Chapter 8
Fires of Redcliffe
It was decided that they would follow the winding shore of Lake Calenhad east and then north, passing the Arling of Redcliffe and through Gherlen's Pass to the gates of the Dwarven City. August guessed that they had managed to scrounge enough supplies to safely get them at least as far as the village of Redcliffe. There they could resupply for their journey to Orzammar.
"-altogether, Maker willing, we should reach the village in three days, and then another two to reach Orzammar once we re-supply." August finished. They had already left Lothering behind them and made camp at the side of the Imperial Highway for the night. His companions all sat around a large campfire. The flickering flames casting their varied features in a mixture of oranges, yellows, reds and ambers. "That off course is the optimistic timeline unless bad weather, bandits or another war-band of Darkspawn get in the way."
Lelianna spoke up after a moment of silence, "What about the lake? Could we not barter passage across on a trading or passenger ship?"
Alistair shook his head. "No, sorry to say. This time of year every lake Captain with half a brain would be converging on Redcliffe village. It's early Autumn and the village is an important trade route for goods from Orlais to the rest of the country."
August nodded, seeing the sense. Just a few years ago Ferelden had re-opened diplomatic relations with Orlais, including a strengthening of the current non-aggression pact and additional trade agreements. Since then merchants and traders from Orlais had been using Redcliffe Village as an important hub to get their goods and material across. It's position just south of the border fortresses in Gherlen's Pass as well as it's docks on Lake Calenhad had made it indispensible. Local ship Captains had made a bit of coin volunteering their ships and boats to ferry cargo across to the Bannorn and from there the rest of the Country.
It had fast become a lucrative enterprise, helping the Guerrin family regain much of their wealth lost during the occupation. It had been good for the rest of the country as well, with luxurious goods from clothes and furniture to food and drink suddenly becoming available to both the Nobility and the Freeholders.
"Tis quite interesting that someone like you would know these things, hmm?" Morrigan preened in delight, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I believe I have it. You were an orphaned thief from Redcliffe Village."
"Ah does your wit know no bounds," Alistair mocked good-naturedly or August hoped it was such. "And just so you know I am remaining by my original story. That I was raised by wolves and slept in stables."
Morrigan scoffed, but said nothing else. Across from her Gwyneth sighed, rolling her eyes. The Circle Mage had seemed better since they left Lothering, like a huge weight had been lifted from her slender shoulders. He was glad to see it.
"Right, now that you two are quite finished we can continue." August said before turning to Lelianna. "It's early to mid-August, which means that the aforementioned trade will be in full swing until just before the first snow falls. Every ship Captain with a solid ship will be carrying cargo to the rest of the country via Redcliffe, so good idea but very difficult and probably expensive."
"It seems most inefficient." Sten grumbled, white brow furrowing. "Surely it would be cheaper and more competent to commission ships than place them on every single boat in the harbour."
"As far as the trading goes it's early days yet, but I remember there was such a plan to be discussed at the next Landsmeet. That would have to be placed on hold, with recent events." August explained.
The giant rumbled, but soon was once again silent.
"Talk of trade aside will we really have enough supplies to get us too Redcliffe. Lothering didn't have much it could spare unless you count our act of horse theft." Gwyneth said, smirking when she saw Alistair groan in despair at the memory. Varis could be heard snickering beside her.
August shrugged, "If we do run out of supplies the Lake will be a prime source of fresh water, and this far north hunting should also be safe."
There were mumblings of agreement across the party.
"I know you're all probably tired of me saying this but I'll remind you again. The three Grey Warden treaties call upon the Dwarves, Dalish Elves and Mages to aide us during a Blight. These are the peoples we need to gather. Our first objective will be Orzammar, homeland of the Dwarves. Once we have their aide we'll head east to enlist the Mages Circle at Kinloch Hold. I don't see much issue with either camps. The Dalish will be more difficult, but with a Witch of the Wilds on our side we should be able to contact the tribes and present the treaty. Will that be possible, Morrigan?" He sparred a look at the Apostate for confirmation.
