Conjunction

Chapter 22 - Midwinter

Part 2

He awoke in the dark of night covered in sweat and acutely aware of her distress. The dream had come again, as he thought it might without him beside her. He lay back down in the small, hard bed and covered his face with his forearm. The memory of her face from the dream haunted him still. He could see her standing across the vast chasm, desperate to get to him but unable to. The large wolf beside him paced back and forth in agitation, and the dragon that rested beside her on the other side of the chasm trumpeted and flapped its wings in frustration. He could clearly see the tears streaming down her face tonight. He didn't remember her ever crying in the dream before.

He finally gave up on sleep after laying in the darkness for some time and got up to try meditating instead.

When he roused himself from his meditations at dawn, there was a deep hush that seemed to permeate the entire world. The fire before him had burned down to a few weakly glowing coals, and he was only aware of his own breath visible in the chill morning air. There seemed to be no other sounds, until he reached out with his senses and was able to discern the breathing of the other people in the castle, but the outside world was utterly still.

He stood up slowly and pulled a wool tunic over his head, then strode to the window, pushed it open, and looked out. He blinked his eyes quickly to adjust to the brightness of the thick blankets of snow that covered everything in the world outside the castle. It took his breath away and brought up a surge of memories from the winters he'd spent here during his youth. He hadn't felt those memories in so long and the nostalgia gave him the sudden urge to find Eskel and reminisce as they used to.

She was still sleeping, he discovered after a quick and tentative reach from his mind to hers. He decided he would make every effort to be present today, for her. He finished dressing and headed down to the main hall.

Delicious aromas assaulted his nose as he walked through the kitchen door. Vesemir and Bekim were busy with breakfast and both seemed to be in jovial spirits.

"Glad you decided to join us, Wolf!" Vesemir said enthusiastically. "Midwinter Day wouldn't be the same without you."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Vesemir," he replied with a smile, and rolled up his sleeves to help with breakfast.

The others trickled down slowly over the next hour. When Solona entered the kitchen, Geralt's heart skipped a beat and he briefly questioned his own judgement, but she seemed to barely react to him. She seemed different this morning... worn out and dejected. When she finally did look at him all he saw was the same hurt and confusion in her eyes from the night before.

After breakfast, they all went to the main hall for the traditional tree-lighting. Triss heroically attempted to bolster Solona's mood and convinced her to participate. The tree stood nearly twelve feet tall in the center of the hall and had small globed candles perched around all its branches. Vesemir spoke a short rhythmic chant to begin and they all joined in, then between the six of them casting quick little spells, they methodically took turns lighting the candles on the tree from bottom to top. The final candle at the top was much larger and the five of them lit it in unison. The effect was breathtaking and they all gazed at it in wonder for several moments. Then they whooped in joy and the Witchers joked with each other about how they managed to survive the ceremony without setting the tree on fire. Bekim had stood in awe as he watched them and began instantly asking questions.

"What's that ritual for, Vesemir?" Bekim asked with intense curiosity. Vesemir glanced at the other Witchers briefly before answering.

"Midwinter is the first day of Yule, when the dead are more likely to walk among us. During this time the King of the Wild Hunt and his wraiths are out in force, recruiting the ghosts of the dead to add to their ranks. The spell is meant to protect against the Wild Hunt, to keep the wraiths at bay."

The boy's eyes grew large as he took this in. "They would come here? But they just want the dead, right, so we would be safe wouldn't we?"

"They recruit the spirits of those who have fallen in battle, but they would still engage the living in combat," Vesemir said soberly.

"But... they're all ghosts! How do you fight a ghost?"

"With steel and magic," Geralt said, his voice as cold as ice. "But they aren't all ghosts. The King who leads them is an Aen Elle. An elf from the old kingdom." He exchanged a quick glance with Solona for the first time that morning and she understood immediately what the look meant. Tonight they may get to meet the King of the Wild Hunt. Geralt didn't appear to be looking forward to the reunion, but she felt a surge of excitement at the prospect. A real fight would do the two of them some good, she thought.

