Stephen Hulin

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Stephen Hulin Page 27

by Andrzej Sapkowski


  Then, recited Ravenga, modulating his voice, like an experienced speaker, they will be served with meat tenderloin with white sauce and capers, eggs, mustard, swans legs with honey, capons lined with bacon, quail with quince jam, baked doves, as well as a pie of sheep’s liver and barely porridge. Salad and all kinds of vegetables. Then, caramel and nougat biscuits, roasted chestnuts, jams and marmalades. Wines from Toussaint, of course, would be served without interruption and continuously.

  Ravenga described everything so vividly, that their mouth’s watered. Geralt doubted, however, that he would be able to try any of the extensive menu. At this wedding, he was by no means a guest. He was in a worse position that the rushing pages, who always managed to grab something from the meals being past about, or at least put a finger in a cream sauce or pate.

  The main place of celebration was a palace park, once the temple garden, the Kings of Kerack had rebuilt and expanded it, mainly, colonnades and rotundas. Today, among the trees and buildings had been arranged many beautiful pavilions, as protection from the sun and heat. Where guest were already gathering in a crowd. There were not to be too many, a total of about two hundred. The list, according to rumours, accounted for the King himself, and invitations to only his very favourites, the most elite. These elite, as it turned out, counted mainly Belohun’s relatives and in-laws. In addition, they had invited the local elite and the cream of society: the key officials, the rich local and foreign businessmen and diplomats, those pretending not to be commercial spies attached to neighbouring countries. The list also contained quite a large group of sycophants, flatterers and masters of kissing the monarch’s ass without soap.

  Near one of the side entrances to the palace appeared Prince Egmund, dressed in a black coat with rich silver and gold embroidery. He was accompanied by several young men. They all had long, curly hair, and were dressed in the latest fashion trends in cotton padded doublets and tight pants with a strongly protruding pouch for their genitals. Geralt did not like them. Not only because of the scornful looks they threw at his clothes. But they reminded him of Sorel Degerlund.

  When the prince saw the Instigator and the Witcher, he immediately dismissed his entourage. Leaving only one individual. His hair was short and his pants normal.

  However, Geralt did not like him. He had strange eye. And his gaze was unpleasant.

  Geralt bowed to the prince. The prince, of course, did not bow back.

  ‘Give me your sword,’ he said to Geralt immediately after the greeting. ‘You cannot wear a weapon here. Do not worry, even though you will not see the sword, at all times it will be within arm’s reach. If I give the order. If something happens, you will be immediately served your sword. From Captain Ropp here.’

  ‘And what is the probability that something will happening?’

  ‘If it were low, or hardly any, would I have hired you? Wow!’ Egmund looked at the scabbard and blade. ‘A sword of Viroled! Not a sword, but a work of art. I know, I once had one like it. It was stolen by my brother, Viraxas. When father had him exiled he appropriated it among other things. A memento, I guess.’

  Ferrant de Lettenhove coughed. Geralt remembered the words of Dandelion. The name of the exiled eldest son was forbidden to say at court. But Egmund apparently spat on bans.

  ‘A work of art,’ the prince repeated. ‘I will not ask how you acquired it, but congratulations on the acquisition. Because I do not believe that the ones that were stolen, were better than this.’

  ‘It is a matter of taste, habits and preferences. I would prefer to recover those that were stolen. The Prince and the Royal Instigator have given me their word that they will find the culprit. Let me remind you: we have a condition in which I take on the task of protecting the king. It is obvious that the condition has not been satisfied.’

  ‘Obviously not,’ Egmund coldly acknowledged, handing the sword to Captain Ropp. Therefore, I feel obligated to compensate you. Instead of three hundred crowns, which I was going to pay for your services, you will receive five hundred. I would also add that the investigation into the case of your swords is not terminated, and you can still get them back. Ferrant, seems to already have a suspect. Isn’t that true, Ferrant?’

  ‘The investigation,’ Ferrant de Lettenhove dryly informed, ‘clearly points to Nikefor Muus, a magistrate and court official. He escaped, but his capture is only a matter of time.’

  ‘Not too long, I believe,’ the prince chuckled. ‘catching a man smeared in official ink. In addition, he certainly has hemorrhoids, from sitting at his desk – It would be difficult for him to escape, both on foot and on horseback. How could he escape?’

