The New Age Saga Box Set

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The New Age Saga Box Set Page 59

by Timothy A. Ray


  “No shit!” Jenna cursed. She bore down, her face strained with the effort and his throbbing hand once again screamed in agony. His wife was a proper, educated, gentle soul who prided herself on having a respectful, well-mannered tone. So, it was striking to see such a feral look upon her face, the words flying from her mouth so out of character, that it felt truly alien to experience it.

  “Mommy said a bad word,” Aaron suddenly said by his side.

  He hadn’t even known he was there. “Hey kiddo, why not go play in your room for a bit? I’ll come get you when it’s over, okay?”

  Aaron silently retreated, and his heart ached at how innocent his son was. He briefly reflected on the world his children were being born into and wanted to protect them the best he could but feared it wouldn’t be enough; that their innocence would soon be lost.

  He lost track of time again, the squeezing, screaming, pushing, and rapid breathing becoming so rhythmic that it was hard for him to stay completely focused. But he was snapped from his thoughts by another squeeze of his hand and a shrill squealing from between his lover’s thighs.

  His wife was drenched in sweat; her eyes glazing as the cleric worked his magic once more to relieve the stress from her body. “Oh, let’s not do that again anytime soon, okay?” she mumbled, glancing towards the mid-wife.

  The woman had wrapped the newborn in a blanket after snipping the lifeline between child and mother. Moving quickly towards John, she held the slightly bloody child up to her father to hold. “Congratulations, it’s a girl.”

  He felt the tears begin to flow. A little girl. He looked down upon her beautiful angelic face and the slight point of her ears and grinned like a complete fool. She had soft whitish hair and her mouth opened to cry out against the world for ripping her from her mother. He leaned over and placed his daughter in her mother’s awaiting arms. He kissed Jenna’s forehead, his throbbing finger sliding in the small palm gripping the air. “She’s so beautiful. Just like her mother.”

  “Flattery got us here, let’s hold off on that for a bit, okay?” Jenna teased, then chuckled when the baby cooed at her. “That’s right Honey, Mommy loves you. And I love you,” she offered; leaning his way and giving him a quick kiss.

  “Whatever are we going to name her? I’d only picked out—,” he began.

  “Boy’s names, right? Shocker,” Jenna rolled her eyes. She rocked the newborn baby as the mid-wife and cleric slowly departed their chambers.

  Aaron came charging in and jumped on the bed. Jenna winced, but didn’t snap at the boy, who was just excited to meet his new sister. “What’s her name, Mommy?”

  Jenna looked into his eyes and said softly, “Constance.”

  His heart melted, and he kissed his wife fully on the lips. Then he couldn’t help but chuckle with joy. Princess Constance of Lancaster, if only his father and brother were here to meet his newborn daughter. “It’s perfect,” he told her with a smile. “Thank you.”

  II

  Tristan moaned as his mind slowly rose from the depths of darkness that consumed him. Upon opening his eyes, his first thought was that either he was still sleeping or completely blind, as not even the slightest bit of light illuminated the area around him. He smelled dank Earth and felt grains of it fall against his face, his hand reacting instantly to wipe it off. He heard someone next to him and recognized the familiar groans of his fiancé echoing around him.

  “Willow,” he whispered, trying to get her to stir. The air was thin, and his lungs were hurting from the constant strain to get oxygen. Wherever they were, there wasn’t any air getting through to them, and if they didn’t find a way out quick, they’d likely suffocate.

  “Tristan? Where are we?” he heard her soft voice float towards him in the darkness and he reached out experimentally and felt for her. She wasn’t too far as he only had to lean a bit to reach her and he sighed with relief that whatever was going on, they were together.

  He was about to shake his head, but she wouldn’t see that. “I don’t know, I can’t see anything. Can you?”

  Elves tended to have better vision than humans, so it wasn’t a stretch to think she might see something he’d missed, but she only moaned no in response. Then she muttered something under her breath and light blue light sprang into existence around them. She was laying on her side, the large weapon on her back digging into the dirt below. Her mother’s amulet was raised slightly over her head, the blue gem at its center pulsing with light.

