Strong male hands wander through her body. On the stomach, above ... Above her face hung with cat eyes, framed with white hair.

“Geralt ...” she whispers. And the dream crumbles a thousand pieces.

The hands were really, but they did not belong to the Witcher, but to the skinny, dark-haired Nilfgaardian with a hooked nose.

- Not Geralt, cuach'ep ass! Snapped the man, unceremoniously pawing the sorceress.

A fever spread across the right cheek, and the cruel reality was inexorably creeping over the girl’s consciousness, driving sweet dreams into a subcortex. She realized that she was lying on a piece of hard fabric over hay sheaves in a cart, and that she was completely naked. The enchantress mechanically tried to cover up the causal place, but when faced with the hand of a man who rested her stomach, she remembered that it was completely meaningless. But this impulse reminded about the two-armored bracers, holding down its magical potential for almost half a year.

The man hanging over her read the face of what was happening in the girl's head, and grinned like a wolf above a dead-huddled lamb, exposing its neck to deadly teeth.

- Good morning beauty. - he said.

Triss did not answer, for which she received on the same cheek.

- Good morning, damn you. - from unexpected impertinence the man stopped smiling.

- Good morning, sir. - Triss lowered her eyes, and pressed her hand to the already twice burnt cheek. Placed between her legs a man found that Triss is looking to the point where their bodies will soon merge.

- Wet, hot ... Now I'll arrange it for you! - Nilfgaardets again showed his teeth, and began to tighten his pants.

***

After Nilfgaard broke his teeth about the tactical genius of Radovid the Fierce, life in the North became very difficult. Plague, hunger and endless war with unwanted. Triss could not close her eyes to everything that happens, as Geralt and Yennifer did, as almost all wizards and sorceresses did, hiding in the most wretched burrows, or hiding on Skelliga, in the courtyard of the northerners.

Triss did everything she could to save her brotherhood from witch hunters, and began to think how to save her people from another disaster. Ekaterin was rampant in all the northern kingdoms. She did not spare anyone, and no one knew how to fight her. The healers treated only the symptoms, but even this prolonged the life - or rather the torment - of the patient for only a couple of weeks.

A young student of Aretusa, Mifilla, suggested to Triss the direction of her search: the ancient records of the traveler, who described a very similar disease, were gathering dust in the library. The book was called "Gaakland: a country of horses." The book said that their sorcerers — shem-mana — know how to cure this ailment. Triss bypassed all friends, and gathered an entire expedition to the far eastern lands.

In the spring of 1274, the wanderers set off on the longest journey of their lives. At least, it became such for Triss.

It took two weeks to cross the Blue Mountains, but it took them much longer to travel through the steppes of Gaakland. There were steppes, there were animals, there were stars and the sun, by which it was possible to at least somehow navigate in the endless steppe. There were picturesque canyons and cozy oases in which I wanted to stay forever. And the stories of Buttercup by the fire were. But there were no people in these steppes. At the end of the first month, when some were already desperate and offered to turn back, they found traces of a large group of animals. This people, according to the book, lived like this - migrating back and forth after the huge herds of artiodactyls. Triss and company overtook herders only in the fall.

Shem-man of the tribe they met agreed to tell the secret of the healing elixir to the guests, and even agreed to tell even more secrets, but only on the condition that Trissy in return would teach him his magic. Triss agreed.She wrote down the prescription drug, gave it to her "expedition", and told them to rush back as soon as possible. They should have passed the recipe to Jennifer, or any enchantress who wants to use it for good purposes. She herself stayed with the old man, in a year or two to bring home completely new knowledge, and to share with the savior of her people what she knows herself.

It was the third week of her new students when they were attacked by the parking lot. Others, but ... the same. Also Haak, the same people, the same people. Triss and Shem-man Saraoguz participated in the battle, helped the men in leather armor armed with bows and daggers as they could, but on the side of the enemy there were at least four magicians who were not inferior to them both, and the ordinary soldiers were under two hundred. Shem-man was killed, and Triss was shackled in double-door, and captured, like all other women of the tribe. But Triss seriously stood out from the rest.

Other women were dismantled as wives or, more correctly, slaves, but Triss's fate was different. It is logical that for such a wonder - a red-haired and white-skinned woman of dazzling beauty - you can get a fabulous sum. So, this is a product for sale, and not for personal use.

And if so, then you need to use while you can.

But, let's be frank, it is unlikely that such a complex logical chain could ever come to the heads of the barbarians on horses. Just her outfit, created and supported by magic, dissolved, disappeared before the eyes of an aggressive crowd of soldiers intoxicated with a victory, as soon as they put on their bracers. At that moment, her fate was decided, and the prosecutors, in the amount of about fifty, rushed to execute the sentence with joy.

***

Konlaokh Var Tarnkhan rapidly finished the girl on the stomach, tidied up the clothes, and got out of the wagon, whistling some children's Nilfgaard song.

- You are without breakfast right to the passenger? - another male voice asked him from afar from afar. - I would eat first, she would not run away anywhere.

- In the morning everyone is tormented by his hunger. - Konlaokh responded, and, continuing to whistle, I went somewhere about my business.

Birds were singing in the street, a pair of sunshine penetrated through the holes in the tent. Flies buzzed above their heads, and the twigs protruding in places from sheaves of hay, painfully dug into the back and ass. The sorceress wiped the cloth on which she slept, the sperm from her belly and breasts, and climbed out. Going down from the cart, put on slippers and ... everything. It was all her clothes. Here, in the south, it was warm, so that nudity did not threaten the health and safety of goods. In addition, she had on her amulet, which treated her and made her even more beautiful.

Every time she was sold or given her, someone would certainly try to hang on her amulet. In the clay city where the haacks sold her, it was the daughter of the kagan who bought it. In Ogaaz - the favorite of the concubines in the harem of the local ruler. In Zerrekaniya - the mistress of a brothel, where she fell from the clutches of the robbers. But they all quickly became convinced that the amulet only works when it hangs around its owner's neck. And that without him they will receive for the sorceress much less than with him. Without an amulet, the girl grew older, wrinkles appeared on her face, her stomach became not so tight, and in places even gray strands appeared. Her eyes turned from green to blue, and between the breasts and up, almost to the neck, a terrible scar appeared.

The camp was waking up. Here and there people got out of the carts, warmed up, walked to the river. Fifty meters away, by the fire, stood Kahavan, and stirred the brew in a pot. “Great day has begun. Beaten and fucked dry, and now, Kahavan in the kitchen. I can't see breakfast, thought Triss.

Despite this, she went to the fire, holding and covering her bare breasts with her hands.

In appearance, Kahavan was about thirty. Posture, bearing, demeanor - all at once betrayed in him an officer, and an officer good. He led the detachment that drove her to Radovid.And it was he who, on the very first day of his journey, started a seemingly unacceptable order from a military point of view, the only reasonable goal of which could be an attempt to turn the life of Triss into hell.

Kahavan var Ymlak had already managed to remove the pot from the fire and poured himself a portion of quite appetizing-smelling brew. Chicken soup with vegetables. Half a year of life half starved taught Triss ...