.XXVI. The Fatherless Seed.
What remains in this wretched world of the ones that had passed into the silent void ?
The seeds they have planted...
'Citizens ! Foreigners ! Vagrants ! Brothers and sisters ! Delight into the Eternal Flame, and it's holiness ! Let it satiate your hearts and allow it to become your guide, your beacon ! Pray and rejoice ! For it will shield you and those close to you from the corrupt and the sinful, from the creatures of the dark and practitioners of the blasphemous arts and rituals...', spoke the priest with a rugged voice, standing next to a bowl of fire. 'Brothers and sisters ! Keep the Eternal Flames burning in your homes, tend to them, and your home shall forever be peaceful. Your lives forever calm and full of joy. For those who tend to the flame...Only they and their kin shall thrive and prosper ! Relinquish the blasphemous doctrines, the vile and nefarious magic and the results of mutation, for they represent all that is wicked and evil. Foreigners ! Come. Enter...And relish upon these streets engulfed with the warmth and light of the Eternal Fire. You, have been steered by the Eternal Flames, They, have brought you here. Among the walls of this magnificent city. Rejoice ! For They have brought you to safety !'.
Early in the evening, just a few moments before dusk, Gerd arrived at the modest residence of his old friend, Francess Rourterggest, north of the Tretogor Gate.
'Evening, witcher.', said one of Francess's men as Gerd crossed the street. Dark haired, clean shaven and dressed in black.
'Evening, Loeb.', Gerd replied approaching.
'If you're looking for Francess, he isn't home at the moment-'.
'Where's he at then ?'.
The man called Loeb, pulled out of his right pocket, a red envelope. 'Here. He expected you'd show up this late, and left this invitation for you.'.
'Invitation to what ?', replied Gerd taking the envelope.
'To a rather refined party, held in Gildorf at the Passiflora.'.
'Refined ?'.
'Indeed. For a certain number of important individuals from across the city, Redania and not only, are present.'.
'And he thought I'd fit right in, didn't he ?'.
'Quite.', Loeb replied.
'Did he mentioned anything else, perchance ?'.
'Several things. First of all, he advised me to suggest a bath, before attending. Second, he left some clothes fitting for the nature of the previously mentioned party. That naturally, you, should wear. Third, grooming-'.
'I understand the reasons for a bath-'.
'If you understand that, then you understand the rest as well...'.
Gerd did not reply as he followed Loeb inside.
'Fourth, weapons are not allowed. You could leave them here, or at the Passiflora upon entrance. I'd suggest you leave them here-'.
'I could also wait here 'till morning.'.
'He insisted you attend-'.
'Of course he did...Anything else ?'.
'That's all. I have already told Ysabel to prepare your bath upstairs. You should head up there. It must be ready by now. Your clothes are on the bed, and should you choose to leave your weapons here, there's a chest in front of the bed that you can use.', answered Loeb, while they both stopped as they got out of the hallway and stepped into the main chamber.
'Answer me this. Why would those 'important individuals' allow a witcher to enter their party ?'.
'Several of those individuals are old acquaintances of yours. Rumors regarding your presence in the city hasn't passed unnoticed. You have powerful friends...'.
'The only people I was once able to call friends, have died a long time ago. Don't pretend to know me, Loeb. For you know nothing.'.
'You're right, I do not. But, I know some of them owe you a great deal of things. I know I do, and so does Francess. Yet, unlike us, they can repay you.'.
'You paid me coin. That was good enough.'.
'Gerd. If it weren't for you I would've been burned on a pyre that night. And Francess and I would've never been able to know-'.
'Fine.', interrupted Gerd heading towards the stairs. 'I'll attend.'.
'Good. But I want you to know, that you still have some friends left. True friends. That's the best I and Francess can offer, for we can never repay you. There's not enough coin, nor gold ore left to make it, in all the koviri mines. For nothing can be ever able to fulfill such great amount.', Loeb replied as Gerd walked upstairs.
'Right...', Gerd murmured.
Throughout centuries, Novigrad, became known as The Free City, and all the same home and cradle of the religious cult of the Eternal Fire. That within mere centuries firmly yet so tightly wrapped their hands around the city's throat and Redania whilst spreading as far as Kovir, Kaedwen, and even as south as the southern shore of the Yaruga. Once considered by several heads of state, scholars, philosophers and druids, a rather extremist advocate of racism while favoring the ideology of oppression against practitioners of magic, and products of magic. Fearing it would divide the populace while being a source of prejudice among the citizens regarding race, and that it could result into violent movements against those that have affiliations with magic, mages or witchers. Which in the following decades proved to be true, as the cult's beliefs became laws within the walls of Novigrad, while the hierarchy stated the establishment of their own militia. The Temple Guard and The Order of the Flaming Rose, as the first's duty was to protect the Temple Isle, and the other's to defend the downtrodden, spread the belief of the Eternal Fire, while also stomping disbelievers across Redania and the Northern Kingdoms. The Order, was unaffected and unhinged by politics and laws but those of the Eternal Fire, meaning they were able to kill and persecute anyone that mocked the Eternal Flame, mages, non-humans, even scholars and alchemists, all the while acting as fair knights that fought against the evil and the wicked.
Therefore in the late 11th and early 12th century, stating that Novigrad is a free city, was a rather cruel irony. For the Church of the Eternal Fire allowed and in some cases dictated the so called abnormal creatures that entered or resided in the city to be mocked and aggressed.
Nowadays, early in the 13th century, due to the changing of the Church's Hierarchy, led to a rather tame fight against non-humans, magic and those that are results of it.
