Chapter 3: Forgiveness, A Bit Too Late
Adrian kissed her when she returned from a day of terrifying and killing peasants, as usual. And like always, the kiss didn't feel right. Rayne still had worries of why Adrian was giving these orders and why he was so obsessively looking for this Vilhm character. She loved Adrian, so she could barely stomach doubting him, but his orders still felt wrong.
"You seem down, Rayne." Adrian's smile didn't seem to have the luster or youthfulness it used to. He always used to seem so cheerful, making wise cracks in the darkest of situations. Was it simply the pressures of being Chancellor, effectively ruling the country while the King and Queen were visiting Orlais to meet with Empress Celene I? "Tell me, did something happen?"
Rayne wanted to shout at him. She wanted to yell that he was giving orders that she could hardly stand. She wanted to ask why Vilhm was so important as to tear Denerim in two to get to him, but she couldn't. The words stuck in her throat, her gaze wavering. She wanted to talk about how she was slowly being killed by these brutal orders, her soldiers even starting to place doubt in their leadership.
But Rayne knew she was too prideful. She had thought once before that she could tell Adrian anything, but that had since changed. He was a different person now, though she didn't wish to believe it. She could see the mars on his face, the deep bags forming beneath his eyes, the redness clawing at the corners of his eyes, the scratchy beard he didn't seem to remember to shave. It was the effects of obsession, Rayne knew. He wanted to find Vilhm, above all other things he could possibly do in the world. The question was: why?
"It's nothing." Lies. Rayne turned her eyes away, withdrawing from his hold. She couldn't do it. Despite everything she had gone through, she was still weak. She couldn't even question the one she loved, even when she knew she had to. "Just tired is all."
"Well, I'm afraid I have more information." Rayne had to stop herself from wincing. So soon? Did Adrian run around the city killing people, forcing answers from their corpses? How did he gather this intelligence that which, without fail, causes her to kill unnecessarily?
"Anything for you, my love." Such sickening lies, but Rayne kept her composure. It felt so wrong standing here. She'd done horrible things for this man and she knew she'd keep doing them as long as Vilhm lived. "I live for you."
She noticed Adrian smile at that. That wasn't like him. Adrian was never one to like being an unquestionable authority figure, much preferring decisions made by many, rather than few.
"It seems Vilhm has decided it's time to change the game around. He's disappeared completely. None of his contacts have seen hide nor hair of him in weeks, as you have undoubtedly found out. I know he has not left the city, but due to the difficulty involved in hunting him down, I've enlisted some help." Adrian gestured behind him. Rayne turned, only to jump at the sight of the familiar elf. One who tried to kill them both, so long ago.
"You!" Rayne snarled at Zevran, who simply raised his hands, smiling and shaking his head. Exasperated, Rayne found herself unsure of how to act. First the brutal orders and now the hiring of a backstabbing assassin? "Why would you hire this traitor, Adrian?"
"Traitor?" Zevran turned around, gazing behind him for a second before locking eyes with Rayne again. "I am simply an opportunist and a realist, as is your Chancellor. He needed help and I was in town. Unpleasant past encounters shouldn't matter, especially when we can both benefit so greatly from these dealings."
"Zevran is to accompany you now, Rayne, but he will also be doing some solo searching of his own. He's practiced these sorts of things. Vilhm can be caught much faster with his help. He's formerly an Antivan Crow, as you know. "
"Not formerly, I daresay." Zevran was smiling now, that sly, seductive grin that always made Rayne's skin crawl. "Through the use of some clever persuasion and with the help of my dagger, I am now the leader of the Antivan Crows, though my position is tenuous at best. I have someone leading in place while I'm screwing around in Ferelden, if you know what I mean."
Rayne gawked, still overwhelmed by these events. Zevran tried to kill her and Adrian, and he nearly succeeded! But if Adrian was willing to trust him again... Rayne shook her head, knowing she was too dependent on Adrian's decisions.
"Fine." Rayne brushed Zevran's shoulder as she left the Grand Hall. The elven assassin followed shortly after. She could feel his lecherous stares, his probing eyes, tracing her body as they did every female the assassin encountered. She decided that Vilhm Madon had to die, if only so that Adrian would return to normal, that her life would begin to make sense again. She would do whatever it took.
ooo
"It's odd how the gates stay open, despite all the nasty rumors going around about the chancellor." Myr smirked, noticeable just out of the corner of Saul's eye. It was the first thing she had said to him in the last couple of hours. "The city looks trashed, though."
