DISCLAIMER: I base my stories on Intellectual Property (IP) owned by BioWare ™ and EA™. I pretend to live in their world.
SPOILERS: I refer to information from the games, the novels and the comics. If you have not played or read, please beware.
CHAPTER 2: WANDERING THE DRIFTING ROADS
Though all before me is shadow…
I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond.
Trials 1:16
Drakonis === Castle Cousland, Highever
"I need you to stay, Rogier. Watch him. Repair his mistakes, if you cannot prevent them. Allow him the illusion of being in control. Thomas needs to learn how to lead, but not at the risk of our foothold here." Howe stood still and jaw clenched. "Keep him sober. He has his mother's weakness for drink."
Rogier inclined his head slightly to acknowledge Arl Howe's instructions. Having served the Howe family all his life, he knew the Arl well. Rogier's mother, Selma, had been lady's maid to Arl Howe's mother, Livia, in the days when the Howe family bent knee to Orlais. The Arlessa had taken a liking to her maidservant's boy, and had him educated and trained to serve her son. Arl Tarleton had not objected. The boy's father Tarleton him well as a sergeant in his Vigilant Guard. Honoré Sancherre, an Orlesian, who had fled to Ferelden for reasons he did not disclose, had special skills Arl Tarleton valued. The old Arl suspected Honoré had trained as a bard, but had fallen out of favor with his master. The confusion of Occupied Ferelden provided an escape. Honoré proved useful and, as far as Arl Tarleton knew, loyal. Honoré passed on those skills of stealth, lock picking and, particularly, poisons to his son, Rogier. Since Arl Rendon's return from the Rebellion, Rogier had served him as a personal guard, performing whatever duties Howe might assign.
"And what of Tobias?" Rogier asked.
"Lieutenant Tobias understands you represent me. He will consult you, if he questions an order from Thomas." Howe's eyes narrowed. He stared at the rogue in fine, if worn, dragon scale armor. "You must persuade Thomas of the correct course of action, Rogier, if Tobias cannot. It's why you will stay with him. We must begin to profit from Highever. The mines, dye yards and cloth manufactories must continue to produce. The sheep must go to summer pastures, the colts must be trained and sold, and the farmholds, salt pans and fisheries must continue their growth. I may seek to create industry in lumber and charcoal. Gwaren may have more forests to support such trade, but fewer ships and a longer voyage. Highever is already the richest province in Ferelden. I intend to make it, and me, even wealthier." Howe paced in front of the hearth as he spoke. "We cannot move too quickly against the elves and mages. Cousland allowed the elves to participate in the businesses here. We must bring in others to take over the elven businesses. The elves will provide labor for our new ventures or be sent to Amaranthine to…um serve there. The Chantry will help with the mages, when I consent to discard the ancient agreement."
"Ancient agreement?" Rogier asked.
"Allowing Highever to have free mages. The Couslands, the Highever Chantry and their templars have expanded it over the centuries to make the Coastlands a haven for free mages from the Circle and for apostates. Both practice with little or no Chantry supervision." Howe smiled. "I admit, I used it to my benefit when I brought in my Tevinter friends. Demetrius qualified as a free mage at Vigil's Keep. Now, we'll find the most talented mages and apostates, and, after I have my pick, my Tevinter friends will take them away – at some profit to me. The least talented ones, we'll give to the Chantry, to do with as they will. I assume the apostates will become Tranquil and produce an income through their work with enchantments. The Harrowed mages will return to a Circle, although not to their friends at Kinloch Hold. Kirkwall, being the closest Circle in the Marches, may take them. The Chantry will find other assignments for the Highever clergy and templars. I think Grand Cleric Elemena will enjoy bringing Highever into line."
"I see. So elves and talented mages to Tevinter, except for those you choose to keep? The other mages to a Circle of Magi? All businesses in the hands of your friends? And the Chantry brings Highever back into the traditional fold."
