The New Age Saga Box Set

by Timothy A. Ray

  His stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing his brother again. How would that end? Getting socked in the jaw or in a brotherly embrace? He nodded as the king broke away and headed towards the dining hall.

  With Derek at his side, he went to change out of his armor.

  Even though he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep, he knew that he needed to eat, or he’d be even worse off in the morning. Besides, how could he deny the king, especially after the gifts he’d just been presented? He shook his head in wonder, would he ever prove himself worthy of their trust and confidence? Would anything he did ever be enough?

  Stepping through the door to his room, he let Derek shut the door and began fiddling with his armor straps; he had a feast to get to.

  III

  Revan walked from the palace to the gardens lying beyond. The walkways were made of stone, but the rest of the world around him was a vast display of multiple species of plants woven together into a tapestry of pure beauty. It had taken centuries to achieve and the elves were nothing if not patient people. He walked along the path to the right and felt the presence of magic ahead near the base of an old willow tree.

  The irony was not lost on him.

  Shirl was sitting next to Trek, the two of them having a heated conversation, and he coughed rudely to interrupt their debate. “I think it’s time you and I had a discussion.”

  “With me? About what?” the sprite responded, getting to her feet and taking flight. She came to hover right before him, and Revan felt the large green eyes of the feline following after.

  He glared at the sprite, letting his magic roll through him to increase the intensity of his presence. “You know damn well why I’m here. I don’t know what the two of you are up to with this Sprit Mother of yours, but what you just did to that young girl was unacceptable, no matter what your intentions are.”

  “I did exactly what I was told,” Shirl answered with a sniff of indignation.

  “What you did was tell a pregnant teenager that she has to kill herself in order to save everybody she loves! How dare you put that on her shoulders!” he raged. He had planned a calmer approach, but that was out the window now.

  Shirl pursed her lips and shook her head. “All I did was tell her was that she was going to have to make a choice, her life or everyone else’s. What she does with that is up to her,” the sprite told him and actually tried to make it sound like it was just that simple.

  “That’s not a choice at all,” he told the tiny girl. “How could she choose anything else now? Did it ever occur to you that when that time comes, it might have been something that had to be of free will and without coercion? How can she do that now that she knows what will happen if she refuses? And why her? She is pregnant, what of the baby?”

  “I’m not coercing anybody! I’m just doing what I was bidden, and the Spirit Mother wouldn’t have asked it of me if it weren’t important; if it wasn’t the right thing to do. And she does have a choice!” the sprite countered.

  He growled and the sprite fluttered her wings and flew a few feet backwards. “To what, let everyone she loves die around her? How can you expect her to say no?”

  Trek pawed his way closer and looked up at him. “I will not let anything happen to her. I made an oath to protect her and I will do that no matter what it takes.”

  “That’s nice and all, but that doesn’t change anything, does it? How can you save her from what lies ahead?” Revan asked in turn, not taking his eyes from the fluttering sprite.

  “By making sure it doesn’t come to that,” Trek answered seriously, green eyes boring into him. “If we anticipate what starts it, then maybe we can stop whatever it is before it happens.”

  That gave the druid pause; he hadn’t considered that. “Do you know what we’re looking for?” Was there possibly a way to save Willow and her baby after all?

  Trek looked to Shirl, his tongue lapping over his teeth. “That’s what we were just discussing. She claims not to know.”

  “You mean you don’t actually know what it is Willow is supposed to save us from? What kind of crap is that?” Revan thundered, taking a step towards the hovering sprite.

  “Look,” the tiny girl began, then paused as if trying to figure out how to continue. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. I didn’t even want to come. I have lived in the forest my entire life, spending most of it on my own or in the company of just the Spirit Mother. I don’t have any—”

  “Social skills?” Revan ventured and the little girl nodded.

  She was wringing her hands now, her face full of remorse, and for a brief second his anger slipped a notch. “She warned me that I wouldn’t be ready for this; she was right. I could have handled it better. I just didn’t know how.”

  He saw then what he was really looking at, a scared little girl far from home. Now he knew why she was out here hiding in the gardens. “You want to make it up to her?” Two tiny eyes rose to meet his and he saw the subtle nod of her head. “Help me stop whatever this is in its tracks, give her a chance to not have to make this horrible decision, and assure that she lives a long and fruitful life with her man and their baby.”

  “How do we do that?” the sprite asked, her voice shrill and tinged with hope.

  “Start at the beginning, tell me everything you know.”

  Chapter 21

  Reunion

  I

  Tristan stood on the steps of the palace, armor polished, his new shield strapped to his arm. His helm had been left in the room, as it was for the rest of the assembled knights on the steps and grounds before him. They were standing in formation on either side and there was a clear path for the returning knights to ride to the palace steps, then turn right towards the Knight’s Hall beyond.

  The main forces of the armies were encamped just outside the walls, while the elves tried to figure out how they were going to shelter and feed so many. The supply trains would do that for a while, but no one knew for sure how long they’d be there, and it was always best to plan for the worst.

