The Vampire & Her Witch

The Great Hall of Baron Hanrahan could most charitably be called ’rustic.’ To Isabell’s professional eyes, it felt like a relic of an era that Blackwell County had left behind more than a century ago. The windows of the Great Hall were narrow, and had clearly been designed to double as positions for archers to stand in defense of the manor rathather than being designed to allow in as much light as possible. While they had been fitted with glass panes at some point in the past century, the glass itself was warped and cloudy and copious amounts of lead had been used to fit them in place over the widened arrow slits.

The ceiling was high and framed with timbers that supported dozens of chandaliers and the floor was strewn with fresh cut rushes, but no amount of surface treatments could make the aging fortress feel like anything other than a dark relic of an age where the thickness of your walls was the defining measurement of your ability to survive the assault of your enemies.

For Isabell and Tiernan, it felt like they were visiting the keep of one of Blackwell County’s fallen knights who refused to let go of the glory won by his ancestors, and Baron Hanrahan gave off much the same impression as those overly proud men back home.

”Master Isabell,” the pot bellied baron called as he stood from his seat at the center of the high table. ”Or should I be saying Dame Isabell now? No matter, you have come to join us and that’s all that matters,” he said, gesturing to a seat across from his own position at the high table. ”Please, come join Master Tiernan and the rest of us.”

The welcoming banquet was smaller than Isabell had expected with only two tables of guests aside from the high table itself. For a gathering attended by Owain Lothian and Lady Jocelynn, it felt small enough to be insulting, without any of the local knights in attendance outside of Baron Hanrahan’s own immediate family.

Sitting beside the chubby baron, however, Owain seemed unbothered by the insult, as though the slight wasn’t directed at him, which could only mean that the lack of fanfare for her attendance here today was a slight aimed at her and Master tiernan.

”My younger brother has heaped great praise on you,” a stylishly dressed man whose tunic was trimmed in dark fur said from his seat to the baron’s left. ”What was it you said Hugo?” Bastian Hanrahan said, turning to look at Owain’s browbeaten Steward further down the table. ”For a woman, she has both a clever mind and a surprising amount of common sense?”

”Bastian!” Hugo cried, startled out of his wits at the way his half-brother had misquoted him. ”When did I ever say anything about Master Isabell being clever ’for a woman’? I’m sure I always told you how skilled a negotiator she was, with a great mind for details,” he said, shooting an embarassed look at the master engineer as she took her seat.

”Well, well, that’s just to be expected, isn’t it?” Baron Hanrahan said with a cordial grin. ”After all, women always do mind all the little things, it’s what they’re best at. Nitpicking this and that until they’ve lost track of the big picture and the things that are truly important. Though I suppose for a builder, that might be a useful trait.”

”Baron Hanrahan,” Owain interjected from the seat to the baron’s right side. ”Please mind your words. Master Isabell has come all this way at my father’s request. She is a respected engineer, not just a simple builder,” he said, smiling at Isabell as though he were a galant knight coming to her rescue.

Behind his carefully practiced, charming smile smile, he noted with satisfaction how easily the baron had played his part in their carefully orchestrated performance. Between Baron Hanrahan’s rudeness and his own willingness to come to her rescue, he was certain that the proud engineer would soon be eager for an opportunity to prove herself on their terms.

”It’s quite all right, Lord Owain,” Isabell said with a smile that held no warmth as she reached out to serve herself a slice of the roasted venison in the center of the table. ”I’m sure Lord Hanrahan speaks from experience when he praises a woman’s ability to pay attention to small things. Lady Hanrahan must have spent a great deal of time minding very small things in order to bear him an heir, musn’t she?”

”Pfft!”

Several people at the table struggled not to spit out their wine and a ripple of laughter rose from a number of guests at the high table, including Lord Owain’s personal guard, Sir Rian. The heartiest laugh, however, came from the stocky man sitting next to Isabell as Master Tiernan went so far as to pound the table while he laughed.

”Isabell, you can’t say that sort of thing at a lord’s table,” Tiernan chastised her as he tried to suppress the grin on his face to adopt a stern tone. ”Insulting a lord at his own table can be grounds for fighting a duel, and I hear they still fight those to the death out in the frontier.”

”I apologize,” Isabell said, giving a pointed look at the baron whose face had started to turn an alarming shade of red. ”Just treat it as a small, tiny, inconsequential comment made by a woman about something equally small, tiny and inconsequential. Certainly something too small for a man of your size, that is, your stature, to be concerned over.”

”Master Isabell,” Jocelynn said from her seat beside Owain, quickly trying to find a way to get teh conversation back on track. She wanted Baron Hanrahan to antagonize Master Isabell into accepting the compromise that she and Owain would propose but she never expected the Guild Master to go on the offensive so directly against a member of the aristocracy when she had yet to receive her title and lands as a knight!

Under the table, Jocelynn’s fingers briefly pressed against Owain’s knee in silent satisfaction. The engineer’s pride was even more easily provoked than she had anticipated. She kept her seafoam eyes carefully neutral as she composed her features into a mask of diplomatic concern more suitable for the role she needed to play in order to bring her plans to fruition.

”Perhaps we should skip the small talk,” Jocelynn suggested, her voice taking on a conciliatory tone that contrasted with the calculating gleam she couldn’t entirely suppress. ”After all, we came here to give you a look at Hanrahan Barony and the vast lands available here for you to build a manor and establish a village of your own. Perhaps you could tell us what you think of what you’ve seen so far?”

”Normally, I’d be happy to share my thoughts with you, Lady Jocelynn,” Isabell said politely. ”I’m just afraid that Baron Hanrahan would find them to be ’nitpicky’ and ’unaware of the bigger picture,’” she said, giving the flustered looking baron a brief look. ”Isn’t that right, my Lord?”

”Even if your observations are ’nitpicky’,” the portly baron growled. ”I’m sure we’d all be delighted to hear what you have to say. At the very least,” he added, giving Sir Rian and Master Tiernan a sharp look. ”I’m sure there are a few people who find your words to be highly amusing. Perhaps your thoughts on our humbly barony would be equally amusing.”

”Very well, my Lord,” Isabell said, putting down her knife and fork to take a sip of watered down wine before she spoke again. ”But remember, you asked to hear my thoughts...”