Chapter 11 – Redemption

"The tendency to turn human judgments into divine commands makes religion one of the most dangerous forces in the world." – Georgina Harkness

"Eugh…" moaned Alistair as he stumbled from the inn. "I don't think I should have eaten that…"

"I told you that bread was mouldy," remarked Morrigan without much sympathy. "But no. You decided to swallow it whole."

"Grey Warden here," retorted Alistair, jabbing a thumb at himself. "Insatiable hunger, remember?"

"I know a song that will make you feel better!" chirped Leliana.

"Thanks, but I really don't think singing will help right now," grumbled Alistair, emitting a loud belch.

"Oh, trust me, it will," smiled Leliana. Before Alistair could protest, the former Sister opened her mouth and proceeded to sing the most enchanting song I had ever heard. I was swept with the melody, finding myself flying over a lush green landscape just as the sun burst over the horizon, showering the land with gold and bronze. In that moment, felt free of all care and anything was possible.

"That…that was beautiful," breathed Alistair, eyes slightly glazed from the experience.

"You're welcome," trilled Leliana. "Feeling better?"

"Oh, yeah…"

"Where did you learn to sing like that?" I asked.

"Oh, back home in Orlais before I joined the Chantry," she replied, smiling a bit tightly. "It's nothing special, really."

"On the contrary," interjected Morrigan, "your talent is very special. I believe people of your proficiency are referred to as bards."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"A person who is able to interweave magic and music in such a way as to influence the moods of those around them," explained Morrigan. "It is a rare talent, I am given to understand."

"Looks like there's more to this young Sister than meets that eye," surmised Alistair, looking a lot rosier around the cheeks. Leliana looked away uncomfortably. "But I suggest we leave the elaboration of our life stories for a later time. It's getting late and we still have a lot to do."

With Morrigan in the lead, we picked our way across the churned up earth towards the scanty marketplace. With the help of the bandit's loot, we quickly bought what meagre supplies were on offer before heading towards the Chantry. Outside of the sturdy looking stone building, however, we were greeted by a bizarre sight.

"The legions of evil are on your doorstep! They will feats upon our hearts!" cried a wild-eyed soldier who was standing in the middle of a group of frightened and bemused onlookers. "There is nowhere to run! This evil will cover the world, like a plague of locusts."

"Please," interrupted a man. "You're scaring the women and children…"

Rounding on the man who had spoken, the soldier cried, "Better to slit their throats now than let them suffer at the hands of the darkspawn!"

"A deranged soothsayer," murmured Morrigan. "How quaint."

Hearing Morrigan speak, the man swung around again to address her. When he caught sight of Alistair and me, he visibly blanched. "There! Their minions are already amongst us! These two bear their evil stench! Can you not see the vile blackness that fills them?"

"Ignore him, people," said Alistair, addressing the growing crowd. "He is nothing but a raving lunatic."

"I watched the black horde descend on my people!" the man shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. "Don't tell me that I am mad!"

"Shut him up!" cried a man from the crowd. "I don't want to listen to his tirades any longer!"

"But what if he's right?" asked a woman, clutching a child to her side. "With the Bann gone, we have no one to protect us from the Blight."

"That's right!" cried the man triumphantly. "These two are but the first of those who will destroy us. Just like they destroyed my clan!"

"Oh, you poor soul," murmured Leliana, stepping up to him and laying a soothing hand on him. Upon her touch, the man dissolved into a fit of tears. "What happened to you?"

"They killed them!" he sobbed. "They killed them all! My family was butchered in front of my eyes. And the same will happen to you all!" he shouted, sweeping his hand across the crowd.

"Shh…" chided Leliana, stroking his head. "It's alright…"

"If his entire clan was murdered," mused Morrigan, "how did he escape, I wonder?"

"Evil witch!" hissed the man. "I will not listen to your insidious words!"

"Leave him be," said Alistair. "His brain is clearly addled."

"Why won't you tell us what happened?" I pressed, stepping up to him. "Your story could give these people a chance to save themselves. Then the deaths of your clan will not have been in vain."

The man's eyes brimmed over. "They…they dragged off my wife. I ran to save her, but I was too late. I can still hear her screams…"

"I am truly sorry for your loss," I said sincerely. I knew very well what it was like to lose a loved one. "But scaring all these people will not bring her back."

