Silence fell for a while after that was finished. Leaving me feeling drained and exhausted, let alone the other people that were involved. I felt the anger and the frustration of the commander though. It was a lot like my own anger and frustration and as such, I felt my own feelings being banked up like a fire.

“I have a question,” Kerrass spoke up.

It is so easy to forget that Kerrass is in the room. He has this trick of just fading into the background. I wonder how he does it and whether or not it’s a technique that could be learned. It strikes me as being something that would be particularly useful in courts and faculty meetings.

I could have a nap while everyone argues with each other.

“What’s the question?” The Commander said, eating another small cake as he did so.

“When did Phineas bite his tongue off?” Kerrass wondered.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well… He all but admitted that he was involved in the kidnapping of Francesca and then at some point after that, he bites his tongue off and chokes on the blood. Right?”

The commander nodded with his mouth full.

“So that would take a lot of work. Not only work but a lot of effort and willpower. I don’t know, having never done it before, but biting your tongue off would be hard. It would hurt and then to not, reflexively spit the blood out so that you can choke on it or drown in the blood? That strikes me as being… I don’t know but it’s something. And a lot of it at that.”

The Commander nodded. “It is something that was commented on. The analysis of the matter, made by people that know more about this kind of thing than I do, is that such are the actions of a man who has been sent to die. It is the sign of a truly despairing man, or it is the sign of a man that knows something that the rest of us don’t. And that he doesn’t want that to get out.”

“It also prevents him from being used as a puppet for Necromancy,” Kerrass commented.

“Yes,” The Commander and I both shuddered while I touched the symbol of the Fire around my neck. “Someone mentioned that.” The Commander finished weakly.

Kerrass sighed unhappily.

“So he was sent by someone to come and do this.”

“That was my thought as well.” The commander agreed. “But we can’t prove it. To prove it we would need to backtrack on the man’s movements and the only sign of him that we have is from when he came into Novigrad itself. Before that we have nothing. And that in itself is strange. Everyone leaves a trace when they move. So he came from elsewhere, presumably wherever it was that he was hiding. And then he just gets found. So he exposes himself, deliberately and gets caught. I would have stayed hidden if I were him.”

“So would I.” Kerrass agreed.

“Unless we were getting close to where his hiding place was,” I suggested.

The Commander grinned. “And you say you wouldn’t work as an Intelligence operative.”

“It’s not that I can’t or wouldn’t make a good one.” I told him, “It’s that I don’t want to.”

“That is the avenue that is being pursued at the moment.” He told us. “But unfortunately, this is one of those instances where we are citing a lack of evidence to prove that something is true. Which goes against every instinct that I was trained in as a copper and then later as a Commander of Imperial Intelligence. What we have is a hunch and some circumstantial evidence that suggests that the thing is so. We. Have. No. Proof. And that means that I can’t devote significant resources to the pursuit of the matter and neither can the rest of the service.”

I swallowed an automatic and reflexive burst of anger and frustration. It wasn’t a strong one. I could see the sense. Then I had to fight down an urge to demand that they give us, Kerrass and I, what they had and declare that I would look into it if they couldn’t. That kind of thinking is what got me into trouble in the first place.

When I had done fighting all of that off, I looked up to see the Commander looking at me and smiling sadly.

“We’re still looking.” He said. “Just not as much as I would like. After all, I am paid to be a suspicious bastard nowadays and I have allocated some spare resources to what happened. I have also devoted some people towards looking into what happened at the night where you lot went all vigilante and burnt a bunch of bad people. I am interested in this swordsman that you have found news about.”

“How did you?” I began before he raised an eyebrow at me.

“Oh yes,” I said. “Imperial Intelligence.”

He looked a little smug.

Kerrass climbed to his feet. “In which case Commander, thank you for your time and we will leave this to the professionals.”

“Thank you.” The Commander rose to his feet. I was not looking forward to telling you both that you were not allowed to investigate all of this.”

“Not allowed?” I wondered.

“Yeah, I have orders that you are to be preparing for your marriage.” He told me with a smile.

“From whom?” I wondered.

“The highest authority.” He told me with a smile.

Kerrass cleared his throat. “In which case, if you could direct us to where Phineas’ rooms?”

The Commander nodded and drew us a little map.

“It’s already been searched several times.” He told us. “And searched far better than Robart searched your brother’s room.” He smirked at me and I winced at the memory.

“But if that whole sorry debacle taught me anything is that I shouldn’t underestimate you two. If you find anything, I trust that I will be informed.”

We made suitable promises and left.

There is not much to say about what was there. The Commander was correct when he described it as a hovel. It wasn’t even a hovel really, more like half a hovel.

It was in that part of Novigrad that the locals call “The bits.” Every city has a place like this, where to call it a slum is bad manners towards actual slums. There have been some efforts to gentrify the area in the years since the death of Radovid and some of the more dangerously crumbling buildings have been pulled down or have fallen down in the neglect. The city mayoral office had been giving the residents some incentives to relocate and some were doing so with a certain amount of reluctance and…

I’m back into lecturing and context-giving mode.

We went, and we met the landlord who lived up to the stereotype in that he was a weasly little man that was trying to charge the Imperial people with the fact that he couldn’t rent the room out to other people while it was under guard. He had greasy hair, and a pale face and still had the remnants of some kind of greasy food smeared around his mouth.

The guards were expecting us and we were shown in.

There was nothing there. We searched it although it was more for the form of the thing rather than any kind of expectation that we might find something. It was just as clear that professionals had already searched the place and Kerrass’ medallion didn’t shake once.

We were left standing in the middle of the room and couldn’t look at each other.

“What do I do now?” I wondered.

Kerrass didn’t have an answer.

-

Entry 109

Where Kerrass failed in knowing what I had to do next, Ariadne had a solution. Kerrass had taken me back to the Rosemary and Thyme where I had sat in the corner, writing up some notes on the conversation that we had had with the Commander. When Ariadne got back with the other ladies, all giggling and congratulating each other on their fashion choices, Ariadne instantly knew that something was wrong and strode over to my table to take over my care.

She got some food into me and then got some beer into me to wash it down.

After that, she confiscated my work and my journals, promising me that I could have them back the following day before she insisted that I joined the family for dinner that evening where we were going to the finest restaurant in Novigrad, followed by going to see the open air plays at the theatre, a recreation of the death of Mad King Radovid, and after that we spent time in good company where the music and the laughter flowed like water.

It was a hard beginning to the day, but by the end of it, I was laughing and smiling along with everyone else and the world didn’t seem as dark anymore.

The following day, there were still some more fittings to go to so I was able to nurse my hangover. I wasn’t in a lot of pain, just the leftover hangover feeling of feeling a bit weak and woolly, where the brain and the body won’t work properly and it leaves you needing to just stay still and comfortable for long periods.

I read, I made some notes and I took care of some correspondence that I needed to take care of while the ladies did the things that they needed to do. Afterwards, we had another pleasant evening and then we set off to come home again.

It was a good couple of days. Time spent with good friends, family and the people that you love will work wonders on the body and mind. I felt like I had had a full-on holiday and when I get back to Oxenfurt, I am looking forward to getting back to work.

-

Entry 110

The return journey was… Long. Long and hot and I don’t know which part of things made it worse. Did it feel particularly long because of the heat, or did it feel particularly hot because of the length of the journey and that there was no real escape from the heat. The ladies, other than Shani and Ariadne, could visibly be seen to be wilting as we moved.

Emma protested that she would find a cool place to work when things got this hot. Laurelen claimed that she would join her or cool a room before working in it. Mother claimed that she was often too busy in the abbey to notice when things got this hot, but given that the abbey was made out of cold stone, it was easy to retreat to the cooler air when it was necessary.

Kerrass and I? The last time we had been travelling at this time of year, we had been just finishing off the adventure with the Skeleton Ship and heading South. I would need to consult my travel journals to check the timing. But I feel pretty confident that I wouldn’t have noticed the heat. The year before that, we were at sea as we headed south to rescue sleeping beauty and the year before that, we were already in the South and working.

