We continued down the road towards Callenden – although it was a toss up if Callenden was a large town or a small city.  The definition of either settlement was a bit hazy – so I decided to call it a large town in my head.  Callenden was surrounded by a wall of fieldstone and mortar, about twelve feet tall, with occasional watch towers and battlements here and there to give the guards good vantage points and a tactical advantage in case of an attack.  The city gates were a pair of large wooden doors two wagons wide, guarded by about six men and women.  The doors were still open – and from what Fionn had said earlier, would likely be open until the sun set, around mid evening – what I would probably have called around 8pm. 

 

                I had been musing for the last half hour about names – more specifically my names, and whether or not either Jeffrey or Cassandra were still appropriate, or if I needed something else… I liked Cass.  It felt good, and right – but Cassandra didn’t… Either the trauma I had gone through soiled it for me, or I had simply outgrown it in the time between then and now.  Jeffrey was closer – but it wasn’t right anymore either.  It felt like it was close – but it didn’t allow me to accept the female part of my past and my self, and I had promised to never bottle her up again.  No, I needed something different – and powerful - that spoke to me, and acknowledged both aspects of my new self.

 

                “Lad, get your head into the game.”  Fionn muttered lowly, shaking me from my reverie.  “I’ll do the talking at the gate – you’ll be my squire, and these ladies are travelling with us for safety.  From here on out, consider this dangerous territory, if not enemy territory, until we know we are safe.”

 

                “Aye, Fionn.  Sorry.  I was distracted by my problems.”

 

                “Well, let’s not make losing your head one of them, alright?”

 

                I smiled at his grim humor.  “Agreed.”

 

                We approached the gates, and had to wait behind a merchant’s wagon, laden with goods.  The guards were searching it – probably for smuggled goods or something similar – and it had taken some time.  Soon the merchant was able to pass into the town, and we approached.

 

                One of the guards looked us over, and frowned – we were obviously not the normal brand of travelers.  “What’s your business here in Callenden?”

 

                “I am Sir Fionn Ballantine, Vigilant of the Twins, and this young man is my apprentice.  These ladies, and the reechi are travelers from Enders Hollow, coming to the city to trade.  We escorted them here for safety from bandits and wild animals – which thankfully did not harass us.  We seek to stay at the Inn of the Spotted Toad, and perhaps do a few days business in the city before we take our leave.”

 

                The guard pulled himself up straighter when Fionn announced himself as a Knight and a Vigilant, and smoothed out his rumpled uniform.  The other guards – both men and women – stood straighter as well, trying to look a bit more professional.  “Aye, Sir Ballantine, and you and your party will be welcome, once the matter of the gate tax is paid.  A silver for you and the lad, and three coppers for each of the ladies; one for the reechi.”  The guard captain noticed Jeffrey, and watched him closely while they talked.

 

                “The gate tax seems unusually high.  Is there a new levy?”

 

                “Aye.  Prince Michael wishes to improve the walls and city defences, and to raise more troops, due to rumors of raids from the lands to the east.  Some are saying that several clans have joined forces to try and conquer more surrounding lands, at their neighbors expense.  He claims the defences and troops are to protect the city.  It has been such for six months, at least.”

 

                “And has there been evidence of such raids?”  Sir Fionn asked.

 

                “Aye, Sir Ballantine.  Several caravans have been found burnt out, raided – and their members dead or taken.  We suspect some of them have been taken as chattel, or worse.  ‘Tis said that slavers sometimes operate out of Port Conventry, and Prince Michael and Queen Hemlock fear the worst.”

 

                “Thank you, Ser.  You have my thanks.”  Sir Fionn handed the guard 5 silver coins.  “This is for the gate tax, and for you and your comrades to have a drink on us, later.  Thank you for the information.  Perhaps my path led here for a reason.”

 

                “Aye, well if the slavers and raiders have a pair of Vigilants on their tail, then their days are numbered!”  The guard captain laughed.  “You may enter, as long as you swear to keep the King’s peace.” 

 

                We all swore “I do,” and then entered the city gates.  I could feel the guard captain’s eyes on me as we entered the city and walked on.

                                 

                “Sir Fionn?  Do I look like the King?”  I asked.

 

                “There is a… certain family resemblance, yes.”

 

                “I think the city guard noticed.”

 

                “I’m sure they did, lad.  You didn’t think we were going to escape detection completely, did you?”

 

                “No, I guess not.  Does it change anything?”

