Chapter 149: Horrifying sight

“So what's going to happen to us?” Kerrass had decided that I had asked enough stupid questions now and wanted to ask some important ones.

“You are the sacrifices.” He said as though that explained everything. “I know that that is not something that is generally greeted with a great deal of relish and I know that you are not pleased at being chosen for such a thing but you should know that it is an extremely high honour to be chosen.”

“Really?” Kerrass' voice was bone dry.

“Oh yes. I for one am incredibly grateful to you.”

“What's involved in this sacrifice?”

There was a pause as Arthur rolled this question around in his mind. “You mean you haven't been informed?”

“No,”

“Well, I'm sure that Father will explain everything.”

“Is that where we're going?”

“Yes, he is waiting for you. It's quite unusual to be truthful. You must be very important sacrifices. Father doesn't normally attend the rites until the very ending of them. That point when the sacrifices have been caught and only then, he attends but rarely. The last time he was involved in the hunt, there were a group of heretics on the outskirts of our territories that needed to be cleansed.”

We were heading deeper into the cave which turned out to be the old remains of an abandoned mine. Shafts, sunk deep into the rock at steep gradients with ropes and pulleys for the use of hauling things about. We saw mine carts and pickaxes still stacked neatly by the side of the tunnel. I, for one, looked at them longingly and wondered if I could make it to one before the bolts from the crossbowmen would rip through my flesh.

It was an intricate place and beyond my previous understandings as to how large it was

We passed a large chamber which was full of horses. The stench was incredible and I suspected that there were some animals in there that wouldn't be horses for very long. The only natural light in the place was from a hole that had been cut in the ceiling which the horses seemed to fight over the privilege of standing in.

Here's a tip, for those people that don't know anything about horses and I should also say that I know very little. Horses are outdoor creatures. They need to move and run and exercise otherwise you run the risk of having the horse waste away, which was what was happening here.

We passed other store-rooms and several....I'm going to call them barracks which were full of men lounging around in a state that reminded me of drunkenness. A sharp smell stabbed into my brain through my nasal passages.

“You smell it don't you.” Arthur asked me when I staggered. “The smell of the God.” He beamed happily.

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“He gives us the herb and the powder so that we can know his face. So that we can spend time in his presence and feel his glory. Try to enjoy it if you can. It can take some time to get used to and it can be overwhelming.”

“I smell narcotics.” Kerrass said. “Opiates and hallucinogens.”

“Dangerous?” I asked him.

“You'll live,” Kerrass told me.

“I have heard that the herbs can be harmful to those people that aren't used to it or have spent so much time in the heathen lands outside the caverns.” Arthur said at the same time. “Although I haven't heard the “presence of the God” being described as “narcotics” before. What are they?” His large and honest face creased in confusion.

“Do you often get given this....presence of the God.”

“I honoured to say that I do.” He said proudly, pushing out his chest. In doing so I saw the family resemblance with his brother.

“Then it is doubtful that you will understand. Let me just ask one thing though. Do you feel ill if you go without access to this “presence” for extended periods of time?”

“Oh yes. I mean, it makes sense doesn't it. It's like a kind of longing for that wonder. A desperation to feel that glory again and again.”

“And you can only get that stuff here, am I correct?” Thanks for reading on ManaNovel!

“Of course. This place is the closest to the God so the presence can only be felt here.”

“Naturally.” There was a subtle hint of rage in Kerrass' voice. “You poor bastard.”

Again, that oh so eloquent wince. “There is no need to pity me Master Witcher. I have a fairly grand life all told. I command many of the raiding parties out into the Godless wasteland to rescue many innocent men and women from their heathen state. I partake in more than my strictly fair share of Holy Rites. I have my choice of the women, or the men too if the taste should take me that way. All in all I am content.”

“Raiding parties?”

“Oh yes. We need to survive after all as well as further our message of hope.”

