Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin belong to their authors or legal successors. Lyrics of cited songs belong to their authors.


THE SKELLIGER TALES

Part I

WIND

Hard is it on earth, with mighty whoredom;

Axe-time, sword-time, shields are sundered,

Wind-time, wolf-time, ere the world falls;

Nor ever shall men each other spare.

~ Poetic Edda Völuspá


Vivo

TORUVIEL

Yule 1263

the camp

near Little Marsh

Temeria

Outside the tent, a cold wind was blowing strongly. Winter was becoming colder every day. Even here, the weather was not spoiling them. But, inside the tent, it was bearable. She was lying leisurely on her back with a man between her tights. Right now, his mouth was quite occupied, but she had no mind for talking, either. The only sound, which was escaping her mouth, was a soft moan. Her legs were resting on his back and right now, all of her body started to spasm and her heels may have pushed a little too hard, but he didn't mind. There were truly not many things he minded, especially when he was so close to chasing his own pleasure, as well.

"Hmm..." – he murmured curiously, looking at her from above, kneeling between her spread legs.

A moment later, he moved closer to her face, entering her in the process. Her legs moved on their own accord around his waist and her arms encircled his neck. His hands were on both sides of her chest and his thrusts became deeper and faster gradually. She moved one of her hands down to her clitoris and to her surprise, she managed to keep up with his pace. They came together shortly after, with loud moans.

"Probably too loud..." – he stated with a smirk and released her from the weight of his body.

"Hmm..." – she just murmured watching him dress up.

"Toru, we need to go" – he stated and shook his head at her playful smirk. – "We'll have visitors shortly."

"You are wary of him, aren't you?"

"Whom?"

"Isengrim Faoiltiarna. You are nervous" – she stated matter-of-factly.

"Obviously not. I've known him since I was five" – he replied with indignation.

"But now, you are thinking, if he approves of your decisions as a commander. The youngest, as I heard."

"I... OK. I am a bit. He is like an older brother to me and you know, that I haven't really had a father. And he is, maybe not appointed, but still, something of the leader for all of us. So..."

"You want his approval" – she stated standing up. – "You are a good commander. Stop double guessing yourself."

"Yeavinn is older, he should..."

"Leave Yeavinn out of this tent, please" – she said strongly.

"Is he? Toru, I don't want any argument over something so trifle. If he is uncomfortable, we must stop at once."

"He doesn't know what he wants. Lastly, it was Saraid..." – she stated coldly. – "Don't be silly, we are Aen Seidhe, we share."

"Yes, we do. But... I do not wish for any quarrel" – he replied, putting on his weapons.

"How long do we know each other? Fifteen years? You know, that I wouldn't endanger this commando for sex, even with you" – Toruviel replied with finality in her voice.

"Sometimes I'm not sure, if you come to me because you want to or because you don't want to commit to him too much. You've fallen in love with him, Toru. I can see that."

"I... I don't know, either. But... I'm not planning to ponder about it for too long. We'll see what the future brings."

"The wind is blowing from the West today. What the future will bring, is the snow" – he chuckled.

"You are mocking me."

"I am. But, right now, we must hurry. I need to check the camp before..."

"The inspection. You see it as an inspection. Don't pretend otherwise."

"OK. I won't" – he said with an unsure smile and moved to leave the tent. But just before he left, he added: – "You know... You should be the commander. Everything would be easier."

"I know. One day, I will" – she answered chuckling. – "But, right now, I'm quite comfortable here, mind you. After all, it is you, who is waiting for the inspection and possible scolding, not me. I see only advantages of my position" – she was laughing openly at him.

"You are great" – he stated coldly and left.

She dressed up slowly, thinking about this whole conversation. But she knew, that she should join them outside, so she emerged from the tent. Once outside, she shivered immediately, from the cold.

They haven't seen Isengrim for a while now and she was pondering how he was. Maybe, he would bring good news? Maybe something is changing? But more possibly, the news would be the same as always: recruit and wait. But everyone was getting tired of waiting.


YAEVINN

Yule 1263

the camp

near Little Marsh

Temeria

Their camp was already growing, as was the commando. Twenty men and women were fighting together under Iorveth's command by now. It was quite impressive. The commando was mostly made of Aen Seidhe from Temeria and Cidaris, as himself. Only Iorveth and Toruviel came from Blue Mountains and it gave them a considerable advantage, for example: the command.

He looked at Iorveth's tent, just in time, to see him emerging from it and heading to check the rest of the camp. Yeavinn stood there for a while, only to see, what he expected to see – Toruviel emerging from the same tent with a small smile, just a few minutes later.

Obviously...

He approached her and began in mocking voice:

"You should do something with your hair. You look messy."

"Yeavinn, just correct them. It's not so hard and I can't see" – she said with a smile.

"Me? You should have asked the person, who brought you to such a state" – he replied coldly.

"What do you want?" – she asked coldly now.

"Nothing."

"Exactly, you've already said that to me some time ago, remember? We are walking in circles..."

"Forget, what I said" – he stated, turning around and heading to Finnoladh, leaving her standing slightly dumbfounded.

He glanced back at her from a distance and she looked exactly the same as the first time they met. Internally, he was still debating whether he is grateful or whether he curses the day he laid his eyes on her for the first time.

Feainn 1262

Wyzima

Temeria

The outskirts of Wyzima, as they were called officially, were rather slums. Buildings were made of wood and thatched roofs. many of them didn't even have windows. He was living alone, in the last house by the pool, in the direction of the forest. He spent most of his days as a poacher and a smuggler. To tell the truth, there was not much more to do for a Seidhe here.

Just as he stood in front of an old mill, by many considered a haunted place, he overheard a conversation in Hen Llinge:

"We can run straight to the forest..." – one female voice stated.

"But the soldiers are waiting for us to do so" – the other female said. – "No... there must be another way to get away with these weapons."

"There is" – he said calmly, entering the mill – "by the water and to the forest down South."

Both Seidhe were aiming at him from their bows, but as they realised, that he is a Seidhe, they lowered their weapons. One of them had long, blond hair and green eyes. The other had raven-black hair with two thin plaits braided at her temples and pitch-black eyes. She looked predatory and wild. For a moment, he held his breath at her sight.

"My name is Toruviel aep Sihiel" – she stated. – "And this is My'aena."

"Pleasure to make your acquittance. I heard you well, but for me, you are more of a Cerbin than Toruviel."

She looked at him pointedly and smiled. Then, she spoke again:

"Would you join our fight?"

"Fight?" – he replied with a question.

"Against them, filthy, barbarian pavienn..."

"You are one of those, who are called Scoia'tael, aren't you?"

"Yes. So, how will it be? Do you stay here, in the slums or... do you prefer our forest?"

He didn't hesitate, before saying:

"Just let me gather my belongings and I'll guide you away from here."

Before leaving the mill he looked back and saw her, looking at him, as well. Then and there he knew, that he would follow her anywhere. Even to the depths of the hell itself.

It was a week later, as they arrived at the camp, when he understood, that she is already following some else. A young, black-haired Seidhe with green eyes. At the same time, he realised, that he's not only Toruviel's commander, but also a friend and time-to-time lover and they knew each other for fifteen years...

His relation with the slightly younger man quickly became complicated. The first night in the camp they spent on a threesome. But, as pleasurable as it was, it was also... the beginning of the problem. Only a few days later, he felt, that the mere presence of Iorveth near Toruviel is making him see red. Jealous. He had never thought, that it would ever happen to him, but... there he was: possessive. Falling in love with a woman, who was practically a stranger and quasi-taken, too.

Toruviel, on the other hand, was manoeuvring between both of them, seemingly totally oblivious to what was happening. Yaevinn and Iorveth had a fight two months later, not even a month ago. Not about her, obviously, but... both knew, that she is the main reason behind their quarrel. They reconciled quickly and had a conversation... No, THE conversation:

"Yeavinn, I... If you mind, it stops. I've already told you that many times before."

"Of course, I don't mind. We shared before as we are shared by women here. It's how it works and I enjoy that, but... one day I will ask the same of you and you won't refuse."

"Obviously, why would I? As you said: it is what we do."

"Hmm... Let's drink to that, fraere."

Iorveth had been ready to leave Toruviel for good, but Yeavinn was no fool. She was not this kind of a woman to accept any arrangement they may make. She and only she could decide about her relationships. If he had accepted Iorveth's offer – she would never come back to him, of that, he was more than certain. So Yeavinn gave up, reassuring the younger Seidhe, that he and Toruviel can do whatever they please. He clenched his jaw and fisted his palms the second he said it, but... he still did.

Additionally, Iorveth was the commander. Not, that he was bad at it – to the contrary: the Seidhe had an impressive intuition and was a skilled fighter. Still... following his orders never came easily. But Yeavinn knew as well, that if he tried to undermine him, it would look as pettiness and jealousy, so he never did.

Just right now the younger Seidhe was approaching him slowly:

"Yeavinn, we..."

But he never finished. They heard a whistle and Iorveth answered quickly. Just then, from the forest to the East, a group of five riders emerged. At their head, was a proud and handsome Seidhe on a bay horse. His long, dark brown hair, was falling in graceful waves on his shoulders and his ebony eyes were carefully scanning the surroundings. He looked impressive. His horse stopped before them and he got down with studied grace. He was wearing a crimson shirt with dark brown trousers and coat. For a man, who fought for half a year already, he was still the impersonation of Aen Seidhe elegance. With calm face, he approached them and stated:

"Fraere" – just before hugging Iorveth brotherly.

"And you are?" – Isengrim looked attentively at him.

"Yeavinn, it is an honour, commander" – he answered politely.

"Fraere" – the man said with a smile – "and it's a pleasure. Now, come... show me what you built here" – he motioned to the camp and went inside.

Iorveth looked at Yeavinn unsure, but followed.

So this is an inspection. Interesting.

Yeavinn chuckled to himself, before entering the camp as well.


ISENGRIM

Yule 1263

the camp

near Little Marsh

Temeria

A day after he arrived at Iorveth's camp, he was sitting with him by the breakfast, while most of the camp was still deeply asleep. The snow was falling slowly to the ground all around them and the white fluff was already covering the ground and trees around the clearing. They were sitting in warm furs, but still, the cold was noticeable.

Our first winter in camps. It is not easy, but we will all manage... We always do.

"I see, that you have no problems with provisions" – he said to the other Seidhe.

"No. There is plenty of game and we already managed to steal more clothing."

"You are doing great, fraere. I hope, you know it."

"I know. I thought, that you came here to plan something" – Iorveth said looking at him curiously.

"Yes and no. I wanted to make sure, that you are fine" – he smiled fondly – "but there is something, I was discussing with Coinneach Da Réo not long ago and we may use your help. Your commando is growing rapidly."

"Many Seidhe from here have reasons to join us."

"Yes... yes, they do. Your recruitment strategy is working" – Isengrim stated proudly.

"We are doing our best. It is risky: to send men to the cities, on missions for some trivia and to make them pretend, that they need help, but... it worked out well. Especially Toru is an expert in being a damsel in distress" – both chuckled at this statement. – "This is how we recruited Yeavinn. He knows how to hunt and how to fight, this is more than many of my men could do when they joined us."

"I noticed... Tension."

"He's fallen in love with Toru, or at least, it is what I suspect."

"But she is in your tent right now, isn't she?"

Iorveth swallowed loudly and cleared his throat before answering:

"Yes."

"Does he know, that she played him?"

"No."

After the last answer, Isengrim raised an eyebrow. There was a moment of silence, before the older Seidhe continued:

"Do you believe, that a woman – and you know that I like Toru immensely, but still – is worthy of such a petty quarrel with a brother?"

"He never said, that it bothers him, I've asked a thousand times. And... isn't it what we do? We are the free Aen Seidhe: passionate and unbounded."

"Yes, but sometimes... even we can become possessive."

"I cannot even imagine myself... C'mon" – Iorveth stated shaking his head.

"Me neither. Maybe it will never happen or maybe it didn't happen just yet. But remember, where your priorities lay. Most importantly: never ever abuse your position. Only a weak leader uses his power to please himself or herself and you are many things, fraere, but not weak."

"I won't disappoint you" – the younger Seidhe replied slowly.

There was a long silence when both men were deep in their thoughts. It was Isengrim, who broke it again:

"Do you trust me, Iorveth?"

"Always and with anything, you know it, fraere. Why did you ask?"

"I may have a plan for you to implement. But... it's neither easy nor safe."

"Just say a word."

"The Order of the Flaming Rose. They are attacking us already, even before the dh'oine kings decided to fight against Scoia'tael. We need to bleed them."

"Where?"

"You will go to the riverbank of the Adalatte river. They have an outpost much too close to Brokilon. Lady Eithné requires our assistance."

"We'll move in the spring."

"No... wait till summer, the marshes are dangerous during the thaw."

"OK. In Feainn, then."

When he was leaving two days later, he looked back and saw Iorveth and Yeavinn standing calmly on the edge of the camp. He felt gusts of wind blowing in his direction, throwing the snowflakes in his face. Then, he spun his horse and rode into the forest, but an inexplicable worry didn't leave his mind.


TORUVIEL

Birke 1263

the camp

near Little Marsh

Temeria

The spring was coming, carried by the South-Eastern, warm wind and even first leaves could be found on the trees. She was walking slowly to Yeavinn's tent. For the last month, they became... distant. At the same time, his relation with Iorveth was changing for the better. She knew how egoistic it was, to go to him right now, to risk the balance, they all reached but...

Oh, I miss him. Even the last time I wished... Ah...

She spread slowly the material of the tent and saw him sitting and making a trap. He looked at her, surprised and stated:

"Toru. Is everything fine?"

"Yes... I... wanted to see you" – she stated quietly.

"Oh... Well, is there any particular reason?"

"I want to make love to you."

"And Iorveth? Is he busy?" – he asked in a mocking voice.

"Why do you bring him into this conversation?" – she asked irritated in return.

"You know... as we are talking about the commander... he told me to ask you about the day we've met, if I have the occasion. What did he mean?"

"Fuck... You won't like the answer" – she stated calmly, a little bit resigned.

"I still want to hear it."

"It was a ruse."

"What?!" – he exclaimed.

"I warned you" – she replied slowly.

"Explain" – he demanded.

"I invented it with Iorveth, quite a while ago, a plan to recruit more Aen Seidhe for our commando."

"Yours?" – he asked with raised eyebrow.

"Yes, Yeavinn. Ours. I may be his lover, that is true. But, I am, first and foremost, his second in command. It is our commando. Continuing: we were pretending to be damsels in distress. We played you to react exactly as you did."

He closed his eyes.

"You were right. I didn't want to hear it."

"Told you..."

"So, did you come here with an order?" – he asked angrily.

"To undress?" – she half-asked half-stated and smirked at him.

He hid his face behind his hands, before looking back at her.

"I show you mine when you show me yours" – he stated with half-surrendering and half-playful voice.

Once undressed, she wasn't sure, why she choose this position, neither comfortable nor quickly pleasuring.

We have time... Don't we?

Nor was she sure, why she was thinking about that... But still, she straddled him facing his feet and she took him into her mouth, allowing him to...

Ah...

...occupy himself with her womb. They came like that and quite satisfied, too. But it was when he motioned her to turn around and to sit on his lap, while he held her close to his body, moving leisurely up and down with her, as she realised – looking in those big, brown, predatory right now, eyes – that she has already fallen in love with this man too deep and nothing would be simple anymore.

She emerged from Yeavinn's tent in the morning, only to find Iorveth already by the fire. She approached him and she was angry:

"Why did you tell him to ask me about the day we've met?"

"He deserved to know. But... as I see, it worked out well" – he stated slightly irritated.

"You know... You are like a wind. You start slowly, growing gradually, but when you're gone, you leave nothing behind. Like a hurricane" – she replied coldly.

"I didn't leave you Toruviel..."

"No, but I do, at least for a while. I'm taking Yeavinn and we are going recruiting. We'll be back in the winter" – she said with finality in her voice.

Iorveth was silent for a long time, just looking her in the eyes. In the end, he stated:

"OK. Look for us near Brokilon, probably the Adalatte river. We are moving there."

"Fine" – she said and went back to the tent.

She wasn't sure, why she was so angry with him, but she was. She looked straight at the sun and stood like that, pondering, for a long time.

Going on our own would be the best option. We all need time.


Allegro

RAGNAR

Birke 1264

Fiddler's Green Bay

South from Kerack

Kerack

In the early morning, they were nearing the small bay in Kerack, but from the distance, they noticed a ship, tilted in a strange way.

"Sinking ship" – Mannix stated with no emotions.

"The colours? Do you see?" – Vendela asked.

"Temerian lily" – Mannix answered. – "Captain?"

Margo was watching the ship pensively. Then, they all saw a fire on it. It was dangerous, but the captain:

"We turn around! Prepare to tuck!"

