When I produced the will, Ma worked out pretty fast what had happened to Carver. Thanks to Anders, his injuries didn't look that bad once we dragged him home and Ma let me off with a few dire warnings about leading my brother into trouble. She didn't want to see another child die.
As for the will itself, I was ready to rearrange Gamlen's teeth when we found out the extent of his lies. He'd fleeced us on the entire inheritance and then had the brass balls to lose everything he stole. He was probably lucky Carver was confined to bed when we had that conversation.
Ma didn't get angry though. What mattered to her was that her parents had still loved her, and I guess that is the most important thing. At least, that's what I tell myself. It was good to see a smile on her face. We could have made a claim on the house; it wasn't legally Gamlen's to lose after all, but we didn't have the money for that kind of fight, and the people who owned the place now weren't the type to be good sports about it either. We might as well have owned a house on the moon.
Anders dropped by to check on Carver, and when Ma found out he was working for free she decided to repay him by trying to put some meat on his bones. She took to inviting him over for dinner, and sending him away with sandwiches and baked things. It didn't hurt that he was obviously appreciative.
Gamlen said the place was turning into a zoo.
I said at least we all knew who the monkey was.
Anders was an odd bird. He started showing up at our house a lot, and first I figured he'd just fallen for Ma's cooking, but he spent most of his time in my office. Talking. No matter how pointedly I rustled my paper, the man just kept on.
"There needs to be a revolution, Trip. Mages deserve the right to live as any other man. The sacrifices your family has had to make on your behalf could all be avoided. It's the working class that suffers the most when a mage is born into their midst."
"Anders, I'm trying to read the funnies and it's real hard to laugh when you're beating your gums about the browncoats. I don't like 'em either, but there's nothing I can do about it."
To my surprise he actually snatched the paper out of my hands and glared down at me. "Don't you think this is more important that your comics? You're proof that mages aren't dangerous."
"We are dangerous. Give me back my paper or I'll prove it."
He didn't. "But we can control it. If we didn't have to spend our entire lives hiding or locked up in a Circle, mages wouldn't feel forced to use blood magic."
I was considering whether throw a punch or just wrestle for the paper when we were interrupted. Luckily for my sanity, and Anders' nose, I got my first client that morning. She was looking for her missing cat. I wasn't too proud to go and look for it.
To my surprise, Anders seemed real keen on going along. So, we spent the morning chasing tail. We found a cat that was close enough to the original to satisfy my client, but Anders managed somehow to acquire half a dozen more in the process.
He had them in a cardboard box in the kitchen and was feeding them milk from our cold box.
"What are you planning on doing with all of those? You ain't gonna eat them are you?"
"Trip! How could you suggest such a thing? I'm going to find homes for them." He smiled so lovingly at them I lost the heart to argue. He took them back to his clinic and gave them all lousy names, but at least they gave him something to talk about besides his imaginary revolution.
Like I said, he was an odd bird.
That Saturday Carver was feeling well enough to complain constantly about not being allowed out. So I rubbed his nose in it and went out. I strolled downstairs to visit Varric and found Anders trying to get him to display some pamphlets in his shop.
"You give them away for free," the mage was explaining.
"I can't go giving things away for free, Blondie. Think what it would do to my reputation."
"Hawke." They both turned to me to back them up.
"Fellas, it's a lovely day out. How about a trip to the country?"
"Why? Are you homesick for the smell of pigshit?"
I didn't rise to Varric's bait. "I have a promise to keep." I waved the round object I had in my hand at them.
"What is that thing?" Anders asked.
"It's a film. Like in the cinema."
Varric leaned back in his chair with a grin and steepled his fingers. "Sounds like there's a story here."
I sat on the edge of Varric's desk and lit a cigarette. "Aveline won't be here for a while yet. I've got time to tell you what really happened when we left Lothering."
We'd almost left it too late. The darkspawn were swarming across the country from Ostagar and nothing could so much as slow them down. Lothering was a smoking ruin, and we were running with little more than the clothes on our backs. The ogre had killed Bethany, and we were moving slower and slower as Wesley's injuries got worse.
We could see flak bursting in the sky above us, and there seemed to be a constant stream of darkspawn soldiers appearing from the east. Carver had his rifle still but he was running low on bullets.
