Chapter 50: Try me

“What is evil Frederick? What does it look like?” Kerrass asked me after describing the Hunter's death.

“Kerrass. Such a question has been asked by philosophers and thinkers since the dawn of time, we're hardly going to solve the problem here and now. A Witcher and a Scholar of history, sitting in a pub.”

“I don't know. Many important things have been decided over the years in back rooms of taverns and the like.”

“Yes, but here we're talking about the really deep questions.”

“True, but where else are we going to find proper answers?”

I sighed and put down my pen for a moment.

“My tutor once said that “Evil exists when good men do nothing.” He was quoting from some old philosopher and I was a twelve so I wasn't paying that much attention. He argued that because of this that True evil comes from apathy. To do nothing.”

“That sounds like your tutor was trying to persuade you that you were lazy and that laziness was bad.”

“You're probably right. I did read another argument once that said that there is no such thing as evil. The argument was long winded and tedious. In my mind it was written by a man who was trying to fill a word count in order to be published but he said that evil is in the eye of the beholder. There is no such thing as a truly evil person because even the most evil of people in history believed that they were doing the right thing. That there was an explanation for whatever actions that they had taken. Where there wasn't, it would inevitably turn out that that person was absolutely mad and had a side hobby of barking at the moon. Therefore if that person was successful. If that “evil” turned out to be victorious then history would then portray “us” as evil.”

“I've heard this argument before and it does have some merit although there are exceptions to every argument there. You have already pointed out the exception of the person who isn't thinking rationally. I am a Witcher and in theory my task, my entire reason for being is to combat evil. To destroy monsters and to protect those who lack my skills, conditioning and experience, from the things that lurk in the darkness. But the vast majority of those things are not evil. Not really. If you study the monster enough it nearly always turns out that the humans in question have encroached on their territory or have interfered with a breeding cycle or similar. Their behaviour is measurable, quantifiable and instinctual. Not really evil.”

“Precisely. So therefore, what we see is that evil, in whatever form it takes, is in the eye of the beholder. A farmer doesn't ask the griffin that's nicked his sheep whether it was hungry. He just says that the creature is evil and needs to be destroyed.”

“But saying all that, the answer that evil doesn't really exist is unsatisfying.”

“I know an answer to that as well.”

“Oh?”

“I'm not saying I agree with it of course.”

“Oh of course.”

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“But it goes like this. Humankind is unhappy with the way the world exists. Bad things seem to happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. The chaotic nature of the world makes it so and we don't want to accept that this is the way it's meant to be. We want to inflict our own perceptions on it and invent God's, spirits and moral codes on it in order to reconcile it in our own minds. As a result of this we refuse to accept that there are simply creatures out there that happen to enjoy eating babies, or that the impaling of thousands of people on spikes is a valid terror tactic. We are terrified that, in that position, we might do the same thing so we call him evil and as such we feel better because that makes us better than him.”

“So in short what you're saying is that we need the terms “Good” and “Evil” in order to make ourselves feel better about ourselves.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

Kerrass made a non-committal noise.

“I take it you don't agree.”

“No, I don't think I do.”

“That's good because I don't like it either. Which I suppose, in a roundabout way, also proves that that argument is true.”

Kerrass smiled.

“So good and evil are abstract concepts that we have invented so that we can make sense of an otherwise chaotic world.”

“Yes,” Thanks for reading on ManaNovel!

Kerrass sat in silence for a long time.

“I have another answer for you.”

“Oh yes?”

“Evil happens in small moments. Just small moments, tiny little ones. It happens in the form of a decision. It can be a big decision or a small decision. But what's important is that you have plenty of time to make that decision. The evil happens when an otherwise normal person makes the decision to harm others for their own ends. Not for the good of the kingdom, survival or for the good of their children but purely for selfish reasons. Any man can commit murder on behalf of their children and I would say, in times like the recent wars where famine and disease has hit the continent hard and people have had to make lots of hard decisions upon which their, or their families survival depends. But when you harm others to satisfy your own ambitions, or greeds or comforts. That is evil. But also, evil is when you force otherwise good men to commit evil actions. That is also evil.”