They got to the sinking navy ship in half an hour. There was not much of it any longer, but he noticed a man drifting in their direction on a board, so he shouted:

"Man overboard!"

"I see! Ragnar observe him! Viggo and Niklas to the rim, pull him out! Yngve, we need to slow down a bit!"

They all shouted: Ready! And prepared to take the man out of the water. A few minutes later, he was aboard, but unconscious. Ronja was resuscitating him until he started to breathe, but still, he didn't wake up.

It was noon and spring this year has already been incredibly warm. The wind was blowing softly from the South and the waves were flooding over their drakkar lazily. The day was great for sailing, but, unfortunately, they were nearing the beach in a small bay they knew so well.

What a pity... It is for the days like this we are pirates... And the boat means freedom.

He looked at Margo, standing at the foredeck and observing the bank intently. She turned around and shouted:

"Niklas! Viggo! To the mainsail halyards!"

"Ready!"

"Mainsail down!"

"Down!"

"We drift! Yngve to the anchor!"

"Ready!"

"Anchor down! Nice and easy, Yngve! Report!"

"It reached the bottom!"

"Wait! All right. We are steady. Ragnar! Prepare to leave the boat with hawser!"

"Ready!"

"Go to the nearest tree!"

"Going!"

He jumped to the shallow water and went slowly to the nearest tree. He tied quickly a clove hitch and shouted:

"Ready!"

"Crew! Prepare to leave the boat!" – was the last order of their captain.

They all got ashore. The leaves on the trees were starting to grow and the grass was greener here than on Faroe. It was a good decision, to go raiding to Kerack, at least the weather was better here.

They dragged the unconscious man ashore and Margo tried to wake him up. It worked: his eyes opened and he looked at their captain, asking in a hoarse voice:

"What...?"

"Give him water" – Margo said and as he was drinking, she continued: – "Your ship sunk, you were lucky, that we were in the vicinity. You are in Kerack. Can you walk?"

"There was an explosion... the powder..." – the man said, trying to stand up.

"Some idiot smoked the pipe below the deck, it happens" – Ragnar stated.

"You saved my life" – the man looked at them in disbelieve. – "My name is Jon..."

"Pleasure to make your acquittance, Jon and I don't really care. But we must go on our way as must you. Our business is our own" – Ronja stated firmly.

"Obviously. But... I owe you my life. What can I do in return?" – he said in a stronger voice.

"Do you see this bracelet?" – Margo showed him the bracelet with three black pearls, her father gave her six years ago – "If you meet a person, myself or any other, in need, wearing this bracelet: you will repay your debt. And never ever speak about this meeting to anyone, not even your own wife."

"I will and I will keep your secret" – the man stated and started to walk away, disappearing into the forest.

After a while, Ragnar looked at the captain, who was just approaching him:

"Crew! We have a few days to the city, we better start going at once."

So they did, venturing North through forests and meadows on the shore of the Great Sea.


MARGO

Birke 1264

the riverbank of the Adalatte

Kerack

The road from the city, to the place, where they were directed to, took them three days. The wind was blowing from the See and the sun was already high up in the sky. The spring was beautiful with daffodils and narcissus, which were blooming richly in bright white and yellow colours on their way.

The inhabitants of Kerack were really desperate to get rid of the monster, living up the river, to set such a ludicrous price. She and her crew, they had hunted monsters with Geralt of Rivia so many times, that they decided to try to get rid of the beast and became rich – fabulously rich – in the process. The description of the monster, given to them by the inhabitants of Kerack, sounded like a wyvern, so the job was expected to go smoothly enough.

They were just emerging from the forest to a clearing near a rocky riverbank as they saw it: wyvern and two Aen Seidhe trying hard to scare her off. She and her crew were all carrying silver swords, so... it was a piece of lembas. Both of the elves were untouched and Margo was just to smile at the victory as she heard them: three more wyverns, which emerged from above the forest, after the first one was slain.

"Fuck! Incoming! Crew! Stand your ground, hide the elves inside the circle!"

They fought hard, but it wasn't looking good. Mannix and Leif were already lying on the ground and she wasn't sure, if they were still alive. One wyvern was down, but the remaining two just refused to die. When she was left alone with the bigger one, out of no where, the arrows began to fly and a Seidhe was at her side. Unfortunately, exactly then, she noticed the long tail with a venomous trident, nearing him fast. She didn't think twice, before running to him and pushing him to the ground, falling on the top of him in the process. She didn't even spare him a glance, before she rolled and stood up with swords still in her hands.

"What the fuck?!" – he shouted at her in a harsh voice.

"The tail! It's venomous! I just saved your miserable life, you fucking idiot!" – she barked back. – "Do you have a silver?"

"What?!"

"A silver! Silver sword!"

"No."

"So you are a distraction. Make her focus on you!"

"Are you mad?!"

"Do you want to live? If so, shut the fuck up and do what I say!"

She observed the wyvern focusing on the Seidhe for just a moment. In the meantime, she ran and jumped under her belly to cut it in half, emerging behind the beast. The wyvern fell to the ground, dead, but... the tail fell too – slightly scratching her hand. She shrieked and felt dizziness creeping to her mind. For a moment, she still hoped, that all is fine, but her vision became blurred. Then, she fell on the sand and everything went black.


RONJA

Birke 1264

the riverbank of the Adalatte

Kerack

She observed the whole scene with horror. All beasts were lying on the ground, dead, but...

"Margo!" – she screamed and ran to her captain.

The moment she was at her side, she saw a wound on her hand. As the second in command, she needed to react quickly:

"Viggo, alcohol, now! How is the rest?"

"All alive" – Viggo answered, running with the Mahakaman spirit and pouring it on Margo's hand.

"It looks fine. There is nothing more we can do – Ronja stated calmly and stood up, only to notice the Seidhe standing next to her. The same Seidhe, who was fighting side-by-side with her captain just a moment ago."

He is... gorgeous...

His raven-black hair was medium-cut, almost brushing his shoulders. It was falling in delicate waves, too. And the eyes! Dark green, looking like leaves of holy. He was taller than her and slender. His face was definitely the most handsome face she had ever seen. In short: he was a vision. A true vision. She stared, gaping as he raised his eyebrow and asked slowly and with a little bit of irritation in his voice:

"Who are you?"

"Pirates" – she answered, quickly gathering herself.

"Pirates? Since when do pirates hunt monsters?" – he asked with disbelieve in his voice.

"The price for these wyverns' heads is ridiculously high. We wanted some money."

"I see..." – he replied and looked at Margo. – "She shouted to me, that the tail is venomous and she faded away quickly, after being cut. Is there anything...?" – he trailed off.

"No. The spirit shall help to neutralise the venom. If too much of it didn't get to her blood, she has a chance... We must wait and see" – she replied sternly.

"You all saved Toru and Yaevinn..." – he stated slowly and thought for a moment before adding: – "We have a camp nearby. You may wait there for her to wake up."

"It may take days."

"Fine. We are not going anywhere" – he replied casually, still looking at Margo.

"I will send Niklas with the wyverns' heads to the town. We may split the price" – she stated calmly.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" – now, he focused his attention on Ronja and she held her breath again, but spoke in an irritated voice:

"No. But you need money, even more than we do. We are pirates, not Blue Stripes: we don't lead land rats to people, who offered their help."

He looked at her pensively for a long time, then he looked back at Margo. In the end, he stated, but was still distrustful:

"Fine, but Sitheach is coming with your man, just to make sure."

"Agreed. What's your name?"

"Iorveth. And yours?"

"Ronja."

"And hers?"

"Margo. She is our captain."

"Ha!" – he huffed and added shaking his head: – "It explains a lot."

"Like what?"

"She was shouting at me quite insultingly and demandingly. I am not used to allowing dh'oine doing something like that without punishment" – he replied dangerously.

"I saw your fight. She saved your life. I guess, that you'll swallow her insults and orders. Moreover, she is more experienced than you are" – Ronja stated looking him deep in the eyes.

"What do you mean?" – he asked confused.

"How long are you leading a commando, hmm...? A year? Less?"

"Why are you asking?"

"She is leading a crew for six years. She saw more raids and fights than you saw winters, unless you are hundred-years-old. Are you?"

"No... far from it, actually" – he answered still confused.

"Now you understand?" – she replied with finality in her voice.

He didn't answer, but looked at the young woman lying lifeless in front of him with narrowed eyes and growing curiosity.


IORVETH

Birke 1264

the camp

near the Adalatte

Kerack

Three days after they came to the camp with pirates and their captain, he was standing alone in the tent, where Margo was still lying almost lifeless. He was shocked, to see his commando accepting, even befriending, the crew within a few hours. By now, they were treated, as if they have always been one of them, Scoia'tael. Even he admitted, that they were a good company, skilled in fight, disciplined and incredibly loyal. The first two days, the whole crew spent mostly at their captain's side. But on the third day, in the early morning, they simply collapsed and went, finally, to sleep in their tents. Iorveth promised to keep watch over her and so he did.

It was the first time, that he had an occasion to look closer at her. She had rather short, red and curly hair, now surrounding her face in a mess. And a beautiful face it was, not in Aen Seidhe way, but still, even he admitted that. Even now, while she was asleep, there was a tension in her features, something predatory and demanding.

I haven't seen such a fierce person in a long time. The way she fought, she ordered me to... It's maybe for the better, that she is not awake, while I'm here alone.

But just then, she moved her hand and he realised, that her eyelids are beginning to open. He stood in a distance and reached for water. As she opened her eyes, she was confused and barely whispered:

"Water..." – he approached her and she drank. When she was finished, she looked up at him again and asked: – "Who are you?"

"Don't you remember the wyvern?" – he asked slowly.

"Obviously, I do. I don't remember you, unless... Ah... I pushed you to the ground, didn't I?"

"Your men are saying, that you saved my life and you don't even remember..." – he said with a surprise in his voice.

"I had better things to do than to look at you. The wyvern, remember?" – she answered in a bored voice.

He was utterly shocked now.

She didn't remember me? The handsome Seidhe? Really?

"Where are we?" – she continued to inquire.

"In my camp" – he answered with a little unsure voice.

"Why?" – she asked quite demandingly.

"You and your crew, you saved my men. I always pay my debts, even to a dh'oine."

"Haha" – she laughed bitterly. – "It is you, who brought race into this conversation, remember that. You: Aen Seidhe and racism. It is pathetic. It's true, what they say about you..."

"And what do you know about it, dh'oine?!" – he barked.

"Race-shaming now? You are a fool."

"How dare you?"

"I saved your life, remember?"

"And now you own me? Does it give you a right to insult me again?"

"Again?! Ah... but battlefield is a battlefield, did you feel insulted, proud Seidhe?" – she mocked him viciously.

"Only a fool wouldn't."

"Well..." – she trailed off, making yet another mocking expression.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" – he exclaimed losing his patience.

"Are you always so insecure? Or just with me?"

"I would kill you, you filthy dh'oine, if it wasn't for your men" – he growled dangerously.

"As to my men: how are they?" – she asked in a totally different, concerned voice.

"Fine. Here."

"All?"

"All."

"We'll leave as soon as possible. Even the day after tomorrow" – she stated calmly.

"Fine" – he barked, turned around and headed to the entrance of the tent.

He left the tent agitated and he noticed, that Toruviel and Yeavinn were already walking in his direction. It was her, who asked:

"What happened? You have murder written all over your face..."

"She woke up" – he growled.

"And? – she asked curiously."

"I can't stand her" – he answered coldly.

"Ah..." – Toru nodded slowly. – "I'll talk to her" – she added and disappeared in the tent.

"Iorveth?" – Yeavinn asked slowly.

"Yes?"

"Are you still there?"

"She is the most irritating person I had the displeasure of meeting. So presumptuous..." – he answered in an irritated voice.

"Oh... I see."

"What?"

"Nothing" – Yeavinn answered cryptically with a strange grin and followed Toruviel.

He was still so angry, that the only thing he could do, was going to hunt. So he did.

The next day, in the morning, the woman approached him slowly, but firmly and stood in front of him, with her arms crossed beneath her breasts, saying:

"I've met your commando. They seem to to be quite fond of my crew."

"They are" – he stated as coldly as he could, but her presence itself made him angry, already.

"Toru suggested, that you may need our help."

"Did she?!" – he more stated than asked, with a raised eyebrow, but she didn't react, so he continued: – "Your men are well trained and know a lot about fighting."

"I heard, that the Knights are quite wealthy. We will be more than happy to steal from their dead corpses" – she said, looking at something behind him with a bored expression.

"I guess..."

"But we cannot have two commanders" – she paused and looked him in the eyes.

Then he almost held his breath. Those eyes were flint-grey, cold and commanding. Endless and bottomless, like the abyss.

Incredible... I could lose myself in those eyes. Wait! I am losing my mind, if I thought that about this little monster in front of me.

But she continued in a cold voice, totally unaware of his thoughts:

"We, me and my men, are at your disposal, if you wish."

As he heard her, he was observing her for a long time, dumbfounded.

Dh'oine fighting for me? Ludicrous... But I saw them fight...

"All right, stay."

She didn't say anything else, just turned around and went back to her tent. He watched her going away for a long while.

Complicated little thing, isn't she? She just offered an olive branch and...

"We, me and my men, are at your disposal, if you wish".

Why did she put it like that? If I wish... There are so many things, which I want, but I would never have. Just... add one more to the list...

The pirates stayed with them, indeed. They were sparring with his men, scouting, hunting. They adjusted to Scoia'tael routine fast and fitted perfectly. Even more, they made some things simpler... Many things, but... her presence. From the first day, he and Margo, either didn't speak to each other or fought. Hard.


TORUVIEL

Birke 1264

the camp

near the Adalatte

Kerack

Days were already longer and many flowers began to bloom on their clearing. Spring was upon them, as was Gealach lán, celebrations of the full moon. Since she came back with Yeavinn to the commando, she limited her time alone with Iorveth to almost none, but... well, on the full moon everybody made love to everybody. It was truly the night of the free love and it looked like it would be warm and cloudless, as well. Making love under the stars and the moon was always preferable for any Seidhe.

It was noon when she overheard yet another fight:

"I've already asked you twice to put them back after you use them!" – it was Margo's irritated voice coming from behind the tent.

"I had more important things to do!" – Iorveth shouted back.

"Like what?! I took care of scouting and hunting for the last week. What was so important to do, that you couldn't keep the order in the camp?! How can you function like that?"

"It is my camp, woman and I will function in it as I please!" – Iorveth exclaimed with finality in his voice.

"Only a weak leader must remind everyone of his position" – she stated coldly and turned around to walk away.

"What?!" – he called after her, but she already disappeared from the sight.

Toruviel approached him slowly and asked playfully:

"Do you want to spar?"

"Yes" – Iorveth answered, but was still angry.

They fought for a while, but it was pointless. He was distracted, so she sighed and asked:

"Have you ever sparred with her?"

"Whom?"

"Margo."

"No."

"Maybe you should?"

"I don't think so..."

"Afraid?" – a new, cold and mocking voice came from behind Toruviel.

Margo. She never speaks like that to anyone else. She has a strong and demanding voice, that is true, but it's warm and nice, always. Always, but when she speaks to him.

"Are you challenging me? "

"Obviously" – she stated and drew her swords. – "Wager?"

"My bow and your silver sword. Three rounds?" – he asked.

Everybody, who was listening to their conversation, gasped. They were to fight almost to death. Which in their case was... well, simply dangerous.

"Fine and fine" – she accepted with a careless smile and approached him.

For a long time, they were encircling each other: hunters observing the prey. But they clashed, soon. The first round was for him, the second for her and the third...

"Draw" – Toruviel stated strongly, looking at her bleeding neck and his shirt cut open, revealing a long wound on his chest. – "This is enough. Both of you, go to your tents and tend to these wounds. Your little games are foolish and too dangerous, idiots."

They were both kneeling on the ground, looking at Toruviel and at each other. She saw Margo's eyes drawn for a long time to his tattoo, which was now almost fully revealed. But, both stood up and followed her order.

They will kill each other one day. But why? What is going on? Unless...

In the early evening, they were all sitting together by the bonfire. She was observing both, Margo and Iorveth, curiously. They were glancing at each other from time to time, but never for too long and their stares never met. They spoke politely to each other, but only, when they needed to. Suddenly, Margo asked her, after she ate:

"Vanilla?"

"Yes. You have a good sense of smell, sor'ca" – Toruviel answered.

"I think it's high time we disappear" – she first glanced pensively at Toruviel, but then, she looked at her men, who got up and went to their tents without a word.

She knew and she warned them. On this night, they must stay away or the hell will break lose...

But, as Margo was leaving, it was Iorveth, who stood up and called, approaching her:

"Margo! Your coat..."

