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

134. Chapter 134

(Warning: Contains scenes of remembered miscarriage recounted to Freddie which is possibly a forced abortion.)

"Flame damn it all Kerrass, we are trying to help you here. Why won't you tell us, even a small amount of what is going on?"

"Because I made a promise, Freddie." He said between gritted teeth. "Several promises actually."

"I know," I told him. "One of those promises was to me. You promised me that you would never hide anything from me ever again."

"Yes I did." He snarled, his own anger rising. "Yes I did. I told you that I would never hide anything from you. And I meant it. But I made another promise and that promise was that I wouldn't give any of this away. I promised it, Freddie. I promised it on my life and on what remains of my honour. I don't have much left but I do have that so don't you dare try and take it away from me. Don't you dare do it Freddie."

There was pain in his voice. Anger and much hurt.

"I loved her." He went on. "It was only an affair, we both knew it. It would never last and we both knew that too. But she wanted me. She wanted me. Not some image of some noble line. Not some childish image of the man that rescued her. Not some gallant Knight to sweep her off her feet. She wanted me. It was only fleeting but she wanted me and now she's dead. I didn't kill her…"

"I know that…"

"Do you? Do you really? Goddess Freddie but I barely believe it myself. She was a good woman. A good woman that deserved better than what she got. She had the future that all young women in Toussaint dream of. She had wealth, land and ease while she had been swept off her feet by a handsome Knight, only for all of that to turn to ash in her mouth. She deserved better and I was trying to give it to her. Only for a moment, I was trying to give her something that she deserved and now she's dead. She's dead Freddie and I can't bring her back. Nor can you. So the least I can do is honour my word to her."

"But she is dead." I snarled back at him. "She is dead Kerrass and I am trying to prevent more people from dying. She is dead, people are framing you for it and much though you might be enjoying playing at being the martyr. Some of us don't want to see you hang."

"I'm not going to hang."

"Damn it Kerrass."

"No I'm not. I'm not going to hang. Everyone knows I didn't do it. Syanna told me as much. But if they don't lock me up then the countryside is going to come for me. The countryside, the court and everyone in between. I'm not going to hang."

"You're a Witcher." I told him.

"Thank you for finally noticing."

"Fuck you Kerrass." I snarled. "You're a Witcher and therefore a convenient scapegoat. You taught me that, so why is now any different?"

"Because this is Toussaint. They know Witchers here. I am not some easily dismissable piece of chattel. I am a Witcher and here, that is something to be respected."

"What is going on Kerrass? Tell me what is happening. What was your private matter that was so important for you to rush off for? What was written on the piece of paper that you kept taking out and looking at, brought to you by messenger no less? Why are you being so obstinate? Tell me, damn your eyes. This is going to get out of control and people are going to die because of it. Tell me what happened."

"No."

Things were not going well.

Unfortunately for everyone concerned, this situation was not new to me. I have sat outside Kerrass' jail cell on a number of different occasions. Often, small, dank, filthy and smelly cells that occupy the same rough location as the local sewers do. Kerrass warned me that it was one of those occupational hazards where people, whether town authorities or local nobility, feel that they can throw the Witcher in a dungeon for the simplest of crimes. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time is a favourite. Also, for the crime of being a Witcher. By far the most common was for the crime of asking for a fair amount of money for the work that had been performed.

It honestly used to shame me that this would happen so often. That pain of arrest and imprisonment was used as a negotiating tactic. Where self-important people would arrest Kerrass on some kind of trumped up charge, throw him in the dungeon for a day or two before having him brought before their august personage, forced to kneel before being told that, in their magnanimity, the ruler will allow the Witcher to work off his debt to society by killing whatever creature, or lifting the curse, that was plaguing the locals.

Such an activity then led to a whole host of other crimes which are considered to be capital crimes by such people. Not least of which is the crime of being impertinent and asking questions that the personage doesn't really want to answer.

This place was the opposite. The Dungeon was underground to be sure. But my guess was that it was in a repurposed wine cellar of some kind. It was well lit and well ventilated by the miracles of Elven engineering and the cell itself looked quite comfortable. I understood it to have been converted into a cell for the purposes of keeping political prisoners or, as wass the current case, to house a villain where keeping him somewhere else was impractical.

It was a similar place to where Lord Voorhis had thrown my family and I when they thought that Francesca's disappearance was a prelude to an attack on the Empress.

Kerrass himself looked relatively civilised as prisoners go. Again, from past experience I might be led to expect a few bruises, a slight hissing of pain when he took a breath from one or two cracked ribs, maybe a little bit of a limp if he got up and moved around. It is my experience that there isn't a guardsman in the Continent that can resist sticking the boot into the side of a Witcher. But Kerrass himself seemed to be fairly well treated. He was wearing a shirt and trousers and his feet were protected from the cold stone of the floor by a pair of soft, felt, bag like slippers. I knew that the rest of his clothes were in the anteroom having been thoroughly examined and that his weapons had been given, by me, to Ariadne's keeping which was the safest place I could think of to put them.

All things being told, We had been in worse situations. But Kerrass was being stubborn.

I tried to come at it from a different angle.

"Kerrass." I tried to keep my voice calm and reasonable. "You are being framed."

"Yes I am."

"By our enemies."

"They are the kind of people that tend to set about framing you, so yes, that statement would follow."

"Those enemies are trying to drive everything apart. Separate me from you and us from the Knight Commander."

"Again, all of that makes sense."

"So if that's what they want, what we should want is to keep ourselves all together. We should become a unified effort against them. Does that make sense?"

"It does." The small amount of amusement had left his voice.

"So why won't you help me exonerate you? All you have to do to solve this is tell us where you went last night. We can investigate it. We can go there now. Sir Guillaume here will follow me when we go, can attest to whatever it is that we find and that can be the end of the issue."

"Because I can't Freddie."

"Why not? And if you say that I'm just going to have to trust you I am going to get the guard to come over here and unlock your cell so that I can beat the crap out of you. I could probably do it too, given that I am wearing armour and you are not."

"Freddie. You have rightly chastised me for keeping things from you in the past. It is awful to me that this is happening. But I promised her that I would not give anything away. I promised her that I would not betray her secrets. I will not do so, even now. Even if it means the ruin of our friendship."

"Why?" I demanded. "Why is that more important?"

"Because it is." He retorted.

"A childish answer."

"Children answer that way because they don't have the language to explain." Kerrass responded. "Sometimes children lie because they have no other choice, or because they are preserving what little remains of their sanity, or their childish sense of right and wrong with the world. But if you push them, then often you find that they get to a point where they cannot go any further and, by the Goddess, you cannot push them any further.

"I swore you an oath Freddie. I absolutely meant it at the time. I swore her an oath as well and I would never have done so if I had thought for one moment that the two would come into conflict. But they have and now we have to live with that."

"But the oaths are not even Kerrass. You swore to me first, you have known me longest, she was an affair where I would hope that I am a lifelong friend and last but by no means least… I am alive and she is not."

That was a mistake.

His eyes flashed. "I wasn't aware that there was a scoring system Freddie. But even if there was then I could very easily argue that an oath to a dead woman is more important than an oath to an alive man.

"But while we're on the subject, let's examine that shall we. No, sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up. I am talking now Freddie. You have had your turn. You and I are not as close as we once were. I can feel it. I can sense us drifting apart. Part of the blame for that lies at my feet and I know it. I have started distancing myself from you as you and Ariadne get closer and closer. That's supposed to happen. I expected that. I even did it wilfully. I will admit to not expecting it to hurt quite as much as it actually has but that sort of thing is only natural. You are my friend and I hope that that never changes. But you are also young, still painfully naive and utterly arrogant in your behaviour here.

"Since when has one oath had precedence over another because of time. If that's ever been the case then I have never heard of it. But even then, when traitors give up on old causes and adopt new ones then it is the most recent cause that becomes dominant.

"And as for the fact that she was an affair. Yes she was. Yes she was, but when that's all you get to have then that's what you take with you. That's what you enjoy in the time that you are given. I love the Princess Dorn. I admit it. That has never gone away. I want to protect her, hold her close and keep her safe in a way that is so tangible that I can almost taste it. I love her enough to know that letting her go is preferable to whatever she would become if we both allowed ourselves to give in to our feelings. And I agree, one day, sooner rather than later, she and I are going to have to come to some kind of arrangement.

"I love her and I want her but I can never have her. Even if we were to love each other, we would not have the lasting happiness that you and Ariadne are going to have. So whatever happens, heartbreak is in our future. She deserves better than that. She deserves someone that can grow old with her and give her children. I can do neither and yes I have told her that and yes she has responded that she should get to decide what she wants.

"But I would resent it. I would hate myself for not being able to give her those things. And I dread the day when I look into her eyes and I see the pain there when she suddenly says, maybe even on her death bed. When she says, "I wish I could have borne you a son." On that day my heart will break and there will be nothing else I could do. She is a good enough person that she would see the fault as being with her when it is so clearly not.

"So I cannot have the woman I want. I can't. For her own sake as well as my own. You forget how lucky you are Freddie. You and Guillaume both. You have found the loves of your life and there is nothing stopping you, either of you, from being with them and loving them with all your heart until the end of your days. I don't get that luxury. I don't get to do that.

"So yes, Lady Moineau was an affair. A fleeting piece of comfort that we found in each other's arms. Where she could forget that her fairy-tale marriage was a sham. That a Knight had swept her off her feet before discarding her like so much roadside trash. Where she could forget that the women around her looked at her with pity and scorn for having to live with that sort of thing. An affair where I could forget, just for a moment, that my best friend was getting married and that I was losing him by the moment. Where I could forget that I love someone that I cannot have and where I could forget that I live in a world of darkness and sinister motives.

"Just for a while, we could both believe that the fairy-tales were true. That a beautiful lady could fall in love with a ragged Witcher on my part and there is someone out there that can rescue her for the lady. You have no idea what that was like. No idea what that was worth because neither of you, ever, have to worry about it."

I was astonished by the bitterness in his voice.

"Don't you dare apologise to me Freddie, don't you do it." He growled when he saw which way my head was going.

"I owe you more than I can easily say. And yes, the distance between the two of us is my fault as much as it is yours. I damaged and hurt you, I know it too. But you cannot equate yourself with her. You can't do it. I will keep my promise to her as well because in doing so, it means that she can keep her own promise to another. I will preserve her honour as much as I can."

The two of us stared at each other with the iron bars separating us.

"Give me something Kerrass, anything."

He considered this for a while. "Lady Severine Gaumont." He told me. "She was the friend that Kept my Lady's confidences. Maybe she can show you the beginning of the path."

I nodded. "I'm going to figure this out Kerrass."

"I know. You are more than capable and…" He allowed himself a small smile. "I trained you well."

"I'm sorry. I really am. I had no idea."

"Yes you did. You just didn't know how much it was affecting me. Oh, and by the way. Never fake a fit again. Whenever you do, it only means that the next time you, or anyone else is in genuine distress, everyone else will find it difficult to believe them."

I nodded. Ariadne had chastised me the same way earlier that morning.

"I'm going to get you out of this Kerrass."

"I know that too. And when you do, I'm going to find the bastard that killed her and I'm going to gut the bastard."

Guillaume moved for the first time in a long while. Pushing himself away from the wall against which he had been leaning. "The Duchess will have her justice."

"Then I shall swing the axe. Or pull the trapdoor lever, or whatever it is that the Duchess decrees. She deserved better than an ugly death at the hands of a madman."

"They all did." I said. "I will see you soon Kerrass."

He grunted.

I turned and walked away. Retracing the steps that we had followed to come down here. We collected our weapons from the guardpost at the entry to the cells and walked a little way through the corridors until I stopped suddenly and kicked the wall a couple of times. Hard. Then I leant, face first against that patch of wall with my head resting on my forearm.

"The Duchess will need to have that patch of wall repaired." Guillaume joked, a little awkwardly.

I ignored him, somewhere in the back of my head, a little voice was murmuring to me that I wasn't taking this all very well.

I could hear Guillaume taking a deep breath. "I feel awkward saying this." He began carefully. "But he's…"

"I KNOW." I bellowed at him.

Guillaume said nothing for a moment, "He's right." He said. "Yes it makes our life more awkward. But if he made a promise to a lover then that has more import than any oath that he might have sworn to you. Even a sword brother as you are. The fact that she is dead and it is an oath of secrecy makes it even more so."

"I know that too." I said, somewhat more quietly this time. "Flame, but I hate this sickness that Toussaint seems to be inflicted with. You all believe that chivalry is the best possible course of action and that it has precedence over every other form of behavioural code. You would follow it to the death, while all the time your enemies laugh as they know exactly how to use it against you."

"Of course we do." He told me. "Because the alternative is to be less than we are. Such a thing is… unthinkable."

"Of course it is." I told him, turning around. "I am sorry Guillaume. I have just been yelled at, not unfairly, for not being a good friend."

He came and stood beside me.

"That is understandable. It happens. And I would argue your phrasing. It takes two people to divide a friendship. When I got married, I lost a couple of friends that I thought would be my brothers until the end of time. They were the men that encouraged me in my pursuit of Vivienne and they were cheering me on at every step. They drank with me during the night of my Stag party and stood next to me on the day of my wedding, even as I would have them stand next to me on the field of battle.

"But since I was married, we simply do not spend as much time with each other. And now that they are married, we will spend even less time with each other. Some of those friends I still see, and still others are people where we pick up the thread of conversation from where we left it, all that time ago. There are a couple, however, that when we do meet, we find that we have nothing to talk about other than reminiscing and thinking about old times through the rosy hue of nostalgia. And even then, I do not think that we are remembering the same events."

"Was that meant to cheer me up?" I wondered.

"No." He said. "It was meant to support you in the times to come. However, you and the Master Witcher have been through a lot together. Such friendships ebb and flow but they remain solid. I would guess that, even were you to utterly destroy that relationship, when one of you calls, the other will answer."

"I hope so." I admitted. "I really do."

We stood in silence for a long moment. "Besides." he began. "You have not considered the worst part about Chivalry."

"And what's that?"

"It's contagious." He told me with a smile. "Courtly love, a code of honour. All men want that. All men, and women for that matter, want to believe in that kind of thing. So when you all come here, you want what we have. You want to live the way that we live."

"True. But on the other hand, it leads to situations like this."

"It does." He admitted. "But as I say, the alternative is unthinkable. We have debated long enough don't you think? I find that I have a longing to hit something and do some damage to evildoers."

I peered at him carefully. "Another of the problems with Toussaint is that I can never quite tell whether or not you are joking."

"It's tricky to say." He admitted. "And to be fair, in most cases, it could go either way. So what do we do now?"

"I don't know." I pushed my hand through my hair. "No, I do know. We retrace Kerrass' steps I suppose. I don't suppose you know that Lady Gaumont do you?"

"I know her." He admitted, looking unhappy. "I know her quite well. Well enough to not look forward to the coming conversation."

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Quite the opposite. I would give anything to avoid such a conversation."

"Can you introduce me to her?"

"I can."

"Good, then you can tell me about her on the road."

He nodded unhappily as we turned and began to head back out to the courtyard. There to summon our horses and find Guillaume's squire.

It was still fairly early in the morning and the corridors were fairly quiet all things considered. A few servants bustling around doing the things that servants do. Sweeping, mopping, cleaning, carrying of dirty linen and returning with neatly folded clean linen. One footman in fancy clothing came past with a covered tray of something that smelled like breakfast. It all had the air of, intense, silent, organised chaos that I always associate with a well run servant hall. Where everyone knows what their jobs are and is keen to do them. It's also a sign of a relatively happy servant hall which is almost as important.

But because of that we heard the shouting coming back from where we had picked up our weapons.

"Forgive me Lord Frederick but I must…" Guillaume said, beckoning me towards the noise. He calls me Lord Frederick when he's thinking officially, one of those small pieces of mutual coding that you get if you work together for any kind of length of time, or know each other particularly well. In this case, he was in full "Knightly" mode and needed to see if there were any villainous miscreants that needed dealing with.

I mock, but only in fun.

"Of course." I gestured for him to precede me, making sure that my belly knife was well situated. In these corridors my spear would be useless. Also, it would probably only be a hindrance to Guillaume or any of the people that he would be working with.

But I was not prepared for the sight that we found.

"I demand that you release the Witcher immediately."

"The Witcher is imprisoned under the authority of…"

"I don't give a DAMN what authority. I am a Knight Errant of the Ducal court and I request and require you to return the weapons to the Witcher and release him immediately and without delay."

Guillaume and I exchanged glances. Not what we had expected to hear, certainly not from that voice.

We came round the corner to find Sir Alain, of all people, his handsome face distorted with anger and frustration as he bellowed his displeasure, standing nose to nose with a pair of the Palace guard. The Palace Guard fall under Damien's jurisdiction and this pair were chosen for their utter lack of imagination as well as a certain grim outlook. They were the kinds of men that have their senses of humour forcibly removed at birth.

Sir Raoul lounged, languidly and at ease, against the nearby wall with his standard expression of faint amusement at the entire proceedings.

Guillaume wanted to go and intervene but I held him back, "I want to see this." I told him and Guillaume nodded.

The guard sighed the world weary sigh of put upon guardsmen everywhere. "Unless you have a Ducal writ, signed by the Duchess' own hand, countersigned by either the Knight Commander of the Knights Francesca, or the Captain of the Guard, then you cannot demand anything."

