Daughter of the Witcher Ch. 01

Night found them still riding very late on, since there was a bright moon. Margit planned to stop only once for a few hours before morning.

Nothing happened that night.

But the next, as she and her son were many leagues away and still riding on late into the night, the sky near the small village was aglow with the flames of their burning home and Olaf lay dead in his hall as did Gunnar's sister and her family.

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Gunnar and his daughter rode on, working their way slowly back home when Louhi sat up in her saddle a little more to look ahead.

Her quiet phrase startled Gunnar, but he looked over and nodded when he heard her say it.

"That one."

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The young man looked amazed at what he saw as the young girl pulled her hood back to look at him. Her light blue eyes seemed to lock onto his own in some way and he thought that they could almost send their thoughts to each other.

He was incorrect. Her eyes locked onto his and decided that though there wasn't much in there, he could likely do what was required and then hopefully become instantly forgettable afterward.

He looked with a bit of nervousness at the hooded old man who sat on a horse a little ahead of the one which the light-headed apparition rode. The old man shrugged and looked away.

The young man looked back toward the girl and she spoke to him.

"Did you not hear me?"

"Yes, ... " the young man nodded, "I heard what you said."

"Are we in agreement then?" she asked him and he nodded slowly, not quite believing his luck.

"Yes," he said.

The white-haired man in the cloak dismounted to pitch a tent without a word.

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At some point during the early morning, the old man awoke and got up from under the blanket outside the tent where he'd lain to put on his cloak once more to walk down to the river nearby for some water.

Next to the tent once more, he hung a piece of smoked glass on the small branch formed by the little feeler that the tree put out just at a convenient height for him. He shrugged at his reflection and pulled back his hood, holding up the spring scissors that he'd crafted for the purpose a few days before. He looked a little sceptical but he began to work them into his beard.

After a minute, he turned to look behind him as the young woman walked out of the tent to go to the river herself to wash. As she threw off her loose-fitting garment, the young man emerged from the tent and stood watching as he tucked his shirt into his pants.

"Well, that was a night to remember," he said a little cockily as he smiled, "I have a hope that you'll settle nearby, old man. That girl is a wonder.

Is she a slave to you or, ... do you sell her sometimes?"

The older man grunted, but said nothing as he kept at the hedge-trimming under his chin.

His companion found the silence to be a little uncomfortable and so he kept his gaze on the girl, since she was so sweet to look at, but gradually, the silence grew to bother him, so he said, "You're being a bit rude, you old goat. I was just trying to be pleasant."

The man looked at his cropped beard and reached to grab the young man without a word. He said nothing for the moment as he looked at the tree and reached with his free hand to snap off a branch which looked as though the torn-off end would be sufficient. Satisfied, he hung the young man up by the collar of his heavy wool shirt.

The hanging man could do little but struggle a bit while he tried to see what the old man was doing. All that he could see in his field of view were the large hands which now laid a large bowl on the boulder in front of the tree. The hands went onto the bowl, and the water began to steam not long afterwards.

Then the man was bending over to wet his face in the water. When he stood up, he remembered his cloak and removed it, setting it aside before he faced the fool hanging from the tree.

He straightened fully and produced a dagger, shiny and wicked-looking in its efficient simplicity. Dipping it into the bowl, he began to shave.

"That girl," he said in a low and menacing voice, "is my daughter."

The young man began to offer his sincere apologies in as quick and heartfelt a manner as he could while he looked at the large and obviously battle-scarred man who now worked at shaving as best he could while thinking about killing someone at the same time.

Well he didn't want to cut himself.

The one who dangled wondered how it could have been that he hadn't noticed the giant before this. He'd looked like only an old and wizened man the evening before.

Because of what he was, Gunnar could easily see the thoughts of the young man and said only, "You were looking at nothing other than her. I have not changed in my size of the way that I look."

Gunnar didn't so much mind the growing of a beard, for all of its itching as it began. He was just shaving it off, and the truth be told, he was late with it this year, with winter long past.

