The Path Of Peace (The Cremelino Prophecy Book 3) (8 page)

BOOK: The Path Of Peace (The Cremelino Prophecy Book 3)
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“How will we travel and take care
of them? I’m on my way to Sur after I leave here to meet a delegation from Arc
with my wife.” Darius looked out at part of the herd.

“I will go with them,” Jakob
blurted.

His father frowned.

“Father, remember the day that
the Cremelinos first spoke to me? They said I would meet the wizard they had
felt come into his power. I am meant to be with him. I can take care of the
Cremelinos for him.”

Haman looked at Darius.

“It would be practical training
for him in becoming the next master caretaker,” Darius said to Haman. “He will
be paid well and protected. If you can do without him here.”

Jakob’s mother, Nhila, wiped a
sleeve across her eyes and laid a gentle hand on her husband’s arm. “Haman, I
think this is right. This is what Jakob was raised to do. As they said, times
are changing. Wizards walk the land again, and these Cremelinos are meant for
them. Jakob is well-trained.”

Haman agreed. They all made
arrangements to meet in town the following day with Jakob and the six Cremelinos,
including Tali’s. Darius and the group began to walk away when one more message
came to him from the lead horse.

Christine says she loves you,
my King Wizard.

Darius was taken aback. “
How
do you know that?”

Lightning has told us. We can
communicate across distances together through the power of our wizards.

“But Christine isn’t a
wizard.”

No, but Lightning is special,
and Christine has enough old wizard blood in her from the farmlands to make the
bond work. Lighting was born as part of the prophecy.

“Ah. The prophecy,” Darius said
out loud. “Why do I sense sometimes I am just a puppet in everything I do?” He
didn’t say the words in anger, only a feeling of being overwhelmed by what was
required of him. Did everything circle around him and this prophecy?

* * *

Deep in Mar’s underground, a
young, beautiful woman met with the head of Mar’s Guild of Thieves. Her mission
was the same as her father’s when he’d met with the governor two weeks before:
They wanted him to help sponsor a new guild for certain favors in return.

Alessandra El’Lan was following
her father’s commands in order to find her mother. He had told her the Guild of
Thieves might know where her mother was, and so she went along with his plan.
The outcome of the Preacher’s plan was to sow discontent and anarchy in the
Realm. Soon he would be meeting with representatives of the eastern kingdoms to
finalize their support. Alessandra knew all this, and felt bad for Darius and
the Realm, but she needed to take care of herself. The Realm hadn’t done
anything for her. Except Kelln.

That is what hurt her the most.
Her betrayals and dishonesty with him. He was so open, honest, and likeable
that Alessandra had found herself falling for him at their first meeting. It
had been a year and a half since she had first met him. Even with her
shortcomings and ties to Belor, he liked her, and all she did time and time
again was betray him. She was a horrible person. She knew that. She didn’t
deserve him. But that didn’t mean she didn’t think about him. But once again
she was betraying him.

“And what will you do for us?”
the guildmaster asked.

“We will remove the ambassador
from Mar. We know you almost had him the other day.”

The guildmaster frowned at that.
“How will you do this? You are new in Mar. You have no ties.”

“My father and I share a past . .
. let’s say a relationship with his royal ambassador. With him out of your way,
you can take down the governor and his powerful Trader’s Guild, correct?”
Alessandra had to be firm.

The guildmaster sat back in his
big soft chair. The man had survived now more than seventy years, controlling
the guild for thirty of those. Alessandra let him think about it.

She looked around the room, the
den of a large mansion. Antiquities from around the world filled cases around
the room, almost in a cluttered look. It was as if the guildmaster wanted to
show off everything he had ever taken. His glory, his life, was filled with the
things he stole. His soul was his mansion.

“There is one more condition,”
Alessandra added. “We are looking for a woman about twenty years older than me.
She used to go by Berlain. Auburn hair, wide eyes, and tall.” Alessandra could
barely picture her mother in her mind; it had been far too long.

“I have heard of this woman
before,” the guildmaster remarked, “but I am not sure she wants to be found.”

Alessandra’s heart dropped.

“But I will ask around and let
you know. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of that frown on your face,” he
teased.

