The Third Sign

by Scott D. Muller

  A hook on the end of a strap on their belts snagged the bowstring. Holding their crossbows anchored to the ground by putting their foot through the stirrup, they drew their bows by straightening their legs, straining against the thick yew prod. After locking the mechanism’s tickler, they centered their quarrels on the nut and then peeked out from behind the shields and fired at gourds placed against man-sized wood targets. The yellow yew bows and sinew bridle strings twanged as the missiles sped on their way, some issuing loud ‘thunks’ as they hit the target, some sailing past and clattering against the rock outer walls of the escarpment.

  The man yelled loudly at his troops as they fumbled to load and fire in unison. He counted loudly and watched to see if they performed the correct step on the correct count. Those that didn’t faced his wrath and threats of kitchen duty for poor performance. After several rounds, he walked to the targets and inspected the shots. The men bowed their heads in shame at his obvious disappointment. To’paz frowned. It was going to be a very long day for those men.

  She passed the next gatehouse, entered the inner ward, and headed straight for the forebuilding. She had been here many times before and often enjoyed casually strolling past the myriad merchants selling local wares and goods from across the I’jean Sea, although none ventured far enough to reach Edu’bar. The rift in the sea where the world ended prevented that journey.

  This time, she had purpose to her steps and quickly skirted merchants eager to show her their wares. Even though they had yet to set up, they weren’t about to miss an opportunity to vie for a potential paying customer. They shoved silver and copper metal-beaded jewelry and highly-decorated clay-fired pots in front of her face as she walked. Normally, she would have been intrigued by the interwoven knotted designs and the fine detailed drawings of their pagan gods, but she was single-minded. She raised her hand and looked away, hoping they’d lose interest and leave her alone.

  As she approached the sturdy forebuilding, she stuck tightly to the left side, knowing that the stairs on the right led to the main Keep and the residence of the Lord of this realm, one Lord Artimus. He was a lanky man, well kept with fine upbringing and manners; he ran a well-disciplined army and didn’t tax the peasants too badly. Known as a fair and just man, he governed using Machiavellian intelligence, but was short-fused and prone to lose his temper quickly, turning red faced and cussing as he saw fit. His biggest shortcoming was that he lacked patience. To’paz had seen him rush off, more than one time, before he knew the complete story, often to suffer high costs in men and arms.

  The forebuilding was crafted from very huge stones, carefully shaped and stacked. The building towered above her, and she could just make out the oil pots at the top, always kept at the ready in case of invaders. She headed toward the door that led to the lower areas where the mundane day-to-day business of the castle was conducted, mostly by the captain of the guard, the head of the militia, a couple of advisors and Merl. She went directly to a set of oversized doors at the base. There was a young guard standing there blocking her way, holding his sword menacingly. She knew she would have to ask to see the mystic.

  “I pray young guard, is Merl in?” she asked the youth.

  “He might, my Lady. Who is it that be asking?” the youth answered smugly, resting his hand on the butt of his falchion as he tossed the corner of his balandrana aside to display the new weapon. His balandrana was typical of the heave-woven cloaks that all travelers wore, with the exception of a small embroidered patch with the crest of the Lord. He was dressed in his chainmail, cinched at the waist with a sturdy cord. He had his coif on, which covered the better part of his long flowing blond hair, and his buskins were clean, if not polished.

  To’paz smiled. From the look of him, he couldn’t have been seventeen, and this was probably his first assignment. He stood tall with his chest puffed out like a peacock.

  “I’m Lady To’paz of Winseer (that is what she called herself here). I was a student of Merl some years back. Mayhap I can get an audience with him please? It won’t take long and it is of the uttermost import!”

  “The mystic is indisposed. He is not to be disturbed by writ of the Lord. Go away,” he said, dismissing her.

  “I’m not going anywhere until I talk to the mage,” she declared.

