Once again, I am in the unenviable position of trying to provide commentary as the world ends as we know it.

Yes, this is still Dorthan and if you're reading this then we succeeded in getting more word out.

The enemy was sighted in the cold light of dawn this morning. I have never liked that turn of phrase before because dawn is the re-emergence of the sun into our lives which, by definition, brings light and warmth to the world emerging from the cold darkness.

But in this case, it felt particularly apt.

The enemy was sighted from the walls of Oxenfurt.

Disappointingly, there weren’t that many of them. I went to see them as I felt a certain leftover responsibility to record what it was I saw. I am printing that which might very well be the last writings of the historian and diarist Frederick von Coulthard and there is a context here that might… might be of interest to future…

I don’t know. I feel very pompous now.

But I went to look at them. There were six of them. Huge, armoured figures on the back of huge armoured horses.

After the great storm, the weather cleared, giving the air a false feeling of the oncoming winter and we could see their breath steaming in the air. The terrifying, almost spectral look of the warriors was added to by the early morning mist. It seemed to ripple around their horses' hooves as though they were standing their horses in the waves of the river shallows.

I remember shivering as I saw them.

People claim that all dwarves have a nose for this kind of thing and many have since asked what I thought of the arms and armour of the enemy and I cannot answer that question. Instead, I must defer to the opinion of the guard that I was standing next to. He was leaning on his halberd before spitting over the walls into the river that is still thundering by with all of the rains that have fallen.

I remember he watched the armoured Knights, sniffed, spat and scowled.

“That shit’s gonna be heavy.” He said. I asked for more, but he wouldn’t give it to me. His neighbour agreed though, telling me that “those fuckers could walk through a storm of swords and not even notice it.”

As I say, there were six of them. Huge, blocky helmets with thin slits for the eyes of the men looking out of them. Their breath seemed to steam through the faceplate which suggested small holes for the purpose. Huge pauldrons, gorget and a solid-looking breastplate. They were armoured down to their boots. Each of them had large kite shields and spears in hand. From the heads of those spears fluttered the small pennants of Redania only with a much darker red than the flags that Radovid used to wave. They all wore surcoats of the same symbols as well.

Two of them, on either end of the little formation, had torches that seemed to gutter and flicker as we watched. But other than the flames and the steamed breath of the horses and the knights themselves. They didn’t move. They just stared at the gates of Oxenfurt.

Somehow. It was more terrifying than if they had turned up with an army.

Not least because of the context of what Professor Coulthard was investigating before all of the horror began, as well as because of their appearance in the early morning mist. They reminded me of the riders of the cult of the First Born. Except that where those riders carried wicked blades with sharp hooks and odd curves to the blades that promised nothing but pain, these men had proper weapons and wore proper armour.

They were huge men, which cannot be denied. Huge men. They were a long distance away but I would be prepared to swear that I would hardly come up to their stomach. Huge men, monstrously strong to carry all of that armour about themselves.

So they were not like the riders of the cult. Although I cannot claim to have been there to face the Hounds of Kreve or whatever it was that the locals called them. Nor did I breathe the terrifying smoke that warped the mind. But these knights were all the more terrifying for their utterly human nature.

They dominated the landscape and they dominated the mind with their sheer presence.

Regardless of anything else though, the commander of the garrison has ordered that his guards wear scarves that can be doused in perfumed water that can be lifted to cover the mouth and the nose. Just in case a similar smoke will be used against Oxenfurt soon.

Many of the remaining citizens have adopted the same precautions.

Fortunately for us, it would seem that the storms have possibly saved the city. The rapid flow of water rushing under the bridges means that an attacker can’t come from any other place than the bridges themselves. I’m not a general you understand, but it seems logical to me. Unfortunately, that means that river travel is hard to apply to the ongoing evacuation efforts. People can make the opposite bank but those people hoping to escape by boat have found their efforts stymied. Instead, people are heading for the bridge over to the Western shore, which is almost completely blocked. The sight of the horsemen has galvanised some but terrified others. Some people have gone to their basements and taken their old wartime armour and weapons out of the trunks that they were placed in with the hope that they would never be used again.

But some are fleeing.

Some others are arguing that Oxenfurt should just surrender.

I hate the thought but at the same time, it must be acknowledged that there is a certain logic to it. Oxenfurt is not a city designed to withstand a siege; we are not heavily garrisoned. What we do have is guardsmen who are here, more to keep drunken students in line rather than fight an invasion.

Others point out that the horsemen in question were waving Redanian flags. Therefore, shouldn’t we surrender to them?

I am unsure about that. I wonder if those people that would come in, during the furore of Redanian national pride would come with such a siege and such a surrender. I wonder how long it would be before people are going door to door and pulling out “collaborators” real and imagined.

Humanity has a short memory and they already forget that Redanian forces have a habit of making their own people the enemy. First were the heretics against the Eternal Flame. Then magic users, real and imagined and then non-humans. That was less than… fuck… It was about six years ago that that was happening. And then there would be an argument made that every single one of us has collaborated with Nilfgaard. Or magic users or…

I am afraid again. My family has escaped. My wife and children have gone north to Novigrad which is much better prepared to fight off a siege. But those watchers on the walls have told many stories of the sounds of horses and people heading North towards Novigrad.

But mostly, we still just don’t know what’s going on. My press is printing Professor Coulthard’s journals as fast as we can manage it but I am no longer as convinced as to the benefit of that. I have now had a chance to go back and properly read some of the things that have already been printed and the practice is depressing to the extreme. His journals read like a man looking forward to his wedding day. The progress he had made in his relationship with his mother. He speaks of his betrothed in the tenderest language that brings a tear to this dwarf’s eye.

I don’t know what benefit I have provided other than to get that first warning out. But I will keep going. I have to keep going. I have to believe that what I am doing is of benefit. Because the alternative is that I could have gone with my wife and our children and then I would have been safe, rather than sitting here waiting for the move, or the enemy army to turn up at my door.

And we still don’t know what’s happening. Refugees who had made it to us from the East only stopped to see if they could get some supplies before they were among the first that fled to the West. My staff bring tales of the armoured men chasing down Elves and rounding up non-humans. I don’t know if it’s encouraging that we are not just being massacred on mass or whether I should be more afraid of that.

I am dismayed by the stories that the enemy soldiers are occasionally taking the time to slake their lusts on whatever they can catch.

I don’t know what to do other than what I am doing now. Especially as I believe that once the waters of the rivers do sink to lower levels, or maybe even earlier than that, I think that the commander of the garrison will surrender.

I can’t blame him for that. I think he will try to come to terms if terms are offered. I think that, if they aren’t, he will mount a token defence to make it clear that it might be better and easier to come to terms than to allow a siege to go ahead with all of the death and gloom that would come with. But I think he will surrender after that.

And I cannot blame him.

We are not equipped for a siege. We do not have the troops and our fortifications are sadly… rather dependent on the bridges that can be destroyed. We do not have the stores or the weapons or the… I don’t know. I don’t know enough about sieges. But as I say, the guards that we have are not soldiers and our gates are not strong.

If it did come to a fight, I think we would lose quickly. It might even be a good idea to surrender. After all, we know so little about what’s going on. All we have is Professor Coulthard’s panicked note that could mean anything.

And some will say, possibly correctly, that just because he is betrayed, does not mean that the rest of us are betrayed.

I am afraid though. I would prefer to stand with Freddie given a choice.

One thing I would like to say, to whoever it is that might be reading these words before… I don’t know, you toss the pamphlet onto the flames or wipe your ass with it. Remember my staff. Remember the clerk who has worked, all night to translate the writings of Professor Coulthard without a break. Think of the workmen that have stayed up to work the press. A job that is both skilled and dangerous to the unwary or the tired. But they have worked and continue to work to get the news and the word out. And if we should all be about to meet our ends here and now. Then I would have those men and dwarves, who have worked together to make this place of ours a better one.

I would have them remembered.

There is little to do now but to pray. I pray for my family and that they remain safe in the face of whatever it is that is happening. I pray for myself and that I might survive whatever it is that might be about to come to the walls of the city. And finally, I pray for Professor Coulthard.

Freddie.

This morning, he was supposed to be waking up in the arms of the woman that he loved. Having been there myself there is no morning like it. The slow crawl to wakefulness. The realisation of the pain of the hangover that stabs daggers through your eyes as you wake up to find the sunlight spilling through the curtains or the shutters or… whatever. You gasp in agony before you realise that there is someone else in the bed with you and then you gaze at them.

Slow memory returns to you as you stare at this beautiful creature that you have agreed to share the rest of your life with and then you see them smile. Despite their own hangover. Despite the sweat of your tired bodies and the ache of too much feasting, too much dancing and FAR too much alcohol. You feel that smile cracking your face and although the day awaits you and the rest of your life has yet to come. There is nothing that can drag you from each other’s arms at that moment.

Poor Freddie. I pray for him.

-

Entry 95

Mother has stayed in Oxenfurt for a couple of days, waiting for her dresses and her new wardrobe to be completed. I did ask her what she intended to do with it when all of this was over and she has to return to the abbey and the constant wearing of the cassocks. She grinned at me before slyly telling me to mind my own business. I’ve thought about it for a long time and I have absolutely no idea what she’s thinking.

