(Today is a double update, because posting only the previous chapter as a full update would have been evil. If you just clicked the "most recent chapter" button to get here, click the "previous chapter" button now. You'll see what I mean.
Back? Ok, let's continue.)
28. Matters of Honor and Glory
Marnan awoke feeling much as she usually did after spending a night carousing with the Warriors: an ache in her head, a foul taste in her mouth, and some new bruises that indicated she'd probably fallen flat on her face at one point.
She opened her eyes and sat up. Above her stretched the night sky, still so dazzlingly strange to the dwarf. Around her were the twilit ruins of Ostagar… sprinkled with the prone bodies of her new comrades.
Well, most of them were prone, anyway. Percival's pale figure knelt beside Daveth's body, and Alistair crouched over him with a hand on his shoulder. They were speaking quietly… though Marnan could not make out what was being said. Perhaps some kind of benediction or prayer?
Duncan moved around the ruin, checking on the rest of them for signs of life. Some of the others were stirring. Finian was mumbling fretfully like a child caught in a nightmare, and the casteless groaned and rolled over as Marnan watched. The mages were both still out cold, and she couldn't tell the Dalish elf's state from here.
"Ah, good, you're awake," Duncan said, reaching down to help Marnan to her feet. "How do you feel?"
"A bit like I just spent a night sampling something a fair bit stronger than mosswine."
Duncan chuckled, the relief of having the ritual done evident on his face. "I daresay I can't imagine one of your background getting quite so…"
"Drunk?" Marnan smiled, feeling some of that relief herself. "You have obviously never been a dwarven warrior."
Then, it hit her. The Joining was over… she was a Grey Warden now. A Grey. Warden. One of the most honorable vocations that any being—be they human, dwarf, elf, or nug—could take on.
She looked at her hands, as if they might have somehow transformed to reflect the change. She didn't feel particularly different, really, but she knew she was. Whatever they had drunk—darkspawn blood included—had made them darkspawn-killers to the core. They had been stuffed in the forge and shaped, and now it was only a matter of time until it could be discovered what sort of weapons they might become.
"Sodding Stone," the duster's voice groaned. "Who let a nug burrow into my head?"
Marnan scowled, recalling that the casteless wretch was also a Grey Warden now. A blatant criminal, being afforded such an honor… oh well. As he'd pointed out often enough, they were equals now. She just had to tolerate him, and try to fight as far away from him as possible.
Duncan crossed the ruin to help Brosca to his feet, and Marnan wandered over to where the other two humans were kneeling. Only as she got closer did she realize that what was being said was no benediction.
"…all die, Alistair. Every last one. Finian will be next, just you wait, or Duncan. And then the rest of you…"
Marnan shivered, because the human's voice was as empty as it was soft.
"Easy, Percival," Alistair whispered soothingly. "You're just a bit upset."
"You don't know." Percival shook his head, and, when Marnan could properly see his face, she saw that his eyes were as cold and lost as his voice. "You can't know. How everyone… all of them…"
"Death is a necessary consequence in war," Marnan said, and those deadened eyes turned up to her.
Percival blinked, and suddenly his face contorted with anger so intense that Marnan was taken aback. "Don't speak to me of 'necessary consequence'." He stood abruptly, pulling away from Alistair's comforting hand. "You may know war, dwarf… but I have a more-than-passing acquaintance with murder. Death is never necessary, and I sure as the Void am not going to just sit and accept it." With a spin of his heel, the blond man stalked off into the night.
"Oh dear…" Finian's voice said softly from nearby. He looked wryly at Marnan in the firelight, still lying on the ground. "That's the sort of thing I was hoping to prevent."
"You'd better go after him or something," Alistair sighed.
"I will… in a minute… when I can sit up without retching." Finian paused, taking a deep breath. "All I can say is I've had lichen ale that sat better than this."
"Is that some sort of dig at the spirits of my people?" Marnan asked.
"No, it's a dig at lichen ale."
Marnan considered that, then shrugged. "Fair enough. And for what it's worth, I'd agree."
Felicity's prone form let out a groan then, reaching a hand up to rub her face.
"I'm glad most of you made it," Alistair said, standing up. "At my Joining there was one death. It was… horrible."
