I decided to throw her a bone.

“Your efforts to distract yourself from what you are feeling by trying to turn the conversation into an attack on me, are not going to stop the thoughts from being… well.... Thought. I rather think that you might do better if you express yourself more openly. That includes discussing whatever is bothering you in the open.”

“How do you do it?” She wondered. “How do you keep working on these kinds of problems knowing that if you make mistakes then people die?”

“Having second thoughts about taking your penance quietly?” I teased her.

She glared. “It was a serious question.”

I let her have that point with a smirk.

“I can only tell you what Kerrass once taught me. You do your best. You do the best that you can. You tell yourself that you can’t save everybody and that next time you will do better. Then you work the problem until a solution presents itself. Even if that solution occurs because all the other answers turn out to be false. That is the only way to do this.”

“It seems like an impossible mission.”

“And it is.”

“How do you live with it?”

I laughed at her and heard the bitterness in my own voice. “Fuck.” I swore. “It made me ill and has left me with multiple injuries. But in your case. You are not the only person in Toussaint who is also working towards redemption.”

I gestured towards Syanna who was getting everyone back together to start again.

“That is a fair point.” Lady Tonlaire said.

“I have another piece of advice for you.” I said as people started to gather properly, find seats, pour themselves some drinks and finish their sandwiches.

“Oh?”

“Yes. My Father told me this.”

“And you listened to your Father? I thought you hated your father.”

“I do. I did. I also loved him and I miss him every day, but your attempts to distract me are still not going to work.”

“Sorry. It was automatic.”

I nodded.

“If you are going to apologise to someone. There is a process. It is not enough to say “I am sorry” and then pretend that everything is ok. It is not. Such things are like putting a bandage over an injury without cleaning or closing it. It will just fester and make things worse.”

I checked to make sure that she was listening, she was frowning in concentration. She had a little furrow between her eyebrows that was pronounced when she did that kind of thing. I imagined that it might have made her cute when she was younger. So I thought that it was safe to move on.

“If you are going to apologise, you must mean it. Otherwise that would make the apology a lie. You must also be clear with the person as to what you are apologising for. What you think you did wrong and what they think you did wrong might be two different things so you need to be aware that they might come back at you with other stuff that you might need to consider.”

She nodded.

“And finally,” I told her. “You must then take corrective actions to ensure that what you are apologising for, never happens again. Otherwise, all the good work that you have just done is pointless. Father once told me that this is the most important step. Indeed, he once claimed that, in some cases but not all, you could leave all the other bits of an apology out and just take the appropriate actions. Show people that you are sorry, not just telling them so. It can make all the difference.”

“I will remember what you said.” She told me before she turned and returned to the table.

Kerrass had saved me a space and arranged matters so that one of the larger pots of coffee were near my hand. I nodded gratefully and sank into the chair. This whole being nice to people that I’m pretty sure I despise is pretty tiring work.

“Ok,” Syanna began, bringing things to some sense of order. “So that is what happened, those are the facts of the matter so now I want to open it up a little bit. No assumptions please, let’s take it from the top. I want to go over our suspect list. I want to go over our motives, our methods and everything from the very top. No old lead is to be unexplored. No suspect name is too ridiculous, no idea is too stupid.

“The only thing that I will want to step on is any kinds of criticisms against the investigation so far as, again for the record, there are mistakes that were not our fault, assumptions made that were based on what we knew at the time and for my money, we did some good work that we can be proud of. I will also not tolerate criticisms of my sister that might come up. Yes, I will admit that she was a little too emotional when I would have preferred that she be analytical.

“Especially when it came to the matter of trapping the attack against Lady Caroline. Lord Frederick, Sir Guillaume, Comtesse Ariadne and Lady Caroline herself went to considerable lengths to make sure that that happened and yes, it was thrown away. Believe me when I say that that has been argued about, shouted about and there is no point in “if onlys”. Do I make myself clear?”

There were various sounds to the positive.

“My sister wants this sorted today. I want to give orders today. Even if we don’t catch the fuckers today, I want them to feel us breathing down their necks today. They have been living in safety and security for far too long. Now… who would like to start?”

There was a long pause. I didn’t dive in because I had been instrumental in getting us to this point as it was. I rather thought that what was to come would be a long series of people poking holes in my own reasoning and I was not looking forward to it.

“I will start.” Lady Tonlaire began, much to a few people’s surprise. “I did not know half of what has been discussed here and I hope that, when we get into things, I will be able to add some pertinent information to what you know in an effort to… move things forward. For the record, I have no doubt that the declarations that this killer is not Jack returned to terrify the people of Toussaint is accurate. But I would like to know the reasoning behind that declaration.

“Your next question is to ask why I want to know that. First, I will admit to a desire for some level of reassurance that it is not Jack. But also… I think it’s interesting that these people chose to hide behind that particular mask. Why Jack? Why not… Oh I don’t know. Why not another vampire? People are still just as terrified of Vampires. Why Jack?”

“It’s easier to reproduce?” Someone murmured. “A man with a dagger is easier to pretend to be than a vampire.”

“Yes.” Lady Tonlaire responded. “That is part of it, but it is not entirely true. There are vampires that are bestial, silent killers. With all respect to Comtesse Ariadne, but there are others that are not so easy on the eyes. A throat torn apart with blood and things splashed everywhere would be just as effective. Cause just as much fear.”

“And just as likely to summon a Witcher.” Captain de La Tour argued.

“Which did not stop you from doing the same thing with Jack. And with the same results I might add.”

I smirked to myself. Lady Tonlaire had had that answer ready.

“I stress that I am not criticising,” Lady Tonlaire said. “and I understand that I am the least popular person in the room. But there is something there that is worth thinking about. If you are not going to pretend to be a monster, why not forget the pretenses and actually be a normal killer. I agree with Lord Frederick’s, often repeated theme, that the really terrifying things in this world are the thinking men, women, Elves and the rest that live amongst society. Why not be one of them instead. Why Jack? And I think that starts with “Why not Jack?” Why are we so sure that it isn’t Jack?”

Syanna nodded. “Freddie?”

I took a deep breath. “There are a lot of short answers.” I told the room. “It starts with, Jack told me. He occasionally visits me in dreams when he’s bored and has nothing better to do. He did so to warn me that he would not tolerate copycats in Toussaint any more than he would tolerate them anywhere else. Now that is easily dismissed as the dream that it is.

“The second reason is this. This does not… feel like Jack. The only person that knows even close to what I know about the figure “Jack” is Lady Yennefer. Her area of study was the magical classification of the entity. If you read the book when it comes out, hers is the science stuff. But the history of when he comes and when he does what he does, that comes down to me. I have studied every instance that Jack has been made manifest in the continent and beyond. I have gone over the documents and exchanged letters with other scholars as well as some of the people that are still surviving from the times when he was last here.

“In case you were wondering, it was in Nazair and he terrorised the place for months. For long after the deaths themselves had ceased. These killings are… They are not classy enough for Jack. They are crass, tasteless and brutal in a way that Jack would find distasteful. That is not a satisfying answer and I understand that but just let me explain why it’s important.

“I am the world leading expert on Jack. If you want a joust fought, you fetch a Knight. If you want a Monster killed you fetch a Witcher. If you need a wall built, you fetch an Engineer. If you consult any of those people in advance… If you tell the Witcher that it’s a monster that is performing the killings, he looks around and tells you that it’s not a monster, but rather that the dead people got drunk and fell off a cliff. If the Engineer tells you that you can’t build a wall there because the land is not stable enough and the wall will fall over with the rains. If the Knight tells you that the man you want them to joust is unbeatable, then you listen to the expert.

“If the Mage tells you that it’s not a magical phenomenon and that it is, in fact, a perfectly normal land movement. You do what they are telling you. I am the world leading expert on Jack. This is not Jack.

“But this too, is not satisfactory. The original, less instinctive response as to why this is not Jack is this. Jack has rules that contain the way he works and behaves. They are not nice rules and we do not agree with them. But they are rules nonetheless. One of those rules is that he must follow a pattern. He must kill a certain type of person. In one instance, he killed Prostitutes. In another he killed people that had just made a declaration of love. He spent some time killing priests from particular sects. There was one memorable occasion where a city state had an accredited warrior system, where you had to pass tests and swear oaths in order to be called “warrior.” And that they acted a lot like the old Knight Errants did. Jack found it amusing to kill them for a while causing the system to fall out of use.

“There is no pattern here. There is no single box that all of these women could fall into. We thought we had a pattern at first, and indeed, those early women did fall into a pattern but then the pattern changed.

“Also, I respect Sir Guillaume as a Knight. And as swordsmen go, I am prepared to say that he is among the best I have ever seen. But in a one on one fight, even with my support. Jack would have toyed with him and killed him easily.”

There was some shifting in the seats.

“I remind everyone when it comes to that point.” Kerrass spoke up. “That when Jack was last in Toussaint, at a mere fraction of an imitation of what the full entity can be. Where someone stole some of his power and put it in a man that tried to kill himself in horror. It took four Witchers to finally put him down. After he had killed many Knights and soldiers of the Imperial guard. And even then, he let us take him.”

Silence fell for a moment.

“What was the pattern?” Lady Tonlaire asked. “What was the box you put those early victims in?”

“It was that the, then, only four victims involved were known to be either selective or completely avoiding of physical affection.” I said. “When we were looking for these things, there were only four victims and that was the connective tissue. Appoline was a barmaid, trapped in her job and unable to marry her sweetheart due to family pressure and illness. So she had to be kind to visitors to the inn but also remain celibate. There are untold numbers of bar staff around the world that are just like her, forced to be friendly, but not too friendly.

“Miss Donnet was known to be a beautiful young girl but utterly uninterested in romance or anything related to that. To the point that she intended to go to a nunnery to escape that element of societal pressure. As a result, she had rebuffed any number of sexual and romantic advances.

“Flower of the Night was, depending on who you ask, the best and most exclusive courtesan in Beauclair. To the point that she could select her clients with a discerning eye and turn away anyone that she wasn’t interested in.”

I saw Gregoire shift uncomfortably at that. I wasn’t waiting for it, but I was not surprised.

“And finally,” I went on. “The young Lady Matamara was one of the most eligible young women in Toussaint. Young, beautiful, intelligent, charming and commanding of a large dowry due to the affections of her father. As a result, she had already turned away many attempts at assignations and many more marriage proposals. Our information suggests that this was partly due to the actions of her father.”

Lady Tonlaire was nodding along with some of that. “Your pattern was broken with the death of Lady de Launfal.”

“It was. Suddenly, we go from the chaste, or relatively chaste, to the openly and proudly promiscuous. That was also the death where someone left me, personally, a message. But that, all but confirmed for me that it wasn’t Jack so we were able to start looking at it all in a whole new light.”

“What Lord Frederick doesn’t know.” Syanna spoke up. “Is that he brought his rough, reference copy of his research into Jack. The kind of book that stays in libraries. The publishable version is taken from that. Since he gave it to us…”

“Leant it.” I said. “I leant it to you. Those things cost hundreds of crowns.”

(Before anyone comes at me for how much money these books cost, I will stress, here and now, that I am not responsible for setting the price of these volumes. For that, you would have to contact my publisher in Oxenfurt. But given that the printers are a Dwarven company, do not be surprised when they send you a detailed list of reasons why it costs so much. When you get one, notice how little the “Author’s payment” is and register the fact that I have to share it with Lady Yennefer)

“Very well,” Syanna smiled as there was a small ripple of laughter that went round the room. “You leant it to us. But I had one of my more studious knights read the volume and after doing so he concurred… Well, let him tell us all himself.”

One of the Knights that I didn’t know spoke up. “I must agree with Lord Frederick.” The voice was high and boyish. “Jack would have stopped by now while he was still unknowable and mysterious. He would not have scrawled words in blood on a wall and his pattern would have been far easier to interpret. And Jack would never, ever, ever have walked into a trap. Or rather, he would, but then he would have walked out of the trap with all of the people that had been trying to trap him lying bleeding in a heap behind him. This is, in no way, Jack.”

There was some settling down after that and I was forced to wonder how many people were still a little bit nervous about whether or not this might have been Jack himself.

“However,” the Knight went on. “I would share with Lord Frederick, the concern that if we don’t bring this to an end soon, then Jack will come back to Toussaint.”

“Something to look forward to,” someone muttered darkly.

“So then your new theory started to take form.” Lady Tonlaire prompted.

