Chapter 6 – Forewarned is Forearmed

The late autumn sky was grey and the winds whisking through the Hinterlands carried a trace of snow as the contingent from Haven marched toward the scout camp near Redcliffe. Discreetly, Sian watched the Left and Right Hands of the Divine walking side by side just a stone's throw away. It was easy to picture the two of them gallivanting about Thedas, toiling away at extending the Divine's reach just as Cassandra told her – giving, taking, beckoning and, when necessary, making a fist. Both were animated as they talked, heads close – every stride in step with each other.

Leliana's voice carried to her ears like the tinkle of soft chimes. Enigmatic, mysterious, fluidly quick and lethal as an adder, she was the perfect embodiment of a Spymaster. Yet, she had shown real empathy the night before as Sian finally confronted Brigid's death. As the former bard held her, soothed her and shared her own pain, the noble began to appreciate Leliana's patience and kindness. She'd lost a sister – but in that kinship of grief had gained one of another sort.

She heard Cassandra suddenly laugh – a rarity that brought a smile to Sian's face. From her vantage, she could study the Seeker. She admired the contrasts the woman represented: light and dark, sacred and profane; power and compassion; hard angles and soft curves. She watched enraptured as Leliana reached over and casually dusted snowflakes from Cassandra's neck. For just a moment, she was envious. Focusing on the bare skin just over the Seeker's collar, she felt a longing to taste that exact spot. Sian shook her head, trying to return to less intimate thoughts while truly acknowledging that her feelings for Cassandra were not, in any way shape or form – sisterly.

She needed to focus. They had work to do. But the more she thought of it, the more she realized that if they acquired the help of the mages and managed to close the Breach, the Inquisition would soon have no need of her services. Perhaps it would be best not to allow herself to consider any possibilities with the Seeker. In any event, Cassandra hadn't indicated any interest, despite Varric's crazy notions. Yes, best to let it go.

XXX

About mid-morning they arrived at the Inquisition camp outside of Redcliffe. Swiftly, a decision was made to keep the party visiting the mages small so as not to appear threatening. With Cassandra, Varric and Solas in tow, Sian led them to the gates of the village. Of course, the day would have been incomplete without the presence of, what turned out to be, a particularly nasty rift. As the Herald closed the thing, she realized that it felt odd. Cassandra observed that it felt like time itself had stopped and started. Was that even possible? Sian wasn't sure but it made her nape itch. Wary, they approached the gates, halting long enough to speak with a scout just inside.

The soldier seemed discomfited as he reported the situation. "We spread word of the Inquisition's impending arrival, Herald, but no one was expecting us."

"No one?" Sian was incredulous. Rubbing her chin thoughtfully, she questioned the scout. "Not even the Grand Enchanter?"

"If she was – she told no one."

Breathless, a rebel mage ran up, stopped and gave a short bow to the party. "Apologies! Magister Alexius is in charge now but hasn't arrived as of yet. He's expected any time now. If you wish to see him, you may wait at the Gull and Lantern Tavern." Helpfully, he added, "You could speak with the former Grand Enchanter in the meantime."

Magister. The word pulled Sian up short. It could mean only one thing – Tevinter. She had spent many long days in the north watches of Ostwick repelling incursions of miscreants from that country. They always seemed to be looking for something and Sian had long postulated that the something was the missing slaves her father harbored. The small bands always seemed to be mages and troops bearing the heraldry of some unknown Magister. Looking up, she shared a glance with the Seeker. As their eyes met, the Herald recognized agreement. This was a troubling development.

"Send a runner to the Outskirts Camp immediately. I want this reported to Sister Leliana without delay." Sian commanded the scout, then turned to her party. "Thoughts anyone?"

"Smells worse than last week's catch. I just wonder if, His Ebullience, King Alistair, is aware of this." Varric unslung Bianca and checked the tension bolt, giving her a quick pat before he returned her to his back. "What could a Magister hope to gain?"

"An excellent point, Varric." Solas stepped to Sian, his eyes thoughtful.

Cassandra joined him. "If he is now in charge, then where is Arl Teagan? The man steadfastly refused to abandon his lands during the blight – even when they were under siege. I cannot possibly imagine him allowing a Tevinter Magister any authority over Redcliffe." Squinting, she surveyed the area swiftly. "I see no sign of Tevinter troops. However, that does not mean there are none. It would be wise to check the docks for activity."

