A wedge had been driven between Kerrass and I.

Although it might be easy to see why, with the benefits of hindsight and looking back at everything that happened, but there was now a distance that had formed and I had no idea why. I think neither of us did.

It was in the small things. I could no longer make Kerrass laugh. Although the desire to do that was missing from me as well as I was dealing with my own problems and my own... situation.

We would get angry with each other while training. Whereas before meeting his Goddess, I had been willing to put up with any amount of bullshit that he put me through in order to learn how to do the things that he was teaching me. Now I found that I became waspish and snapped at him when I thought that he was taking liberties with me. When I thought he was taking too many opportunities to hurt me or inflict pain over and above what was actually needed.

Sometimes pain is a good teacher as it demonstrates what is being done to a body.

But not like this. I began to feel bullied during these training sessions and I was lashing out. But it swung the other way as well. The above circumstance could be dismissed as my being overly sensitive to what was happening and you would be absolutely right. I was being overly sensitive to what was happening. But this problem was not one sided.

Kerrass had lost patience. Whereas before, whenever we were training he was tolerant of my mistakes. Painstakingly going back, correcting my technique, demonstrating, observing and adjusting accordingly. Before watching me practice until long after I would have been bored of the same thing. He would watch, encourage when I was feeling down, goad when I need the prompt, and congratulate when I got it right. As teachers are supposed to do.

He had always been understanding of the fact that I am not particularly gifted physically and had not been too aggressive towards me when things had gone wrong. But now, like me, he was snappish and angry. He would lose his temper and rant about my incompetence and how was he supposed to properly teach a lummox like me. His diatribes would go on and on and become personally insulting to the point where it was unsuitable.

There were other things. Instead of fighting over who would be paying the bill at the pub in trying to pay for it ourselves rather than the other guy. I would insist that it was Kerrass' turn to foot the bill while he would insist that he had paid last time.

What had been gentle teasing between us had become harsher, tighter and more painful. We aimed to hurt each other now and it was a situation that was only getting worse as we got further and further from Brenna.

I don't know who started it, nor do I know how it started. But I do know that it was on both sides and both of us absolutely hated the fact that it was happening. We would get to the evening camp fire and then one or other of us would start to apologise for our unreasonable behaviour earlier in the day. Then the apology would be accepted and we would be friends again for a little while before things would start to get regress. And it was getting harder and harder to apologise. Harder and harder to claw our way back towards even the barest appearance of friendship.

I've had a lot of time to think on the subject since then and I think that there were several things that were going on in our heads. It was complicated and unpleasant in the extreme and I have promised various people that I would go through it. That I would write it down and have it published so that people can be aware of the kind of thing that can happen when you deal with other-worldly Gods and entities.

So let's start with this. I was not doing well. Not by a long way and I was resentful of the fact that Kerrass did not seem to understand my anguish, or care about why I was so miserable.

The long and short of the matter was that I had been unfaithful to Ariadne. That was the main issue although there were others as well.

It's easier to talk about the others first though as I sit here writing.

In talking to Kerrass' Goddess, or at least the entity that he revered as his Goddess, she had unearthed and discovered lots of old injuries and raw wounds that I had not thought about in years. When she had gone after how Emma had behaved in our old family home. When Emma hadn't stood up to defend me, or when The Goddess had called Mark and Sam bullies that took advantage of my youth, stature and lack of physical grace in order to further their own ends, she had reminded me of my childish rage. We all know about this rage if we think about it. It's the part of us that didn't want to go to our lessons, didn't want to learn how to do our chores or didn't want to get dressed in preperation for the elders to come and visit.

Why can't we eat the last piece of candied meat? Why must we leave some for others? Why must I show appreciation for the gift that I didn't ask for and didn't like when I got it?

As adults, we know the answers to all of these questions, but as children, we are left with the problem that these questions are mostly answered with the phrase “Because I tell you to.”

And again, as adults, we know why that phrase is used, even as we acknowledge the uselessness of that phrase. We use it because we don't have time to explain that it will hurt, make us sick, upset the other person. After all, an eight year old is not going to be responsive to higher forms of logic or social mores. They are too busy wondering why their voice echoes like that in a church and trying to figure out exactly how they would go about jumping that little bit further than before.

But I rememebered and I had not forgotten. All of those little injustices. The small times when Father would harrangue me at the dinner table and everyone else would sit in silence, just praying that Father's gaze would not fall on them instead, as it so often did. All the times when Mother would tell us to go and play elsewhere or see someone else. All the times when I would look around for salvation when Sam, Edmund or Mark were delivering a beating. On the training yards, wherever Edmund found a quiet spot, or in the chapel or classroom respectively.

As an adult. I know about things like Filial duty. I know that Emma, Mark and Sam were children themselves and didn't know any better. I remember my own weakness when Father would turn his ire on Sam and I was just so relieved that it wasn't me that was getting yelled at that I didn't stand up and take some of the responsibility myself. I remember being too tired to properly help Sam through his poetry and penmanship lessons and wanting to go outside and read my book under the shade of the apple tree.

But that childhood part of my brain is still there. A little, skinny, clumsy, sulky child that lives there and pipes up whenever things don't go my way.

The Goddess had shone a light into the corner of my brain where that child lives and brought him out and he had spent all the time since she had done that, jumping up and down and screaming. It was certainly his voice that meant that I would be snappy and waspish everytime Kerrass was going too far in our training sessions because Kerrass reminded me, a little unfairly, of Sam and our weapons tutor as Sam gave vent to his own frustrations at our situation as he pounded me into the ground.

So that voice was louder in my ear and I could not quite convince it to be quiet. I found that I was constantly arguing with that little voice. Constantly having to remind it that Sam had been young and frustrated himself. That Emma was protecting herself in a position that was far more precarious than mine was. That Kerrass had also been through some things recently and that his behaviour was not entirely without cause.

That was my day. I was losing the ability to concentrate for prolonged periods of time. I was becoming fractious and irritable and I would be distracted by small things because of these problems. My temper would flare, and then I would have to take a moment to try and figure out why I had suddenly become angry or upset. And then I would need to address the problem.

Kerrass was struggling with that. As well as whatever was going on in his head, he was struggling with me getting increasingly irritable and angry.

Both of our physical injuries were slow to heal as well. I had needed Kerrass to stitch up a couple of the cuts that I had suffered at the hands of his Goddess. Specifically the one on my back and one of the ones on my arm that I couldn't quite get to myself. Beyond that, I had a strained muscle in my leg that took far too long to stop being painful and I still, even now as I sit here writing long after those events, get twinges and spasms in my legs if I sit badly for too long or in the cold days of winter that I find myself in.

I also had a black eye, a broken nose that Kerrass set without sympathy or expression and a large swollen lip. Kerrass was better off, at least he could take a potion for his hurts but he had had some cracked ribs and had similarly suffered some muscle jarring.

And as we were heading into the winter months. Some of those injuries took a long time to heal and stop bothering us.

But over and above all of that. The main thing that was wrong with me was that I had betrayed Ariadne.

The first huge argument that I had with Kerrass after we had left Brenna was about that. We had already been sniping at each other for several days, but this was the first time that we properly blew up at each other. It was a couple of days before either of us climbed down enough to be able to apologise properly.

Kerrass argued that Betrothal was a long way from being actually married. That even if I was married, then long distances from loved ones were problems for all concerned. That people have needs (that one made me particularly cross). He told me that I had had little choice in the matter. That when the Goddess had set her mind to wanting something, it was the rare person that was able to fight that off and keep from doing exactly whatever it was that she wanted. He even went so far as to say that I had actually done quite well in this particular regard.

“That's not the point.” I told him. “I should have been able to resist. I am in charge of my own thinking and I couldn't.... I should have turned away. I should have done something else, but in the moment, I did not resist. I was there and...” I shook my head.

“The fact that you resisted was the point Freddie.” He told me. “You did resist. Far longer than most when she turned her attention to you. You resisted for a long time, but the point was that you resisted. That provided a challenge for her. And she never resists a challenge. Not to anything. If you'd challenged her to a game of Gwent, or a game of chess, Pokiir, dice or anything. She would have taken you up on it and she would have won except in games of utter chance. She might lose a coin toss for example. But you provided a challenge for her. You found her attractive but instead of giving into that attraction and leering or trying to see down her top, or making early sexual advances. You resisted, you turned away, forcing yourself to look into her eyes rather than at the shape of her legs”

Then he said something that made me lose my temper.

“I even warned you that this was going to happen.”

“What?” I demanded.

“I told you. “Don't resist,” I said.”

“I didn't think you meant that.”

“What did you think I meant? Torture?”

He shrugged. “You doomed yourself Freddie and I warned you that this was going to get dangerous, I even warned you how to avoid coming to harm but you went ahead and did it anyway.”

The argument devolved from there until Kerrass stormed off into the growing darkness.

Kerrass didn't understand. This situation was not helped by the fact that this distress at my apparent and supposed weakness was masking another problem. That problem being that I still hadn't found anything useful about Francesca. Frustration was my way of life now and it was amplifying all things to the point where I was finding it difficult to articulate everything else.

What I wanted to say was this. I have this image in my head of who I am. I don't know if anyone else does this but I certainly do. In broad terms I have this thought about what I sound like and what I look like but I also have this image of who I am and what kind of person I am.

This has changed over the years that I have been travelling with Kerrass. Specifically the measurement of who I am has changed. I have gone from a painfully naive product of privilege to a.... slightly less naive product of privilege, but that's a seperate argument for another day.

But one thing that has never changed is my own sense of personal honour. I am not using the word honour as a catch all phrase in order to excuse poor behaviour as many people in my position do. I am not the kind of man who is going to use “honour” as an excuse to pick a fight and declare “That cad has besmirched my honour.” or anything equally as ridiculous. I am much more likely to say something like “That ratfuck has hurt a friend of mine and I intend to see him pay for it.”

To me Honour is something different.

Another philosopher said it far better than I did, so I am not going to mince words too much here in order to essentially say the same thing. Instead I am just going to praise the great philosopher Aral Kosigan of Ban Ard who said, and I am paraphrasing as the actual quote and philosophy is rather long winded:

“Reputation is what other people know about you. Wheras Honour is what you know of yourself. If other people call you a liar, a cheat and a scoundrel. Then they are damaging your reputation. But if you yourself know that none of those things are true, that you have neither lied or cheated and that you are therefore not a scoundrel. Then your Honour is intact. You may be hurt by the fact that people are damaging your reputation but if your Honour is unharmed then you can know the person for the idiot that they prove themselves to be.

“Honour is something that you decide for yourself. It is a series of rules, of justifcations and standards that we choose to abide by. At first we are given these rules and standards by our parents. Then we might take on other standards from tutors, society as a whole, religion, holy orders, social and physical superiors, friendship circles, warrior brotherhoods, knightly orders and so on and so forth. But sooner or later we get to a stage where all the rules are laid out before us and we choose which ones are important to us and which ones are not.

“This process is an ongoing one and tends to vary according to how much time a person has to devote to such introspection. A farmer has little time for that, whereas a scholar and philosopher like myself might devote weeks and months to the effort. But it tends to happen as a person reaches that early part of adulthood. After the person has left their home but a couple of years into having experienced the world as a whole. Then they get to decide which rules are important to them and which standards they are going to hold themselves to. In short, they decide what kind of person they are going to be and what rules they are going to follow.

“If any.

