The Vampire & Her Witch

”I think you’re getting ahead of yourselves,” Diarmuid said as he returned to his seat, pausing awkwardly when he realized that Sir Tommin’s acquisition of a Holy Light Blade had turned him into the most junior member of the clergy present.

”I told you that High Inquisitor Ignatious studied these Undying Demons at length,” Diarmuid continued as he walked to the table filled with refreshments near the hearth, filling a fresh pitcher with fragrant mulled wine before returning to his table and refilling the cups in front of High Priest Aubin and Sir Tommin before refilling his own cup and draining half of it down almost immediately.

”These ’Undying Demons’ aren’t born as such,” the Inquisitor explained. ”Rather, they are made into vampires and bestowed great strength by the Demon Lady of the Vale whom they called their ’Blood Queen,’” he explained.

More accurately, the records left behind by High Inquisitor Ignatious had used the very specific title ’Blood Princess of the Arena’ for the Demon Lady of the Vale, but the church had decided long ago to use the title ’Blood Queen’ for the fearsome demon.

After all, if she were a Princess, it implied an even greater threat that she could one day grow into, or a more powerful figure beyond her, and the notion of titles earned in an arena sounded more sophisticated than the Church wanted to give demons credit for being. ’Blood Queen’ sounded more menacing and preserved the people’s understanding of the demons as savages ruled by blood-thirsty monsters far better than the actual title the demons used would.

”So you’re saying that these are ordinary demons,” Owain said, giving Jocelynn a brief look and tapping on his empty cup. Already, the young lord was losing much of his interest in hunting these demons if they weren’t the famed ’Undying Demons’ that had brought an end to the rule of the greatest ancestor in the history of the Lothian March.

Owain had long ago made it a goal to kill the Demon Lady of the Vale, or at least drive her to the other side of the mountains permanently. If he could achieve what even Cellach Lothian never had, then nothing could topple him from his place as the greatest Lothian to ever lead the family. More importantly, bringing home a trophy like the head of the famed Demon Lady, who had tormented human lands for more than a century, would earn such great rewards that the King and the Ruling Council would be forced to elevate him to a position on the Council.

If Undying Demons had emerged once again, and if he could find a way to force his brother and this Inquisitor to share the methods for killing them, then the demons would become the perfect stepping stones to resolve the succession dispute while he prepared for the Holy War to come. But if they were just ordinary demons...

”So is it just that they just haven’t been turned into Undying Demons yet?” Owain asked, taking a refilled cup from Jocelynn’s outstretched hand and taking a sip as he stared at the men from the Church. ”If that’s the case, then what are they doing attacking our villages? Auditioning for the Demon Lady of the Vale in the hopes that she’ll turn them into her next Undying Demons?”

”What if it’s simpler than that?” Baron Leufroy said, breaking his silence at last. ”Just a few nights ago, a mighty storm struck the western lands. What if these demons come from the lands west of the mountains and they’re simply searching for food after storms ravaged their own lands?”

”High Priest Aubin,” Valeri said as he turned to look at the white-haired old man. ”The Church has long been our guide for predicting the next year’s weather. All my life, we’ve counted on the Church’s warnings of drought or floods. We’ve been able to plant more in boon years and stockpile against lean ones, but we’ve never asked about the weather across the mountains in the lands the demons still hold.”

”I understand what you’re asking, Baron Leufroy,” the High Priest answered in a patient tone, as though speaking to a young pupil even though the Baron had already entered his fifties. ”But the gaze of men, even ones as devout as Sir Tommin or young lord Loman, cannot easily pierce the veil that separates the world of men from the world of demons.”

”Perhaps one of the Exemplars could answer your question,” he continued. ”We rely on their writings for many things, and their vision isn’t as limited as the sight of lesser men. All I can tell you is that this storm, whatever it was, does not represent a Great Change. The Exemplars have given us no warnings of it, which means that whatever brought on this storm is little more than happenstance and not a change in the workings of the world.”

”I see,” the aging baron said, bowing formally to conceal the look of disappointment that flickered across his face. ”I thank High Priest Aubin for enlightening me.”

”We can waste many hours in speculation,” Bors Lothian said from his throne, now that the conversation about the mysterious demons seemed to have reached enough of a stumbling block that he could guide the discussion in a more useful direction.

So long as the conversation had allowed Loman a chance to prove the value of his knowledge to the other lords, Bors had been willing to let him speak. But once matters turned into speculation and grasping at straws about the weather, as if the strange storm must be connected to the demons simply because the attacks occurred at the same time, Bors saw no reason to let it continue.

”I would rather hear things that are facts than things that are mere conjecture,” he said, pausing to cough into his handkerchief before he continued. ”Young Lord Liam, Young Lord Bastian, tell us how much you have lost in men and harvest. The autumn tithes are due, and we must prepare for next year’s war.”

”Tell me,” he said, leaning forward in his gilded throne and staring intently at the two young men. ”Can your baronies still meet their obligations to both?”