Chapter Fifteen: The House of the Rising Sun
I couldn't answer the Baron. I just stared up at him, as if incapacitated by a lightning strike. I couldn't speak and I couldn't figure out why. Worse, there was an almost primal urge in me to object. Of course, as you're reading this you have already figured out why. For whatever reason, the idea of letting him see Julie was offensive to me. It went down to my very bones. I like to think it was my own regard for her, but the truth may be that it was something like male territorial instinct. We are all ugly creatures when what we think is ours is threatened, a truth that everyone has witnessed by now. Embarrassing in retrospect, and very much an overreaction. But we can't help how we feel.
Tam's presence did not help matters, adding an immediate desire to defend her to my fears. She was also an obstacle to what the man wanted. Which almost got people killed. I very nearly twitched the barrel of my firelance upwards when she answered on our behalf, unable to hide my distrust of the noble before me.
"She is inside, preparing to meet her sisters," Tam said, stepping forward with her sword in her hand, "What business do you have with her?" Which was the question on all of our minds.
The baron rode a little more into the yard, and his mask turned from me to face Tam. The Qunari wasn't intimidated in the slightest, and maintained a stance that she could spring from to decapitate the horse in a single motion. If she needed to. This calmed me down a good deal, as I saw that I wasn't the only one who found Pierre des Arbes an unwelcome visitor.
"Who are you?" Pierre asked politely, "A Qunari mercenary perhaps... this far south?" Even with a mask on, he appeared unable to understand Tam's presence.
Which made Leha's next words all the more satisfying. "This is Marteau's mistress," she said flatly, "And before you ask, I was as surprised as you to hear it." It surprised me that Leha spoke so casually to the supposed lord of the entire region. Which made me very interested in a lengthy interrogation.
"I thought she spun that tale to delay me," Pierre said slowly, before turning back to Tam, "As well as fend off less worthy men."
"Perhaps you aren't as worthy as you thought," said Tam cheekily, spinning her sword around and sheathing it again. I determined to reward her somehow for that line, because the baron positively flinched at it, taking high offence at the implication that a commoner would reject him. Unfortunately, Armen gave out a small burst of chuckles despite his best attempt to hold it in, drawing attention to him and Ciara. No doubt there would have been a snarl on the face currently hidden by a mask.
"An apostate?" said Pierre, his tone now far less polite, "I suggest you stop laughing with your Dalish friend, and tell me why I shouldn't fetch your head for the Templars." At those words, several of the baron's men stepped forward, weapons readied. Ciara reacted, pulling out her straight dagger, which I was pleased to see. Tam drew her sword again almost casually. Armen just kept smiling, even as the charge on his staff kept building visibly, becoming like a lighthouse beacon pulsing every few seconds with blue arcs. All of which would have scared the living crap out of me if I was the target, even with my resistance to the Fade. We still had not tested the exact extent of my capability. However, I myself didn't move a muscle, having already worked out the details of what to say in this situation with the others.
"He is in my service," I said, deflecting attention back to me, "His knowledge is invaluable, and I have no intention of searching for another as good as he is." Playing the higher ranked noble, albeit a foreign one, was a dangerous gambit. I looked back at Armen, both to get him to say something along similar lines and to get his confirmation. He just shrugged, and relaxed his stance a little.
Pierre des Arbes wheeled his horse around again, and stopped in front of me. I saw his eyes examine me through the mask. I simply returned the gesture, evaluating the man. He was smaller than I was, but was of a similar build. Fighting him hand-to-hand would have been a pain, I could tell. He sat in the saddle like he had been born there, with ease and in perfect harmony with the animal. His armour was of a quality that might had even saved him from my handcannon, if the bullet struck him at an angle.
Des Arbes dismounted and removed his mask, revealing a handsome tanned face and dark-brown hair. His eyes were startlingly grey however, and piercing without the unique colour in their own right. He wanted to talk face-to-face, I realised. I guess it was my turn to be a little intimidated, but there was no way in hell I was going to show it. We squared off, an ice between us.
"I will ask you, Marquis," the baron said, finally getting to the point, "What business do you have here?"
I smiled, but said nothing, searching for the right words.
"Pierre!" came a surprised call from behind me. The voice being very familiar, I turned around with a groan.
Julie stood at her doorway, both hands on her hips. Her red dress looked dazzling in the low morning sun, the colour seeming to smudge off onto the wall beside her. Her hair was brushed out and looked better kept than I had ever seen it. And she was still wearing my boots. My knees went a bit weak at the sight.
Until the Baron pushed past me, and embraced her.
"Thank the Maker, you're alive and free," he said, "No one would guess you had ever been in prison!" Julie sighed, and returned the hug briefly before separating him from her.
Tam and I glanced at each other. We were both uncomfortable with the display. Julie just looked like she hadn't expected it, or perhaps she just had not expected it to happen in her courtyard. The guards backed off at least, moving to positions to block off the street just out of earshot. I guess they got the picture that it wasn't their business.