“So as a result of this, when a man claims that someone else has besmirched their honour, shortly before demanding satisfaction of some kind, then that is not the case. What has actually happened is that the other man has besmirched the accuser's reputation. Then it is up to the receiver of the insult to decide how much they care about their Reputation versus their Honour.

“If a person is lucky, then their Reputation and Honour align closely. It has to be said that this philosopher's experience is such that proper fulfillment is found when a man's Honour is slightly to the prevelant. I must admit that I care little for my Reputation so long as my Honour remains intact.

But the reverse is also true. There is nothing quite as soul destroying as when people gather around you. Clamouring and shouting praise of you to the roof-tops when your Honour lies, tattered around your ankles and you must nod, smile and accept the accolades that you know for a fact are based on lies.

“If you want evidence of this. The taverns of the continent are filled with fighting men who are hailed as heroes, rewarded, lauded, praised and elevated. All over the fallen bodies of friends who had died instead, enemies who simply had the misfortune of being born on the other side of an artificial line drawn on a map and simply the basic luck of being in the right place and right time to find the enemy standard having fallen at their feet.”

If you would like to know more on the subject then I can absolutely recommend reading his book on the subject, “Honour versus Reputation. The real battleground of the soul.”

But I remember first reading those words all that time ago and deciding that I liked them.

Well now, after meeting the woman that claimed to be Kerrass' Goddess, my Honour was in tatters. The standards that I had set for myself were in ruins around me. I had not been able to keep to them and what did that make me?

This is stupid and I know that this is stupid so bear with me. What did that make me?

It made me into Edmund.

That might seem a little much to a casual and outside observer. And it is, don't get me wrong. But in my head, that was what was going on.

Since learning of Edmund's depraved tastes I have lived in fear of being that man and I have set iron hard rules about myself. If you like, I can say that I have arranged for iron hard rules and hold myself to a high standard.

According to Kosigan, we can choose our rules for ourselves based on several different factors. Many people choose heros to hold themselves up to. Heroic virtues that they take from these people and these figures that we aspire to be. That is fine and normal and it means that when we, inevitably, make mistakes and fall behind in any of these qualities that we are trying to abide by, then that is alright. Because we can tell ourselves that we have simply not been able to reach the lofty heights of the people that we are aspiring to be.

I hadn't done that. The trend had started, as I told Saffron, in the Gardens of Oxenfurt university where I saw a Pretty lady close herself off and be made to feel uncomfortable under the lewd, rude and lustful gaze of a man who wanted her. I decided then and there to not be that person. I would never make a woman feel uncomfortable in such a way. I would make eye contact and look away whenever things were unavoidable.

That came with it's own problems of course but I am not talking about that.

So my path was set. I decided that I would be a better man than my father, better than my peers in that I would look and see what was going on in the villages surrounding me. I would not believe the propaganda that was being written and believed in the towns and cities of the world about what life was like out there. I would take people as I find them. I would examine actions, not words.

And then I found out about Edmund and I had a new set of rules to tie myself to.

Now, if I was thinking like a rational person, I would say that making sure that I don't turn into Edmund or one of his ilk would be an awfully low bar to clear. I mean, how hard is it to not kidnap, torture, rape and degrade people while taking drugs and worshipping dark Gods. I mean, really, that doesn't sound too difficult does it.

I'm ignoring all the many proofs that it has been regulalrly proven for people in power to do precisely those things.

But you are assuming that I was thinking rationally as I left Brenna. I wasn't. I had slipped up. And I know all the arguments. Kerrass was correct. I was up against a Goddess and if a Goddess decides that she wants you then there is little that a mortal man can do to counter this. Kerrass is also right that Betrothal is a long way away from being married. That I had been away from female intimate contact for a while now and that man can only take so much.

But I had held myself to that higher standard. And I had failed. So instead of missing an ideal and telling myself. “So I couldn't measure up to that hero” I had missed a mark and I was no better than the scum who I was trying to be better than.

That probably makes no sense to you and you are right. It makes no sense. But again.... You are assuming that you are dealing with a rational mind.

But there was a third problem that had happened. Once again, I had gone to extraordinary lengths. I had risked my life, my well-being, my mind and my soul in order to find something out about what had happened to Francesca and I had been bounced off with some more bullshit. This war between dark and ancient godlike entities seemed interesting and all, but how did that pertain to my sister. It was just the latest in a long line of ongoing disappointments while my mind, body and maybe even my soul were gaining more and more scars.

The library of Pula, Saffron and Sally had been destroyed before we got there. The cult of the First-born was a bust as the people that might have been able to answer questions were either dead, fled, or claimed to know nothing. The Unicorn had spouted the same shite that the Goddess had about a war in the heavens between unspeakable horrors and the forces of the light.

In truth, it sounded more like a fairy story that you might tell to get children to go to sleep to me but... what doesn't when you put your mind to it.

The Skeleton Ship incident might have been able to tell me something, but one source refused on the grounds that I was condemning him to a lifetime of misery and hardship while the other, the Life-in-death figure had told me, again, the same bullshit that the Goddess had spouted about “I already knew the answer” or words to that effect.

So I was angry as well. Furious even on top of being hugely frustrated.

So I was physically injured. At the time of writing I am still stiff in the legs and walk with a limp until the muscles warm up. I had had old historical injustices and angers dredged up out of the depths of my memory so that those things were raw and current rather than in the back of my mind and bandaged over. I had betrayed Ariadne and therefore myself as well as my own sense of worth and integrity. And I was angry and frustrated beyond reasoning.

It was cyclical. My mind would go round and round and round again. Going through everything that I knew, everything that I felt. Over and over and over again. Over the events at Toussaint, over the cultist cave, over what the Unicorn, the Goddess and the Life in death had said. Looking for clues that I might have missed. Looking for the knowledge that I, apparently, already knew. But in doing that I reminded myself of all the horror and the injuries I had taken. Of all the people that I had killed that I had now lost count of. And I reminded myself of my weakness in the face of the Goddess.

We were heading into Winter, it was getting colder and colder as we travelled and I knew no more about the dissappearance of Francesca than I had known when I set out from Toussaint.

And as we rode, that anger, frustration and self-loathing turned inwards. I blamed Kerrass certainly as I felt that he had let me down, all while knowing that I was being unfair in that. He had promised that he would help me find Francesca and he had failed.

Again, I knew that I was being unreasonable.

But mostly I blamed myself.

And this was frustrating Kerrass.

There was also no doubt in my mind that Kerrass was also going through some things in his own head as well as we travelled. He was frustrated with me. He couldn't find a way to break through my spiral of rage, depression and frustration and so he was going through his own thing. Normally we support each other. We have been lucky enough that when one of us has been struggling with this thing or that thing while we're on the road, the other has been able to take up the slack. When I was struggling with the aftermath of Amber's crossing, my father's death and Francesca's disappearance, then Kerrass was there to shock me into activity or to otherwise support me through it. In those times he had known exactly what to do and say in order to assist with my healing process or to get me to open my eyes a little bit.

Likewise when Kerrass had been struggling after the news about his friends in Kaer Morhen, during the retreat from the Cult of the First-Born and the deaths, murders really, of Pula, Saffron and Sally, I had been there to help him. To direct his rage and his anger. As well as distract him and take up the slack when his bouts of depression were at their worst.

But that wasn't what was happening here. I was self-absorbed in my own thing and Kerrass couldn't figure out a way to get through to me and this was making him worse. I don't really know what he was going through as we never really managed to talk to each other about what was bothering us. He was frustrated with me for not being able to see what was obvious to him and that was certainly a part of it.

I would also venture a guess to state that, any time Kerrass meets with his Goddess then it's a powerful experience and it takes time to process and get used to. I don't know what they talked about, if anything, while I was lying, bruised and broken a little distance away. I have no idea if they discussed anything or whether they had things to say to each other. Kerrass claimed that they didn''t talk much and that he asked no questions, but I found that I doubted that. I don't know why.

So we were both struggling. And we were getting further and further apart from each other. And it hurt. It really hurt. Both of us. I could see and hear Kerrass get frustrated as well as seeing his visible anger with himself whenever his own words and statements went too far and ventured a little bit beyond the bounds of good taste into hurting me. Every time that he tried to crack a joke to lift my mood and I burst into tears. Every time he would try and get a rise out of me to spark a debate on some topic that he knew that I was passioante about, I would be reminded of conversation with the Goddess and I would be distraught and unhappy. And then he would become angry with himself as much as he would be with me.

And we were angry with each other too. Not just for the stuff that I've already mentioned, but we were angry with each other. A bitterness had crept into our actions. I was angry that Kerrass had taken me to meet his Goddess and I know, I know, I was curious and I wanted to know. I also wanted to know what, if anything, she might be able to tell me. But I feel that it was the kind of thing where he could have warned me and I could have made a more informed decision about what was happening and what was going to happen.

He could have warned me well away from the place of power and summoning and then I could have realised the risk, both to my body and my psyche.

Would I still have gone? Knowing myself I probably would have done. I might have been a bit more admiring about the form of the woman that I was meeting going into it. I would also have taken some time to talk to Ariadne about it as well to see what she thought. And if she had given me her blessing then.... What would that have done? How would that have changed things? I have no idea but that added an extra component to things and I was angry with Kerrass for it.

There was so much going on at the time and my mind was tying itself into knots trying to figure all of this out. So some of it is only just coming out even now as I sit here and write these words.

The way that he had kept me in the dark on the way into the encounter had reminded me of our early days as a pair. Before we had become friends and were, at best, business associates. Kerrass would take me to places and tell me to do things without explanation and would get a perverse kind of joy from watching me fuck everything up. The funny side of this was when he didn't warn me of the presence of Saffron and the others and I nearly got an angry Succubus to the face.

There are other examples where he did it in an attempt to provide impact, when he didn't tell me that we were going to Kaer Morhen or that we were going to attempt to lift the curse on Sleeping Beauty.

But specifically, and the moment that was going around in my head was when he took me into the woods of Amber's Crossing. I don't know why that one was going over my head more and more than any of the others. But it was. A time when Kerrass had told me plenty, that it was dangerous, that I probably shouldn't go and that it probably wouldn't work. And I went in with him.

He had promised not to do that kind of thing any more and I felt a little.... I felt betrayed. That that trust had been abused. I thought we had come further than that as a partnership, as a friendship and now he had essentially shown me that he would do all of those things again if he saw fit. If it would be of benefit to his... ideals or whatever.

To be clear, I am aware that that is unfair, but that is what it felt like.

Kerrass was angry with me for reasons of his own that he didn't share with me. Even though I asked, many times and then he would become heated and storm off. So I soon learned that asking why he was so angry would make him more angry and I learned to stop asking. I know about his frustration with my mental health but what else was going on in that head of his, I have no idea.

So we became more and more distant from each other.

And it hurt. Both of us struggled with it and, as I say, we both tried to bridge that growing gap between us but there was nothing we could do.

For myself, this meant that I had no outlet for everything that I was thinking. Because I couldn't talk to Kerrass. I certainly couldn't talk to Ariadne as I still had no idea what I was going to say to her. So I was left just internalising everything.

It did mean that I got a lot of work done though. Kerrass was hunting his way back through Temeria in order to put some funds aside for winter and early spring. I was not up to helping him with these hunts and he would not have wanted me to come with him even if I was at the very top of my game. So I found myself, increasingly sat in taverns or on a patch of ground with a wooden board and working. I finished off the story of our time on Skellige as well as some of the more academic texts. You will soon find some entries being added regarding the Yukki-Onna as well as the culture and physiology of the Ice Giants that I had seen.I also spent a lot of time working on the “Jack” book. Enough that it should be ready for you all hortly after this very article will be published. My guess is some time in the Spring.

