Chapter Four: The Hourglass

Nimue would have thought that, with the attack on the village, the king would have moved quickly to do something. She wasn’t prepared for the weeks of endless deliberation it took for them to come to a decision. A king who ignores the concerns of his people in such matters, Merlin had told her, was merely a heedless tyrant. I would think the people would be concerned about being attack again, Nimue thought, scowling. But then, people do tend to focus on the things that matter the least. And from what she’d seen of nobles, they were worse than everyone else.

It might not have been so unbearable, if it wasn’t for Sebille. Merlin left her in Nimue’s care, which wasn’t so bad for the first week, while she was pretty much out of it. And then she began feeling better. For a village girl Sebille was astonishingly spoiled and demanding. She refused to get out of bed unless she absolutely had to. The only thing that had kept her from demanding Nimue’s help in bathing had been Merlin’s firm refusal. He’d gotten a maid for that much, at least, but poor Nimue was left to fetch the woman food, tea, clean clothing, books, and whatsoever else she desire.

Nimue would have thought that after the first couple of weeks that Merlin would have agreed with her when she complained. However, he’d been acting rather…strange, lately. Whenever he was around Sebille he seemed to completely forget that Nimue existed. He’s so kind and courteous to her, she thought, it makes me want to be sick. Not that she would normally begrudge someone in Sebille’s position, but something about the woman rubbed her the wrong way.

“Nimial!”

She groaned. Dragging herself off the windowsill, she headed into Sebille’s room. Oh dear, Nimue thought, coming to an abrupt halt in the doorway. I wish she wouldn’t do that. She turned her back on Sebille, who wasn’t finished dressing yet. That damned woman, she thought, does that constantly! And Merlin didn’t believe her about it, either. Maybe he was distracted with this whole thing, debating what they were going to do about the barbarians. Yet somehow Nimue felt that this was something much worse than that.

“You’re so shy, Nim, Sebille teased. The only time she was ever remotely nice was when she was teasing. It’s all right…you can turn around now.”

Nimue turned slowly; Sebille had tricked her this way before. You should be more careful, she said, when she faced the other woman. What if it wasn’t me who came in here?”

“I’m not worried, Sebille said, smiling. I’m sure you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

For a woman who was supposedly raped, Nimue thought, she is way too interested in seducing every man in sight! It just didn’t sit well with her in the least. And every time she resisted Sebille’s advances, the woman got angry. It was like she was so certain that Nimue wouldn’t be able to resist and when she did, it turned her world upside down. Of course, Nimue thought, maybe it’s because she thinks I’m a man.

“I’ll go get you something to break your fast, Nimue said, starting to turn away.

“Wait, Nim! Sebille grabbed her arm, halting her in her steps. Do you know when Master Merlin will return?”

Nimue frowned. No, I don’t, she said coolly. Please release me.”

“Oh, don’t be so cold, Nim, Sebille pouted. I’m only trying to be friendly.”

Why in God’s name can’t Merlin see this? Nimue wondered, as she tried to figure out what to do. As much as she would love to just push the woman away as hard as she could, Merlin would be furious with her. Already they were hardly speaking to each other, and then only to argue. I hate her, Nimue thought, jerking her head back as Sebille made as if to kiss her. I hate her so much! All her frustration boiled over and despite her better judgement, she shoved the woman away from her, sending her stumbling back onto the bed.

Nimue had noticed the bit of leather thong around the woman’s neck before, but she hadn’t paid it much attention until now. Jostled from beneath her blouse, the leather dangled a pendant the likes of which Nimue had never seen before. It was a miniature hourglass, the sands within glinting silver despite the faint green dye to the glass. It was capped both ends in gold and although she couldn’t be certain from a distance, she thought there was some kind of writing inscribed therein. Sebille grabbed hold of the pendant, pushing it back beneath her blouse to hide it from view.

“What is that? Nimue demanded, taking a step towards her.

Sebille’s eyes narrowed. None of your business, boy! she snapped. Go away! Now!”

“I want to know what that is! Nimue shouted, taking another step forward. It’s some kind of charm, isn’t it?”

“How? Sebille asked, blanching. Her eyes widened in disbelief. You shouldn’t be able to even see it!”

