He pulled his gauntlet off and extended his hand to the ranger. “You have my word. I’d have it no other way.”
She slid one of her long knives free and slowly cut his palm, then after removing her own glove, sliced her own as well. Their hands clapped together, the blood oath binding as they stared into each other’s eyes with common purpose. “Don’t break faith with me, or even my sister won’t be able to stop Tuskar from chewing your balls off. When this shit is over, we run that bastard down, even if it leads to the blackened steps of Blackwater.”
He gulped as the wolf’s jaw dropped open, his tongue lapping his upper lip.
“You have my word, as a Prince of Lancaster, future heir of Griedlok, and your future brother-in-law, Clint will pay for all that he has done. Though, I make no promises as to which of us gets to kill him,” he added at the end.
She snickered. “We’ll work that out later. We should probably be getting back. Here, take this. I want nothing to do with it.” She handed him Dragonslayer and he quietly strapped it around his waist; the victory he should have felt at its retrieval had been shattered by the ranger’s sobs.
Tuskar was up and out the door before they had even turned towards the stairwell. She just shrugged, then suddenly snickered, her moist cheeks twinkling in the moonlight.
“What?” he asked curiously. Had Tuskar done something he missed?
They were on the battlements before she would answer, her eyes following Tuskar’s sprint back up the road towards the distant palace. “You know, King Erik of Forlorn has changed the old laws pertaining to heirs so that his daughter will inherit the throne upon his death. So, doesn’t that make me the heir to Griedlok?”
He was stunned; he hadn’t thought of that.
She chuckled again.
You two want to get back up here or are you going to continue lollygagging? Merlin’s stern voice scolded within their minds.
He had been so caught up with Clint, the dragons, the sword, and the grieving ranger that he hadn’t even considered the others might still be fighting. They had two magicians, two warriors, a shapeshifter, griffins, a dragon, a telepath, Willow, and a brownie, surely, they could have handled thirty or so orcs with the two of them? Then his thoughts drifted to Willow and he instantly sprinted up the road after the fleeing wolf.
In his panicked state, he barely noticed the orc’s corpse as he dodged his way past. Even the remaining parts of the black dragon didn’t draw notice, as the sudden need to make sure his fiancé was okay filled him to the core. Surely Merlin would have sounded a bit more urgent if something had happened to her? He wouldn’t have simply scolded them?
He saw her standing at the end of the road before the palace and his heart tugged with relief. Kylee was jogging by his side and both of them slowed when they saw the look on Willow’s face. Something had happened after all, but what? Approaching at a slow jog, he embraced her swiftly, his hands automatically checking to make sure all of her was there and unharmed.
“I’m fine,” she croaked in his ear, and he heard the sob just on the verge of breaking through.
“Then what?” he asked, looking towards the others.
Corpses of orcs lay in heaps and Kore hovered there, axe in hand, looking at the slain members of his race with a disconnected look. Unlike before, he didn’t seem at all interested in burying their remains; more like he just didn’t care. He saw Merlin standing near the orc, sorrow on his face, Melissa at his side. Trek was a cat once more and was swatting at a screaming brownie by the mage’s right foot. Then his eyes drifted to the right and his breath stopped.
Jared was lying impaled by the large battle axe that red armored orc had been wielding. His quarterstaff lay in pieces on either side of him and Reyna was cradling the boy’s head and crying. He had never seen the black knight so emotional and he knew instantly that it had to be bad. Not that an axe in the chest hadn’t been an instant clue that something terrible had happened, but the heart wrenching sorrow on Reyna’s face seemed to cement it in a way that made it undeniable. The blind boy showed no signs of life and the blood that pooled beneath him had ceased its growth.
“Oh no,” he moaned in horror. They had survived so much that he hadn’t even thought—Hell, Melissa ended up coming back from the dead and it never occurred to him that any of them would actually get hurt. He recognized the danger that came with what they were doing, but they had scraped past unscathed for so long—
Willow began to cry then, and he simply stood there; holding her.