 

                “No, Lad.  Just keep walking.”

 

                I nodded, and did as Fionn suggested.

 

                The first thing I noticed was that the city smelled – not badly, but a constant scent that informed me they didn’t have modern sanitation yet.  I knew I would get used to it in time, but it was a bit jarring.  The streets were paved in cobblestones, and were fairly clean except for a thin trickle of filth in the gutters, and the occasional pile of horse or donkey poop in the road that hadn’t yet been swept up.  The streets had sidewalks, which were paved with fancy bricks and looked rather nice, and the houses and businesses had their first floor made with fieldstone and mortar, with any higher floors made of wood and plaster.  Most houses had wooden shingles, although some fancier houses had stone or terra cotta shingles, and some houses had glass windows with shutters – though they were few and far between; the rest made do with just shutters.  It seemed Callenden was far better off financially than Ender’s Hollow, which made good sense.  This would be where most of the businesses were, where the guild halls would be located, and so forth. 

 

                We walked through the streets for about fifteen minutes, passing shops and homes on both sides of the street – Sir Fionn seemed to know where he was going, so I quietly followed him.

 

                “Is the Spotted Toad a nice inn?”  Alyssa asked.

 

                “’Tis neither the nicest, nor cleanest in the city, actually Alyssa.  But it is the quietest and most discreet, and we’re unlikely to have any altercations while staying there.  I know the innkeeper – a man named Stefano Rossi, from Madragoor.  He was born in Port Coventry, and migrated west to live here.  He’s a good man, and he owes me a few favors.”

 

                “And you trust him?”  Rachel asked.

 

                “Aye, as much as I trust any man.”  Sir Fionn replied.  “A long time ago, I saved his life, and that of his girlfriend – who is now his wife and mother of his children.  Her name is Lucia, and she’s quite pretty – although she does tend to overfeed her guests.  She’s a strong woman, too.  I’ve stayed with them before.  I believe we can trust them.  They’ll also have news of what’s going on in the city.”

 

                “That’s good.”  Rachel replied. 

 

                “Aye.”

 

                The Spotted Toad was located midway down Litarea Street, on the north side of the road.  It was a three story structure with shuttered windows (many of them open) and slate tiles or shingles on the roof.  The sign proclaiming the business had a large picture of a toad covered in spots, swimming in a beer mug.  I snickered a little – it reminded me of Hypnotoad from the television show Futurama, back on Earth.    

 

                “I love the sign.”  I laughed.  “All hail the hypnotoad.”

 

                “Yeah, it does look like him, doesn’t it?”  Rachel giggled.  I smiled, hearing it – it sounded like she was having a good time.

 

                “I take it this hypnotoad is a creature from your world?”  Alyssa asked.  “Is it dangerous?”

 

                “It was a monster from stories.  It could mind control people, and make them worship it and work for it as slaves, but it did no harm to them physically.  It was a tale to amuse children.”  I replied. 

 

                “Oh… It sounds like an interesting creature, if a bit dangerous.”

 

                “I guess so.” I laughed.  I had no idea how to explain television and cartoons to Alyssa, so I just let the matter drop for now.

 

                “Come, inside.  We can chatter safely in there – not on the streets.”

 

                “Aye, sorry Fionn.”  I replied.  We went inside.

 

                Inside, the Inn of the Spotted Toad looked much like the Emerald Candle – dimly lit with oil lanterns or candles, with wooden furniture – some booths and a mixture of tables with chairs or benches.  There were a collection of two or three barmaids, and two people – an older man and a younger man, probably his son - behind the bar serving drinks.  The tables looked well used, and worn smooth – and the floor was covered in rushes, likely to collect spills and prevent stains upon the wooden floor.  A set of stairs to the left of the bar accessed the second floor, and we could see a balcony on the second floor open to the ceiling, showing the doors of some of the inn’s rooms.  A large wooden chandelier hung from the center of the second storey, lighting the main dining room with what appeared to be at least six dozen candles upon it.

 

                As we entered, the older man’s face lit up.  “Sir Ballantine, you glorious bastard!  Why didn’t you send word you were coming?  I’d have gotten the good wine out!”

 

                “It’s good to see you again, too, Stefano.  I’m afraid I didn’t have the chance.  My party and I have business in Callenden, and we may be several days, so we’ll have plenty of time to talk and tell tales.”

