30 Solace, 9:30 Dragon
Ostagar
‹›‹O›‹›
The sun was blessedly warm overhead, soothing away the bite of the cold wind that blew down from the Hinterlands. Duncan had said they should expect to reach Ostagar sometime after noon, and sure enough, it loomed ahead in the distance now. Duncan and Solona walked ahead and talked amiably, while Rhianna hung back. For some reason, their pleasant banter was grating on her nerves today, but she didn't want to let them know that. It wasn't anything they were doing wrong; just her own foul mood.
The closer they got to Ostagar, the more anxious she felt.
She ought to be relieved that this long journey was nearly at an end. Never could she have imagined walking from one end of Ferelden to the other, but that's exactly what the three of them had done. Walking was tedious, especially for weeks on end, and she missed Faolan not just for his cheerful presence, but for the extra speed he would have given her. So, the fact that tonight she would sleep in camp, in an actual tent, and would not be required to walk for ten hours the following day, should have made her happy.
It didn't, though. Instead, she found herself on edge.
At least the reason why wasn't a mystery. She knew perfect well why she felt this way.
Loghain was here. Every step that brought her closer to him - closer to the time when she would speak with him, would look into his face, would hear the beloved timbre of his voice - the more anxiety bloomed in her chest.
What would he say to her? Would he smile? Would he touch her, and pull her into an embrace? Or would he stand stiff and awkward, and make it clear he wanted no physical contact? What if he refused to speak with her? Wanted nothing to do with her, period? He had broken off contact with her completely, after all.
She still didn't understand what she had done to drive him away. He'd cared for her once, she felt certain of it. Then, for some reason, he'd stopped caring. And that thought caused an ache in her chest.
Regardless of his reasons, it would be smarter just to stay away.
Except she couldn't stay away. She couldn't. She knew in her heart she would seek him out, even knowing he might reject her, and knowing how much that would hurt.
Because what if he hadn't stopped? What if there was some other reason for his silence? Something he hadn't intended, and couldn't control? Something that had kept him from writing, or from coming for her.
Perhaps he hadn't truly meant what he'd written in that last letter: "I have to let you go, so you will be free to find a life that can make you truly happy." Or perhaps by now he realized he'd made a mistake. And when he saw her face, he would admit it. He would admit that he did still love her.
That was why she would seek him out. If there was even the smallest chance that he would tell her he loved her, she needed to hear it.
Even if that chance was very small, indeed.
She tried to think of other things, but every time she let her mind wander freely, it found its way back to Highever, and there was no happiness for her there. So, tired of the thoughts bombarding her mind, she sped up to walk beside Duncan and Solona.
"Do you think Wardens will come from other places," Solona was asking, "or just from Orlais?"
"I've written to the Warden Commanders in Kirkwall, Starkhaven, Nevarra and Antiva. And, of course, to the First Warden in Weisshaupt. So, yes, with any luck, we'll have more Wardens here soon. My understanding is that the Orlesian Wardens will be here within the month. Yes. They'll enter the country through Gherlen's Pass – which, as you probably know, is not at all far from Kinloch Hold - and make their way south. Once they arrive, we'll have the best possible chance to stop the darkspawn before they can spread to the north."
"The king gave his permission for them to enter Ferelden?" Rhianna tried to keep her voice casual, but suspected that Duncan could hear the tension. After all, he was well aware of her opinion on this matter. "Even the chevaliers?"
"Yes." Duncan looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Lucky for us, Cailan does not share the prejudice held by much of Ferelden's nobility."
His tone was abrupt, as though he wished to stave off an argument, but Rhianna wasn't willing to be put off easily this time. "Can you guarantee that after the darkspawn have been beaten, the chevaliers will return to Orlais without any fuss?" Rhianna caught and held his gaze. "It wouldn't surprise me to discover that Empress Celene intends to use this as a way of gaining a foothold in Ferelden."
"I am not aware of Empress Celene having any intention of trying to reoccupy your country." As if she would admit such a thing, openly, if it were what she intended. Besides, that wasn't an answer to Rhianna's question.
"Can you guarantee that the chevaliers will leave again, peacefully, after the Blight is over?"
Duncan pursed his lips into a frown. "Politics are not my concern," he replied. "Nor are they your concern any longer."
"But-"
"I understand," he continued, "that as the daughter of a teyrn you grew up involving yourself in such things, but the Grey Wardens do not. We remain neutral, except when it comes to killing darkspawn. I suggest you remember this. Do not think to meddle in political affairs."
Maker.
Duncan intended to allow chevaliers in without any thought about whether or not they would leave again. He honestly didn't care if Celene used the Blight as an excuse to invade Ferelden.
Or what if Loghain was right, and the Grey Wardens were wrapped up with Orlais? Could Duncan be pretending not to care, while acting in accordance with Celene's wishes?
A weight settled in Rhianna's stomach at the thought.
"Perhaps the chevaliers really will just fight the darkspawn and leave again?" Solona's voice was higher pitched than usual, as though she wanted to end the discussion. Solona didn't seem to have much of an opinion about politics, but Rhianna could hardly blame her. It's not as though she had any reason to consider herself Fereldan. The Circle had been her home, and it was a thing completely apart from the rest of society.
"Perhaps," Rhianna replied, although she didn't really believe it.
They approached a crossroad, where the road through the Hinterlands from Redcliffe joined with the Imperial Highway on which they traveled. There had been almost no traffic on the road; just about anyone who lived this far south had fled weeks earlier, as the darkspawn pressed north. As the two roads met, however, a pair of travelers on foot were reaching the fork in the road at the same time as Rhianna and her companions.
Duncan raised his arm, and hailed the others in a hearty voice.
"Roland! What a stroke of luck to meet you here!"
Roland was of medium height, with tanned skin and dark hair peppered with grey. "It is indeed!"