Sian regarded her companions, "I know I don't need to ask that you be on your guard. But something is definitely wrong here. I say we proceed – but carefully. If Sulevin is unsheathed, prepare to fight and rendezvous at camp." She then turned to the Inquisition troops nearby. "Be ready to have our backs if there's trouble."

As they made their way to the Lake Calenhad docks there was no sign of Tevinters. But as they approached the quay, Sian spied a young mage with a restless look about him. She looked to Cassandra and nodded questioningly toward the distressed figure.

The Seeker leaned to her. "I believe that is Connor, Arl Eamon's son."

"The one at the center of the trouble here during the Blight?" Sian's eyebrows quirked as she studied him.

"The same." Cassandra confirmed.

Curious, Sian approached him. "Are you Connor?"

"Yes - and you are the one they call the Herald of Andraste." The young man sighed. "You've heard the story, I guess?" His voice was weary and filled with regret as he spoke. "I can't believe King Alistair thought Redcliffe was the right place to send the mages. I mean he grew up here. Did he think people would just forget what I did to them – the trouble I caused?"

"Connor, I'm not here to dreg up the past. I'm concerned about Redcliffe." Sian saw the despair written in his eyes. "Tell me what's happened here."

"I was living in the Ferelden Tower when the circles dissolved. I voted against it, but… At first, it seemed all right. No one was summoning demons. They just wanted to oversee themselves. But then the Magister came and… It's wrong what they do in Tevinter. We are monsters. We need to be controlled. If it wasn't for me every family in this village wouldn't be missing a son, a daughter, a spouse." The mage seemed fragile, perhaps even broken by the events of the past.

"Where is your uncle?" She gently prodded him.

Looking at his feet, he told her. "That Magister threw my Uncle out into the street. He signed us into servitude. This is my home. Redcliffe. Ferelden. No matter what evils I've done, I would never have invited Tevinter here."

"Where are this Magister's troops?" Sian knew the Arl would only have been removed by force.

"At the castle." Connor pointed to the structure in the distance. "I've seen none in the village."

"Thank you, Connor."

The former heir to Redcliffe gripped her arm as Sian turned to leave, his voice ringing with desperation. "Please talk some sense into the Grand Enchanter. Selling out to the Imperium won't win us any friends. We have to find a way to make peace. "

Sian covered his hand with her own and pledged. "I will do everything in my power to stop this."

The Herald led the way toward the Gull and Lantern with the Seeker at her side. Though there were no troops in the village that didn't mean that there was no trap waiting to spring. But, it was a relief to know that the villagers weren't likely to see open warfare in the streets.

Upon entry, Sian discovered that the Gull and Lantern was like every other tavern she'd ever been in with the possible exception of the distinct chill in the air. A waft of stale ale assaulted her nose and the straw covered floor muffled the click of her boots as the party sought out the Grand Enchanter. They found her pacing near a table in the back of the common room.

"Welcome, Agents of the Inquisition." Fiona intoned as she spied them. "What has brought you to Redcliffe?"

"You did invite us? Did you not?" Sian politely inquired, forcing herself to relax as she spoke. "You extended an offer of the mage's assistance in Val Royeaux."

The Grand Enchanter seemed perplexed and genuinely surprised. "That isn't possible. I haven't been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave."

"If it wasn't you – then who was it?"

The elf gripped a nearby table, her face drained. "I… I don't know. Now that you say it, I feel… strange." Recovering somewhat she straightened. "Whoever, whatever brought you here, the situation has changed. The free mages have already pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium."

Varric piped up. "Wow. The Tevinter Imperium – what a great idea! How's that working out for you?"

"Do you not fear all of Thedas turning on you?" Cassandra bristled, her fingers tapping the hilt of her sword.

Fiona seemed dazed. "As one indentured to a Magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you."

Sian leveled a withering gaze at the mage. "You do know what this means, right? You understand that the freedom you worked so hard to win is gone. You've given it away!"

At that moment, she heard a rich baritone behind her. "Welcome, my friends. I apologize for not greeting you earlier."