Alessandra regained a small
amount of hope. “We will proceed with the plans then. I will let you know when
things are taken care of.”

A servant showed Alessandra out
the door and escorted her back into a more crowded part of town. There she met
her father.

“Did they accept?” her father
asked.

“They did. And they will search
for my mother also.”

The Preacher waved his hand in
dismissal. “Our spies tell me the ambassador is back in town now. He is guarded
by the governor’s daughter. Although she is gifted with the power, she is no
match for me.”

“You promised you wouldn’t kill
him,” Alessandra reminded her dangerous father. It was all she could do to ease
a portion of her conscience. She wished she could find her mother on her own,
just see her one last time, then she would leave. But it seemed she needed her
father’s connections. When she looked at him, she sometimes had to take a step
back to avoid the evil shine from his eyes, but he was still her father and
deep inside she still loved and cared for him. It was a twisted life she led, a
life of betrayal.

“Yes. I won’t kill him. Just
remove him far, far away. Maybe the forgotten lands would do him good.” The
Preacher laughed and laughed, attracting attention from people crossing the
small city square. “Unfortunately, the young ambassador won’t be around to see
my triumphal return to power.”

 

 

Chapter Seven

JUSTICE OR
MERCY?

 

J
akob had a way of finding water in the
White Sand Desert. Darius wasn’t sure how he did it, but was glad for the boy’s
talents. Even his own wizarding powers were not adept to that task, though he
wondered if an earth wizard would find it easier. The Wizard King was excited
to visit with Mezar in Gildan. The thought of a library that might help him
understand his power drew him south. It seemed that everything he did came to
him naturally when the time was needed, but it was frustrating to not
understand how he did it. However, first he must travel to Sur, meet with a
representative from the Kingdom of Arc, then travel to Denir, all the while
spending time in small villages and towns along the way.

After traveling back to the
mainland south of Mar from White Island, Darius bid farewell to Kelln and
Taliana with a reiterated promise that he would send soldiers to Mar to help
Kelln. Not wanting to get too close to Mar with the Preacher still loose in the
city, Darius along with Roland, Jakob, and five Cremelinos cut west through the
White Sand Desert. Eventually they would run into the Crystal River and would
use that to guide them back north to the road that ran from Mar to Sur.

“Over here.” Jakob motioned to
the group. Once again, he had found a small spring oasis of water among a few
short trees and reeds. The men let the horses get their fill first. Having open
access to all the water and food they needed on White Island, the Cremelinos
were not used to the dry, barren desert. Their physical abilities were stronger
than a normal horse, but the heat of the desert was new to them.

The group sat next to the small
pool of fresh water and took some meat and cheese out of their bags. Food was
no problem since Haman’s wife and the innkeeper had provided them with far more
than they would need. Any town they passed through, no matter how small, would
declare a feast in honor of their King. The night before they passed through a
small sand village. Some nomads that didn’t usually have much to do with the
Realm as their government still insisted on feeding the group and serenading
them with tribal songs.

After resting, they headed west
again. Darius was grateful for the cooler autumn nights that kept the desert
from getting too hot during the day this time of year. The nomads provided
covering for their heads out of a strange white material that seemed to reflect
the sun and keep them even cooler. They even retrofitted them to fit on the
heads of the Cremelinos.

Two days later, they found the
river and a small village next to it. Traveling north for the next few days
found them connecting to the main road. Darius, anxious to meet back up with
Christine again, wanted to continue riding toward Sur now that they were on the
road. However, Jakob recommended they stay for a few days to allow their normal
horses to hydrate and regain their strength. The Cremelinos seemed fine.

Knowing the young caretaker was
right, he agreed. It gave him time to find a rider and write a message to
deliver to his father. He also sent another rider on ahead to Sur to let
Christine and the rest of his guards know they were on their way.

It had now been a few weeks since
they’d split up, far longer than Darius had been prepared for. He missed sitting
beside his wife. His thoughts turned to her, and he smiled. After being
reunited again a few months earlier, it had been hard to be away from her. He
felt empty without her around.

After taking care of business,
Darius went to the stables to make sure the Cremelinos were being taken care
of. He grabbed a brush and reached his hand toward one of the white horses,
asking permission to touch him as he helped Jakob groom them. Jakob, as one of
the caretakers, was given permission to touch the horses without having to be a
wizard or bonded.

