“The border was crossed by a lawless band of Redanian marauders, hired thugs and robbers,” Kovacs went on. “Those ne’er-do-wells are knocking over border posts, burning, pillaging, torturing and killing royal subjects. They would stand no chance in an engagement with the royal army, thus they are hiding in the forests, waiting for a chance to slip across the border. More such as them may appear in the locality. May you be warned that giving them help, information or any support will be construed as treason, and treason means the noose!

“Have any strangers been seen here at the station? Any newcomers? I mean suspicious individuals? And I say further that for identifying a marauder or helping in his capture there is a reward. Of one hundred orens. Postmaster?”

The postmaster shrugged, bowed his head, mumbled something and began wiping the counter, leaning very low over it.

The sergeant looked around and walked over to Geralt, spurs clanking.

“Who are you? Ha! I believe I’ve seen you before. In Maribor. I recognise you by your white hair. You are a witcher, aren’t you? A tracker and despatcher of divers monsters. Am I right?”

“You are.”

“Then I have no quarrel with you; and your profession, I must say, is an honest one,” pronounced the sergeant, simultaneously eying Addario Bach appraisingly. “Master Dwarf is also beyond suspicion, since no dwarves have been seen among the marauders. But for form’s sake I ask: what are you doing at the station?”

“I came from Cidaris on a stagecoach and await a transfer. Time is dragging, so the honourable witcher and I are sitting together, conversing and converting beer into urine.”

“A transfer, you say,” repeated the sergeant. “I understand. And you two men? Who might you be? Yes, you, I’m talking to you!”

Trent opened his mouth. Blinked. And blurted something out.

“What? Hey? Get up! Who are you, I ask?”

“Leave him, officer,” Addario Bach said freely. “He’s my servant, employed by me. He’s a halfwit, an errant imbecile. It’s a family affliction. By great fortune his younger siblings are normal. Their mother finally understood she shouldn’t drink from the puddles outside a plague house when pregnant.”

Trent opened his mouth even wider, lowered his head, grunted and groaned. Ligenza also grunted and made a movement as though to stand up. The dwarf laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t get up, lad. And keep quiet, keep quiet. I know the theory of evolution, I know what creature humans evolved from, you don’t have to keep reminding me. Let him off, too, commandant, sir. He’s also my servant.”

“Hm, yes…” The sergeant continued to examine them suspiciously. “Servants, is it? If you say so… And she? That young woman in male attire? Hey! Get up, for I wish to look at you! Who be you? Answer when you’re asked!”