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Authors: Mike Shelton

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Chapter 12

PLEADING FOR HELP

 

J
ain Anderssn was trying to explain to their mother where Christine
was. Caroline couldn't believe what Jain and his friends had done to her
daughter. He argued their point, and she conceded that something had to be
done. Jain knew it upset his mother to say so, but she agreed it wouldn't hurt
to keep Christine in the barn until morning.

Emily, Jain and Christine’s younger sister, walked into the room
asking what was going on. Caroline didn't feel it fair to hide anything from
her, so she nodded to Jain to tell her what was happening.

Emily smiled and laughed nervously. “Maybe Christine will settle
down a bit now.”

“I should have stepped in earlier, but with your father gone...”
Caroline had tried to be strong for her children, but tears filled the corners
of her eyes.

Jain knew his mother missed their father horribly. They all did.
His death had brought the three of them closer, but Christine had pushed away
from them.

In the midst of their conversation, a knock came at the door.
Caroline wiped her eyes while Jain opened the door. The three of them only
stared at who was there. Jain had never seen him up close, but he knew who it
was. There was too much resemblance to Darius for him to be anyone other than
Darius’s father, Senior Councilor Richard San Williams himself.

“Councilor… uh... come in,” said Caroline as she motioned for him
to enter.

“I am sorry to bother you, but I need to talk to your daughter.”

“My daughter?” Caroline wondered if they would arrest her.

“Christine. Is she here?” Richard asked.

“No. Not right now.”

“What’s going on? Is she in trouble?” Jain jumped in. Even though
he had just tied her up, he was still ready to defend her against any city men,
especially the Senior Councilor.

“I have to talk to her. It’s very important. She’s not in trouble.
I promise I won't hurt her. I just need to talk, please.” His voice almost
cracked.

Jain stood, looking at Richard suspiciously. He was about to speak
when his mother jumped in.

“Why do you want to see her, Councilor?” Caroline glanced around
him, seeing if anyone else was outside with him.

Richard sighed deeply and looked at each of them before answering.
“It’s hard to say. I just need to ask her something.”

Jain still didn’t trust him, but he noticed that the councilor
seemed more subdued than he would have thought, given the circumstances.

“I know what she has been doing, but I promise that I just want to
talk to her. Will you take me to where she is?”

“Will you go blindfolded?” Jain asked Richard before his mother
could say anything.

“What? Don't you know who I am?” Richard straightened himself up
to his full height, “How dare you!” He couldn’t believe these farmers. He was
trying to understand them— now that he was one of them by birth. But they were
going too far.

“Then, I guess you can't see her.” Jain jutted out his chin in
defiance.

“Jain!” Caroline admonished. “If the Councilor wants to try and
help this situation, we should let him.”

“I don’t trust him. In order to prove himself, he must go
blindfolded.”

Richard took a deep breath and sighed deeply. Once again he had to
suffer for the good of the kingdom. He thought of Darius and wondered what he
would do when the boy came to Anikari. He thought of the fighting between the
city and the farmers and hoped he could get Christine to stop at least until
Darius arrived. He nodded his head slowly. “I will do as you say, young man,
but no tricks. This is a very serious situation, more than you know.

Caroline stepped forward and bowed her head to him in deference to
his position. “Thank you for coming out here, Councilor. I know it may have
been uncomfortable for you. But if there is anything you can do to help my
daughter and this whole situation, I welcome it.”

Richard smiled a genuine smile and nodded his head. “I just hope
it’s not too late.” Caroline watched Jain blindfold the councilor and then help
him onto a horse. They rode off together deeper into the farmlands.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Christine heard a horse and the voices of more people, one of
which was Jain. Her back was to the barn door, but off to the side she could
see Karel and Thomas offer an awkward bow.

“Got them bowing to you now, huh, Jain? Is that what this is all
about?” Christine almost spat the words out. She wouldn’t dignify her brother’s
appearance by turning around.

“Christine, someone is here to see you,” was all Jain said.

She heard footsteps approach her and walk around her side.

“Christine,” said a deep voice that had a tint of familiarity to
it.