We staggered over a small hill, and on the other side, between us and freedom, was an enemy column. It seemed to stretch on forever; marching darkspawn, motorcycles and trucks. They hadn't seen us at first and we hit the ground, watching in horror. Carver didn't dare fire his rifle so close to so many of them, and left me to deal with the scouts.
I was exhausted and my arms were bloodied to my elbows. A mage can only do so much. Eventually, one of them got away. Carver risked shooting, but it was too far and he missed. We looked at each other, and we knew we hadn't made it. There were just too many of them.
We were digging in for a last stand as the company of darkspawn marched up the hill towards us when I heard this sound.
With an indescribable clatter, an aeroplane swooped down out of the leaden sky. It was a biplane, painted bright red. Carver said it wasn't one of ours, but it wasn't darkspawn either. We flung ourselves flat as the pilot opened up with the guns and tracer cut down the darkspawn like wheat before a scythe. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.
The darkspawn were firing back by this time, and the pilot flung the plane up in a turn so steep I was sure it was gonna stall and then made another pass. I saw a couple of grenades fall before the guns opened up again.
I'd say it took no more than thirty seconds for that entire company to be wiped out.
We got to our feet, waving and cheering; figured if they were friendly maybe they'd direct some help our way, whoever they were. To our surprise, the pilot picked a free stretch of road and landed.
Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't what I saw. The pilot climbed down to talk to us; no uniform, but dressed like pilots are, with the fleecy jacket and all. It wasn't an outfit I'd pick to wear on a date, but the curves she filled it with would tempt a Chantry priest.
"Wait, so the pilot was a woman?"
"Dammit Blondie, don't interrupt at crucial moments. Keep going, Trip."
She walked towards us with a kind of strut like she owned the whole battlefield. I guess she did. I'm pretty sure my jaw was hanging. She pulled off her leather helmet and goggles, and tossed a mane of white hair halfway down her back.
"Well well," she said. "What do we have here?" She had a voice like nothing I'd ever heard before; it made me think of aged red wine cut with powdered glass.
She told us she was Flemeth; the legendary Witch of the Wilds. Or rather, we figured she was one and the same. It turned out she'd seen the dead ogre, and wondered what had happened. I think there was more to it though; she gave the impression she knew a lot more than she was telling.
In the end, we made a deal. She'd help us to the coast, and in exchange we'd take this film to a Dalish village up Sundermount way. To be honest, we'd been so busy in the Red Iron that I'd plain forgotten it. I figure it's a debt that needs paying.
Needless to say, Varric and Anders were in.
Aveline turned up right on time, like she always did. There aren't words to describe Aveline. I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have made it out of Lothering if it weren't for her help. She's a cop, Maker help us. She wasn't in a good mood about it though; they don't let many skirts into the uniform, even in this day and age, and she was always getting light duties and asked to type up paperwork. We all knew they were wasting her talents.
But she gritted her teeth and stuck with it, and on the odd occasion they let her off the leash she took out her frustration on those that deserved it. Today she was off-duty.
Sundermount wasn't a great distance from Kirkwall, but it was definitely too far to walk. There was some traffic, and we eventually hitched a ride with a farmer returning from markets. The back of his pickup smelled like hooch. None of us mentioned it although Aveline wrinkled her nose.
It was good to get out of the city, away from the reek and into fresh air. We bounced around uncomfortably in the back of the pickup while Varric told stories and we speculated on what might be on Flemeth's reel of film. Horse came with us, and while the jalopy laboured up the steep roads around the Wounded Coast he bounded along behind, his tongue flapping as we waved our hats and shouted encouragement to him.
We should have saved our breath.
Our ride ended halfway up Sundermount, and the road was deserted.
"Why couldn't she have picked a village at the bottom of the hill?" Anders asked, his pale skin already showing signs of sunburn, and his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.
"Come on." Aveline started striding up the slope and we followed, shedding our jackets and carrying them over our shoulders.
I dunno if this Dalish village even had a name. I didn't see a sign when we finally staggered into it. It was all old weatherboard farmhouses in need of a lick of paint and clapped-out pickups. It didn't look like they got visitors often; half the population turned out to gawk at us, and a couple of elves gave us a traditional friendly greeting by telling us to get lost.
