A Scholar's travels with a Witcher

When I had woken up in the morning it had seemed like such a pleasant day. It seemed very far away just then. That early morning camp-site in a pleasant little dell just off the road. An early rise as we knew there was a town, not too far away. Very pleasant indeed.

Yet here we were. Violence hanging in the air and I thought about that morning and the long chain of circumstances that had led us here to this point and at this time. It seemed surreal.

Sir William was standing there. I saw that his helmet was now under his arm and that there was also a man wearing Sir Williams colours standing next to a huge Warhorse that had been separated from the other horses. I presumed that this was Sir Williams squire and saw that he was holding a lance.

“Lady Josefina,” The Witcher called. “Lady Josefina, come out of there.”

Greta and I followed at a distance and made sure to stay towards the edge of the glade.

“Lady Josefina,” The Witcher called again standing in front of the Pavilion. “Come out Milady. The task is done and your servant and champion stands before you victorious.” He was talking in that melodic voice again. The same one that he had used when he was playing the courtier earlier. But now there was a maliciousness to it a sense of steel and bitterness.

“Josefina,” he sang. “Josefina, Oh the beautiful Josefina, She Whose radiance lies unsurpassed by the rays of the golden sun.”

I smirked despite my own best efforts.

“She whose lips put to shame the red red rose.”

The Lady Josefina stormed through the pavilion entrance. “How dare you speak to me in such a fashion?” She demanded.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that was the point of tormenting these poor trolls. It was part of your courtship.”

“You?” She asked, misunderstanding. “You court me? You are nothing but a common Witcher.”

“No madame,” he answered. “I am an exceptional Witcher, but we are not talking about that.” He held up his arm as though declaring a flowery declaration of love on stage. “But now My dearest Lady. As a Witcher I must warn you that the time has finally come.” His arm dropped and all tone and resonance left his voice. “Pay the man.”

He held his hand out.

The better class of servant was standing behind the lady and opened his mouth to speak.

“Milady we did....”

She spun on the poor man. “Silence wretch.”

I saw that another two knights from her former entourage chose that moment to quietly leave.

“And as for you, you filthy vagabond.” She hawked and spat in the Witcher's face. “That is your payment.”

The Witcher calmly wiped the spittle from his face.

“Madam you promised....”

“I promised nothing.”

“In return for removing...”

“But the Troll is still alive.” she screamed.

Even though she was now showing the worst of her own character, I am ashamed to admit that she was still beautiful.

“It's still alive,” She went on. “What kind of a monster-slayer are you? I wanted to watch you...”

Her mouth snapped shut as she realised suddenly.

“Wanted to what?” asked the Witcher coldly. “You wanted to watch me kill her. Her, not it. You wanted to watch me kill her, and her child. You were looking forward to a show weren't you? A slaughter. A butchering of innocents.”

She said nothing. Her eyes blazing. Eternal Fire help me but I wanted her then. I forced myself to look away.

“Pay me.”

“Never. The beast is still alive. Bring me her head and the head of her child and I will pay you.” She crowed in triumph and finally, finally my lust turned to disgust and I could look at her again.

“All I swore was to rid you of the beast. That I have done. She is gone. The contract is fulfilled and you owe me my reward.” The Witcher drove home each word as though he was driving a dagger into an enemy.

“I agreed to no such thing.”

“You did milady.”

“Prove it.” She said. That note of defiant triumph back in her voice. “Produce the contract that I signed and I will pay you.”

The Witcher said. “Forgive me madam but my understanding of a certain royal decree in these parts is that a nobles word is their bond. You said the thing, therefore it is true. If you fail to keep your word, then your entire title, fortune and lands are forfeit to the throne. Which I believe is currently under Nilfgaard rule.”

The servant tried again. I might have only been imagining the malice in the man's eyes. “He is right milady and you did....”

“Be silent,” she screamed. You answer to me while my father is away and I forbid you to hand over any money.”

“In which case milady I have no choice but to declare you a debtor and an uncouth liar.” The Witcher's eyes flashed. But as you are now a commoner, and I am but a “common Witcher” I will call you a Bitch. I will call you a filthy Liar who doesn't deserve to lick the dung from my boot. You madam are a she-devil who should have been whipped regularly since childhood. Should have been tossed into the cold as a worthless waste of food, water and air. If the soul was displayed on your skin you would be the ugliest woman alive and no-one would care to watch as you were left out in the cold. Not only will I say these things...”

His voice rose to drown out her apoplectic rage. “Not only will I say these things but I shall spread the word far and wide that these things are the case and I'm sure that the nearest Imperial tax collector will soon be hearing about it and will come here to hang you for treason. You will be known as the whore you are and that you spread...”