But I felt wretched. I lived day to day. Steadfastly ignoring Ariadne's attempts to contact me. If we're being honest with each other. I suspect that I am lucky that she did not just scry out where I was, using whatever techniques that she had available, before just teleporting to my location and demanding an explanation as to what was going on.

So that was our pattern. We still travelled together, barely speaking and behaving almost mechanically. Going about our routines with the bare minimum of interaction and discussion. Kerrass would hunt and I would work. Ignoring the messages that were being left for me at the various Imperial Way-stations that we passed and trying not to think about what I was going to say to Ariadne when I saw her.

We went on like this for some time. There is plenty of work for a Witcher in Temeria at the moment. Anais is increasingly settled on her throne with Lords Roche and Natalis advising her, but far too many people are trying to take advantage of her youth. They regret it. Every single time, as that young woman is going to be a terrifying figure. She is, already, not shy about having any person who tries to trade on her youth and inexperience put to death.

Horribly.

On the other hand, the people of Temeria love her. They call her their Iron Lilly.

But there is plenty of work for a Witcher there. The country took such a beating during the most recent war as one army retreated across it burning everything as it went to prevent it falling into enemy hands. Then another army invaded and occupied, taking up whatever was left. There are still deserted villages everywhere and you can often go for miles before you see a person on the road. Repopulation is going to take time but the people are resilient. They are accepting settlers again now and I am surprised by how accepting the people of Temeria are of their Nilfgaardian invaders.

It helps that Queen Anais and The Empress are said to be working on a friendship and a formal military alliance. So that if anyone tries to overthrow the Queen then the iron might of Nilfgaard will be at the young Queen's disposal.

Some people are predicting a long term annexation of Temeria, in the same way that Nilfgaard annexed Toussaint. So Temeria will always be free and independent but so utterly dependant on Imperial trade and upkeep that they are part of the Empire in all but name. As I say, the Temerians seem perfectly happy with that arrangement so long as they get to keep their Queen and display the lillies.

But as we travelled across Temeria, taking our time and taking things easy while Kerrass hunted his way through that nation...

Now he was onto wraiths and wights. Apparently, after warfare the first outbreak of monsters is Necrophages that want to eat everything in sight. But after that, the spirits of the dead soldiers, dead villagers and dead nobles start to make themselves known. The wraith of the woman that was raped and murdered as the army passed through. The wraith of the nobleman who's wife has, understandably, remarried after his death. And so on and so on. If I had been more... aware of myself I might have done a lot better. Kerrass' skills as a detective were more in evidence than they had ever been as Kerrass was often forced to try and figure out who the wraith was before he attempted to destry or dismiss the poor lost soul.

It's impossible to not feel sorry for these things. They always feel hard done to and they don't think rationally about the things that are done to them. So sometimes there are things that I can agree with and there are sometimes things that I cannot bring myself to feel sorry form them for. But at the same time, they are rage without consciousness. They are upset and heartache and frustration and anger at the injustices wrought against them. Real or imagined.

And that tugged at me as we went through those fields and I began to believe that if I died, then I would become a wraith as well. That it was the intelligent thought that kept us all from becoming a wriath. I knew what had happened to me and why. But if you took that away, that knowledge and reason away. Then all you are left with is the primal emotion of it. For better or worse.

Can't think why that was going through my head as we travelled through Temeria.

But I wasn't really thinking clearly about what was happening until we caught the barge that carried us across the Pontar at a place called Flotsam.

I'm not going into Flotsam here. The bard has spent a lot of time talking about it so to discuss it too much here would be kind of redundant. I will say that I found it much more pleasant than I had been led to believe from the tales of the bard although I understand that that is largely due to the presence of the new Commandant in charge of the garrison. There is still a lot of human versus Elven rivalry there and that will surely take years, if not generations to entirely dissipate. But there are signs that, as I say, under the encouragement of the new governer of Flotsam, that the locals will get there eventually.

But as we crossed the Pontar and headed into the hillier, more mountainous area that consists of the border between South Eastern Redania and Kaedwen. I realised that the time was coming where I would no longer be able to put off talking to Ariadne.

We were entering that part of the Empire that had once considered themselves an independent country of Angraal. But now tend to admit that they are a minor province of the greater Kingdom of Redania. This by virtue of the fact that the end of the Line of the Unicorn meant that Kaedwen is still struggling with internal strife. But as you enter that small piece of countryside, you will still find the farmers and villagers that refer to the Duke and Duchess of Angraal as the King and Queen.

Our destination was Ariadne's manor house in the part of Angraal that is called Angral. The difference is actually profound and if you ever find yourself in that part of the continent, my advice is to be careful about the difference and to check both your spelling and your pronunciation. It's a whole thing and duels have been fought on the subject.

I shit you not.

The latest Lady of Angral is, of course, the Lady Ariadne and I refer you to my earlier journals as to how that all came about. I had never been to Angral as during the close of those events I was recovering from being poisoned and although Kerrass had, the landscape had changed considerably since then. The original, ancient manor house of Lord Dorme the rebel had been destroyed down to the foundation and so we had to stop at Angraal for directions.

It was in the early stages of winter by this point, the mountain air meant that when it wasn't raining hard, the landscapes were incredible. It was less wild than Kalayn lands were. This place had been settled for a lot longer so the stone walls, ancient fences and fields so well grown in that you could well imagine them having been there forever.

Ariadne has been the ruler of this little patch of land for about eighteen months now.

Some dark things happened in this particular part of the continent and Ariadne is more than aware of this. Indeed, part of the reason that she is the Liege-Lord of the area is so that she can monitor the area in case any of that darkness might have left a scar that needs to be dealt with.

She will tell you that it did. And not just of the magical variety.

As I say, I refer you to my earlier work on the subject of Lord Dorme and his attempt to wrestle the throne of this tiny Kingdom from the proper Lord of the area. But in short, his plan had been to attempt to use ancient magic that has not been seen or heard of in the continent since before humanity settled here. He wanted to use this magic to control Ariadne against her will and first, to place her on the throne according to ancient ritual and primal magic in order to allow him to rule from behind the scenes. Then he would slowly take over until he could rule more openly.

We don't know how he intended to do this, but common theory was that he would have Ariadne behave like a tyrant and then he could be the hero who overthrew her. There is considerable evidence that he hadn't really thought that far ahead though.

In order to build the totem that he would use to control Ariadne, he needed to perform certain rituals, contact certain powers and do certain things to himself. In short, he got it wrong and as a result, his totem was flawed and Ariadne was able to deliver us all from a painful death.

But those rituals were not pleasant and he had, indeed, made contact with some horrible things. Now that we know more, we had wondered if some of these things were the other-existence entities that the Unicorn and now the Goddess had spoken about.

But that sort of thing leaves scars.

The portals that the influence got through were shut and sealed so thoroughly that those parts of our plane of existence are actually more stable than some of the others. I heard it said, by Yennefer, that if someone wanted to rip a hole through reality then it would be easier to do it twenty miles down the road, rather than where Dorme had performed his rituals.

But just to be sure, Dorme's residence had been taken down brick by brick. The bricks had been ground down into powder, the metal in the house melted down into components before the furnace used to do that had been destroyed. The wood had been burnt along with everything else in the house. Then the ground had been sewn with salt and silver filings.

Ariadne has since started slow and gentle reclamation of the area so that it can be used to grow things although she has yet to decide what she wants to grow there. She reckons it will be years before it produces anything that she would want anyone to actually eat as tests will need to be ongoing but still.

So then Ariadne set about healing the rest of the land. The first thing that she did was to order a small church to the Eternal Flame built that now houses a couple of lay priests of the flame. There is also a house of healing populated by the Priestesses of Melitele that is nearby and I'm told that Ariadne insists that the two priesthoods work together closely to see to the spiritual needs of her people. Thus avoiding all the infighting that tends to happen between religions. Any man or woman that tries to exert dominance of the one or the other is escorted to her borders firmly. I'm told that it's been tried several times as priests of the Eternal Flame that would prefer to return to their glory at the height of Radovid's madness, thought that they would find easy recruits in a land ruled by a vampiric Sorceress.

They were soon disabused of that notion as the Bishop of Angraal arrived to see them off, declaring Ariadne to be a good, flame fearing woman.

Ariadne enjoyed the episode immensely.

Working with Emma and the Lord and Lady of Angraal (you really need to pay attention to the differences), Ariadne has spent a lot of time investing in her land. Dorme had largely been neglectful of his lands and his people. He had used them for what he had needed and I will even admit that he was not as neglectful as some of the Lords that I have seen as I travel up and down the continent. But he used them for what he needed. If he needed money, then he made sure that he got enough taxes, or that those people that were producing the things that he would be able to sell for the money, they would get all the resources that they needed and then some.

But when he was done with them, they would be cast aside without thought.

When he was preparing for his rebellion, he paid what must have been vast sums of money to bring in Smiths from Oxenfurt and surrounds in order to outfit some of his troops. But when it was clear that he couldn't equip all of his troops that way, those smiths were just cut off without payment.

And then, in the middle of the post-war famine when everyone in the continent was needed to be planting and putting things in place to ensure that the following harvests would be as huge as needed. He stripped his lands of men in order to have enough armed forces to take the capital.

These numbers would have been laughable in modern warfare but he did his best.

Fortunately, Ariadne's solution had meant that the rebellion was relatively bloodless and those farmers could return to their fields.

But...

The years of abuse and neglect that they had suffered had left scars. As well as the horrors that had been inflicted during all the times that Dorme was trying to perform his rituals. It was very similar to what happened with the cult of the First-born to be honest. Except that Dorme was not as highly sexed as the cult of the First-Born were, nor was he a true-believer. He did those things out of need and because it was expected of him. But his obsession with the rivalry between him and the Lords of Angraal meant that that was all he had appetites for. He was the kind of man who goes to church in order to be seen to be going to church, rather than because they actually believe or have any kind of faith.

And then Ariadne had taken over. She was already fairly well regarded as the locals had heard her asking questions about nobility, law and ethics of Kerrass and I. But she still had a lot of work to do. She claims that her needs are simple and then she built off that. She was quite happy to live in a tent or a hut, and indeed did so while the churches were built first. But then it became clear that she was expected to have a residence. She had decided that she wanted one, shortly after she had decided that the two of us were to be married.

Which was a lot sooner in our acquintenceship than I was entirely comfortable with but...

But she took great delight in subverting people's expectations of her. Angral (Her province, not the land that it lives in) is relatively picturesque with some rocky hills that don't quite deserve the term “mountains”, some fields and a small river.

But instead of wanting some dark, forbidding and remote hilltop keep. She asked for a nice house by the river but away from the fertile lands.

Instead of a dark, tall fort. She wanted a series of interconnected buildings, joined together by walkways. Since her captivity she likes to spend her time ouside, even in the wind and the rain.

So she made a list of what she wanted. She wanted a bathhouse, a Laboratory and a bed chamber. In order of priority. After that she wanted a hall to eat in, a kitchen for the food to be prepared in and a receiving room to receive guests. This is the largest building that also, now, includes guest chambers and a library. There are other smaller buildings that double as guest chambers but the entire thing is connected together by covered walkways. There is also a stables and courtyard for incoming goods.

