July 1069

I left the castle and went back into the town, heading towards the inn Helga was staying in with the intent of checking in with her. It took me about five minutes to find the building in question, a small, two story building made of wood, and when I walked in I initially didn't see her. I didn't just assume she wasn't there, however. Instead, I stretched out my arcane senses, feeling for the presence of magic, and found a shimmering barrier off to the side of the small bar room surrounding a single empty table and stool.

After a brief look in that direction, I walked up to the counter and ordered a late lunch from the innkeep, before accepting a flagon of beer and dragging a stool over to that empty table. A few moments later I felt the barrier, probably a veil, shift and move away. Then, about a minute later, I heard someone come down the stairs to the second floor, and looked over my shoulder to find Helga approaching me. She spoke to the innkeep briefly, then moved to sit down at the first stool.

"So, how did it go?" she asked once she settled in.

"Well, there's the rough shape of an agreement," I said, keeping my voice low. "Robert's fine with the whole Kingswood idea, but the centaurs want assurances no royal's going to try and overreach and command them. The compromise I suggested was creating a small group of people that any king could order around to provide a buffer to the centaurs, but… well, there's a bit of a snag. The centaurs want to put someone of their choice in the position of royal forest warden, and Robert's not too keen on that."

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad, but… how would that work? I mean, I guess they have glamours, but…" She trailed off as a serving lady approached, flagon in hand, and offered it to Helga. "Thank you," she said, and smiled at the girl, who was maybe seventeen at most.

I waited for her to go away before answering. "Well, I'm not sure, but I figure they'll either choose a faerie that can pass for human or get a changeling for the position. And Robert didn't really take it well when I explained what changelings were."

Helga's eyes widened. "Oh. Oh." She cocked her head to the side. "That… huh. I mean… I guess centaur are faeries, so… hmm." She looked down at her drink. "Well, I guess it's not that much different to mermaids, and men fantasize about those."

I took a deep breath and brought my beer to my lips. "Can we not talk about this subject, please?"

"I didn't really want to anyway," Helga said, doing the same.

I drank, grimaced at the unpleasant heat of the beer, then powered through it anyway, downing half of it one go.

"So what now?" she asked after I finished chugging.

"Now, I hope Robert swallows his prejudice and gets the king's approval, because if he doesn't I suspect he's going to send an army into the woods to kill the centaurs. Which wouldn't really end well for anyone."

Helga nodded. "What about the vampires?"

"Well, the lady tried to seduce me. I think. She showed up clothed in my bedroom, at least. Not sure how to take that," I said.

Helga arched an eyebrow.

"Nothing happened," I said. "I kicked her out. Supposedly, they want to work together with me, but I don't really trust that, not really. But I figure, while they're trying to convince me, I can get some quid pro quo out of them." I looked down into the remaining half of my beer. "I guess the real test is whether they convince Robert that I have the right idea, or if they try and sabotage me."

"And if they try and sabotage you?" Helga asked.

I finished the rest of the beer. "Then I start playing dirty."

I went back to the castle shortly after finishing lunch, and after some thought decided to spend some time practicing my swordwork. So I set up in a corner of the main yard, drew my sword, and started going through some katas and motions, ignoring the way the guards on the walls and by the gate looked at me. About half an hour later, past the point where I had sheathed my sword and started running laps around the yard, I saw Tim come out of the castle and pause as he saw me jogging. Since I didn't know what he was there for I didn't stop jogging, not until he stepped in front of me and held up a hand.

I came to a stop and spent a few moments getting my panting under control, my eyes never leaving Tim, before I straightened, stretched, and groaned. "Tim," I said once I was done.

"Sir Harry," he replied.

"Still not a knight. What do you want?" I asked.

"My sister would like to inform you that she is counseling the good earl to see reason," Tim said.

"Counseling. Is that what kids are calling it these days? I can never keep up with the lingo."

Tim sighed. "Can you not simply take this in the spirit it is offered, as an open hand of cooperation?"

"I'll take it as a sign of mutually beneficial intent," I replied. "But alright, I'll play ball. I'm willing to entertain the notion that you and your sister are genuine, for now. One question though: why are you here?"

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked.

