Chapter 261: No Help for the Vale
"You have more than sixty progeny," Nyrielle said, cutting directly to the point. As much affection as she had for her Uncle, he and his progeny had been living far too comfortably for far too long. Now that she’d shaken him free of his ennui, it was time to put his Mongrel Horde to better use than guarding an uncontested border.
"That’s far too many for you to care for," Nyrielle continued. "In a few months, I will return to the Vale of Mists to prepare for war. When I do, send twenty of your progeny with me. I think that even Bardas would agree at this point that the humans must be culled before they get out of hand. The Vale stands as one of the shields against human attempts to cross the mountains and flood the western lands beyond. Help me stop them."
"It’s up to you who you send," Nyrielle added, sipping her rich red wine and letting the almost nutty flavor roll across her tongue while she watched a sense of increasing discomfort appear on her Uncle’s face. He’d lost the habit of hiding what he felt and the return of so many subtle emotions left him unable to keep her from reading him like a book as he faced her.
"I understand that you don’t wish for any of your progeny to die," Nyrielle said, her midnight eyes meeting his over the rim of her wine glass. "Send your strongest who have the greatest chance of surviving or send your weakest who place the greatest burden on your house, the choice is up to you. But you said it yourself, given the chance, your Mongrels would teach them fear. I’m giving you that chance."
"Your Eternity," he said, looking deeply uncomfortable. "Nyrielle, I... It’s not that I do not wish to support you. If you wanted to pull down the Frost Walkers in the High Pass or any other Eldritch Lord, I would send my progeny, even if some might, might not return," he said, stumbling at the end as he forced himself to admit the truth of what sending many of his less capable progeny would mean for their fates.
"But commands have been spread far and wide from years ago," Tausau said, his head drooping with shame as he could no longer meet Nyrielle’s gaze. "No vampire is to aid you in defending the Vale of Mists against the humans. We may protect you personally and give you aid," he added quickly. "Only, only we are forbidden from fighting in your war."
"Do you know why?" Nyrielle asked sharply. Darkness swirled around her hands and it took considerable effort to restrain herself from destroying the chair she sat in. The feeling of tearing had faded from her chest and a new warmth began to build there which helped her to calm herself but the idea that she would be denied the support of other vampires in her war against the Lothians... "Who issued the order?"
"I don’t know," the older vampire said, barely managing to keep from cowering in front of the cold, dark fury that enveloped Nyrielle. "But the number of people who could give such an order..."
Shadows around the room danced, flowing across the floor to meld with Nyrielle as her fury grew. Her fingers flexed and along her back two faint red lines appeared as though she was moments away from unfurling her dark wings.
For more than a century she had stood guard at the far end of the High Pass, preventing human expansion into Eldritch lands. The only time she’d turned to other nations for help, she’d taken her defeated foes as progeny in order to retake the Vale of Mists. Ever since then, she’d worked only with the Eldritch Lords on her side of the mountains, leaving the western lands to enjoy generations of relative peace.
And now, now that she finally turned to her own kind for help, to a member of her own extended family no less, she found an order barring her way. Worse, she thought as her aura leached the warmth from the room, the order only prevented her kin from supporting her territory.
It was as though someone was attempting to strip her of the Vale of Mists, denying her position as an Eldritch Lady... and for what? What reason could someone have to act in such a deliberately cutting way?