Late at night in Vergen's upper district, Angoulême and Geralt were drinking and talking inside Victor's Alchemy Workshop.
"...Geralt, tell me exactly how we're supposed to lift the spectral mist. Otherwise, after following you all over the place today, I still have no idea what we were actually doing!" Angoulême complained with an indignant pout.
Geralt smiled. She had a point.
He did not know why Victor was in no hurry to lift the curse, but since Angoulême had already declared her determination to become a witcher, there was no harm in exposing her to this kind of knowledge early.
"To lift the curse, you first need to understand what happened during the war several years ago, the Second Lormark War and the Battle of Vergen.
"Cecil Burdon, the mayor you introduced me to this afternoon, along with Yarpen and Zoltan, each described the parts they personally experienced. When I combined their accounts with the information I gathered in the Kaedweni camp, I was able to reconstruct the following story.
"In November 1268, Kaedwen sent troops against Vergen in Upper Aedirn and went to war with Aedirn, the former ally that had fought Nilfgaard beside it not long before.
"Their objective was to reclaim Upper Aedirn, the territory Henselt called Lormark.
"On the afternoon of the battle, the Kaedweni general Vandergrift launched an attack with four thousand heavily armed soldiers. He sent the Dun Banner forward in the first assault.
"The Dun Banner had earned its fame during the wars against Nilfgaard. Originally a Kaedweni light cavalry regiment that patrolled the region around Ban Gleán, it proved its courage during the campaign in Upper Aedirn after being sent to the front. Its heroic performance at the Battle of Brenna later made the unit truly famous.
"When the local Aedirnian defenders saw the Dun Banner's standard, they lost the will to fight. Many immediately fell into despair and prepared to surrender.
"Fortunately, Aedirn's spies had learned of Kaedwen's movements in advance. The forces from Vengerberg, Aldersberg, and Gulet that had come to take part in the defense quickly entered the battle.
"The Aedirnians had more than five thousand soldiers. Their commander, Seltkirk, personally led the resistance against the Kaedweni invasion in hopes of turning the tide.
"Wherever he went, the Kaedweni soldiers were forced to retreat. The Aedirnian defenders successfully repelled the Dun Banner and captured its standard.
"Vandergrift was eventually forced to confront him personally on the battlefield, and in the end, Vandergrift killed Seltkirk.
"However, when the battle dragged on until evening, the Aedirnian defenders had already gained a slight advantage. Under cover of darkness, they launched a surprise attack.
"They had prepared fire traps in advance, and their archers ignited them at precisely the right moment. The ambush against the Kaedweni forces went smoothly.
"During this war, Sabrina Glevissig, Henselt's court sorceress and royal adviser, was overseeing the battle.
"Perhaps the prolonged fighting displeased her. When the two armies continued their fierce struggle into the evening, Sabrina decided to resolve the problem personally.
"She unleashed Melgar's Fire.
"Fireballs rained down upon the battlefield. Thousands of soldiers locked in combat were instantly reduced to pools of blood, charred corpses, and shredded pieces of flesh.
"The flames consumed Kaedweni and Aedirnian soldiers alike.
"Only a few dozen survived.
"They lived because a priest of Melitele named Chrest was present on the battlefield. A medallion he carried emitted a gentle light, protecting him and everyone nearby.
"None of the fireballs could penetrate its defenses. The survivors followed the priest and escaped from that land of death.
"The consequences of casting that spell led Sabrina to her own death.
"An enraged King Henselt found her guilty. She was taken to the battlefield, bound to a wheel, and executed by impalement.
"Before dying, the furious sorceress uttered a curse, condemning Henselt to never conquer Vergen.
"From then on, the rocky ravines outside Vergen were replaced by a vast plain riddled with trenches and craters created by trebuchet stones and the sorceress's magical explosions.
"Part of the battlefield became a spreading red grassland covered in rusted armor and the bleached bones of the dead.
"Worse still, whenever Sabrina's curse becomes active, most of the battlefield is engulfed in a strange mist.
"Within that mist lies something resembling an extension of a nightmare realm. The ghosts of the fallen endlessly reenact the battle that claimed their lives, and anyone who enters faces almost certain death.
"Have you noticed the important words so far?"
Angoulême propped her chin on one hand.
"So that's why you had me take you into the tombs to find the Dun Banner's standard, ask Sir Skalen for Seltkirk's armor, and look for Vandergrift's sword?"
"Exactly. Because of a past grudge, Vandergrift named his sword Hatred. He used it to kill Seltkirk during the battle and complete his revenge, turning Vandergrift's sword into the symbol of hatred.
"Second, if Seltkirk had not stepped forward during the battle, Aedirn would have been defeated during the Dun Banner's first assault. His armor therefore became the symbol of courage.
"As for the Dun Banner, which collapsed and was destroyed on the battlefield, its standard became the symbol of death."
"Then the symbol of faith must be Chrest's medallion, right? But that priest seems to have been with the Kaedweni army..." Angoulême asked in confusion.
