Chapter 99: I heard a young voice tittering

So I stared into the flames. Trying to figure things out. It wasn't going well for me.

What I should be doing was trying to figure out what I was dealing with and how to deal with it. It was almost certain that I was dealing with some kind of ghost. A spirit or spectre of some kind. My working theory was that the ground had been disturbed during the earlier mudslide and that had allowed the spirit of something to escape and start tormenting the village.

If the truth be told, I wasn't that concerned for my own safety. It was the children that had been affected most by the supernatural effects, the adults had seen the results but had not been affected. So I was pretty sure that I would, at worst, need to defend myself from a wraith or some other kind of effect.

I was more worried about what to do about Kerrass. Our relationship, both professional and personal had been damaged somewhere and somehow. I had some ideas as to why but at the same time, Kerrass' actions didn't completely add up for me and I was concerned about what was happening.

I valued him as a friend more than I could say. He was responsible for my ascension in the public eye which meant that he was responsible for my rise in academic rank. Without him I would not have survived to meet Ariadne, I would never have met Ariadne in the first place and although it had only really been, by this point, a little over a year since I had met her, I shivered to think about what my life would be like if I hadn't met her or where I would be by now. It would be almost certain that my marriage would have been arranged by now but that was a rabbit hole that I found my brain fleeing from.

I would never have found out about my fathers killer and what had led to it which would mean that my entire familial situation would be so very different.

Would that mean that Francesca would still be alive?

That didn't bear thinking about.

But one of the important things that Kerrass had taught me about was that he had taught me about the world.

I sat facing the fire for a long time, thinking back tot he person that had left Oxenfurt with a Quarterstaff, some travelling clothes and a bedroll, convinced that my status as a scholar would see me through. Kerrass had taught me about the beauty of a simple life. He'd shown me my prejudices against those people that I just used to label under the overall term of “Commonners”.

I shuddered at that thought.

Now of course I knew that the term was too broad. Villagers, towns-folk, farm-folk, city-folk, merchants, craftspeople, travelling entertainers of every stripe, military folk otherwise defined by their use of their weapons to make their living. The underworld that I used to think of as just being evil predators that just made their living by taking from their betters whereas now I had an understanding of the fact that some, if not most people were driven to that lifestyle rather than choosing it for it's own sake.

I owed Kerrass for that.

I also owed Kerrass for the shifting definition of “monster”. When I had first set out from Oxenfurt I had thought of a monster as being anything that was not human. If you had pushed me I would have added the other collection of races that are commonly referred to as the “non-humans” to the definition of not being monsters which was another prejudice that I had been forced to get over. But since knowing and travelling with Kerrass I had met and interacted with, and been offered the kindness of other races that I would have thought of as Monsters. Trolls and vampires being the ones that I have written about but also Changelings, Succubi, Godling, numerous spirits and ghosts, Incubi, Dragons and an Isolated Werewolf who had deliberately isolated himself from society but had come to the defence of a local village when it had been attacked by bandits.

No, the monsters were the villagers that then tried to hire a Witcher to hunt down and destroy the Werewolf for existing.

In case you're wondering, Kerrass managed to warn the poor thing that the lynch-mob was on it's way and he was able to get away. Along with his wife and child.

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I had also learned that a lot of the “monsters” that Kerrass was hired to hunt were often creatures that had had their habitat disturbed by the activity of humanity. Not conscious, angry beasts but just animals. Large and terrifying though they might be.

Kerrass had taught me that.

But it was time for action, no more time for thinking.

I took the bottle that he had given me, opened it before taking a cloth and, in the same way that you would applying polish to armour, I started to apply the oil to my spear and dagger, taking my time to make sure both were nice and covered in it. That I could see that darkish, green and blue tint on every scrap of business metal.

Right then.

I stood, wrapped up all but one of the torches and slung them in a bundle across my back so that they would be out of my way. The coil of rope went the same way and I spent a bit of time doing some twists and turns to make sure that they were properly settled on my body and wouldn't come loose if I needed to defend myself. I hung the mallet off a hoop in my belt and the climbing spike went on the other side to balance me out. Again I danced a couple of steps to make sure I was settled and comfortable.

Then I stared into the flame and offered a little prayer for my preservation.

It was time though.

I picked up my spear in one hand and let the last torch to see me up the hill.

Strange how even relatively small distances can be amplified in the dark to huge, mile-long treks to which there is no end. Thanks for reading on ManaNovel!

