The throne room had grown quiet, Foltest remained seated upon his throne, his fingers steepled before him, the guards at the doors stood motionless, their eyes fixed on the empty space where Sebastian had stood moments before. The candles flickered in their sconces.
Then, from the shadows behind the throne, a figure emerged.
Vernon Roche. He was tall and lean, his face weathered by years of service to the crown. He wore the simple uniform of the Temerian Special Forces, his hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
"My King," Roche said, his voice low and respectful. "You are certain you trust this witcher? We know nothing about this person. It is not that I doubt Lady Merigold's judgment, she has proven her loyalty time and again but he is still someone we know nothing about." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "He is not like the White Wolf, of whom we have quite a substantial amount of information. His deeds are documented, his allegiances known. This one is a blank slate, an unknown quantity. Why him?"
Foltest smiled, "Commander, I understand your concern. Truly, I do. It is precisely this caution that has made you such a valuable asset to the crown." He leaned forward, "But think about it, a witcher of unknown fame, untethered to any faction or allegiance, is the perfect one for this job. From what Merigold has told me, this is his first time on the Path. He is young, skilled, and untainted by the political games that have corrupted so many others. He has no prior obligations, no hidden loyalties, no secret allegiances to rival powers." He paused, "I need skilled men on my side if we are to survive the wars to come. Men who can be trusted or at least, men whose price I can afford to pay."
Roche's jaw tightened, but he did not argue. He had served Foltest long enough to know that the king's decisions were rarely made without careful consideration. "Your Majesty, allow me to observe him some more. I believe he is acceptable too... considering that he practically refused your offer, him being 'another assassin' is unlikely. But I still wish to observe him a while longer, just to be certain."
Foltest nodded slowly, "Do as you wish, Commander. Just do not get caught. We do not want our guest to discover that we are watching him. That would undermine any trust we might hope to build."
"Of course, Your Majesty. I shall approach him as a friend if need be, to allay any suspicions he might have."
Foltest's eyes glinted with amusement. "He does not seem like a halfwit, so be smart about it. He is a witcher, after all, his senses are sharper than most. If he senses that something is amiss, it will be difficult to win his trust back."
Roche nodded once, then he turned and walked toward the side entrance.
.
.
.
.
The courtyard of the Royal Palace was bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, its gardens alive with the colors of a thousand blooming flowers that seemed to dance in the gentle breeze. Dandelion and Zoltan had made themselves comfortable, reclining on a stone bench near the fountain, their faces flushed with the pleasure of fine wine and good company. Servants had brought them refreshments, glasses of deep red wine, plates of cheese and bread and they had accepted them with enthusiasm, this was a whole different world from Velen.
Sebastian and Triss emerged, their footsteps echoing against the cobblestones. Dandelion looked up, his face breaking into a broad grin.
"Seb!" he called out, raising his glass in a toast. "How was the king? Nice, I assume? Did he offer you a knighthood? I jest."
Sebastian's expression was carefully neutral. "Yeah. Pretty nice."
He said to himself, however. 'If you count ten crossbows aimed at you nice.'
Zoltan set down his glass, his thick fingers stroking his beard. "I don't like royal palaces, if I'm being honest. I'm not at ease here. Too many shadows, too many whispers, too many eyes watching from places you can't see. Give me a good tavern any day.. a place where you know who your enemies are."
Sebastian nodded in agreement, his yellow eyes scanning the courtyard. "I agree. We should go to a tavern. Somewhere with drinks, good food, and fewer hidden crossbowmen." He turned to Triss. "Triss, you coming with us right?"
Triss smiled, her eyes bright. "Of course. I'll change right quick and meet you at the gates. I cannot be seen in the city wearing the robes of a court mage, it would attract too much attention.. Also what did you mean by hidden Crossbowmen?"
Sebastian nodded. "I'll tell you once we are out of this palace. We'll be waiting outside." He turned to Dandelion and Zoltan. "Come on, you two. Let's get out of here."
They walked toward the gates. Sebastian's senses were on high alert, he could feel eyes on him, hidden, watching. They were the eyes of professionals, of men who had been trained to observe without being observed. But Sebastian had been trained to detect such things.
Outside the palace walls, the city of Vizima sprawled before them, its streets alive with the sounds of commerce and daily life. The horses were waiting, their reins held by a young stablehand who had been instructed to care for them. Sebastian mounted his mare, Dandelion and Zoltan did the same, their horses stamping impatiently, eager to be moving.
They waited.
And then Triss appeared.
She had changed out of her formal robes, trading them for a simple but elegant outfit. She wore dark leather trousers, a loose-fitting blouse of deep green that complemented her red hair and brought out the warmth in her eyes, and a light cloak that she had thrown over her shoulders. She looked less like a court mage and more like a traveler.
Sebastian's eyes swept over her, "Still eye-catching," he said. "Everyone in the tavern will know that it's Triss Merigold. I hope you are prepared for the attention."
Triss laughed. She approached Sebastian's mare and swung up behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist. "Well, as long as I have all three of you brave men there, I don't have anything to worry about. I am sure you will protect me from the hordes of admirers who will surely flock to my side."
Dandelion puffed out his chest, his voice carrying a note of exaggerated pride. "I am glad you acknowledge that, Triss. Truly, I am. I have been known to deter many an unwanted suitor with my wit and charm alone."
Zoltan snorted, his voice gruff and teasing. "Pfft. Him brave? Ahahahaaha! He would run at the first sign of trouble."
Sebastian laughed, the sound warm and genuine, a rare moment of lightness in the midst of their grim journey. "Alright, alright. Triss, you know this city. Guide me to the best tavern in Vizima. Somewhere with the best drinks, good food, and enough noise to drown out our conversations."
Triss smiled. "Of course, but first want to tell me about the hidden crossbowmen? It's still on my mind."
Sebastian voice dropped to a whisper "There was someone behind the throne, alongside at least ten men scattered around the throne room. I assume they were crossbowmen. Foltest did not exactly trust me like he said. No wonder they didn't disarm me. The whole 'Triss's friend' bullshit was just a face, a mask to be friendly while they prepared for the worst."
Triss's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "I didn't notice a thing... must have been his Kingsguard or..." She paused, her brow furrowing with concern. "Or perhaps the Special Forces."
Sebastian shook his head slowly. "Doesn't matter who it was. But I suppose it is understandable. The man's life is constantly threatened... to the point that he wants to hire a witcher as his personal guard. I cannot fault him for being cautious."
Triss nodded. "We can talk about this later in the tavern. For now, let us enjoy the ride and the company of our friends."
/-\
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