The Path of Decisions (5 page)

Darius didn’t know how fantastic it was or wasn’t, but he could
see that he had a lot to learn. He didn’t like the things that Alastair had
said to him. “I can see I don't understand what is going on here. We will make
camp here and wait for my other men to rejoin us.  They should be here within
the hour.”

The Belorians were gathered and guards set to watch them.
Alessandra stood with Alastair, her grandfather, off to the side. They talked
in whispered voices. Her eyes kept darting around, looking for Kelln.

Darius walked off with Kelln out of earshot of the other men. On
their way to distance themselves, Leandra met them.

“Is this your friend, Darius?” asked Leandra.

“This is Kelln. We grew up together in the academy in Anikari.” He
introduced them.

Leandra drew closer and put her hands around Darius’s arm. “Darius
is a famous commander now.”

Kelln raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

Darius leaned down and gave Leandra a kiss on the forehead. “Why
don’t you go and keep Mezar company, Leandra? Kelln and I need to catch up on
some things.”

Leandra pushed out her bottom lip in a mock pout. Squeezing his
arm tightly once more before letting go, she said her goodbyes.

Darius didn’t know where to start. The last time he had seen his
old friend was in Anikari the night before Kelln had left with some mysterious
girl to go to Belor and see what had happened to his father. It had only been a
short time afterward that Darius himself had been scripted into the King’s
Elite Army. A lot had changed since then.

That had been over eight months before. He remembered the day
well. With no warning at all, Darius and other men a few years older than him had
been taken to the castle and informed by King Edward and his councilor Richard—
Darius’s father— that they were now going to be part of a specially trained
Elite Army. It was that day, upon the sudden news of being subscribed into the
new army, and the inability to see Christine before they left, that made Darius
fully realize his path in life: restoring glory again to the Realm, and
fighting for the underprivileged people in its borders.

Kelln stood looking at Darius as if trying to figure out what to
say himself. “Who was that? What about Christine?” His eyes followed Leandra as
she walked away.

Darius frowned. “Christine is probably better off without me.” He
said it more gruffly than he intended.

Kelln stiffened. “Why do you say that? You’re not saying this…
this girl has replaced Christine as the love of your life? I haven’t been gone
that long, Darius. You two were in love.  Real love.” Kelln’s hands waved
around the air as he talked.

“Nobody has replaced anyone, Kelln, but people change. I have changed.”

Kelln glanced over toward where Alessandra and Alastair stood
talking.

Darius followed his eye movements. “So what is the story between
you and her?”

Kelln sighed and began to tell Darius everything that had befallen
him since he had arrived in Belor: the growing powers of the Preacher and his
plans to defy the Realm, lead the city, and maybe take over the Realm; Kelln’s
own imprisonment and torture and finally his escape; meeting Alastair and
eventually being recaptured.

Darius listened intently, especially about the Preacher. He gasped
at Kelln’s torture and wondered how he could now be so jovial.

“Well, we certainly aren't boys anymore,
are we?” said Darius.

“No. I guess not. We have grown and discovered new things about
ourselves.” Kelln looked at Darius as if he hoped Darius would talk more about
himself. Darius did not, so Kelln continued. “I have even found the peace of
God.”

“You found what?”

“I found out that what we are inside is what makes us who we are,
Darius.” Kelln continued in all seriousness. “That is the only way I can deal
with everything that has happened to me.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you, Kel. I have been trained in the
King’s Elite Army, become the first commander, won my first battle, and am
leading men now to Belor to capture the Preacher. I am a commander now. A
commander with power. That is what defines who I am.”

“But you are more, Darius. Don't you understand? You don't have to
be just a commander if you don't want to. Power is not what you wanted.”

“But power is what I have now.” Darius retorted. “You are the one
who told me to embrace my powers, Kelln. You told me not to hide them.”

Darius breathed deeply and looked around the campsite, making sure
no one had heard his outburst. He was changing inside, and not even his best
friend could understand that.

Kelln spoke more softly. “Remember you wanted to travel the Realm
and do things differently than your father.”

Darius frowned at the mention of his father. Anger began mounting
again. Darius forced a laugh. “I thought that once too, Kel. But events didn't
seem to work out that way. Look at me now. I have become the mightiest leader
in the King’s army. He will revere me when I return victorious to Anikari. The
Realm needs protection, not only from outside, but from within. I need to make
the King and his councilor’s see the people for who they are and understand
that they can’t control everyone. They sit in their meetings and make decisions
without being out among the people and understanding them.” 

“Does he know about your power?”