  ‘We are dealing with,’ grumbled the Royal Instigator, ‘a man difficult to predict, probably mentally handicapped. Before disappearing, he arranged for a disgusting mess at the establishment of Ravengi, my apologies, with human excrement… The restaurant had to close for a while, because… I will omit the shocking details. When conducting a search in Muss’s apartment the stolen swords were not found, instead we found… sorry… a leather pouch, filled to the brim…’

  ‘Don’t say it, we can guess.’ Egmund frowned. ‘Yes, it really does say a lot about the mental state of the subject. Your sword, witcher, in this case, are most likely lost. Even if Ferrant catches him, he sounds like a madman. Those even under torture just spout nonsense. But excuse me, duty calls.’

  Ferrant de Lettenhove guided Geralt back to the main entrance to the palace grounds. Soon, they found themselves on the stone tiles of the patio where the Seneschal greeted arriving guests, and the pages and guards accompanied them on, deeper into the park.

  ‘What can I expect?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What can I expect here today? Which of these words is not clear?’

  ‘Prince Xander,’ the Royal Instigator lowered his voice, ‘boasted in front of witnesses, that tomorrow he would be king. But this is not the first time he has said it, and always when drunk.’

  ‘Is he able to organize a revolution?’

  ‘Hardly. But he has backers, confidants and favourites. They are more capable.’

  ‘How much truth is that today Belohun will announce his heir to the throne is his son, who was conceived with his new wife?’

  ‘A lot.’

  ‘But loosing his change to the throne, Egmund hires a witcher to guard and protect his father. That is admirable love.’

  ‘Do not argue. Set to work – to fulfill it.’

  ‘I’m here and I’m fulfilling. Although it is all very vague. I don’t know who in this case would be against me. But I at least know who in this case support me.’

  ‘If you need a sword, then, as promised by the prince, Captain Ropp will give it to you. I will also support you. I’ll help in any way I can. Because I wish you success’

  ‘Since when?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We never talk face to face. You only ever contact Dandelion, and with him I did not want to involve in this subject. The detail information in writing about my alleged fraud. Where did Egmund get it? Someone had to fabricate it. It is clear it was not him. So you faked it, Ferrant.’

  ‘I did not have anything to do with this. I assure you…’

  ‘You’re a terrible liar for a guardian of the law. I can’t imagine by what miracle you reached this position.’

  Ferrant de Lettenhove fell silent.

  ‘I had to,’ he said. ‘I’m following orders.’

  The Witcher stared at him.

  ‘You would not believe,’ he said at last, ‘how many times I’ve heard something like that. It is gratifying that most often it is from the lips of people who in a moment were about to hang.’

  ***

  Lytta Neyd was among the guests. He found her easily. Because she was very conspicuous.

  She wore a very low-cut gown of lush green crepe de chine and the front was decorated with embroidery in the shape of a stylized butterfly, made with tiny spark
ling sequins. The bottom of the dress had ruffles. Ruffles in women’s clothing over ten years old, usually evoked ironic sympathy in the witcher, but Lytta’s dress, however, combined with everything else, made it more attractive.

  Around the sorceress’s neck was a necklace covered in polished emeralds. Everyone about the size of almonds. One of them was much larger.

  Her red hair was like wildfire.

  Near Lytta was Mozaïk. In a black and surprisingly bold dress of silk and chiffon on the shoulders and sleeves which were completed transparent. Around her neck was draped an intricate chiffon frill, in combination with long black gloves, it gave her an aura of extravagance and secrecy.

  Both wore shoes with four-inch heels. Lytta’s – iguana leather, Mozaïk – black patent leather.

  Geralt hesitated on whether to approach. But only for a moment.

  ‘Hello,’ she greeted him calmly. ‘What a gathering, it’s good to see you. Mozaïk, you’ve won, some new white shoes.’

  ‘A bet,’ he guessed. ‘What was the subject?’

  ‘You. I believe that we wouldn’t see you again, I offered a bet that you wouldn’t show up. Mozaïk accepted the bet, because she assumed otherwise.’

  She caught him with her deep jade green eyes, apparently waiting for a comment. For a word. Any. But Geralt remained silent.