Later that same evening, a couple of clouds darkened the sky, while from east a mist had settled upon the sea.
'Loeb.', said Gerd as he reached the bottom of the staircase. 'I'm leaving.'.
'Dressed like that ?', Loeb asked while glancing over the rugged armor Gerd wore.
'Mhm.'.
'Well, Francess stated you'd refuse to wear them anyway. At least I tried. However the sword-'.
'I'm not going to walk through Novigrad unarmed. Nor am I going to enter the Passiflora without them.'.
'But-'.
'Not gonna happen.', Gerd responded, taking a couple of steps within the main chamber as Loeb followed behind.
'Well then, are you hungry ? I could make some-'.
'I'm not, thanks. I better leave towards Gildorf...'.
'Alright then.', replied Loeb, taking a couple of steps away from the witcher. 'I guess you'll be returning here after ?'.
'I won't.'.
'Then, so long.', said Loeb, following Gerd toward the door.
'Farewell, Loeb.', Gerd replied, heading north towards the district of Gildorf.
This side of the city was calm and quiet at this time of the night. However, as he advanced north, more and more people filled the streets.
Not long after he arrived at the Passiflora. Where leaning on the balcony's balustrade were three courtesans, which waved and smiled as he approached the brothel. A couple of steps, beneath the balcony, in front of the establishment were three men talking among themselves and from time to time, addressing the courtesan in front of them. As from the balcony one of the girls kept leaning past the balustrade to exchange a couple of words with her colleague, as the other two, laughed and mocked one of the men downstairs.
'Go home tiny Vinnie !', spoke one of them, as she pulled her top down, showing him her breasts. 'You ain't gonna get these tonight !'.
While further was a tall, blond haired, young man standing near the door. Gerd passed by them and addressed the man near the door of the brothel, showing him the red envelope.
'Sir. Welcome. I'm afraid I can't let you enter with the weapons-'.
'I am not going to be staying long-', replied Gerd, attempting to persuade the doorman.
'What ! You let him in but not us !?', yelled a short and bald man, from among the three individuals that talked with the courtesan, then approached.
'This gentleman has an invitation. You do not. Please step away, sir.'.
'Fuck his invitation ! You'd rather let a fuckin' mutant in there, than us !? Who knows what diseases he carries...'.
'Sir.', replied the courtesan with a subtle yet ridiculing tone. 'Please, do go away.', she continued, walking in front of him. 'Our usual services are unavailable this evening-'.
'Shut up, whore !', the man replied striking the woman across her face with the back of his hand, making her fall next to the steps beneath the door. 'Oy ! Witcher, how 'bout you give me that invitation of yours, huh ?', he continued approaching. 'Me and my, associates, need it more then you do...So, be kind and hand it over.', he said, and smiled as he looked at his pals.
'Sir, leave at once.', said the doorman, helping the courtesan get up.
Gerd looked at the man that guarded the front door, then at the woman that the bald individual struck. As a string of blood was flowing down on her chin from the corner of her mouth, then back at the young man, who's eyes and face seemed to ask the witcher to do something.
'Come on, freak. Hand it over before me and my associates, beat it off you-'.
'Sir. I'll call the guard-'.
'Shut it !', said the man, moving to strike the doorman, while pushing the witcher aside. Gerd caught him by the back of his head and jaw, lifted him up and threw him towards his mates.
'Leave.', replied Gerd, with a grunt. Watching as the man rolled back and stopped at the feet of his two friends.
'You made the wrong choice, pal.', the bald man replied getting up, then advanced towards the witcher.
Gerd swiftly avoided the man's punch by leaning left, while delivering one of his own to the man's right side, beneath the rib cage. Then as he's seen the other two pull out their knives he grabbed his crossbow, and shot two arrows, through one's left knee and the other's right foot. He then proceeded with a headbutt and another punch to the bald man's jaw, knocking him down.
'Take your associates and leave.', said Gerd, looking at the bald man, who stood on his all four and spat blood and a couple of his teeth on the cobblestone paved alley, while his friends bled and groaned a mere few steps away.
'I'll make sure you are hanged for this-', murmured the bald man, as he was trying to stand near a beam that was supporting the balcony, before Gerd kicked him in the torso, making him roll all the way to the other two.
'Fuck off !', Gerd continued as he watched the three men leave the front yard of the brothel.
'Thank you.', said the young man, while the woman nodded her head.
Right after, two other courtesans came out of the brothel and took their friend in.
'Ah, Dolores...', said one of them, wiping the blood off her chin with a handkerchief. 'Quickly, before it bruises.'.
'You can go in as well, sir. I don't mind the swords anymore...', said the young man, as Gerd nudged his head in gratitude then proceeded inside.
Within the brothel, Gerd noticed nobles and scholars, alchemists and several mages. As he advanced further towards the bar, he noticed a couple of familiar faces spread across the room downstairs. A certain red bearded nobleman, who was chatting with his employer, Claire Siggmariggen in one corner, opposed to the staircase. While a couple of steps from the door, he saw the scholar, Vasyl Shaltz, entertaining or being entertained by two women and further at a table near the stairs, was Francess. Who quickly noticed the witcher, and excused himself to those around the table, then walked towards Gerd.
'Ah, my friend. Welcome. I see you've made it. I, also see you chose not to wear the clothes I've left for you. I hoped you'd agree to wear something a bit more elegant for once.', he said, while with a squint of his right eye, he signaled the man tending to the bar, who stepped outside.
'I'm not a buffoon.'.
