Chapter 21 – On the Path

Eskel crouched in the high bushes on the edge of the clearing, hidden by the dense foliage from everyone's eyes. Even from those of the young Griffin, who circled about ten meters above and aimed at the goat that the witcher had tethered as bait in the middle of the clearing.

After traveling for a week, he had almost reached the Kestrel Mountains. The nights had been chilly, but he had expected that. He usually would have spent at least three more weeks in Kaer Morhen until winter had finally given way to spring. This year, however, he was drawn to the path much earlier than usual ...

Actually, Eskel had intended to travel by the quickest route to Oxenfurt and, on the way, only accept small contracts, that would not take much time.

But when he entered the village of Dagren six days ago, the residents greeted him in unexpectedly friendly ways. Even though Eskel was also critically eyed and children were hurriedly sent into the houses and huts by their mothers, the villagers did not spit out or shouted filthy insults when he rode past them, as in most other villages. The eldest himself had come to him when he had settled in the local tavern. The man was still stately despite his advanced age. He sat down opposite Eskel at the table where he was having a meal. Apparently the chief didn´t want to lose time and immediately came to the reason of his appearance in the tavern.

The area surrounding the village had been terrorized by the Griffin for some time. At first the animal had confined itself to stealing sheep from the pastures. Four weeks ago, however, a human had fallen prey to the winged beast - the shepherd, who had recklessly tried to chase away the Griffin from his herd when it was hunting again. Apparently, the man had tasted excellent, because since then, the Griffin had attacked people in addition to the usual sheep again and again.

Most had succeeded in escaping to a nearby building or in the protection of the forest - but not the half-grown son of the miller. His gnawed bones had been found days later on the banks of a stream where the Griffin had evidently consumed his meal.

Therefore, the villagers understandably welcomed the appearance of a witcher in their settlement. Eskel was aware that hunting a Griffin would take several days, or even weeks, at worst. But if he declined, there would probably be more victims in the village.

In addition, Eskel did not intend to damage his reputation as a reliable representative of his guild by abandoning the villagers in their distress. And the offered 300 Ducats were not to be despised either.

So Eskel had spent the last few days following the track of the Griffin. When he came across bones that layed scattered at the foot of a mountain, he knew where to find the nest. The search had required a short climb, as the eyrie was on a ledge out of reach of the mountain trail. There were no eggs in the nest - so the threat to the villagers should be eliminated once the beast was killed.

Eskel had identified a clearing not far from the eyrie as a suitable place for an ambush, leashed a goat with a stake in the ground on the grass, and retreated into the bushes. The crossbow lay on his forearm, a bolt inserted and the tendon taut. For several hours he had already remained motionless in his hiding place. A few minutes ago, the winged hybrid had finally appeared.

The Griffin began diving on the complaining goat, who could not escape the approaching death. He jerked his wings up and thrust his legs first toward his victim. However, before the beast could slap its claws into the frightened animal, the crossbow pin hit it sideways into the chest and penetrated deep into the body below the right wing. The Griffin screamed bloodcurdling and hit hard on the ground. The screams of the goat ceased in the shriek of the beast.

Eskel jumped out of his hideout, the silver sword pulled. He threw the sign Axii on the Griffin to confuse the senses of the wounded creature. The Griffin, who had previously tried to reach the wound in his chest with the tip of its beak, now shook his head dazed. The hybrid apparently hadn´t noticed the witcher approaching from the side yet. Eskel reached his prey with a few long strides and jumped up, sword raised. The powerful blow hit the Griffin on the side of the neck. The main artery ruptured and a torrent of hot blood spilled over the flank of the beast. Eskel swerved sideways and, with a few strides, moved out of reach of the powerful wings of the raptor-like monster.

The Griffin, who now had his attacker firmly in view, had dropped to its front claws. With every heartbeat, a small torrent of blood was pumped out of its wound. It seemed to mobilize the last remaining powers and jumped at the witcher, then crawled on long claws in his direction. Eskel remained where he stood, ready to stop the dying Griffin with the help of another sign. But the beast collapsed a few feet before it reached the witcher. There was nothing to hear except for the wheezing of the Griffin. It seemed as if all the animals in the woods had stopped making sounds, so as not to attract the attention of the opponents. Even the goat kept silent, still prevented from escaping by the taut rope. After a short while the wheezing sound died down, the Griffin had taken its last breath. As the pulse came to a halt, the steady stream of blood from the neck wound also dried up.

Eskel pulled a cloth out of his pocket and cleaned his sword. This had been easier than expected. The Griffin must have been really young and inexperienced. Bad luck for the beast. Good for the witcher.

From the saddlebag, which was still in the bushes, Eskel fetched an empty bottle. When he had accepted the Griffin contract, he had come up with the idea to draw a private benefit from it as well. During the fight he had taken care not to hurt the backbone of the griffin. That's why he had not been able to raise his sword to behead the beast. Eskel pulled his stiletto out of his bootleg and made the first cut to access the spinal fluid of the Griffin. He would not miss this opportunity to please Thalia. When the bottle was filled and stowed, Eskel went to the still-bound goat. The animal had apparently overcome its fear and now made its displeasure of being abused as a bait known loudly. Eskel squatted next to the goat and stroked his hand over the fur. "Easy, my little friend. You did well. Incidentally, you remind me of one of your conspecifics." The goat acknowledged the petting only with a new mowing. Eskel smiled. "Well, come on then. I'll take you home, you little bleater."

