The story is changing too, and I think it’s for the better. I was going to skip over his training to become a mercenary, but he’s making some important friends and it’s going to help the story later on.
I’m well over halfway done, and there’s a ton more story to tell. My plan is to keep working on it after NaNo is over, but the road to hell is paved by good intentions and life has a habit of interfering when you least expect it.
The scene I have for you today is more about Nairn and Therza, who raised Brand after his mother died, and took him to Witch Hills to be with his mother’s family after his father died.
Nairn and Therza had settled in the town of Boven on the Witch Hill border. Therza plied her trade as herb wife, something she was not able to do when they were living in Alandria, while Nairn became weapons master to the local lord, teaching his young sons the way of the sword.
Their life together was happy enough, though they both worried about Brand. Therza worried about the possibility of him picking up the more undesirable customs of the Witchers, while Nairn worried that he hadn’t been more straight forward in his warnings in regards to Orin.
The letters that passed between Brand and Therza were reassuring, however. Nairn had had half suspected that Brand would be moved to quarters outside of the palace – though his royal status entitled him to Sharina’s quarters, his half-blood status was frowned upon. But thankfully they left him where he was. King Theron himself had taken an interest in Brand’s education, and as long as he kept his interest Brand would be safe from any interest Orin might have in him.
A year after they settled in Bovan they had a son, and two years later a second one. Though comfortable enough, they wanted something better for their sons. They talked often of migrating northward to the farmlands, to try their hand at a more pastoral life.
It was well they started to save as well as talk, for the choice was forced upon them. Nairn had a falling out with the lord – his sons complained of their lessons. They found them too difficult but the truth as Nairn saw it was the boys were lazy and unmotivated. The novelty of having a true Witcher instructing his sons had long since worn off, so the lord dismissed Nairn, evicting him from the house he and his family had been living in all this time. They had two weeks to gather their belongings and be gone.
Brand and Kel arrived three days before the family was to depart. One of the boys had become ill and Therza needed to watch over him so she was unable to help Nairn pack up their things. As a result, they had three days left and half a household to dismantle.
Brand was a little nervous as he stood outside the door he was told belonged to “the Witcher and his wife,” a little unsure of his welcome. It had been six years since he’d seen the man and woman who’d raised him, who were more kin to him than his own blood. The journey here had taken the better part of six months, and it had been two months before that since he’d last written to Therza. He had not thought, nor had he had time, to send a message to them, telling them he was leaving Witch Hills.
“Are we just going to stand here until the sun sets, or are we going in? Or have you changed your mind?” Kel asked.
Shooting him a dark look, Brand squared his shoulders and then rapped sharply on the door. He relaxed somewhat when there was no answer. Perhaps they were not home.
“Try again,” Kel urged.
With a sigh, he rapped again.
This time there was the sound of footsteps and the door opened. A weary looking Therza greeted them.
“Yes?” she asked. Nairn was looking after the boys while she started to dismantle the kitchen.
She had put out the word that her services as an herb wife were no longer available, but there was still the odd customer or two who sought her skills. But usually they ones familiar with her work, the two at her door were strangers.
Brand took in the sight of her. Therza did not look much older than she had when she left, although she was looking tired. He hoped he was not disturbing her.
“You wish something?” she asked, a little impatiently.
Brand reached up and slowly removed his face covering.
“Oh!” she said. “Oh!” Laughing and crying, she enfolded Brand in her arms.
He hugged her back, lifting her off her feet.
“You’ve grown so tall!” she exclaimed. “Oh, it is so good to see you,” she said when he set her down again. “Come in, come in. No sense giving the neighbours something to gossip about.”
“What is all this commotion? I just got the boys to sleep,” Nairn said, entering the main room of their small house. “Brand!” he exclaimed. In two strides they met in the middle of the room where Brand was once again pulled into a bone jarring hug.
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