Chapter Forty-One: Honnleath
After completing the last chapter, I asked Julie if she would paint a depiction of our charge against the Avvars. She smiled back at me, and said that it was impossible. She hadn't been there, it wouldn't be accurate. I asked if that really mattered. Apparently, it does.
Ha!
The day was not done with us yet. The exact relationship we were to have with the Fereldan people during our short time in their country would begin to form even in the first few hours. To be honest, I think the only way we could have been more provocative was if we had actually burned the town to the ground and sowed its fields with salt.
More interesting perhaps is the other piece of news we received. A great clue in the mystery of my presence on Thedas would reveal itself. The exact place it had in that mystery would only be revealed more than a year later, within the walls of the fortress of Adamant.
Alas, my part had been done. We had defeated the Avvars, and made such an impression on the Fereldan garrison of Honnleath as you shall see.
Most curiously, it seemed that the force surrounding the village had only been part of the Avvar force. As soon as the survivors surrendered, a thousand or more Avvar revealed themselves, led by yet another giant of a man.
I almost ordered another charge as I saw them come on, afraid that we had been duped, but lucky for everyone involved, I took a quick look through my binoculars. The people coming out of the forest were not just warriors, but families. As you can imagine, Blondie urged me to order an assault any way, impetuous as always and ever suspicious of the intent of the mountain tribes. But the warriors were not in any sort of appreciable line of battle, instead walking alongside the non-combatants. Needless to say, whatever remained of my oaths wouldn't permit me to attack.
Something was off about the whole thing as well, something I couldn't put my finger on. I didn't have time to waste investigating it right at that moment however, so I ordered Velarana and the Aequitarians to hold the prisoners and the newcomers to the east of the village. They had brought their own camp equipment, and quickly began creating their tribal settlement, while the healers went about the business of looking to the large numbers of wounded.
The reason for my lack of time to understand this whole problem came marching down the mountain forthwith.
The Rangers marched in perfect column order, the way cleared by the Isolationists, downing the foliage in the way with magical blasts. At the head was Julie, Tam, and Soprano herself, followed up by Ciara, Armen and Leha. All of them on horseback. Once in the clear, my companions pushed their horses into a canter to join Louise and I, sparing plenty of looks in the direction of the field of dead in the process.
"I see you've been having fun," Armen smirked, getting the first word in.
"Yeah, a real party," I replied flatly, "They fell easily enough, but they had mages."
"Your orders, my lord?" Soprano asked, cutting in to avoid any more idle chit-chat preventing her from doing her job.
"Take the Rangers to the northwest," I said, craning in the saddle and pointing the way I meant, "Relieve Isewen and the Lancers, and push up the road a couple of miles. We'll be camping on it for the night."
"Understood," Soprano said quickly, before bolting off back to her troops. Soon, the whole column was galloping past the stunned Avvars, seemingly amazed at the number of horses. Orlais had enough stud farms to outfit the entire continent, truth be told. Not just for riding. They ate horse meat too.
It tastes like lean beef, in case you haven't had the pleasure.
"Are those the ones that survived?" Ciara asked, nodding towards the Avvar encampment.
"Not entirely," I said, wheeling Bellona around to join her, "We routed the ones that were down here, then almost twice as many just... showed up afterwards. Not even looking for a fight, came down with their tents and totems, no order at all."
"Something is truly wrong," Louise complained, "They have some plot, some strategem. The Avvars I know would not simply give up. They would flee to fight another day, or attempt to hold the road." The narrow passage, barely qualifying as a road to begin with, was flanked on either side by ridgelines that could easily be occupied by archers. Or even just people throwing large rocks. Against foes lacking cannon, it would have been very effective.
"Perhaps the Avvars on this side of the Frostbacks are different," Leha sniffed, "Without Orlesian chevaliers to deal with, they've gone a bit complacent."
Louise hummed her possible agreement with that, if only because it placed a higher value on Orlesian arms than Fereldan ones.
"We'll find out later," Julie said, "For the moment, the army is moving out of the caves." She was right. Even now, the first battalions of our pike and crossbow troops were moving in good order out of the trees. I quickly changed channels on my radio, to find Mike doing an excellent job of coordinating where they were to go. In short, they were to surround Honnleath and the Avvars.
