The Vampire & Her Witch

The instant Ashlynn mentioned having Marcel take Sir Rain’s sword away, the portly knight’s face immediately drained of color and his hand left the hilt of his sword almost before he realized it. Seeing the way the young man smiled at him, as if he couldn’t wait for an opportunity to come close to him again, only made the feeling worse as he sheepishly returned to his place on the tailgate of the wagon.

Sir Rain tried to return to his posture of bored indifference, but no matter how much he tried to look like he wasn’t bothered, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly tense and on edge. It wasn’t just the threat of unleashing the knife wielding merchant on him that bothered him. It was the way that everyone here, from the hunter Eamon or the Constable, Daithi and most especially Lady Ashlynn herself, had reacted to his threat.

The soldiers who came with him looked suitably nervous, but everyone that followed Lady Ashlynn looked... amused. Some of the servants even looked at him with pity! But no one, not the young knight Ollie, the smug merchant Marcel and most certainly not Lady Ashlynn herself looked the least bit intimidated by his threat! And when she spoke to him, she spoke to him like a child, threatening to take his sword away before he ’hurt himself with it.’

He’d threatened strong men before, men who clashed directly with him, refusing to back down. Some times, those tense exchanges even led to blows as neither man was willing to retreat from their stance. But Lady Ashlynn, somehow, left him nothing to clash against, and instead made him feel small and ashamed for acting out... Like he was a petulant child instead of a powerful knight.

”Let me make two things clear,” Ashlynn said, pulling attention back to herself and giving Sir Rain a reprieve from the weight of his men’s gazes that seemed just as filled with pity for his humiliation as everyone else’s had been. ”Sir Kaefin died with his pants around his ankles for trying to force himself on me. If he hadn’t dragged me into his bed chambers, he’d likely still be alive today.”

Ashlynn’s tone was as calm as the still water of a mountain lake and her words were precise and slightly clipped as if she was stating a simple fact but to the people gathered here, there was almost nothing she could have said that would have been more shocking. The servants who came from the vale looked at her in stunned horror, wondering who would dare to assault the mighty Mother of Trees.

Strangely enough, the people who had come with Sir Hugo and Sir Rain had expressions that were similarly horrified though many were mixed with disbelief. For Lord Owain’s own Steward to assault his liege lord’s wife sounded... far fetched would be an understatement for how incredulous it sounded.

”As to why I was there,” Ashlynn continued. ”My ’husband’ beat me nearly to death and Sir Broll and Sir Tommin buried me alive,” she said in the same calm, clipped tone though her gaze grew momentarily clouded as she glanced in the direction of the forest beyond the camp. ”The grave I crawled out of is two hundred paces that way,” she added pointing into the woods. ”If you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to go see it for yourself.”

”But, Sir Hugo wanted to understand why I was there,” Ashlynn said, returning her gaze to the hawk-nosed knight who stared at her with eyes that were wide in shock... but not much disbelief.

After all, Hugo knew Lord Owain well enough to understand that his lord was ruthless if he felt aggrieved. Ruthless enough to order the family of Sir Tommin poisoned with Spider Demon venom so they would suffer months of agonizing decline before succumbing to the poison. To hear that his lord had ordered his previous underlings to bury Lady Ashlynn alive somewhere deep in the wilderness... it didn’t take much for him to believe it at all.

”My husband tried to murder me,” Ashlynn said coldly. ”Then he found a woman named Samira to impersonate me, telling the world that I was bearing his child and hiding the imposter away in the Summer Villa to conceal the truth of what he’d done. So tell me, Sir Hugo, is it understandable why I might disguise myself to find out what exactly Owain was up to?”

When she explained it that way, many in the audience found themselves nodding along with her explanation and even Sir Rain had to swallow a bit of his indignation and fury over the murder of his lord’s best friend. Part of him, a part of him that was usually the largest part, still wanted to demand answers to questions like why Owain had tried to murder her in the first place.

But under the watchful eyes of the knife wielding merchant, that part had grown much, much smaller than the part of him that didn’t want to die tonight. He might still have questions, but this was Lady Ashlynn’s show and she was making that very, very clear.

”I, I apologize,” Sir Rain choked out, hating himself for buckling under the pressure he felt from a short woman and a soft skinned man who might as well be a woman, but seeing no alternative under the circumstances. After all, Lady Ashlynn had said that their conduct tonight would determine whether they became her guests or her prisoners... and he was starting to realize that she hadn’t been making an idle threat when she said ’prisoners.’

”My lady is right,” he added quickly. ”This man Darragh is the one who is on trial tonight. We should render our judgment on his crimes before we do anything else,” he said as he mopped sweat from his brow and tried to recover a portion of his knightly dignity to sit in judgment.

”I couldn’t agree more,” Ashlynn said smoothly. ”Mister Eamon, you were telling us of the night we met and how you were treated afterwards,” she reminded him. ”Please, continue your tale...”