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

126. Chapter 126

(Warning: Contains evidence of trauma. Contains person dealing with Trauma related flashbacks. Also references some institutional misoginy and homophobia. The people responsible for this are roundly mocked for being foolish. Also some historical sexual abuse mentioned briefly with no detail given.)

It's one of those truths that everyone knows, but everyone seems to forget, that a winter sun can be particularly bright. Bright enough that I had to shield my eyes as I emerged into the sunlight from Beauclair palace to walk down to the teleport area.

It was also, according to technical terms, what is known as Fucking Freezing.

Tomorrow was the day of the finals for the inaugaral tournament of the Knights of Saint Francesca, today being a day of "respite" so that the surviving competitors could have a rest, recover a bit and otherwise ensure that they were still capable of actually competing in the joust in the morning. But I did not envy them.

Normally, jousting is a summer occupation, late spring and early autumn where the ground can be expected to be tolerably soft and cushion a knight that is crashing down to the turf with all of that weight around him.

But, unless things were going to change drastically, the ground would be as hard as iron when someone would find themselves sailing over the back of their horse's tail. And judging by the way that Sir Guillaume was wielding his lance at the moment, more than one person was going to be unhorsed on the morrow.

I had wondered to Command Syanna as to whether there was a danger that the knights could end up wiping themselves out before they had the chance to do any protecting of the people that they had been created to protect. But she laughed and told me that the armour that they had ordered from the craftsmen of Toussaint was very good and that I had little need to worry.

I took her at her word.

So I strode down to the transport gate in the sickeningly bright sunshine and the equally as freezing cold air with my escorts beside me. A huge silent man who had not been competing due to his lack of comfort on a horse and a younger, slighter woman who told me that her name was Daphne. She chattered away but was deft enough in her conversation to ensure that there was little to no chance that I would be able to guess as to her identity, or indeed, be able to tell anything about her at all.

So I strode through palace grounds, giving a little nod and a wave to those people that I knew which, by now, was a good number of people. More than one of whom tried to stop me to talk to me about the days business, or the party that I had attended the previous evening, or the one before that. Or the plans for the party that I was attending that night or what I thought of this, that or the other thing. You can say what you like about Toussaint, but the people there are friendly enough to make going anywhere a bit of a chore. You are always stopping to talk to people.

This time though, I had a ready made excuse for my alacrity of movement and my inability to stop to gossip. Meaning that I could quickly make my excuses and get past all of the well-wishers and head on my way.

I was a little nervous about what was about to happen, but if I was truly honest with myself, I would have to admit that I was happy. And overall, I was enjoying my time in Toussaint. There was a small niggling worry in the back of my head that suggested that I might have drunk the same poison that everyone drinks here. Thus suggesting that I had fallen under the spell of Toussaint, a spell that I would not be able to exorcise for some time yet, if ever at all. A spell that would leave me thinking that there was no finer wine than the wine that they served in Toussaint. No finer food than as covers the tables of Toussaint. No more beautiful lady, no more handsome a man and no more beautiful a land as Toussaint itself.

Increasingly though, that small voice had become drowned out by all the rest of the things. The food and the wine really were that good. The mountains really were that beautiful and as for the rest...? Well...

After I had left Toussaint the last time, a number of people had suggested that I should go back one day. That I should go back and allow that place and those people to apologise, for the harm that was done to me. So that I could see Toussaint for the glorious place that it was and enjoy everything that it had to offer. And I had done that. I had allowed that to happen. I had fought it at first, I will admit that. I had fought it at first, really hard in fact. I had laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, the wilful self-delusion that seems to come with having been born here, as well as the otherwise interesting symptoms of that happy madness which afflicts all the people of Toussaint.

But Toussaint, as it tends to, sneaks in through the backdoor of your heart. I found myself wondering where I would build myself a little cottage for Ariadne and I to escape to should we ever feel the need. This despite the rooms that I could keep in Oxenfurt should we need a break to the city, the manor at Angral, the guest quarters at Castle Coulthard that I could always rely on, regardless of Sam or Emma's stewardship of that place. The cabin that was being built for me in Skellige where I would be spending some time after I got married as well. But now I found myself looking around Toussaint as well, looking for an area where I could build a little house. With a string of sausages and garlic near the door.

It was ludicrous of course. But the desire for it was there.

For me, I realised that it was happening when Ariadne and I went for an evening walk in the gardens and we found ourselves moving towards "our" bench. We accidentally disturbed a young couple that were making love on it with a woolen cloak used to protect themselves from the cold stone. It must have been freezing cold and I wondered how they managed to keep the passion going, before the obvious truth occurred to me. Or rather, the truths involved. The first truth being that the pair of them were young and in love. The second truth was that this was Toussaint. The romance of it carried the pair of them throught he worst of the cold and it wasn't as though they had completely undressed.

The couple were so obsessed with each other that they did not notice our approach, so we hid behind a nearby bush and giggled together like children. I remember sighing happily and looking down at the gleeful face of the woman that I love as she looked up at me with the moonlight shining on her face.

"What?" She asked as she sensed my change of mood.

"I love you." I told her. She always seems to glow a little whenever I tell her that and she tugged me towards her for a kiss that I was all too willing to give her. Then the boy in the couple gave a particularly loud moan which did not, not even for a moment, interrupt the steady rhythm that the couple had established. We giggled quietly and moved off before, in Ariadne's words. "We got carried away by the mood of the moment.

I looked over towards the place as I walked through the gardens to get where I needed to go. I am told that there is some poor gardner, who's job it is to clean the place when people have been getting overly amorous there. I can't imagine the horrors that this poor person may or may not have seen.

But that was not the purpose of my errand today. My errand waited for me in the folly that housed the area that people used to get in and out of Toussaint by magical means.

Lady Vigo was there waiting for me, wrapped in a cloak against the cold. Normally she has her apprentice there in order to stabalise the gate in case anyone needed to come through suddenly and without warning. But in this case, the apprentice had gone home to spend the winter with family and as such, Lady Vigo was by herself.

There is literally a bench nearby for people to sit and wait when they are expecting someone to come through. I greeted Lady Vigo with some gossip and we talked for a little while. Lady Vigo is an interesting lady. Very private but with a wicked sense of humour about her. She presents a kind of front towards everyone which is ultra formal and reserved. But every so often, that front moves aside and you can see the wicked humour and girlishness underneath. She is some kind of distant relation to the Ducal family and has been known to gleefully enjoy the wine pressing, setting aside her skirts and dresses to leap into the vats and jump up and down on all of the grapes to extract the juice.

However, underneath the humour and reserve, I think that there is a well of sadness there. She spent a lot of time being imprisoned by Nilfgaard and spending her time in the Emperor's dungeons. Always with the spectre of summary execution hanging over her at all times but never quite being followed through on. She was court mage to the Emperor before Lady Yennefer was, but her membership of the Lodge of Sorceresses was declared treason and she was stripped of her rank. Only to be replaced by Yennefer her long term rival and friend.

The rivalry between the two women stems from Lady Vigo being another Sorceress that was attracted to Lord Geralt. That and the two women being on opposite sides of the battlefield at Sodden. Indeed, according to Lady Yennefer, she was blinded at that battle by a magical effort of Lady Vigo. The two set aside their differences afterwards though over an effort to rescue Ciri. But then Yennefer took Lady Vigo's position in the ear of the Emperor to the point where she was able to arrange the pardon and release of Lady Vigo and secure the future of the Lodge of Sorceresses in the Empire.

Which left Lady Vigo with nothing much to do. So she had gone home to Toussaint and spent her time there, enjoying the sun and the wine while she waited for inspiration to strike. Safe in the comfort of the knowledge that she is a Sorceress and she has time.

I greeted her as I approached.

"They're late." She said.

"Who are?"

"The Kalayn party."

"They would be." I told her.

"Something I should know about Lord Frederick?" She wondered with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Is your family going to taint these proceedings even further with your shenanigans?"

"Taint?" I wondered with a smile, sensing that I was being mocked.

She waved my question off.

"Nah." I told her. "People around Sam might want us all to wait and mess us around. But it's far more likely that he's forgotten something, or is just unorganised."

"Not a good quality in a lord." She observed.

I laughed. "Sam is a good man and when it comes to his duties, he is meticulous in his time keeping. A leftover from his time in the military But when it's anything else, family, romantic or other kinds of business. Then he lets that kind of attitude go for some reason that we have never been able to tell. Where he was always on time or early for training, he would always be late for dinner and I genuinely believe him whenever he says that he forgot."

She sniffed and turned back to her book. She had a small desk nearby and was making notes on a small piece of parchment. "I trust you are taking your medicine properly." She commented in dire tones. "You are still recovering after all."

I took out the small flask of tonic that Sir Walther had given me and sloshed it around in front of her face. A gesture that she ignored.

I sat on the nearby bench and leant my head back. From previous experience it could be anything from a few minutes to several hours before Sam would be ready for anything. That was fine though, it meant that I could just spend some time out of doors and breathing in and out and enjoying some time to myself rather than being surrounded by people. Well meaining people to be sure. But sometimes you just want to let everything go.

It had been several weeks since that night of the welcoming banquet and a lot had happened, while at the same time, not very much had happened at all.

I met the lady that Ariadne had chosen to be her surrogate in my bed chamber for those parts of my life when Ariadne herslef could not be present for proprieties sake. She was to comfort me in the evening, or in the night or at any other moment where I might need closeness or intimacy. I do not understand the logic of why such a thing was needed. It was something to do with keeping me grounded and present. To be there to remind me where I was and, apparently more importantly, to remind me "when" I was. She was there to hold me through the nightmares and, most embarrassingly, stroke my head as I fell asleep.

As Sir Walther had said, normally, this action would be performed by a person intimate to the patient. A girlfriend, wife or lover. But as I did not have any of these. Instead, I had a fiancee and we were not yet comfortable with the two of us sharing a bed. Not yet at least.

I'm not going to go over the reasons for that again. So do not ask. I swear that I get more letters on this subject than I do about anything else combined and it's both frustrating and insulting so stop it. This is our choice and we have made it so stop badgering me, and definitely stop badgering Ariadne about it. Otherwise our reactions might start to become a little more... extreme.

Apparently, the same function can be performed by a family pet such as a dog. But that would not really suit my lifestyle and as a result, it had been decided, by Ariadne not me, that I should have some kind of temporary mistress. Someone who could take her place in my bed with Ariadne's consent, knowledge and, it would seem, her enjoyment as well.

It was not as scandelous as you might think. When the arrangement had first been discussed, I had been mortified by the prospect but when it was put in these words instead, I was slightly put at my ease. The practice of "official mistresshood" is something that has been around for a while. This is where a man, pretty much in my position, either separate from his wife, or fallen out of favour with his wife, might take a lover and declare her his "formal mistress."

The lady in question is often given similar rights and privilidges as a wife, but without a lot of the legal protections. She will often have her own servants and households and it happens with the consent of the wives of the gentlemen a surprising amount. It is risky for the Mistress however and they do need to be careful. They can often find themselves turfed out should the marriage be repaired, or the man die. So it is often wise to ensure that they are properly looked after when the affair comes to an end

But in this case, the arrangement was formalised, paid for and set up in such a way that it would last until I left Toussaint. A time that was still quite distant.

Her name was Ann. Ariadne, specifically, chose her having gone to the finest bordello in Beauclair, she had interviewed a number of candidates, much to the Madame's amusement and the consternation of the ladies of the place, before choosing Ann herself. I have no idea as to what Ariadne's criteria were in doing the selection, nor did I ever ask.

There was some concern on Ann's part that she would be acting as some kind of nursemaid and indeed she told us both that when I first met her.

It was the night of the banquet when Ariadne brought me to her. She had been put in my room in a heavy cloak before Ariadne came to fetch me.

There was some awkwardness at first, but Ann quickly took charge so that the three of us say down at a table. One of the servants brought some light refreshments of the mulled wine, cheese and crackers variety.

"Not the most unusual contract that I have ever been hired for." Was Ann's opening gambit. "But not far off." She smiled with just a hint of suggestion that she was laughing at the entire situation.

Saying that she was attractive was a little reundant. She had long blonde hair that she had tied up into a bun at that time, as well as startling green eyes. Heart shaped face with a pointed nose and a wicked twist to her mouth that made the mind move towards mischief.

"So," She told me as a matter of business. "I have spent some time talking to the Lady Ariadne here and I want to say to you, the same things that I said to her. The first is that I am not a nursemaid. I will not wipe your arse nor hold your dick while you piss. I will not clean your vomit from the floor or the bed clothes and should you vomit on me then I am gone. The instant you drool on me in anything other than a sexual manner, is the moment that I pick myself up, demand full payment and leave. The Lady has reassured me that this was not the case, but I have been caught out by that kind of thing before."

"I understand." Ariadne said.

"I am also not here to act as your servant." She told me. "I am here to act as a, what we in the trade call, a Lover's experience. It is a longer contract that I would normally take up to be sure and I will admit that the client is older, younger, more confident seeming and better looking than the kind of gentleman that goes for this kind of thing. It is all but unique that I should be hired by the client's fiancess before a wedding however so I am forced to ask the following question?" She grinned. "Are you guys shitting me? Am I being set up for something here?"

"Does that happen often?" I wondered.

"More times than you would care to think. Where I get set up by one party to be the mistress of another, only for the first to "find us" and be outraged so that a betrothal contract can be broken."

"Huh." I said, rather stupidly.

"How sick are you?" She asked.

"Not very." I responded, rather too quickly.

"Really quite sick." Ariadne said at the same time. "My fiance, as I said earlier today, has seen some horrible things and been through some extreme things. At the time, he deferred recovery from his injuries and put off dealing with what he saw on a personal level. Now he is paying for that delay."

She nodded. "I understand." She said. Anne turned to me. "Lady Ariadne already knows this story but I shall tell you as well. My brother was in a cave-in once. He worked at a vinyard off to the North when the ground gave way beneath his feet due to tunnelling Kikkimores. He was trapped there for some time, not daring to move in case those movements attracted the monsters. He was found, several days later by Lord Geralt who was hired by the Vinyard overseer who was looking at the matter. He was afraid of the dark for some time and, as far as I know, he still won't go into a vinyard and his wife claims that he cannot sleep without a candle on in the room."

I nodded my acceptance of this. Anne gazed at me for a long time before nodding her head. "I will accept this contract I think although I still have a number of questions."

"Please."

"Should I grow pregnant, which is a risk from a contract of this length, what is to become of me and the child?"

"Herbal precautions not withstanding?" Ariadne asked before I could open my mouth.

"Precautions not withstanding." Anne confirmed. "Although the potions are good, there is no such thing as a perfect preventative. And I would prefer not to use them where possible as the side effects of using such matters can be deadly. Normally, I can be careful about timing. My calander is booked out in red ink and I am still of an age where I am reliably timed. I make enough money that I can afford to be cautious as well. But that might not be the case here."

"I see." Ariadne said, "So what you're asking of the Vampire and the Nobleman, is what would happen if you fall pregnant and choose to keep the baby."

"I am."

"Nothing at all." Ariadne responded. "If you are hunting for upkeep of yourself or the child or view my love as a way to get rich quick, then you should know that blackmail is not an option here. There is no-one to blackmail"

Anne nodded at this. "I had accepted that. That is not what I asking."

"Then if you are just looking for children, then you have nothing to fear. If you do grow pregnant and need somewhere to go then present yourself to our home in Angral and a place will be found for you and the child, regardless of whether the child is Freddie's or not."

Anne nodded.

"Do I not get a say in the matter?" I wondered.

"Not really." Ariadne said. "If the child is yours then we can arrange something if both you and Anne here agree. Matters of legitimacy would come later as I would rather it be my children that would end up being our heirs. But I rather think that that is not what Anne is asking here," She turned back to Anne. "Is it?"

"No."

Dawning realisation occurred and I sighed. "You're checking on the Elder Vampire's response to the possibility that we might sleep together. Damn me but I really should have caught that."

"You should." Ariadne replied. "But you're sick. Be gentle with yourself."

Anne shifted a little uncomfortably. "The thought had occurred." She admitted. "Recent Tousssaint history is defined by two events. The dissappearance of the saint and the night of the Long Fangs. Where a heart-broken Elder Vampire laid waste to the countryside."

"It is not an unreasonable fear." Ariadne said calmly. "But I am not Detlaff. Freddie has made no false promises to me. He has never hurt me intentionally and when he has hurt me his remorse has been instantaneous and unreserved. This entire situation is going to be strange for both of us, there is no getting round that. But I love him, he needs help, I cannot give him that help at the moment for reasons that are beyond my control. So I need you to give him that help for me.

"If you can save this man, or help him even a little bit. Or even if you just try without actually achieving anything, then you should know that you will have my undying gratitude and endless affection. If it becomes more uncomfortable than either of us can bear, then we will have that discussion as and when it comes up."

Anne nodded her acceptance of this.

"So there's no roleplaying here. No, me needing to pretend to be a damsel in distress, or a clandestine affair that must be kept from a jealous wife?"

"No," Ariadne and I both said.

"Indeed," Ariadne went on. "I would like it if the two of us can be friends. I would like to discuss how he's doing with you and discuss other things that can help towards his recovery." Then she smiled wickedly. "As well as some other tips that you might be able to give."

Anne laughed. "My best tip in the regard is that it's better for the two of you to explore that for yourselves. What works for me might not work for you. He loves you."

"He will love you too." Ariadne told the astonished courtesan. "Just not in the same way. I suspect that you will have known more skilled lovers, but none so genuine."

"I will make my own opinion on that." Anne said.

"You ladies understand that I am sitting over here right?" I wondered.

They both stared at me with withering scorn, in almost exactly the same way. Such that it was comical. Certainly enough that I laughed. Which got me an even harsher glare.

Still from both of them.

"Then my only other rule when it comes to dealing with married couples or couples in a loving relationship is..."

"Hang on?" I asked, my curiosity was getting insatiable. At some point I might even need to wonder if I have a real problem. "Do you get many couples wanting, or needing your services?"

"More than you would think?" She answered promptly in a way that left me thinking that it was a common question, "But not as many that would stop it from being a taboo. But as I say, I refuse to have someone watching me when things are getting more... intimate. I understand that there is an element of recovery here and you, milady, want to be involved as much as possible. But I don't want to feel as though I am being graded on my performance, either athletically or in regards to the emotional connection."

"I understand."

Anne gazed at Ariadne flatly for a while before Ariadne chuckled at herself and rose to her feet. "I should have seen that for the cue that it was. The two of you should know that there are no engagements tomorrow until the afternoon where we are invited to a wine tasting at Corvo Bianco before we come back here for a slightly more subdued feast in the evening. I think it would be beneficial for Lord Frederick to attend. I will send someone with an hours warning."

Anne nodded as Ariadne rose to her feet, kissed me on the forehead, smiled at Anne and left.

"I am still here." She told me through the link as she closed the door behind her. "I will never leave you."

