Andrzej Sapkowski - [Witcher 05]

by The Tower of the Swallow (fan translation) (epub)

  While pitching his speech, Bonhart’s eyes pierced Skellen’s. But the Imperial Coroner never looked down.

  ‘What does this mean for me?’ Bonhart asked rhetorically and immediately answered. ‘Shit! So then, with regret, I had to give up my plans for the little witcheress and princess. I brought this whole mess here, Mister Skellen. To talk and come to an agreement… Because this shit seems to be a bit big for one Bonhart…’

  ‘A good decision,’ something yelled from under Rience’s arm. ‘A very good decision, Mister Bonhart. What you have captured gentlemen, is something a little bit too big for both of you. Fortunately, you still have me.’

  ‘What is that?’ Skellen rose from his chair. ‘What the hell is that?’

  ‘My master, the sorcerer Vilgefortz,’ Rience pulled out from under his arm a silver shiny box. ‘More specifically, the voice of my master. Coming from this magical device called a Xenophon.’

  ‘I greet all those present,’ said the box. ‘It is a shame I can only hear you, but some urgent matters prevent me from teleprojecting or teleportation.’

  ‘Shit, this is all we need,’ The Owl swore. ‘But I should have guessed that Rience was too stupid to act on his own. I should have known that you were hiding in the darkness, Vilgefortz. Like an old fat spider, lying in waiting in the dark, waiting for the web to vibrate.’

  ‘What a most offensive comparison.’

  Skellen snorted.

  ‘And do not try and deceive us, Vilgefortz. Rience is using this box not because you are busy, but because you are afraid of the army of sorcerers, your former comrades of the Chapter, who are scanning the world looking for traces of magic with your algorithm. If you tried to teleport, they would find you in a flash.’

  ‘What an impressive knowledge.’

  ‘We have not been introduced to each other,’ Bonhart rather theatrically bowed to the silver box. ‘But if I’m correct, Sir Sorcerer, Mister Rience here promises to torture the princess. Have I made a mistake? On my soul, I am continually making sure of how important this girl is. Everyone is interested in her.’

  ‘We have not been introduced to each other,’ said Vilgefortz from the box. ‘But I know you, Sir Bonhart, as well. And the girl is certainly important. This Lion Cub of Cintra is of the Elder Blood. And according to the prophecy of Ithlinne, her descendants will rule the world.’

  ‘That’s why you need her?’

  ‘I only need the placenta. When I extract it from her, you can have the rest. Do I hear snorts? What about upset and disgusted sighs? Whose? From Bonhart who every day tortures the girl both physically and mentally? Stefan Skellen, who is ordered by traitors and conspirators to kill the girl? Huh?’

  * * *

  I eavesdropped on them, Kenna remembered, lying on the bunk with her hands behind her head. I was standing in a corner and felt. And my hair stood on end. All over my body. And suddenly I understood the terrible mess that I had gotten into.

  * * *

  ‘Yes, yes’ the voice emerged from the Xenophon, ‘you betrayed your Emperor, Skellen. Without hesitation and at the earliest opportunity.’

  The Owl snorted with contempt.

  ‘The charge of betrayal from the mouth of the arch-traitor as you are, Vilgefortz is very tremendous. I would be honoured. Had it not smacked of a cheap joke.’

  ‘I do not accuse you of treason, Skellen; I make fun of your naiveté and your inability to treason. Because, why betray your master? For Ardal aep Dahy and De Wett, dukes, in their pathological offended pride, offended that their daughters were repulsed by the Emperor, when he planned to marry the Cintran. At the same time they counted on the fact that from their families would arise a new dynasty, that their importance would overshadow even the Imperial Majesty. With one stroke, Emhyr deprived them of this hope and they decided to improve the course of history. They are not ready for an armed rebellion, but they can still kill the girl who moved ahead of their daughters. They do not want to mess their own aristocratic hands, so they found a henchman for hire, Stefan Skellen, who suffers from excessive ambition. How was that, Skellen? Do you want to say something?’

