The Path Of Destiny

by Mike Shelton

  Richard stomped a foot on the log. A decaying piece broke off under his boot. He thought of all the things he had given Darius again and wondered what else he had to offer. He didn't have time to give more. King Edward kept him so busy, and it was his duty to serve the Realm.

  What else does he want?

  He slammed his foot down again in anger on the log, breaking off a larger piece of the soft, decaying wood around the edges.

  Then a voice came to him, almost bringing him to his knees. “Give him love and understanding!”

  Richard turned around, almost as if he expected someone to be behind him. Of course there wasn't. The field was as empty and hollow as his heart felt. Yet the voice continued speaking again. “Give him real love.” He realized that somehow through the years he had forgotten how to give love.

  The sun had become warm during the competition and now beat down onto his uncovered head. He pushed some of his brown hair out of his eyes and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He had never been religious to any large degree, though he knew his wife was. She had taught Darius God’s words and the right way to act. Through the years he himself had drifted away from religion. “Tell me what the answer is!” he bellowed.

  Richard had never in fact taken the time before to think much about love. He remembered meeting his wife, Elizabeth, at a city function. She was the daughter of a rich city merchant. He had been infatuated with her beauty and sense of loyalty. Richard had felt more alive around her and pursued her from the first moment.

  But his role now required so much from him. Maybe it was time to turn his attention back to his family. Maybe it wasn’t too late. He left the field and headed towards the castle with new determination.

  He couldn't stay away too long. He never could. The King would be waiting. The King was always waiting for something. He was a good king and Richard had served him long. He would understand what Richard needed. He must understand!

  * * * *

  “Richard, where have you been?” asked King Edward as Richard entered the large private study of the King. “There is important business to wrap up with the trouble in Belor. Seems as if some fanatic is preaching that the Belorians are the chosen people and we are their enemy. It’s rumored he has used wizard powers.”

  Richard nodded his head, only partially listening to the King.

  “Can you believe that?” King Edward continued. He absently rubbed his light brown beard with his hand. “A wizard in the Realm again, like in the days of the old kings. Like those who caused us so much trouble before. They want, or he wants, independence. Don't they understand they would be lost without us to protect them?”

  The King stood up and stepped away from his red-velvet and gold-covered chair, which sat behind his mahogany desk. He began to walk the twenty or so steps toward Richard across the long marbled floor. This was his private working chamber. His favorite paintings and tapestries adorned the walls on the east side and a large polished-stone fireplace on the west side. The white marble flooring had been brought across the blue sea from one of the eastern empires by his great grandfather. The adjoining room was where the people in the Realm brought petitions or other business for him; the throne room. This room was where the actual work and decisions of the Realm occurred.

  The King had not changed his royal clothes since the competition, except to take off his purple cloak. His footsteps echoed throughout the room as he walked toward Richard.

  “There were some things on my mind, Your Highness.”

  The King, showing little compassion, but curious over his senior councilor’s depressed spirits, asked, “What is bothering you, Richard?”

  “It’s my son. I’m afraid I have lost him.”

  “What do you mean?” The King jumped with sudden interest. “He didn’t go somewhere, did he?”

  “No. No. We just don’t understand each other. He doesn't even care to be around me anymore. It wasn’t always this way.”

  “That's what boys do, Richard. He'll come around.” The King looked relieved. “He will learn. He must!

  “Oh yes. I will make sure of that, much to his dismay I am sure.” Richard paused a moment as if he was thinking carefully about what to say next. “But I need to spend more time with him and my wife.”

  “Richard, you are invaluable to me. I need you here.”

  “Edward, I have served you for many years. I do everything you ask of me. My wife and son, I am sure, think horrible things of me because I can’t tell them most of what I do for you. I haven’t told them I was staying such late hours to help you on negotiations for peace or trade, or meeting informants to stop rebellions and plottings. I have given you more than a normal man would.”

  “Richard, you are not a normal man.”

  A look of confusion spread across Richards face. This was not a normal reaction for his king. “What . . .”

  The King cut him off with a flip of his hand and raised his voice. “You are one of the few I trust to work with me. There has been quite a bit of dissension in some of the other cities. I’ve tried to make these uprisings seem not so serious. I don’t trust some of the lower councilors. They would use these things against me to their advantage. They see me as weakening, without having an heir to the throne.” King Edward’s voice rose in agitation and he stopped in front of Richard. “I always know that you won’t ever betray me. That is why I need to keep you here days at a time and through the nights to work on important negotiations and assignments I trust to no one else. I fear trouble on the border with Gildan is coming again soon, and now this trouble in Belor. Do you betray me now?”

  “Betray you? NO!” exclaimed Richard. “Never would I do that. I just need to spend time with my family. I don't want to lose them. Is that so wrong?”

  “In another time, or with another person maybe, it might be fine. You have no idea how important your family is to me, Richard. But I need you. I am sure you don't want to lose everything I have given you or could give to you, do you?”