“Yes.” I said. “I think that this grew out of the attempt on the life of Lady Vivienne. I think it was initially part of a plan to upset and derail the progress that was being made by the Knights of Saint Francesca. I think the attack on Appoline was one of frustrated lust and violence. They needed an outlet and then she occured to someone on their way… wherever they were going. After that, I think the idea of Jack occurred to someone, I have no idea who of course. I think they tested it out on Miss Donnet near the quarry as that attack was far from entirely successful.”

“Yes, that was another point” my unfortunately squeaky voiced Knightly scholar spoke up. “Jack would never be caught with his dick hanging out.”

There was a bit more laughter at the image.

“And then,” I went on, “they refined the process with Flower of the Night, and Lady Matamara. Also, while doing so, they were leaving a false trail away from who their real targets were.”

“Who were the real targets?” The Imperial officer Captain Carline asked.

“The real targets,” I answered. “were various people that would destabilise the government of Toussaint and erode faith in the Duchess herself and her chosen officials. I would guess that they had lofty goals of eventually targeting Syanna and the Duchess herself. They started with Lady de Launfal because they knew that Lord Palmerin was one of the most staunch supporters of the new way of doing things. If he could not protect his own wife then…” I shrugged to make my point.

“They killed Lady Moineau to clear the way for Alain de Moineau to remarry and also to facilitate their exit from the stage in framing Kerrass. They attempted to kill Lady Caroline when they realised that she was no longer in their control and then they killed Madame Duberton in an attempt to provoke the Empire into doing their job for them. It was a plot to remove the Duchess and replace her with a puppet that they controlled and could have married in order to take the throne for themselves. ”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because of what was going on with Lady Caroline. The use of Jack might have been an improvisation when they began to realise that they had overreached and underestimated Lady Vivienne. But the plan has been building since, probably, shortly after the Empress disbanded the Knights Errant. They sent Sir Alain to seduce and try to impregnate Lady Caroline. Then she would marry him when the way was clear which, also, would prove Sir Alain’s innocence in the plot. After all, who would suspect him after his own wife had been one of the ones that had been killed.

“Then when the attacks had completed their goal of removing the Duchess by either the assassin’s blade or at the hands of the growing dissatisfaction with her rule from the faction led by Sir Morgan, then they would have their replacement from the Ducal family, who was already married to Sir Alain, one of their own. The Duchess’ own, now dead, husband was the precedent that marrying into the Ducal family would make him Duke and the more intelligent members of the conspiracy would then control Toussaint through Alain who, lets face it, can be kept happy by the presence of a drink, an easy fight and a pretty face.”

“You said that you thought that they were framing Witcher Kerrass.” Lady Tonlaire said after everyone took that in. “Again, I’m not disagreeing with you, but why do you think that?”

“I think that the leader of this conspiracy is a clever person who is far too clever to get their own hands dirty.” I said. “I think this, because, the reason that this has all gone wrong for them is because of the presence of other people. The reason we know about Lady Caroline at all is because Alain did not do his job properly. Lady Caroline could tell you more but once Alain had got what he wanted from her, he essentially grew bored of her and then she had the opportunity to start properly thinking about what was going on. The attack on Lady Vivienne almost certainly went wrong because the attackers underestimated Lady Vivienne. I think the mastermind was furious that night.

“I even wonder if the original order was just to kill her, but instead, the people carrying out the attack decided to kidnap her in order to… well… have their way with her. And as a result, she had her window to fight back and escape.

“So if we accept that this leader is a clever man then they would know a couple of things. They would know that they might not be entirely successful. They targeted me for the message in order to distract us all. But they had to accept the possibility that we might figure some, or all of their plan out. They would also have to know that, being in command now, the Knight Commander and the Captain of the guard, would not rest if the killings just stopped. They would keep hunting until the murders had been solved.”

“Not unfair.” Captain de La Tour joked to some chuckling.

“So they came up with a scapegoat. Helped along by the fact that Lady Moineau had taken a shining to the Witcher who is one of the few people that could imitate the actions of Jack by himself. I mean he couldn’t, some of the things that were done are impossible without more than one person being involved, but to the courtier and the people on the street, it is believable.

“I even think that this is where it started to go wrong for them. The morning after Lady Moineau’s death, the first thing that the Knight Commander did was to arrest Kerrass. I think that the conspirators were expecting Syanna to be emotional in her response. I think they were expecting her to refuse to believe that Kerrass could be responsible because, of course, we knew that he wasn’t. So they could keep killing and the rumours of the fact that it would be Kerrass would continue to mount up and in the end, a quick manipulation would “prove” that Kerrass was impersonating Jack because… I dunno… Cat Witcher? I don’t say that this plan would have worked, but it would be enough to make the court and the people believe it.

“I would also point out to the fact that shortly after Kerrass was arrested, Sir Alain, who is the one person that we know to be involved, was outside Kerrass’ cell demanding his release. I think Alain panicked in seeing his scapegoat vanish before his eyes because he also knew that the next thing to happen was that someone else would be killed, thus proving that Kerrass was innocent.”

Lady Tonlaire had made some more notes. “So they don’t have a scapegoat ready now.”

“We don’t know.”

She nodded and made some more notes.

“I have a question.” The Imperial Officer asked. “If you know that Sir Alain is involved, then why not arrest him and question him. Torture him if necessary. It might be distasteful but such matters have cut through the rough before now.”

“If we accuse Sir Alain.” Syanna spoke. “Then he will demand to face his accusers and challenge them to a duel, which he will win. There is a reason that he is considered the finest swordsman in Toussaint. The only person that can come close enough that the outcome could go either way would be Lord Geralt. Who is not here. If we cut out that bit and just arrest him, question him and yes, torture him. Then we have no way of guaranteeing that the information he gives us is true.

“As Lord Frederick himself has written, a way to confound torture is to have prearranged and rehearsed information that can be given under duress in order to throw people off the scent. It might even be a pact that if any of the conspiracy do get arrested then they accuse another of their enemies in order to remove them from the field. How would we react if, for instance, Sir Gregoire was accused of being the mastermind of the conspiracy. Obviously by now we know that that wouldn’t be the case. But if you had told me that the day before yesterday, then I would have believed it.”

“Also,” of all people it was Lady Tonlaire. “If the information is gotten that way, then all the other people have to do is to say “We are innocent. He is a proven guilty person, you yourself have said so. He would do anything to save his own skin.” We could act on that kind of information but the instant you…” She sighed and scratched her head, “the instant we move against Alain, the others will have their warning and will have time to prepare their excuses and destroy the evidence.”

“The last point is a strategic one.” Syanna said. “This conspiracy needs destroying. If we let even one of these conspirators get away, then they will do this again. Not this year, not even next year but they will find a way to come at us again and that time, we might not see them coming. We need to pull this weed out by the roots. If we know about Alain then we can watch him and see who he’s associated with him. I would also remind everyone that we are only certain about Alain as of the early hours of yesterday morning. And since then, we have had other things on our mind.”

Lady Tonlaire had the good grace to look embarrassed.

“Right.” She said, swallowing her embarrassment. “You surely have some suspects?”

“And how did you get to them.” Gregoire rumbled. He was frowning in thought.

“Are you asking us whether you were on the list?” Guillaume wondered of his new friend. He asked carefully and a little bit gently.

Gregoire stiffened a little bit and tilted his head in thought.

“I didn’t think of it like that.” The big man admitted after a while. “But it does make sense. That doesn’t mean that the question doesn’t have merit however.”

“Quite right.” Syanna said. “The… what did the Colonel call it? The type of person that we were looking for.”

“He calls it “the profile.” the Nilfgaardian said before launching into a small speech that sounded like he was quoting something. “A group of characteristics, behaviour patterns and societal factors that might conspire to create the kind of criminal that we are looking for.”

“That’s good.” I commented. “I shall have to remember that.”

“There is a reason that the Empress assigns us to peacekeeping and law enforcement roles.” The Nilfgaardian said. “The Colonel has a talent for that kind of thing and his training on the subject is exemplary.”

“As I was saying,” Syanna spoke up. “The profile that we used to come to the list of suspects was built by Lord Frederick.”

I sighed, knowing that it was my time to shine again. I say shine, but it felt exactly like how I imagine that the carved duck feels when it gets set up at the sideshow in order for people to throw things at it.

“I cannot deny that the profile started to be built off two factors. The first is one of sheer capability. The first three suspected attacks, the attack on Lady Vivienne as well as Miss Appoline and Miss Donnet, could have been done by anyone. Indeed, I think it’s more than likely that those attacks were carried out by some… guardsman or flunky of the conspirators. The conspirators themselves would not be stupid enough to allow themselves to be caught attacking the wife of one of the strongest Knights of the realm and confidante of the Duchess. And there was a crudity about the attacks on Miss Appoline and an incompetence around the attack on Miss Donnet.

“So that is another factor. These people had to have flunkies. But then, according to Kerrass, it would have taken more than simple climbing ability to get to the roof top over the body of Night Flower. That would have taken a noble’s level of training. That makes the man a Knight or at least a professional soldier or acrobat.

“After that, the attack on Lady Matamara was done by someone that was highly skilled with a sword. He was able to kill several mercenaries that were no slouches according to Captain de la Tour. He was then able to lead the guard on a merry chase, fighting them off relatively easily. That speaks to a level of training that is greater than the standard norm. Even if there was more than one attacker… and what witnesses there are says that there was only one attacker at a time. Even then it would take more than a standard amount of sword training.

“So that was the beginning of our… profile. From there we were only given things that would add to the profile rather than cause us to change it. But I will come back to that.

“Given the costume that the attackers were wearing, it meant that the people knew about Jack. Also, there was a pattern to the attacks. Not much of one, but there was a pattern there. So I found it easy to imagine that there was a conversation somewhere where the conspirators got together and said “So, which attractive woman has had the bad form to deny our charming advances.” Before picking one that suited their requirements. That suggests a certain level of hatred and disdain for the female gender. Also a sense of entitlement that is on the more extreme ends of those kinds of sentiments as well as some education in order to have read about Jack.

“So that was how we drew up our list of suspects.”

I pulled over a piece of paper and drew a circle. “There is a name for this kind of diagram but I cannot remember what it is at the moment. The first circle is a list of people who have the necessary martial skills to be able to carry out the attacks that we had seen.”

I drew another circle to one side of the first but allowed a bit in the middle where the two circles overlapped.

“The second circle was made up of those people that were known to have been rejected by those women that had been attacked. Those people that were part of both circles…”

I shaded in the overlapping section.

“... made up our suspect pool. We could have refined the matter further using people with flunkies or servants that would be willing to partake of such… activities. But another factor occurred which was that, to get to that level of Martial training requires the ability to set aside time for the training and practise. Which means that the person would have to have money. And if a person has money, then they can hire people to do whatever the hell they like. So some of the factors were not as exclusive as we might think.

“At first we were dispirited because there were no real names that appeared to fulfill the criteria and I cannot speak for the others that were part of the investigation at the time, but I, for one, felt a small amount of despair at the factor. Until Kerrass was able to declare, a little more formally, that there was more than one person involved in the attacks which meant that the use of alibis or excuses was useless. So the number of people that could fall into both categories began to grow.

“Later attacks did not really change that original profile but rather added more factors to the matter. Lady de Launfal was rather freer with her affections than any of the previous victims. But even she was a little bit discerning. She would not have gone with a farmer, or a villager…”

“Unless they were uncommonly pretty to look at.” Guillaume said unhappily and a few people, including me looked at him in surprise. “Don’t get me wrong. I loved my Aunt a great deal, but I am aware of who she was becoming towards the back end of her life.” He scrubbed his eyes. “I interrupted Lord Frederick. Forgive me.”

“But…” I cleared my throat. “It was easy to understand how she might have been lured away from safer areas by the promise of an assignation with a young and handsome nobleman.”

“Or a noblewoman.” Guillaume muttered. Not too loud but it was audible. “Or a…”

I decided to keep talking. “So that would still fall into our overlap. The next victim, Lady Moineau is all but hidden from us. All we know is that Lady Moineau was killed, witnesses claim it was Jack and we know that Sir Alain had all the witnesses in the world to prove that it wasn’t him.”

