6 Kingsway, 9:30 Dragon
Denerim
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Everything about Fort Drakon was familiar, reassuringly so.
The sounds of metal against metal, and booted footsteps on stone. The smells of cowhide and sweat and coal smoke and something like burnt honey, from the beeswax used to harden leather armor. The marble walls, darkened by the torch smoke of countless years. The chill that never quite left the air, no matter the time of year.
It felt like walking back in time, before the Blight. When things were simpler. Before darkspawn threatened to destroy everything in their path. Before Cailan was dead. Before the Bannorn started squawking. A time when it wasn't terrifying to look into the future, and genuinely not be able to guess what lay ahead.
He took in a deep breath, and felt just a bit of the tension in his shoulders slip away. There was comfort to be had within these stone walls. At least, as long as Loghain didn't allow his mind to travel to the room he kept upstairs, and one particular evening he'd spent there, more than a year ago. Those were memories best left untouched.
Ostensibly, Loghain had come to speak with the garrison commander. He also hoped, however, to convince someone to spar with him. With any luck, the physical exertion would tire him enough that he might manage to sleep through the night for once.
The garrison commander, a woman named Alyce, was in her office, along with Ser Cauthrien.
"Good morning, Your Grace," Alyce greeted. "It's good to see you. What can I offer you to drink?"
"Nothing too strong; just a glass of port, if you don't mind."
"Of course."
"What brings you here today, Your Grace," Cauthrien asked, as Loghain settled himself in one of the vacant chairs near Alyce's desk.
"The Bannorn. Bann Bronach in particular."
In recent weeks, Loghain had written to several of the banns, asking them to send soldiers to march south and protect Vintiver, Oswin and Winter's Breath, all of which seemed likely to be imminent targets of the darkspawn.
Cauthrien arched a brow. "I take it he's not willing to send troops?"
"No. I had a message from him this morning. He refuses to send even one single soldier to fight the darkspawn, or help secure the borders. And I've heard nothing at all from any of the others. I get the feeling Bronach has elected himself their ringleader, and feels he speaks for the entire Bannorn. Perhaps the others have even agreed for him to speak for them. Regardless, his refusal, and the silence of the others, is unacceptable."
"What are they playing at?" Alyce handed Loghain a glass, and pulled her chair around to the front of the desk before she sat down. She was a handsome woman, tall, with blonde hair and the sort of skin that burned easily in the sun. Her amber eyes were graced by wrinkles at their corners now, but were still as warm as they had ever been. Alyce had been in command of Fort Drakon for a decade, and had been stationed here for nearly twice as long. Before that, she'd been a member of the palace guard, until certain events necessitated a transfer of duties. When she'd asked to be removed from the palace, Loghain had made it clear this was a horizontal transfer; he never wanted to give Alyce, nor any of the few people who knew what had happened, any reason to think she was being punished or demoted.
She'd flourished at Fort Drakon, so much so that, when the previous commander retired, Urien Kendells had put her in charge of the fort. It was a comfortable arrangement for everyone, and Loghain trusted her with the garrison completely.
"After Lothering," she continued, "you'd think they'd realize the urgency of coming together to fight the darkspawn."
"That would be the logical response," Loghain replied. "But when has the Bannorn ever exhibited anything resembling logic? Quite the opposite, in fact. Bronach cited Lothering as the reason he can't spare any troops; he says they're needed to protect his own lands. But that's just an excuse. He knows full well that Hafter River is in no imminent danger. What the man's doing is not only stupid, it's treason."
"Not everyone will see it that way, though," Cauthrien said thoughtfully. "Technically, his refusal isn't treasonous until there is a monarch on the throne. I've heard the men talking; you're right about Bronach making himself the spokesperson. He's put himself forward as the voice of an oppressed Bannorn."
"Oppressed?" Loghain scoffed. "That fool doesn't know the meaning of the word."
"I know that, but he is making a lot of noise, and there are those who are inclined to listen." Cauthrien shrugged. "Some because they believe him, and others because it's a convenient lie upon which they can hang their own cowardice." She paused. "Why not just call a Landsmeet, and have Anora officially confirmed?"
A good question, one he'd asked himself dozens of times over the past few weeks. But every time he thought it through, he came to the same conclusion: "I cannot guarantee she'll have enough support. And if we rush into this, before I'm certain she will be confirmed, we run the risk of ending up with another foolish king on the throne, rather than someone who can be trusted to lead Ferelden through this crisis."
"It's hard to think of anyone else with a strong claim to the throne," Cauthrien said. "Bryce Cousland would have been the obvious choice, if he were alive, but now?" She shook her head. "I've heard a few names put forward, although none of them seem to have any strong support. Leonas Bryland is well-liked, but most people seem to agree he doesn't have the right temperament to be king. Gallagher Wulff, perhaps, or Sighard Davies. I've heard Teagan Guerrin's name mentioned once or twice. Apparently, he made quite a stir the last time you spoke to the nobility?"
