(A/N: A much shorter chapter this time. So much shorter that I am positively giddy. Does anyone else remember those times when a chapter was 5k plus words. Ah the bitter innocence of youth. Don't get use to it though.)(Warning: Contains suicidal thoughts and a discussion regarding the same.)

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Things started to happen bewilderingly fast after that. So fast that I could barely keep up.

I had my spear in my hand. It was definitely my spear. I could see the, oh so familiar, nicks and dents in it. The ones in the haft where I had been forced to block or parry this strike, or that blow. The scratches on the side of the blade where it had been bashed against rock, or gravel from the screeslopes of Northern Redania had run over it.

That small blemish just down from the point of the spear that always seemed to be the point where the rust would start. Even a carefully oiled and maintained blade inside it's sheath. But just a small amount of contact with the open air and then the rust would find that small blemish and then the first flowers of rust and discolouration would start to bloom. Always coming from that first spot.

It was definitely my spear.

Despite this, it felt ugly and clumsy in my hands. It felt uncomfortable, badly balanced and ungainly. I tried to do the most basic of maneouvers with it, just a quick spin in my hands, and I was close to dropping it. The situation was not helped by the fact that I felt really really stupid. Really stupid. I had allowed myself to be trapped in the most elementary little noose and now it was closing round my neck. I was going to survive of course, but my pride, my confidence and my sense of self was going to take a beating.

Emma reached my side first, closely followed by Mark and Ariadne. Kerrass was still arguing with someone a he approached.

“Are you mad?” Emma demanded. “You are in no shape to...”

“Freddie, this is a bad idea. You haven't...” Mark was the next person to allow his displeasure to be shown.Ariadne just stood, looking at me. Her expressionless face was rather eloquent I thought.

“Be quiet both of you.” I meant to say it quietly, but Ariadne later told me that I snapped at the pair of them. I took a deep breath and tried to find some sense of familiarity in the metal haft of my spear.

“Of course this is a bad idea Mark. Of course it is and I know it too.” I sighed and allowed my eyes to close for a moment. I could feel a headache coming on. “And yes Emma, it would seem that I am also quite mad. But both of you know that I don't have a choice here. We're trapped. I am trapped and I have to see this through. Both of you are better than me at this courtier thing. Is there any way that I can decline this without our reputation being in tatters?”

“Our reputation is not worth your health.” Emma snapped. But I looked at her carefully and I could see the doubt in her eyes. The thought processes were already turning. She was already thinking of ways to mitigate the damage, who she would need to talk to and the the favours that she would need to pull in so that we could survive.

“But it's not just us is it.” Mark said, seeing my point. “It's us and Kerrass and Ariadne and Laurelen and the Lodge of Sorceresses and The Duchess for putting her faith in us and giving us so much honour. It's Syanna and the Knights that bear our sister's name and... Flame preserve us for the fools that we are.”

I put my arm on his shoulder. Trying to give comfort that I rather desperately needed myself.

“You and I both know.” I told Emma. “That that isn't true. We both know that I'm trapped and if I walk away now, it does irreperable damage. Not just to us, but to so many other people.” I sighed and took a shuddering breath. “Besides. I can take a beating for that.”

Kerrass pushed past everyone with a small chair that he took me by the shoulder and pushed until I sat down. He had a large bundle of stuff under his arms which he dumped next to me. He handed me a skin of something.

“Drink.” He ordered and I started to do as I was told. The cold water that was inside hurt my throat but I kept swallowing for as long as I could before I gasped for breath.

“I've persuaded Lord de Launfal into being the adjudicator.” He went on, ignoring the others, as he started to unroll the bundle of leather and cloth. “He's forming things up as we speak.”

I nodded, forcing more water down my throat.

“You're going to have to fight barefoot.” Kerrass went on. “Those shoes of yours are good for looking pretty and dancing in but if you try and fight in them then you're going to slip and fall at best. So get em off.”

I nodded and bent to work.

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, the echoes of outrage scrabbling at her throat.

“This is hardly our first time doing this.” Kerrass told her before reaching forward and helping me pull my courtly shoes off. “Although admittedly it's normally Freddie that is the second or squire.”

“How does this work?” Mark asked him.

“I have no idea yet.” Kerrass admitted.

Emma covered her mouth with one hand as her eyes widened in horror and the beginnings of shock.

Ariadne was just looking at me.

“Look.” Kerrass began taking charge, realising that everyone else was panicking. “Dick-dribble over there can't just kill Freddie. That would be murder. There's no dishonour involved so there's no call for an actual duel. I know that much. This is a weapons demonstration, so the very worst that can happen here is that Freddie is going to get beaten up a bit. But in all truth, he's safer now than he is in bed with Ariadne.” He considered his words. “Safer probably. Take your waistcoat off Freddie, you twist too much for that to work.”

I started undoing the buttons.

“Is there any way that Freddie can win?” I didn't register who asked.

“No.” I said. “I'm going to get my ass kicked. What do I know about fighting a duel?” I had got the waistcoat off and was pulling my trousers off as well. They, too, were far too tight to properly fight in.

“Pretty much.” Kerrass agreed. “The best sword duelist in Toussaint, at the moment and outside of the Knights of Francesca who are unknown quantities, is Sir Alain Moineau. But Sir Raoul is not far behind him and is far better on horseback. And no, this is about Freddie, so no. A Knight of Saint Francesca can't take this duel off him. This is about establishing dominance over Freddie, me, the Knights of Francesca and the Coulthard family.”

“He's bullying you Freddie. He's bullying us.” Emma told me, her eyes shining.

I had no idea what to say to that and I just stood there and gaped at her.

“Yes he is.” Kerrass snapped. “But Freddie is not eight years old any more. This is not our fight any more. It's yours. Freddie and I will play our part but we all know what's going to happen.”

“What?”

“He's going to get his ass kicked.” Kerrass was shaking out a larger piece of leather that rattled with buckles. “And the four of you need to suit up and get into the fight.”

Emma and Mark were appalled while Ariadne frowned slightly.

“How many people out there, do not think I am being bullied?” I tried. I desperately needed my brain to start working.

Emma saw what I was saying instantly. “How many people know that you are sick and why.” The tears in her eyes vanished.

Mark was still a little taken aback by how fast things were moving. “Is that definitely your spear?” He wondered.

“It's definitely his spear.” Kerrass said. He was helping me into the leather which turned out to be some kind of thick, padded arming jacket and tugging it into place so that it sat correctly. He pulled me to my feet.

“But how?” Mark wondered. “I thought our rooms were secure and guarded.”

Kerrass laughed at him. “Goddess, I love you people.” He said as he started fastening the buckles under my armpit. “But sometimes you are just too fucking noble in your thinking for your own good. The rooms are not secure.”

“What? But the Knights...”

“Are there to protect you. Hold your arm up Freddie.”

I did as I was told.

“Don't get me wrong.” Kerrass went on as he tied the buckles in. “Someone stole the spear and carried it out under everyone's nose and there need to be questions asked about that. But there are servants going in and out of that room every day. They need to change the bed, serve food, empty chamber pots, run baths, do laundry. Breathe in?”

That last was me as he tied some of the bindings on the jacket a little tighter.

“Too tight?” He asked, I twisted a little and shook my head. Kerrass grunted and moved onto the next knot.

“The Knights are there to keep you alive. But to keep you properly secure they would need to throw you in jail. Putting it another way. You lock your correspondance away in a box don't you Your Grace?”

“How do you know that?” Mark snarled.

Kerrass and I both just turned to look at him.

Ariadne had not moved.

“I see.” Mark took a breath. “I am being stupid. I keep my correspondance locked away to protect it from prying eyes when other priests are in and out of my rooms at all times of day and night.”

“Not stupid.” Kerrass told him. “Emotional. If you want to be useful, help Freddie put these bracers on while I check the ground and see if there are any rules.”

Mark did as he was told. I had to keep him back while I tugged on some gloves.

“Why Gloves on first?” He wondered.

“Because as well as keeping my forearms protected, Bracers also keep the flapping bits of cloth under control.” I told him.

“Why gloves then, surely you would need more control and have a more precise feel of the weapon with your bear hands.”

“In theory,” I told him, wondering if he was asking the question to help me calm down. It could go either way with Mark. “But when you get nervous, your hands sweat, and then grips can slip.”

Mark looked at me. “Well now I feel really stupid.”

Kerrass came back. “Well, the floor is wooden and is smooth and varnished so be careful of slipping.” He told me. “I couldn't find any but splinters might still be a problem so you'll need a bath and then you need to get someone to play with your feet.”

“Something to look forward to,” Mark commented.

Ariadne said nothing. She just stood there, watching me.

“It's going to be best of three rounds.” Kerrass went on. “Sir Raoul's side wanted five, to prolong it presumably, while I argued for one in order to get it over with so three was a compromise.”

I nodded, only half listening, looking in Ariadne's face.

“It's a “friendly” bout.” Kerrass went on. “Which means that injuries will need to be explained away as accidental.”

I nodded at that. “Scoring?”

“Point judged by Palmerin.”

“How long gentlemen?” Palmerin called. Kerrass turned and held his hand up. It was not lost on me that Sir Raoul was already prepared.

“Right,” Kerrass decided. “Clear off both of you. Freddie needs to start getting into the duel now.”

“Right.” Mark said. “Go get im Freddie.”

He hugged me.

Ariadne moved and came closer. She did not hug me. “I want you to know that I love you an awful lot.” She told me without inflection. “And that when this idiocy is over, I will be there with your medicine bottle to catch you.”

I nodded.

“Then as soon as we can, I shall take you back to the palace, get you bathed and into bed where I shall wrap you in a blanket and hold you until you start to feel better. I may even magically enchant the blanket so that no-one can remove it.”

“I love you.” I told her.

“I will go and help Emma.” She replied before turning to Kerrass. “Take care of him Kerrass.”

“I will do my best.” Ariadne followed Mark down the steps.

“Right Freddie, listen to me.” Kerrass said. I turned and started to stare at my opponent who was grinning.

Or sneering. It was hard to tell.

“We both know what's going to happen here but that doesn't mean that we should make it easy for the fucker. He wanted as long as possible so he wants to make a show out of beating you.”

I nodded to show I was listening.

“So I reckon he's going to let you get a point in. He's going to want to get it out of the way while also giving you a false sense of security. That way he can play you for two whole rounds.”

I nodded again.

“So take that away from him. He wants to make you look good while also kicking your ass. Because if he just destroys you, then it's obvious that you're being bullied. So make him win the first point. Then you make him wait before you take the second.”

