Book 2: The Wolf Hunts

Chapter 4

Ban Ard; a month earlier

Gretel knew two things about herself – that she had always enjoyed sex and that she had always possessed a vivid imagination. The latter she had discovered and developed as a child; the former as a teenager. Her parents had married young, and she'd been born shortly after. However, she'd never known her father, as he had been a casualty in one of the countless battles between Kaedwen and Aedirn over the Lormark - the disputed land of Upper Aedirn that the two countries had been warring over for centuries. Her birth had been very difficult and complicated for her mother, leaving the woman unable to conceive again. Gretel had, therefore, never had any younger siblings to play with despite the steady flow of boyfriends that entered and left her mother's bedroom. She had grown up mostly alone and, thus, had been forced to rely on her imagination to keep from being so lonely and bored. She spent countless hours playing by herself - and, later, as she got older, while doing chores - day-dreaming that she was a beautiful princess in a world full of evil witches, dark castles, dangerous monsters, and, of course, daring and dashing knights.

She fell in love at the age of eleven with Heinrich, the first boy to show her any kind of real attention. They began having sex a couple of years later, and they married at fifteen, just like her parents. But in a cruel twist of fate, she had, just like her mother, become a war-widow several years ago when, once again, Kaedwen – including Heinrich and the rest of the Ban Ard troops - invaded the Lormark. At that point, there were several paths she could have taken to deal with her grief and to move on with life, but she'd learned too well from her mother, and she'd begun using sex to combat the loneliness, pain, and emptiness that she felt inside. Not coincidentally, she soon rediscovered the vivid imagination that she'd developed as a little girl, pretending with each encounter that she was still in the arms of her beloved Heinrich. It was still something she practiced many years later as a prostitute in Madame Spraven's Ban Ard brothel. Though, over time, she had also begun to supplement that imagination with a steady and daily dose of fisstech. One's imagination could only do so much for so long, after all.

Gretel, her body still covered in sex-induced sweat and her mind still slightly addled with narcotics, led three men down the backstairs of the newly-converted brothel and towards the magical tower on the east side of the Academy grounds. She knew that, technically, she wasn't supposed to the leave the whorehouse with clients – and certainly not without Madame Spraven's approval - but she had been curious about the dark and mysterious castle since laying eyes on it less than a week ago, and none of her friends and co-workers would accompany her on a proposed adventure within. Given that one of the three men was her last customer for the night and given that he'd bought her services for the hour and had only used a quarter of that time, then what better way to spend the last forty-five minutes on the clock. It certainly beat having him on top of her again.

Unbeknownst to her, the three men – her client and his two friends - were witch hunters visiting the brothel incognito. They were there not in their normal attire, for as official members of the church of the Eternal Fire they were not supposed to consort with prostitutes. However, throughout their service to the church while in Redania and, especially, while traveling through Kaedwen, that had never stopped the three "pious" men before. Though, they did have enough sense to hide their sexual proclivities from their fellow brothers of the Flame. They didn't want to ruin a good gig after all – actually getting paid to kill magic users, and with no repercussions at that. They had agreed with Gretel that a night-time romp through the castle was a grand idea. Just from the looks that they gave one another, it was clear that they were all thinking the same thing – that the whore might give all three of them a freebie once they got her alone in the creepy palace.

The four entered the dark castle as quietly as their drug-impaired brains would allow. They had one small torch among the group, and they were all clustered tightly around it. As they investigated the magical foyer and hallways, with the three witch hunters all carrying swords in their hands, they kept up an endless stream of whispering and non-sensical laughter, followed by one of the four immediately shushing the others. Eventually, they came to a room on the first floor with the door closed. They slowly entered and were shocked to see a gaggle of kids all sleeping on mattresses spread throughout the room.

"What do we got here? Some witches left behind?" asked one of the witch hunters loudly, now more alert than before and pointing his sword at the children, who were all suddenly awake and staring wide-eyed at the intruders.

Some were slightly in shock and cowering with their covers in front of them while a few – mostly the older ones - had jumped from their beds and were poised for battle.

"Uh huh…and a pretty one at that," answered his compatriot.

