Chapter Three

The din of Novigrad proper was a steady hum, ever-present, a backdrop of sound. Vendors hawked their wares and animals cried out in their various languages. Geralt led Roach by his bridle and coaxed him up to a nearby post. Tying the horse loosely, he looked over to Renzin and raised his eyebrows. "So, where to?"

Renzin smiled crookedly at him from beneath the dark hood she had pulled over her head. "Well, the first thing I can tell you is that you're going to have to get naked. That's in the witcher skillset, is it not?"

"I'm an expert," Geralt replied with a wolfish twinkle in his eye, "but don't sell yourself short, now."

The pair followed the winding streets to just north of Hierarch Square. Renzin stopped at a set of wide steps leading down to a luxuriously decorated facade. A pair of ornate double doors sat closed with no guard posted outside. "You first," Renzin urged with a flick of her head.

Geralt's sharp senses did not detect any imminent danger as he stepped up to the door so he gave two firm knocks. A moment of silence followed, then suddenly the door slowly swung open. Geralt stepped in tentatively with Renzin trailing him a ways behind.

A flamboyantly dressed middle-aged man stood just inside the doorway. He bowed as soon as Geralt stepped in. "Enter, please, enter master! Welcome to the finest bathhouse in all of Novigrad!" He held his arms out toward a nearby room with latticed walls. "The gentleman may utilize the changing room here. Towels are already placed within." Then, suddenly noticing Renzin's dark figure behind Geralt, the man cleared his throat in surprise. "Ah, and for the lady, the room further down the hallway if you please."

Geralt glanced over at Renzin incredulously. "Alright, I'll bite. What are we doing here?"

By way of a reply Renzin told the concierge, "We're going to require an audience with the owner."

The man balked and pursed his lips. "My lady, the master is an extremely busy man and does not give audiences without appointment-"

Geralt traced a Sign in the air with his hand. "You'll do as the lady wishes," he stated flatly.

The concierge's eyes appeared glassy and he bowed, tapping his feet together primly. "I'll do as the lady wishes," he echoed. "The master will meet with you presently. Please wait for him in the baths." Turning, he disappeared behind a door at the other end of the hallway.

Renzin pouted. "But I didn't even get to menace him with my imperial seal..." she whined in mock dejection.

Geralt chuckled as he entered the changing room. "Just trying to be efficient. Better we get the business out of the way and get straight to the part where we disrobe." Moments later he emerged with just a towel wrapped around his waist. The puckered scars that crisscrossed his body gleamed in the dim lighting.

Renzin stepped out of the room beside his, naked save for her sand-colored skin. She had the towel draped over her shoulders like a cape. Geralt felt an uncontrollable twinge in his body as he unabashedly pored over her smooth, rune-covered body. Growling softly, he reached out and ran a rough hand over the mound of her ass.

Renzin took his hand and pulled him by it toward the entrance to the baths. "Can't take you anywhere, hm?" she clucked. "Better get you in some water before you offend some unsuspecting patrons."

The baths consisted of a series of lofty chambers covered entirely in large slabs of ostentatious stone. Shallow pools spread throughout the area emitted lingering clouds of steam. Men and women, some towelled and some not, dotted the landscape. The water provided some kind of natural phosphorescence which contributed to the ethereal atmosphere.

Many eyes glanced fleetingly at Renzin's unusual appearance as she breezed through toward a more sparsely occupied inner chamber. Geralt elicited a few looks himself, most of which were best described as 'confused disdain'. When they reached the edge of the pool Renzin shrugged her towel off and stepped daintily into the water, squealing as the heat hit her skin. Geralt unceremoniously unwrapped himself and lowered his body into the pool. Immediately all the constant aches that he usually pushed to the back of his mind insistently made themselves known. He groaned in spite of himself and tried to loosen his tired muscles.

Renzin sidled up beside him. "Poor dear," she cooed mockingly, and rubbed his upper arms with her surprisingly firm grip.

Geralt leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing himself just a moment of ease. "Why meet in the baths?" he asked with his eyes still closed.

"Sigi's a careful man," Renzin replied. "He likes to be sure his associates have nothing hidden up their sleeves, quite literally."

"Mm. Smart, but witchers have a lot more tricks than just their swords," Geralt commented casually. "Even Roche used to say, 'A Temerian soldier's only as good as his fists say he is.'"

