Chapter Seven:
Vengeance
Anders pressed relentlessly on through the rolling hills, Behemot bounding at his side. He had found the makeshift camp, had found Sebastian's body pierced with arrows. Dead, then, but not at Sarai's hand, since she was not proficient as an archer. The footprints told him that others had been at the camp and moved on; it was this trail he now struggled to follow. His thoughts tormented him. What if she was never there with Sebastian? What if she was injured in the battle and is lying somewhere even now, wounded—or dead? Anders swallowed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Let me find her. Let me be fast enough.
He came upon the Templar camp as the sun was setting. He would have stumbled directly into it if Behemot hadn't stopped and given a warning growl. Man and Mabari snuck around the outskirts of the camp. It was bordered on one side by a stand of trees; Anders his and tried to peer into the camp.
The armor told him that they were Templars. It took a tremendous effort of will to keep himself in control at that point, to keep from charging in mindlessly to kill them. That's what you did last night, with Sebastian's men, and look where it got you, he scolded himself.
The Templars prepared their evening meal and sat around the fire. He observed one of the younger Templars take a dish of food into a small tent. One of their own—wounded, perhaps? Or a prisoner? He watched for several more minutes, until the Templar came out of the tent. Then he saw her, emerging into the twilight. Her legs were chained.
No no no "No!" he roared, losing himself to that inner fire. The Templars looked up, shock on their faces. He charged into the camp, killing them with blasts of pure energy, not even bothering to cast spells. Sarai was their prisoner, and he would—he must—free her. A sword came down on his shoulder, but he knew it could not hurt him. I am Vengeance. Nothing can stop me.
The Templars fell before him, one after another. He dimly saw the fear and shock on their faces as their resolve melted away. Then the Templars were gone and he rushed to her; but another figure rose up in front of him. He saw the robes, saw the gray-white hair, but all he recognized was an obstacle. He raised a hand to strike.
"Anders, no! Don't hurt her!" The voice is almost enough to bring him back to himself. Almost.
"I will destroy all Templars! All those who threaten you!"
"She's not a Templar—she's a mage!" Sarai couldn't help but remember having this conversation before, with different Templars, a different mage. Has anything changed?
"She is one of them! She travels with them!"
"Anders, please. Don't do this."
Hearing the pain in Sarai's voice, he brought himself under control. Now he could recognize Wynne from the Circle, but she was not his concern. Instead, he turned and crossed the distance between himself and his love. "I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching out a hand.
Before their fingers could touch, an arrow flew through the darkness, out of the stand of trees, and caught Anders between the ribs. He gasped and fell forward. Now it was Sarai's turn to scream.
"No!" She fell to her knees, grabbing for the dagger at his waist. Her legs were still chained, and she couldn't move more than a few feet from the tent. Quickly, she stood over him, brandishing the dagger. The second arrow she cut out of the air. "You will not have him!"
Wynne was nowhere to be seen. Not knowing what else to do, Sarai grabbed Anders and awkwardly dragged him back into the tent. There must still be Templars hiding in the trees, she thought as she cradled Anders' head in her lap.
"Anders, can you hear me? Please, Anders..."
His eyes fluttered open. "Sarai," he murmured. Blood spotted his lips.
"Anders, I'm so sorry—if I hadn't said anything, distracted you, they couldn't have hurt you."
He closed his eyes again. His mana was spent, nothing left for healing or for fighting. "They'll kill us both, now."
"With all due respect to your naysaying, no, they won't." Sarai and Anders both looked up in surprise at this third voice. Wynne ducked into the tent, pulling the flap closed behind her.
"Wynne? What are you doing here?" Sarai asked, surprised.
"It seems I owe you my life, Sarai Hawke," Wynne replied. "I intend to repay the favor." She looked Anders over with a critical eye. "You'll have to remove the arrow; I will repair the damage."