Indeed it did. As the two travelers entered Denerim they were bombarded with images of destruction. The attack on Denerim had not left the city unscathed and many, if not most, of the buildings were damaged in some way. Some were completely collapsed, leaving people to sleep out in the streets.
"And now the shems can taste what it's like every day for the Alienage Elves. No continuous sources of food, income or shelter." Myr almost seemed pleased, though Saul just thought it was a trick of the light.
Saul didn't reply, still caught up in the sight of the trashed city. It had been over two months since the attack and though obvious reconstruction effort was underway it would be a very long time before Denerim was completely rebuilt. Humans, not elves, lined the streets unhealthy and unfed. They didn't all seem miserable. Saul imagined that the glowing victory over the darkspawn had not yet faded, and some were still convinced that life would get better.
What fools.
"Well, I brought you to Denerim." Saul halted when the two got to a crossroads, branching out to various parts of the city. There were a few corner stores, some still intact and others rebuilt, wares and signs displayed proudly, as if in testament to the fact that the owners were in much better circumstances than those outside, sleeping in the gutters. People meandered about, mostly happy, yet there seemed to be an undercurrent of discomfort. Despite everything, these people weren't exactly in perfect shape, after all. Saul continued. "I believe it is time we went our separate ways. I'm sure your life has demands outside of me, and I must press on with existing as well."
Saul thought he caught a panicked look crossing Myr's eyes, but it was gone quickly enough for him to wonder if that too was a trick of the light. Her expressions often seemed unreadable, and this was no exception.
"Are you sure?" Myr's head was cocked, her body turned completely towards Saul. He noticed just how closely the two were standing together, and indeed they had walked the entire distance to Denerim from their previous encampment like this. The average passerby would probably make the incorrect assumption that they were close companions rather than opportunistic strangers using each other to make a long journey easier to bear. Myr's next words were much lower, ensuring only Saul could hear. "I mean, I don't want to bother you more...but those templars are still going to be an issue with me. I don't have any life demands, either. I've just been a meandering wanderer since I escaped the Circle Tower. I have no pressing responsibilities whatsoever."
Saul was taken aback by this. He had hoped to get rid of Myr, as she only served as a distraction to his greater purpose. Despite this, part of him actually wanted her to stay. She was good conversation and a companion was not necessarily a bad thing, especially when they could cook as well as she could. But if she kept traveling with him, she'd find out about his vendetta against the Howe's eventually. Could he allow that?
"I can't. My journey is far from over."
"Please?" Myr grabbed his left hand with both of hers, staring up into his eyes. Damn it. Now he really wanted her along. "You already know I can make myself useful."
She was pleading? Why did she care so much? Could a woman of her age, despite being an apostate, possess such an empty life as to want to journey with a near-stranger who has done nothing but murder since coming into her presence?
"Believe me, I want you to. However, my path is a long and dark one. Do not take this lightly. If I had a happier mission, I would gladly take you along, but situation demands that I do this alone." Saul gently pried himself from Myr's grip, trying not to look into her eyes. He had only known her for a week, but her constant presence had grown on him. He actually felt sad as he walked away, an emotion he had long since thought dead.
So he left her there, amidst the bustle of a busy intersection, a lone albino elf in a sea of people. Pained expression splayed across her pretty face as he looked back at her once. Only once. And then she disappeared in the crowd. Saul knew it would be a long time before he forgot her.
ooo
"Ah! Finally you decide to show up, Captain Ryal!" Taoran turned swiftly as the older captain walked into the room. The leader of the Irregulars looked none the worse for wear, despite how he undoubtedly had only recently been informed of his father's death. Not a good sign, but Ryal simply hoped he was misreading the situation. "I hope your night of drinking and revelry will not impede your duties as an Irregular, yes?"
"Of course not." Ryal saluted smartly. He saw no reason to admit to having something of a hangover. Taoran was a man who demanded excellence, and being impaired in any form would cause him great consternation. "I'm always ready for you sir, just as I was with your father."
"Good." Taoran turned back to the fire, signaling his lesser guardsmen to leave the two men alone. As soon as they had vacated the chamber, Taoran continued speaking. "Ryal, there are changes coming to Denerim, changes that could be very profitable for this organization. The new chancellor has been searching for something fervently and I want to know what. You're going to be in charge of this investigation."
Ryal scowled. Taoran's perception of an investigation was hardly tasteful. Likely he'd have to threaten a few lowlifes, scare a few women and ultimately make an ass of himself, blundering about Denerim hoping to find scraps of information.
"I am soldier, not a spy. Don't you have pickpockets or street ears for this sort of thing?"