  “Please Lady, I pray you to leave. You are going to suffer me in trouble,” he said nervously, while his head moved side to side to make sure nobody was watching.

  Nobody dismissed To’paz and she didn’t have time to wait, so she used a little of the gift to gently persuade the youth to let her in. He nodded and replied to the voice in his head and stepped to one side, as she walked past him into the hall.

  “Thank you!” she called back to the guard, after she was well down the hall.

  He just stood there; scratching his head looking around and wondering why he had let her pass as she disappeared down the hall. To’paz walked down the circular staircase toward the dungeon of the Keep. The uneven steps always threw her off balance, one-step tall, one short, another couple tall, and so it went.

  When she got to the bottom, she broke off to the right and continued down the poorly lit hall. Only the flicker of a single torch lit the way and the smell of cheap-burnt tallow filled the stagnant and stale air. She quickly walked past several doors with heavy metal locks before she stopped and grabbed a handle. She stood there for a second, contemplating her future before she swallowed hard and pushed open the last oak door located at the very end of the very long hallway, and entered the cavernous room.

  Merl looked up at the sound of the squeaky hinges and was surprised; actually, he was very surprised at the caller he saw walking through the heavy oak door of his library. He recognized her immediately, Lady To’paz. He remembered her well, she had been one of those rare students that came along once in a lifetime—spirited, open to new ideas, and well schooled.

  He also remembered her fine figure…and the slap. What a slap! He unconsciously rubbed his chin where the blow had landed, almost spinning him completely around. He figured he should forgive her. As he remembered it, he was very young, very rude and it still made him smile! He wasn’t sure he would have said or done anything different even if he had the opportunity to change history.

  Merl set down the lovely green and yellow bubbling potion he was working on, carefully placing it in a wooden rack along with several others, and walked over to greet her as she crossed the opulent room. She removed her shawl as she approached and shook out her long raven hair.

  Merl stood there, mouth agape, staring at her. Her blouse was blood red, made of silk and cut very loose, scandalous at best! It was so thin he could see her….and her sable leather leggings were so tight, they left little to the imagination, with generous skin peaking through at the side of her legs, where the fine doeskin was laced. Her skin was bronze. He could swear she appeared as though she hadn’t aged a year.

  Merl wondered. Even with his strong magic, his hair had grayed and his eyes reflected his true age with deep lines and wrinkles in the corners. He even needed his thin spectacles to see up close now and carried them everywhere he went. And yet, she looked not a day older.

  He realized he was staring and closed his mouth, extending his hand in greeting, “Lady To’paz, well met! How art thou? Hast it not been a near eternity?”

  “I’m fine, Sir! Thank you,” she said, with a shallow curtsey, and greeted him warmly. She extending her hand to him, before moving close to give him a cordial hug.

  “What a wonderful surprise! I don’t get many visitors down here,” Merl laughed jovially. “Pray tell me, what brings you to my humble abode?”

  “I’ve come to visit you.” She flipped her hair back over her shoulder, “And it isn’t a wonder you get few visitors given how the guards greeted me, and how well they safeguard your lair.”

  “Ah! The guards, well yes, they can be a bit much, can’t they?” he replied after giving a quick glance in the direction of the door.

 
“Hmmm,” To’paz smiled. “Nicely dressed though ...”

  “New uniforms, you like them?”

  To’paz shrugged and crinkled her nose.

  “Pray, me neither, but the Lord thinks they’re fabulous!” he laughed.

  “You’re pale. You should get out more,” she bantered.

  “I should, but the work,” he sighed. “I’m afraid it consumes me.”

  She took several steps closer and looked over his shoulder while he put away some of the items he was studying.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “How have you been? It’s been what, twenty years since you left? Or is it more?”

  To’paz flipped her hair out of her face. “It’s actually been a little over twenty-six years. I am doing quite well, considering the times, thanks for asking.”

  “Aye. Things have been a touch violent as of late,” Merl said, shaking his head from side to side.

