A Scholar's travels with a Witcher

The scientific mind is a wonderful thing.

That part of your mind that spends its time analysing the experiences that it is going through, the things that are happening to the body that it inhabits and trying to figure out the world that it sees and is taking part in. One of the bigger examples of this is the way that my mind gets fascinated by things.

One of those things is the way in which my body wakes up. I am intrigued by the sensations that I experience, the order in which they come to mind and the way that they register.

For instance, in the morning that I am discussing, the first thing that occured to me was that something had woken me up but given that the thing that had woken me up was now in the past, I had no idea what it was. So the first thing that occured to me, the first thing that I felt, was the warm, comforting weight of the woman that was lying next to me and across me.

These pleasures don’t happen often, especially given the woman that is my chosen sleeping partner, but when they do happen, you must enjoy them whenever they occur.

Then it occured to me that something had woken me up. This may sound backwards and I completely agree but there it is. Take it up with my early morning brain that was still struggling to free itself from the grasp of slumber.

But then the stimulus that had started me off on the path towards waking up occured again. Someone was tugging on my left arm.

My left arm because the right arm was trapped against the body of the woman and I was not particularly inclined to move it, or her.

“Lord Duke?” Someone whispered. “Lord Duke?”

Damn it.

I opened an eye to gaze into the earnest and plainly terrified face of my squire. He’s a nice lad. He’s been sent to me by the Knights of Saint Francesca in an effort to educate him a bit in how the world works on the outside of the realm of Toussaint. He treats me with a kind of awe which is both mortifying and gratifying in equal measure. He doesn’t understand that although I am a Duke and he is a follower of a Duchess, he doesn’t understand that I am not equal to the Duchess in question, due to a complicated series of legal and political treaties. He just hears “Duke” and “Duchess” and gets a bit confused.

As I say, he’s a nice lad.

“Wht?” I muttered, still trying to enjoy the sensation of waking up next to a beautiful naked woman.

“Lord Duke, I know that you don’t like to be disturbed until later in the day, especially when the Duchess…”

“Spit ‘t ‘ut,” I managed, not entirely awake yet.

My square, who goes by the name of Gautier paled slightly.

“Well, milord Duke… It’s just that….”

I narrowed my eyes.

He closed his own eyes and just went for it.

“You asked to be woken up early.”

I had indeed asked to be woken up early.

“So you come in here,” I hissed, “despite the fact that my wife, the Duchess, is here, asleep and possibly in a state of undress…”

“I’m sorry Lord Duke, I’m sorry.” He whimpered.

“Get out.” I snarled. “And open a drape on the way out,”

The poor boy fled and had to come back to open a drape before fleeing again.

The woman next to me stirred as the early morning sunlight broke into the room and crossed her head. I have situated the bed deliberately to take advantage of the natural aid towards waking up.

Unfortunately, it turns out that Vampires are not naturally morning people. Who would have thought it?

“You are very cruel to that boy,” came a voice from somewhere within the depths of the pile of pillows and tangled dark hair.

“I know,” I told the mass, doing my best to crawl from beneath the covers while keeping as much of the warmth inside the blanket cocoon as I could.

“But Guillaume tells me that he has a problem with believing that anyone that is being nice to him is virtuous. So all anyone would ever have to do in order to bribe him or… you know. Would be able to…”

An arm reached out and caught me before pulling me back into bed with a strength that was impossible to ignore. I might have grown stronger in the intervening time but there is nothing that I can do when an Elder Vampire decides that she is not finished with me.

I didn’t really have time to see her before she was kissing me and holding onto me firmly.

“Darling,” I managed when I could get some breath back and she went in for a cuddle rather than anything further. “I don’t want to be late and to miss him.”

Ariadne made some noises that suggested that such matters were unimportant when she required extra kisses from her husband.

“You were the one that suggested that I need to get up early.”

“I was a younger person then,” she told me gravely. “I have gained time and wisdom and have decided that such things are unimportant.”

“You said them last night.”

“Yes,” she told me seriously. “As I say, I was younger then.”

I fought back, pushing her onto her back and gaining some measure of vengeance with the kissing and the cuddling. I always enjoy that because there is no way I would be able to if she didn’t want me to. Then I tickled her. Which is another thing that I have learned… Along with not being a morning person, my wife is very ticklish.

“Enough,” she begged, sounding a little breathless. “We need to stop or I will keep you in bed for the rest of the day.”

I looked down at her with her hair all mussed up, her lips slightly parted and laughter dancing in the depths of her eyes. First I wondered how I could ever have thought of this woman as being emotionless. Then I wondered how I could have gotten so lucky to be with her.

“You assume you had much choice in the matter,” she smiled.

“You know I don’t like it when you read my mind,”

“Yes you do,” she declared confidently. “Especially when it means that I can prolong things in matters of pleasure.”

“Yes, well…”

“Fascinating, you are blushing. You were not blushing last night when you…”

I silenced her by kissing her.

“I had better go,” I said after a long moment.

“Yes you had better.”

I extricated myself from the now tangled sheets and blankets and for a moment I enjoyed the cooling Autumn air before pulling over my wooden legs and strapping them into place, while Ariadne rearranged the bedclothes around herself.

“Besides, I wasn’t reading your mind,” she told me while she beat the pillows back into an acceptable shape. “It was written all over your face.”

I decided to let that one go while I was pulling some trews on.

“Are you going to stay in bed for a bit?” I wondered.

“Just for a bit,” she agreed, rolling around for a bit to get the blankets good and tucked in around herself. “But they’re packing up my laboratory equipment today and I need to supervise.”

I picked up my shirt and pulled it over my head. “You know, you could always have two labs. One in Angral and one here.”

“It’s not the same Freddie,” she protested and I laughed, hiding it behind the pulling on of my tunic.

My boots slipped on over my wooden feet and I tucked one of my daggers in the groove that had been carved for it on the inside of my left leg. Then I turned back to the bed to tie my belt around myself to find that Ariadne was watching me.

She still looks so beautiful to me in these moments that it takes my breath away. One of the sheets was beginning to fall off her shoulders, her hair was a mess of tangles and she was smiling gently at me.

“You do not need to be nervous,” she told me gently. “It will all come right.”

“I know,” I told her.

“It will… It did with me.”

“I know that too.”

“Then go, we will see you in Angral in a couple of weeks. No more than a month Freddie.”

“I know, I know, Ameiko has already threatened me with violence should I be late.”

“I love you,” she said softly,

She still gets nervous saying that sometimes, as though the words might terrify me and drive me away.

“I love you too,” I told her. “Do you want me to shut the drapes on the way out?”

“Yes please.” She told me, pulling the blankets over her head. “Daylight, phooey.”

I chuckled as I tucked the belly knife into my waist and picked up my axe, slinging it over my shoulder and retying the drapes as I left.

Ameiko was waiting for me outside the room.

“Good morning Ameiko,” I told her.

She responded by holding out a scroll.

“General Gaubert sent this and wants you to know that although he is pleased with the recruitment numbers that we have managed to make, there is still room for improvement.”

She followed me down the corridor, for a woman roughly two thirds my height with a habit of wearing tight skirts, she can move surprisingly fast.

“Today is not a working day Ameiko, we are moving to Angral.” I teased her.

“It might not be a working day for you Lord Duke, but for the rest of us, the continent does not grind to a halt.”

“Fair enough,”

“Also, Intelligence suggested that you might want to read these papers on why recruitment is so far down,”

“Queen Regent resenting the handover of troops?”

“You would have to read the report to find that out Milord.”

“Ameiko?”

“Intelligence was quite insistent that you read the report,” she sniffed, which meant that she was done with that topic. “Also he wants to let you know that Jarl Holger Blackhand is now openly accepting advice to suggest that Coulthard shipping can be raided again,”

“Has he done it yet?”

“Not yet, but…”

“Is that also in the report?”

“There are multiple reports.”

“There always are from Intelligence.”

“Indeed,”

I looked at the tiny woman who walked next to me as we moved through the castle towards the hall.

“How are things going between the two of you?” I wondered.

“He is still of the opinion that I am too young for him.”

“Are you not…?”

“200 years older than him? Yes. But he says it’s about the appearance of the matter.”

“Tell him that I said there is nothing quite like the experience of an older woman,”

“I have already tried that tactic,”

We moved down some stairs and into the entrance way.

“Then tell him that if he hasn’t got his act together by the time I get back then I will sick the Duchess on him and then he can stand there and talk to her about age differences.”

