Chapter 45
The next several days passed by without incident, with each member of the group doing what they could to help each other and make their camp more comfortable and productive. And still, none of the Witchers' party saw Speaker Errol. The man may as well have vanished, but of course they knew he must be around or Valonna would've inquired after him. Root's wounds continued to heal under the care of the master healer, who had her on a regimen of drinking healing teas, easy stretches and light exercise throughout the day and plenty of water. The woman also got generous portions of food for her meals and she didn't need to be sedated to relieve her pain after about a week, being able to sleep on her own with little discomfort. After another week went by of fine, warmer winter weather, walking was getting much easier such that she could do fine on her own, but shifting to her wolf form was still completely out of the question as Regis was certain the change would stress the wounds and reverse the progress made. Root, though, missed her wild form.
As late afternoon fell, just about two weeks after the confrontation with the Speaker, Root was seated beside the fire, sewing some more of her sign amulets to sell whenever they made it to a market. Dandelion was bustling around the outdoor kitchen and she could scent the delicious aroma of wild turkey being prepared with garlic and onions. Geralt was brushing down the horses while Regis gave them their feed bags and covered them with blankets. He handed each of them a carrot and gave them a pat.
"I bet you long for a tasty summer apple don't you ole girl?" he said, rubbing Roach's muzzle. "Me too."
Root swallowed, feeling a familiar sensation in her throat, but hid her reaction as Dandelion came to the fire with the covered iron crock filled with a stuffed turkey surrounded by a bright selection of winter vegetables.
"Ahh here we go. Just need to nestle this into these fine embers and it should be ready in a few hours. Hungry, Root?" the bard asked.
"Always." She said with a big smile. "You're quite the cook, master bard."
"I'm master of many things, my dear." He said with a wink that made her flush bright pink from her ear tips to her toes. "That's the look I missed!"
Dandelion gave her a friendly kiss on the head and went to start making dessert.
The woman's eyes then caught those of her vampire love gazing at her with a knowing look. She quickly looked away, ashamed of her feelings, ashamed that she felt such a craving but fought fiercely to control it, ashamed that she thought of tearing into live prey to drain them of their blood. Regis ached for her. He knew how difficult it was to master the thirst, having once struggled with it himself. And yet unlike him, Root could not go without drinking, and it had to be his blood, for nothing else in all the worlds would slake that thirst. He walked to her and laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Do not be ashamed, my love." He whispered. "You're doing very well. You are strong."
Root swallowed again, swearing she could hear the blood rushing through his veins, and it took all of her strength to not lean toward his wrist, so near her mouth. He gently squeezed her shoulder, unafraid, trusting her completely, reading her thoughts.
"Very good." He said proudly as she turned her mind toward other things, diverting her attention. "Well done."
"Geralt! Come quickly, please." Valonna called out from the elven camp.
Everyone looked up, hearing the distinct sound of worry. She was near the switchback when the white haired warrior approached.
"There." She said, pointing into the darkening valley. "See the riders?"
At the base of the cliff side, beginning the ascent, were indeed several riders on horseback, each bearing a torch. Even his keen eyes couldn't make them out from that distance, but he wasn't going to take any chances.
"Get the children. All of you inside your tents until I say it's clear. Where the fuck is that worthless Speaker of yours?" Geralt asked.
"I'm here, Gwynbleidd." Errol replied, appearing for what seemed like the first time in two weeks. "What can I do?"
"You're their leader. You're with me. Arm yourself." Geralt said.
"I'm not much of a leader but…"
"Then start being one you twit." The hunter growled. "No time for your self-pity now. Pull yourself together, we don't know who comes."
Errol nodded and helped Valonna round up the little ones, setting one of his scouts near the top to watch the advance of the riding party. Geralt returned to their camp.
"Root, get inside the carriage. You too Dandelion." He said strapping on his twin blades.
"What's going on?" Root asked as the bard helped her stand.
"Riders ascending the switchback. I counted at least eight. Could be nothing, but we need to be prepared. Regis, with me." The warrior said.
Regis nodded to the bard, but Root held his hand.
"I can help, my love. I can." She said, gazing into his dark eyes. "You know I fight well."
But the healer shook his head.
