(A/N: Some brief description of historical child abuse and sexual violence)

Our family's chapel is situated at the end of another long corridor. It's actually in a completely separate wing of the castle from everything else as I understand that father was extremely taken aback by the request from my mother that he have a chapel built inside his grounds. All the outside buildings and space were taken up by existing needs and plans so that when we moved in, everyone was already moving to their allotted areas when I understand that Mother turned to father rather abruptly on maybe their second day of residence.

She said something like...

“But where's the chapel going to go?”

Witnesses claim that father was utterly taken aback by the question. The historian in me notes that no specific person knows what was said, or actually witnessed the discussion but everyone knows that it happened in the same way that everyone knows that fire is hot.

I was maybe four or five at the time that this conversation was taking place so I, of course, remember nothing of it. What I do remember is the flurry of extra activity that went into the building of the new wing of the castle. Father was determined that we should be... well considered in the local area, that we should be social climbers and pursue an agenda that results in our climb to the top of the ladder so, as well as the chapel, there were several more guest rooms built as well as a number of studies and school rooms for the use of churchmen whenever they visited which, given the reportedly obscene amounts of money that father donated, was regularly.

As an aside I should mention that it's one of these rooms that brother Mark uses as his study.

But one of the other things that I should say is that, despite the fact that it was clearly an afterthought on the part of my father and although the other rooms in that wing of the castle are rather perfunctory, some of which have only rarely been used, the chapel itself is rather beautiful.

It's a corner room on the highest floor of the castle on the side that would be least accessible and therefore the least likely to be assaulted in the event of an actual siege. There are several small stained glass windows and it is blissfully quiet there being so far away from the rest of the castle's bustling activity although it can get cold in the winter there is an overall feeling of warmth and coziness about it. The ceiling is clad in wood, carved into many intricate patterns so that if you look up you can follow them with your eyes and spend time looking at the patterns and counting the points if that's the kind of thing that you want. There are six, simple wooden pews on either side of a central aisle, each pew could comfortably seat three people if you want plenty of room, or four people if you squeeze together. They are cushioned with surprisingly comfortable padding which have been embroidered and patterned with the stories of great holy people from over the years including the prophet Lebioda and others.

At the front of the chapel there is a prayer rail with more cushions that at various times have been the pride and joys of Mother's, Emma's and other women's industry. Behind the rail there is a prayer rest and chair for an attending priest as well as an assistant. The Alter is a simple wooden block made from a tree that had been uprooted from within the castle grounds where my father had wanted to build some of his barracks. The wood then being used for various purposes round the castle but it is perhaps most fitting that it had been used here. Craftsmen had worked on that alter, carving holy words and symbols into it and I'm told that it is a true work of art.

Not that I've ever seen it. The alter is then covered with a plain white cloth and a golden trim. On the top of the cloth in the very centre of the table there is a fire bowl filled with oil which is refilled on a daily basis by my mother, by Mark if he's around or if neither are present then a servant does it. The bowl is always alight.

The warmth of the flame along with the sound and smell of the burning fuel are what lends a sense of peace to the place. More than once I have slept on one of the pews, just listening to the sound of the fire and being hypnotised by it's movement.

The chapel feels like a refuge from the rest of the world. As though it's it's own little bubble of contained peace, separate from everything else. I used to spend a lot of time here when I was living at the castle as I could take my books here and perch in a corner to read or make notes on my learning and it was rare indeed that I would be disturbed.

My religion is important to me in a small way. Kerrass is correct in that I try to pray every night and leave offerings and prayers for the souls of those men who I have killed. Who I have murdered, no matter the justification. I find I have had to make a conscious separation in my mind about my religion. My faith in the Eternal flame and my ideas about it being a guiding light rather than a scourge, of offering warmth and comfort rather than cleansing fire has never changed from the gentle teachings that I received at the hands of good and kind men and women from a young age. I keep those thoughts close to me and they have been no small comfort to me during those long vigils on the road waiting for whatever darkness might crawl out from beneath the earth to be slain by the hands of a waiting Witcher.

But I have had to separate those opinions from my feelings towards The Church.

The Church worries me. More recently, the history books will show that the systematic destruction of magic users as well as the persecution of non-humans was largely politically motivated prejudice. Churchmen in the greater hierarchies of the church wanting the change of beneficial progress to come quickly and resenting the positions of power that the Council of mages and more recently the Lodge of Sorceresses have had over the Northern Kings. So they used the madness of King Radovid as well as fear of Nilfgaard as an excuse to pursue their own goals.

I will admit to dismay that so many, otherwise good and devout men and women have fallen into the trap of practising religious hatred of others and encouraging those feelings in the rest of the populace. It was not an exaggeration the thing that I said to Mark about the most monstrous acts that I had ever seen had been committed by humans rather than so called “monsters”.

I had talked with Mark about this in the time after our arrest of the cult of Crom Cruarch and to my brothers credit he agreed with me. Talking about his earlier demonstration regarding the web of life I had asked why the recent activities of the church had been so violent when, by his own demonstration, such actions were catastrophic to people's lives.

Mark told me that I was correct. That the church was divided into two halves of thought. The first being that the activity did indeed need to be slow, gentle and careful. That we needed to take our time and gently guide and help people towards that light. Towards that flame.

The other school of thought was the more doom-saying school of thought. That the eternal frost was getting closer and that the only way of stopping it was for us all to worship the flame as soon as possible. That there was no time to waste and that people should be saved despite themselves.

My brother favours the first school of thought whereas the previous Hierophant went the other way with the support of King Radovid.

But that separation in my head still exists although I am grateful that my brother was supportive and understanding of my...crisis of faith.

But even despite all of that. The family chapel has a special place in my heart. I had visited it when I had gotten home.

(I left that bit out when I was writing about it because it didn't seem important)

I had prayed there for Father's health and lack of pain. I had read and wept and laughed and talked there

many many times. It was a communal room and it was important to all of us. My family was in those walls and in those chairs and kneeling at those prayer rests.

I loved and still love that room and more so than the castle, it is that room that I look forward to visiting whenever I go home. In reality it is that thing that is home to me.

But this time I didn't want to go there.

Kerrass and I arrived back at the family castle having taken our gentle time to travel back. We had spent the previous night at my lodgings in Oxenfurt.

