Assassins (Part 2)

Half way to the Anchor. Somewhere in the wilderness several days later.

"We got a high pay this time, heh." - laughed a Rizzi, reeking of booze. Yesterday he again got drunk. His swollen face with a nose broken in several places saw a better morning one day.

That day was a long, long time ago. But it surely was.

"Yeah... and the deal is to kill some lad, ye. I say, fuck him up faster, take the money and go to Novigrad." - commented Flavius.

"Two hundred orens. Fuck, if every job is like that, the Toussaint vineyard would'da be mine, yeah, bro? Tch, bro, ya the brain alright. Still thinking ya thinks, heh."

"It is thinking thoughts, Lodovico." - said Toublanc.

"Tch, fine, what'ta ya say. Isn't it an easy job? Go, kill the brat, take the money..." - the man spat on the ground from the horse. - "Damn this weather. Shits going on. I tell ya. Day, but dark like in trolls arse."

"Downpour is coming. The air is too humid. First spring rain is cold, we need to find shelter." - Toublanc turned around on the horse and told the three brothers. Judging by sluggish reactions, they didn't understand half of what was said.

"Go there." - he pulled the reins to the right. He was here a couple of times and knew a thing or two about local landscape. Some merchants on the passing organized a resting point here. It wasn't much, but still has enough space to hide from the rain or the time being.

A bird chirped and landed on the tree branch.

Toublanc looked at it with suspicion.

"It is already the third time a bird did this." - he said, and his three brothers laughed uproariously.

"Hey, I say, ya think your thinks too much."

"You won't be laughing so much if me find a leshen here, Rizzi. Just get over your hangover already. We are catching up to the target."

"Leshen, smeshen... have ya even seen one? I haven't. Fairy tales that I tell ya, fairy tales. It's all fucking elves and that... scotils or wha they called?"

"Scoia'Taels, Rizzi. And leshens are not myths, they exist. Believe me, you won't like to have a close meeting with the one in the middle of the forest."

Rizzi dizzily burped another cloud of foul air, that even fresh air and starting rain can't remove. He was still drunk. And rather heavily at that.

"Whatevar ya say, bro, ya the smart ass here." - shrugged Rizzi clearly caring about his nose more. He found something new inside and was keen to get rid of it as soon as possible.

"Get yourself together, Rizzi!" - admonished him Toublanc.

"Wha ya so angry? I drank a bit and fucked a bit, wha so angry?"

"It is not about you, three idiots. It is about your fucking attitude."

"Atitude? Wha that?" - asked bulky and not drunk Flavius. He was eager to learn more in this life and broaden his horizons.

"Two hundred orens, full weight gold orens for a fucking kid? And from a sorcerer at that! This job stinks. I don't know, but it stinks like a Novigrad sewer after the winter period. Stinks from a mile away."

"Tch, ya think too much thinks, bro! Isn't it just a kid? Wha afraid?"

They drove from the main road, passed the slanted path and entered a meadow. The bird was always nearby, chirping without stop.

"Fuck, it's getting on my nerves." - Toublanc said, but shifted his attention to the meadow that appeared in front of them. - "That's it. Unmount."

"Hey, bro, wha that kiddo there?"

They froze.

Looked at the young man sitting under the improvised shelter in meditation with a dangerously looking sword on his knees and froze. A wolf's head from metal dawdled on his neck, the same head adorned sword's hilt.

"Err... bro... he looks like our target, no?" - asked Lodovico.

"Fuck, no shit."

The bird moved atop their heads several times and landed on the shoulder of a young man, chirped, and flew away.

Bad feeling that Toublanc felt became more pronounced.

"I knew it stunk. Ordinary kid? With a fucking witcher medallion? Ordinary my grandma's ass! That lad with two swords is a goddamn young witcher, for fuck's sake!" - Toublanc said in a hissed voice

He suddenly not only had thought two hundred is a high price, but on the contrary, too low. What is more, he had a gut feeling that this job is not something they can complete.

