“Sometimes, people are willing to share bodies just to live a longer life. These things can be worked out. Accidents happen all the time, like you said!” she uttered, snapping her fingers.
“But using a child like that? You will never see them grow up.”
“I can use some of my reserves to make them grow quicker. It doesn’t take much for a baby ... or small child. Not like an old adult. Moreover, I would be with them always. They would wear the bracelet until I was restored. I could talk to them in their dreams, guide them, and explain what I have learned here!”
“I don’t know ...” Merl said, rubbing his beard. “Fathering a child is a big commitment.”
“I don’t want a commitment, I want your seed! You don’t have to get involved beyond that. We won’t bother you. You’ll never see us again,” she finished, and sat with her hands in her face, sobbing. Her eyes were red and her cheeks swollen.
“Why me?” Merl demanded to know.
“I have reasons,” she sobbed, pulling in a sniffle.
“Why not just grab an adventurer or mercenary at one of the local inns and be done with it?” Merl asked, puzzled, wondering how he fit into the picture.
Of all the guys in Balder, why did she have to pick him? He knew there were plenty of good-looking fighters that would be more than willing to help her out with the problem of getting pregnant. They would sire offspring that were strong. He wasn’t the best of his race, rather weak, sickly at times. He thought he was a very poor choice.
“Because you have the gift you fool! I need someone with the gift,” she yelled at him, clutching her fist in front of her face. “Damn you! You have the gift ... the gift! My child must have a fighting chance when exposed to the source. Without the gift, I cannot be restored, I cannot advise the child, and I cannot teach him.”
“My magic is nothing like yours,” he murmured. “I think you overestimate what I am.”
“I think I have chosen wisely,” she said, pleading with him. She had stopped crying and she wiped her nose with her hand. “I think you are far more than you appear. I have watched you over the years. I have heard tales of both your skill and your wisdom.”
“Wisdom, is that what you call it? Ha! More like common sense, which seems to be totally lacking around here! I am not so special as to be put upon some pedestal, or to sire a race of wizards.”
“Not a race, just one!’ she said, hanging her head low.
“It just doesn’t seem right to be bringing a child into the world knowing you’ll be gone in a few years.”
“I can’t just get pregnant by anybody. I need the child to be passed the gift from both parents. I’ve explained that. That’s the only way my spirit will get back home. That’s the only way I can leave this Darkhalla-hole you people have made.”
Merl’s head shot up and he frowned at the words she used to describe his home. “It’s not a whatever-hole!’
“It is,” she sneered. “When was the last time you went outside and walked the realm? It’s filled with thieves, thugs, charlatans, and overbearing Lords. They prey on all that could be decent. You war over nothing; you soil the land, strip the forests, destroy cities, pillage villages, your Lords steal from the poor and give nothing back in return.”
“Is it really that bad?” he said, hanging his head.
Deep inside, he knew it was bad, but had pretended it was not. He buried his head in his studies, ignoring the plight of the common man and turning a deaf ear to the atrocities that he heard of nearly every day. What she said was true. This place was a Darkhalla, if by that she meant some abominable place; he wasn’t familiar with the place she referenced. It was why he spent so much time wandering the mountains.
She moaned, “I have spent my life trying to keep all of you from destroying yourselves; a lifetime hunting demons and lower plane beings, thieves, cutthroats, disposing of war lords. A lifetime, wasted!”
She turned her back to him and stared into the embers in the hearth. “This is the only chance I have of ever getting out of here.”
“Out of here?”
“To go home; I could get home by having my essence transferred into the child. The child can then cross back to my realm before they close the gates permanently,” To’paz pleaded. “Otherwise, I just wither and die…”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Merl said. “You expect me to sire your child like some stud wandering a pasture on a farm? And then what? You expect me to just walk away, and forget everything, to pretend like nothing ever happened between us, and leave our child?”
“Like you’ve never done so in the past,” she said indignantly. ”Only now you know my story and know me better than the tens of wenches you’ve bedded over the years. Is that not the truth?”
The words she said stung him, but she was right. He had taken advantage of many one-night rendezvous before, some of them with members of the court, some with hopeful apprentices. He had never given it a second thought in the past and wondered why he was growing a conscience now. This bothered him for some reason, bothered him to his core as if it was vile, and wrong. He deliberated on why he felt that way.
“What makes me so different? Am I that repulsive?” she asked, warming herself in front of the fireplace. “Does my appearance do nothing for you? You certainly wanted me back twenty-five years ago. What has changed?”
She unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall from her shoulders. She turned slowly to face Merl, letting the red silk slide from her fingers to the floor. Merl sat there staring at her flat stomach and watching her full breasts rise and fall with each breath she took.
He wanted to resist, he truly did, but found that he could not. He was terrible with temptation. He was weak-willed when it came to temptations of the flesh. She was everything he had ever dreamed about late at night, when he laid alone in his dank cold room. She was his fantasy come alive. She was willing to be his, if only for one night. He didn’t know what to do, for he too was lost with desire, he had been alone a long time.
“I-I” he stuttered.
