The New Age Saga Box Set

by Timothy A. Ray

  “Why have I been summoned like some common peasant, before a tribunal for a crime I have no knowledge of committing?” Erik demanded at those seated.

  The generals shifted nervously in their seats and it was clear they had nothing to do with it. General Jade coughed into his hand and extended it towards the other side of the table, where the bristling politicians suddenly had flushed faces and clenching hands. They’d obviously not planned on Erik actually making it to the meeting; much less criticizing them for calling it.

  He had to smile. Maybe, just maybe, they’d pull this off. He thought he saw the king look his way and wink, what the hell was that all about?

  “We were given to believe,” Haymdal cursed, leaning forward and glaring at the Speaker for the Seers, “that you had a mental break and were secretly confined to a bed. You have declared war and sent the armies into the field, yet you hide in your chambers while your daughter is still out there in the hands of the enemy? That doesn’t sound like the king we’ve all come to know and love. Where is this drive to do in the scourge that have blighted our lands? This bloodlust that so enraged the Council on your last visit?”

  “Now, wait just a damn minute,” Kaius broke in, rising to his feet.

  Erik suddenly laughed. “It’s okay Kaius, let the man speak. He’s a representative of the people and has the right to air his doubts and concerns. Though, throwing in the part of loving me? That’s a tad bit much.” The cavalry commander looked startled at the king’s laughter, and that only mirrored his own surprise as well. Even he wouldn’t have guessed this wasn’t Erik addressing them; Arthur was a quick study after all.

  “As you can see Haymdal, I’m not strapped to any bed raving like a mad man. While it’s true I got stricken by a mysterious illness quite suddenly and that my wife was forced to take my place at the head of the army, the rest of your concerns are baseless and obviously misconceived,” Erik glared at the older elf. “No, I think the question we should be asking is this—how is it that I became ill to begin with? Wasn’t it just after our last meeting? Odd, the timing of that. Then this farce of declaring me unfit so that you can take the crown you’ve always coveted for your own. Tell me Haymdal Greenstone, did you have the balls to poison me yourself or did your lackey do it for you?” Erik asked in a rising voice as he got to his feet.

  What was he doing? He knew full damn well it hadn’t been poison.

  “I’ve been told that an agent of the Phoenix has poisoned and killed my good friend King Constantine. Then I myself fall sick to a mysterious illness? That’s pretty damn convenient, even for a politician,” their sovereign growled, the smile quickly fading and forgotten.

  Haymdal had a look that mirrored his own. What? Before he could even try to stutter a response. Erik walked around the table, his generals rising behind him, not sure where this was heading or what they should do. He couldn’t offer advice, he wasn’t sure either. What had he done bringing the man here? Had he just made things worse?

  “Lady Larahredhel, this man has accused you of treachery and riling him up under false pretenses, is that true?” Erik asked, coming to stand beside the scrambling politician’s side. Haymdal shot a fierce look in the elven woman’s direction.

  Larahredhel rose to her feet, her stance regal as she stared straight into Erik’s eyes and replied “of course not, my Lord. Haymdal came to my quarters last night and asked me to assist him with his little coup. He then gave me this tale to spin of your mental state. I never intended to go along with it. Had you not exposed his insidious machinations, I would have done my duty, my King,” the Seer assured her sovereign, glaring at the now pinned down politician.

  He felt like he was in some alternate dimension. Where was all this coming from? How could any of this possibly be happening?

  “Master at Arms, have this man arrested and detained for further questioning. Agarhir, I expect you to see to it that the clerics assess this man for his own mental stability and ferret out the truth of whether he is an agent of the Phoenix or not. Can you handle that, or should I let Kaius over there have his way with the man?” Erik thundered, making Haymdal’s face do something Revan had never seen before; pull back in absolute terror.

  Stunned, he forced himself to stay seated, to see this to the end. Any interference at this point would only speak to Erik’s state of mind, as he would never question his King’s commands for any other reason. Still, this was insane! Had Haymdal been working for the Phoenix after all? Was this some fortunate coincidence in which madness drove out truths otherwise hidden by innocence?