She glimpsed surprised at him, but went in his direction, looking intently at him. The moment their hands accidentally met, while she was taking her piece of clothing from him, Toruviel saw it: they both tensed and held their breath. Then, Margo quickly turned around and disappeared without a word.

Iorveth didn't come back to them, but went to his tent, as well.

An hour later, she was walking to Iorveth's tent in nothing, but her coat. She spread the material and saw him sitting on the blankets and looking blankly ahead.

"Iorveth?" – she started.

"Hmm...?" – he looked at her, but something was still distracting him.

She approached him and sat on his lap opening her coat. He sneaked his hands around her waist looking at her face with a small smile, but he said:

"Toru... Go back, I..." – he trailed off.

"I know and it's not why I came here... I can see, fraere. You are not in the mood, but you always are, Iorveth. It's... her, isn't it?"

"What? Whom?" – he faked surprise rather poorly.

"Margo" – she answered matter-of-factly.

"Don't be ridiculous. She... I... I'm just tired of her presence here."

"But you like her crew..."

"Sure, they are fine, but her..."

"Iorveth?"

"Hmm?"

"Nothing" – she stated and rested her head on his shoulder.

They were sitting like that for a time, but she moved from him, kissed him chastely on the cheek, smiled and left.


LEIF

Blathe 1264

the camp

near the Adalatte

Kerack

They were just playing Gwent, in the light of the setting sun, as Toruviel came to Margo, but the latter spoke slowly:

"They should have been back by now."

"Yes. A few hours ago."

"Maybe it's a good plan to sent another team before jumping to any conclusion?"

"Yeah... But Iorveth never..."

"Toru, we need to know for sure, before we will worry. Leif? Would you go with Saraid?"

"Sure" – both answered and went to prepare for scouting.

They found both, Iorveth and Sitheach, few hours later, shackled in the ruins of the house, occupied currently by the bandits. They ran back to the camp with the news. Toruviel didn't hesitate for long: she asked Margo to take men and move, while she remained with Yeavinn to guard the camp. When Margo heard the news, her face tensed and worry crept to her eyes, while she clenched her teeth, but she got up quickly and ordered to move at once.

Now, they were hidden in the forest, waiting for the command to shoot. The odds were not in their favour... far from it, but Margo still ordered in a determined voice, with cross-bow in her hands:

"Spar'le!"

They made their way through the bandits' camp. Margo quickly disappeared in the ruins, but he didn't have time to observe her for too long. The fight was hectic. They survived, but... many were badly injured. As the bandits outside were already lying dead, Margo emerged, followed shortly by shouting Iorveth:

"What have you been thinking? There were four of them! Do you wish for death or rape, cause I'm not sure?!"

"How dare you?! I knew, that Sitheach was already free and would help me" – she shouted back.

"But why did you go that way in the first place?!" – he shouted again.

"A trap-door, fraere" – it was Sitheach, who answered him. – "I saw it when they were all already dead."

"If they left, they would have an interesting story to tell, wouldn't they? Pirates saving the Scoia'tael..." – Margo said to Iorveth in a steady, but angry voice, looking at him with a challenge in her eyes.

"But you risked..." – he continued in an angry voice.

She paid him no mind already, looking at her crew and counting. As always after a fight. Satisfied with the result, she ordered:

"Take everything we may use" – and started to walk in the direction of the camp.

Iorveth was dumbfounded at first, but gathered himself to help men in the search. Once they were back at the camp, Leif noticed Margo leaving Toruviel and heading to her tent, but Iorveth approached her in a quick pace and asked in even angrier voice than before:

"What are you doing?!"

"I'm going to take a bath" – she answered coldly. – "I do not plan to listen to your screams and idiotic complaints. And I stink of blood."

She said that, went to her tent, took new clothes and emerged heading in the direction of the river. They all saw him following her, but she paid him no mind and walked ahead.


IORVETH

Blathe 1264

dusk

the riverbank of the Adalatte

Kerack

"Do you think, that you can just walk away like that?! I am still talking to you!"

He was screaming and following her to the riverbank. When they got to the beach, he shouted again:

"You can't just...!"

But he stopped in his tracks. He was standing maybe eight meters from her, when she started to undress, not looking in his direction. Her movements were sure and casual, just as if he, a stranger, wasn't standing just behind her. She ordered her clothing and went to the river.

When she started to splash water around her and on her body, to get used to its, chilly, temperature, his thoughts wandered in a highly dangerous direction.

Her tights, with perfect cleavage between them, then the ripe arse and hips, later the waist, her nicely-shaped breasts and long, impossibly long neck, at the end: the red head – she disappeared under water. Gods... why did it take her so long? Every inch of this exquisite alabaster skin took its time to finally hide from my eyes. Even the scars: on her left tight and back, they only added to the pure perfection of the view in front of me. I want her. I want to fuck her right here and right now. But this is a terrible idea... Still, is she just swimming?... Oh, gods! Don't spread those legs. I've been dying for her almost every single night since I had spoken to her for the first time... And after this... I will never sleep again.

He hid his face behind his hands to gather himself, but he couldn't. Some masochistic need made him look at her again. She, on the other hand, paid him no mind, just swimming leisurely in the water. After maybe ten minutes of this torture, he noticed, that she is coming back to the riverbank. He observed the same process in reverse. Her hair was soaking wet and the water was dripping from her breasts, stomach and womb. He knew, that he shouldn't but still... he observed her not averting his gaze.

But she casually went to her shirt and bent for it.

I can't breathe. Why would you do something like that in front of a stranger?! Have you no shame at all?!

Then, she stood straight, looking at the water and put the shirt on, buttoning it, to cover most of her upper body. The shirt ended just below her bottom. After she was done, she turned around and looked at him with rage. She took a few steps to stand maybe one meter from him and asked in a cold, demanding voice:

"What do you want? Do you want us to leave? You are acting like a child and I am tired of it. What it is that you want from me?"

"You" – he stated in a husky voice looking her in the eyes.

"What?!" – she asked with confusion.

"I want you" – he stated, almost whispered, but in a voice so lustful, that her face changed from confused to pensive and then curious, fascinated: as if he was a riddle she was trying to solve.

And she did, in a matter of seconds, approaching him and standing within the reach of his hands. Then, she raised her left hand and touched his cheek. He still didn't move, but heard his own elevated blood pressure in his ears. He felt, that he desired her so painfully, that it almost made him shiver. But her gesture caught him off guard and he hesitated for a long while before he reacted. Too long for her. She stood on her toes and what she did next, he would never forget. She kissed his jaw, his cheek resting her lips near his ear, so he could hear her heavy breathing. While on his chest, he could almost feel her elevated heartbeat.

Now, he couldn't stop himself, even if he wanted to. His left hand moved to grab her bottom and the right to trail the line of her spine hidden under the shirt. She leaned to his touch and moaned softly, letting her head fall back and leaving her lips slightly open.

I can't. I shouldn't. But... I already have her in my arms, melting under my touch. Fuck...

Then, she looked him in the eyes. Her usually flint-grey eyes were now almost black with her pupils dilated and on her cheeks crept a crimson red blush. Absent-mindedly, he moved his hand from her bottom to her entrance and found her already wet. Still, without a single thought in his mind, he moved his hand to her clitoris and back again. Lower muscles in her body were clenching gently and her eye-lids closed at the sensation.

Oh, luned. Make that sound again and I won't stop myself.

Obviously, she moaned loudly, again. He shut his eyes for a second, but grabbed roughly her right tight lifting her leg to put it on his waist and pulled her closer to his body, while his right hand moved to her womb to continue finger-fucking her. They were still standing, but soon, she clung to him, barely holding herself with trembling arms dug into his shoulders. Just a moment later, she panted to his ear, her inner muscles clenched violently around his fingers and she moaned with satisfaction. They rested like that for a moment. Her next movement, he added to the list of things, he would never forget: she removed his hand from herself, brought it to her mouth and licked it, looking him straight in the eyes.

He didn't think, didn't move, didn't even breathe. He was dumbfounded and so utterly lost in his own desire, that he didn't expect to have it in himself, to do, what he did next. She already removed his weapons, coat and started to work on his belt. But he pushed her gently from himself saying:

"It is a terrible idea" – with a husky and shaking voice.

"What?!" – she asked slightly surprised.

"We shouldn't."

"And who is to tell us what we should and shouldn't do?"

"I am telling you: we can't."

"Was it an order?" – she mocked him, but he didn't reply so she continued: – "Shouldn't... now can't... you are losing your arguments... And from what I felt and I still see quite plainly: you can and you want. As to telling me anything with this quasi-commanding, but shaking with desire voice: you are no commander of mine, commander" – she said with a teasing smile. – "I am a pirate. I always get what I want."

"No."

"No? OK, as you wish" – she agreed, but did exactly the opposite: she neared to him again and took off his shirt.

Her fingertips were tracing his back and sides when she started to suck on his earlobe. It was his time to moan, deeply and loudly. Then, the third thing happened, which he added to his list of things she did, to catch him totally off guard. He lost control the moment he felt her breath on his neck and heard her whisper:

"Take me."

Wh..? H...? I...

At first, his thoughts transformed into an incoherent mass and then, he stopped thinking at all. He lifted her up, by her bottom and knelt with her in his arms. She laid on her back and watched him with a tilted head and a raised eyebrow, as he was removing his longsword, his belt, and was pulling down his pants. He aligned with her, with the tip of his length teasing her entrance, but didn't push at once. He caught both of her hands and held them above her head with his left hand, while the other encircled her tight and pulled her left leg up almost to the level of her stomach. Then, he looked at her. She was smiling at him, teasingly, her eyes were dazed with her desire, but still daring him to push. So he did. She was tight... very tight... so tight in a matter of fact, that he was seriously surprised, that he didn't cum right then, as aroused as he was. But, thankfully, he didn't. He noticed her head tilting backwards and her heavy breathing. So he waited patiently. He started to kiss her neck, her ear, her cheek, but then, she moved her hips up to him. Soon, they were moving together in a steady rhythm.

Her face captivated him and it became the only coherent thought he had in his mind. The moment he started to accelerate his movements, she moved her hips up and the heel of her free leg down on his back, to block him. He looked at her confused, but saw her almost vicious smirk. This commanding move was so utterly wicked, that he obliged. They went back to their rhythm and he realised her hands to put his own hand to a better use – on her clitoris. The position was far from comfortable, but... It was more than worth it. A few moments later, she dug her fingertips deep into his shoulders and came looking him in the eyes. He followed immediately, but still, moved gently throughout all of her orgasm. Or orgasms?

Yeah... Complicated.

They rested in this position for a while, both panting heavily. He gathered himself first and knelt in front of her, looking in disbelieve at her gorgeously spread body. But he averted his gaze quickly.

I promised myself I wouldn't fuck her and I did exactly the opposite. Great. And I want more. Idiot.

She rolled herself to her side, to the half-lying position and rested her cheek on a bent arm. In this position, she was observing his internal struggle with a cold curiosity. When he looked at her again, her eyebrow was raised and she had a mocking smile on her face, as she asked:

"Are you second-guessing yourself now? How can you lead your men if you overthink everything all the time?"

"Are you undermining my position now?"

"How could I? I'm not your subordinate nor you are mine. I'm just observing your internal struggle and I feel for you. But you know... I'm starting to think, that maybe you still see me as a filthy, disgusting dh'oine? Is that it?"

"Margo... Stop!" – he interrupted before she said more – "Obviously not. It's not that."

"So what?"

"You are a dangerous woman Margo and I cannot read you nor do I understand you."

"Ah... control-freak lost control?"

"What? You are a hypocrite. You are exactly the same."

"Yes, that's why I never ever lose control."

"And this was what?"

"Decision: to make love with you. I was abstinent for too long and, truly, I was more than happy, when you said what you did before the finger-fucking" – she chuckled. – "I don't fuck my subordinates nor my second in command" – she looked pointedly at him – "therefore, I was really, really horny so..."

"Did you lead me here on purpose?"

"Well... do you think I would have undressed as I did, if I hadn't had at least considered this outcome?" – she laughed heartedly. – "You know nothing, Iorveth."

He was watching her, thinking hard.

And did you plan this?

In a blink of an eye, he moved towards her.


MARGO

Blathe 1264

late evening

the riverbank of the Adalatte

Kerack

She yelped in surprise when he roughly rolled her on her stomach and she felt his strong left hand between her shoulder blades. His right hand went to her womb and started to move, drawing lines and circles on her clitoris. Soon, only soft moans were emerging from her lips and her thoughts became blurred. When she was almost on the edge, he lifted her lower body with the hand, which had already been on her womb and put his left hand on the ground next to her, to steady his own body. Her legs were tightly together when he entered her.

This sensation caused her to gasp and moan simultaneously. He waited again, but the moment she pushed gently towards him, he took control and was moving both hers and his bodies. This time, he was changing the rhythm. When she was almost on her peak, he slowed down and removed his hand from her womb, to hold her by the stomach. She was panting, balancing on the edge of ecstasy. After a while, she realised, that this was exactly what he wanted. This wasn't so much about his own pleasure as about her losing control. Teaching a lesson. But she was too old for this game, so she clenched all of the muscles in her lower body and used all of the power, her body could muster in this position, to accelerate their rhythm. When he realised, what she was doing, it has been already too late... she felt him reaching his peak inside her and he groaned. Then, she came as well, twitching violently under him. They both collapsed on the ground gently. He slid out of her and rolled her body around to see a victorious grin on her face.

"You are a spoilsport" – he stated looking down at her.

"You are trying to get ahead of yourself" – she replied.

"This was..."

"Brilliant? Thank you" – at her response he laughed warmly, genuinely.

Just then, she saw a new emotion on his face: it was warm and soft. She won and he surrendered much more than this fight. He surrendered himself to her: through these impossibly green eyes, she saw his heart and soul. She saw everything, that she so desperately didn't want to see.

No... this was just a game. Don't...

The moment he leaned to her, to kiss her, she said:

"I need another bath" – with a chuckle and moved from him to go back to the water. – "Are you coming?" – she called, not looking at him right now.

He joined her, soon, to catch her in the water and he held her firmly, making her look at him. She did, with a cold expression. His face displayed confusion, but soon, it was replaced by worry... uncertainty. Then, she kissed him, deeply and passionately. When they separated, they both smirked at each other. But... there was something in his eyes. Something, that even she couldn't define.

They dressed up and walked in silence to the camp, not looking at each other. This awkwardness was the last thing they needed, so she started:

"There are still two more locations, yes?"

"Yes... We need to start scouting tomorrow. There is a lot to do..."

They came to the camp deep in their conversation. She thought, that no one would see anything different about them, but she was wrong. When they approached their men, it was Quinlan who fished a small sack out of his pocket and threw it in Ronja's direction.

"You bet?" – Margo asked in disbelieve.

"Yeah... that either you kill each other or... well... you are both alive, so... we won."

Margo sat next to her and started to laugh with the rest, but Iorveth headed to his tent, silent.


YEAVINN

Blathe 1264

the next morning

the camp

near the Adalatte river

Kerack

He was observing Margo, as she was tending to her swords at dawn, sitting by the fire. He knew, that she did not sleep in the tent with Iorveth. But... he got to know her enough, to see, that she was thinking hard about something. He came to her with food for both of them and sat next to her.

"Yeavinn" – she greeted him with a relief. – "Thank you, fraere."

"You are very welcome. It's good to have someone here, who wakes up like me: with the sun" – he replied merrily.

"But I'm not as cheerful, as you are in the mornings, that's for sure" – she looked at him with a warm smile.

He was looking at her intently for a long while until she asked:

"Yeavinn? Are you all right?"

"You are a desirable woman, Margo" – he stated pensively.

It is true... Her youth... Something so tempting for any of us, even if we are just a little bit older. But it's more: her fertility – the promise her body, made as if for this and only this purpose, is displaying before our eyes... Such a strange thing, but it's there. Still... she is not Toru.

"Hmm... I guess, that you are not the first one to notice" – she said laughing, as if they were joking, but when he didn't react, she continued a little more tensed: – "Yeavinn..."

"No, I mean... Don't take me wrong, I meant what I said. But you are not her" – he smiled gently.

"I understand. She is all yours, now."

"Well, since you've come, yes. But..."

"Hmm...?"

"Maybe you can help me to make it a more permanent solution?" – he asked grinning.

"How?" – she asked with a mischief in her eyes.

He felt, that they were observed, so he leaned and whispered to her ear. They conversed quietly for a while and at the end, they both laughed playfully. At that, Iorveth came to them with a tensed expression, but pretended, that nothing had happened.

When Margo left, he looked at Iorveth, who was already looking at him with an angry face. He just smiled gently and asked:

"Do you remember, what you promised me more than a year ago, Iorveth?" – he observed the younger Seidhe first tensing and then, giving up.

"Yes. I remember."

"So you wouldn't mind, would you, fraere?" – he asked almost innocently.

