Toussaint (Part 5)

Beauclair.

City of wine, unending parties, cultural chaos and knighthood. Here one can find pairs of lovers making out in broad daylight. Painters are drawing their creations of unconventional art. One step from a street and a visitor may get lost in the green lands of gardens. Or end up with a knife in the gut lying in the dirt of poor streets.

It all depends on perspective and the turn you take.

City of tradition, history and breathtaking beauty of southern lands with a mild climate.

City that Alan came to dislike very first moment for its fragile peace that reeked of hypocrisy.

"Her Highness, the Duchess, ordered me to invite you on a private audience and now I sincerely ask Your Grace to be... proper." - said an old man in bright clothes with lots of unnecessary elements, that make a man look like not a man at all.

"Am I improper?" - asked a young man clad in black armor that followed the structure of his muscles. His coattails swayed under the southern winds while he moved.

"With all due respect, Your Grace looks like someone prepared for the battle, rather than an audience with the most noble lady of the state." - bowed the man and said in an even, yet polite tone.

"You are very observant, monsieur Pisakar." - said Alan in return, while following the old seneschal through the numerous turns, stairs and corridors. - "How much longer will it take?"

"We are halfway there, Your Grace. I absolutely must advise your grace to remain patient and while walking enjoy the historical sight of the Palace. It was built centuries ago and full of elegant spirit and romantic undertone of those times." - Pisakar waved his hand at the view on the rich part of the city from the terrace they traversed now.

"Yeah. I wonder, that spirit appeared before or after invaders slaughtered the original creators?"

"Your Grace must be jesting." - smiled old man politely in return. Nether his mood or his tone changed even a bit. - "I believe we brought something new here, a slight note of freshness and change, that resulted in booming development of culture."

"Whatever you say." - shrugged Alan.

"Oh, our worshipful duchess is a person of highest status and authority. Be mindful with what you say and how you speak. Your... attire..." - seneschal looked at Alan up and down, wrinkled his nose and continued with squinted eyes. The eyes that told stories about his disregard of poor witcher and his tasteless clothes. - "... might be better for so glorious occasion. After all, you will be presented before the regal eyes of Her Highness herself, not anyone else. Meeting her is an honor in life and a grace of destiny."

"Yeah, yeah. One thing I know for sure, you are very good." - Alan glanced at the old man, who spoke with a flame of passion and didn't add offensive words about the specific area he was good at kissing.

"Naturally, whether it is my lineage or my training, my family members served as a royal seneschals for generations..."

Alan stopped listening to the man, as he was telling stories about how his great-great-grandfather fought a boar in the butchery. Quite a story about a pig that was delivered to the palace alive and an entire kitchen that heroically tried to slaughter it for the fest.

Not without injuries, some of them severe.

"We are here." - said the seneschal after another ten minutes of walking, while stopping before a big ark with knights all around.

Alan took a glance at them and to his surprise noticed a stature of seasoned warriors with extensive training. They were vigilant and not careless in the slightest, observing his every move in return.

"Before Your Grace goes in, I must absolutely stress the necessity of upholding the propriety of behavior and strict rules of etiquette. By no means Your Grace shall show disrespect and address Her Highness by her name. You shall speak clearly, with obvious good will and explicit politeness."

"And I thought Triss can nag. Pisakar, you are on another level alright." - said Alan with obvious boredom. As usual, seneschal was a professional of his craft and disregarded his abrasive remark.

"Your Grace, please follow by this road in the gardens. I shall take my leave from here and can't be graced by your undoubtedly pleasant company any longer." - seneschal bowed and left for his duties.

"Pleasant... yeah, right? Ah, I should have left this audience to Ciri." - grumbled Alan while walking under constant surveillance from the knights all around. - "But then again, won't she cause too much trouble with her temper here? Forget it, hope she won't get into a fight in the city."

He entered the terrace with a view on the entire multi-leveled royal gardens and a lake in the center.

The sight can be considered breathtaking, but only after the mountain pass and Kaer Morhen.

"Alan Violergos, the witcher!" - shouted herald at the top of his voice. One must admit, the man was loud like hell. He trained much to achieve such level of strength.

Alan stepped in and saw a woman in her thirties with a straight back, piercing eyes and beautiful appearance. She stood there unmoving like a statue with several ladies-in-waiting by her side. Each was no less attractive in their own way.

"We greet you in our lands, witcher." - said Anna Henrietta. Her voice was a unique mixture of soft notes and demanding tone. - "We are pleased that you answered the call and ready to adhere the plight of our people and lands, but we must ask, aren't you too young?"

"Your Highness, my presence here is the evidence of my professionalism." - said Alan. Somehow, he wasn't that impressed with the duchess, but found her quite likable. More so than many people around here.