The two men grasped forearms in greeting. "Roland," Duncan explained, "is a fellow Grey Warden, on his way back to Ostagar after visiting Redcliffe and the West Hills."
"Well met." Roland gestured to the man at his side. "And this is Arcill. He'll be joining the Wardens once we arrive in the city."
Arcill was a huge man - tall and broad chested, with long blonde hair that hung loose past his shoulders. His bare, muscular arms were as big around as Rhianna's thighs, and were crisscrossed with burn scars that suggested blacksmithing was his trade. He gave Rhianna a friendly smile when their eyes met, but his skin looked unhealthy – it was an unnatural grey sort of color - and his shoulders drooped as though he were exhausted.
"Arcill is from Falconhold," Roland continued. "I met up with him while traveling. He and some members of his clan had an encounter with darkspawn down near Sothmere."
"Welcome, Arcill." Duncan's tone was subdued, as though he weren't particularly happy to meet this man. But why? Arcill looked like a promising recruit.
The two parties joined together, and as they continued toward Ostagar, Roland fell into step with Duncan and Solona, while Rhianna, Arcill and Dane brought up the rear.
Falconhold, if she remembered correctly, was an Avvarian settlement. Arcill certainly looked the part, with a great axe strapped to his back, and his metal armor trimmed with leather and fur.
"Where is Falconhold located?" Rhianna asked. "Is it in the Hinterlands?"
"No. It's in far south of the Frostbacks. It is not a large hold, but we have everything we need." Rhianna remembered stories of Avvarian raiders, coming down from the mountains to steal horses and, occasionally, brides. Probably best not to mention that, though. "And where are you from, my lady?"
"I'm from Highever. In the north, on the Waking Sea."
"And you've come all this way to join the Grey Wardens?"
"Yes." That wasn't much of an answer, when surely he wondered how she had come to this point in her life, but at the moment, she didn't have the energy to explain. "So," she began, "why did you decide to join?" Assuming he had decided, and not been conscripted.
"We - me and three others from my clan - were hunting elk in the lowlands when we were attacked by darkspawn. I'm the only one who survived, except, apparently I got too close to the creatures, and fell sick. Roland tells me the Grey Wardens have a cure. So here I am."
Oh. That explained the color of his skin. He had blight sickness. Perhaps that also explained Duncan's subdued tone. Almost certainly, the joining ritual was the "cure" the Wardens had to offer, but that was hardly a guarantee, considering the ritual itself might well kill him.
"I'm sorry about your friends. We'll be at Ostagar soon, though."
"Yes, I'll welcome a chance to stop traveling. We've been on the road for more than a week."
"So have we. We've made stops along the way, but I could never have imagined what a long walk it is all the way across Ferelden. But tonight, we'll have cots to sleep on, in proper tents. Or so I've been told."
He chuckled, weakly. "That's something to look forward to, indeed."
‹›‹O›‹›
It was said that Ostagar had once been a place of magical experimentation, built by the Tevinter Imperium to mark the very southern reach of their empire. Certainly, Rhianna had seen other things built by the Tevinters - Fort Drakon, and the Imperial Highway itself - but even so, she was not prepared for Ostagar.
Far from the modest collection of collapsed walls and derelict buildings Rhianna had expected, Ostagar was a sprawling, multi-storied hulk, its archways and round courtyards connected by wide paved roads and bridges. The city was enormous, and even in ruins it was magnificent, with domed buildings, and a huge tower that loomed overhead.
As they approached, Rhianna could see the tents where bulk of the king's army had spilled out onto the gently rolling hills that surrounded the ancient city. It was an odd juxtaposition: the ancient ruin brought to life by thousands of soldiers and the community they brought along with them.
As the two Wardens and their recruits approached the final bridge that would take them into the oldest part of the city, they came upon a small group of well-armed men. Amazingly, one of them was Cailan.
"Ho there, Duncan!" The king's voice was cheerful, and he smiled broadly, as though he'd been anticipating this event.
Duncan strode forward to greet the king. "King Cailan! I didn't expect-"
"A royal welcome?" Cailan laughed, and reached out to grasp Duncan's arm in a firm handshake. "I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun!"
"Not if I could help it, your Majesty." Duncan lifted a brow, but the king didn't seem to notice.
"You've got excellent timing, as I intend for us to throw everything we've got at the darkspawn, and end this once and for all in just a few days' time. And now, I'll have the mighty Duncan, and his Grey Wardens, at my side in battle. Glorious! And I see you've brought companions. Warden recruit-" His eyes fell on Rhianna, and he stopped speaking mid-sentence.
"Rhianna?" His brow creased. "Is it really you?"
"Hello, Cailan."
"Maker's breath!" He stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around her. She hesitated only a moment before returning the embrace and relaxing into his warmth. It felt good to be close to another person, even if it was someone she barely liked.
When Cailan pulled away, he grasped her shoulders.
"It's wonderful to see you, Rhianna." He reached up, and rubbed a strand of her hair between his fingers. "I didn't recognize you at first; you've cut your hair."
"It's good to see you, too," she replied. "And yes, I cut it a few weeks ago. It was too much trouble to try and take care of it while traveling."
His brow creased. "But, I thought you were staying behind in Highever? That's what your brother told me when he arrived a few days ago, with the Highever men. He said your father would be coming, while you stayed behind to manage the teyrnir."
"That was the original plan, yes. But . . . my father won't be coming after all."
"What?" Cailan frowned. "Why not? I hope he hasn't fallen ill."
"He's not ill. My father . . . my father is dead."
"Dead?" Cailan's jaw went slack. "What are you talking about? How is that possible? I just spoke with Fergus two days ago. What in the world happened?"
"Rendon Howe ordered his men to attack the castle in the middle of the night, after Fergus and the army marched south. Father was killed, and Mother, and Fergus' wife and son, along with a lot of other people."
