Chapter 10
They took their time traveling south. It was summer in Ferelden after all and the weather was near perfect. Liam's strength was returning rapidly, as was his old skill with sword and shield. They stopped early every night so that they could practice their fighting skills. The land was peaceful, aside from a few roaming bands of thieves who gave their group a wide berth. None of them wanted to wait until Orlesians were knocking at the door to see if they were ready for a fight. They didn't rush to leave in the morning either. It was as relaxed a journey as they'd ever made together. It was hard to believe it had only been a week since leaving the forest. It seemed like much longer.
Liam, riding on a large bay gelding Sebastian had purchased from a farm two days prior, gripped the pommel suddenly as the beast sidestepped something on the ground. "Hey, woah!" Laughter from the wagon behind him had him turning around. "Oh yeah, very funny your highness."
"Unless the horse rears or bucks, you're not going to fall," Sebastian chuckled.
"Actually, he's doing rather well considering it's only his second day on the animal," Fenris noted. He was riding a dapple gray mare purchased from the same farm.
"You seem to be very handy with your mount," Liam looked at the elf askance. "You said you've never ridden a horse before," he accused.
"He said he couldn't remember Hawke, big difference," Merrill spoke up. "Besides, all elves have a way with animals and are natural riders. Of course he would get the hang of it quicker."
"Of course he would," Liam mocked, glowering at the little Dalish, causing more laughter.
Fenris merely shrugged and then prodded his horse into a faster walk. This caused Liam's horse to speed up as well, eliciting more curses from the big warrior. The elf just smiled and ignored him. They continued at that pace for another hour before Liam finally called a halt.
"I can't feel my ass anymore," he said mulishly. "I'm not going any further today." He dismounted from the beast, a huge groan escaping him. Using both hands he rubbed his butt, ignoring the snickers from the others. He didn't protest when Fenris came and took the horse. He merely scowled at the elf as he began to remove the tack from the horses. The area was clear of trees and the grass was thick and springy. A near perfect site for camp. Sebastian had begun to set up a firepit. Sighing, Liam grabbed his hatchet from the wagon and set about chopping some branches for the fire.
"Now I understand your reasoning for the water barrels in the wagons," Reginald said as he unhitched the pony from the wagon so the animal could graze comfortably. "I would never have considered the problem of finding an adequate water supply."
"For all its lush foliage and abundant earth, Ferelden doesn't have a large number of lakes and rivers and such," Merrill said as she filled a pot with water from one of them. "The Dalish know that it can be days between water sources."
"But the maps I saw showed numerous streams and rivers all over the place," Sebastian protested.
"Merrill's talking about free water sources," Liam corrected him. "The Bannorn control much of the land around here and don't care for strangers poking around. The stream in the forest was the only one for a couple of days ride in any direction. Outside of it, I don't want to run the risk of annoying some peasant and getting into a fight. Hence, the barrels."
"The Dalish live off the land and thus know exactly where there is water, at least inside the forest," Merrill agreed. "We learned long ago that it was best if we avoided contact with shems. Even a lone farm is part of some bann's land. That's why we know the Brecilian Forest so well and pretty much keep to it. Shems are afraid of the place and rarely dare venture there. They certainly wouldn't dream of actually living in it."
"The Brecilian Forest belongs to the royal family, the Theirins," Liam reminded her. "I heard that since he became king, Alistair Theirin has passed laws protecting the Dalish's rights to roam them. As a reward for their assistance in fighting the Blight."
"Oh, my clan left before any of that occured," Merrill was startled. "We never heard anything about that in the Free Marches." She stared thoughtfully into the fire.
"I must admit to curiosity about the structure of the noble families of Ferelden," Fenris spoke up. "All I ever heard in Tevinter about Ferelden was that it was a barbaric land full of mud and dogs, and that the people were little better than heathens."
"Eww, nobles are about as interesting as mushrooms," Merrill wrinkled her nose, generating snickers from the rest of them. "Let's talk about anything but them."
"Do you think me a heathen?" Liam smiled at Fenris.
"No, but when we first met you didn't seem very civilized," Fenris said apologetically. When the others busted out laughing he couldn't help but join in.
"It's true, I wouldn't have known a fine wine if it sat up and bit me," Liam laughed along with them. "Yes, the rest of Thedas considers the people of Ferelden to be little better than Chasind barbarians."
