The Path of Decisions (12 page)

One of the men laughed. “I don't see any great army. Do you, Tam?”
He asked the other man.

“No, I don't either. Maybe they are hiding in the trees.” The men
both laughed, showing Darius a few of their missing teeth.

“They will come looking for me,” Darius continued.

The first rider, a large bald fellow, stepped into Darius’s view
and looked in his eyes. “But they will never find you... at least alive.” He
gave a hoarse, haunting laugh.

Darius’s heart dropped, and he swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

“You will find out soon enough. Our leader will take care of
that,” said the man named Tam. He had a slight accent that Darius thought was
from the Kingdom of Arc, but since he had never been there before, he wasn’t
sure. Darius reminded himself that either one of these men could kill him in
his condition. He wondered what had happened to his sword.

He felt someone step down from the wagon, and low voices followed.
A female squealed and Darius wondered who she was.

A voice soon came from behind Darius, telling the two horsemen to
blindfold Darius and bring him. Darius tried to resist, but it was useless. His
hands and feet were tied. His captors threw him over the horse on his stomach.
He heard some other voices up ahead growing louder as they moved. A few minutes
later the men pulled him off his horse, untied his feet, and told him to keep
walking. One of the men directed him with a large, meaty hand on his shoulder.

He had never realized how much the power had been a part of his
life. He guessed now it had always been there. His skill with the sword and
bow, his knack for direction and knowing where things were, had all been part
of his growing power. Now he sensed the power almost hiding at the edge of his
mind, but somehow it stayed blocked. He felt blind to his usual heightened
senses; they felt dulled. To him it was like looking through a dirty window or
trying to think after too much ale.

The ground underneath his feet changed. It was stone now, and the
air was cooler. He had been taken underground into some sort of cave. For some
reason he thought about his mother and wondered what she would do if he didn’t
return. The dream played in his mind again. He had never wanted to hurt her.
She had always loved him.

He tried to draw in the power again. There appeared to be a small
but subtle shift in his mind—a crack in the barrier that held it at bay.

Somewhere a door scraped open, and the men shoved Darius to the
ground. He heard the thudded sound of the door close behind him among a few
laughs. Then silence settled in.

Darius, still on the ground, tried to work his feet up to get the
cloth off his eyes. The room was dark and still. Finally he was able to push
the blindfold up over his eyes. He could barely see his surroundings, with only
a small amount of light entering from the bottom of the crudely made door. The
room seemed to be four walls, but two of the walls rounded together. It was
carved from rock. The ceiling hung close to him, barely allowing him to stand
without crouching. Off in one corner sat a sunken cot. Besides that, it was
empty and lonely. He put his mind to use gathering information for his escape
and working to unravel the barrier that had been constructed in his mind.

He wondered what would happen when he did not return to Anikari or
back to Belor. If he did not escape quickly, the Preacher would take their men
and march on Anikari. Darius grimaced at the thought. It was what he had
thought to do himself, but after seeing the type of man the Preacher really was
he knew it wasn’t the right answer.

Darius still didn’t know who had captured him. Was it because he
was the leader of the King’s Elite Army or had looked to side with the Preacher
or because he was the son of a king’s councilor? He wondered if maybe Realm
soldiers had captured him. Maybe it was a trick from the King all along, to get
him alone. None of it made sense. Most of all, he couldn’t figure out how
someone had known where he and Mezar were staying ahead of time. Maybe he
should have changed out of his armor and gone in with more stealth.

Darius moved from the floor to sit on the cot. His hands, still
tied, were swollen and numb. He tried to work the ropes off but soon gave up
and lay on his side on the worn cot. Somehow he fell asleep.

Voices outside of Darius’s door woke him up. He sat up and tried
to listen. He heard sounds on his door as chains and bolts were undone. At
last, he would see the leader of his captors and find out what was going on. He
sat up to ready himself and tried to stretch as well as he could. His mind had
cleared a little, and he was more alert and less groggy than before.

The heavy wooden door swung open, sending in a bright torch light
that enveloped the darkened room. Darius tried to see who appeared in the
silhouette. Something in his stance seemed familiar.

“Does the light bother your eyes?” whispered the approaching man.

“Who are you?” Darius asked.

“You don't know, Darius? I have been planning this for a long
time. I just didn’t realize that when the opportunity came it would be so easy
and enjoyable.”

