Chapter 60: WE WANT TO TALK

“This is a really bad idea.” Kerrass said as he crouched on the floor, drawing intricate designs with a piece of chalk.

“Well if you've got a better one, I'm ready and waiting to hear it.” I commented as I set out the candles, lighting them and trickling a small amount of wax onto the stone floor to stick the candle down. “I also want to point out that it might be a terrible idea, but it's also your idea. Not mine.”

“That doesn't stop it from being a terrible idea which almost certainly won't work.” He closed his eyes for a moment, his lips moving as he tried to recall something, before bending back to his work.

“Have you come up with a better idea then?” I asked.

“Several actually. But all of them involve being in a tavern, or at your castle,”

“Or a brothel?” I suggested.

“Yes. Or, for preference, a next of arachnomorphs.”

“You can keep that last one.” I said with a smile. I was determined to keep the tone of conversation light and amusing. “I fucking hate Arachnomorphs.”

“This from the man who's marrying a Spider Queen.”

“That's not settled yet.” I retorted quickly. “But yes, that aspect of her is one that I'm not entirely comfortable with.”

“Just one of the aspects?” Kerrass teased.

“One of many. How are we looking?”

“I think we're nearly there.” Kerrass stood back and admired our handiwork. A summoning circle, drawn on the stone floor of the castle's great hall. The King's body had been carefully taken from his place of rest and carried down to the hall before being placed on a stone table that Kerrass had brought up from the store rooms. It had probably been a stone table that had once been used for the slaughtering of the livestock that a castle would need to live off as the surface of the stone was pitted with much wear and many dark brown blood stains that spoke of much horror. It leant the entire thing a macabre kind of atmosphere which was completed with the chalk circle and the candles that had been worked out to be the four points of the compass.

Kerrass added a couple of chalk strokes to a couple of places and stood back again.

“So you're absolutely certain that this isn't necromancy?” I asked.

“Nah, that kind of thing takes a lot more effort and more magical skill than I have. Why? Concerned?”

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“A little.”

“You know that the council of mages that banned Necromancy in the first place has long since been dissolved right?”

“I do know that but that doesn't make me feel any better about the entire situation.”

“No. It's not necromancy. I don't know what it is, other than it's a charm that allows us to see, hear and speak to any spirits that might be in the local area. The presence of the body means that we can speak to his spirit.”

“Is it going to work?”

“Probably. The question is not whether or not we can speak to him. It's how he's going to react to being talked to that's the concern.”

“Filling me with confidence Kerrass.”

Kerrass shrugged before his face went serious. “You oiled your spear?”

“I have.”

“Good. Then be ready. If this goes wrong, don't try to fight them. Just stay out of their way. Parry, don't strike even if you think you have a perfect opportunity. And try to stay in the protective signs that I'm going to be throwing around if this turns nasty.” Thanks for reading on ManaNovel!

“I know Kerrass. I've faced spirits before remember?”

“I know. But this is the spirit of a cursed man. That's why I'm more worried than I would be otherwise.”

“I know that too.” I sighed. “Look, are you sure you want to do this?”

“I can't think of anything else to do. The next thing to try would be to go to what we think might be the Sorceresses tower. But that's a long way off and the Dragon will be on us by that point. We need more information to try and break the curse and I think that this might be the best way to try and do it.”

“Ok then. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

As an interesting side note on Kerrass and my working relationship. I am no longer allowed to be in his line of sight whenever he has to do one of these incantations. One of these rituals. Apparently I make faces, or comment or otherwise do weird things to put him off. I don't understand it because as I'm sure my regular readers will know, I am the very soul of discretion and understanding and would absolutely not make funny faces in an effort to mock my friend when he's doing silly things in overly pretentious voices. That just isn't my style.

I don't care what Kerrass tells you about that.

I got well out of the way as Kerrass sets his steel sword aside and straps the silver one over his shoulder. He takes a couple of deep breaths before swallowing a couple of long draughts from one of the potion bottles at his side. Then he starts to speak and I feel the hairs of the back of my neck stand on end.

It's an odd defence for a body to develop. Why would a body want to warn you of something by having the hairs on the back of your neck stand up? What does that achieve other than to make me feel uncomfortable.

