The Vampire & Her Witch

Chapter 1717: The Shape of Opportunity

"If you’re willing, I can give you a chance to prove yourself..."Ashlynn’s question only lingered in the air for a heartbeat, two at the most, before Wes Iriso gave his decisive answer.

"All a man can ask for is a chance, your Dominion," Wes said with a broad grin on his lips and a gleam in his eye that had been absent for some years. "I’m too old to ride or fight at tournament anymore, but if you have a challenge for me, I won’t run from it."

"Good," Ashlynn said with a sharp nod, pleased to learn that the limited information that Marcel had been able to provide her with held true with Wes Iriso, even if Marcel’s notes had been woefully inadequate when it came to Lady Sorcha’s forceful directness.

"I intend to hand responsibility for Otker Canyon and the region around it to Master Isabell," Ashlynn said, cutting directly to the heart of the matter. "It is the single easiest way into the Verdant Hills, and it’s never been fortified. I hope that Uncle Dylan will join us and we’ll have an ally on the far side of the canyon, but even if he does, we have considerable work to do there."

"If DuCoumont County becomes the new ’frontier’ of your kingdom," Wes said, nodding in understanding. "You need to be able to rapidly support them if they’re attacked, and secure a line of retreat for them if things go poorly. The Otkers have transformed a rough, rugged canyon into a place where pack animals and wagons can move securely, but it’s hardly a quick or easy journey."

"Exactly," Ashlynn said. "I can’t afford to saddle Isabell with responsibility for ruling the region; there are too many places where her skills will be needed in the years to come, but right now, transforming Otker Canyon and the rest of our border with Keating is one of the most important undertakings ahead of her."

"In that time, I need someone who can both support her efforts and handle the affairs of a region that its lord normally should," Ashlynn said. "Final authority rests with her, but in day-to-day matters, I’d expect you to have considerable discretion. How you exercise that discretion will determine whether you return to Iriso as a local lord or rise to something greater on your own merits," she said firmly, locking eyes with him until she was certain that he understood.

"I see," Wes said with a light laugh as he discovered the shape of the ’chance’ Ashlynn was offering him. Before his head could swell too much, Lady Ashlynn had made two things very clear.

First, her witches were too precious to assign responsibility for a region as small as the northeast corner of the march, even though it was more than three times the size of the lands he currently ruled. And second, while she was giving him a chance, he had to prove his worth.

This wasn’t the sort of formality experienced by many privileged young lords where advancement was all but assured once an ’appropriate’ amount of time had passed for Master Isabell to step away. Ashlynn intended to test him. The only things his actions the night before had purchased for him were the opportunity to try.

"I can think of a number of things that would be helpful for Master Isabell to know," Wes said, bowing his head in acceptance of Ashlynn’s arrangements. "I’ll make myself available to her at her convenience."

"Good," Ashlynn said with a sharp nod of her own. "Then there’s only one more thing to arrange," Ashlynn said, turning to face Sorcha.

"You’re fearless, Sorcha, and you care for others, and I respect both of those things," Ashlynn said. "But you’re badly out of your depth, and even if you’re the toughest cat in the barnyard, you’re about to be a housecat among bears, wolves, and mountain lions who tear you limb for limb for scratching at them," she said in a voice that grew hard and cold.

"You have two choices and five days to make them," Ashlynn said before Sorcha could protest. "You either learn to moderate yourself and walk smaller, or you come to me to discuss a way to grow strong enough to keep your temperament among a people who only respect leaders who possess the strength to protect their people."

"Lady Ashlynn, I," Sorcha started to say, only to be cut short when an emerald glow enveloped Ashlynn’s eyes and her hair began to dance in a breeze that only it felt.

"You called my tyrannical, Sorcha," Ashlynn said, her voice echoing from the rafters, the table, the shelves and every other piece of wood in the room. "But you do not understand how restrained I’ve been," she said as the pressure in the room increased, pinning Sorcha and Wes in their chairs and making it difficult for either of them to breathe.

Then, just as suddenly as the pressure appeared, it vanished, leaving both husband and wife gasping as if they’d just been rescued from drowning in the River Luath.

"Wes can expect to be challenged by the Eldritch soldiers he will come to command," Ashlynn said in a voice that felt loud in the suddenly quiet room, even though she’d let go of the power she’d held just moments ago. "A swordsman of his caliber shouldn’t struggle to earn the respect of his men."

"You, on the other hand, are relying on the power of your title and your marriage to your husband to speak as freely as you did," Ashlynn said bluntly. "That works in the human world because the instant you became a noblewoman, every other knight, lord, lady, and priest of the realm became enforcers of your right to impose your will on the world around you."

"Among the Eldritch, that kind of authority is earned by the strength that you hold and the tales of your deeds," Ashlynn said. "Once the rest of the realm arrives, you should think very carefully about how strident you can afford to be."

For a very tense heartbeat, Sorcha wanted to protest. She wanted to hurl something at Ashlynn for frightening her and for using witchcraft to bully her and for making her feel so, so incredibly small and helpless...

And then the heartbeat passed as she swallowed heavily, remembering the way Ashlynn had battered Owain’s helm with the guard of her sword until the visor tore away... And the ruthlessness with which she’d plunged her blade into the opening she created.

She’d forgotten, she realized. In the midst of Liam Dunn’s impromptu lessons on etiquette and her worries for Jocelynn and Erling and everything else that was going on, she’d forgotten that Lady Ashlynn wasn’t just another marchioness... She was the Mother of Trees, one of the Great Witches that even the Exemplars of the Church had reason to fear...

"Th-thank you, your Dominion," Sorcha said, stammering slightly as she stood to offer a very deep curtsey. "For everything you’re offering Wes, and... And for the reminder too," she added. "I won’t forget. I won’t ever forget..." Sorcha said, even as she wracked her mind for what she could possibly do to resist the kind of strength Lady Ashlynn had just displayed.

Because one thing was certain. Sorcha never, ever, wanted to feel that helpless again!