The depth of this man's delusion was phenomenal although I was left a bit wondering how much of that delusion was self inflicted and how much of it had been inflicted upon him by others.

“Also,” he went on. “We need to rescue the heathen from his irreligious practices.”

“Rescue.” I said, without inflection but Arthur took it as a question.

“Why yes. Otherwise, how would we be able to save their souls and properly worship.”

The three of us exchanged glances. Taylor looked sick.

“So you lead those parties?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes it's my brothers. The legitimate sons of my father always lead parties and I am content to follow when that is the case. But when they are unavailable and a hunt is ordered then I am glad to step in to fill the gaps.”

I sighed.

“How did your brother die?”

The poor fucker looked genuinely saddened. “It would seem that some of the heathens protected themselves against us. The false and heretical worships occasionally provide some measure of protection and he died trying to save a village from the evil that had overtaken it.”

“Was this recent?”

“I believe so. I was in a different party. It is a shame that we cannot save everyone and it would further seem that we have lost an area of our territory to heathen practices.” He sighed sadly. “It is a shame but we cannot expect to save everyone and it is a sign that we must redouble our efforts to appease the God. I would suspect that this is why the three of you were called to be sacrificed.”

Again, there was another exchange of glances. We had been there when Lord Cavill's son had died. Shot out of the saddle at Sir Rickard's orders.

We came into a large cavern. The atmosphere was thick with smoke from the many candles, torches and fires that were set around the place. There was some kind of through draft so it wasn't completely stifling. We were on a walkway, well above the floor of the cavern.

“There,” said our escort. “Our efforts to feed the God so that he might be better able to protect us.”

I looked over the edge. Where previously my anger had begun to gutter under the weight of the fear that had been scrabbling at my throat. Now it was a full and roaring flame, as though an extra gallon of oil had been thrown onto the blaze.

It reminded me of a church.

Rows upon rows of men, dressed in the leathery robes of the Hounds....I don't think that I can reasonably call them the Hounds of Kreve any more and they were swaying in time to the beat. They were obviously in some kind of stupor, whether that was caused by some kind of religious ecstasy or something chemically induced, I could not tell. At the front of the cavern, the point of worship for all of the swaying and the moaning, there were six poles in front of six tables. There were women tied to those poles and they were being flogged.

One of them was clearly already dead.

As I watched, one of the women was taken down from the pole and tied across the table. She didn't seem to struggle that much so I hoped that she was either in a drug induced state of her own, for her sake, or that she was already unconscious. Then another man took the whip from his fellow and began @@@ her.

I turned away as the bile rose in my throat and I had to vomit against the tunnel wall.

“You bastards.” I think it was Taylor's voice. “I've seen some sick shit in my time but....”

He didn't say anything else.

Arthur was almost apologetic. “It's the best way of feeding the God. Of giving him strength. The agony of the women feeds his hunger so that he doesn't turn away from us completely.

“You would have been better off if he had.” Kerrass grated. He stepped close to me and helped me to my feet. “We've seen enough now Arthur. I still pity you, but I hate you as well.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Arthur agreed. Come this way.”

“How can you do that? What did they do to you to deserve such a fate?”

Arthur shrugged. “They are women. What possible good could they serve?”

That was the moment that my mind shut down. The mental equivalent of throwing it's hands up in the air and walking away.

“Women are only good for three things.” Arthur continued. “The giving of pleasure, the production of children and the feeding to the God.”

“Be silent.” Kerrass told him. “You sully the air with your words. That these things are not said by you and that you were taught them along with the poison that you put into your system is to blame for the sickness of your mind. If I had a weapon I would put you down like the sick dog you are and with pity in my heart. But you will not defile the air further with your illness and the evil that you have been taught.”

Kerrass can wax poetic when he puts his mind to it.

Arthur nodded and did as he was told.

After some more time, we actually started to climb back up. The passages increasingly seemed to be sloping upwards until, for want of a better word, we came to a hallway. The same as you would find in any castle. There were flagstones on the floor and torches in the brackets on the walls. I had to guess that there would be another entrance somewhere that you would let you get here easier.

