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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
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- 6
Day 2 - The Swine Herd and the Count
The witcher did not let on that he knew she was awake when she turned around in his arms, slinked out silently and threw on her clothing. She let the chicken out, fired on the oven and when she returned silently with the cleaned table board and ladle under her arm and a candle to light the lantern, it was already burning and Geralt had put on his clothing. “Good morning Geralt,” she kissed his cheek, got her brush and comb and knelt behind him to groom his hair. “What’s your plan for the day?”
“Survey the death book, make sure the steward supplies you with clothing and then go hunting with Gernot. First stop will be at the swine herd. Depending on what I find out, we will set a trap or bait and go for another look-out.” Geralt shrugged. “What about you?”
“Take the eggs into the kitchen, prepare breakfast, and see to the water supply. Laundry. Get the groceries for the cook, sow spinach. Shred and salten about two hundred cabbage heads... oh well, I’ll see how far I’ll get,” she patted his shoulder lightly, “Ham’n’eggs again?”
“Sure.” And out she was, her own hair pinned into a simple knot with a branch underneath the scarf. He luxuriated in another stretch, then folded and tied his blanket to his saddle and went to prepare Roach. “She reminds me that witchers enjoy a laid back life style.” The captain’s grey horse in the neighboring partition moved around and huffed. Apparently, it was healing well.
Meanwhile, Velita went into the kitchen with the eggs and fresh herbs the kitchen usually required. And Cass had order for her while she filled hot water into her tankard: “Velita, look on the shelf at the door: there is the clothing the witcher requires you to wear. There is also bread and ham for his breakfast and a lunch package with roast and apples. Afterwards, you prepare another potion for the Captain. He requires you to wash his foot and apply it. The witcher said that he might want to watch you while you do so, therefore have it ready before he leaves.” - “Did Sir Geralt say so?” – “The steward’s request, now get decent.”
Velita curtsied, took her stuff and returned to make breakfast. Geralt came out of Roach’s partition and closed the stable gate behind her, loaded as she was. “I got the clothing already,” she beamed, dropped the package on the bed, swung the basket over the oven and kicked the stool in the center of the room to start breakfast.
“Breakfast can wait until you’re dressed.” He set the package on the stool for her and longed on the bed. – “I thought the idea was to make me decent?” she arched a brow. The wrapping turned out to be a thread bare mantle. Inside was a yellowed linen chemise with fine folding that ended in a high collar and one of the cook’s old dresses so big, she nearly fit in twice. The garment had as many holes as patches. A belt and other accessories were missing completely? At least there was a pair of woolen socks that would feel really good in her wooden clocks.
Geralt watched her intently, not just the moment when she shimmied out of her skimpy dress that could now become a night gown again. She shook out the chemise and the wrinkled lump of fabric became a cloud of crisp folds that covered her from chin to wrists and ankles. She tied it neatly around her mid and it became an insulation layer under the sleeveless wool robe. Once she arranged the excess fabric of the sleeveless robe into folds at her sides and secured the fit by tying a rope around her mid twice, it was neither beautiful nor fashionable, but modest and looked like she could work in it. “Don’t worry, I can adjust that.” She poured him tea and turned to make breakfast without ado. Vanity wasn’t one of her concerns. “The cook said that the captain required another portion and asked me to apply it before you leave for the day. You were interested yesterday; would you like to see the plant it is made of?”
“I’ll accompany you.” His gaze fixed on her as she set the pan on the make-shift table. It smelled good, but he did not start eating, just turned the utensils she had placed for him and pushed the cup over to her. He had his own travelling set ready. “Please eat with me Velita. We both have a long day ahead.”
