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

115. Chapter 115

"Every man..." The Skald began "Every man that has a carving in front of them due to their own efforts. Whether you came first, second or third, or if you were given one by someone who felt that you deserved it more than the next person..."

Attendants, men and women that I took to be junior Skalds of some kind were walking around the hall counting the number of totems that were on the tables. I had to chuckle as more than one person had hidden their own little carved warrior in order to upset the process and were forced to hurridly place their own carvings in front of them.

"... or even if you have made some kind of political deal in order that you have received a carving in return for some past or future favour."

I saw him look to one side and acknowledge a signal from an aide. I guessed, correctly it would turn out, that this was a signal to tell him that the total number of carvings on the tables had been counted.

"Each of these tables holds a ship's Captain or a Lord in their own right. So now, we formally state that those people that have won a carving are themost powerful, strong, skilled, fast, clever and special people in the islands as a whole. So who do you trust to hold the southern part of Ard Skellig? You may place your carvings on the tables of those men who you think most deserve it.

"The..." A few people had already leapt to their feet and retreated back to their chairs in embarrassment. "The choice to place your carving on the table of your clan Jarl is a valid one. At the close of things, the Jarls will then be able to use your votes as well as any other statues that they have gathered and place them on the tables of their choice. But that is for the future. First is the choice of the people. You may now rise and..."

The rest of his phrase was drowned out by men and women climbing to their feet and moving round. People laughed, joked and shouted. There were exclamations of surprise at some of the carvings being placed and where they were chosen to go.

I had my eye on a couple of people.

Helfdan calmly rose and carried his own carving to be placed on the table belonging to Jarl Hjalmar An Craite. One of the older warriors sat at Hjalmar's table noticed the gesture and clapped an obviously uncomfortable Helfdan on the shoulder before going and whispering something in Hjalmar's ear.

Neither Svein or Yngvild moved their carvings from where they stood on Helfdan's table.

Kerrass picked his own carving up and examined it in the firelight for a long moment, his expression unreadable before he moved it over to stand next to Svein's own carving.

A couple of other people came over and placed their own carvings on Helfdan's table that I didn't recognise. I understand that one of those men was a ship-builder. There were a few other folk that were obviously not warriors that placed their own carvings on our table as well, including a few people from the harbour small-ship sailors.

One of the more controversial choices was when Skallagrim rose from his bench and walked across the hall to stand before us all. He towered above us in our seated position and looked at Helfdan for a long time until Helfdan finally raised his eyes to greet the champion of Clan Tuirseach. Deliberately, Skallagrim leaned forward and placed his carving from winning the contest of Champions on the table.

I hid my smile of smugness behind a cup of mead, although both Ariadne and Kerrass noticed it.

A couple more people came and put their own carvings down, thus casting their votes for Helfdan. The Captain of the guard at Kaer Trolde placed his own Statue on Helfdan's table. He didn't stay or make any kind of gesture, but instead he seemed to be on the edge of tears for some reason.

A similar situation happened when a family approached our table led by a man who had apparently come second in the fishing competition. The husband and wife were in tears as they placed their own statue on Helfdan's table and I was pleased to see it when Helfdan rose, shook the man's hand and embraced the woman.

Svein would later tell me that the family had lost their elder son to a storm a few weeks ago. They had been one of the families that had mourned when the Skeleton Ship came through.

One by one the statues were placed onto the tables and the Skald held his hands up for silence.

"What none of you know is that we have counted the number of statues in order to ensure that there will not be a tie. Therefore we will now count again to make sure that no-one has tried to pre-empt the challenge of cunning by adding some extra carvings here and there."

Sure enough, a young white robed Skald came to our table and counted the carvings on Helfdan's table, lifting each up and examining the base of the carving before nodding in satisfaction. He waved a signal to someone and moved off.

"Now comes the interesting part." The Skald cackled. "Everyone has placed their statues and those statues are not allowed to move after this point."

He really was having far too much fun with this entire situation.

"So," The Skald went on. "Some of you may remember that a day or so ago, I spent some time hiding various of these statues in secret places around the port and the keep. The challenge was that these statues could be used to win favours from people or given as gifts or could otherwise be used to help further a cause in one way or another."

There was a pause for just a moment. One of the junior skalds had found a forged carving on one of the tables away from us. I couldn't see who it was, but there was a short skuffle as the various people had to be called in to sort the problem out. The Skald on the dais waited for the ruckus to die down before speaking again.

"So here is the time of the test of cunning. I would ask that those people that have access to the statues of cunning to make themselves known and to place their carvings on the tables of their choice."

There was a pause while almost the entire hall seemed to spend a bit of time looking around to see who would emerge.

Almost sheepishly, a small boy was pushed forward by his parents to place a statue on Jarl Donar's table. The old Jarl was clearly astonished but rewarded the child with a small trinket that I didn't see and shook the father's hand. "My son found the carving." The man said, refusing to allow the boy, who was no more than four, to hide behind his leg. "Apparently it was on top of our roof."

"A man should always notice the things that are not where they should be." Jarl Donar spoke clearly so that the hall could hear. "When your time comes, young man, and if you have not found a different calling. Come and see me as I could use men who know how to watch for those things that are out of place."

"Thank you My Lord," The man told him before retreating into the crowd.

A short while later, one of the guards of the castle came forward with a grin. He placed one statue on Hjalmar's table before placing another statue in the hands of a bemused older man. "One for my Lord." He told the room "and another for the father of the woman I hope to marry." The crowd cheered the guard's courage in declaration. The older man did his best to grimace but he was just as swept up in the moment as everyone else there. To no-one's surprise, the soon to be father of the bride place the statue on Hjalmar's table.

"You need to work on your stealth." The guard teased the Skald. "I saw you coming a mile away."

The Skald nodded ruefully at the laughter. "I am no longer as clever or as quick as I used to be." He declared. "But I had to be seen by someone otherwise none of the statues would be found."

There was much laughter in the hall as people seemed to decide that the old man had scored a point of some kind.

"Anyone else?" The Skald asked as the laughter died down. "Come on, you can't convince me that no other carvings were found. If no others are brought forth then we must be concerned for the state of your watch Jarl Hjalmar. I was not so stealthy as all of that."

There was much laughter as Hjalmar shrugged and glared about himself with mock disapproval.

There was a long pause as men looked at each other and waited for the axe to fall.

Then a chair scraped.

"Kar." Svein said loudly. "Make yourself known."

There were gasps as one of the Thralls at the side of the room carefully passed his jug over to the person next to him and pulled a large sack into view.

I felt my shoulders begin to shake as I recognised Svein's younger, much more criminal brother, Kar, pulled the sack over to Helfdan's table and reached inside his sack to produce a carving that he placed on Helfdan's table for all to see. At first there were gasps of amazement as carving followed carving followed carving. After the first few one of the Skald's assistants arrived to check each carving as it came to view, looking at the bottom before shrugging and nodding.

Then the laughter started.

When the eighth carving was on the table, people started to cheer.

Helfdan didn't react while Svein stood next to him, his eyes looking round the hall. Ciri hid her own laughter behind her hands, her eyes shining. Lord Voorhis was frowning with thought. Kerrass relaxed imperceptibly as he watched the display.

After he was done, Kar removed the white robes of a Thrall to reveal that he was wearing standard woolen tunic of a warrior and sat down at the place that had been reserved for him.

I had wondered why Svein had insisted on keeping one of the chairs free.

"My Lord Helfdan, the Black Boar, The Bastard of Clan An Craite is an honourable man." Svein called out into the hall as the noise began to die down. Not for the first time I was left wondering how much training Svein had received in certain matters. Svein's voice was harsh and raspy. It was not the trained, sonorous voice of the Skald or the courtier. It was the voice of a man who had to shout orders on a battlefied, or in order to be heard over the crash of the waves against the side of the hull.

The contrast was startling and as a result, it made the point that Svein was making all the clearer.

"Although my Lord is aware of the cunning that can and must be used at the helm of a ship, in the halls of enemies or on the battlefield against foes. He sees the men in this hall as friends and allies. Because barring all other things, we are Skelligan."

He put some volume behind that last shout and the hall roared in approval.

"My Lord Helfdan is an honourable man." Svein said. "He sees the best in people until there comes a time when he is forced to see the worst. But sometimes, that means that we, his sworn warriors and ship-mates, must be cunning for him.

"He is our Lord and we love him for his honour so it is no great sacrifice to be cunning in his name. We love him for the fact that we grow rich through gifts that are given from his hand. We grow fat from the food that we cut from his table. And we gain Love from those others that he draws to himself. For that last, at least, I remain eternally grateful."

There was a small chorus of "Awww" As Svein reached for Yngvild's hand and squeezed it a moment.

"But we grow rich while he remains poor. We grow fat while he remains thin and we know Love while he remains alone. For these sacrifices on his behalf, I will be cunning for him. I will say the things that he cannot and will not say. I will do the things that he cannot and will not do.

"One of my other ship-mates, a recent one in fact, told me a story and a truth. I appreciate that time moves on so I will skip the story as he tells it better than I can. But he told me that we ignore our Thralls. We look past them, we do not think about the way that we treat them and we always, always, ignore them unless we want something for them."

There was some uncomfortable shifting in the hall.

"So here, on behalf of my Lord, I will give you this lesson in honour and cunning. My Lord knows the name of every Thrall that he has working for him. He knows their faces, what their skills are and when their term of thralldom comes to a close. He even rewards them for their faithfull service should they deserve it after their Thralldom is finished. The tactic that we used today would never work in my Lord's lands.

"This was a game. A challenge. A trial to test which of the potential Jarls had the most cunning, or who had the most cunning minds serving them. All my brother had to do was to tell everyone, including his companions, that he was travelling back to the village and staying there. But he didn't. He came back, put on a white robe and followed the Chief Skald around as the carvings were hidden. He tells me that he even served the honourable Skald food and ale while the Skald walked and climbed around the harbour."

There was some hissed intakes of breath as a couple of people saw the implications of this.

"We would never use this tactic in war, it is base cunning at best. But we are Skelligan and men of honour. This was a contest. But in war, if Cidaris and Vergen do decide to invade. All they would have to do is to wear a white robe and then every single one of us would ignore them. Fuck, I've just seen a Thrall refill the Queen's wine Goblet while I have been speaking and not one person looked at the Thrall's face to check who it was."

The entire hall turned and looked at the young girl who was no more than fourteen and plainly terrified to have been put on the spot in such a way.

The Queen made a joke of it, examining the cup closely before shrugging and drinking the goblet dry. Then she beckoned for a refill from the young woman.

"That is my point," Svein finished. "That is my service to My Lord. That is my Lesson and my gift to the hall. We might not do this to each other, take advantage of this blind spot with each other. But as my new ship-mate would say. "You are never more than five spears away from a Thrall." Remember that."

His last words fell into empty silence as he sat down. Then he turned and winked at me.

"I never said that." I told him.

"Yes you did." He whispered back although the sounds of conversation were beginning to pick up again.

"Sleeping Beauty." Ariadne whispered. "It was the basis of your research and you wrote it down in your attempts to lift the curse."

"That's right I did, didn't I." Something slotted into place. "But that means that Svein can..."

"You tell anyone and you're dead Scribbler." Svein growled at me.

I would have persued Svein's new found ability to read but the Skald interrupted.

Also. Fuck you Svein.

That feels better. I feel better. Vengeance for all the times that he mocked me for being a man of letters. They say that vengeance is a dish best served cold and they are right. It is delicious.

"The point is well made." The Skald said as he stood before the hall. He looked a little shaken. "Well made, well taught and although I would say that there are better ways to make that point, I acknowledge that that is my trying to defend my ignorance and the fact that I was so completely played."

Kar later admitted that he had let the kid get at the carving because he was being picked on by some of the other town kids who were teasing him because he was small. The guard had got the two carvings by being that little bit faster than he, Kar was. But as Kar was already lugging a sack of ten carvings around, he didn't really mind about dropping a pair for a love-sick guard.

"So now that Lord Helfdan's table has conclusively and convincingly won the trial of Cunning, it is time to count the carvings to choose the five Lords who are in possession of the most carvings. Then will come the challenge of boasting."

There was more counting as the assistants to the chief Skald spent some time checking and re-checking the final tally. It was honestly an effort of will to keep myself in the seat and to not be looking around to see which way the wind was blowing. There was a lot of whispered conversation during this period that grew into more overt conversation when it became clear that neither the chief Skald nor the Queen were going to curtail the noise.

The point that Svein had made about people overlooking the Thralls was well made and a topic for much discussion. At first, there were some arguments made, that because Kar had disguised himself as a Thrall that his efforts should be discounted. This opinion was discounted almost immediately as disguising oneself was a matter of cunning and therefore a perfectly valid tactic.

There was also some suggestion that he was really a Thrall and as such, his efforts should go to support the Lord to whom he owed his Thralldom. I'm told that this particular line of theories got far enough to cause Jarl Hjalmar himself to get involved in the argument. He informed the self-important folk in question that not three days before that, Kar had been acclaimed as one of the heroes who had sailed against the Skeleton Ship. Before that he had been doing literally that. So if he had been a Thrall to anyone then he would have had to have escaped in order to serve and that would be a matter of record in some hall somewhere. That if he had been in this hall as a Thrall then he, Hjalmar, had not been aware of it, thus proving Helfdan's point about the overlooking of Skalds.

I noticed how quickly it had become "Helfdan's point" rather than Svein's point. Helfdan never commented on that and Svein's only contribution to the whole thing was that it was a ruse that had been discussed once upon a time when discussing how to rescue someone, but had not been followed through on until the thought occurred in this particular instance. Where Kar had been kept back against the Skalds changing the game in some small and significant way.