I nodded.

“Why did you bring this up Kerrass?”

(Frederick's note: I'll hand over to Kerrass here)

Because I saw an evil man.

I decided to kill Alphonse, the priest next.

It's not really that big a secret as to why the decision was made that way round. I hated that man. I mean I really hated him.

Erick and Alphonse were the two men out of that group that I didn't really understand. The Prince was a prince and I was still a Northern man enough to think that royalty was a kind of breed apart. That they had their own reasons and their own methods for doing things. It never even crossed my mind that the prince might not know what he was doing when he commissioned that expedition out to another country. The venture was a risky one. He had been quite right to comment that if the villagers here had been feeling more belligerent then he wouldn't have survived the journey. He was lucky that he had made it out alive.

The other guards were just following orders and their princes example. He demeaned the Princess and as such he allowed them to do the same. That was no excuse of course but at the same time... I understood that.

I had hated Erick though. When I thought about all the horrible things that were done to the Princess it was Erick's face that came to mind. His pale, sweaty face as he licked his lips while thinking of degrading and humiliating that girl. Now though, I was free of that as Erick was dead.

But Alphonse? He must have known what was going to happen. He was prepared. He had the tools of his trade, the candles and the book and the vestments to conduct the marriage ceremony. He must have known what the whole thing was about. And he took money to do it.

In many ways, sitting here now in the calm day light of a Tavern tap-room, Erick's sin was cleaner than Alphonse's sin. Erick didn't know what was going to happen when we got to the castle. He wanted the treasure, he had spoken about the many wonderful things that he was going to buy when he got back, laden down with the wealth of a kingdom that he imagined that he could carry back with him in his saddle-bags. He had been as amazed and astonished as the rest of us when he had seen what the Prince's treasure actually was and had been driven to madness at the sight.

But Alphonse knew.

I wanted to know his reasons. Why would a priest do something like that. Why would a priest allow someone to take advantage of a helpless young girl in that way. Some might argue, and they have, that the Prince ordered him to do it. But to that I would always argue that Alphonse had been able to argue, successfully, for more money. He had been bribed to do this thing. To give the Prince's crime that thin veneer of legitimacy.

There was a commotion after Erick was found dead. It all happened surprisingly quickly really. The following day, when he didn't appear for his normal descent into drunkenness and debauchery the locals asked each other where he could have got himself off to. They held a brief discussion, came to the conclusion that Erick must have gotten drunk and fallen and hurt himself. A search party set out along the path from the village back to the cottage and they found him soon enough. I hadn't gone to any particular lengths to conceal my crime and they wondered over what they found.

The general consensus was that Erick had tried to force himself on someone's daughter or wife while in a state of drunkenness and that the woman's husband, father or brother sought out their revenge. I did have a little chuckle at myself when the guard were summoned and this theory was underlined by the fact that the stabbing stroke to the stomach was so inexpertly done.

They were right. I hadn't thrust so much as just held my sword out for Erick to run on to.

The town and the castle was always full of strangers however and nearly all of us were armed in one form or another. It was also thought that since Erick's disappearance, any number of merchants or travellers had departed and as such it was decided that catching the criminal was almost certainly a wasted effort. The story of Erick's life was decided as that of a good man, ending badly. Various people said that they chose to remember him as the man he used to be before the “demon drink” got hold of him.

The irony that this was said in the tavern when the same “demon drink” was being served and drunk with abandon was not lost on me.

Alphonse was the priest of a small church from a nearby town. This in and of itself was a little surprising. I had been lead to believe that Alphonse was the castle chaplain of Duke Bertrand but this turned out to not be the case. Instead he spent his time ministering to his flock from a small stone church in a nearby town.

Having asked around, Alphonse spent a lot of his time at prayer and had a habit of inviting people to come and pray with him. Predictably a large number of these people seemed to be young and pretty. The church in question seemed to be going from strength to strength. There was a small monastery attached to it which was populated by a small number of monks who kept themselves to themselves and seemed to do precious little else other than pray and disappoint the locals. It was one of the peculiarities of the south that they liked their religious people to be heavily involved in the community, working the fields, helping out with the elderly, looking after the sick and teaching the children and so on. But these monks stayed in their cloister.

