Chapter 1344: Moves In Darkness (Part Two)

"Marcel," Ignatious’s voice called out, carrying an unspoken ’must you?’ as he interrupted his younger sibling’s interrogation of Liam Dunn. "Lord Liam is a friend," Ignatious reminded him.

"I’m being friendly, aren’t I?" Marcel said as he gracefully slid himself onto the bench next to Liam with one arm draped around the young lord’s shoulders affectionately. "You know, you don’t need to be so stiff, Liam," the dark-haired vampire added as he picked up a small morsel of steak from Liam’s steak and ale hand pie, eating it in a single, almost sensual bite before licking his fingers clean.

"Oh, I see," Marcel said with an understanding look at the refined young lady sitting on Liam’s opposite side. "Don’t worry, Lady Eira, Liam and I are only good friends. I would never steal him away from you," he teased with a playful wink.

"I, I didn’t, um, I mean, we aren’t...." Eira stammered, completely bewildered by the young man who looked to be the same age as her but clearly possessed powers that were different from anything she’d ever seen.

"Marcel," Isabell added sternly. "Weren’t you short on time? If you have questions for Lord Liam, you should ask them."

"Of course," Marcel said, though he made no move to pull away from the young human lord. "I need to know about your father’s retinue," the vampire said as the playfulness melted from his voice like snow placed before the hearth. "I assume you entered through the north gate, but is your father staying on that side of the river, or have you taken over one of the inns here on the south side?"

"Everyone else is still north of the river," Liam said, doing his best to ignore the feeling of Marcel’s touch as he answered the vampire’s question. The man’s body was close enough that he should be able to feel at least a trace of warmth from him, but instead, he felt like he was sharing a bench with a corpse. A corpse that had draped a cold, dead limb around his shoulders and kept him pressed into his seat with it.

"But my family isn’t staying at an inn," Liam added quickly. "Sir Garrik’s household staff received my father and offered us the use of Castle Maeril for the night."

"And how many people are we talking about?" Marcel asked, meeting Liam’s gaze directly with a dark, unblinking stare. "I heard you mention the Stormbrooks, the Wyndans and the Thornes, but are there any other knights in his retinue? How many soldiers did each vassal bring, and how many servants?"

Liam hesitated for a moment, clearly trying to understand where this line of questioning was going.

"My father brought half of his knights with him," he said carefully. "Besides Sir Brennus Thorne, Sir Padraig Wyndan, and Sir Cynwrig Stormbrook, he also brought Sir Gavin Ashford and Sir Bedwyr Riverstone," Liam said.

He could swear that Marcel’s dark eyes had grown larger in his vision, and it was hard to focus on anything other than the youthful-looking vampire. For a moment, he had the sensation that he was falling into the other man’s gaze, as if he was about to be swallowed up by the darkness in those eyes, before he shook himself firmly, blinking several times as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"Each knight brought about a dozen soldiers," Liam continued, looking away from Marcel and reaching for the very full goblet of wine in front of him, taking a careful sip before he continued. "And my father brought twice that, though half of my father’s men are scouts, trackers and hunters rather than real soldiers. He was searching the wilderness for me, after all."

"So we’re talking about..." Marcel paused, doing quick mental calculations. "What, eighty people? Ninety? Are they moving as a military camp on campaign, or do you have household staff and servants in tow?"

"Closer to one hundred and fifty, actually," Liam admitted, looking slightly sheepish. "Each knight came with most of their family, wives, children, and enough household staff to see to everyone’s comfort. Then there are the wagons, filled with gifts for the grand ceremony... A coronation is something that happens once every twenty to thirty years, and we all know how petty Owain Lothian can be; it wouldn’t do for anyone to slight him at a time like this."

"That’s why we’re passing through Maeril instead of pushing on directly to Lothian," Liam explained. "There are so many wagons of gifts and supplies that it will be faster to take a barge downriver than to haul it all along the road between here and Lothian."

Marcel’s lips curved into a slight smile that showed just a hint of too-white teeth.

"One hundred and fifty people," he repeated, sounding almost delighted by the number. "Well, that does complicate things somewhat, doesn’t it? But for tonight, I suppose we only need to concern ourselves with the Baron and Baroness, and their knights. Oh, and the ladies of the court as well," Marcel added.

"Especially Lady Cerys," Marcel said with a grin that revealed a hint of his sharp fangs. Across the table, Cadeyrn clapped a hand over his mouth as his jaw dropped when he finally realized that Marcel wasn’t another witch like Ollie, but a vampire, like the infamous ’Demon Lady of the Vale.’ Next to him, Morwen pinched her brother’s thigh underneath the table, shaking her head at him and glaring as if to remind him that this was not the time to draw attention to himself.

"We wouldn’t want to have anyone accusing us of leaving people out, would we?" Marcel continued in a light tone, as if he hadn’t just implied that he would be feeding on Lady Cerys. "And I’m sure that Lady Ashlynn will want to speak to her... personally," he said.

"Wait," Isabell interjected, her silvery eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at Marcel. "You’re not seriously suggesting that we bring all of them here, are you? Wasn’t the entire problem in the first place that too many people were brought into the discussions too quickly?"

Marcel turned his attention to Isabell, and his smile widened slightly.

"Oh, I’m absolutely suggesting exactly that," he said cheerfully. "In fact, I’m planning to go fetch them myself, with Lord Liam’s permission, of course. And yes, we’ll need to bring the knights and their ladies along as well, since they’re already aware of at least some of what’s been discussed."

"Marcel," Isabell said, and there was a warning note in her voice. "That seems like precisely the kind of reckless decision that nearly led to Ollie’s death. Besides," she added more quietly. "Do you really think that Lady Ashlynn is up to handling such a large group right now?"