Harry Potter In The Witcher [75]

…

One Year Later

Harry's POV:

"Good day to you, King Harry," a cheerful, familiar voice said.

Harry looked up from the thick, leather-bound book he was currently writing in. Asal, the elf-spy, was approaching his desk, a warm, friendly smile plastered on his face. Harry said nothing in response to the approaching man/elf. He just gave him a slight, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement.

"Asal," Harry commented lightly, "I'm surprised you're not busy brewing potions at this time of day. I hear you have been quite busy these days, what with the new clinic you've set up." He knew exactly why Asal was here, of course. He just needed to wait for the fake man to ask.

"Oh," Asal said, his voice as cheery as always, "I decided to take a break for the rest of the day. I have not caught you at a bad time, have I, my lord?" he asked, clearly trying, and failing, to hide the deep, ingrained discomfort that Harry's mere presence seemed to cause him.

"No," Harry replied, his voice flat. "Just going over some of the latest population statistics."

Asal nodded, as if genuinely interested. "And how is the population, then? We must have surely passed two thousand by now." Asal said, looking to him for confirmation.

Harry nodded. "We are currently at two thousand, six hundred and forty-two, to be precise," Harry said.

"Growth has, as expected, slowed down recently, as there are fewer and fewer people left in the nearby mountains, as well as the more accessible parts of the Far North, to come and join us. Hopefully," he added, deliberately trying to segue into the topic that he knew Asal *really* wished to speak of with him, "that particular problem will be fixed soon enough."

"Ah, yes," Asal said, taking the bait perfectly. "Speaking of which. I heard, through the city grapevine, that you have recently… 'made' a path, directly through the impassable Dragon Mountains, with your magic. I was wondering if you would be possibly able to tell me how, exactly, you did it? Was it a spell? I have never heard of a single spell being able to do so much… damage, with so much incredible precision, before. Oh," he said, suddenly backtracking, his eyes wide with feigned panic, "I'm so sorry, my lord, this is so incredibly rude of me. I don't mean to pry, of course, if the matter is private."

It was probably because, halfway through his little, pre-rehearsed speech, Harry had begun to give the man a chilling, penetrating stare, a stare that had caused the poor, disguised elf to pale considerably.

"Asal…" Harry began, his voice dangerously low, "do you have any idea how truly vast the Dragon Mountains are? From one side of the range to the another, in a single, straight path, is nearly three miles. And I made the path I created one hundred yards across.”

“ Three miles long, and a hundred yards wide. And I leveled it completely, turned solid rock into flat, passable ground. Now, if I were to tell you how I did something like that, and that information, by some chance, were to get out… what do you think would happen, Asal? That sheer, unimaginable amount of destructive power, in the hands of any two-bit, ambitious sorcerer who thinks they are somehow entitled to something that they are most certainly not really entitled to. I appreciate your curiosity, Asal, I truly do. But curiosity," Harry warned, as he finally, mercifully, eased up on the crushing, invisible magical pressure he had been exerting on the now terrified, pale-faced spy, "is something that should always be tempered with a great deal of caution."

Asal seemed to ponder his words for a long moment, before seemingly relenting, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he shakily nodded his head in agreement.

"I… I understand your point, my King," Asal said, his voice a little hoarse, his head now bowed low in a gesture of submission. "Forgive me for any insult I may have accidentally given you."

Harry looked at the sorcerer's bowed form, unimpressed. The man tried far too hard to please him, and was far too clearly, almost desperately, trying not to get on his bad side. He had heard of Francesca Findabair before, of course, though he had never had the chance to see her in person.

She was supposed to be very powerful, breathtakingly beautiful, and incredibly intelligent. Despite knowing this, he had to seriously question her intelligence, or at least her judgement, when it came to sending someone like Asal here as a spy.

Perhaps she had simply hoped that he, himself, was not smart enough to notice the man's rather obvious, and frankly, clumsy, spying ability.

There was also, of course, the other, more intriguing possibility. That she had sent Asal knowing that he would be discovered, as a sort of… test for Harry himself. It made a certain kind of sense, he supposed. If he had killed the man outright, then Francesca would know to be much more cautious, to use far more subtle, and perhaps more dangerous, methods when dealing with him in the future.

Or perhaps she was simply testing if Harry would allow a foreign, potentially hostile presence in his court, as long as that presence did him no direct harm, and possibly even benefited him in some small way.

But why, though? What was she trying to gain, specifically through him? There were still so many questions he had no answers to. He would have to send more of his little bird spies South, to the Nilfgaardian Empire, to the elven lands of Dol Blathanna, to watch her more closely.

"Was there anything else you wished to discuss with me today, Asal?" Harry asked the still-bowed man.

"No, my King," Asal said quietly. "I will take my leave now."

"Asal," Harry said, causing the man to pause. "I am not mad at you for being curious. I just ask that you always temper that curiosity with caution. You may always ask me questions, but I may not always answer them, for reasons that may only be clear to myself. Have a good day."

Harry said, as he eyed the man. He didn't know what Findabair was truly up to, but if she was looking for an impression of him, of the kind of ruler he was, then he would certainly give her one.

Asal seemed to relax considerably at his words, and his bright, cheerful smile finally returned to his face. "Thank you, my King," he said, his voice filled with relief. "I shall certainly keep that in mind for the future. By your leave?" Asal asked.

Harry nodded, and watched him leave. As soon as the office door had closed behind the man, Harry sighed, a long, weary sound.

"Have you just been following him around all day," Harry asked the empty room, "or have you now decided to watch all of my meetings from now on?"

Silence met his question for a long moment, before a dark, hooded body landed, silently and with an almost cat-like grace, on his desk, in a crouched, predatory position. He looked up to see the hooded, and now smirking, face of Merri, gazing back at him.

"I almost regret teaching you how to do that," Harry said dryly, as Merri hopped gracefully off his desk and turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest as she gave him a pointed look. Harry sighed again and, with a flick of his wrist, summoned another comfortable chair for her to sit in.

"So," Harry asked her, as he reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a dusty, but full, bottle of fine Mahakaman Mead. He summoned two cups and poured a generous amount into both, before offering her one. Merri took it, tilted it back, and downed the whole, strong drink in one impressive gulp, before setting the empty glass down with a satisfied thud.

"How are you healing, then?"

"It almost doesn't hurt to walk at this point," Merri responded, a small, resentful glare still directed at him.

Harry just smiled in return. "Now, don't give me that look," he said. "You agreed to it, and look at you now. I bet there isn't a single sorcerer alive that you wouldn't be able to put into the ground, if you really wanted to."

And indeed, Merri had just, a few days ago, finally finished the intense, grueling, and often brutal training that Harry had personally put her through, in order to learn how to effectively, and permanently, take down magic users.

He had taught her things like advanced ambushing techniques, magical and mundane tracking, how to hide her presence completely, without the aid of magic, and a variety of different weapon usages, all specifically designed to permanently put down powerful, and often arrogant, sorcerers.