章 15: 2/2
Geralt realized he couldn't argue any more, yet Ned was right. Any escape would be drawn to them and who knew what punishment or conflict it would cause. "Fine then. Make it quick for her. Clean stab for the heart always works." With that he'd move along to the caravan camp, leaving Ned to do his troubling task.
Entering the camp, he'd find where his packs were stored and quick get his bedroll out for the night after finding a secluded spot. Resting back, he'd sigh as he'd quickly fall asleep, trying to ignore the frustration he felt after the day's events.
…
Sleeping in to the late morning, Geralt got up and shifted through his pack to get a fresh change of clothes. Ever since reaching farther south, the weather had become warm and summery, making it quite hot for him with the northern leathers and fur he usual had on. Lucky he had come prepared as he had packed lighter clothes for the south, just a white shirt and leather trousers. He fit on the mix of his champion bracer and the studded wolven glove along with his usual boots. He'd have both sword on his back once finished, leaving his wolf cloak tucked away in his pack.
He'd head for the inn, needing a good meal to start off the day. Besides he wanted to know if this place's food was as legendary as everyone said. The main hall of the inn was back to normal after last night's 'trial'. Inside, he'd notice that Tyrion and Bronn were at one table, eating quite a hearty breakfast. The dwarf quickly noticed the Witcher and wave him over.
"Rest well Geralt? I heard about what happened yesterday…" He'd ask as the Witcher upped up a short stroll and picked a clean plate and cup set aside on the table.
"Yah…your sister and nephew are becoming hard to like." He muttered as he'd pick out the last meat pie they had, making Bronn grumble.
"Wanted that…" Course seeing Geralt's sharp eyes made him not argue the case.
"Yes. I heard what my sister demanded and the story Joffrey said. My nephew does have bad…habits. I blame it on his upbringing and her overprotectiveness."
Geralt shrugged, not caring on such excuses as he'd started eating. Just a few bites and already he was half-way down with the pie, unable to deny that it was the best one he had in years. "So…any news to share with me?" He'd asked the dwarf after a while eating.
"I have been talking with the servants. Asking them about my sister's plans and habits during her stay at Winterfell. I can confirm that she wasn't at the keep when Bran's fall happened." The dwarf said in a low hushed voice.
"Interesting. Anything else?"
"More of rumors then anything. Since I know you know history, there has been talk of a historic marriage across the Narrow Sea in Essos. The banished children of the Targaryen line have revealed themselves after so many years missing."
"Targaryen's I thought they were all wiped out during the rebellion?"
"Ah not these two. They were smuggled away by loyalists during the fall of King's Landing. The last male heir is Viserys and the last daughter is his sister Daenerys. Anyway the rumors go that Viserys arranged for his sister to marry Essos's most powerful Khals of the continent, Khal Drogo."
"Khal? Sorry, you're going to have to explain a bit about Essos culture. Haven't spent much time reading up on them."
"Fair point. A Khal is a warlord of the Dothraki, a culture of warrior horse raiders. They control a loose empire of sorts among the inland of Essos. They mainly plague the villages and towns out of reach of the Free Cities, yet every so often they attack them every few decades." Tyrion explained. "Point is Drogo is a legend among his people. Young, strong and leading a horde rumored to be a hundred thousand strong."
Geralt was baffled at such a number. "Damn…not even all the cavalry between the North and Nilffguard could match that number."
"Thing is, King Robert worries the Targaryens are readying for an invasion. That kind of army could ravage the Seven Kingdoms if it was let loose."
Geralt shrugged. "Think that is hard to believe. Numbers never ensures victory."
Bronn chuckled and nodded. "Damn right. I know a Dothraki blood rider maybe tough, but doubt they could beat armored pikemen or take a fortified keep. Savages hardly know how to properly siege."
"Besides, wonder how they'd get so many across the sea. Bet they never sailed on boat."
Tyrion sighed at this point. "Fine you two make good points. If anything I think Robert is just eager for a new war along with wiping out the Targaryens. Those seem to be the only two real passions besides his usual vices."
"Tales I know of the man, he was a legend on the field. Great commander and unmatched in personal combat, although the years haven't been kind to him ever since." Bronn remarked. "What I can tell, the big warriors of today pale to him…like that Hound fellow."
"What about him?" Geralt questioned.
"Eh, man maybe big and strong, yet a bit short on the wit. Besides he's a push over deep down with the way that Joffrey boy was talking to him. Kid insult me like that I'd smack him over the head."
At this point Geralt started to realize something bad was happening. "Any idea what it was about?"