Christine turned around slowly and then almost fell off the old
wooden crate that she sat on. She didn't know what to say. She thought about
the last time she had talked to Richard San Williams. She had tried to sneak
through the castle in disguise, and he had caught her. What did he want now?
Did he know it was her destroying so many carts of food? Was she going to the
castle dungeons?

“May we talk alone?” Richard turned to Jain and Thomas. “I promise
nothing will happen.”

Jain eyed him carefully, and the young men walked away to the
other side of the barn.

Christine and Richard sat in silence a few moments. Richard gazed
out toward the middle of the barn as if gathering his thoughts. Christine took
the time to look at the Councilor’s profile. She saw a resemblance to Darius in
his father and all of a sudden felt self-conscious of how she must look.
Embarrassment at what she had been doing flicked through her mind. What would
Darius have said? Suddenly she wondered if something had happened to him. Was
that why Richard had come? Nine months had passed without her hearing from him
.

Finally Richard turned back to Christine. He paused a moment
longer and then spoke, “Christine... I know you don't trust me, but you must
listen to what I have to say. It was an extremely difficult decision for me to
come to you.”

Christine furrowed her eyebrows. At least it didn’t sound like
Richard was bringing bad news about Darius. Instinctively she reached up and
smoothed her hair.

“I have come to ask you to stop the fighting,” he continued.

“You came out here to ask me that?” Christine laughed.

“Just listen. I am only asking the fighting to cease for a few
days; a truce. As you have most likely heard, there is trouble within the city.
The King...”

“Your problems are not mine.” Christine couldn't believe he was
trying to do this. “We have already been approached by others.”

“Others?” Richard seemed surprised. “Who?”

“It is no secret that the King doesn’t have an heir to the throne.
There are other groups who may treat us better than you.”

Richard looked surprised. “And you believe that?”

Christine thought a moment. “No, actually I don’t believe that any
of you will treat us better. Why do you ask me?”

“I know it is you riding around on that horse my son gave you.”

It was Christine’s turn to look surprised.

“There are not many farmers who have an expensive Cremelino.” The
councilor stood up from the crate he had been sitting on. “Listen to me,
Christine. An announcement will be made in the next few days. Please stop the
fighting until then.”

 “It must be an important announcement for you to lower yourself
to our level and to come out to the farmlands. Is it about an heir to the
throne?”

Richard looked down. Beads of sweat began to appear on his face.
“You must keep this confidential, Christine. There is much more at stake than
you or even I could believe at this moment. I am only telling you to show you
that I really want to resolve this now.”

“Who?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

“I can't say.” He did not look her in the eyes.

“What difference does a new king make? There will still be
fighting.”

“Maybe not.” Richard’s voice lowered.

“What are you saying? That the new king is a benevolent man who
loves the farmers? Or, is he going to be a farmer, perhaps?”

Richard did not smile at her sarcasm. “Will you call off the
fighting?”

“I don't know if I can. As you can see, my so-called friends and
brother have limited whatever power I had. What if we are attacked?”

“I will stop that. Will you do your part?” Richard looked her
directly in the eyes. His eyes held a pleading she had never seen before. They
reminded her of Darius so much she had to hold back a gasp.
Oh, Darius.
It
was hard to hold back the tears, but she couldn’t let the councilor see her
weaken. She bit the inside of her check to buy time to think.

What isn't Richard telling me? He is hiding something.
She projected her thoughts out to her
Cremelino.

Trust him this once, Christine.
Came the reply.
The power of the prophecy is building.
Soon you will know all!

Lightning’s reply surprised her. “Give me one good reason to stop
the fighting.”

Richard stopped pacing and looked at the ground. Then he looked
back at her. “Because my mother was from the farmlands.”

Christine’s eyes widened in disbelief, and a small laugh escaped
her chapped lips. For a moment she just watched him, looking for any sign of
deception.

“I just found out two days ago,” the Councilor said. “I didn't
know before.”

Christine was still speechless. Maybe that's why Darius had been
so nice to her, even though he didn't know about his parentage.

“I'm confused, Christine. I don't know what to do.” The
Councilor’s shoulders slumped. He looked exhausted.

She knew that had been hard for the man to admit. She would not
have expected it of him. Darius always said he was a hard man—someone who
fiercely protected the Realm, but from the seat of his castle chair.

“Will you stop the fighting?” He asked once again.

