As time went by I began to see more and more signs of strain on him. Hie appetite was becoming less and less. He was eating the same amount, but I got the feeling that he was doing so to keep his strength up rather than because he wanted the food. He had this front that he presented to people as he tried to keep the outward cheer and passion going. But it was also clear that, as soon as people were out of sight, that he simply seemed to fold in on himself. I started to catch him leaning on fence posts and door frames in order to get his breath back. I noticed that his attendants would cover him and obscure him from sight so that people, including me, wouldn't notice that he was losing strength.

I rather thought he was wearing makeup to hide some of the signs of strain in his face.

One of our last visits was to the site of the dead spot where the former Lord of Angral had had his manor and he had sat on his horse and stared at that space for a long time with a look of stone on his face. Then he wept at the small shrine nearby where the remains of Lord Dorme's totem had been buried. Where the remains of the little girl had been placed when they had been removed from the bag and laid to rest with all the tenderness that a Bishop of the Eternal Flame and the priestess of Melitele could muster.

We stood there for a long time, the two of us. We stood there as the rain came down. If I had been stood on the outside of that moment looking in, I would probably have laughed at the cliché but at the time, as I always think when I'm part of such moments, Sometimes two men stand next to a grave in the rain.

But the rain didn't fall prettily from our noses, nor were we immune to the cold tha the water brought. And Mark was beginning to feel the effects of the last week or so having to be in full on “Cardinal guise” as he calls it and we turned away.

I spent a bit of time thinking about the girl in the bag. From what Ariadne had said, she would have been a matter of weeks old. At most, a month old and during that time she would have been subject to such horror that the rest of us would not be able to comprehend it. By now, she would have been a year and a half old.

Old enough to be tottering around a building being chased by parents, grand-parents and older siblings as she threatened to get into problem after problem. She would have laughed for the first time. Wept for the first time. She would have known the great joy of being a child and, I hope, she would have felt the love that can be felt between a parent and a child.

I like to think so. But she hadn't. She had been torn from her mother's womb and then she had had sick rituals performed on her before she was killed and placed in a bag of human skin. I shuddered at the thought of people that could do that.

Mark was on his horse by that point. Wrapped in a fur blanket and a waterproof oil-skin. He looked pale, drawn and utterly wretched.

But there was no putting it off any further. I climbed onto the back of my own horse and we turned our horses back towards Ariadne's manor house.

She was there waiting for us. Dressed a little more formally than the “working dress” that I had last seen her in when I had first arrived. She was dressed in a long skirted dress, belted at the waist. I couldn't see too much because she was wearing a deeply hooded cloak against the rain. It had that effect that I occasionally see in the garments of some of the other Sorceresses in that it didn't seem to be subject to the rest of the water. As though there was just a null space where the rain didn't fall.

When we came into the courtyard and our escort was moving into place. Mark finally let his strings be cut and nearly fell from his horse. Ariadne was among the first to his side to catch him and help him to the ground. I dismounted and stood on the edge of things watching. It was clear that Mark was exhausted and needed rest, but I could not prevent a small rush of childish resentment that ripped through me as I looked at him and I realised that I wasn't going to have my confession heard today.

And again, I found a new depth of self-loathing.

I watched as Ariadne and a couple of the attendangts of the church of the flame, helped Mark from his horse and got him standing. I nearly giggled at the attendant's surprise at Ariadne's strength, but then they took Mark off her and he pulled himself to a standing position. He looked for me and saw where I was standing and gave me a little wave. I was in no doubt as to what the wave meant.

“Later Freddie.” Was what he was saying to me and the flash of resentment was gone just as fast. He was taken inside to his rooms where I rather thought a hot bath would already be waiting for him. That, as well as some of Samantha's finest herbal draughts and a solid, warming and above all “restoring” meal.

I watched him and the rest of the church knights go indoors other than the sentries that Ariadne's manor now had. Guard posts to protect the Cardinal I supposed, but I noticed that they all had their hands wrapped around hot, steaming drinks. Ariadne was getting herself a reputation for hospitality.

But then I realised that she and I were alone in the courtyard. She was still standing in the place where she had passed Mark over to his people and I, still stood next to my horse.

She turned and looked at me. She was not cold towards me. There was a question in her posture and neither of us said anything. Again proving that if the opportunity prevents itself, then no-one can resist obeying a cliché. Two people that love each other, standing meters apart in the rain, both of us longing to be with the other while at the same time, various factors kept us apart. My stubborness and her... I don't know. I like to think it was that she didn't want to make me feel uncomfortable or push me before I was ready. I think she was concerned that, in pushing me, or holding me too tightly, I might fall apart.

What was the question she was asking me as we stood there, looking at me in the rain? I have no idea. I suspect that It was “Are you ready yet?” But I didn't know.

I laughed bitterly at the image we were presenting to the world. It felt ridiculous to me. Stupid, arrogant and a lot of other negative things that I hated about the entire thing.

I thought I saw Ariadne smile slightly, sharing my sense of humour on the matter and she nodded. I hoped that she was acknowledging the way I felt about the entire thing and she turned away, going inside and pulling her cloak around herself as she went.

After I was sure she was out of sight, I led my own horse to the stable and took my time about caring for it. There was comfort there in the basic chores that come with caring for an animal. The long, brush-strokes and the ensuring that they were comfortable. And everytime I decide to do a proper job of caring for my horse, I always decide that I should do a better job of it in the future. That I should care more and work on my horse more. And I should. But it always seems to slip my mind in the heat of the moment.

So I stayed in the stables. It was warm in there, pleasantly so and I was reminded of home suddenly. I looked for the grooms and, not finding them, I found a stool and sat, just inside the stables and looked out as the rain pounded the courtyard flat and the thunder rolled overhead.

It was four days before Mark came to see me to talk about what I had written regarding the Goddess. That is not to say that nothing happened during that time however.

For a start, much to my astonishment, Madame Yennefer turned up. Out of the blue and unlooked for. She trotted through a teleport gate with two mules, laden with boxes of various kinds, that she pulled behind her with a halter rope. I didn't see it but I'm told that Ariadne came out to meet her with a laugh and a smile and the two women walked back indoors with their arms round each other companionably, laughing as they went.

The only thing that might be more terrifying, from my point of view, is if Madame Eilhart had turned up as well.

But Lady Yennefer moved in and came to see me almost straight away.

“I hear that you've been putting yourself through some nonsense.” She told me as she came into my little hut. She stood in the kitchen and surveyed the area with her violet gaze and a raised eyebrow.

“Something like that.” I answered. “I was...”

She held her hands up. “I don't care.” She told me. “You are surrounded by people that are trying to help you with that kind of thing and that's not what I'm here for.”

I felt my mouth trying to smile. I liked Madame Yennefer. She is, of course, absurdly attractive and any man, any man who claims to think differently is clearly lying. But although I might, once, have been quite open to an adventure or two I think that she and I would drive each other mad. It's like admiring the beauty of a far away Griffin as it sails lazily through the air.

I suspect that if we were romantically involved, I would have no patience for her mental games that she plays with people, while she would have no patience with my occasional need to be... I don't know.... loved? She would just assume that I knew that she loved me and that that was that.

I'm just guessing though. To me, she was beautiful on an aesthetic level but nothing more than that. I couldn't have told you much more about it.

“I'm here,” She stared at a chair that had some folded clothes on it. She frowned until I got up and moved the offending articles so that she could sit down.

“I'm here,” she began again. “Because Ciri is in Cintra with her other father and wanted Geralt and I to go with her. Cintra is...” Her face softened from the mask that she most often wears for a moment. “Cintra is a problem for me,” Then her face hardened again. “And weeks of being feted by the former Emperor while he shows off “what he's done with the place” while he walks around with that girl on his arm that looks so much like his own daughter. Only younger. Is not my idea of a good time.”

I hid a smile behind a cup.

“So I shall go for Yule and the day after Yule where we'll all be lying around after having eaten too much and drank too much for their to be much going on anyway and then I shall come back here.”

“With respect Lady Yennefer, that doesn't tell me why you're here.”

