The Vampire & Her Witch

”This is quite the welcome, Baron Hanrahan,” Loman said diplomatically as he surveyed the opulence and excess on display in the great hall. ”I had thought that the raids and the storms must be a great strain on the people of Hanrahan,” he said as he turned his attention to Baron Ian and his son Bastian.

”Clearly, I underestimated how resilient your people are, and how deep and strong the roots they’ve sunk into the soil of the barony,” Loman praised. ”I’ll be sure to let my father and his steward know that young lord Bastian must have been mistaken about your ability to make your spring and summer tithes.”

Behind him, Inquisitor Diarmuid smiled, and his dark eyes glittered with approval as he watched the former priest take a very direct but calculated stand against the Baron’s excess while his people faced crisis. It would have been a step too far to suggest that the food on the tables should be given to the poor and needy outside in the cold. Such a statement would come as a direct challenge to the Baron’s character and authority in front of all of the important figures in his territory.

However, by framing it as Bastian’s mistake, Loman both absolved the Baron of any blame for wrongdoing and simultaneously clawed back the concessions Bors Lothian had made to their tithes in the coming year. The slap would actually hurt Baron Hanrahan much more than a simple rebuke about his handling of the current crisis would, but he could protest it far less.

While Diarmuid would have far preferred to see swift justice done for the people who were struggling to keep themselves warm tonight, he had long come to accept the circumspect way in which noblemen like the baron and the Lothian heir apparent negotiated concessions without calling direct attention to their very real failings. So long as the former priest was still willing to stand up for what was right, Diarmuid would find ways to give him what support he could.

”Surely you jest, young Lord Loman,” Baron Hanrahan said with a deep, belly-shaking laugh as he wrapped an arm around Loman’s shoulders and began guiding him toward the high table at the head of the great hall. ”I know that Bastian can exaggerate a bit at times, he’s a good son who wants to do the best he can for his father and the barony that will be his one day soon.”

”But I assure you,” Ian Hanrahan added as he gave his son a knowing look. ”The facts and figures my son reported were verified by my own personal Steward before he left for Lothian City. He wouldn’t have dared to report anything different, not to a single bushel of cabbage or sack of flour!”

”No, Father, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Bastian said quickly as he stepped in to support his father. ”The losses from places like Raek Village, where an entire caravan was taken, were just as extensive as we’ve said. Combined with the damage from the storm,” he said helplessly as he offered a shrug. ”It really is just as we’ve said. You can inspect the ledgers yourself if you’d like.”

Of course, the set of ledgers that were maintained for inspection by representatives of the Lothian Court was very different from the ledgers kept in the Baron’s chambers. A few casks of meat here, a ton of flour there... Eights that became sixes in official ledgers, or nines that became eights, they were all things that could be dismissed as simple errors if there was ever a dispute, but each of them added up to a tidy sum for the barony each year when the final accounting was due at year’s end.

Of course, it never would have become so hard to detect without Hugo’s help during the time that Bastian had been recovering from his fall. As much as the young lord despised his bastard brother, he had to admit that the cowardly scholar had paid back the money their father invested in having him educated in Keating Duchy. Now, Bastian had every confidence that the ledgers would stand up to any inspection, even if it were to be conducted by the Marquis’s own steward.

”This display is only the least of what such important guests are due,” Ian Hanrahan said with a warm, ingratiating smile. ”My liege lord’s own son comes to visit and help rescue us from demons, bringing with him an Inquisitor and a Templar who bears a Holy Light Blade. How could my courtesy be anything less than this?”

”We might face a lean winter as the months wear on,” the portly baron said smoothly, with an expression that looked like he feared the difficulties ahead. ”But I won’t have it be said that our courtesy is lacking, or that we aren’t loyal to the Lothian House and pious before the chosen hands of the Holy Lord of Light,” he said, letting the words roll off his tongue with practiced ease that would put the star of a theatre troupe to shame.

”We appreciate the welcome of such a pious lord,” Diarmuid said as he took an extra half step to match strides with Baron Hanrahan. ”Since I’m certain that your lordship has heard of the great tragedies in the outer quarters of Hanrahan Town, perhaps you’ve heard that there will be a number of pyres lit at the temple when the sun sets.”

”Can we count on your attendance to send the most unfortunate of your people off on their journey to the Heavenly shores or the next life that awaits them?” Diarmuid asked as he raised a dark brow at the portly baron.

”Come now, Inquisitor, isn’t that a bit much?” a rich, cultured voice said from the high table as they arrived to take their seats. ”The gathering tonight belongs to the common folk. How can they open their hearts and let out their feelings for their loved ones if they must remain stoic and proper before their liege lord?”

The man who spoke wore the same white and gold robes that Loman had once worn as a priest of the Holy Lord of Light. The only difference was that Germot wore a heavy emblem around his neck, depicting the sun on one side and a star-filled sky on the other, marking him as the Head Priest of the local temple.

Just a few months ago, Loman would have bowed respectfully to the council of an elder whose dull brown hair was already starting to turn silver with his advancing age and growing wisdom, but today, Loman’s perspective had changed too much to accept the words at face value.

”Perhaps they would find it stifling, Head Priest Germot,” Loman carefully acknowledged, though he refused to give up on pressuring the Hanrahan lord over the issue. ”But perhaps they would also find it heartening to know that their lord mourned their losses alongside them,” in the hopes that forcing the Baron to directly confront his grieving people would force him to do something, anything, more than he already was to care for the people who were caught up in this tragedy.

”There will be many more losses to mourn in the days to come if we can’t cleanse our lands of this demon scourge,” Baron Hanrahan said as he finally found the opportunity to put the young lord on his back foot that he’d been seeking in their slippery conversation.

”Please, join us all,” he said as he gestured to the most important guests gathered at the high table. ”And tell us, how exactly are you going to track down these insidious demons who vanish like mist and pillage as they please? How are you going to make my barony safe again?”