"Explain."

"Your Highness, I have finished training in Kaer Morhen, the witcher fortress of the Wolf School several years ago and survived until now."

"We never saw a witcher before, but We know about their unique trait. Tell us, why do your eyes differ from the tales We heard?"

"Merely in color, Your Highness." - answered Alan, and his pupils became narrow to show clear vertical slit.

"We understand." - Anna Henrietta made a step forward. - "We want to have a walk in the gardens. Accompany me, witcher." - her change of address to herself meant a lot. So much that some ladies-in-waiting gasped.

She walked down the road with a straight back.

"So, how do you like my lands?" - she moved her hand slowly with regal grace as if caressing every hill and forest from the high altitude they were on.

"Peaceful, cultural." - said Alan after some thought. - "I've been to many northern lands and must say that people here are more relaxed and satisfied with life and their own standing. Monsters and bandits are not that abundant. It is a good place to live."

"I belive, you travelled a lot. Tell me, is the war in the north as dreadful as I heard."

"It is."

"And what about your knights? Don't they save people and help the victims? Are there many stories about heroes of war?"

Alan smiled wryly as his mouth twitched with annoyance about the said bunch.

"Your Highness, knights in the lands I've been too can't be considered the same as the ones here in Toussaint."

"I see." - she only said as if his reply complied with her speculations. - "You are younger than me, yet I feel like I'm talking to an old man. I have several knights like that under my command. But let us talk about business and your job." - she said. Her tone and address to herself changed again. - "Our people are in fear and suffering from the most dreadful fate. We know that our subject told you about the case, but We must ask the thoughts of the professional. We want to know what do you think of it."

"Your Highness, I'm yet to inspect it, but I think it might be a curse. A very powerful one."

"We want to know your further actions when you take the job." - she asked, turning her head slightly.

"Find the first victim and see why it happened. Curses can't appear just from some hate or rude words, they require ferocious emotions in play and power. In this case, a curse that can influence an entire province must have tremendous magical power behind it."

"We want you to lift it and solve our concerns." - said Anna Henrietta with the strict voice of a ruler.

Alan cringed. Her demand, and it was a direct demand, not a plight for help or a simple request, meant that if Ala took the job, he should see it to the end. Otherwise it will be regarded as a lie to the crown and the punishment for that is straightforward like any other concerning the royalty of the world.

Death.

If he says yes now, there will be no turning back. Naturally no one can force him to stay if he wants to escape, but becoming a fugitive in Toussaint is a bad idea. After all the land is not that bad and Anna Henrietta not the worst ruler too.

But can he just walk away? He can't. He is a witcher and accepted the fate of one long ago. He found peace in that line of work and travels, in freedom and challenges that profession gave him. Also, he was grateful for the people he got to know through it.

So he will uphold the witcher conduct to the end.

It was his own choice in life.

And so it will be the one in death too, if one comes.

"Your Highness, I will do my best. But I must warn Your Highness about the difficulty of the task."

"We will pay you handsomely." - the duchess said in return.

"Your Highness, I mean it differently. Curses are not easy things to remove. Some of them are solved with simple logic, but some are very hard to deal with. I merely ask for time to find the reason for it and help from all subjects of Your Highness."

"You... ask before doing anything?" - Anna Henrietta turned to him and directed an annoyed gaze at the witcher.

"I can only ask." - simply answered Alan, looking straight in her eyes. The ladies-in-waiting gasped again and talked in barely audible voices.

The duchess raised her hand, and silence descended.

"Very well." - she said after a pause. Somehow, Alan reminded her of one person who never was afraid of her and always accompanied her in her plays and mischief. Sometimes they got rather cruel. She sighed, and that caused surprised glances from all sides. - "Pisakar."

The seneschal appeared like a ghost by her side. Alan was impressed. That was like his teleportation, no less! The man was a talent to behold.

"Here to hear your wishes, Your Highness." - he bowed slightly lower than necessary by the ceremonial rules, showing respect on the personal level. Or it was all within his calculations.

Alan snorted. The man wasn't as passionate and loyal as he portrayed himself to be. He was rather greedy and calculative.

"Heed my words. Grant the witcher a Seal of Royal Messenger. From now on he will represent Our voice and will while investigating the case." - she said and again the people around gasped. This time their gazes locked on Alan.

The latter tried hard not to cringe at that display of fakeness.

'I really want to get out of here now. Their thoughts are so idiotic. I need Ciri.'

"Witcher. Don't betray Our trust. We will summon you later. Now you can leave." - said the duchess.

Alan received a badge with a royal crest and excused himself. Only outside the palace on the streets, he breathed in relief.

'Now, Ciri. She should have asked around about the curse while I was wasting my time. Let's hope that she is not in some trouble.'