The New Age Saga Box Set

by Timothy A. Ray

  “What?” Since when? his mind interjected; confused

  The door opened, and two figures strode into the room. Willow and Merlin were in the middle of a heated discussion and suddenly paused as they found that they had two sets of eyes on them. “You’re finally awake, I see,” Merlin said with a smile.

  Willow broke away from the mage and came to stand on the other side of the bed. Taking his other hand, her soft blue eyes greeted his gaze. “How’re you doing?”

  “I’m confused,” he responded, looking to where his dog sat. That was actually Lajeer? Huh. He had thought— “What’s this crap about us leaving?”

  Merlin was standing at the end of the bed, a rib bone held in one hand, his staff in the other. He watched as the mage tore the flesh off the bone and grinned.

  Did he just growl with pleasure?

  The mage chuckled. “Sorry. Sometimes things linger after changing back.”

  “Can someone tell me what’s going on?” he asked, getting pissed.

  Willow looked to the old king to explain and the following heated glare she gave Merlin told him that she hadn’t liked the direction their conversation had been going.

  “It’s not safe for you here,” Constantine told him after a brief pause.

  His fiancé grunted, “and it’s safe anywhere else?”

  The aging man struggled to respond.

  Merlin had finished chewing and he jumped in, cutting off whatever Constantine had been about to say. “When that assassin shot you, I heard a word in your mind, an old one, rarely used in these times. Tell me, what did that man shoot you with? A bow? A crossbow?”

  “A flintlock,” he answered, not seeing the point.

  “Exactly,” Merlin exclaimed, as if that answered everything. What was the mage getting at? “Tell me how you know that name.”

  “I’ve been in our vault and seen one with my own eyes. It was this old relic I was fascinated with when I was a child. I found it in a pile of ancient artifacts from before the war; the stuff with no real value other than the fact they existed,” he paused. “No one knew how to make it work. Obviously, someone found another one and figured it out.”

  “Not another one, the same,” Merlin stated, eyes fixed on the older man beside his bed. “Willow and I just checked, it’s gone.”

  Constantine’s eyelids drooped, and a moan issued from his aged throat. “You let him into our vault? No one’s allowed—.”

  The mage nodded approvingly as it dawned on him what the man was driving at.

  If it was the same gun, then someone had removed and given it to the assassin to kill him. But who could have done that? It was so restricted that— “Someone close to us is working with the Phoenix,” he muttered with understanding. The betrayal this knowledge presented was staggering.

  The king squeezed his hand, eyes a reflection of his son’s thoughts, “I can’t protect you. I have to find out who it is and until I do, you’re not safe here.”

  “So, I’m going to Griedlok then?” he asked, looking to his fiancé. The frown on her face told him he was still missing something. “Wait, you’re wanting me to go with Merlin, aren’t you? Why? How can you trust this stranger who shows up right as I get shot? You don’t find that odd?” he spat, eyeing the mage.

  He saw a flicker in the other man’s eyes and thought he might have hit on something, maybe not his complicity but something similar. “I had nothing to do with you getting shot,” Merlin informed him, the sincerity in his voice hard to mistake. “It would’ve happened had you returned as planned later in the evening. My presence made no difference on the outcome.”

  “You couldn’t protect me then, what makes you think it’ll be any different if I go with you now? What difference will it make?” he pushed. In his heart, he knew that the mage had knowledge of the shooting beforehand and had let it happen. To what end? How could he allow himself to be involved in the other man’s games?

  Merlin shook his head, “the Phoenix has agents in the palace, on the castle grounds. They are aware that the assassination attempt failed, and they will try again. Remember, she has seen us together. Now that she knows we’ve talked, she will stop at nothing to see you dead. It doesn’t matter how you’re involved, just talking to me was a death sentence.”

  “Oh, thanks for that,” he rolled his eyes.

  “My father—,” Willow began.

  “Can’t do any more than Constantine. If she has agents here, then she has them there as well. Until your father is able to root them out and expose them, both of you are in danger. I’ve been shielding us since entering the castle. Her agents may have told her you survived, but she didn’t learn it directly herself. I can protect you. I have friends who will protect you. It’s the only choice you have,” the mage finished, his teeth stripping off the last piece of meat on the bone. Lajeer looked up suddenly, as if expecting the bone to be tossed his way. He was disappointed as Merlin spared one last look at the bone and pocketed it in his robes.

  Was it the only choice they had, or was it the only one Merlin had left them? He looked to his father. “You really want me to go with him? How could I do that? I’m needed here. I’m about to be married. Bordin will be expecting Willow to return within the next few days.”

  “I’ve already sent a messenger informing him that bandits were found on the eastern roads and I felt it unsafe for her to return straight away. He won’t put up a fuss,” the king responded.

  “So again, I have no choice left to me,” he muttered, his earlier rage just under the surface, eager to break through.

  Merlin placed both hands on the end of the bed and looked him straight in the eye. “You always have a choice. It’s your life. If you want to stay and take the chance you won’t get attacked again, then do it. I won’t force you to come with me. I’m only trying to save the world, you know. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

  “Dramatic much?” Willow sneered.