"Vernon Roche?" Renzin inquired with a surprised grin.

Geralt opened one eye and peered at her. "Now how the hell would you know a stuffed shirt like Vernon Roche?"

Renzin laughed heartily and crossed her hands behind her head, evidently recalling some amusing memory. "Oh, you don't want to hear about that, do you?"

Geralt closed his eyes again and the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight grin. "Try me. Got the time right now."

Renzin leaned up against him, her lips near his shoulder. "Years ago Foltest had requested my presence in his court to try and convince me to serve as his advisor. He had heard tell of me through some lord or other and decided he had to have me for himself. He was also trying quite hard to bed me, as surprising as that is considering we share no familial blood."

Geralt snorted.

Renzin shrugged and continued, "He wasn't to my taste however and I spent an amusing week in his court rebuffing his advances and being lavished with gifts and luxuries. At the close of the week he threw a gala on a whim. It was a decorated affair, all manner of lords and ladies and ambassadors and whatnot in attendance. Foltest was trying to keep me on his arm like a prized piece of jewellery..."


"Magnate Leucard! Please, allow me to introduce you to Lady Renzin, whom I sincerely hope shall stay on as my advisor." King Foltest held out Renzin's rune-covered hand and gulped at his goblet of wine.

Magnate Leucard, a tall but portly man with a full beard and a deep blue floor-length doublet, took Renzin's hand and gently placed his lips on it. "Pleasure, my lady," he declared with a thick regional accent. "His Majesty evidently holds you in most high regard, and it is certainly not difficult to see why."

Renzin wore her long, black hair tied up high like a horse's tail. Her dress swept to the floor in dark maroon velvet and glimmered with gold filigree. The low neckline framed her bosom like a heart. She wore a thick band of gold tight to her neck. "Charmed," she replied politely, and nodded to the magnate.

Foltest, impressed with himself, began discussing politics with Magnate Leucard and another stuffy grey-haired man who had joined them. Renzin's eyes and mind darted around the room milling with affluently-dressed people, seeking some means of escape. Not sensing anything particularly of interest, she chose a small group at random that had congregated near a pillar toward a corner of the room. Pulling away from Foltest's arm, she could hear him begin to protest but quickly become absorbed back into the heated political discussion. So these noblemen are good for something after all, she thought as she elegantly strode across the room.

Renzin stepped into the circle non-chalantly, grabbing a goblet of wine from a passing servant's tray. "Excuse me, I hope you don't mind if I join you," she ventured with a beguiling smile.

"Certainly not," an aged man in a large square hat replied with a half bow. "You are His Majesty's guest of honor, my lady, I daresay you may enter any conversation you wish. Please, allow me to introduce myself; I am Lord Gilderad and this is Lady Coriana." He gestured toward a thin, fair woman who regarded Renzin with barely disguised contempt but managed a curtsey. "And this," Lord Gilderad continued, "is the formidable Vernon Roche, Commander of the Temerian Special Forces."

Roche certainly carried a presence with him. His blue and black striped doublet strained tightly over his broad chest, hinting at the powerful soldier's physique contained within. His chin-length chestnut hair was loosely swept back with a natural wave. Renzin admired his his angular jaw and dark, pensive eyes without any attempt at discretion. Looks like I lucked out here, she mused as she held out her hand to him. "How interesting," she remarked.

Roche took her hand and kissed it stiffly. "Surely not as much as you imagine, my lady," he replied flatly in his authoritative tone.

The group jumped from topic to topic, covering the standard conversational fare usually reserved for such formal occasions. All the while Renzin kept her eyes locked on Roche who shyly returned her glance a few times. She reached into his mind just a little bit and discovered that he was quite enchanted by her and found her devastatingly attractive, which did not particularly surprise her. She also confirmed that he had a tough veneer of discipline honed by a lifetime of military service that discouraged him from frivolity. Renzin had already suspected this would be the case; luckily, she loved a good challenge.

After a few empty goblets of wine Lady Coriana hissed some unheard words in Gilderad's ear and his face fell. "Excuse me, Lady Renzin, Commander Roche. It appears we've been neglecting our other associates. It's been a pleasure conversing with you both." He had barely finished speaking before Coriana bustled him off to some other corner of the room.

