by Mike Shelton
Roland rubbed his hands together as if in anticipation.
The Chief Judge then turned serious once more. “And, Roland, watch out for yourself also. Things might not be what they appear to be right now.”
With that, Daymian kicked the flanks of his horse to move up in the line toward his counselor. He needed to see what was being planned in his absence.
Riding up behind the three wizards, the Chief Judge watched as their backs stiffened. Onius was the only one to turn around.
“Welcome, Daymian. We were discussing how things will be at the Citadel. We will be arriving before the evening meal. What were you and young Roland speaking about?”
“He is my counselor also, Onius,” the Chief Judge said.
“And, did he counsel you?”
“He gave me a few insights.”
“Ah, good,” Onius said, but he acted as if he was nervous. “That’s good for him.”
The Chief Judge knew from this that something was going on that he wasn’t privy to himself, but he understood politics and subterfuge. He could play the game as well as the rest of them.
“Have you found anything out about young Bakari yet?” he asked Onius to gauge his reaction.
“No. Quite strange. The boy never wanders off without a specific reason.” Onius flicked a quick glance at Mericus.
Seeing this, Daymian hoped Onius was still trustworthy. “Roland thinks it was the girl,” he said.
“The girl?” Onius asked. “So that is what you were talking to him about.”
“Yes. He thinks Bakari might have run off with Kharlia.” Daymian pushed out a laugh. “Maybe there’s nothing to worry about. Boys have done worse things for a girl than to run off with them. They did seem fond of each other, and Bakari was never one to get much attention from the girls.”
Onius visibly relaxed. “Yes, Chief Judge, that must be it. I wouldn’t think it of Bakari, but you never know. We won’t worry anymore. I am sure he will find his way back to the Citadel at some point. A shame, though, to lose such a good mind. He could remember anything.”
* * *
Later in the evening, the large party rode into the Citadel. It sat as a separate complex of buildings north of Whalen, the closest city. The Citadel used to be the capital of Alaris, before the barrier went up and the system of judges came to be. An imposing structure, the Citadel stood with a fifty-foot-high wall, thirty feet thick in places. Its gleaming spires extending from the wall’s corners, could be seen for miles.
Now they passed under the city walls, through a short tunnel, and into the greeting courtyard of the main complex. The buildings stood tall, clean, and architecturally unique, compared to the rest of Alaris. The Citadel was rumored to be the oldest city in the southern kingdoms, outside of Lor’l in Elvyn. Parapets, gargoyles, and oversized stone carvings covered the main building of the Citadel itself.
The Citadel had been the headquarters of wizards and kings for thousands of years. And, since the war, it had been the training grounds for the wizards of Alaris. It was indeed an ancient and imposing group of buildings.
After the war and the formation of the barrier, the ranks of wizards had been decimated. Wizards usually lived long but did not procreate in abundance. There were few wizards still alive from that fateful time, and they seemed to keep to themselves— whether by preference or by decree from the Wizard Council, the Chief Judge wasn’t sure which. The wizards, in part, divided themselves between the young apprentice wizards and the older, fully trained level-two-through-five wizards. Within the wizard ranks, scholar, battle, and counselor wizards also trained in their own groups.
Once inside, the citadel guards and men-at-arms left the Chief Judge and the wizards to brush down their horses and find some food for themselves.
Daymian ascended the steps first, as was the Chief Judge’s right by law, to present himself to the Council of Wizards. But, upon reaching the top step, Mericus stepped in front of Daymian and assumed control.
“Here to see High Wizard Kanzar Centari,” Mericus said, using the self-proclaimed title of that powerful wizard. “Chief Judge Daymian Khouri has arrived.”
The Chief Judge would not allow himself to be intimidated by Mericus, so he moved to step around him. The doors opened to him.
Being led down a wide marble hallway, Daymian noticed the gold and crystal lamps lining the room, placed every few feet. At the end of the long hallway, they were admitted to a sizeable room. As soon as Daymian stepped inside, he saw Kanzar, seated on what could only be described as a throne. Kanzar was a broad-shouldered man with a large, shaved head. His dark eyes and his goatee gave him an intimidating look.
“Ah. Daymian Khouri. Good of you to join us.” Kanzar stood and put on a smile that did not fool the Chief Judge or cover up the wizard’s omission of Daymian’s full title. “I hope your travels were pleasant enough.”
Daymian was not in the mood for social niceties. “Kanzar, what is the meaning of your naming judges of your own choosing? That is not Citadel business.”
“Right to the point, I see. Get it out in the open, and get it done.” Kanzar nodded to Daymian. “Very well, then, may we at least retire to my rooms to discuss this…away from prying ears?”
The Chief Judge followed Kanzar across the hall to a set of doors on the opposite side. A servant standing nearby opened them for Kanzar after a short bow. The Chief Judge received no acknowledgment.
These rooms were more ornate than the throne. Crystal lamps and goblets, artwork, and marble statues surrounded the seating area, which held a grouping of red velvet chairs, trimmed in gold. An enormous stone fireplace sat to one side.
Kanzar offered Daymian one of the chairs to sit in.