In the torch light, a teenage girl's long blond hair had caught his eye, and he took several steps toward her and grabbed her arm, causing her to scream.

"Don't touch her!" yelled one of the male teenagers, bringing his hand down violently and knocking the witch hunter's hand away from the girl.

That was all it took for chaos to ensue. Swords were swung, screams rent the air, and blood was shed. Quickly, the one-sided skirmish was over, and two teenagers lay slain on the floor, two others were wounded, and the girl was firmly in the grasp of the witch hunters. Gretel had backed away during the fight and was trembling, with her back firmly against the wall near the door of the room. Suddenly, she heard an incredibly loud and menacing growl next to her, but with the torch laying on the floor in the middle of the room she couldn't see what was in the doorway. And, then, the "thing" leapt into the room and began to tear the three witch hunters to shreds. The prostitute with the vivid imagination no longer needed it. She watched in silence as blood flew through the air and as screams of fright and agony and monstrous roars filled the room. In that massacre, no one saw her flee the premises just seconds after the nightmare had begun.

oOo

The witcher and the sorcerer sat on one side of a large table. The soft, morning sunlight shone through large windows, illuminating the castle's banquet hall. On the other side of the table was Rien, surrounded by eight kids, either sitting next to him or standing behind him. Geralt guessed that the kids were in the age range from perhaps four to sixteen. The two youngest ones sat in the laps of older ones, their small arms clinging tightly around necks, seeking a sense of comfort and safety. They all seemed to be a bit frightened and overwhelmed by the excitement of the morning and by the appearance of the two strange men sitting across from them. But there was one boy of around age seven or eight who didn't look nervous at all. He sat in a chair quietly, just staring at Geralt. Every time the witcher looked over at the boy, he would be gazing right back at the witcher, his eyes taking in everything about the monster-slayer – the swords on his back, the medallion on his chest, his armor, his eyes, and his scars. Geralt noticed that the boy had an old-looking scar that ran across the bridge of his nose and diagonally across his left cheek.

Geralt and Benny had just finished listening to the story of how Rien had saved the orphans and particularly Tressa - the pretty, blond teenager - from the witch hunters that night four weeks ago.

"Kill me if you want, Witcher," said Rien, with still a trace of anger in his voice. "But then you can take over the responsibility of looking after them – protecting them, feeding them."

Ban Ard was no different than any other town, especially in a world ravaged by wars and monsters, and it, thus, had its fair share of orphans. Six months ago, about a dozen of them had decided to sneak into the abandoned magical academy, looking for both food and a place to live that was safer than the dangerous back alleys of the city. Upon finding the empty living quarters and dining hall still stocked with food, they thought that they'd found nirvana. For the next several months, all was well, but when Thacker re-opened the academy grounds, the orphans hastily and quietly relocated into the castle. Madame Spraven's girls – with the help of many of Thacker's men - came in and took over the living quarters and dining hall, and with access to the food no longer available, the group of orphans began to grow hungry. After discussing their plight one night, they were incredibly surprised to find the next morning a freshly killed deer in the middle of the main foyer. They were suspicious at first, but the hunger overcame their suspicions, and they quickly took it to the castle's kitchen to dress and cook it. For the next week, they searched the castle looking for their benefactor but with no luck. He had finally showed himself when the witch hunters attacked, and for the last month, he had been supplying food for the group as needed.

Geralt looked at the young man. He appeared to be in his early to mid-twenties, but given that he wasn't one hundred percent human, then there was no telling his actual age. He had some fresh bruises and wounds on his forearms and face, and Tressa, the pretty blond, sat very close to him.

"I don't plan on killing you, but I've got a problem…because I need your head," responded the witcher. Upon seeing the look of fear – or, in Rien's case, anger - on several faces, he then proceeded to explain what he meant.

After hearing Geralt's story, Rien looked the witcher in the eye and nodded.

"I'm sorry for your predicament, but I don't see how you can solve it without my death."

"No! That's not going to happen, Rien. He said so," interjected Tressa while squeezing his forearm. She then turned to the White Wolf. "You said so, right?"

The witcher could easily see the desperation on her face and in her voice.