The witch frowned for a moment, "Twill be very possible. Mother had been in contact with several powerful clans, and their migratory patterns are known to me."
"Very good." August nodded before turning back to the main group, a plan of action presented and clear. "This is our mission, as Grey Wardens and allies of Grey Wardens. Are there any questions?"
There was none.
"We will be setting up watches throughout the night in shifts of three hours to make sure nobody gets the jump on us. Tonight it will be me, then Alistair and Gwyneth. We will be doing rotas each night and no one is exempt." August added. "We leave at dawn, so get as much sleep as you can."
After breakfast and breaking up the camp the group of seven were travelling just as the sun fully left the horizon. The small group travelled along the Imperial Highway, hugging tightly around the shoreline of the great Lake which was named after the founder of the Country. August had never seen the Lake before, and was mesmerised by the sight, the shimmering silver waters which seemed to stretch for as far as the eye could see, only ending several meters to their right on stony beaches of pebbles. To their left were the rolling hills and grassy knolls of West Hills.
When they setup camp the following night they found that they weren't alone. A father and son duo of Dwarven Traders, Bodahn and Sandal Feddic. The father had explained he had seen their campfire and recognised them from Lothering and asked if they could travel along with them for protection. The two of them had been in Lothering during the battle it seemed. August had agreed, and in return the Dwarves had allowed them to see their wares, even bringing them down in price.
As the days wore on he began to notice some things about his companions. The most obvious was that Lelianna was very skilled at playing the lute, and was also a beautiful singer. She would regale them of stories and songs when asked, both Ferelden and Orlesian. Even Sten and Morrigan seemed interested in them, though they would never admit it. August enjoyed her performances, there was something melodic and soothing about her voice, especially when she sang.
Gwyneth had watched the Sisters performances with much interest. Her former fears of Lelianna and Alistair slowly melting away the longer she associated with them. She and Lelianna got on especially well. He couldn't remember when it happened but by the third night the two women were talking quietly but excitedly around the campfire. By the fourth night Lelianna was teaching her how to play the lute.
He, Alistair and Varis also seemed to get along very well. It was amazing what happened around a roaring campfire with the smells of roasting meat and warm Ale in their bellies. The three of them shared stories of their former lives, and as one would predict the stories of a former Noble, a Templar and a City Elf were as different and intriguing as you could get. By the end of the night they were roaring with laughter with a dash of melancholy for what they had left behind.
Of the group Morrigan and Sten remained the most aloof. The Witch continued to setup her own camp a fair bit away from the main group, though she still turned up when it was her time to keep watch. Sten on the other hand did remain within the main camp, but usually retired early.
There had also been, to his relief, no attempts to attack him or his party while they were on the road. No bandits waited for them in ambush, and no Darkspawn swarmed from the wilderness to attack them. For the bandits he considered that their group was too large and well armoured to be attacked, as for the Darkspawn he guessed that they had not reached this far thanks to the efforts of the army.
Whatever the reasons were he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth and go actively looking for trouble, so on the road they stayed. By midway through the fifth day they reached the outskirts of Redcliffe village. The settlement was just over a few more hills. They would cross them and be there, re-supply, maybe stay the night at the inn and finally complete the rest of their journey.
There was a saying about the best laid plans. August scowled under his breath as he realised how true the saying was.
They had come to the hill just before Redcliffe village and August would have taken his group into the settlement without a care had he not noticed that something was wrong. The lack of smoke from the chimneys of the majority of the homes and the equal lack of boats and ships at the docks made it apparent. Alistair wasn't as quick but still quick enough to notice before they reached the outskirts of the village.
They learned that the village was under siege, but not by Darkspawn or Orlesians but by a small army of undead corpses. Three days ago animated dead had attacked the settlement from the Castle and each night since they had attacked and not given up until dawn. The villagers and a handful of Knights fought back but by the time they arrived a third of the population were dead and what was left were scared out of their minds.