"I can't believe you stabbed him!" Felicity's voice cried, and she sat up.
Duncan's response was gentle, but firm. "It was necessary. Ser Jory knew that there would be no turning back once the ritual had begun."
"But… you stabbed him!"
"What," Brosca scoffed, "you'd rather have the whole 'Grey Wardens are Taint-twisted, and that's why they're so good at killing darkspawn' secret come out?"
"Ser Jory… probably wouldn't have told."
"When he went for his blade," said Duncan, "he left me no choice. I'm sorry."
Kazar started thrashing around. When sparks started dancing from his hands in his sleep, everyone stood up in alarm.
"Someone slap him awake, or something," Alistair suggested. "Hopefully before he kills us all in his sleep."
"On it," the duster said. He leaned over the elf and smirked, and Marnan turned away, because she really didn't want to know what devious way the criminal was going to wake the mage.
Instead, Marnan walked over to where Meila still lay, senseless.
"She'll probably take a bit longer to recover than the rest of us," Felicity's voice said, and the healer appeared beside her. "After all, she did not have many energy reserves before the ritual, because of her sickness."
"But she will recover?"
"Almost assuredly." Felicity cast Marnan a smile. "She survived the Taint for that long, after all… I don't see why a bit of darkspawn blood now should give her any trouble."
Behind them, Kazar awoke loudly with a sputter and a crack of lightning. A moment later, Garott burst out laughing. Marnan rolled her eyes.
"Everyone, it is finished," Duncan said. "Welcome to the Grey Wardens."
"I feel special already," Brosca chuckled.
"What was with those dreams?" Kazar sat up, rubbing his head. "I've had less disturbing dreams when literally fighting a demon in the Fade."
"Kazar!" Felicity hissed, for some reason. He made a face over at her.
"Such dreams come when you begin to sense the darkspawn," Duncan explained. "As we all do. That, and many other things, can be explained in the months to come."
"Before I forget… there is one last part to the Joining." Alistair moved to the table where they had first put the cup. Now, there was a stack of something glittery and metallic. Alistair held up a piece of the pile to reveal a black pendant on a silver chain. "We take some of the blood and put it in a pendant. Something to remind us… of those who didn't make it this far."
There was a moment of silence while he passed the pendants out, while everyone reflected on the deaths of Daveth and Jory.
"Take some time, all of you, and rest up," Duncan said softly. "Tomorrow will be a long day for all of us."
There were nods all around, and several of the new Wardens started off. Felicity drafted Alistair into carrying Meila back to camp, and Finian took the last pendant, to deliver to Percival.
"Marnan," Duncan's voice said, before the dwarf could head off to a much-needed bedroll. She turned expectantly. "If you are up to it, I'd like you to accompany me to a meeting with the king."
"What makes her so special?" Kazar could be heard muttering, but then the mage had disappeared into the darkness.
"Of course, Duncan. I'd be honored."
He nodded, and motioned for her to follow him. She fell in step behind him and to the side, as she would have any commanding officer back home. And that's what he was, now that she was a full-fledged Warden.
They wound their way down a slope, and a candlelit table appeared in the darkness, surrounded by a cluster of figures.
"…Loghain, my decision is final," a golden figure was saying as they approached. He was wearing what was obviously largely ceremonial armor. He must be the human king, then. "I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault."
"You risk too much, Cailan," argued a darker man in darker armor. As Duncan and Marnan rounded the table to take the free place on its other side, Marnan could see that there were heavy bags under his eyes. "The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines."
"If that's the case, perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us, after all."
The darker man, Loghain, stiffened. "I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we need the Orlesians to defend ourselves!"
Ah, politics. How Marnan had missed being stuck in the middle of it.
The pair argued a bit more about the current state of the forces, and Marnan deduced that this Loghain was some sort of general or tactician, and likely far more experienced than the much younger king.
Then, once the king had made his point rather succinctly, he turned to the Wardens. "Duncan, are your men ready for battle?"
"They are, your majesty."
"And this is one of your new recruits? I understand congratulations are in order."
Marnan bowed. "Thank you, your majesty."
"Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan," Loghain sneered. "We must attend to reality."
