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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 List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Chapter 18 - The Morning After
In the morning, Gernot rose after a good night’s sleep. He went down to the guards room to prepare breakfast for his guest and maybe the guardsmen as well. Sean came in and slammed his palm against Kevin’s door. “Good morning, Gernot,” he greeted the hunter with politeness. “Good morning. Had a long night?” – “Yes, but a calm one.” Sean leaned the halberd in a corner and put fresh logs into the oven. His shoulder still hurt. “I would like to warm up a bit before I turn in.” Kevin stumbled out of his room, rubbing his tousled hair.
Gernot sighed; the young one was sleeping with his eyes open, “Go get fresh water and fire wood in here. I’ll get our breakfast from the kitchen.” The huntsman went over into the kitchen in the mansion’s basement. “Good morning Cass. I need breakfast for six.” – “Sorry Gernot, since you kept Velita from work, there won’t be eggs for your breakfast.” – “How should I keep her from work?” – “You want to buy her and she did not show up this morning, go figure.” – “She wasn’t with me, Cass, just in case you’re wondering.” – “I stopped wondering long ago. Tell her if she wants any food from my kitchen, she has to do her job as usual.” Cass set a tray for Gernot, Alfred, the visiting dog handler and the guards.
Gernot waited. He was looking forwards to see Velita and she could come over from the stable every moment. But no such luck. The opposite door to the mansion’s inner servant’s staircase opened and Anne came in “Good morning, father.” She curtsied, her skirt was hitched up so her white chemise was showing and she had a bucket in her hand. “Good morning Cass, I need hot water and vinegar.” The cook poured a swig of acid into the bucket and the girl went to scrub the stone floor of the servant’s aisle.
“You are up and about early, Anne. Did you have breakfast already?” – “Not yet. I brought Milady’s breakfast tray up and Count complained about dirty basement floors, so I was sent to fix that immediately.” - “Because you are a reliable one,” Gernot smiled, “That’s my girl. Don’t forget to eat something when you are done. ”
“I’ll take care of her, Gernot.” Cass smiled, “Sit with Fabian and me, Anne.” - "Have a nice day." The huntsman picked up his tray and went back to the chevalier’s house. Kevin had put the stools down and Sean wiped the table and helped to set the table. “I’ll just get my brother his plate,” Gernot excused himself for a moment.
He nearly dropped the plate as he entered the captain’s room and found his brother dead in his bed. “Alfred?” he shook him, but the body was already cold and stiff. He lifted the blanket at the foot piece of the bed. His foot was swollen, the dark stripe had run further up his legs. His brother was apparently fully clothed. His face wasn’t contorted from pain. It looked like he had a happy dream before the features sagged in death. His broken eyes were open in slits as if something amused him.
Gernot straightened up, and then went over into the dining room. Hector and Balor had arrived in the meantime. “My brother died last night. I have to inform the steward.” – “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Hector acknowledged his loss. – “He had caught an infection, but I wasn’t aware that it was so bad.” – Sean was dumbstruck, “He was walking around just a few hours ago.” – “When?” – “He stepped out on the training ground, I exchanged a few words with him and then he lay down again. I remember I wondered why he was barefoot, limping in pain, but in good mood otherwise.” – “There is that uprising just before the demise. I’ll be back in a moment with the steward.”
Gernot jogged over to the mansion, through the main gate, took two steps up to the steward’s office. “Good morning, Steward,” he called, knocked and entered at once, “Sorry to interrupt you, but the captain died in the early morning hours.” – “What?! I’m coming,” the steward raised from behind his breakfast tray.
The count ambled over from his office that was the next in the male succession of rooms. “What’s that commotion about, Gernot?” – “My brother died… uhm, good morning, Milord.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. He was in good hope for recovery when I visited yesterday. What happened?”
“He died in the early morning hours. Sean says, he had stepped out barefoot, went back in… and then died in his sleep.”
“I will see to it.” The count preceded the huntsman and the steward on their way to the chevalier’s house. He found his captain truly dead, fully clothed with a bad looking infection on his foot. Nevertheless, the count asked a question in the round, “Who had something against him?”
“Nobody. He was a just man and vanguard of this mansion,” the steward nodded, “A pity to see a strong veteran die from such a petty injury.”
“Who treated that wound?”
“Velita.”
“Find her and bring her here.”
Gernot nodded, “Yes, Milord.” He went over to the stable with a bad feeling. Was she afraid of something, went into hiding maybe? But her clothing still hung to dry, her blanket was there, even her wooden clogs. Everything was there like she lay down for the night, just her bed was cold. He returned to his brother’s room empty handed, “Velita is not in the stable and nowhere to be seen.”
