The White Werewolf || Season One: Ties That Bind

Chapter Eighty-Four

Cintra, 1263

Geralt had been riding for most of the day. He still wasn't sure that he should have left Robin behind, especially since he didn't even know if he was on the right track. No matter how much he tried to smell Jaskier, there was too much death and fire around him to pick anything up.

He'd made his way toward where he'd been told there was a refugee camp, hoping to find something there. But as he finally broke through the trees and came upon it, he realized that he was far too late. The camp had been attacked.

There was a lone man hauling bodies around. Geralt wasn't sure what he was doing, so he approached him carefully. After ascertaining that he was only trying to help, Geralt asked him several questions, but it was clear that he hadn't seen Jaskier or the princess.

At least that meant they probably weren't among the dead. Geralt didn't want to have to tell his wife that he'd lost her brother.

As he prepared to move on, ghouls came out of the ground and grabbed the man. Geralt quickly swallowed an elixir, jumped off of Roach, and saved him, ordering him to leave.

The man scrambled away. It wasn't lost on Geralt that this fight would have been much easier if Robin were with him. Ghouls were dead, and she could have dispatched them with very little effort.

He managed to defeat the swarm, but he was bitten in the process. And ghoul bites were deadly, even to a witcher.

As he stared at his leg, he shook his head. "Not a happy ever after, after all," he murmured to himself bitterly.

He was going to die alone, without ever knowing if his wife, his brother-in-law, and his Child of Surprise had survived this raging conflict.

"I'm sorry, Robin," he whispered.

Then he fell to his knees and passed out.

****

Triss rejoined Robin and Yennefer just before nightfall, at the same time that Geralt was encountering the ghouls. She explained that preparations were under way to defend the keep, but that they were likely coming up woefully short.

"We need more, and I don't know how to get it," she admitted.

"I could cast a spell," Yennefer volunteered. "A fire spell big enough to decimate their army."

"Fire magic is..."

"Discouraged, I know," Yennefer interrupted.

"As are many forms of magic," Robin chimed in. "And it's unnecessary. It's the caster, not the magic itself, that needs to be worried about. Magic has no motivations. Those who wield it do."

Triss sighed. "I suppose you're right."

"Don't look like that, Triss," Robin admonished her. "You took me on, after all, with very few qualms. And I've already promised not to tell the Brotherhood."

"No one has to know I'm doing it," Yennefer reminded her. "It can be the last line of defense."

"You'll need time to cast a spell that big," Robin observed.

"I will," Yennefer agreed.

"I can give it to you," Robin declared. "I'll march out and face Nilfgaard. It's better if I go, anyway. I'd rather the Brotherhood not know about me, if I have a choice in the matter."

"What could you possibly do to hold them off for that long?" Yennefer wondered.

Robin chuckled. "There's a reason I hid my mind from you all this time, besides the principle of it all," she revealed. "Watch the show and you'll see." She looked at Triss. "I'll need you to do whatever you can to give me an advantage."