Chapter 632: The Harbinger of Death Introduces Her Seneschal (Part Two)
"Seven months ago, the world changed," Nyrielle said, surprising the gathered guests as she remained standing rather than taking her seat at the high table. "Seven months ago, our enemies, the Lothians, cemented an alliance with a marriage, securing the support of a powerful human family on the eastern shores."
"The Lothian’s new allies hold considerable influence and wealth in the Kingdom of Gaal," Nyrielle explained, slowly revealing a scheme that could spell doom for the people of the Vale. "But their influence in the Kingdom of Gaal pales in comparison to their ability to send their fleets of ships across the seas, returning with holds filled with soldiers from the humans’ old kingdoms, all eager to fight in a new Holy War."
At the front table, Kaisen reached for Helga’s hand and held it tightly, as if to reassure her that they were still safe behind the walls of the Vale of Mists even as he trembled at the idea of an invading army from across the sea.
Even his father, Achim, wasn’t old enough to have lived through the Crusade that shattered the Vale of Mists more than a century ago, but every child of the Vale had heard the stories of the powerful Church and their Miracle Workers from across the sea. Suddenly, the army Lady Nyrielle had raised began to make much, much more sense as a new fear began to take hold in Kaisen’s heart. If the enemy from across the sea was returning, would Lady Nyrielle’s new army be enough?
"Owain Lothian gained something far more dangerous than an alliance with another of the human’s noble families," Nyrielle continued as if she were oblivious to the growing sense of dread in the great hall. "Because the woman he married bore the mark of the witch."
"It is fortunate for all of us that Owain Lothian is a cruel man, easily blinded by the hatred he ingested along with his mother’s milk," Nyrielle said with a dark smile on her pert lips. "Any Eldritch Lord would gladly offer up half of their domain to secure a marriage to a powerful witch, but on the night of his wedding, seven months ago, Owain Lothian beat his bride to the brink of death and sent his knights to bury her in the wilderness between the Vale and the March."
This time, it was the people who had come across the mountains who exchanged startled looks with each other. Many of them had witnessed the power of the Mother of Trees when she stood in the arena of High Fen City, nurturing a willow grove from saplings and healing the innocent spectators injured by the cultists from the Cauldron of Flame, but none of them knew how it had come to pass that she joined forces with the Harbinger of Death.
At the table of honored guests, dark, furious looks appeared on the faces of Milo, Achim, and Kaisen as they imagined the scene Nyrielle only briefly described. The notion of a man, any man, who was ruthless enough to beat his own wife to death on the very night of their wedding offended something deeply sacred within them that transcended race or clan.