29. As the Crow Flies
We spend two nights in Montefort. That's my fault, mostly. The beds at the inn are the most comfortable thing I've slept on in my entire life, and I want to enjoy them a little longer. Even the beds at the palace in Denerim weren't this soft. I'm beginning to see where Orlesians get their reputation for luxury. I allow a sad smile as we leave, Alistair's voice echoing in my head: "We could go to Orlais, live in sin, and eat cake until the darkspawn catch up to us."
We spend a day planning our route. The fastest way to Weisshaupt means leaving the highway just past Ghislain and cutting cross-country "as the crow flies", as Zevran puts it. He traces the best route on a worn out map produced from his pack to give me a visual. He knows how horrible I am with geography. Fortunately, I didn't take him with me into the Brecilian Forest. He would never have let me live down getting lost-twice. I don't want to repeat that crossing the Fields of Ghislain. Especially considering there's only one major town, Perendale, between Ghislain and Weisshaupt, at least along our route. But after Zev drilling it into my head, I think I'll manage to not get lost.
oOo
It takes three days to reach Ghislain at our less-than-hurried pace. We have yet to see any sign of the people following us, which is making both Zev and me incredibly tense. He jokingly offers me a massage the second night out of Montefort and I just as jokingly inform him that if he tries it, he'll lose a hand. At least.
"My dear minx, you wound me." He affects an expression of wounded pride, but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away.
"That statement will become literal if you try anything, Arainai." I grin at him. "You can't fool me. I've known you too long."
"Ah, sad." He shakes his head in mock disappoinment. "Very well. I shall simply dream of Claire until it is my watch."
I shake my head as he disappears into his tent. "He never changes."
"Like he said before, would you want him to?" Jowan asks.
"No. Now get to sleep. The easier it is to wake you for your watch, the happier I'll be."
"Far be it from me to make you unhappy, m'lady," Jowan teases as he heads for his tent. The only reason I don't throw something at him is the lack of anything softer than a rock near at hand.
oOo
There are times things happen with such perfect, ironic timing they make you question the Chantry's claim that the Maker has abandon all involvement in human affairs. There are times events snynchronize so seamlessly with thoughts, spoken or unspoken, you have no choice but to think they can't possibly be mere coincidence.
Getting chased by those two men because Zev couldn't keep his hands to himself, only to run into Jowan and gain another friend was one of the former. Two days past Ghislain-and not lost yet, a fact that makes me far more proud than it should-I have the latter kind.
The sky has darkened to a deep shade of grey, fast on its way to being night. Of course, the looming storm clouds that have glowered at us all day are helping it along a little. Not having seen any sign of whoever it is following us, I mutter to Zevran that I wonder if they're still even there.
A crossbow bolt buries half its length in the log next to me less then a heartbeat after the words leave my mouth.
Zevran shoots me a look. "You were saying, minx?" All three of us drop to the ground as a second bolt hums past angrily a few seconds later.
"I take it back," I grumble. "Any educated guesses as to who it is?"
"If I were to guess, at this point I would say you were right about the Crows, amica."
"For once I wish I'd been wrong," I mutter.
"As do I," he replies, yanking a throwing knife freee of his belt. Gripping the tip, he flings it towards where the crossbow-wielder should be. There's a cry of pain and the sound of a body-living or dead I can't tell-falling to the ground. Zevran smirks in satisfaction.
"Impressive, Zevran, my friend. I was beginning to fear you had lost your touch," a mocking voice calls from somewhere out there. "Traveling with the Warden has made you soft."
Zevran mutters a vehement curse in Antivan, frustration rampant in his eyes. "Badly as you may wish to be wrong, my dear Warden, you were right. It is the Crows."
"Well, who do you think they're after?" I whisper. "Me or you?" I'm not used to seeing his emotions so clearly, and it shocks me that they're showing now. He's usually at his most controlled when danger threatens.
"It does not matter, amica. Either way they want both of us. Guilt by association, you see."
"Ah." That makes sense. Whether they're hunting for me because of Loghain's sodding contract or Zev for botching said contract and joining me, we're both marked.
And I dragged Jowan into it. I could kill myself for that.
"What are you two talking about?" Jowan demands in an undertone.
"I'll explain when there aren't people trying to kill us," I promise. "Suffice it to say the Crows want both of us dead for different reasons."
"The Crows?"
"Long story. Like I said, I'll explain later." An arrow slams into the log, less than three inches from my head. "Sod. Zev, how many do you think there are?"
"No fewer than five, surely," the assassin replies, "Not when they are targeting a Grey Warden and one of their own." He flinches as another arrow hisses out of the surrounding near-darkness and flies over his shoulder. "We are in a bad spot."
"You're telling me!" I retort, "Sodding fire gives them a huge advantage."
"Well, what do you suggest, my dear, hm?" Zevran hisses back testily. "We have no way of putting it out near at hand."
"Yes, we do, actually," I shoot back.
Almost as if he read my mind, Jowan mutters under his breath and the bluish-white magic of an ice spell envelops the wood, instantly turning to water and extinguishing the fire with a sizzle.
The dim looks a lot like dark with our eyes so used to the light, but at least the Crows no longer have that particular advantage over us.
"Excellent, Arainai! Now you need only to find us!" the Voice taunts.
I sense Zevran tense. "Ronin." The whisper is followed by a string of quiet but angry Antivan directed nowhere in particular. I feel worry tickle the base of my spine. Zev's never lost his cool so thoroughly, and to be honest, it's kind of scary.
"Zev." I touch his arm. "We need a plan."
"Whatever it is, Ronin is mine," Zevran hisses in reply.
"Why-?"
"You killed Vaughan, yes? And Howe?"
I nod. "Yeah."
"Then I get to kill Ronin."
