Brillen was not a small town per se. It had several rows of houses separated by wide alleys, a market square with multiple shops and a fountain in the middle, a huge inn and even a minuscule chapel made of stone. All of this was surrounded by a wooden fence that even though it wasn't high enough to fully cover the houses alongside the fence, it would serve well in need of defense. There was even a door that could be closed if that need came. But the witcher had never seen it closed. Not even at night.

Geralt reached the town when the sun was sitting low but still above the horizon, throwing shades of orange at the clouds. It was a nice view, but Geralt couldn't find it in him to enjoy it. He caught a glimpse of a few boys playing outside on a stock of big logs, but they disappeared into the town once they spotted him. Geralt stopped, thinking. The argument with Nenneke left a heavy feeling in his stomach, so instead of leading Roach straight into the town, he turned left to a willow avenue near the local graveyard.

"Come on, Roach," he told her when she nudged her nose into his neck. "Don't start with it too." He hung the reins on a branch, not tying them up, scratched her withers and left.

Once behind the fence, the witcher walked past the stables and headed straight for the Fox Hole. Based on the typical tavern hustle, it was probably as full as the day before. If he wouldn't find Renaud inside, he was sure there would be someone to point him in some direction.

A few paces from the inn, a boy with straight dark hair crossed his path. He was small, even smaller than Ella and his neck must have hurt as he looked up on the tall witcher.

"Did you find Ella?" the boy asked with a certain heartache in his voice. "Where is she?"

Geralt didn't know what to say. The boy could have been her friend, or he could also work for Renaud, or he could be both, which was sad, because Geralt couldn't risk telling him the truth.

"Where can I find her father?" the witcher said coldly.

"She's dead, isn't she!" the boy said, trying to sound cold too, but his watery eyes revealed the hurt.

"I need to see her father."

"He's in his merchant house. Waiting for you," the boy said and pointed at the biggest house, quite standalone, hard to miss. "Ella better be okay!" the boy scowled angrily and ran away.

Geralt looked around. Before the boy appeared out of nowhere, he noticed a few townsfolk walking on the streets, coming back to their homes, meeting friends, heading to the inn, or feeding the horses. When the boy ran off, the streets were empty.

"Fuck," Geralt muttered. It could mean only one thing. The streets were about to get dangerous.

His fingers twitched in urge to unsheathe his sword but drawing in a deep breath he buried the uneasy feeling and started walking towards the merchant house. It was made of wooden planks, painted white and had two floors. All windows were wide open and only the ground floor looked occupied. The witcher glanced around one more time and entered the house.

"Welcome to my shop, Master Witcher!" Renaud Croenn said jovially, spreading his arms in mocked welcoming. "Come in!"

Geralt let out a silent growl and looked around. The room was wide and served both as a work room and a shop. Long tables with household items were on display along the sidewalls and in the back, the tables held some very fine products such as leather, glass, and jewels.

There were three armed men standing by the tables. Geralt recognized one of them from the inn. Renaud was sitting on a table in the middle, his tears and misery all gone. Even his ginger hair was combed back.

"Have you found my daughter?"

"You don't look like you miss her anymore," Geralt said with a crooked smile, piercing the man with his eyes. "As a matter of fact, it seems that her absence had done you good, Master Renaud," he added, also mockingly.

Renaud burst out laughing. "Hilarious, witcher. Now tell me where she is."

"I don't know," Geralt lied, shrugging. "The forests are large. I spent the whole night looking for her, found no trace of her, my apologies. I came back only for the coin you promised for my attempt to find her."

The mercenaries scoffed but did not move from their places. Renaud jumped down from the table and made a few steps towards the witcher.

"You see, witcher," Renaud sneered with disdain, dropping the Master for good. "Chid and Rolly here," he pointed at the two men standing on the left, "they are, in fact, quite good in tracking. I may or may not completely forget to tell you that yesterday!" Renaud spread his arms again and laughed to himself.

Geralt slowly blinked, yearning to start a fight. He had enough. But there was something that stopped him. He had to know for sure whether they were able to track him as far as the path to the temple lead. If they knew he brought Ella there, he had to warn Nenneke somehow.

"Well, Chid and Rolly," Renaud stopped Geralt's thoughts and pacing around and gesticulating, he continued. "They went after your tracks, and you won't believe what they found!"

"What?"

"A body of a fucking Fegord of Attre. Also called Fegord the Bald! The chief bandit who had been shitting on my head since I can remember." Renaud picked something from a table and his face cringed. "I took his fat finger as a memory. So, thank you, witcher! You have made my life easier."

