April 1070
"A clay doll?" Elfleda asked, turning her half of the focus around in her hands.
It was more a figurine than a doll, and a rough one at that. It really only looked like me if you mixed a heavy alcohol binge with a concussion and then squinted through a layer of film, but it had, you know, the general features: a face, something that approached a kindergartener's artistic impression of hair, a duster, and a staff.
"If those are the kind of dolls you played with as a girl, I think I pity you," I said.
Elfleda snorted and shot me a look.
"It's one of a paired set," I said, raising up another, nearly identical, slightly better made clay figurine – the transmitter to Elfleda's receiver. "When you get down to it, it's pretty basic. Keep it on yourself, don't get too far away, in this case a quarter of a mile, and so long as I focus on and power my end, you'll look and sound and partly feel like me, I'll be able to hear anything said on your end, and you, and just you, will be able to hear anything I say."
"And this took you a few weeks to make?" she asked.
"A few weeks to kludge together, based on some items and foci I used to own," I said. "It has a lot of limitations, like not having a way for you to talk back to me, but for this purpose it should be fine. Should. Haven't actually tested it yet."
"A rather significant oversight, no?" she asked.
"Yeah. But I'm fairly confident in what I've done, and the part I'm most iffy about is the real-time link, not the sustainability," I said. "So, pass me that."
She did, and I lifted the pair of figurines to my mouth. I breathed on them, muttered some faux-Latin under my breath, and said, "Here, catch."
I tossed the receiver-figurine back to Elfleda, and when she caught there was a slight blur to her features, enough that I was worried that I had screwed up somewhere. Then the blur resolved and Elfleda metaphorically exploded into a tall man, too lanky and scarred to look altogether healthy, with one nasty scar cutting so close across one eye it should've been blind. His face was rough and disorganized, three days' worth of growing stubble making for one hell of a mess, and his hair looked like a rumpled mess of short waves.
I blinked and spent a few seconds staring at, well, myself, and then looked over the rest of the glamour to make sure it matched.
"Okay. You've got the duster but it's an illusion, and…" I heard an echo of my own voice, called my staff to my hand, and noticed that it didn't show up. "Okay, that's kind of good, it's properly differentiating between what I hold and what I wear, can you move your figurine to the other hand? Thanks, so that's not carrying over either." I nodded then looked back at mirror-me's face. "What am I looking at right now, from your perspective?"
"Thin air," said a voice that sounded like it had been dragged over a pile of rocks.
"And what are you doing right now?" I asked.
"Looking you in the nose," she said.
I checked the sightline of the illusion and then nodded. "And so's the illusion. Good." I sighed. "I need a shave. And an… everything."
"I like it. It makes you look rugged," Elfleda disagreed. "Though in this instance, you could do with some slight alterations. Can I let go of the doll now?"
"One second. Cover your ears first," I said.
The mirror-me covered his ears. I stepped back until I was right up against the door, then leaned down to the figurine in my hand and whispered, with a touch of power in my voice, "Can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"Okay, good. Yeah, you can let go now."
She did, setting the figurine down onto my bed, and the illusion broke.
"I will be back momentarily," Elfleda said. "Don't go anywhere."
She left the room, and came back a few minutes later with a comb in one hand and a makeup kit in the other.
"Uh…"
"Oh, shush."
A few hours later, someone knocked at my door and a gruff voice said, "Harry Dresden. The bishop will see you now."
"Understood. One moment," Elfleda said in my voice.
I carefully crept to the front of the room and pushed myself against the wall so that when the door opened, it obscured me. Then Elfleda, as me, opened the door, using the edge to obscure the visual weirdness that was the illusion's arm and elbow bending in weird ways to accommodate Elfleda's smaller reach. Once it was halfway open, she pulled her hand back and let momentum do the rest.
"Lead on," she said, then walked out of the room. Once I heard that she was clear, I slowly closed the door. That little bit of theatricality had been Elfleda's idea.
There was a brief pause, and then I heard three sets of footsteps walking away from the door. Once I started hearing them more through the other figurine than my own ears, I sighed and went to sit on my bed, and waited.