“But there are more than one person in the conspiracy which means that his alibi is useless.” Lady Tonlaire was scribbling some notes as she spoke

“Later, when we spoke to Lady Caroline and learned the full scope of the plot. We were able to narrow and expand the field a little bit more. As that made it a political matter. Therefore, the killings could be political in nature. A man, a Knight, who would shudder at the thought of killing a young girl from a village would be a lot happier doing such a thing if he thought it was for the benefit of the realm.”

“Especially if that benefit of the realm meant for the benefit of himself.” Gregoire commented with just a shade of the bitterness of old.

“And the attack against Lady Caroline, not only proved the complicity of Sir Alain, but also that we were on the right lines.”

“How did it prove that Alain was involved?” Someone asked.

“Because we leaked Lady Caroline’s location to him.” Guillaume said. “He had been hanging around and insisting on Kerrass’ innocence for a while. So I approached in an effort to complain about the same kinds of things. I let things slip and after that… Lo and behold, Jack appeared. It is another reason we are concerned for friend Alain, the rest of the conspiracy must be aware that we have identified him after all.”

“Not very honourable of you.” Gregoire muttered dryly.

“Nonsense.” Guillaume declared. “In the face of an honourless enemy, it is far more honourable to remove such people in order to make the world a better place.”

“After that, the most recent attack was more brutal than anything that had come before.” I said. “But it also doesn’t cause us to change that original… profile as to who our enemies were.”

“So who made the list?” Lady Tonlaire asked. “And who has since been disqualified from the list.

“We know that Sir Alain was on the list.” I said. “He fulfills all the criteria for one but he’s one of the few that are left. We also thought that your husband, Sir Morgan Tonlaire was involved in some way.”

She stiffened, not in shock or insult, but more as her head went to another way of thinking. “I can see why you thought that.” She said. “He does fit the pattern and despite his recent loss to a better man, he is a skilled swordsman. But my husband would not have agreed to the deaths of any of those women. Nor would he be stupid enough to ignore what was happening. If he is involved…”

She smirked unhappily.

“If he is involved at all, I can easily believe that he is a primed… Attack dog. Some charming conspirator will have talked to him, got him ready to attack when this or that happened so that when a death occured, they would not need to hesitate, my husband would already be there with all the outrage that his breeding and training could muster. I would suggest that he is a pawn rather than anything more important.”

“Do you know if he was ever approached to be actively part of the plot?” Syanna wondered. “Did anyone ever talk to him about his dissatisfactions and try to figure out if he would be open to such things.”

“I am unsure. My husband has positioned himself correctly so that whenever people have things to complain about, they go to him. He absolutely believes that he has the best interests in Toussaint at heart. Even when he thinks and believes in the utter opposite of what he had years ago, or even months, weeks and days ago. I’ve seen him argue different sides of the same debate in the course of the same evening and everything he says is for the “benefit of Toussaint,” before complaining about the fact that no-one seems to listen to him. If he was more self-aware he might have realised that the reason no-one listens to him is partially because of his wandering convictions.”

“Does he do it consciously?” I heard myself wonder.

“He used to.” She admitted. “Back when we were still trying to build our influence base. But after a while, it became more and more instinctual to the point where it just became second nature. Like a reflexive… thing in order to stay on the right side of the debate. Even when it had changed.”

She sighed and shook her head free of the bitter nostalgia trip before continuing.

“Unfortunately, that means that I cannot say for certain who it was that might have been whispering in his ear about all of this. It is even possible that there are genuine people that were nervous about what was happening in the mix as well. People who genuinely think what this conspiracy want us to believe. There might even be intermediaries between him and the people that are doing this.

“There was also,” I went on. “A significant time where Sir Gregoire was on the list of suspects.”

The big man sniggered at that before shrugging and nodding.

“Not unfair.” He said. “But why specifically, other than me being me.”

“There were several reasons.” Syanna spoke up. “And to be fair it was something that Lord Frederick in particular was not too impressed with as he thought we were making assumptions.”

“Which we were.” Captain de La Tour added, rubbing his head with embarrassment.

“It was undoubted by anyone that you had the skills needed to do the things that the Jack figure were doing. Even though there was an argument that the Jack that we were seeing was smaller physically than you are, and also that the tools that he was using were not the kind of tools that any of us could imagine you using. There was also the factor that you were on the lists of having been turned away by all four of the first women. It was also suggested by Lord Matamara that you were the one who accosted and… assaulted the person of his daughter at a ball some time ago.”

Sir Gregoire’s face darkened reflexively at that.

“I suppose I deserve that.” He said after sighing and visibly setting the reflexive anger aside. “Although it wasn’t me that night. I can see why Lord Matamara would want to accuse me.”

He sighed again and took a step forward.

“To talk through the different women and to give you the perspective of what they all looked like as an outsider and what was going on…”

“I hasten to add that you are not a suspect any longer Sir Gregoire.” Syanna said with a smile.

This time Gregoire laughed along with a few other people.

“So I should hope.” He said. “Apart from anything else, Lady de Launfal would never have gone anywhere near me. Not that I ever asked her.” He added that last with a sidelong look at Guillaume.

“The outsider’s perspective would be useful.” Lady Tonlaire said. She was frowning in disapproval of something. I have no idea what it was.

“Running down the list then.” Gregoire moved round the table and poured himself a drink as he spoke. “Appoline to start. I knew of Appoline, same as everyone did. The problem there was that the Cockatrice is the busiest inn and tavern in Toussaint. There was absolutely no way that I could ever go through that place and not be “In character” so to speak and whenever I was there, I would almost become some kind of sideshow attraction as people would gather round me to see how close to pissing me off they could get before I actually lost my temper. As I say, I knew of Appoline although I didn’t know her. She was friendly towards me, but plainly intimidated by me and so I did my best not to bother her.

“The only time we had any kind of real interaction was when I made the proposition that people are probably talking about. There were a group of other men in the inn. I have no idea who they were and I have not seen any of them around since. I think they were a set of guards for a trading caravan at some point, but they were leering and being unpleasant towards Appoline, asking how much she charged for a roll in the hay, that kind of thing. I couldn’t interfere without betraying my “character” at the time because I had a tournament coming up and people were paying a fortune to see what was going to happen.

“So instead I made a big scene of losing my temper, loudly and violently insisting that Appoline was MY woman and that she shouldn’t be serving at tables anyway. I made a big scene to her father about how he had refused my many demands as to her virtue, that she hadn’t been allowed to join me as my mistress and how dare he be suggesting that she… and on and on I went. I threatened the men and threw them out for daring to suggest that I would be so weak as to allow them to touch MY Appoline before loudly yelling at her father, the innkeeper, that I expected my answer for her virtue sooner rather than later.

“I then stormed out and every time I went to the Cockatrice since I demanded an answer from her father as to whether or not I could take her as my mistress, offering increasingly ludicrous sums of money for the privilege of taking her virtue and carrying her off to my manor so that she can… well… I got rather crude. Her Father never got the joke but I like to think that Appoline saw what I was doing.

“There were certainly occasions where her denials and her protests were a little more theatrical than they needed to be, or that I had seen her employ with people that were less savoury than I was. I certainly found that when she was “forced” to serve my table that I would get the larger portions of food, the freshest bread and things. And although we never spoke about it, when no one was looking and she had her back to the rest of the room, she would smile.”

He paused in thought, smiling at a memory.

“The line was that I never touched her. Never. Not even as part of the ruse, although I took great delight in touching some of the men that were off colour with her. Them, I had no trouble touching until I threw them over the bridge and into the water below.

“I was never in any doubt though. It was plain to see that her heart was given elsewhere and that she was looking forward to being able to tell her father to fuck off and leave her alone so that she could marry the person that she wanted to. Poor girl”

He took a long drink before shaking himself from whatever he had been thinking about.

“Miss Donnet was a similar case but kind of different. It has long been a cause of concern for me. I am required to marry in order to carry on my line but getting near enough to any woman in order to come up with any kind of romance so that they could see who I am really and we could come up with some kind of arrangement has been difficult, if not impossible. I had heard of the beauty that lived in the barge village before I went there in order to order some stone to help get some repairs down to my manor. I was aware of her situation and her distaste for any kind of physical affection or romance so an idea occurred to me.

“I approached her when I was sure that no-one was looking and made her a proposition. I had heard about her desire to go to a nunnery in order to carry on and complete an education but her father was reluctant. I said that if she married me then I would pay for all the tutors and books that she could want, including paying for her to travel to Oxenfurt or wherever she wanted to go in order to carry on her education. And that way, people would leave her alone and she wouldn’t have to worry about things. And then, if she preferred the spirituality idea, then I could send her to the nunnery under the guise of… I was her husband now and what I said mattered. Or she could sit in the manor and read and she didn’t need to see me for anything other than social engagements.”

He sighed.

“It was a weak moment for me. It happens occasionally, or rather I should say, it used to happen occasionally. Being the villain of every tournament and sideshow is grating after a while and I rather saw someone that I shared something with, that of being an outcast. Being like me, I had no real friends because society forced me into the way of being a villain. She was beautiful but couldn’t get past the fact that people expected her to get married and enjoy the romance of the thing. I wanted a friend. I promised her that if she didn’t want anything then she never had to have me anywhere near her and that I would adopt someone if I needed an heir. I was not shy about the fact that to get any physical affection I would need to pay for it anyway. I hoped that she might be a friend.

“I will admit that she was very attractive and there was a very male hoope that, in the long run, she might change her mind. But even so… I like to think that the sentiment was genuine. She seemed, not averse to the idea and I approached her father. It did not go well. She shrugged and went back to her book. I will not lie, I had got my hopes up and her dismissal hurt more than it should have done.”

He sighed again at another memory.

“Night Flower was pride. I make no bones about that. I was a champion, I was wealthy, I wanted the best and she was the best. There is some complexity there with Anne as well that I am still getting to grips with. I can’t claim to understand all of it so don’t ask me to explain it yet. I don’t know the answer. I understand that part of the reason that she would decline me and pass me over to Anne was because she was aware that what I actually needed was some love and affection. And Anne was better at providing that than she was. She was right and again, I am left feeling that I let her down.

“Now we come to Lady Matamara. And this is fucking awful. She was one of the most eligible unmarried young ladies in Toussaint. I proposed to her in the same way that every unmarried male proposed to her. As someone has said, she was intelligent, charming, funny, educated and of course, she was beautiful. Any man would consider himself lucky to have that woman on his arm and I cannot pretend any different.

“In the cold analysis of the matter I would suppose that she was a bit young for me but I was accepting of the fact that I could not afford to be choosy. I was proposing to anyone that I thought might be accepting of things, or might be intelligent enough to see through what I was doing with my character and public persona. I thought she was one. And she was, I think but her father would have had none of it. I had proposed, partially, because it was expected of me. I did not doubt that it would get nixed by her father if not by the girl herself but sometimes you do these things because you feel as though it’s necessary. Of course, she turned me down although she was more graceful about it than some people have been in the past.

“Her father was less accommodating.

“As for the party where she was attacked. I hope that, by now, it is clear that I did not attack that girl. Indeed, I would have defended her if I got the chance. She was a good woman, one of the few and I count myself lucky that I am going to be marrying another one of them. I did speak with her that day. As I admitted before, I was unhappy and I was lonely and I was hoping that she might have been willing to talk to her father on my behalf. She was kind enough to make it clear that she was not able to and that she wasn’t particularly willing to. I was not particularly surprised. Disappointed certainly, but not surprised.

“Who was it that attacked her that day? I think it was Raoul LeBlanc. I saw him trying to tug her into the gardens and I saw that she was unhappy with the thought. She got free of him that time before they got into the gardens. I suppose he could have made another attempt later though. I heard her scream when it happened, I didn’t know what was happening but those gardens are like a maze. By the time I got anywhere close to them, having to take many detours on the way, she had already pulled free of her attacker and had fled to her father. My reputation was entrenched enough that no-one would listen to what I thought and the girl was safe. Should I have done better? Yes, almost certainly.

“Another suspect might have been Sir Alain who was also there and trying to make a pass at her. I think she was too clever for that though.

It is easy for me to believe it of both of them. I can well imagine Alain getting annoyed when his advances were rejected before going too far. And Raoul would have been able to hide behind his reputation and preserve his innocence so… He would not have any problem with assaulting the girl and then claiming innocence before passing the blame onto me.”

The big man shrugged.

That sounded a little bleak for everyone. That it was so easy for people to take advantage of the system in order to just… do what they want.

“When…” Syanna cleared her throat and tried again. “When we went to see Lord Matamara, he claimed that it was you that assaulted his daughter. We rather thought that he was lying though, but can you explain to us why he would have possibly blamed you in the first place?”

