Chapter 133: I should be down there with them. I should....

As it happens, despite my bluster from earlier. I did talk to Ariadne about the problem because I thought that she might want something of a say in the matter. She told me that, attractive though the prospect of annoying a bunch of church officials might be, that she wasn't available at the moment. She was working on something and couldn't get away at the moment despite any desire to see me. No she didn't tell me what it was although she did tell me that she was working on something that might get us some more information.

She also told me that she agreed with Kerrass. That the “Hounds” were not any kind of magical creature and that if anyone was performing magic on the kind of scale that would cause the effects that I described, then Kerrass would have been able to tell. I passed this information on to both Kerrass and Sam when we all reconvened.

“So Ariadne won't come?” Sam asked. I couldn't tell if he was pleased or disappointed.

“Not now at any rate. She told me that she couldn't get away.”

“Pleased to see that your sense of duty is not completely wasted although I cannot speak for hers.” Hacha sniffed. I would have reacted but Kerrass had changed his seat so that he was sat next to me and held on to my arm.

“Lady Ariadne is currently performing her duties according tot he Empress' dictates Inquisitor Hacha and it is not our place to counter that.” Sam said coolly. “My brother's sense of duty is not in question here, nor would it have been if he had chosen not speak to the lady and I would thank you not to bring the matter up again.”

Inquisitor Hacha sniffed hugely. I got the impression that he could give a shit about the Empress' orders and wanted to make it abundantly clear to everyone sat around the table what he thought of the entire affair.

“So it's not magic.” Inquisitor Dempsey said. “But we know that there is a magical aura in the nearby vicinity. Is it possible that the magic is a greater thing that makes there suggestions and theatrics take on a greater scale?”

“That is possible,” said Kerrass. “If the magic in question was cast a long time ago. Magic degrades over time but a skilled person could render such a spell. But a counter argument would be that there would be more magical effect when the Hounds were present. My medallion is moving no more or less when we saw the riders than at any other time.”

“What about the mist?” Sir Kristoff asked. “Surely it can't be a coincidence that they only appear in the mist or when the world is obscured in some way.”

“No, I don't think it's a coincidence,” Father Danzig said, “but there is another possibility. The “Hounds” only appear when there is a mist but that doesn't mean that they are not there. It's just that when the mist comes, they put their outfits on and ride out.”

“We can wear ourselves out speculating” Sam finally said. “We've already been talking ourselves around in circles for what has been hours but feels like days. The simple fact of the matter is that we still don't have enough information. We need to know more about our enemies and I think that we're already on a back foot here. We ride openly whereas they conceal themselves.

“I don't think it can be argued that there are people out there that are feeding information to the Hounds. So now we need some information to come back the other way. We also need to see if we can put some thought into where the Hounds might be hiding.”

We were all nodding.

“Just to be clear. I still think that this is something to do with the cult that was based here in the castle.” Kerrass spoke up. “I think there is enough of a similarity between what we saw down in Oxenfurt and what has been reported here.”

There was more nodding.

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“Right, so here's what I want.” Sam leant forward. “I want there to be some patrols set up to search and to be seen to search around my lands. I want each patrol to be made up of a mixture of Redanian soldiers, Church knights and Bastards.”

Sir Rickard shifted in his seat unhappily. “I would rather not split my men up.” He said, “Unit cohesion and all that.”

“I know and I understand. I also know that you are assigned to Lord Frederick and not to me but I hope that you will see the sense of the matter.”

“Oh I see the sense. I will insist on a couple of things though.”

“Such as.”

“I have trained my men to think and work differently to standard military units and as such they are not held down to standard military discipline. If anyone has a problem with the way my men behave they will see my Sergeant or myself before punishment is meted out as they may be acting under my orders.”

“Agreed.”

Rickard threw his hands up in surrender, “Then you have my men. But I work with Lord Frederick and I want at least three of them to help with that.”

“Done.”

“Do you always argue with your superiors about the disposition of your men?” Sir Kristoff was unhappy. Thanks for reading on ManaNovel!

“I do when I think people want to use them improperly.” Sir Rickard answered properly. “Also, as Lord Samuel points out. Technically I answer to Lord Frederick, not to Lord Samuel.”

““Technically,” you sound like a barrack room lawyer.” Kristoff sneered.

“When I have to be to protect my men, I am. My men are a dozen of the best scouts, bowmen and skirmishers on the continent and I will not see them wasted.”

“Gentlemen.” Sam snapped. “Let's not.”

Sir Kristoff subsided. Sir Rickard couldn't give a damn.

