The Vampire & Her Witch

The Village of Maeril was one of the most comfortable and familiar-feeling places that Isabell had visited since coming to Lothian March. Nestled against the River Luath, the village spanned both the north and south sides of the river with ferries ready to carry people and goods across the river for as little as a snip of tin per person.

Two stone platforms marked the place where a demon bridge had once spanned the river, but local legend claimed that the demons destroyed the bridge themselves in order to prevent crusaders from pursuing them when they fled north of the river. Now, those ancient stone platforms served as loading stations for barges filled with beef, lamb, and wool from Dunn Barony or wheat, barley, and produce from Hanrahan Barony, all flowing down river to the markets in Lothian City or beyond.

In another decade or two, if the village continued to grow the way it was, it might transform into a proper town with more tradesmen popping up to refine the raw materials coming in from the edges of the frontier. Already, it played host to a number of mills turning grain into flour and timber into usable lumber, but both operations felt relatively small in scale compared to the potential Isabell saw here.

Still, the village was large enough to possess a number of inns for travelers, including one that catered to visiting knights and merchants, where Marcel had asked Isabell and Tiernan to wait for him until he could arrange for their transportation to meet with Lady Ashlynn.

”It would have been nice to see the ancient bridge,” Isabell mused as she sat in a small, private dining room with Master Tiernan, Sir Rain, and Sir Hugo. ”I never appreciated how sophisticated their engineering was until I saw the roads they left behind out here. Any surviving demon structures in Blackwell County were destroyed so long ago that there’s nothing left to study.”

”You praise demons?” Sir Rain said darkly as he paused eating, holding the bone of a mutton chop halfway to his mouth. Unconsciously, his grip on the bone tightened enough to crack the slender bone as he recalled the last time he had confronted demon ’engineering.’

The traps set by the Flat Tailed demons were both fiendishly clever and expertly hidden and more than a dozen men had been crushed to death by falling logs or impaled as they fell into concealed pits filled with spikes before Owain’s raiding force drew within sight of the demon’s nest, not to mention the men who drowned or were buried alive in the flood of water and mud that surged into the gully they were marching through when the demons shattered their own dam just to drag a few more of Owain’s soldiers to their death.

When they had finally reached the village, there hadn’t been nearly enough demons to slaughter to make up for all the men they’d lost and no matter what the priests from the Church said, a promise of paradise on the Heavenly Shores was cold comfort when you were staring into the vacant eyes of men you had been drinking with just the night before.

”That kind of talk can land you in the Inquisition’s hands before you see your next sunrise, you know,” Sir Rain warned as he stared at the gray-haired engineer.

”You don’t understand,” the gray-haired engineer said with a heavy sigh, wishing that the stubborn frontier knight could put aside thoughts of war for just a few minutes to consider how useful something like a bridge that could span the entire width of the River Luath would be in times of peace. Or, if he had to think of war, how useful it would be for moving soldiers and knights on their horses between the Dunn and Hannrahan baronies.

”Engineering is all about math,” she said, sounding much like the school teacher she so often resembled as she tried to find a way to reach the younger man. ”It doesn’t matter who does the math, one plus one will always be two. The load-bearing capacity of an arch and the strength of stones will always be the same. Math is truth, no matter who tells it, and even the Church can’t claim it’s heresy.”

”Be that as it may,” Sir Hugo said quickly as he looked at the door to their dining room, as if he were afraid someone might be listening just outside the room. The Village of Maeril was too close to the Vale of Mists after all and it was one of the few villages to play host to an Inquisitor in addition to the priests at the local temple. While the risk that they would be overheard was low, the things he’d seen Inquisitor Diarmuid do while hunting demons in the wilderness left him unwilling to risk direct confrontation with anyone who commanded such powerful holy magic.

”Perhaps there are other things we could talk about?” Hugo suggested as his mind cast about for any other topic that might be of interest to the Master Engineer that wouldn’t also touch on topics the Inquisition might find to be taboo. ”Do you find the docks here well constructed, Master Isabell?” he asked lamely. ”What did you think of the cranes used to load the barges?”

”I think they’re adequate for what they’re used for,” Isabell said with a heavy sigh as she looked across the table at Master Tiernan with eyes pleading for support in carrying the conversation until their rescuer arrived.

Their ’escort’ had insisted on showing them around the bustling village, heaping praise on it while pointing out how dangerous it was to move beyond the village’s western walls, and trying to make polite, noncommittal noises as they held to their intentions to continue their journey had become more and more exhausting as the afternoon turned to evening. By now, Isabell’s patience had all but reached its end.

”It’s easier to transport iron and ore by river than by land,” Tiernan added gruffly after taking a heavy swallow of bitter ale that he felt suited the mood ever since they’d been saddled with their ’helpful protectors.’ ”But loading barges with iron using those cranes,” he started to say, only to sigh in relief when he was interrupted by a rapid -knock- -knock- -knock- at the door.

”Master Isabell, Master Tiernan, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” Marcel said with a charming smile and half a bow as he entered the room without waiting for permission. ”I’ve settled the bill for you already, and the carriage awaits only your presence,” he added smoothly.

”Excellent,” Isabell said, standing from her seat and taking a last swallow of wine before gathering her things to leave. ”Sir Rain, Sir Hugo, I’m afraid we have business to attend to. As I tried to tell you before we left, we’ve made other arrangements for our escort. You can return to Lord Owain having done your duty,” she said curtly.

”What? No, no, if you’re going somewhere, then we should stay by your side,” Hugo protested. ”This isn’t even Lord Owain’s desire but comes directly from Marquis Bors. I’m sure that even Mister Marcel will understand that we can’t defy his lordship’s orders.”

”Well, since the orders come from Marquis Bors,” Marcel said, stepping up next to Isabell to offer his arm to escort her before she could raise an objection. ”There’s plenty of room in the carriage for two more men. I assume you’ll want to bring your guardsmen along as well, won’t you?” the vampire said, raising an eyebrow at Sir Rain.

”Why?” the portly knight asked, blinking in surprise. ”It’s safe enough behind the village walls. Even if Hugo is useless with a sword, I should be more than capable of protecting us against anyone here who would wish us ill.”

”But we’re not staying behind the village walls,” Marcel said with a teasing smile. ”So I assume you want your men with you in case any dangerous ’demons’ attack us in the night,” he said.

”You want to venture out into the night, on a moonless night, this close to the Vale of Mists?” Sir Rain said, looking at the merchant as if he’d gone mad. ”Even if the idea of it wasn’t madness, how will you manage a carriage in the dark? What could possibly be so important that you would go rushing out under the cover of darkness...” he said before his voice trailed off and his hand dropped to the hilt of the dagger at his waist.

”Mister Marcel, Master Isabell,” he said as he lowered his brows. ”What is it that’s going on here? Why all of the secrecy?”