The Tower of the Swallow by Andrzej Sapkowski
‘I'm sure,’ Vysogota said quietly, ‘if you went to Tor Zireael, the portal there would reveal itself to you as well. Even if it were in ruins, surrounded by bare stones, I'm sure you could find and activate it. And it would, I'm sure, obey your command. Because Ciri, I think you are the chosen one.’
‘Your hair, Triss, is like fire in the candlelight. And your eyes are like Lapis Lazuli. Your lips are like coral...’
‘Stop it, Crach. Are you drunk or what? Pour me some wine. And talk.’
‘About what?’
‘Don't be stupid! Of how Yennefer decided to go to the Sedna-Depth.’
‘How do you progress? Talk, Yennefer.’
‘First you will answer me one question: Who are those two women I meet every time I come to you? The ones that look at me every time with looks that are usually reserved for a piece of cat shit lying on the sofa? Who are they?’
‘Are you after their formal legal status or fact?’
‘The latter.’
‘They are my wives.’
‘I understand. Perhaps you should explain to them, when the opportunity arises, that the past is the past and was not written into the register.’
‘I have. But women are women. Never mind. Tell me, Yennefer. I'm interested in the progress of your work.’
The sorceress bit her lips. ‘Unfortunately, the progress is minimal. And time is running out.’
‘It is running out.’ He nodded. ‘And always brings new sensations. I have received news from the continent that will interest you. It comes from Corps of Vissegerd. Hopefully you know who Vissegerd is?’
‘A general from Cintra?’
‘A marshal. More precisely, chamberlain. He leads a part of the Temerian Army consisting of Cintran emigrants and volunteers. There are more than enough volunteers from the islands to give pass messages first-hand.’
‘And what are they?’
‘You came here to Skellige on the nineteenth day of August, two days after full moon. On the same day, i.e. on the nineteenth, the Corps of Vissegerd, in the course of fighting on the River Ina, took in a group of refugees, among them Geralt and a troubadour that is known to him...’
‘Dandelion?’
‘Exactly. Vissegerd accused both of espionage, placed them under arrest, and wanted to put them to death, but the two prisoners escaped and rushed towards the Nilfgaardians that Vissegerd had alleged they were plotting with.’
‘Nonsense.’
‘I think so too. But I'm feeling that the witcher, contrary to what you think, is perhaps pursuing some cunning plan. That he is going to save Ciri from the Nilfgaardian creeps...’
‘Ciri is not in Nilfgaard. And Geralt does not pursue any plan. Planning is not one of his strong points. Never mind. What is important is that it is the twenty-sixth day of September and I still know too little. Not enough to do something... Unless...’
She trailed off, looking out the window, and played with the black velvet ribbon attached to the star of obsidian.
‘Unless?’
‘Instead of me laughing at Geralt, I could try his method.’
‘I do not understand.’
‘I could try to sacrifice myself. Sacrifice will pay off, yes, show good character... And it is in the shape of the grace of a goddess. She loves and appreciates those who sacrifice and suffer for a cause.’
He frowned. ‘I still do not understand. But I don't like what you are saying, Yennefer.’
‘I know. Me neither. But I've already gone too far... Perhaps the lion should hear the lamb’s complaint...’
‘I was afraid of that,’ whispered Triss. ‘That’s exactly what I was afraid of.’
‘I mean, I understood it at that time.’ Crach an Craite’s jaw muscles began to tense. ‘Yennefer knew that someone had eavesdropped on the conversations she had through her infernal machine. Or that one of the interlocutors was treacherously telling...’
‘Or both.’
‘She knew it.’ Crach gritted his teeth. ‘But she still continued what she started. Perhaps because she needed a decoy? Using herself as the bait? Did she pretend to know more than she did to provoke the enemy? And so she went to the Sedna-Depth...’
‘As a challenge. As a provocation. She was taking a terrible risk, Crach.’
‘I know. She did not want any of us to run the risk... only volunteers. So she asked for two dragon boats...’
‘I have the two ships you asked for. The ‘Alcyone’ and the ‘Tamara’. And the crew. The ‘Alcyone' is captained by Guthlaf, son of Sven, because he asked for the honor. You must have impressed him Yennefer.
