Group of Refugees

Chapter 497

"Do you still recall what the dragon told us back in Kestrel Mountains?"

"Borch Three Jackdaws? Yes. He said we're a perfect match."

"That we're meant for each other." Yennefer rested her head against Geralt's chest, her raven-black hair tickling his neck. "But our relationship will never blossom. The one who created us didn't think it through. There's something missing between us. Something that can sustain our relationship. That is why we must part, lest we end up wounding each other."

Sadness welled within Geralt's heart. He wondered why that must be. They had faced many challenges, death and interlopers included, yet they would lose to fate. The relationship will never blossom, huh? Perhaps. We're blessed with long lives, but there will never be a good end to our story.

"Go to Cintra, Geralt. Do not relinquish your destiny. Bring the child back. The age of disdain is upon us, and danger hunts for her. She needs you. No one can break the Law of Surprise."

Geralt froze, and realization dawned upon him. Even though the relationship might not blossom, he still had his Unexpected Child with him.

"But for now, stay and enjoy the last glow of Belleteyn," Yennefer said, her voice dripping with honey, and she pressed her lips against the White Wolf. Then she ended it with a deep kiss.

The White Wolf found himself lost in her affection, but the sorceress seemed to forget to hold back. She bit his lip, and pain seared.

Dawn slowly broke through the horizon, dappled sunlight shining down upon the woods, waking up the harried witcher lying on a branch of an oak tree.

Geralt's heavy eyelids slowly snapped open, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes hiding underneath. The sweet, melancholic dream hit his head like a sledgehammer, making everything around him spin, but the pain on his lips quickly snapped him out of his stupor, and he swatted the creature away.

The critter squeaked loudly in protest and scurried down the tree. The witcher leapt down and touched his lips. Drops of blood decorated his fingertip, and a dry smile curled his lips. Perhaps I've been having it too easy lately. I can't believe a mouse got near enough to bite me. Auckes and Lambert would have a field day if they knew.

Geralt approached Roach, who was tied to a nearby tree. He patted his mount and basked in her breath, and he calmed down. "You should've warned me, old friend." He looked around the woods. Nothing but alder trees and short shrubs. Three little mounds decorated the distance. They were graves of the bandits Geralt killed the night before.

One month had gone by since he entered Sodden. He set off in Brugge and traveled west, passing through Trava and Ina on his way. The witcher scoured the center of Sodden, where mountains of corpses piled around, tainting the air with the stench of blood and rotting flesh. He ran into refugees, bandits, robbers, and even necrophages born among the corpses. But thanks to the brotherhood's supplies, the witcher got over the crises fairly easily.

It was a pity he found no news about Ciri. The people he asked either had no idea what he was talking about, or they demanded coin and food. Some even tried to kill him. It had been but a month, but the White Wolf found himself exhausted both in body and mind. For once, he was dreaming almost every day, but he could not stop. He must find Ciri, and this time, he would not let go of her again, no matter the reason. He must do it for himself and Yennefer.

The witcher peered at the boundless south, hiding behind the veil of the river's fog. This was Yaruga, the river that split the land into north and south. Riverdell stood on the other side of the river, while on the north stood a place called Mayena.

I wonder if the Law of Surprise is deep enough to lead me to Ciri. He took out a crown and tossed it into the air. It landed on heads, and a smile curled Geralt's lips, then he rode ahead. Roy said there's a druid circle in Mayena. Perhaps they know something. Perhaps the one related to me by blood is there as well. His pupils contracted, and his heart started to beat in nervousness and anticipation.

***

Roy had searched the blood-soaked land of Sodden for nearly a week. Now he found himself standing under a drizzle, staring at the woods ahead. There was a path set between the trees, and corpses were strewn everywhere.

Commotion came from the other side of the woods, and not too long after, a group of misfits trudged over, the muddy land squelching under their boots. There were about fifteen of them. Refugees. Surprisingly, this group was made up of mostly gaunt, shriveled up women and children. They had nothing but tattered clothes keeping them warm, and every last one of them had something in tow. They trudged ahead, shivering in the cold.

Two lads stood in the lead, presumably the leaders of this little group. They were equipped with nothing but rusted swords and worn down fur armor. Their bow and arrows were made of crude wood, and they looked around cautiously. A mule stood beside them, its back burdened with a mountain of cargo. The oversized saddle housed a big cauldron and a few steel crates.

The man with a scar on his face noticed the witcher standing quietly by the path, and he raised his hand. The group came to a stop. He then put a hand on his sword, while his other arm was akimbo. "Morning. And who might you be?" he shouted from afar. "Why are you guarding the exit?"

Roy put on what he thought was a nice smile. "I am Auckes, a mercenary. I wish to find someone in Sodden. Just came from Kalkanor."

