Chapter Eleven

Luke's back sported a brand new sword when they left Orzammar. The boy kept reaching over his shoulder to stroke the hilt and drew the blade at every opportunity to admire the heft and shine of it. Aedan had decided to treat him to an early birthday present and the sheer joy on Luke's face as he admired his new sword made the purchase worth more than its weight in gold.

Two days of travel lay behind them and with any luck only one day before them. Aedan could not conceal his eagerness to return to Denerim. He worried constantly about Alistair, Brenna and of course, Leliana. Oghren did his best to reassure him that between his soldiers and Runir, Alistair was in secure company.

Had Alistair sent Zevran to Tevinter and if so, what had the former assassin found? Could he thwart the plot against Alistair? Unconsciously he quickened his stride.

"Warden!" Oghren panted ad he ran up beside him and rapped a gauntleted fist against his arm. "Can we take a break? You're wearing out these dwarven legs."

Aedan looked over his shoulder and saw that once again he'd outpaced his companions. Darat lagged behind Oghren and even Luke showed signs of fatigue.

"We'll be at the message post in half an hour, we'll stop there."

With a nod Oghren fell back and Aedan resumed his stride, letting his mind wander once more. He had been trying to compose a suitable response to the anger he expected from Leliana. Rationally he knew she could not fault him for Luke's actions, but despite enjoying the boy's company he had also second guessed his decision to take him to Orzammar. Perhaps he should have sent him back to Denerim with Runir? Would Leliana understand his desire to keep Luke close?

Squaring his shoulders he decided it would be alright. So long as he brought Luke home safe and sound, Leliana would forgive him. She was level headed and she trusted him. He knew that, just as he trusted her.

He looked up and caught site of the familiar cairn of stones that marked the message post. A booted foot protruded from behind the short pile of rock. Aedan quickened his step again to a chorus of grunts and cries from the two dwarves.

The foot moved and Aedan broke into a run, rounding the cairn of stones just as one of his wardens stood up. Aedan stopped short, chest rising and falling with panted breath. "Erald?"

"Commander! Thank the Maker you are here! Come, we are camped a ways away. Philippe asked me to wait by the road for you."

The warden limped toward him and crossed his arms in salute. Aedan caught his shoulder and steadied him. "Maker, what happened to you?"

"It's bad, Commander, those things." Erald shivered and shook his head. "Best let Philippe tell you all at once."

Luke, Oghren and Darat had caught up to them. Luke's face lifted at the sight of the familiar warden and then clouded at the man's obviously injured state.

Aedan offered his arm as support and the small group followed Erald off the road and into the woods. They walked for close to an hour before coming to the warden's camp. No jovial gathering greeted them this time. The wardens reclined about the small fire were a tired and dispirited looking group.

Philippe pushed himself to his feet and walked slowly over to greet him and Aedan reached out to lay a hand on his second's shoulder. "Philippe."

Philippe looked past him, his expression curious and Aedan remembered he had a new recruit. He stepped aside and turned, indicating that Darat should come forward.

He gestured the group. "This is Darat, Champion of the Proving. He is our newest recruit. Darat, these are Ferelden's wardens."

Aedan started with his second. "This is Philippe, my second." Then he continued around the campfire, indicating each warden in turn. "Taren, Kayley, Marin and Erald. Patrols usually comprise six wardens, but Runir was sent to Denerim." Aedan's eyes alighted on Luke and they exchanged a rueful smile.

Darat took Philippe's offered arm and then moved around the circle of wardens, receiving grins and shoulder thumps by way of welcome.

Aedan returned his attention to Philippe. "Why are you camped so far from the road?"

"To discourage visitors, Commander. I pray all travelers stay upon the road this night and do not venture toward this forsaken place."

Despite the warmth of the fire, coldness began to spread throughout Aedan's body as he settled down beside Philippe. He turned to his second. "You are talking about the village you were investigating? Tell me everything."

"They are all tainted, Commander, each and every one of them. The village is half a day from here. As we approached one of them came to greet us."

"Greet you?" Oghren's bushy brows nearly met his hairline.

Philippe shuddered visibly before he continued. "Yes. It, he, was quite civil…at first. They wanted to be left in peace. They wanted no contact with the outside. Maker, Commander, he was a ghoul, so tainted his skin was all but black and those eyes! Yet he still spoke as a man."

Aedan's brows rose. He thought of Hespith and Ruck and his stomach cramped. "What did you do?"

Philippe shook his head wearily. "He was the only one in the village with a lick of sense, Commander. We made camp not far away that night." Philippe balled up his fist and thumped the ground. "So foolish, I thought if they had sent someone to parlay they would be unlikely to attack us outright. I was wrong."