Christine’s voice came out very quiet. “I will try. But it may
take a few days. “

Richard smiled nervously. “A few days are all we have.”

Christine just nodded.

“I had better leave now.” Richard said. “Please keep this
information to yourself for a few days. It might be pivotal information in the naming
of the new king.”

She thought he meant it could start unnecessary fighting before
the naming of the King. She wondered if it was someone who had approached them
already. “Can you talk to my brother?”

He nodded and began to walk away.

“The son of a farmer, huh?” she whispered toward his back with a
smile on her lips, “Maybe there is hope for you yet.”

Richard turned and looked over his shoulder at her.

“And, Councilor, I have a secret for you.” She paused as he took a
few steps back toward her. “Something I just recently found out also. My
father’s father was from the city. We’re not so unlike each other as you had
thought.”

Richards’s eyes widened with shock. Fear, exasperation, and
surprise all crossed his face in a matter of seconds. He turned away, shoulders
slumped. “Does anyone actually know who they really are?” He muttered the words
while turning toward Jain.

 A few minutes later Jain took Richard back on his horse. Before
leaving, he had given instructions to the others to let Christine out of the
barn.

Christine sat on Lightning and watched the backs of Jain and the
Councilor in the far distance. She thought of how Darius had been pushing away
from his father’s rule before he left. He had felt forced and manipulated into
doing his father’s will, and Christine now wondered if that had just happened
to her.

Soon, my child, soon
, came the familiar voice of Lightning, y
ou will have all the
answers.
 

Giving her horse a soft loving tap, she vowed to never block the
horse out again. Lightning whinnied with delight, and they galloped off to her
home.

 

 

Chapter 13

BELOR

 

D
arius walked around Belor with Leandra and Mezar on either side of
him. Trailing a dozen yards behind was a contingent of guards, half of them
Elite soldiers and half belonging to the Preacher. He had talked the Preacher
into letting him have some of his own guards around him. Taking a tour of the
city had been Leandra’s idea, and Darius had readily agreed. He and the
Preacher had been conferencing for the past week, and Darius was intrigued with
the man on multiple levels. The man’s control of magic beckoned him strongly,
and Darius had a sudden urge to learn more about his own hidden powers. The
Preacher’s ability to stand up to the King and the rule of the Realm also
interested him.

“The domes here in Belor are similar to those at my home in
Gildan, though ours are filled with lights.” Mezar interrupted Darius’s
thoughts.

“Lights?” Darius looked at Mezar.

“Some are candles, some magic, but many of our domes reflect
different colors at night. It is beautiful.”

“Do you miss it?” asked Leandra. She had been more subdued and
quiet recently and paying more attention to Mezar than Darius.

“Ahh.” Mezar looked wistful. “I do miss certain things. Though I
am having quite the adventure here, don’t you think?” He winked at Leandra.

Darius frowned at the exchange. “You don’t act like a prisoner,
Mezar. I don’t quite understand you.”

Mezar’s eyes almost seemed to close as he smiled. “You might not
understand me yet, but we are not unlike each other.”

Darius shook his head. He really didn’t understand how Mezar,
being a prisoner, could be so content with what was going on. He was obviously
very intelligent and had been a young commander of a Gildan Battalion, but he
was still hiding something. But Darius liked the man well enough. He had not
tried to escape and had actually been friendly toward Darius.

“It’s different here than in Anikari,” Darius responded. “Angled
roofs are normal there. The nobles seem to crave stone houses, while merchants
have brick, and others out in the farmlands have smaller wooden homes.”

“And what do you like, Commander Darius?” Mezar asked.

The question gave pause to Darius. Most of his growing-up years
were had in a large stone house close to the castle. He knew that when he was
younger they lived farther out by the walls of the city in a smaller home. None
of them were overly comfortable. He wasn’t really sure what he liked.

“I like wood. It is warm and inviting and can be painted different
colors,” added Leandra.

Mezar smiled again. “I would like very much to see a home like
that. Maybe I could visit your home someday.”

Leandra blushed at Mezar’s statement. Darius thought he should
feel jealous, but for some reason he felt relief. He wondered though at Mezar’s
boldness.

“Personally, I don’t think it is the materials that make a home,
but the people in it,” Darius said in thoughtful contemplation.

