The sun has been scorching for most of the day but now it had hid behind thick rain clouds in the distance, providing some much needed reprieve. Aedans wrists were still sore and burning from the tight ropes strapped behind his back. Every time the horse took a trot ahead a jolt of pain rushed through his head. The blood above his eye had dried fast in the bright sun. Stripped of weapons, bound, surrounded by Orlesians.
I might be alright with this in a certain context.
He got their names listening to them speak to each other. Some in Orlesian some in Common tongue. The leader, they called him - Constance De Roche. By his last name and formal address most of the time, must be a lordling as Aedan suspected; posture, arrogance, entitlement it was all worn on his sleeve.
One of the knights in his employ was a tall, lanky, tanned man. No hair, no beard and a stoic, somber face. They called him Michel. Didn't talk much, when he did speak up he expressed concern of Montsimmard and their pace of travel. Second knight was often by Michel's side, conversing in Orlesian. Michel stayed quiet throughout the conversations letting his friend do the talking. The chatty one was a bulky, brutish man; strong jaw, a mustache and untidy light hair hanging over his eyes and ears. This one's name was Basier. Big mouth on this one, made some jests at the Warden as they traveled with their bound prisoners. Wonder if he would have as big of a mouth if I had a blade at hand.
The last knight a woman, although it would be hard to tell at first glance. Athletic, built like a man almost. Face didn't do any favors to show her femininity - rough, strong chin and jaw and that constant bitter look on her face, like she was keeping a slice of lemon under her tongue. Thin, short, brown hair slicked back. Not the most inviting personage, even in this group. She was, however, the only one to address their leader by his first name while he called her by hers - Roberta. The two other men, mockingly called her Bella. She didn't seem to mind, or at least her look of contempt never changed. She was also the only one to have her hand on her hilt at all times, always at the ready and Aedan could feel her vigilant gaze as she trotted few paces behind.
His squire's horse was right next to his, trotting in a sad unison, surrounded by their captors. Devin was constantly looking down, afraid to look at any of the knights or the Warden.
"Devin, if you distract these three knuckleheads I could disarm and knock out the lass pointing a blade at me seeing..."
"Shut it Fereldan dog!" Constance intervened from up front.
Aedan continued, "...seeing as they don't seem too bright."
"I said shut it!" He turned his head to look at the Warden this time, flustered.
Aedan turned to the knight this time "You do know you are in for a surprise once we reach Montsimmard."
He laughed in response "Oh, well in that case let us unbind you and send you on your way. I am sure you will be no trouble at all."
"Ooh, sarcasm. You know they say sarcasm comes easy to intelligent people. You must be an outlier."
Basier let out a hearty chuckle but quickly stopped when Constance shot a nasty look at him.
"Looks like your men don't respect you much. Why don't you unbind me and put a sword in my hand. You Orlesians take duels seriously don't you. Earn some respect maybe?"
"You are trying my patience traitor!"
There it is again. Traitor. Are they really after me or are they hunting down another warden. Neither seems likely; for a bunch of Orlesian knights to be out here in the middle of a war, searching for a Warden.
"Just what do you think I have done?" Aedan inquired.
Constance was getting visibly more flustered, like a confused boy given reigns of command. The inexperience was showing. His reddish face turned towards the warden as he stopped his horse and the rest of the entourage followed.
"That is it Fereldan dog! Gag him and if he speaks up again cut his fucking tongue out." He shouted out furiously at his followers and the Warden. The serving knights stood in shock for a second at this outburst, then Michel trotted towards Aedan's horse and bound his mouth with a rag quietly as the rest exchanged some heated words in Orlesian.
They kept on riding for hours just off the Imperial Highway, seemingly trying to avoid the main army movements and detection. The signs of war could still be seen in the distance. Shouts of terror, song of steel clanging against steel, bellows of smoke scattered in the dim greying sky.
Aedan tried to listen to what his captors were talking about, but most of it was in Orlesian and what he did understand was bawdy stories from Basier and worried comments about the civil war.
Devin was still within himself, head down deep in thought or perhaps trying to disconnect from the unfortunate situation. It appeared as if he was listening, same as Warden, trying to figure something out but still afraid to speak up or do something.