"Like sheep to their shearing. As for the businesses, Lady Violante Marchand and Bann Esmerelle are ready to step in at my word to expand their holdings into Higheverport." Howe and Rogier smirked at each other, when Howe mentioned Marjolaine's alias. Rogier had discovered the bard's identity some years ago. His father had bequeathed him a few trusted contacts in Orlais. From them, he discovered the bard master's identity. It amused Howe to play her game and counter with his, while he pretended to believe her pose as a wealthy widow and merchant. Both he and Rogier suspected she knew, but that just made the game more fun. For now, it benefitted both Howe and Marjolaine. When it no longer did, well…things would change.
Howe continued reviewing his plans aloud. Rogier did not interrupt. "Some of the merchants and Guildmasters seem…flexible, as you've seen. When all has been ordered to my liking, the House Haris compound will shut down, even if that means favoring the Orlesians. I want no interference from Burke or Cousland relations in Nevarra. I agree with the late Teyrn Cousland. I support trade with Orlais if it benefits my people…and me. I don't support the mining agreement, helping Orlais develop its mines, or the marriages. I see no issue with trade."
Rendon Howe sat down at Teyrn Bryce Cousland's desk in the late Teyrn's study, which had been untouched by the blaze that rage through much of the castle. A sturdy coffer stood open. Howe sorted through documents and correspondence and placed selected items in the coffer. He smiled. "These will do nicely. It will appear that Bryce is making a pretense of representing Cailan's policies, while he makes secret agreements opening the North to Orlais and her chevaliers." He looked up and smiled at Rogier.
"That show of discovering and opening the hidden compartment you put on impressed the Higheverport Council, Mayor and Guildmasters." He chuckled. "Pretending you needed to force the door convinced them you had just found the hideaway." The fools think they watched us discover the documents proving Bryce a traitor. In truth, Rogier found it, picked the lock and removed the documents we found. Then we planted the forged documents incriminating Bryce and closed it up again.
How fortunate for us the Orlesian alliances had already disturbed some of the merchants. Fools are ever ready to confirm their worst fears. The guilds have ties to Nevarra and the Marches. They want nothing to do with Orlais. As long as they use other trading houses, they can continue to sell where they will. The miners think they were creating competition by teaching the Orlesians. They'll support us when we convince the Landsmeet to repudiate that treaty. With Bryce gone as a voice of moderation, Eamon Guerrin will show himself to be an Orlesian tool. Even King Cailan will distance himself from his uncle."
Rogier saw Howe smiling.
"Of course, if we can find a mage to teach the Guerrin brat and take care of Eamon, that would be all the sweeter."
Rogier continued to tap the wainscoting on the wall opposite Bryce's desk.
"You still believe there's another compartment?" Howe sounded annoyed.
"There must be. The room dimensions don't match the dimensions of this wing."
"Maybe it's just a quirk in the construction."
"Perhaps. I can find no access here, in the hallway or in the storeroom next door."
Howe stood, closed the coffer and locked it. "With the letters from the Higheverport's Guildmasters, Mayor and Council attesting to our discoveries, and the forged documents proving an Orlesian conspiracy, Loghain and even the Queen should be convinced of Cousland's treason. King Cailan will look inept, a fool tricked by his own Foreign Minister. He'll be angry, he'll recall Bryce's past opposition and believe the worst." Howe patted the coffer lid. "Rogier, you have no idea how satisfying this is. Bryce's head by the gate for all to see. Some of his own people accepting that he betrayed them and Ferelden. After 600 years, Highever is back in Howe hands where it belongs."
Rogier smiled, a rare occurrence. "Our fathers would be proud, My Lord."
Howe frowned. "Now if only we can find the girl and her mother. I still don't understand how they escaped. I thought we had the tunnel blocked." Leaning back in the chair, Howe put his interlaced fingers behind his neck. "You're sure there's no other passage off the main tunnel?"
"No. A few runes which seem to have no use, but no passage."
Howe stared at the ceiling for some time before looking back at Rogier. "I've wanted Eleanor Burke for a long time, but she will provide only personal pleasure. She spurned me for Cousland." His lips twitched into a sneer. "I will teach her the consequences of that mistake. The girl…she will solidify our claim when she bears Howe children. Having her with us, married to Thomas, will convince the Landsmeet to confirm my title. "
"You'll marry her to Thomas? I suppose that's the best way, but she's quite the little fighter, no?"
