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Lady of the Lake Page 8


  ‘Wait a minute,’ interrupted Reynart and with a movement of his head indicated the across the taproom. ‘We have some interest heading towards us. Ha, not one but two vineyards. Our Customer Malatesta is bringing his neighbor… and competitor. Wonder of wonders!’

  ‘Who is the second?’

  Pomerol vineyards. From there comes the Cote de Blessure, the wine that we just drank.’

  Malatesta, Vermentino’s vineyard administrator, waved his arms and rushed over to them. The man he was leading had lush black hair and a black moustache, like an outlaw rather than an honorable citizen.

  ‘Allow me, gentlemen,’ Malatesta said. ‘Mister Alcides Fierabras, Pomerol vineyard administrator.’

  ‘Sit down, please.’

  ‘Just a minute. Mister Witcher about the monster from our cellars. By the fact that you are here, I assume the beast is slain. Am I correct?’

  ‘Quite dead.’

  ‘The agreed upon sum,’ Malatesta assured him, ‘will be paid to your account with G later today. Thank you very much, Mister Witcher. Very few large wineries can boast such a large cellar, deep and spacious, bearing to the north, neither too dry nor too wet – just perfect for wine. It was a shame that it could not be used. Did you see for yourself the part of the cellar when the monster managed to crawl through? The devil knows from where… Probably straight out of hell…’

  ‘The caves in volcanic tuffs often serve as havens for various monsters.’ Reynart instructed importantly. He had accompanied the witcher for more than a month and was a good listener and learned things. ‘Sure enough, where there is a tuff, you’ll find a monster.’

  ‘Maybe the tuff,’ Malatesta squinted at him. ‘But people say it’s because our basement connects with deep caverns that lead into the heart of the country. Such caves are numerous in this country…’

  ‘You don’t have to look far,’ said the bearded Pomerol. ‘Also under our cellars are corridors that stretch for miles and nobody knows where they end. Those who went to explore never returned. And there have been seen terrible monsters. So I would ask…’

  ‘I can guess,’ said the witcher, ‘what you would ask. I accept. I will examine your cellars. My fee is determined in accordance with this and what I come across.’

  ‘You will not regret it,’ said the bearded man. ‘Uh, uh, uh… One more thing…’

  ‘Speak. I’m listening.’

  ‘The succubus that haunts the nights and torments men… The one that the enlightened Duchess has ordered you to kill… I think there is no requirement to kill her. She bothers no one, to tell the truth… Oh, sometimes we will visit when drunk…to sometimes just try a little…’

  ‘But only the adults,’ Malatesta added quickly.

  ‘I had it on the tip of my tongue, neighbor. As I said, the succubus harms no one. And lately even appears to be frightened of you Mister Witcher. So why pursue her? After all, you do not need the cash. But if you are offended…’

  ‘You could help my account with Cianfanelli,’ Geralt said with a straight face. ‘A witcher pension fund.’

  ‘So be it.’

  ‘The succubus’s blond head will not fall.’

  ‘And farewell,’ both of the vineyard administrators stood up. ‘We will leave you in peace and not disturb you. This is a day of festival. A tradition. And here in Toussaint a tradition is…’

  ‘I know,’ said Geralt. ‘Holy.”

  The company at the next table should loudly with joy at a new divination, which was made by using a ball of pie dough and the bones of a fish. Drinking at the same time, the innkeeper and the wenches bustled about running with jugs.

  ‘The famous succubus,’ Reynart said scoping more cabbage into his dish, ‘was one of the first of the witcher contracts you accepted when you came to Toussaint. After that everything move so fast and you couldn’t get rid of customers. The funny thing is I do not remember which of the wineries gave you your first assignment…’

  ‘You were not there. I happened the second day after the audience with the Duchess. The audience where you were not needed.’

  ‘It’s no wonder. It was a private audience.’