There was also a large and well appointed rectory for Alphonse where he entertained many guests. The locals proudly claimed that many important men came by, nobles and travelling clergymen who would spend some time “in prayer” with the Reverend Alphonse before moving on.

Alphonse seemed to have an inexhaustible fund of money from which he drew considerable funds in an effort to further his goals. All the locals saw was his generosity in providing more and more things for their aid and local prestige but in my cynicism and dislike for the man, what I saw was an ambitious young priest who wasn't willing to make time and hard work lift him up the ranks of the southern church of the sun.

(Frederick's note: I don't know much about the prevalent religion of the area other than general things but generally at the time the Nilfgaardians were getting together to form the “Cult of the eternal sun” which would go on to form their more famous heraldic device. From there they started to see their Emperors as being personifications of the Sun. Whether this deification of their leaders was to put their claim beyond doubt or not? I'll leave to you.)

The locals were beginning to refer to Alphonse as “Bishop” Alphonse and one of the local woodcarvers was in the process of carving a large and ornate wooden “Bishops throne” for this purpose. Apparently all it took in those early days of the sun cult was a throne and a church to call a man a bishop and Alphonse intended to take good advantage of it.

The entire thing made me sick.

As far as I could see, Alphonse was simply an ambitious man who wanted to climb up the ranks before his time. He had taken the money that he was given and either invested it wisely to see considerable returns or was now using that money and his influence to become a great man.

I hated him. I wanted to kill him. But almost as much as I wanted to talk to the Prince. I wanted to talk to this man. I wanted to find out why. Why had he done this? Why would a priest stoop to this kind of thing? There were and are plenty of ways for an ambitious man to make his way in the world but in the priesthood. I struggled with that.

I wondered if it had been her beauty that had corrupted him, in the same way that it seemed to have driven Erick mad.

Or was it simply that the Prince had found his price. All men have one it is said and I wondered if they had simply found his. It was not a pleasant thought that one.

I had left Alphonse a note a little bit before I was actually able to catch up to him. I was confident of his ability to read but what I wasn't prepared for was just how popular he had managed to make himself in his local area. No sooner had I managed to creep into his house and leave him a note on his desk with a knife driven through it so that it wouldn't be mistaken for just another piece of paper than he had the entire countryside out and hunting for my blood.

I'm not ashamed of saying that I fled. He was promising salvation in heaven in return for my head and as he had spent the year since I had seen him last whipping the surrounding area into a religious frenzy, they were fair falling over themselves in an effort to see me dead.

I had some other things that I could be doing. I still wasn't satisfied as to the proper locations of the Prince and a couple of the guards that had accompanied us. Two of them were still in the Duke's service but I had some leads to hunt down on the other two.

I managed to wait for a month before I turned my horse's head back for him. A whole month waiting for his death. He had resorted to using threats and innocents to protect himself so I had no qualms at all about torturing him to death. I was also concerned that if he were to get more important, what else would he be capable of before I finally managed to catch up with him.

He was still terrified however, even after a month so I had to hunt him in the same way that I would hunt any other kind of monster. I put myself in his shoes which meant that I felt dirty but at the same time I needed to see results.

His followers were still looking for me and if there was ever something to confirm my opinions that this man needed to die then it was visible in his followers. People were neglecting their other tasks... I want to say duties.... to look for me. They were doing this at the urging of the priest and so, the blacksmith wasn't doing his work. Instead he was guarding Alphonse. The hunters weren't hunting game and skinning it for hides.

They were combing the trees and woods, looking for me. The Duke had sent some guards to look after him and they guarded Alphonse in his rectory and his church, both of which had been converted into veritable fortresses so as to keep me out. I even looked into whether or not I could sneak into either and catch Alphonse unprepared before coming to the conclusion that I could... and I could kill Alphonse while doing it. But he would certainly shriek or call for help which would mean that I would end up killing a guard or two on my way out, presuming I survived the adventure at all.

So I settled down to think. The searchers had passed my hiding spot so I was able to camp there in relative comfort and spend some time plotting.

