Lady of the Lake by Andrzej Sapkowski


  The night was very cold, despite his fatigue; Jarre could not sleep, curled up under his blanket, his knees almost touching his chin. When he finally feel asleep, he slept poorly and nightmares plagued him. Upon awakening he remembered only two.

  In the first dream he saw the Witcher Geralt or Rivia who occasionally visited mother Nenneke. The witcher sat motionless under icicles hanging from an overhanging rock and was snowed in from a blizzard. In the second dream, Ciri was hunched over a horse’s neck, galloping towards a low wall of alders.

  Oh yes, and just before dawn he dreamed of Triss Merigold. After he last stay in the temple the young man dreamed of the enchantress often. Those dreams had consequences, for after waking up he was very ashamed.

  This time, however, nothing of the sort happened. It was just too cold.

  In the morning they did indeed march at dawn. Milton and Ograbek, the children of serfs, added a note of encouragement by singing a military song:

  Go on, brave warrior!

  Your armor rumbles like thunder.

  Don’t run, girl, he wants to kiss you.

  Just give it to him, you won’t regret it,

  After all, the handsome solider is going to fight for us!

  Pike, Okultich, Klaproth and Melfi, walked together like lice on a beggar and told silly jokes and anecdotes, which in their opinion were outrageously funny:

  ‘…And the Nilfgaardian asks “What’s that smell?” and the Elf says, “Shit!”, Ha, ha, ha!’

  ‘Hahahahahaha!’

  ‘Ha, ha, ha, ha! Do you know this one? An elf and a dwarf are going to Nilfgaard…’

  As time passed they met other travelers on the road, walking and driving, farm carts, merchants and military units. Some vehicles were loaded with food and Pike walked after them with his nose practically pressed to the ground, like a retriever, collecting anything that fell off the back – a carrot here, a potato there and sometimes even some onions. Some of the food they devoured on the spot and some they saved for later.

  Jarre was waiting for any chance or reason to separate from them. He did not like Pike or Okultich. He did not like the looks that Pike and Okultich threw the wagons of the merchants who passed or the carts of the farmers with girls and women sitting in the carts. He did not like the mocking tone Pike put on when he spoke of his purpose of volunteering for the military at a time when it was clear and inevitable they would be defeated.

  The air smelled of freshly ploughed earth. And smoke. In a valley between the regular checkerboard fields they saw fruit trees and between them the crowns of a thatched roofs. They heard dogs barking, roosters crowing and cattle lowing.

  ‘Nice village,’ Pike said. ‘Not to big but neat and rich at first sight.’

  ‘Here in the valley,’ Okultich hurried to explain, ‘halflings have settled. They organize everything neatly. They are diligent stewards.’

  ‘Non-humans are cursed,’ snarled Klaproth. ‘Fucking kobolds. They are thriving here while everyone else is in poverty. Not even the war affects them.’

  ‘For now,’ Pike’s lip curled back in an ugly grimace. ‘Remember this settlement, boys. Remember it well. If we ever wanted to take a look there, I would not like to wander.’

  Jarre turned his head. He pretended not to hear. He watched the road in front of them.

  They continued their journey. Ograbek and Milton started singing a new song. Not a military song, but something much grimmer. It could have been, after Pike’s previous references, taken as an ominous sign.

  People listen and learn the cruelty of death.

  Old, young or brave,

  No one escapes the Reaper.

  No mercy from his scythe.

  ‘He,’ Okultich said quietly, ‘must have some money. I’ll be damned if he does not have silver.’

  The subject for whom Okultich had made the bet was a merchant who was travelling along the road, walking with a two wheeled wagon being pulled by a donkey.

  ‘Money calls money,’ Pike lisped, ‘and the little donkey would also be worth something. Lead the way, boys.’

  ‘Melfi,’ Jarre pulled on the cooper’s sleeve, ‘open your eyes! Do you not see what is brewing here?’

  ‘These are just jokes, Jarre,’ Melfi pulled away. ‘They are only joking…’

  Close up they could see that the cart was also a stall that he could set up in a few moments to spread his wears ready for sale. The cart was covered with a tarpaulin which doubled as a sign that praised the shopkeepers range – protective amulets, talismans and scapulars, roots and medicinal drugs, magic potions and all sorts of spices, elixirs and magical poultices, precious metal detectors as well as infallible bait for fish, ducks and maidens.

