The Path Of Destiny (14 page)

“How do you know this information?” questioned Richard.

“I hunt in the meadows and saw a group of Belorians
practicing. They looked well-trained. They were disciplined and excited. A very
tall man led them. He had dark auburn hair and seemed to pulse with some type
of power. They did everything he asked them to.” The man paused and then added,
“They wouldn’t really attack us, would they?”

“That will be enough for now,” said the King, as he motioned
for Richard to give him the gold. “You can go now. Your service is appreciated,
but keep this information to yourself”

After the man left, King Edward spoke to Richard. “Have
someone follow him. If what he says is true, shut off all food and trade into
Belor and organize our soldiers to march to the city immediately. I want to
find out who this man is who thinks he can defy me!”

“Yes, Edward,” agreed Richard.

“And, Richard, have someone glance at that petition for me,”
ended the King. “I am sure they will be back next month.”

Richard raised his eyebrows at the King, but said nothing. 

THE TEST

“
P
ush yourself, Darius. Come
on now. Don't take your eyes away. Concentrate. That's good. Don't look down.”

Darius gazed across at his present opponent, the man who had
become his sword master since coming to the training camp. Cray Dreydon was
about three inches shorter than Darius, but fifty pounds of well-toned muscle
heavier. His short gray hair and dark-skinned face made him seem a bit younger
than rumor said he was. Someone had told Darius that Cray was sixty years old.
By looking at his stocky build, one would never have believed him to be one of
the best swordsmen in the Realm. Neither his size nor age hindered his
movements. He was as quick as a jackrabbit fleeing into his hole from a fox.

Sweat poured down Darius’s face, slightly blurring his
vision. This high in the mountains the autumn air was cool in his lungs. To
become a team commander, this was the last test to endure. He had become a
virtual master of the sword since coming to the Elite camp in the Superstition
Mountains. He felt the power rise up in him again. It seemed to happen more
often now, and it felt more familiar. Each night he practiced trying to
recognize it and control it. It was hard not having anyone to show him what to
do.

Darius pushed the power back down at the moment. He wanted
to win this test on his own abilities. He didn’t trust his newfound powers yet,
but he trusted himself. Anyway, the sword on its own still maintained a type of
link to Darius even when his power wasn’t active. He needed to keep it from
shining too brightly. The few times he hadn’t controlled the brightness had
brought too much talk and rumors around the camp.

The two stood up on the wall, as it was called, consisting
of a wooden bridge built between two trees. It spanned forty feet in length and
hung suspended twenty feet in the air. It was only two feet wide, which didn't
leave much room to maneuver around an opponent. You had to attack him straight
on.

Just a few more minutes. I have to hold on for a few more
strokes
.

Darius knew he needed to concentrate. Most of the group that
had come up into the mountains with him stood twenty feet below, watching and
cheering, though he wondered briefly whom they cheered for. His dedication to
his skills had brought grudging respect, but he had not taken much time to
develop friendships.

The adrenaline pushed through his veins as he sliced forward
with his gold sword, reflecting orange in the setting sun. He felt proud for
being the first to make it this far. He had to last only a few more minutes
without falling in order to complete this final test.

His arms and legs ached, almost cramping from the tenseness.
He should be more relaxed, but it was hard while facing Cray. He lunged forward
as he glimpsed an open spot. To his surprise, it caught Cray off balance. Of
course, the end of his sword was dulled with a wrapping of burlap, so no one
would be hurt. Darius became one with his training as he lunged forward again
into Cray’s right side.

Cray’s foot slipped and he began to fall off the high-strung
bridge. Darius gasped and slowed for a moment as Cray hung on with one hand.
Men on the ground stood below, ready to catch him if needed. Darius looked at
him hanging there in the air. The crowd grew silent.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do. Cray had taught
him to always continue the fight until it was over, but this was his teacher.
He reached down to help him up, and Cray used his sword as a hatchet to smack
it across Darius’s left foot, making Darius stumble and almost slip himself. He
peeked down into Cray’s eyes. The sparkle in them made them look as if they
were enjoying a private joke. Darius decided there would be no second chances,
and he kicked off Cray’s hands with his boots and watched him fall through the
air.

