A Scholar's travels with a Witcher

So here it is. The long awaited, by my publisher at least, account of the coronation of Her Majesty, Cirilla Elen Fiona Riannon, Empress of the Greater Nilfgaardian Empire, Queen of Cintra, Princess of Brugge and Duchess of Sodden. Heiress to Inis Ard Skellig and Inis An Skellig, and Suzeraine of Attre and Abb Yarra.

It was an incredible time an amazing time and so much happened there in that fairytale duchy of Toussaint, but even as I sit here now, in a road-side tavern a weeks hard riding to the north. I can't think where to begin.

It was the site of my greatest triumph and also the place of my greatest failure. People tell me now that both of those events will pale in comparison to those events that will come afterwards but right now?....

Right now I don't know where to begin.

As I have mentioned previously I was waiting on the production of a couple of items before I headed south and truth be told I was chafing at the delays. But I couldn't do without either item so I spent my time making notes on the trials of the Witcher schools as well as tidying up some of my more academic work and sending it all off to be compiled, edited and bound by the university.

The rest of my family had departed for the south some weeks earlier, Emma to go and represent the Mercantile interests of the Coulthard family. She had also been invited to come along to help represent the Redanian treasury in the coming negotiations as the chancellor of Redania had been summoned to give account of the Kingdom before the new Empress. I don't know who was at the root of this invite but it strikes me as unlikely that the Chancellor himself will have sent that word as he is an older man. Very old money and equally as set in his ways.

Mark was there as both the Baron von Coulthard and Arch-Bishop of Tretogor. It seems silly to me now but I still didn't know how I felt about Brother Mark back before I set off to come south.

Sam was there as being the Lord Kalayn. His title had not yet been set. He was hoping to be named as Count Kalayn but our families political enemies were kicking up a fuss that our family was beginning to become owners of quite a bit of land in Redania and they saw that as our being power hungry. Sam was playing it cool and continuously playing up to the fact that he was still actively serving as part of the military rather than just looking after his own power and wealth. He was doing quite well at it too but the fact that the Kalayn name was being said in the same breath as their being declared as heretics, as in “Those Heretic Kalayns,” was counting against him.

The other problem that we were having was my role in the freeing of the Princess Dorn. Her suddenly coming back to life and the freeing of that country from under the yoke of...whatever it was formerly under the yoke of had resulted in quite a bit of resentment from the Southern Nilfgaardian lords. The country's status and the status of the Princess herself was still a little up in the air but a large contingent of the standing Nilfgaardian army had been sent to her nation. I wondered at the time if this was some kind of gesture. They were on their way but hadn't got there yet meaning that they could turn aside at any time but they were also still marching through the neighbouring states which, by obscene coincidence, were also the states that were complaining the loudest.

My absence was being seen as being cowardly, despite the often repeated line that my duties were keeping me in the north, but I was looking forward on heading south and seeing if any of those accusations would be said to my face.

Then there was the fact that Francesca was going to be there and I couldn't wait. We had already been told by letter which had been confirmed by other people that wherever the Empress goes, Francesca was sure to follow and I was desperate to see my little sister. It has been said by many that my parents had kept trying with their children until they finally got it right and when they did get it right, in producing Francesca, they got it so right that they didn't bother having another go. I had last seen her when she was fourteen, she had gone south to court when she was sixteen in an effort to join the then heir to the throne's entourage. It had been considered a long shot by many, including me, but it seemed to have paid off as nothing could stop my sister when she was in a full on charm offensive and somehow, she and the Empress had managed to become friends. Another thing that made our enemies nervous.

So all in all I was resentful with the affairs that kept me in the north.

In the end though Emma had put her foot down and declared that I was going to come south the day before the Empresses coronation. That deadline was passed on to the contractors that were constructing those special items for me and the dwarf and gnome in charge of the construction of those items nodded, counted the truly ridiculous amount of money that I gave them and told me that the things would be ready in time.

I did have one thing in my favour. Where Emma goes, now too goes Laurelen. One of the benefits of having a Sorcerer as an all-but-sister-in-law, means that the use of a transport gate is much more feasible.

That and I had to go and deliver my Thesis to the faculty of Oxenfurt university.

It was awful. Possibly the most terrifying experience of my life.

Yes, including all the monsters that I've had to face. Because then I had some kind of outlet, I could hit them back, scream shout or otherwise carry on. I even had the potential of Kerrass along as back up.

But this time I was on my own before half a dozen old, grumpy men. At least one of who's work I had systematically destroyed in the writing of my thesis proving that not all monsters were natural and that indeed some monsters would go out of their way to hunt and sleep in areas that the old man in question had declared was quite impossible.

He hadn't taken it well but it seems that he had been brought to the panel in an effort to get under my skin on the grounds that, to properly exhibit some academic work then it needs to be challenged by other people and I needed challenging.

He called me a hack and a drunken wastrel who expected to get by on the money that my family had sent me during the many misspent hours on the road with a fraud.

I called him a dried up old stick who wouldn't know a genuine monster if it jumped up out of the primordial sludge that the Pontar had become and bit him in half. I argued that he would still be complaining that the monster in question couldn't possibly exist while he was still disappearing down the thing's gullet.

He didn't take it well.

But at the same time I passed. I had a briefly and excruciatingly nerve-racking period while I waited outside the office for my results. My tutor had made his own opinion on the matter and had come out to keep me company.

“How do you think you did?” he asked me, smiling.

“Flame but how can you ask me that?” For reference I was standing facing the wall and leaning on it using only my forehead.

“You must have some idea.” He teased.

“I really really don't. I will say this though. If I don't pass because of that shrivelled turd of a Professor then I'm going to take this opportunity to kill him on the grounds that he shouldn't be allowed to pollute the minds of perfectly innocent students with his assumptions, prejudices and ignorance.”

“Everyone is entitled to their own opinions Frederick,”

“Which is precisely what his are, opinions. If he had actually faced down a charging basilisk like my source has then I might hold those same “opinions” in higher regard but I'm fairly confident that he hasn't lifted his arse up from the arm chair in which he formed those opinions for two decades.”

Fortunately for both of us the door opened then and we were invited back in where the six of them told me that I had passed unanimously.

“Hang on,” I said glaring at my enemy who was grinning at me from behind the desk. “You hate me. I've spent most of my academic career telling everyone who'll listen how utterly wrong you are. But you voted for me to qualify?”

“Why yes,” said the old man straightening and taking a glass from the tray of port that was being passed around. “I haven't had this much fun in years. Your theories on the mutation of the species are most enlightening of course.”

“Bastard,” I said into his twinkling eyes.

So that's my other piece of news. I am now a fully credited Proffessor of Anthropology of the university of Oxenfurt. They did ask me whether I wanted to be referred to as Professor or Doctor. I told them to call me Professor as I wasn't sure that I would be able to look Shani in the eye if they called me Doctor. We spent some time discussing my subjects, lecture availability and areas of expertise when a couple of things were made clear to me. The first was that the University was proud of my wanderings and the work that I had done to bring to light various things and to raise the public profile and opinion of what the university was capable of. They told me that they hoped that I would continue in that regard and looked forward to reading future chapters. I was told that it had been defined and codified that the thing that I would be known for would be the introduction of the tome “On Witchers,” by me. The first volumes of which would be collected from the previous articles that I had written as well as some of the more academic texts that I had provided.

It should also be mentioned that I needed to add a couple of chapters on the history of the Witchers as to where they came from and such. I haven't really gone into them here as the explanation is rather dry and I haven't found anything concrete enough to set to paper.

Kerrass has no understanding of who the first Witchers were or the specifics of how they were created either so I wouldn't suggest that it would be a good idea to ask him.

They asked me about my immediate plans for the future and I told them that that was a little up in the air as I wasn't sure how free Kerrass was and even if he would want to carry on our journeys together. I told them all that I would be seeing him at the coronation and would be able to talk to him then. I promised that if we were going to set off on the road straight away then I would at least let them know, otherwise they had a series of lectures that they wanted me to give as well as a book that needed compiling and proof reading.

I was also told that the Arch chancellor of the university was heading south for the coronation himself and as such my graduation was going to happen there so that my family could see it happen. I accused them of the viva just being there to satisfy their own sick senses of humour as they already knew that I was going to pass.

I also commented that they hadn't bothered to deny it.

But I rode back in good spirits, stopping off at the Dwarven smiths who presented me with the items that I had ordered with a certain air of royalty deigning to allow me to touch the crown jewels.

He had done me proud and all of my frustration at the amount of time it had taken to make and the cost of the items vanished as I accepted a demonstration of the one piece and held the other up to the light.

I rode up to the castle and through the gates to find Captain Froggart of the family guard practically hopping from one foot to the other in frustration.

“You're required at the castle sir.”

“So? Who by and what for?”

“Sir,” The Captain glared at me, his head cocked slightly to one side.

“No seriously Captain who requires me?”

“I do,” came a voice from the horse trough.

“What?” I stamped over to the water and looked in to see Emma and Laurelen looking out of the water at me.

“Why are the two of you in a horse trough?” In my defence it was the first thing that came to mind. Not my wittiest moment of repartee but there you go.