  The merchant, a thin elderly man, looked around and saw them, swore and urged his donkey forward. But the donkey like any ass did not go faster.

  ‘He’s wearing a pretty decent outfit,’ Okultich quietly appreciated. ‘And I’m sure we’ll find things in the cart.’

  ‘Well, boys, let’s get to it,’ Pike commanded, ‘while there are few witnesses on the road.’

  Jarre could not believe his courage, when he ran a few quick steps ahead of the gang, turned and stood between them and the merchant.

  ‘No!’ he uttered with difficulty, as if his throat was being squeezed. ‘I won’t let you…’

  Pike carelessly parted his long cloak and pointed at a knife on his belt, which was without a doubt sharp as a razor.

  ‘Move aside, pen-pusher!’ Pike lisped with hatred. ‘If you want to save your throat. I thought you were looking for adventures with our company, but no, I see your temple has made you a prude, you stink of incense. Get out of the way now, because otherwise…’

  ‘What is happening here? Huh?’

  From behind the bushes at the side of the road, emerged two eccentric looking figures. Both men wore waxed moustaches curled upwards that looked like a colorful Danish pastry, they wore quilted jackets decorated with ribbons and big, soft, velvet berets with tufts of feathers. In addition they wore wide belts with hanging daggers and both men wore on their backs two-handed swords, about a meter in length, with long hilts.

  The landsknecht emerged from the bushes after having apparently fulfilled their necessary requirements. Although they behaved with ostentatious carelessness and did not reach towards their swords, Pike and Okultich immediately backed away and went limp and Klaproth looked like a deflated bladder.

  ‘We… we’re not…’ stammered Pike. ‘Nothing wrong with…’

  ‘Just a joke,’ whined Melfi.

  ‘No one was hurt,’ the old merchant said unexpectedly. ‘So no big deal.’

  ‘We,’ Jarre said quickly, ‘are on our way to Vizima. We have to report for conscription. By chance maybe that is the way you are travelling, gentlemen soldiers?’

  ‘By chance we are,’ chuckled the landsknecht, who immediately understood what was going on. ‘We are also going to Vizima. Whoever is interested can go with us. We will be safer together.’

  ‘In any case,’ the other landsknecht measured Pike and his henchmen with penetrating eyes. ‘I would like to add that we met a sheriff’s patrol a short distance away. His men are angry they have to trudge through the country, instead of sitting somewhere warm. They are keen to hang any robbers they find on the roads.’

  ‘Very well,’ Pike recovered and showed his teeth in a fake smile. ‘Very well, the law punishes rogues and keeps order. Then let us be on our way to Vizima, to the army, because patriotic duty calls.’

  The landsknecht looked at him for a long time and rather contemptuously, then shrugged his shoulders, adjusted the sword on his back and walked by. His companion, Jarre and the merchant and his wagon and donkey followed him, and a short distance behind, Pike’s mob.

  ‘I thank you, gentlemen soldiers,’ said the merchant driving his donkey. ‘And I thank you, your sir.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ the landsknecht waved his hand. ‘It happens.’

  ‘A
wide range of people are being recruited for the military, ‘said the second fellow looking back over his shoulder. ‘They arrive at a village or a town and order one out of every ten men. Often the first thing they do is take advantage of the opportunity to get rid of the crooks, which is worse, because then the road become full of robbers. Oh, like those back there. However, once they reach the training center a soldier will club some discipline into them. Everyone learns to listen when they are forced to run down a corridor of sticks a few times.’

  ‘I,’ Jarre was quick to clarify, ‘wish to enlist as a volunteer, not forced.’

  ‘I noticed right away,’ the landsknecht looked at him, ‘you’re a different breed from those rascals. So why are you with them?’

  ‘Chance brought us together.’

  ‘I have seen many such pairings,’ said the experienced soldier seriously, ‘which together by chance led them to the gallows. Take a lesson from that, my boy.’

  ‘I will.’

  Before the clouds obscured by sun it stood at its zenith, they reached the highway. There awaiting them was a large group of travelers who had arrived before them, Jarre and his companions had to stop because the road was completely blocked by military troops.

  ‘They’re heading south,’ said one of the landsknechts. ‘To the front. To Maribor and Mayena.’

