The immense magical force released when the curse was lifted sent thunder rolling across the sky. Lightning tore through the heavens, the air rumbled, and the earth trembled faintly.
The sky abruptly darkened as clouds spread over both banks of the Pontar. Beneath the dismal overcast, a freezing wind howled.
At that moment, both Vergen's rebels and Kaedwen's regular army cowered before the boundless power of magic.
The heavens shook and the earth quaked.
A devastating torrent of hail came pounding down, mercilessly battering everything around it.
...
Several hours later, south of the Pontar, inside the Dragonslayer's residence in Vergen.
When Philippa Eilhart entered the room, Saskia was smiling as she polished a steel sword. The sorceress could sense that it was enchanted.
Sure enough, in the next instant, the Virgin of Aedirn swung the weapon and flames surged along its blade.
It was an interesting weapon. Philippa did not know where Saskia had obtained it, but she had no intention of wasting time asking. She had something far more important to say.
"This will not do, Saskia. Angoulême has already left the city to search for him. Trust me, nothing will happen to Victor. You should be concentrating on something more important, directing Vergen's defensive preparations."
The Dragonslayer flicked her wrist, extinguishing the flames on the steel sword.
"Commanding armies is something I excel at, Madam Eilhart. I see nothing wrong with spending a little time waiting and showing concern for a friend."
"But you have never commanded the defense of a besieged city..."
"Neither have you, Philippa. And I was just about to tell you that my faithful friend, Victor of Kaer Trolde, is an expert in defensive warfare. With his assistance, we can prepare many more traps."
The sorceress's expression remained calm, her black eyes dark and unfathomable.
"My dear Saskia, I understand what you mean. But Zoltan, Yarpen, and Iorveth are waiting for you. Your army needs your will.
"The Second War for Upper Aedirn is over. Regardless of who might be absent, the Third War for Upper Aedirn is about to begin."
Saskia laughed brightly, looking bold and magnificent.
"Oh, no, my dear Madam Eilhart, you do not understand! From the moment this became a siege, the only uncertainty has been whether our victory will be complete or merely partial.
"Put your worries aside. Victor and I do not share the kind of relationship you are imagining.
"He is my friend, unlike any friend I have ever had before. A friend who can stand as my equal in both thought and will.
"I chose to wait for a while because there are many tactics I wanted to discuss with him before arranging our defenses. Since he still has not returned, something must have delayed him.
"Very well. I understand."
After returning the carefully maintained enchanted sword to its hidden compartment, the Dragonslayer abruptly rose and strode out of the room with her head held high.
She possessed both the determination and confidence needed to win this war.
...
North of the Pontar, near the Kaedweni camp, inside an abandoned elven ruin.
A warm campfire crackled nearby. A bearskin cushioned his back.
Emerging from unconsciousness, Geralt stared at the unfamiliar ceiling of the cavern and recalled what had happened not long before.
The curse had been lifted successfully. Then the anti-magic shock wave had shattered the seal on his memories, causing a splitting headache.
He must have lost consciousness.
Geralt sat up on the bearskin.
Unexpectedly, the person sitting beside the fire was Ves, the lieutenant of the Blue Stripes.
A bandage was wrapped around her arm, every button on her shirt was neatly fastened, and she stared grimly into the flames. She appeared to be in a terrible mood.
Two more campfires burned nearby. Seven or eight members of the Blue Stripes sat around them. Every one of them was injured, and they were applying medicine and bandaging one another.
After moving his arms and legs, the White Wolf confirmed that he had not been injured.
"May I ask what happened?"
"Which part are you asking about, what happened to the Blue Stripes or what happened to you?" the lieutenant replied indifferently.
She then pointed toward the entrance.
"Never mind. I don't understand how everything ended up like this either. Go find Vic. He's outside talking to Roche. Let him explain it to you."
Geralt shrugged, rose, and headed outside, leaving the campfires and the Blue Stripes behind.
Outside the ruins, the summer night sky was clear and pristine. A curved moon hung among countless stars.
He rounded the mountainside and stopped when the wind carried Victor and Roche's voices toward him.
"I told you not to push things so recklessly. When it was time to run, you should have run. How did you think that arrogant clown would treat the man who encouraged his people to open their eyes?
"Henselt appears shortsighted and stupid because greed has blinded him, but he is no fool. And Dethmold, that simpering fop who never stops grinning, did you really think he was nothing more than a middle-aged pervert?"
The sound of clapping followed.
"Lord Prophet Victor, thank you for your equally useless lectures before and after the disaster. Who didn't know we couldn't remain there for long?