"We need a soldier for this job, not a street ear. I know what you are capable of Ryal, you've done it multiple times for my father."
"Who will go with me?" What Taoran undoubtedly wanted was not something Ryal relished, but he'd do his job as an Irregular. Perhaps it was even necessary. Taoran was a highly intelligent young man, and if anyone knew how to operate the Irregulars, it was he.
"Whoever you think is best suited for the job. You'll need a lot of men."
"Very well, commander. Tell me my orders."
ooo
The Gnawed Noble Tavern wasn't quite what Saul expected. For one, it was fully reconstructed, possibly due in part to its high income and rich customers. Unfortunately, it was probably the only working tavern in Denerim, and that didn't bode well for a man trying to stay hidden.
The atmosphere was hectic, people crowded at the tables, conversing, laughing, joking and drinking. The feel of recovery was great here, as most of the patrons likely were upper class citizens who would rather die than allow themselves to sleep on the ground. Saul smirked when he remembered how he used to be that way.
Saul noticed that amidst the sea of patrons, there was one table not filled, holding only a single man, head covered in a cloak, sipping away at a pint of ale. Saul meandered over, laying a hand softly on the table as he approached. The man looked up, yet Saul could still only see a slight amount of his face under the hood.
"Mind if I join you, friend?" Saul smiled as best as he could. Apparently his friendliness was convincing, as the man nodded, gesturing across from him. "Thank you."
"What brings you to this Tavern, traveler?" Saul could only see the man's mouth, so far down was his hood. Was there a particular reason why he'd want to hide his face like that? "Aside from there being no other taverns in Denerim, of course."
"There is business I have to take care of. I won't be here long before I turn north to Amaranthine." Saul spoke honestly. He had the strangest feeling that this man could be trusted. He could see wrinkles surrounding the hooded man's face, undoubtedly meaning he was an older, possibly wiser, patron.
"Amaranthine, eh? I'd heard many dark things about that corner of Ferelden." The man titled his head upwards slightly, just enough for Saul to catch a glimpse of his nose. "The new Warden-Commander was sent there to solve some dire problems, as the word on the street says."
"You would know of the word on the street?" Maybe Saul had just found an informant.
"I know of many things, young man. Not many important events escape my notice." The man lowered his voice. "Not many small events escape either."
Saul lowed his voice as well, asking "Then would you know if you could answer a few questions, my friend? I find myself in need of certain information."
The man leaned forward slightly, inviting Saul to join him, so as to not alert other patrons of their conversation.
"If you're willing to pay, I may be willing to supply." Saul could see a smile widen on the older man's face. "Five sovereigns and my tongue will become quite loose indeed."
Saul fished in his pockets, to the few coins he had in his possession. Five sovereigns would leave him only barely enough for a room in The Gnawed Noble Tavern.
"If your information is good enough, then these sovereigns will leave my pocket." Saul knew better than to allow a man to ask for payment first, then give information. It could just be worthless drivel, after all. The man just smiled wider.
"I like you. You've got some strength, not like most bottom feeders in this shit-hole. Very well." The man adjusted his hood, pulling it down further. "I'll answer one of your questions free of charge, any more will need payment."
A fair enough deal. Saul fished out five sovereigns, keeping them in his palm while he thought of a question. His best bet was to ask about the exact location of the Howes, yet he didn't want to seem suspicious. Still, if this man was selling information, he likely was not working with the authorities.
"I seek the locations of the last of Rendon Howe's bloodline. Every single one that remains alive." Saul nervously fingered the sovereigns. If this man had the information he was looking for, then...
"Ah!" The hooded man smiled, nodding his head. "Saul Cousland, of course. Such a pleasure to meet such an esteemed noble such as yourself!" Saul wasn't sure how to react. The man had already found him out? Just from that request? The man continued.
"You seek vengeance for the deaths of your family, don't you?" Saul nervously glanced about the tavern, yet nobody was paying any attention to his conversation, even those sitting at tables just adjacent to them. "Aye. I know the location of the last of the Howes. However, I know how important this information is to you. My price has changed. 10 sovereigns."
Saul grabbed the man by his throat, drawing him close threateningly. He wasn't about to be cheated. No, he'd get this information, regardless of cost. The man's hood fell back, revealing most of his face. He was simply an older man, possibly in his 50's. The only surprising thing was his expression. He was just smiling, completely unafraid of Saul, despite his situation.
"Or maybe you should reconsider that stance. If you know what I am after, then you know I am not afraid of cleaning up liabilities." Saul narrowed his eyes. "Like you."