  “What do you think?” he asked her; ignoring the glowering man at the end of the bed. She had to be against this, it had to be what they had been arguing about when they walked in. Hers was the only opinion that truly mattered to him.

  “We need to go with him,” she told him without hesitation.

  She’d been on board all along? He shook his head in confusion, “what were you arguing about when you came in?”

  Willow stared at the mage, Merlin had a firm grip on his lower lip. “I was insisting Windel and Preik join us,” she stated, more to the mage than him.

  “I agree,” Constantine interjected before Merlin could begin his rebuttal. “If I had it my way, you’d have a contingent of men accompanying you.”

  Merlin looked at the three of them in turn. “Our group needs to stay small. Not only does it take more out of me to shield so many, but a large body of people is slower to move, harder to keep hidden. This is about stealth, not a show of force. She can’t know what we’re doing once we leave, and with your security problems—.”

  “They know how to shield themselves, they did so from your telepath, didn’t they? You’re so proud of that blind boy, tell me they can’t do it with her as well?” Willow blurted before he could finish.

  “Blind boy?” Constantine asked him, confused. So, they hadn’t told him everything. He shrugged his shoulders to show it was a moot point and the king let it drop.

  Merlin ground his teeth, his glare icy and clearly displeased. Seconds stretched into minutes before he sighed and gave in, “fine, but if I suspect for one moment—.”

  “It’s settled then. We’re really going?” he asked his father, ignoring the cold stare from the mage.

  “Am I ever going to be able to finish talk—?” Merlin asked in frustration, getting cut off with a sudden knock on the door. He wanted to laugh at the look on the mage’s face. Served him right.

  Before someone could answer, Clint walked in. The aide was acting flustered as he saw who was in the room and he eyed the mage with suspicion as he moved to stand nex
t to the king. “I had to threaten a trip to the dungeons to get in here. What’s going on?”

  Merlin had his eyes fixed on the newcomer, the expression on his face the same as what he’d seen on Jared’s after they left the forest. The mage’s eyes turned to look at him and he shook his head; urging him to remain quiet. Merlin’s presence was supposed to go unnoticed—

  “There was a reason for that,” the king replied hotly.

  It stunned the aide and it took the man a second to recover. “I apologize Sire, I didn’t think this could wait.”

  After a long pause, Constantine’s irritation got the better of him, “well, spit it out.”

  “The uh—prisoner was telling the truth,” Clint began, eyeing the mage once more. “An army marches this way. A scouting party has just returned. They barely escaped an encounter with an advance division of orcs in the plains north of Saspe’s Peak. John has called the War Council and has asked for you to join him.”

  “Dismissed,” Constantine snapped. He wasn’t sure if his father was angry over the news, or the forced entry into the chambers. When Clint left, the king turned to look at Merlin. “Probably best to get moving; while everyone’s distracted. By now the whole castle has heard and the ensuing chaos might be just enough to hide your departure.”

  “But father—,” he protested. He wasn’t going to just leave his father’s side at a time like this. What if something happened to John? He was needed here.

  The king glared at him. “You’re going.” Then, the old man’s eyes softened and once more he reached out to take his son’s hand. “I understand what you’re feeling. I do, but I can’t deal with this and root out a conspiracy at the same time. I won’t be able to focus if all I’m thinking about is who’s sneaking into your bedroom with a knife while you’re sleeping. No more arguments. Just do this for me. You worry about Merlin, you don’t need to.”

  His father looked to the mage and saw the other man nod with appreciation. “You know, I’m not the eldest of the two boys my father had. We tell people I was, but truly, I’m like you; a second-born. It wasn’t my place to rule. When I was a teenager, Merlin appeared to your grandfather and told him that my brother was conspiring with demons to overthrow his rule. These demons promised armies in support if my brother killed my father and assumed the throne. Then he would march on the rest of the lands and bring them all under the rule of one king; one tyrant. My father ignored the warning and was dead the next morning,” his father told him, a fresh bout of pain crossing the old man’s eyes.

  “I paid heed to the mage’s words. Together we rooted out and killed those responsible. This ageless stranger fought by my side and helped me overthrow my brother’s short reign. If he says this needs to happen, then I’m not going to make the mistake your grandfather did. I’m going to trust him at his word. And so should you,” Constantine added, then continued, “now you have to get packed. If you’re well enough to travel, then you need to get moving while you can. I,” his father paused, looking at the others in the room, “have a War Council to be getting to.”

  Surprisingly, Merlin walked to the old man’s side and the two shook hands, then the mage helped his father to his feet. “It was good to see you one last time, my friend,” Merlin told the aging man.

  “Take care of him. If anything happens—,” his father began but couldn’t finish.

  “I will,” Merlin comforted with a sad smile. The king nodded, then slowly made his way out of the room. When the door had shut, the mage turned to face him. “So, want to get off your ass and help pack or are you going to sit there and pout?”

  II

  “You might as well get it over with,” Merlin told him a short time later.