“I'm here to work Frederick. I'm here to work. We're near the end of our little book now and we need to start bringing things together.” She looked round the room again and sniffed. “But we can't work in here. Far too cramped and not nearly enough comfort for my liking. You shall come and join me in my guest rooms. Ariadne has kindly given me one of the cottages higher up in the hills. Come along.”

I felt like a tree had fallen on top of me.

The feeling of being some student and answering to a Headmistress of some kind lessened a little bit when she raised an eyebrow at the fact that I had clearly been working on my own part of the text. Indeed, I had done more work than she had if you counted such things in the clear amount that we had both written.

And then the dynamic shifted slightly. We were no longer a master and a student, a relationship that we both had with each other and something that swung both ways. Sometimes I was the master and she was the student, especially in matters making the work more approachable by the general public. But sometimes she was as well when we were talking about her own are aof expertise. And raw, academic work.

But then we were just two people, getting excited about doing something academic with each other and I could almost feel my excitement growing.

But then the strangest thing happened. I realised that I was beginning to feel good about what was happening here. That I was beinning to feel good and a wave of guilt swept over me and I burst into tears.

Yennefer didn't react. She just nodded and declared that we were done for the day.

It was on the second day of this that Emma and Laurelen came back. Also with several boxes and more trunks of clothing.

This time Emma was not in the main house long before she came out to see me. Apparently, her first visit was to Mark to check on how he was before she stomped through the rain to come and see me. I was working with Yennefer on some part of the work about Jack when Emma knocked on the door.

“You don't need to knock Lady Coulthard.” Yennefer called out. “I can hear a sister coming to swat an errant younger brother in line a mile away.” She sniffed. She was not agreeing with the new and damper air but was steadfastly refusing all attempts to suggest that she hould wrap up warmer, or take a cold remedy from Samantha.

Emma entered carefully. “Forgive me Lady Yennefer but your reputation precedes you.”

“Oh?” Yennefer didn't look up from a line that she was writing carefully. Correcting something from the proofs of the first edition that we had been sent by the Oxenfurt printers. “I would be positively delighted to know what reputation that would be.”

“That you suffer interruptions as well you suffer fools.”

Yennefer finished her sentence and tilted her head to one side as she considered this. “Not innacurate.” She decided after a while. Except in the case of what happens when dealing with a chore or series of chores that I hate. In this case, and I cannot emphasise this enough, I really hate editing. And you are no fool.”

“I am pleased to hear that you think so.” Emma moved a little bit further into the room.

“A fool could not run a merchant empire such as the one that you have overseen. Nor could you have, all but, raised your younger brother here to be the relatively decent scholar that he is. Room to improve mark you.”

“Always room for improvement.” Emma agreed as she sat down and began to relax.

“Hey,” I protested.

“But surely, Lady Coulthard....”

“Emma, please.”

Lady Yennefer paused as she considered this. “You might be comfortable with those familiarities this early in our relationship, Lady Coulthard. But I am not. Maybe, by the time you all travel to Toussaint we might have got there, but time will tell on that matter. I was going to say that you of all people know the value of a carefully cultivated reputation.”

Emma was taken aback. “Ummm. Alright. Yes, I do. But sometimes that reputation is deserved and a carefully constructed, but false, reputation can be mistaken for the real thing.”

“It can. But errors on the side of caution in those areas disprove the rule.” She gathered up some papers and put them in a leather satchel. “I shall go and work in the other rooms while the two of you talk.”

“There's really no need.” Emma said to Yennefer's retreating back. “Did I say something wrong?” She asked me.

“No?” I guessed. “With Lady Yennefer it's always difficult to say. If she was just an average scholar then I would say that she is in some kind of mental groove and is resisting being distracted from it.”

“But she's not an average scholar is she?”

“No, she is not. She is difficult but I think.... I think she has been wound so tight for so many years that now that pressure is no longer there she sometimes doesn't know how to react to certain things.”

“You like her don't you.”

“I do. I always know where I stand with her and...” I felt my mood crumple and the now ever-present tears at the back of my throat threatened to come back. “I value that rather a lot at the moment. Too much perhaps.”

“Well I love you Freddie. You can always depend on that.” She put her hand on my shoulder.

I took a deep and shuddering breath, forcing the tears back and this time I won the battle, swallowing the lump in my throat.

This time.

“I'm getting really fucking sick of this.” I complained when the moment passed.

Emma grunted in agreement and sympathy.

“Well,” She began, kind of straightening up. “I didn't come over here to interrupt your work. I wanted you to know that we are here. I have spoken to Mark and he wants to talk to you as your confessor before we talk together as a family.”

“Sounds serious.” I tried for a joke. “What's going on Emma?”

“Mark has made me promise...”

“Fuck that.” I felt a strange and unfair anger growing in my belly. “What's going on? If you don't tell me then I'm going to worry and get anxious and scared and...”

Emma sighed. “We need to talk about Francesca and what we're doing about this. What you're doing about Francesca really. We're worried about you Freddie and we want to talk about that. I promise that it's a talk, not a confrontation, but we also need to talk about the fact that Sam didn't want to come south for Yule as he had previously promised. We need your help on that as I....”

She blew out a breath. The kind of breath that I got the feeling had been long held in.

“I fucked up Freddie, I think I might have alienated Sam and I don't know what to do about it. Our family is under siege and we are breaking apart at the seams. You are one part of that, Mark's illness is another and Sam's....” She reddened for a moment in an anger that was all to recogniseable. Before it was her turn to swallow an irrational emotion.

“We need you back Freddie. We need you back and we need you to be your fully grown, charming, passionate, driven self. You are the only person that has ever been able to get through to Sam. I've read your articles and you claim that you are closest to me. Fair enough, but the member of the family that Sam is closest to is you. He's going to be Lord Coulthard soon and he won't let any of the rest of us help him with that.”

She took a deep breath.

“We need to talk about this and other matters and your wellbeing is not the least of our concerns. But Mark has made me promise that I will let him talk to you first in his capacity as your priest and confessor.”

I nodded. “Fair enough. But Emma. I won't stop doing what I'm doing.”

For the record. I had no idea what “it” was that I was refusing to stop doing.

“You might have to Freddie. For your own sake,”

She left. Looking back it was probably a good thing that she did otherwise the conversatation might have become even more emotional.

It was two days after that that Mark finally came. It was late. I had eaten my evening meal and was sat in my own cottage reading Lady Yennefer's latest iteration on a particular chapter of interdimensional magical Law. She called the term Metaphysics and I didn't like it. It was far too technical for my taste and I wanted and needed her to chill the hell out with it. It was our oldest argument. The simple, conversational style that I chaampioned, that would make it accessible to the average person, versus the cold, clinical, academic style that would appeal more to a very specific subset of people.

The truth was that both of us were right and both of us were wrong. And we both knew it and the problem was coming to be that we needed to find that happy middle ground. We called this a “Gateway book”. A book that people could read that would make them hunger for more information so that they would go off and study by themselves.

One of the earliest lessons that Kerrass ever taught me was that knowledge denies fear. And we were trying to show people the avenues that they needed to travel through in order to not be afraid any longer.

But Mark knocked on the door and came in to my appeal. He took off his rain cloak and hung it by the door before sneezing hugely. I was up, like a flash, pulling a blanket from nearby and wrapping him in it so that I could get him a hot drink.

“Dammit Mark,” I began. “I would have come to you.”

“Yes you would.” He admitted, “But that's not the point to this. I know you little brother and you are not there yet. You need some more time and there are things that you need to hear. Truths that you already know but I think that you need to be told them by an outside person in order to take them in.”

An image of a dark-haired Goddess rising naked above me and grinning, flashed in front of my eyes. It was like being punched in the gut. Not that it was a new sensation but it's one of those things that you never get used to. Never get to the point where you get rid of them completely.

I took a few deep breaths as I waited for everything to calm down, before I opened my eyes to find Mark watching me.

He was wearing a thicker, almost quilted version of his normal Cassock. A form of the thing that made me want to call it his “Cold weather gear.” I saw fur lined soft boots under the hem of the robe and I guessed that there were some thick, woolen undergarments going on under there as well. When he realised that I wasn't immediately going to burst into tears or do something foolish he reached into a bag that he he had tied to his belt and pulled out one of his Vestements. Only a lighter weight, a smaller, thinner version of the one that he normally wore.

