The Path Of Destiny (15 page)

Christine
! He had missed her so much in the
beginning. Training, however, had been grueling and exhausting, and soon he had
found himself thinking about her less and less. Not that he didn’t want to
think about her, but the pain was still too much. He had boxed up his feelings
for her and hidden them away deep in his heart and soul. Now, once again, he
felt an ache grow in his heart. He pushed it back down, deep down, and sealed
it with his power.

He didn't know when he would be back to Anikari, or how
things would turn out when he did. With the power getting stronger in him, he
may have to go somewhere else to learn to control it better. She would be
better off without him, he justified. It hurt him to think it. He still cared
for her, and even loved her, but being around someone with his growing
abilities might be too dangerous for her.

Darius turned and glanced at Leandra again. She leaned into
him, stood up on her tip toes, and offered him a soft kiss. Darius hung there
for a moment, suspended in time. Thoughts of Christine tried to break through
the power he had sealed them under. He cleared his mind once again and with an
abrupt move pulled away. It was hard. She smelled like lilac and her kiss made
him tingle.

A few cabins away a voice called for Leandra. She gave him
another small kiss, said good-bye, and ran off towards an older woman’s voice
calling her in. Darius stood for a moment, watching her exquisite silhouette
grow smaller against the cabin’s small candlelight until she faded into the
misty darkness. He felt confused. He didn't even know this girl. She surely
didn't know him, except for who he was here. Darius knew there was more to him
than what she saw. Or was that who he was now? Just a commander in the King’s
army? Is this what life had in store for him now?

Darius turned and walked back towards his cabin, noticing
but ignoring Cray standing behind the corner of the firewood pile with a
disapproving look on his face.

The next day Cray lectured him on fooling around with the
girls. He reminded Darius there was no time for extra activities.

“King Edward will be wanting this group ready soon, Darius,
and you still have much to learn. You may be good at the sword and the bow, but
now you must learn how to use your mind to survive.”

“What do you mean?”

“This army is expected to be small and nimble. To go places
where other larger armies cannot. Later in the winter you will be sent into the
mountains alone, without weapons or food. You will be allowed to carry one
small knife and enough water for one day. You will be dropped off days away
from here and required to find your way back . . . alive.”

Darius didn't like the way he emphasized the last word. It
made him shiver in the morning air.

Cray moved to take Darius’s sword, but a strong hand stopped
him.

“What are you doing?” Darius's mouth tightened.

“Set your sword down. We have other things to learn today.”

Darius put his hand on the pommel of the sword. “It’s fine
where it is.”

Cray turned his head to one side and shrugged his shoulders.
“Seems hard for you to put that thing down.”

“It’s comforting to me,” Darius said with a smile.

Cray laughed out loud. “Well, better a sword than a girl I
guess.”

Darius joined in the laughter, and soon Cray proceeded to
teach him about various plants that might help him survive. Many of the things
that Cray taught Darius he had already learned in school, yet Cray seemed
determined to teach him again. He was nothing if not thorough. With patience
each day Cray led him around the camp this way, asking questions and awaiting
answers.

One day after a small argument on the edibility of a
particular thorny plant, Darius strutted off with a pout. After a dozen feet,
Darius turned around. Cray followed him with his eyes.

“Cray, it looks like you have seen a ghost.”

“Something from a long time ago. The way you turn and move
looks so familiar, like someone I once knew. He was a little older than you
when I last saw him.”

“A friend?”

“Yes, one of my closest friends.”

“What happened?” Darius moved closer. It was rare to get
Cray to open up about his past.

“We used to practice sword fighting together.” Cray rubbed
his stubbled chin and looked thoughtful. “He also possessed other special gifts
that were just beginning to develop.”

Cray had not answered his question about what had happened.
“What special gifts?”

Cray lifted his greying eyebrows over his dark eyes and gave
him a look that made Darius look down.

