Chapter 53: Kill him for me Witcher

A guard I recognised as Matthes rode up from the back.

I was behind a tree nearby, up the hill from where the Prince was.

“Problem your Highness?”

“Probably not. Probably just my paranoia.”

“It's not paranoia if they're really after you My Prince.”

The Prince laughed.

“Let's get it cleared then.”

“Yes Your Highness.” Matthes gestured and two men moved forward from the main group to do their jobs.

I waited until those two men would be well out of the way.

I stood up, stretched a little bit to get the stiffness out of my knees and elbows. In truth I was astonished that no-one noticed me. I checked my gear and then stepped out.

“I'm afraid it wasn't just paranoia, Prince Bertrand.”

Swords sang as they were drawn by the other men on their horses.

“Witcher?” The Prince said. “I thought you didn't hire as an assassin.”

“I don't,” I called down drawing my sword with a flourish. “But I am here to kill you.”

“Really? That's a shame. I will admit to rather liking you once upon a time. Matthes?”

“My Prince?”

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“Kill him.”

“Yes My Prince. Another gesture and the remaining four men dismounted. I was standing up the hill from them and they couldn't have charged me on horse back as easily. When they dismounted they moved forward to surround me.

“Nothing personal Witcher. I liked you too.” Matthes said easily.

“Feels pretty personal to me.” I said easily enough. Then I lifted my arm and shot him between the eyes with the crossbow that I had kept hidden by my side.

I try not to use my crossbow wherever possible. I am always concerned that it would become a crutch of some kind. I keep to the traditional tools of sword and sign as they will always be to hand whereas once a bolt is fired then it is done and if it misses then it is a problem. But sometimes, it serves it's purpose.

I had wanted to kill Matthes with a blade. I had been looking forward to it but a death is a death and at least he knew it was me before he died.

He spluttered a bit. He seemed surprised even though he must have died instantly. He staggered for a moment but then I had no time to worry about it.

The bolt was shot but the crossbow was still a weapon. I threw it hard into the face of the man on my left.

Threw a good hard Aard sign into the first man to charge me which punched him off his feet. Matthes was still sputtering and staggering.

The thrown crossbow had hit home and the man was yelling with a broken nose. Thanks for reading on ManaNovel!

The fourth man rushed in... too fast for his own good. If he had kept me at bay until “broken nose” had had time to gather his wits or until the fallen man had climbed to his feet. Or if he had waited until the two men clearing the tree had been able to reinforce him.

But he didn't wait. He charged and I could simply sidestep and rip his throat out with a quick blow of my sword.

The fallen man was climbing to his feet. Broken nose was trying to clear the tears that had come to his eyes and was snarling with rage. Don't judge him too harshly. Broken noses hurt and tears are involuntary if you can still weep them it's an involuntary reaction.

I kicked the man who was climbing to his feet onto his back and stabbed down into his throat. He tried to scream but the blood choked him and it came out as a splutter as the blood fountained up the blade.

Matthes finally crashed to the floor.

The Prince had yelled something and the remaining two men charged towards me. Broken nose swung at me, he was still half blind. I wanted to spare him. He was in no position to fight for a moment or two yet and although I found that I wanted to spare him. I couldn't afford the pity.

I killed him as quickly and painlessly as I could in the circumstances, with a cut to the groin cutting the femoral artery. He fell to the ground and I finished him with a quick stab to the throat.

The two men who were moving the tree came to charge me but one tripped up.

They were rushing. That was the problem. If they had come together they might have had more luck. The remaining man charged me with a thrust that I could read a mile off. I knocked the blow aside with a cross-body parry and drove my sword pommel into his chin. He staggered back and my reverse stroke nearly decapitated him.

The last man was whimpering as he closed with me. He fought fairly well for a moment or two but he was a cavalryman first and foremost. His stance was too wide. Too solid for groundwork.

Three parries and it was all done. He was off balance and I struck across his body. Twice. Hard and sharp. He had time to fall and realise that his innards had fallen into his lap. He looked up at me and there was such terror in his eyes. I cut at the back of his neck. It was all I could do for him.

I turned to face the Prince. He was smiling although I couldn't read it.