“So I want to make it clear.” Mark began. “There is no getting away from the fact that I am your brother...”Then he produced a small bowl and a bottle of oil. “... But I want to stress that I am hear as your priest and confessor first and your brother second. The fact that I am also your liege comes, like...” he waved his hand as if to imply distance, “... a distant third.”

He poured the oil into the bowl and lit a taper from one of the lamps that I had burning in the hut.

“So there's that and I wanted it to be made clear.”

He lit the bowl with the taper and it caught fire with a small but perceptible Whomping noise.

“I also want it to be made clear that I haven't heard your confession in a number of years. Don't get me wrong,” he held his hand up before blowing out the taper and leaving it next to the flame. “Don't get me wrong, I know why. Physical distance is a factor,” He roved around the room blowing out my candles and lamps, creating the proper atmosphere for a confession to the Eternal Flame. “But also, I am aware that I haven't always been the best confessor to you. So I appreciate that, when you have made a confession, it has been to someone else under different circumstances.”

He slumped back into his seat.

“But are you content to talk with me if I admit to past mistakes? Especially when we were both younger.”

I nodded but that gesture didn't feel enough. “I can.”

“Good.” Mark sighed in exaggerated relief. “Then that's better. So... I'm not going to call you “My Son” or any of that stuff. Feels weird you know?”

I looked at him. The lack of formality in his voice was shocking. He caught me looking and grinned at me.

“You would really be astonished.” He winked slyly. “How much of the formal language is there so that the person giving the confession can be reminded as to who has the real power in the relationship. The higher up the church ladder you get. The less of the “My Son's” and “Thee's and Thous” there are. It's all about exerting dominance apparently.”

“You seemed to like that part of it as I recall.” I joked. I suppose I wanted to see how far I could push it.

“I did at that. There I was, confessor for the family with you, Emma, Sam and Frannie...” I checked, he only had a little wince as he said Francesca's name. “would come and confess your sins. Edmund only came once and he didn't perform the penance that I assigned.”

“Imagine my lack of surprise.” I commented dryly.

“Mother came surprisingly often actually, but I think Father was aware of the powerplays involved and insisted on making his confession to one of my tutors.”

“I can absolutely see that.” I said.

“But I am a bit more practised at this now.” Mark went on and I do this so rarely that you shouldn't think about the same kinds of things. So, you ready?”

I kind of squared my shoulders. “I am.”

“Then I will sit with you here in the shadows.” He began in the traditional starting prayer of confession.

“I will sit with you here in the shadows.Tell me of the darkness in your heart.Tell me of the blight that stains your soulTell me of the smoke that obscures your sightTell me of these things and I will be the light.I will be the guilding light that brings you out of the darknessInto the radiance of the Holy Flame.”

“So then.” He beamed happily. “What would you like to confess?” He sat back and twiddled his thumbs.

I stared at him in astonishment for a while

“Is that it? I wondered after a while.

“Were you expecting more?”

“I mean....” I searched for words. I had expected more. I had expected insults, I expected to be called a fool. I expected more pomp, ceremony.... I don't know. I had expected something.

“You read my notes right?” I demanded. “On what happened.”

“I did.” Mark reached back into his bag and produced a thick bundle of paperwork. “Fascinating stuff.”

“But....”

“I have to say though.” Mark overrode me. “That even if she was not a God, and if she was, then she is different from how we would perceive a Goddess. Even if she was a God and not just a woman with a great deal of power. Regardless of any of that, she played you excellently. Played you like a fiddle in fact.”

“I...” I didn't know how to answer that.

“Freddie, I love you. But there is one thing that you are hopeless with and that is women.”

“Says the priest.”

“Brother mine, I might not have much carnal experience.”

“Much?” I wondered with a raised eyebrow. Mark was keeping the tone light and I fed off that.

“A story for another time.” He grunted at me. “But what I do have, or rather what I did have for a long time was a steady stream of men coming through my confessional, who wanted to moan at me about the treatment that they had received at the hands of their women. Then, as well, I also had a steady stream of women who came through my booth who would complain all day about the inadequacies of their men folk. “I might not know how to seduce a woman into my bed. I might not be able to manipulate women but I do know a lot more about how women think than you might realise. And this one.” He gestured at the pile of papers. “Could not have played you better if she had literally tied bits of string to your limbs and physically moved you round the place.”

“I don't...”

“Freddie. She started off playful and normal. Thus distracting and disarming you from what you were expecting to happen. Then she got aggressive in her sexuality, getting your blood flowing to your other brain.” He gestured at my crotch. “Then when she had pushed you to the point where you almost flew from her, she turned all that off and almost made herself seem vulnerable. Building up your need to protect her and otherwise look after her. Then she got your blood pumping a different way and engaged that part of your primal brain. You were not thinking by the end. You reacted primally, and instinctively. You were putty in her hands.”

He stared at me for a long time, the flame dancing in his eyes.

“Were you foolish? Yes. Were you naive? Incredibly so. But Freddie, not a thing happened in that circle of fire, that she did not intend to happen. You were in her power the entire time and she played you brilliantly. Kerrass too for that matter. That's what you get for talking toa Goddess of Battle.”

He sniffed hugely and blew his nose on a handkerchief that he produced from somewhere.

“Look. This was fascinating reading. I don't know if this woman is a genuine Goddess. Whether she's an avatar of some, hereto unknown power, whether the physical manifestation of that power, possessed by a power or whether she is some kind of uncategorised entity from other worlds that came through at some point during one of the Conjunction of the spheres....”

He paused as his thought process caught up with him. “If I'm honest, I suspect the latter. Without talking to her directly, which I never want to do, I would suspect that she comes from a different plane of existence. Where there are little or no powers to speak of and beings like this wander around and are called Gods. She all but admits that this might be the case. But I digress.

“So let me ask you again Freddie. What do you wish to confess?”

I stared at him for a long time. I felt as though I had been punched in the face. “But I betrayed Ariadne.”

“Freddie, I love you, but you are only human. You were seduced. You were seduced by a woman who was better at seducing than you were at resisting. I don't know of course but I suspect that there might even have been magic involved. But you didn't have a choice in the matter. You automatically resisted the allure of the woman and in doing so, you challenged her. One of the few things to Kerrass' credit in all of this is that he did warn you of that. That he did so obliquely and without transparency is something that he will have to answer for. But he did try.

“That she saw that as a challenge is on her. That you deliberately looked away in the face of someone who must have been a devestatingly attractive woman, is a thing that you should be, at least a little, proud of. How many other men would have looked, had lustful thoughts and been dismissed by this woman as being the kind of bottom feeding scum that they are.”

“But I didn't resist Mark?”

“No. Nor could you. She could not have seduced you better if she had read a book on the subject. She couldn't have done better if she had literally had a written list of step by step instructions on how to get inside your pants. Just as, I suspect, she knew exactly how to provoke Kerrass in the same way. She knew how to win.”

He sighed. “Freddie, you were foolish. But you are an intelligent man. You and I both know that sometimes, what happens when you put attractive men together with attractive women and lock them in a room together with a load of alcohol, then something is going to happen. Some will resist, most of them even, but some will drink and then will wake up next to a partner and most will regret it. That's biology and entirely natural. The thing that makes us human is that we can choose not to be in that situation. That's what being in a committed relationship means. Remove the temptation.”

“How do you know all this?” I wondered.

“I have an outsiders view on humanity. Just as Kerrass has an outsider's view on what happens when monsters attack. But we're not talking about me here. We're talking about you. Here is why I don't think you should feel too guilty about what happened. You were in a situation that you did not control. Dealing with someone who knew how to control you. You were not in control of yourself. And you could not have gotten away from the situation. Your nature led you there but when you were actually there. There was nothing you could have done to stop it.”

“So I should feel no shame?” I wondered, appalled.