  ‘Look at their banners,’ nodded the other.

  ‘Redania,’ said Jarre. ‘Silver eagle on purple.’

  ‘Smart boy,’ said the landsknecht patting him on the shoulder. ‘Yes, it is Redanian soldiers that have been sent to help by Queen Hedwig. Finally the kingdoms are united again – Temeria, Redania, Aedirn and Kaedwen, now we are allies for a common cause.’

  ‘It’s about time,’ Pike said from behind them with obvious sarcasm. The landsknecht looked, but said nothing.

  ‘Let’s sit down,’ Melfi said. ‘Get some rest. The crowd of troops is not near the end, it will take a while before the path is clear.’

  ‘We can sit on that hill,’ the merchant pointed. ‘We will have a better view.’

  The Redanian light cavalry passed rapidly past them, raising dust. Behind them marched the crossbowmen. Behind them came a column of heavy cavalry.

  ‘Those,’ Melfi pointed to an armored knight, ‘march under another banner. A black standard, dotted with white speckles.’

  ‘From what sunken hole did you climb?’ the landsknecht shook his head. ‘You do not know the banner of your own king? These are the silver lilies, you blockhead…’

  ‘Black field covered with silver lilies,’ Jarre said, who wanted to show that he definitely climbed from no hole, and hurriedly explained – ‘The old coat of arms of the Kingdom of Temeria was a striding lion. Only the crown princes' used a different standard to put on their shields, the three fleur de lis. The heraldic symbolisms of the lilies are a sign of the crown prince, heir to the crown and sceptre…’

  ‘Fuckin know it all,’ muttered Klaproth.

  ‘Shut your mug, pig heads,’ warned the landsknecht. ‘And you, my boy, keep going. This interests me.’

  ‘When prince Goidemar, son of old King Gardik went to fight Falka’s evil insurgents, the army fought under this under the coat of arms of the lilies, making a decisive advantage. And when Goidemar inherited the throne from his father, in memory of those victories and the miraculous salvation of his wife and children from enemy hands, he instituted the coat of arms of three lilies on a black filed for his kingdom. And then King Cedric changed the official flag by special decree, so now it is a field strewn with silver lilies. And this is Temeria’s crest today. Which you can visually verify without difficulty, since on the road move Temerian spearmen.’

  ‘You explained that very well, young sir,’ praised the merchant.

  ‘Not I,’ said Jarre, ‘but Jan of Attre, a scholar of heraldry.

  ‘And obviously you are as well versed.’

  ‘Fucking great then,’ said Pike in a low voice, ‘that he is being recruited by the banner of the silver lilies, for the king of Temeria.’

  Suddenly they heard singing. The deep, threatening, like an approaching thunder storm. Following in the tracks left by the Temerians, came another army in close formation. A grey, almost colorless cavalry, over which waved no flags or banners. At the front of the column carried on a pole was a horizontal staff decorated with horses’ tails from which three human skulls hung.

  ‘The Free Company,’ the landsknecht pointed at the riders. ‘Condottiere. An army of mercenaries.’

  ‘Even the untrained eye can see that they are seasoned,’ Melfi sighed. ‘I would serve with them. They ride in formation, as if on parade…’

  ‘The Free Company,’ repeated the landsknecht. ‘Behold, beardless yokels, those are true soldiers. The same condottieri was present at the battle of Mayena- Adam Pangratt, Lorenzo Molla, Frontino and Julia Abatemarco where they decided to attack and broke the siege and liberated them from Nilfgaard’s strength.’

  ‘In combat they are unyielding as solid rock,’ added the other. ‘War is a craft for them, and they provide their service for money, as you can easily deduce by their songs.’

  The company approached at a walk, their singing thundering above their heads, but with a strangely discordant note.

  No sceptre nor throne do we serve,

  No alliances with kings,

  We serve the coin, like the golden sun,

  At its order, we swiftly obey!

  We do not take your oaths,

  We bow to no flag nor kiss hands,

  We serve the coin, which shines like the sun

  Our oath we give eternal.

  ‘I would like to serve with them,’ Melfi breathed again. ‘To fight at their side. Capturing fortune and fame.’

