They ride quickly in the dark, save the occasional flashes of light. After what seems like hours of the biting cold wind and icy rain slapping their faces, the rain begins to taper off. Ana shivers in the saddle in front of Duncan but remains quiet, partially from the shock that still resides in her from the current events. Slowing their horse to a stop, Duncan looks back before sighing. "We've put quite an amount of distance between us and them for now." He says quietly. "It won't be for long though. Once they realize that you're missing, Howe will send men to look for you."

When she says nothing, he frowns. "Lady Ana? Are you alright?"

Unable to cry anymore, she gives a weak nod. At this point, all she wants is a warm meal and to get out of the cold and into a nice warm bed. She just wants to wake up and have everything to just be one big nightmare.

While he can't see her face, Duncan knows she's tired and grief-stricken. Poor Girl. Looking around them once more, he tries to determine what they should do. As wise as it would be to get more distance between them and Howe's men, her cloak is soaked and had to remind himself that, unlike him, she's not where layers of armor over her clothes. She's only wearing a dress which is probably soaked through by now. If they continued on, she might catch a fever.

As he takes in his surroundings, at least what he remembered seeing when they still had the occasional lightning flash, he assumes that they had been riding east southeast. We must be somewhere between Stoneleigh and Barnston, Duncan thinks to himself, recalling the town they rode past recently. Within about a half hour, we should be in Barnston. With luck, we should be able to find sanctuary in the Chantry there.

"We'll be stopping for the night soon." He announces, setting off at a canter. As Duncan predicted, they came upon the town of Barnston within a half hour. The only thing that told them they were nearing the town were the torches held by two men standing at the entrance of a great palisade gate. Once they draw nearer to the men, the light from the torches illuminates the surrounding area and reveals them. The men take notice of their presence and say something to one another before one holds up his hand to them. "Halt!" He says, his gaze falling on the shield and sword which peeks out from Ana's cloak. "State your business."

Slowing to a stop, Duncan leans to the side of her to see the men. "Let us in. We need to speak with the Chantry Mother." He states. "It's urgent."

Hearing the familiar voice, the man steps forward, raising his torch as his eyes narrow. "Duncan? Is that you?"

Ana feels Duncan's arms tense against her arms as he lets out a sigh. "It is." He snaps. "Like I said, this is urgent."

As it finally dons on him that he's speaking to the Warden-Commander himself, the man's lips purse as he gives Duncan a brisk nod. "Right. My apologies, Warden-Commander." He scrambles back toward the other man and calls for the gates to be opened. As they wait, Ana turns in her seat. "But what about Ser Gilmore?" She whispers. "He said he'd be right behind us. He won't know we're here!"

"Don't worry about him." Duncan says softly. "He's a capable young man. If he doesn't see us along the way, he'll find us at Ostagar. For now, let us focus on ensuring your safety, my lady."

The gates open just enough for them and Duncan urges their horse forward. They ride past the two men and into the town, following the dirt roads lined with torches toward the edge of town where the large stone structure of the Chantry looms. As they ride past it, Ana's brows furrow.

"Where are we going?" Ana asks. "I thought we were going to talk to the Chantry mother?"

"We are."

"But you just passed the chantry."

There's a long silence and Ana's patience begins to wear thin. "You're going the wrong way." She complains.

"We need to stable the horse first." Duncan says patiently. "We've been riding long and hard since we left Highever. He needs to rest just like we do."

Ana pouts like a child but remains quiet until they reach the stables. Duncan is the first to dismount and holds a hand up to help her. She begins to shift so she can slide out of the saddle when she notices something. Looking around, she frowns. "Where's Much?" She asks, panic gripping at her heart. Her eyes widen as she looks down at Duncan. "Where is he?"

"Come on." He says passively, holding out his hand. "We need to get to the chantry. It's late and we need to rest up for the long journey tomorrow."

"Answer me!" She demands but it comes off more like a whine than an actual command. "Where is he?"