I nodded again. As Kerrass had taught me, I was trying to move my emotions away. There are mental exercises that you can do in order to help with this. People talk about the Flame and the void where you put all your thoughts and emotions into a flame until only the void is left. Or they talk about putting your emotions into a box in order to set it aside. All of this is true and none of it was working.

“And then, it's all down to the final round. He's going to bring all the tricks to play. So there's only one thing to do there Freddie. Make him work for it.”

“Time gentlemen.” Palmerin was unhappy but he gestured the two of us forward.

Kerrass pulled me to my feet. “Fuck him up Freddie.”

I walked forwards slowly and cautiously. This was not the time to let myself get drawn in. Kerrass' strategy was a good one but in order to make it happen....

One point at a time. He was right that the real fight would happen in the third round. So the first two would have to be fought cautiously. I needed defence here. Not to allow myself to get caught up in the moment.

“Gentlemen.” Lord Palmerin was saying. “To say that I want a nice clean fight is redundant here. Anything less than a nice clean fight and I will declare this... absurd exercise over. Point scoring area is arms above the elbow, legs above the knee, all of the torso. And for the purposes of this evening, head blows do not count. If I judge that either of you are aiming strikes towards the head then I will disqualify you on the spot. Do you understand?”

I nodded to show agreement. Sir Raoul also nodded. He was wearing a white armoured jacket. He had his sword in hand and a shield as well. The shield was larger than the kind of thing that you would carry into a joust. But a little smaller than what the Skelligans used. It was a kite shape, tapered down to one end. I judged it to be designed for singular solitary where the Skelligan shields, like the shields of the Temerian heavy, are designed for formation fighting. This was the shield of a man that was expected to take on large groups of people and win. Or a man that took his weapons into a one on one fight like this one.

“Further to this.” Palmerin continued. “The fact that both of you are wielding live weapons after festivities where you have both been drinking is ridiculous. Therefore, as I have made it clear to your seconds, any injury will result in a lawful charge of assault. And death will be treated as murder. The more so as it will be happening in front of all of these witnesses.”

“Accidents happen,” Sir Raoul protested a little, more for the show of the thing than anything else I thought.

“Yes they do.” Palmerin agreed. “But I will be the judge of an accidental injury and a serious one.”

Sir Raoul and I nodded again, but I was trying to think. Sir Raoul knew about my counter for people getting past the point of my spear. He was prepared for it. So that was what the shield was for. It would also be a mistake to think that the shield was not a weapon in and of itself. Something to that?

Then my head caught up with my ears. Maybe if I could force Sir Raoul into injuring me then we could dispense with this farce that much the quicker. Possible but unlikely. Unless I missed my guess, he had not been drinking. He had been planning this and new what kind of limitations any kind of adjudicator would place on the combat. I would bet a, not inconsiderable amount of money, that he had only been wetting his lips with the wine all night while he waited for this to happen.

“Very well.” Palmerin was talking. “Then gentlemen, I expect a handshake before you start.”

There was a moment there which I would have found amusing if I was feeling entirely well. A moment where we both rushed to be the first person to hold our hands out to show that there was “no hard feelings”.

He had a firm grip although I rather thought that he had to deliberately restrain himself from trying to twist his hands so that his hand was on top and therefore to exert dominance. Here was another man who knew the old saying about being able to look a man square in the eye and shake their hand firmly.

I had been wrong before, when I had said that Sir Raoul would realise that he was losing the top of his game and retire somewhere before that could happen. I realise it as I looked in his eyes and shook his hand. This man had his life planned out. He was building his foundation of wealth and fame as a Knight from the jousting field and then he would move into politics from there. He probably fancied himself a suitor to the Duchess, or even the Empress above that. I nearly laughed there and then in his face as I allowed that thought to cross my mind. Ciri would laugh in the face of this fucker before removing his balls.

“Then retire gentlemen.” Palmerin urged us.

We both took a few steps backwards.

“And begin.” Palmerin called.

Sir Raoul raised his sword in a salute and I answered.

Flame but I was already exhausted.

We both advanced cautiously as I held the spar in the most basic of the basic stances. I jabbed forwards a couple of times to show that I was serious about probing his defences. One blow he let slide of his shield and the other he beat aside with his sword.

He took a step forward and tried to knock the spear aside so that he could get closer. I stepped aside quickly, with Kerrass' words echoing in my ears. “Never step backwards Freddie. Not if you can possibly avoid it. Forwards or to the side.

Flame, I was gasping for breath. I took a deep breath, another, another and I tried to force my heartbeat and breathing down to a regular rhythm.

I almost missed the fact that he was coming at me. I parried and blocked desperately for a moment as I berated myself for stupdly allowing him to get that close.

Stupid, Stupid.

I automatically launched forwards into an attack and even as I was doing so, I could feel Kerrass' disappointment in going against his strategy. This was not what we had in mind and I cooled instantly, especially because I could see that Sir Raoul was grinning at me.

I had missed anyway.

I took another couple of deep breaths to try and calm myself down. To try and force myself to think. Sweat was pouring from my forehead and I pulled back to give myself a second to wipe my brow clear. Sir Raoul didn't let me do this for long though. He stepped forward with his blade spinning in an overly pretentious twirl, more designed to catch the light and make his sword twinkle than anything.

I switched my grip on the spear to how I would have used a quarterstaff and I parried his first strike. Then a second. Then a third.

I felt things coming clear in my head then. He was trying to force the closing of the distance. Trying to “get past the point” and now that I was fighting like a Quarterstaff wielder, he didn't know what to do. So I just defended. Parrying, blocking and moving.

I started to feel the first flickerings of confidence in myself as my breathing and things started to come a little easier. He was trying to draw me in, leaving increasingly obvious gaps in his defence. Desperately trying to make me strike back at him. Trying to make me hit him back.

But every gap, I ignored, every opportunity he left me, I stepped backwards. I just wanted to be safe. I began to feel him get more frustrated and I felt another surge of calm confidence shot into my limbs. There was no way I could win overall. He was too fast. Far too fast and far too good. But he was getting more and more angry. He knew about the little tricks. He knew about how to control his facial expressions so that he didn't give anything away. He knew about how to control his breathing so that he could disguise his strikes. He knew about all of these things.

But he could not keep his jaw from clenching. It was something about the way his eyes narrowed.

He came at me with a flurry of blows. He was defeinitely holding back and playing to the crowd a bit with a few more overt twirls of his blade than was entirely necessary.

If this was a real fight. Those extra twirls would have been able to be used to rain extra blows on me. The gaps could leave room for other maneauvers.

But then again, this wasn't a real fight. It was a duel.

I didn't need to watch the blows any more. I was finding my rhythm. He was not using every trick he had. He was just striking at me while also not wanting to actually hit me. He was swinging well clear of my actual body to the point where it was closer to stage fighting than it was an actual duel.

Don't get me wrong, there is space in an actual fight to strike at the weapon rather than the man if you need to knock the weapon aside in order to make room for a follow up. But that wasn't what was happening here. He wanted me to strike out at him.

And he was getting angrier. I had the most distinct feeling yet that I was going to pay for this. That he was going to make me feel it in the last round. Presuming, of course, that I could get him to hit me in this round. I could tell that he was getting angrier. He might be able to control his gaze, to control his expression and his breathing. But he was getting increasingly flushed.

Then his blade lowered in frustration and that was what I wanted. I needed him to be reacting on instinct rather than thought. It was the only way I could figure to get him to actually strike out is if he did it automatically.

So I attacked. It was not clever, there was no finesse to it and if I had tried to pull that crap on the training field then Kerrass would have, rightly, kicked my ass for it. I held my spear like a quarter staff and just went for him. Blows struck his shield, his sword his shield again, a blow glanced off the floor and the, as I had hoped, he moved aside, and allowed one of the blows to sail past his head.

We call that “slipping the blow,” for those people that prefer me to get a bit technical about the matter.

I allowed myself to stumble off balance and went to move past him.

I literally broke out in a sweat. If this had been a fight, or anything even resembling a fight, then I would be dead. The blow would fall onto my back and even if the blow didn't bite deep then my back would have been broken by it.

Sure enough I felt the press on my back.

“Point.” Lord Palmerin shouted and I straightened, plastering a rueful smile on my face. The adrenaline flushed out of my system almost immediately as I straightened up. A trickle of cold sweat ran down my spine and I shivered.

It was an actual effort to get my body to turn and stare my opponent in the face.

He was livid, eyes boggling out of his head, his expression was a mask.

“Well struck.” I said loudly, my turn to play to the crowd now. “I can see that I will have to up my game a little.”

I stretched my shoulders and started to walk towards Kerrass. It took everything I had not to stagger and slump down into the chair.

“Drink.” Kerrass said as he passed me the skin.

I did as I was told. My stomach was roiling and I desperately wanted to vomit.

“Well done Freddie.” Kerrass was crouched in front of me, making sure that he had his back to the crowd and that no-one could see what he was saying. “Well done.”

I felt tears in the corner of my eyes and the beginnings of spasming in my fingers.

“I can't do this Kerrass,” I whimpered without knowing what I was going to say. “I can't do it. Please don't make me.”

“Freddie, look at me. Straight into the yellow eyes. Look at me.”

I sniffed and did my best to swallow the lump in my throat.

“Freddie. You've already won. You can't beat him, we know that. So now, you've forced him from his game plan. He only gets one round to show everyone how much better he is than you. There's only one round now where he gets to do that. You've got this. Just a little longer, I promise.”

I nodded. “Flame Kerrass but I can't....”

“Yes you can. You can do it.”

“Time Gentlemen please.” Lord Palmerin was calling.

“You've got this Freddie. This is your round. He needs to get you to hit him. Make him work for that. Don't let him push you around.”

I nodded, wiped my face again and stood up. A wave of dizziness struck me and I found myself weaving in place, almost swaying from side to side.

I tried everything. I tried to reach fo the anger that I would normally be able to get some form of energy from. I tried to think of Ariadne or Emma. I even tried to imagine Francesca in the heat of the moment.But nothing came. It was like...

I felt like I was drowning. As though someone or something was squeezing the sides of my head.

I sobbed.

“Lord Frederick?” Palmerin again

“Freddie?” Kerrass prompted.

I was definitely trembling now.

I forced my eyes open and took a step forward. Another step and another.

“Lord Frederick, are you quite well?” Palmerin asked.

I nodded, not quite trusting myself to speak.

“Then begin gentlemen,” Lord Palmerin called before stepping backwards.

My breath hissed between my teeth as I grunted with the sheer exertion of just being able to lift my spear. Flame but it was heavy. I staggered forward to meet my opponent and as I looked at him, I saw him smile that half grin, half sneer that I was truly beginning to hate.

