Chapter Ten

Zevran cleared his throat gently and Seryer raised a brow in his direction. Trying not to flinch beneath the master's penetrating glare he stated his second purpose. "Juilden also has a duty to discharge before he is free to join," he hesitated between saying 'you' or 'us', "the Crows."

"The matter of his family?"

Zevran echoed Juilden's quiet gasp. They shouldn't have been shocked, either of them, not really, but it still surprised to know just how much information Seryer had access to.

Juilden's voice almost cracked. "Do you have any information?"

"Only that they exist, Juilden, and that they are not where they should be, hm?" Seryer studied the former brethren a moment before continuing. "Perhaps there is something I can do on this score."

Juilden swallowed and Zevran could almost hear the lump in his brother's throat. Accepting this offer would effectively bind Juilden to Seryer and despite his love for his family, this would be a hard decision, or so Zevran felt, but Juilden immediately followed his dry swallow with, "Anything, Seryer, anything you could do would be appreciated."

Another raised hand summoned the same elven rogue and Seryer spoke almost inaudibly into his ear a moment before looking up. "I will call for a parlay." His shoulders shrugged lightly once again. "If Cerin honors it, you will have an audience with her and may ask after your family."

Zevran could not hide the shock on his face, Juilden simply looked almost pathetically grateful. Zevran reached forward and placed a hand on his brother's arm. "Juilden, you…" He had no right to talk his brother out of this move. This was Juilden's wife and child! Aedan would do the same with even less hesitation and more at stake.

Juilden turned to look at his hand and then raised his face to meet his eyes. Zevran merely nodded and removed his hand.

"Would it surprise you, Zevran, that I make this gesture as Juilden's payment for services rendered?"

Zevran turned to Seryer in surprise. "You are not at all as I expected, Seryer, I do not think anything you could do would surprise me any longer."

Seryer clapped his hands together and laughed. "You have discovered my secret then! Always keep them guessing my young rogues! Always keep them on their toes."

The way he said young caught Zevran's attention and he studied Seryer properly, discovering that he looked older than he had at first appeared. He carried more age and wisdom within his eyes than his youthful aspect accounted for, and the deep gloss of his hair might have been perhaps a bit too shiny. An application of colour over the beginnings of grey? The master obviously relied upon his cunning and perhaps had the art of glamour to subtly blur his appearance upon first meeting. This was not unheard of and would indeed be a skill someone in his position would cultivate and use. Seryer's eyes met his and Zevran flicked his glance away.

"Thank you, Seryer." Juilden's voice showed proper respect and Zevran echoed it.

They left Anora's head in the Crows' diligent care. Under instruction from Seryer, Sebastian would undertake two tasks on behalf of the brothers. The first would be to secure them passage to Ferelden the following day, courtesy of the Crows.

"Consider this your payment for services rendered." Seryer put forth in a tone that invited no further discussion.

The second task did not sit well with Sebastian, he'd been unable to hide his scowl upon receiving his instructions. He would be waiting at the docks for them at the appropriate time with the box. Zevran understood the gesture. Sebastian would learn his place in the order of things and Zevran would be officially escorted onto the ship and away from Antiva.

Further, the brothers were invited to rest, clean up and have their wounds properly tended. Zevran took advantage of the offer – looking back over the previous few days, he had no idea when such an opportunity might come again, and though he hoped to be aboard a ship to Ferelden tomorrow he knew nothing was certain until it was done.

A rested and refreshed pair of rogues left the house several hours later and Zevran gestured to Juilden to take the lead. Out of habit they slipped from shadow to shadow, taking advantage of the slanting afternoon light, but both knew it wasn't really necessary. If the leader of the Crows had sent them to visit the leader of the Brethren only a fool would intervene. The house they had escaped from two nights earlier stood only a short distance away and they reached it within twenty minutes, both them completing the journey in silence. They stopped across the street and glanced at one another, the house and then one another again. Zevran didn't have to ask what Juilden thought. His own mind screamed at him that they were fools to come back here, despite assurances of talk and deals.

Squaring their shoulders they crossed the road together with Juilden taking the lead as they nimbly ascended the three stone steps to the portico. The front door almost opened before Juilden finished knocking and they were invited into the building.

