The Vampire & Her Witch

Lord of the Blood.

While titles like ’Gardener’ and ’Warden’ felt underwhelmingly vocational to some when compared to the respected titles the people of the Verdant Hills were accustomed to, the title offered to High Lord Dirar carried an aura of menace that sent shivers down their spines.

"Does that mean these ’Hearts’ will be ruled by Empress Nyrielle’s progeny?" Dirar asked. "If I wished to maintain my position as ruler of the Southern Steppe, I would need to submit for an eternity as a vampire?"

"Don’t flatter yourself," Nyrielle said. "You haven’t lost enough to become one of my progeny. Talk to me when your wives and concubines have been slaughtered, and your cities burned to the ground. Seek me out when you have nothing left in your heart but the need to avenge yourself on those who caused you more pain than any man can endure..."

"Until then, you don’t possess the qualifications to join their ranks," Nyrielle said flatly. "For your sake and the sake of our empire, I pray that I never find you at my door in such a state."

"Then why the title?" Dirar asked, looking from Ashlynn to Nyrielle and back again. "Nothing you have done tonight is careless or without deep thought. You choose your symbols carefully. The ’roots’ of this empire are grounded in service and protection of the people."

"Even the protectorates serve to stitch the empire together and to defend it," Dirar said. "Why then are the lords of the ’Hearts’ steeped in blood from the moment they are named?"

"I bound my life to Nyrielle’s with a pact of blood," Ashlynn said, giving Nyrielle a soft, gentle look before she turned to Dirar. "Lords of the Blood bind their lives to the empire with similar oaths."

"You mentioned that you made a bargain, High Lord Dirar," Ashlynn said pointedly. "Why would it be any different between the highest lords of the empire and the empire itself?"

"You mean between the highest lords of the empresses who rule it," Dirar corrected, directing a skeptical look at Nyrielle. "I know very little about a vampire’s blood-sorcery, Empress Nyrielle, but I’ve come to respect its power in the time that Wolstan has lived among us. I can’t imagine a blood-binding that you create would be a simple thing."

"If it bothers you, then leave," Nyrielle said with a shrug. "My darling Ashlynn and I are staking our lives on this empire. At the rate the Kingdom of Gaal and the Church are advancing, we could live in peace for centuries in the lands west of the Umber Mountains without the threat of war at our door."

"We’re wagering countless years of peaceful lives on the belief that not only can we live fuller, richer lives this way," Nyrielle said. "We can care for all of the people we’re taking under our protection, and they can also lead fuller, richer lives under the banner of the Bloodroot Empire. We live and die together," she said, giving Ashlynn’s hand a gentle squeeze.

"We expect our highest leaders to bind themself to our common cause," Nyrielle said. "If that is too much to ask of you, then perhaps you aren’t the right man to lead the Southern Steppe."

"Nyri," Ashlynn interjected gently. "Let me," she said softly before speaking to Dirar.

"Before you give your answer, High Lord," Ashlynn said. "There are two things you should know. The first is that you will not rule alone in the Southern Steppe. You are charged with the health and well-being of your Heart, but a Lord General will oversee your Lord Commanders. They too will be bound by a pact of blood to serve and protect the empire."

"You are welcome to nominate a Lord General of your choosing," Ashlynn said. "You could even recommend Captain Rastlan to the post," she suggested. "But the final decision will rest with Nyri, myself, and Lord Thane, who will serve as the General of the Armies of the Empire."

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves," Dirar said, holding up a hand before either Thane or Rastlan could speak. "Captain Rastlan has an important battle to fight in three days. His performance will determine the fate of the Aleese and their lands, and nothing we’ve discussed so far changes that. Once that matter is settled, I can consider who I might want to serve as our ’Lord General," Dirar said.

"But you said there were two things I should know," Dirar said, refusing to become distracted by the sudden elevation of one of Nyrielle’s progeny to a position that seemed to sit above even the Lord Generals of the Hearts.

"What is the second thing I should know?" Dirar asked.

"That I wouldn’t demand anything from you in a blood oath that I wouldn’t demand from my own father," Ashlynn said directly before turning to Jocelynn.

"Jocey, Father sent us a message," she said, pulling her sister out of generally abstract thoughts about the emerging empire as things suddenly became very personal. "A message for you and me both," she clarified. "Blackwell stands with us. He’s preparing the fleet to hunt for ships carrying Holy Soldiers from across the sea, to sink them before they ever reach our shores. Come spring, he plans to join us."

"He.. He knows?" Jocelynn asked in a voice that cracked under the strain of the emotions Ashlynn’s announcement had unleashed in her heart. "He knows that you’re alive and... And what you’re doing here?"

"Not all of it," Ashlynn said, shaking her head slightly. "Not yet. Mother should be joining us soon," Ashlynn added, as though she were making idle conversation and catching up with her sister while the lords and ladies of the land waited. But her next words were anything but idle gossip between girls.

"I sent Marcell with a letter for Mother and one for Uncle Dylan," Ashlynn said. "Once Mother is here, I’ll have a better idea where DuCoumont stands. I’m hopeful that he’ll join us as well," Ashlynn said with a wide smile.

"So you see, High Lord Dirar," Ashlynn said, turning back to address the High Lord while much of the great hall stared in shock and disbelief. "By the end of spring, we could add not just the Southern Steppe as a Heart, but the Riverlands and the Sunrise Shores as well," she said, naming the regions as though they were already part of the empire, awaiting only the swearing of oaths and the drawing of borders to bind them.

"I promise you," Ashlynn said solemnly. "As Lord of the Blood for the Southern Steppe, we won’t demand anything of you that I wouldn’t demand of my own blood kin. Does that put your mind at ease, High Lord Dirar? Enough to embrace your role as the last High Lord of the Southern Steppe and take your place among the lords of the Bloodroot Empire?"

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