They had abandoned the majority of the village and taken refuge around the villages Chantry. The women and children ushered into the protection of its stone walls while what was left of the men took up whatever arms they could to protect their families. August immediately took control of the situation, ignoring the impatient barbs from Morrigan and Sten as he got a hold of what was happening and what needed to be done. Bodahn and Sandal were sent into the Cahntry, and started helping however they could. He sent Lelianna to coerce the local blacksmith out of his home and found that in return they were to save his daughter who was trapped within the castle. He, Alistair and Sten had gone to the docks and managed to threaten a Dwarf merchant and his hired help to aide in the defence or die a slow and agonising death. He knew an Apostate he could negotiate with to that end.
A little more questioning of the Knights had turned up some interesting results. Arl Eamon Guerrin had taken ill suddenly, and his brother had been sent to lead the Redcliffe column in his stead. The column had not been two days down the road when undead monsters started swarming from the castle and attacking the village and every freehold within a kilometre. it was too late to recall them and the men left behind had thought they could deal with the situation themselves. They marched into the castle last night and hadn't been seen since.
That left his party, a few dozen determined village folk and a half dozen of the Arl's Knights. A sudden flash of déjà vu took him. He shook it off and got back to the issue at hand. According to those who had fought this enemy they always attacked from the same place, an enclosed road just past the windmill. He had Varis and Lelianna set oil and snare traps in and around the glaringly narrow route and positioned the knights and half of his party, mainly himself, Gwyneth and Morrigan at the windmill. The rest would remain within the courtyard walls of the Chantry and protect the building from any surprise attacks.
August finished his briefing with the Knights before walking up the hill towards where Morrigan and Gwyneth were waiting. "Alright, same idea as Lothering only with a smaller target. When the enemy swarms down that path pour as much fire and lightning into it as you can. The traps will ignite and anything around them will go up in flames. We'll deal with anything that makes it through. Any questions?"
Morrigan smirked and opened her mouth to speak. He headed her off.
"Besides speaking the obvious about how this is none of our business and we shouldn't be fighting every battle that comes our way, thanks Morigan but the last few times were enough." August said, gruffly and with a dismissive wave of his hand.
The witch opened and closed her mouth, huffed and turned her back on him, suddenly very interested in the windmill. August couldn't help but smirk at how countermanding the woman brought him no small amount of joy. He turned to Gwyneth and his features softened. "Do you get it?"
She nodded, "Just like Lothering."
"That's my girl."
Morrigan scoffed, but said little else, still annoyed by his rebuke.
The sun dipped over the horizon, night fell, and the battle began. The undead men and women, their bodies showing bones and rotting flesh, descended down the path from the castle like they usually did and ran right into the traps Lelianna and Varis had set earlier in the day. The corpses slid on the oil immediately, and when they started to pile up both Morrigan and Gwyneth sent fireballs from their staffs right into the narrow cavern.
The pathway lit up in an explosion of flame and burning flesh. The undead mob roared and cried unnaturally, seemingly unable to feel pain as they crawled and hunkered through the burning chasm. Many didn't make it that far, several more fell as smouldering charred corpses and what few remained were brought low by the swords of the Redcliffe Knights and August's own blade. They didn't stop chopping and slicing until they were the only ones moving.
The battle on their end was barely over a few minutes before a man rushed up the hill to them, waving frantically. "The corpses are rising from the lake! They're attacking the Chantry!"
August scowled before turning the makeshift group of Knights and Mages. "Looks like the fight isn't over yet. Back to the village! Protect the Chantry!"
They did so, and arrived just in the nick of time. Their swords and staffs just managed to turn the tide of the battle, which would have been lost unless six Knights, two Mages and a Grey Warden had joined the defenders. By sunrise they had lost five men but the Chantry remained standing and unbroken. They had defended the village.
August sat on the steps of the church, watching as the dipped over the horizon. His party had gathered around him, tired and dirty but alive and intact. "We're going to need to get into that castle."
"Tis an interesting proposition." Morrigan allowed as she sat on the Chantry steps and sighed. "Shall we go up to the gates and knock?"
