A Shard Of Ice 6

VI

Although it seemed to him he was roaming the streets aimlessly and purposelessly, he suddenly found himself at the southern wall, by the excavations, among the network of trenches criss-crossing the ruins by the stone wall and wandering in zigzags among the exposed squares of ancient foundations.

Istredd was there. Dressed in a smock with rolled-up sleeves and high boots, he was shouting instructions to his servants, who were digging with hoes into the coloured stripes of earth, clay and charcoal which made up the walls of the excavation. Alongside, on planks, lay blackened bones, shards of pots and other objects; unidentifiable, corroded and gnarled into rusty lumps.

The sorcerer noticed him immediately. After giving the workers some loud instructions, he jumped out of the trench, and walked over, wiping his hands on his britches.

‘Yes? What is it?’ he asked bluntly.

The Witcher, standing in front of him without moving, did not answer. The servants, pretending to work, watched them attentively, whispering among themselves.

‘You’re almost bursting with hatred.’ Istredd grimaced. ‘What is it, I asked? Have you decided? Where’s Yenna? I hope she—’ ‘Don’t hope too much, Istredd.’

‘Oho,’ the sorcerer said. ‘What do I hear in your voice? Is it what I sense it is?’ ‘And what is it you sense?’

Istredd placed his fists on his hips and looked at the Witcher provocatively.

‘Let’s not deceive ourselves, Geralt,’ he said. ‘I hate you and you hate me. You insulted me by saying that Yennefer… you know what. I came back with a similar insult. You’re in my way and I’m in your way. Let’s solve this like men. I don’t see any other solution. That’s why you’ve come here, isn’t it?’ ‘Yes,’ Geralt said, rubbing his forehead. ‘That’s right, Istredd. That’s why I came here. Undeniably.’ ‘Indeed. It cannot go on like this. Only today did I learn that for several years Yenna has been circulating between us like a rag ball. First she’s with me, then she’s with you. She runs from me to look for you, then the other way around. The others she’s with during the breaks don’t count. Only we two count. This can’t go on. There are two of us, but only one can remain.’ ‘Yes,’ Geralt repeated, without removing his hand from his forehead. ‘Yes… You’re right.’ ‘In our conceit,’ the sorcerer continued, ‘we thought that Yenna would, without hesitation, choose the better man. Neither of us was in any doubt as to who that was. In the end, we started to argue over her favours like whipsters, and like foolish whipsters understood what those favours were and what they meant. I suppose that, like me, you’ve thought it through and know how mistaken the two of us were. Yenna, Geralt, hasn’t the slightest intention of choosing between us, were we even to assume she’s capable of choosing. Well, we’ll have to decide for her. For I wouldn’t dream of sharing Yenna with anyone, and the fact that you’re here says the same about you. We, Geralt, simply know her too well. While there are two of us neither of us can be certain. There can only be one. That’s the truth, isn’t it?’ ‘It is,’ the Witcher said, moving his numb lips with difficulty. ‘The truth is a shard of ice…’ ‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

‘What’s the matter with you? Are you infirm or in your cups? Or perhaps stuffed full of witcher herbs?’ ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. I’ve… I’ve got something in my eye. Istredd, there can only be one. Yes, that’s why I came here. Undeniably.’ ‘I knew,’ the sorcerer said. ‘I knew you’d come. As a matter of fact, I’m going to be frank with you. You anticipated my plans.’ ‘Ball lightning?’ the Witcher asked, smiling wanly. Istredd frowned.

‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘Perhaps there’ll be ball lightning. But definitely not shot from around the corner. Honourably, face to face. You’re a witcher; that evens things out. Very well, decide when and where.’ Geralt pondered. And decided.

‘That little square… he pointed. ‘I passed through it…’ ‘I know. There’s a well there called the Green Key.’

‘By the well then. Yes indeed. By the well… Tomorrow, two hours after sunup.’ ‘Very well. I shall be on time.’

They stood still for a moment, not looking at each other. The sorcerer finally muttered something to himself, kicked a lump of clay and crushed it under his heel.

‘Geralt?’

‘What?’

‘Do you feel foolish, by any chance?’

‘Yes, I do,’ the Witcher reluctantly admitted.

‘That’s a relief,’ Istredd muttered. ‘Because I feel like an utter dolt. I never expected I’d ever have to fight a witcher to the death over a woman.’ ‘I know how you feel, Istredd.’

‘Well…’ the sorcerer smiled affectedly. ‘The fact that it’s come to this, that I’ve decided to do something so utterly against my nature, proves that… that it has to be done.’ ‘I know, Istredd.’

‘Needless to say, you know that whichever of us survives will have to flee at once and hide from Yenna at the end of the world?’ ‘I do.’

‘And needless to say you count on being able to go back to her when she simmers down?’ ‘Of course.’

‘It’s all settled then,’ the sorcerer said, and made to turn away, but after a moment’s hesitation held out his hand to him. ‘Till tomorrow, Geralt.’ ‘Till tomorrow,’ the Witcher said, shaking his hand. ‘Till tomorrow, Istredd.’