Eskel led Triss off the boards and once again helped her mount Roach. She turned her head and motioned come as she led the way out of the city to her little cottage. Kovir was already much colder than Temeria and the trees lay mostly bare giving their surroundings an abandoned feel. The sound of their horses' hooves echoed off the stone and wood under a still dark sky. Merchants in the city were beginning to stir, as the warm glow from shops evidenced. But none looked from their windows to see the lonely sorceress and her companion.
Triss' home lay nestled beneath a willow whose long branches dangled like boney fingers scrapping the walls in the frigid wind. Triss removed a key from her vest pocket while Eskel sheltered the horses in the stable. Watching his careful motions, she reflected that they would need to take the horses to the castle stable before the worst of the snows came.
She pushed the door open and stepped into the darkness. It was just as she had left it: clean and ordered, ready to receive herself and her lover. She had envisioned Geralt sweeping her up and carrying her through the door. Yet instead of her lover, she alone walked over the threshold and stood there with the shadows clawing at her soul. Covering her face, Triss let the tears flow; her chest tight as she sobbed. Eskel lit the fireplace and gathered her into his arms. She leaned against his broad chest and, as grateful as she was to Eskel, wished he was someone else.
The winter snow began their first tumultuous night. The wind was gentle and the snow light. Looking out the window it was peaceful and serene. Inside, however, Eskel sat at Triss' bedside with a low burning candle as she thrashed and murmured in her sleep. She finally calmed into deep slumber in the early morning hours and he was able to retreat to his own bed for some much-needed rest.
The following day, Triss sat at a small writing desk and pulled out parchment, ink and quill. She had to notify the King of her return even though she would not begin her duties until he came back to Pont Vanis. She hoped he was still here. Eskel meanwhile pulled the supply bags from the horses and brought them to his room. He took one look at the mud-spattered bag that had belonged to Geralt then dropped it into the wardrobe and closed the door. He wasn't ready to go through the remnants of his brother's life. Returning to the living area, he took the missive from Triss, along with another note for the stablemaster.
Looping a rope over Roach's head, he mounted up and led the mare to the royal stables before going to the massive front doors of the court. Pushing through, he walked up the carpet to the base of the dais where King Tancred Thyssen sat. The king turned his royal gaze to the newcomer as the few petitioners parted for the Witcher.
"It has been some time since one of your brethren have come to Kovir. What brings you? Monsters? Or have you come to scare the populace?" Eskel kept his face impassive at the insult and held forth the letter from Triss. The steward took the missive and handed it to the king. Tancred's face sobered as he read the short letter.
"And are you whom she sought in Temeria?"
"No. He was dead." The King nodded his sympathy.
"Triss was quite disturbed when she left here. How does she fare?"
"Not well. I'll be staying the winter with her."
"Know her well then?"
"Triss has long been a friend to our order."
"Which order is that?"
"The Witcher School of the Wolf. I'm Eskel." Eskel's voice was heavy and the King regarded him thoughtfully.
"I'll be leaving soon for Lan Exeter to return in the spring. I look forward to seeing Triss then." Eskel turned to leave. "And Eskel…Welcome to Kovir."
With his horse safely ensconced at the royal stables, Eskel settled in with Triss for the long cold, Koviri winter. The cold season was usually a merry time for the witchers as they gathered together in their drafty fortress. They would swap their best tales of monsters and women and measure their worst scars; laugh at Lambert as he wrapped himself up in multiple blankets and drink far too much. When the liquor supply dried up, Vesemir would put them to work.
But not this winter. This winter Vesemir and Geralt were gone and he and Lambert were spending it apart for the first time in many years. This winter Eskel sat in a comfortable cottage filled to the brim with sadness. They were fully stocked with everything they would need. He did the cooking, while she silently assisted. The pair said little and they passed their time together quietly; he with a book, she with some sewing. It was a lovely scene of domesticity save for the tears that slid down her cheeks. Tears that did not go unnoticed. He listened every night as she cried herself to sleep. Upon one occasion he went to her, but she demanded to be left alone throwing her bedside candle at him for emphasis. She had been angry that it was Eskel and not Geralt that shared her home. Triss wanted her white haired witcher, not his brother. Eskel gave her space to vent her anger and grief but, despite her demands, he still went to her side at night when her dreams turned into nightmares and her whimpers turned into cries of anguish.
