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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
- 33
- 34
Whatever the Lord wants to know
Thronebreaker - Battle for the Bridge
https://youtu.be/O_JFLVmgFrI
The guard kept grabbing at her arm nevertheless, but Velita managed to keep her hold on her paper as the guardsman had to carry his halberd as he pushed the thin woman through the lordship’s office and into the living room. The high windows were catching the last sunrays that fell over the lady‘s wing and into the central garden. The Lord had made himself comfortable in a high chair at the open fire place and fondled his grey beard.
“At least one of the female servants wasn’t lost to the elves.” Lord Bearstone had bright eyes that shone through the slits in his thick set face. He was as tall as Geralt and Hector, but had become much wider with age. Though Geralt was some decades older than him, Velita reminded herself. “I remember seeing you on the witcher’s horse this morning. And in front of the fountain at my nephew’s autumn celebration.”
Velita curtsied. “Yes, sir. Here are my papers, proof that I was entitled to leave.” she stepped closer and from the corner of her eyes, she knew that it was Geralt sitting in the other chair silently. His tall sword package was leaning at the armrest. She knew this calm and how quickly it could explode into warfare. She also knew Geralt would not display his feelings for her in front of bystanders. Nevertheless his mere attention made her feel calm and confident.
Lord Bearstone read “A slave bought for a value of 175 Orens, sold to the Lord of Midville etcetera release note and the count’s sigil… dated a day after I sent Hector here,” the lord pondered briefly, “go fetch me Hector, guardsman.”
The steward entered his own narration, “That was the day the Count asked me to issue a bounty of that value because she was gone. The cook complains about her disobedience and she stole the Count’s keys, opened all sorts of doors without me knowing. She has to be put in place immediately. She even pretends that she can read her own papers!”
“So there are some… suspicions. Did you secure the keys?” – “Yes.” – “Hand them to me.” – “But they are the Count’s.” – “They are the lordship’s and I’m the highest ranking lord in this mansion. Don’t be insolent and hand them over.” Lord Bearstone stood and rested his fist on the pommel of his hunting dagger that was half as long as Geralt’s swords. That got him the keys by the commoner. The nobleman hooked the keys to his own belt and handed the paper back to Velita. “You can take that back… Velita. Store it carefully until somebody else asks you questions.” He looked down at her benignly. “Get yourself a chair and sit with us. I think you have a story to tell me.”
The steward groaned “But that’s one of our last servants, she needs to get to work…”
“That’s where you got her from, Steward. Now go and mind your own business, I have heard you.”
Velita pushed the folded document into her otherwise empty purse underneath her apron and got an upholstered chair from the dining table. She lifted it with some difficulties and pressed it against her chest as she went over to the fireplace with small steps. She sat gingerly, spreading her skirt around her with a gesture that matched the noble surroundings but not the brown impressions her knees had left on the white handmaiden’s apron when she searched for her missing twiners.
What Bearstone saw due to his life experience was a cultured woman who had either given birth or been raped to the point she was unable to walk. Nevertheless, she had risen from her knees and taken influence in and outside of the compound. The most valuable bit he gathered was her firsthand experience since Hector had concluded she never left the mansion whatever the steward pretended.
“I think we can all be glad to welcome you back, Velita Gardener.” - “I’m honored, Lord Bearstone.” – “How so?” – “I feel honored that you attend to my small matter. I was about to fire the oven in return for our evening meal when I was manhandled and dragged to the steward’s office.” – “You seem to have difficulties to walk. Have you been hurt by that guardsman?” – “Not like that. He just twisted my arms, dragged me along and pushed me on my knees.” – “Who hurt you then?” Lord Bearstone watched her gaze fly over to the witcher who held her gaze silently. “Was it the witcher?” – “No Sir, not at all,” she was quick to answer.
Hector entered, still with Balon by his side. He had waited in front of the door the moment he had seen the guard drag Velita over the court. He signaled Balon to sit and stood in easy attention. “Do you know this woman, Hector?” – “Yes, Milord, her name is Velita. I met her when I arrived here with Balon. She brought out Arya for the pairing.” – “You handle the big dogs as well?” – “Yes, sir. Dogs, horses, garden, the water supply. That’s why I asked Gernot and the witcher to take me to the well in the wood.” – “And you can read?” – “Yes, sir.” There was no way to deny it anymore. – “What was your impression when you first met her, Hector, was she walking funny then?” – “No, Sir.”
“And my nephew, the count, what did he say?” – “He watched Balon and Arya’s pairing and considered selling Velita to Gernot. He took her away to make sure the witcher had not injured her. Afterwards, Gernot retrieved her and we had dinner in the chevalier’s house. The next morning, Velita was missing and the captain was found dead in his room.” – “When did the witcher leave Midville?” – “I met him just briefly at the bathhouse at noon. He left Midville in eastern direction before I went up to the mansion.” – “Hm.” Lord Bearstone tugged on his beard again. “When did you see Velita again?” – “Last night, very briefly. That was when the witcher carried her over to the stable. After he drove the leshen out of the mansion through the lady’s widow and burned it at the stake on the training ground.” – “Was she hurt?” – “I think so. Otherwise she would have walked on her own.” – “Thank you Hector. You may go.”
