Andrzej Sapkowski - [Witcher 06]

by The Lady of the Lake (fan translation) (epub)

  ‘We are together.’

  ‘I’m here with you,’ said Yennefer, walking down behind them on the slippery stairs.

  ‘Together! All together!’ shouted the Owl.

  The men who had run for the crossbows, quickly returned. Without the crossbows, but with horror in their eyes.

  From the three corridors leading away from the stairs came the roar and banging of doors being broken down with axes. And the sound of heavy boots marching. All of a sudden from the three corridors flowed soldiers with black helmets, shields and the silver salamander on their coats. Skellen’s mercenaries, intimidated by their shouts and threats, threw down their weapons. Those who hesitated were threatened with crossbows and pikes. After a thundering call to drop all weapons, everyone listened, because they could see the black soldiers were burning for an excuse to do something. The Owl stood on a step and crossed his arms.

  ‘The miraculous rescue,’ Ciri said in a whisper.

  Geralt shook his head.

  The crossbows and spears were turned in their direction as well.

  ‘Glaeddyvan Vort!’

  Resisting was pointless.

  Soldiers swarmed out of the mouth of the corridors like an army of black ants and both the witcher and the witcheress were very, very tired. But they did not throw down their swords. They carefully placed them on the steps. Geralt felt the warmth from Ciri’s arm and could hear her breathing.

  Above, avoiding the corpses and spilled blood, came Yennefer. She showed the soldiers her empty hands and sat down heavily on the step next to Geralt and Ciri. The witcher could felt the heat on his other arm. It is a pity it we could not stay this way forever, he thought. And he knew he could not.

  The Owl’s men were tied up and led away. Suddenly among the soldiers appeared the high ranking officers, recognisable by the white plumes and the silver trim on their breastplates, and by the respect that the other soldiers gave them.

  The soldiers before one of those officers, whose helmet had more silver ornaments than any other, parted with exceptional respect. Almost bowing.

  He stopped in front of Skellen. The Owl – it was clearly visible even in the flickering light of the torches and braziers – went pale as a sheet of paper.

  ‘Stefan Skellen,’ the officer said in a voice that rang metallically around the vaulted room. ‘I’ll see you in court. You’ll be sentence for treason.’

  The Owl was led out, but his hands were not tied.

  The officer turned around. Upstairs a burning tapestry tore itself from the wall, and floated down like a large fiery bird. The red flames gleamed on the silver ornaments on his helmet and his lowered visor, forged like all the helmets of the black soldiers into the monstrous form of a jagged mouth.

  Now it’s our turn, thought Geralt. He was right. The officer stared at Ciri. His eyes shone through the opening in his visor, watching everything without missing a detail. Her paleness. The scar on her cheek. The blood on her sleeve and hands. The white streaks in her hair.

  Then he turned his eyes to the witcher.

  ‘Vilgefortz?’ he asked in a sonorous voice.

  Geralt shook his head.

  ‘Cahir aep Ceallach?’

  Another shake of his head.

  ‘A slaughterhouse,’ said the officer, looking at the staircase. ‘A bloody slaughterhouse. We’ll he who lives by the sword … At least you spared the hangman some work. You have travelled a long way, witcher.’

  Geralt did not respond. Ciri sniffed again and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. Yennefer again scolded her with her eyes. The Nilfgaardian noticed it and smiled.

  ‘You came from the other end of the world,’ he continued. ‘For her and her. If only for that, something should be done. Lord de Rideaux!’

  ‘At your service, Your Imperial Majesty!’

  The witcher was not surprised.

  ‘Find us a discrete chamber, where I can rest and talk undisturbed with Geralt of Rivia. During that time, please provide all available services and convenience to both ladies. Obviously under the constant watch of guards.’

  ‘As you wish, Your Majesty!’

  ‘Geralt, follow me, please.’

  The witcher rose. He looked at Ciri and Yennefer, wanting to calm them, wanting to warning them not to try any nonsense. But it was not needed – they were both extremely tired. And resigned.

  * * *

  ‘You have come a long way,’ repeated Emhyr var Emreis, Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd, the White Flam Dancing on the Barrows of his Enemies.

