Book 2: The Wolf Hunts
Chapter 10
Kestral Mountains
"I'll pay you back," said Geralt – with sword in hand - looking over at Vatslav.
The old man spit into the river and looked back at the witcher with a smile.
"Cut it already. Let's get this started."
Geralt gave a quick nod of his head and then looked at the others.
"Find cover. They might start shooting as soon as I cut the rope."
After seeing his five traveling companions hunker down behind the thick ferry gate or under the wagon, he cast a Quen Sign and then sliced through the heavy rope with a single swing of his sword. Immediately, the two pieces fell slack and the strong current pushed the ferry south toward the narrowing river canyon. Sure enough, upon seeing the ferry floating away, the Redanian soldiers raised their crossbows. Geralt moved quickly to stand in front of the two horses that were hitched to the wagon and prepared to cast a Quen dome to protect them, but the barrage of bolts and arrows never came. He peered closely at the soldiers standing on the banks, and suddenly they all lowered their weapons. He hadn't heard the order over the noise of the river, but he'd seen one soldier's mouth move and assumed that he'd been the one to give the command. The White Wolf continued staring at the officer in charge until the current had taken the ferry out of the crossbows' range. At which point, the Redanians all turned around and ran upward into the wooded mountains.
"Why didn't they shoot?" asked Evie.
The witcher shook his head. "Don't know. Maybe they didn't want to accidentally hit you."
"Then, where are they going?"
"Don't know that either, but if I had to guess…probably going to try and catch us somewhere down river."
He then turned to Vatslav.
"Are there dangerous rapids ahead?"
The old man shrugged. "Wouldn't call 'em dangerous…though, I suppose the ferry might break up if we crash into the rocks hard enough. I'd recommend that you unharness the horses from the wagon just in case."
Geralt nodded and then looked at Lydial and Evie. "You two handle that."
He then went to his saddle bags and grabbed as much rope as he could find. He turned to Benny and Barcain and tossed it to them.
"Tie each wagon wheel off to the ferry's railing. I want to stabilize it as much as possible before we go through any rapids. Cut the rope into pieces if you have to."
As everyone went about completing the tasks at hand, Geralt looked up and around him. The cliffs towered overhead at least a hundred feet high on both sides of the river. While not quite vertical, the escarpments were still very steep and rocky. Thus, the witcher didn't think it would be possible for any of the Redanians to ambush them from above. He saw that there was no bank on either side of the river either. Therefore, if the enemy was going to pursue them, then they'd have to do so along the cliff tops.
"We've got company!" shouted Benny, bringing Geralt out of his thoughts.
The witcher looked over at the sorcerer, who was pointing back up river. Sitting or kneeling in a wide, flat-bottomed raft just thirty feet away were a half-dozen Redanians – two of which had oars in hand and were paddling hard while the other four had crossbows drawn. The smaller raft was gaining fast.
"Everybody take cover!" yelled Barcain, who immediately moved to the down-river side of the wagon.
Geralt, without any cover to hide behind, simply cast a Quen Sign and then crouched down to minimize the chance of being hit. Suddenly, several crossbow bolts either whistled through the air as they passed by or produced a heavy "thunking" noise as they imbedded in the wood of the wagon or ferry. The noise produced by the projectiles agitated all the horses, causing them to emit shrill, fearful cries.