“Because it was the first chance we had of knowing where you were.” Emma was being snippy. Never a good sign.

“Okay?”

Emma sighed. “Captain Froggart?”

“Yes ma'am.” I had that much warning before I was liberally soaked in ice cold water.

“Wake up Freddie, it's time for you to come south. The Empress is asking for you.”

“Why's the Empress asking for me?”

“She won't tell us. She keeps saying a single line over and over again which is “The interesting thing about being Empress is that you don't have to explain yourself to anyone,”.”

“But she's not empress yet.”

“Do you think that matters to the legion of Imperial Guard that follow her around, practically vibrating with the desire to do violence to anyone that might annoy her,”

“Fair point,”

“So get yourself changed and be in the castle entrance in twenty minutes when there'll be a gate waiting for you.”

“But...”

“No time for that.”

“But I...”

“No time for that either, off you go.”

The image vanished from the water. I spent some time staring down into the trough debating whether or not it would be needlessly petty to piss into the water, or spit or something.

Probably needlessly cruel to the horses though.

“Sir,” Captain Froggart prompted.

“I'm surprised at you Captain I thought we were friends.”

“With respect sir, I am under orders to physically drag you up to the keep where there is a bath waiting that I am to throw you into whether you are dressed or not. If you are not ready for transport when the gate is established I have been told in certain terms that I will be turned into a cow, a female one, and made pregnant, before being milked every day for the rest of my life.”

“Yikes.”

“I think my response was a little more...forceful than that sir, so if I might suggest that we...” He gestured up the hill towards the keep and I allowed myself to be led.

There was indeed a bath. I managed to shave and get into some fresh clothes in time for the gate to be established. I already knew that my sister had arranged for more appropriate attire for the courtly proceedings of Toussaint and that those garments would be ready by the time that I arrived. So the only thing that I needed to take were my weapons and armour, my deliveries from the dwarf and myself.

Why did I take my weapons? Because Kerrass was going to be there. As well as doing a lot of writing I had been training hard while we had been separated and I absolutely expected for him to demand a match or three.

That and I also had some hopes that I might run into Sir Robart de Radford who I'm told was going to be there. As it turns out, he wasn't but I still packed my spear and knife. Joking aside I didn't really think about it. My weapons went everywhere with me now and rightly so. Kerrass had drilled these habits into me and he was correct to do so. Even during my trips to and from Oxenfurt I still wore my leathers and had the spear strapped to the saddle next to me. Maybe that makes me one of these “street toughs” that people preach against in pulpits up and down the country, I can't answer for that but I was enough of a believer in luck that the one time that I didn't strap my spear to my side when going for a walk would be the one time that I got attacked by someone.

But I was waiting there in the entrance hall, my hair might still have been wet and the skin on my face was still burning from how quick the shave had had to be but I was ready.

If you've never had to travel by gate it's the strangest thing to watch. I'm not going to recommend it or warn you against using gate travel but just be aware that it comes with it's own challenges. The first is that it makes a mess which is why a lot of magic users prefer to create the gates outside where there is less random debris to be caught up and thrown around by the gates in question.

It looks like water spiralling down a hole. Only the water is inky black and there is runic writing on the outside of the hole. I had travelled once before and I thought that I was prepared for this journey. That was a lie. It still looked so odd, so unearthly as you look at this hole that has just been ripped into existence that I stood staring at it for a solid thirty seconds trying to properly see it and take it in. Until Laurelen's voice came from a mirror that was nearby.

“Step through the damn gate. We haven't got all day.”

As though kicked, and feeling much younger than I actually am I picked up my boxes and bags and jumped through the gate.

Touissant greeted me with warmth, lots of noise and the perfume of many different kinds of flowers all at once. It was an assault on my senses, bright colours clashed in my eyes, scents arrived in my nostrils and the sounds of people cheering as well as the distant sounds of hoof beats and combat.

“Come on, step off the platform.” A man in ludicrously coloured Red and Yellow tabard with a frilly ruffed collar and a beret yelled at me. “You're the Coulthard gate aren't you?”

“What?”

I would have laughed then if I hadn't been left disoriented by the gate and the arrival in Toussaint. He had a pair of lenses wedged on top of his nose and a wooden board in his hand that held a set of notes. There was a table nearby with an egg timer on it. He also had a ludicrously oversized moustache which he blew out in exasperation.

“Clear the portal, damn your eyes. Do you think you're the only transport coming in today?”

Startled and feeling a little silly, I sheepishly picked up my packages and moved off the platform.

The man harrumphed as I did so making himself an even greater figure of comedy.

It turns out I was standing on a smallish wooden platform with steps up to it and so I carried my bags off it and down to the bottom where I found Laurelen waiting for me. I hadn't seen her for a couple of months and we embraced warmly.

“It's good to see you,” I said, “despite your ordering of Captain Froggart to tip a bucket of cold water over me.”

“That was your sister,” she said grinning, “although I will admit that it was funny to see. Here let me look at you,” She frowned at my face and adjusted my clothing a little. “We need to get you off to get changed.”

“But I'm wearing my best...”

“They might have stood you in good stead in the North but down here it's a whole other thing. Just give your things to...”

A servant appeared wearing Coulthard livery. I had never seen him before in my life but he whisked my bags and packages out of my hands and set off at a run to the palace.

The platform turned out to have been set up in the gardens of Toussaint palace. The palace itself really is like every fairy tale castle that you've ever seen. Soaring towers of white stone topped by red tiles and huge windows. Flowers under every window and flags rising high over every tower. From where we stood we could see down into the capital city, a sprawling mass of red roofs and painted walls, further down was the harbour and I could see many ships anchored off out in the wide river. The port pilots being ferried around at what looked like a frantic pace as more and more ships arrived and deposited their loads on the docks below.

Toussaint is a wonderful place and I would recommend that, if you can, you go to visit at least once. But I'm not sure that I would want to live there.

There was a stark contrast as well between Toussaint as a whole and the black armoured Nilfgaardians that lined the walk ways and paths in comparison to the gaudily dressed and armoured “Knights Errant,” that strode up and down the walkways. If you do find yourself in Toussaint and you see one of these huge men walking towards you. I advise you to get out of the way. It's not that they're being rude or anything but, due to the armour as well as being too busy looking around for any wrong that they might be able to correct whether wanted to or not, they simply haven't seen you. Also, if you decide to take offence at this, I would just warn you that they are phenomenally good with their weapons and regularly attack hordes of bandits, single handedly and are expected to win.

Which they do.

Do not be taken in by their gaudy armour, over the top manners and ridiculous morals . These men are absolutely justified in their arrogance.

But as the Empress was currently in residence, there was a sharp contrast between these gaudily dressed men and the black armoured, faceless and anonymous soldiers of the Imperial guard who stood, motionless in armour that must have been baking hot. As you walked past them you could see their eyes flitting around. Making notes of everyone and seeing everything.

The contrast between the two was jarring.

I have spoken with a number of residents of Toussaint in the mean time and they tell me that I have not necessarily seen Toussaint at it's best. Toussaint is, apparently, best experienced when it is quieter and not at the centre of a vast international gathering. It was as though the entire place had gone over the top in insisting that we see Toussaint in all it's glory and as a result it lacked some of the subtlety that I'm told exists in the quieter times of year.

In short, Toussaint was everything that I had been led to believe, all of that and more.

“What's that all about?” I asked Laurelen, gesturing over my shoulder at the platform.

“The Lodge put their foot down,” She took my arm possessively and pulled me close. A move that she had copied from Emma. “As there were so many people transporting in from various places there was a concern that the gates would interfere with each other and mishaps would occur.”

“I wish someone had told me that before I walked into one.”

“Oh the danger is long past. But the Lodge decided that there needed to be one person using a gate at a time and always from the same place in an effort to mitigate any problems. Of course the Lodge was ignored at first but After Philippa was done with the offending parties, people soon learned to do what they were told. The Duchess was expansive in her desire to be accommodating and had this platform constructed for the purpose, upsetting the head gardener as his prize rose bush was under there or so I'm told.”

“It's all fun and games,”

“Until someone gets chopped in half by an errant gate it is anyway. I suggested that they could achieve the same effect by having the location be in a cellar but Phillipa wanted it to be somewhere public so that people could see the magic users coming and going.”

“Ahh, politics.”

Laurelen was looking well. She had let her hair grow out since she had been “outed” with our family problems and to all intents and purposes had become my sister's wife. Instead of having a Lord and Lady of the castle we had a Lady and Lady of the castle. The vast majority of the servants didn't care enough to quit over the gender of the person that was giving them orders and the guards of our castle soon weeded out those men who didn't like it who then left to go and pursue other employment opportunities elsewhere. The only problems that had come up was that we had begun to get a bit of a reputation as being a “fighting” castle as anyone who mocked or insulted the “Ladies of Castle Coulthard” could expect to be punched by a listening man or harangued by a listening woman. My sister's stance on the matter was that the old guard hated us anyway for being wealthy and powerful despite being from new money so why not embrace our eccentric reputation and use it for progressiveness. I was all for it despite being a bit concerned that it might alienate some of the older guard.

