.XXII. The Bear: .IV. Fire and Blood.

The dimming golden rays of the sun were strong enough to shed light on his thoughts. While it's fading warmth caressed his entire body...

The croaking of the seagulls and the waves of the sea crashing into the rocky shore, were not only a fitting song, but felt awfully right for a way to say goodbye. He hardly found any words, even though he sat there for some good chunk of time, and just stared at the horizon, where the sky and sea unite.

He knew words were worthless when there was not a soul to hear them.

He couldn't think of anything else but the remaining taste of metal in his mouth and the scent of smoke. As his tired eyes, saw only flames...

On the muddy road, filled with puddles and muck that you could sink in, a wagon was making it's way to the closest town, Lothorn. Located beneath The Amell mountains, on Marnadal's Stairs, at the top of a great hill.

The two auburn horses were snorting while they pulled the wooden, roofed wagon uphill.

'It's here alright. The damned cold and cursed rain...', spoke the carriage driver.

'Quit whining...', said the man sitting down, in the back side of the carriage. 'It's not that bad.'.

The driver clicked his tongue. 'I don't know. But, we better find a fitting place to stop. The road just got from bad to worse. And with all this rain water flowing downhill...'. He lifted himself up to look ahead. 'Then, there are the horses. They need to rest. They are both exhausted, this road conditions are brutal to them. We must stop. What do you say ? We'll continue in the morning, if, it doesn't rain till then...', the driver said as he sat back down, then turned his head. 'Gerd ?'.

'Fine, but I don't think we can continue on this road tomorrow.'.

'If so, what then ?'.

'We leave the wagon, and take the horses...'.

'If it doesn't rain, right ?'.

'I doubt it won't...'.

The driver sighed. 'Something had to go bad, huh ?'.

'Take us off the road, Yve. We'll let the horses rest, and hope that the rain stops so that we can advance tomorrow...'.

'This looks like a good place to camp.', added Yve, steering the wagon off the road in a clearing among the woods.

'I'll take care of the horses.', said Gerd, getting out of the wagon, as soon as it stopped.

'Good.', the halfling replied, going in the backside of the wagon.

While, Gerd took the horses from the front to the left side of the carriage, under an extendable canvas roof. Where he placed some hay and water.

'We're lucky you went hunting yesterday...', said the halfling from within the wagon. 'And we still have some vodka left.'.

'I doubt I would've found anything edible or not rotten, in this weather.'.

'We are doing good.'.

'I guess...', replied Gerd from outside.

'I mean we're good, not perfect. But good. Decent. Alive...', said the halfling, unrolling a sheet of canvas on a small table, just as Gerd joined him inside the wagon. Placing on it, bread, salted meat, tomatoes, bacon, a slice of cheese, and remains of the rabbits Gerd had caught the day before.

Gerd snorted.

'What ? We have a lead. A good one. Trust me, Gerd. This man will have the information we need to find that sack-of-shit, named Gael...'.

'If this man's still breathing, you mean. You heard what that group of peasants said back at the inn. Regarding, their plans to storm the fort and kill the baron and the other pricks living within ?'.

Yve scoffed. 'You believed that horseshit ?'.

'I've seen such horseshit, before. And it happened to a witcher keep.'.

'You jest, right ?', asked Yve, starting to show a slight bit of concern.

'I do not. They got themselves all killed, alright...But, they managed to get in. And if I am to believe that horseshit, that fort's walls didn't sound as strong as they once have been.'.

'Shit. I swear we had a rather fucked up side of this damned thing that is called luck ! Didn't we ?'.

'We sure did.', replied Gerd. 'Just stick to the plan.'.

Yve nodded, biting from a slice of bread. 'How are you ? Didn't talk much since the Inn. What's bothering you ?'.

'Uh, nothing.'.

'Huh...'.

'What ?'.

'I, remember Vera saying that you don't like when I ask such questions. Sorry, I have a curious nature.'.

'Your kind usually does...'.

Yve clicked his tongue, opening the bottle of vodka. 'I shouldn't have brought her up, I apologize.'.

