"Commander," Seneschal Varel said, as she stepped off the practice field, with Zevran, wiping her forehead with a towel. "Lord Casterly is here to see you. He claims it is most urgent."
Solona nodded. "Show him into my office – if it's just he, I think we can dispense with the 'standing about in drafty throne rooms' bit and get on to the 'what can I do for a lord who's sworn fealty to me' bit. "
"Would my lady perhaps like to, ah, change?" Varel asked delicately.
Solona shook her head. "If Lord Casterly came to the keep this morning, then he walked right past us out on the field. I'm certain that if this is very important, he won't mind the armor and perspiration – and if it is NOT important, he'd do well to remember I am skilled in the arts of war."
"But perhaps," Zevran said smoothly, "a basin to wash the dust of the compound off hands and face would not be amiss, no?"
Solona nodded. "Done. A basin of warm water and towel, in my office. Casterly to be shown in a couple of minutes after the basin arrives. Let's show him this arlessa is not afraid to work."
"Lord Casterly, my lady."
Solona turned from the washbasin, drying her face and hands on the towel she had draped over her shoulders. Zevran had gone back to shepherd her mage recruits back to the bathing facilities; her second in command, Nathaniel Howe, leaned against the wall by the arched window, arms crossed against his chest, looking like a thundercloud.
Solona had to give him credit: the man could be intimidating.
Solona extended a hand to Casterly, giving him a firm handshake – one of the quirks she had. She thought she saw Nathaniel's nostrils twitch a moment – well, so be it. She would rather give the impression of someone more suited to a hands-on warrior position than to expect people to bow and scrape to her. "Lord Casterly. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"My lady…. There has been an attack on my lands." She noticed that his hand had been slightly clammy and that his pupils were slightly wider than normal. This was a man who was frightened. She gestured that he should sit, and poured him a mug of wine to steady him.
After he'd sipped, he told the tale. "Several of the farms that your predecessor placed under my protection were overrun with darkspawn this morning, my lady. They struck fast, and did not kill as many as we expected…."
"However…?" Solona urged gently.
"They carried off some dozen of my vassals, my lady… all of them women or girls of marriageable age."
Solona's stomach twisted. "Only women and girls…. You're certain of this."
"Yes, my lady." Casterly's face seemed to sink in on itself as he glanced at Nathaniel, then back at her, then went on in a rush, "One of the missing girls… my natural-born daughter, Alyssa. Please, my lady, she is my only joy."
Solona was surprised that he claimed the bastard – it was all too few of the nobility, in her experience, who would. That she was his only joy she was certain – she'd seen the battleaxe he had married and the strutting popinjay sons Lady Casterly had presented him.
"In what direction were they seen to go," she asked.
"West, my lady, toward the Knotwood Hills."
Solona nodded at Nathaniel, who pushed off from the wall and left the room to round up Zev, Oghren, Sigrun and Anders. She waited until he had left, then put her hand on Casterly's shoulder.
"They are in very grave danger, I will not lie to you," she said. "I promise you, if it is within my power, I will bring back your daughter and these others. If not…"
She squeezed his shoulder.
"If not I swear that they will be avenged."
"So, back to Kal'Hirol?" Sigrun asked as Solona entered the cozy room off the kitchen that they used as informal dining room and war room. Barkly padded in after her, with Anders' kitten – whose name, Ser Pounce-a-lot, was twice as big as its owner – perched on the mabari's broad shoulders.
"Yes." Solona looked as if she'd aged a decade in the last half hour. "This is likely to be bad."
Nathaniel nodded. "A dozen women and girls kidnapped by darkspawn. We're to rescue them."
"Do darkspawn even take hostages?" Anders asked, surprised. Oghren swore, and kicked the wall.
"They don't." Solona said. "Sigrun, you'll remember that when we met you, we freed you from being dragged off by that big, nasty Hurlock?"
"Not likely to forget it. " Sigrun chirped. "That arcane blast of yours surprised him just enough to let me roll free and get my axe up into his kidneys."
Solona nodded. "If we had not been able to get you free of him, Sigrun, I'd have fireballed you both."
If the Legion of the Dead scout was surprised, she didn't show it. "Well, that would have been a warm welcome!"
"What? Why?" Anders cut in.
"Because the sodding darkspawn kidnap women for only one reason, Sparklefingers!" Oghren yelled. "You ever wonder why we never seen women darkspawn?"
"Who could tell under all that ugly?" Anders retorted.
"Children." Solona said sharply. They all stopped and turned toward her. Andraste's flaming arse, I think I'm the youngest one in the room, she thought in bleak surprise, looking at the various looks of surprise, sulking or, in Nathaniel's case, a hint of respect.
"Darkspawn force-feed females tainted flesh," she said quietly. "Then they are transformed into broodmothers and produce hundreds of darkspawn. It's why I'd have killed you rather than let you be taken, Sigrun." She shuddered. "As Wardens, we're immune to taint now, but anyone else…"
"Ancestors…." Sigrun muttered.
Anders glanced at Solona. "So this might not actually be a rescue."
Solona shook her head. "If those women and girls are tainted..."
Anders turned his back, staring out the window.
She looked at Nathaniel, who nodded slightly to her.
She wanted to say, I don't like the idea any better than you do. Or, I understand, the idea makes me sick, too. But what she said was, "If they're tainted, we have to put them to the sword. For expediency's sake, yes, but it's a mercy too. I know I'd rather have my throat slit than be… that."
Anders swore fluently under his breath.
"Pack up," she told them. "Sooner we go, the better for those girls."
"My dear Grey Warden," Zevran said quietly. "I would like to offer my skills to you there, below the ground."