"No, me minne. Your wounds will open again if you change. I'm sure of it. You're almost fully healed. It may be humble travelers like us, no need to worry. Off you go."
But she was worried as the bard gently pulled her away. Root climbed up into the carriage with the poet following behind and Regis latched it closed. He then joined Geralt, Errol and the two elven archers at the top of the switchback. No one had their weapons drawn, but five men together, one of them clad in silvery maile with witcher swords on his back, the other hooded and leaning on a heavy recurve longbow almost as tall as himself, with another figure, unarmed, looking calm and mysteriously dark being backlit by the campfires, were quite the imposing sight.
As the sun set, the switchback was lost in darkness. All they could see as they watched was the advance of torchlight.
"Surely they must've seen us?" Errol said, glancing at Geralt. "If they were hostile they'd have done something by now; said something."
Geralt nodded, keeping his eyes on the advancing party as they rounded the last curve and began climbing the path that would take them to the top, right to their position. Regis raised his head, scenting a familiar tang on the air. Near their camp, a chestnut horse whinnied and he heard Root's voice.
"No, Dandelion, it's fine. I know who it is."
"Temerian draft horses, Geralt." Regis commented. "Rogues or deserters wouldn't have such fine steeds."
The chestnut stallion cantered forward as the lead rider cleared the top and slipped the black wool hood from his head. The Witcher grinned and breathed a sigh of relief as the rest of the riders circled around, with the last rider pulling a covered cart.
"Ah. You are still here then, eh? My scouts deserve a raise. Glad we were able to reach you, Geralt. Emiel, good to see you again." He said dismounting.
"Vernon!" Root called, walking slowly toward them with Dandelion helping.
"Why is she limping?" Vernon asked, patting his old stallion as it nudged him for the apple in his pouch. "Hey, ole boy. Yeah, yeah, here."
"Long story." Geralt said, resisting the urge to glare at the Speaker. "Tell your people it's fine to come out, Errol. This is a trusted friend."
The Speaker nodded, shouldered his bow and returned to the camp just as the forest maiden reached them and threw her arms around Vernon's neck.
"I'm sorry, Regis. I tried to stop her, I did! But she…well…never mind…"
The soldier hugged her back, pleased to see the woman he'd spent many nights thinking about since leaving.
"Greetings, Root." Roche said. "It makes me happy to see you again. But why are limping? What's happened?"
"Oh, never mind. It's wonderful to see you." She said. "But goodness what are you doing out here?"
"I've much to report. Let my men and I set up camp, unload our tired mounts and I shall join you soon." Vernon replied and began issuing orders to the soldiers with him.
"We shall be glad of it, Vernon." Regis replied and turned to the poet, crossing his arms, and giving him a stern look.
"Regis, now look. You know how hard it is to say no to her. I tried to keep her in there. But she just…I…I couldn't stop myself. I'm sorry." He said, with the vampire turning his head curiously.
"What do you mean?" he asked, glancing at Root, who was making her way back to camp with Geralt.
"I…I don't know exactly. I just…she told me to help her down from the carriage and even though my brain was telling me not to, I found myself doing it. It's…yeah…I've no idea." Dandelion explained.
"She's testing her powers." Regis replied with a sly grin. "What did she say? What did she do? How did it feel? Forgive my curiosity but this is fascinating! She's the only one of her kind in our world and we get to watch her discover how her unique nature operates. Tell me what you can."
"Uhhh well, um, ok. Well, she didn't do anything per se." the bard began. "All I know is that she made this sort of face at me, like a kind of…pout. Like, oh man how do I say this…"
"Like a woman who wants sex and shyly smiles up at you?" Regis answered for him.
"Yes! Exactly like that. She just…oh man those green eyes. She just looked at me and told me to help and…that was it. But the weird thing about it is that I knew what I was doing, I just couldn't stop. It felt really strange." He said. "If I'm honest it was a little frightening. I see now why those cultists ran away. She can project…things…into you."
"Explain." Regis said as they made a wide circle around the camp to continue their talk.
Dandelion was quiet for a moment, trying to find words to explain how he felt when the forest maiden had looked at him. He continued.