What are the roots of corruption? What are the things that you use to corrupt a man?

Those were the things that I thought to myself.

The most obvious thing was money. But in this case? Alphonse had plenty of money. He was taking in huge sums of money from already taxed peasants. He also had the, not small amount of money that was brought to him by his visitors and other “donations” that more than satisfied his needs. I would later find out that he was spending a large amount of money in bribes in an effort to climb up the hierarchy of the cult of the Sun.

So I discounted money. If he was living in a more...rich area where the cost of living would be higher then I could accept that as well.

But he wasn't.

The next thing that is used to corrupt people then. Power? Influence? He was pursuing these things but they weren't that...He was already well on with them. He was already delivering bribes and talking to whoever they consider the “right” people to be in these kinds of situations. Powerful men and women were already making the time to come and visit him as they passed through the Duke's domain.

So what was left.

I'm afraid the answer was sex.

Regardless of what some people might say, sex is important. There might be some snickering but it is something that defines us, defines all sentient beings. The elves hate humans because of sex. Humans do it all their lives with a relatively high success rate whereas elves do it rarely during a particular period in their lives and their success rate is small. So they hate humans because they are grasping the truth that sooner or later there will be no more room for them because humanity has simply out-bred them. Some elves see this and have made efforts to integrate and breed with humans to ensure their survival. But many simply take solace in their hatred.

Alphonse was definitely not asexual. He had been just as...aroused by the prospect of the helpless princess as any of the other guards. So I reasoned that he would still want this. That he would also look for beauty to satisfy that part of himself.

So I did a bit of scouting around. I wasn't able to ask as many questions as I would have liked for fear that sight of me would result in people seeking my death. I found that there were several young and beautiful people around the area so I watched, and I waited for the opportunity.

I was extraordinarily lucky in many ways that this worked out. If I had seen Alphonse actually assaulting someone I'm not sure I would have been able to wait for another circumstance. I would have waded in, sword swinging and damn what happened next.

It was a farmer's lad that was Alphonse's undoing in the end. I watched them from a distance. As best as I could tell Alphonse had seen the lad while visiting the farmer in an effort to cajole more money or goods out of the father but that happened before I returned to the area. It was like a game of chicken. The most disgusting and reprehensible game of chicken that you can imagine. Alphonse would get closer and closer to the young man. Sometimes he would watch from a distance as the lad was busy tying hay bundles for movement off for fodder for the horses. Sometimes he would get close on some excuse or another, wanting to talk, exchange words or small pieces of advice.

As I watched I began to wonder if Alphonse even knew what he was doing. He was like a moth who had seen the flame. He knew that the flame would burn him but at the same time he couldn't keep himself away.

The lad was young. Muscled from his days working hard at the farm under his father's watchful gaze. Unruly blonde hair under a square jawed face. Blue eyes still showing the sign of innocence by which I mean he was still ignorant of the effect that he had on the local young girls. Just on the cusp of when girls change from being icky into fascinating. It was summer at this point so the lad was working hard, often sweaty and his clothing clung to his body in ways that passing women found interesting.

As did Alphonse as it happens.

I was watching. Always Watching.

Alphonse was never without his guards. Somewhere between two to four men. Only the basics of armaments. Arming jackets and pot helms carrying clubs and hay-forks rather than sword and spear but it wasn't that I was afraid of them. Far from it. It would be laughably easy for me to jump in the middle of them and cut them down like the local farmers would cut down their crops with a scythe. But these men were victims of Alphonse's corruption just as much as the Princess was. Killing them would be just as wrong. If it came to it and it was a choice between them who had chosen to guard Alphonse and the life or innocence of this young lad then I would happily make that choice. But only if I was forced into it.

I waited, and I watched. All the while Alphonse got closer and closer to his target. To his victim.

I never found out if the lad's father began to suspect anything. I did notice that the lad stopped going to the chapel to pray and attend services. I couldn't find out why but he could be seen angrily throwing bales of hay around as if they had done something to offend him.

I guessed that a crisis point was happening.

I watched and I waited.