She put her feet together and released the catch on her leggings. Slowly, ever so slowly, she untied the leather thongs. Merl watched her peel the leather leggings off and slowly slide them, inch by inch, off her hips before finally letting them fall to the ground. It was all she was wearing.
Her well-toned legs flexed as she stepped out of the leather leggings. She turned slightly sideways and bent over stiff-legged, and picked up the pants, folding them and setting them on the table. She walked seductively, hips swaying until she was in front of him. She was just inches from his face and he could smell the rose water she had dabbed on her thighs. He could see shadows dancing across her frame from the flickering flames of the hearth.
She was directly in front of him when she ran her hands up her legs, over her supple stomach and up to her breasts. She was standing with the fireplace to her back and the light danced between her thighs. She pushed him down onto the lounge as she lifted a knee onto the couch, straddling his lap as she took his face in her hands and brought his lips to her stomach.
She slowly slid her body down his until her lips touched his. Merl could resist no longer and he slid his quaking hands up her thighs, over her smooth silky hips, grabbed her firm buttocks, and pulled her down tight to his lap, embracing her.
Merl was resting when To’paz got up off of the couch, his chausses draped over the chaise. She felt wonderful, wonderful and pregnant. Even now, so shortly after conception, she knew. She felt beautiful and she was deliriously happy. She woke Merl up and they spent the rest of the afternoon seeking pleasures. She forgot the future. He forgot the past. It was a match made in heaven.
A loud rap came to the door and a squire let himself in, demanding that Merl see the King immediately. He stared at To’paz lying nearly naked on the couch, partially covered by Merl’s robe, and snorted loudly. She slid a leg up and exposed a well-shaped thigh, making no motion to appear demure. The squire grinned. He was enjoying the fact that he wa
s disturbing their time together.
Merl resisted, but the squire insisted and he knew he had to go, but promised that he would come back right after his audience was finished. To’paz told him that she would not be there. She tried to explain things, but he was blinded with his lust for her and couldn’t hear her words. She finally gave up and left the explanation alone and simply said that she had things that she had to take care of out of town.
Her time was short. She grabbed his robe and followed him to the door as she held it to her bosom. She gave him a last, long embrace before he rushed off to handle the affairs of state. She watched him disappear down the hallway before she closed the heavy door so that he wouldn’t hear her sobs or see the tears she wept. She had watched him disappear around the corner of the stairwell and knew it would be the last time she would see him before the baby was born. By then she would be a shadow, a shade of her current self. He would lose interest and ignore her.
To’paz got dressed and hastily made her way out of the castle and back toward her home. It was already getting late in the day and the White moon was already rising as the sun dropped behind some of the higher peaks surrounding her valley. She enjoyed the sunset as she watched the bottoms of the thin clouds turn gold and orange. The air cooled quickly after the sun dipped beneath the horizon and she could already see the first signs of frost gathering on the tips of the grass.
The mountains turned a deep amethyst and the temperature dropped precipitously once the sun left the sky, causing her to clutch her shawl tightly around her shoulders. She walked quickly being careful not to twist an ankle, winding her way down the road toward her home. The merchants had packed up their wares and had left a long time ago. The road was desolate. She listened to the sound of the leaves under her boots as she hurried, trying to get home before twilight.
Soon after she arrived, she set about preparing for her ordeal. She packed lightly, but she gathered plenty to eat, mostly dried beans, meats and soups she had made. She took her herbs and spices, teas and medicines. There was precious little else she would need where she was going. She grabbed her heavy blanket and her bedroll, shut the door of the little hut and started walking back into the mountains.
She walked for a couple of hours in the dark, using only the Ocht’or moon for light. Eventually, she came to an outcropping of rock, sheltered and secluded, near where she remembered the gate being. A few steps toward the dais let her know she was in the right location because she felt the magic pushing her away. She looked up at the two towering totems that straddled the platform. They looked innocent enough, but their magic was strong.
After setting up camp, fetching water from a nearby stream, and gathering enough firewood for the night, she prepared her dinner. It bubbled in the pot she had placed on flat rocks straddling a small fire she lit using flint and steel, something she hadn’t done since she was a small child. While the soup cooked in the shallow iron pot, she laid out her blankets atop a pile of pine needles she pushed out into the open with her feet.
She sat cross-legged on her blanked, ate her soup and drank her tea. A lone wolf howled in the distance, she listened as the hoot owls, and crickets joined the chorus.
It was very late. Tomorrow would be a very exhausting day. She wrapped herself in the thick wool blanket and watched her fire flicker. It cast shadows among the trees and added a soft orange glow to the leaves. She watched as the thin silver veiled clouds danced across the moon and caused the shadows of the trees to shimmer. It would be cold tonight, she thought. A frost had already started to set on the grass and the mist was gathering above the stream.
The events of the day finally caught up with her and she struggled to keep her eyes open, but could not. Exhausted, she laid down on the soft mossy ground. She sighed, gazing at the stars through half closed eyelids and felt the new life inside of her as it grew. She placed her hand on her stomach and fed a little magic into the little boy. She smiled widely, and slid off into sleep.