"If she agrees..."

"She has already expressed her interest" – Yaevinn stated with a smirk.

"Oh... Well, I'm going to hunt. I'll be back in the afternoon. Keep the eye for the camp before Toru wakes up, would you?"

Iorveth uttered all of this and headed into the forest, not waiting for the reply. He was raging and confused.

But he deserved that.

In the late afternoon, he was standing between the trees, observing the camp. Iorveth walked in with two rabbits and a pheasant in his hands. He headed to the fire, where Viggo and Niklas were sitting. The moment he approached them, he asked:

"Have you seen Margo?"

"In Yeavinn's tent. But if I were you, I wouldn't go there" – Niklas replied with a smirk.

Just then, even from his place, he heard, but barely, a sweet and soft female moan. The voice was unmistakable. It was Margo.

On Iorveth's face hundred emotions were visible. But mostly: rage and helplessness. He threw his game to the ground, sat and tried to focus on preparing it for cooking, but instead, he cut himself in the hand:

"Fuck!" – he exclaimed and went to the tent for a bandage.

After the hand was secured, he started to pace, glancing dangerously in the direction of Yeavinn's tent.

Then, another moan came. Iorveth left and disappeared into his own tent, to emerge back after a few minutes. He just couldn't find a place for himself. It lasted for another half an hour. Then, as Iorveth was standing right in front of the tent, Margo emerged with a satisfied smile, looked at him with a raised eyebrow and passed him approaching her men. Iorveth was watching her probably biting his own tongue, but said nothing. Later, Toruviel emerged and tilted her head smiling, but went to sit next to Margo. Iorveth looked back at the tent.

Yaevinn approached slowly from his place between the trees and stated, before Iorveth even noticed him:

"Now, fraere" – the younger Seidhe turned around and his face displayed utter confusion. But Yeavinn continued slowly: – "Now, you know how it feels like. But this" – he motioned to his tent – "it was only in your head. Next time, it won't be. Next time, I will seduce your woman, if only to watch you pace like a fool again."

"I get it. You played me, but..." – Iorveth sighed and looked him straight in the eyes – "you were right to. How did you persuade her to do it?"

"By breakfast. She didn't need much persuasion, though. She has mischief in her veins."

They both laughed heartedly and Iorveth started to walk in Margo's direction when Yeavinn called:

"Iorveth!"

"Hmm?"

"Just... think twice, before... She is already a sor'ca to us. But... don't destroy the balance. You know? Never mind. Forget I started" – he added looking at the confusion on Iorveth's face.

They both headed to the fire to properly prepare the meal. Working in silence, he observed Iorveth for a while. The younger Seidhe visibly relaxed and his attention was drawn to the task at hand, but not completely. He was glancing at Margo from time to time, but the woman paid him no mind. Yeavinn admitted internally, that their dynamics was quite unusual, but... somehow... it looked as if it may actually work.


IORVETH

Blathe 1264

the camp

near the Adalatte river

Kerack

For three days after the whole Yeavinn situation, Margo was avoiding him. Maybe it was an accident, maybe it wasn't, still, they barely spoke. But tomorrow would be Gealach lán. Her crew planned to disappear this time, to attend a brothel in Gors Velen, but she... he didn't know and it irritated him. Tonight, they all sat at the bonfire, dancing, drinking wine and conversing. He heard My'aena asking Ragnar:

"Do you sing?"

"I'm a pirate, obviously, I do."

"Will you?"

"Toru, may I borrow your lute?"

"Sure."

He took the instrument and started, but all the crew joined him at once:

"The King and his men
stole the Queen from her bed
and bound her in her bones
the seas be ours and by the powers
where we will we'll roam."

The song was dark, even he felt some strange, inexplicably dark feeling, hearing them sing. But he gathered himself quickly and sat next to Margo, who, upon seeing him, smiled gently and asked:

"What do you think?"

"Dark and twisted. Exactly as I expected" – they both chuckled. – "Do you plan to stay tomorrow?"

"I do. Yes" – she answered not looking at him.

"Do you plan to come to my tent tonight?" – he asked casually.

"I have a watch."

"Obviously."

They were sitting in silence. But when Toru played something more adequate for dancing, he extended his hand to Margo and she took it, smiling. This woman... she could dance: she was whirling, moving sensually and wildly. When he noticed her wide smile and eyes glittering in the light of the fire, he just kissed her, forgetting about everything around them.

On the next evening, he was determined to find her and drag her into the forest, but as he emerged from his tent, she was already there, waiting for him with a blanket and a bottle of wine.

Well... one step ahead, aren't you?

They went to a different spot on the riverbank, but here, there was no beach, just rocks emerging from the water and then meadow. The moon was shining on one spot at the meadow, they just arrived to. He led her there, exactly to the moonlight. When he turned her around to kiss her, the blanket and the bottle fell to the ground, completely forgotten. This time, they were undressing each other slowly and sensually. They took their time, brushing their skin against each other. When she fully undressed him, she pushed him gently to the ground and followed him shortly. Her hands and lips were exploring him gently, as she was tracing every inch of his skin. She made him moan when her tongue licked his length and she bit him on his tights and then sides of his belly. He twitched under her passionate, but harsh caress.

He knew well, what she would do, the moment she straddled him, but still – he smiled. She lowered her body on him and took him inside her in a swift movement. For a moment he was wondering, if she did it too soon, but he stopped immediately, feeling how easily she covered him and she waited just for a second, before she leaned back and put her hands on both sides of his legs. Then, she started to move up and down, not even looking at him. She was changing her pace and angle from time to time, but still, didn't spare him a single glance. After a while, he moved his legs up to her back and his hand to her clitoris. This granted him her attention. She looked down with a smile and moved her hands to grab his sides, clenching him almost painfully. He didn't even try to move up to her to kiss her, knowing, that she wouldn't allow it. She came with a loud moan and a spasm, which caused her fingernails to dug deep into his skin. He hissed, but she paid him no mind, reaching her peak again. Then, she positioned herself in the right angle and paused, just before accelerating her movements, allowing him to come as well, very soon. Only in the corner of his mind, he noticed her smile as she was observing him intently. They rested like that for a while, just looking at each other in silence.

As her panting became slower, he moved gently his right hand, which never left her clitoris. He felt her inner muscles responding and she smiled at him again, biting her lower lip. She was moving lazily on him, up and down again. When she playfully tilted her head, he grabbed her bottom and hip with both hands and rolled them around. She yelped softly and chuckled looking up at him. He straightened up to kneel, not sliding out of her and put both of her ankles on his left shoulder, resuming their movements. She was tightening, soon and the moment his finger touched her clitoris they both moaned and came together smiling at each other. As his thoughts became coherent, he looked down: her pale, sweaty skin was shining in the moonlight and her breasts were moving up and down quickly. He was enchanted with this view for a while, before he separated her legs and put them down to both sides of his body, only to lean in and kiss her parted lips.

His hands were roaming through her body and she was responding to his every touch, as if her senses were focused only on him. Her eyes were closed and when he stopped kissing her, she left her lips slightly parted, breathing heavily. She was lying relaxed, allowing him to explore her body, to tease her and devour her as he desired. They stayed like that for a time, but when he was sucking her nipple and squeezed her sides just above her pelvis, she arched to him and moaned, opening her eyes to see his pleased smirk.

As they came back to the camp, he looked at her and extended his hand.

"Come to sleep in my tent" – he stated casually.

"I'll be fine in my own" – she replied, kissed him chastely and disappeared.

He stood there for a long time watching her tent.

What is wrong with you?


MARGO

Feainn 1264

near Brokilon

Verden

Two months of scouting and dynamic attacks paid off: Knights of the Order of the Flaming Rose were too afraid to make camps or try to attack outside the main outpost. The Scoia'tael planned the attack on the outpost, located South from Kerack, for some time by now. They didn't have numbers, but... if everything was to go smoothly, it wouldn't be a problem.

They approached at night. Iorveth and archers were ready to shot burning arrows and Margo with pirates was to cut the escape. But first, they needed a rouse to lure them outside the walls of the tower, they stayed in. Thankfully, a bigger part of the building was wooden, so... fire would do the job. The arrows flew and the building started to burn. Soon, the knights started to run in turmoil, as the Scoia'tael shot the arrows to leave only one route of escape – into a trap. They ran straight to pirates and the fight started. It was hectic. After a while, Scoia'tael joined the close-combat and it gave them the advantage. As the battle was nearing its end, Margo saw Yngve fighting with three knights, so she ran to him immediately, but she was too late. One of the knights fell, but before he died, he pushed his sword into Yngve's stomach. He was one of two casualties that night, the second was Quinlan.

After the fight, they took what they could from the fallen knights and gathered the bodies into a pile, which was set on fire. As to their fallen comrades, they prepared quickly a pyre, as the fire from the outpost was already visible, it was not too risky to burn them, as it should be done. They all gathered and stood in silence for a while. Margo moved to stand by Yngve's body and said the same line she always repeated when they lost a comrade:

"It was a good day to die, my friends. Go to Valhalla now, to wait for us at Odin's table. You proved to be worthy of the honour hundred of times. In fight, in life and in death you always chose courage, there is nothing you should be ashamed of. Now, feast with your ancestors and wait for us, cause we will join you, soon" – she paused, looked at Iorveth and said: – "I don't know..."

"We said our words in our hearts, however, your speech... he would like it, as well" – he replied. – "It was him, who said to me for the first time: Ayd f'haeil moen Hirjeth taenverde."

They smiled at each other with sadness visible in their eyes. Somehow, in some strange way she felt, that he feels exactly the same.

It's true is better to die with a sword in your hand but... they were our men and they died on our order. We failed them and if we had a chance, we would gladly take their place. Without hesitation.

On the next evening, they were lying, entangled, in his tent, on his bed. The warmth of his body was radiating pleasantly and she was listening to his relaxed breath. Then, she moved and started to get up. He caught her arm and pulled her back to him. When she looked him in the eyes, he said in a calm and warm voice:

"Stay. It was a hard day... How long it is like that? A month? You can sleep here, I don't snore, Margo" – he chucked, but her expression was blank.

"I like sleeping on my own, Iorveth" – she replied.

Oh, I see, that you are thinking hard. Just stop.

He let go of her hand, but was still watching her intently. When he spoke, his voice was concerned:

"Why are you so afraid?"

Fuck you...

"What?! You don't plan to kick me in my sleep, do you?" – she joked, but her smile didn't reach her eyes.

Still, afraid even more of this conversation, she laid next to him and allowed him to hug her gently.

He was deeply asleep, soon. Then, she moved from him and tried to sleep as well, but she couldn't. The feeling was haunting her. The feeling, that she will lose, again and that she can fall too deeply, for the Seidhe now sleeping serenely at her side. She was watching him sleep for a long time, before she gathered herself and left the tent.

In the morning, she was avoiding him. She knew, that he would try to talk about her departure, but it was the last thing she wanted to do. Around noon, he approached her casually and smiled, saying:

"Margo, I shouldn't have asked you to stay last night."

She was shocked and as she tried to gather herself to give him a coherent reply, he just kissed her, smiled again and left.


IORVETH

Feainn 1264

the camp

near the Adalatte river

Kerack

He always loved summer. But when you wake up already sweaty... it is not the best morning. Or maybe? Margo was nestled next to him, still sleeping serenely. Her instincts in the night were better than his: she was completely uncovered and naked. His left hand was wrapped around her and he didn't dare to move it. Since the night, when she had ran away from him, she was staying to sleep in his tent more and more often, for the last two weeks, every night. She was even coming to him just to lay together and go to sleep, no sex was required any longer. This was a progress. He didn't even want to think, why she was so afraid, so distant, so... oppose to commitment? He learned to take it for granted and enjoy every evening, night and morning when she took her baby steps towards him.

For him, her presence became like air. She was the most natural part of his life right now. They both learned how to keep this balance and to move forward at the same time. He wanted it. Wanted her to stay, but knew, that probably one day, she would say her goodbye. For a time? For good? He decided, to leave these questions unanswered for now and resumed watching her sleep and listening to her breathing. She moved soon and turned around to face him, waking up. When her eyelids opened, she kissed him chastely, getting up:

"Come! We promised, to hunt in the morning and it's already late... Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I was busy."

"With what?"

"Watching you."

"You are an idiot" – she stated shaking her head, but grinned at him chuckling.

A week later, to his surprise, he woke up alone with a small stone in his bed.

What the fuck?!

He dressed and emerged outside. The cold wind from the North was howling and the material of his tent was slating violently. When he looked around, he saw Toruviel approaching him with a tensed face. He knew even before she said:

"They're gone."

She left me without so much as: Va fail. Obviously.


Moderato

GERALT

Velen 1265

Harviken

Faroe

He was standing in the jarl Holger's house, watching young Halbjorn, who was occupied with welcoming the guests, standing at his father's side. It was a year and a half since his brother died and the boy was still adjusting to his new role. When Carnelian was here, it was easier. Geralt looked absent-mindedly at the door remembering as he found her to share the grievous news.

Feainn 1264

the Scoia'tael camp

near the Adalatte river

Kerack

He saw the camp from afar and approached quietly the nearest guard to his right. He was surprised, but not too much, as he recognised Ronja, a member of the crew, whose captain he was looking for right now. So, not hesitating for long, he approached her with his hands high in the act of surrender. She recognised him almost immediately and exclaimed enthusiastically:

"Geralt!"

"Ronja! We will talk later, but right now, I'm looking for Carrie. It's urgent" – he stated in a quiet voice.

She was observing him intently for a while, before she stated:

"She is not alone. The dark-green tent, second to the right from the willow."

"OK. I will wake her up."

He sneaked to the pointed tent and realised, that indeed: Carrie wasn't alone. To the contrary: she was sleeping in an embrace of a Seidhe somehow older than her, but still very young. They were both naked and barely covered. He was pondering for a while, but he knew her well enough, to first attempt to wake only her. He took a small stone and threw it in her cheek. She woke up and looked up at him. He saw shock and confusion on her face, before he left to wait with Ronja, giving her space to dress up.

She followed shortly and hugged him closely:

"Geralt! Good to see you, but... to what do I owe this nightly visit?"

"Carrie... I am bringing grievous news... it's your brother, Trygve."

"What?"

"He is dead."

She stood gaping at him for a while, but quickly ordered:

"Ronja, wake everyone up. We are leaving to Faroe at once. Don't wake anyone else."

"Aye."

The second in command disappeared and in fifteen minutes, they were all leaving the camp. He saw Carrie looking back just once, with an expressionless face, before she quickened her pace.

He remembered, that the first and the only time he saw her tears, was when they arrived at Harviken and she asked her father to show her, where the ship with Trygve's body was sailed to his last journey. Later, she was standing alone on the quay, looking East and sobbing. He didn't dare to approach her and they've never spoken about it.

Now, she was gone, again, and this time, as many times before – nothing could stop her from getting what she wanted, they all knew it well. And what she wanted this time was revenge.


HALBJORN

Velen 1265

Harviken

Faroe

Since the tragic feast, a long time has passed, but many reminders of it were present in the hall of his father's house. A taster for one, Ulf, young man from his own clan, who volunteered for the job. Everything, what the jarl's family ate, was tested first for any poison. The supplies and food were double checked. All the life in Faroe seemed to be circling around possible assassination. And it all started a year ago when his sister came back home from the raid.

Velen 1264

Harviken

Faroe

He observed her standing on the harbour and looking at the horizon. She was motionless for a few hours until, after dusk, she came home with a stern face.

"Father, we need to talk. Only the family and Mousesack" – she stated calmly.

Hearing her words, everyone left the hall, but their family and the druid. When they were alone, she asked:

"How did he die?"

"Poison" – Mousesack answered. – "It's called cantarella."

"I heard about it. Woman's weapon or... Nilfgaardian" – Carrie replied slowly.

"Do you think, that...?" – his father trailed off.

"Did he have any quarrel with a mistress?" – Carrie continued.

"You know, that he loved Muriel greatly. There was no mistress, sis" – Halbjorn answered.

"And Muriel?" – Carrie continued.

"You don't think, that she... She is a family, she had no reason and we all know, that she loved him probably even more" – his mother replied strongly. – "She is devastated, barely eats, never leaves their rooms. She even wanted to go with him, but... we didn't allow it. She is so young..."

"I just wanted to hear that, mother. I... trust her. But people change. So: it leaves only one explanation" – Carrie stated.

"Nilfgaard" – their father finished.

"Yes. Emhyr var Emreis."

"Why? Why would he risk an international conflict to kill a son of one of the jarls? Wouldn't he go for Svanrige, if it was him?" – Mousesack asked. – "Maybe one of the jarls... Madman is..." – he trailed off, but was interrupted:

"Exactly, we're already looking for internal enemies. We are doing the whole job for the Emperor. Emhyr is testing the limits, he wants to know how much damage he can do, before attacking. With Cintra taken a year ago, the Isles are an obvious target, as valid as Temeria and Lyria and Rivia. He is weakening us, to take us one-by-one. We cannot let him. Father, gather the meeting of jarls and inform the king. We must stay united at any cost" – Carrie said with a coldness in her voice, but also with strength and determination, which surprised even her brother.