Still crouching down, the witcher reached up to his bandolier and grabbed a Grapeshot bomb. He was about to toss it towards the middle of the approaching raft when he realized that a second, floating craft could come in handy. He let go of the shrapnel-producing explosive and grasped hold of a Devil's Puffball instead. As he stood, the enemy shot another volley of bolts, two of which impacted his Quen shield, producing a small explosion of orange sparks and a banging noise, like two pans smacking together. While no longer active, the shield had served its purpose, and the witcher, ignoring the noise from the frightened horses behind him, stood unharmed and tossed the poison-gas bomb at the smaller vessel. It detonated on impact, and almost immediately, the soldiers on board began gasping for air, clutching at their throats. They all quickly dove over the sides and into the river. Geralt watched dispassionately as the soldiers – their nervous systems impaired by the poison – splashed and floundered in the water. Even without the effects of the poisonous gas, given that they were wearing thick armor, it would have been difficult for any of them to stay afloat. However, there was one soldier who seemed to be making a hearty attempt. Whenever his head would break the surface of the water, Geralt could see that his eyes were wide with panic and focused on the ferry. The witcher suddenly had an idea, picked up a long line of rope at his feet, and tossed it at the frantic man. The Redanian swiped at the life-line and just as his hand grasped it tightly, a crossbow bolt suddenly plunged into his eye and he quickly submerged out of sight. The witcher turned to his left to see Barcain holding an empty crossbow.
"What the hell, Barcain? I was going to question him. Couldn't you see I was trying to save him?"
The ex-Nilfgaardian soldier looked back at Geralt and shrugged.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't know that's what you were trying to do," he replied before turning away.
The witcher stared hard at Barcain as he walked back to the other side of the ferry. He shook his head several times and then pulled the loose rope into his hand. He tied off one end to the railing and then dove into the river and swam towards the raft. It was only the witcher's incredible strength that kept him from drowning under the weight of his armor and weapons. Once aboard, he pulled himself and the raft toward the ferry using the rope and then fastened it to the larger vessel, allowing the smaller craft to trail ten feet behind.
"What do you plan to do with my raft?" asked Vatslav as the witcher climbed back aboard the ferry.
"Not sure, yet," answered Geralt. "But I'd rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it."
oOo
After watching the ferry drift down river, the Redanians on the west bank – the Redanian side of the river - turned and ran back towards their mounts. As they moved up into the wooded area, near their horses, the group wasn't even aware of an unseen enemy, and they were suddenly hit with a barrage of crossbow bolts. Almost all of Radovid's soldiers immediately fell dead. One lay on the ground, moaning but still alive.
"What now, Roche?" asked Ves.
"Let's question the survivor. Then, we'll see whether or not we should help the witcher," he answered back.
oOo
During the Redanians' approach of the ferry on the smaller craft, Evie had been crouched down behind the wheel of the wagon, hoping to avoid being impaled by a crossbow bolt. Right after she had watched the witcher dive into the water, she had heard an ominous-sounding crash coming from the other side of the wagon. She peered underneath and saw Roach had fallen to her side. Blood was slowly spreading out onto the ferry's wooden deck from some unseen wound. She immediately moved to the other side of the wagon, but since she was unsure what to do for the large animal, she decided to simply wait for Geralt's return. She watched the witcher climb back aboard the ferry, heard him speak quickly with Vatslav, and then stared at him closely as he looked down at his mare.
Roach, wild-eyed, was whinnying loudly and was struggling – and failing – to stand. A bolt had pierced the canon of her front leg, just under the knee area. Every time she put weight on that leg, she'd collapse back down to the deck of the ferry with a heavy thud. She also had a second bolt protruding from her neck, out of which flowed a slow and steady pulse of blood. Tears began to well in Evie's eyes as she watched the beautiful horse struggling so. When she looked at her husband and saw the pain on his face, the tears fell down her cheeks.
She moved forward, a step closer to the injured animal when she heard Geralt yell, "No! Stay back!" The witcher was looking at his wife. "She may crush you."
Indeed, Roach was still thrashing about on the ferry, her heavy weight rocking the craft every time she lost her balance and crashed back down to the deck. It was then that the witcher cast an Axii Sign at his horse. Immediately, the horse seemed to calm down a bit. As Evie looked on, she noticed that more time passed between each of the mare's efforts to rise. Eventually, her attempts to stand ceased, and she lay mostly still on her side. Evie looked at Geralt and then glanced around. Everyone else was also standing and looking at either the witcher or his mount.
Evie watched her husband – his face now blank – walk up slowly and kneel down next to his mare's head. Immediately, she knelt down on the other side of Roach, across from Geralt. The horse's breathing was shallow but very fast. She watched the witcher gently stroke the mare's neck as he inspected the wound, and then he turned to look down at the injured lower leg.
