.V. The Bear: .I. Humble beginnings.
Everything began in a cold winter's day, in the middle of Imbolc.
On a day in the middle of the week. A week in which snow kept on falling on the isles of Skellige.
In the room of a small hut in a village southeast of Kaer Gelen. A woman named Greta, gave birth to a beautiful child. With her husband, Gerst, on her right side and her sister Neena, on the left.
She held in her arms her baby, her boy, the light of her life, the one thing that she loved more than anything else.
From outside the hut you could hear among the Imbolc's violent winds, the cries of a baby, the joyful laughs of his father and the calm voice of his mother. While the snow kept falling as the cold wind stopped it from settling upon the heaps of snow that covered the ground.
'What is it my dear ? You hungry ? Yes ? Hmm, yes you are...', said Greta playfully, while holding her son's small hands, as he held her thumb on his small palms and her fingers wrapped around his forearm. Leaning her face on his chest, while her son was smiling, giggling, touching his mother's cheeks.
'Come on. Let's feed that hungry tummy of yours...', continued the loving mother.
Three months later, winter became spring on the lands of Skellige. The weather calmed and the men had to resume to their usual activities, fishing, hunting, and as it was Skellige, raiding. A few raids were set for the lands of Cidaris, Nilfgaard and the Arc Coast of Redania, among those excited adventure seekers was Gerst, who represented his clan, Clan Drummond. He, was also Greta's husband and he was to raid the coast villages and cities of Nilfgaard and a few others on their way there.
'Greta !', shouted Gerst as he closed the hut' door.
'Yes.', answered his wife as she rushed in the main chamber, 'What's wrong ?'.
'Wrong ? Nothing ! That's what ! Everything's bliss, my dear wife.', responded her husband with excitement.
'How so ?', asked Greta, preparing the supper for her husband.
'I'm to go on a raid three days from today. To the lands of The Black Ones.'.
'That is good.'.
'Good ?! You're crazy woman ? That is a extraordinary ! Just sailing to that land will be a tremendous adventure. One in a life time. For I am to join the Jarl in one of his famous raids south, one get's this at least once in a life time, I tell yaa.'.
'Alright. Now just sit your ass down and eat.', she said smiling, then she kissed her husband on the cheek.
'Very well then...', he continued as he placed his hands on his hips, holding his belt. 'But first, how is my son ?', he asked, as he went towards their son's room. 'Aha ! My dragon ! Was your mother good to you ?', from the door his wife was watching him, and subtly raised her right eyebrow. 'Hah, of course she was. One great lass she is, no one better on those damned isles.', he said with a big smile as he looked at Greta, who was smiling as well, leaning on the door jamb. He held his son up, giggling as he was pulling on his father's beard. 'Ha ! You have hands like hooks !', he giggled, then put him back in his crib.
'Now go eat, I'll put him to sleep.', said Greta as she entered the room, approaching her husband.
'Yes my dear.', he responded, kissing his wife's forehead and headed towards the kitchen and sat at the table, breaking a bread in two and started to eat. Listening to the song Greta hummed and sang to her baby.
A few hours later that same night...
'How long will you be away ?', asked Greta, as she turned, facing her husband.
'Well, the others predicted at least a few months. I, say we'll be returning in three, but, the winds seem strong. So perhaps less.'.
The days passed as quick as the flashes of lighting on the sky during a storm, for the day in which Gerst had to go had come. He took his shield and axe and wore his blue Tunic and was prepared to leave for Holmstein's port, where the Jarl's fleet was awaiting.
'I love you, husband and I already count the moments until your return.', said Greta to Gerst, as he stepped out the door of their hut.
'I love you to, wife. And I shall keep you in my heart and dreams.'. He touched his forehead to hers and kissed his son's, who was in Greta's arms. 'I will come back with chest's of gold and silver.'. He then walked towards his horse, and jumped on the saddle. He looked at his wife and son then turned his head, grabbed the horse's reins and shook them, the horse began to walk and soon it began to gallop.