Howe sniffed. "She fancies herself a swordsm…well not man. Girl? Obviously the Highever guard indulge her. Yes, as a formality, I will see her married to him in Amaranthine. Although it hardly matters which of us gets her with child. It will be a Howe either way." He laughed. I'll let Eleanor watch, before I take her too. I may even let her live to see her grandchildren.
Captain Lowan knocked and entered when Howe said, come. "Still no word from Ostagar, Your Grace."
"No? Well, not surprising. They did not complete the muster until the 25th day of Drakonis. Probably still waiting for Bryce and me and wondering why we're late. We'll leave for the Vigil in the morning, Lowan. The Vigilant Shield will accompany us. Half the army will remain here to…um, pacify the Coastlands. Lieutenant Tobias has his orders?"
"Yes. He'll secure the surrounding area, now that the castle, keep and city are secure. He has patrols out searching for the girl and her mother. He's found some locals familiar with the trails, hunting camps and hideaways to the south and west."
"Good, good. I expect results soon."
"Your Grace." Lowan saluted and left.
"You expect to be in Denerim before the King and Teyrn Loghain return from Ostagar?"
"Yes. I have to decide what to do about Lady Philippa. She's of little import. I may let her live if she rejects the Orlesian marriage. The Queen will protect her and I've no wish to confront her just yet. Perhaps I'll convince the King to make me her guardian. She and Delilah are friends, after all. She can remain as one of Anora's ladies."
"Her father will fall at Ostagar?"
Howe looked up from the desk. "I expect so. Pity. He and Lord Fergus both dead on the field."
"Leaving nothing to chance. I like that..." Rogier's mouth quirked. "Your Grace."
Drakonis === On the Road in the Bannorn
Every Maker Damned day since she left the old hunting camp repeated the day before. Get up and eat, walk and cry, eat and cry, sleep a few hours, watch and cry, sleep a few more hours, wake up, cry and begin again. She tried not to think beyond the moment. She tried not to remember good times or bad. She tried not to worry about Fergus at Ostagar. She managed not to sob, but the tears flowed, unbidden, as she walked. She wondered if she would simply shrivel up and die as the salty flow continued unabated. Death by tears. She gave a hoarse laugh. Getting her sense of humor back, no matter how dark, should be a good sign.
The fertile Bannorn, with its farmsteads, pastures and orchards, provided only scattered cover in woodlots and forestland. Most villages stood in open country. Mel avoided open lands whenever possible, traveling through fields at night to get from one woodlot or forest patch to the next as she moved south. She sometimes found herself traveling east or west to maintain cover. Her caution slowed her progress.
Yesterday she and Shepherd remained trapped in a copse, while a farmer worked his field until dusk. The grey sky promised rain. He wants to get his planting done before it starts. Finally, he plowed the last row and turned his oxen towards home. As darkness fell, they walked across the furrows to the forest bordering its far side. This forest seemed to continue for some time. Frustrated, Mel stopped again to wait for dawn. Under the heavy cloud cover, no light penetrated the dense canopy. If she lost her bearings, they would lose time getting back on track. Not for the first time she wished for a compass that functioned in Thedas. For some reason, no Traveler had ever calibrated one. Waiting for first light was the sensible option. Used to moving with Highever Guard patrols at a brisk march, or even more quickly on horseback, she found this stealthy slog through the Bannorn disheartening. She wanted to get to Ostagar and find Fergus. She settled at the base of a tree, covering herself with her old waxed cloak, and tried to sleep.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The repetitive days of trekking through the Bannorn continued. They did not provide the distraction necessary to keep her tears at bay. Too often, she sat with time to think, as she had in the copse while the farmer worked. A few days later, she decided to venture into the next village for supplies. The rain had stopped, although clouds still pocked the sky. The dryer air allowed smoke haze to gather, providing evidence of something larger than a farmhold ahead. She hoped that the focus required to enter a village would divert her mind from its grim thoughts. When she came upon the village nestled into a stretch of forest along a back road, she decided to risk a visit. She hoped to enter quickly, make her purchases, and melt into the surrounding trees before anyone thinks to question her.
Mel watched the road entering the village from the south. She remained hidden at the edge of the trees. Shep and Mel had approached the village from the north, but continued past, staying under the cover of the forest. Anyone searching would expect look for her on the road from the north.
