Chapter Thirty-Two: Palace
The gates to the Winter Palace opened slowly, the whole magnificent building framed by the rolling hills behind and illuminated brightly by the evening sun. When the doors had finally swung as far as they could go, a formation of guards in parade order moved beyond them. The causeway was still a mess, but the debris had been pushed to one side at least and there were no bodies that I could see. The marble walls lining it were charred and the darker grey slate on the ground was covered with ashes and what could only be blood. Spent arrows rested in the mix.
As you can imagine, it wasn't the most encouraging sight. I sat atop Bellona at the city's entrance to the passageway, contemplating what I was seeing. The Comte d'Halamshiral had sent word of his intention to surrender, but that was meaningless as far as I was concerned unless the man was in front of me offering up his sword. He wasn't known as a significant military figure, he wasn't even a chevalier as far as I remember, but he did possess one of the largest military forces in Orlais. On paper. Support for our cause among the common soldiery of the Dalish Crownlands was ubiquitous. They would come over to our side in the next few days by the thousands. That didn't mean anything either. The Comte could still put a crossbow bolt into me and seriously damage our cause, or worse, kill Julie and end the revolution entirely.
I was entranced by the sight ahead, and didn't notice Tam come up alongside me. She pat me on the shoulder. I turned my head, finding her violet eyes examining the scene. When she had seen enough, she looked at me and flicked her chin towards the gate.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked gravely, "Maybe we should send the Guard in first."
I hummed my approval of the proposal, but spoke against it with no shortage of bitterness. "Can't show any weakness," I said, "I have to ride in there like the conqueror I supposedly am."
Tam snorted slightly, choking down her amusement at that concept.
"As you wish, Arishok," she said in jest.
I groaned my displeasure at that comparison, and wheeled Bellona around. A few steps later, and I drew up alongside de Villars, to issue orders.
"Vice-Regal Guard will dismount and form a column" I said to her, "You stay mounted." Blondie gave a short nod, before wheeling her own horse around to address the patriot chevaliers. She bellowed a repetition of my command, and her nobles slid off their horses with a grace, like they had been born in the saddle. The horseboys quickly removed the mounts. The chevaliers drew their swords and rested them on their shoulders, drawing together in close ranks. They looked to me as something like a giant spiked caterpillar. An angry one, too.
Julie, Ciara, Armen and Leha rode around the corner from the marketplace, after having spent the time between our victory on the field and that moment talking to angry elves about letting the royalists go free. I would have told them that murdering people in cold blood is wrong and they shouldn't do it, but Julie apparently promised to try the nobles that remained. There was no shortage of confusion over why chevaliers were fighting with the Free Army either, but Ciara managed to smooth that over. Regardless, Julie led the group, a blank look on her face as she regarded Tam and I. A look that had become familiar since the assassinations.
"Have they tried anything?" she asked with urgency. She was almost relishing the prospect that she'd have the excuse to kill the Comte. It was getting to the point that she didn't care who had ordered the murders, and that any noble not on her side was guilty.
"No, they've just opened the gates," I replied, "Our turn."
"What are we waiting for?" Ciara said, with a wave of her hand, "Let's do it."
"I still say it would have been better to let us do the honours," Armen cut in, "Less chance of it going wrong."
"Except everyone has seen magic before," I said, "No one has seen what we're about to do. Yet."
"Can I send the signal?" Armen asked.
"Do it," I said. Keeping the Comte waiting seemed like bad manners, regardless of whether or not he wanted us dead.
Armen raised his staff over his head and a bolt of lightning burst from it, the light moving from its tip to the dry moat below the causeway. The thunder accompanied it was deafening, making me rub my ear a little as it echoed off the walls and hills back to us. Short of more radio receivers, it was pretty much the best we could do where signals were concerned. Those it was meant for got the message.
About a kilometre away, on top of a hill overlooking the north eastern part of the wall surrounding the palace itself, our Tranquil gunners began to make their own thunder. The cannons flashed, the sight of the smoke and the bolts reaching us before the sound. By this point, we had about forty field guns and two of the big siege pieces. They all targeted the same section of wall nearby the Chantry.