He held his sword out and pointed it at my head. The strength of his arm to be able to perform that feat must have been extraordinary as he held it there, unmoving. His shield was tucked in across his body, hiding almost all of it from view.

And I saw his plan, clear as I can see the sunlight in the morning. He had realised what our plan had been. He had felt that he had been tricked into gaining a point on me. So now, he was going to make a show of it. He wanted to prove to the crowd that he was the better man. So he was going to play the superior swordsman, toying with, indulging the lesser opponent and when he did allow me the point, it would be at a time of his own choosing and he could dismiss it as having been lucky.

The sight of his smug grin, the.... the knowledge, the instinct of reading my opponent was like a rush of energy on a cold day. But no sooner had that realisation struck, than I felt it beginning to dissipate, leaving me gasping and trembling again.

For a moment there. Just for a moment, I had felt that old part of me. The part of me that knew how to be a fighter. The part of me that had begun to suggest ways and strategys to get through his defences. The ways that I could knock his sword aside and get through to him.

But that person had gone now and I was left with what I had become, a shell of my former self.

I tried the only thing that I could remember thinking. It was the first gambit. The simplest gambit and it would, almost certainly, not work. I batted his sword aside and stepped forward. He moved his sword around the strike and held it at it's original position.

Even if nothing else was true, even if I hated him for everything else. I had to admire him for that amount of strength in his forearm. Unless, of course, he was using a lighter blade for the purposes of making a show. Anything was possible at this stage.

I tried again with another step forward, only to get the same response. He was openly smiling now. A genuine looking smile which meant that he was playing to the crowd a little more. The show had begun and I was still sweating.

Flame but I wanted this to be over.

I stepped forward.

The cleverness about this pose of his is the same basis for swordplay in dueling just about the continent over. If you hold your sword like that then your opponent has to walk into the blade to get to you. It is sometimes called the “mid” stance or even the neutral stance. Most fencers don't like it really because it is purely defensive. As a resting stance it doesn't really give you anything to do. When compared with the high stance who some call “Falcon Stance” where the blade is held high and an opponent can be sure that that blade is going to come crashing down on your head.

I tried again. This time he stepped backwards as well. I tried again and we stepped to the side. Giving the unfortunate impression that this was like a dance.

It was not a dance.

Flame but I wanted this to be over. I wanted all of this to be over. I just wanted to stop now.

Nothing else for it but to close the distance.

Flame I was tired.

I attacked, using all the tricks that I knew, all the tricks that I could come up with and a few more that I made up on the spot. I tried the off rhythm pattern of short and sharp lunges. But there he was like water and simply flowed aside from them. I tried various quarterstaff tricks of alternating rhythms and he either dodged or took the blows on the shield. I even tried the whole huge blow that spun at his legs. He simply placed his shield down to intercept and laughed.

“You don't need to kill me to win you know.” He told me.

The crowd laughed at his humour and he wasn't even breathing hard.

I did not. I was too busy struggling to see through the sweat that was pouring off my face. I was too busy trying to focus to keep in my view.

Then he attacked and I was defending.

There was no artistry to the strikes. Nothing that I had not seen before and again, just for a moment, I saw that he was trying to do exactly the same thing that I had done before. He was trying to tire me out so that I would react on reflex. The blows rained down on me and I parried, blocked and dodged with all the remnants of the skill that I could still command.

I was out of breath. Whimpering with the exertion. My arms were numb from the impacts. My thighs trembled with the exertion and my knees desperately wanted to collapse under me.

I was fighting on intstinct now and that could not be allowed. This was not a fight, it was a duel and I could not allow that to happen. But Flame I wanted this to be over. It would almost be worth it if I killed him and I could be marched to the noose. Fuck what would happen with....

and then it struck me.

I warn you. This gets pretty dark.

I realised how I could finish this fight and still destroy my enemy. We were fighting hard now, blows were being struck and although I was exhausted, Sir Raoul was still fighting with energy. If I just stepped into the blow and let him hit me then it would all be over. If I let him kill me then he would be destroyed as a murderer and finally I would be free.

Nothing to worry about any more. No need to be under pressure for keeping the family together. No more pressure about getting married or having to preserve this or that. No more anything. I would be able to rest and the world would continue without me. I could stop. Set everything aside. I could die and then I would be able to rest. All I had to do was to change my stance like this and then I would be able to step into his blow like this and then...

“FREDDIE.” Ariadne screamed into my head.

I blinked the sweat away and I blocked. It was luck, sheer luck that stopped that blade from descending. Then I twisted the blade. I saw a look of calculation on Sir Raoul's face. He allowed me to envelop his sword and spun away from my return lunge. Just allowing the end of the spear to touch his back.

“Point.” Lord Palmerin shouted and the crowd cheered.

“A point well struck.” Sir Raoul smiled ruefully, pulling away and returning to where his own squires and seconds were waiting for him.

I stood staring at him for far too long. Tears streaming down my face. Flame but I wanted this to all be over. I wanted it to end. I didn't want to do this any more.

Someone grabbed me by the arm. I struggled but the grip was like steel. There was no way that I would be able to break free of it. I was lost. I had no idea where I was. I was grabbed again, spun and fell backwards onto my stool.

“Freddie, look at me.”

I blinked into space. I couldn't see, I had no idea where I was. Sweat mingled with tears mingled with sweat. I was grunting, groaning and almost keening as I sat there and shook like a leaf in a wind storm.

A sharp pain exploded against the side of my face and my head rocked to one side.

It's crude, sometimes it can do more harm than good, but other times, a slap to the face really can be a quick bandage over a gaping wound. A field dressing but nothing else.

“Freddie, damn you, look at me.” Kerrass hissed fiercely.

“Kerrass?” I whimpered.

“Look at me Freddie.” He snarled.

“I can't do this Kerrass.” I pleaded. “Let me go, please.”

“Fuck that.” He growled. “You didn't give up on me so damned if I'm giving up on you.”

“I don't... I can't...”

“And I told you those things as well. Freddie, look at me. Damn your eyes look at me.”

From somewhere I found the strength to lift my head.

“You carried me.” Kerrass snarled at me. I barely recognised him. If it had been anyone else I would have sworn that he was on the edge of tears. “You carried me through Northern Redania. You refused to let me lay down and die and... dammit.”

He grabbed me by the back of the head and pulled me closer so that our foreheads rested together. I got the dim feeling of the crowd in the background. He spoke quietly and fiercely.

“I wanted to give up so badly.” He told me. “And you refused. You wouldn't let me. Well fucked if I'm going to let you give up now. You are stronger than this. You can do this. I know you can because you made me take that step when I could barely breathe with the agony of having my arms shattered.”

“It hurts Kerrass.” For all the world it was the voice of a four year old child.

“I know it hurts Freddie. I know it hurts. Goddess but I know. But you can't give up now. You have stood before things that would make that fucker shit himself and piss himself and then shit himself again. One of those things is waiting for you and she loves you. Don't break her heart Freddie. Don't do it. Don't break mine either.”

And just like that, it was like a splash of cold water. A deep and shuddering breath hissed through my chest and from somewhere I heard my own voice.

“That was a low blow Kerrass. Invoking Ariadne like that.”

“And don't I know it Freddie but if you scare me like that again then I swear I will punch you so hard your balls will come out of your nose.”

I found a laugh from somewhere.

In the distance I could hear Sir Raoul arguing with Lord Palmerin.

“Now we haven't got long.” Kerrass told me. “Lord Palmerin can only hold him up for so long and then it's going to start again. Just a little bit longer Freddie. I promise, just hold on a little bit longer and then we can get you out of here. Take you up to the palace, knock the fuck out of whoever it was that allowed your spear to be stolen, tell the Duchess to go and fuck herself for allowing this sort of shite to occur. And then you can rest in your rooms. I will personally tuck you into bed with Ariadne on one side and Anne on the other. I will even go out, hire some more women and drown you in beautiful naked women. And when you recover I will find the best wines and get you drunker than you've ever been before I dip you in honey and toss you back to the courtesans.”

I nodded and he pulled me into an embrace.

“I am so proud of you Freddie.” He told me fiercely. “So proud. Just a little bit more.”

I nodded and climbed to my feet.

Lord Palmerin had approached. “Is Lord Frederick ready?”

“Yes.” Kerrass answered.

“Because I will fucking well call off this farce of a...”

“I'm ready.” I told him. Suddenly proud of how steady my voice was.

As victories go, it was not a big one but right there and right then, I would take what I could get.

Palmerin nodded. He wasn't happy. It was dripping off him.

“What do I do Kerrass?” I asked.

“Just hold on Freddie. Make the bastard work for it.”

I nodded. Stretched out a little and took a step forward.

Kerrass caught me by the elbow. “Freddie?”

I turned and the Witcher was back. Everything that had happened in the last few moments might as well have been some kind of hallucination.

“Yes Kerrass?”

“See if the bastard can lift his hand above his shoulder.” Kerrass grinned at me. Horribly.

I actually managed to laugh at that. But I was already sweating and my knees were already weak.

“Gentlemen.” Lord Palmerin said, eyeing us both. Sir Raoul's face was a mask of concentration now. Not moving, not adjusting. He was still.

“Gentlemen.” Lord Palmerin said again, speaking to us both and to the audience as well. “This is the final round. The deciding moment. But I want to make something very clear. Neither of you are properly armed or armoured for this. Both of you have been drinking and both of you have a large, emotional stake in how this plays out. Believe me when I say that I will not hesitate. Not for one moment. I will not hesitate to call this entire thing off.”

That shocked Sir Raoul. “But, you can't do that. This is a matter of...”

“Honour?” Palmerin hissed quietly. “This is about as honourable as my left bollock.” Then he raised his voice. “This might be a matter of honour for you Sir Raoul, but it is plain, even to me, that Lord Frederick is still recovering from injuries sustained during his many and varied adventures. Indeed, I would have advised him to decline the invitation to a... weapons demonstration, but he seems to be just as stubborn as you are in his own way. This is a weapons demonstration for the entertainment of others, no more or less than that. You should both...”

“But...” Sir Raoul protested.

“But you are correct.” Lord Palemrin told him. “This is a matter of honour. My honour. I am the adjudicator here. I am the final arbiter. And if I decide that it is necessary then I will declare the contest at an end and that this entire proceeding is over and done. That is my responsibility and my duty as a Knight. And I would remind all here present that I am Knight Errant. Not that I wouldn't also be proud to be a Knight of Saint Francesca. If you have a problem with this Lord LeBlanc, then I advise you to say so now and withdraw.”

My opponent's eyes narrowed slightly. Not that I think the two men had been close friends before this day. But now I was certain that Lord Palmerin had just made an enemy.