 

                “Aye, and who might these folks be?  Two twin-souled ladies, a reechi – and a young knight?  A new apprentice?”

 

                “Aye.  This is Tika Calhoun and Alyssa Saranel of Ender’s Hollow, Rachel Wilson of Earth, and… lad?” Fionn replied.

 

                “Geoffrey Castiel Fowler.  Call me Cass, if you will.  I am also from Earth.”

 

                “Well, that explains the uncanny resemblance to the King, I dare say.”  Stefano laughed.  “You mean to shake things up, don’t you Fionn?”

 

                “On the contrary, my friend.  I would be content if we were able to do our business and simply be on our way.  Cass has some memento’s of his grandmothers to give the king, and wishes to speak with him and tell him some personal things from Lady Fowler, that she said before her death.  To give the King peace before the gods take him.  I fear that we may become embroiled in court intrigue if we are not lucky.”

 

                “Indeed.  Intrigue at court has become the norm these days.  Messengers from Glairmorgan lands have been often seen in the halls of the castle, as have messengers from other clan holds.  Something is moving behind the scenes, Fionn, and it’s not just these damned raiders.  It’s something else.  People are muttering about rumors of war in the east, and are worried it will spread.”

 

                “That is bad news, indeed.  We could use some rooms, my friend, if you have any – and your discretion about who you tell that we’re here.”

 

                “Aye, and you’ll have both.  You’ve met my son, Lucio?”  He said proudly, motioning to the handsome 17 year old boy next to him.  He had black curly hair and brown eyes, like his father, and their complexion was tinted rather olive in color – like that of many Madragans. 

 

                “Aye – but I haven’t seen the lad in three years!  You’ve grown big and strong, Lucio, like your father.”

 

                “Thank you, Sir Ballantine.”  Lucio replied.  “Da tells me stories of you saving him and Ma all the time.”

 

                “Well, I’m sure they’ve grown in the telling.”  Fionn winced.

 

                “Aye, I may have embellished the tales a bit here and there, but not so badly you can’t recognize the truth of it.  It makes for a good tale.”

 

                “Aye – and by the end of it, you’ll have me walking on water…”

 

                “You mean you CAN’T?”  Stefano laughed.  “Come, I’ll take you to your rooms.  I assume one for the ladies, and one for you and Sir Fowler?”

 

                “Aye, that will do well enough for a few days, unless there are any complaints?”  Fionn asked.

 

                We looked at each other, and shrugged.  The sleeping arrangements didn’t seem like a big deal, so we all nodded in agreement. 

 

                “Very well, then.  Bring your gear, and I’ll tell Lucia you’re here while you unpack.  Do you want your usual room?”

 

                “Aye, if it’s available.”

 

                “It is.”  Stefano guided us up the stairs and to the second floor… it seemed the third floor was reserved for Stefano and his family, and wasn’t open to the public.  The rooms we were given were decent sized, as inn rooms seemed to go – with two beds, and a night table inbetween them.  A small lamp was on the table, and a hearth was in the room to allow for warmth and light in colder times.  A shuttered set of windows was above the night table.  It looked pretty generic, and fairly comfortable.  The two rooms looked fairly similar. 

 

                “Serra Calhoun, if you like I can bring in a Reechi sized bed for you so that you have a place to sleep.  We don’t have any Reechi sized rooms here… they usually go to other inns in the city, sized for their folk.”

 

                “That would be nice, thank you!”  Tika replied.  “I’d much rather stay with my friends.”

 

                “Very well then.  I’ll have it brought up soon.  If these rooms are suitable, Fionn, I’ll leave you and your band to relax and unburden yourself from the road.  Will you be needing laundry or baths?”

 

                “Probably yes to both, for all of us.”  Fionn replied.

 

                “I’ll see that water is boiled for baths soon – likely after dinner would be best – and I’ll have my daughter Kaitrin come and collect your clothes to be laundered at the same time.”

 

                “How is Kaitrin?”  Fionn asked.  “Last time I saw her she was but ten or eleven years old.”

 

                “She’s growing like a weed, and is just now blooming into womanhood.  She discovered boys about two months ago and has been giving me grey hairs ever since.”

 

                Fionn laughed.  “Family is a treasure.  Cherish them, my friend.”

 

                Stefano smiled, and nodded.  “I do, every day.”  He left us to return downstairs to the bar, so that we could unpack.

 

                “Castiel?  Is that the name you have chosen, then lad?”