But yes, Laurelen was looking well. She had put on a little weight since I had seen her last, which suited her as she had been far too thin when pretending to be a servant, and was wearing a beautiful golden dress with Emerald ear-rings and another Emerald stone set in a pendant. She was smiling easily and nodded and waved little greetings to people that she knew and recognised as well as acknowledging those knights who saluted her in passing. I got more than one envious look from those self same knights which I found endlessly amusing in both directions.

“How are they taking it down here?”

“Taking what?”

“You and Emma.”

“Oh,” she laughed, “They find it oddly heroic. Romantic love rather than courtly love was all but invented down here and as a result they seem quite relaxed about it, helped by the fact that the Duchess is a formidable woman in her own right. They do occasionally seem to get confused when someone offers us a slight of some kind as they are used to one of us turning to the man on our arm to “deal with the ruffian” but then we turn to each other and laugh in the idiot's face.”

I laughed with her. “I would like to see that,”

“Oh you will get the chance.”

“How are things going with the Lodge of Sorceresses as a whole?”

I was surprised as Laurelen snorted a kind of laughter.

“Sorry,” she said, “It's kind of funny. Personally speaking I think it would be a good idea if they all just gave it up as a bad idea and tried again. It's almost comical with how badly it all works out.”

“Ariadne did suggest that in her last letter,”

“Yes well. They're all here but for how long I'm not quite sure. Here's how it goes. Phillipa Eilhart thinks and acts like she's in charge but isn't really. She feels out her seniority a bit as she was the one who came up with the idea in the first place. But the truth is that she was kicked out of her position in Redania and humiliated which meant that she was out of “the game” when everyone else was rising to prominence.

“The Empress is a member and the rest of the lodge would do what they were told if the Empress ordered them to but at the end of the day, she is young and is far too busy making sure that the world doesn't tear itself apart so she's hardly ever in attendance. I'm getting most of this second hand you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Madame Yennefer of Vengerberg is a member but declares frequently and often that she is retired from the world of politics. She likes to spend time with her Witcher on a vineyard, near here actually, and generally doesn't care enough to take part. She fell out with the Lodge and Phillipa in particular during the second Nilfgaardian war as Yennefer was “seen” to betray the lodge in an effort to find the young girl who is now the Empress. But, it turned out that the girl turned out to be Empress and listens to madame Yennefer's advice on many things.”

“Is the lady Yennefer taking advantage of that situation?”

“It would seem not. But who can tell what's going on in private. She sits in council meetings and reads her book, much to the annoyance of the Empress' other courtiers. The Lodge wants her to exert her influence over the Empress but daren't press the matter as the Empress is another member and if they piss off Madame Yennefer...”

“Who is so well known for her gentle and tolerant disposition.”

Laurelen giggled, “Quite. If they piss her off then they can kiss goodbye to any influence that they might have with the Empress.

“Triss Merigold is the really powerful one in terms of support from other mages as she's still in charge of the contingent that went north. She doesn't throw her weight around but all that does is give everyone else nightmares about what would happen if she did throw her weight around.

“Keria Metz has picked up a Witcher of her own and has a lot of influence in scholarly circles,”

“Yes I've heard about that. Hasn't she discovered a cure to the plague?”

“Apparently so. It has yet to be proven in the real world but it's cured some reasonable lab specimens. Margarita doesn't care for politics and keeps insisting that the important thing is to build a new magical academy after Aretuza on Thanedd was burned to the ground by fanatics.

“Lady Fringilla Vigo is keeping herself to herself and hardly stirs herself. When I asked Triss about it yesterday it would seem that Lady Vigo is... troubled and doesn't quite know what to do with herself. Legitimacy after the last war has come.... hard for her. Too long hiding and acting undercover maybe.”

“What about the elves?”

“Francesca Findabair and Ida Emean aep Sivney. They are both staying quiet. I suspect that they are waiting to see what the new Empress is going to say about the Elves and other Elder races before they decide what to for themselves.”

“So let me get this straight. Phillipa Eilhart wants to be in charge but if Ms Merigold, Madame Yennefer, The Empress, or Ms Metz actually put their foot down then Ms Eilhart would discover that she's standing on sand. Only Ms Metz and this Margarita person are looking to the future and the whole thing therefore renders the Lodge of Sorceresses a bit redundant.”

“Pretty much.”

“They've won. The world's most powerful monarch is both a woman and a Sorceress in her own right,”

“And from what I've been told, is more powerful than the rest of them put together.”

“Heh,”

“Also, with your Ariadne...”

“She's not my anything,”

“And her friend, Maleficent the dragon Sorceress stepping into the fold as well...”

“How are they settling in?”

“Well, I understand overtures are being made towards both of them. Ariadne tells me that she's wary. She's very aware that people tolerate her at best and that if she suddenly seems to have more power than she should then that could turn the countryside and the male magic users against the lodge,”

We looked at each other, “Again,” we said in Unison.

“So she's being very cautious,” Laurelen went on. “Maleficent has also been approached but not actually invited yet. I understand that she laughed aloud and responded with “You understand that I'm a dragon right? How long is it going to be before I get bored and just fly off?””

I snorted in laughter. “I can see that,”

“Plus it turns out that the two of them know Francesca and Ida from times gone by. It would seem that the dragon and the vampire didn't get on with the Elves but in the intervening times, the dragon and the vampire have gotten over it. You know that old thing about, the enemy I've known for longest is a closer friend than some friends I have?”

“Yes, Ariadne and Maleficent said something similar about each other.”

“So if the two of them join under the original terms of the lodge which is that each member has an equal vote then suddenly there's an “ancient creature” bloc of votes that people would need to take into account.”

“What about you?”

“Do you know, since my relationship with your sister came out, my stock has inexplicably risen with the others?”

“Has it now,”

“Yes. It would seem that I am suddenly in vogue. Truth be told I'm trying to avoid it. They want me to use my influence with your sister to further the Lodge's agenda. Which I'm not willing to do or even think about.”

I found that I was letting out a breath that I had been holding. “Would you take it badly if I told you that I was glad about that?”

She hugged my arm in response. I had become fond of Laurelen since finding out about her and Emma's relationship. The fact that she made Emma so happy was an undeniable part of that and when the two of them were together they were sickeningly cute.

“How's Brother Mark dealing with the two of you?”

A shadow passed over her face but I was too late to decipher what it actually was.

“Best he tells you himself.”

“That bad?”

She shook her head. “There are some things that you should find out from the original source Freddie.”

“Ok. Anything else I should know about before I leap into the monsters den?”

“No I don't think so. Congratulations by the way.”

“Thank you very much. Is Kerrass here yet?”

“He's here. He said to say hello if I saw you before he did. He and the rest of the Witcher contingent are staying at a vineyard close to here. I'm told it's a few hours ride from the town, place called Corvo Bianco. The Empress wanted them housed at the palace but Madame Yennefer made one of her few comments towards governing and told the Empress not to be foolish. Personally I think it would have been rather entertaining to let the Witchers descend en masse into the courtly population of the continent but the Empress saw Lady Yennefer's point and they were put up out at the vineyard.”

“How many of them are there?”

“I think there's around a dozen in attendance. Mostly Cats and Wolves but a couple of Viper's have arrived from wherever they were hiding and I understand that a Witcher from the bear school has come down from the far north.”

“That should be interesting.”

“Maybe. They're currently acting as guards to the Empress' person. A task for which they're ridiculously over qualified but also a little redundant.”

We moved on over to the palace before walking down the hill and over the bridge into the town itself. All the while Laurelen brought me up to speed with all of the little pieces of gossip and courtier politics that wasn't really important but might come up in the near future.

The Coulthards turned out to have been put up in one of the smaller villa's overlooking the outdoor market. As we descended the hill that overlooked the town we could see a vast sea of tents off to where I knew that the tournament ground was. I knew that Sam was out there somewhere along with many of the other competitors in the Empress' coronation games. Apparently they had already been going for a week and would likely be going for several weeks of a month afterwards before a final champion would be crowned. Mark was housed with the Church of the Eternal fire contingent. Again, not because we wanted to throw him out but it meant that there was more room otherwise. As a result I ended up sharing a tiny little villa with my Sister and her Lover.

I assumed, correctly, that Francesca was staying up at the palace.

It was a quaint little square building with a veranda which was covered with plotted plants that were in full bloom. Those flowers chosen because of the strong scents that they generated in an effort to disguise the fact that the already large city had tripled in size due to all the extra visitors as well as all of the merchants and tradespeople that such gatherings attract. It was a nice little villa, the walls were painted to show the story of some knight or another chasing off some kind of monster before returning to the happy embrace of the lady that he rescued. I slept on a pallet in the main room with the single bedroom being used by the women. It seemed that privacy was a luxury that would belong to other people. The downstairs was taken up by three servants that had been provided for us by the Duchess. One to cook, small meals and breakfasts mostly, one to clean and one to “see to” any other needs that might arise. All three were women and I wondered what needs they had been ordered to take care of.

