Novigrad (Part 9)

"It was a simple job, Jaskier. So simple and straightforward that I'm hard-pressed to find anything of similar difficulty. Its simplicity consisted of one simple sentence. Tip me the whereabouts of your young friend every day. Especially when he is planning to go and commit suicide. But you fucked up even such a simple task, you bard without brains." - obese man with an arctic look in his eyes and chilly face was raging. Purple clad poet in front of him never gave a damn. He was only here to protect a youthful man laying on the bed.

"I don't remember admitting to the job." - replied Jaskier with a sullen face.

"Don't play smarts with me, Jaskier. I tend to dislike such people. People who in their cockiness and negligence think they can outsmart me. Do you know where all these people now? Dead, Jaskier. Feeding fish or monsters in places, where I ordered to drop them off. So let's stay civil. Believe me, it is in your interests."

"You can keep threats to yourself, Dijkstra. What will you do? Kill me?"

"I don't mind. But I dislike pointless killing. You have more worth alive than dead. However... if your worth goes down and becomes null, I might change my decision, are we clear?" - Dijkstra looked gloomy and irritated. He really disliked dealing with Jaskier, who brought a lot of trouble, despite being great spy material.

Jaskier only nodded, trying to suppress his nervousness. He can play words with Dijkstra, but he will never dare to make him furious.

"You see, my dear poet for the audience with no taste and lover of cheap pussies from port brothel, you screwed up big time. And yes, don't look at me with those angry eyes. I would be nervous if it was Geralt and even Alan getting angry, but you are just comical, so drop it, will you? Of course, you will. You will do what I say like an obedient dog, Jaskier. Or you will be an obedient but dead dog. Oh, where were we? Right! You screwed up. Do you even know how hard it was to bring them back? Do you know if we were just a moment later both of them would have been dead already? No? And do you know why? Because you, Jaskier, didn't listen to my orders. Don't go screaming like a pig or crying as a wronged maiden, we both know how you are. So leave this shitty performance for the ones who are impressed with it, because I'm not. If only you were obedient and like a dutiful boy told me what is going on, they wouldn't have ended up in such dire condition."

"Honorable Dijkstra, of all your strengths, I never imagined that you can fight monsters better than witchers. You opened my eyes wide and broaden my world with how high you think about yourself!" - Jaskier didn't back down one bit. Somehow today he was especially moody.

He disliked every single cell about Redanian superspy. The very presence of this man irritated him. But his nervousness had another root.

Bard glanced at the woman, seated calmly by the side. She was sipping red wine in silence while glancing in wonder at the bed from time to time. Her eyes looked amused while tracing the youthful face with a vertical thin scar across the eye and a waterfall of silky hair as black as the finest ink.

It took her much effort to drag the youth from the firm grip of death back to the world of the living, and she wanted some compensation. More than that, she grew interested in his magic talent. He was extraordinary, magnificent, and powerful.

He can be the sharpest weapon of the Council or its deadliest foe.

"Monster you say." - the woman said. Jaskier shivered slightly. She was a very unpleasant sorceress, despite the polite smile that looked like a grin of a carnivore beast ready for a feast. If anything, one must admit that she was dangerously attractive and cunning like a snake. - "Speaking of that monster, it is rather... unique, I must say. But, gentlemen, can we stop your adolescent cock thickness competition and get down to proper discussion? I implore you sincerely."

"Philippa, let's not play the usual games. If you have anything to say, just say it."

"It's easy. You see, Dijkstra, our job here is to catch a certain individual with a bait. But it has nothing to do with your other plan, and although our dear Vizimir gave a special order to you concerning Novigrad, I don't care what will come of it. We have more at stake than some stupid play of conquest that came to his head at the wrong time. So don't mix your scheming to get certain documents with the actual purpose of why I'm even here, okay?" - Philippa wasn't exactly angry.

She can be considered an eerie, calm person who can dismember a kid with a sweet smile on her face. Or at least that's the reputation she earned through the many decades of long life.

As for real her... perhaps no one knows.

"I meant to point out what happened is unfortunate. But that's it. Both are alive, although it took me some effort to patch them up. They will wake up shortly. However, I can't ignore the monster they fought. Or to be more specific the certain quality of it, that I want to discuss with young witcher."

