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“Nymphs and the Lady of the Lake appear often in folklore, and they are amicable to witchers, but I don’t understand.” Letho looked at Roy curiously. “Why’d she choose a fledgling witcher like you to be her knight? So what should I call you now? Roy of the Lake of Vizima?”

“You mean like Geralt of Rivia, Letho of Gulet?” Roy thought about it and shook his head. “Just call my name.” He wasn’t obsessed with his title anyway.

Letho nodded, and he stared at Roy. “You attract women easily. You’re still young, but you’re already entangled with a few now.”

“Entangled?” Roy shook his head. “She’s just my employer.”

“Is that so? Good. Women can be really troublesome. If you get entangled, you’ll never be at peace for as long as you live,” Letho commented, as if speaking from experience. Before Roy could say anything, Letho pulled the crimson blade out of its sheath and ran his finger through the blade. Then he swung it around. “Is this the silver sword she gave you? Doesn’t feel better than the sword the gnomes made. This looks like something you can find in the marketplace.”

“Only those who are acknowledged by the Lady of the Lake can use this sword to its full extent. Regrettably, you’re not on that list.”

Letho sheathed the sword, though he looked a bit crestfallen. The boy has Gwyhyr and Aerondight. When can I have my own weapon?

I’ll find the school’s blueprints and make the best gear for the Viper’s witchers. Roy looked at the spatial ring Letho was wearing on his left pinky. “Letho, are you sure you want to join this battle? You don’t have to come with me to Black Tern Island. I can handle this my—”

“I am not doing this for you, boy.” Letho caressed the ring, and satisfaction flashed within his eyes. “I’ve always wanted something like this, and thanks to you, now I have one.”

Roy turned around and sighed, then he asked, “Does it have a lot of garbage in there?”

“I will tell you once we get rid of Dagon’s projection.”

“Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

***

Princess Adda and her soldiers came to welcome Roy and Letho, but they were disappointed to see that they did not have the quarry with them. “Did you fail? Is the traitor that powerful?”

“He is no traitor.” The witchers asked Adda to come with them to somewhere private. She went with them to a quiet corner, and they told her about the Lady of the Lake. Of course, they had the goddess’ permission, though they omitted that Roy was knighted and had Aerondight.

“The Lady of the Lake?” The news came as a shock for Adda. She envied the witcher for encountering such a legendary creature, though she also doubted their story. The story about the Lady of the Lake had existed in Vizima for many years. Those who live there would have inevitably heard about it. “Not long after I regained my body, the teachers in the palace told me about the Lady of the Lake. She is the embodiment of beauty and freedom, and she is the real ruler of Lake Vizima. Decades ago, some inhabitants claimed to have seen her, but we have heard nothing about her lately.

“I thought she is nothing but a figure in the stories those bards made up.” Adda muttered under her breath. “I never would have thought that she was real.” She said, “Roy, if the legends are true, the Lady of the Lake would only summon incredibly virtuous knights. Why did she guide the two of you there?”

Roy knew she had her doubts, and he answered, “Your Highness, I have no reason to deceive you. The Lady of the Lake shares our goal. She wishes to eradicate the evil presence on Black Tern Island, and witchers are perfect for the job.”

Adda took a while to process that, and once she did, her eyes were filled with longing. “I envy your luck, Roy. Do tell me more about the goddess. How beautiful is she?” Mortals were always respectful but curious about gods and deities, and not even royalty was immune to that.

“No words can describe her beauty.” Roy looked up at the sky and recalled the Lady of the Lake’s looks. She was innocent but seductive at the same time. So different from all the other women I have met.

“Is it true that the Lady of the Lake is immortal? Does she never get sick? Does she really live forever?”

“Those aren’t questions we mortals have the right to know the answers to.”

“Roy, that is just…” Adda wasn’t satisfied by Roy’s answers. She bit her lip and requested, “Can you lead me to her then? I wish to see her.”

“My apologies. The Lady of the Lake will not show herself to just anyone.” He lied, “I possess no means to contact her. All I can do is wait for her to summon me.”

“I am the princess of Temeria, Adda the White. Am I not worthy enough to have an audience?”

Roy refused her request. “An audience with her is unrelated to status or position. If she wishes to see you, then you shall be granted an audience.” He then kept on using the Lady of the Lake’s name to persuade Adda to back off. “And she has told me of her will. Letho and I shall finish the quest and vanquish the monster in the lake. Stand back and let us do our job, or the tragedy on the island will happen once more.”

