Of Pride and Power - 6. Chapter 6: “Make other people come to you”

We walked throughout the night deeper into the woods. I didn’t know where I was going, but Francis did. After six hours of continuous walking, we reached a small English village just as the sun rose.

Francis escorted me to a simple thatch roof cottage, where he knocked three times, then once. There was no response from the door.

He then whispered, the familiar words, “The last shall be first.”

The door opened and a blond-haired teenage boy with mischievous oval green eyes motioned for us to enter. Inside the home, it was a simple dwelling with dirt floors and a central stove. A kettle with hot water was boiling alongside a cauldron of porridge with bits of bacon.

“So, you’re Eli Tudor,” the boy looked me up and down, “Is it true that you got working boy and girl’s parts?”

Francis punched him in the shoulder, “Puck, Lord Eli may not be used to us asking questions like that?”

This boy is called Puck, like the mischievous fairy character from Midsummer Night’s Dream, who roofied everyone into falling in lust with each other. In contrition at being admonished by Francis, he handed me a steaming cup of tea, I hesitated to take it. I don’t know how much of my reality and this universe are tied together. As far as I know, fairies did not exist, despite what Walt Disney’s campaign of “believe” for Tinkerbell might make young kids think. If fiction and reality are juxtaposed here, then anything could be possible.

After several minutes of him holding the cup, Puck asked indignantly, “What is my tea not good enough for your noble sensibilities?”

While most people would lie or make up something, I was beyond being nice at this point, “I am worried that you put something into it. I heard from a story that a boy named Puck liked to make people fall in lust with one another through magic.”

Silence filled the room as Francis and Puck stared at each other, then at me. Puck began laughing and crying as he swished the tea in his hands, causing a small puddle to form at his feet.

When Puck regained his composure, he placed the cup down and hugged me. It was oddly affectionate and I could feel acceptance from the boy.

“You are the person, we’ve been waiting for,” he mumbled as he nuzzled my neck, “I don’t do that to everyone, just assholes, who think they are better than everyone else due to their chastity. It’s not magic, just some plants and liquids that make them aroused. I didn’t force them to do anything. I can also use my knowledge to make people feel other things too.”

Francis was more circumspect, “Lord Eli, how were you able to know Puck’s unique skill?”

There was no point in hiding the truth, I had to make a leap of faith, “I remember another life and another world, where everything that is happening now was our history. However, various things are not the same or completely different. I believe the Catholic church likely is using knowledge from that world due to the presence of flying machines and iron cannon carriages on battlefields. In my memory, those weapons would not be built for several hundred years from now.”

Nodding at my secret, Francis asked, “Your skill is not limited to one area as you possess knowledge of everything that will come.”

I shook my head denying him, “It’s not so simple. In my reality, fair folk were just fantasy stories and Puck was a central character in one of those stories that will be created in a few years. Even more important, Lord Eli as you know me did not exist. A girl with the name of Elizabeth should be the child of Anne Boleyn and the future ruler of England. My ability applied to this world gets blurred between fact and fiction.”

Francis shook disbelievingly, “That can’t be true, you insinuated that Plato had a male lover. You also mentioned Sappho’s poetry concerning her female lovers during our lessons. If love between the same gender can exist, then surely some fair folk existed in your world.”

That was a big revelation that he opened. We were not using the same definitions, while the word could mean both, under different circumstances. How could a derogatory concept used in the 20^th century be claimed by a group of people in the past that represent the same group of individuals? The connections with my words seemed too apparent without some outside influence.

I cleared my throat trying to appear calm, “When you say fair folk, are you talking about people with same gender or multiple gender attraction, not a magical being with abilities greater than normal people.”

“Only the fair folk have hidden knowledge, which is where our abilities are derived. However, not all fair folk have hidden knowledge and no two fair folks have the same knowledge,” Francis answered, then punctuated, “However, your knowledge appears to overlap with mine and perhaps even Puck’s knowledge.”

I shook my head in disagreement, but Puck went to a corner of his cottage and brought over a wooden tray of flowers, plants, mushrooms, and berries.

“Can you tell us what the uses and effects of these items are?” Puck earnestly asked with anticipation.

I frowned at him, “Sorry, I never studied biology, chemistry, or whatever. My lover in the other world wasn’t a nature lover either.”

Puck lowered his head in defeat, but before he removed his trove, Francis spoke, “Was all your knowledge gained from the future world you came from? Your use of Greek and Latin were vernacular and contemporary in structure to those present at the times of Homer, Plato, Ovid, and Tacitus.”

I considered that and conceded, “My knowledge of languages was something new that I discovered when presented by books from Lord Ashley. I knew certain things from historical books, but I was able to visualize subjects fluently after a few minutes of concentration.”

