‘Haaa!’
‘Very good. You see the point now? Has it got through to you?’
‘I’m not stupid!’
‘You’re a girl. Girls don’t have brains.’
‘Lambert! If Triss heard that!’
‘If ifs and ands were pots and pans. All right, that’s enough. Come down. We’ll take a break.’
‘I’m not tired!’
‘But I am. I said, a break. Come down from the comb.’
‘Turning a somersault?’
‘What do you think? Like a hen off its roost? Go on, jump. Don’t be afraid, I’m here for you.’
‘Haaaa!’
‘Nice. Very good – for a girl. You can take off the blindfold now.’
‘Triss, maybe that’s enough for today? What do you think? Maybe we could take the sleigh and ride down the hill? The sun’s shining, the snow’s sparkling so much it hurts the eyes! The weather’s beautiful!’
‘Don’t lean out or you’ll fall from the window.’
‘Let’s go sleighing, Triss!’
‘Suggest that again in Elder Speech and we’ll end the lesson there. Move away from the window, come back to the table . . . Ciri, how many times do I have to ask you? Stop waving that sword about and put it away.’
‘It’s my new sword! It’s real, a witcher’s sword! Made of steel
which fell from heaven! Really! Geralt said so and he never lies, you know that!’
‘Oh, yes. I know that.’
‘I’ve got to get used to this sword. Uncle Vesemir had it adjusted just right for my weight, height and arm-length. I’ve got to get my hand and wrist accustomed to it!’
‘Accustom yourself to your heart’s content, but outside. Not here! Well, I’m listening. You wanted to suggest we get the sleigh out. In Elder Speech. So – suggest it.’
‘Hmmm . . . What’s “sleigh”?’
‘Sledd as a noun. Aesledde as a verb.’
‘Aha . . . Vaien aesledde, ell’ea?’
‘Don’t end a question that way, it’s impolite. You form questions using intonation.’
‘But the children from the Islands—’
‘You’re not learning the local Skellige jargon but classical Elder Speech.’
‘And why am I learning the Speech, tell me?’
‘So that you know it. It’s fitting to learn things you don’t know. Anyone who doesn’t know other languages is handicapped.’
‘But people only speak the common tongue anyway!’
‘True. But some speak more than just it. I warrant, Ciri, that it is better to count yourself amongst those few than amongst everyone. So, I’m listening. A full sentence: “The weather today is beautiful, so let’s get the sleigh.’”
‘Elaine . . . Hmmm . . . Elaine tedd a’taeghane, a va’en aesledde?’
‘Very good.’
‘Ha! So let’s get the sleigh.’
‘We will. But let me finish applying my make-up.’
‘And who are you putting make-up on for, exactly?’
‘Myself. A woman accentuates her beauty for her own self-esteem.’
‘Hmmm . . . Do you know what? I feel pretty poorly too. Don’t laugh, Triss!’
‘Come here. Sit on my knee. Put the sword away, I’ve already asked you! Thank you. Now take that large brush and powder
your face. Not so much, girl, not so much! Look in the mirror. See how pretty you are?’
‘I can’t see any difference. I’ll do my eyes, all right? What are you laughing at? You always paint your eyes. I want to too.’
‘Fine. Here you are, put some shadow on your eyelids with this. Ciri, don’t close both your eyes or you won’t see anything – you’re smudging your whole face. Take a tiny bit and only skim over the eyelids. Skim, I said! Let me, I’ll just spread it a little. Close your eyes. Now open them.’
‘Oooo!’
‘See the difference? A tiny bit of shadow won’t do any harm, even to such beautiful eyes as yours. The elves knew what they were doing when they invented eye shadow.’
‘Elves?’
‘You didn’t know? Make-up is an elvish invention. We’ve learned a lot of useful things from the Elder People. And we’ve given bloody little back in return. Now take the pencil and draw a thin line across your upper lids, just above the lashes. Ciri, what are you doing?’
‘Don’t laugh! My eyelid’s trembling! That’s why!’
‘Part your lips a little and it’ll stop trembling. See?’
‘Ooooh!’
‘Come on, now we’ll go and stun the witchers with our beauty. It’s hard to find a prettier sight. And then we’ll take the sleigh and smudge our make-up in the deep snowdrifts.’
And we’ll make ourselves up again!’
‘No. We’ll tell Lambert to warm the bathroom and we’ll take a bath.’
Again? Lambert says we’re using up too much fuel with our baths.’
‘Lambert caen me a’baeth aep arse.’
