by Mike Shelton
He dove under the bush, reaching for the attacker's legs. He grabbed onto his shin and pulled the attacker down into the bushes. He heard a yelp and, from the corner of his eyes, saw Leandra fall and scramble away.
“Run, Leandra!” Darius commanded. A second body jumped onto him from behind before he could get up and pull out his sword. He bucked his legs to throw this second assailant over him and into the bush. He didn't quite make it, but was successful enough to get up off of the ground, only to see the first man starting to run after Leandra. She started to run towards the lake and would soon be trapped between the water and the painted man. He wondered if she knew how to swim. Maybe the stranger did also. Of course, even a few minutes in the near-freezing water could cause problems.
Darius sprinted towards her as he searched the ground for something to throw. He spotted a thick stick and scooped it up without breaking his stride. The second man was gaining on him, but Darius didn't dare break his concentration.
Darius realized he wouldn't be able to reach Leandra in time, so he skidded to a sudden stop and drew upon his growing powers. The back of the man’s head seemed to grow in his vision, as his bow targets always had. He threw the stick with ferocious speed, end over end towards the attacker. As soon as he did so, he dropped to the ground just in time for the second man, who thought he had Darius, to fall over him. When the man stood up Darius pushed his right hand towards the second attacker, knocking him back with a hard push of air. Darius reached over to grab the wild-looking man, but the man's head had hit a rock and he wasn't moving.
Leandra yelled, a high-pitched scream splitting the air.
Darius turned his attention back to her. His earlier stick-throw had hit the mark and knocked the first man down, but he was starting to get up again. Darius covered the distance with inhuman speed. Pulling out his sword, he brought it above his head and was about to slice the man when he heard a voice emerging from the trees.
“Darius, stop!” A deep, gruff voice echoed through the valley.
Barely controlling his sword arm from running through the man, he turned just in time to only scrape the man’s shoulder. It was still painful, and the man howled out in anguish. Ready for another fight, Darius turned towards the voice.
Cray stood beside a tree, arms folded. Anger and pleasure crossed over his face at almost the same time. Leandra came and grabbed hold of Darius’s arm, almost sobbing with fright. She was shaking, and he felt the need to comfort the poor girl. Marks of tears spread down on her unblemished face.
“You did well, Darius,” said Cray as he started to approach. “Better than I would have expected. Much better.”
Darius breathing hard and feeling bewildered asked, “What are you talking about? They tried to attack us.”
“I sent them, Darius. They are part of your test.”
“What!” yelled Darius becoming furious, “Who do you think you are? Don't I have any privacy?”
“You must learn to defend yourself in any type of situation. You actually did do quite well,” he said to Darius as he motioned for the other two men to join him.
The first man, whom Darius had knocked down with the flying stick, had been trying to help the other man up. The second man had a large gash on his head and shoulder and barely stood without fainting. They did not look well.
“I am sure my two friends here wished you weren't so good.” Cray motioned to the two attackers.
Darius started to bring his hand up towards Cray in anger. The power began boiling in him. It needed a release. He did not like getting tricked. The power made him want to lash out.
“Darius.” Cray’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. “Make sure you know who your friends and enemies are. You do not want to make enemies out of friends.”
“And who are you, Cray . . . friend or enemy?”
“It depends on whose side you’re on, doesn't it?” Cray mocked with a crooked half-smile.
“My friends don't attack me!” Darius shook with rage. Who are my friends? Do I have anyone I can trust anymore?
Darius wanted to be alone, but he felt the need to make sure Leandra was all right. This was not her doing. He grabbed her hand and with large steps walked back towards the camp.
“Sometimes friends must attack to make you stronger,” yelled Cray after the young commander. “Far worse are enemies who hide and deceive until it is too late. Sometimes the enemy is even within.”
Darius turned back around so quickly Leandra lost her footing and would have fallen if Darius hadn’t caught her with his arm.
Cray turned and helped his two men back to the camp. They would both need medical attention.
Leandra walked beside Darius, shaking and afraid. Darius wondered how much she had seen and what she was thinking.
“Thank you for protecting me, Darius. You’re very brave.” She snuggled up closer to him.
Darius stopped and wondered if he should try to explain anything. His physical body was exhausted and drained. All he wanted was sleep. Leandra must be tired too, and he was not in the mood for any explanations or for any romance.
“I will walk you to your cabin. You need to rest,” said Darius with exhaustion apparent in his voice. “I will talk to you later.”
Standing at the large cabin that housed all the female staff, Leandra rose up slightly on her toes and kissed Darius again on his check. It was soft and warm and lingered as if wanting more. He wished it was Christine. He could use her support right now. She would understand him. He sighed deeply.
Darius wanted to say something more, but his mind was too tired. Instead he gave a short nod. “My lady, I hope you were not hurt. I’m sorry that you didn’t get the walk that you wanted.”
Leandra smiled back and reluctantly removed her hand from his and walked into her cabin. “You are definitely exciting to be around, Commander. I look forward to our next walk, hopefully in less strenuous circumstances.”