The ‘Tamara’ will be captained by Asa Thjazi, a captain in whom I have absolute confidence. Oh, I almost forgot. My son will be on the crew of ‘Tamara’, Hjalmar-Slackjaw.’
‘Your son? How old is he?’
‘Nineteen.’
‘You started early.’
‘Look who’s talking. Hjalmar has personal reasons to ask to be included in the crew. I could not refuse him.’
‘Personal reasons?’
‘Do you really not know the story?’
‘No. Tell me.’
Crach an Craite emptied his drinking horn and smiled, reflecting on his memoirs.
‘The children of Ard Skellig,’ he began, ‘love ice skating in the winter, they can hardly wait for the first frost to come. They are always the first to walk on the barely frozen lakes, on sheets of ice so thin that they could not support an adult. Of course, the races are the best. Running and gaining momentum like there's no tomorrow, from one shore to another. The boys, however, also organize competitions that are called ‘Salmon Jumps’. The idea is to jump over the crags that rise from the ice like shark’s teeth. Just like a salmon when it jumps up the steps of a waterfall. You look for a suitably long line of stones, take off , and... Ha, I'm jumping around like a snot nosed brat myself...’
Crach an Craite became thoughtful and smiled a little.
‘Naturally,’ he continued, ‘whoever skips the longest series of rocks wins and afterwards flaunts himself like a peacock. At that time, Yennefer, the winner is often bestowed Yours Truly as their humble servant for a day, oho. That is mainly what interested my son, Hjalmar. He leapt over rocks that none of the other boys dared jump. And this led to a highly raised nose – he challenged anyone to try to defeat him. And his challenge was accepted. By Ciri, Pavetta’s daughter from Cintra. She was not even one of the islanders, although she was allowed because she had spent more time here than in Cintra.’
‘Even after Pavetta's accident? I thought Calanthe had forbidden her to stay here?’
‘You know about that?’ He shot her a quick glance. ‘Then you know a lot Yennefer. A lot. Calanthe's anger and bans lasted no longer than six months, and then Ciri once again started to spend summers and winters here... and to skate. She was quick as hell, but that she would compete with the other boys in ‘Salmon Jumps’? And challenge Hjalmar? Inconceivable!’
‘She jumped’, guessed the sorceress.
‘Yes. This small Cintran could jump like a half-devil. A real lion cub from the blood of the lion. And Hjalmar, in order to not be made a mockery of, had to risk taking a leap over an even longer series of rocks. He risked it. He broke his leg, his arm, four ribs, and smashed his face. The scar will remain with him until death. Hjalmar-Slackjaw! And his famous fiancée. Hehe!’
‘Fiancée?’
‘You didn’t know that either? How can you know so much about some things and nothing at all about others? She came to visit him, as he lay recovering from the famous leap. She read to him, talked with him, held hands with him... And if someone entered the room, they both turned as red as radishes. Well, finally Hjalmar told me that they had gotten engaged. I nearly had a stroke. I told the brat I’d arrange an engagement for him, but with a bullwhip! And I was a bit worried because I’d noticed that the lion cub had hot blood. Even when everything went smoothly, she was a daredevil, not to mention a little crazy... Fortunately, Hj
‘How old were they then?’
‘He was fifteen, she nearly twelve.’
‘Your fears might have been exaggerated a little.’
‘Perhaps. But Calanthe, who I had to tell all of it to, did not take the matter lightly. I know she had wedding plans for Ciri, to join her with young Tancred Thyssen of Kovir or perhaps to the Redanian prince, Radovid, I don’t know exactly. But rumors can hurt marriage plans, even rumors about innocent kissing or semi-innocent kissing... Calanthe immediately brought Ciri back to Cintra. The girl bucked and howled snot and water, but to no avail. The Lioness of Cintra put her foot down. For the following two days, Hjalmar lay with his face to the wall and would answer no one. Once he was healthy again, he tried to steal a skiff and sail off to Cintra alone. He had to be calmed down somewhat by my belt. But then...’
Crach an Craite stopped to think.
