Chapter IV goodbyes

It was past midnight when Ash returned from the chapel. She was exhausted, ready for sleep after her less-than-satisfactory rest of last night, but not eager to return to the den of her nightmares. So, after the odd affair of dinner, she had retired to the pray. She prayed for her brother, that the Maker might watch over him in battle, and for his wife and Bryan. She prayed that her father would be delivered safely home, and for her mother's strength. And she prayed for Duncan. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't question when she felt the desire to pray.

Trying not to dwell on the events of the evening and the days to come, Ash fell heavily on her bed, stifling a groan. She still needed to change… but as she pushed herself up from the bed, she heard Asgar give a stiff, throaty growl. This wasn't a warning growl, like the one he'd given Duncan. This was danger, and she had partnered with her war hound long enough to trust his instincts. Suddenly very awake, she hesitated for only a moment before moving quickly to her closet and pulling on her leather armor and strapping two of her daggers, double-edged steel ones with handles of ebony this time, to her back and a smaller knife to her waist. All the while, Asgar's growl continued unbroken.

Just as she finished arming herself, several things happened at once. Asgar moved to her side, ready to fight, Ash drew both daggers, and the door to the hall splintered. Where there had only been her and Asgar, now there were two more.

Men, fully armored, swords drawn.

No time to think, she threw herself on the closest one. Asgar followed.

Unnerved by the sight of a monstrous hell hound bearing down on him and expecting an easy kill, the first man fell without a fight. The second had the wit to parry a blow from one of Ash's daggers, but Asgar caught him in the side and Ash's other dagger in his chest.

With the immediate threat dead, Ash took a moment to process the situation. The true gravity became apparent. Two men couldn't storm Highever alone. There would be more, and soon. Then, a kick in the gut—her mother, her father, Bryan and his mother! Without thinking, she jumped over the fallen assailants and rushed into the hall. The alarm had to be raised.

She froze as suddenly as she had rushed out. There was no one to alarm. Highever's defenses had left with Fergus hours ago. They were alone, without help.

Four more men appeared at the top of the stairwell. "Where's the lord?" one of them yelled brusquely, taken aback by the armed resistance.

"Maker help me if you'll find out," she growled. Asgar echoed her. The men rushed them, but Ash was ready. The first, the one who had spoken, sent a powerful strike at Ash's chest. She sidestepped coolly and drove a dagger into his side as Asgar slammed him from the other side. Another appeared behind her, which got him the other dagger in the stomach as she wrenched out the first, dealing a backhand blow to his head. He fell. Asgar had the third, which left one more… but as she turned he was running back for the stairs. Pausing for a moment, she threw the dagger in her right hand. It hit home, but with the hilt. By the time he started running again, though, Asgar beset him. A few moments, and he stopped moving.

She quickly moved to reclaim her weapon. If she survived this, she vowed, she would learn how to throw a dagger properly.

Asgar moved suddenly, startling her until she heard the familiar voice of her mother. "Ash, oh, Maker! Ash, are you alright?" Her mother looked her over for wounds, then hugged her much more tightly than Ash would have thought possible.

"Mother, you're ok." Ash breathed. "Where is Father?"

"I don't know," she replied desperately, wringing her hands. "He never came to bed."

Her breath caught in her throat. "What is happening?"

Her mother looked at the fallen men. "These are Howe's," she spat. "Howe, who we received as an honored guest!" Ash was dumbfounded. The figures danced through her mind. Howe's force was three thousand strong at least; at most, Fergus had left only five hundred, and not all of those fighting men.

"If Howe has betrayed us, we are lost," she whispered.

"We must find your father," was her mother's only reply.

"What of Bryan and his mother?"

Her eyes widened. "Yes, we must find them first." Ash spun towards their chambers. Her mother hurried to stride quickly beside her.

The first thing Ash noticed was the door. It was open. Her stomach dropped out of a pit in her gut. Slowly, painfully, she entered the chamber.

The bodies of her sister-in-law and her only nephew lay on the floor, in positions unnatural for life. Ash turned away, tears already choking. She heard her mother begin to pray, broken and halting, behind her. "No, no, no," she repeated softly, eyes on the ceiling. Asgar began to howl.

"M'ladies!" hissed a voice behind them.

Ash jumped and drew her knife, but it was a friend… Ser Roan.

"Ser Roan," her mother sighed.

"M'ladies, you must go," the young knight urged. "Howe has betrayed us. We have the bulk of them at the gates but you must leave while you can!"

"What of my lord husband?" asked Lady Cousland tearfully.