I was grateful for the reassurance as Anne poured us both a drink. "So," She began with a small smile. "Just how awkward is this for you?"

It turned out to not be that awkward after all. Anne treated it all like it was some kind of... I don't know. It was like we were old friends within moments. There was affection there, and intimacy certainly, but there was little to no romance involved. It was affection, passion and care without the romance. There was certainly none of the things that you occasionally get with some of the bordellos where the lady in question pretends to be in love with you.

And yes. All women that work in these kinds of establishments are ladies. I have written before that neither I, nor anyone in my presence will ever disrespect anyone, male or female, that makes their living in the sex trade. However, nothing will save you from my ire more assuredly than if you seek to take advantage of these, often, very fine people.

There was titilation, there was passion and arousal. But nothing that...

The closest I can think of, is a lady that I once knew at University. As I have said, I lost my virginity with undue haste by having an awkward encounter at an upper market brothel in Oxenfurt with a lady that was very kind to me. But afterwards, I was astonished that nothing had changed. I was no more confident in myself or with my social connections, certainly no more confident with women. So, eventually, I decided that the barrier between myself and romance was something of my own making.

A few months into this, I met a girl and the two of us became close for a while before she went off with someone else. But she was someone who I was good friends with for a while. We would drink together, have fun together, go and see shows and things together. And occasionally, we would just sleep together.

That was the closest thing that I can think of to how Anne behaved. Friends who slept together. But there was more care to it. It felt closer and more intimate.

I suppose that there's only so many times that you can spend the night in the same bed, or cry yourself to sleep in someone's arms before intimacy creeps into things.

I should also say that it was not as salacious as you might think. My sex drive was all but non-existent at the beginning of my time with Anne. I could certainly appreciate the beautiful woman who's arms that I was in, but my desire to act on that just didn't seem to come up. At one point she pointed out that the only time she could get anything moving in a sexual way was if she pounced on me in the early hours of the morning. In that strange land before I had entirely woken up and she could arouse my body before my brain got in the way.

To my mind, I was mostly too exhausted to act on the fact that I had an undeniably beautiful woman in my bed. There was undeniably the factor that Ariadne was in the next room which contributed to this. But also the sheer effort of keeping myself going through the day. The effort of putting a brave face on things while people kept telling me how awful it must have been to lose my sister. It would have been all too easy to lose myself into yet another spiral of self-recrimination, depression and self hatred at the fact that I hadn't found Francesca.

Even when other people weren't talking to me about all of these things it was so easy to look around Toussaint and see something that reminded me of my sister sharply. The corner of the palace where Francesca jumped out at me and hugged me to congratulate me on my engagement. The room where she had stood behind the Empress as my embarassment was made clear. The balcony where Francesca had hosted the family, the Empress, several Witchers and my new fiancee to a dinner.

There was so much memory made manifest in Beauclair, town and palace, that made it difficult to keep these things at bay. But I couldn't allow myself the peace of tears or depression. I had to pick myself up and keep going. Dancing with the people at the parties, enjoying the tournaments and paying attention to the tours and things that we went to. But it was exhausting doing that. It's exhausting to attend all of these social events anyway, but it is even more exhausting to maintain a happy face on top of that as well.

The others would help with that. Kerrass was still acting as my ever present nursemaid and he would often just appear at my elbow with a drink, a joke or a comment. Or Ariadne would appear, linking her arm through mind so that I could take a break from the conversation, and remember her to whoever it was that I was talking to. Then she would take up the thread of the conversation from there while I collected what remained of my self control.

That's not to say that what was happening socially was unpleasant. Far from it in fact. It was all lovely, the food, the wine, the song, the dancing and other artistic displays. I loved it all. But that can be just as tiring as the stuff that is unpleasant or that depresses you itself.

So when we got back from wherever it was that we were going that day, or that night, then the family would sit for a while with Kerrass, Laurelen and Ariadne and we would spend a bit of time talking about the strategy that was involved in what would come next. Anne would often leave during these meetings and go off to prepare for my return to my chambers. When it was clear that I could no longer keep the tears at bay, or I was beginning to shake with whatever emotion that I had repressed over the course of the day then Ariadne, or Kerrass, would order me to bed where Anne would have a hot bath ready for me. She would bathe me and then we would go to bed for the night or occasionally a nap if this was happening in the middle of the day.

For her part, Anne, claimed that she had had considerably less pleasant times with her work. She would spend her days in her rooms, other than those times where she had to go into town on an errand or another. Most often when the rest of us were busy. Ariadne would always escort me to official functions so Anne was generally only with us when we were staying at some place other than at the palace, or when the family was all together. My family did me very proud with the way that they treated her. Ariadne spent a lot of time getting to know her and the two would often sit in the corner of the room and gossip a little. Ariadne was fascinated with some of the things that Anne told her about the way her life worked, what she did and how she behaved.

Emma was a little bit put off by her. Her way of dealing with this was to make Anne a friend and went out of her way to make the other woman comfortable in everyone's presence. Laurelen commented that this is how Emma deals with things that make her uncomfortable now, ever since the situation with the Elves. Why was Emma put off by her? I have no idea. Something to do with her function or her overall profession perhaps. I do find it a little odd that my sister, who pushes more progressive sexual politics since openly loving a woman, can sometimes be a bit of a prude.

Laurelen didn't give a damn. Neither did Mark which I was delighted by. He talked to Anne when she was sitting by herself or if he himself wanted some conversation. He treated her like any other person but with the slight edge that suggested that this was how he treated other professional people in his life. He was friendly without being a friend. Charming without charming her.

She and Kerrass barely interacted, although I think that this was more on Anne's part than on Kerrass' part. He claims to have been oblivious to it although, in private, Ariadne suggested that maybe Anne had a crush on him, or that Kerrass reminded Anne of someone that she had a crush on or was unhappily in love with. I didn't pursue it.

But as I say, the time since we had arrived in Toussaint had not been unpleasant. Far from it.

That first day after we had been welcomed at the official banquet was the beginning of the Tournament of Saint Francesca. We were reassured that if we wanted to attend, that we would be very welcome, but that this was not to be entirely expected. There was a certain amount of telling people that we were the guests of honour and that part of what these knights were competing for was the honour of our attentions. We would go and see them for the finals but we were encouraged to leave it for a few days before we actually took our spaces on the stands.

It also needs to be said that it was not only the knights of Saint Francesca that were competing. There were also many other knights that were there from around Toussaint and more than a few from outside as well. Including a number of the officers of the fourth and more than one representative of the Northern Kingdoms. The more socially acceptable parts of the transport gates meant that people were more comfortable with coming south. There was still a bit of a problem that it was a winter tournament which meant that not everyone who wanted to compete could come, but there was certainly plenty of people that wore their full pagentry. Not just the anonymous and faceless plates of the knights of Saint Francesca.

There was an event that was only for those knights of Saint Francesca though which was about who would hold the position of champion of the Saint. My understanding was that this person would then be a faceless, anonymous knight who would ride in defence of the honour of any woman that needed a champion but otherwise wouldn't be able to be represented. All that the lady had to do was to make herself known to a knight of Saint Francesca and explain her case and who she was up against and explain why she could not otherwise be represented by someone else.

And then this nameless knight would ride, or fight, in her stead. Knight Commander Syanna had insisted that this be a vital part of knighthood and that although knights were, currently, falling over themselves in order to represent those less fortunate women than themselves, she suggested that this was because, at the moment, this was fashionable. She predicted a time where knights and warriors would become less inclined to help those who would not or could not offer a reward.

She also wanted to make sure that Ladies could not take advantage of this situation who could otherwise call on their husbands or brothers or something. People who were abusing the privilidge to bully others.

I could think of several ways that this system could still be abused and said so. She agreed, but that there was no perfect solution and that these things would be worked on over time. But for the right here and right now, she would rather a situation where someone who couldn't protect themselves, could be protected over denying everyone.

I did agree with that.

So we attended the opening ceremony which is, for those people that have never been to one of these in the past, essentially a glorified parade and series of spectacles. This is where knights perform tricks, or get their horses to dance or otherwise stand and rear proudly on command. It's where they perform weapons demonstrations and the like. As I say, in thory this is to ensure that the knights get to show off a little bit but in reality, it's much more of an intimidation specatacle. So that people can show off and frighten people into giving up before everything has begun.

We had a commentary from Commander Syanna who joined us in the box. Sir Guillaume was now taking part in the tournament and disagreed with the entire process and so, would only be part of the parade of the new knightly order. She approved of his attitude and pointed out that none of the knights under her command were taking part in "such foolishness."

"Why is it foolish?" Mark wanted to know.

"Because they are all but showing their competitors what they are capable of." Kerrass told him.

"It's true," Syanna agreed.

"Why?"

"Well, first of all, a tournament is supposed to be about skill, not head games. It's the most skilled opponent that is supposed to come out on top, not the cleverest. That is what chess or card tournaments are for. But second of all, if you show how good you are with the sword, you are also giving people time to analyse your form and look for weaknesses. For example, you see that knight over there with the three towers on his shield?"

"I see him." Mark replied.

"You see that as he moves, the twirl on the right, upper quarter is getting quicker and less controlled?"

"I will take your word for it." Mark responded. "It looks very skilled to me."

"I can see it." Kerrass said.

So could I, but I didn't want to tell Mark that. I was gritting my teeth at all the noise and things that was going around and crashing in my ears. I was holding onto the arms of my chair with a white knuckle grip to remind myself that I was here and not in the cavern of the First-born with all that noise and shouting. Ariadne rested her hand on top of one of mine and squeezed gently, letting me know that she was there.

"Well that quickness tells me, and any swordsman watching, that he injured his shoulder recently and has not properly recovered. Which leaves him weak and open for reprisal. My guess is that he will be eliminated in the first, or at most, second round."

"I see." Mark responded. "There is more to this than is at first apparent."

The parade happened and took a long time as the competitors formed up and marched past us, lances or swords raised in salute from the back of horses or on foot. The trumpets played and the crowd roared as particularly famous knights rode past this way and that way. It was impossible to not feel something as all of that happened. It was impossible not to feel a stirring of something primal in the depths of your soul as the banners and penants snapped in the wind, the thundering of hooves and the roars of the crowd.

Occasionally, I have spoken about those moments in my travels that I have come to believe deserve to be immortalised in oils, ink or however people want to do it. It has even been suggested that I should commission an artist to do precisely that and to paint these images. The Witcher on the edge of the town, waiting to see if he was going to be hired or turned away. The Vampire embracing the Witcher, the death of the Wave-Serpent and the Man playing chess with a Unicorn. There are numerous examples of these. I probably won't do any of these things even though the prospect is attractive. But that's more because a painting cannot possibly conjure the image, or properly invoke the memory of what actually happened to my satisfaction. The colours never seem quite as vibrant, the depth of the image is always lacking.

Because of course it is. It's painted on canvas after all.

And being in the Duchess' box during the opening ceremony of a Tournament of Toussaint. The inaugaral winter tournament of the knights of Saint Francesca. It was impossible to not be moved by what we saw that day.

In the Duchess' central position, the throne had been replaced by a life size portrait of Francesca, sitting on a simple chair like a Queen so that she could watch as all of these knights would come and do her homage.

All of the knights cried out oaths that they would win this tournament, or win their own event so that they could dedicate that prize to this lady or that lady in the crowd.

Some of it was funny, some of it was sweet and some of it was a little offensive. More than one person declared Ariadne to be the most beautiful woman in the gathering, declaring that she needed a real man rather than a weakling that could not compete. It was always said with a touch of humour about the phrase and the more flowery language so that I couldn't really take offense to any of it. But the sentiment was real enough. Syanna told me not to worry about it and that she had marked those men who had made those jokes so that they could be taken to task later.

They rode past in ones and twos, sometimes making their horses rear with a simple trick or, at worst, by raking their spurs down their horses sides. I might not know much about horses but I know enough to get angry about that kind of thing. If you want a horse to do something regularly and on command, then train it. Do not try and show your masculinity by torturing an animal.

Another focus of the knights amourousness was Emma, who regularly got told that she was a beautiful woman and that all she needed was a real man. Emma said nothing and ignored those, mostly young, knights who declared this. I had heard that she occasionaly struggles with this as people persist in trying to get her to marry them, determined to get their hands on the family's company. Refusing to believe that Emma simply has no need of, or interest in, the marriage in question.

She stared stonily ahead and ignored the matter when it came up. But I rather think that there was more than one man there that would regret their hasty words that day.

Other knights would make their marks, or call out to wives or fiancee's in the crowd but by far the most of the calls and compliments fell at the base of the painting of Francesca.

The knights that were the officers of the 4th that had chosen to compete, wore their own standards as well as the standard of the 4th and they saluted the Duchess to a man, other than Colonel Duberton himself who saluted the Duchess but threw a red rose towards his wife.

Everything at this kind of tournament has symbolism. Everything makes a statement. It's almost exactly like a courtroom in that regard and if you've never been to a tournament and want to understand the intricacies of what is going on, then I suggest going with someone who can translate for you.

The knights ride, or walk out before the Ducal box and the audience. They wear their best and most formal armour which is almost never anything to do with what they will actually be wearing during their bouts. It is designed to show off rather than be protective. I saw a knight parade out in a doublet and hose once because it was a hot day and he didn't want to waste time waiting before the ball that evening.

But they come out in no particular order. The knights can go out first, or last. But even that has a statement. Do you go out before the Duchess or VIP's have arrived? Or after. Do you go out and do your best tricks before the gathered commonfolk or reserve your most impressive rear and gallop for the gathered nobility.

When they go out there, then they can do several things. They can offer a salute which is typically the lifting of the chosen weapon. Often the weapon of their contest or their favourite if they compete in more than one type of contest. So if a man prefers the sword to the joust then he would salute with his sword.

Traditionally you are supposed to salute the person to whom you owe fealty. Therefore, if the Empress was in attendance, then everyone should salute the Empress. But some might take this opportunity to salute their own liege lord over their overlord in order to curry favour and display devotion. Or if they want to be remembered to the overlord then they might salute them instead. Or they might do that at their own Lord's insistance.

For example, using Skellige as the model because their Lords and systems are simpler than the more tangled chain of fealties that Redania boasts.

Svein is Lord of the village and owes his fealty to Helfdan. Helfdan is Jarl and owes his fealty to the Queen. So a warrior of Svein's village has three choices as to whom he should salute. If he is happy where he is and wishes his victory to reflect on the village then he would salute Svein. But Svein might want all of his warrior's efforts to reflect on Helfdan. So he would order his warrior to salute Helfdan. But Helfdan's devotion to the Queen is well known. Therefore, he wants every warrior under his command to salute the Queen. But if that warrior is dissatisfied with Svein's leadership, then he might salute Helfdan, or some other Lord who is putting together a raiding party, or some other Jarl if he is hoping to change clans. It is also not unheard of for a man to salute the father of the woman he wants to marry or his own parents.

Wheels within wheels within wheels.

Then a man can ask for his lady's favour. Not as popular as you might think because of the rose thing but we will get to that shortly. The lady's favour is supposed to be a symbol of the lady lending their own strength to the knight's own. It's supposed to be flattering to be asked and it is not unusual for Ladies to carry a number of small scarves or ribbons, which are the traditional signs of a lady's favour, to the stands for this purpose.

This practice has fallen into misuse a lot more recently. It used to be a way that a knight could begin a courtship and the lady would acknowledge this by handing over the scarf. Unfortunately this would mean that the lady would often turn to their father's before agreeing to hand over the scarf or symbol of favour. So a knight was risking it all in what is supposed to be a grand romantic gesture, but it was becoming more... staid and could be arranged in advance. Which kind of goes against the romance of the thing.

The other problem with it was that, with the increase in power of women in the continent, (Queen Cerys of Skellige, Queen Regent Adda of Redania, Queen Anais of Temeria, Queen Meve of Lyria and Rivia and of course Empress Cirilla of Nilfgaard) then this means that women are much more confident in simply ignoring the request for favour by pretending to have a conversation with someone else in the stands.

So now it is more of a gesture of love. Often between husbands and wives or approved fiancees where the betrothal is well known, where the love is established and reciprocated. Were I to ride, which of course I wouldn't, but where I to, I would be able to confidently ask Ariadne for her favour for that purpose.

But then we come to the rose.

The rose is, as far as I know, a tradition that was founded in Toussaint. Other places have individual tournaments of the rose, or they might have the main prize be some kind of crafted rose made out of glass, gold or carved out of some precious jem. The winner of the melee or the joust would then receive the rose and be expected to give that rose to "the most beautiful woman in attendance". I will leave it to your imagination as to all of the different ways that such an action could go wrong, or right for both the giver and the receiver of the rose in question.

But in Toussaint, the place where they all but invented courtly and romantic love. A knight is encouraged, or even expected, to give a rose to the object of their desires. This tradition is even codified down to the shade of the rose and the state of blooming of the rose on the day of it's gifting. The shade is decided on a scale from white through pink and red to a deep burgundy that is almost black. This is the scale that denotes the carnal nature of the devotion.

If the rose is white then that would signal that, although the knight might want for more in his deepest heart of hearts, his devotion is pure and unsullied. It would be the kind of rose that you would throw at the feet of your liege's wife, a mother, a sister or ruler if your ruler happened to be female. The romantic form of the white rose is something that you might give to a lady who married someone else. It would be an acknowledgment of an unrequited love, or a love that could not be.

But it is a symbol of great pride for a lady to capture many white roses because such things suggest great beauty and devotion.

The redder the shade of the petals, the closer that love has come towards consummation, or the more carnal the nature of the devotion. Pink would be passionate embraces and ardent kisses. I am quoting from one of the minstrels of Toussaint that explained all of this to me. Red would be a love that has been consummated at some time whereas a deep, burgundy would be an ardent and passionate affair consisting of many trysts.

Or it might be a symbol between a loving and happily married couple.

Or a desire to get really carnal with the person that you are tossing the rose to.

So I would send a white rose to Ciri, Emma, mother, or possibly the Queen Regent if no-one else was in attendance. Or a pink rose to Ariadne. After we are married and after our wedding night then I would use a red rose and after that, at a time of our choosing, then it would move into a deeper red.

The age of the rose is supposed to denote the age, or depth of that feeling. So if a knight has just met the girl or seen them from afar, then it should be a rose still in bud. Wheras a man who has met the object of his desires or devotion many times would send a newly bloomed rose. A man who knows the person well would send a rose in full bloom.

A knight is supposed to only carry one rose to the opening ceremony and to hurl it at the feet of their chosen lady, but that tradition is genuinely ignored providing said knight makes his offerings to show love of different kinds.

Yes, it was winter and yes, that means that roses tend not to bloom so much. The majority of these roses were carved from wood and painted accordingly. There were artisans selling them in the streets and making a small fortune off knights desperate to properly declare their love.

It is a fascinating science and watching it all happen at the various stages could keep a courtier entertained for days. Which knight comes out first, which knight comes out last, who comes out in groups, who does the tricks, who just rides steadily along and salutes the head of the tournament and their liege.

