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neighbourhood, echoed the howl.
One of the brothers from Strept dipped his finger in his beer and touched up the thick line
around the formation drawn by Crach an Craite.
'Error and incompetence!' he shouted. 'They shouldn't have done that! Here, towards the wing,
that's where they should have directed the cavalry, struck the flanks!'
'Ha!' roared Crach an Craite, whacking the table with a bone and splattering his neighbours'
faces and tunics with sauce. 'And so weaken the centre? A key position? Ludicrous!'
'Only someone who's blind or sick in the head would miss the opportunity to manoeuvre in a
situation like that!'
'That's it! Quite right!' shouted Windhalm of Attre.
'Who's asking you, you little snot?'
'Snot yourself!'
'Shut your gob or I'll wallop you '
'Sit on your arse and keep quiet, Crach,' called Eist Tuirseach, interrupting his conversation
with Vissegerd. 'Enough of these arguments. Drogodar, sir! Don't waste your talent! Indeed,
your beautiful though quiet tunes should be listened to with greater concentration and gravity.
Draig Bon-Dhu, stop scoffing and guzzling! You're not going to impress anyone here like
that. Pump up your bagpipes and delight our ears with decent martial music. With your
permission, noble Calanthe!'
'Oh mother of mine,' whispered the queen to Geralt, raising her eyes to the vault for a moment
in silent resignation. But she nodded her permission, smiling openly and kindly.
'Draig Bon-Dhu,' said Eist, 'play us the song of the battle of Hochebuz. It won't leave us in
any doubt as to the tactical manoeuvres of commanders - or as to who acquired immortal
fame there! To the health of the heroic Calanthe of Cintra!'
'The health! And glory!' The guests roared, emptying their goblets and clay cups.
Draig Bon-Dhu's bagpipes gave out an ominous drone and burst into a terrible, drawn-out,
modulated wail. The guests took up the song, beating out a rhythm on the table with whatever
came to hand. Coodcoodak was staring avidly at the goat-leather sack, captivated by the idea
of adopting its dreadful tones in his own repertoire.
'Hochebuz,' said Calante, looking at Geralt, 'my first battle.
Although I fear rousing the indignation and contempt of such a proud witcher, I confess that
we were fighting for money. Our enemy was burning villages which paid us levies and we,
greedy for our tributes, challenged them on the field. A trivial reason, a trivial battle, a trivial
three thousand corpses pecked to pieces by the crows. And look - instead of being ashamed
I'm proud as a peacock that songs are sung about me. Even when sung to such awful music'
Again she summoned her parody of a smile full of happiness and kindness, and answered the
toast raised to her by lifting her own, empty, goblet. Geralt remained silent.
'Let's go on.' Calanthe accepted a pheasant leg offered to her by Drogodar and picked at it
gracefully. 'As I said, you've aroused my interest. I've been told that witchers are an
interesting caste, but I didn't really believe it. Now I do. When hit you give a note which
shows you're fashioned of pure steel, unlike these men moulded from bird shit. Which doesn't,
in any way, change the fact that you're here to execute a task. And you'll do it without being
so clever.'
Geralt didn't smile disrespectfully or nastily, although he very much wanted to. He held his
silence.
'I thought,' murmured the queen, appearing to give her full attention to the pheasant's thigh,
'that you'd say something. Or smile. No? All the better. Can I consider our negotiations
concluded?'
'Unclear tasks,' said the witcher dryly, 'can't be clearly executed.'
'What's unclear? You did, after all, guess correctly. I have plans regarding a marriage alliance
with Skellige. These plans are threatened, and I need you to eliminate the treat. But here your
shrewdness ends. The supposition that I mistake your trade for that of a hired thug has piqued
me greatly. Accept, Geralt, that I belong to that select group of rulers who know exactly what
witchers do, and how they ought to be employed. On the other hand, if someone kills as
efficiently as you do, even though not for money, he shouldn't be surprised if people credit
him with being a professional in that field. Your fame runs ahead of you,
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