“True,” she smiled, filled the second cup and knelt at the table to eat a slice of bread packed with ham and scrambled eggs. She invited Geralt to follow her into the garden. In a sunny spot at the stone foundation of the stable grew aloe. She used a ceramic shard to cut a fatty leaf off the plant. Jelly dropped out. “That’s the basis I use. It is good against burns as well.” – “They don’t allow you a kitchen knife?” – “Under supervision, sometimes. The iron garden tools are in the hut at the wall there. The Steward and Gernot have the keys.” – “You told of something new you planted there, may I see?” – “Yes, I’m curious how the seedlings passed the night.” she filled a can with rain water at the tub and walked along the garden path. “Here they are, oh great, they didn’t mind my replanting.” The reddish sprouts had grown into longer twines, developed additional leaves.
“What’s that good for?” To the witcher, that didn’t look quite normal and again, his pendant started to vibrate.
“I don’t even recognize the plant so far. Since they sprouted up behind the stable, maybe someone dropped beans of sort while sorting seeds on the work bench. Geralt concluded that Velita knew nothing about it. She saw no danger and guided the twines to little sticks that would guide the rapid growth up the wall of the hut. “The underside of the red leaves is covered in pelt. Maybe they are hardy. I’ll find out.” He said nothing. “Don’t you like them?” she inquired.
“The leshen activity in the surrounding woods has made me suspicious of any strange plant growth.”
“I understand that you look closely. Compared with the piece of root you showed me, those sprouts are very different in color and rooted in the ground like a plant should be. I don’t see any parallels to the tentacle-rubber-ball monster you described.”
He had to admit that Nenneke had stranger specimens in her collection. “And you are going to watch and care for it,” he concluded.
“Of course I do.” Velita stood and shook the wrinkles from her skirts like she had never been without. “I won’t judge it by the seedling but let it grow and see what it becomes. Maybe it’s good for something. Winter is coming and fresh sprouts are a rarity. That’s why we have to prepare coleslaw today.” They walked back to the stable, “I’m going to complete the potion while you meet the steward. The cook mentioned that you are going to watch me apply it?”
“I requested the captain to ask for my approval before sending you on errands. I will accompany you since he has difficulties to understand that.” He armored up and went over to the main house. The steward moved his breakfast tray aside and opened the dead book instead.
Meanwhile, Velita had peeled and cut the aloe into jelly bits she stomped into a paste with other herbal ingredients. It turned to a paste of yellow hue and appealing scent. Then she got water for the horses and washed the dishes, scrubbing the huge pot the carriers had taken to the work table behind the stable for her. At the far end of the garden, behind the dung heap, a black thorn bush had grown into the compound wall. It was covered in frosted blue berries. Velita broke off a thorny branch and took it inside with the clean dishes. She had a bowl with lukewarm water, cloth and the potion ready when Geralt came out of the main house and beckoned her over.
“Nice,” the witcher commented and led the way into the cavaliers’ house. “Good morning Alfred. How’s the foot?” – “I expect Velita.” – “to do what?” – “to wash it and reapply fresh salve.” – “say again.” – “I need Velita to wash my foot and then put salve on it.” - Silence stretched until the witcher prompted “Go on, complete your request.” – “at once!” The witcher looked down at him patiently yet unmovable as a mountain. Until the captain remembered the magic word, “Please?” -That moved the witcher to the side and the slave he had requested stepped through the door. “Velita, would you. Please. come in and care for Alfred’s foot?” – “Yes, Sir Geralt,” she curtseyed to the mercenary, knelt in front of the captain and set the bowl down.
The captain sat on the edge of his bed bowlegged and put the injured foot into the water. “She’s gentler handed than you, witcher,” he commented, “and that modest decorum suits her better than the tantrums she gave us in the past. You broke her in well.”
“I treat her with respect, that’s all.”
Velita just let it go over her head, washed the dried jelly off gently, spread the cloth over her knees, lifted the captain’s heavy ankle on the cloth and moved the bowl aside to dapple the bruised skin dry. She applied the salve in a thick layer with gentle movements. The splintered black thorns would not break her dry and undamaged skin, but with the captain’s full weight coming on the damaged and soaked skin, it would be a different effect.
“Good, Velita. I like your respectful side. I will give it a ride once the witcher has completed his task.”
Velita set his foot down undisturbed, wiped the remaining jelly off her hands, picked up the bowl with the dirty water and stood. “Captain, Sir Geralt,” she curtsied and left.