Why might that be?

Where do the roses go? what shade of the roses are thrown? it goes on and on and on. As I say, a courtier can be fascinated by it all and if I was by myself with nothing better to do, then I would have almost enjoyed it. But that was not what was going on here. I was a performer and could not really look around to see what was going on. My job was to laugh as though those knights that threw a rose at the feet of Ariadne were making a joke rather than insulting me to my face.

Which they were and Syanna took careful note of who I might need to destroy at a later date.

Not that I would, but it is occasionally useful to know who your enemies are in the crowd before you get to that specific place of having to be nice to them in public.

Ariadne did indeed get more than one rose, mostly of the white variety, but there were one or two red roses in full bloon that were clearly there to get some form of reaction. I was well aware that Ariadne had taken loversin the past, but judging from her reaction to those roses being thrown, I rather thought that she would prefer to lick the arm pit of a bog hag than acknowledge their affections.

You are welcome for that image by the way.

Emma also got a number of roses. Again, mostly white but with one or two insulting dark red roses in the mix. A possibility that was truly laughable and I saw her eyes flashing as she made notice of those knights that had thrown those flowers.

But by far the most common recipient of those roses was the portrait of Francesca. So much so that the stand that the portrait was resting on had to be lifted clear of the pettals and rose-buds. A not insignificant portion of those came from the knights of her name, who rode out in formation and with one, unified, gesture, took out white roses and threw them at the feet of the portrait. This before they drew their relevant weapons and roared a salute. It was stirring and emotional to see that and I was not the only one who wiped a tear from my eye.

Mark would later comment. "If that is our only legacy... her only legacy I mean. That she has given her name and appearance to a group of knights devoted to righting wrongs, then I can be proud of that."

He was not wrong.

The Duchess was also trying to start another tradition here. There was now going to be an annual tournament which was going to be Francesca's tournament. She admitted that, in the long run, there would be little that she could do to prevent it from becoming "Saint Francesca's tournament" but for now, she would see to it that people remembered the woman rather than the figure that she was becoming. A fact for which I was grateful.

What this meant was that the ceremonial words that are suppsed to be spoken at the beginning of this event or that event, the things that are said, normally, by the Patron of the Tournament, would be said by either the Duchess or any future wife of any future Duke, or by any woman that wished to honour Francesca. These women would be chosen by the knights of Francesca in the future from those people that the knights had been able to save. This honour would ensure that the rank, title, attractiveness or wealth of the lady would not be taken to account. So the words of benediction could be said by the youngest child to the oldest woman providing the words could be heard clearly. But also by the highest lady in the land down to the lowest "street rat".

I liked that. I rather think that Francesca would have approved of that.

In this case however, Emma, Ariadne and Laurelen would all take part in the ceremony at the beginning of the Joust, the Archery and the sword respectfully. My understanding was that the Duchess would speak at the beginning of the overall contest and Syanna would pronounce the opening of the Mace. There were some others that would be opening the remaining tournaments of Wrestling, staff and spear.

It was a good day all told, the bright winter air of Toussaint meant that the stands were full and cheered every appropriate place and to every proper gesture. They booed and hissed the villains and they cheered the heroes.

Because yes. The show is also part of what people come to see. And whenever there is the need for a show, there is also a need for a hero, and another need for a villain. I am told that the knights that take on these roles come to relish them although, having met some of them later and in private, I can also tell you that one of the nicest knights I had the good fortune to meet competed as a villain in black armour, berating the crowd indimiscriminate of rank for their discourtesies, while one of the most arrogant sons of bitches that I have had the misfortune to encounter was a beloved hero to the people.

There is something to learn from that, I have no idea what but there was something to that.

So we attended that ceremony and heard the Duchess speak. It was not a small speech but it was also not the longest speech that I have ever heard either and the Duchess spoke well. I don't know why I was surprised by that but I was. She was speaking to the crowd, to the assembled knights who all came onto the field at the end for her final review and the other nobles that were watching in the box.

She welcomed us back to Toussaint and admonished all those within Toussaint to ensure that our memories of this visit would be far more pleasurable than the memories that we had been left with from the previous visit.

She spoke briefly about the Francesca that she knew. The Down to earth, loving and caring person who was at home in the hightest court or on the dirtiest street. How she had seen Francesca speak with a homeless beggar before turning around and speaking to the highest Lords of the land. How she cracked a filthy joke while deftly avoiding the trap of breaking a young suitors heart by letting him down with kindness. And about how she wept for those less fortunate than themselves.

Then she spoke how this was a new dawn for Toussaint, about how this was a new dawn for the world, where the knights of Toussaint would take what they know and what they can do before showing the world what it means to be a knight.

I wish I had transcribed that speech. I have no doubt that someone has and if you have any kind of interest in Oratory, then you should get hold of a copy of that speech and read it. I think it's the kind of speech that is going to be studied for more than a few years to come.

But I wasn't paying that much attention to it, or rather, not that kind of attention to it. The spell of Toussaint had caught me up again and I was unashamedly along for the ride. I leapt to my feet and roared my approval along with every other man woman and child there.

It was late afternoon by the time we all came out of the stands. As the guests of honour, we were there for some time which was when I first heard the potentially mortifying news. I was told that I would always have a seat of honour for the winter tournament of Toussaint, now renamed the Tournament of Francesca. In theory this is a great honour. The thing that was slightly more off-putting was the suggestion that I was part of Toussaint culture now. There would always be a seat here for me. But not just for me, for Emma, Mark and Sam as well. It was emphasised for me many times. There would always be a seat here for me. Even after I had died, there would still be a seat for me here.

I wondered if that would mean that, along with Francesca, I too had a destiny of being some semi-mythical figure to the following generations of Toussaint citizens. Lady Syanna looked at me strangely.

"Destiny? Lord Frederick, you are already a figure of myth and legend to these people. You chased Jack through the streets, seduced the vampire and woke up Sleeping Beauty. I can go on if you wish."

I don't think I like being a figure of legend. It sounds rather fatal to me.

So we finally escaped after making small talk with the Duchess and some of the other ladies in waiting. I met Sir Guillaume's wife for the first time there, Lady Vivienne de Tibris au Launfal. I might have got those titles the wrong way round though so please don't be too angry with me if I've got it wrong. The lady was charming, intelligent and everything that Sir Guillaume suggested that she might be. In every way that he is devoted to her, she is devoted to him and I have rarely seen a couple be truer in their love for each other. I can only hope that Ariadne and I can feel as deeply as the pair of them can after a year or two of marriage.

When I said this to Lady Vivienne she laughed and told me that she was sure of it.

"Why so sure?" I wondered.

"Would you like my answer based on observation or experience?" She said with a smile.

"Both."

"Very well. My observation is that even when Lady Ariadne is apart from you, she never allows herself to be outside of being able to look over at you. This is not the kind of "keeping an eye" on someone that a domineering wife would have over a potentially errant husband. But more the fact that she likes to look at you. To make sure that you are safe, comfortable, happy and relaxed. When you are not these things, she will either approach you herself in order to put her arm round you and remind you of her presence, or she will send someone else if she is tied up. Your Witcher companion or either of your siblings if available. Failing that a servant will approach and offer you a drink at her behest. Or an ally will arrive to see to matters before she nods her satisfaction and either steers you over towards the company of friends or to something more diverting. Either that or she takes you over to safer harbour herself."

"I see." I felt warm and fuzzy by this observation as I'm sure you would too. "And experience?"

Lady Vivienne deftly comandeered a pair of drinks from a passing servant and handed me one of the delicate glasses. "My experience was different to hers. But I was no less a prisoner. He came and he loved me. He insisted upon rescuing me, even when I resisted his valour. I believed him to be just another petty knight who was shallow enough to be distracted by my appearance but also because the curse was all I knew and the possibility of happiness was frightening. I am well aware of how beautiful I am to the male gaze and I worked hard to not allow that to go to my head as a child. I thought I would just be a pretty bauble to him.

"But that was not the case.

"He saw that I was in distress and instead of seeing that as a barrier to overcome in order to conquer me, he saw it as something that he could help wth. He did all of the things that you are supposed to do as a knight to win a lady's heart. But when he found that I was cursed, he didn't stomp through the undergrowth in his armour with his charger and lance to slay the monster. He did that thing that you, Lord Dandilion and every Witcher I have ever met wants us to do. He hired a professional in order to help me. He genuinely cared, he loved me not the idea of me which was powerful.

"He would not allow me to remain cursed and he would not allow me to carry that burden alone. He saved me, despite personal danger to himself. He saved me and stood up to me, refusing to allow a situation where I could remain cursed, or a lesser version of what I have now, when he could have walked away. Indeed, arguably, he should have walked away, especially after I had shown him nothing but coldness. He stood up to me and he saved me despite myself. I owe him everything that I have now, everything. But those are not the reasons that I love him.

"I love him because any other man, or most men in Toussaint, would have held that over my head in order to leverage a marriage with me. Any other man would treat me as though I owed him something. Guillaume thinks that he owes me, that he does not deserve me. I intend to spend the rest of my life proving that he deserves as much of me as he can handle."

"The situation is different." I suggested.

"Yes it is. But not as much as you might think. You freed her in a much more literal sense than Guillaume freed me. You stood up to her, you stopped her from being foolish. You shocked her, you surprised her. She is nine hundred years old, when was the last time someone managed to do that do you think? That's a rhetorical question. You acted in a way that she did not expect, you treated her as an equal and then you cared about her and treated her as a person. You treated her for the person she is and you saw her for what she was going through. You... were honest with her. I think that many people, including you, would be surprised as to just how much of a difference that that can make."

Lady Vivienne is a very wise woman I think, and Sir Guillaume is a very lucky man. She insisted that, at some point in the future, that Ariadne and I should dine with her and Guillaume as she hopes that the four of us can become friends.

I would like that too.

But after the opening ceremony we went back to our rooms as I, for one, felt the need for another hot bath. Something to chase the shivers and the discomfort away as well as the unpleasant feeling of having been on display for a long time to people that, very possibly, didn't like me very much.

That night there was another banquet which was the banquet of the opening of the tournament. A very prestigious affair that I was kind of dreading. I have been to these before but what it boils down to, in my experience which is not that considerable, but it tends to be a lot of over armoured big men with pretty women hanging off their arms. It does not help that I know exactly why I hate it as well and that reason is jealousy. Mostly of the historical kind.

I was never the handsome young man with the muscles and the shining hair that could wield the swords and wear the armour and still look handsome with it. I never had my choice of the girls that were attracted to those kinds of things which, to my jealous younger eyes, were always the prettier ones and I was always left in the corner, nursing my strong drink while glaring balefully at all the people that I hated and despised.

Now I am older, I should feel better about this kind of thing. I know that and you know that. I am marrying one of the great beauties of the world with the added little touch of spice that she is also one of the most terrifying and powerful women in the world. That night I would have another, undeniably beautiful woman in my bed although I confidently predicted that I would be far too tired, as well as with the lingering effects of illness, to do anything about it. I know that the majority of the girls that I used to lust after when I was younger would have driven me mad with boredom had I been forced to spend more than a few hours in their company. Let alone a marriage.

And I know that the skills of a knight are not the same as the skills of a fighter and a killer which, unfortunately for me, I now have. They are not the kinds of skills that lend themselves to shining hair, laughing eyes and sparkling armour. Nor are they the kinds of skills that have beautiful women hanging on your every word. They are the kinds of skills that make women like that scream and shriek while looking for someone to protect them.

I am aware that I am a lucky man and that I have become luckier as the time goes on. But I can remember a time between when I was sixteen and when I left Oxenfurt to go on the road that I would have traded everything I have to have been one of those young men with their golden armour and their winning smiles.

And sometimes, especially in those weak moments where I might have had a bit too much to drink, or I might be a bit tired or ill, then those feelings come rushing back in a flood.

And I hate it. Both because the feelings are still there and I hate myself for feeling them.

But, once again, I was there to be on show and play my part. So I put my best clothes on, as provided by the Duchess' own tailor, in the same way that those knights put on their suits of armour. I was grateful that the fashion for absurdly thin ceremonial swords had moved on so that I could wear a dagger in it's place. A dagger that I was much more comfortable in the use of and I stepped out to meet the family.

And instantly felt better.

Kerrass was wearing a new suit of armour that I had never seen him wear before. A blue tunic with a similarly blue hood. Small patches of chainmail covered those areas that are vital should they be cut. Thickened studded leather shoulder guards as well as criss-crossed belts that made up his sword harness. The belts also carried potion bottles as well as a large pouch that could contain reference materials should he need them.

Kerrass later admitted that the potion bottles mostly contained strong alcohol that he would drink instead of killing an idiot should it come up.

Bracers and vambraces of tough, brown, thickened leather as well as boots made of the same. The sword scabbards were made from the same shade of leather meaning that it must have all been dyed to match. He kept his own swords though. The cat snarling from the steel sword and the Wave-Serpent looking out from the silver one.

He pretended to hate the outfit, particularly the hood which he thought was a foolish affectation. He argued that no Witcher worth his swords would ever wear a hood when sneaking up on a monster. on the grounds that it limited his field of vision. So he pretended to hate it, but I rather think that he liked the new armour and could occasionally be seen to be checking himself in reflective surfaces.

But I wasn't looking at him when I emerged from my room.

Mark was wearing a set of his Cardinal's robes. Just shy of wearing his hat and his formal stole. Gold thread and ornamentation hung from every fold and the holy symbol of the Eternal Flame glittered in the firelight.

Mark hates these robes and these ones are not the original ones that he was given, nor are they the robes that he preaches in. These are the robes for when he is rubbing shoulders with royalty and nobility. Every precious gem is made from glass, the gold thread is actually yellow while the "gold" is just brass. The original robes had the jewels taken out and sold in order to give the money to the hospitals that house those victims of the churches former zeal. A fact which Mark takes great delight in informing everyone who annoys him.

This set of robes is even further tricked. When someone calls him out for perceived hypocrisy on his views about the church needing to give to the poor rather than keeping the wealth for themselves, are invited to choose whichever stone that they like and see if they can sell it. Which is when they find that it is glass and worth a couple of pennies each. But it enables him to rub shoulders with the highest in the land without seeming out of place.

He then goes on to say that he would be happy doing so in his ragged old cassock but the heads of the church objected to this idea. A fact that Mark finds funny.

But I wasn't looking at him either.

Emma and Laurelen stood together, grinning like fools. They were wearing matching dresses but of different colours. Laurelen has said, many times now, that she would be overjoyed to be allowed to wear Coulthard family colours in her outfit choices as she would love to be associated with Emma. But with one thing or another, there just wasn't room for that. So instead she settled for the same style. Which in these cases were a slightly more conservative cut of the Toussaint gowns of current fashion.

But cut to allow a lot of stocking'd leg if you know what I mean. It is as much as a little brother can admit to to say that Emma has nice legs so I can't really comment. All I can say is that Emma spends a good amount of time on horseback as that is still her favoured form of exercise. And I might be biased in saying it, but she has always been beautiful to my eyes. She was wearing a gown of deep red. I guessed that there was a statement there but I had no idea what it was.

Laurelen wore a similar dress, but in deep, forest green. There would be no doubting who was together with whom though. Of course Laurelen is beautiful. That is not the point.

But I wasn't looking at them either.

Instead, I only had eyes for one person. A person who's dress was just finishing being fussed over by Anne, who I guessed to be some kind of co-conspirator. I literally stumbled when I saw what Ariadne was wearing.

I'm not joking. The old thing about tripping over your own feet? I did that.

Much to everyone else's amusement. But I wasn't paying attention to them for that.

My mouth fell open and went dry. I felt my heart race and sweat stand out on my head as this vision walked towards me.

Ariadne had gone the other way. She was wearing black. Normally she prefers lighter, summer dresses of colour and flow. She enjoys the double takes when people expect the sinister vampire lady and find a happy, young looking, woman who laughs and jokes and rushes about to help people. A youthful looking lady that comments on how beautiful the weather is and regularly tips her face back to enjoy the warmth and the light of the sun. A young lady who skips into puddles in new rain fall. She does this mostly because she still, after all this time, glories in her freedom from confinement while enjoying the effect that it has on her critics as a happy side-effect.

But that was not the persona that she was wearing tonight.

Tonight she was wearing her Evil Queen Persona. She wore a tight fitting gown of the deepest black that the Duchess' dyemakers could manage. Made from a material that felt lightly furry to the touch, but what the material was, I am far too uncultured to guess at. Patterns of dark stones were sewn into the matterial so it seemed to shimmer as she moved. Ariadne needs no corsetry as I've said before. One of the benefits of use of magic and the type of species she was.

The dress was cut low, but not really. There was actually a panel of other fabric in the way so that you couldn't see anything. It was made out of the same stuff that covered her arms and as part of her skirts. It was a thin, sheer material that meant that it was easy to convince yourself that you could see something if you just looked hard enough and if she moved in just the right way and stood in the right light. But there was some disguising which meant that even if Ariadne wanted you to, you would never actually be able to see anything. There was also a high backed collar that came round the back of the dress, rigid and hard. The same kind of thing that you imagine when someone describes an evil Queen. It was impossibly sexy.

She wore makeup to. Subtle touches to emphasise cheekebones and her throat. But the main thing was the shadowing of her eyes which were shaded in darkness which served only to make her eyes stand out and...

Oh, I don't know what I'm talking about. There were other colours in that shadow too, Dark greens and purples that almost reminded me of a peacock's feathers.

Appropriate for Toussaint.

There were only two splashes of colour on her apart from her eyes. The first was a deep red choker, the same shade of red has her symbol of the Eternal Flame which was attached to the ribon. The other was a goldern circlet, which served two purposes to my eyes. The first was that it held her elaborate hair arrangement into place. The second was that it reminded all present that she used to be a Queen.

"Why Freddie." She drawled, enjoying the reaction that she had produced. "I do think you are struck dumb."

I burbled something. Her voice was like silk and reached down into the depths of my soul and undid the bonds that held my fear and lust in check, so that both ripped through me like wildfire. The first silly thought that crossed my mind was to wonder who had taught her to talk like that.

She sashayed towards me, hips swaying and showing that hint of leg as she walked up, placed a gentle hand on my chest, over my heart and a wicked smile on her face. A smile that promised all kinds of …..

Yeah, I'm gonna stop there.

She came to a halt as the other people in the room, including family, Anne and Syanna as well as more than one of the knights of Francesca as well as Guillaume who had returned to duty after the opening ceremony, fell to whooping their enjoyment of the moment.

"Well?" She demanded.

Breath hissed between my teeth in a sigh.

"Goddess," Kerrass joked, "but if I'd known that I could shut him up by dressing like that I would have bought myself a dress."

"You don't have the figure for it." Mark replied dryly.

"Oh I don't know." Emma responded. "A bit of extra padding here and here and I think Kerrass would look very fetching in a dress."

"He certainly has some well turned calves." Laurelen added.

There was some more laugher and Ariadne's smile turned less predatory and more gentle. Thus releasing me.