  ‘What for?’ The Owl cried. ‘And to whom? But you know everything, as usual, great sorcerer! Rience as usual doesn’t know shit! And Bonhart doesn’t care…’

  ‘And you, as I have pointed out, have nothing to brag about. The Dukes bought you with promises, but you are to intelligent not to understand that without the girl you have nothing. They need you as a tool to remove the Cintran and once you have finished the dirty work they’ll get rid of you because you are a low-born upstart. They promised you and Vattier de Rideaux positions in the new empire? Not even you, yourself believe it, Skellen. Vattier is more necessary, because of the coup, but the secret service will always be the same. They just want to kill with your hands, Vattier they need to control the secret service. Besides, Vattier is a Viscount and you are nothing.’

  ‘Certainly,’ said The Owl. ‘I’m too intelligent not to have noticed. So then, now I am to betray Ardal aep Dahy and join you, Vilgefortz? Is that what you want? But I’m not a weather vane on a tower! I support the revolution, not from opportunism but from conviction. It is necessary to put an end to the absolute tyranny and establish a constitutional monarchy. And after a democracy…’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘A government of the people. A system in which people rule. Ordinary citizens of all backgrounds, through the most worth and honourable representatives arising from fair elections…’

  Rience roared with laughter. Bonhart thunderously joined him. A warm, if somewhat grating laugh came from the sorcerer Vilgefortz through the Xenophon. All three laughed until they cried.

  ‘Come,’ Bonhart interrupted the mirth. ‘We have not gathered here to party, but to talk business. The girl at the moment does not belong to ordinary citizens of all backgrounds, but to me. But I can sell her. What is your offer, Sir Sorcerer?’

  ‘Are you interested in power over the world?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Therefore, I’ll let you,’ Vilgefortz said slowly, ‘be present at the same time, when I do what I need to, to the girl. I know this will please you more than anything else.’

  Bonhart’s eyes flashed with white flame. But remained calm.

  ‘And more specifically?’

  ‘More specifically, I am willing to pay twenty times your stake. Two thousand florins. Consider, Bonhart, it is a bag of money that you will not be able to carry yourself; you will need a pack mule. That will suffice for the pension, porch, pigeons and even the vodka and whores if you keep a reasonable moderation.’

  ‘All right, Sir Sorcerer,’ the bounty hunter smiled, seemingly unconcerned. ‘The vodka and those whores have certainly reached my heart. Let’s make a deal. However take into account that your first offer is also reflected in this. It is true, I’d rather watch her die in an arena, but your work with a knife I am also quite curious about. Add it as a bonus.’

  ‘Deal.’

  ‘That was quick,’ The Owl said wryly. ‘Truly, Vilgefortz you have quickly and smoothly made a partnership with Bonhart. A partnership that is societas leonina. But have you not forgotten something? The council room where you sit, and around the Cintran are surrounded by armed people. My people.’

  ‘My dear Coroner Skellen,’ Vilgefortz voice rang from the box. ‘You insult me, thinking that in this exchange I want to hurt you. Quite the contrary. I’m going to be extremely generous. I cannot ensure your democracy. But I can promise financial assistance, logistical support and free access to information that will make you stop being a tool for the other conspirators and become a partner. They will have to reckon with you, Duke Joachim de Wett, Duke Ardal aep Dahy, Earl Broinne, Earl Darvi and all the other noble conspirators. So what if it is societas leonina? Yes if the loot is Cirilla, I will take the lion’s share of the spoils for my, as I believe, merits. Does this hurt you? At the end of the day you will have benefits that are not small. If you give me the Cin
tran, you can have the position of Vattier de Rideaux in your pocket. And being the head of the secret services, Stefan Skellen, you can make your various utopias, including democracy and fair elections. You see, in exchange for the thin teenager, I’ll grant you the fulfilment of the ambitions and desires of your life. Do you see?’

  ‘No,’ The Owl shook his head. ‘I can only hear.’

  ‘Rience.’

  ‘Yes, master?’

  ‘Give Mister Coroner a sample of our information. Tell him what you know of Vattier.’

  ‘In your unit,’ said Rience, ‘there is a spy.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard. Vattier de Rideaux has a mole here. He knows everything you do. Why you do it and for whom. Vattier has gotten to one of your agents.’

  * * *

  He approached her slowly. She almost did not hear him.