She shed her large pack, with its weapons and shield and now wore a smaller pack. Her cowl hung low over her forehead. Her braids, however, she pulled away from her face. The Lys that Howe knew did not have a facial tattoo. Mel did. She might as well show it. She thought it unlikely every bannorn village would have a description of her, but better to play it safe. Carrying only a bow and quiver, she would pose as a hunter who had strayed too far from her farmhold. She told Shep to stay and guard their gear. When a group of travelers passed by heading north, she crept out onto the road and followed them into the village.
If there were watchers here they would be searching for a girl, an older woman, and a mabari heading south. The girl, called Lys, would have long hair, a noble accent and proper manners. Mel, the free company mercenary, had messy braided hair streaked with blond, a Coastlands accent, a facial tattoo, and rough manners. She would trust her disguise to keep her undiscovered.
The people walking ahead of her appeared to be a family group. They all wore packs or carried large satchels. Fleeing the darkspawn in the south? They split up on entering the village. The older man, perhaps the grandfather, walked on to the smithy, which stood at the far end of the village, while the two women, possibly a grandmother and her daughter with a baby, went to a shop selling general goods. Two younger men entered the inn, which stood on the opposite side of the road next to a bakery. A wind mill, sails turning in the breeze, stood above the village on the bare hilltop. A few other townsfolk walked between shops. Several men sat on a bench outside the inn, dozing in the sun.
Not wanting to enter the shop with the other women, Mel followed her nose to the bake shop next to the inn. She realized bread would go stale after a few days, but even stale bread could thicken a stew. She did not expect to enter a village again until she reached Lothering. After buying several loaves, she looked longingly at the honey cakes, but selected some spiced cakes instead. Lys would buy honey cakes; Mel preferred spice. Finished, she headed to the store. As she hoped, the two women from the other group had completed their purchases. She passed them going toward the inn as she left the bakery.
Mel selected goodly amounts of dried fruit, nuts and jerky, adding some dried herbs and root vegetables for stews. She purchased a generous length of linen cloth. A piece of linen could be cut up to serve as a towel, bandages, a breast band, smalls, protection against a hot pot handle, a…well, the uses were myriad. Adding a length of flax line to make new bowstrings, some thread and a bar of scented soap, she piled the goods on the counter. She requested a large chunk of cheese from the wheel on the shelf, and had an empty skin filled with sweet cider. Counting out silvers and coppers from her coin pouch, she paid the storekeeper, stuffed the purchases in her pack, and left.
Hungry for fresh stew, Mel walked to the small inn. She planned to leave by a rear door to evade any watchers. It was still early in the day, and only a few patrons sat at the five tables scattered across the wooden floor strewn with rushes. A fire burned in a small hearth to her right, opposite the bar. Stairs to an upper floor rose along the rear wall. A doorway, probably to a kitchen shed, stood at the base of the stairs beyond the bar. Several of the men drinking at the bar appeared to be villagers conversing about planting and the persistent rain. The other two men were members of the group she had followed into town. She guessed they had taken rooms upstairs. She sighed. A room and a bath sounded wonderful, but too risky. She checked the notice board by the entry, but saw no broadside offering a reward for a girl, a woman and dog. Mel headed toward the far doorway, which did indeed lead to the kitchen.
"Hello," she greeted the cook. "May I purchase some stew to take along with me? I have a pot if you will fill it."
"I can do that, gladly. Give me your pot." Mel handed over a round clay pot with a tightly fitted cork lid. The cook considered the pot's size. "Tell the barkeep its 4 coppers. You can pay him while I fill it." Savory smells came from the pot when she took it back. It would be enough to feed her and Shep as well. Thanking the cook, Mel left by the rear door and headed north, walking through the shadows at the edge of the forest, in case any eyes were watching. Only when the parallel road rounded a bend and was out of sight of the village did she head further into the forest and turn back south.
She returned to Shepherd well past mid-day. "Sorry for the long wait, girl, but we needed food. I don't think Howe's men watched in that village, but we need to keep vigilant. Thank you for guarding the pack and arms."
Shep barked softly and accepted the jerky Mel offered.
