Sword of Destiny (The Witcher, #0.7)

by Andrzej Sapkowski

“Tell me a story.” He laughed again, put his hands under his head and looked up at the stars twinkling beyond the branches above their heads. “There was once… a cat,” he began. “An ordinary, tabby mouser. And one day that cat went off, all by itself, on a long journey to a terrible, dark forest. He walked… And he walked… And he walked…” “Don’t think,” Ciri mumbled, cuddling up to him, “that I’ll fall asleep before he gets there.” “Keep quiet, rascal. So… he walked and he walked until he came across a fox. A red fox.” Braenn sighed and lay down beside the Witcher, on the other side, and also snuggled up a little. “Very well,” Ciri sniffed. “Say what happened next.” “The fox looked at the cat. ‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘I’m a cat,’ said the cat. ‘Ha,’ said the fox. ‘But aren’t you afraid, cat, to be roaming the forest alone? What will you do if the king comes a-hunting? With hounds and mounted hunters and beaters? I tell you, cat,’ said the fox, ‘the chase is a dreadful hardship to creatures like you and me. You have a pelt, I have a pelt, and hunters never spare creatures like us, because hunters have sweethearts and lovers, and their little hands and necks get cold, so they make muffs and collars for those strumpets to wear.’” “What are muffs?” Ciri asked. “Don’t interrupt. And the fox went on. ‘I, cat, know how to outwit them; I have one thousand, two hundred and eighty-six ways to outfox those hunters, so cunning am I. And you, cat, how many ways do you have?’” “Oh, what ...