Pure of Heart (the New Age Saga Book 2)

by Timothy A. Ray

  Willow came up behind him and he startled at her touch. He still hadn’t gotten over what had happened in Kershaw and though they’d talked about it, he had not been able to bring himself to be intimate with her since. Her hand forced itself around his waist and yanked him around.

  “What is it?” she asked, concerned eyes studying him. She had to know the answer; he’d been skittish at being touched for days.

  “Place gives me the willies,” he muttered, avoiding the real problem with a buff. The others were waiting near the edge of the forest and he bent over to pick up his gear. “We’ll talk about it later, let’s go.”

  He set his bundle down in front of the others and while they talked, he followed Reyna’s lead and began putting his armor on. Not only would it make it easier to carry, but he was not going into that forest unprotected.

  Willow was following suit and the others waited patiently for them to finish. He stood and strapped Dragonslayer and Justice around his waist. He noticed that Merlin had Richter on his back as well. Willow was fastening Madera to her side and for the first time in two thousand years; the swords were together once more. It felt like electricity was filling the air, and he thought he heard a slight buzzing in the background, eating at his concentration.

  “So, we’re here, now what?” Willow asked, eyeing the two magicians closely. They’d been silent most of the morning and nothing had been said of what actually came next.

  Melissa turned from the forest and looked at them. “When my sisters and I first came here it was before the Dark Ages, back when the entire world was bursting with people and the wars had only just begun. This forest wasn’t here then. I can only tell you what will happen when we get there, not what lies between. I have not been back since the day we split up and went our separate ways. And now that I am, I wish I had waited longer.”

  “I have been here, we should be fine, just follow my lead,” Merlin told them, nodding to Kylee. “Do not forage ahead without us. Even with your tracking skills, you can easily get lost and we may never find you. Keep Tuskar on a short leash. Melissa and I will lead from the front, Reyna can take the rear. Kore, watch over these two,” the mage said nodding in their direction, like they were children.

  Trek came forward and Tristan noticed that someone had made a miniature saddle and placed it on the cats back for Bleak to ride on. How did the shapeshifter ever agree to that?

  “We shouldn’t be ‘eadin’ in dare,” the tiny brownie told them. “Oi warned yer aboyt de orcs, but naw wan wud listen ter me. Yer shud listen ter me nigh.”

  It was as if the mages hadn’t heard as they turned and began walking into the forest. He didn’t want to chance losing sight of them even for a second, so he quickly stepped in after them. If it weren’t for the forbidding feeling in the air screaming for him to flee, it would have been no different than hunting with his brother back home.

  Willow took his hand and together they followed Merlin deeper in, the light fading behind them as shadows quickly swept in and raced to enfold them in their embrace.

  II

  “We have a problem,” Jarel told him as Revan sat at his King’s side. Erik had been asleep for days, the battle for his soul exhausting him to the point of inaction.

  His back was sore and he got up to stretch as the aide approached from the shadowy doorway. “What’s wrong?” he asked, barely paying attention as he looked at the effect of being bed-ridden taking its toll on the King’s body. Erik’s strength was slowly leeching away and no matter how much magic he employed, or food they tried to force in him, nothing could make up for physically getting out of bed and moving about. If the King didn’t snap out of it soon, he’d either wake up to a shriveled husk of a body, or would simply never wake at all.

  Jarel coughed, as if to get his full attention. “Larahredhel knows about the King’s condition; the Seers have had a vision. Word has begun to spread and Haymdal has called for a council meeting. I’ve been commanded to make sure that Erik is there.”

  Well, shit.

  “How do you suggest we get him there?” he asked the aide, not even entertaining the thought of carrying the unconscious King into the council chambers. Why couldn’t this have waited just a bit longer?

  “Get me where?” a voice croaked from the bed, giving him a start.

  Jarel pushed forward. “Sire, the council has called a meeting and they have asked for you to join them.”

  “Jarel, he’s in no shape—,” he began.

  Erik cut him off. “I’ll be the judge of what shape I am in. Get me my clothes,” the King commanded his aide, pushing himself into a sitting position. “I’m so weak, how long have I been out?”

  He couldn’t help but snort. “Altogether or just this time?”

  Erik’s hand rose to his temple and slowly massaged the side of his head. “I’ve still got a massive headache. I take it it’s been a few days, judging by the smell. I need a bath.”

  “There’s no time for that, Sire,” Jarel pushed, gathering Erik’s clothing.

  He stepped forward and put a hand on the aide’s shoulder, making the elf look him in the face. “He is the King, make the time. They can wait.”

  “Uh,” Jarel, stuttered, looking between the King and his magister.

  He pushed the aide towards the door. “Summon the stewards, tell them that their King needs tending too. Don’t treat this different than any normal day. If I find otherwise, I’ll turn you into a toad and let some of my students practice their anatomy lessons on your wiggling corpse.”

  The aide didn’t need any more incentive as he rushed from the room and disappeared from view.

