Pure of Heart (the New Age Saga Book 2)

by Timothy A. Ray

  They mostly ate in silence, all had been caught up to speed, and the focus on the next leg of their journey left them all to contemplate the days ahead. Melissa had told them that their destination lay within the Drago Mountains, a mountain range famed for being guarded by Wyrddlin; a fierce territorial dragon. Though it had been centuries since the last sighting, no one could be certain whether he still lived; nor dared to try and find out.

  “So, you say that we have two of these keys already?” Reyna suddenly asked, staring daggers at the magician eating across from her. Did she ever like anyone she traveled with? She even glared at her own brother from time to time.

  He sat by Willow’s side and took an offered bowl from Token, not daring to interfere with the black knight’s questioning. She’d been silent since meeting up with them and he knew that if she spoke now, it was after long consideration; her words would be chosen carefully.

  Melissa finished chewing her stew, then glanced around at all of them. Bleak had taken a seat on the ground next to her and was busy trying not to fall into the small cup of stew that Token had prepared for him. He failed, as the brownie’s arms suddenly pinwheeled and he fell headfirst into the steamy concoction below. Tristan couldn’t help but chuckle, catching a wary glance from Reyna for the interruption. He shrugged and tried to suppress his grin.

  Trek was curled up in Jared’s lap, and upon hearing the brownie’s wails, looked down at the nearby cup briefly, then lowered his head and went back to sleep.

  “We do,” Melissa finally answered, her tone resentful of having to repeat herself. She reached down and held a finger out for the brownie, carefully allowing him to climb out of the cup while she continued speaking; as if it were a perfectly normal part of her night. “We created these keys to protect Nimue from the Phoenix’s clutches. My sisters took the other three swords and spread them across the land, each finding a place to hide the blades in the hopes that their secrecy could be maintained. None of us knew where the others went, having never seen one another again.”

  “And they do what, exactly?” Reyna pushed. “Besides the obvious; I know what keys do. Are they just regular blades?”

  He had unsheathed his sword and was running his finger along the runes of the blade. Reyna’s eyes followed his movements, before returning to the magician once more.

  Melissa took a deep breath, eyes looking off to the east. “When we created them, we didn’t know what properties they’d be bestowed other than serving to unlock the magical barriers we’d put into place. Magic can have unexpected consequences or surprising benefits, depending on the purpose for its use. But yes, they are more than simple blades.”

  “Justice was forged by calling forth the essence of Air and instilling it within its steel. As a result, the blade can pass through any object as if it were made of butter, yet still do the damage that a regular blade would inflict. It can penetrate the toughest metals, cut through solid rock, and if you form an image of an object within your mind and throw it, it will streak through the air and pierce its target,” Melissa informed them with a smirk.

  Reyna leaned forward, “by object, you mean a person.” It was more a statement than a question and the mage was nodding along with her.

  Kylee stepped closer and looked at the blade in his hands, eyes glaring. “So, I can just picture someone and throw this sword, and it’ll find them no matter where they are and kill them?”

  He looked up at the ranger and realized the calculation behind those eyes. Slowly he sheathed the sword, the steel sliding from view, and earning him a sneer in response. “We can’t do that.”

  “Why the hell not?” Kylee thundered, Tuskar growling with agreement.

  “Do you really have to ask?” he returned calmly, staring up at her. “For one, we need this if we’re going to complete our mission and retrieve Excalibur.”

  The ranger’s eyes flared in response. “To hell with our mission!”

  “Kylee!” Willow scolded, getting to her feet and facing her sister. “After all that we’ve just been through, you’d throw it all away? What happened to trusting Merlin, to staying the course?”

  “He’s not here, now is he?” the albino Elf thundered, hair whipping around as she faced her younger sister. “He’s gone! He may be dead!”

  “We don’t know that!” Willow hollered back.

  Trek yawned, then licked his lips. “He’s not dead.”

  The sisters ignored the fairy’s comment, but he didn’t. “You know where he is?” Tristan asked the feline, still not getting over the fact that there was a talking cat amongst them.

