The Path Of Destiny Page 11

  It finally felt good to be angry. His whole life he had tried to be understanding of his father and others. He always tried to do what was right. He wanted to feel pride in the Realm, but at the moment he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to feel the anger. His power boiled inside him.

  He went into the kitchen, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. The cook was not in the kitchen, but a meal sat on the table. The large oak table was set for a small, informal meal. Three places were set. His mother looked up from one of the seats. He watched tears come to her eyes and some of his anger abated, leaving him feeling empty and hollow. She was aware of what was happening, or at least sensed it.

  Darius went over to her and hugged her. Sitting down, her head reached only to his middle. He wondered when her hair had begun to grey.

  She looked at the other two place settings. “I was hoping that maybe. . .” she trailed off.

  Darius shook his head and she took the meaning. There would not be a last meal with the three of them. He gulped in huge breaths of air, trying to regain control over his emotions. He couldn’t bring himself to speak yet.

  Elizabeth spoke again. “It will be lonely here, Darius. I will miss you.”

  Her words broke his heart and he finally spoke. “I’ll miss you too, Mom. But I will think about you all of the time,” answered Darius. The tears of his mother softened his anger. He felt like a small kid again. All the memories of his childhood seemed to flood into his mind. He remembered her teaching him to read and write, encouraging him with his many interests, helping him with his problems. She was always there for him. She was his rock he relied upon when things got bad with his dad, or at school, or with the many other problems facing a young man. She didn’t live the life of many other nobles’ wives, always involved in parties and court functions. She liked being in her home. She would always be there. Never judging. Just loving.

  He took a few bites of food, but was not really hungry. He was not ashamed of the tears in his own eyes. His emotions swirled inside. He wondered how so much anger and love existed in him at the same time.

  “How long do you have?” she asked.

  “Only a short time. Father is my escort to watch over what I do. We must return in a few hours. I need to pack.”

  “Then you must leave right away.” Elizabeth smiled through her tears, thin lines of wrinkles showing at the corners of her eyes.

  Darius wasn’t sure what she meant. Leave?

  “What do you mean? Leave where?”

  “You will want to see Christine, won't you?”

  It was then that Darius realized again why he loved his mom so much. She always knew what he was thinking and what he needed.

  “You can go through the back door. Your father will not realize for a while. I will talk to him. I will have him bring your things to the castle.”

  “Mom, I love you,” smiled Darius as he gave her a kiss.

  They stood for a moment longer; then she shoved some food into his hands. He would have to rush to the back of the castle grounds to get the Cremelino first. He would have to run hard. So he started running, calculating in his mind the quickest route.

  He ran through the back alley and down the cobblestone streets of the nobles’ neighborhood. Tall houses flanked him on either side. He made it to the school and through the fields behind the school. He wound down the hill and to some forgotten stables.

  He grabbed the Cremelino by the reins, knowing that he couldn’t ride the animal. The Cremelinos only took one rider in their lifetime, and that would be Christine for this horse. There were stories of people trying to ride one without the Cremelinos permission. They talked about feeling a deep burning pain inside and being thrown from the horse. He hoped Christine enjoyed the Cremelino. Not many people owned one, and none who did lived in the farmlands. He was so excited to see Christine’s face when he gave her the Cremelino.

  He took roads that skirted the city, as far away from the castle as he could go. The homes and storefronts in this area here were smaller and less attractive. A few street vendors yelled to him to buy their wares.

  No need to pull me so hard, wizard. I will follow you.

  Darius stopped so suddenly that the Cremelino bumped into him, almost knocking him over. Who had just spoken to him?

  I did.

  Looking into the horse's light blue eyes, he got a funny feeling inside his mind.

  Yes, wizard, I can speak to you.

  Darius looked around. Some street kids stopped and looked at Darius. He still wore his finery and stood out in this seedier part of town. He didn’t want someone to report back to his father that they had seen Darius leaving this way.

