Pure of Heart (the New Age Saga Book 2)

by Timothy A. Ray

  Bags strapped to saddles, the griffins had taken to the skies. As they made their way south four hours later, he wondered if he’d ever be able to be on the ground again.

  He had no recollection of flying this way the evening before, he’d spent most of the time with his head buried in Willow’s back. His eyes kept pulling to the southeast, his heart wanting to break with the knowledge of the vile city they’d only barely escaped with their lives intact. He thought he could see smoke on the horizon and knew that Trek had done a thorough job of burning it to the ground.

  The cat had emerged from the grasslands shortly before departure and was strapped to their saddle over Willow’s lap. Bleak had ridden with Merlin and he looked over to see the lone orc bent over hugging his saddle. If possible, Kore looked to be even greener than usual. He was not liking this one bit.

  Jared and Reyna were on his left, Kylee and a sleeping Tuskar on their left flank. The wolf had to be put to sleep and strapped to the saddle, it was the only way to ensure his safety as they made their way south.

  You could use another long soak in a river, Melissa sneered at him and he broke out into laughter. The sweat was indeed starting to drip, even though it cooled almost as soon as it formed, but that didn’t prevent his armpits from soaking his sides. He wished there was another option, but only riding in the saddlebags would keep the shapeshifted witch safe.

  I imagined our naked bodies pressed together, but not like this, he heard again, and he mentally smiled at her suggestive tone. He knew that she was only playing with him, her true colors revealed when she’d insisted on his opening up to Willow.

  Let her tease, it wouldn’t do any harm.

  A nail dug into his flesh and he flinched in response. Who said I’m teasing?

  “I do,” he snickered, and drew a glance from Willow who struggled to understand what he was saying.

  “What?” she hollered at him and he only shook his head. It was pointless to have a conversation; the wind was ripping their voices away as swiftly as they could be uttered.

  He noticed that the ground was starting to come closer and that the griffins had begun to bank east. The river that snaked south towards the Drago Mountains was widening under them as they descended and came to a swift but gentle stop.

  His stomach growled and looking up at the sun, he was startled by how much time had passed. Hungrily, he slid off the kneeling griffin and took the ferret from within his shirt. Sliding her over her shoulders, he turned to help Willow down as well.

  There were a few moments of silence as everyone stretched their sore thighs and adjusted to being back on the ground. “You going to tell me what’s up with the ferret now?” Willow asked, as he let Melissa crawl up his arm to his shoulder, and make herself at home stretched out across his neck.

  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. “Melissa? How would he do that? She’s dead. I watched her die.”

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

  He shook his head. “You should take that act on the road. The orange jester who tells jokes and can turn into a dragon, eat a cow, and po—.”

  “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 fled.

  “Oh no you don’t, 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?” e 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 forward and Tristan rolled his eyes. Now Willow 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.

  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 Tristan by the 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 woman 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 what was happening.

  Trek sauntered into view and if he had control of his body at the moment, he’d kick the cat across the river. Green eyes flicked at the women, then back at him, and he yawned, sat, and began cleaning his toes.

  “What was the question again?” he asked. 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?”

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

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

  “A little help here?” he asked, 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, shoulders are 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?”

  “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.”

  Willow sighed. “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.”

  “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 was once again herself, 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, then winked.

  Furious, he stormed towards the river and got away from the hug fest.

  Growling, 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 open the blinds and the light seared his brain.

  “What the hell are you doing?” John groaned, his temples throbbing harder; he felt like puking. Crap, he was 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 cramp 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 matters that she feels you must handle yourself. And to quote her, she told me to tell you “get your lazy ass out of bed or you’ll be on the couch—.”

  He held up his hand. “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 and he froze.

  “What executions? On who’s orders?” he turned and glared at the aide. Windel’s eyes were diverting towards the windows and he didn’t look eager to respond. “Windel.”

  “Deserters, Sire, for which the penalty is death and such has been ordered by the general of your army,” the elf answered after a moment, 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 thing we do the next morning is 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, and while they say they were there trying to avoid battle, one of the barrels we’d placed over that trap door was in the process of being moved,” the aide informed him.

  He was awake now. “What? I thought you placed guards to—.”

  “I did, they were ordered to return to their normal duties,” Windel told him and John knew that it still 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 out this evil once and for all.

  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.

  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.

  The commoner departed upon his arrival and others were told they’d have to postpone or wait. His generals were assembled and he took his pillowed seat, reaching out and taking Jenna’s hand. 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. Roland had survived, but was still recovering, he made a 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 guest, 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 told that the guards were ordered relieved and assigned other duties. Who gave such an order?” John 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 didn’t order the guards away.”

  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 them approach, but he didn’t turn, just kept his unsteady eyes on him. What was bothering the dwarf, he’d never seen him like this? He caught movement near the back and saw that Serix was moving among the others, eyes on the platform, watching intently. 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 is my duty to decide. You are not on some distant battlefield, you are in the royal palace of Lancaster and there are laws to be observed. You do not have the right to ignore 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. John was on his feet, not sure himself what to do. 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 were jumping forward to assist and as the last man fell beneath the dwarf’s axe, they grabbed 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.