"You stupid Birkan, you country-bred blockhead with sawdust for brains! Don't you even know what standing at attention means?"
"Yes, sir!"
"At ease!"
As Victor stepped into the city's outer courtyard, a burly, powerfully built, bald officer was pacing before fifty Nilfgaardian soldiers and drilling them. The Black Ones were easy to recognize by their distinctive winged helmets.
"Listen carefully! We all serve the Emperor, whether we're in Nilfgaard or here!"
The witcher walked past them. The officer giving the speech wore a permanently sour expression, deep lines running downward from his thin lips, while his narrow eyes gleamed coldly.
"We serve the Emperor with unwavering loyalty and zeal!"
Victor withdrew his curious gaze and kept his eyes firmly ahead.
This was the sort of man you didn't want to stare at for too long, the kind who would march straight over and bark, "What are you staring at? Keep looking and see what happens!"
"If any one of you gives me reason to question your loyalty, I'll skin you alive!"
His tone was utterly serious, without the slightest hint that he might be joking.
After putting some distance between themselves and the Black Ones, Siegfried rubbed a finger beneath his nose.
"Be careful around that man while you're in Loc Muinne. 'Tombstone' Renuald aep Matsen. A fanatical devotee of Emhyr. Every morning, you can see him leading his men out here for drills."
"That's quite a nickname. Thanks for the warning. I'll keep an eye on him."
"Actually, perhaps I said that backward. Maybe he's the one who should be careful around you. When it comes to the length of your list of titles, you have an overwhelming advantage. I heard your latest addition was 'Kayran Slayer'?"
Victor rolled his eyes at Siegfried's teasing.
They continued through the abandoned city of Loc Muinne. Green ivy spread across collapsed walls and ruined buildings, faintly preserving traces of the prosperity that had once existed here.
Some of the houses were still sturdy enough to keep out the wind and rain. Combined with the crowds brought by the peace summit, this had attracted quite a few merchants to the roadside. They sold more than food and drink, their stalls also displayed all manner of magical items.
The terrain rose and fell beneath them as the two stepped across toppled stone monuments and headed toward the western district.
"Actually, there's something I wanted to ask you yesterday. You seem to have changed somewhat... I'm not saying your judgment was wrong. If Patrick gets the opportunity, he'll definitely hurt Angoulême. But the old you seemed more tolerant. You wouldn't have developed murderous intent toward someone so easily."
"Hmm... I've noticed it too. In the end, this cruel world has finally changed a gentle soul like me."
Siegfried rolled his eyes at Victor's defense.
Neither spoke again until they reached the place where banners bearing the crowned silver eagle fluttered overhead.
"Long live Radovid!"
The gate guards wore chainmail and carried long polearms. One of them raised a hand to stop the pair.
"Halt, Sir Siegfried. Who is this witcher? He doesn't appear to have received an official invitation."
"Victor of Kaer Trolde, the Dragonborn Bard," Siegfried answered calmly. "He has important information concerning the Kingslayer."
A nearby guard holding a heavy crossbow spat onto the ground.
"The Kingslayer? Everyone knows the witcher from Rivia is the murderer. You're a witcher too. Are you certain bringing him inside won't endanger the King of Redania?"
"Don't make decisions for the king, Tut! His Majesty will want to see him.
"I've known this gentleman for quite some time. I trust him as much as I trust myself. Besides, this camp is packed with soldiers. Unless he intends to commit suicide, he wouldn't choose this place to assassinate His Majesty.
"If you insist on refusing him entry, then let him wait here while I go inside alone and make my report.
"But believe me, the king won't be pleased when he hears about this."
Tut exchanged a glance with the polearm-wielding guard.
They silently reached an agreement and stepped aside.
"Long live Radovid!"
...
As they walked through the heavily guarded camp, Victor noticed that not all the Redanian soldiers slept in tents. Many had moved into abandoned houses, hanging banners from them and furnishing them anew.
The residence occupied by Radovid V stood in an especially well-preserved upper-class quarter. Even after centuries, the artistic patterns carved into its walls remained clearly visible.
Following Siegfried, Victor entered an informal audience chamber and once again saw the young bald king he had not met in quite some time.
Radovid had matured considerably. With a full beard now framing his face, he even looked rather handsome.
He wore a crown, a red cloak, and ornate golden armor, with a noble smile resting at the corners of his mouth.
The room was brightly illuminated.
Spread across a wide table was a large map, one Victor knew well, a map of the Pontar Valley.
Radovid rubbed his cheek.
"What an unusual guest... Victor Corion. As always, you seem to appear precisely when I have need of you.
"And seeing you in the company of a Knight of the Rose is even more surprising. Are you perhaps preparing to join my Order?"
"I'm afraid not, Your Majesty. As a witcher, Siegfried and I are simply friends. I happened to encounter him while entering the city. I'm not yet prepared to enter your service, especially when the work has nothing to do with killing monsters."