The Winter Palace was not designed to withstand a siege. In fact, its defences were basically designed to keep out what it had faced hours before; rioters. As well as the occasional Avvar barbarians lacking siege weapons. Trebuchets would have brought down the walls in a couple of hours. Our cannons brought them down in minutes. Three volleys to be exact. Each volley reaped a rocky crunching sound that boomed past us. The first stripped the section of its white marble sheath, the second mangled the structure into a stack of broken pieces, and the third toppled the whole thing over.
I smiled a little, pleasantly surprised by the speed by which we had achieved it. The walls weren't all that tall, but they had looked pretty wide to me. Turns out half of the construction was in marble, stripped from old elven buildings that had used the stuff entirely. I was not an engineer, such things were a mystery to me generally. The Tranquil began mounting up their cannons to their ammunition carts again, and rolled away, escorted by the lancers.
With the walls breached, the Comte could now surrender with honour. All we had to do was go talk to him, and accept his sword.
"Leha, Ciara, you ride with me," Julie began, "I think it's best if the treasurer and vice-chancellor help me do the honours, rather than the soldiers. Sam, Tam, keep back." She turned Revas to proceed down the causeway without us.
That wasn't going to happen on my watch. I gave a tug on the reins and clicked my tongue, sending Bellona into a fast trot ahead of Julie and the others, before putting the horse in their way.
"No," I said.
"No?" Julie asked back.
I wanted to plead with her to understand her own importance, that she was in constant danger and shouldn't go in without an escort. That wouldn't have flown with her though, and my mind raced to come up with an alternative. I took far too long, giving away the game entirely and getting a frown for my trouble. Luckily, I wasn't completely at a loss.
"The Comte isn't a royal, right?" I blurted out.
Julie, Tam and Ciara all looked at me like I was mad, eyebrows raised. Leha and Armen didn't react at all.
"No, he's not," Julie said, "So?"
"So it would be inappropriate for you to meet him," I continued, "You're of a higher rank than he is."
There was a pause. "I don't see your point," Julie said.
"Let Ciara come with me, along with the Vice-Regal Guard," I said, "The Comte can surrender to her instead." Sorry Ciara, but if you died, the revolution would live on.
Julie tapped her chin with her forefinger, her eyes raised to the heavens. Slowly, a beaming smile spread across her face, and her emerald irises returned to me.
"That would humiliate him," she said with relish, "I like it. Ciara, go with him."
Our vice-Chancellor nodded with a smile of her own, and trotted ahead of the pack. I motioned to Louise to have the chevaliers move, and fell in behind Ciara as we navigated the debris and ashes. Tam came with, not content to let either Julie or I get into harm's way without her being able to get between whatever it was and ourselves.
I fixed my beret firmly onto my head, and we approached the palace. It loomed over us, the nearest thing to a skyscraper that Thedas had to offer outside of the Tevinter Imperium.
Ciara rode through the gate at a half-gallop, and around the large waterfalls, threading through the line of guards that watched intently. I winced. That would have been the perfect moment for the ambush, if it was coming. No crossbow bolts thummed through the air, and I had to consciously start breathing again as I myself passed the threshold. Tam and Louise came next, drawing up along side me, and finally, our patriot chevaliers in black.
On the steps to the first level of the wedding cake that was the palace building stood Pierre Montclair, Comte of Halamshiral. He was dressed in the royal colours, save for his enamelled mask, which was in his own white and black colours. He was entirely average in stature. Not tall, not short, not thin and just overweight enough so you'd know he was a noble, not decked out in jewels like a Persian like so many of his contemporaries yet wearing his badges of office. His stock went up in my books.
He moved towards us, six bodyguard chevaliers joining him. One of them, the largest, handed him a longsword with a golden, jewel-encrusted basket handle. He drew the blade, revealing it to be dragonbone. Which made it more expensive than our entire château, in all likelihood. Only reason I knew at all was the dragon fangs I still had tucked away in our basement. Dragonbone could only be worked into blades by a very small number of masters. Far easier to make bows out of it, incidentally.
Montclair grabbed the sword in deep purple gloves, dragonling leather if I was any judge, and offered it up to me handle-first.
"Lord Hunt, I offer you my surrender and the city of Halamshiral," he said in restrained Orlesian tones, "I ask only that my soldiers be shown every courtesy."
