A Scholar's travels with a Witcher

by Spike368

Sent out to gather the knowledge of the real world. A young scholar from the University of Oxenfurt finds a wounded Witcher on the steps to the inn where he was staying. So he starts gathering the material for his journals. Rated T for language I will be publishing this story on Royal Road /profile/349358

180. Chapter 180

(A/N: Sorry for the delay. This is for two reasons. The first is that Real Life job keeps getting in the way of me hitting the word count but also because I wanted to get to the resolution that I know many of you, and me too to be fair, have wanted to get to. But when I looked up, it turned out that I had written sixty odd thousand words which is far too much, even for me. So I have fallen back on the old trick of splitting it in two. Both are already spelling and Grammar checked, as far as I can, and just need proof reading and formatting so you should be getting the next bit a day or two after you read this.

All the best and thank you for reading.)

Nothing much is happening in the castle at the moment. Nothing that I can talk about anyway so we go straight in with Sir Aleksy's account of what happened after Novigrad was retaken by Imperial and Skelligan forces.

It was a disaster old boy and at first, it didn't seem as though it was possible.

Novigrad has never fallen like that. It has changed hands a couple of times and there were a couple of decades there where it was its own separate Kingdom. But those men that have spoken about the fortifications, about the walls and the engines, those men that speak of those things with pride were right to do so. They were right to be prideful and then…

Novigrad was taken.

I don't know old cock, it seems obvious to me now as I sit here with you. It seems obvious as to why it fell but at the time we received the first men that were fleeing the fall of the city, with incredulity.

The first men to flee are always those self-important bastards that deserve to be slowly impaled to death on spikes that are then slowly heated up so that the fuckers roast from the inside. There are bastards and then there are bastards and those fuckers deserve no… they deserve no safety from me or the people that are on other sides. They are traitors and they know that and we know that and your side knows that and they deserve to die the most horrible death.

Because everything about them, everything… is a lie.

True messengers that are sent with proper backing and orders, ride alone. Proper military messengers have fast horses and sharp blades. They know the land and they have a steadfast determination to make it through. There will be several of them that might be sent if people are concerned that the first one won't get through and that the first messenger will be taken and diverted. These are those messengers that Foltest came up with and where the method was so good that the Imperials took it on themselves.

I see you know them old cock. I remember reading about your run-in with them. The messenger service during the matter regarding your sister. Ass of leather, head of gold. The real message is in the head of the messenger, not the satchel of papers that they carry as a distraction.

Then there are the small groups of common men, if military discipline has broken down and you are travelling over enemy-occupied territory. Your little trio of two Elves and a Skelligan carrying word of what had happened out of Coulthard castle and into… whatever it was that came next.

You are a good example of that kind of thing, old bean. The flight from the North when you carried word of…

That should have been a clue for us really shouldn't it? That your brother was black, dressing himself in a pretty cause.

But you did the same, carrying the vital word of something through ambush and attack and flame knows what else. You can be as proud of that action as you can be as proud of anything. When I read and heard about that, I wished that I had been there and fought with your men. I was proud of you, even as I hated you for your politics but the thing that you did there with your Temerian knight and your small group of soldiers, was an immense action old boy and you can and should be proud of that.

So that is carrying a message. I will tell you what a messenger is not though and these are the fuckers that I would slowly lower into hot oil. Not boiling oil. Hot oil, that deceptive feeling that you could get used to the heat before someone adds some more logs to the fire so that the temperature will slowly increase and you don't know that you're dying until the smell of your own fried flesh starts to occur to you and drifts down your nose.

A messenger is NOT one of those fuckers that do not travel quickly, with good military precision, in full arms and armour with a cavalry escort through friendly territory to carry word.

Messengers travel with speed or with stealth, they do not travel openly. I might not have explained it properly but I know it when I see it and so does every military man that might come before and after it. You just know it when a man is fleeing under the guise of carrying a message, just as you know when a man is fleeing for his life when he claims to be trying to preserve his men and his command rather than standing and fighting.

The first that we knew about the fall of Novigrad was when one of those bastards came. He thought he was riding quickly but any real messenger would have ridden the same distance in half the time. He rode up and he was already sweating and shaking with fear. He was blown and even though he was not up to the extended march, he told us that Novigrad had fallen and that it was imperative that he reach Coulthard Castle to carry word of the betrayal that had occurred.

I didn't know what he meant by betrayal my friend, but there you go.

We didn't know what to make of it and I will admit that I didn't believe that first one. He was a fat bastard, red-faced and sweating. He could barely move in his armour which is never a good sign. So I looked at him and his escort of twenty heavily armoured men and I thought that that was twenty men that might make the difference between victory and defeat.

Presuming that those men were genuine fighters, old cock. Real fighters and not parade ground fighters. Their armour was certainly very shiny and all of that.

So they were sent on their way and we didn't know what to make of it. We didn't want to believe him, nor did we want to let the word of what had happened spread amongst the troops.

The second messengers were of similar kinds of standpoints. They were at least, slightly more militarily minded. They came to us and argued that they did so to meet with a place that would have "better military discipline". It turned out that I knew that Knight and his retinue and I was called in to ask what had happened. Unfortunately, he didn't have that much more to offer us.

He had been on one of the gates and had realised that his position was about to be overrun, he had sent word for reinforcement and when the reinforcement had not come, nor even had orders telling him to hold his posts or any of the other military orders that are sent when a person or a unit is being sacrificed to delay the enemy, he had decided that his superiors had lost their minds and decided to keep what men that he could.

Still not what you're supposed to do, old cock. In the lack of other orders, you hold to your previous orders. We got the chance to speak a bit in private while we all decided what to do, and he told me that we had been betrayed. I asked him by who and he looked at me as though I was stupid.

Not in so many words, he told me that the people had betrayed us. He spun me a story about how Nilfgaard must have infiltrated the city more thoroughly than we had expected so that when the city was attacked, the Nilfgaardian propagandists had convinced so many of the common folk to betray and drive out their rightful Redanian masters.

Remember, I beg of you old friend, that we had no idea what life had actually been like within the city walls and that is the thing that we should have seen coming.

But he told me that and, to my eternal shame old man, I believed him. It was ludicrous to believe that good, flame-fearing men and women of Redania would allow themselves to be coerced and taken in. We honestly believed that the people would be on our side. That they would be grateful for the opportunity to throw off the shackles of Imperial rule.

I was outraged, the same as the rest.

Then another group of men came in and they were not led by any formal officer so they were taken prisoner for desertion and someone ordered a gallows built to start hanging them all.

Then the proper message finally came through and we started to get an idea of the scale of what was happening.

Have you ever had your fundamental beliefs shaken, old boy? Have you ever had the things that you had known to be certain to be true, collapse around your ears so that then you have to start questioning all of the things that you have thought up until that point?

I've thought about it since. Lots of time to think when you're a prisoner waiting for someone to remember you and to make your march to meet the headman. Lots of time to think and I now believe that that was the moment that I started to realise, not only that we were wrong, but that we were going to lose.

The people of Novigrad were supposed to be on our side, so why weren't they? They should have been flocking to our banner, so why weren't they?

There were any number of potential answers to that question and I liked none of them. I could believe that propagandists and Imperial agents would have turned some people to the Imperial cause, but not enough that the scale of the uprising that my former colleague would describe.

It was desperately unpleasant. It was not a quick process either, that arrival of realisation. I read the same message that everyone else did. It was a quick message and it described that the harbour had been taken and was being used to disembark Imperial veterans. The report listed Imperial company banners that had been seen. It described how citizens had been seen fighting alongside the Imperials and how, at every turn, it seemed that the fortification efforts to prevent this kind of attack had simply failed due to sabotage. Food had been poisoned, gates had been locked, arrows and crossbow bolts were destroyed and weapons had been stolen. Armour was rusty and at the last, the people of Novigrad had risen against us as well.

The sender of the message, a General Piotr Bujak…

Self-promoted by the way. I never heard of the man and if he was a general, I WOULD have heard of him, old man. I would, I swear to it.

But he saved the worst news for last. The Imperials had also formed a blockade that meant that we were now without provision and reinforcement. Lookouts from the towers had seen multiple warehouses raided by Imperial troops, guided by locals as to where the supplies were and he had seen ships being attacked by Skelligan longships out to sea.

The news was so bad that we didn't believe it and we mounted an expedition to go and see what could be seen.

Twenty of us went. Twenty of us, mounted and armed. I took a couple of my better men who might see things that I would not as I have often found that… forgive me… common soldiers can sometimes see things that men like you and I might miss.

So we went and we looked and what we saw finished the process that had begun when we received that messenger and heard how the people around me, including me, could not believe that the people of Novigrad had started to rise against us.

I saw Novigrad and where there had, before our rebellion, been flags of Redania and Nilfgaard above those city walls. Now there was only black cloth and occasionally, the signs of a golden sunburst. We stood our horses there for a long time, just watching as the Imperials worked. More of our side were fleeing over the fields towards Coulthard castle and it was then that I started to realise what I was looking at.

The fleeing troops were running headlong. This was not an organised retreat which meant that there was no command structure. I saw the calm cavalry units of the Imperial light troops that were harrying those fleeing troops. Not making an effort to attack or destroy them.

There could be two reasons for that. One was that Nilfgaard did not have the proper troops to box up and destroy those fleeing troops, so they were just keeping those fleeing men moving. Another was that they wanted the fleeing troops to flee and spread panic in our ranks.

Either way, I looked at that cavalry action. I looked at the work that was obviously being done on the walls to prepare the city for some kind of assault. I looked at the organisation of the Imperial troops and I saw the people of the city working amongst the troops and then I looked at the group that I had ridden with.

I looked at the city and the fleeing soldiers… I use the term loosely of course and I looked at the men chasing them. All the fleeing soldiers would have had to do was to turn and stand their ground and there would have been nothing that the Imperials could have done.

But the Imperials knew that, which is why they were harrying in good order and with obvious discipline.

I looked at all of those things and I saw the difference between us and them. There were proper soldiers amongst us and I like to think I was one of them. Proper warriors, but we were utterly outclassed in every sense of the word.

I looked at my friends and colleagues and I knew that the adventure was over. I saw us for what we were. We were a bunch of petulant, spoiled children who refused to grow up. We were complaining that our parents had taken our toys away from us and told us that the time for childish things was past. I knew then that we could have been working to make this new Redania something that we… that I… could have been proud of, but in our childish arrogance we had longed for the glow of childish dreams.

As I looked around I saw us all for what we were. The glow of nostalgia and righteousness was finally torn from my eyes.

Or at least I thought it was. When I saw and heard what had happened at the castle and on the city streets I realised that I had much further to go

I had no intention of surrendering of course. Naturally, you play and you have to understand that sometimes you play and you lose.

But the certainty that we were right. The certainty that we could win the day.

I didn't know what had happened in Novigrad. But I knew if you understand me. I KNEW what had happened.

We had driven our people away from us and made them our enemies.

We were a far more subdued party as we rode back to our lines.

Lord Roche of the Blue Stripes and General Maxwell of Maecht commanded the retaking of the city from the rebellion and there is not much to say about it. They will not thank me for saying so but the two of them worked well together, even though they have almost nothing in common in the way of methods or personality. The only thing that they have in common was a distaste for talking to me about it. They are both the kind of military man that thinks "I did my duty" is an adequate response to the question "So exactly what happened during the battle?"

Lord Roche was in charge of the street-to-street fighting while General Maxwell directed the unloading and the offloading of the ships. He would send men to the right places to muster and analyse the battle reports coming from the front battle lines.

Helfdan and the Skelligans were part of the fighting and their task was to get through and link up with the cathedral guards of Temple Isle.

There was a lot of heroism in the battle of Novigrad. A lot of heroism and foolishness and most of both were on the side of the Rebellion. Brave men led hopeless charges against overwhelming odds, determined to win the day. Good and proud fighters held impossible positions far longer than they should have done. Many more were sent to their deaths to ensure that the so-called leadership could escape.

Roche's strategy was lightning strikes to take and hold the big strategic points. The gates and the major, defensible landmarks and after that, he just went from street to street. He had been instructed by the Empress to take prisoners where possible, for interrogation, morale purposes and also because it was clear that many of the common soldiers were ordered to rebel by their feudal masters. But he had also been instructed that there was not much time to "fuck about". The Empress wanted the matter dealt with and there would be no negotiation with the commanding officers.

They would either surrender or die fighting.

But in that fight and many of the others to come, there were relatively few prisoners taken. Few enough listened to the heralds and those that did were sceptical enough of Imperial mercy to believe that they would even receive the mercy of a quick death. So they chose to fight, even when told that it would mean the death of their families at home and the death of their men in the ranks.

Some of the common soldiery tried to surrender, but it was the lucky ones that made it to the Imperial lines. Their side would often be the ones to cut them down and if they survived that, then the citizenry's rage was difficult to ignore and those deaths make public execution seem kind in comparison.

Not that the body count outweighs the other that was inflicted on the citizenry. Kar wept as he told me about the piles of corpses in the market squares.

The command structure of the rebels essentially shattered when whatever chain of command there was took their personal, more elite troops and ran for it. The lucky troops of the rebellion were the ones that received the orders to hold their ground. The unlucky were the ones that received no word at all.

So it was a battle of caution. Every house needed to be checked. Every alley had to be guarded to flush out the saboteurs and "death or glory" attackers.

The lack of proper looking after of the corpses meant that the sewers were rammed with Necrophages and it was later proven certain that any rebellion troops that went into the sewers were doubtlessly lunch for a ghoul.

The city fell back into the hands of the Empire in a little over a day. Then there was another couple of days while the Empire consolidated its grip and that was it. Helfdan was left in charge, not least because as a sailor, his skills would be limited on land although he was promised that he could be there at the final battle along with the Skelligan warriors that he had brought. But also it meant that the Skelligans could police the city because none of them would be mistaken for either a traitor or a Nilfgaardian.

Their policing was brutal.

A curfew was ordered and the harshest penalties were instituted for any crime whatsoever. Helfdan and the Hierophant did little more in those few days than organise trials and witness hangings.

The priesthood started the mammoth task of dealing with the huge amount of corpses that the rebellion had left in its wake.

Many of the townsfolk were grieving though. They just stood and watched as the priests and the Skelligans worked.

All the time, more and more Imperial troops were disembarking from the ships in the bay and marshalling outside the city.

Scouts were sent out and the enemy positions were marked and there was some more direct warfare. There was fighting and there were losses on both sides. But without the promised and expected reinforcement from Novigrad's docks…?

Put brutally, the best military assessment that I heard was that for each death that the Rebellion suffered they needed to take ten men with them.

And that margin was far from existence.

If we're talking about pure numbers then yes it is true, more Imperial soldiers died than rebel soldiers did. And I will once again refer to Aleksy as to why that might be the case as well as an account of what is being called the battle of Oxenfurt. The problem is that the battle took place nowhere near Oxenfurt, it's just that Oxenfurt was the nearest landmark at the time.

There is a science to a retreat. Science and mathematics.

The conventional wisdom is that, quote, "Any attacker must have a 10 to 1 advantage when attacking a well-defended and fortified position."

That formula was based on plenty of experience and evidence and it has been proven to be true according to my experience, old cock.

The Empire and Count Bernier, in two separate engagements, sent far less to attack the river crossing and as such, the crossing could not be made. The difference between the two forces is that the Empire, back during the war, knew that they didn't have the numbers and so retreated to the point where they could guarantee supplies and were on solid ground.

Meaning that they weren't going to sink into the swamp.

The problem comes when your defence is not well-defended or well-fortified. The fall of Novigrad to your Imperial Forces is the best and most recent example. It simply didn't occur to people that there would be an attack by sea. Nor did it occur to us that the people of Novigrad would be so against us.

Of course, I know why that happened now. We were…

No, not we, my side… No, I don't like that either.

The men that took Novigrad in the name of the Rebellion…

Yes… I like that better.

The men that took Novigrad in the name of the Rebellion were drunk with their successes and power. So when they had the power they decided to use it and didn't know when to stop. So the worst elements of society then went on to use those excesses as an excuse and…

Flame.

I am still so angry about that old man. Nor can I be angry that you got away with so few casualties by using elements that you infiltrated inside the city, because we did the same thing.

I feel that we have got off-topic.

My side? You ask who I consider to be the people on my side.

That is a good question.

No… I know the answer. It is rather simple.

They were the men that stood with me to hold the river crossing.

It is easy to look back on the thing and consider what should have been done and condemn the actions that were taken as the actions of fools and madmen. And there was a lot of both. But it was at this point that it started to become clear that we were not led by men of experience and skill anymore.