“My power?” Darius glared down at his old friend. “I know how they
all talk about me behind my back. My glowing sword, my ability to move quickly,
knocking people over with a push of air, hearing things before anyone else
does. The power is growing inside me, Kelln. I see things more clearly, and I
feel things more. The anger drives the power and feeds it. That is when I am
most powerful.”

Kelln took a few steps back and opened his mouth, but nothing came
out.

“You are welcome to stay with us.” Darius informed his friend
formally. “Tomorrow we finish our march toward Belor. You can go or stay, but
this is what I must do now. I will confront the Preacher and see what his
grievances are. Maybe he is not so far off the track as many believe.”

Kelln tried to pat down his unruly red hair, but an evening wind
blew it all around. “You need to watch out for the Preacher, Darius. He is
dangerous. He is more powerful than you think.”

“He cannot be that strong.” Darius sneered. “You can stay here or
go with us, but I
am
going to Belor.

“Fine.” Kelln mumbled. “Someone needs to watch over your ego.”

In the blink of an eye, Darius was in front of Kelln’s face with a
warning. “Watch your step, Kelln.”

With no more words, Kelln walked away from Darius and back to the
campfire. Darius watched him go and felt guilty for being so harsh to his
friend. Kelln had always been beside him in the past. If his friend could see
reason they could walk together again and accomplish anything they wanted to.

The next day the party resumed walking toward Belor, and by
nightfall they reached the banks of the Black River. Darius stood at its side,
looking into its swift currents. The early spring storms had swollen the river
beyond its winter’s bank. He watched his face reflecting in the dark moving
water. His features would appear and disappear as the water hit rocks and
turned into white foam. Two arms wrapped around him from the back. Leandra.

“We haven't spoken in a while.” Her soft, breathy voice whispered
behind him.

“I’ve been busy,” Darius said, hoping to make her leave. He wanted
to be left alone.

“Remember when we first met and we were sitting around the old
fire up in the Superstition Mountains camp?”

Darius smiled at the memory. He remembered how flustered he had been.

“Remember I said you would become a great leader for the King?
Well, Darius, you are.” Leandra shifted closer to him and put her head against
his shoulder.

Darius sighed and continued looking at the rushing waters. “I
know. Sometimes I feel so powerful when I am leading the men. I feel like I am
unconquerable, that nothing can stand in my way. But when I am by myself
looking into this raging river I think of how small and weak I am.”

Leandra leaned into him further. He could feel her warm breath on
his neck, forming a small swirl of steam in the cool night air. The sounds of
campfires crackled in the camp. All was secure and peaceful.

“You cannot conquer everything at once,” said Leandra as she
looked at the river. “But someday, Darius, you will.”

Darius brought his head back from hers, turned around, and put his
hand on her face. He drew Leandra in close and kissed her. She always seemed to
soften his anger. They stood holding each other in silence as it slipped into
the cool peacefulness of the night air.

Something in the back of his mind tried to warn him, but he pushed
it away and enjoyed the moment.

A PLAN

C
hristine Anderssn sat with some of her friends arguing about an
upcoming vote among the farmers. The petition they took to the King had been
ignored, and discontent was moving toward action on both sides.

“We must make a plan.”
Thomas stood in front of
his friends, skinny as a rail, flailing his arms around for emphasis. Having
grown up only a few farms over from Christine, he had known Anya, Karel, and
Christine for years, though he was two years older than any of them. Stephanie,
the other in the group, stood silently to the side. Her family was fairly new
to the area. “Soldiers have been sent to Belor and Denir to deal with trouble,
but he ignores us here in his own backyard.”

“I’m not going if she is going to be there,” Anya said, pointing
to Christine. “She’s stirring up more trouble. Things were quiet until that
boyfriend of hers from the city started hanging around. Ever since he left
there has not been any peace around here.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with that, Anya,” said Thomas. He
was always the first to stand up for Christine.

Christine had heard enough arguing and not enough doing. “Well,
while you two sit here and argue, I’m going to go do something about this
situation. I have some plans of my own to bring to the other farmers.”
Christine turned, making her long blonde hair swish around her head. She jumped
on Lightning, her Cremelino horse, and raced away.

Nice touch, alienating your friends now.

Christine slammed her mind shut against Lightning. She watched
Thomas and Anya over her shoulder in the fading distance.

Anya leaned close to Thomas, and Thomas stumbled backwards into a
log. He was so clueless to Anya’s advances. Of course, Anya advanced toward
anything that was male and had two legs these days. She was obsessed with
finding a husband. Christine faced forward again, gritted her teeth, and rode
harder.

An hour later, Christine sat away from her friends on the front
row of the gathering. They stood in one of the larger barns in the farmlands
and had made room for people to sit on bales of hay. Spring planting was just
around the corner, and sacks of seeds sat around the edges.