He stood breathless for a moment, watching the man tumble in
silence towards a group of men ready to catch him. Time stood still as he
argued within himself over and over about what he should have done.

Some of the men threw pointed dirty looks at Darius, but
silence continued for a moment as the crowd waited for Cray's reaction. The old
swordsman had never been thrown from the wall before, at least not that any of
them had heard. They watched and Darius watched. Cray took his time standing
back up. Darius’s heart was beating hard, from a combination of his ordeal
along with the guilt of what he had done. Cray wasn’t a bad person. He was not
the enemy. He was a hard trainer, but he always treated Darius fairly.

Cray looked around at the crowd and then up at Darius.
“Behold your new team commander.”

The crowd applauded and cheered.

Darius held up his hands in the air and soaked up the
cheers. It sounded good. The roar of the crowd was addicting. Once he had made
the decision to do his best, he had thrown all his energy into his training,
and now it had paid off.

King Edward through his trainers, had now chosen him, Darius
San Williams, to be the first team commander in the King’s Elite Army. He had
pushed himself, proving to everyone that no one would get the best of him. Now
he would be always honored for being the first.

He looked down into the faces of the men he had come up into
the mountains with. Some he had known before; most he had not. After letting
his power slip into his sword a few times in camp, there had been whispered
talk and remembrances of when his sword had glowed in the castle the day they
all were chosen. Some, because of his age, thought he was only there because he
was the privileged son of a councilor. Some feared his abilities. But more and
more some were allying themselves with him out of respect for his accomplishments
and drive.

His mind returned to the present and he looked down again at
the still-cheering crowd. He had shown them what he could do. He had shown them
who was in control. But this would be just the beginning.
Soon I will be
ready to protect the Realm with an army behind me!

Darius slowed his descent so as not to show the soreness in
his legs and arms, and he climbed down the tree ladder. Cray continued speaking
for a few moments. Cray would never miss an opportunity to teach something.

He had probably talked to Cray more than anyone else in the
time he had been in the mountains. They had had some good talks about traveling
the Realm. Cray had been everywhere, but he never seemed to answer why. He
walked with a slight limp that was almost unnoticeable to someone not paying
attention. Darius didn't see anyone pushing him around. This was not due to his
physical size, but to his sense of being. Others seemed to walk in respect
around the man. Someone had heard that he had been a general at a young age in
King Charles’s army.

“Darius has been the first, but I hope not the last. The
King has great plans for all of you. Many of you should be able to take a
command position on a permanent basis before we leave from here. What you saw
today was some of the finest swordsmanship I have ever witnessed. Each of you
should become as good.” He paused as he peered into each of their eyes. “But
don't think I will fall as easily the next time. There has only been one other
with as much skill. He too was a man of extraordinary talent . . .” He paused a
moment, as if remembering. “Anyway . . . I expect a number of you to challenge
me soon.”

Darius came down to stand next to Cray and shake his hand.

“An awards ceremony will be held three nights from now,”
Cray announced, and he walked away. The others came around to Darius to
congratulate him. At first his shoulders tensed with the attention, but
eventually he relaxed and accepted the glory and accolades.

The ceremony boosted his pride even more. He was rewarded
the first junior team command of a group of twenty-five other young men. He
looked down at them, sitting on the ground, from where he stood behind the
fire. Darius released a little of his power outwardly. Sometimes his power
needed release. It was just enough to give an additional glow around him, but
not enough that they wouldn’t rationalize it away as a trick of the firelight.
It held their attention for a few heartbeats and solidified their acceptance of
him as their commander.

Darius glanced behind the group. Cray stood against a tree,
arms folded. It was hard to make out his facial expression in the dark, but
Darius saw him shake his head and walk off. Darius let go of the power.

After the ceremony ended and most of the men had gone back
to their duties, Darius sat next to the cooling embers of the fire, thinking by
himself about what he would do next. His breath floated out with a white mist
in the cool mountain air. He put a few more logs on the fire and sat back down.
He turned his head at a sound and noticed a mountain pine with giggles coming
from behind its large branches. Two young women were talking and looking
towards him. When they got his attention, they came out from behind the tree
and approached him.