  I don’t know,’ Geralt said calmly, ‘yours appears to have been longer, Duny.’

  ‘You’ve recognised me,’ the Emperor smiled. ‘A lack of beard and a change of behaviour changed me completely. The people who had seen me at Cintra, and came to Nilfgaard to have audience with me, no longer recognised me. And you saw me only once, after all, sixteen years ago. I was so etched in your memory?’

  ‘I did not recognise you, you’ve actually change very much. I figured out who you are already, some time ago. Not without outside help and guidance, I guessed what role you were to play in family incest with Ciri. And in one of my nightmares I once dreamed of hideous incest. And here you are, in the flesh.’

  ‘You can hardly keep your feet,’ Emhyr said coldly. ‘And your impertinence is forcing you to be even weaker. I invite you to sit in the presence of the Emperor. I grant you the privilege of …life.’

  Geralt, with relief, sat. Emhyr stood leaning against a carved cabinet.

  ‘You saved my daughter’s life,’ he said. ‘Several times. I thank you for that. On behalf of me and on behalf of my descendants.’

  ‘You leave me speechless.’

  ‘Cirilla,’ Emhyr said ignoring the sarcasm, ‘is going to Nilfgaard. In due time she will become the Empress. Like dozens of girls who become queens, without previously knowing her husband. Often times it without a good concept of the first encounter with their husband. Often they are disappointed by the first few days … and nights of marriage. Cirilla is not the first.’

  Geralt declined to comment.

  ‘Cirilla,’ continued the Emperor, ‘will be happy, like most of the queens I just spoke about. It will come with time. I will not demand love from her but will transfer it to the son that Cirilla will bear for me. Archduke and future Emperor. An Emperor, who will beget a son. A son who will be ruler of the world and who will save the world from destruction. So says the prophecy, whose precise content, only I know …’

  The White Flame thought for a moment and continued.

  ‘It is clear that Cirilla must never know who I really am. The secret must die. Along with those who know it.’

  ‘Sure’ Geralt nodded. ‘It could not be clearer.’

  ‘You cannot help noticing,’ Emhyr said after a moment, ‘the hand of fate in everything that has happened. All of it. Also in your actions. From the very beginning.’

  ‘Rather, I see the hand of Vilgefortz. It was he who sent you to Cintra, right? When you were an enchanted hedgehog? It was he who made Pavetta …’

  ‘You are shooting in the dark,’ Emhyr interrupted abruptly, throwing his salamander cloak over his shoulder. ‘You don’t know anything. And you don’t need to know. I did not ask you here to relate the story of my life. Nor to explain myself to you. The only thing you deserve is to ensure that the girl will come to no harm. I do not have any debts to you, witcher. No …’

  ‘You!’ Geralt interrupted. ‘You broke a signed contract. You broke your word! You lied! These are your debts, Duny! You broke your oaths as a prince, and you have debts as an Emperor. With imperial interest. For ten years!’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘That’s it. Because that is all that is mine, nothing more. But no less! I had to introduce myself to collect the girl when she turned six. I waited on the agreed upon date, but you wanted to steal the child before that time. But the fates, of which you speak, have mocked you. During the next ten years you tired to fight destiny.
Now it is your turn, you have Ciri, your own daughter, who you once shamefully deprived of parents and with whom you now want to shamelessly spawn incestuous offspring. You don’t ask for her love? Pah, you don’t have the right to her love! Between us, Duny, how can you look her in the eyes?’

  ‘The end justifies the means,’ the Emperor said flatly. ‘I do it for the future of the world. For its salvation.’

  ‘If you have to save the world like this,’ the witcher lifted his head, ‘this world would be better off disappearing. Believe me, Duny; it would be better to perish.’

  ‘You are weak,’ Emhyr var Emreis said gently. ‘Do not get excited, you look like you’re about to faint.’

  He moved from the cabinet, pulled up a chair and sat down. The witcher’s head was indeed spinning.

