Chapter 9

The True Threat

"Lieutenant Vallorin, welcome back."

"Hello, Lieutenant Pellinore." Ceyrabeth smiled down at Pellinore from atop Eregost. She was rather surprised at how much seeing him, and the rest of the Legion, felt like coming home. "What's the news?"

"The Captain wants to see you in the command tent, lieutenant. Immediately."

"Immediately. Of course he does." Ceyrabeth sighed. She had ridden hard for days. A bath had been the only thing on her mind for roughly the last hundred miles. She felt like less than half a human. But...it was Sul, and she could not defy him. She handed Keiran the reins. "Take Eregost for me, will you?"

Ceyrabeth followed Pellinore through camp, astonished at the number of smiles directed at her, and the number of times she heard, "Welcome back Lieutenant!" or "Glad you're back, Lieutenant!"

Sul echoed the trend. She found him in his usual place; pouring over a map in the command tent, "Welcome back, Lieutenant," He greeted her without looking up.

Ceyrabeth bowed at the waist. "Thank you sir."

He straightened and folded his hands behind his back. "Your report?"

"Yes sir." Ceyrabeth thoroughly laid out the events of the last weeks. When she mentioned Gaetano's name, she was surprised to see Sul's lip curl with scorn. "He doesn't think much of you either, Captain." She informed him dryly.

"No, I imagine he does not. Is he in camp?"

"No, sir," She replied with a grimace. "Thank Andraste for small favors."

"Indeed." Sul steepled his fingers. "Still I'm curious about this artifact he's managed to acquire."

"I'd just as soon never see it-or him- again." Ceyrabeth huffed. "So if my next mission is to retrieve it, Captain, I respectfully submit my resignation."

A smile flickered over Sul's lips; just a second before it was gone, but Ceyrabeth knew it had been there. "No, Lieutenant. We have bigger issues at the moment."

Ceyrabeth frowned, "Sir?"

"Follow me," He said, turning without even waiting to see if she was actually following and striding away from her, a heavy cloak of dark purple flaring out behind him.

"Yes, sir," Ceyrabeth muttered and with a sigh trudged after him. At the stables, the Captain ordered Banshee and Eregost saddled and the shell-shocked stable hand had it done in less time than it took to blink.

They rode out of camp to the south, the road packed firm by the tramp of many feet. It made for easy riding and after about an hour, they were facing a steep incline.

Sul dismounted and so did Ceyrabeth. "Leave Eregost," He commanded. "I would rather not have your mount spooked."

"Yes, sir." She said automatically, but then a thought nudged its way into her mind. "Wait…how do you spook the undead?" Sul made no reply. "You know," She puffed, cursing the fact that she was being forced to march uphill in full armor. "The Darkspawn have to be close on our heels."

"You are mistaken, Lieutenant," Sul replied, not sounding the least bit out of breath as he crested the peak and gestured out to the vista, "They are already here."

Ceyrabeth's eyes went wide and the blood drained from her face, "Maker preserve me," She whispered: The darkspawn were swarming over the ground like an upended ant hill; clamoring over everything that moved. They were a hissing, snarling mass of horror and her stomach turned at the sight of them. Even as she watched she could see the ground and vegetation wither and blacken from their blighted presence. The smell slammed into her with the force of a warhammer: heat and rot and decay, like a bloated corpse left to putrefy in the sun. She had her hand over her mouth to keep from being sick.

"Their scent was on the winds a day and a half ago," Sul stated impassively giving no outward indications of discomfort, "But you can feel the presence of the horde from further still."

"Fe—feel?" She swallowed back bile, "I thought Grey Wardens—."

Sul turned to regard her coolly, his eyes hidden by the samite bindings, "What you're experiencing right now? That feeling of wrongness, of corruption? Anyone who cares to can detect it, at a cost."

"Cost?"

"For the remainder of your days, Ceyrabeth, you will never be able to forget how the horde got inside you blood, wormed its way behind your bones….and made you feel their corruption," He looked back out upon the roiling mass of filth, "Violated you down to your very soul." Carefully he began to unwind the samite bindings around his eyes.

"What—," Ceyrabeth nearly choked on the rising bile in my throat, "What are you doing?"

"A friend told me that this Blight's threat was greater than any realized," The final wrapping came undone and Sul looked at Ceyrabeth with eyes colored yellow, streaks of green and violet running through them, "That the evil behind it is the true threat."

Ceyrabeth snorted as she composed herself, "You have a friend?"

