Note of the author: I know it's getting really old to apologize for the long wait every time, but here goes. I started a fulltime job in March and since then my free time has been a lot more limited. That, and a bunch of uncooperative chapters have slowed my progress to a crawl. I actually intended to cover more in this Fenris chapter but since it has gotten long already, I figured I'd upload this now. I think the next chapter will again be a Fenris one.

To everyone still sticking around: thanks for being awesome and saintly patient. I'm still alive, still going, and I hope that the action in this update makes up for the long wait a little bit at least.

It took two more days before Fenris and Rebekkah found the camp set up by the slavers, or rather: before the slavers found them. After the path led them over the peaks of the first mountain range, the terrain sloped down into an oblong-shaped valley, firmly enclosed by the mountains on three sides. Only eastwards did the steep rock formations allow sufficient room for a pass between the mountains. Fenris counted a handful of tents in the valley — not nearly enough to house the number of slaves that had supposedly been brought here. Yet the numerous caves they had come across so far offered a decent explanation as to where the captives could be held. Just as had been common practice on the Wounded Coast when the borders of the Tevinter Imperium still stretched much farther south, the natural cave systems here were perfectly suited for keeping slaves sheltered and out of sight until they could be transported further. From up here it was impossible to tell which caves the slavers had chosen to utilize, but that question would answer itself once he got close enough. It was not much of a leap to assume that any guards positioned near a cavern entrance were not there to ward off bats and spiders.

Fenris spent several minutes meticulously searching the environment for guards, be it hidden or in plain view. Next to him Rebekkah impatiently hopped from one foot to the other while sucking on a drenched strand of hair. He did not see anything or anyone in the vicinity — the encampment was still well below them, its inhabitants little more than specks moving about on the ground — or they would be if his view was not blocked by pine trees and the undergrowth covering the mountain sides. He had to get farther down, get a better idea of the slavers' numbers and positions. Doing this by day carried the risk of being spotted but the descent was too long and arduous to make by night without a torch, which was guaranteed to announce their presence from miles away. His best bet was getting about halfway down the mountain, assess the situation, then find a place to wait for nightfall, where Rebekkah would stay while he freed the captives. Hopefully the trees would ensure they remained unnoticed for the time being.

"Try to move quietly," he told Rebekkah. "We're still far removed from them but should avoid making needless noise. They mustn't know we're here."

She gave two nods without pulling the hair from her mouth. As usual Fenris had to hold back the urge to tell her to stop that disgusting habit. He was not on a quest to raise a child and teach her proper manners. He'd rather avoid upsetting her when possible, which was a challenge in itself considering her stubborn, disagreeable nature. A matter of picking your battles. He already knew there would be one ahead when he had to convince her to stay put. So far she absolutely refused to be left alone for more than a handful of minutes.

Pebbles crunched underneath their feet as they started the journey down. The path had clearly seen more traffic recently; it had been trampled too thoroughly for the remote, inaccessible route it ought to be and had broadened into the thicket where the terrain allowed for it, meaning where the edge of the path did not simply end in a steep drop. Ahead Fenris could already see the first cave on this side of the mountain. It turned out to be little more than an alcove in the rock but plenty more dark openings revealed themselves as they progressed. One of those would be perfect to hide in for the rest of the day.

A bird's call cut through the sounds of their gradual descent. Fenris halted abruptly, tilting his head to look up. The sky appeared deserted, barring a couple of friendly-looking, white cumulus clouds. The presence of birds could hardly be called anything out of the ordinary. After all, they were not bothered by even the steepest, most treacherous obstacles. There were species who had made mountains their home. Fenris possessed not the slightest knowledge about birds and had no idea what species those could be, nor what they sounded like, and yet the sense of alarm he immediately felt upon hearing the call refused to abate. Since he had left the shore and its seagulls behind there had been no sign of birds until this moment. Coincidence perhaps, but being quick to dismiss suspicious signs as mere chance was a dangerous thing. The birds could be hiding in the trees, but...

