plunged with a smack into the monster's algae-ridden armour as it surfaced. Geralt caught hold of the shaft, pressed down on it, bounced forcefully away, brought his free leg in and kicked the aeschna violently. He tore himself away from the spiked paws, leaving his boot, a fair part of his trousers and a good deal of skin behind. More fishing spears and harpoons whizzed through the air, most of them missing their mark. The aeschna drew in its paws, swished its tail and gracefully dived into the green depths.
Geralt seized the rope which fell straight onto his face. The boathook, catching him painfully in the side, caught him by the belt. He felt a tug, rode upwards and, taken up by many hands, rolled over the railing and tumbled on deck dripping with water, slime, weeds and blood. The passengers, barge crew and customs officers crowded around him. Leaning over the railings, the dwarf with the fox furs and Olsen were firing their bows. Everett, wet and green with algae, his teeth clattering, sobbed in his mother's arms explaining to everybody that he hadn't meanl to do it.
'Geralt!' Boatbug yelled at his ear, 'are you dead?'
'Damn it…' The witcher spat out seaweed. 'I'm too old for this sort of thing… Too old…'
Nearby, the dwarf released his bowstring and Olsen roared joyously.
'Right in the belly! Ooh-ha-ha! Great shot, my furry friend! Hey, Boratek, give him back his money! He deserves a tax reduction for that shot!'
'Stop…' wheezed the witcher, attempting in vain to stand up. 'Don't kill them all, damn it! I need one of them alive!'
'We've left one,' the customs officer assured him. 'The bald one who was bickering with me. We've shot the rest. But baldy is over there, swimming away. I'll fish him out right away. Give us the boathooks!'
'Discovery! A great discovery!' shouted Linus Pitt, jumping up and down by the barge side. 'An entirely new species unknown to science! Absolutely unique! Oh, I'm so grateful to you, witcher! As of today, this species is going to appear in books as… As Geraltia maxiliosa pitti!'
'Master Tutor,' Geralt groaned, 'if you really want to show me your gratitude, let that damn thing be called Everetia.'
'Just as beautiful,' consented the scholar. 'Oh, what a discovery! What a unique, magnificent specimen! No doubt the only one alive in the Delta-'
'No,' uttered Boatbug suddenly and grimly. 'Not the only one. Look!'
The carpet of water lilies adhering to the nearby islet trembled and rocked violently. They saw a wave and then an enormous, long body resembling a rotting log, swiftly paddling its many limbs and snapping its jaw. The bald man looked back, howled horrifically and swam away, stirring up the water with his arms and legs.
'What a specimen, what a specimen,' Pitt quickly noted, thrilled no end. 'Prehensile cephalic limbs, four pairs of chelae… Strong tail-fan… Sharp claws…'
The bald man looked back again and howled even more horribly. And the Everetia maxiliosa pitti extended its prehensile cephalic
limbs and swung its tail-fan vigorously. The bald man surged the water in a desperate, hopeless attempt to escape.
'May the water be light to him,' said Olsen. But he did not remove his hat.
'My daddy,' rattled Everett with his teeth, 'can swim faster than that man!'
'Take the child away,' growled the witcher.
The monster spread its claws, snapped its jaws. Linus Pitt grew pale and turned away.
Baldy shrieked briefly, choked and disappeared below the surface. The water throbbed dark red.
'Pox.' Geralt sat down heavily on the deck. 'I'm too old for this sort of thing… Far, far too old…'
What can be said? Dandilion simply adored the town of Oxenfurt.
The university grounds were surrounded by a wall and around this wall was another ring – that of the huge, loud, breathless, busy and noisy townlet. The wooden, colourful town of Oxenfurt with its narrow streets and pointed roofs. The town of Oxenfurt which lived off the Academy, off its students, lecturers, scholars, researchers and their guests, who lived off science and knowledge, off what accompanies the process of learning. In the town of Oxenfurt, from the by-products and chippings of theory, practice, business and profit were born.
The poet rode slowly along a muddy, crowded street, passing workshops, studios, stalls, shops small and large where, thanks to the Academy, tens of thousands of articles and wonderful things were produced and sold which were unattainable in other corners of the world where their production was considered impossible, or pointless. He passed inns, taverns, stands, huts, counters and portable grills from which floated the appetising aromas of elaborate dishes unknown elsewhere in the world, seasoned in ways not known elsewhere, with garnishes and spices neither known of nor used anywhere else. This was Oxenfurt, the colourful, joyful, noisy and sweet-smelling town of miracles into which shrewd people, full of initiative, had turned dry and useless theories drawn little by little
from the university. It was also a town of amusements, constant festivities, permanent holidays and incessant revelry. Night and day the streets resounded with music, song, and the clinking of chalices and tankards, for it is well known that nothing is such thirsty work as the acquisition of knowledge. Although the chancellor's orders forbade students and tutors to drink and play before dusk, drinking and playing took place around the clock in Oxenfurt, for it is well known that if there is anything that makes men thirstier than the acquisition of knowledge it is the full or partial prohibition of drinking.
Dandilion smacked his lips at his bay gelding and rode on, making his way through the crowds roaming the streets. Vendors, stallholders and travelling charlatans advertised their wares and services loudly, adding to the confusion which reigned all around them.
'Squid! Roast squid!'
'Ointment for all spots'n'boils! Only sold here! Reliable, miraculous ointment!'
'Cats, mouse-catching, magic cats! Just listen, my good people, how they miaow!'
'Amulets! Elixirs! Philtres, love potions, guaranteed aphrodisiacs! One pinch and even a corpse will regain its vigour! Who'll buy, who'll buy?'
'Teeth extracted! Almost painless! Cheap, very cheap!'
'What do you mean by cheap?' Dandilion was curious as he bit into a stick-skewered squid as tough as a boot.
'Two farthings an hour!'
The poet shuddered and spurred his gelding on. He looked back surreptitiously. Two people who had been following in his tracks since the town hall stopped at the barber-shop pretending to ponder over the price of the barber's services displayed on a chalkboard. Dandilion did not let himself be deceived. He knew what really interested them.
He rode on. He passed the enormous building of the bawdy-house The Rosebud, where he knew refined services either unknown or simply unpopular in other corners of the world were offered. For some time his rational mind struggled against his character and that
desire to enter for an hour. Reason triumphed. Dandilion sighed and rode on towards the university trying not to look in the direction of the taprooms from which issued the sounds of merriment.
Yes, what more can be said – the troubadour loved the town of Oxenfurt.
He looked around once more. The two individuals had not made use of the barber's services, although they most certainly should have. At present they were standing outside a musical instrument shop, pretending to ponder over the clay ocarinas. The shopkeeper was falling over himself praising his goods and counting on making some money. Dandilion knew there was nothing to count on.
He directed his horse towards the Philosophers' Gate, the main gate to the Academy. He dealt swiftly with the formalities, which consisted of signing into a guest book and someone taking his gelding to the stables.
Beyond the Philosophers' Gate a different world greeted him. The college land was excluded from the ordinary infrastructure of town buildings; unlike the town it was not a place of dogged struggle for every square yard of space. Everything here was practically as the elves had left it. Wide lanes – laid with colourful gravel – between neat, eye-pleasing little palaces, open-work fences, walls, hedges, canals, bridges, flower-beds and green parks had been crushed in only a few places by some huge, crude mansion constructed in later, post-elven times. Everything was clean, peaceful and dignified – any kind of trade or paid service was forbidden here, not to mention entertainment or carnal pleasures.
Students, absorbed in large books and parchments, strolled along the lanes. Others, sitting on benches, lawns