The order of events was that we hadn't really slept more than a couple of quick, stolen hours the night that we had brought so many heretics to justice. We had to give statements and answer questions about it all many many times, both to the Watch and to the Church investigators. Cousin Raynard had been right in that there were lots of people there that were DEMANDING that their darling children, or more accurately, their client's darling children be released IMMEDIATELY so everyone involved wanted the whole thing to be done properly and without any mistakes being made. My own interrogation was carried out by the High Sheriff of Redania who had been in Novigrad on some business of state, but had ridden south when he heard what had happened.

I was very good, I didn't criticise his subordinates even once.

He took my statement and I answered his questions in as much as detail as I could. He brought in a minor wizard who I allowed to ensorcle me to tell the entire truth and I understand that the answers that I gave were sufficiently close to the ones that I had given earlier.

Kerrass had a bit more difficulty in convincing everyone that he was telling the truth as he was immune to those spells so instead they asked the same questions over and over and over again until, in his words, they got bored of listening to the same words all the time and let him go.

Much to his amusement although I'm told that this situation was not uncommon.

Afterwards we were both rather in demand from people demanding to know what was going on. Sir Rickard managed to smuggle Emma and Laurelen out of the city to avoid criticism from the numerous families who would seek to discredit the investigation, although I should mention that this was done so with the High Sheriff's permission. The High Sheriff is a good man trying to maintain order in a realm that doesn't have a King or even a client head of state yet so is finding that he has to make far reaching decisions himself that he would normally have deferred to the King. He was living in Novigrad so that he could still work in Redania while sending daily reports as well as daily requests for governance and guidance for the North. I promised him that if he needed any help from the Coulthard family then we would happily render such aid as we were able.

Looking back I am lucky that he took the offer with the correct intentions rather than a comment about how his life would be much easier if I had just minded my own business.

I spent some time wandering about Oxenfurt so that people could direct their anger at me rather than anyone else. Fortunately in Oxenfurt that anger tends to be of the Eggs and Tomato kind rather than being dragged into an alley and being murdered. I kept telling people that it was in the hands of the church and that they should stop pestering me. Even then I was eventually driven to seek refuge in the University where a set of very grim faced guards kept every one out until the crowds dispersed.

That evening I drank myself insensible in the office of my tutor who was full of sympathy (despite wanting a considerable account of the events for posterity) and have no memory of making it back to my own bed.

Kerrass was sleeping on my couch, we had a large breakfast and made our way back to the castle at a leisurely pace while we discussed what to do next.

I think we were maybe a third of the way home when Kerrass groaned. He actually had to get off his horse and pace around a bit to walk it off but even despite the massive thought that had clearly just hit him, I still needed to force him to tell me what it was.

We rode the rest of the way back to the castle in silence.

Shani once told me that there is a mood or a state of being, called disassociation which is when you feel almost distant from the events and circumstances around you. It's like you are controlling your own body through an elaborate system of levers and puppet strings. It doesn't really feel like yourself doing and saying these things. It's like watching the events from the corner of the room like watching a play or as if the events were happening to someone else.

We rode up to the castle and through the gate. I acknowledged the salute of the guardsmen that was standing on duty before slowly walking my horse up to the stable. I proceeded to take proper care of my horse, brushing, feeding, watering and a good rubbing down. She had been with me a long time now and I suddenly felt as though she deserved the proper attention of a companion rather than just a thing. Possibly sensing something of my mood she nuzzled me a bit in the way that horses do when they're hunting for an apple or lump of sugar.

I left reluctantly.

Kerrass had already finished caring for his own horse and was leaning against a fence post while he waited. I knew he was worried but at that point there was nothing really that he could say or do to make me feel any better.

We walked up to the keep.

The courtyard was deathly silent, black flags and bunting were everywhere and those servants that we did see were also dressed in black. At first I was surprised at the lack of colour and noise but then I realised what had happened. I had forgotten that my Father and Edmund were going to be interred tomorrow. I looked around at those places where I was used to seeing noise and colour for a moment before Kerrass put his hand on my shoulder. At some point I had stopped walking so I started to move again.

Father and Edmund. My thoughts had told me “Father and Edmund” rather than “Father and Brother”. I would need to think about that.

Emma greeted us in the entrance way with a sad smile but her cheer faltered when she saw us. Kerrass reacted first and moved forward, taking her gently by the elbow he steered her away. They talked quickly and quietly for a moment before she put her head in her hands.

I ignored them and went up the stairs to my room where I asked one of the servants to run me a bath.

For a moment I looked for a piece of paper and a quill to note down a thought. I thought that the noble world was divided into two camps, the first was those people who ordered their servants to fill a bath and the second was those people who asked their servants to fill a bath. I wondered what made a person fall into one camp or the other.

I bathed thoroughly. So thoroughly that by the time I was done, my fingers had shrivelled but I felt the need for it. I felt so tired and dirty as a result of the events of the last few days. It was a bone deep weariness that went beyond physical or mental tiredness. Physical fatigue can be cured by eating, or sleeping. Mental fatigue can be cured by spending some time with friends or taking a break and thinking about something else. This was a soul-deep fatigue. I wanted to crawl away into a warm, dark hole and scream until my throat bled and oblivion came for me.

I dressed. You needed to dress properly for these kinds of things. I didn't want to look rumpled or scruffy. I took care with my clothing making sure that each piece of clothing settled right on my frame and that it looked... correct. Some enterprising soul had put my mourning garb onto a stand in the corner. For a moment I considered wearing that instead but no. That would send the wrong message.

That was tomorrows problem.

I spent a long time looking at my weapons stacked against the wall next to the head of the bed.

When I had first been given the spear it had been uncomfortable and ungainly in my hand. I was awkward with it and it had taken many long hours of practice and training drills with Kerrass before I could even be considered “OK” with it. Truth be told, I still considered myself to be far from “good” with the weapon. Most of those people that I had fought and beaten had underestimated me, giving me an advantage that I could use. Others had been surprised by the fact that I knew how to use it or simply didn't know how to fight a man with a spear. But that spear had become as close a companion to me as my horse, or Kerrass.

The dagger was newer. Short, thin and designed for up close use, sitting across my belly at an angle designed for easy use by my right hand. I was still at the stage with it that I still noticed the weight of it when it was on my belt but at the same time, in some way I had compensated for it, and missed it when it wasn't there.

I left them where they were.

Something struck me as I turned to leave and I stood at the doorway with new eyes. There was something different here, more than just the changes in furnishings (I had needed a bigger bed) and I didn't know what it was. It took me a while to figure out in all truthfulness but the simple fact was that this was no longer my room. It was a truth about the entire castle really.

It is a strange thing when you realise that the place where you grew up is no longer your home.

I left the room and walked slowly towards the chapel.