The former Grand Enchanter stepped back. "Agents of the Inquisition, allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius."

Magister Alexius smiled as he studied Sian, his tone patriarchal, patronizing as he spoke. "The southern mages are now under my command. And you are the survivor, yes? The one who returned from the fade? Interesting."

His authoritative air didn't sit well with the Herald. She'd met dozens of men like this in her lifetime. Men who believed if they talked a certain way and acted a certain way that they could control others. Refusing to rise to the poisonous alchemy, she cut to the chase. "So, the mages are now conveniently indentured. To you."

"For their own well-being, I assure you. They have no legal status in the Imperium. As their protector, I will oversee their work. You see – they must work for ten years to gain full rights." Slightly leaning toward the Herald, he told her in a low voice, "Of course, this has been an expensive venture. After they are properly trained, they will join our legion."

Fiona seemed to have recovered and overheard his comment. "You said not all my people would be military. There are children, those not suited to –"

Pivoting swiftly, he glared at her. "And one day I'm sure they will all be productive citizens of the Imperium."

Privately Sian wondered if Fiona realized what her own fate would be in Tevinter. Didn't she know that to be an elf in the Imperium pretty much guaranteed a life of slavery? She seriously doubted that the elf mage would have agreed to any of this willingly and suspected Alexius of casting some spell or glamour that must have compromised her. The Herald cleared her throat. "When was this arrangement made?"

Charm laced with pity adorned the Magister's voice as he focused his attention to the Herald. "After the tragedy of the Conclave, the Templars brutally rushed to attack them. It could only be through divine providence that I arrived in such a timely manner."

Disdain dripping from her tongue, Fiona noted. "It was certainly timely."

Still concerned for the Arl, Sian coolly stated. "I haven't seen any sign of the Arl of Redcliffe – or his guard."

Alexius waved his hand as if shooing a fly. "The Arl left the village."

Sian felt her ears redden at the falsehood. Cassandra stepped to her side, and gently placed her palm on The Herald's forearm as she lightly snorted. "I do not believe that likely, Magister."

The feel of Cassandra's hand on her arm was comforting. Sian felt the cache of power the Seeker was holding ready to dispel the Magister's tricks and it calmed her.

"There were tensions growing." Alexius seemed genuinely nervous as he made his admission. "I did not want an incident."

"An interesting course in that case." Sian directed her gaze at him. "In any event, I need the mage's assistance to close the Breach."

The Magister seated himself at the table and gestured toward the chair facing him. "Please, join me." Waving to a well-dressed young man who had been silent, but vigilant, during their conversation, he made a request. "Felix, would you send for a scribe, please?" Quickly he introduced the man, who elegantly bowed to the Herald and her party. "Pardon my manners. My son, Felix, friends." Returning to the business at hand, Alexius made a frank observation. "I'm not surprised you're here. Containing the breach is not a feat that many could even attempt. There is no telling how many mages would be needed for such an endeavor. Ambitious, indeed."

"Will you lend your mages to our cause?" Sian asked him bluntly.

Alexius seemed to be considering the notion when suddenly Felix reeled near Sian. She snapped to her feet just in time to catch him as he appeared to faint. Just before he closed his eyes, he directed them to his hand, then pressed a note into her palm.

The Magister reacted quickly, leaping to his son's aid. "Felix! Are you all right?!"

Righting himself, Felix apologized. "I'm fine, father. I don't mean to trouble everyone."

The Magister gently supported his son. "Come. I'll get your powders. Please excuse us, friends. We will have to continue this at a later hour. Fiona, I require your assistance back at the castle." As Fiona attended him, he turned to Sian. "I shall send word to your camp when I am available. We can conclude this business then."

As the door clicked shut, Cassandra quickly inquired. "What does it say?"

Sian unfolded the note and read aloud. "Come to the Chantry. You are in danger."

Varric chortled. "Oooh. So mysterious! This just keeps getting better and better."

"Anything could be awaiting us at the Chantry. It could be anyone or anything." Solas sagely observed.

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Sian ran a hand through her dark hair. "Let's go see – shall we?"

XXX

The Chantry appeared to be quiet, but as Sian opened the great door and entered, she was greeted by the sight of a lone man fighting a horde of demons. She stood transfixed and the door boomed closed behind her as she watched him swiftly and single-handedly dispatching the horde.

