The Vampire & Her Witch

While many people in the audience focused on the entrance of the Harbinger of Death and the Mother of Trees, with a few pointing and whispering at Heila’s taboo blade or the terrifying sword of flame on Ignatious’s hip, the few whispers that had begun to ripple through the crowd died instantly with several jaws snapping audibly shut at the entrance of the next two individuals.

Behind Heila and Ignatious, Savis and Tausau exuded a dominating, almost ferral menace that paralyzed many in the Frost Walker audience with fright. People who only saw Tausau caring for his Mongrel Horde or those who saw Savis’s disciplined leadership of his solders were no doubt surprised at the bloody aura spilling from the two vampires but the reaction among the Frost Walkers was considerably different.

Some of them had seen the two powerful vampires, fighting against more than a dozen men at once atop the gatehouse during the battle and no one doubted that if they were to fight one on one, or even three on one, the vampires of High Lord Hamdi’s line would tear them apart in an instant. A few of the sorcerers in the audience had an even better understanding of the danger the vampires represented, considering themselves lucky to have survived their confrontation with only minor wounds and deeply savaged pride.

Moreover, unlike Heila and Ignatious who had yet to fully recover from their actions during the battle, the two vampires behind them seemed to have recovered fully after a night of rest and an opportunity to feed when they woke. In the entire hall, perhaps only Commander Jannik and the Elders stood any chance of fighting against these powerful vampires.

Talauia brought up the rear of the procession, drifting along with wings that beat just fast enough to keep her feet from touching the icy floor. With so many injured on both sides of the battle, once she was certain that Ashlynn and Heila would be fine without her help, she’d thrown herself into helping those she could. The energy of nature was thin on the mountain top but she refused to let that stop her when there were still people she could help.

Now that she fully understood what had happened outside the gates, Talauia was doing everything she could to limit any further reprisals to the people who were responsible for this disaster. She’d survived the fall of her own clan and she heard too many whispers during the day from people who were afraid they were about to face the same fate.

She could tell them, she could tell them all she wished that it wouldn’t be like that. That Auntie Ashlynn wouldn’t slaughter a whole clan even if Lady Nyrielle might. But words were cheap and actions weren’t, so she drove herself to help as many of the Frost Walkers as she could until she exhausted her energy and finally had to rest.

”The High Pass has fallen,” Nyrielle said, her rich voice echoing through the hall and pulling everyone from their thoughts as she and Ashlynn reached the top of the dias where the twin thrones belonging to Lord Ritchel and his wife Odette stood empty. ”These are the seats of power for the High Pass. Set them aside,” she commanded the Tuscans carrying her and Ashlynn.

”There will come a day when someone sits upon these thrones again,” Ashlynn added as the thrones of the High Pass were carefully moved off the dias to make room for her and Nyrielle. ”But that day is not today. Today, we come as victims of treachery in demand of justice,” she said in a strident voice that echoed off the back of the chambers.

”Last night, in retribution for betrayal, the Vale of Mists conquered the High Pass,” Nyrielle said, making her perspective on the night’s events clear to everyone who was present. If anyone still hoped that this could be covered up like rotten fish buried under fresh snow, their last hopes died with Nyrielle’s words.

At the front of the Frost Walker delegation, Odette hung her head in shame, her white horn dimming so much that she could almost have been mistaken for a dead person ready to have their horn mounted in an ancestral hall.

’Someone’ would sit upon the thrones again, but because of her family’s role in what the Harbinger of Death called a betrayal, she doubted that it would be Ritchel or Hauke. After what had happened, the next Lord of the High Pass might not even be a Frost Walker. But the thone wasn’t the important part, Odette reminded herself. So long as there was a way for her family to survive, even if they had to give up those thrones and leave the High Pass forever, she was willing... so long as her family could survive, she was willing to do almost anything.

”Tonight,” Nyrielle said, looking over the crowd at the still open doors. ”We will hear the demands of the dead who cry out for justice and vengeance. And before this night is over, the dead will have their demands answered!”

As soon as Nyrielle’s final words spilled from her lips, another sound began to fill the hall. This time, the drummers tapped out a slow, steady beat that was accompanied by the clank of chains and the sound of armored boots striking the frozen ground in perfect unison.

When Zedya stepped into the hall at the head of another procession, the entire hall stilled at the sight of the usually unobtrusive vampire dressed head to toe in deep crimson with spills of lace that emulated the flow of blood. In a hall of icy white and blue, her choice of dress marked her instantly as someone standing apart even from the other dignitaries who took their seats before the dias.

Behind Zedya, rank after rank of soldiers from the Black Wolf Brigade acted as pall bearers, carrying nearly two dozen coffins in various sizes. One by one, each coffin was laid on the ice before the dias, forming a morbid ’third row’ of dignitaries before the dias as each of the previous night’s fallen were brought before Nyrielle to make their demands.

”Mistress Nyrielle,” Zedya said, standing ramrod straight and allowing her voice to ripple across the entire hall. ”I have come to act as a speaker for those who have fallen. Their deaths last night were needless and wasteful and their spirits cry out for justice. I have come to give voice to the demands of the dead.”