Geralt nodded with a smile.
"That miraculous medallion is in Henselt's possession. Now that I have gathered the first three objects, I can begin lifting the mist once I return to the other side."
"But I remember Victor saying that even after using the four symbols to recreate the battlefield, you still have to defeat the draug before the curse can be broken. The draug can even summon trebuchets and crossbowmen!"
"He was right. I'll need to be thoroughly prepared. I admit that one of the reasons I originally came to visit was because I intended to cooperate with him."
"Then there's no reason to rush. Wait here one more day. Victor should return from this trip soon.
"Tomorrow, I can also take you to see Philippa Eilhart. Victor found Triss's scarf, and apparently she can use magic to track its owner."
The possibility of obtaining information about Triss changed Geralt's original intention to hurry back.
He decided to remain in Vergen for at least one more day and wait for Victor's return.
...
While the White Wolf and the Golden Eagle discussed the history of the past, history itself was approaching a crucial crossroads, although none of the people present realized it.
Dethmold and the halberd-bearing guards stood around the tent like statues sculpted from clay and stone.
The night air was cool, and the campfire crackled.
Victor was following the king's instructions and explaining how the curse could be lifted when he saw a messenger enter the tent.
Strangely, the man was Redanian.
His surcoat bore a crowned silver eagle on a red field, clutching a golden scepter, while a small black shield marked with a golden cross adorned its breast.
Victor knew that emblem as well as he remembered Radovid's profile.
King Henselt showed no intention of dismissing him, so Victor merely moved a few steps aside, giving the newly arrived Redanian envoy room to speak.
The messenger produced a cylindrical case inlaid with gold at both ends, opened it, and removed a letter.
He began his proclamation with neither humility nor arrogance.
"Radovid V, King of Redania, son of Vizimir and Hedwig of Malleore, King of Novigrad in title, King of Kovir and Poviss in title, Margrave of..."
"Get to the point!" Henselt interrupted, raising one hand. "I know perfectly well who His Majesty Radovid is. I don't need these useless introductions!"
The bald, heavily bearded envoy faltered for a moment before continuing.
"The point is that His Majesty Radovid has confirmed that he will travel to Loc Muinne to attend the summit. He looks forward to meeting Your Majesty there.
"In addition, Regent Natalis of Temeria has declared that the rumors claiming Temeria will be inherited by a bastard after King Foltest's death are false.
"In truth, King Foltest appointed a legitimate heir, Prince Boussy. Unfortunately, the prince has died, so his elder sister Anaïs will inherit the Temerian throne."
Victor's eyelid twitched violently when he heard the news.
Foltest had not appointed a damned thing!
The king had barely laid eyes on the children before his throat was cut. Victor was absolutely certain that Foltest had never designated an heir.
However, it was like one of those quotations falsely attributed to Mark Twain. Once everyone believed he had said it, then for all practical purposes, he had.
King Henselt gave a contemptuous snort.
"Witcher, you took part in the battle at La Valette Castle. Tell me, how old is this princess, and who is her mother?"
Victor carefully considered his words.
"Your Majesty, she is an eight-year-old child. Her mother is Baroness La Valette. She is the king's daughter, and King Foltest was willing to acknowledge her as his own."
Although Foltest had not mentioned the succession that morning when Victor accompanied him, the king had clearly admitted that both children were indeed his.
Out of respect for the dead man's intentions, Victor decided to accept the claim that Foltest had appointed an heir.
At the very least, he would not expose it as a lie.
Henselt rejected the idea in his usual rough voice.
"No! The Foltest I knew would never have done something like that. Take me as an example. If you counted all the bastards I have fathered, there would be at least a hundred of them across Kaedwen."
There was no reason to debate the matter, so Victor remained silent.
Then he heard an extremely faint set of footsteps rapidly approaching the king's tent from the side.
Those were definitely not the steps of a guard.
Who could it be?
Because Victor had moved aside to give the messenger room to make his proclamation, the footsteps were now approaching directly from behind him.
The newcomer was incredibly fast.
The instant the witcher spun around, the canvas wall of the tent split open and a streak of silver light flashed like a gleaming ribbon.
Henselt stumbled backward and roared, "Guards! An assassin!"
Victor would actually have been willing to stand aside and see how things unfolded. He did not care whether Henselt lived or died.
The problem was that the assassin gave him no choice.
Shing!
Without time to think, the witcher drew his steel sword.
Clang!
The King's Guardian intercepted the slash aimed at Victor's neck just in time.
Caught off guard, Victor saw the assassin fling a short blade with his left hand, sending it flying directly at Henselt.
However, the clash with Victor disrupted the assassin's aim. The blade merely grazed the king's shoulder, slicing through his outer robe and leaving a wound.
The assassin and witcher stared into each other's eyes.
For a fleeting instant, time seemed to slow.
One look was enough to confirm that they knew each other.
He was Serrit, a witcher of the School of the Viper.
He was Victor, a witcher of the School of the Wolf.
"Aard!"
"Quen!"