Maybe she’s saving it for when Sam gets married or… I don’t know.

We have dined together a couple of times and there were also a couple of times when she was spending time with friends of hers that were in town for a variety of reasons. She seemed happy. I don’t know what to do with that.

-

Entry 96

Mother and I breakfasted together this morning. She is heading back to the castle today along with the rest of her escort and we sat in silence as we ate. She has Kerrass’ habit of eating huge breakfasts now which she claims to have inherited from the abbey where a day out healing people and working in the fields, tending the healing herbs and the rest can take a lot of energy. And with the uncertain nature of such work, a good breakfast is important.

But this time, she was pushing the food around her plate and looking uncomfortable. There was a weight to the air that I had rather thought we had gotten rid of. But now it was back and I was feeling… uncomfortable again.

The horse and the rest of her guard were waiting outside the tavern where we were eating and I had every intention of helping her into her saddle when she turned on me with an expression that…

It was as though she was caught between anger and fear.

“That’s enough.” She snapped.

I must have blinked at her in the morning light.

“What?”

“When are you going to…? She stopped. Swallowing the words that she was about to say.

I looked at the guards who must have caught my meaning as they were suddenly very interested in the minor doings of the rest of the road.

“When am I going to… what?” I demanded. Something in her tone and the delivery of the question had caught my temper and I was suddenly angry as well.

“When are you going to get angry with me?” She wailed. I wouldn’t have been too far gone if I described it as a whine.

I stared at her for a long moment, too long really. Long enough to leave us both feeling awkward as she fidgeted with her dress.

I turned away and went to walk back indoors.

“Freddie?” She called.

“Come on then,” I told her and she followed.

Sometimes, being me has its benefits and I was able to get the tavernkeeper to let us into a private room so that we could have it out.

I walked into the room. It was the kind of room that you can hire for private parties and things. The tables and chairs were stacked against one of the walls so that they could clean everything, or at least, that’s what I assumed was going on. I took a chair down and pushed it towards my mother and then I took one for myself.

“Right, what?” I asked her.

“You haven’t yelled at me yet.” She told me.

I was genuinely confused and said so.

“After everything I did, and everything that I have not done. You haven’t yelled at me. I could have talked about what was going on in the North. I could have told the church about it. I could have… After I killed Edmund and you all sat in judgement over me. You said that my greatest sin was not in what I had done but in the way that I had done it. And one of the things that I hadn’t done was tell people about what was going on. I had kept it to myself when I could have warned people about what was going on. I could have saved those people. I could have stopped Edmund. And in keeping all of that to myself, you and Sam and your friends went into that horror and…”

She kind of petered out of words to say.

“I expected you to yell at me when we went for dinner.” She told me. “That’s why I chickened out that first night. And then you didn’t and I was so grateful. But now I feel as though the axe is hanging over my head and I don’t know what to do and…”

“Mother stop,” I told her.

She did.

“Would it help?” I asked her. Probably a little harsher and angrier than I would have liked.

The question caught her off guard.

“Would what…”

“Would it help if I yelled at you?”

“You deserve your anger and I deserve…”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want me to yell at you?”

“I deserve it and…”

I frowned and realised that I was in real danger of becoming extremely angry.

“Is this some kind of penance that you have been assigned?” I wondered. “Something where you have been told to stand in front of your children and make amends to them for the things that you have done? Or not done as you correctly state the case to be. Is this that point in your… whatever the fuck…”

“Language.” She said automatically.

“Fuck… That.” I told her.

She looked stunned as the colour finally drained out of her face.

“I did consider it,” I told her. “I did consider it when I found out that you were coming back. I considered telling Emma that I didn’t want anything to do with you and that Emma could lock you in some outhouse for all that I care. I also considered having you tied to a chair so that we could all take turns in screaming at you until we were hoarse.

“But what would that solve Mother? Will that take away from the awful things that I saw in the North? Will that bring the people back from the dead? Will that un-traumatise all of the villagers that were subjugated under your family and the likes of Cavil? Will it mend Kerrass’ shattered arms where he still feels the cold and can predict the weather more accurately than your average Sorcerer or sailor?

“It will do none of those things, Mother and we both know it.”

I stood up and walked away a moment.

“I didn’t need this,” I muttered, mostly to myself. “Today was going to be such a nice day. I was going to go and eat on the green before taking a book to read and walk the streets while I think about the next lecture. I’ve got a lot to think about after all. But now I’m having a row with my mother and as it turns out, I am yelling at her even when I promised myself that I wasn’t going to.”

I turned back to her.

“The only reason that I would be standing there to yell at you would be to make me feel better. But it won’t make me feel better at all mother. I might have done it if you were unaware of everything that had happened. I might have done it if you refused to take responsibility for your part in those awful things. Then I might have yelled. But in the meantime, what is done is done. You are sorry. I can tell. I don’t need more than that. You are forgiven. But what happened there is something that I will never forget, it will haunt me for the rest of my life. And your involvement is something else that I can never forget. Do you understand the difference?”

I could see that she did. I turned away again and took a deep breath before turning back.

“I love you mother. I do. And I have missed you. Whatever you found in the Abbey of Ellander, suits you, to the point where I am almost beginning to feel as though it will be a shame when you have to go back. But I will not be a prop in your redemption. I will not be a scourge that you use to flagellate yourself and exorcise your guilt. I won’t do it, Mother.”

She flushed and was sitting stock still.

“What is done is done,” I said, not looking at her anymore. “Neither of us can take it back. Yes, you could have done things and yes, there are times when my fury with you for not doing those things sends me screaming into my blankets. But if I stand here and scream at you about them… It will do no good. It will make you feel worse and it will unearth feelings that I have been trying to move past.

“I am getting married soon and I do not want that shadow to be hanging over me. You were just as much of a victim of that place as I was. As any of them were. You could not have done anything other than that which you did. We know this because it simply didn’t occur to you. If you have been there, mid-abuse and actively decided not to tell anyone what was happening. Then you would have been complicit and yes, I would have hated you.

“I also remember that Father made you promise not to tell us. Another little misguided gesture. One of his many in all honesty. But still… I will not yell at you Mother. It will only cause us more pain.”

She nodded then before her lip wobbled and the tears finally sprang from her eyes to run down her cheeks.

“Flame, I was such a terrible mother to you all.” She sobbed into her hands.

“I don’t know who told you that,” I told her. “But whoever it was you should go back to them and punch them in the tit, or the balls depending on the gender of the person that did the telling.”

It was a strange thing to have to parent my mother. I went towards her and knelt before her, taking her hands in mine and making her look at me.

“Don’t get me wrong, you weren’t great,” I told her, putting the edge of a smile on my face to soften the phrase. It was also strange to be using old courtier tricks on my mother.

“You weren’t great, but look at us. Mark has taken all of the shit that life has thrown at him. He’s dying an unpleasant, nay, horrific death because he can feel his brain betraying him. But at the same time, he has turned that death into a driving force. He has refound his faith and is making for real change in a church that was in sore need of that change. You should be proud of that.

“Emma is going to be the chancellor of the Imperial Treasury. A post that she already advises to. She has taken her Father’s and Grandfather’s merchant enterprise and turned it into an Empire.

“Sam is the Count Kalayn and is lifting that place out of the mire that your family made it into and bringing it into the modern world. Those people are free of fear and pain and the reason that they are free is that Sam went there and made it so.

“Francesca was a favourite of the Empress. Close enough for the Empress to think of her as a little sister and dear enough that that blessing has been passed on to the rest of us.

“And me? I am also going to be a Count. I am marrying far above my station. She is more intelligent, more charming, more knowledgable than I am and far more beautiful than I deserve. And the joy of joys, she loves me. I am friends with people of legend, even when they terrify me.”

She tittered and I saw that my ploy was working.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. When Lady Eilhart and Lady Yennefer get into an argument, which they will, then don’t get caught between them. But they call me a friend. I have argued rhetoric with the bard, drank wine with the Duchess of Toussaint and attended a Skelligan betrothal. And if the quality of the people can be measured in the quality of our enemies, then we have the very best.”

She laughed at that again and I squeezed her hands for emphasis.

“You were not the greatest mother,” I told her. “But you could have done a much worse job.”

“Edmund.” She argued with a sly smile.

“Yeah…” I agreed. “That guy was an ass.”

She laughed.

“But you should have seen my first essay drafts,” I told her. “And just how clumsy I was when Kerrass first gave me my spear.”

She nodded and went to stand but I held onto her hands.

“I mean it though,” I told her. “I will not be a prop to help you atone or find redemption or to flagellate you. You will have to find someone else to do that for you.”

She nodded.

I walked her to her horse and watched her leave before walking back to the University and staring into my office fireplace for a long time before sitting down to write this entry before I forgot it.

Today was going to be such a beautiful day.

-

Entry 97

It has been a busy few days. Made even busier by the fact that I can feel my disappointment with my Mother clawing at my throat. Two conversations. Two exchanges that couldn’t have been more different. But as a result, they have completely thrown me from my train of thought so that I have no idea what I am doing.

