System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 255: Familiar Faces on the Pyre
The storm that had raged for a full day and night finally broke. The sky had been washed into a near-transparent blue.
Seen from above, a dense tide of people milled along the bank of the Pontar River before a fortress so vast it was almost suffocating to behold.
Around La Valette Castle, towering walls and strong towers rose more than twenty yards high on every side, forming a beautiful city.
Those mighty defenses stretched east and west for nearly a fifth of Temeria. Their long shadows fell across the Pontar like a silent monstrous beast lying in wait.
The gate beneath the steel portcullis was the beast’s maw, swallowing and disgorging the clamorous crowd.
The Witchers submitted honestly to inspection and questioning before the gate. To get through the checkpoint, they had already handed all their weapons to Letho, who stored them in the Ring of Holding.
“Four Witchers of the Viper School, and a Cat School master-apprentice pair, come from Vizima?” The young soldier’s gaze swept over the six standing before him, lingering on the medallions hanging at their throats.
When his eyes passed over the brown horse the Witcher was leading, he paused. The horse was staring back at him with wide bell-like eyes.
“What in the hell...”
A chill crawled up the soldier’s spine for no clear reason.
It was not that he had never seen Witchers before, but in his mind most of these mutants preferred to move alone. When had so many ever appeared together at once?
Five Witchers traveling together was unheard of.
And if one thought it through, with their skill and the fact they were united, they made up a force no one could ignore.
If they kept to themselves, all well and good. But if they decided to make trouble in the city...
Especially with a Cat School Witcher among them. Those twitchy Cat School mutants had a reputation in common talk so foul it scraped the bottom of the barrel. If one of them happened to go wrong in the head...
“Best strangle trouble in the cradle.”
The young soldier’s scalp tingled. He barked out, “State your names, ages, purpose in entering the city, and how long you intend to stay.” Behind him, a clerk gripped a quill and prepared to write.
It was the first time the Witchers had seen entry procedures this strict. More troublesome than Vizima.
Still, they quickly understood. As the last line of defense between Redania and Temeria, La Valette Fortress held tremendous strategic importance. Such rigor was meant to keep foreign spies out.
The group gave the identities they had already agreed upon.
“We’ve come from Vizima. We plan to remain in the city for half a month, look around a bit, then cross the White Bridge and head for Novigrad...” Letho concluded.
“Half the merchants entering the city say they’re going to the Free City,” the soldier said impatiently. “But unfortunately for you, by order of the baron, the White Bridge is sealed indefinitely. Without a special pass, no one is allowed through.”
“You’d do better taking a boat from the port in western Velen and crossing there...”
“You just don’t want to let us in at all, do you?” Orin muttered.
The young soldier simply admitted it. “By the baron’s order, the whole city is under martial restriction these days. No more dangerous persons may be admitted. So, gentlemen, turn back...”
“Are you letting us through or not?” A merchant behind the Witchers began to grumble. “If you can’t get in, then stop blocking the road and wasting everyone’s time.”
Roy spun around and shot the fat-bellied merchant a vicious glare. The man instantly fell silent.
Then Roy drew a snow-white letter trimmed in gold from his breast and handed it to the soldier.
“Take another look, sir. Can we enter now?”
The soldier caught a hurried glimpse of the Temerian lily on the envelope and his face changed at once. By the time he finished reading the letter, his manner had turned completely around.
“Master Witchers ... forgive Eredin’s foolishness and rashness.” In the space of a second, the soldier forced a dry smile onto the face that had just been mocking them. “I didn’t know in advance that you were acquainted with Lord Velerad.”
To thank the Witchers for helping Princess Adda remove the Ekhidna’s curse, Foltest had rewarded them with a large sum of money. Before they left, Adda had also procured this letter of guarantee for them, written personally by Vizima’s castellan Velerad and stamped with the city seal.
In it, Velerad vouched for Witcher Roy and his companions so they might pass smoothly through the major cities of Temeria.
As the administrative head of the capital, Velerad still carried some weight. So long as the Witchers did not actively break the law, most lords and barons would give them some leeway.
“So can we go in now?” Orin asked with his arms folded and a half-smile on his lips.
“Of course.” Soldier Eredin lowered his head and respectfully returned the envelope. As a low-ranking soldier in the Barony, he had no wish to offend the mayor of the capital. “As it happens, the baron and Lord Velerad are old acquaintances ... he will naturally welcome your visit.”
The Witchers exchanged glances.
“And the White Bridge? Can this ‘pass’ get us across that as well?”
“At any time...”
Eredin signaled to the guards behind him. At once, the two crossed halberds blocking the gate were withdrawn, opening a path.
“One more question...” Before entering, Roy paused. “You said just now that the baron ordered the White Bridge sealed and the city placed under martial restriction. Why?”
Eredin’s face changed. He hesitated a moment. “Come this way. I’ll explain it properly to the masters.”
He led the Witchers to a corner just inside the gate and spoke in a low voice.
“A little over a month ago, Lady Luisa gave birth to the baron’s second daughter. That should have been a joyous event of the highest order...”
“You mean the old baron’s daughter?”
Eredin nodded and went on. “Baron La Valette himself, our lord. He is fifty-four this year. A daughter born to him so late in life, naturally he cherishes her like a treasure. To celebrate her birth, the lord even pardoned a number of prisoners with lighter sentences.”
“He named the young lady Anais La Valette.”
A faint smile rose on Eredin’s face. He seemed sincerely happy for his master.
Roy studied his expression carefully and found not a trace of sarcasm, mockery, or ridicule. The man genuinely believed that child was the baron’s own flesh and blood.