Sleeping Beauty Reloaded | By : dschinny Category: +S through Z > Witcher 2, The: Assassins of Kings Views: 1938 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Witcher, this is purely for fun, and not profit |
Chapter 14 - The Oven is Out
In the morning, Geralt was in no hurry to get his armor on while Velita did her usual chores. The plan was to eat breakfast together then meet with Gernot and check with Lumberjack. But suddenly, it knocked at the door and the steward came in with a request, “The Count summons you for breakfast.”
The witcher sighed but decided to follow the call. Did the count find out somehow that the slice of meat he had bought from the slaver, could probably be sold for the price of a mounted jewel? With just a little research on the pendant… Gernot did not know all about it and it was Velita’s decision if she trusted the huntsman, if she wanted that ‘extra’ after all.
She did not want to be a slave, but had no interest to partake in another war either.
The count had breakfast in his office located on the first floor, in right hand wing of the mansion that overlooked the kennels. A tray with tea, scones, marmalade and whipped cream sat on a little table near the window made from large and sections of fairly clear glass. The table was accompanied by two dainty chairs that were not made for a man wearing armor, especially not suited for swords worn on the back. The witcher opened the buckle of his harness and leaned it to the armrest next to the curtain to sit down with his contractor. The steward poured tea, then withdrew.
“Did you enjoy your stay?” The count asked while buttering a scone. – “Yes. The removal of a leshen usually takes more days.” – “I was surprised as well, even wondered if you did not enjoy our hospitality.” – “I’m not pretentious. Gernot Forester was a highly efficient guide. We will finish up today and then I’ll be on my way.” – “I agree, our huntsman is a bit withdrawn, but he knows the woodland like his own pocket. I heard you found our peasantry here entertaining?” – “A most satisfying entertainment, indeed.” The witcher approved and hoped it would be enough detail to keep Velita safe without attracting the count’s attention to her person.
The count chuckled, “Peasantry is the salt of the earth and warrior worth his salt needs a hearty meal after battle.” – “Hm.” – “Believe me, I know how it feels, even though my life style and enjoyments have become more refined lately.” – ‘Do I want to know?’ The witcher wondered. He did not. Give the guy a new perspective? From a wider angle, it was worth a try. “I gather you have been to war?”
“Yes, I followed king Demavent’s call with my captain and a big part of the late guard. I enjoyed true comradeship as we gave the Redanians a good trashing. I learned to love the scent of thatched roofs burning in the morning...” The count smiled fondly, “We went flower picking in the evenings after battle, had a good night and then purged the huts from the inside with flames. You got to move about quickly, but it works best to keep the place clear until the fresh peasants move in. They can restore the housing on the solid timber structure that is preserved. After half an hour or so, once the binders burn through, the thatched roof comes down and extinguishes the flames because there is no air left inside.”
“You’ve got that sorted out for you.” The witcher had seen enough marauded villages to sort the count out for what he was.
“A leader must have an eye on the treasury and keep the staff motivated.” - “After you killed the Redanians, where did you get the new peasants from - to cultivate the land?” – “Resettlement details were not my concern. But you know peasantry: give them booze once in a while and they procreate like rabbits,” the count shrugged, it rankled that it had not worked for him that way, he even had to exchange his spouse once. At least the new one wasn’t barren as like the first. “Give the surplus folks some land and they will cultivate it. The tricky aspect is to tax them, which is easier if the farmers get a reminder from time to time who’s the boss.”
“What happened to the world order of nobility protecting the plebs?”
“It’s the principle of war. Because the Redanians did the same to us. My cavalry troupe wiped out the defenses. We took helm and even though I wasn’t uptight about collaterals, killing them all was never our aim. It’s the infantry’s job to round up the civilian population to sort the details. As any tax collector will confirm you, stupid peasants develop an amazing creativity hiding stuff. But an army is a hungry dragon. That’s why the elderly have to be put down to avoid a famine; it’s an act of mercy that allows the healthy ones to make it through the winter on the army’s leftovers. Not to be afraid to make a mess on center square, that’s does the trick.”
So the count had thrown his weight around in his past, even more than the witcher had expected from his brocaded, fattened-up appearance. He was part of the cowardly lot that was still in tune with such proceedings of the times of axe and sword. “Be specific.”