"Venhedis," the curse was sharp despite not being raised above a whisper.

For a second sunlight revealed something shiny, made it shimmer through the trees on the path higher up. Then it was gone again. A surface that reflected light so brightly almost had to be metal. Metal that moved could only be two things: armor or a weapon.

He grabbed Rebekkah by the arm and pulled her forward. "Run!"

She let out a squeak but did her best to keep up with the demand. She had little choice with the elf dragging her along. Again the call of a bird sounded behind them, longer, more urgently. A reply came from lower down the mountain.

Watchmen this high up... The slavers were extremely cautious, much more so than the group in Ostwick. He was willing to bet his left hand that they had been warned about the attack on the ship and prepared accordingly. This was going to be difficult.

He pulled Rebekkah off the path into the cover of pine trees in case one of the watchmen carried a bow. Branches with sharp needles dragged across the skin of his arms and face as he dove into the thicket and continued down the steep slope. He soon had to seek support with his free hand to prevent both himself and the child from tumbling forward. Twice he was yanked back because his cloak got tangled, so he took it off and stuffed it in the pack he carried over one shoulder. Keeping a firm grip on Rebekkah's arm, he descended down the slope from tree trunk to tree trunk until the slope went from a steep diagonal to a vertical drop.

Fenris looked over his shoulder but saw no movement through the pine trees. His mind worked to form a strategy. Plan B and C used to be "run away" and "stand and fight" respectively, perhaps more often the other way around since meeting Hawke. Neither were perfectly suited for this moment, however. There were unlikely to be more than one or two watchmen behind them. Taking them out and retreating back up the mountain should prove fairly easy but would complicate his aim to free the captives and kill the slavers. Had the slavers been cautious before, they would be on high alert from here on. Delaying now would give them the opportunity to further tighten security or even start relocating their living cargo. He had no desire to chase them all the way to Tevinter. A frontal assault, on the other hand, was certain to end in disaster as well. No matter the exact number of enemies, he could not face the entire group at once. He had to pick them off one by one or in small groups at most. Strike when unseen.

Now he could hear running footsteps higher up. Not near yet but getting closer.

There was no other way except onward. He refused to turn tail and flee. He had to gamble on the caves providing the opportunities he needed.

He dropped to one knee, bringing himself to eye-level with Rebekkah. "Get on my shoulders," he said quickly. "Be careful you don't hurt yourself on the blade. We're going further down."

Large, tear-filled eyes stared back at him. "But..."

"There's no time for debate. Climb on my shoulders and hold on tight."

A fresh set of tears slid along the already moist tracks on her cheeks. The girl's bottom lip quivered but then she nodded and did as he asked. With her spindly legs around his neck and her fingers clutching the edge of his cloak, Fenris lowered himself over the edge. He looked down, searching for a route that was least likely to end in a painful plummet. About fifteen feet below awaited the next patch of the path. Deep enough to break his legs at the very least if he fell.

With his right hand he reached for a large protrusion and pulled at it to test its sturdiness. When he was certain it would remain in place he transferred his weight and looked for a lower point for his left hand. Finding proper foothold was more difficult. With Rebekkah on his shoulders his view was restricted and though she did not weigh much, the child did make him top-heavy and put him off-balance. He had to keep himself pressed close to the rock wall while his toes scraped over cool stone in search of support. Once he had repositioned both feet as well he repeated the entire process of finding the next spot to hold onto, test whether it was secure and transferring his weight to it. He did not pause, moved as fast as he dared. The slavers could not catch up to him while he was vulnerable and incapable of defending himself. While he climbed he listened for signs of the enemy's approach. Above Rebekkah's frightened, staccato breathing he occasionally caught the odd fragment of voices, as well as the ever-nearing footsteps.