He held up his hand to the babbling idiot.

"Tell me," he said quietly, "What is the purpose of your rambling apology? What I hear from you now is the sound that a fool makes when he realizes that he has released the arrow and it has hit a person who was not the target."

He turned, "But I was the target of your Ill-chosen spittle, wasn't I?"

He went on shaving and the man with the dangling feet said nothing as he tried to get free.

When Gunnar was finished, he picked up the bowl and threw the contents into the young man's face.

Then he looked over and smiled, "Oh, Sorry.

I guess that now we stand on even ground, since I have made it all better with my apology.

I think that it would be best for you to keep what happened last night as a pleasant memory. You were chosen because my girl there wanted a man, and being her father, I cannot help her for reasons that I would hope would seem obvious to you, ..."

He leaned a little closer and the man whimpered as he watched that face draw nearer still as Gunnar finished his thought.

"Goat-herd."

Louhi walked up the bank naked with her sleeping shift over her arm and looked at the man hanging there for a moment. Then she shrugged and went back inside the tent.

Gunnar turned his gaze back to the fool, "From what she tells me, she is not fertile yet this month, so there will likely not be any little pink fools for me to have to get to know in my old age.

You were chosen only for her pleasure. Your own pleasure is not important to me, so do not tell me that she is a wonder as though we are talking about a tavern wench. Do not try to move or try to speak anymore nonsense until she and I are about to leave. I will let you down then."

He kept staring into the young man's eyes until he saw the shaky nod. He walked away then.

It seemed like only minutes before the two travelers were ready to depart. In that time, Louhi had pulled on her trousers and a simple light shirt and walked past her lover from the night before maybe half a dozen times to tie things onto her horse and that of her father.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" he asked her once as she went by.

"No," she said as she disappeared into the tent to roll up the bedding, but her voice continued, "Last night was only an agreement between us and it ended with the dawn. This was only a fuck and nothing more," she said, "No doubt the best one that you have ever had from your noises, but even though you were the first male that I have ever lain with, It was little more to me than a disappointment in some ways."

She walked out of the tent and on her way back from her horse; she helped her father with the folding of the tent.

"Well don't you want to know --"

She had gone from standing a little bent over and folding a tent to standing right in front of him in less time than it took to blink.

Which the young man did quite a bit of then.

He felt the slowness of his nervous swallow from the way that she gripped his throat tightly.

"You have already gone against my father's instructions to you by even speaking to me. You were told that you would be let down if you could remain still and not speak.

Do not speak your name to me. I have no wish to hear it and I would only do my best to forget it as quickly as possible anyway. Do you finally understand?"

He nodded, and swallowed, "Thank you," he said softly.

Louhi groaned and slapped her forehead as she turned back and helped to get the tent onto the pack horse.

They saddled up and turned their horses away. Gunnar waved his hand and the young man fell down onto his backside a little heavily, the side of the boulder leaving a long deep scratch up his back.

As they sidled their horses back toward the road, Louhi groaned again as the young man appeared beside her horse, beseeching her.

"Please," he began, "please don't go, young Mistress. I want to know about you. I wish to, ... I would do anything to - "

Louhi looked down at him. She couldn't believe this. "There is nothing between us," she said, "Please go back to your herd. I wish to leave. Please go."

He wouldn't give up and reached for the bridle on her horse.

When he had it in his hand, she found her gone from the saddle. He let go of the bridle and stood looking confused and very startled as she spun him around from behind him.

"You are making this worse," she said, "A fuck is not a love. Leave me alone. I have no wish to harm you."

"But I'll do anything," he said, "I'll beg if I have to -- "

He shut up then, seeing that Gunnar had stopped his horse and was looking back darkly.

"I don't care," the boy said, "I'll take care of you for all of your life, Mistress. I'll do anything. Please!"

"Anything?" Louhi asked as though she were suddenly interested.

He nodded, "Yes. Yes, anything."