Kerrass had begun chanting. His arms away from his sides with the palms of his hands facing upwards.

It looked like he was praying which, for all I know, is what was actually happening.

There were no lights, no blowing winds or flashes of lightening as accompanies these kinds of things in the more lurid stage presentations when this kind of thing happens. Instead, the image of a man, outlined in a kind of blue-white light gradually began to form in the air above what once might have been his body. He was pacing backwards and forwards in what I guessed to be some kind of agitation although the fact that he was doing so while a clear three feet above the ground didn't seem to matter at all.

Kerrass finished his incantation and let his hands fall to his sides. Just as the candles seemed to snuff themselves out. Long tendrils of smoke reached up from the smouldering candle wicks to flutter in what little breeze there was.

Kerrass took another deep breath. The incantation must have lasted maybe twenty heartbeats and he looked as though he'd been fighting solidly for twenty hours.

“Your Majesty,” he breathes and bowed deeply. Somewhere, someone must have taught him how to do it properly because that bow would have done him credit in the imperial court.

“I know you Witcher.” The voice seemed to come from a long distance, as though spoken through a tube. “I know you and do not like your face.” The accent was pronounced as well and I had to concentrate to understand it. He spoke in a form of elven although it was much changed from the High, scholarly tongue that I had learned at the teachings of my tutors. I have since looked at this and discovered that many of the southern courts adopted Elven as their primary tongue when there hadn't really been a unifying nation to decide as a whole what the language should be. Those varying languages have since been completely absorbed by the Nilfgaardian tongue, as codified by the Nilfgaardian senate in 1102.

“I apologise for that your Majesty but it is the only face that I have.”

“Wit does not become you, wretch.”

“I have been told that as well Your Highness. May I present someone who can speak a bit closer to your station. The right honourable Lord Frederick von Coulthard of the northern realms.”

I stepped forward and made an equally low bow the spirit of the King.

“Majesty.” I began. “Allow me to present myself, I am a scholar from the north and I have come south to seek news of your Kingdom.”

“What business of yours is it what happens in my Kingdom?”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Kerrass back off a bit. He drank deeply from a water flask before drinking another potion. The colour began to return to his face rapidly after that.

“No business.” I answered. “But that your Kingdom suffers under a curse of the blackest sort.” The old language leant itself to the more flowery turn of phrase. “And my companion and I have ventured here in an effort that we might free your Kingdom from said curse.”

“Mmm. You speak well for a man from that northern realm. A realm of barbarians and savages I have been told.”

“They might have been to your perspective Your Majesty. But, if I might make an observation. Your perspective is over a hundred years out of date. Also, I recall similar things being said of you and your neighbours around my Father's breakfast table.” I added a little smile.

Flattery. Kerrass once told me, is vital when talking to a ghost or spirit. Coddle them, because they are sensitive souls at heart and you do not want to make them angry for fear of your life.

I was pleased though. Even in death, the King had a sense of humour. He laughed at my little joke.

“Your humour does you credit young man.”

I bowed at the compliment.

“But why would a northern Lordling concern himself with the affairs of so southern a Kingdom. Your, and my, prejudices not withstanding?”

“No reason Your Majesty, but that my friend and companion asked it of me.”

“This Witcher that accompanies you.”

I could see no sneer on the King's features but I could hear it.

“As you say your Majesty. I would also suggest that I accompany him, rather than he accompany me.”

“Mmm. You could do better you know. A well spoken young man such as yourself.”

“Maybe your majesty. But this man has saved my life more times than I can count. He introduced me to the woman that I will probably marry and saved my family from scandal and disgrace that was not their fault. I owe him a significant part of what I am today and what he has helped me to become.”

I was very good. I managed to completely ignore the expression on Kerrass' face.

“That you speak so well of him elevates him in our eyes. Stand forward Witcher.”

Kerrass did so with another bow.

“You are also a northerner I see.” The King intoned. “Two northern men. One noble of blood and the other of character. What brings you to our court?”

I took a deep breath. This was the part where it started to get really dangerous. “Your majesty cannot have failed to notice that your court seems to have fallen on some hard times of late.”

“My house is not what it was to be sure.”

“We would lift the curse Your Majesty. Your Kingdom has been gone from the world for too long.”

