Was I unwise to provoke him? Maybe, but the arrogant little prick needed to be taken down a peg or two. When that happens and you find yourself as the man of the moment, then you take what opportunities you can get.

Lord Velles spoke up later in the afternoon. He gave off the air of a man who was quietly and patiently waiting his turn to speak, but would not let go of the right to do so. As though he was some kind of long suffering martyr that we could not possibly understand.

Although I had, originally, liked Lord Velles as a merchant and a former soldier, I had since found that that was something of an affectation. A persona that he had put on when dealing with Sam. Now that he was out of having to convince my brother to give him the trading monopoly on this or that, then he had become a man of the court. Witty, urbane, educated and charming. I found this change to be utterly false and I was liking the man less and less.

I was also sure that he hadn’t served at the line at all. I was confident that there was some military action in his past. There was something about the way that he moved around that spoke of him being used to wear armour. Proper armour too, not the kind of thing that can happen on merchant’s wagons or anything that a regular merchant might wear. Nor did he move with the attitude of a man who wore armour because it was trendy. He had fought in armour, lived and breathed and eaten and gone to the Jacks in armour. He had probably even slept in armour.

Yes, it can be done. But only in extreme circumstances and I would advise to do it for short periods at a time only. Even leather armour can leave you waking up to feel stiff, smelly and ungainly. Armour is not supposed to be slept in.

But he seemed to have these personas that he had crafted from out of his own head. Personas that he could take on depending on who he was talking to at any given time. He had been the Knight and the soldier to Sam, the ironic, funny and learned man of the world to me. But now he was among courtiers and he was… well, as I say, he was urbane, charming, educated and witty.

I wondered if he did it on purpose. If he had sat around the camp-fire at various times and figured out who he needed to be in various situations. Or, possibly more frightening, did it come easy and natural to him.

I wondered which was his real face and his real personality.

But then I had a much scarier thought. Is this how Emma lives? I have no idea and I have not, since, dared to ask her.

“I want to discuss matters of trade.” He said calmly as though we were all doing him a favour by listening to him. That talking about this kind of thing was an unpleasant job but that someone had to do it. “Last night, a man by the name of Bernhard Gunthersson from Kaedwen was trading his goods, or rather he was trying to trade his goods. His route brings things down from Kaedwen, through Aedirn, the twin kingdoms of Lyria & Rivia and eventually to Toussaint for the winter. THis is where he spends his winters while the passes are closed because he finds that the climate here agrees with his health.”

There was some murmuring, some of agreement, but also some of boredom.

“Bernhard is a good friend of mine, he owns a small residence on the outside of town which he rents out during the summer months and until recent events, he would have believed himself to have friends in Toussaint. Indeed, he vouchsafed to me that he considers himself more a man of Toussaint than of Kaedwen now, or at least he did until the night before last.

“My friend Bernhard was travelling down the road leading to the Cockatrice, he had some samples of some of the Northern Meats and cheeses with him which, although certain members of this hallowed chamber might disagree, are among the finest cured cheeses and meats that the continent could see. He was wanting to secure an order with the owner of the Cockatrice before renting a room and carrying on his way, filling his order books before beginning his journey to return to the North and his suppliers.”

If I can say nothing else about Lord Velles, he is a gifted speaker and story teller.

“As he was riding along he was, obviously, wrapped for the cold air and as he rode, openly, with a lit lantern to find his way, a group of bandits jumped out from behind some trees and accosted my friend. They dragged him from his horse, beat him within an inch of his life and then hung him from one of the nearby trees. The only reason that he survived at all was that the branch was not sturdy enough to support his weight. Indeed, he was lucky that it supported him long enough for the bandits to flee with his money pouch, leaving the actual valuable goods behind. But not long enough that the extended hanging would kill him.

“Even then, the cold might have killed him at that time of the night and it was only by chance that a local Shepherd had heard the cries for help and had summoned the courage to go to Bernhard’s aid.”

There was some rumbling.

“Bernhard will eventually be fine. He is currently resting under the care of a professional Doctor that he has been able to hire. He has a lot to recover from. One of his legs broke with the fall from the tree, rope burns around his neck, broken jaw, several shattered teeth, broken cheek bone, several cracked ribs, numerous small and large cuts about his person, blood loss, exposure and some kind of head injury which means that he can’t stand up straight for long without vomiting.

“He will be bed-ridden for some weeks to come and his business may never recover. Certainly, Bernhard is unlikely to want to come back to Toussaint.”

“Get on with it.” Someone shouted. “Make your point,” Another voice said.

The military man came forward from Velles again and he raised his voice over the dissenting voices. “Whether the members of this court like it or not, Toussaint runs on commerce. The lifeblood of this nation is not it’s wine, nor is it it’s people or it’s Knights. People cannot eat fine deeds, honour or Glory. Your primary wealth comes from wine but that wealth is used to buy food and import it from elsewhere. You have some crops other than grapes, it is true, but there are no fields of wheat as far as the eye can see, so that must be imported. The reason you can all live the lives that you lead is due to the trade that men like Bernhard bring here.”

“It is now I who wish you to get to the point Lord Velles.” The Duchess called from her throne.

“My point, Your Grace, is that earlier I called these people bandits. They called themselves something else. They called themselves the Vigilance Committee of Toussaint. They were out seeking the killer because they had little faith that you would be able to do the same. What, may I ask, are the Knights of Saint Francesca doing about these people.”

Syanna, although she might have handled other things badly, handled this brilliantly.

“I thank the honoured gentleman for reminding me of this problem.” She said. “The incident is well known to me and if you will permit me a moment to refresh myself on the details.”

She rooted around in one of the pouches at her side and produced one of many pieces of paper.

“You missed out a number of details from your account. Lord Gunther of Kaedwen had been advised not to travel at night by the Knight that was patrolling the area near where he was staying the previous night, but Lord Gunther insisted that he would be fine. Indeed, he was warned of this very risk. That shepherd who took him in did exactly the right thing and he, rightly, deserves the praise. The Shepherd gave Lord Gunther to the care of his mother before rushing off to find a Knight and pass on the story. The Knight sent a Doctor and rode for the Cockatrice where the party that had lynched Lord Gunther were celebrating their Knights work with a few flagons, paid for by Lord Gunther’s purse. They were then arrested and placed under guard. Some of them had already returned home and we have since picked up two of those three and the third is hiding out in the woods. He will not last long before cold and hunger will force him to return to civilization. These men await the punishment properly due their crimes.

“In the meantime, your point that these five dead women are not the only victims of what is happening in the countryside at the moment is well made. Nor are they the only crimes going on in Toussaint. Last night alone, Eugenie the potter’s wife finally snapped after years of abuse and killed her husband with a heavy swing of a frying pan. It took her two swings to do the job properly and as he lay there, bleeding into the rushes of her home, she clutched the son who her husband had been beating with a switch to her chest and told her son that he could hurt neither of them any more.

“Jean the Miller was out walking with one of Lord Kressick’s chambermaids. He had hopes that she would accept his offer of marriage as he had already asked her father’s permission to pay court. He had started his campaign on the girl’s heart with the traditional bunch of wild-flowers. This until one of Lord Kressick’s footmen, jealous of the chambermaid’s attentions not being on him, found the young couple and beat his rival with a fire poker.

“Last night alone, as well as Lady de Launfal’s death, there was another murder. Four beatings with implements, two women were assaulted, there were a number of tavern brawls that Captain de la Tour’s people had to break up. A bandit attack, on a group of travelling circus performers. Eight robberies and attempted kidnapping. All of which were pursued and addressed by my Knights and those matters that are not yet resolved will be done so shortly.

“Yet you choose this time to remove me from the field and haul me over the coals for my handling of this one thing.”

She shook her head.

“Who has the next question.”

It just went on and on. I found myself wondering, increasingly, as to why either Syanna or the Duchess allowed it all to keep going. Leaving aside the colossal waste of time that all of this was causing, there was also the factor that if this was telling anything new about any potential killers, then we had learned what we needed to learn a long time ago. The attacks at Syanna were personal, vindictive and petulant. Even while they were also stupid, ill-informed and whiny.

“I think that there is an aspect for this tragedy that hasn’t been addressed yet.” Sir Alain spoke up. Not the first time that he had done so but it was the first time that he had said anything of his own accord and had more than a couple of things to say. “We are dancing around this possibility, we are ignoring the fact that Lord Frederick is involved in the investigation. We all know why that might be the case and we all know what the people are afraid of. Like it or not.”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“No-one else seems to want to ask the question so I will do it for you all. Is this killer Jack?”

The court rumbled as was properly portentous for the question.

“All avenues of investigation are being pursued.” Syanna said without allowing herself to be drawn.

“This is a simple question.” Alain pursued. “Is it Jack or isn’t it?”

“As I say, all avenues…”

“Yes yes, we heard you the first time, but let me, instead, ask you this. What is there to investigate? It is either Jack or it isn’t Jack. The killer is either supernatural or isn’t supernatural. If the killer is not supernatural then I agree, confidentiality is vital as anyone could be a suspect, but if he is not. If he’s a man possessed, just as he was last time, then we have an entirely new problem.

“I, like many here, have read the accounts of what happened the night that Laughing Jack was captured, the night where the flower of Chivalry was crushed beneath Jack’s heel. Not on a battlefield as those men deserved, but at a common fishmarket of all places. After reading that, I did my own research on the Jack figure, reading Lord Frederick’s accounts, it seems clear that the current killings all fit the pattern.

“Several deaths, a theme between the deaths. A swordsman of frightening talent, a grim sense of humour, and a sense of honour accordingly. So is it Jack or isn’t it?

He paused for effect.

“You don’t need to answer the question. I know what you are going to say. You will, once again, tell us that all avenues of investigation are being pursued. But my question is this. It’s either Jack or it isn’t. If it isn’t Jack, then why are you taking so long to find the killer? If it is Jack? Then why haven’t you mustered every sword, every bow and every Knight that you can lay your hands on?

“Should we prepare for that possibility? Those of us with the arms and the means to use them, must we be prepared that, possibly before too much longer, you will blow your horn and we must go forth to face such a monster? Even the most trivial military mind knows that such things need preparation and time.

“So is it Jack or not?”

Syanna didn’t answer. Of course she didn’t. After Alain’s little speech, which I rather thought had been written for him by someone, the crowd erupted into questions and demands to know the truth. Syanna sighed and did her best to ignore it. But she struggled. Of course she struggled. Anyone would struggle under that kind of onslaught. But she kept her cool and refused to be drawn out. And later when someone called her on the fact that she hadn’t answered any of the questions during this particular period of questioning, she pointed out that she had struggled to hear and distinguish one voice from among all the others and politely asked that people ask their questions one at a time.