Deftly flicking his bladed staff into the last terror, he drolly noted her presence. "Good. You've finally arrived. Be so kind as to close this thing would you?"

Shrugging as she admired his neat work, Sian stepped forward and shut the rift down.

As the sickly green light waned, the mage stepped forward, rubbing his chin in wonder. "Fascinating. How does that work exactly? You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers and boom! Rift closes."

He sounded for all the world like a cock-sure little prat, but he had just killed off a fairly large passel of demons alone. Sian scratched her head and considered him with curiosity. "And you are?"

"Ah. Getting ahead of myself again, I see. Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?" He nodded civilly and brushed a mote from his spotless mantle.

Cassandra shifted her shield to her shoulder but still gripped her longsword. "Another Tevinter. Be cautious with this one."

Dorian leaned into his staff with a melodramatic groan. "Suspicious friends you have here. Magister Alexius was once my mentor, so my assistance should be invaluable – as I'm sure you can imagine."

Sian had met, and questioned a number of Tevinter mages in her work back home and they had all proven to be tedious and over-reaching, but this man had flair and charisma. Amongst the flock she had previously met, this man would be a peacock among crows. Though he struck her as unique, she still proceeded with caution. "I was expecting Felix to be here."

Still preening, Dorian was quick to inform her. "I'm certain he's on his way. He was to give you the note, then meet us here after ditching his father."

"He pretended to faint. The Magister couldn't get to him quickly enough it seemed. Is Felix truly unwell?"

"He's had some lingering illness for months. Alexius is a mother hen when it comes to his only child. He may be having difficulties escaping his father's ministrations."

The escapade cooked up between Felix and Dorian piqued Sian's curiosity. They seemed to have gone to great lengths to speak with her. "So…? "

Dorian sighed heavily and interrupted. "All right! Let's say this once. I'm a mage from Tevinter. But not a member of the Magisterium." Disdainfully, he took on a lecturing tone. "I know you southerners use the terms interchangeably, but that only makes you sound like barbarians."

Sian raised her eyebrows and chuckled indulgently. "Well, that clarity is very helpful I'm sure. But actually I was going to ask why you have chosen to betray your mentor?"

"Oh." The mage cleared his throat and had the decency to blush a tiny bit before regaining his superior attitude. "Alexius was my mentor, meaning he's not any longer – not for some time." His eyes telegraphed real concern as he explained. "Look. You must know there's danger. That should be obvious even without the note. Let's start with Alexius claiming the mages right out from under you." Dorian leaned on his staff as his offhand trailed the room. "Magical – wouldn't you say? He distorted time to arrive here before the Inquisition could arrive."

Remembering Cassandra's comment, Sian closed her eyes and pictured the rift at the gate. "He does something to the rifts – or with the rifts. He managed to alter time so he could be here right after the Divine's death."

"Exactly so. You catch on quick." Dorian clucked with approval. "The rift here. The one you just closed. You saw how it twisted time around itself, sped some things up – slowed others down. Soon there will be more like it and they'll appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable – and it's unraveling the world."

Sian rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Magical time control?"

Dorian's voice was grave, his eyes serious. "I know what I'm talking about. I helped develop this magic. When I was still his apprentice, it was pure theory, Alexius could never get it to work. What I don't understand is why he's doing it? Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackeys? It doesn't add up."

Boot heels resounded on the marble floor as Felix arrived. "It's somewhat more complicated than that – he didn't do it for them."

"Felix." The mage chided gently as he strode to his friend's side. "Took you long enough. Is he getting suspicious?"

"No." Felix smiled weakly. "Though I shouldn't have played the illness card. I thought he'd be fussing over me all day." The young man turned to Sian. "I never would have believed my father would do this – but he's joined a cult of Tevinter Supremacists. They call themselves "Venatori". And I can tell you one thing: whatever he's doing for them, he's done it to get to you."

Cassandra moved to Sian's side protectively. "Why would you work against your own father?" She growled.

Felix stood his ground unarmed without flinching. "For the same reason Dorian works against him. I love my father and I love my country. But this? Cults? Time magic? This is madness. For his own sake you must stop him."