Arthur led us to one room. Knocked on the door. I didn't hear what it was but he heard something before nodding to himself and opening the door. Half the crossbowmen preceded us in while the other four waited to shepherd us.

It all seemed a little pointless to me if I'm honest. I had absolutely no intention of running anywhere. I was still too tired, too weak from what I assumed was a lack of food and the stench of the rooms that we had come through and I still had too many questions. From the expression on Kerrass' face, he was similarly afflicted.

I was utterly unsurprised to find Lord Cavill sat behind a table. We were in a guest bedroom of some kind. There were several windows high up in the walls that let in some natural light as well as some fresh air but in the main, the room was lit by several oil lamps, candles and the roaring fire that had been set in the fireplace. There was a large, opulent and exceedingly soft looking bed, a trunk and a dressing table.

Lord Cavill's riding boots were next to the door, caked in mud. Left for the servants to come and clean, the same way that I do it when I'm at home. The way Father taught us to do it.

I already felt sick.

But that wasn't the only detail that caught my eye. As well as blankets and pillows, the bed was a four posted bed and there were ropes and shackles attacked to the post and at varying heights. An inventive mind could put those bonds to all kinds of shapes.

There was also a rack in the corner and the table that Lord Cavill was sat at was no desk.

There were also several rich looking chairs that Lord Cavill failed to invite us to sit in. He was wearing a robe, similar in colouring to Arthur's robe but this had a gold thread sewn in around the hem.

He looked up and almost smiled as he greeted us.

“Ah, Lord Frederick and company. So good of you to join us.”

“Go fuck yourself.” I would flatter myself that if I was feeling a little better then I might have been able to come up with something a little more eloquent than that.

It seemed that Cavill agreed with me as he tutted and shook his head. “Not the most polite language Lord Frederick. I would have you punished for such insolence but there is actually some traditions that we are following here and as such it would be unseemly to strike you.”

“Then what are we doing here?” Kerrass demanded.

“And so, we come to the real leader of your little triumverate.” Lord Cavill was almost rubbing his hands with glee. “You are here so that I can take my revenge you filthy little yellowed eyed snake.”

“Technically, he's a cat.” I told him but I was ignored.

“But also,” He went on. “It is tradition. I am the High Priest of the God after all and it is my duty to inform the sacrifices as to what is going to happen to them.”

“Ooh, ooh. Is it cake? I would like some cake.” Taylor's turn to be flippant. “Maybe some beer to and I like my steak cooked well done. So well done in fact that it's black.”

This tirade got through Lord Cavill's facade for long enough that he earned himself a withering look and a sneer of disgust. For the uninitiated, In hunting circles, Steak is supposed to be cooked rare. The bloodier the better.

“Preferably,” Taylor went on. “I like it so that if someone dropped it on the floor then it would shatter.” He grinned.

For those who are wondering. I like my steak rare but not blue. That's one step too far for my tastes. I know, I know that this is the “ultimate” steak flavour but I....I just can't. Call it a character flaw if you like.

“Shhh.” I told Taylor. “You're putting him off his dinner with your heathen ways.” Taylor did his best to look sorrowful and failed utterly.

Kerrass waited for the children to subside

“So, we are to be sacrificed.” He said after a while where he manfully managed to avoid glaring at either Taylor or myself.

“Yes, you will be taken from here to another room where you will be fed and you may rest so that you can properly regain your strength. You may even have a woman brought to you if you wish although I might go so far as to suggest that you should possibly avoid such distractions and concentrate on eating and sleeping with your time.”

Kerrass nodded to show that he understood.

“Then, shortly after dawn you will be taken to a holy place where you will be consecrated.”

“Consecrated.”

“Yes, It's a kind of blessing. A lot like your heretical Baptisms. And then you will be released.”