  ‘Private,’ spluttered Geralt. ‘It was attended by about twenty people. And that is not counting the footmen who were motionless as statues, pages, young children and a boring clown. Among those that I counted, were Le Goff, the chamberlain who would rather be a confectioner. There were several nobles bending under the weight of gold chains. There were a few cronies in black, councilors, maybe judges. There was baron with a bull’s head coat of arms from Caed Myrkvid. And Fringilla, of course, who is obviously close to your duchess. And there was our bunch, including Milva in male attire. Oh, we were poorly expressed. It was not our whole group, we were missing Dandelion. Dandelion or rather Viscount Julian was lounging in a chair beside Duchess Anarietta and strutted like a peacock. A royal favorite. Only Anarietta, Fringilla and Dandelion sat. No one else was allowed to sit. Even so, I was glad we did not have to kneel. The Duchess listened to me very intently, but fortunately she jumped only a few times during my talk. When I finally briefly recounted my conversation with the flaminica, she anxiously wrung her hands. The gesture was as sincere as it was exaggerated. It probably sounds like an absurd contradiction in terms, but trust me, Reynart, it was precisely so.’

  ‘Oh, oh, oh,’ sighed the Duchess Anna Henrietta, wringing her hands. ‘Your story distresses me, Mister Geralt. It seizes my heart with sadness.’

  She sniffled her nose and reached out her hand, Dandelion at once placed a cambric handkerchief embroidered with a monogram into it. The Duchess touched the handkerchief lightly to her cheeks, so as not to remove her makeup.

  ‘Oh, oh,’ she repeated. ‘So the druids know nothing of Ciri? Were they not able to offer help? Were all your efforts in vain as the outcome of your journey?’

  ‘Surely not in vain,’ he answered. ‘I recognize that I did not get any concrete information from the druids or any clues, albeit only the most vague, to explain why Ciri had become the object of such fierce persecution. The druids, however, could not or would not help. In that case, I really did not learn anything new, but…’

  He paused for a moment. Not to be dramatic, but just to wonder if he could speak frankly in from of the whole gathering.

  ‘I know Ciri lives,’ he said dryly. ‘Probably was injured. And is still in danger. But she lives.’

  Anna Henrietta sighed again and took the handkerchief from Dandelion again.

  ‘I promise you our help and support,’ she said. ‘Stay in Toussaint as long as you wish. You should know that I used to visit Cintra, I knew and cultivated a friendship with Pavetta and knew and loved little Ciri. I am with you wholeheartedly, Mister Geralt. If necessary, you will have the assistance of our scholars and sorcerers. The doors of our library and bookstores are open to you. I believe that we can find some clue, some sign or indication to point you on the right track. Do not act hastily. You need not hasten. You can stay here as a welcome guest as long as necessary.’

  ‘I thank you for your kindness and grace,’ Geralt bowed. ‘However, we must continue on the road. Ciri is still in danger. And we are also in danger. When we stop for too long in one place, the danger not only grows, but begins to threaten the people around us. I will not allow this.’

  The Duchess was silent for a while, stroking Dandelion’s forearm with a rhythmic movement, like a cat.

  ‘Your words are noble and honest. But you do not have to worry here. The villains that stalked you were crushed by my knighthood, so that none escape, so I have been briefed by Viscount Julian. And one who dares cross your path better be careful. You are under my protection.’

  ‘I appreciate that,’ Geralt swept another bow, and cursed his sore knee in spirit, and not just his knee. ‘However, I must not conceal what Viscount Dandelion has forgotten to tell you. The rogues who chased me to Belhaven and the one that the brave knights beat in Caed Myrkvid, were indeed rogues from the guild of il
lustrious rogues, but also wore the color of Nilfgaard.’

  ‘And what of it?’

  ‘Well, this was the tip of the force of Nilfgaardians that conquered Aedirn in twenty days, and they could do the same to you Duchy in twenty minutes.’

  ‘It is a war,’ he insisted. ‘What happened in the woods of Caed Myrkvid and Belhaven maybe regarded as rebellion and disruption to the rear of the imperial troops. Something like that usually causes repression. In a state of war…’

  ‘The war,’ interrupted the Duchess, lifting her nose in the air, ‘has undoubtedly been revoked. I wrote of this matter to my cousin Emhyr var Emreis. In my letter, I asked him firmly to stop the senseless bloodshed. The war has ended and there has definitely been a peace agreement.’

  ‘Not so,’ Geralt said calmly. ‘Across the Yaruga roam sword and fire, blood is being spilled. There is no indication that the war was to end. Rather the opposite.’

  He immediately regretted what he said.