So it has been several years since I have been in this part of the North at this time of the year.

Kerrass grumbled quite a lot with it. He wanted to move quickly and take longer breaks but the women, especially Emma, vetoed that because riding quickly on side saddle can be done, but not as easily.

So we suffered and I am glad that that stage of things is over.

Ariadne is leaving tomorrow. We have conferred and we are both rather aware that the wedding itself is beginning to loom over both of us. I still have another lecture, a final lecture to give on the subject of Witchers and this one is a big one that has generated a lot of interest given that it is regarding the future of the Witchers themselves and the decisions that they themselves made which is that there would be no more Witchers. After that, there is going to be a period of preparation.

She wants to go back to Angral to prepare her lands for that bit of the harvest that she will not be present for. She needs to give out the orders and the authority to those people that need it before she travels back overland with the Duke and Duchess of Angraal who are, of course, coming to the wedding. There will still be wedding fittings and things but…

-

The Seamstress seemed to have it in hand.

She asked me what I was going to do regarding my investigation and I didn’t have an answer for her. I don’t want to think about it. It feels like I have failed in some way and I don’t like it. The last time that I felt as though I had failed, I ended up being very sick.

And the time before that, I embarked on a journey that nearly killed me on multiple occasions.

I don’t know what to do.

-

Entry 111

I’m struggling again. I’ve looked up to realise that I haven’t answered any of my mail, done any work, written anything, read anything or done any kind of preparation for… anything that is coming up. And that is not due to any kind of lack of anything to do. I’ve got plenty to do.

But I don’t want to.

Saying it like that makes it seem petulant and childish and that is how I feel. As though I am being petulant and childish. I am having to really work at convincing myself that this is an illness, something that has happened to me rather than something that I am willfully choosing to do.

Even that is hard.

I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried choosing one of the many many books and texts that Lady Yennefer has sent me on one of the many many subjects that we have to research and act on in the future. Even beings and entities that I am interested in such as the Headless Horseman. But my mind wanders halfway through the page and I realise that I have been reading the last couple of paragraphs over and over and over again to force the information into my brain and then continuing to force my brain to have an opinion on any of it.

I’ve tried thinking about the coming Lecture and my passion for the subject. Thinking about how proud I am of the Witchers themselves that they looked at each other and decided, all but en masse, that they weren’t going to do this anymore. That they were not going to be taking children away from… wherever they were being taken away from and tortured them into becoming like themselves.

The dark and bitter part of my humour has just equated that to how parents raise children.

I’m not going to pursue that line of thought.

But despite that I can’t get excited, I can’t get… worked up about what I’m going to say. I know what I’m going to say, but at the moment, if I walked into the lecture theatre right now, it would be like a dull recitation of facts. It would be boring, unengaging and uninteresting. I don’t want that. The Witchers deserve better than that.

I tried to write a letter and I spent an age sharpening the quill, checking the ink and then selecting the right piece of paper before realising that the ink had spoiled and on and on it went.

I’m honestly a bit mystified as to how I managed to put pen to paper to write in my journal.

I have failed again. The thought echoes around in my head, round and round and round again it is going. I have failed.

I have lost.

I’m having to make a real effort to ensure that I don’t just go back to bed.

-

Entry 112

The only consoling thing about what is going on in my head right now is that I know that I am sick, I know that I will get better, I just wish it would happen sooner rather than later.

I am writing these things down so that later, I can look back at my notes and realise that I am telling the truth. In my last entry, I wrote that I had failed, that I have lost.

This is untrue. But I understand why I feel like that.

I did find out some new information. I have placed Phineas on the night of the Bonfires where the heretics were burned and I have identified the presence of another player that Phineas was with. I understand that I am not too popular with whositss… Traiser and his family. The Bakers as the Imperial Intelligence descended on him and interrogated him with regards to Phineas’ presence and the presence of this mysterious swordsman.

Traiser wasn’t tortured but I imagine that he is sick of telling the same story over and over and over again. I also know that Imperial Intelligence is speaking to the other guardsmen who were at the Bonfires to see if they can find anything else on the movements of Phineas and this swordsman that he was with.

My frustration is that I feel as though I am so far behind the times. I find myself playing the “if only” game. If only I had properly paid attention then I would have seen Phineas and recognised him when I went north. If only I had noticed him with this swordsman. If only I had been there during the interrogation then I would have been able to see or find something else.

It’s all nonsense of course and that game is pointless. I am trying to counter that voice in my head by asking it would I could have, or what I would have done differently at the time, given only the information that I had at the time.

Life in general would be so much easier if we can look back with the benefits of having gone through it all in advance. I would have married Ariadne a lot quicker for instance.

But at the time, I could only act on what I knew at the time.

I have not lost. I have not been defeated. I found some new information and I have passed it on to the people that need to know this kind of thing.

That too is part of the frustration. I want to be involved, but there is nothing I can do other than wait for the professionals to do their job.

Back when my Father was killed, Kerrass told me that I would find it hard to be the client. The person that would have to stay at home and wait while the Witcher went off and did all the things that the Witcher needed to do. Looking back, he let me off easily. I am struggling with this.

All I can do is wait for the logical arguments that part of my brain is trying to make, to overtake the visceral, emotional arguments that my heart and body are trying to make.

The upside is that I have several days before I am forced to return to Oxenfurt to give my next lecture. The excuse that I am “unwell” will last me a few days yet. Apparently, it has been remarked that I am often “unwell” but that is not my business and is also, none of theirs. They should try seeing what I have seen and doing what I have done and let's see how they feel about it all.

Fuck ‘em.

-

Entry 113

Damn it’s hot. I mean it’s really hot. The air is like soup. If I were on the road with Kerrass we would be heading up to higher altitudes to find work for the Witcher so that we could find relief from this oppressive heat.

Kerrass has gone again. He waited for a couple of days after we got back from Novigrad but then claimed that he had some errands to run. He was cackling slightly and rubbing his hands together with glee so I assume it has something to do with my “stag” party or whatever that is.

In the meantime, I have found a patch of cool on the walls so that I can watch the pavilions and the temporary structures being put together in preparation for the wedding.

Whatever else can be said, Emma is sparing no expense on my wedding celebrations.

Inside the castle itself, the upper courtyard is being prepared for the upper-class guests to wine, dine and dance with each other. This will be an area of pretty dances, gentle laughter and polite conversations.

The middle courtyard is being put aside for more carnival elements. Long ago, Ariadne declared that she wanted all the traditions to happen and to take place. She wanted diving for shoes. She wanted fire breathers, jugglers and acrobats. She wanted pig chasing competitions and all of the other traditions that come with marriage. The middle courtyard is being set aside for a Gwent tournament and a large pavilion is being set up with specially carved tables for the purposes of the game. I don’t know what the prize is but I’m told that it’s going to be considerable. Although if this heat continues, I don’t envy the people that will be in there, wearing all their finery in the closed in heat.

This will also be where the paintballs will be thrown, the performances of the various art forms, the juggling, the minstrels and the acrobats.

The third courtyard is where the more boisterous entertainments will be taking place. This will be wrestling, archery, fist fights and pig herding.

Each of the three levels will have its own tavern and Kitchen area where guests can eat and drink at the expense of the Coulthard trading company. I understand that Chireadean is heavily involved with these efforts.

By necessity, entry into the top courtyard and the keep has to be done by invitation only. However, anyone can come and enjoy the festivities of the lower courtyards.

Much to the horror of several people. The Empress has declared loudly that she is bringing multiple changes of clothing so that she can move from one to the other. She has also declared that she intends to herd pigs and dive for shoes and much to the horror of more than one person she has suggested that she might throw one of her own shoes into the pond to see if anyone dares to dive for it.

