“I rather noticed. And won’t ask questions. But do you know what, Witcher? Somehow the urge to stay at this station and wait idly for the coach for two days has left me. Firstly, because the boredom would do for me. And secondly, because that maiden you defeated with a broom in that duel said goodbye to me with a strange expression. Why, in the fervour, I exaggerated a tiny bit. She probably isn’t one of those you can get away with slapping on the bottom and calling a whore. She’s liable to return, and I’d prefer not to be here when she does. Perhaps, then, we’ll set off together?”

“Gladly.” Geralt smiled again. “It’s not so lonely on a journey with a good companion, any philosopher will certify to that. As long as the direction suits us both. I must to Novigrad. I must get there by the fifteenth of July. By the fifteenth without fail.”

He had to be in Novigrad by the fifteenth of July at the latest. He stressed that when the sorcerers were hiring him, buying two weeks of his time. No problem. Pinety and Tzara had looked at him superciliously. No problem, Witcher. You’ll be in Novigrad before you know it. We’ll teleport you straight into the Main Street.

“By the fifteenth, ha.” The dwarf ruffled up his beard. “Today is the ninth. There’s not much time left, for it’s a long road. But there’s a way for you to get there on time.”

He stood up, took a wide-brimmed, pointed hat down from a peg and put it on. He slung a bag over his shoulder.

“I’ll explain the matter to you on the road. Let’s be going, Geralt of Rivia. For this way suits me down to the ground.”

* * *

They walked briskly, perhaps too briskly. Addario Bach turned out to be a typical dwarf. Although dwarves were, when in need or for reasons of comfort, capable of using every kind of vehicle or riding, pack or harness animal, they decidedly preferred walking. They were born walkers. A dwarf was able to cover a distance of thirty miles a day, as many as a man on horseback, and, what’s more, carrying luggage that a normal man couldn’t even lift. A human was incapable of keeping up with an unburdened marching dwarf. And neither was the Witcher. Geralt had forgotten that, and after some time was forced to ask Addario to slow down a little.