Gregoire’s face had darkened a little before again, he swallowed that anger and let go of it. It rather occurred to me that this was going to be his life for a while, where he would hear about people believing the worst of him before throwing him to the wolves. There were going to be a lot of people saying “We always thought that it was a bit suspect” and “We never believed it was you, really, we were always on your side.” I think he’s going to really struggle with keeping his temper over the years.

Still, with the benefits of knowing that he was right, the love of a good woman and the affection of some good friends, that would soon mean that he will be able to see through the sycophants.

“Why would he blame me?” He grumbled. “Because it’s so obviously believable. The fact that people in this room would so obviously believe it to be the truth is testament to that.” He sighed and shifted his weight. “My attitude towards women is far from perfect and with Anne’s help, I shall certainly work on that. But as to why he would blame me?” He shrugged. “Just as it is so easy to believe in all the dark and evil things that I have so easily committed, are there other people of whom it is impossible to believe?”

There was a lot of muttering and exchanging of glances.

“Further to that,” Gregoire was not finished calling out hypocrisy. “You are all labouring under a misconception. You believe that Toussaint is the fairytale Kingdom where Good and Evil exist, where good Knights wear Golden armour and evil ones wear black and dull armour. You believe that there are two sides of everything. Where people are good and honourable men and women, or they are evil and scheming men and women.”

I saw the point hit home with Lady Tonlaire and she started nodding as Gregoire continued.

“You all look down on those people that are either unable to, or unwilling to, serve the Ducal crown before you realise that for some people, that is simply not possible. The truth is that Toussaint is far more complicated than that. And the majority of people are just struggling to get by. I don’t know what the truth of the matter is, I don’t know why Lord Matamara didn’t want to tell you who actually molested his daughter, but I can guess.

“In order to maintain my standard of living, I have been forced to lean into my reputation. To keep my manor maintained and my lands productive, to keep my servants paid and my workers in food, shelter and the rest, I have been forced to be what everyone else has always expected me to be. The dastardly, dark, pitiless and honourless Knight. It has made me a lot of money over time. But in the long run, In the next few years I will no longer be able to maintain that charade. Ten years after that, I will struggle to even compete, let alone win. It is why my change in career could not have come at a better time.

“I was still competing because I knew all of this. If I lived day to day I would be fine, but how will I keep everything going in the years to come? I have invested in trading companies. Other landowners have similar concerns. Toussaint is not self-sufficient. It is one of the reasons that, from what I have heard, this plot cannot be allowed to succeed. These Knights and men think we are impervious to military conquest, I don’t know enough about that but my banker is quite clear. Without trade, Toussaint dies. So I trade my goods with certain people and interests. I am forced to go outside of Toussaint for this because of my reputation. But in order to make their money. In order to trade for the goods and services that are essential to our way of life. People need to invest their money and trade with other concerns. Lord Matamara will not be an exception to this.

“Someone will have attacked his daughter. They will have a hold over Lord Matamara so that if the Lord made a proper accusation then Lord Matamara’s investments or trade or… whatever, would have suffered. The arithmetic for him would have been simple and he will have hated himself for it. His daughter was dead. There was nothing else he could do about it. Blame me, and if he was caught in the lie, he could say that he assumed, or that his daughter lied to him. But his sons and the future of his lands and his people would need to survive.

“That is what I think happened. He made a choice to protect his land and his people over his, and his daughter’s integrity. Would anyone here say that they would have made the same decision.”

Silence fell after that little speech. It struck me for a moment, to ask whether or not he had said as much to so many in so short a space of time before. It could have gone either way I thought.

The mood of the room was a little strange, strange enough that I couldn’t quite read it properly. There was some chagrin there and some embarrassment. And it was a while before we noticed that Syanna was laughing.

“Ah Gregoire.” She said. “All that time ago, when I first came back to Toussaint, I should have gone to you to help me overthrow my sister. But you misread the room a little and do us all a disservice.”

Gregoire frowned. “Knight Captain…”

“No Gregoire.” She said, staying seated. “I command here and it is my turn to speak. There is a time and place for your little speech but it is not this time or this place. Not because we have more important things to do and talk about, which we do, but because you are yelling at people who have already made their choices. Lord Frederick would never allow himself to be in such a position as you describe. He would ensure that his lands and his people would be protected first and ensure that the land provided that. Anything else would be a bonus and he would prioritise the land and the people over his own quality of life. That is the reason that he and his family make so many of his fellow nobles nervous.

“Witcher Kerrass is not a landowner and his honour is his own. Sir Guillaume is only recently landed and although he stands to inherit his uncle's lands and title, he would also not allow things to get to that state.

“Captain de La Tour lives by the grace of the Duchess and has strived, to change things from within, a crusade that was hampered by his birth. Lady Tonlaire is trying to redeem herself. Nilfgaardians are taught that the primary purpose of Nobility is to serve the state in the person of the Imperial throne and that all other measures are secondary. We should all of us count ourselves lucky that Empress Cirilla is a benevolent dictator and Goddess. Because that is what she is to the people of the Older Empire and, I suspect, to the North as well before too much longer.

“And as for me? I saw everything that you are talking about. And I agree with it. I ran down the wrong path and I caused untold pain and misery in doing so, to so many people. Including a Vampire that deserved better at my hands. But here I am, trying my best to keep Toussaint safe. Toussaint, not the nobles, or the Knights. Not even the workers in the fields and quarries. But all of them. To try and change the culture towards one of service first.

“Your point about why Lord Matamara is well made. Your anger at the way that Toussaint has treated you is also understandable. Your anger towards us for our prejudices are deserved but you will notice that we have set those aside in light of your recent actions when your older actions did nothing other than to reinforce that stereotype. Which you confess to. The moment that you proved otherwise and showed your true colours, we took you in.”

Her voice, and gaze hardened.

“But do not lecture us Sir Gregoire. The people in this room are the ones who have already seen what you describe and are trying to make the world a better place. It is you that have come late to it, and I remind you that you were invited to come when all of this started.”

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Sir Gregoire had listened to all of this impassively. “You are right of course. I… I am not used to being on this side of the debate.”

“And that is understandable.” Syanna said, her voice quiet again. “We will learn to work together and your perspective is invaluable. You have much to teach us, you have much to teach me. But save your condmentations for those that do not see that they have much to learn.”

Gregoire nodded. “I too, have much to learn. I apologise to the assembly.”

“No need to apologise in my opinion.” De La Tour said. “We could all do with a reality check every so often. But someone said that we had better things to do and talk about here. That person was right. Can we get back on track?”

There was some chuckling around the table including a smile from Gregoire and a glint in Syanna’s eye that suggested something.

“What I would like to say is this.” De La Tour went on. “Gregoire, your ruse regarding your reputation and character was so effective that you fooled us in this room, barring Witcher Kerrass and Lord Frederick of course. And we include some of the foremost investigators of the realm. I would therefore suggest that it is not unfeasible that your pretense might have fooled some of the people on the other side. Have you ever been approached by other people in order to be recruited into a conspiracy or club or… in order to get your influence and expertise to support this side or that side in the court?”

The Guard Captain smirked. “Fuck,” he said, “it’s almost a shame that your new character and life was changed so publicly, otherwise we could use you as an undercover infiltrator in order to inform us about all the people that might be trying to take advantage of the matter. The same with lady Tonlaire for that matter.”

“The Lady Tonlaire factor is part of her punishment.” Syanna reminded De La Tour.

“That is true.” He admitted. “The Duchess can be devious in some ways but far too naive in others. We could have used that. But my questions are still valid.”

The room laughed at, and with him. Damien is another man that can be selectively clever and stupid at the same time and I wonder if he had realised that the room needed some levity.

“The answer is, yes.” Gregoire said. “Yes, people try to recruit me all the time. So many that it’s almost impossible to say this or that, them or they. It’s… a little upsetting to tell the truth but it also means that we can’t see the tree for the forest. The other problem that my reputation has caused in that direction is that… if you didn’t trust me because of my reputation as a villain, then the other side didn’t want to confide in me because they knew that I would be under suspicion and therefore, they wanted to avoid me. I am a little too difficult to hide in a crowd after all. And I sometimes feel that people would be nervous of me losing my temper or otherwise… I don’t know… drawing attention towards the plot.”

He chuckled. “Even Sir Morgan tried to recruit me to his faction on more than one occasion.”

We all laughed at that, including Lady Tonlaire..

“The problem for me,” Gregoire took up his speech again, “is trust. I have been playing a character for so long that there have been times where I don’t know where Gregoire de Gorgon, the Brute of Beauclair stops, and I begin. A side effect of all of that though is that I don’t believe people when they come to me. Are they approaching Gregoire, or are they approaching the Brute of Beauclair. Whenever people do start things like this up, the justification is always the same. And what they start with is always a recruitment phrase. Something nice to sell to you.

“I hope Lady Tonlaire doesn’t become too offended if I tell the room that the thing that her husband said to try and tempt me was “a group of gentlemen that are working to return Toussaint to a more traditional standpoint”.”

“Sounds about right.” The lady herself said.

“No-one ever leads with… “By the way, we are working to overthrow the Duchess, do you wanna join in?” or “We hate women, we are angry that we can’t get away with just taking any pretty girl that we like whether she is willing or not and we intend to do so anyway.” They must work up to it. Both so as not to drive me away, but also to justify to themselves that they are doing good things deep down. If it was pointed out to Lord Tonlaire that his actions amounted to Treason, then I imagine that he would be shocked and appalled that that was the case. Indeed, as I recall, he was.

“And when we catch the bastards that are doing this, I would also not be surprised at all if they are similarly appalled if we confront them with the obvious treason involved in their actions. As well as the horrific things that they have done to these women. They will say, “of course we are not trying to overthrow the Duchess. We just want to guide her towards proper wisdom.” Or “These women were just a means to an end. Shame about Lady Matamara to be sure as she was a good girl but, she was a Lady of Toussaint and she would be happy to know that her death will go on to serve Toussaint”.”

He grimaced in anger.

“And when some fuck stands before me and says that they don’t know which one Miss Donnet was, or says something disparaging about Appoline, something like “She was just a tavern wench” then I might need to be restrained.

“I didn’t join any of those clubs or secret conspiracies because those people disgust me. I would honestly be more inclined to join one of those causes if they had been honest enough to walk up to me and say “The quality of Knighthood has declined sharply and we intend to do something about it.” I would have attended a meeting and listened to what they meant by “Quality” but beyond that…”

He shrugged.

“So I have no new suspects for you I’m afraid. Alain is an obvious suspect. I would have agreed that Morgan needed to be on a list of suspects. I would give him the credit that he would never do some of the disgusting things that have actually been done here, but I could easily have believed that he could send some people to do something despicable. He would be the kind of man that would hire the most horrible person he could find, knowing full well that the mercenary would rape and do horrible things to the woman that he was sent after, then Morgan could be all properly outraged as he had the moral distance set up for him.

“I would have suggested Raoul. Le Blanc as is. That man is a snake, skilled with a sword and has enough disdain for women to be able to do this kind of thing. Except he would not be caught. He would not risk anything that might… go wrong for him. He would not be involved in such a society or club except on the edges of it. Or if he was, then he would have things in place in order to… He would have a scapegoat, or he would have had flunkies, minions to do the work for him. And some of the men that work for him are equally as bad. But Raoul would not risk having one of them turn around and say that it was him. He would want to be able to deny everything that was happening.”

Syanna nodded. I was frowning in thought. Something that Gregoire had said was tickling the back of my brain. The same way that an answer to a question can stay just out of reach. You can see it, you know that you know the answer, it’s just there, just out of reach. I desperately wanted another cup of coffee but I could feel the jitters in the ends of my fingers and Ariadne had once told me that when it gets to that stage, then you need to take a step backwards.

Nor could I have a nap which is my other favourite way to allow an answer to float towards the top of my brain. I realised that I was about to doze off and shook myself awake before I fell forward onto the table, or fell off my chair.

Syanna was speaking.

“Does anyone else have any suspects to share? Any thoughts or names that fall into the categories that Lord Frederick described? Remember what we are looking for there. Ability with a sword, a disdain for women, political aspirations. Or someone who could lay their hands on any or all of those things. It had not occurred to me that some of the attackers could be mercenaries. Is there much of an avenue for that kind of thing in Toussaint Damien?”

