.VIII. Strangest Sights.

'Fuck...', cursed one of the men sitting at a table outside the Inn.

'What ?', replied the one sitting on his left.

'Is that the witcher's horse ?', asked another, sitting on the right.

'I think...', responded the one that spoke first.

'Well, it ate Aiona's herbs.', said the one on the left.

While the one on the right started to laugh.

'It almost ate my hat earlier. Crazy horse. Tried to get it back, it started neighing and got up on it's hind legs...', said the one on the left.

The laughing continued.

'When do you think he'll come back ?', asked the one on the right.

'Don't know, for he didn't mention...', responded the one in the middle. Owner of the town's stables. Scratching the back of his head. 'Why ?'.

'Think...It's a nice horse. We could sell it.', said the one on the right.

'I don't want to be the one who messes with him.', replied the stable owner.

'Didn't you say yesterday that you need some coin for the wedding of your niece ?', asked the one on the left.

'I did. But, I won't sell a witcher's horse, that's suicide...', responded the stable owner.

'He's not that dumb. We have guards here. He won't dare mess with them. I heard that they pretend that what they do is so dangerous, but in truth, anyone could do it. Ha ! I could kill a damn ghoul and so could you. We just pay him coin to get rid of something we can take care of ourselves...Ptooey.', spat the peasant on the right. Nasty, with a balding head, a patchy beard, thick black eyebrows and green eyes similar to a frog, a crooked nose and thin lips.

'How much do you think we can get for it...', whispered the stable owner to the one on the right, leaning towards him. While the one on the left, smiled.

'A few hundreds. It's a beautiful Skelligan mare.', responded the one on the right, standing up.

'Aren't they feral ?', asked the one on the left, then drank from his tankard.

'They are, but-', answered the one on the right.

'Then, how do you plan to take it to Novigrad and sell it when it is like...that.', replied the stable owner, as he looked at the horse which jumped a fence and went inside a small garden.

'Hm...We could put it to sleep. Maya knows a several herbs that might just do that.', replied the one on the right, satisfied with his plan so far.

Fate had it that Galodo's life will end at the blade of the witcher one day. But, fate knows what it knows. Gerd on the other hand, felt that there was something more to it than what meets the eye...

But he didn't get the chance to ask about anything because around five or six of Galodo's men arrived at the hideout. And obviously noticed the front door being well... 'missing'. They hurried to see what happened.

One remained behind on a hill, an archer, half-elf, to oversee the entrance. While the others advanced carefully towards the door. Two on each side.

Gerd at that moment stepped back from the couple and stopped in front of the door. Being noticed by the archer who gave a signal to the ones heading to the entrance that he saw something and that he will shoot.

The witcher heard the steps of the men approaching, one of them was nervous, Gerd heard his heavy breath first. Then the archer shot one of his arrows, that passed across Gerd's face, stopping in the bookshelves. After that not a second later, the ones approaching the door quickened their steps, and just as the first entered, Gerd used his Aard sign and pushed him out. He managed to make a step toward Galodo and Lona, before three more entered.

'Tsk. Damnit...', murmured Gerd as the three men attacked him, while Lona and Galodo escaped from the cave...

Gerd killed the men fast and stepped out of the cave, watching as Galodo was disappearing beyond the hump of the hill. He saw the archer run in the opposite direction, then called his mare and followed them on a narrow path that led uphill through a sparse forest, then after a bit it descended into an opening as further down everything turned into sand.

From the top of that hill. Gerd saw a Zerrikanian camp, laying at the foothills, flying their red linen banners that had on them a black dragon figure, that was stretching it's wings from one side to the other. The camp contained a dozen or so tents made of red cloth.

A quite large settlement, that seemed armed to the teeth, probably with long sabers, bows, lances and long axes. Trying to infiltrate would result in a unavoidable death, even for a witcher.

Gerd could take on many foes at once, but not that many. For the number of those in the camp was above fifty, even if Zerrikanians don't wear chest plates and gauntlets or steel plated trousers or any kind of footwear sometimes, except for sandals. They are masters with a sword in hand or a simple bow with one arrow in their quiver. Usually their most dominant gender is female, known to be the most respected and of the highest influence, those are also their most feared warriors.