During the days, they were silent in their thoughts and grief. Eskel processed the loss of his friend. A man he had known his entire life, grew up with and even though they went their separate ways in life, remained friends and occasionally confidants. Geralt held a few secrets that Eskel closely guarded for they could be destructive to a witcher's way of life. He had never expected Geralt to harbor the same secrets. Then there were their unexpected children. While the nature of each relationship was vastly different, both girls proved to be very volatile. Two men so alike yet so different and now he was here, alone.
When the falling snow gave them a brief respite, he went out to chop wood. Halfway through the pile the wind and snow started up again but he finished his task and carted in armloads of wood to replenish the stack by the hearth. After stacking it up to the mantle he turned and brushed off his hands. From across the room came a strange sound. Triss stood in the doorway with her hand covering her mouth. The merriment that shone brightly in her eyes was evidence of the laughter that she was stifling. As he looked at her, startled, she dropped her hand and laughed aloud.
"Well, that's different." He said.
"Oh…my goodness…I'm sorry, but you really should see yourself!" Eskel turned to a small mirror that hung on the opposite wall. Over the winters, he let his beard grow and his face was now covered in the thick black hair. His reflection showed his face with a crust of snow and ice, including his eyebrows. He did look ridiculous and if it made her smile, then that was okay. He returned his gaze to her then picked up a rag from the table.
"It's good to see you smile again." He said. Triss straightened and took the towel from his hands and began to gently rub the ice and snow from his face for him.
"It feels good." She replied and continued her work with a smile.
"Thank you," she said when she finished.
"Shouldn't I be the one to thank you?" Eskel asked as he rubbed his chin.
"I mean thank you for all you've done. For me. I…I don't think I would have made it alone."
"There is one more thing..." he guided her to sit then lifting her red tresses from her neck, Eskel removed the pendent he had placed there several months before. As it left her skin, Triss closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She could feel the warmth of the flame as it came alive inside her once again.
"Thank you," she whispered. Eskel took the necklace and returned it to the iron box in the bottom of the wardrobe. When he joined her, Triss was using her magic to prepare an elaborate meal. Eskel leaned against the door frame and took in the picture before him. Triss worked with a smile on her face, her cheeks pink instead of pale. He also noted how lovely she looked; how warm and inviting. How Geralt could pass her up for so long he'd never know. He wondered, too, if she would have come out of her melancholy sooner if he had removed the dimeritium earlier. But no, he thought. Her mirth needed to rise on its own to push away the darkness. Her head rose and she blinked with a sudden realization.
"What day is it?"
"Uh, 8th of Birke. Why?"
"Oh no! We missed Yule!"
"We did." Eskel chuckled.
"Well, that just won't do…" and with a wave of her hands, the whole of the house was hung with green garland and red bows, candles flickering on every surface. Eskel got an idea and slipped back into his room then returned with a plain wooden box the size of his palm.
"Since we are going back in time, here. Merry Yule."
"Oh, you don't have to…"
"Please. I want you to have it. I have had this for years. I could have sold it a hundred times over but I never did." Carefully, Triss lifted the smooth lid, separating it from the bottom. Inside was the most beautiful yet simple piece of jewelry she had ever seen. A large ruby, that had been cut into the shape of flame, was nestled in gold. The chain was also a feat of master craftmanship. Each link was curved in such a way that it made the whole look like a tendril of fire creeping up the wearer's neck. Triss sucked in her breath at the beauty of it and traced a single finger over the glittering surface.