The guard was bored, a little annoyed and my assessment was that he was enjoying thwarting the efforts of this jumped up little Knight and his friend. He knew that he had absolute authority to do whatever he liked here, as backed up by the guard next to him with sword and shield ready and the other behind him with the loaded crossbow in his hands along with another crossbow on the table next to him.

"I am a Knight Errant, a Baron of Toussaint by blood and force of arms. A huge and grave injustice has been committed against a man in your keeping and I demand that he be released immediately so that we can set about proving his innocence. I have all the authority I need to be able to take the Witcher with me and release him to the freedom that he has been so cruelly deprived of."

"Well," the guard looked as though he was running out of patience. "Well, just let me check with my Sergeant as to whether or not you even have the power to direct me where to take a shit. Sergeant?"

"He doesn't." Said the man with the crossbow.

"So unless you come back with the signed papers then I'm afraid you can jam your rank up your arse for all I care."

"HOW DARE YOU?" Alain seemed genuinely upset and offended. "You cannot talk to me like that. That Witcher is innocent and…"

He was stopped by Raoul's hand on his shoulder.

"Leave it." Raoul said. "These fools do not have the choice. Leave them to their folly."

Alain looked as though he was going to argue for a few moments, eyes blazing before he spun and stalked out. I led Guillaume towards the guard post as though we had not been standing out of sight and listening.

"Do not bother Lord Frederick." Alain snarled with venom directed at the guard. "These fools will not listen. Not even to an honoured guest of the Duchess." He stalked off with Raoul's hand on his shoulder, the two of their heads together as they talked.

"What was that all about?" Guillaume wondered of the guard.

"Damned if I know." The guard replied. "Gotta be honest though, I enjoyed making that pumped up, prick angry. He didn't even try and get the countersign."

"Because he wouldn't get it." I said as Raoul and Alain turned a corner and went out of sight. "I would give a small fortune to be a fly on the wall to hear what that pair are saying to each other right now."

"He did seem rather convinced of Kerrass' innocence." Guillaume said. "If I didn't know better I would suggest that he was genuinely believing the suggestion that Kerrass was innocent. There was genuine outrage in his voice."

"There was." I agreed. "But I think that there was also some fear there as well." I considered it for a while before shrugging. "I get the feeling that this is one of those little mysteries that will be solved when we look back at it. We need more information and we won't get it here."

"Agreed." Guillaume said, saluting the guards who were listening to the conversation without expression. "We should be on our way anyway."

Guillaume had not needed that much persuasion to come and help me prove Kerrass' innocence. So much so that I would even have been a little suspicious under different circumstances. But he told me that he absolutely understood my urge to go to the aid of my friend and that he applauded it. The subliminal signals that Syanna had sent me that this was precisely what she had wanted me to do had completely gone over his head.

There was some adjustment though. I wanted to treat him in the same way that I treated Kerrass when I worked with him. But there were differences. Kerrass likes to ride in front, with a certain amount of distance between the two of us, especially on the more remote roads where Monster attacks become more likely and more common.

Guillaume rode on my left hand side. This so that he could throw his shield up and into the way between me and any attacker that he might come across.

He rode a Warhorse of considerable size that dwarfed my own, relatively small mare. The huge beast had an air of deliberate menace. As though it placed it's feet carefully and precisely while also wanting you to know that if it wanted to, it could just as easily place one of those giant, plate like hooves on your head and that it wouldn't even notice as it pressed the full weight of it's bulk down onto the top of your skull so that your head would burst like a grape. Like it's master, it seemed to have the attitude of a being that doesn't really have anything to prove. It knew that it was a giant, heavy, beast of war and that, much like an avalanche, once it started moving, it would not be stopped for anything.

Guillaume rode in his full armour, minus only his knightly boots. He wore a pair of riding boots instead with armoured front and back pieces that had needed strapping into place. He had read the story regarding William the Ram and he had laughed.

"I was not in Toussaint when he came to the tournaments. I was travelling with my wife on a diplomatic mission. But I heard of him. Young talent and would have gone far, but the assessment of others was that he wouldn't know what to do with himself when he was off his horse."

"That did seem, from my perspective at least, to have been what killed him."

Guillaume shrugged. "We all have those moments in the early parts of our careers. The danger is that the armour and the horse and the training and all of that…" He stroked his chin. "There's an old saying isn't there? About bending before the storm in case you break. Something about Arrogance and hubris."

"There is."

"Well when you've trained all your life with the overly heavy training swords and the overly bulky and heavy armour. And then you put the real stuff on and spin the real sword around in arc, you feel as though you are the storm and that everyone had better fucking well bend before you."

He laughed at some memory or another.

"So we think of ourselves as being invulnerable, raised on the stories of mighty and invulnerable Knights that solved all the issues of the world with a shining sword and bright lance, we think that the world is always like that. Knights charging under blue skies with the sun shining off the glittering lance points.

"Then one day, everything goes wrong. It rains, your horse slips a shoe, the armour doesn't sit comfortably and you find yourself off your horse and nothing that you've been trained for, which is mostly for tournaments anyway, works in the face of a screaming peasant with a pitchfork who is more than happy to trade his life for yours. It is in that moment that we stop being a squire and start being a Knight. Oh, we might have been given the title of Knighthood, gone through the ceremonies and the vigils and the anointing. But we are not a Knight until we are off our horses, in the mud and surrounded by people who want to pry our armour open with daggers in order to get at the stuff that lies beneath. I did, and I learnt that day that although, yes, those boots do make balancing for the joust easier, they are utterly useless for fighting on foot.

"Your William the Ram had not yet learned his lesson." He told me. "He thought that his armour made him invulnerable and that being on the back of his horse meant that he was all but protected from whatever Kerrass could throw at him. Unfortunately for him, he did not live to learn that lesson."

"It sounds like an important lesson to learn."

He turned in his saddle to speak to his squire. "You hear that Planchet? Lord Frederick says that it's an important lesson."

"I heard."

I had been introduced to Guillaume's squire that morning as we got ready to leave. I must admit, it would be nice to have someone around to do some of the chores. He was a young lad of about thirteen. He looked as though he might be given to being slightly overweight if he wasn't careful, or that he would pack on the muscle at a rate that would be fairly intimidating. He was nobly born but hadn't allowed that to go to his head. He had a good natured kind of, long suffering attitude about himself. As though he honestly believed that Sir Guillaume wouldn't be able to wipe his own arse if he, his squire, wasn't there to shout instructions. He hadn't blinked when Guillaume gave him orders to get us ready to move out and had assembled our horses and supplies with commendable accuracy.

Apparently he was one of the younger cousins of another one of the Knights of Saint Francesca. Family members were not allowed to be the squires of relatives. And Sir Guillaume had a need for a squire and so… That was how it worked. Guillaume treated him with a happy kind of good natured teasing. Like a big brother almost while at the same time, insisting that Planchet brought his books with him. In the cases while I worked with them, the book was there so that he could be properly tested on his increased understanding of the tactics of General Coehoorn, with particular attention to how the general ensured that there was proper amounts of food and clean water available for his troops during the march North.

"What was your moment like that?" I wondered.

"Ah, you see… somewhat embarrassing. But I had two moments like that in relatively short succession. It would seem that I am uncommonly stupid."

I laughed and wondered if Guillaume knew that he was disarming my worry and anger quite successfully. "You have to tell me the story after that."

"It was during my pursuit of Lady Vivienne." He said. "First I promised that I would kill the terrifying giant that had been plaguing the countryside. But then the giant hit me with a windmill and would have crushed me if it wasn't for the presence of my uncle and a Witcher."

He grinned at the memory.

"But so determined was I, that I ignored the injury that I sustained and the fact that my ears were still ringing so that I could go to the main tourney grounds and face a Shaalmaar. And that time, I got properly injured. Injured enough that it was clear that I would not compete in the tournament and win my ladies affections that way."

"Stubborn was she?"

"Not as stubborn as I was."

We rode a little bit further and I judged the moment right. "So… tell me about Lady Severine Gaumont."

We had travelled out of Beauclair now and were heading upriver. The countryside was beautiful as we passed a series of windmills although saying that about the countryside of Toussaint is like saying that water is wet and fire will burn you.

Unless it's the Eternal Fire of course in which case the fire is a warming, gentle caress that will guide you towards safety and spiritual fulfillment.

Guillaume took a deep breath to begin talking, paused, blew that breath out when he realised that he was holding it, then tried again.

"Did you have a group of friends when you were growing up?" He asked. "You know, the group of people that you trained with, socialised with and got up to your first mischief with."

"No." I said. "My father was not popular and as such, any attempt for any of his children to try and make friends outside the castle resulted in disaster and condescending natures. I did not really develop a friendship circle until I left home and went to Oxenfurt."

He grunted and stared ahead at a fixed point. Presumably, that point where memory took over from practicality.

"There was a group of us, contemporaries that were born to the right parents at the right time. I have since seen much virtue outside the noble classes as you have from your writings but at the time, I was brought up into the belief that we deserved what we got because of how we were born. Our parents were all noble families and spent their time socialising with each other and staying in each other's homes to hunt or do business. Or so that our mothers could gossip while our Knightly fathers were patrolling the countryside.

"The numbers varied, but we got up to all kinds of things. We defeated armies in the woods outside my Parent's manor house. We forded little streams and made out that they were vast rivers. We hunted monsters…" He looked at me sideways and smirked. "Most often a rabbit or a fox or something. Once we nearly caught a peacock before he made us regret it... But that was the way of things. In the realms of our imagination we were explorers in strange lands, taking our ways and our benign and charitable causes to the barbarians that lived there."

"Temeria right?"

"Often Skellige." He admitted. "My nanny in particular could tell hair raising tales of Skelligan pirates that used to keep me up at night with horrible nightmares."

We both laughed.

"There were a lot of us at first before we started to splinter. Nothing sinister at first. Just young people being young people and needing to be educated. We all learnt different things from different tutors. The first major division was to separate boys from girls. Again, not for sinister reasons but because the girls needed to learn to dance and the boys needed to learn to fight."

He snorted in amusement again.

"These are the bonds that are supposed to carry us through to our adulthood. Friendships that we share hardships and trials with. For the boys, it didn't work. I have never been able to figure out why and the only friendship that I managed to keep and cultivate from that time was Crawthorne, and we all know how that turned out. One suggestion as to why that happened is that we are taught to compete from a very early age. With sword and lance, with deed and achievement. We are constantly pitted against each other and that competition is carried onto our adult lives. I bear as much guilt as any here. When you want to be the best, you need to be competitive and my friendship circle shifted in my later teenaged years to include those men that were not acting at my level.

"It is shifting again now, as our Knight Commander is forging a real brotherly… and sisterly I suppose, spirit of mutual support in the Knights of Francesca. I like that… But, I am getting off topic.

"The problems really started in our friendship circle when the children started to grow up and our parents started to choose spouses for each of us. Some sought political alliance outside of Toussaint and those friends left, often to never be seen again except to come back and visit with a new wife and a handful of children. But others of us were seeking spouses inside Toussaint."

He considered for a while as we waved to some field workers.

"I have never wanted to be anything other than a Knight Errant and my parents soon learned that it was folly to try and get me to even consider travelling outside the Duchy, let alone to consider a different career. They could have arranged something but I would simply have refused to go and that would have been the end of it. There were a handful of us in that position, all within about five years of each other and there was a similar number of eligible women of the same age."

He drifted off into the pit of memory again.

"You ever look back…" He began before seeming to reconsider. "Do you ever look back at a past time, where you remember a time of your life where it all seems so rosy to your memory. You look back and think… "That was a good time to be alive," without being able to remember all the horror that happened at the time, all the angst and the recriminations and the hardships that went with it that, now, would be trivial but at the time seemed to be world ending."

"I do. The early years of my University stay. After the newly won freedom wore off and things settled down. In that period where I was still trying to decide who I was beyond the books that I wanted to read and what I wanted to do with my time."

"It was the same with me. Would it surprise you to learn that Sir Alain is only a little bit older than me? Matter of only a handful of years."

"No, I don't think I would be surprised."

"Then would it surprise you to learn that he and I were once fairly close friends?"

"That would surprise me."

"He was always better with the sword, whereas I was always better with the lance." He stared at the spectre of memory for a bit longer.

"What brought about the change?"

He started out of his memory. "We all changed. I might have changed the most looking back. I would like to think that I have changed for the better but I look back and I am barely the same man that I was this time last year. Let alone from back then. Alain and Crawthorne were like brothers to me. They both had a couple of years on me but I remember the first time that I got drunk. I mean, really really drunk. Not the kind of rosy warm glow that we get at our father's dinner table with the small cups of wine that we are allowed to flavour our water with. But the proper, puking, holding onto the ground so that the room stops spinning kind of drunk."

"I remember the experience well."

"Well, it was Alain that supplied the wine and later, it was Alain that took the responsibility for it all onto himself." He sighed at the memory. "I do remember though that our dreams of what Knighthood would be like were very different. I dreamed of mighty deeds, enemies vanquished and service to the Duchy. He dreamed of rescuing fair maidens and kisses beneath apple blossoms."

He lapsed into silence again.

"What happened?" I prompted, trying to get him moving again. There was a distinct feeling that if I wasn't careful, I would lose him down the well of memory and not get him out. He didn't want to talk about this so the normal trick of being silent and letting the other person fill the silence was not going to work.

"There was an opposing cabal of youth." He said finally. "Sinister, alien creatures that we did not understand."

"The girls." I guessed.

"Exactly right. There were several of them, slightly fewer than there were boys and we competed for their affections rather fiercely. Sometimes too fiercely. All of them were beautiful, perfect, wonderful creatures." He looked at me slyly. "I have never understood the attraction to the male of the species. I mean, I have no problem with it as that got me a wife and who a person shares a bed with is none of my business, but it honestly baffles me. I can relate to your sister quite well. Men are ugly, smelly, dirty, clumsy, stupid, rude, hairy and unpleasant. But women are graceful, smooth, clever, charming, strong and with a shape that is beautiful to behold. And so it was back then as well.

"The girls were growing into women and we were still struggling to get our limbs to move in the right directions at the right times. We were all awkward and gangly, covered in pimples and all the unpleasant airs of that point in time when boys begin to become men.

"The girls were led by two women who were born within a month or two of each other to mothers who were already firm friends. They were the leaders by virtue of being older than the rest by a few years and they had that peculiar form of… seemingly only female friendship, that they loved each other fiercely while also hating each other with a passion that was… terrifying.

"They competed for everything, who could produce the best embroidery, who could be the best dancer, the best musician. It went on and on. Then, as they grew older, they started to compete for the attentions of the boys. Who could get the most compliments from the prettiest boys, who could tease more who could flirt more and so on and so on. There wouldn't be a day that went by where the pair of them wouldn't have some kind of colossal fight before having equally as dramatic a make up and reconciliation. Those two women were Severine Gaumont and Amelie Mignard who you would know as the late Lady Moineau."

I nodded to show that I followed.

"The two ran the cabal of girls with iron fists and Vivienne, who was at the younger end of that group, tells me that they were ruthless with their control. They were not unkind, but if anyone challenged their dominance, they could be cruel while promptly following up with acts of kindness that tied the errant girl to them even closer. Both of them were beauties. I mean you saw Amelie when she came with Alain to the ball, pale, blonde and shapely. The sort of woman that you want to hold carefully and gently."

I nodded again.

"Severine is very different. She is tall, dark skinned and dark haired, very slim with dark hair. She had this way of looking at you in a way that made you feel really small. Both of them were beautiful you understand, but in very different ways.

"Alain was now growing into a handsome man. So handsome that our mothers and female servants took to describing him as a very pretty young man. He was not yet unpleasant with it, but he was certainly gaining in confidence. He would practice walking and moving around in his armour so that he could look as good as he did. He would often be found in his mother's dressing chambers in order to make use of the mirrors there to make sure that his armour, or clothes, looked properly fetching on him. We teased him about it but he could still kick our asses on the practice field and I was only good enough to beat him at the lance so we couldn't do much mocking to his face.

"But both women decided that they wanted this young and handsome Knight. We all grew up, grew older and it came to that period of life when our parents started trying to find us all people to marry. You know this too?"

"I do. I was a spectacular failure at the courting game."

"Alain's gifts with the sword and Lance were sufficient to win him renown as a Knight Errant. He spent most of his time at the tournaments and contests rather than hunting bandits or monsters. But back there and back then, this was a perfectly acceptable use of your time if you were a Knight Errant even if I thought that it was… rather lazy I suppose. He was his father's heir and favourite so it was clear that he would inherit and be a Knight Errant, therefore, he needed a bride from Toussaint.

"At some point, Alain's fantasising about rescuing maidens turned into fantasising about the joys of the bed chamber and he had started to become arrogant. I wanted to serve the Duchy, fighting bandits and monsters and the like where he was always at a contest. As a result, we had already begun to grow apart. Sheer lack of proximity would do that. I was arrogant myself, still am really, and we would meet up occasionally for some drinks, but even then I noticed the smiles that he would pay the barmaids, and the ladies that we passed in the street.

"I began to grow jealous of this kind of thing. Even though my heart had already been taken by Vivienne's grief and sadness, there is still a certain part of a young man that longs for the attention of all the beautiful women."

"I can relate." I told him.

"So Alain made it clear that he would only be satisfied with the most beautiful women in Toussaint, and as a result, the most beautiful woman as his bride. So Severine and Amelie decided that they were going to have him. This is where our hero enters the tale."

"Meaning you."