Mel decided to cross the road and head deeper into the forest on its eastern side. She put the small pack of newly purchased items on top of the other things in the larger one, hefted the load onto her back and checked the road for travelers. Seeing no one, she and Shep hurried across the road and into the forest. Once they penetrated farther into the trees and away from prying eyes on the road, Mel stopped in a clearing. A small stream rippled nearby. "Let's eat, Shep. I'm starving and this stew smells good."
She pulled the stew, a loaf of bread, her spoon, her cup and her map from the pack and then settled down on the ground. "Let me eat first. Then you can have your share. No sense dirtying two bowls, right? Here's some jerky for you to nibble on in the meantime."
Shepherd huffed quietly and nudged Mel's hand. Mel scratched her ears briefly and then ate, while Shep wolfed down the jerky.
"So much for nibbling, huh, pup?"
Putting down the pot with the remainder of the stew for Shep, Mel opened the map. Finally, she could figure out where they were. She felt confident they were headed south, but she would feel better if she knew their exact location. The village she had visited was called Melton.
"Ah, there we are Shep. And farther along than I expected. I guess we lost less time in the pass than we thought when we crossed the Coast Range. I know it made sense to use Fronner Notch, but I didn't expect so much snow. I should have realized a pass at that altitude would still have snow in Drakonis. It's been two weeks since we left. We should reach Lothering in another week, I think."
Mel leaned against Shepherd, who had settled behind her after finishing the stew. She decided they would remain here for the night. She wanted to clean up, wash some clothing, and use the linen to make a towel and some new small clothes. During the day when its light would go undetected and its smoke would mix with that of nearby farmholds or villages, they sometimes risked a fire. Since the stew from Melton was already heated, none was needed this day.
Once in the Bannorn, they could often travel in daylight through forested areas. To be safer, Shep and Mel usually took a daytime break to cook and eat. While she carefully put out and hid any traces of fire before they left, smells lingered and might draw searchers. She felt safer leaving their dinner spot behind them. After mid-day, they could travel many miles during the long hours of daylight Drakonis provided. When they stopped for the night, food would be eaten cold. No sense attracting man or beast while she slept. She knew men hunted her. She did not intend to be caught.
"This campsite will be safe for the night, Shep. We can stay if we don't build a fire."
The site was more open than she liked, no cliff or outcrop to guard her back, but it sat within the curve of a deep, swiftly flowing stream. She used her dagger to rip three strips of linen for a towel, smalls and a breast band. Pulling out the sewing kit, she threaded a needle. Stitching quickly, she soon had fresh smalls. Setting Shep to watch, she stripped off her armor and old arming clothes, removed her undergarments and washed herself, her undergarments and the arming clothes in the cold water of the stream where it eddied into a pool surrounded by bushes on three sides. The new scented soap seemed luxurious; once, she had taken such things for granted. She did not undo her loose braids, but did wash her hair, scrubbing at the roots with the new soap. She dried herself with the linen towel, and put on the fresh smalls and breast band. Not a warm bath, but definitely better than nothing. Hanging her wet clothes on branches to dry, she felt almost clean.
Shivering in a fresh breeze, as the sun sank lower behind the tree cover, she put on a linen tunic, her new Arethian arming clothes, and a loose wool over-tunic, hoping they would warm her. She appreciated the lighter weight, but greater warmth of the Arethian-made arming clothes. I hope they repel arrows and blades as well as the Arethians claim. She pulled the cider and spice cakes from her pack. Shepherd huffed happily and nudged her side. "You want a spice cake too, girl? Guess you deserve one today."
She nibbled at a second spice cake while she worked on removing the final traces of the Cousland and Highever arms from her pauldron. Since her stop at the spring in the Coastlands, she had scraped a bit of the markings off each day, trying to make it look like a repair to blade or arrow damage. She hoped to complete the work before she slept.
"Shep, please run a perimeter circuit and keep watch. I want to finish this."
Shep rose and walked into the forest to circle the camp.
As Mel worked, she realized she had not cried all day. Great, maybe I'm done crying. She realized keeping her mind occupied with more than walking helped. She glanced at her pack. She had a journal. Maybe writing would help too. I'll try it tomorrow. I want to finish this tonight.