'By that logic I am one, and so is everyone else in here...', Francess chuckled, leaning against the bar.
'Aren't you ? This whole party is a buffoonery and a jest, for you to flaunt your wealth and influence. As you drink, sing, fuck and talk about whatever fancies your mood. In conclusion a waste of time. However, that is not your case, as I know what you adore about such refined events. The rumors, the grudges, the ass-kissing, the backstabbing. Overall the joy of watching them compete over who's more relevant, more entitled. For the unrestrained showcase of egos and selfishness...'.
'True. It's like I've never left Nilfgaard. It feels a lot like home.', he replied smiling. 'How was your travel here...'.
'Calm and swift.', replied Gerd looking at two courtesans that were passing by.
'I heard of your brawl outside.'.
'A bunch of fools...'.
'Not all of them...But, that's and issue for another time. Anyway, how was your hunt ?'.
'Decent. It provided me, yet again, with another name.'.
'Which is ?'.
'Arlow.'.
Francess clicked his tongue. 'Suspected as much...'.
'You knew ?'.
'I had my suspicions.'.
'Alright. Cut the crap. What's this ? Why did you invite me here ?'.
'There's been a certain...Incident, that could benefit if someone like you would happen to lend a hand...'.
'Is that so...'.
'It is. But, we'll have to talk more about that later. Listen, I'll now go upstairs. You, remain here within the duration of this song and the next-'.
'What's with-'
'Do as I say. Two songs then you come upstairs. I'll explain everything there.', resumed Francess, then he left towards the stairs.
'Can I serve you anything ?', asked the bartender, as he returned behind the bar.
'A pint of mead.'.
'Right away, sir.'.
While the bartender filled a tankard with mead, he looked around the room, before being eyed by the scholar, Vasyl Shaltz.
'Here you go, sir.'.
'Thanks.', Gerd replied, placing five crowns on the counter.
He managed to take a good sip, before Vasyl approached the bar.
'Evening, witcher. It seems we meet again.'.
'Seems so...'.
'Quite surprised to see you at such events. I have to suspect it is business related ?'.
'It is. What about you ?'.
'Same.', he replied looking at the two women he left at the table, then nudged Gerd's shoulder with his right hand. 'What do you think of them ? Pretty things aren't they ?'.
'They are...'.
'Well, the one on the left is of Ofiri descent. While the other, Nilfgaardian. Ece and Klara.'.
'Exotic duo.'.
'Exactly. You should see them shed those clothes...Every inch, just the most pure kind of beauty a man could witness...'.
While the scholar kept describing the beauty of his companions, Gerd noticed two more men from the table Francess sat at, to go upstairs, and later they were followed by a woman that sat at a table on the other side of the room. He remarked that each did so within a couple of minutes between each other. Also the bard had finished his first song, and was now onto the second...
Oh, for last winter,
I loved a pretty maid...
I shivered at the touch of her soft lips,
Aweing with lust as in her auburn eyes I've gazed.
…
Her scarlet locks lightly fell alike curtains round our faces,
As our lips touched with a scorching passion
Her delicate being resting atop of me.
Her calm voice and soft moans a melody to hearken.
A kind of love one's rarely acquainted,
Out of fear of time and dawn,
As shiny rays slip from amidst gray clouds,
Beyond her window the nature's many songs,
Proclaiming an eternal change of seasons,
Yet, we refused to listen.
...
Oh, for last winter,
I loved a lovely maid...
I saw the nights wither with bliss,
As she unveiled the purest love's ways.
...
The spring had to come and stop our love's roaring flames,
For it's ardor melted the winter's frost.
T'was a winter neither shall forget.
As I am still haunted by her erotic figure
Each time I rest my eyes.
…
Oh, for last winter,
I loved a fair maid...
I've lost with her the count of time
For we spent in love's warmth, all the winter's coldest days.
...
And now I ache and yearn to meet her,
To feel such fervor just one more time,
For only then can I rest in peace,
Knowing, that I loved a maid so fine...
~ Last Winter ~
'If you simply desire one of them, just ask. I could rent a room upstairs, and all you have to do, is choose.', continued the scholar before pausing, while quickly, yet awkwardly turning to face Gerd. 'I'd like to continue this conversation. However, it seems, I have to rejoin them. Excuse me.', said the scholar, then returned to the table.
'Witcher !', happily yelled a certain red bearded noble, quickly approaching.
'Evgeni.', replied Gerd.
'Am I not happy to see you, friend ! How's business ?', he said, then addressed the bartender. 'Ale, now !'.
'Good.', Gerd answered, while Evgeni received his drink. After which the bartender was replaced by another, as he went upstairs as well.
'Ah ! You're still humble, I like that. Yet, I heard many rumors, saying you made plenty of coin recently...Thus I'd prefer to correct you, and say business is booming ! Cheers !', said the red bearded noble, knocking his tankard against Gerd's, then drank.
'How's that problem of yours ?', asked Gerd, drinking as well.
'It is, our problem, my witcher friend.', Evgeni added, smiling. 'And thus far...It's going as planned.'.
'Glad to hear it.'.
'Hah ! I bet you are.', he replied, slapping Gerd's shoulder. Then set his eyes ahead, more exactly toward the individuals that sat at the table. 'Look at that prick. Since I've asked how do those two feel compared with the whores in this hole, he keeps avoiding me as if I have the fuckin' plague. Hence why he left your side so nimbly, as soon as he saw me walk this way.', Evgeni continued nodding towards Vasyl Shaltz. 'He better not do the same when I bid for his next bloody painting...'. He emptied his tankard then nudged Gerd. 'Come on, it's high time we go upstairs.'.