"That he did." Teagan was the one who started all this dissension in the Bannorn, although, to be fair, Bronach and the rest of the banns were more than capable of being disgruntled without any encouragement.
"He is a popular man, and might be able to gather the support of the Bannorn. Even so, on the whole, there doesn't seem to be any one person with a strong measure of support. And the queen is still very popular. Definitely with the people, and with much of the nobility, or so it seems."
"For what it's worth," Alyce began, "I've heard rumors that Eamon Guerrin is indisposed. So there might never be a better time to act, and act quickly."
Loghain arched a brow. "What have you heard about Eamon?"
"That he suffers from an unexplained illness, one so serious that the arlessa has sent out all of Redcliffe's knights in search of some mystical cure. Andraste's ashes."
"Ashes?" Loghain scoffed. "That's nothing more than a fairy tale." Also quite unnecessary; that mage fellow had an antidote, for whenever Loghain decided the time was right. Of course, Isolde could have no way of knowing that, and it was certainly no skin off Loghain's nose if the arlessa wanted to waste her time on a wild goose chase.
"That's what I thought, as well," Alyce said. "And those knights would be put to better use fighting darkspawn." She paused. "I do think it might be prudent to call a Landsmeet. Now . . . before any new claimants might appear?"
The woman's expression revealed little of her thoughts, but she caught and held Loghain's gaze.
He nodded, slowly. "Yes. Perhaps you're right. I will speak with Anora about the possibility of calling a Landsmeet as soon as Bronach has been dealt with."
Alyce leaned back in her chair. "Since you're here, I suspect that means you want soldiers?"
"Yes," he replied. "With the situation as it is now – politically, and in light of the darkspawn – it seems imprudent to march on Hafter River with only a token force. And perhaps being confronted with a full company of soldiers will help convince Bronach that he needs to cooperate."
"I agree," said Cauthrien. "If they feel you are weak, they'll just ignore whatever you say or worse yet, arrange for some sort of an 'accident.' Show them right from the start that you're not playing games."
"My thoughts exactly. And I would like you to accompany me when I speak with Bronach."
"Of course."
"When do you plan to leave Denerim?" Alyce asked.
"In about two weeks' time."
"Very well. How many men do you need? As you're aware, we're stretched a bit thin at the moment."
Another reminder of how crucial it was for the Bannorn to cooperate; there were few enough soldiers to fight the darkspawn after the defeat at Ostagar, and most of Loghain's Gwaren troops were defending the borders. He needed to recruit more soldiers, as soon as possible. He might even have to resort to conscripting villagers and petty criminals. Or perhaps put out a call to the Alienage, asking for volunteers. He'd done that once, very successfully, with the Night Elves. Perhaps it would be possible again.
Either way, Ferelden couldn't afford not to have the support of the Bannorn. The sooner Bronach was brought to heel, the better.
"Perhaps eighty men," he replied. "If you can spare them."
"Of course. That will be no problem. I'll make sure to choose soldiers who aren't likely to have direct ties to the Hafter River bannric." She paused. "While you're here, Commander, there is another matter or two I'd like to bring to your attention."
"Yes?"
"First, I'm sure it will come as no surprise, but we're beginning to run short on funds for supplies. I've got provisions for the men for at least another two months, but after that, I will need money to pay the merchants who supply our grains and meat. It seems they've raised prices, probably in response to the troubles in the south, but it means I'm not able to stretch things quite as far as I could before."
Loghain suppressed a groan. If they were already having trouble keeping the soldiers fed, how much worse would it be once Loghain managed to recruit more men? He genuinely had no idea where the money would come from to support additional troops, let alone the ones they already had.
"Thank you, Alyce. I am aware of the problem, and will do whatever needs to be done to make sure you have the provisions you need."
"Thank you, ser." She paused. "And there is one more thing." A crease formed across her forehead. That didn't bode well. Whatever it was she had to say, it seemed likely to be unpleasant. What could be more unpleasant than the fact Ferelden was broke while facing an army of darkspawn?
"Vaughan Kendells is missing, and there's trouble in the Alienage," she said.
"Vaughan Kendells?" Loghain leaned forward in his seat. "That you've brought these two things up together suggests they are connected?"
"Presumably so, yes."
"Give me the details. From the start."
"Of course." Alyce paused. "There was an . . . incident. About a week ago. A wedding was disrupted by a group of human noblemen - Kendells, along with lords Joraley and Braden. Two elven couples were supposed to be married by Mother Boann, but the wedding never took place."
Maker's balls.
"How bad was it?" No need to beat around the bush. If Vaughan Kendells was involved, there was no way anything about this would be pleasant.
"Reasonably bad." She took a deep breath. "All information I have about the original incident comes from Mother Boann. She said she had the feeling that when they arrived at the wedding, that wasn't the start of things. That, based on some of the things that were said, Vaughan had been in the Alienage earlier in the day, and there'd been some sort of trouble. She didn't know details about any of that, but what she did witness was unpleasant enough. The noblemen and their guards interrupted the wedding, violently. Mother Boann said he claimed to be having a party and was in need of guests. Female guests." She paused, and shook her head. "Then they took both brides, along with three other elven women."