Greta watched him getting further until she lost his sight near the hills and woods. Then, turned and stepped inside the hut, where her sister was, Neena.
Time as it is his nature, passes. Without mercy and without looking back to those it leaves behind, those that perish due it's constant persistence. It only knows forward, and only forward will it go. The old and wise folk say 'Don't dwell in the past, look at what you have now, not what you left behind.'. For all do that, regrets of what they lost, of their decisions, of what could've been. It happens to everyone. But, nobody has ever chosen the perfect way, for there is no such thing as perfect.
Time passed, who would've thought.
Greta's son was older now, and it was only a few more weeks until his father presumed return. Who was still in his adventure on the Nilfgaardian coast, while Greta and her sister Neena were way back on Skellige Isles, on Ard Skellig. His son was now seven months old and already a restless fella, throwing spoons and bowls off the table, while his aunt, Neena, picked them up, only for him to throw them again. Babies, they grow fast and learn even faster how to get you mad. He resembled his mother in that way, as when he didn't throw them on the floor he kept knocking them against the table.
'So, we're gonna visit mother today ?', asked Neena.
'Around noon, maybe ?,' responded Greta. while cleaning the kitchen table.
'That sounds good.', answered Neena.
As the Jarl, Bjorn of Drummond, was away as well. Only a few men were left to protect his domain. Thus, he asked another clan, Clan Brokvar, from which he took a dozen of men on his raid as reward, to defend the keep of Kaer Muire, and the village beneath. His wife was with child and expecting soon. As her nine months were set to come to an end in a week or so. While awaiting her husband's return from his raid.
Jarl Bjorn of Drummond was famous among his people. Still young, in his late twenties, he had to follow his father Rogar, who died in a raid on the same lands he was now. Set to avenge him, as he died at the swords of the black ones.
Like a faithful reflection of his father he was well known among his men, famous for his few, but successful raids, who brought back to the isles chests filled with gold and silver, and gained fame across the isles and fear on the continent. He was a tall, fair haired jarl of the southern side of Ard Skellige, soon to be the father of Lugos Harelip, and later the grandfather of Madman Lugos. Through him his clan gained more fame, reaching the same infamy as the other clan on the island, an Craite. Who was a powerful clan, and felt the rising strength of their southern neighbor. Considered by a few invaders, as Clan Drummond stepped into their territory, and that they should've remained on Undvik. Even though that happened a few generations back, like three centuries ago, to be exact. There were a few that kept holding onto that grudge.
Luckily, an Craite, had a wise jarl and later king. Erlend an Craite the Stonefist, who was the legendary monarch of Skellige. He did not share what the few others thought of Clan Drummond, as he accepted the pact made by his ancestors and greeted the help, strength and fame of the southern clan. Proving it with the many invitations he sent the jarl, on his festive feasts and famous raids. He had been blessed with three children, two sons and a daughter. While his sons were still young, his daughter was at least twenty years old, ready to marry. Men from the isles and the continent trampled themselves to ask for her hand in marriage. But, she refused them all, saying with a cold tone that, 'She did not want nor need a husband at the moment'. However, she continued to be persuaded by other clans, jarl's sons, but, she didn't change her mind. As her father simply said 'She does what she wants, and I'm not the one to stop her.'. He said that during a feast as it became clear that the king, Erlend, doesn't even think to force her marry anyone.
Another day came to an end, as the sun set to dusk into The Great Sea once again. Greta with her son and sister, Neena, were at their mother's house.
It was a star filled sky night, no cloud could be seen, summer clearly had began. Between all the shining stars, the shiniest one had risen, it was the full moon.
A moon which marked an important day, the most crucial point. For it was the day everything began to fall into place.
At Verna's house, it was time for supper, as both her daughters arranged the table, while the mother filled the bowls. Greta's son was watching it all from the crib his mother placed him in, playing with a wooden spoon and slamming it from time to time against the bed's side. As the mother and her younger daughter took their places around the table, Greta fed her child before feeding herself.
