The first time Julian met a Witcher he was five years old and hiding in one of his favorite alcoves outside Father's study. He'd seen the strange man led in from the back servant's entrance and had been enthralled at first sight. He'd always thought the Lettenhove village blacksmith was the biggest and scariest man he'd ever seen. Of course, Julian knew the blacksmith was also the nicest person too, as unlike many people in the Lettenhove household and town, he never got angry or annoyed with Julian when he asked important questions like: how did the forge work, how heavy was his hammer, and why didn't it hurt the horses when the blacksmith put on new shoes?
Julian loved questions and loved answers even more. His curiosity and ability to soak up new knowledge about anything and everything that caught his attention was both a source of pride and annoyance for the Lettenhove family, although as Julian got older, he had noticed that Father was more apt to sternly order, "Enough Julian!" in a tone that Julian knew meant he'd asked to many questions.
And Julian was fair bursting with questions about the man that had been led into the house and shown to Father's study. Had he ever been a blacksmith? Why did he carry two swords? Why did he wear leather armor instead of the chain and plate that some of Father's men did? The most important questions though were: who was he and what was he going to do with Father?
Since Julian knew his father would be very annoyed if he interrupted the meeting – Julian had tried that before and he had earned a sound beating and had been confined to his rooms with naught but the servants to bring him food for three days. It was a lesson well learned and while Father did answer a lot of Julian's questions, they were inevitability about the duties and responsibilities of being the Heir to the Lettenhove lands, which according to Father was very important.
So, seeing a leather armor-clad man with not one, but two swords being led to his father's study, Julian decided that even though he wasn't invited to the meeting, it was his responsibility as Heir to know what it was about.
Creeping down the stairs had been the easy part of his plan. Sliding into the alcove next to Father's study was harder as Julian had to run the risk of Father or the stranger opening the door before he could get down the small hallway and into the hiding spot.
Luck, however, was on his side as he maneuvered into the shadows behind the bust of Grandfather Cyril Pankratz, a somewhat unfortunate commanding naval officer under the King, who the family story went, had met a beautiful woman on the coast, married her, and had a son. The son was Father, of course, but then Grandfather had returned to the coast and had fallen prey to a Siren and been pulled to the bottom of the sea when Father was only a small babe. Julian used to ask about who if Grandmother was, but after being sent to his room a few times, Julian had stopped asking those questions.
Leaning now against the inside wall of the little alcove, with his ear pressed firmly against the wall, Julian was able to clearly hear everything being said.
"—something in the woods on the east border of the Lettenhove lands is causing a great deal of havoc. Several tenants have reported livestock missing as well as several hunters that went out thinking it was wolves or possibility a bear. The villagers are becoming alarmed as rumors of a monster in the woods is starting to spread. As the Viscount, it is my responsibility to ensure that this creature is dealt with."
Julian had heard the responsibility speech in various ways in his young life. It was one of Father's favorites.
The stranger's deep voice seemed to rumble through the wall. Julian decided he liked it. It reminded him of the blacksmith's voice. Maybe the deep bass tones were part of being big and scary looking. "Pay the Contract and I will remove your monster. Multiple monsters will increase the price. What can you tell me about what I might be dealing with? Has anyone seen the creature? Has it left tracks? What kind of terrain? Any evidence left behind?
Julian stifled a gasp, practically vibrating in place. The man was some kind of monster hunter. That was why he was wearing armor and carrying two swords. Although Julian was unsure why he needed two. Father's guards only needed one sword and sometimes an extra dagger. But Julian was glad. He'd heard the villagers talking when he went with his governess Letta on market day. They were all afraid of the monster lurking at the eastern edge of the woods. It was good that Father was taking care of the people by hiring this monster hunter. It made sense to five-year-old Julian now why the man was even bigger and scarier looking than the blacksmith. Monster hunters had to be scarier than the monsters after all.
On the other side of the wall, Father spoke, "We have no witnesses. None of the hunters returned. The livestock is going completely missing but it is easy enough to identify where they are being killed as the fields are bloody and the ground torn up by what looks to be claws. Most of the kills have occurred near the eastern edge of the forest.
"Sounds like a gryphon. Three hundred. Four if it is a mated pair."
"Really, Witcher? That seems a bit extravagant."
