Chapter 144: Demons In Lothian March (Part One)
"I’ll sleep better knowing how the hero of Lothian March is going to keep his people safe from the demon scourge."
Jocelynn’s words were well received by everyone at the table and many lifted their goblets in a toast to Owain’s health and future hunt. One person, however, seemed less optimistic about this hunt than the others.
"I’m hoping that Lord Owain is like the heroes of old," Sir Tiernan said, offering a subdued toast. "Demon hunting is dangerous business, especially in the western forests."
"Lord Owain has fought and slain demons before," Sir Hugo quickly interjected, not wanting to see his new employer embarrassed. "And we have you with us as well, Sir Tiernan. Surely we have nothing to fear from mangy demons with so many brave knights gathered."
"I would never say anything to disrespect Lord Owain, or to question his prowess in battle," the dark-skinned night said. While his words were polite, his tone was anything but apologetic. "It’s just, from the stories I’ve heard, Lord Owain’s accomplishments were all earned on the Southern Steppe fighting the minions of the Horse Lord. Things in the mountain forests are different than they are on the Southern Steppe."
"Aren’t they just demons?" Jocelynn said brightly. "The demons survive to this day because humans can’t be everywhere at once, so some may live where we have not yet gone. But anywhere Lord Owain chooses to stand, what can they do but die?"
While Ashlynn had studied the history of Lothian March in detail, including records from many of the important battles or first-person accounts from knights and lords who had carved out a life on the frontier, Jocelynn’s perspective was more shallow.
Three hundred years ago, all of the land now claimed by the Kingdom of Gaal was owned by demons. Once humans established their kingdom, under the grace of the Church, demons had been driven back year over year and humans had only grown stronger and more prosperous. Victory, in her mind, was as inevitable as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.
"It’s not quite that simple, my Lady," Confessor Eleanor said politely from her side. "Demons have many forms and each one is a different kind of threat to face. No one can guarantee victory in every battle, even if we are sure to win the war."
"A demon is a demon," Hugo insisted, scowling at the woman beside the dazzling Lady Jocelynn. He was enjoying being seated at the high table near such an exquisite beauty but the Confessor next to her buzzed like a fly in fine wine. "Dead is dead, whether by lance or sword. Lord Owain will not be troubled by minor differences."
"You’re making a mistake, Hugo," Sir Tiernan countered, leaning on the table and glaring at the bastard. From what he’d heard, the man had made all of his accomplishments as a clerk and scholar and had only been trained as a warrior in case something unfortunate became of his younger, legitimate brother. Making a good impression on your liege lord was one thing, but stupidity and ignorance couldn’t be tolerated when facing demons.