Darius just nodded. He wouldn’t mind another walk. It had been nice at first. He smiled slightly, remembering the water that she had thrown in his face.
Within five minutes, Darius found himself back in his own cabin. Everyone else was out training still. Every time his power surged and was used he felt tired. He lay back on his bed and thought about what had happened. Before long, he fell asleep.
Chapter Eighteen
THE EMPIRE OF GILDAN
Mezar sat in the ante-chamber of the lavish palace, high on the hill overlooking Gildan, the capital and royal city of the Gildanian Empire. The young man had been made an officer in Emperor Alrishitar’s army just six months earlier. His father, the general, currently met on the other side of the door with the Emperor himself. They were deciding on Mezar’s first mission.
The young man stood and smoothed down his red uniform, shifting his silver sword to lay in a more comfortable manner on his hip. An arched window stood opposite him, and he made his way over to the opening. He opened the glass casement and let a slight breeze blow across his brown skin and ruffle his shoulder-length dark black hair. With a young-looking face, and only of average build, he looked older with his hair down, although it was not in keeping with the current fashions of tying it back.
The sun spread its morning rays through the late autumn air, sending sparkling reflections onto the domed white rooftops. Mezar had lived in Gildan his entire life. He knew the city well and loved his homeland. Gildan was clean, secure, and beautiful, unlike some of the other cities in neighboring kingdoms. His dark eyebrows furrowed over his slightly tilted eyes at the thought that at least that was what he had been told in class. He was somewhat sheltered in his young life, and as yet had not been allowed to travel outside the empire, and hardly into the other provinces of his own kingdom. He knew it was for his protection due to his family line, but he still wished to see more for himself.
A serving girl walked through the room, with a tray of breads and meats from the kitchen being taken to some noble somewhere in the palatial complex. Mezar
smiled at the girl and she began to curtsy. As she did so, the tray slipped from her hands. Mezar, with a graceful, unmatched speed, caught the tray within inches from leaving her hands, steadied the silver platter, and gave it back to her with another smile. The girl, all flustered now, turned red and headed out of the open chamber.
Mezar tried to remember her name, but there were too many to remember. He felt bad, but most of his time of late had been spent outside the palace at the training camp south of the city. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword and smiled. He thought about the time away. He had enjoyed it and had learned a lot. Many young men his age, if they did not have another trade to apprentice to, went into the army for a few years. With his father, the general, he didn’t have much choice in the matter, but it really was what he wanted to do anyways.
Even though the empire hadn’t fought a major war in a very long time, he did get a sense that tensions were beginning to run high with some of its closest neighbors. The King of the Realm didn’t have an heir, the Kingdom of Arc had started military drills on their borders, and the smaller United Territories to the south had shown more bickering among themselves than usual. For these reasons the Emperor had taken steps to strengthen his army in recent months.
Mezar, still standing and reminiscing when the door to the throne room opened, jumped out of his thoughts. His father marched out, lips held tight and his face red, his anger barely held in check. “Mezar, the mighty Emperor will see you now.”
Mezar’s brown eyes opened wide at the comment. The sarcastic reference to the Emperor by his father, the general, showed more than anything the obvious outcome of their meeting.
Mezar decided to say nothing, walking past the general into the larger room. Gold and silver adorned the throne room. Ancient vases, sculptures, and weapons hung around the gold-trimmed, red-painted walls with an obvious show of the empire’s wealth. He remembered coming into this room as a small child, yet even at twenty-one years old, he still felt dwarfed by its overbearing opulence.
Emperor Alrishitar, dressed in his royal red robes, sat on his golden throne, flanked by leopards made from silver. He looked almost as frustrated as his father had upon leaving the room. Mezar wasn’t sure if he wanted to meet with the Emperor or not in this current mood. He decided that protocol necessitated his greeting.
Upon approaching the throne by way of the red carpet leading to it, he stopped mid-way and bowed himself low. Keeping his waist bent and head down, he recited a royal greeting that should suffice in the present situation.
“Emperor of the Sun, brighter than the stars, your wisdom guides us in the light. May thy humbled servant enter thy presence?” The words were spoken in ancient Gildan as ceremony dictated. More modern Gildan was simpler, and though different from the languages of the Realm and the Kingdom of Arc, some newer, common words were used throughout the three western kingdoms.
Mezar heard a deep sigh emanate from the Emperor, then, “Mezar, my young boy, no need for such formality between us. Rise and come forward.”
Mezar rose, but still proceeded with caution. This was the supreme leader of all of the Gildanian Empire. His moods could be fickle, and even though peace had reigned for most of his time, his moments of rage were also legendary. Mezar cringed at the thought of seeing that rage firsthand, when as a young boy he had snuck to the back of the throne room and hidden behind the curtains. He moved his hand over his backside, still feeling the sting of the memory in his mind. He had behaved after that and won the heart of Emperor Alrishitar.
The Emperor smiled. “You no doubt saw the general’s face as he left my chambers?”
Mezar only nodded.
“Do not be alarmed. Haven’t I always told you, you were my favorite?” The Emperor chuckled to himself.
