The Pilgrim's Path had been clear of threats for over six months now.
"I've kept the economy from collapsing. I've eliminated the most influential and bloodthirsty of my foes. Amaranthine prospers, but the Wardens are limping along like a sick nug, and everyone knows it but are too kind to say anything!"
Lestrade and Garevel listened to Natia, and watched her pace in a tight circle. She wore the evening like a gown, heavy and dark with shadows.
"Has anyone heard from Nathaniel?" she paused to ask.
"No, ser," Garevel said. "Nothing."
Natia stifled a sigh. "If he's dead, I'll kill him," she muttered under her breath. She was down to three Wardens, including herself, now that Sigrun had gone back to the Deep Roads and Anders faffed off to wherever he went. Natia swore to herself that if she ever saw that smarmy bastard's face again, she'd punch it so hard that the Fade would feel it. And then she'd tell him it was a damned fool move to go off and kill a templar spy instead of coming to her for help.
Everyone else was dead. Of course, it was no trouble keeping seven people and a dog alive during a sodding Blight, but ever since she arrived in Amaranthine, it seemed the luck of a duster began following her again.
Pilgrim's Path was no longer clear, since a series of darkspawn attacks. Reports flooded in from many other regions, each complaining of darkspawn treachery. House Helmi requested aid for Kal'Hirol. Nathaniel was still out in the field, though he should have returned three days ago. Oghren was drinking himself into an early death, though she wasn't sure he hadn't been doing that the whole time. And here Natia was, tired, alone, and wishing for another Blight, since it was something that actually brought be people together. Alistair was right about a few things on occasion.
"You are aware that no matter what their skill levels are, we will allow anyone who wishes to undergo the Joining, correct?" Natia asked.
"Are you sure? Normally—" Lestrade began to say.
"There is nothing normal about our situation. For too long have the Wardens been absent from Ferelden, and for too long have the darkspawn held this country in thrall, despite the fact that the archdemon died a year ago," she snapped.
"Yes, Commander," he replied.
"When should I begin preparing the ritual?" Garevel asked.
"Have it ready for tomorrow evening, please," Natia said, and began pacing again. "I'd rather watch them die sooner than later."
