Chapter 13

Remains

He looked down upon the dead girl, his heart beating rapidly, Maker this should not have happened, he should have been here.

Knight-Lieutenant Maurevar Carver could do nothing for the poor girl. The light had faded from her eyes even before he had got here. Not even the most skilled of healers could save her now. This death had not been justice, it had been vengeance, and he had a good idea which blonde haired, blue-eyed bitch had been responsible.

I won't let her get away with this. I will bring this to the knight-Commander himself.

A week ago they had received reports of an escape mage from the circle in Starkhaven. A young circle scholar had apparently manipulated a young chantry sister working in the circle to destroy his phylactery; the two had then vanished without a trace. The Knight-Commander in Starkhaven had advised using extreme caution in dealing with this one. He was considered to be one of their circles most skilled practitioners of the entropic arts. It was not blood magic per se, but it fell into a very gray area. The girl herself had been a member of the wealthy DuPuis family of Kirkwall. If the mage had harmed her, they wanted to know, and would want the mage dealt with if he had.

This made the situation a volatile one. The Templar order was being pressured from all sides to intervene in this. If a mage murdered a wealthy nobleman's daughter, then he might take his complaints to the Viscount personally. The Threnholds were already starting to grow paranoid about the Templar order; this would likely give the Viscount the excuse he needed to act against them.

They needed to deal with this quickly and quietly.

Then they had got a break.

Yesterday, the mage's father had received word from his son claiming he was living in Kirkwall, and was in need of money. The father a wealthy Orlesian trader had promptly contacted the chantry. He wished for his young son to be returned to the circle unharmed.

Maurevar had been gone at the time; otherwise the task of retrieving this escapee would likely have fallen to him. Since he had not been there, the Knight Commander had asked for volunteers to deal with this one.

One knight had gladly taken up this call.

They had set a trap, money was left where the mage had specified, and when the mage had gone to retrieve it, he had been followed.

The boy had figured that with his phylactery destroyed he had nothing to fear from the Templars. He had been wrong.

Ser Meredith along with several of her cronies had followed the mage to a small farm outside of Kirkwall. It was there, that they had learned something shocking, the mage had not manipulated the girl through magic, apparently the two had fallen in love, and she helped him escape so they could be together.

Meredith's reaction to such a thing was typical of her. Why use an open palm when a fist is far more satisfying. In her eyes, the girl was a traitor, undeserving of trial, or appeal. She had dealt with her as she saw fit.

Ser Maurevar had only just returned to the Gallows when he had learned of this. He had been out with a group of young recruits teaching them the ins and outs of fair Kirkwall. When he learned of Meredith's mission, he had pursued her immediately. One of the recruits, a young red-haired knight named Thrask followed him.

They arrived to find the young mage beaten and in irons. Karras and Alrik had the boy secured for his trip back to the Gallows. When the Lieutenant had inquired about the welfare of the mage's companion, the two Templars had chuckled and motioned inside of the small farmstead.

It was here that Ser Mori had found the body.

The former sister had been a beautiful girl in life. Long slender hands, chestnut-brown hair, and bright blue eyes, Mori could not shake the feeling he had seen the girl before. Except for the lighter color of her hair she was a dead ringer for young Leandra Amell.

Perhaps the term dead ringer was not appropriate then. It seemed ghoulish somehow.

He would make a point not to tell Mal about this, it would likely scare him.

After all, it sort of scared Ser Mori.

"Ser Carver! Ser Carver!"

The lieutenant turned to find young Thrask his eyes wide with fear.

"On your time son," Mori had soothed, "what is the matter?"

"She is going to kill him Messere," the boy panted, "you have to stop her."

Shit.

He did not have to ask which "her" the young man was referring to, frankly he was not surprised.

IOI

"Kill it Stannard! Go ahead do it!"

Meredith shook her head, the Templar egging her on was Ser Nicolette, a ferret faced girl with stringy black hair. Word around the Gallows was that she was the illegitimate daughter of the Viscount; she certainly had the looks, not to mention her Father's thirst for blood.

She did not understand.

This was never about feeding blood lust; it was the Maker's justice, his judgment. Karras had told her the girl might be useful to her plans, but the more Meredith thought about it the less and less she liked the idea.

She was too much like her dear Perrin.

The mage lay helpless in front of her, her blade pressed to his throat. The creature disgusted her. He had not only fled the circle, but he had corrupted an innocent girl in the process. The mage was a living example of why magic could not be tolerated; it destroyed innocence simply by existing.

