Chapter 78: Empress' brutal opinion

Take a deep breath in through the nose.

Hold it and count to three.

One

Two

Three

Blow the same air out through your mouth. Do it hard and explosively. Repeat this process.

It's an old exercise. Long term readers will know that I have used this exercise before in an effort to keep my head before completely losing my mind. It's one of the very first things that Kerrass taught me all that time ago. Apparently what this does is cause exactly the right amount of air to flood the body in order to fight off adrenaline when that adrenaline is not needed or wanted.

It works as well. Try it, next time that you're having a fit of temper or want to commit a scientific experiment wherein you test exactly how much force and from what angle to strike in which to force someone's head through a table.

I was employing it then.

We watched the Empress be crowned, the four of us craning our necks and looking around for Francesca. We must have been the only people there not looking at the Empress herself as Lady Yennefer placed the crown upon her head. Instead, as we all rose to witness the Empress being crowned, a number of small, pale but above all polite young men in black came to us and beckoned the four of us to follow them at a time that we wouldn't be noticed leaving.

We were lead through a side door where we were met by Lord Voorhis who smiled at the four of us apologetically. None of us spoke. I don't know what the other three, Sam, Emma and Laurelen were thinking but I could feel my brain running through lots of different thoughts. So fast that I couldn't concentrate on any single one of them. All that I kept remembering was that old breathing exercise that Kerrass had taught me.

Eventually Mark joined us. Equally as bewildered and looked at the four of us questioningly. He managed to catch my eyes and I shook my head. Was it only in my imagination that he paled or was it his illness making it's presence felt.

We were in the servants corridors. A place where normally we would have no business being and it was frantic with activity. Men and women running around, sometimes at full tilt in a variety of regalia, colours and uniforms all with that very special look that suggested that the entire world would collapse if they were kept from their particular mission. The noise was spectacular and I just had enough time to marvel at the Elven architecture that kept this constant noise from the other people in the castle.

Lord Voorhis beckoned for us to follow him.

It was not lost on me that we were also under guard. Three very large soldiers in the faceless black armour of the Imperial guard followed with us. Sam and I exchanged looks.

“Lord Voorhis,” Sam began, “Could you...”

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“No talking please,” Voorhis snapped quickly but without anger. “Forgive me, things need to be done in order, follow please and remain silent.”

“I don't see why...”

“Remain silent or you will be made to be silent.” This time Lord Voorhis put a little more force into it.

Sam almost let his temper get the better of him but Mark put his hand on Sam's shoulder.

Voorhis saw the interaction and nodded. He beckoned again and we were led down some stairs. The air turned cool and I guessed that we were somehow underground. Within the rock that the palace sits on top of.

We came to a table which had five large wooden boxes on.

“No questions.” Said Voorhis again. “All loose belongings into a box each please. Shoes, belts, laces and threads. Jewellary, blades, hidden weapons, vials, medicines, potions, money, pouches, all of it into the box. I managed to exchange looks with Emma. I'm not sure if she could even see me.

“What's going on?” She whispered, or tried to whisper anyway. Her voice came through clear to me and I could see Lord Voorhis open his mouth to speak. I held my hand up to him though.

“We're prisoners. He's asking for our things so that they can be searched but also so that we won't harm ourselves in captivity.”

I raised an eyebrow at Voorhis. He nodded and it didn't seem as though I would be punished for speaking. I guessed that Emma needed someone to say it and if it was me rather than some faceless Nilfgaardian then so much the better. Thanks for reading on ManaNovel!

I emptied my pockets and belts, putting my shoes and socks into the box. I was quick enough to see Voorhis give Laurelen a bracelet. She spent a long time looking at it before putting it on with a sigh. She paled visibly as she put it on.

“So cold,” I saw her whisper. I don't know if she meant it to be heard or not.

“All being well your belongings will be returned to you forthwith.” Lord Voorhis nodded. “Please follow me.” He came to a series of rooms. He gestured for someone to walk inside. We all looked at each other, fear and confusion warring on each others faces. I sighed again and walked into the first room. The room had a table that was fixed to the floor, a bench and two stools on either side of the table. The door was shut behind me and locked.

I shivered again and paced around the room a little bit. Six feet square give or take a bit. There was a bucket in the corner but there was nothing in it. I paced a little bit before giving up and sitting back down. I sat down and tried to think but the nervous energy in my body made me get up and pace again. Six feet doesn't give you a lot of room though. Light was granted by a pair of torches high up on the walls. The Holy Flame knows what the rooms were meant for. I had difficulty imagining that this place was meant for the housing of prisoners as there is only limited room in so ornate a palace. I much rather believed that it was some kind of store room. I jumped up and tried to reach one of the torches. More for something to occupy myself with than any kind of desire to actually reach it and decided that it must have been lit with some kind of holder.

