THE WITCHER'S CHOICE

Part 10: WHO ARE YOU?

PART 10

Geralt was sitting on the dirt floor of the hut. His hands were tied on his back, around the post that held the roof of the hut in its centre. He lifted his head when he saw Patrick enter the place.

"Where is Elyn?" he demanded.

"I'm not here to answer your questions, you filthy scum," said Patrick, spitting on him.

"What have you done with her?" he insisted.

Patrick hit him in the face with his closed fist, hard. Geralt tasted blood in his mouth.

"She is facing judgement for betrayal, for bringing you here, you piece of shit."

Geralt spat blood on the floor and looked at Patrick in a way that would have scared even a basilisk.

"She was trying to help you, moron," he snarled. "If you touch her..."

"What? Tell me, what are you going to do? Carry out your mission and finish us all?"

Geralt frowned.

"Oh, yes, she told us about your mission," went on Patrick.

"There is no mission," said Geralt.

"Of course there is, you are one of them."

"One of who?"

"The Black Ones."

"What Black Ones?"

"Don't play dumb with me, you are one of them, a Nilfgaardian."

"You were attacked by Nilfgaardians? What were they doing this far north?"

"Like you don't know."

"I don't. It doesn't make sense," shook his head Geralt.

"Pretending ignorance won't save you," warned him Patrick. "When we finish with Elyn, it will be your turn."

With that, Patrick left the hut. Geralt fought furiously to free his hands but the knots were too tight.

"Fuck," he groaned in frustration.

Half an hour later, the bound witcher received another visit. This time, it was a woman with red hair. She carried a dagger in her hand.

"I don't think Patrick will approve of me being killed privately," he said nonchalantly. "I have a feeling he wants to execute me publicly, probably in a very spectacular fashion."

"Be quiet," she warned.

She squatted beside him and he felt his medallion jump on his chest, detecting magic.

"Who are you?" he narrowed his eyes.

"Be quiet," she repeated, while cutting the ropes that tied him to the post with the dagger.

"You'll get in trouble for doing this," he commented.

She didn't respond.

"I know you, don't I?" he grabbed her arm.

It was not her face, it was something else, a feeling... a long forgotten memory.

"Who are you?" he enquired again.

"This is not the right time for this, Geralt," she said. "I don't know why you are in Talgar, but you have to get out of here."

"It is you..." he whispered, his eyes wide.

"I brought your horse to the back of the hut. Leave, now. Get yourself to safety," she urged him.

"You are... you are Visenna," he said without moving.

"You have to leave," she insisted without denying his statement.

"I'm not going anywhere without Elyn, I'm not abandoning her," he declared.

"I already took Elyn back to Brumswick. She is safe. They are going south. You can easily catch up with them on your horse. Please, Geralt, you need to go."

"Very well," he decided, taking her by the arm and dragging her out of the hut.

He saw two villagers unconscious on the floor by the door of the hut. Probably guards that Visenna had put to sleep.

"Geralt! What are you doing?" she protested.

"You are coming with me," he said, going round the hut into the forest.

Roach was calmly waiting, tethered to a tree.

"That damned sorceress," muttered Geralt to himself. "She was right."

"What sorceress? What are you talking about? Geralt?" she frowned.