Kerrass shook his head. “What?”

“Oh yes. We release you. You see, that was the thing that your brother and cousin could never understand Lord Frederick. It's supposed to be a hunt. We hunt our victims down before we feed the God with their pain and suffering. We give them strength and something to live for in that we feed them, allow them to rest and allow them to partake in carnal pleasure. And then we release them. We give them a night and a day and then we chase them.”

“So you are going to hunt us?”

“Yes. Then, when we catch you. We feed you to the God.”

“That's where the torture and the @@@ and the other stuff comes in yes?”

“Correct. We look forward to that bit. Again, your brother and cousin misunderstood the entire thing. They were only in it for the climax. For the pleasure that the proper worship of the God can give, they did not understand that proper worship of the God involves, patience and anticipation. You need to work for your rewards and the more you work for things, the better the gift that the God returns to us. You understand the principle well do you not Lord Frederick? After all, you have boasted many times regarding your skills regarding the pleasure of others. The orgasm is always the more powerful the longer you are kept waiting for it are you not?”

“So you have read my works then?” I commented.

“Extensively.” He told me. “Researching the behaviours of your enemies is an important factor.”

“Normally I just assume that people are just saying that they read things in order to make me feel better.” I commented to no-one in particular. “I would say though, that the principle that you are referring to is regarding the giving of pleasure to your lover. Not for the taking of pleasure for yourself. Let alone in torturing someone.”

“It works both ways.”

“I wouldn't know.” I told him. “Fortunately.” I sniffed derisively. It was a new expression that I was taking to with some verve. A disdainful sniff can be awfully eloquent. “But hold on though, can I ask a question? I mean, this would seem to be the sort of time that I could ask a question right?”

“You're right,” said Taylor, ever my comedic partner.

“I thought so. Can I ask a question?”

“Please do. That's the point about this conversation after all. It's so that the sacrifices can ask questions of the Hight Priest and so that they can finally learn what the rites entail and as to whether or not....”

“Yes yes. I heard what you are saying but if I'm honest, I stopped listening after you said that you would answer all my questions. But....Isn't it a bit stupid to talk to us in advance with some kind of promise that you can answer all of our questions and then you're going to let us go in some kind of staged hunt. What if we escape?”

I waited for him to open his mouth to answer before I jumped in again with both feet.

“I mean, it's exactly the same as those stories or plays that you see where the bad guy.” I gestured at Lord Cavill to make sure that he got the point. “Tells the good guys,” I gestured at the three of us, “the plan before putting us into some long and drawn out death sequence which we can blatantly escape from. What's it called?”

“Monologuing,” Taylor supplied.

“That's it,” I said. Have I ever mentioned that my mouth sometimes goes off on one without consulting me. It's always rather annoying when it does this. “Monologuing. What if we escape? What if you never find us?”

“No-one has ever escaped before.”

“There's always a first time.” I told him with as much certainty as I could manage.

“Where will you go? I can tell you all of this because it's part of the rites. You have been travelling for about six days. In what direction? Where are we? Hmmm? You stopped in the middle of the nine days total that you were in that cage. So let me tell you. You are miles, days away from anyone that would take your word for what has happened here. From someone would believe that I, Lord Cavill, well known to be a holy man of the heathen faith of the Holy Fire, worship some other deity. Then it would be even further still until you could find anyone that can actually help you. Who could marshal troops and come back here to help you look. That's if you can prove that you are who you say you are after all.”

He showed me that he was the true master of the derisive snort.

“What are you? Two Vagabond's and a Witcher. A Cat Witcher at that, against the word of an established nobleman. So then you have to find someone who knows who you are.”

“We made plenty of friends on our way here.”

“Did you now.” It was not a question, “Or did you, in fact, meet people who are actually my friends. They might not be true believers but there are always people who want to experience what we can offer. There's always someone willing to pay to torture a pretty girl, or a pretty boy to death. We reap the benefit in that we receive the power from The God, and they get their dick's sucked. Who's to complain?”