When Darius looked up again he steeled his face. “Let’s get
back to the plants, Cray.”

Before Darius knew what was happening, Cray picked up a
large rock and threw it in a straight line at Darius. With instinct taking
over, Darius threw up his hands and let his power deflect the rock. He sent out
a thrust of air that pushed the rock back to the ground between the two of
them.

Cray laughed out loud.

“You’re crazy, you know that? Crazy! You could have killed
me.” Darius breathed heavily.

“Like I said,
special gifts
.” Cray’s voice grew soft
and quiet.

“But how did you know?”

Cray walked over and picked up the rock. “As I told you, I
knew someone once with the same abilities.”

“What happened to him?” Darius asked for the second time.
Maybe there was hope for him. Maybe he could be accepted in Anikari with magic.

“His father told me personally he died at sea in a battle.”

Darius remained silent.

“At least that was what we were told.” Cray said in a soft
whisper so quiet that Darius strained to hear him.

“Just so you know, I didn’t use it to beat you on the
bridge,” Darius said defensively.

Cray raised his eyebrows, “Oh I know. I know. You beat me
fair and square that day. Though I don’t know how much longer you can maintain
the difference, Darius. You have to let it become you, a part of you. You can’t
pretend it isn’t there most of the time. It will tear you apart.”

“You don’t understand how it is,” Darius snapped back. He
broke a branch off a leafless birch tree and threw it end over end through the
woods. “I’m a freak. I’m always aware when it will flare up, though I am
getting better at controlling it. The worst part is, I don’t know what it can
do. Like that rock you threw at me. I didn’t know how to stop it until I had
to.”

“What choice do you have?”

“Why do you act as if it is fine? Most of the Realm fears
magic, and for good reason. The wizards almost destroyed the Realm.”

Cray walked up closer to Darius. “It was not always that
way. I remember my grandfather telling me about stories from his grandfather.
Magic used to be a part of life in the Realm, Darius. Just like it is in other
kingdoms around us. Someday it will be that way again.”

“That could be dangerous talk, Cray. I have heard my
father’s aversion to magic, and his thoughts follow the King’s.

“And I take it you follow all the same ideas as your
father?” Cray’s eyes twinkled in amusement.

“You know I don’t, Cray. This is crazy. I don’t even know
who I am anymore.”

“My friend wondered the same thing.”

“And look where it got him,” Darius retorted back.

A look of pain slid across Cray’s face.

“Sorry,” Darius apologized. He felt bad for causing his
trainer pain. Cray wasn’t a bad person.

Cray grew more serious. “It’s in you. It is a part of your
reflexes, Darius. I would guess there is no limit to what you might be able to
do, and that is a danger for all of us. You are a dangerous person, Darius. A
very dangerous person indeed. But maybe one the Realm needs at this time and
place.”

THE PREACHER

“
D
ad!” Kelln yelled. “Get
away from him.”

His father didn't answer. Kelln went closer. His dad fought
with a man half his age.
What kind of madness is this?
His dad was a
master at making swords, but not at using them. The soldier lifted his sword to
strike his father, who had fallen to the ground. Out of instinct, Kelln drew
his bow and arrow and shot. He watched the soldier fall to the ground. His
father rolled away, got up, and continued fighting another Realm soldier
without even looking at Kelln.

Kelln stood dazed. He didn’t see the battle raging around
him anymore. He had never killed another person before. The bile rose in his
throat and he tried to breathe in deeply to keep from vomiting. He leaned over,
hands on his knees, trying to stay conscious. He was numb and dizzy.

He had killed a Realm soldier! One from his own city of
Anikari, most likely. He wondered if he knew his family. He stepped backwards a
few steps, watching the continuing fight, but not really seeing what was going
on around him. The screams faded away as his heart pounded louder.
What am I
doing here?

