November 1069
The journey to Trematon took a little over an hour, the village being about a mile and a half past the castle. It wasn't yet noon but it would be soon, and with that lunch time. In a village the size of Trematon, population two to three hundred at a glance, that meant the pub would be pretty full. A good place to pick up rumors, folk tales, and superstitions.
Really, only the former two were useful, but everyone had some of the latter and were sometimes keen to share. Really keen.
Malfoy joined me in the pub, though his general silence and lack of contribution made me wonder what his game was. So far he wasn't doing much to outshine me, just cooperating in his own infuriating way, which made me think he was planning on getting through this alive and with some credit to his name that he could then blow out of proportion. And I didn't quite know how to address that yet; I'd need to, ugh, get Salazar's opinion.
Overall the combined lunch investigation took two hours and produced one okay meal and a ton of information, only some of it useful. Some amount of overheard village gossip, most of which was either medieval sitcom material or depressing depending on whether the people they were talking about were alive or dead, a mixed bag of regional history claiming Danish viking raiding sometime in the past which wasn't surprising, a more useful set of tales regarding some Danish viking barrows a day or two out west, and a number of statements saying the disappearances had been happening for months and generally seemed to happen at night.
That told me a few things: there were almost certainly two predators, one more potent than the other, and the local lord was either incompetent or whatever predator or group of predators was going around hunting down solitary farming families could travel without being easily detected.
Now, that wasn't as helpful as I would have liked, but to my, uh, something, mixed bag of emotions really, Salazar walked into the pub near the end of the two hours, looking a decade younger and decidedly less leather and snake-y, and immediately headed to the corner table I'd eaten my lunch at.
"Hello," I said, deciding that I would at least try to be polite and present a common front in front of Malfoy.
"Harry," he said, taking a seat before looking at Malfoy. "Armaund, presumably."
"Salazar, presumably," Malfoy replied. He glanced between me and Salazar, eyes slightly narrowed, as if comparing and contrasting us. We both glared at him for that.
Off to a great start.
"So what have you found out?" I asked.
"Revenant and two ghouls," he said, settling down and not motioning to the bartender or waitress. "They were splitting farmers and travelers according to their dietary preferences. I dealt with them."
My eyebrow started twitching.
"How so?" Malfoy asked, evidently as annoyed but hiding it better.
"I located a number of outlying houses and farmsteads and set watches on all of them. When one was attacked, I responded. By the time I arrived they were busy feeding, and so missed my presence. Then they died."
That got an appraising look out of Malfoy and a dirty look out of me, washing away the annoyance. I grit my teeth, worked my jaw, and tried to find a response that didn't involve punching Salazar for being a cold-hearted bastard.
"Effective," Malfoy said, his tone one of grudging admittance.
I resolved then to sucker punch both of them at some point.
"When was this, exactly?" I asked, my voice tight.
"Three nights ago," Salazar said.
I did some quick mental math to distract myself from the desire to punch him in the face. "You missed something," I said.
"Really? What?" he asked.
"A patrol of men, slaughtered three days past now. They were exsanguinated," Malfoy cut in.
Salazar frowned. "During the day?"
Malfoy nodded.
"Hmm." He leaned back and crossed his arms. "That's different. The two ghouls were average at best, and the revenant couldn't strike in the day. They couldn't have done that, not unless the patrol was two men only, three at most."
"Eight. Two riders, six on foot," Malfoy supplied.
"Definitely not, then," Salazar said.
"We think it might be a draugr," I said, ignoring Malfoy's look. "Or at least something necromantic."
"A daywalking draugr," Salazar said, reaching up to stroke his slight, graying beard. "I haven't found any traces of such a creature."
"They drive animals crazy, right?" I asked.
Both Malfoy and Salazar nodded, though only Salazar got what I was driving at. Which, really, I should've left it at that, but I was feeling annoyed and pissed at Salazar, so I went a step further and voiced my thoughts.
"If you were tracking the attackers through animals somehow, you wouldn't have gotten solid information," I said.
