The Dragon and the Wolf Ch. 02

"Most of them are dead, captain. You've seen the battlefield nearby?"

"I have. It is yet another scene of horror."

"That's where they dragged my body out of. Those I fought alongside? I believe most if not all of them died. Any that lived would have been smart and escaped the area."

"You're still here," he retorted.

"I was unconscious for over a week, and I'm still nursing wounds. I didn't really have a choice. As for these bandits, I don't like the idea of them attacking the peasantry. Their lives are difficult enough as it is. Consider it done, captain."

"I help with that, you can help with the griffin," Geralt added.

"I was going to suggest we handle them separately..."

"You're only one man, with how knows how many bandits. Best I join you." He looked at the captain. "Consider both jobs done. We'll return when the griffin is dead."

Captain Gwynleve rolled up the map, not surprised he had more than one copy lying underneath, offering it to us. "Bandit camps are noted on the map for you, Dragonborn, but also notes in regards to griffin sightings, vatt'ghern."

"Thanks," Geralt stated, and we headed out without another word.

Once we were back down the stairs and a few metres away, he unrolled the map as we figured out our position compared to the nearest bandit camp. We figured it wouldn't take too long to approach the first one, buried in the middle of a nearby wood as it was. This wasn't the time for conversation as we followed the path until Geralt stopped and listened, gesturing that we should head into the woods.

For a big man, I liked to think I could be quiet when required, but Geralt was something else entirely. Could have been a silent assassin the way he could move so silently. Taking cover behind some trees, we could see half a dozen men ahead, four sat around a campfire, two apparently on lookout, but they were relaxed.

Geralt and I shared a couple of gestures. We'd done this enough to know how the other worked. He was an artist with the sword, all technique. I... wasn't like that. I had skill, but we were different. It usually helped when it came to dealing with a group of bandits, mercenaries and whatever else we might end up fighting.

In the end, we went with the charge and catch them by surprise. He headed for one lookout, I headed for the other. He barely had enough time to get himself ready before I was swinging my sword, and he went down in one swing of my blade. The other four reacted quickly, but I was upon the next one, my first swing blocked before I practically leapt forward, putting my fist into his face, then stepping to block the sword that came towards me. Fighting two is never a good idea, but when fighting bandits, it was simply keeping your wits, and trying to kill one of them quickly... which I did.

I could hear Geralt fighting off the other one or two. If anything, he would have killed one already, so I could just focus on the last bandit I had to deal with. He wasn't wearing any armour, and I could see the tattoos covering his body. His face was dirty, missing a couple of teeth, plenty of scars. I figured he wasn't a former soldier. There wasn't the sort of training I'd expect.

"Fuckin' cunt," he cried, his sword swinging wildly, "I'll fuckin' have your guts in a second."

"You a soldier?"

"What?"

"Were you a soldier?"

"No, I wasn't a fuckin' soldier."

"Good."

I took his head within three seconds. It's not something you generally try and do, most decapitations generally happen either through luck, or the opponent is disarmed and on his knees. But just occasionally, I loved nothing more than taking the head of some piece of shit bandit.

"Piss you off, Ragnar?"

"Nothing but a mouthy gobshite."

"We'll go handle one more camp, then we'll call it a day. Tomorrow, Vesemir and I will head off to take care of the griffin. Can you handle the last one...?"

"Aye, sword and magic will suffice."

The next bandit camp was in the hills to the north of White Orchard. We recognised they were easily going to see us coming, so we walked along with weapons in hand, hoping they might just come charging towards us. That might put us on the back foot, but Geralt and I would just use magic to control while we struck with our weapons.

Geralt then shouldered me aside and lifted his sword to deflect an arrow that was fired in our direction. We both knew not to charge up a hill, so we simply slowed our steps further, and we could both see the lone archer in the distance. As soon as I felt I was in distance, I grinned to myself as I summoned a spell I knew few would use here.

An ice spike flew from my hand, covering the short distance within perhaps half a second, burying itself in his chest.

"What the fuck?" one of the bandits called.

Geralt and I shared a glance, grinned perhaps a little evilly, before we then unloaded a fire spell each. His fire spell was different to mine, but the effect was the same in that it caused an element of fear to immediately spread across the enemy, a couple dropping their weapons and running. The three remaining chose to stand and fight. Two against three might have seemed unfair to others.