Cailan grasped Rhianna's shoulders more firmly. "Maker. I am so very sorry, Rhianna. I . . . I can scarcely believe it. Rendon Howe? But he and your father have been friends for years. I don't understand why in the world he would do such a thing."
"I don't understand it either."
"Well, he won't get away with such treachery." Cailan stared into Rhianna's eyes. "As soon as the darkspawn have been defeated, I'll turn my army north and bring Howe to justice. You have my word. Rendon Howe will hang. I know that won't bring your family back, but I swear to you, Howe will not profit from this. Your lands will be restored to you and your brother."
"Thank you." She managed a weak smile. "You spoke with Fergus two days ago?"
"Yes, right after he arrived."
"Good. I was worried that . . . well, it doesn't matter now. All that matters is that he's safe. And that I can talk to him, tell him what happened."
Cailan frowned. "I've no doubt you'll want to see him as soon as possible, but I'm afraid that's not going to be easy."
"What? Why not?"
"Fergus and his men left camp yesterday, to scout in the Wilds. They're not expected back for the better part of a week."
"He's in the Wilds?" Yes, that sounded like something Fergus would offer to do - he was an outdoorsman, after all, in a way few Fereldan nobles were. "But I need to talk to him. He may still be in danger from Rendon Howe's assassins."
"I understand." Cailan looked regretful. "But there's nothing to be done until he returns from the scouting mission. Until then we cannot even send word."
"That's . . . disappointing," she said, although to be honest, the disappointment was tempered with relief. As much as she yearned to see her brother, she also dreaded having to tell him what had happened: that his wife and son were dead.
"Oh, Rhianna." Cailan shook his head and let out a ragged breath. "I can only imagine what this must be like." He reached up and ran his thumb along the edge of her cheek. "He'll be back in just a few days, though. And in the meantime, you can vent your grief against the darkspawn." He pulled her into his arms again, and murmured into her ear. "Howe will pay for this, I promise."
When he pulled away, she gave him the warmest smile she could muster. Talking about her family had drained her of all good feelings, but she appreciated his concern. "Thank you."
He arched a brow. "Wait a minute. You're here with Duncan. Does this mean . . . are you joining the Grey Wardens?"
"Yes. I am."
His nose wrinkled. "That's unexpected," he said slowly. Then, his brow lifted. "I suppose this means . . ." His voice trailed off, but she could guess what he was thinking.
Even though she found it difficult to believe Cailan still wanted to marry her, the issue had never been fully resolved. Perhaps he'd still had some hope of marrying her, if his plan to wed Celene was struck down by the Landsmeet. But for to join the Grey Wardens would surely would make that impossible, for once and for all.
"I suppose it does."
He nodded. "I understand." He gave her a warm smile. "You'll be brilliant in the Grey Wardens, Rhianna, I know it. And if this is what you want, I'm . . . happy for you."
It wasn't what she wanted, not at all, but she could hardly admit that now. So, she merely nodded, and left the smile plastered on her face.
He turned to face Solona and Arcill. "And these are the other recruits, I take it?" To Solona, "It appears that you hail from the Circle of Magi?"
"Yes, your Majesty." Solona's voice was soft, as though this made her nervous.
"This is Solona Amell," Duncan said. "Formerly of the Fereldan Circle."
"Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Ostagar," Cailan said with a sweep of his arm. "I trust you have some spells to help us in the coming battle?" He smiled, and Solona seemed to relax under the warmth of his gaze.
"I am only recently a full enchanter, your Majesty, but I promise I will do my best."
"And this is Arcill Ar Muire O Falconhold." Duncan gestured toward the Avvarian tribesman.
"Well met, ser!" Cailan crossed his arms at his chest, and bowed. "We don't see many of the Avvar here in the lowlands; I'm pleased that you will be joining us."
"Thank you." The man inclined his head, but only slightly, and did not smile. It seemed the warrior was not impressed with the Fereldan king.
Cailan seemed not to notice, as he turned to Roland. "And what of you, ser? Are you another recruit?"
"Roland is already a Grey Warden," Duncan explained. "He's just come from Redcliffe."
"Ah! Then you've spoken with Eamon?"
"I have," Roland replied. "Your uncle sends his greetings, and reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week. You have only to send the word, and he'll muster his Regulars."
"Hah!" Cailan scoffed. "Eamon just wants in on the glory! I'll write to him soon, although I don't think we need his soldiers. We've won three battles against these monsters already, and the next one will be no different. I'm not even sure this is a true blight. There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we've seen no sign of an archdemon."
Alas? Was he hoping for the archdemon, hoping this really was a blight?
Duncan frowned, and his words echoed Rhianna's thoughts. "Disappointed, your majesty?"
Cailan stared out into the distance. "I'd hoped for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god." He turned, and caught Rhianna's gaze again. "But I suppose this will have to do."
There was a catch in his voice, and he sounded like a child. A very young child. Not a king at all.
If only Maric were here. He should be the one leading this campaign, at Loghain's side. They would have worked together, as they had done during the Rebellion, with no talk of wanting an archdemon, or Orlesian chevaliers. Maric would have been sensible; Cailan seemed to care only about glory and legend and fulfilling some childish fantasy of a war that bards would sing about a hundred years from now.
"We mustn't underestimate the darkspawn," Duncan warned. "Perhaps it would be best to call the Redcliffe troops to join us. We're still waiting for the Orlesian Wardens to arrive, after all, and having the additional men Eamon would bring can only be of benefit."
"I'll think about it," Cailan said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "And now, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should return to camp. No doubt, Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with his strategies." He stepped up to Rhianna, and took both of her hands in his. "It's wonderful to have you here, Rhianna. Please, make some time to come and see me, soon. For a visit."
"I will," she promised. As he turned and walked away, with his guards close behind, a trickle of fear ran down her spine.
Loghain waits to bore me with his strategies.