"Lord Montclair, your soldiers will be spared except for those who participated in atrocities," I said, before pointing to Ciara, "And you're to offer your sword to the vice-Chancellor."
The Comte's mask swivelled towards our Dalish friend, who was loving every second of it, and back to me. "Lord Hunt, I do not mean to offend you, but... she is..." he said, hesitant.
"She's an elf, yes," I said, completing his complaint for him, "You've probably noticed that most people in the Dales are elves." Well, in the eastern Dales anyway.
"If I surrender to her, I will be dishonoured in the Imperial Court," he said, "I may never recover my position."
"Comte, your position is already lost," I snarled, "And by the time we're finished, there may not be an Imperial Court."
The Comte froze. The prospect hadn't even occurred to him. Rebellions in Orlais were rarely so ambitious. It didn't help that he was a cautious person with very little venom in him. I glared down from the saddle, putting God's own fear into him.
"My lord, are you a royal?" Ciara said, breaking the deadline.
The Comte looked at her like she was a dog who had just answered a calculus question.
"I have some degree of royal blood, yes," he answered, "But I am several generations removed from the ancestor that sat on the throne."
"High-Chancellor Hunt will meet only with the Empress, and you are not her," Ciara continued, drawing out her speech in a way that made her accent more neutral, "Surely a man of education such as you can understand that." Dropping hints like atom bombs. He was to consider himself of a lower standing or consider himself dead.
The Comte flinched. He was being offered an out. Or so he thought.
"Yes, I can," he said, "It would be unseemly for someone of her... rank to deal with a surrender."
He moved to Ciara, and she accepted the sword with a small bow. She played with it a little, watched by the Comte and his guards, before motioning with her free hand for the scabbard, which was handed over as well. The guards marched forwards, and began stacking their arms in front of us. With nervous glances at me. Once again, I found myself frowning at the sheer weight of my reputation.
Regardless, Halamshiral was ours.
Unlike some of our other victories, this one was not celebrated as loudly.
You might think that strange given how much we had won with so little expense of blood. There was simply too much weighing on everyone's mind. You could smell it. The air felt more like water, requiring more effort to move through yet your own weight seemed lifted in part. It was the end of the world as we knew it, and everyone was acting accordingly. Only with the fall of Orlais' second city had everyone come to realise it.
I was the only person in a relatively good mood, aside from Leha, which was why I noticed so easily.
The two of us oversaw the occupation of the Winter Palace in its entirety with raised spirits. The residential wings, usually reserved for nobles, were turned into a hospital wing. There was more than enough left over to house our officers and those who had been with us since the very beginning, a privilege both groups extended to their entire circle of friends or even their entire units, most having no need or experience with such huge amounts of space. The rest of the army was housed in the little town surrounding the palace within its walls. The inn saw a good amount of business, that's for sure. Just not rowdy business.
Beyond that, I had a watch placed on the walls of the city and the palace itself, artillery guarding the latter's gates and the hole we had made ourselves, and that was it for the first day.
Leha and I found ourselves in the empty ballroom, where a few years later history would be made in rather spectacular form, in the middle of the dance floor. We hadn't really decided what we were going to do with this space. There was no point putting anyone in there, and it was up two flights of stairs, useless for storing anything. I was quite impressed with the space. Its marble floor shined to perfection, chandeliers gleaming in the evening sun pouring out of the windows facing west, elegant drapery framing each portal to the outside. The sort of room I would have expected from a palace that had stunned me for its opulence at first sight. And now that it was in our hands, it could be put to a useful purpose. If we could think of one.
"Prisoners," Leha mused aloud, waving her tablet with wax for writing on, "If we're going to keep them for more than a day, we need somewhere to put them."
Just a little disappointed at her lack of vision, I scoffed at the notion.
"You see a beautiful thing, and you want to ruin it with the shit of chevaliers and mages," I said flatly, "Do you see any privy around here? The prisoners will die of dysentery and it'll smell worse than a pigsty."
Leha recoiled with indignation. "By the Stone, it was just a suggestion," she replied, "What do you care if this place is ruined anyway? It's replaceable... though I wouldn't pay for it." The woman was surprisingly utilitarian, especially when it came to saving money better spent on drinking and whoring.