Mostly.

"You..." I took a breath and tried again. "You look..."

She leant forward and gently kissed me. "I know that you are dreading tonight." She told me. "And I know why. So for tonight, I want you to remember that I am yours and no-one elses. I love you and no-one else. You get to marry me, not some idiot who can only hold a lance. All eyes will be on us tonight and people will look at you with jealousy. Enjoy it."

"I'm not sure I will like it. I do not enjoy making people jealous."

"You might not. But in that moment, think of them as all the people that told you that they were better than you because they took up the sword instead of the quill. Because these people undoubtedly think that. And you get to marry me. You might enjoy that."

"I love you." I told her.

"I know. And I love you too."

We stood for a while with our heads together.

"Will you..." I began. "One day, when we're alone. Will you...?"

She giggled delightedly before her eyes went hooded and she leant forward so that she could whisper in my ear. "Yes." She purred into my ear. "One day, I will dress like this in the bed chamber. Only with far less modesty."

I shivered, and not with the cold.

There was a short pause as we all waited for the call down to the great hall. Lady Syanna waiting next to the door in her own ball gown that was cut so that the skirts could be removed at speed and with a bodice that I have no doubt was armoured in several particularly important spots.

Anne took the opportunity to crack a joke. She walked up to Ariadne and I and shook her head as she looked at us. "You know what, if I had a woman like that, I would not settle for anything less. How am I supposed to take the place of this? I feel positively dowdy. How's a girl supposed to measure up to something like that?"

Ariadne laughed and threw her arms round the other woman. My understanding was that Anne had made several particularly interesting suggestions when it came to matters of hair style, makeup and style of dress. That Ariadne would have struggled to get it all together if weren't for Anne's help. I should have made a joke, I wish I had made a joke. But I was still struggling to get over the image of what Ariadne looked like. An image that is still seared into my brain.

Unfortunately though, no matter how hard Ariadne worked, I did not enjoy that evening. There were bits of it that I had a good time with, the food and drink was, of course, excellent throughout. I enjoyed the moment where I walked in with Ariadne on my arm, the looks of jealousy from all of the meat-heads who's jokes I had once been the butt of as well as the expressions on the girl's faces. I did feel a bit guilty afterwards and decided that we would only do this kind of thing occasionally when we both felt the need to make a point.

But that jealousy and, in a couple of faces, the raw hate that was levelled at us was not something that I could come to enjoy on a regular basis. Even though I could tell that that hatred was empty and lacked teeth. It was a petty hatred, the hatred of men who had wanted to dominate this space in order to give them advantages in the coming tournaments, only to learn that other people here, namely us, were playing on a different level.

I also enjoyed the dancing. As well as Ariadne, who pointedly refused offers to dance from every eligible young knight going while also encouraging me to dance with anyone who asked or suggested. I danced with Emma and Laurelen of course, but also Lady Syanna who turned out to be surprisingly graceful given all the weaponry that was hidden in her dress that I could feel when the dance required us to be closer. She was enjoying herself, it is an odd kind of person that enjoy's the hatred that is being levelled at them from all around, but she is one such, or she certainly appears to. Another person that Ariadne and I find ourselves determined to make her our friend.

I invited Lady Duberton to dance as she seemed a bit lonely given that her husband was still on duty before firmly steering her back to where our family was so that she could talk with Emma, Laurelen and everyone. I also was left feeling clumsy as Lady Vivienne invited me to dance. But that was nothing compared to when I shared a dance with the Duchess herself.

Truth be told, I danced a little too much given the fragile state of my health. But it was to either do that, or to have to put up with all the people that wanted to talk to me. I did my best to be gracious, but that was harder than it sounds. There were a number of conversations that I had with lots of people and they were always the same conversations. I could have almost written them out before hand and when someone started talking, I could have just handed them one of those cards where I answered every question that they had in advance.

"Yes, Ariadne looked particularly beautiful that evening. No, I did not think that her ensemble was inappropriate. Yes, that did meant hat I rather thought that she could wear what she liked. No, I did not think that she was showing up the Ladies of Toussaint. No, I'm sure that she meant no insult and nor do I."

That was a popular one. Along with another favourite that I understand Emma and Mark had had to deal with for quite a while.

"Thank you for your condolences on the matter of our sister. Your well wishes are gratefully received. No, we have not learnt anything further. No, you are right, even if we had we would probably not be at liberty to discuss it. Yes, it really is a mystery as to what happened. Well thank you my Lord, if we think of anything that you can do to help, we will be sure to be in touch."

But there was another conversation that I found myself party to that was particularly hard.

"Yes. Running through the woods in Northern Redania while sick with fear, blood loss, exhaustion, exposure and poisoning was desperately unpleasant. As was being tortured by a group of church knights. And no, it is not a lie or a falsehood that certain elements of the Nilfgaardian merchant navy had tried to run me, and the Empress, onto the rocks and kill us.

"Yes. An archer called Daniel really did make an impossible shot and save all of our lives. Yes, I would not be alive were it not for the skills of a common born, battle promoted knight and an Elven outcast. Nor would I be alive if it wasn't for the skills of a Skelligan pirate and his crew.

"No, the guest list for our wedding is rather exclusive, but beyond some personal guests, the invitation list is known only to my sister, the Empress and to the Imperial Master of Ceremonies. So no, I cannot add you to the guest list. Well, I'm sorry that you feel that way but I am sure that there is no need for... I will thank you to keep your voice down and your tone civil or I'm afraid that... Ok, I'm leaving now... I would advise you to remove your hand sir before someone removes it for you."

I'm only exaggerating slightly. That speech in particular was given on no less than six occasions. Each time, matters were prevented from going too far by the large knight who would reach over my shoulder and pluck the hand of the offending idiot away.

But it felt like I was being constantly assaulted by all of that. Constantly. Every time I had to tell the story about an old poacher standing on a hill and shooting into the sun, I felt the exhaustion and the fear in my limbs. I smelt the smoke and the poison on the air.

Every time I spoke about the death of the Wave-Serpent on the rocks of Ard Skellige, I shivered with the remembered cold and the pain of watching comrades and friends die.

I felt those things again, I lived those things again. Held in that time and in that place by the constant reassuring weight of Ariadne on my arm and her occasional soft voice in my head telling me that it was ok. That I had nothing to fear, that I was safe and that it would all be ok.

I would not have made it through that night if it wasn't for her. I would have fled from that place, probably screaming. As it was, I had to escape onto the balcony of the banquet hall for some fresh air on several different occasions, just to feel some cool air on my skin.

When I would return, the conversations would start again. But with the exciting addition that now, people would enquire, quite politely and with much care and attention, as to whether or not I was alright. I would be found a seat or something to sit on and handed a cup of something strong and alcoholic, often a form of brandy that went straight to my head, except when Ariadne could intercept it.

I remember very little of that night. Everyone tells me that I did very well considering everything that was thrown at me. Apparently I fielded accusations of weakness with humour and aplomb. I was calm when people criticised my actions over the course of my adventures displaying an ability to laugh at myself which seemed to upset many of the men present and made many of the women look thoughtful.

I handled the occasional efforts by various people to steal Ariadne away from me, less successfully though.

People were trying to goad me into a fight, there is no doubt about that. They wanted to show off their superiority in the only way that they knew how. Which might have been fine if I had been healthy, or if I was allowed to kill them. But as neither was the case, all that happened was that I would get more and more upset until, eventually, Ariadne would decide that she needed to intervene.

She won no friends in that regard as she soundly chastised the men in question. She asked whether they had so little opinion of her honour that, once given, her word that it could so easily be taken back. She declared that she loved me and that that was the end of it.

Then he would insult me, astonished that I could be considered more of a man than he, then she would insult him, then he would make the mistake of insulting her and then all kinds of things would be thrown around until once, very theatrically, Ariadne burst into tears and had to be consoled, by me, while Syanna and the knights of Francesca went in to deal with the matter while the Duchess got cross at the lack of hospitality being shown towards her guests.

But the problem with that was that I should have been the one to call the scoundral out. That I didn't, was yet another sign of my weakness to these people.

The Duchess was furious. Even though Ariadne was fine, didn't even mess up her make-up, turns out it was a signal that had been agreed on for people to get in the middle of things, which didn't make me feel any better.

But she had made it known that I was sick, recovering from injuries sustained against monsters and evil and now people were taking advantage of that to further their own ends. Her words.

So there were certainly parts of it that were fun. But the greater share of it was less than pleasant. When the entire thing was over we returned to our rooms where Emma, Syanna and Ariadne apologised to me for not telling me about the 'bursting into tears' signal. But by that point I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I had a little weep from the comedown of it all before Ariadne helped me into my rooms and left me to Anne's care.

Not a great night.

I was ill the following morning. Shakes, fever, sweating and the rest. Sir Walther was sent for and his eventual verdict was that I had taken on too much the previous day. He prescribed rest and I was confined to bed. Ariadne and Anne stayed with me to keep me company. I was feeling much better by evening and we ate with the Duchess informally again.

I recovered and so the following day was better. I went to a wine tasting held at Corvo Bianco, hosted by the gentleman that I had met who had invented the new wine from grapes from the vinyard. The one to be called "Francesca." As I say, he was the Major Domo of the place, living in a cottage on the grounds. He was all but in charge while the vinyard owner "and his lady"... Lord Geralt and Lady Yennefer if you are wondering, were away. But also because his Lord and Lady had the grace, his words, to know that there were some things that they knew nothing about. One of which was the administering of a vinyard. So they left him to it and he was able to make the best wine that he could, financed by the proceeds of a Witcher's sword and a Sorceresses spells. We spent a pleasant morning sampling his blends.

Later, we all went to watch some contests at the tournament and went to a party that night.

And so the cycle continued.

It seemed that every days contest was followed by a ball, hosted by a different Lord, Lady, vinyard, guild and great house. There were even a couple of parties hosted by people in absentia. Most notably, I didn't get to meet Lady Orianna although I had been looking forward to meeting that famed patron of the arts. But I saw things and did things during that time in Toussaint, that I would never think that I would be able to under any other circumstances.

I was able to properly settle in and watch a full tournament, betting on the outcome and watching the contests. Astonished to find that my observations were valued and that people were watching where I was placing my money as, much to my dismay and Kerrass' delight, it turns out that I was right more often than I was wrong. So it became political as such things often did. I placed a considerable amount of money on Sir Guillaume for both tournament champion and the Champion of the Saint. Promising the proceeds to go to the coffers of the orphanage.

I watched the sword contest and the spear contest for a while as well, before it became obvious that what I was watching was as far from a real fight as it could be imagined. It was far more for show and spectacle than it was for anything else and I found that I did not enjoy this nearly as much as I did the lance jousts. The archery competition was something to see though. And again, I found that I could comment better on those contests than I would have thought possible.

I went with Mark to the temple of Saint Lebioda and had a good look at the statue there. The temple is a surprisingly small, very spiritual place that I found that I liked a lot. It was peaceful in that cave and it would not have surprised me to learn that the Prophet really did gain some kind of insight in that place. Some of those places throughout the continent that claim that the saint stayed there or rested his head there, or ate there are of, in my opinion, somwhat dubious truth. If the prophet really had spoken in all of those places and slept, eaten, preached, meditated and received enlightenment in all those caves, on all those hillsides and atop all of those mountains. If he had really done all of those things then he would still be doing them.

But I could really believe that he had spent some time there.

I helped Mark preach. It was exactly the same sermon that I have already recounted, the one about service to something other than yourself in order to make the world a better place. Except this time Mark didn't have any of his normal helpers, so I performed those parts instead. I have to admit that it was a lot of fun helping Mark to dress in his formal robes so that he could preach to the masses. It was a lot like helping Kerrass into his armour or helping him strap his swords on. That kind of thing.

I don't know how successful his preaching was though. I suspect that it went over the heads of a lot of the people present at the time. The knights of Saint Francesca approved though.

I did a whole bunch of visiting as well. I ate Clam chowder at the inn on the bridge which name I am currently forgetting, I wanna say that it was the cockeral. I can say that it was delicious though and you should definitely go and try some if you find yourself in Toussaint and feel the need for some fish soup.

It was all lovely and there was still more to see and do. I was reassured by Ariadne that we would need to wait in Toussaint for some time after the Tournament was over and the knights of Francesca had taken up their official duties. So I had no problems at all agreeing to visit for hunts, bouts of falconry, opportunities to dine and test some of the delicious wines that were available. I also wanted to see some of the other, more historically relelvent sites that Toussaint had to offer, now that I would have the time.

But in the mean time, there were jousts to watch, swordsmanship and spear contests to judge and archery to bet on.

And then there were the parties. If I wrote about everything that I saw and did during those few weeks then I would still be writing it for years to come. We laughed, we drank, we ate and we danced. We watched jugglers toss two handed swords to each other in sprialing patterns of impossibility. I saw archers fire arrows that sang, with ribbons attached to their fletchings so that they danced in the air. I saw kites made of paper and cane to resemble animals of myth and legend. I saw artists paint including one memorable gentleman who asked permission to paint Emma nude. At first she was scandalised by the idea but she came round to it under the persuasion of both the Duchess and, or all people, Laurelen.

I heard poets sing and recount their verses and I stood in rapt awe of a choir of children who came together to sing something. I have no idea what it was as the words were indistinct. But the music itself was this flowing, haunting melody with harmonies that blended together to form a glorious whole. It was like a tapestry of sound, where each voice was a thread and each thread went together to form one glordious picture.

I saw a play that brought tears to my eyes depicting the final rescue of the Empress by Lord Geralt, a play that, apparently, Lord Geralt has banned from being performed in his presence on pain of his displeasure, which can be considerable. So the palyers take every opportunity to display it when he is elsewhere.

We did not stay for the piece of musical theatre that was written to depict the night of the long fangs though. I rather thought that it would make Ariadne uncomfortable so I pleaded off, even though I would have enjoyed seeing the artifice involved. But to Toussaint as a whole, the higher Vampire Dettlaff was a villain of the blackest sort and I rather suspected that he would not have been portrayed well by those people that would be taking part.

Syanna agreed as she was generally not portrayed too well in such things either, even when she deserved the unpleasantness that came of that. Ariadne thanked me for removing her from the situation. She would have sat through it for the sake of politics and to show that she was not affected by such things. But that would have been a lie. She was affected by these things and very nearly catestrophically insulted by them. Syanna promised to convey Ariadne's displeasure to the relevent people. Conferring later, we suspected that it was a calculated insult and it certainly seems that way with the benefit of hindsight.

But I will leave that to other judges.

But other than that blemish, Toussaint was putting on a show for us, misguided wellwishers not withstanding and that died off after that first night. When the knights in question were too busy either recovering from the previous days contests or preparing for the following days trials so I didn't have to deal with people coming to talk to me about this or that.

Truth be told, at one point I commented to Syanna that it was good of the people of Toussaint to put on such a show as they had. She laughed at me.

"Did I say something funny?" I wondered. I was becoming used to Syanna's humour now.

She nodded. "This is not a show. This is Toussaint."

I stared at her in horror. "You mean it's like this all the time?"

She nodded, barely stifling her laughter.

"All the parties and tournaments and banquets and balls?"

She stopped bothering to hold in her giggling.

"Don't you get tired?" I finally wondered.

Then she shrugged. "This is Toussaint." She said as though that explained everything.

It is a madness to live in Toussaint. I do not think that I could do it myself, but it was a magical time. The only blemish on it all being that I was still ill.

Mostly what that looked like was that I was exhausted and got tired easily. But there were other symptoms as well. Same as they ever were so I won't go over them again except briefly. People did their best to be sympathetic and understanding, but there was a problem with it all that they didn't really understand why I could look, sound and act normal at one point and then be in tears, shaking and sweating the next. They just could not understand it.

Not helped by the fact that neither could I. Ariadne would be quick to claim that it was a sickness of the mind which is all well and good, but not many people knew that. They understood injury and physical illness, and agreed that I had been through a lot. But in the vast majority of cases, people get better from those kinds of things and they couldn't understand why I was not.

Neither could I. Neither can I.

In the end we lied. We told them that it was essentially a head injury. Knights understand that kind of thing. Sir Walther also called it Helmet shock.

After a little while of this though, more than one person came up to me to tell me that they knew exactly what I was going through, that they sympathised and that they understood the lie. Thus making me more comfortable.

Lord Palmerin even took me aside once and told me that, although he could not fathom what I was going through, that I had his understanding and sympathy... indeed, he said on that subject:

"No-one can ever know what you're going through. No-one. And anyone that claims that they can is wrong or lying to you. How can they know. They are not you, nor were they there at the time. I might have completely ignored what you went through, or it might have killed me. Just as you might have completely ignored what I went through, or it might have killed you. But no-one can ever say that they know what you're going through except on a clinical level. So if some well meaning idiot comes up to you, at a party or somewhere else, and looks you in the eyes all soulfully and tells you that they know what you're going through. Then punch them in the face."

He actually got quite worked up about it.

But I digress.

He told me that he had had something similar happen to him. After the disaster of the Fish-market he had found that he could no longer stand the presence of fish. Not in his food, not near his food, not in his vicinity. He would go miles out of his way to avoid it where possible and otherwise cut through it quickly where impossible.

Because otherwise the smell, sight and taste of fish would take him back to that time and place and suddenly he was fighting for his life. He felt the rasp in his throat from where he was screaming for his fellows to stay out of the Witcher's way. He could smell the blood and see his friends and companions dying.

And that had just been for one night of horror. He told me that he could not comprehend what it would be like going through the year that I had had.

I felt... odd to be told that. I felt as though he had built me up and made me feel very small at the same time.

I asked him if I will ever get better.

"You will get better." He said. "There will be good days and bad days. There will be days when you don't want to emerge from your bed. Then there will be other days when you spend the day in tears and sometimes it will switch between the two at a moments notice. But the truth is that it's not about curing the problem, it's about getting used to the problem. It's about managing the problem. About seeing it coming and moving, or acting to head it off before it becomes an issue. It is a fight. A constant one and that is why you are tired all the time and why you sometimes feels so helpless.

"The trick is to never give in. To keep fighting, no matter what. And may I say, just as I have found someone and something worth fighting for. So you have the same." He looked pointedly at Ariadne.

His words were not really that comforting, but I felt better for them and I told him so.

Looking back now, all those days and nights seemed to merge into one for me. Days of splendour, colour, food and drink. Of laughing, dancing, shouting and speaking. But also weeping, sweating, shaking and a fatigue so tiring that I could barely lift my head from my pillow.

Everyone helped. Of course they did, but Anne proved invaluable. She was always there in the middle of the night. A heavy presence whispering me to wakefulness from a nightmare. Holding me close while my heart slowed and my breathing became regular. She would send me off to the day with a hug and a kiss in the morning and greet me with the same at night. She literally acted as Ariadne's partner in this, it was as though they had some kind of accord that they could communicate through in order to deal with it.

I made new friends during that time and, I'm afraid, I made new enemies as well. But other than with a few examples, I don't really want to give them the time.