Normally he would assert his authority over her and remind her that she is in no position to order him around but, looking up at her, he could tell that she's just scared and trying to regain some control in her life, now that everything has just been taken away. His expression softens. "Before we left, I asked Ser Gilmore to keep your mabari with him." He says, gently. "With the speed we were going to get away from Howe's men, I knew he would not be able to keep up. You should see him again at Ostagar." If he and Ser Gilmore make it safely to Ostagar, that is. He thinks grimly. He holds out his hand once more.

Ana looks away as she feels the tears beginning to form. Shifting the shield and sword to one arm, she takes his hand and slips down from the saddle, the shield falling from her grasp. She gives a frustrated groan and Duncan stoops down to retrieve it. She mutters a thanks as he hands it back. Hugging it close to her under her drenched cloak, she waits as Duncan speaks with the sleepy stable hand and pays him before leading her away.

Reaching the large stone steps leading up to the doors of the Chantry, Ana stumbles here and there as she trips on the long fabric of her dress. After a while, Duncan takes pity on her and takes the equipment from her so she can lift her dress enough to climb. They reach the top and, after handing it back to Ana, he pounds on the large double doors, praying that one of the lay sisters or the Chantry Mother herself is awake. As they wait, Duncan begins to grow restless and shifts from one foot to the other, occasionally looking around for any signs of danger.

Much to his relief, one of the large door slowly opens to reveal a plump woman in lay sister robes. She turns to look at the odd duo, an older Rivaini man clad in plate metal and a disheveled noble-looking young woman, clutching something beneath her wet and dirty cloak. She looks up at the man. "Hello." She says, her voice laced with what sounds like an Antivian accent. "How may I help you?"

"My name is Duncan. I'm the Warden-Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden." Duncan says, motioning to Ana. "This is my new recruit. We need to speak with the Chantry mother at once."

The woman looks over Duncan for a moment, her eyes falling on the embossed crest of the Grey Wardens. Deciding he's probably telling the truth, she nods. "Of course. Come inside." She steps aside to let them through. Duncan motions for Ana to go first, which she obeys. Regardless of the giant stone steps, the Chantry itself is quite small. The antechamber is all stone and lined on either side with a marble Andraste statue holding a lit torch. The main chamber is a little larger and has a raised platform at the very back and rows of pews arranged in a semi-circle around it. Ana's eyes look around as they follow the lay sister into the main chamber and she notices the two doors on either side of the room. She's so preoccupied with looking around that she almost runs into the sister as she stops ahead of them. She turns around. "You may wait here." She says, offering Ana a small smile. "I'll fetch the Revered Mother."

As she leaves them, they stand there in silence, taking in the dim interior. Like the hall which they just came in, more torch bearing statues line the walls, providing the only little light until morning. The lay sister returns shortly after with an older woman wearing the ceremonial headdress of the chantry. She greets them with a warm smile. "Hello. My name is Mother Corinna." She says, her eyes lingering on Ana before switching to Duncan. "How can I help you?"

"Thank you for speaking with us, Revered Mother." Duncan says. "I apologize for disturbing you at such a late hour. Had it not been of dire circumstances, we would have waited until morning."

Mother Corinna's smile falls. She glances once more at Ana's disheveled appearance. "Perhaps we should speak privately?" Duncan nods and the Chantry mother turns to look at the lay sister standing off to the side. "Sister Gabrielle?"

The lay sister perks up at the sound of her name. "Yes, Revered Mother?"

"Please take…" She pauses and gives Ana an inquisitive look. Before she can answer, Duncan quickly replies.

"Ana."

Mother Corinna nods to him before returning her gaze to the sister. "Please take Ana to the eastern guest chamber. I'm sure she would like to get out of her wet clothes and rest." Sister Gabrielle nods and leads Ana away towards the east door while Duncan follows Mother Corinna into the opposite one. Once safely behind the thick wooden door, she turns to face him. "Now we should be able to speak plainly." She says. "You spoke of dire circumstances? I was told by Gabrielle that you're Grey Wardens."