“That is very suspicious under the circumstances. What are you waiting for Huntsman? Get your dogs and track down the runaway. Bring her to my office.”
“Yes, Milord.” Gernot got his belt with the long dagger and a water bottle, slid the quiver with the unstrung bow over his shoulder and donned his felt hat. Once he had his personal routine in order, he went to the kennel and got Adda.
Hector accompanied him with Balon. “I cannot go into the stable where Arya is, but once you’ve got a lead, maybe we can help.”
Gernot shrugged his shoulders. “Velita cannot be far away. Her clothing and shoes are still in her chamber. Whatever outcome, do not unleash Balon on her track. If there’s a hindrance, I will unleash Adda to go in and sound things out – they are familiar and safe. I worry that someone has hurt her or still holds her. In that case, I welcome your help.”
Gernot entered the saddle chamber and told Adda to sit at the entrance. He had another good look around. The bed wasn’t quite ruffled, just like she had risen in the night and walked away. But why should she go out in a freezing October night - barefoot and wearing nothing but a nightgown? He did not make the mistake to guide Adda right to the bed where Velita’s scent would be overpowering the dog’s fine nose. He started at the grate, showed Adda the wooden clogs that were filled with Velita’s scent only, made that interesting and then told her to find Velita. Adda started right away, her nose was deep on the ground as they passed Hector and Balor. She went right into the direction of the mansion.
Cass complained “Take that dog out of my kitchen, Gernot, where are your manners?!” – “We’re trying to find Velita.” – “She’s not in my kitchen, never showed up this morning. I haven’t seen her since the dishwashing last night. Afterwards, she went right into the stable.” – Adda pulled through the kitchen and scratched on the door to the servant’s staircase. “Maybe Adda got the direction wrong, but let me see where this is going.” Gernot stayed calm and trusting. He opened the door for Adda, “Right, Adda, find Velita,” he huffed approvingly. The dog went through the door and came on the vinegar cleaned stones. Adda lifted her head, looked around, did a cross search to pick something up, then snorted at the acidic scent. It was a dead end. He had to protect his four legged mate and take the human rules into account. “Come along, Adda.” Gernot did not scold, just pulled her off and took her back through the kitchen “Sorry for the interruption.” – “I hope you find her soon. We’ve got a lot work to do.” – “See you, Cass.”
Gernot returned to the stable aisle. He marched Adda across any track through the stable gate and asked Adda again to find Velita. This time, Adda picked up a track that went around the stable’s corner, into the garden... Gernot thought it was old, but then Adda passed the oven, passed the dung heap and there, up in the black thorn bush hung scrap of blue fabric. “That’s right Adda, find Velita,” he climbed up to the gap in the wall and picked the scrap from the thorns. It was from the washed out nightgown she had worn yesterday and it was freshly torn out, just one night’s frost clung to the fabric. He told Adda to sit and wait and called “Hector!”
While the fellow hunter approached, Gernot put a marking from orange wool into the bush where it could also be seen from the outside wall. He showed Hector the scrap of Velita’s dress, told him to inform the steward and tell Kevin and Sean to saddle their horses, and then meet them outside the compound’s wall.
Gernot went along the track, climbed over the wall and jumped down on the other side with Adda. He put down the scrap for Balon to pick up Velita’s track from this position. The climb wasn’t easy with exited Adda on the leash, but rocks had fallen outside the wall and it wasn’t too difficult to manage for a barefoot woman on the run. Loose leaves where kicked over on the other side, more bushes, cracked branches… Adda followed the track faithfully and Gernot followed her, marking their finds with orange wool every twenty steps. It roughly went cross country through another hedge and into the direction of the elven healer’s hut. From there a beaten path went to the road around the Midville’s perimeter wall.
On that path, Adda lost track and Gernot wondered what to make of it. Gravel wasn’t easy, but then, it wasn’t dry but pretty fresh. He sat aside with Adda and waited for Hector to catch up.
Balor ran into just the same problem. “Something is wrong here. Like the track suddenly dissolves as it approaches the road.” – “We must have missed a hook somewhere.” Gernot started over with Adda, but the outcome was just the same. His trusty lead dog just planted her butt on the middle of the beaten track and looked up at him as if it was all too stupid. In the past years, Adda had developed that thick-head’s behavior on game the two of them could not hope to bring in. In the beginning of that development, he had been annoyed. He had ordered, yelled and failed, got hurt and finally grown to accept that his old girl’s nose usually knew what was on.
