Merlin's Clock

Lord Trophimus and his soldiers walked through the ruinous castle. They had all been exploring the enormous vestibule with its ancient statues covered with vines and moss.

Trophimus called the captain of the guard. “Crispus, the map to the relic stops at the interior of the castle.”

“I still do not know how we are to find something so small in this vast labyrinth,” said Crispus.

“I would expect it to be in a vault or something. Light the torches. We are entering the ruins.”

Ten soldiers and Trophimus lit their torches and went through an archway. Pillars held up a ceiling two-dozen yards high. Every surface was cracked.

“Magnificent!” said Crispus.

“Look out for anything suspicious.”

Crispus pointed. “Look there! A golden door with a dragon’s mouth encrusted! That is where I would put a magic relic if I was a wizard.”

“But is most likely locked,” said Trophimus. He then tried pushing and pulling on the door handle. “Hmm…That is curious.”

“What is it?” asked a soldier named Nithose.

“There is no keyhole.”

Trophimus looked closely at the map and noticed small writing. “There is fine writing on the map in the language of Pyrithia.” Trophimus spoke it and the sound of squeaking metal echoed as the golden door opened.

“A magical incantation!” said Nithose.

Beyond the door was a staircase leading downward.

“Single file everyone,” said Trophimus. The man led the procession, and, in a few minutes, their breath was taken away. A chamber filled with treasures was from wall to wall.

Their eyes studied all corners of the chamber.

That is when Crispus saw it. On a silver pedestal in the center of the room was a small golden clock. “Merlin’s Clock! It must be!”

Trophimus picked up the item. “If this is as powerful as legends say, we must be very careful.” He put it in a leather satchel.

Trophimus and the soldiers retraced their steps and soon met the outskirts of the old keep and were on their way to the kingdom of Aderath. An hour later, they arrived.

Trophimus took the clock to king Grithin. A glass case covered the hour and minute hands. Grithin opened it and suddenly voice came from the clock and it began to glow.

“To he who has found my talisman, I Merlin, have cast a spell that will grant one to hasten time. I warn you, use it with wisdom. Farewell!”

King Grithin grew curious. He whimsically took the hour hand and put it six hours into the future. Suddenly everyone started to move rapidly like a flicker of lightning. Then it stopped.

The king was now standing in an empty throne room. He exited the chamber and everyone gasped. “My, Lord!” said Trophimus. “You just disappeared along with the clock! It must have worked.”

“I have an idea on how to use the clock. If this causes a person to disappear and reappear in the future, I could use this to infiltrate our ancient enemy of the kingdom of Nimbus. Organize a battalion! We march tonight! Lord, Trophimus, you will us the power of the clock to end King Thron.”

Trophimus led the troop to the beginning threshold of the kingdom of Nimbus and went on until guards saw them. Trophimus’s troop took out the guards and soon the soldiers met them.

“Everyone! Retreat!” said Trophimus. Next, he used the clock and moved the hour hand six hours ahead. Time accelerated and figures flashed back and forth. Six hours into the future, time stopped to the present. He was alone in the night.

He walked into the castle and saw the wooden double doors and knocked. He moved the second hand ten seconds ahead and time quickened and he saw two guards come out then turn around. As they did, time came to the present and he trailed the guards just as they had turned their backs.

Thron, the king of Nimbus, cried out. “What is with you, guards! An intruder stands in my chamber!”

Trophimus turned the hour hand one hour further. It would appear to Thron that Trophimus had vanished as he hastened through time. When one hour passed, Trophimus was in the present with four guards as he held out a dagger and put it to Thron’s throat.

“He appeared out of thin air! Lord Thron. It must be a spirit…or a sorcerer!” said one of the guards.

“Please don’t kill me, whatever you are!”

“This is wrong,” Trophimus said to himself. He took the dagger way from Thron’s throat. “In the name of King Grithin, I implore you to make peace with the kingdom of Aderath.”

Thron nodded his head. “I will, mysterious one.”

“Keep your word, good king,” said Trophimus. He set the clock eight hours into the future and as things sped rapidly by, he made his way to the exit and reappeared in the morning in the wilderness, about a mile away from Aderath.

When he arrived, he told the King Grithin of his decision not to kill Thron. Grithin was mad, but after a few hours, he too was convicted.

That day, a wagon filled with gold, silver, spice, jewels and works of art arrived at Aderath with a petition of peace.

King Grithin smiled warmly and accepted the gift and he himself went to Nimbus to organize a peace feast in Aderath.

When king Grithin made it to Nimbus, Thron himself met King Grithin, and they shook each other by the forearm.

“Your wizard could have killed me. Your mercy is appreciated.”

“I do not have a wizard. I assume you have heard of the legend of Merlin’s Clock?”

“Of course. You found it! Well, I’ll be!”

“Trophimus, show him.”

The nobleman walked towards Thron. Suddenly, he stumbled on loose footing, and he fell to the ground and the clock was broken.

“Ahh…my ankle!” cried Trophimus. “I am sorry lord!”

“Blast it! Don’t worry. It served its purpose. Now let’s take care of that ankle.”