Alphonse's path took him out to the farm and the lad fair shot across the fields towards the priests party. I wasn't quick enough to hear what was said but he spoke with Alphonse quickly and insistently for a few moments before the farmer bellowed something that I didn't catch. The lad ran off after a rather more hurried exchange with the priest who then walked back down the hill.

I watched, waited and made my preparations.

It started to get dark. There were still some rumours of “yellow-eyed demons” in the area so people thought it was better to be safe than sorry. They finished work and went home, doors were locked and windows shuttered. The more extreme people put lines of salt around the entrances to the homes (a precaution that I always found laughable) and left out saucers of milk. (A thing that only works in a particular corner of the north. Never laugh at this as the threat is very real but as it only works against these things. Do not think it will protect you unless you know it will protect you. No I will not tell you what it protects you from as to speak their name is to draw them to you.) Of the two players, I elected to watch the farm. The lad was innocent. Painfully so and like all who have lost theirs I found that I was driven to protect that innocence. I took up a position and waited.

The sun sank towards the horizon and sure enough. Just as it was seriously beginning to get dark, the shutters on one of the windows began to open. Carefully. Far too slowly they opened and the young man emerged. I dread to think how stuffy and unpleasant it was in that house and he took a moment to enjoy the air before sealing the shutters behind him. He lit a torch and set out. At first he moved quickly, presumably to distance himself from the farm house but then he slowed down to a more normal pace as he left a path between the fields and started to cross some of the pasture land to where there was a barn or shelter of some kind. A simple store house that needs to be built occasionally when it is better that some things are kept sheltered and away from the elements.

There was a light there. Quite a lot of light in fact.

When I was sure that that was where the lad was going, I sped past him towards the building and made my entrance as quietly as I could. What I wanted to do was to sneak in and abduct Alphonse before the lad arrived but I was too slow, or the lad sped up when he saw the building.

I got in and climbed into the roof of the building so that I could watch. My sword was drawn and lay on the beam next to me. There were no signs of any guards. My plan changed. I didn't want to involve the lad if I could possibly get away with it, so I waited.

Alphonse was already there. He had lit several candles which he had set around the place as well as having a large symbol of the everlasting sun. The blatant disregard for fire safety aside, he seemed impatient. On edge as it were.

The lad rushed into the candlelight.

“Sorry I'm late father.” he said a little breathlessly.

“It's alright my son, it's alright. Take a moment to get your breath back.” Alphonse put his hand on the lads shoulder in what I supposed he thought looked like a caring gesture. It made my skin crawl.

The lad nodded and took several deep breaths.

“Now,” Alphonse said after a long moment. “You said that you wanted to talk to me about something.”

He spoke slowly, carefully drawing out every syllable. His tone was low and careful. I guessed that he had practised this in an effort to sound more...priestly, more authoritative.

“Yes father.”

“Come then. Tell me what has you so afraid.”

Alphonse took the boys hand and led him over to a hay bale where they sat. I wondered if it was my imagination that made the distance between Alphonse and the boy seem too close to be proper.

“I'm afraid father.”

“Of what my son?”

“I'm afraid of my father.”

“Why?”

Alphonse had raised his hand, almost to the point of touching the lad's hair or face. I gathered myself to jump down but Alphonse himself changed his mind and stood.

“I...I haven't been able to come to chapel recently.”

“Yes. Your absence has been noticed.” The priest made his voice seem dark and dreadful. “Your soul is imperilled my son. I needs to be seen in the light of the sun so that your sins be cleansed in the light. So no darkness may hide in the corners of your soul.”

“I know that father I know. And I tell Dad all that but he won't let me come to the chapel any more.”

“I see. Does he tell you why not?”

“He says that I have work to do. He says that the harvest needs to be prepared for or none of us will be able to eat over the following year. That we won't be able to pay our taxes or our tithe to the church. He says that we would lose our home if I don't work.”

The lad was getting agitated.

“But I tell him. I do father, I tell him that it doesn't matter if we get kicked off our land if our souls are in peril.”

“You do right my son. We must see to our souls above all other things.”

“I think he might be in league with the yellow-eyed demon.” The boy whispered the words as though he was afraid of the very sound that they made.

“Why is that my son?”