"I'll do my best to leave him for you, then. But in the meantime, we need a plan, Zev."
Best we can under the circumstances, arrows still hissing by, knowing the Crows will probably move in now that the fire-and their advantage-is gone, we come up with a plan. Split up, be sneaky, and don't get killed. Rudimentary, yes, but all things considered, it's a decent enough plan.
I bump against something as I creep away, toward the general direction of Ronin's voice. It shifts, scrapes, and starts to fall and I instinctively grab for it. My hand closes blindly around smooth wood, and I realize what I'm holding. Jowan's staff. While I know from experience he can handle himself without it, I think the Crows are going to give us a bit more trouble than a few darkspawn. And him collapsing from exhaustion before all of them are dead would be really bad. "Jowan!"
"Over here!" His answering shout comes in perfect tandem with a rush of flame and cries of pain and surprise from a couple Crows.
I whirl in his direction, smirking a bit as I realize the Crows weren't expecting him to actually be dangerous. "Catch!" I toss the staff in his direction.
He's close enough I hear the slap of wood against skin as he catches it. I also hear his breath catch before he hollers, "Rahna, duck!"
I instinctively obey, dropping to my knees as a stonefist sails over my head and crashes into the elf trying to sneak up behind me. I twist out of the way as another Crow tries to take advantage of my awkward position and rake Topsider's Honor hard against the back of the woman's knees. She goes down as I scramble up. I finish her with a sweep of one sword.
A gurgle sounds nearby as Zevran dispatches another one, the man collapsing to his knees before falling on his face. "Minx, are you alright?"
"Just fine," I call back, wincing as an arrow grazes my arm in the moment of distraction. "Sod it all! Jowan, see if you can do anything about those damn archers!" The near-darkness is not helping, though I know our eyes have adjusted enough the Crows can no longer claim an advantage on that score. Still, it's too dark to be fighting. "Oh, this should be fun," I mutter with sardonic glee, catching sight of a pair of Crows sneaking between trees. I head for the two men, swords clutched in a death grip.
One of them goes down easily as I have my turn with the element of surprise. His friend, however, is a bit harder. Still, all it takes is one swing that goes a little too wide, and I ram my sword through his leather armor, yanking it free and moving on toward the next one before his body has fallen to the ground.
From the amount of skill exhibited by the elf I all but run into, I'm guessing I found Ronin. As I lock blades with him, the heavens open and the storm that's been threatening all day finally makes good on its promise. Sodding perfect! "You're joking, tell me you're joking!" I groan, skidding on the instantly muddy ground as Ronin bulls forward. He's more aggresive than your average rogue. "ZEV!" My leg twists under me as I fall. Which turns out to be a good thing, as Ronin's swords arc through where my head was a second earlier. Blessed Andraste... I sweep my foot against the back of his legs, tumbling him into the mud next to me, and spit out a mouthful of rainwater. I'm vaguely aware of harsh cries of pain as Zev and Jowan dispatch more of the Crows, one coming from a decent enough distance I'm guessing it was an archer. Hopefully the last one.
"Ah, Warden, I see why Zevran has followed you," Ronin baits in a thick Antivan accent as we both struggle back to our feet. I have a newfound hatred for mud now. "You are as deadly as you are beautiful, the two qualities he finds most attractive in his women."
I furiously shove sopping tendrils of hair out of my face and spit mud at him. "Shut up and sodding die," I growl as we circle warily.
"This I cannot do. There is too much to gain by killing the two of you. The purse for killing the last Fereldan Warden, and the honor of killing a traitorous fellow Crow."
Mentioning that I'm the last Fereldan Warden was a bad move on his part. I slide to the side as he lunges forward and sweep one sword in an arc that I feel gouge into his arm. He snarls and whirls around, slashing at my face. Zev, I know you said you wanted to kill him, but if you don't wise up and get your arse over here soon, I'm gonna have to do it. Ronin's dagger nicks my face, opening a wound that cuts my scar in half. I hiss at the pain and punch him in the temple.
He staggers backwards from the blow, right into the huge, crackling bolt of lightning flying in his direction from Jowan's staff. I can tell from the size of it, Jowan put enough power behind the attack to take down four or five hurlocks, so one sodding elven rogue doesn't stand a chance. Ronin's matching sword and dagger slip from convulsing, twitching hands that can no longer hold them and land in the mud with a small splash. The assassin's still-shuddering corpse isn't far behind. I approach Ronin's body with a fair level of caution and ram one sword through his skull, just to be safe, before I turn to Jowan.
"Thanks," I mutter, gasping for breath. For saving my neck again. It's hard to fight when you're struggling for your balance at the same time. Even the duelist tricks Isabela taught me only help so much.
"Don't mention it. You alright?"
"Sure am." I know that's not all of them; it can't be. "Let's get back to it, shall we?"
He nods. "Good idea."
Something flickers in the woods, catching my eye, even through the darkness and rain. "Jowan, did you see-"
The paralysis spell catches both of us off-guard.
"Hello, Rahna," the mage smirks as she steps out from the trees, golden brown eyes laughing at me. "Oh, pardon my manners. You probably don't recognize me." She holds up her hands, mutters something that sounds vaguely familiar, and shifts before my eyes from a human into a fox. A golden-eyed fox. She looks up at me and, still smirking, cocks her head. "Is this better?"
A/N: *Even more dead of satisfaction than last chapter* Maker, that was fun to write! Yes, I am beyond evil. I know, I know. *maniacal laughter* I really, really wanted to get the whole fight in one chapter, but it just wouldn't fit. And this was too awesome a spot to stop. I couldn't resist. I have learn the cliffhanger lesson well(thank you page and 'nista...)At least now you know who was following them, and that's something, right? Right? *flees for her life*