“No, I didn't say that. A little bit of shame, a little bit of guilt is good. It will teach you something. Just as a little bit of pain when you fall out of a tree as a child will teach caution. Think of it. Are you ever, ever going to let Kerrass, or anyone for that matter, take you somewhere where you don't know entirely what you're getting yourself in for?”

“No,” I admitted.

“You made a mistake Freddie. It happens, ensure that it will never happen again. Think about how you would do things differently if a similar situation comes up and then move on.”

“I'm not sure I can.”

“Sure you can. Think about it. If this was anyone else. If this had happened to me, or to Sam or Rickard or anyone else that you have met. I am looking forward to meeting this Helfdan the Black Boar that I hear so much about. But if he got into this mess. Would you be angry at him or would you give him a bit of a break?”

“But I hurt Ariadne.” I hollered in a voice that came alarmingly close to cracking.

“Yes you did.” He told me. “Yes you did. But you hurt her because you didn't talk about it. You hurt her because instead of coming here and talking about it, you tied yourself up into a knot and tried to... self-flagelate yourself by having some kind of masterbatory break up fantasy with her. That, too, was foolish, stupid and selfish. But also entirely human. That's the reason that she is not angry with you. You are being human Freddie and she does not blame you for being human.

“She knows that the reason, or one of the reasons that you are so upset with all of this is because you have held yourself to a higher standard. You will have to talk to her about this yourself, but I strongly suspect that she would not have been surprised or particularly upset if you had gotten drunk and allowed one of the Skelligan Shield-Maidens to have their way with you.

“That will change after you're married of course. Then her wrath will know no bounds if you indulge in infidelity. Unless you found yourself in a situation that you could not control. She is just as aware of human nature and human biology as I am. If not more so.

“From my view, you need to learn that Ariadne is not made of paper. She has seen and done far more shocking things than you can imagine and she will not weep too hard if you make a mistake and then take steps to fix it. She will get angry if you make a mistake more than once and do nothing to address the lapse in judgement however. But again, you must take that up with her.”

I nodded and looked away. I sensed, from somewhere, the Mark was watching me carefully.

“Let me ask you something Freddie. Did you ever expect differently? Did you ever expect that she wasn't going to forgive you?”

“Yes.... No.... I don't know.” I wailed.

Mark nodded. “And therin lies the problem. You didn't think.”

I found some anger. “If this is going to be one of Father's lectures about thinking things through then I'm going to punch you in the face.”

Mark sighed, my anger washing around him, like water round a stone. “Freddie, give me some credit. I've been doing this a long time now. I know why you didn't think. You didn't have the capacity to think. You were too busy tearing yourself apart to think.”

“What are you saying?” I wondered.

Mark peered at me again for a while. “We will get to that point I think. But not yet. Let's just.... return to an earlier question. What do you have to confess?”

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“I...” I ran out of words.

Mark let the silence hang for a while before he took matters up again.

“We have dismissed your mistake with this Goddess. This Morrigan or whatever her name was. That was a mistake, do better next time. That is the answer to that little riddle. We have addressed the matter with your treatment of the woman that you love. That too was a mistake but I don't think you were entirely in control of your actions there. I think you were trapped. I think you were driven to that point and that you had nowhere else to go. No other place to be other than to do the last thing that you were “supposed” to do in that situation.

“If there had not been other people there to catch you, I wonder what you would have done. I dread to think what you might have done in order to exorcise your guilt.”

I had nothing to say to that. I felt adrift on a sea of blackness and confusion.

“So again Freddie, let us return to the question at the root of what is going on here. What do you wish to confess?”

“I can't think of anythin...”

“Freddie.” Mark said carefully. “This is one of those times. I am a good priest. Whatever else you might think of me, I am a good priest and I know that there is something else going on there. If you were any other man, or if I was even a slightly worse priest than I actually am, I would bless you for the things that you have already said, give you some kind of penance that is based on money and prayer so that you can go back into the world and get on with seeing the next supplicant. What do you feel guilty about? What do you need to confess?”

“The way I talked about you, the way I talked about Emma....”

“Yes, I know. I tormented you and none of us stood up for you when we could have defended you from Father's wrath. That hurt you. I know it. Emma knows it and deals with her own guilt for all of that in her own way. But she and I can both see and understand that the person that was angry there was Freddie as a child. That you were eleven or twelve when you felt those things and all that this woman, this..... This Goddess did was to rake those feelings out for her own purposes. That is nothing to feel guilty about.

“It's the kind of thing that you take out, talk over and discuss with us. Then we all have a little cry as a family and swear undying oaths to each other that we will never, ever, ever again allow anything to come between us and then we move on. We'll talk about all of that and more, as well as all the childish things that you did or didn't do to help us when we, and you, were young. What do you feel guilty about?”

He seemed to be passionate about it. He seemed to be angry, frustrated. During this speech I had been getting more and more upset, tears sat on the edge of my vision unsaid. Every word that Mark was saying was like a dagger being thrust into my flesh.

“I don't know Mark.”

“Oh come on.” He began another diatribe.

“No, fuck you Mark. I don't know why. Everything you said is true. Everything. I know that I made a mistake, several of them in fact. My life seems to have been a series of them, one after another that people need to rescue me from. First Emma, then some friends at the university. Now Kerrass. Then, possibly even Ariadne when this is all over. But if that was a simple thing, and my hurting of Ariadne was another mistake that I was driven to then why do I feel so Flame-damned awful?”

“What do you want to confess?”

“I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I DON'T KNOW.” I screamed. Mark shot out of his chair and paced in agitation.

“I don't know Mark alright.” I howled, the tears falling freely down my face. “I'm sick of it. Sick of feeling like this. I'm on the verge of tears all the damn time and anything can set me off. I went to see my horse the other day and I'm stood in the stall, tears streaming down my face and I have no idea why. I try and find a piece of work to do in the stables and I can barely stand for the sobbing.”

“What do you want to confess?

“I train with my spear. I sharpen and care for my weapons and there having to do it multiple times because my tears are essentially salt water and they need cleaning and scouring from the metal.”

“What do you want to confess?” Mark's voice was getting quieter

“I think of Ariadne and every single time I catch sight of her in the field, or see her a bit closer I want to run towards her. I want to take her in my arms and love her and cherish her and do all of the things that I'm supposed to do according to the holy Oaths as well as a few things that a good Flame-fearing man should not and it feels like I'm being punched in the gut and the tears leap forward and I can't control them. Fuck I even wept the other day when Yennefer told me that my penmanship is particularly good. Flame but I want this to be over. I want to get back to normal so badly that it hurts. Why does it hurt Mark? Why does it hurt?”

Mark stood over me then, the flame from the oil made his face look shadowy and sinister.

“What do you want to confess?” he intoned.

“I don't know.”

“What do you want to confess?” He repeated.

“I don't know.”

“What do you want to....”

“I'VE FAILED.”

I don't know where the scream came from. It was this wrenching, howling thing. It hurt my throat and later I would cough and there would be small spots of blood that terrified me until Samantha looked down my mouth and found where I had torn and strained my throat.

But that scream was torn from me as though it was some kind of parasite that had been feeding on my innards for a long time and Mark was a doctor that had plunged his hand into my chest and torn it free.

“I've failed.” I whispered hoarsely afterwards.

“Why? What have you failed at Freddie?” Mark asked quietly and gently. His mood changing.

“I have not found Francesca. I promised you all that I would. I promised myself.... I promised her that I would find Francesca. I promised. I swore that I would do this and I failed. I've travelled up and down the continent. I've nearly died numerous times. I've done damage to myself, my body and my mind from which doctors and people that I respect have warned me that I may never recover and I have still not found her.”

Mark had sat back down in his seat. He looked calm. From this place of writing, several days after these events, I wonder if he had guessed at what had happened and that his priestly anger and his frustration had been a front.

“I've looked everywhere Mark.” I told him. “I've done everything and I don't know where else to look. I don't know.... I just don't know.... Flame. I've talked to Unicorns, Goddesses, otherworldly beings and Cultists. I've written to all the friends that I've made over all this time and no-one knows anything. I keep being told cryptic nonsense and annoying.... Flame curse me for a flame-damned fucking fool but I just can't find her. I feel as though she's right under my nose. As though she's just out of reach. Just out of sight. The next mission, the next quest, the next monster that Kerrass hunts will give me what I want to know. But I still can't find her. Why can't I find her Mark?”