We made easy work of them. That's not being arrogant, it's merely stating fact. Again, I was left thinking they were not ex-soldiers, and as we searched their camp afterwards, there was nothing to indicate they had once served in the Temerian Army. There were boxes and packages of supplies, enough to suggest they had been interrupting transports, just as Captain Gwynleve had suggested. Had they been bothering the peasants? It's possible they'd been stealing crops and sheep, but we didn't find any carcasses around, at least.

"Fuck it, let's head back," Geralt muttered.

It was a good hour or two walk back to the centre of the village, Vesemir inside the tavern, nursing a tankard of ale. The lady behind the bar brought us a round of drinks as Vesemir and Geralt discussed the griffin issue. I listened in, but I wasn't going to involve myself. Taking on a griffin was outside my expertise, at least in regards to oils I might apply to my blade or any sort of decoction I might take.

We didn't need to discuss much of a plan. They would spend the next day tracking the griffin and, with any luck, would have it handled by sunset. I would head off to take care of the last bandit camp. Part of me hoped they would be deserters rather than just regular bandits. Deserters might, just might, be willing to talk and I could at least give them warning to move on. I had no doubt the Nilfgaardians would eventually sweep through, dealing with anyone causing problems.

"We should meet here morning after tomorrow, if you're planning on joining us, Dragonborn," Vesemir stated.

"Ragnar, Vesemir."

"Merely respect. I'm one of the few that has seen your gift and likely lived to tell the tale. Still choosing not to use it?"

"I like think I'm a man of honour, at least nowadays. I gave my word to them and I'm doing my best to keep it, most of the time. That's not to say I won't use it, but I certainly limit myself when dealing with my fellow man. I will trust in my sword."

"I can respect that, Dragonborn. I've seen you in action."

"As to your idea, I'll enjoy a couple of nights with Tomira before departing. What's the plan though?"

Vesemir looked at Geralt. He simply shrugged. "Guess it depends on what the captain tells us. I have no doubt he knows exactly where she is."

I enjoyed the tankard with the pair before heading out. Tomira was busy at the stove when I walked in the door, and it felt rather domestic as, after lying my sword and shield by the door, she walked over to give me one hell of a kiss before wrapping her arms tight around me. Caressing her face, I met her eyes and... she knew. "When do you leave?"

"Two more nights with you... then I'm going to join them on the Path for a while. I'm a warrior, Tomira."

That made her smile. "I know you are, Ragnar."

"I'd ask you to come along but... I know your life is here."

"It is. I'm happy here." She leaned up to kiss me. "Plus I don't particularly like the idea of sharing."

"Ah..."

"You're easy to figure out, Ragnar, though you've also been honest. But I'm going to have some fantastic memories of your time here, and not just about the sex either."

"Speaking of sex..."

That made her laugh lightly. "Eat first, I'm sure you're hungry."

"Famished actually."

"Good. I've cooked us a nice stew, there's a bottle of Erveluce we can share... then we can head to bed for a night of lovemaking."

"When you put it like that..."

Dinner was ready quickly as I poured us a glass each as Tomira brought over a couple of bowls. We ate slowly, enjoying the wine, conversation flowing easily as always. She would sit and listen with a grin on her face as I regaled her with stories of my time back on Skyrim, whether it was my time battling dragons, or taking part in the civil war, or perhaps the earlier days when I had worked as a thief, even as an assassin.

"You know, I do wonder where you got your hand on a bottle of this," I stated.

"A lady has to keep at least a few secrets, Ragnar."

Dinner complete and another glass of wine shared, we headed to bed where we made love for what felt like hours. I showered her soft body with affection, enjoying every inch I could possibly touch. I made her moan. I made her giggle. I made her squeal. Most importantly, I made her cum... definitely more than once, which made me smile to myself. By the time I was empty, and she lay beside me, quivering slightly as she tried to catch her breath, both of us laughing away, she cuddled into me, nuzzling into my neck. "Fuck, I'm going to miss this," she whispered.

"I'll miss you," I whispered back, wrapping an arm around her.

"I'll try not to cry when you leave."

I lifted her chin with a finger and could already see the shimmer in her eyes. "No tears, Tomira. Only smiles. We've made plenty of good memories since I woke up in your bed."

