Decisions and Discoveries

Teagan had managed to rally a few of the banns still loyal to Eamon and had a small force gathered to keep Redcliffe surrounded. A couple of the banns balked at Teagan assuming the arling without a Landsmeet, but they weren't willing to put their necks on the line. So, they begrudgingly allowed Teagan to head up Ferelden's defense in the southwest. Gaspard and his men could not make a move to get out of the castle without Teagan's men knowing about it. And, so far, they hadn't tried. Redcliffe Castle had provisions for months, however, so Teagan knew this could be a long wait.

The men were spread pretty thin, but all the escape tunnel exits were covered by archers and traps with a solid network of runners between all the posts.

Now, Teagan found he had little to do but strategize with the nobility ad nauseam, sit and wait.

"Your Grace, perhaps you should travel to Denerim and make your pleas to Loghain directly." Of course, Bann Ceorlic would say that. Teagan didn't know why the man was even present. He only brought a few guards with him and left the bulk of his soldiers standing guard around his Lothering estate … to prevent looters, of all things. Teagan couldn't imagine that there was much left of the hold's manor and what was left was tainted and unusable.

Before he opened his mouth to speak, Teagan thought to himself, No doubt those guards would turn up here, blightsick, and demanding aid soon enough. Too bad the old bastard didn't stay with them. Teagan wondered if anyone would actually object if he just ran the old man through right now. "And, do what? Leave you in charge, Ceorlic? I'd rather leave Gaspard in charge of this outpost." He knew that was a bit harsh, but he was getting fed up with the man's tiresome machinations.

"You have some nerve, boy! No one's elected you to this post yet and I, for one, will be a voice against you!" With that rather obvious announcement, he turned and motioned for his men to pack up. They were leaving for Denerim.

Bann Calley of Rondesfare snickered. "Let Loghain deal with him." Calley was a small landholder just north of where they had been camping. There was a bridge over a narrow river between southern Lake Calenhad and Guerrin Lagoon, a lake that had been the cause of many disputes over the centuries. When Ceorlic's family was stronger, the lagoon was called "Ceorlic Lake" … until the Guerrin family damned up the connecting river and the lake dried up. Eventually, Ceorlic's power fell and the Guerrins took hold again. They released the dam, but the lake was never really the same. In the dry interim, the tall grasses and willowy trees grew strong, giving the lake a more mysterious atmosphere … so the Guerrin head at the time renamed it Guerrin Lagoon, and the name held for centuries. It didn't hurt that there hadn't been a strong Ceorlic to emerge in all that time, present descendent included.

His son, however, was a different story … charismatic, handsome, diplomatic. Ceorlic's son was commanding the group watching the mountain tunnel exit. "I wish he would just turn things over to his son Elard." Teagan threw down the report he'd been reading before the old man interrupted the meeting he'd been having with some of the banns. He looked to Calley. "I don't know why he even showed up since he's pledged to Gwaren now."

"He showed up to take over, Teagan … although I feel like I'm stating the obvious." Bann Barella Frankiel of Bandesward was a beautiful older woman with a beautiful daughter, Gwenisa. Her lands were north of Rainesfere on the western side of Lake Calenhad. Barella had been angling to marry off Gwen to Teagan for the last few seasons. Marriage to Gwen wasn't abhorrent to Teagan. In fact, after everything that had happened during the Blight, he was considering it seriously. He wasn't getting any younger, after all. But, then, the attack on Denerim and this mess with the Orlesians put his consideration of marriage down a bit on his list of things to do.

"Of course, you are right, as always, Barella," Teagan said kindly to the woman who may be his mother-in-law someday.

She responded with only pleased surprise. Eamon had been the schemer and political warfare expert, but Teagan was ever the diplomat. He liked to think it was because he placed honor above any gamesmanship; however, in truth, it was simply because his way of interacting with people usually worked — often to the consternation of his older brother, Maker rest his soul.

Bann Rodson Kinsom of Ardossan stood and stretched. "Well, he does have a point, Teagan. We haven't gotten word from Denerim in over a week. And, the more we remain silent, the easier it is for Loghain to forget us." Ardossan was directly east from the encampment. Rodson had the least to share, considering half his lands were blighted, but he had offered everything he could to rid Ferelden of its new Orlesian infestation. "I wish we had access to your father's journals. I heard they contained quite a few studies in how to take Redcliffe."

"I do, too, Rodson. He would spend days coming up with potential scenarios of attack on the citadel, so we could shore up any weaknesses." However, that gave Teagan a thought. He stood and began to pace. "Father hated the idea of escape tunnels. They were our only hope of getting away from a siege, but they were also our greatest vulnerability. In fact, when Father was alive, we only had the one under the lake. Eamon insisted on the three other ones." He turned. "Calley, you say your men have seen no activity from the southern exit?"