Those men that were in command were the ones of the proper rank, meaning noble rank, not military rank. And some were given their position by how many men they had brought to the cause. But that meant that the battlefield and campaign experience of our commanders was all but nothing.

We were led by men that, during the war, had been guarding wagon trains, leading garrisons in out-of-the-way border forts and cities too far north to see any action.

Flame burn me for the fool that I am, old cock, but I hate those men. I hated them then and I hate them now. Men who claim to have fought for Redania who did nothing in the war other than march up and down. Men who only trained against troops that were terrified to fight back and would convince themselves that they were…

But after the fall of Novigrad, we made mistake after mistake after mistake. I'm not saying that we would have won if we had NOT made those mistakes, but we would have made you pay for your victories in blood rather than just handing you victory after victory.

What we should have done was to lay siege to Novigrad. We would never have taken the city but we would have kept you from coming out while your brother carried on with his rituals.

I mean, we now know that your brother was mad and the rituals that he was performing were not worth the cost, but at the time, that was what we were waiting for as over and over again we were told that his rituals would provide us victory. We should have taken proper action to delay the enemy, but we didn't. We sat there and watched as your side just did whatever it was that you needed, or wanted to do.

One of the rules of warfare is that if your enemy wants to do something, then you must make every effort to see to it that he cannot, or at least, finds it difficult.

Instead, the orders came and my boss, a man named Windham. Not of noble enough lineage to get a proper command, but he was a patriot and had sense. We were ordered to hold the river.

Our scouts watched as more and more Imperial troops came out of Novigrad and still, we were ordered to hold the river.

Other scouts from over the river returned to tell us that another, much larger force was coming up from the south and we were ordered to hold the river.

Finally, Windham received word that a detachment of Imperials was coming from Novigrad to clear the river crossings. There were no fortifications to stop them and they were well reinforced. So we faced annihilation from Novigrad if we stood our ground, or we could cross the river and find ourselves in Velen with all the problems that come with that and the upcoming armies from the south would smash us against the river.

We were the metal trapped between two hammers and there was no way that we would salvage our forces. We would either be killed, or taken prisoner to a man.

Windham, quite rightly, told the messenger to fuck the orders and we retreated down the river towards Oxenfurt. We only just made it too without being cut off.

Our commander in chief, who always seemed to be different people as orders came from different men every time we received a new order. At first, they were furious at us for abandoning our posts. Then someone realised that this meant that there were more troops to put in the field.

Then began the soldier's dance….

Oh, of course, I should have realised that you don't know it. Forgive me old cock, I just thought you would…

That's right, you served in Logistics and intelligence, didn't you? Can't deny that I feel much the same way about that as you did. Back then I looked down on your lot during the war. But now that I'm older and have more idea of the vital nature of Logistics. And also I've seen what happens with war when you are…

When you are on the wrong side.

Losing was bad enough when you are on the right side, but losing and knowing that you are the villain of the piece. I have to admit old man, I do not care for it at all.

I believed, and still believe in the cause of Redania, but… I would not have liked to live in the Redani that your brother wanted to build.

But I was talking about the dance of armies. It's boring, tedious, frustrating and utterly exhausting.

You march, and they march to counter your action. You march to try and anticipate the best possible response to that. Again, they march to counter you. You get ordered to a defensible position and you start to dig in. But then it turns out that the other side anticipated your decisions and has moved so that your formerly defensible position is no longer as defensible as it was and you need to retreat again to another position which would have been more defensible if you had gone straight there and started digging in rather than all the fucking about. But now you don't have enough time to do anything because the enemy is already coming over the hill so then again you must retreat. Always looking for a way to take the initiative back from the enemy.

My own opinion is that the rebellion was over when we lost the river crossing. Our ability to hold the river was essential to all the plans. But that is the knowledge that is bought with hindsight.

We marched and countermarched for far longer than we needed to. The enemy man was good but he was cautious. As well he might be. We still hoped that we could snatch a victory out of it if we had been able to properly bloody the Imperial forces, as that would have encouraged more people to help us. But not doing anything just gave them victory after victory.

We fell back and back and back. All the time Windham was sending messages back to the castle and Oxenfurt begging for reinforcement. We were smaller which meant that we moved faster as well and there were several times that if we had serious numbers, we could have HURT the Imperial Forces. Windham would be furious as we ate our rations.

"Where are the troops with the magical strength and speed that we were promised?" He would snarl into the night. "Where are the monsters that were supposed to be harrying them, destroying their wagon trains and keeping their sentries awake at night? Where are the holes that we can exploit and where is the magic that terrifies our enemies into submission?" We all commiserated with him and I asked those questions myself on more than one occasion.

But reinforcement never came. Only orders to move us further back.

And those messengers that we sent, when they would come back at all would come back pale and trembling with fear. I didn't speak to any of them. Windham accepted the messages and orders once and, being the reasonably adept leader and decent man that he was. He asked the messenger what the matter was.

The messenger told him and was stockaded for telling lies. Then the next messenger was interrogated and the first was released under orders not to tell anyone. Even so, there was no hiding the state of the countryside from the men by this point and rumours abounded.

Then came the news that Oxenfurt had surrendered into Imperial hands without a fight.

An interlude while I explain this.

Once again, it is worth reminding people that Oxenfurt is not built to withstand a siege. It can barely withstand being a city to tell you the truth. It is an island of mud and silt where a few ancient Elven buildings were built on the only stable bits. Oxenfurt was founded by scholars that wanted to study the buildings and by the artists that wanted to be inspired by the buildings. Then enterprising merchants and townsfolk erected tents and built houses to service these scholars and artists so over time, Oxenfurt was built and then it began to grow to the point that it started to outgrow the island that it was built on.

Masons are constantly having to rebuild houses and the city walls and all sorts of things to keep the city standing let alone being able to withstand a siege.

Aleksy's account of the rebel forces retreating from Novigrad rather tells the story accurately, even if he does write off some important history with a single line of speech

The Imperial army came up from the South. They waited until they had received the word that Novigrad had fallen and then with a display of logistical management and secrecy, the army moved out and headed North. The Empress wanted to lead the force but I'm told that her parents, meaning lord Geralt, Lady Yennefer and Lord Emhyr, essentially sat on her to prevent it. Instead, Lord Voorhis got his old armour out and led the efforts alongside Lord Natalis of Temeria. They made a lot of noise as they went but what that meant in real terms was that everyone…

And I do mean everyone.

… heard them coming, including the rebels. As Aleksy and his comrades left the river crossing behind, it was not long before a lighter armoured division of the force coming north was able to retake the crossing by simple virtue of just walking over it and meeting the force coming south from Novigrad to do the same. Now having that area taken, it meant that the Skelligan raider ships could get down the river, Imperial troops could reinforce the new garrison of Novigrad and help bring order there and the fight could be taken to the rebels properly.

They say that there is no greater praise that a warrior can receive except from an enemy and it would seem that one of the greatest sentiments among the Imperial forces is that the only military mind that the rebels had that was even remotely worth thinking about was General Windham that Aleksy speaks about. I can't find much about his service during the war and a lot of the places that I could go and look are now destroyed or the witnesses are dead or waiting for execution. Aleksy claimed to have heard of him before and been told that he was the kind of man who needed initiative. But he wasn't very politically minded, nor was his blood that noble.

But he led a blinding series of moves and counter-moves against the Imperial forces that were supposed to catch him.

They did not until he was ready for them but as I say, I will get to that.

A couple of officers have expressed the sentiment that if Windham had been properly supported then there would have been a far higher chance that something would have gone badly for the Imperial forces. Casualties would have been higher and… although they are confident that they would have won, it would have been more of a meat grinder.

So while Windham kept the Northern forces at bay, the Skelligans came down the river and started to erect temporary jetty's into the river to disembark troops further in land. Another crossing was constructed out of pontoon boats and Windham was forced further and further backwards.

In the end, Oxenfurt was surrounded.

For those that have never been to Oxenfurt, the city is on an island in the middle of the river. The river, by this point, is roughly flowing almost North-south, therefore there is an Eastern entrance which is how you get to my family's castle, and there is a western entrance which is how you get to Velen.

These are the descriptive points that I will be using for everyone's ease.

The Imperials from Temeria arrived on the Western bank first. Skelligan longships, far more capable of making the river navigation quickly, ferried the lumber and cargo needed and the Imperial forces started to construct their siege weapons. When those forces that were chasing Windham around had forced the avenue for troops on the other bank to be able to close off the Eastern bank of Oxenfurt, they did so.

I have spoken to some of the leaders of Oxenfurt about this event and I'm told that in the same way that there was an exodus of rebels that left Novigrad to escape the Imperial forces, there was a similar group of rebels that fled Oxenfurt towards the relative safety of Coulthard Castle.

Enough remained to hold Oxenfurt and the Imperial forces put forces on either bank of the river and just stood there.

The rebels, in the meantime, had made a few small efforts to fortify the city. They stood men on the walls and forced the citizenry into arms and armour. They had also spent some time sending conscripts to destroy the bridges with pickaxes and shovels. They were not as successful on that second part given that one bridge was an old elven bridge from before the land was settled by humans at all. And the other was an old dwarven bridge, often reinforced by the best engineers that the University can produce.

They damaged it some though and I wonder if they were feeling smug as they watched the Imperials line up.

The Imperials stood their ground. The Skelligans manned their ships and then, when the siege engines were ready, a watching Lord Voorhis gave a nod and a lone Imperial Herald left the lines on the Western bank. He was lightly armoured in contrast to the herald that had announced the rebellion at the gates of Oxenfurt what must have seemed like years before, and he carried a spear with a white cloth hanging from it. He walked his horse calmly to the end of the bridge where he dismounted and walked onto the bridge, calmly taking his time as though he was out for a stroll.

When he got to the point where the bridge was damaged he stopped and waited.

An armoured man met him. I wish I could find out who that was but there is no record of who it was and it is all but certain that he died shortly afterwards.

I did speak to the Herald though and he answered my questions with the kind of careful, factual responses that make for poor reading and frustrated scholars.

The rebel man was struggling in his armour. It was cold by this point and apparently, he was well-insulated in the armour which gave the unfortunate impression that he was fat. This was almost certainly unfair.

"I see you carry a white cloth." The rebel shouted. "Very well, I accept your surrender." According to the Herald, he seemed to think he was being very brave and witty when the truth is that this is a standard gambit and the Herald was unimpressed.

The herald smiled at the rebel and gestured towards the walls. He was close enough that he could see the people looking at him, just as they had all once looked at the huge knight that had announced the beginning of the rebellion. The Herald turned and indicated, with a large, sweeping gesture, the siege weapons. At that arranged signals, the trained siege engineers went to work around those engines like Endregas on a troll's corpse. There was militarised shouting. Flags were raised, ammunition was rolled into place, signal flags were lifted to signal readiness and the workers fell back, leaving one man next to each engine with a hammer, ready to fire.

The herald turned back to the city and then to the rebel before nodding.

"So?" demanded the rebel.

The herald apologised to Lord Voorhis when he returned to the Imperial lines. Why? Because he could not keep himself from smirking at the idiot rebel.

Lord Voorhis was magnanimous and simply didn't invite the herald to dine with him that evening. I don't know why but apparently, this is a terrible fate in the Imperial forces. A herald sometimes, not often but sometimes, does not come back from meetings like this. It is naturally bad manners to execute the messenger, but at the same time, when talking to rebels, bandits and other men that are using cruelty and their psychotic nature as tools? Sometimes, the life of a herald is a dangerous one and the tradition is that the herald dines with the officer, general or Noble that sent them upon their return.

The rebel in question did not understand what he had seen. But the people of Oxenfurt did. As I say, Oxenfurt is built on an island that is made almost completely out of River mud and silt. Some buildings are solid, but if you buy a house in Oxenfurt, you are signing up for a lottery as to whether or not the next rain storm will simply wash your house away.

The townsfolk know this and when it happens, the entire community comes together to help out the family that has lost their home and business.

When you bombard a castle or a city wall such as Novigrad or Vizima, you can expect a properly built wall to stand for days if not longer. There are houses and walls in Oxenfurt that, if struck with only a relatively small boulder, would collapse. That collapse could well start a chain reaction that sends the entire city into rubble. The people of Oxenfurt, as taught by the academics and the students of the university, realised this relatively quickly.

And the rebels had forced the townsfolk into weapons and armour to stand up to the Imperial forces. Some debate as to what started the fighting but commonly, the credit is given to a Bookbinder. He was one of those men that made his living by rebinding books that students have worn out. When the book has been read so much that the spine is cracked and the entire binding is about to fall off, you go to this man and his wife and they will rebind it for you. I may have used his services, myself, over the years.

According to witnesses he turned, levelled the spear he had been given and rammed it forward into the gut of the nearest rebel. He didn't do it properly but I doubt that he's upset or offended by that critique of his technique. We know this because he couldn't pull the spear out of the dying man's body despite putting his boot on the man and trying to heave it out. In the end, he gave up and drew a shorthand axe that he had been given and spat at the man before chopping it down into the rebel's neck. When he was sure that the rebel was dead, he spat again and screamed in the dead man's face that "I FUCKING LIVE HERE,".

Someone nearby followed his example and on it went. Oxenfurt surrendered to the Imperial forces less than a day after the herald had crossed the bridge. It was also our largest trove of prisoners given that many surrendered rather than be subject to the wrath of the people of Oxenfurt and a few more tried to escape and break out of the eastern gate towards safety.

The Imperials moved in and Oenfurt became the rearmost Headquarters of the Imperials while they advanced towards Coulthard Castle. It was also there that Lord Voorhis began to have some idea of the problems that he was up against.

The people of Oxenfurt were well aware of what was happening at Coulthard Castle. Where previously he had been able to dismiss the rantings of some of the captives that had been taken and the messages that had been sent to the south from the Northern Kingdoms, increasingly, this was no longer possible to ignore.

Orders were sent and Imperial Forces circled Coulthard Castle and advanced to take Flotsam. The Skelligans aided massively in this effort and as a result, there is now a permanent Skelligan presence there. Truth be told, it was not much of a battle as the rebels saw that they were outnumbered and retreated. Intelligence tells me that it is likely that the rebels that we are still having problems with are from this action.

Not that the Imperials did anything wrong. But it was impossible to encircle and therefore contain them. To encircle them would have taken longer than Lord Voorhis was willing to commit. The Empress had ordered him to get the job done and as such it was just important to secure that area to prevent too many people from escaping and to prevent supplies getting to Coulthard castle.

Before we get to the conclusion of Aleksy's account. It's also worth saying that it was at this time that a furious Empress was gated into the Redanian court by an equally irate, if somewhat smug, Lady Eilhart. At the time of writing, I have yet to meet Queen Regent Adda. Nor has there been a meeting of the Regency Council so, as yet, I have not taken up my duties.

If you would like to draw a comparison between the two, then far be it from me to argue.

But I am told that she played the situation perfectly. Whether she was speaking as a true and loyal servant of the Empire, or whether she was covering her own back to preserve her own life and the life of her son, then she could not have done so more perfectly.

She fell to her knees, sobbing in gratitude at the feet of the Empress, professing nothing but her most devout loyalty. The Empress took her in her arms and raised her before turning on the Lords of the Queen Regent's court and letting them have the full force of her fury. Lady Eilhart was given full authority to weed out the traitors in the court and that she would present her report to Lord Voorhis, The Queen Regent and the Empress.

In private, she was ordered not to act summarily, for which I am pleased but that bit was not added to the Empress' declaration in the courtroom. Many of those courtiers either knew of Lady Eilhart's reputation from the reign of Radovid or his Father. Or had been brought up with the tales of those efforts from their parents.

Back to Aleksy's account of the battle of Oxenfurt.

Well, there we were. We were retreating, always retreating. And it felt awful. We had been betrayed, old man and that's the thing that always galls in your bladder. We had been beaten and not a sword had been swung in that defeat. It was a similar feeling to the way we had been beaten by the Imperials the first time. We had been beaten and we had not had any say in the matter.

The only consolation was that in this case, we had been beaten by a better soldier. We were betrayed. We didn't know by whom and that resentment was one of the only things that kept us going. The anger that we felt as we sat around campfires and speculated as to who it might be that had messed us around and destroyed all of our efforts. Who was it?

It seemed ludicrous to us that Novigrad had fallen so easily so the most logical answer to that question was that we had been betrayed. We had no idea by whom but we told ourselves that when all of this was over, we intended to find out.

The ironic thing is that we guessed the right answer. We guessed that the soldiers that had taken Novigrad on our behalf had overindulged and as the people had risen against them, they had opened the gates, or whatever the naval equivalent of that was, to the Imperials.

But that excuse was too… too boring. Not least of the problems with that was that it portrayed US in a bad light. And by "us" I mean the rebellion and those folks that were working to bring down the Empire.