In his hiding place, Julian breathed out the word – "Witcher" – he had a name for the monster hunter now, but he also winced. Julian knew this about Father as well. Father hated to spend money. Julian didn't understand it, but it was an often discussed theme when Father talked about Heir responsibilities – never pay hired help more than required lest the commoners get greedy.
He didn't understand how he was to know what should be paid and how he was to know when someone was greedy. Surely, a monster hunter – a Witcher – would tell a fair price. He was risking his life to hunt the monster after all. A monster that had already killed several regular hunters.
"Three hundred. Four, if a mated pair," the Witcher said again, voice gravely and even.
"Fine," Father snapped annoyance evident. Julian winced. He was well acquainted with that tone in Father's voice. The Witcher didn't seem scared though. Nothing in the deep rumble of his voice changed.
"Depending on where it's gone to ground, it may take two or three days. I will return with proof of the kill and my payment."
He heard the squeak of Father's chair as Father stood. The meeting would be over as Father never stood unless it was to dismiss anyone in his office. Julian scrunched down into the shadows and risked peering around the column of Grandfather's bust at the door to Father's study hoping to see the Witcher pass by. His heart pounding, he waited and held his breath as the door opened. Up close, the Witcher was even bigger and scarier looking, long grey hair partially tied back, gleaming yellow eyes and a wide barrel chest that Julian was fairly sure of wider than the whole span of his arms. Hiding in the shadows, Julian sucked in a breath as those yellow gold eyes turned to stared at him. Julian's own widened in surprise as he realized the Witcher's pupils were slitted just like the barn cats.
The Witcher was old, he realized, even older than Father with wrinkles and scars crossing a weather-beaten face that Julian thought rather stern before the man winked at him and carried on down the hall as if he'd seen nothing.
The wait until the Witcher's return was some of the longest days of Julian's young life. He'd taken to alternating between haunting the upper story windows to look out across the Pankratz estate grounds and skulking around the back servant's entrance in the hopes that he'd spot the Witcher's return. He shouldn't have been afraid though as the Witcher's return caused such a great uproar in the household that most of the house had turned out and was standing around the back entrance as the Witcher returned with two great bloody decapitated heads tied to his horse's saddle.
Julian stared around the jam of the door in horrified fascination while the staff bustled around more horrified than anything else. He had so many questions and no idea on how, or even if, he was allowed to ask them.
The Witcher was almost as bloody as his two gruesome trophies but looked as if he'd made an attempt at a quick clean up in a stream somewhere, although Julian could see still rusty looking blood spots trapped in his armor, in his hair and along the creases and callouses that lined his big hands.
What really concerned Julian though was the wound on the Witcher's thigh that looked like a bite, a bite that matched the teeth of one of the severed heads. The Witcher seemed unconcerned and didn't even limp and Julian's admiration was steadily growing. Julian had fallen a few weeks ago and skinned up one of his knees and he'd limped for days as the scabs pulled as he walked.
"Witcher! What is the meaning of this?" Julian ducked around the door at the sound of Father's raised voice. In his experience it never boded well for anyone. To his amazement, the Witcher stood steadfast against Father's annoyance, impressing Julian even more.
"Proof of a mated pair of gryphons," he rumbled, in that voice Julian felt in his chest. "Contract is for four hundred."
He watched as Father narrowed his eyes. "Three twenty five. That small one looks like a juvenile."
The Witcher's lips peeled back from teeth in a silent snarl that had several of the gathered household servants stepping back. "Females are smaller, but fiercer in the fight. More agile. Harder to kill."
The bite the Witcher had Julian realized was from the female.
Father sniffed disdainfully. "Still small. I'm sure it was hardly worth your time. But very well. We shall settle on three hundred and fifty." Father flicked his fingers, signaling two of the household guards over.
From the Witcher's narrowed eyes and deep throated rumble, he noticed the motion as well for the guards, but he made no move. "Three hundred and fifty," he finally agreed.
Julian doesn't understand at all. The Witcher defeated not one but TWO monsters. Why would he back down from Father and two guards? Hissing softly in confused outrage, Julian met the Witcher's eyes around the door jam, seeing a calm resignation that broke something loose in Julian.
Father was wrong and Julian cringed just thinking it, feeling that any minute a hard hand would land on the scruff of his neck for his impertinence. But Julian forced himself to think it again. It was wrong. It was about responsibility and trust and his word as the Viscount. He'd always said that as the Heir of the Lettenhove title, Julian had to be better, do better than commoners. But this was cheating. It was wrong.