There is an astonishing amount of industry to it all. I am watching as there seems to be a constant stream of wagons coming up to the keep to either be unloaded or otherwise directed elsewhere in the castle. I did suggest to someone that there should be someone on the gate that would tell people where to go and apparently that was tried, but all of the people that are providing these goods have a desire to have their goods served to the highest in the land. So they ignore the advice of the clerk in question and come up to the keep before demanding to speak to the person in charge and then being horrified that their goods aren’t good enough.

Chireadean is running a lot of this for Emma. He has a gift for it and has left the Inn in the good hands of his wife to help Emma direct the chaos. I am both enjoying and dismayed by, the latent racism that still seems to pervade everything as people constantly protest the fact that they are working for an elf.

The entire thing is rather fun to watch.

I think I’m beginning to feel better. Or at least, less shitty.

-

Entry 114

My depression is taking longer to lift than I would like but there is no longer anything for it. I need to go back to Oxenfurt and see if my routine will help lift me up. I will have a meat bun from Bill and have a drink in the old taverns. I will tease Dorthan and laugh at the street performers who are trying to get the last performances out of things before the weather turns and they all get rained off.

I’m also looking forward to seeing how Carys is doing, she seems to hate the heat.

-

Entry 115

That was the longest and most unpleasant ride to Oxenfurt that I can remember. Not because of the people on the road. Not because of Carys and her needling, she was all but silent during the journey. But because there was no escaping the sun or the heat. Even when we rode underneath tree branches and the leaves, the shade offered no respite. As it was, we had to stop often to water the horses and take on enough liquid ourselves so that we didn’t make ourselves ill.

On one occasion, I found myself wondering if we might have been quicker doing this on foot. Carys said nothing.

On a strange note though, the experience seems to have brought us together in a way that I could not have defined. As though the two of us have shared an ordeal that no one else could comprehend.

You would have thought we would have managed that, fleeing from the North with the Cult of the First-Born behind us but noooooo.

-

Entry 116

I am finding this tough going. Everything is an effort. And not just because the heat is nearly all-consuming. I mean, I am in my office at the moment. I’ve got the windows open and I have propped open my door in the probably vain hope that I can get some kind of airflow going on but it’s just not happening. As it is, I am in my shirt sleeves and that shirt is plastered to my back with my own sweat, my hair, which I would cut short if I wasn’t getting married in under a month, hangs around my head and feels filthy. I am barefoot and keep having to move my feet around against the floor to find a cold patch to try and cool everything off.

Nothing is working.

Even when I bathe in otherwise cold water, the said water soon warms up and I end up sitting in a pool of tepid water which is mostly made up of the sweat that was shed from my own body. I feel filthy and I am hating every second, every moment of the world as it ticks slowly by.

I think of the mountains of Skellige and the fresh, cool, salt air. I mean yes, the cooler air was made that way by the coming of the catastrophe that was otherwise known as the Skeleton Ship in that time and place. But my mind isn’t working properly.

I consider the fields of Toussaint which, because it is further south should, in theory, be warmer and more oppressive than it is in this time and place, but it was never that way to me. The fact that I have only really been in Toussaint in the Winter months is unimportant to my brain trying to work.

I dream of mountain air, the shade and smell of pine forests and the running of cool water over rocks.

I don’t know if my lack of energy is due to the heat, or because I am still fighting off my depression at the fact that I have only found a bit of new information regarding the various plots against my family.

The answer is that it’s probably both of those things.

They haven’t found anything. The resounding answer from those other guards that were at the bonfire is a resounding “Which Swordsman? There were so many.” And far fewer sightings of Phineas himself. He was there and we have been able to find a little bit more out about him but the problem is that in the darkness and the firelight, with all the screaming and shouting and general carrying on. All he had to do to hide in the crows was to raise his hood and that’s it. He’s just another cloaked and hooded man.

Several people saw him talking to a swordsman before abruptly raising his hood, so it’s also perfectly possible that he was there at the behest of someone. But many of the witnesses just assumed that he was someone’s pet churchman who would be arguing to have the sentence of the heretics commuted.

I have also been sent the transcript of the interrogation of Phineas. It was depressingly short and to the point. Kerrass’ hunch is not without merit. It certainly looks as though he bit his tongue off just as he was getting to the good stuff. So why admit to the Kidnapping of Francesca first? Why not bite your tongue off beforehand? Why give us that information and no more?

More questions that I do not know the answer to.

I want my energy to go into something else. It’s not as though I don’t have enough other things to worry about.

But those questions are haunting me. I need to get over this. I need to move on and do other things. But I can’t seem to convince my brain of those things.

The last Witcher lecture is the day after tomorrow. There are a few other lectures after that, but nothing particularly taxing or in need of any kind of mental fortification. I have given the lecture on Ghouls so often now that I can almost do it without thinking. There are only evert two questions that come up after that lecture which is “Why do we not domesticate Ghouls if they can remove the corpses of the land for us?”

To which the answer is. “Because they won’t stop at corpses. Because they carry all the diseases that the dead bodies carry and finally, if a place has ghouls, then it will attract other Necrophages like Alghouls, Rotfiends and worse.

Heaven help a settlement that attracts a Bullvore.

After that, it’s just the downslope to the wedding.

I wish it was over. I wish we were already there. I wish that Ariadne were on board the ship and heading for Kaer Trolde with me. I can practically taste the sea air and feel the cold spray on my face. I imagine Ariadne laughing with the movements of the ship and I smile. Flame but I want it so much. So very much.

Not least because then I wouldn’t be suffering in this stifling heat.

-

Entry 117

There is a thing that some people say. They are often well-meaning people that are only trying to help or to make you feel better. They are generally good people and really really, only want to help or to otherwise make things better. And even despite that, the natural urge of any kind of thinking person is to slap the stupid out of their mouths.

Today a student came to see me with some small questions. The kinds of questions that occur when you put a lot of students in one place. They were small, trivial questions that could easily be answered off the top of my head. But that would not help the student, not really. Instead, you are supposed to point the student in the direction of the book that they need to look at to find the information that they need. This is to teach the mind to think and to research and to do the work rather than to take shortcuts.

My recollection might be tainted by this young man’s attitude.

He was one of those students. Perfectly nice lad. Handsome, well muscled, graceful of movement. The kind of student that I hated when I was his age….

Listen to me. I’m twenty-two, nearly twenty-three and I’m talking about this kid like I’m some ancient old man. He’s probably Seventeen.

But he’s a glorious specimen of man-flesh. He is wearing a pair of tight trousers and just an open doublet that does little to cover his well-toned torso and his developed arms from the shoulder down. All of which glisten with a healthy sheen of sweat.

He was dropped off at my office by his girlfriend who is to the female of the species what he is to the male. Pretty, lovely, and wearing entirely too little clothing. The problem with them both is that I am CERTAIN that they are wearing this clothing to remain cool rather than to rub their affection and their beauty into the faces of passersby.

And this utter excuse for humanity as he was leaving, noticed my distress with the heat and said.

“Look on the bright side Professor. At least it can’t get any hotter.”

I was looking for something to throw at him when he fled.

-

Entry 118

It is the morning of the lecture. There has been a little bit of lessening of the heat today and due to the august personages that are due to attend, the lecture hall has been cooled. Something that Lady Eilhart volunteered to do.

Despite having increased experience with Lady Eilhart and knowing that a lot of her terrifying outer aspect is an affectation. I can’t help but be aware that she is a politician and that she does nothing without purpose.

So although there is doubtlessly something there that means that she did this for her own comfort and the comfort of the people around me, I can’t help but think that she made a big show of the fact that she was performing this service so that it could be seen to be performed.

That woman frightens me. And not in a good way.

Ariadne frightens me in a good way and she and I have both worked hard to transfer one kind of terror into another kind of terror. I can’t wait to be alone with that woman. But Lady Eilhart.

There is a theory that I have spoken about before which is that whenever we meet someone we automatically put them into one of those boxes. Are they a threat or are they a potential ally? And Lady Eilhart is a threat to some, instinctive, almost primal part of me. I cannot explain it.

