Chapter 12: A Loss Akin to Death
Though he was desperate to lie down and sleep, Arthur insisted on going out with Walker to find the medicine. Miloslav's incident was a lesson: everyone had their own motivations and ideas, and an unexpected accident could happen at any time. He didn't want to open the door only to find Walker returning with the herbs, trailed by soldiers.
Tch, being careful about everything is exhausting.
Fortunately, Walker did not exaggerate this time and gathered all the herbs within a few minutes.
When they returned to the cottage, Claire had already cleaned the pot, and bright flames were licking at the bottom Walker's wife was also a woman of action.
The brewing of the Swallow potion was not complicated. If the user was a Witcher, tossing all the ingredients in would generally be fine. But for a common person, the conflicting properties of the various ingredients could produce toxins that would be fatal. The materials had to be carefully balanced through specific preparation techniques and the correct sequence of addition.
Even with the ability to observe the changing properties of each ingredient, balancing them was not easy. When a cloud of thick black vapor finally drifted from the pot, Arthur's back was soaked with sweat.
Facing Walker's gratitude, Arthur said: "Don't thank me so much. I was attacked by Kory outside the village earlier. Can you use his body to fake the illusion that I haven't left yet?"
Walker's face turned white: "Do you know what you're doing? This is treason!"
Arthur gritted his teeth: "If anything happens to Kolgrim, the Baron will learn what real treason is!"
He turned his head toward the Castle of Amavet, silently vowing:
Ignatius, I can be brutal and vicious, too. If I return to find my mentor has suffered an unfortunate accident, or a sudden illness, or was found hanged in his cell, or even struck by lightning, I will hold you personally responsible. When that happens, don't blame me for being merciless.
Walker helped Arthur onto his horse, saying solemnly:
"Be safe on the road! Once Lenna's condition stabilizes, I will also make another trip to Vizima! Miloslav said the wounds on Lenna's body were clearly not caused by a griffin!"
Arthur pulled the reins tight: "That's what I'm worried about. If Lenna was beaten this badly, given the Baron's character, there's no way he would return her so readily. He likely has something else planned. You all had better find a shelter in advance and hide the elderly and the women."
Kolgrim's earlier pronouncement that 'this whole thing won't be over until Hoffer Village is destroyed' had been spinning in his head these past few days. Now, on the eve of his departure, he finally spoke it aloud.
Walker heard Arthur's worry but didn't believe it: "Surely not. The establishment of Hoffer Village was granted by the King. He can't defy the King's will, can he?"
"What if the King made a promise to the Baron, too?" Arthur tried to press, but Walker was so trusting of the King that words alone couldn't sway him.
Seeing that the sky to the east was already turning pale, he dared not delay any longer and spurred his horse onto the road.
By the time he reached Vizima, the sky was bright.
In front of the towering city gate, farmers with carts laden with produce were already entering the city. A few beggars huddled beneath the wall, staring blankly.
Arthur dismounted, counted out a few copper shields, and carefully tucked away the rest of his money. According to Walker, some guards took advantage of lone travelers to extort money.
But after a few steps, he suddenly realized something was wrong. Although he had been riding all night, it was still morning why was the gate already so congested?
He looked up and saw that the road into the city wasn't blocked, but a crowd was gathered in front of the gate, looking at a notice. He instinctively made a fist with his left hand and squinted at it.
Arthur alomst fall off his horse when he saw this – the person drawn on the notice was clearly himself!
What in the blazes? Less than twenty-four hours had passed since the Baron turned on them, and the warrant was already posted in Vizima? Were the nobles in this world that efficient?
Arthur observed for a moment and noted that the soldiers by the gate seemed half-asleep. They weren't doing anything except collecting coin, which emboldened Arthur significantly.
Arthur walked toward the wall and asked the beggars: "Who wants to go into the city for a look?"
Begging for money inside the city was far easier than outside, and Arthur was instantly surrounded by a horde of little beggars. He picked the one who seemed most alert: "Don't say a word, and Uncle will take you into the city, alright?"
The little beggar nodded, looking very obedient.
As Arthur was about to leave, he saw the unchosen beggars looking dejected, with pitiful expressions. His heart softened. He pulled a few dry biscuits from his saddlebag, placed them on a clean stone, and quickly left.
Arthur first washed the little beggar's face and wrapped his tattered clothing in his cloak. Then, he deliberately dirtied his own clothes and pointed to a nearby vegetable farmer: "Does Uncle look like him?" Seeing the small beggar nod, Arthur felt more confident and strode toward the city gate.
At first, everything went exactly as planned. The guards at the gate saw Arthur's dirty clothes, the scrawny horse, and the child constantly looking around the picture of an inexperienced bumpkin. They didn't pay any mind, simply extending a hand, palm up, to signal him to pay the entrance tax.
However, the little beggar got overly excited and forgot Arthur's warning to 'not speak.' Pointing at the notice, he cried out:
"Uncle, the person painted on the wall isn't that you?"
The childish voice echoed in the gatehouse. The two soldiers instantly lost all sleepiness and moved to grab Arthur without a word.
'Crap, now I'm getting the Cao Cao treatment...'
Arthur cursed inwardly. He shoved the taller soldier, sending him sprawling, and spun around to run.
The short, fat soldier panicked. He had been on the miserable, poor, and exhausting morning shift for three years. Now, his performance bonus was walking right out the door! How could he let him escape! Seeing Arthur's ferocity, the fat soldier didn't dare engage him alone, instead yelling at the top of his lungs:
"Thief! Catch the thief! Anyone who helps catch the thief won't have to pay the entrance tax! Gag his mouth! Gag his mouth! His voice has magic!"
The fat soldier shouted without reservation any tax collected had to be submitted anyway, but the credit would be all his!
Following the soldier's bellow, Arthur was instantly in trouble. Before he could run a few steps, countless hands were grabbing and tugging at him, and a large white pear was shoved into his mouth.
Arthur was tempted to use his Battle Cry to clear the area, but the power for that ability came from the accumulated rage of combat, and facing a crowd of terrified vegetable farmers, that fire couldn't burn brightly enough. He cursed his luck, regretting that he hadn't seized the soldier first before trying to break through.
In the midst of the struggle, footsteps suddenly rang out ahead. The crowd instantly scattered, revealing several armored figures behind them.
They were City Guards not the gate guards who merely extorted poor laborers, but the guards who patrolled the city's streets and alleys daily, suppressing all manner of vile criminals!
In the center of these guards, a neatly dressed middle-aged man walked steadily forward. Arthur tore free from the farmer holding him, bit through the pear in his mouth, and shouted, juice spraying everywhere:
"Your men have the wrong person! The wrong person!"
The middle-aged man looked at the two gate guards who were now bowing and scraping beside him and said with displeasure:
"Since when have we had a wanted criminal in Vizima? Why do I not know about this?"
Arthur's eyes lit up, and he quickly argued:
"Exactly! I've never committed a crime in Vizima! I'm here to seek refuge with my relatives!"
....
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