larger Hyphydra marginata. The biotope of both species is stagnant water or water which flows very slowly. The species are, indeed, predatory, preferring to feed on warm-blooded creatures… 1 lave you anything to add?'
'Not right now. I'm listening with bated breath.'
'Yes, hmm… Mention can also be found, in the great books, of the subspecies Pseudohyphydra, which lives in the marshy waters of Angren. However, the learned Bumbler of Aldersberg recently proved that this is an entirely different species, one from the Mordidae family. It feeds exclusively on fish and small amphibians. It has been named Ichtyovorax bumbleri.'
'The monster's lucky,' smiled the witcher. 'That's the third time he was named.'
'How come?'
'The creature you're talking about is an ilyocoris, called a cinerea in Elder Speech. And if the learned Bumbler states that it feeds exclusively on fish then I assume he has never bathed in a lake with an ilyocoris. But Bumbler is right on one account: the aeschna has as much in common with a cinerea as I do with a fox. We both like to eat duck.'
'What cinerea?' The Master Tutor bridled. 'The cinerea is a mythical creature! Indeed, your lack of knowledge disappoints me. Truly, I am amazed
'I know,' interrupted Geralt. 'I lose a great deal of my charm when one gets to know me better. Nevertheless I will permit myself to correct your theories a little further, Master Pitt. So, aeschnae have always lived in the Delta and continue to do so. Indeed, there was a time when it seemed that they had become extinct. For they lived off those small seals-'
'River porpoises,' corrected the Master Tutor. 'Don't be an ignoramus. Don't mistake seals for-'
– they lived off porpoises and the porpoises were killed off because they looked like seals. They provided seal-like skins and fat. Then, later, canals were dug out in the upper reaches of the river, dams and barriers built. The current grew weaker; the Delta got silted up and overgrown. And the aeschnae underwent mutation. It adapted.'
'Huh?'
'Humans have rebuilt its food chain. They supplied warm-blooded creatures in the place of porpoises. Sheep, cattle, swine began to be transported across the Delta. The aeschnae learned in a flash that every barge, raft or barque on the Delta was, in fact, a large platter of food.'
'And the mutation? You spoke of mutation!'
'This liquid manure' – Geralt indicated the green water – 'seems to suit the aeschna. It enhances its growth. The damn thing can become so large, apparently, that it can drag a cow off a raft with no effort whatsoever. Pulling a human off a deck is nothing. Especially the deck of one of these scows the Company uses to transport passengers. You can see for yourselves how low it sits in the water.'
The Master Tutor quickly backed away from the ship's side, as far as the carts and baggage allowed.
'I heard a splash!' he gasped, staring at the mist between the islets. 'Witcher! I heard-'
'Calm down. Apart from the splashing you can also hear oars squeaking in rowlocks. It's the customs officers from the Redanian shore. You'll see them in a moment and they'll cause more of a commotion than three, or even four, aeschnae.'
Boatbug ran past. He cursed obscenly as the little boy in the feathered hat got under his feet. The passengers and messengers, all extremely nervous, were going through their possessions trying to hide any smuggled goods.
After a little while, a large boat hit the side of the barge and four lively, angry and very noisy individuals jumped on board. They surrounded the skipper, bawled threateningly in an effort to make themselves and their positions seem important, then threw themselves enthusiastically at the baggage and belongings of the travellers.
'They check even before we land!' complained Boatbug, coming up to the witcher and the Master Tutor. 'That's illegal, isn't it? After all, we're not on Redanian soil yet. Redania is on the right bank, half a mile from here!'
'No,' contradicted the Master Tutor. 'The boundary between Redania and Temeria runs through the centre of the Pontar current.'
'And how the shit do you measure a current? This is the Delta! Islets, shoals and skerries are constantly changing its layout the Fairway is different every day! It's a real curse! Hey! You little snot! Leave that boathook alone or I'll tan your arse black and blue! Honourable lady! Watch your child! A real curse!'
'Everett! Leave that alone or you'll get dirty!'
'What's in that chest?' shouted the customs officers. 'Hey, untie that bundle! Whose is that cart? Any currency? Is there any currency, I say? Temerian or Nilfgaardian money?'
'That's what a customs war looks like,' Linus Pitt commented on the chaos with a wise expression on his face. 'Vizimir forced Novigrad to introduce the ius stapulae. Foltest of Temeria retaliated with a retortive, absolute ius stapulae in Wyzima and Gors Velen. That was a great blow for Redanian merchants so Vizimir increased the tax on Temerian products. He is defending the Redanian economy. Temeria is flooded with cheap goods coming from Nilfgaardian manufactories. That's why the customs officers are so keen. If too many Nilfgaardian goods were to cross the border, the Redanian economy would collapse. Redania has practically no manufactories and the craftsmen wouldn't be able to cope with competition.'
'In a nutshell,' smiled Geralt, 'Nilfgaard is slowly taking over with
its goods and gold that which it couldn't take with arms. Isn't Temeria defending itself? Hasn't Foltest blocked his southern borders?'
'How? The goods are coming through Mahakam, Brugge, Verden and the ports in Cidaris. Profit is all the merchants are interested in, not politics. If King Foltest were to block his borders, the merchants' guilds would raise a terrible outcry-'
'Any currency?' snarled an approaching customs officer with bloodshot eyes. 'Anything to declare?'
'I'm a scholar!'
'Be a prince if you like! I'm asking what you're bringing in?'
'Leave them, Boratek,' said the leader of the group, a tall, broad-shouldered customs officer with a long, black moustache. 'Don't you recognise the witcher? Greetings, Geralt. Do you know him? Is he a scholar? So you're going to Oxenfurt, are you, sir? With no luggage?'
'Quite so. To Oxenfurt. With no luggage.'
The customs officer pulled out an enormous handkerchief and wiped his forehead, moustache and neck.
'And how's it going today, Geralt?' he asked. 'The monster show itself?'
'No. And you, Olsen, seen anything?'
'I haven't got time to look around. I'm working.'
'My daddy,' declared Everett, creeping up without a sound, 'is one of King Foltest's knights! And he's got an even bigger moustache than you!'
'Scram, kid,' said Olsen, then sighed heavily. 'Got any vodka, Geralt?'
'No.'
'But I do.' The learned man from the Academy, pulling a flat skin from his bag, surprised them all.
'And I've got a snack,' boasted Boatbug looming up as if from nowhere. 'Smoked burbot!'
'And my daddy-'
'Scarper, little snot.'
They sat on coils of rope in the shade of the carts parked amidship,
sipping from the skin and devouring the burbot in turn. Olsen had to leave them momentarily when an argument broke out. A dwarven merchant from Mahakam was demanding a lower tax and trying to convince the customs officers that the furs he was bringing in were not silver fox but exceptionally large cats. The mother of the nosey and meddlesome Everett, on the other hand, did not want to undergo an inspection at all, shrilly evoking her husband's rank and the privileges of nobility.
The ship, trailing braids of gathered nenuphars, water lilies and pond-weed at its sides, slowly glided along the wide strait amongst shrub-covered islets. Bumble bees buzzed menacingly amongst the reeds, and tortoises whistled from time to time. Cranes, standing on one leg, gazed at the water with stoical calm, knowing there was no point in getting worked up – sooner or later a fish would swim up of its own accord.
'And what do you think, Geralt?' Boatbug uttered, licking the burbot's skin clean. 'Another quiet voyage? You