Did Cailan really feel that way about Loghain's advice? Loghain Mac Tir was a great general, a legendary commander, yet Cailan was "bored" by Loghain's strategies? How in the world were they to win this war if the man who made the final decisions didn't even have the patience to listen to his most trusted general?
Rhianna kept these thoughts to herself as Duncan led the way through the ruins. After crossing a bridge that spanned a deep gorge, they emerged into what appeared to be the central part of the camp. They made their way to a huge bonfire ringed by tents. "This is my headquarters here in the city," Duncan explained, and pointed out the tents where they would be sleeping; Rhianna and Solona would share a large yellow tent just next to the green one Duncan indicated was his own.
"We have much to do to prepare for the battle, not least the Joining ritual for the three of you and the other two recruits who are already here," Duncan said. "The afternoon is too far gone, however, for us to prepare for the ritual today, so you may pass the time in whatever way you like. The only thing I ask is that you keep an eye out for one of my Wardens. His name is Alistair; he has short, reddish blonde hair and wears scale mail. If you'll just let him know that we have arrived, I would be grateful."
"So, it's all right for us to explore the camp?" Solona asked, with a hopeful smile and bright eyes.
"Of course," Duncan agreed.
Arcill opted to rest near the bonfire, so the two women and Dane wandered into the camp without him.
All around them, the camp was dotted with colorful tents, and bustled with people. A group of warriors painted designs on their mabari hounds. A Chantry sister led a group of people in prayer. Small knots of soldiers stood idly, chatting with one another about the darkspawn and the prospects for the next battle. Some voices were raised in laughter or shouts, while others conversed in hushed, subdued tones. There were messengers and nurses and blacksmiths and a quartermaster. In truth, a small city had sprung up here in this ancient Tevinter ruin.
"So tell me," Solona said, her voice somewhat breathless. "How it is that you're such good friends with the king? He seemed really happy to see you."
Oh. She didn't mind the thought of Solona knowing the truth, eventually, but she wasn't sure she felt like explaining all of it just now. "I've known Cailan since we were children."
"I liked him," Solona said. "He was very friendly. And handsome, too, don't you think?" Fortunately, before Rhianna could answer, Solona giggled excitedly. "I can hardly believe we're finally here, after so many days of travel. And all this activity! I don't think I could ever have imagined anything like this! It's . . . it's like a festival, almost."
"I suppose it is, in a way," Rhianna agreed, but then she stopped walking.
Festival . . .
"Today is the last day of Solace, isn't it?" Rhianna asked. "Which means tomorrow is a festival. It's Funalis."
"Oh! You're right! I'd completely lost track of the date. I wonder if there will be any sort of celebration? We celebrated holidays at the Circle, but I expect it will be a lot more fun to celebrate here in the camp!"
Not wanting to damper her friend's excitement, Rhianna smiled to hide the unpleasant weight that had settled into her stomach at the thought.
Funalis.
If tomorrow was Funalis, then exactly one year ago today she and Loghain had shared their first real kiss, at the top of Dragon's Peak. That moment was still so clear in her mind, as if it had happened yesterday. The taste of his mouth, the warmth of his arms in the chill air. The feel of his hands as they moved across her body.
And then, on Funalis itself, Thomas Howe had murdered that poor vixen in the palace garden, and Rhianna spent the day with Loghain. She'd offered herself to him that day, in the library of the Highever estate, but he'd said no. Said they should wait until she wanted it as much as he did. If she had it to do again, knowing what she knew now, she'd have begged him. Begged him to make love to her, in spite of her fears.
Would that have made any difference, though? Perhaps he would have ended things with her that much sooner. Had he ever really wanted her in the first place, or had he just pretended all along, forced himself to act as though he found her attractive? If he'd decided he needed a new wife, she would have been the best choice in Ferelden, so maybe it was all an act.
No. No, that was stupid. He couldn't have been pretending. Not the whole time. He'd cared for her. Surely, he had.
Except now a whole year had passed since they had seen one another, and Maker knows she'd been wrong about things before. Wrong about so many things. Maybe she'd only imagined that she and Loghain had some sort of . . . bond. Really, why would a man like him have had any interest in her to begin with? She was so . . . naive, so simple, and certainly no great beauty. Quite boring, probably, to someone like the Teyrn of Gwaren. She'd thought they had a lot in common, shared interests, but that was probably just her imagination as well.
Her vision grew blurry, through tears she refused to shed.
Fortunately, Solona was so taken by everything happening around them that she seemed not to notice. "Look!" She grabbed Rhianna's hand and pulled her toward a cluster of tents. "I think I've found the Circle mages. Let's go say hello!"
As they approached the tents, guarded by solemn-faced templars, Solona led Rhianna toward an older woman dressed in mage's robes. Her white hair was pulled back into a short queue, and she smiled widely at their approach.
"Hello, Wynne!" Solona said.
"Solona!" She caught the girl in an embrace. "This is a surprise!" She stepped back and looked the girl up and down. "You're wearing enchanter's robes. Congratulations on your Harrowing! But I don't understand. What are you doing here?"
"It's a long story," Solona breathed, "and I will tell you all of it, but first, I want you to meet my friend. This is Rhianna. Rhianna, this is Wynne, one of the senior enchanters from the Ferelden Circle."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear," the woman said with a warm smile.
"Likewise," Rhianna replied.
"Does this mean Irving allowed more mages to leave the Circle?"
"Not . . . exactly," Solona replied. "Do you know Duncan? The Commander of the Grey Wardens?"
"Not personally, but I know of him."
"He came to Kinloch Hold a few weeks ago, asking for more mages. But the Knight-Commander didn't want to send any. Then . . . well," Solona wrinkled her nose, "there was a bit of unpleasantness. With Jowan. Do you remember Jowan?"
"Of course." She frowned. "Did he get himself into trouble? Did they let him attempt his Harrowing?"
