The Path Of Peace (The Cremelino Prophecy Book 3) (12 page)

“They will not have her!” he
growled. “Faster,” he called out, and the pace of the three-hundred-man cavalry
picked up speed, though they were no match for him and the Cremelinos.

* * *

Sean stood next to Bronwyn
.
Bronwyn was a man of action. Sean liked that. The prince was
someone that actually got things done.

He remembered back to the night
that High Wizard Sallir and Bronwyn’s sister Danijela had interrupted Bronwyn
and his men’s meal. Bronwyn ordered his men to ambush the High Wizard as he
slept in a nearby inn. However, the wizard and his apprentice girl had
outmaneuvered them. When the prince’s men arrived and attacked the room, only a
straw dummy met their resistance. Bronwyn was furious and tore the room apart,
threatening the innkeeper with sudden death if he did not tell Bronwyn where the
two had gone.

All the innkeeper knew was the
High Wizard had paid for two rooms and then left, traveling west down the road.
After pleading for his life, the men let the innkeeper go with the order that
if he saw the High Wizard again, he was to inform Bronwyn or one of his men.

Now Sean stood next to the prince
in a small valley on the border of the two kingdoms, surveying the armed men in
front of them.

“They are all here, sir,” a guard
informed the prince. “We are five hundred strong.”

Bronwyn smiled. “Perfect. An
honor guard for the King of the Realm.”

“Oh, I look forward to seeing his
surprised face,” Sean said.

“Will his wife be with him?”
Bronwyn asked.

“They are inseparable. He clings
to her like a sick puppy to its mother,” Sean spat. “He is not worthy of being
King, but she is worthy of even less. An ignorant outsider.”

Sean had never understood
Darius’s obsession with the farmlands, his inclination to spend more time there
than in the city. He didn’t know how Darius had tricked King Edward into
allowing him to be the next King. It must be his powers. Sean could not deny
that Darius was a wizard of some sort, but he did not believe the story of him
being the grandson of King Charles.

“So the plan is to receive him
with honor. He will have only a small retinue with him. We will have a dinner
to celebrate, and in his wine we will put the poison that will reduce his
powers.” The prince looked down the pass. “Then once his powers are reduced, he
will meet with an unfortunate accident in the mountains, one that we will
regretfully inform the Realm of and offer our condolences and sympathy.”

“Then we will take Sur,” Sean
added with a gleam in his eyes. “A nice expansion to the kingdom. Are your
other men in place?”

“Yes, I sent men to Sur, Tean,
and the other local villages to stir up trouble. This whole region will erupt
into chaos overnight.”

“Then I will inform my master all
is ready for the complete destruction of the Realm.”

The prince turned to Sean. “Your
benefactor must be very powerful. Who is he again?”

Sean didn’t fall for the bait.
The prince had continued to try and pry the information from him. Sean walked a
tight line since the Preacher was a wizard and Bronwyn hated them. “Let’s just
say he has your interest in mind.”

Bronwyn frowned. “Or is he using
me for his interests?”

A fast rider approached, saving
Sean from having to lie again to the prince. The rider informed them that King
Darius did indeed ride to meet them, but he had over three hundred men at his
back. They were riding fast and would be there soon. Bronwyn didn’t seem
worried. He ordered his men to be ready.

In less than an hour, the King
rode up into the pass. He sat splendidly on a large white horse, dressed with a
circlet on his brow and silver armor adorning his body.  A flowing purple cape
hung down over the armor and a red shirt. Four guards rode on each side,
obviously men from Anikari, with a battalion of riders behind. A few horses
snorted and stomped, but for the most part the entire company stopped as if on
cue.

A slight breeze blew across the
small valley in the pass. High rocky mountain slopes guarded the north and
south. Silence hung in the air.

Darius, Wizard King of the Realm,
shattered the silence. “Where is my wife? Where have you taken her?”

The question shocked Sean, the
prince, and the other men. What was the King talking about? Prince Bronwyn
glared at Sean.

Sean shrugged. “Her horse is
empty.” Sean motioned toward the other white horse next to Darius.

“What game is he playing at, Sean
San Ghant?” the prince asked. “Have you led me into a trap?”

