a tired glance. The witcher noticed several pairs of eyes sparkle with greed at the sight of Borch's overstuffed coin-purse, but nobody dared to follow him as he staggered in the direction of the courtyard. Tea shrugged before following her employer.
"What's your real name?" asked Geralt of the girl who remained sitting at the table.
Vea smiled revealing a line of white teeth, much of her shirt was unbuttoned as far as the last possible limit of decency allowed. Geralt did not doubt for an instant that her demeanour was designed to test the resistance of the other patrons in the room.
"Alveaenerle."
"That's beautiful." The witcher was sure that the Zerricanian now gazed at him doe-eyed, seductively. He was not mistaken.
"Vea?"
"Hmm..."
"Why do you ride with Borch? Warriors love of freedom. Can you tell me?"
"Hmm..."
"Hmm, what?"
"He is..." the Zerricanian wrinkled her brow while she tried to find the right words, "He is the most... the most beautiful."
The witcher shook his head. The criteria used by women to assess the desirability of men had always been an enigma to him.
Three Jackdaws burst into the alcove re-buttoning his trousers and gave a loud command to the landlord. Tea, two steps behind him, feigned boredom as she looked around the tavern, the merchants and the mariners present avoiding her eyes. Vea sucked at a crayfish while casting the witcher knowing glances.
"I'll have another order of eel for everyone, braised this time," Three Jackdaws sat down heavily, his still open belt jangled. "I'm tired of crayfish and I'm still hungry. I have reserved
you a room, Geralt. You have no reason to be wandering this night. Let's have some more fun. To your health, girls!"
"Vessekheal," Vea replied, holding up her glass. Tea blinked and stretched. Her lovely breasts, contrary to Geralt's expectations, did not burst out of her shirt.
"Let's have some fun!" Three Jackdaws leaned across the table, and slapped Tea on the behind, "Let's party, witcher, Hey! Landlord! Over here!" The landlord quickly approached them, wiping his hands on his apron. "Do you have a large tub? Like one for washing linen in: solid and roomy."
"How big, sir?"
"For four people."
"For... four," repeated the landlord smiling widely.
"Four," confirmed Three Jackdaws, pulling his full coin-purse out of his pocket.
"We'll find one for you," promised the landlord as he moistened his lips.
"Perfect," replied Borch, all smiles. "Order one and bring it up into my room and see that it's filled with hot water. Get to it, my dear chap, and don't forget beer and at least three tankards." The Zerricanians laughed and winked at the witcher.
"Which do you prefer?" asked Three Jackdaws. "Huh, Geralt?"
The witcher scratched his head.
"I know it's a difficult choice," continued Three Jackdaws with a knowing air. "I also have trouble sometimes. Well, we will decide when we're in the tub. Hey, girls! Help me up the stairs."
Ill
There was a barricade on the bridge. A long and solid beam positioned on trestles barred access to the other bank of the river. Halberdiers in buttoned leather jackets and mail were gathered there, standing guard on both sides. Aloft, a crimson pennant bearing a silver griffin flapped in the wind.
"What the devil?" exclaimed Three Jackdaws as they approached the barricade. "We can't pass?"
"Do you have a pass?" asked the nearest halberdier, without removing from his mouth the straw he was chewing to stave off hunger or quite simply to kill time.
"What pass? What's going on? An epidemic of cattle plague? War? In whose name do you block the road?"
"On the order of King Niedamir, Lord of Caingorn." the guard moved the straw to the other corner of his mouth and indicated to the pennant. "Without safe conduct, you cannot pass."
"How stupid," interrupted Geralt in a tired voice. "We are not, however, in Caingorn but in the county of Holopole. It's just as well that Holopole and not Caingorn collects the toll on the bridges of
"What's your real name?" asked Geralt of the girl who remained sitting at the table.
Vea smiled revealing a line of white teeth, much of her shirt was unbuttoned as far as the last possible limit of decency allowed. Geralt did not doubt for an instant that her demeanour was designed to test the resistance of the other patrons in the room.
"Alveaenerle."
"That's beautiful." The witcher was sure that the Zerricanian now gazed at him doe-eyed, seductively. He was not mistaken.
"Vea?"
"Hmm..."
"Why do you ride with Borch? Warriors love of freedom. Can you tell me?"
"Hmm..."
"Hmm, what?"
"He is..." the Zerricanian wrinkled her brow while she tried to find the right words, "He is the most... the most beautiful."
The witcher shook his head. The criteria used by women to assess the desirability of men had always been an enigma to him.
Three Jackdaws burst into the alcove re-buttoning his trousers and gave a loud command to the landlord. Tea, two steps behind him, feigned boredom as she looked around the tavern, the merchants and the mariners present avoiding her eyes. Vea sucked at a crayfish while casting the witcher knowing glances.
"I'll have another order of eel for everyone, braised this time," Three Jackdaws sat down heavily, his still open belt jangled. "I'm tired of crayfish and I'm still hungry. I have reserved
you a room, Geralt. You have no reason to be wandering this night. Let's have some more fun. To your health, girls!"
"Vessekheal," Vea replied, holding up her glass. Tea blinked and stretched. Her lovely breasts, contrary to Geralt's expectations, did not burst out of her shirt.
"Let's have some fun!" Three Jackdaws leaned across the table, and slapped Tea on the behind, "Let's party, witcher, Hey! Landlord! Over here!" The landlord quickly approached them, wiping his hands on his apron. "Do you have a large tub? Like one for washing linen in: solid and roomy."
"How big, sir?"
"For four people."
"For... four," repeated the landlord smiling widely.
"Four," confirmed Three Jackdaws, pulling his full coin-purse out of his pocket.
"We'll find one for you," promised the landlord as he moistened his lips.
"Perfect," replied Borch, all smiles. "Order one and bring it up into my room and see that it's filled with hot water. Get to it, my dear chap, and don't forget beer and at least three tankards." The Zerricanians laughed and winked at the witcher.
"Which do you prefer?" asked Three Jackdaws. "Huh, Geralt?"
The witcher scratched his head.
"I know it's a difficult choice," continued Three Jackdaws with a knowing air. "I also have trouble sometimes. Well, we will decide when we're in the tub. Hey, girls! Help me up the stairs."
Ill
There was a barricade on the bridge. A long and solid beam positioned on trestles barred access to the other bank of the river. Halberdiers in buttoned leather jackets and mail were gathered there, standing guard on both sides. Aloft, a crimson pennant bearing a silver griffin flapped in the wind.
"What the devil?" exclaimed Three Jackdaws as they approached the barricade. "We can't pass?"
"Do you have a pass?" asked the nearest halberdier, without removing from his mouth the straw he was chewing to stave off hunger or quite simply to kill time.
"What pass? What's going on? An epidemic of cattle plague? War? In whose name do you block the road?"
"On the order of King Niedamir, Lord of Caingorn." the guard moved the straw to the other corner of his mouth and indicated to the pennant. "Without safe conduct, you cannot pass."
"How stupid," interrupted Geralt in a tired voice. "We are not, however, in Caingorn but in the county of Holopole. It's just as well that Holopole and not Caingorn collects the toll on the bridges of
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