"Damn it," he said under his breath.
"Geralt, what can I do to help?"
He raised his head and looked into Evie's eyes. She noticed the small frown on his face, and then, he gave a slight shake of his head.
"There's only one thing to be done," he answered gravely.
As she watched the witcher pull the knife from his scabbard, a small cry of "No" escaped from her throat. Geralt was rubbing his hand gently across Roach's neck and whispering to her, trying to calm her. Thanks to the witcher's Axii, the mare seemed to be at peace. Though she knew that she was probably imagining it, Evie could swear that there was even a look of acceptance in the horse's eye as it looked up at its owner.
"You were one of the best, girl. We went through hell together," the witcher said softly. "I'll miss you…friend.".
When Evie saw him raise his knife, she turned her ahead away. A moment later, it was done, and Evie stood up and walked behind her kneeling husband. As he was removing the bridle from Roach's head, she bent down and hugged the witcher from behind, placing her arms around his neck and resting her cheek on top of his head. Upon feeling his wife's embrace, he stopped moving his hands and let go of the leather halter. He sighed deeply and then simply rested his hands on top of his thighs.
"I'm sorry, Geralt."
"Yeah…me, too," he replied as he reached up and gently squeezed her forearm.
After a moment, he went back to the business of removing his saddle and other gear from his horse. He knew that he didn't have time in that moment to dwell on her death. With the potential dangers ahead, there was too much to do. He had to keep moving.
oOo
Evie looked to her witcher for reassurance, for the ferry was moving past the rocky cliffs at a frightening speed as the current of the river – now moving from a higher to lower elevation - picked up its pace. Luckily, there were no large rocks protruding upward from the river bottom so, as of yet, the large, wooden vessel had not impacted any dangerous obstacles. However, every time it careened off either side of the hard escarpment, Evie winced.
"Are the rapids going to get worse?" Geralt asked Vatslav, as the two men hung on tightly to the ferry's railing.
"Don't know. Haven't come down this far in many a year. Did most of my fishing and hunting up river," the old man answered with a yell to be heard over the river's noise.
The group had been floating south for at least a half an hour, with Geralt constantly surveying the cliffs, looking for the Redanians' next ambush.
Suddenly, the ferry crashed into a boulder that was just under the surface of the water. With a loud bang, a vibration passed through the wood. The ferry lurched to a temporary stop, knocking Evie and Benny off their feet but, luckily, not into the river itself. Immediately, the current grabbed ahold of the ferry's edge that was closest to the middle of the stream and spun it around. The side of the large craft slipped off the rock's surface and continued its rudderless journey down river.
"Everybody best sit down!" yelled Vatslav. "The next crash could toss you in!"
Evie, now sitting down and holding onto one of the spokes of a wagon wheel, saw Geralt immediately cast Axii Signs at the remaining horses. It was better than nothing, but she didn't think there was any way that his Signs were going to keep them calm if the rapids got worse. The witcher was also moving from horse to horse tying their reins to the ferry's railings so that, she assumed, there'd be less chance of them falling into the dangerous currents.
"Hang on!" screamed Lydial suddenly.
The ferry immediately dipped, its front edge plunging under the river's surface. Cold, mountain water sprayed over the ferry and drenched everyone. And, then, the ferry began charging down river at even a greater velocity than before. It ricocheted off of boulders along the river's edges while Evie grasped the spokes in a death-grip. She wasn't sure that she'd ever gone this fast before, even on the back of a galloping stallion. She suddenly felt an arm wrap around her waist. Geralt had slid up behind her, his legs on either side of her, with one arm holding onto his wife and the other firmly gripping the wagon wheel.
"What about the horses!?" Evie asked loudly, as the equines whinnied in fear around them.
"We can find other horses! I can't find another you," the witcher yelled back, as a wave of water crashed over the surface of the ferry once again.