'It's fine.'.

Yve drank from the bottle, then, passed it to Gerd.

'She talked a few times of you. I for one haven't seen you in a while, and as I've been traveling with her for more than a year...I'd wager she didn't either, isn't it ?'.

Gerd took a sip, then placed the bottle on the table. 'Vera and I haven't seen each other since the last time she came to Skellige. So, almost two years.'.

'I knew you two weren't a piece, but, you did have something going on, for a while at least. I did notice.'.

'I don't think we did...'.

'Surely, you don't mean that.', replied Yve, taking a chug from the bottle.

'I'm pretty sure I do. I wasn't surprised when I heard she died. I expected that her way of going about the place would lead to this, at some point...'.

Yve sighed. 'Well, she never was fond of the idea to settle down somewhere...'.

'Huh...', mumbled Gerd.

'Gael will pay for it. For everything he did. For wrecking my house, my shop and my wagon. Everything...', said Yve, biting from a piece of bacon.

'I don't know...', added Gerd.

'What do you not know ? He killed Vera. He burned her alive, Gerd. He-'.

'No. All your little scheming and plans got her killed. It is the result of all your actions this far. And this time neither of you got out unscathed. You two never knew when enough was enough. I am here to help you get back whatever you have left in Neunreuth. I am not here for vengeance. And I won't kill Gael unless I must.', interrupted Gerd.

Yve, didn't respond nor was able to look in the eyes of the witcher. He feared what he would see in them if he did. He barely swallowed the bacon he chewed on as he stared at the table. He knew this would be the last time, he and Gerd would ever get to have any kind of conversation. For once he's able to resume his business in Neunreuth, he won't get to see the witcher again. Gerd's previous words had been kind, truthful and harsh at the same time as he showed as always, clarity. And above all, Gerd was right, this were the consequences, he and Vera had to face at some point...

The winter's early and sudden appearance had brought colder weather and a nasty fog that covered the lands till noon.

Outside the wooden gates of a decent town named Forgeham, in the southern lands of Metinna, a horse at gallop passed like an arrow the wagon of a merchant. Almost making the driver steer off the road, into the bushes. The rider of the mount, was barely standing in the saddle. His left hand pressed against his lower right side of the abdomen, while blood flew down his leg, on the stirrup, or on the saddle then down the horse's belly. His face swollen and bruised and his nose broken.

'Stop !', yelled a man guarding the gate. 'Who did that to you ?'.

'I'm to-deliver a message-', said the man, coughing, then spat blood. 'A woman-Vera-', continued the rider, leaning towards the man, then fell from the saddle. 'Take-it. Here-', said the man, pulling a scroll from his satchel.

'I'll get you help-'. said the guard as he took the scroll.

'No ! It- to late for that. Give- her the message. Quickly. Also- send someone to the Commander, tell him to ask about the- Succubus-'.

'But-'.

'Do as I said, boy ! Go on- Fuckin' go !'.

'Alright sir.', replied the guard, while the man dragged himself near a post on which he leaned, coughing. He stood there for a while, looking out towards the fields and the forest beyond them. Mumbling and moaning, as he was looking at his bleeding wound. 'Oh, fuck...', murmured the man. 'Here girl. Come here...', he continued, whistling to his mare. He struggled to reach for it at first, but after many tries he succeeded. As from the saddle he pulled a crossbow, and two arrows.

On the main road, another rider was approaching at gallop. With two swords on his back, and as he came closer to the gates he unsheathed one. While the message carrier, aimed and fired an arrow, towards the other rider. Who, slid left from the saddle and behind his horse, reappearing from the right side, while the shooter reloaded his crossbow. From where the witcher threw a rock, knocking the crossbow out of the man's hand.

Then, the witcher approached the dying man. 'I would have aimed for the horse's front legs...', then with a smug look on his face, continued. 'You were almost there. Huh, well done getting this far. I just kept hoping to see your corpse in a ditch on the side of the road.', he said, walking past the messenger. 'But, let's both agree that you completed your mission.'.