Vesemir finally distracted the boy from his questions, sending him back to the kitchen to fetch mulled wine for everyone. Once he'd passed out the drinks, they took turns exchanging gifts.

Solona and Geralt barely looked at each other throughout the process, instead focusing on the other members of the group and sharing in the joy of their gifts. The gifts were modest and unremarkable for the most part: a collection of teas for Vesemir, a bottle of fine liquor for Lambert, a set of pretty hair combs for Triss.

Solona handed Vesemir a small, rectangular shape wrapped in parchment and tied with ribbon. When he opened the gift, it turned out to be a rather ragged looking book that appeared singed around the edges. He looked at it curiously.

"The Search for the True Prophet," he read from the cover and looked at Solona with eyebrows raised in interest.

"My friend Wynne gave it to me before I left to come to this world. I think you'll find the story interesting... it reminds me of what you've told me of the prophetess Ithlinne's story." She gestured at the burned edges and said, "It was nearly destroyed for its subversive subject - it suggests that Andraste, the Maker's Chosen, was in fact a powerful sorceress and not the bride of the Maker as most had believed."

He began nodding with growing interest at her description and said, "Hmm, thank you! That does sound interesting." He instantly began perusing the first few pages of the tattered book.

Then she gifted Bekim with a dragonbone dagger that she'd had for the past year but hardly ever used. The boy was utterly humbled by the gesture and stood flushed while he gazed in awe over the intricately wrought blade.

Bekim reluctantly pulled a small wrapped parcel from his pocket and handed it to her. When she unwrapped it she stared raptly at the small carved figurine. It was carved from some kind of black stone, which she recognized as the same stone that came from the mine in his village. He had painstakingly carved it into the shape of her dog, but not in one of his nobler moments... one hind leg was stuck solidly in the air and his head was between his legs. She laughed out loud.

"Bekim, I love it! It's perfect!" She bent down and showed it to Lusa, who sniffed at it for a moment then snorted disdainfully before settling down to mock the artistry by showing how it should really look. She gave Bekim a quick peck on the cheek which only made his flush deepen.

When the gift giving appeared to be complete, Lambert announced, "Training is outside today. And I expect everyone to be there." Heads turned to look at him with surprise. He shrugged and said, "Just consider this my gift to you all." He grinned deviously.

Solona retreated to her room to bundle up. She'd seen the thick blankets of snow from her window when she'd awakened and it had looked cold. She had hoped for a quiet day to sit inside by the fire, but clearly Lambert had other ideas. But the truth was that she needed a distraction from her thoughts lately, so she was looking forward to it.

When she opened her wardrobe to pull out her heavy cloak, she paused for a second and reached for the small cloth-wrapped bundle that lay at the bottom of the cabinet. She picked it up and opened it gently, looking down at the pair of dragon hide gloves she'd made for Geralt from a piece of the leather she'd brought with her for the purpose of repairing her own armor. She'd spent the last two weeks working on them with Vesemir's help and was proud of the final result, and had hoped that Geralt would be pleased. She had planned to give them to him today, but current circumstances had made her think it might be better if she waited. She re-wrapped them and set them gently back in the bottom of her wardrobe.

ooOoo

She was bundled to the gills when she finally exited the fortress into the training yard. The bright sunlight reflecting off the blankets of snow was almost blinding. It was warmer than she'd expected it to be, and there was a bright blue sky above them. Her leather-booted feet crunched across a path of snow that already showed the signs of traffic from the others. Lusa bounded ecstatically up to her, his dark snout covered in white dust. He licked at her gloved hands enthusiastically and then bounded off again, unable to stay still for longer than a second. She laughed at the big dog's elation.

"Finally, the last contestant arrives," she heard Lambert call out at her arrival. When she walked cautiously down the steps to the training yard she could see they'd been busy. There were two low walls built of snow at opposite ends, and everyone seemed to be busy building an arsenal of snowballs on either side of them.