"You fucker," Geralt said through his teeth.

Renaud smirked. "Oh and wait! They also found a dead chort. A bonus! The beast had been troubling us the last three weeks. Big thanks to me," he half-assed a bow, then continued, "you took care of it too! And some folks still think I don't care about them!"

Geralt was fuming, he didn't expect that, his blood started boiling and he knew he wouldn't be able to stand and listen to his cheap acting much longer. Without raising any suspicion, he quickly measured his opponents and considered where to strike first.

"What they didn't find however, is my damned daughter." Renaud dropped his theatrics, stopped his steps, stopped throwing his arms around and put them across his chest. He looked the witcher in the eye and deadly serious said: "I want the brat back."

"That's too bad, you will never see her again."

Drawing his sword, Geralt threw himself at Renaud but as he expected, Chid was first to block his way. The mercenary had a very fine weapon, a pointed, single edged falchion with engravings in old speech alongside the blunt edge and some decent decorations placed in the handle. While the quality of weapons didn't always resemble the quality of the swordsman, there was always a chance it might. Especially when the weapon was sharp and shiny, undeniably cared for. And Geralt was not mistaken. Chid mastered the falchion with the elegance of eagle's flight.

All three men attacked at once, surrounding him and even though the room wasn't small, with all the furniture and trade goods, it provided hardly enough space to avoid attacks from three sides. Geralt had to step in quick circles to block a thrust from one to another. As he protected his left side, it was hard to find an opening to strike at them, and none of his attacks were met with success.

When Chid and Rolly nodded at each other to synchronize and were about to attack alongside, the witcher jumped at the third man. He butt-headed him and then locked the man's sword in between their bodies, triumphantly disarming him. Geralt turned around with him as a shield and thrust his sword through his stomach. He kicked him to get the sword out and threw him in the way of the other two. Chid avoided with a turn and using the opportunity that Geralt opened his left side when throwing the man away, he stretched out his hand to lay a blow.

Geralt saw it. He swapped his sword to his left hand and spun his body away from Rolly to block Chid's falchion. Rolly's longsword grazed deeply the witcher's forearm as the two beautiful weapons clanged.

First blood was drawn, and Renaud cheered from behind the table where he had backed out when the fight started.

Geralt gritted his teeth, but it was a small price to pay, rather his arm than the side which was already throbbing under his movements. Being hit there would shorten the battle significantly, he knew that.

Chid was good. He learned quickly where to aim, he discovered Geralt's weakness fast and kept attacking him from the left. Geralt needed to kill him. Their weapons reverberated in the series of attacks as they danced around, smoothly blocking each other. But Geralt wasn't able to score as he still had to worry about Rolly, who wasn't bad at all himself.

"More of his blood, boys!" Renaud cheered again.

Instead, blood of his men was finally spilled. Geralt took a risk and raising his left elbow up he thrust it towards Rolly's neck and pinned him to a wall. The man choked as his adam's apple was pushed in. Chid's eyes widened as he saw his friend in trouble. He lost his focus and Geralt had a clear path to swing his sword at Chid's head. It stuck in his skull and Chid fell, eyes scrolling up. Geralt pulled out his sword and finished Rolly with a blow to his neck.

Renaud was silent.

Breathing fast, Geralt turned to face him. He expected to see some hint of fear but there wasn't any. The opposite, Renaud stepped away from the table and was almost inviting the witcher to come.

"Last chance, witcher," Renaud said. "Where is my daughter?"

The witcher was foolish to let Renaud lure him. He should have seen the signs. But over the haze of vengeful bloodlust, he didn't see a thing. Geralt came to him and reached for his throat. He took in a breath to say something, but the air was rushed out of him before he could form the words.

An arrow came through the window behind him. It penetrated his leather armor that was in miserable condition and lodged inside his shoulder, between his right collarbone and shoulder blade. He felt it touch the shoulder blade and his whole arm and back vibrated in pain. The witcher gasped in surprise while Renaud wasn't surprised at all. Before Geralt could recover from the pain and swallow it, Renaud kicked him in his groin and then punched his stomach.

Geralt bent over and fell on his knees. From the corner of his eye, he could see two men come through the door. He would curse if he could. They hit him over his back hard and the witcher met the ground. Stamping on him, Renaud pinned him to the wooden floor while the others held him down. Renaud ducked down and digging his knee into the witcher's back he grasped the arrow protruding from his shoulder.