In the centre is a courtyard with a fountain, several covered benches and Ariadne's desk. She prefers to conduct her business there, outside in the sunshine where she wears light, flowy dresses in bright, colours. Again subverting expectation. Although she doesn't feel the elements, she dresses according to the weather so as to not upset visitors and yes, from the sky, I suppose that it all looks like a spider's web. At night or in heavy weather, she moves indoors according to the needs of the situation. Not because she needs to but because she feels that it makes people uncomfortable to be working out doors, in the rain, at night, without the need for lanterns.

The rest of the grounds are taken up with gardens. Not flower gardens although there are many blooms but these are what Ariadne calls “useful plants”. Herbs and things. She also grows fruit, berries, carrots, potatoes and onions. There is also a green house and a drying shed which means that the local priestesses of Melitele often consult her about the herbs of her garden, of which she give freely to her people.

There is plenty of surplus and she gives that surplus to surrounding families. As I wrote, she took an active part in the harvest and did so with enthusiasm and delight as she worked in the kitchens and things which astonished the locals. Hair tied back and covered in a scarf in the same way that the local women did, tongue clamped firmly between her teeth and chopping vegetables with a speed that must have been bewildering.I'm told that her people are becoming a little enamoured of their Spider-lady.

And all through her works she is still followed everywhere by a small, excessively furry spider, roughly the size of a large cat or a small dog. Other than the fact that it is clearly a spider, it also behaves like a cross between a cat and a dog although I suspect it is a little more intelligent than either species.

She calls it Fluffy.

It had sounded like a nice place and it was a lot simpler in person than it was when I first heard about it. It was early winter when we arrived and although it wasn't immediately raining, there was the sense of that being in the air.

You could see the snow on the peaks in the distance and those parts of the mountain where it is a little more obvious that they don't always have snow.

The weather had hit that turn, because we were closer to the mountains and along a river valley, we were getting quite a lot of rain. Sleeping outside and by the side of the road was no longer as practical as it might have been, especially when both of us were feeling a bit rough.

I was having a strange sense of Deja Vu. I was trying not to think about what I was going to have to say to the woman that I loved when I saw her in a matter of hours and the effort of not thinking about those things was taking it's toll. I have no idea how long it had been since I had last slept properly. I was working hard on my physical skills, although Kerrass and I had long since stopped training together so that we didn't make each other even more angry. But I would run and do all the other aerobic exercises and stretches that Kerrass taught me, years ago, for me to do when we weren't training together and he couldn't keep an eye on me. I was mostly trying to tire myself out so that I would be able to sleep.

But it didn't work. As such efforts rarely do.

So I was riding along the highways and byways of the place and we passed that part of the world where Lord Dorme had first overtaken us and insisted that we go along with him to Ariadne's keep.

Do you ever look back on your life and think about how your world would be different if you had jumped left instead of jumping right? I do. I have been doing it a lot recently. How would my life have been different if Kerrass and I had refused to accompany Lord Dorme that day. How would I have changed. Would I have married Marion instead? Or would that have left me free to pursue any of the other suggestions that have come my way.

Or is it the confidence of loving Ariadne that has made me more attractive and has given me the.... allure that I might otherwise have lacked.

These questions occupy my mind occasionally. What would the world have been like if I had not gone into the woods of Amber's crossing? That is another question that takes up far too much of my waking time. Or what would my life have been if I had taken the safer, more traditionally scholastic, route of staying at the University and studying those things that I had been told to study? That, rather than meeting Kerrass.

Would I have been the one longing to bury my families past, rather than Edmund, Mark and Emma?

Would I still have looked down on Elves and called Villagers, townsfolk, farmers and craftsman the catch all title of “peasants?”

I stood my horse for a little while as I looked at that small bank of grass-land that changed the history of this part of the world. That area where, in early summer, I had sat in my shirt-sleeves and acted as Herald for the man that, even as I stood there, was getting further and further away from me.

I shivered in the damp air and tugged my cloak closer around my frame in an effort to keep the warmth in. Not entirely successful. I was procrastinating then, just as I am procrastinating now.

But then we were into a new part of Angraal. A part that I hadn't travelled through before and I looked around myself. I was on the edge of tears all the way through this part of the journey. It was a nice piece of countryside. Not the stark, wildness of Kalayn lands or the highly tamed countryside of Coulthard lands. It was not the picturesque perfection of Toussaint, but nor was it the desolate beauty of Skellige. It was just, well-tended countryside and I fought that I was going to miss it.

“I would have liked it here.” I was telling myself, over and over again. I had decided to break off the engagement with Ariadne. I was trying not to think about that because every time that I thought about it, my mind skated off the thought and I would break down into tears again.

I had no idea what I was going to do afterwards. The scary part of it, now, is that at the time, I didn't much care what I was going to do afterwards. I rather thought that life wouldn't be worth living.

Was I suicidal? I don't know. Maybe. How do you tell whether you are or you aren't.

So we traveled through the countryside of Angraal. The familiar mingling with the unfamiliar. The city of Angraal itself has changed little. There are a few more houses and the increase in population that comes with the fact that we were moving into winter and people tend to group together to stay warm. We didn't stay long, just long enough for us to ask directions to the specific place that the new Countess de Angral kept her residence.

It didn't look like we were going to be able to delay any further as Kerrass didn't want and I was desperate for.

We rode on and my mood worsened, it might not seem as though that was possible from what I have already written, but it did.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

We rode past those fields where people were mostly setting things to mulch for the winter. Ploughing in Manure and the like in order to help the soil recover from the harvest. We rode past that piece of dead ground that had once been where Lord Drome's manor had been situated. There were several small shrines nearby that seemed full of offerings. It was fenced off so that people couldn't cross it and I guessed that it was the kind of place where it would be some kind of local superstition that you just didn't cross that piece of ground. Ever. It would turn out to be a right of passage for the youth of the area to run across it and people would be dared to stand on the edge of it for as long as possible with your back to it.

It looked like an empty patch of mud to me.

We passed the shrines and a priest came out to greet Kerrass. The two had met and worked together when Lord Dorme's lands had fallen. But only briefly. Kerrass asked after the affairs of the area and asked a couple of technical sounding questions. I didn't mind, it meant delaying the inevitable a bit longer.

I didn't know where we were going and as a result, we almost fell into the courtyard of Ariadne's dwelling where a couple of people came out for our horses.

It wasn't raining but there was the threat of that in the air. The wind blew and sent us billowing around a bit. I tried to wave off the groom and another man that had come for my bags given that I didn't intend to be staying here that long. But they seemed insistant.

Then Ariadne came out.

She looked beautiful. Of course she did and the fact that she smiled when she saw us made me feel even worse. She was dressed down, not in formal wear or anything. She was wearing a sinple skirt and dress although I could see trousers and boots underneath so I guessed that she had been outside. Both trousers and the hem of her skirt were muddy which confirmed that. She was wrapped in a cape with a large hood that was hanging down her back and she wore a furred doublet. Her hair had been twisted into a pony tail or plait, She had been working outside so strands of hair had escaped from the arrangement making it confusing to see from this distance.

She looked like a working Lady. The kind of noblewoman that works hard on behalf of her people. There was no make-up on her face, no jewellery round her neck or in her ears and she was dressed just as warmly as her people were.

She once told me that she does feel heat and cold, but does not feel the pain as a result making wrapping up warm or dressing lightly a matter of comfort rather than necessity. Vampires, go figure.

Indeed the only piece of jewellery she wore was the engagement ring.

I groaned as I saw it and staggered.

“Freddie?” She ran over, taking care not to use the full range of her speed so as not to overwhelm me. “What's wrong. Freddie?”

She caught me as I staggered and from somewhere came the thought that this was wrong. I did not want comfort.

“I am sorry.” I mumbled.

“What?”

There was concern in her voice. I had no idea what she looked like as my eyes had sunk so that I was looking at her boots.

“What's wrong with him?” She asked Kerrass.

“He challenged a Goddess.” Kerrass told her. Then he shrugged. “He lost and now he's beating himself up for it.”

It was the shrug that hurt the most I think.

I had fallen to my knees at some point. The courtyard was cobbled. Something else that Ariadne had insisted on apparently and I had registered the pain somewhere before I forced myself to climb back to my feet. This was the kind of thing that a man should do on his feet.

“Madam.” I told her. “Madam, I must insist upon your attention.” I said as formally as I could manage.

She turned her head from Kerrass where she had been frowning in question and looked at me, her mouth twitching towards a smile at the enforced formal tone.

“Madam...” I choked and cleared my throat. The first sign of concern crossed her face. “Madam, I regret to inform you that I must call off our engagement.”

She took a step back, her hand covering her mouth in shock. I gritted my teeth.

“I have betrayed you Madam.” I told her and my lips pulled back in a snarl as I fought to keep my composure. “I have betrayed you with another woman. I was unable to control myself and as such, I have dishonoured myself and, worse by far, I have insulted you. To my eyes and my attention, that was unforgivable.”

Her eyes narrowed and her face turned into a sneer.

“As such, I could not live with myself and force you to go through a marriage with a man who cannot contain himself. You deserve better than I Madam and therefore I must tell you....”

“This is not the first time that you've tried this bullshit Freddie.” She snarled. The force of her anger and rage sending me staggering backwards.

This was not how it was supposed to go. There were supposed to be tears, there was supposed to be recriminations and insults and all kinds of.... There was not supposed to be this kind of violent rage.

“Not for the first time.” She growled in a way that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Circumventing that part of me that is civilised and just heading straight for the part of me that wanted to flee in the face of danger.

“Not for the first time I will tell you that it is the height of arrogance for you to decide what I do and do not deserve.”

Her eyes seemed to glow as she advanced on me, her fangs bared.

“You stupid bastard. How dare you decide this for me. How dare you....”

Then she stopped. Her rage and her subversion of what was supposed to happen in my cliché drunk mind had cut the ties that held me upright and I just sat there in the courtyard and wept. My hands covering my face.

She just stopped dead. I heard the rustling of cloth.

I have no useful memories of what happened next. I have spent some time working on it with the help of various people but it seems that the strain of everything had finally become too much for me and something snapped. But rather than the energy and the rage that normally accompanies those instances when my body and mind decides that I have no idea what to do. I just turned into a blubbering mess.

There were a few witnesses though so I know a bit more of what happened.

Ariadne knelt next to me carefully. “Freddie, this isn't you.” She said, calmly and quietly without inflection. No tone of voice either. She was neither angry, sad or filled with concern. “What happened?” She asked gently. “Look at me Freddie. Tell me what happened.”

It took her a few tries to pull my hands away from my face and get a look into my eyes.

“What happened?” She asked again and I turned away from her. Refusing that contact. She pursed her lips and rose to her feet.

The herbwoman from the village of the Unicorn. Her name was Samantha and she has since told me that I have permission to use her name. She had come out and Ariadne turned to her. “I need the mind sedative that we were working on.” Ariadne told her. “Could you get it for me please?” Samantha nodded and ran back inside.

Ariadne turned on Kerrass then. “What happened Kerrass?” She asked. Calmly but, according to the witnesses, there was an intensity to her voice. “And what part of it made you, of all people, insensitive to his pain?”

Kerrass took a step backwards from the elder Vampire and his hand went to his sword-strap.

“We went to see my Goddess.” He told her. “We hoped that she might have information and he challenged her. He los...”

He winced, shaking his head.

“If you ever...” He began. His own temper rising and he drew his sword. “If you ever dare try and read my mind again....”

Ariadne hit him.