“Then begin.” Palmerin said, stepping back quickly.

I had used the brief delay that his little speech had bought me to get some of my breath back. And I had needed to do preciely that because I was retreating backwards quickly.

Sir Raoul came on fast and hard. Just moving towards me like an avalanche. I sidestepped and he followed. I retreated and he followed. Over and over again I tried to push him back, to score a point on him in some way and over and over again, he just blocked or parried the point of my spear and came within striking distance forcing me to block, to parry or to dodge.

I clean forgot about the dagger at my waist for... Flame, I have no idea how long. But it was far too long.

Letho would have been furious with me. I drew it and put my spear between me and his sword, standing it upright like a staff. I tried to reach over the shield with my dagger to get at something that would help me earn a point.

But he simply lifted his shield to block the strike before putting his shoulder into the shield and knocking me backwards so that I staggered. He lashed out with the edge of the shield and the dagger flew out of my numb fingers to skitter on the wooden staging. Sir Raoul took the time to kick it off the stage so that it fell towards the waiting crowd.

He looked at me and smirked. I could almost hear him in my head, in the same way that I can hear Ariadne through our link. “So much for your dagger trick, Lord Frederick.”

And then he came on again. It was inexorable.

I tried to blink, trying to get the sweat out of my eyes.

I was cold, I was achingkly tired and shivering with the chill of it. I had been fighting for what felt like hours and I could hear the roar of the waves and the screeching of the harpies overhead. The horrible bellowing of the ice giants and the primal screams of the ice trolls. We were getting butchered and the crew of the Wave-Serpent were not going to make it back to Kaer Trolde. We were going to die out here in a useless effort to try and talk to an ice giant. How could I have been so utterly stupid. An Ice troll was coming towards me, it's club raised above it's head, ready to cave my skull in. I needed to move, I needed to lunge, dodge, spin aside. I needed to do something or that club was going to destroy me. I wondered if it would even stop or feel any kind of resistance as it impacted in my body.

I blinked. I was not facing a troll. I was cold and there was sweat against my skin. But I was dressed in light leathers, not the thick furs that had kept me warm and safe in Skellige.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I finally managed to convince my tortured body to move aside and blocked Sir Raoul's reverse stroke. But then I was backing off again. Far too fast. He came at me again, cold air seared my lungs as I fought for breath.

I blinked.

The air was cold and thin as the muscle bound Witcher bore down on me. His face was dead, devoid of all expression. Neither compassion or hatred would find a toe-hold on that brutal, horrible visage. The high mountain air was thin and I felt as though I needed twice the amount that I would normally require, just to keep myself standing. He didn't roar as he lifted his huge sword to strike me down. He was unstoppable, he was a primal force. I tried for the rage that had carried me through so many other fights. I tried for the anger and the bitter disappointment that I had come all the way to Kaer Morhen, only to be killed by a man that had promised to leave me alone and let me be safe.

I blinked.

Just in time to parry the blows that were raining down on me now. I had stood my ground, for reasons only known to the instinct that was, by now, the only thing that was carrying me through this entire situation.

There was no skill going on here. No strategy or tactic. My body had decided that it wanted to live and, fortunately for us all, it was no longer in control of the mind that would have quite happily curled up and died there and then in front of anyone.

I even grinned for a sudden moment of realisation as I bet with myself that no party in Toussaint had ever seen that particular art form demonstrated.

How to die by Lord Frederick Coulthard.

Heh.

The smile had been a mistake though. It infuriated Sir Raoul and he came at me like a storm, his face in a rictus of anger. I blinked again. I couldn't see him. Why couldn't I see him.

There was a figure in front of me, sword, shield and he was trying to kill me, his face was blank, I didn't recognise him.

I was in a courtroom. Wood smoke in the air. I was warm but it felt like my entire body was cramping. Like that feeling you get after you've done a little bit too much work during the day and your body complains with a sharp, unpleasant pain. I wanted to vomit, my stomach was churning and I felt a horrible need to defecate in my leggings. Not that that would help. I knew from long and bitter experience that even were I to take a long time in the Jacks, I would still not have entirely voided the poison that was in my bowels.

I was fighting. This was a good fight. A worthwhile fight. There were children behind me, a warrior on my right and the enemy that had poisoned me was coming at me with his sword raised. All I had to do was to sidestep like so, pick my target, I decided to go with the man's throat and lunch forward like this.

And the enemy parried.

I blinked.

That's right. I wasn't sweating with fever. I was sweating with fear. I was sweating with cold, stark terror. I could barely focus any more. I could barely lift the spear. I could barely move I could barely....

I could barely breathe.

Flame but he was fast. So very fast that I couldn't, I just couldn't. It hurt so much.

I blinked. I was in a smoky hall, the smell of my own burnt flesh was in my nostrils as my arms and legs screamed in the agony of torture.

I was in Northern Redania, shivering with fear and terror as I forced my tired body to run and run and run. I was somewhere to the South, standing over a shivering shepherd's family as the Griffin plunged towards them with it's talons outstretched and a Witcher on it's back.

I was inside a nightmare. I was fighting all the enemies and none of them. Even when I managed to fight through the pain and the sweat and the tears and the... whatever it was... I could barely see Sir Raoul. He was this pale, white blur in front of me. The only reason he didn't kill me was because he was toying with me.

I fought desperately. He just kept coming. Every trick, every effort, every movement, everything I had. Everything I had was a joke to him. I don't think he even broke a sweat. I just couldn't get near him. I felt like I was fighting against myself as much as I was fighting him. I was fighting my memories, my own mind and body.

It wasn't just because this wasn't a real fight although that certainly played a part in what was happening. Nor was it just because we were on display in front of so many other people. The truth was that I had forgotten them all up until that moment.

It was fear. For just a moment there, I had wanted to die. I had even begun to plan and execute the method on allowing myself to die. I had also wanted it all to be over so very badly.

I came to a head when I was fighting a cultist. My brain was trying to reconcile the fact that those cultists that I had fought when we still called them “The Hounds of Kreve” used shabby, crude weapons and equipment. Those few that I had fought in that guise, I had defeated easily and although I was far below my normal physical and skill peak. I was confused as to why the cultist that I was fighting was so skilled and had better weapons and armour than I could manage.

That point of logic snapped me out of my... Ariande calls them Flashbacks or intrusive memories. I stress that each one lasted a heartbeat at most. But they had happened and I blinked and Sir Raoul was bringing his sword down. I lifted my spear to block with an intention to push his strike to one side. I was blubbering with pain and fear and I took a step backwards.

But there was nothing there and I was falling. I screamed as I realised that I was falling off the stage. Or at least, I was falling off something. I don't know what.

But I fell. It felt like I was falling for a long time before the hard stone of the courtyard hit me on the back and the breath exploded out of my open mouth.

I cramped, my insides heaving as they fought for air.

I was dimly aware that Sir Raoul, jumped down to stand over me.

“I win.” He said, reaching out and tapping me on the chest with the end of his sword. “Well fought.” He said loudly as I tried to plead for air. “But no spear is going to be a match for a good sword, a solid shield and a righteous man wielding it.”

I tried to get the breath. But there was nothing there. Nothing was coming.

Kerrass landed next to me. “Come on Freddie, breathe.” He started to turn me onto one side and rubbed my back.

A gasp came and I coughed.

Another gasp, I was feeling light headed then and another gasp

“Come back Freddie. It's over, you're done. You're safe.”

I couldn't move, thinking was out of the question. I had no idea what was going on as I turned onto my side.“It was a good demonstration.” A woman's voice. I would later learn that the Duchess had set aside her disguise from where she was in order to deal with the situation.

I felt my head lifted and the edge of a bottle. A liquid tried to enter my mouth and I panicked. I was still trying to breathe and I was desperately afraid that I might drown.

“Freddie, don't fight us.” A hand was placed on my head.

I felt warmth and I allowed the bottle to get to my lips and I took several swallows of the sharp, acidic liquid.

“So proud of you Freddie.” Kerrass I think. “You did so well.”

I slept.

It can't have been for very long as I woke up a few moments later. I had been lain on a bench in front of a fire bowl. Ariadne was sat next to me and had her hand on my shoulder. She knew that I had woken almost instantly.

“Freddie?”

I nodded.

“Please don't leave me Freddie.” She said to me, her face a mask. “I could not bear it.”

I nodded again. “I'm sorry.” I croaked. My voice was hoarse.

“Oh Freddie,” Her mask cracked for just a moment. “It's not your fault. Your mind was breaking and couldn't cope. It will not be the last time that it tries to tell you that Suicide is the easy way out. There is even a danger that it will become one of those solutions that your brain offers whenever things are going wrong.”

“Huh?”

“Enemies are coming,” She suggested, “What do we do? We could fight, run away, or we could kill ourselves. We are hungry? We could wait for dinner, we could get a snack, or we could kill ourselves. We have stubbed our toe and are in pain? We could ignore it, see if we really are injured and go to see the healer, or we could kill ourselves.”

“It sounds stupid.”

“The brain is sometimes stupid. We can talk about it some more when you are feeling stronger, but just promise me that when it occurs to you that a quick and easy solution to the problems of your life is for you to kill yourself. Promise me that you will remember that your brain is lying to you. And when it does, come and find me and I will tell you how wrong your brain is.”

“The party?”

“It would seem that yours and Sir Raoul's demonstrations were the highlight of the show.” The mask slipped then and she was back to being Ariadne. “People are still talking about it and assessing it and analyising it. Most are taking it as Sir Raoul's victory, but even they are not entirely on his side. A lot of people are pointing out that you have never claimed to be a fighter and that Sir Raoul's a former knight Errant and a champion of the tournaments. You are neither. Some other are suggesting that if you had had more time or were more prepared then you might have done better, pointing out that Sir Raoul sprung it on you.”

“He did.”

“Yes he did. There is also a, not small, group of people that are arguing that you are not a duelist. Many are pointing out parts of the duel where you seemed to be fighting yourself as much as Sir Raoul. That you were restraining yourself in some way. They also argued that, of the two of you, you were the one actually trying to entertain the crowd, which was the point after all.”

I had a little chuckle at that before a quiestion occurred.

“Kerrass?”

“He has already gone. He wanted me to apologise to you on his behalf.”

I smiled, “A certain amorous adventure?”

“I think so. But I also think that you almost broke his heart a little there. He also had a message for you. I found it a little confusing. He told me to tell you that he is very proud of you in passing your latest trial of Death.”

“Oh that's from...”

“I know that bit. It was the bit where he told me to tell you that “He can't lift his arm above his shoulder.” What did he mean by that Freddie?”

I felt myself smile. “It means that Sir Raoul has a weakness. Did he say what it was.”