So instead, we dreamed up elaborate schemes and conspiracies and we promised ourselves vengeance when it came time to find out the truth.

But we were always retreating. We spent our nights in increasingly cold, increasingly wet and increasingly wintery camps. We whispered our anger so that we could hide from the riders going this way and that along the roads we had no idea who they were. Were they Imperial scouts, or were they our scouts who were looking for us to reinforce us? We had no way to know of course and as such… That left us in the dark. Afraid and trembling.

The thing you have to remember about the night, old man, is that it's black. And the thing that you have to remember about the armour of the Imperial soldiers and scouts was… that it was black. So we couldn't look out, we couldn't guess or hope that it was our side. We just hide and hope that we would find some sign in the morning that they were on our side rather than…

The other side.

We would arrive at our ordered position and Bailey, the leader of what we laughingly called our field engineers, would declare that he could hold through the frost if he was given enough time. Then we would receive orders to move on and leave the fortifications barely begun. Then the next location and the one after that.

I was there the night when an exhausted Bailey lost his temper at no one in particular and screamed at Windham that if we had just retreated to the third position in the first place, the blood, sweat and tears that he had pissed away in trying to fortify that hill with the old ruined manor house on top of it could have been spent here instead. Making it properly defensible. Windham was sympathetic but you don't let that sort of thing slide under military discipline do you?

Our morale was in the cesspit and I was not the only person wishing that some force of the enemy would just catch us and we could get it all over with.

Then we came to the ridge. I don't know if you know it, old man. It's… Oh, I don't know… Maybe half a day's ride from your castle and it was Windham's turn to lose his temper. Our gathered troops got to the ridge and climbed up the slope and stood there looking out. In the distance we could see the Oxenfurt tower and further to the South we could see a tower of smoke which we knew to be where Coulthard Castle was.

"Right then," Windham declared, rubbing his hands together. "Here. We offer battle here."

"Will they go around us?" Someone asked. There were maybe a dozen other Knights and even more hangers-on at that point.

"No," I remember saying. "They will not want to leave us out. If they go around us to get to the castle they would need to encircle us. And if they encircle us they run the risk of us breaking out. They could come at the flanks though?"

"That will be Bailey's job." Windham declared. "Both flanks Mister Bailey and I don't want horse or foot to be able to get to us that way. I want them to climb the ridge to get us."

"Yes, Lord." Bailey set off to shout for his shovel.

"Are we sure this is the spot?" Some idiot asked. Windham just glared at him.

This was another of our problems, old man. When a military superior gives an order you follow it? You don't question it, you don't second guess it. You nod, figure it out and then make your best effort to carry out those orders. The superior might be asking for an opinion and a good one will expect you to point out the flaws in their plans. But any man that cannot tell the difference between a request for opinion and advice, versus an order…

They have no business on a battlefield old man and I think you know that. Even though you're not a military… Or you weren't…

I know you served in your own way and anyone that says that you didn't… Well, they obviously didn't serve either. Not really.

But those people whose every decision is life or death…

Windham gave the idiot a glare. There were too many idiots in our ranks. Too many by a long way.

"If we go further, we are not enough to be of any use," Windham explained in the tones of a man keeping his temper. "We might as well just retreat to the castle and be done with it. At which point we are all subject to the commands of Kalayn and his cronies."

We had all developed a small distrust of your brother's assistants. We were fairly sure that although your brother had started this and had a good plan, he didn't know what he was doing on the battlefield. We had convinced ourselves that it wasn't his fault but that somewhere between us and him were men that only had their own self-interests at heart and as such, were not advising him properly.

Little did we know that he knew exactly what he was doing and viewed us all as expendable of course.

"There are other concerns," Windham went on, who is still my opinion of the best military mind that the rebellion had hold of.

"If we retreat to the castle, then we are only… however many more men that we have, as extra men to stand on walls and consume supplies while the Imperials lay siege. Out here… We have the initiative and can decide what we want to do and how we mean to fight the Black One. Dig in gentlemen. Here is where I mean to fight them unless I have orders to do otherwise. Gentlemen?"

That last was a signal and the few of us that it referred to knew who we were. We were the closest core group of officers and Knights. The real chain of command was that he knew who the men looked to for leadership. Who the other knights respected. We had a variety of names, old men. We were called the Ass-lickers by more than one of the sorry lot. But we knew our worth. Windham called us his aides and we would often be called to stay behind after the formal planning things were done for Windham to rant about how incompetent everyone else was and how furious he was that we weren't being used properly. He would also take this opportunity to tell us his battle plans and what he intended to do when it came time for the battle. This is so that people wouldn't make disastrous, indecisive mistakes when it came down to it.

I felt privileged to be in that group of men, old boy. It was an honour to be included as such.

There were four of us left by that point as others had been caught out or were still catching up with this or that. We didn't leave anyone behind, but there were still casualties. Small units that would realise they were being cut off with nothing they could do about it and so on.

There were even some desertions. Not many. Certainly not as many as were in other places that I knew of or have since heard rumour of. But there were some.

But none of us… None of the aides deserted, gave up or fled. We fought and we stayed till the end.

Sometimes I wish I hadn't seen that end.

"I am going to the castle," He told us. "I am going to demand to know where our reinforcements are or where they were. And I am going to tell them that if they had supported us, we could have bled the Imperials before they got anywhere near the castle. It would be THEM with low morale and already beaten before they came up against the trenches and the Flame knows what. I want to see what it's like there and to personally see whether or not they have the capability to hide these men because…"

He looked us each in the eyes.

"I for one would rather die with a sword in my hand and a horse between my legs than to starve to death in a siege."

We all nodded.

He took one of the others with him. The rest of us organised and bullied and cajoled and praised. We made speeches and told those soldiers that they were the cream of the Redanian army and that we were proud to serve alongside them.

Windham came back that evening and he was pale. He went into the general's tent that we had provided. A place where a general could watch the battlefield. We had reports ready for him to read. We wanted to brief him and let him know exactly how much we had in place to help fight the Empire.

And yes, we wanted the approval of our Father. For in an army, the general is the Father of us all. Armies are like families. Huge, wondrous, chaotic families. And the man in charge is the patriarch. I have never served with a female general but I am told that even under the command of Queen Calanthe, Queen Meve or Pretty Kitty, the General is still a Patriarch.

He wanted nothing to do with us.

We went to the other man that went with him, a man by the name of Kilian. He was a younger man, with a prodigious memory, who would follow Windham around to remember all the things that Windham would forget. He was younger, maybe sixteen or seventeen. Was the younger brother of… someone. I can't remember who it was. He was a good man as things went.

Windham went into the tent and Kilian took his horse off. We waited to make sure that Windham didn't need or want us, then there was some time where we made sure that the men who were here didn't need us and were not discouraged by the General's vanishing. Then two of us got together, collected the third and went to find Kilian.

We found him in his horse's stable. He was calm, there was no sobbing or anything but suddenly we were reminded of just how young he was.

"What happened?" One of my friends asked him. He had his head bowed against his horse. He turned and looked at us.

I swear old bean. There is a look that men get when they have seen things that you're not supposed to see. You have that look sometimes and I saw it in him then. He seemed startled and then he seemed to remember who we were.

"I tell you, boys," he began. He had to swallow a couple of times to get the words out. "I tell you now. Die here."

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"Die here. Die well and with a sword in your hand." He told me.

"I don't…" One of the others.

Killian grabbed him by the breastplate and pulled himself in.

"Die here." He hissed, desperately. "Die here and cleanly." He let go and then he sobbed. "But if you can't do that. Then I tell you, lads… I tell you." He shook his head. "If the choice is between retreating to that castle, or surrendering to the Empire. Choose the Empire. At least there, you will die clean."

I have no way of telling you old boy, no way of making you understand just how much of a statement that was. Kilian hated the Empire. He HATED them. His Father and brother had died on some battlefield I think and his Uncle had all but dispossessed him, marrying his mother and stealing all his land because he was too young and weak to inherit.

Obviously wanting his own heirs to inherit the noble title and lands and things.

Now you or I might think that the Uncle was the villain in that, and rightly so. But Kilian will have been… twelve, maybe thirteen when his Father died and he raged against the Empire for all the bad things that had happened in his life. He was a good lad. But for him to tell us to die at the hands of the Empire rather than fight for the Rebellion, or live to fight another day?

We sat him down and started to ask questions.

To my shame, I didn't believe him. It was only later when Windham backed him up that I began to realise that maybe, we were on the side of the bad guys in this story.

I remember it quite clearly.

We all filed into General Windham's tent. He was pale and his eyes were bloodshot at the time I remember thinking that if I didn't know better, I would have thought that he had been drinking.

Knowing what I know now, he had almost certainly been drinking, and I do not blame him for it.

Flame guide us my friend but what your brother and his cronies did…

He got us all in, not just his aides but all of us. The Knights, the officers and so on. He waited till we were all there and then he spent a bit of time looking each of us in the eye.

There weren't any tears in his eyes but there were not many of us that could meet his gaze.

"Here is where we fight them." He told us. "The order is that for every second that we can buy the people at the castle, the more certain their eventual victory will be. If we just fall back to the castle… there is not enough room, there is not enough supplies, medical, food and clean water, for us to be anything other than just another mouth to feed. All they need now to win and win decisively is time. And we are going to give it to them."

There was some general nodding but I could feel a hole in the pit of my stomach. A hole dug by growing knowledge and guilt as I realised that Kilian must have told us the truth about what he had seen. Windham wasn't weeping but I certainly wanted to. I resolved that before I died, I would see to it that Kilian heard my apology.

"We are going to give the people in the castle the time they need and we are going to bloody the nose of the Empire. We are going to fight. We will put fear in the hearts of the Imperial troops and we are going to put anger and courage into the hearts of the men defending the castle. The Empire will know that they have been in a battle by the time we are done with them. If any of you wish to flee then feel free to do so…"

There was a chorus of negative noises but the General held his hands up.

"We are surrounded by the Imperials on each side now and they are coming for the castle. Even if you flee, you will be in the hands of the Empire and it might even be true that the people of the castle will be forced to turn us away. But at this moment, at this end, I want the people beside me to be the people that WANT… That NEEDS to be here. So if men want to go and try to return to their families, then let them. That's all."

"I know the spirit of the men, sir…" One of the Knights called. A man called Trestav who I didn't like as he could be pedantic and fancied himself a little bit too much of a man of the people. Couldn't fault his courage though. "And they will be determined to fight to the last."

There was some determined murmuring in the group. I even suspect that some of them were still a little confident that they could snatch a victory out of the jaws of defeat.

Windham nodded and dismissed everyone.

He caught our eyes, the aides amongst us and we stayed behind.

He reached into his trunk and laid out some cups before us before pouring some good brandy into each of them. We exchanged glances with each other as I don't think some of us had realised quite what was going on. He had often shown us that bottle of brandy and told us that he was keeping it for our eventual victory. He passed the brandy out to us all and waited until we had all had a good sniff and a good roll around of the cup in our hands. I think he was waiting for the realisation to hit all of us in the face.

"First of all," he said quietly, "I think by now that you should all realise that you all owe young Kilian an apology."

I made sure that I was the first to walk over to Kilian who still looked very pale and very young and I took him by the hand. His lips were trembling as he looked at me.

The others looked in askance at me. Another one of us got it, and the third understood later.

"I should also tell you gentlemen that, for the first time in my life, I am disobeying the orders that I have been given."

This was new and I carefully set the brandy aside so that I could pay attention.

"We are ordered back to the castle to aid in the defence. Our men are to make themselves available to be part of the upgrading process that Lord Kalayn is advocating to bolster our forces and we are to make ourselves part of the defence. I am disobeying those orders. Have no fear, I will tell you why."

There was a wry chuckle from one or two of us, including me.

"Leaving aside the disrespect that they paid us, the scorn that was heaped on us… Every man there thought that they could do a better job than we have done and every single man there was among the first to flee Novigrad and seek the shelter of Coulthard Castle. Leaving aside the fact that I would rather bow my head NOW to the whore-bitch Empress than I would serve alongside those execrable excuses for soldiers… Fortunately, Lord Kalayn seems to know all of this and is well aware of who he can trust and who he can't… But leaving that aside…"

He shook his head.

"I tell you, gentlemen, I have been to Coulthard castle before. I doubt that Lord Kalayn will remember me as I was but a lowly aide to someone who was attending upon the King when he went to remind Lord Coulthard to who Lord Coulthard owed fealty.

"I remember when I saw the castle and the lands around it that, although I understood the importance of our mission, I thought that people were taking the wrong approach with Lord Coulthard. As I looked around his lands and met his people, I began to think it possible that he knew something that we didn't. And when I saw Castle Coulthard itself… I remember thinking that we would be in a much better position if more of the castles of Redania were kept up to that standard.

"Then I met the man himself and recognised his bitterness for what it was and the work on his land for the raised middle finger towards the King that Lord Coulthard had made it.

"This time, as I went to Castle Coulthard and I looked at it I thought that it was grotesque. I thought of the Lord Coulthard in his castle and I knew that, even though he did the things he did out of bitterness, he would have been appalled at what I saw.

"Militarily, it is now a terrifying structure. But that is not the thing that haunted my dreams last night or flashes before my eyes in unguarded moments.

"It will be the pens of people that are kept in the courtyards and the fields where they are in danger of freezing to death. It will be the huge, grotesquely muscled men that carry logs and boulders into place that it would take three men to do the same. Mindless brutes they are, drooling and soiling themselves even as they wield huge broadswords that they drag behind them. It will be the sight of grinning men raping and torturing captives, jeered on by their friends. It will be the pall of smoke that hangs over the place. It will be the groom with the broken leg, staring at me with vacant eyes where his mind has been driven from him by pain and exhaustion.

"It will be the screaming woman with blood flowing from black eyes that floats around the place, surrounded by red smoke as she moves, this way and that way, almost faster than the eye can see as she looks for victims that she can take.

"It will be the piles of bodies that they simply haven't got around to and can't be bothered to burn. And to my horror, these were not just captives. There were men in that pile that wore the colours of Redania in those piles as well. Desiccated corpses that look like withered old husks of people and when I enquired about who those people were, I was told that they were necessary sacrifices.

"And lastly, there were the vampires. It is one thing to know that you are going to be fighting alongside monsters and then there is another thing that happens when you see those monsters in person. Huge, batlike things that were hanging off the walls. Slim female shapes with hardened skin and muscles that were feasting from the open stomach wounds of a dead girl.

"I tell you, my friends… I tell you now. That I believe in Redania. I will die for Redania but I will not die for that Redania. I will not go back to that place and let them… let them turn our men… Men that have bled and killed for this rebellion already. Men that have already fought and killed more Imperial soldiers and Temerian scum than any of those imbeciles back at the castle can even dream of. I will not put them in the hands of that… whatever it was and I will not have their lives thrown away on the altar of those men's ambitions. I don't care how well those… grotesque… things fight.

"Given the choice between having those men die here, in the cause that I believe in, cleanly at the end of an Imperial lance or otherwise. Rather than on the altar of…

"Flame preserves us my friends but what have we become? I wanted to serve Redania but Redania is not that. It is NOT… that."

There was some muttering and we shifted around a bit, not looking at each other.

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"We fight." Windham seemed to shake himself. "Yes… we fight. We pretend that what I said to all of those men is true. That we are ordered to delay the Imperials with everything that we can manage. We fight and we die for the Redania that we believe in. Believe me, boys, if it hadn't been for the fact that I knew that Kilian could not hide this from you. Believe me that I very nearly allowed you all to keep your illusions.

"But in this case. I wanted people to know…"

He sighed and sat down.

"The chances of all of us dying on the battlefield is slim. Do not retreat, do not surrender and we might mean it, but the Imperials are good soldiers and good men. I do not hate them nearly as much as I hate the Temerian filth that sold us to them those years ago. They may decide to take prisoners and there is nothing that we could do to stop them if they put their minds to it. And it is almost certain that they have infiltrated us and know that the four of you, and I, are the leaders here

"So I am telling you this so that when you see them, or I see them, then you can tell them what I told you. Tell them that we die for Redania. But what is happening at Coulthard Castle, what I am certain happened in Novigrad and probably Oxenfurt too… That was not the Redania that we fought for. We die for the Redania of our dreams and when your time comes if they let you live, which I doubt, but if they do, then work for Redania as it should have been. And if you are taken to the block, know that you fought for Redania and that you fought with honour.

"Unlike those pukes back at the castle… Oh, how I curse them.

"But when you get to the block, go well. Shake the headsman by the hand and when invited to speak your final words, tell the world that you condemn those horrors, but that you die for Redania. Let those be your last words and know that I will be there to meet you as we walk, together, towards wherever the Eternal Flame will guide us."