'So...When does he return ?', asked the mother.
'Hmm, soon...I hope, it has been three months already, and that was two days ago.'.
'Mother, she's worried as it is. Don't make it worse.', said Neena.
'What ? I was just curious...It's alright to talk about such things, what else are we women supposed to do when our husbands are gods know where...'.
'Mother...', continued Neena.
'Greta, my dear. You have not a thing to worry about, he's a handy fella, he'll be back. Now come and eat a bit, will yaa ?', said Verna, as Greta finished breast feeding her baby, sat him in his crib, and then joined the two at the table.
Some time later...
'So...Who wants a drink ?'.
'You still drink, mother ?' asked Neena.
'Of course I do, how else to kill time in your old age, huh ? Come on, I've left some wine that Gerst gave me.'.
'Gerst gave it to you ?' asked Greta.
'Yes, a few months ago. I haven't opened it yet.', she grabbed the bottle of wine from a black wooden chest beneath the window. 'Neena, get three tankards my dear.'.
'I won't drink.'. said Greta.
Verna scoffed. 'Just a sip. It won't do you any harm, wine is good for you.', responded Verna, while she poured into the tankards.
'Where did he get it from ?', asked Greta.
'It was meant as a gift. Were I to ask him that, it would've ruined what a gift's meaning is, my dear.'.
'It is quite good.', said Neena, taking a sip.
'Is what those shitty nobles from the continent drink, at their fancy balls and what else they do...', Verna replied, taking a sip herself.
Some time later, of which mostly consisted of a few stories Neena was told by the men courting her, peppered with couple of Verna's similar experiences during her youth. Then as she further emptied the bottle of wine gifted by Gerst, she resorted as always, to tell the tale of how she met their father. All the while both Neena and Greta laughed.
'What was that ?', asked Verna, as she stood up from the chair and walked towards the door. 'What...In the name of Freya ?!'.
'What is it ?', asked Neena, while Greta picked up her baby from the crib.
'Greta, take him and leave through the back door. Neena, you too.'.
'What is happening ?', asked Neena again.
'An Craite ! Cursed bastards, came to slaughter us all !', answered Verna, grabbing her husband's axe. 'You must go. Now !', she continued, while the sounds of axes clashing against shields, followed by grunts, gurgling and screaming, intensified.
'But-'.
'Not a word ! Leave now !'.
A man wearing an Craite colors kicked the door. He managed to put one foot across it, before being struck in the middle of the head by Verna, who was unable to take the axe out of the man's skull and kicked him out, literally. Then closed the door pushing a cabinet in front of it.
'The back door. Quickly !', said Verna, as she grabbed another axe from the chest beneath the window.
As Verna cracked open the back door she saw three man outside it, she signaled her daughters to wait. When she opened the door completely she ran towards the closest one, hitting him in the back of the head, and tried to hit the other one too.
'Fuckin' Drummond wench !', said the other man as he punched her in the stomach. While the other two only a few steps further heard and came to assist.
'Is he dead ?', asked one of those that just approached them.
'What do you think, idiot ?'.
'That he is ?', said one of them.
'Let's kill the whore...', said another.
Then, Verna punched the one holding her in the testicles, and managed to reach her axe, and threw it into the chest of the one that spoke earlier. At that moment Greta and Neena ran out of the hut, looking back at their mother who was beaten by the men, that were punching and kicking her. She stood down on her left side, with her face on the muddy road, clinching her eyes, looking at them as they ran out of the village. The men did not notice them escape as they were too occupied kicking and punching an old woman.
'We must go east, leave the island.', said Neena, as both were quickly fleeing the village. 'There is a fishing boat, I saw it a few hours ago.'.
'What if it is not there anymore ?'.
'It's there, trust me. It's Vorsh's boat. He doesn't use it so much.', responded Neena. 'Through here.'. she continued, as they took a shortcut trail to the boat, away from the main road.
Soon they came out of the small patch of woods and shrubbery covering the hill's side, which led down to the beach.
