The White Werewolf || Season One: Ties That Bind

Chapter Thirty-Six

Vizima, 1243

Robin stared curiously at the sign affixed to a post as Geralt paused by it. "Temeria," she read, "Realm of monsters and cowardly kings. Did you hear anything of this when you were here last?"

Geralt shook his head. "Several people at the inn told me they were having an undead problem. I killed the undead, with your help, of course. And then I left."

"Left me on the road to fend for myself," she quipped, nudging him.

"I came back for you," he huffed, smirking.

"There's a song in this somewhere," Jaskier mused. "Something about a reunion, maybe."

"It's not a reunion if we've been together the whole time, Jaskier," Geralt protested.

Jaskier shrugged. "A technicality easily fixed by the use of fiction," he replied, shuddering as a crisp wind blew through them. "This place is very dreary, isn't it?"

"It is," Geralt agreed nonchalantly. "Let's go."

****

After an unsuccessful meeting with the miners and then Foltest's guards, they were being escorted out of the city through the dark woods surrounding it. Robin was thankful that no one had seemed to recognize them, at least. That was something.

"What were they saying is plaguing them?" Jaskier whispered. "A vukodlak? What is that?"

"A minor form of undead," Geralt explained. "It can't possibly be what's causing them all this trouble. But they don't seem very interested in finding out more."

Before the guards could respond to his jab, they all slowly slid from their horses onto the ground. Geralt was immediately alert as their armor clanked against the wet, cold, snow-covered dirt, leaping off of Roach and drawing his iron sword.

Robin grabbed Roach's reins and looked around. "I sense magic," she told him.

Geralt nodded as a low hiss echoed through the trees.

"Witcher..."

"Hold Roach," Robin commanded, handing her reins to Jaskier and joining Geralt.

A woman appeared on the road before them. Her dress was green and gold, and her face was hidden by a large hood.

"You can put down your sword," she told Geralt. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Says the witch hiding in the woods," he growled.

Robin was tense beside him, threads of magic starting to whirl around her fingers. The woman's head tilted curiously.

"Sorceress," she corrected him.

"Witch," he snarled.

She swept her hood back, revealing dark curls and a face decorated with freckles. "Much like the one standing beside you?" she inquired.

"She's a mage," Geralt replied shortly.

Robin found herself curious about the distinction, but decided it was something best discussed later.

"I am Triss Merigold," the woman introduced herself. "I serve King Foltest."

"So he makes a show of kicking me out, then sends his errand girl to slip me some coin so I'll kill his monster?"

Geralt relaxed his stance, though he didn't sheathe his sword. He approached Triss with a sneer on his face.

"Not a very original plan for a king," he decided.