"Leave him alone, Philippa. He is just a boy, not even half my age, let alone yours."

"And who are you to talk to me that way?" - she gave the poet a fleeting glance of total disregard, as if looking at an annoying bug. - "Mind your place, while you still have it."

"Is it a threat?" - Jaskier mastered all his cockiness and proudly asked the question.

"Are you worthy?" - she didn't even look at the poor bard and elegantly took a sip from the glass, all the while glancing at Alan.

"Aren't you the one who asked to keep strictly to business?" - smiled Dijkstra.

"Jaskier have the talent to piss off people." - said Philippa seething with sarcasm.

"That he has. To piss off people and to ruin even the most trivial thing. You know, Jaskier. I'm sad." - the bard gave him a look of despise, to which Dijkstra smiled coldly. - "My sadness has a deep root in the results of our collaboration. And when I'm sad, I tend to find a way to get better. Happiness is but a state of mind, which I seek to maintain as long as possible, after all, people say that the more you laugh, the longer you will live. And you, Jaskier, only bring me sadness. You are shortening my life with your actions, after all, I'm very concerned with the results of your tasks. Now tell me, my dear useless piece of horse dung, what should I do with you? Should I punish you? Maybe burn your hair? Or pluck all your fingernails out?"

"How about you understand, forgive, and free me of your noble presence? The door is that way. And from then on, your life will be nice and easy. You will laugh more and live longer? How is it?"

Dijkstra was furious this time and Jaskier knew that he was about to cross the line, after which people usually end up in some gutter with a slit throat.

So he hung his head low and shivered, showing remorse over his actions.

"Jaskier, can't you understand that what I am doing here is vital to the whole North? Do you think I have much free time to play with your sophistry and poetical virtues? Unlike you, I am busy with many people to take responsibilities over. And you can't even accomplish the most trivial thing. It was such a simple task. To report if anything happens and if Alan left anywhere. You can't even do such triviality and I saw people losing their heads over less notable mistakes." - said Dijkstra.

"Leave it, gentlemen. In one thing, Jaskier is right. Even if we knew, the outcome would be the same." - said Philipa and received a look of disbelief from the bard. - "What's wrong? Oh, dear, you can't possibly think so badly of me. Did you really think I can't analyze facts in front of my eyes? I'm a sorceress, not a stupid port whore. And if you dare even smirk about what I said, you won't see tomorrow, so choose your reactions wisely."

Jaskier who was ready to snort over her remark shivered with fear instead.

"Good. Looks like you have some manners, at least. Now, can we go?"

"A minute." - said Dijkstra while standing up. He placed an envelope on the table by the window. - "Jaskier. I will assign another very simple task. It is so simple that even you can't screw it up. See this envelope? Yes? Inspect it closer. It is a rectangle, not round, and it is not black but my favorite color, red. See? It is here, on this table. Remembered? You won't mistake it. Right? Obedient boy, Jaskier, take a reward of not receiving a sword in the gut. See, we can do it politely. So your task is not to come near it. Do you hear me? Don't touch it, don't look at it, don't breathe near it, and just wait for Alan to wake up and look through it nicely. Understood your task?"

"I'm not a kid, Dijkstra. I'm an educated man. A poet with name and fame. Mind your speech!"

"Of course you are not." - lied superspy with a smile. - "So prove it to me. Don't fail this time. Philippa, you want to say anything?"

"Open the window."

Jaskier stood up while grumbling something under his nose and in a fit kicked the window open. Philippa rolled her eyes at his rebellious prank and flew away after shifting to an enormous owl.

"You see, Jaskier, it took my people some time to find the duo and even more for Philippa to patch them up. Today, your childish behavior nearly cost them their lives. You are forty. It is time to grow up." - said Dijkstra and walked to the door.

"And by growing up you mean listening to you? To follow your orders and spy on my friends?" - snorted Jaskier.

"Yes, and also to be responsible for the consequences of your actions. They might have died today, Jaskier. But I bet you don't give a shit. Unlike others, I know you. You are an unfeeling, cynical piece of shit. Until we meet again, maestro." - with these words still lingering in the air, Dijkstra left the room in the inn.

Tomorrow will be a big day, and he hoped that Alan will wake up to uphold his side of the deal.