 

                “Yes… It feels right.  It means ‘Sheild of God’ back home, and it also hearkens back to Cassandra – the name I gave myself when I was much younger - while still being a man’s name.  It feels right.”

 

                “Cass?” said Rachel.  “It sounds awesome.  Are you a fan of Supernatural?”

 

                “It… might… have had something to do with my choice.”  I laughed.  “Castiel was badass.”

 

                “It’s nice.  Nice to meet you, Castiel.”  Rachel said, holding out her hand… 

 

I bent over and kissed the back of her hand – and honest to gods, she blushed beet red… Ha!  I never knew I could do that to people!  It felt good.

 

“Aye, Castiel sounds like a nice name… it sounds like music a bit.”  Alyssa interjected.  “Thank you for sharing your new name with us.  Does this mean we should not call you Geoffrey anymore?”

 

“Nah.  If we’re being formal, call me by my full name – but if we’re just being casual call me Cass.  If I feel it sounds awkward or I need to change it, I’ll let you know.”

 

                Alyssa smiled.  “Alright, Cass.”   Tika nodded too.  “It’s a nice name.”

 

                “Thanks.  I appreciate it.  Now we should go unpack.”

 

                “Aye.”  Fionn spoke up.  “Let’s not dilly dally for too long.  Dinner, baths, and talk await us.”

 

                “Just one moment.”  I replied, taking Rachel aside.  “Rachel, do you have any of that hair removal ointment, that I could use?  I’ll replace it, I promise.”

 

                “Sure.”  Rachel smiled.  “I’ll get it after dinner for you, and tell you how to use it.  Do you want the hair growth tonic too?”

 

                “Not now, I think.  I’m not ready for longer hair just yet. Thanks for asking.”

 

                “You’re welcome, Cass.  See you soon.”

 

                “You too,” I said, giving her a hug.  “See you soon.”

 

                I went and joined Fionn in our room, and took off my armor and gambeson, with a little help from my mentor, and splashed some water on my face to tidy up from a small basin in the corner.  I noticed there were no chamberpots in the room.  “Um, Fionn.  Where do we do our business?”

 

                “There’s a communal bathroom at the end of the hall – one for gents, and one for ladies.  It has some toilets, a bath large enough for two, and a large sink with a mirror.  The city has sewers beneath it, that wash the filth away so there’s no need to fling a chamberpots contents out the window – like they do in some towns.”

 

                “Oh… Okay.”  I busied myself with removing my pack and laying out some clean clothes for after my coming bath, and sat down on the bed to rest a moment.  The mattress seemed to be packed with rags – like a futon – and seemed fairly comfortable.  I didn’t see any sign of bugs, although there were signs of mice – an unavoidable hazard in this medieval world.  I’d seen some cats downstairs – presumably they controlled the mice population in the Inn.  I hoped they were friendly – I liked cuddly cats.

 

                “So, Cass.  How are you feeling about tomorrow?”  Fionn asked.

 

                “Positive, but wary.  I have high hopes – but I’m also kind of expecting things to go completely awry and to say I’m stressed would be an understatement.  I am looking forward to meeting my Grandfather, though.”

 

                “I hope the meeting is everything you hope it to be, lad.”

 

                “As do I.” 

 

                Once we had taken a moment to unburden ourselves and rest, we got up and went next door, to find Tika, Rachel and Alyssa chatting quietly in their room, their travelling gear removed and set aside like ours. 

 

                “Ladies?”  Fionn began.  “Would you like to join us downstairs for dinner?”

 

                A chorus of “Yes’s” and “Aye’s” was our reply, and so we all descended downstairs as a group.  Tika rode on Rachel’s shoulder, so she wouldn’t risk someone stepping on her tail. 

 

                We took a large table – big enough for six people – and sat.  Rachel sat across from me, next to Alyssa, and Fionn was to my right, with a chair inbetween us.  Tika sat on the table, there not being a chair suitable for her size.  A few moments later, an attractive barmaid sidled up to our table to take our orders.  She seemed overly friendly, and I couldn’t help but notice she paid me what I thought was too much attention, just like Rachel had said.

 

                “Welcome to the Spotted Toad, Ser’s and Serra’s.  Today’s special is roast quail with honeyed chestnut stuffing and a side of seasonal vegetables, some fresh bread with jam and butter, and a slice of Serra Lucia’s pecan pie.  I’m Carson, and I’ll be your waitress tonight.”