"I agree with our daughter" – Kerstin, their mother stated. – "But what then?"

"I will go to Nilfgaard and find proof. If Emhyr is planning to divide us and conquer, other Northern kings must know, too. But to speak to them, Bran an Tuirseach will need more, than just my intuition. The North must be warned, that the storm is coming, if we are to stand a chance."

"Margaret, did you learn something more in Kerack?" – Holger Blackhand, their father, asked with suspicion.

Carrie was looking at him for a long time, but then, she averted her gaze to the fire in the middle of the hall. He saw, that she closed her eyes and clenched her jaw for a while, taking few deep breaths. When she spoke, she had a heavy voice:

"Yes, Father. In the North the Aen Seidhe are preparing to fight. They are called Scoia'tael..."

"We heard about the Squirrels" – Halbjorn interrupted her – "but they are no more than small bands of trouble-makers."

"No, brother... They are led by elves from the Blue Mountains. They coordinate their actions and they chose the leader – Isengrim Faoiltiarna. I haven't met him, but from what we heard... they are preparing for a full-scale war. And... I don't believe, that it's an accident, that they started their operations just before Nilfgaardian attack on Cintra" – Carrie stated in a grievous voice.

"You think, that they will support Emhyr, if he attacks the North?" – Kerstin asked in disbelieve.

"I don't think so, mum. I know so" – she said with finality in her voice. – "Bran shall warn Foltest and Meve, as soon as possible."

A long silence fell in the hall. They felt the incoming storm and they knew, that it will consume them all...

The first meeting of jarls took place on An Skellig five months later. He was there and listened to shocked reactions of other jarls when his father shared his daughter's suspicions. He even admitted to everyone, that they had had their suspicions about other Skelliger, but now he had none. It was Madman Lugos, who pulled him in a brotherly embrace after this confession. Halbjorn understood, that the jarls had their quarrels, but were ready to stand against the common enemy, strong and united, despite it all.

Now, the second meeting was to take place in four months here, on Faroe and everyone hoped, that Carnelian would be back with her proof by then.


VENDELA

Lammas 1265

Tarnhann

Nilfgaard

She was standing on a balcony of one of the exquisite and elegant houses located in the very centre of Tarnhann. It was midnight, when she looked again, through the window, inside the room. It wasn't easy to be on the guard duty, while her captain was having sex with another woman. Not that she shared Margo's taste for women, she was far from being bisexual, but still... Her captain was now lying leisurely on the table, while the golden-blond haired woman was sitting in front of her and was pleasuring her with both of her hands and mouth. Margo was arching to her by now and twitching violently. There was no doubt as to the fact, that both were enjoying themselves immensely. After they were finished, the other woman, Cantarella, moved to kiss Margo and they changed the roles, however, both were now on the table.

It doesn't look too comfortable, but... well... They are too busy to realise it, I guess.

Two hours later, Margo met her crew in the stables and they were soon galloping South. Far from the city, they stopped and the captain said:

"Cantarella suggested, that we may be looking for Eilert van Wittenberg."

"Did you...?" – Viggo asked.

"No, obviously not. But she spoke about his visit to Skellige, asking me, whether I had met him there."

"Well, it is a clue. Where can we find him?"

"This is the biggest problem – in the capital, the City of Golden Towers."

"We cannot go there. It's a suicide" – Vendela stated.

"But do we have a choice?" – Leif asked.

"No. We don't" – Margo answered in concerned voice. – "She said, that he enjoys sailing. We must go under cover, commandeer a Nordling ship, for example – under the banner of Cidaris and try to meet him in the port. It may work, but we must be prepared for the worst."

"Margo, why is he so important? I don't understand... I understand revenge, but..." – Niklas asked with resignation.

"Niklas, you know that I hate it, but the less you know the better. I never hid things from you before, but... it must be like this now."

Vendela looked at her captain in disbelieve. Something changed and still, she felt, that more things are going to change in the future. As they made their plans and started to prepare for the road, she sighed heavily. Raiding and messing around was one thing, they all enjoyed it immensely, but politics... It felt as if they grew up more in last months, than in all the previous years of their lives.


EILERT

Velen 1265

Night Breeze Tavern

City of Golden Towers

Nilfgaard

Sailing with Lisbeth turned out to be more than a fascinating experience. She was not the most skilled sailor, but she listened to his orders and followed them eagerly. But, it was her gentle smile, filled with adoration, what enchanted him. Right now, she was kneeling on the rear deck trying hard to fasten the hawser:

"Eilert! I can't... this cleat hitch is beyond me..." – she called him resignedly.

"Come, ma mienne, I will show you again" – he said, sitting next to her with a wide smile.

"I've learned more from you in these two weeks than from my father's crew in the last month. They despise me" – she stated in a sad voice.

"You are the merchant's daughter, they will always feel like that about you. Your status, position, it will always make you better than them. They may be simple, but they know things like that" – he said slowly, trying to comfort her.

"I guess. You are always right, my captain" – Lisbeth answered looking up at him and leaning to him for a kiss.

He observed her on their way to the tavern. Her medium-cut, red, curly hair was falling graciously on her shoulders in a mess and the small nose was slightly red from the wind. Her body was tempting, so tempting under her light, dark green dress and black, ornamented coat.

Maybe today? Maybe it is time to take her to my place? Isn't almost a month a time enough to show my respect?

They were conversing lightly in a tavern, they had already eaten and now, both were finishing their wine. She stated sweetly:

"You are a great teacher."

"Thank you, ma mienne. I'm doing my best" – he smiled at her fondly, while she was looking at him intently, biting slightly her lower lip, before she said:

"I bet, that there is much more you can teach me, captain..."

He looked into those grey, almost innocent eyes, which were now looking teasingly and hesitantly at the same time. But her voice was filled with desire.

Captain... if you call me like that when... oh... I would have you right here and right now, little bird.

"Would you go with me to my place? I guess, that there, we will have more... pleasing environment."

"With pleasure" – she answered getting up, allowing him to help her dress in the coat and gently taking his hand.

At last. I waited a painfully long time to have you.

At his house, they didn't even talk. Already at the door, he started to kiss and undress her, while she was giving herself to him eagerly. In the bedroom she removed his pants and looked him deep in the eyes whispering:

"Oh... captain..."

A moment later, she pushed him to the bed and knelt in front of him, taking him into her mouth. He panted heavily, but thought for a second, if he should let go. She, as if reading his mind, looked at him and smiled, putting one of her hands below her lips on his length and other on his testicles. Needless to say, he lost control quickly and came into her mouth. As she crawled up and knelt next to him, he looked up and said:

"I'm not sure if there is much you need to learn, ma mienne. At least in bedroom."

"There are always things, that you can learn, captain" – she said seductively.

Upon hearing that, he got up and stood at the bed's edge, turning her around to see her ripe bottom and beautifully spread tights. He stood behind her, but started with pleasuring her with his hands. The moment she was wet enough, he entered her and grabbed her hips possessively. She moaned with satisfaction and tilted her hips up. Soon, he was plundering her with abandon, hearing only her loud, satisfied moans. As he came, she twitched violently under him and was panting heavily. When he slid out of her, she collapsed on the bed. He moved to her and looked at her face, as she stated:

"Hmm... That was new" – with a wide grin.

"Did you like it?" – he asked with a teasing smile of his own.

"I've never come so hard before" – she said sweetly and chuckled.

They were lying together for a while, kissing and touching a little, but he decided to go to sleep. She, obviously, stayed, lying her head trustingly on his shoulder.

I really like you, little bird. I will keep you for a while, maybe even longer?

When he woke up, still naked, he was tied to his own bed and his mouth was gagged. He looked around to see Lisbeth searching through his papers. He started to scream, but his voice was muffled. However, she heard him and turned around. She looked the same, but everything about her was different. Her eyes were cold and demanding, her face was tensed as she approached him saying:

"You are a shitty lover, but even shittier spy. I didn't cum, wasn't even close. You think, that I'm a sprinter? Anyway, if you cannot recognise fake moans from the real, you never really cared for women you were with, but... it is not why you are going to die tonight, scum. The only question is whether you will die long and painfully or quickly. It's your choice. Just nod if you understand."

Her voice... it wasn't Lisbeth he knew, who was she? But still, he nodded slowly.

"Ah... my name is Margaret Laura from the clan Dimun, but they call me Carnelian. You killed my brother, remember? Poisoning on Faroe?" – he nodded very slowly. – "And, just for you to know, you are a shitty sailor, as well. I wanted to puke listening to all the shit you think you know about sailing, but truth to be told: you are as green as grass and a land rat. The Skelliger crew would throw such a captain to the sea on the first day, because in Skellige: your worth is not measured by status, but by your deeds. The Skelliger crew will follow you to the hell and back again, if you are worth it. If not, no one will be surprised to hear about your 'accidental' death at the sea" – she said and smiled viciously.

Hearing that, his blood froze, just before it started to flow from various cuts she made when he didn't answer her questions by nodding or shaking his head fast enough. The last thing he heard was:

"So, you killed my brother on the order of the Emperor, in order to cause quarrel on the Isles. And as to this map, I'll find a commando there, the commando, which already agreed to work for Nilfgaard. Who is the commander?"

He shook his head and she believed him.

"If so, I have no further use of you."

She approached him and slit his throat. Then, he faded away for good, looking in those flint-grey eyes, which now were everything but innocent.


VIGGO

Velen 1265

harbour

City of Golden Towers

Nilfgaard

At dawn, they were running through the port, dragging Niklas' dead body to the ship. When they got there, the captain shouted:

"Viggo, to the sail! Ragnar cut the hawser! We must run!"

They managed, but it was close, too close. They have been already sailing on the waters of the Great Sea to the North as they saw the pursuit: four ships with golden suns on black sails. But it is not easy to take over Skelliger, even sailing on the Nordling ship. They manoeuvred for many hours, changing directions, but they lost them at the coasts of Gemmera. After dusk, they all went silent and the captain stated, looking at the dead body of their comrade:

"It was a good day to die" – she paused. – "Now, go to drink and feast with our ancestors. There is nothing you shall be ashamed of, cause we achieved together more than many."

"Farewell!" – they all stated and threw Niklas' body to the Sea.

There was no crying, no tears. It was a good day to die, after all.

They needed to make a stop near Tarnhann, to retrieve their drakkar, which, thankfully, was waiting untouched. They say that a boat is just a boat, but... not Svart Fiskgjuse – this ship was like a part of the crew. They were sailing on it for the last six years, from the very beginning of their adventure.

When they were packing their belongings and some spoils, he observed Ronja curiously. He was in love with her for the last six years, since the day they've met, but they never acted on it, never even spoke about it. He was far from being sure, that she felt something remotely similar to his feelings for her. When he caught her watching him sometimes, he believed, that it may all be just in his head. Only for the last year... something was different.

It even wasn't that they couldn't be together – they could. Even Margo, who was the only one he told about it, promised to accept it. He told her his story two years ago, when they were all so drunk, that he was sure, that she wouldn't remember anything the next day. But he was wrong, she did. She remembered everything. Their captain may not care for many things, but she certainly cared for her people, every single one of them.

Now, as they were getting to their drakkar, she stood at Niklas favourite sit, which was empty. She stood there for a long while completely motionless and deep in her thoughts. Losing a man was hard on her. Every single time. He knew it, they all knew it and this was a reason why, they were and would always be ready to follow her. Even to the world's end. After a time, they sailed out and at the open sea she fished a map out of her pocket and started:

"I took a map from Eilert's place. He said, that it displays the location of the Scoia'tael commando, which already agree to work for Emhyr..."

"What? The Aen Seidhe plan to ally with Nilfgaard?" – Viggo asked in disbelieve.

"Yes. I suspected it for a while. After my brother's death I realised, that Emperor may have plans. Much bigger plans, than just Cintra."

"You mean...? Skellige?"

"Maybe. Or Temeria or Lyria and Rivia? Hard to say, though... the war is coming and it's getting complicated."

"But if Aen Seidhe will fight... what...? I mean, we know them. We lived with them!" – Ronja exclaimed nervously and added: – "I don't want to..."

"Me neither" – the captain replied. – "We will fight on the sea and there is a little chance we will meet them. Still... I want to make sure first. I think, we shall go to this mysterious location..."

They went silent and sailed back home with heavy hearts. Everything was starting to get even more messed up, than they anticipated.


HALBJORN

Yule 1266

Trottheim

Faroe

Carnelian came in time with information, which confirmed beyond doubts, that she was right. Emhyr var Emreis was preparing the invasion on the Northern Realms and he planned it soon. Skelliger were ready, they fought at Cintra three years ago, at Calanthe's side and they lost. But, they learned their lesson.

For Halbjorn, Carrie's presence was a good distraction. He felt, that the weight of his new responsibilities was crushing him, along with the need for quick marriage. Now, he and his sister were sitting on the drakkar and sailing around the isle for the second time.

"You spoke a lot about responsibilities, jarls, politics, but... I doubt it's the reason, why we are sailing in circles around the isle... What is wrong?" – Carrie asked.

"I need to marry..."

"Good for you."

"Funny..."

"But you are with Vigdis a couple for... what? Two years? And she is a perfect candidate. Why do you hesitate?"

"I... thought, that I have time..."

"But you are twenty-three!"

"You are older... and no one is pushing you to marry."

"Because I have little chance to need an heir. You, on the other hand, owe me a nephew to assure, that I wouldn't need to become a jarl" – she chuckled at his expression.

"I don't like you..."

"I love you, brother."

"Oh... sis... And what do you plan to do, hmm?"

"I will go back to the Continent for the summer, bro."

"Why?"

"There is... something I need to know. I'll take my crew and my drakkar, no one else."

"I have a bad feeling about this, sis."

"I know. But... I'll regret it for the rest of my life, if I stay..."

"OK. I get it. Just... take my xenovox, Mousesack has a twin. He'll be able to come to your aid, if needed."

"Thanks. But I'll be fine" – she said and smiled warmly.

They were sailing for a while longer and he observed his sister with worry. She changed quite a lot in the last years. There was a new tension, something bothering her all the time. Before, she was never so secretive, always living her life quite in the open, not caring about anyone's opinion about her choices. Now, well... she was keeping things to herself. She seemed torn to him as well. Something happened, he knew it, but... he never asked. He was sure, that she would tell more in her own time.


Presto

MARGO

Feainn 1266

dusk

the camp

near the Ina river

Temeria

They found the camp in the shadows of the great Mahakam mountains. It was located on the foothills, near the spring of the river Ina. A strong and warm wind was blowing down from the mountains right into their faces as they climbed up. They came close to the line of sentinels and she whistled, before emerging from their shadows. She heard the answer and recognised the voice:

"Toru!"

"Margo! You are alive! And here!"

"It's good to see you too, saere!"

So this is the commando I was looking for. Iorveth is working for Nilfgaardians. Fuck...Why am I surprised? I feared it since I've found the map. Always so ambitious, always willing to go one step further... And what now?

Toruviel led them all to the commando, now including more than thirty men and women. They knew some and were greeted enthusiastically. But her mood fell, when Toruviel took her to the side and said in a concerned voice:

"He was waiting for you to come back the last year... and even then he was angry, that you left as you did... Now..."

"Do you say, that we should leave?" – Margo asked struggling to keep her voice steady.

Maybe it would be for the best... Things are getting complicated. But I missed him so much...

"No... but he will be angry, Margo. I don't know, what he will do. He may throw you out. Just... don't expect warm welcoming."

"I don't."

"Why didn't you come back sooner, sor'ca? We missed you."

"I... had something to do. Family business."

"Oh... I see. But you didn't get married or something, because..."

"No, Toru. You know me, things like that, are not for me" – Margo replied chuckling.

"Well" – Toruviel smiled warmly at her. – "He is at the spring, taking bath and, as far as I know, he is alone. You didn't expect..."

"Obviously" – Margo stated calmly and went in the pointed direction.

She ventured through thick bushes to emerge at the source of the river. There he was indeed: naked, with few new scars on his back, but alive and well. He was standing with his back to her, which gave her the chance to observe him without being noticed. Soon, she felt how aroused she was, just by looking at his body and thinking, what they would do. It wasn't even the fact, that his body was incredibly beautiful, what was obviously the truth. But, no...

Looking at him I can almost feel him again. Like, despite the time, my body was yearning for his skin, for his touch and the mere memory was enough to awake this desire.

She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself and took another step towards him and leaned on a tree at the edge of the small clearing. Then, he turned around and their eyes met.