"I was only imprisoned for a few days," Julie explained, "Not even enough time to go mad."
Pierre smiled at the joke, unaware of the real events and how she may very well have been driven mad had another been selected for the grim task of breaking her. Which I resented of him.
"How were you freed?" he asked, "And what is your association with the Marquis?"
Julie grimaced, hesitant to tell him the story we had concocted. To be truthful, so was I. In the setting of a formal meeting, I would have been comfortable with it. With a bunch of guys ready to wade into us with sword and spear, I was considerably less so. Presumably, all of them could also be counted on to be completely loyal, so anything he said or did would also remain private, which would not have been the case at his baronial court. In the end, we can always rely on Tam to not care about the little nitpicks.
"The Marquis paid her parole and her debt," the Qunari said, "It was no small amount." Paid in blood too.
The Baron rounded back to me very quickly.
"In return for what?" he asked, "I cannot imagine it was a fair proposition." Phrasing.
I ignored him, looking to Julie for some instruction about how to respond. She frowned slightly, sympathising with my plight. Perhaps to stop the Baron from disbelieving me, or doing something stupid if he did believe me, she opted to tell him the lie herself.
"My hand in marriage," said Julie, "That was what I promised to get out."
Pierre stopped dead, as if frozen by a spell in a statue-like pose. Except for his eyes, which moved between all of us. His face was completely despondent, like... well, like his lover had abandoned him. I doubted their relationship was ever at that level, but he certainly wanted it to be. If his hanging around after this incident is any evidence.
"There were conditions," Julie added, trying to calm him, "One was that I be allowed to keep Tam as my mistress, another was that we would live here. It's not like you'll never see me again, he is sacrificing too. He's an explorer from the Far West, he could have brought me further away than anyone could have followed." She took his hands in hers, which sent a pang of jealousy through me. I'm not sure I would have been cheered by those words, but it woke the Baron from his state of shock. He looked back at me, his sense of superiority destroyed. The change shocked me.
"So I am beaten," he said.
"I'm afraid so," I replied softly, not wanting to rub it in any more, "Though not entirely by me."
His eyes tracked to the sword-wielding Tam. He understood and straightened up.
"Then I give you my sincere congratulations," the Baron said, "I shall take my leave."
"Wait, I told your guards that we had business," I interrupted, "That wasn't a lie."
"The Marquis wants to buy some land," said Julie.
Pierre tilted his head for a moment, thinking about it. His lips pursed, which didn't put much confidence in me that he would agree. Particularly after Tam and I had supposedly stolen his would-be wife. Or so I thought. He put his red mask back on and slipped back into his noblesse, as if his outburst of affection for Julie hadn't ever happened. I took that as a good sign.
"What do you need?" he asked, directing the question to Julie. Which was just as well, because as if I would know anything about real estate in a foreign country, in a feudal society, on a different planet, quite possibly in a different universe. And wouldn't ever have to.
"An estate, with a large freehold and residence," she said, "Something suitable." Which meant something suitable for a 'family' of our social position, I imagined. She wasn't the only one with demands though.
"Preferably somewhere not within sight of the town," Armen added, "I am no apostate, my lord, but there are tensions I would rather avoid." Like people who might call down hell on us.
"Oh, a garden too," said Ciara, throwing in her two coppers.
A veritable shopping list of desired features. I was half tempted to throw in a hot-tub and gymnasium equipment for the laugh.
The Baron walked away from us a few steps, turning his back and thinking about it. After a tense minute, he turned about and nodded, agreeing to the demands. Which I had not expected.
"There is one place I can hand over almost immediately," he said, "But there is a problem. The land is not freehold, it is divided into tithed plots as a manor. And the Marquis is higher ranked than I am."
"And you require an oath of fealty for us to buy that land," said Julie, before I could screw up and ask why it was a problem, "What can we do?"
"Oh, I could let you have it for free, on two conditions," Pierre said coyly, "First, I require an alliance between our two houses. Since marriage is not possible, you will have to swear an oath before the Chantry." It sounded like a pain in the ass, but words are wind and I had firelances.
"Done," I said quickly.
He hadn't expected me to agree so readily, I think. Perhaps because I was foreign, and he wasn't sure if I was Andrastian. I'm not, admittedly, my old faith was one of the few things that I kept from my life on Earth, as passive about it as I was. However, not paying for the land in return for helping this guy for a month or two was very doable, in my opinion. He could hardly object if I broke the arrangement later, with the assistance of UN troops holding him at gunpoint. Unfortunately for him, I would find out less than a day later that my sojourn in Thedas was permanent.
"What is the other condition?" Tam asked.
The question seemed to excite the Baron.
"What do you mean its haunted?!" I asked loudly.