“That is enough,” Sir William finally entered the fray. “Madam, I offer myself as you champion.”

His tone carried a certain frustration that she hadn't thought to ask him about this sooner.

She jumped on the offer immediately while at the same time being startled. “Yes, kill this man for me.” She grinned in relish at the prospect “Kill him slowly.”

Sir William moved forward towards the Witcher.

“If you try and slap me,” The Witcher spoke in his raspy, graveyard voice. “I will remove your hand and honour be damned. I accept the duel. But we still need a witness to formalise this.”

“I will serve as witness.” I offered. “I am the son of Baron von Coulthard. I can provide warrants of nobility.”

“Unacceptable, you are clearly biased.” Sir William intoned.

I didn't think I could get angry at an insult to my nobility any more having long since left that world behind. I took a step forwards then and opened my mouth.

“I will serve,” said the Chancellor before I could speak. His tone carefully neutral. “As the Lords Chancellor I may do such a thing on his behalf in his absence. To challenge my neutrality in these matters is an insult to him.”

“I accept,” said Sir William.

The Witcher looked on with a slight smile and a placating gesture in my direction. “As do I,” he said.

The chancellor went inside and came back out with paper, ink and quill.

“Terms gentlemen?” he asked, pen poised.

“To the death,” Sir William declared. Accepting the ladies smile graciously.

“Agreed,” The Witcher seemed bored.

“Skill at arms only, no magic or potions,” The knight went on.

“Agreed.” I began to feel a little concerned. I knew the Witcher was good, but he was wearing, at best light armour and Sir William was dripping in plate and chain mail.

“But, I want it noted.” said the Witcher, “That if I win, then the lady owes me the 200 crowns and...” he paused for a moment, “everything I said about her is true.”

“You do not demand her death if you kill her champion?” The Chancellor asked. I wonder now if he was trying to prompt him into just that.

“Nah,” said the Witcher, he was watching the girl, “I will remand her to the justice of her father.”

I am sure. I am SURE that the Chancellor smirked at that.

The Chancellor scribbled for a while, three copies of the writ and both men and the princess signed all three copies. The chancellor kept one, the Princess kept another and The Witcher received the third.

“Finally gentlemen.” Said the Chancellor, “Is there no way I can talk you out of this proceedings.”

They both shook their heads.

“Then the flame and sun be with you both. Make yourselves ready.” I noticed he didn't add the traditional, 'May the best man win'. He had no doubt as to the outcome.

The Witcher nodded and moved to the middle of the glade while Greta and I moved to stand with the Chancellor, our safety now guaranteed under the laws of a legal duel.

With a smug smile, Sir William gestured and the squire who was obviously prepared for the gesture brought the horse up. The last of the knights quietly left, muttering in disgust. If Sir William was victorious, it was now clear that it would be him that would marry the girl.

“Can he do that?” I muttered to the Chancellor.

“What? Oh yes. The stipulation was martial skills only.” The man was clearly disgusted however. “Your man should have stipulated that the fight happen on foot. Or have got on his own horse by now. I'm afraid that this is probably a foregone conclusion.

William climbed aboard the huge warhorse, helmeted himself and took up the lance. The horse pranced a bit and reared, an impressive feat considering the weight of the man on the beasts back. I suspected it was an intimidation technique.

The Witcher had sat down and seemed to be watching the show with some interest.

Sir William made a huge show of asking Lady Josefina for a token of her favour. She gave him a scarf that was obviously prepared in advance before, still prancing, he rode to the other end of the dell.

The Witcher picked himself up, dusted himself off and finally drew his sword. He moved to provide a greater distance between himself and his opponent. On the one hand this would mean that Sir William would have less room to pull up, but on the other hand he would be going faster when he reached the Witcher.

I found that I was holding my breath.

Sir William pranced around for a while, showing off in a way that I am sure was meant to be intimidating but as far as I could see the Witcher stood calmly, breathing evenly and steadily.

There was a moment, I've seen it several times since. I will admit that I've even been involved in one of these moments. Where suddenly, instead of people, standing around nerving themselves up to start something. The fight had started.

The horse sprang forwards in an obviously trained manner where it seemed to go from all but standing still to an almost flat out gallop inside of a split second.

I had enough time to see that the Witcher danced backwards a couple of paces giving himself more room and turned the sword around in his hands so that he was holding it by the blade. I didn't have time to wince even though I knew how sharp it was.

Sir Williams horse leapt forwards like an arrow from a bow, the lance falling into rest to the cheer of Lady Josefina as the knight sped towards it's target.