“You speak well young man but I think that you are missing something out. You are not from my part of the world. Why concern yourself with us.”

I took another breath.

“Your daughter Majesty.”

The King seemed to smile a little.

“My daughter? I would not see her married to some northern lord of whom I have not heard before this day.”

“As I say Your Majesty. My word is all but given to another. I speak not of myself...”

“She will not marry a Witcher.” A certain green tinge began to creep into the light.

“Again Your majesty, that is not the manner of things. My companion is here in service to her. Yes he may love her but may not a man love a woman above his station and show his devotion in other ways. I cannot speak for the southern Kingdoms but the North is replete with poems and sagas of such courtly loves, driving and inspiring men to acts that would have been beyond them otherwise.”

I was relieved to see the greenish tinge withdraw from the light. Back to it's pale blue colour.

“You astonish me young man. I was not aware that the concept of courtly love had travelled so far north. Nor had I considered that a Witcher would be one such Knight errant.”

“I assure you Your Majesty that my companion is full of surprises.”

“So why do you summon me?”

“Forgive me Your Majesty. But are you aware of your current predicament?”

“You ask whether I am aware of my death? Yes. Although some hereabouts are unaware?”

“As I say Your Majesty. We would lift the curse.”

The King visibly shook his head. “It is impossible. It cannot be done. Do you not think I have tried everything that could be done?”

“I have no doubt that you did everything that could be done at the time Your Majesty, but now it is more than a hundred years later. Long after the projected initial hundred years of the original curse. Magical theory and knowledge on curses and how to remove them safely has moved on in that period of time. I would even go so far as to say that my companion here would rightly be considered an expert in such matters.”

“Then I charge you to do what you can.” he moved to turn away.

“Your Majesty,” I called. “It is not as simple as that. After all he,” I gestured at Kerrass, “has been doing what he can for many of those intervening years.”

The King returned to view.

“Why do you need my help?”

“I will defer here to the expert.” I bowed and offered the floor to Kerrass who stepped forward with another bow.

“Knowledge your Majesty.” he said.

“Knowledge?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. This curse that affects your country is, by far, the most powerful curse on record. It's not that current Magic users couldn't cast something similar. They certainly have the power but it's more that they haven't. As a result, to combat the curse we need to know as much about the curse as possible. I have never fought a war but I suspect it would be very similar to the way you would prepare yourself to fight a battle. Learning about the opposite general and the make up of his army.”

The King nodded.

“I can recommend any number of people who would know more about the curse. You may ask them anything that you require.”

“If I may your Majesty. They might tell me many things but that is not the reason we are talking to you.”

“Explain. I may be dead but I still have a Kingdom to run. Most, if not all but the most intelligent of my subjects do not believe that they are dead and as such, they look to their King in these trying times.”

“As well they should Your Majesty. But in this case we have come to you directly for a reason.”

“What is that reason?”

“So far, efforts to combat the curse have centred around your daughter. Because the curse was cast on her naming day it has generally been believed that the curse was meant for her.”

“That was what my advisers also believed.”

“We do not think that is the case.”

“Why?”

“Your Majesty, with all due respect to your advisers past and present.” Kerrass made a little bow here. “This curse has been worked on for over a century. We know it's not to do with your daughter because we've been trying to lift the curse on your daughter for all that time. If the curse was cast at your daughter it would have been broken by now.”

“I do not follow your reasoning. Just because it has not been broken does not mean that it will never be broken. It is powerful, complex and all consuming. It must be cancelled with equal power.”

“There are other factors your Majesty.”

“Such as? I warn you that although the curse is important to me, my patience is not limitless.”

I saw a flash of anger cross Kerrass' face and stepped forward before he could say something that would ruin us.

“There is too much hate here Your Majesty.” I said. “For a curse this powerful it would need to have been cast with a hate that would poison the sun itself. Despite all possible prejudice, despite racial barriers, religious barriers or cultural ones. If you show a young baby to any human being then it is an impossible amount of hatred that has been levelled at your daughter. That kind of hatred needs time to fester.”

The King seemed to gaze at me for a long time.

“I remember being as naïve as you once, northerner. It is a nice world in which you live where such things are impossible but I assure you. The hatred is real and palpable.”