The man stared at the witcher. He was lean, and the hilts jutting out of his back did not go unnoticed. The man wondered if the witcher was going to hurt them, but then he noticed a yawning dog lying beside the witcher, and his face softened. If he's really a bandit, he wouldn't have taken a pup in. They do nothing but waste our food.

"I'm Frik, and this is my brother, Bavi. These people are refugees from Willow Village. Women, children, and the elderly, as you can see. Said there were more of them, but the southerners caught them a week ago and killed most men. Did whatever they wanted with the ladies. My brother and I ran into them in these woods, so we're traveling together now."

"I admire your courage. You might run into the southerners or bandits again, you know, and these people can't even fight." Roy looked at the men and the refugees. "Monsters are born in wars. They're far more evil than the vultures flying overhead. Even if you're dead, they will not stop until they suck out the last of your bone marrow."

The refugees cringed, and the kids hid behind their mothers, though they peeked from their mothers' backs, staring at the handsome young man curiously. He had a special air about him, and there was something about his voice that soothed their minds. They found this man to be reliable and trustable. And the puppy circling around him looked so adorable they wanted to play with it.

The scar-faced man heaved a sigh. "That's how it is with wars, but you can't expect me to leave them alone. Yaruga's already far behind, so the southerners won't come after us. And you don't run into bandits or monsters everywhere. If we do, well, then that's Destiny then. If death wants us…" He looked at the rotting corpses around the trees. "It can take us."

Silence swooped over them. "Ah, sorry for that sad talk. Forget about it. So who are you looking for, Auckes?"

Roy adjusted his sunglasses. "A white-haired man and a girl with green eyes. They—"

"Never saw them, but take my advice and don't go any deeper into Sodden. You'll find nothing but blood, fire, and the dead. It'll take the alliance a month at least to clear the dangers on this path. Nilfgaard has retreated, but they have set up camp in the south. Who knows when they'll cross the river and mount another attack. Any man, woman, and child are running to the north, or at least they're planning to. I bet the people you're looking for are in the north too."

Roy nodded. He had the exact same idea. It had been a month since Geralt entered Sodden. He must've scoured the entirety of ground zero, but still there was no news from him. And there were barely any marks of battle on his way here. Roy wasn't certain if the grandmasters would show up, but they were not his priority. First, he must find Geralt and bring back Ciri. "So where are you taking these people?"

"We're going to the refugee camp in Mayena. They say a healer is giving their services to refugees for free. Some of the ladies are getting unwell, so we'll be staying there for a bit. And then we'll set off for Maribor or just settle in the north. Ah, you can come with us if you'd like. Course, if you don't mind us going slower, that is. You know how these people are."

Roy hesitated for a moment. He looked at the poor refugees, and he nodded.

***

The group of misfits pressed on, the ground squelching under their feet. Greenery and flowers grew along the path leading to the north, and the sky was still overcast, drizzle falling over the land. The air among the refugees was not lively at all. The women barely talked, and even the sight of bloated, rotting corpses failed to evoke any response from them.

Their journeys had exposed them to too much death, numbing them to it. The only thing that still kept their fires going were the children prattling around them. The witcher didn't take long to get to know the brothers.

Frik and Bavi were twins. Eighteen years old, short and stocky, and they looked alike. Their noses resembled beaks, and their hair was brown, unkempt, and smelled like they hadn't washed it in days. Their eyes were grey, the gaze in them sharp, and their mouths were gigantic. A thick layer of callus grew on their hands. They looked alike, but one of them had a scar on the left side of his face.

Before the war, they were hunters in Upper Sodden. On the day of the south's invasion, they were hunting in the woods, and they hid in a cave, escaping imminent death. Still, they witnessed the army trampling across the warzone, bringing down their homes. It was then they realized Upper Sodden had fallen. And so, the brothers left their childhood home, stole a boat, and crossed Yaruga to hide in Lower Sodden.

After the Battle of Sodden Hill came to an end, the brothers ran around and sniped Nilfgaardian soldiers that walked alone, avenging their home in their own way.

Roy thought they were stronger than most people. Nimble and had great stamina too. "People like you don't show up every day, especially in times of war," Roy said. Most people would kill their benefactors just to gain more supplies for themselves.

He then looked at the dirty, snotty kids behind him quietly. There was something about his gaze that could pierce through everyone, and the scrawny kids quickly stood up straight and put down the pup. They were having too much fun with it.

The pup howled and hobbled over to Roy. It then shivered, and the witcher tucked it into his hood.

Gryphon the Cat was woken up unceremoniously and tossed to the kids like it was a plaything, and the children wasted no time in getting it dirty.