"Oh for…" I pitched my voice lower. "Your court's main haunt is the mainland. I'm sure there's a lot of fertile ground and opportunities there. But instead, you're here in bumfuck rural England. What gives?" I asked.

"I could ask the same of you," he said. "What is an obviously distinguished individual like yourself doing living in a hut in, as you say, 'bumfuck rural England'?"

"If I agree to tell you, will you share?" I responded.

Tim pursed his lips. Then, after a suitably dramatic pause, said, "Certain… incidents have prompted us to distance ourselves from our greater family. And you?"

"It costs money to live large, and I don't have money," I said in return.

Tim smiled. "Well, perhaps we can fix that."

"Save it. If I wanted to sell out, I could have done so already." I stuck my hands in my pockets. "Like I said Tim, I'm provisionally willing to work with you, to believe that you might not be like the rest of your family. But I'm not an idiot either; I know how your extended family operates. And so far, you haven't exactly proven to be different."

"Habits are hard to break," Tim said.

"Then I'm sure you'll appreciate my habit of paranoia," I replied. "By the way, tell your sister that if she wants to speak with me, she can set up a meeting like a normal person, not show up in my room and play the innocent like a fool."

"Why do you assume she was playing?"

"Tim, I know the way your family handles the 'initiation' into its secrets," I didn't miss the way Tim stiffened at that, "and I personally find it horrendous. Now I don't know if your sister regrets what happened or not, but I don't buy for a second that she's an innocent."

"And why not?"

"Because the earl is still alive, and I also don't buy that the only thing that's going on there is casual leering," I said. "Now, Tim, before you go any further with trying to muddy the waters here, let me make one thing clear: I can determine her nature. I would like to not look upon her with my Sight, but I will if I have to. So let's get one thing straight: if I find out you've lied to me, especially about something so basic and insulting as the nature of your sister, we're going to have problems. Big problems. Now, with that in mind, would you like to continue with your current course of action?"

Tim's expression grew flat and guarded. "No," he said simply.

"Great. Now go tell your sister, unless she's busy 'counseling'," I said, before walking away.

I know there's a simpler way I could have checked their sincerity, if I was willing to go that far. I could have soulgazed him, or her, or both of them. But there were things I'd seen under the Sight that had scarred me, bad, and still haunted my nightmares. I didn't feel like taking the risk of adding to them.

Besides, I had no clue what they'd see in mine.

There wasn't much else to do after that. I didn't want to talk further with Tim, Lucille wasn't an option even if I wanted to, neither was Robert, Eadric wasn't an interesting conversationalist, and John, well, I guess I could have gone back and talked to John, or Helga, but instead I decided to take a proper tour of the castle to figure out what the amenities were.

There was a small private chapel – no surprise there – lots of bedrooms and living quarters, a courtroom, meeting place, kitchen, so on and so on. And, surprisingly, a library.

That instantly caught my attention when a guard mentioned it, and I'm sure I disturbed and creeped him out at the urgency with which I prodded him to lead me there, even more so by the way our breaths started misting over as we walked.

To my slight disappointment, it wasn't a large library, twenty feet by thirty at my best estimate, with a good chunk of square footage taken up by tall, thin shelves along both sides of the entrance, a few tables, and some chairs. One of those chairs was occupied by a familiar woman, clad in a more conservative and covering red dress. She was seated by the open window, reading a book by the noonday sun, and she looked up in interest as I entered.

"Ah. I see you've finally found the library," Elfleda said.

I arched an eyebrow at her. "Were you waiting for me the entire time?" I asked.

"Not particularly. Reading's one of the few enjoyments afforded to noblewomen, those that bother to learn to read anyway. I simply figured that you'd arrive here at some point. I am glad to see I was not mistaken in that assumption."

I nodded and entered the room proper, closing the door behind me. I glanced around at the shelves, and couldn't help frown at the paucity of books. "So what's all this?"

"Primarily the chaplain's collection," she said. "Though I've added some of my personal items. The right side," she waved to my left, "consists of dry, practical texts."

It was also, I noted, the fuller side.

"And the other?" I asked.

"Novels," she said with a small smile. "Some are French translations, others are copies of the original Greek."

"You know Greek?" I asked, faintly surprised. I didn't know Greek myself. Well, I guess I could have learned it if I was willing to suffer through migraines for a few weeks straight, but that didn't really appeal to me.