She slept for a few hours as dusk fell, and then woke to let Shep sleep. She slept again, and woke just after sun rise. The dawn light barely penetrated this deep into the forest. She listened intently, wondering what had awakened her. "Shep," she whispered. She heard the mabari come through the trees to her bedroll.
"All is well?" Shep huffed and sank down beside her, clearly at ease. "Fine, I must be getting used to rising at dawn." She smiled as she listened to the birdsong. That's loud enough to wake anyone. "Shep, why don't you take a nap while I pack up."
Shep settled her head on her paws and closed her eyes. Mel packed her bedroll and dry items, and then collected the still damp ones to put at the top of her pack. Her old waxed cloak, which she had used as a ground cover, now lay beneath the damp items, protecting the rest of her things. She wore her new cloak from Areth, but the old waxed one which had many other uses. She put some bread, dried fruit and nuts, a slice of cheese, some pieces of jerky and the last spice cake in a belt pouch. They could nibble their meal as they walked.
Scratching Shep's neck, she decided to divert herself with music. She pinched the ear cuff she had brought from Areth to start the tunes. This is my favorite Arethian toy. Music, recorded music, is the one thing I would hate to give up completely. She stood listening and adjusting the volume, making sure she could hear the forest around her. Dar Williams sang about Iowa, as she shouldered her pack. Her throwing knives and daggers found their normal places on her belts and in her boots.
"Shep, ready," she called softly. The two set off toward the south.
….Tonight I went running through the screen doors of discretion
For I woke up from a nightmare that I could not stand to see
You were a-wandering out on the hills of Iowa
And you were not thinking of me...
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Mel and Shep approached the bridge through the forest soon after dark. The Trenter River ran fast and high here on its way to the River Dane.
"I know Shep, I don't like it either," Mel whispered. "A single bridge provided the only crossing for miles according to the map. With the river in full flood, the bridge provides a perfect ambush spot. We can't walk or swim across with packs. Let's scout this bank and then wait. Maybe anyone on the other side will get restless and show themselves."
Mel had already strung her bow and carried it at her side. Her ear cuff was silent. She dropped her pack, removed Shep's and put her blades in their sheaths on her back. Once they confirmed the north bank was clear, they sat in the shadow of the trees to wait. Mel watched the stars wheel through the night and decided enough time had passed. There was no moon.
"Shep, the bridge has walls. Your silhouette will not show. Can you sneak across and scout the other side?" Shep huffed quietly and fell to her stomach to creep across the bridge. Mel followed stealthily, stopping just below the top of the bridge's arc.
Henric and Hoskins stood in the forest on either side of the road at the southern bridgehead, bows at the ready. Refugees had been trickling north fleeing the darkspawn in the Wilds. The two men made a living divesting them of their valuables. The shop keeper in Melton often bought their found goods. Sometimes he sold them back to the original owners as they passed through. Melton was a small town, with no Chantry or sheriff. The travelers could not complain.
Recently a better opportunity had opened. A patrol of Amaranthine troops had passed through and offered a bounty for the capture and return of two runaway noble women and their dog. Henric and Hoskins decided to keep an eye out for the group. A few days before, the two had visited the inn in Melton after selling more goods to the shopkeeper. From their table they noticed a girl. While she had not appeared noble, they learned she had bought a good deal of food. More suspiciously, she had left the inn by the rear door after purchasing stew.
"Perhaps she's not traveling alone," Henric had mused over his ale. "Let's get back to the bridge. If she's the girl traveling with an older woman the Amaranthine patrol sought, she would have to cross the Trenter Bridge to continue south."
"That patrol said they was looking fer an old lady, a dog and a girl."
"She probably left the others in the woods. If she got this far she knows not to show up in town with the old lady in tow."
If she was not the run away, then they could still divest her of her belongings. They decided to set up the ambush, expecting that she might try to cross at night.
Last night, no one had passed. On this second night, no one had approached the bridge in either direction. After several hours had passed, Hoskins got restless and walked toward the road,
"Henric," he whispered loudly. "She ain't coming tonight, if ever. For all we know, she headed north like the other refugees. Let's come back tomorrow."
"Get back, you fool," Henric hissed. "She'll see or hear you."