“You are an interesting person, Velita.” Lord Bearstone poured himself another drink from a carafe beside his seat. Despite his somewhat wild look, the fluid was clear and did not carry the scent of liquor. Just water?! “And you are certainly worth a lot more than 175 orens. It seems you are the only one who was around all the time and witnessed everything my nephew did before he died. That makes you invaluable.”
“That is too much of an honor, Lord Bearstone. I cannot claim to understand your nephew’s affairs, neither fully nor partly.”
“But you know things from your point of view. And you can read. Can you write as well?”
“It’s been such a long time, I don’t know.” – “I’ll just assume you can.” The lord smiled smugly, benignly under his beard. “Now tell me. What did my nephew do with the captain in that night before he died and you ‘vanished’ from sight?”
“That is hard to tell.” – “Why?” Lord Bearstone asked. – “It is hard to tell without using words that should not be used describing a dead person.” – “It would be your words, Velita. Would you like me to dismiss the witcher as well?” – “No. I’m fine.” – “You mean, he knows too much already?” – “He knows what he has seen. Geralt of Rivia did not harm me or destroy anything that could have been preserved, if that is what you try to find out. And I would prefer to let your nephew and the captain rest in peace.” – “That bad?” – “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What was that ‘special service’ my nephew rewarded with freedom?” – “That was between him and me.” – “I have a writing by the steward that at the same time he claimed that you were missing and posted a bounty.” – “I cannot claim to understand your nephews intentions or make sense from his actions. I do not know what drove him to regenerate a monster that had killed many of his men. It is not my place to question him, but I am glad and thankful that he freed me.” – “Why?” – “Life in freedom is much safer than a slave’s. Even though I am penniless, I’ll be able make a living on my own.” – “By selling your story to a bard?” – “I would not have thought of that. And no. I would not want to get famous for something I did not devise. I don’t want to be connected to the people’s gruesome memories of a monster. I would rather grow something that nurtures or blossoms. Or read and write messages for people who can’t. I will get along on my own. Please do not worry about me.” – “Oh dear, you’re nearly as shut up as that witcher of yours.” – “I’m sorry.” – “Don’t be sorry. I just want to know how my nephew died.”
“I cannot answer that in detail. I think that I was unconscious at that time.” – “That sounds uncomfortable, but it is also uncomfortable to have no closure about a family member’s untimely demise. Please tell me what you know.” – “I believe that the leshen your nephew grew in the basement killed him by surprise. It was very strong, therefore I guess it was a quick death.” – “Why did the leshen not kill you?” – “I cannot tell. It’s not that I could ask it about its motives. It got no mouth or ears. Maybe it preferred to kill men. The leshen in the wood killed many men, but only very few women.” – “The library says that a leshen grows stronger, even invincible by a human female’s contact.”
“I never read a book about leshen in my life therefore I do not have any comparisons. The leshen here was not invincible. The witcher killed it.” – “How?” – “He drenched it with lamp oil, lured it out of the window and ignited it into a fire ball outside. I don’t know what happened aside of that. I ran for cover in the chevalier’s house. There I collapsed and saw nothing until Geralt of Rivia carried me over to the stable where I used to live.” – “How did you get up into the lady’s bedroom when my nephew’s body was found in the wine cellar?”
“Somehow, the leshen must have carried me upstairs. It was very strong and heavier than three barrels of wine, it could not have been be other way round. I am sorry for the vague answer, but alcohol and dehydration got the better of me.” – “Alcohol? Are you prone to drinking, Velita?” – “I had no choice but to drink down whatever came over my lips. I need fluid just like anyone else.” – “I see. What is your plan now?”
“I have been firing on the oven so the cook can bake bread for everybody and our meals and lodging is properly earned. For that, I used that key of the garden hut to get an axe which I already locked that up again. It was nice to have this freedom and I put it to good use only. Due to the way I was threatened by some other personnel, I feel that my work and my person won’t be respected by everyone, therefore I would like to get a good night’s rest and then leave the mansion in the morning.”
“All alone?” - “I hoped that - depending of his own plans of course - Geralt of Rivia would accompany me.” – “My dear, travelling all alone with a witcher – aren’t you concerned about your reputation?” – “Thanks for your chivalrous concern, but I consider myself to old to worry a lot about such aspects.” – “I wouldn’t have said so.” – “Thank you, Lord Bearstone.”