"Something about finding someone. The prince seemed pretty pissed and the way the Hound was fiddling with his sword…well…doubt you'd want to be the fellow meeting him."
At that point Geralt suddenly got up from his seat and began to hurry out, leaving Bron and Tyrion confused. "Oi!? What are you hurry off to like that?" Bronn yelled out yet by then the Witcher had left the inn. Outside, he was quickly looking about down the roads, trying to get an idea where Sandor could have road off.
"You." He quickly said to a nearby stable hand. "The Hound. Where he rode off to."
"I..Umm…eastward. Road to the nearby village sir." The young man answered nervously before Geralt was running off in that direction.
He cursed as he realized he should have expect Joffrey to do this as he'd cut through the thin woodlands, trying to shorten the route. Nearing the road again, he could hear a horse galloping along with a panicked yell followed by hurried running. Soon he could see what was going on as Sandor was chasing after Mycah on horseback, his large sword out ready to cut the boy down.
"No please!" The boy begged as he continued to run, yet the scarred warrior didn't slow down. Geralt spirted forward through the brush, rushing out from the side as he'd tackle Mycah to the ground just as the Hound's blade slashed low for the boy's back. The blade just missed Geralt's shoulder, ripping the cloth yet not cutting the skin. For a moment the boy struggled before realizing who it was that just saved him. "Y-You…the white haired one." He stammered in shock as Geralt stood up, facing down Sandor.
"Back off Witcher. This doesn't bloody concern you." The man growled as he paced his horse about, readying for another charge.
Geralt was silent, calmly drawing his steel sword as he stared down the Hound who gave an eager grin.
"Really? You plan to protect this brat? So honorable." Sandor jested.
"Last chance to back off Hound. Tell your master that the kid got away." Geralt warned.
Sandor growled in annoyance as he'd then kick his horse into a charge, rushing at the Witcher while Mycah hurried away for the brush for cover. As the charging knight neared though, Geralt smirked as he'd made the Axii sign quickly. While it was weak, he knew the spell muddle the horse's mind as the creature seemed daze, its charge coming to a sudden stop. "What the hell?!" Sandor was caught off guard as the halting horse had him tumble off, yet he rolled with it and was quickly on his feet, facing off against the Witcher.
"What did you do? Made some…gesture with your hand." He demanded as he held up his large sword.
However Geralt rushed in to attack, moving so that Sandor had a look of surprise on his scarred face. Sandor was quick to react, twisting his blade upward to guard against the charging attack. Grunting out, he'd stagger back from the strong blow yet move to swing back at the Witcher. However in just the blink of an eye Geralt had side stepped, moving inhumanly fast as he'd slash out at again at the Hound's side. The large man barely had enough time to twist about to block the attack, locking blades for a moment before Geralt shifting his stance again and attacked from another direction.
Again and again he was forced to block as the Witcher went into a flurry of attacks, body twisting and turning to put more power behind every rapid blow. Sandor growled out as he was forced on the defensive, unable to parry or dodge away fast enough without having to block another attack. In the end he took a big leap back to just escape Geralt's reach, yet the tip of the Witcher's blade just grazed across his iron chest piece. Glancing at it, he saw how the metal was sliced open, just protecting him from a gash across the chest. He had known the Witcher had a fine weapon yet the way it cut seemed like Valyrian steel.
"I don't understand? You weren't this fast before…" He panted as Geralt relaxed his fighting stance.
"That's because I'm being serious. No spoiled prince to entertain this time."
For a moment the Hound was still, looking at the Witcher with a tense gaze. No doubt he was rethinking everything he knew about Geralt. Knowing the fact that he had been holding back made Sandor hesitant, unsure of how he should approach this. Gripping his weapon tightly in his hands, he'd suddenly lower his blade and sheath it.
"Don't have the time for this." He growled. "Boy isn't worth the damn trouble."
For a moment Geralt remained on guard before sheathing his own sword. "Smart move."
Sandor moved to his horse, pulling himself up back onto the saddle. "Hope saving that brat was worth it. If anything you only spared him a quick end." He muttered.
The Witcher didn't even remark back at the threat as the Hound rode off back towards the inn, kicking his mount hard in his frustration. Soon Geralt's attention was then onto the brush where Mycah poked his head out, eyes wide in shock after what happened. Standing up, he'd moving back onto the road yet seeming nervous with the Witcher.
"Y-You saved me. Thought that man was going to r-run me down and chop me up." He stammered fearfully. "Wait you're that man from yesterday. You saved that prince fellow." Gulping, he seem fearful again.