'We ?', replied Gerd.
'That's right.'.
'You are in this charade as well ?'.
The red bearded noble nodded. 'Shall we ?'.
'Of course.', answered Gerd, emptying his pint of mead.
Once upstairs they took a left towards one of the rooms and knocked three times, then entered. Inside were Francess, two of the men he sat at the table with, Clair Siggmariggen and the bartender, who opened the door. They were all scattered across the room.
'You should've come one at a time...', said Francess.
Evgeni clicked his tongue. 'You nilfgaardians, always despair over such little details...'.
'Those details are essential. Can't you do something the way you were told to ?'.
'No. For I'm not your bloody soldier...', the noble replied, nodding towards the bartender.
'You incompetent-'.
'Enough you two.', interrupted Claire. 'I've grown tired of hearing you two dispute alike children. Now that we're all here, how about we explain Gerd what all this is about...'.
'Right.', replied Evgeni, walking towards a chair next to a window on the other side of the room.
'Thank you, Claire.', said Francess, taking a few steps back, leaning against the table.
Claire made a couple of steps toward Gerd, taking a deep breath as she looked at the others, then began. 'A mere two days ago, in the city of Novigrad two atrocious crimes have been reported. The victims had been both of high born origins, as well as revered personalities within the high society of Novigrad. Both corpses had been found in their respective homes. However, both had suffered different injuries, and are suspected to have died in different ways. It is still unknown if these injuries had been inflicted while alive or post-mortem.'.
'Alright. So what do you want me to do, exactly ? Determine the causes of death ? If their injuries had been post-mortem or not ?', asked Gerd, glancing over the nobles present in the room.
'All of those above, and the one who did it, obviously.', added the noble left of Francess. Fair haired, a bit more corpulent than the other, dressed in a elegant doublet, black with certain red ornamentations, sitting on a chair at the table. 'I apologize. We haven't been properly introduced. I am Silas de Qudauvoin, and the gentleman, on the right side of the table is-'.
'Newt Tenzs.', replied the noble right of Francess. A tall yet slim individual, dressed in a simple doublet, all black.
'I already am working a contract for-'.
'We know.', Francess intervened. 'However, we didn't know how much could we refrain ourselves from asking you to take a look into those gruesome murders.'.
'Gruesome ?'.
'Indeed. By the early corner reports, the first victim Alphonso Veldi, forty-three, died around three days ago, late in the afternoon. While the other, Patricia La Valette, thirty-one, died two days ago, in the evening. Even so, we would want you to take another look at the bodies.', continued Francess.
'Do you know any details regarding the state of the bodies ?'.
'We weren't allowed in, for the families restricted access to anyone else but family members and close friends.', answered Silas. 'Yet, we managed to get some, information-'.
'More of, I got you that information...', added Newt, he cleared his throat and then continued. 'Ahem. Which makes this whole thing sound more like a jest.'.
'Meaning ?'.
'Well, master witcher. The individual who gave this information, mentioned being present at the time the bodies had been firstly discovered within the two households. Ahem. According to the information received, Alphonso Veldi's body was stuffed with hay alike an animal, showcased upon the table within the dining hall, with organs and blood of animal origin scattered around him. While his insides had been found later, stuffed in the torso of his favorite Temerian steed, located in the stables. As for Lady La Valette, her corpse had been found in her bedroom, kneeling, impaled on a wooden pole. Ahem, through her genitalia and protruding out of her mouth. Also, her arms have been removed and placed on the floor, in the shape of a circle around her body, in which a pentagram was drawn in blood.'.
'Any connection between the two ?'.
'Besides them both being nobility, nothing much...', answered Francess. 'Both had an affair with each other a couple of years ago, but-'.
'Might be why Patricia La Valette was impaled in such a way...', interrupted Gerd. 'Was she married ?'.
'No.', replied Claire.
'Hence the pole. She must've had other such 'affairs'...'.
'Gerd.', resumed Claire. 'Another reason we brought you here, is that Patricia and Alphonso were partners of ours.'.
'Thus, you all might be possible targets...'.
'Exactly.', added Evgeni.
'Well, Lady Claire, I cannot work two contracts as complex as these, at the same time.'.
'We understand.', she replied.
'Yet, we can't assume this isn't urgent.', added Newt. 'Either one of us could be next...So, I say you postpone the one that has proven by now to be unfruitful, and an obvious waste of your time, which might I add, is regarding an already dead man. And, focus all your attention on the one with-'.
'You kaedweni-shit ! How dare you speak that way about her husband-', Evgeni burst, raising from his chair and bolting toward Newt before being stopped by Francess and Silas. 'Say it one more time and I'll fuckin' kill you myself-'.
'Evgeni, calm down. I don't need you to defend my husband.', said Claire approaching.
'True, that man hasn't ever been able to even defend himself...', Newt scoffed.
Evgeni turned red with fury, pushing Silas and Francess aside with ease, launching himself toward the other side of the table, where he punched Newt off the chair, before being restrained by the two once again.
'You selfish prick ! You think we are not afraid ?!'.
'Gerd.', said Francess, while the witcher used his Axii sign on Evgeni, who grew so calm he fell on his bottom. 'Thank you.'.
Claire approached Newt and extended her right hand to help him stand. 'Are you all right ?', she asked before he slapped her hand aside and stood up by himself.
'I'm fine.', he replied holding his left hand to his left cheek. 'Learn how to control your lover, Siggmariggen.'.