Nothing much was being decided on, so Christine stood and waited
for the crowd to silence. The death of her father still gave her some respect
and notice. “I think we should boycott the city from getting any more food from
us. Don’t sell them any of our stored vegetables or any beef or pork. They
can't go anywhere else at this time of year to get food. They make us store it
all and then demand the price for which they will buy it from us. Maybe when
they are starving they will listen to our demands.”

“She is right,” someone else argued. “The King doesn't care. I bet
he has enough food for months stored in that castle of his. But if his people
start to get hungry, maybe he will do something about the problem.”

“I agree with Christine. Something harsh has to be done. They need
to see we aren't just talking but that we are doing something,” said another
man from the back of the musty barn.

The air, still cool, caused Christine to wrap a wool cloak around
her shoulders. “Everyone must agree, because if we don't they will see our
weakness, and it will never work.”

A lady stood up from the side shadows. “But if we don't sell them
our food, we won't have any money. I am a widow with two children. I need to
think of them too.”

A heated discussion erupted.

“Everyone is too afraid to stand up and do anything.” Christine
walked back and forth in front of the group. She removed her cloak and strode
around to emphasize her point. “Think of us as a whole and what would be the
best, not just for ourselves. The only way we hold any power is to be united. If
we stop the food, they will be forced to listen or die.”

“Let them all die!” shouted someone as others joined in.

“What about the children?” asked the same widow in a worn-out
voice.

“Who invited you here, old lady?” asked one of the men. “I don't
remember seeing you around here. Who are you?”

The widow answered that she was a poor farmer from up north of the
farmlands. The man who had questioned her moved closer to her.

“I thought I knew everyone from up in that area. That is where my
family is from. Why don't I know you?”

The lady shrunk back into the shadows a little further. The room
had all turned toward her with their threatening looks.

“Let me see your hands!” demanded the man.

The old women started to turn them over but then pulled out a
knife from under her coat. She jumped onto a wooden fence in the barn and
shouted for them to get away. Shouts erupted at this imposter from the city.
Her hands showed no signs of farming or even much age. She ran for an open
window and dove through.

Christine’s eyes went wild, and she jumped to follow the lady. The
crowd seemed to freeze for a brief moment, as if all of them were deciding what
to do. As Christine neared the barn door, someone stepped in front of her and
grabbed her wrist.

“Christine, this has to stop.” It was her brother Jain. Though
barely sixteen years old now, he held her in a strong grip.

“Let go of me, Jain. Let me get that woman.” Christine’s eyes
darted toward where the woman had gone. She tried to pull away.

“Then what will you do... kill her?”

The room fell silent awaiting the answer.

“If that is what it takes.” Eyes blazing and hair messed up,
Christine's jaw tightened. Jain held her firm. “Whoever that lady was, she had
a good point. What about the children in the city? What if they starve?”

“Jain, don't you remember how the children in the city treated you
when you were a child? They teased you and beat you up. We need to get back at
them. To teach them a lesson.”

“By killing them?”

“If some die, maybe others will listen.” She pulled her arm away
from Jain and turned to the rest of the room. They stood in silence, watching
the two siblings argue the points they all held inside of them. “Would you
rather their children die or ours?” she asked.

“Why is death the only choice? Why is killing and fighting the
only choice?” Jain raised his voice.

“Jain, you always wanted to fight. What happened? Ever since our
father died you seem to have forgotten how to fight.”

“No, Christine you are wrong.” His voice boomed in anger, and his
neck muscles bulged. “I remember what we fight for. We fight for understanding,
not revenge. That is what our father would want. Remember, Christine! Remember
how peaceful he was. He would not agree to what you want to do. You used to
believe in peace. You always told me to stop fighting when I was younger. I see
that now. What happened?” Jain stood on the edge of tears.

“They killed our father!” Christine's eyes became moist as she
stood in defiance of everything her brother said to her. Couldn’t he understand
that she wasn’t the same person she was a year ago? A year ago, she had Darius
by her side, her father still lived, and food was stored in the barns. She
didn’t like the violence either, but what was she to do? She couldn’t stand
idly by any longer and watch the city stomp on the farmlands. “That is what
happened, Jain. They burned our farms and killed my father.”

“I hate that they killed him, Christine. I still cry for him at
night, hoping it was a bad dream. Hoping he will return. However, all of the
hoping, praying, or killing won't bring him back. You need to accept that and
just go on the best you can. Make things better for those younger than us, not
worse.” Jain walked closer to his sister and lowered his voice. “Look at the
good our father did, the kind of man he was. What would he want? He would not
want us to plan to kill with such openness and ease.” He paused. “Against the
army of Anikari, what can we do?”