There was a prolonged silence, a cold and lonely thing that seemed to even smother the sound of the darkspawn horde.

Sul turned his gaze to horizon, "Not anymore," He whispered and his eyes reformed into deep shades of indigo as he looked at the elf woman.

Ceyrabeth was observant- it had served her well her entire life. One man had remained conspicuously absent during her walk through camp. She guessed that whether by need or by accident, Sul had sent the elf with the lyrium markings away. She opened her mouth to utter a retort that would burn hotter than dragon fire...and closed it again. Something in the shifting colors of his eyes told her what he never would. Damn it, she was getting soft. "That was unkind of me, Captain. I apologize." As the seconds passed, Ceyrabeth got restless. "Is your plan for us to stay here until I can experience the worming corruption for myself? Because I have to tell you, that would really-."

A scream, agonized and bestial, cut her off. Sul was stumbling about, his hands over his face. He was making that awful screaming sound, like all the pain in the world was being inflicted upon him. "Captain Sul!" Ceyrabeth cried out and reached out for him.

"Don't touch me!"

Ceyrabeth gasped. His eyes were pools of swirling blackness but it had spread through his face; his forehead, his cheeks, through his nose and down his neck, across his lips and mouth…in his mouth… she could see it forcing itself down his throat like liquid tar and his throat bulged obscenely. He pushed himself away from her and stumbling, he pitched forwards…

…and fell from the precipice.

"No!" The elven woman cried out and she lunged and dove, her armor scraping across the dirt. She reached out and grasped only air. Frantically she clawed forward and nearly threw herself over the edge. There he was, dangling by one hand, holding onto a root and beneath him was the roiling horde of the darkspawn, ravenous and bloated, teeth and claws and swords and death.

"Give me your other hand!" She screamed, dangling over the edge at the waist gripping his wrist as the root began to give away, spilling dust into his upturned face, "Please, I can't hold on."

Sul's mangled features peered back down at the Horde and then once more into Ceyrabeth's eyes.

"Release…me," He croaked.

"No, I've got you! Just give me your other arm!" The weight of her own armor was starting to drag her forward toward death.

"Release me," He commanded again his voice stronger, "You can do nothing for me."

"I can save your flaming life!"

"The life of a heretic? A vile blasphemer?"

The root tore and came free, falling from Sul's hand and vanishing into the maw of the Horde.

"A man you yourself swore to kill?"

Ceyrabeth gritted her teeth, her wounded shoulder on fire with the strain of supporting his weight and trying to stop her own descent, "For the love of the all that is Holy, give me your other arm!"

"By all that is holy, as decried by the Orlesian Chantry, release me!"

"To the Void with the Chantry! Give me your arm!"

Time stood still in that moment and for the first time Ceyrabeth could recall; she saw surprise register across Sul's mutilated features. With a grunt he swung his free arm up. She reached and made contact…

…and the ground beneath her legs gave way.

"No!" She screamed. She slid forward…and jerked to a stop.

"I've got you!" A voice called out from above her. Ceyrabeth dared to look back, the angle giving her vertigo.

It was the elf girl: Tallis. She smiled as she wrapped her legs around Ceyrabeth's waist and gave a wave, "Have you out in a lick," And then inexplicably, her face vanished from view and she felt the young girl's thighs and legs flex. Muscles as thick and hard as cords bulged and Ceyrabeth felt her center of gravity begin to shift as she and Sul were hauled back from the cliff. As soon her waist was on solid ground, Ceyrabeth focused on pulling Sul up, every muscle in her body on fire.

There was a snarl and a jerk, and Ceyrabeth gasped: a darkspawn had attached itself to Sul's leg and was threatening to pull them back down.

"Tallis!" Ceyrabeth screamed. "He's caught, something's got him!"

"One moment please," Tallis said in a voice that spoke of tremendous strain yet attempted nonchalance. She grunted and Ceyrabeth felt the muscles in Tallis' body jolt sharply as they tightened more firmly on Ceyrabeth's waist. A long dagger thudded to the ground on Ceyrabeth's left side.

"Captain, I need my sword hand!"

With a heave that had every one of the nerves in her upper body screaming, she brought Sul up far enough that he could throw his left arm around the back of her neck, grasping her pauldron for purchase. Ceyrabeth plunged Tallis' blade down into the darkspawn's head. It wailed and fell back into the dust and ruin. She closed her arm tightly around Sul and looked back.