We were walking down the gravel-strewn road southwards, in the direction of the manor that would apparently be mine by dinnertime. It was only a mile's walk from the palisade gates, yet this road didn't seem to be well-travelled at all. In fact, the only people on the road were my fine self, Armen, Ciara and Leha. Julie had went with Tam to greet her sisters and tell them the 'big news', probably with the Baron tagging along like a bad smell. So the dwarf led us onwards to our destination, talking about the place like it was the gate to hell.
"No one who stays there ever comes out of it alive," Leha said, too casually, "There used to be nobles there, the Baron's cousins, but the House of Repose killed them all in one night about two years ago and the manor passed to him. The two managers he sent disappeared the day after he sent them, and the servants with them. It's a cursed place." The House of Repose just sounded like a band name to me, but if they killed an entire noble family in a single night, I didn't need much explanation beyond that.
"And he wants me to wander around in it until we find the source of the curse?" I said, "He's trying to get me killed. Even if it isn't demons or possessed trees."
"Undoubtedly," said Armen, "It's all part of the Game. He wants Julie, but can't just kill you himself. His prestige is at stake if he didn't at least try to get you killed in an accident." The temptation to go back and put my foot up his ass was overwhelming. I'd like to see his prestige ever recover from that. Though one part of the mage's explanation caught my ear.
"You keep mentioning this... Game like it means something," I said, "What is it? The Game of Thrones?"
The other three looked at each other with a peculiar thought on their faces, as if I had said something far more witty than they expected from me. Which pissed me off.
"That's actually a very good way to put it," said Armen, "It's a game for power and prestige, involving murder, intrigue, spies, and marriage-bonds."
"Every place has something like that," said Ciara, "Even my old clan. It's just that the shems in Orlais take it to an art form, or so they'd say. You don't have anything like that where you're from?"
"In our country, it's money and the love of the people that decides things, usually," I mused, "Which of the two dominates depends on what the question is about." Money tended to decide things more often, though, it has to be said.
"Like Antiva then," said Leha, "The Far-West sounds like an interesting place."
"That it is," I said, not wanting to get into it, "Perhaps less interesting than the murder-trap we're walking into."
"Look on the bright side," said Armen, "You'll have triumphed over the Baron if you live." Which would tickle me, to say the least. Didn't answer the big question though.
"Why does a noble want to marry a commoner in the first place?" I asked, "Is Julie just so beautiful that she can get over that hurdle?" I certainly thought she was.
Leha laughed throatily at that, as if it was a joke.
"He's already married," she said, wiping tears from her eyes, "He wants her as a mistress."
"What," I growled, "The bastard."
"He's already married to some noble childhood friend of his, even has kids in Halamshiral," Leha explained, "It was a political marriage, they don't really love each other like that. Or so he told Julie. She plays the Game up there, does law-work for the Crown to increase her standing." I should have gotten more angry, but something had clicked in my mind, distracting me completely.
I had met Pierre's wife.
Cecile des Arbes. My prosecutor, or persecutor perhaps, in the farcical pre-trial proceeding I had went through before our escape from prison. I cursed loudly, thinking myself stupid for not realising sooner. Their family name was the same and they even wore very similar masks. It was just that so much had happened between the escape that I wasn't able to catch it. It was an unwelcome development to put it mildly, and I predicted to myself that I'd be shooting Pierre as soon as his wife came back for a visit. Which I was agreeable to, admittedly.
"Cheer up," said Ciara, mistaking my curses for despair, "She likes you. They both do." They meaning Tam and Julie both.
Those words helped, dissolving my fears instantly. The burning sensation in my head dissipated. Ciara was a perceptive girl, after all. "Thank you," I replied with a smile, "I hope so."
"I think the words you're looking for are 'she loves him', or he would hope so," said Leha, "They're betrothed, after all, even if it does reek of a political marriage as well." Perhaps it was. The plan wasn't for us to actually get married, but rather for us to escape to Earth. Her implication therefore didn't really offend me.
"You're saying that she is using him to advance herself?" chuckled Armen, "I don't think so."
"All I know is that she has both your lordship and the giantess wrapped around her finger," Leha continued, "And she's always had delusions about changing things."
"I'm perfectly fine being wrapped around any part of her," I joked, "Tam too."
"Just as long as you know," said Leha, "I'm here for the profits this is going to bring in. Looking to retire early and live like a queen. Nothing else."
"Then you and I are going to be good friends," I said. Of course, that was more true than either of us could have imagined.
Past a very leafy set of trees aligned in a row at the edge of the forest, the manor itself came into view, stopping our advance.
It was a mansion or a small palace to my eyes. Surrounding it was a stone wall to about waist height, tipped with sturdy metal fence. Beyond that was a courtyard paved precisely in a dark, smooth stone right up until the building itself. From the angle we were approaching from, its layout was plainly that of a thick square. There was a gate on the ground floor that led to an overgrown garden situated in the middle of the complex. There were various outbuildings as well, peasant housing and a stable from what I could see, but there were others I couldn't readily identify.