"Then that's convenient. At present, I happen to be threatened by a potential... monster. I'm not interested in details. I care about results. Master Victor, perhaps you'd be interested in signing a long-term contract with me? How does serving as my personal bodyguard sound?"
"I must decline, Your Majesty. I'm not suited to being a bodyguard."
Victor placed a hand over his chest and bowed slightly, expressing his regret.
"I thought you once served Adda. Witcher... tread carefully. You're stepping onto slippery grass covered in some very unpleasant cow shit. I'm not a man accustomed to being refused."
"Your Majesty, I'd rather not waste your time. The queen must have told you what happened back then. I served her because her curse was directly related to my profession. I don't involve myself in politics. Doing so would violate the witcher's code."
"I usually get what I want!"
Radovid's gaze sharpened.
Now that the young bald king had finally escaped Philippa's influence, his true nature was beginning to emerge without restraint.
Victor merely smiled gently.
"I still refuse. That sort of work makes me uncomfortable, and a bodyguard suffering from a moral dilemma is unlikely to provide the best possible protection. As Your Majesty knows, the story of King Foltest and Geralt happened only recently."
"That sounds reasonable, but I could almost swear there was a threat hidden in there."
"Absolutely not."
"Hahahaha! Witcher, congratulations. You've managed to anger me and entertain me at the same time, so I'll forgive you."
The king leaned dramatically back in his chair and gestured for Victor to sit opposite him.
An attendant immediately brought over a goblet and poured wine.
"I've heard Henselt was attacked by a Kingslayer, and that without you, he might very well have died at Vergen. Is that true?"
The witcher pulled out a chair and sat down.
"My reputation always travels faster than I do, and it tends to exaggerate along the way. I was indeed present and contributed in a minor capacity, but that was purely by chance. The man who truly protected the king was his loyal adviser, Dethmold."
"I enjoy rumors, but I don't trust them... They pass from soldier to soldier, then from prostitutes to barons, and eventually they reach royal ears."
The king suddenly sighed and tapped the table.
"Since we met in Vizima several months ago, the world has changed enormously. Many things that should never have happened have become reality.
"Temeria is on the brink of civil war. Kaedwen tried to seize the Pontar Valley by force. And now Nilfgaard's official representative will play an important role at a summit of the Northern Kingdoms."
He slammed a fist onto the map.
"Foltest and Demavend are both dead. The Peace of Cintra that we signed together already feels like a relic of another age."
When speaking of his father-in-law, genuine sorrow appeared on Radovid's handsome face.
At least, it looked genuine.
If Victor weren't certain that Radovid had secretly funded Jacques' rebellion, he would have completely believed the display.
The king's lament also stirred Victor's curiosity.
"Your Majesty, I'd like to know why the Nilfgaardian ambassador was allowed to appear in Loc Muinne. Aside from open provocation and covert manipulation, does his presence contribute anything positive to peace?"
"Henselt invited him. Perhaps he hoped the Black Ones would recognize his claim over the Pontar Valley, or even help him divide a chaotic Aedirn.
"Henselt's greed clouded his judgment. Fortunately, that peasant girl from Aedirn... Saskia, if I remember correctly, crushed his ambitions?
"Unfortunately, Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen would never pass up an opportunity like this. He'll participate in the negotiations and perform the role he enjoys most."
Hearing the king bring up the Dragonslayer on his own, Victor coughed and cleared his throat.
"Actually, Your Majesty, I'd like to ask for your help regarding this woman, Saskia, the Virgin of Aedirn. Do you have any further information about her?"
Radovid stroked his chin and considered the question for a moment.
"I know she's staying in the Trade Quarter. There are several reasonably good vacant residences there. Beginning a week ago, she came to see me every day, hoping to gain recognition of her rule over the Pontar Valley. Her request isn't something I can decide lightly.
"She hasn't appeared since the day before yesterday. Perhaps you could investigate."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. In exchange, according to what I know, the band of Kingslayers responsible for attacking Temeria, Aedirn, and Kaedwen was acting under the direction of Síle de Tansarville."
"You're certain!? How did you learn that?"
"After the assassination operations ended, I tracked down one of the killers. Before he died, despair drove him to tell me the role Tansarville had played."
"Convincing. That explains many things. Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen warned me not long ago that a sinister conspiracy was underway.
"Triss Merigold testified that long before the Council of Mages was to be restored, a secret Lodge of Sorceresses had already been established. They sought to murder kings so they could seize control and manipulate the world."
"Triss is cooperating with Shilard!?"
"She's being detained as a suspect. Shilard believes Nilfgaardian sorceresses are also members of this sinister organization."
"Incredible... Thank you for the information, Your Majesty. That's extremely useful. You mentioned earlier that you needed my help. Please, tell me what you require."