  Broman got to his feet and clapped his hands. Three members of the Royal Service entered through the doors and were instructed to take Haymdal into custody. “You should take his lackey too. Wittingly or not, he’s assisted this traitor and must be examined as well,” Erik instructed them.

  “This is outrageous!” Haymdal suddenly screamed. “Can’t you all see? He’s out of his mind! I’d never—the Phoenix—I wouldn’t. Please, stop this!”

  “Get your hands off me!” Caleb screeched as a guard drug him to his feet. “This was all his idea, I swear. I didn’t do anything!”

  Though he knew that Caleb was referring to the calling of the meeting and supporting Haymdal’s position, he inferred something far more sinister and he saw Erik’s face break out with a winning smile.

  Damn, he was good.

  He tried to muster sympathy for the struggling elves, for he knew the truth, but it wasn’t like they were being put to death; more like house arrest. And the politicians’ attempt at taking the crown was over; he could see it in the eyes of all those gathered around the table. They knew who was in charge here.

  “Now, we’ve all got a war to win, let’s get back to it,” Erik commanded, pounding his fist on the table. As the others filed out, he watched as the doors shut and Erik let out a deep breath, nearly falling to the ground with exhaustion.

  He leapt forward and caught his King, pushing the elf back onto his feet. “That was—,” he tried, but couldn’t finish.

  “Haymdal’s not your traitor. That Seer is,” Erik breathed in quick gasps, eyes drooping a bit with overexertion.

  The door flew open and a golden armored elf strode through the doors. “Erik!” Amysta exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace her weakened husband.

  “Guin—?” Erik started.

  He cut in, “Queen Amysta, welcome back. Were you able to retrieve your daughter?”

  The king’s eyes widened as the woman embraced him and he could see the pain of the embrace effecting his weakened frame. “Where is—our daughter?” Erik managed.

  Amysta looked to be on the edge of tears, but as she looked around, she knew that this was not the place for that. “I’ll tell you about it in our chambers.” She then grabbed Erik’s hand, forced his arm around her, and began walking him towards the door.

  Erik looked to him for help, but he had none to give. “Sire, that part about—”

  The king paused and lowered his voice as he spoke. “We both know that story about Haymdal coming to her chambers was bullshit. Why would she lie about that unless she was worried about being exposed herself? Remember, all this started because the Seers had a vision. Who’s to say that ever happened?” Then the king stunned him once more by winking. “I told you I was a quick study.”

  He watched the two exit the room with his mouth hanging open. He didn’t know how to respond or what to do next. Obviously, he couldn’t leave the Queen alone with a stranger without some kind of explanation. But on the other hand, he couldn’t force his presence upon them either.

  And what was he supposed to do about Larahredhel? Simply accusing her wasn’t enough.

  Regardless of appearances, he strode after his King. Amysta had a lot of catching up to do and he was the best one to see to that. Shaking his head in astonishment, he followed after the chatting couple as they entered their chambers, and silently closed the door behind them.

  III

  After an hour
of fumbling through the dense outskirts of the forest, they finally happened upon a trail to follow. Which was fortunate, because without the sun to guide them, Tristan was sure that they’d been going in circles. Either that, or all the trees had the same twisted structure which made going forward that much worse; even if they got where they were going, how were they ever going to find their way out again? There were no birds, no signs of wild life, and even Tuskar seemed wary of the forest around them. Finding the trail should have been a good sign, but after a few minutes pure dread settled into his soul and he suddenly felt an insane urge to flee.

  Items hung sporadically from the trees along their route and his eyes kept getting drawn their way whenever they drew close. They were made of branches, bits of rotten leaves, and what looked like bone fragments. Which species had been sacrificed in their creation was hard to say, but at least one had what looked like a human skull embedded inside it.

  “Totems,” Merlin informed them as they paused to inspect one.

