Thanks to Liter Knight for their excellent editing and encouragement. I couldn't have done it without them!
Chapter 7
Everyone was in the command tent, celebrating their victory. The table was festooned with food and drink, with house banners on each wall and the enemies' weapons in piles outside. Patrick's axe capped the largest pile, shining in the moonlight. There was the clinking of bottles and rowdy conversation was already beginning.
Helena stood. Her dress was pristine and her hair coiffed as usual, she raised a glass of wine, "A toast to the victors."
Everyone raised their glasses, "To the victors!"
Gwen drank from her goblet. It was full of blood mead Christoph had provided. It burned her throat and her nostrils as it went down.
Helena lowered her wine glass, "In centuries past, my house attempted their great conquests alone and were always thrown back. But this is the start of a new era. The four great houses now stand united, and our victory this night proves once again we are far stronger together than we are apart. What happened tonight is another portent of the future. A future in which all our houses prosper together."
Gwen raised her goblet again. Helena was as pretentious as always but at least she was talking about the bridges they were building. Gwen hoped her grandmother would be proud of her.
Christoph came up to her and clinked his bottle of mead with her goblet and with Will's, "To the heroes of the hour."
There was a general round of cheers.
"Thank you," said Gwen, a smile in her voice, "but we're all heroes here. To all of us."
There was another round of cheers at that. Even Helena smiled.
Conversation restarted, Gwen looked around and was happy to see all the house soldiers mingling together freely. The conversation had a warm, playful edge to it, but knowing this crowd things were likely to get wilder as the night wore on. Gwen took another slug of her mead and winced at the burn. She was going to have to pace herself.
When she lowered her goblet, Christoph was smiling at her. "Remind me never to fuck with you, Gwen," he said, "you hit that front line like a scythe through wheat. I couldn't even see you."
Gwen laughed, "It only worked because Will blew a hole for me first. That was a cute trick."
Will shrugged, "Thanks... you know, everyone hates bugs."
Gwen nodded with false seriousness, "Everyone hates bugs."
"I liked it when Christoph pulled that guy's head off and emptied him like a wineskin. That was scarier than my bugs," said Will.
"Ha, yeah thanks. That took a lot of practice," Said Christoph.
"It did?" Asked Gwen.
"Oh yeah! You have to use just the right amount of pressure. Too little and not enough comes out, too much and the body just explodes."
There was a pause.
"How do you practice that?" asked Will.
"On pigs. Mostly. Sometimes we do pig chugging races at the big moots."
Gwen laughed her high arching laugh at that and took another swig of blood mead. Christoph said the Gevudan brewed it from honey made by bees fed on vampire blood. Gwen would have to tell her house's brewers about it because it was strong and cool and delicious. She hadn't been this buzzed in decades. She looked in the corner and saw Callie making out with the mercenary she had been beating the night before, while the halfbood who had fought for her was licking her neck and groping her breast, Gwen laughed again and took another drink.
The night got hazy after that. It came to her in snippets, strangely similar to her experience during the battle. She remembered standing on the table in the middle of the room arm and arm with Will, singing one of Elaine's songs while the crowd applauded. The world blurred, and next thing she knew she was chugging a wineskin, trying to get the pressure just right while Cristoph gave her pointers. Then she was on her hands and knees drinking blood from the thigh of one of the mercenaries she had just finished eating out while Callie fucked the mercenary she had been kissing earlier next to her. The mercenary cried out as Callie's fangs sank into him. And the cries of the two made a beautiful chorus.
The last thing Gwen remembered was stumbling into her tent as she felt the sun growling restlessly over the horizon. She fell into blankets, body sinking into her bedding as dawn claimed the world.
...
Gwen woke up that night and gasped. She was viciously, completely hungover. She had no idea she was even capable of being hungover anymore but somehow she had managed it. Fighting through the splitting headache, she dragged on the first clothes she could find, a pair of wool trousers and simple cotton shirt, and stumbled out of the tent. She looked up at the moon and winced as the light pierced her skull, kicking her headache to a new level. She stumbled toward what she hoped was the direction of the supply tent. She made her way through a few rows of tents when a voice spoke up behind her.
"Ser Gwendolyn, Lady Helena requests your presence at your earliest..."
She whirled and saw Helena's manservant. She cut him off, "Blood. Now."
He started and his eyes widened then he quickly ran the way she had been going. Gwen sat down on the ground and put her head in her hands.
A few minutes later she heard a diffident voice above her, "Ser Gwendolyn?"
She looked up and the manservant was back with a wine bottle on a silver tray. She snatched it from the tray and started chugging. She used the blood as soon as it hit her system to purge the toxins from her, hydrate her body, and banish the hangover. She finished the bottle, sighed in relief, and stood.
"Okay, now what were you saying?"
The manservant licked his lips nervously, "Umm, Lady Helena requests your presence at your earliest possible convenience."
She sighed, "Fine, I'll be right over."
"Umm... you may take a moment to freshen up if you wish."
Gwen looked down at herself. She hadn't put on a bra and the blood had made her nipples hard. She looked up at the manservant and glared. Without a word he spun and ran.
After finding some grooming powder and fresh underwear, and changing into a simple white shirt and blue skirt, Gwen made her way to the command tent. As she walked through the camp she saw the mercenaries and their camp followers striking the tents, preparing to move. She noted with satisfaction many of them were nursing hangovers as well. Helena had originally wanted to quarter the troops in the village but Gwen had convinced her to just move the camp closer. They didn't need the wave of looting and assaults that occurred whenever soldiers occupied the homes of the conquered.
In the command tent there were still signs of the celebration from last night being cleaned up by Helena's servants. Helena had added a vaguely throne-like chair for her to sit in. Gwen was the last of the vampires to arrive and Helena gave her a respectful nod, her face studiously blank, "So pleased you could finally join us."
Gwen bit back a sarcastic reply, she was supposed to play nice. "Sorry, took me a while to recover from last night. That blood mead is murder."
Christoph laughed, "I'll return your compliments to the brewers."
Helena ignored the banter, "Tax collection proceeded throughout the day and is now completed. But I wanted to have an additional little ceremony. I would like to gift each of you with a thrall, taken from among the villagers, as a reward for your efforts on my house's behalf.
Christoph smiled, "Nice! Sounds good to me."
"If you want," said Will
"I appreciate the offer but I think the villagers paid enough already," said Gwen.
Helena shook her head, "I must insist. My gift serves a secondary purpose. I wish to stress the cost of disobedience to the village to discourage further rebellion."
"Ah, so want us to all grab a hottie. Make all the big strong guys feel bad they can't protect their women," said Cristoph.
