Stephen Hulin

  ‘Four days.’

  ‘Four days and nights. I'd like to know the reasons you did this. Both things.’

  ‘Both?’ - She raised her brows and goblet. ‘But there's one. And still the same.’

  ‘Oh.’ He pretended that Mozaïk hustling about on opposite site of patio had his undivided attention. ‘For this same reason, that you snitched on me, and put me in prison you got me out of prison?’

  ‘Bravo.’

  ‘I'll ask then: Why?’

  ‘To show you that I can.’

  He took a sip of wine. Indeed a very good one.

  ‘You proved,’ he nodded, ‘that you can. You could as a matter of fact just had told me so, even meeting me on a street. I would have believed you. You preferred to make a point differently and more emphatically. So I'll ask: what now?’

  ‘I'm still thinking it over,’ she stared at him predatory with her eyes half closed. 'But let's leave things to take their course. For now, let's say that I work for a few of my confraters. Wizards having certain plans. Those wizards, that are not unaware of my diplomatic talent, deemed me a proper person to inform you about those plans. That's all I can tell you for now.’

  ‘That's very little.’

  ‘You're right. But for now, I'm ashamed to say I don't know more myself. I did not expect that you would show up so fast, that you would discover so quickly who paid the fee. Which was - I was told - supposed to stay a mystery. When I know more I will fill you in. Be patient.’

  ‘What about the case of my swords? Is that an element of this play? Those secret wizards plans? Or just another proof that you can?’

  ‘I don't know anything about your swords, whatever that's supposed to mean and regard.’

  He didn’t believe her fully. But he did not ask more.

  ‘Your confraters, the wizards,’ he said, ‘are lately outdoing one another in showing me antipathy and hostility. They crawl out of their skin to pester me and make life unbearable for me. In every bad adventure, that befallen me I have a right to expect that they were involved. A band of unlucky occurrences. They put me in jail, and then free me, then they tell me that they have plans regarding me. What will your confraters think of now? I'm afraid to even speculate. And you - very diplomatically I must say - tell me to be patient. But I don't have a choice. I must wait for the case that your denunciation caused to come on trial.’

  ‘But for now,’ the sorceress smiled, ‘you can take advantage of your freedom fully, and enjoy all of its benefits. You are released pending trial. If the case will ever come on trial, which is not at all sure. And even if it will you have no cause to worry. Trust me.’

  ‘With trust,’ he answered with smile, ‘it could be difficult. You confraters doing strongly taxed my trustfulness. But I'll try. I'll now go. To trust and patiently wait. I bow to you.’

  ‘Don't bow just yet, just a while longer. Mozaïk, wine.’

  She changed her pose on the armchair. The witcher still stubbornly pretended that he didn’t see her knee and thigh visible in the slit of the dress.

  ‘Well,’ she said after a while, ‘there's no point in beating around the bush. Witchers were never esteemed in our circles, but ignoring you was sufficient. But only up to a certain time.’

  ‘Up to a time,’ he had enough of being evasive, ‘when I came into a relationship with Yennefer.’

  ‘Well, no. You are mistaken,’ she put her jade eyes on him. ‘Doubly so. Primo it was not you that came into relationship with Yennefer, it was the other way around. Secundo, this relationship did not shock anyone. There were more extravagant things going on around us. The turning point was your parting. When was it? A year ago? Oh, how fast the time passes...’

  She made a long pause for effect, counting on his reaction.

  ‘A year ago,’ she continued when it was clear that there will be nothing forthcoming, ‘a part of our circle... Not very big, but influential... deigned to notice you. It wasn't clear for everyone what happened between you too. Some of us were thinking that it was Yennefer that sobered up and broke up with you and threw you out. Others dared to suppose it was you that broke up with her and escaped. As a result you became the object of interest. And as you rightly guessed, antipathy. There were even those that wanted to punish you. Luckily for you the majority decided that it was not worth it.’

  ‘And you? Which part of your circle you were in?’

  ‘To the part,’ Lytta twisted her coral lips, ‘that was only amused by your affair. Sometimes it made us laugh. Sometimes it gave us an almost hazard-like entertainment. Personally I owe to you quite a bit of inflow of cash. There were bets on how long you would stand it with Yennefer. Stakes were high. I bet, as it turned out most right. And swept the board.’

