The Vampire & Her Witch

Liam would have loved nothing more than to hike up the hill to his father’s tent in order to explain everything that he’d been through and everything he’d witnessed in the days since he ’disappeared.’ In a perfect world, he’d have ridden at least an hour away from here to have that conversation where he could be certain that no prying ears would overhear.

Unfortunately for Liam and his parents as well, there were expectations that had to be met, or all manner of rumors would fly through the camp overnight.

”We’ll have time for a serious discussion before the night is done,” Loghlan said, throwing an arm around Liam’s shoulder and pulling him close. ”With so many of our knights and captains here tonight, joining them for dinner is unavoidable. Keep quiet about what you must, share what you can, and we’ll excuse ourselves early.”

”Can you manage that much, son?” Loghlan asked. ”Or did you rush here with demons close behind you? If we need to prepare for battle...”

”No, no, nothing like that,” Liam said quickly. ”We’re not in any immediate danger,” he promised, barely biting his tongue before mentioning that if anyone were foolish enough to attack them, Sir Ollie alone would be more than enough to handle the threat.

Liam still woke in a cold sweat, remembering the howling voices that Sir Ollie had called forth from the void, and that had only been a small demonstration of the young witch’s power among friends and allies. He shuddered to think of what the Cypress Witch could do if he needed to fight seriously, and he didn’t want to find out any time soon.

”In that case, tell the cooks to prepare a feast,” Loghlan shouted. ”Since we won’t need to leave anyone behind to search for this brat,” he said as he affectionately pounded Liam’s back. ”We can all eat well tonight before we break camp in the morning.”

”Sir Ollie, was it? Could you do me the favor of escorting me to dinner? I feel a touch forgotten about,” Mairwen said with a lighthearted smile, as she stepped up next to the flame-haired youth who had arrived with her son.

”Don’t mind my husband too much,” she continued as Ollie gallantly took her arm to escort her toward the large dining tent that had been set up closer to the cook fires and the river’s edge. ”I’m sure that there must be quite the story to tell, and that much of it won’t be for everyone’s ears,” she added quietly. ”But then, if you’re from Blackwell, I’m sure you know the art of conversation at these gatherings even better than my husband’s knights do.”

”I’m sure everything will be fine,” Ollie said, doing his best to hide away his nervousness at the idea of having to sit through a dinner with Liam’s family and their vassals. Formal dinners in the Vale of Mists were one thing. He knew what was expected there, and he held considerable status as a member of Lady Ashlynn’s coven.

Now, at least for the moment, Ollie was playing the role of a simple knight. He didn’t have the overwhelming halo of his position or Lady Ashlynn’s to plaster over any mistakes he made or silly things he said.

But more than that, there was a part of him that hoped the dinner would go well. For years, he’d labored in the Lothian’s kitchens, dreaming of one day being a knight, taking part in the banquets, and doing the heroic things that knights did. For a boy in the kitchens, it was nothing more than a flight of fancy, and yet, it had become a reality.

In a few minutes, Ollie would take his place at a table of knights and lords along with their ladies, and he would do it as one of their peers. Moreover, he was the first member of Lady Ashlynn’s coven who would meet with these noblemen, and it was his duty to ensure that he represented her well.

The Dunn’s were ultimately practical people, and though they traveled in luxury the likes of which few merchants could match, the tent where they would eat their evening meal was hardly opulent. The tent itself was supported by several poles and ropes, and even along the walls of the tent, a tall man like Ollie would have no difficulty standing upright.

Inside, straw mats had been laid on the cold, winter ground, but there were no luxurious carpets here, nor fine linen table coverings for the pair of long wooden tables that could be taken apart in sections in order to fit into a wagon. The chairs were simple, sturdy, and, like the tables, could be easily stacked for transportation.

”I’m sure this must strike you as rather plain,” Lady Mairwen said when she and Ollie entered the tent. ”We rarely travel with such a large entourage, and when we do, it’s generally part of a campaign against the demons. Thankfully, none of the ladies who are joining us tonight are the fussy sort who demand luxury every time they leave their manors, but I imagine that Blackwell is a bit different, isn’t it?”

”I wouldn’t know, Lady Mairwen,” Ollie said politely as he escorted her to a seat next to Lord Loghlan at the center of one of the tables. ”I was born and raised in Lothian. I hope to visit Blackwell someday in the future,” he added as he took a seat next to Liam, across the table from the baron and baroness. ”But it may be some time before that’s possible.”

”Really?” Loghlan said, looking at Ollie in genuine surprise. He’d expected that the old-fashioned manners were something that he’d been trained on in the well-established territories to the east, where the noble families had been ruling over their domains for one or even two hundred years before the founding of Lothian March and Dunn Barony.

”Which knight trained you, Sir Ollie?” Loghlan asked politely as servants began filing into the large tent, setting out platters and utensils for the meal. ”If you don’t mind my asking, that is,” he added quickly when he received a warning look from his son.

But the look still caught Loghlan off guard. For Liam to return to them alive and well but without any of his escorts was odd, and the fact that he claimed to have seen Lady Ashlynn more recently than she was said to have been taken captive by demons implied that Liam had become privy to a good number of secrets, including the mysterious young knight he’d returned with.

Yet surely this ’Sir Ollie Heartwood’ couldn’t be so much of a secretive fellow that even the name of the knight who trained him was off limits... could he?