The Vampire & Her Witch

The road curved down toward the village gates, and Carwyn could now make out the guards standing watch. Two men in the livery of House Maeril, the silver fish prominent on their tabards, both looking cold and bored as they shifted their weight from foot to foot.

One was an older man with a grizzled beard, the other was younger, barely out of boyhood by the look of him. Carwyn didn’t recognize either of them, despite his frequent visits to Maeril over the years, but that was hardly surprising given how large of a ’village’ Maeril had become.

Carwyn straightened further in his saddle, adopting the easy confidence of a knight who had every right to be there, and guided his horse toward the gates.

The older guard stepped forward as Carwyn approached, one hand raised in a casual gesture of greeting that wasn’t quite a demand to stop. His expression was wary but not hostile. He wore the look of a man who spent many years checking travelers and who had long ago learned to read the difference between merchants, pilgrims, and trouble.

”Good afternoon, your lordship,” the guard called out, his breath forming a cloud of mist in the cold air as he spoke. ”What brings you to Maeril this fine winter day? If you’re headed to Lothian City for the coronation and whatnot, you’re almost too late.”

”I’m Sir Carwyn Belvin of Raek,” Carwyn replied, keeping his voice pleasant and unhurried despite the sweat that was suddenly rolling down the space between his shoulder blades. ”I don’t know if I’m going to press on to Lothian or not,” he said, putting on a show of looking awkward. ”My wife is with child, and my village only has a single acolyte to pray over her,” he said, glancing in the direction of the imposing Abbey on the southern side of the sprawling village.

”My mother is afraid that it may be twins with how large she’s grown,” Carwyn said, gesturing to his belly to suggest the size that Olwyna had reached at this point, still six or even eight weeks short of when she should give birth. ”I’m worried that without a priest to pray over her, or some medicines to ease the birth...”

As Sir Marcel said, the best lies held a kernel of truth, and when Sir Carwyn spoke of his wife, he wasn’t lying. It was just that, after the acolyte in his village had attempted to burn him and his family with Blessed Oil in order to ’cleanse’ the stain of ’demon worship’ from the village after Carwyn sided with Lady Ashlynn and the Eldritch, Sir Carwyn no longer had any faith that the Church could or would help him and his wife.

The guards didn’t know that, though, and the older guard’s expression softened slightly at the mention of twins and medicines.

”Well, I hope that congratulations are in order then, Sir Carwyn,” he said with a slight smile, though his face was creased with worry. The conditions of the frontier were rough, particularly here, close to the border between civilization and the demon-infested wilderness.

Twins should be a blessing, but without the care of the Church, the chances of the mother and both children surviving childbirth weren’t good, and even if the children survived, they were often sickly and weak. Surviving the winter would be difficult for everyone involved.

”I’m sure you’ve been here before,” the old guard said, turning to face the village. ”But you’ll want to start with the Temple, the Inquisition isn’t much known for healing, and the Abbot has already left for Lothian anyway,” he said apologetically. ”Still, if you need to...”

”Wait!” The younger guard shouted as he burst out of the gatehouse, his eyes wide with alarm. ”Wait, did you say Sir Carwyn Belvin? From Raek Village?”

The older guard frowned at the interruption, but the younger man was already rushing forward, his hand dropping to the sword at his belt.

”Sir Carwyn Belvin was captured by demons weeks ago! He’s been missing ever since. Everyone knows it,” he said, pausing to glower at his older companion, who always said that he ’knew’ what trouble looked like. ”There were messengers sent to all the villages, warning people about the demon raids!”

Carwyn kept his expression carefully neutral, even as he felt his muscles tense. It would have been easier if the old guard had just let them pass, but this wasn’t unexpected. Bastian Hanrahan had made such a big deal over the ’demon raids’ that it was unlikely that the people of Maeril wouldn’t have heard about his capture.