It’s not that I am not busy. Life is very busy and at the same time as feeling as though I have achieved absolutely nothing, I also feel as though I am run off my feet.

Appointments with various providers of services for the wedding. Despite the special interest lectures, there are all the other regular lectures that still need to be worked on. There are still all the seminars and student work to be fed back on. There are still letters to be written and city elders that need to be met and talked to. Things that need to be discussed and so on.

I feel exhausted, and overwhelmed and have an urge to find somewhere dark to have a good long cry.

-

Entry 98

A milestone has been passed when I was not looking and now I feel guilty about missing it. It is now less than a month until my wedding day. I briefly lifted my head from the piles of paperwork, that I seem to accumulate everywhere I go, to realise that that was the case. The time that I have until I will be Ariadne’s and she will be mine, is now no longer measured in months, but in weeks. It will no longer be one month and so many weeks. It will be…

Three weeks and several days.

How did that happen?

The wedding itself exists like some great beast at the end of a tunnel. It is large and strong. Powerful like some kind of boulder that is just teetering there before it crushes me. Held in place by thin ropes that could break and fall at any given time.

It is not that I don’t want to marry Ariadne, I do. I really do. And I am looking forward to elements of that day. But there is so much of it that is beyond my control, so much of it that is outside of my own… grasp. I am increasingly convinced that I would be much happier if Ariadne and I could just sneak off to a chapel before getting together with our friends afterwards for a few drinks, a dance and a meal.

I am definitely looking forward to the honeymoon.

But the fact that I am who I am, my friends are who they are and the fact that the Empress herself has a personal interest in the entire thing means that it’s almost… It’s almost as if the event itself is incidental to what is going to happen. As though Ariadne and I barely need to be involved.

I’m not nervous about the actual getting married part. I love that woman and I know that she loves me. I will be able to say my wedding vows in a proud and happy voice without hesitation. But all of the shite that comes with it?

My mood is not helped by the weather.

It is hot. Really hot and there is a weight to the air that robs me of my breath and weighs down on my chest like something physical. I have seen this before but only in the South and this kind of heavy heat can only lead to storms. Lots of storms. Storms that are terrifying to behold.

Storms like the wrath of Kreve himself. Storms powerful enough that it is honestly surprising to me that the Southern religions are built around a sun god rather than a god of storms.

Less than a month until I marry the woman that I love.

Fuck me.

-

Entry 99

I am running out of ideas for places to go and investigate. I have interrogated Mother. I have asked the various watchmen that have distinct memories of the night that we killed the heretics and although many of them can answer to the fact that the then Lord Kalayn was there and that someone answering to the description of Phineas had been there at one point. The identity of the man with the sword remains a mystery.

The problem there is that it could literally have been anyone. Any number of minor nobility and their guards were there that night. And any number of the minor nobility that had something to lose had been there with their own bodyguards. And any number of them might have been our man.

It also has to be said that if I was investigating it at the time. Then I would be asking “Who stood to gain the most from being there?” Their proximity to the then Lord Kalayn before he went on the fire suggests that he is a suspect in his murder of him. The people that would have benefited the most from that death were the cult in the North. Lord Cavil and his crew would have been concerned that the then Lord Kalayn would have been willing to spill the truth about the cult to save his son.

And that is, by far, the most likely conclusion. And if it wasn’t Lord Cavil that did the deed, or ordered it, then it was someone in the cult that was working and fighting for position to get a bigger piece of the pie for themselves?

But I can’t shake the feeling that I am missing something.

In a couple of days, I am going to Novigrad to have my wedding suit tailored to myself. I have received permission to talk to the Head of Imperial intelligence who serves in Novigrad to discuss the arrest of Phineas as well as permission to inspect the building that he had been hiding in.

I am nervous about this journey for two reasons. The first reason is that, even after everything. I still might not find anything and after that, I have no idea where to look. But also because Emma, Dr Shani, Laurelen, Mother and Ariadne are coming with me which means that Carys is also coming with me. They are all going to get their fittings done for their wedding frocks.

I don’t know what the difference is between a frock and a dress but I understand that there is one and that I will know it when I see it.

They are also having dresses made for Ariadne’s Hen weekend which is taking place a couple of days before the wedding itself.

For that particular part of the festivities, I am particularly terrified. It seems that the vast majority of the Lodge of Sorceresses will be staying at the castle excluding only the Elven contingent for reasons of their own. Apparently, a matter of principle.

I have elected to stay in Oxenfurt itself for that weekend.

The passage of the month barrier as I have taken to calling it, also means that other festivities are beginning to fill my time. My own “stag” weekend is happening, the weekend before Ariadne’s party. And I am nervous about this. It needed the extra time so that Helfdan, Svein and the others could make it to the castle and back in time to escort Queen Cerys to Novigrad. But beyond that, I have no idea who is coming and I have no idea what is involved. The only nearby person who is definitely coming is Rickard and he just cackles whenever I ask him about it.

Sam is on his way South to be there in time for it. I have written to him and he is definitely going to be there. It is always hard to tell from the written word, but he seems to be in fine spirits. He has promised to bring the guard with him that had been there on the night of the heretic burning and that I will be able to ask whatever I liked.

-

Entry 100

My hundredth entry. I wish that I had something momentous to announce with the hundredth entry but I don’t. My diary which was, at first, meant to be a dumping ground for my thoughts to help me recover from my post-journey ennui has become a record of my investigation into a years-old event and now it is becoming a true diary. I don’t know how I feel about this.

The historian’s trade is made up of people that keep diaries. We depend on them because that means that we can go back and read what people were doing at the time, what they were thinking and how people were behaving. I sometimes feel concerned that someone will be looking back at this work that I have been doing and will be reading it with a slightly condescending viewpoint.

“How could he not have seen what was right in front of him?”

“Why did he not run away with the woman that he loves?”

“Why was he not happy with what he was born with?”

All questions that I have asked myself as well as had other people ask me at various stages throughout the years. The honest truth is that I have no easy answers. This was what had happened and this is how I chose to go about it.

I have to go back to the castle tomorrow to prepare for the trip to Novigrad.

-

Entry 101

And who should I find there but Kerrass, grinning from ear to ear like a fucking lunatic? Just as I walked up to him to ask him what the hell he was doing here I heard a voice coming from behind me. A voice that I hadn’t heard in person for a couple of years but still a voice that I hear in my dreams sometimes.

“Well, there you are. About fucking time you filthy little heretic.”

I could not keep the grin from my face as I turned around and bellowed back.

“I will have you know that I am a fully baptised member of the congregation of flame,” I told him. “And I was confirmed at the feet of the Archbishop himself as a witness before the fire. So who are you calling heretic?”

Father Jerome grinned through his beard.

I judge that he has lost weight and certainly the beard is new. It is beg, bushy and he likes to stroke it in the way that people like to stroke their cats.

“But you are marrying a heathen.” He declared loudly and for all to hear. “A heathen that sucks the blood from the living and is a blight on our good, flame-fearing country folk.”

“She only bites when I ask her to,” I told him. “And has never sucked the blood out of anything.”

He looked genuinely curious at that.

“She prefers to drink from a glass,” I told him.

He gave an “ah” motion of understanding.

“And apart from anything else.” I declared. “She too has seen the flame and has been baptised by those closer to the flame than you, you fat old charlatan.”

He laughed at that.

“Besides. You complain to me about sleeping with the heathen. Don’t you lie with the heretic? Or is it untrue that you chose to spend your nights in the bed of the village witch? You can’t tell me that all you are doing over those long nights is ‘caring for the community’.”

He laughed again and enveloped me in a bear hug.

“Flame of my soul but it’s good to see you,” I told him. And I meant it. Despite the banter, I was astonished at how close I was to tears. “Father Jerome. As I live and breathe.”

“Little Freddie Coulthard.” He told me. “All grown up. I see the boy I knew, in the man before me. You have aged young man.”

“And you have lost weight.” I accused.

“Not unfair.” He admitted. “She might be a filthy heretic, but she sees to it that I eat proper food and bathe regularly.”

“For which I can but give great thanks,” I told him. “Is she here?”

“She’s off with that little redheaded doctor that you have. Talking shop. I tell you what you young blasphemer. If I were a few years younger, I would take that flame-haired girl for a ride or two.”

“She would eat you alive,” I told him.

He considered this. “That doesn’t sound like too harsh a prospect.” He replied. Now come and show me this chapel of yours. I must admit that I have been longing to see it.”

It was so good to see him.

-

Entry 102

We spent some time, Kerrass and I, discussing what I had found and what I wanted to know. He agreed with me on almost every point. The most obvious point that we agreed with was that my search was almost certainly pointless in that there was almost nothing to find. We talked about what I had found, what with the tales of this mysterious swordsman and the like and he agreed to come with us to Novigrad to help me with that part of the investigation.

He muttered something cryptic about the fact that what he needed wasn’t quite ready yet anyway. When I asked what that was, he merely grinned and would say nothing.