“Did you get the fucking sword?” Reyna suddenly snarled at him, the anger mixed with grief contorting her face in ways he hoped he’d never see again.
“He did,” Merlin responded before he could answer.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Reyna snapped. “You’re the reason for all of this. This damn quest of yours has cost my brother his life. If he had never answered your summons, if we had just kept heading east, he’d still be alive, and we’d be together. This,” she roared, shaking Jared’s body, “is what your arrogance has cost us. Is it worth it? Tell me mage, why shouldn’t I stand up right now and end your worthless pitiful life? Give me one fucking reason!” She was slowly rocking Jared as she thundered at the mage, and Tristan fought the urge to go to her, lest she take off his head instead.
Merlin’s grief was sincere, and he could tell that the words stung the mage; largely in part to the fact that Reyna was absolutely right. In the end, it was Merlin’s fault, no matter what argument the mage could make; he knew it all amounted to the same. “Give me some fire,” the mage told Melissa softly, breaking apart from Kore and Melissa’s side to come between Tristan and Reyna. She wasn’t threatening to cut his head off, why did he need the protection? Then he looked down at Jared’s body and the questions slipped away, none of that mattered anymore.
Kore disappeared from sight. When he emerged from the ruined palace minutes later, he had an arm load of wood. Throwing it down in front of Merlin, Melissa flung fire into it and flames immediately leapt towards the heavens.
“No one can replace your brother, nothing will ever justify the loss of his life. But let me show you what will happen if we don’t continue on, if we don’t succeed regardless of the personal costs to us all,” Merlin offered, waving his hand over the waist high flames.
Images flickered into being, shifting with the movement of the flames. Close ups of the enemy hordes marching, of four vile creatures being transformed into armored monsters, one of which lay in pieces in the road behind him.
Villages burned as a harpy began sucking the life out of the fleeing villagers. A golden armored elven female leaping into the sky and attacking the harpy, and the following battle that ended with the creature’s death.
A dwarven castle filled with corpses, flies buzzing, goblins picking their way through the dead, looking for survivors. A black armored goblin killing a dwarven patrol with just a touch. Then a battle between a dwarven army and the goblin horde infesting the ruined castle. The piling of dirt over a pit where the goblin commander had been finally trapped.
It shifted to images of a young elven girl getting ambushed by goblins and taken in the night. Then the Elven King he’d seen in Melissa’s pool falling to his knees, screaming. His confinement to bed and the golden armored elven woman riding before her armies.
Lancaster shimmered into view and his heart began to thud in his chest. Before his eyes, he saw the death of his father, the crowning of John, and the battles that took place after. He watched his brother fight the red armored orc until suddenly the battle was ending and the orc was flying south on the red dragon, Clint at his side. The last image he saw of his brother was before the throne, Bendor standing before him, eyes flaming red, and Serix walking up behind the raging general. Then white light flared into existence and the image faded away.
The images returned to the elven fortress. The Elven King was still bed-ridden and remained unconscious even as the castle burned to the ground around him. The gol
den armored Queen that he’d seen before lay on the battlefield surrounded by her countrymen, and as her body was lifted and thrown into a pit, he watched her roll down the side and land on his brother’s corpse.
No!
Things shifted faster then. The dwarven fortresses falling one by one, Lancaster in flames. The hordes marching, intermixed with towns burning. None were spared as the entire known world was engulfed by the Phoenix’s hordes and burned to ash by dragonfire. The image rose high into the air until the entire land mass was in view, the land blackened and all life extinguished. Flames rose from the Deadlands in the form of a flying bird, then it all faded and went back to just being a dwindling fire.