"Fine," the king snapped. "Speak your strategy." He unfurled a map onto the table in front of him. "The Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our lines. And then…?"
"You will alert the tower to light the beacon," Loghain said, pointing to a spot on the map. "Signaling my men to charge from cover."
A flank? Marnan was intrigued, remembering the battle down in the Deep Roads that had so efficiently routed them after such a maneuver.
"To flank the darkspawn, I remember," the king said with impatience. "This is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? Who shall light this beacon?"
"I have a few men stationed there. It's not a dangerous task, but it is vital."
"Then we should send our best." Marnan could already see the tactician's displeasure at what was to come next. "Send Alistair and some of the new Grey Wardens to make sure it is done." The king smiled at her.
Marnan stiffened. "I cannot speak for the others, but I would personally prefer to fight in the battle, your majesty."
"Of course… we need not have all of you climb the tower. The rest of you may join in the battle with me."
Marnan thought over that, looking at the map. It illustrated a line of the king's main forces, front and center across the gorge. Off to the side, hidden in the Wilds, were the forces that she assumed to belong to this Loghain man.
"May I offer a suggestion, your majesty?"
King Cailan smiled. "Of course. I'd be happy to hear anything a Grey Warden brings to the table."
"Take the flank…" she pointed to the marker for Loghain's men, and then crossed the gorge to its mirror position on the other side. "…and change it into a pincer. We'd have a much better chance of catching the lieutenants and emissaries near the back if we come at them from both sides."
"That will not be necessary-" Loghain began.
The king interrupted: "I think it's an excellent idea!"
Duncan cast a curious eye down at her. "You are thinking of placing the rest of the new Wardens there? Just the handful of you?"
Marnan faced her commander's doubt with confidence. "Kazar Surana alone could absolutely decimate the horde… but he won't get a clear shot if he's stuck behind a line of knights and mabari hounds. Put him behind the enemy, with the advantage of surprise, and then clip his leash… I am certain that will make the difference.
The smile the king flashed her was brilliant as the sun. "You must have quite a bit of experience under your belt. I assume you will be leading them?"
Marnan bowed her head respectfully. "If that is your majesty's wish."
"It's settled then. My forces will draw the charge. Then, when the beacon is lit, the forces of Loghain and… oh, how daft of me. I'm afraid I never caught your name."
"Marnan, your majesty."
The king blinked, and then smiled in a way that told her he very much recognized it. "Stone met, Marnan. Loghain's and Marnan's forces will leave hiding when the beacon is lit and charge the back of the horde."
"You rely on these Grey Wardens too much!" Loghain protested, glaring at Marnan. "Is that truly wise?"
"Enough of you conspiracy theories, Loghain," the kings said with exasperation.
"Your majesty," Duncan broke in. "You should consider the possibility of the archdemon appearing."
"There are no signs of any dragons in the Wilds," Loghain protested. Marnan was beginning to grow rather annoyed with this man. A little tactical caution, she could understand, but he obviously flat-out distrusted the Grey Wardens!
"Isn't that what your men are here for, Duncan?" the king said.
"I…" Duncan looked like he wanted to protest, then settled on, "Yes, your majesty."
At this point, a new voice broke in, and Marnan recalled that there were more than the four of them at the table.
"Your majesty, the tower and its beacon are unnecessary," said a gaunt, bald man wearing mage robes. "The Circle of Magi-"
"We will not trust any lives to your spells, mage!" snapped another voice, this one belonging to an elderly woman in red and gold robes. Marnan understood that meant she was from the human Chantry. Marnan was rather glad she hadn't specifically mentioned that Kazar Surana—the lynchpin of her arm of the attack—was a mage.
"Enough!" Loghain cut in, taking command with the ease of experience. "This plan will suffice." Reluctance filled his tone as he relented. "The Grey Wardens will light the beacon and create a third arm behind the horde."
"Thank you, Loghain," said King Cailan. "I cannot wait for that glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battling beside the king of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil!"
Loghain, for his part, was already walking away. He paused to look over his shoulder. "Yes, Cailan. A glorious moment for us all."
Marnan shuddered. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something in Loghain's tone reminded her of Bhelen.
