The Vampire & Her Witch

”My father kept many secrets,” Hugo said, shaking his head and glowering at the bound and gagged man who was responsible for guiding the course of his life for so many years, until he dumped his bastard son on Owain Lothian in an attempt to wash his hands of the young man. ”I was one of his secrets for most of my life.”

Even Hugo hadn’t known who his father was for most of his life. His mother only told him that he was an ’important man’ in the distant frontier. That he was wealthy and powerful, and that he would provide for them.

But his mother understood that children were horrible keepers of secrets, and so in order to keep Ian Hanrahan’s secret safe, she’d kept the identity of Hugo’s father a secret, even from him. It was only years later that Hugo discovered that the controlling baron had threatened to cut off the six silver pennies he sent her every month if word of Hugo’s parentage ever circulated.

Later, once Hugo learned the truth, the same threat applied to him. His father was willing to pay for his schooling and subsidize his expenses as a young scholar, but only so long as Hugo never set foot in Lothian March or spread word about his true status as a nobleman’s son.

”That’s why he sent me to live in Keating Duchy and had me sent to a school there,” Hugo explained with eyes that glittered with memories of a simpler, happier time before he’d been dragged into his father’s schemes.

”He wanted me far enough away that no one in Lothian March would easily discover my existence,” he said with a trace of bitterness creeping into his voice. ”But he wanted me close enough that he could call me home if there was ever an emergency that required his ’spare heir.’ I never even met my father until Bastian fell from his horse a few years ago and Father finally summoned me home. Until then, I didn’t even know who my own father was.”

Beneath the dais, Cossot and Roseen looked up at the young lord with a renewed sense of pity. They were both much younger when the hawk-nosed scholar showed up in the barony, stepping out of a carriage from far away to much fanfare and praise as Baron Hanrahan ’welcomed his son home.’ At the time, countless children had played make-believe, imagining how wonderful it would be to discover that they were the hidden heir to a powerful lord.

Only later would they begin to see the cracks in the childish fantasy, particularly when Bastian recovered and Hugo’s presence in Hanrahan became an awkward reminder of their liege lord’s indiscretions. But they’d never imagined that the young lord had suffered for much of his youth without even knowing his own father’s name...

”I know that you were estranged from him for many years,” Diarmuid said in a carefully neutral tone to the young lord who had chosen to side with the demons over his own people. Hugo might be a tragic figure, but in the Inquisitor’s mind, that didn’t excuse turning his back on his countrymen and giving his loyalty to the demons.

Many men struggled with such burdens without turning to creatures of darkness to vent their grievances, and no matter how Hugo had suffered, it wasn’t an excuse for heresy and treason. But Hugo wasn’t the one on trial at the moment, and Diarmuid pressed on with his questions even as he wrestled with his discomfort at the young lord’s decisions.

”But for a short time, Ian Hanrahan was preparing you as his heir,” the Inquisitor said. ”Wasn’t there anything he said to you? Any warnings about the Crimson Knight that would indicate he knew about the consequences of his actions? Or was there anything else he might have revealed to you that would help in rendering a judgment here?”

Diarmuid was casting a wide net, but at the moment, he still struggled to name the crime that Ian Hanrahan was guilty of. If he knowingly killed Baroness Caitlin, then he was guilty of magnicide and of concealing his crime. If he believed the old woman to be an imposter and killed her without investigating her claim, then he was guilty of a lesser crime and abuse of his authority to wield high justice on behalf of the Lothian Marquis and the King of Gaal.

Which crimes he was guilty of hinged on what Ian Hanrahan knew at the time he’d executed Dame Sybyll’s mother, and even though Diarmuid suspected the man of lying to preserve his own life, he couldn’t say for certain that Ian Hanrahan believed himself to be responsible for his own aunt’s death.

The penalties for the lesser crimes were still severe, but they fell far short of a death sentence. And unless Diarmuid heard evidence of something so dire that it warranted death, he would be obligated to oppose Dame Sybyll if she insisted on executing her cousin. If that was the result of his investigation, then that was what he would do... but Diarmuid couldn’t help but hope that he would find something that would justify letting the vampire on the throne have her way without tearing away the wafer-thin layer of civility that had formed between demons and humans in the Hanrahan great hall.

”I know that my father is a cheat and a swindler,” Hugo said with a heavy sigh, wishing he could give the Inquisitor what he wanted. ”I know that he keeps two sets of ledgers because he asked for my help in creating the forgery for the Lothian’s steward to inspect,” he said. ”I know that he has raised the tithe collected from his merchants and farmers by two parts in twenty over the past five years, but he has reduced the amount he sends to the Lothians by three parts in twenty over the same period,” he explained.

Hugo’s voice hadn’t been very loud; perhaps only the front half of the hall could clearly hear what he said, but even that was enough to send shockwaves rippling through the wealthy and influential people who had made their way to the front rows of seats at the beginning of the late-night gathering as if they belonged there.

”Unbelievable,” Cossot’s father, Gaius, the famed whitesmith, muttered darkly. ”So, where has all the gold we’ve been sending him actually gone? If the Lothians aren’t demanding it in order to fight the demons off in the south and the north, then where has the money been going? He can’t have been spending it on his own army, or they wouldn’t have put up such a pathetic fight tonight!”

”What do ye know ’bout raisin’ and equippin’ armies, Gaius,” the blacksmith sitting nearby countered. ”Do ye know how much it costs ta’ get good steel from tha’ foundries in Keating fer forgin’ fine weapons an’ stout armor? Or even just tha’ mendin’ of it all?”

”No,” the richly dressed whitesmith admitted. ”But I know how much gold he’s taken from me, and from every jeweler or master carver in town for the past five years, and it adds up to enough gold to build a whole village! He even had Head Priest Germot up in front of us last year, saying that we must dig deeply to support the people keeping us safe from the demons and providing for the people in the march who lost their livelihoods to demon raids,” he spat. ”I bet that priest was taking a cut of the extra for his own coffers...”

”Well, maybe ye’ll get lucky,” the blacksmith said quietly, nodding his head in the direction of the two young women standing at the base of the dais, patiently awaiting the whims of the woman sitting on the gilded throne. ”Yer daughter seems ta’ have caught Dame Sybyll’s favor. Maybe she can get yer money back,” he said with a toothy grin, before his smile faded as he thought about how close he’d come to closing up his business a few years ago when the tithes went up so sharply.

”But, if yer daughter can get yer money back,” the blacksmith added in a more serious tone. ”Tell her ta’ get mine back too!”

Around the hall, the pair of smiths weren’t the only ones wondering where their money had gone if it hadn’t been spent on increased Lothian taxes. An increase of two parts in twenty hadn’t been enough to force many of them out of business, but it had ruined many of their plans to do more.

For some, it meant putting off repairs in their shops or making do with older, worn-out tools. For others, it meant disappointing their wives and children when there wasn’t enough money left for the little luxuries that made all their hard work worthwhile.

But it was the people outside the great hall who had suffered the worst when once profitable businesses tightened their belts and let go of staff who had worked for one family or another for nearly half their lives. It was those people who were driven out into the cold who filled up the increasingly run-down neighborhoods of Hanrahan town closest to the town walls.

And while there were some men in the great hall tonight who didn’t care much for the troubles of the people who had once labored for them, many others saw their staff as extensions of their own families. They watched as people they’d invited over on feast days and shared festivals with grew thinner, and more wretched as the years wore on, until they could barely recognize the people they’d turned into...

Just like people had been unable to recognize Baroness Caitlin, they realized. And that hardship, every bit of it, had flowed from Ian Hanrahan and his father, Aiden!