"That leaves the town to deal with," I said, inspecting the defences once more.
The palisades, balconies and towers remained fully manned. Despite that, and our proximity to them, no arrows came flying to kill us. Yet no calls of parley had come either. It was somewhat confused, as situations go. The inhabitants of Honnleath seemingly had no desire to fight us, having watched us save their town and display great martial prowess, yet they did not want to talk to us. I could only speculate to the reasons why the latter was the case, but I strongly felt that our reputation preceded us. They knew all about Free Orlais. Julie's own efforts had seen to that.
With that in mind, I decided on a course of action.
"I'm going to talk to … them," I said, nodding at the town, "Whoever's in charge over there."
Another idea struck me, and I changed channels once more.
"McNulty, this is Hunt," I said into my mouthpiece, "Can you get Knight-Commander Barris and Grand-Cleric Brandon up here?"
"They've already gone forward, my lord," McNulty replied, "The mother insisted, once she heard there was fighting. The Templars and the clerics should be down in a few minutes."
"Copy," I replied, before turning to Blondie, "Prepare an honour guard, Colonel."
Louise inclined her head in acknowledgement, and rode off to her chevaliers to arrange the least bloodied for the task. I took off the skull mask I still had on, noting that no one had commented on it, and tucked it inside my armour. I looked at myself a little closer, and found that I wasn't particularly blood-splattered. Neither was Bellona, her fine barding mostly clean. Didn't want to upset the locals.
I thought myself ready. Someone else thought different.
Tam came up to me atop Fritz, and took my arm.
"You will not go," she declared firmly, "It is not your job."
In retrospect, I probably should have seen this coming. It would hardly be fair to deny Julie the right to fight in battle, only to allow me to conduct diplomacy. For better or worse, Julie was our political leader, not me. It had been her word that had sent us under mountains to Ferelden. That said, it was a good thing that Soprano and McNulty weren't present. I'm sure they would have had pretty sharp objections to putting more power in Julie's hands alone.
"Let me guess," I said, "It's Julie's turn."
Tam smiled warmly, tilting her head like it was obvious. "Indeed," she said, "We must all stride along our own paths."
"How very Qunari of you to say so," Armen cut in, sarcasm at maximum.
"Not everything about the Qun is oppressive," Tam replied happily, "There is something to be said for its order."
"As long as order protects freedom," Julie shrugged, "Why not take the good things?"
"Would certainly help profits," Leha chipped in, "Not having to give backhanders must be a refreshing experience."
Tam shrugged. "Such things are punished harshly, it is true."
She gave me a kiss on the cheek, before nudging Fritz away again. She had made her point. Having seen just how stubborn Tam was when she insisted that Julie stay behind, I wasn't about to turn around and test her insistence the second time. My stomach was rumbling, further weakening my resolve.
"Ciara, can you do me a favour?" I asked.
"If I can," our Dalish friend replied, "What is it?"
"Don't suppose you could hunt us something for dinner?" I said, "Something fresh."
"There's druffulo in the pen over there," Ciara replied, "Why not slaughter those?"
Honnleath was a big druffulo town, something that Alistair and Anora had seen to after the Blight. Druffulos themselves are cow-sized hogs, as far as I can tell. Delicious meat, too.
"Not a good idea," Julie said, "They belong to the villagers. Not very good to kill animals when you're trying to stay in the good graces of the people who own them."
"They're Fereldans," said Leha with a wave of the hand, "They'll hate you anyway."
Julie sighed, signalling her acceptance that was probably true.
"There has to be something you can get," I said to Ciara, "Nug, maybe?"
"There's always nugs to be found," she nodded back with a grin, "Shouldn't be too hard."
"Great!" I sighed, "We've been eating bread and salted pork for days now, and as much as I like it, I need something different." Not an atypical complaint from any soldier, incidentally. Army food tends to be repetitive at the best of times.
Ciara rode off, unslinging her recurve bow and moving past the Avvars, drawing stares. Why such a sight would be interesting to the tribesmen, I did not know, but I found it strange. Everything about them seemed strange. It would get worse soon enough.