”I understand your concern,” Carwyn said more calmly than he felt. ”But as you can see, I’m very much alive and free. I managed to escape several days ago and returned to my village. Now, I just want to get help for my wife, so if you can stand aside...”

”If you escaped, why didn’t anyone send us word of it? You could have betrayed us to the demons. Or, or maybe you’re an imposter,” the younger guard said sharply. ”They say that a witch pretended to be a servant and snuck into the Summer Villa to kill Sir Kaefin and Sir Broll. They never even found all the pieces of Sir Broll! How do we know you aren’t just a witch claiming to be Sir Carwyn to sneak into Maeril while Sir Garrik is away?”

The older guard looked uncertain now, his gaze flickering between Carwyn’s face and the wagons behind him. Clearly, his young companion spent too much time listening to the fiery sermons of the Inquisition to invent such paranoid schemes. Witches were incredibly rare, and just knowing that one had been spotted at the Summer Villa more than six months ago didn’t mean that they were lurking in every corner.

And yet, he couldn’t deny the possibility that something strange was happening here. They’d all seen the sketch of the strange Serpent Demon who wore the armor of a knight that had defeated Sir Carwyn and took him prisoner. Lord Bastian Hanrahan had attested to the truth of the tale before the Lothian Court, so it shouldn’t have been a lie...

”Can you prove you’re who you say you are?” the old guard asked. ”I don’t mean any offense, your lordship,” he said helplessly. ”But Sir Garrik would have my hide if we didn’t make sure...”

”It’s fine,” Carwyn said, raising his hands up as he began tugging off one of the armored leather gloves he wore, revealing a simple silver signet ring set with a stone carved with the two snarling hounds that represented the House of Belvin.

”This is my family’s signet,” Carwyn said loudly enough for his voice to carry to the carriage all the way at the back of the small caravan. ”It’s been in my family for three generations. If that isn’t proof enough of my identity, I can describe the manor at Raek in detail if you’d like. I can tell you the names of Sir Garrik’s daughters, or...”

”That could be stolen,” the younger guard interrupted, his voice rising with anxiety. ”The demons could have taken it from you when they captured the real Sir Belvin! Or you could be a witch who changed your shape to resemble him!”

”I haven’t killed anyone,” Carwyn said, forcing himself to remain patient. ”And I’m not corrupted by ’demons,’ and I’m certainly not a witch,” Carwyn said with a snort of laughter at the notion that he of all people would be a witch. This fool had no idea what real witches were like.

”Can you name anyone in Maeril who can vouch for you?” the older guard asked. His tone was still respectful, but Carwyn could hear the steel underneath. This man was taking his duty seriously, and that was admirable even if it was currently inconvenient.

”Sir Garrik himself would recognize me, as would his wife, Lady Bronwyn,” Carwyn said after he thought for a moment about who he actually knew in Maeril. ”I’ve met them both several times at gatherings of the local lords. I could also...”

”Sir Garrik and his family are in Lothian City for the grand ceremony,” the older guard reminded him with a slight grimace. ”They left three days ago with half the garrison, and they won’t be back for at least another week, assuming the ceremony doesn’t run long.”

Meanwhile, the younger guard was still staring at Carwyn with suspicion bordering on hostility.

”We can’t just let someone in who was captured by demons,” the young man said. ”What if he’s here to scout the village for a raid? What if he’s planning to open the gates from the inside?”

”I’m not...” Carwyn started, but the younger guard was already turning back toward the gatehouse.

”We should call for the Inquisition,” he said firmly. ”Let them investigate. They have ways of telling if someone’s been corrupted or possessed. Better safe than sorry, especially with demons so close to our borders.”

”That, that might actually be for the best,” the older guard agreed with a heavy sigh. ”I’m sorry, your lordship,” he said, clearly worried that he’d offend an important knight by calling the Inquisition to investigate him, but he really felt like he had no other choice until a deep, resonant voice rang out from the carriage at the back of the caravan.

”Is there a problem here?”