Heady thoughts swirled his mind.
This is what I have been
looking for. The power is mine now. I won this battle. My father and the King
sent me away from my friends with no warning. They have kept me from Christine,
and they sit instead with their nobles and make decisions, not understanding
our people. Now I have risen above all the other recruits. Now I will choose my
own path!
Leandra walked towards him. He stood and took her willingly
into his arms this time, pushing thoughts of Christine far away. She was not
here now, and he might never see her again. It pained him to think so, but it
was true. Leandra had been nice to him and had complimented him, and he needed
someone who would stand by him among his men. She cleaned up at the governor’s
private home and now stood in a resplendent long silk gown of pale blue. Dark
hair in curls cascaded across her bare shoulders. It seemed to be part of the
expected prize for being victorious. His power made it seem natural to have
such a beautiful woman in his arms. Darius held Leandra close and kissed her
with power and passion. She giggled and sighed under his attention.
The next day a stand was erected and local dignitaries
praised Darius and the King’s army. Darius spoke briefly at the end. He praised
the courage of his men, under his leadership, leaving out any mention of the
King. To add to the already growing legend, he raised his sword high in the
air, and let it glow with a bright light. “Hail the glory of the Realm. May
peace prevail in its borders and understanding reign from within. ”
The crowd yelled and clapped in a deafening roar, echoing
back, “Hail Darius, Commander of the Realm.”
Standing in the back of the crowd, held by two of Darius’s
men, stood Mezar, the captured Gildanian commander. Darius looked directly at
him and let his power continue to build. His grey eyes grew brighter and a hazy
glow intensified around him. What was power good for if he couldn’t intimidate
and glory in its sensation? Mezar’s eyes held surprise and awe, and in
deference to the power he gave a short bow of his head to his captor.
Darius returned the acknowledgement with a short nod of his
own head. Mezar didn’t seem like such a bad guy. He just happened to be on the
wrong side of the battle. Anyone opposite him would be on the wrong side. That
included Mezar, and depending on their actions, maybe his father or the King.
Darius would now be his own man and make his own decisions.
He had finally seen that it was anger and purpose that gave him the power to do
what he wanted to do and be what he wanted to be. He would restore the glory of
the Realm and choose the path of his own destiny!
THE PLAN
K
ing Edward DarSan Montere
paced around his private study. His head hurt. It seemed to always hurt these
days. His kingdom seemed to be falling apart around him. The farmers and their
petty petition, the lunatic preacher in Belor, and the conniving Gildanians in
the south. There were even rumors that a prince of the Kingdom of Arc was
having practice maneuvers near the border.
“My Lord, it’s freezing in here,” Richard said as if stating
the obvious.
The curtains and casements were opened wide. The fresh, cool
air of late winter helped the King to think. “Richard, what is happening to the
Realm? We had peace for so long, and now events seem to be collapsing the Realm
from all sides.”
“We have become too complacent, I fear. The children are
soft and don’t take their studies seriously, the nobles only care for their
coin, and the army has poor recruits,” Richard answered.
“Except for my Elite Army,” the King said, turning around
and facing his senior councilor. “They were handpicked to be different. To be
the best.”
“Yes, it seems that way. Though based on the information and
rumors we have received over the last two weeks about the battle in Denir,
there was not much fighting to test their prowess and combat skills.”
“Still a decisive victory led by your son, Darius.” The King
fell down hard into his overstuffed red-velvet chair. He let out a long breath
of air to calm himself.
“Yes, my son,” Richard echoed. “What do we do with him now?
You heard the rumors as I have. A glowing sword, strength more than many men,
and arrogance.”
“Rumors are all they are, Richard. Others are just jealous
of his position.”
“Edward.” Richard slipped back to a less formal name with
his old friend. “I am still not comfortable with his future. He hasn’t been
trained for this. You should take another wife, a young woman who can quickly
give you children—an heir to the throne.”
“We have already been through this. I should never have sat
on the throne. I need to restore the throne to the proper line. It is the right
thing to do.”
“But the right thing to do is not always the best thing to
do,” Richard reminded the King.
Edward poured himself some wine and sat back, swirling it
around in his mouth a few times before swallowing. “Ahh, my friend, that is one
of the oldest arguments alive for a king to consider. Right versus best. I must
admit we have chosen the best over right sometimes for the good of the kingdom,
but not with this. This was an injustice that needs to be righted. For the good
of the Realm. For the strength of our kingdom.”