  ‘Do my eyes deceive me?’ Okultich furrowed his brow. ‘Who rides at the head of the crowd? A female? Are these mercenaries fighting under the command of women?’

  ‘She is not just any woman,’ growled the landsknecht. ‘It is Julia Abatemarco who they call Pretty Kitty. All of her enemies tremble before her. This company comprises barely a thousand men, but before the gates of Mayena they cut down three thousand Black ones and elves.’

  ‘I heard,’ Pike said in a humble, yet disgustingly vitriolic tone, ‘that famous victory was for nothing, that the gold coins used for their pay was wasted unnecessarily. Nilfgaard recovered and again inflicted on our people a good lesson. They besieged Mayena again. Maybe even took it. Maybe they are stretching their strength to the north. Maybe they Nilfgaard bought these well-paid mercenaries. Maybe…’

  ‘Maybe,’ interrupted the landsknecht coldly, ‘you want me to smash your lying mouth, bastard! And yet you’re lucky, because barking against one’s own army is punishable by hanging. So hold your tongue before I run out of patience!’

  ‘Oooh!’ the burly Klaproth said, opening his mouth widely. ‘Oh, look at you! Dwarfs are more fun!’

  On the road, under the deafening din of drums, the blaring of bagpipes and the shrill whistle of fifes, marched a formation of infantry armed with halberds, battle-axes and spiked flails. Clad in pointed helmets, leather and chain shirts were soldiers far smaller than usual.

  ‘Dwarves of the mountains,’ said the landsknecht. ‘Some of the regiments of the Mahakam Volunteer Army.’

  ‘I thought,’ said Okultich, ‘the dwarves fought against us. That these filthy tadpoles betrayed us to the Black ones…’

  ‘You thought?’ the landsknecht looked at him with pity. ‘I wonder what with? If you swallowed a cockroach in you soup, dolt, you would have more intellect in your gut than in your head. Those who march there are one of the dwarven regiments of infantry, sent to aid us by Brouver Hoog, Governor of Mahakam. They have already entered combat, suffering heavy casualties during the battle of Mayena they drove back the Black ones.’

  ‘Dwarves are brave people,’ confirmed Melfi. ‘I met one once, at an inn in Ellander during the celebration of Saovine and he gave me such a slap in the
ear that I had a ringing in them until the feast of Yule.

  ‘The regiment of dwarves is the last column,’ the landsknecht shaded his eyes with his hand. ‘End of the parade. The road will be free soon. Let’s get moving it is almost noon.’

  ‘So many people are moving arms to the south,’ nodded the merchant. ‘There will be a great war, a great misfortune. People will perish by fire and sword by the thousands. Did you, gentlemen, see the comet in the firmament night after night, dragging a red tail behind it? When a comet has a pale tail, it announces disease and epidemics, plague, cholera and

  leprosy, a comet with a bluish tail portents disaster, floods, cloudbursts, or prolonged rain. A red color indicates that t is a comet of fire and blood and iron that are born of fire. Severe disasters will fall on people, death and bloodshed. What is said in the old prophecy – corpses will cover the earth, hear the howl of the wolves and those who miraculously survive, will cry with happiness when they find traces of another living person… Woe to us!’

  ‘Why us?’ the landsknecht interrupted coldly. ‘The comet is flying high, certainly it can be seen from Nilfgaard. And the Ina valley, where Menno Coehoorn camps. If it can be seen by the Black ones, why not believe that it portends disaster and misfortune for them and not us.’

  ‘Right!’ agreed the second landsknecht. ‘Woe to the Black ones!’

  ‘You, gentlemen, are exceedingly clever.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  They left the woods and went into meadows and pastures surrounding Vizima. Here grazed herds of horses used for riding and towing. Now in March, the grass in the meadow was scarce, but in the meadow stood wagons filled with hay.

  ‘I cannot believe my eyes,’ Okultich licked his lips. ‘Herds of horses and no one watching them! Just choose one and…’

  ‘Shut up,’ growled Pike from between his teeth, smiling at the mercenaries, ‘This one, gentlemen, is dying to serve in the cavalry. He enjoys looking at horses.’

  ‘Serve in the cavalry?’ the landsknecht spluttered. ‘Have no illusions of riding on horseback. Such as you would be useless unless you were cleaning the stables or moving manure with a bucket and wheelbarrow!’

 
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