"Are you calling me a coward?"

"I think she's calling you an idiot," remarked Alistair.

"No!" I protested, shooting my fellow Warden a dirty look. "I was just trying to…"

"I-I am ashamed, yes," admitted the man, casting his eyes down. When he looked up again, they were filled with determination. "But I will not wait for the horde to take me as they did my family! I refuse to become one of them!"

Before any of us could say something, the man produced a knife and stabbed himself in the heart, splattering Leliana in blood. Several people gasped in shock. "There is no hope left…" he managed to wheeze before collapsing to the ground.

A stunned silence enveloped the crowd. A child began to cry, shattering the stillness and eliciting a cacophony of responses ranging from anxiety to derision. A couple of people raked suspicious glances over Alistair and me and began muttering amongst themselves.

"I think that's our queue to leave," I whispered, trying to edge towards the door of the Chantry as unobtrusively as possible.

"You really have a remarkable rapport with crowds," observed Morrigan. "I am surprised you don't make public appearances more often."

"Oh, stuff it," I spat as we moved hastily towards the Chantry. Behind me, I heard Alistair snicker. I didn't feel like asking if it was directed at me or Morrigan. All I could think about was the sudden eruption of blood from the mad soldier's chest, and the all too gruesome resemblance to poor Jory's death. Maybe the solider was right…maybe the Grey Wardens were the harbingers of death…

"I am sorry, but we have no more spare beds," said the Templar guarding the Chantry doors. "I suggest you seek your fortunes elsewhere."

"I thought it would be evident that we are not refugees," muttered Morrigan. "But I suppose the gift of perception is not bestowed upon everyone."

"What my friend here means, sir," said Alistair quickly, "is that we are here to speak with the Revered Mother. We have something for her which she might appreciate."

The guard eyed us suspiciously. At that moment, however, the doors opened and another Templar emerged. Catching sight of us, he smiled. "Ah, the Wardens from the King's Road. You are here to see the Revered Mother, I presume?"

"Yes, sir," replied Alistair. "We were just having a nice chat with one of your men."

"I see," murmured the captain, making the guard cringe. "You best come inside. The Revered Mother is anxious to make your acquaintance."

Filing inside, we were greeted with a miserable sight. Every accessible space along the Chantry's floor was covered with makeshift beds and personal belongings. Forlorn eyes stared out of hollow and dirty faces and solemn-looking Chantry Sisters shuffled silently amongst the pallets, handing out bread and dried meat to the refugees.

"All these poor souls…" sighed Leliana. "How many of them do you suppose there are?"

"We have lost count," replied the Templar captain. "We try to make them move on after a day or two, but most of them keep coming back. The Revered Mother is want to turn them away, saying it is against the teachings of Andraste to do so. But there is only so much food to go around and my scouts say that the Horde is advancing once more. It is only a matter of time before they reach Lothering."

"Hopefully the loot we retrieved from the bandits will make the Revered Mother's task easier," I said.

"Yes," replied the captain. "I believe it will. You will find her at the end of the hall, on the right. I would take you there myself, but I have to prepare Lothering's defences. The Maker be with you." With a smart salute, he turned on his heel and marched away.

We barely walked two steps before a man who was clearly not a refugee rushed up. "Alistair? Is that you?" he cried as he neared us.

"Donall?" asked Alistair in surprise and recognition.

"It is you!" exclaimed Donall. "By the Maker, I thought you were dead. Last I heard, you were at Ostagar and with those horrible reports coming in, I imagined the worst…"

"No, I'm not dead yet… No thanks to Teyrn Loghain."

"I heard about that too. Why would the Teyrn say such a thing?"

"Who knows? But with the help of Arl Eamon I'm sure we could…"

"The Arl is gravely ill," interrupted Donall.

"What?" exclaimed Alistair. "Last I saw him, he was fit as an ox!"

"It came as a shock to the whole of Redcliffe. One minute, the Arl was fine, and the next, confined to bed with the life draining out of him. We suspected poison at first, but no antidote worked."

"So now you're trying to find the Urn," surmised Alistair.

"The Urn?" gasped Leliana, turning pale.

