167 Toussaint (Part 6)

Alan walked through the streets full of people, basked in the warm summer sun. Here it was mild, but very warm. He looked at the bright glob of light in the sky while pupils narrowed into barely visible slits.

A girl by the side pointed at him and hid behind her mother, gazing at him with curiosity. A man bolted away with a fright and vigilance, placing a hand on the hilt of the sword.

'Different places, same people.'

He walked ahead to the nearby inn under the scrutinizing and nervous gazes of the guards. They didn't know what to expect from a young man with two swords on the back. But they knew one thing – if he attacked, they would most likely die.

Fear comes first. Hate, feeling of insult and avoidance will be the next step. It never changed, changes or will change. And Alan long adapted to the attitude of the crowd.

People who felt nothing or even slight gratitude and goodwill were far and few between.

Inns of Beauclair were something unusual to him. They sold wine and not hard drinks, while visitors never made a drunk ruckus, opting for a cultural session of mild drinking.

He entered one of them and found the absence of the person he was searching for.

Alan sighed. That was expected.

"Good day to you." - he sat in front of the innkeeper.

"Oh, another new face today. Don't cause trouble like the girl before." - the man was neutral in everything. He only scrutinized Alan with a gaze of a merchant. - "What would you like to drink?"

"What kind of trouble?"

"Here, in Beauclair, we never talk before drinking. Wine is a sacred nectar that you need to respect if you want to be welcomed in my place." - the plump man said seriously, but he never knew about Alan and his Vibe. His dirty little thoughts about earning more money never escaped from the witcher's observation. - "Let alone, I should narrate a thrilling story with a good... superb wine."

Alan sighed. What a sly old man that owner is.

When in Rome, do like the Romans do.

"Fine. Give me Chateau de Conrad Cabernet."

"Ah, you have good taste. It will be right up. A perfect choice for the pairing in food will be the grilled meat we just cooked."

"I don't ne..."

"Don't worry, you will like it. A bottle of Chateau de Conrad Cabernet and a plate of grilled beef it is then. You are a seasoned lover of wine, I see. For such a person, I will spare nothing to help out."

"A glass will be e..."

"Ah, the meat is already here, and the bottle is opened. One is enough, right? Right, right, one it is, don't glare at me that way. Better take a piece if meet and savour the wine first. Hm, by the look of your actions you do know how to taste wine. Good to find a young man of such quality."

"Fine, whatever you say, just tell me about the girl." - sighed Alan in defeat and marveled at the smell of the drink. It was pleasant even with his enhanced senses, but the alcohol ruined an overall bouquet a little bit, as it was always unpleasant.

Sometimes he wondered how Geralt can drink spirit or vodka and like it more than mild drinks.

That was a mystery.

"Oh, you see a man at the side. Yes, that one with the friends and in a sour mood. The case was like this..."

* * *

Ciri. Several hours earlier.

Ciri walked on the streets in mixed feelings. She was half upset and half adventurous.

Her separation with Alan made the mood a bit unusual. Those several days they were inseparable, and she got used to his presence, but without it Ciri felt... empty and wanted for him to come back faster. That only magnified when she remembered where he was going.

"Those stinky ladies-in-waiting of the duchess and that stinky duchess will do something. They will absolutely harm my Alan and lead him astray. No. I need to do something. Hmph, you just wait." - she mumbled under her breath, while periodically asking way to the inn they decided as a meeting place.

The other half felt freedom, but somehow Ciri knew that Alan never suppressed her in that regard. It was a strange sense of comfortable closeness they both shared.

With that conflict inside, a girl entered a well-lit hall.

"Oh, young lady, what would you like to drink."

"Juice."

"You are in Toussaint. Here we appreciate wine."

"Then wine." - easily agreed Ciri. She had some money that Alfonso left for the duo.

"Good, try this. It goes well with cheese."

Ciri took the bottle, paid for it, and walked to the table in the corner. From here she can observe everything. Wine was tasty, but she disliked the alcohol inside. Training in Alan's method enhanced her body and senses.

At first she didn't feel it, but after such a prolonged time it made a great contrast to the past.

She drank a bit and noticed a loud company coming in. They were young knights in shining armor with feathers and wings all around.

She disliked the guys right away.

"Clowns..." - Ciri snorted and gazed at the small window, while listening to gossips. Inns were a perfect place to gain information for a person with enhanced hearing like any witcher and now Ciri too.

