The Vampire & Her Witch

Kneeling crowds lined the streets of Lothian as Nyrielle’s chariot wound its way from the south gate to Lothian Manor. No one in the kneeling crowd could imagine standing, but now that Lord General Thane no longer required them to ’listen well,’ the streets were abuzz with reactions to the city’s newest visitors.

”...steal yer soul if ye meet her gaze, she will, keep yer heads down lads...”

”...doesn’t look like she’ll peel the flesh from your bones with her claws...”

”...cover the children with a cloak...”

”...doomed. They said themselves, she’s the Harbinger of Death. We’re all going to die...”

”... Demon Lady of the Vale...”

The last bit, the title that Lothian March had pinned to Nyrielle’s wings when they transformed her into the nightmare of ghost stories and fables meant to frighten children into going to bed on time and finish their chores, was repeated more than any other phrase as the fairy story they’d heard their whole lives suddenly appeared right before their eyes.

Some believed the old tales, warning their neighbors against so much as looking at her lest they draw her ire. Others, however, struggled with a reality that was very, very different from the one they’d been told to expect.

But as enchanting and shocking as Nyrielle’s presence was, she couldn’t command the attention of every person kneeling in the streets, and the children of Lothian were already excited about the new figures entering Lothian City.”

”See?” one young girl said, pointing at Nyrielle’s retreating carriage. ”There really are princesses, and look, she even has a little crown! I wanna be a princess next time...”

”She can’t be a princess unless she married a prince,” a stubborn, slightly older boy said. ”The Eldish don’t have any princes. She was supposed to marry Lord Owain, so she’d be a marchioness, not a princess...”

”They said she’s a princess,” the young girl insisted. ”So she’s a princess. Are you calling the, um, the Lord General person a liar?”

”No! No, I’m not, but...”

”It’s okay, Caja,” an older girl said, looking down her nose at the older boy. ”You can play princess next time, and I’ll be the knight that rescues you.”

”You can’t,” the boy insisted. ”Girls can’t be knights...”

”Can too,” the young girl, Caja, insisted. ”The Crimson Knight is a girl, and she’s pretty too. Jenfry can be a knight if she wants to and I’ll be a princess, and we don’t have to play with you if we don’t want to...”

”Hey, wait, but...” the young boy started as he realized he’d just lost his place in their game. ”What if I want to be the Lord General so everyone has to do what I say?”

”Not everyone!” Caja insisted. ”Princess Jocelynn didn’t have to kneel, and I bet the Crimson Knight didn’t either...”

”That, that’s not fair,” the young boy said as he turned his attention down the road. ”Maybe... Maybe I’ll just be the monster next time, like one of the big giants...”

The children of Lothian weren’t the only ones struggling with a world that was suddenly very different from the one they’d thought they understood.

In the inner bailey of Lothian Manor, Telent Rundel found his back slick with sweat and his heart beating faster with every impossible title the ’Lord General’ announced, starting from the moment he’d named himself the former Knight Protector of Corcan. Of all of the places the man could have come from, why did it have to be the most cursed village in all of Rundel?

”Did you count them?” Telent said quietly, leaning over as much as he could while kneeling to whisper in his wife’s ear. ”Three witches, plus the one at the gate, twice as many as the Evil Queen, and then there are the Commanders of their four armies... Maybe Lady Ashlynn wasn’t exaggerating after all...”

”I heard, I heard,” Brighde hissed. Her brows were furrowed as she looked at the manor’s gate, waiting for the moment they would finally see these powerful people who had announced themselves at the gate so she could make a real assessment of the nightmare they’d apparently fallen into.

It had been bad enough when the ’High Lord’ arrived. Even Baron Tybal Aleese seemed surprised by the clouds of snow hurling lightning at the gates at the command of the High Lord’s herald, which told Brighde that the Horse Lord had been hiding power from the forces of Lothian March for a very long time.

But was he hiding that power because it was rare, expensive, and difficult to use? Or was he hiding power because, to him, the battles against the Aleese and his horde had been too small in scale to expend significant effort?

Brighde had no way of knowing, and the arrival of ’Dame’ Sybyll Hanrahan had done little to help her understand the forces of the Eldritch. There hadn’t been any displays of power, and the cat demons who followed the vampire knight entered the inner bailey dancing and playing their drums.

From the reactions of the older knights, like Sir Gilander, who had fought beside Marquis Bors in the War of Inches, those drums were some kind of terrifying thing, but she couldn’t understand why people would be afraid of musicians.

”I want to see these giants for myself,” Brighde said. ”And this ’honor guard.’ Then I’ll know what we should do.”

”We should send our knights to the gates,” Telent whispered, glancing at the knights of Rundel who were kneeling nearby. ”Maybe they can intercept...”

”Be quiet!” Brighde hissed, suddenly nervous as she looked at the ears of the cat demons and the demons who resembled the High Lord’s herald. ”Not a word more from you until we’re back in our chambers,” she said sharply as her mind rapidly replayed their conversation to make certain they hadn’t said anything that could incriminate them.

They were safe, she thought. Any lord worth their throne would be speculating about the witches, giants, and other forces who had just arrived at their doorstep. As to what her idiot husband had started to say...

She could only hope that no one had been paying too much attention or had questions about what they would be sending knights to the gates to intercept.

Telent’s idea wasn’t necessarily bad, she thought. If they could do it quietly then...

But before she could finish the thought, her heart froze in her chest as two horses, their fur darker than ink, pulled a glorious chariot into the inner bailey. It was followed a few heartbeats later by a dashing knight atop a powerful black steed and several elegant carriages, but Brighde’s heart started pounding in her chest from the moment she saw the dark-haired woman driving the chariot, and she felt her vision narrowing down until she could see almost nothing else.

She was beautiful, more beautiful than any woman Brighde had ever seen, but it wasn’t her beauty that captured her attention. It was her eyes, like pools of the night sky staring out of a perfect face sculpted in the finest marble, that commanded Brighde’s undivided attention.

”You may rise,” the Harbinger of Death said, allowing her voice to ripple across the entire city and releasing its people from the Lord General’s command. But in the inner bailey, Brighde didn’t dare to rise, and she was far from the only person holding their breath and waiting for whatever was about to happen next...