"Yes," replied Donnal. "How did you know?"

"We found this on a dead knight outside of Lothering," I said, handing him the note. "He must have fallen afoul of bandits...or assassins."

"Ser Henric is dead?" gasped Donall, quickly scanning the letter. "And he knew Brother Genitivi's location? Oh, this is terrible. I thought we were finally making progress…"

"Sorry to interrupt, but are you sure that chasing a fable is the best way to help the Arl?" asked Morrigan. "Surely a competent physician could diagnose his condition."

"We tried," sighed Donall. "But the Arlessa is convinced that only by finding the Urn can the Arl be saved. Though I think there is dark magic involved…"

"What do you mean?" asked Alistair.

"Shortly before the Arl fell ill, he appointed a mage, Jowan, to tutor his son. The boy is remarkably gifted in magic, but the Arlessa did not want him to be sent away to the Circle. When the Arl succumbed to whatever is affecting him, Jowan was a primary suspect, but he claims he is innocent and does not know how to reverse illness."

"Is there any point in going to Redcliffe then?" asked Alistair. "We had hoped to talk to the Arl about challenging Loghain."

"You will most certainly be welcomed at Castle Redcliffe," replied Donall. "As to whether or not to the Arl is still alive by the time you get there, I cannot tell you. He was in a grave state when we left, and unless some miracle occurred in my absence, he is surely worse. Now, if you will excuse me, I must get back to my task. Thank you for informing me of Henric's fate. I hope better fortunes await you."

"Well, this complicates things a bit…" I muttered to Alistair, watching Donall disappear down a passageway. "You…you don't suppose Loghain is somehow behind this as well?"

"I would not be too surprised if he is," replied Alistair darkly. "The Teyrn is a conniving bastard who is not afraid to resort to underhand means to achieve his aims."

"What do you want to do?" I asked. The others inched closer as well, waiting to hear what Alistair would say.

"I…I'm not sure," he admitted. "I know time is of the essence, but I would like to pay a visit to Redcliffe. It's a two day journey at most from here. Even if I end up going by myself, I'd like to find out more about the Arl's illness if I can. He took me in when he didn't have to so I owe that to him at least."

"Then we will go with you," I replied. "I'm sure that with the four of us…" The Mabari interrupted with a bark. "Okay, five of us," I corrected with a smile, "can unearth something about what happened."

"Is that so?" asked Morrigan archly. "If you ask me, going to Redcliffe is a waste of time. You heard what that man said – the Arl is most likely dead. The best thing to do know is to strike at this Loghain directly while we still have an advantage."

"Yes, he certainly wouldn't see that coming!" said Alistair. "And it's not like he has the advantage of an army, and experience, and spies. He'll know that we're coming long before he get anywhere near Denerim."

"I agree," I responded. "Loghain has been ahead of us every step of the way so far. The mercenaries he sent here to kill us proves that. If we go to Redcliffe, he may think that we've given up on him, for a while at least, which will give us time to gather more information and plan our next move."

"The Circle of Magi and Orzammar are not too far from Redcliffe," added Alistair. "Both are relatively isolated places, so if we start enforcing the treaties there, we may be able to slip under Loghain's gaze for a while longer. Getting to Bercilian Forest will be more difficult as it takes us towards Denerim, but if we're careful, and use the back roads, we should be able to slip past any spies."

"That may be," conceded Morrigan. "But if we deal with Loghain first, then we are at liberty to enforce the treaties in relative safety. Surely even you see the benefit in that course of action."

"You've been awfully quiet," I remarked, turning to Leliana. "What do you think?"

"Me?" she asked in surprise. "You're asking for my input?" I nodded encouragingly. "Oh… well, in that case, I'm happy to go with you to Redcliffe. If everything that the knight said is true, then the light of Andraste will certainly be needed there."

"And I suppose that you will be providing this divine service yourself?" drawled Morrigan.

"Well…yes," Leliana replied, standing up a bit straighter. "I know that I am not a Sister anymore, but that does not mean that I cannot use my knowledge and training to provide comfort and solace to those in need of it."

"Looks like it's decided then," I surmised. "After we are done talking to the Revered Mother, we will head to Redcliffe." Ignoring Morrigan's scowl, I continued walking down the crowded hall towards the Revered Mother's chambers.

