Chapter 2
9:30 Dragon
City of Kirkwall
The Witch had kept her promise, guiding them through the thick ranks of darkspawn and into the Korcari Wilds that provided safety from the horde, but presented its own dangers. The travels through the Wilds and then Brecilian passage towards Gwaren had been long and exhausting, mostly so for their mother. She always tried to put up a brave face and push herself even harder not to slow the others down, but Riona was always careful not to overextend her. So very exhausted at the end of each day, their thoughts only on their own survival, the deaths of Carver and Wesley were for the time being pushed out of their minds.
At least they did not encounter any resistance on their travels, Flemeth true to her word ensuring their safe passage, and it was often they came upon corpses of terrifying beasts lying in their path, once stumbling into what had been a camp of werewolves, the beasts scorched to the last by the vengeful witch, making sure her retinue reached their appointed goal.
Once in Gwaren, they had experienced the odd stroke of luck, catching the very last ship to leave. Stocked full with desperate fugitives like themselves it would have left without them had they arrived a day later. Then came two weeks locked inside a dark hold, packed like sardines with the rest of the passengers, both Riona and Bethany suffering horribly from sea sickness as the Waking Sea chose to be particularly unruly during their travel. With barely any food and water and the conditions worse than in a pigsty, Riona was at times growing so desperate that thoughts of Carver being the fortunate one sometimes popped into her mind. Bethany seemed to suffer similarly, their mother and Aveline accepting the torturous conditions with more stoic grace.
Both sisters had slipped into a semi-conscious apathetic stupor, refusing to eat, having lost all hope, when finally someone up on the deck spoke words that rejuvenated everyone on board. The City of Chains was in sight! Hours later, they were allowed to leave the packed hold and step out on the deck to witness their arrival. It seemed as if they were sailing right into an imposing black wall of cliffs, and several of the fugitives started to panic from the frightening sight. But suddenly, a small crack in the wall opened to their eyes, a narrow channel, two massive statues flanking it.
The chain net between the two statues remained retracted, allowing them passage into the city interior, as Riona kept wondering whether it was these chains that gave the city its name or the metaphorical chains of millions of slaves that had passed through this channel during the ancient times of the Imperium. As they sailed through the channel, monumental cliff side carvings of strange creatures and idols appeared to their view, the kind they had never seen before.
"Stay your eyes from the vile sight of the Old Gods of the Imperium," their captain warned aloud. "It is only a matter of time before the good brothers of Chantry will erase those abominations from our view." Riona strained her eyes, looking at the cliffs despite the warning, and indeed, high up there she could see several workers, hanging from ropes and chiseling away at the heretic idols. It looked like a task for centuries, if not millennia.
It was not long after, that their ship stopped at the dock next to a grim stone fortress. Looking around, they could see the gigantic city resting above them, carved into solid rock, the upper tiers sporting more elaborate, delicate walls and mansions, the middle tiers housed buildings that looked no more than just blocks of stone, while the lower tiers looked like abandoned quarries and caves carved directly in the cliff face, but people still swarmed these desolate places like ants.
They were lead off the ship then, walking a difficult task in itself, their limbs having gone so stiff they could manage no more than hobbling. Smelling no better than the darkspawn they had fled from, dirty and ravenously hungry, they made their first steps on the ground of Free Marches.
"I remember this place," mother spoke. "I think it's the Gallows. We never came here ourselves, it was too disreputable, but we heard the stories... it was the heart of Kirkwall's slave trade in the ancient times."
Aveline pointed at the massive crowd of people, gathering in front of the fortress. "Lady Leandra," she said. "They are not letting anyone into the city."
"What? This can't be!" mother looked crestfallen. "Surely there will be a way!"
"They are all Ferelden refugees. I imagine the city inside is overflowing and can't take on any more," Aveline mused.
"But we have a good reason to be here, we have a family and estate, isn't that right mother?" Bethany asked, mother nodding in response.
"There must be people travelling through these gates with legitimate reasons like ours," Riona said. "I'm sure there will be guards who sort out who should be allowed inside and who shouldn't. We just need to find and talk to them."
It proved to be easier said than done, however. The thick crowd of people proved very resistant to budging and letting them through, it took a good while and generous amount of verbal and some physical abuse in form of elbowing before they made it to the front row and located the guardsman in charge. However, when they had explained their plight to them, the man merely laughed.
"A relative? Do you know how many times I hear that in a day?" he brushed them off.
"But it is true," Leandra, their mother, was adamant. "My brother lives here, and our family is well respected."
"Unless you can tell me the name and we can verify it, you're still not getting in," the guard said, beckoning Leandra to come closer.
Riona followed her mother closely, enough to overhear the name she left with the guard. "Gamlen Amell," she said. "He is my brother, and he will vouch for us."
The guard looked a little surprised. "I have heard of the name, indeed. Though, 'well respected' wouldn't be the words I would have used myself." He turned away, calling one of the younger guardsmen up to him. "Get that dirty rat Gamlen to show up here at the Gallows, it seems these good folk are his relatives. He's probably boozing at the Blooming Rose again."