“Good little whore.”
“Will you accompany us into the woods today?” The witcher invited, “We could do with some armored reinforcements.”
“Later maybe. I have to see to my horse first and have the tack repaired. You don’t mind me asking Velita to do some leather works for me, do you?”
“I do mind. She has other tasks on her hands already.”
“Then I’ll have to ask the Count, if he would lend his tack to me and let Velita saddle my horse, so I can fulfill your request.”
“It was just an invite. Stay in bed, Alfred, and cure your foot.”
“Have a nice day, Witcher.”
-oOo-
Meanwhile, Velita had brought out Roach and was working on Cricket. Geralt came in to pick up the tack, saddle bags and the additional sword sheath. “No more tasks by the captain today,” he informed her, “Pity he denied to accompany us, using his damaged tack as an excuse. In his armor, he would be the best monster bait available: a destructive iron bucket that moves.”
“He better stays down, or his foot might take much longer to heal than you suggested.” Velita said in such a gravelly voice, the Geralt’s amber gaze locked on her immediately, “There could be complications so bad that he won’t get his foot into a stirrup again to have that …ride after your left.”
Swiftly and silently, the witcher placed the saddle bags over the wooden divider and entered Cricket’s partition, enfolding her in his arms. “I’m not leaving, Velita.”
“I am thankful for your help today. I have taken a sensible measure because I do not want his ugly remarks to tie you to this place.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ve discovered many advantages that keep me here.”
Gernot had entered the stable to find out what’s taking so long with Cricket. He cleared his throat. “Everything alright?”
“Yes, Gernot, just wrapping things up,” Geralt turned to pick up his saddle bags and let Velita pass to take Cricket out.
Gernot sidled up with her “You look good today,” he smiled “I’ve had word with the Steward, the boys will help you with the coleslaw shredding.”
“That’s good. I got plenty of laundry and I have no clue how the water supply is redirected into the stable for the winter. I have to empty the stone trough before it freezes up. Does the Steward know how to do it?”
“I do and I’ve got the keys as well. I will show you when we come home.” Gernot tied a large horn to the saddle, picked up his line of dogs and Velita held Cricket for him to mount up.
The two hunters left the compound and Velita closed the main gate to keep the chicken in the court.
-oOo-
Velita went over to the stable. She gathered the dirty cloths and changed the sheet. She felt warm, relaxed and happy when she went over to laundry room in the basement of the mansion. She met Anne who did similar chores for the countess. They stretched the laundered sheets and hung them up as the door opened and the count strode in like he did that every day. “Milord,” the servants curtsied in shocked surprise, but waited to be addressed.
“Woman, saddle my horse.” – “Right away, milord.” Velita exchanged a glimpse with Anne who would take over for her. The count followed her out of the basement, so the request wasn’t just a fake to steal time with the countess’ child attendant. The time she needed to saddle his fox stallion, he spent in the courtyard, walking around the trough and then examined the huge brown ceramic pots the carriers brought up from the cellar to be washed before the refill.
Velita brought out the horse and the count approached, taking the reins from her. He mounted up and while Yun jumped to open the main gate, the count looked down at her intently. She felt like his eyes peeled off every layer, every fold of clothing she had acquired with Geralt’s help. But he made no comment; he just smirked, like he was looking forwards to something. He nudged the stallion into a light canter before he even reached the gate. Yun closed it behind him. “What was this about?” – “I don’t know,” Velita whispered, “he didn’t say a thing.”
The count cantered diagonally over the frosty meadow uphill to the edge of the wood that covered the northern hill top, stretched downhill on the other side and covered the landscape on both sides of the main road. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and mud that stretched all around the swine herd’s hut. The herd nearly fell over his feet as he saw the third visitor in two weeks. The count himself! “Milord, what honor! Is there anything I can I do for you?” – “Tell me what the witcher wanted.”