"No, they didn't let him attempt his Harrowing. And he did get into trouble. It turns out that he is . . . well, a blood mage."
"What? Jowan? I find that very difficult to believe. He always seemed so . . . mild mannered."
"Yes, I thought so, too. But it's true. I saw him cast a spell that knocked four grown men onto their backs."
"Blessed Andraste!" Wynne's eyes grew wide. "I expect he was put to death for that."
"No. He managed to escape. After destroying his phylactery."
"He didn't!"
"He did!" Solona chuckled. "It was all such a big mess. Anyway, I sort of got mixed up in all of it, and the Knight-Commander was very angry. Fortunately Duncan was there, and offered me a place with the Grey Wardens. So that's why I'm here. I'm going to join the Grey Wardens."
"I see." Wynne's brow furrowed, and she took a breath as though she intended to speak. Then she glanced at Rhianna, and released the breath. "We'll talk more about this later, shall we? For now, I'm certain Duncan has better things for the two of you to do than speak with an old woman. You'd best be on your way. But do come and speak with me later, Solona. I'd like to hear all the news I've missed since leaving the Circle."
When they left the mages' area, the two women found themselves in front of a tent that flew the Mabari Rampant of Ferelden: the king's own quarters. Before Rhianna could stop him, before she even realized what he was doing, Dane trotted around to the back of the tent, lifted his leg, and sent a stream of urine onto the canvas.
"Dane!" She called to him quietly, so as not to draw attention, but already the guard had noticed and was shooing the hound away with wild gestures of his hands.
"Maker's breath!" Solona giggled. "What in the world got in to him?"
"I don't know," Rhianna replied. Dane took up his place at her side, looking quite satisfied with himself. "Apparently, he's not fond of the King."
She had to stop herself from bursting into laughter. It wasn't funny, really it wasn't. Except that she could hardly blame her dog for disliking the man. Maker knows, Rhianna had reason enough to dislike him. But still. Doing that, on his tent?
As they turned away, just across a short pathway, Rhianna spied another tent. This one sported a banner with a wyvern upon it: the symbol of Gwaren.
Maker's breath.
Loghain's tent.
Maker's breath. He might be inside, right now. Just a few feet away from where she stood.
"Rhianna?" Solona put a gentle hand on Rhianna's arm. "Is everything all right?"
Rhianna turned to face her friend, struggling just a bit to catch her breath. "I'm fine," she insisted. She took Solona's hand, and pulled her in the opposite direction. She wasn't ready to face Loghain. Not just yet. Maybe not ever. "Let's go see what the Quartermaster has for sale."
The Quartermaster had a surprisingly good stock of weapons and armor and various other things: poultices and apparatus for constructing traps, herbs, weapon runes. Rhianna used a few of the gems she'd taken from Highever to purchase a set of leathers that were in better shape than the ones she'd worn since Highever. Solona bought a few things as well, including a bottle of dye to change the color of her robes.
"Now that I'm not in the Circle anymore, I don't think I have to follow their rules about what sort of robes we're allowed to wear," she explained.
After finishing up their business, Rhianna and Solona made their way up a ramp and found themselves in a new part of the camp. To the left was a large open area with a table set up at the far end. To the right, a set of stairs led up into something that seemed like it had once been a temple, built to worship the old Tevinter gods. As they reached the top of the stairs, they found a man in scale mail in a rather heated discussion with a man in robes.
"Your glibness does you no credit," the mage snarled.
"Oh. And here I thought we were getting along so well." The warrior's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I was even going to name one of my children after you. The grumpy one."
"Enough!" The robed man threw his hands in the air. "I will speak to the woman if I must. Get out of my way, fool!" He pushed past Rhianna and stormed off down the stairs.
The man in scale mail smiled when he noticed Rhianna and Solona. "You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together."
"I'm sorry, what?" Rhianna asked.
"Oh, nothing. Just trying to find a bright side to all this."
Solona shot Rhianna a glance, and wrinkled her nose. "You're a very strange man."
"Believe me, you're not the first woman to tell me that," he quipped.
He was slightly taller than average, with short, dark blonde hair that stuck up in the front. He looked familiar, too. Something about the lines of his face pulled at her memory, but Rhianna couldn't remember where she might have met him before. Or perhaps it was just that he fit the description of the man Duncan had asked them to find.
"Let me guess. You must be Alistair," Rhianna said.
His eyes grew wide. "How did you know that? We haven't met before, have we? I'd feel awful if we'd met before and I'd forgotten. Not that I think I would have forgotten two such lovely women as yourselves, but sometimes things get away from me, if you know what I mean." He looked at Solona, and then at Rhianna, studying her face for rather a long time. "No, I'm certain we haven't met. I would definitely have remembered." He paused. "But yes, I am Alistair." He turned to Solona. "I don't suppose you happen to be another mage, do you?"
"What was your first clue?" Solona glanced at the staff strapped to her back, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Would that make your day worse?"
"Oh no, of course not." More sarcasm. "My day is getting better and better by the moment. Mages just love me." He turned to Rhianna. "And what about you? Are you going to make my day the best it could possibly be and tell me that you're also a mage? I'm guessing not. Well, hoping not, really. You don't look like a mage."
"No, I'm not a mage," Rhianna said carefully, not at all sure what to make of this man. Solona was right; he was strange.
Dane sat on his haunches beside Rhianna, and let out a soft whine. Apparently, he agreed with Solona, as well.
"Well, that's something." Alistair pulled at his chin thoughtfully. "But you knew my name. There must be a reason for that." He lifted a brow. "You're Duncan's new recruits, aren't you?"
"Yes," Solona replied. "He sent us to find you, actually, and let you know that he's returned."
"Thank you for that. I'm glad to hear he's back. Perhaps we should head over to the camp; I'm looking forward to hearing everything that happened to him on his travels."