"Took them?" Loghain sat up straight. "What do you mean they took them? Are you saying Vaughan Kendells kidnapped women from the Alienage?"
"Yes. He knocked at least one of them unconscious, and dragged the others away."
Maker's balls. This was beyond the pale, even for Kendells.
"Where did he take them?"
"Apparently, back to the Denerim Estate."
A wave of nausea rolled over him. "What happened after that?"
"Well, things were rather chaotic, as you might expect. Thankfully, Mother Boann was able to get out of the Alienage safely immediately after Kendells and the others left. Of course, from that point forward, all of the reports we've heard are of questionable validity. But from what I've managed to piece together, a group of men from the Alienage managed to arm themselves, and they went to the estate to rescue their women. Joraley was able to get out unharmed, and Braden received some injuries, but nothing life-threatening. A few of Kendells' guards were killed, and some of the elves as well."
"And what about Kendells?"
"According to Braden and Joraley both, Vaughan was alive the last time they saw him."
"But you now have some reason to believe he might be dead?"
"I don't know. It's just that he hasn't been seen since that day. Although no body has turned up, either. But it wouldn't surprise me if something . . . happened to him. My guess is that some of the elves returned to the estate after Braden and Joraley left, and killed Kendells, and then hid the body. They probably think they can't be brought to justice for having murdered a man if there's no proof that he's actually dead. Perhaps they weighted his body and dumped it in the river, or they might have hidden it somewhere in the Alienage."
Loghain rubbed at his forehead. With all the other problems in the world right now, the last thing he needed was trouble in the Alienage. Or trouble with Vaughan Kendells, damn the man.
"I had my people search the Denerim Estate, as soon as Vaughan was reported missing," Alyce continued. "And Rendon Howe sent soldiers into the Alienage to search for Kendells or some evidence of his murder."
Rendon Howe had involved himself in this? What in the Maker's name was the man thinking? Actually, it was easy to guess what he was thinking: if Vaughan was really dead, Howe would want the arling for himself.
"Did he find anything useful?"
"No, and . . . well, from what I've heard his guards were rather enthusiastic in trying to get answers. Which leads us to the final problem: now, the elves are rioting."
Loghain sat back in his chair. Maker's balls. He took in a slow breath, to calm himself.
"What have you done about the rioting?"
"Nothing. I thought it would be best to pull everyone out of the Alienage, lock the gates, and leave the elves to their own devices until things calm down. It means we can't search for Vaughan, but it also means there's no risk of anyone else being harmed. Besides, if Vaughan is in the Alienage, there's almost no chance he's still alive."
Somehow, that particular thought troubled Loghain not at all. The man was vile garbage, he'd proven that time and time again. It was just unfortunate that the Alienage was now in an uproar because of him.
Alyce shrugged. "To be honest, what's happening in the Alienage isn't terribly out of the ordinary. They do rile themselves up on a regular basis, after all. The last time things were this bad, Cailan ordered a purge, which Arl Urien approved. I thought perhaps you might want to initiate some sort of action like that again now?"
"I'm not the one to speak to about this," Loghain replied. "I have no jurisdiction over the Alienage."
"Not under usual circumstances," Alyce replied. "Normally, I'd ask the arl of Denerim. But in the absence of an arl – or even the arl's miscreant son - the arling falls under the domain of the queen. And as her regent, I thought you would be the best one to handle this."
She did have a point. Something would have to be done. But what? If he'd known about this before it had gotten out of hand, it would have been much easier to deal with. But now? It was times like this that he missed Uthalas, and the man's good advice, more than ever.
"Fair enough. It's premature to talk about another purge just yet. I'll think on what needs to be done, and speak with Anora about it. For now, just keep an eye on things and let me know if anything changes. Or if Vaughan turns up, dead or alive. In the meantime, please begin preparations for a march on Hafter River."
"As you wish."
Loghain turned to Cauthrien. "And now, if you don't have any pressing business, I had hoped we might spend a few minutes in the practice yard?"
"Of course, Your Grace." One corner of Cauthrien's mouth curved up in a smile." I have nothing pressing. I'll be more than happy to spar."
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Many thanks to my wonderful beta readers, Kevin, Amanda Kitswell, Psyche Sinclair, and Sehnsuchttraum, and also to all my fabulous reviewers: Tyrannosaurustex, Milly-finalfantasy, Chrismasters, Kira Kyuu, KrystylSky, Olivebg, Skidney, Arsinoe de Blassenville, and Kainen-no-Kitsune.
I apologize for the delay with this chapter. I'm hitting the end-of-semester crunch at school right now, so my time for editing has been limited. The next chapter might be delayed as well, but after that, I'll be on summer break, and it should be smooth sailing for the next several months.
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