Ameiko made a little noise. She has a few of them now which is how she properly expresses herself. In this case this one was “I am done talking about this subject now and I would like to move on.”

I grinned, I always like needling the little Yuki Onna. It reminds me of how much alike we all are.

“There is also a letter from Lady Eilhart asking whether or not you have any more thoughts on the sites for potential Witcher Schools? And a letter from Lord Voorhis briefing you on the current thinking of the Empress regarding the potential for accepting suitors.”

“She still doesn’t like the idea?” I guessed.

“It is not a large letter,” she agreed.

I sighed and held out my hand for the small sheaf of scrolls that she gave me.

“Thank you Ameiko,” I said, moving through to the dining hall.

“Thank you Lord Duke,” she said before turning away.

Carys was waiting for me in ambush while I waited to get my breakfast.

“No,” I told her.

“Just a couple of guards,” She insisted. “Milord I must insist, a couple of guards.”

“No,” I said.

“Milord…”

“For a start, for you a couple of guards means a couple of dozen guards.” I put the bundle of messages down on the table next to where I was going to eat and moved to the coffee pot.

I have acquired a taste for it over the years since Ariadne introduced me to it.

“Secondly, do you mean to tell me that your husband is so terrible at his job that I would be in danger between here and where I’m going?”

“That’s unfair,”

“But you expect me to get attacked?”

“I expect that if there were a hundred safe roads, and only one which led into a monster’s den, you would leap into the monster’s den while wondering whether or not it would be fun.”

I considered this as I sat down.

“Not an unfair comment,” I told her. “But I have someplace I need to be. I promise that I will take the direct route and from there, success or failure, I will head straight to Angral. And I will have my axe and be discreet with it all.”

“But I could send just a couple of guards with you,”

“No,”

She sulked a bit before stalking off.

My breakfast started off then, a plate of bacon and sausage with eggs and toast appeared in front of me with a servant heading off. Only for my Castellan to sit next to me. I was at least gratified to see that he was still straightening his chain of office. Breakfast is a movable affair in a working castle, something that I am getting used to. Ariadne and I often have breakfast brought to us in the morning, as do many of the men and women that have offices to work in. The hall is reserved for those men that are coming off, or going onto, shifts or are about to depart in some way. Other than the hot drinks, there are regular pots of porridge for both the sweet and savoury tastes and the Kitchen is constantly making eggs, bacon and sausages. You can make your preferences known in advance though and the Kitchen is well aware of what I am going to want if I turn up in the main hall to eat.

“Beaten you out of bed this morning Lord Granger,” I tried while I speared a sausage with my eating knife.

He ignored that. Lord Granger has an incredible ability to just ignore the things that I say so that he can get on with the important things, which is to run my castle for me whenever I have other things to do. Which is nearly always.

“General Grisholm informs me that we will need some new timber for the ammunition for the ballistae. The current timber cannot maintain the strain and simply shatters upon launch.”

“Have you found another supplier?” I asked as I took a mouthful of something meaty.

“We have, but it needs to come from a further distance.”

“Then get what he needs.”

“Yes Lord Duke. Also there is the matter that a number of the castle staff seem to think it is appropriate to urinate from the top of the walls into the ditch surrounding the castle.”

“And?”

“We have nightsoil wagons for a reason Milord, the stench can become…”

“And what would you have us do about it? People need to piss and sometimes it’s tricky to get to a chamber pot.”

“Even so, Dr Shani insists on the danger of disease with so many living and working in confined quarters…”

“What do you suggest?”

“A fine,” he answered properly. “Any time someone is caught not using the proper methods then they are fined.”

I shook my head.

“I will not encourage people to tell tales on their fellows. If we yell, people become angry. Instead, we make them laugh at their fellows.”

“Very good Milord.”

“Anything else? I am eager to get underway.”

“Mother Iona wished to speak to you,”

“Of course she does,” I took a quick gulp of coffee. “And Castellan?”

“Yes milord?” He enquired politely.

“Don’t turn the place into a monastery while I’m gone. It took ages for me to be able to hear laughter in the halls when we came back last time.”

“I shall endeavour to rediscover my sense of humour any day now milord. I understand that I have not looked for it in the servant’s quarters.”

He left.

I took the time to read one of the scrolls that Ameiko had given me while I ate. If I was not careful, my advisors and entourage would fill the day to the point that there was not enough time for me to actually go.

And yes, it would seem that the Empress was still not receptive to the idea of accepting suitors. She had a common phrase that she kept using which was “And who do you suggest I marry?” To which, Lord Voorhis, myself and several others were tired of coming up with variations of “You are the Empress of the continent, marry whoever you like.”

It was not going well. Lord Voorhis had written to advise me that he was retreating from his position for now and begged me to take up the slack in the meantime.

Another letter was a report about the increased viability of the new Witcher mutations that Lady Eilhart had been working on. There is a balancing point where the mutations need to be viable, useful and not deadly to place in someone. We could have people survive the mutation but then they were not useful enough. Or they would be useful but the subject would not survive.

We had some successful tests with volunteers and condemned criminals. But those mutations tended not to be of the most useful variety.

One of the Generals on the board of advisors had suggested that we were putting all of our eggs in one basket. We were thinking in terms of one person who could do everything that a Witcher needed to do. Why not have a travelling team of people that could do the job of one Witcher. This means that training wouldn’t be intensive and there would be the ability to specialise. The researcher would be better at researching while not having to worry about swordsmanship and the Alchemist could worry about potion brewing while not worrying about Magical abilities.

The idea did have some merit and I had turned the letter over to scribble some notes with a piece of charcoal while my left hand continued to shovel food in my face.

“Lord Duke,” Mother Iona doesn’t like to sit down when she has official business. She likes to stand in front of people with her hands clasped together in a way that she has decided means that she is being holy.

“Mother Iona,” I answered while finishing my thought and my last piece of bacon.

“It is all very well this period of the year when you move from Coulthard Castle to Angral, just as it is when you move from Angral to Coulthard Castle in the spring.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming.”

“But…”

“There it is,” I grinned. Mother Iona is another one that I just enjoy needling.

“But… It is also true that when the cat's away, the mice will play. Winter in Coulthard County means that there are more and more missionaries that come into the area to try and persuade the locals that their existing Yuletide celebrations are heretical and dangerous. If you were here instead then you would be able to keep an eye on such things so neither the Eternal Flame, nor the Great Sun, would be able to come and try to forcibly turn people to that worship against their will.”

It was not a new argument, or a new problem.

“If I was in Coulthard Castle then those self same missionaries would be able to go into Angral to be able to try and convert them there. And that danger is more profound as those people are more isolated and have more to fear from those that would preach that Ariadne is a monster, to those that would preach that she is just a woman that is pretending on the grounds that monsters don’t exist.”

“Also, there is the matter of the fact that you lose months out of your calendar travelling backwards and forwards between the two places.”

“You say that is a waste, but I see it as important,” I told her. This too was not a new argument. “In travelling, the people of our lands see us travelling and feel more secure in that. As it is, we spend far too much time using portals to get about.”

Her official veneer cracked as she smiled.

“The Witcher training in you showing through,” she teased

I laughed.

“Yes and no, On the one hand I know that it’s only one in a hundred portals that go wrong and leave a man a hundred miles in the air, or below ground, or cut in half or… whatever and yes, sooner or later it occurs to me that the odds are not in my favour. But the other thing is that, in travelling, we get to see what’s actually out there.”

“Oh yes, I am sure you see what’s actually out there with your hundred guards and your servants and your confessors and…”

I laughed again.

“Which is why this time, I am going alone…”

“Hardly incognito with that dreadful axe,”

“And when we do travel as a group, I have riders and advisors out to find out what it’s like out there.”

“You could send riders and advisors out when you are safely in the castle as well.”

“Or in Angral.” I pointed out.

She sniffed at that.

“Look,” I began. “I know that you are not comfortable with the move and you dislike moving to Angral…”

“It is not secure, you are too far away from the seats of power…”

“Which is why I trust you and Grantham and Danzig and the rest to deal with it.”

She pursed her lips in displeasure.

“You have the power Mother Iona, use it. You are more intelligent, kinder and wiser than any of those bastards that would try and take the traditions away from our people. Use those things… You are a powerful woman now and I charge you with the protections of our people. You don’t need me to do that do you?”

She stiffened.

“I thought not,” I told her. “You are more than just a Priestess to Melitele. You are an advisor to the Duke and the leader of his religious council. Act like it.”