Roche swirled his wine, glancing across the room then back to Renzin. "Just us now," he observed awkwardly and gave her an apologetic smile.

"That's right. Are you disappointed?" she looked back at him from beneath lowered eyelids.

"Why, who would be disappointed to be alone with the most beautiful and intriguing woman here?" he blurted out all at once. That wine was starting to work its magic.

Renzin laughed and placed a hand on his arm. "What a lovely creature you are," she said coquettishly. "An elite commando fumbling his way around a mere woman."

"My lady, you are no mere woman!" Roche insisted. "I didn't think I was fumbling..." he added indignantly.

"Perhaps I was a little harsh," Renzin conceded. "Do you think you can prove me wrong?"

Roche examined her expression and felt her grip tighten a bit on his forearm. Her cheeks were very lightly flushed with drink and her mismatched eyes sparkled mischievously. He felt his inhibitions being dismantled by all manner of influences from the endearing poison of alcohol to the allure of this woman who seemed to be able to say exactly what he wanted to hear. "You seem like you've had enough of all these people," he put forth at last.

"Yes. What I really want to do is to go somewhere else with Vernon Roche, Commander of the Temerian Special Forces."

"But where could we possibly go?" Roche asked with genuine uncertainty.

"It's a big castle," Renzin shrugged, "I'm sure we'd make excellent explorers." She took Roche's hand without warning and enthusiastically led him toward one of the open double doors. "Come, let's go!"

Roche stumbled after her, glancing over his shoulder. He could see Foltest staring narrow-eyed in their direction, trying to ascertain where they were headed, surrounded by a group of noblemen and women all chattering at him. "But my lady, the king-" Roche protested with his voice lowered.

Renzin whirled around and took his other hand with a laugh, continuing to step out the doorway backward. "I do think it's very sweet that you're such a patriot Vernon but you must not worry about Foltest, honestly. He's just a big old bore who's wishing he was you right now."

Roche's cheeks flushed inadvertently, which Renzin thought was quite adorable. He ceased his protests and followed her into the candlelit hallway. The flames flickered off the suits of armor that adorned the hall in a long row. The pair wandered about jesting, laughing and spilling wine, trying doors and finding most of them locked. Presently Renzin twisted the knob on one door that opened into a small library with a wall of windows, a desk in the middle of the room and a roaring lit fireplace in another wall.

"Someone was up to some late night scholarly pursuits," Renzin remarked, rifling through the piles of papers on the desk.

Roche closed the door behind him and sauntered around the room, examining the spines of the books. He looked over at Renzin who was leaning on the desk watching him. "Somehow I think..." he began.

"That I have a less noble pursuit in mind?" she finished and tilted her head back, arching her neck.

Roche could feel his blood pumping almost audibly. He grinned toothily at Renzin and stepped up to her, grabbing her in one swift motion and sitting her up on the desk. He pushed himself between her knees and leaned down to kiss her. He felt her tongue agilely push into his mouth. He hiked up her long dress and ran his hands up the warm, smooth skin of her outer thighs. "I don't often partake in the ignoble pursuits," he mumbled between meetings of their lips. "After all, I have to set a firm example for my men."

Renzin reached to deftly undo the clasps of Roche's fancy doublet. She looked up at him with her tongue at her teeth. "I lack discipline," she said slyly, "so I think you'd better show me that firm example."

"As the lady wishes," Roche proclaimed rather charmingly despite his mild inebriation and pulled off his tight doublet, letting it drop to the floor. The firelight gleamed off his tanned skin, leaving arcs of shadow defining his thick pectorals, his roughly hewn abdomen. The soft swath of hair coating his chest was intermittently interrupted by a few white ridges, souvenirs of encounters with blades.

Renzin could see an oblong shape straining at the laces of Roche's trousers. She let one of her shoes slip off and pushed on his crotch with her bare foot, coaxing a breathy grunt from Roche in response. "Show me what's in here," she demanded.

Roche chuckled and said, "I usually only take orders from my king." As he spoke he slowly unlaced his trousers and pulled down the front just enough to retrieve his erect cock, straight and surprisingly dark in color. It was longer than a palm's length and of relatively standard girth, resembling a spear of smooth flesh.