“Indulge us anyway Your Majesty.” Kerrass had swallowed his earlier burst of anger it seemed. “You have nothing to lose and much to gain by the answering of our questions. For your daughters sake if not for your own.”

The dead have no body language to speak of, no eyes to read or faces to examine. But I thought I saw the Witcher's barb strike home.

“Very well. Ask away.”

“Tell us about the Sorceress who cast the curse.” Kerrass spoke, “We have examined the history books and the books of the time and we can find little mention of her. We do not even know her name for certain.”

“She did not have a name or at least she never gave us one. She came to our Kingdom, unlooked for and unannounced to take up residence in one of our former border towers. The place had fallen into disuse and had been abandoned to nature as our border had expanded beyond that point in my father's time. We received word that there was an unusual glow coming from the tower during the night, some villagers had seen it and sent word to us. We sent heralds that went unanswered and eventually asked a Sorceress friend of the realm to investigate the matter.

“Our friend told us that a Sorceress of unusual power had taken up residence in the tower as she required solitude and privacy for her experiments.”

“This tower would be the fourth border fort. The High Crag?” I asked.

“Yes. If you already knew the answer then why did you ask it?” An edge of irritation had crept into the King's voice.

“It is the nature of scholars to seek surety Majesty. Forgive me this foible of mine.”

The King grunted.

“If she had no name, what did you call her?” It seemed that it was Kerrass' turn to jump into the gap in an effort to forestall disaster while talking to the spectral King.

“She called herself “Draig ddyn Hardd” when we could speak to her and pressure her on the subject as she needed to be announced to the court b the herald. She seemed to like the idea and that was the name she chose.”

“The name sounds elvish.” I commented.

“We thought so to at first but she seemed scornful of the idea that she had anything to do with the elves. Eventually we were able to strike up something of a relationship with her.”

“What was she like?”

“She was an astonishing woman. Completely unlike anyone else that had ever been met. She was...Sharp. She was the kind of person who says what she thought without pause for consideration of politics or the persons feelings. She was the kind of person who you would invite to a party when you didn't like the other guests. She was always stellar company, full of humour and wit but that wit was wicked and barbed in nature. I once saw her in the company of a puffed up idiot of a visiting Count from somewhere to the north. He was a stuck up man who looked down on us from the south.

“Like all Sorceresses, she was a striking woman. Intensely beautiful and the Count was trying to make moves on her. She absolutely demolished him until he was the laughing stock of the entire party and he did not realise what was happening.

“She was a difficult woman to like but a lot of fun to be around and watch from a distance.”

“What service was it that she provided to you that you gifted her this fort? This...High Crag?” I asked.

“That business is a matter of state and not relevant to the curse that she later cast.” The King was getting angry and defensive again.

I had to bite my tongue hard there. I so desperately wanted to tell this man that it might have been very important.

“Why was she not invited to the Princesses naming day?” Kerrass asked.

“She had been locked in her tower for so long and without contact that we simply thought she had left as quietly and abruptly as she had come.”

I exchanged glances with Kerrass. If the King had been alive he would have been squirming in discomfort.

“Why did she hate the Princess so much?” Kerrass asked.

“We don't know. We asked. We begged her to reverse the spell. I offered her my crown in return for lifting the curse but she refused. The Queen tried to speak to her. Her fellow Sorceresses tried to speak to her. But she refused. She was... Malevolence personified. Venom and hatred dripped from her speech.”

Kerrass and I looked at each other. I shrugged. This was the impasse. Again. He was giving us the official line.

“May I speak frankly our Majesty?”

“Of course.”

“If this were any other curse Your Majesty, my course would be clear.”

“What would that course would be?”

“I would tell you that you are the one that is cursed. I am not cursed and I can, and will, just walk away from this place without a backward glance. I would do all of these things here but I owe your daughter too much. But I owe you nothing. You are cursed. Your Kingdom is cursed. Your daughter lies in her coffin. The same coffin in which she has slept for over a hundred years. The original cure of True Love's kiss does not work. We know this because many people have tried.

“We know that this is because she is not the one that is cursed. The curse was cast at you Your Majesty, not your daughter.”

“I have heard enough of this.” The King's voice tried to override Kerrass'.

