MAISON DE NEVARRA; HOODED WOMEN

I went out shortly after dusk. The skies had cleared and a full moon shone in the west, casting long shadows across the rain-drenched streets. I stared up at it as I exited the gates of the Palais, thinking that it might be difficult to approach the Ambassador's home from the western side in such bright moonlight.

One advantage of all my aimless wandering over the past days was that I knew my way around the city quite well. I could travel almost all the way to the ambassador's house using deeply shadowed backstreets and alleys. Although the gates to Sybille's home were always watched, I was certain that no one would be able to determine where I had gone, only when I left, and when I returned.

The Ambassador's house backed onto a bluff on the river bank. The front gates faced the broad avenue that led to the Grand Market. I would be very exposed if I tried to enter the house from that side, so I made my way down to the river to view the approach from the east. There was a steep track down from the house to a small dock. I wondered if the Ambassador viewed it as a quick escape route, if things became dangerous in Val Royeaux. Relations between Nevarra and Orlais were always testy, and war could break out at any time. It looked like a perfect access route to the house.

It proved somewhat less perfect than I imagined. It was very dark, which was good for approaching unseen, but made for difficult footing on a steep, slippery track. I was fortunate that the bushes that grew on the hillside were strong enough to bear my weight. Several times on my way up the bluff, I was saved from an ignominious fall into the river by clinging to the shrubbery.

When I reached the top, I found myself outside a low wall encircling the house. The moonlight was completely blocked by the house from this direction. I clambered up the wall, then lay flat on top of it and surveyed the landscape. There was a small orchard between the wall and the house. As I waited and watched, I saw two guards who appeared to be walking around the perimeter of the house. Although they carried torches, the trees would offer plenty of concealment if I timed my movements carefully.

As they finished their circuit of this side of the estate, I dropped down to the ground and moved into the orchard to get a good view of the house. One advantage of summer was that I was sure not all the windows would be shuttered. After toweling the mud off my boots as much as possible, I studied the house, looking for telltale light indicating a shutter not completely closed and latched. I spotted two on the first floor and one on the second. The ones on the ground floor had so much light emerging from them that I was certain someone was in those rooms, so I set my sights on the upper floor. I waited, hidden in the trees, while the guards made another circuit of the orchard, then made my move. I could have climbed up the wall unaided, but decided a rope would be quicker. I threw the rope upward, securing a hold on the windowsill with a grappling hook, and climbed up the wall.

As I expected, the shutters were almost fully closed, but not latched. I opened them cautiously and peered into the room. No one was in the small bedroom. The light I had seen was filtering in through the door, which was slightly ajar. I entered the room, pulled up my rope and closed the shutters behind me. I doubted that the guards would notice the rope, but it was best to err on the side of caution.

I crept across the room and peeked through the open door. Beyond lay a gallery surrounding a great hall. I guessed that it had once been an open-air courtyard, but it now had a high ceiling with elaborately carved and painted woodwork. I relaxed thinking how the colonnade supporting the ceiling would make it easy to stay hidden and survey the central room. Better still, the gallery was carpeted; my footsteps would be silenced.

I heard voices and was startled to hear one that sounded like Leliana. I moved across the gallery and peered to the hall below. A man—the Nevarran Ambassador I presumed from his formal clothes—was speaking to the woman whose voice I had heard, and whose face was shadowed by a hood. After seeing her more clearly, despite the hood, I knew it could not be Leliana. The similarity of voice was a coincidence. This was a much older woman, leaning on a cane, and with tendrils of gray hair escaping from under the hood. She seemed to be leaving. Was I too late? There was little I could do if the information I had been given was wrong. I could not hope to make my way to the front gate without being seen in time to follow her.

But just as I was despairing, a second hooded woman entered the great hall. She was greeted with a warm embraced by the ambassador and kissed the other woman on both cheeks in greeting. They were too far away for me to pick up what they were saying. I hoped the newcomer was the one I had been asked to identify. Curse Orlais and its plots and counterplots. How many secret visitors could one man have in the same night?