"That's what I like about you, witcher. No wonder I've always liked you.
"King Henselt of Kaedwen has just arrived. Naturally, he refuses to speak about his defeat at Vergen, but everyone knows what happened.
"When negotiations begin tomorrow, countless jackals and hyenas will descend upon Temeria, eager to see the kingdom suffer a miserable fate. Despicable nobles, and yes, I mean Count Maravel and Baron Kimbolt, intend to exploit the absence of a ruler and divide the kingdom into multiple provinces. Others are already stirring up trouble in Vizima.
"Temeria once united the four Northern Kingdoms against Nilfgaard and forced the Black Ones back south. But now, with arrogant magnates and petty warlords dividing the realm, I'm afraid Nilfgaardian cavalry would ride over them with ease.
"Henselt contacted me. He wants us to join forces and share the Temerian feast between us. I haven't agreed. I've merely been stringing him along.
"I feel deeply for my wife's homeland, and I wish to look after Anaïs and place Temeria under my protection."
The name Anaïs made Victor frown.
"You've heard that name? Anaïs La Valette, daughter of Maria Louisa and Foltest. She also has a younger brother, Boussy.
"Not long ago, when the Baroness fled to Nilfgaard, John Natalis managed to secure the boy, while the girl fell into the hands of the Black Ones.
"But Boussy died in an accident on the road back to Vizima. That makes Anaïs the most viable heir. My men have learned that she's currently in Loc Muinne, inside the northern camp."
Victor had already developed a good idea of what those nobles were capable of.
If they could even fabricate an incest scandal involving Aryan and his own mother, then arranging the death of a little boy would hardly be difficult.
Victor hadn't known Boussy well, but he had at least met him before.
"What exactly happened in Boussy's accident? And why was Anaïs brought to Loc Muinne?"
Radovid gestured for his attendants to remove the map and replace it with a chessboard bearing a half-finished game.
The king stared thoughtfully at the remaining pieces.
"Victor, as someone capable of playing chess against me, your understanding of the game should be sufficient to realize that Boussy's 'accident' was inevitable.
"I don't care about the details. If you want them, go across the city and speak with Natalis. But I doubt you'll find the murderer. And even if you did, what difference would it make?"
Apparently, Radovid had been playing both sides of the board against himself.
He moved a white knight and captured a black rook, then gestured for Victor to take over the black pieces.
"Henselt's army has just arrived. Nilfgaard intends to hand Anaïs over to him tonight."
"Why would Nilfgaard do that? What does Kaedwen want with Anaïs?"
"Exactly as you said, open provocation and covert manipulation. There's nothing surprising about it. But if Henselt gains custody of Anaïs, he can use the pretense of protecting her to pressure me during negotiations over Temeria's partition.
"That girl is the key to everything. At tomorrow's peace summit, she will either be Temeria's salvation or its nightmare.
"I cannot launch an armed attack against the Nilfgaardians. That would amount to a declaration of war, and the entire reason we've gathered here is supposedly to preserve peace.
"But things are different for a witcher, especially a chivalrous one from far-off Skellige."
Radovid gestured, and an attendant presented Victor with a large bag of gold coins.
"Victor, bring Anaïs to me. I promise you that I will preserve a united Temeria and punish those whose hands are stained with Foltest's blood."
Victor considered the matter for a moment.
He didn't touch the chess pieces.
Instead, he picked up the bag of money and abruptly rose to his feet.
Just before leaving, he suddenly turned around.
"Your Majesty, one more question. Why did you bring the knights of the Order with you?"
"The Order of the Flaming Rose is here to ensure the negotiations proceed peacefully. We intend to prevent another tragedy like Thanedd Island."
With his answer obtained, the witcher left the Redanian camp.
...
Back on the street, Victor hesitated.
Before coming to this world, he had watched a film called Minority Report.
It told the story of a world plagued by murder and crime, where a special law-enforcement division relied on extraordinarily accurate predictions from precogs to arrest and imprison people who were supposedly about to commit crimes.
"What arrogance does it take to judge someone for a crime they haven't yet committed?"
"How far should someone go to prevent an evil that might happen in the future?"
The film offered no definitive answers to those questions.
Perhaps there were no definitive answers.
Everything depended on where you stood.
If you took the concept of unlimited self-defense to its extreme, then any person, organization, or object that posed a potential threat deserved to be destroyed.
Naturally, such an approach was hardly acceptable.
Radovid V.
In Victor's memories of his previous life, he was unquestionably a ruthless figure.
Victor had disliked him in the game.
But truthfully, the man standing before him now seemed rather decent.
Capable, mild-mannered, intelligent, and generous with money.
Especially that last part.
Just as Siegfried had said, Radovid might not be the best man in the world, but there wasn't much to complain about.
Still, because of the impression left by his memories from his previous life, Victor wanted to hear what someone else had to say.
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