Serrit tried to blast Victor away, but the Aard Sign was stopped by the Quen Sign.
Sensing the flow of magical power behind him as Dethmold began casting a spell, Victor did not hesitate.
Protected by the Quen shield, he charged forward and slammed into Serrit with a brutal shoulder tackle, knocking him out through the side of the tent and away from the spell's target area.
At the same time, Victor exaggeratedly mouthed two words at him.
Run now!
The kingslayers might have devised a meticulous plan, but the camp was heavily defended tonight and had a mage present.
Continuing the fight would only result in a meaningless sacrifice.
"Hah! Clang! Arghhh..."
The sounds of fighting suddenly erupted from inside the tent.
It was Auckes.
Victor immediately realized that the kingslayers had intended to create a diversion.
Serrit was supposed to draw away the guards, allowing Auckes to follow behind and carry out the assassination.
The problem was that Serrit had failed to lure Dethmold away. Instead, Victor had knocked him out of the tent.
Auckes was now facing a fully prepared mage.
Judging by that scream, the odds were against him.
A bolt of lightning suddenly struck the ground beside Serrit's feet.
Victor turned his head and discovered that the spell had been cast by Sheala de Tancarville, the sorceress who theoretically should have been the kingslayers' accomplice.
She was repeatedly hurling spells at the assassin.
After dodging several bolts of lightning, Serrit realized that the plan had failed and had no choice but to retreat.
He quickly vanished into the darkness.
Victor adopted a vigilant defensive stance and refused to pursue him.
Once the dust had settled, the king's triumphant voice rang out from inside the tent.
"That filthy assassin thought he could kill me? It won't be that easy! Hahahaha! Witcher, you did well! Come back inside!"
When Victor returned to the tent, Dethmold was standing beside King Henselt, accompanied by more than a dozen heavily armored guards wielding anti-magic weapons.
In the firelight, Victor could hardly believe the sight before him.
Auckes's corpse lay on the floor.
Magic had blasted a gaping hole through his chest.
That man who was always grinning and laughing had suddenly died here, just like that.
Victor could not accept it.
Not long ago, they had been competing to see who could skip stones farthest across the Yaruga.
He remembered drinking together.
He remembered cheering together.
His vision suddenly blurred, and his throat tightened until he could not speak.
Victor clenched his fists.
Dethmold...
As she passed the witcher, Sheala glanced at him and spoke in a solemn tone.
"What a pity. We failed to capture either of them alive."
"Do not trouble yourself, de Tancarville. There are ways to make a dead man speak," Dethmold said with a sinister chuckle.
Sheala raised her voice.
"I know those methods as well as you do, but necromancy is forbidden."
"The Council of Mages collapsed after the Thanedd coup. It is hardly in any position to tell us what is forbidden.
"And I am certain that everyone present is far more concerned about His Majesty Henselt's safety," Dethmold replied with mocking insinuation.
The King of Kaedwen swept an arrogant gaze from left to right.
"Listen carefully. I want to know everything about these assassins, no matter what method you use. I wouldn't care if you had to dig through every grave in the world."
Sheala's face filled with displeasure.
"Your Majesty, allow me to explain. Necromancy is a branch of magic..."
"I don't care about any of that!" Henselt interrupted with a forceful wave. "Do as I say!
"Sheala, if you want to earn my trust, you need to learn to respect my will. Dethmold manages it perfectly well."
The middle-aged mage bowed with a sycophantic smile.
The sorceress's expression turned cold.
"Then I shall take my leave."
She turned around and departed without looking back.
Dethmold gave the king a smug look.
"Ah, another arrogant witch cast from the same mold as Sabrina Glevissig."
Henselt said nothing, but Victor knew he had heard him.
The sorceress could choose to leave with her pride intact, but the witcher could not.
He was free to leave as well, but he intended to witness exactly what Dethmold planned to do to his friend with necromancy.
...
Some time later, Auckes's mangled corpse had been placed upon a mortuary table.
A white pentagram had been drawn on the floor around it, with a burning candle positioned at each point.
"Hanmarvyn's Blue Dream," Dethmold explained. "This ritual allows the living to peer into the memories of the dead.
"You will see, feel, and personally experience everything this assassin experienced while he was alive.
"Thank you for agreeing to participate, Victor.
"An ordinary person can endure the spell, but if a mutant drinks potions that strengthen the heart and blood vessels, he can witness more images within Hanmarvyn's Blue Dream.
"If you possess a hallucinogenic potion, it can also increase the clarity of the visions.
"Tell me when you are ready."
Standing before the mortuary table, the witcher reached into his satchel and removed the tawny-gold Tawny Owl, Swallow, and Petri's Philter.
He drank them all.
To Victor, Auckes had been a decent man in life.
He had always faced the world with a smile.
Even now, in death, the corners of his mouth remained slightly raised.
Victor's face was expressionless.
Unlike the burning heat he normally felt after drinking witcher potions, today he felt something icy being pumped from his heart, flowing through his blood vessels and spreading into every corner of his body.
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