"Still, I should thank you. The smear pamphlets you wrote were effective and vicious enough. Combined with the hailstorm that suddenly fell from the sky, they allowed us to escape a hopeless situation. Kaedweni morale will certainly suffer a crushing blow this time!"
"You're my friend, so I'm willing to warn you. Next time, you might not be this fortunate.
"Think about it. If the curse had not happened to break and the hail had not struck when it did, every one of you might have died inside that camp.
"Even after successfully escaping, if you hadn't encountered me and received my help against the pursuers, you wouldn't have been able to preserve even those seven or eight remaining men. Ves might have died as well.
"Could you have accepted that outcome?"
Roche did not answer.
The air remained silent for a short time until Victor broke it.
"What are you planning to do next?"
"After exchanging information with you, I still don't know what will happen next, but I know where to find the answers.
"Every clue points toward Loc Muinne. The Council and Conclave, the institutions that once represented the authority of all Northern mages and sorceresses, are about to be reestablished there.
"Radovid V, the ruler of Redania, has been invited to attend. Since the summit is being held within Kaedwen, Henselt will presumably be present as well.
"More interestingly, Nilfgaard has actually sent Ambassador Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen as its representative, even though the Council and Conclave shattered the Empire's ambitions during the Second Northern War!
"Just look at everything gathered there. Triss, Nilfgaard, Radovid, a crowd of mages, and the killers who murdered kings. Far too many eggs have been placed in the Loc Muinne basket.
"Years of intelligence work have taught me one thing, never believe in coincidences. I would wager that whoever is behind all this has chosen Loc Muinne as the place to reveal their hand. The chaotic situation will finally become clear there.
"What do you think, Prophet Victor? Is there any further wisdom you wish to bestow upon this fool?"
"I have nothing to add. I completely agree with your conclusions about Loc Muinne. The wise Vernon Roche, blue-blooded prince and Avenger of Temeria, has already seen through everything."
"Damn you and that rotten mouth! It will get you hanged one day!"
"There is no need to worry about me. I study Signs and hone my swordsmanship precisely so this little mouth can speak its mind whenever it pleases."
"I can't be bothered arguing with an asshole like you. Dawn is approaching. I need to sleep for a while. Tomorrow, we'll find a boat and travel east along the Pontar to Loc Muinne. Are you coming with us?"
"No. I intend to join the Third War for Upper Aedirn, although that choice is hardly appropriate for a witcher."
Roche encountered Geralt while returning to the ruins. He shook his head without saying anything and merely reached out to pat the White Wolf's shoulder.
...
Victor Corion, the Last Dovahkiin, lay on the grass and gazed at the stars before dawn.
Geralt sat down, taking Roche's former place.
"Vic, my memories have returned. The kingslayer... No, Letho is my friend. Auckes and Serrit were my friends as well. They helped me pursue the Wild Hunt and rescue Yennefer after she was abducted!"
Victor was not surprised by this outcome. He raised his eyebrows.
"You remembered Yennefer? You pursued the Wild Hunt, but what happened afterward?"
"No. Yennefer is still only a name to me. I cannot picture her. I don't remember what happened afterward either, but Letho, Auckes, Serrit, and I undeniably entrusted our lives to one another. I don't understand why they became kingslayers!"
Victor's tone was languid.
"Letho left a message asking me to tell you that your reputation would soon be cleared. If Roche's conclusions are correct, I suspect he'll give you an explanation during the summit at Loc Muinne."
"Perhaps he will, but I still intend to pursue him. I need to know why he did it, or rather, for whom."
"Why do you care so much? Is the reason truly that important? I thought you should be concentrating on finding Triss."
The Viper and the White Wolf were both Victor's friends.
He hoped Geralt would shift his attention toward finding Triss rather than relentlessly pursuing the kingslayers. The sorceress's safety was the principal source of conflict between them. If that problem could be resolved successfully, it should reduce the possibility of his friends killing one another.
"Witchers do not step into the political quagmire without reason. I don't like the rules by which kings govern this world, but no one has found anything better in a very long time. Murdering kings solves nothing. It only makes everything worse."
Victor thought of the Nilfgaardian Empire to the south and of the republic Saskia was about to establish, then sighed inwardly.
No.
Assassinating kings could resolve countless military and political difficulties. It could cause Temeria's armies to collapse like a house of cards, and it could permit Saskia's republic to be established.
However, there was no point explaining that to the White Wolf now.
"What will you do after you catch Letho?"