“No, no!” Sean backed up a few
steps.

Bronwyn, still standing a fair
distance away, lifted his voice. “I know nothing of the queen, Your Majesty.
You invited us to meet with you on your tour of the Realm. We are here to honor
the Realm’s newest King.”

“My wife has been taken by your
soldiers, men dressed all in black with a gold insignia, just like the one on
your left breast,” the King roared back, hand on the hilt of his sword.

Sean saw fear flash across the
prince’s face. The prince looked around his group, as if to ask if anyone knew
what the King was talking about. Sean moved up behind him.

“He lies, my Prince.” Sean was
furious at this apparent setback. “He uses trickery to goad us into action.”

“Why? Why would he do this?
Unless he has a reason to.” Bronwyn looked angrily at Sean. “You are a Realm
man. Maybe you set this as a trap for me.” He motioned one of his men to take
custody of Sean.

“We are here at your request,”
Bronwyn replied back to the King. “We supposed your wife would be with you.”

“But she is not,” Darius boomed,
his voice shaking the ground they all stood on. He took a few steps closer on
his horse. “Approach me with two of your men, and we will discuss this
further.”

Bronwyn motioned for two of his
best fighters to join him, then as he stepped forward, he grabbed a hold of
Sean. “You will come with me also. We will see how your King reacts to seeing
you, a Realm noble here in Arc.”

Sean struggled, but the prince’s
strength kept him held. “This is not necessary, my Prince. I am sure the King
hardly even knows me.” He didn’t know how Darius would react to him there. It
would not look good. He hated Darius personally and had been part of a plan to
kidnap him once. Having escaped from prison with the Preacher, Sean was sure
Darius would take delight in taking him back into custody.

Bronwyn approached King Darius
with his two men and Sean in tow. The small group stopped within twenty feet of
the King, who had dismounted and approached alone.

“Sean!” the King bellowed
suddenly, his voice bouncing off the walls of the mountains. “What are you
doing here?”

Sean tried to back up, but
Bronwyn held him tight.

“He is with me for now,” Bronwyn
answered, “though the outcome of this discussion will show whether he is still
useful to me or not.”

Sean went pale and wondered how
he would get out of the situation. He had to think fast. Either side would kill
him in a moment if he didn’t do something.

“This is all a misunderstanding,
Your Majesty.” Bronwyn bowed his head to the King of the Realm. “I am Bronwyn
Anwar, eldest son of King Anwar. I was sent here at your request. We do not
understand the questions about the queen. We are here to feast with you in
celebration.”

“There will be no celebration,”
Darius stated.

“We are sorry to hear that. My
men were looking forward to greeting their neighboring ruler.”

“Why so many men, Prince Anwar?”
Darius asked. His knuckles turned white on his sword hilt.

“As an honor.”

“Or as an army,” Darius said. “I
will ask once again. Why did your men take my wife, and where is she?”

Sean looked around. The battalion
behind Darius firmed up. Swords were drawn and made ready. The men behind
Bronwyn moved closer, unaware that even though they had more numbers, the Realm
had superior fighters. Sean still didn’t understand what Darius was asking, but
knowing him as he did, he knew this was no ruse. Darius was compassionate to a
fault, Sean knew, though his temper was something to be afraid of, especially
with his newfound powers. Something had happened to the queen and for some
reason, Darius thought the Kingdom of Arc was behind it.

Darius turned his attention from
Bronwyn to Sean. “Sean, are you behind the kidnapping of my wife?”

“No, no, my Lord, never.” Sean
trembled at the crackle of power in Darius’s gray eyes.

Darius fired rapid questions at
Sean. “Where is the Preacher? What are his plans? What are you doing here?
Where is Alessandra?”

 “Not everyone loves you, Darius
Williams.” Sean left off the honorifics of his name on purpose. “You don’t
deserve the throne. You don’t deserve what you have.” Sean’s only chance at
this point was to start the battle and escape in the midst of it. He knew
Darius’s temper and was intent on using it fully to his advantage. “You can’t
even keep track of your little farmer girl.” Sean spat the final insult.

Darius drew his sword, and
lightning ran across the length of it, escaping into the sky. Thunder rolled
through the air as he pushed his left hand out against Bronwyn’s army, many of
them having a hard time standing in the sudden gust of wind.