“You seem to be doing well for yourself, Wizard Centari,” noted the Chief Judge on his way to sit down. “You have accumulated more wealth since the last time we met.”
“Ah. I do like the finer things in life, Daymian,” the wizard said, talking down to the Chief Judge. “When you live as long as we do, you realize comfort and wealth are important.”
“Is that why you are stirring up trouble in the land? To accumulate more wealth?” Chief Judge
The two leaders sat and a servant hurried over to pour drinks.
After a long gulp of wine, Kanzar put his head on the back of the stuffed chair and sighed, deep and long.
“Kanzar,” Daymian prompted.
“Please call me High Wizard. That is my title, and this is to be a formal affair, right?”
Daymian couldn’t believe the arrogance of this man. “Excuse me. I have not heard of a new title being approved among the wizards.”
“Ah, Judge Khouri,” Kanzar began.
“That’s Chief Judge, if this is to be a formal affair.
Kanzar barked out a loud, booming laugh. “Well played, Chief Judge, well played.”
Daymian pushed through. “Now, High Wizard,” he said with emphasis, stroking the wizard’s ego. “Why the invitation?”
Kanzar smiled, and his narrow eyes almost disappeared into his fleshy face. “We share a problem, Chief Judge. The kingdom wants a king, and you are the Chief Judge. That puts you in a rather precarious situation, don’t you think?”
Daymian had not expected such directness from the wizard. He firmly believed in the judge system. Fair to all, it spread out the power, and it had worked for one hundred and fifty years. Why change it now? He had an inkling of why, and it was staring right at him.
“Personally,” Daymian began, “I think it puts those who are opposing the legal form of government in a precarious situation, like the King-men. Stirring up trouble and organizing two attacks on my life in the last few weeks could be considered treason. Do you speak for all wizards or only for yourself in this matter?”
Kanzar seemed legitimately surprised at this response from the Chief Judge. “I speak for all those concerned in the kingdom of Alaris, Daymian,” Kanzar said as he stood up in anger, his voice booming across the walls in the open roo
m. “The time has come for a change—an evolution of sorts—a strong king who can lead us back out into the world.”
“What about the barrier?” The Chief Judge wished he had spoken more to Bakari earlier. He knew the young scholar had a head full of information. And he wondered for the hundredth time where Bakari was but hoped he was gathering information about the barrier.
“The barrier is failing, as I am sure you have heard. Though, that is not your matter, as it is a thing of magic, which does not come under your jurisdiction.” Kanzar spat in anger. “I am tired of these games you play.”
Daymian rose to his feet. “If the barrier—which guards all of Alaris—is not my concern, as the chief political leader, then who governs this kingdom is not your concern, as the self-proclaimed leader of the wizard’s Citadel.”
Both leaders stared daggers at each other. The Chief Judge knew his own expression was dark and livid. He also knew Kanzar’s powers could kill him anytime the wizard desired. The balance in the kingdom had come from the lack of sufficient numbers among the wizards’ ranks. But he wondered if Kanzar’s desire for power knew bounds.
Kanzar’s entire frame quaked. “When the barrier falls, Alaris will resume its leadership among the other nations, and you don’t have the ability to be that leader, Daymian. It is that simple.” The great wizard took one step closer to the Chief Judge. Before any more words could be spoken, the door of the room burst open, and in walked Onius.
“I was not informed of a formal meeting between you two.”
“I have the consent of the Council and the other judges to speak to the Chief Judge on political matters.” Kanzar shot dark looks at Onius.
“We gave you authority to be the spokesman, not to speak on your own, in secret,” Onius retorted.
The Chief Judge saw a power play enacted in front of him. Due to recent events, he didn’t completely trust Onius, but at least Onius seemed to hold as much disdain for Kanzar as Daymian himself did. The Chief Judge decided that now was a good time to leave.
“I can see you two have some things to work out in the Citadel. I will excuse myself to clean up from my journey. You may inform the Wizard Council that I will address them after the morning meal tomorrow.”
Both wizards turned to the Chief Judge in obvious surprise.
“Address us?” Kanzar asked. “About what?”
“About the state of affairs in our country,” the Chief Judge answered back.
“I will go with you,” Onius offered. “To help you prepare.”
“There is no need for that.” The Chief Judge waved a hand in dismissal. “I will not need your services tonight, Onius. If I need something, I will ask Roland. You trained him up properly, didn’t you?”
Onius took a step back and then opened and closed his mouth twice. Apparently, the wizard didn’t know what to say to this abrupt dismissal, but, by the color of his face, he was none too happy about the situation.
The Chief Judge opened the door and walked out into the hallway. Two of his personal guards had stayed there for him, and they now accompanied him to his quarters, along with two Citadel servants.
Daymian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had no idea what he would say to the Wizard Council the next day. His announcement had been a ploy to grab the two powerful wizards’ attention. And it had worked. But now he needed to figure out what he could say to diffuse the precarious standoff between the King-men and the government of judges.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Roland stood on one of the large balconies on the north side of the Citadel. As evening fell, the fields and forest around the wizards’ city took on multiple hues of shadows. Far to the north, he could make out the faint silhouette of the Barrier Mountains, so named for the magical barrier that cut across their length, leaving the people of Alaris no access to the lands on their other side. Deep within the mountains was the kingdom of Mahli, along a few loosely held and little populated territories—at least, they used to be there. No one in Alaris had heard of or seen them since the barrier’s creation.