Father Jerome refused to meet with Cardinal Mark in public. Something for which I was disappointed and I was not alone in that regard. There were two meetings of the minds that I had longed to see and longed to watch. Though, it was quite disappointing as they had agreed with each other on nearly every point. Both of them admitted that if they had met back when I had first met Father Jerome, then the story might have gone significantly differently. Before Mark’s illness had become apparent and the like.

Mark agreed.

In the meantime, I have spent some time talking with Jerome. He heartily approved of the chapel itself and was relishing the prospect of “working in it”. His words. In the meantime, he refused the invitation to come to Novigrad with us because there were “too many ghosts walking the streets” and promised to stay at the castle for the duration.

But, like Mother, he would be moving on after the wedding was over. He complained that his flock would need tending in the meantime.

I also met his, all but wife. I am not sure what I had expected. She was a tall, forbidding-looking woman with her greying hair tightly controlled. She had a weaponised glare that she used deliberately and without quarter to nail people to the floor. She was a worshipper of Veyopatis and she and Jerome would have literal screaming arguments about this and that. How the two of them managed to maintain an affair I have no idea, but they did and it was not an unpleasant thing to behold.

She would claim that they had been drawn to each other in the wilds, out of mutual caring for the people that travelled through that area of the world. He just said that the woman was beautiful and that he couldn’t help himself when he met her. I believe both of them.

She spent her time with Dr Shani, looking at this and that and gratefully received several of Dr Shani’s books which were read avidly. I did wonder at her ability to read and she told me off for it.

I like the pair of them enormously.

-

Entry 103

I found Cardinal Mark, confessing to Brother Jerome. Mark was weeping as he spoke. I did not have to be asked to move on. I fled as fast as I could.

-

Entry 104

Our little chapel has become increasingly busy. That place that I had once used as a place of peace and quiet. A place of refuge is getting busier by the day. Jerome all but lives there having loudly declared that this is what a castle chapel should be. He sits there with his feet propped up on the pew in front of him while he reads this and that. He appears to be quite busy although I couldn’t tell you what he is busy with.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Mother is also there quite a lot. She and Jerome share a common sense of humour which is a little terrifying. Mother’s humour always used to be quite arch and dry whereas, in the time since all of that period, it is now rather earthy.

Nothing quite like seeing and hearing your mother cracking dirty jokes. She is regularly praying at the prayer rail as she seems to insist on keeping up with all of the services that she used to follow as a nun. Rather her than me as she is often found to be praying at several points during the night, including at dawn.

But in turn, that meant that finding the opportunity for a bit of quiet prayer and contemplation for myself is increasingly difficult. I am beginning to feel the need to spread out my thoughts. To hit the road and to let my mind just… unroll into the quiet rhythm of movement and watch the scenery go by.

-

Entry 105

I finally got Father Jerome to myself and talked about how I was feeling.

And when I say that I got him by himself. I mean that he was waiting for me and dragged me out of the castle to a nice, sun-patched part of the wall where he had already stashed a couple of bottles of wine and a cake.

“So,” he said after a long moment. “How are you?”

He asked that when I was lifting the bottle to my lips and I nearly choked.

“I’m about as well as I could expect,” I told him.

“Bullshit.” He told me. “You’re walking around with an almost permanent frown on your face. What’s going on?”

“I… I don’t know.” I told him. “I should be happy. I’m marrying the woman of my dreams and yet. I feel as though… I feel as though the world is pressing down on me. I feel like there is some great thing coming. I feel as though I am a condemned man and that the axe is hanging over my neck. As though I am tied to the block and the headsman and the confessing priest are busy arguing about proper beheading technique.”

He took a long drink from his own bottle.

“You know that if any other married man told me that, I would wonder if he wanted to go through with it.” He told me.

“I know,” I told him. “And I’ve considered that. But the thought of not marrying Ariadne makes me sick to my very stomach. I get headaches and feel tears at the back of my eyes. I want to marry Ariadne. In my heart of hearts, I’m even looking forward to the wedding day. I mean, all my friends, past and present. People from all over the continent are coming and they are going to be in my house and they are going to be eating my food and drinking my wine. Will they all hate each other?

“Will my old tutor get away with discussing rhetoric with the Jarl of the Black Boar? Will Shani be able to find common ground with the Queen of Skellige, a woman that I myself barely know. Will what remains of the bastards be able to enjoy the company of what remains of the crew of the Wave-Serpent or will they be eyeing each other up like two Novigrad gangs, waiting for the first one to pick a fight?

“I just don’t know.”

I took another drink and grinned at the thought.

“I can’t wait to find out though. I’ve wanted to put Rickard and Helfdan in a room together since I properly knew them both. Chireadean and Guillaume are another pair that I could see getting on famously. I want to watch someone trying to flirt with Maleficent on a dare and then becoming terrified when they succeed.”

I laughed.

“And most of all, I want to see Emma, Ciri and Kerrass, and you for that matter, moving through the crowds of the powerful people and the common folk as well. I want to see that. I want to enjoy that. And most of all, I want the woman. I want to call her mine and I want her to call me the same. I want to stand before the world and finally, finally declare that this woman is the woman for me. That I love her and that no one else can have her. I want to dismiss all of the doubt that there has ever been. I finally want to tell all those people that told me that I should just plough the wench to fuck off and that she was worth waiting for. I can’t wait for all of that.”

“But you’re afraid.”

“I am. And I don’t know what I am afraid of.”

He grunted as he considered that.

“First of all,” he said as he scratched his armpit. “I need to tell you something that you’re probably already aware of so I apologise for being condescending.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Cheeky little heretic. What was I saying?”

“You were being condescending.”

“Ah yes.” He fixed me with a look. “Change is scary. And you are going through a lot of it at the moment.”

“I know that getting married is…”

He waved his hands. I don’t think you do. You love the woman. It is clear within moments of seeing you. I look forward to meeting her properly when she isn’t trying to impress me or convince me that she isn’t going to eat me. Even though I know that she isn’t. But still. You love the woman.

“But you’ve been building up to marrying her for a long time. And she is not just any woman. Any of those morons that say you should just fuck her and get it out of your system have not met her. She is scary. That is something that you have lost sight of. You have been trying to convince yourself that you are not afraid of her so that you and she could both believe it. But you are and your body knows that.”

He chuckled. “I am jealous of your reaction when your body and mind finally realise that there is nothing there to be afraid of.

“But also, you are going to be married. That is scary for anyone. You will no longer just be responsible for yourself but you will know that your actions reflect on another and that her actions will reflect on you. That is scary. You will be going from a mostly free, wandering lifestyle to that of a married man. Settling down in a nice place with the aforementioned woman and now you will be a Lord of the land. As well as being a university professor, obscenely rich man, husband to a powerful woman and Imperial advisor.”

“Wait…” I protested at that last.

“Oh please.” He told me. “You yourself wrote about how you are one of the group advising on the formation of the new Witcher Schools.”

I had nothing to say to that. It seemed a long distance from sitting on a committee to being called an Imperial Advisor but that was not important.

“Your family dynamic is adjusting and you are all watching each other to see who falls.first.” He went on. “I am looking forward to meeting this other brother as well and seeing how he fits in. All of that, all of that would be enough to be scared of if you were a normal person. But…” He pointed a finger at me. “You are not a normal person.”

I felt as though the pointed finger, from a hand which held a chunk of cake, had skewered me to the point that I was sitting.

“You have done more and been through more horror than most people have survived. Incidentally, I read about your little run-in with the Knights of the Flaming sword and I read about how you gave me the credit for keeping you sane. I should say about that, that I was prouder of you then than I would have been of my son.”

I had to look away.

“You have been on the road for two, nearly three years and in most of that time, you have seen some horrible things. You have felt horror, sadness and grief along with a pain that few could endure. Now you will learn about love, pleasure and happiness. Even though that is a good thing, the change is scary.

“When you are used to the darkness, the light can be terrifying.”

I nodded. It felt like a big thought. The kind of thing that needed to be taken away and unpacked. He saw it as well and rose to his feet.

“It is alright to be scared.” He told me with his hand on my shoulder. “Try and enjoy the ride. Because there will come a time when the fear will leave and you will realise that you no longer need to be afraid. And that moment, that one is good.”

He left, leaving me to think deep thoughts.

-

Entry 106

We must have made an odd little group to look at as we rode onwards Novigrad. Emma, Laurelen, Mother, Shani, Kerrass, Ariadne and myself. Plus guards and a couple of servants who were struggling not to laugh at our various antics.

For a start, Mother and Emma were arguing about how to properly ride a horse which was almost opposite from the arguments that they had had and that I remembered from years before. When I was younger, our mother had wanted to yell at Emma about how a proper lady was supposed to hold herself in the saddle while she was travelling on horseback. Instructions that Emma took great delight in ignoring at every available juncture to sit astride her horses, dress divided when possible and skirts hitched around her hips or torn down the middle when not.

Emma was an early adopter of riding trousers in my family.

But now the boot was on the other foot. Since becoming, essentially, the ruling noble of Coulthard lands, Emma had become very aware that she needed to comport herself properly. Not only was she a woman and unmarried but she was living romantically with another woman and as such, was untraditional enough. So when she was travelling outside our lands or even when she rode particularly far away from the castle, she would ride side saddle.