"Thanks," murmured Alistair in my ear. "You didn't have to…"

"Yes, I did," I responded. "We are in this together now, so what's important to you is also important to me. Plus, you said back at Flemeth's that Arl Eamon is a respected man. If we are able to somehow find a cure for his illness, any soldiers we gather will be more likely to stand behind him than a pair of lowly Grey Wardens, which will make leading an army easier."

"Hmm…" mused Alistair. "I hadn't thought of it that way. But you are right. Eamon will definitely know how to lead an army, and his involvement will give credence to our stand against Loghain."

"You, miss," said a Templar as we approached the Revered Mother's rooms. "What is your name?"

"Who do you mean?" I asked suspiciously. "There are three of us women here."

"You," he said, pointing at Morrigan. "The odd one."

"Odd one?" asked Morrigan, her hackles rising. But she quickly checked herself. "Well, sir, you would not be the first to think so. But I must ask you to avert your eyes for I will not deign you to stare too long."

"Best get used to it, miss. I'll be watching you and your little group. There will be no trouble here, not under my watch."

"We are not here to cause trouble," intercepted Alistair. "We would like to see the Revered Mother, if she will receive us. We have something for her."

"And what might that something be?" asked the Templar.

"Oh, do let them in, Ser Rogan," called the voice of an elderly woman. "I'm sure they mean no harm."

"Yes, m'am," conceded the Templar, grudgingly allowing us to pass.

"Don't mind him," said the Revered Mother once we had all filed in. "He can be a bit overbearing sometimes, but Ser Rogan means well." Laying her eyes on Leliana, she said, "Dear Sister. I am surprised to see you here. I thought you would have left Lothering by now."

"No, your Reverence," replied Leliana. "But I will be soon."

"I see you have made some new acquaintances. Travelling in a group is always more pleasant than doing so alone. May I ask who they are?"

"They are Grey Wardens, your Reverence."

"Grey Wardens? Oh dear…"

"I thought we agreed not to advertise our presence here," remarked Alistair.

"Apparently, she did not get that note," observed Morrigan.

"You put me in a difficult position," admitted the Revered Mother. "As you are no doubt aware, Teyrn Loghain has declared all Grey Wardens, and anyone who associates with to be outlaws."

"I understand, your Reverence," replied Leliana. "But the Maker has told me in a dream that my fate lies with this man and woman."

"I see," said the Revered Mother. "I only hope you will take care of yourself, my child."

"You need not worry about that, your Reverence," I said. "Leliana is quite skilful with the sword."

"Yes, I know," she replied. "Now, I understand that you have something urgent to discuss with me?"

"Yes," I said, stepping forward. "We dispatched that group of bandits outside of Lothering who had been profiting off of the refugees."

"Ah, yes. Captain Bryant told me about that. Thank you so much for your services. The Chantry's coffers are very low as a result of all these poor souls seeking refuge here, but I would nevertheless like to reward you for your bravery."

"Actually, we were hoping to give you the money they had collected. I'm sure you will put it to good use," I explained, handing her the bags.

"Oh, thank you," she said, her eyes misting over with tears. "You have no idea who much this will mean for those displaced families. Are you sure there is no way I can repay you?"

"If it would not be too much to ask," offered Alistair, "we would really appreciate it if you could keep our presence here a secret."

"I don't see why not," agreed the Revered Mother. "If you promise to lay low and not cause any trouble, I will not advertise that you have passed this way. Now, unless there is something else, I must get back to the refugees."

"Thank you for your help," I said sincerely.

"No, thank you," she said. "This money you have donated will go a long way in helping a lot of people. After all that you have done for this village, keeping quiet about your presence is the least I can do."

"Would the Revered Mother mind giving these Wardens the blessing of the Maker?" asked Leliana. "They have a long road ahead of them and…"

"Of course, my child," smiled the Revered Mother. "Please, kneel."

Leliana and Alistair immediately dropped down onto one knee. Morrigan and I were a bit more hesitant, but after a moment of thought, I bent my knee as well, and indicated for Morrigan to do the same. She furrowed her brow at me in annoyance, but complied.

