Second Age of Darkness
by
Diane E. Lindmark
Text copyright © 2015 Diane E. Lindmark
All Rights Reserved
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Dear Reader;
I would like to take this opportunity to explain how this book came into existence. After I was finished with my first novel, A Solitary Stone, I asked my husband if it was a movie what rating would he give it? He said low PG-13. I was a little disappointed by this, so when I was writing my first romance novel, Save Haven, I was shooting for an R rating. When my husband was finished reading it, he informed me it was purely PG-13. This again disappointed me. My husband informed me that all of my books were wonderful and that he greatly enjoyed reading them, but he just didn't think I had the kind of personality capable of writing an R-rated book. Needless to say, challenge accepted. So when I sat down to write the post apocalyptic story I had in mind, Second Age of Darkness, I was determined to prove my husband wrong like any stubborn female. I succeeded. On my husband's rating scale, he rates it NC-17. But I would also like to let you know, that it is not my normal type of story. It was written for a purpose for which it succeeded. Though the story is excellent, it is incredibly dark. I think by the end of chapter 1, you will have a very good idea of how dark it is. If some of chapter 1 is too much for you, I highly recommend you not go any further. Now, all of that having been said, consider yourself warned and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you very much for your time and consideration.
Yours respectfully,
Diane E. Lindmark
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Prologue
"The beginning of the end began February 18, 2066. Though we remember the day it all began; who actually started it, no one remembers. I guess it's not important anymore, since none of those countries exist anymore. One country attacked another. They retaliated. A third-party got hurt in the process, so they retaliated, and before anyone knew what had happened, the world's governments had each used their biggest and their most deadly weapons. For some countries, that was nuclear weapons. Though, of course, I don't know what that is, but I do know that they were bad and they damaged the earth … Some countries used chemicals that only kill the inhabitants, but left the structures intact. Others used napalm; that I do know what it is, it's a kind of chemical fire that burned everything it came in contact with without mercy. This horrible, horrible war that consumed the whole world raged for more than twelve long years and it finally came to an end; not because anyone won, but because everyone lost. Our governments, they no longer had soldiers to send to attack, no longer had weapons to use. Just out of the blue on July 11, 2078, the fighting stopped; though the fight for survival was only beginning. So much of the ground was damaged, it was very difficult to grow crops." Lorna squeezed her son tightly against her. "And as you know, what our governments did to the air and the soil did not just make it difficult to grow plants, but also have children. Many people found themselves unable to produce children. Many children were born with problems; others were born …" Lorna leaned down and caressed her son's cheek "… special. That is why when your ancestor found this place where the soil was still relatively undamaged and the air was fresher and cleaner; he decided that our people needed to stay here. Those who chose to follow him settled down and started building a new life for all of us here. And as you know, it's only been now in the past fifty years or so that our harvests have been more plentiful; and that is why, my sweet, sweet bairn, when you are King, you must be a better King than those of old. You must take care of and protect your people as your ancestors have done before you."
Part 1
King Edmund
Chapter 1
Stargazer Castle, Scottish Highlands
June 18, 2231
King Edmund backhanded his wine goblet, sending it flying. "Lucius, are you insane? You really want me to kowtow to that peasant?"
Lucius observed his king. He was turning red in the face; not really good for a man of his age. At sixty-eight, his king was considered ancient; at thirty-five, his son was considered at death's door. Though of course, people had been living longer the last thirty or forty years with the improved living conditions, but nevertheless, that didn't change that they were quite old compared to everyone else. Lucius decided to provoke his king's anger and take another minute to study him. He was new to the Council, his predecessor having been killed for defying Edmund. He marveled at himself; even to just think of King Edmund as Edmund probably would get him killed. But since this was the first time he'd ever come face-to-face with Edmund, he decided to take this moment to analyze him; it might be his last. He had long gray hair, brown eyes, and despite his age, was fairly well built, though not handsome. And according to castle gossip, Edmund as of late had been even more bad tempered than usual. "No, Your Majesty, I do not intend for you to kowtow to him. I am merely pointing out the situation, which apparently my comrades are too afraid to do; and the situation, Your Majesty, is I'm afraid, dire. Our farmers have done their best over the past few years, but our crops have been plagued with one problem after another, therefore their yield has been less and less. Our hunters have come back with less and less because we're overhunting. And unfortunately, breeding farm animals has also been unsuccessful. We're in a bad way, Your Majesty. I'm terribly afraid to upset you; however, someone has to say the larder is beyond low. Your people are going to starve to death and if you don't seek some kind of tentative agreement with King Malachi, he will destroy us. Whereas you, Your Majesty, have an overabundance of old women and women in general; King Malachi is not plagued with this problem. His problem is quite the contrary; he has an overabundance of young healthy males, something we lack …"
Prince Christian cut him off. "Are you saying that our men are not up to the task of dealing with this … this pathetic peasant farmer? Who were his forbearers? No one. His ancestor was made King, he was not noble. He has no claim on the throne of Scotland, unlike my father who is a descendent of a noble line, the last of nobles, and by rights the throne of Scotland belongs to him and only him! We should not be seeking an alliance with Malachi! We should squash him like the bug he is!" While Prince Christian was speaking, Lucius took this time to examine him. Christian was short and not particularly impressive looking. There was a sly, skeevy look about him, and he looked even older than his thirty-five years. He was permanently ensconced in his father's shadow, his four older brothers having preceded him to the grave. Christian was a constant disappointment. Neither himself nor any of his brothers had fathered a legitimate heir, and Christian had n
ow been married for five years.