“They won’t listen to me,”

I made my voice hard. “Then make them listen.”

She nodded unhappily.

“Safe travels Lord Duke,”

“Thank you Reverend Mother,”

I still had some work to do to build up her confidence. I have seen it in her when she stands up before angry men with fire and brimstone sermons. She fights them with kindness and empathy and it is always fun to watch as they have absolutely no idea how to combat that. It’s like watching a swordsman trying to cleave water in two. But she only uses those skills and that ability when she, or others are under direct attack. She needs to be able to bring out those tools at will rather than as a reflex.

I read another letter from Madame Yennefer about some things that she wanted to add to our latest book. After Jack we had written on the Elder and the Schattenmann. We were currently working on something regarding the Rumplesteldt. Apparently Witcher Eskel had made contact with the being and was wintering in Toussaint so that he, Yennefer and I would be able to talk it all over. I am excited about this project as this will be the first that is outside of my experience.

It was a large bundle of notes though and I rolled them back up and stuffed them inside my tunic so that I could read them during the journey. A move that would doubtlessly piss the lady off herself but… I am not as afraid of her as I used to be. Still pretty afraid just… not as afraid.

I realised that I was stalling.

“GAUTHIER,” I bellowed.

“Yes Lord Duke?” My Squire extricated himself from the shadows where he had been staring longingly at the coffee pot. He is too young for it as Ariadne has declared that over dependence on Coffee at so young an age can lead to addiction and a need for it later.

“What do I need Gauthier? I am nearly ready to depart.”

His forehead creased in thought.

“Lord, Your bags were all packed last night and I…”

“Think bigger Gauthier. What do I need to travel?”

“Water?”

“Yes, but not what I need.”

“Food, spare clothes…”

He was starting to panic. I am trying to teach him to think the next step ahead. He can follow orders well but he still only does what he’s told rather than anticipating needs. Not just mine but his own as well.

But I did not have time to indulge this today.

I sighed.

“Is my horse saddled and ready Gauthier?”

A look of panic crossed his face and he fled. Nearly running into Padraig as he went out the door.

“You are being cruel to that boy,” the big Skelligan told me as he came over to stand in front of me.

“I know,” I admitted. “I struggle to find the balance between stern and kind.”

“Maybe an edge in the other direction before you leave.” Padraig told me.

“Any ideas on how to do that?”

“Give him an important sounding responsibility, something to make his balls feel big.”

I grunted.

“I should also warn you that Carys is very cross with you,” he told me.

“I shall live with her disappointment.”

“You’re not the one that has to live with it,” he grinned.

“You like her when she’s angry,” I accused.

He nodded his admittance.

“I do at that. Nothing more beautiful than an angry woman when she’s angry at someone else.”

We both laughed.

“Report Knight-Captain,” I told him.

He drew himself up to attention.

“As you know Your Grace, your sister and her wife are coming to take up residence for a week to discuss trade with factors from Temeria and Cintra before they will follow you on to Angral. There is some consternation there and I would like permission to assign extra guards from the Coulthard garrison to supplement the Imperial ones. You Lady sister will be more comfortable that way.”

I nodded, “So ordered, Liaise with Captain Boisey so that the Imperials don’t think we’re insulting them.”

Padraig nodded. I suspect that he was already on the case there but still, it’s sometimes best to make sure.

“We are still being raided from Temeria in the South. Nothing more than a few head of cattle being carried off. Not much to us but a lot to the locals.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I want to do some old-fashioned bastarding to them.”

He meant that he wanted to assign some of the cattle rustlers and poachers that had found their way into our own ranks to take care of the matter.

“You have men in mind?” I wondered.

He grinned in answer.

“So ordered.” I told him. “Anything else?”

“Some church knights want to come East into…”

“No, Anything else?”

“Intelligence has ridden out to look at a merchant train that is coming up from the South. The merchant is not doing enough trading to be considered a real merchant but he’s asking a lot of questions and taking a circuitous route. Intelligence thinks he’s a spy looking for something,”

I nodded and considered for a moment.

“Check with my sister and Intelligence, but it strikes me that if he’s an important merchant, he needs a proper escort to ensure his safe travels.”

Padraig grinned again.

“Anything from Cidaris and Vergen?” I wondered.

“No Your Grace, The summer rains this year mean that the border is quite waterlogged. Cidaris has sent its navy to raid shipping rather than to aid another invasion effort.”

“Keep an eye on it, would you,” I pushed myself to my feet and wiped my mouth. “I don’t want to get to Angral to have to turn around and come back.”

“I will, your grace.”

“Then I’m off.” I told him, picking up my axe and slinging it over my shoulder.

He saluted and was already heading out of the room by the time I had had the chance to turn around. I walked out of the hall, nodding to the passing functionary as he went past me into the breakfast hall. He was yawning and I prefer to keep things informal in the morning. I crossed the entrance hall and walked down the corridor that led to my main office.

This is the part of the castle where the bureaucracy lives and where we run the Duchy of the Pontar valley out of while I am in residence. There is a smaller version in Angral and again in Vergen further to the east. Lots of offices and lots of people running around with very important slates and rolls of parchment that are the building blocks of any kind of feudal domain. I am good with names and at first, as the bureaucracy started to grow, I tried to learn everyone’s names but that was soon clear to be a futile effort. Instead, a perfunctory Good Morning would do and Ameiko has a habit of introducing them by name into my office if they have something to do.

I walked past most of them, keeping my head down so as not to invite conversation. I was a man on a mission and I had somewhere to be.

My own office is past that of my council offices with a large open area in front of it’s doors which contains Ameiko’s desk. She was sitting there, working on some paperwork and putting some scrolls in a bag to get them ready for transport now that my court was moving over to Angral for the winter. She looked up briefly to check whether or not I needed anything before moving back to her job.

I entered my office that had a couple of servants in it, cleaning and sweeping out the hearth. A couple of them were Ameiko’s deputies whose job it was to make sure none of the important paperwork would be missed or left lying around when we left.

These people, all women and hand-picked by Ameiko, I know by name. But I didn’t need any of them now. Instead, I moved to the armchair that was by the hearth. I picked up the long, thin bundle that I had left there from the previous evening when I had been working on it. I still didn’t know whether or not I should take it with me, but over my eggs and bacon, I had decided that it was better to have it and not need it.

I took another look around to see if I had forgotten anything before leaving.

The bundle felt ugly and heavy in my hand.

Gauthier had brought my horse up to the entrance and was waiting next to it, quivering with the excited terror of a young man expecting an inspection from a superior.

I examined the sky to find the sun shining. The flags on the keep and the walls showed me there was a little wind and no damp in the air leading me to decide that I didn’t need a heavy cloak and I walked down to the horse. A quick glance told me that Gauthier and the grooms had done a good job but I made a big play of examining everything, checking stirrups and straps and things as well as having a quick glance in my saddle bags to make sure everything was the way I wanted it.

“Well done Guathier,” I told the young man. “You’ve done a good job here.”

He visibly deflated in relief and I hid a smile and a chuckle by placing my long bundle on the part of my saddle that had been modified to hold it once, a long time ago.

“Thank you Lord,” he sagged a bit.

I nodded.

“Now,” I began. “I will be away for a while so I charge you to see to the needs of the Duchess wherever she needs you.”

He looked a little deflated. Not quite the warlike stationing that he was after, nor was it the sudden invitation to join me on the road that he had been hoping for. I wondered if his own horse was saddled and ready somewhere within ease of reach.

“Gauthier?”

“Yes Lord?”

“I assign you this post in the same way that I would assign you to a post on the battlefield.”

That was suitably vague that I hoped that Gauthier would be mollified. Ariadne would know what to do with him.

“Liaise with the other guards and get them to teach you how to be a proper guard. It is time you started to learn how to keep people safe.”

“Yes Lord,” he puffed out his chest and again, I hid a smirk by strapping my axe into place.

“Good lad,” I told him. “Now it is time for me to depart.”

“Yes Lord.”

I don’t know what Ariadne would make of that but I kind of hoped that she would forgive me. The thought of the young squire, skilled with weapons though he might be, defending the Elder Vampire at the height of her powers was an amusing thought.

I swung into the saddle, the fact that I could do that in one smooth motion again, given my wooden legs has still not gotten old and I took a moment to enjoy my physical capabilities before I looked up at the castle.

There was a beautiful woman in a light blue dress leaning out of an upper window, her dark hair blew in the breeze. She saw me looking and blew me a kiss before waving.