Christine felt a pinprick of emotion welling up inside her, but
she couldn’t let it out. Not now. She had lost too much. She couldn’t be swayed
by her brother’s words. “Don't you understand what they have done to us and
what we need to do to get back at them? They can't get away with this. Jain, I
am your sister. Listen to me!”

“You are not my sister, Christine. My sister is warm,
understanding, kind and fun.” Jain held his dark, blond head low and started to
walk out. “What happened to my sweet sister?”

As Jain left the barn all eyes turned back to Christine. Christine
stood still for a moment, regained her composure, and asked, “Are we going to
listen to him? He is still a boy.” She walked toward the group. Silence filled
the cold evening.

Thomas came forward. “I think we’d better end tonight. It’s late.”
Others mumbled and echoed his words, and the crowd disbursed, leaving Christine
standing alone.

Two days later a wagon of winter vegetables approached the city
gate from the farmlands. Its wheels turned in slow rotations through the
rain-soaked road. The driver felt and heard a loud bang on the back of his wagon.
Turning back, he saw his vegetables rolling out of the back. Three hooded
figures on horseback smashed them before the driver could stop and get off. As
he ran to the back of his wagon, the three riders were already far down the
road— two brown horses led by a large white horse of extreme speed.

The man surveyed his smashed food as the guard from the city gate
came out to see what was happening. Few vegetables were salvageable. The farmer
had lost most of his wagon and most of his monthly income.

Over the next few weeks similar disturbances happened more
frequently at both the west and north gates. Grain stored in the large silos in
the farmlands was not able to make it safely to the city. The wagons came less
often. Only a few were fortunate enough to deliver to the city by going in the
middle of the night.

People in the city began to take armed guards out to stop the
bandits from spoiling their food, but they were not fast enough. The bandits
started attacking farther and farther away from the city. Soon all wagons
stopped, and the city had to pull out all of its food reserves in order to
continue to feed the people.

Caroline, Christine’s mother, approached her one day and reminded
her of spring planting and that they would need help this year with Stefen
gone.

“We don’t need to plant so much food anymore.” Christine said.

Her mother looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“We only need to plant for the farmlands. The city will not be
getting any more deliveries.” Christine’s hair was dirty and tied in a
ponytail, her cotton dress hanging loosely on her thinning frame.

“Christine, what are you doing?” Her mother’s voice pleaded. “You
need to eat. You are getting sick.

“I have to go, Mother.” Christine walked to the back door.
Lightning stood just outside the door, waiting for her. Jumping on top of
Lightning, Christine barely acknowledged her mother.

Christine, you can’t keep doing this.

“I am doing what needs to be done.” She spoke out loud to her
Cremelino. “Only a few help me now, but more will see the way soon. We stopped
most of the food deliveries.”

But the prophecy…

“I don’t understand your prophecies. What do I have to do with
them? I am a farm girl. No prophecy could include me. No prophecy could foresee
or even care about us here in the farmlands.” They rode at a quick trot back
toward the city gate. Christine had to make sure no other deliveries were made.

The prophecy is about Darius.

Christine tightened her lips, keeping the tears inside. Nine
months without Darius. Nine months without his laughter, his strength, his
comfort. She still remembered his arms wrapped around her. It seemed he had
pulled fear and frustration right out of her, leaving her with a feeling of
peace and contentment. Oh, how she wished she had him with her now.

She was doing all she could to make things right, but no one
seemed to understand, least of all her family and friends. Was she doing what
was right? She was terrified of losing more than she already had, but she
couldn’t sit still and do nothing.

So every day, with a few additional supporters, she would stop
deliveries of food to the city. It was working. People in the city were
starting to feel the pinch.

The King sent a few soldiers out to the farmlands to reason. Some
of them started to negotiate, but Christine knew it wouldn’t do any good. They
needed to make the city hurt before they got some concessions. The King, with
men in Denir and Belor, couldn’t spare many men to stop Christine and her band
of crusaders. Many of the farmers did not agree with her methods, but when
pressed for names from the guards, the other farmers held their tongue and
protected their fellow farmers.

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

Thomas, Karel, Anya, and Stephanie were together one evening
discussing Christine and what they knew she was doing. Anya leaned against
Thomas, who leaned against a wall next to the stone fireplace in his small farm
home. Stephanie and Karel sat in two wooden chairs next to the hearth. They
held their hands toward the small fire, warming them from the early spring
chill hanging in the evening air. No one spoke at the moment. The fire seemed
to consume their attention. A loud pop sent a spark onto the floor, jarring
Thomas from his thoughts.