"Meaning me. It was one of those situations that comes up when military men forge friendships on the battlefield. Severine's father had once saved my father's life and the favour had been returned later. A firm friendship was inevitable. They were ringbearers at each other's weddings and they shared everything. My mother once joked that my father loved Severine's father more than he loved her, which might have been ugly had she and Severine's mother also forged a firm friendship.

"So the two men were desperate to move past friendship into being family. When Severine was born, my father was desperate for a son so that our two families could be joined by marriage and as soon as I was old enough, Severine having a few years on me, then the arrangements started to be made. There was a real period there were friends and family members would come and congratulate me for marrying one of the premier beauties of Toussaint.

"Unfortunately for our fathers, there were two problems. I had already fallen for Vivienne and She was determined to have Alain for her own."

"Your parents must have loved that."

"You have no idea. I was the luckier of the two I think, in that my Mother was understanding of my choice. Vivienne was closer to my own age, she was kinder, more gentle, obviously more beautiful in my eyes and I think that my mother decided that Vivienne would be good for me. She once said that I needed someone for whom I could be a hero."

I decided that there was enough room here for a tangent.

"Why her?"

"It probably isn't very polite of me to say, but she was always so sad, so even as a young boy, I made it my mission to make her laugh and as I grew older, I wanted to include her in things. Bring her into the circle. I wanted to see her dance, to laugh and enjoy herself. But all too often she was forced to stand aside and that broke my heart. It's very Knightly of me. There was a maiden in need of rescuing and I was determined to rescue her, even though I didn't know what she needed rescuing from. So determined that in the end, I allowed another to do the rescuing for me, even though I played a small part at the end."

He smiled at the memory.

"But I was telling you of Severine and Amelie. Our fathers were determined to see us wed and in the meantime, Alain was playing hard to get with regards to the two women, while chasing every other skirt that he could get away with. Of the two though, he was moving towards Amelie as she was the more classic interpretation of beauty in Toussaint. Pale, golden haired, slightly smaller, shapely while Severine was tall, dark and severe.

"Severine became desperate. Something happened between the two women, Amelie and Severine although no-one really knows what it was. All that is known was that there was a huge row and that this time, Amelie walked away, swearing that she would never forgive Severine and for a while it seemed as though she was right. Alain finally convinced Amelie to marry him and the two were wed in the… then, most lavish wedding that Toussaint had seen and never have I seen either Alain or Amelie looking so happy. Severine was nowhere to be seen that day.

"After that of course, it all fell apart. It was less than a month before Alain was seen in the company of another woman, a peddler's daughter from further South and Amelie started her long descent into misery."

"What about Severine?"

"Severine spent a year or so descending into bitterness and anger. Our fathers insisted on pursuing a marriage contract but one night, Severine was over with her parents for dinner. Severine and I had been walking in the garden with one of Severine's maids as chaperone. We were civil to each other but Severine was angry, sniping at the old woman that was watching us, snapping at the servants that were there and haranguing the garden workers.

"That night, my mother spoke to my father at length and I never heard anything about a marriage contract again. I will admit to being relieved. For all of her beauty, Severine was… We had little in common and she was… well… boring I suppose is the right term although it is more unkind than I would like it to be. She enjoys things that I do not. She likes gossip and drama. She keeps lengthy correspondances and gossiping about friends to other people. Playing the small politics of social circles.

"Vivienne is exciting. Far more intelligent than I am to the point where I wonder what she sees in me. She is witty, clever, charming and she cares about Toussaint. Severine, at the time at least, I have no idea how she behaves now. But at the time, she was only really out for herself."

"What happened to her?"

"She never found a proper suitor."

"Why not? If she is as lovely and eligible as you suggest? Surely someone would be found."

He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. "There are rumours."

"What rumours?"

"I don't like to speculate. Nor do I enjoy listening to gossip. Severine was a good woman once, just angry and bitter. But she fell out with her parents, and went to live in one of the Villa's on her father's land. We still speak when I pass and she seems much calmer now. I have asked her and she tells me that she enjoys the spinster life. Amelie and she made friends again a couple of years after Amelie's marriage to Alain and that's that."

"What are the rumours?"

"It is not the place of a Knight of Saint Francesca to spread salacious rumours."

I laughed at him. "Guillaume. One of the things I remember about my sister Francesca was that she was an insatiable gossip. The more salacious the rumour, the better."

His mouth fell open in horror and I could not help but laugh at him.

"Rumours are the lifeblood of such things." I told him. "And sometimes, rumours can turn out to be true."

"They can." He admitted, "But at the same time, it is not my place to spread things around that are probably untrue."

I had the sense that my new companion would not allow himself to be drawn any further out on this particular conversation and so resolved to let him be.

We were following a track along the river and conversation became impossible as the track became narrow enough that we could not ride next to each other. Guillaume went in front and I followed along beside. The borders of the track were overgrown and unkempt in the winter air and I could easily imagine them bursting into a riot of colour come the springtime. What colour there was was provided by snowdrops that drooped from their stems. They seemed to be a variety that were not to be found in the North, either that or I had simply never seen them. The very tips of the white petals seemed to be coloured a light blue and I snagged a flower in order to present it to Ariadne later. Then I snagged another as an afterthought to give to Anne.

We reached the top of a rise and the slope plateaued out before we could see it rising again in the distance towards the mountain. The small river tributary gurgled on one side of the flat area and although I did not have a drink from the water, I had no doubt that it would be icy cold. The road continued on over the plateau and back down the hill off to one side but there was a branching pathway that led off along the river which Guillaume took. Ahead of us the hills sloped up into the mountains with the countryside turning wilder and more tree-covered but we were not going that far.

There was a smallish manor house with a water wheel sticking into the water. It was a nice looking building, well built with green climbing plants up the side of it. There were a couple of other cottages attached which I took to be servants dwellings of one kind or another as well as several old sheds that would house tools of some kind. As we approached, there was a large bearded man chopping wood with the long easy strokes that spoke of much practice. A couple of small children were tormenting a cat that betrayed all the signs of just wanting to be left alone, but had resolved to put up with the cuddles and the kisses that come with being fed the occasional piece of fish.

Guillaume led us to the manor house and gestured that we should tie our horses to the post that seemed set there for this purpose next to a large pile of hay. Guillaume's squire was ordered to "Find a way to make yourself useful" and slunk off to the wood chopper as Guillaume led me to the front door in the same way as a man would march to his own hanging.

It really was a nice place, the sort of place that I imagined that I could retreat to quite happily if it came down to it. Finding myself somewhere quiet to sit, read and think. Plant pots under the windows were currently empty with the season but there was smoke coming from the chimney.

Guillaume knocked on the door. There was a long pause and he tried again before the door was opened by a woman that I took to be Lady Gaumont.

She was tall, easily as tall as I am, and she had long dark hair that fell in the kind of artless wavy weight down her back and over her shoulders that betrayed much work and concentration to get it to hang just like that. She was dark eyed and dark, olive skin that was only broken by a beauty mark on her right cheek. It was a strong face with a cleft in the chin and cheekbones that could cut glass along with a slightly pointed nose. All of which conspired to make her appear hard and unyielding.

She was wearing a black dress, which did not help the image. It was severe, thick for the season and showed off a thin frame. She had a shawl wrapped around herself that she held tightly and her eyes were red with tears. I got the impression of a woman that, under any other circumstances, would be considered a beauty but the grief that stood out in her eyes robbed her of that.

She saw who it was and her eyes flashed as she slapped Guillaume across the face.

"You would come now wouldn't you." She told him in a voice caught between a snarl and a sob. "You would come now after she's already dead. Where were you Guy? (she pronounced it "Geey") Where were you? You were supposed to be her protector, you were supposed to be our protector."

The rage left her and she stepped in and hugged the clearly astonished Guillaume before sobbing. Awkwardly, his arms came up and he hugged the weeping woman back.

Then her mood changed again as she pulled back and furiously dabbed at her eyes with a cloth that she pulled from one of her sleeves. "Who's this?" She wondered looking at me.

"Lady Severine Gaumont… It is my honour and…"

"Cut the nonsense Guy," She said, looking me up and down. "We have known each other far too long to be hung up on such nonsense and I am far too upset to expect it. If he is offended then he can leave."

"I am far from offended Ma'am." I told her, bowing. "I am Frederick von Coulthard."

"Kerrass' friend." She said. "The one that made him famous."

"If you like."

"I wonder if I should slap you as well." She sniffed. "You are engaged?"

"I am."

"And happy with it?"

"I am."

"A pity, otherwise I could imagine myself moving north."

"I have an elder brother." I told her. "He is unmarried and will shortly inherit our family's lands, wealth and title."

"Interesting. What is his name?"

"Samuel von Coulthard."

She snapped her fingers in recognition. "No, I have met the gentleman and the two of us did not take to each other. There was something about him that did not sit well with me."

She considered the pair of us again. "Well, you'd better come in. It's either that or send you off again. I have tea brewing."

She turned and led us back inside where we were ordered to leave our weapons and boots by the door and were made to sit in comfortable chairs by the fire. I took the precaution of leaving my cloak there as well as the lady bustled about, putting a kettle of water over the fire to heat up and adding some more dried leaves to the pot.

"I have some cakes somewhere." She said. "Some date scones if that's your fancy?"

'I am not hungry," said an obviously uncomfortable Guillaume.

"I would love a scone." I said with a smile at her. Some of Kerrass' long standing advice echoing in my ears. "Always accept the offer of food." He would tell me. "Even if it's a gruel so watery that it might as well be mucky water, take the food and look grateful."

She produced the cake and a small pot of butter and some black-current preserve that was a little too tart for my taste but I suffered through it manfully.

"You will have to forgive Guy." The lady told me. "Has he told you that he and I were very nearly married?"

"He has."

"Did he tell you why he didn't?" She smirked evilly at the squirming Knight.

"He seemed to think that there was a breakdown in negotiations between your father and his. That neither of you were too upset by this on the grounds that you were both in love with another person anyway so…"

"Mostly correct. But I always thought that it was largely because he was afraid of me."

"You are a fairly intimidating woman."

She lost her train of banter about halfway through my joking retort though and sunk into staring into the flames. A tear rolled down her cheek before she realised what was happening and wiped her face. "Tea." She declared and poured water into the pot that I lifted the lid for her. There was another, short, period of bustling as she found cups, cream and honey for the brew."

"Severine." Guillaume tried. "Do you not have ser…"

"They have all been sent home." She told him from where she was looking for a teaspoon in the drawers of a cabinet. "The vigilance committees have come round and insisted that all the girls are to go home. The truth is that they were all so scared anyway that they were tripping over themselves. I like to do it anyway. The groundskeeper and his wife are bringing me some pots of stew from their fire every night."

"Are you not lonely?" I wondered.

She gazed at me flatly for a while. "If I was troubled by loneliness, then I would have gone mad a long time ago. True friends are hard to come by and most will set you aside the moment that doing so becomes more convenient for them than maintaining…"

"Uncalled for." Guillaume seemed hurt. "You set us aside."

"And you never visited." She snapped.

"And you never wrote." He growled as I began to see why the two of them might have been considered compatible by parents, but also why the two of them might want to avoid it. We all know the kind of couple that will be at each other's throats one second and kissing passionately the next. They seemed to have this ability to get under each other's skin.

"Interesting though it is going over Guillaume's childhood." I began.

"You have come to talk about Amy." She said. "Have you hanged the bastard yet?"

"Who?"

"Alain of course… She was terrified of him."

She stared at the pair of us, as I knew that my mouth had fallen open.

"We are here in an effort to…" Guillaume began. "Witcher Kerrass has been arrested for the murder and we came here in an effort to see if you could tell us something that might clear his name."

"Kerrass?" She snorted. "Kerrass would never kill Amy. He adored her. There was a while there where I thought she was going to run away with him when you inevitably leave Toussaint."

"Forgive me…" I began carefully. "But I was under a couple of impressions. Please, I apologise for being blunt. But…"

"Spit it out." She snapped at me.

"I was aware that Lady Moineau and her husband were not close but fear? Also, Kerrass has left me with the impression that their..?" I looked at Guillaume helplessly.

"Affair?" Suggested Severine. "They were sleeping together Fred. I put Amy in the room furthest away from my own as I always do whenever she comes here to stay as she only comes here when she's got some man on the hook. And even then, I could still hear them. Kept me awake all night." She said that last with a certain amount of relish.

"Yes, their… affair. Kerrass believed that it wasn't too serious. A fleeting moment, that they both hung onto fiercely despite both of them knowing that it would never last."

"Yes, that would be the kind of thing he would say. Soul of a poet that one."

She sunk into melancholy again. "Ah, but Amy was lucky she saw him first. I would have quite liked a little…"

She shook herself "Anyway, Kerrass would never kill Amy. It was Alain." She spat the name. "May his manhood wither into a blackened husk before falling off due to the amount of self-pleasuring he does."

Guillaume cleared his throat in discomfort.

"You are sure it was Alain?" He said. "Did you see it? Do you have any… proof? Because if you do, I have to act on it, you know that."

Severine looked unhappy. "No, I don't have any proof. Other than the fact that he is a snake, a liar and a cad."

If I am any judge, there was genuine hurt and pain in her voice.

"Then why are you so sure?" I wondered. "Kerrass told us to come here. He told us that you would lead us on a path towards knowing what he knew. He was sworn to secrecy about something but that secret might see him hanged yet. Do you want that?"

"No, I don't want that. Do not be foolish. I thought you were a clever man."

"Clever enough to be stupid sometimes." I told her. "So enlighten me. What was happening here? Kerrass told me it was just a little liaison. Tell me what happened and why are you so sure that it was Alain that did it?"

Lady Gaumont sat and stared into her little hearth for a long while, the small flames guttering around inside the small logs of wood as they slowly turned to ash. She looked as though she was aging before my very eyes, becoming pale and drawn.

"She was afraid. Amy I mean. She was scared for her life. I asked her why many times and she never told me." She spoke in a whisper, as though she were fearful that to speak aloud would make the matter true. "You are right. Her affair with Kerrass was just that. A small romantic liaison that gave her comfort in the nightmare that her marriage had become. Not the first either."

There was a pause. "Oh Guy, she was so scared. Scared enough that she shook. I pleaded with her, I begged her to tell me what was happening and she wouldn't say. I told her to tell Kerrass. If anyone could help her then he could. Of all people he would be able to help her. And he cared, he really did. It wasn't love, I know that. I think he loved her in his own way but he wasn't in love with her. He would have protected her, he would have taken her away."

She sobbed, real tears coming down her cheeks again.

"I tried Guy. I really tried. I tried to save her. I tried to get her to run, to flee but she wouldn't have it. Oh Prophet's but her face when the guards came to take her away. She knew then." She sobbed. "She knew. She knew and she said nothing. She did nothing. But she hugged me farewell, she thanked me for all my help and all my love and then she said goodbye."

She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

"Oh Prophets. I killed her, as much as anyone, I killed her. I should have sent her away. I should have summoned a guard, a Knight, someone who had the authority to demand that she tell them what was going on. But I didn't and now she's gone. My only real friend and she's gone."

As she wailed that last, Guillaume had finally had enough. He was up, out of his chair and wrapped the woman in his arms.

"You didn't kill her." He told her as she clung to him in the same way that a drowning woman might cling onto a piece of wood. "You didn't kill her, the bastard that wielded the knife killed her." He caught my eye and jerked his head towards the door. I took the hint and made a discreet exit.

I stood in the open air, stamped my feet and rubbed my hands together for warmth, it was going to be a cold day

The woodcutter brought me a cup of hot chicken soup and a hunk of bread. He just brought it over "You look like a man who needs something hot." He said, amiably before wandering back to his wood pile.

"Hang on," I said, taking a sip of the tasty liquid. "What's the story here?"

"Story?"

"Yeah. What kind of place is this?"

He held up his hand in the universal gesture to wait. He wandered off to his cottage and came back with another cup of soup and a shout to his wife that he was speaking to one of the visitors.

He didn't have that much to say. The house was part of a small estate that Lady Gaumont's father had won in a card game of some kind. She had come here a few years ago and so he and his wife had gone from being general kinds of caretakers more towards being groundskeepers and gamekeepers.

Lady Gaumont had arrived with her own maid and cook and so they had found their responsibilities somewhat reduced. They didn't mind. They were still getting the same old stipend for keeping the waterwheel going. A miller came during the winter to keep the waterwheel moving and occasionally, get some flour ground.

I asked about other visitors and he told me that the only visitors that were easily depended on were Lady Gaumont's mother who would come to check on her daughter. An elder brother and sister would come occasionally during hunting season but Lady Moineau was the most regular visitor.

"It were kind of funny actually." He said. "She comes every so often, stayin' for weeks at a time. The two fight like cats and dogs but always weep when they have to be parted."

"Does she come by herself?"

"Yeah, although she don't stay by herself if you take my meaning m'lord."

"I do not."

He scratched at his beard. "Well, there are always handsome young fellas coming by to see her if you take my meaning. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's tragic."

"Funny?"

"Yeah, there were a young bard once, few year ago. Stood beneath her window singin' up to her. Got annoying in the early hours of the morning as the man couldn't keep a note." He chuckled. "She were more tuneful than he was after she let 'im into her room if you take my meaning."

I did.

"Then there were a couple of others where there was weeping and gnashing of teeth."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, the kind of behaviour that I had when I were first looking at the ladies if you take my meaning. Back when the world would end if I could not be with the woman of my dreams. All "Woe is me" kind of thing."

He theatrically put the back of his hand to his face and pretended to swoon. I grinned in appreciation at his antics.

"I remember the time well." I told him.

