Chapter 258: Taking In Strays
Nyrielle’s ancient fortress had been rebuilt and renovated several times until it grew into its current state, resembling a grasping hand emerging from the side of a large cliff. Still, every renovation served to improve its ability to function as a defensive bulwark that the people of the Vale of Mists could rely on in the never ending war against the Lothians.
Lord Ritchel’s fortress had been fashioned as much from ice as from stone. It offered a commanding view of the High Pass and gave the sorcerers of the Frost Walker Clan the ultimate advantage in raining down snow, ice and even avalanches on their enemies with near complete impunity once they shattered the ice bridge across the chasm that surrounded all approaches to the fortress.
Both fortifications were built to help an Eldritch Lord maintain their dominance and hold over their territory. They were weapons of war just as much as they were places that people called home. At no time did either the Vale of Mists or the High Pass forget the purpose of a fortress.
Tausau’s ramshackle fortress, however, was starting to lose the ability to function as a true weapon of war. New wings had been added haphazardly without tearing down older sections of the ancient fortress. Once important firing positions for archers hidden in towers had become irrelevant when a new wing blocked the arrow slits from being able to fire over the outer wall.
Tausau could be forgiven for this to an extent. Unlike Nyrielle and Ritchel, Tausau did not hold the title or status of an Eldritch Lord. As the progeny of a powerful High Lord, he wasn’t without responsibilities and a territory to manage, but the number of people under his care were smaller than even the scattering of villages that currently made up the Vale of Mists.
To Nyrielle’s eyes, the ramshackle expansion of the fortress echoed what she sensed in Tausau himself. The misshapen vampire no longer radiated the sense of predatory cunning that reminded her so much of her grandsire Torbin. Instead, he seemed to have embraced an ennui that allowed his domain to grow like a field overrun with weeds.
"Will this do, Your Eternity?" Tausau said after leading Nyrielle down a spiral staircase into an underground sitting room.
He’d expected her to arrive in need of a meal and he quickly banished the offering he’d prepared so the two of them could speak in private. The walls of the sitting room were covered with books and five overstuffed armchairs ringed a low table in a way that suggested that small gatherings were commonplace here.
"You don’t have to be so formal, Uncle Tausau," Nyrielle said, folding her wings away and restoring her human appearance. "Your progeny needed to witness the arrival of the Harbinger of Death. They need to understand the order of things. The man who taught me how to paint with bare fingers only needs to welcome his grand-niece."
"Nyrielle," the older vampire said, a rare smile forming on his lips, revealing fangs that were slightly too large for his mouth. "For a moment, I thought your heart had been completely worn away," he said, taking a seat in an overstuffed armchair across from his usual one and offering the grandest of the chairs to his guest.
"I can understand a public and private face," he said as he fetched a bottle of rich red wine and poured a cup for each of them. "But did you need to intimidate my progeny by saying you wanted answers from me about them? I’m sure that they’re quaking in their boots upstairs wondering what the Harbinger of Death is going to do to them."
"I do need answers from you about them," Nyrielle said, an impassive mask settling on her features as the brief joy at their reunion slipped away. "Uncle," she said, trying to keep the conversation as informal as she could. "How many progeny do you have now? How many of them are..."