The weary party crested the last hill along the imperial highway before Redcliffe just as the sun neared its highest point. Straggling farther behind than usual, Alistair took in the scenery; he found it hard to believe only a half-year had passed since he was last in Redcliffe. The light from overhead was uncomfortably warm for the first time in his recent memory, and a soft green had settled on the trees near the lake; Spring was slowly creeping in. Alistair reached a hand beneath his shirt breastplate almost absently, feeling for the small bundle he'd been carrying for two days. Spring, he realized, wouldn't be reaching Lothering any time soon; with the exception of a single rose he'd picked on the way from the village, the taint was likely already starting to ravage everything and everyone. Alistair couldn't quite say, even to himself, why he'd taken the flower; maybe it was a reminder of all he'd lost, and all still left worth fighting for.
Up ahead, the weathered spine of the watchtower jutted up from the burnished gold fields. Alistair felt the muscles along his spine squeeze for an instant; no one called out up ahead or came out to greet them. Aedan slowed his pace and gently help up a hand, as though sensing the same disquiet. Dog, who had been bounding enthusiastically without pause all morning, was fixed to Aedan's side; the whole of his body was still, tense, save the nearly imperceptible rotating of his small cupped ears. Leliana's fingers shot to her dagger; Morrigan tensed, rotating slowly in a half circle to scan their surroundings. "We are painfully exposed for miles; I cannot imagine your little knife will be of much use."
To her credit, Leliana only offered a gentle shrug. "Not every foe approaches in a manner so obviously detected."
Morrigan arched a feathery brow. "Well, perhaps your maker will warn you if that is the case."
Turning halfway around, Leliana merely graced her detractor with a serene smile. Morigan's outrage at being unable to rankle Leliana was openly apparent; Alistair loved it. He was just readying a sarcastic dig when a quelling look from his fellow warden said it was time for the exchange to end.
Aedan waved them off the road, through the highway's ancient debris of brick and mortar and into a low gully. In a matter of minutes, which Alistair thought felt doubly long trudging through the low wild growth, they gained the watch tower. His training taught he should look for weapons, allies, intruders or debris; it was what they didn't find as they surveyed the checkpoint that had Alistair feeling cold inside.
There were no soldiers, no bodies. Inside the one-room barracks and narrow kitchen space there were hardly any supplies to speak of. Save for some dirty cooking utensils in a bucket of murky water, it seemed the guards had simply packed up and left in the night.
Pointing toward the rear area of the tower, Aedan called out from the small enclave where the remains of cooking fire lay extinguished. "Alistair, you and Morrigan take a look around the outbuilding to the west; see if you can find any signs of what happened."
Picking his way through the low, narrow passage with Morrigan in tow, Alistair squinted in the daylight. He'd thought perhaps they could simply make their search in silence; her voice, light and provoking, dashed his hopes. "I have a wonder, Alistair...if you will indulge me."
"As if I have much choice. Go on, then."
"Of the two of you that remain, are you not the senior warden? And yet, here you are...deferring to a mere recruit. Is this the policy of your Gray Wardens?"
"What do you want to hear, that I prefer to follow? I do; being ignored has saved my life once or twice."
"My, so very defensive." She was openly laughing at him; Alistair thought in that moment if he didn't already hate Morrigan, the day wasn't far off. There was no trusting her in the beginning, and her lack of loyalty did nothing to sway his opinion.
"Crawl into a bush somewhere and die, thanks."
From behind, Aedan's commanding voice beckoned them back to the watch tower. Alistair was all to happy to leave Morrigan, turning on his heel without examining the dilapidated shack any further.
Aedan was studying the small yard beside the tower entrance, pointing to where indentations in the scrubby grass bathed by the afternoon sun betrayed places where gear and supplies had stood. Alistair could practically hear his friend's thoughts before the words were spoken. "Something isn't right here; we should speak with Arl Eamon immediately. Either his men deserted, or they were recalled."
Nodding slowly, Aedan turned around, and Alistair could see the haunted expression on his face. Moving close, so the women couldn't hear, he tried to offer Aedan some reassurance. Alistair thought the scene must have reminded Aedan of the stillness outside castle Cousland as he'd fled with Duncan, just as Alistair found himself reminded of the stillness at Flemmeth's hut after Ostagar. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm sure there's a harmless explanation...nothing like, well..."
"Thank you."
He wanted to apologize for the awkwardness of his reassurance, but before Alistair could find the words, it seemed as though the sun blinked in and out behind him; once, twice, and again. Aedan noticed it too, eyes squinting, shooting to the sky overhead. "What... is that?"
Following Aedan's stare, Alistair bridged one hand above his eyes and struggled to make out the shapes high overhead; Morrigan had their answer. "Rock crows."
His gut twisted as her lips formed the words, and Alistair watched the birds swirl and flap slowly in a lazy, terrifying circle. "They're waiting for something to die."
Morrigan looked at the deserted grounds around them. "Or some one, perhaps."
Reflexively Aedan shrugged his sword arm. "Let's get this over with."
