“I’ll look into it,” Geralt lied easily. “I’ll look into the matter. Farewell.”

Pointer spat.

* * *

In the next clearing, this time Dudek’s, everything was in order, no one was threatening Dudek and probably no one had stolen anything. Geralt didn’t even stop. He headed towards the next settlement. Called Ash Burner.

* * *

Forest tracks, furrowed by wagon wheels, eased his movement between the settlements. Geralt often happened upon carts, some loaded with forestry products and others unladen, on their way to be loaded up. He also met groups of pedestrian wayfarers; there was an astonishing amount of traffic. Even deep in the forest it was seldom completely deserted. Occasionally, the large rump of a woman on all fours gathering berries or other forest fruits emerged above the ferns like the back of a narwhal from the ocean waves. Sometimes, something with a stiff gait and the posture and expression of a zombie mooned about among the trees, turning out to be an old geezer looking for mushrooms. From time to time, something snapped the brushwood with a frenzied yell—it was children, the offspring of the woodsmen and charcoal burners, armed with bows made of sticks and string. It was astonishing how much damage the children were capable of causing in the forest using such primitive weapons. It was horrifying to think that one day these youngsters would grow up and make use of professional equipment.

* * *

Ash Burner settlement—where it was also peaceful, with nothing disturbing the work or threatening the workers—took its name, very originally, from the production of potash, a valued agent in the glassmaking and soap-making industries. Potash, the sorcerers explained to Geralt, was obtained from the ash of the charcoal which was burned in the locality. Geralt had already visited—and planned to visit again that day—the neighbouring charcoal burners’ settlement. The nearest one was called Oak Grove and the way there indeed led beside a huge stand of immense oaks several hundred years old. A murky shadow always lay beneath the oaks, even at noon, even in full sun and under a cloudless sky.

It was there by the oaks, less than a week before, that Geralt had first encountered Constable Torquil and his squad.

* * *