  They were in a small rectangular box and by the feel of it, every surface was comprised of hardened dirt. There appeared to be no windows, no doors, and he had a sinking feeling that the only air they had was what had been trapped in here with them. That was not good. If they didn’t get out, they’d suffocate. Judging by the throbbing in his skull, that wouldn’t take too long. “Do you remember how we got in here?” he asked her, reaching with his hands to probe the walls for any give or sign of a way out.

  She shook her head. “Something grabbed my legs and pulled me down; then I blacked out.”

  It was exactly what had happened to him. Yet, they were the only ones down here. Where were the others? “Can you use your magic to find a way out?” he asked, not feeling hopeful but also not ready to give up just yet. This could not be how it ended for them, not after everything they’d been through.

  “I’ll try,” she replied softly. The air was growing thinner and they were running out of time. Why had someone gone through the effort of putting them there just to let them die? It made no sense.

  She spoke softly and he could feel the air around them grow denser. He looked for any signs of change, but there was nothing. A few minutes passed, then she let out a held breath, eyes searching his. “There’s a passage behind that wall behind you, but I don’t know how to get to it.”

  He turned and started to push against the solid dirt barrier, but nothing would give. How could they get out of here? He had to think, time was slipping with every breath he took. “We have to find a way through the wall.”

  Their eyes met, then both of them looked to the wooden sword still strapped to Willow’s side. Could they possibly?

  He was about to ask for it when her hand reached down and drew the Sword of Madera from its sheathe. Coming to his side, she placed the tip of the blade against the wall of dirt and both of them smiled when it began to ripple outward in waves. Reaching out, he felt his hand enter the wall as if being pushed through a pool of water. “I think we’re good. Let’s go before we’re out of air,” he whispered.

  “No argument there,” Willow replied, wrapping her arm around him tightly and pulling him with her as they plunged through the dirt wall.

  He held his breath, but his lungs were aching so bad that they wanted to just burst and suck the watery dirt in. He fought it, lights tingling in front of his eyes as they quickly made their way forward. Suddenly they were free, and he stumbled forward, falling to one knee and dragging Willow after him. When the sword broke contact with the wall, it solidified once more, and the tip of his right foot got stuck in the dirt. Angrily he yanked it free and looked around, Willow’s amulet still giving them a soft light to see by.

  She didn’t sheathe her sword, but held it out before her, ready to defend herself if she had to. They both had their armor on and when their captors found out that they had escaped, they’d realize their error in leaving them their weapons.

  The air was musty and not much stronger than it had been in that box of death, however, it was enough to clear his head and allow him to think straight once more. They were in a tunnel and it was a good thing he stumbled, because it barely came to their waist. Had the roof gone solid with their upper bodies still trapped, well, he wouldn’t think of what might have happened.

  “I don’t suppose you can do that flying thing that Merlin did with me on Saspe’s Peak, huh?” he whispered, not sure where their captors were and not wanting to gain attention.

  She shook her head, eyes peering down the left passage
. “Even if I could, we don’t know how far we are below the surface and we might drown in the attempt. Let’s go that way, I see a hint of light in the distance,” she finished, nodding towards the tunnel’s path.

  “I don’t see anything,” he croaked, his brain feeling sluggish as it tried to regain what it had loss.

  “Trust me,” she returned and squeezed his hand.

  “I always will,” he replied as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, wanting to make sure she knew how much he loved her in case this went south before he had the chance.

  They slowly began to creep forward, his back straining from being bent the way it was and his knees threatening to buckle beneath his weight. He drew Dragonslayer from his left side and held it before him, wondering where his shield had gotten off to. Maybe it’d been left stuck in the dirt above when he had been yanked through the earth. Well, it was just a shield, at least they still had the swords. Had they been lost—

  She was right, there was a bit of light ahead and he quickly motioned for her to kill the magic flowing from her amulet. If there was light, there might be someone at the other end of it and they didn’t need to draw attention to themselves before knowing what they were dealing with. They plunged into darkness with only a small pinprick of illumination ahead to guide by.