Big young Balon got really nervous, searched to and through and did not come to any conclusion. Gernot marked the spot “Oh well, I don’t search for persons, usually. I just hoped it would work for us because Adda really likes Velita, knows her name and all.” - “Who’s living there?” Hector asked. - “That would be Fredhiana, an elvish healer. Let’s try another way of interracial communications.”
They stepped into the court surrounded by a fence of dry braches that surrounded the poor hut constructed from clay walls and a thatched roof. “Good morning Fredhiana, its Gernot Forester with a friend. May we come in?” He announced himself, “Wait a moment,” a woman’s voice called from the inside. “I’ll be with you shortly.” A moment later, a woman with the perfect complexion of the elvish, almond eyes and pointed ears stepped through the door and closed it behind her. Her hair was inter-braided with shells and feathers and she wore a green close-cut woolen robe with a linen chemise underneath that was stitched with leaves and vines at the collar. “What can I do for you, Gernot?”
“We are looking for a woman of about that height,” he pointed half a head lower than the healer was “past forty, grey brown hair, brown eyes, trim figure in a short blue dress. We think she has passed through here between the forth and the six hour. Her name is Velita.” – “I have been sleeping then, I’m sorry I cannot help you Forester.” – The hunter heard something heavy moving behind the clay wall behind her. “I thought you were living alone, Fredhiana?” - “How is your brother? Would you like to pick up more medicine since you’re already here?” – “He’s dead.” – “Oh, I’m sorry.” – “It was an infection in his foot. That can be treacherous. Is that Velita with you, Fredhiana?” – The elven woman stood up to him, “No, of course not,” Fredhiana pointed her chin at Hector who was approaching with Balor. That made her feel insecure definitely, “You better leave now. I don’t want anything to do with your trouble.”
“Who’s in there?” Gernot called, “Show yourself!” – “Go away. It is not of your concern!” The elvish healer shooed the two hunters out in a hurry.
What the two hunters did not see was a stick some fifteen meters in the bushes on the other side of the beaten track that still had a scrap of burned fabric attached to it. A fabric that had once been blue.
The huntsmen left the courtyard and mounted their horses. Gernot took helm. After a last look at them, Fredhiana went back into her hut. Hector was still craning his neck, spotting a black leather pauldron going about Fredhiana’s shoulder just before the door closed. They trotted down to the perimeter road of Midville and Hector pushed his horse beside Gernot’s. “Wait. I’ve noticed something.” – “Tell me.”
“That was about as far as a barefoot woman in a nightgown could get without help. The same woman who was hurt by your brother, comes close to a healer’s hut who did not provide successful medication for your brother …and if I am not mistaken, there was piece of black leather armor, embracing the healer within the hut. Whenever Velita ran away because she feels responsible for captain’s death or because she is infatuated with the witcher, I would like to check out that hut.”
“Geralt would not take her with him. He would have paid for her but knew he could not care for her on his journey.” - “Are you sure he would not take her under his mantle if she came running to him with a death penalty on her heels?” - “That would be a problem. But Alfred died from an accident he caused himself. And the witcher is long gone. He gave her up, definitely. I can tell because he left things to me.”
“Who is that in the hut then?” - “I assumed she was living alone. Fredhiana is a private person.” - “In case that it is a witcher in that hut bent on defending Velita, we are in trouble.” - “Not if it’s Geralt who answers and me who asks the questions.” - “Let’s go then. I’ll have your back.” They left the horses a good section down the path, split ways and Gernot waited a bit for Hector to vanish in the bushes behind the makeshift fence before he strode right up to the hut, “Fredhiana, one more question?”
The door was thrown open and a tall man wearing black leather armor on his bare skin waltzed out “Which part of ‘leave now’ did you not understand, Forester?!”
Gernot withdrew quickly, taking Adda with him, holding her firmly by the leash. The dog’s hackles were up and the large tabby had her teeth bared. “Mister Rosenfeld, sorry, I mistook you for somebody else.” – “For whom?” the executioner crossed his elbows in front of his wide chest. His black and red clothing was good quality, his curly hair and beard fashionably trimmed, but he had the cold gaze of one who had seen and inflicted pain and death repeatedly. – “I thought you were a guest of the mansion who might have asked medical questions. Sorry for the intrusion, Fredhiana.” He bowed to the elvish woman behind the freeman. “And to you, Mister Rosenfeld. Have a nice day. We will be on our way.” He called loud enough so Hector would hear him and withdraw.