"Once I have heard the truth from his own mouth, perhaps I'll agree with what he did. Or perhaps I'll cut off his head."
"What a pity. I'll warn you in advance that I want him to live. Whatever happens, I'll stop you when the time comes."
Geralt folded his arms across his chest and released a long breath. He decided to change the subject and leave the matter of Letho aside for now.
"I expected to awaken in Vergen. Why did you bring me north of the Pontar?"
Victor chuckled and sprang up from the grass.
"Let me show you a derivative Sign I recently developed. You once taught me the Yrden Binding Seal, so this time I'll teach you one of mine."
Geralt's white ponytail rippled dramatically in the breeze.
He did not understand why the subject had shifted so abruptly, but he trusted Victor. The young man with neatly parted blond hair never acted without a reason.
Victor curled his thumb and little finger inward.
"Quen: Concealment Sign."
With a thought and a gesture, the Sign activated.
A thin membrane of Quen energy instantly covered the young man. The distinctive magical patterns flowing across it made the White Wolf's eyes brighten.
Geralt was one of the finest witchers alive, a master of the School of the Wolf whose experience was surpassed only by Vesemir's. He immediately recognized the exceptional value of this Sign.
Quen: Concealment Sign offered no physical protection, but it could hide the caster's life force for a short time.
Before monsters that hunted through magical perception, the caster would effectively become invisible.
If they had possessed this Sign earlier on the wraith-infested battlefield, they could have moved freely and would never have been chased across the field by Vandergrift.
It was an extremely practical technique.
Once Geralt became interested, he immediately asked Victor to teach him. After a short period of practice, he learned how to cast it.
"Quen: Concealment Sign!"
The White Wolf successfully cast the Sign, surrounding himself with its magical barrier. He then remembered his earlier question.
"So this Sign is connected to the reason you didn't return to Vergen?"
The Dragonborn applauded the century-old witcher's powers of deduction, then removed the concealment amulet from inside his clothing.
"It is directly connected. I have a considerable natural talent for sensing the flow of magic. I derived the Concealment Sign from this object Philippa gave me. But look here on the amulet..."
Geralt opened his cat eyes wide and examined the spot Victor indicated.
He could not see anything unusual and could only stare at Victor in utter bafflement.
Victor seriously tapped one corner of the amulet.
"Right here. The runic circuit has suffered slight damage. Once the amulet is activated, the magic stored inside continuously leaks through this point, causing it to lose its concealment effect very quickly."
Understanding the implications, the White Wolf's gaze instantly sharpened.
Victor had dared to participate in lifting the curse because the concealment amulet was supposed to protect his life. Its sudden failure while he was surrounded by enemies could easily have resulted in his death on the spot.
Victor, the suspected victim, smiled brilliantly.
"Of course, I have no evidence. The damaged runes could have been an accident.
"But suppose someone, Philippa or Cynthia, wanted me to die. By not immediately returning to Vergen, I might cause her to reveal herself.
"Cynthia is Philippa's apprentice, an arrogant blond sorceress.
"In any case, I carried you toward the Kaedweni camp, intending to find somewhere to rest. Then I encountered Roche and his men while they were fleeing. After a chaotic fight with their pursuers, we ended up here."
Geralt laughed.
"That was surprisingly simple. What are you planning to do tomorrow?"
"There's a concealed passage through the mountain behind Vergen. Once the battle begins, I intend to sneak into Philippa's residence and search for clues."
"You're that confident about Vergen's chances during the siege? I thought you wanted the nonhumans to win and Saskia's republic to be established."
"Wars are not decided by individual prowess, but by preparation. The side that plans thoroughly wins, while the side that plans poorly loses.
"To be honest, the methods Kaedwen and Aedirn have historically used in siege warfare are far too crude. Over the past several days, I gave Saskia many interesting suggestions for defending the city.
"Naturally, Henselt will not find them interesting."
"If you're that confident, then I won't participate in the battle. Tomorrow, I'll leave with the Blue Stripes and travel to Loc Muinne to investigate the situation."
"Geralt of Rivia, the finest swordsman in the North, would you consider helping us? I actually believe individual prowess is still rather important. Vergen needs your steel sword."
"No. I must refuse. Witchers should remain neutral. As for your decision to participate, I know nothing about it, and I certainly won't report you to Vesemir."
"Neutrality, my ass! You're a damned hypocrite. Angoulême already told me in private about all the glorious deeds you performed in the past!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I..."
"Don't use amnesia as an excuse!"
...
For the rest of the night, the two bored witchers continued trading insults until the first golden ray of dawn pierced the clouds.
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