But that rowdy company spoiled everything.

Suddenly, or perhaps it was a strike of fate, one of them noticed her and froze. His eyes became round and full of passion. Was it love at first sight? Who knows?

The man didn't waste time at all. As an upright knight, he knew what to do.

With loud steps like an elephant, he approached her.

"I can hear your loud steps from the other side of a street. What do you want?" - Ciri looked at the armor of a man and was wondering at his supernatural ability to walk in this.

The youth in golden armor froze for a second, straightened his back and went on one knee under the sudden whistles of the crowd around.

"The dame of my heart! I found you in the most unexpected place. I hereby propose a marriage to you, oh my love!" - the youth was red and agitated, yet spoke fluently.

Ciri looked at the round face with bags under his eyes and frowned.

"Oh, I know that it is sudden, but we are connected by destiny and bound to be together. I love you."

Ciri frowned deeper, because she heard something about their case and that loud young man who was easily a decade older than her ruined the investigation.

'That is our first case! You little...'

"I hereby make a vow! I will travel the world and kill defeat a hundred foes in your name. Whether man or beast, they all will fail to stop my love!" - roared the young man. People around clapped, not feeling the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Answer him, milady. If you are dissatisfied with Haspar, how about me?" - said another youth from their company, and that was a final straw.

She turned and stared at them angrily with her bright forest green eyes.

"I'm not interested in any of you. What is so great in being a knight? How many people have you saved? Have you defeated a manticore? A wyvern? Or a fiend? Have you fought with a crowd of drowners or caught a djinn? Knights, hmph!"

The mouths of people inside the inn twitched and Ciri angrily stood up.

* * *

"Can you imagine? A djinn she said! How can a boy catch a djinn?" - exclaimed owner in a low voice.

"So, what happened next?"

"Next? She walked out, but that poor love-struck lass out there tried to stop her. The girl is fire, I tell you. She is as fiery as she is beautiful! Well, he put an arm on her shoulder and ended up on the ground with a single move. What a kick it was! She was faster than wind! Well, while he was on the ground, she punched him a couple of times more. Oh, and she broke a bottle of fine wine during the process." - owner smirked, clearly loving the thrill. - "A rare occasion that a knight got handed by the dame of his heart. Harsh."

The plump owner with the wavy mustache liked gossiping.

Alan gave a glance at the knight, and they locked gazes. It was fine if he didn't have Vibe, but he had.

'My goodness. That is another level of stupidity.'

"Thank you for a good drink. Seems like she went out for quite a while. Do you know where the girl went?" - said Alan and stood up.

"No idea. But her figure bolted to the right after exiting."

"Thank you, owner. Wine and food was good." - Alan turned around and greeted a sight of a young lad standing straight near him.

"Wait right there. I am issuing a duel in the name of my lady! I vowed to defeat a hundred enemies in her name. Come out and face me, I have little time. Ninety-nine more are waiting for me defeat them. Will you run away like a coward or answer my call and be defeated by this family sword? Face me like a man!"

Alan looked at the young man and sighed inside.

"Face the dummy like a man first, retard." - answered Alan and walked to the exit of the inn.

Needless to say, he was stopped and surrounded on the streets.

"You insulted me! That can only be solved with blood!" - cried the young man like a wronged maiden, wore the beaver down and unsheathed the sword. - "I, Haspar of Kreschul demand a duel in the name of my honor."

Alan felt headache.

"Knights..." - he sighed.

"Where is your sword, my enemy? The virtues of the knights forbid from attacking an unarmed man!" - proclaimed the poor fellow.

"And virtues of a witcher said not to use swords against retards like you." - shrugged Alan.

Young man became red.

"Wait, Haspar, maybe we should... he is a witcher. You know..."

"I don't care. He will fall under my family sword. In the name of my tarnished honor and my dame!"

Alan took a glance at the poorly forged piece of iron in the hands of the young man and couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. That masterpiece can't be called a sword, more like an attempt to create one.

What happened next was nearly the replay of his encounter with Ciri. Alan was even less flashy and sent the knight on the ground with a single jab. Helmet didn't help at all. Haspar felt like a heavy sledgehammer struck his head.

"Where... where is he?"

"He went away about ten minutes ago." - said his friend. - "Haspar... he is a witcher, don't provoke him anymore."

"No... next time I will be prepared. I will not let go of my love and my vow."

Even his knight friends sighed at the sight.