She shook her head as he suddenly saw the glittering edge of a black blade spinning once in her overhand grip as she regarded him coldly, "Then leave me alone while you still have your life inside of you."

He backed away then.

She turned and ran, moving faster than anyone that he'd ever seen in his life for a little distance until she seemed to jump into the very air to sail ahead and land on the back of her horse. The two riders spurred their horses gently and the young man was alone.

"Did you find out what you wished to learn?" Gunnar asked after several minutes of silence.

Louhi looked at her father, "Yes, no, and I cannot say for certain," she said, "I hope there are better men out there somewhere than that one. Why was he like that? What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing," Gunnar said, "you have left a young fool behind, that is all.

He looked away for a moment, "And like any young fool, it is hard for him to keep his mind on any one thing for long, and even more difficult to keep his jaws from flapping.

For perhaps the first time in his life, he has had his balls emptied well, and like about ANY other young fool - and even many older ones in that circumstance -- he now sees love where there is none for him and no matter what is said or how vehemently it is shown to him otherwise and that it cannot ever be, THAT is what he carries in his heart, a non-existing hope at love where there never was any.

The only cure is time - or having his balls emptied once more, so long as the girl is willing and a little pretty to look at in the dark."

She nodded and they rode on.

"I would like to offer you the advice that the next young fool that you choose for this, ...

Try to pick one who smells a little better."

Louhi grinned a little and nodded, "Yes."

"You should look for fleas at some point." He said, looking off in another direction.

She laughed then, which was the reason why he'd made the remark.

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They met Margit and Kotan late that afternoon, and it was a tearful meeting as she explained what had happened as well as what she feared had happened afterward.

Gunnar sat with his head bowed and thought about it for a moment. When he raised his head, he saw the first of Louhi's tears as they both realized that Olaf and his people were dead as well as many of their kin.

"Our home still smokes from the burning!" Louhi wailed as she hung in her brother's embrace.

There was not much of a meal for the family that evening since no one wanted to eat much of anything.

As Margit thought to try to get a little sleep that night but knew that it was unlikely, Gunnar looked and saw into his daughter's eyes again and even he was surprised at how they glittered to him.

"My friends," she seethed in a low tone, "my childhood friends and playmates and our neighbors have killed my family."

She held up her open hands then. "See how many cousins my own age and younger now lie dead from what I know. There are almost that many again who were older and were killed. I want the score settled; the one who taught love and yet preached hate on the pile also."

Their talk between them lasted an hour and then they tried for a little sleep themselves.

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In the morning, Gunnar advised Margit to head on for his mother's home with Kotan and they'd meet up there.

He saw her worried and questioning look and shrugged.

"Louhi would seek vengeance, Margit, and I would advise her against the attempt, but for our kind neighbors and their love for me and mine. All these years and I have never harmed anyone. How many have I helped for nothing more than the quiet asking and a word of thanks?

My sister lies dead in her hall as well, and Olaf, ..."

He hung his head, "My old friend, who stood in the way and caught arrows himself more than once which had been sent for me.

How can I preach calm and reason when my own heart yearns for the slaughter? At the least, I will find what is left of them and I will build their pyres and light them in the old way."

That day, Margit and her son rode on and were at a safe place inside of two more days.

Louhi wore a pair of heavy pants which allowed free movement while giving some protection as well. Her travels with her father had shown her the obvious need for some sort of substantial footwear as well and she'd had boots made for the purpose. They were soft where comfort was needed, but on the outside they were all just rough and stiff leather.

Over her upper body, she wore a shirt which had been made using a sort of leather breastplate for the foundation piece and over that, she wore thin fitted shoulder pads which were surfaced with steel. It all weighed a bit, but it would go a ways toward keeping her from looking quite as scarred as her father did.

Gunnar and Louhi began to ride in the opposite direction and after a few minutes of it, a shroud of blackness descended over them and their mounts. Less than seven hours later, they were tying up their mounts who looked around themselves in a little wonder for a pair of horses who found themselves in a familiar place and were not tired in the least.