"No, Your Grace, not even the slightest reflection of a chevalier cod piece." He frowned. Teagan didn't know if it was because Calley caught Teagan's drift and disapproved or if he was being too unclear. Allia, an elf servant who fled the castle with Isolde, but stayed with Teagan in the camp when Isolde headed to Highever, brought in a large tray of food and drink. She set it on a clear space on the large table.

"We need to get someone inside." Barella said. Everyone turned to face Allia at the same time. The color instantly drained from the poor girl's face. "An elf is almost invisible to Orlesians, dear. You know this."

"But, my lady … I … I …," Allia stammered and started to shake.

"Bah, she would never do." Calley stepped up and put a thick slice of cheese in his mouth as the elf curtseyed and quickly left.

"But, I could go." Unknown to everyone, Gwen had opened the tent flap. She stepped aside to allow Allia to flee the crazy humans. "I'm quite confident … and I'm certain I could play the part of a competent servant."

"Absolutely not!" Teagan said without hesitation. "My lady, the chevaliers are known for their foul treatment of beautiful Fereldens … and I'll not elaborate further here."

That's when Teagan was presented with the very reason why he'd avoided marriage for so long. Gwen's face clouded with anger. "If you think you can woo me by thinking I'm a fragile wallflower like that Orlesian Isolde, you have quite the surprise coming, Teagan Guerrin!" And, with that announcement, she slapped the tent flap closed and marched away.

Barella, who seemed pleased with Teagan's argument, fled after her daughter. "Let me speak with her, Your Grace. I'm certain this will all be forgotten by dinnertime." Teagan knew he didn't want to be anywhere near the Bandesward tent for a while.

When the men felt certain the women were out of hearing range, Calley laughed. "And, so it goes, Teagan. If marriage to that strong lady is in your future, you will need to learn to adjust and adapt."

Rodson slapped Teagan on the shoulder. "She'll be a fine Arlessa, but you may die an early death from the stress of it all."

As the two men began to tuck in on the luncheon left by Allia, Teagan found he wasn't amused in the least.

"Imagine the surprise on the face of Mosley the Snake when he and his thugs got surrounded by us, my lord!" Oran, the camp lookout, seemed pleased.

"Is Eileen all right?" Nathaniel was more interested in Ser Edgar Bensley's daughter than in how they routed the kidnappers. Edgar was a staunch supporter and ally, throwing his men and armaments with Nathaniel to aid in retaking the Vigil and then Amaranthine.

And, Eileen was beautiful.

"They tried to kill her, m'lord, but Brody's arrows took out enough of them so the girl could run away. She's a fast one, too! She's down by the fire. Varel's gonna take her home when he returns to the Vigil." Oran grinned. It was good to see morale still high after all this time waiting.

Nathaniel looked at his camp of loyal Fereldens and smiled. When they first came here, the small camp of a few tents and next to no supplies seemed dwarfed by the size of the island in Forlorn Cove. Now, the tents were spread beyond the bridge onto the mainland. Then his smile waned. They would need to move soon. They were too large a force now to get trapped on the island, divided by a rickety bridge that would trap half of them if it were to be destroyed. He headed across the bridge onto the island. As he walked up to the fire, Eileen Bensley stood. He took her hand and lightly kissed the back of her knuckles. "I am glad to see that you're all right, my lady."

"And, I thank you, my lord … with all my heart." There were tears in the woman's dark brown eyes. Her short red hair was mussed and her plain , but well-made, brown dress was torn. But her beauty made Nathaniel's breath catch. "I heard what they were planning to do with me while they waited for the ransom to be paid. I … I would have rather died."

Nathaniel's anger flashed. "They would have died a slow and painful death if anything had happened to you, my lady. That, I assure you!"

Varel cleared his throat. "Well, as it turns out, it seems they were given a quick death regardless."

Before Nathaniel could engage in any further conversation with Varel and Eileen, Brody Eddlebrek ran up. "Lord Nathaniel! We found out why the Pilgrim's Path has been so dangerous." He was barely holding onto the arm of a bound Dalish female who was determined to get away. Her hair was blonde and splayed out from her face and her eyes were wild. She wore no weapons. However, another man was carrying an ornately carved staff far away from the Dalish woman, so Nathaniel assumed it was hers and that she she was a mage. "This one was raining unholy magics down on any caravan that went through the Wending Wood. From her ravings, we believe she was part of the Dalish clan that Winslow tried to burn out before they got to Verring's Bend. She's a vicious one, my lord. There's well over fifty dead bodies laying around various caravans along the Path."

"I told them that they would pay for taking my sister and slaughtering my clan!" the woman screeched. "You'll pay, too, for helping them! I swear to the Creators!"