I lifted my hand in greeting.

“I love you,” I heard Ariadne’s voice whisper in my head. “Travel safely.”

“I love you too,” I whispered. “I will never stop.”

I thought I saw the figure nod in satisfaction before she gave me another wave and was gone from view.

I turned and rode out of the castle.

As I say, it is a busy castle now. The seat of power for a large bureaucracy and there are constantly people coming and going. But it is a military building first and when it was all being designed, there was a certain amount of insistence that the castle still follow those lines. Each building was temporary so that it could be pulled down and easily rebuilt in the events of a siege.

There was the hospital, still there for those people that are injured or sick as part of their duties to the realm. By the time of the Kalayn Rebellion it had all but emptied but now it is a thriving place again with doctors that work with them. Shani, Dean of medicine at the University, regularly sends me medical students to work at the hospital to learn about long term care for these kinds of injuries and I could see the young people walking among the wounded and sick men and women. There were often tears in that place but there was laughter too. I tried to visit it whenever I could while knowing that I still did not go enough.

The bathhouse had been moved into the keep and there was a stable in the upper courtyard now so that horses could have somewhere to be when they would be needed eminently rather than having a constant stream of people running up and down to the full stables.

There were still spare guest suites in the upper courtyard for when there were large numbers of dignitaries here and that had been the bane of the lives of my architects. As well as all of the outbuildings that I required and that they wanted to be able to defend the place, any spare space was taken up with another guest building for someone to stay in if needed.

We have been filled to capacity twice. The first time was when The Empress visited formally with the full Imperial court after the place was finished and the second time was when the Queen Regent came for a visit in an effort to remind me who is in charge.

I took a moment to giggle a bit at the memory.

My relationship with Queen Regent Adda has vastly improved in private, but in public there are still issues of people that are in her ear, preaching about how evil I am.

I rode through the outer gate and took a moment to watch the guards drilling with the Greater Imperial Garrison. Padraig and General Grissholm insisted on training the guards hard and I had deemed it good measure to not interfere. I returned some salutes and rode on.

The last courtyard still holds the main stables which I maintain in memory of Father. My feelings there have mellowed over the years and now I can admit that I missed that man dearly. I would love to show him around the place now and ask for his advice on some of the things that I was thinking.

But it was in that courtyard that I met Emma and Laurelen riding up. Their habit is to gate over a short distance from the castle and then ride up to keep an eye on things.

I dismounted and hugged the two women until Laurelen stepped back a moment.

“You look good,” I told Emma.

She did too, wearing a thick dress of forest green, a thick golden torque around her neck and a golden net holding her hair back. Laurelen was dressed similarly although her dress was lighter and floatier with a floral pattern.

Emma nodded and smiled. She was breathing deeply and evenly, it was an exercise that Dr Shani had taught her for when she needed to feel calm.

“Are you here for the negotiations with…?”

Emma nodded in gratitude, safer ground for all of us.

“Yes,” she said, “He wants to buy a couple of horse studs from our hunting horse stocks as well as some cattle studs.”

“Will we sell?” I wondered.

“Less than he wants, and not of the kind of things that he wants and he will give us more than he intends.” Emma said with relish.

I laughed at her excitement. It still makes me happy when she is so animated.

“Before I forget,” I went on. “Padraig tells me that there’s a merchant coming up who might be a spy. Intelligence is out to look at him but he might…”

“Who was it?” Emma wondered, instantly curious.

“I don’t know, Padraig and Intelligence are coordinating on the matter and I told Padraig to talk to you on the matter.”

“Interesting, what kind of questions are they asking?”

“Again…” I laughed. “Speak to Intelligence.”

She got a hungry look in her eyes.

“Oh I will,” she chuckled with relish. “Coming onto my lands and spying to find out things about us.”

I laughed with the two of them and Lauralen winked at me.

“Well I’d best be off.” I told them. “Mustn’t be late.”

“You’ve got plenty of time,” Laurelen told me as Emma paled and shut down.

“In my experience,” I told her, “saying things like that is how people run out of time so quickly.”

“That’s fair,” Laurelen agreed.

I waved to my sister and turned my horse to ride away.

“Freddie?” A small voice came. I did my best to hide the elation that voice caused me to feel.

“Yes?” I wondered of Emma as I turned back.

She took a couple of deep breaths and lifted her eyes to meet mine.

“Tell him to come home,” she told me. “Tell him that we miss him.”

I was unable to avoid looking past Emma at Laurelen’s face which was radiating triumph as she cheered silently with joy. It is still a big thing whenever Emma can talk about something that isn’t trade. But as agreed, I kept my face blank. Past experience has taught us that Emma doesn’t react well to congratulations when she takes these steps back into the world.

“I will tell him,” I told her. “Good luck with the trade deals.”

She nodded and I turned away, riding out of the castle and took to the road, following it East and West until I met the river road and followed it along.

It was going to be a beautiful day.

Very early on in my stewardship of the lands that I hold control over, I was told that, if I ever looked out over the fields of my domain and didn’t see something that I could improve in some way, then it was time to move on and retire. Hand over the control over my lands to someone else and just let them get on with it.

There was still a long way to go, there was no way to deny that, but I love my corner of the continent. I don’t get over to the Pontar Valley between Aedirn and Kaedwen as much as I would like and that is nearly always travelled to by way of a transport gate, but the problems of that area are not something that requires speedy decisions. They need time for the land to recover from the wars and the armies that have moved over it. It needs safety and security so that villagers and farmers are encouraged to resettle there. So that the dwarves don’t fear that whatever it is they mine is going to be stolen away from them by the state. The place needs security and I work hard to give it precisely that. But mostly, that involves patrols and the ruthless extermination of banditry and raids from jealous lords.

Ariadne is my ambassador to the Elves. I have still to meet Queen Francesca and according to Ariadne, that is unlikely to ever happen. Ariadne tells me that the Elves are pleased with my policies and the way that I treat the everyday people on my lands but there was still a long way to go before I could be trusted.

When I asked how long that would be Ariadne told me that it would involve several generations. Longer than I would live, even with her extending my lifespan.

I rode alongside the river for most of the morning. Stopping to buy some smoked fish from a small cottage along the way that I ate from the saddle. I found the road that I was looking for, properly marked according to some of my patrols and I turned further inland. The lands are doing well. Out in the fields I could see men working at the crops and I was pleased to see that the harvest looked as though it was going to be good this year. I had hoped that there would be no need for rationing over the winter and that maybe we would have some surplus in order to trade. But that was Emma’s department and I wouldn’t interfere with that. All these years later and she still terrifies me.

I stepped aside to let a shepherd herd a flock of sheep from one field to the other, tying my horse to a fence post and perching there as I watched. The shepherd tipped his hat to me in gratitude and I nodded back. Just one of those small interactions on the road.

He was not the only road user and that was something else I was pleased to see. Try as I might I am unable to keep the missionaries from coming into the lands. This man looked relatively harmless. He was smelly, his teeth were rotting and his cassock seemed to be made out of rotting sack cloth. He was followed by half a dozen women and a couple of sullen eyed men. They were singing hymns in a kind of call and response way and although he did so with a lot of gravity, my feeling was that he was largely making them up as he went.

I made a note of their position and rode on, cutting pieces off an apple and eating them.

I helped a peddler get his wagon out of a ditch. He told me that his horses had been struck by a priest who had hit the horse with their stick and had startled it into running off the road. I asked about the description and the peddler and his daughter looked a bit bemused when I said that I would take care of it.

I passed a couple of local wagons moving hay and various other things that just needed moving from place to place in a farmland community until I came upon what I wanted. A small patrol of riders wearing the black and Red of the first Northern Army of Nilfgaard. The Knight in charge recognised me and saluted crisply. I told him about the missionary and his little train of people and they rode off at speed.

I sniggered a little in imagining what was going to happen.

I made camp in a small copse of trees a good distance from the road. I could probably have found an inn or at worst, paid for a night on the floor of one of the farmer’s places if I could keep my identity from them long enough so that they wouldn’t sleep on the floor themselves.

The cares of the world seemed to fall from my shoulders as I set out my bed roll, dug a fire pit, groomed my horse and set food to cook. I did some training with the axe and the knife as well as some general exercises before settling down with a mug of tea to watch the sunset while my food cooked.

I felt good.

The stew was good and hearty, the bread was fresh from the castle ovens and I was sitting in the darkness, watching the fire burn, too tired to do anything else but not tired enough to fall asleep when I realised what I was missing.