"I can read Greek," she corrected. "It's simpler, not to mention more… fulfilling to read the originals. And you?"

I shook my head. "English, French, and Latin's it for me. And I guess there aren't any English books here."

"No," she said with some amusement. "As for Latin, a good number of the tomes on the right are in that language. I assume so, at least. In fact, I believe the top shelf consists entirely of ecclesiastical texts, if you're so inclined." She sounded dismissive as she said that last bit.

"Not a fan?" I asked.

"Simply not interested," she said, going back to her reading.

I scratched behind one of my ears and went over to the nonfiction section, mostly out of interest in what constituted priestly nonfiction. The top shelf consisted of a few Bible versions, from what I could determine, as well as a number of theological dissertations, analyses, so on. Then, beneath that, tomes on philosophy and natural philosophy, and below that...

"What the fuck?" I exclaimed.

I heard the rustling of clothes and pages as Elfleda presumably looked up. "What?"

"I thought you said this was full of dry and practical texts," I said.

"I did. And?"

"He's got a… holy shit, third edition Aeneid here," I said, carefully taking out the book and peeking at the opening. "I repeat, what the fuck?"

"Oh?" She sounded much more interested now.

"Or, well, maybe second edition, this isn't a scroll so it's not one of the original copies and definitely not the original original, but it looks like it's one of the first manuscripts. How the hell did he get his hands on this?"

"Perhaps he asked the earl to procure it as a favor," Elfleda said after a brief pause. "He's rather an ascetic in every other regard."

"Yeah, but this couldn't have been cheap," I said, putting the book back in its place very, very carefully, then started scanning the rest of that shelf. "And… well, I think that's Greek. Maybe."

I heard the closing of a book and the shuffling of shoes, and shifted over for her to crouch down next to me. "Ah. The Iliad and the Odyssey."

"You didn't take a good look at this shelf, did you?" I asked, ignoring any implications over our physical proximity.

"It seems not," she said, straightening her legs and brushing clean her dress.

I sighed and got up as well, then stretched and groaned as I cracked my back. Whatever future-Mab had done to fix my broken spine had done a very good job, but there were still occasional flareups of painful cramps and twinges of pain. It was probably a result of all the other blunt force trauma I've accumulated over the years.

"So, is now a good time to have that talk, or am I interrupting you?" I asked.

"Not at all," she said, moving back to her previous seat. "I must admit, I've been brimming with curiosity since our encounter last night."

"Alright," I said, grabbing a chair in the middle of the room and swiveling it to face her. "What's your perspective on what happened?"

"Magic, I assume," she said. "And an indicator of strength? Or are all such contacts so… thrilling?"

"No, you're right on both counts," I said, settling down into my seat. "Magical talent and rough strength can be determined through touch. I assume you weren't aware of that, never met anyone else with the gift?"

"Oh, yes, that would've gone over very well. 'Father, I think I might be a witch, can you help me with that'?" She snorted.

"Well, the reason I ask is that magic tends to run in bloodlines. Sometimes it fades away and then pops up at random, but usually the best indicator is that if your mother had magic and didn't let it wither, then you almost certainly would too."

"Ah," she said, her expression turning flat. "Well, my mother and I certainly weren't very close. I'd prefer if we didn't discuss her."

"Fair enough," I said. "Then, do you know what you can do? With your level of power, you should have one, distinct, partially instinctive ability."

"That, I can tell you," she said. "I sense emotions."

I nodded as things came together. "Is that why you avoid eye contact? Or is that just with me?"

"I discovered early on that the extra detail could be useful, but was also irritating. And not always the most subtle. Why, is there another reason I shouldn't have looked you in the eye?"

"Past a certain point of power, when you can be called a proper wizard, eye contact with another person that isn't momentary initiates something called a soulgaze. It's… the best way to describe it is that you see the other person's soul, the unvarnished truth of their being. And that vision stays fresh in your mind, forever."

"And that's why you avoid eye contact," she concluded.

"Yeah," I replied. "Though your gift kind of makes me curious. I've met other sensitives, proper psychomancers and more narrow practitioners like you, and they've generally stayed away from groups of people. But you don't seem to."