He glared half-heartedly at her. "Yes thank you Morrigan, very drool. My point is that Castles as old as Redcliffe usually have secret passages of some sort, to allow the lord and his family to escape in the face of a siege. The only problem is finding it."
"This is a waste of time. Our mission should be fighting the Darkspawn, not dealing with foolish ventures like this." Sten grumbled, arms folded across his chest and gaze hard.
August's eyes narrowed into a glare. "And what would you have me do? Allow one of the most strategically important settlements around Lake Calenhad fall to an army of undead!? Cut off another potential supply route for the army!? What a wonderful idea Sten. Thank you for your brilliant input."
"You mock me." He said simply.
"Glad you noticed." August replied with a shrug, too tired to be politically correct. "You're simply thinking of how many Darkspawn you could kill with a swing if your greatsword. There is a whole army of them out there Sten, lead by the greatest terror this world has known for hundreds of years. In order to defeat them we need to think of this as not a hunt, like you do, but a war. We need to assemble allies, gather armies, secure supply routes, fortify strongholds which is what I am trying to do!"
"August," Alistair muttered, hand gripping onto his shoulder and a worried frown in place. "Calm down."
August levelled a glare at his fellow Warden, then closed his eyes and took a few deep breathes. He nodded his thanks to Alistair before turning back to his companions. "My apologies, I think we are all a little overtired."
"Fighting all night will do that, I think." Lelianna supplied with a grim smile.
Sten growled low in his throat, but said nothing more.
"Ask the Knights, see if anyone knows anything about any entrances into the castle that's not the front gate." August said, massaging his temple, and the party dispersed. Within a few moments it was only him and Alistair, who seemed to be trying to find out which would be better to look at, him or the rough stone steps.
"August," he said after a moment, looking up at the clear sky.
"Yeah." He replied.
"There's something I need to tell you, I've been wrestling with it since we ran into the Redcliffe column." the older Warden began, then audibly gulped. There was a long pause as he waited, but his fellow Grey Warden seemed less likely to fill in the silence with words.
"Spit it out, Alistair." August grumbled, impatient. "I think I already know what you're about to say."
"I am a bastard who was brought up in Redcliffe Castle," he supplied, easy as you please. August stopped massaging his temple and turned to look at him with dark eyes. "Arl Eamon raised me until I was ten years old."
"And you're the bastard child of King Maric, right?"
"Yes, that's right - wait, how do you know that!?"
"Lucky guess." August allowed, stunned. "It helps that you're the spitting image of the late King - well, later King. "
It really was a lucky guess on his part. All the evidence, and he used evidence very loosely, he had since running into the column was that he was a bastard born in Redcliffe and raised by a member of its nobility, potentially Arl Eamon himself. Nobles didn't really care about peasant or freeholder bastards so that meant he was probably the illegitimate child of a noble, and Eamon wouldn't stick his neck out for just any noble so that meant someone who was at least an Arl. Alistair looked nothing like any of the current Arl's or Teyrn's within the Kingdom, but he had a striking similarity to the late King Maric.
That was it, all he had.
"By Andraste's perfectly shaped backside," August muttered. He liked Alistair, he really did, but the man shied away from decision making like it was touched by the taint itself. He learned that after knowing him for roughly a fortnight. Every single serious decision was always piled on him, even though Alistair was the senior Warden of the two. "If we let you take the throne the country is doomed."
Alistair blinked, and then smirked. "Thank you for the vote of confidence. It's really important to me you know. By the way how do you know Andraste's backside was perfect?"
August shrugged, shock and bone tiredness getting the better of him. "She had to gain the attention of the Maker somehow. It was either perfect tits, legs or ass. Maybe a combination of all three."
"She could have had a charming personality," Alistair allowed, trying not to laugh despite how serious the situation was. "Or maybe a good head on her shoulders."
"That too," August allowed. "Why not a combination of everything? Blonde hair, blue eyes, long legs, just right sized breasts, tight ass, could talk a King out of his throne and beat an enemy when outnumbered ten to one. Sounds like the perfect prophetess to me."