This is odd because several people have commented that she and Ariadne share a lot of physical attributes. I’m not sure I agree. Lady Eilhart is hard where Ariadne is…

That’s it. Ariadne is curious about everything. Intrigued by everything and she stands back from it to watch it and take it in.

Lady Eilhart seems arrogant and aloof because she seems to not care about anything that doesn’t affect her or cannot benefit her in some way. Ariadne sees the people whereas Lady Eilhart sees the tools.

I wonder if she is lonely.

Having said all of that, I walked into the lecture theatre earlier, a habit of mine when I am gearing up for a big lecture, and I wonder if I can persuade her to cast the same spell on my bedroom, my office and a few other places that I could name. Or failing that, I wonder if the university would object if I fetched a pillow and slept in the lecture hall.

People are starting to arrive now. I should check my notes.

I wonder if I can persuade Lady Eilhart to teach this spell to Ariadne.

-

Entry 119

The lecture went well. Not perfectly as a couple of the questions that came out of the audience got my hackles up a bit and a few more places felt rushed. I think it was a problem of trying to put too much into one lecture. If I deliver this series again, which I suspect I might, given the Empress’ stated plans of rebuilding the Witcher schools, then I might ask for an extra lecture to get through all of the material.

But having said that, it seems that I am being my own worst critic as I was applauded and the number of compliments that I was paid was rather complimentary. Certainly, Lady Eilhart was frowning in thought and told me that I had given her much to think about. That is both something to be proud of and something to worry about. At the time of writing, I am unsure which it is.

Ciri was also there and told everyone that she wanted a private word with me. She waited until everyone was out of sight and then hugged me before thanking me. She looked a little emotional although I don’t know why.

Other than that, there were a lot of the usual types there and it seems to have gone well. The only person that thinks that I could have done better is me.

But that’s it now. Nothing left to do except prepare for my wedding. And yet, how does a man set about doing that?

I have done some research. At some point, I have to make a speech but other than that… There are a lot of things that seem to have been taken out of my hands. A lot of things that seem… superfluous. But the prospect of just sitting somewhere and whiling away the time while I wait for it feels a little bit too much like waiting for my execution.

Don’t get me wrong, the best possible execution that a man can have, but an execution nonetheless. And I am marrying the woman that I love. The thought of marrying an arranged bride or some woman that I have never met. Someone that Father, Mother or Mark would have arranged when we weren’t getting on. I shudder to think of it.

It is far too early to be talking about children. There is some question as to whether or not Ariadne and I can even have children and speaking personally, I would like to spend some time enjoying being a married man with a beautiful woman at my side before I move on to being a Father.

But if we can, and if we do. I will never ever force a child of mine, male or female, to marry someone that they don’t want to. They will have input into that kind of decision.

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I have a reception being held in my honour to attend. I wonder how much of all of it I will remember come the morning.

-

Entry 120

Plenty as it turns out. It was one of those things where I drank a lot but didn’t get drunk. Which I think is monstrously unfair given the hangover I have this morning.

Carys has no sympathy.

So now I enter that period that I have been dreading. I am sitting around with nothing to do. Which is a lie. I actually have plenty to do. Letters to write, books to read, research to do, but all of that kind of feels superficial and dare I say it, a little bit pointless.

This is the moment I’ve been dreading. I am struck by the paradox. When I am out on the road or run off my feet with this or that or the other thing. I find that I long for those quiet moments. Time for me to have a sit and read my book. To do some research or otherwise catch up on my correspondence. But now that I am here with nothing but freedom to do these things. I don’t know what to do. And worse than that, I kind of don’t want to.

I want to get the next few weeks over with. I just want to be married now. I want to sit somewhere quiet, either by myself or with Ariadne, and just… stay there. I have an awful feeling that I am standing at a crossroads. That there are storms before me, storms behind me and storms on either side. But I know taht I can’t stay where I am.

There is plenty to do and plenty to come up. Sam is going to arrive soon if he hasn’t set off already which, now that I’ve written that sentence down, is plainly stupid. He’s obviously already on his way with whatever entourage that he has chosen to bring with him. Hopefully not too large as otherwise, I am not sure how we would fit them all in.

Helfdan and the surviving crew of the Wave-Serpent have to arrive at some point. I am looking forward to seeing them in the context of my home and Oxenfurt. I long to introduce Svein to Rickard and Helfdan to Emma. That is something that I am really looking forward to. They will either hate each other on sight or they will swear eternal friendship.

I still have my stag party to enjoy and Ariadne’s hen party to endure.

There’s so much going on but I can’t…

Fuck. I thought I was past this kind of thing.

-

Entry 121

The dreaded moment has passed for now. It would seem that I am back to using this volume as a diary more than anything else. Not an entirely unexpected thing but there we go.

As a diary, I am forced to admit that I spent a couple of days falling apart after that last lecture. The sudden weight of everything that had happened and everything that was still going to happen was overwhelming. Coupling that with the hangover and the very real possibility that I was still rather drunk conspired to make me emotional and leave me vulnerable. I have spent the last couple of days putting my affairs in order and sorting things out from that perspective.

I have written the lectures still to come and I still intend to deliver those lectures but you never know. I am having to change my way of thinking. I am no longer going to be Freddie the lecturer and university professor. I must become Lord Frederick Coulthard, Groom to be. Guests are starting to arrive at the castle, not many, at the moment it’s only my mother but at the same time, things are beginning and I need to be prepared for that.

I need to help out with the festivities. Not necessarily anything practical, but I need to be there and be seen to be there. And it may come up that those duties will come into conflict with my academic ones. And right now, the lordly duties are going to be more important. I don’t like it, but there it is. Sometimes there will be a conflict and I need to be able to set my feelings straight on the matter.

I just wish it wasn’t so damn hot all the time.

In other matters of things. I have been told by both the Imperial Intelligence service and the Oxenfurt city watch that I should get over it and leave them the hell alone. They were more polite than that and used words like “when we know something, you will know something.” On the one hand, it is good that I have enough influence that I can compel loyalty like that. But on the other hand. I want to be there, getting involved and doing things myself.

This isn’t helping.

I need to get over it. I need to move from one state to the other. But unfortunately, I can’t seem to force my brain to do what I want it to do.

-

Entry 122

Well, that tears it.

There is a theory in certain circles that the universe listens to us. So that when someone says something like “It couldn’t possibly get any worse” or words to that effect, the universe has a way of finding some method of punishing us for our impertinence.

I have received word that Lady Eilhart is currently staying at the castle. She and Laurelen are collaborating on some kind of project and as Lady Eilhart will be at the wedding, she has decided to come early and the pair of them are working on the project.

Emma has sent a letter begging me to come home and help with things.

-

Entry 123.

The news just keeps piling up. I have received word that Sam is on his way and that he is currently a couple of days North of Novigrad with a small company of soldiers as his guards.

That could mean anything. I have heard the term “small company of soldiers” being used to describe anything from a dozen men to well over a hundred men.

Two days north of Novigrad which means that he’s somewhere between five days and a week away from home, that is presuming that he won’t spend any time in Novigrad itself.

I feel like a stone at the top of a mountain and that something has just tumbled me over the edge. I know that my tumbling and the tumbling of those stones around me will begin the avalanche that will devastate all before us, but at the same time, there is nothing I can do to stop it. Nothing I can do that will be able to stand in its way so all I can do is enjoy the journey. To tumble over the edge and enjoy the ride.

It’s going to be terrifying and glorious.

-

Entry 124

I gave my last lecture today. Not my last lecture ever but it feels like that as I pack up my things to move back home. It was a lecture on ghouls and Necrophages in general. Not my best work but far from my worst. Something that just needed to be done and got out of the way.

But as I packed up my notes and picked up my file case to move off. There is a sense of finality to it. After today, it will be some time before I set foot in the university as a lecturer or a professor. From here I will return to the castle and take up residence to support Emma and all of the other people that are in the closing stages of preparing for my wedding.