"Where is Ella?" Renaud yelled and ruthlessly twisted the arrow, tearing the flesh inside. Geralt cried out, twitching his arms and legs to get out of the hold. He couldn't.

"Fuck-" Geralt shouted, then his breath hitched, "-youuuu." He growled as the arrow rotated again.

"I'm gonna get it out of you!" Renaud yelled over the witcher's gasps, then took his head and smashed it against the floor. "Pick him up!" he ordered. Geralt had to slacken in his struggles as they all were in vain, and the pain strained him. He was grabbed by his arms and raised up with ease. He automatically tried to pull his hands in front of him to prevent whatever attacks that might come, but they were harshly tugged back. He could only hold his breath as another wave of pain ran through his shoulder.

"Tell me where the fuck did you hide my daughter," Renaud said and punched the witcher in the face so his head jerked to the side. "Don't even think you'll have her for yourself!" Renaud put on a metal glove from a table and delivered several blows to the stomach. Geralt started coughing. He felt blood inside his mouth even though there was none until another hit came and his teeth covered with fresh red liquid as it split his lip. He heard pounding inside his head and his vision was slowly getting blurred. He knew he had to do something soon, but he couldn't manage to break loose.

"Wait," Geralt said as he saw Renaud pulling his gloved hand to strike again. "Wait," he repeated, panting heavily, not sure if he was heard and not even sure what he was going to say. He spat some blood on the floor and looked at Renaud. "It's easy Renaud. I killed your enemies, saved your daughter, and took care of your monster. You refused to pay. I'll get her as payment then. It's an honest trade. You shall not have a problem with that."

Renaud started laughing.

"Either pay up or Ella is mine."

"You are insane, witcher! No fucking way," Renaud said and to fortify his answer he kicked the witcher in the stomach. Hard. It hurt a ton, but it was the moment that saved him, because the force broke off the hold the men had on him. Geralt was trained well to fight through pain and blurriness when the stakes were high. He tugged free both of his hands, elbowed the man on the left in the eye and kicked the one on the right to the knee. The kick was so hard that the knee broke, and the man fell down crying.

Geralt quickly picked up his sword and shoved it into the other man, he was dead instantly.

Renaud backed off into a corner of the room with a window just opposite of him. Geralt tightened the grip on his sword and without hesitation he strolled straight for him. As he began his third step, another arrow swished through the open door and it embedded in the side of his belly. Geralt yelped and moved back out of the door frame. His chest heaved in attempts to breathe through the searing pain.

"Fuck," he whispered as he looked down at his bloodied fingers curled around the wooden shaft.

"You are trapped, witcher," Renaud said. "Every window or door is covered. Tell me where she is, and I'll spare you."

Geralt ignored him. He knew his only chance was to get out while there was still some strength in him and Renaud was not a threat, the man was clearly afraid of close contact with the witcher without his men to protect him, so he could afford to ignore him. The question was how many archers were waiting hidden outside. Gathering his strength, Geralt swiped the room for something he could use to protect himself, his reflexes weren't that good considering the state he was in and there was no chance he would be able to deflect a storm of arrows.

He quickly sheathed the sword, hissing as he felt the shafts in his body move. He grabbed a table with plates and bowls that scattered to the ground next to dead bodies of Chid and Rolly. Without a glance at the man in the corner, Geralt left the merchant house.

"You crazy fucker! I will find her myself!" Renaud shouted. "Kill him!"

The arrows swooshed past him like hailstones. The first thing he noticed was the front door to the town. He had to change his plans because he wasn't getting out through them. For the first time in history the door to Brillen was closed. Geralt cursed and started running to the other side towards the row of small shops and houses behind the market square. Maybe he could find another exit in the back of the town. He was almost at the first house when another flock of arrows came upon him, at his unprotected side. He shifted the table and managed to cover his head and body, but one of the arrows found its target and sank into his thigh.

Geralt stumbled as it burned but he ran on, disappearing between the houses. Exhausted, he loosened his grip on the table and it slid down along his thigh, breaking the shaft that was lodged in it. With a grunt he placed his hand over the bleeding wound, feeling the broken end of the arrow between his ripped flesh. He cursed and forced his body to make a few more unstable paces. Unable to continue, he hid in a patch of bushes in one of the backyard gardens.

He needed to catch a breath. With his hands, he brushed his blood-stained hair away from his face and looked up. It was almost dark. He just had to wait for a bit and hope he won't be found.

"They will find you here," a child's voice said.