They are customarily wearing a piece of yellow, orange or red cloth, around their neck and shoulders, longer on one side than the other. Sometimes wearing it around their heads, as a veil or a hood. Some wore pelts of exotic animals like cheetahs, panthers or lions, those are known to be important figures, alike politicians, respected warriors and hunters. The warriors, as they were commonly females, wore leather straps that came down from their shoulders around their chest with sometimes cloth of red or orange color, as lower would wear an ornamented belt that would hold another garment made of cloth that would be at least knee-length, and lower just the sandals made from leather. Some were walking even on the battlefield barefoot. The warriors or hunters wore their hair tied in a ponytail or a loop of hair or had it shaved. They also had face paint, near the eyes, the temples of the head, forehead or cheeks. Most of them had tattoos around their hands, legs, some all over their bodies even faces. They carried their weapons on their back, sometimes having at least two knives or poisoned darts and a pipe on the back of their leather belt. The men wore nothing on the top part of their bodies beside a hood, and a leather strap that held the weapons on their back, usually a shield, axe or a lance. Lower a yellow kilt as the women, knee-length and most of them were shoeless.

Whatever they were doing this close to the Blue Mountains, it had to be something that involved Galodo. They rarely came this close to the northern kingdoms in the known written history, maybe it was some lord from those lands that had this business with Galodo. It was perhaps payment day for the mercenary, or something else. Whatever it was, Gerd had no way of finding out very soon.

Gerd made camp at the top of the hill, from where he could observe the Zerrikanian camp. The weather on this side of the Blue Mountains, respectively this south became a problem for his ursine armor, that he took off, leaving on only his trousers and boots. The time he watched the camp he noticed only that Galodo had been taken to a tent in the middle of the camp and since then he saw not one man go back or get out of that tent. The only thing he saw were buffed tattooed women that walked around the camp, besides that nothing else told him anything interesting, as he sat on a rock looking down hill, with a canteen containing water that he drank from.

While he was spying on the camp, he heard foot steps from behind. He quickly turned, only to see a woman, patting his mare on the neck, then placed her palm on it's muzzle.

When he got up, she quickly reached for her knife. Gerd's swords were near the horse's saddle, so he had no weapon. He lifted his arms showing his hands, taking a couple of steps back, as he knew that if she wanted to attack, she would've by now.

'Maethann ?', she said, while pointing at Gerd's medallion.

Gerd did not react nor said anything back, she then placed her index finger to her chin, thinking of something.

'How do you say it... B-E-A-R... Bear ?', she resumed, 'Your medallion...'.

He blinked, clearing his throat. 'Ahem. Yes. Bear...', answered Gerd, confused of what were her intentions.

'I just saw you watching the camp. So, I thought to...visit ? Yes, visit you.'.

'Why ?', asked Gerd, slowly lowering his hands.

'I was curious.', she answered, still holding the handle of her knife.

'Mhm...', Gerd murmured.

'We don't see someone of your kind everyday.', she said, measuring Gerd, head to toe.

'How so ?'.

'You are a witcher. There aren't many of you in these parts.'.

'I am.', answered Gerd, while she let go of the knife's handle.

'When I first saw you from afar I thought you were a bandit. Or who knows what else, but when I came closer I noticed your medallion. And your mare...she's so beautiful. You take good care of her from what I see.', she continued, placing her hand on it's muzzle again. 'Does she have a name ?'.

'No.'

'Shame, but she's still young, so you could still give her one...', she said, while placing her both hands above the mare's muzzle, touching it's forehead to hers.

'What is your name ? Mine is Tara.', she said, taking a few steps towards him.

'Gerd.'.

'What do you actually spy, Gerd ?'.

'A man and a woman were brought to your camp recently...'.

'The mús ?', she asked, approaching.

'The what ?',

'Tsk. Mouse, I think...'

'That's what you call him ?',

'Most of the time. Mostly our chief...'

'The middle tent ?', Gerd asked.

'Hmm...yes. You don't plan something like getting in there do you ?'.

'Not that stupid.'.

'Thought so.', she responded, placing her hands on her belt.

'How is it that you know the northern realms tongue ?'.

'Had a professor in the town I grew up. He taught it to me when I was little. He gave me books and maps that I read...'

'He's dead now ?', Gerd asked, while the woman nodded. 'Was his name Walt Von Svarnst ?'.

'Yes. You knew him ?'.