  He had wanted to be present when the Lancaster and Griedlok armies approached the outer wall, but Erik had insisted that his place was here with the rest of his knights. Pendoran was on his right, the king on his left. On a step behind their men stood Willow and Amysta, as well as a fair-haired elf he’d never met with a hand on Pendoran’s shoulder. He didn’t know the man was married. Then again, what did he really know about any of them? Or they of him?

  He could hear the cheers of the assembled populace and knew that the knights had reentered the city. His heart thundered in his chest; the moment of their arrival was at hand. Banners with the Forlorn crest and that of the Knights of the Realm whipped in the wind; almost as if it had increased by the excitement of the cheering crowd. He felt Willow’s hand fall on his own shoulder and he smiled with the comfort that brought. It wasn’t enough to slow the beating of his heart, but it took the edge off his nerves.

  The sound of the crowds grew louder as they welcomed their knights home and he felt Pendoran’s feet shift by his side. The commander had only so much strength to call upon and he knew that the elf’s force of will was the only thing still keeping the man on his feet. A squire hung close by his side, ready to catch him if needed, but by the stern look on Pendoran’s face, he knew the elf would rather die before letting that happen.

  Mounted knights rode into view and he couldn’t help but smile along with the rest of the assembled elves around him. The generals snapped to attention and Pendoran raised his hand in greeting to the two riders at the front of the formation. They were clearly knights, and he guessed by the descriptions he’d been given that the figure on the left was Tar Reiz. The elf at his side wore similar armor but looked more damaged from multiple battles than his companions. He looked a bit like the druid that he had been working with and he realized that this must be the boy’s father, Uriens.

  They came to a stop at the base of the steps and turned their horses to watch the rest of
their men file past in the direction of the Knight’s Hall. Erik smiled at each of the faces that turned his way and raised his hand several times to acknowledge his gratitude for their victory and safe return home. As the last of the knights disappeared down the winding road south, Tar Reiz and Uriens walked up the steps and stopped just below where their King was standing.

  “Welcome home,” Erik told the elves, who each bowed in respect for their sovereign.

  “It’s good to be back,” Tar Reiz acknowledged. “I’ve got a full report ready whenever you want it.”

  Uriens shifted a bit uneasily at the knight’s side. “I’m sure that can wait til tomorrow morning.”

  Erik nodded. “I want to know every detail and unfortunately, tonight I’ll be too wrapped up to give it my full attention.”

  As if to emphasize the point, the cheering got louder once more. Five individuals rode side by side, their retainers and bodyguards marching proudly on their flank; eyes constantly scanning the crowd for perceived threats. Four of them were on horses, the last on a very large feline that supported a round armored dwarf upon its back.

  Tar Reiz looked like he wanted to go on, but Pendoran motioned for him to come stand by his side. He did so, but reluctantly. A whispered conversation began between the two elves, but he tuned it out. Uriens had gone to stand next to his commander, General Jade, and his view of the new arrivals became unobstructed.

  John was fully armored and riding with his back straight, his face devoid of emotion as he studied the group awaiting his arrival. His brother’s eyes passed over him but did not appear to show any recognition of what he was seeing. Riding on John’s left were Windel and Bordin, and the older elf’s face lit up when his gaze fell upon Willow. Serix was on the right between John and Noelani, and when the cold eyes of the mage found his, he knew there was no doubt that the man knew exactly who he was looking at.

  Bordin’s eyes followed the hand lying on his shoulder and when the elf finally met his gaze, he saw the rising of the eyebrows and drop of the jaw. He had time to look at himself now and he knew that it was Constantine the older elf was now seeing reflected in his face. The elf nudged Windel riding by his side and nodded Tristan’s way. The Guardian had spent a lot of time watching over him and though the young elf tried to hide his own amazement; he failed horribly at it.

  The riders halted their approach and one after another slid from their horses. Bordin, John, and Noelani took the last remaining steps towards the stairs of the palace, but Erik interrupted their advance by stepping down to meet them instead. With an arm extended, he shook hands with John, a large smile upon the elf’s face.

  “Thank you for coming, I know you’re taking a big risk after everything you just went through. It means a lot that you came anyway,” Erik told John, releasing the man and shaking Bordin’s hand next. “Glad to see you again, wish it were for different reasons.”

  Bordin’s eyes hadn’t left Willow or Tristan and the elder king nodded his head absently to acknowledge the other’s comments. He shifted uneasily under Bordin’s gaze and Willow’s fingers tapped his shoulder as if to command him to calm down.

  Erik looked down at the dwarven warrior glaring up at him and he bent his knees to extend his hand to the grim soldier. “It’s been a long time since a dwarf has walked these palace walls, let’s hope it’s not the last.”

  Noelani gripped the king’s hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “Hiner ye got some Grog in thaur, cuz I’m aw it laddie. Bin supplyin' thes lot fur longer than Ah thooght I’d be.”

  Erik chuckled. “Believe it or not, I think we do. We’ll break open as much ale, Grog, and wine caskets as needed and drink ourselves under the tables.”

  “Aye, an elf micht be doon thaur, but thes dwarf will still be skitin' laddie,” Noelani countered with a large grin.

