Chapter 5

"What you have to understand, lad," Merlin said, "is that I had been alone for quite a long time from a human standpoint, with no hope of ever seeing another human face again. There was no need to talk, for there was no one to talk to. Instead, I read - history, literature, fiction... whatever the text, I devoured it from beginning to end, absorbing vast amounts of knowledge in the years that passed without number. Therefore, when Olympias appeared to emerge from the sea without any mode of transport save her own legs, I thought that I had at last succumbed to the insanity that I had always feared would claim me.

"She was not a beauty in any objective sense; not tall, but not short; not fat but not thin; not well-endowed, but not flat-chested. She had olive skin, and iridescent eyes that glittered in the right light, but her nose was too flat, her chin too firm and wide for her to be labeled beautiful. Yet, had she stood among a hundred other women, she would have shone brightest among them. It was not her looks that set her apart, but her bearing, her manner. She was, to sum everything to one word, regal.

"And yet, as she sat drinking my tea in the kitchen of my home, she was not cold or distant, not aloof or haughty. She was quiet, but that was the awkwardness of trying to find some place to start a conversation; she smiled and complimented my tea, and declined my offer of something to eat, as if she knew that there was very little in the larder that could be considered a suitable companion to afternoon tea. I looked at her in somewhat fuddled amazement, and she looked back as composed and calm as if we were longtime friends doing something completely routine. Yet still, she didn't speak.

""Who are you? Where did you come from? Is anyone else still alive there?" The words came pouring from my mouth like the fire comes to the dry brush in the dry summer. She smiled at me, amused, and then began speaking with a distinctly non-English accent.

""There is no one left alive anywhere on this planet save you, dear Merlin; had there been, I likely would not be here now. You are the last human born on this planet, perhaps the last that will ever be born here. As such, you are the last to whom I may give the gift that has been entrusted to me. More to the point, you have a destiny to fulfill, one that you do not know about, but one which I have waited hundreds of years to bring to you. I shall tell you about that before too long.

""As for me, my name is Olympias, queen of Macedonia, wife to Phillip II, queen mother to Alexander the Great." Seeing my jaw drop even further, she laughed, a rather harsh sound to be sure. "You look at me and wonder how such a thing could be, that I could come to you still young had I been alive before the birth of Jesus all those centuries ago? The answer is simple... my son cursed me to live through the centuries as caretaker to this..." she held out her left fist, palm up, and let her fingers uncurl. Inside was a ring..." he held up his own left hand, indicating the ring of Solomon "... this ring.

"Olympias looked at me in silence for a moment, as if contemplating where to start unraveling something complicated. Apparently, she decided to start from the beginning.

""In the days after my marriage to Phillip, I began gathering to me the avatars of the metaphysical world... witches, sorcerers, psychics... those that could divine for me not only the future for myself, but for the heir that I intended to produce for Phillip's throne. In the midst of all those I called to my chambers came one from the heart of the desert of Africa. He had uncovered, in the ruins of a temple that bore Solomon's name, a scroll... and a ring. He had thought to bring it to the religious scholars of the East, but, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how far he set his course by the daily rising of the sun, he found himself traveling north.

""It was only when he reached the Mediterranean Sea that he encountered a Macedonian trading ship bound for home, and he was captured by those men and brought in bondage to Phillip's court. Hearing of my search for divinity for my son, he begged for an audience with me, and soon had me convinced that the ring might have belonged to Solomon himself... and that the scroll was the key.

""But he had buried the scroll and the ring near the shore where he was captured, before he encountered the ship. With Phillip away on yet another mission to conquer the rest of Greece, I used the power of the throne to send the same merchant ship back to shore of Africa, to search out and bring to me the ring. The dark skinned man of the desert went with them, saying he would unearth the treasure I wanted, if they would allow him to return to his home. I told the captain of the ship that, should he keep his bargain, the man should be freed..." here, Olympias' lips twisted into a cruel grin "... then killed before he could ever breathe word of the ring to a soul.