  Richard was becoming extremely confused about what the King was saying. It didn't seem to make any sense. “I am not asking to leave, my King, but only that some of the others handle some duties. There must be others you can trust? Jonathon or Aaron?” His face reddened as he named the other upper councilors to the King.

  “Enough of this foolish talk. I don't know what you have been thinking. My father took you as a poor runaway boy and gave you land to make something of yourself. I have never stopped promoting you, until you stand almost equal to me in the kingdom. I pave your way with gold, money, art, prestige, learning, and power. I give your family everything any man in the entire world would hope to have. You have more power and riches at your disposal than many kings or emperors do. If you want less than that, then you will get nothing. I need you at my disposal always. That is what is expected of you as my senior councilor!”

  “Edward!” exclaimed a bewildered Richard, wondering what had gotten into his good friend. He realized his hands were shaking. “I have never seen you like this. You have gone mad. I am not asking to leave you, but my family . . .”

  King Edward paced the floor a few times, his face turning red, opened his mouth, then shut it again as if continuing to think. He slowed and motioned for Richard to sit down on one of the Belorian-made chairs, which sat in front of his desk. He moved the chairs closer together. Richard sat in silence and rubbed his hands back and forth on the carved wooden handles. Years of wear made them almost as smooth as glass.

  The King took the other chair facing the desk and turned it towards Richard. He sat motionless for minutes, looking up at the large painting some artist had done of the Everlasting Meadows.

  Edward took a few deep breaths, leaned forward, and spoke as if in pain. “Richard, I am sorry about your family. You are not aware how important they are to me. I . . . am.” The King stumbled for his words before continuing. “I wasn't going to tell you until you needed to know.” He paused, and Richard wondered what bothered the King so
much. Usually so direct and confident in his speech, this was unusual for the Edward There was nothing pertaining to the Realm that Richard didn't already know.

  What was going on? What is the King hiding from me?

  “My family? What of them?” Richard leaned forward.

  “You know I don’t have a son to follow me to be King.” His speech slowed.

  Richard nodded. This was public knowledge and had been a worry to the King, the councilors, and as well to the Realm in whole. Everyone had always wondered why he hadn't re-married. Many said he couldn’t find space in his heart to love again. Many councilors were already planning and positioning themselves for the day when a new king would need to be chosen.

  “Richard.” He looked him straight in the eye. “There is one who is alive today who is of the direct royal line. Even more direct than me.”

  The royal line. Who? I know everyone! “But you have no brothers, sisters, or children.”

  The King paused as he tapped his fingers on the arm of the other chair. He gazed with intent into Richard’s eyes and said one word that shattered Richard's world. “You!”

  Richard jumped back as if something had hit his chest. “But how? What are you talking about, Edward? This is nonsense! Are you just trying to keep me here by any means? Because this won’t work.” Richard stood up, red-faced.

  “Sit down, Richard. Now!” he commanded, then softened his features. Blue-grey eyes, almost the color of Richard’s, pierced his gaze. “Your father, Alric, and I were brothers,” the King spoke in a whispered tone. “In fact, your father was my older brother by almost twenty-one years.”

  “But he was so poor.” Richard could not believe what he was hearing. His heart pounded and he felt dizzy and light-headed. His father was only a poor bricklayer in the outskirts of the city.

  “Let me explain.” The King paused. “My father, King Charles, banished your father for something he had once done. It was before I was born. He even made him change his name from Montere to Williams. Your father left the city for a while and cut off all ties with everyone he knew. When he came back with his wife and son no one knew him for who he really was. He took the last name of Williams, a common enough name in these parts. No one would ever know him to be of the royal line if everything went according to my father's plan.”

  “What plan?” Richard wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  “If my daughter wouldn’t have died she would have been Queen after me. You must wonder why I didn’t remarry and have more children. My father told me on his deathbed in case something like this happened.”

  “Well . . . I . . .” Richard couldn’t find the right words to say. The implications of what the King said were more than he could get his mind around. Was he to be the next king? The thought seemed blasphemous.

  “The banishment of your father and his current family was permanent, signed with the royal seal, in blood, and is kept in my personal safe in the upper room of the castle. You were one year old at the time, so of course you don't remember.”

  Richard’s thoughts of being king crumbled with King Edward’s word of his entire family being banished. He shook his head in confusion.

  “My father was quick to restore the line. A little less than a year later, I was born,” the King said, pointing a finger at himself. “What my father, your grandfather, did was wrong, but I am not able to overturn his oath and decree.”

  “I cannot believe this. How can this be right? Wouldn't others know?” Richard thought about his poor father. No wonder he could do nothing else but hide. “The pain he must have had to see us raised up in poverty when we should have been in the palace.” And I treated him so horribly for it!