"It's elven work." Eskel said into the silence. Triss continued to stare at the gem. Eskel removed it from the box and slid it around her neck, fastening the clasp. "Don't worry, this one you can take off yourself." Triss looked up and saw her reflection.
"But I don't have anything for you." Eskel shrugged.
"No matter. It suits you." Triss returned her eyes to the small mirror and looked at the face that hovered above hers in the glass. Eskel had always been handsome in her eyes, in spite of the scarring. She had never known him any other way. He had also been such a good friend with a kind and gentle word; never quick to judge. She smiled and felt glad in her heart that he was here.
The following morning when Eskel awoke, there was a gift left on the bedside table. Pushing up, he reached over and grabbed the leather pouch. There was a card attached. Untying the pouch, he pulled out a magnificent silver dagger. The blade was slightly curved with a wicked hook on the end and delicate etchings down the spine of the blade. The grip was large, comfortable, and sturdy. It would certainly come in handy since he had lost his a few years ago. Somewhere there was a wyvern with a silver dagger sticking out if it's jaw. He flipped over the attached card. In a fine, flourishing script it read: Merry Yule.
The cold winter melted slowly into spring and a knock on the door revealed a messenger from the King. He had returned to Pont Vanis and Triss was needed at his side. The following morning Triss strode from her bedroom looking fresh, radiant, and ready for a new start. Eskel sat at the table, needle in hand making repairs to his armored jacket.
"You shaved," she said stopping short.
"Yeah, end of winter and all. You look beautiful."
"Thank you," she said, blushing.
"Are you ready?"
"I suppose. Life goes on and I can't cower here forever. There is so much to be done here. I'll be heading a new council of mages. It's something I've always wanted. No scheming or plotting just cooperation and helping one another. I still miss him but I suppose I always will…What about you? Heading back out on the Path?"
"Eventually. I thought I would stick around a little longer. Pick up some work in Kovir, if that's alright with you." Triss smiled brightly. She had been dreading his leaving and coming home to an empty house. The lingering sadness was much easier to face when someone else was around.
"Of course. Stay as long as you like. To be truthful, I could still use the company." Eskel gave a small nod, a gesture Triss learned long ago that signified a witcher's agreement.
Eskel found that Kovir had lots of work for a witcher. He would range out from the cottage for the afternoon, then for the day. As spring turned to summer, he stayed out for a week or two before returning. Triss looked forward to his return when he was gone at length. She still hated being alone with nothing to keep her company but her memories. Occasionally he would stagger in with an injury that she deftly stitched up or sometimes used magic to heal. His body responded unusually well to magic.
One night he woke to sounds of muffled crying. He had been back for two days after a large nest of neckers tried to slice him open. Triss had cleansed the wound on his side and sealed it up with a dozen stiches and told him to rest a few days at least. Rising, he padded quietly to her room and pushed the door open. Her breathing was hard, and she thrashed in the already twisted sheet. Going to her side he called her name but she did not respond. He leaned over and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes snapped open and she took a deep breath as she looked up at him in the darkness. Her heartbeat slowed and her breath calmed. Eskel should have moved and returned to his own sleep but something kept him there, leaning over her.
Triss could feel his weight on the bed at her side. Slowly she reached a hand up, pulled him down and kissed him. The simple touch sent up a roar in Eskel's ears as he returned the kiss with great fervor. Lowering himself to the bed, he slid a hand down her body as their tongues grappled. Breaking away from her mouth he kissed down her neck, her hand running through his hair. He could feel her rapid pulse with his mouth and he savored that spot for just a moment, her scent strong in his nostrils.
"Oh…Geralt…" Eskel stilled and his blood cooled immediately. Even though his body craved the sexual connection, he pushed up and away from her and walked toward the door.
"Wha…" Triss sat up in a daze. Eskel stopped in the doorway and looked back over his shoulder, her form barely visible to normal eyes in the darkness.