The clerics and their Templar escorts made their appearance at last, plodding out of the forest along the path cut by the mages. They largely made their way towards the wounded, both ours and the Avvars, making to at least look like they were guarding the Isolationist mages doing the preliminary healing. The sisters made good nurses, to their credit.
Through the throng, Brandon and Barris emerged. Both were in good spirits, probably because they were now outside of the damned Deep Roads. As always, they were in robes and plate armour respectively. Neither are particularly famous for a leisurely attitude to protocol. Perfect for what we needed at the time.
"Marquis, you called for us," Barris said, clenching his fist to his chest in salute. I saluted back in the manner of Earth, and inclined my head in greeting to the Grand-Cleric.
"The Marquise is going to meet with the leaders of Honnleath," I said, "I'd appreciate if you escorted her. A high Chantry official and a native son of Ferelden should be able to calm their nerves about our intentions here."
"And help us get some concessions," Julie added quickly, "We are in dire need of certain resources."
Leha nodded sagely, no doubt pleased that her complaints had found traction. She hated being quartermaster. The happier she was, the happier I was.
"A wonderful idea, Marquis," Brandon beamed, "I am glad you thought of us to aid in such a task!"
"Though I am not sure how much good it will do," Barris frowned, "Meaning no offence, but Fereldans are not likely to cooperate. My own father and brothers will no doubt call their men-at-arms to fight against you, once they get word of our arrival."
"I hope that is not a problem for you," Tam said, with just a pinch of menace.
"I am sworn to the service of the Circle of Hearth," Barris replied, "My loyalty is to the Chantry."
"Why does that matter?" I asked, "The Circle was dissolved by our agreement with de Chalons."
Brandon tutted, wagging her finger and shaking her head.
"Not even Gaspard de Chalons commands the Chantry," she said, pleased with the fact, "The Divine established the Circle of Hearth by holy decree. Neither you nor the Grand-Duke has the power to disestablish it. As such, the Templars and the mages of this army are still the purview of the Circle of Magi at Hearth."
"Even if they are not actually at Hearth?" I asked, blinking, "Are you sure you're not a lawyer?"
Brandon laughed heartily. "Nobles often think they can override Chantry decisions," she chuckled, "It is a great pleasure to see their hubris crushed." She closed her fist to illustrate the point, which frighteningly appropriate a gesture from the firebrand-turned-leader.
"The Chantry may have already dissolved our Circle," Armen frowned, "Or even annulled it."
"Doubtful," Brandon replied, "That would mean admitting that the experiment had been a complete failure. There would be unrest across Thedas if they did so. Templars would call it proof that mages cannot be trusted, mages would despair and turn to desperate measures. No, Divine Justinia is more intelligent than that."
"We shall find out," Julie said, "We may not have had news from Val Royeaux for months, but I am sure the Revered Mother here has some idea of what has been going on."
The honour guard of chevaliers soon approached, Louise at their head. I indicated to Julie, and she got the picture immediately. Not sure she liked it, but she knew better by then than to openly question it.
"Even on this quiet corner of Thedas, the Chantry's light falls," Brandon nodded, "Shall we go speak to them?"
Julie held her hand out for Brandon and the Knight-Commander to lead the way, and they did so, moving towards the line of the main thoroughfare of the town. Towards the palisade and barricades. The occupants seemed to flinch, fussing about the people now approaching. It wasn't as if they could loose arrows at a Chantry mother and a Templar, but the fact that the group was quite obviously Orlesian was creating some debate about it. Not hard to tell that from the gesticulating of their leaders, even from a distance.
I watched closely as our delegation were received and taken inside the town, to the Chantry chapel itself. I took that as a good sign, and relaxed.
It was a number of hours before our people would again emerge from the town, and that was to be expected. Julie, Tam, Leha, Brandon, De Villars and Barris would no doubt be fielding questions from anyone of even mild significance and their dog. With Julie in charge, no doubt they would all be allowed to vent their opinions and frustrations, before she presented a reasonable compromise and threatened utter devastation if it was not accepted.