Salazar gave me a look, while Malfoy arched an eyebrow at Salazar.
"Unless you just came up with an idea in the past minute," I said, pausing a little to see if Salazar would chip in, "then I think we need to see if it is a draugr. And if it isn't, then we need to pull out bigger... measures to try and find whatever this second attacker is."
"And do you know where to look?" Salazar asked, tone a little dry.
"There is a supposed Danish barrow a day's ride or walk to the west, in the foothills," Malfoy said.
Salazar looked at Malfoy, looked at me, then unfolded his arms. "Then go return your escort. They'll only get in the way. While you're doing that, I'll start my investigation. I'll rejoin you after you've left the castle."
I waited until Salazar had gotten up from his chair and was turning to leave before I asked, "Hey, Salazar, you're not a Spaniard right?"
Salazar turned and gave me a very dirty look.
"Good, I thought so. Was just a little confused because Malfoy here said it so confidently."
Salazar turned his look on Malfoy, who suddenly looked like someone confronted with an oncoming train.
"I'm Navarran, you imbecile," Salazar spat. Literally. He spat.
That made me blink. That seemed rather intense for what I thought was a simple case of mistaken cultural origin. It felt personal, like someone Spanish had wronged him in particular.
Well, at least it demolished, bulldozed, burnt, salted, and ashed the budding camaraderie between Malfoy and Salazar. That was a plus.
"You wish to forgo the men I have seconded to you," Reginald said slowly, looking at Malfoy.
Seeing as how I didn't agree with the idea, not completely, I'd graciously handed off all responsibility for selling the idea to Reginald as something that wasn't insane to Malfoy.
"Your men have been helpful and gracious, but I believe that they will be of limited use against that which has already savaged one of your patrols," Malfoy said smoothly. "I would not want them to lose their lives, however bravely."
"And what has killed my men, then?" Reginald asked, turning in his seat to glance at me. "And why have the king and the earl sent you two, and only you two, to deal with this matter?"
I made a fist, flicked my thumb in the reverse of the motion it took to spark a lighter, and muttered, "Flickum bicus."
A small flame sprang into being above my thumb, drawing a wide-eyed look from Reginald.
"We're specialists in the strange and supernatural," I said, letting the fire wink out a few seconds later.
Reginald crossed himself, and Malfoy shot me a tired glance over the lord's shoulder. I looked back at Malfoy with a "well?" expression.
"As my... associate has demonstrated," Malfoy said, his tone still smooth and polite, "we are uniquely capable to solve your current problem. Your men are undoubtedly capable, but there is little they can do against a foe that ignores mundane arms."
"How? Why?" Reginald asked, his voice progressively becoming steadier and more indignant. "What has killed my men?"
"We believe it to be a draugr," Malfoy said. "It is a kind of revenant, the walking corpse of an especially evil and foul Dane. They are stronger than a man in every physical sense, have dark magic at their command, and some are proof against all mundane weapons. This particular draugr may not be so resilient, but even so, it slew eight of your men. Another six will not help."
Reginald slowly turned to look at me.
"Everything Malfoy said is true," I said. "Draugr are strong, tough, magical, and potentially invulnerable to whatever weapons you have. If it is a draugr, your men will probably be useless, if not actively harmful. Draugr like to try and drive men insane. That said, in the event it isn't a draugr, or if we run into someone or something else while we're searching for the draugr, their presence would be helpful. And if, in the worst case, the draugr beats us, or it turns out to not be a draugr, they'll be able to warn you sooner."
"And if you are beaten," Reginald asked slowly, "what do I do? What do we do?"
I winced at a sudden headache and rubbed at my temples. "Try wrestling."
Reginald looked at me as if I was crazy. "What?"
"Assuming it is a draugr, it can be wrestled back into its grave or barrow, where it can be laid to rest. And then, once it's back to being a corpse, dismembered. Now, wrestling a corpse that's stronger than any given two men is a challenge, but if we die, it will be your only remaining option."
Reginald continued to give me the crazy look.
"Like I said. Strange and supernatural," I said.