Evie, with the sound of the rapids roaring in her ears, looked under the wagon to see that everyone else was also sitting down and hanging onto either to some part of the wagon or the ferry railing with all their strength. She peered down river to see what was coming up next, and the ferry was rapidly approaching another boulder. Just before impact, she closed her eyes, hoping that this one wouldn't be the one to crack the vessel apart. She heard a heavy smack of wood impacting stone, and her body was jerked forward, but she felt Geralt holding her tightly. Then, she opened her eyes to see that they were still careening towards the white rapids ahead. The ferry had not taken a direct hit, only impacting the boulder at an angle before glancing off and continuing its trip without any noticeable reduction in speed. While the cold water had soaked her clothes and hair to her body, the muscles in her arms, shoulders, and back were burning. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hang on, for with each dip in the river or crash against the rocks, her body was jerked about. So much so, that she was having difficulty even focusing her eyes on what was ahead.
Suddenly, Evie felt her body twist, the ferry turning broadside and slamming into the jagged edge of a boulder in the middle of the river. The decades-old ferry could no longer withstand the unrelenting pounding, and it shattered at several points. One of the ferry's railings snapped in two, which meant that the ropes holding the wagon in place were no longer secure. This caused the wagon – along with everyone using it for support – to be thrown forward towards the boulder. Evie cried out as her grip was torn loose from the wagon wheel. Her mind – in a fraction of a second - expected her body to immediately either plunge into the unrelenting rapids or slam against the rock, but neither happened. Instead, she sensed an incredibly painful squeezing sensation around her abdomen – so hard that it felt her ribs were about to crack - as her witcher held her closely to him. Their bodies suddenly jerked to a stop as the wagon crashed into the other railing. The broken ferry was no longer moving down river as it was hung up on the boulder. It had almost shattered into two pieces, but a few sturdy planks were still hanging on, keeping the two sections of the vessel connected. Then, even those planks snapped, giving way under the river's unyielding pressure. One-third of the vessel basically disintegrated into nothing but random boards and logs. The two horses that had been tied to the railings on that front portion of the ferry fell into the churning water, and Evie quickly lost sight of them. The larger part of the ferry - the mostly undamaged section with the wagon - was pushed back into the middle of the rapids and began floating down river again.
Evie was on her back underneath the wagon, holding on to nothing. She was lying on top of her husband, and she felt like she could barely breathe.
"Geralt…can you ease up a bit?" she gasped out.
"Sorry," he replied, and instantly she felt him loosen his hold around her waist. She immediately inhaled deeply and felt pain all along her ribcage. She knew that she was going to be sore for a while.
She carefully slid off of Geralt, pushed her wet hair back from her eyes, and looked around as the ferry floated slowly along. She let out a sigh of relief as she peered down river to see that, presumably, they had made it through the worst. It looked like calm waters ahead. It was then that she heard some moaning coming from nearby so she and Geralt crawled out from beneath the wagon. What she saw made her gasp. Vatslav's body was pinned between the ferry's railing and one of the wagon's wheels. It surprised her to notice that he didn't even have the slightest of grimaces on his face.
"Hang on, Vatslav. We'll get you out of there," stated the witcher calmly.
"I'll grab his head," said Evie as she moved next to them.
"Let's try to stabilize his body, too," remarked Benny from behind.
Quickly, everyone crowded around the old man and began discussing what needed to be done. They soon had a plan and moved with haste into position.
"One, two, three!" yelled Geralt, as he and Barcain, with a mighty jerk, pulled the wagon away from the railing.
Evie, Benny, and Lydial did their best to support his body and then lay him down gently on the deck of the ferry, with Evie trying her hardest to keep his head stationary.
Benny looked down into Vatslav's open eyes. The mage could see that he was both alive and conscious.
"Where do you hurt?" the healer-sorcerer asked.
The old man exhaled, a little spittle coming from his mouth.
"Nowhere. I don't feel nothing," he answered with a frown.
Benny looked up at Geralt, but neither said a word.
Benny turned back to Vatslav. "Can you move your fingers for me?"
