The Path Of Peace (The Cremelino Prophecy Book 3) (5 page)

Darius was about to ask why the
governor had sent his teen daughter out on the road by herself, but he sighed
as he remembered her defensive posture as his power flared. She had powers
also. The others gathered around him, awaiting his decision.

“Your Majesty.” Roland came
forward. “We can go around Mar, west of the city, and catch the road heading to
Sur. Travel will be harder with a group this size since the ground is sandy and
not well for traveling, but it is doable.”

Lightning nuzzled up next to
Darius. His wife’s Cremelino was trying to get his attention
. My brothers
and sisters would like to meet you, wizard. A side trip to White Island is not
too far, and you may find Kelln there.

“Why do I suspect you keep
nudging me to your homeland? I tried to send Kelln there, but now it seems that
to find him, I must go also. What are you not telling me?”
He sent his
concerns to the horse.

An amused feeling came over him
from the magical creature.
There are many things we do not share with
others; however, we make many exceptions for you, young Wizard King. You are
our hope; the prophecy guides all we do.

“The prophecy again,” Darius
muttered.

“Excuse me, Sire?” Roland asked.

Darius had been quiet for a few
moments while communicating with Lightning. Christine looked at him
expectantly.

Darius turned to Roland and said,
“Your men will need to care for my wife.”

“Darius?” Christine blurted.
“What are you talking about? You’re not thinking of leaving me, are you?”

I will take care of her,
Wizard, as if my life depended on it,
Lightning voiced in his mind.

Darius and Christine heard the
Cremelino, but the others, who had become somewhat used to this silent exchange
between horse and their King and his wife, waited patiently. Darius drew
Christine off to one side to speak in hushed tones.

“I don’t like this, Darius.
Lightning is always so cryptic in her answers. I feel a sense of danger from
her.”

“As do I.” Darius put his arm
around his beloved queen. “That’s why I think this is the best. You are not
feeling well. I need to go to White Island for some reason.” He glanced over at
Lightning.

“Why don’t we stay the night here
and think about it some more?” Christine offered. “Maybe send a messenger to
Kelln instead.”

“No, Christine. More time won’t
make a difference.” Darius knew, as a wizard of the heart, he tended to make
quick decisions based on what he felt. Sometimes they were brash and needed to
be checked, but he felt a strong compulsion toward White Island.

“I have to go,” he continued.
“Lightning is right. There is a reason for me to travel to the Cremelino’s
home. I can feel the importance, though I don’t know why. I need to talk to
Kelln also and find out what we can do about the Preacher.”

Christine hugged him as if she
didn’t want to let him go. Lightning came over and gave her comfort also.

Darius informed the group that he
would travel to White Island while the rest would travel back through Anikari
and on to Sur from there. Darius would meet up with them in Sur after taking
care of matters on White Island and Mar.

“I will travel to White Island
with you also,” Taliana declared.

Roland gave a sudden grin. “I
will accompany the King also, and I will be happy to be your protector, my
lady. My King is used to handling himself.” He smiled at Darius.

“Don’t patronize me, guard man. I
can hold my own,” Tali said.

“Guard man?” Roland choked and
turned red.

Everyone else laughed at his
obvious discomfort.

“I am the captain of the King’s
guard,” he stated formally, “and I will protect you, little girl.” He said the
last part in mock imitation of how she had addressed him.

Without warning, Roland jumped in
the air with a yelp. He reached back and rubbed his behind. “What the . . . ?”

“I am not a little girl. As I
said, I can handle myself.”

“How did you do that?” Roland
muttered. “You didn’t even move.”

“There are lots of things a woman
of power can do.” Taliana smiled.

“Oh no, not another wizard,”
Roland groaned. “Is there anyone else who needs protecting?” He spread his
hands wide in mock supplication. The crowd laughed and joined in Roland’s
mirth.

Darius motioned Roland to the
side and addressed the others in the group. “Roland and Taliana will come with
me. The rest of you will ride back to Anikari with the queen. After a few days
of rest, you will accompany the queen to Sur. Roland and I will meet up with
you there to meet with the people of Sur and the Kingdom of Arc’s leaders.”

Turning, he called Taliana to his
side. “Using the power is not a game,” he admonished.

Taliana looked down, cheeks red,
and curtsied. “Forgive me, Sire.”

Darius felt her contrition. “No
need to dwell on the past.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“My Lord, there are rumors you
have powers as I do, though I guess you are much more powerful. Is that true?”

“It is.” Darius still had a hard
time realizing what he was. “I am a wizard of the heart.”

Taliana smiled. “Is that how you
convinced your queen to marry you?” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Darius laughed. “Taliana, you are
going to be a handful, aren’t you?”

“Call me Tali.” She examined the
sky and watched a flock of birds flying overhead. They were coming from the
west. “Must be a storm coming. We should hurry.”

