Chapter 26

Geralt climbed up onto the drivers' bench of the sturdy new wagon that had been gifted to him and his companions. A new, heavy, black fur cloak was wrapped about his broad shoulders over the freshly cleaned leather maile. This wagon was larger and filled with much firewood, food and other provisions that would keep them all well fed and comfortable for weeks in the bitter cold winter as it settled over Temeria. The old mare Roach was tethered to the side, a warm, new blanket on her back, as a team of mighty draft horses were brought over and harnessed. Yet for all the gifts being given to them for helping to capture the mad mage that had invaded the palace, Foltest demanded they leave immediately and discreetly, not wanting people to see the company and perhaps have memories triggered or ask questions that no one could ever hope to answer. So that same day, at dusk, the wagon was loaded up and Root, still unconscious for reasons no one knew, was laid in the back and covered with furs and blankets.

"Thank you, your Grace, for this abundance of generosity." Regis said, bowing low. "If ever you require the skills of a master herbalist or surgeon, I am your humble servant. Hesitate not to send word for me. My shop is in Dillingen, although it may be sometime before I return there."

The king inclined his head. "Thank you, sir. I shall remember you. I am intrigued by your methods and seemingly miraculous ability to heal. So I must inquire before you depart, are you also a mage?"

Emiel Regis smiled in his mysterious way, with pursed lips, and bowed again. "I am not, Excellency. Just some skills I've picked up in my many years. Must keep some trade secrets. Forgive me."

Dandelion came forward and bowed to the king, and then climbed into the back of the wagon in silence. For he was happy to be leaving with the company, but somewhat sad to be leaving the comforts of the city. That, and Foltest had requested he not return for at least a year. Besides Geralt's, the bard's face was the most memorable and his involvement in anything would be noted. So the poet checked on the sleeping woman, and sat next to her, taking out his lute, strumming quietly. The vampire climbed up next to Geralt, who then gave the team a tap and they lurched forward, the wheels leaving impressions in the snow as they rolled through the west entrance to Vizima.

The Witcher heard a snort off to the left of the wagon, and saw a mighty chestnut stallion approach with the figure of Vernon Roche seated upon it, a heavy woolen cloak about his body for warmth.

"I can at least escort you to the mountain pass, although it will be treacherous this time of year, Geralt. Why go that way?" he asked, riding beside the wagon.

"We're going to travel near the Morhen Valley, along the western side of the mountain range, and this is the most direct route from here. We won't make it into the valley before the paths fill up with snow of course, if they haven't already. But I know a place where the river splits, where the mountain stream flows down. There's decent game in that area, fresh flowing water, and on a clear day we should just be able to make out distant Oxenfurt and make our way to it along the river, passing through the woods on the last leg of the journey." The Witcher said.

"Why there?" Roche asked as they turned off the cobblestone roads of the main city and rumbled down the track of the dirt road leading northwest.

The White Wolf wasn't exactly sure why Oxenfurt was the destination. Originally he'd planned to go there seeking Triss Merigold, a dear friend and sorceress whom he'd hoped would help Root when he'd thought her mind had been imprisoned by Falithe. But that seemed ages ago now, even though in actuality it'd only been about two weeks.

"I'm not sure anymore. Maybe just do a tour of the city? Root would enjoy that, and Dandelion." He said. "Maybe someone will have witcher work there. Who knows?"

"I myself am quite full of city life at the moment." Regis said cheerfully. "I could use a trip to the deep woods to harvest some of the rare winter herbs, roots and other plants. So I for one am glad to be leaving. No offense to your fine city, Vernon. I'm sure you understand."

Roche nodded, still not sure what exactly Regis was. But he would bet his last oren that the herbalist and surgeon was not human, what with being able to become invisible at will and his return to the living after getting a crossbow bolt near the heart. Not to mention him having such a powerful, persuasive will when he witnessed the questioning of Arklan aen Caem. But the veteran soldier and friend to Geralt knew enough that leaving things alone when it came to the witcher's friends and companions was often the best thing.

They traveled quietly through the early evening and Root still slept in the back of the wagon, with Regis becoming more concerned for her by the hour. He had connected to her mind and there was nothing but stillness. And none of them understood what had happened between her and Arklan.

As deep night fell it became far too cold for the Witcher to continue on and so he found a sheltered grove of trees. He, Regis, Dandelion and Roche blanketed the horses, gave them their feedbags, and got a large fire going as well. The vampire went to the back for the cooking pots, and soon the men were sharing a meal of warmed up fish soup, good bread and mugs of hot cider to keep the chill off.

