17 Ender

After Greir and Basla left, Ender and his brother had stayed up for nearly another hour discussing how best to get the news to their father that Ender had signed a contract with a witch. There was a reason Mont's kept no witches in their employ, and it wasn't because his father was soft in the heart for them. Marcaius Mont had a healthy distrust for any person outside of his immediate family, but he had an even stronger suspicion of anyone who could wield magic.

Rumors had even made it to Ender, by way of Lucian, of course, that his father was conspiring with the King's new general, who also possessed a defiant demeanor towards the magical arts. His father was not going to be pleased with the news by any means, but at least Ender had some time before his father found out.

Lord Mont kept court in the capital of Ravin-Sha, leaving his sons to run the province and estate in his stead. Ender didn't mind that he rarely saw the elder vampire he called father. He was no more built for the King's court than Lucian was for the battlefield, and rather enjoyed the freedom from Marcaius' watchful eye.

The pair new their father would be displeased with the recent unfolding of events, but little could he do to remedy the situation now. Aside from death, there was no way Ender knew of to break a contract. He felt some remorse for deceiving Caroline when she signed earlier that day, but letting her believe that she could be set free of the magical binding was the only way they would be able to have completed the transaction in time.

While Lucian remained calm in the study with his pleadings, Ender knew his brother well enough to pick up on his urgings as direr than the older vampire was letting on. He most likely didn't want to scare the girl, but the matter was indeed pressing, and all of their lives would have been forfeit if she hadn't signed when she did. He hoped she would forgive him.

The brothers had finally decided to send their father a letter by a falcon. Sending a messenger would have been too risky in these times. Traveling was not as safe for humans going into the capital. Bandits and thugs undoubtedly lay in wait along the route, and reliability was paramount. If the message failed to reach his father, Ender feared the vampire might show up at their door, demanding the witch's head. Marcaius still might after everything, but Ender hoped the letter explained well enough the reasoning behind his actions.

A falcon would be the quickest anyway. Word would travel very fast if Greir shared the news, which Ender was almost positive the vampire would. He had scribbled a brief letter explaining the circumstances with as few details as possible, omitting the girl was from Ovandale and kept to the point that it was a matter of necessity that the girl signed the contract. He sent the falcon that night from the castle, it was a two weeks ride by horse to Ravin-Sha, but the bird would reach the capital much quicker.

As weary as he was from the day's events, Ender was afraid he would not be able to settle into the sleep of a vampire. Too many thoughts were running through his mind within the castle walls; he needed a reprieve. Coming back down from the castle's apiary and crossing the great hall, he snatched up his cloak with intense speed hoping his departure would go unnoticed.

"Going somewhere?" his brother chimed from the top of the staircase.

"Drink," Ender replied curtly, turning on his heel to leave. He was far from in the mood to verbally spar with the older vampire any further that evening.

"I take it you have sent the letter then. I'll keep watch over our new witch while you're gone." Lucian told him dryly.

Ender turned to view his brother from the doorway. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the unfamiliar sensation driving his emotions, or maybe just a by-product of the fatigue he thought. "Stay away from Caroline, brother. She doesn't need to be involved in your games. Let her rest." Ender tried to keep the disdain from his tone but found himself to be failing.

"As you wish." was all Lucian said with a wave of his lanky arm. Before he could let his brother continue any further, Ender slipped out the door of the castle into the chilly spring night. He threw the travel-worn brown cloak around his broad shoulders, pulling the hood over his curls to obscure his features, and took off at what would be considered a brisk walk for humans, but what was a relatively slow pace for the vampire.

After crossing the short bridge separating the massive keep from the surrounding town, he veered onto a side street that led to the smaller buildings lining the city, keeping from the brighter buildings that occupied the center of the city. The roads here were not well preserved, muddied from the spring rain, and maintained less often than the main thoroughfare. His knee-high leather boots trudged along the path, moving towards his destination, dirt, and mud kicking up behind him.

Along the way, he passed by a few wayward drunks stumbling around a corner, and once or twice, a woman asked him if he was interested in company for the evening. He thought briefly of Caroline sleeping back in the castle safely and mused at how easy it would have been for her to end up on one of these side streets had he not found her first.

The whorehouses would have snatched her up quickly, and a shiver pulsed up Ender's spine, thinking of Caroline at the hands of ruthless hungry men. She was a smart girl, though, and resourceful, she would have found her way to safety regardless, but he couldn't help but wonder if having her sign the contract wasn't somehow worse.

He did not flinch in the direction of the street folk. Never having been a man of excess in his younger days and even now in his life as a vampire, he didn't find himself tempted by their offerings. In truth, the vampire preferred a small tavern and the ear of his longest and only friend, Silas.

Ender stopped in front of a nondescript wooden door of a small dwelling. The lamplight didn't even reach the tarnished brass knocker. It was indeed a place no one would stop unless they already knew the establishment was already there. Ender knocked on the door three times in succession, and when the bar slid from the eye hole, he recited the password.

"Seven of pentacles," he grumbled. Ender himself had picked the card from the deck last week as the new password for the Wilted Rose. The tavern was one of the best-kept secrets of the city, and Ender planned on keeping it that way. He had been frequenting the pub for nearly fifty years and appreciated his little haven where his title meant little to the clientele and staff.

An older heavyset man with a bald head that gleamed in the lamplight lurched the door open. Wiping his hands on a dirty apron, Abram extended his hand, and the two men grasped forearms in the traditional greeting of soldiers. Abram had served under him for a time before taking an arrow to the knee years ago.