"Okay. No tears. Or I'll do my best."

After breakfast the next morning, I dressed in my armour, grabbed my weapons, and headed out. Walking around armed and armoured certainly changed the attitude of the local peasants. I would say they were slightly more respectful, even deferential, perhaps thinking I would bring violence to any situation. I don't think they took me for a Nilfgaardian, but who knows...

It took a nearly all morning to make it to the position of the third camp I knew about. There were plenty of trees and bushes that provided cover, and as isolated as it was, the canopy of trees kept the weather cool and the ground beneath my feet dry. As I slowly made my way closer, I could hear the conversation taking place. And I knew within a few seconds that these men were not bandits.

Making sure my hands were spread wide, I stepped out of cover, hearing their conversation cease and weapons readied. "I come in peace," I stated loudly.

"Who are you? Why do you approach?" one of them called.

"I am Ragnar Dragonborn. I fought by your side against the Black Ones."

"Which unit?" another asked.

"Temerian Army. Third Division, First Regiment. We arrived from Vizima and linked up with the Second and Fifth to form the flank north of White Orchard. We were smashed to bits though took a lot of the fuckers with us."

"Who sent you?" the first one asked.

"The Black Ones. We need to talk."

I stopped walking around a dozen paces away. The leader was easy to pick out as he still wore the colours. No doubt others were whispering any advice they had, but he eventually gestured for silence before he waved me forward. "Approach. What's your name?"

"Ragnar. Ragnar Dragonborn."

"Rank?"

"Never given one. I was a mercenary. I know men such as yourselves may dislike us, but many of us fought and died at your side."

"Weapons away, men. And trust me on this, Ragnar, we respect any man willing to pick up and fight the Black Ones."

As weapons were sheathed, I found my hand shaken as I was led towards their campfire, and together we broke bread and shared a drink, the sign that we would not fight. But they were obviously curious as to why I was approaching. Eventually, the leader of this group, who was actually a former captain, asked, "So, why approach us?"

"The Black Ones obviously control the area. Their numbers are still limited, but obviously groups such as yourselves is attracting attention. I've already dealt with some bandits with a colleague of mine, but I was hoping I would run into fellow survivors."

"Obviously you're not here to fight us so... what?"

"I am sure you are thinking about some sort of guerrilla campaign. I applaud your efforts to continue your fight for a free Temeria, but for the moment, it will be a lost cause, and the Black Ones will eventually start to sweep through the area."

"We know these woods better than anyone," one of the others stated, "They won't find us."

"Are you suggesting something, Ragnar?" the captain asked.

"Any resistance you offer needs to be organised. Small units like yourselves will be effective but only when working in conjunction with other units. There must be someone who will be leading the campaign against Nilfgaard."

"Aye, there should be, but considering we're cut off from any units that might have survived, we can only do what we can here. My men here are all locals. They can still see their families. But they also refuse the idea of surrender. Die on your feet or live on your knees."

I nodded my understanding. "I can't tell you what to do. I will let the local garrison believe I've killed all the bandit groups. As far as I'm concerned, we've never met. But be aware that Nilfgaard obviously have plans for the region, and eventually won't take kindly to guerrillas running amok in the area. Take the fight to them by all means, but just know there will be consequences. And, more often than not, the consequences are felt by those you are sworn to protect."

Those last few words resonated with a few of them. You could see it on their faces. No doubt they had family in the village or on one of the farms in the surrounding countryside. Standing up, the captain did the same and offered his hand. "Maybe those of us who are permanent soldiers can move on and link up with any sort of command that remains."

"The commanding officer in charge around here seems decent enough. So far, few reprisals against the civilians. I'd hate to see the situation change."

He nodded. "I'll take your suggestion into consideration, but I cannot walk away from the fight. Not while Temeria is under occupation."

"I don't blame you, and I wish you the best in your fight. I hope that, one day, the Three Lilies are flying above Vizima once again."

I walked away, relieved the meeting went as well and I slowly made my way back to Tomira to enjoy a final night with her.

*****

A/N -- Comments and feedback always appreciated. If you choose feedback, make sure you include an email so I can reply. Any email sent to me is always replied to, particularly if you have any questions.

I've had a lot of fun writing this story, as I have a lot of chapters already ready to go.