There was even another suggestion that Helfdan was being a hypocrite. That he himself didn't know who his Thralls were. This was clearly laughable as precedent of men like Sigurd the Fury were used to point out that any Thrall to Helfdan was given work according to their skills and station. That they were treated well, if warriors, they were allowed to keep their weapons and encouraged to train with them. If Merchants then they would advise on commerce, fishermen fished, hunters hunted. And if anyone betrayed Helfdan's trust, then the punishments were extreme and the Thralldom continued apace and much less leniently.

As Svein had pointed out. Helfdan was even known to reward the service of particularly helpful Skalds.

So that was eventually discounted.

The poor Thralls didn't know what to make of it. On the one hand there was a large influx of people that took the lesson to heart immediately, demanding to know Thrall's names and history. This was problematic because some of the Thralls in the hall had been ordered to give up their names and as a result, their names had been changed to "Thrall" until the time of their Thralldom was over.

The other effect was slightly more sinister. There was more than one change where there were people eyeing up the thrall that brought them their meat and mead and the poor Thrall wilted before the suddenly suspicious and untrusting Skelligans.

After Kar and Svein's display, it was quick and easy to see that Helfdan was one of the frontrunners. I don't know if he was the frontrunner but he was certainly in the front of the pack. It was still clear that the Jarls would have the deciding votes as it had been a fairly standard manoeuvre for people to put their carvings on the tables of their own Jarls rather than risking offending other people by making votes. It was easy to see why, gaining favour with your Lord is always a valid thing so it was obvious to those, like me, who were cynical trained courtiers that the decision had already been made somewhere. But like all things, the illusion of choice was a powerful one.

The Skald held his hand up for silence again.

"There are five captains that have shown themselves with the capabilities to lead. Five Lords who are followed by men..."

"and women..." someone interrupted.

"Yes, I was just coming to that." The Skald glowered at the interruption. "Followed by men and women of talent, skill, strength and cunning enough that they have shown their abilities to lead. Five there are and each of them should know that they are already great men. Great men who Skellige is proud to have in her service. Five men who are credits to their clans, credits to the crown and credits to the nation. Their names are, in no particular order..."

He paused for effect.

"Lord Hragnelf Folkmarsson of Clan Brokvar whom men call the Shield and Protector."

There was a roar from clan Brokvar that one of their own should be named as a leader.

"Lord Dreng Ulaffsson of Clan Tuirseach."

The crowd's reactions to this were mixed. On the one hand there were men that were cheering due to his honour at standing before his proven corrupt Lord. Certainly Clan Tuirseach cheered even though there were some who thought that he should have stayed loyal to Jarl Ingimund to the end. So there were boos as well.

"Lord Roary Fergusson of Clan Dimun whom men call "The red"."

I had heard of him. Roary is a feared Skelligan pirate on the seas. His flag is red with the white outline of an axe painted against it. The stories told of him are rather intense and say things like, "He leaves no prisoners" while also leaving the question about "How do people know that, if he takes no prisoners." He stood up as his name was called and held his arms wide before roaring his feelings up to the ceiling and his crew joined him. He looked savage, wild and untamed. I met him later and a lot of that berzerker spirit seemed to hide a quiet intelligence and sharp sense of humour, that he took care to keep hidden.

There is a common thing that happens in the fields of the continent. You will find many people like Lord Roary that teach men like me an important lesson. Being uneducated does not necessarily mean that you are stupid. It is a lesson that many people in my profession could do well to remember.

The Skald waited for the noise to die down before speaking again.

"Lord Helfdan the Bastard of Clan An Craite. Called the Black Boar"

The cheer of approval was not as complete and total as I might have liked but it was still substantial. Not everyone likes to be confounded by something and the earlier thing about the Thralls seemed to have hit home a little unpleasantly for some people to tolerate.

"Lord Isgaut Runnolfsson of clan Heymaey who men call the Pious"

The hall were surprised by that entry. I have no idea why. He seemed like a fairly well respected Lord. He was no-one flashy but it seemed that he had been quietly attracting talent to himself over his time. He was an older man, certainly the oldest of the five that had been suggested with the grey just beginning to creep into his hair and beard. He bowed his head in acknowledgement of the compliment and beamed at everyone. My only impression of him, as I didn't have the chance to properly make his acquintence, was that he would not look out of place in a churchman's cassok. That the tunic and the armour of a warrior seemed to sit uneasily on him.

"Now it is well known that Skelligans all over the island like and admire the sound of their own voice." The Skald went on. "And that is why we have chosen to limit that test of boasting in this way. Otherwise we would still be listening to the boasts when the natural snows fall."

There was some general laughter of agreement and acknowledgment here.

So here is what is going to happen. All of the five selected Lords will come forward and take a stone from the bag. The stones are numbered according to the runes of the Fatherhood of Hemdall. This will decide the order in which the boasts will be made. After the boasts are complete. The Jarls will be able to decide where to put their own statues and place their votes."

"What about clan Tuirseach?" Someone shouted from those tables. "We have no Jarl to decide."

"But you have a steward." The Skald responded with a touch of asperity. "Perhaps Clan Tuirseach should think about how they were betrayed by their Lord when they consider who they should be choosing for the next Jarl to be elevated."

The crowd hissed. The rebuke was a little harsh and a little... I want to say that it was too much for the festival like atmosphere that was being tried for in the hall. But the old Skald was having none of it and I saw the terrible old man that he must been when he isn't doing his best to be a genial and friendly older man.

The moment passed though.

"So here it is." The Skald began. "Each of these five men must now stand and tell us about their deeds so that the Jarls may decide how to properly assign their votes. Lords? Come forth and select your stone."

He was handed a small sack which he shook. The High Priest of the God came forward and as all five of the chosen Lords stepped forward, they plunged their hands into the bag, showed the stone to the Priest who then told the Skald the number and the order that the decision would be made.

Helfdan walked stiffly and reluctantly. I could not tell whether or not he was reluctant or whether he was... I don't know what was going on there. I now know him much better than I had when I first met him but watching him as he walked up the steps to the dais, I could not ascertain as to what he was thinking. I thought that there was even a possibility that he didn't know what was going to happen and that he didn't think that he deserved to be a Jarl.

Or that he didn't want it. I felt something in my gut twist then and I shifted in my seat that was suddenly uncomfortable. Kerrass glanced at me and Ariadne frowned in concern leaning over and whispering to ask if I was ok. I nodded.

"Lord Isgaut." The Skald declared. "You shall speak first."

Isgaut stood, pushing himself to his feet, head bowed in thought or in prayer, I could not tell which. Then his head came up and he looked around the room before he straightened.

"Skellige needs certainty." He said after a long time. "The world is changing every day now and it is changing in ways that we could not have forseen even ten years ago. The Skeleton Ship is gone, never to return. There is the suggestion of peace between us and the Ice Giants, even between us and the ancient enemy. The only thing that is constant is the strength and courage of our men and women as we stand in the way of those enemies that might come at us."

He laughed and suddenly seemed much younger.

"That and the enmity of Cidaris and Vergen I suppose." The crowd laughed with him. "The new Jarl must tame a lawless land full of monsters and bandits, all the while protecting the southern islands that will be his territory from raiders sent against us by those men and women of the continent that still hate us for everything that we have done.

"The Queen tells us that we can no longer rely on raiding to survive. I agree with her. I am not a young man, but what I am is calm, and steady. I will not react with my heart when the use of the head is required. I'm supposed to be using this time in order to recount my deeds over the years. Well here it is. I have stood guard over the temple of Freya for many moons. In doing so I caught the bandit Ivar the fair-skinned who hunted and killed many priestesses. I fought him and killed him in a fair duel that he did not deserve.

"When the Troll, Volker came to smash the villages, I led the shield-wall that stood in his way. When raiders came to plunder our shores and the temple of Freya, taking advantage of our weakness when our Jarl Donar was away. It was myself that he trusted with the defence of those lands and under my command we did not lose a life or any of our goods. The most that the raiders managed to do was to set fire to a few roofs before we forced them to flee.

"I will admit that I am not the most flashy of men. I cannot show everyone the many deeds or trophies that I have lain at the feet of my Lord. I cannot boast of the missions that Lord Helfdan has been sent on, nor can I claim to have sunk as many ships as Lord Roary has. But what I have done is to do my duty and serve my Jarl and his people with every breath that I serve and my Jarl has never had cause to complain. I am a calm and thoughtful man and that is what is needed in the south."

The speech was not met with the riotous reception that I think the speaker had been hoping for and I think he was disappointed. He sat down quietly amongst the polite applause and cheers and stamping of feet, but to my reading of the matter, there was no passion in that cheering. It was a kind of sanitised acclaim and I do not think that that was what folk were looking for.

I looked at Jarl Donar in an effort to gauge what the man's Jarl had thought of the speech. Donar, himself is a careful man and I was left wondering whether he would approve of his Hersir's approach to the entire situation. I couldn't read his expression though, he looked thoughtful and calm. So my guess was that Donar was pleased that one of his Hersir had, at least, made it this far in the reckoning of things. But was content for them to go no further.

"What do you think Scribbler?" Svein asked me under the cover of the applause. He was not the only one who took a moment to assess things under the cover of that and there was a certain amount of conversation springing up as it went.

I shook my head for an answer. "Nah." I told him. "Calm and thoughtfulness is a good thing in an advisor but not in a Lord. Lords need to consider but then they need to act. Especially Skelligan Lords."

Svein grunted in agreement.

"I notice that he's also left behind when the rest of the clan go to war." I went on. "That says something. If this was the continent it would suggest that he's either a liability on the field, a Jobsworth..."

"What's a Jobsworth? Svein wondered.

"It's a man who takes great delight in smaller details and obsesses over them to the smallest degree to the detriment of the larger, more overall picture." Kerrass spoke up. "The kind of man who would argue about the proper placement of the stores for convenience of use, because that's his job, while the rest of the Lords and men are preparing for battle."

"I see." Svein nodded.

"Also, they're the kind of men that have a puffed up sense of their own importance." I added. "Jobsworths tend to make good heralds and master's of ceremonies. But they occasionally need reminding that their job is not the most important task in the castle."

Svein was still nodding. " So what else. A liability, a Jobsworth or...what?"

"He's a defensive man. Good at thinking defensively only when occasionally, you need to be able to attack. I don't know though, I'm just guessing."

Our conversation died down as the Skald stepped forward again.

"Lord Hragnelf Folkmarsson of Clan Brokvar, you shall speak next."

The man that had been called "The Shield" rose to his feet. A few of the men on his table and from his surrounding clan-mates chanted the word over and over again. "Shield, shield, shield, shield." He enjoyed his moment for a while before raising his hands for silence.

He was an impressive man. Huge and solidly built. He reminded me a lot of Ursa in that he seemed to be a solid mass of a man. The kind of man that when he moved forward then other men fought to get out of his way. He also had a long beard with pronounced drooping moustaches that he was clearly very proud of. He spent a good amount of his time stroking his beard in long sweeping strokes as he spoke.

His words were slower than Lord Isgaut. He seemed to take care in his pronouncing of the words. I found myself dismissing him out of hand and another one of those quiet suspicions came to my mind. I wondered if the order of selection was far from random. After all, the only person who actually knew which rune had come out in which order was the High Priest of Hemdall and so it could have meant anything. The Skalds took pride in not being able to read and if anyone else had been able to read and challenged the priest then they would have been betraying their own abilities in that regard.

I was being unfair though as Hragnelf began to change my mind almost immediately. I still didn't think that he would get anywhere with the vote but he was certainly better than I thought he was.

"I was under the distinct impression that this was a period where I was supposed to boast about my accomplishments. But my immediate predecessor seems to have taken this opportunity to behave like a merchant and do his best to sell himself as to why he would make a good Jarl."

There was some laughter at this although I noticed that many glared at the standing Shield of Clan Brokvar.

"Very well then. I can play that game as well as anyone can. Although I fear that there isn't much to choose between the two of us, Lord Isgaut and I. I too am a cautious man, a protective man. I am also a man who likes to follow the traditions of the islands.

"That's not to say that the Queen and her progressives are wrong. But I do worry that we sometimes move too quickly and that too much change in so short a period of time could be catastrophic. I think that I would provide another voice to counter the enthusiasm of the more progressive Lords on the Jarl's council. And that way, a better, more middle way can be found."

He sighed.

"Right, I'm done telling people why I should be Jarl. Instead, here is me boasting about what I have done like a proper Skelligan should."

There was a roar of approval to that and Hragnelf became more animated the more he spoke.

"I, am the Shield of Clan Brokvar."

The hall roared in their approval at this simple declaration.

"When our Lord was sick, it was I who led our forces into battle. When the Cidaris raiders came round the islands to strike at us while we were weakened due to my Jarl's illness, I led the fleet of ships that sank our enemies at sea. Critics might say that in doing so, I disobeyed my Jarl's orders but if I had not, then we might have been defeated before we started and my Jarl, whom I love, admits now that he was wrong.

"During that action I led a force to board the Cidaris vessel, the Royal Hind, and personally fought it's Captain, Sir Ciseul of the harbour in one to one combat. That was a bloody day and it was only at the last where I was able to run the man through and hurl him from his own deck that the day was ours. We were outnumbered and our chances were slim but we were victorious.

"During the storms of the black Winter, I led the rescue efforts that saved the fisherman's fleet of Clan Brokvar who had been washed into the rocky, uninhabitable islands of North-Western Skellige. Those too were dark days. Both literally and figuratively as the storm-clouds still boiled overhead, the rain lashing down upon us as our men fought to bring those fisher-folk to safety."