He nodded. "Yeah. I only kill monsters that deserve it. And as far as I can tell, you don't fall into that category," Geralt replied. "At least, not yet," he thought to himself.

"So, then what are we going to do?" asked Lukas, the oldest of the orphans.

"You? Nothing. We-" and the witcher nodded towards Benny,"-already had a plan before we got here, but now…I may have another idea. But it'll involve you," responded the witcher, looking at Rien. And then he told them his plan.

Rien nodded his head. "It could work. There's only one problem. Afterwards, people may start coming back in here, using the Academy again, and for the foreseeable future, we can't have that."

"And why's that?" asked Benny.

Rien's eyes shifted to the mage. "Because there's another one of me downstairs. And he's not safe at all right now."

"Great. Thought so," the sorcerer said and then sighed. "Just so we're clear – what exactly are you?" asked Benny.

Rien slowly shook his head. "That's a good question. Truth is…I don't rightly know."

"What do you know?" asked the witcher.

"I remember waking up, several years ago, in the dungeons down below one day. Based on my size, I was probably fourteen or fifteen, but I had no memory of my past or how I got here. Over the years, bits and pieces of my childhood have come back, but they're blurry. I can't recall a lot of details. I can remember that I had loving parents and siblings, and I can even remember vaguely what they look like, but I don't remember their names or where we lived." The young man shook his head. "I just don't remember how I came to be like this. I don't know if it was a curse, or if I was bitten, or if I was the subject of some magical experiment. I just don't know."

"Geralt, you're the expert. What do you think?"

"Not sure yet. Let's go see the other one…the one downstairs."

Five minutes later, Geralt, Benny, and Rien were back down in the dungeons looking at a teenage boy, Nikolai, lying on a mattress in the middle of a foul-smelling room. There was blood - along with some feces - all over the floor and a shredded and ripped-up carcass of some type in the corner of the room. The adolescent was naked, with bruises and scrapes over much of his body.

"What the hell is going on? What's wrong with him?" asked Benny.

"During that night battle a month ago, he and I both got cut by those men's swords. Somehow, my blood got into his veins, and I guess…my curse…my gift – whatever it is – is carried in my blood because just the smallest amount of it was, obviously, enough to change him. At night, he unconsciously converts into his lion form, and when he's in it, he's mostly uncontrollable. I was told that I was like that at first, too."

"Who told you?" the witcher asked.

"Zollicoph. The mage that…either took care of me or was my captor – depending on how you look at it."

Upon hearing the name, Benny grunted.

"What do you know, Benny?"

The sorcerer shook his head.

"Z. and I didn't hang around in the same circles. He was much more powerful than I was…and studied and experimented in some pretty dark magic."

The White Wolf nodded and then turned back to Rien. "You said that you used to be uncontrollable? What changed?"

Again, Rien shook his head. "I honestly don't know. I guess that…in time, I just started to learn how to control the animal side of my mind – even when I was in a converted state, which only happens at night, by the way. At first, every time the sun went down, I'd transform, no matter what. And when the sun came up and I changed back, I couldn't remember anything that had happened that night. Eventually, though, I got to the point where I could control if I transformed or not, even after sunset. And, now, when I am in my converted state, I can still think rationally, though I'll admit that my animal instincts and aggressiveness are much more prevalent. I've also gotten to the point where, now, when I do change back into my human form, I can still remember what happened the night before. The only time that I can't control the transformation is during a full moon. I change then no matter how much I fight against it."

"So, what are you doing with him?" asked Geralt.

"I'm trying to train him, help him. At first, Zollicoph did a lot of experiments with me to try to help me learn to control it. Some were unpleasant, but the meditation wasn't so bad. I honestly don't know if any of that worked or if I just finally adjusted and learned on my own over time. This is just a guess, but maybe, when the lion-blood first enters the body, it's like we've been reborn…since we're, technically, a new creature." Rien then just shrugged. "Perhaps our minds revert back to an infant state, and it just takes time for the human part of the brain to fully assimilate the lion side of us and to develop to the point where it can think critically again. Maybe that's why I have trouble remembering anything clearly from before – kind of like how no one can remember events from when they were babies. Whatever the explanation, right now, Nikolai's still in his 'infant' state. Like I said, I don't know much about this, but I've spent every night with him for the last month in our lion-forms trying to communicate with him."