In the meantime, Mother had learnt the joys of riding astride her horse while working down at the abbey of Ellander and as such, she was now resenting the fact that Emma was making her ride side-saddle. The two of them were bickering about it for most of the journey, often using the same arguments that they had used many years before except with the entire situation reversed.

Laurelen found this endlessly amusing because she did not particularly care which way she rode. She hated them all.

“One of the benefits of being a Sorceress is that I do not have to suffer with this kind of thing.” She would declare archly. “One must simply know where one is heading and then cast a relatively simple spell and all of this faffing around is set aside in favour of just being where you want to be.”

“I seem to remember a lot of hard walking and riding in your immediate past.” Emma retorted.

“Yes,” Laurelen admitted. “But we were also hiding and nothing gives you away quite as efficiently as appearing out of thin air in front of several armed guards.”

The said guards and servants gave a little cheer.

“But in the meantime,” Laurelen continued, “all this riding around is largely just a waste of time when we would be much better employed if we had travelled by boat, or if we had teleported. So many things that we could be better employed doing with our time. Would you not agree Ariadne?”

Ariadne considered this for a moment.

“I must confess that I quite enjoy the practice of overland travel.” She said, choosing her words carefully. “Moving at the slower pace requires you to force your mind to that same slow pace. We cannot go faster than we are at the moment and so, the mind must slow and take its time to consider the various things that it could, and should, be thinking about.

“I also enjoy the art of the process. Being the woman that I am, horses need to be trained to my presence and journeys must be planned to take advantage of waystations and inns as it would be unseemly for one such as I to sleep in a field, under a tree or beneath a hedge as I know Freddie sometimes longs for.”

“Hey, don’t bring me into this.” I protested but was largely ignored.

“It also serves to remind one of the sheer distance of land that we are travelling over,” Ariadne added. “Which is a useful perspective that not enough people take advantage of.”

“On that, we can agree.” Mother said, having decided that she hadn’t spoken enough in recent times. “I do think that people forget just how vast the continent is really. It is easy for people to forget how long it takes to travel even relatively short distances. But I notice that you didn’t answer the question, honourable daughter-in-law-to-be.”

“You noticed that did you?” Ariadne wondered as her face fell a little. “That’s a shame.”

“So which is it?” If you must travel overland, which do you prefer, sitting astride or sitting side-saddle.”

“I much prefer travelling by carriage.” Ariadne declared. Which caused some genuine laughter from many.

“That’s cheating.” Emma protested. “Who do you agree with, mother or myself?”

“Careful,” Shani said, leaning over to Ariadne and pointing at Emma. “That’s a trap.”

Ariadne bowed her gratitude to Shani.

“I must confess,” Ariadne began. “That I am reluctant to discuss this question. When the two sides of the conflict are my future Mother-in-law and my future Sister-in-law. There are no sides of this debate that are going to work out for me.”

Both Mother and Emma claimed this as a victory for their side.

“Seriously though.” Laurelen tried. “Which do you prefer?”

Ariadne winked at her.

Kerrass and I mostly spent our time cowering at the back.

We were two nights on the road. Both times we stayed at inns which meant that we slept in proper beds and ate proper meals that were cooked for us by other people. I felt kind of lazy and as though I was cheating. Don’t get me wrong, it takes more than a day to travel between the family castle and Novigrad itself. Kerrass and I once spent a good week doing it although we were deliberately wasting time to stay out of the city itself.

But I kept catching Kerrass watching me while we rode and I knew what he was thinking. I was thinking the same thing as he was.

This was taking an awfully long time.

I did manage to get Kerrass off to myself at one point and asked him the question that had been preying on my mind. Ever since my discussion with Father Jerome.

“Am I doing this deliberately?” I wondered. “You know, looking for enemies where there are none. Trying to find a conspiracy because I am uncomfortable with the idea that all of my enemies are dead?”

He took a long drink.

“Do you want the Witcher’s answer? Or the answer of a friend?”

“Both.”

“Then I shall start with the Witcher’s answer. There are always loose ends. You told me what Captain Wyber said and he’s right. There are always loose ends. There are always things that get away. Bad guys that live to fight another day. The monsters might have had young that you didn’t manage to catch, you don’t get the entire nest of… You don’t always get everything.

“There are always loose ends Freddie. Always. And those loose ends will generally come back and bite you on the ass. So what you’re really asking me is if you are being paranoid.”

“Sounds right.”

“The answer is, yes. You are being paranoid. But as the man once said. It’s not paranoia if the bastards are really out to get you. Paranoia is useful. The only Witchers that are still alive are the paranoid ones. And that is a truth that you can believe in. The problem is when that Paranoia freezes you and prevents you from acting. That’s when it’s dangerous. The question you must ask yourself, for which I do not have an answer, is whether you are being too paranoid.”

“But the more worrying question is… Do I like it? Am I dependent on it? Is this what I want my life to be?”

“Father Jerome is a good man and a wise man,” Kerrass told me. “And he is right. Terror, darkness, fear, loneliness. They can become familiar, old friends if you are not careful and yes. Sometimes it is scarier to ask a friend for help than it is to stay down there in the cold and the dark.”

Something in the way he said it made me think.

“Are you telling me that? Or yourself?”

He laughed. “Why both, of course.”

I laughed at him and then he stopped and stared into space.

“I’m going to talk to her Freddie.” He said. “I’m terrified and I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I know that she’s coming north with the Empress for your wedding and I’m going to talk to her.”

He didn’t need to tell me who she was.

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea.” He admitted.

“You know that weddings are heightened times?” I told him.

He glared at me. “Freddie, I’ve been to many weddings and I’ve been married myself more than once. I know.”

“Awfully romantic times as well.”

“Fuck off Freddie.”

“And the lady does love romance.”

“I was being nice to you.” He got up and finished his drink before rather pointedly asking my mother to dance.

-

Entry 107

I have known a number of simple pleasures in my life. I have held the hand of multiple beautiful women including the one that I am going to marry. I have watched the sun rise and the sun set. I have enjoyed good food and listened to good music. I have sat, enraptured to the storytelling prowess of a professional skald and I have sung the rower's song on the deck of a Skelligan longship.

There is the joy of coming home at the end of a long journey and the equal joy of leaving at the beginning of a new adventure.

But there have been few things that have quite rivalled that of watching my mother being charmed by Professor Dandelion.

Of course, we stayed at the Rosemary and Thyme, where else were we going to stay?

That was a good evening and it is one that I will never forget. People keep telling me that the good times and the good days are only going to become more numerous over the next few weeks and I cannot wait.

I watched as Laurelen played Gwent with Master Chivay and thrashed him. I watched as Ariadne and Shani shared some drinks and sat exchanging notes on this and that and I had the joy of listening to Professor Dandelion sit my mother on the stage before he serenaded her as the most beautiful woman on the face of the continent to the good-natured cheers and laughter of the company.

The Professor has been invited to the wedding and he has graciously agreed to perform.

“I am happy to do so,” he declared with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. “Providing I have the choice of fair ladies of the wedding party.”

“Yennefer is in the wedding party.” I pointed out to see the Professor pale most gratifyingly.

“Well, perhaps I might tempt…” He turned to Mother.

“I am old enough to be your mother.” She told him.

“He’s older than he looks.” Shani declared loudly.

“Shani, you wound me.” He clutched his hands to his chest as though his heart was about to burst. “Then if the fair lady declines perhaps….”

“I’m gay,” Emma told him.

“And I’m taken.” Laurelen put firmly.

“And I’m not in the wedding party,” Shani said.

“Lady Eilhart is.” I offered. Dandelion’s face, if possible, went even paler. “Or Lady Maleficent if you want to try for a dragon.”

“What are we talking about?” Priscilla had just come off stage and wanted to know about what was going on.

“We are discussing which ladies of the wedding party the good minstrel here is allowed to seduce,” I told her.

She didn’t even blink.

“That’s fair enough.” She said, pouring herself a drink. “Personally speaking I have come to an arrangement with Master Kerrass here who has promised me that I wouldn’t be able to walk in the morning.”

Kerrass had heard his name from where he was playing cards with Zoltan and looked over.

“Also,” Priscilla went on with an absolutely straight face. “Apparently, Lady Metz enjoys sharing and I was hoping I could get both Witchers at the same time. I mean, that miserable bastard of a Witcher must have something going for him to keep a lady like Keira Metz entertained for all of these…”

“Ermm… Perhaps we should talk about this.” Dandelion had been getting increasingly uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?” Priscilla asked, radiating innocence. “I mean… It’s a hardship really but if you must have your fun then I must seek my entertainment elsewhere.”

I’ve always wondered if the pair of them do this kind of thing deliberately.

-

Entry 108

Back to business this morning. The women all gathered together in a giggling little knot and went off to Emma’s tailor. She has her own that she and Laurelen use. My understanding was that this was just going to be a small visit to check that the measurements for Emma, Shani and Laurelen were up to date. Primarily though, the purpose of the matter was to properly and thoroughly measure my mother for her dress because she had changed shape over the last couple of years and there was still time to do adjustments. After that, They were all going to troop off to the proper seamstress that was making Ariadne’s wedding gown.