"Calm down. Not here to hurt or kill you. If anything that was the Hound's job." He assured the boy.
"What…that was the Hound?!" The boy looked flabbergasted at the news. "Man is supposed to be a beast yet you battled him with ease!"
Geralt shrugged. "Anyway it doesn't matter. Point is your alive and should be going home now."
"W-What if he comes back…or the prince sends more? They could hurt my family."
"Doubt Joffrey will go that far. Still I recommend you head home quickly and stay low for a few days."
The boy calmed down slightly yet nodded. "I…guess I can do that." He'd shift a bit towards the west side of the road, yet glanced back at the Witcher. "Umm…so what is you name sir?"
"Geralt. Just Geralt."
The boy gave a small smile and nod. "Well Geralt. Thank you for saving me. I'll try to be safe from now on but well…look out for yourself!' Quickly he'd hurry off, soon disappearing down the bend of the road. Giving a small sigh, he already wondered if this was the best choice and he hadn't just put the boy's family at risk. In the end though the choice was made and he just hoped it was the right one. He'd look eastward and walk back to the inn, taking his time returning there.
…
Geralt arrived back at the inn and caravan camp, noting how the servants were busy packing up supplies and other belongings. From what he heard they planned to continue onto King's Landing which would take another week with the slow caravan. Considering the last stretch, he could get there in just a few days. Still it give him time to discuss matters about the Wall and of Bran with Lord Eddard. He made sure to collect the lists that Lord Commander had given him along with the wrapped up Thann axe to show to Ned. He'd be directed to the carriage that the new Hand of the King was staying at, finding the door to it open when he arrived. He'd knock at the door before stepping in, finding Ned was busy reading over reports, mostly related to the upcoming tournament and it's costs.
"Morning Lord Stark."
Eddard didn't look away from the papers or answer back for a long moment, yet spoke up in the end. "Ah…morning Geralt." As the Witcher walked around the table, he could see hints of dark rings under the man's eyes.
"Everything alright? Look like you're going to pass out." Geralt asked.
Ned sighed deeply. "I'm fine. Last night was just…difficult." Shaking his head though, he'd look up at the Witcher. "Yet I take you didn't come here to just check up on me. I take you want to report how things are at the Wall and Castle Black."
"Indeed." Setting down the Lord Commander's report, Ned started to read over the different pages. He'd mutter a few words every so often yet soon he'd shift the papers aside and look up at Geralt. "The Lord Commander has quite large demands."
"Most of which I agree with. The Wall is undermanned, supplied and Castle Black is barely being held together. He's not asking for you to rebuilt and staff the many other keeps, just get Castle Black defenses up."
"The reports do speak of increased Wildling movements before beyond and pass the Wall…"
At the point Geralt hefted the covered axe onto the table which creaked under the large weapon's weight. "That is also correct. Thing is we had another run in with them when heading north." He'd tug the cloth off the weapon revealing the ornate yet deadly axe. The look on Ned's face showed that he knew what this was, making him glance back at the door and quickly close it before anyone outside noticed.
"How many?"
"Eight, with the Thann leading them."
Eddard rubbed over his bearded chin, a serious look showing across his face. "Makes twenty raiders then. With the far north under watched it will be easy for such parties to build up in strength and fortify while more slip over south."
"In turn they'll have Castle Black cut off and may even take the castle from the southern side. If they do that there will be nothing stopping them letting the whole Wildling Horde loose."
"What are you estimates then?"
"With what the Watch has now, it would take only a small force to do so, maybe a hundred. If they have the element of surprise and proper equipment, their chances are higher."
Ned nodded after a while thinking over what was shared. "Then this is a matter Robert can't ignore. If he does then I'll seriously question him on his reasoning, yet I fear the costs and effort may be hard to match up."
"I do know the Kingship is low on funds. Talk about increasing debts and mismanagement has been among the rumors."
"More of truths." Ned slid over some of the papers he had been reading earlier. "Look at the costs. This tournament is already a fortune in such setting up and supply, yet the prize money for the different events…well they could fund a small army of a long while."
"Ninety thousand crowns in total!" Geralt was baffled at that amounting. "Didn't realize it was that much. Makes sense why Tyrion wants to fund me for the tournament as well."
"Wait…Lord Tyrion want's to sponsor you? I'll admit I had nearly forgotten you were invited to join the event with all my other duties distracting me." Thinking for a moment, a realization came to Eddard. "What of your investigation about what happened to Bran? Did you get any insight from Tyrion?"