'There, I told you that it's still here. Come on.', said Neena. 'How is he ?'.
'Huh. He's asleep.', answered Greta, smiling.
'Really ?', said Neena, surprised. As they were both heading towards the boat. 'Get on...', resumed Neena.
'I'll help you push.', continued Greta, as she put her son in the boat.
'I can do it-'.
'Hey ! What are you two doing here, exactly ?', said a man approaching behind them, and he was not alone for two more came behind him. He was one of the men that attacked the keep and the village, an Craite. 'Step away from the boat will you ? Let's have a word.', he said while rubbing his hands, with a smirk on his face.
'Stay away !', said Neena.
'Pretty hard with you looking so good.', said the man. 'Roderik, look at her. Tasty isn't she ?', he continued, as the man called Roderik, grinned, showing his rotten teeth.
'Stay right where you are !', said Neena once again, as she took a knife she had on her belt, waving it around.
'Hah. She's got a knife Roderik ! Hah ! Careful not to cut yourself darling...', said the man laughing, looking at the man called Roderick on his left.
'I like her.', said Roderik, from between his black teeth.
'Hah ! I think he's in love !', said the man. While the one on the right smiled too.
'I-', said Neena.
'You what, huh ?', interrupted the man. 'I'll tell you what, you will just let me take some good care of you, while the other two will do the same to your friend...How does that sound ? Good, right ?', he said while he approached her.
'Don't touch me !', she yelled, while waving the knife and managed to cut the man around his hand.
'Oh, you fuckin' whore...', he said as he caught her hand and put his other one on her throat.
Neena dropped the knife as the man that caught her hand squeezed it until she did so.
Neena slapped him, and he bit her forearm, then with his left hand he held her both arms by her wrists.
'Listen, bitch ! I will fuck your every hole...', he said while he grabbed her jaw, and slowly licked her lips, and grabbed her lower lip between his. Then threw her to the ground, 'Roderik ! Hold her, she's a feisty one.'.
'I like her.', said Roderik smiling as he was holding her down.
'Tourst, take the other one.', said the man. 'Me and Roderick will take her. The other is more your type, right ?'.
'Yeah, whatever.', said Tourst, as he walked towards Greta.
'Run !', screamed Neena. 'Run !'. Greta turned around and tried to push the boat, but the man heading towards her shot her with his crossbow, right in the back. As Greta fell she grabbed the boat. Her son was on the edge, on the seat, she covered him with a blanket and moved her hand around his face, as she then pushed the boat away, right before Tourst grabbed her.
The boat went away, with her baby in it, the most important thing she had in the world. She watched as he was taken away from the shore, away from danger, the sea water carried him, to safety, as Greta's tears ran down her face and fell into the sea water, her baby, her child, was getting further from her, knowing that she will never see him again. Her child, her light.
Tourst held her down, as he began to mutter, while ripping her dress. Smiling and grunting, as he grabbed her breasts, kissing her naked shoulders. All the while he felt pleasure and she wished for death. She heard her sister screams, but couldn't do anything about it. She felt the blood dripping from her back, and pain began to crawl itself up her left shoulder.
Suddenly the moans from behind her stopped, and a sound of someone coughing and choking replaced it. The moment Tourst turned to see what just happened his head was severed by a sword. A man, which it seemed to be a witcher and behind him, a child. A young apprentice, who helped Neena, while the older witcher helped Greta. Who began to whisper, 'The boat...my baby...'. The old witcher heard her, and told the younger one to swim towards the boat, and bring it back to shore. As the apprentice swam towards the boat he carried both women away from the beach, inside a cave, not far from the place it all happened.
When the old witcher arrived inside the cave he placed both women on a bed, and covered them with blankets. Then, he took care of Greta's wound, from which she bled out quite an important amount of blood.
As both fell asleep, the witcher washed some bloody pieces of cloth near Greta's bed, as he needed them for Greta's wound.