“There is not.” The Guard Captain said. “There are many gifted swordsman in Toussaint and some of them are mercenaries. But most of the mercenaries that come to Toussaint are Caravan guards. To have the kind of talent with the sword that would be required to face Lady Matamara’s guards before fighting off a bunch of my guards. That would take more talent than those people that are currently wintering in Toussaint. The real talent is off in the fight against Vergen and Cidaris anyway.”

He shook his head. “Caravan duty is for untested blades and old hands. And certainly anyone that is here for the winter since the passes closed would not fit the bill. That level of talent needs training. There were two nights where a man with training was guaranteed. The first was the death of Lady Matamara, the second was in the fight against Guillaume. I don’t think that Guillaume would disagree if I said that he might not be the most skilled duellist in the realm, but as a fighter, there are few that could stand up to him. Let alone survive. His skills since his marriage have only improved.

“The death of Lady Moineau in her grounds, although there are witnesses that say that he was a skilled fighter, I don’t think we can entirely believe those witnesses as they may be complicit. The other attacks could have been done by any random servant or private guard. Indeed, I would be surprised if the death of Miss Donnet turned out to be anything other than some amateur who was sent out to do the job.”

“He did fight off several men that night.” Kerrass reminded the guard.

“It does not take much training to knock a few… forgive me… common folk senseless.”

“There is also the matter of the death of Madame Duberton.” Guillaume added. “That needed the attackers… because we’re pretty sure that there was more than one attacker was there not?”

“Undoubtedly.” Kerrass put in.

“Then even then, to do things that quickly would need men of skill and strength. So there are several attacks that needed skilled swords as part of them. But I have had a thought about the man that fought me.

“Oh?” Syanna said with a raised eyebrow. It must be some level of breeding. Or something that you get trained to do from a young age if you have high noble blood. Or maybe…. I don’t know. I’ve seen Lady Yennefer, Ciri, The Duchess, Syanna and Cerys all perform the trick of raising one eyebrow in question. And it takes a strong person not to wither away in front of that kind of gaze.

I wonder how they do it.

“Yes.” Guillaume went on. “And I think I have another name for the lists of suspects. Lord Velles, Sir Velles or whatever he is. The merchant.”

I could not suppress a moan at the name. “Flame I hope not.” I muttered. I did not think anyone heard me.

“Why do you say that?” Syanna wondered of Guillaume.

“Ok… Right. The man that fought me was good. Very good in fact. He was quick, strong and he had stamina. All of the things that a man should have for that kind of work. So he had training, of that I am sure. Now we move on to some gut feelings. I cannot tell you why I think some of these things, but I do. In fact I am convinced of them.

“The man that I fought was not taught to fight in Toussaint. They have had some training here and have taken on some of our techniques. But the basis of their stance, the placement of their feet, the way that they held their weapons. No man of Toussaint would hold his blade like that.”

“Can you replicate the stances that he used?” Kerrass said. “I have seen men fight all over the continent.”

“Not easily.” Guillaume said. “My own muscle memory is hard to… Ok. Sir Knight,” He addressed the Nilfgaardian “May I borrow your sabre?”

The black armoured officer drew and offered, the hilt held over the forearm. Guillaume grimaced as he took it. “I understand the logic of a lighter blade.” He admitted “But I can’t agree, still….” He pulled his glove off and took up the sword. Then he frowned as he twisted his fingers around the wire grip. Even then he still wasn’t satisfied. “It was close to that, the guard interferes with the extension of the forefinger.”

Kerrass got up and went round the table to examine the grip for a moment, Gregoire too bent to look before Guillaume had to place the sword on the table, wringing his hand as he did so.

“That’s a northern grip.” Kerrass said. “They use that sort of thing along the Pontar valley. It’s meant for a heavier sword than that one. Toussaint blades are heavier but balanced towards the blade in an effort to get through armour, whereas the Northern blades are balanced with the weight further down the hilt. If they need to get through armour, they have a mace for that kind of thing. Swords are for killing peasants who wear a glorified blanket as armour.”

“Also,” Guillaume went on. “He had an old injury. Isn’t it Lord Velles that claims that he fought at the battle of the Line outside Vizima and was captured after he was injured.”

“Yes it is.” I said. “Yes, that’s him. Although, the joke that was said at the time when he told me, was that if everyone who claimed that they fought at the Line was actually there, then it would have been like Brenna and far more decisive for the Southern war effort.”

The Nilfgaardian man laughed at that.

“Why do you hope it isn’t him Lord Frederick?” Syanna asked.

“He’s a friend of my brothers.” I told them all. “Sam has been struggling with everything and he needs some friends. Not only that, but we were hoping that the introduction might be the beginnings of a bridge over the rift that is growing in my family.”

“Freddie…” Syanna began unhappily.

“I know I know.” I said. “If he’s involved in something this evil then I don’t want him anywhere near my brother. It’s just, I hope it’s not him.”

“Friedde.” She began again. “You and the rest of your family are idealised in Toussaint. After getting to know you a bit better, I can absolutely understand why. You are rare people. But I did not like the younger of the two brothers and I cannot say that I will be sorry if he is inconvenienced. We have to pursue this.”

“I know.” I said. “I just hope it isn’t him.”

She nodded. “Alright. What can people tell me about Velles?”

“He’s a merchant.” Guillaume said. “From what I understand, he’s a fairly good one. Especially given that he only started in the trade relatively recently. He claims to have fought at the battle of the line outside Vizima but he himself acknowledges the fact that that is virtually impossible to prove either way. He certainly has military training and from what I understand he is pretty good with a sword. However the injury that he sustained during the battle of the line, or elsewhere, means that he cannot keep up any more.”

“How does that track with the person you fought?” Syanna asked.

“It would all fit. The man I fought was good, if I had to depend on hunches then I would also say that he was not as good as he used to be. He had the feeling about his fighting that he was relying on experience more than he should have. I have no doubt that I would have beaten him eventually and he knew the same thing. It was an odd fight, I didn’t want to kill him which hampered me and he wanted to get away, so all my opponent was trying to do was to create some room between us so that he could do precisely that. If it had been a straight fight to the death then I think it would have been over far quicker.”

“That’s not a lot for us to work on.” Syanna said. “It’s more supposition. I mean, it all fits but there is nothing there that we can point to and say “He’s the man. He did it.” Lord Frederick, you might know more about his mercantile business. Is there anything else you can tell us?”

I sighed unhappily. “I only have what Emma told me. He is a good merchant but he’s about to hit the ice ceiling of the fact that he’s trying to do all of this by himself. He is a lone operator and those kinds of merchants can only go so far before they have to start working with someone else. They need to expand their territory or start working with partners or one of the other countries. According to her, sooner or later, there is only so much money that can be made if you are a merchant just working by yourself.

“I will admit that I liked him but I rather thought that he was putting his guise on. He’s a merchant after all and part of what you have to sell is yourself. Which is what the whole “I fought at the battle of the line” is about. True or not, and I don’t think it really matters, it portrays him as a man of duty and a man of honour. It’s meant to get you to trust him even when you have every reason not to. Emma said that his ideas and schemes were sound enough when she talked to him. He didn’t try to over reach with her or with his expectations regarding what he could do for Sam. All she would say of him in that regard was that he was reluctant to sign up to the Coulthard company or any of the other companies that around the continent. He wanted to be his own master but, in the long run, that would limit the amount of money that he could make.”

Syanna nodded. “Does anyone know anything more about him?”

“You can find a dozen like him in the markets of Toussaint.” Damien said. “I keep an eye on them because the majority of the work of a guard is in keeping their stall holders and caravan guards from killing each other in the height of summer. He’s one of those men that Toussaint cannot live without, he takes the wines and olive oil that we make and takes it north to be sold in all the places that you can expect. He brings back all the tools and basic things that we cannot produce wine or Olive oil without. Barrels, nails and such like. He keeps his nose clean, as far as I know he doesn’t try and get anything too obscene past the border inspections. He pays his taxes on time, doesn’t get more drunk than he needs to in order to be properly sociable and when he does find a girl to sleep with, he doesn’t mistreat them.”

“Sounds pretty boring.” Syanna said. “Anyone else have anything?”

“He’s ambitious.” Lady Tonlaire said. “He seems to have plans far above his station and as well as what Lord Frederick says, above his ability as well. His current iteration will only take him so far and if you pushed me, I would say that he lives slightly above his means. He has expensive taste and is often heard to complain that he cannot get more for his money. Back when the Knights Errant were first disbanded, he was one of those merchants that complained about the new order of things being done. You know, with proper border inspections and incorruptible guards.

“He was dismayed by how much money he had to waste by bringing things across the border above board and all legal like. If he has a motive to be involved with the conspiracy, it won’t be the women or the power. It’s going to be about the money involved.”

Syanna grunted as she took all of that in before she shook her head.

“It’s still not… I can see it. I might even agree that he bears looking at. But is there anything we can act on here? We have Guillaume’s hunch about who and what he was fighting which is compelling to be sure. We also have a theory as to why he might be involved.”

“It’s possible that he’s been pressured into it.” I heard myself say. “He has money, but not that much money, the other members of the conspiracy could have talked him into it. I struggle to think that he would found a conspiracy like this one, but I could see him joining something that might make him more money and then him being dismayed by how far it went.”

“I can see all of that.” Guillaume agreed. “Except there was no-one out there holding a knife to his throat when he fought the two of us outside the cottage. He could have surrendered, stood down, asked for help… Any number of things. He’s as complicit as the next person here. Was he pressured? Maybe but he still owns the amount to which he is involved here.”

I nodded unhappily.

“And again,” Syanna said. “Your sister and her efforts are the exception to the rule. I have known a lot of merchants in my time and the sheer number of them that would sell their mothers for a quick mark by far outweigh the number of merchants that were trying to make an honest living. I have read the histories of your family. Your father was a war profiteer in that he predicted the Nilfgaardian invasion and sold his stock of weapons and equipment to Redania. That he was a patriot is undeniable but from another standpoint…” She shrugged. “Your sister has the luxury of being able to be noble about the way she conducts her business but it is a luxury that not all merchants have.”

She sighed and rubbed her head. “I apologise, Lord Frederick. That came out far harsher than I meant it to. I respect and admire your sister and your father saw an opportunity to lift himself and his family up.”

“He did.” I admitted. “But that does not change that what he did was, as you say, war profiteering. And I cannot say that I am sorry that he did it.”

She nodded in response to that.

“I’m not happy with the Velles suggestion.” She said. “I can see it and it all fits but I agree with the sentiment that he is not the mastermind. There is the benefit that we can accuse him, search his house and warehouse and we will get away with it given that he is a foreigner, but in the long run, that might cause more harm than good to the other foreigners that we have to deal with. We need more. Anyone else have a suspect?”

There was a whole bunch of exchanging glances. Other than the Nilfgaardian Knight.

“To be clear.” Syanna said, biting her words off in irritation. “This is a question for the locals in the room. We know more people than people like Lord Frederick. Who else could, who else would, let’s start to think a little bit outside the box.”

Lady Tonlaire took a deep breath. “I have something.”

“Go on.”

“It astonishes me that Sir Raoul isn’t on the list of suspects. Twice now I have heard his name mentioned, even in this room as well, but you all seem to skip over it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it seems pretty obvious to me looking back. He has all of the factors that you describe. He is not the best swordsman in Toussaint when you compare him to someone like Alain, Guillaume or Lord Geralt, but he would give Gregoire a challenge I think…”

“Not unfair.” The big man grumbled.

“And he would trounce my husband nowadays. He has no particular love for the new directives that have come out of the Duchess’ office. He has been heard, many times by his servants and friends, to have bemoaned the fact that he does not have as much power as he used to under the old systems. But there is also a couple of other factors. One of those factors is that he hates Lord Frederick. I mean he really hates you sir.”

“I am aware.” I said.

“No,” she said. “I don’t think you are. He hates you. Not your family, or anyone or anything else. I mean yes, he does hate everyone in the world to a greater or lesser degree. But he hates you more than the others. He would happily die, I think, if it caused you pain and suffering.”

“Why?” Syanna was frowning.

“When he talked to me,” I jumped in. “He claimed that it was because he thought that the two of us were very alike. That I was everything that he had been taught was weak and yet I had attained a status that he could only dream of.”