It felt oddly like saying goodbye.

The halls and landings of the castle are filled with paintings, tapestries and other ornaments that Father had seen in other castles that he wanted to emulate. My favourite picture in just about the entire castle is on the landing just as you go up the stairs. It's just on the left before you go down the second corridor.

What the picture shows is a landscape of a vast marsh at twilight. In the distance you can just about pick out a large mountain range but all they really are are shadows against the sky as the sun sets behind them. In the foreground there is an island in the marsh made where a few trees have grown up on a small hillock. One tree has fallen over creating a small barrier against the elements. A man has made camp. His horse is tied to a stake in the ground with it's saddle and things next to it and a blanket over it's back where it's eating from some of the tufts of grass around the place. The man himself has already laid out his bedroll and is staring into the fire, poking it with a stick. The important detail that catches a young man's imagination is that the man has long white hair. When I was younger I had always wondered if this person might be the famed Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf himself.

Nowadays I know better of course. There is no way that a Witcher would camp in such a spot unless at the absolute end of desperation. There are likely to be all kinds of monsters in such a swamp, drowners, the drowned dead and large insects. Kerrass would have spat out his incredulity at such an amateurish mistake.

How the illusions of childhood are shattered.

I walked on down the long corridor towards the chapel.

I didn't bother knocking and just opened the doors.

There are rituals that you have to obey though.

After I had closed the door I bowed deeply towards the flame on the alter before walking down the aisle to the prayer rail and bowed again.

The little rituals are important. There is comfort to be found in performing them.

I knelt, slightly to the left of the centre line of the chapel, and I started to pray. My hands clasped together in the oldest ways of prayer and with closed eyes I began the first prayer of the prophet Lebioda.

Old rituals to soothe the heart and soul.

After a long time that I wished might have been longer I opened my eyes and looked up at the flame that danced before me.

“We know almost everything.” I said as clearly and distinctly as I could. “We know that Edmund was angry and upset at the pressure that Father had placed upon his shoulders, regardless of whether he was right to think that or not. We know he wanted to enjoy himself and fled home to sample the worlds pleasures where he fell in with “The Wrong Crowd” although that term doesn't seem to do the lot of them justice.

“He joined a cult. The cult of what is described as “The crooked man” although Mark tells me that they have just put one of many faces onto a different entity that is much more terrifying than “The man on the mound” who is, in reality, one of the older pagan gods who were worshipped to give people comfort when the crops failed.

“That cult was lead by Cousin Raynard of all people.

“I wish I knew that I had a cousin, not that I know that I would have done anything different but it would have been nice to have known that he existed at the very least.”

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. My vision was flickering in the way it does at the edges of extreme fatigue. I so desperately wanted to run away and hide somewhere but these things needed to be seen through. I so wished, right then and there, that I had been somewhere extremely remote when the messages had been sent out so that I wouldn't have had to deal with all of this. But I wasn't and I did.

“We know that the cult made a hobby, as part of their worship, of kidnapping and brutally torturing young people in rites that include, but are not limited to beatings, whippings, rape, mutilation, cannibalism and living cannibalism although the fact that I have to make a distinction between two different kinds of cannibalism is frankly disgusting, and degrading. We don't know what kind of actual effect these rites had but estimates range from the considerable to the “hardly any changes at all”.

“We know that father found out about this. We know that he found several victims and was researching others. We fount out that he had made provisions for the families of some of the victims in an effort to make restitution. We also know that he told Edmund to stop.

“Edmund did not.

“Instead Edmund panicked and ran back to his friends and Cousin Raynard. During a drunken evening involving wine women and generally awful depravity, Edmund decided that Father needed to die. During that evening a plan was concocted to make this happen. Arguments differ as to who actually started the entire thing with cousin Raynard blaming Edmund but I feel, as does Mark, that Edmund was simply not intelligent enough to come up with such in intricate plan let alone having the nerve or the knowledge to implement it.

“That point is likely to go with Cousin Raynard to his grave as we can't find anyone else who was at that meeting.”

I sighed.

“Edmund engineered the accident and administered the poison to convince everyone that Father had died from complications arising from his accident. Unfortunately, Fathers chief groom and stable-master realised that Fathers riding equipment had been tampered with and brought the problem to Edmund's attention. During that conversation the groom realised who the culprit was and ran for it taking his wife with him. They were caught and killed a few hours away from the castle.

“Putting it together we think that you also knew about all of these things. Or figured them out somehow and that finally, after all these years you decided that enough was enough. You obtained a knife from the kitchen under the pretence of needing it for some sewing task which is well within your capabilities. You had a mannequin from the tailor to practice your strike a few times which you then hid somewhere.

“Then, when Edmund was gloating over the business empire and the amount of money that he was about to inherit, you walked into the study and killed him with a short, sharp and strong thrust to his neck before you left so that he could bleed to death.

“My guess is that you are astonished that you haven't been caught yet. I bet you even walked through the castle with the knife in your hand on the way to that study. But in the end you wiped the knife clean on Edmund's clothes, secreted it about yourself and left. You had the keys to the entire place and so... no-one would even think that anything was out of the ordinary.”

I shifted my weight a little as my knees had gone numb.

“But,” I went on.

“What I don't know is why you encouraged us to investigate. Without your input, Mark would have run Kerrass and I off. I've no doubt that he would have cooled off eventually in the event of Father's death but without your speaking up to encourage us to investigate, you would have gotten away with it. So why did you speak up?”

There was a long pause, the only sound being the guttering of the lamp flame.

My mother looked up from where she had been kneeling in prayer, just a little further down the rail. It was the first time that she had moved since I entered the chapel. She stood, slowly, and smoothed out her plain dress and made the sign of the flame before sitting down on the nearest pew.

“The answer is not complicated.” she said after correcting a few creases and wrinkles in her dress. “It wasn't that I wanted to be caught, nor is it because I thought that you wouldn't figure it all out.”

“In truth, the reason that we did figure it out in the end was because it could be no-one else.” I found myself smiling. Not good. I needed to be cold and hard.

“Be that as it may.” She said carefully. “I once made a promise to your father. That neither you , nor anyone else, within this family or outside, would ever know about my families secret history. I could not tell you all what had happened without that coming to light. Also, you and Mark were about to murder each other. I was confident in your good natures that you would have gone away to calm down and that he would forgive you but I find that such things are easier to forgive than forget. I was concerned that a rift in the family at this stage would be...irreparable.

“But also, I don't know why. Both of those reasons are correct as well as some others. I must think on them.”