Despite the treacherous climb, the risks he was taking and the dangers that still awaited, Fenris felt no fear. Instead his mind was clear, focused like when entering battle. There was no use thinking about what would happen if he dropped, if they were spotted, if the ground opened up and swallowed them. He simply concentrated on making it down the mountain, on what was to be his next move. Rebekkah stayed pressed against the back of his head during the entire descent, letting out soft, high-pitched cries or whimpers whenever the elf moved too fast to her liking. When a protrusion of rock gave way under his foot and he slipped she clung to him so firmly that he was having trouble breathing.

Eventually Fenris' feet found solid ground again. Above them the slavers' footsteps had passed without pausing. None of the watchers had thought to abandon the path and look down.

Fenris bowed to allow Rebekkah to slip from his shoulders. After taking a moment to wipe the dust and sand off his cut and chafed hands he took the girl by the arm again, setting off down the path. Her first couple of steps were stiff and awkward but with each one she seemed to shake off her fear a little more. Soon enough she tried her best to keep up with him again.

He kept an eye out for a suitable hiding spot, a cave where he could wait for the watchmen to pass by and attack them from behind. A place where Rebekkah could stay while he dealt with the enemy. A little girl was no asset in a fight. He should not have given in and allowed her to come down the mountain with him, should have insisted she waited in the cave they had spent the previous night in. Void take him and his foolishness!

Farther ahead a promising-looking dark gap in the rock became visible in the mountain side. It seemed very narrow but if a larger space lay hidden behind it, it could be worthwhile to try and squeeze—

The cry of a bird resounded right above them, long and high-pitched, echoing through the valley. Fenris' first thought was that their pursuers were on their tail again already, but when he looked up it was undoubtedly the sharp silhouette of an actual bird of prey circling under the clouds. He was not certain himself why the clear outline of the animal against the sky made him quicken his pace even more. His pack bounced on his left hip every few strides. Rebekkah tripped, unable to keep up, but the warrior's iron grip around her arm kept her upright and hoisted back on her feet.

In front of the gap Fenris stopped. It was indeed the entrance to a cave, barely wide enough for the average human but easy to slip through for a child or an elf.

"In here." He nudged the girl for emphasis.

She clambered through the opening without protesting. Either the urgency of the situation ensured her obedience or she was simply too out of breath to voice objections or questions. Fenris immediately went in after her. He had to sidle sideways to fit, but fortunately the entrance was the narrowest part and the cave did widen a little further in. Although, "cave" might be a generous term for the cramped space they found themselves in. The hole was about the size of a fairly large closet. The amount of loose rocks and debris in the back made Fenris suspect that the cave had originally been larger but had gotten filled up as the result of a collapse in this part of the mountain.

Rebekkah pressed herself against his side as much as was possible with his pack in the way between them. He felt her small, clammy hand fumble until she found his fingers and could hold on to them.

Before he had time to decide whether it would be appropriate to pray to the Maker that they would not be spotted and cornered like rats, he heard the bird of prey again. And again. Its cries did not sound like it was flying away from them. In fact, it sounded like the animal remained very nearby.

With Rebekkah's fingers still curled around his he leaned to the right to look outside. The bird had ceased its lazy circles high up in the air. Now it was flying lower, back and forth above the path, taking sharp turns to cover the same area every time. Halfway through, exactly above the cave where Fenris and Rebekkah were hiding, the bird made a dive, then swooped back up, turned and repeated the same action.

"We have to go." Gripping the child's hand he wrestled himself out of the cave and ran.

He did not have to know much about birds to understand that this did not qualify as normal behavior. The cursed animal was giving their location away. There was no chance of ambushing their pursuers if said pursuers knew exactly where they were hiding. He was forced to stay in the role of hunted prey.

Fenris sprinted off the path as soon as the terrain allowed for it, seeking cover with the trees once more. He had little hope of losing the bird this way, which had let out another warning screech when they had emerged from the cave and was circling above them again, but it would keep them out of direct sight of the watchmen for longer.

This section of vegetation was smaller than the previous one they had cut through. Within a dozen steps awaited another steep descent.

"Are we going to climb again?" Rebekkah asked with a fearful look down.