Alistair barely had time to acknowledge the words before Aedan was loping off, north across the patchy ground, into the tall grass. Jogging beside him, Alistair saw Leliana cock her head. "That sound...what is it?"
Straining to hear over the pounding of his heart and feet, Alistair made out a discordant vibration on the air, first low and indistinct. To his disgust, Alistair found he was able to identify it by sight first; in the wide gully up ahead, a cloud of what he estimated were dozens of fat black flies buzzed frantically above something mangled in the tall grass. Just ahead, Aedan gagged a little, turning his face into a crooked arm; within seconds Alistair caught the wet, sweet putrid stench of newly decaying flesh hanging in the mid-day heat. Dog, some paces behind them, refused to come any closer; he alternated whines and growls, pacing anxiously to either side of Morrigan and Leliana without venturing nearer.
Striding forward, Alistair tried pulling long breaths in through his mouth, avoiding the odor. Rocking up on the balls of his feet, he peered over Aedan's shoulder, down into the grass; there wasn't much left to see. "Well, what ever has happened here, he's really gone to pieces over it."
Aedan turned his head slowly to face Alistair, cocking one brow at the jest; Alistair could only shrug. "C'mon, tell me you weren't already thinking the same thing." Kneeling down, Alistair studied the corpse more carefully. The majority of the remains were comprised of studded leather armor filled with protruding bones, covered in red fatty gobs crusting brown in the heat. Both arms and one leg from the knee down were missing entirely, gnaw marks betraying opportunistic predators. Leaning in, Aedan used the toe of his boot to roll the torso over, then swore through the exodus of more flies. Alistair too stared in disbelief, at last using his fingers to smooth the curling ends of the gray wool badge pinned to the chest piece. "By the Maker...it's one of Howe's men!" Alistair was stunned by the discovery.
Eyes flying up to Aedan's face, Alistair found him staring off toward the lake, and knew their thoughts traveled in the same direction. Aedan's solid frame belied a tension as he spoke. "We need to reach Redcliffe, immediately." As Alistair looked on, Aedan's face twisted almost into a sneer, and he spit hard onto the corpse before turning away. It was a small glimpse of his friend's anguish at the loss of his family, and Alistair felt all the more admiration that Aedan regularly put aside personal vengeance for the greater good of Ferelden.
Coming to his feet with a bounce, Alistair began to hurry after his fellow warden; it was Leliana's urgent call that stopped him.
"Wait! Some thing's not right. There is only one soldier here; hardly anything to suggest this place is in danger. And the crows...look." One of her slender fingers pointed overhead like an arrow. "Why haven't they landed to eat?" Turning, she waved her hand toward the north-west. "The grass over there is crushed; I think we should take a look."
To Alistair's surprise, Morrigan was uncharacteristically supportive. "I agree with her. No use will come of charging up to the village without knowing what it is we rush to find. It would be most wise to see what else may be discovered here."
Running toward them for the first time, Dog pranced in two or three anxious circles before Aedan, then sat down beside Leliana.
Aedan shook his head. "Looks like everyone has something to say about the situation. Alistair?"
"Leliana has a good point; crows don't typically pass up a meal unless they sense danger or difficulty. It can't hurt to see if we're missing something."
The glance Aedan cast over his shoulder was almost desperate; then, Alistair caught his sigh. "Alright. But let's be quick; I won't be completely at ease till we're in the village."
As they trudged up the small incline where Leliana had indicated, Alistair fought against the waves of panic in his chest. This was his home, all he had left after the loss of Duncan and his brother. It had taken every ounce of will, resisting the urge to turn and run for Redcliffe at breakneck speed upon the discovery of Howe's man. He realized tt couldn't have been any easier for Aedan, aware that the traitor's soldiers were so near.
Taking a final stride to the top of the slope, Alistair followed with his eyes a ragged path weaving down the other side, through the bright green waves of grass. Immediately his gaze was drawn to a body farther off; beside him, Aedan's arms came up, indicating a rough path with his outstretched finger. "Someone or something dragged the other corpse from here." They moved together with measured steps down the low hill, while Leliana and Morrigan waded through islands of long weeds in the wide, scrub-covered gully.
Not bothering to hide his disgusted grimace, Alistair crouched over the second body across from Aedan. "Less of this one left, if that's possible. And after only a day or two; I guess we have an idea how long the watchtower has been unoccupied."
Aedan responded with a slow, distracted nod; Alistair could almost see his mind turning things over, trying to make sense of what they were looking at. "The watch-post was abandoned; still, I would say Howe's soldiers were taken down by Redcliffe men...but for this." Aedan raised up on his haunches a little, using an index finger to lift the mangled chin of an eyeless skull. Using the same finger, he traced a line in the air above spongy flesh; finally, Alistair grasped his companion's meaning. Despite the ravages of heat and scavengers, the body showed no injuries from axe or sword. Only the soft, putrid flesh protected in the fold of the dead man's neck told the tale, with a crusted red-black line drawn almost from ear to ear.