After Alain’s play which, although I don’t necessarily think that his speech was written by himself, I do have to acknowledge that he played the part of concerned citizen and battle ready Knight with grace and success. Things started to come to a head. The mood of the courtroom started to shift.

I have spoken, many times it seems, on my schooling on the art of being a courtier. And it is an art. Some of it can be learned and if you practise enough then you can become good at it. Some people have the talent for it and my tutor said of me that although I have a little talent, I did not have the heart of a true politician and courtier.

He didn’t say that. He said that I had too much heart to be a proper courtier.

But he said that there comes a moment in a courtroom when things are going to come to a head. When the head of that courtroom is about to make a decision, or a declaration. Things are about to start happening and one of the many aspects of making your living as a courtier is to be able to spot these times as they start to happen.

He said watch for those people that leave. Whether through fear that they might lose the exchange, disgust at the process, or because they have no desire to see the final parts of things.

He told me to watch the people on the edges of the room. The wall-flowers. The men and women that lean against walls, pillars and tables, nursing a goblet or a small plate of food. Watch them and when they carefully set aside their plates or their goblets, that is the time that it is happening.

Watch who pushes their way to the front of the crowd. Watch who stands next to them and note who is making the speech when the mood shifts.

Watch for the moment when the head of the court moves past interest, gets through the boredom and starts to look angry. When the one person in the courtroom, be they Emperor, King or minor noble, the one one person who has nothing to fear of what is going to happen in the coming moments. When that person starts looking at the exits with a strange kind of longing. As though they already know what they’re going to do. They know what decision is going to be made. That they’ve heard enough and that everything else is just noise.

“Watch for all these things.” He told me. “Because these are the moments when history happens.”

History didn’t really happen in that courtroom that day. The conclusion was predictable, even boring. No new information was given, no summons, no call to arms.

But I watched, as I had been trained to do.

Sir Gregoire left with an air of resigned disgust.

Sir Raoul passed his small goblet of wine to a passing servant.

Lord Velles was the man that was speaking as the mood began to shift.

And it was Sir Morgan the black hand who moved to the front of the crowd.

The Duchess stopped examining her fingernails in the minutest detail and her face seemed to harden into the marble that will, undoubtedly, preserve her likeness for centuries to come.

“I want to talk about you Knight Commander.” Sir Morgan said.

“Me, Sir Morgan?” Syanna’s response could have cut steel.

“Indeed.”

If that exchange had happened in some kind of bar-room then there would have been a moment where people pulled apart between Syanna and Sir Morgan. There would have been an avenue between them so that when the fight started, people could cheer, restrain, wince and take bets.

“Indeed, I want to call into question your suitability.”

“Oh that old chestnut.”

“Ah, but your recent actions have thrown “that old chestnut” into stark relief. What are you Madam?”

“I am not entirely sure. However I know that I am not a Madam, either by profession or by title as I am not married.”

It had the feeling of an old joke that had been tread and retread again, over and over again in fact.

“I, too, know what you are not. You command an order of Knights but you are not a Knight yourself.”

“And if you wish to bring out those old arguments again, same as you did last time you tried to assassinate me in the political arena, then I shall bring up the same counters. Change needed to happen…”

“Yes. I remember the cut and parry, same as you do. You will argue, not entirely incorrectly, that change needed to happen. Indeed, that change was forced on us by foreign powers…”

“Careful Sir Morgan.” Syanna’s voice was hard. “We are part of the Nilfgaardian Empire whether we all like it or not. If we honestly tried to argue with the Empress then not only would they roll over us without noticing but Toussaint would no longer exist. I hardly think that the Empress counts as foreign.”

There was some shifting in the crowd. There was a general feeling that Syanna had won a point.

“Change was necessary.” Sir Morgan said. “But why you? You are not a Knight. You are not even a soldier. You have only spent a fraction of your life in Toussaint and when you did return, you did your best to kill vast swathes of our people including some of our most renowned Knights.”

“You know the answer to that question. Same as I do.” Syanna fired back. “Yes I am an outsider. But because of that, I love Toussaint all the more. The blood of Toussaint is in my veins. I love Toussaint. I adore it. I live and breathe it.”

“Yet you killed so many of it’s citizens.”

“No.” Syanna said. “No, I did not.”

“Oh, come now. Your…”

“No.” Syanna’s voice rose. “I will admit to responsibility for some of it. I will admit that I used an assassin to kill those Knights. Men who had beaten me, raped me even though I understand that many had changes of heart in later life and became exemplars of their oaths. I will also admit that my childhood hatred matured into unreasoning madness. But I did not kill those people. I tried to go to Detlaff to explain, even though I knew it might have meant my death.

“I will admit guilt. But my mistake was to involve the Vampire in the first place. I even, specifically, told him not to harm anyone else in the instructions that he was sent. I could not have known what he did.

“But this too, is an old argument. Sooner or later it will be agreed that there are many people to blame for the tragedy that unfolded that night. Good men and women refused to give the Vampire what he wanted,”

“Including me.” The Duchess intoned from her throne.

“I should have known what would have happened to Detlaff after it was found out. If our parents had not decided that they only wanted one daughter to help inherit the throne and decided to get rid of me as I was inconvenient. It keeps going back and going back.”

“But what…”

“I know what you are going to say.” Syanna interrupted. You are going to wonder why the Knights of Francesca were entrusted to me when I am not a Knight. What experience do I have in Knighthood? I will respond to that that I have none, except that I have seen the worst of what Knighthood has to offer and so I do, at least, know about how to prevent that.

“You will say, “yes but why me?” To which the answer will always be the same. No matter how many times you, or anyone else here asks it. The Duchess asked for help in forming the new order and when others stepped forward, everyone said the same. “We need more honour, more chivalry, better arms and armour. More selective, reserved only for the fittest and the finest.” Then my sister would say words, much more flowery words to be sure, but words to the effect of “That’s wonderful, but how do we do all of that and the only person that gave her a response other than “Knights Errant only more Erranty” was me.

“You will then move onto my lack of investigative experience. I will respond that I have worked under the tutelage of Colonel Duberton and the 4th who make their living out of this kind of work. I would say that I have many experienced Knights that put aside their misgivings, joined the Knights Francesca and are now teaching what they know. I would say that Captain De La Tour, as good and fine a man and Knight as I have the honour to know, works with me closely and his men and mine work together regularly and often.

“You will then throw my lack of military experience in my face. I will tell you that I led a bandit, mercenary company for many years before their destruction at the hands of Damien and Geralt. You will seek to use the stigma that is commonly attached to that profession. Often with good reason I will admit. I will say that experience is experience and that I have more battlefield experience than many here. Including you Sir Morgan. I would also argue that, again, I have many good and noble men and women under my command that can make up for any of my shortcomings.”

She finished up, seeming a little out of breath.

“You and I have been through this before.” She said. “In fact, you and I, and many others here have been over this and over this and over this until we are growing bored of it. Sing a different tune.”

“Ah, but I have a different tune now. Or rather I have an extra verse to the song.”

“Oh? I am positively moist with excitement.” Syanna replied.

The court shuddered with the naked scorn in Syanna’s voice. Sir Morgan simply smirked, obviously well used to Syanna’s barbs and… I’m gonna call it a “way” with words.

“Excitement might be the wrong word. My question is this. “Why haven’t you caught this killer yet?”

“There are a number of reasons.” Syanna retorted. “Not least because I have just wasted this afternoon and early evening standing here and answering questions rather than being out there and working on finding the answers that we all want.”

“You are being glib and dismissive and it does neither you, the Duchess, nor the Knights that you lead, a service to speak in this manner.”

Syanna reddened. This time the court murmured as though Sir Morgan had won a point.

“The basis of my question is obvious to everyone.” Morgan went on. “There have been five deaths now. Five women have been slaughtered in the most cruel and off handed way. Do you know why?”

“Our enquiries are ongoing.” She said.

“Ah yes, hiding behind the shield of the incompetent. Then let us try another one. Do you know how? When? When will the killer strike next other than in the nebulous terms of… He kills every night. Do you even have a suspect?”

Syanna waited until he had stopped talking. “Our enquiries are ongoing.”

“Yes. I am sure they are. But why are they still ongoing, that is my point. You are correct in everything that you say. You had the ideas about how change might have been brought about. You took charge when no-one else would. You were not so arrogant to believe that you had nothing to learn and you managed to surround yourself with the best minds in that field of work that could easily be found.

“Yet you still haven’t found this killer. Why?”

Syanna opened her mouth to respond to that.

“Could it be because you are keeping all the glory for yourself. Could it be that you are not so much better than the rest of us after all and further to that. Could it be that you are simply out of your depth. After all, you have only just taken over the protection of Toussaint and already there is a serial killer on the loose that you cannot seem to catch, even with all the resources , powers and gifts that you have at your disposal.”

He paused for effect.

“There is only two possibilities here.” He eventually decided after realising that Syanna wasn’t going to rise to the bait. “The first is that the answer is incompetence. You are simply not up to the task that you have been assigned. The task that you have taken for yourself. The task that you are taking and trying to use for your own honour, glory and eventual redemption. You think you know better than anyone else around. You refuse to listen to those people that you have taken to surrounding yourself with and you insist that you are right and everyone else is wrong. And as you do so, more and more people are getting murdered.

“This is the case. This is the case that makes or breaks you and you know it. You list your other accomplishments and the accomplishments of your Knights. And that is fair, those other men, and women, have done exemplary work. But they have done it without you. Those cases were not enough to get you the fame and glory that you feel that you deserve.

“So here is the case that you wanted. A grand case. A famous case. Against the killer that brought your predecessors in the Knights Errant low.”

“I rather think that the incompetence and corruption of some of the Knights Errant brought the order low.” Syanna commented to the various hisses of displeasure. Syanna was doing well, but it was clear that the court had turned against her here.

“Yes. But we are not talking about Crawthorne. Here you have a famous case that would make your name. It would cement the names of the Knights of Saint Francesca in the eyes of the world. It is not lost on me that you are dragging around one of the world’s most prolific chroniclers. Is that your hope? That you will catch Jack, whoever or whatever he is this time and that Lord Frederick will write down the stories of your excellence. All so men will come to forget the fact that you murdered the citizens of Toussaint.”