  He had heard of the destruction of the northern village that happened just a night ago, but preferred to turn a deaf ear to current affairs and the foul politics that smothered the land. His work occupied his every waking hour. He didn’t have time for the petty games of the Lords.

  “Indeed! These are dire times,” Lady To’paz said, melancholy. “I heard that an entire town was hit by mage fire to the north yesterday…”

  “Haven’t heard,” he stammered, cutting the discussion short, as he closed the diary in which he had been writing his findings and placed it with the others that were neatly stacked on the table.

  “So, what brings you to my door? I assume you didn’t just happen past the guards to see me.” Merl asked, changing the subject.

  “The guard was warm and welcoming,” To’paz laughed. “He just needed… the right, how would you say it ... motivation!”

  Merl arched an eyebrow, catching her meaning. “You always were a very persuasive woman,” he chortled, “albeit headstrong.”

  “I haven’t changed,” she snorted.

  “So I see!” Merl scoffed, eyeing her critically.

  “You’ve changed. A little grayer I notice, more distinguished. Is that staff for more than just leaning on?”

  “This? Yes, I find it quite useful these days. It holds a dragon eye that seems to help my spells. Do you like it?”

  “You kill the dragon?” she asked, with disdain.

  “I say; nothing quite so dramatic. I came across the dead beast whilst out collecting herbs in the southern highlands.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t kill one of the mystical creatures. Pity to do so just for a keepsake,” To’paz smiled softly. “It does make you look so mage-like.”

  Merl snorted, letting an unbridled crackle of energy flow over the transparent red glaring eye.

  To’paz leveled her brows and set her hand gently on his shoulder, “Merl, can we sit and talk?”

  “I have much to do,” he replied hesitantly.

  “This won’t take long; I have a proposal for you I think you will find—intriguing.” She continued to talk while leisurely walking past one of the sturdy wooden tables. It was covered with bottles of herbs, strangely colored liquids, and a few very oversized leather covered tomes.

  She picked one off the shelf and pretended to be interested in its contents. She set it down, wrinkling her nose slightly.

  “I may be able to spare a few minutes,” he said, fiddling with his potions, lining them into straight rows by color.

  She picked up a cage and squinted through the wire posts. “I see you are raising newts?”

  He chuckled. “I am. They’re hard to come by you see, but they’re easy to raise and multiply like rabbits, once you figure out which ones are female. Did you know they make a respectable stew? Tastes a little like chicken.”

  She smirked, “Becoming a cook, or just dabbling in potions?”

  “I have the need now and then ... to do both. As you may know, they’re part of every base stock ... er, potion. One must expand one’s horizons, explore that with which we’re unfamiliar,” he said, giving her a large gap-toothed grin.

  “Hmm!” She slowly circled around the table and motioned for him to sit as she took up residence on a soft cushioned chair he kept by the walk-in hearth of the fireplace. The fire had burned down; taking the chill off the room, but the thick leather was still hot from the flame and the heaping pile of glowing coals that radiated in the hearth.

  She sat down with one leg tucked under the other. Her leather pants pressed tight to her thighs and Merl got a glimpse at the fine shape of her legs. Lady To’paz smiled; she had his attention. Now all she had to do was set the hook.

  Merl thought to himself, pondering past encounters. What was it she had said…? Ah! She had alleged something about being able to help him bear out one of his theories on the ancients. He thought she was propositioning him when she said that. He drew his lips thin remembering that he had been wrong and that it had earned him a blisteringly sharp slap.

  At the time, there were maidens by the score looking to further their reputations in the realm. Still, she hit him. He deserved it, he supposed; he had been very full of himself in his youth. Some might even say—arrogant!

  Merl stared at her and stroked his beard pondering her sudden appearance today. To’paz had integrity and at her core was someone who was earnest in her desire to help, a do-gooder. The Lady, as he remembered from all of their debates and discussions, was always very honest, if not evasive, a trait he shrugged off as being typically female. On the other hand, he found it highly unusual, even suspect, for someone of her stature to be interested in such things as potions and magic, given that most ladies of the realms were far more interested in bedding a Lord.