Fenris' gaze went over the area below. What he could see of the path was deserted. If reinforcements were on their way up they were still a while away. "No," he said after a moment of hesitation. "We're going this way."

He guided her away from the edge, then pressed on so they were moving parallel to the cliff. He did not have to look up to know the bird was still there. Climbing was too dangerous with that creature hovering near. If it attacked them while he was trying to climb down it would be a miracle if neither of them ended up falling. Even then that success was likely negated by getting his eyes pecked out by razor-sharp beak and claws.

Before the path wound back in the opposite direction, Fenris halted to check for movement below. Still no sign of slavers. He quickly rounded the berth with Rebekkah and ran on. This section was more narrow, left no room to leave the path. Soaring above, well out of reach, the bird of prey made its call heard for the fourth time.

Rebekkah was having more and more trouble to keep up. She got on the verge of tripping more frequently and only remained upright thanks to Fenris' hold on her. Her breathing had become louder and more labored and sounded like she was struggling for air. If he had not been so busy running Fenris could have kicked himself for relenting and agreeing to bring her along. All it had accomplished was bringing her in more danger when she could have been safe days ago.

To the girl's credit she did keep running, did not ask him to slow or stop. They made it to the next bend, made it just a little farther down the mountain. If his estimate was wrong and there were no reinforcements on their way up he would have to stop this mad dash at some point. He could not let a bird chase him all the way into the slavers' camp.

At the next group of trees Fenris stopped to check for enemies again. One hand against the bark of the nearest tree, he leaned forward but he did not have to look. Already he heard the heavy stomping of footsteps, the puffing of deep breaths. As if summoned by his earlier thoughts, five people were making their way up the mountain, all carrying weapons.

Fenris drew back to stay out of their sight but the traitorous bird of prey let out its warning scream and made a dive, shearing past the trees he was standing under. He caught a glimpse of the slavers looking up before he turned away, intending to retreat to a more advantageous position higher up the path where he could fight them one at a time. Yet he froze in place after a single step, right hand wrapped around the hilt of his blade.

On the path stood a human woman, calm and unperturbed as a statue. He was not certain what the strangest about her appearance was: that she seemed to have materialized behind him out of thin air or the fact that she was completely nude. Her long, honey-colored hair made no mentionable contribution to preserving any semblance of modesty, but she did not appear to mind. Fenris hesitated — his arm still bent behind his head, ready to draw his sword — and tried to decide what threat she could pose. The most logical assumption was that she belonged with the slavers but she was clearly unarmed; her hands hung relaxed by her sides.

Their eyes met briefly while he still searched for a reason for her presence. He could not see what color they were but her gaze was sharp as an—

His eyes shot up at the sky.

There was no trace of the bird.

Realization struck, but it struck too late. When he looked back at the woman, her thin lips curled into a smile that did not bare her teeth. He drew the blade from his back at the same time she raised her arms in the air.

There was no time to interrupt the spell. She had already finished the hand gestures needed for her magic by the time he had crossed half the distance between them. Before his eyes she changed. Her face became broader, the forehead taller and flatter while the nose grew longer, wider, and her eyes turned black. Muscles rippled and bulged, expanding and shifting to realign in a new position before thick, brown fur sprouted all over and concealed her nudity. The previously harmless, slender hands grew wider, the space between fingers smaller as their nails stretched into deathly claws. In a manner of seconds she had transformed into something completely unrecognizable.

"Get back!" Fenris pushed Rebekkah off the path, then gripped his sword with both hands. "Stay behind the trees!"

The bear shook its massive head as if to check everything was in order with its new form, spread its maw to reveal a set of impressive teeth, roared for good measure, and charged.

He jumped aside at the last moment so the bear thundered past him and lashed his blade across the creature's rump. An ordinary human would have been reduced to his knees by a blow like that but the shapeshifter's transformation must have allowed her to shed everything human. For such a large, lumbering animal, the bear was swift to come to a stop and spin around for a second attack.

