BooksBarbecue
Back Sword of Destiny Save as PDF

Sword of Destiny

Andrzej Sapkowski
Contents (57)
  2. Sword of Destiny
  3. THE BOUNDS OF REASON
  4. I
  5. II
  6. III
  7. IV
  8. V
  9. VI
  10. VII
  11. VIII
  12. A SHARD OF ICE
  13. I
  14. II
  15. III
  16. IV
  17. V
  18. VI
  19. VII
  20. VIII
  21. IX
  22. ETERNAL FLAME
  23. I
  24. II
  25. III
  26. IV
  27. A LITTLE SACRIFICE
  28. I
  29. II
  30. III
  31. IV
  32. V
  33. VI
  34. VII
  35. VIII
  36. IX
  37. X
  38. THE SWORD OF DESTINY
  39. I
  40. II
  41. III
  42. IV
  43. V
  44. VI
  45. VII
  46. VIII
  47. SOMETHING MORE
  48. I
  49. II
  50. III
  51. IV
  52. V
  53. VI
  54. VII
  55. VIII
  56. IX

cover

Geralt is a witcher, a man whose magic powers, enhanced by long training and a mysterious elixir, have made him a brilliant fighter and a merciless assassin. Yet he is no ordinary murderer: his targets are the multifarious monsters and vile fiends that ravage the land and attack the innocent. He roams the country seeking assignments, but gradually comes to realise that while some of his quarry are unremittingly vile, vicious grotesques, others are the victims of sin, evil or simple naivety.

Andrzej Sapkowski

Sword of Destiny

The Witcher: 2

ePub r1.1

Watcher 23.06.17

Original title: Miecz przeznaczenia

Andrzej Sapkowski, 1993

Translator: David French

Cover design: Watcher

Digital editor: Watcher

ePub base r1.2

THE BOUNDS OF REASON

I

‘He won’t get out of there, I’m telling you,’ the pockmarked man said, shaking his head with conviction. ‘It’s been an hour and a quarter since he went down. That’s the end of ‘im.’

The townspeople, crammed among the ruins, stared in silence at the black hole gaping in the debris, at the rubble-strewn opening. A fat man in a yellow jerkin shifted from one foot to the other, cleared his throat and took off his crumpled biretta.

‘Let’s wait a little longer,’ he said, wiping the sweat from his thinning eyebrows.

‘For what?’ the spotty-faced man snarled. ‘Have you forgotten, Alderman, that a basilisk is lurking in that there dungeon? No one who goes in there comes out. Haven’t enough people perished? Why wait?’

‘But we struck a deal,’ the fat man muttered hesitantly. ‘This just isn’t right.’

‘We made a deal with a living man, Alderman,’ said the spotty-faced man’s companion, a giant in a leather butcher’s apron. ‘And now he’s dead, sure as eggs is eggs. It was plain from the start he was heading to his doom, just like the others. Why, he even went in without a looking glass, taking only a sword. And you can’t kill a basilisk without a looking glass, everyone knows that.’

‘You’ve saved yourself a shilling, Alderman,’ the spotty-faced man added. ‘For there’s no one to pay for the basilisk. So get off home nice and easy. And we’ll take the sorcerer’s horse and chattels. Shame to let goods go to waste.’

‘Aye,’ the butcher said. ‘A sturdy mare, and saddlebags nicely stuffed. Let’s take a peek at what’s inside.’

‘This isn’t right. What are you doing?’

‘Quiet, Alderman, and stay out of this, or you’re in for a hiding,’ the spotty-faced man warned.

‘Sturdy mare,’ the butcher repeated.

‘Leave that horse alone, comrade.’

The butcher turned slowly towards the newcomer, who had appeared from a recess in the wall, and the people gathered around the entrance to the dungeon.

The stranger had thick, curly, chestnut hair. He was wearing a dark brown tunic over a padded coat and high riding boots. And he was not carrying a weapon.