Gracefully twisting herself over to lie on her front, Renzin giggled like a maid, still giddy from the wine. Her dress pulled under her weight and started to slip off one shoulder to reveal a shapely curve of breast pushing against the desk. "My goodness..." she drawled as she lightly caressed Roche's cock with both hands, drawing them up and down the length of it, circling all around and under his balls. She craned her neck out and licked the tip of the smooth appendage, then absorbed most of the shaft in her warm mouth, not quite making it to the base.

Roche growled, pleased with the sensation, and breathed heavily. He absently smoothed a few escaped wisps of Renzin's hair against her head and pushed deeper into her throat. He could hear her straining to accept the entire length of his cock and he eased back a bit. Placing his hand at the back of her head he tilted his hips up and rhythmically pushed in again and again, venturing a little deeper each time. Renzin obligingly wrapped her lips around his flesh, murmuring and coughing in response.

Reluctantly Roche pulled his cock out, gleaming with a coat of saliva. "Roll over," he commanded brusquely. Renzin maneuvered onto her back and leaned her head back over the edge of the desk. Guiding it with his hand, Roche slid his cock in her mouth and started to thrust immediately, increasing his speed. Renzin's gagging noises turned to eager moans as he slid his hands down the front of her dress and over her puckered nipples. He rubbed with his palms and alternately pinched softly with his fingertips, all the while feeling the tip of his cock nudging the back of Renzin's throat.

Presently Roche threw his head back and let out a long sigh which trailed off into a bit of a chuckle. He slowed his pace and let his engorged cock slide out of its wet encasement. "Come over here," he demanded affectionately, "let me get underneath that dress of yours."

Renzin deftly curled upward and swivelled around on her bottom. Stretching her feet toward the ground but not quite touching it, she grabbed Roche about the waist and pulled him in close, crossing her legs tightly behind him. She dug a hand into his thick hair as he leaned down to kiss her. His warm, dry skin smelled of rich pipe tobacco, smoke and the king's wine.

While they pressed their mouths together Roche absently rubbed his hand up and down somewhere deep under the hiked up hem of Renzin's dress. He pawed at her silky knickers and yanked them down her legs and over her feet as if they were offending him. Between the two of them they managed to clumsily slide her dress over her head, her heavy breasts dropping out one at a time. They continued to kiss sloppily as Roche tried to draw his hands over all the previously hidden parts of her skin.

Roche had some sort of abrupt idea and suddenly put his hands under her and picked Renzin up with her legs still wrapped around his body. Peals of laughter and curses erupted from both of them as he waddled over to the bookcase with his trousers sliding down his lean legs to pool around his ankles. He slammed her a bit harder than intended into the bookcase and by sheer momentum their faces came together again. In the kiss Roche tasted blood and when he pulled back he could see that Renzin's claret lips were redder than before.

"You bit your lip, you clumsy fool," Renzin teased and wiped her mouth with her arm, leaving a red streak.

Roche growled at her with a smile. Using the leverage of the bookcase at her back, he lowered Renzin and tentatively probed at her opening with his cock. She moaned receptively and so he thrust upward, feeling the tight passage of flesh just barely give way.

Renzin gasped and tightened her grasp on Roche's shoulders. He had her clasped about the hips and pulled himself hard into her, shaking the books in their neat rows, easily supporting her weight at the ideal angle. With increasing speed he thrust her against the shelf. His furious yet unstrained pace took Renzin by surprise. She closed her eyes and squeezed her brow up imploringly, feeling her breasts shaking wildly with the impact.

Roche drifted between suckling at Renzin's nipples and licking the sand-colored skin of her sternum, instinctively tracing the swirling patterns there. She arched her back high, pushing her chest into the air and grinding her pelvis in delightful ways against the hardness inside her. She could tell that waves of pleasure were coursing through her but that wine was making it difficult to concentrate on any particular sensation. Fuck it, she thought and relaxed, letting Roche take the lead.

Presently Renzin could feel Roche's grip on her slipping slightly. A dull pinch streaked through her abdomen as his long cock tapped at her cervix. "Aye there, soldier... too deep..." she gasped with a smile.

"Hm?" Roche uttered with surprise and immediately fell out of his rhythmic thrusting. Upon slowing he felt a sudden light-headedness which caused him to grimace and shake his head. He gently let Renzin down to the floor and stumbled toward the fireplace, hopping on one leg to pull off his bunched trousers. "Just need to lie down here a moment..." he managed as he collapsed on the furry hide rug in front of the fire's warm glow.

