"Witchers don't meddle in politics." Letho made the decision for Roy in a single sentence, then briskly tore up the notice.
Roy had no intention of joining the so-called march. The Revolutionary Army's brutal looting outside the city disgusted him!
Besides, no matter how the Revolutionary Army and the government forces fought, civilians always suffered the most. He could almost picture the civilians who joined the march tomorrow, wailing as soldiers dragged them off to prison.
After a night had passed, the two of them arrived at Seville Hogg's estate early the next morning. As the guards led them through the gate, the dwarf liquor merchant, who had been waiting for them, waved the guards and maids away.
He lowered his head and gritted his teeth, his hands clasped tightly together. He was so nervous that he paced back and forth in front of them several times. After a long while, he let out a deep sigh.
"Could you two give me your word and swear never to tell anyone... No, not even the Elder Races or any other creature what I'm about to say?"
Seville suddenly raised his head, a trace of pleading in his eyes.
Letho and Roy exchanged a glance. Would the dwarf really trust their promises without any proof or written agreement?
Seville seemed to have read their minds. "I can't help it. I just can't take the torment from that monster anymore... the one you called Hym. If this keeps up, I'll die!"
His eyes were wide, bloodshot all over. It seemed that even after the Witchers had left last night, he still hadn't been able to rest.
"Besides, even if I make you swear, anyone can be tempted if the price is high enough! I just want your promise so I can put my mind at ease."
He smiled bitterly.
At his words, Letho's brows rose like blades. As one of the few surviving members of the School of the Viper, his pride wouldn't allow him to lie about something like this.
"Money can buy a lot of people, but Witchers aren't among them!"
"Before accepting the contract, you never said we had to swear an oath. An oath isn't an ordinary promise. It's bound up with the power of fate, like the Law of Surprise, and fate is hard to defy."
"So Witchers never swear lightly!"
Letho held up one finger to the dwarf.
"Pay up!"
The dwarf's face twitched, though a trace of delight crept into his expression. The more seriously the Witchers treated their oath, the more trustworthy they seemed, didn't they?
Roy seized the opening and held up five fingers. "Fifty crowns. For half of what Master Letho charges, you can have the oath of an apprentice of the School of the Viper."
The three of them quickly reached an agreement. The total reward for the contract rose from the original 200 crowns to 350, but the wealthy dwarf liquor merchant could easily afford it.
"I, Letho of Goulart, swear on the honor of the Viper School that I will not reveal anything about Lord Seville Hogg's secret today to anyone, any Elder Race, or any other creature. Otherwise, may the gods punish me by ensuring that I never live to see my school rise again."
"I, Roy, swear by... well... Goddess Melitele that I won't reveal a single word of what I hear from Lord Seville Hogg today. Otherwise..."
Roy believed neither in Prophet Lebioda nor in Goddess Melitele, but he meant his oath. He would keep his mouth shut.
Half an hour later, Letho and Roy followed Seville Hogg into the master bedroom on the third floor. Letho first cast an Igni Sign to set the fireplace roaring, then lit four man-high torches and placed one at each corner of the dwarf's bed.
Every corner of the bedroom was brightly lit. Not the slightest shadow remained.
"Mr. Seville, please lie down on the bed now."
The dwarf did as he was told, covering himself with the blanket, somewhat nervously. Then Letho's voice sounded by his ear. "It's just the three of us now. You can tell us about your nightmare—your secret."
The dwarf closed his eyes, his face twisting with pain as he slowly began to tell his story.
"This is a story about my good friend Aken."
"Aken came from Redania. His father was a half-elf, and his mother was human. That's right, he was the one-quarter elf people said was destined for greatness. So he looked no different from a full-blooded human."
"He was a wise man who often said, 'Alcohol rots a person's reason,' so he never touched a drop. After coming to the Mahakam Mountains, he often advised me, helping me go from an insignificant nephew of Borin Hog to a powerful figure. In the end, I beat out Zoltan Chivay and my other rivals, and secured the liquor trade in Edessberg."