“All you need is to hang a major, even a few crones on their knees will do. Make a stout announcement on the main square and the fair maiden come running all by themselves. Beforehand, you position a few guards to monitor from where they came from and find the hidden booze that way. Once the spoils of war are gathered and every lad got lucky, the unsavory part of the population is locked up in a free standing building for the night. That’s easier to guard and keeps the whole unit safe from nightly attempts while divided on a multitude of homesteads. If lodging and entertainment were not suit, that building is burned down in the morning - from the outside, so the remains don’t start stinking afterwards. However the night turns out, the center square won’t be in a mess when the cavalry moves out and the royal guard moves in.”
“I have to admit, such details never crossed my mind.” Geralt had learned that nothing he said would cure that level of misguidance. “But I don’t want to bore you with times long over. You said you’ve grown fond of a more refined lifestyle?”
“Oh well, the Nilfgardians have been on the warpath for more than a decade. Once I am summoned again, I will be ready. In the meantime, I will rebuilt my defenses, restore my troupe here and make sure the plebs stays in line and pays the taxes king Demavend requires to defend the south. We cannot allow ourselves to grow soft with luxury.”
“I have noticed the winter preparations are in full swing. Gernot doesn’t let fall things into disarray” – “Yes, a monster out in the woods is no reason to dawdle with other affairs. Whoever makes the mistake to think the captain cannot tend to the lazy will learn that I’ve got what it takes.” – “I’m sure they already know. You can afford to treat them fairly but not to lose any more personnel.”- “I will see to that and take reasonable measures.” – “I won’t keep you up any longer,” the witcher stood. “Farewell, Count.” – “Good riddance, Witcher.”
-oOo-
Geralt strolled out into the garden to free his mind from the brutality the Count had described, to push down all the pictures that rose from memories of a lifetime in a war ridden region. It wasn’t his personal fault, but whenever he had been hosted in a military encampment or in a brothel, he had profited from the events described. Evil was entwined just everywhere.
White frost covered the edge of every leave, white and grey were the dominating colors. But in the shadow of the hut, there were spots of deep purple. The twines had grown head high and were blooming with dark purple flowers like sweet peas to go with the crimson leaves. “Just one for Velita.” He promised to himself and picked a nice flower with a long stem.
Velita had prepared Roach carefully and brought her out while the witcher lifted his bags from the edge of the wooden platform. She went to get Cricket and tied the thoroughbred beside him as he flipped the saddle bags over Roach’s wide back and hooked the swords package to the pommel. His cloak filled up the space between the horses as she ducked through underneath Cricket’s neck to approach him. He gave her the single blossom, “Take care, Velita,” and she slid it behind her ear to embrace and kiss him, “Farewell, Geralt.” For a long moment, privacy mattered no more. But then Gernot came from the kennels through the barn. Velita broke away to hold the huntsman’s horse while he mounted up, Adda by his side. The witcher slid into the saddle with an even breath.
Adda by their side, the hunter and the witcher rode out of the compound and down Midville to see how Lumberjack was faring with the incineration.
-oOo-
Jack was in the court, his hands blackened with coal. “I wondered when you’d show. We’ve got a problem. It’s not just not burning. The stuff extinguishes the whole oven. Mistress Rose isn’t amused.”
The witcher had a closer look, “Tried a smaller slice already?” – “Yes. But it’s all the same. It is like fire doesn’t want to touch it. It doesn’t even start smoking, see?” - “Place it aside.” The witcher cast Igni at it. Still it did not catch fire even though the stomped earth started to smoke and chips of wood around caught fire. “Hm. That’s interesting. Can we cut it up for transport?” –
The bathhouse owner had spotted the visitors, “Boys, I know you like to play with fire, but not in my court. I’m sorry I cannot help you to incinerate this. When will you remove it from here?” – “Once it is cut up for transport, Mistress Rose.” Geralt promised. Lumberjack agreed, “I’s a piece of work, but if we take turns at the saw, Geralt can load after lunch.” - “I’m glad.” – “If you excuse me, I have to buy a donkey.”
-oOo-
“Where will you take this?” Gernot asked.
