Part XXV
It was really shaping up to be a rather lovely day, Fergus thought. Autumn was starting to be felt and the coolness was a much needed reprieve from the heat of summer. Only a few white billowy clouds hung in the sky that he and Seth spent some time imagining to be shapes of various fantastic monsters and other mysterious creatures. All was quiet down in the village for a change and to top it all off, his meeting with Bryland had gone better than he could have hoped.
The arl arrived late the previous evening and the teyrn was unable to meet with him until the morning, but when they did at last get a chance to speak, it had been fruitful. The arl was more than willing to share everything he knew about what Raythorne and Marlori were planning. Most of what the arl had to say, Fergus was already aware of. But Bryland was able to help put the missing pieces into place to paint a much clearer picture.
Up until now, Fergus had suspected that Anora had made a deal with Marlori and that somehow the Orlisians were involved. What he didn't know was why. Bryland explained in great detail about the missing gaps. Everything was centered around the trade routes, he informed. At long last, all of it began to make sense. Antiva and Orlais wanted to build a joint economic empire, the heart of which being centered in Denerim. But without gaining control of western Ferelden, all of that was moot. The trade goods still couldn't be shipped across the Frostback Mountains and be sent or received if Fergus still retained control of the Highever Teyrnir.
It was a grand scheme, indeed. One that took careful planning a preparation in order to execute. If not for Bryland having a change of heart, Fergus and his brother might have remained in the dark without vital information until it was too late to stop it. Fergus still worried that the balance may have been tipped too far by this point to do any real good. However, at least he could hold out against the Orlisians as long as possible. Thanks to Arl Bryland, that was even longer now that he knew what was going on.
Then, as things always seem to do in Ferelden, the wonderful day turned on its head and became a nightmare. It seems that the arl wasn't nearly as careful as he thought he was in hiding his intentions from his benefactors, for upon returning to his quarters later that afternoon, he was met with an assassin's blade. It was plain that word of Bryland's intent to switch sides had made it all the way to Raythorne, and possibly even Marlori, and the Crows were quickly dispatched to correct the problem.
Fergus did his best to track down the assassin, but to no avail. The culprit was able to disguise himself as one of the many castle servants and vanished just as quickly as he appeared. The arl's blood spilled freely in the castle corridors, staining the elegant floor a deep red. Fergus knelt over the wounded man, shouting for help. But the only person who could have any chance with such a horrific gash was hundreds of miles to the west: Morrigan. With the last bit of life he had remaining, Bryland pulled Fergus down closer to him and uttered his final words.
"Cuth...Cuthbert..." he gasped, "It falls on him now...to do...what I was...tasked with."
"Save your breath, Leonas. Help is coming." Fergus said, offering what reassurance he could even though both men knew the arl was beyond saving.
"No...li...listen to me. Marlori is..is prepared. They have ano...another...just...just in case."
"You're not making any sense. Another what?" Fergus asked, desperately trying to keep the arl in the world of the living long enough so he could learn the answer. "Leonas! Another what?"
"T...tell Habren...Tell her...I'm sorry..." where the last words the arl spoke before the life left his body and he slumped in Fergus' arms.
Fergus gently laid Bryland against the cold stone floor and closed his eyes. There was a false peace etched into the man's face the belied the circumstances of his death. It was as if the strain of recent weeks had become so great that death had become his only escape. But even though the arl had been released from his torment, Fergus was well aware of the damaging effects Bryland's death would have to their cause.
Without Bryland, they would be essentially have to start over again. Marlori and Raythorne's plan wouldn't work unless western Ferelden came under the grasp of Orlais, and now the responsibility for accomplishing that would fall on the shoulders of Lord Cuthbert, who had been one of Bryland's closest associates. Cuthert's standing among the nobility, however, wasn't nearly what Bryland's had been. That would make the job of obtaining the Highever Teyrnir that much harder for him. There was still a possibility that the teyrn's sway with the other lords would be sufficient to avert the Antivan's plans no matter how hard Anora pressed the matter.
That still didn't leave much time to act, though. Fergus knew that Cuthbert had probably already been informed of his new standing. It would take no more than a week at best for Anora to install Cuthbert as the new Arl of South Reach, which might give Cuthbert the political footing he needed to lead the charge against Fergus. The best chance the teyrn had was to file a petition insisting that it be Habren, and not Cuthbert, who should rightfully assume charge of the South Reach bannorn. Even if the petition failed, it would serve to buy them precious time. If they drew this whole ordeal out long enough, Fergus thought, the Antivans and Orlisians might tire of the struggle, and of one another, and simply give up. Barring any miracles, that was the best chance they had.