He had his hands up, keeping them well away from his sword.

“I once read stories about Witcher's skills with swords. I had wanted to see it first hand when we travelled together but... There was something missing in the way you fought those monsters Kerrass. But seeing that. Six men.”

He took a deep breath and blew it out.

“Six men, no slouches either. All of them have killed others in my service.”

I had recovered my breath by then. “I only wanted to kill Matthes.”

“I know. I had heard that someone was coming for us.”

“Draw your sword Lord Prince.”

“Not yet.” he held his hands up in an effort to be placating. “Soon though. I promise.” He was backing towards the carriage.

I raised my sword towards him.

“If there's someone in there to help you. A few more to kill won't make much difference.”

“I know that, I know.” He took another breath. “I have no right to ask anything of you Witcher. Indeed I am only hoping that you won't just kill me when I haven't got my sword drawn. I am also hoping that you won't just decide that you need to take steps to prevent any witnesses from escaping.”

“What do you want highness?”

“Two of the horses and to let them go.”

“Let who go.”

“My treasures.”

“Oh fuck off highness. You once said that your treasures were in the Thorn forest.”

“And they were, in a manner of speaking.”

He had backed up to the door of the carriage.

“Just don't kill them Witcher. I will fight you if that is your wish. Just don't kill them.”

He opened the door.

I watched as two women came out. I didn't know them. They were large, healthy, hearty women. I suspected they were from peasant stock or at least they were dressed like that.

But I wasn't really looking at the women in question. It was the small bundles that they were carrying.

“Oh fuck off.” I breathed.

“Well done,” the prince said to them both. “Well done in keeping them quiet. That can't have been easy.”

“They're good little treasures.” said one. The Prince had the good grace to wince at the words. “They just want to eat and sleep. We haven't had a peep out of them 'ave we?”

The other one shook her head.

“See Witcher. My children. Four months old now and as beautiful a pair of children you will never find on this earth.”

I stared at him in horror.

“So this was your plan.” I said. I was aghast, horrified and furious beyond my capacity to deal with. “This was your plan. To have children with her.”

The prince nodded.

“That was our plan. The one thing that the King was unable to do was to provide the Kingdom with an heir. An heir beyond any possibility of illegitimacy. A son, with a proven value of fertility. Preferably with a wife and children of his own. I needed a wife and that wife needed to have children.”

“But all the eligible women were taken.”

“Not really. I am still a powerful and wealthy man.” He still had his eyes on me. Keeping his distance and his hands away from his sword hilt. He was moving though to separate himself from his children. I assumed that this was so that I would have to make a choice between targets. If I went for the children then he could attack me or flee and if I attacked him then the women themselves could flee. “But to marry me, any woman and their father would have chosen a side. Everyone wants to be on the winning side you see. No-one wants to make a mistake.”

“So you found a bride.”

“I found a bride. She was still alive and still capable of giving me an heir. And even better than that.... She was royalty.”

“You bastard.”

“You have to admit. It was a good plan. So how about it Witcher, you gonna let my children live?”

I sighed. “No. Not your children. But hers?” I shook my head. I felt as though I was under some kind of spell. Not unlike what happens when we used to practice Axii on each other. “She wouldn't want me to kill her children.”

“Thank you Witcher. Thank you.”

“Fuck your thanks.” I was struggling to stay angry. I had to remind myself of what I had seen the prince do. Trying to reconcile the man that had ***d a sleeping princess with the man in front of me who, to all intents and purposes, was a loving father. “What are their names?”

“The boy is called Stefan. For my father and according to the legend, her father as well. She is called Rose.

“For her.”

I nodded. “I will tell her when she wakes up.”

He nodded to me and then gestured. The two women took to their heels and fled.

I still had my sword out and pointing at him.

“I would not have stopped them from taking a horse or two.”

The Prince grinned. “The horses terrify them. War horses after all and wet-nurses are chosen for the quantity and quality of their milk. Not their bravery.”

“Oh I don't know. They could have fled when the blood started to flow.”

“You are not wrong. Ah well.”

He drew his sword.

“You ready?”