"Is it working?"

"Yeah…I think so. At times, he's still out of control and we end up…rough-housing. That's why we're covered in bruises and scratches, but, yeah, he's already getting better. There are times when he's actually calm, and when I make eye-contact with him, it's like I can almost see the human part of his mind trying to communicate with me."

"What's with the mess?" asked Benny, nodding his head at the interior of the room.

"During the day, he's comatose. I was told that I was like that, too. This is another guess, but perhaps, early on, even when the body is human, the lion part is still in control of the brain, which just causes everything to malfunction and shut down. Our maybe his mind and body are so stressed from the transformations that it simply has to go into a state of complete rest during the day. I don't know. Anyway, because he's out during the day, the only time we can feed him is at night. So, I'll bring him a deer or elk carcass every few nights. We usually clean up in here first thing in the mornings – but you two came along last night."

The witcher didn't look abashed at all by the accusation and simply asked, "So, what's your best guess? When do you think he'll be able to control it – like you can?"

Rien shrugged. "I'm hoping within a year…but, it'll probably be closer to two."

"Damn it," the witcher said after a sigh.

"Exactly. That's why the town folk coming in here would not be good for anyone. I need someplace safe and out of the way to work with him for, at least, the next twelve months."

"Geralt, do you think this is a curse?"

"Maybe. It sounds like he's a werelion."

"You mean, like a werewolf?"

The witcher nodded. "Yeah. Lycanthropes are the most common form of shape-shifters, but there are other types of were-animals. I've read about a few, but to be honest, I thought they were all extinct."

"If it's a curse, can you lift it?"

"Rien's curse, possibly. But not the boy's."

"What's the difference?"

"I've only ever lifted one werewolf curse, and I needed his consent and cooperation during his converted form to do it. I'm not going to get that with the boy." He then turned to Rien. "And I'm guessing, at this point, since you're helping him, you don't won't me to even try and lift your curse. Which, if I'm honest, I'm still not a hundred percent sure it even is that. Your condition could be due to magic."

Rien shook his head. "No. At least for now, I need to stay this way to help Nikolai."

"Then, what are we going to do?" asked Benny.

They both looked at Geralt, who didn't say anything for the longest time. He was staring at the dungeon floor, smoothing down the stubble on his face absent-mindedly, as if lost in deep thought. Finally, he nodded, exhaled, and looked up at the Rien.

"I know of a place that's safe and remote. No one should find you there. But it's a bit of a trek."

oOo

Near midnight, there was a knock on the closed door.

"Enter," responded Thacker, sitting comfortably behind the desk in his office in the town hall.

One of his men entered but stopped short upon seeing a young woman down on her knees in front of the alderman. Thacker then gave the girl a light slap upside the head.

"I didn't tell you to stop," he stated, glaring down at the woman, who then proceeded to go back to the business at hand.

He then turned his attention to the messenger. "Yes, Liam, what is it?"

"The, uh, witcher is here."

"Excellent. With the monster's head?"

"Umm…I don't know. He's got somebody with him, but I didn't see any monster – head or otherwise."

Thacker let out a frustrated sigh. "Very well. Riley, that's enough. We'll finish up later. Take the back stairs."

Less than five minutes later, the alderman walked through the back door of the town hall's law enforcement office, a large room with several desks and tables and three jail cells off to one side of the room, two of which held prisoners. For the last twenty-four hours, the female elf had been on her knees, apparently in prayer, while the hung-over man had mostly slept on a cot, his arm over his eyes. But, now, Thacker noticed that both of them – along with all of his men - were standing up staring at the office's front doorway. His eyes moved in that direction to see the witcher, both swords on his back and his wolf-head medallion twinkling in the light from the lanterns hanging along the walls of the large room. Standing in front of the witcher was a young man with both arms behind his back. He wore nothing but tattered pants, and his head was slightly bowed, his long hair partially obscuring his face.

"Where's Evie?" asked the Butcher of Blaviken, staring down the alderman.