‘Master’ Rosenfeld was quick with the sword, known in the whole district for beheading 73 marauders without a flaw on a single day. He was a well paid long-time employee of the town, known for his unwillingness to bow to authorities - especially once he considered proceedings unlawful or unnecessarily cruel. If the necessity arose, he supported the judge’s questioning with torture devices. He also executed court decisions, whenever they read whipping, hanging or breaking bones with a wheel; ‘Master’ Rosenfeld tackled all the practical difficulties and made sure all was done to the letter.
But in the past years he had filed several requests to behead convicts to get around the usual drowning penalty for child homicide and life-incineration for sodomy. The council of judges was prone to grant that mercy because Rosenfeld offered a discount on this show of an executioner’s highest mastership that was usually reserved for noble convicts.
While justice in Midville was recognized as reliable and up to par, ‘Master’ Rosenfeld was still not accepted as a fellow citizen.
The two hunters met at their horses. “That stays among the two of us. Fredhiana and the executioner, they would never hear the end of it.” Gernot agreed with Hector, “Two strong people outlawed by society. They fit better together than the first look would suggest.
They cantered up the mansion. Gernot had to stand up to the count. Hector overhead it as well, standing straight by his side. “Oh well,” the Count admitted, “You have found a trace but lost it. Maybe somebody took her on his horse or on into a coach. You are hunters for game, not bounties. I’ll post a reward on the bulletin board. Maybe someone in Midville has seen something. Gernot, the steward needs you for the preparation of the funeral. Thank you, Hector, for your support. I hope to see you again under better circumstances. Farewell and you’ll hear from me if Arya has taken.” – “Farewell, Count.”
The hunters went over the court to the stone trough, “Hector, I feel that something is wrong here. You’ll pass through Midville in eastern direction. If you hear from the witcher by chance, please tell him what happened here.” – “Did he tell you anything about his route?” – “Up the Pontar. He said he will travel northwards to Vergen to cross over on the Kaedwenish side. He wants to spend the winter in the Blue Mountains.” - “A very general direction. But I will do my best. Farewell, Gernot.” – “I’ll write you soon. Good riddance.”
Hector moved out in a mile eating trot. Balon was well rested and it was cold. He would not promise Gernot a thing. But he would take short stops at the taverns at the main road to inquire, take the dog home into the kennel, get his bow, quiver and some extra food, take two more days off and then follow the road that lead down to the Pontar. The witcher was twenty hours in front of him, too much to catch up with him if he moved on quickly. But if the witcher travelled slow, slept in or took another assignment in a day’s journey, he might get to talk to him.
Would the witcher care at all, at least hear him out? Gernot seemed to trust him. But then, his colleague took more interest in that slave’s wellbeing than it was good for him. It would be in everybody’s favor when the woman just got lost after the captain’s death. He had noticed how the count had manhandled his slave after she had fulfilled his order to host the count’s own mercenary.
At best, she would be punished severely as a slave who ran away. Like a thief who stole something of two pig’s value that happened to be her own body.
At worst, she would be accused for witchcraft or murder and suffer a torturous death once she was caught.
-oOo-
In the healer’s little hut, Mr. Rosenfeld held his lover tight, “I am so sorry; I have to get to work. I would rather stay with you, Fredhiana. Your nightmare, those huntsmen… I want to make sure you are safe.”
The she-elf kissed her human friend affectionately. “Don’t worry, love, I will keep going myself. Find out about my nightmare. Just make sure they aren’t up to mischief in town.” Fredhiana turned to a trunk. She retrieved an archer’s leather gauntlet and strapped it to her left arm. They parted at the garden gate.
Rosenfeld went into town as the gates were opened in the morning. The city guards did not dare to ask where he had been all night. He was a specter in black armor. He made himself useful as he took the life of dangerous criminals by hanging or beheading, disposed of the bodies of animals and those who had no families or priests to take care of their sad lives’ remains. And there was his addition to town’s entertainment, the nice-price brothel and the occasional pillory for free.
Fredhiana took the straight path over the hillside into the wood, scanning for the source of the nature’s pain that had kept her awake. She saw what happened at the holy well. The ground was disturbed, mud everywhere and the rivulet was no longer clear but ran blood red. Dh’oine!
She raised her protected forearm. A goshawk landed on her gauntlet, looking at her intently. She shared her knowledge as well as her feelings and let it fly to her master. Iorveth would know what to make of this.
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Sleeping Beauty Reloaded