A few minutes of relative silence passed until the sound of footsteps was broken by the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by Elfleda politely saying "Your Excellency, Bishop Odo" which was the verbal signal for game time.
Oh, uh, if you're wondering where she put the figurine to keep her hands free, well… I leave guessing that as an exercise to the reader.
"Wine?" Odo said, presumably at least. He had a voice fit for radio, rich and steady and clear.
"Please," Elfleda said.
I frowned slightly but didn't comment. Elfleda had gotten some practice in moving about under the illusion, to get an idea how things looked, but I was concerned drinking wine might screw that up a little. Still, considering the amount of effort she'd put into the preparations, asking me question after question so that she could provide appropriate, immediate answers, I had to believe that Elfleda wasn't planning on screwing me over.
I heard the padding of feet, the opening and closing of cabinet doors, the clink of goblets, and the pouring of wine. Then I heard Elfleda say "Thank you" and the slight rustling of clothing that suggested she sat.
"Harry Dresden," Odo began. "I've heard a number of things about you from my brother, some of which I'm sure were exaggerated."
"Nothing too grand, I hope. The earl has always struck me as a serious man."
"That he is, but he lacks the perspective I have as a man of the cloth. Now, I have some idea of why you are here, of course, but before we discuss what I may be able to do for you, I would like to get a better measure of your character."
"Of course, Your Excellency," she said.
"Hmm." There was a brief stretch of silence that I figured to be confusion on Odo's end – "I" was probably being more polite than expected – before he said, "Now, I am given to understand that you are to my younger brother as Armaund Malfoy is to my older brother. Is that so?"
Elfleda bought time by asking, "You've met him?"
"A few times over the years."
In the meantime, I said, "Not really. Malfoy strikes me as William's personal wizard whereas I just solve problems."
"In the vaguest sense, perhaps. I assist the earl with matters he lacks a fuller perspective on, but I don't believe I aid him in the same was as Malfoy. I can't say any more as I have never asked Malfoy or the king what their relationship is."
"A fuller perspective?" Odo pressed.
"Information about habits, desires, perspective, behavior, and so on," she said. I quickly listed off the various things I'd done for Robert in particular, mostly as a reminder, and she went on to say, "The centaurs at Berkhamsted Forest, which he initially assumed were simple bandits, and the matter of which was resolved by declaring the Forest a Kingswood. Some supernatural occurrences around Samhain, sightings of ghosts and poltergeists, which weren't anything serious but that he finally had an explanation for. The string of killings in Cornwall, which finally ended with the destruction of a draugr. And the situation in York, where a demon came close to assassinating your brothers before it was stopped."
"Ah, yes, York. Where the demon was a supposed fallen angel of God."
Oh. Shit. Elfleda was going to kill me.
Oh, and I guess Odo wasn't clued into the Denarians, but that realization was rather overshadowed by thoughts of what Elfleda would to me for leaving out that bit of information.
"Supposed?" Elfleda asked, her voice remarkably calm.
"I'll explain later," I said hurriedly.
"I was not there," Odo said. "I have only secondhand accounts of that attack, from my brother exclusively, of you providing dire warnings and then only a brief sighting of a massive, unnatural bear."
"Do you believe your brother imagined this bear?" Elfleda asked.
"I believe he saw something monstrous, but whatever else may have happened he cannot corroborate."
"I see," Elfleda said. She didn't say anything more, which was good, because the thoughts going through my head that I might've voiced if I were there were definitely less than diplomatic.
"Is it fair to say, then, that where Armaund is more of an assistant, you are more of a hunter?" Odo asked.
"Hunter has some very particular implications. Some of what I have done can certainly be considered hunting, but I think the better way to put it would be 'guardian', or 'protector'," Elfleda said.
"A protector. Like the Fellowship of Saint Giles? I have never heard of Saint Giles founding such an order."
Good thing that was one of the topics we covered in prep.
"He did not found the Fellowship, Your Excellency. He is simply the patron, the one the Fellowship's ideals are drawn from."
"Yes. The patron of beggars, cripples, hermits, lepers. Outcasts."