All I need is an opportunity, just one bloody opportunity. Bound and gagged like a fucking animal. At this point I am starting to think whoever sent the bastards to capture me were actually looking for me. Tensions between Orlais and Fereldan have been high strung even after we finished off the darkspawn threat. A counselor and friend to King Alistair would be a prized captive to any Orlesian family, the question is who would be so bold to carry out with this plan. During a civil war no less, or perhaps that's what they are using to their advantage. I hate politics. How I ever managed staying in Denerim for nearly a year is beyond me. Facilitating between Anora, Alistair and Eamon, getting them to agree on anything; what a bloody nightmare. From what I hear of the capital the situation hasn't changed much but they keep up the facade of stability at least. Alistair wasn't much for politics either but I think he has got the hang of it, its in his blood.
Wonder if the King and Queen are still as awkward in private as they were before. 'The most celibate royal couple' they will call them. To be forced into marriage through duty to your country, to your family - that was destined for me too. Delilah Howe, oh how she despised me when we were young. 'A foolish, brazen mutt' she called me. I hated her family for so long after Rendon, thinking of the bastard still wrenches my guts. I hated them just because they were Howes, until I met Nathaniel. He was much like myself, lost in family memories and hatred of those who wronged him. I wasn't sure why I spared him when I did, why I let him join the Wardens. Maybe I thought he would die during the joining. I later realized it was because I gave him the same chance Duncan gave me - a chance for a life and a family.
The band rode into a small path in between trees scattered with corpses of soldiers. Broken, slashed armor, missing limbs, blood splattered and seeping into the dirt. Some looked like they were crushed by their own horses as they fell, bad way to go. Warden saw a dagger about fifteen feet away, unsheathed lying in the dirt as one of the dead soldiers arms was reaching for it.
Last ditch attempt to fight, didn't work out for him, might for me.
As the horses rode past the dagger, Warden shouted out in pain through the rag bound around his mouth and forced himself tumbling off the horse to the right, towards the dagger, shoulder first to lessen the impact. He heard a sword being unsheathed behind him. He landed and quickly shifted on his back looking for the dagger with his hands bound behind him, while feigning pain.
Come on you bastard… Got it!
The Orlesians were off their horses, two of them watching over the squire who was watching the situation. Aedan slipped the blade under his coat and deftly tucked it into his belt.
"Get up!" Constance commanded, sword drawn.
Warden just looked at the man above him with a quizzical look.
"I didn't catch that. Cat got your tongue?" The knight laughed at his own joke, the two men copied their superior. Roberta remained un-amused and roughly pulled the warden up by the front of his coat.
"I hear your kind rode griffins once? Maybe you all fell off them too?" Basier quipped, letting out a hearty laugh.
"Do you need help getting back on the horse?" Constance asked him extending his hand mockingly. "Roberta, why don't you help our mighty warden get back on the horse. Maybe tie him to it, he has trouble riding it seems." The two knights chuckled again.
Oh he was having fun with this. The smirk on his face, petty and arrogant. If only I had a bloody sword I would correct that grin for him.
"Enough Constance." Roberta responded calmly while helping the warden back on his horse.
"You don't tell me when it is enough! Understand? You are here only because my mother wanted you to be here, and you are under my command!" His tone shifted again, anger, almost contempt.
They have a history these two for sure. Could use it later, stoke the fires if need be.
Roberta did not respond, just shot him a look and got back on her own horse. Everyone followed, sheathing their swords. Back on the road. Aedan felt much more comfortable now, a dagger and a plan.
Once we stop for the night we are getting away. They will take shifts to watch over us of course, might be tricky. At least I have control of this again, as tiny as it may seem.
As the sun set the rain clouds moved in and a light drizzle began. It's going to be a rainy night. The horsemen set up a camp just off the trail in a small clearing amidst the dense Heartland woods. A small fireplace was gathered and soon the knights began rifling through the Wardens bags and belongings, while him and his squire got tied to opposite sides of a tree, ten feet from the fireplace, covered from the rain by the foliage above them.