"We'll split into teams. Geralt, Triss, Vesemir, Eskel on this side. Me, Sol, Bekim, and Lusa on the other. If you get hit by a snowball, you make snow angels. Last team with a man - or woman - or dog - still standing wins. Best three out of five. Understood?"

Solona grinned. This sounded fun. She trotted over to her team and crouched behind the wall, grabbing up a handful of snow and compacting it into a large snowball. Lusa seemed distracted by plowing up the snow nearby with his snout.

"Lusa!" she called in a loud whisper and he trotted to her obediently. "When they throw snowballs, you catch them in your mouth, can you do that?" He woofed at her in the affirmative.

Lambert stepped behind the wall and crouched down, beckoning to the others. "Okay, here's our strategy. They're all bigger and slower... well, mostly. We have size and quickness on our side. And a big dog." He grinned. "For the first volley, spread out and go for the big ones, try to take them out, and don't get hit!"

He called out a short countdown and yelled, "Charge!" in a fierce, bloodthirsty yell.

Solona tumbled quickly to the side with a snowball in each hand. She came up on one knee and threw hard at the largest figure in her field of vision, taking Eskel squarely in the chest as he began throwing at someone else behind her. He looked down at his chest and let out a gasp, dropping dramatically to the ground and flapping his arms and legs in the snow.

Solona turned to look for a new target and switched her lone snowball to her other hand. She heard a loud bark and turned abruptly to see Lusa launch into the air and snap a soft, white projectile out of the air, his teeth coming together in a sharp crack. She hurled her snowball back in the same direction, nailing Vesemir just above the breastbone. The man fell down in a puff of soft snow and lay there laughing.

Lusa was darting back and forth, adeptly dodging snowballs and snatching them out of the air before they could hit his teammates. Solona turned to take stock of their situation and saw that Bekim was down, but she and Lambert were still up, as were Triss and Geralt. Three to Two. Those were good odds.

"Reload!" Lambert called and they all ran to their respective arsenals to grab more snowballs.

"Stay behind Lusa," Lambert gasped out when they were reloading. "He's our best advantage right now."

"Of course," Solona grinned back at him

They rolled back out and held their ground behind the big dog. They tossed a few snowballs and were unable to hit the other two, but Lusa disrupted any attacks that came their way.

When they went back for another round of ammunition, Lambert whispered, "We need a new tactic. Lusa," he looked at the big dog with a serious expression. "I hate to do it, but we need you to take one for the team. You charge them, and they'll be forced to attack you. When they do, we'll charge in behind."

The big dog gave him a worried look and whined softly. Lambert patted him gently on the shoulder, saying, "Don't worry friend, your sacrifice will be avenged, I promise." Lusa gave him a soft whoof and an affectionate lick across the face. Lambert laughed.

When the call to charge came, Lusa burst through the wall in front of them in a spectacular explosion of snow, and charged at full speed towards Geralt and Triss. They were so surprised they didn't even see the final attack as it hit them. When they realized it, they both fell back into the snow, laughing in surrender.

"Yes!" Solona yelled and she and Lambert did a little victory dance with Lusa leaping in the snow beside them.

"Who's for another round?" Lambert asked with a grin when the losers stood up.

"As if I'll let you get the best of me, brother," Geralt taunted as he stood up and brushed the snow from his trousers.

Eskel trotted over and said, "Okay, but only if we can make a trade. Triss for the dog."

Triss shot an insulted look at the large Witcher who just shrugged at her in mock helplessness and said, "It's a matter of survival, babe."

Solona sighed in resignation, "Fine, if you insist." She called Lusa to her and explained the change in rules. She was honestly surprised at how easily he seemed to adapt to the idea, trotting over to stand with Geralt, Eskel, and Vesemir, and giving her a look as though he were saying "I know your tricks, woman, don't mess with me." It made her laugh to herself.

"We're so screwed," she muttered. Lambert grumbled something unintelligible in response. Triss stood before them and made a little noise that sounded vaguely insulted.

"You guys," Triss said. "I'm standing right here. We can kick their asses... we just have to hit the dog first."