"Pardon me, gentleman, but I am going to retire for bit." Regis said and climbed into the back of the wagon, bringing with him a cup of the hot soup.

Dandelion was not at all accustomed to traveling in the freezing cold and it showed, but he bravely tolerated it. Geralt and Roche on the other hand seemed perfectly comfortable despite the wind, both men having experienced far colder regions and extreme conditions during their years of travel.

Inside the wagon, it was comfortable, warm and pleasant. The heavy flaps were down on all sides, blocking the wind, and a lantern was lit and hanging from the top spine of the structure that held the heavy canvas lined with furs. It wasn't wide enough for all of them sleep inside, so they also had heavy fur tents pitched outside near the fire, but the wagon would easily sleep three with plenty of room on the sides for their provisions, most of which though was stowed beneath them, under the carriage or the drivers' seat. The vampire settled himself next to his love, sitting with his back against the pillows and sipped hot soup from the tin cup while thinking about how good a fine smoke would've been right then.

"Mmm…" Root sighed and finally she opened her eyes. "Regis?"

"Yes, I'm here." He said brushing her cheek, relieved to see her awake.

The woman sat up slowly, glancing around at the new environment and ran a hand through her short brown hair.

"I seem to be acquiring a habit of waking up in strange places." She said, turning to him. "Although no longer in the company of strange men. Where's Geralt and Dandelion?"

"They're outside with Vernon. I'm sure they'll be retiring soon as well. It's quite cold out. His majesty was kind to gift us with this carriage and fresh supplies. We're on our way to Oxenfurt. It'll be a slow journey, and we'll be able to see the countryside. I think it'll be good for us all." He explained, handing her the cup of hot soup. "We needed to depart quickly, but we can talk about that another time. No need right now."

Root wrapped her hands around the tin cup and was grateful for the warmth in her belly. And while she was hungry, she remembered that the last time she tried to eat anything of substance landed her in the palace washroom for an hour. So she wasn't eager to eat much just yet. However, she equally felt a longing for a very different liquid and she wondered if she should say anything about it. And that reminded her of something she'd been resolved to tell Regis about since her thought concerned him, but in particular his vampiric nature.

"Regis, I…I want you to know something. Because…well I don't want you to feel like…Well, you see, ever since Geralt let you know about my…you know…oh dear…" she said and Regis found it sweet that she couldn't even talk about her fantasy without blushing.

He waited patiently, deliberately keeping his eyes from meeting hers until she was able to say what he already knew.

"I love you, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy." She said, with Regis finding it wonderful to hear his full name roll of her lips so beautifully. "Not for any of your abilities. I love you…for you. All of you."

The vampire placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her face to meet his eyes, but he did not charm her, only adored her.

"My abilities are a part of me so you can love them too if you like, my dear lady. But I appreciate you telling me. And I love you Root. My wild forest woman, bound to me…forever." He whispered.

"Forever?" she said, gazing up into his dark eyes. "Is that what you meant by…"

"We have eternity now, my love." He finished for her and nodded. "So long as you are nourished by me, you will not die. There is a consequence to such a sharing, and I had hoped to offer this to you in a far lovelier manner. But such was not our path. I hope this pleases you."

The woman was reflective and curious about the concept of living forever. She'd never once considered such a life, what it might be like; the happiness and sadness that might go along with such an extended stay in the world. But her heart and very soul were so filled with love, a love that went beyond words, that any time in the world spent with Emiel Regis was too short, even eternity.

"It does indeed." She said, nestling against his chest. "And I hope you will share with me some more of your life so far. I would very much like to know more about your past, if you're comfortable sharing it with me that is. But…what did you mean by a consequence?"

"There is a risk, Root." He said softly. "My blood is very old, and very potent. An equivalent that comes to mind is that of a strong narcotic, and I cannot have you become addicted to it. Too much and you won't be able to do or think about much else. I had to let you drink a lot in order to heal you, but most will need to be short erm…feeds, as it were; just enough to satiate you, but not enough that it becomes problematic. And as a physician, your physician and healer to our party, I hope you will trust my guidance and wisdom on this subject."

Root nodded, understanding perfectly and trusting him absolutely. However…

"Is that what I'm feeling right now?" she asked, listening to the wind howl around the wagon, and rustle the canvas. "Oh I do hope the others are staying warm."

"Tell me what you're experiencing; your thoughts."