Aedan pushed the rag off his mouth and whispered to his squire. "Devin. I am going to cut the bindings off when they go to sleep. One of them will stay up, so we will have to be fast. You run towards the trail and try to make it on the Highway, I will run into the woods. Meet me at the nearest town on the road. Did you get all that?"
A slight pause, then he spoke up in a hushed but determined tone "I got it. You can count on me. I won't let you down ser."
"Good. Try to go for a blade as you escape but don't make it a priority. They won't chase you, it's me they want for whatever bloody reason."
"Could they be after you because of, you know, your connections in Fereldan, commander?"
"Could be that, could be they are looking for another warden."
"If that is the case, is it wise to go to Montsimmard? The Wardens there might be compromised."
The kid has thought about it, and it was a valid concern. This calling I sensed, I wonder.
"Don't overthink it Devin, alright? Let's just make it to the next town with our heads on shoulders."
"Alright...ok." He said, more worryingly this time.
"You'll do fine kid. Consider this your first official adventure. It gets easier after this."
They quieted down after that, watching as the knights inspected the warden's possessions: weapons, potions, elixirs, seasonal clothing, a fair bit of gold; all gathered for a long journey.
Ah, the noble chevaliers poaching through their captives belongings, how charming. They pocketed some gold and grabbed some of the weapons, all but Roberta did. Whatever is she doing with this group?
She was the first to take watch. The whole time vigilantly watching the prisoners. Very dutiful, disciplined like a bloody Qunari, couldn't cut the ropes with her on the watch.
"How did you get here my lady? You don't seem to be enjoying what you do very much." Aedan asked, with a slight smile on his face, trying to get a reaction. None was given, she just sat there with her hand gripping the hilt of the sword as the fire crackled in between them.
"A dame such as yourself should be holed up in some Orlesian castle with..."
"Shut. Up." She interrupted calmly but sternly with bitterness in her voice. He had got under her skin with that.
She is of noble birth, but now is out here working for some lordling. Maybe her parents had married her off and she went her own way? Wants to become a chevalier for honor.
"You think your parents approve of your career choice?" This time she did not respond, just looked at the warden with cold dead eyes, her posture shifting more aggressive as she gripped the hilt even tighter. Not only angry, despondent, like he had torn open an old stitched wound. That was all too familiar to him.
She got up and marched towards the warden, hand on hilt still. As she bent down, she fixed the rag around his mouth again. As Roberta turned back to her place and said "Go to sleep. Long day tomorrow." Stern voice again.
She sat there vigilantly while Aedan caught some shut-eye, until Michel woke up to take the watch. He began reading a book shielding it and his head with a coat as he hunched over on the sitting log. Not sure what book, some sort of romance novel by the looks of the cover.
That will do it. Should keep him pre-occupied.
Warden started subtly sawing the ropes with the dagger clutched between his back and the tree. The wind was picking up as well as the rain. It was now pouring so hard, the umbrage was not helping at all. The dirt under him turned to mud rather quickly and the tree bark got viscid. The dried blood began washing down and getting into his eyes as his long hair stuck to his face rather annoyingly. The rope binding his wrists was off now, only the rope binding him to a tree remaining. A few minutes later it was loose enough to be snapped with one cut of the dagger. Warden unbound the rag with his mouth again and whispered, his voice masked by the sound of rain hitting on the shrubbery and the puddles. "Devin. You up?"
"Yes. Are we going now? That knight - Michel he is still up."
"Someone will always be up. This one is reading a book and..."
Thunder echoed through the forest above.
"...and he won't be quick to react. He is ten feet away, wearing armor and drudging through muck in the dead of night. He will be lucky if he sees what direction we run." He shot a quick, careful look towards the reading knight to see if he was still preoccupied.
Still reading, good.
"Next strike of thunder the rope will snap. Run towards the road. Don't look back, use the trees for cover. Got that?"
"Ok...ok, I am ready." Devin answered his voice shivering, either from the cold or fear.
Seconds felt like minutes now, Aedans heart was beating faster, adrenaline building up. He saw a flash of light pass through the skies.
Here we go.
Thunder followed right after and the rope was snapped with one deft dagger move. Aedan swiftly got up, getting the feeling back into his legs, taking a quick glance back to make sure Devin was on the run. So he was.