Just like it destroyed Amelia.

The mage blubbered weakly, "Where is she?" he asked, "Where is my wife?"

Meredith sneered.

"We sent that little traitor to the Maker's side." Nicolette crowed, "don't worry you will be seeing her soon."

Meredith cursed, the girl needed to learn to keep her mouth shut.

The shock and horror on the dark-haired mage's face was all-consuming. Shock, fury, and disbelief warred there. Meredith found herself hoping the creature would give himself to the demons in that moment. It would give her an excuse to do her duty.

The Maker's justice cannot be denied.

"Ser Meredith stand down."

She fought down a curse, of all the knight-lieutenants why did it have to be Carver. The stupid bastard would never accept what had to be done. He was popular in the Gallows; part of her wished that he would side with her. His voice would lend credence to what she had to do.

He would just have to be dealt with when the time came.

"You are just in time Knight-Lieutenant;" she said professionally, "this mage is resisting being taken back to the Gallows. I was just about to deal with the matter."

"I'd say you have done enough Stannard," Carver growled.

She looked at him her expression almost hurt, "I am only doing my duty Ser Maurevar."

Mori's eyes narrowed dangerously, "And how was killing that girl doing your duty."

The mage sobbed, his face buried in his bound hands.

"She tried to protect this…creature." Meredith said gesturing at the broken young mage, "and even if she did not, she aided a mage in escaping from the Templars. Her fate was sealed the moment she did that."

"She should have been brought before the Knight-Commander."

"And released unpunished to her noble father?" Meredith scoffed.

"Her fate was not yours to decide Stannard."

Of course it was, only I understand the dangers of magic. If I don't act then who will?

"And who are you to decide that Lieutenant!" Nicolette sneered.

"One more crack like that and I will have your lyrium ration cut Nicolette!"

The young Templar was silent, but the burning hate in her eyes reminded Meredith so much of dear Perrin. Perhaps there was a way that the woman could aid in her plans. It would just have to be handled delicately.

Mori glared at his fellows, there was no place for barbarism in the Templar Order. He turned his attention to the wounded mage. The man's sobs had all but quieted; his dark eyes had a far off look. He seemed to be looking passed Ser Mori, at something farther away, something only he could see.

It was a look that was kind of creeping the Lieutenant out.

He is in shock, Mori thought, nothing more.

"Ser Meredith," he ordered, "gather the men. We are returning this mage to the Gallows."

"Returning!" Meredith spat, "Lieutenant this mage corrupted an innocent girl, he needs to be tested for blood magic, and if guilty he should be executed!"

"That is for the Knight-Commander to decide Meredith, and that is not you."

Not yet Lieutenant.

Meredith was tempted to act, Maurevar could die here, Thrask too, they could say the mage had gotten loose.

Not yet, Maurevar may yet be useful. His death here would only raise questions. Later, Later, Don't be weak.

Meredith sighed, justice denied, again.

"As you say Lieutenant," Meredith saluting her superior.

Mori watched her for signs of insubordination, proving Stannard had gone overboard here required evidence, and he doubted Alrik, Karras, and Nicolette would be very forthcoming.

I will just have to watch her more closely, but first your duty takes precedence Ser Mori thought.

He turned to the young mage; the poor man had just lost his wife, Maurevar should say something.

"Serah Quentin," he said quietly, "I am sorry for your loss, but you should not have run in the first place. Is there anything I can do for you, to see to any arrangements for you, for her?"

The boy Quentin said nothing. He just sat there, staring off into the distance. Ser Maurevar hoped that one of the healers in the Gallows could help the disturbed young man.

If only they could help Meredith too, he thought.

The trip back to the gallows was a quiet one. Quentin offered them no resistance. He just sat there, murmuring to himself.

Ser Morivar caught only a few of these words.

"She is not really gone."

"She isn't really."

"I can have her back."

"I'll see you soon love."

"We will be together again soon."

Maurevar shook his head sadly, that poor man.

Meredith rode beside him, sulking quietly. He still intended to talk to Guylian about this. He doubted he would do anything serious to Stannard, but she had to learn discipline, discipline and compassion.

He thought about what he would tell the Viscount? The man would be furious over the death of the girl. He thought about blaming Stannard, but decided against it.

He had not arrived in time, it was his responsibility.

He hoped that the healers either in Kirkwall or Starkhaven could help poor Quentin. The loss of a wife so violently could have dire consequences.

He hoped that the mage would find a peace.

Any kind.