The building itself looked like it could take a serious hit or two even from weapons I would have been more familiar with, never mind a trebuchet or a cannon. The walls were all grey limestone or something similar, punctuated by tall windows, revealing that it had three floors. The roofs were sloped and covered in blue-black slate. Most of the windows were covered with wooden shutters, painted the same colour as the roof tiles.
It was a god-damned château.
"Well, that's creepy," I said, "It's empty, but it looks like it could hold hundreds of people. Too big." Also looked like every dead idiot from there to Tevinter could congregate, which was what I thought was going on.
"Nothing is too big for a nobleperson," said Armen, "Trust me."
"You types don't live in estates where you're from?" asked Leha, surprised at the revelation.
Afraid to give away my secret, I gave her the truth. Sort of.
"In the countryside, maybe. It's all high towers in the cities," I said, "I lived in the city." I hadn't lived in a skyscraper though. No way I earned enough for a condo in a central location. That's not what I was in the game for, so to speak, though I admired those who were. Like my brother and sister, both of whom were much more money-grubbing than I ever was before I came to Thedas.
"Well, get used to it," Leha said, finding a seat on a large rock, "The house is the last thing you need to worry about, what's inside it is a little more of a problem."
I sighed again. The Baron had said it was best to just take one other person with me to search, because large numbers of people didn't seem to be attacked. In the day time, at least. My suspicion that it was just a ploy to thin out our numbers was practically confirmed by that, to kill Armen and I in particular.
"You and you, stay here," I said to Leha and the mage, pointing at them and then the ground, "Ciara, you ready?"
The Dalish girl had got her hands on a shortbow made of unidentifiable bone and wood, courtesy of the fletcher that lived two doors down from Julie's smithy. Well, not courtesy of, he charged two silvers for it and Ciara had to haggle him down to that. To answer me, she began warming it up with a smile, before grabbing three arrows from a pouch to hold with it.
"Why do I have to stay?" asked Armen, almost pouting.
"To kill des Arbes if I die in there," I joked. He cocked his head with a huh, before seeming to accept it. Leha seemed pretty damn pleased not to be going in, crossing her legs and bouncing the raised foot up and down as she watched us with an attentive visage. Ignoring her obvious lack of real care for my life, I took a breath to steady myself for the inevitable BS to come, before waving Ciara over.
"Okay Scooby Doo, let's go unmask the bad guy," I said, marching forwards, "Need to earn those Scooby-Snacks."
Ciara practically skipped along beside me, not bothered by my joke. If you're confused about what I was talking about, you're not from around where I live. Or lived, if you're reading this a good number of years after I'm dead. Though I hear it's popular in Ferelden. A leak of information I couldn't have prevented.
We entered through the gated archway into the centre garden, myself in front with kite shield and mace ready and Ciara to the rear with an arrow nocked. Some would say this was a bit unwise, considering I had a firelance that could supposedly kill almost anything. However, after my experience with the sylvans and the 'haunted' reputation of the place, I had opted for something a bit more up close and personal, so I could exploit the ability against magical crap that I had gained. Bullets didn't seem to pick up the power, at least at ranges that made that sort of thing useful.
The garden was a jungle of weeds and bushes that hadn't been kept in years, the cross-roads style path nearly disappearing between the verges. Each section of the crossed path lead to another archway leading out, and between them in the walls were heavy doors that were almost certainly locked. On both the left and right, staircases rose from the corners of the buildings and reached over two of the arches, leading to the middle and top floors. I frowned, getting the ominous feeling you get when you know something is going to go absolutely pear-shaped.
"Well, at least it has a garden," Ciara chimed in happily, "It'll be great once it's trimmed." You'd need a chainsaw, my dear. Or a mage.
"Do you think this place has a basement?" I asked her wearily.
"Houses usually do here," she replied, "For keeping things cold in summer." No refrigeration, again. I decided that cutting right to the chase and going for the most cliché place to find the monster or ghost or psychotic killer wasn't what I wanted to do. I pointed at the right-side staircase with my mace.
"Well then, let's try the middle floor first and head up," I said, "I'm not suicidal enough to go straight for the basement just yet."
Ciara nodded rapidly, trusting my judgment. Which made me feel a bit old, but reminded me of the cheerful waitress she had been when I had first met her. I smiled back at her, and we took the stairs to the main level. We could see into the rooms all the way around once we had climbed halfway, but nothing moved. Encouraged, I tried the handle of the rather ornate door. When it refused me, a sharp kick brought it to heel, albeit at the expense of a large amount of sound.
"PIZZA DELIVERY!" I roared as I entered, doubling down on the noise, "DOUBLE PEPPERONI!" Standing in the corridor, I awaited a response to my ridiculous challenge with my shield up and my mace at the ready.
