The Fire of Malice || The Witcher

Chapter Four

They were free, but far from safe. Triss' portal had taken them to an abandoned building on the edge of Oxenfurt, where she had been staying for the last couple of months, ever since it had become too risky to stay in Novigrad. The house was small and run-down, but good enough for her purposes.

They landed in the main room. There was a ratty armchair in the corner opposite the front door that acted as a sentinel to the bedroom. Inside the bedroom, a side table stood next to a large bed. A small dresser and a few stools lined the wall. The one bit of comfort the home offered was a wood-stove in the corner of the main room, next to the armchair. It wasn't the lavish lifestyle Triss was used to, but she knew no one would bother her there. There were rumors that the place was haunted. Rumors that Triss herself would often propagate.

Even still, Triss knew it was only a matter of time before the witch hunters found her hiding place in Oxenfurt, but it was the only place she could think of where she could take Geralt to be treated. And he needed treatment desperately.

The escape had drained him of any last vestige of strength. He couldn't even keep his feet under him as they stepped out of the portal. Luckily, there were two of them to support him. All she could do was keep hold of him as she watched him writhe and moan in pain.

"Get him to the bed," Shani ordered, hurried but not quite frantic. "I need to treat these wounds as quickly as possible." She had taken on her medic persona, all business and no emotion. Though Triss could detect a shade of worry in her voice. That didn't bode well.

They dragged Geralt to the back room and deposited him as gently as they could onto the bed. He was barely lucid, lost in his own agony. Spit flew from between his gritted teeth and white-knuckled fists clenched and unclenched in time with his labored breathing. His eyes roamed the ceiling, unfocused and clouded.

Triss stepped aside to soundproof the room with a spell as Shani set to work.

Shani leaned Geralt's swords against the footboard of the bed and pulled his armor from the sack she had slung over her back. Deep within the bag were her medical supplies and she searched around with her hand until she came across a small jar containing an antiseptic. She dipped her fingers in the cream, leaning over Geralt.

"I'm sorry, Geralt, but I'm going to have to clean these wounds before I can bandage them."

Geralt made no reply until Shani pressed a minute amount of the cream into one of his wounds. Then he let out a wail that shook the rafters.

With difficulty borne of concern for Geralt, Triss finished her spell and turned to Shani, throwing her hand up in front of her. "Wait!" As Shani paused her ministrations, Triss muttered a spell at Geralt. Immediately, his eyes drooped, head and arms following shortly after. His breathing calmed as his face relaxed into the first sign of peace Triss had seen on it since she had found him in that cell.

Shani looked relieved. "Thank you. Sometimes I forget how useful it is to have a sorceress around." She went back to cleaning and bandaging Geralt's wounds. Triss sat down on the edge of the bed opposite Shani, watching.

"It's my fault that this happened to him. I knew those witch hunters were after me. They nearly killed Geralt because he wouldn't tell them where I was." Triss' grief quickly turned to anger. "He should have just told them what they wanted to know! I can handle witch hunters."

Shani kept her focus on Geralt, but still offered a response. "You know he would never do that to you. And you would have done the same in his place. Besides, I'm not so sure you want to take on the leader of that particular group. Roth, I think his name is. I've heard stories about him, his ruthlessness, his cruelty."

"How do you know who he is?"

"When you came to me a few days ago, after Geralt hadn't shown up to your rendezvous, I went to my friends in the city guard. Apparently Roth has a reputation that stretches further than Novigrad. They told me about some of the horrors he had committed. They were the ones who told me about Roth's hideout."

"It doesn't matter what the rumors are. Witch hunters are just dumb brutes the lot of them. Out for blood and nothing more. This Roth is no different."

"I wouldn't be so sure. He's smart, crafty, cunning. And from the sounds of it, he'd stop at nothing to get what he wants." Shani looked up. "I'd be careful around him if I were you."

"Either way, I'll deal with him eventually. He's going to pay for what he did. And hopefully I can send a message to the other witch hunters out there. Sorceresses are not so easily hunted." Her face burned with rage and determination, only for an instant, before it returned to worry and sorrow. "How is he?" Triss jerked her chin towards Geralt.

Shani hesitated just long enough to tell Triss everything she needed to know. "He'll live. But it's a good thing we found him when we did. Any longer and I'm not sure he would have survived."

Triss' eyes were downcast. "When he didn't show up a few days ago, I... I just knew he had been taken. After the ruckus he caused in Oxenfurt... it just drew too much attention. The witch hunters were bound to notice, to come poking their noses. I knew you were in the city, that you would be willing to help, and that... that Geralt would likely need it."

"I'm glad you came to me. I wouldn't have trusted this with any other healer. It's going to take a while for these burns to heal, even with his witcher healing." Shani finished the last bandage and straightened on the stool she had pulled over to the bedside, stretching muscles cramped from hunching over so long. "I'm going to have to go out tomorrow to get more supplies. When you had contacted me saying Geralt might need help... well, let's just say I wasn't expecting this."

Triss felt a twinge of guilt at the words, though she knew Shani hadn't meant it that way. She turned her head to blink back tears. Triss hated that there was nothing more she could do for Geralt. She dared not use magic to heal him. Healing magic was extremely fickle. One wrong step, one misplaced muscle or nerve or sinew and Geralt could end up crippled, paralyzed. Or worse. She couldn't risk it. Not even for what he had been through. She would leave the healing to Shani.

Once Triss had composed herself, she stood. "Well, he's going to be out for a while with that spell I cast on him. We'd better get some rest too, while we can."

While Shani organized her remedies on the dresser, Triss walked to the door, stopping only to look back once more at Geralt. He lay bloodied and broken on the bed, chest completely covered in strips of white cloth, wrists raw and red. Triss had never seen Geralt so far gone. And she couldn't stand that he had endured it because of her. She didn't care what Shani had said about Roth. She was going to find him.

And make him pay.