I slowly made my way up the hill. Far too slowly if we're having to be honest with each other. I don't know what was worse, my own fear of what I might find or my hard-taught and hard learnt caution.

Then I saw the green flash.

I've talked about the green flash before, the sign of an angry spirit. I had enough time to throw myself flat, tuck and roll. True to form, the spectre had appeared just behind where I had been standing a moment before and it's blade had passed through where my back had been a moment before. I stumbled to my feet and plunged the torch that I was carrying into the ground at my feet. I had enough time to drop the hammer and spike next to it.

This is why it's always good to have spare torches. Although I hoped that the torch would carry on burning and remain upright there was no guarantee. I could still see my little preparation fire so if it did go out, I could still make it back and light another torch.

I managed those things, I was prepared for this but the thing that I always forget is the deceptive way that spectre's move.

In case you haven't read any of the descriptions about spectres before. They are angry spirits that seem to glow with a green light. Sometimes that glow is a bright green fire but other times it's just a glow. Sometimes they carry what look like lanterns, other times the glow seems to come from some kind of internal source. They often have what look like headstones attached to their backs. I've seen several which trail chains and still more that wear armour.

Fortunately for me, they nearly always use swords which can be parried by anything that you might be able to lay your hands on. Don't ask me why they have material swords that manifest so suddenly like that, I couldn't tell you. You'd be better off talking to a magic user about that.

But they move deceptively. As they move over the ground they seem to move fairly slowly. At no more than the walking speed of humans and they move in the same kind of way, turning and twisting like humans. But then they vanish and teleport significant distances in the blink of an eye.

So, in theory, you fight one like you would a human. But when one vanishes, the best thing to do is to throw yourself into a long roll as there's no way of telling where that blade is going to pass. Don't ask me why but they can't seem to skip and then skip again immediately. As though there is some part of them that is alive and the small teleport leaps renders them confused.

I was pretty sure that I could handle one spectre.

But on the other hand I was still carrying a lot of extra weight and didn't think I had time to get rid of the rope and spare torches.

It lunged forwards and I managed to knock it's blow aside by a sweep of the spear that owed more to my Quarterstaff training than it did to my training with a spear.

Heh.

Back-sliding in more than one way.

Using the technique I followed the movement round to engage the bladed end of the spear. I didn't expect it to strike home but I thought it might give me some room to move and so that I could bring the rest of the pole back into play so that I was wielding a spear again instead of a staff. I lunged and it fell back before vanishing again.

Following the learned rhythm, I threw myself into another roll which carried me a bit further down the hill than I wanted to go. But it did give me room to study my opponent. It was armoured and I could see the top part of leg greaves which suggested that it had some kind of military training. Probably a soldier of some kind in life for it to hold on to the shape of it's armour even after death.

It advanced on me slowly from where it reappeared and I stood ready for it, shifting round so that we were on equal footing. It struck at me twice and I blocked twice before rolling my spear over it's weapon and managed a strike.

It screamed and I felt confidence flow through me.

But then there was another green flash from over to my left.

I swore a little bit as I didn't have time for more than that.

Teach me for being overconfident.

I tried to close with the first spectre to do a bit more damage before the second arrived but there was definitely some military training at work here. It parried my blows carefully and I judged that it was tying me up until it's friend could arrive.

Panic started to flare up and the urge to over-extend myself in an effort to end the first one was strong in me. I was pretty sure I could defeat one spectre by myself but two felt a little bit of a stretch.

The second one was getting closer and I had to move so that I could see both of them. It would do no good to be too focused on one opponent and then forget about the other one as it teleported behind me and cut my head from my neck

Ok, this was getting serious. They knew each other and were working together. While not unusual it was certainly cause for concern. I would need to start getting creative.

The tactic here was to try and isolate the one from the other. Ideally I would be able to destroy the one that had already been injured first before being able to take on the fresh one. But they were working together as a unit, not letting themselves be drawn out or separated.

“Hello,” I tried communication. Unlikely to work, indeed I had never seen it work, or heard of an occasion where it did work but you never know. Maybe this time.

The problem with trying to communicate with Spectres is that by the time a spirit gets to the point of being a wight it has lost the spark of intelligence and....well....humanity that would let you communicate with it.

But, if you don't try then nothing ever happens.

“Hello,” I tried again. “Can we talk about this?”

No answer. Well what did I expect really.

Instead one of them lunged at me and I had to spin away, not being sure enough of my footing to mount a counter.

Fuck,

Ok, what else is there to try.

Where the fuck am I anyway?