He lifted his cup in a toast and one by one we joined him.

"For Redania," was the toast. We drank and then we went to do our duty.

Then we waited.

It was tricky, old cock. Keeping the men satisfied and hungry over that period. You can't just tell everyone to wait and then trust that that's what they're going to do. You have to do things to keep their spirits up. So we played games, we told stories and we reminded each other of exactly why it was that we were doing these things. Why we hated the Empire with such a violent and all-consuming passion. We did it deliberately. We worked at it. And then, in the end, we just sat and waited.

One thing that I want you to note down old boy is that we had the best scouts. I swear that General Voorhis couldn't take a fart without us knowing about it. Not that he ever did. I met him and he rather had the look of a man that had had his backside sewn shut so that he could say that he never farted.

I didn't like him.

I certainly wouldn't have followed him into battle.

But that was on the last day, the day before the battle. We knew that enemy troops were encircling Coulthard Castle. Even though for those of us in the know, the line between enemy and opposition troops was becoming increasingly blurred, we knew that the siege of Coulthard Castle was being invested as we sat around with our thumbs up our asses.

And then we watched as the Empire started to file into place in front of us. They took a long time over it too. Really taking their fucking time to march into place and start to hack down trees to make shields and construct ladders and things for the eventual siege.

I know why they did it. The science of the mind is compelling indeed and that was what they were doing. They knew that it would cost them to wipe out our last, insolent little force and they didn't want to do it. And when I say "cost" I don't just mean in lives. Arrows and crossbow bolts cost money after all.

So we watched as they lined up. We sharpened weapons, checked and maintained armour and… yes… and we prayed. I didn't necessarily pray to the Eternal Flame either. I prayed to Redania. I prayed that I would die well and that when my time came I would do as Windham ordered. I would do as Radovid would have done.

Help me do that won't you old cock. I know that you and I fought on different sides on this and I will admit that were my time given to me again, I might have done things differently but all the same…. I still hate the Empire and I still hate what Redania has become so I don't think that you or I would have been friends back then. But we might be friends now. Will you help me when the time comes? I want to be able to lay my head on the block and for them to not need to tie me. Will you be there?

Glad of you old boy. Glad for you.

So the Empire marched into place and I knew that it was going to come down to it when the banner of your General Voorhis came into view. He just turned up and as I watched him, the cold-hearted bastard just examined his lines as though it was a dreadful bore for him to be there. As though all of this generalling was beneath him and that he had better things to do.

And knock me down with a feather as we could visibly see those men preen, puff out their chests and stand even further to attention than they had before.

I don't understand that old cock. I don't

But he rode out with a few others, one of them had a white flag.

Naturally, we went to meet him and that was how I met General Voorhis.

I remember someone telling me… It might even have been in your diaries old boy, that at one stage there was a question of whether or not that man loved the Empress and intended to marry her. Well, I wouldn't marry him. Dead-eyed, slimy, fishy-looking kind of man. Made me shudder just to look at him. It was the way he looked at us as though we were already dead. As though he didn't care if he died or if everyone he knew died.

As I say, he was a cold bastard. I didn't like him.

I suppose he does his duty, the same as anyone, but I didn't like him.

He stared at us for a moment and as I looked into his eyes I remember shivering. I was not the only one either according to my fellows.

"Surrender," he said quietly. "I can promise you that your deaths, when the time comes, will be clean and that the lives of your men will be saved. After their arms and armour have been stockpiled, they will be taken from here to a camp, south of here, where they will stay until this matter is decided. After that, they will be released to go home to where they should have been all this time."

"And where is that?" One of my fellows asked.

"Collecting the harvest," Voorhis said. "As it is, this rebellion is going to cause yet another famine that the North can ill afford. One of those things that you all forgot when you declared this foolish little rebellion."

I won't lie, old mucker, that one struck home in my heart.

"A man does not think clearly when he is reaching for freedom." Windham declared.

"Maybe not," Voorhis agreed with a slight smile. It was a courtier's smile, not a warrior's smile and I disliked him even more. "Nevertheless, you are all guilty of treason. The terms that I offer are generous and you all know that. You are guilty of treason and a quick death is the most merciful thing that I can do for you. Take the offer, and save the lives of your men. Let this be an end to it."

"Treason?" Windham asked. "Treason? How can I be guilty of treason when Nilfgaard is foreign to me?"

For a moment I thought I saw the mask slip from Voorhis' face and I saw a cold fury behind his eyes. Then he covered it with an emotion that I didn't recognise.

"It never ceases to amuse me that this is the argument that rebels make, every time that someone does it. You are not the first person that has made that argument, in some cases you are not the first person to make that argument to my face in identical circumstances to this. Fortunately, in this case, it is far easier to counter the argument."

His horse reacted to his feeling by shifting underneath him.

"We will start with the fact that this time, the Empress is one of your own. She was a Princess of Cintra before she was the Empress. There are numerous witnesses and signed declarations that have been given under magical and religious portents that she is the princess of Cintra. If she wasn't the Empress of Nilfgaard she would sit the throne of Cintra…

At least."

That last was said with a flat stare.

"She also has a claim to several other duchies, and Kingdoms, several of which would be considered "Northern". Now the counter to that argument from Northern folk is that now that she is an Empress of Nilfgaard she is no longer Northern. And that is the argument of a fanatic. So I will allow you that one.

"Nor will I point out the peace that the Empire brought to your lands. The order, the law and the settled nature of things. Northerners can travel to the learning centres of the south while the Northern Universities like Oxenfurt are still recovering from the privations of zealous men who do not understand that learning is only a benefit and not something to be afraid of.

"The North has been fighting against itself for so long that they forget the benefits of peace and it would only be so long before one of you grew strong enough to conquer their neighbours. There has been war as long as any of you can remember. Even when it was not with the South, Aedirn has fought Kaedwen and Temeria has argued with Redania and so on and so on. Is it not true that you actively hate Temeria more than you hate us?"

I had no answer to that. There were some uncomfortable truths there.

"So I will not argue that point."

His tone had been conversational while his eyes had remained cold and hard. But now he let a sliver of anger into his voice. I never got the knack of using your voice like that which is why my sister was sent to court and I was sent to the army.

"But no man, who has walked through Novigrad since we LIBERATED it from your hands. No man has walked through Oxenfurt or listened to the stories of men, women and other non-humans. No man who has read the reports of what is happening at Coulthard Castle even as we sit here and you keep me from going and putting an end to it. No man who has looked at what you have done TO YOUR OWN PEOPLE WOULD DESCRIBE THAT AS ANYTHING OTHER THAN TREASON."

His face turned purple from his sudden rage and the spittle splattered from his lips as he screamed that last.

"I love my country," he began after a long moment. "Just as I am sure that you must love yours. I have been proud to carry the Golden Sunburst onto battlefields here and there and I have been proud to serve the Empress and the Emperor before her. And in all that time, I will admit that I have seen some horrific things and I have done some horrific things. But the stories I have been told and the things that I have seen were done, to your people, by your side and you were doing them before your side and mine even met on the battlefield.

"What you are doing is treason. The courtiers will claim that what you are doing is treason against Nilfgaard. But what soldiers like you know, what the men and women of the gods and the people on the streets and everyone else will know, is that you are traitors against Redania and your people.

"I am a courtier. I rose high enough and I was born high enough to be both soldier and courtier. Just as some priests are courtiers too. And good men must learn to spot the difference. You are a soldier sir, I know who you are. You are on the wrong side of this and now it is time to leave it."

He peered at us all in turn. And just as with Windham, I could not meet his gaze as in that moment, I saw that he was right.

"You all know it too," Voorhis decided. "There is a reason why you are out here and not at the castle. There is a reason you are not fighting on the walls there and that you weren't inside the city at Novigrad. You know what is happening there and you cannot join them, nor can you bring yourselves to surrender."

"We cannot," Windham said, his voice shaking.

"Very well." Voorhis nodded before turning to his own aides. "Mark these men well gentlemen. If any survive, they will dine with me before they move towards their captivity. We have finally found some honourable foes."

They saluted. Voorhis nodded to Windham who nodded back.

We waited as we watched Voorhis return to his lines. One or two of the aides split off from the general's party to join their own companies.

Windham waited for a while with his head bowed.

"What happens now?" Kilian asked.

"We go back to our lines and when we get there, he will order the attack. We will be pelted with bolts and arrows and then he will mount an attack. He will not charge, he will just advance while we wait at the top of the ridge."

"Coward." Muttered one of them."

"No," Windham sighed. "He is no coward. If Radovid was served by more men like that instead of Dijkstra and the rest. Then we would have won."

"I still don't like him," I said.

"No," Windham agreed. "He strikes me as a difficult man to like."

"What do we do then?" Kilian asked.

The General laughed.

"The only thing we can do son," he said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. "We charge."

And so we did.

We waited for as long as we could but the sheer weight of fire from the bows and crossbows meant that we were losing men at a rate that was not sustainable. Voorhis did indeed advance and then, when we could not wait any longer. Windham ordered the charge.

We did well that day But not so well that the Imperials were delayed more than a few hours.

I fought on foot with my men as it seemed churlish to fight from horseback. I remember being overwhelmed, my better armour meant that I survived longer than most but sooner or later, the weight of numbers pulled me down. I woke up in an Imperial Medical tent with my arm in a sling and a headache that felt as though the maces and the war hammers were still raining blows down on my helmet.

I did indeed dine at Voorhis' table. I was welcomed by the other officers and if I closed my eyes and just listened to the talk, I would not have known the difference between their company and the company of my friends.

Voorhis was there and he ate quietly before retiring early. I won't say that I dined with him but the point was well made. You know the rest, old boy."

And I do. The battle of Oxenfurt was bigger than Aleksy's account might imply. But it largely happened as Aleky suggested. The Imperials rained down arrows and bolts onto the rebel focus which reduced their number. The Imperial Infantry advanced in good order under the arrowfire of what was left of the rebel archers. And when the Imperials approached the ridge and the ditch before it along with the stakes that had been erected started to break the enemy formations, then the rebels charged.

Voorhis calls it a pointless waste of life and the simplest battlefield he has ever commanded. But crucially, he told me that it was also a tragedy. He said that he understood Windham and why he did what he did and chose his end the way that he did.

And in turn, it was also the only place where the Rebel dead were treated with respect. Priests were brought from Novigrad to lay the dead to rest and a monument was raised listing the names of the confirmed fallen. Voorhis has asked me to maintain that monument as the only monument to the rebellion and I intend to do so. And when Aleksy dies, I will personally pay for the smith to carve his name alongside those others that fell there.

I would do it myself but I lack the left arm to hold the chisel. That causes me no small amount of pain.

There are ongoing delays to the work.

And this is the first time that I have had to wield the sword of my duty against enemies. It was not easy and I hope, with all of my heart, that I will not have to do it again. Even though I know that such a hope is naive and that when the time comes again, as it will, then I must be cold, hard and ruthless.

There are times when I have enjoyed the duty that the Empress has lain upon my shoulders. But there are other times when I wish that she had given that duty to others and unfortunately, it means that I must leap ahead in the story. After the fall of my brother, many efforts were made by many men to divide Coulthard lands and the lands around it, up amongst themselves.

Nobles that have looked at my Father's and my sister's works and rather than put the work in themselves, they decided to take that land for themselves at the point of a sword.

These efforts have not stopped.

What has happened is that, at first, people gave me some time to settle in and then they tried to undermine my rule. There were raids on my borders and raids into the lands of my neighbours, an effort that I understand from Intelligence is called a "false flag" operation. I keep forgetting to ask him what the origin of that term is. Presumably, it's from the fact that the forces in question raised someone else's flags above their forces.

But anyway, people have been raiding and killing when they should be preparing for the planting and the harvest to come.

Those lords that, essentially, raided their lands using Coulthard colours, complained most devoutly to the Empress and the Queen Regent, not checking with me. They used all the old lines that courtiers have been saying about my family and me for years. About how the role of Duke should have been given to someone of proper experience with the right noble background.

The messages were sent suspiciously quickly after the raids, meaning that the noble in question didn't even bother to investigate. Intelligence's scorn was considerable. He told me that such a ploy needs more time to work. He laid out an extended plan as to how he would do it if it had been he that had been setting such a thing up. He talked about friendly meetings with me, insistence and then demands for action before the matter should have been taken up with the Queen and the Empress.

He was also amused that the person in question didn't realise, or had misunderstood the fact that I answer to the Empress, not the Queen Regent of Redania.

Who I still haven't met by the way. Queen Anais and I have started by getting on quite well.

The Empress read the demands for action, and sent it back to me with a little note on the bottom saying "Deal with this would you?"

Fortunately, I was already on the case.

Another thing that my adversaries had forgotten is that the Captain of my guard was trained by one of the best anti-raiders on the continent. Indeed, many of the bastards that formed the model and the foundation of my growing guard under Knight Captain Padraig were thieves and bandits themselves before Rickard took them in and gave them what passed for honest work. Intelligence and Padraig had already seen the raids for what they were and didn't do much more than tell me what was going on and that they were pursuing it.

A couple of weeks later they came in for another meeting and told me that I could write to the Empress and tell them that I was in the process of solving the matter. They explained what was happening and I remember nodding before staring into space for a while.

"So what do I do?" I asked the room full of advisors.

"This is not the last time that this is going to happen." Intelligence told me. "Others are watching to see how you respond. You cannot afford the luxury of being merciful."

"Put them down," Padraig said forcefully. "The bastard was raiding his own people in our name and raiding ours accordingly. I agree with Intelligence."

"The people deserve better from their lords." Mother Iona told me. "Be uncompromising with the men. You must be harsh with the wife but let her live…"

I raised my hand for quiet.

"No, I understand that," I told them all. "I more meant… 'how', I mean I have an army now. Do I send them to do it or do I just send Padraig and a hundred men to arrest the bastard?"

"If you send the army, that might suggest insecurity." Captain Price is one of my military advisors. I have a number of them now.

"Act as though you expect to be obeyed." Intelligence nodded. "Bear in mind that if he refuses your order then he is in active rebellion. Invite him and his family to Coulthard castle to… Oh, I don't know…" He waved his hand in the air vaguely. "Discuss the raiding and matters regarding the future. I can write the message if you like and I will make it seem as though you need his help or are asking for his advice or something."

Iona laughed. "A man like that, his ego will not permit him to refuse such an invitation."

"Then I will lead men to take his home out from under him," Padraig said. I got the feeling that this plan had already been made before I got involved.

I took a deep breath.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked.

"Nothing," Intelligence said. "I can arrest the fucker, or one of the officers can or… whoever. But you should be just treating it as any other day. Then order his execution for treason, of which he is guilty. Have it done somewhere quiet where he can't make a big gesture and again, just don't turn up. It will insult him and will send the right message."

"You should be the one that speaks to the wife though," Iona added. "Be firm with her. You should travel with Padraig's men and then go and talk to the wife. She might be the one behind it all, or she might be an innocent along for the ride."

I nodded, feeling a bit sick as I realised I was about to order a man to death.

"Is there…" I cleared my throat. "Is there a standard execution method?" I wondered.

"The Emperor liked to have people pressed or torn apart by horses." Intelligence sniffed. "Personally, a good old-fashioned drawing and quartering will do. He will complain that he is noble and should die by the sword and again, that sends the right message. He should die a peasant's death."

"I don't like that word." I snapped. "Sorry,"

Intelligence smiled gently. "The first one is hard." He told me.

"I have killed men before…"

"In fights." He told me. "This is different. It's not even a murder." He unfolded his legs. "You are sending others to do your murdering for you. It should sit wrong."

I nodded and looked up at him and Padraig. I glanced at Carys and Captain Price and then finally at Iona. They all nodded.

"So ordered," I told them.

They started to leave.

"Iona wait." I began and she stopped. I waited for the others to leave the pavilion. "I thought you would argue for mercy?" I asked.

"He is killing farmers and wives and children and livestock for greed. Even his people." She shook her head. "My mercy is for the people that he terrorises."

I nodded, unable to hide my unhappiness.

"Shall I send Father Anchor to you?" She asked.

I nodded.

"Yes please," I told her.

How I miss them, Kerrass, Rickard… Ariadne.

In the end, the plan went off without event. Intelligence's assessment of the matter was that they genuinely didn't realise that we would move so quickly. I wanted to call it a surprise. Intelligence called it something else.

"Laziness," he told me with a smile. "When people implement plans like this one they believe that the plan is going to work. It doesn't occur to them that the plan won't work otherwise they wouldn't do it. If this lord… whateverhisnameis had actually thought, for one moment, that the plan would be difficult, he wouldn't have bothered.

