Mahakam Mountain Pass, 1239
Geralt remained true to his word, riding for the whole day and on into the night with very few breaks. He wanted to put as much distance between them and Vizima as possible, considering the circumstances. Eventually, any bad memories would fade and he could return, or he'd have to return, regardless of whether anything had changed. But, for now, this was the best option.
He was actually impressed with the woman. She never complained once. She wasn't dressed well at all for the road, but he made sure she remained warm enough pressed up against him, and hopefully made it more comfortable when he took his breastplate off at their first stop. She shared some of the food she had in her pack as well, making it a much more bearable journey than it might have been otherwise, even for him.
He could go without food, water, and sleep longer than the average person, but it still wasn't the way he preferred to live.
When her head started to loll against his shoulder, he dropped his mouth to her ear. "Sleep," he urged her. "You need it."
"What about you?" she murmured.
"I'm fine," he promised her. "Sleep."
She obeyed. He could tell she was reluctant, but at a certain point, she didn't have a choice. He shifted her in his arms to make sure she'd stay in the saddle and continued to push Roach as hard as he dared.
Now the mountains rose over them on either side and he slowed Roach to a canter, looking for a suitable spot to camp in the pass. He thought they were far enough away now to be safe. Either way, they had to stop soon. Roach needed rest, most significantly. And if he was hungry, the woman had to be too.
There weren't many good places to camp here, but he knew where all of the best ones were. And they were hidden, which was ideal at the moment. It was also close enough to the entrance of the pass that he might be able to hunt a deer for their dinner.
He tugged on the reins, letting Roach walk as he found one of the concealed paths and urged her up it. Before long, they emerged into a little clearing on an outcropping of rock not far up into the mountains. It was impossible to see from the road because of the bushes growing around the edges of the large stone. Roach stopped and Geralt sighed heavily, trying to let the adrenaline coursing through his veins settle.
The woman stirred against him and sat up slightly. He wrapped an arm around her waist and slipped off of Roach, gently setting her on her feet. "We're here, little mage."
"Where's here?" she wondered, turning her head to look up at him. "And my name is Robin. You should start using it if we're going to keep traveling together."
He laughed heartily, surprising her. Truthfully, he liked the fact that she talked back to him. Most people were too afraid to talk to him in the first place.
"We're in a pass that cuts through the Makaham, Robin," he answered, emphasizing her name pointedly. "I thought we'd start a fire and I'll see if I can find a deer for dinner."
She nodded. "I can start the fire if you'd like to begin hunting right away. And if you do find a deer, I can break it down and make dinner. We should be able to dry some of the meat for later as well."
"You can break down a deer?" he asked curiously.
It wasn't an unusual skill for a woman to have, but it was a strange one for a mage to possess, perhaps.
"I wasn't just my teacher's student," she explained. "I did all the cleaning and cooking in his tower too."
"I see. Well, hopefully I can find one. I'll return soon." He glanced at Roach and then looked at her. "Unpack if you like, but be careful of the elixirs in the satchel. Only witchers can stomach them. If you drink one, you'll die."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"There's some chamomile salve in a metal tin in the rest of my things. If you hurt from riding, it should help."
She swallowed and shifted on her feet. She was standing with her legs a bit wider apart than was necessary, he noticed. "Thank you," she added.
"I'll be back soon."
He turned and walked down the path, giving her some time to herself.
Robin sighed as Geralt left. She ached all over. She had hardly ever been on a horse at all before this past day. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, she was sure, since Geralt had done most of the work, but she was still hurting.
She was tempted to go right for the salve, but she didn't. First, she got a fire going. Then she unpacked her rucksack, taking the rest of the provisions out of it and seeing what she had. There was cheese and dried fruit, along with some bread. She set everything aside, then went to unpack Geralt's things.
The first saddlebag she opened was the satchel he'd mentioned. She put that away from everything else on one side of the camp. In the other, she found his limited supplies, including the salve he'd mentioned and tools for taking care of his horse.
She wasn't sure if the horse would welcome her attention, but she decided to at least take the saddle off the poor animal. It deserved to rest too.