“So, patrols, looking for trails and roads and things. Any sign of bandit dens or camps that we haven't heard of. Caves....anything that might hide an armed force like the hounds. I want information gentlemen. Not heroes. In the meantime, I would ask the priests to continue their investigation into what happened at the castle. We're still looking for more members of the staff that might be able to give us something more. As well as that we need to keep talking to Aunt Kalayn and her servant and see what they can remember. But be gentle. Do not go to far or you will answer to me.”

There was more nodding although the priests were plainly unhappy.

“Ooh, and also. We've heard about there being the presence of some Elves in the local area. I would like to hear more about that. See if you can find them, or be found by them which is probably more likely if they don't want to be found.

“Freddie, if you could take Kerrass and Sir Rickard and keep talking to villagers. And I still want everyone back here by nightfall unless you tell me in advance. I don't want to be fretting about people that have been left out there and wondering. I want to know.

“Right now, the Hounds and there masters are having a discussion, a lot like this one, about what they are going to do about us. They are trying to decide what to do next. There are two options to my mind. The first is that they will decide that we are not a threat, or at best are a minimal threat. This will mean that they will continue with all of their established patterns. This will not be allowed by us and we will have to take steps to protect our people.

“But I think that the far more likely option is that they will decide that we are a real threat and they will come after us. They will depend on their tricks, and the fact that they know the land and the people better than us and they will start to attack.

“So we must remove those advantages. We must learn about this land. We must learn how it works. The safe option would be to retreat to our own holdings and hide behind these walls. But I refuse to be reactive. We must find out where they are and we must take the fight to them.

“So let's get to it.”

We all nodded and got to work.

It didn't take them long to find us, nor us them. It seemed as though there had been some kind of signal given and now the scouting began.

The next time there was a fog we saw them. Often in the distance, watching us. There was a vantage point above the tree line and at the top of a cliff above the castle. One of Sir Rickard's men who was standing on look out spotted the man and pointed. By the time that men got out there though, there was no sign of him. The ground too rocky for tracks but it would have been a struggle for someone to get there. I couldn't have done it and the men that did it had to use rope and pitons.

Several of the men commented that they felt as though there were eyes on them as they travelled. A cold feeling on the back of the neck. You might scoff in your safe havens in built up cities, but when the hardened soldiers start stringing bows, knocking arrows and start walking cautiously, you would do well to listen to them and do what you're told.

One morning we woke to find a wolf's head, stuck on the end of a spear in the pathway leading up to the castle, it had been left there in the middle of the night during a mist. No lookout saw anything.

And then we started to hear the sounds of howling.

The villagers also felt as though something was beginning, as though they were under attack and were increasingly getting worried. We tried to be calm and confident in the face of the villagers fear but the truth is that we were getting just as nervous as they were. Despite Sam's best efforts and intentions, we were becoming reactive.

Our maps improved, we became skilled in moving through that particular part of the countryside at speed and without having to resort to the roads too much.

We even found what we thought might have been old camp-sites that might have been used. There wasn't much, dug out patches on the ground where people could have lit fires that wouldn't have been visible at a distance, as well as a couple of places that were probably the burial of people's bodily waste.

But nothing concrete. We didn't even know whether the old camp-sites were human in origin or were the remnants of some of the elven camps that we had heard so much about.

Kerrass declared that the camps were human but that made little difference to the theorising. In short, it wasn't the most frustrating period in my recent life, but it was close.

It was maybe a couple of weeks later that something happened. We'd had a few good mists, even one or two that the locals described as being “proper” blood mists but if the Hounds attacked anyone then it wasn't us or any of the other villages.

Again, there were more theories that were tried to try and explain this but it still didn't amount to much. Inquisitor Hacha wanted to suggest that this meant that the actual physical number of Hounds was relatively small and that they had quiet a large amount of land to cover. But that was quickly countered by Dempsey who argued that the suspense and the waiting was just as powerful.

But in the end, it was when the two Inquisitors had been making one of their many visits to the Dower house to speak to Aunt Kalayn and her maid. They were still working on some of the chemical compounds that had been discovered in the castle and Inquisitor Dempsey with Father Trent was still trying to get information out of Aunt Kalayn's frazzled brain. Poor woman. Normally Sam went with them but he had injured himself after getting too frustrated in a training session with Sir Rickard and the Temerian had schooled him to much hilarity and a slight improvement in castle morale.

I remember wondering whether or not he'd done it deliberately for that reason but I never got round to checking with him whether or not that was the case.

Certainly his relationship with Aunt Kalayn did not improve to the point that the Inquisition had to ask him to leave the room for fear that she would physically attack him or that his presence would taint what they were being told.