“No,” Adda adamantly refused. “The expedition is halfway done. More than twenty soldiers have given up their lives in this quest, and Jacques is still out there. He might be in grave danger. I will not give up just like this.”

“You have seen how dangerous the island can be. A normal human will face certain doom if they were to venture into the island, and they will even become nourishment for the monster.”

Adda gritted her teeth, and her face was contorted with rage, but in the end, she relented. “Very well, then. As you wish, Roy, but there is one matter I wish to settle. If the deserter isn’t the traitor, then the one who told the fallen vodyanoi about our plans must be one of the villagers. I must find him and avenge my fallen soldiers. He must be punished.”

Adda needed to vent her fury, and she summoned the villagers to interrogate them until she found the traitor. At the same time, Roy told her about his plan, “Your Highness, Boyev told me about a village near the lake. A lot of villagers there are corrupted by the monster. Your soldiers should take them back here so they won’t cause any problems for us. As for the spy in our midst, leave that to me and Letho.” Get them five miles away from the lake, and Dagon can’t get any power from them anymore.

***

After Adda and her soldiers had left for the other village, the witchers went to the stable and tried to come up with a plan to find the spy out. Should I cast Observe and Axii on the villagers one by one? There’s two hundred of them. That’s too slow. “Here, Wilt. Finish your food and give me an idea, will you?” Roy picked up a pea from the feed and brushed his hand across the horse’s neck.

“Stop getting any ideas, kid. Wilt might be smart, but he can’t speak human tongue. Let’s go. Time for the same old routine. Wheedle out some suspects and cast Axii on them.”

The horse suddenly puffed, and it bit Roy’s sleeve, then it nudged its neck in a certain direction. Since the horse was bound to Roy, they could converse with their minds, and Roy knew what it was saying. Last night… someone… went around the people in armor… left the village… came back… really late. Wilt grinned toothily at Roy, and there were scraps of peas on its teeth.

Good boy. Roy nodded. He asked with his mind, Can you point out that bastard to me?

Wilt tilted its head, and something sparkled in its eyes. He left… just now… after the people in the armor did… the path… there!

You’re really cut out to be a spy. Roy patted the horse’s neck. You’ll be getting a lot of carrots after I come back, boy.

Wilt craned its neck happily and licked Roy’s face.

Letho was watching as Roy and Wilt conversed in silence, and he finally started considering something serious. “Did the trial damage his head or something?”

***

A field stood two miles north of Brickmasters’ village, and a dingy thatched house resided on it. A hunched man stood before the house, looking left and right. Once the man had confirmed that he was alone, he scurried into the house. It was a stark house that only contained a thin bed and cutlery.

The man huffed and puffed as he pulled the cracked floor open, then he dragged a thatched package out of a cramped cellar. With his trembling hands, he brought the package closer to his old, wrinkled face, and he closed his eyes as he stuck his nose to the package and took in its scent. When he sighed, his tense muscles eased up, and an ugly grin cracked on his face, as if he just smelled the most delectable food in these lands.

He took his plate over and carefully opened the package, revealing the one and only item within—a cured thigh with all its hairs plucked. The old man gripped his knife tightly and carved two beautiful lines on the thigh. A slab of meat the size of an index finger fell onto his plate, and he licked his lips. He stared at the thigh with lust, wondering if he should cut another slice out of it. Oh, but I don’t have much left. No, I don’t. In the end, he triumphed over his greed, and he covered the thigh with the thatch again, then he put his hands together in a prayer and closed his eyes to pray.

As he popped the greyish-white flesh between his lips, he started licking it furiously, unwilling to relinquish even an ounce of flavor, however disgusting it might be. Eventually, the flesh’s flavor ran out, and he slowly but reluctantly put it in his mouth. However, the man did not allow the flesh to travel down his throat. Instead, he let the piece of flesh stay in his mouth for as long as he wished to. The man sat quietly on the ground, enjoying the taste of flesh that lingered within his mouth. He was unmoving, not unlike a statue.

Suddenly, the front door creaked open, and before the old man could do anything, he felt something cold and dangerous sticking to the back of his neck. Then, a terrifying voice asked, “Tell me, you traitorous scum, how do you wish to die?”

***

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