Rayden sat slouched in the large seat; one leg slung over the arm. He tapped his finger against his bottom lip, deep in thought. Just a short few weeks ago, he led the procession following an ornate carriage that carried the body of Emhyr Var Emries to his final resting place. The day had been cold and overcast. Many had bundled up but Rayden, hardened by a few Koviri winters and life on The Path, rode only with his cape, snow accumulating on the shoulders. The day following the funeral, he had been coronated as the Emperor of Nilfgaard. It had been an insufferable ceremony with much pomp and toadying and an undercurrent of hostility. That afternoon, the personal guard of the Emperor had been given the option to serve or retire. They chose the latter.
So now here he sat with his sword strapped to his back on the throne of Nilfgaard. There were only a few people he came close to trusting. One was Tomas, his personal clerk, even though he had served Emhyr since his youth. Tomas was a font of very valuable and lifesaving information. Rayden had offered to release him from service also, but Tomas insisted on staying, replying that Rayden would need allies in his new court, and only he knew where all the skeletons were buried.
"Skeletons," he murmured to himself as he surveyed the empty room. Other than himself and Tomas, there were only a pair of guards at the door and the occasional servant crossing the hall. He pondered the emptiness and thought about the emptiness he witnessed as he sat at the bedside of a madman. For four months, he waited on Emhyr and listened to tales of deceit and treachery. Rayden learned a great deal from those stories. For instance, to expect a literal as well as a figurative knife to the back from anyone, which meant he must choose his inner circle carefully. Thus, he had released his guard and anyone else who wished to go. He begun currying favor with the servants in the castle through kindness and generosity. It helped prevent poison from being slipped into his food and drink.
A restlessness had settled in his chest in the last week. The court had been closed since the funeral and Rayden had sat reading the old tomes from his predecessor or the volumes of notes Tomas had taken over the years. Skeletons. He rose suddenly to his feet.
"Tomas, let's go to the dungeons."
"The dungeons, You Eminence?"
"Best place to find some skeletons. And stop calling me that." Rayden said as he walked down the steps of the dais. Tomas fell in step behind him.
"As you wish." He replied with a slight sigh. Tomas had told him not to shun the epithet completely. Reverence for his new position must be recognized.
The entrance to the dungeon was in the inner courtyard under the watchful eye of two soldiers. Seeing the approaching young Emperor, they looked puzzled yet held to full attention as he asked them to step aside. Rayden took the dark stone steps at a jaunty pace, alerting the guards on duty.
"Your Eminence!" The men at the table scuffled to their feet, cards falling to the dirty stone. Rayden just raised an eyebrow at them.
"Is there a ledger of prisoners?" He asked, deciding to ignore their pastime.
"Ledger?"
"Yes. A record of who is down here."
"Oh, uh, yes…yes." He hurried to a messy table and retrieved a heavy book. He bowed as he placed it in Rayden's hands. The cover was marred and dirty, dust covered the edge of the pages. Opening the book to the back, he discovered the last entry was over two years ago.
"According to this, no one has been imprisoned in over two years. Is this accurate?"
"Uh, not exactly, Your Eminence, no." The man shifted under Rayden's increasing agitated gaze. He slammed the book shut and threw it on the gambling table.
"I want to see the prisoners." There was a pause as the three guards looked at each other. "Now!" All jumped and the captain grabbed at the ring of keys on his waist. Rayden followed and waited as the heavy door was unlocked before shoving past and taking the lead.
Torches were hung by each occupied cell, three in all. Approaching the first, there was a man sitting quietly at the back in the dank shadows.
"You there. Come where I can see you." Rayden called. The man rose and shuffled through the filthy straw. When he came into the light Rayden could see was of near middle age, his beard long and dirty, his eyes sad. "Why are you here?"
"Ask them." He said quietly. Rayden looked over his shoulder.
"Uh, public fighting, Your Eminence. Can't have the common folk starting brawls, you know." Rayden turned back to the prisoner.
"Why were you fighting?" The man looked up at him in surprise. "What? No one ever asked you that?"
"No. A man attacked my daughter. I went looking for him."
"Found him, did you?"
"Aye."
"Kill him?"
"No. The guards came."
"Too bad. How long have you been here?"
"Over four months."