As Darius brushed the horse, he
thought of Christine and Lightning and about the many times that Lightning
communicated with him and even let him ride her, but he knew the bond with
Christine and the Cremelino was different. He wondered when he would be chosen
to have one and how it would feel. Would it be similar to the wizard power he
held inside of him?

When the time is right, young
wizard,
one of the horses spoke to him,
then we will choose.

“You are all so beautiful and
strong,”
Darius said.

The horse seemed pleased with the
comment, and he whinnied his pleasure.

Are there differences between
the males and females?

The horse snorted, almost as if
laughing at the King.
Are there differences between human men and women?

Darius smiled, laughed, and spoke
out loud. “Yes, there are. I get it.”

Loud yelling noises grabbed
Darius’s attention. He ran out of the stable to see what was happening. A young
boy was being dragged behind a horse by a rope. He was screaming for the rider
to stop.

Darius jumped out and held up his
hand to the rider. The man didn’t appear to recognize Darius, but he did stop.
The boy picked himself up off the ground and stood in a defiant stance. The
urchin was not more than ten years old. The little clothes he wore were dirty
and threadbare. His skin was pale, and his light blue eyes sat squinted beneath
a mop of brown hair.

Darius confronted the man. “What
is the meaning of this?”

“This brat was caught stealing
from our garden.”

“I was just getting food for my
family,” the boy explained, holding himself up as tall as he could.

The man spit on the ground in
front of the boy. “You’re a miner from the Gold Mountains by the look of you.
You’re a long way from home to be getting food for your family.”

Roland stepped between the man
and the King. “Sir. Please let the King ask the questions, and refrain from
spitting in his presence.”

Darius tried not to smile at
Roland’s way of defending him. His men were indeed protective of him.

“My Lord” The man bowed to the
King. “I didn’t mean any offense. We don’t get royal visitors out this way very
often. These urchins from the mines seem to be multiplying lately. They take
our food and run off with it.”

“Untie the boy,” Darius ordered
the man.
            “Sire. He will run away. He is little but wiry and quick,” the man
said.

“You heard the King.” Roland
stepped up to the man with a scowl on his tanned face.

The man sighed and untied the
rope off the boy’s wrists.

As they had feared, the boy began
to run off. The man started after him, but Roland put an arm on his to restrain
him.

Darius watched the boy for a
moment, feeling sorry for his condition. He thought back to the farmlands
outside of Anikari where Christine had grown up. They were hated and treated
badly from the city nobles and merchants, sometimes not having much food for
themselves. The boy was thin and hungry, but he couldn’t let him get away. The
King had to serve justice.

With a flick of his wrist and
power from his heart, he meant to thicken the air in front of the boy; however,
instead he created a wind that came sideways and blew the boy off his feet,
landing him hard on the ground. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but the wind
continued swirling and headed toward some of the other townspeople. With a few
screams and scrambling around, they escaped the brunt of it.

The wind dissipated, and Darius’s
face burned red with embarrassment. He covered it up by walking toward the boy
and stopping in front of him. The boy turned, looking up wide-eyed. Darius
crooked his finger, asking the boy to stand. The boy shook his head. Darius
clapped his hands in front of him, and the ground around the boy shook. The
boy’s eyes now filled with terror; however, this time Darius’s power stayed
contained. Again Darius motioned for the young boy to stand up. This time the
boy acquiesced and walked slowly next to the King as they returned to the man
who had caught him.

A large crowd from the small
village had gathered. They watched him with wonder in their eyes and whispered
among themselves that now the boy would get what he deserved. The King would
not stand for a little brat defying him; however, Darius’s heart went out to
the young boy.

“Tell me about your village in
the mountains,” Darius said, ushering the boy to sit down next to him on a
large log.

“I live in a small mining town
just outside the eastern twin city. My papa and mama work deep in the copper
mine. We didn’t get much rain early this year in the mountains, not like we
usually do, so our crops didn’t grow. These people here”—he spread his hands
around—“and villages like these don’t help us out. My papa said they raise
their prices just to hurt us.”