Footsteps sounded behind Roland, making loud clicks on the granite tile floor. It was Onius, his teacher and mentor for the past year, a man who carried his age well and his power even better. The man must be over eighty years old, yet he still held youthful features on his barely wrinkled face. Roland wondered if this was what he had to look forward to: a long and healthy life. The problem was he found being a counselor quite boring. Of course a strong counselor could control a weak leader and be the puppet master behind the king’s head. But he didn’t want to be behind anyone; he wanted to be in front.
“Quite a view.” Onius stood next to him. “The land looks so peaceful from here. You would think there are no problems.”
“But there are,” Roland said, feeling unusually somber.
“Yes, there are, Roland. And, in the days to come, I would like to know I have your support.”
“My support for what?” Roland perked up and turned to gaze at his mentor.
“For whatever it is that I need your support for,” Onius answered cryptically. “The Chief Judge will speak tomorrow morning to the Wizard Council. I fear his words will stir up division among the people.”
“Can’t you counsel him otherwise?” Roland asked.
Onius tightened his lips, and his eyes hardened. He took a moment, as if trying to compose his thoughts into words. The sun dropped below the few trees to the west, and dark shadows fell deeper across the land and, in turn, across the counselor’s face.
“He dismissed me for the evening,” Onius said, obviously not pleased, “and maybe for longer. I cannot tell.”
“Dismissed you for what?” Roland knew, from his conversation with the Chief Judge earlier, that there was now some mistrust of Onius, but the old wizard had served faithfully for decades. A dismissal was serious business.
Instead of answering the question, Onius asked again, “Do I have your support?”
Roland sensed the tides of power beginning to shift. He breathed in deeply and knew this was a pivotal moment in his life, one that would define his future. If the Chief Judge and his counselor were having a falling out, then Alaris stood on the brink of something disastrous. Roland also knew that disasters sometimes brought opportunities. It was time to see how much Onius Neeland really wanted Roland Tyre on his side.
“I want to be tested,” Roland said.
Onius’s eyes opened wide. He surely had not expected him to push that at this time.
“I want to officially be a full wizard.” Then I might support you in whatever it is you need support in, he thought to himself. He didn’t need to say this condition out loud; Onius understood his meaning.
Onius nodded his head slightly. “It will be done tomorrow, after the Chief Judge’s speech. But you will not be given any special treatment because I am on the selection committee, Roland.”
“I would not expect that, Onius. But I would also not expect you to award me anything less than I will deserve. The test is based on power and knowledge, not age.”
“Don’t push things, boy. You are not all that special.”
“Am I not?” Roland’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “You know I have done things these past few weeks that surprised even you; and, as you are so quick to point out, I am still young. What might my powers become as I grow?”
Roland knew inside that he held more than the knowledge of a counselor. He didn’t have the recall and memory of Bakari, but he did have a natural instinct for what to do. The potential of what he could someday do with his own magic amazed him. If Onius moved in for a place of power, Roland would be one step ahead of him.
Onius gave a loud humph and turned to leave. “You’d better study up tonight. It will be a big day tomorrow.” With that, his mentor walked back across the balcony and disappeared through the ornate double doors leading into the Citadel.
Roland smiled and experienced a level of excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time. He would get what he
deserved: recognition for the power he held. He was sure to surprise them with his power. He would move past level two and three and go directly to level four or five. A soft laugh escaped his upturned lips, and he spun around with joyful delight.
“What’s so funny, Roland?”
Without a sound, Alli had come up behind him, surprising him. He berated himself for not noticing her approach. He should have known this by her sweet, magical scent.
“Looks like I caught you daydreaming about something.” She pushed a lock of dark hair out of her beautiful green eyes.
Roland peered down at her. She stood almost a foot shorter than his six feet, but he knew not to judge her by her size. He had seen her fight when the Chief Judge had been captured, a marvelous and magical thing to behold. She had flowed in motion with her weapons and power as one. Definitely a small ball of fire. One that made his heart race.
“I will be tested tomorrow.” Roland saw no harm in sharing the information with a fellow apprentice, one who soon would not be his equal anymore.
Alli’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and then her eyes squinted with obvious consternation. “Why wasn’t I invited?”
“Onius was just here. And I told him I wanted to be tested.”
“You told him, just like that.” Alli’s hands sat on her hips, just above her belt of weapons so common for a battle wizard.
“Well, he wanted my support, and I told him I wanted to be tested. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”
A loud banging sound distracted them for a moment. They walked across the wraparound balcony and peered southward, toward the city gate. The thick wooden doors to the city had closed for the evening, with guards stationed out in front. Roland didn’t remember them being closed before, when he used to live at the Citadel.
“How long did you stay here?” Roland asked Alli.
“My parents brought me here when I turned nine. I stayed here five years and left a little over a year ago. It feels strange to be back. The Citadel is like a second home to me.” Alli ran her hands over the smooth railing in front of them.