  As they drew closer, a horrible aroma began drifting their way. His nose drew up in disgust and when he glanced at Willow, he saw that the feeling was mutual. He tried to bury his nose against part of his cloak, but it was beginning to permeate everything, and it didn’t help at all to try and mask his incoming breath. Breathing only through his mouth made him want to gag even more.

  A doorway was just ahead, and he stopped to listen, but Willow shook her head, indicating she hadn’t heard anything yet. If you were going to be trapped in an underground cave, an elf or dwarf were the best races to have with you. Though, a dwarf might not be able to squeeze down this tunnel, he’d probably get stuck crawling with his butt and stomach pinched together. The image in his mind almost made him laugh. Then he got a gulp of the nasty air surrounding them and he instantly clamped his mouth shut.

  Cautiously, they walked through the doorway and found themselves on a ledge that ringed a giant pit. Another doorway was positioned on the opposite side but seemed to be only accessible by inching their way around the precipice without falling to the cavern below. Not that they’d have far to drop; the floor of the pit was about twelve feet down and it looked to be a dining area and kitchen. One side had a butcher’s block and a large array of cutting knives, while the other was open with rectangular dirt tables and mounds for chairs. The size of whatever sat there had to be small, the tables would only reach to his knees. His eyes traced the wall to his right and he found the source of the horrible smell that had been choking them to death.

  There were skinned body parts lying around a butcher’s table, flies buzzing over the exposed muscles. Some of them looked humanoid, but he recognized the sight of a horse carcass near the rear. A large pot was beginning to boil under a fire and he knew what the ingredients for the horrid stew was going to be. He gagged and motioned for Willow to start moving along the ledge. He wanted to be out of here before whoever set this meal to boil returned to add them to the rancid stew.

  She was stuck in place, her eyes fixed on something he had yet to see. He followed them and noticed that a brown leather hat was lying discarded in the corner. He had seen a hat like that before. “Hey, didn’t Token—?” he began, and she nodded quickly in horror, her eyes fixing on the dismembered body beneath them.

  “I need to get out of here,” her voice trembled as she slid a quick step away and along the ledge.

  He struggled to keep up with her, but she wore lighter armor and had elven agility, while he was a clumsy human in bulky armor. He felt his foot almost give and both hands gripped the sides of the wall to keep himself from plunging forward. He was hovering just over the boiling pot and would have gone right into it headfirst if he’d kept sliding off.

  Willow was standing in the doorway, looking at him with fearful eyes, and he cursed his sluggish movements. He just couldn’t move any faster. When he finally reached her, he saw her eyes fix on something behind him and the look upon her face made him turn as well. Sliding through the wall below were twenty or thirty brown short creatures. Their entire bodies looked to be made of dirt and you had to really squint in order to make them out against the chamber walls. The only thing not brown on their muddied forms were the light-yellow eyes and white glistening canines. It was eerie to look at. If they held still they would be nothing but floating eyes and teeth.

  She began to pull him away and the sound of his armor twisting echoed across the pit, making his stomach turn over in despair. Over sixty yellow eyes suddenly flashed their way and he thrust Willow down the tunnel; away from their screams of fury.

  The tunnel was angled upward, and he could just make out a hint of wet ferns starting to fill the air. They might be close to the surface. There was enough room to run standing up and his fiancé was soon sprinting ahead of him. He felt a tug on his leg and without thinking he pounced. He whipped his sword around and caught one of the monsters across its head with his flashing blade. The teeth were all points and had been inches from impacting the back of his helm; not that graphene would taste very good. Yet it was frightening how swift and silent these creatures were.