Solona shook her head. "No, Zev, though I appreciate the offer. We've been in Kal'Hirol before, and it's thick with taint." She caressed his cheek, and leaned her forehead against his affectionately. "It would be death for you were you infected since we both know your limits with exchanging bodily fluids." She tried a wry smile; felt it was a grimace. "I need you here, training our magelings in knife-fighting in case…." She couldn't finish the thought.
"One of these days, dear heart, you're going to go down into a hole in the ground and never come back," he said softly, kissing her on her forehead.
"One of these days we're all going to go down into a hole in the ground and never come back," she replied, nodding to the Wardens who were getting up to gather their gear.
"Solona…." Zevran said, clearly worried.
"Zev." She smiled sadly, and said softly, so softly that Anders couldn't hear. "Train my magelings well. And if, in the end, you're there when I'm to head out to my Calling… do me a favor…."
"If I still live, my dear, anything."
She fixed him with a very serious look.
He sighed. "It's like that, is it?"
She nodded. "It's like that."
He nodded. "Thirty years…. That is rather a long-term contract."
"I'll only hire the best," she said. "What would your terms be?"
He glanced at Anders as the mage picked up the kitten from Barkly's shoulder and tucked him into a pocket of his robe. The mage took a knee and rubbed the dog's ears with a far-off, distracted look, and spoke softly to the mabari, who responded by solemnly putting a paw on his shoulder and nuzzling his ear. "Perhaps we can discuss that at a later date," Zevran said quietly.
"Have I mentioned today…"
"…how much you hate the blighted Deep Roads? How you would die a happy man if you never had to even THINK about the Deep Roads again?" Solona finished for Anders as they stood, back to back, weaving a tapestry of spells…. Solona's all flame and force and destruction, Anders' healing and protection for the rest of the party. They switched positions with a quick sidestep to the right that let her pound back some of the horde pressing Sigrun and Oghren and Anders heal and rejuvenate a flagging Howe.
"So…. Close in conversation with Zevran earlier…."
"Can we discuss this later, Anders?" she asked. "Please?" She leaned in quick and kissed him hard.
He flashed her a fleeting smile. "I'll hold you to it."
The chamber in which they found the girls was a chamber of horrors. Two of the girls were already dead, their faces grey and their veins distended and black. Three more were vomiting and when they drew close to them, Anders winced. The taint was singing its horrible symphony in their veins, and their skin was taking on a faintly ashen undertone.
"Let me try," he said, in a low, urgent voice, and Solona did. She didn't have the heart to tell him what they all knew, and she knew that he would never be able to accept that this was beyond his powers to heal without experiencing it. When he looked up at her, horrified, shaking his head, she motioned him to go take care of their other charges.
It was Solona herself who put them under a sleep spell and did what was necessary, wiping her dagger carefully before resheathing it. She gathered the five together and used the firestorm spell to incinerate them so they would not further defiled in death.
Seven girls were physically untouched. Their emotional well-being Solona could not speak for. She, Sigrun and Barkly formed a triangle around them, the men forming an outer triangle with Howe on point and Oghren and Anders bringing up the rear. It was a miserable and exhausting trudge home, and she didn't stop to alert Casterly that they had returned after dark. She had some of the female maids draw baths, and had the girls bunk in the second of the dorms with Sigrun.
One of the survivors had been Alyssa. At least she could return her to her father safely, and she thanked the Maker for small favors.. She did not look forward to telling the other parents that their children would not be coming home.
"It is my responsibility, Arlessa," Casterly had said the next morning, tears of joy standing in his eyes, holding his daughter as if she were five and not twelve. "They are my people."
"Thank you," she said quietly. All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep for a week or six.
"My lady," Casterly said, his voice breaking, "thank you. When the time comes, depend upon my support."
Anders slipped into Solona's room, to find her seated at the window, looking out blindly. He came up behind her quietly and placed both hands on her shoulders. She turned into him with a strangled sound, and hugged him hard as he sat beside her.
"That was fairly horrible," he murmured, rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head.
"Have I told you how much I hate the blighted Deep Roads?" she asked raggedly.
"You might have mentioned." He held her while she trembled in his arms, and was surprised when she took a deep breath and said, "About Zevran."
Anders stilled, and waited. He hadn't expected her to be this open with him.
"I took out a contract. On myself." She raised a hand to forestall his argument and instead he made a sort of strangled sound. "I will NOT end up a brood mother. I will NOT end up a ghoul in the end. I will NOT."
"'Lona…."
"Anders," she said quietly, "No. "
"So… what? You asked a man who genuinely cares about you to end your life?"
Solona closed her eyes.
"You may not want to hear it, sweetheart, but Zevran would cheerfully throw himself into death's jaws for you – despite all the flirtation, he cares for you on a level of which you either are not aware. or of which you are taking ruthless advantage, and I am not sure which is worse." Anders shook her, looked into her startled blue eyes. "Listen to me. I've flirted with you the same way he does, and I'm sure he cares for you - maybe more than he himself is willing to admit. Whether you intended it or not, you've shown him you consider him second best twice; to ask him to be the tool that ends you is beyond cruel." He looked searchingly at her, his brown eyes filled with worry. "You cannot do that to him, love… you must not ask it."
"All right, Anders." She looked very small and tired. Defeated. "I don't suppose you're offering to take his place…."
Anders smiled grimly. "What makes you think I won't be right there beside you? We'll make quite the little war party – the Hero of Ferelden, Commander of the Grey, your ex-templar royal ex-boyfriend, your apostate mage, a drunken dwarf, a pre-killed dwarf, and a scout-assassin."
"Won't that go over well in the history books."
"Really, sweetheart! You know they'll clean it up for the school kids."