“What do you think about that and my request, witcher?” the nobleman leaned back into his chair and eyed the witcher who had been silent for so long. The sun had set behind the lady’s wing and the dusk had spread over the living room. The warm light of the fire place reflected on the hard planes of the witcher’s pale face. The yellow hue of his eyes was shadowed under his eyebrows until they locked on Lord Bearstone’s face.
“Your request to track down Scoia'tael in the woods in order to retrieve the countess?” – “Yes.” – “I already told you that I am a witcher, not a soldier, nor a bounty hunter or a miracle worker.” – “You just said that you would stand in as a bodyguard for Velita.” – “I will allow her to travel with me based on friendship, not on a contractual basis.” – “Why?” – “She took care of me while I was working on the leshen contract. I’ve seen she has good reason to leave. I allow her to accompany me until she’s found something else.”
“Can’t you see that Velita is hurt? How can you say you respect her and expect her to ride in her present state? I’ve seen womansfolk walk like this before and it means they should stay in bed for a week at least.”
“Folks around here managed to hurt her again while I was talking to you, Lord Bearstone.”
“That was not one of mine. I did not like it any better than you did. I could keep Velita safe for you and allow her to heal properly while you track down the elvish who took the Countess hostage.”
Geralt’s gaze strayed to Velita briefly. She sat silently, giving them nothing. So he concentrated on Bearstone again, “Hm.”
“I realize that you are a witcher with principles: you hunt and kill dangerous, non-sentient monsters. You value neutrality in the squabbles of men and nations. I do not request that you kill a single elven for the crimes they committed against my family. If you have to, I won’t complain about collaterals while you defend yourself or the hostages. I just ask you to safely return the Countess and her Handmaid. Because they are not handled with respect, either. And because I’ll reward you generously. And because the time you spend on that search would allow Velita to heal properly.”
“I will think about it and give you my reply tomorrow morning.”
“Any delay will allow them to get away further.”
“They are away already since yesterday noon. In the meantime, I have addressed the leshen and the water issue, kept Iorveth in line and secured Anne’s return - without a fee from you. None of your concern, just from one guest to the other: I’ll get some rest now.” The witcher stood, Lord Bearstone as well. The witcher picked up his swords package by the belt and saw Velita to the door of the offices. From there he turned back on the noble man, “If some or your subjects feel tired of life and plan to hunt down Scoia'tael on their own territory, Gernot and Hector knows where to set their dogs. You don’t need me.”
The steward froze in his seat as the witcher entered his office with Velita closely in front of him. “Put your hand on Velita again, Steward and I will cut it off. Same goes for your goons.” He inhaled, exhaled while staring at the steward who said nothing, “Did you understand?” – “Yes, sir.”
They left the mansion. The sun had set and a thick cloud cover spread over the sky. Geralt lead the way around the wide stair to the kitchen door “Let’s pick up dinner.” The kitchen was empty, half of the dough had been taken to the bake house already. A huge pot of stew was on the fire. It wasn’t done yet, but Velita filled their share into a small pot. Gernot spotted them as he came from the cook’s quarter next to the kitchen and ran after them. “Sorry, I had to talk to Anne. Are you alright?”
“Yes. Lord Bearstone saw sense when the steward did not. We will stay out of Cass’ sight and have dinner in the saddle chamber. Tomorrow I would like to pick up some fresh bread.” – “Thank you Velita. For everything. Also that you petitioned for the Countess. I’m aware you took a risk talking to Iorveth, for somebody you don’t even know.” – “Her return means much to you, but my words meant little.” Velita shrugged. “Please spend time with Anne. She’s brave, but I cannot tell whenever she saw things she shouldn’t have.” – Gernot nodded, “I will. Something Cass said made things worse.” – “I understand. Go to her. We’ll get along. I’ve to check on the water I’m filtering.” – “Good. Hector is taking care at the chevalier’s house.”
“Tell them the stable is off limits during the night,” the witcher growled low, “and so is Velita.” – “I’ll.” Gernot went over to the chevalier’s house.
Velita and the witcher put the stew on the oven then went around the stable to set a fire to finish cooking. She used the opportunity to vanish behind the bushes safely before they returned. “I wonder where the flowers from the garden hut went,” she mentioned as Geralt held open the stable gate for her. “I can tell.” She picked up the small smile that appeared in the corner of his mouth, but apparently, he just had a silent look around.
The witcher noted the cascade of buckets and strolled over. It was a simple construction but it made sure that nobody on the compound would go thirsty once the rain water was used up. Velita took the buckets out and exchanged the filtering cloth. She smeared the slices of red mud onto a pile in the corner. If it was iron indeed, maybe the blacksmith could deduct something valuable from this rarity. For her, the water in the lowest bucket counted. She offered it to the least valuable horse in the stable, the Brown. It huffed, and then drank. Satisfied, she restored the arrangement with fresh cloth.
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Sleeping Beauty Reloaded