The cottage had been mostly filled with an eerie and awkward silence since The Warden and his witch departed to rescue Habren. Under the circumstances, that could be reasonable, considering that both Alistair and Edalweiss had been playing nurse-maid to a desire demon. Ironically, however, it was the demon who chose to do most of the talking. The creature would make observations about humans and their silly habits, or she would ask why one thing was important and another not. Edalweiss and Alistair rarely said at word at all; to the demon or to each other. It was almost like they were both afraid something could happen if they spoke.
Alistair refrained from talking out of a lack of desire to feel the small woman's sharp kick against his shin again. He could hardly say a single word or state a simple opinion without feeling the now familiar sting against his bruised shin. At least that's what he told himself. In truth, he'd become fascinated by the young woman, who, for whatever reason, had not only chosen to help him when she didn't even know him, but stayed around for all the time after.
Edalwiess' reasons from not wanting to talk were less obvious. She was indeed a curious creature, Alistair thought, fiery and temperamental one instant, and then sweet and kind the next. He was having an impossible time trying to figure her out. It was something he couldn't wrap his mind around. And even though he tried to force the issue from his head, he found himself always returning to the subject.
As was normally the case over the past two days, Alistair found Edalweiss in the kitchen cleaning up another rather large mess she made when she baked several treats for herself and Muirghein. The counter and floor were covered in flour and scattered crumbs from the pies that she and the fish had consumed. Edalweiss clothing was speckled with flour and covered in stains from the various fruit fillings she concocted. As she worked, her forehead and brow became dampened by many tiny beads of sweat and a few loose strands of her reddish-brown hair hung over her face, which she unconsciously brushed aside periodically.
Alistair stood there quietly for a few minutes, just watching the small woman clean up her mess while the fish floated around offering his help, which was generally nothing more than a few chirps to indicate that she had missed a spot. After watching the small woman for a bit, the rumbling in his belly reminded Alistair of why he'd come into the kitchen in the first place.
"I don't suppose you saved anything for me, did you?" he asked, startling Edalweiss a bit who was too wrapped up in what she was doing to see him standing there.
"You shouldn't spy on people. It's not very nice." she quipped in return.
"I wasn't spying." Alistair retorted, defending himself. "I was was just standing here waiting for you to get finished, that's all."
"Where I come from, we call that spying." Edalweiss quickly shot back.
"Maker's breath!" Alistair huffed, stepping closer to the small woman until he stood directly in front of her. "I just wanted something to eat. Where's the crime in that?"
"Fine! If that's really all you wanted, there's one pie left that you can have all to yourself." Edalweiss said, backing away from his advance and pointing to the lone misshapen and burned object that rested on the counter.
"You expect me to eat that? Are you trying to poison me?" Alistair asked as he continued to back Edalweiss up against the wall.
"There's nothing wrong with it. Me and Muiren just ate two of them by ourselves and you don't see anything happening to us." she replied, the tone of her voice becoming a bit unsteady. "But then again, I'm not sure about you. Maybe pies are poisonous to a jerkface like you."
Alistair slammed his hand against the wall and leaned in closer, locking Edalweiss in place and trapping her while he fixed his steely gaze down at her small frame. "It never stops with you, does it? You always have some sort of smart remark to make."
"At...at least I can be smart."
"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about. You say that I'm mean to you, yet all you ever do is insult me." Alistair rebuffed, pounding his hand against the wall for good measure. "None of it makes any sense whatsoever." he grumbled under his breath.
"What doesn't make any sense?"
"Did I say that out loud? That's not what I meant. What I meant to say was...was..."
"Just say it, already."
Alistair seemed to be struggling with the idea of telling Edalwiess exactly what he was trying to say. On one hand, she was never one for showing any sort of understanding toward him, but on the other, he felt as though the small woman exerted some form of control over him that he was unable to explain. It was twisting his head all up in knots and driving him completely insane. After taking a bit to think on the matter, he found the nerve to say what he'd by dying to say for a long time and reluctantly began to speak. "No matter how infuriated I get with you, I can't seem to stop thinking about you. All day you control my thoughts like you've cast some spell on me. No matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to be able to get you out of my head." he confessed.
"Alistair...I..." Edalwiess stammered, too shocked by the revelation to offer a reply.
"I know what you're thinking. Your thinking that I'm a fool and your probably right. But I can't help it, and at this point I'm not sure if I even want to try anymore."
His head leaned down, closing in on the young woman and cutting her off with no escape. "Damn it all." he muttered, then moved in for the kill.
"Please, don't." she pleaded, but it was too late. His lips pressed against hers, giving a deep kiss that said all the things his words could not.
She pulled away from him, pressing her back against the wall as tight as she could in order to create as much distance between herself and Alistair as she could. Still, though, it was not enough. The frightened look on her face told the former king that he had made a terrible mistake. Without saying a word, Edalweiss ducked under his arm and ran off to the main bedchamber, slamming the door behind her and locking it tight.