"In better days I stood on the right hand side of the Jarl where my shield could cover Lord Udalryk and he could fight and direct the battle. Time and time again this was the case where I would lift my shielf in order to protect my Lord from a stray arrow or a hurled spear. I am called "The Shield" for this reason and many others. Where I have fought and protected and killed in order to make sure that people are safe in the face of overwhelming foes.

"I will protect my people and my lands in the same way as I ever have. For I am Hragnelf the Shield."

The hall cheered his statement as he sat down. The chant started again briefly and it took much longer for the cheering to subside.

Svein turned to me again with a raised eyebrow.

"Of the two that we've heard of so far, he is more likely to get it." I told him. "People respect Isgaut, but they Love Hragnelf. But if I was Udalryk, I wouldn't let so trustworthy a man leave my side for fear that he would take half my people with him. I would ensure that he would stay in my service."

Svein grunted.

There was a great deal of more honest and... I want to say enthusiastic cheering. It was more heart-felt than what had happened with Isgault. The Skald let it go on for a little while, it seemed roughly even in the amount of time that it took between what the other Lord had enjoyed and what Hragnelf had had come to him. But I could be mistaken.

"Lord Roary Fergusson of Clan Dimun."

Roary rose to the odd, discordant howls of his men. It seemed as though it might have been some kind of battlecry for them, something that they howled to signal to their enemies that death was coming across the water or out of the fog shrouded hills in the early hours of the morning. In the hall of Kaer Trolde, it felt a little silly but I could well and easily imagine just how terrifying it would be to hear that noise coming out of the mist in the pre-dawn light.

Roary rose and he was a terrifying man to behold. Bright red hair framed a heavily bearded face. He seemed to have done little to groom either his hair or his beard and as a result, his hair fell as a set of long matted tails. Rumour had it that he tied blades into them for when the battles started. There seemed to be things in his beard. Charitably, these things were charms, rings, jewellery and knots. Less charitable people said that they were long lost morsels of food that had been enveloped by the hair.

According to legend, the beard itself was a monster that had latched onto Lord Roary's chin that would detach itself in the middle of the night and strangle Roary's enemies.

He wore a suit of skins that were badly stitched together and seemed mostly held together by straps. His clothes and his bare chest were covered in stains of various kinds. He carried two mismatched axes into battle. Both of them ugly and utterly terrifying to look at.

He laughed as he rose to his feet.

"Well." He began. "Fuck me sideways with a branding iron. If you had told me this fucking morning that I would be boasting before the fucking Queen as to why I would make a good Jarl, I would have knocked your fucking teeth in and ripped off your fucking dick at the same time."

He had an odd accent. Higher pitched than I was expecting and it was almost sing-song in nature. He pronounced "Fucking" as "fookin'" which leant his entire speech and almost comical tone to it so that the entire hall was laughing as he spoke. The charisma of the man was awesome.

"You all know me," He went on. "Roary the red, Roary the Bloody." He grinned. "Roary the fucking mad." The crowd laughed at what I guessed was a running joke. "My lads and I have sunk ships un-fucking-counted and raided shores that no fucking others have dreamed of. I was with my Father when he raided the fucking Capital of Nilfgaard, her Imperial fucking Majesty's pardon of course."

He made an elaborate bow in the direction of Ciri who acknowledged the gesture with a smile and a wave.

" My crew fucking sailed right past the Novigrad harbour to raid Oxenfurt and then sailed out again without letting any fucker know that we had passed."

There was more cheering and more laughter.

"I am told that the fucking Kings of Cidaris and Vergen had to club together to raise enough money for fucking bounty hunters to even consider coming after me and that, even then, no-one will even fucking consider it."

I felt myself assessing the field. Dreng and Helfdan still to come. But this man, in my judgement, had more charisma than both Dreng and Helfdan put together. Men followed Helfdan and Dreng but this man here could lead nations.

"There is not a fucking town on the Cidaris coast that has not been raided and sacked, by me and mine, twice." The roar of approval began to grow and Roary's voice grew to drown it out. "And all of that went to fatten Jarl Holger's purse and paid his taxes for him."

There was more laughter as Holger nodded his acknowledgement of this point.

"No-one dares raid my fucking lands because they know what I'll do to them. My people stand tall and fucking proud as well and not a one of them goes fucking hungry. Ever." His tone had turned serious. He sighed and hung his head as the hall hushed around him. Then he shook his huge shaggy head.

"I would make a fucking great Jarl." He said, a little sadly I thought. "I would fill the treasury of Skellige and my people would grow fat and if I was in the South of Ard Skellig, foreign sailors would sail for days to stay out of my territory. But you shouldn't make me Jarl my Lords, my Queen."

He bowed to the dais as he said "Queen."

"You should make Lord Helfdan Jarl." He said pointing at Helfdan. "The only man in this hall that has ever out-sailed me. He once raided a port that I said was impregnable and he brought all his men back as well. I couldn't have done that. Fucking make him Jarl. I would follow him in a heart-beat."

He sat down abruptly as the crowd roared in approval and shock. I saw the Jarls exchanging glances.

I turned to Svein, mystified.

"It's actually the height of honour to acknowledge a better opponent. Never back down from a fight, but acknowledge your betters. That's the way of things." He shrugged at the strangeness of Skelligan customs.

"What an extraordinary man." I commented, even as I winced at the shrill calls of Roary's warriors.

I did get to talk to Lord Roary afterwards and he laughed at my comments on his men's behaviour. "All of warfare is about what goes on in the mind." He told me. "Something that your Svein Hard-hand knows well. If an enemy is afraid, confused, tired or despairing then he might as well lay down in his grave already. So if there's anything that needs doing anyway, that you can turn into a way to put the fear of the Gods into an enemy. Then I do it. You hear howling, but my men call out signals of where they are. Each howl has it's reason and it's message. The time to get ready for my coming is when we all howl together."

The crowd roared for a long time after Roary's declaration. Almost to the point where even the Skald's presence could not get people to calm down enough to pay attention. As it was, he was stood there on the dais with his arms raised for a long time. Far longer than he had previously.

"My Friends." He called out. "My friends, we have a lot to think about and it is true that we have a lot to discuss on the matters of these various things. But I must ask for silence so that the next man should speak. Otherwise we will still be here come morning and I am an old man." He made his voice comically weak and feeble. "Have pity on on an old man. I need my bed and a warm cup of milk and... and..."

One of the other Skalds removed their own cloak and draped it round the shoulders of the old Skald to much laughter as the pair carried out a brief pantomime of the younger taking the older off to sit down while the crowd chanted. Then the Skald, taking the strength from the roars of the crowd heroically regained his strength, threw off the cloak and returned to the front of the hall again.

I laughed along with everyone else. It was a well done display and I was enjoying myself.

"Lord Helfdan The Bastard of Clan An Craite." The Skald spoke up.

The hall all turned to Helfdan who looked as though he would have been much happier sailing into the maw of some giant sea monster or worse. He rose with the air of a man doing what he had to do.

"I have nothing to boast about." He said, so quietly that people had to strain to hear him. "Everything I have done, I did with the aid of others. I am no Lord without the people around me. I cannot Captain a Longship by myself. I cannot fight an army on my own. I cannot defend a town without warriors to stand on it's walls and I cannot bring in the harvest without those men, and women, who know more about crops and herds than I have ever dreamed about."

He was warming to his subject now and gaining in his confidence.

"So all I have to boast about is those men that follow me. Just from my most recent of voyages. I would not have known about Lord Rymer's ambush without two skilled scouts. One of which has already stood before you today named Kar. The other was a man who died at the end of a Nilfgaardian blade named Perrin. More men would have died that day, including Lord Rymer himself, or even myself if it hadn't been for the prowess of my champion. Himself killed at the end of a Nilfgaardian arrow. Ursa the bear fought for me and in doing so, he ensured that I, my fellows and Captain Rymer and his crew, survived to serve the crown in the future.

"I can boast of Svein Hard-hand. The man who led a group of men across a beach to fight the Frost-giants. He protected me against the treachery of Captain Finnvald and it was his training that ensured that we were able to fight quite as hard as we did. Although there is no way of telling who leads the strongest war-band on the islands, I would proudly place my men in such a contest and that is solely due to the skill of Svein Hard-Hand.

"And his wife. My lands are safe. No bandit dares enter my lands or if they do, they move with as much stealth as they can manage and only do so to get from one place to another. This because otherwise the precautions that Yngvild has put into place means that our farmers are defended, our roads are safe and because those self-same bandits know that if they break the Queen's Law, or the King's law before her, then Yngvild's retribution would be swift and unspeakably violent. It is for the same reason that my village has not been raided in years. The last time anyone tried, their ships were already burning before they made it to harbour and their people had to be pulled from the sea, by us, to save them from drowning.

"I can go on and on and on. Each and every man and woman under my rule is better than me and it baffles me as to why they choose to follow such as I.

"Even new friends here. Kerrass, Master Witcher of the Feline school. Another who helped us with the Ice Giants. Without his help, advice and protection, how many of my men would have been carried from the beach by harpies when we were forced to take shelter from the weather. How many more of my people would have fallen to the clubs of Frost-trolls and Ice-giants without his skills and experience.

"And the Scribbler. Frederick von Coulthard as is. Without his aid, we would not have known where to look, or how to achieve the Queen's will. He will downplay his own involvement and do his best to pretend that his contribution is less than it actually is. But I saw his hand fell a troll and drag my wounded warriors from a battlefield where they would have been trampled under foot otherwise.

"And old enemies turned welcome friends. Like Cirilla who I hated in my youth but who I would now die for. Her wit, charm and understanding has chased away a lot of the ghosts of my childhood and she stands now a wiser person than I, by far. I would gladly sail with her to the ends of the world and back again.

"Those three. Just three of them, boarded an enemy ship and drove it onto the rocks to save my people. There are many who contributed to my survival and the survival of my men that day but you can see three of them sat right there.

"And it is on the backs of their effort that I boarded the Skeleton Ship. Make no mistake, that without them, I would not have got there."

He paused as his throat seemed thick with something. He took a small drink from his cup in an effort to clear the blockage

The crowd was utterly silent.

"I have nothing to boast about. Nothing that I have done. There are plenty of things that we have done. The people sat at this, my table, as well as those men who lie in unmarked graves, at the bottom of the sea or in some monster's belly. Still more men that float on the wind in amongst the ash of their funeral pyres."

It took him another moment to master himself. I have no idea what was happening or why. Whether it was the pressure of speaking before so many people or the emotion of the moment that was making it tricky, but the entire hall stood and waited for him to master himself

"The only thing that I can boast about. The only thing that I have that is worth boasting about, is the people that come with me and who, for reasons passing my understanding, insist on following my orders and binding themselves to me with oaths of fealty. I do not comprehend why they keep doing that."

Helfdan took a deep breath and lifted his eyes to stare at the Queen.

"I am here on the backs of brave men and women, of strong men and women. I am literally carried here into this hall by men and women who insist on dying for me and in my service while steadfastly refusing to allow me to die in theirs."

He sat down in deathly silence.

There was such confusion in his voice during the last part of his speech that it made more than one person in the hall a little emotional. I carefully looked around, not wanting to break the spell and I could see people nodding in agreement. Still others had hung their heads and were looking at their feet. Jarl Donar turned away while Jarl Udalryk didn't even bother to hide the fact that he had to wipe tears from his eyes.

There was a scraping noise.

"And that," Svein said, before pausing to allow Yngvild to rise and stand next to him, is precisely why we follow you. You let me be the best I've ever been. That's why I, that's why we follow you."

Thorvald stood, as did Kar, Kerrass and I were not far behind. Even Ciri stood.

Still the hall was silent. We closed in a little bit as Helfdan was dealing with some, rather complex issues before he looked up at us all and nodded his gratitude and we all sat down into deathly silence.

The silence stretched.

"By the fucking Gods." Lord Roary bellowed abruptly. Tear tracks stood out on his filthy face. "Are we not going to fucking cheer that?

Roary's men exploded out of their seats, hollering and stamping their feet. Jarl Holger was not far behind him and the cheer began to spread around the hall. It was beautiful.

Poor old Dreng never stood a chance.

He did his best but it was clear to everyone involved that his heart wasn't in it. He gave a rote account of his deeds, enemies that he had defeated, battles that he had fought at and with the crowning acheivement that he had spoke truth to the crown regarding the treachery of his Jarl which proved his honour. But there was no passion in his delivery, no strength in his voice. He was going through the motions and even though, objectively, he had done more and in more impressive ways than men like Isgault or Hragnelf. The cheering and applause that met his recounting of deeds was less than either of those two men.

And all that that left, was the decision. Personally speaking, I was pretty sure who would get chosen but there was a tension in the air nonetheless.

The Skald stepped to the front of the hall.

"Now the other Jarls get to make their choice. Each of them have had placed on their table, the carvings and totems that their people have seen fit to place there. So now they must decide where to place those statues and carvings. To place them on the tables of the men that may join them in the council of Jarls. Who will guard all their southern borders. They have much to decide. Much to weigh and think about if they are going to make their choices at their best. For make no mistake, there will be another Jarl chosen in this hall tonight. We are about to witness history being made. So Lords Jarl? I retire the hall to you."

He bowed and gestured with a flourish.

The other Jarls spent a large amount of time looking at each other. During which time silence turned into whispering in the halls. The sound of wagers being laid and speculation running rampant. Opinions were made about the declarations of the five men and what might happen. I listened a bit. I was shocked to discover that Dreng was so much of a dark horse. It would seem that absolutely no-one thought that he would get voted to the position although, looking back, I can see it more clearly now.

Skelligans vote with their hearts and their souls rather than with their heads.

The tension stretched.

