Chapter 53: Seeking
"The lower levels are secure cousin."
Nicholai nodded. Byron's report was welcome after the tense journey here. He had come here to aid Cassandra in finding out what had happened to her fellow Seekers.
So far…they had found more questions than answers.
The plan had been simple. Byron and a small detachment of Inquisition troops would approach the front gate under a flag of truth. Meanwhile, Cassandra, Nicholai, Varric, Sera, and Blackwall would infiltrate the Caer Oswin through a secret door Leliana's agents had discovered, but only if the front door meeting went bad. Byron was to sound a single blast of his war horn if it was clear that peaceful interaction with the Seekers was impossible.
The Inquisitor had hoped for the best, but was not surprised when the signal rang out. They had infiltrated the Seeker stronghold only to be attacked on sight. The battle had been short, but brutal.
Caer Oswin was not the type of place one would normally choose to hide a military force; its defenses were poorer than the ones that the Inquisition had fielded during their brief stay in the village of Haven. The castle was in poor repair. Bann Loren, who ruled from here, had lost his entire family during the early days of the Blight over ten years ago, and with it, any hope for the future, or so their agents had claimed. In the decade since, the place had fallen apart; its dark empty corridors more resembled a tomb than a functioning holdfast.
Bann Lorne was however said to be a pious man perhaps that was why Lord Seeker Lucius had decided to come here.
Maker knew; it was not for the place's value as a defensive fortress.
From her place at the Inquisitor's side, Cassandra regarded Byron Trevelyan; the former tourney knight had been bloodied during the skirmish with the castle's defenders. The top of his head was covered by a bandage, and a bit of red stained near his right ear.
"Have there been any casualties?" she asked.
"Wounded only," Byron replied, "No dead, and that is only because we were caught by surprise."
The boy frowned.
"Seekers are supposed to be honorable, yet they attacked as we approached under a banner of truce, disgraceful."
Byron winced when he saw the hard look Cassandra was giving him; the boy bowed his head in submission.
"No offense meant, Seeker," he said quickly.
She continued to hold him with that commanding gaze of hers. Byron had come a long way since he had first joined the Inquisition. He was slowly learning the lessons of caution and humility, but that old arrogance still reared its head sometimes.
Under Cassandra's command, he might just live long enough to move past it.
"These are not Seekers," she informed him, "they are members of the Order of Fiery Promise, cultists and outlaws all."
"You can add piss-poor soldiers to that definition as well, Seeker," Byron said, "They might be wearing Seeker armor, but they fight like raw boned recruits or first year squires."
Nicholai gave her an arched look.
"Why would someone want to pretend to be a Seeker?" he asked, "Seems kind of dangerous in times such as these?"
She quickly explained to them the history between the Seekers of Truth and the Order of Fiery Promise. The Promisers, as she called them, believed themselves the true Seekers of Truth, and that the Seekers had stolen their power ages ago.
According to Cassandra the Promisers agenda was to bring about the end of the world through an inferno, that by destroying everything, a new world would rise from its ashes, a better world, a purer world that would be paradise for only the Maker's chosen.
Not the type of people that one would think that the Seekers would go to in looking for allies after what had happened during the mage rebellion.
Then again, Nicholai thought to himself, war did make strange bedfellows.
When the war against the mage's had begun, Seekers had often been seen directing the battle as the Circles had thrown off the yoke and rebelled against their former jailors. They had been the commanders and officers in the Templar army, and a dangerous enemy for any mage force that tried to stand against them. These men and women had been the true zealots of the Seekers, or at the very least the more ambitious ones, those eager to prove themselves worthy and ascend to the place of command left vacant when Lambert Van Reeves had been slain.
Lord Seeker Lambert had been the one that had taken the Templars away from the Chantry, it had been he that broke the accords and set the Templars on the path that had led them to fall under Corypheus' sway. Had he lived, he might have prevented it, or perhaps he would have been drawn into the Elder One's web as well.
It was hard to say now; all that could be said was that the Templars, or rather the Red Templars now served Corypheus.
Yet, the Seekers of Truth did not seem to be among them.
Have you found any prisoners?" he asked Byron."
Again the young man shook his head.
"Bodies only," he said, "They may have been the missing Seekers, only another of their order might be able to identify them. Some of them in pretty bad shape, signs of torture, whether it was for interrogation or amusement, I cannot say."
Cassandra's eyes narrowed. The thought of her fellows being tortured for amusement…
"The promisers will answer for this," she growled, "They will pay dearly."
"The remaining enemy has retreated to the higher levels," Byron said, "We're ready to pursue at your command, cousin."
Nicholai shook his head.
"No," he said, "Hold our positions here, no one leaves without my say-so. Casandra and I will lead a small force and deal with any remaining cultists."
The younger man bowed.
"As you say cousin."
"Good," Nicholai said with a grim nod, "One last thing, Byron."
"Yes?"
Nicholai gave him an icy frown, the one that his lord father had always worn when he was angry about something. The boy winced.
"When we are in the field, you should use my title, not "cousin." You have a bright future, but not because we are blood, we cannot let the other soldiers come to think otherwise."
Nicholai gave him a stern look.
"Is that clear?"
Byron swallowed hard and nodded.
"Yes cuz…I…I mean Inquisitor. I…I meant no disrespect."
"Nor did you show any," the Inquisitor said, "This was just a friendly reminder. Try to remember it."
