Chapter 20
Dragon 9:34
Eluvista/Cloudreach & Ferventis/Justinian
South Reach/Denerim & Denerim [Present]
The day after the funerals Alistair held a small meeting in the dining room at Southreach. In attendance were Bregeth, Lawler and Oswyn. He sat Bregeth to his right with Niamh on her lap.
Once they had all settled he took Niamh from Bregeth, smiled at her and rocked her in his arms and began to talk.
"Thank you all for coming," he said quietly. "I just thought that these last few days have been pretty hectic for all of us and it is only fair that I should attempt to make some things clear. This is Niamh Eleniel and she is my daughter by Neriya Surana, a mage of the circle, otherwise known as the hero of Ferelden." There were subdued nods from Lawler and Oswyn.
"For what it is worth, therefore, she is also my personal heir and no other stands before her. Not so long ago I was concerned that I would not be able to produce an heir to ensure the future stability of Ferelden.
Now I actually have a child I find my viewpoint has changed completely, there are two things I wish for her in this life, the first that she be safe and the second that she be happy. I have no particular desire that she inherit the throne and will simply seek to bring her up as best I can.
On a personal note, I should say being King has not made me feel safe and has certainly not made me happy. Most days I get up and my first thought is to wonder why I haven't yet run away… But she is a Theirin and, as I know to my cost, fate sometimes has a way of sniffing us out"
Everybody was silent. "Anyway, this being the case I would like, in order to give my daughter the best chance in life, that we restrict the knowledge of her parentage to those in this room. Bregeth has already sworn by her deity, I was wondering whether I could ask you Lawler and Oswyn to swear in turn…"
Lawler said, "I swear by the Maker and his holy wife Andraste…" and then looked a little lost.
"Can I suggest 'not to disclose this child's parentage and to always use of my best endeavours to protect her'?" asked Alistair.
Lawler nodded and repeated, "Never to disclose this child's parentage and to always use of my best endeavours to protect her."
"Thank you, Lawler."
Oswyn began, "I swear by my honour and my life…" he paused, he had noticed Alistair looked somewhat taken aback "Alistair, I… There are things in life that make one doubt the existence of a deity, especially of a loving or caring deity…"
Alistair collected himself and replied, "Oswyn don't worry, I understand. You should swear by what is most important to you, that is all I have a right to ask here… We are among friends."
"Thank you. I Oswyn, heir to the Bann of Dragon Peak, do swear by my honour and my life that I will never disclose this child's parentage and will always use of my best endeavours to protect her."
Once Oswyn had finished Alistair visibly relaxed, "Now, suggestions as to where we go from here…" he said, "Perhaps we can say that Niamh is Bregeth's child by a human father and that we have agreed with the Keeper to escort her to the alienage in Denerim…" he turned to Bregeth, "Bregeth would you be happy with that? I know it is an imposition…"
"We have to do what we have to do…" said Bregeth holding out her arms and taking Niamh back from Alistair.
"Thank you." said Alistair, "Now, once we arrive in Denerim…".
"I shall go ahead and secure a room for Bregeth and Niamh at one of the inns," said Lawler "a reputable one," he added, "and then in the following days we'll find them somewhere permanent…" Alistair nodded.
"Oswyn can I ask you to stay here in South Reach for a month of so after we are gone and sort the estate out? Appoint a good steward or seneschal see that it starts thriving again. Try to find some of the people that you mentioned who used to work here prior to Habren taking over, they'll be familiar with the property and that will help get things back on track even quicker. I am sure it benefits no-one to have such an important arling as this left to rack and ruin… See if you can pay me a visit in Denerim by Summersday"
"Thank you," said Oswyn, "It will give me something to do… You know, I could ask my father for advice on managing an estate. I'm sure he's been dying for me to do that for years…"
Alistair nodded. "Right, now the final thing… As you are aware, Lawler spoke to Baudouin and got some names as to who is behind the attack, the people that offered Habren financial inducements for it to take place. This is the list…"
Bregeth and Oswyn bent over it. Bregeth scanned it very smoothly and quickly and then smirked and sat back, turning her attention to Niamh. "I do not care who they are" she said, "I would kill them all."
"Thank you for that measured and moderate opinion, Bregeth" said Alistair "I will be sure to bear it in mind."
"My prince," said Bregeth smiling humourlessly, "They would have killed you, me and your child without the faintest hesitation, they deserve no less."
Alistair chose not reply. Oswyn took the parchment from him and perused it carefully, fascinated. There were six names…
Alistair had not been overly surprised to see the name of Bann Coerlic on the list, if ever there was a feud between the Theirins and another family it was with the Banns of Southern.
The old Bann, the current one's father, also called Coerlic, had ambushed and slain Alistair's grandmother, Moira the Rebel Queen, and had, in turn, eventually been killed by Alistair's father, King Maric.
Of course, since Alistair was illegitimate and had been brought up bereft of all connection with his immediate blood family, such events were next to nothing to him personally, just names on the pages of dusty history books.