I found Syanna's sharp and caustic wit refreshing. She was like the clear and sharp drink that cleans the cloying sweetness from the back of the throat after a desert. She and Ariadne got on well but I think it was her uncompromising acceptance of what she did wrong that was most appealing to me. She had done wrong. She felt that her actions were justified despite also acknowledging the wrongs that she had committed and would now own and live with those mistakes. She is one of the truest to herself people that I have ever met.

Sir Guillaume and his wife Lady Vivienne. I think that Ariadne and I might have found a pair of kindred spirits there. Lord Palmerin is a genial man that I had not expected to be able to make friends with. Lord and Lady Duberton are a sweet couple that I liked a great deal although his duties kept him away from a lot of the gatherings and her culturally enforced shyness meant that it was sometimes an effort of work to get her to say anything.

Captain De La Tour is a man of sly wit and a refreshing ability to admit it when he has made a mistake and even though I don't know him well, there are fewer men that I would rather count on than him.

I could not tell whether or not he agreed with Commander Syanna on their future romantic destiny. As far as I could tell, he absolutely loathed the Knight Commander. Not without reason given their history together but at the same time, he had a respect for the efforts that she was putting in to establish the knights of Saint Francesca. So my feeling was that he was conflicted on the matter.

There were many others, too numerous to mention. I got to know the Duchess better and discovered a wicked, sharp, intelligent and most surprisingly, funny woman underneath. Headstrong to be sure and as stubborn as her sister. But it has been a long time since I laughed quite as loudly as I did when the Duchess was teasing another courtier.

Nor have I shivered quite as much as I did when she admonished the man that had tried to put on a production about the night of Long Fangs before another guest who was also a Vampire.

So that was something of the arena that had been set out when the day came for Sam to come south. But by no means all.

I volunteered to go down and pick him up from the transport circle. I have no idea why but it seemed to be the best fit. I was feeling pretty good that morning, having slept better the previous night. That didn't necessarily mean much in the greater scheme of things, but I did feel a little better. Emma didn't want to do it because she was concerned that no sooner had she gotten down there to meet him then the two of them would start arguing and that wasn't what any of us wanted. And we didn't want to go down there on mass as that would mean a grand procession of us, plus all of our escorts and that sort of thing gets noticed really quick.

But we also didn't want to just send a flunky to go and do it. That lacked the personal, well, familial touch to it all. So I said that I would go. I wanted to talk to him anyway and it would give me an opportunity to talk to him about what Kerrass had found in Angral, why it had been kept secret and out of all of us, I was the person least likely for him to get angry at. I would be able to better explain why we had kept it from him. If he got angry, which he might.

Emma said something unflattering on that subject. Something along the lines of the probability that he would almost certainly want to pick a fight. But I chastised her on that.

So I rose at the appointed hour, dressed, ate breakfast and went down to meet him. Emma, Mark and the rest were going off to tour some of the gardens and otherwise rest up for the big day tomorrow. My plan was simple, I rather thought that Sam would be a lot calmer if I could get some good Toussaint red wine into him first. So I would pick him up, then depending on exactly how late he was, I would take him into town for something to eat and drink where the press of the crowds would make us anonymous and therefore more likely to be able to speak undisturbed.

I have found, that it is sometimes better to discuss confidential things in busy places rather than in quiet areas. Two people sitting with their heads together is unremarkable in a tavern whereas two people with their heads together in a field is cause for gossip.

But still.

As far as Sam flavoured delays go, he wasn't actually that late. No more than three quarters of an hour. I spent the time resting, gossiping with Lady Vigo (who was another person that I was getting to know) and accepting the, now standard from people who know a little bit about things, admonishments to get plenty of rest and to be gentle with myself.

Then she completely undid all the good work by asking me some questions about the shadowy figure on the mound in the North of Redania. She was fascinated by that until she realised that the line of questioning was causing me a little bit of distress and she stopped, looking a litte chagrined.

So I was taking a break from it all. Sitting on the bench, resting my eyes and focusing on the breathing exercises that Lord Palmerin had taught me when Fringilla spoke up.

"He's ready,"

I climbed to my feet, a little more laboriously than I might strictly have liked and stood where indicated while the gate formed.

I had considered how to play this. I had spent a, not small, amount of time thinking about what I was going to say to my brother when I saw him again. We had not parted well and the last time I had any contact with him, I was yelling something about him being cruel to Elves. My last letter, looking back, could easily have been misconstrued as being overtly hostile and petty. So I had wondered.

Do I rush forwards and embrace him like I used to. With a grin and a laugh and an insult. Do I wait to see how he behaved and adjusted my thinking from there. Or do I offer cool and calm handshakes.

The fact that I had spent quite so long worrying about such things before my brother turned up then became the subject of actually a fair bit of shame for me as he turned up, took that split second that everyone takes when they step through a portal, to orient themselves to the new place before he gave a little shake of his head, to clear it, before he saw me and shouted in delight, before rushing towards me to throw his arms around me.

"Freddie you utter bastard."

Believe me when I say that this is a greeting of absolute joy.

I had little chance to do anything other than register the man behind him as being heavily armoured before my brother enveloped me in a bear hug. I instantly felt awful for all the stategising and plotting that we had done in order to figure this whole thing out.

And suddenly, because of course I was, I was on the edge of tears.

Sam pulled back. "You look fucking awful." He declared to me happily.

I brushed tears from my face. "You look as bad." I told him. I meant it too.

His brain caught up with his eyes then. "Freddie are you alright?"

"Fuck no." I staggered and he caught me, lowering me onto my bench.

"Fuck Freddie, what's going on?"

"He is injured." Lady Vigo stood nearby. "Give him a minute."

"God Freddie, I heard you were sick and injured but I had no idea."

"Never mind me." I told him. "What's going on with you?" I sniffed and took out a large hankerchief before blowing my nose hard.

"What about me?"

"Sam, I wasn't joking earlier when I said that you looked as bad as I feel."

He grimaced briefly and a shadow spread across his face. "We might have destroyed the cult in the North Freddie, but that was not a pleasant campaign and one of the things that I'm finding is that victory is hard." He sighed and his smile returned. "There is stuff to talk about though, over wine preferably. I've been in Toussaint for several minutes now and no-one's offered me a drink."

I laughed and the spell was lifted. Sure enough, there was a jug of watered wine nearby and I poured him a goblet, taking another stiff one for myself.

The other man that accompanied Sam was huge and armoured, helm on and visor down.

"You remember Sir Kristoff?" Mark asked me.

"Of course." I said, giving it everything I had to make it seem that I was enthusiastic to see the knight. Another man for whom I had mixed feelings. "How are you Sir knight? It is good to see you."

The knight grunted his acknowledgement of this and nodded to me. "Lord Frederick. Is Sir Rickard in your party?"

I felt my eyebrows rise and glanced over at Sam who's brows were furrowing in annoyance before I looked back at the knight.

"He is not." I answered. "Our guards are provided by the Knights of Francesca here in Toussaint and Emma didn't feel it politic to bring more guards of her own. Sir Rickard is currently overseeing the training of some guards up at Coulthard castle and applying his... imagination to the defences."

I saw Sam nod out of the corner of my eye.

"A shame." Kristoff rumbled and took his helmet off. Presumably now that he wasn't going to be leaping into battle straight away. "We should get under cover Lord Kalayn." He told Sam stiffly. "I do not like you to be so exposed."

"Lord Samuel's safety is guarenteed in Toussaint." One of the two knights that had escorted me down here rumbled from behind her armour. I hadn't learned her name but she was easily as tall as Sir Guillaume and easily as broad across the shoulders as well. She spoke with a broad Toussaint accent that betrayed her origins as coming from the fields and rural areas.

"That is lovely but you will understand if I do not take your word for it." Kristoff rumbled.

The woman was unamused by this. "I do not understand." She said, stiffening. "I will guarentee Lord Kalayn's safety. The duty of protecting him and his family fall to the knights that bear his sister's name and we do so with pride. Do you challenge this?"

"Damn straight I..."

Sam sighed and put his hand on Kristoff's arm. "Kristoff. I know that you are angry that your nemesis isn't here. But do you really have to pick a fight with the first person you meet? Especially when, if you win, you insult and degrade everything that people are trying to do here?"

Kristoff stood there, glowering at the woman who was still face-plated.

Kristoff was the leader of Redanian soldiers that had gone to support Sam in his taking over of Kalayn lands when he went. He didn't like me very much and that was alright because I didn't really like him either. My impression of him is that he is old before his time. He lacked the family connections, the money or the charm in order to gain promotion within the Redanian army and as such had occupied a relatively minor post in the army. This had embittered him somewhat. Especially to people like Sir Rickard who had seen a LOT of action and had been knighted from the rank and file by Jon Natalis.

So the two men had hated each other which was made worse when Kristoff did his best to have Rickard Hanged for insubordination. It wouldn't have worked, but the fact that he tried is one of the things that had angered us all against him.

He is an older man in his later thirties early forties. Balding with a small smattering of facial hair. He's powerfully built, and I can dislike him all I want but I have to admit that I have met few finer soldiers. Courageous, skilled, strong and utterly without imagination which meant that he was able to withstand the assaults of the Cult of the First Born in the North. He had led the rescue party that had salvaged more than one situation from the brink of disaster.

But no, I don't like him.

"Why don't you see to it that our baggage gets up to the castle." Sam went on. "I will join you there presently."

Kristoff recognised that for the order that it was and demanded some porters to help him before he stomped off.

I had recovered from my little episode then and climbed to my feet as the two of us watched him go.

"Not for nothing Sam, but if there ever really is a duel between that man and Sir Rickard..."

"I know."

"Rickard is going to kick his ass."

"I know." Sam said again before sighing. "Rickard has a level of violence in him that Kristoff is lacking. I even think that that is part of what is making Kristoff so angry and bitter. He knows it about Rickard as well. He knows that Rickard is the better soldier, the better fighter and the better leader and it makes him angry and bitter. There is no way that, if their situations had been reversed, there is no way that Kristoff would have been able to bring you and Kerrass out of the North. And he knows it. Not that he would ever admit that."

He sighed again and I realised just how tired my brother was. "But I need him Freddie."

"Well," I protested, "I don't think you do."

"I would not have come so far without him and I owe him that much."

"What do you owe him Sam?" It seemed that my brother wasn't going to elaborate on it any further unless I prompted him a bit.

"He is my man. My man. Not someone elses. Look, is there somewhere we can talk, before we get up tot he castle and I have to start fighting with Emma."

"You don't have to do anything."

"No I don't, but I will. I can't seem to get anywhere near her at the moment without the two of us trying to cut each other. I love her. She's my sister but at the moment, all she seems to want to do is to make me bleed. And I would admit that the same is also true from me. I feel the same. God, but it's awful."

"What happened Sam?"

"No-one ever told me how much we are hated."

"What?"

"Freddie, the campaign against the cult was awful. Not because of what we were up against but that was awful in and of itself. The things we found that they had been up to. The cave system that you gave us the details to find was not the only complex of that kind that they had. Not by a long stretch. It turned out that they were far more wide-spread than we had thought possible. We were interrogating prisoners and every time we thought we had come to the last of them, there would be some riders seen on a ridge line as though they were taunting us."

He shook his head. "Seriously though, this is a longer story of what my life has been like over the last year or so. While you were going off and risking your life against ghost ships and angry villagers who want to kill unicorns, there was other stuff going on."

"I'm sorry Sam. I had to go. I had to leave. I couldn't have stayed in that place. Not for a moment longer."

Sam gazed at me for a long moment. We were walking now. After Sam had asked to go somewhere so that the two of us could speak, we had taken a path down into Beauclair to see if I could find us a bottle or two to share.

"I know Freddie. I really do... But I wanted you to stay. I needed you and I'm not going to lie. There was a time there when I was really angry at you for that." He sighed. "And I wasn't the only one. I rather think that Kristoff kind of wants to duel you as well. And Kerrass for that matter."

"That would be an even more ugly fight than between him and Rickard."

Sam snickered at that and I felt myself reassured. My brother was still there but a silence had fallen over him and I looked for a way to break it.

"What happened Sam?"

"I was furious with you for leaving before I could talk to you again. I wanted you to be there. I wanted you to see it when we finally managed to get rid of them all. It was supposed to be our victory. You and me. We were supposed to defeat them. You started it and I was going to finish it. But instead, it was almost done despite me."

He laughed suddenly and bitterly. "We did all the work. You and I. I will admit that you did more than I did. But at the same time it was you and I that found the problem and it was you that brought enough word of quite the scale of the problem that meant that we could deal with it properly. As well as the intelligence about where the problem could be found. So there was no way that we could do it by ourselves. No way. We would be accused of war mongering for a start if I built up some forces and went off to destroy the cult. Also, if I did that, I would have ended up being out maneauvered. I would never get enough people together to properly oust the cult and even if I took down another couple of the Lords that were involved in it all. The crown would have interfered in what would have been perceived as my ambitions."

"And the cult would have gotten away."

"And the cult would have gotten away." He agreed. "So we called for help. And I had no idea, no idea at all, just how hated the Coulthard family is in the continent until people started to show up to help. No idea."

We came into Beauclair properly and I took him to one of my favourite little watering holes. It was a place near the river. It had two floors with a downstairs that is much larger for listening to music and dancing and the like. There is an indoor area upstairs for if you want to drink in some silence, or share the place with other people. The kind of place where you would take a parent for a meal out. Then there was a terrace out in the open air, backing onto the river. It was a beautiful place, flowers lining the trestles with creeping vines carrying the multi-coloured flowers blooming along them.

The place is often used for card tournaments in the summer where people come from miles around to take part. It was here that the newish Skellige deck was formally introduced to the tournament scene and although some tournaments still ban the deck, it was here that it first gained official recognition. A fact that is commemorated by a small brass plate that is nailed to the wall. The proprieter is a lady well known for her somewhat sharp sense of humour and skill with choosing the foods of her trade. The place specialises in cheeses and although not all of them were to my taste, indeed some even made me flee for the garderobe on more than one occasion, many are indeed delicious.

All around that veranda there were bowls and baskets of fire that were well attended and maintained but it meant that the two of us could have something to eat and drink while we talked and enjoyed the... almost magical open air feeling of Toussaint.

I had found the place the last time that we were in Toussaint. In that period of time after I had spoken to Jack in that strange dream scape and we were waiting for the search of Toussaint to be concluded. It was one of the places that I found that would serve me where I wouldn't get bothered by passing well wishers. The owner and propieter insists on peace and quiet and if her guests want to be left alone then they damn well get to be left alone. She spends a not small amount of money for some burly men to stand in the doorway and ensure the matter and there are always knights or other armed people that are willing to go to the aid of a distressed customer when they are being bothered. Often because they had gone to the place for the same reason.

We ordered a bottle of wine, a pair of cups and sat close to one of the fires.

"So how are you Freddie?" He asked as he poured us a drink. "I had heard you were sick but that seemed like something else up there by the gate."

"I am sick Sam." I sighed and scratched my head while I considered how fragile I was and whether I could bear to have this conversation here and now or whether I would be better off pleading to delay. Sam wanted to talk though and if it would help get the conversation started by my admitting to my weaknesses then so be it.

"No one can seem to agree a name for what's happening." I told him. "Some people are calling it Helmet Shock as though I've been struck in the head. Others are saying that it's my Nervous System that has been shattered. Others are saying fatigue. Words like "Aftershock" and "Cowardice" are used in my presence. Are any of those true? I have no idea."

Gratifyingly, he had smirked when I had said Cowardice.

"I know that it isn't a head injury." I said. "But that is the closest that I can think of. You know how people get hit in the head and then they seem fine for a while before they suddenly have a spasm of some kind, before dying months, if not years later and no-one can figure out why. Or they might have a series of spasms and the only thing that anyone can think of is that they got struck in the head."

He nodded to show that he was following.

"It's nothing like that." I quipped and he laughed. "But that's the closest thing that anyone else can seem to think it is like and I am finding that it is far easier to tell people that I have had a head injury than it is to try and explain what is actually going on."

He nodded. "What do the real people think? People who know what they're talking about I mean. Ariadne and the rest."

"Ariadne says that we don't really have a term for it yet." I smirked. "But she says that what is basically going on is that I've been through too much this year. Done too much, seen too much and suffered too much."

Sam sighed and grimaced unhappily. "I hate to say it Freddie, but I can believe it. You were always the most sensitive of us. It doesn't surprise me that you've been kicked in the balls by all of this. Fuck, it's a surprise that you're still as sane as you are."

"Ariadne pretty much said the same thing. Those first few years of travelling with Kerrass were pretty intense. What happened in Amber's Crossing with the thing that lived in those woods. The poisoning in Angral that, apparently, nearly killed me. That would have killed me if not for some magical healing."

"I thought the spider bites cured you."

"I thought so too. But Spider venom is still spider venom. It neautralised the deadly part of the poison but it still poisoned me. The entire thing damaged my innards and I wouldn't have lived to see another year had that Priestess and Ariadne done things to ensure my survival."

"But even so." Sam answered. "Getting that close to death can do things to a man."

"They can. So those few years were quite bad. But this last year has... Well it's not been great."

"I've read your diaries Freddie."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I don't really look very good in them."

"I was really angry with you at the time that I wrote them. I was really angry with you when it all happened as well."

He sighed. "Not without reason I fear. But you were saying."

I swallowed. We had skirted close to dangerous territory there and Sam had pulled us back. Deliberately I think.

"So over the course of this year. I have gone through all the stuff in Toussaint with Francesca going missing, the chase, the failures and the hallucinations."

"You were injured then too Freddie. Not by much but you were."

"Yes I was." I rubbed my chest. "But then I went off and was tortured by a group of church nights who, in theory, followed a religion that I am part of and love. I still worship the Eternal Fire but I can't help but notice that an increasing number of assholes who want to make my life difficult belong to that same religion."

Sam laughed as though I was making a joke. Which I was I suppose, but at the same time I wasn't.

"Then I get accused of murder, threatened with hanging and all kinds of horror. Then I head north where I get poisoned."

"Again." Sam pointed out.

"I get bled as well, before being sent out into the wild. I over exert myself, I suffer the beginnings of malnutrition, dehydration as well as all the symptoms of blood loss and then I head into proper exhuastion territory. Then I travel overland, get poisoned again, Fight in a battle, swim through a swamp and am subject to strange supernatural forces."

I shook my head. In the back of my head I could hear the screams of the dying on that hill in Northern Redania. Just for a heart-beat. Less than that even. But I heard it.

"So I got sick." I carefully didn't mention being forced out of a castle by my brother's politics so instead of getting better in a warm, clean environment, I was forced to do so on a forest floor. "Then I go to Skellige. I get sick again because, as it turns out, you don't just recover from all that sickness, poison and torture. You need to take the time to rest and recover which can take months."

"If ever."

"If ever. Yes. So then I go to Skellige. I go through abnormal magical cold to the point that I suffer Frostbite. I'm actually down a couple of toes."