“So back to the question at hand. What do we do with my son
and his army?”
The King sat up straight. “It is not his army, Richard, it
is mine! And he will need to remember that he follows my orders in all things.”
“The rumors say otherwise. They are calling him the
Commander of the Realm, and referring to
his
Elite Army.”
“It is a dangerous balancing act we play at, Richard. He is
just living in the glory of his first victory. Let him have a moment.”
Richard growled low. “You do not know my son. He cares
nothing for politics, but he is smart. He has naïve ideals at how things should
work in the world and in the Realm. He will use this to get something that he
wants. Probably to get in the good graces of that outsider girl.”
“Richard! You are as bad as all the merchants and other
nobles. Have some respect for these hard working people. They provide us a
great service in growing our food and handling our cattle.”
“But they are still outsiders, disorganized and weak. They
rebelled against the throne once.” Spittle came from the force of Richard’s
words. “I will not have my son stirring up trouble and encouraging them in a
new rebellion.”
King Edward stood again and walked to the window in the
direction of the farmlands. Through the low-lying clouds he could see the
outline of the leafless trees and a few brown fields. “They are only outsiders
because we allowed it. They are getting organized. Have you so soon forgotten
their petition?”
“Forget these farmers for now, my King. They can be dealt
with later.”
“Maybe you are right.” The King sat down again and thought
for a few moments. “Let’s bring your son back here to Anikari, with his
prisoners in tow. We will parade his victory around the city, build up his
reputation, then send him down to Belor to quickly and decisively take care of
that problem. We will allow him to gain popularity with the people, but under
our terms and direction. He must be ready when the time comes, Richard, but not
be in a position to take power any sooner than that.”
“We should hold the council and let all weigh in on these
matters. I know we can’t say anything about Darius, but which wars we fight,
the petition of the outsiders, this Preacher; they should be consulted in these
matters, my Lord. We need the other councilors’ thoughts to make sure we take
the right course. Why don’t you convene a full council to deal with these
problems? You can’t handle everything yourself. That is probably what is giving
you these headaches.”
Edward drank more wine. “Richard, I don’t trust the
council.”
“What? You appointed them. Who don’t you trust?”
“I am not sure, but until I do, I cannot hold a council and
share information. I worry some are sympathizers with the preacher from Belor,
and others may be dealing with the Gildanians or Arcs. But most of all I fear
the ones that are undermining my position as king and are trying to set
themselves up as the next ruler when I die.”
“Then what can we do?” Richard said in exasperation. “Do you
have a plan?”
“Yes. We trust in your son. He must learn to be a leader on
his own and to gain the respect of the men.”
“My son?” Richard bellowed. “That is your plan?”
King Edward DarSan Montere, rested his head back on his
high, stuffed chair and whispered so softly that the councilor had to lean in
to hear. “That is my plan Richard. We must continue to prepare him to be the
next king of the Realm.”
###
Read
The Path of Decisions
,
Book II of the Cremelino Prophecy
to continue the adventures of Darius, Christine,
Kelln, Mezar, and their friends.
* * *
Mike was born in California and
has lived in multiple states from the west coast to the east coast. He cannot
remember a time when he wasn’t reading a book. At school, home, on vacation, at
work at lunch time, and yes even a few pages in the car (at times when he just
couldn’t put that great book down). Though he has read all sorts of genres he
has always been drawn to fantasy. It is his way of escaping to a simpler time
filled with magic, wonders and heroics of young men and women.
Other than reading, Mike has
always enjoyed the outdoors. From the beaches in Southern California to the
warm waters of North Carolina. From the waterfalls in the Northwest to the
Rocky Mountains in Utah. Mike has appreciated the beauty that God provides for
us. He also enjoys hiking, discovering nature, playing a little basketball or
volleyball, and most recently disc golf. He has a lovely wife who has always
supported him, and three beautiful children who have been the center of his
life.
Mike began writing stories in
elementary school and moved on to larger novels in his early adult years. He
has worked in corporate finance for most of his career. That, along with
spending time with his wonderful family and obligations at church has made it difficult
to find the time to truly dedicate to writing. In the last few years as his
children have become older he has returned to doing what he truly enjoys –
writing!