Nimue pounced like a wildcat. Shock, Sebille let out a shriek and flung her hands up, trying to ward her off. The woman was surprisingly strong, and fought like a cornered beast, clawing at Nimue’s arms. I will see what that is! she thought fiercely, knocking aside Sebille’s arm. I will! Sebille’s other hand opened deep furrows in her arm. Nimue ignored them. She was positive that whatever that thing was, it was what was causing Merlin to behave so strangely.



It’s not proper for a wizard to slouch, Merlin reminded himself, for what felt like the thousandth time that day alone. Nor is it proper for a wizard to yawn, blink too much, or rest his head in his hands. Not that he didn’t want to. While he agreed with Arthur’s policy of holding a council with as many of his nobles as possible before making big decisions, it didn’t mean it was any less…well, boring. Worse, Merlin wasn’t exactly getting a lot of sleep these days.

It was bad enough that he had to be by Arthur’s side constantly. Whenever he went back to his rooms to sleep, eat, or check up on Sebille, Nimial got on his case. For some reason the boy was absolutely convinced that Sebille was not who she seemed. Probably just feels like he’s being pushed out of his spot, Merlin thought, sighing inwardly. I guess I can’t blame the boy, but I wish he’d give it a rest. Himself, he’d seen nothing about Sebille to warrant such suspicions. She was as sweet a woman as he had ever met.

“Merlin believes that…Merlin? Arthur cleared his throat softly.

Melin coughed, chagrinned. Ah…forgive me, my liege. It’s been a very long day.”

“Indeed, Arthur said, fighting back a smile. As I was saying, good lords and gentle ladies, Merlin believes that if we do not make a stand against these barbarians, they will simply continue to attack us.”

Near the far end of the room, a young noblewoman lifted her head, making as if to speak. Merlin recognized Sharlie Menoit, the daughter of a merchant who had risen above his station. It was a rare thing indeed to see a woman in such a position. She came because her father was too ill to leave his bed, and Arthur was not the type to deny her the right to speak. The small holdings her family owned were closer to the moors than the homes of most of these other nobles, anyway.

“Speak, my lady, Arthur said, smiling gently in her direction. Please.”

“Thank you, your grace, Sharlie said softly. She never spoke loudly, but her voice always held clarity and strength. Normally, I would agree with my peers that risking a war, at this time, would not be wise. However…the people on the borders suffer, your grace.”

Arthur nodded. That is my point precisely, my lady, he said.

Here we go again, Merlin thought, trying not to groan. Arthur was far from being a war-like king. He went into battle only when absolutely necessary. And yet still his nobles quibbled, concerned about what would happen to them, to their lands, and—every now and then—their people. Enough is enough, Merlin thought, rising to his feet and cutting off the speech of some pompous, overweight nobleman whose name he could never remember. Huxley or Henry or something like that.

“Forgive me, my lords and ladies, Merlin said, dipping his head. He did not bow to nobles—ever. I don’t wish you to think me hasty, but I am of a mind that something must be done expeditiously. Another raid like the one we suffered that night, several weeks gone, would be tragic. He paused a moment, allowing that to sink in. Sometimes the nobles had trouble if he used words that were too large. His grace, your king, would have you rest assured that we will put a swift end to this threat, with little cost to yourselves.”

They liked that part, at least. Of course, there was no guarantee they could keep such a promise, but they’d handled these barbarians easily enough before. Merlin was more concerned with their Shamans, yet none of them had made an appearance in years. He was beginning to think he had finally rid the world of all of them. Shamans were not usually, in his experience, people who brought ill to others. But the ones on the moors had twisted their practices over the centuries. Merlin had made it his own personal responsibility to stop them when needs be.

He listened, trying not to become distracted, as the nobles continued to deliberate, but by the end of the council they’d reached what constituted as a conclusion. Arthur, Merlin, the Knights of the Round Table, and a host of three-hundred would make for the border at the end of the week. The people of the moors were generally at odds with themselves as well as Camelot, and it was rare that a particularly large group of them got together. Still, for all of that Merlin found himself wishing he’d begun Nimial’s true training. As it was, he couldn’t even figure out how to explain to the boy.

“I was beginning to think they would never listen, Arthur sighed, when the council chamber was cleared at last. What manner of spell did you work on them this time?”