"I liked her most recent one though. The Witcher. He seemed a much more professional type to me. He knew what it was about. Knew what was going on and decided that he was going to enjoy 'imsel' while he were here. Knew enough to be discreet anyway."

"He told me that there was a contract in the local area."

"Yeah, not a real one though. Paid a pittance. There's a rumour that a woman was killed over in the gully over yonder." He waved his hand vaguely. "And there is a reward for driving off her ghost. Pointless really. I've never seen her, nor has me wife." He sniffed. "I reckon it's the kind of ghost story that you tell to frighten kiddies and intimidate stupid people."

We had finished our soup and set the cups aside. He produced a clay pipe and offered me some tobacco from his pouch.

"Thankee by the way."

"What for?"

Well, for two things. One, for giving me a good excuse to skive off. But the other is for taking this all seriously."

I grinned. "For the first thing… You're welcome. For the other… What do you mean?"

"Well, Lady Amelie, she didn't like being called Lady Moineau when she were 'ere. She were a good sort. Didn't condescend, didn't talk down if you take my meaning. Some folk wi' her kind of looks seem to think that the continent owes 'em sommet. She always said please and thankyou. I might not have approved of how often she betrayed her husband, nor did I think she had the best taste either. But she were good people, you can just tell after a while."

"What happened the day they came to take her away?"

"Not much. 'Alf a dozen guardsmen turned up in the colours of her cloak and riding livery. They went in, I found 'em fodder and water for horses and then they left with Lady Amelie in tow. She didn't look 'appy but then, she never does when she 'as to go 'ome."

"Were there any other visitors over the last few days?"

"Nope." He said, looking at me. "Not a one."

"Just Kerrass."

"Yep. Saw 'im ride up."

"When?"

"Night after she left. Immediately after." He checked back to look at the house. "'er ladyship made a pass at 'im that I'm not sure I could have resisted." He sniffed, "but he stayed for some tea and a gossip before he left a bit later."

"Did her ladyship succeed in seducing him?"

"Not for my money, looking at how upset she was afterwards if you follow me. Doesn't have as much luck with the men as Lady Amilie does."

"Why?"

"Got some sharp edges that one. She hates with a passion and her mood shifts on a knife-edge. A fella wouldn't know if he were comin' or goin'. And I didn't mean that in a filthy way. But I like to know where I stand, especially with a lady."

"I've known a couple of women like that."

"So've I. Course, I were much younger back then." He grinned. "Me wife's cousin is like that. Always complaining that they couldn't land a fella while in the same breath saying that they refuse to compromise themselves for a man. Me wife always laughs at 'er and says "For the right man, you will not notice that you've compromised."

"Wise woman, your wife."

"I think so, but then again, she married me so how wise can she be really?"

"I say the same thing about the woman that I'm marrying."

He grinned. "Don't fight it. That feeling never goes away, you just go along for the ride and enjoy it until she comes to her senses. Then one day, you realise that you're both old."

He cackled.

"You said that Kerrass was here last night too. The night that Lady Amelie died?"

"Yeah. Came in the early evening in a rush. Just threw his reins over the post and went into the cottage. Just as it were starting to get dark."

I nodded, that would track for when Kerrass left on his personal errand.

"He were in the house for a little under an hour before he left at the gallop. Heading off in the direction that Lady Moineau lives. I nearly yelled for 'im to watch his step. Men die when they ride that fast in the dark but then I figured… He a Witcher i'nt he."

"He is."

Guillaume came out of the house and beckoned me over.

"Sir?" The wood cutter asked. "Your Witcher friend did not kill Lady Amelie. I can see him killing in cold blood. But he didn't do this one."

"I know."

"You gonna write that in one of your fancy books?"

I answered his grin with one of his own.

"You know who I am then?"

"Course. Wife's a big fan. She uses your books to try and teach me to read."

"I am so sorry."

"It's not that bad. I humour her because it gets our kid to learn as well."

I laughed. "Thanks for the soup. It was delicious."

"I will tell the wife. She'll be delighted."

I chuckled and returned to where Guillaume was standing. He was… I don't know what he was, but he wasn't happy.

"She will speak to you now." he told me, staring at a point a little over my shoulder.

"She made a pass at you didn't she." I guessed.

He said nothing but I saw my point hit home.

"Be gentle with her Lord Frederick." He said formally. "Or you will answer to me."

I felt my eyes narrow. "I don't need threats, Guillaume."

"I know. I apologise. She always stirs up some unpleasant thoughts in me and I am not myself."

"It's alright. I have people like that in my life too."

"She is grieving. Be gentle, please. I will wait out here."

"I suspect that the trail will lead us to the Moineau estates when we leave here unless Lady Gaumont can tell us something else."

He nodded. "I will make sure that we are prepared, but it is unlikely that we will be allowed onto the lands."

I nodded and went to go into the house.

Lady Gaumont was sitting in the same seat as before. She was leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, staring into the fire.

"More tea?" She wondered.

"Yes please, but I can make it."

"I am the hostess." She protested.

"Yes, but I am the visitor." I countered.

She frowned. "I do not follow."

I smiled, "Let me make the tea."

She nodded and I set about the task.

"You have questions." She said after a moment.

"If Kerrass told you anything about me. He will have told you that I always have questions."

"He did mention." She sighed and rubbed at her head. "I have lost my best friend in all of Toussaint which means that I have lost my best friend in the entire continent, which is essentially the world. And looking for comfort, I have just driven off the man that I thought I was too good for when I was younger, and is now too good for me."

The tears fell down her face.

"So you'll forgive me if I admit that I don't know where to start."

"It's a long standing joke in my profession." I told her as I struggled to remember where the honey was. "That you generally start at the beginning and work your way through until you reach the end."

She laughed, her mood changing, as the wood cutter warned, on the Knife edge. "My tutor would be proud of me as I ask "But where does anything really begin"?"

I grinned in answer. "In this case? Why do you hate Alain, I mean… I've met him and I don't like him. But you hate him more than that. You hate him personally rather than in general. What is the relationship between you and Lady Moineau,,,?"

"Don't call her that." She snapped, eyes flashing.

"Why are you so sure that her husband killed her, and what happened over the last couple of nights?" I considered before turning my head on one side to be comical in my considering. "Yes, I think that's everything."

"That is not a small amount." She commented with a wry and unhappy smile.

"No it is not. But over and over and over again I have found the truth that context is key. I learned it in the classroom and the Lecture hall and since I left University, I have learned it in haunted ruins and deserted buildings all over the continent. Context is key and context can get you killed if you ignore it and set it aside."

She was nodding but I sensed she needed a little bit more.

"The context of the fall of the Knights Errant is not a new Empress making a point on a dangerous and corrupt system. The context is that the Knights Errant were sliding in that direction for years before hand and Toussaint needed a change, the Empress forced that."

"The Knights Errant have always been like that." She said, bitterly. "There have always been people that have been willing and able to take advantage of the system for their own benefit and enrichment. It's just that the ratio of good men to lazy greed has shifted over time to the wrong end of the spectrum."

She sighed and the anger left her again.

"What did Guy tell you about our childhood?"

I told her in small details.

"He was mostly right except my perspective is somewhat different. I thought that our lessons were important whereas his lessons of swordsmanship and jousting were pointless. We were going to change the world, Amelie, myself and the others. We were going to drag Toussaint into the modern age whether it liked it or not. We had it all planned out like a military campaign, even though I have no idea how a military campaign is planned out. We were going to marry powerful, talented men. We were going to shape them, educated them and in the end we were going to rule them."

"How old were you?"

"We were twelve." She smiled. "Guillaume was younger and I looked down on him. It wasn't until I had my own mishaps that I… But that is jumping ahead in the story. Amelie and I were like sisters. Guy is correct in saying that we were at each other's throats as often as we were remaking friends and swearing our eternal friendship to each other. She was my worst enemy and my best friend. She was my sister and I loved her."

She wiped a tear away with an irritated gesture.

"What happened?" I prompted. She had the look of someone that was about to disappear into deep memories.

"Alain happened." She said simply. "It is not a nice story and it does not paint me in the best of lights."

"Nothing ever does." I told her.

"Both of us had plenty of suitors. Amy and I. We were both young and beautiful in the way that only young and privileged people can be. Our families were not poor and we could command a respectable dowry. We had both been… heh… educated as any young lady should be and we were quite the pair of catches. But we were young and arrogant and felt that we deserved something better. I don't know what Amy was like in that period but I destroyed every suitor that came to meet me and from what I hear, Amy was about the same in her attitudes towards her suitors."

She drank a sip from her tea.

"Looking back, I can understand why, just as I can understand what Guy saw in Viv. She grew far more beautiful than either Amy or I were at that time. We were the oldest in that circle of friends which meant that we matured first which, in turn, meant that we grew into our bodies and our looks all that much the easier. We had time to grow into our confidence as well. Not understanding that our advantages were born of time rather than anything else, we thought of ourselves as the best of the bunch. So, we became picky."

She laughed at some image of the past and shook her head.

"Can I just ask? Sir Raoul Leblanc looks to be roughly of an age as you and Alain. Where does he fit into your little social circle?"

"Yes, I had heard that the two of you were rivals. He didn't fit in. He is just a couple of years older than us, but those couple of years made all the difference. Before I first met him, I will admit to feeling a little sorry for Raoul. Social groups like ours, Guillaume, Alain, Crawthorne and a couple of others on one side, Me, Viv and Amy on the other. They seem to come in clumps of kids. All of our parents started to have children at about the same time. There was a group prior to us who some people, unfairly in my opinion, call the last true group of Knights Errant. They can say that kind of thing because most of them are dead from the wars. But Raoul was a good five years younger than them. So he was always the little kid trailing after them.

"His parents were wealthy, his estate is vast, heavily fortified and a little too far from Beauclair to be properly sociable. So he didn't have anyone to get to know, other than parents and I understand that his birth was difficult so they never had another child. His parents spoiled him rotten.

"So the older group, being jealous of him, and him being so much younger than them, bullied him mercilessly. There was rumour at the time that some of that bullying got quite intense and dangerous until his parents stopped that kind of socialising. Then our group came along and if I was the oldest in our group, he was a few years older than me. Being charitable, which I don't like doing with Raoul, he didn't know how to interact with people other than to bully them.

"Also, like Alain, he is freakishly good with a sword although not quite as good as Alain, but better with a lance. There aren't many people in TOussaint that can beat him. Gregoire occasionally when the Gorgon outhinks Raoul or Raoul is off his game…."

"Or Raoul throws it to set up a bigger match later?" I suggested.

"Maybe, but I doubt it. Raoul does not like to lose. I've seen the rage on his face when Gregoire gets him and I can't see him being able to fake that. I don't follow the jousting much, but my understanding is that Guillaume is better with the lance, but Raoul is better at outhinking his opponent."

"Did you ever consider marrying him?"

"No, truth be told it never came up. I was always the little girl who he used to tug around by her pigtails to him. He sells himself as this white armoured hero and it always surprises me that people fall for it, every single time. So no, I didn't marry him although I would probably have done quite well out of it. He doesn't seem to be interested in women for anything other than purely sexual purposes so…" She shrugged.

"It's one of those things that, if we could go back and change one thing about our pasts then I would tell myself to take one of the good men that came along. Men that would have been devoted to my happiness. Even if they weren't quite as beautiful I wanted them to be, or strong and brave. But they would have adored me and I could have grown to love them in return."

She shook her head again. "It is very easy to walk down the path of what could have been. Guy and I would never have worked though. No matter how much our parents wanted it to happen."

"My view, having met the pair of you, is that you would end up clawing his eyes out."

"And he would have been incredibly hurt and wounded, walking around, self-flagellating for hurting me without understanding that I wanted some rise, some passion out of him. I would have grown bored and looked elsewhere for my pleasure I think. In the long run."

I said nothing to that. I was just on the edge of prompting her again when she started speaking again.

"Without meaning to, Amy and I became rivals. It was a competition as to which of the two of us could be the most wanted, who could gather the most suitors, who would have the smallest dowry… (Freddie: In theory, the bigger the dowry, the less desirable the woman as the father is persuading the suitor to take a plain and charmless daughter off his hands. Therefore, the smaller the dowry, the more desirable the woman. At least that's the theory.) but the real competition was going to be about who got the best husband. It was already arranged that we would be each other's maids of honour at the weddings and the ceremonies themselves would be competitions in and of their own right. But fathers pay for those so we wouldn't really be involved in that part of thing anyway."

She sighed unhappily and I guessed that we were coming to the crux of the matter now.

"In the meantime, our opposite number amongst the boys had grown up into being Alain. He was a little younger than us but he was a late blooming flower. It was the strangest thing. It seemed to me, and Amy as well, that he went from being a boy to being a man almost overnight. He turned up to one of the regular gatherings that we all attended and in he strode, tall, dashing, handsome in his Knightly livery. Suddenly he knew how to move, how to dance and how to behave, always with this charming little smile as though he knew a joke that no-one else knew. But the attraction was that he might let you in on the joke."

She paused. "It turned out that the joke was on us though. We were the ones that he was laughing at."

"I remember that party vividly. It was held By Lord de Peyrac-Peyran at his estate. A big, outdoor dance kind of affair with lanterns and lights. I remember watching Alain dancing with some lady, it might even have been his mother or an aunt of some kind but I remember that I could not take my eyes off him. He was due to take his Knightly Vows within a few days after a purely nominal amount of time as the squire of one of his uncles. People were already making wagers as to just how much of a boon he was going to be to Toussaint. But even then, they let him call himself "Sir" Alain and that was how he was announced. I remember it so clearly that he finished the dance with the lady. He pulled apart and bowed deeply and as he escorted his partner from the floor, I looked over at Amy and realised that she was no longer my friend.

"We were two young women at war. Where men might use swords and arrows, we used dresses, gestures, makeup and perfumes. We assaulted Alain's virtue like crazy women and it went on and on. With each of us competing, who could get the best dances. Who could entice him the most. Who could get the poems and the gifts of flowers. Who could be awarded the rose of beauty at whichever tournament he would win the sword at.

"Later on, it became who could get the first caress, who could get the most dangerous caress, who could get the first kiss, who could get the most intimate kiss and so on and so on. We had him. We knew we had him. Our parents were open to the idea. My father was still preferring that I married Guy but he was aware of how I felt towards Alain and kept his options open. Amy's family were more open for that alliance and that was an advantage that she had over me.

"I hated my father for that. For the longest time I thought that his… reticence in the matter of the negotiating led to Alain being forced on Amy.

"So I made my mistake. It was a simple mistake but it would not be a lie to say that it ruined my life."

I said nothing although I was fairly confident that I knew what she was going to tell me.

She took a deep breath. "I decided, that to beat Amy to the altar with Alain as my husband, then I would need to go further and she was prepared to go. So, I read some books on the subject and I seduced him to my bed."

She considered this a short while.

"And by bed, I mean a grass bank underneath an apple tree. And by seduced, I mean that I wore half a dress and all but told him that I wanted him to fuck me."

Again with the beautiful noble women swearing.

There was another pause.

"You are being very courteous." She told me. "You have not asked me how it was."

"I have not."

"Would you like to know?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Then I shall tell you. It was painful, awkward, rushed and was over just as I was beginning to think that there might be something to enjoy in the arms of a man. He knew what he was doing. He had clearly already made his way with several women, maids and the like I shouldn't wonder, so he knew what he liked but he rather thought that I would like the same. Looking back, I rather think that whatever women he had had, had been more vocal in their lovemaking in order to pay him some form of compliment and bind him to them. They needn't have bothered."

Her mouth twisted into something unpleasant.

"We slept together a few more times. I extracted promises that he would speak to his father to arrange the marriage and that we would be together now that we were lovers. I thought I had won. I was certain that I had won when I managed to get pregnant. I thought that was it and I told him so, he even seemed pleased."

There were tears in her eyes suddenly.

"Then I came downstairs to breakfast one morning after being sick and father greeted me with a sympathetic look and the news that we were being invited to the betrothal feast of Amy and Alain."

She shook her head.

"I'm told that I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed. I screamed so hard, that my Doctor claimed that I lost the baby there and then. I was put to bed with hysterics."

The tears spilled from her eyes then. "At some point during the next few days, a potion was slipped in with the rest of my medicine that meant that I lost the baby. No-one would admit as to who had done it or even admit that it was done, but I was convinced and I blamed my parents for it. Come to that, I blame them still."

We took a small break after that. It was a sad story but I would be lying if I said it was a new story. It is unfortunate that things like this kind of thing happen all the time. Sometimes it is even the parents that order their daughters to the beds of other noblemen or even Kings, in order to trap them into a marriage or alliance. In those instances, the advent of a pregnancy is even a good thing as it would force the issue. There are records of the families of Royal and senior noble Bastards attaining great wealth and status as a result. But for any person that would condemn, either Lady Gaumont, or her parents, then I would say that they should look to their own house first.

I am not denying that it is hard on the poor woman that is used this way though.

I made tea, found some cakes and waited for the lady to recover.

"I handled it badly." She said. "It's easy to look back at the entire situation and know that I handled it so badly, but at that time and at that place, I could not just stay in my family home and pretend that I was recovering. With the benefits of hindsight and age, I should have waited, gone travelling and found myself some Northern or Imperial husband, but at the time, I could not have faced that. Full of the outrage of youth, I confronted my friend and her newly betrothed husband.

"And I did it publicly."

I winced in sympathy.

