The morning light was barely creeping over the horizon when Geralt left his room carrying his meager belongings. He intended to replenish his food supplies and be on his way before sunrise. After a good night's sleep the meeting from the previous evening felt distant, the memory of it as hazy as the recollection of events after a night of drinking. Thus presently he barely understood why he gave any second thoughts to the young woman's proposition. She could not possibly be as good as he remembered.
He got his answer a moment later when he reached the bottom of the stairs and was greeted by the sight of her looking eagerly up at him from her seat at a table covered with an ample spread of food. The smell of freshly baked bread, the dancing flames in the huge fireplace, and her slender silhouette in the warm light were utterly inviting.
"Good morning Geralt." Her crystalline voice resounded in the large and otherwise empty room. "You weren't thinking about sneaking out on me, were you?" she asked playfully.
"That's why you're up so early?" He approached with a steady, prowling gait, giving her a devilish grin. Yes, she was as good as he remembered. She awoke a storm inside him and he felt helplessly drawn in. He saw her swallow nervously before she answered.
"I couldn't sleep. I had to make sure I had everything I need for the journey. Please, take a seat." She gestured towards the opposite side of the table.
Geralt dropped his pack on the floor. "What's all this?" he asked, looking at the table while he sat facing her. He could hardly imagine that the inn would be so well provisioned, and even so it would require a significant amount of money to pay for this meal.
"I thought we could do with a good breakfast," she smiled.
From behind him Geralt heard the rustling of clothes and the creaking of the wooden floor under heavy steps which were unmistakably their landlady's. She approached carrying a large parcel.
"Everything is packed, my lady. As you requested," the woman said, placing the parcel at the other end of the long table.
"Thank you Dorrit." Ain nodded towards her with a smile.
"Is there anything you need, witcher?" The woman looked at him rubbing her hands.
He wondered yet again about the excessive hospitality, and suspected it had to do with Ain. He disliked not knowing who she was, and decided to rectify that as soon as possible.
"I'll need some food for the road," he answered plainly. The woman gave him a confused look.
"I already took care of that," Ain answered quickly and gestured towards the package on the table when Geralt turned to look at her. "That will be all for now Dorrit."
"Vitus has saddled and packed up your horses," the woman added.
"That's great. I'll come see you when we're ready to leave."
As soon as their hostess walked away towards the kitchen, Ain spoke up hurriedly.
"Please, Geralt, don't get mad at my presumptuousness. I am aware that you haven't agreed to anything yet, but before you give me your answer, please take a look at this."
She drew a small silk pouch from under the table and placed it in front of him with a soft thud. Geralt noted fleetingly how pliable and soft the pouch was in his hands, while he closely studied the young woman's anxious face.
When smooth stones rolled in his hand, he looked down. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires, all between the size of peas and quail eggs glistened in the light of the candles.
"I don't carry orens, but I can give you as many stones like this as you wish," she hurried to tell him when his gaze returned to her face.
Sold to the right buyer, the stones in his hand could fetch an outrageous sum for which he would otherwise have to work rather more than a hundred contracts. The number of contracts he found in the last three months could be counted on the fingers of one hand.
Geralt looked at her mindfully, wondering why she was willing to depart so easily with a fortune. He placed the pouch back on the table.
"Start by telling me who you are and where you come from," he said, and popped a ripe, juicy strawberry in his mouth, savoring the flavor as it washed over his tongue.
The voice of reason told him that this was a bad idea, no matter how attractive the payment was. He might not know who he was, but he couldn't imagine himself as one at the whims of a rich girl. Allowing her to tag along, as she seemed willing to do, was also out of the question. Wasn't it? At the least she would slow him down, but she could also get hurt. Besides, her refusal to tell him who she was made warning bells ring. Then what was he doing here still discussing this? What was this intense feeling he got in his gut every time he watched her?
"Why is it so important for you to know?" she asked, meeting his gaze with a frank look.
"I won't agree to anything unless you tell me," he warned her, then indulged in the flavored cheese and smoked ham, which he washed down with a long drink of fresh fruit juice. This was a meal fit for a king.
"We'll see about that," she muttered, and then she joined him in plucking different snacks from the table.
He grinned and watched her surreptitiously as they ate in silence. She was stubborn, fighting him like a kitty to get what she wanted. Her persistence roused his curiosity.