I had a look round. I realised that I was being herded towards the embankment. They would be able to move easily but I would struggle over the steep, rock-strewn ground. I thought about using the tower as shelter.

The problem was that they would almost certainly be able to teleport through the walls and if I ended up in the tower itself then I would be confined when the best way to combat spectres is to stay mobile.

But then an idea struck me.

Cautiously I backed up towards the tower. I was careful, feeling for my feet placement to be sure of my footing. I soon found the tower and started to back round it.

Both spectres had their swords in their right hands. So I backed round, keeping the wall on my left, their right. Nice and slow, calm.

They were getting closer. one followed the line of the fort, the other came round to my right, trying to box me in against the wall. The one closest to the wall was my target. I went to step backwards but I had let them get close. As they should... the spectre took that opportunity to draw back and swing.

As I hoped it would.

It fouled it's sword on the wall of the fort and I lunged forwards to skewer it nice and hard while it's sword was out of position. There was an odd resistance to the blow as I saw my blade enter it. A chill and shock went up the haft of my spear but the thing was dying. I kept going forward. Managing to tuck and roll. The second spectre had attacked while I was skewering it's companion and I needed to get out of the way and make up some ground.

I was getting tired now. Fighting, especially the slow and tactical kind of fighting is deceptively wearying. If he had been human I would have thought the remaining spectre was angry. He came after me quickly and I was forced to focus on just parrying with no mind for any kind of attempt at attacking.

I continued to back off. I needed room. Room to think and plan.

Also a bit of a rest would be lovely.

But the spectre just kept coming on.

It's a fine balancing act, backing away. Just far enough to keep it from trying a teleport but also far enough away so that it didn't get to attack me while I was moving.

But I couldn't back away forever.

I found a patch of ground that seemed relatively flat and stable and decided to make my stand. I planted my feet and as it came closer to me I jabbed at it, the oldest attack pattern that Kerrass had ever taught me.

Throat, groin, throat. Three quick stabs.

It drifted aside and went for a cut to my head. I blocked and was forced sideways. It cut the other way, again I blocked and stepped back the way I came. It's blows were strong and although I didn't know for sure, I thought that this was the uninjured Wight.

It vanished and I dived into a roll and came to my feet.

I was beginning to slow down now. That dive and roll was happening slower and slower.

It closed with me, possibly sensing my weariness.

Oh, that was a bad idea.

If Kerrass saw this he would be so cross.

It was supposed to be a defensive movement but I was running out of other ideas.

It came in for a swing.

I let go of the spear with my right hand so that I was holding it upright with just my left hand. I blocked the blow with the spear as I stepped close and drew my dagger.

It tried to pull back, sensing the danger but not before I managed to stab it twice with the dagger.

The oil on the blade hissed as it made contact with the spectral....whatever it is that makes up the substance of a spirit. It seemed to scream as it collapsed in on itself.

I waited.

The moment of greatest danger is in that moment when you think that you're out of danger but don't yet know that you're out of danger.

Slowly. I started to relax and bent over to lean on my spear as I sucked air into my lungs.

For one glorious moment, I thought that that might be it. That I could go from here, clear away my little fire, find the spike and the mallet and head back to the village. For a wonderful moment I thought that that might be the case. That I might be off the hook.

But of course I wasn't.

Why?

Because the bodies of the children had no other obvious signs of injury. And they hadn't died on the hill itself. The spirits that I had fought had all wielded weapons. These spirits were protecting something else.

But what?

My night wasn't over it would seem.

I found my torch and the hammer and climbing spike and headed up to the watch tower again.

Something caught my eye I was climbing up towards the tower. Off to one side I saw something glittering in the way that sand sometimes catches the light and reflects it back. I checked where I was and went over to investigate.

What I found was a small pile of greenish white dust, scattered over a scorch mark on the floor. I knew better than to sniff it or taste it but I did roll some between my fingers to check that I did indeed know what it was.

Spectre Dust. Another Spectre had died here. Far away from the wall of the tower where I'd killed one and some distance from where the other had died. There had been more spectres here and someone had destroyed them. I straightened.

Kerrass.

For a while I wondered if he was watching me. I didn't bother looking though. If he wanted me to know that he was there he would call out to me. Also, he could see in the dark much better than I could and I was light blinded by the torches.

I set off towards the tower and the cave again.

