers, had now chosen him, Darius San Williams, to be the first team commander in the King’s Elite Army. He had pushed himself, proving to everyone that no one would get the best of him. Now he would be always honored for being the first.
He looked down into the faces of the men he had come up into the mountains with. Some he had known before; most he had not. After letting his power slip into his sword a few times in camp, there had been whispered talk and remembrances of when his sword had glowed in the castle the day they all were chosen. Some, because of his age, thought he was only there because he was the privileged son of a councilor. Some feared his abilities. But more and more some were allying themselves with him out of respect for his accomplishments and drive.
His mind returned to the present and he looked down again at the still-cheering crowd. He had shown them what he could do. He had shown them who was in control. But this would be just the beginning. Soon I will be ready to protect the Realm with an army behind me!
Darius slowed his descent so as not to show the soreness in his legs and arms, and he climbed down the tree ladder. Cray continued speaking for a few moments. Cray would never miss an opportunity to teach something.
He had probably talked to Cray more than anyone else in the time he had been in the mountains. They had had some good talks about traveling the Realm. Cray had been everywhere, but he never seemed to answer why. He walked with a slight limp that was almost unnoticeable to someone not paying attention. Darius didn't see anyone pushing him around. This was not due to his physical size, but to his sense of being. Others seemed to walk in respect around the man. Someone had heard that he had been a general at a young age in King Charles’s army.
“Darius has been the first, but I hope not the last. The King has great plans for all of you. Many of you should be able to take a command position on a permanent basis before we leave from here. What you saw today was some of the finest swordsmanship I have ever witnessed. Each of you should become as good.” He paused as he peered into each of their eyes. “But don't think I will fall as easily the next time. There has only been one other with as much skill. He too was a man of extraordinary talent . . .” He paused a moment, as if remembering. “Anyway . . . I expect a number of you to challenge me soon.”
Darius came down to stand next to Cray and shake his hand.
“An awards ceremony will be held three nights from now,” Cray announced, and he walked away. The others came around to Darius to congratulate him. At first his shoulders tensed with the attention, but eventually he relaxed and accepted the glory and accolades.
The ceremony boosted his pride even more. He was rewarded the first junior team command of a group of twenty-five other young men. He looked down at them, sitting on the ground, from where he stood behind the fire. Darius released a little of his power outwardly. Sometimes his power needed release. It was just enough to give an additional glow around him, but not enough that they wouldn’t rationalize it away as a trick of the firelight. It held their attention for a few heartbeats and solidified their acceptance of him as their commander.
Darius glanced behind the group. Cray stood against a tree, arms folded. It was hard to make out his facial expression in the dark, but Darius saw him shake his head and walk off. Darius let go of the power.
After the ceremony ended and most of th
e men had gone back to their duties, Darius sat next to the cooling embers of the fire, thinking by himself about what he would do next. His breath floated out with a white mist in the cool mountain air. He put a few more logs on the fire and sat back down. He turned his head at a sound and noticed a mountain pine with giggles coming from behind its large branches. Two young women were talking and looking towards him. When they got his attention, they came out from behind the tree and approached him.
“Hi, Darius,” said one of the girls with a cute, flirty smile. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Darius looked down and shifted himself on the log he sat on. He always felt shy around women. There were about ten girls in the camp to help cook and sew and clean clothing.
“My name is Leandra Roux,” said the second. She stood closer to him than he was comfortable with.
Darius repeated the hello unenthusiastically, then added, “How do you know me?” That sounded unintelligent!
“Oh, everyone knows you,” laughed the first girl. She was too full of giggles for Darius. She wasn’t much older than fifteen or sixteen, and with her dull brown hair set in curls, she seemed even younger. She wore a plain apron with her hair pulled back. He guessed she worked in the kitchens.
“Everyone in camp talks about you,” continued Leandra as she sat down next to him on a neighboring log, her leg touching his. Turning back to the other girl, she motioned for her to leave. “You need to get back and finish your chores, Cynthia.”
“Yes, Leandra.” Cynthia’s smile turned down into a pout.
Leandra glared at her and Cynthia scuttled away.
The fire popped and crackled, sending a few sparks into the air. The evening was starless, with a blanket of clouds and mist settling over the mountains. Leandra shivered in the cool air. Darius shifted with discomfort, but he offered her his new officer’s jacket. She draped it over her shoulders, her short brown hair laying slightly over the collar, her neck looking smooth and supple. She looked right at him, into his eyes.
Her large, almost-round eyes were brown, soft, and inviting. They were the highlight of her fair face. He turned away, then slowly looked back. She was still staring right at him, and now she added a devious smile to her lips. He noticed the dimples for the first time.
“You are an incredibly handsome man, Darius.” She moved even closer to him. Her body was warm and radiated a slight hint of lilac. “I have been watching you since you arrived.”
Darius was sweating with nervousness, but also shaking with excitement. Her eyes penetrated into him, while her perfumed scent swept the night air around him. She was very beautiful and kept herself in shape. She dressed in a bright-colored bodice that was indicative of the city of Mar. It fit over a long silk blouse. A skirt of geometric patterns accented her obvious femininity, riding a little higher in length than was proper in the capital city.
“You . . . don't really know me,” said Darius, trying to regain his composure. He was not used to being handled quite this way. He hoped none of the other men had observed how he was acting. Not very commander-like or manly. Why me? Why do I get so nervous? Kelln had always been more comfortable around girls.
“I saw the way you knocked old Cray down a few days ago. I watch the way others walk around you. You are a noble and brave man; a warrior.”
