The Vampire & Her Witch

Ollie’s statement hit with the subtlety of a mace to the face. Sir Padraig’s wine cup froze halfway to his lips, the dark liquid sloshing against the rim as his hand began to tremble. He set it down with a wooden clunk, then inhaled a sharp hiss of breath through clenched teeth.

”Thorryn,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. His other hand found Seren’s under the table, gripping so tightly that her knuckles whitened. The lanky knight’s weathered face had gone pale, and he leaned heavily against his wife’s shoulder as the implications settled over him like a cold fog.

Around the table, the others wore similar expressions of shock and disbelief as they tried to reconcile the story they were hearing from Liam and Sir Ollie with the image they had of the mild young priest.

Loman Lothian had spent the most recent summer campaign in the healer’s tents, tending to their very own soldiers. Some of the men he’d healed were in this very camp right now, alive and well because of Loman’s good deeds. So to be told that he’d sacrificed seven acolytes from the Church... it was difficult to believe.

”Inquisitor Diarmuid from the Holy City sat on Dame Sybyll’s court as well, Father,” Liam added. ”Even the Inquisitor felt that he’d crossed a line that shouldn’t be crossed.”

”Still,” Loghlan said, pursing his lips together in worry. ”That’s a heap of trouble that you’ve borrowed, Son,” he said. ”I might not be able to protect you from the consequences.”

Sitting next to the baron, Mairwen gave Loghlan a sharp look, but even she knew that he wasn’t wrong. Things might not be peaceful between Owain Lothian and his brother Loman, but even if Owain hated his brother, he would never allow someone else to harm a member of his family.

Nor would he tolerate someone usurping his authority to judge one of his barons, whether he liked Ian Hanrahan or not. But, given the fact that Hugo Hanrahan was Owain’s personal Steward, Mairwen didn’t think it likely that the next Lothian Marquis would look kindly on someone who unseated his Steward’s father.

”I’m not asking you to protect me from the consequences of doing the right thing, Father,” Liam said, drawing a deep breath and sitting up as straight in his chair as he could. ”You told me once that any man who would rule a domain must embrace ’Justice’ as a virtue and he must live up to that virtue or his reign is doomed to be one of terror, corruption, and cruelty.”

”I’ve seen plenty of that in Hanrahan,” Liam said firmly. ”And I don’t regret doing my part to root out wickedness where we found it. Dame Sybyll’s sentences were harsh, but not unreasonable given the crimes she judged.”

”Dare I ask what sentences she imposed?” Loghlan said, already feeling like a vein in his temple was ready to burst.

”Ian Hanrahan was executed for his crimes, and compensation is being arranged for his many victims, paid from the Hanrahan treasury,” Liam said. ”Bastian was stripped of his title for his role in enabling and concealing his father’s crimes, and he’s been sent to live in exile.”

”I know that sounds harsh,” Liam added when he saw the deeply concerned looks around the table. ”But Ian Hanrahan’s victims weren’t limited to magnicide. If Dame Sybyll hadn’t executed him and displayed his body to the people of Hanrahan, I suspect the people would have rioted to take justice into their own hands,” he said, closing his eyes as he recalled the shouted questions from the masses gathered in the great hall that night, begging to know if their missing sisters, daughters, or even wives were among the many women who had disappeared during Ian Hanrahan’s rule.

”And Lord Loman?” Sir Brennus asked nervously, with a sinking feeling in his stomach that accompanied the certainty that he already knew the answer to his question. ”Was he also sentenced to die?”

”He was offered a measure of mercy,” Liam said, shuddering as he recalled the sight of Dame Sybyll tearing Loman’s arm from its socket and blinding his eye. ”He likely doesn’t see it as such, but he was given heavy injuries that will prevent him from performing those rituals again.”

”It was the judgment of Lady Heila, Inquisitor Diarmuid, and Lord Hauke that Lord Loman had been deceived about the nature of the ritual he was taught by... by his teacher,” Liam said, carefully withholding the fact that Loman had been taught by Exemplar Domas, in order to prevent people at the table from panicking. ”And on that basis, Dame Sybyll was... lenient.”

”Merciful Light, Son,” Loghlan said, shaking his head as he struggled to process everything he’d been told. ”This... This is a lot to take in with dinner,” he said, staring at his untouched meal. ”I thought I told you to hold back on the sensitive bits until we could speak in private,” he groused, giving his son a look that was both stern and slightly exasperated.

”He did,” Ollie said, startling the people at the table when he spoke up. ”By quite a bit, Lord Dunn. Lord Liam has been working very hard on behalf of Dunn Barony. He’s taken some very large risks, but he’s always been mindful of his family and his people,” Ollie said, putting a friendly hand on the young lord’s shoulder to offer his support.

Ollie didn’t fault Liam’s father for being worried. He didn’t yet know about the agreement that Liam had spent days negotiating with Lady Ashlynn, nor did he understand the extent of the Vale’s forces and their ability to protect the people of Dunn if they joined them as allies. He only knew what his own strengths were, and he was afraid that they were insufficient to protect them from the enemies that Liam may have just provoked.

”Thank you, Sir Ollie,” Liam said, smiling at the flame-haired knight who had come to his aid. ”Father, I have a letter for you, from Lady Ashlynn... We should discuss it, in private,” he said, giving Eira a look that was overly apologetic, as if he didn’t want to send her away, but had to.

”I agree that the children should leave, I think they’ve heard enough for one evening,” Loghlan said, looking at the second table where the youngest children had begun fidgeting and picking at the remnants of the meal on their plates. ”But everyone else should stay. Everything you’ve been talking about tonight, Son,” the baron said, shaking his head and pursing his lips together.

”It’s too big, Liam. It affects the whole barony, and if I can’t have the full Court present to hear about Lady Ashlynn’s letter, I can at least share it with everyone here...”