Our army and the refugees continued to pour out of the Deep Roads and under Fereldan skies. As ordered, they filed around the town towards the road north-west, where the same arrangement as underground would be maintained. At least until we got onto the Imperial Highway. The Legion of the Dead would be the last to leave, Korbin insisting on the dubious honour himself. He owed it to us, as we had killed so many of the darkspawn. Absurd thing to my mind, but I wasn't about to disrupt things to disagree.
In the mean time, Armen and I watched, having little else to do until matters resolved themselves. We passed the time with idle nonsense.
"How long do you think the Fereldans will take to oppose us?" Armen asked, "They don't seem very organised." He tilted his head at the defences nearby, and it was hard to describe them as anything other than makeshift.
"Arl Teagan is marching at us with an army already," I replied, "Well, at the Avvars, but he'll run into us."
"And we'll crush him," said Armen, rolling his eyes, "I mean Alistair and Anora, or another united army."
"Didn't you once say we should swear allegiance to them?" I asked coyly, "That they were good monarchs?"
"That was before all this happened," Armen replied, "Don't change the subject. When do you expect the decisive battle?"
I scratched my head under my helmet, thinking about it. It was about four days to Redcliffe. I thought we'd meet Teagan's forces in about two. From there, it was two days back to Redcliffe, and another five by fast horses to Denerim, assuming the maps were any good. That was when the royal court would learn of our presence. Assuming they had heard of our exile, which was likely, they'd muster immediately. Doing so anywhere but Denerim itself wouldn't have been possible. All roads led there. I gave them two more weeks to get the largest army possible.
"I think we'll get to Vigil's Keep before they show up," I said confidently.
"Oh?" Armen smiled, "Feeling a little cocky, are we?"
"It's simple mathematics," I replied, "No way they can raise an army big enough and fast enough to challenge us before we reach the Grey Wardens."
"I'll take that bet," Armen said, raising his finger, "If you're man enough."
I cursed under my breath. He knew something that I didn't, clearly.
"I'm going to regret this," I said, "But sure, you're on."
"Probably will," Armen accepted, "Bottle of vodka sound good for a wager?"
"Good as any," I said, half distracted. There was a commotion building at the Avvar camp that drew my eye.
A full squad of Rangers, bayonets fixed to their firelances, were attempting to subdue a giant man. Not an easy prospect, as he carried a warhammer over his shoulder that looked like it could crack the skull of an elephant. He was considerably better armoured than many of his counterparts too, having scale-plate across his upper torso and on his arms. The Rangers pointed their blades at him, not wanting to shoot, and he just edged forwards, occasionally slapping the silverite aside, not caring for the little cuts he was getting in the process.
"I wonder what that is about?" Armen said, "He's coming this way. Maybe you better see what he wants."
I glanced at the Avvars behind the ruckus, and agreed with the mage's assessment immediately. All eyes were pointed this way. I felt a shiver of apprehension down my spine, and my jaw set on edge. They were watching something with total attention, and it involved me.
"Fuck," I said loudly, "You're right."
I gave Bellona a tap, and rode towards the giant over the grass, arriving just as he grabbed the muzzle of the nearest firelance with his spare hand. Reinforcements were also arriving, directed by Soprano from afar to aid their beleaguered comrades with the troublemaker, and they began taking up positions to cover him from multiple angles. There were at least twenty spare muzzles ready to send lead minié balls into him by the time I got there.
"Good, I want to talk to you," he said in Common, pointing his warhammer at me briefly. His voice was deep, and his accent was somewhat familiar. English, but what you'd hear from a peasant or an urban worker, not a merchant or noble. I had been expecting Scottish, to be honest. His informal tone was refreshing, at least. First thing was first though.
"Stand down," I ordered in Orlesian, "If he wants to speak to me, let him speak." The soldiers hesitated, moving their weapons the least possible amount to comply, ready to re-engage instantly.
"But, the warhammer..." began one soldier, "What if he..?"
"Then Monsieur Cartier here will turn him into fried meat," I replied in Common, for the Avvar's benefit, "That big chunk of metal won't be much good against lightning bolts."
Armen let a spark fly from his staff for good measure, startling some of our soldiers into complying with my order. Getting out of the way being a good idea.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," the Avvar giant drawled with amusement, "But I'm not here to hurt you."