Not the same people apparently which was something that I had only just learned that day. I don’t know why. Something to do with workload and the time it takes to properly measure and prepare a wedding dress.

My opinions on the matter which were, essentially, that I wanted to marry Ariadne and she could wear sackcloth, her work clothes, the same dress that she uses to work in the fields or nothing at all if that’s what she preferred. I had been laughed at although I had seen a glint of subtle, shifting humour in Ariadne’s eye at that last. A certain calculating expression that I was coming to love.

Unfortunately, it was a little heartbreaking in its current context because she was wearing that look as Kerrass and I walked away. She was just on the outside of the group, watching the other women interact. Not quite completely a part of it, watching all of the other's behaviour. I knew this attitude, she was making sure she was doing it right.

I was both heartbroken and encouraged. The woman I love is also nervous about what is coming next which put us on the same level. The ancient vampire and the young man. But also heartbroken, she was watching the moment the same way that she watches one of her experiments in the lab, rather than enjoying the moment.

I nearly stopped Kerrass to approach her and be gently encouraging.

But I love my sister for a reason. As I watched them walk away, she grabbed Ariadne by the arm and tugged her back into the middle of the group. Laurelen was obviously primed and took my love’s other arm. Mother is no slouch at this kind of game either and soon took something up and before long, the five of them were walking down the street into the heart of Novigrad’s shopping district, singing. Accompanied by their guards, maids and companions all.

It was enough to bring a little tear to my eye. As I turned away, I caught Kerrass watching me.

“The two of you will be fine.” He told me.

I nodded and we moved off.

Our tasks worked in order. We were reassured that the women were going to take all day about it and that we might even end up moving on into tomorrow which suited me fine. Professor Dandelion is very accommodating and I have often set up in the corner of his main room to work. I had brought an entire stack of grading with me as well as this journal as I felt sure I would have things that I would want to talk about over the next few days.

First, Kerrass and I went for our suit fittings. Tailors are wizards and the elf looked at the pair of us up and down before he took out a piece of measuring tape which he wrapped around our upper chests before nodding and picking us out some pre-existing suits to just check the fit. I can’t speak for Kerrass but the suit that he chose for me was already a perfect fit and I said so. He just smiled at me.

He’s an elf who lives just outside of the city walls and something that I’ve noticed about elves is that they smile with their ears. We were informed that we would need to come out for another fitting just before the wedding to ensure that there had been no particular weight or body adjustments during the groom’s festivities beforehand so that final adjustments could be made.

We left him promptly greeting his next customers with a smile and a wave. He had been recommended to me by Professor Dandelion and I must say that the man has a gift.

From there we went to the Imperial administration building where Imperial Intelligence keeps its public offices. The guards stopped us and we had to leave our weapons at the gate. Mother had frowned that I was still carrying my weapons everywhere I went but had said nothing. I was pleased to note that Carys was treated with respect.

The guards spoke to her in Elven and she was invited to wait in the mess. Taking her there were a couple of guardsmen that removed their helms and would turn out to be Elves themselves. The lot of them wandered off, chatting in their language. Carys likes to forget that I can speak Elven and she immediately launched into an exchange of gossip with the two guards about how if they needed other work, the Coulthard garrison was a good place to work.

The building itself is a large, almost keep-like structure. I understand that it was once some Lord’s Manor house. There have been extensive building works to link it up with city defences. It’s largely an administration office where people come to talk about taxes, zoning, city planning, trade, commerce and that kind of thing. Not a court and nowhere near the kind of thing that the mayor's office is. But this was the building that provided the necessary bureaucracy to allow everyone else to do it. We were led into a particular wing, through some offices where a whole bunch of black-clad people watched us curiously before we went upstairs and into an antechamber.

As it turns out, I know the current head of Imperial Intelligence in Novigrad. The old Watch Commander of Oxenfurt seems to have been promoted.

The last time that I had seen him was when he had come to Father’s funeral. He’s an ill-tempered old bastard who I had kind of been aware of when I was a student. I have cause enough to be grateful to him as he was the one that kept Sir Robart off my back when the puss-filled bag of puke had been trying to hang Kerrass and me for Witchcraft and had deliberately looked away when the night of the bonfires had happened.

He had been expecting us and we were not kept waiting long before we were shown into his office. I’m told that he now has a, not small, residence in Novigrad itself as well as a nice manor house out in the country that you can only find if you know where it is. Not because he’s afraid for his life, but because he’s become increasingly private.

It is one of the longer-term mysteries that I have wanted to discover the answer to for far too long, but I still want to know how he met his wife. His being an old, crippled soldier whose recruitment into the Oxenfurt guard was something that he did because he was too angry to be declined. He proceeded to be so angry, offensive and utterly competent that they could not avoid but promote him.

After that, he rose to prominence after the peace treaty and rose to command the Oxenfurt guard. He had a reputation for annoying the older academics to the point that he collected complaints that they made about him. Rumour has it that his superiors out of Novigrad would forward them to him and he kept them in a book.

So how did a man like that capture the eye of the beautiful Lady Paulette I will never know? Where he is a hard, grizzled old man, she is soft with wavy dark hair and a ready smile. Where he is sharp-edged and grouchy, she is kind and gentle. She winces whenever he gets angry before gently diverting him although she never apologises for his displays of temper.

Which subtly reinforces the fact that she agrees with him.

I had not heard that he had been made into the head of Imperial Intelligence for Novigrad. We were kept waiting in the antechamber for about five minutes before a very angry man left the central office and stalked past us with the look of someone who was considering who he wanted to murder. I had to keep from laughing as I saw the old Commander’s style at work.

After that, we waited another two minutes before a young man in impeccable Imperial livery came to fetch us and take us into the office where the old Commander rose to meet us.

“Commander,” I said automatically holding out my hand.

The young man sniffed disapprovingly and the old man glared at him as he took my hand.

“Technically, it’s ‘Lord-Commander’ nowadays.” He told me, shaking hands with Kerrass before gesturing into the room. He stalked over to a desk that looks barely used and sat behind it.

“Pull over a comfortable chair would you.” He told us both. “The last fucker was trying to get one past me so I made the bastard stand. But you two don’t.”

I chose an upright chair with cushions while Kerrass pulled over a proper armchair.

Other than the desk which looked all but pristine and freshly varnished, the room had a well warn look of a place where people work rather than just being there for display. I had, at first glance, thought it was a movable office. The kind where anyone that needs an office will just book it and then move in but there were signs that it was definitely the commander’s office.

As is sometimes the fashion, there were two suits of armour on stands in both corners behind the desk. The first was his old watch uniform that was obviously patched, faded and much loved. And in the other corner was the old Redanian suit that he had worn as a footman in the armies of the North. Like the other, it too was battered, patched, dented and was missing the left arm piece from when he had had his left hand mangled.

His old shields were strapped up over the heart, the kite shield of the foot soldier that he had been and the round wooden shield of the watch, both in Redanian colours with the wooden one having the addition of the Oxenfurt coat of arms. There was a halberd, a mace and a Warhammer as well as an old watch cudgel that was also decorating various bits of the room.

There was a portrait of the Empress on one wall glaring down at us. One hand was behind her back and the other looked as though it was holding something. She was dressed in male clothing, trews and doublet, sword at an improbable angle on her hip and it looked as though she was glaring at the room as though we had done something wrong.

“Do you like my portrait of her?” The Commander asked. He was sitting behind the desk now, stretching his legs out and propping his carved wooden left hand on the desk.

“I was wondering.” I began, still looking up into the face of the Empress. “If it was once a portrait of the Emperor and they just painted over his head to save time. The Empress can be terrifying but she’s not that kind of… oppressive.”

He laughed. “I find it puts people off and had it painted especially,” He told us. “Refreshments? I have a man for it now and everything. We can probably manage tea, even coffee or something mulled?”

“Coffee would be good if you have it?” I said.

“His woman likes coffee,” Kerrass told the commander. “And he’s trying to get more of a taste for it.”

“Wise.” The Commander declared. “Very wise. Take some advice from an old married man?” He gestured and one of his associated people left the room.

Being an Imperial official, meticulous records had to be kept regarding his actions and as such there were two scribes in the room. Kerrass saw them before I did and I only saw the one. There was a cubicle behind one of the tapestries that covered the wall where one man stayed and another was behind a screen in the corner.

“Of course,” I said.

“You’re already doing it in some regards. Learn to love what she loves but remember that there is nothing wrong with having some things that you hold back for yourself.”

I nodded.

“Never go to bed angry. If it takes you all night, have the argument out until it’s done.”

“This is actually good advice,” Kerrass told me.

“Also, never miss an opportunity to be the first person to apologise.” The commander told me. “It will turn out that she will often be longing to apologise to you too. Do not be stubborn in that regard. Learn to compromise and if you do have lines that you won’t cross, or don’t want to cross… Well… you should already have had that conversation before you got to this point.”

“They are well suited in that regard,” Kerrass told him.

“Good then.”

