Page 8 of Keeper of the Flame: Orrick

“Ah, so you get a bad feeling from him as well?”

“I do. Don’t forget, Orrick, that when I was a child, I often had dreams and premonitions. I might be getting old but I still listen to my gut when it warns me about someone or something.”

“Getting old?” Orrick chuckled.

“Don’t laugh, old man,” said Corbett. “You are older than all of us. You never did tell me your real age.”

Orrick stopped laughing, having an idea. “Corbett, there is a lot I haven’t revealed about my past. But I will tell you that I can be any age I choose to be.”

“So, you’re not really an old, cantankerous, odd man who everyone thinks is always angry or just plain out of his mind?”

“Well, I suppose I can’t deny that,” said Orrick, making them both laugh. “However, I have a plan how I can learn more about Lady Hope and her escort and their true intentions if they were to find the Eternal Flame.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” asked Corbett. “I hardly think a beautiful young lady like Hope is going to tell an old wizard any of her deepest secrets.”

“Sorcerer. Not wizard,” Orrick reminded him. “And although she wouldn’t tell anything to an old man, perhaps she would let me seduce her into telling me her secrets . . . but as a young, handsome man instead.”

“Orrick, I don’t –” Corbett stopped in midsentence as Orrick waved his hand through the air and shapeshifted into a much younger and much more handsome version of himself. Corbett’s jaw dropped open. “You – you’re . . .” He pointed and just kept shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’ve seen me shapeshift before, my lord,” said Orrick. “This should come as no surprise to you.”

“Aye, but never have you looked like this.”

Orrick walked over to the standing mirror in the solar, admiring his new body. Gone was the long, white beard and mustache. In its place was rich, dark stubble. Instead of having wrinkled, loose skin, his skin was pulled taut over bulging muscles. Orrick looked to be in the prime of his life, perhaps in his late twenties. He lifted his hand and ran his fingers over the angles of his face, staring at his bluish-green eyes in the mirror that seemed to turn to amethyst. It was a far cry from the body of an eighty-year-old sorcerer.

“It’s been so long,” he muttered, running his hands down his sturdy chest, standing straight and tall instead of bent over. He seemed much taller this way. He held his hands out in front of him, surveying them, wondering if he could still wield a sword the way he used to when he was first married to Petronilla. Just thinking about his beautiful wife had him feeling randy again. It was something that had not happened in quite a long time now. He looked down below his belt to see his hardened form protruding from under his hose and cloak.

Orrick was so alive again and it felt damned good! His body tingled with the blood that coursed through him. Earlier today he’d wanted to die and thought there was no purpose to life. But now – now he felt like all he wanted to do was live, experiencing life to the fullest.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Corbett.

Orrick looked up at Corbett’s reflection in the mirror. His lord still stood behind him as if he were unable to move. Orrick hadn’t looked this young in a hundred years. And it only made Corbett look that much older. Emotions coursed through Orrick again, making him feel cocky, cautious, and calloused all at once. Had he made a mistake shifting into his younger self after being an old man since the day Petronilla died? And would being in his younger form only bring back the sorrow he’d tried to forget for such a long time?

He was about to dismiss this idea and shift back into the image of an old man, when the door to the solar burst open and Lady Hope strutted in, followed by the steward.

“I’m sorry, my lord, I tried to stop her,” apologized Harold.

Lady Hope stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes sweeping over to Orrick who was still standing there admiring himself in the mirror.

“Lady Hope, was there something you needed?” asked Corbett.

“I wanted to tell you that . . . that the meal is ready,” she said, drinking in Orrick’s new appearance. Orrick liked the way she perused him, however, it only made things worse. When he looked down, he noticed that his erection had gotten bigger just from looking at Hope in the mirror.

“Well, send a servant next time,” scolded Corbett. “And at Blake Castle, we knock at the door and wait until acknowledged before entering a room, so don’t let that happen again.”

“Of course, my lord.” She spoke to Corbett but her eyes stayed focused on Orrick. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I had the pleasure of meeting your friend,” she said, smiling sweetly.

Orrick felt tongue-tied and didn’t know what to say. If he turned around, would she know it was him? He hadn’t planned on staying in this shapeshifting form, and had felt like he’d made a mistake. But now that she’d seen him, he had to at least give her a name.

“I’m . . . I’m . . .” His brain froze as well as his tongue and he didn’t know what to say.

“Lady Hope, I’d like you to meet Sir . . . Sir Rick Pendragon,” said Corbett. “He is here visiting Blake Castle as my guest.”

“Sir Rick. How nice to meet you,” she said, hurrying across the room to Orrick.

He groaned. Having no choice, he turned around fully, taking her hand in his. Bowing, he brought his lips to the back of her hand in a kiss.

“My lady, it is an honor and pleasure to meet someone who holds such beauty that she puts the stars in the heavens to shame.” His voice sounded deep and rich – so unlike the high cackling voice he’d been using in the guise of an old man. He’d almost forgotten how good it sounded. But one thing he didn’t forget was how to treat a lady.