I tried sitting again and went through the exercises that Kerrass had taught me. I felt wretched.

I don't know how long I sat there. I know that after a while I began to rock backwards and forwards in an effort to keep time. It's almost impossible to keep a sense of the passage of time in such a place. In the end the door opened and Lord Voorhis came in with a jug and two cups. I leapt to my feet as he stood at the door. I wanted to throw questions at him. To demand to know what was going on. Failing that I wanted to wring his scrawny neck until his dead fish like eyes boggled out of his skull.

He stood in the entranceway looking at me calmly. “Do I need to have you locked into manacles?” he asked.

“Would it help matters?” I asked as I sank back to the stool.

“Not necessarily. You're taking this rather calmly if I might say so.” He sat opposite. The door remained open but I could see that there were guards in the corridor outside. I would never make it and I guessed that the open door had been left so as a temptation to see if the guilty man would make a run for it. Lord Voorhis poured some watered wine into both cups.

“Have you put some truth drugs into it?” I asked.

“No. But would I have told you so if I had?”

I grinned and took a drink. Even watered down wine for prisoners in Toussaint is better than some of the best wine that I had been served elsewhere on the continent.”

“Why so calm Lord Frederick?”

“It all seems a little familiar to me.” I said. “Working with a Witcher means that I've seen more than one type of questioning and have been on the other side of the interrogation table several times.”

“You're talking about that instance with your cousin?”

“That and there have been others.”

“The possession in North Eastern Temeria?”

“And the Werewolf attacks in Eastern Maecht.”

Lord Voorhis nodded.

“In which case. I suppose you know how this all works.” He said. “All I need you to do is to tell me what happened.”

“Tell you what happened?” I asked. “I don't know what happened.”

“Come on Lord Frederick. Your sister Emma isn't stupid, she runs the business enterprises of your family and as a result she practically runs the economy of the North. Sooner or later, you dig into just about anything that has to do with mercantile affairs in the North and you find your family. Sitting there like the fat worm gnawing through the apple. So tell me what the plan was.”

“What plan?”

“Look,” Voorhis blew some breath out of his nose in exasperation before he leant forward. “Let's be honest with each other. Your older sister's the brains of the outfit isn't she? Mark is a clever man but at the same time, your sister leaves him standing. He's far too naïve for anything of this kind of magnitude. Far too innocent to fall in with the kind of plot that you and your sister are involved in.

“Samuel seems like a decent enough sort of fellow but, he just doesn't have the balls. So tell me what's going on and I'll let you get on with your life. I'll only lock your sister up for deviancy and stupidity to go with high treason. With a bit of luck I can get it converted so that she lives out the rest of her life in a convent somewhere and you can marry your vampire harlot or whatever and you and I never need to cross paths again.”

“Have you gone quite insane?”

In my defence I was in shock.

“Insane Lord Frederick?” He leant forward and slammed his fists on the table. “Do you think I'm a fool. A plot to assassinate the Empress on the day of the coronation. I find people with your livery at the site along with anti Nilfgaardian propaganda. Even as we speak your younger sister is giving us everything she knows about your families dealings. Poor girl. You used her didn't you?”

“Used her for what?” I yelled. “I haven't seen Frannie for over four years.”

“I know. But you've sent enough letters between the two of you.” He snarled. “She's given us most things. If not all of it by now. If you listen carefully you can still hear her screaming....”

“What have you done with her you piece of filth?” I bellowed. I leapt to my feet, threw the table aside and went for Voorhis who rose and backed off. Two guards were through the door in seconds and threw me back onto the stool as Lord Voorhis searched my face for some kind of clue. I struggled but there was nothing that I could do. The men holding me were armoured and I only ran the risk of hurting myself. Abruptly Voorhis turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

I sagged against the two men and they let me go and I sank back down into a seated position. I was stunned and appalled at the implications of what the Lord had told me. I was shaking and at first it did not register with me that the door had reopened again. Lord Voorhis was standing there. A servant was with him, a bowl, another jug and a fresh shirt.

“Apologies Lord Frederick but I had to be sure,” he said. His tone not really conveying any hint of apology. “Take a moment to freshen up and join me outside the cell. I had the liberty of having a fresh shirt brought from your quarters.” He vanished again just as quickly before I had chance to ask him anything else.