  ‘Hello, beautiful ladies!’ said Dandelion arriving. ‘I bow low, paying tribute to the beauty of Lady Neyd and Lady Mozaïk. Sorry, I did not bring flowers.’

  ‘You are forgiven. Well, what’s new in art?’

  ‘As usual with art, everything and nothing,’ Dandelion grabbed from a passing tray a couple of glasses of wine and handed them to the ladies. ‘It somehow sad at this party, do you not think? But the wine is good. Est Est, forty for a pint. The red is also good. I’ve tried it. Just do not drink the hippocras, they do not know how to brew it. All of the guests have almost arrived, have you noticed? As usual all of the higher spheres, are running a race, the one who arrives last wins. I think we are seeing the finish line. Crossing the line is the owner of the sawmill and his wife, and losing, marching just before him, the head of the port and his wife. The next ones are unknown to me…’

  ‘A merchant from Kovir, on a trade mission,’ explain Coral. ‘And his wife.’

  ‘They are joining up with Pyrall Pratt, that old gangster. With such a partner, wow… the plague!’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘The woman next to him,’ Dandelion choked. ‘Its… its… Etna Asiderr the widow who sold me the sword…’

  ‘She introduced herself like that?’ grinned Lytta. ‘Etna Asiderr. It’s a banal anagram. That woman’s particular name is Antea Derris. The eldest daughter of Pratt. No she is not a widow, as she has never been married. Rumour has it that she does not like men.’

  ‘Pratt’s daughter? It can’t be! I was with him…’

  ‘And you did not meet her there,’ the sorceress did not let him finish. ‘No wonder. Antea is not in good relations with her family, even the name is not used, she uses a pseudonym, made up of the two names. She only communicates with her father on important business matters. I am very surprised, seeing them here together.’

  ‘Perhaps there is a mutual interest,’ the witcher said sharply.

  ‘It’s terrible to think what. Antea officially deals with trade intermediation, but her favourite sport – scams, trickery and fraud. Poet, I have something to ask you. You’re an experienced person, but Mozaïk isn’t. take her among the guests, and introduce her to those she should meet. And show her those that it is not necessary to meet as well.’

  Dandelion after been assured that Coral’s desire for him to do so was tantamount to an order, took Mozaïk’s hand. Then left them alone.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Lytta broke the long silence. ‘For a walk. There, on that hill.’

  On the hill, was a monastery of reflection, from this height they overlooked the area of Palmyra, the port and the sea. Lytta shielded her eyes with her hand.

  ‘What is that floating on the river? Moving in to anchor? A three-masted frigate of an interesting design. The one under black sails, ha, it is quite unusual…’

  ‘Forget the frigate. Dandelion and Mozaïk are gone, we are alone.’

  ‘And you,’ she turned, ‘what are you waiting for? Waiting for me to talk to you. Waiting for me to ask questions. And am I to tell you the latest gossip? From among the sorcerers? Oh, no, don’t worry, they won’t involve Yennefer. Their concern is Rissberg, a place one way or another, where you are known. There have been major changes recently… I do not see a spark of curiosity in your eyes. Should I continue?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘It all started when Ortolan died.’

  ‘Ortolan’s dead?’

  ‘He died less than a week ago. According to the official version, he was fatally poisoned by the fertilizers, on which he worked. But rumour has it that it was a stroke, caused by the news of the sudden death of one of his favourite pupils, who died as a result of a failed experiment, and very suspiciously. We are talking about a certain Degerlund. You remember him? You met him when you were at the castle.’

  ‘It’s possible. I’ve met many. Not everyone of them is worth remembering.’

  ‘Ortolan it seems blamed the death of his pupil on the entire staff of Rissberg, he was furious and suffered a stroke. He was very old, and for many years suffered from hypertension, and it was not a secret he was depended on fisstech. Fisstech and hypertension – a dangerous mix. But there must have been something significant happening in Rissberg and there have been significant personnel changes. Even before the death of Ortolan, there was conflict and people were force to resign, among them, Algernon Guincamp, better known as Pinety. You know him. Because if there is someone there worth remembering, it was him.’

  ‘It’s true.’