Those green eyes... looking at me as if I was naked. Always focused and lustful. I'm lost every time I look in them...

His face displayed many emotions, but anger was not one of them. They were standing like that for a long time, before he started to approach her slowly. As he was moving towards her she noticed, that his desire for her didn't change a bit, either. She had a small smile, while she was looking at him, as he stopped and stood within her reach. They didn't move or speak for a while. Still, she couldn't stop her hands from reaching to cup his face. His reaction caught her off guard: he grabbed both of her hands surely by wrists and kept them at the level of his chest, in the air. They were both breathing heavily, but he spoke:

"No, Margo."

"I..."

"You left me two years ago. Why?" – he asked looking deep in her eyes, scrutinising her face.

"I needed to go."

"You could at least say goodbye. You didn't, why?"

"I didn't have time."

How was I to tell you, that the jarl's son is my brother? I... couldn't. How would you react? Oh, Iorveth. I hate this conversation.

"What could possibly be so urging?"

"Family business" – at this vague reply, he raised his eyebrow high, but asked further:

"Why did you come back, then?"

"I wanted to see you. I missed it."

"What?"

"You" – she answered calmly.

"No... you said, that you missed it" – he stated coldly, putting emphasis on the last word. – "What did you mean?"

She stared at him confused and stopped breathing.


IORVETH

Feainn 1266

evening

the spring of the Ina

Temeria

He was waiting patiently for her answer for a long time. Too long. He closed his eyes and breathed even heavier, than before.

There she is again. I feel the warmth of her body radiating from her. I want her and a hundred things I would do to her right here and right now. But... I am a person, not a toy. In moments like this, I'm not sure if she realises that.

She still didn't say a word. He opened his eyes to see the tension on her face. When he spoke, he was already calm and almost cold:

"You missed sex with me, Margo. This is what you truly wanted to say. But no more."

"What? Are you...?" – she huffed in irritation.

"Yes. I am and it's not negotiable" – he said with cold finality in his voice.

"So you want me to disappear for good?" – she asked angrily at once.

"If sex is the only thing you came here for, then yes. I want you to go and never come back."

She was looking at him in disbelieve and with stubbornness. He waited for a long time, again. She spoke nothing, so he released her wrists and headed to dress.

What will you do now, luned? Will you fight or will you give up? If the second... I was an utter fool for the last two years wasting my thoughts on you... Seeing your face in every...

He sighed and already fully dressed, headed to the camp passing her. Just when he passed the tree she was leaning on, she spoke:

"And if not?"

He smirked at this small victory. Surprisingly, his patience was working better, than anything else.

Maybe...

"Then why?" – he asked looking ahead, not even sparing her a glance.

"I wanted to make sure, that you are alive. I was worried."

This is a start, then... Maybe we can... Do I seriously think, that she would stay for longer? That she would... I will never know unless I try...

"Sleep with me" – he stated with a much warmer voice.

"What?!" – she exclaimed. – "Haven't you just...?"

"No. Just sleep with me. In my tent. Every night. Then... we will see."

"Is this a blackmail?!" – she exclaimed in an irritated voice. – "I made a mistake."

"See! This is what I was talking about. I am not your toy, Margo" – he turned around to see her standing behind him.

"You are a hypocrite! I remember en'ca minne. You have sex with no attachment all the time. Why do you expect something different from me? Isn't it what you want: free love?"

"No. We, Aen Seidhe, we care for each other, we are ready to die for each other all the time. We are all bounded in a way you cannot even imagine. We are all committed to this, even if not romantically to each other, we still are. You, on the other hand, you are like a wind: you come and go, you care for nothing, but your own desires. En'ca minne is a way to remind ourselves, that there are things worth fighting for, worth living for. Passion and love are what makes us, us. But you, Margo, you live for a different purpose and different goals" – he stated calmly, almost resigned.

"Like what? What do you think you know about me, elf?!"

She stopped right there, but it was too late. She said it, in a voice very close to contempt. He was dumbfounded and stared at her with wide eyes, not sure what to do or say. He didn't expect that. Her face was already full of regret when she said:

"I didn't mean..."

"Oh, dh'oine. You did" – he said closing his eyes and swallowing hard.

"Squaess'me..."

He hid his face behind his hands, before looking back at her and stated:

"Ambition and power. You are driven by ambition and power. Both traits are so typical for your race. Both traits are the very reason why my people were dispossessed and are dying. You are the impersonalisation of all of that. You take what you want and how you want it. I was a fool to think, that I am anything else for you. You wanted to be with me, not even just to please yourself, but to prove, that you can. You took me, used me and tossed me aside. I was a fool to believe otherwise..." – he was getting angrier by the minute right now, especially looking at her expressionless face.

"So why did you agree? If you knew all these things why did you offer, what you offered a while ago?" – she barked at him.

"I wanted you, I told you that long ago. Gods... I still do. But not like that."

"So like what? What else could you possibly take from me?!" – her voice started to shake slightly at the last question.

He hesitated and then he saw it: fear. Her always tensed and demanding face was now expressing fear and... pain. He stopped breathing and closed his eyes again.

How could I be so blind? I was trying to hate her so much, for such a long time, that I forgot, what I've already known about her. What I've already accepted about her.

"Margo..."

"No. We are leaving. So sorry for wasting your precious time..."

"But Margo... Margo! I..." – he called after her and she stopped in her tracks.

She was still looking ahead, but she didn't move, thus he continued:

"I want you."

"We've already established that two years ago, remember?" – she mocked turning around to face him.

"Fondly" – he chuckled. – "I want..."

"What Iorveth? This is what I am trying to learn now... What do you want?"

"I care for you. Too much. You are not en'ca minne for me, luned."

The fear on her face was back, accompanied by confusion.

"No, Iorveth. I don't know, what it was for you, but I know what it is now: a power play. I left you and you want to have all the control back. I am many things, you are right. But you are not a saint, either. You yearn for control, you get high on it" – she paused and looked with rage at him continuing: – "But you will not control me. Ever."

After hearing her words, he stared at her, confused and pensive.

You are right. I am and I know. Maybe this is exactly why...

"So what now?" – he inquired instead.

"I'll sleep with you, but not because you blackmailed me to do it, but because I actually missed it. I'll try to... be more considerate, but you'll never ever blackmail me again. You can shout and scream, I don't care, but I won't stand for blackmail. I will suffer your controlling and complaining self, I got used to it. But not this" – she said, surprising him again.

You are surrendering a little more, again and so am I. So there is a chance for us...

"All right. I won't. And I won't freak out every time you leave me alone in bed in the morning."

"Fine" – she stated and walked to the camp.

It could go better, but it could go much worse, as well.

He followed her to his camp and caught up with her on the way, so they arrived together. Toruviel and Yeavinn approached them at once, smiling widely. As they all sat at the bonfire, he heard Toruviel whispering to Margo:

"This is Dáirine" – she motioned the Seidhe with long, blond hair and blue eyes – "she won't like you."

"Why?"

"Iorveth."

"I see" – Margo stated coldly and spoke no more.

My former... what really? Lover? Well.. we were sleeping together for a very short time, but... She is hurt. I know it. And with Margo's arrival, well Toru is right...

After some time, when everyone was conversing merrily and it got late, he looked at Margo and motioned his head in the direction of the tents. She smiled and stood up. They headed to his tent, talking on their way about trifle things. Once inside, they stayed only in their pants and laid down facing each other. She had mischief in her eyes, but he rolled her around and spooned her, hugging her gently. Then, he whispered:

"Don't even consider teasing me. You promised."

"I was just... asking a question" – she chuckled, tilting her head.

Feeling her so close was torture itself. He was trying hard not to react to her body, but the effort was futile. He reminded himself a hundred times, that it was him, who wanted it like this, that he had reasons. But... he still hated it. To his surprise, unlike before, it was her, who fell asleep first.


MARGO

Feainn 1266

the camp

near the Ina

Temeria

She woke up to the strange sensation. She moved and heard a deep male chuckle. Then, her thoughts started to fully comprehend the situation. Iorveth was breathing to her ear and his breath was teasing skin on her neck, what itself would make her arc to him with a moan. But, he already had his hand in her pants and was drawing small circles on her most sensitive spot.

"Oh..." – she moaned loudly as the last sensation reached her mind.

"Hmm..."

"I see, that two weeks of abstinence is enough. Finally..." – she mocked him.

"I'm not sure. But I woke up so hard, that it's unbearable" – he stated matter-of-factly.

"Poor you... oh..." – she would mock him further, but he already inserted his fingers inside her, what effectively changed her last word into a moan.

He would probably wait a little longer for her to wake up, judging by his patient ministrations, but she removed her clothing and turned to face him with a sleepy smile.

She realised, that he is thinking hard right now, but quickly stopped altogether. He grabbed her leg and pulled her up a little, on his body. She was half-lying on him when he positioned himself and entered her easily. She was surprised just for a moment, but laughed and adjusted herself to move in this position, however, their movements, were more than limited. They were incredibly close as they found their rhythm and moved together. When she felt him tensing, she realised, that he moved his hand, with some difficulty, to her and touched her clitoris gently. It turned out to be enough for her today. He came first, but she followed closely. They looked at each other and rested in the same position for a long time, entangled closely.

As they were still lying together, naked, with him inside her, they heard footsteps and a female voice called:

"Commander!" – she recognised the voice immediately, it was Dáirine.

"I'll be right there" – he called back in a hoarse voice.

The Seidhe respectively retreated. Margo and Iorveth disentangled and looked at each other, while dressing up.

"That was awkward" – she started coldly.

"We may have visitors, soon. There is much to do."

"Who?"

"Isengrim and probably Coinneach" – he stated slowly.

"Ah... We may leave if..."

"No, absolutely not. Stay" – he said smiling widely – "I just fucked you for the first time in years. I'm far from done" – he chuckled.

"Hmm... interesting. I will remind you that in the evening" – she smiled at him teasingly.

"I may even remember that around midday, you know..." – they both chuckled and emerged outside.

They headed together to the fire, where many of their men were already sitting. Iorveth sat next to Dáirine and started to converse with her, while Margo went to Viggo and Ronja. Everyone in the camp was ready, but the visitors didn't come.

The next day, she was sparring with Sitheach and Echel. They both learned a lot since the last time she was training with them. Then, she needed to spar with them both to truly feel the adrenaline and the rush typical for the fight, you don't know the outcome of. Today, fighting them both at the same time was a true challenge, but they all had fun, too. Still, when they all laid on the grass, panting heavily, she was exhausted. Just as Echel threw grass in her face and she tried to kick him, they all heard the footsteps and looked up, to see Dáirine.

The female Seidhe was so extremely beautiful, that Margo barely believed it possible. She could just stare at her and admire every inch of her hair, face and body.

If you weren't so angry at me... well... we would have a lot of fun together.

But the moment their eyes met, Dáirine's face turned into contempt. She spoke coldly:

"You all were to train, the commander specifically told you so."

"We did and now we are relaxing. C'mon, Iorveth would never say anything. He knows how exhausting this one can be" – Echel looked at Margo, winked and all started to laugh.

But not for long. The woman above them looked Margo straight in the eyes:

"If they're too exhausted, you can spar with me, would you?" – she asked with faked politeness.

Margo didn't reply at once, thinking.

I am exhausted, too. I can barely move my hands. My legs ache... But... I cannot be disrespectful towards this Seidhe.

So, however unwillingly, she still replied:

"Obviously" – getting up and sighing.

They were encircling each other at first, but Dáirine attacked quickly. They fought for real. After a few minutes, she was kneeling, bleeding from her back, while the Seidhe was on the ground with deep cuts on her arms and leg. It was Toruviel, who called:

"Stop that at once!"

Margo abode the order and let go of her swords immediately, but... Dáirine got up to the sitting position and didn't: cutting unarmed Margo on the face. She shrieked in shock and everyone got in between them. Sitheach and Echel were at once at Margo's side and looked in horror at the long, horizontal wound on her cheek. For a moment everyone went silent and pure horror crept on their faces.

In the evening, she was lying in her own, almost unused, tent. Every female in the camp but Dáirine, obviously, spent the last few hours tending to her wounds and sitting with her. Iorveth, thankfully, was gone hunting. All were nervous, but Margo spoke calmly:

"Toru, it was an accident. She couldn't hear you."

"Don't even try, Margo. I was there" – Toruviel replied.

"My friends, could you leave the two of us alone for a while?" – the captain asked politely, but demandingly.

The rest left, leaving only her and Toruviel inside the tent. Margo asked slowly:

"What happened between her and Iorveth?"

"They had sex."

"Obviously, but it doesn't explain anything."

"He may..."

"What?"

"...have called her by your name."

"Wow..." – Margo replied shaking her head. – "He fucked up. Big time."

"Yes. And I think, she was a little bit obsessed before, but after..."

"She was hurt. Did he...?"

"What? Apologise? Obviously not. You know him. When I told him to do it, he just laughed and said, that it was a trifle."

"Idiot" – Margo stated. – "Toru?"

"Hmm?"

"I need to ask you for a favour..."

"Anything, sor'ca."

"Lie to him and order everyone to lie, too."

"What?!" – the Seidhe exclaimed in shock.

"You heard me. Say, that it was an accident and my fault."

"No, Margo. It..."

"So, at least, don't say anything at all, say that you haven't seen the whole scene. I will do the lying."

"Why? You owe her nothing."

"Exactly. But now, she would owe me."

Toruviel pondered for a long time, before saying in an unwilling voice:

"OK. I'll go tell the rest."

"Thank you, saere."

Half an hour later Iorveth marched to her tent already agitated. He looked at her in horror before asking:

"What happened? No one saw a thing and Dáirine is missing."

"She is so sorry, that it happened, that she needed to leave for a walk. It was just an accident while sparring. I shouldn't have asked her to spar in the first place: I was too tired already. I lost my balance and she measured the distance wrong. It was my fault, me mienne."

He was looking at her with disbelieve in his eyes until she said the last two words. Then, his face relaxed and he smiled gently, approaching her and lying next to her.

"Do you want to sleep alone?" – he asked warmly.

"No. I want you to stay" – she answered and cuddled herself in his embrace.

"So I will, ma mienne."

His warm and gentle voice made her close her eyes.

I played you so easily... Oh, Iorveth... Why do you care for me so much? Why do you trust me at all?


MILVA

Lammas 1266

the camp

near the Ina

Temeria

She was walking slowly through the forest. It was the middle of the day and temperature was high, would be probably unbearable, if not for a wind coming gently from the direction of the mountains. She saw a clearing in front of her and it was beautifully bathed in the sun in its peak. She walked by its edge and realised, that someone was already there. Or two people actually... To be exact: two Seidhe, a male and a female were sitting in the middle of the clearing, both had their legs entangled at each other's backs. He was grabbing her hips and she was holding his shoulders, while she was moving slightly up and down, kissing him passionately.

Aen Seidhe and sex... I just walked in... What the...?!

A man grabbed her and pushed her on the tree. He had short red hair and brown eyes, which were now scrutinising her. He was strongly-build, but handsome. Still, he was definitely a dh'oine. The man asked in a calm voice:

"Watching is not polite, nobody told you that?"

"They are Seidhe, they don't care, some even like it" – she stated huffing. – "And you?"

"I'm guarding the clearing. From someone like you. What are you doing here?"

"I'm a Brokiloéne. I'm looking for the Aen Seidhe..."

"For the commando? All right, I'll take you to Toru. Let's allow her to decide, while the commander is... occupied otherwise."

"I thought, that it was Iorveth, but who is she? I've never seen her before and I would remember. She has amazing tits for a Seidhe" – she continued their conversation, while they walked.

"You will learn or not, it is not my place to decide" – he answered cryptically.

"He always had a taste, Toru is the best example of that. Though... he would fuck anything, that walks and talks, too. But this, what we saw, it was not en'ca minne... They were one, truly... Hmm... By the way, what a dh'oine is doing with the Scoia'tael commando?"

"Guarding the premises" – he said.

"Haha!" – she laughed heartedly. – "I like you, what's your name?"

"Ragnar" – he replied looking at her.

"Skelliger? Interesting."

But, as she wanted to speak again, he whistled and they heard the reply. They emerged at the clearing and Toruviel called:

"Milva, sor'ca! It's great to see you!"

"Toru" – she replied and smiled.

"Ragnar, it's fine. We know her" – the Seidhe said to the man beside her. – "Are they finishing? We need to talk."

"Do you think that I watch them?"

"Well..."

"You are shameless. I, on the other hand, stay politely out of sight, not to be tempted..."

They all laughed and she joined the commando at the meal.

Maybe an hour later, Iorveth emerged from the forest with a woman at his side. Now, as she saw her standing, she gaped. The woman was tall, but too short for a Seidhe. She was beautiful, true, but far from Aen Seidhe beauty and she had a long scar on her entire left cheek. They came relaxed and he was hugging her, keeping her close to his body, while she had both hands leisurely in her pockets. As she was speaking, he was looking at her intently, smiling fondly all the time. Milva knew Iorveth for two years by now, but had never seen him like that before.