"How long was he supposed to be here, Captain?" Rayden asked once again turning to the jail guards.
"Uh…a week. Your Eminence. Your arrival at that time seem to have, uh, disrupted his release." The captain shrank back bit, realizing he had put blame on the Emperor. Rayden nodded and stepped back.
"Release him."
"Release him?"
"Is there an echo in here? Yes, release him. Now! Tomas, see to it that this man is compensated for his over lengthy incarceration. A bath, clean clothes and a purse full of coin. I want him escorted home and a report brought directly to me about any ills that have befallen his family in his absence. My arrival in Nilfgaard was no excuse to overlook this man."
"As you wish." Tomas bowed his head and began writing in his ever-present notebook. Rayden moved down toward the next occupied cell. A high screech emanated from the darkness and a pair of arms jutted out through the bars. Rayden quickly pulled his sword, slapping the offending hands away.
"Rip the flesh!" The nails were broken and bleeding, chunks of flesh missing from his arms.
"Captain?" Rayden asked not taking his eyes from the cell.
"Salt the wound!" Came the screamed reply.
"Uh, he uh, killed his neighbor. And ate him." Rayden made a disgusted noise and moved on.
"Make sure the log-book is updated, Captain." The Captain merely nodded. The group went down the dark row to the end and the final torch. Rayden looked in and squinted in the darkness. He removed the torch from its hanger and squatted down turning the torch to get at much light as possible inside. It appeared to be a woman lying on the pile of straw. She moved and moaned slightly. There was something vaguely familiar about her.
"Hello there…" he said softly. She opened her eyes. Rayden started back. "Dear gods! Keys! Now!" The captain fumbled with the lock and was once again shoved aside as Rayden dove into the cell and knelt beside the woman.
"Yennifer." He said, breathless. He took her hands in his and discovered her hands in dimeritium cuffs. He checked her ankles and found the same. She tried weakly to scoot away from him, but he held fast to her hand.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I know who you are. You saved my father's life." He carefully pulled the wolf head amulet from under his shirt and she stopped struggling. "Captain, where are the keys to these cuffs?" The short man stumbled up behind him.
"Uh…are you sure? I mean the Emperor…"
"I AM the Emperor!" Rayden yelled, snatching the keyring and unlocked each cuff. Yennifer sighed and rubbed her wrists, raw with the burn of the dimeritium. Rayden scooped her up in his arms.
"Tomas!"
"Yes, Your Eminence?" He responded with the hated epithet to remind these dark dwelling soldiers who was in charge now. Rayden rolled his eyes.
"Where are her quarters?"
"The opposite wing from yours, although we cannot open them. The door has been magically sealed."
"Then send a maid to my rooms with food. Also have a guest room prepared. I will be summoning my mother."
"Of course, Your Eminence." Tomas replied, bowing as Rayden walked past.
Once in his personal quarters, he lay the battered sorceress on a chaise near the large tub. Yennifer opened her eyes at the soft contact and watched as Rayden touched the side of the tub. He whispered a few words and the hot water filled it. He then moved to a mirror in the corner and touched a ruby on the frame and after a brief incantation, his youthful image wavered and was replaced by a familiar face.
"Rayden! I have wonderful news! Your…"
"Not now, Mom. I need your help."
"Of course. What is wrong?" Triss asked, concerned. Rayden decided not to beat around the bush.
"I found Yennifer in the dungeons. She is in bad shape."
"The dungeons! For how long?"
"I don't know. About two years, I think. That's when they stopped recording their prisoners. She was shackled hand in foot in dimeritium." Triss' image paled.
"Dear gods. I'm on my way." The image in the mirror wavered and disappeared. Rayden sat carefully on the edge of the chaise.
"We've…never…met," she croaked, her voice dry from disuse.
"No. I'm Rayden. I would add apprentice witcher, but his whole Emperor thing got in the way." He joked.
"Eskel…"
"Is alive and well. Thanks to you. Odds are good you'll see him sometime."
"Triss…your…mother?"
"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. She and Eskel raised me and my sister. She'll be here in a moment to look after you. We can talk when you are feeling better." A gentle knock on the door and Rayden called to enter. A maid came in with a tray of fresh bread and hot broth. Yen eyed the sparse fair greedily. The maid bowed her head and curtsied to Rayden before setting the tray down. She helped Yen hold the cup of broth and encouraged small sips.