“Christine!” Darius yelled a
deafening yell that cascaded with power over the entire valley. Trees split
down the middle, and rocks fell down the side of the steep mountain walls.
Horses stamped their feet as the ground shook. The Realm soldiers began to push
forward. Darius swiped his sword at Sean, but in his blind rage somehow missed
him.

Sean pulled away from the prince
who retreated back to his men, and ran away from the battle. Calvary on both
sides surged forward and took up formation.

Darius remounted his horse and
motioned his men forward with one thrust of his arm. Bronwyn did the same. Over
eight hundred horse-mounted soldiers clashed together, either avenging their
King or fighting for their prince.

The battle had begun.

CHRISTINE

C
hristine awoke but kept her eyes closed so
as not to alert her captors. She sent out her mind to try and find Lightning
but sensed nothing. That had happened more often of late, and she was becoming
worried that the companion she'd had for the past two years would soon leave
her altogether. Maybe it was because she wasn’t a wizard.

The queen of the Realm laid on
soft blankets and caught the sound of distant voices. She guessed it was
afternoon by the strength of the sun through her closed eyelids. Her head
throbbed, and her stomach felt nauseous again.

Opening her lids lightly and
turning her head, she ascertained she was alone in the room for the moment. The
walls held a cream-colored plaster with pleasant art hanging in organized
fashion around the room. The bed sat high up off the floor with lavish quilts
covering its frame. High class abductors, she surmised.

Her mind cleared, and she started
to remember fragments of the last few days. After Lighting had left her at Sur,
the men in black gagged her and placed a dark sack over her head. They had
ridden fast and far before stopping that night. She’d been allowed to eat and
relieve herself on the way but not speak. That first night they stayed in a
barn, and she had not slept well.

The next day, they covered her
head again and rode through the day. At one time she’d heard a struggle and
found herself being carried off the horse and told to remain silent. Although
they dressed like men from Arc when they took her, they were definitely from
further south. The few words they used and the food they brought along signaled
them as being from Gildan. She was not well-versed in either culture, but she
knew they were not heading through the pass to Arc, most likely south to
Gildan.

The door opened, and a young man
came in. His light brown face, dark hair, and slightly upturned eyes set him as
Gildan before he even spoke.

“Would you like some food?” His
accent was heavy but understandable.

“Just some water,” she said. Thinking
of food made her stomach roil.

The young man returned a few
minutes later with a cool glass of water.

“Where am I?” she asked, knowing
she probably wouldn’t get an answer.

As expected, the young man stayed
silent and then took back the glass when it was empty.

He left, and she laid back down.
They must have arrived here, wherever
here
was, the prior evening. It
was dark when they ushered her into the room. Looking down, she noticed she
still wore her riding clothes from many days previous.

She stood and took a few minutes
for her shaky legs to stabilize. Walking over to a small window, she peered
outside. Her captors had brought her to a large complex on a hill. She had the
view of a city, a very large one, one that went as far as she could see. The
famed white-domed roofs told her where she had been taken.

“Gildan,” she said out loud as
the door opened.

“Very good, my dear.” The man
closed the door behind him.

“Why am I here?” She tried to be
regal but knew her clothes looked anything other.

“Simply as a tool of
negotiation.”

“Negotiate for what?” Christine
found herself instantly afraid of this man. His calmness belied a hint of
madness underneath. His hair was dark, holding light hints of gray. He dressed
in battle attire, which gave added dimension to his thin but muscled body.
Without Lightning to give her support, she found herself wavering in front of
him.

“Negotiation for the Realm.”

Christine looked at the man
carefully. He resembled Mezar somewhat. The same mouth and eyes, though on this
man they were arrogant and angry, while on Mezar they held eagerness and joy.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

Christine shook her head, trying
to buy time as she formulated a plan.

The man moved closer to where she
stood by the window. “I think you do.”

Christine stayed silent. She
tried to move further away from him, but the room was too small.

He stretched his hand out in
front of him and, without any physical effort, lifted her off the floor mere
inches. He bound her arms with air to her sides and brought her closer to him.
She could smell his foul breath. Fear gripped her heart. This man was a
powerful wizard.