"We ain't the law," I said, casting a sideways glance at Aveline. "We're just here to make a delivery and then we'll be on our way."
"They're not even going to offer us a drink?" Anders asked plaintively.
"Wait, maybe he was the one the Keeper spoke of. She's been expecting you." With that, we were given permission to stand on their dirt and breathe their air. That's country hospitality for you.
The Keeper was much friendlier, but she still didn't offer us a drink. She refused to actually accept the can of film.
"You must take it further up the hill. My first needs to complete a ritual. Then your debt will be paid."
Further up the hill. Figured.
We followed the track up from the village, not sure what we were looking for. What we found was one of the sweetest dolls I've ever seen. She was perched on the grassy bank beside the road, her head shaded by a pink parasol with little fringes around the edge. She was obviously dressed in her best, in a green skirt and a short-sleeved shirt with matching cloche hat, from under which peeked brown curls and those long ears elves have. All the other elves we'd seen had been dressed for the farm. I dunno what she was dressed for, but there wouldn't be a fella alive who wouldn't have wanted to escort her there.
When she heard us coming, she scrambled to her feet.
"Oh, you startled me. I didn't see you coming. You must be the one the Keeper told me about. I'm sorry; I didn't get your name. Unless it's rude to ask a human their name. I've never met a human before. I'm Merrill, and I'm rambling, sorry."
"I'm Trip Hawke," I interrupted her. "It's nice to meet you Merrill. These are my friends." She was like a wild animal I half expected to flee at any moment. One of the cute wild animals I mean, the kind with a fluffy tail and big eyes.
The others introduced themselves and I produced the film from the canvas bag slung over my shoulder.
"So, do we give this to you?" I asked.
"Oh, no not yet. We have to go a bit further."
A bit further turned out to be a lot further. Eventually we ended up going through a cave, in which were stored barrels with dubious contents. It made me wonder if the Dalish bothered to grow anything but corn anymore.
We weren't alone. An elf was there, and he relaxed only a bit when he saw Merrill was with us.
"I see the Keeper finally found someone to take you away, huh?"
Merrill raised her chin defiantly, "Don't worry, I'm not staying long."
He shouldered past us with a contemptuous look. Varric looked at me and shrugged.
"I'm sorry, you're not seeing the Dalish at their best," Merrill said.
"Is it something we should be worried about?" Aveline asked.
"No, it's fine."
"How about them then?"
I followed Aveline's gaze. From somewhere deeper in the cave were emerging four rather unhappy looking elves.
"You! You're not supposed to be here," Merrill said, "please leave."
They sized us up.
"Do you really think the shem would bother to get involved with this?" one of them asked.
"Why don't you try us and find out?" I suggested.
"It's all right, I can handle this," Merrill said. Personally, I had my doubts.
She stepped forward, parasol in hand, and with a whisper of steel against steel she drew a long blade from the handle. Varric whistled low; he appreciated unusual weapons. I was still prepared to step in and rescue our elf though. She gave the elves a few moments to approach her, and I could see Aveline readying a rescue as well, when Merrill extended her blade with a yell and a bolt of lightning leaped off the tip. The spark jumped, my ears popped, and I could smell the acrid taste of burning hair. The elves recoiled, yelping.
"I said to leave!" Merrill said, and I could sense the charge gathering again. Twitching and smouldering, the elves ran for it.
"You're a mage," Anders said. Merrill just smiled. "You shouldn't have done that! How do you know we won't turn you in to the Templars?"
"You're completing a task for Asha'bellanar, so why would you?"
"She's got a point," I said.
"As for you," she stepped up to me. "You thought I couldn't defend myself, didn't you? Is it because I'm a woman?"
"It's because you were one against four. Besides, it's natural for a fella to protect a girl."
"Oh Hawke," Varric and Aveline groaned in unison.
"What? What did I say?"
"Have you ever met a feminist?" Merrill said, folding her arms. "Never mind that, you have now."
I was a bit lost. "So who were those fellas?"
"Just a local feud. Nothing to worry about." Merrill then smiled up at me, "But it was awfully nice of you to offer to help."
We ended up at a farmhouse near a large green field. The place was deserted.
