Sword of Destiny Read Online Free PDF Page A

orders—’
    ‘Oh,’ Three Jackdaws interrupted him, ‘the girls are returning with the beer.’
    ‘And they aren’t alone,’ Dandelion added, standing up. ‘Look at that horse. Big as a dragon.’
    The Zerrikanians galloped up from the birch wood, flanking a rider sitting on a large, restless warhorse.
    The Witcher also stood up.
    The rider was wearing a long, purple, velvet kaftan with silver braid and a short coat trimmed with sable fur. Sitting erect in the saddle, he looked imperiously down at them. Geralt knew that kind of look. And was not fond of it.
    ‘Greetings, gentlemen. I am Dorregaray,’ the rider introduced himself, dismounting slowly and with dignity. ‘Master Dorregaray. Sorcerer.’
    ‘Master Geralt. Witcher.’
    ‘Master Dandelion. Poet.’
    ‘Borch, also known as Three Jackdaws. And my girls, who are removing the bung from that keg, you have already met, Master Dorregaray.’
    ‘That is so, indeed,’ the sorcerer said without a smile. ‘We exchanged bows, I and the beautiful warriors from Zerrikania.’
    ‘Well then, cheers,’ Dandelion distributed the leather cups brought by Véa. ‘Drink with us, Master Sorcerer. My Lord Borch, shall I also serve the decurion?’
    ‘Of course. Join us, soldier.’
    ‘I presume,’ the sorcerer said, after taking a small, distinguished sip, ‘that the same purpose has brought you gentlemen to the barrier on the bridge, as it has me?’
    ‘If you have the dragon in mind, Master Dorregaray,’ Dandelion said, ‘that is so, indeed. I want to be there and compose a ballad. Unfortunately, that decurion there, clearly a fellow without refinement, doesn’t want to let me through. He demands a safe-conduct.’
    ‘I beg your pardon,’ the halberdier said, draining his cup and smacking his lips. ‘I’ve been ordered on pain of death not to let anyone through without a safe-conduct. And I’m told the whole of Barefield has already gathered with wagons, and plans to head up after the dragon. I have my orders—’
    ‘Your orders, soldier,’ Dorregaray frowned, ‘apply to the rabble, who might hinder; trollops, who might spread debauchery and foul sicknesses; thieves, scum and rabble. But not to me.’
    ‘I won’t let anyone through without a safe-conduct,’ the decurion glowered, ‘I swear—’
    ‘Don’t swear,’ Three Jackdaws interrupted him. ‘Better to have another drink. Téa, pour this stout-hearted soldier a beer. And let us be seated, gentlemen. Drinking standing up, in a rush and without due reverence, does not become the nobility.’
    They sat down on logs around the keg. The halberdier, newly raised to nobility, blushed with pleasure.
    ‘Drink, brave centurion,’ Three Jackdaws urged.
    ‘But I am a decurion, not a centurion,’ the halberdier said, blushing even more intensely.
    ‘But you will be a centurion, for certain,’ Borch grinned. ‘You’re an astute fellow, you’ll be promoted in no time.’
    Dorregaray, declining a refill, turned towards Geralt.
    ‘People are still talking about the basilisk in town, Witcher, sir, and you now have your eye on the dragon, I see,’ he said softly. ‘I wonder whether you’re so short of money, or whether you murder endangered creatures for the simple pleasure of it.’
    ‘Curious interest,’ Geralt answered, ‘coming from someone who is rushing not to be late for the butchering of a dragon, in order to knock out its teeth, so crucial, after all, in the making of magical cures and elixirs. Is it true, sorcerer, sir, that the best ones are those removed from a living dragon?’
    ‘Are you certain that is why I am going there?’
    ‘I am. But someone has already beaten you to it, Dorregaray. A female companion of yours has already gone through with a safe-conduct, which you don’t have. She is black-haired, if that’s of any interest to you.’
    ‘On a black horse?’
    ‘Apparently.’
    ‘Yennefer,’ Dorregaray said, glumly. Unnoticed by anybody, the Witcher twitched.
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