After that, I will be going to Skellige to enjoy my time as a guest of the Queen and Jarl Helfdan. When I return to the mainland, I will be going to Angral to take up my duties there which may involve some ceremonies and various feudal efforts. All of that has to take place before I can start to think about how my life will work after that. During that time I will expect to be able to read, write and be able to work on my own projects, but at the same time. That will not help the academics and the students of Oxenfurt.

I hope that this isn’t a prophecy of some kind. I know for a fact that I have the magical propensity of a rather thick plank of wood so it is unlikely that I am having a premonition.

I have been away from the university before, for longer periods than what is likely to take place now. But at the same time, those absences were at least partially to do with the work that I was doing for the university.

This feels more final.

I will never not be Professor Coulthard of Oxenfurt University. But still…

-

Entry 125

Got home yesterday evening. According to our best estimates, Sam is still a couple of days away as I write this but at the same time. Something has happened, something minor and I feel quite… I don’t know how I feel about it.

So I’m going to write it down to try and make sense of the matter.

I was called into a meeting with Emma and Sir Walther Flamberge of Nilfgaard. Sir Walther is one of the masters of Ceremony of Nilfgaard and he has been sent to liaise with Emma with regards to the matters of heraldry and etiquette when it comes to the kind of high society wedding that mine is rapidly turning into. The problem is that the Empress has decided to be involved. And even though she would prefer to do so on a fairly low-key basis, the Empress’ presence comes with certain political baggage.

What that means is that Sir Walther has been involved in the planning of the wedding to quite the minute detail. He has been the one that has had to systematically work out every meeting, every meal, every piece of food, the whereabouts of every person and the whereabouts of their servants at any given time. He will, and has, decided who will sleep in which rooms in the castle and who will be at the disposal of those rooms.

He has decided who will be eating at which position and at which table for the many varied meals that will be taking place during the festivities. Including, but not limited to, the three meals that will be taking place on the day before the wedding. The wedding day itself and the day after the wedding as the various guests depart.

He also has to decide which guests are allowed to depart and in which order so as to not snarl up the roads and cause a problem for those guests that need to leave for matters of… precedence.

I once paid a visit to his offices in the castle and he was there with several assistants working out the seating plan for the luncheon that would be served the day before the wedding. He had a diagram of all the tables that would be set out in the castle’s great hall, a place that is hardly ever used since Father died and as I understand it, is mostly used to store furniture and various gifts that have been given to us and never used.

The giant stuffed bear for example.

He and his assistants had little flags with everyone’s name on it, a truly astonishingly large number of people and they were moving them around. One assistant had a large book open, several were at the various pigeonholes and a few more were moving the flags around.

Sir Walther was watching the entire thing. I got the sense of a master teaching his apprentices a lesson. He winked at me when he noticed me and when his apprentices stood back and declared that they were as ready as they could be and were happy with the set-up. Sir Walther declared that there was a problem and that the apprentices had forgotten a guest. The apprentices were in a flap for a while as they tried to figure out what was going on.

Turned out that they had forgotten to seat the Empress herself.

It was at this stage that I truly understood the undertaking that my wedding was turning into.

Emma and Sir Walther sat me down. Emma poured me a drink.

“What’s going on?” I asked. Not encouraged when the two of them exchanged glances.

“We need to talk about the weather,” Emma said.

The way she said it was as though she had just told me that I had been sentenced to death.

I took a deep breath and had a small sip of the drink that they had poured me.

“What about the weather?” I said, as calmly as possible.

The two of them exchanged glances.

“Ok well…” Sir Walther began. “I… uh… You have to understand that… Ummmm.”

“There has been…” Emma tried to take up the thread before running afoul of her own feet.

Suddenly the entire thing came across as being funny and I laughed at the pair of them. Emma saw the funny side as well and started to laugh, made worse by the fact that Sir Walther began to look as though he was affronted by whatever was happening, which made Emma and I laugh even harder. Eventually, he saw the funny side and started to laugh as well before the three of us just sat there giggling.

“What about the weather?” I asked again as things seemed to calm down.

“It’s like this.” Emma began. A bit more sure of herself and, I think, a bit less worried that I was going to lose my temper.

“The druids of Skellige have issued a storm warning,” Emma told me. “We know this because we have trading concerns and the Skelligans like us. Thanks again for that by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

“We are not the only people to be warned, however,” Emma went on. “Word of the coming storm has reached the Imperial court that is in Vizima at the moment and has also spread to the other side of the mountains.”

“Why is this important to us?” I asked.

“The Empress has declared,” Sir Walther took up the thread. “That she will be attending your wedding, out of fondness for you personally and her love for the departed Saint Francesca.”

Emma and I both winced at that.

“As she says these things,” Sir Walther went on. “That also means that a large number of dignitaries from both sides of the Yaruga river will also be there, if for no other reason than because the Empress will be there. Many more will be staying in Oxenfurt and still more will be in Novigrad to take advantage of the Imperial presence and all of the people that will be orbiting her.”

“It will be like the coronation,” Emma told me. “Even people who will have nothing to do with the wedding itself will want to be there to try and catch a piece of time of the courtier who is working for the courtier that is in charge of the lands that they govern and so on and so on. Men and women that will never meet you are going to be in the area.”

She said it with a certain amount of relish. Emma loves these kinds of things.

“However, the coming storm poses a problem.” Sir Walther went on.

“Why?” I wondered.

“Because we don’t know, and neither do the druids when that storm is going to fall. And the longer we wait for that storm, the more powerful the storm is going to be.”

“Meaning the more destructive that the storm is going to be.” Emma finished for him.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I get that. But what I’m not getting is why it’s important to us.”

“Because if the road conditions are too bad,” Sir Walther told me. “Then the Empress will be forced to stay in Vizima or someplace on the road. And given that she told everyone that she will be there, the wedding cannot happen if she isn’t.”

I nodded.

“The other problem is,” Emma went on. “That if the Empress doesn’t attend and you go on ahead regardless, we are insulting, not just her, but all of the people that are attending with her.”

“Couple that with the fact that such a storm will keep a lot of people at home who would have travelled here by sail.” Sir Walther went on. “Which would include the Queen of Skellige for example.”

“Ok,” I told them, holding up my hands. “I get the point. Regardless of whether she’s there as her Imperial Majesty or whether she is there as Ciri, friend and comrade. I want her there and I would imagine that Ariadne feels the same. Also, if Queen Cerys isn’t here then Helfdan won’t be here and if Helfdan isn’t here then all of my friends from Skellige won’t be here. I was looking forward to seeing them again. So, what’s the worst-case scenario here?”

The two of them exchanged glances.

“The worst case scenario,” Emma began. “is that the storm breaks a couple of days before the wedding day. Either on, or just before, Ariadne is having her Hen party. If that is the case, it will keep the Empress in Vizima as the Imperial party will not be able to set forth under those conditions.”

“What happens with Ariadne and me then?”

“A delay.” Sir Walther said. “Her Imperial Majesty is aware of your distress on this matter and has expressed her desire that you have the best possible day, as soon as possible. Therefore, as soon as she can set out, so too can the sea captains that will get everyone here that needs to be here. She has put the Imperial Navy at the disposal of those people that need to travel.”

I smirked at the idea. There were a lot of courtiers that I couldn’t see wanting to travel by Imperial warship.

“How much of a delay?” I wondered.

“At this time of year?” Sir Walther glanced at Emma who was watching me carefully. “We would expect no more than a fortnight at the outside. Most likely a week to ten days.”

I nodded.

“I have to ask the stupid question and I know that there is no good answer to this. But the Lodge of Sorceresses controls transport gates and I know that Ciri herself can teleport at will. Why do we not utilise these things?”

Sir Walther looked as though he had bitten into a lemon as I called the Empress Ciri and Emma took it up.

“Because at this stage of the matter, the sheer weight of traffic would mean that we can’t get a gate up and working in time. In Toussaint, at the time of the Coronation, there were still lots of people that came in by sea and river, not to mention roads. And although I agree that Ciri could, and probably would, just transport here for the party. Her Imperial Majesty cannot and must travel over land.”