"I went up to them at a party, all "righteous anger". I screamed at Amy for stealing "my" man and I screamed at him for making me pregnant. For breaking his word and all kinds of other things. It was quite the scene. The sort of thing that once upon a time, I would have pointed to and laughed at. I would have said words to the extent that "You will never catch me doing a thing like that and there I was, doing it. It was the strangest thing. It was like I was watching myself from behind a window as I ranted, screamed and raved. About how my tears went everywhere and I pulled my hair and tore my dress and it just went on and on and on."

She laughed.

"Quite funny really. He denied it of course, publicly told me that I was a liar and a whore. That I was jealous of Amy's beauty and that I couldn't secure myself a real man. I remember looking around at all the Knights that were standing around watching the entire situation. I kept waiting for one of them to step forward and defend my honour. But I was a seventeen year old girl, yelling at another seventeen year old girl and and her sixteen year old betrothed."

"They laughed, didn't they."

"They did. And on that same night, any chance of me getting a decent betrothal vanished. The only one that was left was Guillaume's family and his mother killed that idea. Either because of the scandal that would be tied to her son, or because her son was already infatuated with Viv,... Whatever, she stepped in and killed the idea. That was the last hope and Father stopped trying.

"He sent me out here to rot away, to wither and die like the scandalous harlot that I am. But the truth is that I didn't fight the decision. I hated my parents for not being able to get me betrothed to the man that I loved, I hated them more for, or so I believed and still believe, slipping me the potion that robbed me of a young child that I could have loved, at least a little bit. My maid came with me and a cook. The thing that hurt me the most was that my mother did not even fight for me. Not really. I've seen her a few times since I left as she came to visit. She stays a few hours at most and leaves uncomfortable."

"How long ago did you leave home?"

She smiled. "Are you asking how old I was?"

"I suppose so."

"Never ask…"

"A lady her age, I know. But in this case, it's relevant."

"Amy and I are, or were, the same age at twenty eight now. I left home at eighteen so that was ten years ago that I left. Alain and Amy got married when he hit his eighteenth birthday. That meant that his apprenticeship with the Knights Errant was over. (Freddie: A period of time where the Knight works for the good of the realm and without hoping for reward. If they last the year then they can start attending tournaments and earning from the Ducal coffers. I will not dare to suggest what the reason for this policy was.) I did not attend but I'm told that I would have been barred from the place anyway.

"A couple of years passed. I was learning to be at peace with my lot in life. I was a remote and tragic figure to many people and beloved of the common folk. They had me down as a woman done wrong by the nobility and as such I found that I was popular. No-one was more astonished than me. I got visited by various minstrels that sang my song. Not all of them survived Alain's fury and duelling sword. So that lessened. I still get visits. I entertained Lord Pankratz when he was here last. That was a while ago, seven years? Maybe. The Duchess exiled him, on pain of death that time, when she found out about his indiscretions."

She sniffed, showing what she thought of that.

"Then one day, a couple of years after the wedding. I was astonished to find Amy walking up my path. I ignored her, just brushing past her and refusing to have anything to do with her. Then she astonished me by bursting into tears. Another one of those things that you just don't do. Wail, cry out, be overcome? Yes. But just bursting into tears? Never that.

"From some hidden reserve, I remembered that Amy was my friend, took her inside, fed her some tea and she showed me the bruises on her ribs."

I felt my eyes narrow.

"Yes. But she daren't show anyone else. She only came to me because she needed someone to talk to but knew that no-one would listen to me."

"Something of a back-handed compliment."

"That's what I said. I've checked her since and that was the only time he hit her, beneath the dress so it wouldn't show as much. Apparently she had found out about his infidelities and confronted him with them. So he hit her." She paused, staring into the dancing flames. "And I thought I hated him before."

"I can imagine."

"Can you? I am not so convinced. Because now I saw it all. Helped with a few hints and comments from Amy. I had escaped. I was the lucky one. I had got away with just being an early notch on his bedpost. I could have ended up marrying the bastard and then I would have found myself where my friend was. Lonely, beaten up, and certain that she had only been married because it was the only way that he could get into her underwear. He even told her as much apparently."

She was hissing and snarling now. Like an angry dog barking at a cat that it couldn't get to.

"Can you understand it? Can you understand what it would be like to see something once so beautiful, being reduced to ash in front of you. Can you imagine loving a person so much that you would put up with that. Because that's the other thing, she still loves him. That's why she's never run away. She could, many times over. She's gorgeous, charming, kind and prime material to be swept off her feet. But she still hopes that Alain will come around."

"But he wouldn't." I said, noticing that she was still thinking of Lady Moineau in the present tense. I know from my own experience that such matters are hard.

"No he wouldn't."

"So, I understand why you hate him, but why do you think he killed her?"

"A couple of years after she first came to me, we will have been about twenty two. There was a minstrel staying with me. I had long since decided that a pretty face does not make for a good man, or even a good lover often and I found him dull, but it is always flattering to one's ego to see someone trying so hard. But then Amy came up, looking thoroughly miserable as Alain was off, sleeping his way through a bunch of circus performers I think? Anyway, she came up with a face like she had just seen a bunch of puppies being kicked and the minstrel was instantly smitten. It did wonders for her ego although she didn't consummate. She saw him as an Alain in the making and didn't want to create another one.

"It took me some time to convince her to try having an affair. A proper one, complete with shagging. Since their confrontation, Alain had become more brazen with his affairs. He was so good with his sword hand that he had killed many in duels and was good enough with the other weapons that there weren't many that would take him on the field and those that could… Gregoire… Who would go to Gregoire the Brute for a matter of honour? Bastard would probably take the money and rape the woman asking for help."

She snorted.

I carefully said nothing.

"People like Sir Morgan wouldn't care and those other Knights that could take Alain at that time, were either busy… you know… doing their job. Or were so old fashioned that they would believe Alain was in the right. But Amy wanted to believe in the honour of the thing so she balked at all of that.

"I was furious on her behalf and I took to badgering her about it. I told her that she could come and visit any time she wanted. That she could keep her lover here and that she could come and visit. That it would be safe. My servants agreed with my assessment that the fucker deserved a set of Cuckold horns, several sets even. She finally chose a woodsman that was working on some logging nearby in the summer. Big strapping lad he was. She seduced him timidly, brought him here and the boy did me proud. I saw to it that he got a bonus in his final pay packet and saw to it that, in future, when Amy came to stay, she slept further away from my bedroom.

"She felt better, and worse for it. On the one hand, there is nothing that relaxes a soul so much as a good hard shag from a willing, handsome accomplice. Or a nice, soft and slow one for that matter. And again, his enthusiasm did her ego a whole power of good. But she wanted some drama with the sex, some romance. It was just an empty gesture for her."

"Kerrass did say that there was a love of the drama of the situation for her."

"And never did a man more rise to the occasion than Kerrass did, bless his heart. There have been Knights that fell into Amy's bed, thinking that they were rescuing her, but she didn't want that, or wasn't ready for that. There were Bards and minstrels that would promise to make her famous, and they succeeded even though they use pseudonyms. But she finds them vapid and pointless. She had a lot of fun seducing the common folk in the fields. The noble lady taking the common lover, but… and I agree that education does not equate directly with intelligence, she found them dull and boring. She would complain that, after the deed was done, they had nothing to talk about.

"But then she met Kerrass. At some ball or another shortly after you had all arrived and as she put it, "there was a fire between us almost immediately".

"She came to stay that very night and made sure that Kerrass knew that she was here. He played the game wonderfully and brilliantly. I applauded that and cheered them on. As I say, any chance I could get to give that fuck-pig horns, I would do it. But Kerrass and she were the first time I truly enjoyed the spectacle. It was fun, it was sweet, it was funny and endearing. They both needed what the other could give and neither expected more. I even wondered if I could persuade Kerrass to stay in Toussaint when you leave in the hopes that… give it a few years and for Alain's sword skill to erode, Kerrass would challenge Alain for the cad that he is and kill him on the field of honour."

"Kerrass is the best swordsman I know. He could take him."

"I took that up with Kerrass once. He said that if it was a fight, then he would be confident. But a duel? Apparently, he looked into it and found that Lord Geralt is one of the few Swordsmen in Toussaint that can challenge Alain. I would have tried him but he prefers to remain separate from this kind of thing. Except when he doesn't but as Alain is long past the place where he would do anything to hurt Amy. Geralt never saw anything that would make him cross enough to step up.

"I hoped that Kerrass would stay, that the two could love each other in the immediate ways that they had and that, in the long run, their mutual fascination and tentative explorations of each other would turn into love. Two broken hearts coming together to heal each other. I am still Toussaint enough to find that appealing."

"But it was not to be." I said. She was right, it was an appealing image. My secret, or not so secret if you listen to Ariadne on the subject, romantic heart was still pulling for Kerrass and the Princess Dorn to get things together. But this would have been a good alternative. Even if it would have had no long term future, Kerrass needed some healing in his life and this would have been good for him. If I had known that this plan was in the offing, then I would even have encouraged it myself.

"But it was not to be." She agreed. I saw my own thoughts reflected in this other woman's eyes.

"What happened, how did it start?"

She took a deep breath. "It started to go wrong, not yesterday, or the day before that, but the day before that. So, the day that Lady Tratamara was killed. Amy went into town for all the reasons that a lady might go into town. I think she wanted something nice to wear for Kerrass that would feed into her fantasy life. Also some food and a couple of bottles of wine. Apparently, Kerrass has this trick for heating rocks that meant that they could be outside in the middle of winter and still be quite warm. Amy wanted to make love underneath the stars and she was hoping to get that sorted out.

"As I say. I was all for this given that she can be quite vocal and if she wasn't here then that would mean that I wouldn't have to listen. I was glad for the pair of them, but I was still jealous. You know?"

Pangs of the past ripped through me. My best friend and the girl that I had crushed on, that I had introduced to him at her request. Her sitting in his lap and kissing him hungrily before he remembered that I was there. I blinked and I was back in the villa in Toussaint.

"I know."

My two friends are happily married now of course, and I couldn't be more happy for them. I was even proud, in the last days before I left Oxenfurt, to stand as one of his friends in the wedding chapel alongside his brothers and another friend. I was not ready for her back then as I was still changing from the boy to the man. The pair of them were right for each other and I like to think that, on some level, I knew that they would be perfect for each other. If I did, then I was right. One son approaching two years old and their last letter tells me that they are expecting a second child soon. I am so happy for you both and cannot wait to see you both for my own wedding.

"Yes," Lady Gaumont said. "I can see that you do." She sighed. "Balls of the Prophet but I miss her."

She had cut out the middle man now and just sat there with a handkerchief in her hand. Saved the time needed to fish it out from her sleeve I suppose.

"She came home early. She had done her shopping, minus whatever garment she had wanted to buy. She put the food away and walked around with the slight frown on her face, as though she was trying to figure out if she was in pain, or sick enough. It was as though she had the beginnings of a toothache and was trying to decide whether or not it was worth going to see the surgeon yet. I tried to talk to her, of course I did. But she just shook her head and didn't want to talk about it. We had our first row in a long time because of that. She wanted me to stop prying, but she was troubled. I could tell. She wanted it to be nothing and I could tell that too.

"I think…. This is guesswork but I've known her a long time now and I am pretty good at reading her. I think she couldn't decide whether she was angry about something or not."

"Being out here, did you know about the Jack attacks?"

She laughed. "I suspect that we knew before you did. Possibly even before the Knights Francesca did. Trust for the new Knights is growing among the Common folk but it's not there yet. They are much more likely to trust each other before they take the matter to the guards, or the Knights. We knew that the girl who worked in the Cockatrice had died, and we knew about the Donnet girl who was killed by someone dressed as Jack. The more chilling aspect of it was that the peasants and the servants almost had a kind of grim humour about it all."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Jack is the bogeyman in Toussaint now. People are afraid of him. It's who we use to scare the children to sleep. Men sit around fires and hearths and compete in telling tales of Blood-chilling terror that involve Jack doing some horrible things to whoever he came across.

"So for a while there. There was a joke going round that what had happened was that the Donnet girl had just been raped, and the man that found her was so horrified by what he saw that he simply decided that a human couldn't do such a thing and that it must have been Jack that did it. It was well known that the locals had been attending a party at the time.

"A much darker rumour was that the peasants that were hunting for the attacker actually knew who it was that had done the crime, didn't dare say anything for whatever reason and, as a result, declared that it was Jack that had had to pop his dick back in his trousers."

I found that I was shocked at her. More than her use of the word Peasant which I have spoken about many times, but her off-hand comments and the thinking of the locals on that subject.

"On the other hand the currently prevailing gossip is that it can't possibly be Jack. They think it's a person, an outsider, or a mage masquerading as Jack."

"Why do they think that?"

"They don't think that the crimes are horrible enough."

"I have seen some of those victims and the remains that were left behind. They were pretty horrible."

"Yes, but the build up of Jack in the local populace means that he would have left behind something much worse."

"Bleak." I said. "Very bleak. That suggests that they have seen similar things happen before."

"They have." She said. "You have spent too much time up at the palace. Things are better now, especially since the Duchess took the throne. But in her husband's time, it would not be uncommon for a group of young nobles to go out and torture someone to death because they could. And then no-one would come forward to accuse…. So…" She shrugged.

"Things like that happen all over the continent." I admitted and it's true whether we like it or not. The stories about some of the things that King Radovid did are only the beginning.

"I can believe it, but we are Toussaint. We are supposed to be better than that aren't we."

"I could get into a longer debate about the face that is presented to the continent and the people versus the real truth of the matter." I told her.

"But you're not going to."

"No. Maybe if we solve this and I have some time you could join my fiancee…" I felt it necessary to remind her that I was betrothed. I don't know why. "And I for lunch and we can discuss it then."

She grinned. I rather think that she saw what I had done. "I might take you up on that. But you are right. That is not what we are here for.

"Amy was not nice to be around that afternoon and evening. We argued, we fought, I even think she might have left but for the fact that she was meeting Kerrass that night. In the end, I took a firm hold of my temper and informed her that she needed to tell someone about whatever it was that was bothering her. That I was a little hurt that my friend wouldn't confide in me, but that she should confide in someone. I then suggested Kerrass."

"How did she react?"

"She was hurt by the suggestion that she didn't trust me. But instantly perked up at the thought of speaking to Kerrass. Then she said something interesting.

"She said "If I tell you, then that might make it real."

""Make what real?" I asked.

""That I am in danger."

""What danger?" I demanded. "Who from? What from? What's happening?"

"But she wouldn't tell me. She just shook her head and I finally saw through her. She was terrified. She had spent the day trying to figure out whether or not the fear was justified."

She pursed her lips together and shook her head in frustration. I recognised that look. That was the look of someone looking for clues in her memory. Trying to see if there is anything that she had forgotten, any hint as to what might have happened and what she might have done to fix things.

"Kerrass came that night." She said quietly, staring off into space now. "He came, full of joy, amusement and that look that men get when they know they're getting laid that night. He strode in with a smile… He had brought a bunch of winter flowers with him and a bottle of wine. But the mood of the house hit him between the eyes like a broadsword.

"He carefully set the flowers down and took Amy in his arms. I remember that she was shivering despite my keeping the fire hot at this time of year.

"Kerrass took her up to her room and they sat up there and talked for a while. A long while actually. They came down to dinner where Amy sat quietly while Kerrass concentrated on something. They went back up to her room where they made love before Kerrass came back downstairs, strapping his swords on and he left without a word.

"Amy came back down shortly afterwards and hugged me. "I'm sorry." She said.

""For what?" I asked.

""I don't know." She said. "But I think it's going to get bad."

""Have the two of you had a fight?" I wondered.

"She laughed. She was right though. It got bad.

"We went to bed early that night and woke up slowly. The urge to hibernate like bears and rabbits do in the winter was strong in me. It always is but that night… I felt the urge to stay in bed rather keenly.

"It was shortly after midday that they came for her. A group of guards from the Moineau estate. I knew their leader…"

"What was his name?"

"His name is Denis Sadoul. Nice man all told. Elder son of a local farmer, local to the Moineau estate. The Moineau guards don't really do much other than dress in the livery and stand around to decorate the place. Glorified servants really, or so I'm told. He came and told us that he had come to take Amy home. He told us why, some waffle about wanting to ensure that she was safe in the face of these attacks."

"Was he lying?"

She shook her head. "I certainly think that that was what he had been told. He believed it. He's a simple man, doesn't have the imagination for anything more complicated than that."

I nodded. Still he might know something if I could arrange a way to question him.

"What was odd though was that the men were ordered to take her immediately. No time to stop and pack, or time to write a note, nothing. She just went. They had a spare horse for her, leaving her other one here. Which I am damn well going to sell if no-one comes to claim it. She was up on the horse and gone before I could turn around. I had enough time to hug my friend and then she was gone. Just like that."

"How did she feel about it?"

"I don't know." I was losing her. Upset and grief take their toll sooner or later. "I would say that you should ask her but you can't because she's dead. She paled, she seemed resigned as though she expected it. The fear fell out of her and was replaced with resignation and weariness. Broke my fucking heart. I stood there and watched as she climbed onto the back of that horse that they had brought for her. I watched. I should have done something…"

I couldn't let that slide. "What would you have done?" I demanded before realising that it was the wrong thing to say. "What could you have done?" That was better. "You could have attacked them, at which point you would be injured, or dead. You could have warned her, tried to protect her but she went willingly. What would you have done differently?"

I realised that I had got up and started to pace around and I forced myself to sit back down next to her.