"What are you here for?" I asked, "I have people who have fought your kinsmen before, they keep telling me to kill you all. Should I be listening to them?"
"That was foretold," the giant replied, "But you will ignore them, and take a different path. The Lady of the Skies has seen to it."
I raised an eyebrow, unfamiliar with what was clearly a different religious belief. I had thought the Avvars to be more or less Andrastrian, albeit heretical. Maferath was an Avvar, after all. I looked to Armen for clarification.
"One of their most important deities," the mage said, "Goddess of the skies and the dead."
"The mage speaks truthfully," the giant replied, "I am a Sky Watcher, a servant of the Lady. I go where I am needed."
Why a servant of the goddess of the dead was required around Honnleath was obvious. There were a good five hundred corpses laying around, and the process of gathering them had not even begun yet.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Amund," the man replied, "And you are Samuel Hunt, the man delivered to us by the Lady."
I nearly choked with surprise. To think that my name would have spread as far as the wilds of Ferelden! "How do you know my name?" I asked, "Who did you hear it from?"
"You fell from the Sky, did you not?" Amund replied, "It was no mortal who told us it. We don't speak to the lowlanders much. They tend to run away when they see us, for a start."
"I suppose it is true that I fell from the sky," I replied, "Though I wasn't alone in that."
"Told us that too," Amund continued, "But you killed the serpent. Your destiny is much greater."
I held my hands over the back of my neck, wondering what the hell he was talking about.
"Who told you this?" I said.
"The Lady did, of course!" said Amund, raising his eyes upwards, "There were many signs, both in the birds and from the augurs!"
Bird signs and augurs? This was sounding more insane by the second. And I had personally met a dead woman, I had high standards for insanity. I once again glanced in hope to Armen for an explanation.
"Augurs are mages who commune with spirits," he explained, "Their techniques are forbidden to the Chantry, but the Avvars move around too much for the Templars to be interested. Like the Dalish, they're too hard to pin down."
"Naturally, you know all about those techniques," I said flatly.
"Only that they exist," Armen smirked, "Such things have long be of interest to me."
"Don't remind me," I said, "So spirits are telling you who I am?"
Was it the former Baronetess of Ancienmaison herself? I doubted she'd be mistaken for a god, even by a bunch of barbarians.
"No, it was the Lady," Amund insisted, "For months, all our oracles and auguries have said only one thing. A man who was sent from the Sky will come, and the destiny of our tribes are tied up with his will."
This was getting even more bizarre by the second. Suddenly, I was glad that a Chantry sister wasn't in earshot. Such a thing could be attributed to the Maker very easily, but this didn't sound … macro enough for truly divine intervention.
"Then about two weeks ago, the signs changed," Amund continued, "We were commanded to attack this place, that we would face a defeat, but that it would signal the arrival of the man from the Sky."
"Any other prophesies?" Armen replied cheerily, "Perhaps a handsome elven mage will receive a great boon?"
"Don't blaspheme, or I'll squash you," Amund said slowly, "But yes, there was another message. Once, the Avvar people stood on mountains on both sides of the sea, but no more. The man from the Sky, Samuel Hunt, shall take us across the sea and we shall be one with his people."
I pinched the bridge of my nose, as a suspect for this... manipulation finally occurred to me: Tiberius.
I thought the magister had somehow used his powers to summon more forces for me to use. He had the motivation, and to my mind, he was among the few people with the capability. He did not have that power, in reality. The person who had done all this was in fact far more powerful, but again, that's for the chapter on Adamant. Either way, they had delivered to me yet more warriors.
"You want to join us?" I asked, "You do understand that you'd have to abandon many of your... traditions?"
"That means you wouldn't be able to raid and pillage," Armen added sharply.
"The Lady warned us of that too," Amund said, "Which is why there are only two thousand of us and not twenty thousand. Not everyone believed the omens. Not even my own chief did. Let them stay, I say. They're worthless."
Which meant only the true believers were on board. That was a relief of sorts, and although it wasn't the only issue, it did... endear me towards accepting their help.
"I don't have the authority to accept you," I said, "Not alone."
"We'll follow you," Amund said, "The Lady wishes to see the Avvars restored to the other side of the sea. Not you, nor I, nor your fat lowlander lords can stand in the way of that."