  Merl found that he was nervous, and when he was nervous, he sweated. He felt himself getting aroused as he nonchalantly eyed the peek-a-boo holes in her leather pants. He had always found her to be highly ... desirable. She was one of the more beautiful maidens of the realm and her tight leather pants were not giving him grounds to alter his opinion, although his recollection of her from years ago was one of more refined modesty than she was exhibiting here and now.

  He flung his long wool epitoga around his legs and sat down on the other chair directly across from her. He rested his ankles on a footstool and kept his hands folded casually in his lap. He was very glad he was wearing the baggy flowing robe that was customary for mystics of the day. He wasn’t exactly sure why she had called on him, but he was sure that it wasn’t a coincidence. She had a reputation for not wasting words or actions.

  Although he had never bumped into her all these years, he heard stories and rumors of her healings. He often thought about seeking her out, but always seemed to get distracted, either with his art, or with requests by the Lord to interpret his dreams.

  Lady To’paz leaned forward, her blouse billowing, giving him a clean look at her right breast, especially when she breathed in. He tried not to stare and to control himself. His palms itched; they always itched when he was nervous. He scratched at them unconsciously.

  “Do you remember the lecture you gave on magic of the ancients?” To’paz inquired.

  Merl slowly dipped his chin; he remembered the lecture quite well. Back in the day, when he aspired to teach magic to people, she had argued that in the past, there were wizards that were far more powerful than any alive today. She also hypothesized that most, if not all, of their craft had been forgotten or lost over the millennia. She had said that if one looked hard enough, the clues were everywhere.

  “What would you say if I could prove to you that those wizards and sorceresses I talked about do indeed exist today?”

  Merl stared in disbelief; he knew he had made a face, but she was serious. He couldn’t suppress a curt laugh. He rolled his eyes, threw his head back and roared, realizing that it had to be in jest.

  “Ha!” he exclaimed with glee, “You got me. A most excellent joke! After all, I am the most powerful mage in the realm, I know of no other.”

  To’paz rolled her
eyes, and looked the very image of injured innocence, but Merl failed to see.

  Merl played up the pompous act, “And even I am no match for the magi of the past described in the ancient tomes I found.”

  He was getting irritated now. This was his life’s work she was toying with, not just his ideas. He had spent the better part of the past twenty-five years trying to decipher the ancient tome that he discovered inadvertently when he was on a quest to find the rare black truffle mushroom. The tasty tidbits were often found under the deep forest’s elms and willows. By accident, he stumbled upon the entrance to the cave, literally stumbled.

  Curiosity got the better of him and whilst exploring he discovered the artifacts deep in the damp smooth limestone cave. They had been astounding and confusing him for years.

  “Why do you taunt me?” he scoffed, while the corner of his mouth quivered. “Damn you! Be off with you woman ... I have no time for your silly games!”

  “Merl, I jibe you not,” she said sincerely, letting her response hang for several heartbeats.

  Merl scowled and turned toward her. His face was red and his jaw quivered as he tried to control his temper. He considered the best spell to use to teach her a lesson.

  “I am not jesting or making merry at your expense. I’m quite serious in what I suggest,” she said reassuringly, staring back into his eyes. “I will show you proof. I will explain everything, but you must promise me that you will do a special favor for me. I’m afraid I have gotten myself into a conundrum and need help. Specifically, I need your help.”

  “Ah, the Lady needs a favor…favors tend to get people into trouble,” he said, crossing his arms and shrugging. A scowl filled his face, making him briefly appear older than he was.

  To’paz batted her eyes slightly, “Come now, this favor will not get you in trouble; it does not involve the lending of money; is not dangerous and is not against the law of the land. You might in fact find it reasonably—pleasurable.”