A glow of power lifted about the crystal lense. "Here is the nexus of our future," said the FarSeer. Within the lense Denoriel Silverhair saw a human infant, red-haired, held by a figure that Denoriel recognized - the mortal king of England, Henry, eigth of that name. The lens misted again, and scene after scene played out briefly before him - briefly, but enough to show him a future very bright for the mortals of England. "And this," said the lady of the ancient ways, "is what will come to pass if that child does not reign." Now the lens showed black-robed priests torturing hundreds until they would confess to anything, then burning what was left. Others, whose intellects burned as brightly as the flames, confessed their sins of difference defiantly... and were also burned. In place of a flowering of arts and science, darkness fell over the land, under the iron hand of Spain and the Inquisition. "You are the key to all of this." The FarSeer's emerald eyes held his. "The red-haired child of Great Harry of England must live, and thrive, and grow up to rule. You must become her protector." "But I am a Warrior, not a nursemaid-" he said, feebly.