She was watching him as well, though she was not nearly as subtle.
"It's not polite to stare," he finally uttered harshly, catching her gaze abruptly.
"I'm sorry. You're right." She quickly lowered her eyes, and he was surprised to see her blush.
"But you didn't answer my question." She looked up at him again, her expression suddenly challenging.
"As soon as you answer my questions."
"I can't. It's complicated," she continued defensively when she met his gaze. "And it is my belief that it is best you don't know. Like this we can keep things simple."
She looked utterly convinced of her belief when she answered, and she held his gaze with a straight face. He raised himself brusquely and walked out of the room.
The cool morning air washed over him and he took a deep breath. The clouds were starting to disperse as the sun began to rise. Green fields stretched out as far as he could see, and only the agitated chirp of small birds in the trees in the garden disrupted the peacefulness in the countryside. He walked to the far end of the yard towards the stables, where he found his mare and two other horses saddled. One of the horses was heavily loaded and he approached to take a closer look, patting his mare on the neck as he came by. Neatly packed parcels of various sizes were tied to the harness on the horse's back. The horse snorted lightly and pawed the ground with its hoof. Geralt loosened the lace of a bag to look inside, and found folded cloth, rope and thin wooden pales. He heard someone approaching and turned around.
"Here is your pack." Ain said, handing him his belongings, including the pouch of precious stones he had left behind. He didn't take it. She looked pleadingly at him, her grey-blue eyes meeting his intently.
The landlady carrying the packed food approached and interrupted them. She was followed by the young boy who Geralt had met the previous day. He kept at a distance ogling Ain's backside.
Geralt didn't have a chance to take a good look at Ain's attire earlier. It was just as peculiar as the evening before, but this time he studied it with more focus than he'd managed the first time. She wore beige breeches that fit snugly around her hips and billowed loosely around her thighs. The cuffs were shoved into knee high leather boots. Her upper torso was wrapped in a large and seemingly soft brown shawl under which she wore a white cambric shirt. In the natural light he was able to make out the dark-chesnut colour of her hair and the colour of her eyes emphasized by thick dark lashes and beautifully arched eyebrows.
He secured his pack on Roach's back while three pairs of eyes watched him. He then turned towards Ain and asked, pointing at the open bag he had examined a moment ago.
"What's this?"
"It's a tent."
"Is everything in there so useless?"
"I'm sure I can make use of everything," she said, visibly embarrassed.
"And you can take care of two horses?" he continued his harsh interrogation with the same hard, even tone.
"Take care of them? Don't they … mostly take care of themselves?" she asked, uncertain.
She had no idea what she was getting herself into Geralt thought, and he had no intention of holding her hand.
"This much load is going to attract robbers."
"I didn't think about that," she answered miserably. Her cheeks were burning red.
With the lack of judgement she was displaying, he couldn't fathom how she had made it this far. Alone, and with this much load she was asking for trouble.
"It seems you didn't think about a lot of things."
She didn't make things easy for him, and he intended to repay her in kind with the same currency. And he was enjoying this more than he ought to. He pulled Roach by the reins, which set things in motion around him. Ain took the parcel of food from Dorrit and hurried to tie it on top of the pile on the back of the horse. She then clumsily tied the reins of the loaded horse to the saddle of her riding horse and pulled them along following him.
"Hurry, boy. Open the gate," Dorrit called to the stock-still boy.
When they reached outside the gate, Ain turned and thanked the woman and the boy for their help. With several more insecure movements, she mounted her horse and soon settled into the leisurely pace that he had set, following at a short distance behind him. She wasn't easily dissuaded, he thought with amusement.
o0o
The country road that stretched before them swayed between gentle hills, green and yellow plains of grown grains, and clusters of bushes and trees scattered here and there. It was a clear day and the warmth of the sun as it rose on the horizon and the gentle breeze caused pollen to spread, amplifying the aromas in the air, which Ain seemed to savor. She would often take deep breaths with a serene expression on her face. He stopped several places to replenish his supplies of celandine and white myrtle. She followed him, curious, and asked to help, stooping to pick the flowers with childish joy. Her manner contrasted sharply with the gracious forms of her body which was that of a woman. She had removed her shawl and he was plainly confronted with the way her perky breasts moved under the thin fabric of her loose, white shirt. The way her breeches stretched on her round bottom when she bent to pick the flowers only served to distract him further.
