The New Age Saga Box Set

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The New Age Saga Box Set Page 51

by Timothy A. Ray


  There were a few minutes of silence as everyone stretched their sore thighs and adjusted to being back on the ground, but as usual, the quiet didn’t sit well with his fiancé. “You going to tell me what’s up with the ferret now?” Willow asked.

  He let Melissa crawl up his arm to his shoulder and make herself at home stretched out across his neck, temporarily ignoring her question; which did not go unnoticed. Truth was, he was afraid to put her down lest something attack her. Though, if she truly wanted to all she could do—

  I’ve tried, it hasn’t worked. I don’t know why, Melissa whispered softly.

  Shaking his head, he motioned to let it go. Willow slowly nodded and turned towards the eastern horizon. There were traces of smoke spreading slowly upward and he felt gratification that the keep was apparently burning to the ground. He wanted to wing that way and dump some more fuel on that fire.

  “Got ‘em good,” he heard a soft purr and he saw that Trek was sliding against Willow’s thighs. Green eyes sparking in the noon light, he almost appeared to be smiling.

  He chuckled without having to force it and he suddenly felt better. “Yeah you did. Thank you for that.”

  “Hey, they deserved worse. And I have to tell you, I know they’re known for their horses, but their cows taste pretty good as well,” Trek commented, then proceeded to lick himself.

  “Out of curiosity, if you eat an entire cow when you’re a dragon, what happens—?” The look he got from the cat stopped him mid-sentence. “Bathroom?” he asked with raised eyebrows, smiling.

  “Seriously?” the feline asked, yawning and exposing all of its teeth. “Have you asked Melissa about that?”

  Willow started, her eyes widening. “Melissa? How would he do that? She’s dead. We all watched her burn.” She paused to look at him, her eyebrows rising. “What’s he going on about?”

  The cat snickered. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

  He shook his head and shrugged. “You should take your act on the road, be part of those traveling caravans that entertain the townsfolk. The orange jester who tells jokes and can turn into a dragon, eat a cow, and po—.”

  “Oh no you don’t Mister. You’ve been dodging my questions all morning. No way you’re doing so again. What is he talking about?” Willow asked him, grabbing him by his arm. “I know how he is, but he’s never lied to me before. What’s this about Melissa?”

  Trek eyed him with a mischievous smile.

  Thanks a lot.

  “Tristan!” Merlin hollered from his right and he turned to see the mage beckoning him. He threw a smile at Willow, shrugged his shoulders, shifting Melissa in the process and getting nailed for it, then fled.

  “Seriously? You don’t get off that easily,” Willow growled, chasing after him.

  He came to a stop in front of the surprised mage, who eyed them both as Willow rounded about and hit him in the shoulder. “You’re going to tell me what’s going on or the next one is between the legs.”

  “You’d actually do that?” he asked, backing away a step, hand covering his crotch.

  “Can this not wait?” Merlin interrupted, as Willow began kicking her leg out, making Tristan flinch.

  “No!” she hollered.

  “Yes!” he answered at the same time.

  Kylee was running their way and he rolled his eyes; now she had backup.

  “What’s going on?” Reyna inquired, eyes sparkling at the domestic dispute. “Want me to hold him?” The black knight had taken a step behind him and he was forced to turn and try to face the three of them at once. They were ganging up on him!

  Eyes wide, he looked towards Jared, but the blind boy only shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, indicating he was on his own. Another step and he bumped something hot and solid. Raising his eyes, he looked into the grinning face of the orc. “Uh, hi. Kore help?”

  “Kore help,” the orc nodded, seizing his shoulders and lifting him a foot off the ground, his feet kicking slightly trying to catch hold of something.

  “Not what I had in mind,” he wheezed, barely able to breathe. The three women approached him from all sides and he knew he had nowhere else to go. “Uh, Merlin, didn’t you say there was something you needed to tell us?” he tried, as he attempted to squirm free.

  “Apparently, it can wait,” Merlin answered exasperated, but not making any further effort to stop their harassment.

  Traitor! You’re the reason I’m in this position in the first place!

  Trek sauntered into view and if he’d had control of his body, he would have kicked the cat across the river. Green eyes flicked at the women, then back at him. He yawned, took a seat to watch the show, and began cleaning his toes.

  “What was the question again?” he asked, trying to shrug free of Kore’s firm grip; God this orc was strong.

  Willow was the first to step forward and she looked up at him, balling a fist. “Won’t need to kick now. So, tell me, what’s this about Melissa?”

  Kylee shook her head. “Is that what this is about? I thought it was something important.”

  Yeah, don’t even bother to find out first before jumping your brother.

  You know, this is kind of funny, the ferret yawned.

  This is your secret and I’m stuck getting jumped over it? Maybe I should just rat you out! he cursed within his mind, but she refused to respond. Typical. “A little help here?” he asked out loud, getting a puzzled look from all three women. He shook his head and once more tried to pull his shoulders in and get free. “Seriously Kore, I’m sore enough as it is.

  The orc shook him a bit in response.

  “Ow! What the hell?” he craned his head around, glaring at the gigantic warrior. “Trying to kill me?”

