‘And Hotspurn’s story was the last straw. I was almost boiling with rage… I had been told so much about destiny in the past… But here was someone else about to benefit from my destiny, thanks to simple fraud. Someone had passed themselves off as me, as Ciri of Cintra, and would have everything, would live in the lap of luxury… I couldn’t think of anything else… I suddenly realised I was hungry, cold, sleeping outdoors, that I had to wash in freezing streams… Me! When I ought to have a gold-plated bathtub! Water perfumed with spikenard and roses! Warmed towels! Clean bed linen! Do you understand, Vysogota?’

‘I do.’

‘I was suddenly ready to ride to the nearest prefecture, to the nearest fort, to those black-cloaked Nilfgaardians whom I so feared and whom I hated so much… I was ready to say, “I am Ciri, you Nilfgaardian morons. Your stupid emperor ought to take me as his wife. Some impudent fraud has been shoved into your emperor’s arms, and that idiot hasn’t realised he’s being swindled”. I was so determined I would have done it, given the opportunity. Without a thought. Do you understand, Vysogota?’

‘I do.’

‘Fortunately, I calmed down.’

‘To your great fortune.’ He nodded gravely. ‘The matter of the imperial marriage bears all the hallmarks of a political scandal, a battle of factions or fractions. Had you revealed yourself, thwarting other influential forces, you wouldn’t have escaped the dagger or poison.’

‘I understood that too. And remembered it. I remembered it well. To reveal who I was would mean death. I had the chance to convince myself of it. But let us not get ahead of the story.’

They were silent for some time, working with the skins. A few days before, the catch had been unexpectedly good. Many muskrats and coypus, two otters and a beaver had been caught in the traps and snares. So they had a great deal of work.

‘Did you catch up with Hotspurn?’ Vysogota finally asked.

‘I did.’ Ciri wiped her forehead with her sleeve. ‘Quite quickly, actually, because he was in no hurry. And he wasn’t at all surprised when he saw me!’

‘Miss Falka!’ Hotspurn tugged at the reins, gracefully spinning the black mare around. ‘What a pleasant surprise! Although I confess it’s not such a great one. I expected it, I can’t conceal that I expected it. I knew you would make the right choice, miss. A wise choice. I noticed a flash of intelligence in your lovely and charming eyes.’

Ciri rode closer, so that their stirrups almost touched. Then she hawked at length, leaned over and spat on the sand of the highway. She had learned to spit in that hideous but effective way when it was necessary to dampen somebody’s enthusiasm.

‘I understand,’ Hotspurn smiled slightly, ‘you wish to take advantage of the amnesty?’

‘No.’

‘To what, then, should I ascribe the joy which the sight of your comely face evokes in me, miss?’