The Vampire & Her Witch

Ollie crouched behind the roots of a mighty cypress tree, looking out across the open plains below where a powerful army had built their camp. Banners flapped idly in a faint summer breeze that seemed to bring no relief from the endless heat of the two suns. The symbols of the Lothians, the Dunns, the Hanrahans, the Rians, and dozens more major and minor families could be clearly seen, mixed with a nearly equal number of banners displaying the gleaming sword of the Order of Holy Light, the burning blade of the Order of Holy Flame, and the burning sun of the Inquisition.

”How many of them do you think there are, Milo?” Ollie asked in a hushed voice. Between Milo and Harrod, he’d managed to rally over four dozen soldiers and twice as many villagers who were skilled with weapons, though most of them were hunters skilled in bows and snares rather than the use of axes or maces, the way Harrod’s men were.

”At least a thousand, Sir Ollie,” the Heartwood archer said, crouching behind a screen of tall grasses as he observed the army arrayed against them. ”Enough to burn our village to the ground even if they didn’t soften us up with the second sun at night. What they’re doing,” he said bitterly. ”It’s just cruelty.”

”No,” Harrod disagreed. ”It’s pragmatic. Commander Bassinger always said that to attack a fortified town or village, you need to outnumber defenders by at least five to one. But that only results in a bitter fight with many casualties.”

”So they’re trying to weaken us to reduce their own casualties?” Ollie said, frowning at the army on the field below. ”And they’re willing to camp here for weeks, torturing us to do that?”

”Maybe they think they can bait us into attacking them,” the horned soldier said. ”We don’t have the advantage of our walls here, and they’ve had time to dig trenches and fortify their position. If we attack them head-on, we’re only offering our heads up to their blades.”

”Then we don’t attack them head-on,” Ollie said with a predatory gleam in his eyes. For months, he’d suffered under the eternal sun this army had created, and he’d watched his people suffer at the hands of the Church’s cruel and cowardly plan. Finally, they were within the reach of his blades and the witchcraft he’d learned from Ashlynn.

Ollie thought that he understood Lady Ashlynn’s desire for revenge when he learned what Lord Owain had done to her on their wedding night. Anyone would want revenge after enduring suffering like that, and so he thought it was only logical for Lady Ashlynn to seek vengeance.

Now, however, he understood the fires that must burn in her heart and the rage she must feel at the thought of her tormentor living well for even one more day. He’d never before desired someone’s death, but now there was almost nothing he wanted as badly as he wanted to kill the Inquisitors responsible for the curse of the second sun. All he had to do was prod them into abandoning their fortified camp in order to ’slay some demons and a witch’ and he could finally put an end to this trial.

”The trees are both our spears and our shields,” Ollie said as he began to sketch a rough plan in the dirt. ”Milo, take your hunters into the cypress forest. Tell me where you need walls raised, and I’ll extend the knees of the cypress trees to give you places to take cover while you hunt their soldiers.”

”We won’t need much,” Milo said, his tail quivering with anticipation of the battle to come. ”But every bit of help the Cypress Witch can give us will be worth a dozen hunters.”

”Harrod,” Ollie said, turning to the horned soldier who had accompanied him ever since they fled from the Summer Villa. ”We need to bait them into a trap. They won’t believe that a force as small as yours would attack their army, but they have to expect that their second sun will eat away at our food supply. I want you to circle around to the side of their camp where the supply wagons and the cook tents are...”

It was a simple plan, but Ollie was counting on several things to see it succeed. He knew how badly the Church and the Lothians hated ’demons’, and he believed they wouldn’t easily tolerate their enemies raiding their supplies. Owai,n particularly, was certain to rage at his men for any ’failure’ and send them chasing after the fleeing Eldritch soldiers.

Of course, he didn’t expect to draw the entire army into their trap. But just drawing off one or two hundred of the enemy’s soldiers would weaken their lines enough to create a gap that Ollie could exploit to attack their Inquisitors, assuming that they didn’t send one or two of the ’holy men’ to chase after Harrod’s raiding party.

The loss of a single Inquisitor would significantly weaken their ability to use sorcery as demanding as the curse of the second sun. The loss of two might mean they wouldn’t be able to summon it at all. Defeating Lord Owain’s army was likely impossible, but stripping them of their ability to devastate his village and make his people suffer without ever exposing themselves to danger... that he could put an end to.

It only took an hour for Milo’s hunters to find their positions and another hour for Harrod’s men to circle around to the far side of Owain’s army. Still, they held their attack until the true sun began to sink toward the western hills, timing their attack for the moment the Inquisition was focused on preparing to launch their second sun into the skies once more.

”Demons! Demon attack!”

”They’ve come for the food! Stop them!”

”Stand and fight, you demon cowards! How dare you flee!”

The shouts that rose from the army’s camp were furious, indignant, and filled with a sense of righteousness as they demanded that Harrod’s men stand to fight instead of fleeing with the meager supplies they’d managed to steal.

Of course, Harrod and his men weren’t really interested in the food they’d stolen and they quickly dropped sacks of flour and barrels of pork as they sprinted for the safety of the cypress grove.

Following close behind them, running in disorganized ranks clustered together based on which lord or knight they served, the human army roared with fury, showing no sign of hesitation or caution as they charged into Ollie’s first trap.

”Through air they fly at my command,

Like arrows loosed by nature’s hand.

Strike deep and true, my wooden rain,

Leave none who face me free from pain!”

A dark grin formed on Ollie’s lips as he recited the very first spell Ashlynn had taught him to fight against the Lothians. All around him, dozens of cypress trees shook and trembled, shedding thousands of needles in an instant and filling the air with a rain of deadly, glistening darts.

The storm of needles weren’t precise weapons, and many of them wasted themselves against shields, helms, and the trunks of trees that the human soldiers quickly hid behind. But when there were thousands upon thousands of needles, even if nine out of ten of them missed their targets, hundreds still slipped through gaps in armor or the visors of helms to pierce the flesh of their targets.

”Aaaarghhh!”

”Demons!”

”Witch! It’s a witch among the demons!”

”Now, Milo!” Ollie shouted, grinning as he watched the charge break as the leading wave of soldiers crumpled to the ground in pain. Not only were the cypress needles propelled by his witchcraft wickedly sharp, but each one of them carried a tiny drop of poision that caused pain so excruciating that it would be difficult to continue fighting if even one needle pricked a man’’s skin, to say nothing of the pain they would feel when pierced by dozens of the wicked needles.

Milo’s men wasted no time in exploiting the opportunity Ollie had given them. The storm of cypress needles was followed by a deadly accurate storm of arrows, exploiting the helplessness of the men writhing in pain to deliver killing blows that forever silenced their anguished cries.

”Trap! It’s a demon trap!”

”Retreat! Retreat!”

The combination of deadly witchcraft and an ambush of archers turned the tide rapidly, turning the men who had been boldly chasing ’demons’ just moments ago into a panicked stampede of men rushing to be the first to escape the deadly cypress grove, even if it meant trampling their own people in the process.

For a moment, Ollie’s heart thudded in his chest, filled with the intoxicating rush of victory in the first battle he’d led against the Lothian threat. That exultation, however, lasted for only a moment before the sounds of several voices raised in chorus cut through the chaotic din of the fleeing men.

”Feel the Holy Lord’s wrath and sacred light,

Let cleansing flames purge the land of demon’s blight!”

Suddenly, a blinding light flooded the cypress grove, followed half a heartbeat later by flames so intense they seared the flesh from his bones, consuming Ollie, Milo, Harrod, and everyone who had come with them in a raging inferno of Holy Flame...