The wood making up the internal structure of the building creaked, including the floor below our feet, but nothing else stirred in the house as far as I could tell. Not even scurrying rodent feet, which I would have expected at the very least. I must have been smirking at my own wit, because Ciara shook her head at me.
"That was a bad idea," she said, her lyrical accent pronounced with disapproval.
"You're probably right, but I couldn't resist... Sometimes you just have to put them off-balance with a surprising line," I conceded, "Shall we take a tour of the palace?"
The corridors were all along the inside wall of the 'square' building, open all the way around and lined with windows. There was evidence that there had been paintings, bookcases or furniture in some places, but the place must have been cleared out of anything particularly valuable. There were no less than thirty six rooms on the middle floor. Most of them still had bed-frames without bedding, but little else. Some couches covered in sheets were left, sometimes ajar from where they should have been. Fireplaces still had unburned wood in them.
My overall impression was of a rush job to get as much out of the place as possible.
Despite the neglect, the paint and walls were holding up very well. There seemed to be no real peeling, just some fading of the colours where the sun could reach the wall during the day. No wildlife had got in either, from the missing smells. It was just wood in the air. What I found peculiar was a complete lack of dust in the place. I ran my finger over the headboard of a bed in the first room we checked out, and it came back pretty clean.
As for my impressions of the place as a potential home, it was definitely what we'd call a fixer-upper. I didn't think we'd ever be able to buy enough furniture to put into a place like this, and nor would we need to for a mere few months' stay. It was extremely extravagant, to say the least. Without more people, it would be a strangely lonely place too. However, with Armen potentially going to contact the mages, there would probably be a few more people around the place. Not to mention that the Baron talked of 'vassals', about which I had no idea at that point.
We completed the sweep of the middle floor, and still not feeling up to getting down to the basement, I directed us up a spiral staircase in the northwest corner of the building to check on the top floor. It was pretty much identical to the floor below, down to the room placements, except that the roof slanted inwards in each of the bedrooms.
"Nothing," said Ciara, as we checked what had to be the sixtieth door, not even bothering to enter the rooms at this point. She was getting frustrated, to my alarm.
"Tell me," I began, wanting to know why she was displeased at not finding ghosts, "Why did you leave your clan?" Armen had filled me in a little on the Dalish, and it seemed unlikely that members of groups like that would just up and leave.
"Adventure," said Ciara, looking into another room down the corridor, "I guess I.."
She didn't get to finish the sentence.
A loud groan of wood erupted from above, which saved my life. As I turned, shield up, a huge insect jumped down onto me. A spider, the size of which I had never seen before. My blood filled with fear and shock, as its weight slammed me to the ground on my back. Clusters of eyes stuck into a black carapace stared at me angrily, pincers making up its mouth snapping at my chest.
I struggled desperately to put the shield between me and the maw of the thing, the metal screeching with every glancing blow. Its front legs manoeuvred to pin me down, but swift kicks and strikes with my mace dissuaded that. I didn't seem to do much more though, the mace wasn't the ideal weapon to fight with from the ground. I couldn't get a full swing off to do some real damage, but if I dropped it for my handcannon, the spider would have been on me in milliseconds. I cursed like a sailor, streaming the insults off as I fought for my life.
A white-fletched arrow hissed into the spider's maw as its head drew back for another strike. The monster didn't make any noise, but it recoiled backwards in pain nonetheless, helped along with another kick from me. I scrambled away from it, as Ciara loosed another arrow into it. To my immense relief, she made her mark well, striking one of its eye-clusters. It shuddered on the spot, which sent a bolt of fear down my spine. My response was to unsling my firelance and aim, with the intention of putting five rounds rapid into the thing before it recovered and then gloating.
However, it could sense the danger, and scurried back the way it had came. Up an unfolding wooden stairway leading to a dark attic, twitching and scrabbling as it moved. I slapped myself on the helmet for my now-revealed mistake. Of course the attic was a candidate location for where something would be hiding I thought to myself, positively startled by my own stupidity. Ciara approached, third arrow nocked and peered up. I was busy sucking in as much oxygen as I could, settling myself down a little.
"It nearly got you," she said, all business now, "Nasty thing." I was absolutely certain I'd be having nightmares about the moment for years to come, which made my appreciation of her presence all the greater.
"Yeah, I owe you big-time for this," I said, doubling over and breathing hard, "Thanks for saving my big dumb ass."
"My pleasure," said Ciara, "Fight's not over yet, it'll hide up there until we draw it out."
I had an idea about just leaving it up there until it bled to death. Its wounds weren't the kind you recover from. Except the doubts at the back of my head reminded me that I wasn't on Earth, and that the monstrous spider might even now be recovering from its wounds. Which meant we had to deal with it sooner, rather than later.