"In Andraste's name," intoned the Revered Mother, "I call upon the Maker to watch over His children and creations. Watch over their path, O Maker and give them light in this darkness."

Closing my eyes, I felt a warm breeze ruffle my hair. Quickly opening my eyes, I looked around, but could find no open doors or windows through which the wind could have come from. Catching my eye, the Revered Mother smiled at me knowingly.

"Even though as an elf you may not believe in the Maker, know that he believes in you," she said gently.

Nodding, I got to my feet and made my way outside in a bit of a daze. Morrigan came quickly to my side and hissed, "What was the point of that? I did not take you for the bowing and scraping religious-type."

"Your assessment was correct," I hissed back. "But I did not think it would have been a good idea to offend her by refusing her god's blessing after she had agreed to help us keep a low profile."

"You are too sentimental for your own good," she remarked. "First the obsessive need to help the poor and downtrodden, and now this tiptoeing around people in case you offend them. I am surprised the world has not gobbled you up yet."

"If my inclinations offend you so much, then you are free to leave whenever you wish."

Morrigan looked taken aback. "And go back to living with my deranged mother? I think not."

"Is there a reason why our sulky friend is more sulky than usual?" asked Alistair, coming to walk next to me as Morrigan stalked away in a huff.

"She is offended that she had to receive a blessing from a god she doesn't believe in."

"Ah, that. I was surprised that she did not spontaneously combust during the ritual." I tried to stifle a giggle without much success. "I wouldn't be too worried about her," continued Alistair. "She is tough as nails, that one. She'll get over it."

"I…also sort of implied that she may be better off leaving…" I admitted. "I think she may be mad at me."

"Well, she didn't really want to come with us in the first place, so if anyone should be mad, it's you for having to put up with her for so long."

"What's that?" I asked suddenly as we neared the edge of the village. "Is that…a person inside?" Rushing up to the rusty cage, I saw that my suspicions were confirmed. Standing inside the horrid contraption was a man who was almost too tall to stand upright in the confined space. His clothes were ragged and stained, but his face was calm as he chanted in a strange language. As I ran up to him, his grey-gold eyes locked on me and I had the weird sensation that he was reading the very depths of my soul.

"You are not one of my captors," he said in the Common Tongue, though in a strange tilting accent.

"No, I am not. I just wanted to…"

"I have nothing to say that would amuse you, elf," he interrupted. "Leave me in peace."

"Peace? But you are a prisoner, put in here against your will, unless I am grossly mistaken."

"Yes, I am a prisoner."

"What did you do to deserve such treatment?" I pressed.

"The Revered Mother placed him in the cage," explained Leliana. "He slaughtered an entire family. Even the children."

"It is as she says," confirmed the prisoner. "I am Sten of the Beresaad – the vanguard – of the Qunari peoples. And I have been declared a murderer by your Chantry."

"And I am Feylin, of the Oak Clan of the Dalish. I am sorry to meet you under such unhappy circumstances."

"You mock me," growled Sten. "Or do you show manners I have not come to expect in this land? It matters little now, however. I am to die soon enough for my actions."

"Die?" I asked, confused. "Surely even prisoners get fed…"

"He has been trapped here as bait for the darkspawn," clarified Alistair. "It is an old and cruel practice, reserved as punishment only for the most serious of crimes."

"Oh…" I choked.

"This is a proud and powerful creature," observed Morrigan. "If you cannot see a use for him, I suggest releasing him for mercy's sake alone. But it appears that in our little group, my opinions are not valued…"

"Mercy?" asked Alistair. "I wouldn't have expected that from you…"

"I would also suggest that Alistair take his place in the cage. That way he need no longer plague us with his lack of intelligence."

"Now that's more expected…" said Alistair wryly.

"Morrigan is right," I declared. I caught my companion's brief look of surprise before it turned to smugness. "This is unjustifiable. I am going back to the village and demand that they release you."

"Only the Revered Mother has the power to grant such clemency," said Leliana. "But I agree with you also. It seems cruel to abandon such a noble creature to such a horrid fate."

"I suggest you leave me to my fate," said Sten. "As you have said, it is not for you to decide."