Cerin waited for them in a downstairs sitting room, an altogether more pleasantly furnished chamber than the room Zevran had awoken to on his previous visit. She rose and greeted them coolly, but cordially, and her manner made it plain only her honor kept her from having the pair of them dragged into the dungeon on sight. The war must have cost the Brethren as greatly as the Crows if she did not seek to anger Seryer.

No one sat. They all stood awkwardly in front of chairs until Cerin perched on the edge of the chair behind her, looking down as she smoothed her skirts. Zevran and Juilden copied her, also resting the barest amount of leather on the chairs behind them, their legs evenly spaced, their hands resting lightly atop their thighs. The silence continued a moment until Cerin cleared her throat in a professional manner and said, "Well, gentlemen, you called this meeting, how can I help you?"

Juilden got straight to the point. "I have come for my family."

Cerin purred in return, "Ah. And what will you give me in exchange?"

Juilden blinked and Zevran did too. "Exchange?"

"We are making a trade, yes?" Cerin arched a brow and her expression clearly read, 'You should have expected this.'

Zevran felt his shoulders slump. Whatever the price, he knew it would be too high. Juilden dropped forward from his chair, on his knees in front of Cerin. Zevran shook his head. "Juilden, no."

"Me. That is the price, am I correct?"

Cerin turned an eye upon Zevran. "You see, Zevran, I do pick the clever ones."

"No." Zevran stood. He did not reach for his weapons, but his posture clearly stated his intention.

Cerin merely looked at him without inviting or deterring and a lengthy silence ensued. Finally Cerin said, "Are you going to draw your blades or not, Zevran?"

Zevran did not know what he would do. He didn't want his brother to die, but he didn't quite like the idea of dying himself, either, which is what would happen if he drew his blades in front of Cerin. He dropped his hands and said, "Something else, Cerin. Name another price."

Cerin laughed harshly. "I am touched! Your brother betrayed you, Zevran. He killed his brethren! He killed Crows! Yet you would beg for his life?"

Zevran dropped his head and looked at Juilden, examined his brother's face. He saw a broken man again. "If I pay the price, will you give Juilden his family and let them sail to Ferelden?"

"Are you offering yourself, Zevran?"

"In a way."

"Oh? This should be interesting." Cerin looked intrigued.

"We have come here with honorable intent, Cerin. I propose we settle this the same way, as has been done for centuries. A duel. Will you fight me yourself?" Zevran allowed himself to give her an appraising look. "Or choose a champion?"

Zevran had no idea if this would work, he merely stalled for time as his mind ticked over the possible ways he could extract both himself and Juilden from this nest of Brethren and get them both on the ship to Ferelden. His brother might forgive him, in time. Cerin looked at him oddly and then she smiled, slowly, a predatory sort of smile.

"And intriguing idea, Zevran. What do you think, Juilden?"

Juilden worked his mouth, but not words came out.

"He is dumbstruck!" Cerin cackled.

Zevran lowered his brows and said quietly, "Juilden?"

Juilden got to his feet. "I will fight."

Zevran looked into his brother's eyes expecting to see the broken spirit of a man who would not last one minute in a duel and found instead determination. They stared at one another and Juilden's brown eyes deepened, darkened and Zevran almost flinched. He nodded and stepped back.

Juilden turned to Cerin. "Name your champion."

"Though it would amuse me to have you fight one another, that would hardly be fair, now would it. And not really within the rules seeing as neither of you serve me." Her eyes locked with Juilden's and her intent was clear. She no longer considered him a member of the Brethren.

"You may stand down gentlemen there is no need for your duel. Though the idea amuses me to no end, I'm not sure you'd find the reward equal to the task. I have already extracted my payment, you see. I am a wicked woman, am I not, seeking further exchange? But our banter has been such a light moment in an otherwise dull day."

Zevran shivered then, he had an inkling of what was to come but his mind refused to nudge it further and even shied away from the thought.

Cerin lifted her chin, her gesture to unseen eyes so much more subtle than Seryer's raised hand. The door opened and two brethren came in holding two bulging sacks. They stepped forward and dumped the sacks in front of her and then quietly left the room. Zevran took a step back and closed his eyes.