"I guarantee it. That's the difference, the real difference between those men that attain their positions and then stay there, and those that rise to become powerful. Men like you, they wonder if a plan will work. If they think there is a possibility that it wouldn't work then they would come up with a plan to make sure that it will work. They gather knowledgeable people around themselves to work on the plan. They ask themselves what might go wrong and how they can circumvent that plan and if one of those people tells you that there is a problem with the plan and it shouldn't be implemented at all. You ask for an alternative.

"I don't know for sure, although I will find out, I would be willing to bet money that this man had the idea or one of his cronies had the idea and took it to him. After that, they didn't think it through, they just implemented the plan. They probably thought they were being clever and decisive. It didn't occur to them that the entire thing wouldn't work and anyone who suggested that there might be problems with the plan would have been laughed at. That's the difference between people like you and this man."

"You mean, I asked for the advice of Professionals. Kerrass would be pleased."

"Yes, but it's not just that. It's not just that you ask the advice of professionals. It's knowing that the professionals are there for that purpose and then trusting them. It's that extra step. You surround yourself with professionals to answer those questions for you. It's why your followers love you. You respect them. And I may say, it was not just your Witcher friend that taught you that skill. You have been learning about leadership from some of the best teachers on the continent."

He wasn't drawn further on the subject.

As I say, the plan went without incident. There weren't even any men lost on either side. Other than the pending ones from the trial of course. The Lord's escort was surrounded and arrested by one of the Imperial officers and I am told he went quietly, protesting his innocence. The fact that he didn't ask what he was innocent of was interesting.

Likewise, Padraig turned up at the castle gates with a good number of men and demanded entry in my name. He took the place, searched it, marched off the armed troops, stockpiled the weapons and confined the prisoners which were the Lord's wife and senior servants.

Although my mobility is much improved, I still walk with an odd gait, not entirely smoothly. Apparently, it looks like I am a sailor after a long voyage.

So I was announced and walked into the hall. The lady of the manor rose to meet me from where she had been sitting in her husband's chair. She had made every effort to be intimidating and powerful in that hall. It might have worked too if it wasn't for the fact that I was well aware of every trick that she was using and therefore didn't care that much.

And I was angry. Regular readers will know the kind of angry I was. The kind where my mouth starts speaking and will not stop, ignoring the workings of the brain as it did so.

"How dare you," she demanded as her first gambit. I was forced to admit that she was not a bad-looking woman. A little bit prim and proper for my taste, there was no relaxation about her. Her clothing was impeccable for the kind of woman and station that she was. She made me think of a statue or some kind of painting of a "courtly, noble woman."

She was wearing a wimple.

"How dare you march into my home and detain my household?" She went on. "Especially when my husband is not home."

I caught the eye of one of the guards and gave one of my signals. Specifically, the one that says that I would like a drink. I have a couple of these now. It started off as non-verbal signals that I could give to my secretary to say that my guests and I would need to have something to drink, something to eat or that I needed an interruption of something vital so that I could get out of the meeting that I was in. It has progressed from there to include things like "Send for the people who should be dealing with this nonsense please," to "Could you get some to come in here and be all belligerent so that I can appear like the nice person," and "Send in the guards to have this cretin taken away. Or me taken away. I don't care which." I was horrified to learn that the signals have been picked up on by many of my advisors and their use is starting to spread.

"When my husband hears of this…" She was saying as the guard brought me a jug of wine and a cup. I sniffed it and poured myself a cup.

"Your husband," I interrupted as I sat down and poured myself a drink. "Is currently under arrest for assault, murder and treason. I mean, there are other things as well but those are the main ones. Hey, this is quite good."

It was too and I began to see where the idiot lord spent most of his money.

I looked around the hall and decided that it was dingy and stuffy and needed some air and more light.

"The proof is pretty certain and I have already ordered his execution," I told her. "The only thing we have yet to decide is if anyone needs to join him at the block. His method of execution will depend on how awkward he is while we ask him questions."

"You…" She sat down, "You can't do that."

"The Empress disagrees." I told her, "I have the right to protect my lands and also, should my neighbours prove to be unlawful or persecuting their people, I have the duty to the Imperial throne as well as the thrones of Temeria and Redania to protect those people. As your husband was victimising his people as part of his ploy, I not only can do this. I must do this."

"I…" She was frowning, thinking furiously if I'm any judge. "I beg for mercy. My husband is a weak man and easily led by…"

I waved my hand.

"Your husband dies, Madam," I told her. "My mercy is that I am giving you a choice."

"What choice?" She demanded. "I bow to a tyrant like you?"

I laughed at her.

"Did your husband teach you those words?" I asked her. "Or did someone else? But yes as a matter of fact."

I fought with myself for a moment. I wanted people to like me and that included this hard-eyed, withdrawn young woman. I wanted to be merciful.

"Your choices are threefold. You may join your husband on the block. I will arrange a quick death if you do. I will say that if it comes to light that you were involved in his activities then that choice will be removed and that is what will happen."

"And my other choices?" She asked quietly.

"You can retire to an abbey. Your lands will be assigned where I wish. I have some small influence in the churches and I will have you sent to a place where you can serve the community, or live in quiet contemplation whichever you prefer. But your exile there will be permanent."

"I see. Is there another choice?"

"Or you can stay here. I believe that women can rule just as well as men can as there are numerous examples on the continent now. You will marry who I say you will marry and you will answer to my sister on matters of governance and revenue. I will give you an advisor to advise you on other aspects."

"To keep me you mean?"

"If you like," I told her cheerfully, rising back to my feet. "You are young, your lands are not without beauty and I would imagine you could be charming if you wish for it. I would suggest that you do not throw your life away for a cretin."

"He was a cretin," She agreed musing with the first hint of a smile. "You are an unmarried Lord. Might your sister order me to marry you?" Her expression was suddenly hopeful and hungry.

I laughed again.

"If I may be so bold," I told her, "You should not proposition someone who you have shouted "How dare you" at."

She sighed, shrugged and nodded to that. I told her that Emma would be in touch after her husband's death to set some things up. It turned out that the land was her ancestral land and that she had been the heir anyway so that solved a lot of problems. She had liked her husband but not loved him. She told me that she had not enjoyed trying for an heir but she was not offended when I asked if that would be a problem for the future.

"I don't think so," she mused. "Just, find me a husband that isn't duller than cowpats and has more realistic ambitions please."

I liked her, but I would not marry her, or want her anywhere near me to be truthful. She struck me as the kind of woman where marriage would be a contest.

If Kerrass can't find Ariadne… It will be a long time before I am ready to discuss such matters anyway. He has vanished from view and I am trying not to expect the worst. We had a good report of him for some time as he headed North and North East into the mountains. It had sounded like he had found a trail and was following it closely but then he had vanished from view. I am concerned. I work to take my mind away from the possibility that the woman I love has killed my best friend when he tried to force the matter.

Emma gets worse every day and is sinking deeper and deeper into a depression. She is only herself now when she is working. Laurelen tells me that the pair of them are looking at moving into the dower house. Emma barely leaves the office in the Novigrad residence now. She shakes and weeps when she tries to leave the room. When she's working she is as strong and dynamic as ever. But otherwise, my sister is a ghost of her former self. It breaks my heart to see her but Laurelen insists that I see her regularly as it seems to help her.

And there is always the business of the realm to discuss with her. But anytime there is a question of how I am doing or how she is doing, she clams up, she becomes pale.

Her doctors and mine are advising patience and love and that is what I will give her until the Eternal Frost comes for us all.

I'm sorry. A few things have gotten on top of me now. I will stop here.

I have this dreadful feeling that things are becoming normal and routine. My friends are drifting back towards their own lives. Helfdan, having handed over his duties in Novigrad to his replacement in the civil authority, had to head back to Skellige. He was quite Helfdan about it when he told me that he had a wedding to prepare for. I hope I kept the pain from my voice and face as I told him that I was looking forward to being there, but I saw Svein wince at the comments. He sailed off from the docks of Oxenfurt in almost a mirror to the time when he and his men sailed to the docks to celebrate my stag party.

Likewise, the Toussaint group returned home to their duties. Lady Yennefer expressed disappointment with my work rate on our ongoing scholarly work, even while she admitted to knowledge that it would be increasingly hard for me to "get down to it" with all of my other duties. But she admonished me to keep at it. I tried to pick up some of the work and read through it and I felt the stirrings of old excitement stirring in my chest.

And then I burst into tears.

I had found myself wanting to discuss the matter with Ariadne.

Guillaume, Vivienne, Gregoire and Anne all extracted promises that I would visit soon, which I will have to anyway before they all departed through the transport gate that Lady Yennefer summoned. I would not keep them from their duties.

But I miss them all. There is no one left that is friends with me. Everyone remembers Frederick Coulthard, the younger son of Baron von Coulthard. The one that no one expected anything of. I can feel them all looking at me and thinking "Would never have guessed what he would become". Then they realise, see me looking and turn away in shame.

Or they are people that have come to me because of my newfound power. They want things and I can feel them wondering exactly how much more small talk they have to sit through before they can feel comfortable asking me for a favour. Or bring up this latest report that requires my attention.

Even when there is nothing there and they are just sincerely trying to be nice to me or to keep me company. I can feel those things, even when they are not there.

I am beginning to feel lonely. It has been suggested by more than one person that I find a lover. But I can't bring myself to think along those lines. Not yet. And to be honest, I dread the day when I look at a woman and don't immediately think "Ariadne, the woman I love, is more beautiful."

I know that there is a day coming that I must set that aside. I cannot be the Lord Coulthard and not be married and produce an heir. The Empress made her views on the matter clear when I spoke to her last before she too headed back South.

"If People are going to yell at me about producing an heir," she began with a gently mocking, if sad, smile. "Then you can be damn sure that I am going to yell at you. One of the most powerful Lords of the North cannot be without a wife or children."

"The position of Duke is not hereditary," I argued.

"For now," she muttered darkly and teasingly. "And even if it isn't, the position of Lord Coulthard is."

General Voorhis, back to being Lord Voorhis of Imperial Intelligence was in the room and he caught my pleading look before shrugging.

I feel wretched.

People are writing to me, demanding that I make finding Ariadne my priority. They want the happy ending of me taking her in my arms and then everything is right in the world again. Nothing would make me feel better than if I could do precisely that.

But she doesn't want to be found. If she did, she would have been found by now. And if we do find her, what if she is not the woman I remember?

Flame help me.

One by one the rebellion's lines of support were falling. Novigrad, Oxenfurt and Flotsam were retaken by the Imperial forces with only the rebellious forces in Novigrad putting up much of a fight and I think that even they would admit that it wasn't much of a fight. They were taken completely by surprise from within and without and they were overwhelmed and destroyed before they even really knew what was happening. They had simply not realised that it was possible that they could be attacked from the sea and even if it did, they had shrugged and believed in the myth that Novigrad was unassailable from the sea.

Until their wanton cruelty to their people, as well as the sailing genius of Jarl Helfdan, proved them wrong.

But those three bastions falling meant that they had no way of getting further supplies. No new reinforcements of material were able to get to them and so they fell back and they fell back and there was nothing that they could do about it.

The general retreat began with the fall of Novigrad and that sucked the spirit of the Rebellion out of most of them. That was the lynchpin of their plan and as such, they lost heart.

Imperial Intelligence was also in the courtrooms of Tretogor and the other Redanian courtrooms which meant that any noble that might want to support the rebellion were too terrified to move. Lord Voorhis' subordinates were walking around grinning at everyone and given that the Queen was desperately trying to prove to a furious Empress that she was loyal, those men that were caught could not appeal to the Queen's mercy. Those Lords that might have had any sympathy, or had lent troops or supplies to the effort? They died horribly.

So Coulthard castle stood alone, with Imperial Forces closing in around them on all sides.

"They were terrified Freddie," Laurelen told me.

Several times, men were caught trying to escape and desert and everyone got really really angry about that. Heads started to roll and because the soldiers and guards started to become afraid, they needed an outlet for that fear and I'm afraid that their easiest and closest outlet was the prisoners in the castle.

Sometimes I am ashamed of the fact that I was safe. I remember lying on my cot in what your brother called my "guest quarters" and I remember crying with guilt and relief that I was not there for the soldiers and guards to take out their frustrations and fear out on. I hate that part of myself a little bit and I don't mind admitting it.

Emma was safe too as your brother was convinced that the family wealth would finance the next parts of his plans and I think that you were both too far gone as well as Sam being so determined that you were going to be his successor….

Oh yes. That was true. Whatever other lies he was telling you, at least that was true. He would tell us, tell us all over and over again, that what he meant to do was to secure the North and hand it all over to you. Whether he was telling himself that, or his followers that or the rest of us that. Whether he was trying to explain away his evil or justify himself or… whatever was going on. That was one of the constants.

But people were becoming more and more afraid as the Imperial retribution was getting closer and closer and closer. And as it did so the prisoners became more determined in their little efforts towards rebellion and as the guards and the soldiers cracked down on them harder, the prisoners only became more determined.

Things were already pretty bleak in the castle as Sam would insist, over and over again he was just determined that all they needed to do was to play for time.

"Time," he would say. "We just need more time. The more time we have, the more total our victory will be." I remember you commenting that he would say the same to you as well and as far as he ever seemed to tell us, that was the truth. Time was what he needed.

I think it was Sir Trystan, the man that you spoke to and recounted in your writings. No, I'm not sure about how you spell it either.

(Freddie: Trystan… which is the correct spelling no matter what might have been written elsewhere, came from a noble family in the North of Redania. He was a true believer in Redania, brought up by true believers in the supremacy of Redania. He believed that Radovid was a holy warrior that could do no wrong and who was destined to carry the flaming sword of the Eternal Flame into the far reaches of the Continent and carry that light and safety to the unbeliever.

Charitably speaking, he never stood a chance. His Father was a member of the Order of the Flaming Rose who died as part of some holy crusade before the uprising and when the Flaming Rose was still seen as quite a heroic order for the children of the North to aspire towards.

Trystan's father was a younger son of a Count and so he instilled in his sons similar politics. In turn, when the last war against the South and Kaedwen took place, Sir Trystan was the designated survivor who was kept at home so that should disaster befall the family in general, at least there would be a male heir around who would be able to carry on the family name.

They were the kind of family who were always seen at the front of the battle and the point of the charge. Always the first to volunteer and the last to leave the field. But contrary to storybooks, their courage did not guarantee survival and in turn, the decision to keep a spare son at home would turn out to be a necessary one.

Trystan's mother was also a proud Redanian and she would bestow upon the remaining son all the love and affection that she would have given the other sons, but she also taught him all the ideals, including chivalry, religion and the supremacy of the Redanian people.

And he was taught that good men will do whatever it takes to ensure that Redania will survive, no matter what the cost.

The woman killed herself when news came back that the rest of her family had been killed. Trystan had married a good, flame-fearing woman of Redania. I have not met her, nor do I intend to. As the wife of a traitor, she begged for and received permission for, mercy so that she could attend an abbey as a nun towards the Eternal Flame. The abbey that they chose is one devoted to silent and remote contemplation. I have no idea where it is and I do not intend to look. The pair had no children as, according to his wife's questioning, Sir Trystan was too busy running around trying to save Redania and being tied up in the ideals of what Redania used to be. She would often be told that they would try for a family when Redania had been restored to its former glory.

I have read the transcripts and the lady comes across as being rather sad and bitter about the entire thing. Yet another life that this rebellion has wasted.)

But I think it was Trystan who said that if the men were too terrified, or morale was too low, then the garrison of the castle would simply fold and the entire thing would fall apart. He said that if time was necessary then at the moment, and as it stood, if the Imperials assaulted the fortifications, then they would simply have to walk up to the gates and ask to be let in.

"They need confidence," he would say and people would nod.

So your brother grinned, and then he gave them confidence. Not for the first time, I wondered if this too, had been part of his plan.

It was one of those meetings that Ariadne had been in. She was wearing an illusion at that point. I could tell later she would go back to her normal appearance. But she was wearing a sinister black dress with a veil. I know that she wouldn't traditionally use such a thing so I wondered…

But he nodded to her and she nodded, leaving the meeting with a sweeping movement, her dress fanning out behind her.

And the long-promised monsters joined the soldiers on the walls, and in the field of battle. They had been there for a while of course. We all knew that and there were stories about prisoners that were thrown to the Fleders, the Plumards and the Garkains that Ariadne had been forced to summon and help the rebellion. They had spent their time roosting around the castle like giant gargoyles. Once, when I was out in the surrounding area, I turned to look at the castle and it seemed to me that the top of the keep seemed to move with the wind. I also knew that they had been responsible for some of the intelligence that we… that the rebellion had received regarding the troop movements of the Empire.