As they came closer, Iorveth stated:

"Margo, this is Milva, sor'ca from Brokilon. Milva, may I introduce Margo and her crew, our friends."

"Friends, fraere? This is how you call it?" – Milva asked and he chuckled, but the woman said in a strong, still warm voice:

"Pleasure to make your acquittance, Brokiloéne."

"Pleasure is mine..." – she trailed off thinking how to address this woman.

"Captain at first, then just Margo, later it's sor'ca, either way, so let's cut to the chase, sor'ca" – she stated in a pleasant voice, but Milva realised, that this is a voice of a person, who doesn't allow any disobedience.

"Agreed."

"It's good, that you are so close already, because – this one here – has seen you naked" – Ragnar stated in a mocking voice.

The woman looked at her and laughed, so everybody followed.

But they were waiting for her reaction first. Wow...

"And how did you like it?" – Margo asked with a smirk.

"I took you for a Seidhe" – Milva stated sincerely.

"It's very nice of you, however, I'm not even half as beautiful" – she said with a smile.

"Margo..." – Iorveth cut in their conversation.

"Oh, me mienne, don't be silly. I know, what I am and so do you. I'm not saying, that I don't consider myself beautiful, I do. But I'm far from the beauty of your race..."

"I will not comment, anything I say would be wrong. So come, ma mienne, we came here to eat" – he said surrendering, but he kissed her on their way.

Ma mienne... It's not for show... he meant it. The Iorveth, ruthless Aen Seidhe commander, with a dh'oine... The irony of fate...

The next morning Milva emerged from the tent, in which Margo invited her to stay in. It was almost unused, either way. She found Iorveth and Toruviel deep in the conversation:

"It is time, Toru. There is too many of us" – he stated.

"You want me to go? To take men and... leave you?" – she asked in a sad voice.

"We must split. The commando is too numerous. We'll have problems with provisions and we'll draw attention, soon. I will miss you immensely, but..."

"I've always wanted it. I was waiting for this moment, but as it is here... the only thing I feel is sorrow" – she said hugging him closely. – "But, I agree. I will take ten and we will go."

"You can come to Brokilon for a while, saere" – Milva joined their conversation.

"I think so, but we will leave in autumn, no sooner" – Toru answered with a smile.

"And were is Margo?" – Milva asked with a smile.

"They left at dawn to scout" – Iorveth answered. – "She suggested, that we make circles scouting, but with the centre far from our camp and she tends to be right in things like that. She always knew more about fighting, than we did. But, do me a favour, don't tell her, that I said so" – he chuckled lightly.

"Who is she, Iorveth?" – Milva continued.

"A captain of the pirates' crew, you heard" – he replied.

"Hmm..."

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just thinking, but you are right. It doesn't matter" – she replied and smiled.

She spent a week with the commando and the crew. As she was leaving, it was Iorveth, who walked with her for a while. When they were far from the camp, he asked:

"Could you keep their presence here a secret, Milva?"

"You mean the pirates? Why? Are you ashamed?"

"Ashamed? No. Obviously not" – he shook his head violently. – "I'm not sure as to the reaction of the rest to the fact, that they are Skelliger. I'd rather tell them myself."

"Well... I don't meddle in Scoia'tael business, never did. I will speak nothing, fraere. But... you should. They would need to accept it, if..." – she trailed off.

"If she stays for longer. I don't really care about their approval... But... I don't know" – he said blankly.

"She is complicated, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"You are not an easy man, too..."

"I know".

"But she cares deeply for you, fraere" – he chuckled before asking:

"And how do you know, wise one?" – he asked mockingly.

"I'm a woman. I can see. For example, the way she reacts to your every touch, to your voice. She is focused on you and that means, that she cares. But..."

"Hmm?"

"You care even more. And sorry to be the one, who breaks it to you, but she will leave you. Sooner or later, but she will" – she stated sorrowfully.

"I know" – he said with even greater sorrow – "but not yet. Va fail, sor'ca!"

"Va fail."

She left them with a heavy heart, thinking if she would ever see them again.


IORVETH

Velen 1266

the camp

near the Ina

Temeria

He was sitting alone, playing his flute. The melody always brought her to his mind...

Ma Seren Radiant... My Radiant Star...

Margo came to him and sat leaning her body on his. He stopped playing and buried his face in her hair whispering:

"It's about you, you know, ma Seren..."

"Hmm... this may be true. I come to you mostly after dark" – she chuckled and tilted her head to kiss him. – "I like it here, with you, you know?" – she whispered softly to his ear, licking it with her tongue.

"I'm beginning to, but I may need a little bit more convincing..." – he teased her.

But she only chuckled and cuddled her face in the small of his neck, sneaking her hands around his waist. They rested like that for a long time, before she asked:

"In which constellation?"

"Draco."

"The dragon? Why?"

"It's visible for the whole year, but in the summer, it's the easiest to see it. And one of its stars we call Tir-An-Ná, a Life in the Heaven. It may not be the brightest star of the constellation, but it has unique, blue-white light."

"Talking to me like that will get you anywhere" – she looked him in the eyes with a playful smile.

"Anywhere?" – he asked chuckling again.

"Margo, Ragnar is asking for you" – it was Dáirine, who interrupted them.

Obviously...

"Sure. Thank you, Dáirine" – Margo replied with a polite smile and got up.

He watched her leave, observing with a grin her hips rolling gently and her steady pace. Then, Dáirine spoke:

"She is a pirate."

"I know, Dáirine" – he looked at the Seidhe with a bored expression – "We've always known."

"And did you know, that she is probably the one wanted for killing Eilert van Wittenberg, our ally, in his bed?"

"What?" – he looked at her dangerously now, getting up to stand face-to-face with her.

"So she didn't tell you, what she was doing last summer" – Dáirine stated with a triumph.

"And why do you care? How many did we kill, hmm?"

"He was our ally."

"She couldn't have known."

"You were always saying, that we need Nilfgaardians to trust us."

"Where are you heading with this?"

"They will be here, for her, tomorrow morning, commander" – she stated calmly.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" – he exclaimed and attacked her, she dodged and soon Echel and Yeavinn were keeping him by his arms.

"What is it, Iorveth?" – it was Margo's voice coming from behind him.

"SAY THAT AGAIN, TRAITOR!" – he shouted to Dáirine, who said calmly:

"Nilfgaardians will be here tomorrow to arrest you, Margo. Only you, they don't know about your men."

Dead silence fell on all of them. Margo stared at her with wide eyes and started to blink violently, but spoke nothing.

This is a death sentence... She can't...

"She is not going anywhere" – Iorveth growled. – "She is one of us. How could you do it?!"

"I told you. We need Nilfgaardians to trust us, this is the price" – Dáirine replied coldly.

No one spoke a word. The only sound they heard, was hooking of owls from afar. Then, Margo said slowly:

"Crew! You must leave at once. They don't know about you, so you have an advantage. Go first North, then back to our drakkar. Ronja, take my box" – she said looking pointedly at her second in command. – "The command is yours, from now."

"Margo!" – her crew and the Scoia'tael shouted at once.

"No. No discussion. You have no choice, but to give me up. Don't you see? If you don't, they will know, that you are hiding something from them, that you lie. They will kill you all and it will endanger everything you worked for."

"So we all run" – Iorveth stated strongly.

"Me mienne... you know, that it's too late and you are too deep in this" – Margo said looking him in the eyes. – "But she said tomorrow, yes?"

"Yes" – Dáirine stated calmly, though everyone was looking at her with murder in their eyes.

"So come, me mienne. We have all night" – Margo said lightly, but he didn't move.

"Go away" – he said looking at Dáirine – "and never, ever come back."

"Iorveth!" – he looked at the woman, his woman, who just called him – "No. It's my last wish, the last favour I would ask of you. She will die: a lone Seidhe is a dead Seidhe, you know it. I won't allow it."

"I hate you" – Dáirine barked.

"I know. This is exactly why, since today, you will live for the rest of your long life knowing, that the woman you sent for her death, just spared your life. Now" – she said looking at him – "come to the riverbank. I want to feel the water" – and she started to walk to the forest.

They made love slowly and with no rush, on the beach and in the water, not speaking a word. He was trying to remember every inch of her skin, every curve of her body, the sound of her breath and her moans. His hands were shaking from time to time as he touched her. He was devastated and not ready to face tomorrow. They both knew it well.

Ma Seren Llachar... are you going to fade so soon? And because of me? I can't... I won't...

"Margo, I..." – he started, as they were standing, hugging closely in the water, but she interrupted whispering to his ear:

"Hush, hush, me mienne. You will go on with your life, a long and full life, as I wish for you. You will fuck and love many, many more men and women. This... will be only a memory, a good one, but no more. You still have a future, which is yours to take, don't waste it on grieving. I will meet my ancestors and I will have nothing to be ashamed of. I won a hundred fights and I did things, which have never been done before. I loved and I was loved. This is enough for a lifetime, me mienne" – she paused and took a deep breath. – "Sometimes, just sometimes, you'll hear my moan in the wind and sometimes, you'll hear my ordering voice in the water and you will smile, cause you'll remember, that we did it. We were here, we changed things, we loved each other. We had it all. You were the one and we walked in the garden of the stars. But we must come back to reality. And... I want you to have this" – she removed her bracelet with three black pearls, handing it to him – "there are those, who still owes me a favour. Maybe... one day, it may save your life, me mienne."

They clung to each other, almost melting in one body and one soul. If he could hide her in him, he wouldn't hesitate. But... it was just wishful thinking. There was no other way, he knew, that she was right. It was either her or his commando, even more: their cause. Dáirine's betrayal left him no choice, especially, after Margo accepted her fate so easily.

For us... Like a true Scoia'tael, ready to give up everything. Freedom or death. But she was free and still gave it up... Oh... Margo. I cannot imagine losing you like this.

The rising sun found her in the middle of the camp, tied by her wrists and with a loop around her neck – in the Scoia'tael way. Iorveth was holding her, by the rope, while the Nilfgaardians approached from the line of the forest. One of them, the officer he knew – Ferran, stated:

"Well, well! Good job, Iorveth! It may truly be her."

Hating himself, he pushed her roughly to the ground and she fell on her face. When she tried to get up, the same Nilfgaardian approached her and pulled her by her hair, looking in her face:

"Hmm... It's a long road to Cintra. We may need a stop or two on our way. Did you fuck her?" – he asked looking at Iorveth.

"This filthy dh'oine? Are you kidding me?" – he answered with dark contempt in his voice, hiding terrible pain, which was clenching his heart unbearably.

"I thought so. Thanks for the delivery. Va fail!" – Ferran smirked and pulled Margo up, strangling her in the process, but she never turned around nor did she make a sound.

Iorveth didn't reply. He was watching the scene frozen and shaking violently, as the officer threw Margo at his horse like a piece of meat, got up and turned around, galloping back to the forest.

When they disappeared from his sight, he fell to his knees and a terrible whimper escaped his mouth.

What have I done? I...

He hid his face behind his hands and bent.

I lost her. I sold her... I...

He wasn't sure how long he spent like that, on the ground, with a bleeding heart, trying to catch his breath. He was alone and hated himself with everything, that he was. The whole commando was in mourning and even the wind seemed to wail in the forest one sentence:

It is your fault.

Crimson leaves started to fell from the trees to the ground. Autumn had come.


Andante

ANGUS

the night of Saovine 1268

the Nilfgaardian camp near the Ribbon

Brugge

Iorveth looked like a man, who lost it all... and he did. His commando was destroyed three months ago, while they were moving South, to join them in the camp of the Nilfgaardian army. Angus realised at once, that he is not the man he knew before. They haven't seen each other for more than a year, it is true, but... He was still shocked, that so much can change in such a short time.

The younger Seidhe was quiet and tense. Nothing was left from the energetic and ambitious demeanour he always had. He was thinner, than Angus remembered, with ashen skin and mate hair. He looked like a ghost of himself.

The night was completely dark, no fire was set on the night of Saovine and clouds were on the sky, blocking the light of the moon and stars. Angus was sitting next to silent Iorveth and had this feeling...

He looks as if someone was haunting him...

He was pondering for a long time, before he decided to break the silence:

"Iorveth, are you all right?"

"Obviously, fraere" – the answer came in a quiet voice.

"I know... your commando... but there is nothing you could have done..."

"I know. There is, in general, nothing we can do. We were fools to believe otherwise."

"But... were are part of a great and victorious army now. Many things are going to change. We are going to achieve our goals."

"We lost a long time ago, fraere, we just refuse to accept that" – Iorveth replied bitterly.

Angus observed him for a long time, before he asked:

"What happened last year, fraere?"

"I sacrificed everything..." – he replied in a blank voice.

"It's what we do."

"Yes. Only the ashes will remain."

"Tomorrow. Tomorrow we will light the fires for the ones we lost, but there are many still alive" – Angus said and Iorveth didn't reply.

The next evening, they all followed Iorveth to light the fires at the riverbank. No one really knew why he went there to prepare the pyres, but they all followed in silence. The strong, West wind was blowing form Brokilon and the river was flowing rapidly. It was not a quiet place, but maybe for the better, none of them was really in a mood for conversation.

When the fire started to roar, Angus observed with worry as Iorveth dropped to his knees and stayed like that till the fire died out many hours later. Motionless and expressionless. He was the last to remain with the younger Seidhe, who seemingly refused to live any longer, who just existed now.

As the fire burned out and the wind was blowing softer, he heard it: a soft moan of the wind, reminding him of a female voice. Iorveth looked up. Then, he got up, looked at Angus with unseeing eyes and went back to the camp.


ISENGRIM

Saovine 1268

the Nilfgaardian camp near the Ribbon

Brugge

He was searching angrily for Iorveth, however, on the spot, where the Vrihedd Brigade had their tents, the younger Seidhe was no where to be found. After an hour, he was close to giving up, as he saw the man, he was looking for, emerging from the forest and marching into the camp. Isengrim approached him quickly and stood face-to-face with him, stating:

"You cannot talk to general Braibant in such a manner. You know it. What is wrong with you?!"

"What manner?" – Iorveth was honestly surprised.

"Disrespectful."

"Ah... but the dh'oine was talking, as if he had no idea, how the terrain looks like near Brenna. There are hills everywhere around it. We will be blinded. There are hundred ways in which the Nordlings would be able to surprise us" – the younger Seidhe stated calmly and paused before adding: – "You agreed with me and – as I heard – Coehoorn did, as well. We are attacking Meyena, aren't we? Why are you so agitated?"

"They are our allies and we serve directly under Braibant. You angered him without a reason."

"Oh... so his ego was hurt?" – Iorveth was mocking openly now. – "Well, I don't really care much about those dh'oines' feelings, fraere. Neither of them."

"What is wrong with you? You were the first to work with Nilfgaardians, you liked them, Iorveth. What changed?"

"I got to know them and I learned, that the grass is always greener somewhere else."

"Either way, deal with it. Something like that cannot happen again" – Isengrim scolded him.

"You know, fraere, times, when you could scold me, are long gone" – Iorveth stated and turned around to walk away.

"Iorveth, you are like a younger brother to me, don't make me pull my rank" – the older Seidhe pleaded, but the other one didn't stop, so he continued differently: – "Officer! Stop!"

Iorveth stopped and turned around, his demeanour was already different: his face was cold and blank when he asked:

"Yes, colonel?"

"You won't take part in any meetings of officers until I say otherwise. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"Iorveth! What is happening? I've never seen you like that... Talk to me, if there is anything..."

"No. There is nothing."

"Iorveth... I know you for decades... Last time you were like that was when... your horse, Zephyr, passed away. But you were seventeen, then... Is this about the commando?"

"Obviously. We took the risk, which we shouldn't have taken, only in order to get here."

"We all knew the risk, they did, too. There was nothing, you could have done..." – Isengrim said in his most calming voice.

"I know. But it doesn't change facts" – Iorveth stated in defiance.

Isengrim approached the younger man and put his hand on the other's shoulder, looking at him calmly. Then, he asked again:

"Is it all?"

"Isn't it enough?"

"Yes. Yes, it is... Go hunting, it always worked for you. Or find someone to spent a night, it usually worked even better" – Isengrim smirked, but the other man just nodded and left.

He was looking in Iorveth's direction for a long time, before going to his tent, where Linnéa and Saoirse were already waiting for him: naked, occupied and with wide, playful grins. As he undressed slowly, with a predatory grin of his own, his last thoughts were still whirling around the conversation with his younger friend...

Well... At least it always works for me...