  ‘Kenna.’

  ‘Neratin.’

  ‘You were open to my thoughts. There, in the council room. You know what I was thinking. So you know who I am.’

  ‘Listen, Neratin…’

  ‘No. You listen, Joanna Selbourne. Stefan Skellen betrays his country and emperor. He conspires. All who are with him will end up on the scaffold. Quartered by horses in Millennium Square.’

  ‘I know nothing, Neratin. I am just following orders… What do you want from me? I serve the Coroner… And who do you serve?’

  ‘The Empire. Lord de Rideaux.’

  ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘You show common sense.’

  ‘Leave. I will not betray you; I will not say anything… but go, please. I cannot, Neratin. I am a simple woman. I do not understand these intrigues…’

  * * *

  What am I supposed to do? Skellen addressed me as Office Selbourne. But whom do I serve? Him? The Emperor? The Empire?

  How do I decide?

  Kenna leaned back against the wall of the cottage, and with a menacing growl drove away the rural brats staring at the chained up Falka.

  A beautiful mess. I can feel the noose. Smell the horse shit on Millennium Square. I have no idea what will happen. But I have to enter for a moment to know her thoughts.

  To know who she is.

  To understand.

  * * *

  ‘She moved closer,’ Ciri said, stroking the cat. ‘She was tall, well groomed, and very different from the rest of the gang… Even in her own way pretty. She produced respect. The two that were watching me, two simpletons who were cursing vulgarly stopped when she approached.’

  Vysogota was silent.

  ‘Then,’ Ciri continued, ‘she bowed and looked into my eyes. At that moment I noticed something… something strange… like something hit me in the back of my head. My ears where ringing. For a moment there very clearly before my eyes… Something came into me, disgusting, slimy… I knew what it was. Yennefer had taught me about it in the temple… But I did not want to allow this woman… So I pushed at the something that was penetrating me, pushed and spat out, with all the power that I could muster. The tall woman bent and swayed as if hit by a fist and took two steps back… Blood started rushing from her nose. From both holes.’

  Vysogota was silent.

  ‘And suddenly,’ Ciri lifted her head, ‘I realised what had happened. I suddenly felt the Power within me. I lost it there in the Korath desert, renounced it. Later I could not draw on it, I couldn’t use it. And she, this woman gave me strength; put the sword in my hand. This was my chance.’

  * * *

  Kenna staggered and sat down heavily in the sand, shaking her head and fumbling around on the ground like a drunk. Blood poured from her nose and spilled over her lips and chin.

  ‘What is…’ Andres Vierny sprang up, but suddenly he grabbed his head with both hands, opened his mouth, and from his lips came a shout. With wide eyes he stared at Stigward. The man’s nose and ears were also bleeding and his eyes were clouded. Andres fell to his knees and turned to Neratin Ceka, who stood to one side and watched calmly.

  ‘Nera…tin…Help…’

  Ceka did not move. He watched the girl. She looked up at him and he reeled.

  ‘There is no need,’ he warned her quickly. ‘I’m on your side. I want to help. Stop, I’ll cut the ties… Here’s a knife, open up your collar. I will bring the horses.’

  ‘Ceka…’ Andres choked from his stifled larynx. ‘Traitor…’

  The girl looked into his eyes again, and fell to the floor motionless. Stigward curled up into the foetal position. Kenna could still not get up, blood dripped in thick drops down her chest and abdomen.

  ‘Alarm!’ cried Chloe Stitz, who suddenly appeared from behind a corner of the building. ‘Alarm! Silifant! Skellen! The prisoner is escaping!’

  Ciri was already in the saddle. Her sword was in her hand.

  ‘Yaaa! Kelpie!’

  ‘Alaaaarm!’

  Kenna clawed at the sand. She could not get up. Nor would her feet which felt like wood, obey her. A psionic, she thought, I’ve run into a superpsionic. This girl is ten times stronger than me… Luckily I have not been killed… How am I still even conscious?

  From the surrounding houses approached a group headed by Ola Harsheim, Bert Brigden and Til Echrade, also rushing into the square were Dacre Silifant and Boreas Mun. Ciri turned and yelled and galloped towards the river. But from that way armed men were approaching as well.