What? I didn’t understand . . .’
With time you’ll master the idioms, too. We’ve still got a lot of time for studying before spring. But now . . . Va’en aesledde, me elaine luned!’
*
‘Here, on this engraving . . . No, damn it, not on that one . . . On this one. This is, as you already know, a ghoul. Tell us, Ciri, what you’ve learned about ghouls . . . Hey, look at me! What the devil have you got on your eyelids?’
‘Greater self-esteem!’
‘What? Never mind, I’m listening.’
‘Hmm . . . The ghoul, Uncle Vesemir, is a corpse-devouring monster. It can be seen in cemeteries, in the vicinity of barrows, anywhere the dead are buried. At nec— necropolia. On battlegrounds, on fields of battle . . .’
‘So it’s only a danger to the dead, is that right?’
‘No, not only. A ghoul may also attack the living if it’s hungry or falls into a fury. If, for example, there’s a battle … A lot of people killed . . .’
‘What’s the matter, Ciri?’
‘Nothing . . .’
‘Ciri, listen. Forget about that. That will never return.’
‘I saw … In Sodden and in Transriver . . . Entire fields . . . They were lying there, being eaten by wolves and wild dogs. Birds were picking at them … I guess there were ghouls there too …”
‘That’s why you’re learning about ghouls now, Ciri. When you know about something it stops being a nightmare. When you know how to fight something, it stops being so threatening. So how do you fight a ghoul, Ciri?’
‘With a silver sword. The ghoul is sensitive to silver.’
‘And to what else?’
‘Bright light. And fire.’
‘So you can fight it with light and fire?’
‘You can, but it’s dangerous. A witcher doesn’t use light or fire because it makes it harder to see. Every light creates a shadow and shadows make it harder to get your bearings. One must always fight in darkness, by moon or starlight.’
‘Quite right. You’ve remembered it well, clever girl. And now look here, at this engraving.’
‘ Eeeueeeuuueee—’
‘Oh well, true enough, it is not a beautiful cu— creature. It’s a
graveir. A graveir is a type of ghoul. It looks very much like a ghoul but is considerably larger. He can also be told apart, as you can see, by these three bony combs on his skull. The rest is the same as any other corpse-eater. Take note of the short, blunt claws, adapted for digging up graves, and churning the earth. Strong teeth for shattering bones and a long, narrow tongue used to lick the decaying marrow from them. Such stinking marrow is a delicacy for the graveir . . . What’s the matter?’
‘Nnnnothing.’
‘You’re completely pale. And green. You don’t eat enough. Did you eat breakfast?’
‘Yeeees. I diiiidddddd.’
‘What was I . . . Aha. I almost forgot. Remember, because this is important. Graveirs, like ghouls and other monsters in this category, do not have their own ecological niche. They are relicts from the age of the interpenetration of spheres. Killing them does not upset the order and interconnections of nature which prevail in our present sphere. In this sphere these monsters are foreign and there is no place for them. Do you understand, Ciri?’
‘I do, Uncle Vesemir. Geralt explained it to me. I know all that. An ecological niche is—’
‘All right, that’s fine. I know what it is. If Geralt has explained it to you, you don’t have to recite it to me. Let us return to the graveir. Graveirs appear quite rarely, fortunately, because they’re bloody dangerous sons-of-bitches. The smallest wound inflicted by a graveir will infect you with corpse venom. Which elixir is used to treat corpse venom poisoning, Ciri?’
‘“Golden Oriole”.’
‘Correct. But it is better to avoid infection to begin with. That is why, when fighting a graveir, you must never get close to the bastard. You always fight from a distance and strike from a leap.’
‘hmm . . . And where’s it best to strike one?’
‘We’re just getting to that. Look . . .’
‘Once more, Ciri. We’ll go through it slowly so that you can master each move. Now, I’m attacking you with tierce, taking the
position as if to thrust . . . Why are you retreating?’
‘Because I know it’s a feint! You can move into a wide sinistra or strike with upper quarte. And I’ll retreat and parry with a counterfeint!’
‘Is that so? And if I do this?’
‘Auuu! It was supposed to be slow! What did I do wrong, Coen?’
‘Nothing. I’m just taller and stronger than you are.’
‘That’s not fair!’
‘There’s no such thing as a fair fight. You have to make use of every advantage and every opportunity that you get. By retreating you gave me the opportunity to put more force into the strike. Instead of retreating you should have executed a half-pirouette to the left and tried to cut at me from below, with quarte dextra, under the chin, in the cheek or throat.’
