The New Age Saga Box Set

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The New Age Saga Box Set Page 82

by Timothy A. Ray


  The bird was too large for her to take in hand, but she purposely walked towards the door and opened it wide enough for the shrike to exit freely. With a loud shriek, the jagged beak spread wide, tongue slithering out in anticipation, as large wings spread and quickly lifted the large bird into the air. Bordin ducked, but Erik remained still as the shrike dove for the door and soared out of view.

  She stepped out and watched as the shrike lifted into the air. “Such a magnificent predator should not be chained; it should be allowed to roam the skies as intended or killed outright.”

  She was talking about more than the bird, and the king knew it as he came to stand by her side, eyes watching the shrike circle overhead. “His keeping is in your hands now. I trust that you can ensure he won’t be a problem within the castle grounds?”

  She nodded, letting her thoughts reach out and tell the shrike to go hunting in the woods, but warning against taking any harmful actions within the castle walls. She felt the grudgingly compliance of her new friend and she smiled as he dove north and out of sight.

  “The roost will be moved to your balcony immediately. If you need anything to see to his care, just let me know. And thank you,” he told her softly, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

  Bordin came to stand next to the other elf and he looked to the sky with awe. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you have done so much for my daughters. Thank you for that.”

  Anger bristled underneath the surface of her skin, wondering how it suddenly became the man’s place to speak for her, but she had to purposely bite her tongue to keep from giving it voice. At least while in the presence of Forlorn’s monarch.

  “It wasn’t for you that I did it,” Erik remarked. “They have both earned every bit of gratitude they’ve received, and much more.” He turned to her and gave her one final smile. “You will always be welcomed into my home. If you feel up to it you can come to dinner later, but if you’d rather spend time with your new companions, I’d understand that as well.” With that, he clapped her on the shoulder one more time, then turned away.

  After a few steps, he stopped and looked at her once more. “By the way, the armory is open to you. Take what you need and feel free to upgrade that armor of yours, it looks worn and in need of replacing.”

  “Thank you,” she responded, bowing her head and as she watched the elf walk away. Then she realized that she was now alone with her father for the first time in her life.

  Bordin looked at her and winced at the anger flaring in her eyes. “If I had any idea—”

  “If your daughter knew there was a possibility then so did you. There were rumors of my birth long before your father knocked my mother up that second time and you abandoned her to her fate,” she muttered with years of anger rising unchecked. “But then, by the time she left, you had a new woman to focus on, didn’t you? She was quickly dismissed and forgotten.”

  “How dare you?” Bordin roared, squaring his shoulders and staring at her with undisguised fury. “How dare you pretend to know what I did and didn’t feel, what I knew and what I was purposely kept ignorant of. Yes, okay, I heard rumors of your birth, but those rumors also mentioned masked men in the night and your mother’s carousing about inns. I didn’t know for years that it was my father’s men feeding me those packs of lies, otherwise I would have sought you out and claimed you as my own. Did my father arrange my marriage to time with your mother’s disappearance? Yes. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t look for her! I looked for your mother for years, unable to find even a trace. And when I finally found—”

  Her father looked away then and she thought she saw a slight mist come over his eyes. Her anger refused to back down though, and she clenched her fist tightly; trying not to physically strike the man standing before her.

  “They told me that everyone on that farm perished. I grieved privately for your mother, and for you and your brother as well,” the king told her, his voice breaking. “I loved Lura with all my heart, I would have done anything to keep her with me. Even walk away from the crown and run away with her if need be. Whatever it took to protect her and be at her side until we both died of old age. You know,” he said, taking a step towards her, unafraid of the glare she was giving or the attack stance her body had unwillingly taken. “I heard tales of a white-haired ranger with albino eyes from some traveling merchants a few years ago and it immediately gave me hope. That is, after all, my mother’s hair and her birthmarks adorning your face.”

  That startled her, she didn’t think she had anything to mark her as his daughter and to find out it was her most defining features? “Hope for what?” she managed between gritted teeth, trying her best to ignore what he’d told her.

  “Redemption,” he muttered softly.

  She fumed for a few seconds longer, then looked deep into the other man’s eyes and her anger softened; the sincerity behind his words snaking their way into her heart. She forced her hands to unclench, shifting from one foot to another, unsure of what to say or how to respond. He reached out to embrace her, but she flinched, and he tentatively pulled his hand back.

  “I sent men to look for you, to bring you home to your rightful place by my side, but they weren’t able to track you fast enough. Then you just disappeared,” he told her, causing one of her eyebrows to rise.

  She had disappeared because Merlin had found her. Had the mage planned that all along? Where would she be right now if he’d left her alone? At Griedlok by her father’s side? What would that life had been like? Tuskar would still be alive. But then, Excalibur might have been lost to them and the threat of the Phoenix unstoppable as hell fire reigned down upon them. No, it had been the right thing going with the mage and she wouldn’t second guess that now.

  “You know, under Forlorn’s laws, you are the rightful heir to the crown as the eldest child,” he offered, despite his naming Tristan his heir the day before.

