Sorrows and Delights: Chapter 4
"The fools! The idiotic careless fools!" The man swore in as he paced in front of Sarthia. "They said they could get the job done, bring her here and no one would be the wiser. Now you tell me that three of them are dead and one of them is in the palace dungeons?" His voice rose to the point of shouting. He had wanted the Warden-Commander brought here so he could do away with her in private.
"With all due respect master I did warn you about them. The Warden is not easily overtaken or captured by brute force. Let me use my skills to take her out personally. I was trained by the best as a bard and picked up quite a few skills from the Antivan Crows. I can blend in as a servant and no one would think to question me. The palace is extremely active right now due to the coronation that is to take place in three days. Let me go in alone and I will not only take care of the failure in the dungeon, but the Warden as well." Sarthia said in her light Orlesian accent.
The man scrutinized her as he considered her words. It was true Sarthia had never failed him in anything she had ever done. But he was wary of letting her do this task alone. The Warden seemed to have the most impeccable luck when it came to surviving. If he failed this time around the Bann in Amaranthine he served would be most displeased. But he could hardly control the Warden's survival ability when she was being threatened by death.
"Very well, how do you propose to kill our idiot friend in the dungeon?" The man asked pouring himself a cup of wine.
Sarthia displayed a pouch full a finely ground white substance. "Purified adder snake poison that is tasteless, colorless and odorless. Very rare to come by and devilishly expensive. A few sprinkles in food or drink and you are dead within a few hours. I can get it into his food or drink while in the palace but make his death look like a suicide."
The man smiled, "I like the idea of it. Last thing we need is for you to screw up and set off a poison scare in the castle. I want it done tonight before they have a chance to question him or worse, take him to Fort Drakon. The hour grows late and it will probably be dealt with in the morning. In the meantime, I will leave the killing of the Warden on you. If you fail, not only will you have me to deal with but the Bann as well. Get to the Warden tonight if possible. Failure at this point is not an option. To do so will bring dire consequences." To make his point the man's hands began to glow purple with a deadly shock spell.
Sarthia masked her fear, keeping her composure calm. "Understood my master. If all goes well both missions will be accomplished long before anyone realizes what happened." Sarthia bowed before leaving. She was beginning to wonder if she should have thrown her lot in with a high ranking noble from Amaranthine and a Tevinter mage. But her master had saved her from a traitor's death. Now she had to do his bidding and there was no room for argument. The benefits were not bad; she had a place to live, all her needs provided for and shelter from her enemies. She had a risky and danger filled job to do and so she set about gathering the servant clothes she had stolen.
She had learned the layout of the palace well enough to know where guards stood or when shifts changed. She had accomplished this by flitting in and out as not only a servant but also with the throng of vendors bringing in items for the coronation. She was not worried about getting caught or arousing suspicions. Ten years of being a bard in and out of Orlais had taught her how to keep cool and calm. She was in fact looking forward to this mission. It brought her a thrill knowing that she would soon be back in her element. Infiltrating and killing for hire. What could be better in life?
She changed, quickly concealing her daggers to where they would not be detected and headed to the palace. It was not quite late evening but she had a lot to do before she could make herself inconspicuous and play the waiting game. As she approached the servants' entrance she put on a servitude demeanor. She wanted to attract as little attention to herself as possible. The kitchens were filled with a chaotic mess of shouting, full and empty trays going in and out of the main door to the dining hall. Leftovers were ferried into a large bowl that would be divided up for the prisoners in the dungeon.
Going up to the old woman who ran the kitchen Sarthia said, "The dungeon guards are asking for the leftovers to be brought down if they are available."
The woman gave Sarthia a cursory glance and said peevishly, "Already? They are a bit early are they my girl?"
Sarthia shrugged looking at the red faced fleshy cheeked woman, "That is what I was told madam. I just go where I am ordered."
The old woman snorted impatiently then went to the cupboard to pull out bowls and handed them off to Sarthia. "Here take the bowls and the leftovers to that table in the corner and divide the portions evenly. When you are done I will send Toby with you to open the doors." The woman nodded to a young child about nine sweeping up the floor and keeping any clutter clear so the servants could move around easily.
Sarthia took the items to the corner and did as she was bid. This could not have worked out any better. Normally she knew if a mission was going to go smoothly or not. Tonight the first half of this mission was going well. As for the second half, if her luck held, killing the Warden would hopefully be just as smooth. But she was not for a minute overconfident that the Warden would be an easy target. The woman was a survivor and that male elf who followed her constantly was a hindrance.