I waited a while but it seemed that there wasn't going to be anything else said.

“Very well,” I said, standing up. I stood straight and forced myself to look her in the eye. “Madam. It is my duty to inform you that you are being placed under arrest for the crime of murdering your own son. This power has been given to me by the High Sheriff of the client Kingdom of Redania who has instructed myself to try the matter as I see fit. As there is a connection to the possibility of Heresy according to the teachings of the Mother Church, permission was also sought from the ranking church official present and permission has been given.”

I took a deep breath. I held my mothers gaze as hard as I could although I desperately wanted to look away. I have held the gaze of Lords and ladies, monsters and non-humans, creatures of darkness and an elder vampire but, up until that point. This was the hardest to do.

“You will be taken from this place to somewhere where you will be able to give an account of yourself to the ranking church official and ranking feudal lords where a decision will be made regarding your future. When I leave this room, two guards will enter the room who will escort you to this place with every courtesy unless you resist or try to escape. You will be given as much time as you wish to make your peace but those men are under orders to prevent you from harming yourself by any method, including starvation or deprivation.”

I took another breath. I thought through all of the things that needed to be said and couldn't think of anything else.

“Do you understand what I have just said?”

“I do,”

I nodded and marched to the door.

“Frederick.”

“Madam?” I turned to look at her. She had stood again.

“I am very proud of you.”

I couldn't speak. I nodded sharply and fled.

I took a few minutes to splash some water on my face before joining everyone else downstairs. My stomach was churning with acid.

Mark had done me proud. Despite having, by now, been told what Kerrass and I had figured out and therefore being told that he would have to sit in judgement over our own mother. He had done nothing to make the situation formal. I had been terrified that I would go back downstairs to discover that our main hall would have been transformed into some kind of inquisitorial docks with a rack and torture implements being laid out.

Instead Sam, Emma and he were sat in comfortable chairs taking their ease as much as possible. Kerrass was sat in the corner, watching everything without moving in the way that he does when he doesn't want to be noticed.

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Sam was pacing quietly next to the fireplace. Emma was sat, trying to read a book and Mark was sat on the couch. I joined Mark and he squeezed my shoulder as I sat down.

As it turned out we didn't have to wait for long.

Mark stood as Mother was escorted into the room by the two church guards. They waited at the door but Mark waved them off with a wave and a nod.

Mother came and stood before us all as Sam pulled out another chair.

“Here I am,” Mother said.

“Would you like to sit down?” Mark asked carefully.

Mothers eyebrows rose. “No thank you.”

“So,” Mark sat back down. “Do you deny the charge of murder?”

“No,”

Mark nodded.

“Then this is your opportunity to explain. I cannot say that it will mitigate your sentence. Oh, I should say that as this is a feudal court as well as a church one, Emma, Samuel and Frederick will be acting as advisor's regarding this as the feudal position is still pending. If you wish, this can be put off until feudal responsibilities are...set down. We are aware that this means that you have a familial relationship with your judges.”

Sam snorted in what I assumed was bitter amusement.

Mother seemed to consider things. “No,” she said after a while. “Better to get it done although I would ask to witness my late husbands internment before whatever sentence is carried out, whatever that sentence may be.”

“That will be taken into consideration.” said Mark. “Then do you have anything to say. I should say that the church, at least, requires an explanation for your actions.” He put a certain hint of steel into his voice there.

For a moment I pitied those potential heretics in Tretogor.

It took a long time for my mother to start speaking but when she started, it was almost impossible to stop.

“There isn't really that much to say.” She said after a while. “I haven't told anyone about my past, at least I don't think I have, certainly not in one go. Your father knew, he'd pieced it together from the various bits and pieces of gossip that he'd managed to pick up and put together in his brain.

“Flame but I loved your father.

“I was inducted into the family religion by my father who was rather forced into it by my Grandfather. Grandfather was one of those dyed in the wool kind of heretics that like to tell people that things were much better back in their day. Looking back I kind of think that it was treated a bit like an old man's club where they got together for a bit of idle child abuse and raping to keep the young folk servile and knowing their proper place.”

It has been said that I get the dryness in my sense of humour from my mother.

“Anyway, I was finally inducted by my Father who raped me at Grandfathers insistence for my eleventh birthday. I remember it being really strange that I got up, was bathed, got given gifts and a pretty dress before being raped. Then my big brother was given a turn which he was unable to finish. He was only a year older than me and as such he was still struggling to see girls as being anything other than icky.

“Then the religion, the cult I should say, fell into the back ground. It was simply there, in the same way that many people treat the church of the holy flame. My brother and I would do our studies, be presented at court and things but then on certain days or other “holy” days, we would be stripped, beaten, degraded and raped by sinister old men in robes.

“Another sad truth is that I don't remember much about it. There are reasons for this. I was often amazingly tired and so used to it that it kind of became normal after a while. They also drugged us until we were high enough that we would be properly...attentive and behave properly. Grandfather used to complain about that kind of thing saying things like “We didn't drug them back in my day. They struggled and we had to hold them.”

“It went on and on until eventually it had to stop so that I could attract a husband. I had tried to kill myself, I think twice on the whole. The first time I took a razor blade to myself although I had no idea how to do it so you can only see the scars if you know what you're looking for. The second time I tried to overdose on some kind of herb that someone told me could kill me but instead of killing me it just made me vomit it all back up again. But all the hell that I had been through up until that point was absolutely nothing compared to the hell of drug withdrawal.

“Eventually I sweated, swore and bled my way to sobriety enough to be properly able to receive guests and one of those guests was your father.

“My family had fallen on hard times, largely due to the fact that Grandfather was an elitist imbecile who refused to deal with anyone that he saw as being of lower station than himself and insisted on living to a certain standard which our lands could no longer support. My father had caught some of this illness and by the time my brother inherited the family was in truly dire straights financially. As a result of this my dowry was less than impressive. With Grandfathers death, the families religion started to wane and Father would go to fewer and fewer meetings. It turned into that which I had always thought it was which is an old man's club for old men where members would sit around, drinking and taking drugs while complaining about how commoners didn't know their place any more.

“I should say that my brother is a lapsed heretic in the same way that you get lapsed followers of the eternal flame. They go to church when they've got nothing better to do at the time and pay lip service to it.

“But, your father came a calling. He was well aware of our lack of funds but he wanted the “noble” name to add credence to his growing power base and popularity. I didn't care. He was my knight in shining armour and swept me off my feet. I was besotted with the man and I loved him fiercely giving him everything that he could possibly want including two sons and a daughter.