The older warden glanced across the fire at Taren and nodded in the mage's direction. "If not for Taren we may all have perished that night. They outnumbered us three to one. They tried to drag Erald away with them! We killed them all and then he came back, the civil one, and he implored us to stop killing his people, but Aedan, they were mindless!"

Philippe always called him by name when he was upset. Aedan did not mind, he tended to be informal with his wardens, but now it scared him. He'd never seen his second so shaken, so beaten down. He glanced around the fire at the rest of his wardens, they all looked haunted. He looked to Oghren and Darat and then finally his eyes rested upon Luke. He needed to get the boy away from here as soon as possible.

He turned back to Philippe and gestured for the man to continue.

"I sent Kayley in to investigate and she reported the village was small. It seemed likely we had killed most of them that night. But the traps, so many traps. She worked nearly all day on securing a path we might take in. Most of the traps were around one building. We gained entrance…"

Philippe left off here and shuddered again. Erald spoke up then. Normally a quiet man his voice now had not trouble filling the silence that hung over the campfire. "It was the women and a child, Commander."

Oghren growled then, standing up and walking toward the surrounding trees he leaned against one. Aedan swallowed and looked back toward Philippe. He reached out a hand, tentatively touched the senior warden's shoulder.

Philippe looked up, his eyes clouded with anguish. "I couldn't do it, Aedan. They are still there, tainted, most of them already ghouls. More of the men came up behind us; we battled our way out and moved our camp to here. They have not followed."

Aedan's head began to spin. Women and a child? He had to delay his return to Denerim to slaughter tainted women? His stomach roiled and he put his hands to his cheeks and took a deep breath. He turned his head sideways. Philippe regarded him with an expression that called for reproach. Aedan immediately sought to comfort the man. "Philippe, I cannot fault your hesitation."

Relief flared briefly in the man's eyes only to be replaced by resignation. Aedan felt it too and he cursed his duty, not for the first time.

"When will the wardens be ready to go back? We must finish this."

Philippe glanced around the campfire and then at the sky. "Let us see if we can't get a full night of rest and try for midday tomorrow. Perhaps the sun at our backs will firm our resolve."

Aedan nodded, it was as good a plan as any. Philippe inclined his head toward Darat.

"You'll want to put him through the Joining tonight, Commander, we dare not approach that village otherwise."

Luke was sitting next to Darat and Aedan's eyes rested upon his son. He could not take Luke with them tomorrow. He turned back to Philippe, but his second had already anticipated his question.

"Erald will stay here with Luke, his leg was badly injured by one of those traps. Taren has done his best, but the bones…"

He didn't need to say more. Aedan had broken both his legs and despite the healing he'd received at the time, they had bothered him for weeks afterwards. He'd not even been able to walk properly for two days. He nodded toward Erald and then turned to Oghren.

"Oghren, would you stay here with Erald and Luke. Please?"

He thought for a moment that Oghren might refuse him and they held one another's gaze for a while. Then the dwarf simply nodded and turned away.

The ritual was hastily prepared and Darat survived the tainted cup. Aedan sat first watch, encouraging his wardens to rest. He tried not to let his mind wander, he did not want to think about what lay ahead of him. He thought of his beloved wife. Drawing his knees up, he wrapped his arms about them and rested his chin between them. He thought of Leliana and gathered his strength and resolve from their bond. She would be waiting for him. He would make it back to Denerim and to his love's side. She would hold him and soothe him and the world would be a good and fair place again.

The next morning Aedan took a few moments alone with Luke. The boy sensed his somber mood and did not protest when Aedan drew him into a close embrace. He didn't flinch as Aedan took his face between his hands and pressed his lips to his forehead.

"Luke." Aedan hesitated, not sure what to say. "Son, you must stay here. I…I will be back. If something should happen, if someone comes, run, Luke, promise me you will run. Go to the road."

Luke nodded soberly. His shoulders were squared and his face titled upward in a show of bravery, but he could not hide the fear in his eyes. He said in a low tone, "I will, Aedan. Maker watch over you."

"Maker watch over us all."

The sun crested the trees as they reached the outskirts of the village. It appeared deserted. Kayley slipped into shadow and approached the small hall that stood at its centre. Aedan heard the occasional grating click as she disarmed the traps at the stairs to the building and then she appeared before them once again and offered a short nod.

They walked slowly toward the building weapons drawn and at the ready. The only sound to be heard was the gentle creak of leather, the soft clank of metal and their footfalls. Aedan realized he was holding his breath and he let it out with a sharp sigh. Two other wardens copied him.