"So I said to her, "Root, no, you have to stay here. How can you know who that is?" And she answered, "I can smell him." Which, can she? I suppose so. Anyways, I kept on, saying, "Regis will likely tan my hide if I don't keep you here." And that's when she stopped, turned her head in that cute way that she does, and looked right up into my eyes and said, "Please help me down from the carriage, master bard." And I felt…like I felt this overwhelming urge to aid her such that I found my body moving and my brain screaming at me. It's like…she…"
"She projected into you the urge to help her because she seemed so small, so needing of your help. Like an irresistible need to defend an innocent." Regis said and the bard practically leapt into the air.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, and then lowered his voice. "That's exactly it. Wait, how do you know this?"
"Vampire abilities, it would seem, are similar in some ways. My power is more of a domination of the mind. Whereas our Root seems to exude some sort of aura that entices others to do as she says, but without completely negating their free will; more seductive than domineering. However, as you said, it would also seem she can project other things as well. Power, for example. Making herself seem more than she is. Like a blowfish puffing itself up to look more menacing."
"A what?" Dandelion said with a raised eyebrow.
"Never mind." Regis answered. "And yes, she can smell blood from far away. I would wager from very far because of her wolf senses, perhaps her own vampiric nature and of course my own blood coursing through her veins. So that's what she did to the cultists, eh? Projected a huge amount of confidence and power, and coupled that with aggressive movements to scare the pants off of them while sapping their energy. Clever girl."
"And you know what, Regis? I'm not sure she knows what she's doing." The bard said as they neared the camp.
"Oh, I know she knows." Regis said in almost a whisper, tapping the side of his head. "Well, I should clarify; she knows what she did to you and to the zealots. There are other times she's been unaware. She's still learning. But more later."
The two men returned to their fire. Geralt had gone to help Vernon and company unpack the supply laden horses and set up their tents, with Errol and some of the elves assisting them as well. Which pleased Regis to see the Speaker making himself useful rather than sulking about somewhere as he'd been wont to do since the confrontation. Roche's men placed their camp across from the carriage home, adjacent to the elves. And soon the large, spacious tents of rich, royal blue were up with fires blazing in front of each. The banners of the Temerian lillies and the Blue Stripes marked the outside of Vernon Roche's personal tent situated closest to Geralt's camp. Dandelion helped by bringing supplies of firewood to the new members, as well as checking on the elves. Root watched everyone being useful and sighed, returning to her sewing of amulets. Regis poured a cup of tea and sat beside her.
"Soon, my love. Here you are." He said handing her the cup.
Root smiled and sipped the healing herbal that Regis had been making. The vampire gazed at her with his dark eyes, admiring the woman he loved so much. The firelight flickered and danced across her skin, now so much paler in the winter than it had been when they'd first met in late summer. Her short hair curled just below her earlobe, and her fingers worked a needle and thread effortlessly as she sewed pieces of oak, mistletoe, lavender, chamomile and redcoat cap into her last piece of light purple fabric.
"Axii?" Regis asked. "Let me see. Oak for strength of mind, mistletoe for attraction, yes? Lavender and chamomile to calm and redcoat, also known as crimson vision, so they see what you want them to?"
The woman smiled brightly and nodded. "I love that you can work that out. Yes. Axii. Only this one will be for those who want to draw love or a lover to themselves. A bit on the edgier side of magical working but some people will want it."
Regis pondered the notion of a lover gained by magical influence and whether it could be considered true love or not. But she was right; there were people who'd pay for it.
"True enough." He said softly.
The bard was helping to unload the small cart, and in it he spied a short, wide barrel filled with apples. And next to it a crate with several bottles of what could only be…
"Mead!" he said excitedly. "Vernon, my man, I hope we can pass this around."
The commander of the Blue Stripes gave him a grin as he lifted more of the supplies from the cart, walking them to his large tent.
"Crack open a bottle, Dandelion. My men and I could use a drink." He said.
Dandelion set down the crate of booze and grabbed a bottle.
"Better uncork two." Roche said, clapping him on the shoulder. "We're thirsty."