"Very well." The man raised his arms, appearing submissive. Somehow Saul got the feeling the man was only choosing to submit, but was still uncaring about his situation. "But you should be careful about who you threaten in the future. Not everyone is as friendly as I, especially in these troubled times. Delilah is in Amaranthine, adjusting to peasant life with her new husband. From what I hear, she has a child on the way. Nathaniel was just recently captured for breaking into Vigil's Keep, his former home. I know not the circumstances, but I hear he may be executed, though the Warden-Commander has yet to decide upon his fate."
Saul let go, allowing the man to slump back into his seat. Not desiring to remain in the uncomfortable presence of a man not shaken by him, Saul swiftly stood, making a straight line to the tavern keeper. Perhaps he could get his thoughts straight once he was alone.
Yes. Alone. Like he should be. Yet Saul wished he had someone to talk to. He had his information, so he should be happy. Why did he still feel dissatisfied? No matter, it would undoubtedly go away once his vengeance was satiated.
Right?
ooo
Rayne sighed, scanning the alleyway she and her group of soldiers had occupied. The address she was ordered to search was somewhere around here, but she wasn't entirely sure where it was. The spot where the door should have been was just wall, no sign of entrance.
"Perhaps it was destroyed in the battle and rebuilt this way?" One of her soldiers observed, examining the wall for hints of a secret door. Rayne just gave him an icy stare. This expedition was useless, and now she had to report a failure back to Adrian. She knew he wouldn't take that well.
"Perhaps it is best that we ask a few people around the area about this." Zevran spoke, running his hand along the wall. "It doesn't seem like this wall is a secret passage or like its been rebuilt. How odd..."
Rayne shrugged, exasperation evident on her face. Adrian would probably get furious for her lack of results. What was she going to do now? It was almost as if...
He thoughts were interrupted by a shriek and a loud thump behind her. Turning, Rayne found one of her men lying on the ground, arrow protruding from his neck. An attack? Rayne's first instinct was to whip her sword around at Zevran, but he had already started running forward, sword drawn, pointed towards where the attack came from.
If he was fighting with her, then this attack was not a betrayal. Pity. She didn't get to kill the elven assassin, then. A quick look behind her showed Rayne she was surrounded on both sides, enemies pouring from both sides of the alley, each outfitted in fine arms and weapons.
Rayne darted in the opposite direction of Zevran, shouting for her soldiers to stay alert to the threats on both sides. The alleyway was only about eight feet wide, not much room to fight in. She'd have to make do.
Barely dodging an arrow, Rayne barreled into her first enemy, a swift side-strike with Fang throwing his sword arm wide, the follow-up with Blightblood tearing into his armor, corrosive poison from the blade tearing through, precious lifeblood splattering across the stone walls and dirt ground. A mortal wound.
She could hear a couple of soldiers behind her backing her up. Her men were trained and Rayne didn't even need to turn to know they had formed two defensive lines in hopes of repelling the attack.
The second soldier she came across wielded a great sword, but swung it clumsily, almost as if he had just started fighting. Blightblood took off his left hand, Fang left a fatal scarlet line across his neck. Two more enemies popped up where he had fallen, however. No chance to rest, only to fight, hoping a stray arrow wouldn't find her heart.
The soldier on the right lunged forward with a shortsword, more controlled than the man who came before. Rayne parried with Blightblood, just barely managing to hold off the second attack from the soldier on the left with Fang.
But who were these men? Some fought like they were highly trained, others seemed like they had just been picked up from some farmhold, uncertain how to tell the pointy end of a sword from the handle. The battle was quickly becoming stressful, Rayne knew. She knew it would only be a matter of time before she could no longer parry so efficiently. She'd engaged multiple foes before, but the close quarters limited her swing distance. Eight feet was too short. If only she could get to open ground...
That was unlikely. Rayne could see more soldiers pouring into the end of the alleyway. Undoubtedly it was the same on the other end, where Zevran was leading the counterattack. It was obvious they outnumbered Rayne and her soldiers. This didn't look like a battle she could win. How unfortunate she was going to die, devoid of answers, in a seedy back alley somewhere in the slums of Denerim.
The soldier on the right fell to a beheading from Blightblood, the one on the left got a slight wrist from Fang. He fell backwards, replaced by yet more soldiers. They were overwhelming her and her soldiers were dying left and right. She only brought thirteen men with her, not counting Zevran and herself, and she could see a score of men just in front of her. This was definitely a tight situation.