  Trek’s eyes opened slightly as they stared at one another. “No.”

  “But—,” he began but Melissa cut him off.

  “What you should really be considering is this; if you were to use that sword for slaying this man you hate, what’s to stop someone else from picking it up and using it to slay you? Or your sister? Or Merlin? For there is no defense against Justice, it’ll find its target no matter what you do to protect yourself. Is that worth it? Should hundreds of thousands of people die for one man? I thought you crusaders were here to save the world!” Melissa thundered at them.

  Reyna had been watching with fascination, but now her face turned his way. “We could use the sword to slay the Phoenix!”

  Everyone went quiet, the thought having slipped past them. Could it be that easy?

  Melissa was shaking her head and he felt the sudden hope depart just as quickly. “It’s the book that needs to be destroyed. Kill the Phoenix and it’ll just find another minion to wield it, nothing will change. And the only weapon that can do that is Excalibur, which you need this sword to reach.”

  Kylee kicked dirt towards the fire and strode away, her sister fast on her heels trying to calm her down. “Let them go,” Melissa commented as he rose to go after them. “She won’t listen to you, and bringing that blade closer will just make things worse.”

  “What of the other, this Madera?” Reyna asked, eyeing Tristan as he once more took his seat.

  He leaned towards Token, “got any ale to help this headache I feel coming on?”

  “Ale? Ah got Grog, loon. Tak' a sip, it'll pit some hair oan yer chest, that's fur sure!” the Dwarf responded, snorting laughter as he handed over his flask.

  He took a large gulp and felt it burn its way down his throat, setting fire to the dinner he’d just consumed. A fuzziness quickly began forming within his brain, his body not used to alcohol. With a smile, he handed it back, suppressing a burp. Token nodded, then took another gulp himself, eyes watching the two women talking across from them.

  “As it was the element of water that was forged within the wood, it has the ability to change solid objects into water, without them losing shape in the process. While at the same time, it can harden water enough to walk upon,” Melissa told them, and he was suddenly glad Willow had chosen to carry that one. There were parts of him that he would prefer remained solid.

  “Seems kind of lame next to its kin,” Reyna marveled out loud.

  Melissa smiled and leaned forward. “Oh, do you think so? Imagine if the enemy horde held this weapon when it marched into battle. The castle walls would be useless. They could turn the wall into water and simply march through to the other side, devastating the defending forces with ease. No, it’s nowhere near “lame”.”

  He gulped. The horror of which Melissa spoke, refreshed his fears of what his brother was currently facing. An army with a weapon like that could easily overwhelm their defenses and his home could be destroyed; his people enslaved in hours. He shook his head with worry. “We have to ensure that they remain out of enemy hands. I’m suddenly feeling vulnerable out here on our own.”

  Melissa chuckled. “I doubt very much that any but those sitting here know their true purpose or what they can do. Obviously, Justice has been handed down through the elves to your father as merely an heirloom, none ever discovering what power it possesses. No, we’re not in any more danger than we were
before.”

  “Aye, but Ah still say we start a rotatin’ watch at nicht, lass, jist tae be safe,” Token broke in and he could see Jared nodding his head in agreement.

  Reyna stood and looked after the two squabbling elves just within sight. “Jared and I will take the first watch. Tristan, you should go collect your girlfriend; you two will take over for us in four hours.”

  As he rose to do that, he turned to Melissa one last time. “This next key, is that a sword too?” Had they not thought to create anything else or were weapons the only vessels they could think of to serve?

  Melissa smiled and slowly nodded. “Yes, the swords were handy and made for good components to our spells. Trinkets can disappear, or be buried with a loved one and forgotten. Swords, however, tend to be passed down through generations and held with better care and respect. So yes, the other two are swords as well. And Before you ask,” she interrupted his next question. “The next key is named Dragonslayer.”

  II

  “My name is Tar Reiz and I bring greetings from my King, as well as a promise of future reinforcements,” the elven knight stated, as he bowed before John.