  More hands were reaching from below and he ran harder, letting his footfalls snap against any hand stupid enough to try and touch him. There were impacts on his back and he inhaled grains of fine sand as it buffered around him. Turning once more, he swept his sword in the faint light, kicking at any sign of yellow, bellowing with rage in an attempt to scare whatever they were off.

  “Get up here!” Willow called to him and he saw that she had made it to the end of the tunnel and appeared to be in the forest once more. Well, what good would that do? They weren’t limited to tunnels; they’d learned that firsthand. Still, he couldn’t argue with her. This felt like a losing battle as he struck creature after creature, each bursting into gushes of dirt only to be replaced by another nasty vermin trying to bite through his metal skin.

  He burst from the tunnel after kicking another creature in the head and sending its soiled ashes back at its roaring kin. Hundreds of eyes now stared at them from the darkness and he felt terror at what lay in store for them should they get caught again.

  Willow had a very large claymore in her hand and as he cleared the tunnel, she brought it crashing down to the earth, plunging the blade deep. The world shook violently around him, and he felt his teeth chattering as his body was thrown in multiple directions at once. Trees cracked and pine needles began showering like a torrent of rain. He could hear broken trees crashing in the distance and hundreds of screams echoing out of the tunnel they had just escaped from. Richter’s blade vibrated and the earth moved with every wiggle of the impaled sword. He tried to say something to Willow and only ended up biting his tongue; blood flooding his mouth.

  Damn that hurt. He was unable to regain his feet and he saw giant tree above him begin to split and lean their way. “Willow!” he managed, blood spraying from his outburst.

  She twisted the blade as if tearing into a heart and every creature that had been screaming and clawing their way exploded into clouds of dirt and rotten teeth. Then the tunnel collapsed. As he got to his feet and stumbled her way, he watched trees suddenly drop out of sight in the distance and knew that pit had just been buried for good.

  Good riddance.

  He felt the crack above their heads and grabbing Willow, yanked Richter free of the ground and flung her out of the path of the falling tree. Lunging after her, he felt the rush of wind and the loud thump mere inches from where his body landed.

  Breathing heavy, his lungs overjoyed with the fresh air flooding his body, he looked over at his fiancé and smiled. They had made it. Looking around the decimated forest, he saw that the moon had risen during their incarceration
, finally giving him a timetable for how long they’d been in that hell hole. They’d lost the entire day and the moon was halfway across the sky, so who knew how long they were truly lost beneath that horrific spectacle?

  He noticed that Richter was lying against his inner thigh and he hurriedly lifted the blade and handed it hilt first to his fiancé. “Please put that away, I almost lost my manhood.”

  “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” she purred, and he noticed that she was slowly moving in his direction.

  He was lying there in his armor, barely catching his breath, trying to hand a magical sword to his fiancé, and she was crawling to him like Trek hunting a mouse? She had stripped off her gloves and he watched as she began undoing her pauldrons as well.

  “This is hardly the place to be doing that! What are you doing?” he managed, voice quivering, laced with surprise, as she worked her way forward and began yanking off her armor.

  “I’m horny,” she answered simply with a mischievous smile.

  He felt stunned. “Right now? With those things right there?”

  She chuckled. “Don’t think they’ll be coming back for more, if there are any of them left alive that is. We almost died, do you realize that? If we had gone out that way—look, if you don’t start taking that armor off, I’m going to do it, and I won’t be gentle.”

  Wide-eyed, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but his hands were already stripping his armor free. He felt a sudden panic begin and he forced it down, her eyes drawing him in, and the helplessness he’d felt at that witch’s touch was quickly forgotten; replaced by the lust and love he felt for the naked elven girl pawing at his quickly exposed skin.

  As her mouth found his, his hands shoved the rest of his armor aside and pulled her close. Her leg lifted over his waist and he felt himself slide quickly into her. The violence of the rape he’d been put through slid free of his joints as the warmth of her waist pulled him deeper. He moaned into her mouth, the only feeling ravaging his mind was ecstasy. How could he have waited so long for this to happen once more?

 

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