The Vampire & Her Witch Chapter 1782: A Vigil’s Attendees

While Nyrielle helped Ashlynn write what felt like the most difficult letter of Ashlynn’s life, the people of Lothian City turned elsewhere for comfort and help for themselves.

Rivers of people poured through the city, bumping and jostling against each other as they made their way toward the Great Temple at the city’s heart.

"Do ya think it’s really true?" a carter in a heavy and frequently patched wool cloak asked his neighbor. "Do ya really think tha’ Holy City sent a High Inquisitor all tha’ way out ’ere ta’ protect us from tha’ demons that raided tha’ Hanrahans an’ tha’ Dunns?"

"I heard he weren’t happy ’bout bein’ shut out o’ tha’ weddin’ feast," a nearby woman said. "Caused a ruckus at tha’ manor’s gates, he did," she swore solemnly. "Lord Owain can’t o’ been pleased ’bout that!"

"I don’ much care if it’s true or not," the carter’s neighbor said. "I came fer tha’ other part. Supper t’night an’ breakfast t’morrow fer standin’ a vigil like a knight an’ sayin’ some prayers t’night... Say, ya’ think they’s got proper meat fer us t’night? I ain’t had but fish ’ead stew an’ hearth cakes since Lord Owain shut the gates fer’ tha Grand Ceremony."

"An’ whose fault is that, ay?" the carter said with a snort. "Get yerself a good woman or learn yerself how ta’ cook why don’t ya?"

Elsewhere in the crowd, a trio of young men pushed eagerly through the crowd, ducking and weaving around older, slower-moving folk as they set their sights on the imposing gate in the Great Temple’s fortress wall.

"Yastin! Norit, Thun! Wait for me," a fourth, and significantly larger young man said as he struggled to maneuver his burly frame through the crowd.

"Come on, Bosh!" the first of the young men, called Yastin, yelled back, pausing only long enough to wave encouragingly to his friend to hurry up. "This is our chance to show the Temple Guard that we can stand vigil, just like knights. They’ll have to take us in after this," he said confidently.

"You said that last spring," Bosh huffed. "When the Temple Guard lined the streets. For Lady Ashlynn and Lord Owain’s wedding at the Great Temple."

"They didn’t have enough men!" Yastin protested. "It was clear as day they needed more help."

"Not from the likes of us," the second youth added. He was a gangly boy of sixteen summers who insisted that ’Norit’ was a better name than the one his mother had given him, even though none of his companions knew what that other name might be.

"It takes silver and gold in the collection plate to get a posting to the Temple Guard," Norit said. "No one gets in who can’t pay for their own armor and kit."

"They say praying helps," the third boy said, wiping a nose that had turned red from the cold and smearing a line of fresh snot on an already grimy sleeve. "They know who the true believers are. That’s why I’ve been coming every morning before sunup since winter turned cold, to pray with the pensioners and the widows. That stuff matters, you know..."

"What matters is that there’s demons all but at the gates," Yastin insisted. "I heard that Lord Owain tripled the levy on every lord for soldiers. If we don’t get in the Temple Guard soon, someone’ll press us into the lord’s army come spring..."

"You won’t get pressed if you have work," Bosh said, catching up at last. "I have work at the docks, loading and unloading. You lot could come work with me. We always need more hands..."

"You don’t know what it’ll be like when the pressers come..." Yastin said. "My da had work before. A cooper’s ’prentice. They pressed him," he said, making a fist as his voice grew thick with emotion. "And now his leg don’t work and he..."

"But the Temple Guard is different," the young man said, shrugging off whatever he was going to say. "They stay here, behind the walls, guarding the city. That’s why, if we don’t want to be pressed, we have to convince the Temple Guard to take us in. So come on, it’s a night like a knight’s vigil; let’s show them we can stand as tall and proud as they can..."

None of the young men knew if they had any real chance of being recruited into the Temple Guard, but a chance was better than no chance at all, so they followed after their enthusiastic friend, intent on trying their luck again...

At the gates of the Great Temple, members of the Temple Guard stood in their resplendent, brightly polished coats of mail, covered by tabards emblazoned with a radiant sun. Despite the pressure at the gates, they stopped each worshiper as they approached the gates, questioning and directing them as they entered the temple.

"Have you come to pray and stand the vigil tonight, or are you simply seeking the Holy Lord of Light’s blessing and a warm meal?" one of the guards asked an elderly couple as they shuffled forward.

"I’m not so old that I can’t stand a vigil against these demons!" the stoop-shouldered old man insisted, holding his cane up as if it were a sword. "I’d fight them again if I still could!"

"Gaius," the gray-haired woman standing next to him said. "You promised," she snapped at the man before turning to face the guard. "We’re just here for a meal tonight and in the morning," she said softly. "If we can get a blessing for his gout while we’re here, or herbs to soothe his pain, we’d count ourselves more than blessed," she said, pulling out a small pouch and digging through the snips of tin for a single silver penny.

"Meals will be served in the Chapel of the Rising Sun," the guard said, reaching out to close the woman’s hand around the penny. "You won’t need that tonight. Not for the meal and not for any blessings. High Priest Aubin says the sick will be tended at high sun, so just come inside for the night, and we’ll care for you."

"Blessings on you," the old woman said. "Blessings and may the Holy Lord of Light watch over you. You hear that, Gaius, at high sun tomorrow, they’ll pray over the sick..."

"I’m not sick!" The old man insisted as they started walking forward again. "I’m not. I fought for Lord Caleb in the south. I fought for Lord Bors in the west. One last time... I’ll fight again, one last time, for Lord Owain, I will!"

"You fought enough, Gaius," the old woman insisted as she guided her husband toward the Chapel of the Rising Sun. "Let the young ones have their turn. What would you even do if they let you fight? Do you think you could kill a demon with your cane?"

"Don’t make light of me, Kaja," the old man groused. "I can stand a vigil. I can stand a night’s watch atop a wall and let a younger man go to the lines... There’s demons in the night, Kaja," he said, gently patting the hand his wife had placed on his shoulder. "I’ll keep you safe, I promise. I won’t let them come close to our home; I’ll stop them... I will... One more time, for Lord Owain..."

Slowly, hour by hour, the Great Temple filled with people. Some came to pray, some came for the Church’s offer of hospitality and healing, and others came in search of opportunities that could only be found within the temple’s walls.

Whatever their reasons were, they came by the hundreds and the thousands, until the great cathedral was filled to bursting with more than a thousand faithful, and the chapels were full with hundreds more. Huge tents dotted the grounds of the inner bailey of the fortress temple, offering warm cots to the most wretched and downtrodden of Lothian City who simply wanted a place to come in from the cold.

Meanwhile, high above it all, High Priest Aubin stood in his office in one of the temple’s tallest spires, looking out over the masses with a man he’d never imagined he’d meet, much less come to consider a friend.

"It won’t be long now, Brother Ignatious," Aubin said, glancing at the hour mark on one of the candles in his office. "Do you really think they can be swayed?"

"Some of them, certainly," Ignatious said, though his tone was less confident than his words. "For the rest, we can only pray that their hearts aren’t hardened and their minds can be opened. We’ll do our best, Brother Aubin... The rest is up to fate..."