Darius recognized him now and gasped, “Sean....” The young man
that had taunted him growing up, teased him for having Christine as a friend
from the farmland, and whom he had beaten in his last archery tournament. The
last thought gave him small satisfaction now. He had thought when Sean had been
in the training camp in the mountains that they had moved past all their
juvenile pettiness.

“Surprised to see me, I see.” Sean lowered the torch and set it in
a hole in the wall. The flickers sent shadows dancing across the room. His hair
was still cropped close to his head, but he now sported a goatee that made him
look older in the strange light. His pants were pressed, and his lace-bordered
shirt hung perfectly on him as if he was ready for a royal gala.

Darius fumed. “What do you think you are doing?”

“I don’t think, Darius, I know. I have kidnapped you. And quite
easily, I might add. Of course, I did have some help.”

“Help... Who?”

Sean turned toward the door and motioned. “Come on in, my dear.”

In walked a young woman with her head bent. Darius’s heart skipped
a beat.

“Darius, you know Leandra.” Sean laughed.

Darius opened his mouth but couldn't think of what to say. Anger
swelled within and almost overwhelmed him as Leandra approached. Her hair hung
down over her face

With a quick step, Sean moved over to her, grabbed her chin in his
large hands and forced her face up. Darius saw the tears in her soft brown
eyes. She wouldn't look directly at him.

He couldn’t believe she had been the one. She must have followed
him. “How long has this been planned, Leandra?” Darius clenched his fists. “Was
our friendship only an act?”

“It has been planned since the beginning, Darius. I planned it,”
said Sean, puffing out his chest, “and Leandra was kind enough to agree, right
Leandra?”

Leandra stood still, not saying anything. Her muscles tensed and
soft tears ran down from bloodshot eyes. Darius thought he saw the beginnings
of a bruise on her right check.

“Right, Leandra?” Sean repeated as he forced Leandra's face up
again. He moved over to kiss her. Leandra turned away, and he grabbed her chin
again.

Instinct drove Darius forward. Sure he was mad at Leandra, but
Sean had no right to do what he was doing to her. Darius might not have loved
Leandra, but he had developed a caring friendship toward her. He jumped and
brought one leg up, kicking Sean in the stomach. Sean fell to the ground with a
roar that brought five guards racing into the room. Leandra stumbled back a few
steps. 

“I’m all right.” Sean said to the guards as he returned to his
feet. “It will be his last heroic effort.”

Darius stood with hands still tied behind him, glaring at Sean.
Once again he had lost control of his temper. It may have cost him a chance to
escape. He looked at Leandra and experienced an odd compassion for her. A
feeling he hadn’t felt in a while. As he did, another crack gave way in the
barrier of his power.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Sean taunted him. “Can’t draw forth any
of your powers now? I wonder why that is?”

“What powers are you talking about?” Darius’s mind reeled at the
realization that someone knew about his powers. He was sure Sean was just
guessing. “What did you do to me?”  He realized that the men that had captured
him and put some kind of poison to his lips that stopped his powers from
emerging.

Sean shrugged his shoulders, looking back at Leandra. “Just a
little something to keep your powers at bay. Anyways, you never treated Leandra
right. She was a prize to you, Darius. You don’t deserve any prizes.”

Darius felt heat on his cheeks as he realized the truth of Sean’s
words. It grated him to hear the truth from his captor’s lips. He hadn’t
treated Leandra well and had taken her friendship and companionship for
granted. But that still gave Sean no right to capture him.

Sean walked back up to Darius. “You took the archery contest away
from me. You took away my right to be in the King’s army. I should have been a
noble's son. I should have had the power you have. You were everything I wanted
to be and have everything I want.” Sean seethed, his voice getting louder as he
spoke. “Well, not anymore, Darius. I will steal it all back from you. I have
Leandra now, and for your ransom your father will give me nobility and the rule
of a city, or he will never see you again.”

“Sean, you are not thinking straight.” Darius tried to negotiate.
“You can’t get away with this.”

Sean grabbed Leandra by the arm and pushed her in front of him
through the door. “If not, then I will die trying. I am tired of not having
what I deserve.”

As they walked through the door, Darius heard Leandra whisper,
“Darius, it wasn't all an act.” Then the door closed.