"It would also be very nice if he didn't rip a hole in time." Dorian rolled his eyes at the Seeker. "There's already a hole in the sky."

Cassandra snorted and relaxed but maintained her proximity. Sian smiled and clandestinely winked at her as the Seeker sheathed her weapon, disarming her on a different level.

"I don't understand." The Herald returned her attention to the two Tevinters. "Why would he go to all of this trouble? Why rearrange time and indenture the mages just to get to me?"

Clasping his hands behind his back, Felix looked at her sympathetically. "They're obsessed with you. I don't know why. Perhaps because you survived the Conclave? But if the Venatori are behind those rifts, or the Breach in the sky – they're even worse than I imagined."

Dorian pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose. "You can close rifts. Maybe there's a connection? Or maybe they see you as a threat?"

"I suppose either could be true." Sian admitted. Standing quietly, she considered the two men. It seemed hard to believe that they would take her side against their fellow countrymen but they appeared to be very sincere in doing exactly that thing. Her gut said trust them – so she went with it. "All right. We need a plan."

Dorian rested his head on his staff. Apparently, for all of his bluff and bluster he'd been worried that she wouldn't believe him. He looked up, relief in his eyes. "You know you're his target. Expecting the trap is the first step to turning it to your advantage. I don't want Alexius to know I'm here and I want to keep it that way for now. You are camped outside of the village, yes? I'll meet you there." Straightening, he pivoted elegantly to depart. As he walked away, his smirked at his friend, "Oh. And Felix? Try not to get yourself killed."

Sian heard Felix's soft retort and shuddered at the implications. "There are worse things than dying, Dorian."

XXX

Sian's squad arrived back at camp to find that Commander Cullen had arrived from Haven. Immediately, the Agents of the Inquisition gathered around a makeshift strategy table.

The Herald considered the faces around her, the air thick with expectation. She drew a deep breath and cracked her neck before opening the meeting with a quick summary for Cullen and Leliana detailing their findings in Redcliffe.

Leliana handed her a message. "That would explain this. It arrived a short time ago. Alexius has invited you to meet with him at the castle." As Sian took the paper, the spymaster crossed her arms. "What do you think best?"

The Herald knew it would be the trap. She felt it in her bones as a surety. Gravely she answered. "I must go."

"Not without troops at your back!" Cullen seemed near apoplexy at the thought. "And Redcliffe – Redcliffe is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults. If you go there – you'll die. You are the only one who can close the rifts. The only one! I won't allow it!"

"I must go." Sian stubbornly repeated as she crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow at him. "But you are right. I wasn't planning on storming the castle. I think it's time to think more creatively than that."

Cassandra spoke up quickly, "We need the mages and Redcliffe is in the hands of a Magister. This cannot be allowed to stand."

The map spread before them was a recent blueprint of the castle. Leliana searched it, seeming to look for something obscure. Finding it, she grinned lethally. "Look at this." She pointed at a foundation still standing at the edge of the village. "I know this place. There is a secret passage here that leads to the castle. It was built as an escape route for the family many years ago. I know it well. It is too narrow for troops – but, I could send my agents through easily."

The Commander peered at her skeptically. "Too risky. Those agents would be discovered long before they reach the Magister."

"That is why the envoy is essential." The Spymaster pointed out. "Alexius wants it. He would be focused on meeting the Herald, not a silent invasion."

Sighing Cullen conceded. "It might work, but it's still risky."

"Fortunately, you'll have my help." Dorian's voice carried from the edge of the encampment. Inquisition troops stood in front of him, polearms crossed, barring his way. Apparently he'd amplified their voices and heard the plan. At a nod from the Herald the soldiers dropped their guard. Blithely the mage strode to Sian's side. "Your spies will never get past Alexius's magic without my help. So. If you're going after him, I'm coming along."

"I welcome your assistance, Dorian." Sian extended her arm and the Tevinter clasped it with a smug grin for Cassandra.

"I will be watching you, Tevinter." The Seeker scowled, stepping to Sian's side with her hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

"Of course you will." Dorian agreed, flashing her a charming smile.

Cullen watched the exchange and shook his head, then turned to Sian. "Are you sure about this?"

The Herald looked grim and her voice was resolute. "I am."