"He was my benefactor, and my good friend. But he was never the sort to remain under someone else's thumb for long. After coming with me to Edessberg, he soon found a new goal and left my group."
"Maybe it was because, growing up in Redania, he'd seen his father mistreated and discriminated against by humans because of his elven blood, never enjoying an equal place in society. He despised all injustice and discrimination from the bottom of his heart, and he put his beliefs into action, fighting back in earnest."
"Without a doubt, Aedirn's exorbitant taxes were a grave injustice. So he used his wits to secretly gather all the commoners brave enough to resist."
"Anyone could join Aken's group, regardless of race or past, as long as they had a heart that sought freedom and justice and the courage to fight back. They received free food and lodging. Of course, I funded some of it. Perhaps there was a seed of revolution in Aedirnians' blood, because the group grew incredibly fast. Before long, Baron Tavik had no choice but to take them seriously."
"Edessberg had gained a fifth faction, alongside the baron's troops, the commoners, the Sparrow Gang, and the Mahakam dwarves. The original balance of power was broken, and Baron Tavik, a moderate, began negotiations with Aken. At first, things went very smoothly, and the talks produced a result that almost everyone was happy with. Taxes on farmers and merchants were reduced by a fifth. I advised Aken to call it quits, but he wasn't satisfied. After a brief lull, he began putting pressure on the baron again."
"Ah, the prophet once said, 'An honest man's fury can burn down all of Mahakam.' The baron was enraged by Aken's ever-growing demands and issued a warrant for his arrest!"
At that, Roy's eyes lit up. He'd already guessed Aken's true identity.
"To evade the search, Aken secretly came to me for help. As his good friend, I had no choice but to take him in. I swear by the Holy Mountain, I hid him in the most concealed place in my entire estate."
Roy and the Witcher remained impassive, as if they knew nothing.
"The wine casks in the cellar are endless. The soldiers could search them all day and never finish. Besides, I wouldn't let them open the casks and ruin my fine liquor, and the baron didn't dare offend Mahakam by making his soldiers do that. Naturally, they never found Aken, who had hidden inside a cask of Dwarven spirit that was more than sixty years old."
"Aken was perfectly safe..." A bitter smile appeared on Seville's face. "Unfortunately, I overlooked one thing. He never touched a drop of alcohol. He'd never drunk before. His tolerance was even lower than a newborn baby's."
"When I returned to the cellar and opened the cask, he... he... had passed out from the smell of the liquor. His face was bright red, and he was lying in half a cask of Dwarven spirit as if he'd fallen asleep. But no matter how I called to him, he wouldn't wake up."
"He died!" Seville sat bolt upright in bed and grabbed Letho's bear-sized paw. His beard bristled, his eyes bulged, and his heart seemed ready to leap out of his chest.
"It's absurd! A genius gone too soon! A wise man who never touched a drop, drunk to death in my cellar. I dream about Aken every night. He comes to accuse me, asking why I murdered him with fine liquor. I failed him after all he did for me."
After hearing the whole story, Letho felt a sense of absurdity wash over him. A man who never touched a drop had died in a cask of liquor.
"I'm a bastard... I... I deserve these nightmares... I let him down! But I didn't murder him!"
"Boo-hoo..." The burly, panda-eyed dwarf kept muttering like he was sleep-talking, then covered his face and burst into tears. He looked just like an oversized child, and Roy couldn't help twitching the corner of his mouth.
"Good. Now we know the whole story. Lord Seville, calm down and come with us to the cellar to investigate. From what you've told us, the cellar is undoubtedly the place you fear most. Unless something goes wrong, Hym will appear there!"
"Huh? I... do I have to go?" Seville curled up in fear, torn between wanting to see for himself the creature that had haunted him for months and being unable to suppress the terror in his heart.
Letho pretended to think for a moment. "You can stay near the cellar entrance and watch us!"
"Here... take the key..."
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