“Proving that there's no fanatic like a convert I was baptised into the church of the holy flame, I made my confession and was given the penance of bringing up one of my sons to serve the church. I thought that it was fairly lenient but my confessor pointed out that I had been forced to become a heretic and therefore it wasn't my fault.

“All in all he was a progressive before being progressive was trendy.”

She took a small drink of heavily watered wine that Mark poured for her.

“It was all going so well for everyone until my Father asked for money.”

“I didn't know that,” Emma put in.

“Oh yes. Some of you have wondered why there was a gap between Emma's birth and Samuel's? That's why. Father sent a message one day saying that he required funds and that should those funds not be forthcoming then my secret would be made public. Your father had already made several concessions regarding our marriage and told the then Lord Kalayn to go and fuck himself. The language was more flowery than that of course but you get the idea.”

It's always a special moment whenever my mother swears.

“Your father assumed, correctly, that Lord Kalayn wouldn't spread the word of my losing my virginity in a godless cult. The Holy Flame wasn't as powerful back then as it is now but at the same time, such cults would have gathered the wrong kind of attention. Lord Kalayn tried to put nasty rumours about anyway but they got lost in the muddle of all the other people who were trying to discredit the Coulthard's in general anyway and as a result of that they were ignored.

“Except they weren't because my husband now knew about the family secret.

“I have often wondered if he hated me then.

“Time passed and eventually your father's temper cooled and we reconciled. My father died and my brother inherited. My brother is a reasonably good man despite having been far too under the spell of his father and Grandfather but unfortunately he couldn't prevent the fact that his son turned out to be the most vile and contemptible piece of human waste that has ever been produced.

“They came for a visit shortly after my brother inherited...”

“I remember that,” said Mark. “I also remember being surprised when it ended really abruptly.”

“Yes, do you remember why?”

“No,”

“Good, we worked hard at keeping it out of the light. Your cousin, all of fourteen at the time, around Edmund's age went for a ride with Edmund. The two boys came back muddy and laughing as though they had shared the best jest ever. They were laughing and giggling all the way through dinner and when questioned, Edmund said that his cousin had “baptised him,”

“Of course I knew what he meant.

“We eventually found the farmstead in question where a young woman had been raped with her husband killed and the woman lying dead next to him having bled to death from some kind of internal rupturing. She'd had the tendons in her legs cut so that she couldn't move. The boys were laughing at the “funny” movements that she had made while she lay there and they raped her. Your cousin said that “The wriggling was most satisfactory” and complimented us on the quality of entertainment that the locals provided.

“I have never seen your father so angry.

“You all know your fathers rages as cold things, about how he freezes and goes deathly quiet? This was different. It was explosive and could not be contained. He thrashed your cousin, dragged my brother from his bed and dragged him down to the yard where he would have killed him had the guards not prevented it. My brother, his wife and son as well as his servants were told to clear out immediately. Their belongings were confiscated to pay restitution to the deceased's family members. My brother complained to the King but the King had seen which way the wind was blowing regarding the church of the holy flame gaining power as well as the fact that one of his chief advisers was a woman so he was given short shrift.

“Your father never forgave me for bringing my brother here. He saw those events as having spoiled Edmund, ruined him in some way. My family tainting his. We spoke about it often and he apologised for it equally as often. He just couldn't forgive me for it.

“But what he couldn't see, what he was incapable of seeing was that his reaction to those events made me love him all the more. He didn't understand it, he couldn't understand it. That was the point and even more than that, he tried to help Edmund. He really did try.

“Unfortunately it was not to be.

“I don't know when we lost Edmund. It might have been four or five years ago. I've spent some time thinking about it over the last couple of days and have come to the conclusion that there was no single defining moment. I think it was a gradual creeping thing. Edmund's appetites had been growing for sometime. Your father had already paid off some creditors directly, taking it from Your brothers allowance, we tried having him taken off to a monastery to get him clean and sober. An experience which was awful for everyone concerned. But in the end there was just no stopping him.

“By then your Father and I had grown apart. I had made it clear that I wanted to take holy orders, partly to atone for my past but deep down we did still love each other it was just that when we looked at each other... Everything we had got so wonderfully right in the rest of you, we had gotten so terrifyingly wrong for Edmund and he was the one that was going to inherit. I understand there was some provision made to protect the five of you from Edmund when your father passed on but other than that...”

she shrugged.

“Then Edmund came home a few weeks a go. He seemed like a dutiful son as though something had changed. The accident happened as you know and then...

“I don't know what to say. It was shortly after we had been told that your Father's injury was fatal. I didn't know then, about the death of the Stable-master and his wife, but I looked at Edmund and there was a look of triumph there that chilled my soul. I realised what he had done and that this... thing... in front of me was no longer my son.”

She took another drink.

“It was an odd thing really. I remember numerous events in my life where I have made decisions. Decisions for the positive. I remember deciding that I was going to marry your Father. I was sat on a bench in the gardens at my families estates, looking up at the house and realising that I wanted to get away from it all and that it was your father who had been kindest to me when I met my other suitors.

“I remember deciding on the names of all my children.

“I remember deciding to take holy orders.

“But I remember no such moment, no such critical, thought out moment where I decided to murder my son. Or rather, murdering the thing that my son had become. I almost thought of it like I was having to put down a sick animal. But I didn't decide it.

“I just realised that that was what I was going to do.

“I was inspecting the Kitchen as part of my duties to make sure things were in order and discussing with the cooks what could be served for your Fathers internment feast when I looked over at the selection of knives and thought that one of those would do the job nicely. It was just....

“Oh I don't know what I'm saying.

“I just...I just knew that that was what I was going to do.

“It's not as if there weren't plenty of reasons to kill him either. Safety of the family, safety of the surrounding people who owe our family fealty, safety of our family name and business and all the people who depend on us for their profession. All of those are true, and all of those are the reason that I have been able to live with the deed afterwards. If Edmund had been allowed to survive, our people would have suffered. Our family would have been destroyed as well but that seems superfluous. I kind of see it as my duty, both as his mother and as a duty to my husband to give the land and it's people someone who will look after it.”

She shrugged again.

“I cannot judge the correctness of those sentiments but that is how I've managed to justify it to myself.

“I took the knife. No-one questioned me, I borrowed the dressing mannequin to practice a few times but in all truth it wasn't that difficult. He demanded the keys to the study one night and I saw that this would be the perfect opportunity. I waited, followed him in where I found him at the desk, surveying his Kingdom as it were. He said something although I don't know what it was.