"I agree with my son. Malachi is an upstart and should learn his place. I'm confident that our men will have no problem dealing with him, but if my council wishes me to meet with his messenger, then I will do so."
Douglas, the oldest member of the Council at forty-one, spoke. "I feel a meeting with Malachi's messenger would be advisable, Your Majesty."
"Very well," snapped King Edmund. He turned and headed for his Throne Room. Pausing momentarily outside the Throne Room, he whispered something to the guard, then turned back to his advisers. "All of you, be gone! I do not need your assistance to deal with some irate farmer." Then entering his Throne Room, he crossed to his chair and seated himself. His two guards, who followed him everywhere he went, took up their positions to right and left behind the throne. "So, you are the messenger from my neighbor Malachi?"
The soldier bowed. "I am Captain Duff McNealy. I was sent here by my King to deliver a message and to await your reply."
"I do not need your name, lad. If I wish to address you, I'll merely refer to you as Malachi's dog. If you have a message, deliver it and be done with it."
Duff opened his mouth to speak. But before he could, his attention was diverted by a beautiful woman entering the room from behind the throne. She was moving towards him. She went down the few steps, turned to face her King, and curtsied. Duff could not take his eyes off the woman. She was beautiful. There was something so pale and ethereal about her, she almost seemed unreal. Her blonde hair was so pale, it almost appeared white, and her skin was a milky white as well, but her almond shaped eyes were very blue. She was tall and slender, though her backside was nicely formed and her breasts were full for her figure. He knew he was gaping, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.
When Edmund spoke, it was clearly to the lass, though he never took his eyes off Duff. "Slave, my britches are feeling a bit restricted. I want you to alleviate my problem by sucking my cock." Edmund enjoyed watching the lad's face go from lust to irritation to disgust in the blink of an eye.
The slave hesitated only a moment. She did not recognize the man in her King's Throne Room. She did not think he was of this kingdom. He was of average height but very well built, clean-shaven, neat in his appearance, clearly he had self respect and honor, something no man in her kingdom had. Then she corrected herself, Well I can think of one. She caught her breath when King Edmund commanded her to pleasure him in front of the other man. She hesitated, still not wanting to do it, and then she made her fatal mistake. She started to turn her head in the direction of the other man. She caught herself too late and as she looked up at King Edmund, she knew he had seen it. She would pay for that later. The only thing she could hope for now was to do his bidding quickly and hope to do it well enough that King Edmund would forget her momentary lapse in judgment. She moved quickly to kneel in front of him, undoing his trousers and beginning her chore.
Duff too had seen that momentary hesitation, the faintest attempt to look at him. Now he stared stupidly as the lass dropped down in front of the King and began to do his bidding. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. It made him sick at the sight of it. He felt a cold anger chill his blood with the desire to throttle Edmund to death right here, but that would not be serving his King. He looked away in a pathetic attempt to preserve some of the lass' dignity.
"I thought you had a message to deliver, laddie. Be on about it," Edmund said in a taunting voice.
Still looking at the wall, Duff began to deliver his message. "My King would like to begin with the statement that both of our kingdoms are having dark days. Though fortunately, God has graced us with different problems. If we work together, we can eliminate all of our problems …"
King Edmund cut him off. "If you cannot look at me when you speak to me, I have no interest in hearing your message."
Duff took a deep breath and let it out slowly and forced himself to look back at the King, trying to maintain eye contact with Edmund, though it was very difficult. The King had pulled the lass' hair aside so he could see a wee bit of her face and though he tried not to look at it, he kept looking at her face. Her eyes were shut and she was focused on her task, though clearly she did not enjoy it. He looked up at the two guards. They seemed amused by his discomfort. This irritated him even more and spurred him into speech. "King Malachi wishes to offer an exchange. Our plentiful harvests will be shared with you, as well as some of our meat. In return, we ask for peace between our two people and half of your unmarried women. This will also alleviate some of the demand on your food stores."
"You wish us to give you half of our unmarried women? Do you only want the virgins, or do you want widows as well? Though I must say, we would have a hard time finding any virgins much over the age of twelve." The two guards laughed.