 It had been four long months since arriving in Belor. Over
the last month Kelln had seen the Preacher showing off his powers more often.
First it was moving something heavy, and then catching a thief. Now he was
rumored to be on the front lines with air and fire coming from his fingertips
against the soldiers. Kelln feared him.

Kelln thought of his family, his father, and Alessandra as
he began to move away from the fighting. He felt numb and couldn’t think well.
He wondered where Alessandra was. She looked different now from when he had
first met her. Her eyes were still riveting and her smile astonishing. However,
after they had arrived in Belor, he had noticed her blind following of the
Preacher. The things she said in defense of him didn’t make sense. It made her
less attractive, but more than ever he wanted to convince her of the cruel man
the Preacher really was.

Back in his present mind, he deliberated with himself again
what he was doing in Belor. Fighting swirled all around him and he began to
walk back towards the city. He needed to leave the madness and get help. Darius
would help him. He had tried to send notes, but he never received a response
back. They hadn’t let him leave in person, but he would have to find a way to
sneak out. He couldn’t handle it any more. He and Darius could talk to Darius’s
father and explain what was going on.

“Kill him!” A command came from a Belorian commander to jar
Kelln from his scattered thoughts. He stopped and turned around. He watched as
a young Realm soldier ran through the line of Belorian men and continued on
towards where Kelln stood. Kelln heard the others yelling for him to kill him
and not let him through.

“Please,” the soldier begged. “Help me.”

Time seemed to blur. Kelln tried to force his mind to
concentrate. Somehow, he could not kill another man. Especially not even
knowing for sure, or believing, what he was fighting for. He tried to step
aside as the man pushed him down while running for the city. Kelln just watched
as others ran past him to chase the young soldier. He would never get away, he
thought.

Someone came up to Kelln and grabbed him. “Why didn't you
kill him? He may reach the city now.”

Kelln just stood speechless.

“Oh, you are the sword maker’s son from Anikari. Maybe you
are with them,” the man continued as others gathered around.

Soon the skirmish ended, with the Realm soldiers moving back
down the road. They hadn’t overtaken the city, but they didn’t leave either.
Kelln surmised that they were waiting for reinforcements to come.

His father walked up to him. “What happened, Kelln?”

“I killed a soldier to save you.” His voice felt numb.

“Yes, that was good work, son,” his father praised. “But why
not the other one?”

Kelln didn't answer and some of the others started calling
him a traitor. His father waited for an answer.

“I don't know,” Kelln said, looking up at the crowd. “I
don't know about any of this. I don't know who is right.”

Men grabbed him and took him off to the Preacher. His father
looked like he might step in to stop them, but then he turned and walked away.
Kelln was still confused over the entire matter. His father had been so sure of
himself an hour before, when they had received the message to go and bring
swords to the front line. His father had pulled him along, trying to explain to
him the importance of what they were doing. Kelln still didn’t see the purpose.
It just didn’t look like a religious issue, or that the Belorians were being
treated badly. This felt political, and full of power plays. The kind of
activities that Darius used to talk about that his father would be involved in.

They dragged him to the Preacher. With hands tied behind his
back like a common criminal, Kelln faced the large man. He had never met anyone
in his entire life who scared him as much as this man. He had watched and
observed the Preacher over the last few months and found no redeeming
qualities. He had even tried to get letters to Anikari, but no help came, so he
was sure they were intercepted and never delivered.

“You are the sword maker’s son, correct?”

“Yes,” was all Kelln could say. He knew that the Preacher
knew who he was.

“From Anikari?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a spy?” The Preacher leaned down to look Kelln
straight in the eyes.

Kelln felt some kind of hypnotic power forcing him to
answer. Luckily there was nothing to hide from the man. “No. I am not a spy.”

“We have been looking for a spy among us who seems to want
to tell those in Anikari our plans. It would be a most unpleasant thing to find
one of my loyal subjects not so loyal. War is dangerous, and someone could get
hurt very easily.”

