Free The Sword of Destiny by Andrzej Sapkowski Page B

to respect my order, I honourably challenge him, in the form of a knight's duel using only conventional weapons; that is, without magic or bursts of flame. Battle will continue until the surrender of one of the parties. I await your answer through your herald, in accordance with protocol!"
    All were dumbfounded.
    "It talks!" Boholt murmured, barely able to catch his breath. "Incredible!"
    "And very intelligently, at that," added Yarpen Zigrin. "Does anybody know what a confessional weapon is?"
    "Common place, without magic," answered Yennefer, frowning. "Something else surprises me, however. They cannot articulate properly with a forked tongue. This rascal uses telepathy. Watch out because it works in both directions. It knows how to read your thoughts."
    "Is it completely mad or what?" declared Kennet alias Ripper, annoyed. "A duel of honour? With a stupid reptile? It's so small! Let's go at it all together! As a group!"
    "No."
    They looked amongst themselves.
    Eyck of Denesle, already on his horse, fully equipped, his lance at his stirrup, cut a more impressive figure than when he moved on foot. Fevered eyes shone beneath the raised visor of his helmet. His face was pallid.
    "No, Lord Kennet," repeated the knight, "over my dead body. I will not allow insult to the honour of knights in my presence. He who dares to violate the code of honour of duelling..." Eyck spoke more and more intensely; his impassioned voice broke and trembled with excitement. "Who dares to make fun of honour, makes fun of me. His blood or mine will run on this wasted earth. The animal demands a duel? So be it! Let the herald sound my name! Let the Judgment of the Gods decide our fate! The might of fangs and claws for the dragon, his infernal fury, and for me..."
    "What a moron," murmured Yarpen Zigrin.
    "For me, law, faith and the tears of the virgins that this lizard..."
    "Shut up, Eyck, you're giving us the urge to vomit!" Boholt reprimanded. "Get on with it. Get yourself over to that meadow instead of babbling on!"
    "Hey, Boholt! Wait!" the leader of the dwarves intervened, stroking his beard. "You forget the contract? If Eyck strikes down the lizard, he will acquire half..."
    "Eyck will acquire nothing at all," replied Boholt, grinning. "I know it. If Jaskier dedicates a song to him, that will be more than enough for him."
    "Silence!" Gyllenstiern ordered. "So shall it be. Faith and honour will rally against the dragon in the form of the knight errant, Eyck of Denesle, fighting in the colours of Caingorn as lance and sword of the King Niedamir. Such is the will of the king!"
    "You see?" ground out Yarpen Zigrin under his breath. "The lance and the sword of Niedamir. The idiot King of Caingorn has definitely got us. What do we do now?"
    "Nothing." Boholt spat. "You are not going to pick a fight with Eyck, alright? Certainly, he talks crap, but since he's already rashly mounted his horse, it's better to let him go. Let him go, damn it, and let him settle his score with this dragon. Afterwards, we shall see."
    "Who holds the office of herald?" Jaskier asked. "The dragon wanted a herald. Perhaps me?"
    "No. It's not a question of singing some ditty, Jaskier," replied Boholt, frowning. "Yarpen Zigrin has a booming voice; let him be the herald."
    "Agreed, what does it matter?" replied Yarpen. "Give me the standard with the coat of arms so that we can do this properly."
    "Watch out, lord dwarf, make sure you're polite and respectful." scolded Gyllenstiern.
    "Don't tell me what to do." The dwarf thrust out his chest proudly. "I had already conducted my first official engagement while you were still learning how to talk."
    The dragon remained sat on the hillock, waving its tail cheerfully while it waited patiently. The dwarf heaved himself onto the highest rock. He cleared his throat and bellowed:
    "Hey! You there!" he shouted, putting his hands on his hips. "Scaly shithead! Are you ready to hear what the herald has to say? That's me, in case you were