"Aye, welcome back from the battle Lord Ender. 'Tis good to see yeh." Abram greeted the vampire in his drawling accent that wasn't much different than the one Ender endeavored to phase from his speech. Moving behind the dimly lit bar area of the Wilted Rose, the older man poured Ender an ale as the vampire took his usual seat next to Silas, the only other patron present. The room was cramped even with the lack of patronage, the card table in the back empty tonight, and the smell of a century's worth of tobacco clung to the wooden beams lining the ceiling. The familiar atmosphere immediately put the vampire at ease.

Ender knew he'd find his friend here tonight. While he only ventured out to the tavern on a semi-regular basis, mostly as a reprieve from his brother, Silas frequented the establishment almost nightly. Their friendship, founded on mutual respect for solitude, had taken several years before either even uttered a word to one another.

Over time, the pair had developed a strong bond over their experiences on the battlefield. Ender even felt a vague familiarity with the man he couldn't quite place. Perhaps he had gone to war with Silas' father in ages past.

Silas was a human and past his years for fighting, but Ender often consulted the older man on field tactics and swordsmanship. Silas was always ready with an honest answer or to tell the vampire he was the fool, sometimes they were one and the same. Despite the human's somewhat brash nature and pension for the drink, he was the only person Ender trusted.

"What's got you so down and out, son?" Silas asked as Ender downed a large swallow of his ale. Abram knew to give the men their space and had excused himself to the small room behind the bar. The pair would call should they need another ale. "Lost some men in the scuffle today?"

"You know I'm nearly three times your age. You call me, son, but I could be your grandfather and then some." Ender told his white-haired friend, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Silas rubbed his pointed chin and nodded at the vampire's words. Despite his age, the older man was still muscular in a lean way. Having retired from the army, he now made swords in a shop toward the center of the town but could still wield a hammer with as much force as someone half his age. "Aye, but you have the face of a babe and as moody as one too," Silas replied with a wry grin.

Ender relented, "No, we didn't lose any men today. I'm just tired, Silas."

"Ah, 'tis a woman problem then," Silas said with confidence placing his mug on the dingy bar.

"I signed a contract with a witch." Ender sighed, looking straight ahead. He thought it best to get right to the point of his troubles. There was no need for bantering with the Silas; the old man did not have the patience for word games.

"A woman problem indeed. Were the terms fair lad?" Silas asked him in an even tone. His reaction was better than Ender had anticipated. Truthfully he expected a scolding from the older man. Silas was always right to the point. The man saw no use in running over every minute detail of a situation.

Ender nodded his head. "She would have died if she didn't sign it. My brother and I too. She's not from here. She didn't even know she was a witch. I found her on the road on the way home." He let the words tumble out.

"Well, it sounds like you did the right thing, lad. She could have fared a lot worse if you hadn't found her first. I am surprised at your kind-heartedness, to be frank. Ye have never struck me as the benevolent type if you don't mind my saying. Your father might still murder you, though, but at least you've bought yourself some time to appeal to his good senses if he has any left that is."

Ender appreciated his friend not prying any further into where the girl was from, and the old man was right about his father's reaction. "Aye, but I shouldn't have bound her to my family, Silas. I could not just leave her out there in the woods, though. I thought she might be an asset at first, or I could sell her contract to Astrophel even, but she knows nothing of this world, our world..." Ender absentmindedly rubbed the scar at his temple before taking another swig of from his mug.

"She's beautiful, then?" Silas peered out from under a bushy eyebrow to look sidelong at the vampire.

Ender didn't know how to respond. Of course, the girl was beautiful, but that didn't have any bearing on the situation, did it? She was kind and stubborn and naive. Her type didn't belong in Ibudal. They didn't last long, either. He shrugged at his friend, "I suppose."

Silas let out a raucous laugh, "Like drawing blood from a stone, you are, boy!" After a stern look from Ender, the old man finally settled and continued, "Listen, son, you need to look after the girl and tell your brother to keep his forked tongue behind his lips. You've commanded battalions of soldiers. Surely you can handle one girl and your father. Then send her back to wherever she came from when her contract has reached its end. I've seen you in deeper shit than this."

"Aye, you're right, old friend. Thank you, Silas." Ender downed the last of his ale and threw a few coins on the bar for Abram. He clapped a hand on the man's shoulder, causing Silas to shiver for a moment. Ender sometimes forgot his touch was cold to humans. It was so rare he had contact with anyone in a non-violent manner.

"Stay for another, lad!" the old man implored, as he always did.

"Not tonight." was all Ender ever said back, it had been thirty years of Silas asking, and Ender always replying the same. He gave the old man the briefest of smiles and turned around out into the brisk night, a soft breeze running across his face. Ender finally felt like he could get some sleep.

The walk home was more calming than when he had first left. He had needed to clear his head. He wanted to speak with someone who wasn't always trying to talk with an objective in mind. He wasn't a man of ulterior motives and could hardly stand the company of those who were. Maybe that's why he felt the need to protect the young witch. Perhaps that's why he found the company of his brother and father so tiresome—both for opposing reasons.

Once he re-entered the castle, Ender debated with himself for a moment before deciding to make a quick pass by Caroline's room. With the aid of his heightened senses, he could hear her even breathing and steady heartbeat emanating from behind the door, indicating she was sleeping peacefully.

Once he established the girl was safe, he retreated to the servant's hallway, making it a point to avoid the study where he could hear Lucian pacing. His brother rarely slept. With feet that felt like lead, he climbed onto the bed, not even bothering to change from his dusty traveling clothes. Laying atop of the quilted covers, he thought upon Silas's words about the girl.

"Then send her back to wherever she came from." the old man had told him. Ender didn't know by what means he would send the young witch back home, but far more concerning, he realized he didn't want to.

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