Renzin padded over a bit more steadily and dropped down beside Roche with her body pasted against his. He encircled her with one arm and placed his other palm flat on his chest, trying to regain his bearings. "Apologies, my lady," he offered sheepishly. "I blame the drink, although you may choose not to believe me."

"Hm, well from here it looks like you're not through yet," Renzin observed slyly while gazing at his still-erect cock lying on his stomach, pulsating in time with his heartbeat.

Roche laughed earnestly. "I am known as a stubborn bastard, it's true. Maybe you could just..." he raised his eyebrows in a cheeky question.

"Mm-hm," Renzin murmured and grabbed his erection firmly in her hand. She started stroking it deftly, gliding over what remained of the moisture that had come from her own body.

Roche groaned in his throat and keenly watched her as she twisted her wrist to reach varying angles over the entirety of his length. With the arm that was wrapped around her body he fumbled at her breast and squeezed it tight. He writhed with his hips and flexed his legs. Renzin's tireless hand kept pace with the indications that he unknowingly gave her.

A mix of pain and relaxation came over Roche's countenance. He grabbed Renzin's hand in his own and pulled it slowly over the entire length of his cock. On the second pass he uttered a growled sigh and squeezed out a viscous pool onto his own abdomen. He sleepily pulled a third time and released his grip to stretch his arm above his head. With his eyes closed, Roche let his head flop in Renzin's direction and exhaled through his mouth, grinning stupidly.

"Congratulations," Renzin declared glibly. She sighed and rolled onto her back, mimicking Roche's own posture, pushing in closer to his arm that still encircled her. The pair lay in silence with the fire casting flickering shadows.

Without warning there was a quiet knock at the door. Roche's eyes immediately flared open and he attempted to bolt to his feet, instead only managing to raise himself on one elbow with one knee in the air. "Do we reply?" he whispered worriedly to Renzin. She also leaned up on her elbows and merely raised a hand to still Roche.

A demure voice spoke from the other side of the closed door. "My lady, you need not confirm your presence," he said, "but if you are to be found within, I am to inform you that His Majesty has requested your attendance in the ballroom as he is about to perform the royal toast." The voice paused, then added, "The same request extends to any whose company you may share." Curt footsteps could then be heard echoing away down the hall.

"Well," Renzin sighed with her eyebrows raised, "I suppose it's only fitting that the commander of the Temerian Special Forces is the one to escort me back to the festivities from whatever corner of the castle I was lost in."

Roche chuckled and shook his head. "My lady, you certainly have aplomb, the likes of which I've very rarely seen in court."

Renzin toyed with her gold choker. "My, my, are you... nervous? Vernon Roche, war hero? It can't be!"

Roche shrugged and groped for his trousers which were in a sad bunch on the floor nearby. "In our short acquaintance I have learned to follow your lead, my lady. Just promise me again that I won't be in the shit with the king. Although, I do readily believe you've got him wrapped around those fingers of yours."

Smiling smugly, Renzin told him, "You won't, and I do."


Geralt slid down further into the steaming water with only his head remaining unsubmerged. "Vernon Roche," he mused. "So, old boy's got some spark to him after all. Must have been red as a beet when you he walked back into that party with you on his arm."

Renzin giggled and looked up at the ceiling. "He handled himself rather well, I'll have you know. I even spent a few more days with him during my stint in Vizima and there were even a few more coincidental encounters in the years following. He's not as stiff as you might think." Geralt opened his mouth to comment and she hastily interjected, "Relatively speaking, anyway."

"Not quite who I expected to see," a familiar, harsh voice proclaimed from behind Geralt, "although you are the type to fuck around with a poor man's head like that."

Geralt turned to see an imposing figure, both in height and circumference. "Dijkstra!" he declared with surprise.

"That's Sigi Reuven to you, whitehair, and this here's my fine establishment you're soiling." The large man looked down and considered Renzin, who was still stretched out in relaxation. "My lady, on the other hand, is surely who I'd expect to see when some man shows up in a daze. Why am I not bloody well surprised to find you and the witcher, of all people, arm in arm like a couple of wenches?"