Nothing happened until after nightfall, and the first things to be noticed were the funeral pyres as they burned near to a village where no one burned their dead any longer. Several people ventured over to look past the burned poles of the barricade fence at the pyres there inside the walls, and never returned.

The witcher and his daughter knew at a glance who had been involved and who had only nodded at the things thrown to them from the pulpit.

Homes burst into flame.

Animals had their tethers cut so that they could be led away into the darkness before the barns and stables exploded.

People who were not involved slunk back into the darkness of their rooms and crossed themselves, muttering prayers when they saw a white-haired young witch prowl down the middle of the narrow streets with tears streaming from her lovely eyes as they looked out from under her eyebrows.

She walked with a blade in each hand looking for someone.

When she found one, there were screams from out in the street. She walked past the innocents without a sound.

And over fifty people from goons to the plotters hung from hooks to shriek and wail piteously for as long as their bodies could survive with their skin and hair burned off in one single moment.

The witcher had raised his hand in answer to what had been done.

She came around one corner of the inn close to the marketsquare and found herself forced to either slow down in her stride or change her course to avoid tripping over the legs and feet which were hastily pulled out of the way as much as they could be . Louhi looked down into the shadows at the terrified eyes which looked up at her face, knowing that here was someone to avoid and that it was already long past too late for it and there was nowhere to run and no further darkness to pull back into.

She heard a thin gasp and Louhi stopped to stand in place looking for the moment to get a sense of who was there.

After a few seconds had passed, she heard an even thinner and terrified shuddering exhalation when the breath couldn't be held any longer.

What she saw was a little dirty, lost and miserable -- and plainly in fear of her life, but Louhi knew this person.

"Annikki?"

There was another gasp then and the unfortunate leaned forward a little, trying to draw courage from it from the only gods knew where.

The light gray eyes nodded and Louhi bent down a little and helped the poor girl up.

The illegitimate child of one of the men that Olaf had brought with him as he'd traveled through Germania and a servant girl, Annikki had been perhaps Louhi's only true friend and playmate long before, when there had ever been any time for play between them. Annikki's trouble then stemmed from the same cause as Louhi's, but for a different reason. She wasn't anything to the other children, their parents making it clear that she was nothing and no one to them.

They'd spent even less time together since Louhi had made her choice to follow the path and had seen each other only rarely, perhaps in moments where Annikki had seen Louhi as she rode off with her father someplace.

Louhi knew at a glance that the past days had been a form of hell for the thin girl.

"What are you doing here?" she asked and Annikki looked around furtively, "I was sent on an errand to buy a little wine for lord Olaf. He gave me a few silvers, but that is enough to buy wine by the cask and he only wanted two skins filled. I didn't understand, but he told me to hurry, so I left.

But as I left the gate, I saw many men. I could hear them talking and one said to some others that it was too soon and to leave me alone. I ran to seek the wine merchant, but before I got there, I heard it beginning. They were forcing the gate, Louhi! Then I, ... then,..."

She drew a breath, willing herself to keep a measure of control, "Everyone is dead inside the walls. I have been hiding here because I have nowhere to go. I have hidden for days, but tonight, ... " She looked around again, "Something walks the streets this night and it kills everyone."

"Come on," Louhi said in a low voice before Annikki had much more time to test the limits of whatever slight courage that she might have left, "This is no place for any friend of mine anymore. There is nothing here but death, though it is not quite enough yet for my taste. I am the thing which walks this night and kills -- one of them anyway.

As silly as it sounds to me to say it -- and if you can believe me, you are safe with me."

She put her left arm around the girl and they began to walk, though Louhi had to remember to be mindful of Annikki's shorter stride. That came from her fear and uncertainty as well as the difference in their statures. Annikki stood maybe five feet, three inches and Louhi was as tall as her mother and a little more at just over five, nine.