  The object hanging above them on his left was round around the middle with five bone fragments jutting upward and meeting in the middle where a thin long string carried it upon a breeze. Hanging off the sides were black feathers and perched on the top was a small skull, probably a bird’s by the looks of it. As much as he hoped that those were animal bones, some appeared overly large to be anything other than a large bear or wolf, and he had no inkling that either had ever stepped a foot within this darkened interior.

  “They’re warding us off,” Melissa whispered to the mage, yet to what end? They all heard her. There was a bit of uneasiness in her voice, lending him to believe that she had not known such beings had taken up residence here, and whatever made her uneasy would probably scare the shit out of him.

  “Who’s warding us off?” Willow pursued; stepping forward to get a closer look at the sinister object. “Spirits shouldn’t have so much control over the physical world that they can construct totems like these. This can’t be the work of the dead, but of the living.”

  Merlin only shook his head. “I’ve got my suspicions, but I would prefer not to give them voice lest I make them manifest.” Then the mage stepped closer to the tree and rapped on its outer bark. “As they would say in the old days, knock on wood.”

  “Yeah, because that’s totally going to help,” Reyna growled, rolling her eyes. “If there is any chance at all for things to go wrong, it will. It doesn’t have to find us, we’ll walk straight into it. You are a magnet for all things fucked up. So, cheers! Who’s the next to fall on their sword for the mage’s crusade?”

  “Is this how it’s going to be from now on? Constantly baiting him with snide remarks and ridicule?” Melissa sighed heavily, her eyes twitching as she looked from the totem to the black knight.

  “We’ll see how you react when someone you love dies. Oh wait, you don’t love anyone, so I guess all you have to worry about is your own life. How’s that going, by the way? Can you still feel the flames lick that body of yours?” Reyna snarked.

  “Enough!” Merlin snapped. “It’s obvious our surroundings are working against us, making us turn on each other. We need to work together here, not tear each other apart.”

  Kore had his axe in hand and as he looked up at the trees, his tusks worked nervously; his body tense. The orc rarely got worked up about anything, but he looked even more anxious than Melissa did. “Kore no like forest,” the big guy muttered, as if hearing his unspoken thoughts.

  “I hear that,” he mumbled in agreement, as the others finally fell silent and began moving forward once more. Willow had drawn her weapon and had taken up a position a few steps ahead of him, as if she were protecting him. “I’m fine,” he sneered, not meaning to sound so pissed but unable to help it.

  “I’ll believe that when I can touch you without you freaking out,” she snapped back.

  He sighed. There was no point in arguing, it would only cause another scene. Merlin was right, the forest did seem to make tempers flare a lot faster than they normally would. She had Kore in front of her and Reyna was behind him, so it really didn’t matter who was walking where, so he let it go. “Feels like the trees have eyes,” he groaned, feeling a tingling sensation slide up the back of his neck.

  A loud screeching pierced the air. The entire party came to an abrupt halt and held their weapons ready, eyes scanning the forest for signs of danger. It was coming from all around them and Kore nearly threw Willow to the ground as he stumbled backwards, eyes following something in the trees. Tristan caught her easily as the mage rushed to their side.

  “Seems our presence has been noticed after all. We’re not that far off now. Whatever happens, the two of you keep going and finish what we’ve come here to do. Promise me, no matter what, you two don’t stop for anything,” Merlin pushed, unslinging Richter and handing it over to Willow.

  She reluctantly threw it over her shoulder, giving Tristan a wide-eyed look in the process. “We promise,” she managed, and the mage gave them one last hard glance, then rushed back towards the front of the group.

  The mage’s voice drifted their way, signaling to keep going despite the piercing shrieks echoing through the woods around them. The further they went, the stronger it got. Kore’s eyes were twitching and the grip on his axe tightened, his armored knuckles creaking with the constant strain. Tristan spared a look to the rear at Reyna and Kylee, but both were looking to either side, scanning the forest beyond for threats, weapons held ready.

