Chapter 20: Aldersberg

The great wall that stood thirty feet tall formed Aedirn’s final line of defense — the city of Aldersberg. Lyria and Rivia stood in the east of the city, while the Mahakam mountain range stood in the west, stopping anyone from attacking. Aldersberg was almost impregnable, an iron wall between the nilfgaardian army and their conquest. In front of the city was a moat dug by the people, and the bridge above it was the city’s entrance, but it was heavily guarded.

All kinds of people traveled across the bridge: farmers who were in a hurry to get to the market, merchants who brought carriages of merchandise, and even travelers from afar. They were forming a line for the guards to perform a check before they could get any clearance. Behind them, a great wilderness unfolded, where dozens of villages that provided for Aldersberg stood.

“Letho, a witcher from the Viper School?” a guard asked.

“Yes.”

“You’d better keep your head down when you’re in there. The rebel army’s troubling enough, and we don’t want any more problems from a witcher. Understood?” A guard with a halberd gazed at Letho with suspicion. His gleaming armor had a crest made up of red and yellow lines emblazoned on his chest.

The crest that looked like a flaming arrow was Aedirn’s crest.

After checking Letho’s pass, the guard looked at the scrawny boy behind him. “Is this boy with you?”

“Yes.”

“Who is he?”

“My employer, Roy. He comes from Kaer, Lower Posada. Wants to visit his family in Aldersberg.”

“Alright, you may go.” Roy’s delicate face and frail demeanor didn’t make him look like a threat. The guards let them go without any further questions.

The village boy, Roy, finally arrived in Aldersberg, a big city in another world. Even though a revolution was heating up, it didn’t change the fact that it was a bustling city.

Behind the city gates laid a buzzing, business district. Shouts from store owners rang across the place, and different stores unfurled before their eyes. The district was filled with people dealing with their everyday business. Even the smallest house in the city was bigger and better than Kaer’s village chief’s house. Most of them had arched doors, etched windows, and domed roofs. The walls were filled with complex, ever-changing engravings as beautiful as pieces of art.

Roy, who was used to the quiet wilderness, fell into a trance. He felt like he was in a european city during the late Renaissance. A shame Aldersberg was invaded during the first Northern War. I wonder how much of their culture can be preserved.

Letho shook his head in mild disappointment, thinking Roy was shocked by the bustling city. After getting through the street that was behind the gates, the pair came to a clearing. Standing in the middle of the stone-paved street was a small fountain plaza.

A seven-feet statue stood in the middle of the stone pedestal. The statue was that of an old man. He was in rags, but he had a wise twinkle in his eyes and a bushy beard. A crowd surrounded it, talking loudly. They had books in hand, and Roy guessed they must’ve been talking about academic topics. They were in better garments than the peasants, and they had hats on top of their heads. Trinkets hung on them, and even their shoes were neatly cleaned. A team of fully-equipped soldiers patrolled nearby. “Who’s that statue supposed to be?”

“Lebioda. He symbolizes wisdom. Has a lot of followers in Aldersberg,” Letho answered indifferently. “Those people there are merchants and children of minor nobles. The real workers are working their butts off to put food on the table.”

Roy went through his memories about Lebioda. He’d started out as a wandering, public speaker who’d promoted his philosophy and wisdom everywhere. Thanks to his charisma and eloquence, he gained countless followers who believed his philosophy fervently. He was famous in the northern kingdoms, and humans weren’t the only people who looked up to him — dwarves did too.

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Eventually, he was called a saint, a seer, and a prophet. Many years after his death, he was worshipped as a deity in his temple. The mention of religion made Roy think of an infamous church. “Isn’t Eternal Fire the most popular religion in the north?”

Letho explained patiently. “Eternal Fire is famous in Vizima, the capital of Temeria, and Novigrad, the city of freedom. In recent years, Eternal Fire has shown disdain toward non-human races, becoming more extreme with time. They have many followers, but are also infamous amongst many humans, dwarves, elves, and other non-human races.”

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Roy knew that after Radovid’s succession of the throne, the whole of Redania would be engulfed by Eternal Fire’s flame. The cult eventually spread its bigotry further, encroaching witchers and mages. Everyone who wasn’t human was hunted down, but that was a story for another time.

“Aldersberg is just beside the Mahakam mountain range, and that’s where the dwarves live. They make business selling ores from the mountain, and that makes them a big power player here. They won’t let Eternal Fire establish itself around their home.”

“Not bad,” Roy mumbled. “Where are we going next?”

“We’ve been on the road for a week. Let’s rest up for a few days and see what happens.”

Walls Inn, Aldersberg city center.

Letho let himself go and ordered all sorts of wine, including dwarven liquor, kirsch, and fiorano.

Wine filled the table, but all Letho did was taste them slowly. After every sip, he would squint in relaxation and take a deep breath, as if he were enjoying the best thing in the world. He would open his eyes from time to time to look at the merry crowd in the inn.

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Labor workers, farmers, merchants, and even thugs were having fun in the inn. Status was of no importance here. As for Roy, well, he found himself itching for something once he’d come inside. He was itching for Gwent. The boy took out the Skellige deck Jack gave him and went to a table that was having a loud Gwent match. He was brave enough to do that because of Letho being around.

“Let’s switch once you lose, my friend.”

“Get lost, you brat!” A man in a shawl glared at Roy in disdain, but once Roy showed his deck, it attracted all the players’ eyes. They looked at Roy with passion and greed, as if they could win his deck.

Roy sat on the chair and smiled. “Do you want to win my rare cards?” he asked, inviting them into his trap. “I will give them all if you win. Here’s the deck, so come on up.”

Roy was planning to win more money with Gwent. City life was expensive. “I can win with my deck as well as my expe — I mean, my cheats,” he mumbled.

On the other hand, after having twenty glasses of wine, Letho was turning scarlet. Even though he was a witcher, having too many drinks made his mind foggy, though nobody knew if he was truly drunk. Not even himself.

Most people would give a wide berth if they saw someone with a sword and amber eyes. Some gave witchers looks of disdain, but none harassed them. Letho was too fearsome a person, and everyone thought he could kill at a moment’s notice. Not everyone was a bandit, and not everyone had the guts to provoke witchers.

All but one kind of person.

A woman walked toward Letho seductively, and she held his arms as if they’d known each other forever, though it was only mere moments since they’d met. She then whispered something into his ear.

“Boy!” Letho shouted at the crowd. When Roy looked back in shock, Letho grinned toothily. “Can you stay down here for a while?”

Roy couldn’t object to that. He nodded in resignation and saw them off. Letho and the woman went upstairs, leaning against each other. That woman’s taste is interesting. So she’s interested in burly baldies. No wait, she probably smelled the scent of crowns on him.

“He can’t even hold back when his disciple’s here.” But then Roy thought about it, and he could understand it. They’d killed drowners and a dozen humans over a single week. Stress was inevitable, and release was important. Roy chose Gwent as an outlet, while Letho went for alcohol and women. Their interests were different, but their goal was the same.

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