"Yes…yes ser," Byron said again with a slight bow.
Nicholai nodded and dismissed him.
Cassandra gave him an admiring look.
"You applaud with one hand, yet discipline with another," she said, "Well done."
Nicholai shrugged.
"Byron's a good man, and a good soldier. He will likely become one of our best with a bit more experience under his belt."
Cassandra nodded.
"The man who trained me was named Byron. Hopefully young Trevelyan will prove just as worthy of the name."
Nicholai looked around; the shadows of this place bothered him, not to mention what was going on here.
It was the Inquisition's duty to deal with threats like the Promisers, mad cultists that offered greater threats if left unchecked.
Threats like these were what the Inquisition was made for.
He looked at his companions. Both Cassandra and Blackwall wore the grim expressions of seasoned soldiers. Varric moved his fingers over Bianca, adjusting something on the crossbow's stock. Sera grinned manically. She seemed more than eager for the chaos that was to come.
"Let's move out people." He said.
"We have work to do."
IOI
Level by level they cleared out the remaining promisers. Each broken down door and dark corridor brought more enemies under their blades, bows and staves.
The Inquisitor's fire spells dealt with his enemies, those that did not fall to Cassandra and Blackwall's blades. Nicholai felt it an appropriate fate for the promisers. They craved fire so badly…well, let them burn and see how it felt.
Sera giggled when she heard his reasoning. Normally Cassandra would have rolled her eyes, but not now.
The Seeker was on a mission of vengeance, and in the face of that, nothing else mattered.
Twice Varric had to shoot an enemy off the Seeker's back. So focused on dealing with what was in front of her, so lost in her rage, it was making Cassandra sloppy.
Nicholai pursed his lips.
He would have ordered her back, but did not see it as his place. Cassandra may not have followed the Seekers when they went to war with the mages, but that did not mean that she did not take their deaths personally.
The Inquisitor did not have a right to deny her her vengeance, and he wouldn't, but that did not mean he would let her get herself killed. He stayed at her side and dealt with any enemy that got too close.
He could not stop her, but that did not mean that he would not protect her.
As they cleansed the holdfast, they found several letters that explained the Promisers presence here. The most telling one found on the body of a Red Templar officer who had charged them in the upper courtyard. Varric and Sera left the man-creature so full of arrows and bolts that he might have well been a quiver. He fell dead at the feet of the Inquisitor, the pained cry of the Red Templars dying on his lips even as he died at Nicholai's feet.
The Inquisitor pulled out the letter, and showed it to Cassandra.
Her expression became grimmer with each line she read.
When she finished she threw down the letter, anger radiating off her in waves.
She turned to Nicholai.
"The Seekers were left in the Promisers' care," she spat, "They were immune to the effect of Red Lyrium, so…Corypheus left them here."
"They were of no use," Blackwall said, "Not surprising that this Elder One wanted them out of the way."
Nicholai nodded.
"This General Samson that the letter mentions," Nicholai said, "I've heard Cullen mention him before. Some lyrium addict from Kirkwall."
He shook his head.
"Not surprising such a man would find his way into the Elder One's service."
"Is Corypheus mad?!" Cassandra growled, "Does he not realize that the Promisers wish to end the world?"
"I doubt he would have let them live long enough to be any kind of threat to his plans," Nicholai said, "Once the Seekers were out of the way, he likely would have sent the Red Templar's here in force."
"Or he would simply have tipped the Inquisition off to this place," Blackwall offered.
Nicholai gave him an arched look.
"What do you mean warden?"
Blackwall shrugged.
"Why waste his own people? Some Venatori agent lets slip this place's location in the right ear, word of it gets back to the Nightingale. She tells us, we come here and deal with the Promisers. Our losses benefit the Venatori, and Corypheus gets to tie up a loose end."
Blackwall snorted.
"Efficient, if that is indeed what happened."
Nicholai shuddered.
Blackwall wasn't wrong. It was easy to think of Corypheus as simply a monster, some darkspawn, but if he was indeed one of the Magisters that invaded the golden city.
He was likely smarter than they gave him credit for.
The Inquisitor frowned.
Not a pleasant thought that.
Cassandra paced like a caged lioness, her anger continued to grow with each engagement.
"They could not have killed all of us," she said, "The Seekers were…are some of the greatest fighters in Thedas. They would not have fallen so easy. Lord Seeker Lucius, the senior knights, they would not have fallen so easily. I won't believe it. I refuse to believe it."
She gave the dead Red Templar a venomous look.
"They could not have killed all of us."
Nicholai sighed; he wished he had word of comfort to offer the Seeker. Sadly, he had none.
Sera, being Sera, had her own opinions on what was going on.
"Corphy-spit is a regular ass-biscuit," Sera said, "Only a total shite would work with people like this."
Nicholai shrugged.
The elf's words, though crude, were not wrong.
He turned to the last tower, off the upper courtyard, several torches blazed in the windows, and at the top of the structure. If there were any enemies left, that is likely where they would have fled. Perhaps they even had a few prisoners left there; Seekers that could give them real answers about what happened after Lord Seeker Lucius led the Templars out of Val Royeaux.
There was only one way to find out wasn't there.
Nicholai led the way.
Their work was not yet done.
These promisers wanted fire? Well he had fire for them, a cleansing fire.
He smiled grimly.
He would give them…an inferno.