But now they were sent into battle. They stood on the walls and patrolled the countryside.

Patrolled… Hah.

But that was not the only thing that happened. It was no longer just volunteers that went into the pits to be augmented by the awful rituals. Soldiers would be dragged from their beds. I think it was even considered a punishment now. If you didn't follow orders or if you were seen to be lazy, if someone had heard that you intended to desert, or if your Sergeant or knight simply decided that they didn't like you. Then you went into the pits.

The same thing happened to the common folk. Those people that had been told that if they worked hard and continued with what they were told… This was proven to be the falsehood that it was. And instead, soldiers augmented and vampires would burst into the cages and the cells and just drag those prisoners from their beds and carry them down into the basement so that their blood can be used to fuel the horror and the darkness.

I can still hear the screams as they were carried down there. Still, as I lie at night and hold your sister as she sobs after her own nightmares.

The castle was an awful place then.

I remember you too. I remember seeing you being carried around. A skeleton, a shade of yourself with your feet and hand bound up with bandages that stank of the vileness that was being carried through your blood. I remember men leaning down and slapping you before laughing at the fact that you couldn't do anything about it. I remember them leaning down and telling you that when your brother died and had placed you on the throne, you should still remember that the man slapping you was the man that had done so and that they would not fear you. They said that you would be King in name only.

I saw them drop their trousers and piss on your face. I saw them beat your already dead legs with sticks and all I could do was heal the infections when it became clear that they were close to killing you. And even then I saw your hair fall out and your skin become…

You look better now, much better. You have been healed by the best magical and mundane healing that the Empire can provide but sometimes, I blink and I see the wreck of a human being that they turned you into.

Powers preserve us, but it was awful.

For the record, I remember none of that. I have tried as this was not the first time she told me those things. We have to find the right balance between her telling me these things and then we force the conversation onto happier things.

There are not many of those.

I have tried to remember that time. I seem to remember it not being that bad and as though I could just live with it. I try to remember and other witnesses have expressed similar memories. But I can't remember. If I try to force myself then I become upset.

Father Anchor has advised me to stop trying. And that maybe my mind is trying to protect me from something.

Not a pleasant thought.

So the Imperials began to surround the castle and properly invest the siege. To the generals and the people involved and running the siege, the end was now a foregone conclusion. They knew what was going to happen. There would be a couple of attempts at an assault and if that didn't succeed, then they would settle in for a long siege. The best analysts of the Imperial ranks suggested that the defence would not hold out long. They had a rough idea of the number of people that were inside the castle, defenders and suchlike. They had a report on how much extra the augmented humans would consume and also a theory on how much the prisoners in the castle would eat and drink during the coming siege. Putting all that together with the knowledge that was provided by Padraig and Carys as well as knowledge from the food wholesalers in Oxenfurt that provided food for the family. There was an equation done as to how much food could still be stored inside the castle and as such, they reasoned that the castle could last until early spring.

There were no other armies to come and relieve the castle. No political pressure could be added on. There were no known tunnels and ways for food to get into the castle itself and there was more than a small political argument to be made about forcing the occupants of the castle to surrender rather than allowing themselves to be killed and become martyrs towards Redanian freedom.

Which would happen? Even despite the horrors that had been committed in their name. There would be people in decades to come who would, and maybe still will, hold up the defence of Coulthard Castle as the last stand of the true patriots of Redania. I hope not and should I have any successors then I hope that they will be among the first to stand in the way of those fuckers that might argue for that.

But I'm getting emotional again and that is not the kind of thing that will help anyone.

If the castle surrendered, then prisoners would be taken. There could be trials, confessions and witnesses that could go in and properly see what had taken place inside the castle. And when all that had been done, there could be some very public executions.

It might sound as though the Imperial strategy was cold, and it was, but it was also, in theory, the most compassionate response. It was a cold and methodical compassion that was dreamed up by someone with an abacus and a whole lot of parchment. But there it was.

Remember Thierry, my Imperial Strategist. I asked him to explain this strategy to me as though I was an angry five-year-old. He smiled a little condescendingly and in the same way as Mother used to when she didn't think that she had the time to put it to me properly. Or she didn't have the proper knowledge herself.

Or if she thought that the question was stupid which, looking back, both might have been true more often than not and also, was the most common answer.

There are several factors to think of here and I'm afraid, brutal though the response might be to someone caught on the wrong side of the equation, it all comes down to numbers.

No battle is complete without loss. Leaving aside the political ramifications for a second.

The equation runs like this.

Dealing with the prisoners first. The rebels were not going to start killing prisoners out of hand to preserve their food stocks. The rebels would be forced to negotiate long before it came to that point. And that is because the prisoners were their hostages. If they just started to kill the prisoners then they knew that we would just assault as fast and as hard as they feared and overwhelm them.

So we were as confident as we could be that the prisoners were safe. And forgive me. The important prisoners were safe. It is true, sadly, that life has value and that value shifts according to the circumstance. A farmer's life is not as important as a nobleman such as yourself. There are always more farmers. They might need to be moved from other parts of the Empire but there are always more farmers. Whereas Lord Frederick Coulthard is an important man.

Whether as a prisoner or as a man that is being rescued.

Yes, we had reports that you were against the entire thing, but that would need to be confirmed.

So it was true that part of the equation was that some of the prisoners would die in an assault. But it would not be the important ones and therefore, that number was put into the equation.

After that, the defensive fortifications were considerable. The best military tacticians tell me that, even before your brother's modifications, Coulthard Castle is one of the most formidable fortifications in Redania. Beginning to be a little old-fashioned in certain areas which I understand you are taking steps to address given your rebuilding efforts, but it would still have been considered formidable for some decades to come, even if you had not been taking steps.

We knew that the castle's war machines were well sited and were made up with the best material that your Father's money could buy. So our tacticians went to the castle, had a look at all the ditches and defences that your brother's slave labour was able to dig and erect and we were able to draw maps.

Credit where credit is due, despite the magical protections that were erected around the castle, there were still ways that a mage on the ground was able to see. The protections, I'm told, protected from distance scrying but a mage, up close and personal and just extending their sight… I understand that the term is "telescopically", there was no protection against that.

So I need to give credit to the magical corps for the quality of the maps that we were given.

So then, the generals and the tacticians all went into a tent to give the Commander-in-chief of the besieging forces, their estimate of what it would take to take the castle and how many Imperial lives would be lost in the storming of the place.

That is not just a simple case of coming up with a number. The assessment needs to be fluid enough to answer shifts in the Generals questions and thinking as well as the undeniable political equations. Those factors are not taken into account with the tactical estimates of course, but we must be able to roll with the punches when the General asks questions.

There will be questions asked in a meeting like that. Questions like "If we assault, is there any possibility that some men might break out and if so, how many people will get out. To those people that are in the habit of watching the rebellions against the Empire, that is one of the biggest fears. If they get out and go on to form some form of guerrilla force against us, becoming little more than bandits, then the cost of such an operation to hunt them all down is another thing that will be measured against the cost of the assault.

I do not doubt that the political equation is also a potent one. I'm not a political strategist but it is not hard to think of some of the questions. A delay looks weak versus the potential loss will look as though the ordering general is being bloodthirsty.

All of that goes into that meeting and then the general makes their decision.

As I say, normally, it goes into a couple of assaults to see if the people defending the walls are paper and straw men. The old strategy of stuffing uniforms with straw and tying them to the wall, or doing the same thing with the corpses of dead men to draw an attacker's fire. There is also the question that, maybe the defenders are ready to break.

In this case, maybe the defenders are being forced to be there and as soon as they see attacking people coming over the walls they will throw their weapons aside and allow themselves to be taken to end whatever torment that they were under. Or even better, they will turn on our mutual enemies and help us.

That is quite an optimistic assessment of what was going to happen.

Or maybe the defenders are sick of working for their foolish lords and their morale is fragile and open to just shattering at a moment's notice.

And maybe the fortifications that look so formidable at a distance, are just made out of thin sheets of wood. Maybe they have no ammunition for the bows and crossbows or the equally impressive defensive siege engines.

Or maybe the opposite is true. They know that we are scouting them, so maybe some of their more impressive defences are hidden in some way. Including magically hidden.

So that is why the first assaults are made.

I have spoken to generals that hate siege warfare because it takes all the initiative out of the battlefields. Siege-warfare… If you are the defender, then sooner or later you are reduced to just reacting to whatever it is that the attackers are going to do. You can site your defences as well as you can, but at the end of the day, sooner or later there is only so much you can do before you have to get ready to defend the ground that you have.

For the attacker, all you can try and do is minimise your losses while knowing that sooner or later the fortress must be taken.

You cannot march and counter-march. You cannot use clever tricks of false charges and feints on the battlefield. You can keep things hidden but not so hidden that they don't, eventually have to give themselves away.

There is no cleverness to such a thing and so those military people that like to think of themselves as being clever, they don't like it.

I like the simplicity of it. While also being, in the distant back of my mind, aware of just how horrific that statement is.

So you make your assaults and then the general and his staff get into their command tent and get to work regarding where to attack and how much that attack will cost. Thus working out just where the point is that it becomes more expedient to order the assault versus continuing the siege.

That's why they call it the tipping point.

I know that the Empress wanted the matter done and dusted sooner rather than later. But I also know that the Empress wanted to preserve as many lives as possible. Both your life and the life of your treacherous brother who she wanted to have killed publically and painfully.

She is a woman that is well aware of the balancing points.

So matters were well underway in the direction that we thought they were going to go. When of course, the factor that we didn't expect to go wrong, went wrong.

We are Southerners. Education, science and knowledge trump superstition and fear. So many of our people just didn't believe in Vampires. So… they had not bothered to research what they could do.

Which is how they took us completely by surprise.

All things told it could have gone a lot worse.

It went badly enough that more than one Imperial commander recommended that the best thing that the Imperial Forces could do was to withdraw.

One of the elements that was missed out from the Imperial assessment as to what could be added to the mathematical equation as to when an assault could be organised. Was when the Vampires were going to get hungry. Even then, it was more than a little bit likely that they would have been dismissed as being given prisoners or something else to eat.

That was those that believed that Vampires existed at all rather than just being figments of the Northern Imagination.

So the conspirators at the castle, deciding that they had this powerful force just lying around finally decided to use them. That night, as the circle was closing around the castle and the soldiers were either bedding down for the night or getting ready to guard the troops against any surprise dawn raids or breakout attempts from within the castle itself, the Vampires attacked.

In the same way that the taking of Novigrad had taken the Rebels completely by surprise, this attack took the Imperials completely by surprise in turn. Surviving sentries describe a sound like the flapping of Bats' wings followed by, "screams that buffeted at the ears like a gale force wind and then the Vampires were in amongst them. The survivors describe lithe, heavily muscled women with claws for hands, walking naked amongst the troops with blood running freely from their mouths as they killed and killed. They moved like connoisseurs amongst the feast, looking for the choicest scraps.

This is compared with the far more animalistic forms of the Fleders and the Garkain that would just tear a person apart before feeding on the people that were there.

One soldier who wanted to remain nameless told me…

It was a strange milord. They acted like animals but there was an underlying fury underneath. It was really hard to describe it but they were sullen as they went about it. The thing was…

Right.

Milord this is going to sound strange but bear with me.

My Father used to run the Kennels for (Deleted) and I stayed nearby to watch them and help handle them when they were taken out on a hunt by someone or another. There were other packs of course and when they were all hunting you could tell the badly trained packs from the well-trained packs. Me da could always whistle and our pack would come running back. He took pride in it.

But some packs were made up of the wrong kind of dog. Lords would want their packs to be the most fearsome and most terrifying around and so they would want them to be frightening. They would want them to look like wolves and the problem there is that those packs that are bred to look like wolves also tend to be slightly more clever than is strictly speaking necessary. And so when they were ordered towards the chase, there was sometimes an air of those packs looking at the handlers with a feeling of "Why? What have you done for me lately?"

In turn, those handlers would starve the packs beforehand so that they would look particularly terrifying and suitably slathering to appeal to the appetites of the Noblemen that were watching. Then they would all say things like "My word, the hounds are hungry for the hunt today aren't they."

I hated those fuckers milord but then I have four older brothers and the only job I could get as a master of hounds was for one of those guys.

But then one of those packs would be let off the leashes and we would watch as those hounds would chase down the whatever. They would slaughter it horribly and they would always be looking at the handler that had trained them to do that and to the Lord who had decreed that this was the kind of dog that he wanted in his kennels and they would always have this look in their eyes. There would always be this look that kind of suggested "I would rather this was you."

That was what they reminded me of Milord. They were angry milord. Angry and sullen and although they were pleased at being given the food that they were given, they would much rather it be someone else that they were feasting in. There was also a sense of relief, that they were out of the kennels. Another feeling that I had. From those hounds that were bred and trained to be ferocious and angry. They were kept in tight, unpleasant and dirty kennels.

These… beasts had been unleashed from their Kennels. They were hungry and tore at the food that they had been given. They were pleased to be free but they resented the fact that they knew they were going to go back and they would much rather feast on the flesh of those that had sent them.

There was a lot of disquieting imagery in that statement.

Although it does strike true from those other survivors that had been there and also those leaders that had carried word of the massacre.

Some people are trying to change the term that we are using to describe what happened. Some want to call it a battle to shift the blame away from those Imperial Generals and leaders that had not caught up with that. The word battle suggests men lining up to face each other in a charge and with a certain amount of honour and the Imperials don't like to believe that their soldiers would be taken advantage of in that way. Calling it a massacre suggests that the Imperials were taken completely off guard and that they could not mount a defence.

Which they couldn't.

And there are also people in the Greater Empire that refuse to believe that Vampires exist, let alone were involved. So they prefer the term "battle".

The other people that prefer the term battle are those Redanians that are, already, trying to paint Sam's actions as less than the horrific acts that they were. They don't want to believe that the Rebels set "a bunch of monsters" onto their fellow humans. They want to believe that the rebels were good, flame-fearing men who fought with truth and justice on their side and that the only reason that they lost was because certain jealous factions didn't want to permit their victory.

So the harnessing of the monstrous element is beyond their ability to be pleased with. They want to call it a "battle" because they want to believe that the rebels would never stoop so low as to carry out that kind of massacre.

But it was a massacre. It could be argued that it was a clever massacre and that there were thought and tactics behind it, but it was a massacre and many of those soldiers died horrible deaths. Truly horrible deaths.

And so, Sam's tactics started to become clear.

"We were mystified," Thiery told me.

Absolutely mystified. It was inconceivable that a besieged garrison would not use an opportunity like that, to break out of the encircling forces. The rebel victory that night was total and absolute. They could have opened the castle gates and just walked out through the gap in the lines that the Vampires had smashed for them. And that is what was absolutely expected.

After scouts had returned to tell us what was happening and the rest of our troops had been pulled back to prevent them all from getting caught up in the massacre, we were already making plans to pack up the camps and move back into a position of pursuit. We would have left a contingent of the army behind to keep an eye on Coulthard Castle to ascertain the losses and to make lists of the fallen and the missing. We wanted to find out what was going on. But the rest of us would be packing up and heading out into the world in pursuit of the fleeing rebel army.

So I wonder if you can imagine what happened when we all woke up in the morning to see that new flag of Redania flying over the castle ramparts and saw men, and those monstrous shapes of Vampires, patrolling the walls. We were horrified and dismayed because what that meant was that we had no idea what they were going to do next.

The army fell well back and reinforcements were called up. The military mages started to try and come up with ways that you could counter a Vampire attack and we were making plans for a longer, but also shorter siege.

The tipping point had changed. It had moved. On the one hand, we knew that if we assaulted we would incur more losses than we had previously guessed. But on the other hand, knowing that those monsters would need feeding sooner rather than later meant that, provided we could prevent them from feeding on US, then we could wait them out. They would feed on the rebel forces and we didn't need to wait.

So that was the plan. We were in the middle of these calculations when… I remember it very distinctly. One of the military mages looked up from the list of calculations he was making and his eyes were unfocused. I was standing opposite him checking his maths and he just looked up and stared into space for a moment. Then he nodded.

"We are needed at the command tent," he told us.

It was the strangest thing. One of the officers in charge of us all asked why and the mage in question…

He was a… we called him a calculator. I understand that what was going on was that he had contacts that he could communicate with telepathically all around the continent. Those contacts were experts in their field and if there was a question that none of us knew the answer to, he would just contact the person in question and get an answer. Even complicated mathematical equations and he could find someone that either already knew the answer, or could figure it out faster than we could.

His real talent was being able to keep all those voices separate in his head without getting confused between them all.

He was as peaceful a man as ever you could meet. His passion was finding a problem that no one of his people could answer and he enjoyed setting them all riddles.