“Yeah,” I said, scratching my head. “Yeah, I thought that would be the case.”

I blew out a breath.

“If the storm breaks afterwards?” I wondered.

“Then there is nothing to worry about,” Emma said. “You and Ariadne get married, the storm might keep you around as we won’t be able to get you on honeymoon in the meantime. And we keep our guests for a bit longer. And if the storm breaks beforehand, then nothing happens or the wedding is delayed… maybe a couple of days.”

I nodded along and I looked up into the concerned eyes of my sister.

“Ariadne and I have waited a long time for this,” I told her. “We can wait an extra couple of weeks if it comes up.”

In the end, I was quite proud of the fact that I was able to keep my voice level.

Emma’s eyes crinkled in relief. “That’s good, I thought you might want to elope.” She joked to the shock of Sir Walther. I get the feeling that the master of ceremonies does not, or can not have a sense of humour about these kinds of things.

“No,” I replied. “No… Ariadne deserves her wedding day. She has kept to convention as hard as she can and I will not spoil that for her now.”

I finished my drink.

“Although, you get to be the ones that tell her that the wedding might be delayed,” I told them.

“I understand that she is being told by one of the Lodge.” Sir Walther said.

I nodded to that.

“We just thought you should be prepared,” Emma told me. “Just to get your head into the space it needs to be to be able to deal with all of that.”

“Yeah.” I agreed. “Yeah, thanks.” I looked up at the ceiling.

Silence fell for a moment.

“Freddie?”

“Yeah.” I stood up. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go and pray for the weather to break in the next couple of days. That will, not only, mean that the wedding won’t be delayed. But it will also mean that… It will mean that I won’t be sweating my tits off with the heat in all of that buffoonery that I’m going to be wearing.”

Emma chuckled at the sentiment.

I fled.

-

Entry 126

Ariadne teleported to the castle that night. I was drunk, having started to get into them with Father Jerome, after leaving the meeting with Emma and Sir Walther I walked around in a bit of a daze, not knowing what to do with myself.

Everything that I had said was correct. That we had waited for so long and that we could easily wait another few days. But I don’t want to wait another few days dammit, I wanted the woman of my dreams to be in my arms.

As I walked around the castle walls, I messaged Ariadne that I was free to talk whenever she wanted. She was busy at that point and I can’t say that I particularly blamed her.

In the meantime, I went to pieces a little bit and felt exceptionally childish. I wanted to throw a tantrum, to kick and scream and refuse to comply with the way that the world works.

Eventually, I made my way to the family chapel where I found Father Jerome stretched out on one of the pews, snoozing peacefully. He woke when I went in and told him what had happened. Not being a stupid man he quickly realised that I needed a friend right then rather than some form of spiritual guidance and we proceeded to drink a bottle or two of the wine that he insists is usable for religious purposes.

After some time though, Ariadne came to the castle. She came abruptly and without warning so the first thing that I knew about her presence was when she came into the chapel.

I have seen Ariadne in tears before and it was somewhat, and unfairly, gratifying to know that in this case, I was not the person that had caused the tears.

Father Jerome beat a hasty retreat and the two of us sat together and held each other in tears before we realised that we were breaking several rules when it came to two unwed nobles being together before we were married.

She felt much the same way that I did in that a couple of days' delay wouldn’t kill us. If anything, she was taking it worse than I was which reminded me of the fact that her primary fear is of losing time with me. So a couple of days, to her, felt huge.

We walked together, we talked together, we drank together and we wept together. She joined us for dinner and she spent the night before leaving this morning.

It might only be a delay of a few days, but dammit…

I long for the moment when I have unfettered access to that woman. So that I can help her through the hard times and she can do the same for me. Yesterday would have been unbearable if it wasn’t for her.

I tried to reassert my routine this morning after I had seen Ariadne off. I smacked the crap out of some practice dummies, did some training, and spent some time on weapon maintenance, including the cleaning and oiling of the Axe of old Father Gargan. And tomorrow, maybe the day after, Sam will arrive.

I wonder what he’s going to make of the potential delay.

In the meantime, I’m going off to pray that the weather breaks. I do not hold out much hope, sweat has plastered my shirt to my back and my hair to my head again.

-

Entry 127

Sam arrived today and… well…

If the rest of the festivities and things that are building up to my wedding live up to this, then I am in for a good time.

Sammy did me proud.

He arrived a couple of hours after midday, pre-announced by a messenger to tell Emma that he had a hundred soldiers with him and to politely enquire as to where they should be camped or whether Sir Rickard had room for them in the castle barracks.

Rickard didn’t and there was a brief moment where we were concerned that this might cause some kind of rift, but at the word of that, the messenger had already been briefed. He asked, instead, where would be acceptable for the soldiers of his escort to bivouac down near the castle. He said that the Count of Kalayn was aware that the Imperial guard would need the room and that he completely understood. When he was told that a camp could be made a little down the road and that Sam himself as well as a couple of his entourage would be welcome inside the castle itself, he enquired as to how the guards could make themselves useful in the preparation for the coming festivities.

Emma, who has a list of things that she needs to do, followed by a list of things that need doing if that first list gets completed and then a third list of things that need doing, in general, should the first two lists exhaust themselves, was delighted.

So I watched from the walls of the third courtyard as the train of men and wagons, led by my brother, arrived at the foot of the castle to be met by the messenger and one of the castle guards who could guide the Kalayn soldiers to their places before Sam himself, as well as a couple of other horsemen, rode up to the castle.

In contrast to the other soldiers and things, the three men, led by Sam, were unarmoured and as far as I could see, only Sam had a sword on, but otherwise, he rode in his shirtsleeves.

I arrived at the front gate of the castle to line up next to Emma and Mother. Mark arrived as well, walking and standing in the line with the aid of his cane, alongside a couple of stout men in cassocks who were positioned to catch him should he lose his balance. I sidled up to the cardinal and looked at him sidelong.

“Should you be here?” I wondered. “You look as though you could drop at any moment.”

Watching Mark as he struggles through his illness is sometimes heartbreaking and I watched as my words hit his ears, and moved through his ears and into his brain. Then I watched as his brain tried to understand what I had been trying to say before it came to a conclusion. After that, it decided what it wanted to say before sending the message down to the mouth to get the words out.

This was a man that I used to argue and debate with on subjects of scripture and to see him like this broke my heart. Made worse by the fact that sometimes, he could still be that man of wisdom and intelligence. I can see him inside the increasing husk of a man that Mark was coming. I can see him struggling to get out.

He seemed to come forward into his face and for a moment, my brother was there.

“I thought it best to come out.” He said slowly, his words only slurring occasionally. “And that way, if he and your sister decide to murder each other at first sight, then I can be there to help you split them up.”

I chuckled, but as it turns out, we didn’t need to worry.

Sam strode up to the castle, having left his horse at the stable. He came with Rickard and the two of them were gossiping like old friends and like the old soldiers that both men were. Sam told me later that they were mostly exchanging names of soldiers on both sides of the divide that they had both met and knew from our time in the North, asking after the health of this person or that person and gossiping like old women. As he approached, Rickard and he clasped hands before Sam moved towards us and stopped in front of us all.

He stood, tall and proud although I rather thought he looked a bit tired. Not unsurprising given the long journey that he had made in this heat.

He stared at us for a while before a slow smile spread across his face.

“Should I kneel?” He asked feigning anxiety. “I feel like I should kneel.”

“Cheeky sod.” Emma laughed. Even she can’t resist Sam when my brother is making a charm offensive.

Sam laughed and I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders. Sam stepped forward and wrapped his arm around our sister and the two of them squeezed tightly.

“Believe it or not.” Sam began, “it is good to see you.”

“I’m not sure I believe it.” Emma began, only half in jest. “Your last few letters have been a little…”

“Rude?” Sam suggested. “Boorish. Arrogant and pushy?”

“I had harsher words but those will do.”