"Only I am." Duncan nods. "We have just fled from Castle Cousland in Highever."

Mother Corinna's brows crease. "Fled?" She asks, shooting a weary glance at the door. "Is she a criminal? Aside from her cloak, she's dressed very well."

He shakes his head. "I imagine you've heard of Bryce Cousland?"

"Of course," She nods. "He and his family have ruled over the north for generations. He and the Arl of Amaranthine fought against the Orlesians. Was she a lady who was visiting? What happened?"

Duncan's gaze darkens. "Her name is Lady Analise Cousland." He says carefully. "She's the youngest daughter of the late Teyrn and Teyrna."

She frowns. "Late?"

Duncan nods gravely. "The castle was attacked in the middle of the night by Arl Howe and his men. Men, women and children were slaughtered in their beds. Luckily, with the help of her guard, Ana was able to find me and we escaped."

Mother Corinna nodded slowly as she processed all this. "They wanted to kill off all the Couslands." She breathes. She looks up at him, wide eyed. "Is she the only Cousland left then?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he shrugs. "We're not sure. Her brother, Fergus, led the Teyrn's men to Ostagar. We will find out when we return and inform the King."

She shakes her head. "Poor girl. Lost her family and home all in one night!"

"It's a tragedy," He agrees. "Thank you again for allowing us to rest a short while here. We'll be leaving shortly after first light. The more distance I can put between Ana and Howe's men, the better."

"Of course." She nods. "I will have Sister Gabrielle pack some food for your journey. Anything I can do to help."

Duncan offers her a rare smile. "Thank you revered mother. Just allowing us to rest here is help enough."

Arl Rendon Howe, with his lieutenant in tow, carefully stepped over the bodies of servants, guards and guests alike as they made their way towards the great hall. He watched with his hawk-like stare at the mangled bodies, expecting to see the gleaming embossed breast plate of the Warden-Commander among them. There's no way he could have made it out. He thought to himself. I made sure to send my most capable soldiers to his room to deal with him. He might be known for being a great warrior, but he was outnumbered twenty to one! Coming to a stop before the raised platform with the polished bronze chairs, he scowls. The Couslands were always ones to strive higher than they deserved. He thought spitefully. Here Bryce sat, hearing the people's grievances as though he were the king himself!

Hearing the large doors open from the other side of the chamber, he waits, not moving from his position. "Well?" He asks as one of his soldiers comes into view. "Is it done? Is everyone dead? Are the Couslands—"

The man salutes him. "The Teyrn is dead, Ser." The man nods. "His wife, the Teyrna was with him in the larder."

"Is she still alive?"

"No Ser." The man says, shaking his head. "She fought us but she was eventually brought down by an arrow to the heart by one of our men."

Howe's lips curl into a spiteful grin. "Good. Be sure to put their heads on spikes out at the front of the castle for all to see. I want them to know that the Couslands are no more." Keeping his eyes on the thrones before him, he turns his head. "What about his spoiled bitch of a daughter? What of their grandson, Oren and his Antivan whore of a mother?"

"Fergus's wife and son were slain, Ser." The man says, choosing his words carefully. "We have yet to find the body of Lady Analise."

Howe's gaze darts towards the men, his gaze piercing through him. "What about the Grey Warden? Did you find him at least?"

The soldier twists his hand on his pommel, nervously. "Not yet, My Lord. We've checked everywhere—"

"Then check again!" Howe snaps. "There's no way they could have escaped!"

With a clumsy salute, the soldier rushes off once more as a seething Howe turns to his lieutenant. "Just in case, I want men to patrol the grounds and the surrounding areas. If either of them had somehow escaped, I want them brought back here alive."

"Alive, My Lord?"

"Alive!" Howe spits. "Then when they get dragged back here, I'll have them drawn and quartered right in the center of town before placing their heads right beside the others." He sneers. "I've already sent part of our forces to eliminate Fergus Cousland. Once every single Cousland is dead, I will take my rightful place as Teyrn of Highever."