"Fuck this." Holger said, rising to his feet. He picked up his arm-load of carvings. He placed a pair of trophies on Roary's table but the rest of them were placed on Helfdan's table.

The betting increased.

"Remember who was first at naming you Helfdan." Holger said. "Remember who your friends are."

Udalryk stood then looking tall and grim with his lone remaining eye reflecting fire-light. He divided his statues into three equal parts. One third went to Isgaut, another went to Hragnelf and the third went, much to the crowd's astonishment, to Helfdan. He stopped and spoke to each of the Lords briefly. I don't know what he said to Isgaut or Hragnelf but Kerrass heard him tell Helfdan "I like that you're a Queen's man."

Donar and Throst rose almost together. Throst, almost carelessly dumped his few statues on Helfdan's table. His people were too few in the harbour to have won many trophies so he only had three to show for it. Donar divided his between Isgaut and Dreng before placing two lone statues on Helfdan's table.

"I would have put more down," he told the table. "If the issue was in more doubt. Well spoken Helfdan, well spoken indeed. A fact that too many of us, all of us forget. Two lessons for Skellige from your table tonight. Well spoken indeed."

The last to come was Hjalmar. He had been whispering to his warriors while the other Jarls were handing out their statues. Each of the An Craite statues were picked up by one of Hjalmar's sailors with the leftovers being picked up by some of the guards. Then as one, the statues were placed on Helfdan's table.

"I didn't want to make it too..." Hjalmar began. "I didn't want it to be said that I was showing favouritism or playing politics." He said. "You were always my man and I will look forward to working with you as my southern neighbour."

Helfdan rose and moved to take Hjalmar's hand. "Thank you my Jarl."

Hjalmar grinned. "Not for much longer."

"You and your father took me and mine in when you didn't have to." Helfdan told him. "You will always be my Jarl."

Hjalmar was moved by that and pulled a startled Helfdan into an embrace where he whispered something fiercely which instantly stilled Helfdan's struggling. When they pulled apart, Helfdan was frowning in thought.

The winner was obvious to everyone. We had had to move our drinks to make room for the statues that were piled high on Helfdan's table.

I looked around a bit. Svein was elated and holding in his joy with some difficulty. Yngvild, his wife was also beyond pleased but she was already thinking. Knowing the woman a little bit, I suspect that she was already coming up with plans and schemes as to how to protect Helfdan's new holdings. Kerrass was also moved as well. Ciri looked thoughtful, undeniably pleased for Helfdan, but I could tell that she was scheming something. There was a glint in her eye that I almost felt that I recognised for a moment until I realised that it reminded me of Francesca.

I had not wanted that reminder in that moment and I found myself hanging my head.

I didn't have too much time for moping though.

"Then it is plainly obvious who the new Jarl is to be." The Skald said with a smile before making his face formal and turning back towards the Queen. "Majesty. It is my duty, honour and joy to present to you your new Jarl. He has been chosen according to tradition and law with the witness of the Gods and the nature of the islands themselves. I present Lord Helfdan as the new Jarl.

"Impossible, he is a bastard." Someone protested from the direction of clan Heymaey. It might have been Isgaut or one of his other followers but I didn't turn in time to see. I did see Jarl Donar turning to look and there was more than one rumble of agreement by the others that were there. "He is not of the blood." Someone shouted.

"Correct." The Skald stood forward and yelled, suddenly the stern task master. "He is not of the blood. He is not descended from the original stock. But despite that, he still managed to gather more plaudits and victories. He inspired more confidence than every other candidate for the table. What does that say about tradition? What does that say about the blood?

"I'll tell you what I think it says. I think it tells us that those of us that do have the blood in our veins have become too complacent with it. That we have grown used to our inherited privilidge. Helfdan and men like him need to prove things and as a result, they are beginning to surpass us."

I hid a smile. That the response was so quick to come meant that people had already thought of any problems that others might have with the choice in advance. This was planned and rehearsed. People had thought up what kind of objections might be made and had answers ready.

"Bastard he is..." The Skald went on. "...and despite that, he and his men have taught the hall three things today. The first is to treat our Thralls with more respect less they turn on us, the second is to understand that we are nothing without the men that follow us. The third is that blood and heritage is no longer a guarentee of quality, the one of us over the other. How many of the rest of us even acknowledge those truths before his coming? How many more things will he teach us before he is done teaching us things?"

"ENOUGH." The Queen thundered and the hall quietened instantly. I decided to call that the Queen's "I'm fucking done," voice.

"The decision is made." The Queen went on. "Lord Helfdan? Do you accept this charge?"

Helfdan was looking at the table and needed to be prodded into awareness by the grinning Svein.

"Hmmm? Wha'? I mean, I do. Of course I do."

"Then..."

"I would only ask..."

Cerys laughed. "Newly made Jarl and he's already asking for things from the Queen."

The crowd laughed with her while Helfdan's expression didn't change.

"I'm sorry Lord Jarl," The crowd gasped as the Queen asked the question. "What would you ask?"

"I would only ask..." He blinked and stuttered for a moment. My guess is that his ears caught up with the rest of him as he realised what he had just been called. "I would only ask that my original village be included in my territory. The place is dear to me."

The Queen laughed. "I think that that can be arranged. What say's Jarl An Craite?"

Hjalmar was laughing. "Consider it a gift. Jarl Helfdan."

Helfdan nodded. Then he grinned suddenly and he seemed as though he was a child of eleven. "Jarl Helfdan." He said before he staggered, needing to be caught by a laughing Svein as a spell of dizziness affected him. The crowd took it in good humour as Helfdan staggered towards the dais and the throne. One of the guards had produced Helfdan's sword from the back and had handed it to Hjalmar who, in turn, held it out for Helfdan who took it before offering it hilt first to Cerys, his Queen.

"I am your man Majesty." He said, loudly, carefully and clearly.

Popular opinion has it that the crowd was unanimous in it's adulation of the gesture. That Helfdan was cheered into his position by the five-hundred men and women that were in attendance that night. I would dearly like to say that was so but I'm afraid it wasn't. Helfdan was not a universally popular choice. There were a not insignificant number of traditionalists that bemoaned the fact that Helfdan, a bastard and the chief architect of the downfall of another traditionalist, would be elevated to the position of Jarl over lands that had previously been held by one of the arch-traditionalists in the ficure of the Madman Lugos.

Donar and Udalryk moved to quell this almost immediately but that sentiment was still there. There were also a number of the other foreigners that were unhappy with Helfdan's appointment as it was their shores that Helfdan had been raiding since he had first begun to captain his own crew. Neither the Redanian, Temerian or the Nilfgaardian factions were pleased despite Ciri, the Empress being among the first to throw her arms round the newest Jarl of the islands in joy.

It will also become a matter of popular belief that the banner of the Black Boar was unfurled that evening in the hall for all to see and that men lined up to swear their alleigence to the new Jarl in their droves. So much so that many of them needed to be turned away but I'm afraid that this is not the case.

The banner was actually unfurled two days later. Simply because it took that long for the Seamstresses to sew and get the banner right. The new clan was not named that night of selection as Helfdan, to all intents and purposes appeared to have had no idea that he was going to win. So he hadn't decided on what it was going to be called.

What happened was that he spent the rest of that night in something of a daze before he retired for the night.

The evening had already gone on for far longer than anyone had thought it was going to go on for and people were done with the drama of things and wanted it to stop. I did understand that, originally, there would have been some people swearing oaths to the now Jarl Helfdan. Indeed, I understand that there was more than one person that was upset that they weren't able to do precisely that.

But Helfdan was clearly exhausted. I instantly appointed myself his court chancellor, chamberlain and herald and spent most of the rest of the night heading off well-wishers, merchants and others who wanted to take advantage of the fact that he was clearly falling down tired. I wanted to make sure that he was alright and relaxed and things. I was not the only person that was concerned about his well-being as I soon noticed that his people were arranged in such a way that for any dignitary to get to Helfdan, they had to go through me first.

And I was flanked by a belligerent Witcher on one side and a sweetly smiling Vampire on the other.

I did see a few things though. I noticed that all of the remaining Jarls came to offer their congratulations and I was pleased to notice that none of them were stingy with their praise. They seemed genuinely pleased by the way that things had turned out and had no problem at all letting people know what they thought of the matter.

Ciri could be seen spending a bit of time talking closely with the Queen who was watching what was going on around Helfdan closely and carefully. As well she might but I wondered if I was imagining a predatory light in the Queen's eyes.

Helfdan soon made his apologies though, and retired before vanishing from view the next day. I wasn't too concerned though as both Svein and Yngvild had gone with him, leaving messages that no-one should worry and that Helfdan would return that evening to make some announcements and so that things regarding the new clan should be discussed.

The Queen also dissappeared from view. Apparently she was in talks with a number of people so those people that want to link Helfdan's disappearance with the Queens in order to make it something salacious need to have their heads examined. The Queen was tied up with matters of state. She had a nation to run after all. A nation that was on it's way out of a period of deprivation, change and other, less savoury factors. My understanding was that she was talking with Lord Ermion about what help the Druids could provide regarding the recovery of crops in the face of the extra cold, how much food and things could be traded for, or otherwise procured, from the continent.

She also spent a bit of time with the Skalds and things, working out exactly how much land the new Jarl would be able to call his own as well as how many people and what other things that they could administer and gift to the new clan in order to make the land their own.

Whereas Helfdan had gone riding in order to think. He was seen in town talking to a few people but otherwise, I'm told that he took to horse and rode out the main gate with Svein and Yngvild alongside him. I spent the day trying to get back to normal. It would not be unfair to say that the last few weeks had been times of high adventure, high stress and high emotion. I felt the need to ground myself. I spent some time training with Kerrass who, for my money, was feeling a little bit the same. I also walked with Ariadne a while and I spent some time writing letters and putting some of my notes from the early parts of my Skelligan adventures into shape.

I was beginning to dread the prospect of departing these shores and I wanted to be able to cushion the blow. To put off what was coming next in all the small ways that I could. I was not entirely successful

Helfdan returned in the early evening. I don't know what he had done to ground himself a little but he seemed calmer and relaxed for the benefit of his small time away. Svein and Yngvild also seemed as though they had reaffirmed their love for each other as well as their devotion to Helfdan. I had no idea what had happened during the day and I never asked.

The feast was given. It was the eighth day of festivities and even though there was only supposed to be seven days of partying for the thaw, it was felt that an extra day to celebrate the new clan was warrented. No-one complained as the food came freely and an extra day away from the pressures and the work that would come with the ending of all these feasts and partying.

Helfdan was the guest of honour this time, but now he seemed much more prepared for it. He shook hands and spoke with all of those that came to see him. I didn't allow myself to drift too far from his side. Ready to leap in and protect him from overly hungry merchants and courtiers at any moment. An effort that he seemed grateful for. Some hours into it, the Queen called for order and raised her hands.

"It has been decided." She said. "The new clan will be called Clan Baedd Du with Jarl Helfdan as it's Jarl. Their demesne will be based in what was the lands of Clan Drummond with their Capital at Holmstein and Kaer Muire. With the addition of the Hidden village as well, granted by Clan An Craite generosity.

There was a short period where men pounded their feet on the floor and fists on the table in acclimation. It was a display that stirred the blood and got men nodding.

"Jarl Baedd Du will leave here in the morning to travel south and survey his lands. Who will go with him as his lords and Hersir. Who will stand guard in his halls and guard his family while they sleep? Who will swear themselves to the banner of the Black Boar? The crown invokes the law of free oath-swearing."

I should explain this really as I had to check how this works myself. The way it happens on the foundation of a new clan is that men are allowed to ask for release from any existing Jarls or oaths before offering their service to the new Lord. That way, existing Jarls can maintain any power that they want or need to keep hold of. They can be joined by any Thralls that might suit or be released to new service after the oaths are sworn. I am told that this is rarer but it does bear relevence.

But also so that the new Jarl has the right and ability to turn away any that he disagrees with. I understand that the tradition has been used before for existing Jarls to foist their least competent and powerful Lords and Captains on the new Jarl. A similar thing had happened when Clan Tordarroch had moved back to retake Undvik and Jarl Throst was not strong enough to reject the help. He really did have his hands tied about taking what he could get when he went back there.

The other Jarls in the room did not appear surpised or outraged by this and my guess was the there had been some discussion about it already. Therefore meaning that people had already, or should have already spoken about who wanted to go, who would be allowed to go and so on and so forth.

"In the absence of his own hall and given the sudden and unexpected nature of his elevation, I invite Jarl Baedd Du to stand beside me in order to accept all of those who would swear to his banner."

Helfdan rose. He still looked a little pale to my eyes but he was bearing up well. He walked to stand on the dais, I noticed that he needed a little coaxing to stand quite as tall. He wanted to stand just below the throne itself rather than on the same level, but Cerys seemed to tease him onto the stage gently until he stood beside her.

"So," The Queen asked once Helfdan was properly positioned. "Who will swear their oaths to the Jarl of Baedd Du and forge a new legacy?"

She stepped back.

"I will." Svein said, to the cheering of our entire table. I remained seated, as did Kerrass and Ciri, but all the rest of them rose to their feet and cheered.

"Svein." Helfdan nodded and Svein walked forward with Yngvild beside him. They went to kneel first but Helfdan stopped them.

"No." He told them. "No-one kneels to me. I would have my people stand."

They nodded.

"You have my sword." Svein told him simply. "You have my heart, my head and anything you wish. I would not be parted from your side unless my presence is a trial. I am your most devoted servant and for as long as your line endures, then so to my line will stand next to yours."

Yngvild's eyes shone with pride.