Moving to my saddle bags I found what I was looking for, a sheaf of papers, something to write on, a couple of quills and an ink pot.

I always carry them with me. Just one of those habits that I just can’t set aside. Even on those excursions when I knew I was not going to get anything written, somehow, the shape of my bags seemed wrong in some way if I didn’t have the materials to write something in them. I would be left feeling uncomfortable.

I mean… I haven’t written anything outside either my studies or my duties for some time, but it made me laugh that Gauthier had packed them anyway. I really did need to be a bit easier on that boy.

I sharpened the quill, dipped it in the ink and started to scratch away. I’m sure that by now, you have guessed what I started to write. It came to me almost without thinking about it.

‘The scientific mind is a wonderful thing’.

So if all of this seems a bit confusing, out of order or otherwise existing without context, then that is why. I am several years out of practice when it comes to properly recording my thoughts and working through these matters with ink, quill and parchment.

I also know that it is well over two years now since there was last a missive in a paper under the title “A scholar’s travels with a Witcher” but here it is. Did you miss me?

I missed you. I don’t know if that is any recompense for the delay but it remains true nonetheless. I have missed you and I hope that you do not hate me too badly for the shape of the feelings that I left you. Please be reassured that things are much better now than they were when I last left you. But I am getting the story out of order again so now I will return to the narrative. Just…

If this all seems a bit… lacking in some of the qualities that you came to expect from previous situations, then I do apologise. Please bear with me… This article might even contain something of academic note. Or it might be a pair of articles. If there is one writing habit that I have been unable to get rid of, it is that I still like to waffle on about fuck all.

I made a whole bunch of notes, enjoying the feeling of scribbling something on paper that was resting on something. I remember it distinctly. I was leaning back against a tree with my legs stretched out in front of me. I was warm, cosy and a sense of rightness was in the air.

Then I stopped, listened for a moment and could not keep myself from smiling a little.

I worked for… maybe another hour before I put a whole bunch more wood on the fire to keep it going overnight and I lay down to sleep.

“Good night,” I whispered to Ariadne through our long renewed link. Even when we are apart physically, we make the effort. “I love you.” I told her.

As it used to, I got something of a sense of where she was and what she was doing. She was wearing a comfortable smock and was carefully wrapping glass-wear in thick, padded cloth. A woman happy at her work.

“I love you too,” she told me. “Sleep well.”

I did.

I was stiff in the morning. Not surprising really as I am always stiff the first time I wake up on the ground after a period of sleeping in beds. I set the fire going again to warm up some soldier’s tea and to heat some porridge before I did some stretches. Then I ran around the copse of trees with my axe on my back and dagger in my belt before doing some other weight training with the axe as the weight. Not ideal, but you take what you can get when you are away from proper training equipment. And even doing a little is better than doing none at all.

And proper training has saved my life, more times than I can count.

I ate, packed up my stuff and moved to rejoin the road.

It seemed to be busier that morning and I continued my habit of standing aside when I needed to stand aside for those travellers and users of my roads when they needed the extra space. It has no impact on my self esteem to let these people get on with what they needed to get on with.

I stopped for something to eat at a tavern that served me half a chicken, some cheese, apples, biscuits and a half a loaf with a small pot of butter. I paid the tavern keeper who looked at me suspiciously. I have seen this look several times now since taking over the Dukedom. He looked at me, looked at the ever present axe that was in its harness on my back with its unusual shape before looking back at me and my hard wearing clothes.

Then he looked at the axe again, then my face. Sometimes they figure out who I am but often they don’t. To them, a Duke travels with soldiers in rich clothes with beautiful women on his arm. He certainly doesn’t stop in villages for a mug of ale and a roast chicken.

He shook his head dismissively and I went to sit outside. Mostly to keep an eye on my horse and make sure that nothing was stolen but also so that I could watch the world go by.

The food had that quality of home cooking that is sometimes missing when you eat out of a castle kitchen and I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it.

I departed with as little fuss as I could, buying a thick steak for my dinner in the evening and nodding to a group of women that were examining me and gossiping about me behind raised hands. The mischief in me made me bow to a pretty woman that was walking down the road and winked at the child that had made the connection between my axe and who that meant I was.

I rode easily. I had plenty of time, my haste at the castle notwithstanding. But in my experience, time is saved by rising early and travelling until late. It is not saved by rushing around and bellowing for farmers and travellers to “make way”.

I helped a wagoneer reattach a wheel. I scooped a stray sheep back into a nearby field that held a flock with similar markings. I dismounted and glared at a group of young men who were bullying a girl and making her feel uncomfortable.

I found a similar camp-site off the road in a ruined house. The place was well known to me and I knew I would not be disturbed by any spirits or anything else that I needed to be worried about. I lit a fire, knowing it would be hidden from the road and took my time making camp and doing my exercises. When I was good and sure everything was as set up as I could want it. I went out into the darkness a short way and waited until my night vision had adapted.

“YOU CAN COME OUT,” I called. “I heard you last night, I saw the lookout on the road this morning and the crops were moving against the wind yesterday.”

I didn’t have to wait long before Carys emerged from the long grass. She was furious. Not with me, thank the flame. A dozen other men came out, dressed in leathers with bows, swords and quivers of arrows. All of them were Elves and camouflaged for moving through farm land.

She looked at me for a long time. I sighed and nodded before turning back to my fire to cook the steak that I had been looking forward to since I bought it. My evening’s entertainment was listening as she ripped metaphorical shreds off those Elves that had been seen “by a fucking d’hoine of all people” and then she stationed a few of them as look outs.

Then she came to sit nearby.

“You’re not angry?” she asked, her tone of voice as a challenge.

“No,” I told her. “I enjoyed the solitude though and I don’t get enough of it.”

“I will teach them to be more discreet although I sent one back to the castle in disgrace. He is not suitable for this work, I don’t care who his mother’s fucking.”

I nodded, swallowing my curiosity as I knew from past experience that she wouldn’t answer. She occasionally likes to leave little hints of gossip in my ear so that she can enjoy telling me that she doesn’t want to tell me. But now was not the time for our game, this was too important.

“You’re in charge of my security. I will leave it in your hands.” She nodded in satisfaction and added her own steak to the pan when I took mine off.

I made some notes on my thoughts for the day and went to sleep. That night, Ariadne and I spoke a bit about a book that she was reading. It was a daft romance novel that she was reading for inspiration. She wanted to write a book about the human concept of love, romance and sex and according to her, the matter required a lot of research. I teased her by wondering how much of a test subject I was and why the subject needed quite so much trashy, badly written research material.

She told me that the trashier it was, the better.

We told each other that we loved each other and I slept.

The next day went much the same as the first two had. I travelled a little harder that day that left my poor escort in a bit of a bind, but they didn’t have my moral objections to crossing fields with cattle in them. Nor did they have to limit themselves to routes that my horse could take. They made good time and although I was riding a little faster, I was not galloping so they could take their time.

I also stopped often, using Father’s old trick of stopping and talking to the farmers. People recognised me more often as the further I got away from Castle Coulthard, the less people were used to seeing me in all my finery and armour, riding amongst the guards and followed by palanquins and carriages. They could see the axe, see the symbols and just put the required facts together in order to get the required solution. One farmer told me that I needed to invest in proper irrigation and I told them that I was working on it. Followed by an explanation as to why we hadn’t got to his farm yet. He was both displeased at the delay but also astonished that I took the time to talk to him.

Another man told me that he was a little fed up with all the patrols around the place and still another told me that the state of the roads needed some repair.

I mean they did, but I had to bite off a glib response when pointing out that it was still much better than the mud tracks that they had been before I started my road building efforts.

A woman wanted to know when there was going to be a school built locally so that she could see to it that her darling little boy, who was hiding behind her skirts picking his nose, could get the education that his obvious intelligence deserved. Privately I thought that the child could do with some more time playing with his friends but I couldn’t really just tell her that.

Conversely, just a little bit further down the road, I was fair accosted by an older man who had seen my interaction with the woman and told me that I could keep my “damn learning” out of the minds of the local youngsters so that men like him could properly teach them what they needed to know.

“In this neck o’ the continen’, we don’ need le’ers to be able to plough a furrow,” he told me. And he might be right, but I countered by explaining that although that is true, learning letters would help the child to know that he is not being swindled by the merchant that comes to buy the grain, or the Imperial tax collector when they come to take the taxes.