Gerd noticed Claire's right hand clutch into a fist, then softly back, as she calmed herself down. 'I apologize for his behavior. He's drunk. Besides you did this to yourself...'.
'I guess I did.', replied Newt.
'We are all stressed as we are, let's not create more of it, by fighting amongst each other. All right ?'.
Newt took Claire's right hand into his as he noticed the back of her hand has turned red. 'I am sorry, I-'.
'It's nothing. Water under the bridge.', she replied, taking her hand away. 'I guess we're done for today. Silas. Newt. You can go downstairs and enjoy what's left of the party, while the rest of us take care of the remaining business at hand. And thank you for attending.'.
Then both noble-men nodded their heads and proceeded toward the door and left the room, while Gerd helped Francess place Evgeni in a chair.
'I'm sorry you had to witness that.', said Claire, turning toward Gerd, while Francess walked and stopped to her left. 'Now, Francess tells me you've obtained yet another name...'.
'I did. Arlow.'.
'Well, this being the other business at hand.', began Francess. 'The name is of a mercenary, operating around Novigrad. Apparently, Arlow, has a few men hold up in the ruins of a castle south of Novigrad.'.
'Is Arlow going to be there as well ?'.
'I cannot say for sure.'.
'Is that all you know ?'.
'Of use, yes.'.
'What of those I can't use ?'.
'Rumors.'.
'And...', murmured Gerd, expecting Francess to share those rumors.
'I can say, that if you find Arlow, you'll probably, be able to get the employer's name.'.
'Can you be sure of it ?'.
'It's a rumor for a reason...'.
'Tremendous...', Gerd replied, unsatisfied with Francess's lead.
'Look, I can't find much on this name, but rumors and useless tales. At least you have a location.'.
'Right. I'll try to shake this tree as well, and see what falls.'.
'Good.'.
'I better get going then. So long.'.
'Good luck.', continued Francess.
Gerd then left the room and headed to the stairs, before being stopped by Claire's pull on his swords, who followed him out of the room. 'Gerd.'.
'What is it ?', he replied turning.
'Listen here.', she said approaching. 'If you find the name of the employer, do not attempt to enter the city. Go at the Seven Cats Inn, and ask the innkeeper about his daughter's emerald ruby. He'll give you a paper and ink, write the name on the paper, and give it back to him. He'll send someone to deliver it. Then get as far as you can from the city, for a fortnight at the least. Do you understand ?'.
'I do.'.
'All right. Take care.', she said, watching as Gerd reached the balustrade near the staircase and walked downstairs.
The ruins used as a temporary home by the mercenaries, were located south of Novigrad, somewhere along the coast of The Great Sea. Finding it wasn't going to be a challenge at all, as the only ruins near the coast, south of Novigrad, were of a castle and once the homestead to a forgotten noble family, that owned the structure and a significant patch of land, around two centuries ago. The western side of the castle began to be flooded by the sea water a couple of decades back, and by the looks of it, the whole structure that's left might be washed away by the sea in the near future.
Nowadays rumored to be the home of drowners, water hags and recently, Arlow's gang of mercenaries.
The whole structure was laying bare beneath the night's sky, shined by a couple of torches the mercenaries have placed around, and the moonlight. Gerd approached the ruins from northeast, crouching among bushes as he carefully watched the ruins. From where he noticed lights atop of one of the eastern towers, and the lower levels of the other, and counted or assumed that the number of mercenaries present in the camp was around ten or twelve. All that remained was to plan his approach...
Therefore, he then advanced toward the ruins, staying low, among the shrubbery, sure that he'll remain unnoticed by the two archers at the top of the tower. Or so he thought, as from ahead an archer appeared from beyond a few boulders near the road. With his bow high and pointed towards the witcher, as he approached, slowly.
'What are you doing around these parts, friend ?', the archer said, later revealed by the moonlight to be an elf.
Gerd raised slowly, as the elf approached. 'Lookin' for berries...', he replied, now standing straight.
The elf responded with a subtle smile on his left side of the mouth. 'Knock him...'.
Gerd heard a swift stroke of the bushes behind, then all went to black, as he was knocked in the noggin with the pommel of a sword. What followed was the sound of him being dragged on the road leading to the ruins, succeeded by several voices and a thud as he was thrown in a cage and the screeching of the metal door as it was closed, then the clink of it being locked.
'What did you two bring ?', asked a mercenary approaching the elf.
'A witcher. Apparently, he was looking for berries...', replied the elf, laughing, as he passed the key to Gerd's cage to the man that asked.
'What 'bout the boss ?', the mercenary asked the elf as both walked away.
'Won't be back till' tomorrow at dusk...', the elf responded, his voice growing inaudible as his slim figure disappeared beyond the blinding light of the torches and candles laid around the castle's courtyard.
The following morning, he woke up with a bad headache, almost naked if not for his trousers and his hands tied, as he sat on his bottom, with his back leaned against the cold bars of the cage. At the sight of a dark haired woman, wearing a beige shirt and black trousers, staring at him.
'You witches don't look that different from normal folk...', she said, coming closer to the cage. 'Sides your cat-eyes I mean...', she replied with a squint of her green eyes while crouching near the cage, placing her left hand around the bars of the door. 'Maybe you make the difference down there...', she continued, pointing at Gerd's crotch. She sighed, moving her right hand between her breasts, taking them both out of her shirt. 'Do you like 'em ?'. she asked, playing with her left nipple. Then continued downwards towards her privates, pressing her middle finger above the trousers, in a counter-clockwise fashion. 'Hmm, only if you weren't in that cage...'. She then moved her right hand to her mouth, biting on her index and middle finger, starting to suck on them and after, with a dripping line of saliva, she closed her eyes as she moved her right hand beneath her trousers, and continued with a soft moan. 'All the things I would let you do to me...', she resumed, placing her head between the bars of the cage's door.