But he ignored the question and when the officer physically stopped him, he turned and walloped the officer in the nose. The Knight fell, more out of shock than any kind of pain I think.

Heh. Fun times in the logistics tent.

But we were all summoned and we found the Lord General, the senior staff and many of the senior knights and officers. Some of them were in their night clothes as they had been dragged from their beds after having stood the night watch.

We were standing in the middle of the circle and all of us, including the Lord General, were confused as to what happened when there was a green flash and the Empress stepped out of the air looking wild. Then there was a strange swirling mist and out popped the kind of woman that you dream about, followed by another and another of these women that you only dream about in fevers of one form or another.

I only knew two of them by reputation. Lady's Eilhart and Yennefer. There were two others that I didn't recognise.

(Freddie: It was Lady Margarita and Lady Vigo.)

And after we were all done bowing, we all looked at each other.

"Prepare the attack." The Empress snapped. I was close enough that I saw the Lord General's eyes narrow. The cost of such an attack would have been overwhelming and he knew it. But he could see that the Empress also knew it. After she issued that order she turned on the Lord General. She called his name and then five of the most formidable women on the continent led the most powerful military minds on the continent into the general's tent.

I have what happened in there from several different sources. None of them wanted to go on the record enough that I would be allowed to quote them. Lord Voorhis barely had to restrain himself from physically laughing at me when it all came up and the suggestion that I might be allowed to recount what he had said on the matter seemed to be amusing to him.

Likewise, The Empress told me what had happened. She felt guilty that she had left our rescue so late but she had been told that she couldn't get involved and she understood exactly why that was the case I understood enough that she was probably right and that I couldn't get too angry about it.

Lady Yennefer's involvement was not much. She was brought in by Lady Eilhart precisely because the two of them are known to not be friendly with each other. She was asked to examine the findings that the Sorceresses and the Mages had come up with and were there, essentially, checking the magical equivalent of the equations to see if the other Sorceresses had completely lost the plot.

They hadn't.

So in short, the four women were chosen accordingly. Lady Eilhart had realised what was happening. She was one of the mages that were probing the castle, looking for gaps that could be exploited by all of the military minds. In doing that she had started to realise that a pattern was forming in the way that "the flows of magic were coming together to provide the relevant power to the spells that Ariadne, herself, had woven."

And that was one of the more understandable things that she had said.

She had extrapolated some of those movements together and had been alarmed enough by what she saw to call in Lady Vigo to help her come up with some kind of model so that they could work out what was happening. It turns out that Lady Vigo's speciality is in long-term magic, like the famous land of fables that her Uncle wove. She is more of a generalist, it is true, but she is also fascinated by rituals and long-term, long-range spell casting which means that the effects of the magic can take place over a longer period.

Working together, they found something alarming to them and started to have an idea of the magic that Sam was weaving together. They called in a number of the other members of the Chapter of Mages and the Lodge of Sorceresses to work on the problem, leaving Lady Yennefer out so that Yennefer could act as an alternative thinker.

When they had a good idea of what was going on, they called in Lady Yennefer and Lady Merigold to shoot down their theories. A necessary but always contentious process. When it was described to me it sounded like an academic viva where a student presents their findings and then the professors must find ways to dissect the findings to see whether or not the student had done the proper amount of work or not.

In this case, the workers were up against Lady Yennefer, Lady Merigold, Lord Ermion and Lady Margarita. The panel made an effort to argue against the findings of Lady Eilhart's team but whatever the truth of the matter, it was rather clear that not only was "something" happening in Coulthard Castle, but that the "something" in question was potentially extremely dangerous. They contacted the Empress and the Empress decided that the assault needed to happen sooner rather than later.

They all went into the General's tent and made their case. According to Yennefer, Lady Eilhart had made the same presentation four times according to her knowledge. Once to Yennefer in private. Once to the panel of critics, once to the Empress and once more to General Voorhis' senior staff. It was a measure of the urgency of Lady Eilhart's thinking that she did not complain about the wasted time in her going over the same things over and over and over again.

The decision was a tough one as there was no easy way for this to be done. It was just going to be a case of hurling as many men against the walls as they could and hoping that they could get through. There was no guarantee that anything could happen or even a guarantee that the assault was going to be successful. But on the back of Lady Eilhart's discoveries and the further findings of the Lodge of Sorceresses. The Imperial Army moved into place.

It was a bleak moment. Even among the Logistics and strategy divisions. We didn't have… There was nothing else for it. There was no… We could choose to send this group or this specialised unit against this particular set of walls, or that particular gate. We had intelligence on what the layout of the inner courtyards was, but we could not be sure that the buildings or the layouts hadn't been changed. So there was nothing else that could be done. All we could was move things into place and prepare for things.

We were reduced to moving regiments. Who decamped when and who moved in what order. Again, far more complicated and artistic than can easily be explained to the layman that has not had to do these kinds of things before but even so… And we were doing it all on the strength of the words of some Northern Harlots who don't know how to dress properly.

Leaving Thierry's opinions to himself. There were indeed some concerns that the intelligence was possibly faulty coming, as it did, from the Northern Mages who already had a reputation for treachery and unpleasantness, especially against the Southern Factions.

But the Empress believed them and so the army jumped to do the things that they needed to do. And it was in that tent, where they started to come up with the wheres and means of carrying out this order that the Empress had made that Kerrass finally acted and spoke up.

I have permission from Lady Yennefer to put her voice down here.

I can understand Voorhis' dismay. Your family's castle was and will be again, a formidable thing. The morale of his army had been shattered by the Assault of the Vampires and now he was having to, not only order them into a castle assault where there hadn't been time to open or bombard a breach into the walls, but also into close combat against monsters that they had already fought against, and lost. And remember that the augmented troops had not been fought against yet. They already knew that losses were going to be huge and this was, understandably, nerve-wracking for them. Because try as we might, we could not counter that.

We could not figure a way to get into the castle to open it through treachery either because the leaders were all augmented so we couldn't do it by subterfuge. Kristoff was well known to the besiegers and could be seen wandering the walls and the other defences, gesturing with a shield that was probably a barn door and a sword that was bigger than those obscene things that the Landsknechts use and he was doing it in one hand.

We did not know what to do. For the first time in years, Phil and I were dusting off our old battle magics which was not something that I was looking forward to using again. Others of us were doing the same and reminding ourselves how the magic of those things worked. But the ritual that your brother was building was a concern. If we started channelling magic, the effect that he had had on the flow of the chaos was… worrying. And then Kerrass stepped forward out of the shadows and told us how to solve the problem. It was risky, but we didn't have a better idea and at the end of the day, it didn't cost us much.

We don't know for sure what happened to Kerrass and unless the man suddenly develops a tongue that starts talking to people it is unlikely that we find out until he actually starts talking to people.

When that will happen is anyone's guess. I finally managed to speak to Eskel of the Wolven Witchers who was in the area, speaking with Lord Geralt on some private matter. He is as close to a big brother as Kerrass has and I hope that Eskel will be able to speak some sense into the younger Feline Witcher. But I don't hold out much hope.

What we know to have happened, is that at the feast, Ariadne snapped his neck while palming a healing potion into Kerrass' mouth so that he could survive that injury and eventually regain his strength. At some point, he was thrown onto the piles of the other dead where he crawled out of the pit before he could be burnt. He disguised his survival and the fact that he had to kill a couple of the rebels by hiding the deaths amongst some of the other deaths that were around at the time and then he disappeared into the night.

We know that he made his way to Vizima where he found that he had already been beaten to the punch by Padraig and the rest so he didn't need to tell anyone what had happened. He then needed to be sat on by several people, including Lord Geralt, to stay where he was and recover from the fact that he had had his neck broken. He moved up with the rest of the main force of the army and was, occasionally, visibly frustrated at the lack of progress towards Coulthard Castle itself.

Several times he was caught packing up and making his way but he was prevented from actually leaving with logical arguments, including the fact that he was still not recovered from his injuries and the like and so could not be the man, or the Witcher, that he needed to be to effect any kind of desired rescue. It wasn't until there was a physical appeal which proved to him how sick he was that he settled down.

After that, he retreated into his shell somewhat and would only come out of it to train obsessively to the point where he was stronger, and quicker than he had been for several years. He would travel with the main body of the army and be considered one of the doomsayers. Men would especially resent his presence when things seemed to be going so well for the Imperial side as the rebel forces just fell back and back and back from the Imperial advances but he would warn people about the pending Vampire assault. The Imperial military minds would ignore him at best, or ridicule him at worst and he was driven even further into his shell.

I wish I could talk it all through with him but alas, such a matter is not going to come up any time soon.

So he travelled with the army and was one of the only people that was able to shout a warning when the Vampiric assault came. He was the one that was running and shouting. He didn't have a silver sword as a replacement was still being built for him but he still threw himself forward to help fight off the attacking beasts and there are stories of him saving lives and ignoring the gratitude of those men that survived.

And now, at the last, in much the same way as Lord Helfdan had done so about Novigrad. He had come forward and offered a solution to the problem as was offered here.

Of course, he was ridiculed and laughed at by all but the two most important people. Those being Lord Voorhis and the Empress herself. The conversation is becoming famous and there are a lot of arguments about who said what. I can't answer for all of that as I have access to the actual record.

"Can it be done?" asked Lord Voorhis while the Empress watched.

"With a little help, I think it can be done," Kerrass replied.

"Just to be clear." Lord Voorhis went on, "And for the record. You think that you can neutralise the Comtesse and her control over the vampires?"

"I can."

"You mean to kill an Elder Vampire, all the time while those people that are depending on her for their ongoing survival are carrying on. Also, I can't help but think that…"

"I didn't say kill," Kerrass told the speaker with a snap. Apparently, he was so astonished that someone, let alone this Witcher, had talked back to him that he shut up instantly. The offending person was a regular critic of the Sorceress and I have obscured his name for political reasons.

He knows who he is. But I doubt he will read this.

Lady Yennefer quite enjoyed that.

The offending person was a regular critic of the Sorceress and I have obscured his name for political reasons.

He knows who he is. But I doubt he will read this.

"Madame La Comtesse is just as much a prisoner of Lord Kalayn as the other hostages." Kerrass went on. "She is being forced to this end."

"Nonsense," shouted an Imperial officer that I also think would be most political not to name. This man had more grace later and admitted that he was tired and angry having lost a large number of men to the Vampires. "The bitch has been seen in the clouds and leading the Vampiric host. There is no chain around her neck or keepers to keep her steady."

Kerrass took a deep breath.

"The Ariadne that I know would not do these things of her own will."

"A Witcher's word?" Sneered another officer.

"Witchers keep their word." Kerrass snarled, "Which is more than I can say for Imperial officers and their…"

"ENOUGH." Roared the Empress.

Quiet descended quickly. It does not do to further anger an already furious Empress.

"Witcher Kerrass," She said softly. "Although I am inclined to side with you on this matter, perhaps you could explain your reasoning for the honoured Gentlemen."

Kerrass took a breath.

"We know," he began. "That Elder Vampires can be controlled using a small leather bag, a fetish, as constructed by unknown magics that people have taken some lengths to destroy. I would suggest that Lord Kalayn either knew, or his teacher knew, that magic before it was hunted out and destroyed by the council and the Conclave. When he ordered Ariadne to snap my neck, Lord Kalayn was fingering a small leather bag that was tied at his waist. I mean to attack that bag and destroy it, releasing the Comtesse from Lord Kalayn's control."

"Will that work?" Lord Voorhis asked Lady Yennefer.

"It should." Lady Eilhart answered in response. Much to Lady Yennefer's amusement. "Fetishes are fragile things. All it would take would be a disruption of the chaos that is contained within to free her."

"How do we know she won't turn against us with even more fervour?" Lord Voorhis asked.

"Even if the Comtesse was to return to old, by which I mean ancient, habits," Kerras began, "habits that she had sworn off shortly after her emergence from captivity. She regarded herself as humanity's keeper. She would not have permitted this large-scale loss of life. She was also not cruel for the sake of cruelty. And she would not have enslaved those other vampires for her own sake.

"But for my money, she loves or loved Freddie. She will want to avenge him or help us. She will want to fight back. I would even suggest that it is her that will be best suited to rescuing the hostages and ensuring their safety."

"Which is another concern," Lord Voorhis admitted. "As soon as we assault, they will start to kill hostages.

"Let Ariadne take care of that." Kerrass insisted and from there, I can move on disrupting the ritual."

Lord Voorhis nodded.

"So how do we get you into the castle?"

"I had some thoughts," Kerrass told him.

Kerrass started to speak and as he did so, the rest of the battle plan started to form around that central raid.

Speak of the monster and lo doth it appear.

Kerrass has returned.

I wish I could say that Kerrass has overcome whatever nonsense it is that is making him angry and paranoid. He is still prickly and struggling to keep a hold of his temper. And the news he has brought is not hopeful. But if you are wondering why there has been such a delay between the previous issue and this one, it is because a good amount of this work was done on the road. And I can no longer move quite as fast as I used to be able to.

I improve every day, but I am still painfully slow. And now I have to travel by escort. And the old equation first observed way back with Lord Dorme's entourage, remains true. The delay of a group of people getting underway is the amount of time it takes to get the slowest person ready, which is me, multiplied by the number of people in the group. But that frustrates Kerrass.

And increasingly, I find that I do not care what Kerrass thinks.

He was by the side of the road as I was making one of my increasingly frequent journeys to Novigrad. It has been suggested by more than a few people that I should make more use of the Coulthard family residence. There have even been a few veiled suggestions by people, including the Hierarch of Novigrad, that I should live there permanently. But firstly, Emma lives there and when the Duke of the Pontar turns up, it disrupts the entire street, let alone the little world that she clings to so desperately. I cannot avoid staying there sometimes, but other times?

Emma is trying, trying hard but other than seeing to it that, monetarily, my lands have never been stronger, she

is increasingly becoming a recluse, avoiding all contact with anyone other than Laurelen and those people that she has business with. This is making things interesting for everyone as she has had to fend off two attempts of people trying to challenge her decisions on the grounds of insult when she didn't attend a ball that someone was throwing, or accusations of mental degradation, in the case of a competitor that was trying to get out of a business deal where Emma trounced him.

These attempts have died off since it has been realised that any such decision would end up in the court of her younger brother.

Me.

She, Laurelen and an independent doctor of brain medicine that I sent for the form of the thing, have all declared Emma mentally competent. She just doesn't want to see people, deal with people, or have anything to do with people. I worry about her. She is becoming a ghost in her own lifetime. But all we can do is be there for her.

But anyway…

That's another problem with me writing while I'm on the road. It is increasingly difficult to keep my eye on the prize when there isn't a private secretary with a pale face and blue lips around to keep me on task.

I was riding for Novigrad when I saw Kerrass by the side of the road. Charitably speaking, he was in something of a mess. Obviously injured, filthy and a bit torn up. Less charitably, he was trying to obscure himself so that we didn't see him. I have no idea why he was doing that save to suggest that Kerrass was being Kerrass. I wish I knew what was going through my friend's head but…

I stopped my procession and went to see him. He looked almost disappointed that I had spotted him in his disguise but I would recognise his stance and way about him anywhere.

"Greetings Lord," he bowed as deeply as he could manage. "I remain at your service."

I ignored his nonsense as I was too excited to see him.

"Tell me you found something." I could feel my heart pounding through my chest.

"Very well," he nodded, "As I am instructed to speak, so I shall obey. I have found something."

"Dammit Kerrass," I could not contain my frustration and my excitement. I think he saw that in me and nodded sadly.

"It's not good Lord," he told me.

I nodded in agreement and led Kerrass into a nearby inn. I don't like throwing the weight of my rank around to get privileges that I do not feel that I have earned, but sometimes, it is nice to be able to walk into a place and ask for privacy. In this case, the Innkeeper didn't mind so much and the fat bag of coins that Ameiko handed him soon quelled any complaint that there might have been.

"She is to the North, Lord," Kerrass told me as he stared sourly at the mug of ale that the landlord placed in front of him. I know it was the Landlord because he insisted on serving the Duke and his friend with his own hands. I am ashamed to say that I didn't notice.

"She is to the North where she is holed up in a cave in the mountains," he told me between sarcastic assessments of my lordly status. I ignored them as I was still too overjoyed with having any news at all. "She has covered the entrance of the cave with webs and there are spiders patrolling the area."

"Did you see her?" I asked eagerly, "Did you speak to her?"

"No Freddie," he sighed, for a moment forgetting that he was trying to be angry. "No, the spiders chased me off."

"Did she order them to do that?" I wondered.

"Would it change your mind about what you intend to do if I told you that they did?" Kerrass growled.

