Page 7 of Captive
The council chamber returned to focus as Boarstaff opened his eyes. They watched him, waiting for the judgment they expected, immediate execution, the only logical response to such a threat. The response any warchief in their history would have given.
"The vampire spoke during his fever," Doechaser reported, entering the chamber with herbal traces still clinging to her hands. "He mentioned a human child. A girl with a wooden doll, awaiting ceremonies that would transform her as they transformed him. He sought to rescue her from his father's citadel."
The council fell silent at this new information. Even Thornmaker looked troubled.
Boarstaff thought of his sister's children, so close in age to the human child. What would he risk to save them from such a fate? Everything. Everyone. Even himself.
"I once swore an oath," Boarstaff said, voice carrying to the chamber's edges. "When I took up the warchief's mantle. To protect our people, yes. But also, to honor the wisdom that has guided us since the Heart Tree first took root." He looked at each council member in turn. "Part of that wisdom is recognizing when old patterns must change. When new paths must be walked."
"You suggest mercy for a vampire noble?" Thornmaker's voice held disbelief. "After all they've done?"
"I suggest we consider what Ochrehand's vision might mean," Boarstaff corrected. "If true, what possibilities it reveals."
The argument that followed was predictable, fears voiced, dangers outlined, risks calculated. Boarstaff listened, weighing each concern against the image Ochrehand had planted in his mind: him fighting alongside the vampire when darkness came. An absurd image. A dangerous one. And yet...
"The synthetic scouts draw closer," Thornmaker warned as the debate circled back to immediate concerns. "If they find their noble in our territory..."
"They'll burn every tree between here and their citadel," Moonsinger finished. "Slaughter every orc they find."
Boarstaff rose, decision made. "I won't order his death." The words landed like stone against metal in the sudden silence. "Not yet."
Protests erupted, but he raised a hand for silence. "I hear your concerns. The threat he represents. The danger his presence brings." He let his gaze move around the circle, meeting each council member's eyes. "But I will not ignore Ochrehand's vision without exploring its meaning."
"At what cost?" Rockbreaker demanded. "How many of our people do you risk on the chance that one vampire might..."
"I risk what I must," Boarstaff's voice hardened. "As I've always done."
The statement hung in the chamber, weighted with shared history. They had followed him into battle, had trusted his judgment when border skirmishes threatened to become open war. Had seen him place himself between their people and danger countless times.
"You've earned our trust," Moonsinger said finally. "But this tests that trust beyond measure."
"As it should," Boarstaff acknowledged. "I don't ask blind faith. I ask for time to determine what Ochrehand's vision truly means. To discover what becomes of a vampire noble when his synthetic components fail and magic reawakens what was buried."
"And if he dies during this... transformation?" Thornmaker asked. "If his father's armies find his body in our territory?"
"Then we face that war together," he said. "As we've faced every threat since the Heart Tree first took root."
Koric burst through the chamber doors, his young face flushed with alarm. "Warchief! The vampire, the shaman has taken him!"
The council chamber froze. Thornmaker was the first to react, already moving toward the door. "Where?"
"The sacred chambers," Koric reported, his voice breaking with the weight of the news. "She used the hidden paths. "
Boarstaff moved with purpose born of years in command. "How long?"
"Not more than an hour past. The dawn patrol found the healing house empty, tracks leading to the Heart Tree's lower levels."
Shock rippled through the council. Ochrehand had defied not just procedure, but a direct order. Had brought vampire corruption to their most sacred space while they debated proper course.
"This is insubordination," Thornmaker declared, spear already in hand. "Treason against council authority."
"It's desperation," Moonsinger corrected, rising with surprising quickness for her age. "She truly believes in her vision. Believes we won't decide in time to save him."
Boarstaff was already moving, purpose clear in every step. "Continue the debate if you wish. I'm going to see what she's done."
The council followed, argument temporarily forgotten in the face of the unprecedented defiance. They descended the worn spiral stairs toward the Heart Tree's depths, each level darkening as crystal formations grew larger. The air thickened with ancient magic, power that had accumulated through generations of ritual.
Another guard met them halfway down. "Warchief, it's already happening. The transformation. The crystals react to his presence unlike anything we've seen before."