'What the fuck !? Gala !', shouted one of the mercenaries coming out of the northeastern tower.
'What ?!', she replied standing up.
'What are you doing ?'.
'Was. I was doing something, that's none of your fuckin' business ! Now, fuck off before I cut you !'.
'Alright-', the man responded, walking away.
'I said fuck off !', she shouted, grabbing the hilt of the knife she had strapped on her right thigh, as the man quickened his steps.
'Gala.', an elf woman called from the southern side of the courtyard, approaching. 'Gear up, you're coming with me to Mulbrydale to get supplies.'.
'Right.', she replied as she covered her naked breasts beneath her shirt. 'Later, witcher...'.
After that, not much happened till' after dusk, when a couple of riders entered the ruins from south, and following them the elf woman and Gala returned from Mulbrydale with a cart of supplies. Among the first group to return, Gerd believed that one of them must be Arlow. He didn't see anything but their shapes as the area where they entered was dark, and his sight was affected by all the torch light in the courtyard.
During the night Gerd was awaken by the sounds of muffled screams and cries, accompanied by the laughs and voices of several men, coming from the base of the northeastern tower. Not long after, he saw two men drag a little girl's body from the tower back to a cage beyond a wall two meters from Gerd's cage.
It took him sometime to fall back asleep, due to a bad headache and an itch on his lower back he couldn't properly scratch, as his hands were tied. Yet, luckily, the mercenaries had the sense to leave him his trousers...
At the break of daylight Gerd woke up to the sound of waves and the couple of knocks as a mercenary dragged a lit torch along the bars of his cage. 'Wake up, witcher ! You have visitors...', the mercenary spoke with a smirk.
'How's your head ?', asked the she-elf. 'Still spinning ? Must've ate some bad berries.', she continued laughing as the archer joined her.
'Which one of you is Arlow ?', Gerd asked standing up.
The archer chuckled. 'None.'.
He then fixated his eyes on a short bearded man he saw last night, matching the description given by Reginald. 'Is that how you treat little girls ?'.
'What ?', asked the mercenary approaching. 'Do say that again ?', he provoked.
'You like little girls ? What ? Grown women laugh at the sight of your little prick ?'.
The ginger mercenary awkwardly laughed, while unsheathing his hunting knife.
'Calm down, Broli.', said the she-elf, stopping the mercenary by stepping in front of him. 'And I recall telling you to not touch her ever again, didn't I ?'.
'Lela...', Broli mumbled.
'What did I say I would do to you if you happened to do it again ?'.
'You don't actually believe him, do you ?', began the mercenary hesitant. 'He-He wants us to fight each other, so he can get out of that cage-'.
'Oy ! What's all this fuss about ?!', asked a tall and bulky frame of a woman, that if not for her voice, Gerd would've mistaken her for a man. As she walked out from the entrance of the southern tower, with Gala following behind her.
'Nothing.', responded Broli.
'It didn't sound like nothing...', she added approaching. 'Lela ?'.
The mercenary looked at the elf woman, Lela, subtly nudging his head.
'Broli touched the girl, again...'.
Broli quickly turned toward the woman that stopped behind him. 'I didn't the-the witcher is lying...'.
'Is he ?', asked the woman, looking at Gerd.
'He is-', Broli said, then stopped as the woman grabbed him by the neck.
'You see, I don't think he does...', she replied, then looked at the elf. 'Eaedyn. Take him with you to Heatherton.'.
'Gladly.', the elf replied, as the woman let go of Broli's neck. 'Go ready your horse...', the elf continued, as Broli quickly walked to the southern side of the courtyard.
All the while the short duration of that distraction, Gerd managed to use Axii on one of the cutthroats standing near the cage, that happened to have the keys necessary to unlock the door. An action the others didn't notice until the clank made by the door as it was being unlocked. Unfortunately, by then it was too late. As the witcher casted the Aard spell and blew most of them away, while the one that unlocked the cage was struck in the head by the door as it flew out of it's rusty hinges, cracking the man's head. Gerd approached the bandit's corpse, taking the sword, and with a lounge and half a turn he slashed Eaedyn's neck and stabbed the mercenary next to him. While the elf woman quickly shot two arrows, that Gerd stopped by using the corpse of the mercenary he previously stabbed as a shield. From who's back he picked a knife, then rolled beyond a wall to the right, from where he advanced along the wall towards the southern side of the courtyard, where, sitting on the top of a barrel, he found a loaded crossbow. He appeared from beyond the western wall and shot an arrow beneath Lela's left breast as he then took on the other mercenaries in the courtyard.
The elf woman fell on her right knee, coughing, as she watched the witcher kill the others, while the woman that had entered the courtyard previously, was heading for the entrance of the southern tower.
After he finished the other bandits, he advanced towards the tower, while from beyond the south wall, Broli appeared charging. He waved his sword diagonally, which Gerd stopped at the same time while allowing it to slide down his blade, that as soon as the mercenary's sword slid off the tip, he turned into a diagonal slash across Broli's torso, followed by a stab.
'Fuckin' witch-', spoke Broli before falling down.
Then Gerd proceeded toward the entrance of the southern tower. 'Arlow !', he shouted, entering the tower.