Still crouched, Alistair rested back a little on his haunches. "Either Howe's soldiers are incredibly stupid, or they were surprised from behind. Maybe both; I like that better."
Before Aedan could reply, Leliana's shouts brought them to their feet.
"This one is still alive!"
Bolting forward, Alistair ran toward the women with Aedan at his shoulder, panting as he bit words through clenched teeth. "I'll be damned if I'm running for help to save an Amaranthine traitor!" When they'd cleared nearly half the distance, Alistair spied the booted foot protruding from the grass; it was not the boot of a soldier.
He bounded a few more strides, till he could see just beyond the clump of grass concealing the body; Alistair stopped so abruptly that Aedan was obliged to rest a hand on his back or trample him to the ground.
An ocean of matted red waves spilled out from the swaying stalks; fingers of fear, long and cold gripped at the guts in his belly with a slow twist. "No; Maker; no!"
His feet were moving under him suddenly, Alistair closing the space without knowing just how he reached the prone form in the weeds. Falling to his knees, Alistair curled fingers desperately into the clothing, grabbing a handful of fabric anywhere his hands could find slack. Tugging sharply, he turned the body as Leliana cradled its head. The breeze chilled; it seemed the sun was lost behind a cloud, and Alistair felt his blood lose all warmth. He could deny it was her, dismiss the appearance as coincidence; he could even ignore the sickening wave in his stomach until he saw Thera's face. There was blood, so much blood; brown streaks covered her face, each corner of her mouth lined with dried rivulets.
The front of her dress put him in mind of a butcher's apron; dark coppery blotches of varying saturation overlapped from the neckline to the hem of her skirt. Seeing her right side, Alistair winced, turning away a moment. The gray fabric bore a small hole, the size of an acorn, around which the fiber for some inches was nearly black. The blackness had a wet, sticky appearance, like an awful sort of tree sap. It was her blood, Alistair grasped with horror. Kept damp by her body and the ground, spoiled by the heat of the sun, it was no wonder carrion birds lingered at the smell, biding their time. Unconsciously, he groaned.
A bluish hue colored the skin around Thera's mouth and eyes; it was the color of death. Scooping her up, Alistair crushed Thera's lifeless body to his chest and rocked gently; it was more for his own benefit than anything. He'd lost so much already...Duncan, Cailen, his fellow wardens. Thera had been his reason to keep fighting, to do whatever was necessary to stop the Blight. The Chantry taught that the Maker had abandoned his creations, yet Leliana claimed to have heard his command. Fervently Alistair sent out a silent prayer in hopes she was right. Please, he begged wildly; please don't take Thera from me.
Leliana held a slender hand an almost imperceptible distance from Thera's face a moment, then met Aedan's concerned gaze. "She lives, for now; though, I am not certain she will see dusk. We need magic, strong healing magic."
"Morrigan, you have a little skill in that regard. Can you keep the girl alive until help can be brought?"
The lazy manner in which she shifted her posture at Aedan's query left Alistair wanting to scream.
"I am certain I have the ability; willingness, on the other hand..." Her eyes settled on him, and Alistair felt a rare surge of confrontational fury. "Perhaps just this once you could try being something other than a complete and utter bitch."
In a flash, Aedan's tall frame was between them, hands up, blocking Alistair's sight of Morrigan. "If Redcliffe is in danger, if Loghain has some designs here, we lose one of our best hopes for overcoming this blight. If this girl can tell us something and we allow her to perish, it's an enormous step back in our efforts."
After an agonizing moment, Alistair heard the weary, annoyed sigh. "Oh, very well. But I do this only because I too am curious about what has transpired here. Make no mistake about this being a favor." If her eyes could have found him through Aedan's body, Alistair knew he would have felt Morrigan's stare as she pronounced the word favor. Now, for certain, he hated her.
"Alistair and I will head for Redcliffe, and see if it's safe enough to get help."
Leliana slipped her arms beneath Thera's head and back, and as Alistair hesitantly relinquished his hold Aedan turned to extend an arm, helping him up. Looking back a moment at Thera, Alistair had to acknowledged what he'd been obliged to deny for so many years; he loved her. If she lived, if they both survived the Blight...
"Alistair, I can see this is important to you. I know the last thing you want to do is leave this girl here, but I need you. You know the village, and you're my fellow Gray Warden. I hate to ask you..."
He could say no, tell Aedan to take Dog or Leliana; the words were on his lips. After all, how could he leave Thera so soon after finding her again, when she hovered so perilously near the Fade. Then, he grasped what his friend had said, that he needed Alistair. They may not be brothers by blood, but they were brothers in arms; against virtually every ounce of his will, Alistair stepped away from her. "I will go to Redcliffe with you."
He could save her, Alistair reasoned, by leaving her behind. Just for now.
"We have a lot of ground to cover; let's go." Aedan's voice cut off his thoughts, but not his feelings; Alistair found they were what moved his feet toward Redcliffe when all he could think of was running back and holding Thera in his arms.