"I am not Geralt." Eskel said, his voice hard yet sad. Then he walked away leaving Triss holding the covers to her chest, wondering what she had just done. In the morning, he had returned to the Path.
He stayed on the road for much longer this time, on purpose, although he would have to return eventually. A lot of his extra gear was still at the cottage. The brief episode had upset him. This was his friend's woman. She still grieved for him, yet he had given into a moment of physical need and weakness. He prided himself on having more control than Geralt. That was the one area where Geralt could not best him. Eskel had been the consummate professional, Geralt the playboy by comparison. Even before Dierdre had scarred him, Geralt had always been far more popular with women than he had. Geralt had the roguish manners and fine features. The white hair was also a draw for some reason. Eskel, with his near black locks and deep-set eyes, looked too brooding and dark to be approachable. Then after Dierdre, he had taken to drinking heavily and that only drove a bigger wedge between himself and any potential bedmates. Eskel was not a pretty sight when drunk.
The sun was high overhead assuring that Triss would not be at home when he returned. He let himself in after a bath in the river and set to a long awaited task. Dropping the extra saddlebags on the table he grabbed some liquid courage and sat. He poured the amber liquid and downed it quickly followed by another. The first bag held a coin pouch half full. Handy. There were two bottles of fifths essence, some draconid leather, and grapeshot bombs. He set out several small vials and bottles of the standard witcher potions; Cat, Swallow, and Tawny Owl, all of superior quality. Beside those he set a vial each of relict, necrophage, and specter oils. Everything was within the normal realm of a witcher's possessions.
Eskel moved on to the second bag. The buckle loosened, he could see a book and several sheets of parchment. What Will Become of Temeria? was the first item. The second was a child's drawing. Eskel looked carefully at it. It showed a little girl holding the hand of a witcher, Geralt. He wondered under what circumstances Geralt would have received this and why had he carried it with him. Moving on he pulled out a Greater Glyph of Igni and a Svarog runestone along with an Eye of Nehaleni. Very nice he thought, wondering how he had come by such a beautiful relic.
Eskel downed more of the alcohol before picking up the bag and shaking out another piece of parchment. He was about to pick it up and read it when Triss came in the door. He dropped the bag on the table and got to his feet. His head swam and he staggered as the floor tried to slip from beneath him. Focusing his gaze, he could see her eyes ringed with red. She had been crying. He thrust out his hand with the half full glass of liquor. She took it from him and made a face after drinking it. Guess they were still friends after all.
Eskel woke with a start. Opening his eyes, the morning sun illuminated the ceiling and he realized that he was not in the guest room and he was not alone. Looking down he was still wearing his linen shorts although the cord was untied and they were pulled very low on his hips. Turning his head, he saw Triss still asleep beside him, her shoulders bare. A sudden anger welled up in him. Eskel had heard that Triss had seduced Geralt years ago with a spell. Had she done that to him to assuage her pain and loneliness? Had she imagined that it was Geralt making love to her? Despite the pounding in his head, he jumped up, tied his shorts and gathered up the rest of his clothes.
"Eskel?"
"What?" he replied, the anger still roiling inside him as he pulled his pants on.
"What happened?" She said, confusion obvious in her voice as she rubbed her forehead.
"I don't know. You tell me." He said harshly.
"Why are you so angry?"
"Why…? I wake up mostly naked in your bed and I can't remember how I got there. That's why." Triss' face paled as he looked at her and it just made him angrier. "So, which one was it? A temporary enslavement spell? A forgetting spell? Did you make me look like him too? How many times did you say his name I wonder?"
"Eskel, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't …"
"Yeah, sure you don't." He grabbed his boots and headed to the door but turned back right before leaving. "I will not be used as a replacement for a dead man." Then he stalked to the guest room and slammed the door. When he emerged after packing Triss was gone. Dropping his gear by the door, Eskel sat at the table to gather up the things he had pulled out the day before. Then he slid a piece of thick parchment from beneath the bags. He turned it over and read the back and smiled. At least now he knew where he was headed.