My companion shuffled a bit to one side, frowning in concentration and then...

He seemed to collapse. There was no sound to signify the lance striking home but the Witcher just folded up, and rolled to one side.

Then I saw that he had rolled in front of the horses feet and the lance was pointing in the wrong direction.

I tried to cheer but it came out in a grunt.

The lance couldn't possibly come back in time.

The Witcher was past it's point. He was safe. The sword rose, pommel upwards and the Witcher swung with what looked like all his might.

Too soon. He was going to miss.

He had missed.

Far too early. It seemed wrong. Why would a swordsman trained as well as the Witcher make such a mistake.

But it wasn't his mistake.

It was mine.

It was ours.

The pommel of the Witchers sword struck the horse full in the mouth, shattering the front teeth. The horse had been thundering forwards at an astonishing rate, and it tried to stop, rear and lash out at it's tormentor in one movement.

The Witcher spun away and waited, sword held by the hilt again.

The horse was in a panic now, rearing and bucking. Further tormented by the knight holding on and frantically trying to bring it back under control. Blood streamed from the side of the poor beast where Sir Williams spurs had savagely raked at it. The froth at the beasts mouth was pink with more blood and then, with the slow pondering motion of a tree falling in the woods, Sir William slowly toppled out of the saddle.

The noise he made as he crashed to the floor was unlike anything I had ever heard.

Sir William lay on his back for a moment before trying to get up to a sitting position. Lady Josefina had screamed when he fell and now stood with her hand over her mouth.

Kerrass walked forward and gently tapped the knight on his helmet with his blade before moving past him to stand ready a bit nearer to us all.

“Franklin,” he said to me, “Would you help the man to his feet please and remove that horse from the fight. Take that damn bit out as well while you're about it.” I nodded and had time to see the Chancellor's mouth open in surprise.

I made it to Sir William and with much grunting and swearing, I managed to get him to his feet and started straightening out his armour. I don't know why but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. He started as he recognised me and bellowed for his squire who came running with a huge

broadsword.

I got to the horse and managed to get it calmed down. It looked more shocked than seriously hurt and I led it back to the others to discover the Witcher in the middle of a lecture to Lady Josefina but his voice was pitched so that Sir William could hear it too.

“That's the problem with knights,” he was saying conversationally as Sir William was having his shield properly strapped to his arm for foot fighting rather than horseback fighting. “When it comes to warfare they all have a couple of passes at each other from horseback. If one of them falls off then ransom is usually given. People are allowed to yield and other such “chivalric” actions abound. But down there, in the mud, is where the actual fighting happens. Where a man can be as well trained as he likes but still gets overwhelmed by the raw savagery and hate that is found on the battlefield.”

Sir William had had his armour and shield adjusted to his satisfaction and was now demanding his sword.

“But,” continued the Witcher, “You ask any infantryman, any infantryman in the world about what the target is when facing heavy cavalry and they will tell you that it's the horse. Get the knight down to your level and they're fucked. Knights just aim for each other and therefore don't assume that anyone would dare strike at their horse as they are the target, not the horse.”

The sword had been settled and strapped to Sir Williams wrist before, in a fury, Sir William took a swing at his own squire.

“Now, as for William the ram over here. Or should I say Billy the goat. Honestly, why name yourself after a goat when your name is William. It's just asking for trouble.”

Sir William roared in rage and swung his sword in a down ward strike intended to cleave the Witcher in two.

The Witcher simply stepped aside.

“Now we have a knight on foot,” The Witcher chuckled nastily. “Only one of the things they don't tell knights is that their boots are made for stirrups and balance with a lance. Not for fighting on foot.”

He danced out of the way of another strike, his sword still held casually at his side.

“So by now, his calves will be hurting and he will probably still be quite dizzy from the crash earlier.”

He ducked another huge horizontal blow.

“Not that he's hurt though. He's wearing armour, aren't you Billy the goat?”

“Fight me damn you,” roared the angry knight.

“But I am fighting you. Just in the way of a Witcher, not a knight.”

I was astonished to realise that Sir William was out of breath.

“You see. I'm a Witcher. I'm not trained in the rules of war. I'm trained to kill monsters. That's what I do. I look at a charging knight and I don't see a man sat on the back of a horse. I see the entire picture.”

He had taken a step back and was circling his enemy at a distance.

“I see that the horse isn't properly armoured for a fight because a proper fight isn't expected. So I attack the horse.”

“You fucking coward.” Sir William snarled.