“He keeps us from our worship father. He doesn't let us join in the hunt for that most dark of creatures. He keeps us from our proper duties (he pronounced it doo-tees) to the church and to you father. Why else would he do that?”

“Mmm.” Alphonse lifted his hand to his mouth. “You do right to bring this to my attention my son.”

I watched as a thought struck the priest. “I will do what I can to help you and to help your father but I will need your help to do it. I cannot do it without you.”

“I will do it father.”

“You will?”

“Anything Father. How could I bathe in the sun's eternal light without my father. How can I know true happiness if that same is kept from the rest of my family.”

“You are a good and dutiful boy my son. Come, pray with me now.”

Again, Alphonse took the lad by the hand and led him back into the candlelight. It was warm in the barn and I could see clearly that the lad was sweating. Again, causing his thin, night time clothes to stick to his body. The lad knelt and Alphonse placed his hand upon the boy's head.

After he read through the blessing they started to pray. I say pray but what actually happened was that the boy knelt in the centre of that circle of light while Alphonse walked around him in a circle calling out things for the lad to repeat.

I was not a student of the scripture of the holy sun back then and I cannot remember a lot of it now. The cult of the holy sun has since been absorbed into the cult of personality surrounding the Emperor but I remember thinking that Alphonse was making it up as he went along.

The circles that his foot-steps made changed size almost continuously. He would get closer and closer almost to the point of reaching out for the lad. I would grip my sword and make ready to jump down before he would seem to change his mind and the circle would increase in size.

That poor lad though. He believed so completely that I had no doubt that he was honestly praying for his fathers soul and trying to save that self-same soul from damnation. All the while his “priest” seemed to be feeding off that worship.

I was caught in the same spectacle. It took me a while to see it but see it I did. The entire ritual was sexual in nature. Alphonse was getting closer and closer before moving back and prolonging his pleasure. The sick fuck was actually getting physical pleasure from this. I saw him once. He was so fast that you could barely catch it, it must have been a skill that he was practising that as he walked, beneath his cassock or robe, he would occasionally shake himself, shiver almost. I realised that what he was doing was adjusting his genitalia.

My face must have been horrible. I was gritting my teeth with the effort of not jumping down into the barn. I still didn't want to destroy the lad's innocence.

But then Alphonse jerked. Went rigid and almost shook for a moment before breathing deeply.

“Father?” the lad said. “Are you alright?”

“Forgive me my son. The spirit of the holy sun was upon me.”

I lost my shit.

I managed to do so in a relatively controlled manner but at the same time I knew perfectly well what had happened. The tension in that place, the proximity of a young, beautiful individual being completely in his spell, under his control. All of that had brought him to a climax.

I moved off the ceiling beam and landed on the dirt floor. Two strides later and I drove my fist into Alphonse's stomach. It was a cold fury though, how dare he? Regardless of what you think of religion, what had just happened was wrong. Alphonse doubled over as the breath left his body in a whoosh. I brought my sword pommel down on the back of his head and he collapsed.

The lad looked up from his position of prayer and his moth fell open.

“The demon with yellow eyes.” He whispered.

To his defence I must have been terrifying. A dark figure descending from the ceiling with my yellow Witcher eyes shining in the reflected candlelight. My expression can't have helped. I took a breath to calm myself but the lad left me no time to calm down as he charged me, arms out stretched.

“You killed Father Alphonse,” he bellowed.

There was a moment, just a small moment where I had time to realise that I was flying through the air as he bundled me off my feet.

I was lucky though. He had little training and I was able to roll as we fell so that I ended up on top of him.

“Careful you fool or you'll have us all on fire.” I yelled at him.

I climbed off him and stamped the small flame that was beginning to lick at the hay from where we had knocked a candle over.

He wasn't listening though and bellowed as he charged again. But this time I was ready for him. A half turn and a push sent him staggering away. I had let my sword fall when he had first hit me and I scooped it up with my foot and held it out so that the point faced him.

“I don't want to hurt you boy.”

“You killed Father Alphonse,” he snarled he began to circle me. I kept my sword pointing towards him as he moved. He bent and picked up one of the candles that was still lit and brandished it at me.