Darius’s eyes opened wider at
that knowledge.

“My powers are in the earth . . .
as are my father’s.”

“The governor of Mar is a
wizard?” Darius found this all too much. At first, he thought he was the only
one. Since then he had found Mezar; Alastair, the father of the Preacher; the
Preacher himself; and now this girl and her father, the governor of one of his
most troubled cities. “And I thought I was all alone.” He wondered how many
others had powers that they kept hidden for fear of retribution. He would have
to remedy that.

Darius walked over to Christine,
who was sitting on the ground next to Lightning. She looked pale and sick. “I
won’t be gone long. In a week or two, we will both be back together in Sur.”

“I know.” She reached up her
hands to him, and he pulled her up and close, her slender body folding into
his. “It’s just this is the first time we have been separated since you
returned to Anikari.” Her eyes filled with tears.

Darius held her closer and sent
his power of love into her. She relaxed in his arms and breathed out in slow
rhythms. Christine turned her head up to his and kissed him.

He whispered, “You need some
rest, Christine. You are only a day’s ride back to the city. I hate to leave
you, too, but I need to go to White Island. It is drawing me more now that we are
closer. I will see you in a week or no more than ten days.”

Christine stayed in his arms and
sighed but didn’t say anything.

After a few moments, Lightning
nudged them, and they turned around. The entire group was standing and watching
Darius and Christine. They had deep smiles on their faces. Most of them had
served under King Edward and were still getting used to the ways of their young
King and his wife.

Darius gazed over his subjects
and thought of them as his friends. He loved his people. He spread his hands
outward and raised his palms up, spreading a trickle of the love he felt
outward for them to feel. They received it wide-eyed and dropped to one knee in
reverence of their leader.

Roland, always the one to keep
things moving, stood back up first. “My Lord, the young girl—” He stumbled on
his words. “I mean, the young lady from Mar is correct: it does look like a
storm coming. If we all leave now, the queen and her group should reach Forest
View before the storm. Those of us going with you might not be so lucky.”

Turning to his wife’s group,
Darius said, “We will meet up with you in Sur.” Then he turned and with his
group galloped off in a northeasterly direction. He turned around once, waving
and smiling at his young wife.

Give greetings and love to my
family.
Darius listened to Lightning’s voice inside his head.

THE PRINCE OF ARC

S
ean San Ghant sat in the parlor of the
mayor’s home. The town of Toth sat on the border of Arc and the Realm in a
small valley at the mouth of a pass. The road through Toth led between the
Superstition Mountains and served as the checkpoint for goods going between the
two kingdoms. The road was treacherous but navigable, and through the years,
quite a large population of guides and hardened trackers had made Toth their
home. Technically it sat on the Arc side of the border, but people from many
lands could be found among its citizens. The population held quite a mixed
marriage of races and cultures.

The room, much more rustic than
Sean’s tastes ran, was comfortable, though not large. He had the good pleasure
of the mayor’s daughter to bring him some morning refreshments. Her skin tone
favored a dusty brown mixture of the darker Gildanian and the lighter Arc
parentage.  Her blue eyes were slightly turned. He rubbed his hand over his
close-cropped light hair and winked his thanks at her. She smiled back with
flushed cheeks.

Sean had been in the city for
over two months now, establishing his front as the son of a successful trader.
By his looks, others supposed him of Anikarian heritage, but he never offered
the information, and others never pushed it. He was vague on purpose so as not
to focus anyone’s attention on him. Twice so far, he had to hide from visitors
from the Realm that he recognized.

Soon Sean would meet his contact
from inside the Kingdom of Arc. He had been planting seeds of discontent
against the Realm with the mayor and other local nobles and traders in the
important border town. It didn’t take much to fire up age-old animosity toward
their neighboring kingdom. Historically, the Realm under both Kings Edward and
Charles had been monetarily successful, border taxes had been raised, and an
air of supremacy had developed. Sean played the part of a disgruntled son
looking for opportunity. If that meant betrayal of his country, it didn’t
matter to him. They had betrayed him by putting Darius on the throne, a man who
hadn’t cared about his noble heritage.

The door opened, and he felt the
cooler mountain breeze blow into the room. In the doorway stood two men dressed
in the finery of Arc. They both had on black boots and pants. A white shirt
stuck out only slightly from the black jacket and cloaks they wore. Although
identical in dress, the two men were opposite in physical stature. One favored
the truer Arc heritage of blond hair on top of a tall, slender body. While the
other stood shorter, with brown hair, and of a heavier build. Both carried an
aura of danger around them.

Sean, deciding these were the men
he was to meet, stood up and walked toward them with an air of importance. He
smoothed down his own richly made clothes on his way to them.

“Good day, sirs. I’ve been
waiting a long time for you.” He looked around to make sure the mayor’s
daughter was out of the parlor room. “We have a lot of business to discuss.”