“Now now, is that anyway to speak in front of a lady?” The Witcher's voice held an equal snarl. “Now I have reduced the monster to it's basic system. A heavily armoured thing. That if I struck it plum then it wouldn't hurt it. Indeed, all it would serve would be to bring me in range of the things weapon. Have you caught your breath yet Sir Billy the Goat.”

“Fuck you,”

“My my, it would seem that courtesy and chivalry have gone right out the window. Sad, but not unexpected. But as a Witcher I am taught to look for weaknesses in the armour.”

“There are no weaknesses,” Sir William sneered. “It might take me a while but you will fall.”

“Really?” the Witcher gasped in mock horror, “Then you will forgive me if I point out your error.”

The Witcher closed with his enemy with blinding speed. He struck Sir William on the helmet twice in rapid succession. As he had predicted the blows barely even scratched the surface, Sir William swung at his tormentor.

But the Witcher was made of smoke, flowed round the blow and was suddenly behind the man. He thrust low, hard and into the back of Sir Williams knee.

Sir William howled, more in rage than in pain as his limb collapsed under him.

“Bodies all work the same way after all which is the other thing that you must study if you hope to win out. Now, lecture over and I need some answers.”

“You will never win.”

“I have already won you piece of filth.” The Witcher's voice was like ice. “Did you torture the old troll?”

“What?” Sir William seemed genuinely confused.

“Did you torture the old troll,” screamed the Witcher spittle flying before his voice went suddenly quiet. “It's a simple question,”

The knight managed to stagger to his feet.

“Fuck you,” I thought I could detect an element of despair in there. I knew enough about the body that even if he survived this. He would never fight again.

“Very well.”

The Witcher moved again, There was a clash of steel and then the other leg gave out.

“This can carry on for as long as I choose.” The Witchers voice made me shiver. I didn't want to watch but then I remembered the old troll nailed to a tree. I remembered the wail of a grieving wife and I made myself watch.

The knight made a desperate swing, missed. The Witcher brought down the edge of his blade on the wrist joint and I winced as I heard bones shatter before the Witcher kicked the sword out of gripping reach. Not that Sir William would be able to. The skin wouldn't be broken but his wrist was clearly shattered.

Sir William levered himself upright. “Yield?” he pleaded. He had bit his lip in pain and blood

stained his teeth as he raised his visor.

“The terms were to the death,” It was the Chancellors voice. I had forgotten, as had the Witcher I think for he seemed to pale a little. “Your demand Sir William, and yours, madam,” The man spoke with relish.

“Answer my questions and I'll make it quick,” Said the Witcher, the hate had left his voice.

“Yes I tortured it.”

“Did she tell you too?”

“No,” he said quietly before rousing himself “No, but on my oath she wanted me to.” Sir William looked at her then and he hated her I think at the last moment before the Witcher's sword went through his visor, his face and into his brain, killing him almost instantly.

“You asked me earlier why I needed two swords madam. You said that the Silver is for monsters and the steel for humans. It's a common mistake and I corrected you then and I remind you of it now. They are both for monsters and I just killed a monster.”

He started to walk towards her.

“He lost. Which makes all my words true. It's bound by law even, by witness no less. You madam are a debtor, a whore and a torturer of innocent beings. You hired me for a job and you refused to pay it.”

“You cheated,”

“No madam, I did not. As your witness will swear I assume?”

“I will,” said the Chancellor. The man seemed worried, there was madness in the Witchers eyes.

“You ordered the death of that troll. You ordered that man to his death. You betrayed me and your subjects and you visited pain and death on those self same subjects.” He was getting close to her now. “You are a monster madam and as a good Witcher I should kill you now. In fact...” He raised his sword and...

“That's enough,” I said as I put my hand on his shoulder. I have no memory of crossing the distance between us. “That's enough.”

Lady Josefina fled then and I saw the madness retreat from my companions eyes. I slowly took my hand away as he turned and walked into the darkness.

I took a deep breath as the chancellor walked towards me.

“That was educational,” he said. “Your friend was right of course.”

“I know it,” I answered as I felt a rage building in me. “At what stage in her development, did you all know she was a monster?”

The chancellor shrugged. “Some of us have always known.”

“Including her father?”

“Not her father, I think. He loved her as she reminded him of his wife. It made him blind. He's a good man and so we hid it from him. To spare him.”

“It didn't spare the troll though did it. Nor this knight.”

I saw my barb strike home.

“This is your fault.” I said, “As much as it is hers and his,” I gestured at the knights body.

“I know,” he said. He took a breath. “I am under orders not to pay your companion. As I am oath-sworn I must obey those orders. However the orders say nothing about the man's horse, or his arms which would probably fetch a good price,”

“As well as label us for Sir Williams murder I imagine. Can you promise me that that will be prevented?”