  ‘How is this possible?’ the Duchess’s nose lifted even higher, her voice became harsh. ‘Did I hear right? The war continues? Why were we not told about this? Minister Tremblay?’

  ‘Excellency, I…’ one if the nobles in gold chains fell to his knees. ‘I did not want to worry… Upset… Highness…’

  ‘Guards,’ she screamed. ‘To the tower with him! You’re fallen out of favor Mister Tremblay! In disgrace! Lord Chamberlain! Mister Secretary!’

  ‘At your orders, Your grace…’

  ‘Have our foreign minister immediately send a note to our cousin, the Emperor of Nilfgaard. We demand that he immediately, immediately cease fighting and sign for peace. For war and discord are bad things! Discord ruins strength and harmony!’

  ‘Your truth has clarity’ said the Chamberlain. So far he smelled like powdered sugar, now his face took on its color.

  ‘What are you still doing here, gentlemen? I have issued an order. No go, act!’

  Geralt looked around discreetly. The noble and officials maintained their stone faces, similar incidents like this were nothing new at court. He decided from now on he was just going to agree with the Duchess.

  Anarietta took the handkerchief and touch the tip of her nose with it and smiled at Geralt.

  ‘As you can see,’ she said. ‘Your fears were in vain. You have nothing to fear and can stay here as long as you want.’

  ‘Yes, Your Excellency.’

  In the silence you could clearly hear the worms chewing wood in the antique furniture. And the curse of one of the groom in the far courtyard dealing with a horse.

  ‘We would also like to ask you something, Mister Geralt,’ Anarietta interrupted the silence. ‘Since you are a witcher.’

  ‘At your service, Your Excellency.’

  ‘It is a plea from the many of the virtuous ladies of Toussaint. A nightmare is troubling their homes. A spirit, a demon in female form, a succubus, so shameless that we dare not describe her, tortures faithful and virtuous spouses. She enters the bedrooms at night and makes all kinds of knavery and abominable perversion that our modesty forbids us to speak of. You as an expert, certainly know what it is.’

  ‘Yes, Your Excellency.’

  ‘The women on Toussaint ask that you put an end to this indecency. And I assure you our infinite gratitude.’

  ‘Thank you for your confidence, Your Excellency.’

  Angouleme found the witcher and the vampire in the castle park; both were enjoying a walk and a quiet conversation.

  ‘You will not believe,’ she said. ‘You will not believe what I have to tell you. But it is the pure truth…’

  ‘Speak.’

  ‘Reynart de Boris-Fresnes, the Checkerboard knight, in addition to other knights, are in line at the county treasurer’s chamber. And you know what for? To collect his pay for this month! The line, is at least half an archery field long and there are so many tabards, the eyes get tired. When I asked Reynart about it he said that a knight-errant shouldn’t starve.’

  ‘What is so strange in all this?’

  ‘Are you kidding! A man becomes a knight for a noble calling! Not for a monthly salary!’

  ‘One does not exclude the other,’ Regis said seriously. ‘Trust me, Angouleme.’

  ‘Trust him, Angouleme,’ Geralt said drily. ‘Stop running around the castle in search of sensation, go keep Milva company. She is in a terrible mood and should not be left alone.’

  ‘Right. Auntie has her period and because of it is more angry than a wasp. I think…’

  ‘Angouleme!’

  ‘I’m going, I’m going.’

  Regis and Geralt stopped before a bed of slightly wilted Centifolias. Yet they were unable to continue their conversation. From behind a greenhouse emerged a man dressed in an elegant coat of sienna.

  ‘Good morning,’ he bowed and wiped his knee with his biretta. ‘Can I ask which of you gentlemen, praise be, is the witcher named Geralt, famous in his trade?’

  ‘I am’

  ‘My name is Jean Catillon, I am the steward of the Castel Toricella vineyards. The thing is that we could use a witcher in the cellars. I wanted to inquire if you were willing to…’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Well,’ began Catillon, ‘because of this damn war, merchants rarely come, so inventories increase, and there are no new places in the cellars for the new barrels. We thought that the various caves and tunnels below the castle which are said to stretch across our country could be expanded. We found a suitable cave – large, vaulted, neither too wet or dry, it would have been good for the wine...’