  Hands suddenly gripped his ankles and with a yelp he felt himself pulled downward. Seconds later his lungs were filling with dirt, his hands reaching through the soil, then dragging along above him. The armor he wore gave him a small pocket of air, but it was fast running out with his rapid breathing. Hands were pulling him on all sides now and he was forced to close his eyes to keep the dirt from tearing his eyeballs out. The lack of oxygen was making his head swim; his lungs were on fire. He couldn’t scream and as his vision began to fade, he wondered if the ghosts that haunted these woods were dragging him to hell and what would be waiting for him when he got there.

  Chapter 8

  Buried Alive

  I

  John was shaken awake by the hands of his wife and he felt her hot breath in his ear beckoning him to open his eyes. Struggling to rise from the depths he had fallen; he moaned when he noticed it was still dark and turned to his very pregnant wife ready to protest his early arousal.

  “John, wake up, it’s time,” the hoarse breath of his wife whispered again.

  It took a second for it to hit him what she was saying, but when it did, he snapped full awake, and sat up so fast he got a headrush. “Right now?”

  Jenna’s hands were holding the sides of her pulsing stomach. “The sooner the better,” she grunted, her eyes reflecting the sudden burst of pain she was experiencing.

  Jumping to his feet, he came around the bed and opened the door. Two Guardians were posted there, and he quickly ordered one of them to fetch the mid-wife.

  The door to one of the adjoining rooms opened and Aaron hovered there with an arm across his face, wiping the sleep away as he yawned. “Dad, what is it?”

  “You’re about to be a big brother kiddo,” he smiled at his son. Despite everything that had happened, this moment filled him with enough joy that it quickly pushed the last two weeks away and freed him to enjoy himself; even if it was only a temporarily reprieve.

  “They need to hurry!” his wife screamed from the bed.

  He looked frantically down the hall to see if the Guardian had returned yet. Then he went back to his wife and pulled a chair next to her side of the bed. Her hand flew out and seized his and he flinched. He had been hoping to avoid that part this time. “They’re coming, just breathe.”

  “You just breathe!” she snapped and squeezed his hand even harder.

  If he had been a lesser man it might have broken every bone in his throbbing palm, yet he squeezed back to try and lessen the choke hold she had on him. H
e grunted. “Babe, that’s my shield hand.”

  “You can strap it to your arm! Are you going to cry like a baby? Oh, that’s good, I can raise three kids all at once instead of two!” she growled as she squeezed harder, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

  He put a hand on her forehead and slowly stroked his fingers across her sweaty skin. “I’ll deal with it,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Oh, how big of you. Want to switch places? I’d like to see what you’d look like squeezing a boulder out your ass!” she roared as another contraction hit.

  He ignored her. “I love you,” he told her softly, continuing to stroke her forehead. His arm was numb up to his elbow and he was once again astonished by the strength of the elves, especially of their women. It took a strong man to admit his wife could probably kick his ass if she tried.

  Her body tensed, then relaxed, then she turned to the side and screamed so loudly his ears had begun ringing. He didn’t know how long it went on, or what was taking them so long, but his whole shoulder was starting to ache, and her forehead was coated in sweat. “Oh baby, I’m sorry,” she breathed in short grasps. “I love you too. Where the hell are the clerics?” Her voice raised in a squeal, amplified by the walls until it rang in his ear drums.

  The door opened, and two figures emerged from the shadows. A white robed cleric came to Jenna’s other side and he lay a hand on her stomach, fingers spreading wide. He began muttering something, but he couldn’t hear it over her ragged breaths.

  Slowly, her breathing evened out and her head was thrown back, her eyes staring at the ceiling with relief. “Oh, thank the Gods,” she groaned with pleasure. “If I ever tell you that I don’t want any magic used near me, you have the right to knock me upside the head.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled back, happy to have at least some of the pressure off his hand; allowing the blood to slowly flow again.

  The other figure was an older woman, the same mid-wife that had not only helped Jenna with Aaron but had also been there when he and his brother were born. “Looks like we’re already there. My, how fast Elves work. I was in labor for fifteen hours with my first. The head’s begun to crown. You need to push, Honey.”