  ‘The Iron Hedgehog,’ Emhyr var Emreis said calmly and quietly, ‘was a way of forcing my father to cooperate with the usurper to the throne. After the coup, my father, the Emperor was deposed, imprisoned and tortured. He did not break; however, because the usurping Duke devised something else – before his eyes, he had a hired sorcerer turn his only son into a monster. The sorcerer also had a sense of humour. In our language, Emhyr means hedgehog. My father did not break then, so he was killed. I was driven by mockery and insults to the forest and chased by dogs. Fortunately they did not pursue me too fiercely, because the sorcerer botched the job, and from midnight until dawn I returned to human form, it saved my life. I was just thirteen years old. I knew several people on whose fidelity I could rely on. But even so, I had to flee the country. A crackpot astrologer called Xarthisius had read in the stars that the cure to the spell could be found in the North, beyond the Marnadal Steps. Later, as the Emperor, I gave him in payment for his services a tower and good equipment. At that time he had to work with borrow equipment. As for what happened at Cintra, you already know, and I won’t waste your time. The truth is that Vilgefortz had nothing to do with it. First, I still didn’t know him. And second, I still felt a deep aversion to sorcerers. To this day, I still do not like them. Oh by the way, when I reclaimed the throne, I apprehended the sorcerer who had served the usurper and who had turned me into a monster in front of my father. I, too, showed a sense of humour. The sorcerer’s name was Braathens, which in our language is the same as the word “fried”. Well, enough digression, back to the subject at hand. After the birth of Ciri, Vilgefortz secretly visited me in Cintra. He introduced himself as a confidant of those who remained faithful to me in Nilfgaard. He offered me his help and soon demonstrated that he could help. When I asked incredulously the motives for his actions, he did not deny relying on my gratitude. His plans were to win wealth and power, which the future Emperor of Nilfgaard would provide him – me. A mighty ruler who would rule half the world and raise offspring, who would dominate the whole world. The wizard bluntly admitted that he wish to achieve a high position. The he pulled out a scroll tied with snakeskin and acquainted me with the content. So I knew of the prophecy, I learned about the future fate of the world and I realised what I must do. And I have come to believe that the end justifies the means.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Meanwhile, in Nilfgaard,’ Emhyr ignored Geralt’s comment, ‘my business was on track. My supporter had gained more and more influence and had won a group of army officers and cadets over to our side and prepared for a coup. However, I was also imperative. In person. The rightful heir to the throne and imperial crown, the rightful Emreis of the Emreis lineage. I would be the flag of revolution. Between you and me, a lot of revolutionaries harboured a hope that that was all I would be. Those who are still alive still can’t get over it. But I digress. I had to go home. It was time that Duny, Prince of Maecht and false prince of Cintra, claim his heritage. However, I had not forgotten about the prophecy. I had to go back there with Ciri. But Calanthe was very carefully looking over my shoulder.’

  ‘She never trusted you.’

  ‘I know. I think she knew something about the prophecy. She would do anything to stop me and Cintra was in her power. It was clear, I had to go back to Nilfgaard, but in a way that no one would know that I was Duny and that Ciri was my daughter. Vilgefortz suggested a way. Duny, Pavetta and their child were to die, disappear without a trace …’

  ‘The faked sinking ship.’

  ‘Right. While sailing from Skellige to Cintra we had been driven by magic to the Sedna Abyss, where Vilgefortz pulled our boat into the maelstrom. I, Pavetta and Ciri would be close in a specially protected cabin and survive. The crew …’

  ‘They would not survive,’ finished the witcher. ‘Then began your journey over the corpses.’

  ‘It started a little earlier,’ he said after a moment in a dully voice. ‘When it became clear that Ciri was not on board.’

  Geralt raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Alas,’ said the Emperor flatly. ‘I underestimated Pavetta in my plans. This melancholy girl with downcast eye constantly watched me and my intentions. Just before leaving she smuggled our daughter back to the mainland. I raved. She, too. She had an attack of hysteria. In the scuffle … she fell overboard. Before I could jump in behind her, Vilgefortz pulled the ship into the maelstrom. I hit my head and lost consciousness. I survived only by a miracle, caught in the rigging. I woke up and bandaged up. I had a broken arm and …’

  ‘I wonder,’ said the witcher coldly, ‘what a man fells after murdering his wife?’