I was grateful for their cooking though. They had obviously been well briefed. Generally, Toussaint cooking mainly involves wine. This isn't really that much of a surprise given the fact that wine is their major source of income, but after you've eaten a few different meals made from the stuff it soon begins to become a bit rich all the time. Over the time that we stayed there though they provided many simple meals such as steak or sausages or varieties of other cooked meats and breads and cheeses without all of the over rich sauces that made me need to visit the outhouses at all hours of the day or night.

As I walked through the doors, just behind the servants who were dropping off my bags and packages I was met by a ballistic big sister to the face who threw her arms round me.

“Congratulations,” she cried giving me a huge sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks,” I said trying, vainly to lever myself off in an effort to do important things like breathing and keeping my ribs from being cracked again. In the end I decided that it was wiser to just accept my fate of being suffocated with affection and hugged her back.

“It's about fucking time,” Emma eventually pulled back and tried to pretend she wasn't wiping tears from her eyes. “I'm so proud of you.”

“Thanks mum,”

“Now now you two,” Laurelen walked past us dragging my bags with her so that they were well out of the way and less likely to get trodden underfoot.

“How are you doing big sister of mine?”

“Better now that you're finally here. The Empress has been getting into a right state wanting to meet you.”

“Oh holy fire, has she?”

“Yep.” Emma was inspecting me critically. “Did you bother shaving before coming down?”

“Emma, I love you but you gave me twenty minutes warning and I was at the bottom of the castle. You're lucky I'm here at all.”

Emma sighed theatrically. “Sweetie?”

“What is it?” Laurelen was leafing through some papers that were on a nearby table.

“Be a dear,”

The Sorceress sighed, came over and gripped me by the chin. “Don't move,” she said.

“Ow,” I managed after it felt as though my entire body was on fire for just a split second. All of me was sore. Including my hair. “What the fuck was that?”

“Hey,” both women shouted. “Language in front of your sister,” Laurelen smiled.

“She taught me what the word meant in the first place.

“She would,”

“Oh it's so good to see you.” Emma hugged me again for a long time.

It really was good to see her.

“Are these the latest edicts?” Laurelen asked from the nearby table.

“Yes, Our new Empress is putting the cats amongst a whole flock of pigeons.”

“What's that?” I asked as I inspected some nearby jugs for which ones were wine and which ones were water. It's much hotter in Toussaint and I was already feeling the need for a drink.

“The Empress is publishing her opening Imperial orders to be enacted from when the crown is placed on her head.” Emma explained taking the cup out of my hands. “ You can have a drink when you get changed.”

“What's wrong with what I'm wearing?”

“You'll bake in that. You think it's hot now? Wait until you're in one of their giant ball rooms with their chandeliers and people milling around.”

“And you've had a few more glasses of wine,” Added Laurelen scanning the papers. “Oooh that's going to piss off the church.”

“Which ones that?” Emma asked her pushing me towards the bit that would, presumably, end up serving as my bed. I could see that there was a new suit laid out there. Coulthard colours but brighter and more to stand out. My sister had that look that said that she wasn't going to be distracted from what she was doing so I started getting changed.

“This one about Imperial justice being the final line of defence.”

“Yes, I thought you might like that one.”

“She's going to find it hard to enforce.”

“Yes, but still.”

I cleared my throat noisily. “Could you translate what you're talking about for the guy that's just turned up.”

“Well,” Emma traded some amused glances with Laurelen. “You know that the Empress is getting crowned tomorrow right?”

I glared at her before she burst out laughing. “Oh put your male pride away Freddie.”

I told her to do something obscene.

“Maybe later,” she said firmly. “But she's trotting out what her first orders are going to be. The idea is that she gets crowned with all the pomp and ceremony that Toussaint can muster but when that's done she's not going to any of the many many balls that are being thrown in her honour. Instead she's going to a private study with a few people that she trusts and she's going to spend a good few hours signing bits of paper. This is going to ratify various treaties, trade agreements and put new laws into place.”

“Doesn't sound like the worst idea I've ever heard.”

“No. The other thing that she's doing is to tell everyone in advance what those orders are so that people can start getting into the swing of things in advance. So they're being published. That's what's causing the vast majority of the gate traffic by the way,” This last bit was said as an aside to Laurelen.

“I was wondering. I had thought that most people who were going to come here were already here.”

“They are.”

In unison and as if rehearsed, both women turned to glower comically at me.

“You two are getting too good at that,” I said as I pulled on a pair of shoes.

Yes shoes. I wanted to wear my boots but the shoes were actually much cooler. Which was becoming an increasingly important consideration.

“So what's the Empress up to.” I added ignoring their critical stares.

“She's decreed that it's impossible for any religious administration to try, prosecute and judge crime of any kind.”

“Including Heresy?”

“Especially heresy. Religious crimes must now be tried before a civilian court.”

I thought about this for a moment.

“That's a lot of courts, how are they going to prevent the church influencing the civil magistrates?”

I was already picturing images of panels of judges who either were, or were under threat by religious authorities.

“It would seem that things are going to move back to a more feudal state.” Laurelen said, scanning the piece of paper. “What she's essentially trying to do, looking at all of this, is make sure that people are governed by people, not religious zealots.”

I sniffed as I was doing up straps and buckled in my new “courtly costume”. “Still seems a bit arbitrary to me. Just because someone's a feudal lord doesn't stop them from being a religious zealot, or under the influence of one.”

“I agree,” said Emma.

“The paper does seem to go into more detail. It seems that this is a first step, there's lots of other waffle here about working with local governments to try and bring set these systems up properly.”

“I take it that one of the other things that she's already done is decide who the new heads of state are going to be.” I asked as I finally managed to get hold of something to drink.

“Yes,” Emma said pouring herself a cup as well. “Primarily she's managed to find cousins and nephews and things for Aedirn, Redania and Kaedwen. That bastard daughter of Foltest is here and has been formally declared legitimate although the poor girls mother and elder brother is going to be the all but ruler there. I think a couple of people are trying to take the girl under their wing in an effort to make her better able to stand up to the more formidable members of the rest of her family.”

“So that'll be....”

“Constable Natalis amongst others.”

I nodded.

“There has been something else come through while you were out though?” Emma told Laurelen.

“Oh yes.”

“Yes.” Emma fished out a particular piece of paper. “Long story short but I've told Princess Dorn to stockpile all the lumber coming out from her Kingdom as there's going to be a shortage in the north.”

“What's she done?”

“She's declared an alliance with the dryads of the Brokilon Forest,”

I was unfortunately drinking as this was said and as a result I nearly choked on my own tongue.

“She's done what?”

“She's declared an alliance with the dryads of Brokilon and told everyone that an attack upon the Brokilon forest is an attack on Nilfgaard itself.”

Emma looked calm as she said it.

Laurelen seemed to join me in looking aghast.

“But,” I said, “What's she going to do, walk up and....No, this is....”

Laurelen had taken the paper off Emma and was reading it quickly.

“I think it's actually quite clever.”

“It's going to be another war.” I said. “Cidaris and Verden depend on that wood.”

“Not any more,” Emma said. “I actually think it's quite a good idea. From her point of view of course.”

I took the time to remind myself that my sister, although she's my sister and I love her a lot, is ruthless enough to command respect from the most hardened of traders.

“Why?” Laurelen looked up at Emma.

“Nilfgaard is a war economy.” Emma ticked the point off her fingers. Yes, putting down rebellions and policing are going to occupy a lot of that army but, as has been proven, soldiers tend to be unhappy at the prospect of going home to farm so she's got huge amounts of soldiers sitting around drawing pay for doing relatively little. Even if she doesn't replace the soldiers that Nilfgaard lost while invading the north that's still a lot of soldiers.

“Second, it gives the northern Kingdoms, as was, something to do to vent their spleen at. Those kingdoms are relatively small but at the same time they make a lot of money. They didn't come to the North's aid because they saw which way the wind was blowing and as a result, decided to keep their heads down. The North can be relied upon to be cranky as they just lost a war and as a result, there is a target which they resent anyway, can't possibly defend itself against both fronts and therefore will allow the North to save some face. As well as finding something for all the grumpy younger sons to do.

“Thirdly. It shows the elder races that Nilfgaard values them. It shows them that the new Empress will listen to what they have to say. That might be more valuable than any of us think. Especially when it comes to the elves of Dol Blathanna.

“Economically, it also benefits the other lumber mills. It means that more wood has to come from Kaedwen and from places like Dorn's kingdom. The Brokilon is no longer a supplier of cheap lumber and people will have to pay the higher prices. Temeria is in no shape to take that wood so why should Vergen and the rest do the same?”

“I suppose,” I said, “But, I don't know, I think we need peace at the moment. There's been war, almost constantly since I was born,”

“And before that,” piped up Laurelen. “I'm sorry Freddie but you're being naïve. There's already been wars going back centuries. That's not going to change. We're running out of space on the continent so those wars are going to grow unless Nilfgaard can conquer it all and remain strong enough to keep us in check. That's if Zerrikania and the other foreign powers don't start to have Imperialist ambitions.”

“I suppose.” I admitted before scowling “Also, when did I give you permission to call me Freddie?”