The thinner man put his hand on
his sword hilt and anger flashed in his light eyes. “We don’t have any business
to discuss with you, Realm spy.”

Sean‘s jaw dropped in surprise.
Stammering, he tried to regain control. “Spy? Spy? No, no. You have things all
wrong.”

“Seems to me
you
might
have things all wrong,” the thinner man continued. He seemed to be a few years
older than Sean. “You say you are a trader, but I see nothing being traded, you
reek of Anikarian nobility with your speech and clothes, and you are trying to
get in the good graces of our local leaders. What is it you are looking for?”

“Looking for?” Sean repeated,
then became angry. “I am looking for you. I was told to meet a contact here,
and I’ve been waiting for weeks trying to keep myself busy. You are wasting my
time now.”

The larger, older man took a step
forward and said his first words. The accent was not one that Sean recognized,
but the intent he did. “You will speak respectfully to the prince, or you will
be removed from his presence.”

The prince? Sean’s mind whirled
around as he tried to remember who the King of Arc even was. The Preacher had
said nothing about getting involved with the Prince. This was more dangerous
than he had intended. He had to be careful. He needed to smooth things over.

Bowing low, Sean apologized, “I
am sorry, your Highness. I seem to have forgotten my manners while sitting in
this mountain pass. I assure you I meant no disrespect. I’m sure you are busy,
and I appreciate the time taken to come to me.”

The larger man, obviously the
younger’s body guard, stepped back and seemed to relax, though Sean was sure
that could change in a moment’s notice.

“You will come with us,” the
prince instructed. He motioned toward the door. “Now.”

Sean was annoyed at having to
leave some things behind, but he recognized the opportunity of the moment and
followed.

Outside of the mayor’s house
stood three guards, dressed the same as the two men he'd already met. The
prince motioned one of the men forward.

“Tie his wrists and set him on a
horse with one of the men. He will be taken and tried,” the prince ordered.

Sean couldn’t believe what was
happening. Maybe these weren’t his contacts. “Prince Bronwyn, as I said before,
there has been a misunderstanding. I am no spy; just a merchant’s son trying to
make my way in life. My benefactor told me to meet a contact here to discuss
some important business.”

The prince ignored Sean’s plea.
“We ride to Herro. If we hurry, we can be there by nightfall.”

Sean tried once again to get the
prince’s attention, but one of the guards grabbed him in a rough manner, tied a
rope around his wrists, set him on a horse in front of another guard, and told
him that if he caused any trouble, he would ride unconscious the rest of the
way.

Herro was the closest major city
to the border, and after riding hard all day, they arrived at the small castle
of the local ruler. On the backside of the Superstition Mountains, the ground
was not as green and the air drier, but was still comfortable compared to the
rest of the desert kingdom.

 One of the guards had given Sean
some food and allowed him to drink water each time they stopped to rest the
horses, but his wrists ached. The skin under the ropes had been rubbed raw.
This was the first time the young noble had been outside of the Realm. He
thought it would be more exciting. Now he began to fear for his life.

Sean was dragged off the horse
and marched into the manor. The prince ordered a guard to get him cleaned up
and present him at the dining table to join them in a meal. The Preacher had
promised him power, and so he took a deep breath and tried to maintain a show
of confidence. Being a noble from the Realm should still get him the respect he
deserved.

It was late in the evening when
they arrived, but the kitchen staff had obviously been waiting for them.
Walking into the dining room, Sean felt his stomach growl and contract. The
little food they had given him on the day-long ride was hardly enough to
satisfy him. His long legs felt weak, and his mouth watered at the sight. A
large formal wooden table sat laid out with platters of meat, vegetables,
fruits, and steaming fresh-baked rolls. They all sat down at the table. Sean
raised his hands, grabbing the prince’s attention.

“My Lord?” he asked, needing the
ropes removed.

The prince returned the question
with a nod, and a guard untied his wrists. There was quick pain as the blood
recirculated, but the smells of the food distracted him enough.

Sean was surprised by the mixture
of servants and nobility. A stranger to Sean, the local lord of the manor
joined them. All were silent as food was passed around. The men tore with
eagerness into the flavorsome pork and venison. Wine was passed around to all,
the talk started again, and soon all were laughing with exploits and adventures
that grew bigger and bigger.

All except Sean. He didn’t know
quite what to make of what was going on. The prince sat a few chairs down from
him on the opposite side of the table. After Sean tried to get his attention
through the meal, the prince finally turned to speak to him.

“I’m sorry about your rough
treatment. We had to be careful.” His accent was heavy, but Sean understood him
nevertheless. “There are eyes everywhere. I am Prince Bronwyn Anwar.”

Sean relaxed slightly at the
words, relieved that he had indeed found his contacts, and they intended him no
further harm.

“I am Sean San Ghant.”