  They had just helped break an attack on the castle and he felt like embracing the elven commander. Removing his helm, he nodded his thanks and looked at the others sliding off their horses behind their leader. Five hundred armored elves stood staring at him and he felt grateful for their presence.

  “You are welcome at Lancaster and have our eternal gratitude for your assistance,” he returned and bowed his head in respect. “Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Your men must be tired and hungry. My aide Windel will see that they are given quarters and food.”

  The elven commander smiled in turn. “I think a bit of ale might ease things along; if you have it.”

  Bendor broke into laughter. “Nae hae ale? Nae while aam in commain!” The stout man strode forth and held his hand out to the towering knight. They shook eagerly and the men of Lancaster cheered around them; celebrating their newfound hope.

  Then Roland strode up from the back, his face bloodied, his armor covered in gore. “Have a nice ride?” he asked his general, eyeing the man’s grimace when he looked to the glaring dwarf. Bendor was still talking to Tar Reiz, but the cavalry commander’s presence had not gone unnoticed.

  “If you want something done right—,” Roland muttered.

  “I’m not sure our dwarven friend feels the same way, best you go get cleaned up and let him get some ale in him first,” he laughed, slapping the commander on his shoulder. “Bendor! Let’s take our guest back to the keep and get some dinner, all this fighting has made me hungry!” His fellow soldiers laughed and cheered with him, and he let their morale get lifted for the moment. He knew it would crash once the horde came forth again, but for the moment, let them celebrate.

  “General Brasten, see 'at caller recruits ur pit oan th' walls an' th' woonded tended tay,” Bendor ordered his subordinate, then started leading their new friends into the city and towards the keep.

  Windel came to his side with a smile and dancing eyes. “My Lord, Bordin has arrived!”

  Bendor stopped in his tracks, breaking off his conversation with Tar Reiz. “Griedlok has come?”

  His aide nodded quickly, “General McKnight was inspecting the eastern artillery when she saw torches in the distance. She thought the enemy was trying to sneak around and attack us from the rear. Then a messenger arrived and announced the army’s approach. General Woodhurst ordered the cavalry to escort them in.”

  He smiled widely, feeling that spark of hope lit by Tar Reiz fanned even larger with Bordin’s arrival. “You hear that, my countrymen?” he roared to all that could hear. “Griedlok has come! Spread the word! The curfew is lifted and I want the bars filled with laughter and joy! Laugh so loud that it will echo south and make our enemies cringe with our renewed strength and hope! Long live Lancaster! Long live the Elves!”

  Everyone around him roared and a few added “long live King John” into the mix. Well, he didn’t feel like he’d earned that yet, but before this was through, who knew?”

  “I’m afraid heading back to the keep will have to wait,” he informed the elven knight standing nearby. “You may come with me if you wish, or meet us at dinner. But if I’m not there to greet my father-in-law—.”

  The elf laughed. “Say no more. I’ll see my men quartered and fed, then catch up with you at dinner. Better save me some Grog,” he told Bendor, slapping the dwarf on the shoulder.

  “Windel, go inform Jenna that her father is here, and have his room prepared in the palace,” he told his aide, who nodded quickly and departed.

  Tar Reiz had moved off with his knights and his men were busy finishing up their duties, so they could take part in the oncoming celebration. He stood next to the dwarven general and couldn’t help but smile.

  “Sure that’s auld Ah th' horn laddie? They coods burst us again at onie time,” Bendor asked as they made their way towards the eastern gate.

  He considered, not letting his smile slip. He had to keep up the appearance and keep the men around him in a joyous mood. He did lower his tone though, as he spoke to his worried companion. “These men might die tomorrow, or the day after. Even with reinforcements, nothing is guaranteed; our walls could fall. Keep sober men on duty, but let the rest of the castle celebrate. They may never get the chance again.”

  A runner was charging their way, and he felt the words he’d just barely uttered, were already coming to bite him in the ass. “What is it?” he asked with worry.