When everyone had finally settled in, Vernon issued orders for his men to participate in the nightly watch schedule, and then joined Geralt and company at their fire. They immediately wanted news of Foltest and the wars in other nations. But Root, who had no interest in such things, looked over at the elves. The camp of aen seidhe was quiet that night, unsure what to make of the small troop of soldiers that had joined them; even though the Witcher had said they could be trusted. Errol sat at his fire, oiling the wood of his powerful sniping bow made of the strong, supple wood of Brokilon forest itself. Next to him lay a shorter version of the same for closer targets. Valonna and Cera sat together opposite him, the elven woman rocking the child and humming. Root watched them, her eyes lingering on the elven leader, and she felt a mixture of fear and anger when she thought about what had happened. But she made up her mind and rose from the fire, the men all looking up at her, but she smiled and waved away any help.
"No, no, please continue, gentleman. I just need to get a few things." She said, and went to the storage area underneath the carriage seat.
Root lined two, small woven baskets with flour sack towels and filled them with some of the sugar cookies that Dandelion had made for dessert one night. But in one of them, she placed two amulets, one quen and one aard. She then poured a glass of chilled goat milk and set the items on a tray. Turning, she looked to the elven camp, took a breath, and headed over. Regis glanced up as she passed and the ghost of a smile appeared on his face, but he remained silent.
Valonna was the first to see her coming and smiled warmly, motioning her over. Root passed the Speaker, who glanced at her but said nothing, continuing to tend to his prized weapons. The forest maiden set the tray on a log stump and Cera slid down her mothers' lap and hopped up into Root's arms.
"Hi, bleidd!" she said and gave her a nuzzle, nose to nose, giggling. "You better?"
"I'm doing much better, thank you." Root said, much cheered by the friendly greeting. "And thank you for the wonderful picture. You're quite the artist, Cera."
The little girl squealed with joy and hugged her as she sat beside the elven mother.
"Greetings, Root. It is good to see you." Valonna said with a nod.
"It's great to be up and about. And it's so much warmer too, thank the spirits." She said. "I brought a bit of a bedtime treat, if that's alright, to share."
Root handed Valonna the small basket of cookies and nodded to the milk.
"Of course." She said as Cera clapped. "Alright, alright, little one, just a few. Thank you, Root."
"Cookies!" Cera said, shoveling one of the heavily sugared, cream colored discs into her mouth.
Her eyes lit up, as she licked the crystal bits of sugar that the bard had dusted the finished cookies with. Cera enjoyed her glass of milk while the two women chatted amiably together about the day's events and the arrival of the soldiers.
"We were nervous at first." Valonna said. "But seeing how you all know the man Vernon Roche so well, it's quite clear we have nothing to fear from them. How did you come to know this man of the court?"
Root thought back to her time spent at the palace, her face darkening as painful memories stirred. She remembered Roche standing in the dungeon, lit by torchlight, stern and powerful in his bearing. Root had lingered on that image before, but she quickly chased it away, coming back to the moment. And too she thought of Arklan, glancing over to Errol.
"That's…kind of a long story and, one I can't share much of. Let's just say he and I met in a meadow one night and I fainted." She replied with a smile, biting into a cookie.
"I see." The woman replied, respecting Root's desire for privacy. "Well, to those of us who live in the wilds, it's strange to see the banners of the city folk and not view them as aggressors. I'm sure you understand. One more Cera and then we need to get you ready for bed."
"Awww, mama." Cera pouted, sipping the milk, which left a white line above her lip. "Bleidd beanna sleep over?"
The women laughed together, and Root reached over and tousled her hair.
"I'm afraid not, little one. I've got to make sure Gwynbleidd and the others are protected, safe and sound too." Root said, reaching into her pocket. "Here. I'd like you to have this."
Root opened her palm and in it lay a red igni amulet hanging from some cotton twine.
"I made some protection amulets with powerful, magical plants from the forest. And you know what?" the werewolf said, leaning forward, whispering.
"What?" Cera said, fascinated by any talk of magic.
"The White Wolf himself infused these with witcher power." She said and Cera gasped, her eyes widening. "It will keep you safe. You might even be able to feel the warmth of the sign that lives inside the pouch. Never open it though, or the magic will escape. OK?"
The small elf nodded and Valonna smiled as Root slipped the amulet over Cera's head.