“I will be your next King.” The
man’s heavy breath was warm on her face. “I will rule Gildan and the Realm with
an iron fist, not like the current Emperor or your pitiful husband. I have
heard of his weaknesses: his temper, his tenuous hold on his emotions, his
compassion.” The last was said with malice, tiny drops of spittle hitting
Christine’s face.

He lowered her to the ground and
unbound her arms. Christine wiped the drops of spit from her face.

“I am General Alrishitar, heir to
the throne of the Gildanian Empire. Mezar has told me about you and your
pathetic King,” the man said.

Christine took a deep breath. She
couldn’t believe Mezar had anything to do with this man. He had stood by Darius
even though Darius had taken him prisoner.

“You want to know how I will rule
the Realm?” The general seemed proud to share his plans, his ingenuity.
Although terrified, Christine tried to play cool and get as much information
out of him as she could. She could tell his ego had no bounds, and so she fed
it with a compliment. “You do seem to have everything figured out, general. I
can see why Mezar spoke so highly of you.”

The general looked surprised but
pleased. “He did?’

Christine fed him another lie.
“Oh, yes. When he was in Anikari at my husband’s coronation, he told me how
great your empire was and that someday you would be the next Emperor and lead
Gildan to greater heights.”

The general nodded his head.
“That is right. Gildan will be the mightiest power in the west when I am
Emperor.”

“My husband is a new King.”
Christine brought him back to the conversation. “But he is smart and has the
Realm army at his back. You must have a complicated plan to take over the
Realm.” Christine feigned innocence. She knew of Darius’s powers and that Mezar
would also never let anything happen to the Realm.

The general walked a few steps
away from her. “My plan is easy. Your husband thinks you’ve been stolen by men
from Arc. He will start a war with them, and while his attention is elsewhere,
I will send an army into the Realm, taking it piece by piece, starting in
Denir, annexing each parcel of the Realm to the empire, one city at a time. By
the time your dear husband and King find out what has happened, he will be
depleted from his war with Arc, and I will be on the verge of taking Anikari.”

“What about me?” Christine drew
out the mad man’s plans as far as she could.

“Ah. In the end, he will hand
over control of the Realm to me as a trade for you. I know of his weakness for
you. He will do anything for his young wife. He will not be able to resist.”

Now that Christine understood
part of the man’s plan, she became bolder. “He is powerful. He may stop you,
General.”

“He is an untrained dog with
powers he does not understand. I am one of the most powerful wizards in Gildan.
He will bow before me and my power. He will grovel at my feet.” The general
raised his voice to a fevered pitch, veins popping out from his neck.

Lowering his voice, he continued,
“For now, you will be treated well; have no fear. You are a queen my dear and
we royals need to be treated well. I will not have you blemished for your
King.”

“What if he won’t surrender to
you for me?” she asked. “Darius understands his duty is to the entire realm,
not just his wife.”

“Then I will destroy him bone by
bone in front of you until you beg to take his place.”

Christine blanched and stepped
back even further. She could not believe the gall of this man. “You are mad. It
will never work. Darius will stop you. Your son will stop you.”

“Don’t speak to me of my son
again!” The general used his power to knock a small vase from a shelf,
shattering glass all over the floor. “Your husband softened him. He will learn
his place in Gildan or be destroyed with your husband.”

The general flung open the door.
A guard appeared next to him outside the room, and a servant stood close by.

“Bathe her, and give her clothes
fitting for her station. Make sure she eats, and keep her happy.” The general
looked back at Christine one more time. “And make sure she stays alive. I need
her.”

Christine felt numb inside.
Lightning was gone from her mind. Sitting in a foreign land, she knew her
husband most likely searched for her hundreds of miles away in the wrong
country. She thought of her mother back in Anikari and her father, who had
passed away the previous year. She remembered their faith and hope and love.
She remembered the God they spoke of who could comfort and help.

The nausea rose inside her stomach
once again. She gritted her teeth against the feeling. It had been constant
since arriving in her captivity. In fact, it had been constant almost every day
for the past few months. Realization dawned on her, and she gasped. Holding her
hand to her stomach, she only dared to believe what deep inside she knew to be
true. She had been blind not to see it before now, but things had been so busy.
She must be pregnant.