But through servants gossip it reached her ears that the Warden ordered large amount of liquor at night. If that was true then she would not hear Sarthia picking the lock to her room. She would not even be aware Sarthia was there. One slice across the Warden's throat would silence her forever. Once again the thought of spilling blood using her well trained skills made her blood pump and sing. She was eager for action and could not wait to have satisfaction.
When she finished doling out the leftovers, she loaded the bowls onto a tray. The old woman yanked Toby's ear and told him to open the doors so Sarthia could bring the trays to the dungeon. They passed through a maze of corridors avoiding the main hall and going into a darker portion of the palace. Here those that were waiting for transfer to Fort Drakon were held at the most for two nights. All the more reason her mission tonight had to succeed. Once the idiot was in Fort Drakon it would be a lot harder to get to him.
To get to the holding cells she had to pass through a large gateway with an iron gate. Seeing she brought the nightly prisoner meal the guard raised the gate up for her and Toby. At the entrance to the stairs Toby turned and walked away without a word. Nervousness made her stomach clench but she kept her face calm and impassive. She walked down the stair and into the anteroom of the dungeon. Several guards were having their own meal as she came in.
One of them looked up at her and scrutinized her. "You are new aren't you?"
"Yes sir. I was instructed to bring this down to the prisoners," she said looking around nervously playing the part of intimidated servant. The guard seemed to notice this for his demeanor became a bit kinder.
"Cook is a bit early sending the prisoners food down isn't she?" he asked getting up and unlocking the iron door that led to the jail cells.
Sarthia shrugged, "I just do what I am told sir and that was to bring down and distribute the food."
"Go on my girl. The food holes are at the corner of each cell. All are full but the last two on the right." The guard motioned to the first one as an example.
Taking her tray and setting it on the table just inside the door, she began shoving the bowls into the cells. She quickly counted eleven cells which meant only nine were occupied. The smell down here was something left to be desired, human waste and unwashed bodies made for a nauseating atmosphere. She pitied the person who had to empty the waste buckets.
The second to the last cell on the left side held the man she was looking for. Looking back she saw that she was obscured from the guards. Taking the pouch out of her clothes she got the man's attention and motioned him closer.
"Who the devil are you?" he said growling quietly.
"I am sent by the man who hired you to kill the Warden. I don't have much time but there will be a pouch underneath your bowl. Sprinkle the contents into your food before you eat it." Sarthia said sliding the pouch and bowl through the slot.
"Why? How is a pouch of powdered shit going to me help in here?" the man said in irritation taking the items.
"My master says that it is a sleeping draught that brings on a fake death. To the guards you will appear dead and you will be taken out of here. My master says he will be waiting for you when they bring you out in the cart. He will kill the body carters and ferry you back to his home. You do want to be free don't you?" Sarthia asked growing nervous as the man was asking too many questions.
"You are kidding right? I am supposed to sprinkle this stuff on my food and I will be free by morning?" the man snorted with doubt.
"My master also says to tell you that he has secured safe passage of out Denerim with a large amount of coin so you can go anywhere you want." Sarthia said hurriedly.
"Coin and free passage to anywhere is it? All right, it still sounds like a crackpot idea but if it means getting me out of here I will do it." The man said reluctantly as he opened the pouch and did as she instructed.
Sarthia watched as he sprinkled enough on his food to kill twenty men. He made an attempt to hand the pouch back but she waved it away. "Master says to keep it hidden on you. He says you may have need of it down the road."
The man nodded and sat down on his bench and began eating. Already she had wasted too much time because of his questions. Mission one is complete, she thought triumphantly. Making him keep the pouch on his body would make it look like a suicide when he was found dead. If the guards tried to recall her they would be hard pressed too. She had arranged her hair and a servants coif and features to blend in with everyone else. She promptly delivered the remaining bowls of food and walked out of the cell block. She closed the jail doors behind her, nodded to the guard who promptly got up to lock it, and went up stairs to start the next mission.
After a long, hot bath and food Istabella went to Anora's receiving chambers. She was sitting on a plush couch with a tea tray in front of her. She rose as Istabella came in, "Warden, I am so glad to know that you and Zevran were not harmed. This was not something I had expected to happen otherwise you would have more guards with you."