  ‘Then it would be better if I go now. I shouldn't visit you, we should not be seen together. Else they will be ready to think that we set up this bet.’

  ‘You care about what they think?’

  ‘Not much. And your winning pleases me. I had in mind to repay you the five hundred crowns from the fee, but as you swept the board I don't feel obliged anymore. Let’s call it even.’

  ‘You mentioning repaying the fee,’ an evil flash showed in Lytta Neyd in green eyes, ‘doesn't mean you hold the intention to flee? Without waiting for a trial. No, no, you could not have such an intention. You know well that such an intention will get you back behind bars. You know that, don't you?’

  ‘You don't have to prove to me that you can.’

  ‘I'd prefer that I was not forced to do so, I tell you with my hand over my heart.’

  She put her hand over her cleavage, with the obvious goal of getting his attention there. He pretended that he did not notice it, and looked at Mozaïk again. Lytta cleared her throat.

  ‘And when it comes for compensation, or dividing the prize in the bet,’ she said, ‘then you are actually right. You deserve it. I wouldn't dare to propose money to you. What about limitless credit in ‘Natura Rerum’ for as long as you stay? Because of me your last visit at this inn ended before it really began, so now...’

  ‘No. Thanks. I appreciate your good will and intentions. But thanks, no.’

  ‘Are you sure? Well you undoubtedly are. I needlessly alluded to putting you in prison. You provoked me. And beguiled me. Your eyes, your weird mutated eyes, so sincere it seems, constantly wander. And beguile. You are not sincere. No. I know I know, in the mouth of a sorceress it is a compliment. You wanted to say this, didn't you?’

  ‘Bravo.’

  ‘And could you can afford to be sincere? If I demanded so?’

  ‘If you asked so.’

  ‘Oh. Let it be so. I’ll ask you then. What caused that with Yennefer? Yennefer and no other? Could you describe it, name it?’

  ‘If this is object of a bet...’

  ‘It's not object of a bet. Why Yennefer of Vengerberg?’

  Mozaïk showed up like a shadow. With a new carafe. And cookies. Geralt looked her in the eyes. She immediately turned her head away.

  ‘Why Yennefer,’ he repeated, looking at Mozaïk. ‘Why her exactly? I will tell you sincerely. I don't know. There are such women that... One look is enough...’

  Mozaïk opened her mouth, moved her head slightly. Negatively and with terror. She knew. And begged that he would stop. But the game had gone too far.

  ‘There are women,’ - he still wandered his eyes over the girl's figure, ‘which attract you. Like a magnet. That you can't take your eyes off.’

  ‘Leave us, Mozaïk.’ - In Lytta’s voice the sound of ice grinding on iron could be heard. ‘And thank you, Geralt of Rivia. For the visit. And patience. And sincerity.’

  A Witcher's sword (figure 40) is noticeable for its build, it seems to be quintessence of what's best in a sword. The best steel, and method of forging, specific to dwarven foundries and forges, give the blade it lightness, but also extraordinary resilience. Witcher's swords are also sharpened in a dwarven way, a
way that is secret, and will remain secret for ages as dwarves are very envious about their secrets. With dwarven crafted swords it is possible to cut in half a silken scarf thrown into air. This same trick - we know it from first hand sources - witchers could do with their swords

  Pandolfo Forteguerra, Treatise on cold steel

  Chapter Six

  A short morning storm and rain refreshed the air for a short while, after that with a breeze from Palmyra came the stench of waste, burned fat, and rotting fish which became once again bothersome.

  Geralt spend the night at Dandelion's inn. The room occupied by bard was snug. In direct meaning. To get to bed one had to hug the wall. Fortunately the bed was large enough for two, and it was possible to sleep. It creaked hellishly, and the mattress had been firmed by incoming merchants, known amateurs of intensely extramarital sex.

  Geralt, who knows why, dreamed of Lytta Neyd.

  To break fast they went to a nearby market, to market hall in which, as the bard managed to find out, exquisite sardines were served. Dandelion was paying. Geralt was not bothered by this. Often it was the other way around - Dandelion having no money took advantage of his generosity.