  She considered what he said only briefly, but then shook her head and grimaced. “That kind of life is not for me. I’m for the woods and the open fields, not the halls of a palace chained down like that shrike was inside. The crown is a leather tether, and I would not have it bound around my ankles instead.”

  He looked at her with a new appreciation and she shifted uncomfortably before his gaze.

  “You are truly my daughter. We have wasted thirty years already, let’s not waste anymore,” Bordin said after a pause, and though every bone in her body told her to embrace the man, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  She looked towards the sky and could feel the joy the shrike was feeling as he made his first kill of the evening. He’d taken down a deer and the glory of the moment swept over her. He had a new life, maybe it was time for her to move on with hers. “Let’s take it slow, okay?” she finally offered, it was the best she could do right now. “This is all new to me. After spending the last twenty years on my own, I’ve suddenly had a sister thrust upon me, and though I have slowly come to accept what that means, having a father now as well is just a bit—overwhelming.”

  He nodded in understanding and she slowly let her body loosen up; her stance to widen. “Why don’t we just walk for a while? I’d like to know more about what my mother was like when she was young, and you may be the only person that can answer the questions I have about her.”

  “I’d like that,” he responded with a smile and gestured for her to begin walking along the path that led to the palace gardens. “You know, she had her eyes glamoured at a young age. She was born with eyes as white as yours.”

  II

  “Sire,” Jarel greeted as he entered the palace. Revan was hanging out nearby and he knew the druid had been waiting for him as well.

  “What is it?” he asked the aide, motioning for the druid to accompany him.

  The elf fidgeted and that drew the king’s gaze to his nervous aide. “Sire, Haymdal was found murdered just a short while ago. One of the sentries caught Larahredhel emerging from the room, a recently wiped dagg
er concealed within her bodice.”

  The king sighed. He hadn’t gotten around to dealing with the politician and seer yet, and now his reluctance to unwind what his past life had wrought was carried through to fruition due to his inaction. “Is there any doubt that she did the deed?” he asked the aide, suddenly mournful over the older elf’s death. He had been a worthy adversary and deserved a better fate than the one he’d been dealt.

  “None, Sire,” the aide responded immediately and without hesitation.

  “Have her executed. Her traitorous deeds cannot be allowed to spread any further than they already have. Our time is too short for anything else,” he ordered after brief consideration.

  “Yes, Sire,” Jarel bowed, then rushed to see it done.

  Revan stepped to his side. “Is that wise? The seers will not like their chief representative killed without the benefit of a trial.”

  “Then let them try to explain her actions. Either way, we cannot afford to wait. The people will be seeking blood for the death of their representative as well, and I’d rather piss off one small group rather than the entire Elven Nation housed within these walls,” he told the magister, shaking his head with regret. He should’ve acted sooner, had her arrested or interrogated her himself. That it had come to this—

  “There is another matter that is of some concern,” Revan told him as they continued on.

  He sighed, of course there was; there was always something.

  “There’s been a lot of harsh words and threats of actions against the presence of the orcs outside these walls,” the druid told him, and that made Erik’s anger begin to rise.

  “Those orcs broke free of their bonds of slavery, slew their masters, and willingly came here to help defend us against the Phoenix’s forces, and they would have me do what? Tell them to go home? And where is that exactly? They will be murdered the instant they step a foot into the Deadlands now,” he raged, unable to give voice to the real fury within his soul.

  His daughter had been taken from him and he, more than anyone else, had a reason to hate them for what they were and represented. Yet he saw an opportunity here, one that he would not waste on past prejudices or unwarranted hatred. If one group of orcs could be freed, why not another? What would happen if the Phoenix’s own armies rose up against her? It was too tempting a thought to just dismiss out of hand.

  “Make sure that it’s known that anyone caught raising a hand against the orcs will be thrown in the stockades and tried for treason. They are our guest and will be treated as such,” he told the magister, his voice firm and resolved. “Speaking of orcs, have you made the arrangements as I have suggested?”

  Revan paused as he chanced a wary glance at his king. “I have. You have to know that this might just make things worse.”

  “Or better,” he replied back. “What he did for us cannot go unrecognized. We have rewarded the ranger, the newly wed prince and princess, and the other members of their group should be compensated as well. I am standing here before you right now because of their actions to save me, and I am honor bound to see them rewarded for their efforts.”

  The druid chuckled. “That worked well with that black armored companion of theirs, didn’t it?”

  “You’re speaking of Reyna?” he asked, even though he knew full well who the druid meant. They were names that should be remembered, not spoken of as if in an offhand way. She had lost her brother during the quest to retrieve Excalibur, and though the others had suffered as well, hers had been the one most dear.

  Earlier that morning she had been offered a place in the Knights of the Realm and had declined the offer without hesitation. Surprised, he had inquired as to why, and she had tartly responded that she would not make an oath she couldn’t keep. Humility, sacrifice, these were not her ways. She was not pure, and the one emotion she did harbor was vengeance for the death of her brother; which she intended to carry out against the Phoenix without delay. It was unbefitting of a knight and she had owned it quite vocally. She had, however, delighted over the armory he left at her disposal and when he had left her, he felt a shiver run up his spine. He had quietly thanked the Gods that she was on their side.