Out in the corridor I found Sam straightening his tunic. It was definitely not the same one that he had been wearing earlier. He couldn't meet my eyes as I clapped him on the shoulder.

We were ushered up some large plain stairs and through several back corridors. There were still lots of servants running around and the odd hastily closed door let out sounds of merriment and music. It sounded like the festivities to celebrate the Empresses coronation were in full swing. I had been looking forward to them in the kind of absent way that you might look forward do a long anticipated holiday. The way that you look forward to the Yule festival when you're a child or any of the many Equinox's after you get old enough to properly enjoy their meaning.

I felt sick and a little dizzy.

We filed into what was being set up for a part office with a large writing desk and as well as some kind of changing room. It was oddly surreal. On one side of the room, several very serious men were positioning a large table, a chair, blotting sand shaker along with several quills, ink pots and a small sharp knife that I assumed was used for trimming quills. There was also, rather pessimistically, a waste paper bin. On the other side of the room, was a dressing boutique.

I had once had the privilidge to accompany my sister when she went shopping to her favourite boutique in Oxenfurt. I like to think that it's not often that my family flaunt our wealth other than in the state of our residence, our investment in our lands and the industry that is contained on those lands but oh boy did I have my eyes opened. It was on the run up before my sister departed for the south and she had commissioned several gowns for her use and for the use of Laurelen when they arrived for the coronation. I also needed to be fitted for some new clothes as apparently my normal shirts and doublets would not be considered acceptable. It was an education.

First Laurelen and then my sister were ordered to climb up on a box that was surrounded on three ides by huge long mirrors. The dressmaker, who challenged my preconceptions again, by being a man rather than a woman, came out with a tape measure and several large rolls of fabric. There were also a couple of dressing mannequins that were set nearby. As I had watched, far more fascinated than I had thought possible, the dressmaker had tried four different fabrics on my sister, had folded two of them together in order to demonstrate how they would look before my sister was measured, thoroughly from head to foot, including in some areas that I would not have dreamed to stick a tape measure. My sister made her selections and then we had left.

It was like that only more so.

There was a dressing screen while a small army of women came and went, running to and fro and yelling at each other. All the while they were waiting for an important personage to arrive. They whispered of her presence in a way that might suggest that this person held the power of life and death over their souls. It reminded me of all the hubbub that used to happen whenever my Father declared that he was going to inspect the garrison.

I might be forgiven, given my state of mind that the person that they were waiting for with such nervousness was the Empress but I would have been wrong. Instead it was the Imperial dressmaker. A woman who, up until recently, had only had the responsibility of dressing the Imperial consort was now in charge of dressing, not just the Empress but also the Empress' ladies in waiting. When she arrived the women that were rushing around snapped into place and no military unit was served with more discipline.

She was a tall woman, Sharp in her beauty, immaculately dressed and made up. I would guess that she was a woman in her early fifties but she was beautiful in a way that made it all look so easy with a regal air and poise that seemed innate and automatic. She inspected the preparations with a jaded air before taking her place between the mirrors and the dressing screen.

Lord Voorhis gestured the five of us over to this side of the room which put us more on the part with the desk. Kerrass had trained me, hard, to be aware of my own mental state. When dealing with enchantments or the many and varied tricks that can be played on your mind by the supernatural creatures that he sometimes had to deal with, you need to check sometimes so that you could know. Are my thought patterns the same as they would be normally? Has my moral code suddenly switched directions without warning. Am I considering taking an action that would normally be out of character for me? It was one of the reasons that Ariadne was and still is so frightening to me.

Ariadne is a long, pale, cool brunette with hair so dark that it might as well be black. Her sense of humour is sly, dry and sometimes rather subversive, an effect that she gets from being on the outside of society looking in. All the time her intelligence is a finely tuned and honed sharp as a razor. She is a creature of another race and another world. Previously, Kerrass' comments not withstanding, I would have chosen much more.... I wanna say “normal” a love but Ariadne had wandered into my life. I don't know what kind of woman I had wanted but when imagining my ideal woman, someone like Ariadne was too far from what I had imagined. That change in my thinking and my desires was one of the things that frightened me.

What I'm saying is...I was aware that I was in a state of shock and allowed myself to be steered by Lord Voorhis.

The Empress entered the room like a whirlwind. The Witchers came first. Eskel and another man that I didn't recognise opened the doors and had a look round but Kerrass and Gaetan were hard on their heels and marched past them and into the room. The Empress came next.

