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After a struggle between horse and rider, Geralt finally gives in and searches for tracks. This is easier said than done. By nightfall, he still strides through the forest as he hears a rustling sound from behind a group of trees. Not from a small animal, not even from a bigger one as he discovers. He finds a maid, severely wounded and frightened. He just wants to help her up, as a knife presses to his throat.
"Hands off of her!" a female voice demands. He lifts his hands slightly to show he doesn't mean any harm. He noted a slight shake to the demanding voice, so he takes the risk and turns his head, slowly, to not cut himself. But the knife isn't pressed firmly to his throat anyway. Its holder must not know much about wielding a blade – which makes them significantly more dangerous as they can't be judged. However, Geralt keeps asking himself why on earth he didn't hear anyone coming.
As he catches sight of the knife's holder, his breath stops for a moment. There stands the Lady Lorelay. Dirt covers her dress, her hair is dishevelled, but her eyes hold a fierce expression. It is clear that she won't let herself be defeated easily. The remaining knights are nowhere in sight, Geralt didn't see them on the battlefield.
As she looks at him more closely, she recognizes him.
"It's you," she states quietly,
"I've seen you before...in the city." He carefully nods once.
"I'm here to help," he says – Jaskier would probably comment that those words from his mouth sound rather uncharacteristically. Her brow knits together.
"How?" she inquires,
"How could you know of this attack?" She is clever, he must give her that, not just a beauty who can't think for herself.
"I travelled not far behind your caravan," he explains. She is silent for a moment, weighing her options. If she trusts him too quickly, he could betray her easily. If she doesn't trust him at all, she must kill him now. She hesitates. He is a Witcher, what gain would he have of betraying her? Unless he has a job to do. Geralt keeps his stoic poise, not moving a muscle. He can take a guess or two about what she is thinking.
"Would you mind taking that away?" he asks and pushes the knife from his throat. Reluctantly, she follows his movement. She decided.
"You're Geralt of Rivia, is that right?" she asks and surprises him that she doesn't just call him 'Witcher'. He admires her respect. Slowly, he rises.
"Milady," he bows his head slightly and helps the maid up,
"We need to find a place to stay for the night."
"But they surely are still searching for..." she hesitates for a second before continuing,
"Me. Shouldn't we keep moving?" He looks at her quizzically,
"They? Do you know who they are?" She averts her eyes,
"No." Pain fills her voice as she thinks of her people. She left them behind, running like a coward to save her own skin.
~*~
They rest and try to travel. The maid, Nova, on the horse and Geralt and Lorelay on foot. Due to Nova's injuries, they are slow, the young woman needs a healer to tend to her. Lorelay surprises the Witcher as she proves to know the one or other thing about cleaning wounds and herbs to treat them. At first, she pleaded with Lorelay to go and save herself, but the lady refused vehemently. She would never leave anyone behind again. Later, Nova asks her two companions – three with Roach – to stay with her as she feels her last breath nearby. In spite of Lorelay trying her best, the wound is infected, and Nova gets worse.
In the morning of the third day after the attack, the maid dies. Lorelay is devasted as Nova was her friend and still so young. Geralt stands by helplessly before patting her shoulder. She appreciates the gesture and buries her face in her hands, crying quietly. It seems even a little eerie to him until she lets out a heart-breaking sob and rises to her feet, keeping her eyes downcast.
"I want to bury her," she says, looking at him as if waiting for his permission. He notes her red eyes and the stains the tears left on her dirty face. They would need to keep moving on as the attackers won't be far, but he can't deny her wish. So, they rush to build Nova a grave of stones.
As it is finished, Lorelay kneels in front of the grave, hands folded in her lab, head down. She keeps completely still. Geralt stands behind her before he steps next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"It's not your fault," he tries to sooth her. A few seconds go by until she lifts her head to meet his gaze.
"But it is," she whispers,
"They're all dead because of me. I'm the one that the attackers want, just me. If I-" she is cut off by his deep voice.
"If you'd gone with them willingly, they still would have killed your people," he says,
"Now come, we need to go." She doesn't move, though, her gaze resting on him. He can't bear the look of her eyes, so completely helpless and guilty. So, he bows down, wraps an arm around her waist and hoists her up. He carries her to Roach and helps her in the saddle.
"What about you?" she asks quietly. He takes the reigns and leads the horse away from the fresh grave, north.
