The New Age Saga Box Set
Page 7
The last time he felt the world was this much in sync, was when he was five years old, riding his horse in front of his mother. He had proudly waved to her as she stood by the wooden fence lining the stables and watched him ride in circles around the pen, the Horse master’s rope keeping them from straying any further than that. She had begun to return his wave when he saw a change sweep over her face. Her hand stopped mid-rise and she collapsed against the fence, striking the ground with a thud. He sat helplessly on his horse, screaming for help; unable to go to the side of the woman he loved. The grief had gripped him for months; the guilt over his inability to come to her aid a deep anguish that no one could soothe or destroy. He was told that she had passed before hitting the ground, that she felt no pain; but the helplessness still tormented him to this day.
He leaned against the railing, stared out at the night sky, and couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something elusive hiding in the shadows, just waiting for the exact moment to shatter his life to pieces. It had done it once, it could do so again. He turned to face his lover and waited to see if the world was about to drop from beneath his feet and plunge him into oblivion.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she reassured him, answering his unspoken thoughts. Of course, she knew where his mind was roaming, what the look of doom upon his face had meant. They had practically been raised together and had shared everything about their lives. She could read the fresh pain on his face and her fingers stroked his cheek in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I promise you, I will not leave you as your Mother did.”
Bordin, the King of Griedlok, had no male heirs; though not from the lack of effort. The prearranged union was a blessing to the aging elf, and it had been an agreed consensus between their fathers to let the two of them get to know each other before their wedding. While both kings didn’t believe their children would fall for one another, they had hoped that they’d at least like each other enough to stop resisting their planned engagement. It gladdened their hearts and lifted the tension when the betrothed children became inseparable; obviously in love. Though, he doubted her father would be that enthusiastic if he realized how much freedom they enjoyed when she came to visit. She should have been assigned an escort while in his presence, and Bordin would likely go to war if he found out it had not once taken place.
He felt the blood rushing to his face and looked away, taking in the night. “I know. I can’t help it.”
“Try,” she whispered, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. She wore a thin revealing nightgown and he fought to keep his gaze leveled; he still saw plenty to stir his blood regardless. How could he not fall in love with her? Prearranged or not, he’d fallen so deeply that he would have sought her hand in marriage without their blessings; she was irresistible.
She leaned on the balcony, the breeze lifting her blond hair, and he couldn’t help but smile at her beauty. “Jenna has begun to show,” she whispered softly. Jenna was her older sister and John’s wife. They had already been given a son, Aaron, and had been informed days earlier that he could be expecting another niece or nephew soon. Only a couple of weeks had passed since the conception and she was already showing signs of the pregnancy. He would never get used to how fast elven women gave birth. It took them a month to do what human women needed nine to accomplish. It was an amazing thing to watch from afar, but he didn’t envy his brother being at her side when she delivered. John was a strong man, but he was sure he had seen him soothingly trying to rub feeling back into his right-hand months after Aaron was born.
Despite the fast delivery of children, the inability to conceive more than two to three offspring in a lifetime kept the elves’ population from quickly spinning out of control. That was one reason Bordin could no longer produce an heir. He had two daughters, and his wife had been unable to bear anymore. He’d heard rumors that there had been other women, but knowing the man personally, and seeing the King’s devotion to his wife first-hand, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. Willow’s mother was strong willed, a force to be reckoned with, and the only person that had ever truly frightened him. His betrothed assured him it was simply her way of making sure he treated her right, but sometimes he wondered if it was also because he was human.
Their marriage announcement a decade earlier had not been well received in Griedlok. Their neighbors had left their eastern forest home to live amongst Man centuries earlier. It was their belief that the Elves could no longer hide from the world and needed to take a more active role in its rebuilding. It had made them exiles from their kin, as they ventured forth to create a new home among the settlements of Man, but that didn’t mean they were eager to have a human as their king.
He had a lot of fears to assuage when he was crowned, a prospect he found both daunting and incomprehensible. Elves tended to live longer than humans, so it had seemed unlikely at first that he would ever become king. However, the slow integration of human blood had lessened their longevity and Bordin was already one hundred and ninety years old. He would one day be king after all, and the only reason he had accepted that fate was the beautiful woman beside him. He would endure anything to spend his days in her constant presence.
She had been talking, but having lost himself in her eyes, he had missed it. The only word he caught was baby.
Wait, what?
The look of confusion must have been evident upon his face, because she laughed again as his blood pumped faster than ever. “Well, not right now, obviously,” she teased.
He coughed with embarrassment. “Obviously,” he responded weakly; as if he heard every word she’d spoken. The look she gave told him she knew otherwise.
“Yes, that would not be a good thing. I’m supposed to be chaperoned when we’re together. If my father knew that yours was not having us escorted around, he would muster his army, force march them here, and run you through with his sword,” she snickered.
He gulped, then nodded his head, remembering his own thoughts on the subject and hearing them nearly echoed perfectly out loud. “Right. It’s a good thing then.”