The door was barricaded and locked and after they cleared the debris Kayley set to work on the locks. The heavy wood creaked as they swung open and Aedan rocked back. The smell, oh Maker, the smell. He heard a gagging sound beside him but did not dare turn his head. Another warden took a deep, shuddering breath. All the windows were shuttered and the hall was dimly lit by a lone lantern. The floor was littered with bodies, and at first glance Aedan thought had been granted a reprieve. They looked dead. The hall was full of dead, discoloured bodies. Then one moved, rolled over in sleep and Aedan felt the bile rising in the back of his throat. A child whimpered and sat up, rubbing its face, and the lantern caught the silvered glow of those eyes, the tainted eyes.

Aedan wanted to run, he wanted to turn and run. He understood Philippe's predicament. Already they had stood here too long, stunned by the sight before them. He shook his head, trying to throw off his horror and turned toward his wardens. The relief at finding them all there and with no men at their backs was palpable. He turned his head back toward the room and with a choked voice said, "Let us be done with this."

Those nearest the door were ghouls. Aedan swept his blade down and across the first throat and before he lost his resolve he dispatched the second. The child began to cry and the rest of the bodies stirred. Those most tainted were the easiest to kill. They were mindless and ran at them and the wardens raised their weapons in defense first, offense second. But as they worked their way through the room it became harder and harder for Aedan to lift his blade. One woman looked at him with those greyed eyes and cursed him, her blistered hands reaching toward him as he swung his blade at her, trying for a single strike. He missed and had to chop at her again.

Finally only two women and the small child remained. They huddled at the far corner of the room. The women were the least tainted of those they had encountered and one of them had her hands wrapped protectively about the child. They both still had their hair and their skin was blotched rather than thickened and dark. The woman holding the child spoke. "Wait, please, you have to stop him. He's mad."

The wardens had dropped back and stood in a loose semicircle about them.

Aedan faltered, his weapons dropping down a little. "Who, the village leader? Where is he?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. He hasn't been to see us since last night." She dropped her head and her shoulders slumped and when she looked up again, her eyes were closed and her lips moved in prayer. When her eyes opened again she said, "Before he gets back, end this torture, please."

Aedan's heart twisted. She had asked him to kill her and she had pushed the child forward. His blades dropped lower as he howled inside. She had asked him to kill her. This was wrong, so wrong! He did not glance at his wardens, he kept his eyes forward. He sank to his knees and set his sword on the floor and beckoned the child forward. The woman let go of its shoulders and the child cried, its blackened face turning back toward her. The child no longer had hair and was young enough that Aedan could not tell it a girl from a boy.

The woman pushed the child toward him and Aedan felt the small bony shoulders beneath his hands. His vision blurred and his heart screamed at him to stop. He held the body against him and drew the head back and before he could take a breath he slit the child's throat. As the dropped the body, he hunched forward, overcome with grief and despair.

A strangled cry slipped through the ringing in his ears. "No!"

A blow landed on the back of his head dropping him to his hands and knees. A flurry of sounds followed. Two more bodies dropped into view. It was done, the two women were dead.

Philippe helped Aedan to his feet and the two men leaned upon each other a moment. Then Aedan strode from the room without looking back. He leaned against the outer wall and gasped in fresh air. Finally he straightened and said to Taren, "Burn this place. Burn it to the ground."

He stepped from the door with shaky legs and then froze. A high pitched wail drifted from the open doors. He shivered from head to foot, all his hair standing on edge. A Shriek? Hefting his blades he spun and ran back into the building but saw nothing. The wail came again. It sounded like...an infant?

The wardens had followed him in and Kayley immediately ran to a dark corner and began scrabbling at the floor. She lifted a trapdoor and disappeared down the dark hole. When she emerged she was carrying a basket. The wailing came again and Aedan looked inside. It was a baby, a pink cheeked, rounded and healthy looking. It opened its mouth and cried lustily.

Kayley looked up, her eyes full of fear. "We don't have to kill it, do we?"

Aedan's knees trembled and he shook his head from side to side. "Unwrap it, check it's body, it doesn't look tainted." He prayed to the Maker as Kayley inspected the babe. He could not kill a baby, could he?

"Give me the baby."

Aedan spun at the new voice. The leader of the village stood in the doorway. There was no doubting either his authority or the extent of his taint. How was this man sane enough to stand erect, let alone talk? He was holding a slight figure before him, one gnarled hand resting upon a shoulder. The other held a dagger at the throat. The sunlight was behind him and Aedan could not make out who it was until the head lifted and the light of the dim lantern caught a familiar face. The world began to spin away from him and Aedan staggered.

He gestured to Kayley. "Give him the baby."

Philippe said in a low tone, "Commander?"

"I said give him the baby!" Aedan shouted.

Kayley's voice was so quiet. "But…"

"Maker help me, he's holding my son!" Aedan spun and wrenched infant from Kayley's hands. The baby screwed up its face and bawled at him.