"Time for sleep, little Cera. What do you say?"
"Thank you, wolf woman Root. Wait…" Cera said, and climbed down from Valonna's lap, and rushed across the snow paths to where Geralt sat with the gentleman of the party.
The White Wolf leaned down to the child and then smiled when she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. His golden eyes found Root across the camp and the werewolf waved at him. Cera raced back and jumped up into Errol's waiting arms. The elven man kissed the child on the forehead and handed her off to the mother.
"Good night, little Cera." He said kindly. "I'll see you soon, Val. My watch isn't for a while yet. I'd just like to finish this up."
"Very well. Thank you for the gifts, Root." Valonna said. "Good night."
"Sleep well." Root replied and waved at Cera, who looked back at her over Valonna's shoulder.
The forest maiden turned to Errol, who had seated himself again at the fire and picked up his short bow, examining the drawstring. Root softly bit her lip, and set the second basket down near him.
"Good night, Speaker." She said quietly, and grabbed the tray with empty glass.
The elf looked at the basket and lowered his bow. He was completely unsure what to do or think.
"Wait." He said finally, and Root turned, meeting his blue eyes.
The elf looked into the basket, seeing the cookies and the two amulets resting on the top.
"Is it true? What you told Cera about the Witcher infusing these with power?" he asked, holding one of them in his palm.
Root nodded. "It is. That one is quen, the other is aard. Both are forms of protection."
"One offensive, one defensive." He replied. "You made these yourself?"
"Yes. To help us make a bit of coin when we reach Oxenfurt." She replied.
The Speaker actually smiled at her. "Thank you."
Root nodded and gestured to his bows. "Beautiful craftsmanship those. The wood is from Brokilon if I'm not mistaken. You must be a decent shot to have such masterworks."
Speaker Errol shrugged. "I've been known to be. You know the great forest of the dryads then?"
"I've not been there, no. Studied it, and I've some druidic knowledge and lore. But I lived with some elves for a time some years ago, and several of them had bows of similar make. They're powerful and silent when they release, making them great for hunting." She said, remembering her time spent with the aen seidhe, acting as their land warden.
"They are indeed. So you lived with elves?" Errol asked. "And they…they knew what you were…erm…are?"
"Yes. After my father died and I left the homestead. And yes, they knew. They taught me much herbal lore and some of their language, although I only know a few words here and there really." She replied with a long yawn. "Oh, my. I should be going."
"Of course." Errol said quietly. "I apologize if I kept you."
"No, no it's…just, long day is all." She said and turned to leave.
Root made it about half way back to the camp, hearing the sounds of Vernon, Geralt, Dandelion, a couple of the soldiers and Regis all playing Barrel around an overturned crate, when Errol got up quickly and followed her.
"Wait." He called, and reached for her, stopping short of laying a hand on her shoulder when Regis locked eyes with him from across the camp. "Root, wait."
The woman turned, oblivious to the vampires' unspoken warning to the elf. The Speaker lowered his hand and his hood.
"I…I'm sorry; for what I said and for your injuries." He said and Root's eyes widened. "I would like it if we could talk again sometime. If…if you'd do me the pleasure."
The woman was speechless as her green eyes filled with tears.
"I…I would like that." She managed to reply, wiping her eyes. "Thank you…"
But her voice broke and she had to turn away before breaking down into a mess of emotion, walking as quickly as her sore feet could take her to the home on wheels. The Speaker looked to Regis and nodded once, then returned to his own fire.
"All right, gentlemen, who's in and who's out?" Dandelion said with a heap of coins piled up on his side of the crate and a pipe clenched in his teeth.
"I think another bottle is in order." Roche said getting up from the make-shift card table. "I'll sit this hand out. Kick his ass, Wolf."
Geralt too was enjoying a smoke and grinned while shuffling the deck. "With pleasure. Regis, you in?"
"Not this round. I'll get the fire stoked up and I should check Root's bandages too." He replied and rose.
"All right, boys. Get ready to lose it all to the man responsible for divesting all, and I do mean all, of Novigrad's ladies of their maidenhood. Dandelion is in the house." The bard said, taking a long pull from a stein of honey wine. "Come on, Geralt, deal already."