Everyone's eyes immediately went to the old man's hands, which remained completely still.
"I'm buggered, ain't I?" Vatslav asked.
No one answered, but when he peered at the witcher, Geralt looked him in the eye and nodded slowly.
oOo
After Geralt had cut the rope on the ferry, the remaining Redanians on the east bank – the Kaedweni side of the river - had run back to their horses. The Redanian officer – the now-dead one with a Temerian crossbow bolt through his chest - had come up with a contingency plan before the encounter. He had instructed his men that if the witcher refused to hand over the historian and cut the ferry's rope, then they'd simply ride south, no matter how long it took, until they found a shallow area where they could block the ferry's passage.
Ten miles downriver, just past a sharp bend, the river canyon opened up. This allowed the river to widen significantly and, consequently, become much shallower. Just as importantly, the rapids dramatically decreased in speed so that the river's current slowed to just a gentle flow as it continued on its eventual destination towards the valley to the west. It was also at this spot that the eastern cliff became much less steep so it was there that the group of Redanian soldiers, based on their officer's previous orders, had maneuvered their horses down a mountain trail towards the river's east bank. One low-ranking soldier had been "voluntold" to ride his horse across the five-foot deep river to the west bank carrying a thick rope. On the far side, he found a small boulder that was imbedded deeply into the ground, wrapped the rope around it several times, and then securely tied off the end. Once done, the men on the east bank found an equally secure tree to which to tie the other end of the rope. The rope was now stretched tightly across the river about a foot above the water's surface. At that point, all that the Redanian soldiers had to do was wait for the slow-moving ferry to arrive.
oOo
The witcher looked up to see the sun high overhead. The river's current was steady, slow moving, and still traveling southward through the mountain canyon. To the witcher's surprise, the smaller craft was still in one piece and floating behind the damaged ferry.
Geralt knew that at some point the Nimnar River would turn westward and head down out of the mountains and through the town of Gelibol in the Nimnar Valley before eventually pouring into the Buina River. While he was familiar with the river and its surrounding terrain down in the valley, he didn't know any details of what still lay ahead of them on the river there in the mountains, but he was very sure that their broken-up ferry couldn't withstand any more rapids. Just one more hard collision would probably shatter it into pieces.
Suddenly, he was interrupted from his thoughts by a shout from high above.
"Hello, down below!" A voice called from the top of the cliffs on the western side – the Redanian side – of the river.
The witcher, along with everyone else on the craft, looked up. Gazing down upon them was Vernon Roche, walking his horse beside him. Evie heard Geralt mumble, "Swell," under his breath.
It wasn't that Geralt actively disliked the former commander of the Temerian Blue Stripes. In fact, the two men had battled side-by-side in the last couple of years on several separate occasions. That said, the witcher was very wary of him, for he knew that, ultimately, Vernon Roche's values and loyalties were quite different than his own. In Geralt's eyes, the man was blindly and somewhat fanatically dedicated to obtaining Temeria's independence. That, in and of itself, wasn't necessarily a bad thing. However, the witcher knew that Roche was willing to do just about anything – allowing atrocities to be committed or even perpetrating them himself - on behalf of his idealistic, greater good.
Just last year, Geralt had seen it himself firsthand. Roche had happily used a few citizens of a small Temerian village as intelligence assets to assist in his guerilla warfare against the invading Nilfgaardians. However, when he discovered that the Black Ones had found out about his informers and were going to kill everyone in the village in retaliation, Roche simply wrote them off as casualties of war, as the cost for Temeria's liberty. The witcher had known, even prior to that event, just how deep Roche's patriotism ran, but it was then that he'd decided that he would never truly be able to trust the Temerian. For if the commando viewed even his own countrymen's lives as expendable on behalf of his theoretical, noble cause, then clearly there wasn't anyone that he wouldn't be willing to sacrifice.