With the reward in his pocket, Eskel had made his way back to the pass in the Kestrel Mountains the very next day. Two days later he arrived in Ghelibol, a small town on the banks of the Nimnar. If armed soldiers were seldom seen in Kaedwen, it was obvious that this changed in Redania. As a border town to the eastern neighbor, Ghelibol housed a large garrison of the Redan army. If necessary, the soldiers stationed there could hold the crossing at the pass in the Kestrel Mountains and defend the Redanian border.

Since King Radovid VI had taken over the government of Redania, diplomatic relations with the neighboring empires were sometimes strained. Although Eskel did not follow the political developments in detail, he was worried about the rapid deterioration of the situation. And not only the situation at the borders was partly explosive. Even within Redania there were riots and attacks - especially against non-humans, as far as he had heard in Kaedwen.

After spending the night in Ghelibol and exchanging his Kaedweni Ducats in Crowns, he took the road to Tretogor. He would rather have avoided the capital - witchers had never been welcome visitors there - but a detour would cost him several days. And Eskel was not ready to lose any more time.

He was so eager to finally be with Thalia again. To touch her, to see her smile and to hear her voice. In the long weeks in Kaer Morhen, after Thalia had left, he had more often given in to the bottle than was good for him. Lambert had followed him suit, so the two witchers had spent the evenings wistfully mumbling their respective memories. Lambert still did not seem to be over the separation from Keira - even though he denied it vehemently. Eskel would not be surprised if his brother was on his way to Kovir, where the blond sorceress had her current residence according to Triss.

Often Eskel had become the target of Lambert's ridicule when the younger man made fun of his brother's separation pain. However, Eskel had the impression that Lambert would have gladly traded places with him.

But as much as he looked forward to see Thalia again - worries crept into his thoughts. Would everything be the same between them as it was when they parted? Maybe she had changed her mind by now? Had the time at the academy allowed her rational side to gain the upper hand? He could not blame her.

He hoped very much for her that she had received her professorship. Professor van de Wintervoord.

Eskel still saw no way how it could work in the long run between them. A relationship with a witcher was more than a problem for a respectable woman even in liberal areas. For a professor in Redania in times when all strangers were met with increasing mistrust, however, this was already a social suicide. She had done so much to get that position - under no circumstances did Eskel want to be responsible for her losing everything she had fought for.

As hard as it would have been, but he had even thought about ending their relationship – for her own sake.

But he knew he would not be strong enough for that.

After housing Scorpion in a rental barn and securing a good treatment with a few extra coins, Eskel set out to find accommodation for the night. It was already dawning and the witcher was moving swiftly through the streets and alleys.

Armed guards met him in small groups, eyeing him critically. Eskel strove for a decidedly harmless expression and a defensive posture. But he was a conspicuously apparition, with the witchers' swords on his back and disfigured by his scar.

His saddlebags shouldered, Eskel walked through one of the many narrow alleys that branched off the market square. His sensitive hearing became aware from afar that a dispute was afoot at the intersection to which he was addressing.

The light of a lantern fell on three members of the city guard, who pushed a slender figure against a wall. "You lousy elf will think twice in the future in whose pockets you put your long fingers," whispered the tallest of the three uniformed men to the oppressed. He grabbed the slender man by the shoulders and pushed him firmly against the wall.

The elf mumbled an apology and tried to dodge to escape the encirclement of the three strong men. However, the one closest to him roughly pushed him back. "You will not get away so quickly, you scum." He struck the elf hard in the pit of his stomach. The slender elf suppressed a scream, but cringed in pain. "Perhaps we should inform the order of Eternal Fire what you are doing." The tallest of the guards leaned down to the elf, who was still crouching against the wall. "They make short work of the likes of you. How many stolen goods would they find in your hut, eh? Soon the pyres burn again and then you and your kind are among the first to be roasted."

Eskel knew he should stay out of it. Witchers did not interfere in the affairs of others. But there were always exceptions ... Damn, he did not want to get any more problems. Why did he always have to get into such situations?

Eskel stayed in the shadows, walking almost silently towards the group. The guards had turned their backs on him, but the elf - on closer inspection Eskel could see that it was still a youngster - had noticed him and looked at him seeking for help.

Before the three guards could turn to him, Eskel casted Axii. The men froze in their movements, their expression suddenly oddly distant. The elf opened his eyes in surprise, stared at Eskel partly anxious, partly relieved.

"Get out of here," Eskel whispered to him. The boy didn´t have to be told twice. He rushed smoothly past the men, who seemed to be in a trance, and disappeared behind the next corner of a house.

Eskel paused behind the guards. "Stay here and count the stones of this wall," he ordered the three men.

Then he set off again to look for an inn. Behind him he heard the guards, muttering to each other, counting stone by stone. They would be busy for a while, at least as long as his sign was active. Time enough for the young elf to escape. He did not know if the city guards would really have made their threat true or if the boy had been rightly charged. But the mere mention of that damnable Order of the Eternal Fire had been enough to make him take sides.

Throughout Redania, these fanatics regained influence. He had heard that in Novigrad even these wretched witch hunters were at work again. Radovid's successor apparently intended to follow in the footsteps of his predecessor and "cleanse" his kingdom of sorcerers, non-humans and others. It was only a matter of time before Redania would hunt down witchers, so Eskel had no illusions.

Tomorrow he would leave early in the morning. Only about 100 miles, then he would finally reach Oxenfurt ...