"No one lives here," Merrill explained. "But we have a machine that will play the film."
"Good, I was hoping I'd get to see what I've been carrying around for all these years."
In the front room was a machine under a dustsheet, facing the blank wall. Merrill uncovered it and took the film. It was a complicated process, and we waited patiently while she fed it into the machine, and adjusted the lenses. We drew the curtains, and Merrill supplied some magic to power the projector. We stared at the glowing white rectangle on the wall, waiting for the show to begin.
I found myself staring at a swamp. Nothing happened for a good minute or two, and then Flemeth walked into shot, still dressed like an aviator. She looked directly at the camera, and then walked towards it. To be honest, I wasn't that surprised when colour flooded the picture and she stepped right off the wall and into the room with us.
"Ah, and here we are."
"Asha'bellanar," Merrill bowed low before the witch.
Flemeth's voice was crawling up my spine, just like it had in Fereldan. I didn't really mind.
She turned and looked at me, those pale gold eyes boring into mine. "So refreshing to meet someone who keeps their promises. I half expected my film to end up in a pawn shop."
I shook my head, "I do what I say I will."
"That makes you quite dangerous, I'm sure."
"What are you going to do now?"
"Neither of us will want for things to do."
"Will I see you again?" I asked.
She looked at me with a funny smile tugging at her painted lips, "Would you like to?"
"Well, yes." I gave her a roguish grin. I could see Merrill staring at me with wide eyes from the corner of my eye. Not showing enough respect to 'Asha'bellanar' I guess.
What can I say? I've always had a thing for danger.
She threw her head back hand laughed. "Bold. I like that. Perhaps we will, boy."
She addressed Merrill again, "It is time for me to go. Do you have what I require?"
"Yes." Merrill bowed again.
Flemeth led us out of the house, and Merrill hurried to the barn. She started unlatching the doors at the end, and we went to help while Flemeth looked on.
The barn didn't house hay, or even a still.
The cloth draped over it couldn't disguise the shape of the aeroplane sitting in the barn, its nose pointing down the length of the grassy area.
"Where did you get that?" Varric asked, staring up at it as we pulled the covering off it.
"We made it, of course," Merrill said.
"Out of what, empty tins?"
"Out of canvas and wood and-"
"I think he was being rhetorical, Merrill."
Flemeth settled her cap and goggles onto her head and climbed into the machine. At her direction, I swung the propeller and the engine rattled to life. We hurried out of the way, and watching in respectful silence as she sped down the length of the field and soared into the clear blue sky.
We walked back to the village in a kind of stunned silence.
"So, um, there's just one more thing," Merrill said. "I'm going back to Kirkwall with you. That is, if you don't mind. I can't stay here."
I raised an eyebrow, "You realise you'll be an apostate. The Templars will capture you if they find you."
"I know. I'll be careful. I don't really have any other choice. And …and I want to go." She stared at me with those huge green eyes. "I can give you a lift back, if you like."
That got my attention. "Wait, you've got a car?"
"Did you build it as well?" Varric asked.
"No of course not," she said. "We bought it with all the money we make from the corn liquor. We've made a fortune since prohibition."
"Don't tell me that!" Aveline said pressing her palm to her forehead. "I should confiscate your car. It's the proceeds of a crime."
"Oh please don't."
"Not until we get back to Kirkwall anyway," I pointed out.
"Fine. I'll pretend I didn't hear."
Merrill hurried off to get her bag and her car, which turned out to be Model T, and we all squeezed in. Aveline sat up the front, while I was wedged in between Anders and Varric, with Horse sitting on my lap. We returned to Kirkwall as the sun was setting. We rattled down deserted roads, raising a plume of white dust behind us, the wind in our hair.
"Today's been really, really, absolutely wonderful," Merrill said, her eyes shining as she turned to look at us all.
"Eyes on the road!" Aveline reminded her.
"Oh right. But it's been so much fun, and you're all so nice to me."
"What a sweetheart," I said.
"Hrumph." That was Anders.
"Aww," I butted him with my elbow, "you're a sweetheart too."
Varric and I laughed as his ears turned pink and he muttered to himself. Merrill had missed our conversation, but joined in the laughter.