  “I am not a wizard,” Darius growled out loud, but softly.

  Call yourself what you wish, but the prophecy says otherwise.

  “Prophecy?” This time Darius tried to speak in his mind, as well as out loud. He was shocked to find it actually worked. He was really communicating with one of the Cremelinos. He didn’t know that it was possible. Could others do it to? Or was it due to his emerging powers?

  The horse recited in his mind:

  Forgotten lines of ancient magic

  and the power of the throne

  One will make them both his own

  if his heart sees the true power. . .

  More people began staring at the young noble facing his Cremelino horse. Darius looked around and decided he needed to keep moving.

  I will follow you. Run, wizard, run!

  Darius didn’t feel like arguing again. Besides, arguing with a horse seemed silly. Talking with a horse seemed foolish also, but that was what he was doing.

  The Cremelino followed behind Darius as he picked up his pace. He rounded a curve in the road and began running harder. He stopped to pass through a small back gate out of the city that wasn’t used much. He was now in the farmlands. He ran faster over the pastures and farmlands, jumping fences as he needed. His legs burned and his lungs drew in deep breaths.

  He brought the power up and found he could direct some to release some of his pains as his long legs carried him faster. His hair stood just above his neck and blew in the breeze. He reached the main road into the farmlands and appreciated the firmer ground. The ancient oak and maple trees became a blur of green and red. He had to see Christine.

  Christine’s father had been quite sick lately and Christine spent more and more time helping to work the farm with the others. Darius wanted to help, but his father had insisted on Darius accompanying him to more and more meetings. He wondered now if the whole plan had always been to get him away from Christine. His time away from her had made him grow even more fond of her. Darius couldn't believe how intelligent, compassionate, and fun she was. He smiled, thinking of her soft voice and laugh. Only seeing her for a few moments would sustain him for now.

  He saw her house ahead and stopped a little ways before to catch his breath. The Cremelino stood next to him, hardly breathing at all. He was amazed at the horse’s endurance, as he knew that he was already running faster than was normal. His power washed over him again to take the tiredness away. His heart beat with excitement as it always did when he anticipated seeing her. This time, however, he also carried a heaviness, and he realized he would have to say goodbye for a while.

  “Hello, Darius,” greeted Caroline, Christine’s mother. She met him on the porch and ushered him into the house. “Will the horse be all right out here by itself?”

  “Oh, yes.” Darius guessed she would be.

  “She is beautiful.”

  Darius felt a glimmer of pride come through his mind. He looked at the Cremelino and smiled.

  Darius tried to catch his breath from the long run, but was sweating from the summer afternoon heat. The clouds had become thicker, but as yet no rain fell. “Is Christine out in the field?”

  “No, Darius. She isn't here.”

  “What do you mean she isn't here?” Panic began to set in. “Where is she?”

  “She
went to Forest View to deliver food from the farmlands. It was a sudden thing. She wouldn't let Stefen go alone. He was feeling sick again. They won't be back until early tomorrow morning, I'm afraid. Why?”

  Darius found himself speechless. He felt like someone had taken his stomach and torn it out of him. His face winced in pain and he put his hand up to his chest to stop the growing ache. Sweat started dripping off his face and he turned pale. How could his father do this to him? How could the King send him off so quickly? What right did they have to push him like this?

  Oh, Darius. The Cremelino sighed in his mind.

  “Sit down, Darius.” Caroline sounded worried. “Here on the chair,” she motioned.

  After a few minutes of silence, Caroline’s concern got the better of her. “What is going on, Darius? Are you sick?”

  He trusted Christine’s family. They had accepted him and taught him much about the simple things in life. But he knew he couldn’t share too much with them. The King had ordered silence on the matter, and as much as he disliked King Edward at the moment, he was an honorable citizen and knew that to disobey the King could bring more trouble.

  “I can’t tell you much, but I have been called away to the mountains for some military training and I don’t know when I will be back…or,” his voice caught, “if I will be back.”