I shook my head and a swiped at the falling tears angrily. Keeping hold of my pain with both hands as I held onto that well of feeling that Mark had unearthed with both hands.

Mark watched me for a long moment.

“Why, oh why.” He began slowly. “Why was it your responsibility to find her?”

I stared at him appalled.

Mark stared back at me calmly for a long time. He waited until I was about to open my mouth again and then it was as though he was a Golem or a Gargoyle that suddenly came alive.

“Seriously though.” He began. “That question has come in two parts. The first is the obvious argument that was made back in Toussaint at the beginning of the year. The one that will probably make you angry, even though that quality doesn't make it any the less true.

“We live in an Empire. Francesca was a close friend and confidant of the Empress. That means that the full might of the Imperial special services have come to bear on the matter. Not just part of it. Not part of it allowing for their normal proceedings. But the full might of everything that Lord-General Voorhis can bring to bear on the matter. Why? Because, correctly and you know it, they have to assume that an attack on one of the Empress' women is an attack on her being. It's a plot against the Empress herself so they have to take it seriously. They don't have a choice.”

He paused and laughed a little.

“It's almost ironic that we're back here as I try and talk you through all of this. When you freed Ariadne from her captivity you made a similar case for her to stand down. What worked on her might work on you. I might be paraphrasing your words as it is a while since I last read that particular chapter but....

“The Empress has four armies as well as two more armies of reserves that can be raised with relatively short notice. Now one of those armies is coordinating the invasions of Cidaris and Vergen but that is still three armies that are searching the continent, and beyond, for any sign of Francesca that can be found.

“The Imperial Intelligence service is possibly going to end up being the most lasting legacy of Emperor Emhyr. It is the thing that will out last anything. For a lifetime of acheivement including recovering his father's throne and conquering the North. He set up an Intelligence Service that has caught several plots against him, his daughter and numberous other factors. And has then removed, not only those particular enemies, but how many other enemies besides. Why is Emhyr so terrifying? It's not the armies that scare children to sleep at night in different parts of the continent. It's the Intelligence Service.

“Then there are the Questing Knights Errant. We haven't talked to you about our trip to Toussaint yet but when all of this is over, we are going to Toussaint. But even then, there are numerous of those knights that travel up and down the continent, tearing it apart and looking for Francesca. They see it as their great failure. Because it is, and they seek to expunge that failure from their record. I've seen those men at work Freddie, there are few people that are better swordsmen than the Knight's Errant and we will get to them next. The Knight's Errant might have fallen from Grace, but you yourself said that they would be sent out into the world to take down Bandit Enclaves. By themselves. And they would win.

“The Lodge of Sorceresses. I can remember, even if you can't, that Ariadne joined the Lodge of Sorceresses to aid in their efforts to find Francesca. Joined by a fucking Dragon I understand. I can even go so far as to say that the two Sorceresses on that council that have the most to dislike in each other, Madame Yennefer and Madame Eilhart agree that Francesca must be found. Even for the political victory they have a powerful incentive to do something about this.

“And then there are the Witchers. Many of whom can remember the night that someone summoned an aspect of the “Jack” entity and used it to attack common folk. It is the biggest contract that has ever been seen since Geralt of Rivia was hired by the Emperor to find his missing daughter.

“So all of these people, More powerful than you, more skilled than you, more numerous than you have set out to find our sister. So why do you feel that you have something extra to contribute?”

“But they have all failed.” I protested.

“Yes they have. And that's precisely the point. They have failed and if all of those people have failed, why are you giving yourself a particularly hard time over that self-same failure. Do you blame Lady Eilhart for not being able to find our sister?”

I considered the question.

“Do you blame Lord Voorhis for not figuring it out?”

I realised that I didn't have an answer.

“Of course you don't. You are angry certainly, but you are conscious and logical enough to be able to see that the person to blame for the loss of our sister is the fuck-nut that took her in the first place. So why are you giving yourself such a hard time over it?”

He was right and I knew it. But I couldn't accept it. Despite the fact that I knew he was right, there was just part of my mind that was shying away from the truth. I knew it to be true but I couldn't take it in. It was more than I could handle. It was like... If the truth was a stone that I hurled at the mountain that was my mind. I wanted the stone to shatter the mountain but, obviously, it wouldn't do that. It would just skitter away.

Mark sighed and moved back to where the pot of tea was brewing over the fire. He poured us both measures of the strong, invigorating drink as he spoke.

“I know the answer to this particular part of things of course.” He reached for the honey pot. I noticed that I got double the normal amount of honey that I would normally have in my tea. “The answer is that you are arrogant.” He grinned as he said it.

“What?” The joke startled me out of my spiral of thought.

“Oh don't get me wrong, I love you for it and I recognise that same kind of arrogance in myself. It is a symptom of being a young man. Of believing that we know something that everyone else doesn't. That we are more important that everyone else and the belief that the world revolves around us. It is the same arrogance that makes a young man believe that they are immortal.”

He sat down with a sigh and pushed my drink over to me.

“You are not to blame for this feeling. Even though I hope that you realise just how wrong you are when you think it. But it is also one of those things that happens when you are brought up as the son of a nobleman. In this area Father did alright by us. Not brilliantly,” he held his hand up to forestall any kind of protest. “But alright. Over and over again he insisted that he had worked hard to get us to this point and that we should absolutely continue to work just as hard to further anything else. He made us understand that this was not automatic. That we didn't deserve it. I rather think that he learned from the mistakes that he made with Edmund in this particular case.”

He sniffed. Of all of us, Mark has the most complicated feelings about his big brother.

“But that doesn't change the fact that you are arrogant, partly from your education, partly from your personal wealth and your social standing.” He watched me carefully. “Also the fact that you are a skilled fighter which is something new to some of us. That you have killed and can defend yourself. Also made arrogant by your knowledge and experience in the world. What it boils down to is that these things have conspired to make you think that you have a unique view-point and that therefore, you are better equipped to find Francesca than anyone else. Am I wrong?”

He wasn't wrong. It was more complicated than that and I could tell that he knew that too.

“But here's the thing Freddie. You might have skills, you might have a unique perspective on things. But so does everyone else out there. You know that too. So I rather suspect that there is something else going on here. Which leads to my second point on the matter of this question.

“Why do you feel the need to take all of this on yourself. Not you as in the extra agent, or the man with the extra friends and credentials. But why do you feel as though you have to do this. Why are you responsible over and above everyone else?”

“I don't....”

“Ok. Let me rephrase it a little. Why are you responsible? When did you become responsible for all of this stuff. When did you need to take all of this over?”

We sat in silence for a while as I rolled the implications of what he was asking me around in my head. “I'm sorry Mark I still don't....”

“Ok look. Do you know what you remind me of? You remind me of a martyr. One of the good old fashioned religious ones. You go around trying desperately to take responsibility for everything. You get up from your sick bed before you should. You push yourself further and harder than anyone thinks that you should. You take on more than you should and everything seems to rest on your shoulders. Everything seems to rest on your shoulders.

“You carry the weight of so much on your own back. So much. You can find it in your articles that have been published. Admittedly you need to know what you're looking for and you need to know a bit more about you but to those of us that love you, it is plain to see that it is there. It was a thing even before Francesca was taken.

“You took it upon yourself to get in the way of an angry Vampire and the rest of the world. You took it upon yourself to carry a heart-broken Witcher through Northern Redania. Twice. Both times suffering more abuse and hurt than any reasonable human being would have put up with. I don't know anyone. Anyone at all that woulld have put up with what you went through at Kaer Morhen at the hands of the Kingslayer and then put up with a demented Kerrass while he went to pieces.”

“He needed my help.”

“But who was helping you Freddie? You had been tortured. I was prouder of you than I have ever been when I read that series on the abuses that young Witchers suffered at the hands of their peers. You took an awful experience and turned it into one of the most educational pieces of writing that we have on the subject of Witchers. But that must have been awful for you.