She threw something at me. Although it wasn't properly aerodynamic so it didn't get close enough to me to cause me any trouble

I had finished dressing and Emma came over to me. “You ready to face the music?”

“You mean...?”

“To face Francesca. She's been hounding me about you since I got here.”

“Oh Flame.”

“That's one way of putting it, here.” She handed me a slim, lightweight looking sword.

“What's that for?”

“They wear them round here.”

I took it off her and looked at it dubiously. “I haven't got the first idea about how to use this thing?”

“Sure you do, hold it by the hilt.”

“Very funny.”

“Look, you can't take your spear but you are a Noble and a Gentleman so you can't go around unarmed.”

I gave up on the grounds that it was probably easier for a quiet life on the whole. “I'm never going to hear the end of this from Kerrass you understand?”

“I did think about that,” said Emma opening the door and leading the three of us out into the street.

“And?”

“I decided that I didn't really care that much.”

“Some sister you are.”

“Oh, I think it's exactly the kind of sister I am.” She gave me another quick hug. “I'm so proud of you.”

I looked at her for a long time. “Thanks Emma.”

“That's enough.” Said Laurelen taking my other arm. “Let's get him up there.”

What followed was the funniest time I could remember in my immediate past. We were walking back up the hill towards the castle with Emma on one side of me and Laurelen on the other. The number of envious glances that I got from other men who were leading their own ladies around. That I had two beautiful women on my arms was.... hilarious to say the least. If only they knew.

“You enjoying yourselves?” I asked them.

“Very much so,” answered Emma.

“Did you plan this between you?”

“Of course,” Laurelen commented as she waved to an acquaintance of hers.

“What are you doing?”

“Protecting you,”

“From them?”

“Oh Freddie,” Emma said giving me a little kiss on the cheek. “That's not who we're protecting.”

“I should ask before we go any further.”

“What's that?”

“How is brother Mark?”

“He should tell you himself.”

“Do I need to still be angry with him.”

Laurelen snorted.

“No, no I don't think so. He's doing his best bless him but he's physically trying to change his way of thinking. You should talk to him, I know he wants to talk to you, so let him. Just, be patient with him. It's not been a good year for Brother Mark.”

I grunted. I wanted to ask more but I got the impression that she wasn't going to give me anything other than that.

We walked up the slope to the castle. There was a genuine party atmosphere about the place. I kept finding myself looking for the cracks in it. The same way that you look closely at an oil painting in an effort to find the cracks to see how old it is. I looked closer and closer but I still couldn't... It all seemed so genuine. These people were genuinely celebrating.

As had been made clear, the new Empress was not going to usher in a new age over night. She is and was her own woman with her own feelings and thoughts. She had ideas about the way in which the world needed to be run and there were certain, inescapable economic facts that were unavoidable. As Laurelen had said, war wasn't just going to stop for my wishing it would.

But they were celebrating. I found myself wondering why. Was this just going to be another tick in the box. When historians looked back at this moment were they going to be saying things like “This was the start of a golden age on the continent,” or would they be saying things like “This was the first sign. This was the beginning of the end for all things.” Or even worse than that would this just be another day in the list of genealogies. “Then there was Cirilla, daughter of Emhyr and Pavetta who reigned for tumpty years and was revered for not killing too many people. Her greatest accomplishment was that she didn't declare war on anyone.”

But these people seemed to be genuinely happy.

I found that I pitied them. I found myself looking down on them for being so naïve in thinking that this was going to be the beginning of new and grander things. But my anger and resentment was fuelled by the fact that I envied them that naivete. I so desperately wanted to believe that this was the dawning of a new era, for the continent as a whole but Laurelen's earlier dismissal left me feeling young and stupid. If my time on the road had taught me one thing over and above everything else it was that human nature, sorry, not human nature, sentient nature will remain sentient nature no matter how hard we try. We will always want what our neighbour wants and we will always be willing to steal and cheat and murder to get that thing.

I had been looking forward to this day for quite a long time but I found that my mood was getting darker and darker with every passing moment. Suddenly I wanted to go home. I was afraid and I didn't want to go the few steps further up the hill.

Emma must have sensed my mood as she tugged on my sleeve. “Why the long face little baby brother?”

“I don't know,” I lied. “I just, I just find that I'm suddenly afraid of the future.”

She patted my arm. “Don't worry brother of mine. We'll take care of you.”

“It's not that it's just....I suppose I'm having my idealism taken away from me.”

“What are you afraid of?” She asked, she shooed Laurelen off in front of us so we could talk alone.

“Everything... Oh I don't know... No I do know. I'm afraid that this will be the best day of my life. I'm afraid that it won't get any better than this but more than that? I'm afraid that, in the long, greater scheme of things. Today is going to turn out to just be another day.”

She hugged me.

“Well I don't know about that, but I think that that, at least, is going to turn out to not be true.”

What happened next was an assault about my person. I want it recorded here for posterity that I was assaulted and that my body was made free with in a way that was completely inappropriate for the time and place. I was not consulted about what happened next but I would like to say here and now that it was unwelcome.

I heard a strange noise. It was a squeal the likes of which I refuse to believe can be reproduced by a human throat, regardless of the gender of the possessor of that throat. The noise was increasing in volume before I suffered an impact. An attack, nay a vicious assault. One from which I am still recovering. A figure had spotted me at some point and came running down and leapt at me full pelt wrapping both arms and legs around me which knocked me off my feet.

“Ow,” I said after I tried to peel the laughing form of my little sister off me.

“Shut up.” She said, refusing to let go of me after she had attached herself, limpet like, to my innocent and frail body.

“Frannie. You're making a scene.”

“So?”

I was lying on my back. Other courtiers had gathered round us and were making comments and jokes. Already I could hear wagers being traded and shouts of encouragement were being given on both of our behalfs.

Joking aside, it was really good to see her.

“Are the two of you going to help?” I asked Laurelen and Emma who were stood over us in the manner of umpires and people keeping score. They looked at each other.

“Nah,” Laurelen waved a passing page to bring something to drink.

Emma was a bit more solicitous and helped us to our feet. Francesca first I noticed.

No sooner had I gotten to my feet than I was once again enveloped by my little sisters hug.

“Hello Frannie.”

“Brother,” she yelled laughing. “It's so good to see you.” She suddenly pulled away. “You've been avoiding me,” she accused.

“As well I might,” I insisted, “Especially because every time I do see you you jump on me and do your very best to cause me grave bodily harm and injury.”

“Hah,” she said. “The mighty Scholar and Witcher's apprentice afraid of his little sister.”

“Too right. I would remind the honoured lady Francesca that it would be inappropriate to hit her back.”

“You wouldn't hit little old me would you?”

My sister has the largest eyes you can imagine.

“No, I might tickle you though.”

She squealed and slipped out of reach but I couldn't be put off. Vengeance was sweet.

I had missed my sister.

But she had changed a lot since I last saw her.

I might be biased in saying this but my younger sister had always been pretty. Where my elder sister is blonde in her colouring, my younger sister is dark haired. The last time I had seen her was when I left home after a massive fight with my father, she was fourteen at the time and was already growing into being a great beauty. To me it is difficult to talk about her as being beautiful as I can never get away from her being young and fussy and perpetually sick all the time. She was always too thin and try as we might we just could not get her too put on any weight. She would pick at her food in the same way that a bird does, getting out the choicer bits of meat. When challenged on this she would insist that she was already full or not hungry. This gave her a pale, gaunt and consumptive look. The kind of look that classical romantic poets at the university had gone absolutely mad over. They had seen her riding through town on those occasions when father or mother had brought her into Oxenfurt and had told me that I was a lucky man for living near such beauty. I had been forced, on may different occasions to take offence at this pointing out that she was my sister, also she was only fourteen and that they should slake their unnatural lusts elsewhere.

I may have been drinking at the time.

She had also grown tall very quickly. Whereas I was a late bloomer in terms of growth and physical maturity, Francesca had hit that maturity early. Much to the envy of her friends which had turned vicious on more than one occasion. But now...

It seemed that her time at court had done her much good. In the same way that my time with Kerrass had done me good in helping me put on some muscle mass and weight in the right areas it had done the same thing for Francesca.

I realised that I wasn't worried about hurting her in these little games. She looked strong and healthy and it suited her.

She had already been beautiful. People had teased me wondering if we really were brother and sister as she was so gorgeous and I was so.... not. But despite my occasional bouts of jealousy, I was made up for her. But now, as I got my first proper look at the woman in front of me, I was surprised that I recognised her at all. I could. She still carried herself the same way but there was a confidence in her now. A force of personality that was hard to get around.

She also dressed differently.

Very differently.

She had been a girl of dresses. Of jewellery and skirts and under shirt lifts. She liked flowers and gentle things. The most physical thing that she had learned to do was to learn to ride a horse but only that because it was required of her.