The boy stopped talking, but
Darius urged him forward in his story. “I’m not old enough to work in the
mines, so they send others like me down to these villages to take food that we
need to live on.”

Darius’s heart went out to this
young man and his plight. The people in the Twin Cities were as much the King’s
responsibility as those in Anikari. He could tell their troubles must have been
neglected for years under King Edward.

“We work hard for our food, too,”
the man the boy had stolen from said. “They have no right to steal from us.”

Remembering back to the
difficulties of the farmers outside Anikari, Darius asked a question of the
townspeople. “What would you good people do if you had a harsh spring and
didn’t have food?”

“We wouldn’t steal it,” someone
said from the back of the crowd. “We would work for it.”

“My papa and mama do work, but
the mine masters work them too hard to meet their quotas, and they still don’t
get paid much.” With pleading eyes, the young boy turned to the King and
begged, “Help us.”

“What would you have me do?”
Darius stood and addressed the crowd. “What should I do about this small boy
only wanting some food?”

“Punish him.”

“Send him home.”

“Cut off his hand for stealing.”

The negative suggestions
continued until a small girl, a year or two younger than the boy walked out
with half a loaf of bread.

“Here,” was all she said. She sat
the loaf at the feet of the boy. “I have enough.”

The crowd quieted, and Darius’s
heart almost broke. It was clear to him what he must do.

“I am King of a vast realm of
people. It is my job to protect them and care for them, especially those who
aren’t able to care for themselves. We have suffered this past year in Anikari
because of similar problems there.” He walked over to the girl who brought the
bread. “Is your mother or father here?”

The young girl pointed at a man
in the back. The man appeared nervous to be singled out.

“Come forward, sir.” Darius
gestured to him. “What is your name?”

“Aral Flint,” the man said. He
wiggled his fingers at his side in nervousness of talking to his King.

“Your daughter has impressed me
with her charity. As of this moment, I give you a King’s charge. You are in
charge of gathering food from this and nearby villages and delivering it to the
communities of the Twin Cities. A portion of your bread, vegetables, fruits,
and meats will rotate among the villages to provide those in need with food until
they can provide for themselves again. My captain will draw up the requisite
papers for you to enforce this charge.”

There were a few murmurs in the
crowd; most were surprised at the King’s charge. Darius surveyed the
townspeople, then brought his attention back to the young boy. He walked over
and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“I will travel to the Twin Cities
and see for myself what is going on there. This kingdom has enough resources
for all men to live in comfort and not in fear or hunger.”

Roland moved over to the King and
whispered in his ear. “We are on the way to Sur, remember, Sire? There are
people there waiting for us.”

Darius smiled. “Thank you for the
reminder, Captain. You can go on ahead if you would like.”

Roland blanched at the idea. “I
don’t think that is a good idea, Sire. Who would watch after you then?”

Darius smiled. “Then we will
first go to the Twin Cities. The dignitaries of Sur and the Kingdom of Arc can
wait another week to see their King, whereas I daresay the people of the Twin
Cities haven’t seen a King in a long time.”

Roland’s lips sat in a straight
line, then he bowed his head.

“Have riders ready to go to Sur,
Arc, and the Twin Cities. I will have letters ready in the next hour. And get
Mr. Flint all he needs to accomplish his charge.” King Darius dispensed his
orders to his guard. “And so there are no hard feelings, reimburse the man the
young boy has stolen from for his loss.”

The man, still standing close by
seemed, surprised by the King’s justice and mercy. The crowd began talking at
once as Darius walked away to write his messages.

He penned a quick note to his
wife first, expressing his love for her and his desire to not be separated for
so long but stated that what he was doing was the right thing to do. He asked
her to placate the officials in Sur and reach out to the delegation from Arc
that would be there soon. Darius surely missed having Christine next to him.
Her smiles gave him confidence.

Upon exiting the building, one of
the Cremelinos came up to Darius. It was the same male he had once spoken with.

“We could communicate to your
wife directly through the Cremelino link. Lightning could inform her what you
need to tell her.”

Darius had not thought of that
before. A thought occurred to him: A coordinated placement of Cremelinos around
the Realm could be a great advantage in communicating the affairs of the
kingdom. Each one would need a wizard with them. He voiced this thought to the
horse.

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