  Erik was laughing. “You sound just like Merlin.”

  Shit.

  The King waved him off, then slowly got to his feet. He was unsteady and Revan was forced to step forward and let the thinning elf lean on him. “Don’t worry elf, I’m more aware of myself since the last time we talked and have had a lot of time to remember and reflect. You told me that Guinevere was coming, but that couldn’t be true. You see, she ran off with Lancelot. I remember that now. And Merlin? I haven’t seen him or heard from him since the night that witch sister of mine came to my bed and cast her spell. So, he couldn’t very well be brewing me a tonic.”

  “Sire,” he began, not sure how to explain. This was obviously not his King, but current circumstances gave him little choice than to act like he was.

  “I don’t know how it is that I’m here, because I remember dying. I remember my son lying on the ground and a spear sticking through my gut. There was a boat, I think, and white robed women taking me away. I don’t know what came after that, I fell into darkness. Until I woke up here. This,” the King said, looking down at his body. “Feels like my body, but it isn’t. I don’t know how this is happening, but I can feel someone in my head, trying to speak to me. And I’ve come to realize I don’t belong here. I don’t know how to leave, or even if I can, but if there is something I do know, is that look upon your face and what this council meeting must be about. And though I am not your King, I am a King nonetheless, and know how to deal with this mounting insurrection. If that’s what I’m understanding this is.”

  He could only nod, not sure of what else to say.

  “Good, now bring me up to speed. Who are we dealing with?” Arthur/Erik asked as the stewards entered and started leading him towards the bathroom.

  He eyed them wearily, but he had no choice than to follow his King’s command. If they had any hope of getting through this, then an informed ruse was better than the alternative. Slowly, he began instructing the soaking King on the council members and a brief summation of what was going on in the world. He eyed the elf, sure that at any moment he might relapse back into his coma, but the longer the water soaked in, the brighter the life returned in the King’s eyes. He knew there would be no going back this time.

  His only concern was, the longer Arthur was awake, the stronger he became. What did that mean for his true King and friend? Was
he being pushed further away with every passing moment? He gritted his teeth and as Erik climbed out of the bathtub and allowed himself to be clothed, he knew that he was out of options either way.

  “So, this Haymdal wants to be King?” Erik asked as the stewards were dismissed and his cloak was brought around and fastened about his neck.

  He was stunned; he didn’t think the man was truly listening.

  The man within Erik smiled at him. “I’m a quick study. I had a good teacher. Old and senile, but still good enough to keep me on my toes.” The King turned and walked towards the mirror, eyeing the sickened elven reflection staring back at him. Eyes wondered over his facial features and hands slowly worked across his cheeks and brow. “I can almost see myself in here. Are we related?”

  He’d thought long and hard about that in the last week and though he’d had Jarel bring him the archives, there hadn’t been anything definitive within those sparse scrolls from that time. “That’s not certain. Though, my King is a Pendragon. Whether through lineage or an assumed name from earlier times, I don’t know. Not much has survived the ravages of time.”

  The King twisted his neck to the left and right and Revan heard the crack of the elf’s neck bones. “A Pendragon huh? My father would’ve loved that. What’s his name?”

  “Erik, Sire,” he answered with a bow of his head. Saying the name pained the elf, making him even more aware of the imposter standing in his friend’s body.

  Erik swung around and faced him, some of his strength apparently returning. “Right, now let’s go save Erik’s kingdom from civil war, shall we?” Arthur/Erik walked through the open doorway and stood looking to either side of the hall. “Uh, which way?”

  “This way, my Lord,” he sighed, reluctantly leading the elf down the northern passage. What they were doing was risky. If Haymdal suspected for one moment that Erik was not himself—

  They strode through the council chambers a few minutes later and he watched as the King pushed his way forward and came to stand behind his accustomed seat. How had he known which chair to go too? Erik’s eyes swept the room at those seated and a smile formed on his face when it fell on the round table before him. Fingers stroked the back of the chair as he slowly pulled out his seat and took his place at the table.

  Whispered conversation between Haymdal and Caleb suddenly ended when their eyes fell upon their sovereign staring daggers in their direction.

  He was hesitant to move away, almost afraid the illusion would shatter the moment he left, but he had a seat to take and for appearances; he couldn’t hover like an old nanny. It would not work to their advantage. With Pendoran and Uriens in the field, Erik’s side of the table felt a little light and he would’ve preferred the ill King have more support from his commanders against the greedy politicians eyeing their prey.

  “Why have I been summoned like some common peasant before a tribunal for a crime I have no knowledge of nor committed?” 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.”

  “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.” 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.

  “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 was rising 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 at the politician.

  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 of where this was heading or what they should do.

  “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 coo and gave me this tale to spin of your mental state. I never intended to go along with it, 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?

  “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, it pulled 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.

  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. Whether wittingly or not, he’s assisted this traitor and must be examined as well.”

  “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.”

  “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 just helping to call 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. 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 exhaustion.

  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 part 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 at him. “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.