"My husband speaks for me also." She said. "No others would have given me what you have given me. I am a warrior and a good one. Other men accept shield-maidens in battle but few would elevate one as high as you have elevated me. And never after they have been pregnant and given birth. We serve you Lord, if you will have us."

Helfdan nodded and embraced them both.

"Nor would I want any thing less." He smirked. "Besides, without the pair of you, who will tell me what to do? I didn't want to speak for you though, if you wanted to go I would have..."

"Pssshhhh." Svein waved him off and the audience laughed.

Helfdan nodded. "So I see no reason why your roles will not remain the same. Svein I name you Hersir and Warlord of my people. It will keep you on land more than you were before which just goes to prove that everything works out in the end. We will have more folk to train and forge into a force that the Queen may use as she sees fit."

"I am honoured and I will so serve." Svein said formally. "Although I would rather sail with you."

Helfdan shrugged. "I am beached until a new ship is built anyway. I would also grant you the lands that were once mine. The Hidden village. I ask only that you maintain me a room for when I have a yearning for that valley and honour existing promises that I made regarding the crew of the Wave-Serpent."

"I would be proud." Svein was clearly moved by the gesture. "I will have the others oaths as soon as I may. Otherwise we will be here forever."

Helfdan nodded. "Yngvild?"

"Lord Jarl?"

"I name you formally, the Master of my guard although you will have much more to defend than before. I charge you with the defense of my lands when I am away and give you the rights to do so as you see fit. I hope that this is suitable."

"It is."

"I also hope that this solves other potential..." Helfdan was genuinely worried about something.

"Lord." Yngvild hugged him again. "I meant what I said. We are yours."

Helfdan nodded. Reassured.

The husband and wife sat back down.

"Who else will swear?" The Queen asked after taking a moment for the crowd to accept what had just happened.

"I will." Captain Rymer rose from where he had been sitting amongst the gathered sailors of Clan An Craite. "Jarl Helfdan treated me with more honour and respect than the Lord to whom I was sworn. Even while I was his enemy and opponent on the field. I find that I like that and would serve a man that leads men to those kinds of values."

He moved and stood before Helfdan formally.

"I bring fifty warriors with their wives and their families. I am beholden to Jarl An Craite due to the terms of the Thralldom that you yourself set, but he has graciously allowed me to use that Thralldom in helping you establish your realm. After that, if you will have me, I am your man."

Helfdan frowned for a moment as he considered things before nodding. "Glad to have you Lord Rymer. I cannot promise you lands as I have not assessed what there is. We might also need to take that land back from whichever pirate or bandit might be holding onto it."

"I understand." Rymer told him. "Then you have my sword, my heart and my service as well as the service of my line and those sworn to me, for as long as you want it."

The two clasped hands, wrist to wrist. I was glad to see Helfdan's people cheering.

"Who else?" The Queen asked.

"I will." Lord Roary the Red rose to his feet to some cheering and good natured jeering. "I would have jumped in fucking sooner but that bastard Rymer beat me to it. The fucker. Besides, there needs to be someone of sense, character and wit sworn to the Black Boar."

There was more laughter.

"As I said before. The only man that can outsail me on the seas. The killer of the unkillable. The raider of the Unraidable. I will serve a man like that. Jarl Holger gave me permission as is proper and I would see what I can make of myself in a new island. And I'm told that Jarl Holger can't spend all the fucking plunder I keep giving him."

There was more laughter as Roary went and stood before Helfdan.

"I am not a gentle man." Roary told him. "Nor am I a good man or an honourable one. But I wish I was better. What I am is yours if you will have it. I bring two ships. Seventy warriors and craftsmen as well as their wives and families. We are not rich."

Helfdan looked a little disapproving. "I run a tight ship Lord Roary." He said. "You will be expected to be honourable and you will be expected to fight hard."

"Sounds like a fucking challenge." Roary shouted with relish. "I'm game for it if you are."

Helfdan considered a little longer. Then nodded.

"Then my axes and my ships are yours." Roary said formally. "You poor fucker."

The crowd laughed and cheered and even Helfdan managed a smile.

"Who else?" The Queen asked.

There was a pause. A long one before there was the sound of a bench scraping. "I will." Dreng called out into the crowd. "I will." He said again as he moved into the light.

One of the other men of Clan Tuirseach spat as Dreng passed him. Dreng ignored it but Skallagrim did not. He rose as Dreng moved forward and grasped the spitter by the back of the neck and slammed the offending idiot's face into the table before forcibly dragging him to an exit and throwing him out.

Dreng ignored the entire commotion as he moved although he looked desperately unhappy as he stood before Helfdan.

"It has been a long passage of time and years Helfdan." Dreng said.

"There is a lot of bad blood between us Dreng." Helfdan responded carefully.

"Yes." Dreng admitted unhappily. "Yes there has." He stood for a moment looking at the floor. "I was jealous of you I think. So very jealous."

There was another long pause.

"I have hated you for a long time Helfdan." Dreng went on. He seemed to want Helfdan to join in the conversation but the other man said nothing. "A very long time. It took me a long time to realise why. Long after Father told me why I hated you in fact, but it took all this time to see it."

He shrugged bitterly.

"You are better than me." He said simply. "And instead of admitting that and learning from it and using that to fill the holes in my own skills. I insisted that I was the better and took every chance to force you down to make myself look better." Bitterness clogged his words and he shook his head. "But you were always better than I and I hated you for that. But now...?"

Helfdan still said nothing.

"Now I find that I long for that. I long for the simplicity of your outlook. The simplicity of serving a man that I respect. I had forgotten what that felt like until you stood in this hall and told us of the lies and the small deceits that Ingimund had performed. I realised that you were right. I admired you and I found myself wondering about the last time I had admired my Jarl."

He shook his head again.

"I would serve a man that I admire again. I bring three ships. Merchants, Craftsmen, a hundred warriors, proven veterans all. I also bring Lodin Halladsson. Ship-wright and grandson of the man that built the Wave-Serpent. It seems only fitting that he too, comes to serve you."

There was a long pause as Helfdan considered.

Then he nodded.

Dreng went to kneel before Helfdan caught him.

"I told you." Helfdan said. "No man kneels in my service except to the Queen."

Dreng nodded. "Another difference between you and the man I used to serve. I swear my sword, my arm and my heart to you Lord Helfdan." Dreng held his hand out.

Helfdan knocked the hand aside and embraced the stricken man.

It was not a long embrace and it seemed to shock them both.

"I cannot name you my heir Dreng." Helfdan began.

"Nor would I want you to." Dreng told him, interrupting Helfdan's flow. A shadow passed over Helfdan's face.

"But... It will be good to call you my Brother again." Helfdan finished.

A slow smile spread across Dreng's face. "Yes. Yes it will again."

The two men embraced again. Dreng approached our table as more men of Tuirseach moved over to stand with us. I was glad to see Svein rise and embrace Dreng like a comrade in arms as well.

Skallagrim moved to stand in the middle.

"Jarl Hjalmar." He said. "I am sorry, but I was forced to remonstrate with an idiot in your hall. I apologise for that display as some small blood was spilled."

Hjalmar laughed. "You only did what I would have done faster than I could manage."

"Then I would also offer my service to jarl Helfdan. I come with no ships, no warriors and no craftsman. But I come with an axe, a wife and two sons that will join me in his service. I too desire to serve a Lord who deserves my blade."

Helfdan took the oath. "I have need of a champion." He said.

It went on for a while after that. Individual warriors came and went. Men wanting to make a name for themselves. Those men sworn to Roary, Dreng and Rymer as well as the remains of the Wave-Serpent who renewed their vows.

It was a long night. A night with much drinking, much eating and many oaths of eternal friendship being sworn over those aforementioned buckets of ale. I swore vows of companionship, friendship, affection and all of the other things that I were thought of by everyone concerned. I declared drunken love for those men and women and I stood with them all as they wept and vomited said affection down the privy.

I might even have had the interesting experience of having to hold the Empress' hair out of the way while she puked her guts up into one of Queen Cery's garden plants. She might protest differently but I was there, I know what I saw and I know what I did.

The fact that she will claim, just as seriously, to have steered me towards one of those places where it was safe to vomit up yesterdays breakfast is a pure fabrication that the honourable lady concocted in order to embarrass me.

Don't let her tell you any different.

I will not deny, however that I got embarassingly drunk. I got drunker than I ever remember being. I got so drunk that my scalp hurt and I ached down to the ends of my hair. It was another release and I suspect that we all needed it. Not just to celebrate Helfdan's elevation to the lofty heights that he had managed in a society that hated him and men like him for so long. Nor just to celebrate Svein and Yngvild. One a formerly disgraced member of Clan Drummond and his wife who argued often and loudly, well into her own cups of course, that no other Lord would have entrusted the position of Captain of his guard to a woman.

She might have been right as well. I cannot answer for that. But I did have the chance to meet her properly and to answer her question of whether or not I was single, as well as whether or not I would be tempted to marry one of her daughters.

This despite the fact that Ariadne was standing next to me. Ariadne did not comment and handled the situation with grace under fire and sufficient aplomb.

For her part, Ariadne was enjoying herself. She took up a very familiar stance to me. In that she was at my side throughout the festivities, always watching and taking notes. As though she was recording the entire event for future dissection and amusement. I can well imagine that some of those words and actions will be produced on cold winter's nights of our future in order to embarrass me into doing whatever it is that she wants. I am mostly alright with that.

But Ariadne kept up with us all. Even though Alcohol does not effect Vampires in the same way that it does humans, she was still able to have a good time and enjoy herself and was able to get, at least, a little bit tipsy with it.

This time though, it was her turn to turn a very drunk and very amourous Scholar down. Like I had with everyone else I had allowed the alcohol to lend me courage and fortitude that I might not have had otherwise and I attempted to talk the Vampiress into bed. She laughed, kissed me and fended off my drunken advances with due care and affection to ensure that my feelings were not too damaged in the meantime.

I also reaffirmed my friendship with Kerrass. It was clear to us both that we had been through a lot together and that that was worth celebrating. Like with Ariadne we had a lot to say to each other that would not have been said under normal circumstances and not much of it is for public consumption. He thanked me for bringing him to Skellige so that he could feel the warmth of friendship and things that he would not have been able to enjoy otherwise.

Hjalmar joined us for a bit but didn't stay too long. This was a time for the new clan to get to know each other. To forge those bonds that would carry them, carry us, through the hard times to come into a future that would, hopefully be bright. Hjalmar came and toasted Helfdan and Ciri loudly before toasting each of the men that had left their previous clans to join Helfdan on his new enterprise.

Looking back, I almost wish that I had remained sober so that I could watch those early dynamics of the clan form. But I find that I cannot regret it too much.

Various people came and went. The other Jarls came, including the regent from Clan Tuirseach who reminded Skallagrim and Dreng that there would be places for them both with the clan of their birth should this new clan not work out.

He was more convincing when talking to Skallagrim though.

The other Jarls were mostly full of congratulations, made blanket assurances of aid should it be required and wished everyone well.

Even the Queen herself came to wish us all well. I didn't really meet her though. One of the few regrets I have over my time in Skellige was that I didn't get to spend enough time with the Queen or get to know her at all.

But now that I write that phrase down, I wonder at the arrogance that allows me to make that statement.

The Queen came to our table, made her toasts and spent some time talking to Helfdan and his new Cadre of Lords. She spent most of her time with Ciri though who was joined by Ariadne and the three, TERRIFYING women sat there with their heads together discussing things.

At one point, Ciri leant over and said something into the Queen's ear before both of them turned and looked over at Helfdan. Ariadne seemed to have heard what was said although she refuses to tell me what it was. Ciri's face was almost predatory, but also enjoying herself kind of way. The Queen looked thoughtful but not entirely adverse to what she had just been told. Then she nodded back to Ciri and their conversation moved on.

At one point, there was a conversation about the ancestral weapons of the clans. Those suits of armour, swords, spears and the like that each clan has in their possession that carry the story of lineage with them. Often weapons of fables that are no longer anywhere to be seen. Weapons like the Sun Spear and the Club of resurrection.

Someone was bemoaning the lack of artifacts for clan Baedd Du as we didn't have enough warriors or people to go questing to recover anything that was worth the name and I suddenly had an inspiration. I went to my gear and took out Father Gardan's axe which I took to Helfdan.

"Lord Jarl." I told him. "This axe was carried by a great man. Although not all would agree with his politics, he did his best to fight injustice wherever he found it and he fought against it and evil. I have been looking for someone to bear this weapon for a long time. It would honour me greatly if you would accept the axe and add to it's storied lineage. I charge you to use it for what it was created. To protect those that need protecting and to fight against evil wherever it might be."

Helfdan took the axe with a small glimmer of approval in the workmanship of the weapon before giving it a few experimental swings.

Thus almost taking his own head off to much laughter.

"I thank you Lord Frederick for this gift." He said loudly. "I will find someone to wield it who will do you, and the honourable man who formerly wielded it, proud."

It was like a weight off my mind. Like one of those things where you aren't quite aware of just how much you've been worrying about something or how stressed you've been about something before it's taken away. I felt lighter somehow. As though the weights had been removed from my shoulders.

We continued drinking for a long time, laughing and joking. The axe was passed around from man to man who all admired the workmanship and the craftsmanship that went into it. More than one person gave it an experimental swing with a hopeful look at Helfdan as they prayed that they might be worthy of the weapon.

But Helfdan ignored them, dealing with other things.

For my money, the only man who looked as though he might be able to handle the thing properly, or knew how to handle it properly, was Skallagrim. Who took it up, hefted the weapon before swinging it through the air with ease.

"I am not worthy of this weapon." He declared and passed it on to the next person in the line.