"It's history, Leha, and I've walked through too many ruined pieces of history to treat this place like just another set of walls with a roof," I said pointing at her, "Hang our flags off of this, and the entire world will take note. The Emperors built this, we took it. What we do with it will matter."
"I think they're more likely to take note if we hang our flag over the piled corpses of our enemies," Leha retorted, "But since we're well on the way to doing that, I guess I can't complain."
I nodded my agreement with that, the least I could admit. We still had not fought a major battle with the royalists, and I had spent some thought on the campaign against Jader to come. Supply lines for some key materials were something we were going to have to consider soon, with the war disrupting the roads westwards. Jader was key to that.
"So, do you have any ideas for this then?" Leha asked, "Since you're so happy to throw mine away."
I shook my head. "Nothing great springs to mind," I said, "If we win, we won't even be using it for a victory party. Not enough space." Optimistic of me, you probably are saying to yourself.
"I'll put it down for parties anyway," she said, moving a stylus over her wax tablet.
The sound of boots knocking against the floors echoed from beyond, announcing the arrival of Julie and Tam. Earth boots and all. They spoke as they came down the stairs from the entrance to the dance floor.
"See, this is perfect," Julie said, "Enough space."
My right eyebrow raised.
"Looks like it," Tam replied, "They need to go somewhere." They meaning the prisoners, I thought.
"Now hold on a minute, I've already had this conversation," I interrupted, "We're not putting the prisoners in here, it wouldn't be right."
Both Tam and Julie looked down at me, halting their movement at the middle section of the stairs.
"What are you talking about?" Julie said, "We're putting the Assembly in here, not the prisoners."
I threw my head back and nodded, holding my hands up in apology.
Tam hopped the last few stairs and came to me. "Is everything okay?" she asked, "You seem a little on edge." Her instincts spot on as usual.
"Just worried about what's going to happen," I replied, pinching the bridge of my nose, "We have to make every move exactly right." Or else.
"Speaking of making a move..." Julie said, joining us, "Have you talked to la Madame de Fer?"
"Markham is seeing to her right now, with Barris hovering around too," I said, scratching my chin involuntarily, "No doubt the healer will have words for me, guarding a patient so closely."
"She's a prisoner," Tam stated flatly.
"And Markham doesn't give a shit," I said, "At least I know I gave him the right job. No one can doubt our intentions if he's the one leading a new order of the Chantry."
Tam hummed in agreement, undoubtedly thinking of the time when we both watching Julie go to the very edge of death, saved only by Markham's perseverance and the blood magic of Tiberius. The man was utterly unyielding when it came to such things.
"It would be nice if he was a little more efficient about using our healing supplies," Leha bitched, drawing our glares before she clarified, "I mean, it's okay to be using them on our own people, but that mage is throwing just as much at the injured chevaliers."
"If that's true, I'm not comfortable with it," Tam added, "Chevaliers aren't any real use to us alive." The royalist ones, at any rate.
"We keep them alive, and the chattering fils de putes elsewhere start to think maybe we aren't savages and peasants," Julie replied bitterly, "It's the same reason why aren't burning this place to the ground."
"I thought you wanted the Assembly in here?" I asked.
"I do. Tam and Armen convinced me it was a much better use of such a place," she said, waving her hand to the chandelier above, "Tomorrow, after Halamshiral has chosen its representatives, we shall meet here and rename it. The Palais de la Liberté."
Our High Chancellor let those last words hang in the air. Her eyes moved over the opulence of the room around her. At last, they came to rest on me.
"Isn't that wonderful?" she said, with a small smile.
I thought it was, because she thought it was. Julie would remember the idea, later.
I spent the rest of the evening in war council with my colonels, laying out my plan for Jader. We needed to take the city within forty-eight hours of arriving to besiege it, so I came up with a daring plan. If I do say so myself.
Without getting into real detail, the plan was to blow holes in the walls of the Citadel from the outside, ignoring the town and most of its curtain wall, to avoid a quagmire in the streets. After that, an offer for Lady Seryl to surrender would be sent, but we knew she wouldn't accept it and we didn't really want her to either. Better that she answer for her crimes against her vassals with her life.