Syanna’s face was stone and you could have heard the proverbial pin drop in the courtroom. Somebody coughed, as someone always does in that situation.

“That is bad enough.” Sir Morgan went on, a little quieter. “But I would honestly rather that be the truth, than the other possibility that might be going on here. And that is sabotage. Your hatred of Toussaint is legendary. Your hatred of your sister is likewise. You loathe everything that we represent. Everything that we stand for. Indeed, when you first came here, your goal was to murder, or have killed, the very flower of Toussaint Chivalry before having your monster murder the Duchess herself. Then you would subvert everything and arrange that you would be made the Duchess of Toussaint on your sister’s death bed.

“You were stopped. You were prevented. We only have your word for it that you were trying to get to Detlaff that night and that it was your sister’s, rightful, imprisonment of you that prevented you from going to your Vampiric lover’s side. We only have a Witcher’s word for it that Detlaff tried to kill you.”

Syanna smirked. “I would be interested to see the results of what would happen if you called Lord Geralt’s honesty into question in an open court Sir Morgan.”

“But you were caught. If Lord Geralt had not captured you in the first place, would you not have carried out your plan?”

“Probably. But I have answered these questions as well. I was angry. I still believed that my sister had turned her back on me, still believed that she hated me. That forgiveness only began to come about after she worked so hard to keep me about. And I dare say that the two of us still need to work at it. And we do, every day. But that is also, not a new song. You promised me something original.”

“But you were caught. Here is the possibility that keeps me awake at night. The possibility that chills my blood and that I see in my nightmares. You failed with that iteration of your plot. So now you have a new one. You waited patiently in captivity. I am as aware as any that your stay in the vineyard was a captivity as much as it was anything else. You waited and you planned.

“Your previous attempt at treason had failed because you had rushed it. Because you had allowed yourself to become impatient and took the things that you had desired since your youth. The things that you felt as though you deserved. You took them and in doing so, you gave yourself away. This time, you decided that you would be patient. You would take your time.

“You waited for an opportunity to leave the vineyard and find a way of gaining some power. Of reforming your public image. You found it in the disgrace of Crawthorne and the Knights Errant. You rushed to court, having been informed by your spies, for I am as confident as anyone that you have agents at court. You rushed to court with a plan as to how to reform the Knights. Possibly having even primed your sister for this plan so that she would support you when you came to make your points. You made your ideas known and you took control.

“Then you bided your time as you took more and more power onto yourself. You learned at the feet of the esteemed Colonel Duberton but I think you took another lesson from him which was how to get away with Murder. You have made no secret of your efforts to seduce Guard Captain Damien De La Tour to your side. And now, when you have finally managed to get everything that you want, you engineer a murder.”

Syanna began to smirk.

“A murder so vile.” Morgan continued. “And so activating of a primal fear in TOussaint that you are given more resources, more resources and still more resources until it gets to the point where you can do anything you want. Absolutely anything. Until you have almost complete power over the armed forces of Toussaint. After that, all you have to do is to speak to your loyal troops and followers. And then… You finally complete your self appointed mission to destroy Toussaint as we have all known it.”

Syanna was now smiling openly.

“You find all of this funny?” Morgan demanded. “You find it funny that I’ve just accused you of treason.”

“To be fair,” Syanna responded, “You also accused me of incompetence. So which is it to be. I only have so many hours in the day for plotting.”

“This is not a thing to be taken lightly. What other explanations could there be? You have been given every opportunity to perform the tasks that have been allocated to you. Every opportunity to use the resources at your disposal and still, this killer is on the loose. Terrorising our countryside.”

“Yes he is.” Syanna said. “And instead of being out there and looking for him, I am in here being accused of Treason. You are correct. I dislike Toussaint as it was when I got here and what it was when I was a child. But I love Toussaint. I love Toussaint as it is in the storybooks. I am not so naive as to think that we can go back to that but we CAN get closer to it.”

“With you at our head?” Demanded Sir Morgan. “With you on the Ducal throne? I would rather die than to do that.”

Syanna laughed. “I don’t want the Ducal crown. I have enough paperwork as it is.”

There was some small laughter in the room after that. “Are you done?” She demanded. “Or must you insult me even further. I must confess that I would duel you myself for the insults but my life is not my own and my sister would not permit me, even to chastise someone as unworthy as yourself.”

“Your own discourtesy is proof that you are not of Toussaint.” Morgan snarled. “We are watching Knight Commander. Continued incompetence will not be tolerated. And if incompetence turns into treason then I will put the noose around your neck myself.”

“I do not answer to you.” Syanna allowed some anger to shine through. “I serve the Duchess.”

“And the Duchess answers to her people.”

“Does she?” The Duchess herself had finally had enough. “Does she really?” She stepped down from the throne. “It is true that I serve the people of Toussaint but I recall no rule that says that I answer to the court or to anyone else for that matter. The only reason that I answer to the Imperial throne is due to a courtesy that I pay them.”

(Freddie’s note:Actually true and I was as surprised as you are. Toussaint was never formally invaded by Nilfgaard. Nor was it formally annexed and assimilated into the Empire. There was originally no oath of fealty, no treaty signed; it was just a case that one day, the then Duke of Toussaint started to refer to the then Emperor as “Cousin” and the Golden sun flew over the towers of Beauclair. And that was that. Obviously in a modern world, everyone is aware that Nilfgaard could roll over Toussaint if it wanted to. Just as everyone is aware that the people of Toussaint would destroy everything of worth, including sewing the Vineyard soil with salt if anyone did. But that is still true. Toussaint is part of Nilfgaard because it chooses to be. Not because it was forced to be by economic sanctions or invasion. The things you learn when you have a few days of nothing to do while also having access to the Ducal library.)

“My sister is correct,” the Duchess went on. “The reason that she holds the post that she does is because she was the only one of you, the only one who actually tried to come up with anything different when it became clear that the Knights Errant had betrayed everything that they stood for.”

The court hissed.

“Yes.” The Duchess hissed. “I group you all together. The Knights Errant betrayed everything they stood for. They betrayed me and they betrayed Toussaint. Crawthorne was bad enough. But the rest of you were worse. Why were you worse? Because you knew there was a problem and you did nothing about it. You did not try to correct the rot because you all profited from it. When you realised what kind of man Crawthorne was you did nothing to bring his horrors to our attention because the same system that produced you was the same system that produced him. And if he was corrupt, then what did it say about you.

“He, at least, had the courage of his convictions. He thought he was right. Those former Knights Errant that went off and joined the Knights Francesca are also to be lauded. They saw the problems and took the steps to try something else. But the rest of you, all you desire is a return to the state of corruption that existed before. Where your strength of arms and weight of your coin purse is enough to make you a Knight.

“I won’t have it gentlemen. I won’t. I am an oathbreaker because of what was done. I swore that the Empress and her entourage were safe and they clearly were not. And so long as I live, then the Knights of Toussaint will NOT fall backwards into those old ways.”

She went to sit down before she realised something and stood back up. “Oh, and before any of you get any ideas. I would point out that I have already named my air and had it legally bound. My heir shares my views on the matter and will not permit this fault to return. And I understand that they also have an heir should anything happen to them. So you will have to raise up an army against me to return us to those old ways. Would you betray your Duchess? Would you betray Toussaint?”

There was a chorus of dutiful negative sounds. I noticed that Morgan looked defiant where Raoul, of all people, looked thoughtful.

“Excellent.” The Duchess sat back down. “Now, as to the matter at hand which is concerning, again, my sister’s competence and trustworthiness to be able to perform the role that she has been assigned. I share her weariness with this topic of conversation and I would hope this to be the end of it. Even though I know that even had she delivered the head of Jack to my feet then there would still be people in this assembly who would wonder why it wasn’t done all the sooner.

“First of all, regarding her competence. She was trained, and assessed by the finest that the Imperial service has to offer in the figure of Colonel Duberton of the 4th. I see that he has joined us here along with his wife, the lovely Lady Duberton.

“Sir.” She addressed him. “First allow me to apologise to you and your wife for having to sit through this tedious topic of conversation again. Secondly, I apologise for the suggestion that your training of my sister was not up to the required standard.”

I saw more than a few raised eyebrows. But to be fair, she was right. If Syanna’s competence was called into question, then the person at fault was the man who had taught her what to do. Therefore, questioning his capabilities. Quite a clever ploy from the Duchess as throwing out the possibility that people had insulted quite so gifted a swordsman would have made a few people nervous. Naturally, I would expect nothing less from the head of the Ducal court, but I do think she needed to be a little less subtle as more than one expression in the court looked confused.

The Colonel himself did not seem to react except for a glint in his eye that suggested that he knew exactly what the Duchess was doing. He bowed formally before the Duchess.

“But,” The Duchess continued, “Just for those people who seem to have forgotten everything that has happened and everything that you have said in the past. Would you mind repeating your assessment of my sister and her capabilities when it comes to commanding the Knights of Saint Francesca.”

“Gladly Your Grace.” He spoke with only a hint of a Southern accent. “Knight Commander Syanna spent almost the entire year that I have been in command of the defence and peacekeeping efforts of the Duchy of Toussaint. In the different areas that such duties require I have assessed her thusly.”

The report had a military feel to it and I wondered if he was making a point on some level.

“Strategically: Syanna has a good grasp of communication with the public on matters regarding peace-keeping and other military manners. She also knows about how to shift her people from one footing to the next, moving from a peaceful line of enforcement to a more definitive, aggressive posture. She knows the difference between occupation and conquering and knows all the best strategies for taking a place and making it her own. She also has considerable book learned skills.

“Tactically: I have seen her plans for the defence of the Chapter House of the Knights that she commands and I would judge those defences to be formidable, even though the buildings themselves are not built to withstand a siege, I would guess that many men would be lost during the assault. Other than that, she has demonstrated considerable skill in small unit tactics, specifically in the taking and arresting of criminal groups, isolating and capturing people in public with innocents nearby and, again, her plans for a significant network of watch-towers and fortifications to defend Toussaint should the Duchy be attacked were drawn with some skill. Alas, I could not test her on large scale tactics although I would say that according to those games that we were able to play, her tactics would be simple, effective and solid, if a little conventional. Sign that her tactics were learned from historical accounts of battles, rather than formulating her own plans.

“The Hunt: By which I mean the pursuit of fleeing criminals or bandit groups. Again, her expertise and knowledge in this area is exemplary. She has even been able to teach some of my own officers some tricks that will help us to find other bandits in the future. She does not hide from the fact that this is, at least partially, down to the fact that she has spent a certain amount of her time as a bandit herself.”