“Hi, Darius,” said one of the girls with a cute, flirty
smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Darius looked down and shifted himself on the log
he sat on. He always felt shy around women. There were about ten girls in the
camp to help cook and sew and clean clothing.

“My name is Leandra Roux,” said the second. She stood closer
to him than he was comfortable with.

Darius repeated the hello unenthusiastically, then added,
“How do you know me?”
That sounded unintelligent!

“Oh, everyone knows you,” laughed the first girl. She was
too full of giggles for Darius. She wasn’t much older than fifteen or sixteen,
and with her dull brown hair set in curls, she seemed even younger. She wore a
plain apron with her hair pulled back. He guessed she worked in the kitchens.

“Everyone in camp talks about you,” continued Leandra as she
sat down next to him on a neighboring log, her leg touching his. Turning back
to the other girl, she motioned for her to leave. “You need to get back and
finish your chores, Cynthia.”

“Yes, Leandra.” Cynthia’s smile turned down into a pout.

Leandra glared at her and Cynthia scuttled away.

The fire popped and crackled, sending a few sparks into the
air. The evening was starless, with a blanket of clouds and mist settling over
the mountains. Leandra shivered in the cool air. Darius shifted with
discomfort, but he offered her his new officer’s jacket. She draped it over her
shoulders, her short brown hair laying slightly over the collar, her neck
looking smooth and supple. She looked right at him, into his eyes.

Her large, almost-round eyes were brown, soft, and inviting.
They were the highlight of her fair face. He turned away, then slowly looked
back. She was still staring right at him, and now she added a devious smile to
her lips. He noticed the dimples for the first time.

“You are an incredibly handsome man, Darius.” She moved even
closer to him. Her body was warm and radiated a slight hint of lilac. “I have
been watching you since you arrived.”

Darius was sweating with nervousness, but also shaking with
excitement. Her eyes penetrated into him, while her perfumed scent swept the
night air around him. She was very beautiful and kept herself in shape. She
dressed in a bright-colored bodice that was indicative of the city of Mar. It
fit over a long silk blouse. A skirt of geometric patterns accented her obvious
femininity, riding a little higher in length than was proper in the capital
city.

“You . . . don't really know me,” said Darius, trying to
regain his composure. He was not used to being handled quite this way. He hoped
none of the other men had observed how he was acting. Not very commander-like
or manly.
Why me? Why do I get so nervous?
Kelln had always been more
comfortable around girls.

“I saw the way you knocked old Cray down a few days ago. I
watch the way others walk around you. You are a noble and brave man; a
warrior.”

Darius laughed a little, as if trying to thin the emotion.
“I am not even twenty yet, Leandra. Hardly a warrior. And Cray is an old man.”

“Age does not matter in bravery or command. All it takes is
a certain type of man. I can tell that the King picked the right man in you.”
She smiled at him and he once again became all flustered. “You will be the
first commander. You will always be the first, no matter when others gain a
command. You will run the King’s Elite Army, Darius. You will go down in
history for this. A new breed of warrior.”

Darius thought for a moment about what she was saying. He
surmised that she was trying to flatter him for her own reasons. Yet she was
right. He had gained the first command. Anger built for a moment as he tried to
figure out if he was indeed in charge, or if the political machine of the Realm
had manipulated him again. He felt his power well up inside him. It always
happened in response to his anger. He thought about how much he still disliked
the King and his father for sending him here without any notice or choice in
the matter.

Darius laughed.

“What is so amusing, Darius?”

“Oh, nothing,” he smiled. He thought about how he would
eventually confront the King as full commander of his Elite Army and with his
magical powers developed. Then there would be a reckoning.

“Darius,” smiled Leandra, “you must find something
humorous.”

Darius stood up. “You are right, Leandra. I will be
commander of the greatest army the King will ever have. If he only understood
what that meant, he may regret bringing me here.”

Leandra gave him a strange look. He didn’t care. She didn’t
understand all of this. She was a pretty girl who was lonely. She stood up next
to him and reached for his hands. She was taller than he had first thought. He
felt a tingling sensation inside of him that he hadn't experienced since
Christine . . .