  “Kore shake talk loose,” Kore answered, rattling his body again, his teeth jittering together.

  Reyna stepped forward and poked him in the belly. “How long has he been talking to himself? Kershaw? Or has he’s always been weird like that? I’m guessing it’s the latter, but hey, what do I know?”

  Willow sighed and shook her head. “Well, honestly, he’s always been like that. It’s just gotten worse since yesterday.”

  “Hey!” he tried to defend himself. “That’s just not right.”

  “You’re the one marrying him,” Kylee responded, jabbing him in the left arm. “Kind of skinny, I don’t see what the appeal is. Is he at least good in the sack? I hope so, otherwise what else does he have to offer? You can protect yourself better than he can!”

  “I’m right here!” he thundered.

  “I know, right?” Willow asked, breaking out into giggles. The other two joined in.

  His face was flushed, and the anger was beginning to rise. He didn’t like being pinned down like this, especially after everything that happened, and now they were laughing at him.

  Enough was enough.

  The ferret jumped down from his shoulder and landed below his dangling feet. Then he watched as it shimmered and still remained a ferret. The three women backed up, watching wide-eyed as Melissa’s form shifted once more, then sprang upward, knocking him across the chest into the large warrior gripping him from behind. Melissa regained her human form, completely nude and pressed against him tightly; essentially making him a very disgusting kind of sandwich when considering the gigantic orc behind him.

  “Can’t—breathe,” he croaked, but she didn’t seem to hear.

  “Leave him alone,” the newly naked woman told them, her brown hair flowing in the breeze, her ass pressing against—that’s not good.

  All three women rushed forward and embraced her, each showing affection in their own way. The alien smile on Reyna’s face gave him pause and he had to do a double take just to make sure it was the same woman. She actually smiled?

  “I told you it would work,” Merlin smirked from behind them, a knowing smile crossing his face.

  Willow winked, and he was beyond furious.

  “Would you put me down now?” he hollered at Kore, who
abruptly did just that, making him land hard on his feet and rock forward against Melissa’s naked body once more. He threw up his hands to push away and touched naked flesh. Flushing even harder, he stepped out and around the four hugging, crying women and glared at Merlin. “You did this on purpose?” Then turned to Willow. “You knew?”

  “The whole time,” Willow smiled and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

  Furious, he stormed towards the river and got away from the hug fest. He plopped down on the river bank and stared at the forest off in the distance, cursing that he’d ever got involved with any of them.

  Trek curled up at his side, looked at him with a grin, and said, “women.” Then proceeded to go back to sleep.

  II

  Windel threw the blinds wide, with no regard for the pain it would cause him, the light searing his brain like a white-hot branding iron. “What the hell are you doing?” John groaned, his temples throbbing harder; he felt like puking. Crap, I’m hungover.

  “Sire, its mid-day and though I’ve tried to let you rest, I’m afraid that—,” Windel was saying as a steward entered the room, intent on seeing him bathed and fed quickly.

  He looked to his wife, but she was gone. Where was Jenna? “Where’s the Queen?”

  “—and your presence has been requested,” the elf finished.

  It was still too early for this, despite the apparent time of day. “Requested where?” he inquired as he let himself get drug out of bed by his royal steward and pushed into the bathroom. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been awake the night before, but the aches in his muscles and cramps in his back told him it’d been late; real late.

  “Sire, your Queen has been dealing with matters of court all morning but there are some that she feels you must handle yourself. I swore to relay her message verbatim; get your lazy ass out of bed or you’ll be on the couch—.”

  He held up his hand and cut him off. “I got it, I’m up. What’s so damn important?” Why was she up and not sleeping in with him? Surely after the battle the day before they had earned themselves at least a couple hours of rest.

  “Executions, Sire,” Windel told him in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

  He froze, then turned and glared at the aide. “What executions? On who’s orders?” Windel’s eyes were diverting towards the windows, the man didn’t look eager to respond. “Windel, what is going on?”

  “Deserters, Sire, for which the penalty is death. The order was handed down by the general of your army and expected to be carried out within the hour,” the elf answered after a brief pause, his face stern.

  He shook his head, pushing the steward’s hand away as he tried to scrub the area around his hips. “I can do that myself. So, let me get this straight. We break the siege, we spend the entire night—?” he asked with raised eyebrows, he actually didn’t know for sure. His memory was a little hazy after midnight and saw the elf nodding. Great. “—celebrating. And the first order of business the following morning is to hang people in the town square? Does that make sense to you?”

  “Sire, some men were discovered hiding in the dungeons this morning by the guards. They claim they had abandoned their posts and had taken refuge there out of fear of death, not wanting to die on the battlefield. However, one of the barrels we’d placed over that trap door was in the process of being moved when the guards found them,” the aide informed him.

  He was awake now. “What? I thought you ordered men to—.”

  “I did. Someone else countermanded my orders and had them return to normal duties,” Windel told him with a sour look on his face.