“Precisely.” Sir Morgan interrupted. “That is exactly the point. She was a bandit and a smuggler, how can she possibly…”

“A bandit and a smuggler because I had no other way of surviving after four Knights Errant dumped me in a field with nothing but my…”

“Enough.” The Duchess fairly screeched it before waiting for silence. “These are old arguments and we have had them out before. You were saying Colonel.”

“Thank you Your Grace.

“Detective work: This is one of her weakest areas. She has a tendency towards temper which she knows to be a family trait. This makes her subject to passions, temper and humour that are detrimental to the true art of the Detective. There is no doubt that she is highly intelligent and when she remains calm, then she is capable of the intuitive leaps but otherwise, she is better off delegating, or working with other people as she thinks aloud and needs to bounce ideas off other people.

“Training of subordinates: She is well aware of her own capabilities, or rather lack thereof, for the performance of this task. She lacks the patience of a true teacher and as such she has found the best teachers that she can lay her hands on and is training her subordinates well. I myself would be proud to serve alongside those Knights that will have spent the entirety of their training under her care.

“Leadership: She uses an informal style with her veterans with the occasional bursts of sudden formality. In doing so she cultivates a reputation for unpredictability. I believe this to be a direct response to her time in the bandit camps and a learned survival trait. Otherwise, she is harsh to younger subordinates which, correctly, means that they want to prove themselves to her. Like her Tactical and Strategic knowledge, these tricks are directly out of the basic military textbooks. Simple? Yes. But there is a reason why they are considered classics and are still used to this day.

“Overall: If she can learn to keep her temper and delegate properly and where required, then she will be a formidable commander of men and do her Duchy proud.”

“Thank you Colonel. Can you assess her performance so far?”

“She has continued the standards to which I expected of her.”

“Five women have died.” Sir Morgan objected.

Colonel Duberton frowned. “Versus how many saved. I too have read the reports and the accounts of Lord Geralt’s arrival in Toussaint. About the bandit Kings that made their livings out of Toussaint blood. Yes, five women are dead. It is tragic and I grieve for their families. But then we move on and get the next killer. There will always be deaths. There will always be bandits and smugglers and the worst examples of humanity walking the highways and byways of the world.

“But the truth is that deaths are easy to count. Lives saved are not.”

“And what is your assessment of these so-called Jack killings?” The Duchess overruled Morgan who was already opening his mouth to object.

“I have none.” He said. “We can put strategies and tactics in place to protect against bandits. We can have inspections and watches to catch smugglers. Have patrols to prevent muggings and street attacks. But there is one thing that we cannot possibly protect people from. Over and over again we see this truth and it is the one thing that all guardsmen fear. The one thing that all protectors of the innocent fear.”

The way he spoke reminded me of an often repeated speech.

“The one thing we can do nothing to protect from are the actions of madness. People who are willing to go to any lengths to achieve their goals. People who act without the usual motivations of money, security and the like. Men who are prepared to trade their lives for the lives of the people that they want to kill.

“I have only heard rumours as to what was done. But anyone who is willing to do to other living souls what rumour tells me were done to those poor women?”

He shook his head. “Those killings were the actions of madmen. Nothing more, nothing less. And they will be caught and punished accordingly. I am not saying that just to protect my earlier assessment of the Knight Commander, but because such people always make mistakes. Always. Without fail. They do not plan things properly and so, they are caught. Every. Single. Time.”

“Very good.” The Duchess said standing up. “In which case, we are content with our choice of Syanna as the Knight Commander of the Order of Saint Francesca. We are well pleased with her actions so far and we will be most displeased if we are called to one of these things again.”

She went to leave before again stopping. She turned on the courtroom in place like a hissing cat. “And I trust my sister. Absolutely. The next person who accuses her of treason without some form of proof in hand will suffer the penalty for treason themselves.”

She stalked from the courtroom.

Syanna tapped me on the shoulder and beckoned me out, but I wanted to see the reactions of the people after all of that was said.

Sir Morgan was angry and defiant.

Sir Raoul was talking to another group of courtiers which included the merchant Velles.

Sir Alain was watching me. I pretended not to notice and followed Syanna out of the door.

We went a little bit down a corridor before the Duchess led us into a smaller room.

“Leave us.” The Duchess said aloud to the room as a whole. “Not you Lord Frederick.” She added as I turned to go.

The servants and attendants that follow the Duchess everywhere turned to go, a few of them were hesitant. Men that I recognised as the Duchess’ personal Secretary, the keeper of records and a few others but it would seem that the Duchess was in a temper. “I said, get the fuck out.”

It is always a privilege to see these beautiful, ruling class ladies swear. Most of them don’t because they think that it’s beneath them and they have to present a more dignified front so that they can rise above whatever else is happening in the local areas. Including having to rise above the other male rulers in the room. One of those double standards of gender that we all live with is that ruling women have to be better than their male counterparts.

Something that I have found funny in the past on the grounds that some of the most successful rulers have turned out to be women. Queen Calanthe of Cintra, Queen Maeve of Lyria and Rivia, the Duchess herself and now Cerys of Skellige and Ciri herself.

But those educated noble women. It’s always fun. Emma doesn’t swear, she deliberately does not. So on those occasions where she does it’s often a sign of violence. So that if she is swearing it’s so that she can avoid punching someone else. But now she knows this about herself, so she occasionally uses it to shock.

Ciri swears according to what persona she is wearing. When we sailed, fought and travelled with her, she swore like a dwarven mercenary, almost as though she was using the word “fuck” in place of common punctuation. When she is in her formal Empress persona, she doesn’t, except in times of extreme distress. Or as a way to put one mood away and start again with something else. When one problem cannot be solved yet, she will swear briefly and quietly before moving onto something else. When she is informal then she swears a lot like her adopted mother, Lady Yennefer.

Listening to Lady Yennefer swear is like being under fire from massed archers on a battlefield. Not that I’ve been under fired from massed archers on a battlefield but that’s what I imagine it sounds like. She swears in a stream of constant noise, the words, tumbling from her admittedly beautiful lips in a torrent as she promises horrible death on whoever has displeased her recently to the point where she is forced into such a stream of invective. I’ve heard her do it in multiple languages too. So much so that I once disarmed one of her temper tantrums by asking her what a particular word meant.

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Yes, I just accused Lady Yennefer of having temper tantrums. A lot like a toddler does.

You can’t tell dear reader, but I am currently laughing at the image of apoplexy that my words will generate in her. To Lord Geralt, I apologise that you will be forced to sleep in the guest room at Corvo Bianco, or the stable in order to get any peace over the next few days.

But yes, the Empress does swear like that, but only in private around her closer friends or more trusted attendants. It’s as though she rations herself during the day so that when she is in private, she can indulge herself like a glutton might when he has been living off bread and water for several weeks and is given the spread of a Skelligan banquet.

The Duchess of Toussaint swore as though the word was a tasty morsel and she wanted to savor every moment that the word was in her throat, her mouth, her tongue and her lips. She drew it out too, extending it and relishing it with every moment.

She literally tapped her feet until the room was empty before she turned her, not inconsiderable, charm on and directed it at me.

“Lord Frederick.” She said sweetly. “I must beg you, once again, to forgive me and the people of Toussaint. What you just saw was shameful and I hope that when you come to write about this entire incident, I trust that you will write accurately and spare no detail. Even though it might hurt us personally.”

“Your Grace,” I began, “Such matters as this are bound to raise high temperatures and tempers. What I just saw in the court…”

“That was not what I was talking about. Instead, I was talking about the way that I just treated my sister by allowing all those people to level attacks at her without intervening.”

“Anna…” Syanna began but the Duchess held her hand up to prevent Syanna from speaking.

“As someone who is going through his own familial trials at the moment, I would apologise for this coming up and beg your indulgence moving forward. That was not how I would have wished things to go.”

“Anna…”

“You stupid, arrogant, foolish little girl.” The Duchess turned on her sister in a spitting fury. They say that some women are always at their most beautiful when they are angry, I disagree, but in the case of the Duchess, they are possibly correct.

Syanna did not improve things by laughing at her sister.

“Just so we’re clear.” The Duchess went on. “I will not, sit through a farce like that again. The next time that men come to me with grudges to grind, and arrogance to indulge, I will tell them to shove their heads up their asses where they belong. I will not stand by and allow those pumped up, tiny manhood, foolishly dressed, idiotic, charmless morons attack you and the people that are giving their lives for the sake of this Duchy. I won’t do it Syanna, I won’t.”

Syanna’s smile broadened.

“As it is,” It would seem that the Duchess had still not spent all her anger. “I may have done irreparable damage to the public perception of my relationship with you and my own confidence in the Knights of Saint Francesca.” The anger seemed to dissipate. “Why did you want me to let them talk about you like that Syanna? That cut me to the bone not leaping to your defence like that?”

“I love you too Sister.” Syanna smiled and wrapped the Duchess in a hug.

I let them indulge in their familial affection for a moment while I made a mental note to go and hug Emma and Mark when I was done with this meeting, or whatever it was. But then, I got to the point where I couldn’t hold it in any more.

“Sorry.” I said, “Sorry, but I am completely lost. What just happened?”

Syanna grinned at my confusion.

“As well as having signals to say that we should just trust each other. We also have signals between us as to what we should do in Court. In this case, I wanted my sister to stay still and not react.”

“Yes. And I left it as long as I could before losing my temper. I love you Syanna and I will not permit these petty, small-minded, cretinous little imbeciles to attack you without having my own opportunity to fight back when I get the chance. I won’t do it. I can’t do it. I am sorry.”

“It is good to know that you love me sister dearest. But I’m afraid it was absolutely necessary.”

“Why?” The Duchess demanded.

“Freddie? Could you tell my sister about what was happening and about your theory as to what these killings are about?”

I did so, much more concisely and carefully than I had last time. Better thought out in general.

The Duchess did not react the way I expected her to. I expected shouting, fury, incriminations but what I got was resignation, fatigue and the signs of a woman that had enough.

“Ah well.” She said, putting her hand to her forehead a moment. “We knew that they would come after you. I just rather thought that they would take a little longer to go about it.”

“And not have a plan quite this complex.” Syanna added. “And if they had waited, they would have far more examples of things that I was doing wrong.”

The Duchess nodded. “So,” She chose a chair and sat down. “It was a scouting mission. Trying to locate the enemy.”

“Pretty much.” I agreed.

“And what is your assessment? I know that my court is full of vipers. All the best courts are. It’s what makes life so entertaining. But who is actually after me?”