“He asked if I had seen the monster. No, I said. If I had lost pigs to the monster. No I said, I count every evening. Gernot asked if I felt safe. No, I said, the monster killed so many in the woods, where I work, I see and help with the dead. If the monster attacks, my whole herd would be dead as well and then Milord would be so angry.”
“What was the conclusion?”
“Con…clu, please?”
“What do you need to protect your pigs?”
“I asked if we could sleep in the horse stable, behind the wall at night, to be safe. Gernot said, he asks. The witcher said nothing, just stared at me with those yellow eyes.”
“That’s what the butcher does best.” The count looked around the little hut, “You said you gathered the dead. Did you gather pieces of the monster as well?” – “No Milord. I see no monster, just dead men and dead horses. I also gathered weapons and tack, but I put all that on the wagon. Gernot took the wagon to the mansion. Nothing of that is here.”
“How do you feed your pigs in winter?”
“Same as in summer. We go out, the pigs dig up their food themselves. I don’t need food for them in the horse stable, just shelter.”
“Hm. Can you chop wood?” – “Of course Milord. But I’m not allowed to heat with lumber, only gathered wood. That pile there, I got most I need. But if your lordship allows me to move into the horse stable, I would chop wood, five hours per week.”
“I will speak with the steward and see what we can do for you.” The count ran his eager eyes over the bundled branches, seeking for the sage green of the monster’s tentacles. And indeed, the herd had picked up a piece and stored it underneath the roof’s overhang to dry. “Aren’t you going to feed the pigs today?”
“Of course, Milord,” the herd bowed as he realized that his talk with the count was over, “right away.” He locked up his hut, got a stick with a small iron shovel at one end and opened the gate. The Fox stallion got agitated by the pig heard passing by like a wave of grunting and shoving round backs. The count strode through the mud to calm his horse and waited for the herd to vanish in the wood. Then he secured the tentacle piece and hid it in his saddle bag.
Whistling a happy tune, he rode into Midville to speak with the constable and address the problem the steward had dropped on his table. The mansion was in need of new guardsmen. It would need some negotiations until the constable assigned him two of his city guards and offered to send him more candidates for hire.
Back at the mansion, the barn was covered in with boxed heads of cabbage. The older of his wife’s carriers hurried over to the basement with a large ceramic tub, one of the twins shaved a cabbage into another pot while the other had a big knife in his hand and cut away the outer leaves. Apparently, security was taking the backseat when it came to winter preparation. But he would see about that, too. The slave woman had tied the arms of her chemise up, mixed the coleslaw with salt and spices and stomped it into the ceramic pot with deft movements and squelching sounds as the sliced vegetable took salt and lost moisture. “Jun, this one’s almost full, can you hand me the weights and a cover?” Whoever had dared to give his slave clothing and covered up that ass, he liked how her skirt shook rhythmically around her hips, highlighting every firm shove.
The count resurfaced from the fantasy he was entertaining and dismounted. The saddle horn rubbed against his erection pleasingly even though he was just starting the fun. “Woman, get my horse into the stable.” She came running, took the reins and curtsied, “Yes, Milord.” He smiled down at her benignly, and then went for the wine cellar to take measurement and prepare his next steps.
Around lunchtime, the two pedestrian city guards arrived at the mansion and were greeted by the steward who showed them their quarters in the cavalier’s house. The cook complained that she had to take their out lunch to the guard’s dining room but saw sense that Velita had her hands full in the barn. She put the pot and bread onto the oak table and announced “Dinner can be picked up half past seven, but only if one you brought the dishes down into the kitchen. And don’t forget to serve your captain in his room.”
“He isn’t our captain.” The older city guard complained, “We get our orders from the constable.”
“He’s your housemate and as long as you want to eat my food, you’re going to feed him first, keep this house clean and take his done dishes down into my kitchen as well,” she glared down at them briefly, then left.
“Boah,” the younger city guard, “what a fat harpy. What happened to the juicy opportunities here that save pretty pennies at the brothel?” The older guard shrugged. “Maybe they just liked to brag… or their taste was misguided.”
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Sleeping Beauty Reloaded