The Vampire & Her Witch Chapter 1830: A Contest Between Champions (Part One)

Ashlynn bit back her desire to rebuke Tybal for his breaches of etiquette. His choice of salute, the same offered by the knights of Gaal, rather than the Eldritch salute that many in attendance had already adopted, was either a deliberate act of defiance or an old habit too deeply ingrained to change in a moment of stress. The same could be said about addressing her as ’my lady’ rather than ’your Dominion.’

If he meant to slight her publicly, he would learn soon enough that it was a dangerous path to walk, particularly with Nyrielle present. If it was an honest sign of his inability to adapt or a simple expression of years of habit... It wasn’t worth making an issue out of when she’d already won the most important victory of their clash.

"High Lord Dirar has demanded three things from the Aleese to settle the blood debts between you," Ashlynn said. "He wants control of your lands, the head of your lord, and Lord Reynold as his apprentice. He has offered the concession that Lord Reynold will be allowed to rule over those lands as his vassal. Have I captured it all, High Lord?"

"I can pacify the Herd Masters with these things," Dirar said confidently. "And young Reynold was born under auspicious skies for a man who must defend our northern border. The City Lords may still hold some reservations, but it will blunt their objections enough for arguments over trade, medicine, and mutual benefits to carry the day."

"If that isn’t enough, I can only wager my own life and accept their challenges openly," Dirar said with a flick of his tail. "But I will fall before I see the Southern Steppe break the peace we forge here."

Around the great hall, several lords shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Not because they disagreed with High Lord Dirar’s words, but because they saw open looks of respect and admiration from both their knights and their own children as they listened to Dirar’s unflinching leadership.

There was no polite flattery in Dirar’s words, nor any hedging in his commitment. Rather than say that he couldn’t be held responsible for the actions of his lords, he offered to stake his own life on his ability to guarantee peace.

The way Dirar spoke reminded them of the lectures they’d received from their fathers or older knights about the virtues of Justice, Honor, Strength, Courage, and so many others that a few children had even begun to quietly debate which virtues Dirar had pledged to keep, because to them, he sounded more like a proper knight than some of the knights they knew.

"Since Lord Dirar has three demands to settle the debts between the Southern Steppe and the Aleese, I propose three contests for three champions," Ashlynn said. "Given the strengths of both sides in this dispute, you will contend in archery, jousting, and sorcery. Lord Tybal, for each contest your champions win, you may reject one of Lord Dirar’s demands. Does this seem fair to you?"

"How can this be fair?" Tybal said, scowling at Ashlynn. "Few men are Reynold’s equal with a lance, but at best, he can preserve my life. We’ll still lose our lands, and my son will become another man’s vassal..."

"Isn’t it enough," Peigi said, clutching her husband’s hand and looking up at him with pleading eyes. "If Reynold can rescue you from death... even if you lose your throne and Reynold rules in the High Lord’s name... Isn’t it enough?"

"Peigi..." Tybal said, looking at his wife with deeply conflicted eyes.

"Lord Tybal, I will stand as one of your champions," Erling Fayle said. "There may be a few men in the march, rather, in the Verdant Hills, who are better with a bow than I am," he said humbly as a confident smile formed on his lips. "But if there are more than a dozen of them, I’d be surprised."

"I thought we had a peace accord, Lord Erling," Dirar said in a very dry tone. "Why would you stand for my enemy now?"

"Because Reynold is my friend," Erling said, as though it were explanation enough. "Because even the best man may falter, and losing a father before his time is a pain I know too well. If I can give him a second chance to protect his father’s life, then I have to, even if it means offending you."

"Even if it means risking your life?" Dirar asked. "It is the fate of a son to bury his father, one way or another, but it’s a cruel thing to force your mother to bury her son in the name of someone else’s feud."

"Don’t," Ragna said sharply, glaring at the High Lord for dragging her into this. "Don’t use me to manipulate him. I hate that there are risks a lord must bear, and I’m proud of my son for refusing to fight a pointless war against your people," she said, putting a hand on Erling’s shoulder.

"But I’m proud of him for taking a stand to help a friend," she said, squaring her shoulders as she faced Dirar. "And I don’t think he’ll lose, even to the best of your archers."

"Hahahahaha," Dirar chuckled with a laugh that started somewhere in his lower torso and shook all through his body before it spilled from his lips. "Well said!"

"Lord Erling," Dirar said, smiling as he looked at the young man. "I find myself blind to the actions of the Lord of Fayle. I cannot imagine a ruler who kept the peace with me for so long would stand against me, and so I trust him still. I also find myself relieved to know that my future apprentice has such a stalwart friend, so when his friend takes the field, even if he happens to hold some other title... I’m sure I won’t notice it," he said with a nod.

This time, the murmurs of support grew into open applause. At the same time, the knights of Aleese looked at each other in open confusion. Was this the fearsome enemy they’d fought all their lives? Was he truly so easy to get along with? But then, one by one, they realized the problem that his last statement laid bare...

Even if Lord Reynold and Lord Erling claimed victory, Dirar would still take Reynold as his apprentice... He would survive, but one way or another, they were going to lose a lord of Aleese to the Southern Steppe...