""Six months passed, until finally the merchant ship returned from its mission, and the captain called upon me privately in my chambers at the palace. The captain knelt before me and presented both the ring and the dusty, tattered scroll to me. I thanked him and promised him great reward and the favor of the king." Again, she smiled cruelly. "Within the week, he and his crew were charged with high treason and collaborating with the enemy, and were summarily executed. And I only had to pay such a little money to have the evidence of their "treason" snuck onto their boat as they drunkenly celebrated the 'favor of the king.'" She laughed, a cold, hard sound that matched the winter in her eyes.

""I took the ring and the scroll to the witches I had brought to Pella to advise me on the future of myself and my son. In turn, they took the scroll to one of the scholars of the Talmud who lived by trading and lending money to the sailors at the docks. The translation was slow, but gradually the scroll emerged as the writing of Solomon himself. In it, he described how he had used the ring to glorify his God, and to complete the temple as God had commanded him. Having bent the demon's to his will with the ring, he placed it and the scroll inside the temple, never again using or even touching it until the end of his life.

""Though the translation offered no instruction on a way I could use the ring, the witches saw that, by using the dark arts of their kind, they could summon a demon known to have been in the ring's power... the one known as Ornias. And, once they had summoned it, they thought that it could give them the key to unlock the ring's power.

""Their summoning was successful, but for months, Ornias refused their entreaties to give them a way to bind the power of the ring to a human other than Solomon. Finally, in desperation, I went to the dark cavern where the witches chanted while Ornias hissed and screeched to be dismissed from their imprisonment. I walked up to the mystical chamber in which it was imprisoned, and yelled into its face "What do you want? What will make you give me what I want?" It stopped screeching, and faced me directly, standing to its full height inside its trap. "What do I want?" it asked menacingly. "I will release the power of the ring to you, or to the one you wish to have it, but only for a price you will never pay.

"""I want you." And it shrieked with laughter as I turned away, enraged, with no intention of granting its wish.

""But, as the days passed, Phillip grew closer to winning his campaign to unite Greece under his rule, and I knew that when he returned, he would desire me to join him making his son and heir. So, as that day approached, I again returned to the cavern, and began to dicker with the demon as to what agreement we might reach.

""In the end, the bargain we struck was as hard fought as the war Phillip had just won, and it would cost me as dearly individually as it had cost his men in blood and effort. The demon would have me, but would not have use of me in its demon form. Instead, it could inhabit the body of another mortal, and use me until its desire was satisfied. If even this was too close to it for my own security, I could also inhabit the body of another, though it would be one of the demon's choosing. And, there would be one final condition - it could not have me until I had watched my son fulfill his destiny as king and ruler of an empire... or, should it come to that, until after I had seen my son die.

""The bargain struck, I used a sacrificial blade held by one of the witches to prick my finger, and watched as one drop fell from its tip into the circle which held Ornias at bay. The demon caught it before it touched the floor, and, using it as ink, affixed its symbol to the contract that would bind us together once my son's destiny was fulfilled. Then, saying only "It is done," the demon disappeared in a thunderclap, leaving behind only the contract... and the ring.

""I left the cavern behind quickly, leaving my bodyguards to complete the assignment I had given them; no wagging tongue could be left behind to tell of my deal with the demon, which meant that all of the witches had to die. Their screams and curses chased me to my horse, which I rode at a mad pace back to the palace. Once there, I hid the ring in a secret place, a slight hollow underneath a brick in the floor of my chambers. There, the ring was to sit until I presented it to Alexander on his 12^th birthday, after which he tamed the stallion Bucephalus, the horse he rode even to his dying day. I told him the same things that Ornias had told me about summoning the demons controlled by the ring, and as he grew, so did his control of the demon horde. Finally, he began to send the off to do his bidding as he chased his destiny across Europe, Africa, and Asia. He fulfilled virtually every wish I had ever had for him... except one.