“You are coming to the wedding of course?” I wondered.

“I have been threatened with being fired if I don’t.” He sniffed. “And my wife insisted.”

I grinned.

“Also,” he said after a moment. “Did you know that there is a bonus in my line of work if anyone manages to recruit you to the service?”

“I did actually,” I replied while Kerrass struggled not to laugh. “The ambassador in Toussaint told me about it. I will give you the same answer that I gave him. No.”

He grunted. “Why not? You would be serving the continent and it pays well.”

“I don’t want to have to think like that all the time,” I told him. “I mean, it’s hard work and I just…. I don’t want to be suspicious of everyone I meet. I don’t want to be the kind of person that automatically thinks the worst of everyone and think of ways that they could be working on messing me up or otherwise destroying people. And then I don’t want to be the one who… I want to live as an optimist, not a pessimist about people. I hate it when I have to think like a twisty ball of twine after a cat has got at it. Also, whenever someone says something about it all just being some kind of game, I have this real urge to punch them in the head.”

“I have that same urge.” The Commander admitted. “No one wants to do this kind of work and anyone that does should be taken outside and have their throat slit as a general principle. It would be a kindness to them and the people around them. But the work still needs to be done. We still need to protect the people around us because if we don’t, that is when the trusted friend will turn on us. It is vital that this work is done and if you don’t do it, who is going to be the poor fucker that has to step up? And here’s the question that snared me. Would they do a worse job than you would?”

“It’s a compelling argument,” I admitted. “But also a dirty trick. Almost enough for me to consider it cheating. My counter to that argument is that I would not be able to perform that duty for long before I would hate myself enough to be forced to stop. And I have plenty of other duties which include teaching other people how to think as well as administering my lands and looking after my wife. Also, I’m a public figure with a habit of writing things down. Surely, you don’t necessarily want that kind of thing to be noted down somewhere on a piece of paper.”

He laughed. “You understand that I had to try.”

“Of course, you are very trying.”

Another old joke and we all laughed at it as some black-clad pages came in and served us all coffee and some small cakes that the Commander scowled at before eating two at a mouthful.

“They’re trying to gentrify me.” He told me when he noticed me looking.

“I notice that your wife has told you how told a cup,” I told him.

“Yes, although my pinkie still has the urge to stretch out on its own.”

“I have a question.” Kerrass butted in. “I knew you for a while. I could not have imagined you taking the Imperial florin and working for them.”

The commander grimaced around a mouthful of cake.

“I nearly didn’t.” He admitted.

“Your wife?” I guessed.

“That and other things. I was a soldier and I was hating the black ones since before you were an itch in your daddy’s pants.” He told me.

“Even when we were at peace, we were getting ready for the war. One of those things that everyone knew was coming before it did. Old King Vizimir was good at that kind of thing and although we did exercises against the Temerians and in the mountains against the Kaedweni skirmishers, on the shore against Skelligan, Cidaran and Cintran raiders. We all knew who we were really training against.

“But then this black-clad fucker turns up in Oxenfurt. He’d been sent there to recruit me and wanted to station me here. I told him to go and fuck himself because, why wouldn’t I?”

As an aside, I noticed that even the scribes were wincing at this use of language. But they didn’t stop writing it all down anyway.

“He was a general of some kind. Not Voorhis but someone in that command structure and he was definitely sent. He told me the deal. I would be made The Commander of the Imperial Intelligence stationed in Novigrad while also covering the Pontar valley up to Flotsam. They wanted me because I was local and knew how the people worked. I told him that I would never work for the Emperor or his filthy spawn.”

He laughed at the memory.

“He told me that that was why they wanted me. He explained that they needed locals to stop the war from breaking out again, or to stop people doing damage to trade and property or the like. To prevent the war, or to prevent other people from getting excuses to go to war. We needed intelligence. We needed to sniff out plots and schemes and this and that and the other. It was explained that they couldn’t trust the nobles who were too selfish to do it. The military had not been properly melded yet. The merchants would use the opportunity to line their own pockets and the academics would be too tied up. They wanted someone like me to do the job and as I was there, ready-made for their requirements. Then they wanted me.

“I saw their points, all of them but I was still reluctant. And then he played on my pride, the whole, if it wasn’t me then who would I rather give the job to? That worked more than I was entirely happy with. And it came with a title bump, some land and a noble title which I cannot deny I enjoy rubbing in some of the arrogant fuckers faces whenever people get uppity. I’m a Knight Commander now.”

He stuck out his chest with false pride and we all laughed again.

“I made some ridiculous demands that I never expected them to agree to. Like, I would expect full access to everything that they all knew, which they agreed to on the spot, much to my surprise, I wanted some time to think about it. The wife was enthusiastic and that night, I couldn’t sleep with thinking about how I would do the job. So…”

He shrugged.

“How’s it finding you?” Kerrass wondered.

“It’s not so bad. I have a second who is much smarter than me, that was recruited from the Imperial war college, is a member of the Imperial Guard and was born in the city of the golden towers. If I cut the fucker in half then he would bleed Black and Gold if you know what I mean. I thought I would hate him but he’s determinedly competent. Follows orders without question and behaves exactly as I want a second to act. I think we keep each other honest and he has never once tried to make me political. The most political we get is when we decide that it’s all above our paygrade and sent it up the chain to have someone else have a look at it. Which…”

He leaned forward and tucked his legs under his desk.

“Which leads me onto your fucker. Phineas. He looked solemn. “Something’s off about all of that and I don’t know what it is. I mean…” He shook his head.

“Talk us through it?” Kerrass asked. The older man smiled.

“It’s a long thought process so you’ll have to bear with me.”

“We’ve had some long thought processes ourselves,” I told him to which he nodded.

“I’ve not been doing this long and if there’s a thing that I don’t like about it is that sometimes, you get some information down or told to investigate a particular thing and then… you have to follow up with the brief that you are given. Sometimes the information is incomplete and sometimes you don’t get half the story. I hate that but it’s part of the job. Your Phineas is one of those things where I feel as though I’m only getting half the stuff I need to be able to do my job. Something is not right about all of the stuff to do with Phineas and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” I wondered.

“Why stir this over?” He wondered, looking at me slyly. “I heard about your illness you know. It’s not an unfair thing when that happens, not entirely unusual. That’s what happens when you go too far down the rabbit hole and your brain starts to beat you up. Why go over this again?”

“Because I have my holes in the narrative that I don’t understand and am not happy with the way it all adds up either.”

“And you’re hoping that something in my thought process will add up to something in your thought process and that between the two of us we might get to something?”

I nodded.

He sighed. “I know the feeling. Just so that someone has said it, you should marry that woman of yours and head off into the sunset with her or, whatever romantic equivalent you can think of. My wife likes a sunrise which made little sense to me, but she looks at me with those big brown eyes and…”

He fixed me with his eyes and bushy eyebrows.

“You should let it go.” He told me.

“What if it won’t let me go, even if I let it go, what if it will come and bite me on the ass, or you, or the woman that I love.”

He sighed. “And that’s the answer, isn’t it? And that’s how they recruit you if they think about it in time. Well, here’s what I know. It’s just too easy. Just too neat a package.”

“What makes you say that?” Kerrass wondered.

The old man poured himself another coffee.

“I’d only just been recruited when the bastards took your sister.”

I nodded.

“I was all over that shit.” He went on. We received word by Imperial courier as to what happened and it was the first time that I wasn’t grateful that I was one of the first people to know what was going on in the world. I remember your sister when she was just a little kid. She had the gift of it you know?”

“I do.” In the back of my mind, I was reminding myself that I would need to ensure that I spent some time with Ariadne tonight. For reasons that I don’t understand and should probably think about, when people talk about my sister to my face, I go all stony, even when people are getting emotional, I can listen and sympathise and even be understanding to them. It’s as though it was happening to someone else. But then I will get somewhere private, often later that evening and I just end up falling apart, with full-on sobbing and tears. I really should talk to someone about that.

“She would come into Oxenfurt with your sister or something and she was so sweet and kind and… Damn shame what happened to her. Fucking Toussaint trash with their shiny armour and poncy swords, not looking after her properly.”

“They did their best,” I told him.

“And their best wasn’t good enough.” He snapped before shaking his head and sighing. “But we got the news up through the couriers and we went to work. We shook everyone down. Looking for news of your sister and no one knew anything. Fuck, there were even some members of the underworld that were as angry as I was. Scum has standards and they recognised Lady Francesca, same as I did.”

He blew his nose.

“We went through all of our territories and then the black market and the underworld did the same and they were far less precious about it than we were. I don’t know who’s running Whoreson’s old crew nowadays but they let us know that they were on it and that they wouldn’t want a reward if they found her.”

“What happened?”

“Fuck all.” He replied, sending for more drinks. “The same thing that normally happens. A couple of people shopped their neighbours, a couple more people shopped their enemies and tried to insist that she was in the basement of this or that and it always turned out to be someone’s attempt at throwing their enemies and neighbours under the apple cart. And then the next crisis turned up and we just kind of moved on. We kept an ear open as we were ordered to. And then it petered out.

