Chapter 37

I had to say, river travel was somehow more boring than sea travel. Maybe it was how it was slower in comparison to the ocean and that it had a psychological effect? Point was, the trip was pretty dull despite there being stuff all around us.

Oh sure it was pretty enough and relaxing I suppose, passing by countryside and tons of villages set up near the river, but still kinda meh all things told.

We were on a long wooden flatboat, about fifteen meters long and eight wide. Both prow and stern were slightly pointed, but it was clearly not built for speed. The crew of about twenty people kept it going; ten would push on poles, five to each side. Starting at the front, they would plant their pole firmly on the river bottom and walk from the front all the way to the back, where they would take out their poles and start walking back up to the prow. They kept four-hour shifts, switching crews for a rest every four hours. The captain and a few 'officers', such as they were, helped keep everything coordinated, and put their time in on pole-pushing as well. Ivar, Dogmeat, the horses, and I were up towards the front, where we had a good view of the river ahead of us. Ivar had thankfully possessed the foresight to purchase a couple of pillows for us to use to cushion our heads for when we slept on the hard wooden floor.

Pulling out of Oxenfurt, I was a bit surprised when we came up near the bank; the mystery was quickly solved when the boat was tied to a team of horses, who helped pull the boat upstream for the first twenty miles or so before the bank became too choked with trees for them to work. That was the first day; after that, our progress slowed by a good fifty percent. It helped that when we would approach riverside towns, there was almost always a teamster and either horses, mules, or oxen to help the polemen, for which they were all very grateful. Whenever there was a strong wind going in our general direction they would pull open a small sail on a central mast to help push us along and rest for a bit before the wind shifted.

Of course, since we weren't the crew we spent most of the time watching this happen and passing time in other ways.

Much more interesting were the important roles the river and the regions it flowed through played for most of the Northern Kingdoms, acting as breadbasket region, major trade route and natural border for the four largest kingdoms in this part of the world. There have been countless skirmishes and wars fought over who controlled what side of this mighty river and one was currently happening even now. That was none of my business though for the most part so I tried to just focus on the history of it since I always did kinda like thinking about how geography is a major impact on how countries and societies develop.

An example being that a few days ago we had stopped by La Valette Castle where it sat on the point where the Ismena flowed into the Pontar. The citadel was certainly impressive looking from what I saw from the docks when the barge was unloading cargo and loading up others. The way its thick stone walls encircled the whole city, that was pretty large itself if not to the scale of Novigrad, or even Oxenfurt, making it seem like an unbreakable shell. Considering its neariness to White Bridge, a trading town that connected both sides of the Pontar in Temeria, it's control over a good part of the country and its defenses it makes sense that Foltest needed a strong army to claim it and the risk of rebellion it could serve if he didn't strike quickly.

It was amazing to think how just one location like the La Valettes' ancestral home could make or break a whole country almost on its own.

Of course when I wasn't going over history, geography, geopolitics, and other subjects that my time in Oxenfurt had really opened my eyes too I was playing with/training Dogmeat as she grew bigger everyday, mixing up experimental potions and other concoctions, meditating/planning for future events, doing some light exercises to keep my body limber, and of course hanging out with Ivar. I wasn't the most social in general so didn't go out of my way to talk with the crew and quite frankly I think I unnerved most of them, so Ivar it was!

For all that I gave him a hard time I did really appreciate and enjoy the monster crazy scholar's companionship in a way I was honestly surprised I would, or maybe I just attached myself to him due to Ivar sticking close long enough I grew to like his presence. The point was having fun fishing off the side of the river barge as it slowly made its way up river, Ivar having reminded me how and reawakening lessons I got that I hadn't used since I was a kid.

Sure making use of a fishing rod with no reel was kinda weird, but still it was relaxing just sitting there waiting for whatever poor fish to take a bite.

"Not so sunny as to risk sunburn, not too cloudy as to seem gloomy, not too hot nor cold, no poor weather on the horizon, the river is flowing quite calmly and the world around us seems at peace. Fine time to yank out poor unsuspecting prey from the deep by hooking it in the mouth so we can gut, sink, and finally cook over a fire so that we may eat them with a side of bread." Ivar hummed to himself in satisfaction as he sat on the deck with his fishing rod in hand.

"You ever hear yourself talk sometimes?" I asked with a raised eyebrow as I sat next to him and Dogmeat chewed on a pork bone between us.

"All the time! Hearing myself talk is quite fun!" Ivar said with no shame.