"Thank you for doing as much for us, ser," Bethany offered quickly. "You could have turned us aside just as easily."
"Well, I do want to cut down on the size of this crowd, you know," the guard waved at the unruly mass of people surrounding them. The place did look like a blackpowder keg, waiting to go off in an explosion of violence. "My idea would be to load you lot back in the ships and sail you back to Ferelden, but the Knight-Commander has different opinion."
"Knight-Commander?" Riona asked suspiciously. "That sounds a lot like a templar title to me."
"Yeah, well, welcome to Kirkwall, where those damn blighters run everything, even the guard it seems," the guard said unhappily, then looking around with a mixture of fear in his eyes.
Riona also peered around, but it didn't seem like any templars were in sight. "They show up here often, do they?" she asked by the way of conversation.
"Well... they do lock up the mages right here," the guard made a gesture at the fortress behind him. "Figures they'd be hanging around, keeping an eye on them, right?"
"Lock up?" Bethany asked, her eyes darting around, making her look like a cornered rabbit.
"Don't you have Circle of Magi back in Ferelden," the guard was looking impatient by now. "That's what I meant by locking up. Anyway, I've chatted with you long enough as it is - get back and wait for your rat bastard of an uncle to show up."
With nothing else to gain from the conversation, Riona and the others fought their way back out of the crowd and returned to sit on the crates back at the pier.
"I don't like this," Bethany whispered to her, shivering slightly. "I feel like the eyes of hundred templars are locked on us. And they keep mages in this horrible suffocating prison?"
"The irony is rather harsh," Riona admitted. "The cells of slaves are now filled with mages. It sends a strong message."
"Let's not get caught and thrown in there," her sister said.
"Let's not," Riona agreed, trying to muster an encouraging smile.
With that, there was nothing left to do but sit and wait. Time from time some vendors emerged from the courtyard of the Gallows, accompanied by an army of guards, offering food and water at extortionist prices, also willing to barter for any valuables the hapless refugees had brought with them. Their gold used on purchasing the passage on ship, Mother's golden earrings bought them several loafs of stale bread and a jug of something that might have once been clean water. Careful not to eat too much after long period of starvation, Bethany still couldn't keep her food down, throwing herself down on the planks of the pier and making retching sounds. Hours later, as her little sister had curled into a ball and fallen asleep in her arms, Riona's fears about their fate started to grow in strength.
"We need to get inside," she said quietly, watching her mother slumbering against another crate, sparse bits of hay providing the only comfort. "They can't go on like this much longer."
Aveline placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. "We will. Fear not for your sister, she is as strong as you are, and so is your mother."
"They... they deserve so much better," a tear escaped Riona's eye.
"And they look upon you and think the same," Aveline said, her voice kind. "We are in this together. And we shall look out for each other."
"Yes, we shall... thank you Aveline," she whispered.
Soon, Riona was slowly about to drift into the dream world as well. With her desperation at the highest peak yet, she knew it was the time when the spirits of Fade would try and exploit her fears, her vulnerabilities, but even now, the girl realized she had to remain strong and resolute, the lessons of her father Malcolm always on her mind, even as she slept. When everything looks bleak and desperate, he had once said, someone will always try and offer a tempting easy solution to whatever problems you are facing. I tell you this my daughters - never trust these beings, for not a single deal the spirits offer you doesn't come with a hidden catch. Accepting it is as good as succumbing to the demons.
I wonder... how far would I need to be pushed before that easy solution becomes irresistible, was Riona's last thought before she drifted into an uneasy slumber.
Three days passed without any sign of their uncle Gamlen. Their spirits could not have sunken any lower by now. Mother seemed thinner and weaker with every passing hour, her eyes locked onto the gates leading into the Gallows, so focused she often did not hear Riona or Bethany addressing her. Her sister still had problems keeping the food down, and now Riona had exchanged the rings given to her by father for her twentieth birthday for more scraps of food. Things were looking increasingly glum.
Their living conditions outside the hold of the ship hadn't improved by much. Unable to suffer the filth covering their bodies any longer, they had taken turns swimming in the murky waters by the dockside, but it was debatable whether it made them any cleaner or not. The makeshift outhouses near the gates were not built with such influx of fugitives in mind and had been overflowing since their landing, the smell of it all driving them mad and most of the people now relieved themselves directly into the water, disturbing revelation after they had already washed themselves in the channel.
In the evening of the third day, finally their luck improved.
Mother, still eyeing the gates like a hawk, let out a choked cry, the meaning of which was unclear until she wildly gesticulated at a man walking down the dockside and towards the pier they had made into their little camp. Riona looked at the stranger in surprise, his simple linen pants and leather jerkin did not imply the kind of class she expected from her mother's tales. Was it perhaps the fashion of the Kirkwall nobility to look and dress the part of weasely looking peasants? Somehow, Riona doubted this.
The man approached them faster now, obviously recognizing their mother. "Leandra!" he exclaimed. "Old girl, the years haven't been kind to you, have they?"
