The bridge over the Adalatte was blocked, for at that very moment a column of laden wagons and a troop of horsemen pulling riderless horses were passing over it. Geralt and Dandelion had to wait and step out of the way.

A rider on a bay mare brought up the rear of the cavalcade. The mare tossed her head and greeted Geralt with a long-drawn-out neigh.

“Roach!”

“Greetings, Witcher,” said the horseman, removing his hood to reveal his face. “I was just coming to visit you. Although I hadn’t expected we’d bump into each other so soon.”

“Greetings, Pinety.”

Pinety dismounted. Geralt noticed he was armed. It was quite strange, since mages almost never bore arms. A sword in a richly decorated scabbard was hanging from the sorcerer’s brass-studded belt. There was also a dagger, solid and broad.

He took Roach’s reins from the sorcerer and stroked the mare’s nostrils and mane. Pinety took off his gloves and stuck them into his belt.

“Please forgive me, Master Dandelion,” he said, “but I’d like to be alone with Geralt. What I must say to him is meant for his ears only.”

“Geralt has no secrets before me,” Dandelion said, puffing himself up.

“I know. I learned many details of his private life from your ballads.”

“But—”

“Dandelion,” the Witcher interrupted. “Take a walk.”

“Thank you,” he said when they were alone. “Thank you for bringing me my horse, Pinety.”

“I observed that you were attached to her,” replied the sorcerer. “So, when I found her in Pinetops—”

“You were in Pinetops?”

“We were. Constable Torquil summoned us.”

“Did you see—?”

“We did.” Pinety cut him off curtly. “We saw everything. I don’t understand, Witcher. I don’t understand. Why didn’t you hack him to death when you could? On the spot? You didn’t act too prudently, if I may say so.”

I know, thought Geralt to himself. I know, how well I know. I turned out to be too stupid to take advantage of the chance fate had given me. For what harm would there have been in that, one more corpse in the statistics? What does that mean to a hired killer? So what if it sickened me to be your tool? I’m always somebody’s tool, after all. I ought to have gritted my teeth and done what had to be done.

“This is sure to astonish you,” said Pinety, looking him in the eyes, “but we immediately came to help, Harlan and I. We guessed you were in need of assistance. We caught Degerlund the following day when he was tearing apart some random gang.”

You caught him, the Witcher thought to himself. And broke his neck without thinking twice? Since you’re cleverer than me, you didn’t repeat my mistake? Like hell you didn’t. If it had been like that you wouldn’t be wearing a face like that now, Guincamp.