Solona glanced at Rhianna and shrugged. Her meaning was clear: they'd seen most of the camp already, so they might as well go with him.
"So," Solona began as they walked, "Why were you arguing with that mage?"
"Oh. That." He shrugged. "Well, the Circle is here at the king's request, and the Chantry doesn't like that one bit. And, of course, the Chantry just loves letting mages know how unwelcome they are, as often as possible. So, when the Revered Mother had a message for one of them, she asked me to deliver it. I'm sure she meant it as an insult, and the mage picked right up on that."
"An insult?" Rhianna asked. "Why would he be insulted because you delivered the message?" Alistair was a bit strange, but there wasn't anything particularly unpleasant about him.
"Because before I was a Grey Warden, I used to be a templar. Which makes me rather unpopular with our visitors from the Circle of Magi."
"You were a templar?" Solona straightened, and there was tension in her voice that hadn't been there before.
"Yes, well, sort of. I'd nearly completed my training, but hadn't yet taken my vows when I was recruited into the Wardens. Most of the mages I've met don't seem to care about the distinction, though."
"Are you are going to have a problem with me? With my magic?"
"Problem?" He sounded genuinely surprised. "No! No problem. I'm not trying to be troublesome. It's just that just my background makes mages nervous." He wrinkled his nose. "And nervous mages make me nervous. I don't want to be a toad; I like me the way I am. So, as long you don't turn me into anything small and warty, we'll get along just fine."
Solona raised a brow. "Well, so long as you don't give me cause to turn you into anything small and warty, I suppose there won't be a problem."
Surely, Solona was bluffing. Was it even possible to turn people into toads? Then again, maybe it was possible; she didn't really sound like she was joking. Rhianna would have to ask about that later.
"Good." Alistair chuckled nervously. "I'm glad we've got that settled. So," he said with a grand sweep of his arm, as though wanting very much to change the subject, "As you've probably already discovered, this is the king's camp, which is separate from the where bulk of the army is set up. Here, we've got the Grey Wardens, the Circle of Magi, the Chantry. And of course, King Cailan and Teyrn Loghain. You can't swing a dead cat without hitting somebody important."
"Loghain?" Solona glanced at Rhianna, a question in her eyes. "Wait a minute . . . isn't that the name of the man-"
"Yes," Rhianna said hurriedly, with a small shake of her head, hoping Solona would get the hint. "It is."
Solona did get the hint. "Oh. That's good to know." Solona grinned, but asked no further questions.
"What's this about Teyrn Loghain?" Alistair asked.
"Nothing," Rhianna replied. "Just that I know him. He was a . . . friend of my family, for most of my life."
"Is that so?" Alistair chuckled. "Now, he seems to spend most of his time arguing with King Cailan. I get the feeling they don't always see eye to eye on things."
They passed by a cluster of tents, in front of which several women were gathered together on benches that were arranged to form a little courtyard.
Alistair made a disapproving noise in his throat.
"What is it?" Solona asked. "Is something wrong?"
"What? No. It's just . . . I can't believe the king allows those women to set up their tents. Right here, with the army."
Those women?
Rhianna took a longer glance, and realized what his disapproval was about. The women clearly weren't soldiers. Their clothes were well made, but the bodices cut somewhat lower than would be considered proper here in Ferelden, although still modest compared to the gowns Rhianna had worn in Orlais. Their faces were painted, and some of them had bare feet, and allowed flashes of leg to show as they lounged on the benches.
Prostitutes.
"Of course the king is going to allow them in camp," Rhianna said. "They're offering a service many of the soldiers want."
"Hmnh. Be that as it may, it's hardly seemly to have them just . . . sitting here. In the middle of everything."
Before she could think of a reply, Rhianna stopped walking.
One of those faces was familiar.
"What are you doing?" Alistair called out. Rhianna ignored him as she changed course, and approached the women, with Dane at her side.
"See something you like, love?" one of them cooed. "You're a pretty little thing; I'd give you a tumble at a right good price."
"Thank you, but no." Rhianna walked up to a woman with long, dark hair and pale skin. A woman who, in truth, had more than a passing resemblance to Rhianna.
"Catrin?"
The woman's eyes widened, first with surprise, and then recognition. "Maker's blood. If it isn't Lady Cousland." As Catrin got up from her seat, she glanced down at Rhianna's attire. "I didn't recognize you at first, all grown up and dressed like a soldier? And you've cut off your hair."
"Yes, I suppose I do look different." Rhianna's face burst into a smile. "It's so good to see you!" And it was - it was wonderful to see a familiar face, so far away from home when she least expected it. Impulsively, she stepped forward and pulled the older woman into an embrace.
Laughing, Catrin returned the hug. "And it's wonderful to see you. And you, as well, handsome," she cooed at Dane, as he pushed his nose into her hand.
"You came here, all the way from Denerim?" Rhianna asked.
"Oh, aye. There's a lot of money to be made here just now," she grinned. "A few months following the army, and I'll be set for a year or two."
"But aren't you worried about the darkspawn?"
"No." She shrugged. "We're safe enough I figure. I mean, we're surrounded by the army. I don't see how the darkspawn will get through all of them, just to come after us."
She had a point.
"And what about you," Catrin continued. "Why are you here?"
"I'm joining the Grey Wardens."
Catrin's brow lifted. "You? A Grey Warden? That's unexpected. I would have thought you'd be betrothed by now to that man of yours. I've seen him around camp from time to time. He always has a friendly word for me."
"No." Rhianna struggled to keep her expression neutral. "Loghain and I . . . well, that . . . that's not going to happen."
Catrin's smile disappeared. "Now that really is unexpected." She frowned. "What happened?"
"A lot of things," Rhianna replied. "So many things happened over the past year that I could never have foreseen. So here I am." She glanced behind her; Solona looked a bit tense, as though she was torn between wanting to join the conversation and being uncertain of her welcome. At her side, Alistair stood with his arms crossed, a deep frown on his face. "I'm not sure this is the best time to get into it, though.