He laughed.

“That's not including the people who hate you for what and who you are. A jumped up little nobody, son of a jumped up little nobody who has lucked their way into having the ear of important people. You don't think that you've made lots of friends with your sister and your father before her, building a merchant empire like the one they have do you? How many people have you bankrupted? How many people have you displaced from their rightful position at the head of their households. You and that whore deviant of a sister.”

“Calling my sister deviant.” I said. “This from the man who worships dark and evil Gods.

“The things that I do are my Gods given right.” He raged suddenly. “I am the Lord Cavill. First born son of my father. That gives me the right to do as I please with my lands and my people. They exist on my sufferance and they give thanks to me for every breath that they suck down into their filthy little lungs.”

The three of us just stood there for a moment. I had heard that there really are Lords that are like this. That think of the people that live on their land as their rights. As belonging to them in some way. I had heard that this was a thing and indeed, I have met many of those self-same Lords who probably think this. It's just that the majority of them are also far too self-aware to admit this in public. It is becoming increasingly fashionable in the world to be working towards the betterment of your people.

There are many reasons for this but the main one is actually pragmatism. We've had three, large, continent sized wars in living memory. There is not a family in the north that hasn't been affected by this in some way, either having had someone lose their lives during one of the three conflicts or the aftermath, or having had their livelihood affected by economic realities in the wake of retreating and disbanded armies.

For a study on the subject of these effects I can recommend the book “The aftermath of war: The results of Imperial ambition,” by Lord Conton de Prait. He's a Nilfgaardian who retired from the Imperial treasury after the second war as he was one of a few people that were scape-goated for the failure of the second invasion. Fortunately, The Emperor was well aware that the problems that were actually to blame had nothing to do with Lord de Prait and merely exiled him. The book took on extra effect in the wake of the third Northern invasion by Nilfgaard forces. It's a fascinating read. Dispiriting, but fascinating nonetheless.

But I digress.

People have had to invest in their lands and in their people because otherwise, everyone starves. From the Lord down to the lowliest farmer. This is a completely separate issue from the problem of being able to pay taxes. The other problem is that, in the main, if you mistreat peasants then they will simply leave. Pack all their belongings onto the back of a wagon and head somewhere else where the Lords of the domain are more tolerant and understanding of the problems facing the lower classes. Or they could go somewhere which has been completely decimated by the wars to the point that there is no working infrastructure at all.

I understand that Aedirn is very nice this time of year in the wake of their invasion.

So Lord Cavill's words were astonishing to me. Kerrass and Taylor must have felt the same as me though as neither of them spoke in the wake of Lord Cavill's extraordinary statement.

“So shocking to you, Lord Frederick. You know what it is to be better than someone. You are educated, intelligent and driven. You have looked down on the people next to you and thought that you are better than them.”

“I might have done.” I told him. “I might have done once, I might still do it occasionally from time to time. Now, for instance as I look at you. But just because I think it, doesn't mean that it is so, I'm often just better educated than they are. I know more, but that doesn't make me better.....Other than now of course. Now, I'm definitely better than you. But you, and I in the past, confuse being born differently as making us better.”

“Doesn't it though?” Doesn't it? I was the first born son of my house. I was the first to be born from my Mother who gave me life. Not them, not the person down the street, not you or this Witcher or this soldier. I was born first. Doesn't that say something. Doesn't that make me better? If we assume that The God, or the gods if you prefer, are powerful entities that control our lives. If this is the case, as you must agree that it is given how much of a spiritual man that I know you to be, then surely we must have been put into our own particular walks of life on purpose as part of some overarching plan. Therefore I was put here as part of the God's plans and given all the rights that I have.”

“Who are you trying to convince?” I asked him. “Us, or yourself. You also miss out an important part of that sentence. We are Lords of our lands by the power of the crown monarch with all the rights, Privileges and responsibilities that that position requires. You talk as though the people are there for your amusement rather than acknowledging that you have a responsibility to take care of them, to nurture them and to make their lives better.”