Darius paced the floor with anger and frustration. His thoughts
moved back to Cray, his trainer in the Superstition Mountains. Cray had been
tough on Darius but had trained him well. Darius remembered when Cray had
pushed him hard both physically and mentally to see how he would react. It was
a test that had made Darius so angry. Cray had answered back that Darius would
have to be careful of enemies who appeared as friends and seemed to have warned
him all along about Leandra. Why hadn't he listened? Because she was beautiful.
Sean was right; Darius had treated her as a prize.

Darius fell to the floor in shame and anger. He delved deep into
his own mind, trying to find redemption and help. Sean would not expect Darius
to regain his power. In fact, Darius was sure Sean could only guess at how much
power Darius had. He let his anger build. That was what drove his power
stronger. But the more he pushed, the further away it seemed to be.

After an hour he tried to reach for the power again and again with
his anger, hoping for another small crack. Instead he found nothing. Nothing
but anger and fear and hurt. His powers were far, far away.

Darius looked around the room once again. Sean had left the torch
on the wall. The room looked smaller in the light.

Reality sunk in. He had no power, no friends, and certainly no
destiny here. His wrists burned as his ropes continued to rub his skin raw. He
was a prisoner, alone in a dark cave somewhere in the Black Forest. He wasn’t
even sure his father would pay a ransom for him. He thought of Kelln and Mezar.
He had treated them all poorly. He had alienated everyone who could help him.
He had made the mistake of not realizing what power was doing to him.

His mind kept hitting a block no matter how angry he became. Anger
had always been the best way to bring his power forth. What did they give him
that was blocking it? It frustrated him until he screamed a long, aching wail
of desperation.

In a nearby room, he heard Sean laughing.

From a place not too far away, Darius once again felt someone
calling him, but with his powers blocked he could do nothing more than lie in
anger, frustration, and desperation.

SECRETS

R
ichard San Williams, Senior Councilor to King Edward, sank into a
high-backed upholstered chair and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to
make the massive headache go away. King Edward DarSan Montere sat across from
him in an identical chair. It was late in the afternoon, and the ailing king
had finally been able to drag himself out of bed. His continuing weakened state
concerned Richard more than he could outwardly admit. They had been discussing
Darius again and were expecting him to arrive the next day.

Minutes passed in silence, when sounds of struggles and loud
voices sounded from the hallway outside of the King’s private rooms where they
sat. Someone knocked, and Richard looked at the King for direction.  He
motioned his head towards the door and Richard took a deep breath and stood up.

He opened the door to find a guard trying to hold back a young and
dirty man and woman. They pushed into the room. One spoke and Richard
recognized him as one of Darius’s old friends, Kelln, the son of the
swordmaker. The same swordmaker who was rumored to be working with the Preacher
in Belor.

“What are you—” Richard began, but Edward interrupted him,
demanding to know what was happening. Both Kelln and the young woman started
talking at once.

“Stop. Stop. Let’s settle down and talk about this slowly.”
Richard motioned for the guard to leave and close the door. The three moved
back over to where the King sat. Richard stayed standing next to the two
visitors. He knew Kelln well, and past moments when Kelln and Darius had to be
reprimanded for some trouble flashed through his mind. “Kelln, you mentioned
Darius’s name. What is this all about?”

Kelln explained to both the King and Richard how Darius had been
meeting with the Preacher and seemed to have been swayed by his preaching and
scheming. Kelln was concerned for Darius and didn’t know what else to do. The woman,
whom Kelln introduced as Alessandra, daughter of the Preacher and a defector
from Belor, filled in other information every now and again of the few days
that Darius had spent in Belor. After asking a few questions, the King and
Richard thought in silence.

“What does he think he is doing siding with the Belorians in this
conflict?” Richard grabbed a book off a table and threw it against the wall.
“He is the commander of the King’s Elite Army. He can't do this!”

The King gave Richard a warning look. “We will talk to him
tomorrow and get his side of the story.”

“Darius is coming here?” asked Kelln. “Are you sure?”

“He may be bringing my father and his army,” added Alessandra.

“We haven't seen any army. We would know about that. I sent a
letter to him requesting his presence.” The King coughed hard, and Richard
poured him some wine.

“That letter had to arrive after we left,” Kelln said softly. “The
last time I saw him he wasn’t very understanding.”

Richard’s eyes flared wide. His mouth was tight with anger.
“Doesn't he understand who he is? The fool.” He walked to the window and looked
out across the great city of Anikari. Could the day get any worse?