Rayden felt the amulet at his chest vibrate immediately before a portal opened and Triss hurried through, rushing to Yen's side.
"Yen! Oh my…how on earth did you survive this…?" She examined the raw burns left by the shackles. "I'll have you right soon. I promise." Yen watched as Triss pulled herbs from the bag over her shoulder and dropped them in the hot bath water. How she could have thought meanly of her before? But that was then, this is now. Triss said an incantation and the water began to bubble gently, then she turned to Rayden.
"Out." She pointed at the door.
"Huh? Why?" Triss didn't stop to answer but pulled him to his feet and gave him a soft push toward the door.
"Okay, okay. I'm going." The last thing he saw before his own door closed was the horrified maid, astonished at the Emperor being so manhandled.
Rayden wandered out to the barracks of the castle guard. It was one of the few places he felt comfortable. Until recently that is. Now that he officially wore the crown, the men were stiff and formal. As it should be, I suppose.
"Your Eminence?" A tall young captain stopped and addressed him with surprise. Rayden gave a wry smile.
"Hello, Patrick." When Rayden had first arrived in Nilfgaard, he had insisted on retaining his physical training regimen. Emhyr had grudgingly acquiesced and sent a request to the guard house for sparring partners. No one was eager to train with a princeling so Patrick, being the newest captain, was forced into volunteering himself and his small group of men. It was a pleasant surprise to find not a spoiled prince, but a true swordsman, so young and yet already a master of his craft. Through their hours of practice, they formed a friendship of sorts.
"What brings you down?" He also knew Rayden hated to be call 'Your Eminence'.
"It seems I have been kicked out of my room. My mother is here, so…Want to knock around a little?" Patrick gestured forward and the made their way to the sparring circle. Rayden took the opportunity to ferret out some information.
"What do you know about the Sorceress Yennifer?" He asked as they walked.
"Not much I'm afraid. I saw her once or twice, but she disappeared a couple of years ago. She and…" he paused searching for the correct word before continuing, "Emhyr…had it out. Huge fight. The whole place talked about for days. The next morning, poof, she was gone." They reached the circle and paused. That was about what he figured. He pulled his weapon and stepped into the dirt arena.
"Would it surprise you to know I found her in the dungeon?" Rayden said softly. Patrick blinked.
"Yes…" he bobbed his head a bit in thought. "And no. I'm not native to this land and I have noticed an undercurrent of malice everywhere and in everything. I tell you this only because you, too, are an outsider. I understand you are without a personal guard." Rayden smiled again and lifted his prized weapon.
"Yeah. Just me and my sword. They didn't seem too keen on me. Thought it best to let them go if they wanted."
"Probably a wise move. They are most likely how the sorceress wound up in the dungeon in the first place. Their loyalty to Emhyr was faultless." Rayden looked up into the man's eyes and found him serious and intent. The amulet, also enchanted to detect deceit, remained still.
"Shall we? I must warn you…my training with a certain princeling has improved my form," Patrick said. Rayden chuckled.
"We'll see." The pair took their positions then began the fight. The sound of steel ringing out so late drew curious spectators. Word spread that the Emperor himself came down to spar and the crowd grew. Torches around the circle lit up the fight, cheers from different sides came as the two in center landed blows. Sweat began to run down their faces at the exertion. Rayden's experience wore the other man down. Patrick fell to a knee in surrender, panting.
"I…yield." He said with a grin. "One of these days, though…"
"One of these days I wager you will. But not today." Rayden held out his hand to pull his opponent to his feet. Suddenly the expression on Patrick's face changed, his gaze went over the should of the new Emperor. There in the shadows…
"Down!" He yelled as he tackled Rayden to the ground as an arrow flew overhead. "In the shadows, by the gardens!" he yelled to his men who had come to join the festivities. The group of five pulled out daggers and ran in the direction indicated. Other soldiers fanned out to scour the rest of the grounds. Rayden lay pinned to the ground, helpless.
"Let me up. I can fight."