"Don't let the Chantry hear you say that," Alistair smirked. "Or anyone even remotely associated with them. Keep it away from Lelianna, especially Lelianna."
"Yes, that is a good point." Cousland allowed as he rose to his feet and absently dusted himself off.
"So you don't care that I'm King Maric's bastard?"
"To tell the truth I was always suspicious that he only fathered one legitimate child." August explained with a shrug. "So no, I don't mind that you're the bastard of the late King. It's a little late anyway considering your already a Grey Warden."
It was well known amongst the higher Nobility that King Maric was a notorious womaniser, had been ever since Queen Rowan had died young. The Arl's and his own father, but not Loghain, would trade stories about how he would charm young women on his visits to their manors and castles, from Bann's daughters to serving girls, from humans to elves in equal measure. There had been a wager going about how many illegitimate children he had sired.
Alistair seemed relieved, "You're right. Now that I'm a Grey Warden I cannot hold titles. I'm kind of relieved to tell the truth."
"Glad to see your relieved," August smiled tightly. Before he could say anymore Gwyneth came running towards them, stopping a few feet away to gain her breath "Gwyneth, what's the matter? You look like you ran a mile."
"I think I did," she replied between gasps of air. "I was looking for Ser Perth, found him up by the windmill and then Arlessa Isolde appeared and asked to speak to the man in charge!"
"Wait, as in Arl Eamon's wife Isolde!" Alistair asked, blinking.
She frowned, "That is how she introduced herself."
"Describe her to me." August said. He remembered the Arlessa as tall, pretty, blonde, well endowed, undeniably Orlesian, had a pole stuck so far up her ass that if it were real it would come out of her mouth.
"Umm, tall, pretty, blonde hair, dark eyes, nice figure - speaks like Lelianna does but without any of the charm or courtesy. She looked at me like I was a bug to be squashed when I tried to question her." Gwyneth explained, making a habit of counting off what she remembered with her fingers as she spoke.
"That's her alright." August nodded.
"Yep," Alistair agreed. "Sounds like she hasn't changed a bit."
"Do you remember what I said about Andraste having blonde hair." August asked as he started walking, Alistair and Gwyneth following him.
"Yeah," Alistair hesitantly supplied.
"I've changed my mind," August continued with a very evident scowl.
As it turned out there was a secret passage into the castle, located under some floorboards in the basement of the windmill. August wasted no time in opening the passage and following the darkened underground path. If what the Arlessa told them was true they would find themselves in the dungeons of the castle, right under whatever malevolent forces had taken over the Guerrin fortress.
The Arlessa had been near hysterical when August had met with her. She had dark circles under her eyes, which were bloodshot from lack of sleep. Terror and fear seemed to role from her haggard form in waves. She had explained several things under the direct and rather blunt questioning of the Grey Wardens and the more they found out the more complicated this crisis seemed to be.
The heir to the Guerrin family, Connor, had been recently found to be a Mage and in a desperate attempt to keep her sons magical talents secret the Arlessa had hidden him away in the castle, away from the eyes of the Chantry and even hired an Apostate to tutor him. Everything seemed to be going fine. Then the Arl had fallen ill, and it soon became apparent that it was worse than original thought. He was dying and in an act of desperation Connor had made a deal with a demon to keep his father alive.
He had ignored Alistair's exclamation of outrage and disbelief. Ignored Sten's rumble of disapproval and asked Isolde to carry on.
The deal had saved his father, but Connor in turn had been possessed by the creature. It went on a rampage, summoning lesser demons into the castle, murdering the servants and guardsmen and turning their bodies into the undead horde which had savaged Redcliffe Village every night since. The Arlessa had managed to convince the creature to allow her to leave so that she could find some new playthings for him. So here she was, before them, begging for help.