"What's it like? Missing toes I mean."

"It's weird. I can still feel them itching. But then I forget that I've lost them and get shocked when I take my boots off."

We laughed. Because it's funny. But it's also true.

"A lot happened in Skellige." I said when we calmed again. "I was confronted with some parts of my nature that frighten me. I should have stopped following this road then. Fuck, I should have stopped this ages ago. I should have gone home after the Cult stuff, or even after Francesca vanished. But I definitely should have stopped after Skellige. I do not like some of the things that I did there Sammy. I killed a lot of people."

"Who were trying to kill you Freddie."

"That doesn't make it any better."

"It never does."

"I made more friends in Skellige than I have at any other part of my travels. I should have stopped there. But I was too stubborn. I kept going didn't I and then... it all fell apart. Body and brain can't take any more."

Sam nodded and called to a server for another bottle.

"It happens Freddie. I've seen it before in the army. When men just can't see or do or take any more. Brave men shake at the prospect of drawing a sword for training. Men who have medals for valour can't butcher a pig. Who drop what they're doing and just scream."

He sighed and shook his head. "It's not anything to be ashamed of Freddie."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"Yeah I do." I blew out a breath. "I know it even when people who remind me of Kristoff are there telling me that we should have done better on our way South. When people who are like Father or Sir Robart or any number of childhood bullies or even teenaged bullies or bullies that I encounter even now, are telling me that what I am going through is Cowardice. When they say that I should have done better. That they would have taken that axe of Cavill the younger and split his head with it. Or that I could have done more, saved more people and... A man, just the other night told me that I was weak for talking about these things. For trying to say that they were alright. He told me that if he had been in the North then not only would he have made it south without the help of the Elves, but that he would have killed those Elves for the vermin that they are."

Sam said nothing.

"Six months ago, I would have killed him for that. I would have dragged him outside by his ear, demanded that someone gave him a sword and then I would have skewered the bastard. But instead, you know what I did?"

Sam said nothing.

"I fucking burst into tears didn't I. Instead of getting angry, instead of feeling that energy and that drive, I feel the trembling in my fingers, I taste something bitter and metallic in the back of my throat. I start sweating and shaking and I burst into tears."

Sam still said nothing.

I looked out over the frozen river. There were a group of children skating on it, slipping about and sliding. They were playing some kind of game with sticks where they were using the sticks to hit a ball or a rock of some kind around the ice. To my eyes there seemed to be rules and borders and an etiquette to it but for the life of me I couldn't say what it was.

"I know it's nothing to be ashamed of but nearly everyone else disagrees with me. There are exceptions. Lord Palmerin de Launfall is one, Kerrass, Ariadne, Laurelen too I think. Mark sees it and is compassionate about it but I don't think he understands it. Not really. Emma literally stormed into my room in order to tell me to pull myself together and sort myself out, before I proceed to just go off on one at her. My nurse almost had to bodily set her aside while she sorted me out. She goes through the motions and things but she doesn't understand it. Not really. And she's just as much a product of father's conditioning on this subject as we are."

I snorted.

"Pull yourself together." I snarled with as much derision as I could muster. "Man up. Sort yourself out."

"Oh Flame but he's crying now." Sam quoted and I nodded. His impression of Dad was always better than mine.

Silence fell for a while. One of the servers brought another bottle and set it down next to a jug of water which Sam used to pour ourselves some drinks.

"I know it's nothing to be ashamed of." I told him finally. "I know it. People I respect, admire and even Love tell me that it's nothing to be ashamed of. They tell me that it's a product of my body dealing with everything that I have seen and done over the course of the last year. That it's involuntary. That there's nothing I could do about it. That it's the way that the Flame, or whoever you believe in that is responsible for our bodily construction, made us. That this is the way it is. So I know that it's nothing to be ashamed of. I do, I know it."

My gaze had sunk to the table and I was tracing patterns in the wooden tabletop with my finger.

"But you are ashamed nonetheless." Sam said softly.

I nodded as the tears finally fell. "Flame curse me for a fool." I snarled as I wiped the water from my eyes with the back of my sleeve.

"You're not a fool Freddie. Not a fool." He sighed. "It seems redundant to say that you have done extraordinary things. But you have. It would be extraordinary for anyone to do those things. People are angry with you because you did them and they did not. So they seek to belittle you for doing the thing that they feel ashamed for not doing." He sighed again. "I can relate to that." He admitted.

There was another pause. The noise of the children playing on the ice drifted up to us. It would appear that someone had scored a point or something.

"I am sorry for what happened at the castle." Sam told me. "You were right. What happened to those Elves was shameful and they way we treated them was also shameful. But we... But I could do nothing other than what I did."

It was my turn to say nothing.

"I have gone over those few moments in my head. Of the two of us yelling. Of Kristoff shouting. The threat of violence, of you, Kerrass, Ariadne and Rickard. Heroes all, standing between my men and the men of various churches. Standing between a group of ragged Elves and the men that were angry at them. I have thought about it and dreamt about it and thought about it again. I've argued with Emma about it and I've yelled at Kristoff about it as well as other men that you haven't met and I am certain, more certain than I am entirely comfortable with, that there was nothing else I could have done. There was no other way round it."

A dozen responses leapt to my mind and I had to swallow all of them.

"In fact." Sam went on. "Even if I knew how much of a wedge it would drive between you and I, even though you are the member of the family that I feel closest to. Even if I knew about all of the negative... response that I have received. I would still have been forced to do exactly the same thing. I didn't have a choice."

I had to swallow my words again and focus on remaining calm.

"And I know," Sam went on. "I know that you want to yell at me. I know you want to all but scream at me that I had a choice. That it was, and is, my castle and that I can do whatever the hell I damn well like. I have read your account of those events over and over and over again. But this is my turn to tell you that you simply don't get it. Neither you, Emma, Mark, none of you understand what is happening out there in the world because all of you are protected from it.

"You are protected by your fame, influence, who and what your fiancee is and the fact that people often don't know where you are until after you publish your accounts of what you've done. Emma is protected by a vast merchantile network, the influence that brings and the sheer mountains of money that she has at her disposal. Mark is a Cardinal of what is, currently, still the most powerful religious organisation of the North. And I? Little Baron Kalayn in his little patch of land in North Eastern Redania.

"Baron Kalayn with his lands riddle with Heresy. His family history of heresy and abuse. Little Baron Kalayn, not clever enough to be part of the merchant family. Not clever enough to join the church or go to University like his brothers. Not charming enough to go to court like his little sister. Not strong enough, not good enough to stay in the army or make a name for himself with the strength of his sword arm. Coasting to success on the coat tails of his father and the skirts of his sister.

"I have none of the protections that are offered to you or the rest."

I very nearly told him that he should ask for help. It is the fallacy of those that aren't being bullied. People ask the child, "Why don't you ask for help against the bully?" and the child says. "Because that will make it worse?" And that is the truth. I wanted to tell Sam to ask Emma for help. Ask Mark, fuck, ask me if I can do anything. But Sam wouldn't. Of course he wouldn't. Because then he would make the problem worse.

So instead, I said nothing.

"I had no idea how much everyone hates us." Sam said after a while. He was resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his hands together, staring off to the side without actually being able to see anything.

"We spent years being educated by Father. When he used to tell us that we would be the first in a new breed of Redanian noble. Where people would learn to look up to us. To emulate us. To want to be us. He told us about how he and his father and his Grandfather had fought and bled and sweated to bring our family out of the gutter. He taught us to believe that we deserved it, and we do, don't get me wrong. He told us that we would be hated by the people around us for being different. For not being descended from the older noble families and that we would have to work that bit harder. Fight that bit harder in order to make our way in the world. Do you remember that?"

"I remember."

"And I remember taking pride in that. I remember taking pride in the fact that our family had built itself up from nothing. I remember swearing to myself that I was going to carve out a position in the army. That I would fight in the guard and make a name for myself."

He shook his head.

"Well we all took our lessons from that didn't we. We learned the lesson that he wanted us to learn. A little too well if you ask me when I'm dealing with Emma sometimes. But then we wondered why Father was so angry all the time. Why he was so bitter and frustrated. Why he would drive us to be better and stronger."

He shook his head and looked me in the eyes for the first time in a while.

"I'm going to share something with you Freddie. This is a horrible thing and I'm a little ashamed of it. But you are the only person that I think I can discuss this with. And I know, I know that this conversation is almost certainly going to end up going into one of your journals. I know it and I'm ok with it."

I nodded my acknowledgement of that.

Sam took a couple of attempts to talk about it though. It took him a couple of tries to get the words out.

"I... uhhhh... I've been... I find that I've been having some sympathy for Edmund recently."

I said nothing. I was getting really good at it by this stage.

"It goes with this theory that I've been getting recently as I start to see how the rest of the world views us. I've started to think that Father was not trying to raise children. I think he was trying to forge weapons. I think he was trying to make us all into extensions of himself.

"Some of us were luckier than others. Mark, Emma, Francesca... me. We all fit into our roles the way that we were supposed to. Mark was the one to go to the church. He was interested and talented for it but you notice that after he did that, father all but ignored him. That was his duty done. Emma was the favourite I think. Dad's only dissappointment was that Emma was a girl. But Emma is the closest out of all of us to Dad's own character."

"I think you might be a little harsh on Emma there."

"Am I? Don't get me wrong, I love Emma but when she gets going in one direction. When she gets an idea in her head, there is absolutely no way that you can get her out of it. And woe betide anyone that gets in her way. Believe me, I know.

"I was built for purpose. A soldier born. But once again, other than attending my tournaments and casting a gaze over my training. Father didn't care about martial prowess and he all but ignored me, occasionally getting frustrated with me when I wasn't as good at letters which meant that I wouldn't get as high in rank as he wanted. I was the very least of what he needed. So he could tell his peers that he had sacrificed. That his son was fighting for Redania.

"Same with Mark. That one of his sons was fighting to save everyone's souls. Francesca was a born courtier. She was also exactly what Father wanted her to be and she even went over and above even the best that father could have hoped for. She was supposed to be a marriagable girl in order to attract some princeling, preferably by looks and charm but if not, the kind of dowry that father could offer. So that the Coulthard family could get more and greater connections. All perfect tools, absolutely fit for purpose."

"But Edmund. And you, but we're not talking about you yet. But he failed with the two of you. He didn't get what he wanted. Edmund was supposed to be Father's clone. He was supposed to be interested in the land and the people on the land and the things that father was doing with the land. He was supposed to be what Emma became. But he wasn't was he. And father got so angry with that that he tried to force the issue. Tried to force Edmund into being something that he wasn't. Whereas if Edmund had been allowed to channel his energy and his restlessness into my role in the family? You remember how good a swordsman he was? Even if he did use it to bully and murder people." Sam shrugged. "Is there any wonder that it all went wrong."

"So what was I supposed to be?"

"I suspect that you were supposed to be a girl."

I laughed. I couldn't help it and even Sam grinned a little bit before he continued.

"I think you were supposed to be a girl. I think you were supposed to be what Francesca eventually became." He laughed. "You succeeded too. Just not in the way that Father wanted. You bloomed when you started to get out from his shadow and his influence. But I remember him berating you after you got back from the... whichever time that you got rejected by that girl in the place."

"I remember."

"And I remember thinking that he was being really harsh although I couldn't have told you why. And I don't think that it was your fault. Leaving aside all of the facts that, back then, you had not grown into yourself yet. You didn't have the confidence, the charm, wit and grace that you have now."

"You're making me blush." The conversation was getting lighter and I wanted to encourage the trend.

"I'll kiss you later." Sam seemed to agree. "But now, looking back, I know something that I didn't know back then. You never stood a chance Freddie. There was no way, even if you were twice as charming, twice as clever and had all of the benefits that you have now. You would never have attracted a bride. Never. Because there is no way. No way on this continent. That any woman that father sent you to court, would ever be allowed to marry you. Because their fathers hated ours.

"Father had almost systematically alienated, insulted and belittled every noble family in Redania and Temeria. Some in Aedirn too from what I hear. So even if you charmed the girl, you weren't going to get married and that wasn't your fault. It was father's. But he blamed you for it. He should only have counted himself lucky that you turned into you and not another Edmund."

"He would not have let me get away with the stuff that Edmund did. Edmund was the Eldest son and therefore charmed. I will admit that I was not as cut off as I used to think I was. But I was still pretty cut off."

Sam grunted his understanding of this. "But I'm getting off the point. Until I was named Baron Kalayn, my knowledge of how much the rest of the continent hated us was an intellectual thing. I knew they hated us but I didn't understand it. I didn't feel it."

He sighed again.

"Well I fucking do now. They hate us Freddie. They hate us a lot and I'm beginning to see how that happened, why and, fuck, there are even some times where I think we deserve to be hated."

I got the sense of a boil that has just been lanced. That feeling that the first explosion of pain had begun but now the entire thing needs to be squeezed to get all the poison out. It was going to be a process. Long, drawn out and painful, but once it starts, it cannot be stopped.

"Grandfather and father have done extraordinary things. They did amazing things. Things that they can and should have been proud of. But we need to be honest here and now. You and me, with each other. To climb so high, they had to do so by standing on the necks of other people. In order to get as high as they have, they had to climb over business parties, take advantage of people and otherwise be shit to the people that they come across. As I say, they were even using their own children to further their goals. I shudder to think what Father's childhood must have been like.

"Now to the common folk, the people working on their fields and things, that was good. They saw one of their own climbing to unimaginable heights, unthought of, impossible heights. They saw Grandfather confounding, confusing and defeating those merchants that had been screwing them out of the proper price for their wool, tanned hides, beef and wheat for years. Then Grandfather beat them at their own game. Yes he still fucked them over on prices and things but he didn't fuck them quite as hard. And he was one of them. So he didn't resent him for that as much.

"So Father took up that attitude and used it and the lessons that he had learnt from Grandfather and took it up against the other members of the nobility. He bought out their concerns, he undercut their contracts and he learnt from their mistakes. And then he rubbed it in their faces. He had to. He had to be the baddest bastard on the face of the world. But all those knights, nobles, diplomats and churchmen that he fucked over in order to get where he got to in his life, they remembered.

"He got away with it because he was fucking over the hated nobles. The twisty diplomats and beaurocrats. He confounded the churchmen and when the knights got uppity about how much power he was accumulating he looked at their armour and their weapons and said "That armour was made in my forges by my smiths. It was bought using a loan that I partially financed and it was carried to you on my wagons. So I am forclosing on the loan which means that I want my armour and weapons back please."

"But he didn't stop there. When the knight backed down, father would carry on. He would tell those uppity people that they were working on his lands. That his wagons got food to his common folk. That Coulthard trading provided the stone, timber and other goods that were needed to build this that and the other thing and all of that could stop. Here and now. It could stop and then, the very real threat was, that Father would offer everything that he had offered those people to the competition. He was the Merchant Baron and what that meant was, that he was for sale.

"And the commonfolk cheered him on. But he was becoming powerful. I've spoken to men that said that if Nilfgaard hadn't invaded for that third time then Radovid would have had to destroy us. That he would have turned up outside Coulthard castle with an army and that we would have been destroyed. Because, unlike just about every other noble at court, Father's wealth and influence was not defined by location and proximity.

If he was exiled then he would still make money and the King would have sent that power and wealth that father commanded, into the pocket of the competition. If he had fined Father, then Father would laugh at him and pay the fine as well as a lot more. If he levied extra taxes then the other nobles would get worried because what could be done to Coulthard family could be done to them. I'm even told that Radovid tried that and the council of Lords shouted him down. And then Father paid it anyway. But Father was becoming a power and if Radovid had survived the war then we would have been dragged out in chains to greet the noose, or worse."

I said nothing. But this time, I said nothing because I had nothing to say.

Sam continued to stare out over the river while we both waited for the next thought to cross his mind. For the next torrent of sentences to spill forth.

We didn't have to wait long.

"We had no chance at all." He said after a while. "Father always taught us that it was us against them. That the entire world was out to get us so that they only people that we could realistically depend on was wach other and the people that worked for us. But only each other really. But what he never added was tha the reason that it was against them was because he, and his father, turned them against us."

"If he hadn't. We wouldn't have had the advantages that come to us."

"No we wouldn't. But I am sitting here opposite you now Freddie and I am wondering. Would that have been a bad thing?"

"If we didn't have those advantages, then there is the possibility that we wouldn't be here Sam. Literally. Father would not have been able to marry mother because it was his money that meant that he was even remotely close to being accepted in that way."

"Oh believe me Freddie. I know that there's a difference between dying and never being born. And as I sit there in the North, in a command tent, in someone's hall or even in my own hall and I see the naked hate being levelled at me, being levelled at us and I am not sure that it would be a bad thing."

"You're being a bit harsh to Dad there Sam." I told him. "Don't get me wrong, there are still some times where I hate the fucker as well. But he was made the way that he was by his own father as well. I don't really remember Grandad. If I ever knew him at all. But being the child of a self-made man cannot have been fun. I mean, where else would Dad learn how to be a Father if it wasn't from his own father. I notice that we never hear of any Aunts and Uncles on Father's side of the family."

"No. And that's true. And I will agree that he, and we, are the products of what all that made us. But we have continued his legacy. We have kept going with it. We are even more hated now than he ever was and that hatred is only getting worse. The name of Coulthard is snarled at, spat and pissed on. People hate us Freddie. They hate us. They want to hurt us just to watch us bleed."

There were tears in his voice then. A rasp that I hadn't heard in his voice since I had struggled to teach him how to properly form the letter "u" with a pen.

He must have heard it too because he laughed at himself.

"Honestly, I'm this close, just this close to telling Mark to do what Emma wants him to do and to pass the title down to you. I will be happy being Baron Kalayn in my relatively small patch of North Eastern Redania and leave you to all the nonsense and horror."

"Flame, don't give it to me." I shuddered as theatrically as I could. "I don't want it. What would I do with it?"

"Which is exactly the same as how I feel." He replied. "Where do we go from here except to get bigger and bigger until we might as well be a nation in and of ourselves. I've read your journals and Emma is right. We can't do anything other than to keep doing what we're doing. If we are going to preserve what we have then we need to keep growing and keep on keeping others down. The hatred of others will only get worse towards us and I don't know if I can live with that."

"Sam, you can change that." I told him. "I'm going to be off in Angral. Ariadne's well established there. We don't offer anything that Coulthard lands don't already do and better so we're not exactly going to be a vital part of the company. When you're in charge you can do that."

He shook his head. "The damage is already done Freddie. I can't fix it, I'm part of the problem. We..." he gestured at the two of us, "are part of the problem. We're looking up at the hole and wondering how we got down here, despite the fact that we dug that hole for ourselves."

"I gotta admit Sam, I don't really see how we got ourselves down in this hole."

"Don't you? You are one of the major parts of the family that dug it. It was your journals that got Francesca into the Empress' presence. It was your journals that started to make us all famous. We are hated and we did this to ourselves."

"I just don't see it Sam."