  ‘Ortolan’s death,’ Coral stared at him, ‘brought about a swift response from the Chapter, to which has been heard some disturbing news about the antics of the deceased and his pet. Interestingly, it is starting to look like an avalanche caused by a tiny pebble. It started with some stubborn sheriff or constable. He handed a charge up to his boss the Bailiff of Gors Velen. The Bailiff handed the charge up, and so, step by step, it came to the royal council, and from there to the Chapter. In short: they found them guilty of a lack of control. Because of this the Administration was had to force out Birtua Icarti, she returned to the school of Aretuza. Gone are Axel Esparza and Tarvix Sandoval. Zangenis retained his position and he received from the Chapter a promotion for informing on the others and dumping all the blame on them. How do you like that? Do you have anything to say about this?’

  ‘What can I say, it’s your business. And your intrigue.’

  ‘Intrigues that erupted in Rissberg shortly after your visit there.’

  ‘You overestimate me, Coral. And my true potential.’

  ‘I never overestimate. And rarely underestimate.’

  ‘Mozaïk and Dandelion are about to return,’ she stared into her eyes. ‘You didn’t tell them to leave without reason. Tell me, finally, what is the matter.’

  She held his gaze.

  ‘You know very well what it is,’ she said. ‘Do not insult my intelligence, or downplay your own parade. You were not with me for over a month. No, do not think that I expect cloying melodrama or pathetic sentimental gestures. From a relationship that is behind us, I expect nothing but pleasant memories.’

  ‘You used the word “relationship”? Indeed, it has a striking semantic capacity.’

  ‘Nothing,’ his words fell on deaf ears, ‘but pleasant memories. I do not know how you perceive it, but for me, well, I’ll be honest, in this there is nothing good. It would be good, I think, to make a little effort in that direction. I think that much is required. For example, something small, but beautiful, a beautiful final chord. That will leave a pleasant memory. Can you can make up your mind on something like th
at? Do you still want to see me?’

  He did not answer. The deafening bells from the monastery struck ten blows. The trumpets rang – a loud, copper and slightly cacophonous fanfare. Blue and red guards divided the crowd of guests, forming a corridor. Under the portico at the entrance to the palace appeared the Marshal of the Court, with a gold chain around his neck and a big staff in hand. Behind the Marshal marched heralds and the Seneschal. And behind the Seneschal, in a sable hat on his head and a sceptre in his hand, moved a bony and sinewy person – Belohun, King of Kerack. Beside him was a slim blonde in a veil, which could only be the royal lady, and in the very near future, his wife and queen. The blonde was dressed in a crisp white dress and bedecked with diamonds, perhaps excessively. On her shoulders she wore a mantle or ermine, supported from behind by pages.

  Behind the royal couple, somewhere roughly fifteen paces behind the pages, followed the royal family. Among them, of course, Egmund and beside his someone as white as an albino, who could only be his brother Xander. Behind the brothers were other relatives, some men, some women, some of them teenagers, boys and girls, it was obvious, legitimate and illegitimate descendants.

  As they passed by, the guest bowed deeply, eventually the royal procession reached its goal – a construction, something resembling a scaffold. On the dais covered with a canopy on top and fenced in on the sides with tapestries, two thrones were set. The king and his bride sat. The remaining family members remained standing.

  Trumpets again roared in everybody’s ears. The Marshal of the Court, waving his arms like a conductor of an orchestra, called out to proclaim a toast and his congratulations. Then pouring in from all sides was wishes of health, happiness, prosperity, all the best, long life, even longer life, as more and more guests and courtiers tried to outdo each other. King Belohun did not change his arrogant and pompous facial expression, to their wishes, compliments and odes to his honour, he showed only the gentle swaying of his sceptre.

  The Marshal reassured the guests and gave a speech, he spoke for a long time, moving smoothly from grandiloquence to the bombastic and back. Geralt had all his attention on the crowd, so that he took in every fifth word of ten. King Belohun, announced the Marshal to everyone, was sincerely happy to see so many outstanding people, and is pleased to welcome them to this solemn day, he wished the guests the same, that they wished him, and that the wedding ceremony would be held this afternoon, but until then let the guests eat, drink and delight themselves with numerous scheduled entertainments organised for the occasion.

 

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