The Vampire & Her Witch

Once Cerys had finished her letter, leaving it atop her blankets where she was certain Cynwrig would find it, she knelt beside her son and gently shook his shoulder.

”Dalwyn,” she whispered softly. ”Wake up, sweetheart. We need to go.”

The boy stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he looked up at his mother with confusion.

”Mama?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. ”Is it morning already?”

”Not quite,” Cerys said quietly, helping him sit up. ”But we need to leave now, before everyone else wakes up. Can you be very quiet for me?”

Dalwyn nodded, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He always did his best to do as his mother told him, and even though he didn’t understand why they were leaving so early, he didn’t ask any questions.

They were supposed to reach the Village Maeril today, and his mother had promised that if he was good, she’d take him to see the boats on the river before dinner. If he had to get up early, that meant they’d see the boats sooner, but if he didn’t do as she asked, then he’d only get a scolding for causing trouble, and he might not get to see the boats at all! Dalwyn didn’t want that, so he made sure to be extra quiet when he got out of his blankets under his mother’s watchful eyes.

Cerys helped him dress quickly, layering warm clothes against the cold morning air, and then she gathered a few essential items into a small bag. She didn’t take much; they would need to travel light, and besides, she told herself, they would be home soon enough. They would collect Gwyneth from the nursemaid in Stormbrook Village, and then... then they would go somewhere safe. Somewhere far from Lothian March and the heresy that was about to consume it.

She turned back to look at her husband one last time, and her heart ached at the sight of him sleeping so peacefully. Cynwrig was a good man. A kind man who had done everything he could to provide her and their children with the best life that he could. But he didn’t understand the danger they were in, not truly. He thought that he could set aside questions about heresy and faith for the Church, so long as the ledgers were balanced, the treasury was full of gold, their bellies were full of food, then he was content. He felt like that was enough to have done his duties as a knight.

But he was wrong. Cerys knew he was wrong. And she couldn’t make him see it.

Moving quietly to his side, she knelt down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, her lips trembling as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

”I’m sorry,” she whispered, so softly that there was no chance he would hear. ”I’m so sorry, my love. But I have to protect our children. I have to save them from this. Please forgive me.”

She stood and took Dalwyn’s hand, leading him toward the tent’s entrance. The boy followed without question, his small hand warm in hers, trusting his mother to guide him safely wherever they were going.

Outside, the camp was still and quiet. A few sentries stood at their posts, but they were focused on watching the perimeter, not on the movements of a noblewoman and her child walking through the camp. Cerys kept her head down and her pace measured, trying not to draw attention to herself as she made her way toward where the horses were tethered.

”Where are we going, Mama?” Dalwyn whispered as they walked.

”We’re going home, sweetheart,” Cerys said, keeping her voice low and calm. ”We’re going to fetch your little sister, and then we’re going on a journey. A long one.”

”Is Papa coming with us?” the boy asked innocently, and Cerys felt her heart twist painfully in her chest.

”Not right now,” she managed to say. ”Papa has to stay here for a little while longer. But we’ll see him again soon.”

It was a lie, and she hated herself for telling it. But what else could she say? How could she explain to an eight-year-old boy that his mother was fleeing in the night because she believed his father had chosen to lead them all into damnation by following a Great Witch and demons?

They reached the area where the horses were tethered, and Cerys quickly selected a sturdy mare that she knew could carry both her and Dalwyn. She worked quietly, saddling the horse with practised efficiency while Dalwyn stood nearby, watching with curious eyes.

”Mama, are we running away?” the boy asked suddenly, and Cerys froze.

She looked down at her son, at his innocent face and his trusting eyes, and she felt tears begin to spill down her cheeks.

”Yes,” she whispered. ”Yes, sweetheart, we are. But it’s because I love you, and I love your sister, and I need to keep you both safe. There’s a danger coming, and your father has to fight it,” she said, lying again because she couldn’t bear to tell her little man the truth. ”So, I need you to be very brave for me, just like your father is very brave to protect us. Can you do that for me, my little knight?”

Dalwyn nodded slowly, even though Cerys could see the confusion in his eyes. He didn’t understand, not really, but he trusted his mother, and he adored his father, so when she asked him to be brave for her like a knight, he stood up straight and imitated his father, giving her a salute with his fist to his chest, just like papa did whenever he promised to do something for Lord Loghlan.

Cerys finished saddling the horse and lifted Dalwyn up onto its back before climbing up behind him. She wrapped one arm around his small body, holding him close, and took the reins in her other hand.

”Hold on tight,” she told him. ”And be very quiet. We’re going to ride cross country for a bit, and it might get a little rough, so you have to hang on tight,” she said as she held him close to her chest.

She urged the horse forward, moving at a walk at first as they made their way out of the camp. No one stopped them. No one even seemed to notice them leaving. The few that did said nothing, pressing their fists to their chest in silent salute when they recognized that it was one of the ladies of the court passing by. Not one of them thought to stop her or question her, and she heaved a quiet sigh of relief once she’d made it out of the camp.

Once they were clear of the camp’s immediate boundary, she urged the horse into a trot, aiming for a nearby copse of trees where she could change directions without being seen. She was certain that, when her husband started searching for her, he’d believe that she’d gone to Maeril, to see her brother. They were much closer to Maeril than they were to Stormbrook after all. But she was afraid that if she went to her brother, she wouldn’t be able to keep the secrets she’d learned last night, secrets that would doom Lord Loghlan, her husband, and everyone else who’d been present when they learned that Sir Ollie was a witch...

She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to hurt anyone or cause any trouble for the baron, who had always been good to their family. She just wanted to get away, to keep herself and her children safe from the demons and the heresy that they could ever live together in peace.

So, even though she wanted to race to her little brother’s side, she resolutely abandoned the idea and focused on how she would get home to Stormbrook. The pre-dawn air was cold against her face, and Dalwyn huddled against her chest, but Cerys barely noticed the chill.

All she could think about was getting to Gwyneth, gathering her daughter into her arms, and then finding somewhere, anywhere, that would be safe from the darkness that was about to consume Lothian March....