Again, Duff felt a twisting sickness in his guts. If it were up to him, he would turn and walk out, but it was not up to him. It was only up to him to do his King's bidding. "We are perfectly willing to accept widows, or any woman who wishes an opportunity of honorable marriage. We're not interested in whores for our whorehouse."
He was interrupted by one of the guards saying, "That means you'll take whores from our whorehouse?"
The King laughed loudly at that. "That is a very good question, Jeffrey." The King turned back to Duff and started to speak, but was suddenly distracted with momentary pleasure. Duff quickly looked at the ceiling. After a minute or two, King Edmund said, "If you're going to continue to be so rude as to not look at me, this conversation is over." Duff bit his tongue and looked back at the King. He was biting his tongue so hard, he was sure in a minute he was going to taste blood. And though he tried not to look, he saw the lass doing the King's trousers back up, then she stood. "You know young man, you didn't answer my question." Looking back at the slave, he added, "Stand at the foot of the steps." She did as she was ordered.
"As I said, we are interested in any woman who is interested in honorable marriage and a family."
King Edmund rose to his feet, descended the steps, and stood in front of the lass. They were both now standing sideways to Duff. King Edmund reached out and touched her cheek. "What say you, slave? Would you like to go with him and be offered the opportunity of being a wife and mother?" There was something gloating in his tone that put Duff immediately on the alert. He knew no matter what the lass said, this was going to end badly for her. The lass remained silent a moment or two longer. The King caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. "Don't be afraid, I will not be angry no matter what you say. So would you like to go and live with his people?" The lass swallowed hard and then gave a single nod. Duff stared in amazement at how quickly the old man could move. He backhanded her so quickly it startled even Duff. The lass fell to the ground. "See lad, that's the problem with women. They're all treacherous, backstabbing wee sluts. Get to your feet." The lass did as she was ordered. "You know, I think he should see the merchandise before he decides if he wants it or not. Take off your clothes, slave." The lass stiffened and her eyes widened. She tried not to, but she glanced in Duff's direction.
"Your Majesty, that's really not necessary," Duff said quickly, hoping to divert King Edmund's attention away from the lass.
The King held out his hand to his guard who moved down the steps and placed a cane in it. "Now you're disobeying me, slave. Take off your clothes." The slave quickly stripped out of her clothes. Duff looked away as soon as she began unbuttoning her blouse.
"You know, Your Majesty, his complete lack of interest in females makes me wonder if he even knows what to do with one," the other guard said laughing.
Jeffrey replied, "They probably practice on each other." Duff had to fist his hands at his side to keep from bashing in Jeffrey's face.
"Both of you be silent," snapped King Edmund. "Go stand in front of him where he has no choice but to see you." The slave did as she was commanded to do. Duff had tried hard not to look at her. Edmund rolled his eyes and looked annoyed. "Turn his head back to you"
The slave reached out and gently cupped his cheek and pulled his head back to face her. Duff tried desperately to maintain eye contact, but it was impossible to control his eyes. They flicked down her body which was exquisite, pausing momentarily at her breasts, sliding down her belly to the junction of her thighs. He swallowed hard at sight of the thin strip of pale fawn curls. Silent tears slid down her cheeks. This humiliation was nothing new to her, but it pained her to watch the young soldiers suffer and she knew as long as King Edmund could make him squirm, he would. King Edmund derived great pleasure from tormenting and torturing anything that couldn't fight back.
"Turn around so he can see all of you," commanded Edmund. The slave again did as she was told.
This time when she came full circle, Duff forced himself to focus on her face, which was lovely. To his surprise, he was rewarded with a smile.
"Come here, now," Edmund snapped angrily. As she hurried back to Edmund, Duff cast his eyes to the ceiling. Edmund pointed with the cane at the ground. "On your hands and knees."
Duff's head snapped back to the lass. She looked absolutely terrified, but she did it without hesitation. King Edmund brought the cane up as though he was going to strike her. Duff said quickly, "If you want to beat somebody, beat me. Surely ye'll get more pleasure out of beating one of Malachi's dogs than you will your slave."
Edmund hesitated for a moment. "No, I think I'll get more pleasure out of watching you suffer while I beat her." He brought the cane down on the lass' back five times before he spoke again. "You know, lad, there's a trick to beating someone with a cane. You must judge the correct amount of force to bruise, but not break, the skin unless, of course, that was what you wanted. But I prefer my slave unbloodied." Duff stood there and counted every strike. It took twenty-seven strikes before the King became too tired to continue to beat her. This time, Duff did bite his tongue hard enough to make it bleed, only he did it on purpose. He made a blood vow that he or one of his people would visit back on Edmund a hundred fold what he had done to this lass. It amazed Duff that the lass never begged, never pleaded. She cried, but she did not ask for mercy, probably because she knew she would get none.
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