“With respect Your Majesty, you haven't.” Kerrass' own voice rose to meet the King's. “This curse destroyed your nation. That amount of hatred is impossible to reconcile with “not being invited to a party”. So what happened between the two of you?”

“I've had enough...”

“WHO IS THE PRINCESSES MOTHER?” Kerrass thundered.

“How dare you?”

“We found the adoption papers Your Majesty,” I put in, “hidden in the notaries office.”

“You are the father Your Majesty,” Kerrass put in. “Who is the mother?”

“I've heard enough. GUARDS!”

“Crap,” Kerrass muttered drawing his sword.

The King's spirit vanished before our eyes and a green glow crept up around the walls as six Wights appeared out of the darkness.

“That could have gone better,” I commented.

But then the Wights were on us and we were fighting for our lives.

Movement was the essential thing. Just keep moving, stay away from them, try and draw one away from the rest of the pack so that you can fight or banish that one and cut down their number.

Wights would be fascinating creatures if I had a bit more time to be able to look at them and spend some time looking at the thing. But when you destroy them then they have a tendency to dissolve into a small pile of magical dust. This is not too surprising really as they essentially appear out of nowhere. I have seen many of these things before, in ones and twos. I've even been responsible for fighting one or two of them myself. Never in this number.

Apparently they come from the spirits of dead people getting angry enough to be able to manifest in the real world. Often they look a lot like walking corpses that have been animated by green light rather than anything else. These six moved a little heavier and wore something that looked a lot like armour. Beyond that, they all had the long, thin, blade like weapons that many wights manifest. One or two of them also seemed to be carrying their gravestones on their backs, which is also not uncommon.

But I didn't have time to worry about that now. I registered the appearances at the time and tried to make some notes. But at the time I was just trying to stay alive rather than make scientific and accurate reports about what they looked like.

My tutors will be so disappointed.

You see another problem about wights is that they can disappear and re-appear at will. There is a small moment where they seem disorientated after they reappear. But still. As they often reappear behind you or too far away, you can only really take advantage of this if they just happen to reappear right next to them.

Which is rare.

I didn't have time to think. I didn't really have time to plan anything either. I just had to move.

Kerrass had cast one of his signs at the floor which provided some protection. We stood back to back in that circle for maybe ten seconds before the sheer pressure of numbers meant that we were forced to move. I do know that in that initial flurry, Kerrass had managed to mark one of them which had collapsed to dust at his feet.

Then, as we had rehearsed and practised so many times, we split up and ran, still in the room, but we were trying to split them up, to isolate them.

I didn't expect to take down any of those wights. But if I could just distract one, maybe two of them then that was one or two wights that Kerrass wouldn't have to worry about.

They give off a kind of scream when you destroy them. Destroy is probably the wrong word. Disrupt is possibly closer to the truth. It's not a cry of pain, rather it's a call of...disappointment. A cry of stymied rage.

I heard one on the other side of the room and knew that this meant that Kerrass had reduced their number even further.

I risked a quick glance over to his end of the room and it looked like three of the four remaining wights were at the point of surrounding him. I turned and ran, sprinting across the room, hurdling the King's corpse and swept a blow through the back of one of the wights that were hemming him in.

I was rewards when, two seconds after my blow I heard another sound of a wight being destroyed.

I didn't see it because I was still running but Kerrass later told me that two of the wights had turned to face me and he was able to skewer one of them.

Three left. I risked a glance behind me and ducked quickly as a blade would nearly have decapitated me. I swung my spear quickly in a flat strike and the wight fell back. Kerrass was at the other side of the hall fending off two wights. He didn't look tired and he was pressing one of the two hard while having used a blast of air to send one backwards.

I thrust at my wight a couple of times, two, short strikes to drive it back.

It pulled back and vanished.

At the same moment I dived and rolled. An ingrained response that Kerrass had spent a not small amount of time drilling in to me.

Not for the first time, it saved my life as the wight had reappeared behind me. As I rolled to my feet I was astonished to find one of Kerrass' Wights directly in front of me. Without thinking I stabbed forward, the thing screamed and dissolved into the dust at the floor.

Such random strokes of luck are common when you fight wights and you have to capitalise on them whenever you can.