 

                “Thanks, Carson.  I’ll have the special.  Do you have a honeyed ale?”  I asked.

 

                “Aye, milord.  Unless you prefer wine?”

 

                I grumbled at being called milord again, and Alyssa giggled.  “The ale is fine, Carson.”

 

                We all ordered, and as Carson left to get our drinks, Alyssa, with a silly grin on her face turned to me.  “Would you prefer ‘Milady?’  Milord doesn’t seem to sit so well with you.”

 

                I chuckled.  Milady?  Eh... not much different than Milord, really  “It’s not that, Alyssa… Where Rachel and I come from there are few if any lords and ladies – we’re not used to being addressed in that way… most people are just people, neither better nor worse than others.  There are social classes, yes, but they’re more controlled by how much wealth or education you have, and not family bloodlines.”

 

                “Tell that to the Clintons or the Kennedy’s.”  Rachel snorted.  “We have nobles in our society, but no one admits to it.  There are family lineages of power and wealth – but they don’t come with a title, because our land has no King or Queen.  We elect our leaders every four years, and our head of state – called a President – has to run for re-election like anyone else, and they can only serve two terms and no longer.  I think it’s to prevent too much power being placed into the hands of one person for too long.”

 

                “I guess I just got told.”  I remarked.  “Still, I didn’t consider myself special before.  Now, with being a Vigilant – something I earned through my own labor, and not by birth – I feel a bit differently.”

 

                “Well, I’m afraid the people of our world won’t make that distinction, Cass.”  Alyssa replied.  “You are descended from the blood of Kings, and here, that makes you special.  People are required to show you respect and reverence – if they do not, you could have them flogged, or challenge them to a duel for slighting your honor.  You could have them arrested or even killed.  That is power, and they are paying respect to that power, and respect to the bloodline that fostered it.”

 

                “Hrmm… Well, very well, Alyssa.  I’ll do my best to cease grumbling about it.  I’m not quite ready to be called Milady, however.  Milord will have to do.”

 

                “Very well, Milord.”  She joked.

 

                We hushed as Carson returned and got us our drinks and food, and soon we were eating.  The quail was tasty, and not even a bit gamey, and the vegetables were excellent, although I couldn’t identify half of them.  The pie was absolutely amazing, and the honeyed ale wasn’t half bad – although it wasn’t as good as Gideon’s ale at the Emerald Candle, in Ender’s Hollow.  Oh – and the cats were very friendly.  Tika shared part of her quail with an old one eared Tomcat that Carson told us was named “Kip” and now Kip was sleeping on the chair near Tika, purring happily.    

               

                “After we finish our dinner and have a drink or two more, we should bathe and get our clothing ready for Kaitrin to launder.  Cass, you should bathe first – and I will bathe when you’re done.  Ladies, I suppose you can go in any order you wish.” Fionn remarked.  “Once we’re cleaned, we should ready ourselves for bed or quiet talking – tomorrow will be a very big day, and we’ll need to be well rested.”

               

                “I think it best if you bathed first, Fionn.  I intend to use some hair removal ointment on myself, and if you share the bathwater, it may have some unfortunate carry over if the water isn’t changed.  I do not think you wish to be bald, nor hairless as an egg.”

 

                Fionn nodded.  “As you wish, Cass. Thank you for the warning.”

                  

                We stayed downstairs for about an hour after dinner, enjoying the tunes played by a young minstrel playing on a stringed instrument called a cittern, and a young woman playing a pair of hand drums, whilst singing.  They were quite good, and had it been any other night, I would have enjoyed their music until the wee hours.  Still, we had a lot to do, so around 8pm or so I excused myself, and headed upstairs – after leaving a few silver coins for the performers, who nodded their thanks.  Fionn had been upstairs bathing for a while, so I figured he would be close to finished.  Rachel came upstairs with me, and gave my hand a squeeze of support. 

 

                “You know, this stuff lasts for two to three months.  No going back if you change your mind.”  She said.

 

                “I don’t plan on it, but thanks for the warning, Rachel.  What did it feel  like when you did it – I mean, get rid of your body hair and facial hair?”

 

                “Honestly?  Sensual and sexy.  It felt awesome.”

 

                “Huh.  Cool.”  I smiled, thinking about how I wouldn’t need to shave for quite a while.

 

                “Just remember, keep it on for 12 to 15 minutes, then wash it off as it begins to sting.”  Rachel reminded me.

