‘This morning,’ said the weather-beaten individual in a low voice, ‘we planned to go diving outside the usual grounds. One boat went further westwards, beyond the headland, towards the Dragons Fangs.’

‘The Dragons Fangs,’ Agloval cut in, ‘are two volcanic reefs at the end of the headland. They can be seen from our coast.’

‘Aye,’ Zelest confirmed. ‘People don’t usually sail there, for there are whirlpools and rocks, it’s dangerous to dive there. But there’s fewer and fewer pearls by the coast. Aye, one boat went there. A crew of seven souls, two sailors and five divers, including one woman. When they hadn’t returned by the eventide we began to fret, although the sea was calm, as if oil had been poured on it. I sent a few swift skiffs there and we soon found the boat drifting on the sea. There was no one in it, not a living soul. Vanished into thin air. We know not what happened. But there must have been fighting there, a veritable massacre. There were signs…’

‘What signs?’ the Witcher squinted.

‘Well, the whole deck was spattered in blood.’

Drouhard hissed and looked around anxiously. Zelest lowered his voice.

‘It was as I said,’ he repeated, clenching his jaw. ‘The boat was spattered in gore, length and breadth. No question but a veritable massacre took place on board. Something killed those people. They say it was a sea monster. No doubt, a sea monster.’

‘Not pirates?’ asked Geralt softly. ‘Or pearl diving competition? Do you rule out a normal knife fight?’

‘We do,’ said the duke. ‘There are no pirates here, no competition. And knife fights don’t result in everybody–to the last man–disappearing. No, Geralt. Zelest is right. It was a sea monster, and nothing else. Listen, now no one dares go to sea, not even to the nearby and familiar fishing grounds. The people are scared stiff and the harbour is paralysed. Even the cogs and galleys aren’t setting out. Do you see, Witcher?’

‘I see,’ Geralt nodded. ‘Who will show me this place?’

‘Ha,’ Agloval placed a hand on the table and drummed his fingers. ‘I like that. That’s witcher talk. Getting to the point at once, without unnecessary chatter. Yes, I like that. Do you see, Drouhard? I told you, a hungry witcher is a good witcher. Well, Geralt? After all, were it not for your musical companion you would have gone to bed without your supper again. My information is correct, is it not?’

Drouhard lowered his head. Zelest stared vacantly ahead.

‘Who’ll show me the place?’ Geralt repeated, looking coldly at Agloval.

‘Zelest,’ said the duke, his smile fading. ‘Zelest will show you the Dragons Fangs and the route to them. When will you start work?’

‘First thing tomorrow morning. Be at the harbour, Mr Zelest.’

‘Very well, Master Witcher.’

‘Excellent.’ The duke rubbed his hands and smiled mockingly again. ‘Geralt, I’m relying on you to do better with this monster than you did with the Sh’eenaz situation. I really am. Aha, one more thing. I forbid any gossiping about this incident; I don’t want any more panic than we already have on our hands. Do you understand, Drouhard? I’ll order your tongue torn out if you breathe a word.’