Off towards the road, good.
Michel got up and shouted out "Get up! They are escaping!" As he drew his sword, throwing the coat and book down into the dirt.
Time to leg it.
Aedan ran down into the woods, away from the road, avoiding the branches and roots as best he could. He heard the Orlesian shouts and chatter, glancing back smaller lights began emanating from beyond the leaves, torches. "Get the Warden! That way!"
Good. They are going after me. At least the kid is safe. I have to lead them on for at least a while, give him some time to make it to the road, get his bearings. If they lose me too fast they will get on the road.
He made sure to slow down, keep them in eye-sight. Wasn't hard with the four torches scattered behind him, frantically searching the woods. "I see him! There! Monsieur de Roche!" They sped up now, moved faster. Aedan had to pick up the pace, zig-zag in between the trees. The dirt was slippery, almost running down the slope of the hill. It was hard to be dexterous and elusive and not lose balance, even as he had the advantage of not wearing plate armor like his pursuers.
Pace your breath, focus on the ground. Shit! They are spreading out, surrounding me.
An eerie crackle rung out through the woods, somewhere ahead of him or above? Like thunder but muffled. His focus stayed on the pursuers. He continued down the hill, right up until he reached the edge of a near-vertical drop of flowing mud, moss and tree roots. Nearly lost his footing. Couldn't see much down there, beyond the foliage and the dark of night.
Andrastes ass! Steep drop down there. Have to hide, bide my time, maybe get through them by force. Will be tough against four armored knights, with a single dagger.
He hid behind a tree nearby, still hearing the Orlesian chatter behind him as the lights danced ever closer. He could hear the iron steps in the mud now, clanging of the armor and the drizzle of rain against it.
One man, getting close.
"Monsieur! I lost him!" voice of Michel, five feet from the tree, to the right. Aedan threw a piece of bark in a nearby bush to his right as he spun to the left around the tree and behind the pursuing knight. The dagger swiftly found his neck, just above the plate, cut clean through. The warden used his other hand to disarm the knight as he gargled blood in his throat, attempting to speak something incoherent. He pulled the blade out, spatter of blood shouting out of the dying man's neck, now armed with a sword as well as a dagger. Shouts from behind, not too far away.
"Michel!" Aedan turned back to see the burly man, Basier charging him through the muck and punching away the branches out of his way. "You fucking mutt!"
Aedan stepped out of the way of the swinging morningstar, retaliating with his sword at the back of his enemy. Clanged off the armor. Movement from behind, another knight swung a blade as Aedan brought up his dagger to block the sword. Looking back he saw Roberta. Constance ran up at the same time, now surrounded by three knights and the steep fall at his back.
"You will die here now Warden. In the mud. Still going to pretend you are innocent?" Constance shouted at him filled with rage and righteousness.
Arrogant little shit.
The same strange crackle sounded out as before, as a dim flash of greenish light shined from behind the warden.
The knights got distracted for a brief second and Aedan used the opportunity. He stepped forward in a stabbing motion towards Constance. Parried. Basier used the opportunity to strike. Aedan barely spun away from the vicious swing, as the mace grazed his shoulder. Constance retaliated with an overhead, stepping forward but lost his footing in the mud or a root, came tumbling towards the ducking warden knocking him off balance as well.
Blood rushed into his bowels as the feeling of free-fall overcame him suddenly stopped as his back hit the mud below and he began tumbling down the dirt slope. Orlesian shouts from above growing dim and distant. He banged against some hardened roots and rocks, losing grip on the sword. He heard Constance's gasps of pain as he was tumbling down next to him. The fall ended as quickly as it began. The disorientation engulfed him as Aedan was getting up to his knees, gathering his bearings, wiping the muck and rain off his face.
Another crackle from behind, much closer now, a flash of light. Aedan looked towards Constance who was about ten feet away, up on his feet and drawing his blade looking towards the shimmering green light. "Maker's mercy!" He exclaimed almost prayer-like.
Warden shifted to his feet, dagger still in hand, looking towards the source of the light.
A green, luminescent streak of light was hovering mid-air. Like a scar, like it did not belong. It shifted in the air unnaturally and malevolently, crackling with every move. The rain was almost avoiding it, curving around the shape of the aberration.
