“Be quiet, Eist,” hissed the queen furiously, “because I’ll get angry.”

Mousesack’s black eyes flashed as—with a glance—the druid indicated Rainfarn of Attre who, with a gloomy, grimacing face, was preparing to stand. Geralt reacted immediately, standing up first and banging the chair noisily.

“Maybe it will prove unnecessary to convene the council,” he said in ringing tones.

Everyone grew silent, watching him with astonishment. Geralt felt Pavetta’s emerald eyes on him, he felt Urcheon’s gaze fall on him from behind the lattice of his black visor, and he felt the Force surging like a flood-wave and solidifying in the air. He saw how, under the influence of this Force, the smoke from the torches and oil lamps was taking on fantastic forms. He knew that Mousesack saw it too. He also knew that nobody else saw it.

“I said,” he repeated calmly, “that convening the council may not prove necessary. You understand what I have in mind, Urcheon of Erlenwald?”

The spiked knight took two grating steps forward.

“I do,” he said, his words hollow beneath his helmet. “It would take a fool not to understand. I heard what the merciful and noble lady Calanthe said a moment ago. She has found an excellent way of getting rid of me. I accept your challenge, knight unknown to me!”

“I don’t recall challenging you,” said Geralt. “I don’t intend to duel you, Urcheon of Erlenwald.”

“Geralt!” called Calanthe, twisting her lips and forgetting to call the witcher Ravix, “don’t overdo it! Don’t put my patience to the test!”

“Or mine,” added Rainfarn ominously. Crach an Craite growled, and Eist Tuirseach meaningfully showed him a clenched fist. Crach growled even louder.

“Everyone heard,” spoke Geralt, “Baron Tigg tell us about the famous heroes taken from their parents on the strength of the same oath that Urcheon received from King Roegner. But why should anyone want such an oath? You know the answer, Urcheon of Erlenwald. It creates a powerful, indissoluble tie of destiny between the person demanding the oath and its object, the child-surprise. Such a child, marked by blind fate, can be destined for extraordinary things. It can play an incredibly important role in the life of the person to whom fate has tied it. That is why, Urcheon, you demanded the prize you claim today. You don’t want the throne of Cintra. You want the princess.”

“It is exactly as you say, knight unknown to me.” Urcheon laughed out loud. “That is exactly what I claim! Give me the one who is my destiny!”

“That,” said Geralt, “will have to be proved.”

“You dare doubt it? After the queen confirmed the truth of my words? After what you’ve just said?”

“Yes. Because you didn’t tell us everything. Roegner knew the power of the Law of Surprise and the gravity of the oath he took. And he took it because he knew law and custom have a power which protects such oaths, ensuring they are only fulfilled when the force of destiny confirms them. I declare, Urcheon, that you have no right to the princess as yet. You will win her only when—”