Sarai was startled, but hurried to do as the older mage instructed. She carefully gripped the arrow and pulled it out. Anders gave a short cry of pain, but Wynne let her magic flow into him. After several moments of concentration, she said, "There. I don't think we can spare the time to do a full healing right now, but you will live."
Anders' only response was to glare darkly at Wynne. "Sarai," he said harshly, "Don't trust her. She's loyal to the Templars. She'll turn us in as soon as she has a chance."
Frowning, Sarai leaned close to Anders. She gently put her hand on the side of his face. "Anders, she saved your life. She healed me earlier. Be more grateful."
"Healed you?" Anders replied, suddenly concerned. "What happened?" He began looking her over, noticing for the first time the shiny new skin on her legs.
"Sebastian," she replied softly.
Anders choked on his anger. "Sebastian? What did he do to you?"
Sarai looked away. "It's not important. What matters is that I'm safe now—thanks in no small part to Wynne."
Wynne had watched this exchange with some interest. "You are a lucky man, Anders," she remarked now. "To have found a woman who can put up with your moods. Maker knows I can't."
Just then, they heard a self-satisfied bark outside. Sarai lifted the tent flap to see Behemot, his face streaked with blood. "Did you kill the other Templars?" she asked. He barked again, apparently pleased with himself.
"That's good news for you two," Wynne said. "Now we need to get you out of here. I know a place where you'll be safe. You can stay there and recover."
"Wynne, why are you helping us?" Sarai asked. "Not that I don't appreciate what you've done. But I was under the impression that you... well, approved of the Templars."
"As I told you, I do not believe Templars are monsters, but neither do I believe they are innocent," she replied. "In any case, they are dead now, and there is nothing I can do about that. As for why I choose to help you?" Wynne smiled to herself. "Let us just say that I still remember a frightened mage-boy who wanted nothing more than to feel safe. Perhaps I can finally assist him."
Anders looked at Wynne with something like amazement in his eyes. Before he could respond, she rose quickly and looked out of the tent. "Your Mabari has done his work well, it seems. Let's take care of those chains and be on our way." She went out, searching the dead Templars until she found a ring of keys. She returned quickly and freed Sarai, who rubbed her ankles gratefully.
Slowly, Wynne and Sarai helped Anders make his way out of the camp. The elder mage led them to the road and on their way.
~—~
Another night of tracking left Varric feeling particularly frustrated. When he finally caught up to his companions in the hours before dawn, he was surprised to find them traveling in the company of another mage.
"So what, you think you've upgraded or something? From a loyal, handsome, entertaining dwarf to an old lady mage?"
Sarai turned, delighted, and threw her arms around Varric. "Thank Andraste you found us! I didn't know what happened to you after you left."
"I'll tell you what happened! I spent all night wandering around, searching for Blondie here, and by the time I gave up and went back to check on you, you were gone. Captured by Templars, I gather."
"How did you know that?" Sarai asked.
"Because I stumbled across a camp full of dead Templars a few hours ago. All the melted armor and swords suggested it was Blondie's handiwork."
"I take it this is a friend of yours?" Wynne asked pointedly.
"Oh, yes, forgive me. Wynne, this is Varric, house Tethras. Varric, this is Wynne. She's helping to get us to safety."
"Wynne, huh? The only Ferelden mage named Wynne I've heard of was a companion to the hero of Ferelden."
"You know your stories, Varric Tethras," replied Wynne with a smile.
"Stories are my business, my lady," Varric said with an exaggerated bow. He straightened and frowned. "Actually, business is my business. Stories are my passion. In any case, I'm sure you have some interesting ones to tell."
"I might have one or two," she admitted. "But this is hardly the time for it. There's a farmstead not too far from here. The couple who lives there are friends, of a sort."
"Of a sort?" Anders said skeptically. "What exactly are you getting us into?"
"They are no enemy to runaway mages," Wynne assured. "They will give us shelter, at least until you two have recovered."
"Then let's keep moving," Sarai urged. "This day has been far too long already."
~—~