Fenris had only ever witnessed this type of magic once before, when the mysterious witch Hawke had owed a debt of gratitude to had turned into a dragon and flown off from Sundermount. Prior to that it had been an ability which was dismissed by the magisters as barbaric and ultimately without purpose. They were far too attached to their own appearance to exchange it for that of a snake or spider, no matter how fitting that would be. If they knew it was possible to assume the form of a dragon they would likely change their minds.

Perhaps he should be grateful that this mage had not mastered the power to become a dragon either. As it was, he narrowly avoided getting his arm bitten off, managed to evade the strong jaws with another sideways jump. He raised his sword for a downward blow but the bear seemed aware of the danger of having its skull cleaved and threw its head to the side. Fenris was brought off-balance and stumbled when he was hit in the side. Forced to break off his attack, he danced back to avoid the snapping teeth against which his leather attire would prove no match.

The bear seemed determined to keep the warrior on the defensive and swiped at him with one mighty paw. Again he evaded and chanced a counter attack in return. His sword struck the dense fur on the left shoulder. Although the animal roared in pained rage at that, it did not accomplish much else. Thick layers of skin, fat and muscle offered protection almost as good as armor forged by a blacksmith. It would take a lot for the bear to succumb to its injuries and bleed out, while any successful blow to Fenris could mean his end. Caution was key; stay away from the claws and maw, exploit what advantage he had in speed and agility and wait for opportunities to strike.

There was an obvious downside to that tactic of patience, however, which soon announced itself.

"Fenris, watch out!" Rebekkah shrieked from the woefully insufficient protection of the trees. "They're coming!"

The party he had seen on the path below had made it to his section of the path. None of their faces, glistening with beads of sweat on temples and forehead after the uphill trek, showed no surprise at the bear's presence, nor reluctance to join the animal in the fight.

"Try to keep him alive!" the man in the center barked as he gestured with his mace in the elf's direction. "Yusran will want to know if this is the scum that wrecked his ship and released his guests."

So word from the captain from Ostwick had indeed reached them first. Hence the alertness and watchmen positioned so far from their base. No surprise there, simply unfortunate.

"That was me." Fenris backed away from the bear, which seized on the momentary distraction that was the arrival of its allies by trying to knock the sword from his hands. "No need to keep me alive for that."

"Mighty good of you to clear that up," the slaver mocked. "We'll make you pay for that!"

Fenris kept his eyes trained on the beast, addressing the slavers almost absent-mindedly. "We shall see."

"The balls on that scrawny knife-ear!" another shouted. "Let's get him!"

The bear let out a rumbling roar in what Fenris guessed to be agreement.

With five fighters present he doubted he could afford it to focus on the shapeshifter long enough to take her out first. From uneven the odds had shifted to highly disadvantageous. He risked a glance at Rebekkah to remind himself of her location. He did not dare retreat too far, lest the slavers decided to capture her.

Forward then. He sprinted past the bear to the human foes. None of them were very heavily armored and his blade pierced the protective materials of the one woman in the group — not counting the mage — with ease. Her eyes widened with the shocked disbelief so characteristic for those who could not believe their life had just been ended. Fenris did not watch her gaze go empty or her body drop to the ground, had to spin out of the path of the leader's spiked mace, obviously intended to shatter multiple ribs to splinters. He moved to the side as far as the path allowed so he had the mountain on his left and could not be surrounded in every direction. Yet instead of closing in, two of the slavers stepped back to leave a space generous enough to fit—

"The bear! The bear!"

Good as her intentions might be, he wished Rebekkah had kept quiet and not drawn attention to herself. He hardly would have missed the massive brown animal running toward him in another charge. Even then he was barely fast enough to get out of the way, however. The bear missed him by a hair's breadth and skidded to a halt in front of the rock wall.

He struck before the bear had the chance to turn around, dealing an injury to its flank, then returned his attention to the human slavers. They avoided his sweeping attack, allowing the elf to slip out of their half-circle and keep others between himself and the shapeshifter.