Richard turned toward the King. “He is a reckless boy who isn’t
thinking straight. How can he be a ki—”

“Richard!” King Edward bellowed, almost lifting himself out of the
chair, then fell back down into it exhausted from the outburst. “That is
enough.”

Turning to Kelln and Alessandra, Richard tried to resume some form
of outward calm.

The King, with a serious look and in as loud of voice as Richard
had heard him use lately, said, “Nothing you have heard here today may be
talked about to anyone. If you do, it could cost you your lives. Is this
clear?”

Both Kelln and Alessandra nodded their heads in nervous agreement.

“Show them out,” the King said to Richard then followed with a
whisper for the councilor’s ears only, “but make sure they are watched. I am
not sure whom to trust anymore.”

They reached the door, and Alessandra turned back. “I forgot one
thing you should know. His power is growing. If he doesn’t learn to control it
soon, it will consume and destroy him and maybe others along the way.”

“His power?” asked King Edward. “You mean as my commander? It
happens to new commanders. The victories go to their heads at first.”

Alessandra looked back and forth between Richard and the King.
“You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what, young lady?” Richard’s mouth was tight.

“Darius is a wizard!”

Richard felt lightheaded, his heart tightened, and he began to
fall. Kelln rushed to his side and lowered him to a small red couch by the
door.

The King lifted up out of his chair. “Get him some help now,” he
commanded, then collapsed back down.

Alessandra opened the door, leaned out into the hallway, and
shouted for the guard to get a doctor. One arrived and came to the couch.

“God help us all,” Richard whispered, his face ashen. He felt
himself blacking out. He was on the edge. A razor’s edge. His heart beat
faster, and his chest constricted. A circle of darkness began to close around
his eyesight. How could his son be a wizard? There weren’t wizards in Anikari
anymore.

Richard tried to stay alert for the young doctor, but his heart
was racing so fast, and tears filled his eyes. Kelln grabbed some wine from the
table, and Richard watched the doctor mix some kaya kava and valerian root into
it before pressing it to his lips. The effect came quickly. It began to relax
him, and he felt his eyes grow tired. In moments, all went black.

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

Kelln and Alessandra were escorted out of the castle and onto the
empty streets of Anikari. It seemed surreal, Kelln thought, to be back home
again after so long. It had been almost a year, and even though everything
looked similar, a new tension filled the air. He took Alessandra by his old
home. Two guards shadowed them wherever they went.

Grass and weeds grew up around the home and forge where his father
used to make swords and other tools. There was a broken window at the back of
the house, and it appeared some vagrants had used the place at some point but
had not left it in bad shape. Probably someone down on their luck and with no
shelter for the winter.

A nostalgic feeling overcame Kelln as he wandered through the few
rooms of his family’s home. Thoughts of his life before Belor flashed through
in happy memories—working with his father making swords, chasing his sisters,
the aroma of fresh-baked bread, and sneaking out at night to visit Darius in
some late-night adventure. Breathing in deeply, he let his body and soul relax.

Kelln turned to find Alessandra watching him with a smile on her
lips.

“Looks like it was a nice home.”

“It was.” Kelln sighed again. “It was. But life has changed a lot
since then.”

“You family is well in Belor, Kelln. I checked on them for you.”

 “Thank you again,” Kelln whispered. He hoped the Preacher
wouldn’t retaliate against his family for his escaping Belor.

“Let’s go to an inn. I am dirty and famished.” Kelln headed back
toward the door. “There is no food or warm water here. It hardly feels like my
home anymore.”

Out on the streets of the city again, Kelln began telling
Alessandra about Anikari, his family, and exploits with Darius. The longer he
spoke, the more his spirits lifted. Up until recently he had had a good life.
There were lots of good memories for him in Anikari.

With a short walk they entered the Mighty Stallion, a clean and
inexpensive inn not too far from the castle. After bathing and changing into
some fresh clothes they had gathered at Kelln’s home, they went into the common
room to eat.

“What’s going on here?” Kelln asked a pretty serving girl. “Why is
it so empty?”

“Are you a stranger here? The farmers have cut off all food from
us. We have to ration what we have until the King settles things with them.”

Kelln knew of the troubles mounting for years between the farmers
and the city people. Personally, he had no problem with them. In fact, he and
Darius had made friends with quite a few of them after meeting Christine.