"You said she wouldn't scout us out, just walk across at night thinking it'd be safe."
"Just get back and wait."
As Hoskins turned, with his bow lowered, Shep attacked Henric. At the same time, an arrow found its home in Hoskin's neck. Mel dropped her bow and pulled out her blades as she rushed to the end of the bridge. She stopped and checked Hoskin's pulse. He was not quite dead, but unconscious and bleeding out quickly. Her arrow had been true, catching his jugular. She pulled it out to speed his death. He posed no threat.
Mel crossed the road to assist Shep with the second attacker. Henric had dropped his bow and fallen when Shep attacked. Lying on his back with Shep on his chest, he was unable to reach the blades on his back. He struggled to reach the dagger on his belt, while trying to push the mabari off his neck. Before he could pull the dagger, a boot stepped on his arm, a blade pointed at his throat, and the mabari grabbed his other wrist. His attacker removed the dagger from his belt.
"You'll bleed out very soon from those neck wounds. Your friend already has. Can I expect anyone else to attack me?"
"Stupid fool." Henric whispered. "We'd have succeeded if he hadn't shown himself."
"I doubt it. I fought my way through Howe's Vigilant Shield in Castle Cousland. We can take two brigands in an obvious ambush."
Henric groaned. "Finish it, then. There are no others. There's a price on your head. We planned to claim the reward."
"More likely claim your death. Howe won't want it known that I escaped." She ran her dagger across his throat.
Mel looted the bodies and dumped them in the river. The water would carry them far downstream, toward River Dane and Lake Calenhad, before they washed up on the riverbank. They had been older men, probably in their forties or fifties. She hoped they did not have families. Shaking her head, she reflected ruefully that she had become a ruthless, efficient fighter. Needs must when the demons drive. "I'm not sure I like who I am becoming, Shep."
The mabari whined.
"Let's get our gear and get across this Maker Blighted bridge," she muttered. Leaving her blades and loot under the trees, they hurried back to the north bank, picking up her bow from the bridge. Mel shouldered her pack and carried Shep's for now. The mabari would resume carrying her own pack once they divided the loot. She hesitated, thinking, Shep's pack, my pack, blades, bow, yes, all accounted for. She was certain things would get left behind at some point, but she wasn't ready to lose anything else just yet.
Once across, Mel grabbed the loot and her blades, and slipped further into the woods along the river. "We can't sleep here Shep. There's another town called Maspeth just down the road if that signpost is accurate. We need to get further away."
Using river water, she cleaned her blades, and then slipped them into the sheaths on her pack. She lashed the now unstrung bow across the top and the Cousland sword and shield onto the pack's face. Shep had gone into the river to clean off. Mel checked her, wiping Shep down with her hands. Everything cleaned, Mel checked the weapons she had taken from the two brigands. She did not want to leave them near the road. She kept the fine dagger, the coin and the arrows. The blades might have value, but she couldn't carry them all the way to Lothering. She decided to carry them into the woods, and leave them buried beneath a log or some leaves. She wanted no trace left of the fight at the Trenter Bridge.
She realized the brigands must have a camp, but she had no time to search for it. The camp would show no sign of fighting. Someone would find it, loot it, and probably say nothing, if no bodies or blood was discovered.
Not wanting to stay near the road, Mel hiked through the forest parallel to the river. "We'll get as far as we can by dawn, then head south again. Once we can no longer hear the river we'll stop, eat, and rest, girl," she assured Shep. "We've become efficient killers it seems."
She fed the mabari some jerky and nibbled on a few pieces herself. Dawn seemed a long time coming, but finally visibility improved, although the sky remained cloudy and the mist hung heavily over the forest. Slowly shades of grey became greens and browns and the two refugees turned south into the mixed pine and hardwood forest. The sound of the river receded, until Mel realized she could no longer hear it. She began looking for a clearing, preferably by a stream. She planned to risk a fire, stay until morning and allow the two of them to recover and sleep. They would lose a day, but she and Shep both needed the rest.
Mel shivered in the misty chill. She had fought and killed with impunity, first Howe's soldiers, and now the brigands. She knew she had no real choice, it was kill or die. What surprised her was her lack of remorse. If asked a month ago, she would have replied that any death diminished her. She had fought and killed before, but not without regret. With the death of her family and friends, and with her own life at risk, the philosophical approach no longer appealed. Reality clashed with abstraction, and reality won. She wondered if this darkness held any light.