"So much for the haunted theory," I said with a frown, "We're going up there, unless it's a bad idea?"
Ciara shook her head. "I've only seen giant spiders in forests and caves," she said, "Only thing for it is to get in and destroy the nest."
Nest? Wonderful.
"Are there more than one of them?" I asked.
"That one was carrying an egg-sack, so I don't think so," said Ciara, not sounding sure. Which did little to reassure me. I hadn't seen any eggs. Just murderous eyes and too much pincer.
"I'll draw it out," I said, "You shoot from the stairs." I really didn't want to, but the thought of using a sixteen year old as bait for a carnivorous spider would have been more grating on my sense of self. With nothing else for it, I snapped my flashlight onto the barrel of my firelance, turned it on and began climbing. The wood groaned again under my weight, announcing my presence.
The attic was as large as the corridor below, the roof slanting on two sides. It was ribbed with both large wooden supports and chimneys ascending from the fireplaces below. I had expected to see desiccated husks of dead human beings, but none were there. If I stood in the exact middle of the space, I had just enough room to stand up comfortably under the slate and wood to see. Ciara came up behind me, her eyes glinting slightly in the darkness as elvish eyes tend to do. Relying on her to cover my back, I aimed down to the corner directly in front of me.
Sure enough, there the spider was, writhing in pain. It must have hit the arrows stuck inside of it off of something, because it was bleeding far more profusely than before. Infuriated that it had put me in a compromised position, I raised my firelance once more and shot it once. The bullet went through-and-through, impacting the wood behind with a thud followed by a splatter of blood. I had hit the bulbous part of its body, and it collapsed dead. I fired a few more shots for good measure on reflex, for my own gratification.
"Hunt!" shouted Ciara from the gloom behind me. I spun around, just in time to illuminate another giant spider. I couldn't get a clear shot past without hitting her, to my distress. I thought the thing would be on her, her bow unable to hurt it enough. I scrambled forwards. She proved more able.
The young Dalish huntress loosed an arrow. It whispered over her gloved hand and straight into the middle of the spider's … face. The creeping sprint that it had been in the middle of suddenly veered off to the side, and to my astonishment, the spider impacted a pair of shutters and tumbled out of the window. The attic flooded with sunlight as we stood for a moment, not sure what exactly had happened. Until Ciara turned around to me, a big smile on her face.
"That was a good shot, wasn't it?" she asked happily, "Didn't think it would jump out the window though."
I laughed, all my fears released by the sheer absurdity of what had happened and Ciara's own oblivious confidence. Armen was a luckier man than I had previously thought.
"You probably hit its brain," I said, "Put an arrow through my head, and I might accidentally jump out a window too." Ciara laughed again at that.
I strode over, put on my sunglasses and had a look down. The spider was below on the stone patio, laying on its back gravely wounded but still alive. A chance to exact revenge.
"Help me drag that other one over here," I said to Ciara, "And we'll finish up."
With some difficulty, we tossed the dead spider out of the window and shut it again, before descending again to the courtyard. A few glances down the stairs showed that there were what I thought were storerooms on the ground floor, and basements below that. No more spiders, thank God. I could live a thousand years and it would still be too early to see more of them. Too bad I would.
Ciara and I exited the overgrown garden through the archway just behind where the spiders had fallen, which happened to be the same one we entered from. Armen and Leha looked over, and I gave them a small wave to hurry them closer.
"Spiders?" Armen asked, gingerly poking one of the monsters' bodies with the end of his staff, "So, no curse?"
"Looks like it," I replied, "They were hiding in the attic."
"No bodies either," said Ciara, "Wonder where they put them?"
"Probably dumped them somewhere outside," said Leha, "Surface spiders tend to do that, to keep the nest clear."
"I wonder how they got in there," I said, looking up at the windows, "The place was locked up tight before we came along."
"The House of Repose," Leha mused, "They could have left the spiders as hatchlings, they sometimes leave nasty surprises for the friends of targets, if their clients request it." Just for shits and giggles, I guess? Orlesian nobles are vindictive sons of bitches. Everyone knew that, but I was learning.
"Or they could have just crept in some other way," said Armen, "It doesn't really matter as long as you're both alive." Ciara smiled and went over to him, and they did the goo-goo eye thing for a bit.
The spider that jumped began moving its legs slowly, curling and straightening to fight to get its bearings. The others all backed off. I approached and inspected it. Sure enough, it looked like the spider was still conscious on some level. Its many eyes tracked me as I walked past its head. I stopped in front of it, so it could watch as I ended its life. I guess I'm a vindictive son of a bitch too. Pissed that I had been jumped, I pulled the magazine out of my firelance, checked it, and slapped it back in. Ready.
"What's that?" asked Leha, getting interested now. From a distance.
"You'll see in a minute," I replied, not moving my gaze from the spider's own. Leha didn't respond, probably because she was wondering if I was mad. I was after all holding a strange piece of metal that didn't seem to have much function.