"Here now! We showed you the pit that blightsick soldier spoke of … full of humans without weapons, the same weapons that had been spread around your clan's camp. The soldier was dying, so why would he lie about seeing the darkspawn take your sister. It was made to look like the humans did it, but it was the darkspawn." Brody was having a hard time holding the woman. He looked toward Nathaniel. "Darkspawn attacked us, but we handled 'em fine."

"That's ludicrous! Darkspawn don't 'make things look like' something." The female elf's shouting was calming a bit, but only just a bit.

"Brody, tell me more of the details." Nathaniel was then regaled with a tale that would have seemed impossible but for the fact that the darkspawn attack on the Vigil seemed equally impossible. Nathaniel turned to the Dalish woman. "What is your name?" The only answer he got was her spit on his face.

As Nathaniel wiped off the elf's spittle, Ardan, a young man who had been helping Brody's scouting group, pulled out a necklace. "This was on one of the darkspawn we killed, my lord. We thought it might belong …"

"That's Seranni's necklace! It doesn't belong to you, shem!" The woman finally stopped struggling. "On a darkspawn? Creators." When she thought Brody's hold was loosening, she launched at Nathaniel again. "They probably took it off the shem who kidnapped Seranni."

"Great Maker's Mercy, elf!" Poor Brody was at his wits' end as he grabbed her back. "It was the darkspawn!"

"Please! Everyone shut up!" Perhaps Nathaniel was at his wits' end as well. He turned to the men and women who had captured the screeching Dalish. "Be sure to get all darkspawn blood cleaned off. Rinse off in the sea and then bathe yourselves and clean your armor well." Then, he turned to the Dalish. "As I understand it, Dalish, you are were exacting vengeance on innocent merchants for what a few frightened villagers did. Is that correct?"

Only Brody holding onto her arm kept her from barreling directly into Nathaniel. "None of you shems are innocent! You are the blight on this land!"

Before she could say anything more, Nathaniel quietly decreed, "Dalish, while you may feel justified in your anger against the villagers of Verring's Bend, you were not justified in killing innocent merchants." The anger swelled as he stepped closer to her and narrowed his eyes. "Those men and women also had families. Just what justice do you think they deserve for your crimes? You are no different from any 'shem' murderer and you will receive the same punishment." Brody noticed Nathaniel slip his dagger out of its sheathe. "I judge you guilty of mass murder and your swift execution will bring an end to the slaughter of those families' husbands and sons, wives and daughters."

The Dalish elf's eye widened and she only whimpered as her blood spilled out from around Nathaniel's dagger. His strike was true. Her death swift. Some would say too merciful for all the death she caused. He stood there and watched the light leave her eyes before he withdrew the dagger and flung it over the cliff into the ocean below. "What do the Dalish do with their dead?" He was already beginning to feel sick about what he had to do.

One of the elf servants spoke up, Nathaniel thought her name was Catheriel. "I believe they bury their dead and plant a tree on the grave, my lord. 'Tho, I'm not certain this Dalish deserves that much respect."

Nathaniel noticed many others nod in agreement; however, he turned to Brody. "Bury her in a grove of trees far from the road, Brody. If you find a seedling nearby, plant it on top." Nathaniel gave a weak smile to everyone. "She was found guilty and suffered her sentence. We need to show the grace of the Maker to all His children, even the wayward." As they left to complete his orders, Nathaniel remembered Eileen. He walked up to her and bowed, trying to hide his bloody hand. "I am sorry that you had to witness that, my lady."

When he looked up he saw only sympathy in Eileen's face along with a sad smile. She took his hand and cleaned away the blood with the skirt of her dress while she spoke. "My lord, you must remain strong. This execution will likely not be the last one. The nefarious among us move to take advantage of the chaos left in the wake of civil war and Blight." When she finished, she reached up and touched the side of his face. "You did what had to be done, Nathaniel. Order must be maintained." Then, she blushed and turned to Varel. "I think this might be a good time to depart, Seneschal Varel."

Nathaniel was at a loss for words. He wanted nothing more than to profess his feelings for Eileen, right there, in front of everyone. But, then he realized that everyone could likely read it on his face. All he said to them as they departed was, "Maker watch over you and keep you both safe on your journey." Then, he motioned to a couple of men to go with Varel and Eileen.

He went into his tent and sat at his makeshift desk. There was going to be a meeting in a short time to go over the logistics of moving the camp, but Nathaniel found it difficult to focus on that. His heart felt for the Dalish woman … and he realized that there may be future repercussions for his judgement … but he knew he'd done the right thing. Whatever the reason, murder was a crime.