  They had just cleared the outlying settlements and were on the road to Crystal Cove. It had taken an hour to pack and make their way out of the castle. Arms sore, feet throbbing, he was struggling to get comfortable on the worn saddle beneath him. He had spent the hour in silent contemplation; trying to work through everything that had happened since waking up that morning; it was a lot to assimilate and there were more questions forming than possible to ask.

  Preik and Windel were riding ahead, acting like they were oblivious to what was said, but he knew their elven ears were straining to hear every word.

  “You knew I’d get shot,” he stated. He already knew the answer to that one, but he wanted confirmation nonetheless.

  Merlin pulled up on his horse’s reins. He rode on a black mare they had retrieved from the stables and the wild beast was unusually calm as it came to a halt. “I did,” simple and to the point.

  “And you let it happen?” Willow raged, his own fury mirrored in her tone.

  “Can you not wait?” the mage asked after a few moments. The both of them remained silent and Merlin shifted in his saddle, obviously eager to move on. “Fine, let’s dismount and continue on foot, it’ll give us a chance to finish our conversation before we join the others.” The older man slid off his horse and waited patiently for them to follow suit.

  His feet were not in the mood to walk any further, but the need for answers overrode the pain in his ankles. “You could’ve warned me.”

  Merlin didn’t look at them, just continued to watch the road ahead as he spoke, “the future is never certain. Until it reaches the present, it can always be changed. The choices we make determine what comes next.” There was a pause, as if the mage was trying to decide how to continue. “You don’t know how many possible futures I had to sift through; all with staggering ramifications. The moment you got shot was a nexus for things to come. And to be fair, I was there every step of the way.”

  “I’m not that important,” he mumbled. Why did it matter what happened to him? Yes, he was going to be Bordin’s heir, but Willow’s father could still be alive long after he was gone. His children might rule at some point down the road; that didn’t mean he would. He would fade into the history books with only a short mention, forgotten by the time his grandchildren became of age.

  The mage continued as if he hadn’t heard, but he knew better. “Let me tell you a few possible futures that could have been born with the firing of that pistol. In the first one, I met up with Jared and Reyna and we moved on with our quest, leaving the two of you alone. You returned to the castle later that evening and were shot on the palace steps in front of your brother. John went into a rage and slew the man, knocking your pregnant girlfriend unconscious in the process. Constantine withdrew into himself, bitter at the loss of his son. He locked himself in his chambers and refused to come out, even as the palace burned to the ground around him. The besieging army slew everyone with the exception of your brother. He was taken before the Phoenix and she personally ripped the beating heart from his chest. That, of course, was after her armies started burning every last bit of Humanity left in the southern regions; long after King Erik was slain and his knights decimated. Sound like a future you’d prefer? My non-interference?” the mage pushed; obviously irritated.

  “Pregnant girlfriend?” Willow suddenly interjected.

  Wait, what?

  “The second one,” Merlin began, ignoring their questions, “I introduced myself without the company of the others and we quickly headed back to the castle to see your father. Having confronted you alone, you were easily swayed to see the truth. Less defensive, though more vocal, you conceded to join me and hastened our arrival to see the king. I again accompanied you as a dog, your Guardians were not aware of my presence, and I shielded us from the assassin’s sight until we entered the palace walls. I became a man once more in front of your stunned father, who went into a tirade and refused our request for you to join me. No warnings were given about possible conspirators and while we snuck out of the castle to continue on our journey, your father was killed instead. Your brother heard that I was there and blamed me for your father’s death. He could not focus and though he fought valiantly, fell on the field of battle. Your castle was sacked; your people enslaved.”

 
“No one person could be that important,” Willow whispered in horror.

  “Oh, thanks,” he muttered. The fear in her eyes and the tremble of her lip made him regret the quick retort.

  Merlin stopped talking for a second, then turned to face her, “there are certain points in a person’s life where the choices he makes impacts a multitude of people around him. It’s rare that the future could be affected so drastically, but it does happen. Once there was a young boy running to get his brother’s sword when he got lost and stumbled upon a forgotten rock with a sword embedded in it. Had he remembered to bring his brother’s sword to begin with, if he had chosen a different path to the stables, if someone else had intervened and distracted him at the right instant, his hand never would have fallen upon the hilt and pulled the magical weapon free. And everything that followed would have never happened.”

  The cloaked figure continued walking and turned his gaze towards the stars. “But that is neither here nor there, what’s done is done. As I was saying, in the third optional future, the two of you rejected me out of hand. Nothing I could say would sway you, and you returned to the castle quickly to inform your father of what happened. One of the Guardians ran ahead to raise the alarm. John happened to be standing nearby and after overhearing the conversation, rushed out to make sure you were safe. He was shot in the head on the palace steps just as you arrived and died in your arms. Your father was enraged and marched the army out to meet the oncoming horde.”

  “Bereft of castle walls to protect them, they were quickly overrun and slaughtered. You became the King of Lancaster long enough to watch your defenses fall and your people murdered. They put a leash around Willow’s neck and she was given to the commander of the invading army as a pet. You were paraded from town to town, as a symbol of what lay in store for any who resisted. It didn’t matter, the horde overwhelmed the southern regions and killed every soul they encountered. With reinforcements, they spread across the lands and before the year was out, every single race was either enslaved or dead.”