“Yes,” said Coodcoodak, clearing his throat and rising from his chair. “Eist has it wrong. This doesn’t even look like an inn anymore. It’s more like a zoo, so a bison should be at home here. Honorable Calanthe, allow me to offer my opinion.”

“A great many people, I see,” said Calanthe in a drawling voice, “have an opinion on this problem and are offering it even without my permission. Strange that you aren’t interested in mine? And in my opinion, this bloody castle will sooner collapse on my head than I give my Pavetta to this crank. I haven’t the least intention—”

“Roegner’s oath—” Urcheon began, but the queen silenced him, banging her golden goblet on the table.

“Roegner’s oath means about as much to me as last year’s snows! And as for you, Urcheon, I haven’t decided whether to allow Crach or Rainfarn to meet you outside, or to simply hang you. You’re greatly influencing my decision with your interruption!”

Geralt, still disturbed by the way his medallion was quivering, looked around the hall. Suddenly he saw Pavetta’s eyes, emerald green like her mother’s. The princess was no longer hiding them beneath her long lashes—she swept them from Mousesack to the witcher, ignoring the others. Mousesack, bent over, was wriggling and muttering something.

Coodcoodak, still standing, cleared his throat meaningfully.

“Speak.” The queen nodded. “But be brief.”

“As you command, your Majesty. Noble Calanthe and you, knights! Indeed, Urcheon of Erlenwald made a strange request of King Roegner, a strange reward to demand when the king offered him his wish. But let us not pretend we’ve never heard of such requests, of the Law of Surprise, as old as humanity itself. Of the price a man who saves another can demand, of the granting of a seemingly impossible wish. ‘You will give me the first thing that comes to greet you.’ It might be a dog, you’ll say, a halberdier at the gate, even a mother-in-law impatient to holler at her son-in-law when he returns home. Or: ‘You’ll give me what you find at home yet don’t expect.’ After a long journey, honorable gentlemen, and an unexpected return, this could be a lover in the wife’s bed. But sometimes it’s a child. A child marked out by destiny.”

“Briefly, Coodcoodak.” Calanthe frowned.

“As you command. Sirs! Have you not heard of children marked out by destiny? Was not the legendary hero, Zatret Voruta, given to the dwarves as a child because he was the first person his father met on his return? And Mad Dei, who demanded a traveler give him what he left at home without knowing it? That surprise was the famous Supree, who later liberated Mad Dei” from the curse which weighed him down. Remember Zivelena, who became the Queen of Metinna with the help of the gnome Rumplestelt, and in return promised him her firstborn? Zivelena didn’t keep her promise when Rumplestelt came for his reward and, by using spells, she forced him to run away. Not long after that, both she and the child died of the plague. You do not dice with Destiny with impunity!”