‘Then came the summer, and then autumn, and soon enough the power of Nilfgaard rolled forth against Cintra, over the Marnadal-Stairs, over the south wall. Hjalmar found a different opportunity to become a man. He boldly defied the blacks at Marnadal, then in Cintra, and then in Sodden. Even later, when the dragon boats sailed to the Nilfgaardian coast, Hjalmar had a sword in his hand, retaliating for his almost-fiancée, who he thought to be dead at the time. I did not think so, since the phenomena I told you of earlier had not occurred... Well, now that Hjalmar has learned of a possible rescue expedition, he has volunteered.’
‘Thank you for the story, Crach. I feel rejuvenated after listening to it. It made me... forget my worries.’
‘When will you set out, Yennefer?’
‘In the coming days. Possibly even tomorrow. I have one last telecommunication I need to conduct.’
Crach an Craite’s eyes were like a hawk’s. They drilled deep inside her...
‘By chance, do you happen to know, Triss Merigold, who Yennefer conducted her last call with before she took her infernal machine apart? On the night of the twenty-seventh to the twenty-eighth of August? With whom? And about what?’
Triss shut her eyelashes to hide from his eyes.
The brilliant beam of light, broken by the diamond, flashed on the surface of the mirror. Yennefer stretched out both hands and began chanting a spell. The blindingly bright light reflected and concentrated into a fog. Soon a picture began to emerge. The image of a room whose walls were covered with colorful tapestries.
A movement at the window. And a troubled voice. ‘Who? Who's there?’
‘I'm here, Triss.’
‘Yennefer! That you? Gods! How did... Where are you?’
‘It does not matter where I am. Do not block the image, because the picture varies. And take away that candle, its blinding.’
‘Right. Of course.’
Although it was late at night, Triss Merigold was wearing neither lingerie nor her work clothes. She wore a dress for going out. As usual, high collared and closed.
‘Can we talk freely?’
‘Of course.’
‘You're alone?’
‘Yes.’
‘You're lying.’
‘Yennefer...’
‘You are deceiving me, brat. I know your face; I know you too well. It’s the same look you had when you started sleeping with Geralt behind my back. Back then you put on the same sheepish, innocent mask that I see on your face now. And it means the same thing now that it meant back then!’
Triss was red. Philippa Eilhart appeared in the window next to her, dressed in a dark blue men’s jerkin. ‘Bravo,’ she said. ‘As usual, quick. As usual, perceptive. As usual, hard to grasp and understand. I am glad to see you in health, Yennefer. I am happy that your crazy teleportation from Montecalvo did not end in tragedy.’
‘Let's assume that you really are happy.’ Yennefer pouted. ‘Although that is a very bold assumption. But never mind that, who betrayed me?’
Philippa shrugged her shoulders. ‘Does it matter? For four days now you’ve been in contact with traitors. To such as them, venality and treachery are second nature. And to those that you have blackmailed to betrayal. One of them has betrayed you. The normal course of events. Don't tell me you didn't expect it.’
‘Of course I expected it,’ snapped Yennefer. ‘The best proof of that is that I've contacted you. I did not have to.’
‘You did not have to. This means that you have an agenda.’
‘Bravo. As usual, quick. As usual, perceptive. I have contacted you to assure you that the secret of your Lodge is safe with me. I will not tell on you.’
Philippa stared at her from under lowered eyelids. ‘If you believe,’ she said finally, ‘that you've won peace, time, or security with this declaration, then you've miscalculated. Make no mistake about it, Yennefer. When you fled from Montecalvo, you made your decision. You chose to stand on a different side of the barricade. If you are not with the Lodge, you are against the Lodge. Now you're trying to forestall us from finding Ciri, and the motives that guide you are opposed to ours. You act against us. You do not want to allow us to use Ciri for our political purposes. You should know that we will also do everything in our power to make sure that you cannot use the girl for your sentimental purposes.’
‘So its war?’
‘Competition.’ Philippa smiled toxically. ‘Competition only, Yennefer.’
‘Decent and honorable?’
‘You must be joking.’
‘Obviously. Though on at least one specific issue, I would like have an honest and genuine conversation. And incidentally it involves a favor to me.’