"It's easy, so very easy to look back at a time of loss and think that there was something that we should have done. That we could have done. So very easy. I could have taken them away, I could have made it clear that I loved them. When my father died I would have given everything to be able to go back and make peace with him. It didn't help that he knew that, that he also knew that, in fighting him and ignoring him, I had become a son that he was proud of. I wish I could have gone back and talked to him, but the truth is that if I had done so, it would have negated what we both needed to realise.

"I miss my sister. Someone who would be horrified to learn that people are now calling her "Saint". She would laugh for a moment before the full horror of the situation would hit her and she would raise her hand to her face. "That's awful" she would say, and she would not be wrong to say it. My last words to her were not anything profound. I didn't tell her that I loved her. Nor was I angry with her. It was just an off-handed comment. Something so… banal that I can now, no longer remember what it was. I probably said something like "See you later," or a grunt to acknowledge that she had said the same thing to me.

"I wish. I wish with all my soul that there was something that I could have seen, something that I should have seen that would have warned me, and warned her that she was in danger. Something that I could have done something about. I've spent the last year driving myself mad, literally making myself ill by going over those events. Over and over and over again, trying to find that thing, that clue, that thing that I could have done to save her.

"And when I can't keep my eyes open any more. When exhaustion finally pulls me down into an exhausted, unhelpful sleep. The kind that seems to do more harm than good, when that happens, my last thought is that I wish I could have told her how much she meant to me."

I had no idea what I was going to say as I started to speak. There was even a small part of me that wondered where the words were coming from. And another part that was jumping up and down, telling myself "See, we told you. You're right. Now listen and take note". I did my best to set that aside and listen to what I was going to say next.

"The truth is that there was nothing that we could have done. Nothing that we could have said. We did the best we could have done with what we knew, and were capable of at the time. You could not have saved your friend. You could not. I don't know for sure, and I say that because I'm a scholar and how are we supposed to be sure about anything? but I would say that your friend was dead from the moment that she agreed to go with those men. I would even say that she knew it too. How were you to know that? How could you have figured?"

I allowed myself a pause to calm down and get my breath back

"You will say…. I know because I did the same, you will say "I should have known." You didn't. You couldn't. When we look back we do so with all the awareness and confidence that Hindsight offers us. We didn't know that at the time, we had seen nothing that might have suggested such a thing. It did not occur to us because it never occurs to us that the horror might happen to us. I cannot go back and save my sister, nor can I go back and tell her that I loved her."

My voice cracked at the end.

"She knew." Severine told me. "Your sister knew that you loved her."

She was trying to comfort me? This wasn't about that. I blinked and just let my mouth keep talking.

"Just as Amelie knew that she was protecting you. If she had stayed, trying to hide behind you, trying to use you to protect herself, then there is a very real chance that you would have ended up dying alongside her. She loved you back. I don't know what she was thinking at the time. Maybe what she did was to take the last walk to the hanged man and try to end with dignity. But do not blame yourself. Nor should you blame her. She saved you."

Severine nodded and turned back to the fire. I had a nearly overwhelming urge to hug her, but that would have been a mistake. On so many levels that would have been a mistake.

"What happened later?" I asked gently.

"Kerrass came. Still expecting her to be here. I told him what had happened and we bitched with each other for a moment that now would be the time that Alain decided to be a husband to his wife. He did frown slightly but… I will admit to trying my luck with him a bit. To see if he really was as good as Amy's vocalisation would suggest, but he was uninterested. Still had his heart on his blonde I think."

"He has a thing for blondes." I told her, leaving out the fact that he also doesn't enjoy women that come on too strongly. He likes to come together with a partner on equal footing. But that's a digression for another day.

"Yes, I read as much. He left shortly after."

I nodded, that would track with what Kerrass had told me. He, at least, had not thought that anything was wrong at the time otherwise he would have said something. Or, if he was already bound by some form of oath, he would have left to deal with the matter.

"What happened last night? I understand Kerrass came here."

"Yes he did. He looked… tense I suppose, or at least that was the impression I got. Like a coiled spring or a man on the way to a battle. He moved quickly, purposefully. He had a destination in mind."

"What happened?" I repeated.

"Not much. He came in. I told him that Amy wasn't here and that messages would be sent if she had returned. He told me that he had not expected her to return, but that he thought she might be in danger of some kind. And that I might share that danger in some way. He asked to go up to Amy's room, I could see no reason why not and so I let him up. He was up there for maybe half an hour."

"Did you go with him?"

"No. I did not want to see if he found anything that would make me cross, nor did I want to be going through Amy's personal things. He must have found what he was looking for because he came back downstairs with a face like thunder. He stalked up to me and asked me if I had anywhere safe to go. I laughed at him and he grabbed me by the shoulders.

""This is serious." He told me. "Amelie is in danger which means that you might be in danger too. Do you have anywhere else to go?"

""No." I said. "I have no friends nearby and my parents won't take me."

"Then he gave me some money. "Then go to the inn." He said. "Whichever one, it doesn't matter. Book yourself in under a false name and do not leave until someone you trust implicitly comes for you. Or an uptight young Northern Lord that goes by Freddie von Coulthard. You can trust him and anyone he brings with him. Especially a pretty, pale woman with black hair that calls herself Ariadne. Go with them."

"Then he left, at the gallop."

I nodded and climbed to my feet. "How did you find out what happened to Lady Moineau?"

"Peasant gossip is a far more reliable source of information than any kind of official channel."

I nodded, I could well believe it in a place like Toussaint.

"May I search the room?"

"I suppose so, what harm will it do her now? It's upstairs, last door on the right." She waved in the direction of a staircase and I moved towards them before stopping and turning around.

"Not for nothing." I began carefully. "But I am still catching up with Kerrass. He didn't tell me what was happening and I am still working a lot of this stuff out. Kerrass does not hand out idle threats or warnings. If he tells you that he will kill you if you do something, then he means it as a warning, not a threat. And if he warned me to run and hide, then the words would not be out of his mouth before I was running to my horse. I will advise you to listen to him. Gather what you can and then Guillaume and I will escort you to the inn and we will send someone to pick you up and take you to the chapterhouse of the Knights."

"I'm not going there." She protested.

"Then they will take you to the palace." I told her. "Or somewhere. Ariadne is a Sorceress and she can take you to the moon for all I know. But if Kerrass thinks you are in danger, then you are in danger. If he told you to run, then you should already be running."

I went up the stairs.

It was obviously an old building. No way of telling actually how old. It had the strange look of something that had started off relatively small, probably with the mill and the river in mind before time and necessity had resulted in more and more things being built on the side. Until it became a residence with a wheel attached. The corridor was twisty, crooked and misshapen.

I loved it.

The last room on the right turned out to be fairly large, built with an east facing window and contained it's own hearth. There was a large bed with the bed clothes rumpled which nearly gave me pause until I remembered that the room had already been searched by Kerrass and he would not have remade the bed after he had gone.

There were flowers on the windowsill, an open book which was placed upside down and open onto the page that the reader had last finished reading. I had to physically stop myself from walking over there and closing the book on the grounds that such rampant cruelty to the common book should be outlawed and punished by slow drowning.

There was a wardrobe, a changing screen, a small desk with some papers and an ink pot nearby.

It was a nice room. Lacking some of the personal touches that I would expect from a personal bedroom, but it was a nice room nonetheless. A perfect little lovenest.

I stood there for several moments as I tried to think logically and clearly. When Kerrass had first come here, he had searched the place. Had he found what he had been looking for, or had he been frustrated.

So I tried to put myself in Kerrass' boots and think the way that he would have. Not as easy as it might sound. For a start, he's done this kind of thing a lot more than I have, and his experience can often end up looking like some kind of magical instinct that leads him to the solution of the mystery. I don't have that.

There was another question to come as well. Kerrass almost certainly knew that I was going to come after him. Or did he? Did he think he was just going to leave here and solve the problem. Or, more likely, did he disbelieve that I would need to follow in his footsteps. It was far more likely that he would have been able to tell me everything that he needed to tell me and that we would move on from there.

Another question that occurred to me in the there and then of the situation was that, if Kerrass had searched the place… Would he have put everything back neatly. If he was going through Lady Moineau's drawers and examining the back and the underneath for hidden things. Would he put them back or would he just discard them in a pile in the middle of the floor. He had been up here for some time, so the possibility that he had known where to look was dismissed.

I was overthinking and I needed to get down to the nitty gritty of the situation. I needed to stop thinking about how to search and actually get down to do some actual searching. Also, I'm not Kerrass, thinking like Kerrass got him into trouble. I needed to think like me and actually put the work in.

So I started with the papers on her desk. Most were letters, both to her and from her. There were several, unsent letters to her parents that detailed her list of grievances as well as telling them just how awful it was to be married to someone like Alain. Some of those letters looked quite old. There were similar letters to Alain telling him how much he hurt her with every transgression. I snorted at these, I took it to mean that various people had told her to write the letters in an effort to get the feelings onto paper and thus to get rid of them. It's certainly how I do it, but it had either not worked for her or she had needed to get even more of these feelings out.

There was even an unfinished letter to Kerrass as well. It was, essentially, a break up letter. Telling him that she couldn't keep doing what she was doing, that even though her husband had betrayed her, she couldn't betray him. That this was the measure of her integrity and she asked Kerrass to forgive her. It was telling to me that she hadn't finished the letter, let alone sent it.

The other drawers on the writing desk contained the normal kinds of things that you might put in a guest room if someone wanted to do some writing. There was some parchment, some quills and a paring knife for trimming the quills. There was also a block of wax for sealing and yes, there was a candle on the desk that would be used for that purpose.

I checked the fireplace to see if anything had been burnt but couldn't find anything other than a bit of burnt wood and ash.

I didn't really want to go through a lady's clothes but sooner or later I found that I had no choice. I wish I could tell you that I found something interesting or salacious, but I didn't. Not that I'm overly familiar with the contents of a ladies clothing storage but there we go. I found her empty travel bags and her store of sweet snacks. I also searched through the small number of cosmetics that she had. Not that as I recall, she had needed that many cosmetics, she was already a beautiful woman.

Had been. She had been a beautiful woman.

I took a deep breath. I was going about this wrong. I was trying to search a room based on something that might be kept hidden. Hidden by someone like me or like Kerrass. But that wasn't what happened. A lady had hidden it, if there was anything to find…

No, there was something here to find. Kerrass had told me to come here, so there was something to find.

So a Lady had hidden something. So where does a lady hide something?

On her person. For a number of reasons. She would then, always know where the thing was and wouldn't need to worry if it was lost or if it had been stolen. Or she would give it to a trusted friend. But I don't think that Lady Severine had been lying when she had told me that she didn't know why this had happened. So it wasn't that.

So where would a lady hide something?

I checked her chamber pot but found it clean, to which I was unsurprised. I checked the washing basin and then I checked her shoes. She had been wearing boots, presumably against the cold and all the outside things. But she also had a pair of dancing shoes and a few others that went with some of her other outfits.

So then I looked at all the walls and in all the nooks and crannies for hidden items. I tapped on walls and on floor boards looking for something that sounded hollow, or sounded different from the next thing. Still nothing. I also went behind the changing screen to see what was going on in there. There was a chair but nothing else. Still, I checked underneath the chair to find absolutely nothing.

Only one place left to look then. I had been putting off looking there, which should have been a clue really.

Nothing under the bed, hidden behind the bed, hidden under the mattress. I pulled off the blankets and found nothing. Pulled off the sheets and found nothing other than some smells that I would rather not have had in my nose, or in my brain and memory.

There was nothing under the pillows but, as I picked one up I found something that was crinkling. Reaching inside the covering, I finally found what I was looking for.

It was a small piece of parchment, carefully folded into quarters. It smelt of the perfume that was in the room and I guessed that the paper had certainly been kept on the lady's person for some time. It was hidden, but not too hidden. The kind of hidden that meant that she trusted, but not too much. That was, assuming that Kerrass hadn't put it there, or that he had put it back of course. I assumed the latter. When he was here, he had not known that the lady was dead or dying. Not yet at least.

The note read. "You do not know me, nor do you have any reason to trust me. But your life is in danger. Come to the courtyard in front of the Nilfgaardian embassy and I will tell you all that I know so that you can make your own decision."

Huh.

I went back downstairs, trying not to clog my mind up with useless theories that could not possibly be proven or disproven. Lady Severine was still sat where I had left her, other than stoking up the fire a bit, she had barely moved.

"What did you find?" She asked.

"A note. Do you recognise the handwriting?" I handed it over and her eyes widened as she read what was written.

"No." She said. "It is a woman's hand though. Better quality than the average man's hand."

"I agree." I told her. "Also, a young woman's hand, the letters are slightly rounded still, and written in haste. There are splatters of ink from the speed and the roughness of the quill."

She looked up at me in surprise and I smiled. "I am a scholar, remember."

She nodded.

"So what will you do now?" She wondered. "What do you think this means?"

"I don't know. But if there was a meeting outside the Nilfgaardian embassy, then their secret police will have made a note of it. It's the kind of thing that they live for. In the meantime, go and pack some things. We are escorting you to Beauclair."

"I'm not going to Beau…"

"You are in danger." I told her. "Kerrass thought so and even if I didn't respect his opinion in nearly everything in this world, I would still think that you were in danger and need to be taken somewhere where your only protection isn't an aging wood cutter and his wife." I looked around. "A heavy Iron poker is not going to frighten anyone who knows what they are doing. Nor is a sharp dagger."

She grimaced.

"I will not take no for an answer madam." I told her.

And just like that, everything changed.

We finally got her packed and on her horse with some travelling bags on the back of her horse which was housed with the wood cutter's family and she complained, screamed, fought and carried on for the entire process.

But she did it.

I'm also not going to deny how much hard work it was to get things done with her screaming at me. Literally screaming at me from the chest that she was unpacking in order to put things in a pair of saddlebags. It was a nightmare. I've never seen anything like it. Never….

Well, that's not true. I have seen something like it. Back when I was privileged enough to see Emma pitch a fit when she got punished for some of the transgressions of brother Edmund. May his soul find peace.

And that was what it was. It was a tantrum. It was the tantrum of a person who knew that the other person in the argument was correct, but was also used to getting their own way. She hated being told what to do and my feeling was that it was a reflexive pushback at the people telling her what to do.

That didn't make it any better when she started calling us thieves, murderers and rapists though.

Guillaume took it in his stride and, essentially, ignored her pleas to call me out for a duel, at which time her ire turned from me and onto Guillaume. Listening to their interplay, I finally began to understand why Guillaume would have hated having anything to do with this woman.

I will also admit that I had thought that her reputation for being difficult was rather unfair, but then I saw what she could be like. The two of us did our best to ignore her except to answer any genuine questions.

We dropped her off at the guardhouse directly inside the city gates, the place where they perform the customs inspections on any goods that come in to Beauclair by land, with orders to escort the lady to the palace. I didn't envy those men what they were going to be in for. But they had the look of that particular kind of unimaginative professional, like the guards at the palace, that always warms the hearts of people like Kerrass. The kinds of people that don't ask questions andwho always follow orders to the letter without argument. I had no doubt that if it became necessary, they would restrain and gag Lady Gaumont to get her up to the palace.

We had been meaning to take her to the palace ourselves, but it got to the point where we could no longer cope with listening to her constant questioning of our manhoods, intelligence and virtue as well as questioning the matters of our health. Especially when it came to matters of the various kinds of pox that she implied that we had. Up to including some of those diseases that I have never heard of. And I studied medicine for a while.

After we had dropped her off, we led our horses a little bit further down the way and I bought a skin of wine for the pair of us to drink, but mostly for Guillaume to drink. He had the look of a man that needed a drink. Then I told him what I had found and led him to the Imperial Embassy.

As has been mentioned previously, Toussaint is a part of Nilfgaard, but because of POLITICS and BUREAUCRACY, they are nominally allowed to call themselves an independent nation. Because of this reason, the Nilfgaardians have their own embassy next to the river in this grand old building that must once have been some kind of official residence of… someone. It had the feeling of a building that had been put into place for the view and the situation before the city of Beauclair had expanded to surround and swallow the building whole.

It was also an imposing building. Surrounded as it was by armed and armoured Knights of Nilfgaard. Their black place with Golden highlights as well as the Golden Sun emblazoned across the chest, gleaming in the winter sunlight. Those men must be freezing in all that metal, standing still in these kinds of temperatures. I have often wondered if there is some kind of training that goes into this kind of thing, in order to help get people to be able to stand tall and straight without moving, regardless of any other environmental concern.

As I watched, for example, I could see a street child pulling faces up at one of the huge, imposing and forbidding Knights. Another woman was having her picture painted next to one of them, posing as if he was some long lost lover, pining away for the man in the armour. I later saw that picture displayed, well drawn with the armoured Knight appearing to fade away with the lover staring after him forlornly. The picture was titled "Love lost to Duty, as it must be." I found it an incredibly melancholy piece.

Guillaume and I walked up to the entrance and past the entrance guards before walking up to the front desk where an attractive but forbidding looking woman sat behind it. She was a stark contrast to all the ladies that I had been spending time around over the last few weeks. In Toussaint, they emphasise their femininity with long, free flowing hair and dresses that accentuate shape and, in more pleasant clime, also show a little flesh.

This woman had none of those things. Dark blonde hair that was tied back in a severe plat that fell down her back in such a way that it didn't move. I had an insane thought that if she spun around really quickly then her hair would act like a whip. She wore no make-up that I could see and her dress was dark, severe and covered her from the neck down. The only decorations were the white ruff around the neck and a large pendant of the golden sun that hung low from around her neck.