“None, actually, Merlin told him, smiling slightly. They were reaching this point already on their own. I think they were just waiting for us to absolve them of any responsibility.”

“I should have told her to keep the blasted sword, Arthur grumbled. Yet his hand rested possessively on Excalibur’s hilt as he spoke. Go on, then. I need some time alone to think.”

Merlin rose. He’d been sitting so long that there were aches in his lower back and neck. Maybe I’m getting old, he thought wryly, as he made his way back to his rooms. Maybe I’ve been getting old. The halls were quiet. As hard as it was to believe, the council had carried through the night. At least I’m in time for breakfast, Merlin thought, climbing the stairs to his rooms. Hopefully Nim will have some tea ready. The boy was good about those things.

Muffled sounds reached his ears through the door. Frowning, Merlin opened the door quickly. The sounds turned to scuffling and shrieking, coming from Sebille’s room.

“Let go, damn you!”

For a moment he hesitated; the voice had been female, but it didn’t sound like Sebille’s. It was followed by another screech. Merlin pushed the door open roughly, sending it back against the wall with a resounding slam. What he saw brought him to a halt. Nimial had Sebille pinned down on the floor. They were of a size and while he would have thought Nimial the stronger, Sebille had a good, firm grip on the boy’s hair. It was the fact that the boy was making a grab for the top of Sebille’s blouse that stunned Merlin. He would never have thought Nim the type.

Something flickered in the back of his conciousness, something that made the room waver around him. For a moment he got the vague sense that something was amiss, and then it was gone. Yet still there was a bit of regret in him as he raised his hand. Merlin didn’t so much as make a gesture—he didn’t need to, for this—and Nimial was thrown across the room, hitting the wall opposite a bit harder than he had intended. He went first to Sebille, helped her to sit up. Her left hand was covered in blood, and he realized that it was Nim’s.

The boy was hunched against the wall, dazed. Once Merlin was sure Sebille was all right, he went for the boy. Grabbing Nim by the front of his tunic, he lifted him up and hauled him out of the room. The boy allowed himself to be dragged, making only a small squeak of protest as he was shoved roughly into his room. Nimial staggered over to the bed and sat down, holding his hand against a thin trickle of blood down the side of his face. Merlin paused before him, so enraged that he couldn’t speak.

“It…it wasn’t what you think Nimial said quietly. She…she has this necklace, Master

Merlin scowled. I didn’t see any necklace, Nim. I’m sure you know exactly what I saw.”

“But…but you had to have seen it! Nimial protested, looking up. The boy’s face was paler than usual. You had to have! Please, I swear it’s the truth!”

“Enough! Merlin growled. Enough foolish excuses! Pack your things, Nimial. I want you gone within the hour.”

He left the room then, pulling the door firmly closed behind him. Merlin paused outside the door, blinking as a wave of dizziness overcame him. I’m tired, he thought, and hungry. That’s all it is. So why was there a burgeoning fear in the pit of his stomach? He sat down near the hearth and dropped his head into his hands, trying to think clearly. Maybe I was too hard on the boy, Merlin thought. This just doesn’t seem right…Nim is so shy. Yet he couldn’t get his mind around what, precisely, was wrong.

“Master Merlin?”

He looked up. Well, it was certainly true that Sebille was very pretty. Only a few yellowed bruises marred the exotic, porcelain perfection of her face, which was framed by dark brown curls. She had big, lovely brown eyes and a full, luscious mouth. Maybe she’s a bit too pretty, Merlin thought, a sense of unease flooding him. Maybe Then she smiled, an unbelievably sweet smile, and he forgot all of that. She took a seat across from him, tucking her skirts primly beneath her.

“Please don't be angry with Nim, she began, startling him.

Merlin’s eyebrows rose. Sebille

“Really, Merlin, Sebille said, smiling reassuringly. I’m certain this whole thing is a misunderstanding. The boy…well, he…he seems to be having hallucinations of late, I believe.”

Merlin frowned thoughtfully. It was true, when he was just a boy, that he had experienced some strange things before he’d learned of his ability to use magic. Not full on hallucinations—usually just small flickers at the corner of his eye—but it was most certainly possible. He’d never seen anyone provoked to that sort of violence, either, but he hadn’t met so many people with the ability that it should seem abnormal. And Merlin had been a good deal younger than Nimial when he began to learn how to use his magic.