He couldn't confront Father though. He would be beaten and banished to his room for sure. Wrapped in his own thoughts, Julian almost missed Father's next words.
"I will bring you your coin, Witcher. Get rid of these disgusting heads and do not step one foot into my house."
Julian's eyes widen.
Coin.
Father was not giving the Witcher the appropriate coin. But nothing said that Julian couldn't give him what was owed. Spinning away from the door, Julian raced through the kitchen and up the servant's staircase as the fastest route up to his room. It had the added benefit of avoiding Father's journey to his study and the cash box of coins that he knew was kept there.
Running into his room, Julian slid under his bed, small hand grasping for the boards under his mattress to where he'd stashed his small horde of coins. He didn't have many as he often wasn't gifted coins for his own use, but he'd had some that he'd been saving. Humming softly with excitement, his fingers finally closed around the leather pouch. Wiggling backwards from beneath the bed, he clutched the bag to his chest. Did he have enough time to count out the fifty owed to the Witcher? Julian was fairly sure there was fifty, maybe even sixty, coin in the small bag but . . . he glanced out the window. Not enough time, he decided. He'd give the Witcher all of it and if it was a little more than required, well the man had been bit after all. The extra could go for a healer.
But he couldn't give the coins where Father could see. That would be no good. Father said he would pay at the servant's entrance, so Julian had to pay somewhere else. Plan decided, Julian raced back down the hall and down the main stairs to the front door. The Witcher would leave through the main gate of the Lettenhove estate. Julian could catch him there before he left.
Holding his breath as he opened the front door, he made sure it didn't slam behind him as Father said that slammed doors spoke of poor breeding.
Free of the house, Julian took off running again. Main gate in sight, he skidded off the main path and hid behind one of the tall stone columns that held the massive front gates. Sweat plastered his hair to his head and his lungs heaved as Julian waited, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other.
Leading his horse, the Witcher finally came into view just as Julian finally caught his breath. The two gryphon heads were no longer hanging from the horse's saddle but nothing else seemed to have changed about the man.
As the man drew close, Julian stepped out from behind the column. The Witcher stopped and he and Julian stared at each other for a long moment. Heart pounding, Julian gave his best bow to the Witcher. "I'm Julian Alfred Pankratz, Heir of the Viscount de Lettenhove." Straightening, he waited but after a long moment realized that the Witcher was not going to introduce himself.
With a small sigh of disappointment at not getting the other's name, he held out the small coin purse. "I'm very sorry for Father, Master Witcher. I have the rest of the coin owed to you."
One grey brow arched upwards in what Julian thought was surprise, but the Witcher made no move to take it, but instead began to look around in suspicion, his head cocked to the side as if listening for something while his hand flexed and curled at his side.
It took a moment to realize that the Witcher thought this was some trick and that maybe guards were hiding nearby. "It's just me, Master Witcher. I promise." Stepping forward, he held the purse out again. "Father didn't give you what was promised. Father says it's important that we always protect the Lettenhove land. That it is our duty. You killed the monsters." Julian eyed the bite mark on the Witcher's thigh. "You got hurt and bled for Lettenhove. It was wrong of Father not to give you what you earned."
Taking another small step forward, Julian was almost close enough to touch, but knew that would be unwise. He also realized just how big of a man the Witcher really was. Julian was in absolutely and delighted awe. Another long moment passed as Julian kept his hand outstretch, bag sitting in his open palm. The whole thing reminded him of when Father's chief Huntsman had first introduced Julian to the estate's fierce stag hunting dogs. He'd had to hold very still and let the dogs come to him, hackles half raised and rumbles in their chests. It had been very hard to hold still but worth it in the end when the dogs had finally accepted him and let him run his hands over their rough coats. Just like the great hounds, the Witcher finally accepted him and leaned down to take the bag from Julian's hand.
He couldn't help it and beamed up at the man, grin so wide his cheeks hurt. "Thank you, Master Witcher," he said with another perfectly formed small bow, just as he'd been drilled by Mother and Father.
With a sigh, the Witcher inclined his head at Julian. "Vesemir."
Not able to contain his excitement, Julian bounced on his toes, but unlike Father, the Witcher didn't reprimand him for his breach of dignity. "Thank you, Master Vesemir," he said, before throwing a short, sloppy bow and turning to race off back towards the house. He hadn't been gone long, but it wouldn't do to be caught out of the house without permission.