He did point out that I was the one that came to take the grain… I mean, I’m not, I have people that do that kind of thing for me but I took his point. I told him that corruption happens to plenty of people and although I am doing my best, I couldn’t speak for all the people that work for me. I also told him that if he knew of any corruption or cruelty being committed in my name then he should come and see me.

He then asked how he would know that corruption was happening. To be honest, I don’t think he knew what the word meant. So I told him that he would know that if he learnt his letters and his sums. The locals who were nearby laughed at the joke and to be fair to the old man, he cracked a smile and admitted that I had got him there.

It was a good couple of days and as the miles rolled away underneath my horses feet and as the simple food settled into the pit of my belly, the cares of the world continued to melt away. Not for the first time, I resolved to do this kind of thing more often and also not for the first time, I wondered when I would find the time. Or if I would let myself do something like this if there wasn’t some kind of objective for me to travel towards.

I eventually came to the place of my objective late on the sixth day. It was one of those areas of the continent where the border between places is movable and the locals are not entirely certain as to who their lords are and so long as life is relatively quiet, they tend not to care as much either.

It was a nice little village. As I have written before, it is the kind of place that is not quite large enough to be noted down on any maps other than the detailed ones that are drawn up by locals and merchant caravans. It certainly wouldn’t be shown on any kind of military tactical map. It was a cluster of buildings at the bottom of a slope where a group of small paths and roads met. Whether the village was there before the roads or the roads migrated there because of the village I don’t know. What I do know was that it was a village that serviced many of the local farms and had a bit of a logging and tanning industry on the side.

The smells of such places need to be experienced to be believed. But as I rode in I could look up the slope that had been cleared and there were now people going through and pulling out the stumps of the previous felled trees with ropes and oxen in harness. There was a large inn with a tavern attached, a smithy, a cooper, a wheelwright and a saw mill. There was also a small chapel that I intended to go and pay my respects to later while I was there. The place was relatively quiet, or as quiet as such a place ever is.

It is worth remembering that a village like this one never really sleeps. Even though this was not a farming town and the men were probably out somewhere keeping up with the harvest, there was still plenty of work that needed doing. Roofs were being repaired and re-thatched. Furniture was being made and women gossiped while they continued the never-ending task of making sure there was enough wool to clothe them all over the winter. So the music of the saw and the hammer, with the odd discordant note of a hammer striking metal according to a rhythm of its own. As agreed, Carys and one of the other guards came into town with me while the rest of the escort went and camped in some woodland within the sound of a horn blast, but not so close or obviously that they would be seen from the village.

And they were forbidden from going anywhere near the Northern slopes on the road.

The innkeeper was expecting me and although he tried to let me have the rooms without charging me, I didn’t have to do much persuading to let me pay for the place to stay. I paid for three rooms, up front and with dinner, bed and breakfast for a week. I had no idea how long we were going to be here but I had allowed plenty of time.

After that chore was done, I met the man that had been assigned to watch the place by Intelligence who told me that what I was here for had not come to pass. Reports said that I could expect things to come to a head in the next couple of days. I nodded, gave the man a couple of crowns and told him to be about his regular duties. He promptly spent the coins on a full meal, a couple of ales and a night with one of the locals that was amenable to such things before riding off the following morning.

For me, I ordered a bath. Being back on the road felt good, but at the same time, it felt good to get that grime off me. I spent the evening sitting in the corner of the inn, playing cards with Carys and talking about the business of our lands while we ate, drank and watched the locals about their business.

It was a nice inn all things considered. Not the kind place that had much going for it, but what it did have, I liked. It puts its money into important things. The beds were of good quality, the food was simple but well cooked and the place was clean. The innkeeper had more sons than daughters and was apparently a widower. He was the cook of the place while his sons worked the bar and the stables. A couple of the local women helped out with the rooms and were occasionally happy to negotiate for their affections although such things never took place under the roof of the inn.

The innkeeper insisted on that.

There was a bar, several tables and an open area with a raised stage that was clearly meant for dancing although there was no music that night. I would like to write, for the sake of symmetry, that it reminded me of the village with the unicorn, but that would be unfair. There are hundreds of small villages like this in Coulthard lands alone. As representatives of that kind of village go, this one was as good as any other.

The following day, Carys and I got up to some hard training with the other guard that came with her. And when I say hard training, I mean it. The riding had kept me up with some other things but a horrible lethargy had sunk into my upper body and I was driven to dismiss it. So we worked in one of the side, fenced off areas. Well away from the Northern slopes and went through a number of the drills that we had all come up with during training. The three of us fought one on one, two on one and then all three of us against each other. The other elf didn’t like it as Carys made him fight without moving his legs. She told him that, like most elves, they have a tendency to depend on mobility and freedom of movement. But you can’t do that in a swamp, or when you’re enclosed with other soldiers, or when you are protecting someone…

Like a certain inept lord who was running through some of his own exercises nearby and was pretending not to listen. There were also sprints around the village, much to the bemusement of the locals and there were some local trees that could be used to do the more basic upper body exercises.

After that, I luxuriated in being a rich man in a place where money goes further by ordering another bath and paying the locals to do some laundry for me with far more money than they asked for before I explored for a bit. I chatted to the smith, the wheel-wright and the cooper although the fletcher and the thatcher were at their work and their workshops stood empty. I also went to pay my respects at the chapel. It was only a small place. I would imagine the village could get in there if they all just squeezed in and remained standing. There were some pews and I knelt before the fire and offered up my prayers there.

I was about half way through when one of the locals told me that the priest was shared between three villages and that he was not due to be in this village again for another three days. I asked some more questions of her and of some of the other locals that night, about whether or not they all felt as though this was a problem and they admitted that sometimes they feel left out. And that the priest is not around when they need him. When a man dies in an accident he needs to lay to rest sooner rather than later, or when the old Mother Gemple finally died, the priest was not at her bedside because he was dealing with something else, two villages over.

I told them that I would see about addressing the matter and made a note of it. I absolutely intend to do so as well. The comfort of having a local priest is not something that can easily be understood by those people that live closer to the civic centres where churches and priests are more numerous. A local priest can really help out a community. Even if he is not that active in the community. Just the spiritual security is enough to make it worthwhile.

I spent the evening writing a letter to the Arch-Bishop to explain this and to explain where the problem was taking place. It never does to offer problems without offering a solution to fix the problem so I wondered if there was some way of having a kind of… “under-priest” that could take care of the day to day business of a town and then having the actual priest reserved for weddings and funerals and things of that nature. I also wondered if it might be a good idea for some of the lay brothers, the men in monasteries, as to whether it might be a good idea to get them some experience working “in the field” as it were. The equivalent of an apprenticeship by any other name. I had no idea if that would get us anywhere but still

I rose a bit later the following morning.

If everything went according to plan, then I should expect something that day.

I have not improved at the skill of waiting. I still hate it and I still struggle to get by when it comes to that kind of thing. Intrusive images of waiting in woodlands for this or that disaster to take place, waiting for a signal or waiting for a word, a shout, or a horn call. It was, it is always, hard and I am not getting better at it at all, no matter how much I might try and pretend so.

What I am better at though, is filling the time so that I don’t have to think about it. I trained hard for a good few hours in the morning. Long after I probably should have stopped. Actually stopping only when my limbs were rubbery and there was grey at the edge of my vision. I took my horse out for a small trot around an empty paddock and gave her a thorough grooming. Reading or studying at such a time is all but impossible so I didn’t even try that. Fortunately though, my patience was rewarded.

Carys came to find me and stood in my eyeline and nodded before I examined the sky. It was mid afternoon by this point.

“It will not be today,” I told her. “It will be in the morning. Early enough to be dramatic, but not so early that no-one will see what is happening.”

She nodded.

“I will withdraw the scouts then,”

“Carys?” She turned back. “I do not enjoy being a wrathful lord, but if someone is seen or drives him off, then someone will answer for it.”

She took a moment to weigh the words before squaring herself up to me.

“Yes My Lord,” she said. She is better at recognising an order when I give it now. Far better than she used to be. But then again, I am far better at giving orders than I used to be.

I knew what would happen anyway. If someone did give the game away then I would not hear about who it was. Carys would turn up and take all the blame for it upon herself. I would yell, she would be contrite and promise to do better. The piece of theatre would happen in front of the other guards so that they could all see me being angry and could also all see her taking the blame for their ineptitude. Then quietly, those guards would police themselves. The following day, one guard would have left to join an old unit or find another way to be useful while another person would have taken their place. That is the way the world works.