It took me a little while of hunting to find the cave entrance. I had to re-orient myself to the tower several times and I was also worried about tripping down it and hurting myself. The other problem being that it looked much smaller in the dark. I think there were a couple of occasions when I found the hole and discounted it on the grounds that it looked too small for the hole that I had remembered seeing.

But I found it and set down my gear.

I tied my rope into the climbing spike before hammering it deep into the ground. I tried my full weight on it outside the hole first to make sure that it could take me as I had visions of the spike coming out when I was half way down there. Made sure there was another torch as well, next to the spike and lit that one as well so that I would have a light source that would tell me when I had climbed out.

I really, really didn't want to go down the hole.

I took the spear apart and just slung the bladed end to my back, leaving the pole with the torch. There was no way that I would be able to properly use the spear down there so there was no point in even tempting myself into doing that.

I realised that I was procrastinating. My breath was coming in short gasps and that I was sweating and shaking.

Turns out that it's one thing to climb down a dark hole in the middle of the day while also being quite another to climb there at night.

Let alone, doing so after a fight.

“Tear the plaster off.” I told myself and probably went down far too fast. “Fastest done, fastest over.”

I guessed that I was about half way down the hole when I began to see a faint, bluish white light.

“No,” I said to myself. “This isn't too terrifying.” I had to take another couple of deep breaths before I ventured further into the cave. I rolled over the embankment and came to my feet. From here I would be able to walk, just a little bit further before I would be able to straighten up. I lit another torch and left it on the ground, carefully making sure that it was a good foot away from where I had let the rope lie so that the rope didn't catch fire.

Three torches down. Plus the one that I was holding which wouldn't last forever leaving me three left. I wanted one for the entrance to the larger cavern and had thought that I could use one to illuminate the other end of the cavern with an extra torch spare.

I suddenly bitterly regretted not bringing more torches. Like, a dozen more torches.

The glow seemed to come from just round the bend into the larger cavern.

I took a deep breath and held the shortened spear out in front of me.

I advanced slowly, spear and torch before me, which was an awkward way to go caving. But I crept forwards as best as I could.

I came to the entrance to the larger cavern and had to take another deep breath. Calling the strange light “bright” would be an exaggeration. It was only bright because of the darkness, the thrown shadows of my own flame and the depths of my imagination.

As I say. Firelight is not a good way of dismissing fear.

I took another deep breath and lit a second torch. I stepped through the entranceway and into the cavern leaving the new torch on the right of the entrance so I knew that I would need to have it on my left as I left, it's important to keep these things oriented in your mind, and then looked up into the cavern.

The light went out before I could see the source of the light.

Fuck.

A shiver went down my spine and once again I was left feeling as though I was being watched. The hairs on my forearm and the back of my neck started to stand up.

I took a deep breath and saw, in my torchlight, that my breath was fogging in the air.

I could feel my heart hammering in my chest, that strange feeling of the blood pumping through my veins. It was deathly quiet. I remember distinctly thinking that it was “as quiet as a tomb,”

I don't know why I thought that.

It took me another few moments to master myself.

I remembered the wooden framework of the stairs at the other end of the room. I raised my torch in an effort to get some more light into the room and could just see the dime shapes of the skeletal framework at the other end of the room. But I was also aware of the possible distortions of reality that the dark, the fear and the presence of something ghostly. I carefully felt my way round the wall until I reached the stairs before lighting another torch and leaving it there, nice and elevated so it would give me more light.

Ok then, so....what now?

I thought about the presence that I had felt earlier in the day when I had been down there.

“Fuck it....” I said quietly.

I heard a young voice tittering.

I jumped a mile, narrowly avoiding banging my head on the low ceiling.

“Uh, hello.” I called into the cavern when I had got myself back under control. “Is there anyone there?” I asked, proving that no cliché is ever too much for this scholar.

I got the feeling of being watched.

Then I made a foolish error.

I closed my eyes in an effort to sharpen my hearing or whatever sense it was that was using to try and sense whatever it was that I was in the presence of. I had felt a sense of it's location before but now I couldn't tell what was happening. I took several deep breaths before giving up and opening my eyes again.

“Boo,” said the quiet voice.

“FUCK,” I yelled and fell backwards hitting my head on some of the wooden framework of the stairs.

There was again, a sound of quiet laughter.

“You said a naughty word.” Came the voice.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Are you here to play with me?”

I shuddered. I realised that the voice sounded like that of a young child.

“Uhhhh, maybe?” I tried.

“No-one will play with me.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Why will no-one play with me?”

Seeing it written down on the paper doesn't properly convey just how terrifying this was. But now the light was coming back.