“No. He told me to tell you that he would see you in the morning for exercises.”

“Rest now.” She said. “The Duchess has sent for her carriage to take us back to the keep. Emma is going to stay for a while to explain your injuries and illness to people. Mark is staying with her as is Laurelen. Kerrass has gone off to find Lady Moineau.”

I nodded, all of that made sense.

I lay there for a moment, she scooted a long and lifted me so that I could rest my head in her lap. I took a breath, another breath and I could feel a lump in my throat. My eyes were struggling to focus.

“It's ok Freddie.” She said as she stroked my hair. “I've got you. Let go.”

I buried my face in her skirts and just wept silently.

Despite the fact that the Duchess' own carriage was on it's way to take me back to the palace, it took quite a long time to get me out of there. Through no particular reason that could have been controlled. A large number of people wanted to commiserate with me on my loss to Sir Raoul. Even more people wanted to talk me through how I could do better next time...

Next time... heh.

There was also some problems with getting the carriage down for reasons that I couldn't get into.

Emma and Mark were working the crowd. Mark had wanted to be with me after I had passed out as he rather thought that I needed some kind of spiritual assistance. But in the end, Ariadne had prevailed as well as the fact that more and more people wanted to talk to him as well. He was rather struggling to get away from everything and everyone.

Emma was in her element. She will hate me for saying that and I also know that she was absolutely hating every second of every moment that she was there, talking to people, appearing as unconcerned as she could manage when all she wanted to do really was to be by my side.

Well I'm here to tell you that there was nothing that you could have done Emma. We needed you there and in that crowd in the heat of the moment. It was awful and it will have been awful for you. I am so sorry and I'm sorry that I scared you. But your place was in the crowd at that moment.

I'm told that she did really really well and brought more than one person over to our side of the argument.

I would learn many of the dynamics of some of the party later from people that were there. After his victory over me, Sir Raoul was thoughtful. He had won and he knew it too. There was no way that I could have beaten him on the duelling field, he knew that and he felt that in his bones. But something in the combat or the aftermath of it had left him feeling... hollow. I have no idea what that was, but I do know that it was making him sullen and angry. Many of his cronies gathered around him to congratulate him. Congratulations and accolades that he accepted readily and with gratitude but after that, as people and hangers on started to gather round him to discuss matters further, he started to become sullen and unhappy. No-one could tell me why. In the end, he actually left before I had time to recover and congratulate him in person.

Sir Alain was doing his best to seduce some of the female artists, as well as the subjects of the artist's paintings and was succeeding too. People can read into that what they like. The part of me that doesn't like the man would say something like... Artists need to eat too.

The point of the entire thing, after all, was to re-emphasise to people like Alain that making art is hard and no matter how much they might wish it to be so, exposure does not pay the rent. Art requires practice and tools and time. All of which costs money. So if you want to have art in your life. Whether that's paintings, music, tapestries, sculpture, gardening, fireworks, I could go on. Then the point of the entire affair was that you should learn to be alright with paying for it. That it was worth the money.

But not everyone learned that lesson. Some people took that to heart but still others just saw it as an amusing diversion from the fact that it was fucking cold and that everyone needed something to do.

But here's my point. Artists often find it difficult to plan for the future because they never know when their current patron is going to grow bored of their work and move onto another artist. Therefore they will often take what they can get when it's offered. A bit of security and a night of good food in a warm bed was all the enticement that a handsome man might have to offer to convince a pretty young artist into his bed. With the hope that she might secure a patron for the future.

I mean, as I say, the part of me that didn't like Sir Alain was telling me that they couldn't possibly be attracted to, or be seduced by him. It had to be a means to an end after all.

So he had left the party at some point as well. Apprently, the artform that he demonstrated was that he performed some kind of poetry. Opinion, that I heard later, varied on the subject.

All the way from, “He wrote it himself and he performed it beautifully.” Down to. “He obviously copied the poetry from this famous poem that was attributed to “anonymous”. He was overly flamboyant in his performance and was trying to make the words sound much more profound than they actually were. He had clearly missed the point that some of what he was saying had clearly been meant as a satire.”

But regardless of my dislike, he was undeniably a good looking man. I'm told that he was seen leaving the party with two, absurdly beautiful women on his arm and a smile on his face.

After I had wept myself out I found that I recovered fairly quickly. It would have been, undeniably, better, if I had been able to climb aboard the Ducal coach for my trip back to the palace. But the prolonged wait had meant that I had time to think. Which I didn't want to do. So to distract myself from this I became almost manic.

Remembering and, possibly deliberately misinterpreting the advice of Sir Walther, I decided to use the manic energy while it was there. I knew I would pay for it later, but I literally had a moment where I thought to myself “Fuck it. I've just tried to kill myself.”

I had Ariadne take me back to the front entrance to find the servant at the table who was passing out the small cups of what had been referred to as “Joy” and got him to pass me a cup which I drank at a swallow. The warming herbs that the drink obviously contained hit my stomach like a runaway horse and made the ends of my fingers tingle.

So I drank another. And then I drank another, before I realised that Ariadne was frowning at me. From there I marched over to one of the trestle tables that were still laden down with food and hunted around until I found one of the salted Pork and apple pies that I was beginning to really get a taste for and I ate it in a couple of swallows, only to find that I was famished.

Another pie left my mouth feeling dry and I drank some watered wine before picking up some kind of iced pastry that I was halfway through eating when the first party goer realised that I was there.

“Lord Frederick.” A man that I knew by sight, but not by name, came over and seized my hand, shaking it vigorously. “Of course you might forget me given everything that had happened. I am Velles the merchant.”

I remembered. “The Man that fought at the Line.”

“Ah, you do remember me. Very well fought, I hope you don't mind me saying so.”

“You compliment me sir.” I told him. Only just swallowing before I started speaking. “I thought I did rather poorly.”

“Pssh.” He said with a grin. “A spear is not a duellist's weapon. I have read your journals and I know exactly the purpose of the weapon and...”

I nodded and smiled as more people arrived to congratulate and commiserate me. I laughed and joked but there was a kind of remote quality to it. I've spoken a little about this before but the effect was as though I was watching and listening to myself and the conversations that I was having through a tube, or at the end of a tunnel or cave.

I could concentrate but mostly I drifted through the thing in some kind of a daze. I had entire conversations with people that I cannot now remember.

Apparently I was quite witty.

I danced a little with Ariadne as some of the more professional musicians started to make themselves known. When Emma found me I remembered that I was supposed to congratulate Sir Raoul on his victory which was when I learned that he had left to my, actually quite considerable, disappointment.

I also made a point of finding Lord Palmerin who was, rather unhappily, sitting in the middle of a group of people who were commenting on the duel. Natanis had pulled on a dress, actually somewhat more demure and restrained than she would normally wear as a Succubus and was watching Lord Palmerin closely and unhappily. She saw Ariadne and I approach and ran forward to throw her arms round me without a word.

“You should go to bed.” She whispered in my ear. “And affirm your life by making vigourous love with a beautiulf woman.”

“Believe me when I say that I am trying.” I whispered back. “But I have responsibilites.”

She snorted. “Human society.” She spat. She seemed to be the opposite of Ariadne in many ways. In moments of high stress and high emotion Ariadne becomes reserved in an effort to hide her emotional state and continue to remain human. But in doing so, she sometimes betrays the fact that she is not human as she becomes more perfect than perfection.

Natanis was the opposite of that. I think she tolerated human society because, at the time that I knew her, she loved Lord Palmerin, but when it annoyed her, she stopped trying to be quite as human as she wanted to appear. She became more bestial and the Pheremones started to roll off her. In that moment, to me, right there and then, she was obviously beautiful and devestatingly attractive, but I didn't want her. I knew that I should but I didn't.

“Human society. I have never heard of anything more pointless that you people would want to die for. Palmerin is the same. At a time when he should really be looking after himself and resting, there he is trying to talk to people and making a nuisance of himself.”

She sighed and then she was back to being plain old Natanis.

Not that she is either plain or old. But there it is.

“Lord Frederick.” Palmerin came over to me. “You look....” He looked me up and down. “Better than I expected you to in all truth. That last impact as you fell off the stage seemed to rather take it out of you.”

“That's because it did take it out of me.” I told him. “I won't lie Lord Palmerin.”

“Palmerin please, how many times Lord Frederick.”

I grinned at him. “I won't lie Palmerin, it was a hard thing.”

He took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder. Natanis and Ariadne had their heads together and were gossiping and he glared at the other hangers on that were waiting to talk to me.

“I won't lie either Freddie. That was a hard fought match. I was honestly worried there for a second.”

“I know but...”

“I don't think you do.” He sighed. “There was no way that you were going to win that duel. You fought as well as you could but there was no way you were going to win a duel. But that's not what I'm talking about. Raoul was never going to risk injuring or killing one of the Duchess' most eminent guests. He just wanted to show you your place.”

“Which he did.”

“Yes. He showed you, and everyone else that the two of you operate on different levels and scales. But that's not what I want to talk about here.” His eyes bored into mine. “You know what I'm talking about right?”

I said nothing.

“There was a moment there where I honestly thought that I was going to have to explain to The Duchess exactly why her honoured guest had died in a duel that I was adjudicating.”

I continued to say nothing as his eyes searched my face and he sighed, disappointed.

“After the Fish market, I nearly gave up myself. I remember thinking that if I died, then everyone would have someone to blame. I remember thinking that it would be ok to be thought of as a coward if it gave others peace. I even know which knife I would have used.”

He looked back at Natanis. “I dread the day that she grows bored of me and leaves me for good.” He said. “It was only her love that saved me and to think I used to despise non-humans.”

He sighed, almost a groan as he rubbed his head.

“You don't have to talk to me.” He said, “but talk to someone would you. Don't bottle it up.”

“I think there is a lot of talking in my future Lord Pamerin.” I told him. “Ariadne would not have it any other way. Neither will Kerrass I think.”

Palmerin nodded his acceptance of that. Then he smiled. “Lord Palmerin?” He grinned.

I laughed. “Habit.”

“Then I shall let you off tonight.”

“Freddie.” Emma came running over.

She stopped just shy of me and eyed Lord Palmerin significantly.

“I'll leave you to it.” He said, beating a strategic withdrawal.

Then I got glumped by my sister. For those not in the know, a Glump is a type of a hug as performed by a family member or loved one when they have been particularly worried about the person receiving the hug, or in the immediate aftermath of the person being hugged making the hugger particularly proud. It also happens after a long time apart where the two people have missed each other considerably. Although in my experience, that is actually rarer. It sometimes takes people a little while to get back into physical sync for that kind of comfort.