Lambert gave Triss an appraising look, "Merigold is right. We focus on the dog." Solona caught the look of irritation Triss shot at Lambert, and saw something interesting in the steady gaze he returned to the other woman. She got the distinct impression that he had deliberately tried to get a rise out of her, but Triss refused to bite. Instead, she just grabbed a pair of snowballs and squatted down behind the wall next to Solona. Solona heard her mutter the word "asshole" under her breath before pasting an overly cheerful smile on her face which Solona didn't believe for a second.

"Okay, let's do this," Lambert said. "Bekim, you hang back and wait. When they're spread out chasing the rest of us, sneak in behind them and don't hesitate. Everyone else go for the dog first." The boy nodded with a big grin. He was clearly having the time of his life today.

The next round didn't go in their favor, and afterwards the game degenerated into chaotic snowball-flinging between all the parties and shoving of cold snow down pants and shirts until everyone was thoroughly chilled and soaked with melted snow, but laughing hysterically.

They retreated indoors when it was clear the game was no longer bearing fruit and headed straight for the hot baths downstairs.

Everyone hurriedly stripped out of their cold, damp clothes and splashed into the hot water with uninhibited abandon. When Solona and Triss joined them Bekim just sat at the far end of the pool and watched as stoically as possible, trying not to stare at the way Triss' full breasts swayed slightly when she walked down the steps and joined Eskel on the bench. The Witcher draped a large arm over her slender shoulders and leaned in to kiss her gently on the cheek. When Solona disrobed and joined them, Bekim watched Geralt intently and could clearly see the internal struggle the man was dealing with.

Solona settled on a bench near the steps next to Lambert and cast a quick glance to the other end of the pool where Geralt sat studiously ignoring her. Shortly after she arrived, Geralt left abruptly, hopping out of the pool at the far end and draping a towel around his hips before quickly striding out of the room. Bekim noted the brief pained expression on her face when that happened. She was soon distracted by something Lambert said to her that made her laugh, but the mirth was never reflected in her eyes.

The group was chatting idly as they relaxed in the steaming water, joking about their little war and critiquing their different strategies. They all agreed that Lusa was the biggest asset for any team, and laughed in unison when they heard the big dog let out a low howl from the doorway, then strut around the pool once before settling down by the door to rest.

Conversation lulled as the heat began to soak into them. Vesemir eventually exited the pool to dress and left with Bekim to start dinner, and Lusa followed at their heels. The word "dinner" always seemed to get the big dog's attention.

Triss stood up and then sank under the water, holding her breath and swimming beneath the surface to the other end of the pool with a quick breast stroke. She rose up at the other end, the water trickling down from the soaked tendrils of her hair and she glanced back over her shoulder at Eskel with a beckoning look. Solona noted both men watching the woman with similar expressions of hungry need. She heard Eskel's low growl before he stood to follow her.

"Well, that's my cue," she heard Lambert mutter beside her and he exited the pool in much the same fashion that Geralt had earlier, and she didn't miss the particular state he was in, either. She followed him, throwing on her pants and a shirt quickly and drying her hair with a towel. She grabbed her other clothes and shoes and trotted barefoot down the corridor behind him.

"Lambert, you could have told me," she whispered to him when she caught up to him.

"I've no idea what you're referring to, Sol," he said tersely.

"You're in love with her," she stated succinctly.

"Nonsense," he replied.

She snorted. "And you're clearly in denial about it, too."

He stopped abruptly and gripped her shoulder, forcing her to stop and turn to face him. Through gritted teeth he said, "If I am, what the hell am I supposed to do about it? She was in love with Geralt for years, and now..." he was interrupted by soft sounds of passion floating out of the bath and turned quickly to continue back up the corridor.

Halfway up the stairs he said quietly, "I love my brothers. Even if she didn't actively detest me, I would never try to steal her from either of them. It's hard enough for Witchers to find love. It would be too cruel an insult for me to take that away from Eskel."