I began to get the sense of a small figure stood at the edge of the cavern. Just a shape, a small human shape. It oddly made me feel better but the blue tinged light was not helping. I was used to green light coming from angry spirits and I couldn't tell what this blue light meant. But having a shape, if not a face, to address my words towards was helpful.

“Who are you?” I asked it.

“I'm bored.” Came the voice. It echoed strangely off the walls. As though it wasn't being generated by a pair of lungs or a mouth. “So bored and tired and hungry.”

“Why don't you tell me your name?” I asked it again but it seemed to be ignoring me.

“I'm so bored.” He complained.”

I took another deep breath. “What would you like to play?” I asked him. His features had kind of been fading into vision. As though they were becoming more and more pronounced. I could see his nose forming and the outline of eyebrows and clothes. He was dressed in an old-fashioned style. Much more ornate style a mixture of the modern, austerity of Nilfgaard mixed with the ornate and flimsy garb of Toussaint. A simple hat sat on his head. He wore stockings underneath his tunic and worse simple shoes. He looked like a page that you would see in any nobleman's house, or a fostered son learning the ways of someone else's court traditions.

His body language was unspeakably sad. Dejected and despairing.

“I'm not supposed to play with adults.” He said, turning towards me. His features fading into view quicker now.

I groaned.

It's odd how the eye slides of things that it doesn't want to see. The eye slides off and the mind refuses to register it.

The boy was emaciated, skeletally thin to the point of death. As I looked at him it seemed as though the skin was peeling off his face and I could see him clearly for the dying young boy that he was. I suddenly had a vision of blonde hair, cut above the collar, clear blue eyes in the way that must have delighted his parents. I would put his age at being about six or seven. He was dying before my eyes.

The thing that sent me fleeing for the sake of my mind and sanity was when his eyeball rolled out of his socket and hung by a thread.

My brain went away for a while. I count myself lucky that I still had my spear because if I had put it down then I think it would still be under the ground there. I ran before that awful sight.

And I've seen some unpleasant stuff in my time of following Kerrass around but there was something so....simple in the awfulness, in the horror of that thing's expression as it's eye simply rolled out. There was something in the innocence of the boys face that cut me down to the soul.

I found my way out more by chance than by any kind of skill and hauled my way along the rope as hard as I could. The lack of care in my ascent meant that I was scuffed against the sides of the tunnel sending loose dirt and earth further down the tunnel.

It felt so much further than I remembered to get to the surface but eventually I saw the torchlight and scrambled to see it.

Strong hands took mine and hauled at me. I looked up and saw Kerrass' face. He had planted his feet and pulled me bodily from the hole.

I was shaking with the sudden effort and the fear and the sheer horror of the thing. When I was out of the hole I still needed to move a little, Kerrass' presence not withstanding I was shaking and my legs still wanted to move.

He waited for a while with the attitude of someone who was waiting for a friend to fall over after drinking too much. As though he was waiting to catch me. I realised that he was saying my name.

“Freddie?” I looked up at him. He searched my eyes for a minute, seemed satisfied with what he saw and nodded.

“I'm on top of the tower when you're ready.”

It still took me some time to calm down. I wasn't ready for a conversation yet but it seemed like I was getting one.

He was sat on the top of the tower in the shelter of one of the crenellations. I saw a bedroll in one corner as well as cooking pot that was bubbling over some hot stones. A trick that he used occasionally when he didn't want to build a fire. He would heat a couple of stones with his “Igni sign,” and cook over that. He had a hooded lantern next to him, from the light of which he was reading from that book again.

When I arrived he reached over and took some more liquid out of the pot and poured it into a spare mug before offering it to me.

“Here,” he said, “It'll help.”

I recognised one of the herbal teas that he liked. Sweetened with a little too much honey for my normal tastes but I also knew from past experience that it would help.

I sat down opposite him and stretched out. It was surprisingly warm and well sheltered on the tower top, helped by the hot stones and the drink. I felt my legs crack as the muscles started to relax from their adrenaline fuelled tensions. I stretched out and sighed before staring over at Kerrass who was taking the cover off the lantern so that there was more light to go around.

I stared at him for a long time. I almost felt the distance between us growing like a chasm. He had hurt me and I suspected the I had hurt him. I was still angry but hadn't had enough time to sort out my own feelings about that.

“You alright?” He asked me after a long while of trying to peer at the book again.

“St Lebioda's testicles Kerrass.” I told him with some asperity. “What the fuck was that?”