English castles are so calming. She has seen the Theodosian Walls, she has seen the walls of Jerusalem, she has seen the hill forts of the Anatolian Themes. Fortifications built by empires, designed by eastern architects and maintained in heightened states of readiness. She has seen grander defensive works, to be sure, but they never felt like [i]castles[/i]. A castle is a home, a place of residence and filled with personal touches and family traditions. Castles are lived in, not simply maintained by a revolving arsenal of soldiers. This castle may have ghosts? [i]All[/i] castles should have ghosts.

Nevertheless, her experience in wandering the lands of the Balkans has informed her that a great many castles [i]do[/i], in fact, have ghosts. So her axe is hefted over her shoulder with one hand and her crucifix is held in the other - not many hands left for acquiring lost cats. Thus she relies on Constance.

"Ho there, lady Cath," she said, rearranging her gear in her hands so she could provide Constance with a treat. "You must be a huntress beyond compare, or have a truly devoted human. Come hither that we might return you to your slave."