There were a couple of small boys nearby wearing black tabards of the Golden sun, identical haircuts and identical expressions of careful ignorance so that they could easily forget what was happening. I took them to be pages and runners.

As we walked in, she looked up from the note that she was writing and gave the pair of us a big smile that dismissed her cold exterior and as far as I could tell, the smile was a genuine one.

"Good morning Gentlemen, or is it good afternoon yet?" She began in the same kind of small talk banter that desk people are trained to produce at the drop of a hat.

"It could go either way." I told her, answering her smile with one of my own. Such things are contagious and I always find that a smile is best answered with another smile.

Her smile broadened a little as she realised that I was perfectly up for playing the game and that I wasn't hear to make a complaint, scream, shout, or any of the other headaches that cross the desk of a woman in this kind of position.

"How can the greater Empire of Nilfgaard help you today."

"I am here to see the Ambassador, or whichever one of his staff is available please."

"I see, do you have an appointment?" She reached for a large appointment book and started scanning it. All a show of course. People like this already know the appointment schedule off by heart.

"No, we don't."

"I see, may I ask what you need to see them about?"

"Certainly. My friend and I are investigating matters pertaining to the recent spate of murders that have been taking place in Beauclair recently and our enquiries have led us here."

"I see." Her attitude cooled slightly. "As I'm sure you are aware sirs, the Nilfgaardian embassy is Nilfgaardian soil and as such, the Knights of Saint Francesca or their representatives, have no authority here."

"I agree." I said. "However, something happened in the square in front of the embassy and we were hoping that someone might have seen something that would help with our enquiries."

"I am afraid that such information would be kept confidential." Her smile was definitely cooling now.

"I quite understand." I told her. "However, I must insist that you call someone who can answer my questions. I appreciate that you are just doing your job, however there are matters here that are rather confidential and as such, it is vital that I speak to someone in authority."

There are several tricks to this kind of negotiation. First of all, remember that it, whatever "it" may be, is not the fault of the person facing you across the desk. They are just doing their job to the best of their ability. And what their job is, is to deal with the everyday bullshit that needs to be kept off their superiors desk. Superiors tend to like a quiet life after all. However, what this means is that there is always a subtle rivalry happening between the two parties. This woman, undoubtedly chosen for her looks, her charm, her intelligence and her ability to cut the wheat from the hay, was given a set of rules to enforce, no matter what the cost. But she also knew that if she called down her superior to deal with the problem, she would suddenly find her authority undercut and that those rules that she was following so diligently, were not quite as rigid as she had been led to believe. At which time, she will be undercut, overruled and dismissed. All so that the superior can enjoy a quiet life.

So the trick is to be gentle, to be calm, to know what you're talking about and get these people on your side. Because if you have the person on the front desk on your side then they will fight for you to the bitter end. Often producing results that will take your breath away. But if you stick your heels in then you will be astonished at the number of ways these people can find to make your life hell.

In this case, there was a problem. I knew she couldn't deal with it. She knew she couldn't deal with it. So I took the problem off her desk and insisted that she made it someone else's problem. She was more than happy to agree. She summoned a page and started to write a note.

"May I ask your names?" She asked politely.

We answered and her eyes widened as she looked at me. Then she nodded and added the information to the messenger slate. Summoned a page with a crooked finger and whispered something to the boy who scampered off.

"If you gentlemen would like to take a seat," she went on, pointing over to the corner where some comfortable looking seats rested against the wall. "And I will have some refreshments brought out."

"Thank you." I said.

The other thing to remember about these kinds of reception workers is that they know everything. They have to so they know how to deal with everyone that comes through the door at any time. They need to be able to address Kings and Queens all the way down to the lowliest, forgive me, peasant and they need to recognise why that's important. Whereas those people that live in the offices have specialised knowledge that means that they miss things.

This was perfectly proven when the supervisor showed up after keeping us waiting for twenty minutes.

"Yes sir, what seems to be the problem."

Now, we meet the bureaucrat. These are the men and women that the nations of the continent run on. The world would not exist without their input and they are vital to the running of things. They are the rule keepers, the book keepers and the guardians of time and process.

And they hate you.

They are almost always unfriendly, unkind and bitter. Because they made a mistake early in their career which was to be good at their job. So good in fact that they became impossible to replace as they were the only ones that know where all the files and bits of paper go. So they will never progress, they will never become more than they are and so they stay, bored to tears, in that same position. Hating the people below them for being younger and more ambitious than them. But also hating those people above them for being unable to recognise their genius. I have known very many of these kinds of people as well.

As a perfect example, when hunting for Francesca, Kerrass and I came across the head of the messenger service in Beauclair. A man who read us the riot act and insisted that he was right and refusing to help us. He was a man like this one. I have met them many times. Innkeepers and landlords. Notice that I do not say barmen. If an Innkeeper or Landlord works behind the bar then they need to be friendly and charming. But if they work elsewhere in an office, then…

Customs inspectors. University secretaries. The woman that ran our accommodation when I first arrived in Oxenfurt. So very many of them. The problem being that they have a tendency to overreach and get caught out.

And this one hadn't done his research.

"Hello," I said. "My name is Lord Frederick Coulthard. I want to speak to someone who can tell us about something that happened in the square a few days ago."

He smiled the kind of a smirk that just makes you want to wipe it off his face with your fist. It was the superiority of that smile. It tells you that he is a benign and gentle person that doesn't really have time to see to the petty wants of whoever comes along, but he is giving up the valuable heartbeats of his life in order to tell you how stupid you are.

He even clasped his hands together.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that you are wasting your time. We do not keep such records as that."

I laughed at him.

"I'm sure that there is no need for that kind of..." He tried.

I noticed that the desk lady was watching the interaction with care, focus and a certain restrained pleasure. She knew exactly who I was and I think she knew what was coming.

His face reddened as my laughter increased.

"Calmly restrain yourself." He said. "Or you will be asked to leave. What gives you the right to…"

There are moments in life that you cherish. A first kiss, the first time you overcome your fear and leap into the lake from the rock, the first time you ride a galloping horse. Not the loss of my virginity, that was awkward, uncomfortable and over far too quickly. But the first time I made love properly and clicked with a partner.

And now there would be this one.

"My name is Lord Frederick von Coulthard." I produced my Imperial Warrant from a pocket. I don't normally carry it with me and I have never used it. I brought it to Toussaint on a whim. "And I am an adopted brother of the Empress Cirilla Elen Fiona Rhiannon."

He gaped a few times… Examining the paper.

"A… A forgery." He stuttered.

Guillaume, who had seen which way the wind was blowing, stepped up next to me and went to strike him across the face. He was deliberately slow though so that the burocrat could avoid the blow.

"HOW DARE YOU SIR." Guillaume roared. "How dare you accuse the Lord Frederick of such a crime. I demand to know the name of your… No…" A guard entered to see what the fuss was about. "You." Guillaume demanded. "Give this man a sword and I shall see him outside immediately."

Another, much older gentleman appeared from a side door and pulled the unfortunate man aside. Now I noticed that the desk lady had been joined by her friends. The new man examined my warrant and nodded. "We apologise for the delay Your Grace. Please follow me."

Guillaume and I were led into the embassy and up the stairs.

When I was more sure that we were alone with this new man I mumbled "Your Grace?"

The man shrugged. "At some point, some expert in heraldry is going to decide what you and your siblings titles should be. "Your Grace" seemed fitting enough for the time and the circumstance."

He led us into an office. It was the kind of room that gladdened my heart to see it. At one point, it would have been opulent and well appointed. The furniture would have been expensive, hand-carved and luxurious. The art and what ornamental decoration that there was was old, subdued and tasteful, if a little martial and austere for my taste. But what it was, was heavily used.

There was a fireplace, roaring with flame and emanating heat into the room. Next to it were a pair of comfortable, well worn looking armchairs with the leather coverings being cracked, stained and worn. There were shelves lining the walls that were jammed solid with papers, books, files and scrolls. The desk was much more ordered, if complex looking. Mostly there were tools. A magnifying glass, an expensive looking quill, some ink, wax and a candle.

There was a large table with a number of chairs arranged roughly evenly, but hadn't been pushed back in an orderly fashion. People had just risen from their seats and left it there. The table was scuffed with cup marks and other scratches.

I loved it. This was a working room. This was a room where people ate at their desks, worked far too late into the night next to the fire and drank far too many stimulants from too hot cups. It was a room of meetings, paperwork and comfortable debating of serious topics that have no clear solution.

"Have the two of you had… what time is it?" He checked an hourglass. "Have you had lunch?"

"We have not." I replied, following Kerrass' advice again. And to be fair, Guillaume had not had any soup.

He nodded, "Please take a seat at the table and I shall find us something to eat and the man that you need to talk to. I am well aware of your habits though Lord Frederick and I must ask that you not look at any of the books or scan any of the paperwork. There is the very real possibility that you would see something that would force us into having you killed." He smiled, enjoying the humour while also being absolutely serious.

"Fair enough." I responded, grinning with the humour of the moment as he left.

A short while later an armed man came in with a large pot that was steaming and a tray containing cups, a bowl and a small jug.

"Coffee gentlemen?" he enquired, setting his load down.

I took the tray off him and poured, passing some over to Guillaume.

"Sandwiches will be along shortly." He told us before leaving.

The older man returned first. "Lord Frederick." He said, holding out his hand to be shaken which I accepted. "So good to finally meet you. Sir Guillaume." He offered his hand to the Knight who took it.

He reminded me of an old professor. The kind of person on the edge of retirement but still vigorous and refusing to budge. There was a spark in his eye that seemed to defy his obvious age. He was upright of posture but his hair was closely cut and white. He also wore a pair of rimmed magnifiers on the end of his nose, attached around his neck with a chain and he had a habit of peering over the top of them and blinking at me with a slight smile. The lines on his face were deeply etched with care and humour while his rich black robes were cut and made for warmth rather than elegance.

"Please forgive the heat." He told us as he pulled up a chair, seemingly at random. "I am from the southern part of the Empire originally which is even warmer than here. Winter is more beautiful, but it comes with a cold that can shatter my old bones."

He grinned.

"As I say though, so good to finally meet you Lord Frederick. My name is Jos Vecken, deputy chief of staff to the Ambassador."

"I am very pleased to meet you." I told him politely.

"Tell me, did you know that Lord Voorhis has offered a handsome reward to anyone that recruits you to the Imperial Intelligence service after you stop your wandering?"

"I did not know that."

"That's a shame. I don't suppose you would consider it?" He asked hopefully. "I will split the proceeds with you."

I chuckled. "I have considered it and the answer is no. I don't want to spend the rest of my life being suspicious of everyone and everything. I've done that and the twisty way that my brain has to work is far from pleasant."

"But so stimulating." He said, answering my chuckle with one of his own. "I told Morvran that you wouldn't be interested, but he insisted and continues to insist."

"He is more interested in having me try to control the Empress I think."

He snorted his opinion of that. "And he will fail. I've met the woman for thirty-six heartbeats when she was touring the Empire to learn about the place that she would rule. She will only be controlled when she wants to be controlled, wants to give the impression that she is being controlled, or doesn't care enough to do anything else. Any situation where those things come up strike me as being exceedingly dangerous. Ah, here we are, and while we eat, maybe you could tell me how the Empire can be of service to you."

A large pot was brought in, from which a rich, meaty smell rose and another servant brought in a tray of bread rolls that were stuffed with meat. A third, armed, servant brought a set of bowls, cutlery and side plates as well as a small pot of yellow paste containing some small seeds.

"They do many delicious cured meats in Toussaint." Mr Vecken told us seriously. "One of the many reasons that it is a boon to be stationed in Beauclair. However, your people have yet to properly appreciate the combination of those meats with some proper grainy mustard. Chicken soup as well and our kitchen makes a soup so good that it will cure the common cold, put hairs on your chest, lift your prick from slumber and wake the dead."

He seized a sandwich, opened it, smeared an eye watering amount of the mustard on it, dipped it in a bowl of the soup and ate with relish.

"Now what can I do for you."

Guillaume set to and dished me out some soup as I talked. While doing so, I could see the Nilfgaardian's eyes gleaming as he ate his food with a speed and relish that would have resulted in my being yelled at by my sister if I had eaten at that speed.

He nodded and took a sandwich over to a particular shelf, from which he took down a large leatherbound book which was then carried with both hands, sandwich clamped in his teeth, towards the desk where he opened it and started scanning entries as he chewed.

"What day was this?" He wondered aloud with his mouth full.

"The day before the day before yesterday." I told him.

"So, three days ago."

"Yes." He nodded. "The day before Lady Marie Tratamara was killed."

"Yes, sad business." He took another bite from his sandwich. "Ah, here we go. MIKAEL." The last name was shouted and a slightly younger man came in almost immediately with a slate and a piece of chalk poised. "Find Weidenmann and tell him to come here immediately. He needs to clarify a report that he made."

The young man nodded, scrawling a note on the slate before leaving and closing the door behind him.

"Yes," Jos told us. "Yes, Lady Moineau was out in the square that day. The report says that she hovered among the market stalls for a long while in "a state of agitation," whatever that means." He sniffed and took another huge bite out of his sandwich. "Then she marched across the square like a woman walking to meet the headsman and stood next to the stone railing over the river. She was there for a couple of minutes before she was met by a younger woman with reddish, blonde hair… heh… slim and beautiful it says here, but of poorer mode of dress. The two spoke for a while before Lady Moineau left in… a huff. The other woman waited around for a while, looked around the market stalls and bought a couple of pointless items before heading off."

"Doesn't tell us much." Guillaume commented. He was red faced having put a little bit too much mustard on his meat.

Jos smiled at him, "Hopefully Weidenmann will be able to tell us more. Ah, here he is."

An older soldier came into the room. He was dressed down in his tabard and trews, obviously a little more used to the colder climate than our immediate host. He wore his hair close to his scalp which I took for being an ease of helmet thing and his sword was worn and well used.

"You wanted to see me sir?" He asked Jos, ignoring Guillaume and I.

"These gentlemen would like to ask you some questions about what you saw a few days ago. Specifically regarding the meeting between Lady Moineau and.." He cleared his throat and read from his book. "A slim, beautiful young woman with reddish hair." He grinned at the soldier who sighed.

"I don't know what I can add that isn't in the report sirs." He told us. "Lady Moineau was in some agitation. I thought she was nervous to my eyes. They met, the…" His eyes flicked towards Jos briefly before returning to me. I pretended not to notice. "The other lady was there in advance, seeming to enjoy the view and the people around the place. They talked for a while, during which time Lady Moineau seemed to get less agitated and more scared and angry before she abruptly stormed off."

"In a huff." Jos teased.

"Yes sir."

"What did the other woman do?" I asked.

"She watched Lady Moineau leave… I think she looked sad for a moment, before she turned, bought a few things from the market stalls and left."

"What was the body language like between the two women? Did they know each other?"

"I don't think so sir. Lady Moineau looked right at the other woman without registering when she first came to the square."

"But the other woman knew Lady Moineau?"

"Yes sir. She saw Lady Moineau immediately when she came to the rail and approached."

I nodded and pretended to consider things.

"And who was the other woman again?" I asked, watching carefully. He nearly replied, nearly, his jaw twitched but he clamped down on it ruthlessly.

"Thank you Weidenmann." Jos told him. The soldier fled.

"Unkind Lord Frederick, unkind. Putting a soldier on the spot like that."

"So who was she?" I asked him. "And let's not insult each other by pretending that you don't know who she is. Nor even that you don't know the names of every person that uses one of the market stalls outside the embassy and even more that you already have in your payroll. You know exactly who she was."

I took a bite out of my own sandwich. The cured meat really was quite delicious and he was right, the mustard really did complement the pungent, tasty meat.

The Nilfgaardian, just for a moment, looked as though he was going to lose his temper before he grinned and shook his head. "I had been warned that you were a sharp one Lord Frederick. So sharp that you nearly cut me." He took out a piece of slate and scribbled something on it, referring from the log book which he then closed, before moving to another shelf where he took down a much larger book. He flicked through the pages, occasionally referring to the slate in his hand before he came to a page and ran his finger down the entries.

"Ah yes, here she is. Lady Caroline Vasseur. Seventeen years old, youngest daughter of Count Vasseur."

Guillaume shifted in his seat.

"I can see," Jos began carefully. "That your companion knows the name. I will let him fill you in on the matter."

I nodded and rose to my feet. "Thank you for the soup Sir Vecken. It really was delicious. Although I think a milder mustard is more suited to me."

He laughed and we shook hands. "You are quite welcome Lord Frederick. And please, forgive the matter at reception."

"It is already forgotten Sir Vecken. I am well aware of how these things work. Thank you for your help."

"Come back and have dinner some time. You can tell me tales of your adventures and I can convince you to come work for us."

"Never going to happen."

We laughed the slightly fake laugh of people that barely know each other and left.

We were met by one of those interchangeable armed guard-servants who led us back through the embassy to the entrance way. Not that I would have spoken anyway in the presence of someone else, but I could see that Guillaume was thinking furiously. We arrived at the foyer where the receptionist met us with a slightly friendlier version of the impersonal greeting smile that we had initially been met with and I waved to her.

Always does well to make friends with these people. You never know when you might need their help at a future date.

"Gentlemen." The Guard said. "Can you find your way from here?" Which I translated in my head as being "I have other, more important shit to be doing, but I also don't trust the average visitor here to pick their own nose without hurting themselves."

Guillaume was still thinking so I nodded at the man and thanked him.