  Skellen and Bonhart rushed out of the council building. Bonhart held a naked sword. Neratin Ceka shouted, approaching them on his horse knocking down Skellen. From the saddle, he threw himself directly at Bonhart and held him to the ground. Rience appeared in the doorway and stared like a fool.

  ‘Get her!’ Skellen yelled, rising from the ground. ‘Catch her or kill her!’

  ‘Alive!’ Rience cried. ‘Aliiiive!’

  Kenna watched as the girl move away from the palisade along the shore and change direction and headed for the gate. She saw Cabernik Turent jump into her path, she saw the sword flash and saw the crimson stream flow from Turent’s neck. Dede Vargas and Fripp the Younger also saw it. They decided not to get in the way of the girl and moved in between the cottages.

  Bonhart jumped up, smashed the pommel of his sword into Neratin Ceka’s head and slashed him across the chest. He immediately jumped up after Ciri. The wounded and bleeding Neratin, still managed to grab him by the foot, only to let go when Bonhart’s sword speared through him into the sand. However, those few moments were enough.

  She spurred the mare to move past Silifant and Mun. Skellen, bent like a wolf, came running from the left, waving his hand. Kenna saw something shining in flight, then saw the girl swaying in the saddle, and from her face gushed a fountain of blood. She leaned back so far that for a moment her back lay on the haunches of the mare. But before she fell, she straightened up, grabbed the saddle and held onto the horse’s neck. The black mare, galloped through the crowed of armed men and rushed straight towards the revolving gate. Behind her ran Mun, Silifant and Chloe Stitz with a crossbow.

  ‘We have her!’ Boreas Mun shouted triumphantly. ‘She cannot get out, no horse can jump seven feet!’

  ‘Do not shoot, Chloe!’

  Chloe Stitz did not hear the shouted command. She stopped. She raised the crossbow to her cheek. Everyone knew that Chloe never missed.

  ‘You’re a dead man!’ she cried. ‘A dead man!’

  Kenna saw an unknown short man run up, pick up a crossbow and shoot Chloe in the back. The bolt passed through her with an explosion of blood. Chloe fell without a sound.

  The black mare galloped up to the revolving gate and threw back its head. And it jumped. It rose gracefully and flew above the gate, extending its front legs and glided like a black velvet line. The hind hooves did not even brush the upper beam.

  ‘Gods!’ Dacre Silifant shouted. ‘By the gods, what a horse! Worth its weight in gold!’

  ‘The mare for anyone who catches her!’ Skellen cried. ‘To the horses! To the horses and the chase!’
>
  When the gate was finally open, the pursuers galloped from the village, dust rising behind them. Ahead raced Bonhart and Boreas Mun.

  Kenna stood up with effort. She staggered and sat down heavily on the sand. Her feet tingled painfully.

  Cabernik Turnet was not moving, lying in a pool of blood with his legs and arms wide apart. Andres Vierny was trying to stand and Stigward was still unconscious.

  Collapsed on the sand, Chloe Stitz looked like a small child.

  Ola Harsheim and Bert Brigden brought before Skellen the short man who had killed Chloe. The Owl sighed. And shook with rage. From a shoulder strap across his chest he pulled off a second metal star, like the one her had thrown at the girl’s face a moment before.

  ‘Go to hell, Skellen,’ said the short man. Kenna finally remembered his name. Mekesser. Jediah Mekesser, the Gemmerian. She had met him in Rocayne.

  The Owl stooped, and violently waved his hand. The six-pointed star howled through the air and stuck deep into the face of Mekesser, between the eyes and nose. He did not even scream, just began to tremble spasmodically between the embrace of Harsheim and Brigden. He trembled for a long time and his bared teeth were so ghastly that everyone turned their heads. All except the Owl.

  ‘Make sure you retrieve my Orion,’ Skellen said with a wave of his hand, after the body finally hung lifeless in the arms that held him. ‘And throw the carrion in the manure, along with the other carrion, the hermaphrodite. Let there be no more trace of these disgusting traitors.’

  Suddenly the wind howled, and the clouds rushed overhead. Suddenly it was very dark.

  * * *