Sam laughed.

“You are possibly not unfair in your assessment.” He admitted. “And although you and I have a lot to talk about can I first suggest a truce when we see to our little brother’s matrimony?” He grinned again.

Emma pretended to consider. “I don’t know. I was looking forward to a good fight.”

“And secondly.” Sam went on. “I come bearing gifts. Our first harvests have gone well and I have several barrels of our finest apple wine as well as some of our apple brandy to help lubricate the festivities.”

“I thought that apple wine was essentially cider,” I commented.

“Apparently not.” Sam told me, “Although I was concerned about that as well. I also have a special bottle of the brandy for Kerrass that I had them brew several times to make it particularly potent. Just so that it can knock the old reprobate's socks off. Where is the old pirate?”

“Off sorting things out,” Emma said. “Thank you for the supplies, we can use them.”

“And I can use them to advertise the manufacturing around the place.” He told her smugly. “If the Empress has some of my wine, then people will want to know where she gets it before being determined to buy some, even if it tastes like vinegar.”

We all laughed at that.

“So?” He demanded of Emma, his face serious. “Truce?” He held his hand out to be shaken.

She pretended to consider it for a moment before she took the hand and shook it firmly.

“Truce.” She agreed.

I gave an ironic cheer as the two of them shook hands.

Next Sam moved on to Mother and the two of them looked at each other for a long time. I couldn’t see Sam’s face but Mother’s face seemed to be a little frightened about whatever it was going to be that she saw in the face of her son.

“Oh come here,” Sam said and pulled his Mother into an embrace which they held tightly for quite a while before they pulled apart.

“I suppose that we have a lot to talk about,” Sam said quietly.

“Yes,” She said, “Yes we do.” Then they hugged again.

Sam then hugged Mark

“Still alive old man?” Sam asked.

“Old?” Mark asked outraged. “I’ll have you know that I can still slap you around young man and now I have an extra stick to be able to do it with.”

Sam laughed and embraced his older brother before moving on to me.

“And now the man of the hour. He who, despite being the youngest and ugliest of all of us, will be the first to get married.”

“Hey,” Mark protested. “I married the church.”

“And I have Laurelen.” Emma added.

“Oh please.” Sam grinned at them. “That’s not what I mean and you both know it.”

“That’s true,” Emma admitted.

“He has us there.” Mark agreed.

I couldn’t comment though because Sam was hugging me and squeezing the air out of me before he pulled away.

“You’ve gotten fatter.” he declared, pulling away and prodding me in the stomach. “All this time off the road has given you a taste for the good life. The last time we met, I thought I might have some difficulty with you on the practice yard but now look at you. You’re practically a troll.”

“Ariadne claims that it will give her something to hang onto,” I told him. “Further to that, she also insists that lying on a heavily muscled, scrawny man would just be uncomfortable and that men need a little bit of padding to make them properly… cuddleable.”

Sam feigned surprise. “So that’s where I’m going wrong. I’m just too handsome.”

We all jeered at him.

He led us all inside with a laugh and a joke and a shadow that had crept over my heart seemed to lift.

-

Entry 128

After that first time at the door, Sam and I didn’t get time to talk. First, he was in with Emma talking about various things. I have no idea what they were talking about and if I’m honest, I care even less. Trade tariffs and crop yields and other such things that I do not have the head for and that I am putting off having to worry about them until Ariadne and I actually settle in Angral.

Not that I will need to worry about them then. Ariadne has people to worry about that kind of thing for her that are far more skilled with that kind of thing than we are, and the rest of it is the kind of thing that she is fascinated by. And as a result, she knows it all and quickly deals with it all so that I can concentrate on my other work.

After he was done with Emma, he moved on to Mark and like me, He took Mother into town for dinner and a long conversation away from the trappings of family and all of the authority, perceived or otherwise, that comes with a conversation with our mother in the castle that she used to rule over.

So it was actually a couple of days later when I was sitting, reading a book with my back to a tree just outside of the castle gates that he came to find me.

“So. Now that I’ve dealt with all of the boring stuff,” He began. “How are you doing with it all?”

He dropped a bottle into my lap as he spoke before settling opposite me, crossing his legs. I smiled at him as I picked up the bottle and opened it.

“Doing with all of what?”

He shrugged.

“I know we’ve written and everything but there is something that is missed in a letter that we don’t get from being able to get drunk with each other and properly thrashing it out. How are you doing?”

“With what?”

He grinned and took the bottle out of my hands.

“With everything. Pending matrimony for a start. You still terrified of the lady?”

“Fuck yes,” I admitted. “Fucking fuck yes. I am still terrified of her. I…” I took the bottle back. “Yes, she scares me and if I think about it too deeply, all of that fear that I used to have for her when we first started to orbit each other is still there. Even despite everything that I have been through and everything that she has been through and everything that we have been through together. I am still afraid and I am scared that in loving her, I am making a mistake. A soul ending, eternal snows of hell levels of mistake.”

He nodded as he considered this and passed me the bottle back.

“Pre-wedding jitters?” He wondered and I laughed at him, spluttering into the drink.

“Almost certainly,” I admitted. “I mean, we talk every night, she has visited when she can and when I see her, when I interact with her, talk with her or spend time with her in even the vaguest sense of the word, then it all goes away.”

He nodded.

“So there’s the question isn’t it.” He told us, “Remember when I asked Old Froggart about how he knew that his wife was the one for him?”

“I remember. You were trying to get him started on a rant so that we didn’t have to do as much work.”

He laughed.

“But it was true. He said that if you can’t imagine leaving the woman, and that if she left you it would end your world. Then she was the one for you. So if she left you tomorrow, would it destroy you?”

“It would.” I told him.”

“Curses.” He swore melodramatically. “That means that I can’t have a go myself.”

We both laughed.

“But seriously though.” He said. “What does your heart tell you.”

I sighed. I knew the answer to this as well.

“My heart says that I should stop worrying about it and jump in with both feet. I love that woman Sam. Since I met her for the first time, there have been other women, not many but there have been some. Beautiful women, loving, passionate…”

“Hey, steady.” He shuddered theatrically. “There are some things that a big brother isn’t supposed to know.”

“But none of them have intrigued me or excited me as much as Ariadne has. And I don’t mean excitement as a filthy thing.”

“Or not just that anyway.” He said.”

“Well, not entirely that.”

He nodded.

“So there it is.” He said, “Marry the wench and then help Emma and I work together to run the family.”

“How firm is the truce?” I wondered.

He took a deep breath.

“Early days.” He admitted. “Very early days. But the fact that I turned up with a whole bunch of stuff that my people and I dragged from our own soil and hard work that she had nothing to do with and that she had not seen to be there, counted for quite a lot in my favour.”

“It would.”

“She instantly had half a dozen new ideas for how we could work the whole thing. How we could get my apple wine and all of its wonderful variants into the various markets. Toussaint has grape-led wine all but sewn up but apple-based wine?”

“I still don’t understand how apple wine isn’t just cider.”

He laughed at me. “It’s in the process apparently, and you wait until you’ve tried it. No cider passes down the throat of a man quite as smoothly as this stuff does. You are going to be amazed.”

“In which case, I will look forward to it. But you haven’t answered my question.”

“As I say, it’s early days.” He sighed. “I don’t know what the difference is between you and me.”

“You mean apart from everything.”

He gave me a look, it was the same look that he always gave me when he was pointing out that I was being an asshole and that he could very easily pound me.

“Like that.” I pointed at him and he laughed again. It was good to hear him laugh.

“Yes, alright, I suppose that there’s the small matter about the differences in intelligence, strength, speed and all of that.”

“You were never stupid Sam,” I told him. “I’ve learnt many things during my time on the road but one thing I do know is that lack of education does not mean lack of intelligence. And even if someone has access to education, not everyone is suited to academia. Very very clever people can’t be academics and not all clever people can take to the study of… whatever.”

He took a breath and I saw a ghost of old anger cross his face followed by something that could only be surprise and gratitude.