"Right, you slobs! Outta my way! If you can't take care of a wee elf, then back away!" The soldiers Rayne was fighting glanced behind themselves quickly before moving away defensively, relocating themselves to the side while a large human with a great sword took their places. He smiled when he saw Rayne, a sign that the temporary ceasefire his appearance had caused would end all too soon. "You're a pretty one for a Captain of the Guard. You might not be so dainty after I'm through with you, though."
The man moved fast, despite his bulk and the size of his weapon. The sounds of combat still sung behind her, but Rayne could hear her men yelp as they fell. Soon she'd be surrounded, and this battle would end too soon.
Whoever this large man was, he was definitely the strongest she had faced yet. He moved fast, efficiently, wasting no time in every strike, holding Rayne back despite how she was smaller and had two weapona. It increasingly became apparent that Rayne had met her match, and that was not a good thing.
Rayne found herself losing ground, pushed back by the ferocious and unending swings of the burly human. He paused eventually, allowing his soldiers to return to their positions in front, a smile on his face as he stared at Rayne, still backing away. Rayne nearly jumped, startled when her back touched another, initially surprised by who it was. Zevran.
"Fancy seeing you again, beauty." Rayne didn't so much as look behind her, but she knew he was smiling. And wounded. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were the only soldiers remaining. "Isn't it weird how we're going to die together?"
"Might as well take as many with us as possible." Rayne kept her eyes trained on the large human, who had been joined in his attack of her by other soldiers."Hey! I thought you said you'd take care of me alone, shit-head!"
No reaction. The man just stared, a faint smile on his face.
"Yes, yes. Agitate our enemies. That'll make them much more likely to spare us." Rayne felt Zevran lunge, and a shriek followed. Another enemy fatality. But what did it matter?
Rayne and Zevran rotated, knowing they had to keep moving no matter what. To stand still would be to die. Neither wanted that to happen.
"Why are you still here?" Rayne shouted above the din at Zevran, tearing the arm off another of her assailants. "You're a traitor yet you fight with me!"
"Do you see any chance of me escaping?" A good point. Zevran didn't have a choice in fighting. "If you do, please let me know." Zevran paused, another shriek soon following. Rayne struggled to hold off two attackers and the large human, who had resumed his assault against her. "I had to see your pretty face again, Rayne. How could I forget such vengeful beauty, especially since I have not yet bedded you?"
"I wouldn't sleep with you if it killed me!" Slash. One of her attackers fell, replaced by two more. She had yet to get a strike in at the great sword-wielding human.
"Well, it just might! Not like we'd have a chance to test that theory-" A pause, a grunt from Zevran. What happened? "at all!"
"Are you okay?" She needed Zevran alive if there was any chance of surviving. There likely wasn't. Even more enemies poured into the Alleyway, each one eager for a fight. No. There wasn't a chance, but Rayne didn't want to admit it.
"Ah! So...so you do care!" More movement from Zevran, more shrieks. He was good, but they were both faltering. This wouldn't last much longer. "I knew...you did."
Rayne was breathing in gasps now, her sword arm feeling heavy with fatigue. She struck out at an enemy, but she had lunged too far forward. A sword bit into her side, tearing through her chainmail. A deep cut, but she didn't know if it was fatal.
"And now it is my turn to ask the same thing!" Zevran's voice seemed pained. Rayne could feel him turn slightly, to check on her. He shouldn't have.
Rayne turned as well, and for a second the two could see each other out of the corner of their eyes, each understanding the desperation of the situation and for a moment, Rayne felt like forgiving Zevran. She could see his face, panting, bloody, yet he still held a smile despite everything. She could see enough of him to watch the enemy sword plunge into Zevran's back, his face contorting in pain.
"Zevran!" Rayne turned fully. Another mistake. She felt a blade enter her leg first, then another from the front, digging into her stomach. Rayne stood for a second before falling, her leg giving way under the pain. She didn't even feel the ground.
ooo
Myr thought she felt something odd while she sat against a wall, examining the Market District. She was resting there as she had nothing else to do with her time, but panic from the strange, foreign feeling drove her to her feet, anxiously searching the crowd in front of her, struggling to find the reason for her panic.
She wasn't sure why, but she had an odd feeling, the same one she felt before she fled the Circle Tower the last time. Something was happening, something far from her control. Her first thought was to leave Denerim, but she knew she had to stay.
Myr took off running, bumping people out of the way. Fear clawed at her, though she wasn't sure why. It was instinct she knew, and that had yet to fail her.
She needed answers, and she had a feeling she knew who to go to in order to find them.