  So they sat down behind a crudely finished table and started eating fried crispy sardines that were brought to them on a wooden platter, big like a barrow wheel. Dandelion, the witcher noticed, was looking fearful from time to time. And froze when it seemed to him that passerby looks at him too long.

  ‘You should, I think,’ he murmured finally, ‘buy a weapon. And carry it in a visible place. It's worth to learn from yesterday's events, don't you think? Look there - you see chain mails and shields on display? That is an armorer’s stall. I'm sure that they have swords too.’

  ‘In this city,’ Geralt chewed on a sardine and spitted out a fin, ‘arms are forbidden. Newcomers have their weapons taken from them. It looks that only bandits are allowed to walk armed here.

  ‘They can, and they walk.’ The bard indicated a passing ruffian with a huge battle axe on his shoulder. ‘But in Kerack prohibitions are establishing prohibitions, ensuring that they are respected and punished, breaking them is done by Ferrant de Lettenhove, who is as you know my cousin. And because nepotism is a holy law of nature, we can safely ignore local prohibitions. We are I say now, entitled to having and carrying weapons. We will finish breakfast and we will go buy you a sword. Lady Hostess! Those fish are exquisite! Please fry ten more!’

  ‘I’ll eat these sardines and I assert that the loss of my swords is nothing more than a punishment for gluttony and snobism. For that I wanted luxuries. I got work in this neighborhood so I thought to visit Kerack and eat at the ‘Natura Rerum’ inn that is famous in all the world. And I could eat tripe, cabbage with peas or fish soup anywhere.’

  ‘By the way,’ said Dandelion ‘Natura Rerum’, although famous for its kitchen deservedly, is but a one of many. There are inns in which the food is not worse, and sometimes better that at ‘Natura Rerum’. For example ‘Saffron and Peeper’ in Gor Velen or ‘Hen Cerbin’ in Novigrad with its own brewery. Or even ‘Sonatina in Cidaris not far from here, has the best seafood on the whole shore. ‘Rivoli’ in Maribor and their grouse á la Brokilon, stuffed with pork fat, is delicious. ‘Paprzyca’ in Adelsberg and their famous hare haunch with morels á la king Videmont. ‘Hofmeier’ in Hirundum... Visit there in the fall, after Savoine, and try baked goose in pear sauce... Or ‘Two Loaches’ a few miles beyond Ard Carraigh, they are a normal inn at the crossroads, and they serve the best pork shanks I ever tried. Hey! Looked who visits us! Talk of the devil! Hi, Ferrant... That is Master Instigator...’

  Ferrant de Lettenhove approached alone gesturing to his guards to say on the road.

  ‘Julian, Master of Rivia. I bring news.’

  ‘I make no secret,’ answered Geralt ‘of fact that I’m growing impatient. Which felons testified? Those that assaulted me yesterday, taking advantage of fact that I was unarmed. They were speaking about this loudly and openly. That is proof that they had a hand in stealing my swords.’

  ‘There is unfortunately no proof of that,’ instigator shrugged. ‘The three imprisoned are just scum, stupid at that. They assaulted you - that's true, encouraged by the fact that you were unarmed. Gossip about theft spread unbelievably quickly - thanks to it seems the ladies from the guardhouse. And they were instantly willing to assault you... Which is not weird, taking into account that you are not very popular. And you don't want popularity or liking. In prison you have beaten up your fellow prisoners.’

  ‘Yeah,’ the witcher nodded, ‘It's all my fault. The guys from yesterday were hurt too. They didn't complain? Do they demand reparation?’

  Dandelion laughed, but became silent quickly.

  ‘Witnesses of yesterday’s events,’ said Ferrant de Lettenhove harshly, ’testified that those three were beaten with a cooper’s stave. And beaten cruelly. So much so, that one of them soiled himself.’

  ‘Surely because of emotion.’

  ‘They were beaten,’ the instigator's facial expression didn't change, ‘even when they were already incapacitated and were no longer a threat. And this means overstepping the boundaries of self-defense.’

  ‘I'm not afraid. I have good lawyer.’

  ‘Sardine?’ Dandelion interrupted the heavy silence.

