The Vampire & Her Witch-Chapter 1293: Impatient for Answers (Part Two)

"At least wear armor," Liam said, hoping to win back at least some ground from his father, who insisted on riding out to find Sir Ollie and discover what was happening himself.

"Please," Liam pleaded. "Something has gone wrong out there, or Sir Ollie wouldn’t have rushed off like that. If it’s something that even he can’t deal with..."

"Don’t worry, I intend to," Loghlan replied. "Trust your father to keep up appearances and sell the story that needs to be sold when the truth can’t yet be told. Now, come help me into my armor," he said, gesturing for them to return to his tent. "And tell me what you can about Sir Ollie’s companions while you do."

Liam gave a few brief orders to the men he’d been speaking to before he was interrupted, then accompanied his father back to the baron’s tent in order to help him with his armor.

Loghlan had all but retired his full suit of mail and plate, trading them in for a lighter, more practical coat of brigandine in the dun’s signature colors of brown and yellow with brightly polished brass rivets. It wouldn’t stop a lance, but it would deflect an arrow or the cut of most blades, and combined with the long sword his father carried, it would give him enough protection to fight his way clear of most trouble without suffering serious injuries.

When he emerged from his tent, he found Sir Gavin waiting for him, already mounted and holding the reins of Loghlan’s prized stallion.

"Sir Gavin," Loghlan said with a raised eyebrow. "I don’t recall asking you to accompany me."

"You didn’t, my lord," Gavin replied. "But I was there last night when Sir Ollie met with his friends. The smoke came from that direction, and I can guide you to the place where we met them. I can also vouch for the character of the people you’ll meet there. If you’re going to investigate, it’ll help to have someone who knows the way."

"Very well," Loghlan said, accepting without any argument. He had planned to leave Sir Gavin back with Sir Brennus since the young man was the strongest fighter among his knights, but leaving Sir Padraig behind would work just as well. "But I’m also taking young Sir Bedwyr with us. You’ll need to keep a cool head," he emphasized, giving the young knight who was hovering nearby a stern look. "Do you think you can do that, lad?"

"Yes, my lord!" Sir Bedwyr said, saluting with an armored fist to his chest. Like the other knights of the camp, he’d donned a gambeson and coat of mail, but there was too little time to belt on a full suit of plate over it, especially when Lord Liam reassured them that it was unlikely that they’d face any real danger. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

As they were preparing to depart, Lady Eira appeared, moving through the camp with quick purposeful strides and carrying a bundle of clothing. She approached Baron Loghlan and curtsied quickly, before turning to face Sir Bedwyr.

"Sir Bedwyr," she said, slightly out of breath. "I thought Sir Cynwrig might need these. A cloak, boots, and proper clothing," she said, blushing slightly as she indirectly confessed to entering a married man’s tent while he was away. "If you’re going to accompany Lord Loghlan, could you bring these with you? I, I know he had to hurry, but this cold won’t be good for Sir Cynwrig," she said, biting her lip as she imagined the poor man out in the cold without so much as a pair of socks for his feet.

"I’ll let him know that you were worried for him," Sir Bedwyr said almost automatically as he took the bundle from the young lady. "I’m sure that Lady Cerys would have done the same if she were here."

"I hope he and his family are well, my lord," Eira said softly, and there was genuine concern in her eyes. "Whatever has happened, I pray it’s nothing serious."

"As do we all," Loghlan said before he swung himself up into his saddle and gestured for his companions to follow. "Stay close to Liam, Lady Eira," he added as he took up his reins. "He can benefit from your good sense," he added with a wink before turning his horse away and riding out of camp, refusing to give either Lady Eira or his son a chance to respond to his less-than-subtle hints.

The ride to the copse of trees was short but tense. Sir Bedwyr kept his hand on his sword hilt, his eyes darting nervously to every shadow and movement in the pre-dawn gloom. Sir Gavin, by contrast, seemed calm and composed, though Loghlan noticed that he sat a little straighter in his saddle than usual, as if preparing himself for something significant.

The first thing they encountered was the horse.

It lay in a twisted heap on the frost-covered ground, its legs bent at unnatural angles and its eyes glazed with death. But it was the arrow that drew Loghlan’s attention, a single shaft buried so deeply in the animal’s skull that only the fletching was visible, protruding from directly between the horse’s eyes.

Loghlan dismounted and approached the fallen animal slowly, his experienced eye taking in the precision and power of the shot. The arrow had entered at a perfect angle, driving through the thick bone of the horse’s forehead and penetrating so deeply that the horse must have been dead before it hit the ground.

"Holy Light preserve us," Sir Bedwyr breathed, his face pale. "What kind of bow could do that? And what kind of archer could make such a shot?" He’d fought the Eldritch before when they came south from the wilderness outside of Riverstone to raid their herds in years that had been lean, but he’d never seen anything like this before.

"One of Sir Ollie’s friends, presumably," Loghlan said quietly. He reached out and touched the arrow shaft, feeling the smooth wood and the distinctive fletching. He had no idea what kind of arrowhead was fitted to the shaft, but he imagined it had to be incredibly sharp to do what it had done. Sharp enough that his coat of brigandine suddenly didn’t feel quite as protective as it had just a few minutes ago.

"Should we head back, my lord?" Sir Bedwyr asked, unable to take his eyes off the arrow protruding from the horse’s skull. "If they can do something like that, with a single shot," he said, glancing around and confirming that there were no stray arrows lying about to suggest that this had been a lucky shot among many.

"We might not be able to keep you safe from danger, my lord," the young knight said reluctantly.

"Sir Gavin," Loghlan said, straightening up and returning to his horse. "You met these friends of Sir Ollie’s last night. Should we fear them?"

Gavin was quiet for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the dead horse and the arrow that had killed it. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured and thoughtful.

"Not so long as we approach openly and respectfully, my lord," Gavin said. "Sir Ollie’s friends are warriors, and they’re very good at what they do. But they’re also honorable people who rushed to his side because they were worried that he’d hurt himself when he healed me. If we come as allies seeking to help, then I believe we’ll be safe."

"You’re certain?" Loghlan pressed, realizing that the sight of the slain horse had shaken him more than he thought.

"As certain as I can be about anything now that the Eldritch are our allies," Gavin replied honestly. "But, when Isolde and I spoke to them last night, they didn’t seem all that different from anyone else. Honestly, they reminded me of some of the best men I’ve ever ridden into battle with," he said.

"Few people care so much about the knight they serve, but those men, Harrod and Milo, they seemed like good fellows who would follow Sir Ollie anywhere, no matter how dangerous," Gavin said, praising the men he’d met last night. "That says as much about them as it does about Sir Ollie."

"Then we continue," Loghlan said, nodding slowly. "But we go carefully, and we make it clear from the moment they see us that we come in peace. Hopefully, we don’t have any misunderstandings..."