‘Speak.’
‘Over the next few days, maybe even tomorrow, events will occur whose consequences I cannot foresee. It may happen that our competition and rivalry suddenly has no meaning. For the simple reason that one of the competitors will not be there anymore.’
Philippa Eilhart narrowed her blue shaded eyes. ‘I understand.’
‘Ensure that I posthumously gain back my reputation and good name. I will no longer be held for a traitor or an accomplice of Vilgefortz. I ask this of the Lodge. I ask this of you personally.’
Philippa was silent for a moment.
‘I deny your request,’ she said finally. ‘I'm sorry, but your exoneration is not in the interest of the Lodge. If you die, you die a traitor. You'll be a traitor and criminal to Ciri, because then it will be easier to manipulate the girl.’
‘Before you do something that could be fatal,’ Triss said suddenly, ‘leave something behind for us...’
‘A will?’
‘Something that allows us to... continue. To find Ciri. Because we are primarily concerned for her health! For her life! Yennefer, Dijkstra has found some traces of... some traces of certain activities have been found. If Vilgefortz does have Ciri, then the girl faces a horrible death.’
‘Be quiet, Triss,’ Philippa Eilhart hissed sharply. ‘We are not trading or bargaining.’
‘I will leave you the information’, Yennefer said slowly. ‘I'll leave you the information on what I've found and what I plan. I’ll leave a trail you can follow to her. But not in vain. If you will not facilitate my exoneration in the eyes of the world, then to hell with you and with the world. But at least grant me exoneration in the eyes of the witcher.’
‘No,’ Philippa denied the request almost instantly. ‘That is also not in the interest of the Lodge. You will also remain a traitor and a mercenary sorceress to your witcher. It is not in the interest of the Lodge for him to furiously attempt to avenge you. If he despises you, he will not attempt to take revenge. By the way, he's probably already dead or will die any day now.’
‘The information’ Yennefer said dully, ‘for his life. Save him, Philippa.’
‘No, Yennefer.’
‘Because it's not in the interest of the Lodge.’ A purple fire kindled in the sorceress’ eyes. ‘Did you hear that Triss? There, you have your Lodge. You see their true colors,
‘Do not attack Triss’ relationships, Yennefer.’ Philippa retaliated with her own fire in her eyes. ‘We will find and rescue the girl without your help. And if you succeed, that's fine, a thousand thanks, because you will have saved us the trouble. You tear the girl out of the hands of Vilgefortz and we will be happy. And Geralt? Who cares about Geralt?’
‘Did you hear that, Triss?’
‘Forgive me,’ said Triss Merigold dully. ‘Forgive me, Yennefer.’
‘Oh no, Triss. Never.’
Triss stared at the ground. Crach an Craite’s eyes were like a hawk’s.
‘The day after this last mysterious communication,’ the Earl of the Skellige Islands said slowly,’ – of which you, Triss Merigold, know nothing about of course – Yennefer left the island, setting a course for the Sedna-Depth. When I asked her why she was going there, she looked into my eyes and replied that she had to check whether the natural disasters there were any different from the unnatural. She travelled with two dragon boats, the ‘Tamara’ and the ‘Alcyone’, and with a crew composed entirely of volunteers. This was the twenty-eighth of August, two weeks ago. I have not seen her since.’
‘When did you hear...’
‘Five days later’, he interrupted sharply. ‘Three days after the September moon.’
Captain Asa Thjazi, who sat in front of the Earl, was restless. He licked his lips and slid back and forth on the bench, fingers kneaded so that his knuckles cracked. The red sun, which had finally emerged from the low hanging clouds in the sky, slowly started to sink behind Spikeroog. ‘Speak, Asa,’ Crach an Craite ordered.
Asa Thjazi coughed violently. ‘We travelled fast,’ he reported, ‘the wind was favorable and we made a good twelve knots. On the evening of the twenty-ninth, we saw the lights of the Peixe de Mar lighthouse. We shot a little to the west, so as to not encounter any Nilfgaardians... And at dawn on the day prior to the September moon, we came to area known as the Sedna-Depth. The sorceress cried for Guthlaf and me to...’