""He died before he could ever stop to enjoy the fruits of his conquests, to relish the role of empire builder and legend. To sit on the throne of his father and know that he had conquered parts of three continents, and to make plans anew to conquer more. In that way, my dreams of his destiny were dashed when I realized that the power of his ring could not save his life.

""Then, he called me into his tent, just moments before his death. And, putting the ring in my hands, he told me that I had given it to him to because I had planned his destiny, pushed him into it without choice or voice of his own. And the ring had only kept him on the path that I had chosen for him, pushing him forward by giving him victories he did not deserve, conquests he could not have achieved without some aid from the demons of the ring. In his heart, he blamed me for how he was dying... having used all the power at his disposal to further my grandiose dreams, and having none left to heal himself.

""But, he still had some control over the ring, and, using it one final time, he bound my destiny to it, making me its keeper. I can never wield its power, but I can give it to those who I feel can use it to fulfill a greater destiny within themselves. I can never die, for the ring cannot be destroyed, and I will exist as long as it does. I am alive, but with no need for food to stay that way. I can change my appearance in an instant, to better survive or fulfill my purpose as ring-giver, but I will never age in body beyond where I was that day my son died in Babylon."

""But there is one more thing." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The demon Ornias was enraged by Alexander's last action, but could not claim me while I held the ring in my possession. Our agreement said it could claim me once Alexander's destiny was fulfilled, and as long as I held the ring, that destiny could not be finished.

""However, whenever I gave up the ring, that gave Ornias power over me. Once it rested securely on the finger of another, my body would fade, and I would find myself in someone else's body, at the cruel command of some man who Ornias had taken possession of. And he would use me again and again, day and night, until the destiny of the ring wielder had been fulfilled, and the ring came back to me again.

""But that brings me back to why I am here. Even though you are the last man left alive on Earth, I do not have to give the ring to you. I imagine that, if I did not, you would die and I would be left on this planet, alone, until another human being dropped from the stars and I decided whether his destiny was somehow intertwined with my own.

""However, while that could happen, there is one last thing that must be said, so perhaps you can understand why I am standing before you now. You see... you and I have met before. In the year 637 A.D.

""In the court of King Arthur."

"And, that, lad, is when my jaw finally hit the floor."

Leaving Matilda and the two will-repressed men to their fun and games, I turned toward the dining room... and saw, just before I completed my turn, a slight movement. Reaching out with my mind, I felt a presence there, one that desired to quickly return to the dungeon before I noticed him. With virtually no effort, I reached into his mind and locked his muscles, so that his flight from me was arrested mid-stride. The resulting "Thump!" that reached my ears was explained seconds later when, rounding the corner, I spied a man lying in a heap next to the countertop that separated the dining room from the kitchen.

"Steven! Fancy meeting you here!" I said to the paralyzed body, legs still cocked as if to take a step forward.

By my way of thinking, Steven Howard was my Public Enemy Number One. From the first time Sara had brought me to this house, he had been cold and distant, and over a few months, that distance had had turned to contempt and hatred... and I really couldn't understand why. I had politely rebuffed his few invitations to top him in the dungeon, but I had done that with everyone else, since Sara was the only one I had ever planned to play with inside this house. No one else took it as the personal affront Steven did, and I often wondered if the love Sara and I displayed openly only made Steven's peevishness grow more quickly.

Of course, when Sara made it known that she and I were through, no one took more happiness in the announcement than Steven. But all the venom he apparently had for me became apparent in what had happened two months before... at the last monthly meeting I had come to before this one.

Sara and I had been broken up for a month at that point. I had skipped the meeting before that, still too wrapped up in my own misery to even wish to be around anyone. But, perhaps seeking one of those Cheers moments, hoping I would walk in the door and everyone would shout "Daniel!" in hearty bonhomie, I had driven to Gerry's home and walked into the living room as usual.

I could have heard crickets chirping, had there been any in the room. The feeling of having 12 people suddenly drop dead silent when you walk in the room, staring at you like you've just dropped the f-bomb in the Queen's presence... well, I should have turned around and left.