"Why are you so complacent?" I cried. "Why are so you willing to die?" As someone who had seen more death and suffering in a few short days than most people see in a lifetime, and had come close to it more than once, I could not understand how this prisoner could so idly accept his fate.

"Death will be my atonement," Sten replied stoically.

"If you are so concerned about redemption, there are other ways to expiate your crime, assuming that you have been justly accused in the first place!"

"Perhaps. What does your wisdom say is equal to my crime?"

"We are Grey Wardens," I explained. "We are tasked as an order to defend the land against the Blight. We are in the process of building an army to make a stand against the Horde and to challenge a man by the name of Teyrn Loghain who has murdered King Cailan and is using the chaos caused by the darkspawn to take control of Ferelden. You said you were a vanguard among your people – a warrior. You could use your skills as a fighter to help us defend the land and end the Blight."

"Grey Wardens?" asked Sten, betraying a hint of surprise. "Your order is known among my people for their strength and skill in battle. Though I would never have taken you to be one of them…"

"Would you join us, then, if I can secure your release?" I pressed.

"Joining your cause is as likely to bring about my death as waiting here."

"I think that's as much of an answer as we're ever going to get out of him," remarked Alistair. "I know you like helping people," he said as I began to march back towards the Chantry, "but are you sure it's a good idea to bring a murderer along?"

"He never actually admitted to the crime," I replied. "All he said was that he had been declared to be a murderer. I think he was falsely accused…just for being different."

"Fine. But if he knifes us in our sleep, I get the right to say 'I told you so'."

Reaching the Chantry, I stalked past the guards before they had a chance to challenge us. As I burst into her room, the Revered Mother looked up in surprise at our unexpected arrival. "Yes?" she queried warily. "What can I do for you now?"

"I have just found out that you have imprisoned a Qunari as bait for the darkspawn."

"That is correct. He murdered an entire farmhold, eight people in total, while they slept in their beds. Only the youngest child hid long enough to survive. He told us that his father had taken the Qunari in after finding him gravely wounded in one of the fields. The family nursed him back to health and that kindness was repaid with cold-blooded murder. The convention would have been to execute him, but the Maker forbids his clergy from spilling blood."

"So you seek to extricate yourself from sin by leaving him to be killed by the darkspawn?" I asked incredulously.

"His fate is now in the hands of the Maker," she replied with finality. "Why does he interest you so much, anyway?"

"Are you sure he was the one who killed the family?" I pressed.

"Yes. He was found by the Bann standing amidst the carnage. He did not resist his arrest and confessed quite readily, though he did not give a reason for his actions. Now, will you tell me why you are suddenly so interested in him?"

"I want you to release him. As a Grey Warden, I invoke the right of conscription so that he may join me in our fight against the Blight." I hoped that sounded official enough.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot help you. The Qunari may seem docile in his cage, but do not be fooled. Even the seasoned soldiers who arrested him were sickened by the carnage he wrought. He is dangerous and I will not allow him to once again become a threat to innocent people."

"But if you release him into my custody, he will no longer be of your concern. We are leaving Lothering, so the people here will be in no danger."

"Yes, but what about the people at your next destination? Can you vouch for their safety when you do not even know the man? And what about your safety? He turned on those who helped him once; what's to say he will not do it again?"

"Revered Mother, if I may interject," said Leliana, stepping forward. "These are…unusual times. While the Qunari may be dangerous, with us I know he can do good to compensate for the evil he has committed. And these are Grey Wardens after all – if anyone can control him, they can."

"I suppose you are right, my child," sighed the Revered Mother. "These are desperate times indeed and we may all be dead soon enough anyway. Here," she said, handing me a worn key. "This will secure his release."

"Thank you," I replied, surprised by her sudden change of attitude.

"I only hope you know what you are doing," she sighed wearily. "May the Maker watch over you."

"Your trust will not be misplaced, your Reverence," added Leliana.

"How did you do that?" I whispered to Leliana as we exited the Chantry once more. "How did you get her to change her mind so quickly?"

Leliana blushed. "Oh, it's nothing really. Being a Sister, I just learned how to phrase requests in a way that sounded acceptable to her Reverence."

"I see," I said slowly, though my curiosity had been piqued. I resolved to find out why chirpy girl was so secretive about her remarkable talents.

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