In the meantime, Guillaume walked over to the receptionist and I followed in time to see him turn on the charm, enough that his smile hit the lady in the face with all the subtlety of a runaway grain wagon.

Many many times, as the male of the species, I have been struck dumb by the awesome beauty of the lady in who's company I find myself. I am privileged to be marrying one of those ladies but I can well remember how it works when the more civilised parts of my brain just seem to shut down. I have never seen that look replicated in the eyes of a woman when she looks at me and I sometimes still regret it. I have seen a certain delighted satisfaction in the reaction that they have caused in me though…

Which is fair enough.

Kerrass seems to inspire a strange kind of fascination. He is handsome but in a rough and ready, wildman kind of way. Then people, not just women, see his yellow eyes and become thoughtful. I can normally tell the difference between those women that become fascinated by what they see and those that will be repulsed by it.

But it is much more rare to see that moment when a lady sees a handsome, dare I say beautiful, man and their own brain burns out for just a moment. I am secure in my love for Ariadne and the love that she holds for me, but I still know jealousy.

She giggled.

Guillaume asked for and received a piece of paper and the loan of a quill which he used to scribble a quick note before he thanked the lady sincerely and in a way to leave her blushing with frustrated romantic ardour before turning to leave. The situation was made worse by the fact that he promptly went outside and to one of the nearby stores that was selling carved, painted and perfumed roses. He bought a dozen and ordered them sent to the receptionist in gratitude, before buying another, larger arrangement and sent it to his wife.

Not for the first time, either with Toussaint in general or Guillaume in specific, I wondered if this was something he did for the manipulation of the thing to ensure that he had a route into the embassy for the future, or because he genuinely meant it.

I learned from his example and bought two bunches of flowers and ordered them delivered to the palace. One to Anne with another, much larger, bunch for Ariadne. I did consider buying a bunch for Emma, but decided that I wasn't quite ready for that kind of gesture yet.

In the meantime, Guillaume had approached one of the patrolling guardsmen that were wandering around. Just keeping an eye on things, directing the odd person and being visible and obvious to discourage thieves and provide a sense of security. I followed so I missed the introduction.

"Take this note and deliver it into the hands of either Captain de la Tour or the hands of Commander Syanna. Into their hands only and ensure that they read it."

The guard strode off and I waited for a moment as I considered my next question carefully.

"Alright." I began. "Who the fuck is Caroline Vasseur and why is she important?"

He looked startled before his face relaxed. "You sometimes make it easy to forget that you were not born in Toussaint. Then you do something, or speak in a certain way so that it becomes clear that you come from the North."

"Really?" I wondered. "I am that similar to the people of Toussaint?"

"In many ways actually. You have a romantic soul and you want everyone to be happy and in love."

"What can I say?" I held my hands out in an elaborate shrug. "Toussaint is contagious."

He grinned at that.

"It is one of those stories that everyone knows, but that no-one talks about." He told me. "It is somewhat scandalous and this development casts a new light on things."

"Alright." I said, "Now you definitely need to tell me what is going on."

"I will, but not here. Would it be fair to say that we need to find her?"

"I would say so. It would seem that she knows things that may be important."

He nodded. "Then I shall tell you the story, but not until we have left the city. It does not pay to be a Knight of Saint Francesca and be spreading salacious gossip."

"As I have said before, and fairly recently, Francesca loved gossip and the more salacious the gossip the better."

He smiled at that. "But I am not a Knight of your sister Francesca, but of Saint Francesca, the symbol of innocence and purity in Toussaint."

"You never met my sister did you."

"No I didn't. But I seem to recall that your own early works describe a flawless, perfect young girl that you all but idolised. Somewhat different from the lady you now describe."

"I have changed a lot over the years." I mused. "Yours is a, not unfair, observation. But with my greater age comes a certain amount of increased wisdom. And I look back at my memories of Frannie and I still see that perfect girl that I loved and still love with all my heart. But I also see the glint of mischief in her eye. The way she looked out at the world in amusement and glee."

We collected our horses and Guillaume led us from the city. South this time. I did not have long to wait before Guillaume started to speak.

"The short version of the story is that Caroline Vasseur is commonly rumoured to be the Duchess' bastard daughter from an early love affair."

"Oh." I blinked. "So if the girl is seventeen then that means that the Duchess…"

"Was still young. Very young, yes. Not so young that it was dangerous and I will admit that I have no idea how old the Duchess is or was. But that is the rumour."

"You seem to be taking this rather calmly. I would have thought that there would be scandal, outrage."

"Oh there is, or rather there was. But this is Toussaint and we think differently than you do. You need to remember that when I'm telling you about this kind of thing." He grinned as he said it.

"Fair point and I shall take that on board."

"We are a romantic people." He sighed. "Here is the story. One of the fundamental things that you have to remember about Toussaint is exactly why the Duchess is so popular in the Duchy. The Knight Commander wants us to be able to stand outside of the situation and examine things as they really are rather than how we would like them to be. Sometimes that is easier said than done and one of those times is with regards to the Duchess herself. I am aware that she is arrogant, prideful and stubborn to the point that she has the potential to be actively harmful both to her nation, and to her people. I know this, but I also love my Duchess."

The area to the south of Beauclair seemed to be made up of gently rolling hills, rising into a distant wooded area. There were lanes and small country roads everywhere and Guillaume took one of these roads.

"The reason we love the Duchess is because we hated the Duke, her now dead husband. And I mean that we really hated him. Her parents were not that much better although we only really knew about this afterwards and for the mess that they left the Duchess to clear up afterwards. The Ducal family only had daughters at the time. The eldest was a problem child…"

"Syanna?" I guessed.

"Correct. Given to nightmares, pranks and from what I understand, she had a bleak and destructive sense of humour. Only her younger sister could calm her, soothe her and get her to behave. So they made the younger sister a kind of nanny to the older. Eventually, we now know that Sylvia Anna, the eldest daughter was sent away in order to remove the fact that their eldest daughter was a problem. They could, instead, make Anna Henrietta heir and therefore, anyone that married her would become Duke and so it would be. Up until that point there was a very real worry that Sylvia Anna would turn into another Falka the Bloody."

"Lovely image."

"Eventually, they found their daughter a suitable suitor in the figure of Raymund. He was a lot like Alain is now. He was a hedonist at heart, but he could put a better front on it that Alain can which means that when he met the, now, ailing Duke and Duchess, he could present an acceptable front and persuaded them to give their little flower to him.

They were married with undue haste so that when the Duke died, power could be passed over easily and quickly and so now, Toussaint had a new Duke and Duchess and no-one could be happier than Duke Reymund.

"He was not particularly cruel to his people. There were high taxes but there are always high taxes. He drank and ate and adventured to the expense of his people but again, that is nothing new. But the thing that made us hate him was his treatment of his wife, our Duchess.

"As I say, he was a hedonist which meant food, wine, narcotics and women. As many women as he could find. It is rumoured that the reason that he would not spend time with his wife was because she was too young, at the time, and therefore too naive and innocent for his tastes. He wanted women in his bed that would feed his sense of adventure. The Duchess could not provide that so he looked elsewhere.

"Eventually, some would even say inevitably, the Duchess found a lover. Now I stress that this was only rumour at the time. Nothing was ever proven except in a dubious duel which we will get to in a moment. The Duchess has only ever had one open and acknowledged Paramour in the figure of Viscount Pankratz (Freddie: Professor Dandelion. I still don't know where he's a viscount of and I search almost every time I get a chance) which was the affair that caused the Duke to become ill with Apoplexy."

"So there is no real proof that this earlier affair was the case."

"None at all. So this might not be true. It might all be an invention of the court gossip of the time, there is some circumstantial evidence but all of that could easily be explained away by other circumstances."

"Which you will get to."

"I will. The first lover was Count Vasseur. He is a shadow of the man he was at the time now. Nowadays, he is stooped, injured and a pale wisp of a man. But at the time he was tall, handsome, charming, dark haired and utterly devoted to the Duchess. So much so that he was the Captain of her personal protection at the time. He was the kind of Knight that others aspired to be and would still be held up as an example except for the scandal that he became embroiled in.

"The Duchess was unhappy, we could all see it. Even those of us that were very young at the time. But she would often seek solitude to avoid the blatant proof that her husband was betraying her openly and often with as many women as he could find. She had hoped that she would become pregnant quickly and so be able to bind him to her a little more closely. But it would seem that he would not spend enough time around her for this to be successful.

"So she would ride around, plainly unhappy and weeping. So naturally, she became a figure of romantic longing for all and sundry in Toussaint. We all, even those of us who were so young that we would not have known what to do, wanted to find her sitting under a tree nearby and to take away her pain, even for just a little while.

"At the time, it was well known, on an international scale, that the Duke was unpopular. So there were quite a few Knights that were reassigned to other duties. Namely preventing foreign agents from subverting the wine production and interrupting the cash flow. Count Vasseur refused. Insisting that the safety of the Duchess was paramount and his first duty."

Guillaume shifted in his saddle. I guessed that we were coming to the crux of the matter.

"So the rumour is, that at some point during their many wanderings around Toussaint, where they would often stay in inns, or in farmhouses where the Duchess got to know, and earn the love of her people, that the Duchess and Count Vasseur became lovers."

He paused there, just for a moment, as though he was waiting for me to ask a question. He even seemed disappointed that I didn't.

"There was certainly a while after that where the Duchess' spirits seemed to perk up and she seemed happier than she ever had before. Walking around with a spring in her step and a song in her heart. Vannier never left her side during this period. The charitable say that he acted like a caring older brother or young father, whereas the less charitable suggested that he was watching her in the same way that a lover watches the girl that he considers his property. I cannot speak to that on the grounds that I didn't really see it, nor would I have recognised it even if I did.

"Then the Duchess went travelling. She travelled North and visited with some of the other more prominent female rulers, in theory to cement good relations and trade dealings. She supposedly met with Queens Meve and Calanthe before coming back south and meeting some of the more prominent members of the growing Imperial Court. Again, some say that this was a perfectly valid and reasonable state visit. The less than entirely charitable say that this time was spent so that she could have the pregnancy come to term without her husband knowing about it.

"Not that he would have noticed. He was too busy sharing his bed with whoever he came across. There is even a better than even chance that he might have even thought it was his.

"What is certain is that Vasseur went with her. When they came back was when the trouble started. The Duchess was more popular than ever. No-one could prove that the Duchess had been unfaithful to the Duke and so the Duke's allies, of which there were some…"

"There are always allies to cruel men. It means that cruel people can enjoy their own sense of sadistic cruelty."

"Too true alas. But the Duke's allies found that they couldn't make the charges of adultery stick. They had no proof that the Duchess had been improper, there were no witnesses and although certain people tried to spread the rumour that the Duchess' trip was to conceal a pregnancy, agents were sent and none of them could find any evidence of the birth at all. No midwives, no herbalists, no Sorceresses and no witnesses. There was, or so I'm told, even a reward offered for any information. But they couldn't find anything"

"So they turned on Vannier?"

"So they turned on Vannier." Guillaume agreed. "It is actually the basis of a lot of courtly theory in this part of the world. The Duke's allies were well aware that the Duchess was becoming stronger with every passing day. Her popularity with the common folk was already extraordinary and every second that she was not under the power of the Duke, she became even more popular. She became the defiant, betrayed woman and increasingly, she was taking more and more power away from the bureaucrats. Negotiating trade deals and setting laws and things. No-one wanted to listen to the Duke because the only way that he could be found, generally speaking, was by going to the brothel or finding which eligible lady was at the palace without her husband.

"So they hatched a plot to remove the pillar of strength that they believed the Duchess was leaning on. They found the best Duellist that they could in their faction and ordered him to insult Count Vannier, saying that his behaviour towards her was improper and accusing him of assaulting her virtue. Count Vannier, of course, answered this with a challenge and the duellist, who would never have stood up to Vannier in a joust or a proper fight. Got to set the terms of the Duel and, essentially, dissected the Count with a sabre. According to my uncle and other eye-witnesses of the time, it really was a grim and grisly spectacle. Only brought to a halt because the Duchess instructed Vannier to yield on this matter.

"So for him, that was it. The Duchess telling Vannier to stop absolved her of any impropriety, even though the charge was not really against her in the first place. But the rules of Duelling in Toussaint say that once the duel is over, then the matter is resolved."

"There are similar rules throughout the north when an honour duel is won. The winner is correct. So if a man declares that the sky is bright orange and wins the duel that says otherwise, then the sky is orange and that is that."

"We do have more in common with some of our northern neighbours than some of us would like to think." Guillaume agreed. "Vannier retreated into exile, a crippled and broken man, old before his time. His fortunes took a turning for the worst as no-one would buy his goods or his wine because he was the man that had assaulted the Duchess and made her life miserable and so he became, all but destitute. He didn't starve, he was still popular among the common folk who found him a nice little cottage to live in and took care of him. The Duchess also saw that he had at least some comforts even if he could not live to his former means.

"He was brought out at parties. He would be invited to these things, often only so that people could point and laugh at him. A factor that he took with his normal grace and good humour. And then one day, he arrived with a young girl that he introduced as his daughter. And that was where the rumours really started to take off.

"She was a beautiful girl and is growing into a beautiful young woman. She shares the reddish blonde hair colour of the Duchess. She has Vannier's eyes, but the shape of the girls face and her natural carriage is so similar to the Duchess to be uncanny.

"It's all explainable of course. Since the Duke's death, Vannier's disgrace has lessened as the sycophants that saw to his downfall left to pursue their own goals in other places where they are more welcome than they would be here. The Duchess does not visit with the Count, but she is not invisible either and it is easy to imagine that the girl sees someone that she looks like and seeks to emulate the beautiful, powerful woman that stands before her.

"It's also more than likely that Vannier was more than a little bit in love with the Duchess at the time, after all, who wasn't. I was and I was just shy of ten years old at the time and couldn't have told you what love meant. So it has been suggested…"

"By the same charitable people?"

He grinned. "The very ones. It has been suggested that it's also possible that Vannier loved the Duchess and found a nice peasant girl that looked enough like the Duchess to feed his fantasies and it was her that produced the child. But regardless, the daughter was introduced to the world and to the court."

"Has she, or her father, ever made any kind of claim to the Ducal throne?"

"No. Nor do I believe that it will ever come up. Vannier would not and has publicly stated that his daughter was his own and the product of an uncomfortable liaison with a common lady who died in childbirth, and the girl is too good and kind-hearted to allow herself to be used in such a way. The Duchess has, as far as I know, only ever met the girl in passing. But her education has been paid for out of the Duchess' private accounts. "Out of fondness for her injured friend"."

"Which only feeds the fires of rumour."

"As you say."

"Does anyone know who the Duchess' heir is?"

"Not for certain. I had always believed that it would be Syanna."

"I doubt that." I told him. "Too many people still remember the Night of the Long Fangs."

I sucked at my lower lips.

"So the Duchess has a hidden, illegitimate child…"

"She might be legitimate now." GUillaume said. "It has been a number of years and the pair could have married in secret, or the Duchess could have ordered it so."

"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves. But this throws a different twist on things."

"Do you think it's important?"

"I should say so. A plot that involves the missing heir to the Ducal throne. That's the sort of thing that could really shake things up."

"But she's not the heir."

"As far as we know."

We rode in silence for a short while.

"Do you think it's true?" He said. "How likely is it?"

"I don't think it matters." I told him. "People will believe it. And for the conspirators, then that belief makes it powerful. If enough people believe that it is true, then it becomes the truth in the eyes of the public and there is nothing that you, ro I, or anyone can do to stop it."

I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from my forehead. This certainly put a new and unpleasant spin on things.

"These people are clever, or at least one of them is. The mastermind at least. They will know, even if no-one else does, that it doesn't matter what the truth is. If enough people believe it then they will be able to invent their own truths. And all of a sudden, they have a new, young, beautiful, eligible duchess on their hands. They will use that to take control." A thought occurred to me. "How would you take control of a young and beautiful girl?"

Guillaume saw where I was going with this.

"They will seduce her and marry her. They will bend her to their will."

We considered this, watching the lands of Toussaint rolling underneath our horses hooves.

"But they are failing." I pointed out suddenly. "She tried to warn Lady Moineau that she was a target."

"We don't know that." Guillaume said, "not for certain. The warning could have come from someone else. But I agree that it fits all the facts. Do they know that they are betrayed, do you think?"

"They might?"

"So we need to find her."

"We do. We need to know what she knows and how she came to know it. She is involved in this somehow, possibly against her will if she was warning a stranger about it."

"I hope so, she's a nice girl. The kind that you hope your child brings home to meet you."

"You don't have any children Guillaume." I pointed out.

"Not yet." He said with a little relish."But hopefully we will be able to soon."

(A/N: Chapter got a little out of hand so I am cutting it a little short here. Lots of exposition, sorry. There will be some more action in the next chapter, I promise. Also, I've been the desk person who was given a series of rules that ABSOLUTELY MUST BE FOLLOWED AT EVERY TIME until a customer yelled loud enough to summon the middle manager who then ordered me to break the rules. I've been the middle manager whose job was to keep things off the desk of the real manager because the real manager would not yell at them, but yell at me. And I've been the real manager who had to ensure that I had to keep the customers business at all costs, sometimes to the detriment of others. It all sucked, but at the time, it was that or starve. I am grateful, every day, that I am no longer part of that corporate culture. So this chapter is dedicated to all my brothers and sisters that serve in customer facing roles. Whether you want to be there or not. Stand tall and stay safe out there folks)