“Ah but Lord Frederick.” He smiled as though he had won the point. “That's precisely what I am doing.”

“What?” I demanded. “Telling them lies. Feeding them drugs to keep them compliant so that they fulfil your sick and twisted perversions?”

“What I am doing, is feeding the God.” He told me. “I am saving them. I am worshipping his holy radiance. He feeds on our suffering and gives back bliss. It is my place to feed that as I have the power to provide that suffering.”

“If that were the case, then why not have them torture yourself?” I demanded. “Why not take a knife to your own innards and burn off your own testicles with a flaming brand? If the objective is to “feed the God” then why is your suffering any the less.....Oh what's the point.” I abruptly realised that I was trying to debate with a fanatic. You just can't do that as you will never win. Every argument that you make, everything that you say will just go further and further towards proving that they are correct in their eyes.

“I give up.” I told him throwing my arms in the air. “You are absolutely insane. No, that's not right. I've known some perfectly gentle and genuine people that could be called insane. I've skirted on the edge of that abyss myself on more than one occasion. What you are is a sick puppy that needs to be put down.”

Cavill laughed. I have no doubt that he simply thought of this as winning.

For all I know, he did.

But I was chastising myself. I thought that I should have seen that madness in his eyes the first time that I met him. That I should have been more careful and that we should have found some way to escape and bring back help for all the poor souls that were labouring under this utter lunatic.

He laughed for a long time.

“Which God?” Kerrass asked after a while.

“What?”

“I said, Which God?” Kerrass repeated. “You tell us that this is all in service to which God. If not the service of your own ego, which God is it. The Holy Fire? Although I think that even some of their more militant followers would look at some of the things that you do here and go “steady on.” After all, it was some adherents to the teachings of the Holy Fire that had the followers in your more Southern Sects burned around Oxenfurt after we found them and had them arrested.”

Lord Cavill said nothing.

“Then is it the sky-father Kreve? Did you know that the locals around Castle Kalayn refer to your riders as “The Hounds of Kreve?” I would have almost found that amusing other than the fact that it's so fucking tragic. If one of those people had told the right authorities that this was happening,, the followers of Kreve would have declared a crusade and wiped you out. Was it Kreve? They would have found this place even more disgusting than the followers of the Eternal Fire would.”

Lord Cavill said nothing. He was smiling a smug and self-satisfied little smile that I was beginning to get the burning desire to wipe off his face.

“It can't be Melitele or Freya,” Kerrass went on. “No priestess, or priest if you prefer although I've never heard of a Priest of either Goddess, would have ever allowed the things that you do here. Or is it the Lionheaded Spider that you worship? If so, it's not like any cult of the Lionhead that I've ever come across.”

“No,” Cavill finally moved. “It's possible that we were once an offshoot of Coran Agh Tera but if so, that time is long past. That misguided cult is about a longing for death, we long for life. We heighten it. The most intense feelings that a person can feel are pain and pleasure. Pain, much more so than pleasure but the line between the two is a thin one.”

“So this is a sexual thing. You're just....addicted to the feelings that this all produces.” Kerrass just put a hint of a sneer into his words. He once told me about the trick that he was using. If you deny a person or call them a liar then they will just clam up and you won't get any information out of them at all. Whereas if you deliberately get the information wrong, especially in the face of an arrogant fanatic like Lord Cavill, then they will do anything they can to try and prove you wrong. They will literally trip over themselves in an effort to try and prove to you, and to themselves actually, that you don't know what you're doing.

Lord Cavill jumped into the trap. Not that he was in that much danger to be fair.

“No, it all feeds the God. All of it. But the agony that people feel, the pain and the suffering of those lesser creatures, the anticipation of the hunters and the hunted that builds into the extreme explosion of pleasure and pain. That is what feeds the God and makes him more powerful.