Later, his apprentice returned, holding a baby in his arms, who was playing with a lock of his long black hair.
'He's not even a year old yet.', said the old witcher.
'He was lucky we heard all of that...', said the young apprentice.
'They all are.', continued the old one, looking towards the bed where Greta and Neena were.
'They're both still asleep.', murmured the young one.
'They are tired, and from what they got through, I won't condemn them if they don't want to wake up, ever again.', said the old witcher.
'What happened ? How could those men do that ?', asked the young apprentice.
'Those men or should I say animals, wore an Craite armor. Probably attacked the keep of Clan Drummond, as their's the closest...', responded the old witcher, as he went to a table further into the cave. 'I will brew some medicine for them.', said the old witcher, as his apprentice was looking at the baby, who had his little hands wrapped around his index finger.
'The death we offered them was too kind...', continued the young apprentice, while his master nodded his head.
The old witcher and his apprentice, had been able to intervene only because the young one had his training near the village. The cave where they took the sisters and the young child was a place where the Trail of Grasses was held and the old witcher was able to prepare the necessary medicine, at an alchemy table.
Both of them tried to save Greta, but she had lost to much blood and had her right lung pierced, which was filled with blood. She soon started coughing, even then, the old witcher tried to save her, as he managed to get some of the blood out from the lung. She only got to thank him for saving her son, as the old witcher promised to take care of her child, then she began to talk about her husband. That if he could, when the Jarl returns to look for him, and to tell Gerst about what happened. After, she told him about Neena for a bit, then she stopped and wished to see her son. The young apprentice brought him to her.
Greta, gave her last breath as she was holding her child.
When Neena woke up, the old witcher had left the cave. The apprentice said he went to look for some herbs, after which he told her about her sister. Neena started crying, as she looked at her nephew and walked towards him, taking him in her arms holding him to her chest as she was still sobbing, shivering, from the depth of her heart, while the child was sucking on his thumb, looking at the young apprentice, with his bright blue eyes, clueless of what was or will be.
Gerst did return. Five days later, only to find that his wife, her sister and her mother were dead, and so was his son. He fell on his knees when he received the news, staring at the ground, with his eyes largely open and mouth. As he later screamed, punching the ground, until his fists began to bleed, then looked at the sky, as two tears slid down his face.
When the boats arrived on the southern shore of Ard Skellig, the head of Clan an Craite, jarl Erlend an Craite the Stonefist, awaited Bjorn of Drummond. To explain that what just happened had nothing to do with him and that anyone else involved will be judged not by him but by the Drummond Clan, for he and his people will know the best punishment for them. Jarl Bjorn also demanded that the families that were affected will each receive a chest full with gold, and that Erlend's daughter has to leave the isles.
The daughter of Erlend an Craite had to leave the isles for the one that led the attack wanted to take the southern side of the island back, thinking that it will convince the jarl that he is the right one to take his daughter hand in marriage, for he gave Ard Skellig back to an Craite. A couple of years later she married a Cintrian noble and lived in the city of Cintra, often in the summer, she visited her husband sister, that resided near the town of Attre.
The jarl's wife was in the keep at the moment of the attack, after they finished with the village the attackers went towards the keep were Clan Brokvar stopped them, killing every last one of them, none escaped and none died an easy death.
From that moment Clan Drummond hated the an Craite, and as time passed more incidents occurred between the two, empowering Clan Drummond's hate.
Neena never went back to the village, instead, she went with her nephew to the keep of the School of the Bear. Where she took care of him, and assisted him through his training, even as he was undertaking the Trail of the Grasses.
She didn't tell him about what happened with his mother and father, or that she was his aunt, or his birth name until the moment of her death, many decades later. But, in the end he remained with the name he knew was truly his, Gerd of Skellige, a witcher from the School of the Bear.
Gerd's father, Gerst of Clan Drummond, died of old age, on the isle of Ard Skellige. He never married again and never knew that his son was the famous witcher. He lived the life of a fisherman and never joined the jarl on his raids ever again.