The woman that stood in front of me was muscled and hardened. Lean and fit like a racing Grey-hound or a fast racing horse. For a start, gone were the skirts and the petti-coats. Also gone were the bodices, she no longer needed them. Instead she wore dark leather trousers along with calf length leather boots which I could see metal plates sewn into the leather to armour her shins. Over the trousers she was wearing a white shirt, over which was a leather corset with battle skirt. to protect the upper thighs, chest and belly. Again I could see the shape of metal plates sewn into the leather. Even more hardened vambraces and shoulder guards as well that had obviously been made to fit this young woman. But that wasn't the surprising thing. She also had a sword strapped to her back with the same kind of harness that I had seen Kerrass wear so that it was not only feasible for her to draw it, but also easy.

Using the observational training that Kerrass had taught me, I could see that the hilt of the sword was well worn and the leather armour that she wore showed signs of use. It had been made so as to not limit her movement and so it was scuffed and scarred in places.

Her face was unadorned with make-up and her hair was held up and out of her face by simple hair clips. If she hadn't betrayed her identity in the opening moments of assailing me that day, I would not have recognised her.

“Well?” She demanded. “Do I pass inspection?”

“Sorry,” I said pretending to shake myself from a thought process. “I was distracted. Forgive me madam but have you seen my sister? I could have sworn that she was here just a moment ago.”

She hit me on the arm. Another woman in my life who thought that physical violence could take the place of a witty retort.

“Ow,” I said. “What did I do to deserve that?”

Instead of answering she threw her arms round me again “Oh it's so good to see you. I'm so happy for you.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“Congratulations,” she said again.

A nearby soldier, one of those men in head to foot plate mail was nearby. If his face hadn't been completely covered I would have sworn that he was trying not to laugh. “Excuse me Madam?” he said to Francesca, “I don't mean to intrude.”

Francesca changed before my eyes, from the young woman that was my sister to a lady and a terrifying lady of battle at that,

“The Swallow?” She asked the soldier. The man nodded. “I'll be there directly.” She told him before turning back to me. “Listen, I have to go but I want to hear all about everything alright? Private dinner, just family, tonight?”

“I uh,” I looked at Emma who nodded. “Uh, sure.”

“Right, see you then.” She turned and jogged after the soldier.

“Not what I expected,” I said watching her go before turning back to Emma with an accusing look. “You knew about that didn't you? You wanted to see my face didn't you?”

“I did,” said Emma trying to look serious. Laurelen was openly laughing at me. “And you did not disappoint.” She linked her arm through mine and started to lead me inside to the capital building. There was a delay at the door as there was a queue to make sure that we were who we said we were meaning that the three of us had to answer a series of questions to ensure our identity.

Emma and Laurelen got through with a very short and perfunctory set of questions whereas I got the third decree. Apparently, not many of my answers could be trusted as, according to the very serious looking man in the black tabbard with the golden sun emblazoned on it, anyone could have read my travel journals to ascertain the more common answers to the questions. In the end Emma had to vouch for my identity, much to the amusement of several people standing nearby. Laurelen made a jest to cover it up but I also saw Emma looking around and making note of the faces who were laughing. I was surprised at how fast the laughter died down.

The next stage was some more security. I was taken into a side room where I handed over my sword before I was patted down to find any other hidden weapons before I was shown out into the main hall where Emma and Laurelen were waiting for me.

The first thing that hit me between the eyes was the heat of it. So many people walking around, mingling and chatting.

“So why the change?” I asked Emma as I steered her towards where the food was laid out.

“In Frannie?”

Laurelen had vanished off to talk to another woman, terrifyingly beautiful with almost platinum blonde hair with a silver ankh round her neck.

“Yes. I never thought I'd see her as a warrior.”

“Your fault apparently.”

“My fault?”

“Yes. Mother and Father had sent her down here to try and strike up a relationship with the young Empress but, unfortunately it turned out that poor Frannie had no idea how to set about that. Then you started publishing your “Travels of a Witcher,” and, having an interest in the subject, the Empress expressed an interest in them and therefore in you. Someone remembered that they had a Coulthard at court and Frannie was sent for.

“The Empress is charming in her own way and was able to draw Frannie out. They've both suggested that Frannie provided a “little sister” of sorts to the Empress and the two got on like that from then on. There are several of them, in the Empress' entourage. The Empress has certain requirements of her ladies and friends, in this case she requires that the women be able to keep up with her. As a result Frannie had to learn sword craft, tactics, fighting and hunting.”

“She suits it.”

“She does. They're even being trained to act as guards to the Empress. They're not quite there yet but the Empress has decided that she wants to trust her guards implicitly but how can she do that when they men that surround her served her father and have their own agenda's. So she's taking steps to surround herself with friends. Friends who can help her fight.”

“Also, it strikes me that the Empress is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

“That is part of it. But anyway, it turns out that you, you, have been responsible for our rise in importance of the Imperial court.”

“Fuck me,” I swore softly.

A nearby noblewoman blanched and moved away. Emma giggled and I spent a bit of time scanning the table for something that looked edible. It was not easy.

“Lord Coulthard,” came a heavily accented voice from behind me. “You have forgotten me.”

I turned, a shrimp in one hand with my off hand poised to catch any tumbling bits of food. Not the most graceful moment to see one of the most beautiful women in the world. A woman who giggled as I quickly choked down the food.

“Your majesty,” I bowed deeply.

“So you haven't forgotten me?” said the Princess Dorn. Sleeping Beauty as was.

“How could I forget?”

“I'll leave you two to catch up.” Said Emma, “Freddie, the Empress is going to want to talk to us when she gets here so don't go wandering.”

“No ma'am”

Emma glared at me before turning away to grab some passing Lord by the arm and began whispering to him in a quick and determined manner.

“So Your Majesty,” I said snagging something that looked like a miniature quiche. “How are you finding things?”

“Tricky,” she said. “Can we switch to speaking in the Elder speech?”

“Certainly.” I answered in said speech. “You still struggling with the more modern dialects.”

She pulled a face. “In all honesty, it's not so much that it's just that my accent makes me think that I'm stupid but the instant I start talking in the Elder speech I suddenly seem to get more respect.”

I winced. “Humanity is still humanity I'm afraid.”

“Quite.”

“You're looking well.”

I was lying. She looked drawn and tired but I thought that she was bearing up well. There were still shadows under her eyes and she looked frail, almost worryingly so but there was still a glint and a glitter in her eyes that betrayed the humour and intelligence that I had seen when I first met her. I also noticed that despite the heat in the building and in the Duchy where fashion dictated scooped necklines and a bit of cleavage, the Princess was covered head to toe, including wearing gloves. She wore a small circlet of Gold with a single red gem in the middle.

“Thank you Lord Frederick but I think you're being overly generous. I look tired and drawn. I feel a stranger in my own lands let alone here where they seem so progressive to me although to you it would seem almost backward. But, I am making friends slowly and surely. Marion would be cross with me if I didn't say hello.”

“Say Hello back. Are you formally Queen now?”

“I will be when the Empress gets crowned.” She nodded. “It's been what, six months since I saw you?”

“About that.”

“Well the Imperial army has secured our borders against the more ambitious and aggressive of my neighbours. People are being encouraged to settle there and we look to make an industry out of the masses of timber and lumber that we expect to be able to grow but I wish we were more self-sufficient.”

“Baby steps Majesty, Baby steps.”

She smiled then. “As you say. The Empress has been very kind.”

“As well she might.”

“But anyway, enough about me. I understand that congratulations are in order.”

“Yes, that got around fairly quickly.”

“People care about you Lord Frederick.”

“Thank you Your Majesty. Not to change the subject too quickly but how are you getting on with your Mother?”

She made a face. “Slow going. All through my life my parents taught me to take responsibility for my actions and to face up to your responsibilities but Maleficent is just so flighty. Very clever but her mind jumps about from one thing to the other with a bewildering speed. We'll have just sat down to talk over tea and then she gets a thought and just vanishes without stopping to tell me where she's going. Ariadne says it's just her though and that she'll settle down.”

“And Kerrass?” I asked carefully.

She smiled. A little sadly I thought. “I still don't know about Kerrass. I owe him so much and I would like to talk to him more as, to all intents and purposes he is the person that I've known the longest but, he gets uncomfortable around me and makes his excuses before wandering off.”

I winced. “Where is he anyway? I had expected to see him here.”

“The Empress has commissioned the Witchers to act as her personal guards for the duration of the festivities. I think that she still gets uncomfortable around the Nilfgaardian's but the Witchers she understands. There was something else political going on about that as well that they kept me out of. I think she's making a statement. But...”

“She's not really keeping you in her thinking.”

“Not me, not many people. If you want to be worried about someone, be worried about her. She's taking on so much and I sometimes get the feeling that she's trying to make people change, make the continent change. too fast and without thinking that people might rebel against some of her ideas.”

“That's what Empresses do though. Make change happen.”

“Yes but sometimes we all forget that change is painful and can cause a great deal of harm. Then people who don't like the change want to fight against it and then the response backwards is so strong the change might as well have not happened in the first place. Real change happens slowly and, I might say, happens when the rulers of nations are looking the other way.”

“You might be right,”

“There she is,” The Princess said,

“There who is...”

But then I saw her.

Ariadne was on the other side of the ballroom, talking with a couple of people that I didn't recognise and she was accompanied by a beaming Duchess of Angraal but I wasn't really looking at her.

