The Path Of Destiny (17 page)

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 Edward 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.

The King whipped his head around.

“Peace is a fragile thing, King Edward. You will not be
remembered for it unless you deal with these things.” She knew they could
detain her for such words, but she was compelled to say what the King needed to
hear. Everything seemed so much clearer now. “You will give us an answer, or
troubles that you cannot stop will arise.”

“How dare you,” Edward bellowed, and he stepped forward. His
face went red and his eyes bulged.

Christine stood in front of King Edward, defiant and proud.
A hush filled the room, and those leaving stopped to watch the exchange. Her
eyes pierced his, daring him to look away.

May the power fill you, and the dreams you desire come
true for your boldness, my child,
Lightning spoke to Christine’s soul, and
she felt uplifted.

Hope and light filled Christine as never before. Her fear
diminished. She smiled at the King and curtsied, never taking her green eyes
from his. She had said all that needed to be said at the moment.

The next move was up to King Edward himself.

Christine took her surprised companion by his arm, turned,
and walked out the large doors. Small whispers followed in her wake, and
conversations began to return to normal. The stewards kept control and
continued ushering the rest of the petitioners out.

* * * *

After the two farmers left the room, King Edward turned with
heavy feet towards his private chambers once again. His head hurt horribly. He
put his hand there to quell the pain. The headaches had been coming more
frequently lately. He motioned his councilor back and entered his private study
by himself.

Without really seeing anything in the room, he dragged his
feet to his large red chair. He hated red right now; it reminded him of the
troubles in Belor. Maybe one day he would change the furniture. He fell into
the stuffed chair and leaned his head back. Slowly his heart slowed and he
breathed normally.

How can this girl have such an effect on me? Who is she
?
He would have to ask Richard to get more information. He was sure he had
glimpsed an aura of light around her this time. That’s what frightened him more
than anything else. And the look in her eyes. It was pure, and full of
boldness. She seemed so assured that what she was doing was right. He felt
power, but didn’t know what to do about it. The only real power he knew of that
still existed in the Realm was the Throne of Power. Wizards and other magic
hadn’t been seen in a century. Well, there were rumors that the madman in Belor
had magic.

His world felt like it was spinning out of control. Was this
his punishment for not being the rightful heir to the throne? He had always
done his best, but a nagging in the back of his mind had always told him he was
not meant to be the king.

“Peace.” He banged his hand on his chair. “What does some
young wench from the farmlands comprehend of how fragile peace is?”

Today had been a frustrating day. Earlier in the week he had
sent a group of men to Belor to seal the city until things settled down. A
messenger had arrived today to inform him that the situation had turned into an
ugly and bloody battle. Peace had reigned through most of his kinghood, but all
of a sudden things seemed to be happening on all sides. His life was
unraveling.

Besides Belor, the normal bickering of the guilds was
flaring up again in Mar, and now he had just learned from his spies that the
Gildanians were marching towards Denir.

Edward wondered what the old emperor was up to this time.
They had traded in peace since the treaty over twenty years ago. Rumors held
that the man was becoming senile in his old age, and his eldest son had begun
running the empire for him—a son who didn’t always agree with the more peaceful
ways.

The King kicked the small table over with his large, black
leather boots. A book and two cups crashed to the floor. On top of all the
troubles in the kingdom, he now had to deal with a pair of petty petitioning
farmers from Anikari’s own backyard. He admitted he had let things get out of
hand with the treatment between the farmers and the city. He justified that he
hadn’t known the extent of the persecutions. His mind had been on other things.
The fighting in Belor, the heir to the throne, his health.

He wished he had known more about the farmlands earlier. Now
there was little time to remedy that problem until other important things were
taken care of. His councilors should have taken care of these types of things
for him. But now he knew some of his councilors were also conniving behind his
back, setting themselves up for the next monarchy.
At least that is taken
care of. Darius will be the next king!

Richard walked into the room after a small knock on the
door. Seeing the King’s apparent distress, his face grew concerned. “Are you
feeling well, Edward?”

“No!” he yelled, then he continued more softly, “I have been
having these outrageous headaches. They almost put me in bed. And this winter
weather does nothing to help, not to mention all of those petitioners out in
the hall. And just now I thought I might be having a heart problem.”

“Did the farmers come back?”