 

                “Thanks, Rachel.  I’ll replace it, I promise.”

 

                “Don’t sweat it, doofus… I bought it with the money you gave me.”  She joked.  “I’ll be fine.”

 

                “Okay.  And Rachel?  Thank you.”

 

                “You’re welcome, Milady.”  She replied, with a twinkle in her eye.  “…Or Milord, if you prefer.”

 

                “Now you’re in on it too?  Please, Milord.  Honestly, I don’t know enough about LGBT issues to have the words, but I don’t feel female… I don’t feel completely male either.  I feel like something in between, but Male seems the closest description.”

 

                “I think the term is gender-fluid or non-binary.”  Rachel offered.

 

                “Well, the exact definition isn’t important – some of me is Cassandra, but a lot more of me is Jeffrey, so I feel a lot more male than anything else.  But I am making concessions to the Cassie part of me – part is getting rid of some of my hair, and part is my new name.  But inside, I’m still the dork you knew a week or two ago – into video games, wanting an adventure, and doing my best to just try to stay alive.  I might have been woke to a part of me I’d buried – but I’m still me… where it matters.”  I said, touching my chest, and my head.  “I’m still Jeff… but I’m also Cass.  It’s hard to explain.”

 

                Rachel pulled me into a hug, and gave me a squeeze.  “It’s okay, Cass.  You don’t have to be able to put it into words.  It’s enough that you know it, and you’re okay.  We all care about you – and whether you’re Cassandra, Jeffrey or Castiel it doesn’t matter.  Just be happy.”

 

                I hugged her back.  “I will.  Now, I should go have my bath – and you should have yours.”

 

                “Aye, I guess that’s true.  Take care, Cass.”  She released me, and smiled.

 

                “I will.  We’ll talk sometime tomorrow, okay?”

 

                “Okay – but I won’t hold it against you if you forget or don’t have time.  Tomorrow is for your grandfather.”

 

                “Thanks, Rachel.”

 

                I waved farewell, and went into the bathroom, passing the many stalls and heading for the bathing tub.  Sir Fionn was just stepping out of it, and was drying himself off on a large fluffy towel.  I couldn’t help but notice his body was covered in a map of scars – memories and mementoes of past battles and foes that had failed to kill him, some of them quite gruesome. 

 

                “Hey, Cass.”  He said.  “What?”

 

                “I just noticed the scars, Fionn.  I guess every warrior has them, after a while.” 

 

                “Aye, lad, that’s true… But the worst scars are the ones that don’t show – that you can’t see.  The ones in your heart and mind are the worst to receive, and I have my share of them as well.  This is the cost of duty.  We take the injuries in service to the weak and defenseless – so that they don’t have to.”

 

                I nodded, understanding.  “I think I understand.  Back home, soldiers returning from war sometimes had an illness we called PTSD.  I guess here, it would be called wrestling with inner demons – but it amounts to the same thing.  Injuries to the mind and the soul.  I hope you find peace from yours, in time.”

 

                “If not, I’ll take them to my grave.  I’ll be fine, lad – just try to take care of yourself for the next few days and I won’t earn any more grey hairs, if you understand my meaning.  Stay alive and healthy – that’s all I ask.”

 

                “Thanks.  Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

 

                “Aye, lad.  I’m done.”  He wrapped himself in the towel and left the bathroom – probably to get dressed in our room.

 

                I smirked… I guess I was a bit more shy – I had brought the clothes I intended to change into here with me… I didn’t think I’d have the courage to practically streak across the balcony above the Inn’s taproom to my room, while in plain view… it didn’t seem right.  I stripped off my clothes, and folded them, and took a look at the bottle of ointment Rachel had loaned me.  The ointment was a white color with a hint of grey, and smelled foul – and the jar was glass, sealed with a rubber seal and stopper.  I guess this was it?

 

                I applied the ointment all over me – my face, where I needed to shave, my body, my arms and my legs – everywhere except my head and between my legs.  It stunk to high heaven, and sat on my skin, looking white and goopy and kind of gross… and after about fifteen minutes, it began to sting.  I stepped into the lukewarm bathwater, and sighed as the goopy mess sloughed off – but it made a hell of a mess of the bathwater – the grey goopy foam floating on top was impregnated with partially dissolved hair and it looked and smelled disgusting.  Nevertheless, I got cleaned up – and washed my hair in the sink, not the tub, using a mechanical hand pump for cold water.  I used a bottle of Head and Shoulders shampoo from Earth I had brought with me, and some Irish Spring body wash, so I probably smelled clean and scented like a lord should too…  I felt amazing – and the feel of no body hair was just like Rachel said – sensual, sexy and kind of erotic.  I slipped out of the tub, and got dressed in my clean clothes, and brought my dirty ones to be laundered. 

