Page 22 - The Witcher Story

‘That’s right. But don’t say striga, say princess. It makes it easier to avoid
making a mistake in the king’s presence – and any consequent unpleas-
antness.’
‘Was there anyone well-known among the Knowing Ones? Anyone
famous?’
‘There were such, then and later. I don’t remember the names. Do you,
Lord Ostrit?’
‘I don’t recall,’ said the magnate. ‘But I know some of them enjoyed fame
and recognition. There was much talk of it.’
‘Were they in agreement that the spell can be lifted?’ ‘They were far from
any agreement,’ smiled Segelin, ‘on any
subject. But such an opinion was expressed. It was supposed to be sim-
ple, not even requiring magical abilities. As I understand it, it would suffice
for someone to spend the night – from sunset to the third crowing of the
cock – by the sarcophagus.’
‘Simple indeed,’ snorted Velerad.
‘I would like to hear a description of the... the princess.’
Velerad leapt up from his chair. ‘The princess looks like a striga!’ he
yelled. ‘Like the most strigish striga I have heard of! Her Royal Highness,
the cursed royal bastard, is four cubits high, shaped like a barrel of beer,
has a maw which stretches from ear to ear and is full of dagger-like teeth,
has red eyes and a red mop of hair! Her paws, with claws like a wild cat’s,
hang down to the ground! I’m surprised we’ve yet to send her likeness to
friendly courts! The princess, plague choke her, is already fourteen. Time
to think of giving her hand to a prince in marriage!’
‘Hold on, Velerad,’ frowned Ostrit, glancing at the door. Segelin smiled
faintly.
‘The description, although vivid, is reasonably accurate, and that’s what
you wanted, isn’t it, witcher? Velerad didn’t mention that the princess moves
with incredible speed and is far stronger for her height and build than one
would expect. And she is fourteen years old, if that is of any importance.’

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