“It was so easy.

“I just walked up to him, he was looking up at me which meant that his throat was all but open. I leant forwards and the knife went in.

“Pushing the knife in was easy. Taking it out was much harder and I had to jump backward to avoid his blood spraying on me.

“He looked so surprised.

“I returned to my room, cleaned the knife and that was it. Between you, you know the rest.”

Mark nodded and looked around at the rest of us. His face was like a mask and I wondered if this is how he looked when he was dealing with confessions and the like.

Probably.

“So that's how it happened.” He said. “Also it explains the why. I do have a couple of questions though. Why did you not bring the knowledge of your families heresy to the attention of the church?”

Mother was still standing. I saw that it had cost her to stand there before her four children and tell that story, her hands were trembling.

“I, ummm, I don't know. It was normal to me. That was just... how we lived. I had to be told that it wasn't ok. I had to told that what had happened was heresy, that these things were not normal in everyone else's household. By the time it was coming up. I hoped, I prayed that my brother was making his own way apart from the rest of his families past and when it became clear that it wasn't...”

She shrugged again.

“Your Father begged me and made me swear on the fire that neither any of you, nor the rest of the world would find out about it from my lips. It was a promise that I was not reluctant to keep.”

Mark nodded.

“Then following on from that. If you knew that Edmund had descended into madness or into the nearest equivalent and decided to put him down like the sick dog that you saw him to be. Why not confess your deeds?”

“I did consider it. I would have done so had Sir Robart pursued Frederick any further. But I couldn't think of a way to do so without breaking my promise to your father who was still alive at the time and thus my promise still held me.”

Another nod from Mark.

“Well I don't have any more questions for this witness. Does anyone else want to ask anything?”

Emma, Sam and I shook our heads collectively. I can't speak for the others but I, for one, just wanted the entire thing to be over and done with.

“In which case,” Mark went on. “Does anyone want to say anything in particular about the case or about the accused and her confessed actions?”

“I do,” said Kerrass from his corner.

I had honestly forgotten that he was there and from the look on Mark's face as well as mothers, I wasn't alone.

“I do actually.” Kerrass got up and moved over towards the middle of the room and took a deep breath. “I am a Witcher. As such my... involvement in these kinds of affairs has often come to a close by this point in the proceedings. When I am hired to do a job, I find the culprit and then, if said culprit is a monster, I destroy the monster and move on, happily pocketing my fee. This time is slightly different as I originally came here to support my friend through a difficult time and as such I was quite surprised to find myself working during these events.

“It is not uncommon for the results of a more regular job to match up with what has happened here. People hire a Witcher for a variety of reasons, but one of the more common ones is that the death of... whichever person is so.... horrible, so grotesque that it can't possibly have been performed by a human being, therefore the crime must have been committed by a monster and that's what Witcher's are for isn't it? The extermination of monsters?

“The people who say that are correct. That is what we are for. It is our reason for existence. It is our calling, by destiny some say or by being suited to the task. But sometimes we investigate these crimes against nature and against, heh, sentient being and we find that the culprit is another sentient being whether that being be Human, Elf, Dwarf, Halfling, Gnome or otherwise.”

“Otherwise?” Mark raised an eyebrow with a slight smile.

“You'd be surprised Your Eminence. Anyway.

“Normally in those circumstances it is our practice as Witchers to hand over our findings and the culprit to the local authorities and let them do with the culprit what they will. Sometimes though there is a problem. Sometimes we find a monster that is wearing a human skin, or the skin of authority of some kind.

“So what do we do then?

“It is a discussion that has kept some of us awake at nights as to how we are meant to proceed. It should also be said that this is a problem that is getting worse as the days and years continue in their onward progress. More and more monsters that I track turn out to be the result of bored people out for...

“Fun,”

Kerrass grimaced.

“Handing these people over to proper authorities will only result in disbelief.”

Kerrass' voice took on a high and wheedling tone,

“Oh no Master Witcher, It can't possibly have been him. He's our son. You must be mistaken and there is something darker at work. That local old herb woman gave him the evil eye last week and maybe she's influencing him. Or those sprites that live in the hills. They are the real culprits.”

His voice returned to normal.

“What to do then? Some Witchers wash their hands of the entire thing and leave. Some Witchers take a more...strict view of things. They say to themselves: “I kill monsters. There is a monster and I must kill it.” and as a result the culprit is killed and the Witcher does their best to escape unhindered. Often with the gratitude and fear of the townsfolk speeding them on their way. The townsfolk having long known who the real culprit is.

“For myself and how I handle things in those kinds of situations. I look at my reflection. In a mirror, a pond, some other body of water or, failing all else, in my sword blade. I ask myself whether I could look myself in the eye if I did nothing.”

Kerrass took the time to look each of us in the eye. Mark definitely looked away, as did Sam and my mother I think.

“If the answer is that I couldn't live with myself? I destroy the monster and live with the consequences. If I can, I ride away without looking back.

“I recognise myself in the Lady's story. I recognise the symptoms of having a close friend or someone you consider as family go mad. Some of you may have heard stories about Witchers from the Feline school and their occasional tendency to go mad. In those instances they have become monsters and it becomes a Witchers duty to investigate and, if necessary, destroy those monsters.

“Sometimes, what society needs is a person with a sword. A person who is willing to use that sword no matter the cost.

“Because sometimes, the monster in question would normally be protected by society to the detriment of itself.

“To my mind... In that moment where the Lady decided to destroy her son, and yes I use the word destroy. Men are killed. Monsters are destroyed. She became a Witcher. Although for the briefest of times.

“It is clear, having read Edmund's diary and hearing stories about him, that Edmund had descended into monsterdom. That he had been driven mad by too much alcohol, drugs, hedonism and the worship and demands of his dark cult was evident and although he might have been able to fight off those effects for a time, sooner or later it was in his nature to go back to those hedonistic ways. If the church had caught him, there would be little doubt in my mind that he would now be waiting for his own funeral pyre.

“If he had been allowed to inherit?

“Think about what that would have meant. Not just for yourselves but for the other inhabitants of this castle. Or the inhabitants of your lands and your business parties. If he had been discovered at a later date, the results would have been catastrophic.

“The lady saw the problem and she cut it out in the same way that a surgeon removes a cancer.

“Or in the same way that a Witcher destroys a monster.”

Kerrass thought for a moment.

“No I think that's everything. If the court will permit me a small gesture...”

He fumbled in a pouch on his belt.