They travelled for several hours, and the road had been mostly deserted except for a merchant caravan that crossed their way, or the deer herds or single rabbits running scared in the fields. By noon the sight of a farming village came into view as the road reached the peak of a low hill. Cows and a few horses were grazing in the fields nearby, and he spied a well near the crossroads just outside the village. It was a good place to stop and water the horses. As they drew nearer, he also saw the silhouette of a woman. When she came clearer into view he saw that she was sitting on a large stone by the well hiding her face in her hands as if crying. They dismounted nearby, Ain copying his movements. When they drew near, the young woman stood up, startled, and dried her cheeks with her apron.
"What's wrong?" he asked coming closer.
"I… I don't feel like talking about it," the woman said, and she grabbed the bucket from the ground intent on leaving.
"Wait," Ain called, coming closer. My name is Ain and this is Geralt. Will you tell us your name?"
"Ileana," the woman answered, turning to look at her.
"You seem upset. Why don't you tell us what happened? Maybe we can help," Ain continued gently.
"True," the woman answered, and put the bucket back on the ground. She paused for a moment before she spoke in an uncertain tone. "It's my mother in law, Dochia…"
"What happened to her?" Ain encouraged.
"Nothing, but I'm afraid that something will happen to me."
"Why?"
"My husband and I live in Dorian. A short while ago he got word to come here, that Dochia was sick. So we came, and he left me here to take care of here. He had work at home, and he said he'll come for me when Dochia gets better. After he left, Dochia worked me like a horse and talked to me like to a dog. When I cleaned the house, I heard strange noises coming from the cellar. Growls, like some kind of animal. It made my hair stand up at the ends. I asked Dochia what's in there, but she wouldn't say. She just kept calling me names, and saying you'll see, you'll see." Ileana began sulking again.
"Geralt is a witcher. I think you should ask him for help."
Ain turned to look at Geralt, but she didn't dare ask out loud what her gaze plainly expressed.
"A witcher? Then will you help me?" Ileana turned to him and asked.
"I'll visit her and see what I can find out. My help will cost you 50 orens."
"I don't have so much money with me, but my husband will pay you if you'll go to Dorian. Business 's been rotten lately, but I had a good dowry and we saved it for rainy days."
"Where does your mother-in-law live?" Geralt asked, and Ileana pointed towards the house.
"Stay here until I get back, and give water to the horses," he told Ain, who proceeded to lower the bucket into the well with Ileana's help.
As he approached the strip of houses located on both sides of the road, he was first spotted by the children playing in the yards on the ground among chickens and dogs. They came running to look at him, but keeping at safe distance. A couple of women dropped their washing and sweeping and approached as well, giving him long looks while whispering to each other.
The house he was looking for had a small neglected garden surrounded by a shabby fence. It was a ramshackle structure, quite small and low, with straw roof, and dark curtains in the windows, but it didn't stand out by much between the other houses.
He received no answer when he knocked on the door, so he let himself in. The door opened to a dimly-lit room filled with crude furniture and hoards of worthless things. The air smelled heavily of earth, rotten wood and mold. He took several steps inside, navigating carefully between the cupboards and chairs standing between him and another door he could see at the opposite side of the room. The wooden floorboards creaked hollowly under his feet and it dawned on him that he must be standing just above the cellar. He looked searchingly for a hatchway, but right then the door opened and a frail hunched old woman yelled at him.
"Who are you?"
"I'm a witcher."
"Out! Get out of my house now! Get out!" She kept screaming and pushing him back towards the entrance.
He attempted to reason with her to no avail. She kept screaming and he had no choice but to step outside.
A small gathering of people was standing on the road in front of the house, some of them armed with pitchforks. It was not a novel sight.
"Keep away, witcher," one farmer uttered. He had a big belly and a small head, and seemed to be the leader of the flock.
"Ileana asked me to talk to her mother in law, Dochia," Geralt answered. As he approached, they all stepped back, the men raising their pitchforks while the women chuckled and nudged each other.
"The old hag knits with one needle when she hits the bottle." the peasant uttered. "She don't need a witcher."