Once that was over with, we'd mount attacks from two sides; one into the breaches with the Grenadiers, both mage regiments and the pikes, another delivering the Rangers and the Vice-Regal Guard under my command into the town itself by sea, using the fishing boats that our own Jader-born patriots had used to escape in. The royal fleets had moved to Val Royeaux already. I'd use some plastic explosives or bring some mages along, blow another breach just as the main attack of our forces was under way and we'd take the Citadel from all sides. Job done.
Everyone seemed impressed with the idea, and there were no significant objections, so I turned in with Julie and Tam. We fell asleep in the Empress' own bed that night, a fact I took great pleasure in.
The next morning did not start well.
I awoke to the sensation of Julie thrashing in her sleep, deep in a nightmare. Tam and I pulled her to a sitting position, waking her slowly. Her eyes were soaked with tears, and she looked around the room, as if the place wasn't real and the dream was. I brushed her hair out of her face, and cupped it with one hand, trying to get her to calm.
"It's alright, you're safe," I said. That snapped her out of it.
"Maker damn it all..." she muttered, wiping sweat off her forehead, "I keep seeing it, over and over."
Tam drew Julie close, resting her head on top of Julie's own. "The nightmares will pass," she said. Julie hugged back, burying her face in Tam's shoulder.
I was beginning to think that maybe the nightmares wouldn't go away, that perhaps we should talk to someone about it early. Particularly as dreams and nightmares on Thedas aren't just the creation of the mind, as on Earth. They are interactions with the Fade. Julie had every right to be depressed, her sister and some of her friends had been brutally murdered in front of her. It was the demons attracted to that sort of thing I was afraid of. Julie was no mage, but her proximity to me meant I had no fucking clue what might happen. I had just watched my horse deflect what should have been a decapitating blow from a magical sword the day before, I wasn't taking any chances.
I glanced around the room, and saw that it was morning already. Almost as late as we planned to wake up at any rate. There was no need to wait. I got up off the bed.
"Come on," I said, "Get dressed. We're going to see Markham."
Julie peeked over Tam's shoulder.
"Why?" she asked feebly.
"I'm worried about you," I said, not bothering to sugarcoat it. Julie retreated into Tam's embrace again, who perked up and turned her head, stare boring into me. I tilted my head towards the door, trying to get her support for the idea. Our Qunari lover let out a mighty sigh, and held Julie away from her by the shoulders.
"Sam is right," she said, "There's no harm in seeing the healer."
Quite a concession, for someone as wary about mages as Tam was. I breathed my relief deeply.
Julie said nothing but got up to dress, trusting our opinion and outnumbered regardless.
Tam and I followed suit, and we walked to the residential wing through the empty corridors of the palace, our steps echoing. Without the servants, whom wouldn't be informed they still had jobs until a few hours later, the place was a crypt. When we got to the floors being used for the hospital wing, there was a lot more activity. Mages wandering from room to room, as well as the friends or family of the wounded.
We found Markham in one of the larger staterooms, with Armen and Vivienne. The Madame de Fer was in bed, dressed in remarkably fine clothes for a patient; something akin to silk pyjamas. None of them looked particularly happy. In fact, I think it's fair to say I turned up just in time. Armen was practically shooting lightning bolts out of his eyes at Lady Vivienne. Lady Vivienne held the young elf mage in complete contempt by closing her eyes, keeping her arms folded and turning her ahead away from him. Markham scowled at both of them.
We entered the room unnoticed, and got to within a few paces of them before I cleared my throat. All three turned our way, and their expressions changed to alarm.
Appropriate response if the leader of the country and its highest general suddenly appear before you. Or, you know, if Tam appeared before you.
"Good morning," I said, "Not getting into trouble, I hope."
Armen bit his lower lip, his face curling in anger. Vivienne crossed her arms again.
"It seems the esteemed First-Enchanters wish to kill each other," Markham intoned gravely, "I have informed them that if either of them try it, they'll face my knights and I too. It does not seem to have made much difference." This was the first I had heard that Armen was First-Enchanter, but given the political alliance between the Libertarians and the Lucrosians, I guessed Velarana had been squeezed out for the moment.
My eyes rolled of their own volition. "Seems like a real barrel of laughs," I said.
"It's good to see that you are taking your new duties seriously," Julie added, "The Hospitallers will do great things if they follow your example." She moved closer to Armen, and placed a hand on his shoulder lightly. He glanced at her, and seemed to relax a little.