“I rather thought that they were after Syanna and the Knights Francesca.”

The Duchess sighed and gave her sister a dose of the most eloquent side-eye that I have ever seen. “You see, already it is getting into the common viewpoint.” She turned back to me. “My sister and I act as concert. The Knights Francesca are brought together under my order. They act with my authority. Everything they do, they do with my say so. To attack them and especially, to attack my sister, is to attack me. That has to be the way of things, otherwise, we might as well not bother.”

I nodded.

“So I ask you again.” The Duchess went on. “Who is coming after me?”

“Us.” Syanna prompted. “He will be happier with the word “us”.” The Knight Commander also turned to me. “Make me a happy woman and tell me that Sir Morgan is the ringleader. I dearly want to see that man hanged or otherwise humiliated.”

“He is certainly a possibility.” I admitted. “He was front and centre throughout the entire thing. And he led the political attacks on you.”

“I sense a “but” coming.”

“I’m afraid you do. He is the most obvious option don’t you think? I think that if there is a mastermind in our supposed conspiracy, he would have a scapegoat for this angle of his attack. Just as I am sure that he will already have a scape-goat set up for the Jack killings. I think that Sir Morgan is involved. But I think he’s the political front. He might be involved with the killings…”

“No.” The Duchess spoke up. “I can see him being involved as a political agitator. But I think he will be kept separate from that. He was horrified at those killings. Even at the killings of the, forgive me Lord Frederick, I know you dislike the term… But he was horrified at the brutal killings of the peasant girls. If there is a mastermind, then I would even believe that Sir Morgan is ignorant of the aspect of the conspiracy that is killing girls. Rather, I think he is the sort of man that believes it all just to be some kind of political movement.”

“He is just clever enough to be stupid.” Syanna agreed. “But I so want it to be him.”

“Just as I want it to be Sir Raoul.” I said. “I do believe that I hate that man. But he didn’t ask, he just stayed on the outside of things and occasionally asked probing and leading questions. I want it to be him and I find that I’m looking for opportunities and leading factors that say that it is him without any evidence to support it.”

Syanna nodded. “As the man said, a proper detective requires cold detachment. I am not dispassionate about Sir Morgan and you are not dispassionate about Sir Raoul. What about Sir Gregoire?”

“I’m sorry.” I said. “I know that people hate him. I know that there are always rumours of his having done awful, despicable things. But I just don’t buy it. His questions were genuine, purposeful and the kind of questions that a reasonable man might ask. I would be asking those questions of people in authority. I think that before too much longer, you will find that Gregoire’s alibis will check out and that he was provably elsewhere on the nights of the various killings. I think he’s frustrated and unhappy with his life, but just doesn’t know how to change it.”

Both women looked unhappy.

“If you want a solid suspect.” I said. “I don’t wear hats. So I would actively go out, buy a hat and wear it for a day. Deliberately so that I could eat it later if it turns out that Sir Alain is not involved in this somewhere. I would even bet a, not small, amount of money to say that he is one of, if not the man, that was under the mask and hat as he fought his way clear of Lady Marie’s defenders and the attending watch. I will even bet money with you that it turns out that he was the one that assaulted Lady Marie at the night of the party where she was invited for a walk in the gardens. It is in his character I think.”

“Why would Lord Tratamara accuse Sir Gregoire then?” Syanna wondered.

“Because everyone always believes the worst of Sir Gregoire. Including the people in this room.”

“Valid point. But why wouldn’t he tell the truth? Why not accuse the right man?”

“That answer, might tell us a very important truth.” I told them both.

We all thought about that. “It would.” The Duchess agreed. “But I cannot permit you to be accusing Lord Tratamara of anything untoward at the moment. The man lost his daughter and we must treat him gently.”

Syanna nodded. “It might come to that eventually.” She warned.

“Only if we have no other leads. And you must find some proof that he was lying.”

Syanna nodded.

“And I want to see that proof, Syanna.” The Duchess raised a finger and pointed it at her sister. “This is not a time where you can ask for forgiveness after the fact. Permission first this time.”

“Yes, dear sister.” Syanna tried for sweetness, but missed. Missed by enough that I rather thought there was some kind of private joke there.

“I will have your oath on it.”

Syanna raised her eyebrows briefly. “On my freedom, you have it.”

“Good. Then I shall leave you to your work. There has probably been a coup in my absence.”

She stalked from the room.

Syanna and I had enough time to stare at each other for a little while before Kerrass, Guillaume and Damien were shown into the room.

“Gentlemen.” Syanna said, pouring herself a large cup of wine from the carafe that was in the room. “I’ve just spent the afternoon getting yelled at by self-important idiots and I could really use a lead. A thread, or something to pull on to make this unravel.”

“Is the Duchess wavering in her support?” Damien wondered, taking his own turn to pour himself a drink.

“No.” Syanna admitted, sitting down and stretching her legs out. “She’s just as defensive when it comes to matters involving me as she ever is.”

“Is that a problem?” I wondered. “Support is good.”

Damien passed drinks over to Guillaume and Kerrass who pulled chairs over. “Yes in theory. But in the case of her sister, the Duchess can be a little blind to consequence. There are many people who share some blame for what happened on the night of the Long Fangs. Detlaff and Syanna here certainly own a fair amount of that. But one of the ones that we don’t talk about too much is the Duchess herself.”

The Knight Commander had removed a knife from her belt and was cutting up an apple.

“Lord Geralt.” Damien went on. “Advised us to send Syanna to the Vampire, guaranteeing her life. His friend… Regis I think his name was, certainly known to the Duchess as such, said that it was the only way to placate Detlaff. I wanted to send her, figuring that it couldn’t hurt and as far as I was concerned, Syanna was a dangerous criminal.”

“Which I was.” Syanna said with a grin, some juice from the apple spilling down her chin. “From a certain point of view of course.”

“Oh of course.” Damien sniffed. Just a shadow of his former self shining through. “The court wanted the same thing. Even the lady herself wanted to go, thinking that she could talk her former lover down from his position of thinking that everyone should die.”

“I was wrong, but that’s another story.”

“The only hold out.” Damien ignored the interruption this time. “Was the Duchess herself. She prevented it, throwing Syanna into prison…”

“Of a kind.” Syanna sighed.

Damien turned on her. “Look, do you want to tell this story, or shall I finish up while you get some food inside you?”

“Sorry Damien.” Syanna tried and failed to look contrite. Out of the corner of my eyes I thought I could see Guillaume hiding a smirk behind a cough.

“So the Duchess threw her ladyship into a prison. Told the rest of us to shut up about it, on pain of losing parts of ourselves to the headsman and Lord Geralt was threatened with similar punishment if he didn’t kill the elder Vampire.”

“Which would have involved hunting a thing that can turn into a bat, into a mist, turn invisible and didn’t need to eat, breathe or otherwise carry on if it didn’t want to.” Syanna finished up. “Detlaff could have buried himself in a hole in the ground to have an extended nap and Geralt would have just walked over him without noticing. But if I could have gone to him earlier, with Geralt and Regis as backup, even if it had cost me my life, then the night of Long fangs could have been averted. It isn’t guaranteed, but it is probable. My sister is blind when it comes to me. That can work to my advantage when I want to push it, but it can also be problematic sometimes.”

She sighed and pushed her small plate away.

“Ok. So what have you got. And please give me some good news. Damien?”

“I’m afraid not. Gregoire has solid alibis for three of the five nights that there have been killings. The other two I need to follow up on because he left to go to his holdings. But whoever said that he would be easy to track was correct. He was noted where he went. People stay out of his way.”

“Where was he?”

“The first night he was taking part in the wine tasting event that was taking place at Dun Myne. He stayed the night there and to have made it back to Beauclair he would have needed to make that distance in a fraction of the time it would take a normal horseman. He was seen entering his private pavilion late at night, and emerged from that same pavilion in the early morning to depart. Horse, squire and equipment hadn’t moved.

“The second night he was having a new suit of armour made. He likes to shop privately and the armoursmith confirmed to me that he was there until late. The smith there is one of Gregoire’s only friends, but they arrange matters last thing at night so that it isn’t obvious as to the fact that Gregoire shops there. There is a concern that it would be bad for business.”

“Which it would.” Guillaume agreed. “No-one would want to shop there. Even I, who knows that Gregoire is not the monster that people want to make him out as, feels some revulsion at the thought that I might get some armour from the same place as the Brute of Beauclair.”

Damien grunted. “The two men stayed up late that night, drinking port and playing cards. Gregoire slept on the floor and was kicked out in the early hours of the dawn when the Smith’s wife found him. Getting rid of him before the shop opened.”

“Lovely.”

“Then he went home for a couple of days where, according to his squire, he intended to stay and rest in advance of the new season starting up and while he was waiting for his new armour. He was going to train, eat well, rest well and get some proper training in after the winter festivities. But then news of the killings reached him and he came back to Beauclair.”

“Not that I’m a suspicious bitch or anything.” Syanna said, sipping her drink. “But I’m a suspicious bitch. Is that at all possible, that he didn’t hear of the deaths?”

“I think it’s possible.” Guillaume spoke up. He was in town for two deaths and even we hadn’t put them together as being connected yet. The third death would only attract notice if you knew about it and, famous in her field she might have been, but Nightflower would not have gained any notoriety. And so it would only be Lady Marie’s death that would have attracted any kind of attention from that side of things.”

“Why do you want him to be involved so badly?” I wondered. “You said that you invited him to join the Knights of Saint Francesca.”

“I did. And he turned me down. I offered him a way to be better than he was. I told him a way that he could cast off the common view of him and become a hero in the eyes of the public and the nobility. And he threw it back at me. And nothing in his behaviour since has suggested that I should improve my attitude. He’s just… It’s a primal thing.”

“You possibly need to be of Toussaint to understand it.” Damien told me. “It’s impossible to believe that anyone would want to be the villain of the story. Let alone thrive on it as he has.”

“Let’s move on.” Syanna decided. “Witcher. What did you find?”

“Not much to add. I found where I could climb the building so that the beggar could have seen me had I wanted to masquerade as Jack. I found a hiding place in the alley that other conspirators could have hidden from view while they waited for Flower of the Night to be found. Beyond being able to confirm that there is more than one person at play here, I’m not sure what I could add to this. I still can’t find any connection between all five of the victimes other than what Freddie suggests.”

“You look nervous, Witcher. Is everything alright.”

“I have a personal matter that I need to take care of so I would like to get going sooner rather than later.”