Mezar was surprised at the admission in the throne room. “Your Highness, you should not say that here.”
“And why is that, young Mezar? Are you afraid of your brother’s ghost coming to haunt you?”
“No. No.” Mezar stumbled a moment. His older brother had died of a fevered sickness the prior year. The wizards had done all they could for him, but they had suspected some kind of poison that had been beyond their powers to heal. His brother and the emperor had not seen eye to eye on things. His brother had been a lot like his father.
The Emperor stood. “Come, let’s take some refreshments in my study, where prying eyes will not overhear our conversation.”
Mezar looked around the room, wondering whom the Emperor referred to. He stepped up to the elderly monarch and held out his arm for the older man to use as support. The emperor’s mind was still bright and fresh, but his aged years had begun to catch up to him physically.
They entered the private study, and with a flash of his hand, the Emperor lit the lamps in the room. Mezar smiled at the use of the power.
The emperors of Gildan were in a long line of those who, besides accepting the monarchy, were also wizards. Emperor Alrishitar, while not one of the most powerful in recent times, was known to have a fine finesse of the powers that he did hold. Out of the powers of the heart, mind, and earth this emperor was strongest in the powers of the mind.
Mezar poured some fresh pomegranate juice for the two of them and sat down opposite his leader. The Emperor took an apple and cut it with a long knife, then sat back, and after eating a few pieces looked with intent at his young friend.
“Mezar, your father and I disagree on the course of action to take at this time. I am always wont for more caution, while your father, the general, tends to be more aggressive in his desires. I am afraid there are many who follow his lead. However, for the time being, I am still the Emperor while I am alive.”
“Your Highness, you have a long time still.” Mezar rushed to defend the sole ruler of Gildan.
The Emperor waved his hand at Mezar. “We never know how much time we have, though I agree with you. I am not yet ready to give up my throne. Don’t worry about that for now. I can rein in your father’s cronies.”
Mezar didn’t like the division he observed occurring between his father and the Emperor. Things could get dangerous for the empire, and for him personally if the army split from the throne. “Sire, what is it you would like for me to do?”
The Emperor smiled. “Now, I do temper things with caution, but I am not above stirring the pot a little and seeing how others react. We do need to know what is going on with our neighbors, and you have some unique capabilities that I would like to draw upon for your first assignment.”
The ultimate authority in the Gildanian Empire then proceeded to tell young Mezar what the plan would be. At first Mezar sat astonished, but then he smiled at the wonderful opportunity he was being given. At last he would step foot outside of the empire. Finally he would see the world around him.
Chapter Nineteen
RETURN
A month after the first visit to King Edward, Christine and Martin, the older man who had accompanied her before, left the farmlands to return to the castle to receive the answer to their petition. The younger man stayed behind because of his lack of control over his tongue in the previous meeting.
Christine wore the same dress she had previously, but this time she had a thick white cloak wrapped around her for warmth. Her fur-lined boots sunk silently into the fresh snow.
The two of them walked through the merchants’ quarter, with its brick houses lining the narrow streets. Upon entering the nobles’ district, she saw that the houses turned to stone and the roofs became sturdier. Early-morning sweepers were clearing the snow off the widening cobblestone streets. The walk to the castle took longer, but finally they climbed the large steps and gathered in line behind other petitioners.
The line extended longer this week, and as usual, no place was afforded them to sit in the large hall. After waiting for some time, a steward brought them back into the throne room. With a sweep of her eyes around the room, Christine realized Richard wasn't here today. One of the other councilors helped King Edwa
rd with the proceedings.
Once again, she stood in awe of the room as well as the entire castle. She noticed things she hadn’t noticed on her prior visit: the delicate carvings high up on the crown molding, the strange geometric designs carved in the hard floor, and the gold inlays around the opened windows. She could only dream of ever living in a place so big.
They soon found themselves at the front of the line. The King looked up from the Throne of Power and surely noticed them. She smiled at him, but he gave no outward acknowledgment he had seen her. Without any preamble, he stood up and announced to those in line that he was finished for the day.
The small crowd began to mumble at the unfairness, but the stewards began ushering them out of the room. Christine moved around two ushers to get the King’s attention before he went out of a smaller side door. She assumed the door went to his private study or rooms. Outside of the stories her father had told her, she wasn’t familiar with all of the rooms a house or castle might have.
“You promised an answer today, my King,” she said politely but with confidence. It was a boldness that had only emerged since being bonded with her Cremelino. The power that her horse shared with Christine helped her to realize that she might be able to make a difference in things. Her voice echoed off the walls. Others stopped to watch the exchange.
“I promised you nothing,” said the King. “You demanded, as I remember. You are not the only people in the kingdom who want or need my help.” He turned and continued walking to the side door.
Go ahead, Christine. You can do it. You need to try! Lightning’s voice was faint. Due to the cold, they had left her on the farm that day. But it still gladdened and emboldened her.
“You can’t ignore the situation much longer.” Her voice was amplified and echoed around the chamber.