Before I could shoot, the sound of a horse's hooves drew my attention, and I skirted the dying spider again to see. Tam was riding up on Fritz quickly, through the road's gap in the hedgerow and onto the paved environs of the mansion itself. Her helmet was off.
"What's she in a hurry for?" asked Armen.
"I guess we're going to find out," I replied, waving to her.
Tam slowed the horse as she approached close by, and dismounted beside me. With a glance at the spiders, she hugged me briefly before speaking.
"Julie is bringing her sisters to meet you," said Tam quickly, "But the Baron brought the Revered Mother. She sent me ahead to warn you, they are only a minute behind me."
Warn me? I smirked, realising that this was an excellent chance. Pierre des Arbes had possibly sent me here to die. I hadn't, yet the job of clearing the 'curse' was not yet entirely complete. It was time for a demonstration of my capabilities. One that would dissuade the Baron from another such transparent attempt to separate our group, as well as convince him that I was a useful friend to have. There was one snag, however.
"Ciara, Armen, are you going to stay to meet the priestess?" I asked, not sure if that would cause trouble or not, "I'll back your play." The two elves looked at each other, before standing their ground. Which pleased me.
"I have no intention of hiding," said Armen firmly, "I am no crazed blood mage." Good man, I thought.
"And I can pretend to believe in the Maker for a few minutes," Ciara joked.
"Me too," I replied. Assuming the Maker and my Creator aren't actually the same deity, or if both exist but Thedas is the Maker's realm rather than God's. Or neither exist, though I don't believe that. Still haven't really figured that out, which is why none of my children and grandchildren share my exact faith.
"I'm not sure I can," said Tam, "Who would believe that I believe?" It was a good point, but I had a solution.
"Then ask to convert if it becomes a problem," I replied, "Preachers love people who come to them for guidance, it's the whole point of being a preacher." Tam rubbed her neck, like she didn't like the idea, but didn't seem to have any other ideas.
The thumping of more horses came down the road ahead of the actual horses. Perfect timing, I thought, removing my own helmet and replacing it with my blue beret.
"Okay, can you guys get out of the way for a second?" I asked, "Move a little more over there." I indicated away from the archway and the spiders, so the riders would have a clear view of what I was doing. They complied, and turned to watch the newcomers arrive.
Inevitably, the Baron led the way, this time with only two retainers on horseback. He was still dressed in his armour and mask. Behind him was a young woman in robes on a brown pony, with short blonde hair and sharp eyes. This had to be the priestess, I knew. I guessed it was the 'firebrand' that Julie had talked about too, rather than the elder whom had taught people to read. Perhaps I should have thought of that as a bad sign.
At the back, Julie rode with her half-sisters. They were both olive-skinned, though the shape of their faces was different to hers, obviously the result of their parentage. They wore dresses too, albeit more modest ones than the scarlet of the eldest. I have to say they were very beautiful in their own right and in different manners. Of course they were, they were related to Julie. I couldn't figure out from that distance which one was Élodie and which was Claire, the former's baby-bump not visible yet. Sorry, Earth terminology again.
I turned around from the approaching group, and back to the spiders. I raised my firelance to my shoulder, aimed at the barely-alive spider and shot a burst into it. With messy results. As horses neighed loudly behind me, the regular clip-clop of their shoes turning irregular, I sent another burst into the dead one for good measure. Perhaps a waste of ammunition, but I still had thousands of bullets for the firelance at this stage. And it had the effect I wanted.
I flicked the safety on and checked the results. As expected, the newcomers were all flabbergasted, except for Julie, who looked like she was watching a movie with popcorn. Incidentally, Leha's eyes looked like they'd pop out of her head, which was a nice bonus. Excellent. I smiled graciously, and after nodding to Tam to follow, moved towards our guests with a casual gait.
"Marquis, what in the name of the Maker..." began the Baron, his voice wavering as he tried to express himself.
"It was giant spiders killing everyone, not spirits," I said, passing him by and paying him no real heed, "No bother at all." An outburst of disbelief or exasperation erupted from behind the mask, very ignobly.
The Chantry mother watched both of us as we passed, particularly Tam, who tapped the top of her dagger with her palm when she was level. Instinct, I guessed. Not that the priestess would have been any match in a fight, but the hostility was pouring off of her. Firebrand indeed.
Finally, we came to Julie. I took her free hand and kissed it gently, eliciting a confused look, before turning to her sisters. One was in a light brown workdress, another was in a blue dress.
"Ladies, I am Lord Samuel Hunt, the Marquis de la Fayette," I said with a theatrical short bow, "I presume I have the pleasure of meeting Élodie and Claire?" I was getting results on the etiquette of being a noble simply by playing to popular notions of the concept from Earth. It was a good laugh, behaving like some guy out of an old movie. The two sisters' pairs of deep brown eyes looked me over, trying to decide what to make of me. I was genuinely happy to meet them.