"Ah, you flatter us." Bavi, the more talkative of the brothers, patted the mule's back and grinned toothily. His teeth were yellow, but his smile was genuine. "We never planned on taking these people with us. Grew up in a godforsaken area, see. Never even seen one woman in our lives. At first we ran into Yugni of Willow Village. Promise she'd marry Frik if we took her away from Sodden, and then we ran into her cousin, and then her cousin gathered even more relatives, then the group grew. All of them widows with their kids trying to survive. Our old man told us that men should protect women, so we had no choice but to see his order through."

Roy's lips twitched, and he looked at the brothers in a new light. They're risking their lives to marry a woman? "And are you sure she'll marry you?"

"Of course. She's a good woman. See for yourself. Fifth woman from where we're standing." Frik's eyes glowed with delight.

Roy checked out the woman he mentioned. She was blond, curvy, and beautiful, even though the beauty was hidden behind her lackluster clothes. She was holding an adorable baby in her arms, and the infant was crying.

Noticing Frik's look, Yugni smiled at him gently and nodded, dimples forming on her cheeks. She radiated the air of a good wife and mother.

"I've asked her. Her husband was a Sodden soldier, and he died in the first attack, so she's a widow now. I can make a family with her if I marry her. The kid's healthy. I bet he can get through this without a hitch and grow up fine," said Frik proudly. He was happy about being a father for the child, and there was even a spring in his step.

"Guess that's hunters for you. You have… different taste," Roy said, though with a bit of difficulty. "So what about you, Bavi? Anyone you like?"

"Yes." Bavi was making a wooden sculpture of a girl with a ponytail using his knife, and he looked around cautiously. "My family matched me up with the girl of another hunter when we were kids."

"And who's the lucky lady?"

"Maria Barring. Pity her father died not long after we were betrothed. Her new father abused her so much, she left for the north." Bavi looked solemn. "Once we leave Sodden, I'm going to stay around until Frik settles down, then I'm looking for Maria. This is the token she gave me when we were kids."

"Maria Barring? Are you sure that's her name?" Roy paused for a moment. I saw that archer back around Brokilon. It was on the same day he found the victims of Artifact Compression and provided Coral with the ammo she needed to threaten the queen of Kerack. Then she was paid a handsome sum of coins.

"I think you should look around Kerack and Brokilon," Roy half joked. "She's the daughter of a hunter. Perhaps she might eke out a living near the woods. But be careful. The dryads do not take to humans kindly."

"I had the same idea." Bavi nodded, clenching the wooden sculpture tightly.

***

The journey went on without too much trouble. Roy asked the refugees, but none had seen Geralt or Ciri. Still, he found himself becoming fast friends with the brothers. As the only men in the team, they split up all the heavy-duty work among themselves.

Frik was in charge of keeping the refugees calm and orderly. Every twelve hours, they would stop and find a dry place to set up camp. Then he would boil some water with the cauldron to keep the refugees warm. Bavi would look around them, checking for hazards. Sometimes he would run far, far away and gesticulate funnily to tell everyone that the coast was clear. It was thanks to his conscientious attitude and survival skills that the team managed to pull through a few crises safely. He would sometimes come back with some fruits, berries, and misshapen but tasty roots and split them among the children to cheer them up.

Roy had a task of his own. It had been more than a week since these people left their homes. They were scared, terrified, and had to live without a roof over their heads. Some of them were down with a cold, and some were afflicted by coughs. That included Yugni. If they were lucky, nothing big would come of these minor illnesses. But if they were unlucky, these illnesses could turn into pneumonia if left untreated. Treatment would be arduous at that point.

Roy would slip some herbs into the food to cure the refugees. He would also lead his pets into the woods or wilderness for a hunt. Every time they came back, there would always be game, and he would make stew for everyone.

Bavi and Frik were impressed. Most of the animals had been hunted by the other refugees, leaving barely anything for them. They tried hunting as well, but they gained almost nothing from it. Roy used his Witcher Senses to hunt, though he wouldn't tell anyone about that, of course.

***

Witchers were proponents of fair trade. Everything they did must come with a reward, but Roy kept telling himself he was just doing it because it was convenient. First we get to Mayena, and then I look for the circle. Perhaps Geralt will be there. Then we will rendezvous.

Every time he saw the brothers and their smiles, he wanted to help them. This was a cruel world, so he wanted to show kindness whenever possible.

***

The journey went smoothly. With Roy's help, the refugees' illnesses were slowly disappearing, and smiles returned to their faces. The corpses were slowly thinning out, and Roy's pets were already used to the children's petting.

Sodden was already far, far behind them. Everything was looking up, but on the fifth day, they ran into a situation that forced them to stop.