I also knew that if Carys deliberately drove the matter home on her own behalf, then the piece of theatre would happen behind closed doors. The thought had occured before now, but I didn’t think that this would be the case this time.

I squashed the desire to go out there and find the camp that I knew, even now, was being erected. I could probably even picture the group of trees that would be used to hide the camp.

I finished doing what I was doing. I think, by that point, I was on to cleaning my travelling armour. A chore that I do not leave to squires. At one point, I wanted to clean my own battlefield armour but the process was so long and involved that Padraig came and forcibly took it off me, telling me that I was neglecting other duties. And that this, after all, was what squires were invented for.

But the battlefield armour was probably in a wagon somewhere, possibly already on the roads to Angral.

But I was done now. I went back to the inn and feeling that weight off my shoulders, I pulled out a book and a scrap of parchment and made some notes on what I was reading. I ate dinner, made some of my own notes, the basis of which would become what you now hold in your hands and had an early night.

Ariadne was a calming presence that night. She did not come through a teleport gate but she talked about the business of the day and about how she had dined with Emma and Laurelen. There was a conversation about Emma showing some signs of improvement again and that her meetings had gone well. Tomorrow was the bulk of the loading of Ariadne’s lab and equipment and although there was nothing that she could do to make it more secure, she has found that if she stays to watch the loading of it all, she tends to fret. So she was going to Aretuza to visit with Margarita and deliver a few lectures of the history of magic from before the landing.

She lulled me into sleep so that in the morning I could feel refreshed.

And I did.

I have developed the soldier’s practice of sleep. It sometimes takes me some time to get there but once I’m asleep, I’m asleep. Ariadne claims that I sleep lighter than she would like but she will take what she can get. I rose early, did some morning exercises, only light ones this time though as my muscles were punishing me for the abuse that I had put them through the previous day. I ate a large breakfast with Carys where we made some small conversation about some changes that she wanted to make to the security of the Angral residence when I heard a cat hiss.

It was always the cats that noticed him first. I remember he made the joke that monsters recognise monsters when it first happened and followed that up with the joke that, despite cats not liking him, he quite liked cats. He said that it was an important moral lesson to learn that something so small, cute and furry can also be evil incarnated on our mortal plane.

Carys reacted first and looked over my shoulder to the Northern slope. The slope where even now, workmen were heading out with heavy oxen and even heavier ropes and hooks to pull the stubborn stumps from the ground. My eyes followed the Northern road up the slope where it wound round some of the older stumps until I found him.

“Holy Flame,” I breathed, almost like a prayer, “I had forgotten.”

He was standing there, just off the path, on the back of his horse. His long coat over his shoulders so that it hung down the back of his horse. His sword harness and the buckles that came with it seemed to glitter in the early morning sunlight. The morning mist drifted around the horse’s hooves and with the two swords over his shoulder and the strong, steady and calm way that he seemed to stare down at the village. It seemed to me that he was the figure of legend.

I have seen that sight more times than I can count. I have stood next to him when he has been waiting on the edge of a village to see if this time someone has a job for him or if children are going to be encouraged to throw handfuls of dung to frighten him off. I have watched his return when he has manipulated events so that he can seem even more magnificent than he actually is. I have seen the long hours of preparation that it takes to make him into this, the Witcher from the legends and the story books.

And no matter how often I have seen it, it still sends a shiver down my spine. I have written before that I sometimes regret that my talents do not go towards the medium of paints and oils. I can sketch small things. Flowers and small animals. But I cannot capture the majesty of certain situations and it must also be admitted that if there is a skill of mine that I have neglected, then it is that one.

I have wanted to capture so many images over the course of my journeys. There are other ones as well, images that have occured in the time since I stopped travelling and writing. But this one was the first one and it is possibly the most important one. It is a sight that is becoming rarer by the day and if our plans regarding the future of the Witcher schools would come to pass, it is also true that eventually, this image will disappear from living memory.

The Witcher on the edge of the village.

“Right then,” I whispered. “Here we go.”

I rose from my seat and pulled my own armoured coat on. Only now did I see that I had mirrored my coat to that of a Witcher’s coat. Some men have called me the Witcher Duke and I have never liked that name, but only now did I admit that there might be more truth to the nickname than I would like to admit.

I slung my axe over my shoulder as a force of habit and then took out the long thin leather package. From it I took the two old parts of my old spear. I had cleaned, sharpened and oiled it before setting out and it slid out freely. For a moment, my heart soared as I held onto the familiar metal with my right hand. But again, for the first time in a long time, my left hand felt clumsy and ugly. I had to concentrate to fit the two pieces together in a movement that I have practised and practised and used to be able to do in my sleep. But now…

I got the two attached and walked out from the village. My axe feels comfortable slung on my back now and I no longer need to hold it in place. It is the spear that feels wrong and much though I am used to this feeling. I am, once again, left saddened by this loss of so faithful a friend.

I moved just past the last house. More people had seen him now, standing his horse and more than one child was scolded in getting back to work. The lumberjacks were studiously ignoring him.

I found a good solid place to stand and slowly raised the spear above my head, holding it horizontally so that the Witcher could see it.

We stood like that for a minute or two, long enough for my arms to start to ache and for me to be glad for all the work I have done in building up my arm strength.

I watched as the Witcher turned his head away and down. I recognised that stance, he was thinking. Time seemed to stretch before he flicked his reins and the horse started to move down towards the village.

He took his sweet ass time to get down the slope too. I gave up and tried to lean on the spear as I used to before I remembered that it would feel wrong and instead took it apart and put it back in its sheath which I slung on my other shoulder from where my axe harness lives.

He was watching me as he came and I stood, as relaxed as I could manage. I had an overwhelming confusion as to what I should do with my hands. Tuck them in my belt? Hold onto a strap? I felt uncomfortable.

He threw the reins of the horse over a stump and came to stand in front of me.

“Freddie,” he said, neutrally.

“Kerrass,” I said, as neutrally as I could manage.

There was a pause as the two of us examined each other.

He looked different. There were a few less strain lines in his face which looked a little fuller than I seemed to remember him being. He had also cut his hair at some point although there were signs that he was trying to grow it back. It was long and tufty on the top while the back and sides were cut short. He had made some efforts to tie the top-hair into a knot in a style that I understand is called “Elven style” but it was not quite long enough. This meant that he was also wearing a leather band around his head to keep the hair out of his eyes.

There was some other new equipment but the swords remained the same. I saw the silver symbol of the wave-serpent on the hilt of his silver sword and suppressed a smile.

He took a couple of deep breaths.

“I take it that this means there’s no monster contract for me here?” His tone was dry. I judged it to be a little bit bemused, or annoyed. I was out of practice at reading his emotions.

“There is actually,” I answered, scratching my chin. “There’s a ghoul nest just over the hill.” I turned and gestured. “I have someone keeping an eye on it. Three or four above ground and a couple of emergence sites.”

Kerrass nodded in thought.

“So… nine or ten?”

“That’s what I thought.”

He nodded.

I don’t know who started to laugh first, or who moved first but suddenly we were both laughing and both of us moved forwards into a hug.

He pulled back first to properly examine me now that he was up close and personal.

“You look good,” he decided after a moment.

“So do you,” I told him and I meant it. He looked… more relaxed, more comfortable. He was openly grinning too which was new, his laughter seemed that bit freer than I had ever heard it before, as though it was easier to be spontaneous and more able to relax. He looked… almost happy.

He pulled me in for another hard hug.

“Look at you,” he said, “two hands again and some actual muscle mass now. You will have to tell me how you managed that and who trained it into you. Because try as I might, I never…”

He stopped and shook his head, still grinning at me.

“That’s a lot,” I told him, unable to keep from answering his grin. I was surprised at just how good it was to see him. “Beer?”

“Goddess yes, and a lot of it.”

“I’ve booked you a room,” I told him as we turned towards the inn.

“And a bath?” He asked hopefully.

“There’s a bathouse out back.” I laughed.

“Thank the Goddess for that. I smell like feet.”

We both laughed at that and I saw him examining the axe on my back.

“Freddie, I have so much to say and so much to ask, but how did you find me?”

I laughed at him, properly at him this time and I saw that fact register in his face.

“Ah Kerrass, this is one of those things that we both have to get used to now. In the North of the Continent, Imperial Intelligence works for me. I knew where you were two days after you left us.”

He stared at me in horror about that for a moment before amusement returned.

“And you didn’t come after me?”