Kelln felt blood drain from his face and wondered if today
was going to be his last.

The Preacher took a few steps away from Kelln and turned his
back. Others in the room looked on at the proceedings with a mix of wonder and
fear in their eyes. Kelln wondered how many of them really believed in this
dangerous usurper of power, and how many were kept back by fear.

Suddenly the Preacher turned around, and with a loud voice
bellowed, “Why did you not kill that soldier when you were commanded?” The
Preacher seemed to grow taller. His face reddened and the effects of power
seemed to ripple around his body. “Answer carefully, because your answer could
determine your earthly fate.”

Kelln wondered what he could say that would save him at this
point. The power of the Preacher bore into him, forcing the words from his
throat. He could not lie. “I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t believe in your
cause. I never have.”

The admission left gasps around the palace room. They
couldn’t believe that someone would admit as much to their leader.

Kelln glanced around at the others, a sorry lot of
followers, he thought. If you couldn’t think for yourself, what good were you?
The crowd seemed to move back to the edges of the room, the smooth, plastered
walls hitting their backs. Gold lamps and crystal vases sat above them on
shelves. Kelln shifted his feet on the large, ornate rug in the middle of the
room.

The Preacher sat down on his throne. Power sizzled in the
air. He pointed a long finger at Kelln and flicked his wrist to the side.

Kelln began to feel lightheaded. His heart beat faster. He
was hardly able to hold his head up, it was so heavy. He fought it, but to no
success. He couldn’t think clearly. He remembered the Preacher telling him
something else, but he didn’t know how he had answered. Everything seemed to be
closing in around him. His vision went dark and he fainted.

The next thing Kelln remembered was looking up from the cold
stone ground in a strange room. The light from the one small window shone
through the bars and gave Kelln enough light to distinguish he was lying on the
floor of the dungeon. He sat on the ground a few moments longer, letting his
head clear. He heard footsteps coming down a hall, and Alessandra appeared with
a few pieces of meat and bread.

“I'm sure glad you’re here,” smiled Kelln with as much
excitement as he could muster up. “What happened?”

“Here is some food for you. You've been out quite a few hours.”

“Where am I?” Kelln tried to rise to his feet, but he sat
back down when the ache returned to his head. He remembered feeling strange
when the Preacher had flicked his hands towards him. He had done something to
Kelln. He had used the power on him. It made Kelln’s skin crawl.

“You are in prison for being a traitor.” Alessandra’s eyes
flashed in anger.

“But I . . .”

“Until you have a trial, you will stay here,” she
interrupted.

Alessandra turned to walk away and stopped. Kelln looked up
at her as if hoping for some type of compassion. “The man you let get away
killed two people before they stopped him. You should have stopped him when you
had a chance.” She turned around without waiting for Kelln’s answer and walked
back down the hall.

Kelln’s stomach knotted up and he felt nauseous. He had let
the soldier kill two others.
It was my fault. I could have stopped him.
Would
it have been better to kill the man and let his own conscience suffer that he
had killed someone else? The soldier had just been doing what he was told and
was trying to uphold the law in defense against Belor. The questions of ethics
whirled around in his foggy mind. He could only control his actions, not
others.

Kelln scooted on his hands and knees to a far corner of the
cold, damp cell, sat up, and wrapped his arms around his legs, curling himself
into a small ball. The room seemed larger than he had first thought. He was
scared and alone in a strange city. He thought of his friend Darius. And how he
would react in a situation like this. Kelln tried to find hope in his thoughts
but for once he couldn’t.

Kelln tried to remember the confident self he had once been,
but he wasn’t able to find the carefree, laughter-filled young man anymore.
Belor had taken his life away from him. The city had sucked him dry of all
sense of adventure and rational thinking.

Am I going to die? Why didn't my father help me?

All he pictured in his mind was himself, now a timid,
fearful young man, shaking with fear of what would happen to him now.

He had not found God in Belor.