The Vampire & Her Witch-Chapter 1292: Impatient for Answers (Part One)

Baron Loghlan stood in the center of the chaos that had consumed his camp, watching as servants rushed to and fro while his knights barked orders and tried to impose some semblance of order on the panic.

His son, Liam, had done well to take control of the situation, directing people to productive tasks rather than letting them scatter in fear, but there was still an undercurrent of terror running through everyone present.

The watchman’s cry of ’demons and dark witchcraft’ had done its work, and now half the camp was convinced they were under attack while the other half didn’t know what to think.

"My lord," Sir Brennus said, approaching with his sword already belted at his waist, and his mail shirt hastily donned over his tunic. "We should establish a defensive perimeter. If there’s witchcraft involved, we need to be prepared for anything."

"Sir Ollie’s witchcraft, presumably," Loghlan said dryly. "Unless you think we’re being attacked by some other witch who happened to arrive at the exact same location where Sir Ollie went last night?"

"With respect, my lord," Brennus said, though he had the grace to look slightly abashed. "We don’t know what’s happening out there, but Sir Ollie was here when the watchman saw signs of de-, er, of the Eldritch," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper that could barely be heard over the noises of the active camp. "There was that purple smoke, and Sir Ollie didn’t look like he was responsible for it..."

"Even I can recognize a smoke signal," Loghlan interrupted. "One that Sir Ollie seemed to recognize. I don’t doubt that it was a signal sent by his allies and that it was urgent. I know you’re being cautious, Brennus, but I find it easier to believe that the only Eldritch forces we’re likely to encounter here are Sir Ollie’s allies."

"I doubt that they’re going to attack us after we decided to bind ourselves to their cause last night, so all of this," Loghlan said, gesturing to the men donning armor, saddling horses and preparing for battle. "This isn’t going to do us any good."

"That’s not entirely true, my lord," Brennus pointed out. "Even if there is no danger, and this turns into nothing but a drill for the men, it’s better to have them focused on a task that they believe will help than leaving them frightened of things they don’t yet understand."

"True," Loghlan acknowledged, though he frowned as he did so. The longer this went on without any answers, the harder it would become to keep secrets, and for now, Sir Ollie had told him that Lady Ashlynn didn’t want word of their alliance with the Eldritch to spread beyond the members of his court who already knew.

The time for keeping secrets from his people wouldn’t last for very long, but when and how people learned a secret was every bit as important as the contents of the secret itself, something that both his son, Liam, and Sir Ollie didn’t seem to fully comprehend.

"I’m going out there," the baron said after thinking for a few moments. "Liam!" Loghlan shouted at his son. "You’re in command of the camp while I’m gone. Keep everyone calm, keep them working, and don’t let anyone leave until I return."

"Father, you can’t," Liam said, his eyes going wide as he stopped giving instructions to the men responsible for the wagons in order to rush to his father’s side. "We don’t know what happened out there. Let me go, or send Sir Brennus..." he offered, only to be interrupted by his father’s gruff voice.

"No," Loghlan said firmly. "You’re needed here, and so are my most experienced knights. This camp is on the verge of panic," he said, placing a reassuring hand on Liam’s shoulder. "You’ve done well to bring things under control, and I have faith in your ability to continue to do so. You may have convinced me to push off my retirement," he said lightly. "But this is the future that awaits you. Best get used to it now, Son," he said, giving Liam’s shoulder a strong squeeze.

"But, Father," Liam said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I know Sir Ollie and the allies he brought with them, and they know they can trust me. It’s safer for me to go. Besides, if you ride out, I’ll have to send a whole column of men with you..."

"Liam, think about it," Loghlan said stubbornly. "If there was real danger out there, do you think Sir Ollie would have taken Sir Cynwrig with him? Cynwrig was barefoot, wearing nothing but a dressing gown and the cloak that Ollie gave him. If Sir Ollie thought they were riding into a battle, he never would have allowed Cynwrig to accompany him in such a state."

"Furthermore," Loghlan continued, refusing to give his son time to object. "We’re going to need to come up with some kind of explanation for what happened here this morning. The watchman has already spread word about demons and witchcraft, and people are terrified. We need someone who can assess the situation, understand what actually occurred, and craft a narrative that will keep this camp from tearing itself apart."

"You don’t think I can do that?" Liam asked, and there was a hint of hurt in his voice.

"After last night?" Loghlan said gently. "Son, you did brilliantly negotiating with Lady Ashlynn’s terms and explaining the strategic situation to our court. But when it comes to controlling the narrative and shaping the information you reveal with the pieces that you don’t, you still have much to learn," he said.

"I know that you’re clever," Loghlan praised. "And you’re very capable. I also understand that, given Sir Ollie’s... identity, it was difficult for you to display your usual skills. That made your challenge even greater, because for all of his, um, for all of his other powers," he said, unable to make himself say the word ’witchcraft’ aloud.

"He isn’t a trained courtier. You did as well as you could in a difficult situation, but to salvage this," the aging baron said, gesturing at the frantic activity in the camp. "This is going to take a bit of deftness that you don’t yet possess, and we’ll likely have to craft a tale outside of camp before we return."

Liam looked like he wanted to argue further, but finally he nodded, accepting his father’s reasoning... Even if he didn’t entirely like it.