But the witcher had just never been a big-picture kind of guy. It was why he loathed royal courts and the politics found within, and it was why he knew that he'd never make a good military commander. He'd just never be able to treat living souls like pawns in a game, and, therefore, he hadn't understood Roche's stance on being willing to sacrifice those townsfolk. For what was the point of a free Temeria if all the Temerians were dead? It had only been Ves' insistence – and her disobeying of her commander's orders for non-interference – that had forced Roche's hand to come to the villagers' aid.
Geralt knew that he and Roche could have a working relationship for only as long as Roche believed that the witcher was somehow useful for achieving his overall goals. But if the Temerian ever thought that the witcher's death would somehow help his country regain its independence, Geralt had no doubt that Roche wouldn't hesitate a bit to bury a dagger in his back – and then, not lose one wink of sleep over it.
Of course, that made Vernon Roche, in the witcher's mind, ultimately no different than almost everyone else he'd ever met. He knew that he could probably count on one hand the number of people in the world who didn't think that the ends justified the means. Therefore, he wasn't really surprised by the Temerian's actions - for, in Geralt's opinion, rationalization was without a doubt every man's greatest skill. And it was a skill that didn't even have to be learned and developed. All sapient creatures were simply born with it, just like their ability to lie, which was essentially what rationalization was. It was just self-deception. Lying to your conscience whenever you felt guilty for something you had done or were about to do. Knowing you were committing an act that skirted - if not outright crossed - the bounds of morality and ethics, but telling yourself, "There's no other choice," or, "She made me do it," or, "It'll be just this once, and, hey, everybody else does even worse…so what's the big deal?" But regardless of the rationalization, they all served one purpose. To deflect blame and assuage guilt. It's why animals and beasts never rationalized. They didn't need to. They didn't have a conscience so they simply never felt guilty. They just did what was in their nature. But, then again, so do we all, thought the witcher.
"Guessing you didn't just happen to be in the neighborhood!" The witcher's voice echoed upward off the sides of the rocky cliffs.
"You'd guess right! We were tracking a platoon of Redanians out of Tretogor! Took care of the ones on this side of the river. Seems you've caught Radovid's attention…what have you done this time?"
"No idea…but we could use some help! I think that we'd all like to get off this ferry and onto hard ground as soon as possible! What do things look like up ahead?"
"I've already sent some scouts forward! They should be back shortly!"
"Who is that?" asked Evie softly.
"Vernon Roche."
Geralt then went on to explain his and Roche's history. He told her that they'd done each other a few favors in the last two years, including when Roche came to Kaer Morhen last summer to help battle the Wild Hunt.
"Then, I don't understand. I'd think you'd be happy to see him, but you're clearly not."
"Just…be careful what you say around him. And don't mention the Sword, okay?"
"Okay, Geralt."
It was over an hour later before Roche finally appeared atop the cliff's edge again and called back down to them.
"Looks like you got trouble ahead! There's a low spot in the river a mile or so up, and a dozen or so Redanians have cordoned it off! We'd help you if we could, but there's no way for us to get down to the river on this side! We could shoot some bolts at them from up here, but not much else!"
"Swell," Geralt grumbled. "Thanks! We'll figure something out!"
Then, he turned to look at those around him.
"Any ideas?" asked Evie.
"What are our resources?" Barcain asked.
The witcher looked around him. "A wagon, two horses, which are probably useless to us right now, the flat-bottomed boat -"
"I can't believe it survived the rapids," interrupted Lydial.
The witcher nodded his head. "We've got a lot of bombs. I made two case-loads at Kaer Morhen, but by the time we get close enough to throw them…I'm afraid the Redanians will have riddled the entire ferry with bolts and arrows."
"They didn't fire at us before when they were far away…there at the river crossing. Maybe they won't this time either," posited Lydial.
"I'm not willing to take that chance," said Geralt, his eyes shifting to his wife. "And they may not be far away this time."
"Exactly," offered Barcain. "They didn't hesitate to attack us once they got close to us with the boat."
"Well, we'd better think of something quick because we can't stop this ferry," said Benny.
The witcher immediately looked at the mage and nodded. "That's exactly what we need to do."