"No, I can see that." Catrin reached up and rested her palm on Rhianna's cheek. "We'll talk another time, then. One thing is certain: you look tired. Inside and out."
"I am tired." Rhianna managed a genuine smile, though.
"Rhianna?" Alistair's voice was somewhat higher pitched than it had been before. "We should probably go speak to Duncan now." Rhianna glanced over her shoulder again, but didn't bother to respond.
"I don't think your friend likes me," Catrin chuckled.
"He's not really my friend," Rhianna murmured. "But, he's right. I probably should go."
"Of course. But come and find me some other time. When we can talk longer, and get caught up."
"I will." Rhianna hugged Catrin again. "And whatever you do, stay away from the darkspawn. Please."
"I will, I promise."
Rhianna returned to her companions, and as they walked away, Alistair muttered, "That was awkward."
"Awkward?" Rhianna lifted a brow. "What do you mean?"
"Standing around in the middle of camp, talking to . . . common women."
"You needn't have waited for me, if it bothered you so much."
"That's not the point!"
"No? Then what is?"
"They shouldn't even be here at all. The Chantry says-"
"Alistair." Solona's voice was soft, but firm. "That woman is Rhianna's friend."
"But-"
"They're friends," Solona repeated.
"That's the point!" He turned to Rhianna. "How is it you even know a woman like that, in the first place?"
Rhianna felt a stab of annoyance. "A woman like that? What is that supposed to mean?"
"You know what it means. Look what she does for a living!"
"But you don't even know her. You don't know anything about her, and you just assume she's a bad person?"
Yes, well . . ." He seemed to lose some of his thunder, and let out a ragged sigh. "How do you know her, anyway?"
"How do I know Catrin?" Rhianna stopped walking. "All right. I'll tell you. A few years ago, the Arl of Denerim's son tried to rape me. I managed to fight him off, but afterwards, on the same night, he very nearly murdered Catrin, just because she looks a bit like me. When I found out what had happened, I went to see her, see if there was anything I could do to help her. That's how we met, and we've seen one another now and then over the years. She's a good person. I don't see how what she does for a living has anything to do with it."
"You . . . and she . . ." Alistair's shouldered drooped. "That's . . . awful. That you were both attacked. But-"
"No. There is no 'but.'" Rhianna turned, and with a glance at Solona, who quickly fell into step at her side, began to walk toward the Grey Warden camp. She'd had enough of this particular conversation. They soon reached the bonfire, with Alistair hurrying to keep up.
They arrived to find Duncan talking to two men Rhianna had not seen before: the other two Warden recruits. The three men stood near the fire, while Arcill sat on the ground nearby, his back against a tree. His eyes were closed, and Rhianna couldn't tell if he was asleep, or just resting.
"Ah, excellent timing," Duncan said as Rhianna and Solona joined the group. "I was just preparing to give Daveth and Jory the details of what you'll all be doing tomorrow."
Daveth was thin and wiry, with dark hair and a cheeky, but extremely charming smile. The other recruit, Jory, had dark red hair and a shield that marked him as a knight of Redcliffe. There was something familiar about him; Rhianna had seen him somewhere before, but she couldn't remember when or where.
"I was not aware women were permitted to join the Grey Wardens," Jory's said upon being introduced to Rhianna and Solona.
"Is that a problem for you?" Solona sounded deeply unimpressed.
"It's just that none of those I've seen thus far have been."
Rhianna gave an overly wide smile as she looked him up and down. He was tall and reasonably well muscled, but looked likely to be slow. No doubt, she could take him. "If you've any doubts about our abilities, I'll be more than happy to meet you on the practice field." She fingered the dagger at her waist.
"No, n-no. Of course not," he stuttered. "That's not necessary. You obviously impressed Duncan, and that's enough for me."
When he turned his head, the memory of where she'd seen him before came back to her. "Wait a minute . . . You won the grand melee in the tournament my father held in Highever, back in Cloudreach."
Rhianna hadn't entered the tournament, specifically because Duncan had been there, watching, but she remembered the man who'd won. This knight was faster than he looked, but his fighting style was ridiculously predictable. She could take him. Easily.
His eyes grew wide. "You're the Teyrn of Highever's daughter?"
"Yes."
"My Lady Cousland." He bowed. "I'm honored."
"Don't be. I'm just a Grey Warden now. Or will be soon." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Duncan's eyes widen. She glanced at him, and he nodded his head, slightly, as if in approval.
"You carry a Redcliffe device," Rhianna continued. "What were you doing in Highever?"
"My wife, Helena, is from Highever, and Arl Eamon gave me leave to serve there. I was attempting to persuade her to come back with me to Redcliffe." He wrinkled his nose. "The damp air in Highever didn't suit me. Then, of course, I was recruited."
"So," Rhianna began, careful to keep her tone light. "She remained in Highever?"
"Yes." He smiled proudly, with no hint of worry. "She's there now, expecting our first child."
Clearly, he hadn't heard the recent news from the north. Perhaps she'd pull him aside later and tell him what had happened. Then again, perhaps it would be kinder not to say anything. There was no Helena who had worked in the castle, and since Rhianna didn't know the woman personally, she probably hadn't been harassed by the Amaranthine guards, and was safe and sound.
Duncan filled the silence that followed. "As Alistair may have mentioned, in order to prepare for the Joining ritual, you will each need to obtain a vial of darkspawn blood. To do that, you'll venture into the Korcari Wilds first thing in the morning."
Rhianna's breath caught in her throat. "You're sending us out into the Wilds?"
Hadn't Cailan said that Fergus was scouting out in the Wilds?
"Yeah," Daveth drawled, "I wasn't happy about that part, either, when I heard about it. I grew up in a village about a day's trip to the east of here, right on the edge of the Wilds, and we stayed as far away from the forest as possible. Cannibals, beasts, witches, and now darkspawn? What isn't there to be scared of?"