She undressed slightly. The ride had been cold at times and warm at others, and her clothes were stuck to her skin with a thin sheen of sweat. It hadn't been terrible, though, thanks to Geralt. He had kept her warm when it was cold and let her sleep against him, which was more than she'd expected.
She stripped down to just her bodice and underskirt, laying everything else over the gnarled, twiggy bushes to let them air out. Then she hitched up her skirt and finally used the salve he recommended, pleased when it started to tingle and offer her relief immediately.
It wasn't long before he was back, a deer slung over his shoulder. He had two full water skins as well, and she moved to take them from him.
He glanced around the camp, seeming pleased. "Thank you," he said shortly.
She nodded. "You're welcome. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to do more with your horse."
"Roach," he told her.
"Her name is Roach?"
"You know she's a she?"
He seemed surprised, but she shrugged. "That's not that hard to tell, you know."
"Most people mistake her for a stallion," he admitted. "Yes, Roach. Like the fish. And I doubt she'd let you groom her. She usually only lets me do it. I'll take care of her if you start breaking down the deer."
"Of course."
Butchering was automatic for her. He had a good knife for it, which was nice. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he brushed the horse, speaking to her gently the entire time. He clearly cared about her. Robin thought it was sweet.
She made quick work of the deer and was almost done by the time Geralt finished with Roach. He stood beside her, his arms crossed over his chest, a small smile on his face. "You're very good at that," he observed. "I'll get the spit. We can roast some. I tried to find vegetables for a stew, but there was nothing."
"We have bread and cheese and dried fruit," she told him. "We'll be all right."
"I'll set the rest of the meat to dry in a moment," Geralt offered.
She nodded and they worked in silence for some time. It was more comfortable than she'd expected it to feel.
Soon, they were both settled in front of the fire, smelling the roasting meat. Geralt turned it on the spit every once in a while. For now, she stayed silent, not sure if he was in the mood to talk. Most of the time, he seemed rather taciturn.
"I'm sorry they came after you for helping me," he apologized when he finally spoke.
She shook her head slightly. "That's not your fault. I helped because I wanted to."
"But you wouldn't have had to if I hadn't been fighting," he pointed out.
"And I wouldn't have had to if I hadn't been looking for you," she countered. "Besides, you can't be held responsible for their actions. That's not fair at all."
"I've found that people are not often fair," he revealed.
She smiled bitterly. "No, they're not. Neither is life."
She hugged her knees and he looked her up and down. "Did you use the salve I told you about?"
She nodded. "Yes. It worked well. Thank you."
"You're welcome." He paused. "Tell me something." Her eyes slid to the side and she looked at him, waiting. "Why are you so determined to stop this Yennefer's plot? You're not a monster."
"How do you know?" she retorted, though she already knew the answer.
"Because I'm a witcher." He smiled. "It's kind of my job."
"You have a shitty job," she informed him.
"That I do," he agreed, his eyes moving over her face like she was a puzzle he was trying to figure out.
"Sometimes I feel like a monster," she admitted softly. "The things I've done, the things I can do, the things that have been done to me, they... change a person. I may not be hurt by silver, but... actions make a monster."
"What can you have possibly done? So you stole a book and killed a man who deserved it. That doesn't make you a monster."
"How do you know he deserved it?" she countered, turning to him more fully.
"Call it a guess. Why would you risk everything to find a witcher you knew nothing about just to stop something bad from happening to others if you were an awful person, Robin?"
She stared into his dark amber eyes and he stared right back.
No one had ever believed she was good before, except her brother. It touched her deeply.
He sat up, breaking their eye contact, and turned the spit again. "Why don't you tell me about yourself, Robin? I find myself curious."
"Is it unusual for you to be curious?"
"Yes."
"It's a rather long story," she warned him.
"I have more time than most," he reminded her.
"I suppose you do." She rested her chin on her knees and stared into the fire. "I've never told anyone my life story before. I suppose there's always a first time."
"I'm listening," he assured her.
And indeed he was, with rather rapt attention. "All right," she relented. "I guess I should start at the beginning."