“Fair enough.” Syanna responded. “Can you stay a while longer?”

“A while, I just… I don’t want to be late.”

Syanna nodded. The magical words. “Personal matter” rendered all curiosity moot.

“Ok, Guillaume, make me a happy woman.”

The opportunity for a joke completely passed over Guillaume’s head. “I have been able to trace the party where Lady Marie was attacked and have been able to speak with Lord Treville.”

“Please say it was Gregoire.”

Guillaume sighed. “Gregoire was in attendance at that party. And he did indeed invite Lady Marie for a walk in the gardens. But her father was having none of it and refused his daughter permission to accompany such a man into the gardens. Lord Treville suggested that Lady Marie was not disappointed by this turn of events and guessed that there might have been some kind of signal between the two as to when Lady Marie would have been happy to go into the gardens with someone and when she might have declined.”

“What was Gregoire’s response?” Syanna sounded more resigned than anything else.

“He was disappointed, but promptly moved onto the next eligible lady.”

“Was Lord Treville able to say who it was that attacked Lady Marie?”

“He was not. She went for walks with several men that he saw. Often younger sons of people her father was negotiating with, potential matches that kind of thing. Her father was unhappy with all comers and it was Lord Treville’s opinion that Lady Marie was insisting on getting out there and meeting some eligible men. Lord Tratamara was less convinced.”

“Damn.” She said it without force though.

“Lord Treville did confirm that Lady Marie came back into the room after one of these excursions with a torn, muddy dress, a “wild look” and tear streaked face. It was not difficult to surmise that one of her prospective suitors had been a little fresh with her in the walkways and hedges.”

“But he doesn’t know who that was.”

“No.”

“Did you find a guest list?”

Guillaume smiled. “I did. And guess who’s on it.”

He produced a piece of paper, “I could only jot down the list, copied from the herald’s list.”

Sir Alain was on the list. Along with many other names that I didn’t recognise.

I looked at Kerrass whose face had tightened a little.

“Well it’s not proof.” Syanna said unhappily. “Does anyone else have anything? Anything at all?”

We all shook our heads.

She sighed and turned away. “Someone else is going to die tonight.”

“Yes.” Damien admitted. “Yes they are.”

“Fuck.” Syanna rubbed at her brows for a moment. “And our only suspect is a very thin accusation of Sir Alain, very thin with almost no basis and even if it is him, then he is certainly one amongst many and can probably produce some premade alibis. My only other lead is this fact that Lord Tratamara lied to me and I’m not allowed to confront him with that.”

“We can’t do that? Why?” Damien wondered.

“My sister forbids it.”

“Why?”

“Because she doesn’t want us pressuring a grieving man. Not unreasonable. Except in the face of the fact that someone else is going to die tonight.”

There was another pause.

“Lord Frederick. You are the one with a working theory that captures everything any guesses as to who it’s going to be?”

“No guesses.” I said. I had been considering that question. “They are going to come after you and the people around you. The wives and lovers of your more prominent Knights. After today I would also suggest that Madame Duberton would make a good target in order to discredit and attack the good Colonel as well. But I think that this is the planned part of the scheme. Their next target is already chosen. Before, they were after women that had scorned them, from their perspective of course. Now, they will go after those people that they actively want to get rid of. Sooner or later though, they are going to go after you directly.”

“Cheery.”

For a while, Syanna stared into space before abruptly shifting and stretching out, folding her hands behind her head and closing her eyes. “Well, we can’t just fret ourselves into solving this. It’s likely to be another busy day tomorrow so we should do our best to get some rest.”

There was a brief pause as we all looked at each other. Kerrass had checked himself before heading to the door, waiting to see what the rest of us would do. Syanna opened one eye and peered at the rest of us.

“Rest gentlemen. That’s an order. We will all need to be at our best tomorrow.”

Kerrass left the room, not leaving me enough time to even tease him about rushing off to see his lover. Sorry, I should use the terms and vernacular of the place that I was in. He was rushing off to see his mistress.

Damien rose to his feet slowly. “I…” He began slowly as he stretched his arms above his head. “Am going to get a bath, a meal and aim to have a good night’s sleep. I have not been in my own bed for more than four hours at a time for what feels like forever.”

“At the risk of being filthy,” Syanna said, also stretching as she rose to her feet. “I am going to join you in a bath.” She smirked at the Guard Captain who was looking nervous. “Normally, at a juncture like this, I would take this opportunity to make a suggestive comment about the two of us bathing together. But I am too tired and too frustrated at the courtiers to come up with anything witty.”

Damien smiled before doing me proud and rising to the occasion. “Even if I were to say yes to such an invitation, which I wouldn’t, then I myself would be too tired to actually do anything about it. I would likely just fall asleep, either in the water or in the bed, long before we got to any of the fun stuff.”

Syanna nodded. “I feel much the same. Although the prospect of falling asleep next to you is far from the worst idea I’ve ever had. Anyway… I have no doubt that I shall see you all in the morning gentlemen.”

She and Damien left the room together. Guillaume and I sat together for a little while. My thoughts were bouncing around, playing the court session over and over again in my head as I spent the time looking for new clues. Looking for words that were said out of order, analysing points, body language and the actual language used. I don’t know for how long we sat there. Not for that long, a few minutes I would guess. Certainly no more than that and I suddenly realised that my thinking was going round in circles. One of those self-defeating circular thoughts that was leading nowhere and I physically forced myself to jerk free of that pattern.

I rose to leave and like Damien and Syanna before me, I stretched my hands above my head until I could feel my spine crack. I had some kind of half formed plan of getting something proper to eat, a bath and an even less formed plan of convincing Ariadne or Anne to wash my back. Syanna’s words about falling asleep in the arms of someone else seemed awfully attractive in the right there and right then of the situation. But then I saw the expression on Sir Guillaume’s face.

“Are you alright?” I asked. Such a basic question but it has gotten more important conversations started than any other conversation starters that I am easily aware of.

He jumped. “What? I… Yes of course… Of course.” He frowned. “No,” he admitted after a moment. “No I’m not.”

I pulled up a chair. “You wanna tell me what’s bothering you?”

“You mean apart from the fact that these fuckers went after my wife, the woman that I love more than breathing.” His anger lashed out, gone as fast as it flared up. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I would feel the same way. And that’s only if I’m right. Which is not guaranteed.”

“How often are you wrong in that kind of thing?”

“It’s a situation where I throw mud against the wall. The more I throw, the more stuff sticks. Kerrass is kind, when researching things you get to the point where you get a feeling for the right answer. I’m pretty sure I’m right but there is no denying the fact that I am off my game at the moment.”

He grunted.

We sat there for a while. I was using that old trick of the interviewer. Waiting for my friend to start talking.

“You should go.” He said. “We are supposed to be getting some rest.”

It was a distraction, rather a clumsy one as well. A little bit harsh of me to say it like that, but it was. He was trying to get me to leave him alone. But I thought that this was a lie. I thought that he wanted to talk. He had already admitted that he wasn’t alright and if he had wanted to avoid the conversation then he would have left the room. I had many different things that I could say that would deflect him. I could tell him that he was under the same orders and wonder why he wasn’t going to get some rest.

Instead, I went with: “Talking a problem out with a friend is resting.”

He didn’t have an answer to that.

“I don’t like this.” He said after what seemed like an age.

“Don’t like what?”

“I don’t like…” He waved his hands in the air, reaching for words that would not come.

“The waiting?” I guessed. “I have always hated the waiting.”

“No, that’s not it. The waiting has never been a problem for me. But for a few exceptions, there is little to be afraid of. A proper suit of armour will protect you from most things. I have been struck by a giant hurling a windmill, literally, a windmill. I have been charged by a rampaging Shaalmar and have been struck, plumb in the chest by a lance wielded by a charging Gregoire. It hurts, there are injuries, but this is the price we pay for knighthood. No-one enjoys that. But I am a lucky man. I have a wife that I love, and who loves me back for reasons passing my understanding. I have money. Were I to die then I do so in service of Toussaint. If I am crippled then I am sure that I will find some use of my time and I am secure in the love of my wife, regardless of what happens to me.”

I said nothing to that. I had to remind myself that I was dealing with a Knight of Toussaint and the fact that they do not think, or act the same way that normal people do.

“No, the waiting is not what is getting to me.” He went on. “I have always quite enjoyed the waiting. It teaches us to live in the moment. To enjoy the life that we have, the air in our lungs, the strength in our limbs because the next moments could be our last. When waiting to ambush an enemy, every second gives more information. When waiting for battle, you can relax a little bit more. It’s not the waiting that I am hating here.”

He lapsed into silence for a short while.

“I think we’re heading for a disaster.” He admitted eventually. “I think we’re heading for a… I think we’re heading for a defeat here.”

“Why?”

He thought for a moment.

“I’ve been fighting for nearly all my life. On the training fields, jousting fields, tourney fields. Against bandits, monsters, enemy Knights and every enemy that has come at Toussaint, you have been able to find me there, facing them with a sword drawn and a song for Toussaint in my heart. As we sit here, I am at the peak of my physical prowess. I am better now than I have ever been. I know that people complained that we were not able to compete in the main joust over the winter. But I saw those people and there was not one of them. Not Raoul or Gregoire, could beat me with the way I’m fighting at the moment.

“That’s not pride… It’s a little bit of pride, but it’s also the knowledge that I am fighting really well at the moment. There is just this feeling that you’re in it you know? Where the sword floats in your hand. Where the lance, the horse and the ground under you are one being and the strike rips out of you from your toes. It is not always there, it comes and goes and I know that in five years, maybe a little bit more if I’m lucky, it will stop coming to me as often before eventually leaving me altogether and I will fight on experience more than anything else.

“I have trained with the best weapons masters that Toussaint has to offer. I have studied the great generals and their works. I have even read textbooks from the Imperial war college and although I wasn’t allowed to attend, I was flattered by Colonel Duberton that I would have acquitted myself with honour.

“And everything tells me that just sitting and waiting for our enemy to make the next strike is madness and will lead to our ruin.”

He sighed then and his shoulders slumped. That was the point, he was upset with the reactiveness of it all.

“An amateur Knight will hide behind his shield when an experienced man will know that to just crouch behind a shield is only for defence against arrows or hurled missiles. After which you get up and close the distance. To hide behind a shield is death in a fight and a shield is just as much a weapon as a sword is. Sooner or later a battle is won by closing the distance to an enemy.