"I'm not surprised. I'm more surprised that a merchant's son like you knows how to fish at all. Weren't all your meals served on fine silver or something growing up?" I asked jokingly.

"Bronze or brass was more likely, my mother liked the look more." Ivar said matter of factly. "However, if one plans to go off into the wild to track monsters even scholars need to know how to live off land a little, or at least know which wild fruits and mushrooms won't kill us if we eat them. I was taught how to fish by the fishermen my family did business with when I was old enough and my father wanted me to learn the family business more. I never had a mind for numbers and profit margins, more the people really, so when I should have been haggling I was trading stories and knowledge. In fact, that is how I learned how to noodle and I consider myself quite the avid noodler." Ivar said with pride.

"You learned how to what?" I asked in a great deal of confusion.

"Noodle. It is the practice of fishing with one's bare hands. You see, there are a great deal of freshwater fish that like to find nice comfortable places along a river to rest, usually in small little underwater mud caves or underneath debris such as masses of driftwood. Rather than catching them with a fishing rod or spear a noodler will reach inside to grab onto the fish itself and pull it out of the water, it is considered a rather charming skill by those that live in the countryside. I once knew a master noodler who could find and fish out fish that were nearly 100 pounds in weight! I have not achieved as such, only noodling a much more modest few dozen pounds at most." Ivar explained.

Wait, isn't that the thing that people back home in the southern states to catch catfish? Huh, I guess some cultural things can develop on their own without the influence of another. However…

"That's pretty interesting, but there are more than big fish in lots of bodies of water in the world." I pointed out.

At my words Ivar got a sad look to his eyes and sighed, his rod dropping a little in his hands.

"Indeed, that old master lost his life one day because he mistook what he thought was a fish's lair into one a drowner was resting in. From what I heard there were only a few pieces of him recovered for burial. His whole village mourned him and even I for I had learned so much from him, not just about noodling but life in general and how important it was to live it and not just survive it. Those of high standing and birth rarely have to work much in their lives but those of more humble origins work hard all their lives and can find happiness even then. However, many live outside of the safety of high walls and it is not uncommon for one man to know of another who had lost their life in some way to a monster. I suppose that is one reason I wanted to study them, in the hopes my knowledge could be passed on to others to avoid tragedies such as that and so that people could focus more on living than just surviving." Ivar said with conviction in his tone, far indeed from his usual excitable nature over monsters and other things, but a man who had a dream he planned to see done.

Whatever I was about to say was interrupted by Ivar's line going taut and the man himself almost losing his rod before he reaffirmed his grip on it and pulled back hard. I watch as he excitedly gets to his feet and works the rod hard to reel in his catch.

"By the gods that was a hard pull! Be prepared Markus, I might need your strong arm to slay this mighty beast when I bring it out from the depths!" Ivar proclaimed as I stood up and grabbed a nearby wooden club.

One of the boatmen joked, "Better hope there's enough to share with all of us! I'm tired of jerky and hardtack!" His crewmates laughed with him.

Ivar said nothing else as he focused on reeling in his catch, pulling back hard one moment before letting out some slack and doing it again. The line was playing oddly - all of the weight and momentum was pulling down, not back and forth like a fish normally does. Did Ivar catch a stick?

Before I could think about it much more I saw the vague outline of something coming to the surface that at first glance looked like a rock, but when it broke the surface and crawled up on the boat with a line in its mouth I realized it was neither a rock nor a stick.

It was a goddamned crab the size of a freaking dog!

I heard Ivar and the surrounding crewmembers yelp in shock while I did the most sensible thing I could. I beat the ever-living shit out of it!

Club in hand I just started wailing away on the thing until I heard its shell crack and it stopped moving. I wasn't afraid of crabs, I just didn't expect a huge one to come out of the water okay!

The crab dead, the captain let out a loud whoop. "Whoo-wee, boys! Looks like mudcrab's on the menu tonight!" At his declaration the cheers were even louder as people came over to inspect Ivar's catch and pat him on the back, even giving me some wary congratulations for killing it.

"I was certainly not expecting that. Though I suppose it was better than a drowner or some other river beast. I knew mudcrabs like burying themselves along the shoreline but I suppose they must do something similar on the riverbed or at least hunt along it." Ivar said as he worked to remove his hook from the crab's mouth and even expect it's face.

"Mudcrab?" I asked, a little shocked. What the hell was a Elder Scrolls animal doing here?! It'd be just my luck if the Conjunction brought a few things from other realities I knew about since the multiverse was involved.