She laughed at his sudden discomfort, “I was kidding. You really need to lighten up. He wouldn’t go to war if I got pregnant, but he might box you over the ears for it. He was young and in love once too, you know? He’s been sure to tell me that multiple times when asking about my visits to see you, but don’t worry, I’ve told him nothing. So far. Besides, would having a baby be so bad?”
“Before we’re married? Yeah. Say what you want, but I can see the look on your father’s face. He wouldn’t simply box me over the ears, he’d skewer me with his sword, and take his time while doing it,” he whispered with reverence.
She shook her head, “men are so oblivious, unable to see what’s right in front of them until it whacks them in the head. You and I have been together for ten years. Even when we were children, we were rarely apart. To think that my father is naïve enough to not know what’s going—.”
“You don’t think he’s got someone spying on us, do you? One of those two he sent to train with the Guardians? Or even Jenna?” he ventured, fear leaking into his voice.
She giggled again, shaking her head in disbelief. “No, I don’t think he has anyone spying on us. Come on, really? He wouldn’t need to do that. He could simply ask if he really wanted to know. He’s my father. I wouldn’t, nor have I ever lied to him. He might put on that he has no idea, but he has to. It would be ridiculous to think we’d actually wait for our wedding day before going there.” She inclined her head and whispered softly, “if you’re really worried about it, I can tell him all about it when I get back, that way he has a few weeks before he sees you and has time to calm down. Is that what you want? I mean, John and Jenna obviously know, what’s the point in hiding it from everyone else?”
His heart froze, and she snickered at the frenzied look upon his face. “I think I’ll pass. I appreciate it, but I think I’m good with the way things are right now,” he finally managed.
“I figur
ed as much,” she returned, eyes darting to the lights below.
A look swept across her face; she was thinking of something unpleasant. “What is it?” he probed with concern.
She paused a minute to consider before answering softly, “I know I was just joking about it, and maybe that’s why it’s bothering me so much, but we were supposed to be married in the eyes of the Gods and my people before getting into bed together. As much as I try to make light of things, we are going to have to be more careful in the future. I am able to bear children now. I can feel my body changing, yearning. It would not go over well if I became pregnant before our vows are exchanged.”
Sighing, he shared the regret he heard in her voice. She was right; they were going to have to be more careful. As quickly as they had children, she’d be near ready to deliver on their wedding day, and having their child birthed out of wedlock was a stain he would not wish upon his firstborn. No matter how enlightened a society became, some old stigmas refused to pass into obscurity.
Not that he was ready to be a father anyway. He still felt like a child himself, how could he raise one? “Then it’s a good thing the wedding is only a few weeks from now,” he said, feeling the weight of the words as he spoke them. Weeks, and the home he had grown to love would be taken from him and he’d be thrust into an alien environment with expectations far beyond his abilities to perform. His hand found hers and squeezed.
This was her last visit before the wedding. With Constantine’s health failing, Bordin had recognized that the ceremony couldn’t be put off any longer and was rushing things along. The elves would soon be arriving in Lancaster, as his father was unfit to travel. Arrangements had been made, invitations sent, and soon his life would no longer be his to do with as he willed.
He forced the doubts away, sure of only one thing; she was worth it.
Smiling, she turned from the balcony. “Come on lover, let’s put you to bed proper like,” she purred, reaching for his inner thigh.
“Thought you wanted to be more careful?” he teased, pretending to resist. His body was already reacting to her touch and the widening grin showed that she was well aware of it.
“I think we’re beyond that tonight, don’t you?” she teased softly, using her free hand to slide her nightgown strap aside and letting it fall to the floor. “Now, would you like to do this here?” Her full breast pushed into him, her right leg sliding up his calf. “Or would you rather take this inside?”
He pulled her towards him and kissed her with all the building heat and desire coursing through his veins. Their tongues played as his hand went to her bare ass and squeezed. The pressure between his legs was mounting and he was quickly losing control of his actions.
Her hand grasped his and with a teasing smile she broke away, pulling him towards the awaiting bed chamber. He paused to glance at the heavens once more, blissfully unaware that this would be the last peaceful night they would have in the weeks to come.
V
Erik and Revan emerged from the guest chambers a short time later. The prepared food had arrived, and the messenger had set upon it eagerly; even in his exhausted state. He would quickly fall to slumber now that his task was completed, the weariness that he had been fighting would soon consume him. He felt a pang of jealousy; sleep was something that would elude him for the remainder of the morning. “Now, what word from the Scryers?” he sighed with regret, fearing the confirmation of the tale he heard incoming.
Revan began to walk towards a study further down the hall, speaking as he went. “The Pools of Ognar have shown glimpses of an army forming to the west. I say glimpses, because the pool clouded over not long after the discovery, making it obvious that someone is masking the horde’s movement. Not quick enough though; our Scryers were able to discern its location. The army is currently encamped northwest of Lancaster in the Tholrun Grasslands. But who knows for how long or in which direction it will strike? They were unable to determine the exact size, but it was staggering enough that they dared wake me from my slumber.”