In short. The receiver of a Glump is often taken by surprise.

“Are you alright?” Emma demanded. “That was incredible. I've never seen you move like that.”

I frowned. “Wait, what? You've seen me...”

“No Freddie. “I've never seen you go to that kind of...”

“But you've seen me train.”

“I've seen you train but I've never seen you fight. I'm so proud of you, that was incredible. I honestly think that you could have beaten him if you...”

“Emma.” I took her hands in mine. It was a strange experience. I have always looked up to Emma. Always. She has always been more intelligent, more charming, better looking and better educated than me. On an intellectual level I was well aware that there were things where I knew more than she did but it was honestly quite shocking to have it thrown into my face to quite that extent.

“Emma, he was toying with me.” I told her.

“What?”

“There was absolutely no way that I was going to win a duel with that man. No way at all.”

“But you won that second point.” She was confused. She would later admit that she was just as confused and shaken by the change in dynamic as I was.

“Because he let me.” I told her. “He was wearing me out. The entire thing was an effort to discredit me yes, as well as us and the Knights of Francesca. But it was also a case of him showing Kerrass and I who's in charge around here.”

“I don't understand.” Emma complained.

“If I may,” Lord Palmerin interrupted. “I'm afraid that Lord Frederick is right. There was never going to be any way that Freddie was going to win a duel here. It was a statement by Sir Raoul as much as anything. He was telling Freddie that he could be beaten at any time. He had detected Freddie's dislike and had decided to put him in his place before it all got a bit too much.

“It was the same kind of thing that would happen in times gone by. The Knight would identify a rising threat in the Tournament lists. A young, up and coming, Knight would be winning a train of victories, earning young and pretty female admirers and people in the stands would say things like “In a few years that young man is going to be the next...”. So the knight, being threatened by the youth and talent. Knowing that in a year or two the youth would become a real competitor but has yet to achieve that edge. So the threatened, older knight arranges for a show duel, a tournament fight or whatever and then proceeds to put on a show so devestating that the younger knight would not even begin to consider rising up to threaten the established order.”

“But that's awful.” Emma complained. “In doing so they are causing stagnation.”

“Yes.” Palmerin agreed. “And it is the hope among some of us, that Knight Commander Syanna is taking steps to correct that in the Knights of Francesca. She certainly seems to be doing well at that so far, although I suppose that time will tell really. But that kind of thing was common. My hope is that the old way is dying out and we will all be the better for it.”

“Yes. I was pleased to see a certain espirit de corps in the jousting.” Emma agreed.

“And that is what will give these new knights the edge over the tricks and twists that people like Raoul, Morgan and company use. They are going to get better and better and better at the basic skills of the sword and the joust. So when they do meet...”

He laughed and shook his head. “I am biased, and I know it. But right now, there is no-one on the field that can rival my nephew. There is a hunger in Guillaume at the moment and I think that that will make all the difference. Not only does he want to win but he wants to make sure that what happened, will never happen again.”

The scholar in me reared it's head.

“What happened Lord Palmerin?”

“Oh didn't you know?”

“Well,” Emma interrupted. “The state of Toussaint before all this happened and before the Knights of Francesca took over. No woman will ever go missing again.”

“Quite right.” Palmerin was frowning in confusion.

Emma led me away before I could get into it any further.

“What's happening Emma?”

“Nothing. There are just some people over here that want to meet you.”

“Should I be worried?”

“That depends on what you might be worried about.”

I spoke to numerous people that night and I discovered, first hand, that the partygoers still remaining were split into two camps. The first were those people, a lot like Emma, who didn't really know that much about fighting or martial techniques. They had enjoyed the contest as the spectacle. They had bought into the pretenses and what they had seen was that I had gone in and been beaten by a serious opponent. Then there were a combination of factors for the second round where it was generally thought that I had “upped my game” while Sir Raoul had decided to play it safe. The contrast between this cautious approach from Sir Raoul as well as my increased willingness to take more risks had led to my being able to capitalize on Sir Raoul's reticence.

The third round was roundly considered an “awesome display of skill on both parts.” They also all seemed to agree that I had fallen off the stage by accident as I “lost myself” in the duel.

The second, much smaller group were a bit more knowledgable about the art of fighting and they were picking the duel apart in minute detail. They kept asking me questions about the tehcnical aspects of fighting with a spear and why I had chosen that as my weapon over a good sabre or Longsword. Then they went through the duel in minute detail. Dredging up moves and things that I had clean forgotten and they were, at the same time, very disappointed that I could not give a blow by blow commentary on what I was thinking about each different move and countermove in the middle of the fight. While at the same time, they were full of admiration at what they described as “unconscious competence”.

It was this second group that had seen the moment where I had been willing to die although they regarded it as a trick on my part. They believed me to have taken that moment deliberately as a way to bait Sir Raoul into making a mistake. Or they regarded it as a political thing, to make a point about the danger of these kinds of things.

The only people that had seen that moment as being genuinely suicidal seemed to be Kerrass, Ariadne and Lord Palmerin and at the time I was glad of that.

My feelings about the fact that neither Mark nor Emma had seen it was, at the same time, both a little hurtful but also a little relieving. I did not want to fight with either of them about the subject. Nor did I want to have to deal with any of their recriminations.

My manic energy started to fall off in the middle of these conversations and just as it had quickly arrived, it left with a similar speed. I felt my legs go wobbly and my head grow dizzy until I had to find a bench to sit down on. Ariadne came and sat next to me and rubbed my back as I took another dose of my medicine. The reason for my discomfort was explained away as being “reaction” from the conflict.

Which was not entirely a lie after all.

I was rescued from further socialising by the arrival of the carriage and Ariadne's insistence that I make myself scarce to get some “well deserved rest”. I will admit to protesting. I rather thought that I needed to stay really, I needed to speak to people, to be seen as not running away. I suppose that I must also admit that my pride wanted me to stay in place. To show that I wasn't beaten and that I wouldn't be beaten by this kind of thing.

But Ariadne was right. I climbed into the carriage and the last of my energy vanished taking my false and forced cheerfulness with it. My exhaustion finally overcame me and I remember leaning my head back while, at the same time, being astonished at the tears that were running down my face.

I was steered out of the carriage when we got back to the palace. I was, not for the first time, moving like a man that had aged before my time. I staggered about, hunched over and trembling violently. One my escort Knights had to help Ariadne support me into the palace and along to my room where Anne had already arranged to have a bath run for me.

How Anne knew that I was coming I do not know. Whether that is due to some kind of message being sent or, slightly more sinisterly, were Anne and Ariadne communicating in some other way. I'm not sure that I like the potential for the other matter. But I bathed and both Anne and Ariadne stayed with me. I was far too far gone to worry about being naked in the company of both women by this point.

When I was done, or rather when the bath water was moving more towards the “Cold” end of the Hot/Cold scale. Ariadne pulled me out of the bath and made me eat something and drink something.

Anne left the room, promising me that she would be back later.

“Right.” Ariadne said, sitting in one of the arm chairs carefully. “We're going to talk about the fact that you tried to kill yourself in the middle of that duel.”

I gaped at her.

She returned my gaze with cool calm. My mind had gone into... I would almost describe it as being a state of shock. I felt tired, fuzzy and wooly as though I wasn't really able to pay attention to it all.

“I.... uh.... don't know what you want me to say. I'm really tired though, can we not talk about this tomorrow.”

“I see.” She said. “No, it cannot be left. We must address, at least part of it, as soon as possible. Which means now. Do you remember it?”

I thought about this, casting my mind back. “Yes... I think so..... I think....” The words seemed to take an age to get to me. As though they were coming in fits and starts.

“It's alright.” She said., holding her hand up to forestall me. “My main concern was that you would deny it. That you would try and explain it away or make a joke. I might seem calm on the subject but I want you to know that I am relieved that that is not the case.”

I nodded. I was relieved as well now that I thought about it.

“I want you to know that I love you.” She said in that calm voice that she uses, mostly when she wants me to take something in carefully and properly. “I will not pretend that I am not bothered by it. I will not pretend that you didn't really frightened me while you were on that stage. There was a desperation in your mind and in your movements that I have not seen before. I've seen you stand up to much worse than that excreable little puke and you have been fine. But you were desperate and in that moment, you suddenly seemed so serene. You really scared me there Freddie.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry. I was scared but I am not angry with you. You are sick. It is distressing that, in your illness, your brain has thrown up suicide as an alternative to being in pain. But I want you to understand that your brain is lying to you in that.”

I nodded.

“We're going to talk about this some more in our ongoing lives together.” She told me. “As before, I want you to know that I don't judge you for it As I say, I am not angry. I know that this is your brain lying to you because you are sick. And when it happens again, because it will, I want you to come to me and talk to me about it. Can you do that?”

I nodded again.

“Promise me Freddie.”

“I promise.”

She relaxed minutely. It was only a small thing. Not all that long ago I would not have noticed it. I found this oddly reassuring.

“Then I have one last question before I call Anne back in and tuck you into bed where I expect you to sleep until you cannot sleep any more. I will, in fact, get Anne to suffocate you with her cleavage until you return to sleep if you get out of bed before I am satisfied that you are properly rested.”

“Kerrass said that he would do something similar.” I told her. “Although I would rather it be your cleavage.”

She smiled a little and her face softened. “As would I Freddie although,” a light of mischief came into her eyes. “I rather think that Anne's cleavage is better suited to the task than mine as her's is somewhat larger. But anyway...”

Her face became mask like again.

“I am going to ask you this question. I want you to think about it carefully. Take all the time that you need in order to answer. Do not be glib. Do not make a joke and do not be dismissive of the question. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Then here is my question. Do you want to die?”

She seemed to kind of collect herself in order to wait for the answer.

My first response was to tell her that of course I wanted to live. I even opened my mouth to say that but something in her steady gaze told me that this would be the incorrect response. She had told me not to be glib and that was the quick response. The easy response.

So I sat back and tried to persuade my very tired brain to work the way that it should which was a lot harder than it sounds. I ached. Not just from the duel and the sudden, unexpected exercise that it brought with it. But also the emotional reaction from everything that came with it. I, literally, ached with everything that had happened and I was tired as well. So it was a real effort to try and get my brain up to the correct level in order to actually consider what was being asked of me.

So I considered the question. I thought that I wanted to live. I thought that I wanted to get better and to be able to live my life. I wanted to read books, do some more travelling. I desperately wanted to marry Ariadne and to enjoy being close to the woman that I loved. But these were surface level thoughts. They were the common, swirling ambitions that had occupied my mind for months now.

