‘Grandpappa,’ Guiscard Vermuellen recalled, ‘said something about watermelons, smiling roguishly. He said somebody always wants to give to a pauper, even if out of calculation. He also said that since Nilfgaard itself was contributing to increasing the strength and military capabilities of the Redanian Army, they couldn’t blame others for doing the same.

‘Later though,’ the old man went on, ‘grandpappa summoned my father, who was at that time the chief of intelligence, and the minister of internal affairs. When they learned what orders they were to execute, they fell into a panic. They were concerned about releasing more than three thousand people from prisons, internment camps and exile. House arrest was to be withdrawn from more than a hundred.

‘No, it didn’t only apply to bandits, common criminals and hired mercenaries. The pardons were mostly for dissidents. Among the pardoned were henchmen of the deposed King Rhyd and people of the usurper Idi, their virulent partisans. And not only those who had supported in word: most were in prison for sabotage, assassination attempts and armed revolts. The minister of internal affairs was horrified and papa extremely worried.

‘While grandpappa,’ the duke went on, ‘was laughing as though it were a first-rate joke. And then he continued–I remember every word: “It’s a great pity, gentlemen, that you don’t read the Good Book before going to sleep. If you did, you would understand the ideas of your monarch. As it is, you’ll be carrying out orders without understanding them. But don’t worry, your monarch knows what he’s doing. Now go and release all my impish cats, those tiresome pests.”

‘That’s just what he said: impish cats, pests. And he meant–which no one then could have known–subsequent heroes, commanders covered in glory and fame. Those “cats” of grandpappa’s became the celebrated condottieri: Adam “Adieu” Pangratt, Lorenzo Molla, Juan “Frontino” Guttierez… And Julia Abatemarco, who became famous in Redania as “Pretty Kitty”… You, youngsters, won’t remember it, but when I was a boy, when we played at war, every lad wanted to be “Adieu” Pangratt, and every girl Julia “Pretty Kitty”… But to grandpappa they were mischievous cats.

‘Later though,’ mumbled Guiscard Vermuellen, ‘grandpappa took me by the hand and led me out onto the terrace, where grandmamma Zuleyka was feeding the seagulls. Grandpappa said to her… Said…’

The old man slowly and with great effort tried to recall the words, which, eighty-five years ago, King Esterad Thyssen had said to his wife, Queen Zuleyka, on the terrace of Ensenada Palace, towering over the Great Canal.

‘Do you know, my most beloved wife, that I have spotted one more piece of wisdom among the words of the prophet Lebioda? One that shows me yet another benefit of giving Redania those mischievous cats? Cats, my Zuleyka, come home. Cats always come home. Well, and when my cats return, when they bring their pay, their spoils, their riches… I shall tax them!’