  John understood that look, for it mirrored the anger brewing within his heart. The battle was finished, but the war wasn’t over; agents of the Phoenix were still in the castle. “Get my clothes,” he ordered the steward. It was time to try and root this evil out once and for all. “After we get done with this, we need to scrutinize the duty rosters, make some changes to our staff, and start taking measures to prevent any further interference by enemy agents.”

  Windel was by his side as he left his chambers and strode to the throne room. Aides and counselors rushed past him in the hall, the occasional Guardian nodding to him as he walked by. In every face he saw only loyalty, yet he knew from experience that masks were easily worn, and he must have them forever removed. “As much as I value privacy of one’s thoughts, I think we should consider having the clerics begin screening all those within the palace walls, try to ferret out our foes before they have time to strike.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that will go over well,” Windel commented in a dry tone. “Your brother isn’t a fan of that type of—intrusion.”

  “I’m not either, but what choice do we have?” he growled as he walked into the throne room and saw his wife sitting upon her throne, listening to a commoner complain about his wares being taken by the army for supplies and not being compensated. He listened while she told the man she would look into it, then her eyes fell on him as he made his way forward. They were at war, they’d barely survived a siege from a vicious enemy, and still the people weren’t satisfied. It was well and good to be provided protection, but after the battle, they expected payment for goods used in doing so.

  The commoner departed upon his arrival and others were told they’d have to postpone or wait. His generals were assembled, and as he took his pillowed seat, he reached out and took Jenna’s hand; showing that they were a united front. Bendor’s eyes were bloodshot, his beard ragged, and he looked as bad as John felt. Brigette and Mark were armored, their eyes upon the dwarven general before them, an odd look upon their faces. Roland had survived but was still recovering; he made a mental note to check on his cavalry commander later.

  “What’s this about executions?” he asked the dwarven veteran. Tar Reiz, Uriens, and Noelani were filing in from a side room and he sighed, he’d prefer to handle this matter without their presence. Still, they were guests, he couldn’t very well ask them to leave.

  Bendor seemed impatient as he stepped forward and stood before him. “At a time loch thes, it’s important tae make sure 'at deserters ur dealt wi' severely, an' harshly.”

  “I hear they weren’t deserters, but traitors trying to open a secret passage leading into the dungeons. One that I had ordered sealed and guarded to prevent such a thing from happening again. I’m also told that the guards were ordered relieved and assigned other duties. Who gave such a command?” he asked the dwarven general. “Is it not a hasty decision to kill them before we learn who told them about the passage and sent them to open it? Should we not interrogate them first, uncover the mastermind behind this plot? After all, they couldn’t order the guards away, that had to be one of the people standing here in this room.”

  Four of his guards entered from the right, pushing six prisoners in shackles. Their faces were passive, but their faces told him that fear was lying just under the surface. He had sent Windel to find the men and have them brought here; they deserved to learn their fate first-hand.

  Bendor heard their approach, but he didn’t turn, just kept his unsteady eyes on him. What was bothering the dwarf this badly? In all the years he’d known the man, he’d never seen him like this before. He caught movement near the back and saw that Serix was moving amongst those assembled, eyes on the platform, scrutinizing every word spoken. He felt relief that the mage was well enough to be on his feet and wondered why he felt the need to be here as well.

  “Ah am th' general ay thes army, these ur mah men, an' their li'es ur mah responsibility tae deal wi' as Ah choose,” Bendor told him in a severe tone.

  He felt his anger stir. “You do not have the right to take a life. That lies within my purview. You are not on some distant battlefield, you are in the royal palace of Lancaster and there are laws to be observed. You’re not in a position to disregard the rule of law, General Firefist.” He turned his gaze to the six prisoners behind the dwarf and addressed them directly. “Why were you in the dungeons, who sent you there?”
/>   They looked at each other, shifting their feet, trying to decide whether or not to talk.

  Bendor turned, stepped off the platform, drew his axe, and charged the six men.

  Guards were reacting but were unsure what action to take. Their general was a well-respected, often revered commander among his men, and before their eyes they watched the dwarf attack the prisoners. The Guardians were streaming forward, not having the same reverence as the soldiers did for the dwarven general, immediately trying to intercede and stop the butchery that Bendor was about to commit.

  John was on his feet, not sure himself what to do, was his old friend really going to kill them or was it just for show?

  A man’s leg was swept out from under him and the dwarven axe fell.

  “Bendor!” Noelani yelled in horror, pushing forward. The two had been friends for a long time and he was just as surprised as the rest of them.

  “Seize him!” he bellowed to the guards, snapping them from their indecision. Three more had fallen and only two remained. His hand reached for his sword, but he had left it in his room, having rushed out to be here and not believing he’d need it.

  A guard reached out to stay Bendor’s arm, but the dwarf’s hand shot forward, and the man was flung across the throne room in a staggering display of power. Jenna had risen as well, and he stepped between her and the massacre taking place before them.

  Tar Reiz and Uriens had charged into the fray as well, and as the last man fell beneath the dwarf’s axe, they seized him on either side and pulled the angry general back. The axe remained embedded in the head of the last guard and as the elves whipped around, Bendor let out a howl of rage.

  “What is going on?” he heard from right behind him and saw that Bordin had arrived as well. This was getting better and better.

 

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