Both Mezar and Leandra stopped and looked at Darius with surprised
looks.

“What? Don’t you think I can have thoughts of comfort and home? I
have not always been a commander.” Darius felt slightly perturbed at their
assuming looks.

Suddenly they came up on the backside of the palace. Spring
gardens were being tended by gardeners, and other servants were cleaning the
sides of the great smooth stone walls. Daffodils and tulips bloomed, and the
air held their fragrance. As they neared the palace once again Darius felt a
tug inside of him, pulling him toward the Preacher. Concern must have shown on
his face.

“Darius, what is wrong?” asked Leandra from the side of him.

“The Preacher.” Darius stopped and looked up toward the top of the
palace. A huge dome sat atop of three smaller domes.

“Commander.” Mezar put his hand on Darius arm. “May I speak
freely?”

Darius turned to him and nodded.

“This Preacher. His powers are not good. He has cowered and
manipulated his people. What are you doing with him?”

The question surprised Darius. “I don’t have to explain myself to
you.” He retorted.

Mezar stepped back. “I meant no affront to you, Commander.”

Darius knew he had reacted poorly. He realized that he had felt
much more relaxed walking around the city, but Mezar was right. The people were
quiet and subdued. The normal markets that should exist in a city this size
were too contrived and orderly. The Preacher definitely had a hold on the
people of Belor. Did the man have a hold on him also? “The Preacher wants to be
my ally.”

“And what do you want?” Mezar asked.

That was a question Darius had been asking himself all day. When
he was with the Preacher he felt connected to him and wanted to be around him.
He accepted the Preacher’s plight as his own. But when he was away from him,
the feeling faded. He was left to wonder what he really wanted.

The three of them entered a smaller door in the back of the
building. Apprehension filled Darius at the thought of meeting with the
Preacher again. His jaw clenched as he thought about how he was always being
manipulated to do someone else’s bidding. His father, King Edward, and now the
Preacher.

Darius fought the tug of power pulling him forward and chose to
walk at his own pace. Soon they heard a commotion around a corner and stopped
to see what it was. They stood behind a large granite column and witnessed the
Preacher’s interaction with some men.

“What is the status of my army?” asked the Preacher.

A nervous-looking man in a dark red uniform highlighted with a
yellow sash stepped forward. “Sire, as I have told you before, we do not have
an army. We have a thousand men who have been told to fight. They…”

Whatever the man was going to say next was interrupted by a flash
of power from the Preacher’s hands. A blue light surrounded the man’s neck, and
choking sounds followed. In less than a minute he dropped to the ground.

The Preacher turned to the other three men. “Anyone else want to
make excuses for why more men are not ready to fight?”

The three men looked at the ground silently. One of them, a thin,
older-looking gentleman, looked up as if to say something, but apparently
changed his mind.

“Good,” the Preacher continued. “You will have my army ready in
two days. I will join with this Darius boy and his men to finalize my hold on
Belor and then march to Anikari for formal recognition of my position.”

Behind the column, Darius stiffened at being referred to as a boy.

One of the men spoke to the Preacher. “Can we trust him, Sire? He
is one of them.”

The Preacher bellowed a loud laugh. “Leave him to me. He cannot
resist my power. He hardly even knows who he really is or what he can do.” The
Preacher turned to look toward where Darius and his friends stood.

Darius didn’t think they were seen, but an abnormal feeling washed
over him. He saw Mezar stiffen next to him and begin to back away, motioning
for Darius and Leandra to join him. Darius reluctantly followed. He would have
rather confronted the Preacher but knew it wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

Back outside, the three of them breathed the clean air. Staying
quiet until they were away from the palace once again, the three strode at a
pace to not attract attention.

They reached an empty street, and Darius stopped. “He called me a
boy!”

Mezar smiled briefly and nodded his head. “I told you he is
dangerous. You feel his power, don’t you?”

Darius nodded. “How did you know?”

“I have had training in these types of things,” Mezar said
cryptically and shrugged.

Darius wondered again who this Gildanian really was. There were
more layers and secrets in Mezar than in any man he had met.

“Darius, what are you going to do?” asked Leandra.

Darius didn’t know how to answer. He had powers that were
obviously inferior to the Preacher. He wished he knew more about them. He
wondered if there was anyone else who could help him learn.