  “Well, at least we’ll see eye to eye,” Pendoran remarked and the dwarven general burst into fresh laughter.

  As all of this was going on, he had kept his eyes glued to those conversing and suddenly felt a pair of eyes focus on him. Turning his head, he met John’s gaze; his brother had recognized him at last. John’s eyes shifted to Willow, then back to him, following the frame of his body from head to toe, then resting on his eyes once more. With a firm set of his mouth, he shook his head and Tristan could see that this was going to be a long-winded conversation.

  “Later,” he mouthed and reluctantly John nodded in response.

  “I would like to introduce Windel, my chief aide,” John announced, catching him off guard. So, that’s why the elf was riding by John’s side instead of taking his place with the rest of the Guardians. He had noticed the change in clothing but hadn’t considered what it meant until just now.

  “Didn’t your father used to be one of my military advisors?” Erik asked the man and he watched as Windel nodded in return. “He was a good man, I was sorry to lose him.”

  Windel bowed his head. “Thank you, Sire.”

  John motioned to the dark robed figure by his side. “And this is Serix, my High Magister.”

  His mind was reeling; since when did Lancaster have a magister? He looked to the mage and watched as Serix bowed his head out of respect and accepted Erik’s offered hand.

  “You are most welcome here. Come, your rooms within the palace have been prepared. Feel free to change out of your armor and bathe. My cooks are already underway, and we should be ready to eat within the hour. I’m sure it’ll beat the field rations you’ve been eating on your way here,” Erik offered, and the guests all bowed their heads and began following the king up the stairs.

  Willow would not wait any longer, she stepped over to her father and threw herself into his arms. “Daddy!” Bordin almost stumbled but he recovered quickly as he embraced his daughter. Then Tristan saw a change come across the elder elf’s face as he realized that something was pushing against his own stout stomach.

  “You’re so fucked,” John groaned in his direction.

  “Damn, I forgot he didn’t know. I think you’re right,” he mumbled under his breath at the same time. He had been so caught up with John that he hadn’t thought of what might happen when the Elven King found out that Willow was pregnant. He was suddenly glad he had his shield strapped to his arm, as it looked like he was about to have to use it.

  II

  Tristan paced restlessly on the balcony of his chambers, his head throbbing from the tongue lashings he’d received and the booze. Her father was not happy at all about his daughter’s pregnancy, especially since they weren’t married yet, and even the news that it was already underway and just waiting on him to arrive did nothing to soothe the man. They were going to be married in two days and the baby’s birth was at least another week off. They had time, he had argued, but that didn’t matter; Bordin was furious.

  Willow had brought a bottle of wine back with them to their room and he watched as she took a sip from her glass. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she waved him off. “A little won’t hurt her but my increased heart rate and blood pressure might.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “I don’t think there’s wine enough in the world to slow my heart rate right now.”

  “He’s just looking out for his little girl. What did you expect him to do?” she asked softly as she came to stand by his side.

  He let out a sigh. “I don’t know. Understand that we’ve been through a lot? I mean look at me, I’m literally not the man he last met. Not anymore.”

  “You get too worked up about your appearance. Stop worrying about that. Your body might have changed, but what’s in here hasn’t,” she purred as she tapped his chest with her fingers. Then they slid down his stomach and rested against his crotch. “And I’m beginning to like this new you.”

  He chuckled. “I bet you are.”

  Her fingers slid across him playfully. “It’s been a few days, we could always—”

  There was a loud knock on their door and Derek poked his head through. Willow’s hand immediately drop
ped away, but not fast enough and the youth’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Sir, your brother is here to see you.”

  “At least he knocked this time,” he grumbled. “Even if he didn’t wait for us to answer.”

  Willow moaned. “I guess it’s time for round two.”

  A loud roar erupted overhead, and he turned just in time to see Wyrddlin soar past. The dragon must have needed some exercise. He’d been cooped up most of the time since they’d gotten here and though he’d seen him in his human guise, it must have been a relief to once more take to the sky.

  “Is that a—?” John began, coming to stand by his side.

  “Dragon?” he offered and watched as his brother’s eyes followed the silver dragon as it soared overhead. The look of amazement on the man’s face gave him a human touch that had been missing upon their arrival and he realized that he had no real reason to be afraid; this was his brother standing next to him. “How have you been?”

  “Busy, you?” John asked, watching as Wyrddlin flew along the edge of the city walls in the distance.

  He chuckled. “Same. Can’t tell you how much I miss being back at home reading one of my books in my old room. Haven’t had a moment’s peace since I left.”

  “You could always come back home,” John offered, but even as it was voiced, he could see in his brother’s eyes that even he didn’t believe that.

  He sighed with regret. “You know I can’t. I’m not done yet. And even when I am, it won’t be Lancaster I’ll be returning to. That isn’t my home anymore.”

  “It’ll always be your home,” John told him firmly, then turned his gaze from the dragon to look him straight in the eyes.

  He felt the oddest sensation come over him and he had to fight off a sudden bout of dizziness. Never before had they stood eye to eye; not even when they were young boys. His older brother had always had at least a foot on him, until now.