"You do," said Élodie finally, distinguishable in her blue dress and long braided hair as the older of the two, "You saved Julie?"
"Well, I had the help of Tam here," I said modestly, as the Qunari stepped forward, "I'm sure you know all about her already." Claire nodded, her eyes agape with wonder. I guess Julie had spun the mistress tale pretty deep with her youngest sister. Élodie looked less impressed, even disapproving.
"I did what I could," Tam added, inclining her head to them with a warm smile of her own. And what she could was disembowel the gaoler. Good thing he deserved it, I thought.
"What did you do just now?" Claire asked, a very Julie-like curiosity on her face, "To the spiders, I mean." The others had dismounted and joined the circle by now, and their faces revealed a great deal of curiosity on that very subject as well.
"Just used a weapon from my country," I said with a wave of my hand, "Big spiders aren't any real threat." Which was perhaps a little too flippant, even if it did earn me another outburst from Pierre. Mission accomplished on the demonstration of my capabilities, at any rate.
"That is enough bragging out of you," joked Julie, nudging me, "I know you're trying hard to impress them, but there are limits." I suppose I was trying to impress them. Or at least, upstage the Baron. I threw my hands up in jest surrender.
"Okay, I give up," I said, "But you should come take a look at our new home, meet our friends."
"An apostate mage, a Dalish and a Qunari?" came the honeyed, formal voice from behind, "What manner of friends are those?" The Revered Mother spoke to me. Her words rubbed me the wrong way entirely, both being out of turn and insulting. When I turned to her, I found the Baron equally offended. Which was a strange sensation.
"They're all Andrastian. As am I, thanks to Julie. The mage is a healer," I said, "I intend to set up a hospital." An idea that came to me a split-second before. Medical care is high on the priority list for the United Nations, so I suppose it came more or less naturally. I had no doubt such a thing would be true of a religious leader. Of course, the problem was that hospitals didn't exist in Thedas.
"A hospital?" the Revered Mother asked, "What is that?" Jackpot.
"A place where the sick and injured can find treatment," I said over my confusion, "My country values such things."
"The Marquis is from the Far West, as I have told you," explained the Baron, "Marquis, this is Revered Mother Héloise Brandon of the Hearth Chantry."
"A noble ideal," the Mother said, "Perhaps there is hope for you after all." Her features softened a good bit, though it took the space of Tam shifting her weight on her feet for them to return to the hard-ass image this cleric clearly liked to show.
"I certainly think so," I said cheerfully, dissembling my irritation at her racism against my lover away. She didn't appear to catch my deception, though her type rarely can.
The Baron walked up to me, nodded to himself and slapped me on both shoulders. Which was almost as alarming as the giant spider landing on me. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that was another spider, just one of a different kind.
"You have done what I asked, against my expectations," he said, "Shall we confirm our alliance?"
With the mask on, I couldn't read whether or not he meant me further harm or intended to use me. Either possibility would have brought trouble. However, seeing no other choice and with the expectation of rescue, I could only agree to it. I would find out what he intended soon enough. Still, I looked to both Julie and Tam before speaking. Both looked encouraged.
"I think that's for the best," I said.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Go Ciara! Another chapter that was meant to be part of the last one, but grew too large. So I guess there'll be yet another fairly soon. Reading the Masked Empire at the moment for flavour on Orlais, depicts the country pretty much exactly how I imagined it.
This fiction now has a TV Tropes page courtesy of Drgyen, which you can check out and add to yourselves. Or add it to the Dragon Age recommended fanfics list if you're feeling particularly generous.
Ripper1337: You called it.
5 Coloured Walker: Sam brought along the spare uniforms of Fraser's squad, some of whom were bigger than he was. Tam is small for a Qunari and has smaller horns, though they remain big enough to be obvious.
If you want to see what I based my image of Tam on, go check out the Female Qunari picture on the Qunari page on the Dragon Age Wikia. Aside from the face, that's what I picture when I think about her.
Meebsterman: Favourite story on this site? That is high praise, sir.
As for what state Hunt is from, I might as well tell you because it can't really be explained properly in the story... He's from Massachusetts, though that's not the whole picture. I see his family background as being more diverse in terms of states. Father from Virginia, Mother from Mass., grandparents from a variety of eastern states. What sort of people they were will come out in the story. East Coast though, definitely.
Comavampure: Perhaps the Baron is a kink in their plans? Perhaps not. We'll see.
I loved the idea of Tam too much to exclude her from the romance, and the idea of Julie and Tam competing seemed... too archetypical, perhaps even sexist. Also, it would be a bit hard to include her on a HUGE plot point if the multiship didn't exist.
Also, the teethbrushing moment was a shout-out to your Maker, Have Mercy fic.
Judy: Judy uber alles!