According to witnesses she moved faster than the eye can see. All that people really saw was Kerrass sailing through the air and landing in amongst some hay before frantically shaking his head to clear it.

“You knew.” Ariadne hissed like a feral cat. “You knew everything that was going to happen. You knew what she was going to do and you knew how Freddie would behave and react. You knew and you kept it from him so that he would get the full impact of it.”

Kerrass tried to climb to his feet but the blow had stunned him and he wobbled on his feet.

“You knew.” Ariadne drew herself up and visibly forced herself to calm down. “And it is not so much of a leap to expect you to have known what it would do to him. He, who has already been through far too much this year. Including all but carrying a broken Witcher through the forests of Northern Redania. So do not hide your own guilt behind some kind of pretended outrage.”

Samantha had reappeared, her new husband with him.

Ariadne turned and gestured to me. “Get him calmed down, would you please?” Samantha nodded and ran over to me.

Kerrass tried to stand but was obviously unsteady. “Oh here.” Ariadne stalked over to Kerrass' horse and pulled out his Alchemy kit, producing a bottle of reddish liquid and throwing it to him. Kerrass caught it, blinked at it a few times before drinking it.

“You are unprepared to face me Kerrass.” Ariadne's voice was like a whip. “Your sword is not oiled and there are no potions in your system. So I would advise that you refrain from making pathetic threats.”

Samantha got me to breathe in something from a small bottle and I do believe I fell asleep. She looked up at Ariadne and nodded.

Ariadne pinched the bridge of her nose. “I had hoped that your arrival would be a positive thing.” She told Kerrass. “I had been looking forward to it and now it is ruined. You owe him more than that Kerrass.”

I'm told that Kerrass couldn't meet her gaze.

Ariadne sighed and turned away. “Well, if you have not bothered even trying to heal him then it seems that I must. I will send for his family to come early. I understood that you were going to spend some time looking around Angral and Angraal anyway for any sign. I suggest that you do so. I will let it be known that you can have supplies on my expense but do not come back here. Not until he is ready to forgive you. We go to Toussaint after Yule and if he has not forgiven you by then...” She shrugged.

After the potion took effect, Kerrass nodded his acceptance and went towards his horse.

“Kerrass.” Ariadne called and he turned. “I do so hate to be a cliché. But threaten me again and I will tear your heart out. Whether it breaks his heart or not. So if you do come back to force that confrontation. Come back prepared.”

Kerrass had reached his horse, “He wanted the knowledge.” he said, half in protest although listeners said that he was mainly thinking aloud.”

“All men want.” Ariadne told him, “Women too for that matter. But sometimes it is the duty of friends to see the danger and to save us from what we want.”

Kerrass listened to that speech, nodded before mounting up and riding away.

Ariadne stood and watched him go until long after he was out of sight.

Samantha had got me breathing regularly and calmly, I wasn't looking at anyone as everything seemed to have fallen out of me. I felt empty, like a shell of a person. There were no thoughts, no feelings. I could do what I was told, I listened but beyond that I didn't do anything. So I was sat up, head bowed as Samantha, who instructed me to think of her as Sammi, rubbed my back and whispered things to me, helping me to remember to keep my breathing subdued.

Ariadne came over and stood over us. I didn't look up.

“The corner building.” Ariadne told Samantha. “Set him up there. I know I left instructions that he should be given the main room but I don't think being surrounded by everything and everyone is going to be helpful to him at the moment.”

Samantha nodded. “I'll get my husband to help me get him there.”

Ariadne crouched down and tried to look into my face. “Freddie, can you hear me?”

I could, but I could no more have responded than I could have lifted the mountain. The woman that I love sighed at that and rose back to her feet.

Apparently Ariadne's nose wrinkled. “He will need a bath too from the smell of things. Can I leave him in your care for now?”

Samantha nodded. “I do have some calls to make in the villages. A few of the women are in need of some help.”

“We will arrange some company for him. I suspect it will just take time mostly, time and some care.”A frown passed over Ariadne's face. “Tell him.... Tell him that I will be here to talk to him when he is ready.”

“I will.”

“And also tell him that I am going to keep wearing the ring until he is able to talk more rationally.”

Samantha smiled at that. “I will definitely tell him that.”

Ariadne nodded and took a deep breath. “And give him all the paper, quills and ink that he could want for. I think that he will need a lot.”

The part of me that was still me took that in and realised that I was in for some hard times from the Herbalist in the near future. Gentle and caring hard times. But hard times nonetheless.

The Cartwright arrived and was brought up to speed. Easily lifting me to my feet where he and his wife discovered that I could stand and walk providing one of them was nearby.

The corner building was a cottage on the end of Ariadne's estate. I gather that it was meant as a place where guests could come and escape to. If Maleficent wanted somewhere where she could just be out of the way of people for a while, or if Madam Yennefer needed somewhere quiet to think or any of the other acquaintences of the Spider-Queen needed somewhere to lay low for a little while. Most often though it was used as a store room and before I could lay down, blankets were moved aside until room was cleared for a bed.

The Cartwright went off to arrange a bath for me and I was stripped, cleaned, fed and put to bed where I was aided in falling asleep with some herbal assisstance.

It was not a restful sleep though. I woke up several times and found myself in tears, only to discover that Samantha had moved in with me and was sleeping on a pallet that had been dragged into the small area that was meant for the preparation of food.

It was a very bleak time for me and I don't want to talk about it too much. I am still recovering from it, even now and some of the things that happened in that small cottage are not for repeating. I raged, I wept and I....

Ok, here it is.

I made an attempt on my own life. Not a serious one but it was a dangerous one. I wrote a suicide note and was looking round for a dagger to open my veins. Fortunately, my weapons and eating knife had been taken away and by the time I had realised that the dagger cannot be found, the cold of the night air had shocked me into a more wakeful state. It was this that had saved my life and for a while there I was worried that my unconscious brain would take over and decide to commit suicide on my behalf.

Samantha is a healer of the highest order and she understood more about what was going on in my head than I like to think. But she was also aware that there were injuries and sickness here that she could do little about. She fed me, she helped me sleep and she held me like a sister as I wept. I spent most of that time in a plain shirt and leather pair of trousers. Bare foot, but a pair of slippers kept my feet warm and I was wrapped in a blanket.

A few days into this and Fluffy came to live with me. It might sound horrific, especially to those of you who are arachnophobes but, as I say, as a soft and furry beast, he was quite warm and comforting when he curled up and lay on my chest. He seemed to have a sixth sense about when I was struggling with this or that and would then take steps to ensure that I was taking care of myself.

I kept a journal during those first few weeks. I don't know why. It wasn't even remotely comforting, wrapped in a blanket trying to hide from the sunlight that shone in through the windows which Samantha would insist on throwing the shutters wide each day. It was cool but not cold. But Fluffy knew when I was beginning to feel wretched. When I started to find my mood slipping down and the tears would not stop flowing so that the ink splattered and stained on the page, then Fluffy would scurry up on the table and sit on the paper, looking up at me.

I don't know what species of spider Fluffy is but two of his eyes are larger than the others that cluster round these two larger eyes. They appear biiger and more soulful than some human eyes that I have seen. I started to get the feeling that I could sense what he was thinking and that right then and there, he was telling me that it was time to stop and to stroke the furry spider in front of him.

Specifically on the join between the two halves of his body. I swear that you have never heard a more content sound than a spider purring.

Another short Fluffy Anecdote. I was doing some exercise. Samantha insisted that I not just let myself go. So She took me for walks around the, admittedly beautiful, herb gardens. She didn't say anything during all of this time. She just walked with me and listened. The only time she talked was when she was giving me an instruction or telling me to do something. But she had told me that I needed to do some exercies. And after a couple of days, I had found that my body missed it. That it wanted to exercise. But sometimes, physical exertion actually made my mood worse.

I don't know why either. On the second day of exercises, I was allowed to carry my spear. I got half-way through my normal drills before I realised that I was getting sloppy in my form. It wasn't until after that that I realised that I was weeping. Tears streaming down my face and I let go of the spear until it clattered into the gravel that I was standing on.

Part of the problem was that these exercises left me too much time to spend in my own head. Which meant that it had nothing else to think of other than the whole mess that I was in and that mess was not changing for allowing me to stew in it. The potent mixture of anger, frustration at the lack of answers, shame as to what I had allowed to happen, sadness at our failure to do anything and if I thought about any of these things for too long then a ball of self-loathing would begin to form in the pit of my stomach until it grew and grew and grew until it consumed everything else.

But this is a story about Fluffy. One day, I was doing some exercises. I was still being stubborn about it all and was still forcing my way through everything. Sweat was pouring from me and the now constant tears hovered in the corners of my eyes. It was an exercise that Kerrass calls “Trunk-curling” where you lie on your back, feet flat on the floor so that your knees are bent, hands behind your head and you have to lift yourself up so that your head touches your knees. It's designed to build up the strength in your torso although, like any exercise, it can be dangerous if you overdo it.

So I was doing this, probably doing myself more harm than good when Fluffy got up from where he had been having a nap, stretched and walked over to me where he watched me doing these exercises for a while.

Then he climbed up unit my chest and sat there looking at me.

It was the first time that his feet had felt particularly sharp to me although I suppose that there must be some form of hooking going on to enable him to climb walls. But he just sat there and looked at me.

“Ok ok, I'm done.” I said and climbed to my feet where Fluffy nuzzled my face a bit before allowing me to climb up and return to my work. Then he promptly climbed back onto the pile of blankets in the corner and went back to sleep.

It sounds funnier than it actually was. All told, that part of things was a couple of weeks long. But it was a long couple of weeks and things got pretty dark. I still have the diary entries that I made from that period of time and they do not make for good reading. When you can make out what I've written at all it gets quite intense. But there are some moments of humour. It's one of those things where there would be moments that would make me laugh. Watching Samantha interact with her husband was always a joy.

He would not have it any other way and it was clear that he loved her for it. But she is much more intelligent than he is and has a much sharper sense of humour. So every so often, bearing in mind that they are still inside their first year of marriage, she has a tendency to take out her frustrations on him. Then he gets a look, his face kind of darkens and tightens up before he turns and leaves. Then Samantha always, and I do mean always, realises that she has taken things that little bit too far and bursts into tears of her own as she enjoys a little bit of self-recrimination.

Then he comes back with a bunch of flowers and apologises, but his first marriage taught him that it is better to walk away from a fight than to stay and make the problem worse.

It was also the beauty of the place that started to get through to me. The wind was echoing off the mountains where the snow cap was getting larger and larger by the day. Which meant that the wind was getting colder and colder. The warm, damp air from the river valley rose to meet the cooler air from the mountains and that, in turn led to some spectacular storms. But that went both ways. On the one hand, I would be able to enjoy the sheer spectacle of nature's fury as it spent itself on the lands. But on the other hand, I remembered the storm that heralded the approach of the Goddess and I feel the guilt again.

There are parts of those weeks that I don't remember. Samantha swears that she and I spent a lot of time talking about the Goddess but I remember none of that. Apparently I got quite angry in various parts of that conversation, but my mind is just a blank. Apparently I once snuck out the house when Samantha wasn't looking and made it half way up the road before one of the locals, who knew that I was staying up at the manor house found me and took me home.

So you might be asking yourself what the turning point was. At what point did I start climbing out of the hole that I had dug for myself in my own mind. The answer is, unfortunately, that I have no idea. I am not entirely convinced that I have completely made it out of the hole to be honest. There are days when I look back at who I was during that couple of weeks and it seems like a dizzying difference between who I was at the time and who I am now. But likewise, there are other days where I am forced to hold onto myself so tightly for fear that I might fall backwards into the mire of dissappointment, frustration and self-loathing.