August remembered Connor, an altogether friendly and excitable young boy. He had never even suspected him of being a Mage. To his knowledge the Guerrin family had no magical blood flowing through them, which meant it may be in Isolde's side of the family or it could have been a random occurrence, which was not unheard off. He did not want to see Connor remain in the clutches of such a fiend nor did he wish any more harm to befall upon the people of Redcliffe.
The leader of the Knights, Ser Perth, had volunteered to go with the Arlessa and act as a decoy. They would keep the demon busy while August and his group would use a secret passage to get into the castle through the dungeons.
So here they were, following a narrow and winding underground path which looked rarely used. By the light of Morigan and Gwyneth's magic he saw the walls and superstructure covered with layers of spider webs and dust. August doubted this hidden passage had been used since the rebellion against Orlais decades earlier.
He would not take anything to chance, bringing his entire party with him to face off against this threat. August had never faced a Demon before, Darkspawn and other men yes, but never had he ever seen a demon let alone fought one. Gwyneth had seen one, fought one even, but it had been in the Fade when she took her Harrowing and she wasn't sure how different her experience would be compared to the real world.
Morrigan, on the other hand, had experience in facing demons both in the Fade and reality. Her advice hadn't left him with much hope. "If the child has been possessed by a demon it may be too late to save him."
"How so?" He asked, dreading the answer.
"When a demon get's its clutches on a living vessel it seldom let's go." She explained, smirking. "The more powerful the demon the greater it's hold, and some will not let go until death severs the link. Even if you can save the child he will be vulnerable to demonic possession from the Fade. A torch in the dark if you will."
August frowned, thoughtful. "But there is a way?"
She opened her mouth to speak, closed it and frowned in return. "Yes, there is a way."
She said nothing more, and he didn't push.
They exited the secret passage into the lowest level of the castles dungeon and right into a crowd of living corpses, either wandering aimlessly or clustered around a cell hammering on the iron bars. August and his companions drew weapons and went right into them, hacking and slashing with swords, battering with shields while Lelianna, Gwyneth and Morrigan hit them with magic and arrows. The dead put up a fight, but it was all fuelled by instinct and impulse and not with the years of experience and adaptability of the living.
By the battles end they all stood in a rough circle, the corpses of the dead at their feet and finally put to a more permanent rest. August was panting, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow as he sheathed his sword and picked his way through the body covered prison. A number of animated dead remained around the one cell, battering at the bars with old and chipped weapons. They put them down quickly and efficiently.
The only injury was Sten who took a glazing blow from an axe, but otherwise no one else was physically harmed. Gwyneth mended the wound quickly with a few healing spells. August checked a few of the bodies to make sure they were permanently dead before looking into the cell. Inside it was a man, dressed in robes, lanky and meek in appearance with dark hair, dark eyes and a few days old stubble. He practically screamed Mage, confirmed when Gwyneth looked into the cell and her eyes widened in recognition.
"Jowan," she gasped, looking at him.
He looked up from his huddled position in the corner, his own eyes widening in recognition when he saw her white hair. "Gwyneth, your alive?"
"Yes, I'm alive. What are you doing here!?"
"Do you know him?" August asked.
She nodded, "His name is Jowan. He's an apprentice at the Circle of Magi."
"Ex-apprentice I'm afraid." the imprisoned man replied, smiling in obvious relief. "It's good to see you Gwyn."
A small smile threatened to tug Gwyneth's mouth. "What are you doing here Jowan? I thought you were still at the Circle."
"I escaped from the Circle," he was morose as he spoke, a grimace which did little to hide a horrible memory. "A lot of things happened."
"I'm sure," August cut in, seeing that she was about to press him to continue. They just didn't have the time for a heartfelt reunion. "But Gwyneth's main question still stands. What are you doing in here?"
"The Arlessa threw me in here. She thought the madness happening was my doing, that it was me who taught Connor how to summon a demon." Jowan looked away. "I guess she forgot about me when things got too much out of hand."
"So you're the Apostate Isolde hired to tutor her son?" August asked.
"Yes."
"What did you teach him?" he asked, frowning.