  The King looked at Richard with compassion and continued. “Stories were told at the time that King Charles’s eldest son had died in a war out in a ship on the Blue Sea. My father mastered the tale himself. He told the people he had sent your father off to fight in the war. No one else knew. Your family moved to the Crystal Lake area for a few years. Alric DarSan Montere became Alric Williams. He changed the way he dressed and talked, and picked up new work.”

  King Edward paused for a moment to let it all sink in. “After a few years your family returned to Anikari, living at the edge of the city, and nobody knew who you were. Even though my father had banished him, when my father died I found your father. I kept in secret contact with him until your mother and then he died, and I promised I would take care of his family. He was a good man, Richard. So you understand now why you must stay here with me, and why you must say nothing to anyone, including your family. No one must find this out until the right time, until I am ready to die.”

  Richard looked confused. Everything was coming too fast! His head spun and his body went numb. “Why is it so important for me to stay so close to you? As you said yourself, his family was included in the banishment. I cannot be king.”

  “But your child can,” King Edward said.

  A spark of understanding flashed in Richard’s eyes and astonishment swept his face. “So . . . my son . . . Darius, he could be . . .” Richard tried to breathe, tried to believe the wild tale.

  “He will be the next king,” finished Edward. “He was not yet born when the banishment was made. The crown will be restored again to the direct line and no faction can vie for authority over it. But he must not know yet. There is still training he must go through. He must become strong. One of the strongest kings we have had, to keep this people in safety. He must be trained in the ways of the military, of the nobles, and trade. He must become a leader and understand the politics of this Realm like no one else. He would be in too much danger if he found out now. There are many who would like to see no rightful heirs to the throne. If Darius found out now, his life could be in danger. If he died, there would be civil war for sure. Do you understand, Richard? Do you understand now?”

  Richard couldn’t find any words to speak, but only nodded his head as the King continued. “You must learn all you can now so that when I pass the crown to him at the right time, you can be by his side. You will be your son's councilor, if I can leave that instruction for him. A unique ruling team that has never happened. It will give you and him the extra strength that will be required.” The King’s eyes gleamed in excitement.

  Richard was stunned beyond belief and sat still for a few moments, then with a pale face excused himself to go to his own office. Before exiting the room, he whispered barely loud enough for the King to overhear, “He will now have another excuse to hate me.”

  He wondered if his family would ever forgive him for the terrible secret he must keep. They hated him for what he wasn't . . . or maybe was. Now he had to be even more deceitful. Yet he grasped the situation now and recognized he had no choice in the matter. He wouldn’t risk the life of his son or civil war. Despite what others may think, he loved his family and the Realm.

  Richard walked out on the western balcony, outside of his office. The landing overlooked the city. One day his son would be the king of this city. Not just this city, but as far as the eye could see. From the Superstition Mountains to the Blue Sea. He would rule from the forgotten lands to the border of the Gildanian Empire. He put his hands on his face and cried. He cried for the pain he had caused and still would need to cause his son. He cried for his father, whom he now understood, and he cried for what his son would have to go through to keep peace in the land.

  Chapter Five

  THE CREMELINOS

  “Father, come quick,” called Jakob, Haman’s only son.

  “What is it, Jakob?” Haman walked around the side of the large barn to find out what distressed his boy. His long legs carried his wiry frame up next to the fence where Jakob stood.

  Jakob pointed out across the grassy field towards a group of Cremelinos that seemed to be running, all together, around in a large circle. The large pure-white horses continued to speed up until the sight to behold became a dizzying blur.

  Haman Widing, his wife, and his son, were
the current master caretakers of the herd of Cremelinos on White Island—an honor passed down from father to son for more generations than any could remember. Although White Island sat off the eastern coast of the Realm, opposite Mar, it was the responsibility of one family. This family was paid and supported by each king. A small village had grown up over time in a western bay of the island to support all of the activity.

  Everyone in the village shared the responsibility to care for the white horses, from farmers growing fields of hay, to groomers, doctors, and caretakers. In current times four distinct herds covered the island. Haman, as master caretaker, cared personally for the largest herd. From this herd the king chose those that would pull his own carriage.

  As the man and boy watched the strange behavior, one by one each horse left the circle and raced towards them. Haman put out his hand and the lead horse approached, touching Haman’s hand with his mane. No man other than a caretaker touched a Cremelino without their permission. In fact, once they allowed a rider, that rider bonded to them for life.

  A soft voice filled Haman’s head as the horse stayed in contact with his hand. It took a few minutes of concentration for him to recognize what was being said.

  Master caretaker, a wizard has found his power again. A true wizard of royal birth walks the Realm again.

  Haman could feel the excitement in the horse’s voice.

  “Father, what did she say?” asked Jakob.

  “They are excited about a wizard in the Realm again.”

  “A wizard? Really? I want to see a wizard, papa. Is he old like in the stories? Does he do magic? What’s his name?”