So I have no idea when things turned around. No clue at all. What I know is that one day I started working again. I remember that I had finished my journal entry for the day. I had shed a lot of tears as I tend to after writing in my journal and I was staring at the flame. I seem to recall a sense of boredom. I remember blowing my nose and pulling over my “Jack” satchel which is the bag that I keep my copy of the “Jack” book and I started reading through what I had written.

Samantha claims that she found me later, asleep, with my face stuck to the paper a few hours later. She was probably exaggerating though. She likes to do that when it paints me in an unflattering light.

But that is not to say that I got better over night. I needed a lot of help for that. And there were good days and there were bad days. There were days where Samantha and I would spend the day laughing and joking while she did odd chores around the small cottage. She had brought her herbalism equipment over and was beavering away with it. There were still some days where she set everything aside to just watch me and sit with me while I struggled to keep breathing in and out. But there were days where we would be sat and talking with one another. She called it Banter and on those days, I felt good. Fragile, but good and it still took just one too many comments in the wrong direction to send me back into a downward spiral.

I've since been told that you don't get over these things over night. Nor should you I suppose.

Emma arrived first out of everyone. Not really a surprise. The friendship that had first been established between Emma and Ariadne during what they laughably call my courtship was strong and inseparable now.

To the point where Emma and Laurelen had permananent guest quarters. That makes it sound grander than it actually was. It was a small building, attached by the ever-present walkways, that had it's own bedroom, sleeping area and pair of smaller rooms that the two women used as a study each.

Emma arrived on a good day

We didn't really have a great deal of time to talk. I was still hiding in my little hut, so my understanding of the way that things were working was that Laurelen and Emma gated into the room that Ariadne has set for precisely that purpose. Emma came over to see me but I was off somewhere. Then the three women had dinner where they talked about various things and then Emma came out to see me again.

It was late, we were both tired.... I find that I'm getting tired a lot easier and quicker at the moment, and we didn't say much.

I remember one moment where I was sat on my work stool with the piles of papers lying around me and Emma stood up from where she had sat on the bed. I was struggling to look at her and kept turning away to look at something that I had written on the desktop. But I remember that Emma stood up and from there looked down at me.

I found it really hard to look her in the eye. I don't know why. Some form of shame I suppose but I remember that her lips were thin and pushed together. I got the sense of someone who was holding a lot in.

And oh boy was she.

But she gave me a little hug and told me that she would come and see me in the morning. That we would talk then.

The following morning she came to see me after breakfast. I had not slept well, the threat of the coming conversation was enough to keep me up, awake and at my desk. I was pushing the eggs around my plate in the morning when Emma came into the hut like a little whirlwind.

“I want to talk to my brother.” She told Samantha. For a moment, I sat there, a little bit bemused as I thought I was seeing the final test of that age old question of who would win in a fight between the unstoppable force and the immovable object. But in the end, Samantha went quietly, telling us both that she would be just outside if we needed her.

“Right.” Emma folded her arms and looked down at me. “What's going on with you?” She demanded.

I looked up at her, still not quite able to look her in the eyes.

“That's a big question Emma.” I told her. “Do you want to sit down?” I gestured towards the bed.

“No.” She told me. “I am trying to decide if I am cross with you or not and if I am angry then I want to be standing up.”

I nodded mutely.

“Freddie, what happened?”

I would like to think that I opened my mouth to speak but it seemed that the question was largely rhetorical.

“I see you last, a little under six months ago and since then you've worked wonders. You solved one of the greatest riddles that the continent has seen, despite so few people having actually heard of the Skeleton Ship before you had anything to do with it. You help install a new Jarl of Skellige and arrange matters so that our ships do not get attacked by Dimun pirates. I've got reports from Merchant Captains that say they've even been escorted by Dimun longships, all the while they've been shitting themselves that the Skelligans are about to start slaughtering them.”

“Emma I...”

“I've got an all but monopoly on trade with Skellige and our ships travel further and faster in that part fo the world because of that. If we weren't rich then, we are now. Flame Freddie, then the Jarl that you travelled with manages to become ambassador to Nilfgaard and you broker a deal that we have liased with, to found a new clan. Including building their keep for him. I've seen those plans and that castle is still going to be here long after the rest of us have been forgotten about.”

“Emma...” I gritted my teeth.

“They're calling it “The castle on the rock.” apparently. There's an argument between the engineers that we've sent from Temeria and some of the Skelligans. The Skelligans are not used to thinking of castles with relatively small walls to prevent sife-weapon fire from causing damage. They want huge keeps with imposing walls.”

I sighed a little.

“So I was absolutely expecting to come over here to find you and Kerrass sitting in some kind of triumph. I expected you to be holding court with a group of admirers sitting there, listening to your stories while you and Kerrass tell us all about how you met the great Black Boar and exactly how you arranged to be friends with the Queen of Skellige. Someone else I need to fit into the wedding order between you and Ariadne. Let alone the Queen's personal guard, brother, his guard and.....”

I was back to looking at the table. I rather thought that Emma was working up to something and was inspecting the paperwork for blotches so I missed some of her body language.

“Freddie what happened? I come over here to expect to find a brother in triumph and instead find that you've gone into seclusion, that you've called off your engagement and that Kerrass is nowhere to be seen. Sent off in disgrace apparently. What in the name of the Eternal Fire happened?”

I waited a moment to check whether it was my turn to talk. Turns out that it was.

“A lot Emma. A lot happened.”

“It would have to be a lot.” She raged, her own temper and worry finally getting the better of her.

I winced and clenched my eyes tightly.

“I mean it would have to be a lot for you to call off the marriage to the woman you love. And you can't tell me that you don't love her Freddie, I know you too well. And she loves you as well despite how utterly stupid you've been over the last.... And then you send your best friend away.”

“To be fair I....” I tried but I was cut off by the first tremor.

“I know, I know that Ariadne sent him away really but why didn't you stop her. He's your best friend?”

And now we were off. I started trembling violently and I felt dizzy. I clenched my eyes shut and curled up on myself until I had my head between my knees, fists clenched to the side of my head.

“Freddie you have to.... Freddie? Freddie, what's wrong?”

I had gritted my teeth against the tremors. “Gettttt. Samantha.” I managed to force out.

“Who? Oh....”

I heard the sound of the door banging and female voices. Then Samantha's voice voice ordering Emma about.

“Pass me that blanket, no the thick, soft one. Then there is a pot over the stove that's bubbling. I need a large cup of it.”

The blanket was draped around my shoulders and there were the sounds of pots and pans being moved around, liquid being poured. Then approaching footsteps.

“No, he needs more milk than that. At least four spoonfuls of honey.” Samatha ordered.

“But he....”

“He needs the extra sweetness now.” Samantha snapped, nor harshly but with a note of command that all of her kind have so that they can be the boss of any room that they walk into when they need to. “Don't ask me why, it's one of those things that we simply don't know the answer to. This won't take long.”

She wasn't wrong. Already I could feel my breathing beginning to calm down. But the shudders came violently, sweat running freely down my face and back and making me shiver as I felt it trickle down my spine.

I was sucking down air.

“Count Freddie,” Samantha ordered. “Count, breathe in three heart-beats, hold it for three heart beats and then breathe out for three heartbeats.”

Another tremor ripped through me and sent me shaking, gritting my teeth as I waited for it to pass.

“What's wrong with him?” Emma asked, her voice quite small.

“A lot.” Samantha commented. “He's uncommonly stupid, remarkably ugly and cursed with far too much intelligence for a man. Too much intelligence and absolutely no ability to use it at all.” I opened my eyes to see Emma's horrified face and I found myself laughing before another shudder hit me in the face.

“Samantha's sense of humour can...” I began before the trembling came back. They were coming quickly.

“Oh.” Samantha looked over to Emma's face where her eyes were wide and shining. “Oh that's normal. Well, right now.... We don't know is the answer. Even if you went off to the University and found me the best Doctors on the continent, we would not know what's wrong with him or why it happens.”

Samantha got up and lit a taper from the fire before lighting a candle. I don't know what's in the candles but it's some kind of herbal scent that seems to calm me down.

“His body is over-reacting to things.” Samantha cleared some blankets off a chair and placed it so that Emma could sit down. “Right now, his body thinks it's fighting for it's life when it's actually having a perfectly normal conversation between a big sister and a, more stupid, little brother.” She sniffed hugely.

She looked down at me for a moment.

“Did I do that?” Emma was appalled.

“Oh yes.” Samantha responded without sympathy. “But he woke up screaming the other night when there was a relatively light rain fall for this part of the world so I wouldn't take it personally. We just need to ride them out until body, brain and mind can get together, have a little chat and realise that whatever it is that he's terrified of is not actually happening. Believe it or not, what you're actually seeing here is the aftereffects of whatever got to him.

“Make sure he drinks everything in the cup and keep him talking. He sometimes slips into his own special little brain if you let him.”

Emma nodded. Still faintly horrified.

“Freddie?” Samantha called before kicking the chair that I was sitting on. “Oi. You with me?”

I looked up at her.

“I'm going to order water heated for a bath. You stink.”

She stomped off.

I looked up at Emma who was pulling her chair over to where I sat. She had my cup in her hand which she put in mine. I took a drink before handing it back as another tremor struck me.

“Does it hurt?” She wondered.

“No....” I told her before gritting my teeth again as a particularly strong spasm hit me. “No it doesn't hurt.”

“It looks like it hurts.”

“It's very strange.” I told her. “Being utterly helpless to whatever your body is doing. It's kind of weird that it doesn't hurt to be honest.” Another spasm hit.

“How long does it go on for?” Emma wondered after handing me the cup back.

“Until it's done.” I told her, gulping some more of the hot liquid down. “This is a relatively light attack to be honest.”

“Flame Freddie.”

“I don't agree with Samantha.” I told her between shudders. “I think that the brain does something and floods the body with stuff. But then the body rejects it as it realises that it doesn't need it. That's what's happening now. I have no idea of course.”

Emma said nothing, just stared at me in horror.

“It will stop suddenly.” I told her. “And then it just stops. I don't know why.” I flinched.

“Drink your drink.” Emma ordered. I grinned at her, it was exactly the same tone of voice that she used to use when I was younger and sick. The same way that she used to tell me to take my medicine. This time I took the cup and took a few quick swallows before I had to hand it back before it slopped over the side.

“Flame Freddie.” She whispered as another spasm shook me. “I had no idea.”

“Really?” There was an odd sense of euphoria in me at that point. I don't know why but I felt better as I watched Emma's reaction. It might seem petty of me, and it is, but still.... Her reaction told me that what I was going through was not a little deal. That she was so shaken by my appearance meant that I wasn't making it up. That someone that I always thought of as being fairly level headed could see what I was going through and be shocked by it. That they had seen the physical reactions as well as the things that might be considered “normal”. The weeping and shouting and otherwise carrying on. The presence of physical symptoms seemed to make it more acceptable in her head and hammer home that something was really happening.

“Drink your drink.” Emma ordered and I did so. “Are you sure it doesn't hurt?”

“Emma, it doesn't hurt. I will pay for it later. I get stiff after a bit and....”

“How often does this happen?”

“It seems to go through phases. It's happening a lot at the moment...”

“Drink your drink.”