‘As if you’d let me! You’ll do a reverse pirouette and get my neck from the left before I can parry! How am I meant to know what you’re doing?’
‘You have to know. And you do know.’
‘Oh, sure!’
‘Ciri, what we’re doing is fighting. I’m your opponent. I want to and have to defeat you because my life is at stake. I’m taller and stronger than you so I’m going to watch for opportunities to strike in order to avoid or break your parry – as you’ve just seen. What do I need a pirouette for? I’m already in sinistra, see? What could be simpler than to strike with a seconde, under the arm, on the inside? If I slash your artery, you’ll be dead in a couple of minutes. Defend yourself!’
‘Haaaa!’
‘Very good. A beautiful, quick parry. See how exercising your wrist has come in useful? And now pay attention – a lot of fencers make the mistake of executing a standing parry and freeze for a second, and that’s just when you can catch them out, strike – like so!’
‘Haa!’
‘Beautiful! Now jump away, jump away immediately, pirouette! I could have a dagger in my left hand! Good! Very good! And now, Ciri? What am I going to do now?’
‘How am I to know?’
‘Watch my feet! How is my body weight distributed? What can I do from this position?’
‘Anything!’
‘So spin, spin, force me to open up! Defend yourself! Good! And again! Good! And again!’
‘Owwww!’
‘Not so good.’
‘Uff . . . What did I do wrong?’
‘Nothing. I’m just faster. Take your guards off. We’ll sit for a moment, take a break. You must be tired, you’ve been running the Trail all morning.’
‘I’m not tired. I’m hungry.’
‘Bloody hell, so am I. And today’s Lambert’s turn and he can’t cook anything other than noodles … If he could only cook those properly . . .’
‘Coen?’
Aha?’
‘I’m still not fast enough—’
‘You’re very fast.’
‘Will I ever be as fast as you?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Hmm . . . And are you—? Who’s the best fencer in the world?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘You’ve never known one?’
‘I’ve known many who believed themselves to be the best.’
‘Oh! What were they? What were their names? What could they do?’
‘Hold on, hold on, girl. I haven’t got an answer to those questions. Is it all that important?’
‘Of course it’s important! I’d like to know who these fencers are. And where they are.’
‘Where they are? I know that.’
‘Ah! So where?’
‘In cemeteries.’
*
‘Pay attention, Ciri. We’re going to attach a third pendulum now -you can manage two already. You use the same steps as for two only there’s one more dodge. Ready?’
‘Yes.’
‘Focus yourself. Relax. Breathe in, breathe out. Attack!’
‘Ouch! Owwww . . . Damn it!’
‘Don’t swear. Did it hit you hard?’
‘No, it only brushed me . . . What did I do wrong?’
‘You ran in at too even a pace, you sped the second half-pirouette up a bit too much, and your feint was too wide. And as a result you were carried straight under the pendulum.’
‘But Geralt, there’s no room for a dodge and turn there! They’re too close to each other!’
‘There’s plenty of room, I assure you. But the gaps are worked out to force you to make arrhythmic moves. This is a fight, Ciri, not ballet. You can’t move rhythmically in a fight. You have to distract the opponent with your moves, confuse his reactions. Ready for another try?’
‘Ready. Start those damn logs swinging.’
‘Don’t swear. Relax. Attack!’
‘Ha! Ha! Well, how about that? How was that, Geralt? It didn’t even brush me!’
‘And you didn’t even brush the second sack with your sword. So I repeat, this is a fight. Not ballet, not acrobatics— What are you muttering now?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Relax. Adjust the bandage on your wrist. Don’t grip the hilt so tightly, it distracts you and upsets your equilibrium. Breathe calmly. Ready?’
‘Yes.’
‘Go!’
‘Ouch! May you— Geralt, it’s impossible! There’s not enough room for a feint and a change of foot. And when I strike from both legs, without a feint . . .’
‘I saw what happens when you strike without a feint. Does it hurt?’
‘No. Not much . . .’
‘Sit down next to me. Take a break.’
‘I’m not tired. Geralt, I’m not going to be able to jump over that third pendulum even if I rest for ten years. I can’t be any faster—’
‘And you don’t have to be. You’re fast enough.’
‘Tell me how to do it then. Half-pirouette, dodge and hit at the same time?’
‘It’s very simple; you just weren’t paying attention. I told you before you started – an additional dodge is necessary. Displacement. An additional half-pirouette is superfluous. The second time round, you did everything well and passed all the pendulums.’