But I didn't.

I smiled bravely, paid my meeting dues and signed in as normal... and was thusly ignored by all present. Even Sam kept his distance, though I did see some stirrings of sympathy in his eyes, on the few occasions he made eye contact with me. It was as if everyone had gathered for my wake, but I, the corpse, had had the indecency to show up alive.

Like Iago watching the downfall of Othello, Steven reveled in my discomfiture. I'm sure if he had thought of it, he'd have rubbed his hands together with glee, the villain seeing his evil plot coming to fruition. But even then, he wasn't quite finished. As I sat pondering the depths of a plastic cup full of Diet Coke, he walked up to me, and stood as if posing for a picture, hands on hips and standing at his full height. It was only later that I realized his stance blocked me from the rest of the room, so no one could see me fully... could see what, if anything, I did in reaction to what he said.

I continued staring into my cup, ignoring him. I suppose this must've infuriated him a bit, since he wanted a confrontation with me - something I didn't know then, but which made itself apparent quite quickly. As I stared at the bubbles that occasionally broke the surface of my soda, something white and gooey dropped into the cup from above. I looked up, just in time to see Steven sucking a line of saliva back into his mouth.

He had spit in my drink. He had deliberately spit in my drink!

His sneer on his lips and the set of his eyes both held the same unspoken message: 'What are you going to do about it?'

As I said, I should have left, just got up and got gone. But, perhaps more in amazement than anything, I simply sat there looking at him, wondering dumbly what the hell had gotten into him. And, when it became apparent that I wasn't going to make any move, either to get away from him or in payback for his insult, he made his grand gesture, his Edward-Norton-gets-fired-in- Fight-Club play.

He reached up to his nose and, taking it between thumb and forefinger, twisted it. As I stared, a rivulet of blood came running down his nostril, pooling on the tip. Satisfied with the result, he suddenly hunched over, and in a loud, harsh voice that sounded nothing like his own he uttered one word.

"Faggot!"

Then, having guaranteed that every eye in the living room would be turning toward him, he jumped backward, crashing into a coffee table, flipping over it, and winding up on his back between the table and a couch.

Everyone froze, as if waiting for something more to happen. Their eyes locked on Steven, who lay still on the floor. Then, they all turned their heads toward me.

My eyes were still riveted on Steven. From my angle, I could see his face clearly, framed by the legs of the table. He turned his head toward me... and I'll be damned if he didn't grin at me, the grin of a man who, running toward a soccer ball on a penalty kick, is sending a message to the goalie: 'You don't know it yet, but you've already lost.'

Then he began moaning piteously, blood smeared around his nose and mouth.

I don't remember getting to my feet, but I was about three steps across the rug toward him when Sam and Richard stepped in front of me, blocking my path. As others rushed to help Steven, they kept me from going any further forward, though I really had no intention of doing anything other than seeing what Steven was about with his vicious little charade.

I'll give him this: if they gave Oscars for best performance by a lying little weasel, he would've been a shoo-in. He simpered and wailed, tears streaking the blood on his face. He pointed at me and told of how he had only tried to start a conversation, to offer me comfort, and I had slapped him across the face, and then shoved him into the table. He drew on the sympathies of all present as the aggrieved party who'd done nothing to deserve such treatment... especially since I was now sans Sara, and could be considered an outsider, an interloper.

As he carried on, Sam looked at me and shook my head. Just loud enough to be heard, he whispered, "He's been running you down to everyone since last month, Daniel. He's even extracted a promise from Gerry that, if you caused any type of scene or disruption, you'd be kicked out and not invited back. And now..." his voice trailed off into silence as he looked back toward Steven, who was now propped up on the couch, sucking up the sympathy of those gathered around him.