In front of a hut at the edge of town, the guard who was instructed to deliver the message, reached the door which was wide open, so he entered, with his right hand on the sword's handle.

'Who're you ? And what do you want ?', asked Vera, sneaking behind the man, poking a knife in his back.

'A-message. Here-', said the guard, handing her the scroll.

She took the scroll, shoving the man inside and closed the door. Her face frowned, while she read the message. 'Fuck. The man that gave you this, is he dead ?'.

'Uh...I do not know. But, he was injured-', replied the young guard.

'What about the man that gave him these injuries ?'.

'I've seen no one else but him. He must've fled, or escape that man.'.

'I doubt it.', she replied, taking her sword.

'If so...I want to help. I can help you leave town.', added the guard, pushing his chest out, adopting a straight pose, resting his hand on the sword's pommel.

'You do ?', she asked looking the young man in the eyes, moving a few locks of scarlet hair behind her right ear. While her lips curved in a hypnotizing way, slowly and elegantly, leaving them parted at the end of the sentence, while her eyes remained fixed on his.

'I do.', he answered.

'Good.'.

On the opposite side of town, near the western gate. Gael, made a slow, but steady progress towards his gold, before three guards with their swords in hand appeared and stopped him.

'Not one more step ! Mutant...', spoke the one in the middle. 'Turn 'round and walk out. Or, we'll throw your corpse out ! You choose...'.

The witcher took a deep breath as he walked towards the guards.

'A corpse it is then. Get him boys !'.

Two more guards appeared from the right and left side of the main road running through the town, moving behind the witcher, who was now surrounded. Two of them attacked, one from behind and the other from the front. Gael avoided the blade of one that came from behind as he moved right, then blocked the other. Knocking the first to attack in the face with his elbow, who made a few steps back, while hitting the side of the other's knee and breaking it. Then with a diagonal strike, he slashed the man's neck, swiftly stabbing the one behind after.

'Can you afford to lose more men ? Captain ? These two were quite ripe. Be the wiser one, and don't let the others have the same fate. I'm looking for a woman. Scarlet haired, named Vera. Must have come into town a couple of days ago. Know about her ?'.

The captain said nothing. Nor did he move, or look as if he wanted to.

'There will be no more blood spilled. I just want to know where she stays.', added Gael.

'Fine.', responded the captain, compressing his lips. 'Sheath your swords, men.', he continued looking at his subordinates. 'She's in a hut on the other side of town. I'll show you.'.

'Lead the way, captain.', replied the witcher, sheathing his steel sword.

They led the witcher to the hut, but as he already began to suspect on his way there. Strengthened by the sight of the hut, which was empty and the door wide open.

'I'm a fool.', Gael whispered. 'I'm a fool.', he said once again and this time he raised his voice. 'I should've known better.', he continued, unsheathing his sword. From behind the huts near the road, from all sides, at least a dozen men belonging to the town's guard surrounded him.

From within the hut, a man walked out. Dressed in a green and white breast plate, with the symbol of a crescent moon on his shoulders. He was the Commander of the town's guards.

'Drop your sword. and you'll die by the gallows. If you do not comply, you'll die here and now, painfully. You killed two of my men. Good men. Young...', said the commander, taking a few steps towards the witcher, then stopped, clutching his fingers around his sword's handle. 'And beyond that, you are responsible for the death of a good friend of mine.'.

'Is this what you want ? Death ? Then so be it. I will offer you and your men, death.', Gael said, with a grunt as he popped opened a flask, and drank it all. He placed both of his hands on the sword, and took a wide stance.

'You won't get out of this town. Not alive at least. That I swear to the gods.', replied the commander, unsheathing his sword. 'Get rid of him !'.

…

'Where are you going ?', asked the guard.

'Curious ?', Vera responded, while saddling her horse. 'For one, as far as I can from here, then, I don't know...', she continued taking the reins of her horse, leading it out of the stables.

'The man that had your friend hurt, is he coming after you as well ?', asked the guard, following behind her.

'Yes, he is.'.