“That is part of it.” Lady TOnlaire said. “I am sure that that is part of it, but not all of it I think. I can’t say what it is. Raoul is not a nice person to try and get inside the head of. But it fits. He had us steal your spear in order to humiliate you at the party of Talents. He had us find out about your illness and exactly how your illness could be triggered. We took a misstep there. We thought that reminders of old conflicts would set you off, but we missed the part where the introduction of a puzzle would energise you.”

“Is this a confession?” Syanna wondered.

“No.” Lady Tonlaire said. “He asked me how to torment Lord Frederick, how to trigger his illnesses and injuries. We thought it was a matter of humiliating a Northern Lord who, and this bit I kind of agree with, a Northern Lord who’s family has far too much of an influence on Toussaint culture and politics. That is the sort of courtly game that has been played since Toussaint was founded.”

“And beyond.” I said. “That game is played all over the continent. And I have been the target of it before.”

“So, just tormenting Lord Frederick was why I did it. But now I know more, it is easier to see the possibility that it was done to throw Lord Frederick off the scent. To confront him with Jack and therefore the failure to rescue Lord Frederick’s sister, back into his face. From what I’ve seen and heard, Lord Frederick has done a lot of the thinking on this case. That says something to his character. And I wonder if I was being asked to assess Lord Frederick in order to ensure that the plot went ahead and that he, and therefore Witcher Kerrass, would be unable to assist the investigation.”

It made sense.

“Also, there is another factor about Sir Raoul. I said earlier that he hates everything. That is true, and he wants to watch it all burn to the ground. Toussaint, the Duchess, the order of Knighthoods. You have talked about a Ringleader but I want to suggest that it’s him. He will have told the others involved that there are political reasons. He would have lied to their faces in some cases and otherwise got them on board by fair means or foul. But the truth is, that he doesn’t care. He wants to live life and he wants to burn everything else to the ground.”

“He turned on your husband fast enough yesterday.” Gregoire agreed.

“And he was seen to be helping Alain when Alain was trying to get Kerrass out of the cells.” Guillaume added.

“So why haven’t you got Raoul on the list of suspects?” Lady Tonlaire asked. “It seems an obvious choice to me.”

“And it is.” I said. “It is a recently noticed flaw of mine that I sometimes look for the complicated answer when a simple one would do. I didn’t want to name Sir Raoul because of the way he has been trying to bully me. I was biased against him and I didn’t want my accusations to be born out of that bias.”

“Bias is sometimes instinct speaking to us.” Syanna said. “Not always, but some times. It is important to take these things apart and figure out why you are biased. Is it because you’re being an ass, or is it because there is something there.” She shrugged. “This is all wonderful and everything. But there still isn’t any proof. Nothing for us to act on. We have suspicions, theories and assessments. Nothing for us to act on. Who else?”

That went on for a while. A long while. Far longer than was entirely useful. Names were discussed and set aside. I don’t want to go through it all in case I offend or damage someone’s reputation unfairly, as there were some people in that mixture who were completely innocent. We ran out of steam in middle of the afternoon when Syanna threw her hands up in the air. “We’re nowhere.” She decided and told us that it was time for another break.

‘Right.” She began as we all came back. “We have suspects but we still don’t have any proof that we can reasonably act on.”

“Tell me again.” Gregoire began. “I know I’m new to this whole thing and I will admit that my experience about law keeping is about smacking the shit out of bandits who have made the grave error of trying to rob me or one of the people on my lands. But why can’t we just arrest Alain and use him to tell us who the rest of the conspirators are.”

“It’s complicated.” Damien waved the question off.

“Then make it simple.” Gregoire hissed.

The room went still.

I took a deep breath. “It is indeed complicated as I understand it. Made so by Toussaint law. We cannot use any kind of coercion on Alain as, technically speaking, the state is not allowed to use torture or other interrogation methods to get information out of the noble born.”

“It can be done.” Syanna said, “but the Duchess needs to sign off on it personally and there needs to be a provable cause of concern going in.”

“Isn’t there enough of that though.” Gregoire argued. “Are they, or are they not going to try this again?”

“They are.” I said. “But there is some suggestion that Alain is being cut off. If they haven’t made another scapegoat, then Alain is, very probably, going to be their sacrificial lamb. So it’s even more likely that evidence is being forged to say that he was acting alone and anyone that he could give us would be able to prove that they are innocent. And even if they aren’t, the political…”

Gregoire laughed bitterly. “You should have just said that it was political.” He said to Damien. “Would have saved all the time.”

“Finish the point Freddie.” Syanna told me.

I cleared my throat. “If we just pick up Alain, he will almost certainly accuse people. Those people will then have alibis, excuses and explanations as to why it wasn’t them. Including the fact that we are using a guilty person who is accusing them to save his own skin. Which is true. That the information was attained illegally, which is also true. And then they will go to ground.”

“The other problem,” Guillaume said “is that if we just accuse Alain, then he will demand the right to face his accuser, same as how Sir Morgan challenged Lady Anne. Then he will challenge them and I think we both know, Gregoire, that Alain is the better swordsman. He will win, be proven innocent and then there is nothing we can do about it.”

“The Duchess’ concern here.” Syanna spoke up. “Is that… Yes. We could certainly remove Alain from the board. But what then. The conspirators are still out there. Still out there and able to, well, conspire.”

“Yes, but we would still know who they are. We could watch them.” Gregoire argued.

“There are only so many of us.” Damian argued.

“There will be other crises.” Syanna was a little calmer. And when we are looking at those new problems, these enemies will strike. We need to remove the entire thing from the board. At once, at the same time.”

“How do we do that?” Lady Tonlaire asked. Gregoire was pouring himself a drink to calm down while he shook his head and muttered to himself. “What proof will work. I can see the problem. Not least because Alain’s word against his servants or his guards will be believed, even if all of them stood up and pointed the finger. At what stage is the Empress allowed to stand up and say, “That man, arrest him.” Regardless of any other concerns like honour duels and trials by combat. I can see the reasoning but what sort of thing are we looking for.”

“Ideally an informant.” Syanna said. “Lady Vivienne has done some research into the precedence of the matter. The Duchess is allowed to intervene on civil matters when there is quote “incontrovertible proof of a person’s guilt”.”

“Then what does…”

“What counts as “incontrovertible proof”? Shockingly, the document in question doesn’t say.” Syanna smiled a little.

“It wouldn’t.” Lady Tonlaire said. “Because this is an area of Law that needs as much ambiguity as possible.”

There was some small laughter.

“Upon consultation with a few legal experts, Lady Vivienne is of the opinion that “incontrovertible proof” is whatever the Duchess says it is. The trick is that the Duchess needs to decide in advance and new laws in order to draw up guidelines are being written as we speak. The Duchess does not want to be a tyrant after all so she wants to be sure. And like all my Knights are required to do, we read the treatise by… I forget whom, but the argument that information revealed by torture is often false anyway as the subject tries to feed us what they think we want to hear.”

(Freddie: The book’s name is “Torture and it’s uses,” by Andrew Tourent of Temeria. It argues all these points and that the only worthwhile use of torture is as a capital punishment. But there are far more effective ways of coercing someone to give out information or to do something against their immediate will. It’s an interesting book and I highly recommend it, but only if you’re not particularly squeamish.)

“In this case, in order to make such a declaration, the Duchess wants a willing informant from within the conspiracy, or she wants some kind of material evidence, paperwork, costumes, something along those lines.”

“Tricky.” Lady Tonlaire said, tugging at her bottom lip. “So by an informant.... Would it work if we caught them red-handed and asked them to give the names. If they aren’t tortured, if they voluntarily give up the information. Would that work?”

“It would,”

“And how would we manage that?” One of the Knights I didn’t know asked.

“We could set a trap.” Gregoire said. To me, it was fairly obvious that Gregoire was tired and frustrated by the entire process. To see why, let me say this.

I am not a man of action. I am a scholar. I still stoop occasionally after a long period of crouching over a desk. I still have a tendency to peer at things rather than looking at them. It took me years of hard, mind and body breaking work to become even adequate in combat and even now, there is still a tendency to freeze and over think the actions that I am taking. Kerrass has worked to overcome that and I still have days when I backslide over things.

So imagine it from the other way. Imagine a man of action. A man who has been raised, trained and practised the method of fighting first and asking questions when there are no more people to hit. To think analytically about problems that are to do with politics and motives and belief systems rather than the best method to breach a man’s armour. I am not that person, but it strikes me that it is as hard, if not more so, to do it that way round than it is to do it the way that I had to learn.

“To set a trap, we would need bait.” Damien said, picking at something on his clothes. “So who do we use? We can’t use Lady Caroline again. It would obviously be a trap, they know that it was a trap last time. They almost certainly know that Lady Caroline is currently enjoying her lodgings with the Knights of the Saint, so why would she suddenly be moved? To somewhere less secure?”

“We could use…” Gregoire was hot.

“Who else would they be willing to set aside their existing targets for?” I wondered, doing my best to be calm and conciliatory. “Make no mistake. These men know who they are coming for next and they already have their plan in place. As I say, the only target that they changed their plans for was when Lady Caroline was in a different place. So who would make a better target to disrupt Toussaint? Emma? She would do it if I asked but if I was a sinister cultist, especially an intelligent one, I would not interfere with one of the biggest trading concerns in the North and therefore one of the biggest customer groups for Toussaint wine. If Lord Velles is involved then they know how much they would all stand to lose if Emma died suddenly and at the hands of a Toussaint assassin. And they would know that wherever Emma goes, at least Laurelen goes as well. Jack leaps out, or the group of attackers leaps out and her Sorceress lover whisks them away.”

“Yes,” Gregoire admitted “but what about?”

“The Duchess?” I suggested. Not seriously but enough to throw it out there so that it was said aloud.

“Never going to happen.” Syanna.

“And I don’t think it would work.” I added. “They want to control the throne, not destroy it. If they kill the Duchess then she becomes a martyr and her heir presumptive, Either Lady Caroline or Lady Syanna, would tell them precisely and in detail how to get fucked. Killing Syanna comes with a similar concern. Right now, if the Knight Commander was killed then she would become a martyr to her cause. It would solidify the Knights of Saint Francesca in the hearts and minds of Toussaint and the world. They need to destroy her first. With all due respect to the lady herself…”

“But we should be so lucky that they kill me.” Syanna finished. “So who else do we use as bait? Anne? She would work.”

Gregoire bridles, his face reddening before he saw what was happening and nodded. “I would not allow it.”

“You would.” I said. “If we all told you that it was the only way, then you would. I think. You would not enjoy it and you would insist, rightly, to be standing at her elbow for the entire time so that when the threat appeared, you would be there to defend her.”

“That I would do.” he agreed.

“These men that are doing this are not stupid.” I said. “They will know that you would do that. As would any man when finally being allowed access to the woman that they love. So the only way to kill her is with an arrow which defeats the “Jack” nature of the thing.”

“Why do we think they are still using the Jack gambit?” Lady Tonlaire wondered. “I mean if they’re so clever then they must know that the pretense is ovooohhhh. I see.” She sighed.

“I don’t.” Damien said.

“It’s about the fear of the populace.” Kerrass said. “That is their most powerful weapon here.”

“I rather thought that their most powerful weapon is their anonymity and their ability to set the pace of the events.” Damien muttered.

“That too.” Kerrass agreed. “But jumped up bandits have hidden behind monstrous pretenses before. This is not a new story. I apologise to the Toussaint pride that I have just injured, but it isn’t a new story. We know it’s a group of people, probably men…”

“You really think that a woman could be involved?” Lady TOnlaire protested.

“Definitely.” Kerrass said. “I mean, I doubt it in this instance, but women can be just as cruel as men. And a lot of times, the people they are cruel towards are other women. You are the perfect example of what happens there. What you did to Anne was horrible.”

Lady Tonlaire lowered her gaze.

“But hiding behind a monster is not a new tale. We know that it isn’t a monster because we have seen the proof and listened to the testimony. But the other nobles in the courtroom? Even if they know it. Do the people in the street? How about the people in the countryside who lock their doors against the Fetch that creeps about in the shadows underneath the trees?

“If it is known that it is a group of men that are doing this, then the people will take the law into their own hands and roust them out.”

“Some of them are already doing that.” Damien said.

“So a trap isn’t going to work.” Syanna said. “So what else can we do? Come on folks. As I say, the Duchess wants this dealt with today. If we do nothing then she will yell at me and if she yells at me, then I will yell at you.”

The small laughter died away after a moment.

“And then some other woman will die.” She finished with a significant glare.