  ‘I inform you,’ said the Instigator, ‘that the investigation is in progress. The arrested were not involved in the theft. We interrogated a few people that may be involved, but no evidence was found. Our informers were unable to provide any clues. It's known however - and I arrive mainly with this information - that gossip about the swords caused quite a stir in the underworld. There appeared allegedly newcomers that want to fight a witcher, particularly unarmed. I’d advise vigilance. I can't rule out further incidents. I'm not sure Julian that in these circumstances that the company of Master of Rivia...’

  ‘In the company of Geralt,’ interrupted the bard, ‘I was in far dire circumstances. We were in a quagmire far more dangerous than local thugs. Provide us, cousin - if you think it prudent, with an armed escort. Let them discourage potential assailants. Because if when Geralt beats up the next scumbags, they will whine about overstepping the bounds of self-defense.’

  ‘If they are scumbags,’ said Geralt, ‘and not paid slaughterers hired by someone. Does the investigation take into account such possibility?’

  ‘We take into account all possibilities,’ answered Ferrant de Lettenhove. ‘The investigation will continue. And I will grant you an escort.’

  ‘We are happy.’

  ‘Farewell.’

  Over the roofs of city sea gulls shrieked.

  ***

  The visit to the armor smith, it turned out could be skipped. Geralt only needed a single look at the swords offered. When he was given their prices he shrugged and left shop without single word.

  ‘I thought,’ Dandelion joined him on the street, ‘that we had an understanding. You were supposed to buy something to not look unarmed.’

  ‘I won't waste money on anything. Even if it is your money. They were thrash, Dandelion. Crude swords mass produced. And showy court swords, fit only for a mask ball if you wanted to dress like a fencer. And the prices were such as to cause vain laughter.’

  ‘Let's find another store, or workshop!’

  ‘It's going to be the same everywhere. There is need for arms that will serve in one good fight. And they will not serve the winners, because when taken from a battlefield it is not usable anymore. And there is need for shiny decorations with which dandies parade. But you can't cut sausage with them.’

  ‘You are as always overstating.’

  ‘In your mouth this is compliment’.

  ‘Unintended! Where could you get a good sword then? Not worse than those stolen. Or even better.’

  ‘Oh, there are masters of the sword maker’s profession. Maybe they would even have some decent blade in store. But I need a sword that fits my hand,
that's made specifically or me. It would take few months - maybe a year. I don't have so much time.’

  ‘But you need to buy some sword,’ the bard pointed out soberly. ‘And this is rather pressing. So what's left? Maybe...’

  He lowered his voice, and looked around.

  ‘Maybe... Maybe Kaer Morhen? There are surely...’

  ‘Surely.’ interrupted Geralt clenching his teeth. ‘There are enough blades left, including silver. But it's far, and there's no single day without storm and rain. Rivers are overflowing. The journey would take a month. And besides...’

  He angrily kicked hollow basket left by someone.

  ‘I let myself get robbed. Dandelion. Get cheated and robbed like a looser. Vesemir would mock me mercilessly. And the other witchers, if there would be any also would have a lot of fun. They would mock me for years. That's not an option dammit. I have to manage. And alone.’

  They heard a flute and drum. They walked into a square were vegetables were traded, and a group of vagabonds played. Their repertoire was specifically for the morning - that is completely dumb and not funny at all. Dandelion walked between the stalls and there with respect-worthy and surprising, in a poet, knowledge he started to evaluate and gusted cucumbers, beet roots and apples proudly lying on stalls. And he flirted and discussed with sellers.

  ‘Sauerkraut!’ he stated picking said sauerkraut up with wooden pincers. ‘Try it Geralt. Its fine, isn't it? Its thing both tasty and beneficial. In winter, when there is a general lack of vitamins it prevents scurvy. It's also an antidepressant.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘You eat pot of sauerkraut, and then drink a pot of curd... and in no time depression is the least of your problems. You forget about it. Sometimes for quite a long time. At whom are you looking so closely? Who is that girl?’

  ‘An acquaintance. Wait here. I will talk to her and be right back.’

  The girl that was spotted was Mozaïk, whom he met at Lytta Neyd. The shy and slicked back haired pupil of the sorceress. In a modest but elegant dress in colour of rosewood. And buskins on cork, in which she moved quite gracefully, taking into account the slippery vegetable waste lying on the uneven cobbles.