He remembered one day hanging out with a few of the farm boys in
Karel’s barn. They joked around and had fun just like Kelln and Darius did.
Most were not as educated as the city people were, but their personality and
looks were not any different.

“I don’t understand.” Alessandra turned to Kelln as they waited
for their simple food.

“People hold on to hatreds a long time around here. Many assume
that the farmers have mixed blood with those kicked out from the wizard
rebellion generations ago. It continues to breed mistrust and hatred even this
many years later. The farmers are treated as a lower class by many of the
nobles.”

“But they grow your food and raise your cattle.”

Kelln nodded. The serving girl brought them a bowl of thin soup
and a few crusts of bread. He paused in the conversation to take a few bites.
It was salty and flavored heavily with garlic and other herbs to overcome the
fact that there wasn’t much substance to it.

Alessandra continued with her line of questions. “So the nobles
mistrust magic and wizard powers?”

Kelln looked around nervously, but the inn was empty enough that
there was no one close enough to overhear their conversation. “It’s not talked
about much here in Anikari. It’s not necessarily illegal, but exhibiting
magical powers is looked at suspiciously.”

“Won’t they all be surprised!” Alessandra laughed. “If the
Preacher and Darius converge on the city, there is bound to be some power
displayed here.”

Kelln furrowed his brows and frowned at that thought. He had to
help his friend. Kelln knew if he could get Darius away from the Preacher,
maybe even back with Christine, he could talk some sense into him.

Kelln wondered how Christine had fared over the past year. He
wondered if her family was safe or if she had married. He decided he would go
see her soon and tell her all about Darius. She would know what to do to help.

“What did the councilor mean about Darius? He was cut off by the
King… saying something,” said Alessandra.

“I'm sure he meant Darius should be acting more responsibly since
he is the son of a noble and the King’s commander.” Kelln felt uneasy. He
suspected what Richard had been going to say, but couldn’t understand how it
could be.

“The King and the Councilor both seemed nervous. I think something
else is going on.” Alessandra took a few spoonfuls of the weak soup. “Did you
see their faces? They are hiding something from us.”

“You’re exaggerating. I know Darius and his father. They haven’t
recently gotten along very well. His father worried about Darius’s interaction
out in the farmlands. They didn’t see eye to eye on many things. I do wonder
why they asked Darius here, though.”
Kelln was not as calm on the inside
as he showed Alessandra on the outside. The King and Richard were genuinely
surprised at Darius’s growing power. The shock had almost killed Darius’s
father.

“Do you think he is bringing my father and the army?” asked
Alessandra.

“The King’s men hadn't seen an army,” answered Kelln. “Maybe he is
coming on his own. Let's wait until tomorrow and see. Right now I need some
rest.”

They rented two rooms in the inn, to the owner’s obvious joy, and
headed upstairs.

Kelln laid on the too-soft bed and thought about the last year of
his life. Things used to be so much simpler when he and Darius were in the
academy studying. He smiled at multiple memories of their adventures together.
Kelln had to admit it was usually him who got them into precarious situations.
Darius had been the level-headed one. At least until he had found the sword and
some type of power had awakened in him. Ever since then Darius had been more
apt to get angry. Kelln thought about what Alessandra’s grandfather, Alastair,
had taught him about God and prayed a silent prayer for Darius. He hoped that
Alastair was being cared for by someone.  He had hated to leave the old man,
but Alastair had said he would be fine. Soon after those thoughts he fell into
a much-needed sleep.

The next morning a knocking on his door caught Kelln by surprise,
and he sat up in bed with his heart pounding. He shivered in the morning air
and threw his cloak on over his clothes before answering the door.

“Oh, it’s you.” Kelln said to Alessandra as she moved into the
room. He sat back down on his bed and started rubbing his eyes. Alessandra let
out a soft giggle.

“What?” he asked.

“You look like a little boy just waking up.”

“I do not!”

Kelln tried to pat down his unruly hair, but he knew the curls
wouldn’t do much without a douse of water, and even then they probably needed a
trim.

“Your hair is all messy, and you're rubbing your eyes like a
little boy.”

Kelln picked up his lumpy pillow and threw it at Alessandra,
hitting her in the head. A large smile spread across her lips, and she laughed,
her dark, almond-shaped eyes sparkling with amusement.