Solona said, "Well, you don't exactly make it easy for her to like you. You could try to be nicer."

"You just don't get it, do you? I can't be nicer. We're both better off if she thinks I'm an ass."

Solona shook her head in disbelief at his stubbornness but didn't push the subject further.

ooOoo

Dusk was just beginning to settle outside the fortress when it started. Lusa was the first to notice, and began whining faintly at the front door. The others were just finishing dinner and heads all turned abruptly when the sounds of barking dogs began to echo through the valley. Bekim caught the sudden air of eerie apprehension that fell over everyone as they exchanged silent glances.

Geralt's jaw clenched and he glanced at Solona, holding her gaze steadily. "It's time," he said, and she nodded in response, standing silently and heading to her room to get her gear. One more mutagen to collect and they would be finished. She was still only halfway through the series of mutagenic changes that would finally make her a Witcher, but the prospect of having this particular step completed felt like a major milestone to her.

Back in the main hall, Vesemir asked, "Wolf, are you sure you want to meet the Hunt tonight?" The full moon will give them an advantage and they'll be out in full force. We can wait and go another night... catch the wraiths in a smaller group to secure the Vapors for Solona. You know if we go tonight and the King is in attendance he's going to try to..."

Geralt cut the man off, abruptly, "I know what he's going to try, and we won't let him. It's time to end this. With the six of us together we can handle all the wraiths, and I can handle the King."

Vesemir's brow drew together and the older man said in a fierce voice, "But you can't kill him, Wolf! And if you banish him how much longer until he returns and the cycle starts over?"

"I think I can kill him," Geralt said with deadly certainty, and the others stared at him, stunned into silence. "I can't explain right now. If you all are with me, we need to get moving. We know where to meet them."

"We're with you, Wolf," Eskel said. Lambert and Triss both nodded and they headed to their rooms to prepare.

"Bekim, you're staying here with Lusa. Keep the fires burning and stay inside," Vesemir instructed the boy before leaving the room to get his own gear.

It was fully dark and the full moon was slowly creeping its way over the stables when they mounted up and Bekim raised the portcullis for them to ride out.

Geralt and Solona rode side by side in the lead and her skin prickled with anticipation. As if he had sensed her state of mind, she heard Geralt's voice in her head, I need you to follow my instructions exactly tonight. Don't take any chances, Sol. We can't risk anything happening to you. She turned her head to study him silently and nodded solemnly. He glanced at her again, eyeing her light armor beneath her cloak and she heard his voice in her mind again. Are you going to be warm enough? She smiled softly at his evident concern. Yes, the dragon hide alone is more than enough to fend off the chill. I just don't like to wear it to train in. She glanced at his gloved hands holding his horse's reins and briefly regretted not giving him the gloves she had made for him. It was a bitterly cold night and she knew they would need every advantage. She felt silly for worrying. He knew as well as she did what they were about to do. Better, in fact.

They reached the Witchers' graveyard after half an hour of riding through the snow-covered valley. A harsh wind howled through the trees, carrying with it the growing sounds of barking dogs and ghostly hoofbeats that seemed to echo from every direction in the night. Dozens of gravestones were lined up like soldiers in a large clearing across the top of a low hill several miles from the castle. The full moon cast stark shadows of each uniform rectangular stone on the unblemished snow that covered the graves of the fallen Witchers. They dismounted quietly at the edge of the clearing and tethered their horses to the trees. Geralt crunched across the snow and hopped over the low stone wall that surrounded the graveyard, followed closely by the others. He walked to the center of the clearing and stopped before a stone monument carved in the shape of a large wolf's head with faces on all four sides, and a large hollow in the center accessible from the mouths. He reached into the pouch at his side and drew out a small flask, which he emptied into a bowl-shaped indentation carved in the center of the gaping stone mouths. With a flick of his wrist, the oil burst into flame, and the eyes of each face lit up, illuminating the snow around the odd lantern with a warm, orange glow.

They waited for the Wild Hunt to come to them.

Next Chapter: Just a small confrontation or two.