As pieces of motivational theatre go, that was unparalleled. There was far too much to unpack there that it was… honestly? A little terrifying.

“What else do we have?” She said into the lengthening silence after that.

There was some shifting of feet.

“Could we play this against them?” Lady Tonlaire asked. “My husband is, I hope, even now standing in the courtroom declaring how wrong he was and how magnanimous and wonderful the Duchess is. Not everyone will listen but some people might. If we could harness a few of the courtiers that would be pro our stance, could we then take the political fight to them, put them under pressure and draw them out?”

“Freddie? You’re the court mind.”

“Am I?”

“You are.” Syanna said flatly.

“Fuck.” I muttered. “Then we’re worse off than I thought. It’s not a bad plan and if we had a week or two then I would say that it was a viable one. However we simply don’t have time. Violence is fast, politics is slow.”

“Unless it’s done violently.” Guillaume commented, trying for a joke. It was not entirely uncomfortable.

“It is worth starting,” I began. “if we haven’t already. But it’s also worth remembering that we’ve done all of this and that all of this has happened in only a couple of days. It was only a few days ago that I was called to service.”

“Freddie’s point is well made.” Syanna said. “This needs acting on now, not later. We are bringing pressure on our enemies but we are not there yet.”

“We could announce a pardon.” Guillaume suggested. “The first person to come forward with something will be pardoned or given a lesser sentence.”

There was some grumbling around the table at that and I felt the need to defend my friend.

“It is not a bad plan.” I suggested.

“But it does bring up the same problem as to what would happen if we just arrested Alain.” Gregoire was beginning to see where all of this was going. “If it’s a common man then they will simply deny it and no guard who was involved enough to act on these things would betray their masters anyway. And no Knight or ringleader figure would fall for it.”

The room fell into silence for a while.

“Come on,” Syanna said. “I do not want us to fall back into being reactive, sitting around with armour on and weapons prepared hoping that the next woman to die will give us enough clues to allow us to work out what is going on. There must be something that we can do.”

“What about Magic?” Guillaume asked. “Magic could show us…”

“Magic is not a viable option of evidence.” The Nilfgaardian man said. “If Magic is used then we are still believing the magic user over the actions and words of someone else.”

“But they could tell us where to look.” Guillaume argued.

“Which is again… If magic can conjure up the location of some incriminatory evidence then it can certainly conjure up some of the incriminatory evidence itself.” The Black armoured Knight snapped.

More silence.

“Was there any sign that someone had fled the house after Madame Duberton was killed?” Gregoire asked Kerrass.

“None.” The Witcher said. “The killers had enough time to clean themselves off in the fountain. They knew what they were doing.”

“Did anyone see them leave?”

Kerrass just shook his head. “And how would you know one person from the other? It’s winter, a cloaked and hooded figure leaving a house in the middle of the night does not attract notice. It’s cold. People wrap up for the warmth.”

“Colonel and Madame Duberton did.”

“And Nilfgaardians dress warmer than other folk. And they were doing their thing at the beginning of the evening. These people would have left last thing at night. For all an onlooker might have thought it would have just been a servant going about their…”

“When Jack was on the prowl?”

“Yes, even when Jack was on the prowl.” Kerrass was growing angry. “Nobles have strange requests for their guards and servants at all hours of the day and night. Further to that, they are more likely to send men out, or servants in general, so that they wouldn’t be attacked.”

Gregoire held his hand up to stop the flow of anger from the Witcher.

Silence fell again after that. We were still nowhere and had nothing else to add. I glanced at Syanna suspiciously. There is a school of thought when it comes to leadership and leading these kinds of conferences. It suggests that when you have a difficult choice to make, you put everyone in the room and start asking for options. This will mean that people will shoot down their own and each other’s opinions until you get to the choice that you know is correct, but will be unpopular. That way, everyone will have seen that the options have been exhausted and that there is no other option except to go for the problematic choice.

She seemed just as frustrated as the rest of us though so she was either genuinely needing options, or she was being a much better actor than I gave her credit for.

Turns out I was looking in the wrong place.

The silence was broken by someone sighing.

“One of my old duties as a commander of the watch….” It honestly took us a moment or two to realise who it was that was talking. Damien stood up just as we realised he was speaking. I still wonder if he knew what he was going to say when Syanna had called us into the room and whether or not what happened next was inevitable.

“One of my old duties as a commander of the watch was to monitor the bare-knuckled boxing. Depending on where you go in Toussaint will depend on the rules and one of my first duties as a guard commander was to order and consolidate matters so that we were all singing from the same song sheet. It took us ages to get the rules codified so that it turned into the relatively gentleman’s art that it is today. As a result of our efforts, the number of accidental deaths due to people taking part in the sport has been reduced to almost zero. Now we are working on reducing the number of maimings but… one step at a time.”

“I fail to see how this is relevant.” Lady Tonlaire grumbled.

“Hush.” Syanna told her. “Let him speak.”

“Thank you Knight Commander.” Damien had poured himself a drink and had picked up a sweet pastry.

“There is normally a point to these stories.” Syanna told us all with a very slight smile. “The point is always well made and often needed. Even if it does take his cute little ass far too long to get there.”

The flirting was a well aimed blow. Damien reddened and bowed before glaring at the Knight commander who winked at him before frowning. “But my patience,” she went on, “like my sister’s patience, is running out Captain, remember that.”

He bowed. That point was well made too. Syanna really was good at this.

“Back in the early days of the fighting, there was a fighter called Markus Calloway. He was a big man, originally a sailor out of Skellige. Huge, bair of a man with long red hair and big bushy beard. He did this intimidation thing where he would glare at people before rolling his eyes up into the back of the head before grinning horribly and stepping into the fight. At the time, the rules were just getting codified. We had things like, no eye gauges, fists and feet only. Grappling was permitted of course and we would remind people that if you killed someone it would be down to the magistrate as to whether or not they would be done for murder or not.

“We had just got to the point where we were forcing them to wear padded gloves in the higher fights, more to protect the higher fighters than anything else. The bare knuckle fights needed to be reserved for the less professional fighters who didn’t know as much. But when you got to the level of someone like Markus, the gloves were essential. As I say, to protect the man throwing the punches from criminal problems as much as anything as when someone like Marcus punches someone, they tend to stay punched.

“When we were trying out the whole thing with the gloves which, alas, didn’t last. Unfortunately a Nobleman’s son thought he could get involved, protested when he got his head beaten in and so we had to outlaw the fights all together. Which drove them back underground and made them all but lawless again. But for a while there, back alley brawling for side bets became a sport that anyone could enjoy.

“But when we were trying out the thing with the gloves, Markus, who was one of the best fighters there, was getting his ass kicked. It was weird to watch. As I say, he was a big man, hugely strong, lightening fast, but over and over again he was being beaten on points, or because another fighter would get in some lucky punches. And the fights would go the same way, over and over again. The fighter would rush in, block Markus’ punch and close the distance. They would unleash a flurry of blows which would send Markus reeling backwards and then it would be all over bar the shouting. It took us ages to figure out what the problem was. Why Markus would win the sparring rounds but wouldn’t win the actual matches.”

As it turns out, Damien is actually a gifted story teller. He claims that it’s due to the long and lonely nights sitting on duty with other men watching the time trickle by. The only way to endure that kind of thing is to learn to entertain each other.

“The problem was this. Obviously there were rules against blows below the belt, not feet and the like. No knees either, but there was a consistent problem with the use of Elbows. As anyone who has been in an actual fight will tell you. A punch to the face is no joke. But if you get hit in the face with an elbow. It’s like being hit in the face with a sword or a hammer. The point being that the person doing the attacking is always nervous of throwing a punch, because they know that the punch is going to hurt the hands as well as the other guy’s face. So they tend to hold back a bit. You don’t have to do that with an elbow.

“The problem from our standpoint. Was that it’s much easier, far easier to get away with throwing an elbow into someone’s face than it is to get away with a kick or a Knee. There is a lot of movement involved in that kind of thing whereas throwing an elbow in the middle of a punch can often be excused as being “accidental.”

“And that was Markus’ problem. Being Skelligan, he had a similar viewpoint on honour as someone like Guillaume or any of the other Knights in the room.”

See where I get the comparison from?

“He was a man of honour,” Damien went on, “and so he refused to throw an elbow. He just wouldn’t do it. So there was a missing element of fear there. An elbow doesn’t have the same range as a fist, so it’s only really useful up close and personal. So that meant that all his opponents had to do was to close with Markus and there was nothing he could do. He would just back off and try for the room to swing which was what his instinct was.

“For every other fighter, his opponents would not close that far, because there was always the fear that they would throw that elbow. So they would stay at range to get their own punches in before stepping out. But with Markus, who could outrange most, that meant that they needed to close with him.”

Damien took a long drink and grimaced at the taste.

“He was a good man, pretty wife at home, two kids, making a bit more money to pay for education and things. So we pleaded with him. We begged him, “just throw an elbow. Just one. Pick a guy that you don’t like. Someone that’s a treasonous fuck that beats women and children. Someone who steals and shirks their work. Hell, we even pointed out a couple of prime contenders, but he just wouldn’t do it. He just refused. He wanted to remain honourable. We complained and complained and he just wouldn’t do it.

“If he did, his opponents would be terrified of him. A man that size? A well thrown elbow would take someone’s head off. But he refused. In the end, I had the privilege of being there when a fist fighter from Temeria who men called Zdenek watched him fight and he took Marcus aside and explained the issue with the Elbow. Markus was having none of it of course.

“Zdenek was just a wiry old man but he had seen more hand to hand combat than any three of the fighters in Toussaint put together at that time. Markus explained that he refused to throw the elbow and why and Zdenek laughed. “Ah my boy.” He said to the much bigger man. “You do not need to hit someone with an elbow every time you enter the arena. You only need to do it once.”

“It took Markus a moment as I recall, before he marched into the arena with a man who was well known to be a bully, only fighting with opponents that would never hope to beat him, much like Sir Crawthorne used to. The fight went the same way as it ever did, the other man tried to close with Markus and get inside his reach. But this time, Marcus’ Elbow came round and fair took the other guy’s face off.”

Damien laughed at the memory.

“He was disqualified from that bout, but he won his first tournament that week. And the next one and the one after that. Before too much longer, he was able to give up working as a sailor and dock worker and fought professionally. He lives in the Nilfgaardian capitol now, training other fighters and charging a fortune for those that want to go that way.”

“And what is the point behind all this?” Lady Tonlaire wondered when it became clear that Damien was done talking.

“We need to throw an Elbow.” Damien told us. “Everyone in this room are honourable people or,” he glared at Lady Tonlaire significantly, “are making amends from those times when they weren’t. You are all thinking like honourable people.

“But our enemies know this, they know that we will act like this so they’ve already taken it into account. They know that we have tied our own hands behind our backs and that there is nothing. Nothing at all that we can do to get around that. In the meantime, they can enjoy themselves and do whatever the fuck they like outside the same selfimposed restrictions that we have placed on ourselves.”

“All of this is fascinating and everything.” My read of the situation was that Guillaume was amused rather than annoyed but his tone of voice did not carry that as well as he thought it would have. “And your point is well made. But what does that really mean in practical measures? What is our elbow?”

“I am under no illusions.” Damien said. “I was made a Knight and put in charge of the City Watch, not in spite of my common blood. But because of it. I don’t think like a noble, I don’t act like a noble and as such, I come up with the unpopular choices that no-one else will consider. Then when I act on that kind of thing, when I arrest the nobleman who has molested the bar maid, when I let the thief go who stole a loaf of bread for his starving family, the Duchess can yell at me in public, tell everyone that it is my common blood that means that I think I can get away with that kind of thing, and later, sometimes months later. I get a reward, some land or a horse or a sword as a gift for doing my duty. Sometimes people like me are necessary to make the world work and the Duchess knows it.

“Do not be fooled.” He told Syanna. “It is the same reason that she put you in charge of the Knights Francesca. You think more like a bandit than you do a noblewoman. And she wants people that think like that in order to catch the fuckers out.”

I nodded. For those people who are interested, what Damien was talking about is called “The Black Knight gambit.” Named for a King of Aedirn who was having problems with an uppity noble of the lower valley of the Pontar. The noble was threatening to abandon his lands to Kaedwen in return for the usual wealth and whatever. There was no legal reason for the King to do anything and if he did just kill this noble then the other Lords who, in Aedirn, have always done their best to take more power from the throne than they should, would be outraged.