He stared at me. "You can't see that we're hated or that you can't see why we're hated."

"I can see that we're hated. But I'll be honest..."

"It's that we have a habit, a recurring habit, that we like to show people how wrong and how stupid they are. We also follow that with rubbing our successes in their faces and when we've done with that. We will throw another thing at them where we show them just how wrong. Just how... entrenched they all are. We throw insult after insult after insult at them and sooner or later this is going to blow up in our faces. We are rushing headlong into the way of things, pushing, always pushing without seeing all of the consequences that we are sewing for ourselves. All the danger that we are putting into our future.

"We are like the proverbial Bulls in the glassware shop. Mark goes from a fairly standard priest. The kind that you can find in churches and halls all over the continent. And then he gains prominence. And you can't tell me that the reason that he gained prominence is because of his growing fame and the families growing coffers. The church is just as much of a money driven organisation as anyone. And they wanted the influence and the money that the Coulthard family offers. You can't tell me that that isn't the case Freddie. You just can't. And I notice that his promotions didn't happen until he became Baron Coulthard and that you made him famous with your travel journals.

"Emma is head of, now, the biggest merchant company in the North. There's no-one to touch her. And she is ruthless with it. She will say that she has to be. You would say that in order to defend her. And you would be right. But think about some of her actions and the way that they will upset and infuriate people. She's openly gay. She was outed in Oxenfurt by the actions of de Radford and the demands of the watch. So they did that and so it was pointless to try and hide it. So you were right in making that public because, if you're going to be untradtional or eccentric then you need to jump in with both feet. But do you have any idea how many people she upsets just be being who she is?"

I gave him the answer that he wanted and shook my head.

"Neither do I. But it's a lot. So many people being angry because every day, she shows the world and all of the misogynists in it that women can be just as powerful and stong as the men that they go up against. She shows their wives and their daughters that men are not really needed and that terrifies them.

"But that's not all she's done. She's forged alliances with powerful people. She's on first name terms with the Empress. I understand that the Empress even intends to make her Imperial Chancellor of the Exchequer. A job for which she's eminently suited which is going to entail her telling even more stuffy old men what to do. That is not going to win her any friends."

"Other than the Empress."

"But that comes with it's own risks. It's easy to forget that we are a conquered people. Not everyone likes that and the fact that we are ruled over by a woman does not sit well everywhere. Not even in the majority of places. The Empress cannot protect Emma from a knife in the dark. And that was before Emma started to turn Oxenfurt docks into the Coulthard docks. Just how angry do you think that Novigrad is with us now? We have taken our business out of their docks. Thus depriving them of their taxes and tarrifs. Depriving the market sellers and shop keepers of Novigrad our goods. Instead they have to pay out to go to Oxenfurt."

"Oxenfurt likes us."

"But Oxenfurt doesn't have it's own religion, nor does it have, all but, it's own army. Nor is it as rich as Novigrad. If all the merchants and nobles of Novigrad put it's money together to hire a mercenary army to raze Oxenfurt to the ground. Then they could and the mercenaries wouldn't even notice that they've just rolled over Oxenfurt. Only to dissappear in the wind. Yes, Oxenfurt will love us. But not as much as you might think. We own the docks. So instead of having to pay a tax or a tarif to the city to use the docks. They have to pay us. So they're not the Oxenfurt docks any more. They're our docks. That sort of thing does not exactly inspire friendship and love Freddie. In fact it inspires the opposite."

There was an answer to all of this growing in my head, a response, an argument against it all. But I really did think that there was a lot of this stuff that Sam needed to get this off his chest. So I meant to let him.

"And then there is you." He said. You, who have made us famous in circles other than our own. Our own personal little propaganda machine. You travel the world and you elevate those people who society have kept down. You put down those that society has lifted up. You outed Emma and Laurelen for the world to see. It has to be said that if you had outed my secret lover in such a way then I would have fucking strangled you. But you also, somehow, made it acceptable.

"You overturned years, a century even of stable Southern Territories by freeing Sleeping Beauty. You interfered in the civil war in Angraal. A place that no-one, including me, had ever heard of until you started writing about it. So suddenly it's not the other parts of the Pontar delta that have the fame and fortune. People know about Flotsam and Angren and places but they think of those as lesser. The one a jungle swampland pitted with corruption and urban decay. And the other a site of a haunted battlefied and the rumoured site of a royal lynching.

"It's Angral that is the central spot of the Pontar delta now. It is them that are seeing appropriate growth and it is you that has done that.

"Over and over again. Every time you publish something in that magazine of yours you upset people. You attack the status quo. You protected the Elves and belittled those people that tried to lessen them. I can go on and on and on."

"Ok." I said, putting my hand up to stop the flow. I will admit that I had wanted to wait a bit longer before interrupting but it's much harder to hear about your own faults than it is to hear about the faults of other people.

"Ok. All of that is true. And I will admit that I have a tendency to speak first and worry about consequences later which means that I also have a tendency to write first and ask questions later. But here is my counter to all of those arguments. Are you ready?"

"You're going to say that we're right aren't you." Sam sighed, deflated.

"I am. All of the examples that you have given me are examples where we did the right thing. All of us. Even you and I noticed that you haven't talked about yourself in listing the family's faults yet."

"Oh, I'm the worst of all of us." He snarled, a little bitterly. "Like Edmund. Not clever enough, charming enough or... anything else to make my own way. Being pulled along on the coat-tails of Emma, you, Mark and Francesca. I got named Baron Kalayn by fluke."

"Which you inherited legally."

"So we say. And so the Empress' courts say. But not according to general people. I'm just saying what others are thinking here."

"Ok, carry on with the way people talk about us then."

"I got in the army with Father's money rather than my own talent. It was you that found and rooted out all the heresy, not me. Both in the North and around Oxenfurt. It was Francesca that got us an in to the imperial Court and earned us the ear of the Empress. It was Emma that grew the business. I did none of those things. What did I do? I prevented the Elves from getting the help that they needed. That they deserved."

"You're being unfair on yourself Sam. Or they are... Whichever. You fought in a war. I did not. Neither did anyone else in the family. You fought in a war. I served, so did Mark in the way that the church did. But you fought and I know the argument that you yourself have made that the loss was down to other people. But that is the point. You fought the Empire to a standstill. You and the people like you. You forced the Emperor to the negotiating table.

"And if we're talking about the cult issues. If you had not led us into the North in the first place. Then what people are calling the greatest heresy that the North has seen since the, incorrect, worship of the Lionhead broke out, would not have been destroyed. You led us there. I did not. You could have stayed in Novigrad, around Oxenfurt or wherever the fuck and just collected the rents from your lands to set yourself up. But you didn't. You led us all North, you put those spirits to rest and you rooted out the evil that was found.

"I could not have done what I did without someone stable to get back to. I might have done everything that I did but if I had made it back to a weaker base then everything could have been brushed under some rug because no-one wants to admit that there was widespread heresy amongst the nobles in the North. You brought that to everyone's attention. I might have made it famous. But you did that. You organised the defense of your lands and your people. Not me... and fucking definitely not Kristoff.

"You have done great things as well Sam. Great things. So don't let anyone try and tell you that what you have done is small or that what we, as a family have done is wrong."

"I'm not as good at arguing that Freddie. You and Mark are the debaters and the arguers. Emma is the clever one. If Father had summoned me before his seat to tell me that everything I believed was wrong. That I would do something else that I didn't want to do. That I must change myself in order to attract women that had no insterest in me."

"All the things that he did to me you mean."

"Yeah. Precisely. If he had done all of that to me. I would have believed that he was right. I would have done that work. I would have changed myself and studied what he told me to study and when I failed, which I would have done..."

"Same as what I would have done."

"Yeah. When I failed, I would have seen that as a failure of myself because that is what Father would have told me. There was no room in me to see different. When I am sat here with you and you explain it to me. You explain that the Elves led by Chireadean deserve plaudits, land, money and everything that we can give them. I agree. Wholeheartedly. When you point out that what Mark is preaching is actually the most tradiitonal form of the teachings of the Eternal Fire. I can see that. I really can. I know that the admonitions against female debauchery and anti-magic sentiments are recent additions to the sacred texts. I know that Emma is running a business and that she, that we, cannot defend ourselves from others with money unless we have money of our own.

"I know that the Novigrad dock system was corrupt and that the position there was untenable. I know that Robart de Radford is a petty little man that wants to destroy us in general and you in particular because you showed the world just how stupid, incompetent, petty and cowardly he is. I know all of these things. While I am sat here with you. But when I'm sat in a campaign tent in Northern Redania and I hear about all the people that we, as a family, have stomped on to get where we are? When people who I respect that are of a higher rank than me tell me that the Elves are scum and that they will not help me if I harbour the Elves, then what am I supposed to do?"

He shook his head.

"Did you know that de Radford has a sister?" he wondered.

"I did not, but, to be truthful. I didn't really care."

"And that, right there is why people hate us." He told me. "We don't care. We trample through lives, righting wrongs and fighting for agendas whether that's the return to the tradional by Mark or the advancing to the progressive in terms of you and your championing of non-humans and magical people. I agree, that both need to happen. For peace and for the general benefit of everyone. Both need to happen. But what we don't care about is the people that we hurt in the mean time.

"You don't care that the fact that your pointing out of de Radford's cowardice and corruption means that his sister, an otherwise nice lady by the way, has been ostracised by society. She is never going to get a suitor and as such, she is going to die alone and unloved."

"That's not my fault. Nothing would have happened if her brother hadn't..."

"But you didn't just defeat him. You jumped up and down on him. It's not just you either. Emma has destroyed numerous merchantile endeavours. Bankrupted numerous merchants. What about their families? Now that is competition, I agree. But then she jumps up and down on them to make sure that they never get back on to their feet. Mark with his rivals in the church and me..."

"You pointed out earlier that I didn't talk about my own faults or talk about the things that I have done to make these things worse and you are right. I did not. What did I do? I agreed with you. I didn't tell Emma to calm down a bit. I didn't tell Mark to just chill out a bit or call you out when you spout some of your more... biased writing. Because you are Freddie."

"Of course I am. No-one isn't. I am a historian and the first thing that you learn is that you cannot separate the person from the context. You cannot take away what I am saying or seeing from the measure that it has taken."

"But you don't care Freddie. You don't... You remember that knight that found you first on the mound. The one that you and Rickard, quite rightly, told that you weren't going to go with them. I know why you... and I definitely know why Rickard didn't permit you to go off with strangers. But he was just a young lad. Caught up in tales of glory. And then when he was rebuked by you he went back and you rebuked the churchmen that came up to support him. All of that was right. But then you named him, named the churchmen as well and then you humiliated them in print.

"You didn't need to do that Freddie. You didn't need to hold that... boy... up to ridicule and abuse by your readers. Did you know that he killed himself. He was recalled by his father and yelled at. He was a figure of ridicule by others, including the women that he was sent to court and at the end of the day, he could no longer take it and he killed himself. Did you know that?"

"I did not." I admitted.

"Would you care?"

"Fuck off Sam." I snarled. "Just fuck off. I'm not going to take the blame for that. I might deserve some of that but we can blame each other all day for the things that have gone wrong. All fucking day. He was brought up to be that way. He was taught to be that way. By his arrogant uncle or whoever the churchman was. He was taught to be that, by his parents and the noble institution that made him that way. He deserved knocking on his ass and learning some humility. And then, after that, I was not his parents, his friends or the women that he hoped to marry that berated, laughed at and humiliated him. I might have been the fist stone in the rockslide, but I did not pile the rocks so precariously. Nor did I keep pushing them down hill when any number of people could have stepped in to stop them. Including me. That is not my fault Sam and you know that. I interacted with him for less than an hour and he did nothing to tell me that he had any remorse, nor his family for that matter, indeed as I recall, they kept coming after Kerrass, Rickard and I."

We sat in uncomfortable silence for a while. One of the guards who keep peace in the place was watching the pair of us closely.

"I'm sorry Freddie." He said. "I didn't want to go off on you. I didn't even mean to. I've spent almost all the time in the field since you left, listening to people pick apart what the family has done. What we have done and what we are doing. Listening to people blame us. You said it yourself once, we can only listen to too much of that stuff before we start to believe it."

"Then you need to hang out with a better class of people Sam." I told him, swallowing my own anger. Now that it was leaving me I began to feel the first of the small shivers in my fingers and I took a deep drink.

"I don't have a choice." He said. "You live near Oxenfurt. Where Coulthard power is centralised. You are going to live in Angral where the people love you and your bride to be. I live in the North. Where our neighbours hate me. I need them. I need their trade and I need them not to raid me. That was what I was confronted with when you came back with the Elves. Churchmen that would have cast me out for helping the Elves. Nobles and military men who would have deserted me for supporting the Elven scourge."

"Raid them back." I told him.

"I can't. I have to be whiter than white. If I raid my neighbours then they will all unite against me and come to destroy me."

I nodded my acceptance. "You could ask for help Sam. Emma could hire mercenaries. Ciri could order decrees."

"I can't ask for their help Freddie. Emma hates me and... asking help from the Empress of Nilfgaard?" He shuddered. "I have to work at it, this is not a joke, I have to work at it not to think of you and Emma as a traitors for working with Nilfgaard and being friends with the Empress. I am a soldier."

"It's called using allies Sam. We're fighting for our survival. We're not just working for our views, we're fighting to survive."

"Why is it a fight. Why do you need to fight so hard?"

"Because we're under attack Sam. Someone came and took Francesca from us. We were attacked. We are still being attacked. You are being attacked by these neighbours that are trying to beat you down. I am being attacked... a little by you at the moment I feel..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

I waved him off.

"Mark is dying and his rivals are rubbing their hands together with glee at the prospect of his death so they can fight over his remains. People are coming after Emma even as she works to make people's lives better. Not perfectly I will agree. I am sick and people harrangue me every day for that perceived weakness and because I champion the cause of people who literally saved my life. Those Elves, Ariadne, Kerrass and more have saved my life Sam. How do you feel about those other soldiers who have saved your life Sam?"

"I would die for them."

"Precisely. So the least I could do is defend them from the people, like that young knight and his churchman uncle, who came to attack those Elves. To Defend Rickard and Kerrass from people like Kristoff who wanted them both hanged. If people come at us, we defend ourselves. That is what we are doing. I agree with you that we might need to be a bit more sensitive to the people that we have made enemies of. But I know that Emma has taken in a lot of the merchant companies that she has destroyed and offered the workers, and owners, jobs.

"Mark is preaching the Eternal Fire. The original, purest forms of those words. Over and over again, the people that are against him are the people that would burn Emma, my best friend, my fiancee and plenty of others that have saved me, at the stake."

Sam smirked. "I would like to see them burn Ariadne. That would be funny."

I did not laugh. "But that they would try. And all that anyone has to do to get a good write up from me is to not be an asshole. To not attack the people that I care about. And I have defended and elevated as many humans as I have non-humans. Helfdan is not Jarl because of me. He and his people did that for themselves."

"I guess..."

"Do you want to see me sort this out right now?" I growled. "Do you want to see me marshal all of the things that you rail against on your behalf. Do you wanna see what happens when you go back to Kalayn lands with the backing of the Lodge of Sorceresses, Toussaint trade, Skelligan mercenaries, Emma's support, Mark's support, you wanna see what happens when you stop fighting us and let us help you. You wanna see what happens to your lands when Elven fighters, sworn to you and trained by Rickard,start to patrol your woodland and keep your villagers safe? We are on your side Sam."

"Emma doesn't seem to agree."

"Because you are fighting her. I yelled at her about the same thing. I told at her to stop trying to order you around and instead to try and help you with what you want to achieve. You need to work together, not against each other."

"I suppose so."

"Sam. Whether you like it or not, you are going to be Lord Coulthard in a year's time. Eighteen months at most. At that time you're going to have to learn to work with her."

His eyes flashed. "When I'm Lord Coulthard, she will have to learn to work with me."

"It goes both ways Sam. Emma is indispensible in this case. You can't do it without her. No-one else holds it all in her head. She knows where everything is and knows how to make it all work with all the legal wrangling and the contracts that need to be honoured. Never forget that."

His eyes went thoughtful at that.

"So you need to get her on side." I went on. "I will help where I can and I have told her the same thing. You have an interesting perspective on what is happening and yes, alright, we need to hear some of these things. But we are not your enemy and we can help you. We have been fighting back since we lost Francesca and we need each other more than ever. It was made clear to me that Mark and Emma were terrified that they are losing me and I shiver to think how close I was to being lost. But it's true of you as well. We love you Sam. We can't lose you as well."

"I know." He said. "And I'm sorry. I've just... I see it all you know. I see the way we tend to treat people and I've had Emma turn that on me. When she thought you had been lost she was so angry with me that she cast me as the villain. I got a glimpse as to what it's like from the other side. I saw how frightening we are as a family."

"And we need that perspective Sam."

He nodded. Then he laughed.

"So how was Yule?"

We both laughed. "As an effort to change subjects, I've heard worse." I told him.

"I'm done Freddie. I need a holiday. You are right. Of course you are. We need to talk more. As a family we need to talk more and we need to have a gathering where we aren't all coming together for a funeral, or because one of us is sick, or missing or because we are honouring the dead or missing. We need a happy event."

"Hey man. I'm working on it. Got a wedding coming up."

He laughed at me. "I'm looking forward to it. I will even try to say something nice to that Empress of yours."

"She's your Empress too Sam."

"I know. But I spent a not small part of my life fighting against everything that she represents. Men in black armour with the golden sun on their chests killed a lot of friends of mine. And I know that they did so on the commands of her father and I know that she is not that person. I even know that she is from the North, but I can't forget holding my best friend as he died after his guts were pulled out of his stomach. You know? I'm going to struggle to think of her as a friend, let alone an adopted sister."

There was another uncomfortable silence, before he grinne at me. "But seriously though. How was Yule?"

I laughed at the memory.

"It was... It was the most Yule-like festival you could imagine. Ariadne pulled out all the stops to make her first Yule as part of the family as special as possible. But she also did so as an outsider. So she was going through the motions without entirely understanding them."

Sam laughed appreciatively.

"We did it as porperly as we could." I told him. "We had a large tree in the corner of the receiving area which Ariadne insisted that we decorate. We dressed up in costumes and gave each other gifts, all the while Ariadne was watching everything to make sure that we were all doing it properly out of the definitions of the festival that she had got out of a story book. She kept asking whether or not this was right or whether we were doing it wrong. We burnt the log and made plans for the following year which was a little poignant on the grounds that there was no certainty that Mark was going to be there the following year. But on the other hand, there was the promise that Ariadne and I were finally going to get married.

"There was one uncomfortable moment where Ariadne admitted that one of the things that she was really looking forward to was the fact that she and I finally get to sleep together. She said so in this really brutal and crude language that made Mark blush and Emma laugh. While also making me feel desperately uncomfortable."

Sam was laughing. "But also rather aroused right?"