"I know that he wasn't involved. After that Wildling attack, he promised to help me in part of being indebted having saved his life. So far he can say his sister was missing around the time of Bran's fall, so Queen Cersei most likely was at the tower at the time." Pausing, he'd continue to speak though. "There is some good news as well. When I visited Winterfell Bran woke up."
Eddard gave a surprised look, the tired hint on his face instantly gone. "Gods…That…that is good to know. I'll be sure to send a raven to him when I can."
"However there are issues to discuss which complicates Bran as well."
He'd spend the next hour detailing the assassination attempt on Bran along with Catelyn learning the truth of the boy's fall, leading to her leaving Winterfell and hurrying in secret to King's Landing. The overall news has an angered look show on Ned's face.
"So…a conspiracy grows around what my son saw and my wife rushes blindly into it." He'd grip his hands tightly into fists, frustrated at his lack of control over these events. "When we reach the capital, I will have the guards on watch for Cat. Be it ship or road, we'll know when she'll arrive. Hopefully we'll stop her from doing anything rash."
Geralt nodded in agreement. "I feel we should shift our attention from Bran's fall to learning who hired the assassin. The tower fall is a dead end for now, yet the assassin leaves a key clue which your wife has."
"Yes…the Valyrian steel dagger. Such a weapon is one of a kind and it can easily be traced with the right sources." Ned thought for a moment. "I have some ideas on who can help us trace the weapon, yet that will have to wait."
"I do have some suspects…nothing official yet possibilities."
"I'd rather not jump to any conlussion to hastily Geralt."
"I know that and I'm not implying any are guilty, only that they are individuals who would gain from Bran's death."
Ned sighed, before giving a small nod. "Very well. Share your thoughts."
"We know for certain the Lannisters are involved. You can count Tyrion out because he wasn't at the tower and has no reason to seek harm to Bran. We can confirm Cersei was in the tower, yet if she caused Bran's fall or simply witness it we cannot be sure. However I doubt she'd hire an assassin, much less arm one with such a unique weapon."
"Care to explain?"
"I don't know Cersei that well, yet she's far more cunning then she acts. She wouldn't give someone a weapon like that if it had even the slightest chance to be connected to her in any way. I know she may seem spiteful as well, yet the assassin approach also has more faults to it, much less hiring a drifter to do the deed."
"So then who else could be involved?"
Geralt was hesitant, before he'd speak. "Cersei spoke to me when I arrived yesterday. We talked about Bran and she mentioned speaking to King Robert about the matter. The King seemed to view Bran's crippling as a…suffering."
From the way Ned's gaze hardened, he could tell that the Northern Lord didn't like what was being said. "You best not be implying what I think."
"You wanted my thoughts. I'm telling you them. If you wish me to stop then say it." Eddard was silent, being all the Witcher needed to continue. "You know Robert has a tough outlook on life. Even in his unfit state he is a warrior by heart. He'd rather die to a blade then be crippled or sickly. That's his view point of life, which he views onto others."
"Get to the point Geralt…" Ned said almost with a growl.
"Robert could have hired the assassin, seeing the act as a mercy killing for your son."
Eddard had quite a fierce look at Geralt, yet the Witcher kept that calm look. "I don't believe that."
"Neither do I, but I can't rule it out."
"It's against everything I know about Robert…"
"Maybe there is a lot you don't know about him…maybe a lot about him has changed in twenty years."
"Enough of matter. I rather deal in facts not theories."
Geralt sighed and nodded. "As you wish. All that aside…I take we just have to wait until King's Landing."
By now Eddard had calmed down as he nodded in agreement. "Yes. I think the best moment to bring up the Wall and the invading Wildlings will be at the Small Council. If we make our case before the other members, they can possibly support the Night's Watch requests." He'd sort out all the papers before looking to the axe. "For now keep that weapon hidden and safe. It will be the best proof we have."
Geralt picked up and rewrapped the weapon, hefting it off the table once more. "Then we wait until then. Anyway call me if you have anything else you wish to discuss over."
"Of course." Ned muttered as Geralt moved to leave yet the Northern Lord suddenly spoke up. "One thing Geralt, thank you for saving that boy."
The Witcher glanced back, curious at how the man knew.
"I saw the Hound come back with quite the angered look. Knowing his role serving Joffrey…well…not hard to deduce." Ned gave a small smile of gratitude. "Enjoy your evening Geralt."
Geralt was silent, yet deep down appreciated the compliment. He'd leave the carriage room, closing the door behind him before going and repacking the Wildling axe safely away in his private spot. Just as he finished, he'd hear someone call out for him.