'A bit...'

She was quite charming, beautiful, a warm brown skin, dark haired, with chestnut colored eyes. Next to her right one on her cheek a bit to the right she had a beauty spot. A feminine narrow nose dropping straight down from her forehead. Lower a square jaw and a pair of beautiful, opulent lips. She was quite tall, fit. As her abdomen muscles were very well defined, like the rest of her body. Thin, but defined. Wearing a dark-red piece of cloth that covered her chest, an ornamented belt that sat around her hips with a knife on its left side and another piece of red cloth, knees long, and she wore leather sandals.

Gerd then sat down on his rock, looking at the camp.

'You know that man ?', she asked, while she sat next to Gerd.

'You could say that...'.

'What do you want with him ?'.

'I want him dead.', responded Gerd, as the zerrikanian woman, looked at him for a bit then looked back at the camp.

'You won't kill him very soon then. He is to go to our village, to be sentenced.'.

'You are here to escort him ?'.

'More like assure his presence...'.

'So, he has to go.'.

'He does. Or his fate will be decapitation, without a trial. And he still has to pay his debt.'.

'What debt ?'.

'He needed help some time ago. And he received help, as he promised he is good to repay it in full...', she said, then turned to Gerd. 'What is your plan ?'.

'To follow.'.

'Hah. Follow us to Zerrikania ? Are you mad ? Do you need him dead so bad ?'.

'I do. I took a contract on his head and I have in mind to finish it.'.

'I have to appreciate your commitment. Still, I don't think it is a good plan following us, when there is a better way.'.

'Which is ?'.

'You could join us.'.

'Meaning ?'

'I help you, you help me. Get it ?

'I do. What do you need help with ?'.

'Nothing, for now. You'll know when. It will allow you to enter the camp. And once the debt is paid, you can kill The Mouse.'.

Gerd did not know what to say, for he did not know her true intention. Was it kindness or deception. Whatever it was, it gave him access to the camp and a safe passage to Zerrikania. He was grateful he found someone that spoke his tongue. A lot more then he had before she appeared.

'Why would you help me ?', he asked.

'Why not ? You seem to want him dead as much as me.'.

'Why would you want him dead ?'.

'As I said previously, he has this debt...', she said standing up, watching the camp's middle tent. 'He paid most of it, but grew restless when he realized he couldn't pay it full. He made a mistake that implied taking something that wasn't his. And through all that, innocent lives had been taken. Somehow he managed to escape us then, and to this day his debt is still unpaid. Making matters worse, several people east of here want him punished for his deeds. Now he will face the consequences of his actions...'. She tensed her jaw, then turned to Gerd. 'Now, come. Let's go to the camp, you'll have to meet the chief. She's...nice.'.

'That bad ?'.

'Not all the time, she's just moody nowadays.'.

Gerd and his new friend Tara, had made a deal that gave the witcher a way to be close to his target, Galodo Frock. And when the time comes he would have to pay the debt he owes to her.

Gerd took his belongings and went to saddle his horse, while Tara awaited him.

'What were you talking about ?', said Gerd walking out of the Inn, introducing himself into the discussion the three peasants had.

'Look who's back.', said the man standing on the right with a ridiculing tone. 'The coin grabber. Did you do your precious trade, witcher ?'.

'As a matter of fact, yes. I did.', Gerd answered approaching the table.

'Hah ! Where's your proof then ?', asked the peasant, having a dumb expression on his face.

'Here.', responded Gerd, as he threw a bag on the table. From which the heads of two ghouls slid out, in front of the peasants.

The other two peasants jump from their seats, while the one on the right took a few steps back.

'I- see. Who's this ?', the peasant on the right resumed.

'Gerard. The witcher saved me from these beasts...', responded the man, that walked out of the Inn a few moments ago and stopped on the witcher's left side.

'Sure he did.', scoffed the peasant. 'You're going to get your coin, I presume.'.

'I think so. Yes. Is there a problem ?', asked Gerd, taking two steps towards the peasant.

'Yes- You cunt ! I say you don't need the coin or your horse anymore.', the peasant lashed out.

'Is that so ?'.

'Y- Yes ! You fuckin' freak ! Now, leave the village and never return ! Or I-'.

'You, what ?', interrupted Gerd, adopting a grave tone.