“No, I did consider it, sending people after you. At first I didn’t because I was angry. Later I didn’t because I was sad and later still I didn’t because Lord Geralt advised me not to.”

He nodded.

“That makes a lot of sense. And was that Carys that I saw going back inside the inn?”

“It was,”

“Does she still hate me?”

“Hate is a strong word,” I told him. “There are many complicated thoughts and feelings about you around the place and she is one of those…”

He put his hand on my arm to stop me and I turned to look at him.

He looked me in the eyes for a long moment.

“She was right to be angry,” he told me. “I have had a lot of time to think over the last couple of years and a lot has happened, to both of us it seems, and I am desperate to catch up and find out why you have the axe of Gardan on your back rather than your spear. And I can only guess at how desperate you are to ask me questions and things. But I want to say this first and I want it to be here, before we start drinking so that you will know that I mean it.”

“Alright?”

I kind of squared myself up to him.

He looked at me for a long moment.

“I did you wrong Freddie, you and yours and the people around you. I should have been there to support you, to grieve with you and to get you drunk when you needed to get drunk and I wasn’t. I would like to renew our friendship and I know that as part of that, I owe many people apologies for what I did and didn’t do. Your sister, Ariadne, Padraig and yes, Carys is one of them…”

“Kerrass it’s alright… But for all the affection that I hold for you, and I hope that you know that I still love you like a brother, but exactly like a brother, I kind of want to kick your ass.”

A flash of the old Kerrass was in his eyes for a moment but I was not the weaker, cowed scholar that had a habit of obedience with this man any more.

“You have apologised to me before,” I told him. “You have had your little self-pitying periods before and you have apologised and told me, and others that it would never happen again. Well it happened again Kerrass. And again. And at a moment when I needed you the most, it happened again.”

I took a deep breath, there was the ghost of old anger in my voice and I could hear it. But it was old anger too and I knew that as well.

“I suppose what I’m saying Kerrass is… Don’t make promises that you can’t keep.”

It was Kerrass’ turn to take some deep breaths.

“I deserved that,” he began. “I deserved every word that you just said. I know that I have made you promises before. I know that I have apologised for my crappy behaviour before and sooner or later, I have always gone back on what I have said and what I have promised. And although I can tolerate the blank looks and distrusting eyes from others, I will apologise and prostrate myself before them and say whatever it is that they need to hear, and mean those words too. But to you, I will not apologise.”

I looked in his eyes and tried to see what he was thinking, trying to guess where he was going with this. I didn’t know whether to be angry, sad or to tell him to fuck off. I decided that I didn’t have enough information.

“Where are you going with this Kerrass?”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“Over the last couple of years, I have realised that words are empty and verbal promises are too easily given and too easily broken. We… meaning I, give apologies and just assume that a simple apology is enough and that we can go back to normal.”

He grinned again.

“Believe me, I have a whole philosophical discourse of examples where we offer people empty words to make ourselves feel better more than the people that we are trying to help. Empty words like ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or ‘Let us know if there is anything we can do,’ or one that I am confident you will share… ‘I know how you feel’.”

I chuckled.

“You are right, I hate that one.”

He joined me in a short laugh.

“But you, I will not make empty apologies and fill your ears with empty words. I will, instead, show you how important you are to me and show you how sorry I am.”

I nodded.

The words hung in the air for a moment.

“You’ve been practising that speech haven’t you?”

“A little bit, speaking into camp fires since I came down from the North.”

I took a moment to think about what he said. I had come here absolutely intending to forgive Kerrass for everything unconditionally. But now that I am here, I realise that things are not that simple.

“I cannot…” I took a moment to clear my throat. “I cannot just forgive everything Kerrass. I can’t forgive everything and just go back to the way we were. I came here to see you and to talk to you and I hoped… But I just can’t go back to what was.”

“I don’t expect you to,”

I waved him off.

“Apart from anything else, I am not the man I was. It has been a hell of a two and a half years.”

“So I’ve heard. Battles and things where you single handedly took on a company of Cidaris soldiers,”

I sighed.

“It was four men. FOUR MEN. How many times do I have to…”

“And the Wyvern?”

“A knight with a Wyvern on his shield, but Kerrass…”

I forced the tone back towards serious.

“I am not as angry as I was,” I told him. “Nor as hurt, but I would be lying to you if I said that anger and hurt was gone. I told you that I love you like a brother Kerrass and I meant it, but you remember what a couple of my brothers were like?”

“I remember,” he said softly.

“I still love you like a brother, even after everything you said and did, but I cannot go back to the way that we were. What I can do is offer the hand of friendship and a new beginning? It’s what I came here to do. And we will see how life takes us from there.”

“I would like that Freddie, I really would.”

He offered me his hand and I took it and pulled him into a fierce hug.

“I’ve missed you Kerrass.”

“I’ve missed you too… Brother.”

We pulled apart and I needed to turn away for a moment and I heard Kerrass clear his throat a couple of times.

“So,” he began before clearing his throat again. “You mentioned something about beer? Now that part is over, I have the sudden urge to start drinking heavily.”

We both laughed in relief and went into the inn.

We found a table and a set of chairs towards the back. One of the Innkeeper’s sons brought over a large jug and a couple of mugs. I told Kerrass to pour one for both of us and I went to get my things which I put on the chair beside me.

“Good beer this,” Kerrass decided, pouring himself a second mug and having a look around. “Seems like a fairly good place,”

He looked at me suspiciously.

“Is this the place where we met, I would have thought I would have recognised it.”

“It is not,”

“It’s just, I thought… you being you, you might like that for the whole symmetry of the matter. Lure me into the area by means of a monster contract and then spring it on me as some kind of surprise.”

“That idea is much better than mine,” I told him. “I knew that you were coming south again and what route you were taking. I put some notices around and I knew that you would follow them as the monster population is pretty low around here nowadays.”

“I understand that the land is being looked after by someone that knows what they’re doing,”

“Thank you,” I answered.

He toasted me with his mug.

“But no,” I went on. “That particular inn was torn down and the site for it is a little way further East of here. It was a victim of Emma’s mercantile efficiency which meant that they just weren’t as busy as they wanted to be, or needed to be. One of the problems was a new inn that was erected less than a mile away and the landlord’s regular clientele would make the trek there for the better beer and the better atmosphere.”

“Ha,” Kerrass replied. “He really did hate me that one,”

“Must have been because you slept with his wife,” I replied.

“And his daughter,” Kerrass agreed. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “Have you kept up with any of the other places we visited?”

“Not as many as I would like. The town with Tom the troll is doing well now that the spoiled daughter is out of the way. They’re not saving for a dowry any more and it would seem that my work has caused a bit of a tourist trade. Tom has a grave now and according to what I’ve been told, Greta the troll is up in the hills again with her little one. She’s not as trusting of humans any more but a few of them help her out.”

“Good,” Kerrass agreed.

“Amber’s Crossing doesn’t exist anymore,” I told him. “I went back once when part of a delegation heading south. It was much smaller than I remember. I remember the trees having this kind of sinister feel about the place and a weight to the air. Now there’s just a few abandoned old buildings and I could have ridden around the woodland in a little over a day.”

“Such is the way with such places. The presence of the thing, whether it be a forest spirit or something else… The absence of power kind of deflates the place. What happened?”

“Not much, the people suddenly revelled in their freedom and fucked off. There is still a timber site in the woods but that’s run out of a camp closer to the other towns.”

Kerrass nodded.

“I don’t have much to do with Lyria and Rivia so I can’t tell you what’s going on around the site of the Flaming swords. I do know that the old library of Pula, Saffron and Sally is now as recovered as it can be. They have it up at Aretuza now and they still work on getting as much out of it as they can. Apparently, just when they think they have it all out, some student figures out a new way to read… whatever off the burn ashes.”

A shadow crossed Kerrass’ face.

“Good, I am… pleased.”

I nodded in acceptance of that.

“According to Samantha, the unicorn village is still there, just a few houses are occupied now and other villages have raided it for salvage. There’s a farming village a day north that keeps going south and steals timber. Other than that… Skellige and Toussaint remain Skellige and Toussaint…” I chuckled as a thought occured to me. “Try as I might, I can’t find the place where we fought the Nekkers. It’s not on any map and I’ve had people trying to find that blacksmith girl so that I can give her a better job. People regularly ask to examine the spear that she made for me and are impressed with her work but damned if I can find the place.”

Kerrass laughed. “Nor could I, such is the way with such villages,” he told me. “But that leads me onto…”

“The change to the axe?”

Kerrass nodded.