ARYAENA

Yule 1268

the Nilfgaardian camp near the Ribbon

Brugge

She looked up in the eyes of the man, who was, right now, moving rhythmically with her, as they were chasing their pleasure. She heard of him for a long time, but met him only two months ago. There was something so appealing in him, that she couldn't resist and tonight, at last, she was able to take him to her tent. In a dark way, he impersonated everything, that the Aen Seidhe was: freedom, loss, danger and fierce passion. Aryaena didn't know much about him, despite the fact, that he was one of the first and the youngest commanders, but he lost most of his men a few months ago.

As he undressed her, kissing her neck, breasts and stomach, there was something cold, but hungry and determined in his behaviour. She found it even more arousing, for the reasons, unknown even to her. His touch was urgent and rushed, but she matched him in it, eagerly. As he was already inside her, she quickly felt, that she is on her edge. They came together, with satisfied moans, but... he never once looked at her, nor did he touch her face. Even as he rested for a moment in the small of her neck, sucking on it passionately, she knew, that someone else was on his mind.

Only afterwards, as he slid out of her, she met his impossibly green eyes, endless as a wilderness, and she saw it: they were cold and blank. He smiled at her gently, but it was a fake smile, never reaching those incredibly sorrowful eyes.

They were lying together, still naked, next to each other, but barely touching. After a long silence, she stated slowly:

"I lost the man, I hoped to spend the rest of my life with, two years ago. I understand."

"What?" – he asked and lifted his upper body to look at her.

"You heard me."

"I... why would you say that?"

"I see you, Iorveth" – as she said that, he laid back, flat on his back, and looked up at the tent's celling.

"It is true, what they say about you, Aryaena, you are incredibly observant and compassionate..." – he replied with sadness.

"You remembered my name... I wouldn't think so" – she replied looking at the celling, as well.

"I learned my lesson. The hardest possible way."

"What did you do?" – she asked, turning to her side and looking at him intently.

"How...?" – he asked and turned to face her, too. – "You surprise me more and more. Guess, then, if you wish."

"You sacrificed her, didn't you?" – she observed his features tensing and his eye-lids falling shut.

"I sold her..." – he whispered.

"Ah... there is always a price, if you want to achieve your goals: the greater they are the higher is the price" – after she finished, he opened his eyes again and asked:

"Why did you invite me here?"

"I can't really say... En'ca minne... it's a curious thing. Sometimes, the only thing that keeps us going..." – she replied taking his length into her hands.

At first, he was confused and surprised at her action, but he let go. As he was ready, she pushed him gently to his back and straddled him, facing his feet. She didn't expect him to sit up and hug her gently, neither did she anticipate his delicate kisses on her neck and back. But it was nice, all-consuming sensation, allowing her to forget, even if just for this night.


CIARAN

Yule 1268

the Nilfgaardian camp near the Ribbon

Brugge

It was a stressful experience to meet for the first time his new commanding officer. He joined the Scoia'tael a short while ago and was still green as grass, he knew it well. And now, he was a member of the Vrihedd Brigade. He approached the centre of their part of the camp, to see ten experienced commanders sitting at the fire and talking merrily: all, but one. The Seidhe was only a few years older than him, but looked as if the burden of the whole world was on his shoulders. He was sitting silent and grim, looking absent-mindedly at the fire in front of him. His raven-black hair was falling in a studious mess and moving lightly in the wind.

As Ciaran approached, one of the commanders, with light brown hair fastened in a ponytail, asked in a pleasant voice:

"Is there anything we can do for you, boy?"

"My name is Ciaran aep Easnillien, I am looking for Iorveth..." – he said in a shaking voice, overwhelmed by the looks the older Seidhe were giving him.

"And why would you look for him?" – the Seidhe with raven-black hair asked in a bored voice.

"I'm to report to him" – Ciaran answered again, almost panicking.

"Ah... Have you ever held a sword before, boy?" – the man continued, not even sparing him a glance.

"Well... not really, but I can shoot."

"Every Seidhe can shoot. But you are going into a battle" – and then, the commander turned around and met his eyes. Ciaran almost gasped seeing this dark green orbs looking intently at him. – "Come, we will spar. I see, that, at least, you already have a sword" – the man continued standing up and picking up his own sword.

He followed Iorveth to the clearing outside the camp. There, the older Seidhe turned around and ordered:

"Position!"

Ciaran obeyed without hesitation.

"Good. Now, let's fight" – the officer said and they started to spar.

"Left! Left! Don't look at my weapon, look me in the eyes. My arm may deceive you, but my eyes cannot, they react to my thoughts on their own. Better!" – Iorveth was giving him commands like that for the whole time and Ciaran obeyed.

They spent probably some hours sparring, without a break and the sun began to set. He was observing experienced movements of the man he was training with, in owe and adoration. He had never seen someone moving like that before. Ciaran realised quickly, that he is already fascinated with this grim and determined Seidhe, but kept his face under control. In the end, Iorveth stated:

"You are a good swordsman, Ciaran. With some training, you may become an excellent one."

"Commander..." – the younger Seidhe started, but trailed off.

"Yes?"

"You trained in the Blue Mountains, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I was fighting at Ciaran's aep Dearbh side for a while, but... you fight differently."

"You are observant, aren't you?" – Iorveth stated with a sad smile. – "I may have sparred more than once with pirates. Probably the best warriors I know."

"Pirates? But... How?"

"Accidentally" – when the commander said that, his grim features changed. Now he looked soft and warm, welcoming, but he continued: – "It is a long story, Ciaran..."

"I will gladly hear it" – the younger Seidhe said and took a step closer to the other man, now standing not even a meter from him.

"Your eyes... they are brown, but almost mahogany... incredible" – Iorveth whispered, putting his left hand on Ciaran's cheek, what made him lean to the touch instantly, with a small smile. – "Not tonight" – the commander continued and walked away, leaving him breathless.

As Iorveth left, Ciaran sat down and closed his eyes. He barely knew this man but felt, that he would never forget the officer and the terrible sorrow, which seemed to follow him everywhere he went.


Adagio

MOUSESACK

Lammas 1268

Harviken

Faroe

The jarl's family and men were gathered in the main hall of the jarl's house. The conditions of the Peace of Cintra were read out loud by the jarl's son. Skelliger didn't take part in the fights on the land, but were raiding Nilfgaard restlessly and blocked effectively supply routes. Especially clan Dimun, under the command of Carnelian, was out there for Nilfgaardian blood and provisions. So they all considered the victory of the Northern Realms as their own, too. Provision after provision caused enthusiastic reactions of the crowd gathered in the hall. All, but the last one. Halbjorn was just reading at loud in a strong voice:

Article 25th The colonel and all officers of the Vrihedd Brigade, war criminals, are to be surrendered to the kings and queen of the Northern Realms immediately.

Dead silence fell on the crowd gathered in the hall in Harviken. Skelliger couldn't even imagine, that the Emperor would do something like that. It was Carnelian, who broke the silence stating in shock:

"They are giving them up? Sending them to die?"

"It is wrong" – Ragnvaldr supported her.

"We don't love elves, but... this is vile. They will be executed" – Solveig added.

The mood in the hall fell and the first toast was a silent one, for the men led to die.

Shorty after, Carnelian called him to her parents' bedroom. He followed curiously and remembered the last time he was part of such a conspiracy.

Velen 1266

grove

near the Temple of Melitele

Ellander

On the early morning, he was sitting by the great oak on Ard Skellig, meditating, when he felt the xenovox vibrating and heard the voice calling his name:

"Mousesack! Mousesack!"

He was surprised to hear Ronja's voice, but replied:

"Ronja? What is it?"

"Do you have some potion to cause memory loss?"

"Temporarily? You have one too: Mahakaman spirit."

"You are a genius! Meet us in Ellander, in a grove close to the Temple of Melitele, in two hours."

"I'll be there" – he replied and went to gather his travelling attire before opening the first portal.

When he came to the grove, he saw Carrie sitting by the tree, encircled by her man. As he approached, all looked at him.

"Carnelian... What happened?" – he asked the young woman.

"I was arrested by Nilfgaardian patrol, but they saved me" – she replied looking with gratitude at her crew.

"Why did you need something for memory loss?"

"We didn't want Nilfgaardians to know how far we venture into the land" – Carrie replied.

"Right. Why did you call me here, then?" – Mousesack asked looking at Ronja.

"We didn't know if our plan would work, but it did and Carrie is fine, so we are good..." – Ronja trailed off.

He was observing the whole crew and their captain carefully, but they had perfectly innocent faces. Still, he knew: they were hiding something.

The crack of the door brought him back from his memories and as he entered the bedroom, he saw jarl Holger, Kerstin, Halbjorn and Muriel. Carnelian closed the door behind them and stated at once:

"I am not leaving them, father. They are not going to die like that on my watch."

The room fell silent. They knew about whom Carrie is talking, but still... what she suggested was... beyond their imagination. Mousesack heard Holger's voice:

"When you came back in 1264 we all knew, that something has changed. Moreover, you had information about Scoia'tael, which seemed to be impossible to gather. Two years later, you came broken-hearted, even more than when you and Svanrige broke up. You came bearing news, which more than probably, were one of the reasons behind the recent victory. But... if you want us to understand and support you, we need to hear more."

"I... yes. But it doesn't change the simple fact, that it is wrong. They all don't deserve this fate" – Carrie said in a strong voice, avoiding to say anything more than they already suspected. – "I need five drakkars, that's all."

"And if you fail? If the Nordlings discover you? What then?" – her father continued.

"I will pretend to be a little, stupid girl, who is simply raiding the North" – she replied.

"And if you succeed? All Scoia'tael will be hunted. How many, you think, we can shelter on our small Faroe?" – Kerstin asked in a concerned voice.

"The king still owes we favour" – Carnelian said in a grim voice. – "I will call it, if necessary."

"Carrie... it's a dangerous game you want to play" – Kerstin stated. – "You want to ask Bran to help you to help your lover, while Svanrige still waits for your answer. How do you want to solve this conundrum?"

"I had a conversation with Svanrige five months ago, while we were attacking Nilfgaardian fleet. He has no illusions as to my answer anymore."

"Did you refuse to marry the most possible candidate for the next king of Skellige?" – Holger Blackhand asked quietly.

"I did."

"For an elf?" – he continued in a lauder and irritated voice.

"No, father. For myself. I've never been made for this life. I will not be the king's wife. I'm not planning to be anybody's wife. I am Margaret of the clan Dimun and it won't change" – the young woman stated strongly.

"My daughter..." – Holger started – "I am proud of both: you and your brother and I respect your decision but... don't be alone forever. It's a terrible fate, my dear."

Mousesack looked at Carnelian in an unspeakable owe. Looking at her determined, ambitious and cold face, he knew, that the female pirate would yet amaze them all even more than she already did.


RONJA

Saovine 1269

the Pontar

near White Bridge

Temeria

They were sailing in total silence, in the darkness of the new moon, up the Pontar river. To make room for the officers of the Vrihedd Brigade and not to need more men, than their crew, they were sailing in pairs on five commandeered ships. No one paid any attention to five small Temerian units sailing upstream. It was exhausting, but... They all refused to just sit and watch what will happen to the Seidhe they've known. The plan was to take over the prisoners as close to the river as possible and then, to sail back to the Great Sea, to make a stop at the Fiddler's Green Bay in Kerack to regroup, possibly change boats and decide what to do next.

The ships were landed a few miles from the bridge in White Bridge and they waited. Already in Rinde, they were lucky to capture and interrogate Redanian patrol. Their commanding officer, after some... encouragement, shared with the Skelliger, that in a few days they are to watch over the bridge, to make sure, that no one will try to take over the prisoners... well... They wouldn't, obviously, their bodies were probably already eaten by the fish.

The crossing was to take place at dawn. So now they waited patiently in ships, they're commandeered back on the Temerian waters.

The sun was rising slowly and they sailed even closer to the bridge. Then, they saw them – a sad procession of some thirty Seidhe and maybe forty-five soldiers guarding them. The procession stopped before the bridge, just as Skelliger landed a dozen meters from it. The pirates got ashore and moved in the direction of the Aen Seidhe and their guards. Still, no one reacted seeing humans dressed as merchants, approaching them. It changed much too late, when the pirates shoot from the crossbows in a blink of an eye.

Ronja and Viggo got to prisoners, while the rest was already fighting in a close-combat. Once freed of the shackles, the prisoners ran to the swords left by fallen guards. In maybe ten minutes, the fight was over and they were all getting on the ships.

The sail down the Pontar was swift, Margo ordered from time to time:

"Trim the sails! Faster!"

At midday, they were passing the Free City of Novigrad and sailed on the Great Sea. From there, they sailed South to their favourite Fiddler's Green Bay in Kerack. They journeyed through the night and got ashore the next morning. There was no sight of any pursuit.

They haven't even realised yet, what had happened... Carrie is a genius.


COINNEACH

Saovine 1269

Fiddler's Green Bay

South from Kerack

Kerack

On the sea, most of the Aen Seidhe got sea-sick, obviously. They were not used to sailing and small Temerian ships were shallow and swift, only adding to the feeling of rocking. He, surprisingly, didn't feel bad at all, to the contrary: he enjoyed it, especially the feeling of freedom the Sea gave. The pirates didn't speak much, they were busy with the boat and were dodging any questions they tried to pose, but for one:

"Where are we heading?" – he asked.

"Fiddler's Green Bay, South from Kerack" – the woman with short black hair replied.

Once ashore, they were waiting for the last ship, which, as he was informed by a strong man with short, brown hair and blue eyes, was to make sure, that they were not followed. The last drakkar was under the command of the pirates' captain. As the boat neared the beach, he saw a young woman with short, red and curly, hair jumping to the shallow water as the last. She was approaching them in steady, but slow pace.

She levelled with Ciaran aep Dearbh and asked him something. He pointed at Coinneach and she nodded, heading in the pointed direction. Coinneach stood up and observed the woman:

"Commander, my name is captain Carnelian. It is a pleasure to make your acquittance" – she extended her hand, which he shook saying:

"Coinneach Da Réo, as you know. The pleasure is all mine. You saved us."

"Well, we – Skelliger – have our own code of honour, which definitely doesn't include executing foes in the manner, which was awaiting you in Drakenborg. I would kill you on the battlefield, that is true, but not like that..."

"I shall probably consider myself lucky, then, that you fought mostly at the Sea and on Yaruga" – Margo smiled gently at his response and replied:

"I shall consider myself lucky, as well. The Vrihedd Brigade was the only determined unit in the whole Nilfgaardian Army. Meeting you and your men meant death, I'm not a fool not to know that" – she paused before stating: – "I heard, that Isengrim Faoiltiarna was taken away already in Dillingen."

"Yes" – Coinneach said with sadness. – "He was probably executed shortly after, along with Angus Bri Cri and Riordain."

"I see... and others?"

"Iorveth and Tighearnach died at Brenna. We don't know what happened to Noirin..." – the captain's face tensed only for a split of a second, before she swallowed and stated calmly:

"And your men, commander? What with the warriors from the Vrihedd and the Scoia'tael?"

"Some were allowed to stay in Nilfgaard, but... I suspect most of them will come back to the North to continue fighting" – he answered slowly.

"They are banned from Dol Blathanna. Did you hear that?"

"Yes."

"They will be hunted and executed" – she stated sternly.

"It is the only way" – Coinneach said with resignation.

"No, it's not. I can offer you a shelter."

"What?"

"I told you, that my name is Carnelian, but... it's a nickname. My full name is Margaret Laura from the clan Dimun. I can offer you shelter on Faroe, but not sovereignty. You will need to recognise my father's rule and the king, still, we are not Nordlings from the Continent. We judge men by their deeds, not by their status or race. I'm not promising you a paradise... but I'm offering you a fresh start."

To say, that he was in a shock, would be an understatement of the year. He almost gaped at this young woman, standing in front of him and asked in a disbelieving whisper:

"Why? Why would Skelliger do it?"

"We understand fight and freedom. We understand living and dying by one's own rules as well as you do. You are great warriors, Coinneach, and this is what we understand the best. One day... we may ask you to return this favour. One day, we may need to fight arm-to-arm, but till this day come, you'll have a chance for a better life, than you could dream of here. But most importantly, once the pledge would be made, you'll be one of us and we never, ever, betray our people. Holger Blackhand is not Emhyr or..."

"Enid..." – Coinneach finished for her with anger. – "If I accept your offer, will you allow us to travel through the Realms to gather the commandos?"

"No" – upon hearing her reply he narrowed his eyes with surprise at her answer, but she grinned and continued: – "We'll travel with you. We'll divide into five groups and we'll cover as much land as we can, as soon as we can. But now, we all need sleep, we were sailing for two days without a rest, I'm fading as I stand" – she finished with a wide grin.

"Thank you, luned" – he stated and almost dropped to his knees.

As they stood and conversed, the wind stopped blowing at all and was replaced by small drops of rain falling slowly, but inevitably to the ground.