“Good question.” Geralt considered to take the leshen root back to Ellander, to see what Nenneke could make of it. She knew all plants and their uses… and had a general overview to go with. If he was interested in the greater good, she was good counsel. Pity the greater good did not pay its servants well. Iola was still in recovery. Going downstream the Pontar meant a setback in his journey up to Kaer Morhen. Stops for quests were calculated, but a big detour would mean that he would have to spend the winter in a stinking town like Vyzima at high expenses. Travelling downstream was difficult because the whole Ebbing was still a mess between Redania and Temeria. The whole area had been raided, survivors driven out like cattle and sold in neighboring regions. Next year, there would be plenty of ghouls there, but no silver left to pay a witcher.
It would be a hardship to drag that leshen root up into the Blue Mountains, but he preferred fresh air. Once there, Vesemir had a laboratory and knew how to use it. If they turned up something valuable, it would be the wolf school’s sole advantage. Fire and fire magic was a problem in their line of work. A dispel would come at handy. He would hate if useful materials fell into the hands of sorcerers like the ones working in Rissberg. It had been hard enough to clean up the mess they made on the Heights.
Speaking of sorceresses and Vengerberg, he would use the fording near Vergen to cross the Pontar but go around the royal city of Aedirn in a wide circle. Though he had been treated with mutagens in his youth, Geralt saw himself as a person and not as a mere product of sorcery. He had a thing for bold women, which had not been bad until he saved a sorceress’ life and found himself condemned to suffer fits of rage and cruel nature. He had saved her life but could not fix things for her. He had not known what he wished for, but he was wiser in hindsight and broke free, physically as well as mentally. That constant pull towards Yennefer in his sub-consciousness remained. Even as far away as Kerack, trying hard to break that curse for four days with another sorceress; Lytta had not worked to dispel the djinn’s influence. It wasn’t killing him, but a phantom pain remained. He had suffered for eight years, a letter here, a present there… at encounters, the old flame could burn high, but it always ended in frustration.
No, her ‘dear friend’ would not come running like a dog, especially not since he knew she was at court in Vengerberg, thriving in what he hated most - politics.
“Up the Pontar to Vergen fording to cross over on the Kaedwenish side. Then northwards to Ban Glean.” Geralt informed Jack and Geralt. What a blessing the past four nights had been. He would keep that memory close to his heart, travel home fast and unobtrusive to avoid backtracking on that lovely affair.
He had to keep Velita safe for the rest of her all-too-short human life span.
-oOo-
They had sawed the root into four slices, wrapped it up in canvas so it could be fixed over the donkey’s back. Gernot placed Adda on the leshenee to guard it and they went up into the tavern for a warm lunch. “I’ll check the forests with Adda for residues; I can uproot any sprouts on my own. I’m glad you release us of the older and bigger problem.” – “I would like to give you my regards. You have been very helpful.” The witcher put a small leather bag on the table. “Velita’s share is in there as well. They would take it from her if I gave it to her directly, therefore I trust you to act on her behalf.” – “You mean I should buy her?” – “If that solves her problem, yes. Her safety and wellbeing is the priority. Freedom is nothing without means to defend or sustain herself. Take care.” – “I will.”
A tall man came up into the tavern with a huge black dog by his side, even bigger than Arya. “Greetings Gernot,” the other green clad man came to their table, “Jack told me to find you here.” - “Greetings Hector,” Gernot stood and embraced him, “I’m glad you could make it on short notice. Geralt, that’s my neighbor, Hector. He’s brought Balon over for Arya’s pairing.” – “Geralt of Rivia. Witcher.” They shook hands. – “Pleased to meet you. Gernot mentioned you and said it was safe to travel the woodland again. Thanks. When Gernot’s dogs come to their limit - that means something.” – “Valor and teeth won’t overcome a leshen, it takes fire.” – “I’m sure there would be more to tell, but it looks like you are packed and ready to go.” Hector smiled, “Gernot will have to tell me. After we helped out with Arya.” They stood. “I’d like to take the front stair with Balon,” Hector excused himself, which was fine for Gernot and Geralt. No stranger should see what Adda was guarding exactly in the bath house’s wood storage.
Gernot picked up Adda, said his farewell and went to the drive through at the barn to get Cricket as well. They were on their way when the witcher came out with the donkey and saddled Roach. He attached the rope of the donkey’s halter to his saddle’s pommel, crossed Midville and rode out through the east gate on the other side of town.
The air was so much fresher on the path and the witcher took a deep breath. The sun was in his back, warming the soft black fabric of his cloak.
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