A foe fumbled his parry and paid dearly for it. Without slowing Fenris took on the next, shoving the group's leader toward the bear when it tried to get closer again. One, two more blows and the third slaver fell before him.

That did leave him with fewer obstacles to shield him from the beast, the two remaining men stepping aside with ease to make room. Just when the beast came him again he saw what he had feared: the slavers headed for Rebekkah.

The bear reared itself on its hind legs, towering above him at a height of almost two men. There was nothing he could do but jump out of the way as to not get crushed by the sheer weight of his opponent. Ahead he heard cursing, threats and commands to get within reach when Rebekkah clambered farther down.

"Venhedis!" The whoosh of air brushed past his arms, yet another narrow escape from a deathly claw. If they took the girl they would have him pinned for blackmail, but currently there was a bear very much in the way. Even if he had been the fastest man in Thedas, he would still be utterly incapable of outrunning it. Dashing away in a mad sprint meant certain death.

The shapeshifter growled, displaying a glimpse of its long canines. Blood coated the reddish brown fur where his blade had struck but the animal still looked lively enough. Either he had to kill it very quickly now or find a way to incapacitate it somehow, at least briefly...

No shortage of mad ideas lately. Keeping his sword firmly in one hand, Fenris blindly felt for his pack, eyes not leaving the cursed predator, which was staring back at him with at least as much suspicion. It obviously decided not to wait for what he was trying to dig up and swatted at his weapon to disarm, simultaneously launching forward to bite the elf's face off. Having counted on such a tactic, Fenris spun to the right. During the movement he ripped the cloak he had stuffed in his pack earlier, free. The dark green woolen fabric spread out in the air with his speed. He released the cloak, aimed it as best he could.

And saw it land on the bear's head, over the eyes.

Scarcely able to believe it had worked, he bolted uphill. This action would buy him a few precious seconds at most. It had to suffice.

Only the mace-wielding leader of the party was still standing on the path, next to the trees. No sign of his comrade, nor of Rebekkah. The man saw Fenris coming and assumed a defensive stance but the elf was not of a mind to deal a blow that could be blocked. Rather than slowing, he utilized his speed for a jump, flinging his arms up to maximize the force of his attack. Although the slaver attempted to dodge, there was no evading the broadsword that came crashing down on him. He died in an instant, his skull cleaved in two.

Fenris pulled his weapon free from the man's head and hastily wrestled past the pine trees. once he got to the edge, h finally spotted Rebekkah and the missing slaver. The child had climbed down the rocks to avoid her pursuer, who, by the looks of it, had just surrendered himself to the fact that he would not get to her unless he climbed too and was tentatively lowering himself to the next ledge.

"Andraste's sweet bosom, girl! Just get over here! No need to make this hard, damn it."

His persuasion attempt failed miserably. Rebekkah sidled to the left, putting more distance between them. "Go away!"

The man grunted and searched for a way to safely reach her. He was so preoccupied with this that he did not notice the elf above him.

Fenris wasted no time. Holding on to the nearest tree with one hand, he stomped on the man's head. Although barefoot, his kick took the slaver by complete surprise and made him lose his footing. Arms mowing wildly, the man plummeted to the path below. He hit the ground with a sickening thud, his shrill scream masking what had to be the sound of breaking bones.

Before Fenris had the chance to assure Rebekkah was alright, wood splintered behind him. The bear had freed itself from his cloak and was trying to maul him with its claws. The tree that had saved his life toppled over in a cloud of pine needles and splinters and nearly landed on his head. With an enraged roar the animal raised itself on its hind legs, clearly determined to crush the elf now he had nowhere to go.

They acted in the same moment; the bear slammed down, maw spread wide. Fenris drove his sword up. Its own mass pinned the shapeshifter down, made the sword bury deeper and deeper. From the imposing maw came a whimpering noise that sounded much more human than what befitted something with teeth that large.