Ariadne looked absolutely amazing.

I know, I know that I am hardly unbiased in these things but I would go so far as to say... I was in the presence of Sleeping Beauty herself although she won't thank me for saying so but as I looked over and saw Ariadne there in that room it was as though the Princess faded away.

I know that men always claim that there lady is the most beautiful woman there and I have been lucky in knowing many beautiful women but Ariadne took my breath away that afternoon.

A long, off the shoulder blue dress with a yellow sash. She was dressed in light colours, a long way from the dark and forbidding colours that people still expected from her. She had a drink in her hand and was in the process of making the person who she was talking to laugh aloud at some witticism. There was a mischievous glint about her face and I could tell that she was enjoying herself immensely despite only smiling with her lips. A habit that I knew she had picked up so that people didn't see her fangs and become afraid. She wore a single piece of jewellery, a red gem seated in gold that was twisted together around her neck. It look fascinatingly delicate as though the gold was woven together to form a strange tapestry. Beyond that her hair was loose and fell down her back.

She took my breath away.

As I watched I saw that she had been waiting for me to notice that she was there as she knew where I was immediately. She looked over, smiled at me and was just in the process of talking to her companions in a way that I thought meant... “Please excuse me but I see someone over there that I simply must talk to.” But then the fanfare started.

Princess Dorn elbowed me in the ribs with a sly smile and gestured over the throng towards where Emma and Laurelen were standing together. Emma was beckoning to me, I bowed to Princess Dorn and went over.

A glance at Ariadne showed that she was moving into place herself along with a few people that I recognised from Angraal including the Duke and Duchess. I saw her mouth the word “later” at me and I nodded.

The fanfare was long, and far too loud for so small a place. As I stood there I could see the trumpeters up on a balcony but then the door opened and in strode a woman.

It is an odd feeling to know that you have made a mistake. Especially when you are chronicling your own circumstances and things that you've been up to. There is an urge to paint yourself in the most flattering light possible, to try and tell everyone that you were and are amazing at everything, that you saw right through the person that was lying to you and that you fought off your enemies easily.

But there is no getting round the fact that I made a mistake.

The first woman that came through the large double doors of the room was not the Empress. But she looked like one.

I had never seen Her Enlightened Ladyship Anna Henrietta , Duchess of Toussaint before. I hadn't even seen her portrait but I hope that I can be forgiven my lapse of judgement as I started to fall to my knees. If anyone looked like Imperial royalty at that time and in that place it was her. Emma caught my mistake though and tugged me up to my feet and I was able to realise that the nobles around us were merely bowing or curtsying.

What can I say about the Duchess?

I cannot remember where it was written but there exists, somewhere, a poetic discourse on what a woman requires to be considered “truly classically beautiful”. Many women have been known to make themselves dangerously ill in the pursuit of this “ideal” but even so, I have to admit that personally I find that my tastes are a lot more varied than what the poet describes. But, in meeting the Duchess it has to be said that the poet in question might very well have been writing about Duchess Anna Henrietta of Toussaint.

Toussaint is a land of tasteful excess. While I was there I kept catching myself looking for the edges of the painting. Looking for that place where the air of enchantment lessened, where the paint turned out to only be skin deep but I kept finding that what I was looking at was not actually an illusion. Nowhere was this more exemplified than in the personage of the Duchess herself. Her blonde hair was done up into a hairstyle that was almost ludicrously elaborate with a head dress that was, to my eye, worth more than the total worth of all of the historical crown jewels of Redania.

Her dress looked as though it was spun from actual gold itself in that it certainly shimmered as though it was while she worked. Vast skirts and hugely ornate beadwork was on display over the course of the rest of the dress which looked as though it was impossibly tight even though she seemed to move and breathe easily. She wore emeralds in her ears and around her neck and the way she moved was like a dancer. Each foot fall was deliberately placed and as she did so the sound of her foot hitting the ground echoed into the silence after the fanfare died away. She walked up to the throne on the dais and moved to stand behind it. I saw her register a few people's presence. Princess Dorn who, I noticed, was bowing just as low as anyone despite being royalty bowing to a “mere” Duchess.

It should be said, for those people who are not students of Nilfgaardian history and politics that Toussaint, although old and steeped in tradition and history is relatively small and strategically unimportant. Having said that though, the volcanic nature of the part of the world in which it resides means that the wines of Toussaint are separate to none. No-one wants to invade Toussaint because, at the end of the day, no-one can be bothered. It would cause far more problems than it would solve. That's not to say that you can't. The capital of Beauclair could easily be taken by a relatively small force, they do produce some food but mostly what they produce is wine so their wealth is in their trade income. Wine gets exported and everything else get imported.

I hope you understand that this is a gross simplification of the matter.

But to invade Toussaint, you first have to get through all of the surrounding territories. Which are allied to Toussaint and each other. So if you attack one then everyone else will prevent you from doing so. Also, the number of alliances that Toussaint holds through marriage is also larger than is conventionally thought of as being particularly realistic. So suddenly, people all over the continent are getting letters from “their noble cousins” saying that these dreadful little men are invading us, anything you can do to help would be appreciated. Then suddenly the invading army discovers that all the food they were expecting to receive from their friends seems to have mysteriously vanished at sea.

Plus, if you invade. Wine production stops. So then you have to drink the “northern piss,” That Toussaint people think of beer as, or Southern Swill which is everything from further south. Also all, your friends are suddenly realising that wine stocks are running low and can't help but notice that the reason that this is all going so badly is because you've fucked things up.

So in short, invading Toussaint is more trouble than it's worth.

However, Nilfgaard had conquered the surrounding territories and annexed the place. Looking through the history books it seemed that there was some kind of marriage contract that joined the two houses so that the Dukes and Duchesses of Toussaint can refer to the Empress and the Emperor before her as being “our noble cousin.”

In short. Inside Toussaint, the rule of the Duchess is absolute, to the equal of any ruling monarch in their own lands. If the Emperor gave an order to a courtier of Toussaint, then that courtier would check with the Duchess first.

So what I'm saying is, when the Duchess walked into the room, I was expecting to see the Empress. What I saw, looked so Imperial and so royal that I automatically assumed that she was the Empress without thinking about the known differences.

So, as I say. The Duchess moved through and walked up to the dais where she stood beside and a little bit behind the throne which would traditionally be the position of an advisor.

Then the Empress came into the room and when I saw her, I wondered at my own mistake.

She moved in a way that I used to see my father move when we had just moved into the castle that we now call home. At the time I did not see it for what it was so I didn't recognise it at first. But this time I did. She moved with the speed of someone who knows that everyone will wait for her to arrive, but at the same time has no wish to fuck about and waste time.

Everyone always talks about Empress Cirilla by talking about her hair. So I will talk about that first. Her hair was long and she had it pinned up behind her head in a manner that suggested that she had just ordered someone to do so so that it wouldn't keep getting in her eyes. The fact that it was held in that place by a diamond encrusted silver comb was not lost on me.

As I watched her stride into the room I recognised the hairstyle as being one that I've seen Emma adopt and Francesca afterwards. I glanced at Emma from my place on my knees to find that Emma was watching me, her eyes twinkling. I would have bet any amount of money that it had been Frannie who had tied up the Empress' hair for her.

The Empress' hair was once described by the bard as being “Ashen blonde,” but I'm here to tell you that to my eyes, it might as well be white. If anything it made me think of silver hair rather than anything else so I have wondered since whether the bard had taken some poetic licence with this. Who knows?

Is the Empress beautiful?

Of course she is. The very question itself almost trivialises what she looks like. She is... how can I put this. She is beautiful but it's a kind of remote beauty. It's a hard and an unapproachable beauty. She is remote and distant, standoffish almost. It's not that she's not charming. She's also extremely quick and ridiculously intelligent. Her mind is lightening fast and I know, from experience, that she can take up a detailed conversation from the point at which she left it up to several days later and I'm told that she can do the same thing for weeks or even months afterwards.

But I get the feeling that she keeps people away from getting too...intimate with her. I guess that she has one or two close confidants that she lets get close to her and be friends with because she doesn't want to let anyone get close enough to depend on her for political favours.

Taken classically, the portrait painters are going to love her. Maybe because of her scar.

Suitors will flock to her, not just for her position, nor just for her charm or her intelligence but I struggle to believe that anyone will get close to her without intercedents getting involved as it seems as though it will be all but impossible for her to let her guard down enough to be close to anyone. She watches the room and you can see, or rather sense, the wheels turning behind her eyes. I say sense because those same wheels are turning impossibly fast as the woman is just thinking on a different level than the rest of us. She's easily more intelligent than me and I would put her at being considerably more intelligent than most people that I know and I know some really smart people.

But she's always thinking and like a chess player she's thinking ten, fifteen moves ahead on an international scale. I find that I begin to pity her a little, it would almost be easier for her if she wasn't also a reasonably good human being. But right then and there, she had just walked in through the double doors and she was dominating the room without doing anything. She didn't even look up to register the rest of the room, she just moved through with a long legged stride of someone who was used to other people getting out of her way as well as the stride of someone who is used to having other people keep up with her rather than having to modify her pace to suit others.