“Thanks. It's happening a lot at the moment. It first started happening in the shrine with Father Jerome after the incident at Amber's Crossing and happened a few times after that. Then again after the whole business when I first met Ariadne.”

I put the cup down as another shudder went through me. There's no quantifying things but I kind of got the feeling that things were abating.

“Then it didn't happen again for a long time until we were first riding away from Kalayn lands in the north. I have no idea why. Either for the delay or why it suddenly started again.”

“Have you seen a doctor about it?”

“I spent some time with Doctor Shani and talked about it with her.”

“Good. Drink your drink.”

“She actually told me not to spread it around too many other medical professionals because they might want to lock me up in some kind of sanitorium. Beyond that, she defined things by how much we don't know about the way that the body and the mind interact and cooperate. She thought it was significant that they never happen during the moments of crises, but afterwards. She admitted that she was probably making all of that up though.”

“I like her.” Emma shook her head as though she was shaking some thought loose. “Sorry, I'm trying not to get distracted.”

I frowned and winced as another shudder struck me. They were definitely getting less and further apart. “Are you alright?”

She laughed. “And you're asking me?”

We both laughed and then my body proved that it doesn't matter whether I thought that things were improving or not, but my body that was the final arbiter and a particularly strong spasm happened.

“I'm worried Freddie and believe you me, you and I are going to have a long conversation when you're feeling better but.... I don't know. I honestly came to Angral a little furious with you. Ariadne messaged us and told us that you had tried to break off the engagement and that you were not acting like yourself. That you were upset about something and were blowing something out of all proportion.”

I looked at Emma flatly. “I will bet my allowance that that's not what she said.”

“Well not in so many words.” Emma admitted. “But that was the impression that she gave.”

“Or that you took from what she said.” I accused gently. Emma shot me a warning look and I subsided.

“I was worried Freddie.” She told me. “You can't be cross with me for leaping to conclusions.”

Long practice with my sister has told me that there are times to pursue things and times to back away. This was not a fight for the winning and I backed down.

She took another breath. “Honestly speaking though, I came down here to tell you to pull yourself together. To get back out there, apologise to Ariadne for hurting her quite as profoundly as you have and beg her to take you back. Then I wanted you to apologise to me for worrying me but that was something that I was very aware that I would probably have to wait for.”

I smirked.

“And now?”

She laughed. “All of that is still true. Ariadne is better than you deserve and she will take you back. Indeed, as far as she's concerned she is waiting for you to be of your right mind before she talks to you about it. It's just... The “pull yourself together” bit is obviously more complicated than I had first thought it would be.”

I laughed at that.

“I wish I knew how Emma, I really do. It's not just some switch that I can turn on and off. Believe me when I say that I am doing better at the moment. There is a long way to go and I hate myself, more than a little bit and I don't know why.”

Emma nodded. “Is that what that's about?” She gestured at the papers. “Are you trying to flagellate yourself?”

“A little.” I admitted.

A sudden feeling, as though hot water had been poured down my spine, came over me and I shivered. A much different feeling than how it feels when I am going into spasming. I stood, and stretched out, feeling the joints popping and the cool air against my skin.

“Should you be standing up?” Emma wondered.

“It's over.” I told her.

“How do you know?”

I shrugged. “Experience I suppose. After a while, I just know that it's done.”

I found a towel and started towelling the drying sweat from my skin. “A bath next and that completes the cure. There's a few hours of clarity now before my brain starts to go into it's spiral again.”

“Flame Freddie.” Emma was clearly appalled. “And this is your new Normal?”

“New? Emma this is my life and has been for ages. You remember those things that Dad used to call my tantrums? I don't know but this feels a lot like that did. So is it new or is this the kind of thing that has always been happening.”

Emma's hand shot to her mouth again.

“Sorry.” I said. “Sorry.... Heightened emotional state. And all that.” A wave of shame washed over me and I turned away. “Flame dammit.” I fell back onto my stool. “Just when I think I'm moving towards getting a bit closer to being in an even head-space then something'll set me off again and here I am. A wreck.”

Emma wrapped a blanket round me, muttering something about catching a chill and hugged me as I wept.

“Flame Freddie. What did this Goddess of Kerrass' do to you?”

“Do? She answered my questions. She told me things that I didn't want to hear and kept things back that I so desperately needed to know. She was cryptic when I wanted clarity. Clear when I wanted to believe the illusion and then she laughed when I told her how little she helped me.”

Emma rubbed my back. “Oh Freddie.” She shounded on the edge of tears herself.

The door to the cottage opened and Samantha came in. “How's the patient?” She demanded.

“Fucking lovely.” I told her.

“Good. Because you look fucking awful.” She told me. “Come on, your bath is ready.”

I allowed myself to be led. Emma helped and I needed it as I felt like an old man. All my limbs had stiffened up with the sudden change of the euphoria of the incident and then back into the depression. Emma left me to go and talk with Laurelen and Ariadne. “Business to take care of “ apparently, but I wasn't fooled. She wanted to run things past both women and talk things through. She had been shaken and was re-evaluating.

I bathed, had a nap, had something to eat and went for a walk with my two nursemaids. Samantha walked beside me as she tended to some of the herbs in the garden while Fluffy rode on my shoulder, chittering in my ear and occasionally nuzzling my cheek when I found my thoughts going down dark avenues.

Later I would come to be surprised about how comfortable I was with Fluffy given my latent arachnaphobia. But the truth was that I didn't really think of him as a spider. He was just Fluffy.

He had made himself scarce behind a box of blankets when Emma had been there. Rather discrete of him, I thought.

Emma came back to see me later that afternoon. She looked pale and uncomfortable and when she sat down, on a chair in my little cottage, she spent a lot of time arranging herself until she was happy with things. It's the kind of thing that she does when she's putting off an unpleasant chore.

“Here it comes.” I thought to myself as I squared myself up ready for a fight.

Which didn't come.

I watched her and I waited, silently willing my body and my mood to behave itself. It rather struck me that the last thing my sister needed or wanted was for me to lose my temper or burst into tears or otherwise have a flash of over the top emotion.

Then she looked at me out of the corner of her eye and the situation was no longer tenable. I laughed. Then she looked at me in horror, shock and then her own sense of the ridiculousness came to the fore and she laughed with me.

“Ah Freddie.” She said. “Look at us both. Look at what we've become.”

“Are we so different?” I wondered.

“Yes.” She told me simply. “I no longer live in secret either with my personal life or with my professional life and you are a person of importance. You absent-mindedly make friends and have contact with those people in the world that can change the course of nations and I get letters from you, or them, saying things like. “Oh yeah, the scariest pirate that exists on the continent has decided that he likes me and is no longer going to attack our shipping.” Or. “The Empress of the continent has heard of us because of what our brother has written and now she is adopting us all into her family.” Or. “Hi, we need all the resources that you can bring to bear in order to help us fight against an overwhelming enemy.”

“Since you have started your journeys I have become on first name basis with a significant chunk of the Lodge of Sorceresses. The Empress of the continent writes to ask me for advice on the way her treasury secretary is running the continent while insisting that I call her Ciri. One of my closest friends is an Elder Vampire and.... Oh Freddie. We are not the same people that we were. It dizzies me with all the things that have happened over the last couple of years. This is not normal.”

I let the silence in after she finished her little tirade.

“No, I supposed not.”

We both laughed at that and she shook her head as she inspected a patch of wall.

“You taught me a great lesson over the summer did you know that?” She asked.

“Which one?”

“I'm racist.” She said. “That's not the lesson although that was another, painful lesson that I had to learn. Everything that you said that day in the woods outside of Kalayn castle is right. I'm racist and I have to work at it every day to be better if I can get to the day where I look at a dwarf and see a person first rather than seeing a dwarf. Where I can see a tall, thin and attractive person and don't look at the shape of their ears. But, that's not the lesson.

“The lesson you taught me was to look at the entire picture. As a merchant I have to look at the details while also trusting my gut instinct. I have been doing this so long that I often see something before I realise that I've seen it. But to get there I have to inspect the small print in every deal that I sign. I have to.... weigh every transaction in my head and try to figure out why it feel wrong somehow. But that means that I sometimes don't see the Forest for the trees.

“The example is that I don't see the fact that the Elven Craftsman that is over charging me for the.... whatever it is, is doing so because he is starving and because he needs to feed his family. Because he's having to cover “non-human” tarriffs and the like.

“I nearly did the same thing here. I came down here to kick your ass. I came down here to tear you a new ass-hole and to tell you to pull yourself together. I came here to tell you to sort yourself out and to.... heh.... to man up. I wasn't going to put it in so many words but that was what I was going to do. I was going to tell you to sort yourself out and then get back to work. To the real work. To sort out your marriage, to talk to Ariadne and realize just how fucking blessed you are that you've been able to do and say the things that you want to do and say over the course of your life. And meet all the people that you wanted to meet.

“I knew that you were upset, but I thought of it as being upset in the same way that I get upset when a trade deal falls through, or the way that Laurelen gets upset when some of her research doesn't work out.

“But it's not is it.”

I took a deep breath. “No it's not.”

“Flame Freddie. I had read your stories about being sick after Amber's Crossing and your empathy for Father Gardan and the woman Ella. And I thought you were exaggerating. I thought it was something that.... To use one of your phrases. I knew that it was a thing. But I didn't believe it.

“Well now I've seen it. And I believe it. I am so sorry.”

“I'm sorry too Emma. I should have talked to you about....”

She held her hand up. “Self-examination is a wonderful thing. If you had told me about all of this before-hand, I wouldn't have listened.”

I nodded my acceptance of that.

“So, unlike how I did in the North.” Emma smiled a little. “I am going to go away and think. I have a lot of things that I want to say to you and we have things to talk about. Don't be afraid. I need your advice on some stuff. About trade, Sam and several other factors as well. But there are some things that I need to say and I need to work out whether or not I am right to do so, or whether I'm being a bitch.”

“You might be wrong.” I told her. “But I love you and you are never a bitch.”

“Many of my competitors would disagree.” She told me with a smile. “But I want to think some things through. I'm going to send messages to Mark and get him to come down here. I think you need spiritual guidance and his illness and pending mortality has made him wise.”

“The horror.” I joked.

“Out of all of us Freddie. He is the one that has worked harder to improve himself. He deserves better than your jokes.”

I nodded my acceptance of the rebuke. It was deserved.

“But I will get Mark to bring his visit forward a bit. I will still be here for Yule. You know that we are all going to Toussaint in the new year?”

“I do although no-one has made it clear why yet. I know that Ariadne wants to show me something.”

“She does. But there's more to that now that has come up while you were travelling. Don't worry about it for now. But I will be back, sooner rather than later. But for now. I want to say that I love you, more than you can know.”

She looked at me for a long time. “I can't lose you Freddie. Not you as well. Please don't forget that.”

“I won't.” I had to turn away, my treacherous heart and mind were bringing tears to my eyes so I couldn't say more. She had left before I could regain my control.

When I turned around, Samantha was sat in Emma's place. She had brought some knitting with her and was sat, her fingers and hands were working.

“Your sister did well I thought.” She said.

“What?”

“Your sister. She did really well. Don't be too hard on her.”

“I didn't realise I was being hard on her.”

“Yes you were. You were getting upset and angry with her for not understanding what you are going through. You were getting yourself all worked up. I'm never one to say that someone doesn't deserve to feel the way that they feel. But it's also true that, in this case, it's a little unfair.”

“I don't understand.” I told her. “I love my sister and....”

