The Vampire & Her Witch

Following a series of sharp orders from Barsali, the demons surrounding Carwynn’s men lowered their weapons, pulling back to form opposing ranks lining the roadway, spaced just over a dozen paces apart. Some of them looked less than pleased with their orders, but the other two serpentine demon-knights banged their weapons together as if celebrating before slithering along the dirt road to speak with their companion.

”You will be given time to tend to your armor and weapons,” the flat tailed demon said on behalf of Barsali. ”Drink water, replace your shield, do what you can in order to fight your best. You will be given five minutes to prepare.”

”Five minutes?” Carwyn asked, blinking in surprise. He’d expected to begin almost immediately.

”And not a minute longer!” the flat tailed demon said. ”I’ve started counting, so go and make peace with your vile god while you’re at it!”

Carwyn moved slowly, still testing his body for the aches and pains from his fall. It was a minor miracle that he hadn’t broken any of his limbs and that, at the worst, a few ribs had cracked from the impact. The soft mud had helped, as had the padding of his gambeson under the coat of chain mail that he wore, but there had been a tremendous amount of luck to it as well.

Before approaching his men, the young knight stopped beside the fallen body of his horse. The stench of blood and death mingled with the thick, cloying odor of decay from the mud to assault his nose, and mud had mixed with blood to obscure the once shining grey and white coat of his treasured companion.

Cloud Stepper had been his mount for nearly three years now. The horse was a gift from his father, presented to him the day after he stood his vigil and swore his oaths as a knight.

In three years, he’d never ridden Cloud Stepper into a real battle, nothing like what had happened today, but the horse had been with him everywhere he went for years. They rode together in tournaments from Hanrahan Barony to Aleese Barony and even in Lothian City last year.

More importantly, Cloud Stepper had carried him and Olwyna out into the countryside for countless picnics and excursions when he courted her. Olwyna was such a delicate woman that he felt like the proud war horse hardly noticed her weight because he never once complained of the extra burden of carrying two riders. Or perhaps it was because Olwyna always brought an apple or carrot or some other treat any time Carwyn came calling.

Now, because he’d been foolish enough to charge a demon-knight, never once thinking that it would use its tail as a weapon, his trusted companion had fallen, landing in the ditch on the opposite side of the road. If there was any saving grace to it at all, it was that the wound was clean and deep... Cloud Stepper hadn’t suffered long.

”Forgive me, my friend,” Carwyn said as he began rummaging through his saddle bags for a water skin, taking a long, deep drink before tossing the water skin aside and returning to his bags.

For a simple ride escorting wagons full of produce and oats, he hadn’t bothered with a helm or his gauntlets, but now that he had the time, he wanted every last bit of protection before facing the demon called Barsali.

Finally, after retrieving his flail from where it had fallen when he was flung from his horse, he returned to his men. When he looked in their eyes, he saw uncertainty, fear, confusion, even pain as men pressed on their wounds to stop the flow of blood. But underneath all of that, a grim determination and the faintest glimmer of hope that their liege lord could still find a path to victory for them today.

”Sir Carwyn,” one of the soldiers, a man with a dark, heavy brow and a sharp chin named Esal said as soon as the knight drew close. ”What’s going on? Why did they all stop fighting?”

”See that one with the green feathers sticking out of his helm?” Carwyn said, pointing at the serpentine demon who was making preparations and checking his armor and weapons. ”He wants to fight a duel. If I win, we can all go home and they won’t stand in our way.”

”But, your lordship,” a thin man named Touf said nervously as he clutched at the shaft of his spear hard enough that his knuckles turned white. ”You’ve just been thrown from your horse. You, you aren’t in any shape to fight a duel! It won’t be a fair fight.”

”It doesn’t matter,” Carwyn said. ”Fair or not, the demons promised that if I accept this duel, even if I lose, they won’t kill you. They may take you captive, but they’ll spare your lives.”

”But, but they’re demons,” Esal protested. ”Sir Carwyn, you can’t trust them. Most of us can still fight. Say the word and we’ll charge with you! You don’t have to fight alone!”

”Yeah!” several men echoed.

”Hounds hunt as a pack, my lord,” the second soldier said. ”Didn’t you always tell us that? A pack of hounds together can pull down a demon or a bear. We’re your hounds, my lord, don’t leave us behind!”

”They’ll just kill us after you fall,” a third man muttered through teeth clenched in pain. A dark arrow still protruded from his right arm and even if he survived the wound it was unlikely he’d ever carry a spear again. Still, he raised his shield with pride, as if he intended to use it as a battering ram against the demon soldiers. ”Better to die fighting together, right your lordship? One last charge for the bards to sing a song about.”

”No, no, none of that,” Carwyn insisted. ”Look, I don’t understand everything the demon told me... I don’t know if I believe it all either. But that one,” he said, pointing at Barsali. ”He said that wagers on duels are somehow sacred to them. That it would disgrace someone called the ’Blood Princess’ and dishonor something he called the ’Willow Whip’ if he didn’t honor the terms of our agreement.”

”But, Sir Carwyn,” another man started, only to be interrupted when the young knight stood.

”Enough,” Carwyn said. ”I already gave my word that I would fight this duel. Don’t turn me into an oath breaker. Even if the demons betray our bargain, I want to go to the heavenly shores with a clear conscience.”

”It’s time, human!” the flat tailed demon yelled from the center of the road. ”Come and meet your end!”

”One moment!” Carwyn yelled back before looking over his men one last time. ”Whatever happens,” he told his men. ”So long as they honor their words, promise me you won’t fight back. Not today. Later, if you can, you can escape, but right now, please, do this for me. Survive this, even if I don’t,” he said fiercely.

”My lord,” Esal said as his eyes brimmed with tears that he refused to shed. ”Win for us! Win so we can all go home together. Madame Olwyna, she’s waiting for you, so you have to come home too!”

”Yeah!”

”Win for us!”

”Win for the Hounds!”

”Win for the Hounds of Belvin! Win for Raek Village!”

”Win for us! Win for us! Win for us!”

The sounds of his men cheering for him stacked up one upon the next, like waves of the rising tide piling on top of each other until they became a flood of strength that surged through Carwyn’s body.

Pain faded away and even the stiffness of his cracked ribs seemed dull and distant as he lowered the visor on his helm, striding down the length of the road to where his opponent stood waiting for him.

Just minutes ago, he had prepared himself to die. Injured and outclassed by the inhuman strength of the serpentine demon, he had no reason to believe that he would emerge victorious from this duel. But somehow, with the sounds of his men cheering behind him, he found the strength to stand up tall.

And with that strength, he found the courage to believe, even for just these few moments, that it was possible for him to win the day. For his men. For Raek Village, and most importantly, for the wife who waited for her brave knight to come home and the child that was soon to be born.

For all of them, today, he would win!