"He went searching for you," Ser Roan replied, lowering his gaze. "In hopes he could find you and escape, we bade him go to the servant's exit, in the kitchens."

"Why do you turn your gaze so, Ser," asked Ash's mother, her eyes pleading.

"The lord was… wounded."

Lady Cousland began to sob.

Ash took her mother's hand. "We will go to the servant's door. He will be there, I'm sure of it. Father is strong." Her mother nodded weakly, tears in her tired eyes. "Ser Roan," she turned, "come with us."

The knight shook his head. "No more will have a chance of escaping unnoticed." He turned back into the hall. "I will delay them as long as I can."

"Ser Roan…"

He smiled, concealing his fear bravely. "Maker bless you, m'ladies."

"And you." She felt tears, stinging in her eyes, and the knight was gone.

Ash turned to her mother. "We must go. Father waits for us."

"Yes…" She glanced again at the bodies of her only grandchild and the wife of her son and looked quickly away. "They will pay for what they have done."

"They will," Ash swore. "Asgar, protect Mother," she directed. Asgar looked at her with understanding. "Maker help us all."

Their unhindered flight to the kitchen was tainted by the knowledge that people were dying for them downstairs. Ash rushed into the kitchen, her mother and Asgar close behind. For a moment, it seemed empty, and then, a hoarse whisper—

"Kate? Ash?"

The two ran to the source of the sound with excitement… and then, dismay. As they reached Lord Cousland, it was clear Ser Roan had understated his injuries. Ash's father was unable to stand, his breathing ragged, clutching a gash through his chest that ran from his neck to the beginning of his right leg. A pool of dark red had already gathered beneath him.

"My love!"

"Father!"

Both knelt beside the dying man. "Father, we'll get you out," Ash whispered. "We'll find you a healer, a mage, anything—you'll be alright, you'll be alright…"

Her father struggled to form the smile, the one she loved. "No, pup," he said through gritted teeth. "I have seen you and your mother safe… but I cannot even stand. Leave me, run, repay Howe for what he has done to our family."

"No! Father, I won't leave you. I won't!" The tears had stopped, replaced by a fierce rage. The time for tears had not yet come.

Pain shot through his eyes, dark and sharp. "You must." His voice was unbearably sad. "Take your mother… go, while you still can…"

Asgar's low growl broke the hushed exchange. In an instant, Ash was on her feet again, in front of her parents, ready to strike down-

Duncan. Ash sheathed her weapons, relieved; Duncan could help them. Duncan could save her father.

"Duncan, thank the Maker! You must help us. My father is injured, badly, he can't stand…"

The Gray Warden knelt beside the fallen lord. They met eyes. "Duncan," Lord Cousland pleaded, "take my daughter and my wife to safety. Please."

Duncan glanced at his wound and back to his eyes. "My friend, I am sorry I can't do more."

"Just take them! Now, take them, leave me and go!"

"I will," Duncan promised gravely. "I am sorry, though; there is something I must ask of you in return."

Ash's father's eyes were blank for a moment, then understanding crept in. "Ash…"

"Yes." Duncan replied, sorrow in his eyes. "I ask that you trust your daughter to the care of the Gray Wardens. It is clear, now, that this is the Maker's will."

Her father's voice was thick with pain and sorrow as he agreed.

Ash listened numbly. No, she thought, not like this…

Duncan stood. "Ash. We must go."

Ash collapsed on her knees, grasping her father's hand, the one that wasn't trying to hold closed the gaping wound in his chest… the tears were coming now. "Father, he will pay, I promise you, I swear it. And, Maker willing, then I will join you."

"You must not say that, pup." The pain again. He looked in her eyes, and she saw love and hope and comfort and strength… "Live." Ash didn't want to look away from her father's eyes. He kissed her hand. "Now go!"

Gently, Duncan pulled her to her feet. "Mother," she croaked through her tears. She froze again. She hadn't noticed, but her mother had not moved from her place cradling her father's head in her arms since they had entered. "No," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Go," her mother repeated hoarsely. "My place is by my husband's side, sweet daughter." She looked at her daughter with sadness, but the same hope and love that she'd seen in her father's eyes. "I love you, my child. Go with the Maker's blessing, and with ours." She squeezed her husband's hand.

"Kate…" her husband breathed. "I never wanted this."

"I will die by your side, my husband. That is all I could have wanted."

For the first time she could remember, Ash saw her father cry.

Then there were shouts in the hall. She was vaguely aware of Duncan pulling her through the concealed servant's door and of struggling against him, and later thought she could hear her own voice, repeating no over and over.

Then, nothing.