Thacker smiled. "Oh, someplace safe…and secret…as an insurance policy. You didn't think I'd actually trust you, did you? And I see that I was right not to. We had a deal, Witcher. I asked you to bring me the head of the monster – not some vagrant."

"I've brought you his head…it's just still attached."

"This is the monster?" Thacker asked incredulously.

The White Wolf didn't bother to answer. He was peering closely at every man in the room. Then, the alderman saw him slightly nod to himself.

"Witcher, I asked you a question. I expect an answer," demanded Thacker with authority.

The witcher still didn't respond. The silence was finally broken by Rien, who said just a single word.

"Geralt?"

"All of them but Thacker," answered the monster-slayer. "Benny."

Suddenly, the mage appeared out of thin air on the other side of the witcher. With a quick movement of his arms, all of the lanterns in the room were extinguished, and the room fell into almost complete darkness. Immediately, Thacker heard an enormous growl coming from the front door, but before he could even move, he felt a vicious punch to the gut, which doubled him over and caused him to fall to the floor. As he lay there, the wind completely knocked out of him, the shouts of his dying men and the terrifying roars of the monster penetrated his brain through the fog of pain.

In the utter blackness, Thacker's men stood little chance against the werelion, who could see clearly in the dark. They swung their swords blindly, but Rien's speed and agility made it seem as if they were under water. He evaded their blades and then would powerfully swipe his deadly claws across faces, throats, guts, and groins. He was onto his next victim before the previous one's heart had completely stopped beating. Geralt watched all of this while standing over the alderman, his boot pressing down on Thacker's neck, keeping him pinned to the floor. One of Thacker's men turned and began running towards the back door of the office, near where the witcher stood. Before he could get there, Geralt cast an explosive Aard Sign in his direction, knocking him completely off his feet and over a nearby desk. Rien was on the screaming man an instant later.

And then, suddenly, it was over. Thacker noticed that the yelling had stopped, but the screams seemed to still be echoing off the stone walls of the room. Then, his ears picked up a low growl coming his way. He looked up to see a large shadow above him, and then it dropped down to the ground closer to him. It was so near that he could feel the heat radiating from its body. Its face was right next to his, its menacing, low growl filling his ears, and its hot, animal breath blowing on his face.

"Here's your monster, Alderman," said the witcher, as he felt the man squirming under his boot. "Benny, the lanterns."

As the lanterns were magically relit, the monster came into view, and the alderman's eyes widened in shock. He desperately tried to scramble away, but Geralt had him pinned down.

"Now, where is she, Thacker?" he asked, looking down at the man, but the alderman was too focused on trying to get away from the beast that was just inches in front of him.

"Rien, hold him."

The werelion reached out its powerful paws and held the alderman still.

The witcher then bent down next to Thacker's face and slapped it hard to get his attention. When he saw the alderman's eyes turn his way, he glared at him and then slapped him again, bringing tears to the man's eyes. The second slap was just because he felt like it.

"Where…is…Evie?" he asked again.

oOo

Evie heard several knocks on the metal door twenty feet away, the sounds reverberating through the small dungeon. She looked through the bars of her jail cell and saw her lone guardsmen stand and walk towards the door. He slid a small, thin piece of metal that was eye-level to the right to see who was on the other side. She assumed it was somebody he knew since he then slid the larger rod of metal to the right to unbar the door to allow them entry. As soon as the door was open, she heard a loud, explosive pop – which she clearly recognized was the result of an Aard Sign being cast - and the man flew backwards fifteen feet, landing hard on his back. Hope began to surge within, but it quickly turned to fear as she saw a large monster pounce into the room with a loud roar and then viciously attack the downed guardsman. He was dead just seconds later. She had unconsciously backed up to the wall of her cell, trying to get as far away from this monster as possible. She was so focused on the beast that she didn't even notice that anyone else had entered the room.

The witcher grabbed Thacker by the collar of his shirt and threw him into the small dungeon, which was the original holding cell of the town hall. He then shut and locked the door behind them.

"Rien," stated Geralt.