I cringed, just imagining how Julie would take that news. Fereldan-Orlesian relations were bad enough for our prospects without adding the reputation of the Avvars to them. I could see Leha pitching fits too. It was another two thousand mouths to feed.
"I'll pass on the message," I said, "Go tell your people that we'll consider your... request fairly."
"Good," said Amund, turning around. He began wandering off, to the great relief of the soldiers that had been standing in his way before. They all looked up at me with new reverence, or confusion. I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear my head, before I noticed them. I didn't need more reverence and confusion was hardly any better.
"He's crazy," I said, "Ignore him."
Apparently, that didn't help.
I waited until we were around the campfire, well out of earshot of anyone else, to tell the others what Amund the Sky-Watcher had to say. There was to be a war council meeting after dinner, and they needed to know the full details of the events now undoubtedly spreading around the camp.
"They what!" Julie said, after I had related the whole tale, "Do you have any idea what this means?"
I nodded, too busy eating to reply verbally. My companions and I were sat around the campfire by sunset. Ciara had returned and had made some truly great nug stew, which we were all eating with great glee. Similar scenes had played out all through the army. I doubt there were any nugs left in the region for quite some time afterwards. Not sure that hunting them with firelances is entirely fair.
"The Avvars are another enemy of these people!" Julie continued, "All we need to do now is get the Chasind on board! Every noble in Ferelden is going to hurry to oppose us."
"Since when do you care what nobles think?" Armen asked.
"Since we'll have to fight every able-bodied bastard from here to the sea," Leha growled, "Their leaders will whip them up into a frenzy of fear."
"The shadow of the chevaliers' conduct here is long," Tam agreed, before gulping down some stew herself. Indeed it was.
"Shems," Ciara complained, "I don't understand why you have so many different kingdoms."
"The Dalish have different tribes," Leha yawned, "How are you elves superior, exactly?"
"Survival," Ciara replied, pointing at the dwarf with a piece of bread, "We have many tribes so that if humans ever decide to try and wipe us out, they can never catch all our people at once. So we can melt into the landscape and hide."
"I hate to break it to you, Ciara," I said softly, "But you are not Dalish any more. We don't do hiding."
A rumble of agreement came from Tam, her mouth too full to speak to the matter. Ciara herself didn't say anything, but stopped eating and stared into the fire for a few minutes. I felt twinge of guilt in my throat. Pointing out that she was further from home than ever before was perhaps a little harsh, even if it wasn't said maliciously.
"We are moving off the real subject," Julie interrupted, "We have enough trouble without the Avvars coming along!"
I paused, remembering that I hadn't asked a key question about what Julie and Tam had been doing earlier. "The town leaders didn't have anything good to say," I thought aloud, "Did they?"
"That depends," Tam replied, "Does a lot of whining about Fereldan freedom from Orlesian oppression count as good or bad?"
I groaned, feeling quite correctly that such a reaction to our attempts to negotiate was the spectre of things to come.
"They weren't grateful that we saved them?" Armen asked, "I think De Villars and Velarana earned at least a thank you from them!"
"De Villars is a chevalier," Julie said wearily, "And Velarana is an elf mage. How do you think they took it?" And we couldn't hide either fact. Nor would I want to. Both had more than earned their place, and to hell with any Fereldan prick who thought otherwise.
"Didn't we send copies of Le Sens Commun to Ferelden?" said Armen, "I thought our ideas would have had more traction here than this!"
"I'm sure there are many copies in Denerim and Amaranthine," Julie replied, "But not many can read in Honnleath, as far as I can tell."
"No organised education system," Tam confirmed, drawing on her intelligence of non-Qun societies, "Fundamental schooling outside of religious service is only available through private tutors. The Arishok views this as an obstacle to conquering Ferelden."
"You'd think a country full of ignorant savages would be easier to conquer," Armen mused.
I snorted. "Shows what you know," I said, "Ignorant savages are plenty capable of fighting back." Which was a problem we ourselves would be getting to experience in the coming weeks.
"The Qun does not consider a place conquered so easily," Tam added, "Most people must embrace the Qunari way. There was considerable trouble in Rivain getting the people to sit still long enough to explain the ideas. Much force had to be used. Many minds were deformed with qamek."