But were they real? That was the question that occupied me. Were they real? Were they just some kind of delusion that I was feeding myself in order to force myself to carry on accordingly. Did I really want to marry Ariadne? I thought I did, but I didn't know. It was a kind of visceral response that was going on in my head. Of course I wanted to marry Ariadne but was this thought, too, a delusion. It was an automatic response. Of course I wanted to marry Ariadne.

So I decided to leave that alone for now and move onto other questions.

I skipped over my work. I had come to the end of a major project now and yes, I could carry on travelling with Kerrass in the short to long term as he pursued his life and path. I could chronicle his adventures but I was beginning to get the secret feeling that I had said just about everything that needed to be said on the subject of Witchers. The only way that I could find out more would be to find another Witcher of a different school and follow them around instead. I very much doubt that any Witcher would be happy having their lives put under the same kind of focus as I have put Kerrass' life. And I found that I didn't really want to do that either. I knew that there were plenty of villains out there who had worn the medallion of a Witcher and the risk of bumping into one of those instead of a more lenient and relaxed Witcher was not small.

I briefly entertained the possibility of following Lambert around for a year or two. Despite the fact that this would leave me a third wheel on the relationship between himself and Lady Keira Metz, I doubted that the two of us could spent more than a couple of hours in each other's company without feeling the distinct and urgent desire to strangle each other.

I had already decided that I would wait in Toussaint until Lady Yennefer returned from Cintra and after we had finished going over the mistakes in the first printing of our book. I was going to suggest that the two of us work on something else on the grounds that I had enjoyed working with her on this subject.

I still had no idea what I wanted to work with her on though.

So that, too, was something that I set aside.

I found that I was not looking forward to the coming few months. Emma had told me that I would need to be in Redania, at least in the vicinity of Coulthard lands and Oxenfurt for about three months in advance of the wedding to help with arrangements and things. I needed to meet people and order wine and just generally “be available in case something comes up.” It was, after all, going to be one of the “society events” of our times. Seen by many as a wedding that would unite the North and the South. Despite the fact that both Ariadne and I were technically of the North, but I had found that it was generally best not to mention that.

But the Empress was going to be there so it was going to be important. It was going to be vital and that, in and of itself, was terrifying.

So Kerrass and Ariadne and I were occupied here for another month, six weeks at the outside. At which point both Ariadne and Kerrass had gone so far as to suggest that they would both be better of with some time for themselves. Kerrass wanted to get back on the path. I knew that I would be welcome if I wanted to join him but given recent health problems, would that be a good idea? I didn't have an answer to that. Part of me, a not insignificant part of me rather thought that I would be much better if I stayed away. There were a lot of negative associations with travelling with Kerrass and I wasn't sure that poking a sleeping bear was a good idea.

Likewise with Ariadne. She wanted and needed to go back to Angral and spend some time there. Being the Lady of the manor. She was not as vital in Redania as I was but she would also be coming North for a considerable period before the wedding itself. Again, I knew that I would be welcome to go with her. But she had also expressed some doubts as to that. My feeling was that she rather wanted some time to herself.

So then I decided that I should throw myself into my work. But what was the work that I wanted to throw myself into. A new project with Ariadne. A continuation of the work on Kerrass. The advisory project to the Empress had stalled while the Lodge of Sorceresses were working on different mutations until the found ways that it could be viable.

So what would I do.

I realised that I was thinking round in circles. I looked up at Ariadne who was watching me carefully. I had gotten away from the proper question here and I needed to refocus. Did I want to live?

I decided to work backwards. Of course I wanted to live. So why?

Why did I want to live?

One of those reasons was sitting in front of me, to all intents and purposes, waiting to see if I was going to break her heart. I didn't want to do that which was one of the major reasons why I was more than a little convinced that I wanted to live.

But did I want to live because I wanted to live, or did I want to live because I didn't want to hurt Ariadne? That was a question that I didn't have the answer for.

I thought back and worked to avoid Ariadne for a moment.

I will cut through a bit here. I worked through all the people that I knew and loved. I thought about how my death would upset people and dismissed those lines of logic for being, essentially, the same as the thinking about Ariadne. Saying that I wanted to live because I didn't want to upset Mark, Kerrass, Emma and Sam was just the same as saying that I wanted to live because I didn't want to upset Ariadne. So I should set that aside.

I thought back.

It was hard to think in this way. I had a headache and I was reeling from the drugs, alcohol and the leftover adrenaline reaction from the fight. I desperately wanted to go to sleep and for a moment I allowed that feeling to come over me. I stopped fighting it for a while and let it happen. But Ariadne wanted an answer tonight. I forced my eyes open and got back to work.

Why did I want to live?

I remembered a place in Northern Redania and a campsite under a rock where I spoke, for the first time I think, with Kerrass about how upset and distressed I was. He told me to work from the little things. That he used to like an apple with the sunrise. That he looked forward to simple pleasures. A good meal, some nice wine, some hearty beer. A song, a dance, some good company and the presence of a warm and enthusiastic lover.

There was something to that. What did I want? What did I really want. Leave Ariadne aside for just a moment as my thoughts regarding her were cyclical and pointless. What did I want?

I let my mind rest on the question for a while. What did I want?

Not marriage... I mean I did want that and everything that comes with that. But that would lead me down the path of thinking about Ariadne again....

It dawned on me that a lot of my thought processes was taken up by Ariadne. Not a bad thing necessarily but I couldn't tie this into her. She would not be satisfied with an answer where I said that I lived for her. I mean I did, but that wasn't enough.

Was it?

I didn't know.

So what did I want.

For reasons that I did not know, I thought about Princess Dorn. Sleeping Beauty as was. I don't know how I got to that point. I don't know how I ended up thinking about her. I remember a few flashes of thought processes but not all of them. I remember thinking about Marion. About the graveyard and making love in an orchard.

But then I remembered Princess Dorn. About how a sixteen, now seventeen, year old girl had withstood the deaths of everyone and everything that she had known. How she had survived horrors that the rest of us couldn't even begin to understand. To survive all of that and to continue to survive to care for her people. To love her country and the people in it.

And then I remembered a half-sincere promise that I made to myself. I was going to make sure that, even if nothing else came of it, the Princess and Kerrass would have a night together. He loves her. I know that. She loves him. I know that too. So if I could just get them together, in the same place, for a short period of time where neither has any other things to worry about or people to please or social considerations to worry about. Then I was confident that nature would take it's course. Yes, the Princess would need to wait a year or two for Kerrass to stop thinking of her as a little girl, but it was going to happen.

I was determined. I had spent a not small amount of time imagining the sheepish and delighted looks that they would have as they emerged into the inn common room, or from the tent or the.... wherever. Red faced, embarrassed as those of us that know the pair of them laugh, cheer and tease from the side lines. I imagined the two of them standing together, dressed in yesterday's clothes as they smiled sheepishly at each other as they were forced to admit, in public, that they loved and had loved each other.

They would be holding hands.

But now my imagination was off. I was going to campaign to ensure that Emma and Laurelen could also get married in some way. The North is still a Polytheistic place so I felt relatively confident that I could find a religion, somewhere, that would agree to marry a woman to a woman. I wanted to be there when that happened. I kind of wanted to be the one to give away the bride even though I knew that in such a situation, Mark and Sam would be ahead of me in that queue.

I imagined the dress that she would wear, or the suit, and the delight that she would show when I told her away that she and Laurelen could be together formally and legally.

I also wanted to see Helfdan marry Queen Cerys. I looked forward to grilling Svein on the days of the courtship and listening to the, undoubtedly, many tales of how that all came about and I wanted to stand on the battlements of Helfdan's keep when it was finished and know that I had helped make that happen.

I had kept myself from getting to invested in the prospects of having children on the grounds that it was far from entirely likely that an Elder Vampire and a Human would be able to procreate but I could easily see myself adopting. But I still wanted to have children in my life. I wanted to prove that I could be a more loving and caring parent than either of my own parents had been.

I wanted to meet those people and see who they would become.

I wanted to see Sam triumphant. I wanted to see him standing on the walls of Kalayn castle and look out over his demesne with pride.

And I... I wanted to be there for Mark when he died. I wanted to be holding his hand and to squeeze it so that he knew that I was there. I wanted him to feel it as he went into whatever it was that comes next and to know, with absolute certainty that he was loved.

That I loved him.

It was that thought, the thought of Mark on his deathbed that was like a dagger ripping into my heart and I sobbed in pain.

It was a literal pain, as though a dagger of ice had been stabbed into my heart. I know that that sounds like a cliché and it is. But this is one of those places where the Cliche is true. That is what it felt like. I struggled to breathe and I sobbed again as I doubled over with the pain of it.

“It's alright Freddie.” Ariadne told me. “It's alright.”

She held me as I sobbed and wept. The fear and the awful terror of what would have happened. All the things that I would have missed if I had been acceptable in my attempt to end myself. I shuddered and sobbed and wept for a long time.

“I want to live.” I told her somewhere in the middle. “I don't want to die.”

“I know.” She said, holding me tight as I howled into her embrace. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Like before, I calmed very suddenly into a dull kind of whimpering attitude and mind set. The sudden attack of hysteria leaving me wrung out like a cloth. I leant back and stretched out my legs that seemed to pop and crack uncomfortably. Ariadne had commandeered a food stool so that she could sit closer to me and hold my hand.

“I don't understand.” I said after some time. “I don't get it. I thought I was getting better. I've felt worse than I do now and I've had more intense negative experiences this winter. The night that Kerrass told me about Phineas in the sheep farm would be one. Why am I suddenly trying to kill myself. I've never considered suicide other than as a kind of hysterical thing when I was younger and that was more to draw attention to things, as a way for me to get back at Father or Edmund of something.”

Ariadne said nothing.

“But here I am. I thought I was getting better. I thought I was getting stronger and that I could stop worrying about this kind of thing. I would never kill myself, self slaughter is a sin so why am I suddenly doing this?”

Ariadne took a deep breath.

“I don't know.” She told me. “You would need to know much more about how the mind works than I do to be able to answer that question. I know that it's been said before but it's worth saying again, even if it's only so that you can hear it. You've been through a lot. And I, personally, don't believe that you are the kind of person who was supposed to go through that kind of thing. But you should never be surprised by what your brain throws out at you.”

“So what do I do?”

“I was not joking before. This is going to come up again.”

“My brain is a creature of habit.” I quoted. “Yes, I remember.”

“But now it thinks it has another solution to your problems. Another course of action that it could use to get you out of your situations. So this is going to come up again. I'm sorry.”

“So what do I do?” I asked again.