Rightly too as that would mean that the King would do it to them.

In the end, what the King did was to take a Knight of his court and dress them up in anonymous black armour. As you will know, all Knights like their pageantry. Bright colours and ornate scrollwork on their armour to make them look as fancy as possible. But this stuff was obviously well made and utterly plain, almost boring in its appearance. The Knight then went, called the noble out, hurled a load of insults at him until the Noble was forced to defend himself before the Knight killed him on the field. The Black Knight rode off, probably just round the corner to where his squires were waiting and changed into his normal armour.

The thing was, everyone knew who the Black Knight was, it was one of the finest Knights in the Kingdom. A man loyal to the crown. His fighting style was unique, his size and build was a lot like Gregoire in that he was a big, heavily muscled man and therefore he was unmistakable. But his squires, who were all noblemen in their own right, swore that the man was in another part of the country at the time, meeting with the King about a pending marriage to the King’s cousin. A lady of considerable grace and beauty who everyone loved. Who also swore that she had been in the company of the Knight in question.

There was even a minor scandal about it as she admitted that the two of them had fallen in love and had even been… indiscreet. To the point where, in a rage, the King had insisted that the pair of them marry in order to avoid scandal.

And after that day, if the King knew that he was having a problem, or if someone was being belligerent, then a black Knight would attend court. Often a different man, and the enemies of the King would suddenly find themselves less keen to talk down to the crown.

The tradition of the Black Knight has taken new meaning in modern times to talk about the courtly play. The unpopular but loyal man who will say the things that need to be said, or do the things that need to be done. Not quite the tradition of the Fool who speaks the truth that the power does not want to hear. But the necessary act that the Lord does not want to perform. Or wants someone else to come up with in a public place.

If you want a proper analysis of the history or the things behind this. I can recommend the work, “The ebony armour of the North.” By Walter de Flambert of Nilfgaard.

“I can see some of you growing impatient.” Damien said with a slight smile and the air of a street corner magician about to reveal his trick. “So here is my point. We need proof, evidence and testimony. The place where this proof, evidence and testimony is in the manor houses and residences of the people responsible. How do we get this evidence? Well, we go and get it.”

There was silence for a long moment.

“Raiding people’s property for such things is illegal.” Guillaume commented.

“That didn’t stop you when you raided my husband’s love nest.” Lady Tonlaire said with a bit of asperity. “And yes, he bought it as a warehouse but he intended to keep a mistress or two there. The fact that he hasn’t been able to attract one in several years is beside the point.”

“We can raid if a person’s life is in danger.” Damien said. “And again, you are all thinking like nobles. I would argue that without evidence, these people are going to keep killing. We have reason to believe that the proof is there and that if we get the proof, we can prevent more deaths. Sounds like people’s lives are in danger to me. And even if there is no proof of what we are looking for, which I doubt by the way. But even if there is none of that kind of proof, are you honestly telling me that the Temerian noble has done nothing illegal. That Alain, who is guilty, or Raoul or any of the others that we have talked about here. Are you honestly telling me that we won’t find sign of anything illegal? We will, I promise you and when we do, even if we don’t catch the “Jack” conspirators, we can deal with them as we find them.”

Syanna was smiling and looking at Damien as though he was a piece of meat. The man was clearly doomed.

“Hold on though.” Guillaume said. “How do we know that there really is something there?”

Lady Tonlaire was nodding. “I see what the guard Captain is saying. We are noble, we know that according to the letter of the law if not necessarily the spirit of the law, that no guardsman is going to burst through our doors and ransack our places of residence. What that means in real terms is that our Manor houses and chateau’s are safe and inviolate unless we are known to be committing a provably treasonous act which needs to be delivered from elsewhere. Or if there is someone’s life in danger. A clause of law that was introduced to prevent an assassin sneaking into the home to slay the Lord in question where the rescuing Knights were kept out of the walls because the estate was supposed to be inviolate.

“So we, as nobles, know to the depths of our souls, that our homes are safe. No-one is going to come and search the place because if they did, they would be breaking the law. I know for a fact, that if someone like Lord Frederick went into my home and searched my private study, they would soon learn everything that I know, and probably a bit more as well.

“For my view, Captain De La Tour’s solution will work.”

She sat back in her chair, her expression suggested that she was troubled about something.

I deliberately stayed out of the discussion. I had a dim feeling that I was watching a debate regarding the future of Toussaint’s soul and I would not have been welcome. Nor should I have been for that matter.

“I like it.” Gregoire admitted after a moment. “I have nothing to hide but I would hide my own stashes well away from my home because I was born a bastard. So I am well aware that my home can be invaded whenever my noble master wished whereas his was perfectly safe. When I inherited the manor from my Father, some of the things I found in

there would have curdled milk at fifty paces.”

“The law is supposed to apply to all.” Damien said. “And yet I have found in the enforcing of the laws in the city, the people that protest the loudest are those people that have something to hide.”

“And one of the purposes of the Knights Francesca is to treat everyone equally.” Guillaume added unhappily. “I am still enough of a product of older Toussaint to admit that I don’t like it. I think that this will set a dangerous precedent although I do not know what that danger is or will be. I do agree that if it is something that we do to the p… commonfolk, then it is something that we should be able to do to the nobility.”

“And.” Damien said, openly grinning in anticipation. “The legal wranglings are not our problem. That is a matter for politics and the politicians. Which means that it is a matter for the Duchess and her courtiers. We have, expressly, been ordered by the Duchess to do what needs to be done. The results of the arguments, the bitterness and the complaints that come after that are not our problem. They are the Duchess’ problem.”

Syanna laughed in delight before examining Damien again. “I love you.” She said. “I really do and one day, I am going to lie you on that table and have my way with you until you beg for mercy.”

Damien paled and spluttered a bit.

“Twice.” Syanna said with relish.

I have no doubt that she meant it. But I also noticed that it also served the purpose of putting Damien back in his place.

“My wife is one of those courtiers.” Guillaume complained. “And when this sort of thing happens, she doesn’t come home until long after I have gone to bed.”

“Is that a problem?” Syanna wondered.

“It is when your wife is as beautiful as mine.”

“I will make it up to you.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen is how the great men and women of the continent make decisions. By leering and making filthy jokes with each other.

“So how do we do this?” Syanna wondered of the much more chastened Captain de La Tour.

“The first question is who we are going to raid.” He said. “The trick is to have a wide enough net to catch at least someone, but narrow enough so that we are not spread too thin. In this case, given the number of people that we are dealing with. I think we need to choose three targets, relatively close to either Beauclair or the Knights Headquarters and we need to do it sooner rather than later.”

“Alright.” Syanna nodded, back to being all business. “Can it be done today?”

Guillaume unrolled a large map and spread it across the table. “That depends on who we go after. I think so though.”

“Then who do we target?”

“I think that one of the targets needs to be Alain.” Guillaume said. “A suitable force can be at his manor house before nightfall if we go by the direct routes. He is the one person that we know is definitely involved in all of this, so we are most likely to find something there.”

“I can give you some names.” Kerrass said. “Of people that will be only too pleased to help out.”

“The other factor there,” I added, “is that it is almost certain that they know that we know about him. So it would almost be weird if we didn’t go after him after all.”

“I would certainly be a little bit insulted if we didn’t go after him.” Gregoire said. “There are many occasions where I have been blamed for his transgressions and he has passed that blame onto me directly.”

There was more nodding.

“So Alain is number one on the list. Who else?”

“I really like Lord Velles for being involved in all of this.” Damien said. “I don’t like merchants in general, apologies Lord Frederick.”

I shrugged. “They are a sneaky bunch.”

Damien grinned at me. I decided that this was the happiest I had ever seen the normally rather dour man. “Velles sounds like he could fit into the scheme and I certainly think that we could find something to incriminate him there, even if it is nothing to do with Jack himself. He has a large Manor house in town, similar to the one we raided yesterday.”

“Foreign national though.” One of the other Knights that I didn’t know. “The Ambassador is going to be cross.”

“My sister will be more cross.” Syanna said. “But I will lead that raid, that way there is only so much that he can do to complain.”

There was more nodding.

“And for a third?” Syanna wondered, “Or do we just stick with the two.”

“A third would be good.” Damien said.

“What about Lord Matamara.” Gregoire suggested. “He was awfully quick to pass the blame onto someone else.”

“All due respect my friend.” Guillaume said. “But I think your bitterness is showing there. You weren’t there. I agree that the man is no saint and that he was lying about who it was that molested his daughter at a party. But it is a big jump from that to saying that he was party to his own daughter’s death. I’ve talked to him, he is genuinely distraught over her death and just as genuinely outraged over the other deaths. For a given value of thinking that a noblewoman’s life is more valuable than an innkeeper’s daughter.”

“Again.” Lady Tonlaire said. “I still think you are ignoring Sir Raoul. Leaving aside all the matters that I discussed earlier, the man is a snake. And I struggle to argue that he would not be involved in this kind of thing. He is often an architect of the clubs that argue against the establishment before withdrawing to the sidelines. He’s your man.”

“He’s quite far out.” Damien said. “We would need to get a shift on to get there before nightfall.”

“Then we should be about it.” Syanna said.

“Hold on.” Guillaume said. “With all of this running around and Knights dashing everywhere, we will need a distraction. How quickly did you know that something was afoot the other day Lady Tonlaire?”

“It was fast.” She admitted.

“Anyone have any ideas as to what we could do to distract everyone?” Syanna asked of the room. “Including the people that we are targeting? It would need to be something spectacular.”

There was an extended moment of silence before the door to the room slammed shut.

Have you ever had a situation where you desperately want your brain to be working faster than it actually is. Where you look around and you’re kind of waiting for the next thought or inspiration to occur to you. You can feel it coming down the pipe as it were and there is nothing you can do except to sit there and wait for it to arrive.

I remember looking around for the servant or messenger that must have arrived in order to set the door to slamming. I waited for the rebuke that would come from one of the nobles that would greet a servant like that. I looked for the person who would be putting a small and discreet piece of paper into either Syanna’s or someone else’s hands.

Then I realised that something was missing. It was a whole heartbeat before I realised that it was not something, but someone was missing. It was three more horrible, excruciating heartbeats before I realised that it was Kerrass that was missing.

“Fuck.” I said, a little louder than I intended to given the shocked look on Lady Tonlaires face.

My chair clattered as it fell backwards and I sprinted for the door and wrenched it open. The corridor outside was empty but for a poor child who was replacing candlesticks with fresh ones.

“Which way did he go?” I demanded of the poor, defenseless candleboy. He looked on the verge of tears as he pointed towards the courtroom and I took off after the Witcher.

The next corridor led to the courtroom directly and I just had time to see Kerrass walking into the larger room with a purpose.

“Fuck.” I swore again and charged after him, dimly aware of the clatter of armour behind me as Guillaume and Gregoire both followed me.

Never has such a short distance seemed so long as I charged down the corridor, a dimly heard shout from Guillaume echoing behind me, causing the servants and other courtiers that were out in the corridor to “make way”.

I all but skidded round the door and into the busy room. I caught sight of Kerrass, just as he was reaching his intended target.

It was an impossible distance. There was no way that I was going to make it, but I tried anyway. Pushing my way through the other people there. As a result, I didn’t see what happened.

I heard it though as Kerrass’ fist collided with Sir Alain’s jaw, sending the armoured man to the floor.

“You sir.” Kerrass snarled. “Are a cad and a wretch. I have waited as long as I can for some relative, some friend or trusted confidante of your now dead wife to step forward to defend her memory. But in the lack of any other men of honour that would protect her in life from your vile behaviour, it falls to me, a Witcher, to defend her in death. Your failures as a husband will be avenged at the end of my sword unless you are a coward and I call you such before these witnesses.”

I did make it through the crowd to see Alain climb to his feet. In a move straight out of a storybook, he wiped the blood from his lip and examined it on his hand. Then he grinned at the Witcher.

“Jealous Witcher? To know that I had her first and that you were nothing more than a sympathy fuck? I had heard that my wife had whored herself with you and I had chosen not to address the matter given that My friend will contact yours to make the arrangements. But in short, this evening in the graveyard. That way your friends will not have far to carry your body.”

Kerrass nodded as Alain turned away.

I nearly hit Kerrass myself as the Witcher smiled in triumph.

“I will go and let someone know that they have their distraction.” Guillaume said quietly.