Philippe had stepped forward enough to see the shadowed figure being held in front of the tainted man in the doorway and a single word fell from his lips. "Luke."

Aedan moved around the frozen warden and approached the village leader.

"Let my son go." He did not recognise his own voice. He sounded like a wounded animal, his tone a choked snarl.

Suddenly the tainted man jerked forward and blood spurted from his neck. It splashed over the side of Luke's face and the boy howled at the sting of it, closing his eyes and struggling to wrench himself free. The dagger drew a dark line across his throat and the gnarled claws curled into his shoulder, pricking through his leather armour and sticking there. The boy shrieked and pulled, tearing his shoulder free, strips of leather and skin pulling from away.

Aedan threw the baby at Kayley and ran to Luke's side. He stepped over his discarded weapons and grappled with the man, pulling the dagger away from Luke' throat first. He eased the boy away from the crumpling figure and then turning, aimed a kick for the man's belt, casting him backwards through the door. The man landed flat on his back and a further spray of black blood flew upwards as the arrow drove through his neck, quivering as it stopped.

Erald stood behind him, his bow cocked, another arrow notched. He lowered the bow, staggered and dropped to his knees. His armour gaped where it had been torn by weapons and claws and his face was barely recognizable beneath the coating of blood. Marin leapt over the still twitching body of the tainted man and knelt by Erald's side. Taren followed soon after.

The mage dropped down to the ground and began chanting, his voice reaching a fevered pitch before he began to sway. Marin reached out a hand to steady his shoulder and Taren kept on. When he finally looked up, his eyes were dull and his face looked as though he may never smile again.

"I am too late." He fell over Erald and his shoulders shook. They had only been comrades, nothing more, but already the events of this day had been trying enough. Aedan pulled his gauntlets from his hands and knelt beside Luke. Darat had been holding him and relinquished his grasp, standing and stepping aside. The boy had stopped shrieking and had started to moan instead. Aedan smoothed the hair back from his face and his hand came away sticky with blood. Black, tainted blood. The smell, the odor of taint, rose from his fingers and Aedan retched. He began wiping the fluid from his son's face frantically.

Luke shuddered and said, "Aedan, I can feel it crawling under my skin. It hurts."

Aedan glanced down and saw that the small line around his neck where the dagger had scored the skin was puckering and swelling. The blood, the tainted blood had seeped into the wound. His shoulder was a chewed looking mess. Aedan scanned the rest of his body and saw that he had suffered many wounds. Scores of cuts and punctures marked his exposed skin, many of them blackened with a dried crust of blood and the thicker, fouler taint. Aedan shook the boy's shoulders and then pulled him to his chest, wrapping his arms around him and sobbed into his sticky and blackened hair.

"No, Luke, no! Why didn't you run? Oh, Maker no…" Where was Oghren? "Oghren," he gasped.

"I think he's dead. He killed so many of them but they kept coming. Aedan, I'm sorry. Am I going to die?" Tears spilled across Luke's cheeks and his voice was so quiet, his tone so scared, it broke Aedan's heart.

Aedan shook his head, his own tears flying from his cheeks and growled, "No." But inside he felt the lie of his words. The taint had entered Luke's blood. It was only a matter of time before the boy's skin blackened and blistered, before his eyes began to take on that silvered sheen.

"Taren!" Aedan called to the mage and Taren clambered to his feet, looking over to him. He walked slowly over and dropped to his knees in front of Luke. He whispered and channeled healing magic at the wound on the boy's throat, the tear in his shoulder and the myriad of cuts and bruises that decorated his arms and legs.

A hand dropped to Aedan's shoulder and he looked up into Philippe's grave face. He turned back to Taren and asked, "Is it too late? Taren, please tell me it's not too late…"

Taren spoke no words and his eyes did not lift from the floor in front of him. Aedan had his answer.

He clambered to his feet and staggered outside into the sunlight and dropped to his knees beside the body of the tainted man. He lifted his fists and he pounded them on the dead chest again and again, uttering senseless cries of grief and despair. He knew his control, the focus he had worked on so hard over the past year, was slipping. He could feel it ebbing away and he didn't care. He let it go. He welcomed the rage. He would tear this body apart with his bare hands.

Something pulled at his shoulders, gently at first and when he resisted, more roughly. A voice thundered in his ear. "Aedan, stop!"

Philippe knelt beside him. "Aedan," he said more gently. "Stop."

He looked at his second and grappled for his will once more. His chest heaved and his ears buzzed. Philippe's lips were moving again and he couldn't hear the words. He shook his and Philippe spoke again.

"There may be a way. Aedan, can you hear me? There may be something we can do for Luke."

Aedan searched Philippe's eyes. What had he just said? "What, Philippe, how? Tell me…"

"The ritual, Aedan. We make Luke a Grey Warden."