  “Sire, the mage is standing above the gatehouse,” the winded soldier told them.

  “An’?” Bendor pushed, not seeing what the emergency was.

  The man was trying to catch his breath. “He’s begun casting some spell. My Captain said I should inform you immediately.”

  “You there,” John hollered at a group of cavalrymen nearby. “We need two of your horses!” The men instantly sprang forth and complied with the command.

  “Ah warned ye,” Bendor growled as he climbed onto his furnished mount. “Ah troost magic as far as Ah can spit.”

  He just shook his head; what had he invited into their castle? Gritting his teeth and choosing not to respond, he kicked the horse forward, and raced towards the outer gates he’d just left.

  Music was already playing in the taverns and they had to weave their way through a mass of soldiers and knights eagerly celebrating around them. “It ay th’ way fur th’ Kin’!” bellowed Bendor, cursing the men blocking their path.

  It didn’t take long to cover the distance and he was off his horse and racing up to the battlements before Bendor could even swing a leg over his saddle. “Make way!” he told a group of gawkers standing near the top of the stairs, and had to physically push his way through.

  Standing just over the drawbridge was the black robed mage. His voice had risen, talking in a language none could understand, fingers mixing something between his fingers as his arms stretched out before him. Then with a burst of words, the hands opened, fingers splayed wide, and Serix’s head rose to look at the heavens.

  “What have you done?” he roared, rushing towards the mage. They hadn’t discussed what aid, if called upon, the mage would provide, and didn’t like the sneaking feeling that something horrific was just let loose.

  Bendor was pushing his way forward as well and came to stand by his side.

  Serix was suddenly unsteady on his feet, nearly falling as his hand stretched out and grasped the outer wall. “Doing what I promised, helping,” the man suddenly wheezed, his face stricken from exhaustion.

  “What did you do?” he growled again, hating the sinking feeling he was getting in his stomach, and regretting ever letting the man walk freely about the castle; he should have known better.

  The wind had begun to whistle around him and the newly lit torches flickered sporadically. The men around him shifted uneasily and Bendor went to stand on his stool and look out on the grassl
ands beyond. “Laddie, best come swatch at thes.”

  Soldiers rushed forward, mostly along the wall to their right; none daring to approach the staggering mage.

  He went to Bendor’s side and looked below.

  The wind had increased in intensity and it looked like the fresh battlefield had begun to shake. There were men out there retrieving arrows, searching the dead for any other weapons, and they had jumped to their feet as if bit. The moonlight shone brightly overhead and when his eyes adjusted, he realized it wasn’t the earth shaking, but the corpses their enemy had left behind.

  Glancing at Serix, he saw that the mage had taken a seat with his back against the wall, his hand massaging his temple. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m helping,” Serix muttered back.

  “By Goibniu’s beard,” Bendor groaned in horror as he watched the corpses begin climbing to their feet.

  “Oh my God,” he breathed in horror.

  All along the battlefield corpses rose to their feet and stood wobbling in place. From below he heard sudden splashes of water and pushed forward to see what was going on.

  The soldiers they’d ordered to clear the moat were climbing their way up the muddied side screaming with fear. The bodies they’d been handing up to their comrades had begun to move on their own. Burnt corpses rolled free of their fallen kin and began their way up, without the help of the fleeing guards.

  “Order th’ men inside reit noo!” Bendor growled at the nearest soldier, who stood transfixed by what was unfolding below. The dwarf threw something at the man, hitting him square in the side of the head. “Noo, sodger!”

  Dazed, the man wandered away to carry out his orders, obviously leery about going out there and carrying them out.

  “For the hour is coming in which all who are in their graves will hear His voice and come forth,” Serix suddenly blurted, rising to his feet once more. Whatever spell he had cast had certainly taken its toll, as the man could barely stand without crashing back on his ass. Yet, he looked upon what he had done and smiled with grim satisfaction. “Go forth and tear your former kin apart!” he bellowed to the unsteady corpses below.