Magic? A kind I haven't seen before, that's for sure.
Within a moment the magical scar, burst open, transforming into a sort of magical drapery, shifting ever so slightly, flowing like a bed-sheet in the wind. As it did, smaller tears began forming around it, behind the bushes within the trees, seemingly molding with the surroundings. He heard the two other knights coming down the hill slowly now.
"Constance!" Roberta called out, as she saw the tear "What in Andraste's name is that?"
"Fucking demons!" Basier shouted, pointing towards the newly emerging creatures from the green, shimmering scars.
Dark, shadowy beings began eerily creeping towards them. Covered in mismatched rags and made of rotting, purplish flesh. Black smog forming in and around them, no legs to carry their floating visages.
Shades. I remember the bloody things. Spread throughout the Fereldan Circle of Magi like a plague. Those were spawned of mage summonings. These ones seemed different, more feral perhaps, as they menacingly and maniacally moved towards their prey, like wolves drawn to blood. No mage to speak of either.
Two of the demons shifted towards Aedan, letting out ghastly, inhuman moans. The other two engaged Constance. The other two knights moved over to help the man, as he nervously raised his sword in defense. Aedan dodged out of the way of a shadowy claw jutting towards him, making a quick slash with the dagger. Black, viscous almost smoky blood poured from the creature in front as it remained unfazed, as if it did not feel the pain. Couple more dodges pushed Aedan further back from the glowing tear and the knights desperately fighting off the demons, more of them began appearing from behind the trees, pouring from the air itself, like puss from a wound. The knights were getting surrounded now and suddenly the two shades attacking the Warden turned around and glided towards the tear.
This is my chance, let the bastards die and I can escape.
Aedan ran towards the steep slope of the hill and began climbing it, grasping at the roots. Rain was still pouring heavily, making the mud slide down the steep hill and making it difficult to keep balance. He glanced back, watching Constances' near lifeless body being dragged by one of the shades behind a bush. He clawed at the dirt, whimpering, letting out a horrified scream as the demons claws dug into his back.
"Constance!" A female voice shouted out in desperation.
Warden kept climbing. He heard another screech of pain, the big hefty knight being torn apart by three other shades, tearing through armor like rags. Roberta was on her ass, backing up through the dirt, swinging her sword wildly, desperation and fear in her voice as she shouted out with every slash. The shades were slowly and carefully engulfing her.
A gut reaction flashed through him, like a kick to the stomach. "Shit." The warden let go of the roots jumping down the hill, softening his fall with a roll.
"Hey!" He whistled as loud as he could. "Get up, run! They can't get far away from the fucking scar!" Now shouting at the knight. She looked at him for a brief moment with disbelief and surprise. Warden ran towards the shades, grabbing the dirt covered mace, next to the torn apart body of Basier, swinging at one of the shades, giving Roberta time to act. She quickly got back to her feet fending off the shades with wild arcing swings, keeping them at bay and slowly backed off. Both warriors disengaged to opposite sides, shades slowly following looking for opportunity to strike. Several feet later, staring down the demons in front of them, they began crackling with green energies, and let out ghastly, painful moans. They turned around and glided back towards the scar once again.
Aedan couldn't see Roberta anymore, just the faint glow of demonic green energy, shimmering through the leaves in the distance.
He made it up the slippery cliff. Looking to the left he saw Roberta make it up the side of the cliff, grunting and panting. As she noticed the Warden, she got up into a stance, sword drawn, pointing at him.
"You are still our... my prisoner. Lay down your weapon." She commanded, still gathering her breath.
Warden exhaled heavily.
What in Andrastes ass? She has got to be the most stubborn woman I have seen. Maybe I should have left her to die down there.
Better to just let her lead me to Montsimmard, but on my terms this time.
He spun the morningstar and dropped it in the dirt.
"I will come to Montsimmard, willingly." He looked at the knight sternly, thinking for a bit, awaiting her response. She watched him carefully, studying him for a moment.
"What game are you playing Warden?" She snapped at him, almost bewildered.
"No games. We find my squire, ride towards the city and I face the Wardens there. Isn't that what you were after?"