Juilden dropped to his knees with a cry that didn't sound human and his fingers clutched at the rope tied around the top of the largest one. Zevran quickly crouched beside him and stayed his hand.

"Juilden, don't…"

Juilden shoved his hand away and continued pulling at the rope, his face a mask of pain. Zevran honestly didn't know what to do, he didn't want to see what made these sacks bulge with odd protrusions and he didn't think Juilden's mind would stand it either. But on the other hand, perhaps he Juilden needed to know, needed to see, so that he could…no, no one needed to see this.

He pulled at Juilden's hands again and held them both tightly within his. "Juilden stop! You do not want to see, trust me brother, you do not want to see this."

Turning toward the sacks again, Juilden pulled weakly against Zevran's grip and then folded completely for a moment and Zevran thought his brother was going to collapse on the floor he leaned so heavily into his hands. Then Juilden pushed himself against Zevran's hands and launched himself to his feet with a strangled cry. He ran at Cerin with his hands outstretched.

"You *****!"

Zevran sprang to his feet and stepped up to restrain Juilden. Not because he feared for Cerin's life, but for that of his brother. "Juilden, no!"

Juilden elbowed him across the face and Zevran stumbled back as his brother threw himself at Cerin. The door to the room banged open and the two men were back and they fell on Juilden, pulling him away from the leader of the Brethren before he even touched her and bore him to the floor, pinning him there. Zevran shook his head and steadied his footing but did not move to intervene. His mind whirled. That the brethren merely held Juilden to the floor rather than outright killing him was a good sign. Zevran laughed bitterly at this thought, there was nothing good about any of this. He looked up at Cerin and noted she looked completely unfazed, her honey coloured eyes resting dispassionately on Juilden.

"Escort these Crows from my house." She flicked a glance toward the sacks. "And make sure he does not forget to take his family."

Juilden continued to struggle against the men holding him on the floor and they made no move to let him go until he quieted a little. Zevran still stood dumbly, his eyes on his brother, but barely focused. Of all the contracts he had fulfilled, of all the assassinations he had performed, nothing had ever been like this. He'd never killed a child, never, and the thought that one lay inside a sack, his eyes flicked to the smallest sack, filled him with a grief he'd never experienced before. He felt an odd curiosity over the sack, a draw to it, but shaking his head he stood his ground and waited cautiously for Juilden to calm down. It would do no good to intervene; he would comfort his brother at a better time, in a better place.

Finally Zevran crouched down and inserted himself between the two brethren to put a hand on Juilden's shoulder. Juilden looked up at him and seemed to calm for a moment. "Juilden, we need to leave."

He hated saying these words, they seemed so cold, but Zevran was at a complete loss. He just wanted to get his brother out of here, away from Cerin and a situation that would likely drive him mad. He said his name again, "Juilden."

Juilden stopped struggling and the brethren leaned back. Zevran helped him to his feet and without a backward glance at Cerin he led his brother to the door, down the hall, and out of the house. They walked down the stairs, across the street and around the corner. Zevran saw a small public garden and led Juilden into it. His brother walked stiffly, one foot in front of the other, not making a sound, his eyes staring dully ahead. When Zevran stopped Juilden stopped, turned and said, "We have to go back, I cannot leave them there."

Then he crumpled. He put his arms out and fell to his knees and made awful sobbing sounds. Zevran knelt next to him and slipped beneath Juilden's arms so that he hugged his brother. Juilden dropped his head to Zevran's shoulder and shook with tears and sorrow. Zevran had no idea how long they stayed in that garden, but the air cooled and night fell and still Juilden grieved. Zevran sat there and thought about a lot of things. None of it new, the same faces the same places, the same confusing tugs of emotion. He knew he was avoiding thinking about the decision he had to make and eventually he closed his eyes and let those thoughts come too. If he returned to Antiva and took a position at Seryer's side, he would be condoning this sort of action. This would be his lot - this web of deceit and lies and this devaluing of life, the hardening of hearts and the fulfilling of contracts. He did not doubt that Seryer would be capable of actions similar to what Cerin had done and he shivered at the thought. He had harbored ambitions to lead the Antivan Crows? He had desired to be that kind of man? He had changed, he accepted it now, and his decision would be whether or not he accepted that change.