To Alistair's recollection, his most significant encounter with the current Bann Coerlic had been some three years ago, Dragon 9:31, in Denerim, shortly before the Landsmeet which had elected him King. Neriya had exchanged a few words with the Bann in the Gnawed Noble Tavern where he had been sitting despondently in front of a beer. Unsurprising really, since his lands had been recently devastated by the Blight and he had lost some of his children to the darkspawn hoard.
What Alistair had had more difficulty understanding was his fervent pro-Loghain stance, he distinctly recalled the Bann saying of Ostagar: "Why would Loghain leave half our own army to die when a Blight threatens? I take him at his word: The battle could not be won."
It was more what the Bann did not say with which Alistair took issue. Loghain had left the field of battle at Ostagar and in doing so might well have preserved half the army, but he had also let King Cailan, his half-brother, and Duncan and the other Grey Wardens perish, how could that be justified?
But, even worse, in Alistair's eyes, Loghain had then sought to blame the Grey Wardens themselves for the King's death, putting his own life and that of Neriya at risk. A man might make a mistake or commit an act of which he was ashamed, but to after that seek to shift the responsibility for that mistake or act onto others who were wholly innocent of it, in Alistair's view, that was truly ignoble and despicable. Further, Alistair would never forgive nor forget anyone who threatened Neriya's existence. For both things, more than for abandoning the field at Ostagar, Loghain's life was forfeit. For all those things, Loghain had paid at Alistair's hands and he did not, for a moment, regret being his executioner.
As for the Bann, as far as Alistair was concerned, he was perfectly entitled to his opinions and to be a fool and a dupe if he so wished. He had probably met the man several times since, at functions in the palace and such but he had never, to his recollection, had so much as a conversation about the weather with him. Of course, now that Bann Coerlic's name was on this list, their relationship, was on a whole new footing.
The only other name Alistair had recognised on the list was the Bann of Walford sited just north of South Reach, in the southernmost part of the Bannorn. He could not for the life of him recall the person who held it. The remaining five names were unfamiliar.
Alistair asked Oswyn "Do you recognise any of those names apart from Bann Coerlic? Why should they conspire against me? Do you know who the Bann of Walford is? I really can't remember…"
"That would be Bann Domhnall… You know, the plump one…"
"Not a clue…" said Alistair shaking his head, "Anyway, what of the others?"
"I really don't know…" replied Oswyn
"Oswyn, could I ask that you speak to Habren and run these names by her before we leave? Also if she could tell us who they are and where they live, that might be helpful, too. Since she knows you, she might be more forthcoming with you than she would with Lawler…"
Oswyn said, "Yes, I think I can do that…"
Just over two weeks later, shortly after arriving in Denerim and still in his travelling clothes, with Bregeth and Niamh newly installed at an inn and Habren in a cell in Fort Drakon, he was unpacking his things in his room when he felt someone standing by the door. He looked over and saw that it was Anora.
"Dearest…" he said straightening with the slightest touch of irony.
"Alistair…" replied Anora, always as if to a naughty child. "Are you well?"
"Well enough," he replied, "I am here, am I not? Only strained my arm…"
"I heard…"
He went over to her, for a brief moment she thought he was going to embrace her but he just placed his hands on her shoulders and held her at arms' length studying her face very intently. Anora withstood his scrutiny with icy indifference.
"I cannot…" Alistair muttered almost to himself, "If I could read you, what would I see now?" he asked in a louder voice.
"How do I know?" she answered, "don't we all see things differently?"
He let her go with a small sound of disappointment.
"I will not waste my breath on pointless denials…" said Anora, as he turned away and went back to unpacking his books.
"As you say." He replied, his back to her.
That night he wrote to Eamon and Teagan to tell them he needed to speak to them when they came to Denerim in a few weeks time.
After he left Fort Drakon he felt drained. It had been a long day, a long night, a long two months since he returned from South Reach but having finally made a decision on Habren, and one that he was happy with, he felt he had brought at least part of it to an end.
Still a lot to do, though, he thought, as he left the shadow of the fortress behind him. In his life there always seemed to be a lot to do. His original idea had been to return to the palace but once he got there, his feet continued walking, despite the foul weather, roughly following the course of the River Drakon southeast, towards the alienage.
He stopped once or twice on the way, if the night was cold it had also turned clear. He had a particular favourite place on the way to the alienage it was a square one side of which opened out on the road that followed the river. The buildings around it mostly belonged to rich merchants, he imagined, and were three stories high and prosperous and solid looking without being extravagant. They were also all quite different without being mismatched or haphazard. The lower part of them formed an arcade around the three sides of the square and in the middle there was a standpipe with stone basins, that during the hot days of summer, inevitably, would attract hoards of noisy children… He thought he could hear them now, even though it was night and dark.