"So just how is the nobility ranked here in Ferelden?" Sebastian prodded.
"Well, first you have the King and his family," Liam frowned as he tried to remember what he'd been taught as a kid. "Then below them you have the Teryns, then the Arls, then the Banns. All swear fealty to the throne, but the Teryns often command the fealty of the lesser nobles of their lands. Arls swear to Teryns, Banns swear to Arls and by extension the Teryn they serve. Some Banns bypass the Arls and swear to the Teryns directly or the throne directly."
"It sounds as complicated as the Orlesian aristocracy," Reginald said in disgust.
"Nothing is that complicated," Sebastian snorted. "They have more minor lords than Ferelden has dogs."
"Okay, take Lothering for example," Liam broke in. "It falls within the terynir of Gwaren, the holdings of the late Teryn Loghain Mac Tir. His daughter Anora, the deposed Queen of Ferelden, holds them now in fealty to the crown. Actually, from what little mother had heard, I gather she was there under house arrest, lest she harbor designs on the throne."
"It's been over ten years, surely she's no longer a threat," Fenris protested.
"Probably not, but why take a chance?" Liam shrugged. "Anyway, Lothering may fall under that terynir, but it belongs to the bannorn. If the bann changes his fealty, Lothering's changes as well, unless the mayor decides otherwise."
"So fealty is determined by the person in control of the lands, not by proximity to any other place?" Sebastian asked and saw him nod. "That leaves a lot of room for misunderstanding."
"But, it also gives leaders a way out if they find themselves under the thumb of a tyrant," Liam pointed out. "Take the Arling of Amaranthine. It once belonged to the Howe family, and from what I've heard, Rendon Howe was a nasty piece of work. He used the Blight as a means to gain power for himself. He killed the entire Cousland family and their servants, except for the eldest son. He then declared himself Teryn of Highever. He was eventually caught and killed by none other than Drevan and Alistair, for other crimes against Ferelden. Fergus Cousland had survived Ostagar and was reinstated as the Teryn of Highever. The Arling of Amaranthine was gifted to the wardens, and for the most part, the lesser nobles and peasants of the area are better off than they were. However, even if this hadn't been handled for them, they could have sworn oath directly to the throne, thus bypassing both the Arl and the Teryn of the area."
"It still seems to be a rather inefficient way to govern a land," Sebastian shook his head.
"It works for us," Liam shrugged. "It's also why breaking an oath of fealty is considered the most heinous of crimes to Fereldens. A person who murders a hundred people would not be as reviled as an oath breaker. The Howe name has been tainted by Rendon's actions and all members of that family would be black listed by the noble families for a very long time. Same with Loghain and his family. Anora, though much beloved as Queen, sheltered her father and allowed him to claim regency despite what he did at Ostagar. She was tainted by his betrayal and it cost her the throne."
"But couldn't she have married Alistair?" Reginald asked.
"From what rumors mother heard, she wanted to be queen by herself and refused to even consider Alistair as a husband before the Landsmeet," Liam shook his head.
"Stew's ready," Merrill interrupted them and began handing out the bowls.
For a while they ate in silence. Finally, Fenris spoke again. "What exactly is this Landsmeet?"
"It's what it sounds like," Liam answered. "A meeting of the lands, or the nobles to be precise. It's where matters affecting the nation of Ferelden as a whole are discussed. Opposing parties bring their arguments before all of the banns, arls, and teryns. After all arguments are made and testimony heard, the matter is put to a vote. A majority vote wins. However, the loser has the right to challenge the winner and single combat can be declared. Champions are chosen and whoever wins is declared unequivocally the winner."
"No wonder Fereldens are perceived as barbaric," Sebastian shook his head. "Why not just declare single combat to begin with?"
"Because it seldom comes down to it," Liam smiled at the prince's shock. "Landsmeets are usually only called when there is a dispute over territory or questions about the suitability of a person holding a title, things like that. It's not for settling personal disputes and such. It prevents actual war from breaking out amongst the nobles involved, and most accept the decision of their peers. The one Arl Eamon called for during the Blight was unusual in that it was needed to prevent a civil war over the throne, which couldn't be allowed at the time. Loghain was too proud to accept the decision of his peers and forced the issue."
"At the time?" Fenris picked up on that distinction. "You mean if it weren't for the Blight, Ferelden would have suffered a civil war over the throne?"