"No. Last I knew you weren't actually a witcher and can't parry arrows." Patrick replied, still scanning the darkness. After a few quiet minutes, Patrick rose and pulled Rayden up, standing between him and the darkness. His men were returning shaking their heads.
"We looked everywhere. There was no one. We did find this," The man produced a rope and hook. "Whoever it was went over the wall."
"This arrow is coated with something," another soldier said as he looked at the arrow that lodged in one of the torch pillars. Rayden looked to Patrick.
"You saved my life."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I believe you're a good man and this place has seen enough wickedness. Forgive me for telling you what to do, but you really need to replace your guard."
"Yeah." Rayden whispered, his mind reeling. Someone had just tried to kill him. And Patrick was right, he couldn't parry arrows. "So…how would you and your men like a promotion?"
"Rayden, this is serious." Triss said sternly as she paced at the foot of the enormous bed. The morning sun peered through the window and Yennifer sat propped up with pillows sipping her tea. After an intense magical intervention, the dark-haired sorceress was much improved, yet still very weak.
"You think I don't know that? Ever since I got here, I've been dodging trouble. It wasn't until Emhyr died that shit started to happen. I'm in over my head here!" He flopped back into a large chair and ran his hands over his face, breathing out harshly. Triss stopped and looked at her son. He was drawn and tired, dark circles under his eyes and the hilt of hovered noticeably over his shoulder.
"I know, honey. I wish…" She trailed off not knowing what exactly she wished for.
"I know, Mom." He replied softly. Yen watched the exchange between them. She had never seen Triss as the mothering type yet even in her weakened state she could feel the unsettling fear roll off her as she realized the danger surrounding her adopted son. She set her cup on the tray beside her and cleared her throat.
"You said you wanted to talk when I felt better. Well, I feel better." Yen folded her hands over her lap. Rayden leaned forward on his knees and focused intently on her.
"You and Emhyr fought. About what?"
"Right to the point."
"I don't have time for games."
"No, you don't." She agreed and took another sip of tea. "Emhyr and I fought about Eskel, more or less. Emhyr was dying. The spell I used on him over 20 years ago had failed. Turns out it was an old necromancy spell and required Eskel's dying blood to properly complete. Since that failed, Emhyr's health began to rapidly decline a few years ago. When we fought, he was using a cane. He executed Master Plaman and had his guard drag me to the dungeon. I was preparing to flee when they threw a dimeritium bomb at me, in case you were wondering. Magic is not overly popular or well known in Nilfgaard, but Emhyr knew how to combat it none the less."
"His personal guard? Glad I got rid of them."
"So, you've been your own protection?" Yen asked curiously.
"Yeah."
"Rayden," Triss interjected, "you need to replace them. You can't sleep with one eye open for the rest of your life."
"Already taken care of. The man I spar with, the one who saved my life last night, and his men are currently getting new armor and the best weapons." He faced Yen. "What else should I know?"
"Trust no one. Rather, find the few you can trust. Clearly you trust this soldier enough to have him lead your personal guard. Tomas is trustworthy, I will say. He has no love for Emhyr. He apprenticed his father as clerk and took up the roll upon his death. He stayed because to leave was death. For him and his family. He had a wife and young children then. Nilfgaard is a dangerous place. For all the advancements and beautiful cities, death lurks around every corner and not from any monster you are used to battling. This is a monster that requires the battle of the mind. You can't hack it to death with your sword. Remember, I too know witchers." Rayden sat back and considered. He could use an additional advisor and she seemed to know her way around all this subterfuge.
"Yennifer, would you consider staying? As my advisor?" She looked at him with wide eyes, something akin to fear looked back at him. "I will not force you." He added.
"I…I don't know. I need time away from this place. The memories…" Rayden thought she looked crushed beneath the weight of her thoughts. Triss sat next to her and placed her hand over hers.
"We'll be leaving tomorrow. I think some fresh air and change of scenery will be good for her. I'll send your father back to help you." Triss said. Rayden nodded. Eskel would be a great help and comfort. And he missed his father. He stood, straightening his weapon.
"I look forward to it. And Yen, take all the time you need. Don't feel like you have to come back." He gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and left the room. Yen sat staring at the door. What a curious young man, she thought. It had been a long time since she had run across anyone who treated a sorceress as a human being instead of property. I just might come back, if only to see how this plays out.