Two left and it was all but over.

Kerrass was able to push the one wight to making a mistake and destroyed it. He gestured me behind him and made short work of the remaining one.

“Ok.” I said, leaning on my spear and breathing heavily. “That could have gone a lot better.”

“You hurt?” Kerrass was carefully cleaning his own sword. I imagined that he was doing it a little pointedly and suggesting that I should see to my own weapons. I took out a rag and wiped the oil residue from the blade.

“Maybe a bruise or a cut from throwing myself across the floor a couple of times.”

Kerrass nodded and gazed out over the main hall. The casket containing the sleeping Princess was still off at one end. The fight hadn't got close to her.

“You did well. But we didn't really find anything we didn't know.”

“That's not quite true.” I said, wanting to reassure him. “We got confirmation which is sometimes just as important as getting the original information.”

“I suppose so, but what do we do now?”

“Well I've been thinking about that.”

“And?”

“You know how you said trying to talk to the King was a bad idea?”

“Yes.”

“I have a worse idea.” I grinned at him.

Later that day, we were stood at the top of the castle. It was not the most stable of surfaces and we had tied ourselves on for what little stability we could find. The rather optimistic view that if we fell, or jumped off, or the tower collapsed underneath us then we would be safe.

That was of course if the tower being unstable was the only problem we had.

Kerrass was hammering in a large spike into the side of the tower wall.

“You're right you know.”

“What's that?” I passed him the largest single white piece of cloth that we could find in the castle and he started to hang it from the spike that I think had been made out of some kind of dagger.

“This idea is worse,” he straightened up and passed me another corner of the cloth so that I could attach it nearby.

“But it's such a good idea.” I attempted to put some good cheer into my voice but it didn't sound as though Kerrass was convinced.

“Don't get me wrong. I suspect it's one of the few things that hasn't been tried before in the large amount of time that the curse has been going on. In that it's certainly a new idea.”

“I was going for novel.” I suggested.

“But at the same time. I can't help but think that the only thing the Dragon is going to think when seeing a large white cloth. Even if the dragon is intelligent enough to know what the flag means, which is a big 'if' by the way. I just think that the most that the Dragon is going to think is. “Ooh, kindling,” followed by, “and here's dinner.””

“I will admit that I'm hoping that curiosity will win out at the end of the day.”

“Curiosity? Cat's are curious. Dragons have the luxury of being able to flatten the area and then search through the rubble to find what they were looking for.”

“Ah well.”

I took a flask from my belt and drank some of the vodka that it contained. I felt the need for a small amount of courage.

“Here it comes,” Kerrass commented.

It was true, flying low over the treetops, a little bit below the level that we were standing at. It was huge, immeasurably big. At the moment all I could see, or rather, all I could really take in was the vast wingspan and the small arrow-head shaped head that was setting fire to the tree tops.

“Well Kerrass,” I said as the thing came closer and closer. “I just wanted to say....”

“Likewise Freddie, Likewise. Thanks for trying. It means a lot.”

I laughed, “No Kerrass. I was going to say that if it kills me. Could you tell everyone that I died heroically. That I was saving people from the dragons jaws or something rather than standing up here and inviting it to eat me alive.”

Kerrass stared at me for a long moment, then he grinned.

“This is pretty stupid isn't it.”

“Hardly the heroic ending for the saga poets to sing about.”

The Dragon was much closer now. Jet black it was and I could make out it's eyes, They were glowing green and I could see a kind of steam growing up from them as though the eyes themselves were hot.

“For what I am about to receive.” I breathed.

I shut my eyes and started waving my arms around.

“WE WANT TO TALK,” I bellowed up into the air. Kerrass' voice rose up to join mine. I think we managed to get the words out twice coherently as well as shouting them out in incoherent babbles.

I had my eyes closed but I didn't need to see the dragon.

I could feel it.

Huge. it rent the air as it past through. It was followed by an almost thunderclap noise. Vast wings buffeted at us and we staggered. My eyes flew open out of reflex as I felt myself beginning to stagger. The huge vastness, the overwhelming size of it.

It was beautiful and terrible at the same time.

It was awful in that inspired awe.

It was Amazing in that inspire amazement.

It was terrific in that it inspired terror