"Geralt! There you are!" Tyrion yelled as the dwarf hurried over, Bronn following close behind him.
"Crazy bastard. You left us baffled after you ran off like that." Bronn muttered.
"Sorry. Just remember something very important."
"Ah no harm in the end yes? Anyway we still have half a day left to ourselves. How about we just waste the day with drinks and stories while we can. Doubt we'll have that much freedom down at the capital."
Geralt smirked and shrugged at the idea. "You know, that's not a bad idea. Better to enjoy ourselves while we can."
"Heh, bet twenty crowns I'll have you under the table by the end of the night Witcher." Bronn challenged with a smug grin as the trio head for the inn.
"Careful Bronn, if you knew the stuff I drank you'd back down on that challenge."
"As you say white hair. Fine then first round is on you then!"
Tyrion chuckled at how the two boasted and taunted at each other. He already knew this evening be an entertaining one and a fine end to this long trip.
…
Any worries Geralt had were washed away with strong drink and amusing chatter as he, Tyrion and Bronn enjoyed the inn's bar for the whole evening and night. He had to admit that this world had quite its special share of drinks, although during his half drunken tales he did boast about the unique ales and bears from back home. Soon even he lost track of events, yet remembered an out drinking everyone except for Tyrion in the end. It baffled Geralt how someone half his size could hold his own, although he remembered that being a mutant seemingly didn't enhance his alcohol resistance. By the time his head cleared up, Tyrion had staggered away with a hundred crowns and Bronn had crawled off to his room in the inn.
"Ugh…going to be a crazy tale to share with others when I get back." Geralt muttered, as he rubbed his head. Taking one of the emptied bottles, he got a bit of water to help clear his head as he'd head outside. The camp was peaceful unlike yesterday with the trial that had happened. Pacing around the inn, he did pause when he stared at the pen where Lady had been caged up. Already he wondered how the dire wolf felt…no doubt confused and scared over what was happening. "Always the innocent ones…" He muttered as he'd sip his drink and move along the road.
Glancing up, he could see it was a full moon tonight, casting a cool light across the area. Oddly the surroundings felt…familiar in a strange way. Suddenly he'd hear a male voice, a calm and cheerful one that seemed quite close. The words he sung though were haunting to the Witcher's ears.
His smile fair as spring, as towards him he draws you
The voice was coming from around the other side of the inn, at the intersection where all the main roads met. Curious yet on guard, he'd move closer as he followed the voice.
His tongue sharp and silvery, as he implores you
Your wishes he grants, as he swears to adore you
Rounding the building, he'd see the open crossroads. At the center was as sturdy sign post that directed off to the many different keeps and towns spread out in all directions. Yet there was someone sitting on top of the highest sign, the one marked as 'King's Landing', their back facing Geralt.
Gold, silver, jewels – he lays riches before you
The figure was a man with buzz cut hair, although he couldn't see his face from this angle. His clothes were simple yet quite colorful with a greenish top and blue trousers with a pair of worn yet fine leather boots. There was a satchel set across his back, filled with scrolls and papers along with a dagger set on his right hip.
Dues need be repaid, and he will come for you
All to reclaim, no smile to console you
At this point Geralt had a realization of who this was. A mix of feeling came to him, snapping the drunken daze that lingered in his head. Already he was questioning how this was possible, yet remember that this person…no this thing…could easily slip between worlds just like Ciri. Part of him felt like to turn away yet deep down he knew this being could help him. But thinking of the cost…had him hesitate.
He'll snare you in bonds, eyes glowing', a fire
To gore and torment you, till the stars expire
The song ended and at that point the figure would shift about, turning on the sign post to face towards Geralt. His face was very unremarkable, a look that you could never notice or remember seeing twice. The man had a friendly look, yet Geralt knew better as he saw sharp cunning eyes, sly and calculating. Looking at the Witcher, the man grinned as if seeing an old friend.
"Geralt. My favorite Witcher…now this is a surprise indeed." The man chuckled while Geralt gave a calm yet serious look back at him. "Why so quiet friend? Aren't you happy to see good old Gaunter O'Dimm?"
…
Notice: The Man of Glass returns! You all knew he'd be showing up! Anyway I will be working on a special short chapter of this intense encounter, so expect an early update later this week! A bit of forewarning though, my classes are beginning in a week which will be muddling up my chapter updates, yet I plan to continue writing no matter what. Overall please review and PM me through reactions and thoughts!
週次パワーステータス
-- 推薦
ランキング 
-- 推薦
チケット