Clarity of Purpose
Ja’tar and Zedd’aki started their trip back to the Keep just before dawn, just as the sky was already starting to glow to the east and the songbirds were starting to sing. The climb back down from the mountain had been more difficult than either had imagined, and they needed to rest far longer than they planned.
It had taken them twice as long to climb back down the mountain than they had allotted time for, mostly because of poor planning. Halla, they hadn’t planned at all, and they ended up having to find a different place to climb down!
Once down, they were forced to walk almost a half-league in the dark before they found a narrow ravine that they could half slide, half climb down. They clung to small shrubs and roots as they searched for secure footing in the scree and shale that littered the steep, narrow, ravine. Although the ravine had been a lifesaver, it presented its own problem. They were so far off course; they had to bushwhack through the thrush and thorny shrubs to get back to the road.
Ja’tar hobbled along, using his staff to lean on because the contusions on his feet from the rock climb were making it difficult for him to walk. His thin leather boots had not provided much protection from the sharp and jagged rocks, and he swore he could feel every stone and rough spot in the road. He winced again. They hadn’t gone far when he had to stop and spell his feet to protect them from further damage.
“My feet are a fright,” he said, cringing.
Zedd’aki watched as he sat down on a rock next to the road and removed his shoes. He made sure his stockings were straight before he cast his spell numbing his feet. He grunted, bending over and putting his shoes back on. He knew he would be very sorry in the morning, but for now, they needed to get back to the Keep and time was running out. At least for the next hour or so he would be pain free.
“We have to hurry,” Zedd’aki said unsympathetically. “Dawn is coming soon.”
Ja’tar grunted and stood up testing the effectiveness of his spell, “Just give me a minute…”
Zedd’aki stood with his hand on his hips glowering.
“What? It’s not like we will turn to pumpkins when the day breaks.”
Zedd’aki shook his head, turned and continued the trek up out of the valley.
They slowly made their way back up the long hill from the valley where they had been, talking along the way. By the time they reached the top, Ja’tar noticed that Zedd’aki was beginning to act a little strange.
“I didn’t expect the source of the glamour to be inside the Keep, did you,” Ja’tar asked.
Zedd’aki looked at him, “I’m not sure what you are talking about. What source was that you mentioned?”
“Are you alright?” he asked his friend.
“I suppose I’m fine, but I don’t remember why we’re here,” Zedd’aki said, slightly bewildered. “I vaguely remember walking here, then sitting by the fire and then climbing up and down a mountain to look at the Keep. But for the life of me I can’t recall anything we talked about.”
Ja’tar consoled his friend, “Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything once we get back to the Keep.”
“Have we been out long?”
“Most of the night,” Ja’tar said, looking at the fading Ocht’or moon.
“Funny! I don’t remember much of the night at all. Did I slip and fall?” Zedd’aki asked, with a quizzical look on his face as he checked his head and pushed a finger through a sizable tear in his robe.
“No, you’re fine.” Ja’tar said, resting a hand on his friends back. “You’re under the glamour.”
Zedd’aki remembered, “That’s right, we came out here to get away from the spell. How did we do?”
“We ... you did great. You got me out from under part of it, now I can remember, but I still can’t access the old magic,” Ja’tar said excitedly. “Unfortunately, I’m not able to untangle the spell, it’s too delicate.”
“That is unfortunate,” Zedd’aki mumbled. “I want to be able to remember too.”
“You
will. Soon!” Ja’tar promised. “But on the bright side, you left yourself a couple pages of notes. I’ll let you read them once we get back to the Keep.”
Zedd’aki cracked a thin smile before taking another painful step. “My feet are killing me. What the Ten did we do, pound them with rocks?”
Ja’tar leaned heavily on his staff. He was tired and sore from the extreme level of effort it took for him to climb the mountain and now his calves were starting to cramp. He wished he could heal himself, but he knew that it wouldn’t do much good. Healing didn’t work that way. You could fix bones and mend cuts and such, but bone weariness just had to be fixed the old-fashioned way, a hot bath, wine and a long rest.
“Something like that,” he murmured.
They crested the hill and Ja’tar looked out over the Keep. In the far distance, the storm in the mountains raged on. They paused for a minute to take a drink of wine and rest before they began the final leg of their journey.
“I feel bone tired,” Zedd’aki complained. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. This body hasn’t had much exercise over the last few decades!”
“Me too!” Ja’tar chuckled. “I think the climb did us in.”
Zedd’aki grumbled, “Climb? I don’t remember much of any climb, but I’ll take your word for it. I’m surprised you agreed.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well Ja’tar, quite frankly—you’re not one for getting out and taking risks, and climbing up a cliff wall in the dark sounds more than a little risky to me. Your need must have been great for you to agree.”
“If it helps any, it was your idea!”
Zedd’aki snorted.
Ja’tar could remember everything; at least he thought he remembered remembering everything. He smiled to himself because at a minimum he would be able to plan with a clear head. He had Zedd’aki to thank. Even though he couldn’t remove all of the glamour, he at least accomplished removing enough to allow him to recall the night, and with a clear head, he could analyze and plan.
The Third Sign Page 19