"Your Excellency, I have always held to the principle that the true divine purpose of magic is to help the sick and injured; the vulnerable," Markham replied, with a small bow from the waist, "I am glad of the opportunity that Free Orlais has given me to spread such ideals."
Vivienne's head swivelled so quickly that I thought it might spin clean off her neck. The motion drew the attention of everyone else in the room too. The Madame de Fer lost little time in rolling away the blanket. She stood up awkwardly, still not fully healed, and squared off against Julie. They were about the same height, both taller than the average, not surprising given their common Rivaini heritage. Julie seemed taken aback by the woman's aggression. I felt a pang of guilt twist my stomach, having brought her down to see a healer, only for her to be confronted by political bullshit.
"So this is Julie Hunt? The commoner who has turned so many to treason?" Vivienne asked, striking a haughty pose, "I am Vivienne, First-Enchanter of the Circle of Magi at Montsimmard." Again, pointed omission of appropriate titles as a veiled insult. Vivienne was always good at that.
"The Madame de Fer," Julie replied with a frown, "I know who you are."
"Yet no one seems to know who you are, really," Vivienne continued, "The woman who conquered the man from another world, so that he could conquer the world for her, using terrible weapons she built with her own hands using the secret knowledge of the Qunari. It's a story almost out of a children's tale, except the blood is real and the ending shall not be happy."
"You are well informed," Tam said, "A little too well informed."
Vivienne flashed a smile at her. "What sort of player would I be if I wasn't, darling?" she said, "Not that you would know anything about it, being nothing more than a plaything."
Fairly high hypocrisy for a woman who advanced through seducing a Duke, I would say today. Or perhaps that was the point; that Tam hadn't used her access to our bed to improve her access to power, as Vivienne herself had with Bastien. I didn't have time to think about it because Tam stepped forward, teeth bared and fists clenched. I just barely managed to get in front of her before she went in swinging her curved dagger about. Julie herself regarded Vivienne with narrowed eyes.
"She's a traitor to all of our kind. Let me execute her," Armen growled, addressing Julie, "Please."
"Not happening," I said, before Julie or Tam could reveal their enthusiasm for such an idea.
Markham seemed to physically relax upon hearing my response, his shoulders lowering slightly. I smirked to myself. He had been worried that I would agree to stick the Madame de Fer in front of a firing squad. Armen understood what the final word sounded like though, and accepted my decision with a shrug. He gave his goodbyes, and left the room, not sulking but with a determined gleam in his eye. Perhaps he intended to prove Vivienne's opinion that the Libertarians would bring only destruction wrong. Not sure myself that he managed to achieve that.
"If I might ask, what brings you to this part of the palace?" Markham asked, clearly happy to change the subject, "If it is about the new Tranquil, they are settling in with our own very well as expected." They were being schooled in artillery use at that very moment, in fact. Not sure that's what I'd call settling in, but having a few hundred more of the guys was a huge boost to our capability.
"No, it's about..." Julie began, before glancing at Vivienne, "Perhaps we could speak more privately?"
Markham opened his mouth, probably to say 'Of course, Your Excellency' if I knew the man, but the Madame de Fer was far from done in her quest to put us off balance.
"Oh? Are you feeling unwell, my dear?" Vivienne said, "It is said that the crown weighs heavily on all who wear it, but perhaps I can help. I have some experience of such things myself. What exactly is the matter?"
Julie gave the mage a withering look. "Nothing you need worry about," she said.
"Come now, I only wish to help, you have treated me well thus far," Vivienne continued, "What is wrong?"
I could see Julie's face turning red, her body tensing up. Vivienne's casual tone was going to cause her to go off like the Guns of the Navarone. Ask someone why they're feeling down after watching people get butchered in front of them was insensitive to say the least. I'm still unsure whether or not the Madame de Fer was aware of the events of the Day of the Long Knives, but that was irrelevant. Her Excellency was seconds away from going nuclear, and she still had a full magazine in the handcannon on her hip.
I saw the danger, and I knew I had to react quickly to avoid. Pity that I did so a little too quickly for common sense to apply.
"She's pregnant," I said flatly. Utter bullshit, but yeah, I went there.