As he advanced towards the staircase that let to the top of the tower, from the left, Gala lounged while holding her dagger. Gerd dodged right and rotated his blade, cutting her right arm off from beneath the elbow, following with a stab through the stomach. She slid her fingers along Gerd's shoulder as he took the blade out of her abdomen, and fell on her side watching the witcher walk up the stairs.
'Arlow !', he shouted once again, before reaching the top of the tower.
'What !', Arlow yelled, as Gerd reached the last two steps of the staircase leading to the top floor of the southern tower. She waved her sword horizontally, right into the side of the pillar that sustained a part of the wooden wall next to the stairs. Forcing Gerd to duck, then roll forward all the while she removed the blade from the pillar's side. 'I'm going to crush you...', she continued grabbing her sword with both hands. As she then charged towards Gerd, who raised his sword to stop hers, but, saw it brake in two, the instance it made contact with Arlow's blade. Almost, helplessly watching as the mercenary's sword tip passed by his left eye at the distance of a grass hair. And if he hadn't lean his upper body backwards as quick as he did, he would've been beheaded, clean. He then moved to her right as she attempted a horizontal slash again, that Gerd avoided by ducking, but was then punched in the face by Arlow. 'Not bad...', she replied laughing.
She punched him hard enough, that even for his size he had to turn his back to her in order to not fall off his feet. And as he rotated back to her, he extended his left hand and casted Aard.
The spell had been of such intensity that it blew her away into the wall. Luckily for Gerd, her right hand slammed against the window's side and made her loose her grip on the handle, allowing the sword to slip and fall out the window...
'That's cheating !', Arlow yelled, after she watched her blade hit the side and then fall out the window. She quickly got up and charged toward Gerd, grunting as she speared into him, moving her hands behind his legs and slamming him on the floor. He managed to hit her in the jaw with his right hand, before she did the same to him, as she managed two more punches before Gerd placed his right hand on her left breast and used Aard again. This time blowing her into the ceiling of the tower from where she bounced back on the floor, crashing through a table on the other side of the window her sword flew out of.
Gerd quickly got up and kicked her in the head, knocking her out. As he then found some rope and chains, and tied her to the wooden beam that held the ceiling and the roof of the tower. Then as he searched through the chamber, he found his gear in a chest on the other side of the room.
Through the many years, Gerd fought and killed many monsters, humans, non-humans and even, rarely, witchers...
In the early years he spent on the path, he used to stay his blade if the situations allowed for such restraint to be applied...
However, as he grew older, he found that such restraints, could cause certain complications that he won't benefit from. Thus he came up with a sentence to justify his violence and lack of mercy, as well as all the corpses he left on his trail.
'Honor and respect, are for knights, heroes and fools. Not witchers...'
'Wake up.', Gerd said, slapping Arlow's left cheek.
She did so, struggling to break the rope and chains. 'Once I break free of these ties I will crack your head like a melon...With my bare hands !'.
'Alright...', replied Gerd, sitting on a barrel. 'Until then, do you mind telling me...Who hired you to get the basilisk venom ?'.
'I won't tell anything, to a cheater !', she yelled as she struggled again to break the rope and chains holding her to the wooden beam.
He then casted the sign of Axii. 'Tell me the name of the one who hired you to get the basilisk venom ?'.
'Egil Yngvarrkir.', Arlow spoke.
'Do you have any letter or-'.
'In the cabinet next to the stairs, second drawer...'.
Gerd checked the drawer and found a letter, signed by the underworld boss's right hand, Wagner von Grousse.
'The boss appreciates your quick resolve, and will forward your payment in a couple of days...It will arrive from the east.', mumbled Gerd, as he read the letter. The contents of the letter implied that Arlow and her gang, worked a couple of other jobs for Egil. Which seemed to extend to a couple of months before they were even hired to acquire the poison. 'Alright. Thanks...', he continued looking at Arlow.
He then went back to the barrel, and tipped it over, letting the contents drip over the floor around Arlow, and headed towards the stairs as she began to fret.
'No, no, no ! You coward ! Cheater !'.
'Why are you screaming ? I didn't even set it aflame yet...', he replied casting Igni. 'I'd suggest that instead of screaming, you better start praying to the Eternal Fire...', he continued, then walked downstairs as the mercenary kept screaming and struggle to break free, while the fire intensified.
When he reached the bottom of the tower and exited it, stepping into the courtyard filled with corpses, he saw next to the cage he spent most of his time among those ruins, the elf woman, Lela. With the little girl he saw during the night, sitting in her lap, holding onto her right hand, covered in blood. She was gasping for breaths, yet, as she watched the little girl playing with her golden locks of hair, she smiled. Keeping her closing eyes fixated onto her little face, and her hand on the little girl's right cheek, wiping her tears.
'You'll have to leave...'. Lela whispered, moving a couple of red hair locks aside from the little girl's left cheek, gazing into her blue eyes.
'But...', she began sniffing. 'I don't want to...'.
'I'll be fine.', Lela continued, as the tear that she held onto for some time, finally dropped from her eye and slid down her right cheek. 'He'll take you back to your father...'.
Then, Lela slowly turned her head, as she heard footsteps from her left, locking her blue eyes on Gerd, as he was approaching. Then looked beyond him, at the top of the tower now completely engulfed in flames.
'Witcher-', Lela whispered, then coughed blood. 'Take her with you-'.
'I won't leave you...', the little girl said, sniffing.
'Elia, we talked about this. You can't stay here.', said Lela, crying as well. 'Witcher. Please. Take her with you. Take her to her- father in Erde-', she continued, then coughed blood on Elia's rugged shirt. 'Please...'.