“And then Kerrass does his best to fall apart. You carried him Freddie. You saved his life. How many people would have put up with that. How many?”

“He was my friend and he needed help.”

“But why you Freddie?”

I looked up at him and we said it in unison. “Because there was no-one else.”

“And in that particular case, you were right.” He agreed. “There was no-one else at the time. But later? There have been plenty of people out there. Someone was going to bring Sansum and his ilk to task. Not to the extent that you did but someone would have done that. Someone would have routed the Cult of the First-born and found out whether or not they had any connection to Francesca's disappearance and they would have done so without you having to put yourself in harm's way.

“If I don't do these things. Who will?” I wondered. “If I hadn't stood in front of Ariadne that day. Who would have done it? Kerrass? If I hadn't been there, he would never have been caught in Dorme's trap. If I hadn't stepped up, then we would still have been harbouring a murderer in our family and we wouldn't have known about the activities of the cult around Oxenfurt. If I hadn't have stepped up, we wouldn't have known for certain that Jack was not involved in Frannie's disappearance. If I....”

“If.... Freddie. If.”

Mark sat back.

“You have taken all of this extra guilt onto yourself. Extra responsibility. It is your responsibility to find Francesca. It is your responsibility to care for Kerrass, even when he doesn't want or need the care. It is your responsibility to right the wrongs that you come across and put yourself in harm's way. That is noble of you. But a man can only take so much before they crack.”

“People have seen much worse than I have and come out alright?”

“Have they though?” Mark wondered. “Here are some of the things that I know about from your own writings that I have had access to. You started off your journey by watching a Witcher consume his potions. Starting off with a bang you might even say. After that, it is rare that there hasn't been some kind of violence in your life. But we will start with the village of the Nekkers. Your first adventure. You nearly got hanged there Freddie, hanged for turning up and trying to help.”

“Yes but...”

“And even allowing for that you saved a life and saw a child killed before your eyes in what must have been a truly horrible fashion. From there, and again, this is just what I know about. You were confronted, brutally, with the truth that being a lady and a lauded light does not fill you with virtue. You saw the pain and hardship in another's eyes. You actually got away relatively lightly with that one.

“But after that, you start to have all of your preconceived notions challenged. You made friends with a Doppler, slept with a Succubus and flame knows what else. You killed your first man. You killed several men from what I heard. You started to have your eyes opened to all of the horror and the brutality that people do to each other over the course of things.

“And then you went to Amber's Crossing. If you had been shown all the evils that men can do to each other, then that was the first time that you really saw what waits for us all in the darkness. You saw what's really out there. You learned that there are things in the darkness that cannot be swatted with a spear or even a Witcher's sword. You learned that there are some things that you just can't fight. And no-one would have blamed you if you had turned and run from that place. As I recall from the chapters on the subject, Kerrass even encouraged you to do that. Shortly before he kept the plan from you for the first time. A time which nearly drove you to madness.

“I might be dwelling on that a lot but according to your own account, you were tortured on a fundamental level by something which genuinely deserves the title of “Demon”. How long did it take you to recover from that Freddie? I know the answer because I'm not stupid, but how long did it take you to recover from that?”

“Physically a couple of weeks.”

“Don't patronise me Freddie. This is not the first time I've had a conversation like this. You and I both know that you still have nightmares about that time. You and I both know that you had one not less than a week ago when we were staying in that village after the wedding and you woke up screaming.”

He was not wrong. The village had backed onto a small copse of trees that the villagers kept pigs in. The wind had been blowing that night and the branches had been tapping on the shutters of my hut.

“So what's the answer? How long did it take you to recover from that time with the Demon of Amber's Crossing?”

“It wasn't a Demon.” I tried.

“Don't toy with me Freddie and don't dodge the question.”

“I'm still not recovered.” I admitted.

“Quite right. It is still that and some of the things that that being showed you that gives you the fear of Ariadne isn't it.”

I nodded.

“So from there you travel a bit more and you meet Ariadne. A meeting during which you were poisoned and nearly died. Only being saved from serious and permanent damage, let alone your death, by being bitten by giant Spiders and magical healing. How close were you to death then Freddie?”

I didn't answer for a long time. “Hours.” I admitted eventually. “Ariadne once reckoned that if she hadn't gotten to me then I would have been past the point that an antidote or her Spider's venom could have saved me in about half an hour. After that, if the Priestess hadn't directed Ariadne on how to heal me, my heart and Kidneys would have failed in a day or so.”

Mark was shaken by that. He hid it quickly but I knew him better than that.

“Hours from death Freddie. And that was not the worse that you've been. Looking back over your adventures. How often have you been left being ill, being injured or being otherwise horrified by what you've seen. How many monster's has Kerrass killed while you have been in attendance, how many lives have you saved. How many lives have you ended.”

He sighed and took a deep breath. “I'm sorry.” He said after a while. “I am trying to be your priest here and sometimes, the fact that I am also your brother is interfering with that. My point is that you've been through a lot. I've spoken to the same soldiers that you have. They all agree that the life of a soldier is long periods of routine followed by occasional and sudden periods of intense stress, fear, rage and anger followed by another, much longer, period of routine and training.

“You can counter with the fact that Witchers go through more, as do questing knight's Errant that are righting wrongs. Knightly Orders like what the Flaming rose was meant to be. And there are other orders that try and do that, even while the bigger ones like Flaming Rose and Sansum's Wretches turn towards villainy and politics. You could argue that. But I would argue that they are trained in how to deal with seeing those things. In some cases, especially in the cases of what was done to the Witchers, they have been trained to the expense of themselves. Something else I learned from your writing. And also, that they rarely travel alone.

“Then you could argue that mercenaries go through worse. They can but they retire. Or poor folk... and they can and often do. Then they go mad or get sick, or get injured. And then they die. And that is what I am worried about happening to you.”

I looked up at him sharply.

“I can prove it too. There was a time there where every time you published a series of articles on this or that, there was a period after whatever it was that took place where you needed to spend some time in a quiet room being looked after.

“You've even said so yourself. You don't trust priests any more. You like individuals, you trust Jerome, me and I think that that Bishop has grown on you. But Sansum or whatever the fuck his name was has ruined you for us. Even when men like Trent, Danzig and the rest come into your life, you resist their influence on you.

“You've tried to drive Ariadne away on several occasions by my count. A couple of times you did so accidentally, this time you have done so deliberately. And when this is all over you are going to buy her some flowers and some sweetmeats and whatever else she might want.

“I don't know, do Vampires like cuddly toys?” He wondered before refocusing.

“But you've done all of that because you were once shown the sinister vision of a dark and magical woman by a creature.

“You don't trust your family any more because people have told you that someone close to you will betray you and because Edmund turned out to be a heretic deviant. Of course we have betrayed you. It happens all the time. Sam drove you and the people that saved you out of the castle. Kerrass took you to see his Goddess without proper warnings. We betray each other all the time, it was one of the things about this Goddess' words that I liked and agreed with her about. We always hurt each other.

“But that distrust means that you don't trust us to help you when the time comes and you need to be helped. And you need to be helped now Freddie.”

He sighed and peered into his cup. “Flame but I would kill for a beer.” He stomped over to get another cup of tea. He didn't offer me another one as I hadn't drunk the first one.

“What with Mark?” I asked automatically. I was disoncerted by how close to home some of those comments of his were. Trust did come harder to me now. I was closing myself off from people. The only person that had been immune from that to date was Kerrass.

And then Kerrass had taken me to see the Goddess without telling me what the risks were. And thus, he had forced me to go against my own moral choices and now.... How much had I been pushing him away? Was our estrangement my fault?

I felt the tears again as the thoughts scuttled across my mind. Mark sat back and watched it all happen.Had I set out to sabotage my relationship with Ariadne? Had I deliberately done all of those things because I was afraid of the implications from Amber's Crossing?

Had I turned away from my family, learnt to distrust them because of Edmund? Because of what Sam had done to Chireadean and the other Elves in Northern Redania.

All of these thoughts shot across my mind as I thought. It was like being flogged by a whip with multiple tails. Each tail being another question.