"Eda, wait!" Alistair called out as he began to give chase, only to have his path blocked by Muirghein, who appeared less than amused at Alistair for having upset Edalweiss in such a fashion.
"I wasn't trying to hurt her." Alistair explained in an attempt to defend himself, but the fish was apparently having none of it as he angrily chirped and hissed at the former king.
When Muirghein was satisfied that Alistair had gotten the message, he indignantly swished around in the air and darted for the room Edalwiess had locked herself inside, passing straight through the thick wooden door as if it wasn't even there.
"Damn!" Alistair fumed, cursing his own stupidity.
"What are you doing?" the girl asked as The Warden scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder.
"I've got to get you out of here. Those men won't be gone for long so that doesn't give me much time." he replied, ducking out the thin slit in the back of the tent he had carved earlier.
Habren began banging against his back his her bound fists, screaming, "put me down this instant you miserable peasant!"
Ignoring her command, The Warden bolted from the campsite and headed off into the thick underbrush toward his and the witch's camp, with Leo following just behind. In the distance, he could hear the shouts of the men that told him the shock and fear of being attacked by Morrigan in her spider-form was starting to pass and they were beginning to regroup. He had to fight the urge to turn around and assist his witch with every fiber of his being, forcing himself to trust the fact that Morrigan was quite capable of taking care of herself. Still, he kept his ears open to listen for any cries for assistance she might make as he trudged on through the forest, all while Habren beat her fists against his back and hurled insult after insult at him.
Finally he had enough. The Warden stopped in his tracks, saying, "Unless you want those men to know you've been taken, I highly suggest you be quiet."
"I won't have some lowly commoner tell me what to do!" Habren hissed. "When my father hears how you've treated me he'll..."
"Look..."The Warden interrupted, "I don't care what you tell your father, but if you don't shut your mouth and stop talking this instant, I'll take you back, put you where I found you, and leave you there. Am I clear?"
"I have never been spoken to in such a manner!"
"Now you can't say that. So unless you want those men to find us, do us both a favor and close your mouth."
"I think I would have been better off with those men." Habren huffed.
"I can always put you back where I found you. But considering you were bound and gagged, I would bet those men didn't like your attitude any better."
The girl said nothing in return, but The Warden could feel the angry glare even though he couldn't see it. Even though she didn't recognize who he was, The Warden had known Habren since she was a small girl, although he'd only met her a few times; the last of which being in Denerim during the Blight. To his recollection, she'd always been a bit of a spoiled brat. The Warden didn't really hold it against her, though, since her mother died when she was very young and with her father being away handling business of the bannorn, she was left to be raised mostly by the castle servants.
Overhead, The Warden glanced up to see the form of a small sparrow darting past him as it streaked for the other camp which was still more than a hundred yards away. He was glad to confirm that his witch had eluded her pursuers but was also aware that Raythorne's men would discover that Habren was missing and be finding their way to his and the witch's camp soon enough. While he didn't figure any of them to be expert trackers, neither had he bothered to conceal his path as he quickly stomped through the forest. Even a blind person could have known which direction he'd gone. There wasn't going to be any way around it; he and Morrigan would have to fight their way out.
The Warden and his witch could attempt to pack up their things and leave as quickly as they could, but he doubted that there would be sufficient time to do so before the soldiers had discovered them. Their best course of action would be to hide Habren away somewhere and make ready for the inevitable conflict. At least that way, he could ensure that he and the witch would have the most advantageous position possible. Better to fight the men head-on than to constantly have them nipping at their heels all the way back to Highever.
Stepping into the small clearing, The Warden was happy to see that Morrigan was once again thinking the same thing that he was as she readied herself for battle. The witch had already pulled her custom drakescale armor over her head and was fastening a thick belt which was threaded through a long sheath containing her magical blade. The Warden always found something profoundly appealing about Morrigan when she put on her fighting attire, but as much as he wanted to stop and stare, he had to get ready himself.
"I see that you were successful in locating the arl's daughter." Morrigan noted as she finished her preparations.
The Warden nodded affirmative as he bent down to lower the girl from over his shoulder. Being in a bit of a rush, he was less than delicate with her and she plopped unceremoniously onto her backside. Naturally, Habren was none too pleased about it.
"You stupid moron!" she yelled. "You call this a 'rescue'? When my father gets done with you, there won't be anything left of your miserable hide!"
"The girl is just as ill-mannered as I recall." Morrigan said. "Perhaps it would have been best to leave her where she was and simply tell the arl some sad tale of his daughter's demise."
"You bitch! You wouldn't dare!" Habren shouted back.
The short hairs on the back of Leo's neck began to raise and a he gave a low growl, indicating that he clearly did not approve of the girl's tone. Morrigan reached over and gave a few good pats on his head with a satisfied smile. The mabari's demeanor clearly unsettled Habren and she fixed her eyes on the beast, cautiously observing him.