  “And you just found out?” Caroline’s lips shook, holding back her own tears.

  “Yes, and we leave in a few hours. I am not even supposed to be here.”

  “Oh, Darius, I don't know what to say. Christine will be so . . . so . . .” She couldn't say anymore after that. Darius knew how close she and her daughter were.

  Darius sat, leaning upon the edge of the chair with his face in his hands. Tears fell through his fingers. Caroline came over and put her arm around him, trying to comfort him.

  Darius looked up and wiped his eyes. They were red and running with tears. “I have to go now,” he whispered shakily. “I have to get back, but I brought her a gift.”

  “The Cremelino?” asked Caroline.

  Tell her, her daughter was chosen. We are meant to bond together.

  Darius paused, listening to the Cremelino in his mind.

  “Yes,” Darius continued. “Just tell her they chose her. Only one rider may ride a Cremelino and this one is hers. I am not sure why, but I know she is meant to have her. “

  Caroline nodded, trying not to cry again.

  Darius stood and dragged his feet to the door. “Also tell her . . . tell her that I . . .” He began to choke up again. He tried to summon the power to help him, but it wouldn’t come. His despair ran too deep.

  Caroline grabbed a piece of paper, an inkwell, and a pen. “Why don't you write a note?” she offered.

  Darius took the paper and sat down at a small table by the front door. He just gazed at it for a few moments as he felt tears drip like rain over his reddened cheeks and onto the blank paper. He finally scrawled a few words, folded it, and gave it back to Caroline. He smiled at her through the tears, hugged her, and went out the door.

  We will be waiting for your return, the Cremelino spoke to Darius’s mind as he passed by.

  He walked with his head hung low, in a daze, not really thinking of anything in particular. He was lost. He was numb. He felt cold and afraid. He looked up at the dirt road before him.

  Darius started to run.

  He needed Christine, he thought. He needed to hear her voice of reassurance. Now he was alone. So alone. He ran faster. His lungs ached; his legs ached. He let the anger build. It felt good to feel something. He vowed to remember this anger. It made him feel more alive and powerful.

  He hadn't realized his feelings for Christine had grown so strong. He ran even harder. It seemed to help to have something else to focus on. He felt his insides rip apart. Alternating feelings of love and hate tore through him.

  Darius. A voice in the back of his mind called, almost pleading. Don’t let anger control you.

  Go away! He slammed his mind shut.

  He raged in anger at his father for doing this. He cursed the King for his plan. He hated life right now. This whole thing was unfair and wrong. He thought it unfair that Kelln had been able to go to Belor. He should be here with him. He should be going up into the dark Superstition Mountains with his friend. Darius tried to run harder and realized his legs were cramping with tightness and his head was spinning with illusions.

  He passed through the city gate without even slowing. He crossed through the field behind the school. He stopped and fell to his knees into the dark dirt. He cried out in anguish again, in between breaths of survival. He kept the ancient sword concealed next to the hidden doorway they had found behind the school. He had removed it a few times over the past few months to practice, but had never wanted to leave it in his home. He was aware that the sword somehow magnified his power. If he ever needed power, it was now!

  Darius knew he didn't have much time. He dragged himself to where the hidden door sat in the back of the hill. He pulled at some bushes. He began to dig slowly at first, then in frantic scratching at the dirt. His emotions raged within him, jumbled between anger, rage, loneliness, sadness, and excitement. He could feel the sword calling to him and thought of the times he had held it before. He felt the package before he saw it. The power raged through him as it recognized the ancient weapon. He swayed at the force of it. It washed away all his weariness and replaced it with purpose.

  Darius pulled the sword out of the ground and out of the burlap he had wrapped it in. He held the shinning sword up and watched it turn a golden white. Small veins of lightning traveled up the blade from his hand. In reluctance he lowered it and hooked it onto his belt, then sadly smiled at the memory of his and Kelln’s adventure that rainy afternoon. Kelln had always made sure that some kind of adventure was in progress. He missed his friend.