I waited to see what they would do. After the grey-haired lady hobbled out, leaning on her cane, the ambassador and the other woman ascended the staircase in the center of the room, reaching the gallery on the opposite side from me, a servant trailing behind them. I watched as they entered a door and shut it behind them. Much to my annoyance, she kept the hood up the entire time and I still had not caught a glimpse of her face. Worse, rather than being off about his business, the ambassador's manservant waited outside the door. How was I going to see the woman clearly enough to describe her? All I knew of her was that she was of average height and voluptuous build.

At first, I thought the servant would surely leave soon. I crept along the gallery toward him and waited. Fortunately, there was not much activity in the house at this time of night. Sometimes there were people in the great hall, but they were not looking up at the gallery. Two people came up the stairs and went into rooms adjoining the gallery to turn in for the night, but I had no difficulty avoiding being seen. After some time, I noticed that there was a small chamber pot by the door; the man could stay there all night, if required.

I decided I would have to take action. I waited until I could see no one else about, then crawled to the column nearest the servant and threw one of my darts, catching him in the back of the neck. He would feel no more than a needle prick because the drug numbed pain as well as inducing sleep. After a few minutes, he slumped against the wall. I applied a small amount of healing poultice to close the tiny wound made by the dart, then maneuvered him into a nearby chair. I listened carefully at the door. They were awake and talking, but sounded sleepy. Perhaps they had already made love. I decided the woman was called Jehannette, though other names were mentioned in conversation. I paid close attention but understood little of what was said. There was much talk of people I didn't know, and some of estates and titles. At last, their conversation stopped and no more light showed beneath the door. They must have put out the torches. I waited for a while to let them fall asleep, but not too long, as I did not want the sleeping servant to be discovered.

When sufficient time had passed, I applied some lard to the hinges of the door to limit any squeaking, and tried the knob, hoping it would not be locked. I was in luck. I opened the door and crept in, closing it softly behind me. Their window was completely shuttered and it was so dark that I could not see where the bed was, even after letting my eyes adjust. I had to move with great care to avoid bumping into anything in the dark with enough force to make noise. The woman was no more than five feet away from me—I could hear both of them breathing—but I couldn't see her, much less describe her.

There was only one thing I could do. The window was visible by the tiny amount of light in the crack between the shutters. I made my way over to it, smeared some lard on the hinges, unlatched the shutters and opened one of them. I was careful not to let the light fall directly onto the bed where it might disturb them. The moonlight filtering into the room gave me just enough illumination to see this Jehannette.

She lay curled up beside the ambassador, her heavy breasts exposed because she had pulled the bedclothes down. She wouldn't be so hot if they had left the shutters open, I thought with irritation. Her hair was long and light in color—blonde or light brown mixed with gray? She was probably in her late forties, a little older than Sybille, and her face was round, her nose prominent and sharp, though not unattractive. She had a mole on her left cheek.

My task completed, I closed the shutters and left the room. The ambassador's manservant still sat in the chair, fast asleep, his breathing steady. I made my way back to where I had entered the house—I supposed it must be a guest room that was not currently in use—and looked out into the orchard, watching for the guards making their rounds. After they had passed, I climbed out the window, dropped down to the ground and rolled, then clambered over the wall. The mission had been a complete success. The only little slip had been the manservant, but surely a servant with such a duty falling asleep would not arouse any suspicion. I made my way back to the Palais de Montfleurie confident of a job well done.

Sybille's guards seemed surprised to see me returning so late, but recognized me and let me in. Alistair was waiting for me in the entry hall, pacing. He broke into a relieved smile when I entered.

"Oh, Aedan, I'm so glad to see you. You were gone so long, I got worried…."

I chuckled and embraced him. "You shouldn't have stayed up for me." I chided him "How could you doubt that I would return, with such a beautiful man waiting here?"

"Was there…trouble?"

I shook my head. "Not that kind of trouble. It just took a while before I had a chance to see what I needed to see. But I should be able to get my response from Morrigan now."

"You think she'll agree to see you?"

I sighed. "I don't know. I hope so, but Morrigan is difficult and stubborn. But I've done all I can tonight. Let's go to bed."