'If he finds you...Will he hurt you as well ?'.

'What do you think ?', replied Vera climbing in the saddle.

The guard didn't answer. He just watched as she walked to the edge of the alley, almost reaching the main road. Then, he ran towards the end of the alley, looking down the main road, from where, accompanied by the rising wind, came a screech of swords followed by a deep groan and a thud.

The previous muddy, puddled road, has turned red now. With a dozen of corpses scattered on it, some still gurgling and choking on their own blood.

'The gods will see-that you are punished-', grunted the Commander, grabbing the witcher's sword, staring him in the eyes.

'Your gods are fake, old man.', replied Gael, pulling his sword out of the commander's chest.

While within the alley...

'Is that him ?', asked the guard, taking a few steps back towards the woman.

Vera gave the reins to the guard, getting off the saddle, and walked to the corner of the hut, to take a look.

'There is no other way out of this alley...', added the guard, grabbing the handle of his sword.

'Are you mad ? You'd rather die ?.'.

'I can distract him-'.

'No.', she answered jumping back in the saddle.

'I can't leave you to be killed. I said I can get you out. I plan to keep my promise. Also, I have an idea.'.

Gael advanced up the main road, with the belief that the woman had escaped not long before he arrived. While he took a few more steps, from an alley, he heard the neighing of a horse, and soon around ten of them ran out on the main road. Among them, he saw two riders, who turned left accelerating at gallop speed.

Atop the tallest hill of Marnadal's Stairs, sat the town of Lothorn. Home to merchants, pig and sheep farmers, dwarves practicing as blacksmiths and armorsmiths, elves, half-elves, poor and rich folk, in numbers of at least a hundred men, children and women. Built around the fortified castle of a renown family of noble origins, the Yrnwhold's. Once a household that wed their children into royal families, now, according to the local rumors and tales spread by folk, a forgotten bunch of dimwits and cutthroats, led by a self-named Baron of the Silvery Hill, famed a few generations ago for it's vast source of silver and gold ores. Nowadays, a barren heap of dirt, that was sucked dry of it's precious minerals, only frequented by drunken men for it's famed houses of pleasure, rumored to host the most beautiful, talented and exotic whores, one could find north of the Yelena till' the southern shores of the Yaruga.

Which became recently, a rather tame battlefield between the locals and the remaining descendants of the Yrnwhold family.

Surrounded by a lush forest it was almost hidden from the rest of the world. Almost...

'We're in luck ! Gerd, my friend.', spoke Yve. 'Behold ! The twin towers of Lothorn's castle.'.

'Enjoy them while you can. We won't have time while in town.', replied Gerd, moving towards the front of the wagon.

Soon, the western entrance of the town appeared from beyond the trees. And so did the smoke and rubble of a couple of huts, that had been torched during the night.

'That is-'.

'Quiet.', said Gerd, listening.

Ahead, in the middle of the road, two elves appeared from within the woods.

'Gerd ?', asked Yve nervous, nudging the witcher.

'Stop that wagon, friend.', spoke one of them. Dark haired, tall and slim, holding a sabre, while the other next to him a bow.

'Gerd ?', Yve asked again, as he pulled on the rains.

'There are a couple more in the woods.', whispered Gerd, while the elf that stopped the wagon, approached.

'What brings you this way ?'.

'Trade.', responded Yve.

'Is that so ?', asked the elf, approaching them. 'What kind of trade ?'.

'Of all kinds. Mostly Alchemy, Herbalism, and trinkets peddling.'.

'What of the mutant ?', asked the elf, staring at Gerd.

'He's a friend.'.

'A friend, eh ?', the elf replied. 'Get out of the wagon, halfling. Don't try anything mutant, if you don't want him to sink an arrow through your skull.'. He looked at the two, mostly at Gerd, as he assumed, he could cause more damage then the halfling. 'Watch the cat-eyed one. See that he doesn't try anything. If he moves, he dies.'. He stopped on the left side near the horses, petting one's belly.

The archer nodded, then with a smile, he set his green eyes upon the monster slayer, ready to fire.