“There was that business when Robart, the little shit, tried to start something with you and your sister. Fuck, I even investigated him to see if he had done it out of spite.”

I snorted.

“De Radford was not clever enough to pull that off,” Kerrass said.

“No, I know but it was a thought I had that maybe he had hired someone and… well you know. But he was clean of that. Stupid, kind of corrupt, patriotic to the old country and foolishly racist but he didn’t take your sister. Speaking as a man that struggles not to call an Elf “Knife-ears” and a dwarf “short-arse” you understand. But de Radford makes common garden variety racists like me look bad.

“Then there was the whole who-ha in the North which you stirred up. And we caught a couple of refugees from that as well. We were highly involved in that operation, closest major sea-port and a lot of them thought that because Novigrad was technically a city-state, then we would be separate and outside the authority of the Empire.”

He sniffed to show what he thought of that.

“But nothing major. Phineas was on the lookout lists, near the top, in fact, we kept our eyes for him. We went through all of the old Mage quarters and spoke to all of the old folk that were involved in smuggling magic users around back in the day when the terror was going on. Nothing. Not a sausage. We searched quite a lot as well. We even had magical help from the Lodge of all people.”

He laughed at a memory.

“That Lady Maleficent is a one for that. She turned up with the horns sticking out of the top of her head in her long robes and black staff. Turned up in green smoke so suddenly that I fair shit myself. But she and Lady Eilhart turned up with a couple of other apprentices and a few men from Nilfgaard and they helped us turn Novigrad upside down looking for cultists and rogue magic users.”

“Did you find any?” Kerrass wondered.

“Oh yes. We found a Necromancer that was trying to speak to his dead wife, a couple of hedge mages that had managed to educate themselves a bit that they carted off to get a proper education and a whole heap of shitty old magical artefacts that we confiscated. Lady Eilhart guessed that it was due to the mage underground selling their old wares to keep themselves in food and the like.”

“Not a bad haul,” Kerrass said. “And about what I would expect to find if I was combing through a city for a rogue mage.”

“I agree.” The commander said. “So did Lady Eilhart and Lady Maleficent. And after that, Phineas is public enemy number one. I understand that the folks up in the north catch every fucker else. Every VIP on the list is either caught or interrogated. There’s that Elf that you talk about in your journals and I’m not entirely convinced that I would have let her go if our positions were reversed. But other than her, we get everyone else, other than Phineas.”

I felt myself nodding. The commander got it, he understood where I was going with all of this.

“Some of my people were taken north to help.” He told us. “The service isn’t long in the North. We had agents, or so I’m told, but they were involved in the political sphere and the royal spheres. But you should both know that what you did in the North in bringing down that awful cult and all of the people involved in that… shocking group of people. You changed the North. And in future, when people sit around and talk about the big actions that have huge, continent-shaking effects. People are going to be talking about the fall of that cult.

“The biggest combined effort by the combined actions of three churches, Melitele, Eternal Flame and Kreve. Imperial and Redanian Armies and the Lodge of Sorceresses. I understand that your missus even brought in some of her other brethren to help finish them off. “ He told me. “All of that and we don’t find Phineas. He’s the one that got away and everyone. EVERYONE involved is furious about it and promises to redouble their efforts to find the fucker. Including me.”

He sighed. “Flame but I want a drink.”

He turned and stared into space. “It all goes quiet after that. We get involved in the matter with Skellige, we find a group of people that are plotting the overthrow of Queen Regent Adda and another group of people that are plotting a rebellion against the Imperial throne to put Adda back on it. A group of pirates wanted to go and take advantage of the end of the Skeleton Ship in Skellige.”

He laughed.

“I rather think that those idiots should be grateful that we caught them before the Skelligans did. But that’s a different argument for a different day.”

He leant forward.

“And then we get the word out of the South that it turns out that Phineas was involved in that business in Angral. From there, we redouble our efforts to find him. Because those are the orders. We look for him and then soon after that. Wouldn’t you know it, but we find the fucker. Just like that. He was hiding in Novigrad in the middle of Winter waiting for a ship to take him to Ofier. As far away as he could get without travelling beyond the edges of the map.

Just like that, we find him.

“We catch him fairly easily with the help of some Imperial garrison mages. They do something that sounded technical and he couldn’t get away. We interrogate him and he’s barely in the chair, we barely have time to do the whole, showing off the instruments thing. We’re still establishing the rapport and enforcing the fact that we’ve got the bastard. And more than that, he’s in dimertium as well which I understand is low-grade torture for mages as well.”

“It’s like Ice being held against your skin,” Kerrass told him. “Or hot metal. Sometimes both.”

“Well, there you go. I’ve never been happy with that kind of thing and hold that a good interrogator doesn’t need to use physical persuasion and it was above my paygrade. They send a specialist from Nilfgaard who gates in a day after we catch the fucker. He talks to Phineas for half an hour, which is nothing, and suddenly, Phineas is spilling the beans. He tells the Imperial guy about how he took Francesca, how he tortured her and about how he… Sorry, Coulthard,”

“It’s alright,” I told him after pinching the bridge of my nose for a moment. “We’ve always known that Francesca’s death would not have been nice.”

“Yes, well… Phineas sang just enough to convince the Imperial guy about the fact that it was him and that he definitely did it. There were things he knew about the initial kidnapping and the magic involved that got the entire thing in motion. And then he just bit his tongue off and choked on the resulting mess.”

He shook his head.

“If there were mages present, why didn’t they try to heal him?” Kerrass wondered.

“Apparently they tried but the magic just wouldn’t take on his body. It sounded technical but apparently, his body just didn’t want to be healed. Then that Lady Yennefer that I’ve heard so much about turned up and did an examination. Some of the older Imperial types talk about her from back when she was working directly before the Emperor and say that she was terrifying in her wrath. Well, she was certainly living up to that story now. She looked him over and told my boss that had turned up at some point, that Necromancy wasn’t going to work and then she left in a huff.

“And that was that. We cleaned out his room…”

He got excited and slapped his desk. “But even that was empty. There was nothing there. Fuck all. Just some detritus that he’d definitely been living there. Living there for quite a while actually. One thing that academics in Oxenfurt have in common with mages. You never see them without at least one book or a journal on them. But he had nothing, not a thing. Not even a chalkboard.”

We sat in silence for a long time after that.

“I can see why you’re unhappy,” Kerrass said after shaking his head suddenly. “I would be too.”

“So would I,” I admitted. “And it’s part of the reason that I’m… If he waited until now. Why do we catch him now? And not then.”

“He’s been on the run for at least a year.” The Commander agreed. And the man has balls of solid rock. He was in Angral and he was in Toussaint to abduct your sister. And whatever else he was involved with, he was involved with that. That wasn’t a lie. We had a mage watching and he could not have been lying.”

“Hang on.” Kerrass nearly fell off his chair. “A mage could tell that he was lying but not heal him.”

“EXACTLY.” The Commander said, pointing. “Exactly. Everyone, including the mage, thought that was strange but we couldn’t find anything to say otherwise. So our timeline of him is that he was involved in Angral which is where he comes across you and your family. You have since found out that he was in Oxenfurt around your Father’s death.”

“How did you know that?”

“Come on Coulthard. I’m the head of Imperial Intelligence in Novigrad.”

“Fair point.”

“After your Father’s death he was involved in attacking your family and Toussaint and while doing so, he evaded the Imperial Guard and the most powerful mages that the continent has to offer. He goes North which is when you finally clap eyes on the fucker…”

“When he could have easily evaded our sight,” Kerrass said. “He was show-boating.”

“Yes, he was.” The commander said. “So Angral, with a Duke, a Witcher, an Elder Vampire Sorceress and Fuck knows what else and we only catch a passing glance at him. Your Father’s death and again, we only get a passing glance and no real supporting evidence or testimony to say how important he was. Toussaint where… Fuck, My boss’ boss’ boss was investigating with all of the resources of the Empire and they don’t catch him. He goes North, back north or… just North, shows his face before you and we STILL DON’T CATCH HIM. And then we finally find a passing witness which suggests, not even proves but suggests, that Phineas was involved. And then we catch him? A small contingent of guards in Novigrad get the job done?”

He shook his head.

“It stinks. I mean it’s made my name in the service, but it stinks.”

And he was right.

“But I can’t prove it. There’s nothing else to go on and believe me I have looked. The house was rented from about a month beforehand by the couple that live in the basement. We tracked it back and it turns out that someone made contact with one of the old brokers that used to take care of the mages while they still had a working underground in Novigrad. One of the criminal ones, not those with a noble cause to fight. Someone who was just in it for the money.”

I nodded to show that I understand.

“The bastard was just in it for the money, being the middleman that put people who wanted to hide in touch with those people that had rooms to spare to make a quick crown. He got the contract through his normal avenues. I took great delight in hanging the bastard. My mother had to go to people like him and I remember how much they always loved it. The power over the desperate. But he knew nothing else. The effort was quite carefully done and there was no way to identify who had arranged the building. Or even if it was Phineas that did it himself.

“It’s a hovel. You can go and see it. I’ve written you a warrant which will let you past the guards that I posted as soon as I got your request.”