Shortly before he came into view of the large gated entrance to the alienage a hand fell upon his shoulder from behind. He turned quickly and drew, "I have a sword," he said dryly.
"I know," said a light female voice, "and a large one too…"
Alistair sighed lowering the blade, "Not tonight… I am not in the mood…"
"Woe is Ferelden when its Lord tires of love…" said the stranger in an easy, mocking tone.
Alistair could only see the lower part of her face. There was a pert smile under the hood of her cape, her lips were perfectly lined and perfectly rouged in deep crimson, an Orlesian courtesan could not better the precision of that mouth, he thought. Her voice seemed familiar but he could not place it.
"Very poetic." He remarked, and added "Leave me, woman, but take some silver for your trouble and rest what remains of the night, the Maker go with you…" he dropped some coin into her small outstretched hand.
"Thank you, sweet Prince, may you, too, dream well…" she brushed past him and melted into the shadows.
"I shall try." He said sheathing. "I shall try."
In due course, he came to the door he was seeking and knocked, there was a muffled salutation and it opened the little, dark elven servant girl standing barefoot in the doorway. "Ser, the lady sleeps…" Alistair wondered idly what 'the lady' would say if she knew she were called such behind her back.
"I know" he said walking past her, "I know it is late…"
But no sooner had he gained the bottom of the staircase than a light shone from above. "Who goes…"
He pulled his hood down, "It is I…"
"I thought the girl hung at dawn…" whispered Bregeth from above, her words echoing faintly down the stairwell.
Alistair did not reply but walked up the two flights suddenly feeling a week's tiredness dragging him down. Bregeth stood at the head of the stairs wearing a nightshift, a lamp in one hand, his child in the other, curled up against her breast, asleep. As soon as he approached Bregeth held her out to him and he took her, cradling her small warm body in his arms.
"You look exhausted…" said Bregeth.
"I am." He replied looking down at Niamh.
"I shall take the divan, you can have the bed…" she said.
"I did not come here to turf you out of your own bed…"
"Nevertheless."
Alistair walked towards the bedroom holding the still sleeping Niamh. He gazed longingly at the sturdy double bed with the crisp white sheets and in hushed tones said to Bregeth, "Let's be civilized about this…" then he hesitated, "you know I, well I…"
"You are struggling to find polite words to tell me that you do not find me sexually desirable." She summed up.
"That's… Yes."
"I shall make it simple for you, Alistair. Although I respect you, as I have said before, I am not interested in males and even less in male shems." She took the still sleeping Niamh from him and set her down in a cradle and climbed into the far side of the bed next to it.
Alistair began removing his clothes and dropped them on a pile on the floor. "Tonight…" he said.
"Rest. We shall talk on the morrow." She replied.
When he got down to his smallclothes he crawled into the bed on the opposite side to Bregeth and, feeling strangely at ease, quickly fell fast asleep.
He was dreaming of a clear sky and a pool of calm green water not unlike Lake Calenhad when suddenly the peaceful landscape was rent by a scream. He opened his eyes, Bregeth stood by the cradle, "she is hungry, go back to sleep, I shall see to her…" he turned over and did.
This time it was more of a slow, miserable wail, he woke immediately. Bregeth was fretting on her side of the bed. "She must need changing…"
"I guess it is my turn…" Alistair said. Bregeth sighed, lit a lamp and he got up feeling wearier than Thedas and walked towards the cradle.
"Put her in the bed between us, she'll probably sleep better like that." said Bregeth once he had finished.
"Will she be alright?"
"Oh yes."
He put Niamh on the mattress between them facing towards him, he reached out to touch his daughter and she gripped one of his fingers and cooed sweetly, he chuckled. "I was thinking what I would tell Niamh when…" he said to Bregeth, but before he could finish the sentence, he was dead to the world once more.
The following morning he was just pulling on his boots in the parlour when Bregeth wandered in, still in her shift, carrying Niamh.
"You're going." She said sitting down at the table, looking at the empty porridge bowl in front of him.
"I was, yes," said Alistair.
"What happened last night?" Bregeth asked.
He finished pulling on his boot, sighed, sat up straight and faced her. "I turned Habren over to the Grey Wardens, on condition they take her out of Ferelden and that she never come back…"
Bregeth was silent, looked down at Niamh and rearranged her wrappings nodding.
"If she does not die in the joining…" Alistair continued, "she will be made such as I am…"
Bregeth looked over at him and then, after a few beats, he realised her gaze had become fixed. He leaned over the table towards her, waved his hand in front of her eyes, "Bregeth, Bregeth!" grabbed her arms and was about to shake her when she came to.
"I am sorry, Alistair," she mumbled.
He sat back, looking worried, "Are you alright?"
"Just a little tired," she said running her free hand over her forehead, then she added, "Yes, if she is made such as you are… That will be punishment enough…"
It was not until he had reached the street that meandered by the river and got his first eyeful of the day of the Drakon in all its dirty, tawdry glory, that the full meaning of her words hit him.