“You must fight it.” She said. “Treat it like an enemy. The suicidal thought. Treat it like some kind of enemy that is going to try and sneak up on you and catch you by surprise. You must guard against it, watch out for it and when it rears it's ugly head you must fight it, suppress it in the moment and then make yourself safe. Remove the tools that you might use to act on the impulse if it gets particularly bad and if you can't do any of these things. Then you must call for help. Do not hesitate in that. Do not flinch. It is an enemy and it is nothing to be ashamed of.”

I nodded but I don't think I really accepted that. I still don't think I've really accepted that.

“The real danger,” She went on, “is in situations like today when the thought... the enemy, creeps up on you when you are overwhelmed by other things. And before you know it, you're acting on it unconsciously.”

“You're saying that I should avoid situations of high stress? I'm getting married soon and I hear that's one of the most stressful situations that you can be in.”

She laughed at the feeble joke.

I did not.

“I think we both know that avoiding stressful situations is going to be all but impossible. Especially for people in our positions.” She told me. “What you can do, what you have to do and learn to keep doing. Is that, especially in those situations. You need to guard yourself. Protect yourself against the thing when it comes. Because it will come again.”

“So I must be vigilant.” I asked, the events of the day and the evening were waying on me now. I wanted to sleep so desperately that I could barely keep my eyes open. I longed for a blanket or something.

“You must be vigilant and you must stay strong.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“And it will be. You will also not be entirely successful. So on those days where you do not feel particularly strong. You must see to it that there are people with you that can help you to be strong. I won't lie Freddie. It's going to be hard and some days, it is going to feel like it's impossible. And it is on those days in particular that you must guard yourself. And when all else fails. Call for me and I will come.”

I felt tears pricking at the corner of my eyes again and just for a moment, I despised myself for that weakness.

“Do you promise?” I asked without really meaning to. My voice sounded like the whimpering of a small child and my self-loathing deepened for just a moment.

“I promise,” she said. “And don't be hard on yourself. Never forget that this is something that happened to you. Something that was done to you and that is being done to you. I love you and I will never think less of you for some of that.”

“Emma and Mark may disagree.” I don't know why I thought that. But I did, and I still do a little even though they have both claimed differently. I am sorry.

“I love your siblings a great deal. But Mark is a priest of the Eternal Flame. He does his best but there are always going to be things that he believes above all others. He has worked hard to counter the non-human hate and in order to accept your sister's sexual preferences. This is not something that he has learned to deal with yet.”

I waited for a moment to see if she had an excuse for Emma.

“What about Emma?” I wondered when it became clear that no excuse was going to be forthcoming. Ariadne laughed. “For all of the fact that your sister likes to flout tradition, she is actually quite conservative in some of her leanings. She adjusts when she gets challenged on that but even so...”

She sighed. “Your sister is just as much a product of your upbringing as you are.”

I nodded my acceptance of that.

“You're wilting.” Ariadne told me. “I will call Anne and then we must get you to bed. And in the morning, I want you to sleep until you can't possibly sleep any more. I will defend you from the rest of society if I must but you should be warned that I will get Anne to lie on top of you if I have to. I was serious when I said that I would get her to smother you with her breasts if it means that you will stay in bed where I want you to be.”

I allowed myself to laugh at that.

She kissed me on the forehead and I was, finally, allowed to climb into bed.

And strangely, despite everything that had been discussed. Despite everything that had been gone through. Going to bed felt really good. It took me a while to sleep. Not because there were too many thoughts going through my head. But rather because I found that I enjoyed the warmth and the comfort of it. It was like that moment where you climb into bed at the end of a long cold day and you don't sleep because you want to enjoy the comfort of it. That warm little shell of blankets that you construct for yourself, a little bubble that protects you from the rest of the world.

Anne climbed into bed after a small conversation with Ariadne and took me in her arms and it was, eventually, the rhythmic sound of her breathing that lulled me to sleep.

I woke slowly and reluctantly. The feeling of the previous evening had not left and, with a certain amount of relish, I recalled the instructions that Ariadne had left me and I allowed myself to rise from sleep slowly. I was warm, I had barely moved during the night and Anne still slept nearby so I just allowed myself to rest. It was luxurious and, for reasons best known to myself, it felt ridiculously decandent. Every time I felt the need to open my eyes, I asked myself why I felt that feeling and if it was due to some kind of sense of duty or desire to be getting up and being about the place, I would ruthlessly squash the impulse.

Then I would lie back, allow my eyes to fall closed again, and continue my doze.

I felt better. I couldn't have told you why I felt better. But I felt as though an unpleasant chore had been completed and I knew that that same chore would not have to be done again for a long time in the future.At some point, Anne rolled over and hugged me tightly before kissing my forehead.

“You awake?” She wondered.

“Hummphh.” I told her.

“Hungry?” She wondered.

“Unnghh.” I grunted intelligently.

“Well I'm instructed to keep you in bed for as long as possible.” She told me. “Normally I would employ some feminine wiles to do so, but I think, in this case, you might do better with some food.”

“Blurggh.” I said, wanting to keep up the sparkling repartee.

She laughed and let herself out.

I continued to doze. It felt like I was floating on a cloud and I just lay there. Allowing my thoughts and the aches and pains fall backwards into the bed beneath me. I have no idea how long I was like that. No idea. But if the idea of Paradise after we die is not an eternity spent in peace with those people that are closest to my heart. Then I hope that it is like this. Gently lying in the warm and the peace and allowing myself to drift.

The slow and gentle peace that I was enjoying was broken by the sounds of raised voices in the next room.I want to be clear. The peace was not shattered. It wasn't broken apart like a vase or a pitcher thrown at the floor. It was more like the gentle tapping of a hammer on the outside of an egg shell.

At first there were just minute cracks that formed. Then, slowly, so slowly that I barely noticed them. Those cracks began to spread. A bit further than that those self same fractures grew and branched out until I realised that I was awake properly now.

I was no longer lying on a cloud, or floating on a peaceful lake. Instead I was lying on a mattress where the sheets needed taking off to be cleaned. I was no longer at peace with the world but I was hungry and had an increasingly intense urge to urinate.

And much to my horror, I was wide awake.

I rose from the bed, pulled a robe and went to have a look out the window to see if I could see what time it was.

It was early. Not as early as some of the times that I've had to be up while following Kerrass on the path. But it was still far too early for someone who had been ordered, on pain of smothering, to stay in bed.

The voices were getting louder.

I realised that they had been getting louder for a while.

“Fuck it.” I said and stomped over to the chamber door which I wrenched open and stormed through to the common area.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS...” I trailed off as I beheld the sight before me. “Going on.” I finished.

The first thing that I saw was Knight Commander Syanna, wearing full, business armour. By which I mean it was without any of the pagentry or ornamentation that would often be associated with the Knight Commander of the order of Saint Francesca.

She had the look of someone that hadn't slept the previous night. After you've seen it occasionally in others and more than once in a mirror or on the reflection on the lake, it's not something that you can easily mistake for something else.

She also had her hand on her sword hilt.

With her were another half a dozen knights arrayed on either side who had more than their hands on their swords. One or two of them had even gone so far as to half draw their weapons.

Between these knights and I stood Emma, with Laurelen on one side, and Mark who both appeared to be red faced and angry.

I scanned the room. Ariadne was up and standing closer to where I was. She had turned to look at me when I walked in before turning back towards the knights. She wore a calculating, calm expression.

I could see Anne. She was behind the line of knights looking worried. Another knight was facing her with his hand outstretched in a restraining manner in the way a watchman stands in front of a horse and shouts “Halt.” She had a tray with something that looked awfully like my breakfast on it.

She looked scared.

I looked for Kerrass. I would decide on how frightened I was depending on how he was behaving. He was leaning on the mantlepiece of the hearth with one hand. He was staring at the floor and he looked resigned.

Unhappy, but resigned.

I could not help but notice that he had both swords on his back. Something that I hadn't seen him do for quite a while.

My entrance seemed to have shattered the situation. A kind of feeling where everyone had assumed that things would go one way but my appearance had utterly changed the direction of everyone's thinking. So now, they were all frantically trying to figure out which way the situation was going to go now.

So the only thing to do, really, was to continue to behave in an unexpected way.

“I am under orders,” I said, moving over to the table, “to get as much rest as possible. I have even been threatened with dire consequences should I try and and wake up too early. Something that you all seem so eager to undermine.”

Anne, of all people, read my intent and put the tray of breakfast in front of me. I nodded thanks as I took a piece of bread and started to butter it before looking back up and surveying the room.

Everyone else, other than Kerrass and Ariadne, seemed to be in a state of calming themselves down.

“So what's so important that it involves interrupting my sleep. I am sure that Ariadne would like to know the answer to the question.

Syanna took a deep breath and turned to me.

“Lord Frederick, I...”

“Don't do it.” Emma snarled.

“I request and require you to come with me.”

I felt my eyebrows rise.

I trust that regular readers know what “Request and Require” means.

“I am a nobleman of Redania.” I said, thinking furiously and hiding it by applying a slice of cheese to my bread. “and an honoured guest. With all due respect, Knight Commander, I am not sure that you have the authority to Request and Require me to follow you to the brothel.”

A joke was the wrong tactic as it turned out.

“I will arrest you if I have to.” Syanna snarled.

“Try it.” Ariadne hissed and the room seemed to darken slightly.

The swords nearly came out again.

Things were tense.

“The fuck is going on?” I asked in amazement as I gaped at the room. “Please come with me.” Syanna snapped, eyeing Ariadne closely.

“No.” I said. “No I won't. Not until you tell me what's going on.”

Syanna turned and looked at me and her eyes widened in surprise. “You don't know what's...”

“Know what.”

“He doesn't need to...” Mark began. “He has been sick and worrying about....”

“Know what?” I snarled.

Syanna sighed.

“Lord Frederick.... Freddie.” She said, somewhat calmer....

“Please don't...” Emma began.

Syanna ignored her. “There have been a series of attacks over the last few days.”

“What kind of attacks?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“Rape.” She said. “Murder.”

“Surely you don't think that I...” I asked in horror. “I am pretty sure that I can account for where I've been....”

“No.” Syanna raised her hand in an effort to calm me.

“Under the gaze of your Knights no less.”

“No, we do not suspect you. But we do need your help?”

I looked at everyone. Emma and Mark wouldn't meet my gaze. Ariadne was frowning. Kerrass had barely moved.

“There have been sightings...” Syanna began before taking a breath. “Eye witnesses are giving accounts that suggest.... Dammit.”

“They think that Jack has come back Freddie.” Kerrass told me, looking up.

I stared at him for a while before turning back to Syanna who nodded.

“Jack?” I asked.

Syanna nodded. “Or someone, or something like him.”

I closed my eyes and leaned back.

Then I shuddered.

“Jack.” I said again, sounding out the name. “Well Fuck”