The Warden had had his fill and was determined to shut the girl's mouth once and for all. "Hey!" he cried. "I don't know who the hell you think you are but nobody talks to her that way, especially not you. If I have to tell you one more time to close your mouth, I swear I'll tie your jaw shut and keep it that way until we get back to Highever. The only thing I want to hear from you right now is 'I'm sorry.' Do you understand?"
"I'll not be spoken to this way by some lowly peasant!" Habren fumed.
"That does it!" The Warden fumed and he stomped over to one of his packs and began searching through it. "Morrigan, where's that rope we had last night?" he asked.
"'Tis somewhere amongst your belongings." the witch replied. "As haphazardly as you stow your gear, 'tis no small wonder that you can find anything at all."
It was Habren's intention to call this man's bluff. There was no possible way he would ever dare to treat a member of the Bryland house so callously. She was sure that she would be able to convince this loathsome man and his wench that they were to ones making the grave mistake and had better start treating her with the dignity her station deserved. Then, to her shock, she watched as he found the length of rope he was searching for and withdrew it from the pack.
"Found it!" he exclaimed almost gleefully as he turned back towards the girl, who now bore a look that was far less certain than it had been mere seconds before.
"You don't have to do this." she begged while she tried to inch herself back away from his approach. "Please. I'll be good, I promise. I won't say anything else."
Still The Warden came closer, measuring out the rope in his hands as if to find the perfect amount needed to do the job properly.
The sight was more than Habren could take, and she relented. "Alright, alright!" she yelled nervously. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. Please don't use that thing on me."
Having heard what he was waiting for, The Warden stopped and dropped the rope on the ground at his side. "That's better." he said, nodding.
"'Tis all well and good, my love. However, I fear that your actions have only served to draw Raythorne's men to our location. They shall be upon us very soon." the witch remarked knowingly as she gestured back toward the forest.
"Then we better be ready for them." The Warden replied as he drew his blade and assumed a fighting stance.
All of them intently watched the edge of the treeline, scanning for the slightest movement. After a few tense moments, the sound of leaves and twigs crunching under heavily armored boots could plainly be heard. Shortly after, the first of the men burst into the clearing, closely followed by his companions.
The lead man pointed his sharp sword at the group and shouted, "there they are! And they have the girl! Kill them quickly and bring that spoiled wench back to her tent!"
The other soldiers charged out of the bushes and straight at The Warden, Morrigan, and the mabari. Instinctively, the three of them formed into a fighting circle, with their backs facing on another. Habren sat in the center, protected by the others.
The group of soldiers quickly swarmed around The Warden's party, encircling them with their weapons drawn and eager to strike. When all the men were in position, they lunged in to attack without hesitation. All of them confident that these interlopers would easily be dispatched and that they would soon be on their way back to their own camp. Much to their surprise, however, they immediately found out that The Warden and his allies were a much more resilient foe that they anticipated.
Two of the men were cut down in an instant, and a third was mauled by the mabari. From her protected spot in the middle, all Habren could do was cringe and scream as those around her fought back the attackers. She watched as the witch formed a ball of fire in her palm and then flung it at the solider closest to her; the blast causing the man to sail through the air and his lifeless body crashed against the ground several yards away.
The Warden was quick to notice that, while these men were no match for him and his witch, they were still more highly trained than mere average henchmen. They knew what they were doing with the blades they wielded and The Warden had to make sure he was especially careful not to let one of their razor-sharp edges come too close.
The clanking of metal-on-metal rang throughout the clearing as the two groups fought one another for possession of the girl. But the outcome was never really in doubt. And before long, The Warden and his witch were able to drive the two remaining soldiers off, sending them scampering back into the woods to lick their wounds.
After the men had gone, The Warden propped himself against his sword, panting and out of breath. Beads of sweat rolled down into his eyes while he rubbed his aching shoulder, wiggling it around as he did. "I'm getting too old for this shit." he mumbled.
"It would seem that your lack of activity has left you somewhat out of shape. Perhaps it might be wise if I were to devise some exercises for you." Morrigan teased with a wry grin. Making matters worse was the fact that the witch seemed to look just as refreshed as always.
"What are you talking about? I'm in the best shape of my life." he retorted as he stood up straight, accentuating the move with a slight groan.
"Far be it from me to argue with the Great Grey Warden." Morrigan said with a slight chuckle. "Still, our task is far from finished. We've yet to make the trip back to Highever."
"I know what you mean." The Warden confirmed. "Those men will more than likely try to follow us and swipe Habren at the first chance they get."
"'Tis true..." the witch agreed. "However, I was referring to the girl. The greatest challenge by far will be to make it back without having strangled her, myself."