Chapter 11 - Unravelling the Mystery

Anders was adamant at first. "No, I can't tell you, Commander. People trust their healer not to talk. I bet you wouldn't appreciate it if I told everyone about any... ailment you might be suffering from, would you?"

"Look, Anders, this isn't the time for your little games." Loghain was growing impatient. "We're looking for a murderer here. And if you want me to believe in your innocence..."

"Fine, fine." Anders grumbled. "Though I fail to see a connection between the murders and old Mistress Woolsey's heart condition."

"A heart condition?" Loghain was surprised. The old woman had always seemed as healthy as a horse to him. "A fatal one? Is she dying?"

Anders shrugged. "That would depend. If she leads a quiet life, keeps taking her new medicine, avoids stress... she may well last another ten years. But she could also die tomorrow. The present conditions are hardly conducive to her health, that much is certain."

Loghain sighed. "They aren't conducive to anyone's well-being, believe me." He got up to leave the room. "I need to talk to Howe."

Nathaniel had disappeared. Loghain searched half of the Keep, until Oghren pointed him to a little used back stair. Climbing up, he found the young man in a dusty old room filled with cobwebs and broken toys. Nathaniel looked physically sick, his face pale and clammy, his eyes feverish.

"Our old nursery." He indicated his surroundings with a quick motion of his head. "I thought I could have some peace here."

Loghain took a seat on one of the scratched, ink-stained desks. For a moment he indulged in imagining what this room must have looked like twenty years ago; young Thomas and Nathaniel working at their lessons, while little Delilah was playing with the tiny wooden horse. He shook off the vision with an impatient grunt. I'm getting old and sentimental.

"You have to snap out of this, Nathaniel," he said aloud. "I need your help."

"My help? Why?" The bitterness in Nathaniel's voice was almost tangible. "Why should I care who killed her?"

"You do care!" Loghain was tempted to shake him. "Look, I don't know about Morena, but I believe you really loved her. And even if you didn't, there's a murderer at large here in the Keep. You have a responsibility. And I've never known a Howe shirk his duties!"

Nathaniel's head snapped up. "You know just how to get to me, don't you?" He sounded tired. "All right. Let's get back to it."

Loghain nodded. "Good. There'll be time to sort out your feelings later."

Back in Loghain's quarters, they spent most of the afternoon going through all their notes, reading all the papers over and over. But it was fruitless.

"We're going in circles," Loghain sighed when they had discussed everyone's motives and opportunities for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I think we need to have another look at the bodies."

Nathaniel's face clearly showed his revulsion. "Do we have to? I-"

"There must be something we've overlooked. Some connection we've missed." Loghain was determined now. "Come."

The air in the chapel was so cold they could see the plumes of air in front of their faces. Loghain examined Morena's body again, while Nathaniel looked Velanna over, but nothing new came to light. When they came to Garevel's corpse, however, and moved it around in order to have a better look at it, something tumbled to the floor with a metallic sound.

"What's that?" Loghain stooped to pick it up. "It must have slipped from his pocket."

It was a small, golden locket, very plain, with a little clasp on the side.

"That was Seneschal Varel's." Nathaniel took the trinket from his hand to examine it more closely. "I remember seeing him wear it." He fumbled with the clasp for a moment until it fell open. "What in Andraste's name-"

The locket contained the tiny portrait of a woman. She looked younger in the painting, her hair a pale blond instead of white, but there was no mistaking Mistress Woolsey's proud, arrogant expression.

"Look, there's an engraving. Yours forever. But why would Varel..." Nathaniel's mouth opened for a moment in amazement as things fell into place. "Oh, Maker. Remember what she said about him trusting her. And Velanna... She must have known or guessed about the two of them."

"Morena let someone dear to her die," Loghain quoted Velanna's words grimly. "If Mistress Woolsey was in love with Varel, it all makes sense. And of course she could have done it. She knew about the poison. Anders probably explained to her how dangerous it was. She knew everyone's habits. And she had keys to all the rooms."

"We only have her own word that she was with Oghren the night Velanna died. And Garevel trusted her. She must have manipulated his notes to put us on a false trail." Nathaniel seemed stunned. "Who would have thought she'd be so cunning?"

"I believe it's time we had a chat with her, don't you think?" Loghain got up and pushed his chair back. "I can't say I'm looking forward to this."

"And Seneschal Garevel? How did I kill him?" Mistress Woolsey's voice dripped with sarcasm. "If I recall correctly you can't even be sure he was actually poisoned."

"I think I worked that one out." Nathaniel ignored Loghain's surprised face. "Remember the dead pigeon on the battlements? And Anders was eating leftover honey cakes, which means that Cook made fresh ones this morning." He turned to Mistress Woolsey. "You could easily have poisoned a few and taken them out to Garevel. Any crumbs would have been picked up by the birds."

The old lady raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "An interesting theory, but I doubt you'll be able to prove it. Or do you expect me to make a dramatic confession now?"

Loghain shook his head. "No. I think we have enough proof as it is. And now that we know what to look for, we'll find more. Though I have to admit I don't understand why you would blame Morena for Varel's death. He died a hero. He chose to sacrifice himself to defend the Keep."

Mistress Woolsey's laugh was bitter. "Oh, is that what they told you? No, Commander. Morena sent him to the gate despite his misgivings. An old man and a few foot soldiers against an attacking ogre, while she stayed back. She killed him as surely as if she had slain him herself."

Loghain shrugged. "It's not my place to judge her decision. Still, it's not like you to kill her just for your own petty revenge."

She smiled at him, but the smile never reached her eyes. "Exactly. And if you're trying to trick me into saying that I killed her, you'll have to be a lot more subtle. But I don't mind telling you that I don't regret Morena's death. She was a disgrace to the Wardens. A whore and a blood mage!" The old woman's eyes were almost feverish now. "And Velanna was just as bad. No. I won't grieve for either of them. Ser Garevel, now, that's sad, even though he was a young fool. Thought he had to prove he could handle the duties of a seneschal all by himself." Mistress Woolsey snorted. "He wasn't half the man Varel was."

Loghain sat back with a sigh. "Varel wouldn't have wanted this."

Mistress Woolsey looked up, her face set like stone. "Varel is gone. And so is Morena. I no longer care about the rest, Commander. Do what you will."

Loghain looked at her for a long moment, remembering Zevran's words. Sometimes love just grows more powerful as people approach the winter of their lives. "Call in the guards. We'll send her to Weisshaupt with an armed escort. Let the First Warden decide her fate."

After the guards led Mistress Woolsey out, Nathaniel stayed behind for a moment. "It's a long and arduous journey to the Anderfels, Loghain. At her age and with her illness... You do realize she probably won't survive it."

Loghain nodded. When he closed his eyes, he could see Morena's face, the way she had smiled at him on that last night. "True. She probably won't."

I can't thank zevgirl enough for her help and support in writing this. And I'd like to thank all of you who've alerted and faved this story and written such lovely, thoughtful reviews. This was so much fun!