Darius laughed a little, as if trying to thin the emotion. “I am not even twenty yet, Leandra. Hardly a warrior. And Cray is an old man.”
“Age does not matter in bravery or command. All it takes is a certain type of man. I can tell that the King picked the right man in you.” She smiled at him and he once again became all flustered. “You will be the first commander. You will always be the first, no matter when others gain a command. You will run the King’s Elite Army, Darius. You will go down in history for this. A new breed of warrior.”
Darius thought for a moment about what she was saying. He surmised that she was trying to flatter him for her own reasons. Yet she was right. He had gained the first command. Anger built for a moment as he tried to figure out if he was indeed in charge, or if the political machine of the Realm had manipulated him again. He felt his power well up inside him. It always happened in response to his anger. He thought about how much he still disliked the King and his father for sending him here without any notice or choice in the matter.
Darius laughed.
“What is so amusing, Darius?”
“Oh, nothing,” he smiled. He thought about how he would eventually confront the King as full commander of his Elite Army and with his magical powers developed. Then there would be a reckoning.
“Darius,” smiled Leandra, “you must find something humorous.”
Darius stood up. “You are right, Leandra. I will be commander of the greatest army the King will ever have. If he only understood what that meant, he may regret bringing me here.”
Leandra gave him a strange look. He didn’t care. She didn’t understand all of this. She was a pretty girl who was lonely. She stood up next to him and reached for his hands. She was taller than he had first thought. He felt a tingling sensation inside of him that he hadn't experienced since Christine . . .
Christine! He had missed her so much in the beginning. Training, however, had been grueling and exhausting, and soon he had found himself thinking about her less and less. Not that he didn’t want to think about her, but the pain was still too much. He had boxed up his feelings for her and hidden them away deep in his heart and soul. Now, once again, he felt an ache grow in his heart. He pushed it back down, deep down, and sealed it with his power.
He didn't know when he would be back to Anikari, or how things would turn out when he did. With the power getting stronger in him, he may have to go somewhere else to learn to control it better. She would be better off without him, he justified. It hurt him to think it. He still cared for her, and even loved her, but being around someone with his growing abilities might be too dangerous for her.
Darius turned and glanced at Leandra again. She leaned into him, stood up on her tip toes, and offered him a soft kiss. Darius hung there for a moment, suspended in time. Thoughts of Christine tried to break through the power he had sealed them under. He cleared his mind once again and with an abrupt move pulled away. It was hard. She smelled like lilac and her kiss made him tingle.
A few cabins away a voice called for Leandra. She gave him another small kiss, said good-bye, and ran off towards an older woman’s voice calling her in. Darius stood for a moment, watching her exquisite silhouette grow smaller against the cabin’s small candlelight until she faded into the misty darkness. He felt confused. He didn't even know this girl. She surely didn't know him, except for who he was here. Darius knew there was more to him than what she saw. Or was that who he was now? Just a commander in the King’s army? Is this what life had in store for him now?
Darius turned and walked back towards his cabin, noticing but ignoring Cray standing behind the corner of the firewood pile with a disapproving look on his face.
The next day Cray lectured him on fooling around with the girls. He reminded Darius there was no time for extra activities.
“King Edward will be wanting this group ready soon, Darius, and you still have much to learn. You may be good at the sword and the bow, but now you must learn how to use your mind to survive.”
“What do you mean?”
“This army is expected to be small and nimble. To go places where other larger armies cannot. Later in the winter you will be sent into the mountains alone, without weapons or food. You will be allowed to carry one small knife and enough water for one day. You will be dropped off days away from here and required to find your way back . . . alive.”
Darius didn't like the way he emphasized the last word. It made him shiver in the morning air.
Cray moved to take Darius’s sword, but a strong hand stopped him.
“What are you doing?” Darius's mouth tightened.
“Set your sword down. We have other things to learn
today.”
Darius put his hand on the pommel of the sword. “It’s fine where it is.”
Cray turned his head to one side and shrugged his shoulders. “Seems hard for you to put that thing down.”
“It’s comforting to me,” Darius said with a smile.
Cray laughed out loud. “Well, better a sword than a girl I guess.”
Darius joined in the laughter, and soon Cray proceeded to teach him about various plants that might help him survive. Many of the things that Cray taught Darius he had already learned in school, yet Cray seemed determined to teach him again. He was nothing if not thorough. With patience each day Cray led him around the camp this way, asking questions and awaiting answers.
One day after a small argument on the edibility of a particular thorny plant, Darius strutted off with a pout. After a dozen feet, Darius turned around. Cray followed him with his eyes.
“Cray, it looks like you have seen a ghost.”
“Something from a long time ago. The way you turn and move looks so familiar, like someone I once knew. He was a little older than you when I last saw him.”
“A friend?”
“Yes, one of my closest friends.”
“What happened?” Darius moved closer. It was rare to get Cray to open up about his past.
“We used to practice sword fighting together.” Cray rubbed his stubbled chin and looked thoughtful. “He also possessed other special gifts that were just beginning to develop.”
Cray had not answered his question about what had happened. “What special gifts?”
Cray lifted his greying eyebrows over his dark eyes and gave him a look that made Darius look down.
When Darius looked up again he steeled his face. “Let’s get back to the plants, Cray.”
Before Darius knew what was happening, Cray picked up a large rock and threw it in a straight line at Darius. With instinct taking over, Darius threw up his hands and let his power deflect the rock. He sent out a thrust of air that pushed the rock back to the ground between the two of them.