"I didn't teach him to summon a demon or anything like that. I was only in the middle of teaching him the basics, just like we were taught at the circle." Jowan seemed reasonably cowed by his glare, looking to Gwyneth pleadingly. "Come on Gwyn. You know me!"
One look at her told anyone that she was flagging, her suspicion of his presence fighting against years of trust. They had been friends in the Circle at the very least. "Lelianna, take Gwyneth and Sten, scout the rest of the floor. Don't go up to the main floors on your own."
Gwyneth was broken from her inner turmoil, throwing August a wide eyed look. She seemed about to argue, but snapped her mouth shut and looked down, brow scrunching together. Lelianna had to place an arm on her shoulder, offering the other girl a soft smile as she led her through the heavy wooden double doors to the corridors beyond. Sten turned and walked after the two women without comment. August waited until they were out of sight, then another few moments just to be safe before settling Jowan with a scathing glare. One which made the Mage cower.
"Now, we're going to have a little chat, and no lies." August's voice was low and calm, but there was a threat behind it. A threat which brought a freezing cold chill crawling up Jowan's back. "Do you understand?"
The Mage gulped and nodded. "Y-yes, I understand."
It was a question which had been stewing in the back of his mind the moment he saw this man sitting in his cell. "The Arl was recently taken ill by a sudden sickness. I don't suppose you'd know anything about that, would you?"
Yes, it had been a question stewing in his mind, coming to the fore right here, right now. The Arl's sudden illness had been a surprise to anyone who knew him. Arl Eamon was in the latter stages of his life, true, but he always seemed to be as healthy as a man half his age. To suddenly be taken ill had surprised August, and he guessed it had surprised many others. Then he came to Redcliffe, found the village under siege by the undead, of a son who was a Mage, an Apostate tutoring him and a demon to top it off. It was a series of events which seemed too neat and tidy.
This Mage was the centre of it, he was certain.
It was an interesting ability, telling when a person was lying. He said ability but really it was observation, speaking with a person and noticing some revealing tells, no different than a high stakes game of cards. It wasn't an exact science. Some people were harder to read than others, but this Mage was like an open book, like Gwyneth when he had first sat down and talked to her.
The Mages eyes widened, then he broke eye contact and looked away. "No, off course not!"
"You are a very poor liar." August stated dryly, folding his arms across his chest. "A very interesting set of coincidences, you escaping the Circle and finding yourself in the court of one of the most powerful families in the realm."
"I suppose." Jowan allowed, suppressing the need to gulp.
"I do not believe in such coincidences."
He sighed, a broken laugh escaping him. "You don't look like a man easily manipulated. Alright."
"Alright?" August repeated, frowning. "You're just going to cave in just like that?"
Jowan shrugged, "I'm dead whether you kill the demon or not, why lie now?"
Still suspicious but more than a little curious he nodded for the man to continue. The look in his eyes reminded August of a man at the gallows, panic slowly being replaced with a weary and bone tired acceptance of his fate.
"Arl Eamon's illness isn't natural," the Mage began, hesitating again for a moment before pressing on. "I was recruited by a powerful man to infiltrate the castle and get into the families good graces. He knew many things, including that Connor was a Mage. He wanted me to poison the Arl, to keep him out of the way."
"Who recruited you?"
"The Teyrn of Gwaren, Loghain Mac Tir."
Special thanks to Impstar, Mazanti, Leaf Ranger and RIF for the reviews.
I'm a week late and have updated with a short filler chapter, sorry about that folks. I know I'm clambering through very well worn territory here but I want to get some things out of the way so I can dive into what the victory at Ostagar changes. Loghain would still have sent Jowan to poison Eamon, I'll let you stew over the complications this will bring in future chapters.
Just to let you guys know that I may have to stop updates for a few weeks. I wrote these chapters a few weeks ahead and thought I had plenty of time to write up more. The constant weekly updates sort of caught up with me, so I'll be stopping until I get a few chapters ahead. As always leave a review if you have any questions or if you have anything you want to see.