“Begone demon. I may not be a priest but I still know the... the exercism.”

I sighed, in what I hoped came across as a very human kind of exasperation. “Flicking my wrist I snuffed the candle out with my sword. “It's pronounced “exorcism” son. It won't work but if it will make you feel better, go right ahead.”

He started to say some words. Put together correctly they might have come to some kind of banishment spell... but I doubt it.

He stopped speaking when Alphonse gave an incredible groan.

“Listen,” I said after a while. “Will you just listen?”

“I won't listen to you demon.”

“Not a demon. Just a Witcher. But regardless. Go and fetch your Dad for me. Tell him everything and then bring him back here.”

“And leave you alone with Father Alphonse?”

“Alphonse and I are old friends.”

“Do you greet all your old friends like that?”

“Only the ones I hate. Listen... Go and fetch your Dad. Tell him he can bring as many men as he likes but I mean him, and you no harm. I promise that I will not harm Alphonse....”

“Father Alphonse,” the boy corrected.

“Oh no,” I let my anger show for a minute. “He is no-one's father.” I took another calming breath. “I will not harm him. I will, however tie him up to wait for your Dads arrival.”

“How do I know you won't kill him in the meantime?”

“You don't. But on the other end of the scale. If I wanted to kill him, do you think you could stop me?”

I was pleased. He was still thinking calmly and rationally despite the fear and anger that he was displaying.

He darted out into the night.

“Take a lantern or something.” I shouted out after him. “You won't do anyone any good if you fall and break your neck while you're running.”

He sheepishly returned, took up a lantern and sped off. I watched the bobbing light for a few minutes.”

“We're alone Al,” I said. You can stop pretending now.”

The priest didn't move.

“Let me make things very clear.” I said after a while. “I hate you with a considerable passion. You did not take up my challenge which means that I have absolutely no qualms about torturing you to death. If you do not wake up and start talking to me I'm going to take one of those candles and pour molten wax into your open eyes.”

Alphonse groaned and tried to sit up.

“Begone demon.” He tried.

“Try harder Al.”

He sat up properly and glared at me.

“What do you want Witcher?” He spat the word Witcher as though it was some kind of ultimate insult.

“What do I want? Interesting question. I dearly want to torture you to death but for now I'm going to settle for tying you up.” I grabbed him by the collar of his cassock and dragged him over to the pillar of the barn where I tied him securely using some of the string that tied together some of the hay bales.

He screamed and yelled throughout the entire process.

“Oh be quiet.” I snapped eventually. “It's not that tight and believe me, I know how to tie someone up. Also if I wanted to hurt you, you would know about it.”

“Is that meant to be reassuring.”

“Not in the least. What it is meant to do is to get you to be quiet for a moment while I work.”

He started screaming for help. I grabbed his arm and elevated it in a direction that nature didn't agree with and he groaned in pain.

“See what I mean?” I let him go and he subsided. I finished his bonds, dragged over a hay bale and sat on it facing him.

“So what do you want Witcher?”

“Your death. But I think that that ship has sailed. So instead I want you to answer a couple of questions.”

“What's in it for me to answer them?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why should I answer them.”

“No reason.”

I stared at him for a long time. At first he was defiant but gradually I saw him begin to shrink in on himself.

“Why?” I asked him

“Why what?”

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

I sighed.

“You know, out of all the people who went with us on the expedition into the valley of Thorns to get the Princes “treasure” you are the one that I can't understand. To be fair it was you and Erick but I know what happened with Erick now. He saw the Princess and lost his mind. He went looking for some actual treasure and instead went mad. That expedition cost him everything.”

“Which one was Erick again?”

I nearly killed him. My hands actually clenched with the desire to close around his throat. I took a couple of calming breaths.

“The other soldiers...” I stopped and swallowed. “The other soldiers were just following orders. I don't know but I think they were just swept up in the entire thing but you.... you must have known why we were going there. You must have known that you were going to perform a marriage ceremony. You must have known that what you did... what we did was wrong. But you did it anyway. I want, I need to know why.”

“I don't expect you to understand.”

“Try me.”