We closed slowly. Carefully. He was using a one handed long sword, broad bladed and I guessed that it would be heavy for use on horseback. There was room on it for an extra hand around the pommel but he seemed to wield it confidently so I guessed that he would be conditioned for it. I also guessed that he would try and take us amongst the trees where his slightly shorter sword would have an advantage.

We were hesitant at first as we weighed each other up. He had seen my skills but I had not seen his.

He was good. Very good. Far better than I gave him credit for.

The first few exchanges came to nothing before we pulled back from each other for a moment.

He grinned a little and flexed his shoulders. I was concentrating and worryingly tired although I didn't think that that would be much of an advantage for him. He had been riding and riding hard for some time.

“I don't suppose that now would be a good time to try and offer you a bribe would it?” The prince asked.

“You don't have enough money on you.” I retorted.

“True. Money's heavy.” He charged then but I was expecting it.

He really was good. The fight started to range about a bit. He did indeed try to take us off the road and in amongst the trees. Most sword fights are over quickly. It is only in the case of similar levels of skill, training and conditioning that duels go on for longer. But this was taking a while.

I had made several mistakes. Firstly I had assumed that he would want the fight to be over quickly due to the fact that he was undoubtedly being pursued. The second was that I had assumed that he wouldn't be that good. I had taken him for a politician rather than as a fighter.

But he was good. Really good.

Much to my horror I realised that I was enjoying myself.

Then I realised something else. He was delaying me. He was trying to tie me up. We broke apart, both of us breathing hard.

“I win Witcher.” he grinned at me.

“You know. I really am not going to kill your children.”

“Huh. Who would have thought it.” He struck at me then. I parried and he kicked out at me in an effort to knock me flat. I spun out of the way using the spin to cut towards him. He jerked back and my blade swung towards him. He tried to lift his own sword into a cut but I was too close for that to work and was able to kick out at his hands where he was holding the sword. He dove and rolled away.

When he came to his feet he was some way down the hill. He sucked at his knuckles.

“Fucking hell Witcher that hurt.”

“It was supposed to.”

He leant against a nearby tree. I had no intention of going down to him as I had the high ground for now and he was reluctant to come up for the same reason.

“I'm knackered.” he said. “Mark, remember Mark?”

“I remember Mark.”

“He once told me that when two knights are fighting to the death they are generally allowed to ask for one break apiece. A rest to get their breath back and neither would look down on the other for doing so. Apparently it's a rule of chivalry or some such nonsense. He started to get into that kind of thing when we got back. So how about it Witcher? There's clean water and some food on the carriage. I promise I won't run.”

“Why not? In Mark's memory if nothing else.”

The prince nodded, sheathed his sword and we started climbing up the hill back towards the carriage.

“I hadn't realised how far we'd come.” he commented.

I smiled. I hated the prince. I really really hated him. But he was impossible to dislike. I was careful to walk with him in front of me but I don't think it even occurred to him to try and stab me in the back. He disappeared inside the coach and came back triumphantly holding a water-skin. He lifted it up and swallowed a good amount of it into his open mouth.

“Gods and Goddesses above and below but that's good.”

He threw it to me.

“Careful.” He went on. “It's fucking cold.”

I grunted something non-committal. But it was indeed cold.

“Ah Witcher. I have to thank you you know.”

“Thank me?”

“Yes. I haven't felt this good in ages. There you are, trying to kill me and here I am trying to prevent that by method of killing you. It's simple direct and easy. No moral quandaries no thoughts or politics lie at the back of it. Just two men trying to kill each other. Face to face like.”

“I suspect that politics might have had something to do with it.”

“But that's just it. Politics caused the entire situation. But here and now. Just in the moment. It's simple. I'm trying to think of the last time that was true and I honestly can't remember a time.”

“Maybe when you were raping the princess.” I was trying to be harsh.

“Honestly? No, not even then. Even when making love...”

“Hey,”

“Alright then, to soothe your troubled....whatever. When taking my pleasure...Does that suit your sensitive nature Witcher?”

“Fuck you.” I said it without power and he ignored it.

“Even when taking my pleasure I am always worrying. Why is the girl doing this. Does she have a knife under her pillow, are their assassins waiting for the moment of climax when I'm helpless, to burst in the room. I have never been drunk. You know that? Never been drunk. I've never been relaxed enough to get to the point where I would be comfortable enough to get drunk.”