Geralt startled and turned to the voice. The boy with dark hair he met earlier was staring at him. The one who was a friend of Ella. As he heard shouts of Renaud and his men coming closer Geralt laughed in disbelief. His life was in the hands of a child.

The boy inspected the witcher with curious eyes. There was blood falling down his face, blood stains on his shirt, an arrow protruding from his back and stomach, his both hands were red and wet, both clutching at his bleeding thigh and the witcher's body shook with every breath.

"Will you survive?"

Geralt nodded slowly. "If I get out," he whispered, "to my horse…, near the graveyard."

"I can help you," the boy offered. "I know a secret passage through the fence."

Geralt glanced at him. The boy wanted to negotiate. "I cannot tell you… where she is, boy."

"Why?"

"Because Ella doesn't want her father to- to find her. I promised her… she will never have to see him again."

"You are a witcher," the boy said, pointing at his medallion. "Are you planning to make witcher of her?!"

Geralt let out a sigh. Voices of Renaud's men were coming closer. "No! Girls… can't be witchers."

The boy was considering the answer.

"You should run away. With me or without…. They can't see you with me."

The boy scanned both paths and then grasped Geralt's hand. "Come."

They escaped through narrow alleys to the back of the town. Geralt grunted when the throbbing in his thigh became unbearable and he tumbled on his knee. The boy shushed him silent but stopped to wait for him. When they reached the hidden door, the boy caught the hem of Geralt's shirt and pulled him down to face him.

"I want to see Ella. I would come with you, but I've got to take care of my mother and sisters so I can't. It's not safe for girls here. But tell Ella I want to see her. Once. When it's safe. She'll know where."

Geralt was silent, the boy's plea was gut-wrenching.

"Tell her," the boy repeated louder.

"I will," Geralt said, and the boy let him go.

The darkness that filled the sky came as a blessing. The witcher walked unsteadily by the outer side of the fence still hearing the men looking for him and then dashed to the graveyard where Roach was waiting. Run to the woods, were the last words he said before passing out from exhaustion up on Roaches back.

Roach galloped slowly as she felt her master sag down in the saddle, but it took only a few yards for him to regain consciousness again. She quickened her pace then and reached the forest before the men in Brillen opened the main door to look for the witcher outside. Although he killed the two trackers Renaud had told him about, the witcher couldn't be sure there weren't others. His archers could be hunters as well and hunters knew how to track. Over her protests, he led Roach deeper in the forest the opposite way from the temple. When they came across a forest stream, he allowed her to turn and carry him the right way.

The surface under the stream slowed them down but the witcher didn't let the mare climb up from it, although she tried. Repeatedly. She knew the road ahead of them was hours long and her master was injured. Eventually, the mare with a headstrong nature stopped listening to him. She found her way to a road and rushed towards the temple as fast as she could. It was pitch dark in the forest, so it was a mystery how Roach found the way through it, but she did.

Geralt didn't have the strength to control her anymore. He didn't even hold the reins, he clinged on the saddle and pressed his other hand around the arrow in his belly to keep it in place. It didn't bleed much, and he needed it to stay that way.

"Whoa, Roach" Geralt indicated to her to stop when they finally emerged from the woods and were out in the open. The moon lightened up the long fields in front of them. She obeyed but snorted anxiously. "Just a moment," he breathed out and watched with worry as his hands trembled. "Fuck."

He searched the saddlebags for his potions. He took Tawny owl for endurance and Swallow for healing and drank it. It wasn't probably the best idea to stress his body with the toxins, but he needed something to boost him for the long journey. His body was jostled every time Roaches hooves touched the ground, and he knew he wouldn't be able to bear it for hours without any help. The potion burned in his throat, but it seemed to do its job and the witcher felt it dull his pain and calm down his shaking hands.

Roach waited for her master to hold onto her and then sprinted straight over the fields.

TBC

Note:
If you are wondering why Geralt is not victorious against some random bunch of mercenaries who are working for some random small-town merchant, here's my explanation.

I tried to mimic Sapkowski's style of writing sword scenes and battles. Clearly, he enjoys them, so compared to the TV show, it takes Geralt more time to fight through his opponents. If you recall his fight with Michelet brothers in S2, (not a bad fight choreography, sure, but) this was totally different in books, with totally different outcome. He was barely alive at the end of that fight (yeah, I'm angery about the S2 not including this, suckers). Also, I took the liberty of putting him in bad shape before the fight. Besides Geralt was asking for some good whump anyway, nay?