“That is why we are here. To stop that. Everything else, as horrible as it is, is secondary to our quest being accomplished. You know how much I cared for your brother, I saw a younger side of myself in him. He was brave, and he always pushed himself beyond his limits to save those he cared about. Even though he was exhausted, he came to your aid by the lake. When part of our group was taken, he hid the swords from the horsemen, then without hesitation, flew to their rescue. That is the sort of man your brother was. And I will honor his life and courage by continuing on and finishing this thing. Because as much as you wish you hadn’t come along, you have to realize that there was nowhere the two of you could have gone to escape what’s coming. In the end, the result would be the same. Except right here, right now, you have the chance to change it. To stop others from meeting this same fate. To take all that anger rising up inside you and harness it, focus it, and point it where it really belongs—at the Phoenix,” Merlin told Reyna, yet it felt like he was talking to them all.
“Kylee was able to retrieve Dragonslayer at her own personal cost,” the mage continued. Willow threw a startled glance her sister’s way, but the ranger only shook her head and mouthed later. “We have what we have come for and now that we have all four keys, we can finally go to Sherwood and retrieve Excalibur.”
“Why is that sword so damn important? How can one crappy relic change any of that?” Reyna sobbed, her hand stroking Jared’s hair.
Merlin sighed. “That Elven King you saw, his name is Erik, and he is being torn between two lives; the one that used to be and the one that is. It is not something that he is capable of dealing with alone. Only Excalibur can heal his soul and make him whole again. With the sword, he can unify all the races, march to the Deadlands, and face the Phoenix head on. That “crappy sword” as you put it, is the only thing that can destroy the Book of the Dead and rid this world forever of its evil.”
“Does it even matter to you how many of us die along the way?” Reyna returned, unwilling to let it go. He didn’t blame her. If it were John—
He also didn’t have to hear Merlin’s answer, it was plain on his face.
After a pause, the mage continued. “All that matters is that we stop her anyway we can. You saw those creatures she created? They were her own version of the Four Horsemen. I told you about Death, well that’s War,” Merlin pushed, pointing at the corpse in the distance. “He led the army that assaulted Lancaster and when his hordes were beaten, he came here to stop us. She didn’t care about her forces running scattered to the north, she has a hell of a lot more where they came from. No, she sent him here. That harpy you saw in the vision? That was Famine, and she wiped out almost every northern village from Alamar to Forlorn. And that dwarven castle full of corpses? That was Pestilence. Tens of thousands have already died in this war, and it has only just begun. Three of her horsemen are dead, one is disobeying her, and in her eyes, might as well be dead as well. Do you think that she will call it quits and never try again? I assure you that even now she’s moving to replace them, and she will make them even more formidable now that she knows their weakness and what to protect them from. The Four Horsemen will ride again, and I need you with me if we’re going to have any chance of stopping them.”
“It’s never been me that you wanted. It was him,” she declared, her hand running down Jared’s cooling cheek. “Don’t pretend otherwise. You can all go, leave me here. I’ll make my way north and finish this myself, without your precious sword.”
Merlin shook his head. “You’ll never make it.”
“Jared did,” she answered, and Tristan knew that she was thinking of how her brother had risked it all to save her, that she would now do the same to avenge his death. Her face said it all.
“Your brother’s powers protected him, and he still only barely made it out alive. And that was only the outskirts of an army besieging an enemy castle. You’re talking about marching through every orc and goblin town between Alamar and the Phoenix’s fortress. And even if you survived that far, you’d have to contend with the Phoenix herself. Your sword and force of will are not enough,” Merlin told her.
Reyna glared up at him, then her eyes softened as she glanced down at her brother, her face once more filled with grief. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but whatever it is will be my choice mage. You will not force or blackmail me into anything. Now, can I have some time alone with my brother?”
Merlin knew better than to push and motioned for the others to give them some space.