“Now yes, I know that there are ways to force an enemy to attack a superior situation but that is not what is happening here. We are waiting. We are waiting for the enemy to make the next strike. They are going to attack us and they are going to come for us. They are going to attack us and a lady, a woman, is going to die for our inactivity.”

“We are not being inactive.” I said. “We are…”

“I know what we’re doing.” He snarled, his temper getting the best of him. “We are resting,”

“And what would you have us do.” My own anger rose to meet his. “Tell me, we’ll do it. Kerrass is probably riding to meet his lady as we speak but I’m sure that the Knight Commander or the Captain can be roused. What would you have us do? Because we will do it. We will do it right now. You give us the word. Do you have some lead that we could follow up on? Just you and me? Do you have some clue that we have missed? Do you have a theory that could let some more light into the affair?”

“You know I don’t.”

“So what would you have us do?” I demanded. “There are guards and Knights stationed everywhere. The Duchess could order a curfew to be sure, but I am coming to know Toussaint now. If she did that then that would only make people more likely to leave their homes. At the moment, fear is keeping people indoors, a court order would spark defiance. We could ride around looking for Jack but Toussaint is a big place and the truth of the matter is that he could attack at any time and in any place, what are the chances of the two of us being in the right place at the right time?”

“All that would happen.” I took a breath to calm myself down. “All that would happen Guillaume, is that we would exhaust ourselves. The Knights and the Guard leak things. So the only guaranteed dependable people were in this room. So in the morning, when everything that will happen, has happened. If we are well rested, we can fight our enemy. But if we are exhausted, then we are fighting that same exhaustion as well as our enemy.”

My words fell into silence. A silence which lengthened. I thought longingly of my pillow.

“Every problem I have ever had. Every battle I have ever fought.” Guillaume said quietly. “Has been beaten by being proactive. By moving forward and engaging the enemy.”

“This is not a battle.” I told him. “This is a campaign. And in campaigns, so I understand, you pressure an enemy until he makes a mistake. And then the trick is to make sure that your army is rested, equipped and fed well enough that you can pounce, instantly and without compromise so that you can exploit that mistake. That is what is happening here.”

He took that in. He needed something else. Another push.

“Have you ever read Jon Natalis’ memoir?”

“No.”

“You should. My copy is in the north or I would lend it to you. He said that the hardest part of his life was not the leap from the ranks of the common soldier to the Knighthood. The hardest part of his life was when he had to make the leap from implementing someone else’s tactics, to devising his own. That point where he had to wait for the scouts reports, waiting for the sight of his enemy and for the news of what was going on on his flanks. The point where there was no choice but to react to the movement of the enemy.

“Then he said that the reports came through, he saw the enemy and what he was up against, saw their vulnerabilities and could issue the orders to exploit it. Then he could force a mistake onto the enemy general and that they would then be the ones to react.

“Yes we are in the position of reacting to enemy movement right now. But soon. Very soon if I am a judge. We will be the ones to attack. We will be the ones to take it to the enemy.”

I rose to my feet.

“In the meantime…” I stretched again. “Go and find your wife. Have dinner with her and get an early night. The Knight Commander was right. It is likely to be an early morning for all of us.”

Guillaume nodded and rose with me. “Thank you Lord Frederick.”

“Don’t thank me. You will probably have to tell me exactly the same thing tomorrow when I am the one doing all the fretting.”

He smiled at that. “I will.”

I clapped him on the shoulder which, given that he was still wearing all his armour, hurt me more than it hurt him before we left the room together and went our separate ways. Alas for me, he got the easier end of that deal as his path didn’t take him past the courtroom.

“Lord Frederick, what do you say to the accusations that you are just prolonging this for the purposes of your trading company?”

I very carefully did not say that it was the family’s trading company, not mine.

“Lord Frederick, is it really Jack out there killing innocent women?”

This person, although I did not see who it was, sounded genuinely afraid and I desperately had to fight off the urge to tell them that they had nothing to worry about. I have no doubt that they were genuine, but there was little doubt in my mind that an enemy was watching carefully. So I ignored them.

“Lord Frederick. Any comment on the progress being made?”

There were a few of these. It has happened before when Kerrass and I found ourselves working for Lords & Ladies that are in the possession of a court of the land. People demanding progress reports because they feel that they are entitled to the information.

Which they are in my opinion. But that is not my problem, or focus. Kerrass told me that the first time it came up. He told me that people will demand to know your progress, from the highest lord to the lowest villager, all of them thinking that they have a right to your time more than you do. “The only person that we have to answer to is the person paying the wage. After that, it’s up to them to decide who knows what and how much. After all, there are things there that certain people might not want generally known.”

So although I agree, I think people should know everything, I find that it’s not always that sensible to do that. In this case, it could be rather fatal.

So instead of stopping to answer all the questions I simply moved past them with a noncommittal comment that they should address their questions to the Duchess but that I had work to do.

But these people always have words that they can throw at you. Barbs that can wound you, even as you walk past them.

“Lord Frederick. What will you say to the family of the woman that will be killed tonight because of your negligence?”

I felt my hands tighten at that, as though they were wrapped around a courtier’s neck. Fortunately there were several people between me and the person that called this. Including a couple of the Knights of Saint Francesca and a, not small, number of other courtiers. Some of whom were obviously appalled at the comment.

No I’m not going to tell you this person’s name. There is always a person who says things like this. They are trying to wound, trying to hurt and there is nothing that you can say or do that will prevent them from doing so. In my case, they do it to hurt, yes, to sabotage, that too. But also because they know that I’m going to talk about it in these journals.

I like to think of that person reading this, right now, who will want to claim that it was them in order to garner some notoriety for themselves. But it won’t work. Because now, unless there were other people there, anyone can claim that it was them that asked that horrible question. And then their hypocrisy is exposed for all to see.

I realised that I was staring my hatred at this person which meant that I had stopped in my progress, leaving me vulnerable to being asked even more questions, so I spun and did my best efforts at stalking off. I strongly suspect that I was only minorly successful.

There was another group of people clustered outside the guard point that was set up outside the guest wing of the palace. There were only a few guests in residence at the time and most of them were in my family’s quarters so the guards weren’t letting anyone past. Not with supposed messages to try and get to someone. Not with packages or offers of gifts. At least one person who was loudly claiming to have business matters to be discussed with ‘Lady Coulthard” was also turned away with a grunt and a complaint. Fortunately for me, they didn’t realise that I was there until I had almost already passed them and as such I could leave their questions and their complaints in my wake as I moved into the blessed silence that was the corridors outside our rooms.

I stopped, just outside the door leading into that area, literally with my hand on the handle. I had been so caught up in thinking about the murders and the questions that I had been dodging that it hadn’t occurred to me until I was actually stood there that this would be the first time since that morning when I would actually see my family as a whole and I found that I didn’t want to do it. I wanted some peace and quiet for just a moment.

I retraced my steps and found the balcony that I had vomited on just that morning. The mess had already been cleaned up and I sat down with my back to the balcony and stretched my legs out. I pulled my cloak tighter around myself and formed that old bubble of warmth and darkness round myself. Lifting the hood over my head and down around my face so that I could add the darkness to that illusion.

It’s nice there. My own private existence in the warmth, surrounded by the smell of the cloak that I now, irrevocably associate with the outdoors. Old scents of herbs, woodsmoke from long forgotten campfires and old food smells. Also horse. There is a lot of horse smell to be associated with that cloak.

I like it when I find that place. It is not always there. Often, there is a pressing need to get some sleep, either time or physical constraints mean that it is necessary to get my head down. And that was true here as well, but right now, I just wanted to sit there wrapped up in my warm cocoon where I didn’t need to worry about things, turning it over and over in my mind as I went through the problem again. Was there something that I had missed? Was there a question that was unanswered, a situation that we hadn’t gone over. Or was I just wasting time before I went to bed.

“It is a little of both.” Came Ariadne’s voice. “May I join you in your warm place?”

“That depends.” I said. “Are you coming with recriminations or news or pressure for me to do things that I don’t want to do?”

“Not a word of it,” she responded. “I just want to spend some time with you.”

“Then you can come.”

And she was beside me, her arms wrapped around me.

“How are you holding up?” She asked.

“I am tired without being sleepy.” I told her. “I am scared without a target.”

She rubbed my arms in that wordless gesture of affection and care. I don’t know why it works but it does.

“I have the sense that we are just waiting for something.” I said. “Some small matter that would solve everything. Just that one link that would lead us to our enemies.”

“You will find it.” She said. “You always do.”

“But I don’t do I.” I said. “That’s part of the problem. One real failure in this line of work. One real failure and it’s the biggest one. The most personal.”

“And this one will come too. Come on, thinking too hard about it isn’t going to help. Come inside. There is dinner laid out and your family waiting. They love you and the world is full of distractions. The answer will come, in the small moments of the night. Just make sure that you don’t neglect Anne when the answer comes.”

“I feel sure that she will ensure that my attention is centred solely on her.”

“That’s part of the point isn’t it.” She said. “Come on.”

She heaved me to my feet and led me into the family rooms.

Emma met me there and I realised that this was the moment I was putting off. That moment of decision. Was I going to hold onto my anger, or was I going to let go of it. I had not realised it until that moment as to what I was going to do.

She looked at me with watery eyes and slowly raised her arms. The wordless question was what broke me in the end and I stepped into that embrace with a small sob of relief.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not your baby brother any more Emma.” I told her.

“Yes you are.” She replied. “You always will be. But you’re not the little boy who used to come to me every time that Father yelled at you either. I need to remember that sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” I wondered, pulling back with a smile.

Mark was next and he enveloped me in one of his expected bearhugs.

We sat and ate dinner as a family. Laurelen and Ariadne joined us and we spoke of other things. Small things, unimportant things that needed discussing. Family planning. Wedding planning, including an entertaining little diversion where Emma and Laurelen planned the wedding that they would never have. Both of them wanted to wear red dresses although Laurelen wanted to get married in a forest clearing while Emma wanted to be married in the family chapel.

I was much better at keeping the topic of conversation away from their betrayal than I had been with Kerrass, or even Ariadne. Emma, Mark and Laurelen took me at my word and didn’t mention it.

It was not back to normal though. There was a stiffness there. The gaps between conversation topics were a little too long, a little awkward as one or another of us desperately hunted for something to talk about that wasn’t… you know… that. It was saddening, very saddening but at the same time, I found that I was comfortable with my choices. What had happened was not my fault and the only other way that I could have dealt with it was to ignore it and pretend that it had never happened. An answer that would only lead to further betrayals and more resentment. I was comfortable that I had made the right choice, but I didn’t like this new sense of awkwardness between us all.

