Talmot

"I thought we were leaving?" Lorna asked, following close behind Talmot.

The General led them under the budding light of brisk dawn through the practice yard of Fort Balvier, but instead of turning toward the stables, he veered toward Commander Jeanu's office. "We are my dear, but first there is a matter that requires my attention," Talmot said with a grin.

Talmot took a certain amount of satisfaction at seeing a worried look wash over the delicate features of the witch's face as they entered the Commander's small study. The smell of old cigars and stale whiskey still permeated the air, but there was little that could shake him from the excellent mood he woke up in this morning.

The Commander's squat form lounged at his desk, eyes still bleary from too much drink the night before. His tone was genial; however, and Talmot assumed the man was always in good spirits, hungover or not.

"General! Look over the contract," Jeanu said, pushing a crisp piece of parchment across the desk, "I'm sure the clerk saw to your requested amendments but best to read it over to be sure."

Talmot strode to the desk jauntily, relieved that he would be finally closing any loopholes Lorna had managed to wiggle through in her previous contract. The General read over the text slowly and nodded in approval once complete. Everything he had asked for, plus some additional clarification that only a clerks skill could add, was included in the contract.

"What is this?" Lorna asked, leaning over Talmot's shoulder to peruse the document herself.

"It's your new contract, woman. Do not think I haven't noticed the change in your behavior, or with such ease, the fugitives have escaped. I don't know what you're doing, but it has become apparent you have not been...bound properly." Talmot said, turning to the woman to meet her gaze with a challenging stare.

He could feel the rage, always simmering so close to the surface, begin to rise within him once again. Talmot was not accustomed to being made the fool. Once the revised document was signed, the days of Lorna undermining his authority would come to an abrupt end.

The Commander cleared his throat loudly, startling the pair from their silent argument. "Now, if you both don't mind signing in the traditional way, you can be on your way," Jeanu said, motioning for them to come forward.

Only when witches were contracted through the Ibudali armed forces was a witness required for the transaction, typically a superior officer. Talmot was accustomed to the bureaucratic nature of army life but was ready to start the next chapter of his journey. He moved swiftly, pulling the knife sheathed at his hip from its holster. With no further ceremony, he swiped the blade across his palm and smeared his outstretched hand across the bottom of the parchment.

Both Talmot and Jeanu focused their gaze on Lorna, who stood tall in her white gown and light gray dust cloak. Her long arms were folded tightly to her chest, and a defiant look contorted her heart-shaped face into a harrowing sight.

"Come, girl, sign the contract." Commander Jeanu said with a smile, his bushy mustache bouncing along with each word.

Only one word escaped her pursed lips, "No."

The Commander's face fell, mustache drooping almost comically. Talmot's rage flowed through every crevice of his body like a thick liquid threatening to escape. He marched toward Lorna then, looming over her threateningly, unable to smooth his features in any semblance of calm. Through gritted teeth, he told her, "Sign it, now,"

"I am not signing it, Talmot," she spat his while attempting to pull herself up to her full height. Still several inches shorter than the General, the woman showed no fear, only cold determination. "I don't even know what I'm agreeing to-"

"AND YOU DON'T NEED TO!" Talmot bellowed at the witch. Jeanu let out a small squeak from behind the desk gripping the edges of his chair. Lorna didn't even flinch, just stood there running a free hard through her long red hair.

"Yes, I do," she said calmly. "As stated in the compact written in the year 1602 A.D.E., per law 13b, every witch has the right to-"

"You have no rights, woman." Talmot hissed, "I AM THE LAW!" He screamed, grabbing her arm with such force that she cried out.

Talmot could feel her scratching and clawing at him as he dragged her to the desk but felt no sympathy for the woman. Jeanu pushed the parchment toward him with shaking hands, a look of pure terror plastered on the man's jowly face. It was time.

Lorna could physically try to fight him all she wanted, but her contract forbid her from using harmful magic on him. The advantage was to him in a fight, overpowering the woman was almost too easy. He laughed as she began to kick at the back of his legs in a last-ditch effort to release his grip. He pulled the knife again from his hip,

"You cannot do this!" she shrieked.

"I am a General in the Ibudali army, witch. You are worth nothing unless useful to me." He sneered, leaning just inches away from the woman's face. For the first time, fear registered in her large round eyes. "I can, and I will do this."

Talmot swiped the blade across her forearm, leaving a gash that opened wide over her pale skin. He smudged the wound across the paper as Lorna screamed out loud. A shrill howl of pain and despair pierced the air as purple light filled the small office. The contract was now binding. The General watched as she fell to the ground on her knees, gripping her neck as blood ran down her forearm staining the white fabric of her dress sleeve.

He picked the contract up off the desk as the Commander stared at him blankly, clearly stunned from the display he witnessed. Talmot tossed the document at Lorna who sat sobbing quietly on the ground,

"Read it on the ride. We depart now." and turned on his heel leaving the broken and bleeding witch to follow him.