The Vampire & Her Witch-Chapter 1447: A Decision That Cannot Wait (Part Two)

"Marcel needs to leave within the hour to reach Lothian City before dawn," Ashlynn said, hoping the Dunns would understand the urgency of making some decisions quickly. "And there are things I need to confirm with you before he goes. After that, we can talk through the rest of our plans at whatever pace you’re comfortable with."

She looked at Marcel, who stood by the doorway with his silk-lined cloak draped over one arm and the easy, patient posture of a man who could wait all night but would prefer not to.

"Said simply, I need your help to avoid a bloody battle," Ashlynn said, turning back to the Dunns. "I need to put an end to Owain’s rule, and I need to reach my sister before he can," she started to say, only for her voice to catch in her throat at the mention of her sister. "Before he can hurt her worse than he already has," she finished.

"I could lay siege to the city," Ashlynn continued. "I could breach the gates, tear down the walls, and ransack Lothian Manor, but the people who would suffer and die in that battle have nothing to do with my vengeance, and building anything on the rubble of that battle would be ten times as hard as it would otherwise be."

"You want our help entering the city without having to breach its walls," Loghlan said, nodding in understanding. "I only have five knights, and you’ve already commandeered one of them," he pointed out. "Even with all of the soldiers I’ve brought, it’s not enough men to take and hold a gatehouse long enough for your army to enter the city," he said firmly.

Perhaps it could be done, but the price paid to do it would be steeper than he was willing to pay. Whether or not Lady Ashlynn would call him out for bending the truth and, more importantly, whether or not she insisted on spending his men’s lives would tell him a great deal about the woman he’d come here to serve.

"I don’t need to bring in an army," Ashlynn said. "About a dozen people, a few crates, a wagon, and a carriage. That’s all. On almost any other day, we could ride in through the front gates, and it wouldn’t be an issue."

"But it’s an issue now," Loghlan said, mildly surprised that the powerful witch was asking for something so simple.

"As soon as Owain announced the death of his father and his intention to wed my sister, it became impossible to enter Lothian City easily," Ashlynn said. "By now, Owain has ordered the gates closed to anyone without an invitation to his ’Grand Ceremony.’ Constables are already prowling the streets and rounding up anyone they’d call a ’troublemaker,’" she said, sighing heavily at the thought of the people who would be thrown in cold cells for committing no crime other than being poor or offending a Lothian soldier.

"That’s a bit... excessive, isn’t it?" Isabell said. "Isn’t it enough to line the streets between the temple and the manor with soldiers?"

"The Lothians don’t take chances with things like this," Ashlynn said, shaking her head at her old friend. "It was the same when I married Owain, and I imagine he’ll only be more ruthless this time in order to prevent anyone from protesting the impropriety of marrying my sister so soon after my ’death.’"

"Make no mistake," Ashlynn said, turning back to face Loghlan Dunn. "Lothian City and the manor will be overwhelmed by soldiers for the next few days. They’ll lock the city up like a chest of jewels. Which is why I need you, Baron Dunn, to be my key."

"You need us to act like smugglers," Loghlan said as gray eyes narrowed slightly and his jaw tightened.

Smugglers were part of life in the frontier. Truthfully, they were a part of life anywhere that a crown official waited with a tax stamp to inspect goods and ensure the king received his due. Loghlan had even looked the other way once or twice when the only people who could provide him with the medicines or supplies his people needed were men who avoided the attention of royal inspectors.

He drew the line, however, at doing business with men who trafficked people. The idea of acting like those men instantly raised Loghlan’s hackles, and his lips pursed together in a fierce scowl.

"Haven’t you always said that, were it not for the opportunity to reform themselves in the Second Crusade, your family would have died out as horse thieves and cattle rustlers?" Mairwen said lightly, poking her husband in the ribs as she saw him starting to dig in his heels.

"If the honorable thing is to lay siege to Lothian city and slaughter its soldiers," Mairwen said gently. "And the way to avoid that is to imitate smugglers for a day or two... I think the family name can bear the stain," she said, placing one of her slender hands on top of his knee and giving him a light squeeze."

"I... I suppose that’s true," Loghlan admitted reluctantly. "But let’s say we go along with this. Getting you from the docks into the city is one thing," he said carefully. "My retinue is large enough that a few additional faces won’t draw attention, especially if they’re dressed as servants or guards."

"But getting you into Lothian Manor itself, that’s an entirely different problem," Loghlan added. "The Manor has its own guards, its own walls, and Lord Owain’s people will be watching every face that comes through the door."

"I don’t need your help getting into the Manor," Ashlynn said. "I have other arrangements for that. What I need from you is passage through the city gates and a few tasks inside the Manor that are well within your capabilities as a visiting baron. Nothing that would look out of place. Nothing that would draw suspicion."

"What kind of tasks?" Loghlan asked.

"Nothing that would damage your honor," Ashlynn reassured him. "But first, I need to know whether you can commit to getting my companions through the gates. That’s what Marcel needs to hear before he leaves. The rest of the details, the tasks in the Manor, the timing, the full shape of the plan... We can discuss all of that after Marcel is on his way."

Loghlan’s jaw tightened. She could see the resistance in him, the practical man’s instinct to demand the full picture before committing to any piece of it. He turned to Mairwen, and the look he gave her was the look of a man who had learned, over thirty years of marriage, that his wife often saw the path forward more clearly than he did.

Mairwen studied Lady Ashlynn for a long moment before she spoke.

Whatever had happened upstairs had left marks on this young woman that went deeper than the faint redness around her eyes. Mairwen could see it in the careful way she held her hands, in the slight tightness at the corners of her mouth, in the way she’d picked up the hand pie and eaten it with the mechanical efficiency of someone who knew she needed fuel rather than the pleasure of someone who was hungry.

Something had shaken her. Something that Master Isabell had sensed from across the room and responded to with warm food and wine rather than questions.

But the woman who sat across from them now was not shaken beyond function. She was tired, and she was hurting, and she was pressing forward anyway because the people who depended on her couldn’t afford for her to stop.

Mairwen had seen that look before. She saw it in her own mirror on the mornings after Loghlan spent a sleepless night worrying about raids and tithes and the future of the son who would inherit whatever world his parents built for them.

"Loghlan," Mairwen said quietly, turning to her husband. "She’s not asking us to commit to the whole plan tonight. She’s asking us to commit to opening the gate. That’s all Marcel needs to hear. We’ve come this far," she added, gesturing at Isabell and Ignatious, who had faded into the background while they spoke with Ashlynn.

"Can’t you take one step further?" Mairwen asked as she looked up into her husband’s eyes.

She knew the difference between everything that had come before and this moment. Thus far, everything had been talk. The idea of an alliance. A proposal to consider. Negotiations. But now, Lady Ashlynn was asking them to cross the line from prospective ally to active participant, and despite everything that had become before, that small next step loomed large in her husband’s eyes.

Maybe too large for him to take...