“Every so often we hear of a Witcher who has died or come across a place where a Witcher has been killed by a local monster or misunderstanding.”

He grinned nastily for a moment.

“Wherever possible we do our best to avenge the death and recover that Witcher's medallion. As such I have a small collection.”

He pulled out a medallion and turned to my mother.

“These are not given out often.” He said to her. “More often than not they are returned to our private places where they are kept so that those of us who still live can see them and remember the men who wore them, no matter what happened to them.”

He held out the medallion. I would later learn that it depicted a Griffin.

“This is not a gift. Nor is it an honour to receive one although some people take it as such and I would not tell them that they are wrong in believing that it is. Rather it is an acknowledgement. A token, given from a professional to a person who he thinks should have been wearing one at the time.”

Mother appeared to think for a moment before holding out a hand and taking it, she wrapped the chain around her fist in the same way that you would a rosary symbol of the fire so that the medallion itself rested on her fingers as she examined it.

I think, I hope that she was moved.

I certainly was.

“In that moment, Madam, you were a Witcher and I greet you as a sister.”

He took her hand and grasped it while clapping her on the shoulder with the other. When he was done, he nodded to the rest of us and left the room.

“Well,” muttered Mark. “Schooled on humanity by a Witcher.”

I saw small answering smiles on the faces of Emma and Sam.

Mothers face was unreadable.

“Ok, so,” Mark carried on. “The next thing to do is to decide what to do next. There's an even number of votes so we can't just vote on things. When that happens in those trials that I've been a part of where there is an even number of judges...”

“Hold on,” said Sam. “You're talking about Church courts. This is a civil matter surely as it's a straight murder without anything to do with heresy.”

“True,” Mark answered. “But there is no civil leader here as Father died. Normally, the feudal head of the area would make the decision, judge and jury style but we don't have that luxury. We could wait until after the will is read I suppose but... I don't feel comfortable with that.”

“Apart from anything else, it is a little cruel to make the accused wait for her sentencing for a couple of days. Especially after a funeral.” Emma put in.

“The responsibility is ours.” Mark added.

“Well, you're the almost certain leader. Why don't you just do it?” Sam asked. “Not that I want to pass this off but... I do want to make sure that this doesn't come back to bite us.”

“I was given authority to deal with this.” I finally felt as though I had something to say. “I think this needs to be done. It will also send a message, as a whole, to Father's enemies that we will not allow anything to come between us. We may argue about the result but once we leave here we need to be united and a decision made.”

“I agree,” said Mark.

“I would like to hear what Mark's advice is.” Emma nodded.

“Well I would say this. We appoint a head judge who doesn't have a vote. That judge narrows the choice for the others, in this case, the remaining three people. The Three make a vote along with any additions that they want to add. The head judge will take the vote. Further votes may come up for instance. The person must die, what method is used? And so on.”

“Ok.”

“So who's going to be the head judge?” Emma asked after a pause during which we exchanged uncomfortable glances.

“I think Mark.” Sam said. He had his arms folded.

“Yes, he has experience here and as such, that role best suits him.” I agreed. “Also, he's the most likely to inherit estate and title barring legal wobbles so it's a good image when people question this decision.”

“I notice that you say “when people question” there,” Mark smiled sadly.

“Because they will.”

“You're probably right. Everyone happy with me as the head judge?”

I nodded, as did Emma.

Sam felt the need to say it aloud. “Yes.”

“Right then.” He spent a long time just looking at our Mother who was examining the medallion on her hand while covertly looking at the four of us and when he spoke again he seemed a lot more formal. I began to think of it as his “Inquisitor” voice.

“The lady's guilt is without doubt. She has confessed after all which means that the question is not a matter of guilt but rather what we should do about it. The penalty for murder, especially the murder of your own child, is death. But there are also, undeniable, circumstances that may excuse her actions. The Lady has many times expressed her wish to take holy orders after her husbands death. That can easily be changed or adjusted to form a penance rather than a steady and spiritual retirement.

“So that's the question. Do we execute or do we let her live? Either result will mean further debate. I suggest that we vote and speak in order of descending age. Remember to express reasoning as well. Should we take a break to consider?”

“No, I want to get this over with,” Emma said and I must say that I shared the sentiment. “which means that I start.”

She paused, presumably to get her words in the right order.

“There is one thing that sets me apart from you all gentlemen. Including even our surprisingly eloquent Witcher, in that I am a woman and as such... The victims...appetites hold special horror for me in a way that they wouldn't for any of you. My sex and my social standing in being a woman in a man's world has it's insights as well. I suspect that I share with the accused a particular experience which is that of serving people coming to us to complain about the actions of the victim.”

I was watching Mother carefully and I am sure I saw her twitch at that.

“There is one serving maid who is no longer working at the castle who was raped and impregnated by Edmund. He swore to me that she was willing but she remembered nothing of the events having taken a drink earlier that evening. According to law, Edmund was well within his rights and as a noble man, his word is considered as greater than hers. I could not prove it but I am sure that the girls drink had been tampered with.

“The man was a predator and he preyed on those weaker than himself.

“Also, I have the perspective of being heavily involved in the family business and therefore having to do with the people who live round the castle. All of the hard work that we have all put in over the years, including Father and Grandfather would have been undone. Our place in the nobility is not as stable as we would all like to think, so imagine what would happen if Edmund had inherited. Broken his word to the merchants which would render the business void and raped the daughter of a visiting nobleman. The family would be destroyed as an armed force appears on our doorstep. Our men desert as they would rather serve reasonably honourable men rather than a rapist, cheating murderer and suddenly... The Coulthards are no more.

“I will admit to personal bias as well. I had been assaulted many times by Edmund under the guise of brotherly affection. What he called affection, I called assault. If Edmund had lived, then I would have been, at best, raped and murdered. It is very likely that the accused saved my life in doing what she did.

“I wish I had had the courage.

“I vote for a stay of execution and that the accused be aloud to retire in peace.”

Mark nodded, his face betraying no emotion. He was really good at this.

“Sam?”

Sam shook his head.

“I will say the word.

“Mother.

“She is our Mother and it would be useless to try to think otherwise.

“Mother. We all keep sitting here and saying “The accused”, or “The victim” but what we're really talking about is our Mother and our Brother. Our Mother killed our Brother.

“That fact alone has a bearing here and I am astonished that we are being aloud to govern it ourselves so much so that if I didn't know Frederick, another brother, I would have said that it was strange enough to warrant checking that we weren't acting outside our authority.

“The other thing here is that this decision is going to picked over by those who come after us. Our descendants as well as our rivals which, and I agree with Emma here, are many.