"Force requiring soldiers that might be needed elsewhere," I said, completing the Arishok's thought.
"Which was why I was hoping we could agree to something with the elders," Julie said, "If we could just show that we aren't here to enslave the country, maybe we won't have to fight anyone... They refused to sell us a single gruffulo or a single kilogram of lead."
Lead being important. We had plentiful blackpowder. What was really at a premium was lead for bullets. The battle in the Deep Roads had depleted one third of our stock of them, but had barely made a dent in our powder supply. It wasn't like it was rare to find, no one knew it was a brain poison back then so it was used quite often.
"They refused to do anything for us?" I said, "After we came charging down to help them?" I was tempted to order the barricades stormed, out of spite as much as necessity.
"I think they were afraid," Tam said, "Think about it... if they had helped us, what would the rest of Ferelden think? They would undoubtedly be branded traitors."
"Brandon and De Villars had more to do with it," Julie said, shaking her head, "I don't think a Grand-Cleric has ever set foot in that town. De Villars is a name well-remembered in this part of the country. Her grandfather and grand-uncle were involved with fighting the rebels. Helping any old Orlesians, fine, they could get away with it. Helping chevaliers and high Orlesian chantry mothers? They're traitors."
"In that case, what harm can we do?" I said, "The Avvars seem to think I'm their damned messiah, I say we let them come along. I need to find out who told them to follow me, the only way I can is if they come. They'll try to regardless of what we decide."
Namely, I needed to discover if it was Tiberius' handiwork. I had spoken about that little idea during my explanation.
"Tiberius..." Armen said, "I don't think your theory is very good, Sam. Not even magisters have the power to pretend to be spirits. Communication through the Fade is difficult, you need to use physical devices to make it work reliably." Such as the message crystals in use by both the Circle of Magi and the Tevinter Magisterium.
"Then what the hell is going on?" I said, "Why would spirits consorting with the Avvars know my name? Or better yet, tell them to join me? What's their motivation?"
"I do not know," Armen admitted, "But the other possibilities disturb me."
"What possibilities?" I asked quickly.
The mage stopped himself, his customary smile disappearing.
"Demons," he said, "Some are so powerful, it is perhaps more appropriate to call them malevolent gods. Those that are do not concern themselves with individuals. They will never possess mages, for instance. Such an existence would be too mundane. No, they prefer to manipulate from a distance for their own benefit."
"You're saying a demon is doing this?" Julie asked, "To what end?"
"Depends on what sort of demon it is," Armen replied, not elaborating.
We sat in silence for some time after that, not liking the idea that we were being used by the general forces of evil that might be out there. Or we just wanted to finish eating before our food got cold. Either way, it was a good twenty minutes of munching and slurping, as the sun made its exit and the sky turned a rich inky blue.
The fire began to die, and I reached to the pile of wood to throw another piece into the small pit, when I noticed two pairs of boots standing by it. I looked up at the occupants.
It was the Viddasala and a private of the Free Army, standing together. How they had managed to creep up on me, I do not know, but my first reaction was one of fear. I swung my firelance off my hip and pointed at them, ready to fire. Julie and Leha copied the action with their own weapons. I thought yet another Qunari plot had been initiated, at least at first.
But we all noted some strange things.
The private was bent over, panting heavily, and he had a large bruise on the side of his head. He seemed to be missing his weapon. The Viddasala herself remained bound by the hands, and was the picture of calm. Not what I would associate with an assassination attempt. Didn't lower my weapon though.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked through my teeth, "Report!"
The private straightened up at the anger in my voice, coming to full attention and saluting. Recognition clicked in my head. He was the same elf that had guarded the prisoners at the ball for Julie and Ciara's inauguration as High and Vice Chancellor. "She's gone, my lord!" he said, "This one said to come tell you at once."
"What?" I said, "Who's gone? Tell me the whole story, from the beginning."
"Tallis," he said, "She got out of her restraints, knocked me out and escaped into the woods!"
"When?" I said.
"About half an hour ago," Viddasala replied, "By now, she is out of your reach."