Things moved quite quickly after that. Gerry, not wanting to take all the responsibility on himself, called for a vote on banishing me from the club. When asked to raise their hands if voting yes, only two hands didn't go up: Sam's and Richard's. Less than a minute later I was out in the driveway, with the admonishment not to come back. As I looked back at the house on that evening, I saw Steven looking out the window at me, grinning a victory grin. As I walked to my car across the street, I cursed about what had happened, and I cursed Steven's petty little game... but I had no illusions about returning to a place where I obviously wasn't wanted.

But now, Steven lay before me unmoving, unblinking, and unthinking. I had simply frozen his muscles and locked his mind, trying to keep him from getting back into the dungeon to spoil the entrance I had planned. But now, as he lay helpless, I wondered if he might utter the same words as Jupiter in Prometheus Unbound :

Mercy! Mercy! No pity, no release, no respite! Oh, That thou wouldst make mine enemy my judge,

Even where he hangs, seared by my long revenge...

He had sought vengeance upon me, and won. But now, as I held him in my power, I wondered if he would be as quick to cry for mercy as he was to inflict his desire to humiliate and exile me?

There was only one way to find out.

"Olympias laughed at me, of course... an actual laugh of good-natured sympathy at my lack of understanding. Though she had shown me the iron demeanor of a queen used to the intrigues and bloody back-stabbing, her laugh at that moment made her look warm and human, and that feeling was only amplified when she patted the back of my hand before continuing.

""Poor Merlin! Of course you know not of what I speak! How odd it is to me to sit here and know your destiny better than I know my own! But, that is why I am here... to offer you your destiny, knowing you will accept it, yet hoping, in some way, that you might not!

""I have lived through many centuries, Merlin, and have seen the rise and fall of many an empire. The ring draws me to places where those to whom it might belong are living, and, by its command, I was drawn to Camelot.

""I lingered in the kingdom for several seasons, finding no one who seemed destined to wear the ring. Instead, the two men who it seemed it might be most suited - Arthur himself, and Sir Lancelot - did not set off the sympathetic harmonies in the ring that let me know that their destinies were tied to its use. No, there was no one in the kingdom that seemed in any way tied to the ring... until one day, the wizard Merlin and I came into sight of each other as we passed in opposite directions at the main gate of the castle. The ring buzzed angrily on my finger, and seemed literally to raise my hand of its own accord, pointing directly at the mage. Startled, he bore down upon me, perceiving me as some sort of threat. But, when he was within a few feet of me, he noticed the ring upon my finger, and, quite suddenly, he began to smile. As he drew closer, I began to feel faint, and he stopped a few paces from me, as if he knew what discomfort his presence was causing me.

""He stood still, looking me up and down, as if comparing me to some picture in his mind. Still smiling, he said "Come tonight to the castle keep, sometime after the changing of the guard for evenwatch. Leave the ring where it cannot be seen, but where you can find it easily afterward. You will know why after we talk." And then, without a glance backward, he walked away from me and into the forests surrounding the castle.

""As he walked away, the pain being exerted by the ring faded, but I could not fathom what might have caused it! Usually, if someone is to be a ringwielder, there is a sense within me that I must find a way to be near that person, to offer them the chance to have the ring for themselves. It is not an unpleasant feeling, rather more an urge - something akin to what I'm feeling as I stand here with you now. But the feeling I had then was more like an electrical shock, entirely unpleasant. I had my doubts that I should want to meet Merlin again, no matter what he had to say to me!

""But, my curiosity proved stronger than my aversion, and soon after evenwatch had begun, I found myself in the castle keep, the ring left safely inside the pallet of straw which served as my bed each night. Once there, I did not have to wait long, for Merlin appeared directly and beckoned me to him. We ascended a set of stairs together, him leading the way, until he opened a door at the very top of the staircase and waved me inside.

""He ushered me to a chair, and then swung a kettle into the hearth above the fire. Only then did he sit in a chair opposite me. However, he still did not talk; he only looked at me, sweeping his eyes over me as if to find some flaw or imperfection.