"Probably not," I replied easily, ignoring his anger. "I owe her too much not to make the attempt. Many people owe her…"

He waved me off.

"No," he said. "The spiders were protecting the cave, not attacking me. But Lord? They are angry."

I nodded in acceptance of that.

"Will you guide me?" I asked.

"It will cost you," he grumbled.

"If it's a fair price, then I will pay it," I told him.

But a Duke does not leave his realm overnight. I spent a bit of time putting my affairs in order and making sure that the new Duchy could still operate in my absence. I gave authorities and writs and the like. I do not doubt that some people will try to use my absence from the duchy as proof of my negligence and they are possibly not wrong. But even so, I believe that I am carrying out the orders of the Empress in recovering the woman that I love and so I mean to do just that.

We set off for the North, three days after Kerrass had returned and I chafed at every delay. I chafe at the slow progress we are making even now and I grow increasingly frustrated with Kerrass. We stopped for the night and I tried to speak to him. I want and need to know about what happened to him in the lead-up to his coming into the castle to attack Sam. I want to renew our friendship and find out what it is that has upset him.

I want and need this to happen.

But every time I get close to him, he will find an excuse to walk off. Or he will simply not be there at all.

This is breaking my heart and I don't know what to do about it. I reassure myself with the dream that soon I will be reunited with the woman that I love. I try to temper my hopes though. If she instructs me to leave then I am not sure how I will react to that. The romantic in me tells me that I would stay with her no matter what. I would build a cabin nearby and be as near to her as I can physically be.

But I have duties now, both feudally and to the people that live under my remit.

I wonder if the Empress guessed as to my mindset and took those steps to make sure that I came back.

Still, no use borrowing trouble until it gets here.

So instead, I work. I sit at my campfire and work through the notes that I have.

I feel positively nostalgic but at the same time, I find myself laughing at myself.

On the one hand, it feels good to be back on the road again. But this is nothing like how it used to be. I can walk around fine and I can sit and climb up to my feet. But getting up and down is a laborious effort that I am still getting used to. So I have gone from the person that did loads of camp chores including the cooking, to the person that stands there and watches other people lay out the blankets and make the campfires.

The other thing is that now I sleep in a tent. A TENT. What madness is this? I have become exactly the sort of travelling idiot that Kerrass and I used to make fun of.

Ah, Kerrass. I miss my friend but he can be as angry with me as he likes if it leads me to Ariadne.

Gradually, the plan to assault Coulthard Castle started to take shape. The first step was for the mages to erect an anti-scrying screen over the top of the camp and the command tent. From there, messages started to be sent. The optimistic plan was that Kerrass would get into the castle and be able to neutralise Ariadne and therefore, the Vampires would also be neutralised. The question from there would be, what would those Vampires do when they were released?

Again, the hopeful plan was that Ariadne would be able to send them far away before releasing them. But it was granted that this was an extremely optimistic idea.

As I keep being told. Military leaders want their plans to be as simple as possible because when it goes wrong, and it will, then they will have time to take corrective steps.

Also, the majority of the planning went into contingencies. So, put simply, using the vampires as an example, Kerrass frees Ariadne. But what if he doesn't and Ariadne or some other soldier rips his throat out before he gets anywhere near her? Then the Vampires still need to be fought and the Imperial forces still need a plan to do that. But what if, instead, Kerrass frees Ariadne and then Ariadne has been driven mad by her captivity, or other circumstances mean that controlling the Vampire hordes is low down on her list of priorities?

So now we have a host of Vampires milling around, scared, angry and acting on instinct, surrounded by prey. So now, instead of fighting an army, there are a lot of individual monsters. Do you see how it works?

So there was a drawing in of resources. Several transport gates were opened and people started to be summoned. Both to help with Kerrass' plans and to help take the castle in general.

We believe that it was this marshalling that finally persuaded Sam that the ritual needed to be performed sooner rather than later.

As I think I've said. The point of the ritual was that a circle had been constructed in the basement of the castle. That circle was there to draw the eye of the entity that Sam wanted to take power from. The longer it was left, the more it would draw the entity's attention. Culminating in the final moments when Sam performed the sacrifices.

We are reasonably sure from the prisoners that we took, that by now, the rebels were realising that they were probably on the losing side. Despite the Vampires and the augmented soldiers and the impressive fortifications, they were watching the Imperial Forces get larger and larger and larger.

The magical shield was there to stop Ariadne from scrying into the command tent. But it was impossible to hide just how big the attacking force was going to be.

And after the fall of Oxenfurt, and the knowledge that there was no reinforcement coming from the Redanian courts, the rebellion solely fell on Sam's shoulders. And he was the only one that was not predicting doom. To be fair to him, it would seem as though his confidence was contagious and so, his confidence in the coming ritual and the amount of power it would give him, buoyed the troops.

And so, the dictated time came and Kerrass and his team… because he didn't go alone, set off under cover of night and the best camouflaging spells that could be provided for them. And the battle of Coulthard Castle began.

I wish I could have seen it. It is the only part of this entire thing that I feel that about. I wish I could have seen that. It sounds magnificent and at some point, I have no doubt, songs and sagas will be told about that battle and if it's half as epic as it sounds as though the day actually was. I will sit and listen to it for the account of the historic occasion that it was.

I wish I could have seen it.

I wish I could have seen that alliance as they lined up before the castle ready to begin the assault. I wish I could have seen the massed Black armour of the Imperial ranks as they stood there, blank and anonymous in their perfect ranks. I wish I could have seen the flower of Temerian Chivalry as they stood, preening and hungry to wipe the stain of Count Bernier's misstep from the memory of the continent. I wish I had seen the Redanians on the other side of the Imperial Forces from the Temerians. No less hungry to redeem themselves. They were more ragged and less disciplined but witnesses tell me that they growled in their ranks as they looked at the castle in the smoky, early morning light.

I wish I could have seen the Skelligan skirmishers, standing loosely in front. They had demanded and were given, the honour of going in first. They would fight better in the trenches and the escarpments that the defenders had created. The Skelligans would work better as individuals and that maze of ditches and trenches would split up any kind of conventional force.

And finally, I wish I had seen the Knights of Francesca, supported by the Knights of Toussaint. The Knights of Francesca had heard that the ancestral home of their Saint had been taken by the forces of evil and had united for the first time as a battlefield unit. The remaining Knights Errant had rallied to the cause as well, seeing an opportunity to redeem themselves and carry a fight against the still frightening and hateful Vampires from the Night of the Long Fangs. According to witnesses, the Knights of Toussaint, whose job it would be to clear the road up to the castle gate, should have been amusing to look at, but instead, the sincerity of them and their grim determination meant that they were the most terrifying of all the military forces assembled. They would be the hammer, the lance really, that would smash its way up to the first gate of the castle and hopefully, would carry them through it.

I hope I don't need to say that they were led by Sirs Guillaume de Launfal, Palmerin de Launfal who had come out of retirement for this effort,- and Gregoire de Gorgon.

According to those same witnesses, the Knights of Toussaint looked hungry.

In the meantime, the Lodge of Sorceresses and the magical contingent of what was about to happen were making their preparations elsewhere.

The strategy, as these things often are, and should be, was simple. The Imperial Alliance needed to take the castle as quickly as possible. The faster the castle was taken, the more lives would be saved on both sides. The Lodge had stirred up a minor panic in the ranks regarding what they thought that the ritual would be able to do should it be completed and so the ritual needed to be disrupted as fast as possible, but to do so in as safe a manner as possible. It was going to be absolutely no good to anyone if the ritual was disrupted and then the world exploded.

So this was the task of Kerrass' team.

Kerrass' team was made up of Carys and Padraig who were acting as guides for the team. One of the first things that Carys had done was to thoroughly explore the castle on such a minute level that it has since proven to be rather intimidating. Padraig's knowledge was no less than hers and it was reasoned that the team might need some muscle.

Because the two of them were going, it became impossible to keep Chireadean out of the team. According to Padraig, the Elf had been sharpening his sword with a certain focused intensity that others found intimidating and when asked why he insisted on going, he told everyone that "everyone has their scores to settle". For all of his laid-back and affable nature, it is easy to forget that Chireadean has been a soldier and killer as well as a minor barber-surgeon and innkeeper and he is rather skilled with the long-handled elven sword that he carries.

The other objective of the infiltrating team was to take the inner gate. There were plans in place to take the other two gates but there was a fear that the momentum could stall by the time that the assault got to the third gate. The surviving crew of the Wave-Serpent as well as several other Skelligan raiders from the clan of the Black Boar volunteered for that task. They would go in with the infiltrating team and do their best to disrupt the other things that were going on as well as sabotaging whatever war machines that they could manage. Then when the assault was ordered, they would move and ensure that the gate was opened so that the charging Knights would be able to get through.

Helfdan was forbidden from going. The formidable duo of The Empress and the Queen of Skellige told him that his presence in the infiltrating party was simply out of the question and when Svein agreed with them, Helfdan nodded his agreement.

So the assault began when Kerrass departed into the night. The team made it across the intervening lands in good order. Kerrass was able to guide the group, which was no more than a dozen men and women, past those Vampires that might have been able to sniff out the intruders. And the others followed on behind him. Chireadean tells me that they made good time and were able to make a difference in what they thought would be the coming fight. But not so much that they would be giving the game away before it was due to start.

They came to the wall and this part of the story is the one that made me laugh when I heard it. They climbed over the walls by virtue of the same rope that we had used to escape. One of those things that just happens. It is the little things that have been overlooked that will lead to the fall of an Empire and in this case, it was a long piece of rope that was tied around a part of the rampart that was not as well maintained or guarded as it should have been. Why was it not guarded? because it would have been all but impossible to assault that particular patch of wall.

There is something here about assumptions isn't there.

So they got in and using their knowledge of the castle, they started to move into position. Kerrass found a uniform and some equipment that he could use to blend in and so long as he kept his eyes down then he could blend in easier.

Carys and Chireadean found it more difficult to disguise themselves as, contrary to popular belief, it is not just the ears that make an elf look elven, it is the narrowness of the face and the upsweep of the jawline.

The Skelligans did better by trimming their facial hair and wearing helmets. They did, according to Padraig, roundly mock the quality of the equipment that they were given and rather than spend a lot of time preparing the sabotage and getting ready for the assault, most of what they ended up doing was moving all of their equipment into place so that they could get at some "real weapons" when the time came.

Kerrass, Carys, and Padraig moved into the castle to scout it out so they would know where the captives were and would be able to pass that intelligence on when it was happening.

What was happening in the castle is a little hazy and we can't be entirely certain that this is all accurate but this information comes from what was gathered by Padraig and Carys from within the castle. We are pretty sure that the news of the massacre that the Vampires had committed had buoyed up the rebel forces. But then, when they could start to watch the attack forming outside of the castle walls, the alliance of the rebels started to fracture.

Over and over again, Sam had been telling them all that the object of the exercise was to delay. What captives we have agreed with that assessment. All he wanted them to do was to delay the assault and therefore to have more power moving through the ritual that was going to take place. But that was not something that the rebels could comprehend.

All that they knew and believed in was what they could see. Whatever else they were, they were still Redanian and as such they were instinctively distrustful of magic and so they trusted what they could see, not necessarily what Sam was telling them.

They had been overjoyed at the body count that they had managed to generate with the vampiric attack and they thought that the Imperial forces would react to that attack in the same way that they would themselves. They expected the Imperial forces to be demoralised by this attack and that they would be sent into disarray. They imagined some kind of grand breakout and a clawing back of victory from the jaws of defeat. They were cheering themselves and imagining that they would leave the castle to chase down the people that had assailed them.

And then, instead of fleeing, the Imperials had reformed and instead of fleeing, they had decided to fight. This had dismayed the defenders and Sam's cries of just needing time were not being properly registered.

In the end, they finally persuaded Sam that he needed to start the ritual. There was no more time for them to delay the inevitable and whatever it was that Sam was going to do, well… they needed him to do it.

That was the keep that Kerrass, Padraig and Carys walked into. They scouted out the ritual chamber and Kerrass was able to pass that information back to the magical contingent through telepathy. Again, this was part of the plan and was entirely expected. Kerrass had been given a small item, similar to the symbol of the Eternal Flame that Ariadne had once given me, for him to recount what he could see to the Lodge of Sorceresses. This gave them the information that they thought they needed to do the things that they needed to do.

In the meantime, Padraig and Carys found those places where the captives were being held and drew maps and passed on that information to the assaulting forces, again via Kerrass.

It will have been about here that I was moved down into the ritual chamber and Sam started to perform the ritual.

That put a panicked delay onto the Lodge and Imperial Mages while they figured out what to do and what to happen. They could tell that the power was being gathered and focused into a point and they realised that this point was Sam. What they were concerned with was what would happen when the ritual was disrupted and Sam was killed. They needed a way to channel that power away from Sam.

In the end, they figured that out. Kerrass attacked and freed Ariadne and therefore released the other Vampires from her control. He disrupted the ritual and then he toyed with Sam, working out and finalising a way to kill him which is what I saw. In the end, when the Lodge had put in place a spell to syphon off the power that would be released upon his death, they gave Kerrass a signal and he took up the silver sword and started the fight in earnest.

After Ariadne was released, what happened in the keep is rather confusing. There was an awful lot of screaming and those hostages that survived were, like me, more than a little bit delirious with the blood loss and the bad food and the proximity to powerful magic. Many of them describe a red mist that seemed to be made out of claws that would come and tear apart the rebel forces before pushing a key into a place where the captives could get at them and then disappearing off to kill the next person.

All that Luarelen said was,

"It was madness, Freddie. Utter madness and I don't want to think about it. There was just so much blood and the fear stank. I stank, Emma stank. It was just… awful."

And the Imperial forces attacked.

I wish I could have seen it.

As a scholar and a historian, there are always those time periods where you look back at something, or you look back at a time period and you think… I wish I could have seen it. I wouldn't want to interfere because to interfere is to very probably make the entire thing worse. But to see it, with your own eyes and to, very possibly, have a suspicion confirmed or denied.

I wish I could have been there when the Usurper had taken over the Empire of Nilfgaard. I also wish that I had been there when Emperor Emhyr had returned to take up his throne.

And those two things are in living memory.

I wish I could have sat and talked with Falka and see if she was as crazy as everyone says she was, or if she was just the pawn of others greater than herself.

I wish I could have been there when the First landing took place and I could have asked those settlers what they were running from. I wish I could have asked the Dauk or the Nozgor why they erected those monoliths and what their purpose of them was.

But this is going to be one of those moments. It might have all fallen apart later and it might still be falling apart as I sit here and write these words. But for one shining moment, the North and the South were united against a common foe. There was no doubt who was in the right and who was in the wrong. One alliance between Nilfgaard, Temeria, Skellige and a good chunk of Redania. That alliance included humans, dwarfs and elves. Magical person and non-magical person. Those that others would have considered monsters. All of them were going to attack that castle. I wish I had seen it.

I wish I could have been there, standing on Lord Voorhis' command platform that someone had built for him when the Empress arrived to survey the scene. I wish I could have heard the roar of the Imperial forces as she waved to them. Cold and terrifying in her fury.

I wish I could have stood there as the Skelligans sang their prayer to their own Gods on this, the dawn of a righteous battle. I wish I could have seen the sword dances and heard the prayers as they worked themselves into the battle frenzy of their forebears. I have seen the mere twenty warriors as they performed the same rites before beaching the Wave-Serpent. What it must have been like to see that before an army.

I wish I had seen it.

I wish I had seen Guillaume ride up to the castle gate in one of those gestures that they just don't make any more. People don't do that. They don't ride forward and offer a challenge. He carried a pennant as he rode and such was the magic of the gesture that even the rebels did not dare to try and strike him down. He rode up to the gate and his horse danced around, rearing and pawing at the ground while Guillaume demanded that the castle gates be opened and that the occupying forces throw down their arms and surrender.

Kristoff answered that, standing huge and formidable in his impossible armour as he threw a spear at the Knight from Toussaint. Yet another proof as to who was on the right side. Guillaume was called an Imperial lapdog, a woman loving cur and various other things.

Guillaume had dodged the throw easily, despite the impact leaving the spear juddering the ground. Guillaume planted the Imperial pennant next to the spear and rode back to the Imperial lines unhurriedly. Ignoring the few arrows and things that were sent towards him.

Nothing had come of it but these are the gestures that you make.

I wish I had seen it. I wish I had seen the moment where General Voorhis, having waited until Guillaume had returned to the Toussaint ranks, turned to the Empress and made a gesture as though he was inviting the Empress to precede him through a door.

The Empress, in turn, nodded graciously before nodding to Queen Cerys and the Skelligans began the attack.

I wish I had seen it.