The tension drained out of the situation like air out of a rubber balloon, the weight of the air lightening ever so slightly. So, mission accomplished there. Problem is that it was replaced with incredulity and confusion. Vivienne looked like a fish gasping for air, her mouth opening to say something and closing again when she realised she didn't have a good retort. I suspect she would have eventually congratulated us, if we had given her the time.
Julie and Tam were worse, their eyes wide enough to be mistaken for dragon eggs. Only Markham remained composed, nodding to himself with his hand on his chin, as if my words explained much. I pushed the man out the door gently, with a muttered apology to its occupant. Tam and Julie followed us out, and shut the door behind us. I saw their surprise being replaced with a 'what the hell' on the horizon.
"Sorry," I said, "Had to think of something to shut her up."
Julie just shook her head in disbelief. Tam eyed a warning at me, not to do something like that again. Bringing both of them to the point of being speechless was quite an achievement, but I got the message, loud and clear.
"So, the High-Chancellor is not with child?" Markham asked, sorry that it wasn't the case.
"Nope," I replied, "Simply a deception."
"Then why did you come to me?" he continued.
"I have been having nightmares," Julie said, "Sam thinks I should..." She stopped mid-sentence, and looked around.
At first, I had no idea what she was doing, but then I heard what she did. Footsteps, swiftly tapping closer. Sure enough, from the direction of the royal apartments came Mike, with a squad in tow. Her face told me at once that something was wrong. It was hardened like steel, her brow creased and eyes sharp. My hand itched at the absence of my firelance. If Mike looked like that, it meant she thought battle was near.
Mike and the soldiers came to a stop, and saluted us. I saluted back by reflex.
"Chancellor, Viceroy," Mike said, saluting, "The vice-Chancellor, the assembly, and the war council are gathering. They shall expect your presence in the Ballroom in an hour. We have visitors."
So we found ourselves back in the grand hall. The room was darker than it had been the night before; the windows did not face towards the sun in the morning. The chandeliers were lit up instead, which was far less spectacular. The room was bustling with activity too, another change. McNulty's Grenadiers were watching the elven servants move things around; chairs and tables for the dance floor mostly. Our war council were sitting or waiting for a seat, all of them. The members of the Assemblée Nationale were present too.
They had placed three chairs on the middle section nearest the far windows, one of which was occupied by Ciara. The other two were clearly intended for Julie and I.
We descended to the dancefloor as things were beginning to calm down, approaching a finely dressed gentleman in a silver half-mask as we did so. I began to wonder who he was, when he stepped in front of us, bidding us to wait a moment with outstretched palms. Seeing no reason to disagree with the man, I stopped. He waited until the bustle had stopped, and the soldiers had taken up guard positions all around the dance floor and the raised sections. Only then did he speak.
"High-Chancellor, you and your mistress first," he said, Orlesian accent overflowing from his tongue.
Julie looked at him strangely, but did as she was told. She took Tam by the hand and walked to the edge of the last stairs. The masked man cleared his throat loudly.
"Julie Hunt, High-Chancellor of Free Orlais, Marquise de la Fayette!" he proclaimed loudly, "And her consort, Tam of Hearth, a warrior and scholar!"
There was polite applause. Julie glanced at the masked man, wondering why the hell he had done that. He waved her to continue to her seat, which she did with somewhat indecent haste. Tam walked a little more slowly, joining Armen and Leha at the table closest to the 'throne'. I stepped forward, knowing what the masked guy was playing at now.
"Samuel Hunt, The Peacekeeper, Viceroy of the Dales, Marquis de la Fayette!"
"Yeah yeah," I muttered to myself, taking the steps two or three at a time through the equally polite applause. I moved through the aisle between the seated assembly members and approached my seat beside Julie. I dropped into it with a sigh, before waving McNulty over.
"Who is that man?" I asked, pointing at the masked shouter.
"He's the palace herald," McNulty replied with amusement, "The imbecile insisted on remaining in his position 'at court' and asked what your titles were."
"Sounds like a man unwilling to give up his job," I replied, "I think I like him already."
"He's a noble, he doesn't need a job," McNulty said flippantly, "Heard you were seeing Markham this morning?"
"Yeah, don't remind me," I said, noticing activity at the doorway to the atrium, "Best sit down, we're starting."