  “King Storvirk has asked to join you for dinner, I think his men are beginning to run low on ale,” the druid told him with a quick laugh.

  The King of Alamar had politely refused his offers at staying within the palace, stating that his place was among his men, and had yet to set a foot within the castle walls. He might have taken it personally if he hadn’t been just grateful for their presence. That he wanted to join him now was a bold statement of the king’s independence and he nodded his head with a smile. Whatever they needed to keep them happy, he had a feeling they would earn the ale they consumed soon enough.

  “You should know that the dwarf declined your offer as well. He stated that he was an outcast of the Dwarven Nation and it wouldn’t do you any favors to knight him into the brotherhood. He asked for a couple of barrels of Grog and a few pouches of tobacco instead,” the magister informed him, and Erik smirked. Now that sounded just like a Dwarven response. Revan eyed him for a second, then looked away as he spoke. “Where’s Merlin gotten off to?”

  He let it hang in the air for a few moments, then reluctantly sighed. “He declined a room in the palace, asking instead for one of the abandoned cottages behind the castle in order to meditate and prepare for what’s coming our way. He assured me he’d be on hand when needed and I had no choice but to grant his request.”

  “You let him go out there unprotected?” Revan blurted with shock.

  He chuckled, “I don’t think it’s him that needs protection, but anyone that decides to intrude upon his chosen solitude. Let him be for now. He will be here when we need him.”

  The druid slowly nodded his head as they walked into the knight’s hall and looked upon the towering orc waiting for them at the base of the steps.

  The warrior bowed his head as the king approached. He quickly held out his hand and grasped the massive palm within his own. Red eyes met his and for the first time in his life, he stood before an orc bereft of a weapon and with no concern for the safety for himself or those around him.

  “Have you accepted what I have offered you?” he asked the behemoth. They’d had words before he had gone to meet with the ranger and he saw the slight nod of the orc’s head. “Good. I hope you know how rare an honor this is, and that you will hopefully be the first of many in the years ahead as we work together to free your people.”

  “Kore know Elves need free Orcs. For Orcs, Kore accept,” the giant man responded in his broken common tongue and he saw great pride in how the man held himself. Apparently, he’d been named the commander of the orc forces camped without, and he now held himself to a higher standard in recognition of the loyalty shown him.

  “Spend tonight in silent prayer before the altar of the Gods. Tomorrow you will rise a Knight of the Realm and a member of our brotherhood,” he told the orc proudly, clapping the man on the shoulder. He could see the warning glance in Revan’s eyes, but he ignored it. He would do this out of merit—racial threats of violence be damned.

  Kore bowed his head in response and turned to head in the direction of the chapel.

  “What did Pendoran think about this?” the druid asked as the warrior disappeared from sight.

  “He was less vocal than he was over Tristan’s knighting. He recognizes a seasoned fighter when he sees one and understands the risks we must take in order to triumph against our enemies,” he responded with a grin.

  “In other words, you told him that this is how it was going to be and get behind it or you’ll have him cleaning the latrines again?” Revan asked with a grin.

  He grunted. “Yeah, something like that.”

  The druid burst into laughter as they exited the hall and headed towards the palace. “You know, I sure hope you know what you’re doing. You’re beating a hornet’s nest with a stick. Are you sure you won’t get stung by what flies out?�


  “War is about strategy and risk; you can’t win without a good measure of both. No, I have made the right decision. If anyone else has a problem with that, let them voice it when the hordes arrive. I’ll like to hear what they have to say then,” he told the druid as he stepped out of the hall and into the path beyond.

  It was time to see his wife and greet the King of Alamar; this was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 24

  Morgan

  I

  Kylee stood in the armory, admiring the elven made weapons and armor with greedy eyes, wondering if she could just sweep it all up and abscond with it back to her room. It would be a hell of a lot of walking, and there would be no way of hiding what she was doing. Still, Erik did say to help herself—yet she knew he meant within reason.

  Swords, daggers, platemail, and leather; the room had everything that a warrior would need to become an unstoppable juggernaut on the battlefield, and she felt a giddiness inside that she had been allowed free access to all of it.

  She had scraped by on almost nothing her entire life. Everything she owned had been hard earned, pieced together over the span of her adult life, their collective mismatched appearance a reflection of the life she’d led—her identity. Part of her instinctively wanted to walk out and stick with what she had, but there was just no way she’d be able to do that, and she knew it; sentimentality or not.

  She bypassed the quivers, the one that Merlin had given her was too valuable to replace; she’d use it til it was nothing but tatters or the magic gave out. Instead, her eyes drifted to a set of composite longbows fixed to the wall and her eyes ran along their elegant lengths with a studious eye. They looked sturdy, efficient, and the runes that ran along the limbs were subtle; making them appear as a natural part of the wood. She reached out and lifted one free of the hooks holding it into place. She twisted it slowly, admiring the curvature. Her fingers automatically reached for the chord and drew it back, testing its resistance. It felt natural within her hands, more at home than the human made bow she was currently using. Flexing her arms, she purposely bent it further and listened to the silent groan of the wood.

 

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