Which was not very much.

I was stood on the corner tower of the castle watching the countryside. I had formed a habit of going up there to sit and have a conversation with Ariadne through the medallion that she had given me. We talked, on average, once every couple of days, sometimes we would talk for upwards of an hour, sometimes one or other of us would only have enough time for a small message of affection and to complain about whatever was annoying us at the time.

Very occasionally she had questions about how I wanted the wedding to take place, what I wanted from the ceremony and things but more often than not, she was telling me what was going to happen as part of, now, a four or five way organised wedding. The people that were getting involved were obviously my family to begin with who wanted to show off the Coulthard trading name, throw a bit of class and weight around to show off how wealthy, benevolent and wonderful we were.

Then there was the political aspect of the thing, that I was marrying into the noble families of Angral, and area of land that had been argued over by Kaedwen, Aedirn and Redania for a long time so there was also a certain amount of politics happening there. The Duke and Duchess of Angral (formerly the King and Queen of Angral for those people who like to pay attention to the complicated nature of the dynastic excitement that happens, had happened and will probably continue to happen in that corner of the world) wanted to be involved and have their own say about where things were, what flags would be flown and things of that nature.

Then there was the fact that the Empress had semi-formally adopted me into her family along with Emma, Mark and Sam. Therefore she had decided that, as another big sister of mine, she should have a say in what happened and when. Not that I think anyone, least of all me, was going to argue with her on that matter.

When the Empress decides that she wanted to do something, then generally the Empress gets to do what she likes. This is because, as she is fond of saying, “The Seventh and Light Vrihedd division works for her.” This didn't bother me too much, she wanted some semblance of normal family life and given that her “parental figures” were a Witcher and a Sorceress as well as the former Emperor and his bride who is arguable younger than Empress Cirilla, she really struggled with that. If it makes her happy to stick her nose into my wedding arrangements so that she can feel like a big sister, then so be it. As it happens, Emma had forged the beginnings of a friendship with the Empress and was teaching her about Economics, much to the consternation of some of the older Nilfgaardian courtiers.

But that led us onto the Lodge of Sorceresses. Ariadne was an open and public member of the Lodge of Sorceresses, was also working openly on helping the Empire with some of the magical problems that have cropped up in the Empire over the last few years and now she was marrying a nobleman openly. This was causing some head shaking but the Lodge were determined to make a point of this, as if to say that the Lodge were people too and as the Lodge were also heavily involved in and with Kovir and Poviss, there might end up being some other formidable people sitting in on our ceremony.

There might be nothing more emasculating than the sights of Madame Yennefer, Madame Eilhart, Lady Vigo and Lady Maleficant sat in a row, glaring at anyone who might think differently of them.

That's if the honoured Lady Findabair doesn't turn up. She's being invited as she's a member of the Lodge although Ariadne promises me that it's unlikely that she will actually show up.

Also, Ariadne tells me that she's still working on who will be in her bridal party. With no-one to walk her down the aisle, she will almost certainly be accompanied by Maleficant. Imagine that if you like. Lady Maleficant carrying flowers in a pretty bridesmaids dress.

You can thank Kerrass for that mental image as he was the one that gave it to me.

But I've gone off topic. I was stood on the top of the tower watching the sun set. I'd had some hard training with Kerrass earlier as he had been moaning about not getting enough proper training in and I was feeling sore. I was also trying to enjoy the undeniable beauty of the countryside. Because it was, honestly, beautiful despite all the darkness and misery that had taken place within the walls that I had stood on and in the surrounding landscape.

Kerrass was with me, still working his sword forms, well away from where I was perched on the walls and Sir Rickard was watching him. Sir Rickard was struggling a bit with having his men split over the different patrol groups he complained about it bitterly whenever he could get anyone to sit still long enough to listen. He'd nearly gotten into a fight about it with Sir Kristoff as Kristoff demanded to know whether or not Rickard was questioning his competence to which Rickard replied that he wasn't questioning his overall competence, more his ability to command specialists like his men.

His temper was not improved. Not helped by the fact that he had been soundly drubbed by everyone there on the practice field today, other than me. Partially because he was worried about his men, but also because, in Kerrass' words, “He's not a fencer, he's a duelist. If any of the others fought him on a battlefield, I think that they would be in for a shock.”

He was pacing.

“They're late.” He told me.

“Who's late?” I asked as I looked up from the small book of notes that I was working on.

“You know damn well who I'm talking about.” he snarled. “The noble Inquisition is late getting back.”

“So?”

“So? They're supposed to be back before night fall.”

