The Vampire & Her Witch

Thane’s words cracked over the Great Hall like a peal of thunder. A few knights, particularly the vassals of Tybal Aleese, whether they’d stood or not, had the decency to look ashamed. The few who didn’t, Thane pressed even harder.

”For months, Lady Ashlynn has reminded her commanders, their captains and all of their soldiers, that we must find a way to settle old grudges without sparking new ones,” Thane said, glaring out over the assembled human nobles. ”In Hanrahan, after it fell, she compensated every villager and farmer who lost goods to her raids by paying double the value of what she took, and twice again as an apology,” Thane explained.

”In Dunn, she’s done much the same,” Thane continued. ”Lord Liam had possessed the extraordinary integrity to negotiate a truce between Dunn and the Vale, returning stolen lands or paying its fair value while accepting investments from the Vale in the name of developing a future together.”

A wave of murmurs rippled across the Great Hall at Thane’s declaration. No one had heard that Lady Ashlynn had compensated the families who suffered from her raids. It was unheard of for the victor to pay compensation to the loser in any conflict, and many eyes turned to Baron Loghlan Dunn at the central table for proof that it was true.

”Lord General Thane isn’t lying to you,” Loghlan said loudly. ”We’ve been paid well for every head of cattle and flock of sheep we lost to her Dominion’s raids. Beyond that, every inch of ground taken from the Eldritch for the past three years will be returned to them, and for every village my knights and men have destroyed in the past twenty years, reparations will be paid to those who survived.”

”In exchange, Master Isabell has agreed to solve a problem for my people,” Loghlan said, bowing his head in the direction of the silver-haired engineer at the end of the table. ”We spent some time in Maeril recently, talking about water. Floods, droughts, and water too foul to drink from the runoff of the dyeworks and the tanneries... She’s offered to help solve all of these things for the town of Dunn in the name of building a lasting peace.”

Hearing Loghlan’s confirmation, along with the far-reaching terms of the peace accord his son had negotiated, the murmurs grew even louder. At the table where Liam sat, Lady Eira sat up a little bit straighter, basking in reflected pride as she heard people openly praising the young lord of Dunn for striking such a bargain.

A few people suspected that there must be more to it than that. After all, Loghlan Dunn had been the first to stand with Lady Ashlynn when she stormed the Great Hall during Owain’s grand ceremony and there were rumors that he’d helped her forces to enter the city. More than that, his place at the central table and the responsibilities he’d carried to safeguard Lothian City in the days since Owain’s death screamed that there were things they didn’t yet know about the arrangements that had been made... Which only left the people praising Liam even more.

”We have all spilled blood,” Thane said, reclaiming the room’s attention. His gaze swept across the room, landing pointedly on not only Baron Tybal, but at Commander Savis, Lord Jalal, Rastlan, and many of the knights who were veterans of the War of Inches or the skirmishes along the southern border. ”I’ve spilled blood in every war since the Brothers’ War. At some point, it has to stop.”

”High Lord Dirar’s people demand justice for the men who have been slaughtered in lands that were once theirs to roam,” Thane concluded. ”You think he’s wrong to demand a head for that? Would you demand any less for the death of your knights and villagers, Baron Tybal?”

”I’m not demanding anything,” Tybal said, puffing up his chest and speaking for the whole room to hear. ”Because Lady Ashlynn is right. It has to stop. They’ve killed my soldiers, my knights and my villagers. I’ve killed their warriors and their ’herd.’ I can stand here, right now, and say that it ends today.”

”I need no reparations,” Tybal said, crossing his arms over his chest and standing as proudly as he could. ”I’ve taken no lands in the past three years, and what my people have lost balances much of what we’ve gained in the past twenty years.”

”Ye’ve taken no lands from tha’ Southern Steppe ’cause ye plundered the slopes o’ Airgead Mountain wit’ Bors Lothian,” Sybyll interrupted. ”Ye’ve had a chest full o’ gold, silver, an’ jewels to tide ye’ by an’ slake yer thirst. An’ ye demand nothin’ ’cause ye lack tha’ strength ta’ win ’gainst High Lord Dirar an’ his men if he came ta’ claim yer head.”

”Ye appear generous, demanding nothin’,” Sybyll scoffed. ”Tha’ truth is yer yet another coward, sellin’ out yer common folk’s need o’ justice ta’ save yer own neck.”

”That’s a bit harsh, Sybyll,” Ashlynn said, though she didn’t say it was untrue. ”But it points to a genuine problem, and one I’d been hoping to address after dinner rather than before it.”

”You’re a lucky man, Lord Tybal,” Ashlynn continued, turning her attention to the baron whose life hung in the balance. ”I had hoped that your son Rain could have done as Liam did, negotiating on your behalf to secure our protection and aid in resolving these disputes. He failed abysmally at that, but I’m still prepared to help you keep your life, and your lands...”

”Are you suggesting that you could compensate my people with gold and livestock?” Dirar said, raising an eyebrow at Ashlynn. ”They weep for their lost husbands and sons. No herd of cattle or chest of jewels can restore what they’ve lost. They demand a real victory, and the head of the lord responsible for their losses would represent one in a way that no amount of treasure ever could.”

”I understand,” Ashlynn said, nodding in agreement. ”I wouldn’t rest until I’d claimed Owain Lothian’s life, and even if he’d been willing to give up his throne, I’d still have come for his head. Some things can only be settled the old way,” she said as a slow smile spread on her lips.

”So, I have a proposal for you both,” she said, looking from Dirar to Tybal and back again. ”I won’t tolerate another war between the people of the Southern Steppe and the people of the Verdant Hills. Too many lives have been lost already,” she declared.

”I will, however, entertain a competition between champions to settle matters between you,” Ashlynn said, glancing briefly at Reynold, where he sat across from Liam. ”I wonder if both lords would be willing to accept my terms...”