The werelion, still crouching over the guardsman, rose to its feet, blood dripping from its paws. It walked slowly over to the alderman and stood behind him, purposefully breathing heavy on top of the man's head and with his large paw grasping his neck. Geralt found keys on a desk near the door, and he quickly moved over to Evie's cell, looking at her closely the entire time that he was unlocking the door to her prison. Upon noticing him, she moved up close to the door. She reached out and touched his left hand that was tightly gripping one of the iron bars.

Right before the lock finally clicked, Evie said, "I knew you'd save me."

"Damn right," he responded and then threw the door open. They came together, holding each other tightly. They stayed that way, in each other's arms, for several moments.

Finally, Evie said, "Geralt, baby, you're squeezing me too tight."

The witcher relaxed his hold. "Sorry."

He then took a step back so that he could look into his love's face.

"Did they touch you? Did they…rape you?" he asked, peering hard into her eyes.

Evie looked down for just a second and then back up into his face. "They didn't rape me, but he…" she answered. She didn't finish. She didn't need to.

Suddenly, the Butcher of Blaviken turned from her and strode quickly toward the alderman, who instinctively covered his face with his hands. The witcher punched him in the gut as hard as he could, trying to drive his fist right through his back. Thacker fell to the ground in a coughing fit, so the Wolf kicked him in the ribs, knocking him over onto his back. He grabbed the man by his shirt and stood him upright again before driving his fist into his gut a second time, causing him to fall to the floor again. Before the witcher could do anymore damage, he felt a hand on his arm at the same time as he heard Evie's soft voice.

"Geralt, please stop," she said calmly. "Please, Geralt…don't stoop to his level."

The White Wolf had ahold of the alderman's shirt with both hands, but somehow her words found their way through his rage. He released his grip, and the alderman fell to the floor. The witcher then stood up and turned to face Evie. She looked into his eyes and nodded.

"Kill him if you must – to keep him from harming anyone else, but don't brutalize him, okay? That's not you. That's the darkness."

After a moment, the witcher nodded and then turned back toward the alderman.

"I'd like nothing more than to beat your face in, pretty boy, but I've got other plans for you." He then reached down and grabbed Thacker by the ears. "So, get up."

"Uh, Geralt..." interrupted Benny.

"Yeah?"

"What about her?" asked the mage, pointing to a woman cowering in the corner of another one of the dungeon's cells.

"Damn it."

oOo

I can no longer live a lie. I am the monster of Ban Ard. I've been trying to fight it, but it has gotten the best of me. I killed the three men in the castle last month and the others that came to investigate days later. And tonight, I lost control and killed all of these men around me. I can't take the guilt any longer.

Please watch after Holly.

Willet Thacker

"Who's Holly," asked Rien. "His wife?"

"No," answered Benny. "His purebred, race horse. The only thing in this world – besides himself - that he actually seemed to ever care for."

The alderman – under the influence of Geralt's Axii Sign – had just finished writing the suicide note. He was now standing, stripped naked, on a chair in the middle of the law enforcement office. Around his neck was a noose that ran over a beam in the ceiling and was tied off below. He was also covered in blood. Before transforming back into his human state, Rien had wiped the blood from his paws over Thacker's hands, feet, chin and chest.

"Geralt, do you actually think anyone is going to believe this note?" asked Benny. "That Thacker was the monster?"

"Ultimately…I don't care. I just want to throw people off our trail until we're out of the area. Hopefully, we'll already be in Redania before some bright spark starts to see that the clues don't really add up."

With that, the witcher kicked the chair out from under the alderman's feet.

The three watched Thacker gasp and fight for air, and then, as the life finally drained from him, Rien asked, "Didn't want to give him any last words?"

The White Wolf turned to look at the younger man and shook his head. "Actually think he had something worth hearing?"

"Hell no," answered Benny before Rien could reply. "Just a bunch of lies. Look, the son of a bitch never even had the crotch rot. Can't believe I fell for it," said the mage, shaking his head.

The witcher, with brows furrowed, peered at the mage.

"How can you tell? Wouldn't your potions have healed him?"

"You actually think I helped him…after that thieving bastard stole my home? I just kept selling him potions for hemorrhoids."