"It is an irritant," she admitted. "But if I allowed that to dictate my life then it would be a great failure and surrender." She smiled faintly. "Like whatever aura of cold you carry with you."

"It's actually just random temperature swings, but I acknowledge the point," I said. I tapped my hands against my legs as I went through other topics of discussion. "So, how do you feel emotion?"

"I see auras," she replied. "Waves of colors I've come to match to emotions."

"It doesn't press up against your mind?" I asked, curious.

"Not really, I don't think," she said slowly.

"Huh." That was definitely different. "So, how do I look?" I asked.

She pursed her lips and started looking me over analytically. "Guarded, a tinge of frustration, curiosity…" Her lips quirked into a smile. "Interest."

I coughed.

"Oh, there's no need for that. I'm aware of the reactions I evoke. Keenly so, in fact," she said, leaning forward slightly and then laughing at my reaction.

"Yes, well," I said in between coughs, "are you Robert's… court sorceress then?"

She laughed idly. "Oh, no, he doesn't know. I'm just an outlier, really. The Aldrich family never held any important land, was never rich, was never great. It just served the Count of Mortain, and that's Robert now. My mother is gone, as is my father, I have no aunts or uncles, no one to offer a dowry if anyone would even accept such a paltry offering."

"Well, even ignoring the dowry, which… whatever, there's got to be plenty of people interested in marrying you," I said.

"Out of lust, yes," she said. "It's very easy to see lust, it shines so very brightly. But true, genuine interest is very scarce. I've come to an accord with Robert, in that regard. I serve in the court as his shining pretty, help him in various subtle ways, and in turn he pretends to wield me as a bauble and lure while heeding my opinions."

"And how does Lucille figure into that?" I asked.

Elfleda's lips curled into a frown. "Ah, the lying seductress. There is something wrong with her. She shines with lust, but it's not her own. She's irritated by my presence, but so far we haven't clashed over anything important."

"What do you mean it's not her own?" I asked.

I had a damn good clue what she meant, actually, but I figured that outing Lucille and, by extension, Tim, as vampires would ruin any potential partnership between us. Which I was prepared to do if they turned out to be malevolent, but I wasn't willing to go that far right now.

"She and her brother both are… shrouded with lust. Like they impress it, rather than express it. But underneath, they're different. Timothée is proud and arrogant and whimsical, while Lucille is… cold. Simply cold."

Useful information, if definitely from a biased source.

"Do they have similar… gifts as mine, only inverted?" she went on to ask.

"Basically," I hedged.

I felt a little guilty about that, honestly. I was leaving an attractive woman with a very useful talent in close proximity to a male Raith. If he ever found out what Elfleda was capable of, if Lucille ever found out, Elfleda wouldn't be able to defend herself. But if I told the Renouths to stay away from Elfleda, they'd start looking into her in more detail. Or maybe they'd just assume I was shacking up with her, and displaying traditional 'ra-ra my woman stay away' male ownership. Could go either way. Either way, I needed to know more.

"Has Tim tried seducing you?" I asked cautiously, trying to feel out the state of affairs and how far I might need to go.

She laughed. "Oh, yes, quite a few times. He's not bad to look at, I'll give him that, but the way he tries to use lust against me is just… distinctly unattractive. After he annoyed me one too many times, he came to understand that I was most emphatically not interested."

"Really?" I asked. "How'd that happen."

Her lips curled into a smirk. "It may or may not have involved some rather… pointed words."

I snorted. "Rejected him in front of everyone?"

She shrugged in a carefree and unconvincing manner. "If that's what you wish to believe…"

"And that's it? He hasn't tried to get revenge?" I asked.

"No, nor his sister." Her smirk widened. "Why? Worried about little me?"

"A little," I said. "The way I see it they have more influence over Robert than you do, and if they wanted to hurt you, I imagine they could."

"That's sweet of you, but I can handle myself," she said dismissively. "Now, I imagine you came here to read. Do you have any particular preferences, or would you like a recommendation?"

"Well, I don't know what's here, so by all means, go ahead," I said.

"Hmm. In that case…"

Author's Note: In general, unless I specify otherwise, assume Harry is speaking with someone in their "native language" – so English with Eadric, Helga, Rowena, Salazar (yeah yeah I know English isn't his native language and that it's probably Basque whatever), French with the Normans, etc.