Or rather her voice did. She was swearing in a way that I've heard some sailors say, “hang on that's a bit much,” and she was doing it in at least four languages. I recognised Nordling, Elven, some dwarven and the strange rhythmic tongue of the Skelligan isles. The Empress came next, still in the dress that she had worn while being crowned, the long train of the dress being carried by two pages who had had to run to keep up with her.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking cunting, cheese licking, arse chewing bastards. Fucking cocksucking cowardly drunken fops with their stupid imbecillic incestuous drunken cunts.”

I'm paraphrasing as she was speaking so quickly that I didn't catch all of it.

“I'm gonna rip out their testicles and beat them to the point of death with them. Which is going to take some work as their manhoods must be so fucking shriveled that I'm gonna struggle to find them.”

She was also hissing and spitting like a cat.

“Ciri, what if it's a woman?” The White haired Witcher that walked behind the Empress asked. “We haven't truly....”

“If it's a woman then I'm going to rip out her ovaries with my own bare hands before stamping on them until there's nothing left.”

The two page's who had been carrying the train of the dress were tittering nervously.

“Fuck off,” she snarled at them and they fled out the door. Lord Voorhis judiciously shut the doors behind them.

The Empress snatched the silver circlet off her head and threw it in indiscriminately into the room like a discuss thrower.

As an aside to those experts that are wondering. The Imperial crown rests on the throne so that, if she wishes to make an announcement she reaches behind her to put the crown on her head. In day to day life she wears a simple circlet so that everyone is reminded of who she is.

Along with the White Wolf, another Witcher entered with her that I didn't recognise, as well as the Empress' personal secretary who was carrying a large packet that contained the Empress' seal and the golden wax that was used to seal imperial decrees. The secretary marched over to the desk to set out the wax and seal.

The Empress span on Lord Voorhis who managed not to quail in terror.

“Well?” she spat.

“She still hasn't been found Majesty.”

“Fuck,”

Emma groaned, Mark staggered and leaned against the wall. I think I turned away.

“Right, What the hell is going on?” Sam demanded.

“Careful Lord Kalayn,” Lord Voorhis boomed ominously.

“Fuck your careful and fuck you too.” Sam snarled back.

“That's enough,” the Empress proved that she knew how to quell a room. “Well Lord Voorhis?”

“Majesty,” he bowed. “I don't believe that these people are involved directly. I think that we can almost completely discount Lord Mark and Lord Frederick from our enquiries. Lord Frederick only arrived the day before yesterday and his movements are well known to us. Lord Mark arrived some weeks ago but, likewise, his movements are a matter of record and I don't think he can have done anything about it. For Lady Emma and Lord Samuel, we are still running down some of their activities but if any of the family are involved then we're pretty sure that it would have to be done through intermediaries and agents. We're still working on that.”

The Empress nodded before turning to the five of us.

“Here's what we know. Servants went to wake your sister, Lady Francesca at dawn as they had been instructed to do so by me so that she could help me get ready and make her own preparations as she was to serve as my sword bearer. She was not in her room and there was no sign that her bed had been slept in. The guard were not immediately concerned as, although this would be out of character for Francesca, it has not been unusual for my ladies to be hopping from bed to bed and it was assumed that she would turn up. She still had not turned up when I was due to walk down to be crowned which was when someone decided to let Lord Voorhis know that there was a problem.”

“That's rather a long time isn't it?” I asked. Already investigating and looking for someone to blame. I hated myself a little then.

“Oh believe me, that is going to get talked about Lord Frederick,” The Empress hissed. “Now, you know as much as I do.”

“Majesty?” The secretary interjected.

The Empress turned to him and he gestured towards the waiting army of women.

“Fuck,” she muttered.

She stalked off towards what I had labelled as the “Dressmaker's side of the room”, where she just barely managed to make it behind the privacy screen before the waiting ladies pounced on her and started to pull all of her clothes off, the Empress herself was being handled, turned around and didn't seem as though she had much of a choice on the matter.

“Then what was all that nonsense about?” Sam demanded. “You don't think... You don't think we had anything to do with it? How dare you?”

“Of course he thought that Sam. It's his job to think like that.” My family turned to me and I was a little astonished to realise that it was me that had spoken. “He's the head of “confidential agencies” or “Intelligence,” or whatever and it's his job to, first of all, see an attack against the Empire and the Empress in any situation and then think about who is attacking regardless of whether he's being attacked or not. He had to suspect us. He has to suspect us.” I looked around for a seat, of which there wasn't one so instead I slid down the wall and sat on the floor. “In fact, we should be damn grateful that he hasn't just locked us up in a cell somewhere “for our own safety” if for no other reason until the crisis is over.”