'Who are you actually working for ? Midget...'.

'No one. I'm here to trade my wares.'.

'You seem to be in short supply if my eyes serve me right.', the elf said, while looking inside the wagon.

'It's been a luckless end of the year thus far. With the plague up north...', answered Yve, looking nervous.

Nervousness that the elf picked on, and didn't seem to let it pass. 'We saw you coming from the south. We have seen you since you reached these woods back south. We've been watching you since then. Last time. Who are you working for ?'.

'I tell you the truth. No one.'.

The elf's eyes squinted, and looked within the woods for a moment, then he fixed his eyes on them once again. 'Bind them !'.

From the woods behind them, two elves stepped onto the road, holding their bows high ready to let go of the string, would one of them make a slight move.

'We're looking for Ser Almar of Sodden.', said Gerd.

'Really ? And what could the likes of you have to do with a famed knight such as he ?', asked the elf.

'Information.'.

'Are you sure-', whispered Yve, before being interrupted by the long stare given by the elf.

'Eael ! You pointy-eared son of a wench ! Bugger off, and leave them be !', yelled an auburn bearded dwarf. Wearing a chain mail and holding a mace, as he appeared from behind a burnt hut, accompanied by a human and two other dwarves. 'Fuck off back into your damned woods before I'll break you like a twig ! I'll take em' from here on.'.

'But-'.

'No buts elf ! Fuck off !'.

'Fine, you half-witted brute...', replied the elf, before he turned and walked on the side of the road.

'What ?!', the dwarf replied yelling, tightening the hold on the mace he held.

'Nothing.', answered the elf, as his men walked off the road, and disappeared into the thick woods.

'Thought as much !', the dwarf said, looking at Eael, having a short laugh. 'I apologize for my friend's cold and improper welcome. After all, he's a damned elf. A prickly one at that !'.

'It's alright.', replied Yve.

'Now, allow me to give you a proper welcome.', allowing Yve and Gerd to get back in the wagon. As he did after, followed by his men, who hanged on the backside of the wagon. As Eael watched them enter the town.

'I heard a few rumors. How bad is it ?', asked Gerd.

The dwarf gave a slight laugh, then turned to the witcher. 'Not as bad as you think. But bad nonetheless. That prick hides in his damned castle. Behind his Iron Gates, believing he is safe. A fuckin' coward like his idiot father and his grandfather before him. But, none have been this hateful, greedy or felt so lordly and royally. If his coward of a father was a fool and as nasty as a goat, the son is better described as fuckin' mad and delusional. His stupid father listened to common sense and had at least one foot in the muck, but this lunatic wants to bring back the old fame his family name once had. By once I mean three hundred years ago...'.

'Who burned the huts ?', asked Yve, as they went past them.

'Those cowards that hide beyond their bloody walls. Damned duvvelsheyss...', responded the dwarf, pointing towards the towers of the castle, then spat. 'Soon enough, that self-entitled prick and his whore of a sister will have their heads mounted on a spike atop their fancy burning towers ! Anyhow, I am Darqen Daron.', the dwarf continued scratching his beard.

'Yve Malterbach and Gerd of Skellige.', replied Yve.

'I heard of you, witcher. You've been to Mahakam a few good years ago. Heard you've made many friends that day.', Draqen said, having a good laugh. 'Ah ! Don't worry, pal. Most lay dead by now.'.

Though very intrigued by Draqen's mention of Gerd's ventures in Mahakam, Yve had enough sense to not ask about it. 'Why did you come to our aid, Draqen ?'.

'Why ? Cause I fuckin hate that bastard to his guts and that band of cunts that follow him ! He suspected you work for that coward, Ermond. I told him to leave you be, obviously, he didn't listen. So, what do you want with the drunken knight ?'.

'Information.', answered Yve.

'He's been surely spewing heaps of information all over the whores at The Naughty Sirens by now. I doubt he knows something more than those girls already do. He's been there since he arrived in town, two full-moons ago. Fuckin' and drinkin' ever since.'.