“All of those thoughts are true to a certain extent.” Mark told me after a while. “Don't think about them too hard or they will drive you mad though. What are you thinking about?”

“Don't you know?” I wondered. “You seem to have read my mind easily enough with all of the other things that you have been saying.”

“That's just experience.” He told me as he sat back down. “And, because I'm your brother, I know you better than most. You are questioning your existence and behaviours at the moment. You are trying to figure out how much of it you did consciously, how much of it is true and how much of it is me being unfair. That stuff can take days, or even weeks to unravel so don't force yourself through it.”

He sighed and rubbed his brow. I began to get a feeling of just how tired he was again. Then his hand dropped.

“What were you thinking about?” He asked. “Be honest now.”

“I was wondering if it was my fault that Kerrass and I have grown apart. I was wondering how much of it was my fault that Sam is becoming estranged from the family and I was wondering if it was my fault that I have hurt Ariadne so much.”

“Ah,” Mark nodded sagely but also slightly mockingly. “Self-loathing. I should have recognised it. The answer is.... yes. At least partially. Kerrass? I don't know enough about what was happening there but in that regard, I would suggest that it takes two people to break up a partnership. And he does have some things to answer for in all of that. Sam? Sam is going through some things at the moment. Ariadne? That is a conversation that you will have to have with her. Just remember that when you do so, she is not a human woman and you cannot equate what we think and feel with what she thinks and feels. But overall? It is not that simple. Some of these problems arose because you have been pushing us all away. While other problems have occurred because we didn't see the danger and take steps to help you. I include Kerrass in that regard. I do think it would be a shame if the two of you parted ways here though.”

I nodded, finding that I agreed with that.

“So you also asked what you needed our help with?” Mark sighed and stretched. “Getting old Freddie.” He moaned. “Not used to sitting in cold huts talking to stubborn brothers.”

I grinned despite myself.

“Let me ask you another question first.” Mark said. “How much longer do you think you can survive if you keep moving forward the way you are doing at the moment?”

“You think I should stop travelling with Kerrass?”

“That's not what I asked. Although it's interesting to me that that is the first thing that has come to your mind. Do you want to stop travelling with Kerrass? I am not the only one that has noticed that your published articles are becoming less and less about Witchers and Kerrass as a whole and rather about the people and places that you go and meet. Including you as I recall. So, do you want to stop travelling with Kerrass?”

I considered the question. “Not like this.” I decided. “I wanted to stop in the North. I remember being so angry with the Hounds of Kreve and the people that we would later find out were involved with the Cult of the First-born. I probably should have stopped then. But then I would not have met Helfdan and the crew of the Wave-Serpent. I would not have met Samantha and helped with that village. I would possibly have not even ensured the destruction of the cult of the First-Born.”

Mark nodded. “You are afraid to stop now. You want to stop but you are worried about what's going to happen when you do stop.”

“Yes. That's it. I kind of wanted to go out on a bang you know. We've failed everything for a year and now...”I shook my head.

“You have not failed everything for a year Freddie. Who told you that?” It was Mark's turn to be appalled. “You put down a perversion of church knighthood. You helped end a cult and brought to light the darkest heresy that the north has seen since people started worshipping the Lion-head.”

We both made the sign of the flame over our hearts.

“You ended a thousand year old curse. Literally a millenium old curse and saved a village from killing itself. Because I read those articles too and you stopped those villagers attacking a Witcher and a Unicorn. An action that would have ended fatally for that village. You did not find Francesca's ki.... kidnappers. But that is not a failure that you can recriminate yourself for. You have nearly killed yourself to do that and you are not alone in your efforts.”

He peered at me carefully. Presumably to guage whether I had caught the fact that he had nearly said Francesca's Killers rather than Kidnappers.

“Who told you that you have failed Freddie? Point them out to me and I will end them for you. I will raise up an army. I will speak to the Empress and we will chain them over hot coals for you. You have not failed this year. You have accomplished extraordinary things. Extraordinary, amazing things. Do not forget that.”

His words fell into the silence with a thump.

“So how do you help me?” I wondered.

“I dunno. How do you want us to help you?” He grinned. “You can't keep going the way you are doing. You will get yourself killed or drive everyone away till you're by yourself, and then get yourself killed. Do you agree with me on that?”

I nodded.

“So you need a route forward?”

I nodded again.

“That I can help with.” Mark grinned. It was not a nice grin. It reminded me of the grin of a headsman, just before he executes a child murderer.

“Did you know,” Mark began, settling himself back in the chair. “That you have founded a movement?”

“A what now?”

Mark did not stop grinning.

“You have started a movement of people. Not entirely successful people but there are a growing number of them nonetheless. People see you and all that you have accomplished and they have set out to emulate you.”

I was horrified. “What an awful thought. Why, in the name of the flame would they want to do that?”

“I think that the question has a better answer of “Why has it not happened before now?” Think about it Freddie. Your journey has made you famous. It has grown the families reputation, wealth and standing to incredible amounts. To a degree where it is becoming likely that you will need to stop before people start uniting against us in case we start wanting to bring down the Empire.

“Indeed, Emma once commented to me that it's a good job that we are so firmly tied into the Empress and her good graces because otherwise we would have been ordered dissolved a long time ago, precisely for this reason.

“You are on first name terms with the Empress, a significant chunk of the Lodge of Sorceresses, the head of Imperial Intelligence and numerous other people. You know the High-Sherriff of Redania, the Queen of Skellige as well as her Jarls and numerous others as well.

“You are in love with, and engaged to be married to, an astonishingly beautiful Vampire woman who is going to remain looking that young and beautiful for the rest of your life. And, much to my astonishment, she loves you back.

“On a personal level, when you marry her you will take on the title of Count as a result. Even our enemies, which Emma assures me are still out there, cannot deny you that as they continue to deny Sam the same kinds of titles. You are a Professor of the Oxenfurt academy at a time when they are competing with Ban Ard over who has the biggest and most powerful centre of learning open to non-magical people in the Continent. You have written several books on the history of various places, Witchers both as a collection of your articles as well as the clinical and scholarly work on the subject. And you have other books coming out.

“And everywhere you go. Literally, everywhere you go. You make friends, bringing your family more prestige and often more money. For example, you met Samantha, the inestimable herb woman who's healing draughts have already made me feel better than I have in months. She comes with her sister who is now Ariadne's cook. It's simple fare but it's better cooked simple fare than I have eaten in all but the palaces of the really rich and famous people who's tastes go in that direction. And she is learning new recipes every day.

“I understand that you have secured trade rights with Skellige, you have acted as first contact between the siege engineers of Temeria and the Skelligans who are rebuilding a keep. An act which, Emma tells me, means that as a family we are being credited with a huge increase in Temeria's economy. And our ships travel trading routes that have not been travelled in years.

“To an outside observer, your life is a blessed one.”

I could not meet his gaze.

“To an outside observer maybe.” I muttered. “They should try living it.”

“That is the point.” He told me. “They are trying to live it. It is a new profession for younger sons. They go travelling, trying to find things to write about, wrongs to correct, curses to lift, famous people to chronicle and write about. They're trying to help villagers and farmers and things whether that help is wanted or not.”

“Doesn't sound too negative.” I commented.

“Ah, but they are missing something. Many of them are younger sons. Their parents are still filling out the “One for the land, one for the church and one for the military.” pattern. But they still have spares occasionally or have a child that is so namifestly unsuited to one of those roles and then they are sent out to follow the “Freddie Coulthard” path. Or parents are seeing the things that you are doing for your family and are sending out their children in an effort to do the same. Or kids are tired of the arranged marriages that they are being sent to and saying, “Maybe I could go out, become a famous scholar and find a Vampire woman to love?” You would be astonished at just how many people are dying because they go into the hills to find a vampire like Ariadne.”

“There are a lot of dead cretins I assume.”

“Yes. They do not understand that the danger in going to look for monsters is that sometimes, you find them.”

“Ariadne is not a monster.”