I finally lowered my weapon, in sheer disbelief. At one time, we had planned to release her, but the potential for interference in our own ambitions was too great to have gone ahead with it. And now she was out there.
"Why do you remain?" Tam asked, looking up from her seat at her fellow Qunari, "You might still have a place, back home."
"You know that is not true," Viddasala said, "My place is here."
"You just sat by and watched Tallis escape?" said Julie, pointing a finger, "Doesn't sound like this is your place."
"I tried to warn your soldiers," Viddasala snapped, "But they wouldn't listen to me."
"We'll verify that," I said, "But that still leaves the question of how she got out of her restraints." The implication being that she had been helped by her compatriot to escape.
"Simple," said the Qunari, "Tallis had sex with this man, and then knocked him out as he reached climax."
I turned to the private, eyebrows raised. At which point, I noticed the bruise on his neck. Tallis liked to bite, apparently. She liked him in general, as I recalled. For his part, the young man looked just as guilty as he was, eyes wide and fearful of what I might do. I wavered between anger at his incompetence and amusement that he had been honeypotted, But I settled on anger in the end, as the whole thing also had the potential to backfire on me.
"Private, report to General Mike immediately," I half-shouted, "Tell her the entire story, leaving out nothing. She will deal with your... discipline issue. Is that understood?"
"Yes, my lord," the private squeaked. He ran off at a full sprint, probably just glad I hadn't shot him on the spot. I didn't exactly have a reputation for mercy for those that crossed me, and we hadn't had any discipline problems on a scale that required my attention before.
"As for you," I said, turning to Viddasala, "How quickly can Tallis get back to the Qun and muster a force to send against us?"
"A month and a half," she replied, "From Kont-Aar to Ferelden's coast."
"Does that sound right?" Julie asked Tam, "Can they really get to us that soon?"
"I am not sure," Tam said, "I was Tamassran, not part of the antaam. There is a fleet and an army at Kont-Aar like she says."
"That's not good," Ciara said, "Does that mean they could attack us before we get across the sea?"
The Viddasala nodded once. It would certainly be a close run thing, if the Qunari military could muster as fast as she said. I had zero problem believing they could, given the regimented nature of their society.
"Well then," I said, hanging my head, "That settles it."
"Settles what?" Leha asked.
"The Avvars come with us," I replied, "We're going to need bodies. The Qunari will show up. We had breathing space before, but now, we officially don't have time to play the nice guys. We have to get to Vigil's Keep, get the Grey Warden cure to the Taint, and take Amaranthine. As soon as possible."
"The Fereldans get in our way, we roll over them."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Happy New Year to all my readers!
The Outlanders story will be out next, and I've decided on a common theme for all the short stories about the other travellers from Earth. Their stories will not only be about how they survived and settled on Thedas, but how they interacted with Tiberius' ancestors, who were searching for them. I'll close the vote on which you'd prefer to read about first on my profile tomorrow.
The next chapter of this story will be titled 'The Sack of Redcliffe'. Look forward to it.
Thepkrmgc: Guess, now that you have this chapter to educate you.
Captain Redshirt: For argument's sake, let's say that Sam isn't a universal donor. Besides that, it's not like there's an abundance of clean medical equipment around to do a transfusion safely. Ingesting the blood would do nothing.
Really looking forward to writing how Alistair and the nobles react. The Grey Wardens even more so. A Hawke will be making an appearance.
Ssg1: Internet cookie for recognising the reference.
Stuilly: Glad to hear that!
OBSERVER01: There is indeed a Leha subplot coming along.
5 Coloured Walker: The fight with the Avvars was supposed to be a complete curbstomp, hence the style of Sam's remembrance of it. Still, might edit it when I get around to the next volume-wide edit.
Thanks as always for the review.
Orco-n7: Gracias, lad.
Jordanlink: What?
Guest: You're probably the first person I've seen say that they found this story via TV Tropes, and I'm suddenly more grateful to Drgyen for making that page as a result!
Also, another internet cookie for you. Sabaton is love, Sabaton is life.
ThedemonlordPingu: First of all, great nickname.
Second of all, stick with it. Heroes have to lose before they win. It's a rule of literature. If you can call this literature.
Wman243: I certainly hope so! Welcome to the party.