I'm not sure what they were after anymore.
Her eyes moved towards the bled out Michel not far away from them. He bled out slowly, trying to crawl, stop the puncture in his throat. "You killed him. You lead us all to die and now you say you will come peacefully?"
"Do I look like a bloody mage to you? I had no idea there were demons in the woods. And your friend… I acted on instinct. You kidnapped me at swordpoint, what were you expecting?"
She narrowed her brows, not letting eyes off the warden.
"You will answer for this. If not for betraying Wardens, then for Michel's and Cons..." her voice broke down, "I was supposed to protect him!"
"You did all you could. The demons would have killed you as well if you had stayed."
Roberta steeled herself again hearing wardens voice. "I don't need your sympathy."
The magic down the hill crackled again.
"Let's talk about this away from a pack of demons."
"Move ahead, and I am watching you warden."
They slowly made it back to the camp. The rain did not let down for a moment, pouring and weighing on Aedan's clothes as his feet sank in the mud. Roberta behind him was murmuring something under her breath in Orlesian, a prayer perhaps for the fallen.
That won't do them any good. They are just sacks of meat and bone now, food for the wolves. Prayers for the dead. If the dead could hear us they would despise the living.
The camp was dark now, only few charred embers remained in the campfire. Aedan moved to grab his bags. Some of the weapons and potions were taken by the knights, most remained. He pulled out two swords and went to sheathe them on his back as Roberta interrupted. "Hey! No weapons warden."
"You will have to either trust me or kill me, either way my blades stay with me." He responded with conviction in his voice, he's had enough of being disarmed. It felt like missing a limb, naked, undefended.
She had an unconvinced, bitter and stern look on her face. "I could have left you to die, I could've fought you afterwards. I didn't. Now come on, put the blade away, it will rust in the rain." He attempted to be light-hearted, probably not the best time.
She thought for a moment and loosened her stance. Didn't put the weapon away.
She wouldn't.
They gathered the bags and mounted their horses, unsaddling the other four and letting them go. The two cloaked and hooded riders got back on the path heading towards Montsimmard. No words were exchanged for a long time and the rain did not stop until the sunrise.
A fresh morning warmth engulfing the road, after-rain freshness filling the air, birds chirping from the trees. A new day. Aedan feasted on a piece of dried jerky, not glamorous but it will do. He had forgotten of simple travel food during his years at Vigil. An arl had servants, cooks, luxury and with the blights gone it was a peaceful, calm life. For a while at least. The darkspawn don't rest.
A chill went up his spine, mind tingling. He closed his eyes for a moment, instinctively.
Skittering teeth. White, cat-like eyes glowing in the dark, darting side to side. Movement. We are running, where? Back into the cave, to the dark, away from the sun and the peering eyes.
He opened his eyes, blinking to clear the brief vision. He turned his head slightly, to address his reluctant companion. "Darkspawn over in a cave somewhere in..." He pointed ahead, west of the path "...that direction. If we are passing through the valley ahead, we might get jumped."
Silence. Finally she responded. "We can get back on the highway. Might run into Duke Gaspard's men."
"Is that an issue for you?"
"No. It should be fine... now." The last word came out feint and doleful.
They turned off the beaten path, towards the Imperial Highway. Better than dredging through the forest in between. They eventually trotted on cobbled stone for a change. The highway was in disrepair from ages of use and abuse, a ruined relic of the Tevinter Empire. Now it endured another war. The tales it would tell if it could.
They came across a band of soldiers; five men on foot wearing the colors of the Duke, military patrol by the looks of it. One of the men raised a hand to stop the travelers. "Where are you headed?"
"Montsimmard." Warden responded.
The soldier looked them up and down, no doubt noticing their sullied, worn clothing. "You look like you wrestled a bear in the mud." His compatriots chuckled.
"What do they call it, a quick roll in the mud? Quite literally in this instance." He glanced back at Roberta, with a soft smile. Her face reddened with affront more than embarrassment as she clenched her jaw as to not say anything.
The soldier looked the woman up and down silently, looked back at the Warden and laughed heartily with his comrades. "Well, you Fereldans sure know how to pick them. On your way then." The soldiers let out some whistles at them passing by, exchanging some japes and laughs.