Rhianna gave him a brief smile, but then turned back to the Warden commander. "Duncan?" she said simply.
His eyes narrowed as he returned her gaze. "Rhianna . . . I don't think-"
"Please, Duncan. You can't say no to this." She dropped her voice until it was barely above a whisper. "My brother is out there. He deserves to know what happened, and I need to know that he's all right. That he's still alive. Please. If we're going out there anyway, just let me at least look for signs that he might be nearby."
Duncan glanced at Alistair, and then back at Rhianna. "All right. But you must be back at camp by sunset. Which means you won't be able to go far. And you must attend to the tasks I'm giving you before anything else. Is that understood?"
"Yes, ser."
"Wait?" Jory's voice rang out loudly. "Are you saying that we're being sent out into the Wilds to look for darkspawn, only now we're going to have to stay out longer, to look for this woman's long lost brother?"
Rhianna whirled to face him. "You don't have to come with me. I'll get a vial of blood for you and hold your hand all the way back to camp, if you like. Then I'll look for Fergus on my own."
"That is not going to happen," Duncan said firmly, his eyes on Rhianna. "You will all stay together." He paused. "In any case, Jory, I have a second task for all of you to undertake, so you would be traveling some distance away from camp regardless of the search for Rhianna's brother. There was once a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago when we could no longer afford to maintain such remote outposts. It has recently come to our attention that some scrolls have been left behind, magically sealed to protect them. I want you to retrieve those scrolls if you can."
"Is this also part of our Joining?" Solona asked.
"No, but the effort must be made. The scrolls are old treaties, if you're curious. Promises of support made to the Grey Wardens long ago. They may prove very useful in the days to come."
"Wait, you said the five of us?" Daveth lifted a brow. "Does that mean you're sending us recruits out there all on our own?"
"No," Duncan replied. "Alistair will accompany you. But Arcill will remain here, in camp."
"And what's so special about him," Jory complained, "that he gets to stay behind in the safety of the camp?"
"Jory, hush," Rhianna warned quietly, and shot the man a look intended to silence him. To Duncan, "Give me his vial; I'll get the blood he needs."
Duncan nodded, but before he could respond, Jory interrupted. "No, I will not be silenced. He's bigger than any of us, and I expect that axe of his would be handy against the darkspawn."
"Jory," Rhianna repeated. "Lower your voice. Please."
"I don't have to do what you say. You're not a teyrn's daughter anymore. And I want to know why he's not coming with us."
"Shut up, you fool," Solona hissed, in a voice pitched low enough not to carry far. "Can't you see he's ill? He's probably not strong enough to come with us, and listening to you complain isn't going to help. It'll only make him feel worse. So just stop it."
"Oh." To his credit, Jory managed to look reasonably chagrined, and he left off his questions.
"All right." Duncan paused, and looked at each of them in turn. "I think that's everything you'll need to know for tomorrow. Feel free to do what you like this evening. All I ask is that you stay here, in this part of the king's camp, rather than going out of the city to where the bulk of the army is located."
As the Wardens and recruits disbursed, Jory pulled Daveth aside, and began whispering furiously. Rhianna could guess what he was saying, but she honestly didn't care.
She strode over to the tent she would share with Solona, and ducked inside. Solona followed, and together, the two women set up their few things in as comfortable a manner as possible.
"You know," Solona began, "I'm happy to go anywhere with you, to help you find your brother." She put her hands on her hips. "I don't like that Jory anyway. No women in the Grey Wardens? Who does he think he is?"
"I know." Rhianna rolled her eyes. "I almost wished he'd pressed the matter. I would have enjoyed teaching him a lesson on the practice field." She sighed. "But thank you, for your support. I just can't go out into the Wilds and not look for Fergus. I need to know that he's all right. That Howe's men haven't somehow gotten to him, or darkspawn, or . . . well, what was it Daveth said? Cannibals, beasts and witches?" She chuckled in spite of herself. "Witches. At least that's not likely to be a problem."
She began to unbuckle her armor, wanting to see how the new leathers she had bought would fit. With Solona's help, in a matter of minutes, Rhianna was strapped into her new armor, which was dyed black with lovely knot work tooled into the leather at the shoulders. She was pleased; it fit perfectly, as though it had been made for her. The leather was thicker than she was used to; that might slow her down at first, but it would also give better protection. No doubt, that would come in handy sooner or later.
Solona sat on her cot. "I wish we could go out into the rest of the camp. I was hoping to find my cousins."
"Why don't you go ask Duncan about it? Maybe he'll give us permission to go out there tonight? Maybe he'll even help you find them. We can't exactly just wander out into the camp, after all. There are thousands of soldiers here. It would be like looking for two needles in a haystack."
"That's true," Solona laughed. "I think I will go talk to Duncan, though. Do you want to come along?" Solona's offer was sincere, but Rhianna detected a hint of some hesitation in her voice.
"No, that's all right. You go without me." Now that they were here in camp, perhaps Solona would try and arrange a bit of private time with Duncan.
"All right. What are you going to do instead?"
I don't know," Rhianna replied. But there was something in the back of her mind, something that had been pecking away at her consciousness since they first set foot into camp.
Actually, she did know what she wanted to do. What she needed to do.
"On second thought, I do have an idea. There's someone I want to go and visit."
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Many thanks to my lovely beta readers, Psyche Sinclair, Sehnsuchttraum and Amanda Kitswell, and also to all my reviewers: Milly-finalfantasy, KatDancer2, KrystylSky, Skidney, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Tyrannosaurustex, Kateskate24, and SwomeeSwan.
I apologize for not getting Loghain into this chapter, but first there was just so much to do, and so many people to see, here in camp. We'll see him in the next chapter, though. Oh yes, we will. :D
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