Scriostóir - 8

Ealdgyđ looked at the man standing at attention in front of her. As she did, she tapped one black nail against her lips pensively, eventually breaking the silence by saying, “You are aware of what you are asking?”

Godric nodded. “I am. It is time for me to face my demon and deal with him. When he slew his family in his bid for power he also murdered my sister. It has taken me this long to find him. I have no intention of letting him wander free any longer.”

Shaking her head so that her thick black hair spread for a moment like the wings of the raven she was in her other form, she said, “He is quite powerful, a formidable Scriostóir.”

“I am not without power of my own, as I am certain min campealdor, excuse me, mo ceannasaí has told you.”

“Either one works, I speak Old English as well as Gaelic,” Ealdgyđ told him with a smile. “And yes, you come quite highly recommended. I suppose the question is how you will ingratiate yourself into his life. He must know who you are and may recognize you even after thirteen centuries.”

Godric shook his head. “When we last saw each other I was a mere boy of fourteen years.”

“I see. You don’t look all that much older now. What on earth was your sin?” Ealdgyđ knew the answer but wanted to hear it from the young man’s lips.

“A lying tongue,” Godric admitted. “I was young, a callow youth of three and twenty then , and allowed myself to be influenced by those who were bent on using me to entrap their enemies. One of the enemies caught me in a lie that would have been the cause of his death had he believed it. He slew me even as I persisted in saying it was the truth. Therefore,” he smiled, “I was given the choice all of us are. I had no interest in suffering eternally for my stupidity.”

“A wise choice, in my estimation, but then I am prejudiced.” Pointing to the chair on the other side of her desk, Ealdgyđ waited for Godric to be seated before saying, “The question still remains as to what trick you are going to use to get close to Cerdic. The man is no fool. He has no friends and few weaknesses. He’s asexual or at least has no known sexual contacts, lives in a private home in the West Village in New York City, travels often, always alone, is extremely manipulative, and has, believe it or not, never killed anyone by his own hand that we are aware of.”

“He does have one weakness, young people. He uses them for much of his information gathering and they are always kids who are throwaways.”

“I’m not quite certain if that would be considered a weakness or an asset. Everyone of them that we know of, both past and present, adores him and would do anything for him despite the fact that he can be very severe in his punishments should they foul up in any way.”

“As it should be. A boy does not become a man by being coddled.”

Ealdgyđ lifted an eyebrow at that comment but refrained from saying anything. “Are you thinking of trying to become one of his boys?”

Godric nodded. “That’s my intention. He has lost, well not lost but sent one of his boys off for the long term, and presumably might need someone to replace him. I have skills that he could use, and I can pass for sixteen if necessary, one of the perks as they say of being smaller in height than most men of today.”

“You have given this some thought I see.”

“I’ve had many centuries to do that.”

“Very well, I shall give you whatever help is necessary. I would presume you will not be using your given name. It is a bit distinctive.”

“No. I will become Rick Ward. I sincerely doubt he will associate that with Godric Aylward.”