“You say this sort of thing has happened before? Merlin asked.

“Not…not quite like this, Sebille admitted. But Nim is a good boy…he’s taken such good care of me, honestly. He’s done everything I’ve asked of him. What happened just now…it was almost like he was having a nightmare. I don’t believe he realized that it was me he was fighting with.”

A nightmare, Merlin thought, or a vision, perhaps? That seemed like a very likely possibility. The boy had claimed to see a necklace of some sort, but there was not so much as a scrap of string around Sebille’s neck. Maybe it has something to do with our fight against the barbarians, he thought. Could he have seen a Shaman’s trinket? Well, Sebille seemed convinced, and there was no reason he could see for her to protect the boy. Merlin rose from his chair and smiled down at her.

“Thank you, Sebille, he said. I’d hate to lose my page for a simple misunderstanding.”

“I’m glad I could help, Master Merlin, Sebille said, rising as well. And…please extend my apologies to Nim for what I did to his arm. I believe I frightened him, which only made the situation worse.”

She has to be the kindest, most reasonable woman I have ever met, Merlin thought, watching Sebille disappear into her room. Too bad there aren’t more like her. Another wave of dizziness took him. He would have to clear up this thing with Nimial quickly, then get himself something to eat and finally, some rest. Merlin had no desire to get ill, now that they were finally going to do something productive.



Nimue tried hard not to cry. Men did not cry, and she was supposed to be one. But as she stood in the middle of her room, blinking away the tears and realizing that very little of what she had was truly hers, she felt an overwhelming sense of despair. Why didn’t he believe me? she wondered. And why couldn’t he see that necklace? I know it was real! It wasn’t just some strangeness, like the night of the attack. Nimue had felt the smooth glass beneath her fingertips at one point.

A soft knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. He said I have an hour! she thought desperately. I…I can hardly even think enough to leave! Her head was aching, especially where her skin had split open from her impact with the wall. Nimue had no intention of answering that knocking, but the door opened anyway. She turned away and bit down hard on her lower lip. There was no way she was going to cry, especially not in front of him.

“You aren’t going to make this easy on me, I see, Merlin said, his voice slightly dry. Ah, Nim…Sebille explained it to me

Nimue swung around, almost too fast, nearly falling over. Explained what?”

“She says you’ve been having hallucinations, Merlin told her. Have you been ill at all, boy?”

She…she…what? Nimue thought, unable to do anything other than stare. Just what is she playing at? And why couldn’t Merlin see it? With all his power, he should have no trouble realizing that something was wrong. Certainly, if nothing else, he should have seen through Sebille’s flimsy story and unrealistic behavior. But he hasn’t, Nimue thought, and until I figure out what’s wrong, I can’t risk him sending me away. Merlin had done her a great kindness, after all; she couldn’t simply leave when she knew, inexplicable though it might be, that he was in danger.

“I…I uh…yeah, um, I’ve been feeling a little off, actually, Nimue stammered, lifting a hand to her head. She winced; that was the arm Sebille had torn apart. Really, so much has been happening lately…Honestly, Master, I would never have hurt her.”

“Perhaps you should stay home and rest when we ride to the moors, Merlin said, his expression pensive. It may be you’re too overtired and stressed

“No! Nimue protested. She flushed when he raised his eyebrows at her. No, Master, I think…I think getting out will do me a world of good, truly. Even with training I’m indoors so much…I’m a country la…lad, you know. I need um…some place open

Merlin chuckled. A lot like me at your age, he said, reaching over and ruffling her hair. Maybe you’re right. Well, we ought to get you patched up, then.”

Merlin turned towards the door. He hesitated a moment, turning back to her as if he wanted to say something. Whatever it was, he decided against it. Nimue followed him out into the common room and sat down near the hearth while he retrieved his medicine pouch. What ever it is she’s doing, she thought, staring at Sebille’s door, I can use it to my advantage. For some reason the woman wanted her around, obviously. And Merlin seemed convinced of everything she said, although Nimue couldn’t fathom why. She was determined, however, to get to the bottom of this.