Men were beginning to go to sleep when the mood shifted. The long days and nights before this conspired to send many men to their beds before they would normally have gone and I was left with only the really hard-core drinkers by the end of things. I did take a bit of time to notice that I was one of these hard-core drinkers before I stopped worrying about it all.

Dreng, Roary and the others along with the members of the new Clan that had come from outside of Helfdan's initial circle had gone to quarters or left us to some privacy when I found myself looking around at the men and the women that were still sat, or at least vaguely upright, around the table which was when I realised what was happening.

We were all saying Good-bye.

The moment that I realised what was happening was when Svein had his turn with Gardan's axe. Now the axe of Clan Baedd Du. The Silver blade. He took it off the man next to him and examined it in the minutest detail before closing his eyes. "My brother Haakon would have loved this axe." He said. "None would have dared stand before him if he carried it.

I looked at him as he passed the axe on and embraced his wife and the knowledge of the mood surrounding us took root in my brain and my consciousness.

This was not the last time that we would be together. Helfdan had promised a few things that he intended to make good on and was still saying so loudly. But the realisation that things were coming to a close in Skellige and that Kerrass, Ciri and I would soon be moving on, hit me in the face like a War-hammer and I was suddenly a maudlin drunk. The shift can be a subtle one when this happens and had the change not been quite as brutal as it was, I might not have noticed it or otherwise put it down to the end of a long day and a need to go to bed.

But as a wise man once said, "Not all tears are evil" and as a result, the Skelligans accepted my emotions without mocking or teasing. Nor was I the only one weeping at the realisation of it all. I found myself looking at them all, including the Empress and doing my best to remember them all in this context. Conversation shifted to those friends and loved ones that we had lost. Stories had been told many times about the fallen but now those stories took on an extra tone.

Svein and Kar wept for the loss of their brothers. I wept for Ivar, I found that I missed that old man and there were more. So many more.

We drank long into the night. Talking, weeping together and telling stories before eventually, Helfdan insisted that we would all need to get some rest as we all had things to do in the morning.

The argument that the morning was already here seemed to fall on deaf ears with him.

The following morning greeted me, miraculously, without a hangover. Ariadne claimed that I was still drunk and she might have been entirely fair. I did ask if she could mitigate the damage and the later suffering and she told me that she could, but that it would be better if I did that myself using proper and more normal methods.

I got the feeling that she wanted me to suffer.

I went down to breakfast and found that there was an atmosphere about the place of people trying to get back to normal after a party. People were walking around with a purpose. The drunks were being cleaned out and the grand displays were being taken down. The first ships had been sighted that were coming to take the other Jarls back to their home ports and there was a long number in a series of farewells.

The other fleet that had been spotted was the Imperial fleet, coming to take the Empress home while doing any number of errands that she might find to do on the way. Much to Lord Voorhis' exasperation.

Lord Ermion the druid departed that day as well. He came to say goodbye and shook my hand and pretended to hesitate a bit before he took Kerrass' hand.

"You're a good man Witcher." He told the astonished Kerrass.

"I very much doubt that Lord Druid."

"No, I mean it. I will always regret what happened to poor Lennox but..."

"Wait a minute." I burst in. "Poor Lennox?"

"Yes. I found his story very tragic and it is a strong man indeed that can break free of the influence of the whims of Gods and nature. He was not. He was a tool of the Gods and he hated himself for that. I felt sorry for him and I do feel sorry for him, wherever he is."

I let it slide. It doesn't do to argue with Druid's too much.

"But, yes. I will always regret what happened with Lennox and I am sorry for that. I'm sorry that you didn't get what you came for. And I am grateful that you chose to be gentle about it, rather than to torture the information out of him. Or to get some mage to tear the information out of his skull."

I managed to swallow my first response to that which was "If I had known that that was an option then..."

I hated myself a little for thinking that.

Kerrass didn't blink at that though. He had known that it was an option and had dismissed it out of hand. "Such an action might have made exiting problems worse. And I wanted to cover all bases before I went to such drastic extremes." He told the Druid.

"Not all Witchers of my acquintence would do that." Lord Ermion suggested. "Sorceresses either for that matter. Still, I will let you get on. I want to be back at the refuge well before nightfall and see what the mice have been up to while the cat has been away. Smoking their pipes and eating interesting mushromms probably. See you all anon."

With that he strode off for a more private goodbye with Ciri.

The Sorceresses were also making noises about making themselves scarce and Ariadne wanted to depart as well as there was "Business to discuss". I wasn't looking forward to her leaving as we had only had a week together but I was consoled with the fact that we would be spending an entire winter together.

But then Helfdan intervened, preventing Kerrass from going down to the harbour to book us passage back to Novigrad and gathering Ciri, Kerrass, Ariadne and I together in a group.

"I know that the four of you want and need to head on your ways sooner rather than later." He began. "And as your Captain it is my duty to speed you on your way. But I crave your indulgence for a little longer. I must now sail south and survey my new lands and I want to talk to you Frederick and you... Ciri on some of those factors. But then I want to sail back to my own harbour. I do not feel as though the last voyage of the Wave-Serpent is over until I have seen my home harbour and enjoyed the feast of home-coming.

"I promised the three of you that I would feast you in my own hall as guests, but now you are more than that. You fought as part of the crew of the Wave-Serpent on her final voyage and it would seem right to me that you also get to see the end of that.

"And I would like you all to be there."

"I am flattered that you should ask." Ariadne began. "But I did not sail on the vessel although I wish I had been there to help."

"You did not madam but you are the love of one of my ship-mates. That makes you something to me as well and I have things to say to the two of you there."

Ariadne considered and then nodded. "I will go and tell the others that I will meet them in a couple of days and that they can communicate telepathically should anything come up."

We nodded.

"Of course I will come." Ciri said. "I would have had to sail past your port anyway on my way south so... Why not. An extra day or two won't count for much."

"Lord Voorhis might disagree." I teased.

"Lord Voorkis can go..."

"I would be glad to come." I interrupted. "Kerrass?"

"Honoured, Helfdan. Honoured." Kerrass was struggling with the thought of leaving himself. I get the feeling that he would have preferred to pull the bandage away quickly rather than prolong matters but he would later admit that he was finding it impossible to deny Helfdan anything. He wouldn't tell me why but I suspect that there was something there about loyalty and acceptance.

I have no idea what, so don't ask.

So we all piled into Captain Rymer's Longship. Some of his men had stayed behind to gather all of the supplies and materials that we were going to be taking with us. That had been part of the gifts that had been given to Helfdan as part of the formation of the new clan. The majority of the rest of Roary's and Dreng's men were left behind as well other than what they considered to be their closest advisors. Skallagrim joined us, bringing his family with us because, why the hell not.

Hjalmar and the Queen came to see us off. I've had harder partings during Kerrass' and my time together but this one was quite special. I did my best to spend a bit of time in the hall of Kaer Trolde, taking in the details and the way everything worked together. I wanted to bring elements of it to when Ariadne and I have our own place. Some of the elements of etiquette and informality that I had found that I liked.

But then it was time to go. Queen Cerys was formal, wishing us all a fond and grateful farewell as we filed aboard the ship in order to depart. She had words for Helfdan that neither of them shared and she spoke to the others as well. To me, she asked me to be gentle when it came time to record my journies in Skellige. She asked me to think well of them all, even those people that had done me wrong. I told her that I was going to miss her islands and that I was already planning my return visit.

She smiled before moving on down the line.

Hjalmar was much less formal. He gave me a huge hug and a bottle of Skelligan whisky. It's different from Dwarven Whisky in some way. Less harsh and actually a bit smoother than the kinds of spirit that you get coming out of Mahakam and places. He told me to be well. To look after Kerrass for him and that he would see me at my wedding if not before.

I didn't bother asking how he had been invited or who had done the inviting. As regular readers will know, I have known for some time, these matters are mostly out of my hands. That Ciri, Emma and thirdly, Ariadne are taking those matters in hand. Also, Kerrass had promised Hjalmar that he could come to my stag party.

One slightly worrying comment was that Hjalmar promised to bring the stags.

I have no idea what he meant by that.

As we sailed out, Helfdan passed a bundle to Rymer which turned out to be the new Clan standard. There were three of them in total. One was a large one that would be raised over Helfdan's keep when he eventually had one. A second was unfurled at the top of Kaer Trolde as we sailed forth and the third was flown from the top of Rymer's mast as he maneauvred out of the harbour.

There were still more being made but they were the three that seemed to have been a priority for everyone in the meantime.

It is a beautiful standard. It was simple and decisive. A purple field (meaning background for those people who don't know about heraldic terms.) with a black boar outlined in white, charging across it. I do not know who chose the purple but I thought it was rather a clever choice. I understood that Svein wanted to attract those members of Clan Drummond that might still be useful and have a sense of honour. So the colour scheme was suggesting a sense of continuation. I have no idea if it worked, or is working or not.

I rather suspect that if he could have done without a flag, then Helfdan would have been just as happy as he was with one. Another one of those choices where people around him had decided that he deserved a proper banner and symbol, waved some options in front of him and he had chosen one in order to get rid of them and make them stop bothering him.

I still don't know why men call him the black boar by the way. Most nick-names in Skellige seem to have some kind of basis in fact but Helfdan's name seemed to be separate from that.

People lined the harbour itself to see us go. A gesture that was not lost on anyone although I think it embarrassed Helfdan immensely. A lot of the craftsmen left us gifts of various kinds. Many were of the type and flavour of the promises of goods and services in order to help establish the new clan. The innkeeper and his wife were weeping openly as we left. I had worried that our exorcising the spirit of the Skeleton Ship would leave him distraught at the prospect that his family would be without their purpose but he told me that it had left them with a sense of freedom that he had never experienced before. His son still intended to take over the inn when he himself died but after that, anything could happen. Apparently, one son was already preparing to put some things together to open Helfdan's first tavern in Holmstein.

But as Rymer sailed the ship out of the harbour, the gathered warriors and towns folk gathered on the quayside and cheered us as we left.

As I say, Helfdan was mortified but the others cheered with the people. They waved and gestured and roared their own approval back at the waiting people. I stood with Kerrass.

"I don't know what to make of this Freddie." He said quietly. "Normally when I leave a place, people don't even bother to say farewell. It's as though I'm an embarrassment to them and they just want me to go and never return. I can't blame them but this is..." He shook his head.

"Is it truly so awful?" I asked him. "Would it make you feel better if I pointed out that they are also cheering Helfdan and Ciri?"

He chuckled. "More than you might think."

I sighed. I was struggling with more complex emotions than that but I tried for him anyway.

"You did a great thing here Kerrass. Don't get me wrong, the historian in me tells me that in future years, the tale of the last voyage of the Skeleton Ship will forget the presence of the Witcher, the Empress and the Northern Lord. I suspect that people will speak of the Skelligan warlord and founder of Clan Baedd Du and how he stood alone on the deck of the Skeleton Ship to say farewell to it's Captain."

"Helfdan will not allow that."

"No he won't. But you're assuming that he will have a choice in the matter. Hell, it would not surprise me if, even now, men are working somewhere to discover some ancient connection of Helfdan to some line of heroes or another. You mark my words. By the time of his grandchildren. Helfdan will be descended from someone important and the fact that men called him the Bastard will be down to a respectful acknowledgment of his clever tactics."

"Are you just trying to make me feel more miserable?" Kerrass asked.

"No. But I can't help it if my mood is coming out a little." I sighed. "Regardless of all of that. Kerrass, you figured out a solution to a problem that men, women, elf and Vodyanoi have been trying to figure out for centuries. How many lives have you saved in these actions. How many people have you rescued from a horrible death. You did a great thing here Kerrass. You deserve a little acknowledgement and adulation."

He nodded and turned back to me. "So do you Freddie. So do you."

I didn't take that well and retreated from his Witcher's eyes. I was struggling with a feeling fo failure. For all that we had accomplished. I was no closer to finding out what had happened to my sister than I had ever been. I felt that we had wasted our time and that all of these things were for nothing. I thought all of these things and then I felt ashamed of them. Everything that I had said to Kerrass was true. We had done great things and now I was trying to dismiss them because the great things that we had done had nothing to do with what I actually wanted to get done.

I went and stood with Ariadne who was watching it all with her customary fascination. She was stood next to Rymer and asking him a series of questions when he would much rather have been concentrating on what he was doing I'm sure. Given the number of people that were watching him sail. He wanted to do this one thing perfectly and the presence of all of these strange people asking questions was not doing his nerves any good.

I didn't need to tell Ariadne how I felt. She knew, gently wrapping her arms around me and telling me that it was alright and that I didn't need to feel guilty.

But I did.

Rymer had done his best to get Helfdan to sail the ship out of the harbour. He felt that it was an honour that Helfdan deserved, but Helfdan had refused with a look of almost distaste. He told Rymer that it was Rymer's ship and that, as such, it would be inappropriate. So instead, Rymer did it himself with everyone looking on.

He made it out of the harbour without incident and he visibly sagged as he did so despite the un abashed cheering from all aboard. Including Svein and the other survivors of the Wave-Serpent.

As we got out of the harbour we were joined by the Imperial flotilla that arranged themselves in an escort formation around us which also had the side effect of forcing Rymer to slow his speed so that we didn't out run the larger, slower flag ships of the Imperial Navy.

I think that Helfdan and Rymer would have both preferred to ignore this but Ciri had smiled at them both sweetly and the matter was decided.

The ship grew somber as we sailed past that place where the Wave-Serpent had wrecked herself against the shore. There were people there, still working to salvage from the similarly wrecked Nilfgaardian ships. There was also a large funeral pyre that was being added to on a semi-regular basis, mostly men dressed in Nilfgaardian outfits, but the odd Skelligan amongst them as well. Men who we had been unable to salvage who had since been washed ashore. Those of us that survived that massacre stood at the rail and watched that piece of shore-line until it was out of sight and we left to think our own, more private thoughts.