Bronwyn continued, “I am hesitant
about a man who would sell out his own kingdom.”

Sean winced at the slap but
answered calmly, “I have been a faithful and strong servant of the Realm, but
the Realm has fallen under the influence of a new King. He is young and brash
and does not deserve what he has. He has powers that…”

“Powers?” the prince interrupted.

“He is a Wizard King, my Lord,
with little training in magic and an even smaller sense of how to run a
kingdom. I do not see myself as selling out the land of my birth but as a
patriot concerned about its future.”

The prince brooded for a moment.
“Another wizard sticking his nose where it does not belong. I understand your
frustration, Sean San Ghant. The world would be a much better place without
wizards meddling in our affairs.”

The large wooden door at the end
of the dining room crashed open. Sean watched as a large elderly man with
graying hair and a full beard walked purposefully into the room. His hefty
girth was draped by a large green robe and riding cloak.

“What about wizards, Prince
Bronwyn Anwar?”

The room went silent with the
presence of the newcomer. Anger flashed in the eyes of the prince.

“Just that there seems to be more
of them lately, High Wizard. We were commenting on the new Wizard King in the
Realm.”

“Ah,” the large man said, “I
see.” He glanced around the room, his eyes settling on Sean for a few moments,
but passed by without a word. Sean felt as if the man knew what his motives
were.

All of a sudden, a higher female
voice broke the uncomfortable silence. “Olan, wait up for me.” A young curvy
girl came up behind the High Wizard. She stopped suddenly, eyes on the table
full of men. Her full cheeks flushed; a broad beautiful smile split her face.
“Bronwyn.” She rushed up to the prince and, among the chuckles of the men, gave
him a big hug. Hardly reaching his chest, she had to stretch her arms high to
grab him around the neck.

“My little sister, Danijela. You
have grown. I haven’t seen you in over a year. Looks like you are finally
losing some of that baby fat,” the prince teased, pinching her cheeks.

Danijela smiled but not so warmly
now. Her hands moved to her hips, and she stood her ground against her larger
and older brother. “Bronwyn, that’s not nice to say to a woman.”

“A woman now?” Bronwyn said.

“I turned sixteen earlier this
year, and you missed my party if I remember right.”

Bronwyn did wince at that. “I was
out meeting our people. Anyway, what are you doing in the company of the High
Wizard?”

“Haven’t you heard by now?”

“Heard what? I’ve been traveling
the far reaches of our kingdom, first with Mother and then with my council of
men here. We just recently arrived. I had heard you were traveling with Wizard
Sallir but hadn’t heard why.”

Danijela brought her hand up and
spun it around. All of the lamps in the room brightened considerably.

Sean watched the prince. His
features hardened, and his breathing deepened. He stood up, knocking his chair
on the floor.

“What is the meaning of this?” he
questioned, striding across the floor toward the High Wizard.

Sean didn’t know what a High
Wizard was, but from the short conversation moments before, he understood that
Bronwyn did not like wizards. He wondered how the prince would react if he knew
that the Preacher was the benefactor in this mission of his.

“She is a wizard in training, an
apprentice under my care,” voiced High Wizard Sallir loudly.

“What did you do to her?” the
prince demanded, standing directly in front of the wizard.

Danijela moved between them. “He
did nothing, Bronwyn. I knew I had powers for years; I just didn’t know what to
do about it. He invited me to train with him at the Wizards’ Conclave.”

Bronwyn looked at Danijela. “You
are playing at things you don’t understand, little sister. Come back home with
me where you belong.”

Danijela stood up in front of her
brother, not even reaching his chin. Her short blonde hair framed a face that
still held a fullness of youth. Her lips tightened as her hands moved to her
hips. “I am not little anymore, big brother. I am sixteen. This is what I
choose to do.”

Bronwyn reached to grab his
sister’s arm. Instead he was thrown in the air by the stone floor pushing him
off his feet. The stone turned to liquid and flowed over the floor. It
surrounded the prince and began to make a wall around him, hardening again as
it formed. The prince’s men rose from the table and drew their swords. Sean sat
back and smiled. Oh, yes, these people could be manipulated for sure. Bronwyn’s
hatred of magic was apparent.

“Enough!” High Wizard Sallir
boomed. “Danijela, stop this immediately.”

The men still stood with swords
out and ready to fight. The High Wizard flicked his wrist and every sword flew
to the ground.

Bronwyn stood. His face filled
with rage and murderous intent. “You manipulated my sister, Wizard.” He spat.

“I am the High Wizard, Prince
Bronwyn, and you should not forget that. I have advised three Kings and now do
advise your father. He asked me to come and ask you to meet the new Realm King
in his place as he is taking care of other matters on the other side of the
country. Your lack of control and judgment make me question your ability to do
that or to rule in your father’s footsteps. I had hoped to raise Danijela to be
your advisor.”