He laughed.

“You know what? If you weren't so obviously intent on my death I would suggest that we go down into a town, get pissed off our faces. That's what I want to do right now. Honest to the Moon and the Sun. I want to march into a Tavern and then drink it. Preferably in the company of a friend. Would it surprise you to know that right now, while having this conversation you are as close a friend as I can immediately think of?”

“And I hate you.”

“Precisely so but at least you are honest about it. You have a reason. A simple reason that is based on your own moral code. Not a thing that is dictated by a King or a Duke or a relative. You made that decision. Just you. Anyway, where was I.”

“Drinking the tavern.”

“Yes. All of it. Then I would march into an alchemists shop and say. “I want drugs. All the drugs that are going to make me feel like a glowing god of men. Then I would march into a brothel and make use of several of their richest and most amazing women. And men too. Fuck it, try anything once.”

He sighed happily.

“I don't suppose you'd go for that would you Witcher?”

“Afraid not.”

“Damn. Can't blame a guy for trying though eh?”

“What happened highness?”

“It turns out that I love my children.”

“No I meant...”

“I know what you meant.” He passed the wineskin over and his eyes stared into the middle distance. “I wasn't the only one with the plan. We made the plan and we went into the thorns where I impregnated the Princess. We kept it quiet in the hope that no-one would know and realise our scheme. We went back eight and a half months later as we had been advised by a Wizard who read the signs for us. We were there two days before she gave birth. We had a doctor with us and he says that he had never seen anything like it. They just plopped out in minutes. It was like she knew how to give birth. As we watched, the stretch marks, injuries and tearing vanished and she was asleep. She never made a sound. I looked down at my children and then.... I just loved them. They were tools that I was supposed to use in my rise to power but I loved them.”

He sighed.

“Goddess but she was beautiful though. We left quickly after that. They had to force me to let go of those children so that they could feed.” he laughed at his own memory. “Then we made a mistake. I rushed off to the King with the marriage testimony from that dirty slime-ball Alphonse. Did you kill him by the way? I heard that he disappeared.”

“I did.”

“Good. That man was a cunt.”

“Nah.” I said, finding a smile on my face. “A cunt has warmth, depth and feeling. It is the avenue through which life passes and can give pleasure to both it's owner and another. Alphonse was less than that.”

The Prince stared at me in horrified astonishment before tears of laughter started to run down his face.

“Oh Witcher,” he managed. “Oh that's brilliant. I'm going to have to remember that. Warmth, depth and purpose.”

He convulsed in laughter again and I could no longer help myself. His laughter was infectious. I hated him and I hate him still but I liked him. I chuckled along with him. Several minutes later he was still giggling.

“It's true though. The great sun could have made some perfectly good earth worms out of that skin.” He said after a while. “But I took that to the King and said look. Here is your heir. Your line would be assured. Just name me for the crown. But the wily old man would not be bought. He waited. Now that I think about it. He was always just playing for time. Oh fuck...”

he suddenly raged and turned and started kicking the carriage wheel.

“Sun scorch him. Sun scorch the lot of them the pasty faced, no pulse, withered old, twig sticked penis bastards.”

His rage left him abruptly when the wheel rim splintered and broke.

“I wasn't the only one with the idea of having heirs. I had one rival. A main rival who was also at court and we spent our entire time raging at each other. Slinging barbs at each other and manoeuvring around each other to make the other fall. But neither of us had thought of cousin Henrik. “Henrik the stupid” we used to call him but as it turned out, he was playing a longer game than the rest of us put together. The thing about it is he looks stupid. He's an ugly...troll of a man. Slope browed, big broken nose. Large hairy hands. He has a large, thick beard to hide the scars of a childhood disease and he looks stupid. But it turns out he had us.

“Even as children he was playing us. Pretending to be the big dumb one. He married, quietly and in secret. She pumps out children like there's going to be a shortage and all the while he's building an army. The biggest that this part of the world has seen. Other nobles start to realise that he could just roll over them. He goes to them and then carefully doesn't threaten them. But they hear those threats. They hear him tell them that they can either be on his side or dead because his forces would just eat them. Then they join up. Promise sons and daughters to his own children and suddenly there's a vast alliance directed against the two of us.