The dwarf drove the wagon through the town, taking a right turn, on a street were they went past a few brothels and Inns, then left, going closer to the castle. Where, in front of an Inn and shop, he stopped. 'Here we are.', said the dwarf stepping off the wagon, followed by Yve. 'I guessed you needed rooms, so I brought you to my cousin's Inn. He'll take care of you. Rorin !', he yelled. 'From here, west where we took a left if you go further and then take a left, you'll find The Naughty Sirens.', then looked inside the shop and yelled again. 'Rorin !'.

'Stop screaming you fool !', responded another dwarf, as he walked out of the shop. 'What ?!'.

'I brought you clients.', replied Darquen.

'I'll go get our rooms.', said Yve, joining the dwarf, while Gerd would have to take the horses to a stable, and find a place to leave the wagon.

The guard and Vera rode away from Forgeham for almost half a day now.

Close to sunset, the guard, mentioned an abandoned hut, among the woods, not very far from the road. They both decided to stop and rest, confident that the witcher lost their tracks.

'I'll stand guard.', said the man stopping in front of the door, as Vera entered the hut.

'Don't be foolish. Get in. It's cold.', replied Vera.

'Fine.'.

'What's your name ?', asked Vera, lighting a few candles.

'Bowen.'.

'How did you know of this hut, Bowen ?'.

'A hunter used to live here. He died last summer. My father knew him.', he replied looking around. 'There's no wood. I'll go check the shed. I should feed the horses as well.'.

'Alright.', Vera said, as she took off her sword and placed it on a table near the door.

He returned with plenty of wood, and made the fire, then left again to feed the horses.

When he finished everything he had to do, he placed a couple of pelts on the floor and sat near the fireplace, throwing from time to time some wood on it.

'Bowen...'.

'Yes ?', he replied turning.

She appeared from behind a thin wall that separated the kitchen from the bedroom.

'Have you been with a woman before ?', she asked, covered by a blanket she let slide down her shoulders, revealing her breasts.

His mouth slightly opened, as his breath increased, and murmured. 'O-o-once...'.

'Then you know what to do.', she said, approaching him. Allowing the blanket to fall on the floor. She took his left hand and placed it on her right breast, while she placed his other one on her left hip. Unbuttoning his pants, and gambeson. Kissing his neck, and chin, followed by his lower lip, that she took between hers. She slowly laid him on the pelts in front of the fire, sitting on top of him, kissing him while her other hand was playing with his growth, until he began to tremble. Then the moans began, and the shadows casted on the floors and walls of the hut displayed a dance, of lust and pleasure. Her back arched as she moved her hips in a elegant fashion. Making Bowen raise his back from the floor, planting his face between her breasts, sucking on her nipples, while his right hand moved downwards to her hip and lower, clenching his fingers around her flesh. And after all had reached the most intense point of their current activity, both shortly fell asleep. Cuddling, in front of the crackling fire.

The roar of the flames began to increase, waking Bowen, who woke Vera, as beyond the thin wall, the bedroom was in flames. They both raised from the floor and Bowen walked towards the door. When he opened it, his face was burned by a vicious stream of flames and he fell to the ground screaming.

The flames from the bedroom started to extend to the roof, when the witcher Gael, entered the hut. 'Felt good ?', asked Gael, looking at Vera's naked body. 'You two should have never stopped. I thought you were smarter. I was wrong...'.

Vera reached for her sword, when a crack was heard from above then a part of the roof collapsed on top of her. A beam fell on her mid section, trapping her beneath it.

Bowen's scream ended right after he fell on the floor. His face was a flesh barren skull now.

'You should've payed me.'. He continued as he approached the place Vera took her sword from, where he found two pouches of gold placed on top of a wooden chest. He took them and left the hut that began to be engulfed in flames, while little flakes of snow began to fall, melting as they approached the fire...

His eye slowly closed shut, as he inhaled as much air his lungs could take, while his right hand clutched swiftly around the sword's handle.

'It's done...', he whispered through his teeth.

To be continued...