"Gamlen!" Leandra embraced her brother with tears in her eyes.
Having returned the embrace, Gamlen looked at them all, appearing a little uncomfortable. "I must say, Leandra... I was not expecting this. With the family and three children, I figured you'd be Ferelden for life..."
"Oh, Gamlen... we left too late, and now my poor Carver is gone too," mother cried, her brother looking even more uncomfortable from the scene.
"By the Maker, Leandra... don't drop this on me now," he sighed. "I don't even know if I can get you all inside."
"But you will try, won't you?" Riona asked. Gamlen looked at her. "I am Riona, and this is Bethany..." she pointed at her sister. "Uncle Gamlen."
"Eh... well, you see, the knight-commander has been really cracking down as of late... I was hoping to grease some palms, but now it seems we'll be needing a lot more grease."
"What about the estate?" mother interrupted him. "Surely father left something!"
"Uh yes, about that..." Gamlen said, refusing to meet their eyes. "I'm afraid the estate is gone... to, eh, settle a debt. I've been meaning to write!"
Leandra leaned heavily against a crate, covering her face with her hands. "There is no hope, is there. You can't help us."
"Now now, don't despair just yet," Gamlen tried reassuringly. "There might be a way... if you're not too particular about the company you keep," he added enigmatically.
"Do explain," Riona urged, feeling alerted.
"I've talked to my contacts, and I have found someone who might be willing to pay to get you inside," her uncle explained. Then that shifty look in his eyes appeared again. "The catch is... you and your sister will have to work off that debt... uh, for a year."
"A year?" mother was shocked.
Riona suddenly felt as if she was caught in some kind of giant trap, with all exits closing in a hurry. Why oh why did we came here? This place is crawling with templars, and now Beth and I will end up being slaves for a year! Anything else would have been preferable. She did not say any of that aloud though. Mother did not deserve to feel guilty over it.
"Who are the people we would be working for, Uncle?" she asked instead.
"Her name is Athenril, I guess you could say she is a smuggler of sorts," Gamlen shrugged. "She's somewhat of a small fish compared to the other guilds around here, and I imagine it won't be pretty working for her, but one thing for sure - she is tough, fair and never deals in slaves or flesh."
"Why does she believe we would be of any use to her?" Bethany asked suddenly. "She'd be willing to pay that much gold for complete strangers?"
"Ah, about that..." Gamlen became evasive again. "Leandra wrote that her daughters were skilled apostates... I, uh, mentioned this to Athenril... that was the only way I could get her interested in you!"
"I am tempted to say 'Are you insane, what are you trying to do, hand us over to the templars?', but... I suppose what you say makes sense," Riona admitted grudgingly. "Do you mind if we discuss your offer for a bit?"
Gamlen just shook his head and turned to Leandra, as Riona took Bethany and Aveline aside. "What do you think?" she asked.
"Working for a smuggler seems dishonorable," Aveline said, her face scrunched in distaste. "But I suppose we are not in a great position for bargaining."
"Technically, the debt does not extend to you, so you'd be free to leave once we are inside," Riona said.
"I will stay and help you work off your debt," Aveline said resolutely. "Like I told you, we stick together."
"Thanks, I hoped you would say that," Riona smiled, then turning to her sister. "Beth?"
"I'll do whatever it takes, Ri. I'm just worried this Athenril doesn't sell us out to the templars once we're through working for her. But well, maybe she is honorable enough not to do so."
"I think we'll just have to take that gamble," Riona said. She turned around to address her uncle again. "Very well, tell your contact we accept their terms."
"Excellent, excellent," Gamlen seemed relieved. "I will go and speak with Athenril right away, and see if the bribes can be made. I imagine you don't want to spend any more time here outside the gates, but it will probably take a day at least."
"What is one day when we have come this far?" Aveline added.
"Oh Gamlen, I still can't believe you sold the estate," mother lamented, wringing her hands. "Even if we get inside, where will we stay? We have nowhere to go!"
"Well... there is my place in Lowtown," Gamlen admitted, looking as much wracked by guilt as a weasel of his stature could ever be. "It's not all bad, it is clean and not all that small, I can at least put you up there until you get back on your feet." He then stopped to retrieve a small package hidden inside his leather jerkin, before passing it over to Leandra. "Here, some food for you to survive until tomorrow; you lot look like you have been starving."
"Thank you Gamlen," mother said, still being unable to hide her disappointment.
"That was nice of you, uncle," Bethany smiled at Gamlen. Riona nodded in agreement.
"Well, I better get going," Gamlen cleared his throat, then hurrying off back towards the gates.
They stood for a while in silence, until mother started to work on distributing the rations Gamlen had smuggled to them. As Riona took a bite of bread that didn't have to be soaked in dirty water in order to be edible, she turned to look at the rows of copper statues surrounding the great Gallows fortress, hundreds of depicted slaves covering fearfully before their harsh Tevinter masters. She could not help thinking that one of those statues bore a haunting resemblance with her.