Puck brightened and set his tray down before my feet in anticipation, “Then all you need is time to understand things.”

I was worried that I would disappoint them, but I sat down and attempted to focus on the items. My gaze focused on a flower with white petals with a red-purple stem. The leaves were green and triangular. I took hold and smelled it, it had an odd musty smell, like mice droppings that I remembered from my old house. In a flash, I knew what this was.

“Hemlock, it’s a poisonous plant that is deadly with consumption. A concentration of six to eight leaves worth will be enough to cause death for humans. It can cause paralysis and motor function issues in lower doses. Hemlock extract were used as an herbal remedy for breathing issues and some form of anxiety.”

I was shocked that I knew all of that from just looking at the plant. I’ve heard of hemlock but have never seen it or smelled its earthy aroma. For the next hour, I just sat there identifying plants and mushrooms until Puck’s entire tray was known to me. He had a wide collection of poisons, stimulants, and hallucinogenic material. I was impressed with this seemingly innocent boy’s deadly talent.

With my identification task completed, Puck hugged me again, “I was right you are the one we’ve been waiting for. The last shall be first!”

I am used to weird abilities from reading manga, so it’s time to organize things out. To summarize my abilities so far, I can speak and write in any language, I have a perfect memory of things I’ve learned in my prior life, and I can access information about subjects or objects through direct interaction with them. It also seems like other people have parts of this knowledge, like Puck, but they are specialized in one area. Magic in this world then was based on knowledge, meaning this reality was bound by similar laws of the physical world that I was used to. I needed to know more about everyone’s abilities and skills.

Before anyone else could speak, I asked, “How many other fair folks are around here? What are their abilities?”

Francis answered, “Five, not including you, my lord. When I sent word of your arrival at Denny’s manor, a group of us gathered just in case we had to assist in your escape from my uncle. Only Puck and I have abilities, the other three are simply here for support and will arrive here at sunset. Puck knows various natural material’s effects on the body. My ability is knowledge of people, allowing me to use the ancient knowledge from various people to guide my present actions.”

Not as good as I had hoped, but six people was better than three. Francis’ ability is useful for experience and analysis of human actions. Essentially, he’s a student of human psychology, making him an ideal spy. I did wonder how far his ability applied and to what limitations beyond ancient Greeks and Romans, but my mind was swirling with analyzing the resources at hand. In various situations, the combination of a poison expert and a spymaster would be a perfect combination. It makes sense why they are working together, but I could sense no attraction between them due to the difference in personalities. Where Francis was stoic and cerebral, Puck was affectionate and emotional. They complemented each other.

Glancing over at Puck, I asked, “How many people can you incapacitate with the material you have in stock?”

“Maybe a hundred, if the incapacitation isn’t meant to be permanent. We also have a supply of plant oils, saltpeter, and a bag of gunpowder that could do more damage if we had time to build the device Oberon showed us. I need to make some Aqua Fortis with the local forge,” Puck stared in the corner, probably making some calculations.

His supply of incapacitation material was within my expectations, but his casual knowledge of basic explosives was outside my expectations. Neither Jack nor I had read The Anarchist Cookbook, but it was one of those things that we considered. Even as a manga reader, the idea of a book dedicated to causing disruption and making explosives to be used against assholes was intriguing, but it was theoretical at best. We wouldn’t join one of the far-right or far-left groups with their obsessive desires, nor wish to be on the FBI watchlist for anyone buying that book off Amazon. It doesn’t sound like Puck needed my knowledge in that area, but I didn’t mind assisting.

An idea popped into my mind with the information I had gathered, “How long would you need to make the explosive? How big is the blast area?”

Francis frowned realizing what I was proposing, “My lord Eli, we should withdraw. They do not know you are still alive and wouldn’t be hunting for you. If we draw their attention, then they will actively seek you out.”

While his words were logical for my safety as a person, running away was not the best option as the future ruler of this country. When your opponent believed they had won without confirmation, it would be the perfect time to strike a harder blow, since they would be at their most relaxed. History has taught that lesson countless times, including the recent Russian military collapses. What I lacked were people to help me in such a spectacle, which was solved by this group of fair folks. Even a group of six could take out a force of a hundred men if the plan was right. I needed to convince Francis, Puck, and their friends that my idea was worth doing.

At sunset, three young men joined us in the cottage. They were triplets with identical features and nearly identical clothing. I’d consider them cubs in training if I had to describe their appearance, slightly muscular with stubble, but they had boyish features and short curly brown hair. Puck offered them all a few kisses and gentle caresses, while Francis gave them a simple hand gesture. Their names were Pippen, Prudence, and Peter. Despite their rough exteriors, all three were reasonable and rational as I explained my plan to lure Thomas Denny and his men to their doom. They had echoed Francis's desire to get me to safety and meet up with their coven before we undertook this operation, but I argued for the benefit of striking fear and showing the common people that Lord Eli was a player as well in England’s power struggle. In the end, I won them over with the help of Puck.