"All that and more," Elfleda said. "He was a generous man, who yet sought no honors and recognition."
"And yet you are also a wizard," Odo said.
"And? Is there some contradiction, some restriction? Can a wizard not choose to work in God's name?"
"I suppose not. It just strikes me as strange." There was a bit of shuffling, and then, "Tell me about the Fellowship."
"There is not much to say. It is a simple order, small," Elfleda said, rephrasing what I'd outlined earlier. "Recruitment is by invitation, and is extended to those that match the values of the Fellowship, those that don't exactly fit in. As to what the Fellowship does, they are, as you said, protectors, wandering helpers."
"But you haven't wandered in close to a year. You live in Berkhamsted, alongside my brother."
"I have wandered. Cornwall, York, London. Just because I have a home doesn't mean I must stay there all the time."
"But you serve my brother."
"Is he not deserving of assistance?" Elfleda asked. "Is he not a person, a man, who faced problems that weren't human in nature? He asked and I helped."
"And is that all?"
"What do you want me to say? That I haven't asked for anything, that he hasn't helped me in return? I have and he has. So what?"
There was a brief, tense moment of silence where I assume Odo stared down my doppelganger, or the reverse. Then he broke the silence by asking, "As with your school?"
"As with the school," Elfleda agreed. "May I discuss it."
"It seems appropriate now. I understand you wish to establish a kind of cathedral school?" Odo asked.
I had no clue what that was, but it looked like Elfleda did because she said, "In a sense, though the idea is to open it to a broader group of students and not to direct them towards the Church, at least inherently."
"To what end then?"
"Literacy. Natural philosophy. Education. A greater understanding of the world leads to a greater appreciation of everything within and around it as much as it aids in work. And the school will teach many skills which could then be put to use in a number of practical professions: scribe, engineer, architect, and so on. And beyond, to provide a more comprehensive education to those that would rule."
"Such as the nobility?"
"Yes, much like the cathedral schools founded by the decree of Charlemagne."
What?
"You're going to need to explain that to me when you get back," I muttered.
"Are you looking for funding, then, or a royal charter?"
"Nothing like that," Elfleda said. "I would like your aid. To spread the word and build interest in the school, in drawing from its students, in sending some."
"And that is all you are asking for? Verbal support?" Odo asked.
"Yes," Elfleda said. I asked her to ask about funding if he seemed like he might come around to it, and I took her silence as an answer.
"And your magic? Will you be teaching that as well?" Odo asked, his tone a little off.
"It depends."
"On what?" Odo asked.
"On whether they have the potential. Not everyone is born with the capacity to be capable with magic, just like not everyone is born with a good singing voice."
"Mmm." I finally heard some sipping, and assumed it was Odo. "I will speak with some of my vassals and my brothers in the clergy, and consider your proposal. Unfortunately, I won't have an answer for you before my brother leaves for home, though I may when he returns."
I frowned. That sounded like a polite "fuck-off." Like the kind of reply you'd get at the end of a first-round interview where you're told they'll call you back and then your phone never rings for six months straight.
Or so I'm told, anyway; I never had to go through that.
"Of course. Thank you for your time then, Your Excellency," Elfleda said.
"Likewise."
There was the shuffling of chairs, the rustling of clothes, the opening and closing of doors, and the padding of footsteps. I kept the illusion going right up until my own door opened and closed. Then I stopped running power through the figurine, and the mirror-me was replaced by Elfleda.
"That sounded like a rejection," I said, taking Elfleda's figurine when she offered it.
"It was," she said. "From what I saw Odo is a rather ambitious and avaricious man, far from the ideal image of a man of the cloth."
I grunted. "So that's it, dead end with him?"
"I did not say that," she said. "I doubt he is a man you could sway with entreaties and pleas. He would likely demand tasks of you for his favor, tasks I am not certain you would agree with. No, he seems like a man who is better off threatened."
"Uh-huh. And how am I supposed to threaten one of the most powerful men in England again, particularly in a way that gets him to do what I want?" I asked.
"It's simple, in principle. You find a secret he desperately wishes to conceal and then hold it over him."