'Lars, I don't think-', spoke the man left of the stable owner.

'Shut it Shev ! it is time their kind fuck off from this land.'.

'You plan to do that yourself ?', added Gerd.

'What !? Surprised ? You heard me, I-'

'You, won't do anything !', grunted Gerd, staring at Lars. Who's face frowned, while his right hand wrapped as quick as he could around the knife he held on his belt. With which he attempted to stab Gerd in the neck. His arm suddenly stopped right before puncturing the neck, the tip pressing on the witcher's beard. Caught by the witcher, Lars pushed as much as he could, but his hand didn't move any further. He sighed. 'As I said. Nothing...', continued Gerd. As he grabbed and twisted the man's arm, making it click and crack, as the peasant screamed, dropping the knife. Then Gerd's right hand clutched around Lars's neck, lifting him up, then thrown him into a few crates near the door of the Inn. He then took his hunting knife, and pointed the blade on the peasant's neck. 'Now. I could kill you, right now. But then, I might have to butcher the whole village afterwards.', Lars frog alike eyes, quickly locked on two armed men, which came to see what had happened. But as soon as they saw the witcher, they stopped and leaned on the other side of the fence. Without any intention to intervene. 'As it seems, none will bother raising a finger to help you. For, none of them are idiots. But, you are. I'd wager they don't care if you live or die. As not even one of them give a shit about a good-of-nothing-drunken-fool like you. I could just slit your throat right here and I'd be doing them a favor. But, the death of a halfwit such as you, doesn't require a witcher's hand in it. Folk usually hang thieves alike you.'. Blood started to slid down the peasant's neck, followed by the smell of piss. Gerd then moved the knife's blade away from Lars's neck, driving it in his leg. 'But. I hope you learned something important today.', said Gerd, taking the knife out of Lars's leg. Wiping the blade on the man's shirt.

He then walked to the table, where he put the heads of the ghouls back in the bag, and looked at the other two peasants.

'You two want to join him ?', Gerd asked, while the man named Shev, moved his head in disagreement. 'Now. This man needs a horse. You'll bring him one. For free.', continued Gerd, looking at the stable owner.

'Right away, master.', said the stable owner, then hurried to the stables to get Gerard his horse.

Afterwards, he addressed his friend. 'Wait here while I go take my coin.'.

'Alright.', replied Gerard, waiting for the stable owner to bring him a horse.

Gerd walked to a hut not far from the stables, where a man called Ian lived. He was the one that posted a notice about a ghoul problem in the forest near the main road. Gerd found there a ghoul nest, and killed around a dozen of them. Ian, the one that posted the contract didn't tell him how many of them would be, though he knew that they were many. Gerd noticed that he was lying about something when he took the contract. Thus, now he will go and ask for more coin, for what the contract had, was fifty-four crowns.

'Ian.', said Gerd as he entered the door of the man's hut.

'You killed them ?', the man responded, as he quickly stepped in the main chamber, from a room where his wife and children were.

'I did. All twenty-four of them...', the witcher snarled, throwing the bag containing the ghoul's heads to the peasant's feet.

The man moved his eyes away from the witcher's. Looking at the bag Gerd had thrown in front of him.

'I-'.

'You said they were not many...'.

'But-'

'No.', Gerd interrupted, approaching Ian. 'You knew how many. Didn't you ?'.

'I-'

'You did.', grunted the witcher.

'I did...'.

'Good. Now you pay me, eighty crowns.'.

'But-'.

'What did I say ?'.

'I have children. I-I need to clothe them. To feed them. Master, you must understand-'.

'No.', the witcher grunted. 'I don't want to understand. For what I want, is my payment. You haven't told me that there would be a dozen of them. I could've leave them be. So that, tomorrow, or the day after, most of them would've gotten here. And tear the whole lot of you, and your children to pieces. But, I didn't. I did what my kind are supposed to do. So, pay up.'.

'Alright, alright...', responded the man, taking a handful of coins from a pouch he took out of a cupboard. 'Here...'.

'Good. Farewell.', Gerd said, while taking the pouch from the peasant's hand.

Gerd, got out of Ian's hut, and went back to the stables. Were he grabbed the saddle and put it on his horse, then resumed his way to Novigrad, accompanied by Gerard. Where he had to find a ship bound for the Isles of Skellige.