"A witcher is exactly what she needs," Geralt said as he walked away, leaving them looking long after him.
The commotion behind him slipped into the background of his consciousness as soon as his eyes fell on Ain's silhouette. She was standing facing the other way, holding her long silky hair with both hands in a messy pile on the top of her head, and shading her eyes from the sun at the same time. A few strands of shiny hair escaped from the pile, but her long neck was otherwise exposed revealing smooth ivory skin. Ileana stopped mid sentence from her tale about the market in Dorian when she noticed him a few steps behind Ain, and Ain turned to look as well, freeing her hair.
"What did you find out?" Ileana asked anxiously.
"Nothing yet," he told them. "I'll have to try again later, when the old woman is asleep. Can you make sure of that?"
"Leave it to me," she said. "Come back in the evening." She then grabbed the bucket full of water and walked the same way he just come from.
Geralt looked at Ain's face, and their eyes met.
"Ileana mentioned a tavern a little further down the road..."
"They're not the welcoming sort here."
Grabbing the horse's reins, he walked away from the village. Not surprising, Ain followed after him. They walked over the pasture, until they reached the shade of a big chestnut tree that stood sentinel over the entire area. He secured Roach's reins around a low branch, and the horse immediately proceeded to eat the thick grass that covered the ground all around them. Ain followed his example with her two horses. She then unpacked a blanket and spread it out on the ground, and asked him politely to sit while she retrieved the parcel with food.
"It's really decent of you that you agreed to help Ileana, Geralt," she told him while she unpacked the food. "She said she didn't have anyone here to turn to. She told me she's from Kaedwen, and that people here haven't been very friendly towards her."
"It's my job. I'm getting paid for it," he answered indifferently.
She didn't seem bothered by his dismissive attitude, but didn't pursue the subject. She handed him a turkey sandwich and placed several more sandwiches and fruits between them. He could get used to this, he thought while they ate in silence.
He took out a small wooden box after he ate, and checked the small vials with potions inside under Ain's inquisitive look. There were several that would soon need refilling. He searched for the book with recipes that Vesemir had given him before he departed from Kaer Morhen. He still lacked some ingredients that were not as easy to acquire as common plants. He put the book aside, and Ain asked if she could see it. She then lay on her side, resting her upper body on one elbow. Geralt gathered a few old twigs and magically ignited them a few feet away, but not before he explained what he was doing to the ever curious and prying young woman. He then settled on his knees and heels in front of the fire. That's how they spent the rest of the afternoon; him meditating and her reading and watching him, until she eventually laid her head down and closed her eyes.
o0o
The sky got more clouded in the passing afternoon hours, and the setting sun was now creating an explosion of reds and violets from behind the clouds on the western sky. The air got chilled as well, and Ain had found her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders again. The fire was long dead by the time Geralt arose from his meditation. They packed their belongings and walked back towards the village by the time the darkness was creeping out. Ileana was waiting for them by the window, and hurried to open the door as soon as they entered the garden.
"Is Dochia asleep?" Geralt asked her when he walked through the door.
"She is. I made her a good meal, and kept filling her glass with wine until she passed out," she said in a low voice and gestured them to come in. "She's laying over there," Ileana pointed to a low bed in a corner.
"Where's the door to the cellar?"
"It's by the bed under the rug. I found it when I washed the floors."
They followed Ileana with silent footsteps, but by the loud snoring and hissing it seemed the old woman was deeply asleep.
"Here, take the key. I took it from Dochia."
He removed the rug, and found the hatch to the cellar. The big rusty key fit into the hole. He looked up at the two women who were watching him tensely.
"Get back by the door. Run out if anything happens."
"Geralt," Ain beseeched, "be careful."
He waited a few moments then turned the key in the hole. The loud clicking sound was followed by a growl and scratching coming from below. Geralt drew his sword and opened the hatch. In the dim candle light coming from above he could only see the top of a large wooden stair that descended into darkness. A foul smell was coming from inside and he felt his medallion vibrate. He stepped in, carefully listening for any sounds that could give away the location of whatever he was about to face, but the only noise came from his steps and from Dochia's breathing and unintelligible mumbling.
His eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, and he saw the bottom of the stairs and the dirty ground filled with scattered filthy old bones. A shrieking sound came suddenly from behind him, and he barely had the time to jump away and turn to face his assailant, who tore at the sleeve of his jacket, scratching its claw on the chain mail under it. The sight of the raised sword between them made the creature hesitate for a moment, giving Geralt the time to take a look at it. And suddenly he remembered. Memories of fighting beasts like it; old memories of learning about it during his training at Kaer Morhen all came rushing back.
The fleder hissed and jumped aside, trying to reach him with long arms that ended in long, sharp claws, but before the beast even touched the ground it was thrown back with shattering force by a wave of telekinetic power that stunned it and made the bones on the ground fly and bounce off the walls. In a blur of movement Geralt slashed the beast's head off in the blink of an eye.
He found the severed head and pulled out the fangs. He then climbed back up the stairs. At the top was confronted by the old woman coming his way holding a lamp. When she saw him, she started to scream in an earsplitting voice.
"You bastard! What have you done?"
She tried to hit him and push him out of the way. Geralt stepped back allowing her to get where she wanted. The woman gave a heart-breaking scream at the sight of the lifeless creature's body.
"My darling, my darling," Dochia kept weeping.
Ain came down the stairs followed by Ileana who was holding a lamp.
"What's going on?" she looked at Geralt, who came towards her.
"You shouldn't come in here," he told her blocking her way with his body. She tried to advance but he didn't move and she bumped into him and had to place her hands on his shoulders to regain her balance.
"Geralt, please," Ain pleaded, her face only inches away from his. "What happened?" she raised herself on her toes pressing her hands on his shoulders, trying to look behind him.
"A dangerous creature lived in here," he told her, grabbing her hips and pushing her back. Ain's gaze returned to him expectantly, and he sighed and turned aside to let her pass.
"Be careful," he said and grabbed her hand. He stepped back down pulling her behind him. Ileana followed raising the lamp so she could see further into the darkness.
Dochia was still grieving by the lifeless body when they approached, and he felt Ain flinch and squeeze his hand at the sight of it. Ileana was holding tight behind Ain.
"Gods, how horrible," Ileana uttered.
"Why is she crying for this monster?" Ain asked staring at the sight.
"The creature had enslaved her," he answered. "She will recover in a few days."
Hearing his voice, Dochia turned and got up looking enraged.
"You devil, you killed my darling," she yelled coming towards them. "You whore. You brought them here. Dogan is going to kill you, mark my words."
Geralt pushed Ain gently behind him and grabbed the old woman's thin and frail wrists as she tried to hit him.
"Woman, look at me. That thing on the ground is no husband or son of yours. Open your eyes."
"Who are you?" the old woman asked confused. "Get out of my house."
Geralt let her go and turned towards Ain, gesturing to move out. When they got back up, Ain noticed his torn jacket and asked him worried.
"Are you hurt?"
"No." He gave a quick glance at his thorn jacket and swore under his breath. It was ruined. "Let's get out of here," he told her.
"Witcher," Ileana called, "thank you."
"You still owe me 50 orens," he answered.
"Yes, you'll have your gold, but first you'll have to take me home. I can't stay here."
Geralt considered the options for a moment.
"She's right," Ain told him. "Let her come with us," she pleaded when he looked at her.
"How will she keep up?" he asked Ain, and then turned to ask Ileana. "Do you have a horse?"
"No," Ileana answered.
Ain hurried to say "She can have one of mine."
Both women looked at him, anxiously waiting for his consent. He let them agonize for a moment before he nodded, which elicited excited squeals, and they buoyantly hurried outside.
He had to help them distribute Ain's many packs on the other two horses, so that Ileana could ride on the third horse. Ain apologized to him about the inconvenience, but Geralt was far from upset. He had just remembered a small part of his past for the first time since he woke up without his memory. It could not have happened at a more convenient time, but he found the occurrence strange. First Ain's puzzling turn up, and now this exceptional incident - the coincidence made him ponder.
He usually enjoyed solitude. And now he had two women to look after. Reflecting back on the day, he admitted that Ain's company was neither bothersome, nor unpleasant. He had initially intended to allow her to come along until they arrived in Dorian. Once he got her safe into the city, he thought he could leave her behind. Now he wasn't so sure if that's what he wanted.
They were already riding on the empty road in the clear silence of the night when he came to his realization.