He grasped Willow’s hand and together they moved off with the ranger by their side. Willow had questions that needed to be asked and Kylee began telling her what had happened after she’d taken off after Clint. He half-listened, his eyes being drawn back to the broken knight sitting there with her brother’s head in her lap. He couldn’t help but feel her pain. They’d all experienced so much loss lately, how much more would be taken before this was over? His fingers traced the pommel on his left hip and he grew more determined to see this through. For his father, mother, and his recently departed comrade. Their sacrifices would not be in vain due to a lack of effort on his part. He would find that sword and continue on this journey until the Phoenix was dead, or he was.
II
They had made camp on the northern part of the fortress in what might have once been an inn. Only walls remained and though there might have been somewhere more comfortable, it felt more secluded in the off-chance that Clint returned with reinforcements. Merlin seemed confident enough in their safety, but after the devastating loss they’d suffered, no one was willing to risk being out in the open and exposed.
As the sun rose, Tristan slowly got to his feet and approached the older magician, who sat facing the sunrise, eyes distant; lost in reflection. “How did all those orcs get here anyways?” he asked, giving voice to something that had been bothering him the night before. “How’d they even know where to go?”
Merlin shrugged himself out of his thoughts, glanced in his direction, and for an instant it seemed the older man was looking through him as well. “There were two large baskets discarded behind the palace and I’m assuming the dragons carried them in on those. As to the other—,”
“You don’t know?” Reyna asked, stepping from the morning shadows and returning to the group for the first time since they’d left her the night before. “You’re the all-seeing-future-possibilities magician, who’s lived through all of this already, and you don’t know how or why they got here before us?”
“If I stop to analyze every little thing, it’s all I’d ever be doing. There are millions of possibilities to every situation. Maybe you duck left, or Tristan ducks right. Each one leading to a different future. There’s no way I could predict or know every detail and still be sane. Yes, I assume that’s how they got here because logic dictates that it’s the most plausible explanation. Am I right? I don’t know, go look at the ropes attached to those baskets and tell me if they have claw marks on them. Me? I’m not going to bother, because it doesn’t matter how they got here. They were here and now one of us is dead. Knowing won’t change that,” Merlin answered, his temper a little hot this morning.
Reyna eyed the mage for a moment longer. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know my brother was going to die. And save me the speech about the greater good, y
ou’re in this because you have a hero complex. We’re only useful until we’ve served our purpose. As long as your agenda gets moved along, we’re expendable. Don’t bother denying it and there’s no point in arguing; I’m going with you. Not for your quest, or to save the world. I’m going because I know that when we get to the end of this idiotic crusade, there’s going to be two other people in that room atop the Phoenix’s fortress; the Phoenix and you. You’d better pray that once I slay that bitch I don’t finish you off as well. After all, once she’s dead, then you’re the one that is expendable.”
The black knight began to turn away, then glared at Tristan. “And you and I are going to get to work on training your sorry ass how to fight. If you knew how to handle those magical swords you’re carrying, you’d have either used your father’s sword on the orc or cut him down when he stood in your way. Either way, the orc would be dead, and my brother would still be alive. So, I’m going to train you on how to fight, and the next time someone dies due to your bad judgment, you’ll be out of excuses and I can kill you without feeling guilty over it.”
Reyna walked away, and he was unable to voice a reply; his throat had gone dry.
“It’s the grief talking,” Merlin tried to comfort him.
It didn’t work because he knew that she was right. He had dodged past the orc and run away. The purpose didn’t matter, only the consequence. Willow was snoring behind him and he lowered his voice as to not disturb her. She needed her sleep; the pregnancy was making her increasingly more exhausted and the night before she’d been dead on her feet. For her sake, he had to finish this quickly. “So, we’re going to Sherwood, then what?” he asked.
A shadow fell over him and he jerked in reaction. Looking up he saw the eagle head of one of the griffins and knew from the colors of his feathers that Kallen had come to speak to Merlin. “We’ll only be taking you as far as the forest’s edge, mage,” Kallen told them. “Dragons have come south, and the rest of the clans must be warned. We’ll take you there because it’s on the way, but after that, we part ways.”
The New Age Saga Box Set Page 56