“This decision will dictate what people think of us and whether the Coulthard family are seen as grim and hard law-keepers who uphold the law without mercy or compassion. Or limp and soft men and women who only uphold the law when it suits them.

“I love my Mother. I do but I must ask myself what I would do if it was anyone else here. Anyone else who spun me a tale, no matter how provable, of her victims crimes.

“I would uphold the law.

“The law says that she dies.”

He looked over at Mother who met his gaze. He shrugged.

“I'm sorry,”

Mark nodded and turned to me.

“So it comes to me, as I kind of knew it would.” Again I had that sensation of speaking down a long tube from a far away place. “It might even be said that it should come down to me as some would say that I set these events in motion.

“That the murder took place is not in any doubt.

“But I also agree that Edmund needed to die to save our people as well as ourselves and those innocents whose lives would be impacted by his actions.

“I could argue, incorrectly, that as the widow of the murdered man, she has the right of vengeance.

“But none of that fits.

“Instead, I will say this and it's this that makes me most angry.

“It will take some time to get to my point so, please be patient.”

I saw Mark's lips quirk towards a smile.

“I have travelled with Kerrass the Witcher now for sometimes and I would say that I have seen humanity at it's best and it's worst. We have shared dangers and hardships and I am enormously flattered that he calls me his friend and as such I am sympathetic to his viewpoint.

“The deed was done. The accused, our Mother, saw that an unpleasant thing needed to be done and so she did it.”

I looked my mother in her eye then and strove to keep her gaze.

“To me, that was not a crime. It was something that needed doing. If she had then confessed to her actions to the sheriff's deputy saying, “See, this is why I did it.” Then we would have found everything out much sooner. Including the heresy and the torture and the victimisation and all the other crimes that Edmund and his slimy little cronies committed.

“Instead she kept quiet and hoped that it would blow over.

“One of the things that Kerrass said was that a Witcher sometimes makes a choice between doing the right thing. He said that he destroys the monster and lives with the consequences.

“The accused did not do that.

“Instead she allowed the Under sheriff to accuse one of her children.”

I saw her mouth begin to open.

“The lady might say that she would have spoken up if I had been imprisoned tortured and executed but to that I say this. The Under-sheriff told me that he had every intention of summarily hanging me from the nearest tree. If he had gotten me to imprisonment and had me questioned, I am sure others will agree with me that a man will say anything to escape the pain including to confess to the crime. How would the lady stop things if I had confessed under torture. She would be seen as a woman who would do anything to let her child escape the sentence.”

Mother looked away. For a moment I felt a sense of triumph, but then, after a while, I just felt sick.

“I agree with Sam, it is impossible for me to distance myself from these events.

“But, there is another consideration here that we must take into account.

“How many of these awful, awful events would have been avoided if someone had had the courage to do something about them before we got to this terrible climax. If that maid had spoken to father. If Father had told what he knew of his wife's family to the church. If Mothers confessor had spoken up... All of these things are as the result of shameful secrets being kept and as a result, more harm is done in the long run.

“Sam was right when he said that our decision will be examined by the people who come after us.

“So what do we tell them.

“All along there has been a sentiment said which is along the lines of “Flame Frederick, if only you had said nothing,” or “If only you'd left well enough alone.”

“I've even expressed those feelings myself but I was wrong. These things need to come out.

“What we need to tell people is that we will not suffer evil to exist. We also need to tell people that they should bring that evil to our attention and that we will act on it and investigate no matter who the culprit or the accuser are.

“Our mother's real crime was to stay silent after doing the deed and for taking the law into her own hands rather than going to the proper authorities. Our Father is also guilty of that crime. That is what should be punished. If we kill her, all we are telling people is not to bring things up and to take matters into their own hands.”

I laughed suddenly, startling myself.

“Remember what our parents taught us. It says what I'm trying to say much simpler and more eloquently.”

I turned to mother again and waited until she met my gaze.

“It's not what you did, it's the way you did it.

“We shouldn't punish the murder. It needed to happen. It was the way that murder was performed and the way that the aftermath was handled that needs to be punished.

“Death is too much for that crime.”

“What do you suggest instead?” I couldn't tell from his tone whether Mark approved or not.

A thought occurred.

“I approve of Witchers.” I said after a moment. “I think that they are needed sometimes. That necessary blade like a surgeons knife or an executioners axe.

“Mother wanted to take holy orders. I suggest that this be denied.”

I think Mother sobbed. She certainly paled.

“Instead, she should certainly live in a convent. But it should be one of those convents that is active in it's community. They should be a healing order where mother could learn to heal the sick and help those who help others. In all other ways other than the most important one she should live as a nun, observing the services and the rites and prayers but she should not be allowed holy orders.

“Instead she should treat that medallion as her holy symbol. She should pray with that in her hand even though she might pray to the flame and the prophets and she should wear it round her neck in place of her symbols.

“I suggest that the mother superior be made fully aware of her penance and when it is time for our Mother to pass on... Then the Mother Superior should make the decision as to whether she can take holy orders on her

death bed.

“That way, she can work towards redemption for the crimes that she allowed to be committed by staying silent.”

I stopped speaking. I felt dizzy and took a small drink of water.

After a long while Mark spoke again.

“I find that I agree with Frederick. Does that suit the other judges?”

“It does,” said Emma.

“Aye,” said Sam after a moment.

“Well madam there is your punishment. You will be denied holy orders until such a time as the abbess of the order that you are sent to deems you worthy. Mother Nenneke of the order of Melitele is well known to me and I shall write a letter of introduction to her. She is well versed in healing and also the nature of Witchers and so I think you will be suited to her care. I see no reason as to why you should not be present for your husbands funeral before you leave. Do you have anything to say?”

“May I address the court as a mother to her children?”

I did not look up.

“You may,” said Mark.

“I am very proud of you all. I made a mistake with the first but the rest of you are a credit to the holy flame and to your father.”

“Then the court is adjourned.”

I was up out of my chair like an arrow leaping from the bow-string. I made it the courtyard before vomiting. But only just.

It took a while but by the time I looked up Kerrass was there waiting for me with a large cup of honeyed milk.

“Drink this,” he said. “It'll help with the reaction.”

I downed the cup,

“Feel better?”

“Much.”

“Your brother tells me that you've gotten wise in your old age.”

“Oh Flame is there a cream for that.” I joked feebly.

“No.” He paused for a long moment, “You did well today.”

“Good.” I said staring off at the walls. “Because I feel damned awful.”