“Yes they did; that’s what pushed me over the edge. I left
without talking to them. Well, I tried to leave. That
girl
.” He held his
head between his hands. “What do you know about this Christine? She cannot be
altogether what she appears to be. She is not just a farmer; there is too much
power there. Who is behind this?”

Richard sat down across from the King. He reached down and
picked up the table that had been knocked over. “She and my son, Darius, were
good friends, even though I tried to forbid it.”

“Why?”

“Why what, Edward?” His voice rose louder than he intended.

“Why did you forbid them to be together, and how close of
friends were they?”

“Edward, she is an outsider. A farmer. You do remember what
Darius is going to be?” Richard was nervous, looking around, making sure no one
else was listening. “They were close friends, from what my wife tells me. Very
close. They held strong feelings for each other.”

“I have a sense about her, but I can’t grasp what it is. The
way she spoke today. The power she held. I felt something. Powers that haven’t
manifested themselves in generations are here in Anikari again.”

“My King, am I not your councilor? If so, I now counsel you
to get her out of your mind. She is just a poor, silly farmer. She means
nothing to us.”

“Richard . . .” The King paused. “You must not be so hard on
them.”

“But . . .”

“But nothing, my councilor and friend. Someday you will
appreciate things differently. Mark my words . . .” Edward was so tired of
late. It was so much to juggle. He had so much information he wanted to share
with Richard, but for his sake, he had to only give him bits at a time. He
didn’t want to see his first councilor and friend destroyed.

“What are you talking about, Edward? You had better lie
down. You aren't making much sense.”

Richard helped Edward to his bedchamber, then left the King,
telling him he would be in his office if he needed him.

* * * *

Out in one of the hallways of the castle, Christine and
Martin Halverssn stood talking.

“They will not listen to us,” said the older man sadly. “But
you did try. We will have to think of another way. Let's go.”

“I am not going until I get some answers. I want to know if
they even looked at our petition.”

“Christine, he will not talk to you. He's the king. He does
what he wants. You saw him. That’s how the nobles are. You might have been
taken and bound for what you said to him. I promised your dad I would keep you
safe. Now let’s go!”

“You and my dad have been friends for a long time, haven't
you?” reflected Christine, walking down the long stone hall. Lamps flickered on
the high wall, sending shadows onto the marble floor. Paintings and tapestries
hung on the stone walls every few feet, between the lamps. The hallway seemed
to narrow as she looked down its long corridor. “I can tell my father doesn’t
like the city, but he wants all of this settled peacefully.”

“We need to get out of here, Christine.” Martin looked
around for guards. He was the opposite of her father physically. Thin and
serious, with graying hair. The only hint of his former hair color was the
touch of black right above his temples.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her along. Christine stopped
and pulled her arm away from him. “What is this secret that no one is telling
me about? I want to know about my father.”

“He’s the only one that can say. I cannot. Now let’s go
back.”

“I am staying until King Edward or his councilor sees me.”

“You will need an appointment, and they will never give you
one. Now be reasonable. We tried, and I hoped with all my heart they would
listen. But they didn't. They don't care. It is only a matter of time before we
start fighting,” he said in a fatherly, lecturing way.

“If that's what it has come to, then all the more reason for
me to try even harder to keep the fighting from happening. Now you go back to
my father and tell him I am fine. I am going to find the King. Nothing will
happen to me in the castle.”

Martin sighed, realizing that Christine wasn’t going to
budge. He told her to be careful and left to go back to the farmlands.

Is this a good idea?

Christine felt Lightning’s question probing her
. I’m not
sure, but I have to do something.

Christine sat down on a lone chair in the spacious hall to
try to think of what she was going to do. It seemed strange to her. For some
reason, the hall was empty except for her. In the shuffle of getting everyone
out, she and Martin had become separated from everyone else.

She looked up at the massive stones that fashioned the
ceiling, and down at the marble floor that was pieced together in large
rectangles. She felt alone and afraid, but was determined to talk to the King.
She looked at the gilded mirrors and large paintings and began to get angry.
They lived in such opulence while many struggled just to barely live out in the
farmlands.

She would see this thing through right now.

Be careful!

She abruptly rose off the chair and started to walk down the
hall, leading deeper into the castle complex. More than once she ducked behind
a large pillar or corner before someone spotted her. Her heart pounded with
adrenaline-filled excitement. She was not the one to opt for adventure but
since the night she had gone with Anya and Stephanie to the barn her whole life
seemed to be taking a direction of its own.