I begged off early and went to bed. Ariadne came with me and hugged me before she left me at my door.

“I am very proud of you.” She said.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “You may not realise it, but you are still ill. I can see it, so can your family, Kerrass and those people that know you well also. But you are working hard. Hunting a killer and confronting your family head on. It would have been easy for you to take the easy route and you did not. I am proud of that. I am proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” I told her. And meant it.

She tried to fight the smile of pleasure that came with that but I wouldn’t let her and kissed her instead.

“Get some rest.” She told me, all but pushing me into my room where Anne was waiting for me.

She was lying on the bed, wearing little more than a few strands of silk that hinted at the wonderful shapes that lay beneath, legs and arms stretched out that did interesting things to her body.

“Ariadne said that you might need some things to take your mind off it.” She told me. “So I thought I would see if I could make you concentrate on me for a while.”

She was entirely successful in distracting me.

Some time later we sat back, propping ourselves on pillows and doing our best to get our breath back.

“So how was your day?” She asked abruptly, making us both laugh. “Oh, that was worth the wait.” Was her follow up line.

“I’m pleased that I live up to your expectations.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, there is some room for improvement…”

“You wound me.” I cried so she hit me with a pillow.

“You are self-aware enough to know that there is a certain something that is added with emotional context, just as there is with longer term relations where you can both learn the quirks of your partner’s bodies.”

“Such formal language.” She hit me again.

“But that was entirely satisfying.” She purred.

I know that it’s very male of me, and more than a little smug. But there is a special kind of male pride that comes with leaving a woman utterly satisfied in the bedchamber. It truly is like no other kind of satisfaction.

“But seriously though, how was your day?” She asked.

“Long.” I said, “frustrating. On the one hand I think we learned quite a lot. On the other hand, I don’t think we entirely know what it all means yet. We also had our time wasted on a scale that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.”

“How far are you from finding a solution to all of this?”

“I don’t know. If I’m honest, I think we are getting to the point where we, all but, know who it is that’s behind all of these deaths. But proving it is going to be an entirely different concern. And then we have to catch them of course.”

“So it’s not Jack?”

“No.” I admitted, being a little cross with myself for letting that slip. “No it’s not. It’s just your normal, garden variety monster wearing human skin.”

She propped herself on her elbow and looked at me. “Should I be relieved? Or should I be more frightened. From your tone it is hard to tell.”

“I wish I could answer that. The simple truth that I have seen, over and over and over again on the path with Kerrass, is that monsters act according to their nature. They can co-exist with us, or we can co-exist with them. I’ve met a were-wolf that acted as a gamekeeper for a Northern Lord and locked himself in a cage for five nights either side of the full moon. He had a lunar calendar in his cabin with the phases of the moon marked carefully in red ink.

“You will have read about Tom the Troll but the happiest being I ever met was a Troll that was a village’s ploughman. He did it all by hand. A little slow but the village boasted that he could plough even the toughest field. He had agreed to help the village after one army or another had stolen the village’s last oxen. So instead of living in a cave where the village hated and feared him, now he lives in a hut, is fed from the harvest that he helped to produce and the children of the village ride on his shoulders as he works.

“Toussaint itself depends on the Insectoids that live in the earth. The Kikkimores and Centipedes churn the ground and their secretions add to the soil in such a way as to help produce better quality grapes.

“Monsters are only monsters because that is what we choose to call them that. In truth, they are beings and creatures like us. And like us, sometimes they need to be taken away from society and sometimes they can be brought into society.

“Worse than that though, is always the humans… Sometimes Elves although I have found that it is almost never a dwarf, or a halfling. But it is the humans that are the worst and most terrifying creature of all.”

During the last part of my little sermon, she had started to grin. “Wonderful speech.” She told me. “But I was thinking more about the specifics of this situation, rather than the general nature of monster versus human nature.”

I laughed at myself. “Sorry, I went off into a lecture didn’t I.”

“You did.”

“Then the truth is that I don’t know. Jack doesn’t like copycats and goes out of his way to destroy them. He might decide to turn up and start killing people to show Toussaint what the real Jack is like. Or he might just kill the people that are pretending to be him falsely. He is a jealous creature. And the other problem becomes, these people have decided to do this. We don’t know why yet. I mean we suspect things, but we don’t know why. So what’s next?”

“What do you suspect?”

“I shouldn’t really say.”

“Fair enough.”

“No I mean, I don’t want to say in case I turn out to be wrong.”

“How likely is it that you are wrong?”

I took a deep breath. “Not very likely. My theory is the only one that fits all the facts as we know them. I’ve tried to think of other things, tried to think round the corners and tried to come up with other situations. But this is right. I feel it.”

We lapsed into silence for a while after that.

“Someone else is going to die tonight.” I said slowly. “And there is nothing I can do to stop it.”

“You can rest.” She said, putting her arm round me in comfort. “You can rest, and you can catch the bastards that are doing this.”

“It’s easier said than done.” I replied. “All they need to do is pick a random woman, just anyone wandering the streets and paths of Toussaint by herself, and take their time. There is nothing we can do to stop them. We can make it difficult and it’s already as difficult as we can make it. Guards, patrols, watchmen and, much though they might do more harm than good, the vigilance committees are at least good enough to keep people indoors so that we don’t have to worry about that.”

I frowned in thought.

“You’re brooding again.” She decided after a while. “It would seem that my work here is not yet done.”

“You don’t sound too disappointed about that.” I groaned as her hands started to wander.

“Sometimes, not always, but sometimes my job can be a lot of fun.”

Anne did her job well and then we slept.

I dreamt that night. It was not an unfamiliar dream but this was from a new perspective. I recognised the village almost immediately. I had been there only once before but this was a new perspective. I looked down at the sleeping village of Amber’s crossing and it was deserted. The cold of early winter had set in and there was frost in the air as I stood on the main beam of one of the houses.

And I was not alone.

“Do you remember this night my friend?” Jack said, standing next to me.

“I remember dreaming this then as well.”

“Oh no, this is the same dream.” He replied. “You are about to emerge from the inn, wondering why there is no-one around.” He was dressed as he had been then. Hat, waistcoat and cloak. His legs long and furred, bending the wrong way in the form of goats legs and I realised that I was unafraid.

“Goats legs?” I wondered.

“Makes for better jumping.” He told me with a smile. “I mean have you seen a goat run, or jump. I’ve seen them run up the sides of mountains, utterly without fear of tumbling. An inspiring sight.”

“Why have you brought me here?”

“Interesting question. Here you come.”

I watched as a younger me came out of the inn. It was me, definitely me, recognisably me, but I could not imagine myself in his place.

“I look so young.” I heard myself comment, and it was true. There was a layer of young person fat that I lacked now. My stoop, born from years hunched over one book or another was much more pronounced. I moved with an utter lack of grace while my clothing looked awkward and misshapen on my frame.

There was a light in my face. An innocence that was missing now. Today, my eyes are shadowed, not least by the bags under my eyes. I watched as the other me walked between the houses, kind of looking for something but not really.

“What would happen?” I began. “If I went down there and talked to myself?”

“I imagine that everything would change. You could do so much damage, so much could be worse,”

“So much could be better.”

“In my experience, that is rarely the case.”

“Why have you brought me here?”

“How do you know that this is not a dream?”

“Jack.” I warned, even though there was nothing that I could do to threaten him.

He grinned at me, his face feral. “Find those people Freddie.” He told me. “Find them, deal with them, kill them. Or I will.”

The other me had seen Jack now. Jack gave the little wave that I remembered and led the other on the chase into the woods as I watched, realising that the younger version of me would not have seen me even if I had descended to talk to him.

And then I woke up. Someone was shouting, Mark’s voice. The booming resonance of the trained churchman. Yelling out the most stereotypical phrases. “What is the meaning of this?”

Anne was already awake and strapping her own robe about herself. “You had better go.” She told me, looking afraid.

I pulled on my own robe and went outside to find Syanna standing before Emma, Mark and Kerrass. The Knight commander had a grim face and stood with her own faction. Guillaume and another pair of men that I did not recognise.

“What has happened?” I demanded of the already exhausted looking Syanna.

“I am here to arrest Witcher Kerrass of the Feline school.” She told me in the clipped tones of a woman holding onto her temper with her teeth. “Please do not make this harder than it has to be.”

“There has to be some kind of mistake.” I heard myself comment. “What did he do?”

“We are arresting him on suspicion of being the killer Jack.”

“What? That’s absurd.”

Kerrass was frowning.

“We have witnesses and are acting preemptively. Last night he was seen in the vicinity of the Moineau manner and this morning, Lady Moineau was found murdered in her grounds. Jack was pursued by the local guardsmen but he escaped.”

I watched Kerrass carefully as soon as the name Moineau was mentioned. His face had gone from a kind of weary bemusement to an expression of stone. Except that stone has more character.

“It has been made known to us that Witcher Kerrass has been having an affair with Lady Moineau and as such, a motive becomes clear. You will hand over your weapons Witcher Kerrass, and come quietly.”

“This is outrageous.” Emma protested. “He has only…”

Kerrass held his hand out to forestall Emma’s protest. “I will come quietly, but I will hand my weapons to Freddie.”

“That is acceptable.”

Kerrass unstrapped the two swords from his back and held them out to me. I took them stiffly, as well as the belt and boot knife that Kerrass produced after that.

“He is being framed.” I told Syanna.

“Of course he’s being framed.” She snarled. “But right now, if I don’t arrest him he will get lynched. Sir Morgan is already calling for the rope. I must also inform you that you are no longer welcome in my investigation. It is demanded that you cease all your investigation into this matter and leave it to the proper authorities. Sir Guillaume, you will attach yourself to Lord Frederick and see to it that he does not get himself into any trouble.”

Sir Guillaume’s mouth fell open. “Surely I would be better…”

“Sir Guillaume.” Syanna’s voice lashed out before she closed her eyes for a moment to calm herself. “I assign you to Lord Frederick, the same way I would assign you to a post on the battlefield.”

She looked at me as she said that and I nodded my response. I got the message. I needed to prove that Kerrass was being framed and she had given me Guillaume to help me.

“Come along Witcher.” She ordered, taking the now manacled Witcher by the shoulder and leading him off.

The room descended into silence.

“I will order some breakfast.” Anne said distantly, leaving quietly.

“Freddie?” Emma said softly. “Are you alright?”

“What? Yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be.?”

“You’re smiling.”

I grinned at her. “Our enemies have just made a mistake.” I told her.