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Several weeks passed by as I conspicuously stayed in the village, which I learned was named Benington. In the small village of less than three hundred people, I found the only tavern inn, which I paid some coins to buy from the owner. Luckily for me, King Edward’s stipend for my education and care was paid directly to me through Lord Ashley, which I guarded like a dragon. In my mind, I converted the amount to roughly half a million US dollars in modern money. Sir Anthony Denny and his wife never asked me for money, despite their limited means, nor did I demand additional luxuries from them. As such, I had a decent amount of funds on hand. Puck and the three brothers were the caretakers of the inn, making sure that only one of the three triplets appeared in front of any given traveler or person to hide the fact that there was, in fact, more than one of them. To the outside world, Puck was running the tavern inn with just one employee.

I sent Francis back to his uncle to spread the word that I was staying at a nearby inn in Bennington. I had local villagers send out letters to Lord Ashley about what happened at Cheshunt, which I attributed to a group led by Thomas Denny that wished to kill the Denny family and me. Of course, I knew the letters would likely be read by Mary and John Dudley, which was the point. Acknowledging that I knew who the culprit was and not revealing their connections to the act, I gave the false impression of plausible deniability. The letters were also meant to indirectly inform Wiliam Cecil in the service of John Dudley that I had not perished, so he would continue serving as my insider and if necessary, financial resource as I would need his assistance in the future.

Gradually, the small village of Benington appeared to get livelier as strange men began to appear. At first, they were people who had seen me before, servants of the Seymore and Denny family, who had likely betrayed the families they served. I allowed them to see me openly at the inn. I greeted them with empty pleas to send word to various nobles and the royal court about my circumstances. After they left, I left the inn as well. As the inn would become a target, I returned to Puck’s cottage outside of town and waited as the former servants confirmed my presence to Thomas Denny.

Several days after the group of servants, several rough-looking men appeared at the inn asking about my whereabouts, Puck indicated I would return from my walk shortly, offering them drink and food laced with his concoctions. As the signs of their incapacitation appeared, the triplets would slit their throats and bury their bodies in the back. Sometimes, the men refused to drink and instead wanted to wait for me in my bedroom, which was a windowless room at the bottom of the inn without furniture with only one door in and out. Puck barred the door and used poisonous gas to suffocate those men to death. We dispatched almost forty-three men in various ways. However, Thomas Denny didn’t follow the same foolish pattern forever. With warning from Francis, we learned Thomas was mustering all the men at his disposal, around seventy-eight in total including Thomas. They stormed the tavern inn and met their fiery end at the hands of nitrate-enhanced explosives. A fitting end for someone who burned his own family to death.

After the explosion, of course, I couldn’t stay around for long, but I did make it known that Thomas Denny had murdered his brother’s family in an attempt on my life. In return for his treasonous actions, I laid a trap to eliminate him and his band of brigands. The fact that he stormed into the village with a considerable force of armed men at the known location of my residence was proof that he had malicious intent. I sent letters to Lord Ashley reflecting the same news and stated I would be traveling for the time being. All of this took several weeks with the cleaning of the scene at Benington to remove traces of advanced nitrate-enhanced explosives and back-channel messages, including instructions for John Cary, Francis’ stepfather to take on the cleanup effort of Cheshunt.

Years later, dramatists, including a certain young cheeky bard of Avon, would create plays about my harrowing escape and counter-ambush. I was thrilled at the fiction and heaped praise on their creators, including the young bard who added one too many spicy scenes before sending him to be punished by Walsingham.

Future stories embellish everything about the event. Instead of one hundred twenty-one men, Thomas Denny had the full armies of England at his back, while I had merely five loyal fair folks. Instead of a tavern in an isolated village, I had met them bravely in the open field of battle and crushed them, leaving not one traitor alive. Never in those stories did they mention the doubts of the men who followed me, the various close calls, or the minor injuries that Puck and I suffered in working with nitric acid. They also never knew that the stoic shadow of England, Francis Walsingham, cried tears of joy at the vengeance that was brought against Thomas Denny. It is better that people did not focus on the minutiae within the story, courage is stronger in fools than knowledgeable people with consciences. Even now decades away from those events, I don’t want to recall all those details. I still remember men pleading for their lives in the small room as Puck poisoned them to death, the faces of innocent young teenage boys from surrounding towns who were impressed to service with Thomas Denny, or the sounds of agony as the few escaping boys and men from the tavern inn were butchered by me and the others. No one could survive that ambush.