“They are your friends by legal right.”

“Because of course that stops nobility on a regular basis.”

He had no response to that and simply strode away.

I found Kerrass eventually. I had commandeered the knights sword and his scabbard which had more than a few large and shiny baubles on it. I also had tied his shield to his horse after covering it with my blanket as that too had some wealth on it's front. The horses bridle was similar but I couldn't bring myself to go over the man's armour. The horse was biddable enough and followed me easily. It turned out to be a stallion which told me all I needed to know about the man riding it. I figured that we could sell it for stud somewhere. Greta had promised me that we could hide at her herb cottage where she stayed when she was doing a big herb gathering session and she would lead us there as no-one would think to find us there as the guard captain was intelligent enough to be reliably stupid.

The Witcher was stood on the lip of the hill where he had been thanked by the troll. There was a strange look on his face, distant and infinitely sad. I knew he had heard me approach so I just stood there and said nothing.

“Take me away from this place,” he whispered after a long while.

We stayed at the Greta's cottage for a couple of days. She brought us supplies and the gratitude of the townsfolk in the form of some change which came out to about 120 crowns and some rather strong bottles of spirits, some of which Kerrass used to keep himself drunk over those two days. The girl had gone back to her fathers keep and turned out the guard looking for us under the charge of the murder of Sir William the Ram. Fortunately for us her father came home and ordered the guards back in short order and we were able to flee. We sold the warhorse and many of the gems on our continuing travels and in the end we more than made up for our time in that unhappy place.

I have taken some steps to keep on top of things and for those readers who keep track of such events and scandals I will say that I have disguised the names of those people involved. The girls name and the identity of those villagers are kept secret, not for her sake but for the sake of her father who turns out to have been a good man and who had raised several fine sons and at least one good daughter that I could find. They don't deserve having their name tarnished although I imagine that they will recognise themselves when and if they read about it. I didn't find out why “Josefina” came out so wrong after such generally nice people and I suspect I never will.

You will have heard about “Billy the goat gruff and the Troll” though as I paid a rather fine minstrel friend of mine to make up the story about the bullying goat who bullied the troll to death before succumbing to his greed and eating himself to death by biting off more than he could chew. I suppose it will change eventually as he tells me that people tend not to like stories where trolls are sympathetic. But he promised that such a variation wouldn't be sung by him.

Sir William the ram did exist and despite efforts by his family to hush the matter up, he did indeed die at the hands of a single man rather than the several bandits who ambushed him while he slept, exhausted, after his titanic struggle against the troll that had victimised the surrounding regions. I am told that his two brothers are seeking out those men who are trying to “sully the good name of their brother”. For a while I was a little worried by this but eventually, and with Kerrass' advice. I stopped worrying about it. They haven't turned up yet.

As for Lady Josefina. It turns out that her father flew into a rage as he also had fond memories of Tom the Troll. He retired in distress at the news of his daughters cruelty and left the castle to his eldest son who seemed of a decent sort. I only know this as his first judgement was to send the young woman off to the nearest nunnery along with her dowry which was considerable. Having commended her to the eternal flame she was declared as no longer part of the family and that was the end of that.

But it wasn't. Having spent some time in the winter looking into this sort of thing I found that she spent some time at the nunnery practising her own special brand of manipulation. Having seduced most of the men who lived locally and after several escape attempts the Mother Superior banished her to an out of the way, mountainous retreat, miles from anywhere. Undeterred, Josefina would escape regularly. Unfortunately there were no other human settlements in walking distance, certainly not for a girl like Josefina and she would often return, after a few hours of nearly freezing to death, to whatever penance would be assigned to her.

I eventually received a letter from that Mother Superior who told me most of this. She mentioned that the girl had left one day and not come back. As she hadn't come back after two days despite no stores having been stolen and therefore it being unlikely that she could be living off the land they sent a tracker out. The former Lady Josefina's body was found, recognisable, only by her attire and the colour of her hair. As for the rest of her, it looked like she had run afoul of some monster who had systematically pulverised every inch of her with a large blunt instrument. Apparently death would have been horrific but fairly quick, all things considered. Attempts were made to track the beast who was probably a troll, giant or Elemental of some kind judging by the tracks but the beast had left in the direction of rocky ground and taking up the trail from there became impossible in the freshly fallen snow and the search was abandoned given that neither the nunnery nor any of the nearby villages had been threatened or attacked.

I understand that the Mother Superior, who seemed like a formidable woman, had posted a Witcher contract but she held out little hope as the reward amount was meager and she was more doing so on the behalf of the lost soul.

I leave it to the reader to judge the matter any further.