“And they will be. Night hasn't fallen yet.”

“The sun is sinking.” He protested. Pointing indignantly.

“It does that.” Kerrass commented drily.

“Fuck you and all.”

“What's all this commotion?” Sam grinned as limped up the stairs to where we were all standing. “As if I don't know.”

“They're late.” Rickard snapped at him.

“I know, and believe me, I will have words with the noble Inquisitors when they get back about time keeping, but in the mean time there isn't really much we can do.”

“Something might have happened.”

“Something might have.” Sam was being reasonable. In that way that is almost designed to wind people up even further than they had already been wound. Especially when the person in question wants something to get angry at. “But what should we do about it. There are men here and they need to stay here to secure the castle. Father Danzig's group are staying out at the other village tonight”

Rickard subsided a little but not much. “They're late.” He said again.

“And there is a mist growing on the mountainside.” Said Kerrass walking up to the wall having stopped his practice, “and the sun is setting red.” He started to reach inside his tunic to get his medallion out.

I turned to watch the mist form. As before, it seemed to slither down the mountainside, it felt as though it was less like water this time, there was an added dryness to the air which left it feeling odd. A strange kind of static feeling like what you get when you rub your hands over course sheeps wool.

The sun was still shining though and it shone on the fog with a strange red glow which only made the fog seem more solid but at the same time as though it was glowing.

We watched it for a long time. Kerrass had his medallion out and was watching carefully. “No more or less magic than there ever is in this part of the world.” He declared before tucking the medallion back into his shirt and starting to pull his leather coat back on.

“Your men to the walls I think Sir Rickard.” Sam commented. “Bows strung and ready.”

“There are only eight of us here.” But Sir Rickard was moving despite the complaint. “Not that they'll be much use in the fog.”

“But better shots than the crossbowmen I have with me.” Sam countered “Now snap to it if you please.”

I was rubbing some life back into tired muscles. I suddenly had the premonition that I was about to need to move very quickly.

Sam gave a few more orders. He ordered the remaining horses saddled and that the gate should remain open for as long as possible. A bugler joined us on the tower as well as a signal man with the flags ready. The trees and the fog might deaden one or the other but the hope was that at least one of the two messages would get through. Other soldiers and knights formed up next to the gates, ready to sally forth.

The bastards took up their positions, War-bows strung and leaning on the walls. They had a bag of arrows per man, easily containing a hundred arrows each. Each of the men flicked through the bag, choosing out a couple of favourites to be kept on the wall next to them.

“This is going to be fucking messy.” Sam muttered to himself. “We're not going to see a fucking thing.”

True to his word and with surprising speed, the fog rolled over us. At one point it was a bank of solid, red, rolling cloud moving towards us and then suddenly it was as though we had been wrapped in a blanket.

It was much darker in the fog. Colder too.

It was not as heavy as we thought it might be either. You could make things out enough to move around without falling off the walls but that's not the point, the same as when you try and move around to fight in the darkness, it's not what you see, it's what you might see. Or that you imagine seeing that cause you the problems. I knew I was useless up on the wall. If I was going to be any help at all I would have been better down in the courtyard with the horses or getting ready to help receive wounded. Sam had brought a field surgeon with him but if there was anyone else then I might be able to help with stitching up wounds and setting bones, leaving the more serious injuries to the professional.

Heh, there's that word again.

But I wanted to see what was happening.

Time passed slowly in the mist. There was no way that we could mark time, we couldn't see the sun other than the fact that a particular quarter of the sky was markedly brighter than the other.

Then we heard the thunder.

But that wasn't what it was. It wasn't a storm at all. There was no lightening, nor was there that feeling of imminence that there is when you have a serious thunder storm. It was also a constant, rolling sound. There was a rhythm to it but I couldn't quite tell what it was.

Because then the howling started.

I looked at Kerrass who, once again was standing with his medallion out in front of his eyes. He didn't react otherwise. Sam was frowning in concentration.

The howls weren't those of dogs or wolves as far as I could tell. Dogs less so but I have found, when I have heard a pack of wolves howling, there is an odd sense of harmony about it. As though they have agreed something. With dogs it's a lot more chaotic, a lot more lacking in organisation. There are peaks and troughs to the sounds of dogs howling. Like valleys and hills of sound. This was a constant thing. Like a blanket that covered us all like the fog that really was. Mixing it in with the sound of thunder, it felt like it was going on for years.

I took to pacing, I couldn't see anything, so I would walk from one end of the parapet to another and then back again. I knew that I was out of bow-shot range. The tower had seemingly been placed here for precisely that purpose. It was a long way down to the valley and causeway below. The only way to shoot at a place like where we were would be to be above us but that wasn't going to happen.

