Page 20 - The Witcher Story

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Foltest was slim and had a pretty – too pretty – face. He was under forty,
the witcher thought. The king was sitting on a dwarf- armchair carved from
black wood, his legs stretched out toward the hearth, where two dogs were
warming themselves. Next to him on a chest sat an older, powerfully-built
man with a beard. Behind the king stood another man, richly dressed and
with a proud look on his face. A magnate.
‘A witcher from Rivia,’ said the king after the moment’s silence which
fell after Velerad’s introduction.
‘Yes, your Majesty.’ Geralt lowered his head.
‘What made your hair so grey? Magic? I can see that you are not old.
That was a joke. Say nothing. You’ve had a fair amount of experience,
I dare presume?’
‘Yes, your Majesty.’
‘I would love to hear about it.’
Geralt bowed even lower. ‘Your Majesty, you know our code of practice
forbids us to speak of our work.’
‘A convenient code, witcher, very convenient. But tell me, have you had
anything to do with spriggans?’
‘Yes.’
‘Vampires, leshys?’
‘Those too.’
Foltest hesitated.
‘Strigas?’
Geralt raised his head, looking the king in the eyes.
‘Yes.’
Foltest turned his eyes away.
‘Velerad!’
‘Yes, Gracious Majesty?’
‘Have you given him the details?’

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The Witcher Story ENG.indd 19 7/23/08 11:04:16 PM