The Vampire & Her Witch Chapter 1959: A Fallen Spear (Part One)

Rastlan’s gleaming spear fell to the frozen ground moments after his body, startling the crowd and breaking the silence that had followed the feline warrior’s death.

"Look," a man in the crowd whispered in hushed tones while pointing at Aspakos. "His shield is like new... Like it were never cracked or broken..."

"Demon," the man’s neighbor said, shuddering in horror at the thought of encountering such a nightmare. "I need a drink," he said. "Two of them, or I won’t sleep tonight..."

Elsewhere in the crowd, Sainy covered her son’s eyes and held him close to her chest.

"Mama, why did the bad man win?" her son asked with a sniff. "The cat-man was winning and then, then..."

"I, I don’t know," Sainy said honestly. "I don’t know if the bird-man was a bad man or not," she said, smoothing her son’s hair as she held him close. "He fought for the Aleese, honey. He fought for our side..."

"But he, he looked so scary..."

"I know," Sainy said, pursing her lips as she struggled with how to tell her son one of the most painful truths she knew. "Sometimes, the scary ones, the ones who will hurt you the most... They look like the good ones. They’re handsome and strong, like your father," she said.

"But that doesn’t mean they’re ’good,’" Sainy explained. "And sometimes, people who look scary turn out to be good people, like Mister Culler, the butcher, who gives us bones for soup. You remember how scared you were when you first saw him?" she said, recalling how terrified her son had been of the butcher’s pockmarked face and bloodstained apron.

"But he looks out for us," Sainy said. "And this man, this scary man, he just looked out for Lord Reynold to protect his family."

"But he, he..."

"I know, sweetie," Sainy said, gently stroking her son’s back as she tried to calm him. "I know it’s scary. Things are scary sometimes. But now it’s time to be brave, like Lord Reynold was brave. I need my little man to be a knight for me and keep me safe when we go home," she said softly. "Can you do that for mama? Can you be brave and walk me home?"

"All right," the young boy said with a sniff. "I, I’ll keep you safe from the bad men..."

But while those and a dozen other scenes played out across the hillsides, most eyes were focused on the stone platform where Dirar stood with two empresses.

"Stubborn," Dirar said through clenched teeth. His hands tightened into fists and his lacquered fingernails bit into his palms while his tail swished in obvious agitation. Still, he made no movements while he stared at the remains of the man who had been both a loyal servant and a close companion for more than a decade.

Behind the stone platform, several Eldritch figures made their way forward as the members of the Stone Guard gathered to support their lord.

In the Imperial Box, Khorijin shifted uncomfortably, and for a moment, she attempted to stand, only to be stopped by the pressure of a large, furry hand on her back.

"The wounded can wait to pay their respects," Virve said in a surprisingly gentle tone. "Don’t shame your captain by hurting yourself when you’ve just started to heal."

"When it’s time, I’ll go with you," Erling offered. "I don’t know what your customs are, but..."

"There will be a pyre tomorrow night," Khorijin said, looking from the view outside to the witch who had helped to treat her wounds. "Will I be well enough by then?" Khorijin asked Virve.

"You need rest," Virve said. "But a day will be enough for you to stand by his pyre. No fighting until Heila says you’re ready," she added sternly. "But that much should be fine."

Not far from her, Taghai slammed a fist into the floor and ground his teeth in frustration. It was his fault that Captain Rastlan had been forced onto a ledge from which he couldn’t retreat. His fault for failing and placing such a heavy burden on the man who led the Stone Guard. And now, like an invalid, he couldn’t even stand to support his lord...

The shame burned in his heart like a brand, and his eyes smoldered as he stared across the room at the family responsible for his defeat.

On the opposite side of the Imperial Box, Tybal Aleese stood and looked from his wife to his son. The atmosphere in the room was solemn at a time when there should have been shouts and cheers.

They’d won. If not for Erling’s defeat, it would have been a perfect victory. The champion that Empress Ashlynn had provided exceeded every expectation Tybal could have had. Two victories out of three. It wasn’t the best outcome for his family, but it was still very good.

Yet no one cheered for it. Not the Lord Governors who had been elevated above him, or the commanders who were supposed to be Aspakos’s fellows. None of the vampires cheered, nor any of the witches. Instead, many seemed saddened by the loss.

It wasn’t that Tybal couldn’t understand. A man had died while the Evergreen Empress was trying to make peace. Undoubtedly, she would have preferred a tamer duel that only left opponents injured.

But Tybal had watched Taghai attempt to kill his son. He’d failed. That failure didn’t transform a duel to the death into a tame contest to draw first blood and settle honor. It meant that someone had come to kill his son, and now, that man’s captain lay dead on the ground. For Tybal, it was a difficult outcome to be upset about.

"I don’t belong in a world like this," Tybal said in a voice too quiet for even the people sitting next to him to hear. No, he thought. It wasn’t that he didn’t belong in this world. It was that the world rejected him.

Under Marquis Bors, in a situation like this, every lord attending would have gathered to offer congratulations. Even scheming men like Telent Rundel would have come to give praise to Tybal’s good fortune, if for no reason other than to be seen doing so. But tonight... There was nothing.

The rulers of this new realm and their closest allies had no desire to celebrate this kind of victory, and the message that sent was painfully clear.

"Come, Son," Tybal said, turning away from the people in the Imperial Box to face the door. "We should speak to Lord Dirar and bring things to a close."

"Husband," Peigi said, reaching out to hold Tybal’s arm. "Don’t do anything foolish. Two victories is enough to preserve your life and Reynold’s freedom. Let someone else rule the ride," she pleaded. "We can find our own way..."

"I know what I have to do, Peigi," Tybal said, placing a hand on top of hers and patting it lightly. "I have courage enough for that. Let me be about it."

"Father," Reynold said, glancing briefly around them and lowering his voice before he continued. "Father, you can keep your life and your lands," he said. "Lord Dirar demanded that I become his apprentice, not his slave or prisoner. It isn’t a loss for us for me to follow a Lord of the Blood..."

"I know," Tybal said as he placed a hand gently on Reynold’s uninjured shoulder to guide him toward the door. "Trust me, Son, I know. And I know what must be done for you to live a good life and for Peigi to be safe when this is all over," he added. "Trust that I’ve thought it through."

"Peigi, you should go wait with Lady Ragna," Tybal added. "I’ll be back soon enough to accompany you back to the manor. This shouldn’t take long..."

Outside, while Tybal and Reynold made their way to the stone platform to join Lord Dirar and the two empresses, Aspakos finally made his own move, descending the icy stairs at a slow, unhurried pace and walking over to the lifeless body of his defeated foe.

Or rather, walking over to the jewel-studded spear that had fallen to the ground less than half a dozen paces from its master.

Several soldiers among the Stone Guard bristled as they watched Aspakos collect the spear, ready to charge out onto the field to take it back the instant Dirar commanded them to do so.

"Commander," Dirar said, speaking loudly enough to be heard across the field. "That spear belongs to the Captain of my Stone Guard," he said. "It is a weapon with a storied history. It cannot be your prize."

"Whether it can be my prize or not," Aspakos said, clutching the spear tightly in one taloned hand and his menacing staff in the other. "I have a use for it," he said as he began walking toward the stone platform. "Destiny has a use for it, and I refuse to squander it..."