Two servants opened the door and
led her to the bath chambers. She hardly noticed as they bathed and dressed
her. He mind was far, far away. She reached out for Lighting only to be
thwarted once again by something blocking her communication. She closed her
eyes as they finished dressing her and prayed for peace in her heart and for
someone to find her soon. She couldn’t let the general find out. He was a
madman.

* * *

Mezar and his friends had a slow
yet uneventful trip through Denir and up the northern road. The wagon train
they rode with stopped at most villages and sold their wares. Through listening
to rumors, Mezar had discovered Darius and Christine were not back in Anikari
yet. Tales of their travels had them somewhere between Mar and Sur. They were
sketchy details but enough for Mezar to continue north. There was no news about
any troubles further south in Gildan, for which Mezar was glad. Maybe his
father had given up looking for him.

Tonight they stayed in Tean and
then would be in Sur in the next few days if the weather held out. Mezar felt
his ring pulsing with light and had to hide it in his pocket. It meant Leandra
was close by. He was excited to see her again.

Mezar and Leandra, a young woman
from the Realm, had become acquainted through bizarre circumstances. She’d been
used as a pawn by Sean San Ghant to spy on Darius and help to lure him into the
trap that eventually had him kidnapped. Mezar, initially a prisoner of Darius,
helped rescue Leandra from Sean’s clutches when he saved Darius and had grown
to care for her. The two had spent only a short time together in Anikari surrounding
the new King’s coronation.

Mezar had given Leandra a
necklace with a small light encased in it the previous summer back in the
Realm. It was beautiful and unique, but it also served a purpose: Through the
magic infused in her necklace and his ring, Mezar would always know where she
was. He felt bad at the way she had been mistreated by Sean, even by Darius, as
only a pretty prop. Darius and Leandra had made amends with how they had
treated each other. She had gone through quite an ordeal and decided to stay
with relatives in Tean for a while. He was happy she still lived in the area.

Entering the town of Tean, the
large wagon train of goods attracted a great many people from the good-sized
town, the largest one they had been through besides Denir.

Mezar snuck away to find Leandra.
He surprised her at the shop where she was working. Her back was to him as he
entered.

“Excuse me, miss, could you help
me find something?”

Leandra turned around and ran to
him. “Mezar!”

They hugged and made small talk
for a few minutes. She asked what he was doing there, but he motioned they
couldn’t talk about it in the shop.

Two other customers came into the
general store. Mezar faded to the edges behind some shelves. The men looked
rough and spoke with a foreign accent. One kept trying to barter on everything
until Leandra told him they had to pay the price or leave.

The man looked around the store.
“You all alone here, girl?”

She nodded. “My family is in the
back.”

“I don’t believe you.” The man
moved closer.

“Where are you from, sir?”
Leandra tried to distract him. “You have a nice accent.”

The man smiled. “I am going to be
from here soon.”

“I don’t understand.” Leandra
frowned.

“This land will be ours soon,
girl. Part of the Kingdom of Arc.”

The other man told the first one
to shut up and stop talking. “Just take the goods and leave.”

Mezar had heard enough and came
around the corner of the shelves. He smiled at them, and they looked surprised
to see him there. “From Arc, huh? You’re a long way from home.”

“There is no law about
traveling,” the first man said.

“But there is a law about taking
land or property that is not yours. That could land you in jail.” Mezar moved
closer.

The hardened men didn’t seem to
sense any danger from the slender and young Gildanian and held their ground.

“Where are the rest of your men?”
Mezar asked.

“Gathering in the pass,” the
first replied.

The second man chided him again
and grabbed him by the arm to leave. The first man grabbed the goods and
started to walk out.

“You didn’t pay for those,” Mezar
said.

The one without the goods pulled
a knife and lunged at Mezar. In a swift movement, Mezar moved to the side,
grabbed the man’s arm, and twisted the knife out of his hand. The other man
started to run, but Mezar brought out his hand in front of him and, with a pull
of air, lifted up a board under the man’s feet, causing him to crash to the
floor. Leandra brought some rope over, and the two of them tied up the would-be
thieves.