The three continued walking around the city, back to the front of
the palace. Darius noticed more intensely the fear in people’s eyes. After
seeing the Preacher kill one of his men so carelessly he understood their
feelings. A leader should look out for his men and protect them, not make them
cower and be afraid. Thoughts of guilt ran through his mind.

“Mezar, am I a good leader?”

Mezar opened his slanted eyes wider in surprise. “Commander, you
have always treated me well.”

“I still don’t understand why,” Darius mumbled.

“You’re a wonderful commander, Darius. You are the first commander
of the King’s Elite Army,” Leandra added.

Darius looked annoyed. “I don’t need your pandering, Leandra. I
want real answers.”

Leandra cowered back toward Mezar.

Mezar continued. “I think your men support you, but somewhat
grudgingly. You are obviously a good tactician, great with the sword, and, may
I add, have powers at your disposal that others don’t.”

Darius glanced at Leandra. He didn’t know if she understood what
Mezar was saying or not. “Leandra, go and get us some bread and meat in the
market.” He pointed up the street towards the vendors.

Leandra didn’t look happy but glanced at Mezar first for
assurance. He nodded, and she left. Darius didn’t know what that look was all
about. He would find out later. Right now he had to deal with Mezar alone.

He directed his answer to Mezar. “You must not talk about other
powers I have.”

“Then you will never be a great commander,” Mezar said bluntly.

“How dare you!” Darius raised his voice.

“You asked for an answer, Commander. I gave it. You have
everything most people want. You are young, strong, skilled, and powerful, but
you hide who you are.”

Darius’s cheeks burned red, and his hands clenched. “You do not
know who I am. You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know what you could be if you focused and learned from the
right teacher. I know you feel it, Darius. You just need to learn how to
control the power and use it wisely.”

Darius opened his mouth to spit back a retort, but he took a deep
breath instead and let some of the anger go. He knew Mezar was right, but it
wasn’t that easy. He looked around, making sure they were still alone. He could
see the bright skirts of Leandra still in the marketplace.

“What you say is true, Mezar, but leaders in the Realm do not look
as kindly on wizards as they do in your kingdom. There is no one to teach me.”
He hung his head a little lower. It was the first time he had admitted to
anyone besides Kelln that he had powers. He felt guilty admitting it but also
relieved.

“Ahh,” Mezar said. “Yes. I forgot the Realm’s aversion to those
types of things. It is not so in Gildan.”

“There is no law about magic specifically as far as I know.”
Darius tried to feel hopeful. “But I have heard my father’s aversion to it
mentioned numerous times.”

“Maybe you can change your father’s mind, along with others’. Make
them see it isn’t bad or evil, but just another tool to use—for good or bad, I
suppose, but it is not evil in itself.”

Darius was going to ask Mezar what else he knew about wizarding
powers, when Leandra came back to them with a basketful of bread, meat, and
cheeses. They ate as they continued their tour around the city. Darius had a
hard time concentrating on anything he saw. His mind raced with questions and
possibilities, but not a lot of answers or solutions. He felt he was on the brink
of making a decision that could change the entire course of his life and that
of others around him. Could others accept him for who he was?  Would his father
or the King let him still lead the Elite Army if they knew he had magical
abilities? 

Darius grunted in frustration. Mezar looked over at him but didn’t
say anything else.

The three found themselves by the northern city gate when a
commotion caught their eyes. A dozen guards crowded around a man on horseback.
Darius felt for the familiar hilt of his sword but realized it wasn’t there.
The Preacher had convinced him to leave it in the castle. He ground his teeth
in frustration once again and moved toward the group.

Some of the guards scowled while others parted for Darius. Looking
up at the man on horseback, Darius saw that a large “A” covered the right
breast of his red and purple uniform. A messenger from Anikari.

Noticing Darius’s uniform also, the messenger dropped down off his
horse and bowed his head slightly. “Commander Darius San Williams?”

Darius nodded in the affirmative and stepped closer. Belorian
guards still stood next to the messenger.

“I have two messages for you.”

“From whom?”

“One is from your mother, sir, and one is from the King.”

Darius paused for a moment and told the guards to let him
approach. “Give me the letters,” he said to the messenger.

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