I took in a deep breath and released it slowly. Good thing too, as the guests of honour began to stroll in. McNulty's men in the gallery cocked their firelances' flints as one upon seeing them, but did the courtesy of not aiming them in the faces of the newcomers.
The first to enter was two dozen or so battlemages, dressed in black and white padded mage armour, the dragon emblazoned on their shoulder armour in a bright green. Send in the Clowns, I thought, except these clowns could kill with a thought. They occupied the palace-end of the room, opposite our Grenadiers.
Finally, three figures appeared, two human and one elf in a half-mask akin to those worn by the servants, but far more decorative. The former were familiar, the latter was not.
They calmly went down the first flight of stairs to the middle section opposite, and stopped by the herald. The masked man bowed low to them, and turned to the assembly.
"Titus Tiberius Pansa, Overlord of Treverorum, Princeps of the Western Legions, Hammer of the Fog-Warriors, Military Attaché to the Court of Orlais. With him, his grandson Gaius Tiberius Flavia, heir to Treverorum, Military Tribune of the Western Legions." I noted that the Herald completely ignored the elf, which removed my previous good feeling towards him. Assuming it was out of prejudice rather than ignorance.
Tiberius paced down the stairs and down the aisle towards us, a warm smile on his mouth. A sullen Gaius and the elf followed.
"Sam, it's so good to see you!" he said, arms stretched out to either side of him as he came on, "Quite a lot has happened since we last spoke, has it not?" The man always did like getting familiar without due cause. A tactic of his.
"That's an understatement," Julie replied, "What brings Tevinter to Halamshiral in the midst of war?"
"The war itself," Tiberius said, "The armies of the Empress and the Grand-Duke are gathering against you."
"We're aware of that," I said.
"Are you aware of the twenty thousand gathering in Lydes as we speak?" Tiberius said, "With more arriving every day to join them?"
The whole room began shouting, some disbelieving the magister, others calling for action. Not just members of the assembly, but our soldiers too. I couldn't make out a single one of their words over the sound of the others, but I could tell already that we weren't going to be able to have a civilised conversation out in the open like this. The unparliamentary language was already being bandied about freely, and I doubt Tiberius was done with the bad news.
I turned to Julie and Ciara.
"We need to get them the hell out of here," I said, "I can get the details in private and come back, you get control of the situation here. If he's right, we'll need to march against Lydes instead of Jader." Which means we would have to leave troops behind to guard our asses from Lady Seryl's murderous shit.
"I'll come with you," Ciara said, "See the woman with them? If that's who I think it is, this is going to be an interesting day."
I groaned. We had too many interesting days like that.
"Go," Julie said, "Find out what the Tevinter wants."
"You know what he wants," I replied, "My DNA and maybe my weapons."
"What he wants from Free Orlais, not you," Julie corrected, "He shouldn't be standing here if the only thing he's interested in is that piece of business."
That was indeed something worth knowing, I thought as I got up out of my seat and led Ciara towards our guests. Tiberius gave a theatrical bow in greeting, and I could tell already it was going to be a tedious conversation.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was meant to be part of the last chapter, but it got away from me in terms of length. And it has again, the next chapter was supposed to be part of the last chapter too. So, the volume is still three chapters from completion. If it goes as planned.
5 Coloured Walker: Cheers for the review as always, and for the spotting of typos!
Katkiller-V: That's not a weird thought at all. Orlais has the largest contingent of Grey Wardens on Thedas as far as I'm aware. Thing is that they're stationed in Jader and Montsimmard if I remember correctly, and Sam hasn't been to either of those places. They feature pretty heavily in the next volume.
I have the rules for his null-magic capability set, but the story is partially about his discovery of their full extent. Beyond even what our cheery Tevinter magister knows.
Sovereign X22: Merci.
Racdragon339: I actually really liked Vivienne's character in Inquisition. I just thought her politics were shit, is all.
Suna Chunin: You did ask if Briala was making an appearance...
Ioialoha: You're not the first person to have binge-read this story, and I have to say it tickles me every time someone tells me they couldn't put it down. Thanks for slogging through it.
Orco-n7: You've been following my stories for a while, and I still can't speak Spanish mate. Glad you're liking them, though.