I may have imagined it but I am pretty sure that after passing that place and the multiple wrecked ships, the other men that were with us, particularly Lord Roary and his entourage who seemed to be more aware of sea factors and sea combat, treated us all with that little bit more respect.

It was actually not that long after that that we reached Holmstein harbour. There were already craftsmen there that were repairing the quays from the couple of years neglect that they had suffered in the meantime and there was a considerable beach for the longship to be pulled aboard.

Another brief argument about precedence ensued where Helfdan wanted Ciri to disembark first on the grounds that she was the Empress of the Continent. But she wanted him to disembark first on the grounds that this was his land now and that he should.

Helfdan allowed himself to be persuaded eventually and leapt over the side nimbly to survey his new domain.

Truth be told, it was not that inspiring a sight.

I know, I know that in the stories. A lord is supposed to land in his new territory and bow down to kiss the ground and plants and flowers should bloom instantly. But that wasn't the case.

The omens weren't bad, according to those people that watch for that kind of thing, but the truth of the matter was that Holmstein was not that inspiring. The remains of Clan Drummond had salvaged what they could and taken some steps to make sure that no-one could take advantage of the absense. The keep was in ruins, there were goats, sheep and other animals around the place. There were people there, already starting the work of salvaging and deciding what the various houses could be used for and what buildings could be used again and which needed to just be pulled down.

Helfdan looked around impassively, one hand on his sword hilt, saying nothing. Svein sent a few men out on patrol including a man from each of the guards of the Lords and they ran off but I also noticed that men had loosened their swords and axes in their belts. Also that Yngvild had put her helm on and was standing near Helfdan with the shielf poised.

Helfdan went to three spots. I couldn't have told you what was different about those three spots over any of the other places that he could have stood. But he went there, moving purposefully and then he stood, looking around. It took a while.

Then he nodded.

"Let's go look at the keep." He said before marching up the steps to what remained of the former keep of Clan Drummond, leaving the rest of us to scramble to keep up.

This looked worse than the village had. The village had been left to rot due to neglect and some little combat. But the real damage had been done on the keep. For a start, the keep, to my eyes, was showing signs of neglect and disrespect before any kind of invading army got anywhere near it. To my arm-chair general eyes, it looked old and woefully indefensible. Even before enemy forces had come to sack the place, I got the feeling that there should have been new walls built, the ditches needed to be properly rebuilt and maintained and the stakes that greeted all that kind of thing needed to be properly sighted.

Any modern continental army would have rolled over this thing.

True there were all the existing problems of having to land on the islands in the first place and get enough of a military on the island itself before you could even begin to consider beseiging a castle like this. But even so. That would not have stopped, nor did it stop, another clan from getting here and destroying everything in a suitable radius.

The place smelt of wet ash, animal dung and damp, rotting vegetable matter. It was not a pleasant place. We were quite subdued as we went in. Kerrass found an old torch that he thought might be useful and gestured to light it so that we could at least see where we were going. It wasn't that there was no light. But the keep itself was coming apart at the seams. Small shafts of light seemed to have the strange effect of making the place even gloomier than it was before.

I didn't like it.

Helfdan went in, moving past those of us that were there, in theory, for his protection. He found an old spear or halbard shaft and went rooting round in the debris looking for things. Others joined him. Svein found an old banner of Clan Drummond that he held out for a while with an unreadable expression on his face. His wife joined him and held his hand. Svein folded the flag carefully and tucked it inside his shirt with a strange expression on his face. It was not a big flag. It was possibly from the end of a spear or something, or a side tapestry. Certainly not something that men would follow into battle.

Dreng commented that there hadn't been much of a fight here. That the defending soldiers had seen that there was no hope at all and had all retreated pretty swiftly. That the following troops had burned the keep, because that's what you do when you take an enemies keep before moving after the retreating remnants of Clan Drummond. . He said that it was almost a victory with no battle. But that the war was still being fought even today.

"People should know when they are beaten." He said.

"Would you agree that you were beaten?" Helfdan asked from the other side of the room. "Would I?"

Dreng sighed and kicked a piece of debris into the shadow. "Once, I would have fought until the bitter end. But then I realised that I no longer believed in the cause that I was fighting for."

"What did you do then?" Roary was there. He seemed less of a caricature of himself when he was away from the feasting hall and away from his men. Much calmer and more collected than he had been previously.

Dreng laughed suddenly and the shadow of gloom that had collected over his head seemed to dissipate.

"I changed sides." He said.

Roary laughed. He does that regularly and often. The kind of man who refuses to hide what he is thinking on the grounds that he feels as though he is being dishonest.

Helfdan stopped examining the rooms and moved towards what had once been the dais. He was dragging the reminas of a chair with him. The throne that the madman must have sat upon once was long gone and there was only dirt and filth where it had once stood. Helfdan kicked this aside and placed the schair squarely in the middle of the dais.

"Dreng," He called. "Stand to the right of me. Svein on my left please. Rymer stand with Dreng and Roary, you stand with Svein please."

The four men moved to where Helfdan indicated before Helfdan sat down in the chair. He sat there just long enough for the entire thing to start to feel uncomfortable before Helfdan rose abruptly and marched past all of us.

The chair that he had sat on tipped and gently fell over as we all left the hall.

He stopped once in the outer courtyard and turned to look back at the keep itself for a long moment. I stopped where he stopped and followed his line of sight. He was looking at that place where a banner would fly. He spent a long time looking at an empty patch of sky before he shook his head and marched out to the harbour.

"Is he always like this?" Roary asked Dreng.

"Yes." Svein answered as Dreng shrugged. "Yes he's always like this. And no, I don't know what he's looking for either. Never have and I doubt I ever will. But there was a saying on the Wave-Serpent. "That's why he's the Captain, and we ain't"."

Roary laughed. "I like that. I will keep it."

I remembered the saying. It had been Ivar that had told me that for the first time.

Helfdan gathered us all in the square out before the harbour. Ygritte too although she tried to avoid the gathering.

"There's no getting away from this harbour." Helfdan told us all. Ciri sidled away as she realised that this was clan business.

"There is no getting away from this harbour." Helfdan said again. "In the long run, we are going to have to look at getting some engineers to make this harbour more defensible but for now we will have to make do with it. I have to take care of some business back at my old, now Svein's village which means that he and Ygritte have to come as well."

Dreng looked as though he wanted to protest that.

"Until I have a ship of my own, I'm going to use Rymer to sail me about."

Rymer laughed at that. "I am your Thrall after all." He agreed.

"We are also going to be escorted by the Imperial Flotilla so it won't be a danger. Nor will it take very long. We'll go out there, spend the night and then come back tomorrow so expect us back before midday."

Helfdan's Lords nodded their understanding.

"While I'm away, Dreng acts for me and speaks in my name. Don't get too full of yourself brother,"

Dreng grinned at that. Helfdan did not.

"Because I'm leaving you with a lot to do."

Dreng nodded, serious again.

"Over the next couple of days, all of your... all of our people are going to start to arrive. So the harbour needs to be made servicable. After that, I want everything torn down. Everything."

"Everything?" Svein wondered.

"Everything." Helfdan confirmed again. "We will not found a new clan in the ruins of an old."

There was some nodding to that.

"The castle is unworkable anyway." Helfdan wasn't done. "I warn you now that I'm going to ask the Scribbler here to put me in touch with some Dwarven and Temerian Siege engineers. I want a keep and a harbour that armies and fleets break upon like water."

All of them nodded firmly. Roary grinned savagely.

"We're still in the heights of summer so shelter will not be a problem. There is plenty of game in the immediate area and Clan Drummond will not have been able to end all the crops. So there is no reason for anyone to sleep in the leavings of the Madman.

"When we return, Svein? We have men and women from three different clans. We are going to need to turn all of us into comrades. I don't want competition between the former Tuirseach's and the Dimun's. Nor the An Craite's versus everyone else. We are clan Baedd Du now and we all need to start acting and thinking like it."

"Yes Lord Jarl." Svein grinned before frowning in thought. I knew him well enough to guess that he was already thinking.

"Ygritte?"

"Lord Jarl?"

"When we come back here. I want you to start thinking about how we would defend this place. The reason you and Svein work together is because he is tactical, you are Strategic. I want to know where you would put Watch-Towers, look out points and how you would defend our territory. I also want alternative sites for keeps. Including the one we have so don't discount that out of hand. But look for others as well. You will need to work closely with Svein on that. Will that be a problem?"

"No Lord Jarl."

"Good. You are Hersir along with your Husband. That should give you the authority to do what you need to do."

"Thank you Lord Jarl."

"Lord Roary?"

"Yes Lord Jarl?" The big man was grinning.

"What Svein is doing for the warriors, you need to do for the ships. We have maybe half a dozen ships. We will get more and we will build more. But if we all have to work together, or sail together, we need to have some cohesion."

"Yes Sire."

"Also, scour my waters of pirates. No-one sails on my water unless they are coming to see me, trade in our port or fly the Queen's flag legitimately. Do what you have to to arrange that would you please?"

Roary grinned with relish. "It will be my distinct pleasure."

"Is that going to be a problem Roary. Some of those pirates might have been friends of yours?" Dreng joked.

"Nah, I sail for Jarl Helfdan now. If anything it will make it easier, I know where they hide. Svein, a quick word before you go..."

Helfdan nodded as though all was where it should be before marching back towards Rymer's ship.

He had been ashore for less than two hours.

We didn't know Roary very well but he came to see us off. Shaking my hand, Kerrass' hand and flirting with Ciri in a way that made her laugh before he went about his duties. Dreng was a bit more friendly. He shook my hand and hoped that there was no hard feelings. There wasn't. Before doing the same with Kerrass and hugging Ciri goodbye. One of the numerous people that had known her when she had spent a lot of time in Skellige.

We sailed along the coastline and gradually, it turned from unfamiliar coastline into a line of cliffs, gullies and beaches that had become familiar, even loving. I spent my time at the rail watching for the familiar landmarks that said that we were approaching Helfdan's home port. The rock formation that looked like an old man's face. The cove where pirates had once landed to smuggle their goods before being chased off some hundred years ago. The wrecked ship that had been blown onto the rocks by a storm which many claimed still contained treasure.

And then there it was.

The people cheered as we came into harbour. Helfdan did have to guide Rymer in then, although he still refused to take the tiller. Rymer's ship did bump against the rocks and the dock a couple of times but the entire thing had been designed to make it all difficult. We disembarked with a warning to Rymer's crew that we would be leaving on the morning. Ciri would be dropped off with the Imperial Flotilla while Kerrass and I would be making our way back north to Kaer Trolde to take ship back to Novigrad.

It was a homecoming for many of the people there and I was reminded that some members of the Wave-Serpent had not been home in the meantime. Including Svein and Helfdan themselves.

It was an emotional afternoon and evening with many a tear shed and many a hug shared. Once again, I was overjoyed to see that Ariadne was embraced with open arms by the villagers and she was instantly taken off to get she would later tell me was "women's wisdom". Especially regarding her coming wedding night.

Ariadne took it with good grace although she did look back a little helplessly as she was taken away.

I was greatly moved by Kerrass and my reception as well. People were still a little cold towards Ciri but it seemed more like a memory of past issues. It was the kind of thing where people would kind of realise that they were being unpleasant before shaking themselves and making an effort to embrace the woman.

We made our way towards the hall where people started to exchange news.

Sigurd was there with his new wife and he showed her off proudly. And rightly so. She was indeed a beautiful young lady. Other than her outfit and weapons, if I hadn't known that she wasn't human then I wouldn't have spotted it. Kerrass would have as his medallion shook when he went near her. But otherwise, she was certainly pale and her face was a slightly different shape.

She did tricks for our entertainment. Tricks with swordsmanship, the likes of which I have never seen.

She stood in the centre of twelve candles that were lit and her sword was sheathed. Then she moved, spinning on the spot and finished the pirhouette with her sword extended and the candles were extinguished.

I got the impression that she was rather getting tired of performing in this way but as it made Sigurd absurdly happy, then she was happy to continue. His pride in his wife, and their love for each other was plain for all to see. Her language was now, only slightly accented and I enjoyed a long talk with her which I absolutely intend to write up for the university at some point so watch this space.

It became clear that we were going to be feasted in Helfdan's own hall as he had promised. Wild Pork and Venison were promised and plenty of ale and mead were likewise promised. But before the festivities could get into full swing, Helfdan came and got Kerrass, Ciri and myself. Ygritte had been sent to fetch Ariadne and she met us outside.

"What's this about?" Ariadne asked and I shrugged in answer.

Helfdan led us through the village and out towards the trees and the outside wall where he led us up some stairs and onto the surrounding wall itself. There he led us along the wooden wall until we came to part of the cliff that had formed the headland out to sea that made the harbour itself more sheltered.

There were steps carved into the rock and we found more than one lookout posted near a small fire basket and a signal horn. A longbow was strung next to each guard post and signal arrows were there ready. They nodded to Helfdan as he passed and Helfdan acknowledged the gestures.

He led us to a place where we could see all of the village laid out below us. There were small fires everywhere and if you closed your eyes and squinted you could imagine the place as a constellation in the night sky. It reminded me of something but I have no idea what it reminded me of.

Then Helfdan began speaking.

"I have three tasks left to perform as the Captain of the Wave-Serpent." He told us. There is one that will happen in the morning when it is time to say farewell but we are not there yet. The next will happen in the hall when we mourn the ship and mourn the men that did not make it back. There will be more than one sore head in the morning."

