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- Анджей Сапковский
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- Ведьмак: Кровь эльфов
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- Стр. 5/356
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"
What
did
he
do
to
me
?
What
happened
?
What
did
he
...
do
to
me
?
"
"
Who
?
"
"
The
knight
...
The
black
knight
with
feathers
on
his
helmet
...
I
ca
n't
remember
anything
.
He
shouted
...
and
looked
at
me
.
I
ca
n't
remember
what
happened
.
Only
that
I
was
frightened
...
I
was
so
frightened
...
"
The
man
leaned
over
her
,
the
flame
of
the
campfire
sparkling
in
his
eyes
.
They
were
strange
eyes
.
Very
strange
.
Ciri
had
been
frightened
of
them
,
she
had
n't
liked
meeting
his
gaze
.
But
that
had
been
a
long
time
ago
.
A
very
long
time
ago
.
"
I
ca
n't
remember
anything
,
"
she
whispered
,
searching
for
his
hand
,
as
tough
and
coarse
as
raw
wood
.
"
The
black
knight
--
"
"
It
was
a
dream
.
Sleep
peacefully
.
It
wo
n't
come
back
.
"
Ciri
had
heard
such
reassurances
in
the
past
.
They
had
been
repeated
to
her
endlessly
;
many
,
many
times
she
had
been
offered
comforting
words
when
her
screams
had
woken
her
during
the
night
.
But
this
time
it
was
different
.
Now
she
believed
it
.
Because
it
was
Geralt
of
Rivia
,
the
White
Wolf
,
the
Witcher
,
who
said
it
.
The
man
who
was
her
destiny
.
The
one
for
whom
she
was
destined
.
Geralt
the
Witcher
,
who
had
found
her
surrounded
by
war
,
death
and
despair
,
who
had
taken
her
with
him
and
promised
they
would
never
part
.
She
fell
asleep
holding
tight
to
his
hand
.
The
bard
finished
the
song
.
Tilting
his
head
a
little
he
repeated
the
ballad
's
refrain
on
his
lute
,
delicately
,
softly
,
a
single
tone
higher
than
the
apprentice
accompanying
him
.