His hands began to shake as he realized that his own family had the blood of innocents on its hands. He was trying his best to come to terms with that and had vowed to serve Fergus Cousland, but his nightmares of what must had happened to Kayda and her family on that horrible night wouldn't go away. His mind started down the usual dark and narrow path of "what if I …" but was stilled when a servant entered with Nathaniel's meal along with the others who were pledged to serve him. They were here for that meeting and he knew they would all offer words of support. All Nathaniel could do to maintain his sanity was pledge to be a better man than his father … and pray to the Maker that someone would execute him swiftly if he ever succumbed to his father's depravity.

The Deep Roads. A place of fear for most. The dwarves were always afraid to go there … unless they held their own funerals and joined the Legion of the Dead. The darkspawn were really nothing to fear. During a Blight, they were organized and dangerous … but they relocated to the surface and the Deep Roads were mostly empty. That's when Duran had been sent there. To die in exile at the hands of the monstrous darkspawn. That thought always made him laugh.

The rest of the time the darkspawn were mindless creatures wielding swords stolen from the foolish or their tainted magic or claws, as in the case of the shrieks. Mindless creatures were easy to dispatch by anyone clever enough to get to know them first. But, even the dwarves thought of them as monsters and so, the dwarves were afraid of the Deep Roads.

Bhelen and his sycophants sent Duran here to die without a chance to defend himself to the Assembly. Wise move, as Bhelen knew Duran could sway the Assembly to the truth. Stupid move to release Duran into the Deep Roads alone, rather than just execute him. Duran didn't give up so easily.

Gorim told Duran the Grey Wardens were in the Deep Roads. His Second told Duran to stay alive and meet up with them. But, the Grey Wardens never impressed him. They were mostly human … and they knew that the darkspawn down here were nothing to fear … but they allowed the legend, the false stories, to stand. They seemed to enjoy their status as something special. They were either liars or blind fools, neither of which Duran wanted to find himself among.

In addition to ruined architecture, darkspawn and crosscut tunnels, the Deep Roads also held secrets. Thaigs full of old things, old records etched on the stone. Duran quickly had a set of the finest armor and the best daggers the smiths of old could make. There were plenty of deepstalkers to eat and the water was clear of darkspawn taint in the places not frequented by the darkspawn … and there were a surprising number of those places.

Duran had spent a great deal of time in the old Aeducan thaig. That's where he uncovered his first secret … the dwarves of old liked to experiment. In the same hall that he had found the Aeducan Shield, there were rooms with symbols etched on all the walls. It had taken him some time to translate those odd symbols, but down there, time was all he had. There was a recurring theme … "so that we will not forget and repeat our greatest mistake." Duran didn't uncover what that mistake was until recently … well after the Legion had fled to the surface to fight with the Grey Warden and returned disappointed.

The surfacers used the darkspawn to explain their barbarian gods and prophets. They used the darkspawn to justify their need to band together against a common enemy, to please their god. But, the Stone knew better and the Ancestors led Duran to the real answer. The dwarves had a terrible dark secret. All the destruction, all the deaths, all the suffering. The dwarves liked to experiment, remember? The dwarves of old wanted to rule below and above. They needed soldiers to do that. Powerful ones. So they allied with several powerful Tevinter mages. They took the dragon, clearly the most powerful creature from above, and somehow melded it to the most powerful dwarves of the time … and the first broodmothers were created.

And the Gray Warden thought the story of golems was horrific.

The dragons were used until they became infertile and then the dwarves of old trapped the spent dragons in subterranean chambers. Before the dwarves found a way to create broodmothers from other genlocks and dwarves, they used and discarded seven dragons — curiously matching the number of the "old gods" the surfacers claimed would become Archdemons. Maybe these dragons got something from this experiment that the dwarves failed to recognize? A way to communicate to the surface, communicate to their "children", so that someone might free them? The answers to those questions, Duran had yet to find, beyond the anecdotal assumptions.

But, what he had found was enough. The Legion had a well-informed network of communication with Orzammar. It was simple for Duran to don Legion armor and listen in from time to time. Duran listened to conversations among the Legion who returned from the surface. The Grey Warden failed to kill the Archdemon. What the Grey Wardens said this meant was that the Archdemon would reform somehow. That was also a mystery that Duran hadn't uncovered. He suspected there was a clutch of those first dragon/dwarf eggs somewhere that the darkspawn would draw on to make a new master.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to research that one. He also overheard what Bhelen was doing with the golems and with dwarven society. Bhelen had turned most of the noble houses against him. Duran knew he had to return to Orzammar … and retake the crown. He just had to get Bhelen out of the way first.

AN: Thank you for all reviews, favorites and follows! You are all greatly appreciated! :)

anesor, yes, I like Alibear chapters, too. :) As if you couldn't tell, eh? ;)

Pervinca T, stay tuned. The Hawkes will return! :)

dustywalker, thank you so much for your kind words! :) Yes, well, the characters are very harsh with me when I put words in their mouths that they don't think they would say. ;)