  ‘Worse than a mangy dog,’ Emhyr replied promptly. ‘I felt worse than a mangy dog, like a true scoundrel. Even the fact that I never loved her didn’t change that. The end justified the means. However, I regret her death, I did not want it and I did not plan it. Pavetta died accidentally.’

  ‘You’re lying,’ Geralt said dryly, ‘and it does not become an Emperor. Pavetta could not live. She would have denounced you. She would never let you do what you intend to do to Ciri.’

  ‘She would have lived,’ Emhyr contradicted him. ‘Somewhere else … Somewhere far away. There are many remote castles … perhaps Darn Rowan … I would not have killed her …’

  ‘Even for the purpose that justifies the means?’

  ‘Always,’ the Emperor rubbed his forehead, ‘you use a less drastic solution. There are always many options available.’

  ‘Not always,’ said the witcher, looking into his eyes. Emhyr avoided his gaze.

  ‘Just what I thought,’ Geralt nodded. ‘Finish your story. Time is running out.’

  ‘Calanthe guarded her granddaughter like the apple of her eye. I could not even dream of kidnap … My relationship with Vilgefortz had cooled considerably, and I still held a grudge against other sorcerers … But the military and aristocracy were pushing me to go to war, encouraging me to attack Cintra. The nation needed living space and the vox populi would be considered this my test as Emperor. I decided to kill two birds with one stone. I would take in one fell swoop, Cintra and Ciri. The rest you know.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ said Geralt. ‘Thanks for the chat, Duny. Appreciate you take the time, but let’s not wait any longer. I am very tired. I’ve seen the death of friends who followed me here from the end of the world. To save your daughter. They did not even know her, except for Cahir; none of them had seen her. They came to save her because there was something in them that was worthy and noble. And for what? To find death. I don’t think that is fair. And if anyone is interested, I’m not satisfied. Because a story in which good people die and the rogues live is bullshit. I have no more strength, Emperor. Call your men.’

  ‘Witcher …’

  ‘The secret must die along with those who know it, you said so yourself. You have no other way out. There are no other solutions. If I escape from prison I’ll come for Ciri. It is the price I must pay and you know it.’

  ‘I know it.’

  ‘You can spare Yennefer’s life. She does not know the secret.’

  ‘She,’ Emhyr said seriously, ‘would pay any price to take my Ciri. And to avenge your death.’

 
‘True,’ said the witcher. ‘I almost forgot how much she loves the girl. You’re right, Duny. We cannot escape our destiny. I have a request …’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Let me say goodbye to both of them. Then I am at your disposal.’

  Emhyr stood up, walked to the window and stared out the dark portal.

  ‘I cannot deny this. But …’

  ‘Do not worry; I won’t say anything to Ciri. It would hurt her severely, if I told her who you are. And I cannot hurt her.’

  After a long silence, Emhyr turned from the window.

  ‘Maybe I do have some debt to you,’ he turned on his heel. ‘Listen to what I have to offer. Once, long ago, when people still valued truth, honour and pride, they stood behind their words and feared only shame, it would happened that a person sentenced to death could escape humiliation by being handed a dagger or razor, and stepping into a tub of warm water and opening a vein. Do you think that …’

  ‘Command a tub to be filled.’

  ‘Do you believe,’ the Emperor said quietly, ‘that the Lady Yennefer would accompany you in the tub?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure. But I will have to ask. She has quite a rebellious nature.’

  ‘I know.’

  * * *

  Yennefer agreed without hesitation.

  ‘Full circle,’ she said, staring speculatively at her wrist. ‘Uroboros is biting his own tail.’

  * * *

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Ciri spluttered like an angry cat, ‘I don’t see why I should go with him! Why? Where are you going?’

  ‘My daughter,’ Yennefer said quietly. ‘This is your destiny. You’ll see, it cannot be otherwise.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘Us,’ Yennefer looked at Geralt, ‘a different destiny awaits us. Nor can it be otherwise. Come to me, my daughter. Hold me tight.’

  ‘They want to kill you! I will not allow it! After all, we have only just been reunited! This is not fair!’

  ‘He who lives by the sword,’ Emhyr var Emreis said dully,’ dies by the sword. They both fought with me and lost. But they lose with dignity.’