"I did not mean to sully your honor. The story was strange enough for them to believe."
"Just keep riding. We are not far from Verchiel." Roberta snapped back dismissively.
Her fervor is certainly admirable if nothing else.
By the evening the city of Verchiel was in sight, but it wasn't a sight either of them expected. Cities walls were surrounded by military tents, trebuchets and siege equipment, bustling with soldiers. Verchiel was under siege. Aedan looked at Roberta to gauge her reaction, she seemed befuddled.
Shit, the kid was supposed to wait for us here. He wouldn't have walked straight into the siege to ask around some Orlesian knights. He is smarter than that. He must have moved on towards Montsimmard, that's the only option.
"I will assume you didn't know that the city we were to stay the night was under attack?"
"It is the Black Lions city." The knight answered matter-of-factly.
Gaspard. Most of his army has moved north, towards Val Royeaux no doubt. Still, it is quite the feat to besiege a city so far into your enemies lines. It will take a long time to actually end the siege and storming a city of this size will take many lives. How will the duke respond I wonder, send his armies back, or wait it out?
"I believe we will be spending the night on the dirt once again my lady." Aedan gibed. No response from the knight as she studied the battlements, deep in thought.
"Something troubling you my lady?"
She turned to face him "Would you stop calling me that?"
"I apologize. I had thought to make up for all the times you had not been called such." Aedan continued mockingly. Not a sign of emotion on her face, other than stern contempt.
Roberta clicked her tongue to get the horse moving and took the lead off the Highway to avoid the besieged city. They spent the night in a camp. Any attempts from Aedan to break through to her, asking about her past, were promptly shut down.
This continued for two more days as they rode towards Montsimmard, making minimal stops on the road, rarely bothered by anyone. The roads were near empty as the trade was cut off due to the siege, no caravans or even patrols. Some signs of battle could be noticed in the distance, nothing that would be troubling to the two riders.
Troubling to the men and women fighting a pointless civil war perhaps. At the very least they don't spill each others blood during a blight, as the darkspawn breath down their necks. The betrayal at Ostagar still haunted him sometimes. Not as much as it haunted Alistair, he had lost a brother and a father that day. That's where it all began, and now we are here, amidst another bloody war.
As days had gone by, the sight of Montsimmard was a welcome relief. Up on a hill, amidst groves and woods, farms and orchards stood a grand city with blue and white walls made of delicately crafted stone. Its multi-colored rooftops were glistening from afar above the city walls. The wealthier mansions and castles could be seen from far away, among them a grey tower with a large silver griffin perched on top - the Wardens headquarters. Unlike the last city, this one seemed very much at peace, untouched by the civil war. The walls and towers surrounding it, however, seemed fortified and prepared for an attack.
As the two travelers rode closer to the main gates, the bustle at the entrance was noticeable. Traders and refugees, shouting and chanting for entry into the city. Arguments in Common and Orlesian tongue all around, disputes and pleas for mercy. Apothecaries were taking care of the wounded peasants and soldiers along the dozens of cots and tents stationed around the city gates. Cries from children and moans of pain could be heard throughout. Chaos of war. The riders gently pushed through the crowd of peasants seeking entry and approached the guards holding off the displeased protesters.
"Refugees? Deserters? Either way no haven here for the likes of you." a gruff man wearing a helmet responded, clearly fed up with what must be every-day routine.
"Roberta de Roche. I have returned with a Warden." She responded sternly but with hints of shame, on behalf of the warden or herself, he could not tell.
De Roche? Was she Constances... well shit.
The guardsman looked her up and down, scoffed, turned around and made a spinning motion with his finger to the man in the gate-towers. The mechanisms clicked loudly and the portcullis raised slowly, as the guardsmen shouted down the crowd in front of them, pushing them back to avoid bloodshed. The two riders were let past the gates into the bustling city.
Aedan turned to his companion, "I didn't know that..."
"It's not what you think Warden. Find your squire and we must meet with Marquise. She will want to see the man who took this much effort to find." She interrupted, with bitterness in her voice.
This is going to get much more difficult before it gets simpler.