"More than somewhat." I admitted. I was only hiding part of the truth from Sam. A truth which he now knows which is that Ariadne was actually distracting us all from the bleakness of the situation. Mark had just admitted that he probably wasn't going to be there this time next year and that even if he was, it was unlikely that he would be entirely aware as to what was going on. We had all stood around looking a little unhappy before Ariadne had punctured the seriousness of the situation by making crude jokes about our marital night.

"We also nearly had a fight over who was going to carve the roast ready for dineer." I went on. "Tradition says that it's the man of the house. But there isn't one. Ariadne refused and declared that I should do it. But I still work at thinking of myself as a guest. We aren't married yet and I deferred to Mark. Who said that he wasn't of the household. In the end, Kerrass did it. On the grounds that he was better with a knife than the rest of us put together."

"I bet he fucked it up." Mark was laughing at the image.

"On the contrary. He managed to carve the slimmest, thinest slices of roast that you or I have ever had the fortune to see. It was absurd. And he did it really quickly as well. With a speed that was more than a little intimidating.

"But we ate too much, we drank too much, we wore the silly hats and gave each other gifts."

"Sounds like fun."

"It wasn't all fun and games though." I told him. "We went to church in the morning at Ariadne's insistence. I suspect that that is a duty that I am not going to be getting away from ever again. As it's a thing in Angral that the Lord of the Manor goes to church on the morning of Yule. We also took parcels of food out to the villages and farmsteads on Ariadne's land. Spending a bit of time with all fo the major groups of houses. In all truth, it was actually a busy day."

"Good though?"

"It was. It was a good day and if that is the model for how it's all going to work moving forwards, then I am alright with that."

I took a deep breath.

"We missed you though." I told him.

"Yes. Well..." He shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I would just have been in the way. Emma and I would have..."

"Sorry Sam, no." I said it as gently as I could. "We love you and we missed you at Yule. Ariadne is a good woman and a good host and she would have seen to it that you had a good time. Emma also expressed a dissappointement that you couldn't be there and wanted you to be there with us. So did Mark. We missed you and we wanted you to be there. And even if Emma had tried to pick a fight or to talk about business with this and that then Ariadne woould have been furious with her. She was so focused on making sure that our first Yule as a family was as good as it could be that she would not have allowed work or arguments to come between us all. She just wouldn't have it. As it was... Heh."

I laughed at a memory. "Laurelen gave Emma a new diary. Beautiful thing it is. This huge, leatherbound volume with each day of the year broken down into a page with the opposite page having space for notes that come up for things to remember on this day or that. She'll show it to you later. Remember to look surprised and to make appreciative noises over it as it must have cost a fortune. But no sooner had Laurelen given it to her, along with a new set of Quills and an ink pot, that Emma was off and working in the new book. Ariadne snatched both out of her hands and hid them until the following day saying that there was no work to be done on Yule."

Sam shifted his weight a little as he enjoyed the story.

"I thought you were going to guilt trip me about it being Mark's last Yule."

"I was tempted." I told him. "But I thought that that would be a little over the top and beneath me. And Mark deserves better than to be used as a weapon to make you feel guilty. Do you feel guilty?"

"A little. It was a hard choice to make." He took a deep breath. "The north is very fragile at the moment. Adda, the Bitch-Queen-Regent, is making our lives hell. Playing us all of against each other for her own amusement."

"You wanna be careful about how you say that sort of thing."

"Oh, Adda knows what I think of her, what we all think of her. You want to give The Empress some advice to make her popular in the North. Tell her to sort Adda out and stop her from playing her little games. It would instantly secure The Empress' to us all. Instantly. Including mine. I would kiss her slippered feet after she had gone walking through a pig pen."

"Sounds a bit strong."

"Adda's bored. Bored, abused and more than a little mad. Years as a monster, followed by years of being spoiled within an inch of her life, followed by a year or two of relatively happy marriage before Radovid's new found piety and slow decent into madness meant that she was abused and all but imprisoned in a castle with some not very nice people. Don't get me wrong, she's had an awful life but that is no excuse for how she behaves now. She entertains herself by playing the Lords of Northern Redania, not Southern Redania and the people around the Pontar that the rest of the world cares about. But those of us in the North that are neither famous or fashionable. She amuses herself by putting one of us against the other with the promise of being taken into her bed. Of wedding bells which would turn is into the crown regent while we get to properly bring up that child of hers."

"I thought that Ciri had insisted that the Prince be properly educated and fostered elsewhere."

"She did and I am grateful for that. But the country still needs ruling. And with the destruction of all those heretics and their lands reverting to the state. The North of Redania has devolved into this, den of vipers as we all claw each other's eyes out to try and get a bit more for ourselves. Borders of lands are being redrawn on the maps as we speak. So I needed to be in the North to fight my cause."

He sighed.

"You are right. We are under attack and we must fight back whenever we can. I have to fight just to keep the land that I have, let alone anything else. I must play politics and be suitably pious all the time. I have to suck up to the Queen Regent and I have to use all of those sneaky underhanded tricks that I know we both hate to use and I'm just not as good as I should be. I've sat in on meetings where men try and carve up my lands so that their sons could get a bit more for themselves."

"Sam, I hate to say it. But everything you are telling me just proves how right I am about everything else. You wanna see those problems melt away. Let us help you. You don't even have to ask."

"I wanted to do this by myself Freddie. I wanted to have this one thing that no-one else could touch. To have this thing that the family didn't give me or that I could prove that I did it by myself."

"None of us... Sam, nothing that any of us have, is not given to us by the family. And there is no shame in asking for help."

"Not everyone agrees with you."

"And those people are wrong. And when they insult you then we fucking destroy them as well."

Mark said nothing to that.

"It is true that I also wanted to spend time with my people." He told me.

I nodded to show that I accepted his efforts to change the subject. "How are they doing?"

"They still set a watch." He told me. "There are still mists that come down off the mountain and when that happens, they flee indoors and no-one can ever find them. They still mark the faces of their children and they still wait for that day that the Hounds return."

He sighed, a little sadly. "The roads are properly patrolled now. We have helped them rebuild and we have done many many things in an effort to make them feel safe. But it just isn't helping. The fact that their medicine woman betrayed them still causes a lot of pain. They trusted her and she was selling them out. More than a few people took that hard and, unfortunately, it means that there is a renewed hatred for Elves in that area. And yes, before you complain, that is despite the Elves that ensure the destruction of the cult."

I grunted at that.

"A few things that you will be amused to hear about though. Father Trent still lives there. He took over that chapel that Father Gardan used to live in and the building has been expanded and rebuilt. He actively campaigns to turn Gardan into a Saint."

"I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that Sam. He fought for the good of things, but he did a lot of evil at the same time. He deserved better than what he got but sainthood? At this stage?"

"There is still a strong anti-non-human sentiment in the church around us. He will probably succeed. And although I can understand where you are coming from on that regard. It will do us good to have a saint on our soil. Trent tells me that there have been massive numbers of converts to the Eternal Fire, but that no-one comes to church."

I nodded. "So they're hedging their bets. Converting because they think that it will help them win favour with you."

"Yeah. I wish I knew what I could do to help them. So one of the things that I had to try was that I would spend a winter with them. I wouldn't rush off to court or to the centre of civilisation and therefore be running away from them. I would share their burdens and share their lives. Even if it was only for a little while."

"Did it work?"

"A little." He sighed and scratched his head. "It's going to take a long time. A long time. And I owe it to them to do everything that I can to help."

"Then let us help you." I told him. "For them as much as for anything. Offer some advice?"

"Sure." He sighed and shrugged.

"Hold a festival or something. Something to celebrate the destruction of the cult. Full works, have a massive party. Give them something to celebrate."

He nodded. "It's not a bad idea."

We chatted a bit about various things that he could do to help out in his lands. I offered ideas, some of which he had thought of, some of which he thought were good ideas and some needed some work. It was fun and went a long way to dismiss some of the shadows that had come over us. We brain-stormed some things for a while before he looked at the sky to see where the sun was and rose to his feet.

"Well, fun though this is and I thank you for it. Is it time to go up to the castle. Time to face Emma and the rest."

I caught him by the wrist. "That's not why I brought you here." I told him. "We needed to air things out and we've had a lot to talk about."

He sat down, frowning slightly. "I feel better as well Freddie. I guess that we need to put some work into it to get closer again but..."

"Sam." I said gently. "We can talk about that stuff over the next few days. We will work and we will talk. And the same will happen with you and Emma and Mark. But that's not why we're sat in a Tavern away from where people will hear us. Lets face it. We could have talked about all of that up in the palace in our rooms. It would have been much warmer and much more comfortable for a start. But I didn't want you to go in there unprepared."

"What's going on Freddie?"

"You need to know just how the people of Toussaint are treating Francesca. Because otherwise it will slap you in the face and I wish that someone had warned the rest of us." I smirked at a thought. "It has not exactly helped with my recovery."

"Ok." That wasn't all and Sam knows me well enough to have seen that.

"And there's something else."

"What?"

I took a deep breath to suppress a shudder.

"Freddie, are you alright?"

"Flame no. And just to warn you, I'm getting really fucing sick of people asking me that."

He smirked a little.

"It's just," I went on. "This is the first time I've had to talk about this to someone who doesn't already know what's happening."

I concentrated on breathing in and out for a minute. "Ok, here goes. Let's start with Toussaint."

I told him about the museum and the statues and the poems and the music. His face was a patchwork of anger, outrage and some other emotions that I couldn't quite read properly, but he was waiting for the punchline.

"I'm sure it's all horrible Freddie and I will take my justifiable rage out on someone as soon as I find someone to be angry at where I don't think I'm being unfair. But what's going on. You look as though you've seen a ghost and that it's just walked across your grave."

"Funny story about that actually..."

"Dammit Freddie."

I took another breath. I was actually shaking. I frowned at my hand as it trembled. I made a fist with it and squeezed as tightly as I could before I let go. The shaking was still there.

"You know how..." I swallowed and took another run at it. "You know how one of the reasons that we were going to Angral over the winter was that Kerrass wanted to look around. Now that we knew more about the cult in the North, more about the magic involved in Francesca's death. You know all of that?"

"Yeah, so? As I recall it was mostly meant as something for Kerrass to do while you and Ariadne stared into each other's eyes all lovey dovey like. So he wasn't a completely fifth wheel on the wagon."

I nodded and swallowed. "Well, while I was doing my best to shake my skeleton out of my skin after everything that has happened over the course of the year. Kerrass was out and about. It got a bit bleak after we left Skellige and... well... it might be better if you get that part of the story from someone else. We consulted someone else on what was happening and she turned out to be as helpful as everyone else has been during our search and investigation into what happened with Francesca. I did not take it well and Kerrass made a problem worse until I snapped. What you're seeing here is me recovering from that... snapping."

I shuddered violently.

"Freddie, do you need something."

"Tea. Strong with lots of honey in it please." My teeth chattered with the trembling as I spoke.

Sam called a server over and directed her as to what he wanted.

I just focused on breathing for a little while longer. "Our logic was tenuous." I hadn't intended to speak, nor had I any realisation that I was going to start or what I was going to say when I did start to speak. "After the news that the magic that was used to take her was ancient and alien we were seeking advice elsewhere. That didn't get us anywhere and in the cold logic of the morning light, we didn't actually think it was going to get us anywhere. But that didn't stop it hurting every time someone made us jump through hoops in order to tell us that they still didn't know anything. A Unicorn, a Druid, A Goddess and more.

"But then another thought occurred. The guys that had attempted to enslave Ariadne in order to overthrow the Duke of Angraal, had been trying to use ancient magic rituals from an ancient time and place. And as we were going to be there anyway, we reasoned, why not look into it while we were there. There was not a great chance that we were going to find anything but, "hey" we thought. "Worth a shot."

"And Kerrass was in disgrace for literally and figuratively throwing me to the wolves."

"What did he do?"

"He exposed me to an ancient and powerful being. And when that experience turned out to be massive and overwhelming, he just left me to it rather than trying to help me to come to terms with it. That's making a massive and long story, very short though so..."

"I get it. You're trying to get to the point."

"Trying being the operative word there. So after Ariadne threw him out..."

"Ariadne threw him out?"

"Yeah it was a whole thing. But after she threw him out, he went looking as an effort to redeem himself and to come to terms with the thing that he had done. And, well, he found something."

"Fuck me." Sam breathed. "After all this time."

We sat in silence for a while. The server brought me my tea. There is nothing that makes you feel quite so small as having to use both hands to hold a cup of liquid so that you don't shake that liquid all over your shirt.

"I'm almost afraid to ask but," Sam began.

I had leant back, my eyes had closed out of reflex while I waited for the tea to work it's magic and to help me calm down. I forced my eyes open and gazed at Sam. He was sat, leaning on the table with his elbows as his eyes darted this way and that. I recognised that pose. Sam was thinking furiously.

"Don't get too excited." I told him. "It wasn't much. Not very much at all, but it might be something. It just might be something." I sighed, taking another deep breath as I remembered that distant farm house where Kerrass had told me the story. Where he had been so worried about me as he did so. I shivered with the cold that was not in Toussaint and I saw, again, Kerrass' shame.

"I had given up Sam, I really had. I had set all of it aside. It took everything I had to set Francesca aside after all the damage that it had done to me and to the people that I cared about. I had set it aside and there Kerrass was, telling me that he might have found something and he didn't even know what it was that he had found."

Flame but I was in tears again. I was sat on the bench and I had curled my hands into fists and pushed them into my eyes. I could not get that image out of my head. A barn, Kerrass and his look of shame. He had supported my decision, promised to help me with what I had decided to do and then he had shown me that thing that might get me on the road again.

"Freddie." Sam put his arm round me. "Freddie,"

"Fuck's sake." I growled, suddenly furions with myself for the tears.

"You don't have to do this now Freddie."

"Yes I do." I told him.

There's a trick to it. It takes time and I haven't entirely got the hang of it yet. But it goes like this. You have to unclench yourself. You have to focus on your breathing and make sure that it's as regular as you can make it. You have to keep calm and then you have to calm the blood rushing through your veins.

Believe it or not, it was actually getting easier.

"What Kerrass was doing." I told him. "What he was doing was he was talking to those survivors of Dorme's lands. Those men and women that had been with Dorme,"

"You called him Lord Fuck-face as I recall."

"Yes. Because that way, his name has less power over me. I still shiver when I think of how close I came to shitting my insides out with the poison that he gave me."

According to what Sam said later. I was speaking quite normally while the tears ran down my face and I shook violently.

"But the theory went that Dorme was trying to contact those powers so that he could properly subjucate Ariadne. Our theory went that Dorme..."

"Call him Fuck-face." Sam said with a little venom.

"Our theory was that... Fuck-face did not have the connections to get hold of that power by himself. Therefore someone must have got it for him. Someone must have taught him those skills. It was a question that the church and the Lodge of Sorceresses and the rest have asked the people of Angral before. But the theory was that Kerrass might have seen more, know more or recognise more. Especially after all the things that we had seen and done since then. After all, back there and back then, he had other things on his mind."

"Like your survival for instance."

The trembling was beginning to subside.

"So Kerrass was talking to the people that had survived with Do... Fuck-Face the longest. Most of them recognised him of course and had no fear of him. Now that he had some more context to ask his questions, he was able to find a Shepherd out in the middle of nowhere that was able to give him some information."

Sam said nothing so I just kept talking.

"Dorme was part of a cult. He was the leader of it. We know that he was not a true believer because we were able to interrogate some of his followers. He was in it for the power that it gave him, going through the motions. We knew that he "worshipped" with other people that would come and go. The little knights and younger sons that had accompanied him on his efforts to overthrow the Duke and it was here that Kerrass was trying to emphasise things.

"So he found this shepherd. The Shepherd had been a groom or something close to the former manor house. His wife had been taken and... used as part of an early ritual and she had been discarded. The Shepherd had seen which way the wind was going and had taken his now broken wife and fled into the mountains. His parents had been shepherds and as such he knew all the secret sheep paths and things. Fuck-face didn't follow. A little groom and his, to Fuck-face and his shadow of a cult, used up and broken woman posed no threat. Who would believe a Shepherd and his damaged bride when they accused Fuck-Face of... all the things that they did."

"The arrogance of some nobles." Sam spoke up finally. "The Eternal Flame Bishop of the area would have recognised enough to investigate."

"He might. But the former groom, now Shepherd also believed that he would be ignored. So he took his wife up into the hills and helped her to recover. I've since met the shepherd and he seems a good man, a little simple but wise enough to get his wife out of there. And it was her that Kerrass wanted to talk to."

"That can't have been easy."

I finally opened my eyes and managed to take a drink. I almost instantly felt better and wiped my eyes. I took out my potion bottle that Walther had given me and added a measure to the tea.

"Medicine." I told Sam.

"The kind of medicine that you can share with your big brother?"

"Not really. This kind of medicine is something else. There is plenty of the other kind of medicine around though if you want it."

"Maybe later. What did the woman tell Kerrass?"

"Well, it took some doing but Kerrass was able to get her to tell him about the people that were involved in the cult that took part in the ritual that Fuck-Face had first taken part in. Most of the cultists were people that Kerrass knew about. But here is the crux of the matter. This was Dorme's first ritual. Step one on the way to constructing the bag that he thought would be able to enslave Ariadne's mind. It was also, according to other witnesses, relatively mild as these things go. Otherwise the woman would never have survived. But one of the figures was not recognisable as a member of the Angraal cult. He was not present when Dorme's cronies were arrested and it was originally thought that he was just someone who was into it before realising that things had gone too far. He would not have been alone in that feeling."

"But you now know who that person was."

"We do. You remember Lord Cavil's mage? From the cult of the First-Born?"

Sam hissed. "How could I forget. The bastard that figured out how to hide you from magical searches and how to break your link with Ariadne. Phineas Tor...something wasn't it"

"That's the shit. His name is Phineas Tordril although he used Torlane in the North " I took a big breath. "We don't know if even that is his real name but it might mean we can hunt him the easier. We know, with some certainty now, that he was in Angraal before Fuck-Face attempted his coup and release of Ariadne."

I sighed and a massive shudder went through me.

"It's small." I said. "It's very small and it's hugely dissappointing as to how small it is. But now there's a connection for us to tug on. Phineas Tordril. The magical mastermind behind some of the more magical elements of the Cult of the First-Born was also behind some of the magical elements of what happened in Angraal.

"And he must be caught."

(A/N: This chapter was a struggle to write. Partly because of some of the subject matter and partly because I just couldn't bring the damn thing to a stop. I feel as though I could keep writing this one forever and not get to a place where I would be happy with it. So I've decided to stop here as I promised that I would tell you what Kerrass found in Angraal. Please be gentle

I have also been struggling a bit with my own mental health recently. That's not a cry for help. I am ok in the main and my support structure is strong and taking care of me. But I'm taking a few days break as we go away on a short holiday. So there will be a slight delay before the next chapter. I'm not abandoning the story, just taking a few days off.

Take care of yourselves folks. Stay Safe out there and thanks for reading.)