“Heh,” he scoffed. It seemed no one was afraid of waking him from his much-needed sleep, so why should the druid get his?
Revan ignored him. “Could it be heading south to Lancaster? That’d be my guess, but I’m not the one that will need convincing. From that position, it could just as easily march on any of the races, even the Fae, and if it’s the dwarves, then they are on their own, we’d never reach them in time. At this point, any decision will be based on pure conjecture as it’s too early to speculate accurately without further study and better information of what we’re dealing with.”
“Gauging by what we just heard, I think we have a fair idea where the army will go,” he growled back.
“Are you sure about that?” the magister asked in turn. “Some could easily point out that the dwarf could be a decoy, masking the army’s true intentions. Even as the horde begins to move, people will be hesitant to act in fear of being seen as a fools, lest events transpire against their positions. A feint towards the humans and then a rush east would bring them to our doorstep, something I’m sure will be pointed out quite loudly once this information is relayed to the Council.”
They reentered his study. The fire had gone out in his fireplace, but the embers were still glowing. Hadn’t he just been here? The candles on his desk were relit, the fire rekindled, and the torches mounted to the walls set ablaze. There were comfortable chairs on the side of the room near the fireplace, well worn by the king and his advisors, and nothing would feel better right now than to recline in his customary spot before the fire. His back was aching, and he motioned for them to sit; he’d relax for as long as he were able. Revan took the chair to the left, his eyes never leaving Erik’s face as he tried to get comfortable.
“If not for the Scryers, I doubt even I would have given credence to the dwarf’s ravings. Old Constantine has his hands full with that one,” he smiled slightly, trying to lighten the mood; it didn’t work. “My gut’s telling me this cannot be ignored. We should assemble the High Council and bring them up to speed.”
He watched the druid’s face, gauging his response. What he saw reflected his own thoughts on the matter. The Council would deliberate, be slow to act, and would be unwilling to commit until more information was received. Neither thought there would be time for their purposefully slow process. “I don’t like it either, but it has to be done, it’s the law. The day we turn from the laws that govern us is the day we are no better than those savages out there on the plains,” the King muttered angrily, motioning to the invisible lands beyond.
They sat in silence for a time; reflecting.
“They don’t have to be informed of all things; at least not at once,” his magister suggested.
He eyed the druid briefly, trying and failing once again to see what the other was up to. “What do you have in mind?”
“The army will be immobile as those fools concern themselves with their own safety, rather than that of another kingdom’s. It will not be allowed to march quickly enough to make any difference, should they even consider rendering aid to Lancaster,” Revan told him, not saying anything he hadn’t already thought of. “They are politicians and will wait to see how the people will respond. They will be slow to act.”
“I will not let Constantine face that army on his own; it goes against everything I have fought for my whole life. How can we speak of unity and standing together, and then just abandon them in their time of need? And where does that put us once they fall? Divided from the dwarves, neither able to help the other as the hordes descend upon us. We must find a way to help them, to drive them back to the wastelands from which they’ve spewed forth,” he stated harshly.
Revan eyed him, gaze lingering, the fire dancing in his brown eyes, “Sire, I said the army would be immobile.”
His hand had begun to rise with his heated response, then stopped. He caught the magister’s meaning and began to smile. Yes, the army would be slow to march, but his knights wou
ld not. After a season of peace and endless tournaments they were restless and would eagerly set forth with little encouragement. They weren’t blood hungry, but the eagerness to feel useful, to use the skills they had honed, would overwhelm them and provoke them to action. Most of the druids under Revan’s purview would also join them and they’d be ready to march before the council knew what was going on.
He let it sink in, allowing the heat of the fire to warm his bones. After careful consideration and seeing no other way forward, he consented at last to the future being forced upon him. “Do what you have to; I leave it in your hands. The less I know the better. If it comes to it, I’ll back you, but if I don’t give them someone to point at, they’ll be easier to manage.”
His High Magister bowed his head, “as you command.” He then turned towards the fire, eyes watching the flames dance, the fire emblazoned upon their thoughtful spheres.
Briefly, he wondered if he did truly command the magister, or if they just happened to be temporarily walking the same path? With Revan, he never could tell. As long as they’d been around one another, there were still aspects of the other’s life and being that were shrouded in mystery, creating an image of coexistence rather than subservience. It was not something he would speak of directly, but at times like this, he couldn’t help where his thoughts turned nor what they imagined to be.
He shook his head in frustration; he needed to focus on the more immediate issues and not create more problems than currently existed. Revan was at his side, advising him just as he always had, and the understanding they shared needed no proof or testing of its endurance.
Neither spoke as they silently mourned the last moments of peace and the dawn of a new age.
Chapter 3