Gerd looked at Lela and Elia, as the fire crackled and covered the sound of the waves of the sea, even his thoughts. It's roaring being the only thing he could hear...
'Please...She's innocent- She has no fault in all of this...She won't survive all alone-', she resumed, raising her voice.
Gerd slowly leaned towards Lela, who extended Elia's hand toward him. 'Please-'.
'Alright.', he said taking Elia's right hand into his, then as she raised from her lap, he looked in Lela's auburn eyes for a while.
Lela gulped some air, then, nodded as she swallowed some blood. 'Go !', she said as Gerd took Elia in his arms and walked out of the ruins. She cried, looking over Gerd's shoulder at Lela, who smiled and waved to little Elia...
Gerd and Elia went north, toward the lighthouse, sitting atop the cliffs southwest of Novigrad, where he left his mare. On the way there Elia didn't talk, as she just looked at the castle's ruins, sniffing from time to time...
'Master witcher !', greeted the lighthouse keeper, seeing them approach.
'Fritjof.', replied Gerd, now near the islander.
'I thought something happened to you, master...', said Fritjof. 'Where did you find her ?', the old man asked, looking at Elia. 'She an orphan ?'.
'Yes.', replied Gerd. As Elia left his side going to his mare, who lowered her head, letting Elia touch her muzzle, then snorted, making Elia laugh. 'Thanks for taking care of Yyn.', he continued, taking out of his pouch twenty crowns, and handing them to Fritjof.
'Thank you.', replied the old man, smiling.
'Come on, Elia.', he said extending his right hand, that she was hesitant to take at first, but did after a few moments. Gerd placed her on Yyn's saddle, and then climbed on, behind her. 'Farewell, Fritjof.', he said before leaving.
'Good luck on the path !', replied the old man and watched as he rode off.
He was heading towards the Seven Cats Inn, where he had to leave the letter he found in Arlow's tower. And the name, Egil Yngvarrkir...
They quickly reached the bridge beyond which stood the Inn itself. Gerd left Yyn at the watering spot in front of the inn, and with Elia next to him, entered the inn, and approached the innkeeper.
'Good day.', he said as the innkeeper approached.
'Need rooms ?'.
'No. I'm here about a contract regarding your daughter's emerald ruby...'.
The innkeeper opened his eyes wide, and then responded. 'Right away. Please sit, at the table near the corner.'.
Gerd did as the innkeeper said and sat at the instructed table. 'Elia. Are you hungry ?', he asked, while Elia nudged her head in negation.
Shortly the innkeeper came at the table, and sat on the other side. Then placed in front of Gerd a sheet of paper, a pen, and ink. 'Here...'.
Gerd wrote the name on the sheet of paper, and then handed him the letter as well.
'Is this all ?', asked the innkeeper.
'Yes.'.
'I'll send someone right away.', the innkeeper replied, then left the table.
'Are you sure you're not hungry ?', Gerd asked again, while Elia replied by nodding her head. 'Alright. Come on...'.
Then both left the Inn riding on Yyn's back, heading northeast, towards Erde...
On their way there, Gerd thought of what to do. In who's care, should he give Elia to ? For her father, Reginald, is dead, probably her mother too. Should he ask the cobbler, Ella, if she could take her in ? He didn't know what to do. Nothing seemed to be right. For he just didn't know what to do...
He didn't even want to know of how many times did the men in those ruins abused her, like they did that night...He knew he killed them all, yet that won't help her forget, or heal from whatever those men damaged...
He saw many young boys die during the Trial of the Grasses, but compared to this, to Elia, he didn't care for those boys at all. For that wasn't a result of his own doing. For all those boys didn't die because of him, they were not in that situation because of his choices...
While this little girl in front of him, Elia. The forces that placed her in his path, were not mysterious, or unknown in any way, shape or form. No, it was all his doing. His actions.
His fault...
Thus, when he saw the figure of Erde appear from beyond the trees alongside the road, late in the afternoon, he didn't know what to do...
So, instead of entering the village, he stopped near the road. Got off the saddle, and led Yyn by the reins, with Elia in the saddle inside the camp near the village, towards Kaela's tent...
With each one of his steps on the soft grass and dirt, he felt as if he walked on a hollow shell and with each individual step, he deepened into nothingness...
'Gerd.', said Kairr coming out of the tent, as the witcher approached. 'Welcome back !', he continued. 'Who are you ?', he asked quickly walking to Yyn's left side, looking at Elia. 'Good day, my lady. May I ask for your fair name, perchance ?'.
She smiled then replied. 'Elia.'.
'What a lovely name !', he responded. 'Are you a princess ?'.
She chuckled. 'No...'.
'Are you sure ?'.
'I am.'.
'Well, I, my fair lady, do not believe you.'.
From beyond the tent, holding an empty basket, Kaela appeared. She smiled as she saw him, then approached.
'Sister, look what Gerd brought.', Kairr said taking Elia from the saddle. 'This is my sister, Kaela.', he continued putting her down near her. 'Kaela this is Elia...', he resumed placing his hands on his belt.
'Elia...That's a beautiful name.', Kaela said sliding her fingers around Elia's right cheek, then looked at Gerd. 'What of her pare-', she suddenly paused, for she found her answer through the witcher's lines of thought. As she took a deep trembling breath, then hurried towards Gerd, wrapping her arms around his neck, while he leaned his head on her naked right shoulder and placed his right hand on her hip. While Kairr took Elia in his arms, as both looked at the two...