“But you're pissed at her aren't you.” She pointed at me and grinned. “Don't fib. You're much easier to read than you think. Furthermore, I know that you hate yourself for it and it's that that's upsetting you. If you didn't know that you were being unfair you would just be cross with her, go and hit something or shag something or get drunk and then get over it.”

“I still don't understand. What did she do well at?”

Samantha stared at me as though I was terminally stupid. She might be right.

“I'm a good Herbalist, did you know that?”

“I never had any doubt.” I settled back and got comfortable. I can recognise a lecture when it's beginning.

“I mean, I probably don't know as much about the body as your Dr Shani does.”

“She's not my Dr Shani.”

Samantha waved her hand dismissively to emphasise the unimportance of that point.

“But I know more about things than your average person. Certainly more than you.”

“I never had any doubt about that either.”

She snorted.

“So we come to back injuries.”

“Wait, what?”

“Shut up. You might learn something.” She snapped. “Back injuries are the strangest things in the world. Almost as weird as head injuries but there is something about back injuries that we just don't understand. A man can be injured in his back and not notice it. Then several years later he wakes up one morning and he can't move. Or a man can walk with a stoop his entire life, then he lies funny one night, has a day or two of incredible agony, then he gets up and dances a jig and everyone realises that he's actually the tallest man in the village.

“I used to live in a working village. That kind of thing happens all the time.”

“Right but I don't....”

“But the other problem with back injuries is that sometimes they come back, with no warning and because no-one can see them. I'm gonna tell you a story now and it's a story that you won't like. You're going to sit there and wonder why I'm telling you this story and I promise that I will at the end. But for the meantime, I need you to shut the hell up and stay the fuck still. Can you do that Freddie because sometimes I think that this simple task is beyond you.”

“I can do that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“Because I'm going to smack the shit out of you if you....”

“I can do it.”

She nodded and stared out the window for a while.

“There was a man in the village that I helped to treat. I was still an apprentice to the old lady if we're honest but I knew enough to only really need her help in the more complicated cases. He was a good man, salt of the earth, pillar of the community. He was never going to be mayor or sit on any of the councils but he was the kind of man that if you needed some help with something complex then you would ask him to come and help you. Communities are built on the backs of men like him.”

I nodded to show understanding.

“One day, this was well before the war, before the second war even and the village was still thriving really. He was helping someone build a house. It was one of those situations where a child was leaving home and needed somewhere to live with their new spouse or something. I was much busier then and didn't have time to listen to gossip. But he was helping move a hearthstone and put it into place. It wasn't a big stone as hearthstone's go. But he and the man he was helping were carrying this thing across the field to put it where it needed to be.”

She sighed and frowned as she realised that I hadn't drunk anything for a while and got up to start mixing me a drink.

“It was an accident. No-one thought differently. The other man lost his balance, slipped and let go of the stone. Fair enough, these things happen. But the other man, our hero, the man I'm talking about does something stupid.

“He tries to catch the stone.

“Two people's worth of stone and he tries to catch it by himself, adjusting his grip. Later, he admits that he didn't really think about it. That he did it automatically and that he was worried that it might fall on his friend and injure them seriously. Both of which are perfectly natural, true and understandable. His friend was able to recover and they moved on.”

She stirred the pot over the fire and added some more herbs. I was fascinated by the insight into village life. The scholar's instinct rearing it's head in my soul again.

“Later that day, the man starts to feel this aching pain in his back. He describes it as a dull throb. By the end of the day he feels stiff, useless and ungainly and as he walks home he describes a feeling like needles of fire crawling up his leg.

“But because he's the kind of man he was, he thinks he's just worked a bit too hard. He's done more and worked harder in the past. He laughs with his wife and kids about it and comments that he's getting old. He makes love with his wife that night.

“In the morning he feels stiff but otherwise ok and does a slightly sluggish days work. That night, his wife asks him to fetch something out of the rafters of their home and he finds that he can't pull himself into the rafters as he hisses with pain. His wife is worried now and he promises that if he feels no better in the morning then he will go to the herb-woman.

“In the morning, he is clumsy. In his half-asleep moment he falls out of bed and howls in an agony that wakes the village.”

She poured me a cup of the herbal brew that she made and then poured another one for herself.

“My teacher and I go and enquire. The old woman had this look that she gets when a situation is more serious than it first appears. The man's wife is wringing her hands in near hysterics because her man can't stand up. The children are in another room being comforted by Grandparents, asking questions like “Is daddy going to die?” and the rest of the village is clustering round the house.”

She took a deep swallow of the drink.

“My teacher declares that it's a back injury. Various people scoff and point out the fact that there is no blood, no bone sticking out, no puss, no fever, what is the injury? My teacher scowls at them and tells them, correctly, that not all injuries are visible. She gives the man something for the pain and gives him some tasks to do. She enforces rest, and then a series of exercises to do in order to allow the muscles to heal and then rebuild.

“The rest of the village pitch in. They help with the children, other men do his share of the work. The man who was supposed to be helping with the stone, especially, is mortified at the new sickness of his friend. But recovery is slow. When the man, his family and the village express frustration at the slowness of recovery my teacher just says that that's the way these things work. She also says that these injuries come back without warning and that he should be prepared for that.”

“But the man gets better and gradually he returns to work. He's a little slower, a little stiffer than he was before but people expect that.” He helps the village see through the harvest, prepare for winter and sjuts everything down for the snows and the storms.

“Then the spring comes. Some of the fences have been blown over during the storms and the man takes out his mallet to reseat the fence posts. Sights the first one. Brings the mallet swinging round his head and....

“Screams as the mallet slips out of his hand. My teacher is fetched and she tells everyone that she warned them that this could happen and that he needs to restart the healing process.

“The healing takes longer this time. His kids don't understand it. They thought Daddy was better. Some of the elders and the younger folk in the village complain about supposed laziness. But the man's wife and his friends stick by their man.

“He is better in late Spring and is a little more cautious with his work. He works the rest of that year without problems, keeps himself limber over winter and works for the next year easily. Both he and his wife watch for problems like hawks. She's all over him, has he worked too hard, does he need a back rub, warming oils, some of the herbs that my old teacher recommends?

“Then that summer. He and his wife decide that they are going to try for another baby. They go off like giggling young folk. In the same way that I do with my new husband. They go off with a picnic basket and a blanket on a warm, rest day. Half the morning goes by and the wife comes running back. It seems that, posessed of a romantic spirit, the man had tried to carry his wife across the stream, just as they had when they were younger newlyweds. He dropped her and she cut her forehead.

“Nasty rumours follow him for a while. Despite his protests and hers, that he never hit her. That is his reputation now. My teacher has gone by this point. My sister has married the innkeeper and the man is injured. Same problem as before. I can put my hands on him and feel the swelling. I do everything that I am supposed to.

“But the rumours of a fight and that he hit his wife just won't go away. She is visibly injured. There is blood, cut flesh, whereas he, to all visible means, is perfectly fine. But she is the one that carries on working while he stays in bed.

“The children are older now and start to drift away from their father. They don't understand it and start to lose their respect for him.

“This time, only his closest friends stay by his side and help. But even they receive criticism for helping so obvious a wife-beater.”

She sighed and I saw that the memory upset her. I rather thought I knew where the story was going now.

I was wrong.

“The healing takes even longer. I suspect because he is frustrated himself. He wants life to get back to normal. He wants to care for his wife, care for his children and contribute to the village as a whole. In part so that he can have his reputation back. So he tries to do too much and gives himself a set-back.

“He and his wife have a proper row. She tells him that he must put the work in, as the healers told him to. He takes that on board and buckles down to the recovery. He gets better and sets to work.

“Two years later he starts to feel a numbness in his toes. Six months after that he's walking with a limp which is when I get hold of him. He tells me that he's in agony most of the time. But that he daren't complain. He doesn't want his wife to think less of him for it. He doesn't want his children to look at him and see a weakling. He doesn't want the rest of the village to see him a s a free-loader.

“I tell him that he's foolish but I do my best to help him.

“It's autumn and a merchant's wagon is stuck in the mud. One of the last merchants before the war. He comes out to help. The men heave and push and pull and heave and as the wagon leaves they notice our man kneeling in the mud, in the lashing rain and he can't stand up

“This time even his best friend looks at him with doubt in his eyes. He makes it to his feet. I am sent for and as I warned, he has inflamed the old injury.

“But there is nothing visible. Still no blood, still no bone or bruising. Still no large-scale swelling or blistering. His back isn't swollen to the naked eye. There is no fever or any other kind of health problems. But he's rolling around in agony.

“The couple's friends turn away from them. The eldest of the two children leaves home to start an apprenticeship the next village over. The youngest is now getting bullied in the village because of his cowardly and lazy father. One day, his parents in law come to visit. They take his wife aside and tell her to set him aside. He hears his wife say that she will think about it.”

Samantha sighed.

“That woman would later hate herself for years because of that. She said it to get her parents to leave. She had realised that they weren't going to go unless they got the answer that they wanted and she absolutely refused to leave her husband. Even though she admitted herself that she had no understanding of this... invisible maladay that seemed to strike her husband down. The priest had claimed, correctly, that there was no curse. A travelling mage had doen the same. But she couldn't understand it.

“That night, her husband took no food from her. She saw that he was upset and angry but could not draw him on the reason why.

“They slept in separate rooms now because her night-time movements jarred him painfully. In the morning when she went to bring him breakfast. She found that he had gone outside, found one of his old skinning knives from when he caught fish in the river with his sons. And had slit his own throat.”

She stared into space for a long time before she shook herself.

“The moral of the story is that some illnesses are invisible. We can't see them. Even more than that, some illnesses are acceptable to society and some are not. When a person first gets ill then their friends and co-workers rally round them. The second time that the person gets sick.... well.... Let's just say that a person finds out who their real friends are.

“Your sister is doing well. I have read your travels now, you have to if you're going to live here and understand why the countryside holds you in reverence. I've kind of appointed myself to be your needle in order to stop your head from over-inflating. But there are no physical signs of your injuries other than the torture you suffered in Lyria. So your injury is not visible and anyone could be forgiven for thinking that there is nothing wrong with you.

“Your sister is trying to understand. She is doing well. She did not just walk in here, order you to pull yourself together and sort yourself out. I do think you have more difficult conversations to have with her yet. Talks that neither of you will enjoy, before all of this is over. But she is doing better than most would, that most have, in her position.

“Your sister must love you very much. She is doing really well with this.”

I nodded and looked away for a moment before a question occurred to me.

“And how am I doing?” It suddenly seemed odd that I hadn't asked that question before.

She smiled at me, sadly and kindly and I felt myself become afraid. “You're doing pretty good.” She began. “You have some way to go yet though. And there are some things that need to be said, that you are not ready to hear. Not yet anyway.”

“Such as?”

She looked at me for a long time before sighing and looking away. “It's time to stop this, My Lord.”

“I'm not your....”

“Do not be naive.” She snapped. “Yes you are and you need to hear this. You are not going to come back from this one. And even if you do, you almost certainly won't come back from the next one. You absolutely intend to climb on your horse and ride onto seek your answers from the next thing and the next spirit and the next God. But I am telling you now. As your Herbalist and, for now, your healer. You need to stop before you get yourself killed. Or worse.”

“Worse?” I felt the tears at the back of my throat.

“Yes My Lord. You and I both know that there is worse than death.”

She left me then and I was glad. Because then I didn't need to hide my tears from her.