  ‘So what?’ the witcher could not stand it.

  ‘It appears that there is a monster prowling in the cave. It burned two people, reducing one to bones and the other one was left blind, sir, the monster spits or vomits some kind of caustic lye or something…’

  ‘A solpuga,’ said Geralt. ‘Also called a venenosera.’

  ‘Here,’ smiled Regis. ‘You can see for yourself, Sir Catillon that you are dealing with a professional. A professional, it seems who has fallen from heaven. And have you asked for help from the famous local knights? The Duchess has a whole regiment of them and this is precisely their kind of mission, their reason for being.’

  ‘That is not their reason,’ Steward Catillon shook his head. ‘Their reason is to protect the highways, routes and passes, because if the merchants don’t reach here, we would soon be broke. In addition, our knights are brave and warlike – but only on horseback. They wouldn’t go underground for anything. And plus they are expensive…’

  He stopped and was silent. He had the look of a man who wanted to spit but couldn’t. And a look of regret.

  ‘They are expensive,’ Geralt finished for him, but not particularly scathing. ‘Take note, my good man that I am even more expensive. It’s a competitive market. But if we have a contract, I’ll dismount from my horse and go underground. Think about it, but do not think about it too long, because I will not be in Toussaint long.’

  ‘You surprise me,’ Regis said, as soon as the steward had walked away. ‘Has the witcher in you suddenly been revived? Do you accept the contract? Are you going to hunt the monster?’

  ‘I too am surprised,’ Geralt admitted frankly. ‘I reacted unconsciously, impulsively. Somehow I felt pulled to it. But a bid can be rejected as too low. Let’s get back to our conversation.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Regis said looking over his shoulder. ‘Something tells me that you’re about to have more business.’

  Geralt cursed under his breath. On a path lined with cypress, two knights were walking towards them. He instantly recognized the first one; the enormous bull’s head on a field of white snow could not be confused with any other shield. The second knight, tall, grey, with nobly angular features, like they were carved from granite, had a cross with golden lilies on a blue background. Stopping at the prescribed distance of two steps, the knights bowed. Geralt and Regis bowed back; the four of them remained in orderly silence by the traditi
on of chivalry for the count of ten heartbeats.

  ‘Allow me, gentlemen,’ said the man with the bull’s head shield, ‘to introduce, Baron Palmerin de Launfal. And I, as you can remember am called…’

  ‘Baron de Peyrac-Peyran. As if it was possible to forget.’

  ‘We have a case for the witcher,’ said Baron de Peyrac-Peyran. ‘Relative, so to speak, to his professional work.’

  ‘Speak.’

  ‘In private.’

  ‘I have no secrets from Mister Regis.’

  ‘But the noble lords have them,’ the vampire smiled. ‘Therefore, if I may, I will take a look at that beautiful pavilion, which is probably a secluded toilet. Lord de Peyrac-Peyran… Lord de Launfal…’

  Bows were exchanged.

  ‘I’m listening,’ Geralt broke the silence without thinking for a moment about waiting ten heartbeats.

  ‘It’s,’ Peyrac-Peyran lowered his voice and looked around fearfully, ‘the succubus… The spirit that haunts the night. The Duchess and ladies have asked you to destroy. May I ask how much you have been promised to kill the monster?’

  ‘I’m sorry, gentlemen, but it is a professional secret.’

  ‘We understand, we understand,’ said the knight with the cross of lilies. ‘It is clear that we are dealing with an honorable man. Verily, I fear that such a man will find insult with our proposal, but I must give it. Renounce this contract, Sir Witcher. Please leave the succubus alone. We will not say anything to the Duchess and the ladies. And on my honor, we men of Toussaint, will exceed the amount of the ladies. You would be amazed by our generosity.’

  ‘Your proposal,’ said the witcher in a cold voice, ‘is in fact not too far from an insult.’

  ‘Mister Geralt,’ Palmerin de Launfal’s face was hard and serious. ‘I’ll tell you what we dare to propose. Ergo, there is a rumor about you. Saying that you only kill those monsters that are a threat. A real threat. Not from imagination, or from ignorance or prejudice. Let me tell you that the succubus does not threaten or harm anyone. Oh, she visits sleeping men… from time to time… And mortifies a little…’