The Vampire & Her Witch Chapter 1646: Beat The Drum of War
Previously on The Vampire & Her Witch...
Sir Prudici swiftly cleared the halls, posting his men at the corridors' ends leading to the Great Hall. Although Rhys wished to grant Breton time for a warm meal after his journey through the cold, time had become a luxury they no longer possessed.
Baron Domenec Hender was not the sole individual piecing together the unfolding situation. Conversations at the lower tables increasingly shifted from lighthearted reunions to serious contemplation. With each passing moment of speculation, fear and apprehension took root in the hearts and minds of the attendees. The reality of their predicament was challenging enough; the actual truth was far more extraordinary than any rumor they could conceive. It was better to confront the known facts than to be lost in the tempest of speculation and fanciful notions.
Rhys pushed away from the table, rising to survey the assembled men within the vast hall. Five barons, nearly fifty knights, and over sixty descendants of the First Crew, representing nearly every profession and trade in Blackwell County—all had answered the summons that night.
A palpable hush descended as more gazes turned toward Count Rhys. Yet, their lord remained silent. Instead, he slowly lifted his right fist, rhythmically striking his chest—a steady beat mirroring the oars of a ship's crew.
-thump-
-thump-
-thump-
For a drawn-out moment, stillness pervaded the hall. A few tradesmen at the lower tables exchanged bewildered glances, but the knights remained motionless, observing their lord's solemn gesture.
Baron Breton Stackpole was the first to rise, joining Rhys in the display. As he stood, he mirrored Rhys's action, pounding his chest with a deliberate, rhythmic -thump-.
"So, it has truly come to this," Baron Amren Dalais remarked, standing to join Rhys and Breton. His hand moved reflexively, striking his chest with a solid, resonant -thump- that belied the inner turmoil he felt. His ancestor, Austor The Slug, had commanded the oar deck of the Black Tide, making Amren acutely aware of the purpose and power conveyed by a drumbeat.
"I told you so," Baron Domenec Hender declared, slowly rising to his feet. Though his joints were aged and stiff, and his youthful vigor had waned, his hand remained sure and steady as he joined the others, matching Rhys's consistent rhythm.
By the time Barons Cir Recarde and Mervyn Stormwarden joined the standing assembly, over two dozen knights had already done the same. The steady sound of fists striking chests reverberated against the ancient stone walls, silent witnesses to generations of Blackwell lords and heroes.
-THUMP-
-THUMP-
-THUMP-
From the ranks of the knights, the signal spread to the tradesmen and the common folk, until the entire hall stood united with their lord, the percussive beat echoing towards the ceiling beams.
-THUMP!-
-THUMP!-
-THUMP-
Once every man was on his feet, Rhys lowered his raised arms, the signal for quiet no longer needed.
"I am Rhys," he proclaimed, his voice imbued with a power that transcended mere lung capacity. The pearl earring adorning his ear caught the light from the whale oil lamps, lending him a measure of its strength as he spoke with a voice that could carry from the stern to the bow of his mightiest ship, even amidst the fiercest storm.
"I am Rhys, Lord of the Black Sails, and tonight, I beat the drums of war!"
A ripple of uncertainty passed through the hall as some exchanged glances. Rhys had invoked the ancient form of his title, not proclaiming himself 'Rhys, Count of Blackwell,' but 'Rhys, Lord of the Black Sails.'
This title had not been used since the time of Oisin Blackwell, who had relinquished the autonomy of the Nation of Black Sails to merge with the newly established Kingdom of Gaal. Since that era, they had been known as Blackwells, and the phrase 'Black Sails' had largely faded from collective memory within the county.
"We stand with you!" Baron Mervyn responded, his voice a loud, booming resonance that nearly matched Rhys's own. However, an underlying hint of uncertainty diminished the full impact of his words. "But who is our foe, my Lord? And when do we set sail against them?"
Baron Mervyn, along with all the lords and knights of Blackwell, were acutely aware of the Holy War gathering momentum in Lothian. As spring approached, ships would begin their voyage from the old country, carrying hundreds, perhaps thousands, of men who had taken up arms in the name of their faith, seeking opportunity and a new existence in the new world.
For several years, the county had been making preparations to contribute to the Holy War, primarily in logistical support. The Holy Warriors making passage across the sea would leave their original vessels behind, boarding Blackwell riverboats for their journey to DuCoumont. From there, they would be compelled to travel overland through Otker Canyon to reach Lothian March, the frontier where the conflict against the Eldritch would unfold.
It was quite possible that a number of knights and soldiers from Blackwell would be drawn into the conflict of the Holy Warriors presently engaged in Lothian. After all, Lady Ashlynn had become the wife of Lord Owain Lothian, and for this reason alone, many men would set sail to aid their lady in her new domicile. However, Rhys was not summoning them to join the Holy War at this early stage... or so Baron Mervyn and the other lords suspected, particularly when he referred to himself as the 'Lord of the Black Sails.' Such a title could never be claimed by an individual fighting alongside the forces of the Church. Therefore, against whom were they waging war? "We are at war with a significant portion of the world, my friend," Rhys declared with gravity. "Against the ancient and the new nations, against both the Church and the Crown. We find ourselves encircled by enemies on every front," he stated, eliciting a collective intake of breath from those assembled in the great hall. "Our war has persisted for approximately nine months now," Rhys continued. "And the responsibility rests with me, for at the outset of all this, I made the incorrect choice regarding allegiance..."