“Not to you she is not. Nor to me for that matter, but many still hear the term “monster” and leap to their own conclusions. But people are trying to emulate you and your path. And they are doing so without all of your advantages. They don't have a friendly Witcher to follow around and guide them. They don't have a fore-knowledge on how some of these things work. They are not as “good” as you. When they try and help villagers and farmers, they are condescending and expect gratitude for clearing even the low bar of being vaguely polite to the village folk. They are going to Skelligans and expecting to be respected before realising that Helfdan and his crew were special...”

“I would say unique,” I commented.

“And I would agree. They are arrogant, They do not understand that you came across all of these things by accident. You did not fall into Ariadne's bed chamber because you wanted to be there. You were forced in at the point of a sword. That Ariadne didn't fall in love with you because of your rank, wealth or title. But because you stood up to her in order to save your, and her, life. That you weren't there looking for a forever young and beautiful lover, that you were just looking to survive.

“They don't understand that all of your progress has been due to equal hardship and pain and suffering. They don't understand that your wealth, prestige and.... knowledge has been bought with horror to be endured. They think that they can get the good, without the bad. And then, when these people die at the fangs of some Bruxa or Ekkimora, they are surprised and say, “But Freddie got Ariadne to love him.”

“When they walk into the dark and sinister woods to document what's there. They are surprised when the Leshen is angry at their intrusion and summons a flock of crows to peck out their eyes. They don't understand how hard it is.

“Answer me another question here Freddie before I ask you to do something, before I give you your penance if you prefer to think of it that way. You have started to paint over all the times that you get sick haven't you. Or you've started to underplay it. That time that you got sick when sailing from the mainland over to Skellige, you got really sick then didn't you.”

“Yes I did.” I admitted. “Sea sickness was only part of it, but I got really sick and no-one could figure out why. I don't get motion sick, they don't know whether I ate something bad or whatever but I was really sick then.”

“How sick? Tell me now.”

“Mark, at one point there was a conversation as to whether or not they should send for you, Emma, Ariadne and Sam.”

Mark sat back. I think he was shocked but he had expected the answer.

“The cold on Skellige. Apparently you walk differently now. What happened about the cold?”

“You know these answers don't you?”

“Yes. But I want you to admit them.”

“I lost two of my toes to Frostbight on my right foot.” I finally admitted. There was a hole in my boot after that last fight and with the numbness of after battle come-down, I didn't realise that that pain was different from the other pain that I was feeling. It wasn't until I peeled the boot free at the inn that we stayed at that we realised that I had been frost-bitten.”

Mark nodded. “You were sick again after it all though weren't you.”

“Yes. I have nightmares about the battle on the beach. I have nightmares about how good that axe felt in my hands and I have nightmares about what would happen if I hadn't been able to stop. More nightmares to add to all of the other nightmares that are already floating around my head.”

“I've seen some of your scars Freddie. I've heard about some of the others. I know that you have pushed yourself and pushed yourself. I know that you have gone to the very point of madness and even beyond it on occasion. I know that the only reason that you are still alive is due to the magic of people that have cared about you. I know that Kerrass pulled you out of a forest of madness and I know that it took a month to properly heal you from that to a point where you could function as a human being. I know that you wake up nights screaming and I know that you are now afraid of the very people that might help you.”

“Priests, friends, family...” I said for him. I didn't want to listen to another list of people that I had hurt.

Mark looked at me flatly. “And Ariadne.” He said. “Never forget that Freddie. You are afraid of her too. You talk about that less now.... I guess because you feel as though you should have gotten over it. But you are still terrified of her aren't you?”

“You keep asking me these questions.” I realised that I was angry. “And you know the answer.”

“I do. But I want you to hear the words. You are afraid of me. You are afraid of Emma and what we're going to say to you soon. But you're afraid of the two people that you are closest with. Ariadne and Kerrass. You have been driven part of the way to that point by circumstance and events, but you have taken yourself the rest of the way.”

There was another pause as he allowed those words to bounce around my skull.

“Why did you stop writing about your injuries and your illnesses?” He asked.

“I don't know.” I answered promptly. “I suppose I thought it was going over a problem that I had already talked about. I thought it would come across as self-pitying. The amount of mail I got, comments shouted at me in the street that told me that I should just get over my fear and plough the Vampire. I could hear the same voice goading me. That I should get over it. That I should be better.”

“You said it was one voice you heard.”

“What?”

“You said it was one voice that you heard goading you. “The same voice” you said.”

I stared at him in horror as I realised where he was going with this.

“Who's voice is it that you hear? Who's voice is that you hear telling you to get over the fear. To plough the wench, to get over the illness and to move past the horror that you have seen. Horror that many others, including me I think, would have broken under. Who do you hear?”

“I don't know.” I lied.

“Come on Freddie, you can do better than that. Who is it? Is it me?”

“No.”

“Is it Sam?”

I shook my head.

He asked me some other names, childhood bullies and the like. Names that I am protecting, but it was none of them.

“Is it Edmund?” He asked towards the end. The tears running down my face and I shook my head.

He nodded, he had already known the answer to this as well.

“Is it Father?” He wondered. Although the question was rhetorical.

And I sobbed, only to feel a brother's arms around me.

To say that I wept is an understatement. I howled for a long time.

When we finally pulled apart, I saw tears on Mark's face too.

“Ah Freddie,” he heard the catch in his own voice. “Ah Freddie, we have so much to talk about.”

I nodded. Mutely. “How did you know?” I asked as I realised that, in talking to me, some of Mark's old scars had been torn open as well.

Mark laughed bitterly. “Do you think you are the only son who is still trying to please a dead man?” He took a cloth and wiped at his eyes. “I have a little over a year to live. Eighteen months at the outside. Part of me hopes that I will find Father waiting for me. I want to see him so very much but another part of me dreads that moment.” Mark's lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl. “The bastard has some answering to do.”

I nodded as I found a similar anger in my own chest.

“Ah Freddie.” Mark sighed as he stepped back. “I hope you know, just as I know, that Father was proud of you, and would be still prouder of your accomplishments don't you?”

“I hope so.” I said. “I hope so but part of me thinks that he would be bitter that he didn't climb quite as high as his children have after him.”

“We have done well haven't we.” Mark sniggered.

“We have.” My mood soured. “Those of us that have survived anyway.”

Mark nodded, his own sadness returning.

“So you have told lies about your health and you have pushed yourself far beyond the point where you should have stopped and taken a break.” He told me. If I had my way, you would have stayed on Skellige and allowed yourself to be looked after by people that obviously care about you. Or you would have gone back to Coulthard castle and let some people pamper you. Or come straight here, but then I suppose you and Ariadne might have had difficulty keeping your hands off each other.”

“That might have been an issue.” I admitted.

“So, speaking as your priest and confessor, I have some penance for you.” Mark told me.

“And what is that?”

“Your writing is supposed to educate the people. From the highest noble to the lowest villager. So I want you to educate them all about the dangers of doing what you do. There is no point in going back and filling in the gaps. But I want you to talk about it now. Your unpublished articles are from the end of the Skelligan adventure right?”

I nodded. “I have already got some notes on the journey south and the meeting with the Goddess.”

“Alright. So here is what I want you to do. You agree that you can't keep going forward like this?”

“I do,”

“So I want you to write about the anguish that you felt after the incident. I want you to write about the physical pain that you have been driven to by that event. I want you to write about the arguments. I want you to write about your recovery, slow as it might be, and I want you to write about how awful that you have felt during the process. I want these people that idolise you, correctly, to know the cost of what it takes to be Freddie von Coulthard and all the damage that you have done to yourself and the people that you have cared about. Make them feel it Freddie. Make them read about the dark side of what happens to you. Can you, will you do that Freddie?”

“I think so. I will lose readership. People don't want to read about this stuff.”

“They don't and some people will leave. Others will just skip past it to whatever it is you decide to do next. Which is the trip to Toussaint by the way. But some people might read it and realise the dangers involved, and take some extra care and practise some compassion.”

I nodded my agreement.

Mark nodded. “Then I declare you forgiven Freddie. Now come, pray with me.”

And two brothers knelt in the light of the Eternal Flame and prayed for our forgiveness.

And maybe, for our redemption.

(A/N: Once again, stay safe out there guys. Love to you all and to your families.)