 

                I gathered up the remainder of the jar of ointment – only about a third of it remained – to return to Rachel.  I knocked on Rachel’s door, and Alyssa opened it up, her face framed by her unbound brown hair. 

 

                “Hello, Cass… You smell nice.”

 

                “Thank you, Alyssa.  I was wondering, could you give Rachel this jar of ointment, and give her my thanks?”

 

                “Aye, with pleasure.  How does it feel?” She asked, with a bit of a smirk.

 

                “It feels good.”  I replied, blushing a little.  “Are you trying to tease me?”

 

                “Perhaps a little.”  She replied, smiling.  “I’ll let her know.  I hope you sleep well, Cass.”

 

                “Thank you – and you as well.”

 

                “I hope to.  I’m glad you are finding yourself.”

 

                “I am too, Alyssa.  Thank you for being my friend while I take this journey.”

 

                “It has been my pleasure.  Now you had best go, before tongues in the common room wag!”

 

                I looked down to see a few of the barmaids watching the conversation between Alyssa and I – and I went beet red.  “Of course.  We wouldn’t want any rumors to spread.”

 

                “Aye, Milord.  Now, goodnight.”  She replied, gently, and closed the door.

 

                I muttered under my breath, and headed back to my room, closing the door once I’d stepped inside.  “I think I preferred the road.  Too many tongues will be wagging by tomorrow morning.”

 

                “And now you see the truth of it.”  Fionn replied.  “I expect our presence is known by the seneschal of the court, at the very least – and possibly by the Queen or Prince Michael as well.  Your arrival will be no surprise at the palace tomorrow – although your identity might be.  They may assume you’re the descendent of a bastard spawned by King Colin – and to be fair, they’re not wrong…  The question is what do they intend to do about it.  That decision will be what shapes tomorrow, and many days afterwards, I fear.”

 

                “I guess so…  Then although it’s not completely out of our hands, too much depends on what others do – is that the issue?”

 

                “Aye, lad.  That’s it completely.  Keep your guard up, and do your best.  If we must, we’ll fight our way out.  That’s the best I can suggest at the moment.”

 

                “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

 

                “Aye, neither do I, lad.  Neither do I.”

 

                I put my clothing in the laundry basket Kaitrin left for us earlier, and readied myself for bed, but before I could crawl under the sheets, Fionn stopped me – with an unexpected gift.  A large leather-bound tome.

 

                “What’s this, Fionn?”  I asked.

 

                “’Tis our faith’s book of prayers and parables, the teachings of our gods and goddesses.  It’s called the Book of the Divine Familia, and it’s the holy book of our faith.  Inside you’ll find the rituals of blessing babies, holding weddings and funerals, how to perform a blessed leavetaking, and other rituals, as well as the ancient history of our peoples – of humanity – until we fought for our freedom from the forces of Hserin and spread across all of Mercia.  You’ll need to read it to finished learning your Ceremony power.  This knowledge gives you the ability to act as a priest in matters of faith and the flock.  I wanted you to have it.”

 

                I looked at the proffered book – it looked like a medieval hand-written bible – and I took it reverently.  “Thank you, Fionn.  I will treasure this.”

 

                “I’m glad, lad.  I hope it serves you well for many years to come.  The covers and pages are treated in alchemicals to resist scorching or burning, and to resist water damage, but I wouldn’t toss it into any fires, or a lake, to prove it.  It should last you until the end of your life, if it is well cared for.”

 

                “Thank you very much, Fionn.”  I said once more. 

               

                “You’re very welcome, lad.  I know you’ll do me proud, and the gods proud too.  Good luck tomorrow.”

 

                “Thanks.”  I held the book carefully – reverently – and placed it in my pack, next to Grandma’s journal.  Just like that, it became one of my most precious possessions.

 

                Fionn blew out the lamp, and we went to sleep.  He fell asleep quickly, but for myself, sleep was a long time in coming.  Stress and tension about tomorrow, mixed with the strange erotic feeling of no hair on my arms and legs was a confusing mélange of sensations, and eventually I passed out, and slept fitfully.