  With the sword at his side he ran again. He neared the walls of the castle grounds and noticed no other men walking in. He was late and received nervous looks from the guards. Dirt spotted his coat and pants and his face was smeared with dirty tears. He stopped at a well, cleaned his face, tried to wipe off some of the dirt, and strode into the courtyard where the other soon-to-be soldiers stood waiting at their benches.

  Heads turned to follow him when he walked into the meeting area. A quick glance around showed him he was the last to arrive. His father stood up front on the podium. Anger and rage filled his face.

  “Darius San Williams. Come up front!” the senior councilor commanded with a voice that left no question. Darius walked up front, his hand on his sword. Mumblings went through the crowd and a few pointed at the ornate hilt of the golden blade.

  “You left your escort and disobeyed the King’s instructions.” His father said it as a statement, not a question. Darius didn't say a word. He just looked emotionlessly at the councilor.

  Richard brought his hand up and slapped Darius so hard it knocked him off balance and almost onto the ground. With his right hand never leaving the sword, Darius reached out his left hand and balanced himself against a chair. His father seemed to pay little attention to the sword at all.

  “No one—not even the son of a councilor—disobeys the King. His words are law!” He looked Darius straight in the eye, piercing his entire soul. “No one,” he added to the entire group.

  With a flick of his hand, Richard motioned for Darius to return to the group. Darius walked down the aisle with a slow anger brewing deep inside him. Each slow step emphasized his feelings. His cheek stung and the slap would surely leave a bruise. He hated his father now.

  The crowd gasped and Darius looked around. They were all following him with their eyes. He looked down at his hand, which tightened around the sword. Both glowed a brilliant white.

  Darius turned back towards his father with rage filling his eyes. His father’s arrogance, abuse of political power, and blindness to the plight of the people brought a bad taste to his mouth. He spit to try to rid himself of it. He con
tinued to hold onto his sword, almost bringing it out at any moment. It felt good to feel something again. It felt good to be consumed by the anger. He hated his father more than he could ever remember, and he hated the King for being the King. No one should have that much power, he thought. No one!

  He sat down and with a deep breath let go of the sword. The light winked out. Whispers and questions flew like the wind through the courtyard. Richard moved to the podium and demanded silence. He gave more instructions, and by the time he was done, Darius hoped the others had already begun to question whether they had actually seen the brilliant light or not.

  Late that night all the young men were loaded into large covered carts. They sat packed in side by side on simple benches, their belongings packed in the other wagons. Darius glared at the guard that tried to take his sword. The man backed off and moved down the line, inspecting the other men. Just after midnight they departed. The wooden wheels creaked in slow unison as they left the dark city behind them.

  Darius could feel the glare of others around him. Being the son of a councilor and defying the King had marked him as surely as anything else. He didn’t know how to gain their friendship. He looked back at the city. His city. It was all he had ever known. Anikari. The center of the Realm. One of the crossroads of the western world. He who held Anikari held the power of the Realm and had great influence across the neighboring kingdoms of Arc and Gildan.

  They passed through the west gate on to the road leading to the Superstition Mountains. He thought of home, of Kelln, and mostly of Christine and his anger abated. Regret and shame seeped in. He didn’t know what had gotten in to him. Exhausted, sleep soon overcame him.

  His sleep seemed to be devoid of dreams that night and he woke early feeling relaxed and almost new. The warmth and direction of the sun signaled morning, sending shadows across the road ahead of them. Ahead to the west, the Superstition Mountains loomed closer. He sighed a deep breath when he thought again of Christine. He thought of their favorite place, The Field of Diamonds, the small meadow at the edge of the Lake of Reflection. He told her when they first found it that he wanted adventure and to fight for the peace of the Realm, he just didn't know it would happen this way. He told her silently he would return for her.