Geralt found the anchor and tossed it over the side, but the ferry didn't even noticeably slow down, much less stop. He looked to the south and saw a sharp bend down river. He also noticed that the cliff's face on the east side of the river was no longer sheer. It was still too steep for a typical human to climb, but there were some trees and rock outcropping scattered along the side, including down towards the river's edge. He hurried over to the rope that had been tied to the ferry's now broken railing – the other end still tied to the wagon. He discarded the swords and crossbow from his back, and then he scooped up the loose end of the rope and dove into the river, swimming with all of his might against the current and towards the narrow east bank.
Though, calling it a bank wasn't truly accurate. There wasn't a flat place for a person to stand, but there were some large rocks jutting up along the edge. Evie saw the witcher's head break the surface of the water near the rocks. He climbed upward and drug the thick rope to the other side of a boulder. However, he didn't even have time to completely circle the rope around the large rock before it immediately went taught. The force of the ferry being pushed down river almost pulled the witcher from his feet, but he wrapped the rope around his arms and pulled it tight against the rock face, trying to use as much friction as possible to slow the ferry's momentum. He wedged his body into a tight space between two boulders, and pain shot through his shoulders as it felt like his arms were being pulled from their sockets. The witcher gritted his teeth, the veins popping from his neck as he tightened every muscle in his body, but, eventually, slowly, the pain eased as the ferry's momentum down river came to an end. He exhaled deeply before, inch-by-inch, pulling the ferry up-river into his direction. Evie and the rest on the ferry also began pulling on their end of the rope as well, and within a couple of minutes the vessel was snuggled up to one of the boulders.
Evie looked at her husband and felt pride swelling within her at what he'd just done.
"Okay. You've stopped us. Now what?" she asked.
The witcher's eyes shifted to the smaller, flat-bottomed boat and then back to Evie again.
"I may have an idea."
After hearing it, Barcain stated, "It's not bad, but how are you going to know when to shoot? Too soon and you may not kill them…too late and you're fish food."
Geralt rubbed his cheeks with his hand and nodded his head.
Benny piped up. "Easy. I can conceal myself. So, I'll ride next to Geralt and let him know when to shoot."
The witcher shook his head. "I don't like it, Benny."
"Why's that?"
"Because you could die. That's why."
"The same could be said for you."
"Yeah, well, I'm wearing armor, and I'm going to already have a Quen shield around me. I won't have time to cast a Quen dome to protect you."
Nobody said anything for a bit. Finally, the silence was broken.
"I'll do it," came a weak and raspy voice.
Everyone's head turned towards Vatslav lying near them, flat on his back on the ferry's deck.
"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Geralt.
"I'll do it," the old man said again.
"And just how do you propose to do that?" asked Lydial.
"Not too complicated. Set me up-right on the ferry so that I can see. When the time's right, I yell out. Problem solved."
"Absolutely not!" yelled Evie, followed by similar protestations from Lydial and Benny.
"Vatslav, that's suicide," said Lydial.
"The hell you say. It's mercy," he replied with steel in his voice. "Didn't hear any of you complaining when Geralt put his horse down. What? I don't deserve the same respect as an animal?" The old man was now wheezing from the exertion.
"It's totally different," replied Benny. "Your injury may not be fatal…or permanent. I've heard of situations where paralysis was only temporary. Within a week or two, your sensations and movement could come back."
"That so? I've heard a lot of fairy tales in my day, too. Don't mean I believe 'em. And when I don't have a miraculous healing…then which one of you is gonna feed me and wipe my ass for the rest of my life?"
When no one said anything to that, Vatslav's eyes moved to Geralt's.
"Witcher, talk some sense into 'em. You know I'm right. No one ever comes back from this. Let me die my way… with some kind of purpose…and dignity. Not in some bed, layin' in my own shit all day."
The White Wolf's eyes bore into Vatslav's for several long moments, and then he met the determined gaze of both his wife and Lydial before lowering his head in contemplation. As he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, he thought, "Swell."