The beekeeper had heard these tidings at a honey and beeswax trade market from a relative living in Riedbrune, while the relative had been given the information from a diamond prospector acquaintance of his. When the beekeeper learned about the druids he ran as quickly as he could to tell the Witcher. And now he was glowing with happiness, pride and a sense of importance, like every liar when his lies accidentally turn out to be true.

At first, Geralt had intended to make for Loch Monduirn without a moment’s delay, but the company protested vehemently. Being in possession of the money from the beekeepers–declared Regis and Cahir–and being in a town where anything could be bought, they ought to stock up on vittles and supplies. And buy extra arrows, added Milva, because they was always demanding game from her and she weren’t going to shoot whittled sticks. And spend at least one night in a bed in an inn, added Dandelion, and retired to that bed bathed and pleasantly tipsy on ale.

The druids, they chorused, won’t run away.

‘Utter coincidence though it may be,’ added the vampire Regis with a curious smile, ‘our company is on exactly the right road, and heading in exactly the right direction. For since we are clearly and absolutely destined to encounter the druids, a day or two’s delay makes no difference.’

‘And as regards haste,’ he added philosophically, ‘the impression that time is quickly running out is customarily a warning signal enjoining one to reduce the pace, and proceed slowly and with due prudence.’

Geralt didn’t protest or argue with the vampire’s philosophy, although the weird nightmares he was being haunted by still inclined him towards haste. Despite his being unable to recollect them after waking.

It was the seventeenth of September and a full moon. Six days remained until the autumn Equinox.

Milva, Regis and Cahir took upon themselves the task of making purchases and acquiring the necessary equipment. Geralt and Dandelion, however, were to reconnoitre and gather information in the town of Riedbrune.

Situated in a bend in the River Nevi, Riedbrune was a small town, if one only took into consideration the densely-grouped brick and wooden buildings inside the ring of earthen embankments bristling with a palisade. But the serried buildings inside the embankments were currently merely the centre of the town, and no more than a tenth of the population could live there. Nine tenths resided in the noisy ocean of ramshackle huts, shacks, cabins, sheds, tents and wagons serving as dwellings which surrounded the embankments.