Chapter 10 - First Touch
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A/N - I was in two minds about what happens mid-way through this chapter, but I always look for my MC to have unusual partners, so I figured it would be good fun to have him partner with this selected character.
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Walking out the cave, I could only trust the decision Geralt had made. It wasn't my place to decide. Every decision he was making was in regards to finding Ciri. I knew many of the choices he made were not easy. Hell, most choices I ended up making were not easy, possibly leading to the deaths of people I knew and loved. As we mounted up, he continued to say little until we were back on the path to Crookback Bog.
"Couldn't trust it, Ragnar," he finally said, "There was just something unsettling. And when my medallion starts humming, it tells me something is wrong. I don't believe that was just some ordinary spirit. I have no doubt it was powerful."
"Geralt, when it comes to things like that, I follow your lead. You have much more experience dealing with these matters."
The ealdorman of Downwarren was pleased to see us return, and even happier to hear that the spirit had been taken care of. Geralt admitted he had considered releasing it, but in the end, he trusted that less than the Ladies of the Wood. He then disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a bandage around his head, offering an ear.
"The fuck?" I asked myself quietly, glancing between him and Geralt.
"Tis our pact. Ye're a stranger, ye don't know life here. It's honest pay for their protection."
"So all those ears in the woods..." Geralt stated but trailed off.
"Put it out yer mind, master. Ye soon be leavin', and we must tarry on. Our young'uns, and their young'uns after them. No gods nor masters watch over Velen. The land is no man's. He who wants to
survive must seek his own protectors."
I had nothing to say to that. I'd been a decade and more on the Continent but still didn't understand most of it. Geralt understood more, but even the Ladies of the Wood took understanding. Whatever they were, the people seem devoted to them. Mounting our horses, we returned south to meet with the ladies themselves, Geralt assured they would keep their word and give him the information we sought.
Entering the orphanage once again, the buildings were ominous in their silence. No sight nor sound of the children at all. "Fuck," Geralt muttered. I felt my stomach drop at the same time. But maybe, just maybe, it wasn't as bad as we feared.
Dismounting, I unsheathed my sword immediately, Geralt clearing his throat. Meeting his eyes, he shook his head. "I don't trust them, Geralt. And if they've done anything to those kids..."
"Then there is nothing you can do about it right now."
"Geralt, I'm generally not an arrogant son of a bitch. But I'm the fucking..."
He stepped closer and grabbed my wrist. "They are stronger, Ragnar," he growled, "Trust me on this one. I know the power you have. Look around, remember what we've heard, think of how we've felt in these woods the entire time, the sense we were being observed, that prickling feeling up your spine. They have powers even I don't fully comprehend. Put your blade away. We don't need to provoke a fight just yet."
"But the children..."
"Were the price the spirit demanded but one that could not be paid. If a spirit that powerful has been trapped, what do you think would have happened should we release it? Remember that pesta you ran into on Fyke Isle? I have no doubt that spirit would have been incredibly powerful, and also destructive."
I sighed, sheathing my sword. "Don't like this, Geralt. I know I'll never..."
"Me too, Ragnar. Sterile, remember? But at least you could if you didn't just want to fuck sorceresses." He paused and smiled, giving me a gentle elbow. "But I see the attraction."
I stood back as he laid an ear on a rock in the centre of the clearing. It didn't take long for the ladies to appear, and Geralt muttered they looked nothing like they did in some tapestry within the main building. They were hideous looking things. Utterly grotesque creatures. I would forever refuse to consider them human.
"Crones," Geralt muttered, "I've heard of them before."
The old lady, Gran, was still around, summoned by the Crones to deliver the ear. She looked... crestfallen, even heartbroken, and it was that which confirmed to me that the children were gone. But it was when Gran was handing the ear over that one of the Crones used a spell, and a mark appeared on the right hand of Gran. A mark Geralt recognised immediately.
"This is Anna Strenger, the wife of the baron of Crow's Perch," he stated. At least that meant our search for his family was now over.
The Crones did not deny that fact, they claimed Anna now belonged to them, that Anna had agreed to serve them as they had helped her. Suddenly, everything was making sense. When escaping from Crow's Perch, heading for Oxenfurt with her daughter, it was a creature the Crones had sent that had kidnapped her. No doubt Tamara had no idea that her mother had agreed a pact with the Crones.
Geralt could see me getting a little... Well, not only a little antsy but rather pissed off already. I had no love for Philip Strenger, but Anna did not belong with the Crones. If she belonged anywhere, it was safe with her daughter, far away from anyone, or anything, that would harm her. My hand went to the hilt of my sword. First the children, now Anna. Gods only knew what else they were doing at that exact moment.
"Easy there, dragon," one of the Crones warned, "Don't be making rash decisions."
"Where are the children?" I demanded.
"Safe," another Crone replied.
"Safe where?" I asked, "Tell me!"
"Control your friend, White One, lest the dragon finds himself on a leash as one of our playthings."
Geralt made a gesture, but he gave me a few seconds to calm down, as I glared at the three Crones. I could easily use my Thu'um, but I had a bad feeling it would do absolutely nothing to them. I finally took a deep breath, removed my hand from the hilt of my sword, left my arms hanging loose at my side.
The Crones had remained relaxed throughout, returning to ignoring me as Geralt broached the crux of the matter, asking about Ciri. A favour done was a favour owed, and the Crones explained what happened to Ciri.
What they told us, working for the Wild Hunt, or at least
with
if not