Fenris' arms strained, his knees buckled. That the bear was leaning with its entire weight on his blade could easily prove fatal for both of them. Claws with nails of at least two inches raked over his left arm, leaving bloody welts. His legs gave out and he fell back, hit a tree instead of dropping over the edge, prepared for the full weight of the dead bear crashing down on him—

Something did land on top of him, but it was so much lighter than the massive animal that it might as well be weightless. Fenris opened his eyes, unaware that he had closed them during his fall. For a second he only saw honey-blond hair. Then he looked further, to the bloodied blade he was still holding upright, fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt. There was no bear pinned to it. Only a small, naked, and very human, woman.

In her death the mage had returned to her true form.

Tension flooded from his muscles. He could not quite decide if he had just been extremely fortunate to survive this encounter or unfortunate to have found the one slaver who could turn herself into a murderous animal.

"Fenris?" a small voice asked somewhere below him. "Are you alive?"

"I am," he grunted. He pushed the mage's corpse aside, let it slide off his sword, grimacing at the pain flaring up in his arm, and hauled himself to his feet.

Rebekkah was still clinging to the rocks. Relief broke through on her face upon seeing him appear on the ledge but was quickly overtaken by worry. "Is the bear-woman gone?"

"They all are. You can come up now."

He gave her a hand once she got close enough and pulled her up. Together they returned to the path, Rebekkah staring with fascination at the bodies of the mage and the slaver's leader. Fenris craned his neck and looked at the mountain slope above. The two watchmen had not joined the fighting. Either they were still too far behind or they had opted to escape. Whichever the case, he could not tarry. There was no use to go back up to hunt for them now — they would see him long before he could spot them. Lying in wait for them was possible again now there was no longer a bird flying around to betray his location, but that would be a waste of time if the watchmen had decided not to descend farther. All in all it was better to keep going.

"You're hurt." Rebekkah squeaked.

Awkwardly he raised and twisted his left arm to investigate the wounds the bear had inflicted. Four deep cuts ran down from his shoulder, blood welling up from each of them. No way around using a potion this time. These were too serious to treat with elfroot leaves alone, especially with the battle still ahead of him. "It's nothing a potion won't treat."

Switching his sword to his left hand so he could search unhindered by pain, he rummaged around in his pack while Rebekkah wandered away to stare at the corpses.

Time for a quick drink. He uncorked the flask with his teeth and knocked the potion back. The pain subsided immediately, dulling almost reluctantly. When Fenris inspected the wounds again, the bleeding had slowed considerably. The cuts had not healed as effectively and thoroughly as they would have with healing magic but they had been reduced to more shallow scratches.

He crouched beside the body of the slaver with a mace, quickly wiped most of the blood on his blade off on the man's clothes so it could be returned to its trusted place on his back, then searched the man's pockets. He found a single healing potion but nothing else.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, straightening. "Put that down."

Rebekkah had picked up a one-handed sword and looked back at him with a, by now, familiar combination of guilt and stubbornness. "I want a sword too."

"For what?"

"To fight the bad people! I can help you."

He found his cloak farther down the path and picked it up. It was shredded from the bear's attempts to get it off but it could still offer some warmth. "We've had this discussion. You can't properly lift that, let alone wield it."

The blade's tip was poking in the ground already and yet the child persisted. "I need a sword! You're bad and keep getting your arms hurt. I'll help you."

"I fail to see what you would have contributed to a fight against five grown humans and a bear," he countered . "You did well to climb away from those men. Had you tried to attack them instead, there are only two ways that could have ended, neither of which would have seen you victorious. Now put that down. We should move on."

She started walking, nose turned upward as if she was a lady of high birth, sword dragging through the sand alongside her.

For two, three seconds Fenris watched her, sorely tempted to rob her of her useless weapon and drag her down the mountain. Then, with a noise of disgust, he went after her. "Fine. Take this and leave that useless thing behind." He handed her Hawke's old knife. "Careful you don't cut yourself with it. And do not even think of using it until there are at least three bears and a dragon."