I put my head in my hands. I felt sick.

“Well done Lord Frederick.” Lord Voorhis commented over the general din that was coming from the other end of the room which appeared to be the sound of the Empress arguing violently with the dressmaker.

“Would you like a job, presuming you're innocent of course?”

“No thanks,” I said. “I don't want to have to teach myself to think like that. To suspect everyone like that.”

“It's actually quite good for the soul,” Lord Voorhis suggested. I looked up at him to discover that he had found a stool and was helping Mark to sit down on it. “If you always suspect the worst of everyone then all they can do is surprise you in a good way.”

“Besides, you can't have him, he has employment.” The Empress had emerged, she looked dishevelled wearing a loose fitting cotton shirt whose sleeves were two long for her and a pair of scuffed and stained leather trousers that were held up around her waist with a length of rope. She stamped over to the desk where she was handed a piece of paper by the secretary. The door on the other side of the room had opened and there was a stream of waiting messengers there with scrolls and pieces of paper under their arms or in their hands.

The Empress started reading the paper with astonishing speed.

“Do we know if she's definitely still in the city?” I asked. “A location spell or something similar?”

“It's been tried.” Lord Voorhis told me. “The results were.... inconclusive.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Sam snapped. His face was red and I was beginning to worry that someone would have to slap him down at some point and if it was the Empress then there was a better than even chance that he wouldn't survive the event. Emma must have sensed the same thing as she reached out and laid her hand on his arm.

“It means, Lord Kalayn, that we don't know.” Lord Voorhis told him “But that could mean anything. I'm told that such things are not always dependable.”

“Why not?”

“There can be any number of reasons?” Laurelen answered for Lord Voorhis. “Up to and including the target's mood and the skill of the caster. She could be shielded in some way, or protected or she might have been given some dimertium to protect her from scrying.” She took a deep breath. “She could also be dead and if the spell was cast to find a living person then that might be significant.”

“Also she might have been moved,” Lord Voorhis went on “or be outside the area of effect, be actively hiding as well as being hidden as she is well aware of what magic users are capable of. Even more so if she has been taken by a magic user. The search is being refined as we speak. Lady Eilhart insists that no-one has used a gate to escape the city and the existing gate site is guarded. If those guards are lying then we have a larger problem than that.”

“So what's next?” The Empress asked from her desk. She was frowning at the piece of paper that she was working on. “This is wrong, several small but significant spelling mistakes.” She pointed at the manuscript for the benefit of her secretary who smiled and took the offending paper away to replace it with another one.

Lord Voorhis moved to stand in front of the desk “We have to assume that we are under attack.”

“Why?”

“Because Lady Francesca is a route through to your person Majesty. The worst case scenario here is that there was some kind of plot against you, that Lady Francesca was involved in some way and that that plot is still going ahead, regardless of her disappearance.”

“Oh come on,” Sam exclaimed in protest. Emma was sobbing quietly and Mark had his head between his legs and was concentrating on breathing in and out.

The Empress' opinion was rather more brutal and profane.

“I'm not saying that that's what happened Majesty, what I'm saying is that we have to assume that. We have to protect ourselves in case that is the circumstance here.”

“I don't see it.”

“Neither do I.” Voorhis admitted “But we have to work as though that is the case. We have to assume that by now, your itinerary and plans have been given to an enemy. That your routines and strategies for the coming weeks and months are now no longer kept a secret. We have to assume that.”

“Francesca would never do that.”

“Even if she wouldn't do it willingly she would do it under torture. Everyone breaks Majesty and so we have to assume that every fact, every plan or conversation that you've ever had with her or that she has been party to is now a resource for your enemies.”

The Empress signed her name again and took another piece of paper off her secretary.

“For our enemies, you mean.”

“Yes of course I do,” Lord Voorhis' temper flared suddenly.

“So what do you suggest we do?” The Empress frowned at something that was written on the paper in front of her. “This is wrong,” she told the Secretary. “That means that the border is two miles out of the way.”

“Are you sure Majesty?”

“Pretty sure, check it would you, before I sign it into law.”

The Secretary nodded, passed her another treaty to sign and left the room briefly.

“Why must we assume that we are under attack Lord Voorhis?” she asked him as she began to scan the new piece of paper.

“Because it has thrown you off centre. May I speak frankly Majesty?”

“Go on.”

“You are no longer an Empress Your Majesty, you are a woman who is worried about her friend.”

“Mmm, so you think this might have been done to put me off balance?”