"We're clear! Pull!" Ceyrabeth screamed.

"Merevas!" Tallis swore as her body flexed, "What in the name of almighty Koslun do you think I'm doing?!"

Ceyrabeth hazarded a look back: Tallis was on her back, her arms wrapped around a massive tree root. Her back was arched to snapping but with a growl and a curse she heaved and brought Ceyrabeth back onto solid ground. The other elf wasted no time, even as she felt Tallis' legs go slack around her body, to hoist Sul all the way up. She dragged him a solid two feet away from the edge before releasing him.

"And that," Tallis panted "is why I can still get top coin at the Rose," She coughed once and groaned, rubbing her thighs, "Feel like I just got done riding The Bull."

Ceyrabeth managed a weary grin, "'The Bull'?" She asked the younger elf girl wryly.

"He'd just deny ever knowing me." Tallis sagged to the ground next to Sul and pointed, "What happened to him?"

"I'm…not sure," She was suddenly leery about the captain's privacy.

"I'm fine," Sul said calmly and got to his feet. Ceryrabeth was shocked to see that his features had returned to normal, his glass eyes now a combination of yellow with streaks of violet and green.

Suddenly something occurred to Ceyrabeth. "Tallis…don't think I'm ungrateful." She started. "But what in Andraste's name were you doing all the way out here?"

"The stable boy and I are…friends." She said with a wink. "I asked him to keep me up to date on who leaves. I thought it was weird that you and the Captain would be heading out alone, so I followed you. I didn't think I'd be running a rescue mission. So…really though. What happened?"

"I was told by someone that it was the evil behind the Blight that was the true threat," Sul reiterated as he turned his gaze back out to the edge of the cliff, careful not to look directly at the Horde again, "And she was right," He turned back to face the women, "Our plans must be accelerated. This faction of the horde cannot be allowed to rejoin the rest."

"This isn't the whole horde?" Tallis asked agape.

"No, this is but a single arm of it," He turned his glass gaze to Ceyrabeth, "You know it well, Lieutenant: it was the faction that decimated your forces at Ostagar."

Ceyrabeth felt fear give way to rage and she met Sul's shifting eyes as the yellow in them immediately vanished under scarlet bursts like sudden bloodstains on flesh, "If that is true, Captain, then I beg you: give me a chance to avenge myself and my comrades. Let us reclaim our honor."

"For the glory of the Orlesian Chantry?"

"For the memory of our brave king. And…" Ceyrabeth swallowed. "For the mages that I should have protected."

Sul considered a moment then nodded, "Very well; I award you a temporary field command, Lieutenant."

"I…what?"

"Congratulations Commander Ceyrabeth," Sul nodded to her, "Follow me back to camp. Yourself as well Tallis; we will have need of your skills."

"I…yes sir," Tallis stammered and managed a half-salute before running off after him. Ceyrabeth remained frozen in shock.

A command?

"Do not tarry, commander," Sul's voice carried over the sound of the Horde.

"Yeah, hurry up!" Tallis chimed in.

Ceyrabeth's brain whirled; she grasped at the first thought the came to her mind, "How will we lure the Darkspawn into battle, sir?"

Sul stopped and paused thoughtfully, "The Horde is driven by primal urges, a collective consciousness from what I have seen," He removed his belt knife, "And driven by the will of the Archdemon."

"So, how do we get it to follow?" Tallis asked.

"Have you ever encountered a shark before?" Sul asked the girl calmly.

Tallis frowned, puzzled, "Um…no?" She looked at Ceyrabeth who just shook her head with a puzzled expression.

"Much like the horde; they are things of urge and appetite," Slowly he drew the blade across his the palm of his hand.

"What are you doing?" Ceyrabeth yelled.

"Chumming the waters," Sul answered cryptically. He brought the bloody blade to his lips, "Urthemiel," he whispered and then he reared back and cast the knife over the cliff into the ranks of the horde, "Sharks respond to blood in the water. For the Darkspawn, we shall use a more potent lure."

"What's that?" Ceyrabeth asked, tired of trying to keep up.

"Fear," The blind man answered.

"Fear?" Tallis frowned, "Whose fear?"

"Mine," He turned and walked away, "Come, we must prepare ourselves."

Both women exchanged looks of confusion, awe, terror and a thousand other emotions that defied both words and expression.

"Is he serious?" Tallis finally managed.

"I don't know," Ceyrabeth said and then she set her shoulders back in determination. "Let's go find out."