She was also vastly different to the ornate and brightly coloured suits and dresses of the assembly. Where we were all brightly coloured and bedecked in ornamentation the Empress was...well... not.

She wore a high collared dark purple riding coat which was absolutely plain despite obviously being made from expensive material. It was the kind of purple where it looked as though it was dark blue until it caught the light or folded in some way which was where it revealed the red underneath. It was buttoned up across her chest and I wondered how armoured it was and if I was close, whether I would be able to hear the metal clinking together. She had a broad dark red sash across her middle and before the tails of the coat flowed backwards. Not for this Empress the vast trains and skirts. Underneath the coat she wore a set of White trousers, the kind of which you would see on anyone who rides a lot and she had on a pair of Black boots that looked as though they were made for comfort rather than ornamentation. They were lacking in spurs which had surprised me. As she walked she was tucking a pair of white gloves into her sash as though she was coming in from outside.

I looked in vain for any sign of jewellery, she wore no ear-rings and no rings on her hands. No necklace either and her hair was pinned up with a simple silvery clip although I suspected that someone might have been able to sneak a few precious stones into it without the Empress noticing. The only other thing that she wore that looked to be of any value was a golden Sunburst broach on her chest but again that was simple and understated.

I caught the statement and I could almost feel Emma watching me from the corner of my eye. The Empress was telling us all that she didn't need to ornament herself or advertise who she was. We should all know who she was and if we didn't, then we were in the wrong place.

Sir Rickard once told me that this happens in the military as well. You can always tell the real leader of men in the army. It's not the person with the most ornate armour or even the shiniest suit of arms and equipment. Nor is it the person who shouts the loudest or has the largest horse. Look for who speaks softly, look for the person with the signal flags and who they're standing next to. When the orders are given, who do the men look towards. It might be the person with the most battered suit of armour, or the hairiest, smelliest Sergeant on the field. That's the man in charge. The man who everyone defers to.

The Empress dominated the room. It was as though the sun had come out and shone on us all but it was a focused shine which made it bright and almost uncomfortable.

She was accompanied by three Witchers. One of which was Kerrass who scanned the room, his sword in the scabbard on his back and his left hand on the sword strap. Another was a man who I knew to Eskel from the Wolf school from Kerrass' descriptions. A large man with the most hideous scar across his face which lends him an air of grim savagery which I have since learned could not be further from the man's true nature. The third was a man that I didn't know although I knew that it wasn't the White wolf of legend as this man's hair was dark and shaved close to his scalp.

Also with the Empress came Francesca, still in her warriors garb and with her own sword on her back. She walked at the Empress' left shoulder and in her arms she cradled a sword as though it was a baby. The hilt was permanently offered towards the Empress so that the Empress could draw that sword, easily and at any time.

This too was a statement of some kind although some of the complexities were lost on me.

A few other people came in with her. Another man who I would later learn to be Morvran Vorhees who I, rather unfairly, didn't like the look of. He was pale faced and pale eyed and he reminded me of a dead fish. My sincerest hope is that he laughs when he reads this. He makes me think that I shouldn't trust him and yet has done nothing and continued to do nothing to betray anyone who he has sworn an oath to. I am told that he was one of the first to bow to Empress Cirilla when she was named as Emhyr's heir, although there was rumour that he was disappointed in this as he hoped to be made heir himself having a good claim to the throne himself.

There also came the Sorceress Yennefer of Vengerberg who, although she was there and dressed in her signature colours of black and white, she scanned the room upon entering and walked off to a quiet alcove where she opened the book that she had tucked under her arm and sipped from a single goblet of wine that might even have been empty for all I know. Yes she is beautiful and yes, she is terrifying.

If there were any others I must have missed them as I was too busy watching the Empress command the attention of the entire room without really trying.

She walked in and strode quickly up to the dais before turning around and just for a moment she seemed surprised that we were all there and that we had all taken a knee.

She took a moment to survey the room before sitting down. I saw that she wore no crown but she sat and crossed her legs comfortably. At some signal that I didn't see we all started to straighten up. At another signal it seemed as though we all were given permission to get on with the party.

Not for long though.

I just had time to pick out Ariadne in the crowd again, like me she had sought refuge amongst the familiar faces for the Empress' entrance as I saw that she was with the Duke and Duchess of Angraal, formerly the King and Queen of that territory but I later found out that they were using their Nilfgaardian titles here. She had been scanning for me as well as when we saw each other we started towards each other at almost the same time.

It was not to be however as I was intercepted.

“Lord Frederick?”

I turned and a young man, can't have been more than twelve in a Squire's outfit stood at my elbow.

“Yes?”

“The Empress' compliments my lord. She invites you to converse with her at the dais.” I nodded, “Lead on.”

He did so. I tried to ask him whether or not the Empress had actually sent her compliments to me but he wasn't being drawn on the matter.

I was shown to the foot of the dais where Emma was also waiting and I followed proper protocol which was hurriedly whispered in my ear by the squire in question. You know the type of thing. Bow, advance three paces, bow again, stay bowed until the Empress invites you to straighten, don't look the Empress in the eye etc. I tried to keep a straight face during this description. Normally I'm much better at keeping myself under control with regards to the solemnity of the situation but Kerrass was pulling faces at me from behind the throne where he was on guard.

I went through the bowing and the scraping.

“You may straighten Lord Frederick.” I was surprised at how....well...normal her voice was. She had none of the airs or graces of any noble person that I've ever spoken to. It was a voice, although trained to carry in a din such as this one, that wouldn't draw your attention in a tavern let alone in so august a company as this one. It was direct and to the point.

I did as I was told and got my first look at the Empress.

As I say, the Empress is a beautiful woman in her own right, even ignoring her elevated position.

“Imperial Majesty.” I said simply.

“I've been looking forward to meeting you Lord Frederick, please come closer so that we can talk without having to shout at each other.”

I looked at both sisters. Emma nodded almost imperceptibly and Frannie looked pleased. I saw that Lord Vorhees looked a little annoyed but also resigned. I felt myself shrug and step forward.

“I am unsure of the protocol here,” I heard myself say, “Do I kneel or crouch or something?”

“Just stand, thank you.”

I swear she was amused. As though she was as aware of the ludicrousness of the situation just as I was.

“As I say Lord Frederick,” Notice that she wasn't using the royal “we” I'm told that she doesn't unless she's making an official declaration. “I've been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Should I be worried?” I really hate my sense of humour sometimes.

“Maybe,” said the Empress. “Although I suspect that if anyone is to be concerned here it should be your younger sister as she absolutely guaranteed that you would not be boring.”

“Define boring for me your Imperial Majesty. If it pleases you that I should sing a song or do a little dance then I'm sure that I might qualify to be your fool if nothing else.”

Her lip twitched upwards.

“I find that I have surrounded myself with many fools in recent time Lord Frederick.” Her absolutely dead-pan delivery made me wonder whether or not she was joking. “I was told that you might speak a little more sense.”

“My father taught me that if I had nothing sensible to say then I should say nothing at all.” I said carefully. “As a result of this sentiment I endeavour to remain as silent as possible. I will redouble my efforts in your presence your Imperial Majesty.”

I saw Eskel having to clap Kerrass on the back a couple of times as Kerrass suffered a seemingly uncontrollable fit of coughing.

“Quite right too.” Put in Duchess Anna Henrietta of Toussaint.

“That's as maybe,” said the Empress carefully. “But there are several matters upon which I would like to take some time to converse with you upon over the next few days.”

“I am, of course, Your Majesties most Humble Servant.”

“And not so humble I suspect?”

There is a moment, when sometimes you meet someone and you feel a certain amount of kinship with them. Whether it's the hint of a shared sense of humour or a shared thought. I found myself with that feeling towards the Empress. I found myself thinking that the poor woman would give a considerable portion of her Empire to be anywhere else but here at the moment. Including if that meant that she was in the middle of a battlefield.

“You might suspect that Your Majesty but I couldn't possibly comment.”

“I also understand that Congratulations are in order.”

I bowed deeply.

“I am grateful Your Majesty. It is a small thing and I suspect it will mean more work for me in the long run.”

“Perhaps so but it takes a certain amount of bravery to agree to marry anyone, let alone an Elder Vampire. And a Sorcerous one at that.”

Somewhere I could hear wind blowing.

My stomach dropped.

“Sorry Your Majesty, What did you say?”

“I said you must be a brave man to agree to marry a vampire.”

“And that was what you were congratulating me for?”

“Yes,” she said her eyebrows rising, “Was there something else?”

I looked over at Emma who's own eyes were wide with horror. “Is that... Is that what people keep congratulating me over?” I heard myself say.

“What else was it going to be?” Emma said faintly.

The sounds of the party and things drifted away.

I felt myself turn to stare into the face of Ariadne who was stood at the foot of the dais looking at me.

“Oh,” The Empress started to laugh. “You didn't know.”

Her laughing got louder and louder.

Without looking away from Ariadne's serene face I heard myself say, quite distinctly, “So is that position of “Court Fool” still available Your Imperial Majesty?”

The Empress needed to be handed a cup of water.