Drakonis === On Patrol in the Bannorn
Rogier pulled the hood of his cloak forward. The trees dripped constantly as the patrol rode through the mist for the third day. I wish it would just rain and get it over with. The mist permeated everything. Nothing stayed dry.
A few days after his father left Castle Cousland, Lord Thomas Howe decided to search for the Cousland women himself. All of Rogier's persuasive powers had not convinced the boy to let his soldiers do their jobs.
"Father underestimates her. She's probably miles away across the Coast Range by now. We should focus on the Bannorn, not the Coastlands."
The boy had been sober when he decided to hunt the Cousland heiress. Or soon to be heiress, when Howe's man or the darkspawn took care of her brother.
Thomas was not stupid. Convincing him to wait in Highever proved futile when he was not confused by drink. He had remained sober all through the army's march from the Feravel Plains, their sacking of Castle Cousland and Keep Broughten, and their occupation of Higheverport. He had stayed with Captain Tobias, followed orders, and led a contingent into the Arl's Keep to help finish what the Vigilant Shield had begun. The absence of Lady Philippa had been the only disappointment. He hoped she had already returned from Denerim to prepare for her wedding. Once the area had been secured, his attentions had turned to the missing Teyrna and her daughter.
Rogier argued that patrols had been sent to the Bannorn, but that his father thought it more likely the girl and her mother would head for Long's Reach and a boat to Waking Sea. Ultimately, he expected the women would go to Nevarra. The girl alone, might head south, but with her mother along…Thomas had not been convinced.
"Her mother may still be hidden in the Coastlands, but Lys will go to find her brother. We can't let her warn him." He smirked. "Besides, I owe the bitch a beating and a bedding."
Rogier had pursed his lips, nodded, and told the boy he would go along. Now they rode wet, muddy trails. No one had seen a girl, an older woman and a mabari.
"I don't understand. She can't have any supplies. She has only the armor she wore that night and her weapons. How can she stay invisible?"
"Maybe because she did not come this way, My Lord."
Thomas gave Rogier a sidelong glare. "Of course she came this way. I tell you she's heading for Lothering and Ostagar, or for South Reach."
"That's-"
The lead horseman held up his had to halt the patrol and motioned for silence. The others smelled it too. A fire burned, off in the woods to their right. They dismounted. Rogier took the lead, silently moving towards the smell of smoke. He saw a bundled figure lying on the ground by the fire. Waving his companions forward, he approached and kicked the sleeping form. To his surprise, a bolt of lightning ripped through him. Before the mage could cast again, the other soldiers had him by his arms, binding his wrists behind him.
Rogier shook his head as the pain diminished. "Bring my pack. I have magebane. We'll make sure he doesn't cast again."
Thomas, standing beside Rogier, gave him a startled look. "You have magebane?"
"I have all sorts of potions and poisons, My Lord."
"Good to know," Thomas said thoughtfully. "We're nearer to South Reach than Lothering. We'll take him to the Chantry there. I know the Arl. I squired there. He'll let us rest and provide supplies. We can take the West Road back to Lothering. We won't lose that much time." Thomas walked back to his horse. "Probably should have headed straight for Lothering to begin with," he muttered, "instead of wasting time searching the Bannorn."
Rogier watched Thomas remount. Explaining our presence to Arl Bryland may tax your powers of invention, Lord Howe. The mage may have other uses. Let's see if you come to your senses on your own. If not we'll have a long talk. Rogier motioned to have the mage ride with one of the troops.
A/N:Thank you for reading. If you have time, please review. I appreciate all followers, favorites, kudos and comments.
Thanks to my wonderful betas Kira Tamarion and ElyssaCousland whose help always improves the story. Any remaining errors are mine alone.
Thanks for the reivews! and comments. Caraine, Bladerunner89, ChaoticHarmony, SnowHelm, dustywalker, SagaMus, Augustus_Featherwing, KatDancer, mackillian and Mike3207. Thanks to those who favorited, followed and gave kudos. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.
