The Vampire & Her Witch

Ashlynn’s question landed on Inquisitor Diarmuid in much the same way it fell on Loman, though the older man’s response was substantially different.

Diarmuid couldn’t deny what he would have done had he stood in Sir Tommin’s shoes on the night that Owain attempted to murder his wife for bearing the mark of a witch. As an Inquisitor, his duty was clear, and if Ashlynn had been alive, and he’d known nothing of her beyond her name and station, he would have carried her away to the Church in the hopes of keeping her alive until they reached the Holy City.

A man who knew nothing, but possessed clear instructions and was vested with great power was one of the most dangerous men in the world, and Diarmuid was honest enough to admit that, on the night of Ashlynn’s wedding to Owain Lothian, he had been just such a man.

At most, he would have taken Owain Lothian into custody along with Ashlynn Blackwell, and he would have been prepared to surrender Owain to the King’s justice for the crime of attempted magnicide if the Church concluded that Ashlynn was an innocent woman. It would have infuriated Bors Lothian, and there were factions within the Church who would have been furious about the disruption to their plans to use the Lothians as the point of a spear in the coming Holy War, but it would have been the right thing to do based on what he would have known at the time.

His answer changed considerably, however, if he took into account everything he had learned about Ashlynn Blackwell during his months of investigation. She bore the mark of a witch, and the mark was genuine... But she wasn’t a wicked woman. Confronted by the contradiction of a woman bearing the mark of a witch while simultaneously dedicating herself to ways to better her home County of Blackwell or later, her adopted home of Lothian March, he couldn’t easily declare her guilt.

An Inquisitor sought truth, and if he blindly handed her over to his superiors, he would never unravel the truth of her existence. He wasn’t about to say that he would have been capable of bringing her to a place like the Vale of Mists, but he certainly could have carried her away to somewhere safe and hidden where he could ask her questions in order to understand the truth of her existence.

And then... he didn’t know. Part of him liked to think that he would have kept her secret, perhaps returning her to her home in Blackwell County. Another part of him felt that he would have faced his superiors, pleading her case and defending her innocence. There weren’t any easy answers, but he liked to think that he would have started from trying to understand.

His answer today, however, would have shocked the man he’d been just weeks ago. There was a greater truth in the world to discover, and he’d started to see glimpses of that greater truth. Now he felt like he was walking into the darkness while carrying a flickering torch bearing the Holy Lord of Light’s flame. If he wanted to shine a light on that greater truth, he needed to be willing to walk among the people he’d once called demons, and he would have to learn to listen to the answers they gave him.

The man he was today would have struggled with the decision Lady Ashlynn’s question demanded, but Diarmuid wanted to believe that he would have carried her into the Vale of Mists in search of safety and answers to the many questions that plagued him since his first encounter with Lady Heila.

It was impossible to say for certain what he would have done in the situation Sir Tommin had been in. Surprise, panic, the presence of Sir Broll, the orders and expectations coming from Lord Owain all would have combined to influence his ability to make good decisions, but he hoped that he would have done better for the young woman than to dump her in a shallow grave and bury her alive.

Beside him, kneeling on the flagstones of the courtyard, Sir Tommin shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cold, misty air. Lady Ashlynn’s hand felt warm on his cheek, like the sun shining on a cold, dark world, but that warmth brought no comfort. Instead, it reminded him of the light of the world that he’d lost, and how empty and hollow he’d become in the days since his duel with the Crimson Knight.

He desperately wanted to return to that light, to a world that was filled with warmth and purpose. To a world where he could dedicate his sword to a worthy purpose and where his life had meaning. He wanted, more than anything, to stand with pride again as a knight, and so he gave Lady Ashlynn the answer that a knight should.

”If I’d known that you were alive,” he said, licking his cracked lips and swallowing heavily to wet his parched throat. ”Then I would have fought for you. A knight defends his lady, and you were my Lord’s wife. I, I would have fought for you,” he said, using words that sounded proper even though there were many doubts in his heart.

After all, while it was true that a knight defends his lady, would he really have defended his lady against her own husband? He had fought at Sir Broll’s side for years longer than he’d known Lady Ashlynn... If Broll had remained loyal to Owain’s orders, would Tommin really have been able to raise his sword against his friend?

He doubted it. Still, the words he spoke were appropriate for any knight to speak, and he was a knight. No matter what had happened, he was still a knight, even if he no longer possessed the faith to be a Templar, and he clung to that identity as he spoke words that even he wasn’t certain were true.

”I’m a knight,” he repeated. ”And a knight...”

-SMACK-

The sound of Ashlynn’s hand slapping Sir Tommin’s cheek echoed across the courtyard, sounding even louder than it should have in the muted quiet of the fog shrouded day. That sound was followed seconds later by the sound of Tommin’s body falling heavily to the ground, sprawling in an undignified heap as her blow threw him off balance.

”Do not lie to me, Tommin,” Ashlynn fumed, reaching out with one hand to grab a fistful of his tunic and standing up, dragging him to his feet as she did. With one hand gripping his tunic, she placed the other hand on his opposite cheek, ignoring the trickle of blood that spilled from his split lip as she glared at the trembling knight.

”Don’t think that I won’t know when you lie,” she snarled at the shivering, blinded knight. ”Can you really tell me, honestly and truthfully, that you would have fought Sir Broll to rescue me? That you would have defied Owain’s orders to bury me?”

Standing just a few paces away from her, Loman’s eye opened wide in surprise as the refined, almost petite woman that he’d once shared tea with let loose her fury on Sir Tommin. It wasn’t just the sharp change in her demeanor that shocked him, however, or the way she turned so quickly to violence.

He’d seen men like his brother who were similarly quick to temper, and given what Tommin had done to her, he could hardly blame her for having a kettleful of pent up anger and resentment to take out on the man.

What shocked him more than that was the sheer physical power of her assault on the knight who had, until recently, been known as one of the strongest Templars in the whole of Lothian March, and a swordsman second only to Owain Lothian. Tommin stood head and shoulders taller than Lady Ashlynn, and he outweighed her by a considerable amount, yet in her hands, he looked no more formidable than a kitten scruffed by its mother... and one that was in just as much trouble as a disobedient child.

Just as he’d begun to doubt the Church’s wisdom in declaring witches a danger to all mankind, and treating them as a threat that must be extinguished, he saw his first proof of the power his sister-in-law had come to possess since she began to use the powers of a witch, and once again, he found his heart filled with uncertainty and doubt.

Just how much had the kind, gentle Ashlynn changed? And how much of it was because she was a witch, a demon inherently predisposed to destruction, and how much was because of what his brother had done to her and everything she had suffered ever since? He didn’t know, but for the first time since he’d seen his sister-in-law, now returned from the dead, he was afraid of the answer.