Anora gestured for Istabella to sit across from her. "Thank you for your concern your majesty. Apparently someone or some people are extremely pissed off at me for killing Howe. It could be someone here in the city or it could be someone from Amaranthine. Problem is until we get a confession out of the man we brought back it will be impossible to tell. My companions and I will be alert for any suspicious activity or anyone out of the ordinary hanging around. Though I doubt a second attempt will be made tonight. Considering the debacle in the market street failed miserably." Istabella said, turning down a mug of tea the queen offered.
Anora let out a sigh, "With all the preparations going on for the ceremony it is easy to lose track of people. I will have the castle staff and guard informed that they are to be on alert and extra vigilant."
Istabella nodded, "That is advisable, and just to be cautious I want you to have extra guards posted outside your quarters. Their target is me but I do not want to take the chance of you becoming one."
"I did that just before you arrived Warden. Now to other matters, were you able to get to the allied camp?" Anora inquired.
Istabella shook her head, "No I didn't. Zev and I were on our way to see them when we were ambushed. I will do that first thing tomorrow though. Also with the Denerim guard diminished the port area is having problems with thieves. I caught some boys today who stole a merchant's coin purse. I instructed one of Sergeant Kylon's guards to take them to the dungeon to spend the night. Then they are to be taken to the Master Alik, the wood crafter, to be put to work in the morning. If they are in that bad of a need for money they can work for it like everyone else. But we need more guards down there or more frequent patrols."
Anora nodded, drumming her fingers on her mouth. "I will speak to the Sergeant and see what can be done. Maker knows we don't already have enough problems as it is."
After her talk with Anora, Istabella decided not to go back to her room. Instead she went down to the Hall of Kings to spend some time alone at Alistair's tomb. The guards who usually stood there during the day were gone now. Only the flickering candlelight and the always burning bowls of incense graced the hall. With quiet reverence she made her way to the stone coffin he was buried in. The lid on top of him was flat and plain in design. Stone cutters were in the process of working on the lid that would carry a life size replica of him in death's perfect pose.
With her fingers she traced the words carved into the stone base:
In War, Victory. In Peace, Vigilance. In Death, Sacrifice.
Join us, brothers and sisters.
Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant.
Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn.
And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten.
And that one day we shall join you.
Here lies Alistair Theirin, last of the line of King Calenhad.
Slayer of the Archdemon Urthemiel and Hero of Ferelden.
He shall always be remembered and never forgotten.
Walk in peace my love, for one day I shall join you.
Istabella's eyes filled with tears as she read the last sentence. These were the words she had inscribed for him. This was her personal legacy of love to share with future generations. She sat down on the floor in front of his tomb and wept softly. She did not think it was possible that the human body could hold that many tears. She did not allow herself to cry during the day or in front of anybody. A weeping, moping Warden-Commander was not what the people needed. But at night when she could throw off duty, her armor and be herself, then that is when she mourned.
"You still weep for me," a familiar voice said. Istabella looked up to see Alistair standing in front of her.
She knew this was a dream, a figment of her imagination, and yet it seemed so real. To her surprise Istabella was not alarmed but calm as she answered, "I will always weep for you. In the deepest, darkest part of my heart I always will. Why did you do it? You were not supposed too! I was supposed to die! You made me the leader, it was my responsibility not yours!"
The words came out harsh, grating and tear soaked, "It wasn't supposed to be you, it wasn't supposed to be you."
Soft fingers lifted her chin up and lightly brushed away tears. "It was my love, you just didn't know it. You have so much to live for now, a brother and a chance to start a new life. I had no real family, only those who cared for me and wanted to put me on the throne. I could not bear to see your life wasted in death and I could not bear to see you die. I loved you so much that my life was worth sacrificing for you."
The image of Alistair kneeled down before her, kissing her lightly on the lips. Istabella closed her eyes savoring the unreal touch. "You are dream," she whispered softly.
"I am a good dream. You will always be with me Istabella and I will always be with you. No more sadness my love, no more tears." Alistair said putting his forehead to hers and cradling her face. "And should you perish, know that one day you will walk beside me."
Istabella nodded trying to hold back sobs, but was unsuccessful. She felt him leave and the hall felt cold and empty. She crossed her arms over her chest and rocked trying to ease the pain. But it did not go away, even when Leliana entered quietly and took Istabella into her arms offering comfort.