"Indeed, a terrible pest for those that live and work along the Pontar and other rivers. They destroy nets and you can easily lose a foot when the rock you think you are walking next to suddenly sprouts claws. Thankfully the larger ones are quite rare, though I hear they can threaten a village on their lonesome. On the bright side their meat is a delicacy!" Ivar said with his usual enthusiasm.

"Oy, Mister Witcher!" one of the polemen yelled at me. I turned to see him pointing at my own forgotten line and how it was slowly being pulled off the boat. I dropped my club and lunged for it, pulling as soon as my hands were around it.

The fight for my catch was much less dramatic and actually felt like a fish, though made a little harder with not having a reel handy. Eventually I did manage to pull out a fish which I was sure was a salmon to the humble if still impressed noises of those crewmembers watching. I'd say it weighed about 15 pounds all told, good eating weight for my Witcher metabolism at least.

"I'd say we shall be eating well tonight! Now, we just have to gut and clean these both. Oh, the mudcrab chitin might fetch a good price when next we make port and mayhaps its guts could prove useful for your own alchemy." Ivar said and I could only nod.

I was never a big crab eater back home, but I was willing to try this.

---

I munched on a roasted salmon fillet while Ivar sucked the meat from one of the crab legs. Well, I say 'leg'; blasted thing was almost as wide as the hilt of my sword! It had taken the crew almost four hours to boil the crab in a massive kettle that apparently was kept for that precise purpose - well, that and boiling water sufficient to keep twenty hard-working men hydrated for an entire day. Ivar had no problem sharing his spoils and it had earned him the friendship of seemingly the entire crew in the process.

Dogmeat was thoroughly enjoying her meal. The salmon we had caught was a spawning female, and had been filled with eggs. Rather than see them go to waste, one of the crewmen had toasted them in strips on a skillet and given her a couple. The man in question was slurping them down like they were going out of style.

"Heard noblemen eat these raw for lots of coin. Never did get why."

Ivar raised a finger. "Actually, they prefer sturgeon eggs. Black, salty things. Never understood the appeal myself - salmon eggs taste a lot better, in my enlightened opinion."

"Proves that nobles wouldn't know good food if it smacked them in the arse!" the man said with a laugh that the crew joined in on.

Ivar chuckled. "You'd better believe it! My father once attended a banquet at the home of a wealthy merchant who served everything with black pepper." Ivar said in disgust. "I don't mind a bit of spice, but putting it both in and on literally everything, coating it so thick you can't even see the food underneath just to prove you can, was an insult to good taste. I felt bad for the cook who was ordered to do so."

"Rich people like showing off their riches to other rich folk. Basically their own form of dick measuring, since they don't have that much of a dick to please their women with in the first place." I told a dirty joke myself that was also met with much laughter and the slightly drunk crewmembers thumping me on the back in agreement.

Ivar gave me an aside glance. "Be as it may - still, what kind of insecure moron puts pepper in the wine? My father will put up with a lot of nonsense, but that was the final straw for him." Ivar said with a look that was part endearing and part sad, for obvious reasons. He would know about last straws considering he was basically disowned for how he chooses to love others.

"Well, I'll have another story to tell about noble stupidity when we reach Rinde by the morrow." the captain said at the other end of the table.

I paused in my swing of cider as I processed that familiar name. That's right! That was the name of the town mentioned in the very first Witcher short story!

The town in which Geralt and Yennifer met for the first time and the former had his wish granted to always have his fate connected to her by a djinn.

My eyes widened in belated horror. Hadn't Geralt found that djinn by fishing in this very river? I shuddered. We were lucky to have only found a mudcrab! Granted, Ivar would have been pretty thrilled to have the chance to examine a djinn, but I wanted to avoid pissing off an angry elemental spirit with the power to alter reality on a minor level if I could avoid it.

On the plus side there was no real reason to visit town as far as I was aware and unlike Blaviken there was no underlying hatred towards Witchers, no more than most places at least. Though I am sure if I told Ivar the story he would try his hardest to at least recover the remains of the djinn's old prison if not find another one on the highly rare chance more than one was in the area… I'd best keep it to myself so as not to tempt Destiny, the vindictive bitch.

So the night on the barge passed away with good food, friends, and even some laughs. I decided to make the most use of it during the trip since I knew moments like these should be treasured.

After all, various storms were still to come.

---

*Beep. Beep. Beep.*

"What the fuck?" I asked myself as I woke up on the deck, the weird beeping sound still playing in my head from a dream I couldn't recall now that I was awake.

I really hope that wasn't ominous foreshadowing for something else entirely.