“He is here. Can you not feel him? Feel him in the air around you. He is here, deep in the bowels of the earth. Buried under the centuries of compacted earth. He was old when this world was young and he shook the mountainside with his wrath. He spoke and the Gnomes that lived here scurried under ground. He was here and as he was, he reached out with his hand and caused the stars themselves to tremble.”

“What is his name?” Kerrass' voice was harsh against the the melodious and trained voice of Lord Cavill.

“There is no name.” Cavill almost whispered it. “We have no name for him. He is the nameless one, the root of everything and the basis for all of our drives and our ambitions. He is the source of power and the basis of all magic. He is chaos, he is force, he is.....impossible. Everywhere and nowhere, everything and nothing. He …..He is.”

Kerrass nodded. “So he isn't Crom Cruarch then?”

“That petty little peasant God. Heh. No, no he isn't.”

“Then why did Kalayn tell us that it was?”

“How should I know? Kalayn was a fool, trying to form a splinter faction of worship down in more civilised areas without proper understanding of the thing. He was trying to break away from my authority and gather his own followers. We supported him of course. The more we worship him, the stronger he gets, the more pain that we cause, the more power that he gives us. In giving him a name then it mean that he becomes more real to a certain kind of person but then they don't understand that his mystery is his power and....”

“So you are the High priest then?” I thought I could sense a small amount of impatience in Kerrass' voice.

“I have that honour.”

“How does that work?”

“I was chosen. You have to be a first born son. You have to have the power and influence to properly spread the work of the God. Money, political power, skill and the like. You also have to be able to go further in the worship than anyone else.” He turned to me and smiled horribly. “I had high hopes that your brother Edmund would be able to follow me when I die and finally go to join the God. High hopes. His appetites were....wondrously extreme. But Kalayn got his claws in. If only your father hadn't got in the way and then I would have been able to see to Edmund's proper education.”

I ignored him. My feelings about Edmund remain complicated but I would rather he died than he become, well, this.

“I've heard enough.” I said to the room at large. “There was some kind of discussion about food and a bed. If you want to rant at me some more, you can do it in the morning but right now, I'm feeling a little dead on my feet if you'll excuse the expression.”

“I have another question before we go,” Kerrass said before turning back to Lord Cavill. “I take it that you found us by virtue of a mage's skills?”

“Of course. How else did you think we were going to find you? Or subdue you so easily for that matter?”

“Did you really take him in so that he could avoid the Witch hunts?”

“Partially. He really would have fallen prey to the Witch hunters but in this particular case, it was more the fact that he found us. He had been having these dreams you see....”

“I see. You say this is supposed to be a hunt. Is it not a little unfair for you to have something like that at your disposal?”

“A little unfair I suppose but not catastrophically so. We don't use him for that though. It kind of defeats the object of the exercise.”

Kerrass nodded. “I'm done. Take us to our “Guest quarters” or whatever you want to call them.”

Arthur moved from his position to open the door, the crossbowmen that were still standing behind us started to move but Lord Cavill was holding his hand up.

“Wait. If you don't mind, I have a question of my own to ask before you go.”

“What's the enticement for us to answer you?”

“Absolutely none at all. Courtesy maybe?”

Kerrass grinned and glanced at me. I just shrugged. Taylor rolled his eyes. “Ask your question.” Kerrass said.

“We were going to take you anyway. We knew that you were coming as our agents in other areas, including your brothers lands told us that you were on your way. You have proven yourself our enemies too many times for you to be allowed to live. A large number of our first born sons died in that conflagration outside of Oxenfurt and as such, you deserve to die. The only reason that we haven't come after you up until this point is that we were waiting until we could arrange matters so that suspicion wouldn't fall on us. ”

“Your point?”

“We couldn't take you in the castle as that would give us away. So what was it that tipped you off. How did you know that we, that I, was involved in the attacks on your brothers people.”