"Well, it's like wanting your favorite food. Like my father used to make the most fabulous pancakes on the wood stove with his trusty cast iron skillet. Served with homemade whipped cream and fresh berries from the forest. Oh, they were so good! I knew I couldn't have them all the time, but when I could, I couldn't get enough! It feels like that, like a longing for that comfort food." She explained, sipping more of the soup.

The vampire nodded. "Speaking of food, that's fish, by the way. You turned your nose up at it when we went to the market because of how it looked, but its good, yes? And good for you too. As for your, what could be called a, symptom, yes, it would seem you are experiencing a slight, very slight, longing for my blood. No more dangerous than wanting your fathers' pancakes. Everyone has those kinds of cravings, and they're perfectly normal. You just happen to want something most others will never have, or even know about. Nothing to worry about. But do let me know if anything ever changes in that regard alright?"

She nodded her consent and finished her tin cup of soup, pleasantly surprised that she was indeed enjoying the rich broth and pink salmon that had been simmered in it. And then her face became reflective, and she paused a while, contemplating the thought that crossed her mind.

"So, you once told me that you don't drink blood. Would you share with me why?" she asked him.

Regis was silent for a moment and softly rubbed her arm as she relaxed against him comfortably.

"Oh my love, it was so long ago now. I was young and like many a youngster I went to parties. And you know how it is, well…erm actually maybe you don't…curious. Well anyways, like many youth I gave into the peer pressure to drink. Of course at vampire parties we drank blood, which for us is like alcohol. Contrary to legend, hemoglobin is not a food source for us; we don't need it to survive. At least my kind doesn't but perhaps some lesser vampires do. But I digress. So having given into the pressure, I drank and got wildly drunk with all my friends and the vampire girls. Alas one night we got too carried away and I ended up staked, doused with holy water and decapitated before the peasants buried me." Regis explained calmly.

Root slowly sat up, turned and stared at him with her jaw slightly agape. Regis' eyes seemed to have a cat-like glow as the lantern light hit them just so and she noticed for the first time that he didn't cast a shadow.

"I believe I mentioned that we, my kind, are very, very hard to kill. It took me fifty years to regenerate but as you can see I managed it. I've sworn off the drink, blood, ever since. So you see a crossbow bolt is a mere annoyance; even if it'd pierced my heart, been made of blessed wood rubbed with garlic or other such prayerful, folksy item from myth." He said, reaching forward and running a finger down the corner of her mouth. "Say something?"

"You…you must be…oh Regis are you some sort of god?" she asked and he couldn't help but laugh heartily, fangs showing and all. He hugged her to his chest, kissing the top of her head.

"Oh no, least I don't think so, my sweet. Powerful, yes, but I do try to remain humble about it. As Geralt will tell you I'm not prone to showcasing my abilities in a way that would unmask me. Mostly I try and blend in, live my life without much incident, much like everyone else. But of course there have been exceptions, as I'm sure there are exceptions to all things in life, certainties being far rarer than most think."

Root felt a little silly for asking him, but she'd never heard of a being with such power that wasn't some sort of spirit or god. Regis saw her embarrassed look and turned her chin to meet his gaze.

"Forgive me, my love. It was a fine question and I apologize if my mirthful response embarrassed you. But it isn't everyday someone wonders if you're a divine being." He said and stroked his index finger between her eyes, making her blush and smile again. "It is a curious thing though, that you will now drink my blood at times, where as I choose to abstain. Although I will admit, your blood has a wonderful scent and is very tempting. It's a shame that so much of it was spilled on the palace floor."

She gazed up at him, wondering, but chose to remain silent. But the vampire guessed correctly what Root had been thinking.

"I thank you, but no. There may come a time where I cannot refuse an offer, whether yours or another's', but it is not this day. Believe me, my dear; it is not without some effort that I refuse you." He said softly.

She lay again on his chest as he held her. "Your blood is so wonderful, Regis. The taste is…it's like…"

"Hush now. Thinking about it that way only makes the longing more difficult to endure. Now, I had mentioned the market earlier and I believe you have something that you need to give to someone." He said, changing the subject away from blood, his or otherwise.

"Oh! I forgot about Geralt's present! What with everything that happened since then I never gave it to him. I do hope it's here." She said sitting up.

"It is indeed. I packed our things from the smaller cart into this one myself, its right here. If you're feeling up to it, why don't you go give it to him? I think there are some things our Geralt would like to say to you as well. He's been um, very self-critical since your near-death experience and I think talking may help. Oh, and do me a favor and remember this phrase, "No, I don't mind." He said with a strange, sly smile on his handsome face. "Off you go."