“By now my main rival will be dead. You see my Father. My own fucking father has joined up with Henrik. He wrote me. He tells me to flee. To bring the children back. I'm promised a bride who will give me more children.”

I realised that he was crying. I measured the distance between us and decided that he couldn't just kill me abruptly and so I felt safe enough to turn away. I didn't want to watch his grief and I didn't want to feel sympathy.

“But I know the truth. I'll get through the castle door and my children. My babies will become conveniently sick and die and I will be married to Henrik's sister. Poor lass. Ten years younger than me. Last time I saw her she was still playing with dolls in the nursery.”

“So what were you going to do.”

“Exile. I have friends to the north. They would keep me. Father is a canny bastard though. I fear his assassins more than I do Henrik's. Henrik doesn't need assassins. He can just ask for a death and people will fall over themselves to give it to him. I would do anything for my children Witcher.”

I nodded.

“I don't understand that.” I said “But I can sympathise with it. Would you hate me if I told you that you deserve what happened to you?”

A spasm of anger crossed his face but then he calmed. “No, no I don't think so. I want to though. We're trained to believe that we are better than the common folk. That we are high powered men and women in our castles but right now I envy them, and you, your simple lives.”

I nodded.

“Did your father know?”

He wiped his eyes.

“Know what?”

“Did your father know what you were going to do to the Princess?”

The prince smiled nastily.

“Are you going to kill him too?”

“I might.”

“Promise.”

“I make no promises.”

He nodded. “Well. You'll forgive me Witcher if I try and take your vengeance from you.” He pushed off from the carriage and walked a little way off. He drew his sword and his dagger in his left hand holding it below his fist so that he could rake with it, or parry. He was trying a new tactic. One that I had never seen work.

There is not enough strength in that grip to parry a good strike.

“Did your father know?” I insisted. I redrew my sword being ready to defend myself in case he just rushed me.

He grinned again.

“You have killed me Witcher. I can't fight much more. It's not just the fight so far, or the ride although those things are factors. I'm just too tired. Tired of everything.”

I started to move forward but his sword moved to block my path.

“So I thought I would deprive you of your vengeance.”

He dropped his sword, grabbed the dagger in both hands and shoved it into his own guts. He staggered, groaned and collapsed to his knees before falling to his side.

I dropped my sword and rushed over to him.

He was still alive. “If I hadn't *** her Witcher? If I'd met you in another way. Would we have been friends?”

“Damn you Prince.”

He smiled again.

“We would wouldn't we.” He laughed. Before coughing up some blood.

“Yes, we would have been friends. I think. And I hate you for that. You're just too likeable. Too charming.”

“I know. I'm sorry Witcher.”

He was weeping again. “At least they got away. The babies I mean.”

I nodded. “Did your father know Prince? Did your father know what you were going to do?”

Another laugh. There was blood in his mouth and he choked.

“Know? It was his plan. He ordered it.”

He spat again.

“Kill him for me Witcher.”

“I will. But not for you.”

“For her?”

“Yes, for her.”

“I'm not sure she would approve of you killing her father in law.”

I felt my mouth twitch. “I'm not sure she would have approved of being **** in her sleep either but there we go.”

He laughed again.

“It's taking a bloody long time for me to die.”

“You botched it.” I told him. “Should have gone for the throat and then you'd have bled to death in a minute or so. You would certainly have been unconscious quicker.

“Heh. Couldn't even kill myself right.”

His eyes widened at the pain as the shock left him. He groaned horribly and tried to pull the knife out. He didn't make it though and he died, choking on his own blood.

I stared down at him for a long time. Then I found his sword and put it in his hands, arranging things so that it looked as though it might have fallen. I took the dagger out and stabbed him with my own dagger in the same wound in an effort to hide the fact that he had killed himself. I cleaned his dagger and put it back in his sheath.

I took some valuables from the bodies in an effort to make it look like a bandit attack. I found that I wanted people to think that it was assassins or a bandit attack. I wanted people to think he had died fighting.

But that left me with another name.

Someone else who needed to die.