I should explain something about the terrain that we were facing. Down from the castle gates there is a roadway that circles the rocky hill that the castle is built on. On one side of the road is the rock face that would, eventually, lead up to the castle and on the other side there was either a steep drop off or another, equally steep rock wall. Anyone attacking the castle in force would need to make their way up the causeway to get to the gate house which would not be a pleasant climb with the castle defenders raining arrows, rocks and any other generally unpleasant things on to your heads. It would be up this road that the returning men would be coming and peer as I might, I couldn't see the road. Or I might be able to, but the distance and the fog was distorting things.

It's at times like this when we realise how much we see depends on movement.

So I paced while I waited, not very constructive but it made me feel better

“We need fires,” Sam commented to himself. “Fire baskets on poles down there so that they can be lit in times like this. It would help burn the fog away and give archers more light to shoot by.”

“It might also obstruct the view by distorting things.” Kerrass commented without looking up.

“It might,” Sam admitted. “But right now I want to do something, there isn't anything to do other than to wait, so all I can think about is how I might make the situation better.”

Kerrass said nothing.

I continued to pace, unconsciously counting off the time as I went.

Have I mentioned before how much I fucking hate waiting?

“How many men with the two Inquisitors?” I asked Sam.

“Two of the bastards. Half a dozen of the flame soldiers, a couple of the Redanian footmen and a Church knight from Danzig.”

“Not a small number of men,” I commented.

“No, but.” He grinned suddenly. “It suddenly doesn't feel like enough.

Rickard rejoined us on the tower after having organised his men. His own warbow carried easily in his left hand with three arrows carried in his right. Another arrow was already knocked. His bow was a huge thing, easily longer than he was tall and Rickard is not a short man, while at it's thickest I couldn't fit my entire hand round it. Sir Rickard is an officer and a knight now. He once told me that he rarely fires a shot in battle or when his men are fighting. There was a change that happened when he was elevated from the ranks to the nobility and although it is a change that he sometimes resents, he has become incredibly good at it. He says that the difference is that no, his men are his weapons. I had never really seen them fight but I guessed that he used them very well. He still carried his bow though and he trained with it obsessively.

“Who's still out there?” I asked him as he walked up.

“Pendleton.” He said before taking a deep breath. “Pendleton and Shepherd.”

“I don't know Shepherd.” I commented.

“You won't. Quiet man, likes to stay at the back of things, quiet like. I once managed to get him to admit to being a trained killer for someone in Temeria until he got burnt and joined the army to hide away. Truth be told, since the war ended I keep waiting for him to desert but he never has.”

Rickard looked me in the eye.

“I've got a bad feeling about this Freddie.”

“You and me both.”

“I should be down there with them. I should....”

Then we head a scream from deep down in the valley. A cross between a bellow of rage and a scream of pain.

No sooner had my brain registered the sound than I realised that Rickard was running back to his position on the wall.

“Eye's up,” he called. “Eye's on. Look to.”

The Bastard's drew their arrows to half-draw. Not so that they were straining their bows but so that there was that small amount of time cut out for them to be drawn to full. I could see soldiers getting on their horses down in the courtyard.

The screaming didn't stop, but it seemed to be getting closer.

Something moved on the causeway. As it turned out, with the movement I could see more than I thought I would be able to. A lone riderless horse, stirrups banging it's side as it ran headlong up the causeway.

“Steady,” Sam's voice rang out. Maybe because I knew him so well but I thought I could hear strain in his voice. It wouldn't have surprised me if it was.

Somebody caught the horse and brought it into the courtyard. Sam clapped me on the shoulder. “Go and find out.” He told me, ordered me really but I wasn't about to complain as I ran down into the courtyard and ran up to the groom who was bringing the horse further into the courtyard. “Well?” I demanded.

“Redanian sir.” It was one of Sam's squires who answered. The lad was physically shaking. “Our shoes and gear. Standard issue.” I nodded and turned back to get Sam the news.

“Sir,” the lad called turning me round. “Sir, there's blood on the saddle.”

I nodded.

The screaming was getting closer, it felt as though it was almost on top of us by the point that I climbed back up to the tower and gave the information over to Sam who said nothing, he barely even reacted as I told him, just nodding slightly. I left him to his brooding and went to stand next to Kerrass. He'd put his medallion back under his short and was leaning against the parapet, peering down into the smoky darkness.

“There,” he said after a moment. “On the edge of the clearing at the base of the causeway. Coming up the road.”

“Where?” Sam and I said at the same time.