Merlyn's Fate

The Witchfinder P3

Merlyn had been pouring over Gaius' books for hours, trying to place the peculiar petals. She knew that she'd seen them before, that the physician had warned her of them in one of his many ramblings. Now, she wished that she'd paid more attention.

"This is hopeless." Gwen exclaimed next to her, slumping in defeat as she threw another book into her ever increasing pile of uselessness.

"Keep looking." Merlyn didn't even glance at her defeated friend. She needed to save Gaius, Morgana, perhaps even herself, however selfish the thought may be. Finally, with the last of her strength, she reached for a tome on poisons, flicking through its contents, determined to find the answer within its pages.

"We don't even know that this flower is relevant." Gwen continued, holding a petal up to the light.

Merlyn swept her hair out of her face, staring at her concerned friend beseechingly. "Just trust me, it's all we've got." She turned over a couple more pieces of old parchment, careful not to tear the aged fabric, before noticing an illustration in the top right hand corner of the tome.

"Here." she pointed to it, reading the title of the page. "Belladonna."

"For the alleviation of ulcers, allergies, muscular inflammation... This doesn't help us Merlyn." Gwen cried, one of her hands fiddling nervously with her necklace.

"Wait, listen." The witch continued to read, scanning the parchment with a new glimmer of hope. "Under some conditions the tincture of the flower can produce hallucinations."

Gwen frowned, not quite grasping her friend's sudden realisation. "So?" she asked, startled by Merlyn's sudden humourless laughter.

"Aredian's witnesses didn't see magic, it was visions." The witch discerned, glad when Gwen's eyes lit up in comprehension.

"It makes sense if he's faking the evidence. But how can we prove it? The witchfinder is too clever to have given the tincture to the witnesses directly. They must've got it from somewhere else." Gwen muttered, partially to herself, looking around the room as if the answer would suddenly appear from its shadowy corners.

Merlyn sighed. "They could've been getting it from anyone. Is there anything, anything at all that these people had in common?"

Gwen shrugged. "They were all women?" she suggested, shaking her head in exasperation.

"But that doesn't tell us anything." The witch tapped her fingers on the table, hating her own inadequacy. She had to save Gaius, but the time before sunrise was dwindling.

Then, the blacksmith's daughter grinned. "Yes it does! What's the one thing only women would buy?"

Merlyn gasped in realisation, amazed at her friend's ingenious.

"Things to make them look beautiful." Gwen finished, dragging the witch out of the room by the arm.

∆

If she were honest, Merlyn didn't really buy makeup. She didn't have time in the mornings to put it on, and when she did, she didn't cover her face in the assortments of powders that she'd seen on the Lady Morgana's dressing table, unless, of course, it was a special occasion. Even then, she generally just borrowed her friend's endless supply of eyeshadow and blushers, rarely venturing into the lower town to stock up on the stuff. Hence, when she and Gwen ran through the streets, the vacant stalls quite ominous in the dim candlelight, she let her friend lead the way, following her to a small shop along one of the more prominent roads. Gwen knocked loudly, standing back as an elderly man opened the door, squinting at his visitors, probably disgruntled to have been awoken so late at night. His patchy hair glowed silver in his candlelight, tired eyes staring at them in shock.