""I used the silence to look him over as well. His head was bare, though several pointed hats sat perched in various places throughout the room. His hair was totally white, and it ran in uncontrolled cascades from his head, over his shoulders, and down his back. His whiskers were also long and flowing, and his mouth was not visible through the tangle of white locks. He wore long flowing robes, with billowing sleeves, his hands invisible unless he held his hands outward so they could fall backward, out of the way. Around his neck, he wore a simple silver chain, with a matching silver charm a pentacle, as befitted his status as a wizard. His look and manner befitted his reputation as a wise and powerful counselor and magician.

""Only when the water had boiled and he had brought me a cup of very good tea did he actually begin to speak. "So, Olympias, you have finally made your way back to me after all these years."

""Now, I had no idea what he meant, but he held up his hand, as if to silence any reply I might make. In doing so, the sleeve of his robe fell backward and down, and I saw his left hand clearly for the first time.

""On his ring finger sat the ring of Solomon! Quite quickly, I thought I understood why he had bid me to leave the ring behind. There should be only one ring of Solomon in existence, and the presence of a second ring is likely what made the one I carried exert such a painful effect on my hand. But, that didn't explain how HE was wearing the ring at that moment. Or how he knew my name!

"""How I know your name is easy enough. We have met before... or mayhap I should say, we have yet to meet. In any case, this meeting tonight closes a circle that spans almost 2000 years. You needed to be here, in order to know something of your own destiny, and something of mine. In a few moments, you will finish your tea, and we will part, and the ring will start pushing you toward your next meeting with destiny.

"""At the end of the world, you shall come upon a man alone. You shall offer him this ring, and, when he hesitates, you should take this," he produced a small, black book from the pocket of his robes, "and give it to him, and say only this: It is a gift from the past, to a man with a future that runs backward rather than forward. That will spur him to accept his destiny.

"""As for you, my dear, I have a gift for you as well." He again reached into his robes, and produced a wooden box, and handed it to me. I opened the lid, and inside rested a small charm, what the Celts called a rune. Carved in silver, it was attached to a small black cord, to hang around the neck.

"""You have a long journey ahead of you, Olympias, and many trials which you will face. I hope that this rune will help you find the rightful end to your journey. It is called 'Poerdh.' It influences the rightful outcome of the destiny of its wearer. I entreat you to wear it, for I have invested it with a bit of power, so that your path may be a bit easier along the way."

""He fell silent again then, as I stared at the gift and wondered if I should put it around my neck. Touching it with my finger, I felt a slight throb of power, and then a feeling of comfort and security washed over me. It was as if the charm was trying to reassure me that it meant me no harm. Thinking it would be bad manners to turn down such a gift, I slipped the knotted cord over my head, and let the charm settle face out atop my gray cloth dress. We remained in silence until the last sip of tea was gone, and then he quickly showed me out. As he predicted, we never spoke again... in fact, the few times I caught his eye across a courtyard or pathway, he looked through me, as if we had never met. It was no matter, for soon I was gone from Camelot and headed back into Europe for my next meeting with destiny.

"Olympias reached under her dress and pulled the end of a silver chain from underneath the fabric. On the end of the chain was a charm, I suppose the rune that had been given to her so long ago by Merlin... and at that point, all the little pieces of the story she had been telling since she began speaking came together in my mind.

""You think I, in some way, am Merlin, wizard to King Arthur?" I asked her, incredulous. Pointing at the rune, I said, "You think I gave you that charm? That I was the one who told you about meeting a man at the end of the world? Are you insane?"

"She only smiled at my accusation, as if I had made a jest. "Do I think that you, the man sitting here in front of me, gave me this?" She fingered the rune idly. "No, I do not think that precisely. What I think is simple in summary, yet complex by its very nature. What I think is that you will give me this charm... 2000 years from now.

""Or, should I say, 2000 years ago?"

I decided not to return Steven's mind to him yet, but instead simply instructed his body to rise from its prone position to its feet. "Now... what to do with you?" I mused.