We all smirked at the thought.

"But my first task is this." He stood with his back to the village so that it appeared that he was haloed in the light from the fires. "All of the sailors on the Wave-Serpent had homes here in this village. Whether they served for one voyage or have been with me since I first took command of her, this is our home and our safe harbour. Tonight, I will pass the lordship of this place over to Svein. He will care for it and follow my wishes.

"All three of you sailed and fought with my crew aboard the Wave-Serpent." He said before turning to Ariadne. "Lady, I invite you here as I felt that, marrying into my crew, you should be part of this choice." Then he went back to addressing us all. "Every one of my crew has a home here. So although your travels around the world might mean that you never come back to this place. Even if you live in palaces and make your way on the road. Then I want you all to know that there is a home for you here."

Ciri opened her mouth to object and I was not far behind her.

"I know what you are going to say." He told us with a slight smile. "Although you began as passengers, you fought, did chores, sailed, laughed and bled for us. Without you, we would not have made it home."

"Without us, you would never have been at risk." Kerrass told him, trying to be the emotionless Witcher and failing.

"Maybe, but there is always risk. It is not just a figure of speech either. Where would you like us to build your homes? Look out over the village, I suspect that the place will expand soon under Svein's care. It will become a place of fisher-folk rather than a home for raiders but still."

Kerrass nodded, allowing himself to be persuaded.

"I should refuse." Ciri said. "I should say no. We hated each other once Helfdan."

"We did," Helfdan admitted. "But you are of me now. That's what sailing together means."

She nodded. "Then make my house a small one. A simple place near the harbour. I have always loved the sounds of the sea and the cry of the gull to wake me."

Helfdan nodded.

"Oh and, umm, keep it secret. Tell folk that it is Zirael's house. Please? I may need somewhere to remind me of how ordinary I can be sometimes."

Helfdan nodded and smiled.

Ariadne and I had turned to each other. "What do you think?" I asked her.

"It's all a bit much." She admitted, also touched by the gesture. She was leaving tomorrow as well and was reluctant to let go of me. "We will be living in a large manor house, with servants and things. I would occasionally want for something simple. Even if it is just some privacy to..." She turned back to Helfdan. "Are there any caves nearby?" She asked.

"Many," Helfdan said simply.

"Then Freddie will enjoy the open air. Somewhere in the trees with the mountains in the background and water nearby while I can use a nearby cave for my work when we need privacy. Somewhere to retire to maybe."

Helfdan nodded.

Kerrass was staring out over the village. If he could have, I suspect that there would have been tears in his eyes. "Build me somewhere in the middle of things." He said in a strangled kind of voice. "I don't care where. But I have never found acceptance like I have among your people. So build me somewhere where I can be surrounded by people please. Or give me a dead man's hut, I don't mind. Somewhere where I can be part of a community."

Helfdan nodded and that was that.

We retraced our steps and returned to the hall where the feast was just getting started. I won't go into too much detail of that night. We sang songs, told stories, many of which I have already recounted in these pages. We gave each other gifts and swore eternal friendship. Many will be coming to my stag party and I look forward to seeing them again.

It was another one of those nights that I wish I could remember more of. I had been to more and more of this kind of thing really and I was beginning to look forward to just being able to stop at the end of the night. Where a meal didn't have to be a feast and a drink didn't come in a barrel. But I had a good time.

It was a wake really. The Wake for the Wave-Serpent and the wake of the men that had died there. There had been a more formal and prestigious thing up at Kaer Trolde of course as part of the other things that happened at the same time. But this? This was a whole other...

It was more intimate. The families of the dead men could attend as well as their children and the villagers that had known those men since they had first arrived or, in some few cases, since they had been born.

I am coming to prefer the idea of a Skelligan wake more and more to the point that I have left instructions that this is how I am to be mourned if it comes to that. I have written to Emma and talked to Ariadne and in future, there will be a party where my friends and loved ones will gather round a big fucking bonfire, eat too much, drink too much and tell stories. Then someone can quietly put my headstone in place in our little crypt. Who cares what happens to my body.

But that was what it was.

We did all of those things. We laughed, talked, sang, ate, drank, wept, sobbed and all round again. Ariadne was there. Ciri was there, everyone was there. It was the last night that we were all together. The real ending of our journey together and it was with tears in our eyes that we watched Helfdan stand up.

"This is no longer my hall." He declared in a manner that struck me as being rather formal. He walked down among us and took Svein by the hand. He held his other hand out for Ygritte who took the other hand and he led Svein up to the dais.

"Sit." Helfdan ordered and with tears in his eyes the much taller, the much wider and much stronger man allowed his legs to fold under him as he sat down in the chair at the top of the hall. Ygritte went to Svein's side, both of them with their eyes shining.

Helfdan stood back and Ciri handed him a drinking horn.

"Hail Svein." Helfdan roared. "Hard-hand. Warlord. Comrade... and friend."

"HAIL SVEIN," The hall roared, myself along with them, their feet stamping and hands crashing together.

"Hail Ygritte." Helfdan roared again. "Brightspear. Fair-hair. Battle-master. My shield and my protector... And my friend."

"HAIL YGRITTE." The crowd answered.

Helfdan turned back to the pair of them, someone had brought another chair for Ygritte to sit in which she did, looking stunned and uncomfortable.

"Hail." Helfdan said finally into the silence. "To the Lord and Lady of the Hidden Harbour. This is your hall now. So I say again. Hail."

"Hail." The crowd answered, a little more subdued as Helfdan downed the contents of the drinking horn before stepping back up to the dais and the two men embraced fiercely, Ygritte joining them making the hug a trio.

And the night ended.

"How does it feel?" I asked Svein later. "To be Lord of this place."

He laughed, his own emotions warring on his face and making him uncomfortable. "It's all a bit big to be honest, I keep coming back to when I first saw Helfdan. I remember thinking that he was just a scrawny kid, following a ship's Captain around. He gave me back my honour, my strength and my life. That scrawny kid found me a wife, found me a purpose and has now elevated me back to where I was as the Warlord of a major Clan and has given me land of my own to govern. I am elevated far beyond where I thought I would be able to go and I do not know..."

He shook his head, tugging his wife closer in an unconscious gesture before, visibly, a thought floated to the surface. "I tell you one thing though," he said. "I'll need a bigger chair."

His wife laughed with him just before the big man dissolved into tears for all that he had gained and all that he had lost.

I went to my guest rooms after that.

The following morning was more subdued. All of us now wanted to be on our way. There was no way that we could procrastinate any further, no way that we could draw out the departure or the farewells. No more excuses for feasts or delays. We rose early, ate a quick breakfast and went out to the harbour.

Rymer's men were preparing for departure, loading extra supplies onboard. There was an Imperial launch waiting to take Ciri out to the Flag-ship and her long journey South. Ariadne would soon be teleporting away to return to her own work. Kerrass and my horses were bridled nearby, laden with far too many supplies for the journey back to Kaer Trolde and the rest of the continent. I wanted to cry but couldn't.

Helfdan stood, looking up at the village and I could sense a farewell in his gaze.

Then he beckoned us all over.

"Lady, will you excuse us for just a moment?" He asked Ariadne and she stepped back. Sigurd was there with his wife and at his gesture, she too retired to stand a small distance away.

"We are all that remains of the crew of the Wave-Serpent." Helfdan told us as we stood in a circle. He was pacing around the interior of the circle. As opposed to his regular habit, he was looking each of us in the eye.

"From here many of us will go to help rebuild Holmstein and to form the basis of a new clan. Still others will remain here and continue to serve from this place. Ciri, the Swallow, is travelling South. A friend that I did not look for and did not believe that I would ever call friend. Scribbler and Witcher return to their Quest on the mainland.

"We all bear scars about the final voyage of the Wave-Serpent. Scars of the body that made it so that we will never sail again. Scars of the heart that mean that we will never want to sail again. Scars of the mind that mean that we will wake, shrieking in the midst of the night as we wake from a nightmare of being carried aloft in a harpy's claws or from being impaled by a Nilfgaardian's arrow.

"But we have shared something that no-one else will ever understand. We were there. We stood on that deck as we drove her onto the beach to fight monsters of myth. We stood in freezing cold to face our ancient enemy and at the last, we rowed with all of our strength, will and everything else that we could muster as the Wave-Serpent made her last desperate effort to keep her crew alive."

We nodded. I had thought I had shed all my tears the previous night but I was wrong, and I was not the only person weeping.

"There is a fellowship here." Helfdan said. "A bond, forged in the heat of battle and through a shared cup of warmth as we sailed on frozen waters. There were good days and there were bad days. Days when we would snap and shout at each other and other days where we were united in a friendship so pure that we may never feel it's like again.

"No-one else, other than the people in this circle, will remember the men that we lost if we do not keep that memory alive. No-one will sing songs about it or tell tales of those great and terrible deeds and sacrifices unless we make them remember that there was a ship called Wave-Serpent."

He took a moment to look at all of us again.

"I despise secret orders." He said. "Secret symbols that exclude others. That serve to divide us as much as they unite small groups. But at the same time, no matter what happens from here, I wanted us all to remember that ship and those men.

"So I had these made." He reached into a pouch at his side and produced a small bag... "Now I did not have enough for everyone yet. The Silversmith up in Kaer Trolde is working hard for me, but he just couldn't get them all done in time. So I told him to prioritise the three for those of us that are leaving these shores. The rest of us will receive these things in time but, as I'm sure the Scribbler will agree, having had similar experiences in the past, an artist cannot be rushed and we are always happy with the results afterwards."

I chuckled at that. Remembering a dwarf having me thrown out of his shop because I kept bothering him about an engagement ring. I remember my own joy when I saw it in all it's splendour and I remembered the, rather extreme, reaction of Ariadne when she saw it for the first time. I glanced over to where she waited for me and saw that same ring glittering on her finger.

"But here are three badges." Helfdan held them out and everyone craned to look. He showed them to the Skelligans first as they would have a delay before receiving theirs, before he came to Kerrass, Ciri and myself.

The badges were small profile carvings of the old figurehead of the Wave-Serpent. That odd, slightly feminine looking snake monster. But the silversmith had contrived that the familiar snarl looked less angry somehow. Instead of a snarl of anger, it seemed a cry of defiance and the carving made the snake-creatured seem more beautiful. They were each different too, the one from the other. Most obviously in the colour of the eyes which were made from tiny jewels. Mine were red while Kerrass' were blue. I think Ciri's were black but I couldn't say for certain.

"I did not want to presume how you would want to wear them." Helfdan told us. "I intend to wear mine as a pendant but I thought, Ciri, maybe a pin in a collar. Or a cloak pin for the Witcher or something. I do not know."

"Thank you Helfdan." Ciri threw her arms round him. "And I will see you soon. Sooner than you might think or want too."

Helfdan smiled slightly. He was no longer looking in her eyes. "I will look forward to it." He told her.

She grinned slyly. "Liar."

We all laughed.

Kerrass was still staring at his little carving, his mouth hanging open in astonishment. "I will treasure this." He told Helfdan without looking up. "I will treasure you all."

Helfdan nodded his acceptance of this.

I just thanked him. I tried to come up with something witty or profound to say but I realised that I had nothing to offer. We shook hands.

Then there was one last round of embracing of those men sailing off before there was no-one left and men were moving towards the ship.

"Oh and Scribbler?" Helfdan wasn't done. "I have considered who I should give the axe to and..." He thrust it back into my astonished hands. "I have decided that you should be the one to carry it for me. Learn to use it in my name and one day, I may ask for it back." He turned back to his ship before I could protest.

"Stitched." was Ciri's verdict.

"I keep doing that to myself." I moaned as I watched the men that I love, climbing aboard a ship and preparing to sail off.

Kerrass said nothing. Still gazing down at the smallish silver badge that Helfdan had given him.

Ariadne joined us and the four of us watched Rymer's ship, I can't remember the name of her now, sailing off into the morning light. The other survivors waved from the rail until they went round the head land and out of sight.

Ariadne left next, hugging Kerrass, Ciri and then myself hard, telling the Empress that they would see each other soon before reminding Kerrass and I that she would see us at Winter. She walked away quickly, into the swirling whirlpool of a transport gate.

"Well, this is it." Ciri told us both. "Thank you, both of you. I owe you more than I can say." She turned away and looked at the still spreading wake of the departed ship. "I do believe that the pair of you saved my life and reminded me of what's important."

She turned back and threw her arms round both of us. "I will never forget that."

She squeezed us both, hard, before turning and moving towards the Imperial Launch. We stood and watched as she was rowed out to the waiting ships until we could no longer tell which one she was.

I took a moment, breathing in the clean air of Skellige.

"Well Kerrass?" I said. " I vote we head north to Kaer Trolde. We're back to summer now so we can spend the night out of doors and eat some of the simple food that they've given us. Then we do our best to get passage back to the continent without letting anyone know that we're there. I want to get on. I am so done with this place."

Kerrass said nothing. Back to looking down at the small silver symbol.

"Kerrass?" I tried again.

But he wouldn't take his eyes off it.

"What do I do with it?" His voice cracked at the end of the question.

"I don't know my friend." I told him gently. "I'm sure it will come to you."

He nodded, closing his fist around the symbol of his acceptance and we walked towards the horses.

He didn't let go of that symbol for a long time.

(A/N: That's the end of the Skelligan chapter of the travels of Freddie and Kerrass. Far longer than I intended so thank you for sticking with it. We move back to the continent next to answer some questions that people have been looking forward to.

I am pleased that Helfdan and his crew have caught on with so many people though. I am enormously fond of them and will miss them terribly moving forward.

As always, thankyou for reading.)