“Thanks, Freddie, I… It’s just, after years of being told that you are stupid it is sometimes difficult to not believe that you know?”

“I do know Sam. I do know that.”

I was thinking of Father yelling at me from the head of the dining table about how I was selfish and foolish and about how I would never amount to anything. Asking me why I couldn’t be more like my brother. I would always reply “I’m trying” and he would always respond “Not trying hard enough”. The same conversation was played out from the opposite ends of the sentiment with Sam and for a moment, even though Sam and I look nothing alike, I saw those thoughts and memories reflected in his face.

“But anyway.” he physically shook himself free of the thinking. “But anyway, I’ve always wondered what the difference was between you and me. You have always had Emma’s love and respect whereas with me?” He shook his head. “She’s always seemed a little bit distant. Always seemed a little bit…”

He moved his hand around in the air as he reached for inspiration.

“You had very little in common,” I told him. “And also, if I may say some things that you might not enjoy hearing?”

He slapped his thigh and squared his shoulders a little bit. “Lay it on me, Freddie.”

“But when you were growing up, you would repeat all of the lewd things that the other guards would say, the jokes and things that they would tell about the other serving women and the like?”

Sam considered that. “But I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You don’t have to mean something to hurt someone by it.”

Sam accepted that with a nod.

“But when it all comes down to it,” I told him. “She is older than you. She also heard all of Father’s diatribes against all of us. And like we believed, and sometimes still believe, what he told us, she also believed what he said. So she sometimes, even when she doesn’t mean it, she sees you for the stupid and ignorant meathead that you always were and that Father always declared you to be.”

“Whereas with you, she always saw you as the weak little boy, that would never amount to anything.”

I nodded, the echo of Father’s words in Sam’s voice caused a bit of a scratching at the back of my mind.

“And how, even now, she still tries to protect me from the world and feels as though she has failed me when I get hurt. You didn’t see how furious she was with me for getting sick back in Angral that time that I tried to break it off with Ariadne. She was actively angry with herself for allowing me to be hurt and then she was shocked at just how badly I was hurt.

“And she still hates it, I mean really hates it, when I am right and she is wrong. Remember in the North, I had to point out her racism against the elves. She hated that, not least because I am her little brother and she’s supposed to be smarter than me because she was the one that helped me to get book smart over and above what Father was saying.

“The other thing was that we had more in common, Emma could see that some of what Father said about me was false, and she sought to correct that. But with you, she saw you being surrounded by other men and thought that you didn’t need it. And being her, she saw the same things that Father did and believed them.”

Sam considered this.

“So not only does she see me as the little brother that needs protecting, but she is also convinced that she’s more intelligent than I am and knows more than I do.”

I looked at Sam and tried to phrase what I had to say next, carefully.

“And Sam, I love you, but in the majority of cases, she is right.”

He looked at me flatly and I pushed on.

“Whatever else can be said about Father and Mother, their children are all, really clever in our way. Mark would not have climbed as high in the church if he didn’t have something going for him in the intelligence department. Emma has surpassed everything that Father managed to do on the mercantile end of the scale. She is so good at that now that in the few years that she’s had… not even that, it’s only been two years. In the two years that she’s had complete control over the Coulthard trading company, she has grown our mercantile influence to the point that… well… it actively frightens people. She would not be able to do that if she was stupid.

“You are a Lord, a Count, and although I disagreed with your handling of the situation, you led your fledgling garrison to victory over a cult and helped oversee the destruction of the cult of the firstborn. You have led men in the military, been promoted and fought in tournaments and although I am not as martial as you are or as martial as many people are, that takes intelligence. I know enough to say that with certainty.

“And Francesca… When the Empress gets here, you should get her to tell you stories about how well Francesca worked inside the Imperial court.”

“You missed out yourself.” He smirked a little as he said it.

“I’m not blowing my bugle,” I told him. “My point is. We are all clever people. But what Emma has over you, is that she knows more about trade and more about politics and heraldry and the interconnections of everything than you do. She has to because that’s how trade works. Without trade, everything else is pointless and the entirety of the continent would devolve back to us all ruling over petty fiefdoms with monsters knocking at the door. Let alone no Empire, there would be no Kingdoms, no nations, I wouldn’t be a scholar, you would probably be calling yourself a King, but over a much smaller amount of land and Ariadne’s first plan of retaking up her old throne would actively have been better for that part of the world.

“Emma is smarter than you in that arena and she does know more than you. You cannot do this without her.”

He grunted and looked down at the ground, playing with a bit of grass that he found in front of himself.

“The upside,” I told him. “Is that she cannot do this without you. No matter what else might be said of the world, we are still a male-led one despite the women beginning to step forward into rulership. Because her concerns are so large, she sometimes doesn’t see the trees in the forest. She loses sight of the little things and the little people that make up the vast machine that is the Coulthard trading company. She has people who try and advise her on that, but they are nearly all people that work for her and depend on her for their pay. But you can stand up to her on that. You have to. Also, you know one thing that she has absolutely no skill or knowledge about.”

As I expected, he looked up excited. I hate using these courtly manipulative tricks on friends and the people that I love. But sometimes, it works and it needs to be done.

“You know how to fight,” I told him. “AND, you’ve just proven that you can learn that which she knows. I don’t know, but I suspect that she’s delighted with what you’ve produced and is looking forward to working with you to make things even more impressive. You can tell her about armed forces and who knows what, applying a layer of military thinking over what she is doing politically.”

I took a deep breath. I could not tell what he was thinking. Whether he was pleased, or excited by the image that I was projecting.

“Whatever happens next,” I said. “Mark is not long for this world. I mean, the more you hang around with him, the more you can see that he is fading. Sometimes visibly. The Doctors declare that he’s got a whole lot of illness in front of him yet. But it won’t be long before you will be making the decisions as Lord Coulthard as Mark will simply be unable to hold a quill to sign his name. After he goes…”

I winced at the thought.

“After Mark dies, it’s going to be the three of us and all three of us are taking on roles that we never thought we would. And there are going to be crows circling us to pick apart the corpse of the Coulthard family. Men will come after us in court arguing that a woman should not have that much power over the trade networks of the Empire. The old argument about the Kalayns being heretics will come up again as your neighbours, new and old, will try and take your land off you and men will come after me because I’m married to a monster.

“We have advantages as well, but if our enemies can drive wedges in between the three of us, then we are doomed. I truly believe that. We need each other.”

I ran out of words and the two of us sat there in the silence that followed. I imagined that I could hear myself sweating.

“Hang on though.” Sam began. “You said that we were all clever. Edmund was pretty stupid.”

I laughed as Sam grinned.

“Edmund was unsurpassed in one area,” I replied. “He was good at finding excuses and getting creative with ways to slake his own desires and otherwise avoiding work. I think it takes real intelligence to be that much of a…”

“Monster?” Sam wondered.

I said nothing.

“You’re right though.” He admitted. “And it’s something that I knew when I came down here. I need you on my side, Freddie. There are going to be times when Emma and I are going to be sitting there screaming at each other about things. That’s what you’ve always been good at. More than most even. You make friends easily. That’s something that I’ve noticed from your diaries which I always read with interest, even when they paint me in a less than ideal light. You make friends wherever you go. Including people that should not be your friend and have every reason to hate you You turn those people into friends. I wish I had that skill.”

“I will endeavour to serve, Lord Coulthard,” I told him, giving a little bow from the waist.

He laughed and toasted me with the bottle.

“So you should. But first, you are going to be married.”

“I am.”

“Promise me something.” He told me.

“Of course.”

“Enjoy it. Don’t be tied up with what is to come, the politics or this or that or the other thing. I know you, Freddie. Another talent is that you can see the grey edge in a silver cloud better than anyone I know. You are surrounded by your family now. Your friends are on their way if they’re not here already and the next few weeks are going to be the best of your life. Enjoy them. Don’t look for the problems.”

I laughed at him.

“I will do my best,” I told him.