"It's happened before," Liam shrugged.
"So, how did Alistair end up becoming king then?" Reginald asked. "He was a bastard and Grey Warden, and you said Anora was loved by the people."
"I asked Drevan that same thing," Liam replied. "He told me it was because he felt that since Loghain was so quick to betray the Wardens, then Loghain's daughter might feel the same way. She never questioned what her father was doing and thus lost the trust that many had placed in her. He spoke against her staying on the throne and for Alistair to take over. Because of all he had accomplished so far, including defeating Loghain, his word carried a great deal of weight."
"So they chose Alistair over her?" Fenris asked.
"Yes, and Alistair didn't want her," Liam answered. "So, she was banished and as far as I know, she still lives in Gwaren. She has no other family and no children."
"That sounds so lonely," Merrill sighed.
"I'm surprised no on has sought to marry her," Sebastian frowned. "The lands and title could pass to the husband's family if there were no children."
"Interested in pursuing the lady, your highness?" Liam asked, a slight edge to his voice.
"No," he snorted. "If I want lands and titles, I'll go back and fight for my throne. I never liked the idea of marrying for money or power." He hid his smile as he realized the reason behind the warrior's question. Liam was jealous.
"Do you ever intend to reclaim your throne?" Fenris asked him.
"To be honest, I don't know," Sebastian sighed. "The Vael family has ruled Starkhaven for generations. Even though Goren is simple and easily manipulated, he is a Vael, albeit not in direct line. He also has a wife and two children, so there are heirs. I don't know if I would make a better ruler than him. To regain the throne would mean war, and that only hurts the people."
"If your only reason for doing it is because you are the last of the direct line of Vaels, then don't do it," Liam told him. "If you truly think that your people would be better off under your rule than your cousin's, then reclaim it. Otherwise, let it go."
"You make it sound so simple," the prince shook his head.
"It is that simple," Liam said. "War hurts everybody, and you should have a damn good reason for starting one."
Silence fell once more around the fire as everyone's thoughts turned to Orlais and the coming war. Finally, Fenris spoke up, "Time to work off what you ate Hawke." He got to his feet and picked up his sword.
"Oh, come on," Liam groaned. "My butt hurts, my back hurts, my legs hurt..."
"And sword practice will work those muscles loose and help you get to sleep later," the elf shrugged.
Liam grumbled, but went to the wagon and got his weapons. He looked at the armor and hesitated. At some point, he was going to have to get into the habit of practicing in full armor. A twinge in his lower back decided him. Fighting in armor could wait until another day.
For the next couple of hours, as the sun set on the horizon, he and Fernis sparred, egged on by the others as they watched from beside the fire. For the first time, he found himself able to stay on the offensive against the elf, pushing Fenris back on his heels more often than not. For his part, the elf realized that Hawke had improved to the point where he wouldn't be able to beat the other warrior without using his special talents. He called a halt.
"I think that you no longer need to worry about facing Orlesians in battle Hawke," he told the man, gifting him with one of his rare smiles. "I can no longer defeat you without using my lyrium enhanced abilities."
"Really?" Liam looked surprised for only a moment and then a huge grin broke out on his face. He gave a huge whoop and twirled his sword around.
"Now, we just have to get you used to wearing heavy armor again," Sebastian had come over, a smile on his own face at seeing Hawke so happy.
Liam made a face, "Spoilsport."
"Just saying it like it is Hawke," Sebastian shrugged.
"Okay, but not tonight," he winced as rubbed his lower back. He moved back to the fire and sat down with a groan. He didn't realize that Sebastian had followed him until he felt hands touch his shoulders.
Sebastian knew he was risking a lot by being so forward, but he didn't like seeing Hawke hurting, especially since he was partly responsible. He felt the man tense briefly and then relax. Having his hands on Hawke, hearing the faint moans as he massaged a particularly tough knot, was causing him no small amount of discomfort in his trousers. He had always prided himself on his control, but this was pushing him to his limits.
It had been so long since anyone had sought to comfort him, had touched him in such an imtimate manner, that Liam couldn't keep tears from forming in his eyes. It felt so good that he was starting to get hard. He had loved Anders, really he had. But, the last two years it seemed all he'd done was give and give and give and got very little in return. Now, here was the man who'd sworn to kill Anders and drove him to desperate measure, giving him a massage. Of his own free will, without being asked. His thoughts were making him uncomfortable and so he stood up.