No, on the contrary, they fucked up big time. There is always a risk. When you take a headhunter job, you should be prepared to be hunted in return. Toublanc was cautious and had great intuition. As the only brother who studied in Temple school, he was quite well read and educated.

He was smart, but not that smart.

Young man sighed and opened his eyes, gazing at the newcomers. His purple eyes exuded pressure. He killed before. Not once or twice. He was not some young lad with milk on the lips.

"Fuck." - cursed Toublanc, taking a step back while gripping his sword.

The other three spread out. Four became a pair of doubles.

The youth took a step, walking out under the pouring rain.

The first spring rain. Cold, yet novel. Long awaited change in the world of nature.

"So, we are doing it?" - asked the youth suddenly. His voice was calm, but it is that calmness that made Michele brothers nervous. - "I can give you five seconds. Tell me who hired you, then turn around and leave. Leave and pretend you never saw me. Go back to your employer and give him back what he paid you."

"Ya think its this easy, lad?" - snorted Rizzi. He wasn't able to see the threat.

Toublanc was seriously considering it. He really wanted to leave.

"We might not live only once, but you never know where you end up after dying. Don't waste your lives. My mood is bad." - he looked at the sky.

"But not that bad." - he again looked at the one who seemed the most thoughtful one.

Just as Toublanc was ready to open his mouth, he saw it. Lodovico stepped forward. He entered the attacking range and made a false thrust.

They attacked in clear formation. The real strike to kill will come directly after the fake one. And it did. Yet they never knew how fast Alan really is. He slanted his body to the side, shifted the sword behind, and waved it.

Ting!

"Fuck! I knew it!" - cursed Toublanc, but didn't have time to react. Sword blinked with dim light and he lost the feeling of his arm. He didn't even feel pain, witcher swords will inflict it after the cut was done.

He looked silly at the ground and saw his arm cut by the shoulder lying there, painting rainwater in red. Meanwhile, young witcher didn't stop. He was like a surreal image of a ghost, coming to existence only to disappear again.

"Damn, ya son of a bitch! Ya... gurl." - the man lost his head in one maneuver, Alan was already behind the other one.

"Ya killed Rizzi! Ya killed him, fucker, aaaah." - two lightning fast strikes, one cut in half the sword, another a man. Viscous blood made a pool under the body. Alan shifted to the side.

He avoided intestines. One can get entangled in them during the fight.

Toublanc was lying on the ground losing blood without strength to do anything. He only felt the coldness of the spring rain, when he saw something he thought is a hallucination.

The last brother of his was dragged away into the forest by a pack of wolves.

'Fuck... how did we get in that mess...'

Alan sheathed his sword and sighed. They were warriors. But normal humans after all.

Not fast enough, not skillful enough, not strong enough.

And surely not lucky enough.

"Who sent you here? You should know that he just signed you a death sentence. Do you now know who I am?"

"U-Uidewen... I... heard."

"Who? Who sent you? Answer me!" - Alan stepped on the shoulder with force, stopping the bleeding. The man was silent. - "Do you want to die without doing anything? I killed you all. But he did too! He misinformed you, right, Toublanc? I will find him eventually, anyway. But you can give me an answer!"

"I... we were hired by a man from Gors Velen. He... didn't tell his name..."

"Describe him."

"Typical bookworm... well read... middle aged... black hair..."

"More. That is half of the population of the world!"

"Name... Viscar... he is a servant... he just gave money..."

Alan started to lose his temper. If he is just a servant then why that dying idiot wasted time talking about him?

"He... we talked... with the... employer... megascope... didn't see..." - he shivered a bit, arched his body for the last time, and went limp on the ground.

'So, Viscar, servant of a mage who has a megascope in Gors Velen. Not much. Who is the mage? Vilgefortz? It's not like him to be caught so easily. No, it should be someone else. The one Vilgefortz is working with for the upcoming Thanedd Coupe. What a pain. So all roads lead to Gors Velen, eventually.'

Alan took a sizeable pouch from the body of the gang leader.

"Tch, why am I so cheap? He hurt my pride a bit." - said Alan, while the pouch disappeared from his palm.

He hopped on Sparky and rode away, cursing at the rain silently.