"I think we should turn in," he looked back at Sebastian. Seeing a brief look of disappointment cross the man's face he smiled. "Thank you." He lowered his voice and looked at the ground. "It meant a lot."
"You're welcome Hawke," the prince smiled back.
They banked the fire and lay down on their bedrolls. Sebastian lay on his side watching Hawke for a long time, thinking about the feel of the man's muscles under his hands. He finally fell asleep, but it seemed that he'd hardly done so before he was being woken up again. Opening his eyes, he blinked against the glare of the morning sun to see Hawke kneeling next to him. "What?" he growled.
"Well, look who's the grouchy one," Liam chuckled. "Breakfast is ready and I want to get moving as soon as possible."
Sebastian stood and stretched, "What's the big hurry?"
"We're getting close to Lothering," Liam answered. "I was up on that slight hill," he pointed to the right, "and realized that I recognized the land hereabouts. If we push the pace we can reach it by sunset, maybe even sooner."
"Then perhaps you and Fenris should ride in the wagon, ser," Reginald pointed out. "My lord and I are expert riders and can take the horses."
Liam looked like he was about to protest when Fenris spoke up, "That's a good idea. I'm still a little sore from yesterday. If I have to ride at a faster pace, I'll be too sore later to do much of anything."
"Okay, sure," Liam agreed.
They finished breakfast and cleaned up the camp site quickly. An hour later they were on their way. About midday the land started to look a little less green. There were many dead trees lying on the ground, and there were numerous black rocks scattered about. "Even after more than ten years, you can still see signs of the Blight," Fenris shook his head.
Liam said nothing but brought the wagon to a halt. He sat peering off to the right of the road. He could just make out the winding path that led out of Lothering and down into Gwaren. Seeing the evidence of the Blight brought the memories of the day they fled back to the surface. The smell of burning wood and flesh, the screams of those not fast enough to get away. He remembered it clearly. Then came the images of his mother and sister, both running fast, both terrified of not getting away.
"Are you alright Hawke?" Merrill asked softly.
Liam jerked himself back to the present, "Yeah, just thinking." He sat there looking down the last slope at the buildings in the distance. They were probably a couple hours out from the place. It seemed the report that Lothering had been rebuilt was a bit of an exaggeration. From what he could see, there were only a half dozen buildings.
"Looks rather small," Reginald said doubtfully.
"The land is still poisoned here," Liam told them. "Lothering was a crossroad town that catered to travelers along the Imperial Highway. However, the majority of the people living here were farmers."
"And if the land is still poisoned, then it can't be farmed," Sebastian finished.
"Yes," Liam nodded. "I imagine there's probably an inn, and stables, maybe a small market, but not much more. Our farm was located about a mile to the west of the main road, just outside the tree line."
"Let's head there first then," Sebastian suggested. "That's really what you came here to see, right?"
Liam nodded, "Yeah. Maybe it wasn't totally destroyed." He snapped the reins and the wagon moved forward again. About a mile later, he took a small side road off the main road. He pictured it the way it had been in his youth. Trees lining each side of the road, lush grass and the twitter of birds. Now, it was silent and dead looking. There were precious few trees and very little grass.
They turned a corner in the road and came to a stop. They had reached the Hawke farm, but there was precious little left. The main house had burned and only a few charred pieces remained. The lean-to on the left side of the house was standing, but barely. The small fields on either side were overgrown with weeds and scraggly plants they couldn't make out. Dismounting from the wagon, Liam stood in the middle of the road looking around.
"Let's set up camp," he told them and then moved off towards the tree line. Just before it, he saw the simple piece of granite that marked his father's grave. It was undisturbed and he felt tears swell up. It seemed the darkspawn hadn't destroyed everything.
"I thought it was a common practice for Fereldens to burn their dead," Sebastian stated quietly.
"Mother was from Kirkwall and in the Free Marches you bury the dead," Liam reminded him. "Besides, I wanted to bury him. I thought-" he paused, not wanting to seem foolish.
"If his body was still here, then he wasn't really gone," the prince finished softly, placing a hand on Liam's shoulder.
"Silly huh?"
"Not at all, Hawke, not at all," he responded softly.
They stood silently by the grave for a long time. "Let's go eat," Liam finally said and turned away.