Chapter Forty-Seven: Amaranthine
Sheltered from the winter storms of the Waking Sea by the large islands off its coast, the City of Amaranthine started off as a primitive fishing village as so many coastal cities do. Yet even then, its advantage was known.
It was from Amaranthine that the armies of Andraste began their assault on Tevinter, the Imperium having been divided and weakened by the First Blight. The village was the most productive for fishing in the entire kingdom, particularly in winter, due to the storms driving fish into the calmer waters off-shore.
However, even long into the Calenhad period as the Fereldans call it, Amaranthine was nothing more than a village. Totally eclipsed by Denerim, Gwaren and Highever in all respects. All that changed with the Orlesian invasion.
Ferelden, having finally developed its hugely fertile lands for export agriculture after centuries of mere subsistence, found itself greatly desirable to His Radiance the Emperor. The Orlesians invaded twice in order to gain control of said lands. They found it a simple task on the second try. The invasion came not via the passes in the Frostbacks but by sea. The Fereldans did not have a navy, nor the network of coastal fortresses they have now. Orlais landed its armies at Amaranthine, and swept over the Fereldan plains until only the hills and swamps of the west and south were free from its rule.
Which brings us to why Amaranthine is so important today. Denerim, although the capital, can hardly be considered an all-year port. The mouth of the estuary it sits on opens directly onto the Amaranthine Ocean (an ironic name if ever there was one). The storms batter its walls directly. It is also the birthplace both of Andraste and the nascent Fereldan nation. The Orlesians found it entirely unsuitable for use as a capital or a port, with the added complaint that it is ugly as sin. An assessment I agree with.
So the Emperor chose Amaranthine as the site of a new capital, built in the Orlesian style. The village grew to a city almost overnight, employing huge numbers of native Fereldans to aid in the construction, starting with the sewers and ending with the walls. Soon afterwards, the economic might of the city raised its head, as the Orlesians began exporting grain from the Bannorn through it. Other goods soon followed. Ore, wool, leather, pelts, herbs, livestock. Amaranthine was, and is thanks largely to our own efforts, by far the richest city in Ferelden.
This is why the Howes joining the Rebellion against Orlais was such a big deal, and probably why Rendon Howe found his rewards for doing so to be meagre at best.
By the time we had arrived, the city had been through it to some extent. Old Rendon had sold almost all of the original elven population into slavery in Tevinter during the Fifth Blight. The City had been assaulted by the darkspawn barely a year later, barely holding out under Warden-Commander Andras' leadership.
Amell and Andras both began the healing process. The elves of Denerim were welcomed by Amell after an attempted pogrom over their bann marrying a human woman. Andras had fostered production and trade, assuring the place of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. With the agreement of Fergus Cousland, a Howe even sat as its bann as vassal to Andras. What the people might consider the 'natural order' had been restored.
It was to that city we had arrived in November of 9:39.
I examined the walls of Amaranthine, darkened in shadow as the orange sun began its journey, overwhelmed by a sense of nostalgia. They were just like those in Hearth in design, a solid high wall protected by roundtowers. Albeit bigger by ten feet at least. Below them were the cottages and huts of the labourers, one and two floor buildings sheltering from the gusting wind. No smoke came out of any of those chimneys. For the obvious reason.
No doubt someone had ran north from the Vigil shouting to every homestead "The chevaliers are coming! The chevaliers are coming!"
As I observed, I was being observed, which made me itchy. Between the crenellations, there were men peering down, too far for their faces to be read but clearly expecting a fight. The aforementioned chevaliers led by Louise were all drawn up in battle array just outside of longbow range, with my good self at their head with my companions. And directly behind us, Mike and her pike/crossbow tercios.
Awaiting good king Alistair and the freshly minted Arlessa of Amaranthine to emerge from the gates.
"They're scared," I frowned, "Might put up a fight out of fear."
"No good," Ciara mused, "If someone showed up and told me soldiers had to sleep in my home, I would want to fight too." That very complaint was mentioned in my own homeland's declaration of independence, no less.
"They would be stupid to," Julie replied, "They should consider how the soldiers would feel being targeted. And how soldiers react to such resistance." Words spoken from experience, I thought. Experience she hadn't relayed to Tam or I.
"Their king is well loved," Louise said, "I doubt they shall defy his will. In fact, we should not have let the King enter. He could simply take command of the city and attempt to hold out against us."
That would have been foolish in the extreme. "Which is why we have Anne d'Anzio," I replied, "That gatehouse won't stand up to her." Anzio Annie being the name of our large siege artillery piece, the only one we had made by that point.
"This is Ferelden," Leha warned, "They defy whoever they damn please. Their king, our army, it doesn't matter. We'll do what we must, as we always have."
"We would be wise to show restraint," said Tam, sniffling, "In all things."
"You're all getting ahead of yourselves," Armen agreed, "First, they have to open the gate or indicate that they will not do so."
"If they open the gate," Louise said, "That too may be a trap."
We all homed in on the thing in question, staring at it, almost willing it to rise up. It refused, staying firmly down, as it had for a half hour already. I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. There wasn't any tension to rub away, just boredom. I wanted Alistair to get on with whatever way he was going to swing things.
Lucky us that a piece of entertainment was forthcoming.
Louise walked her horse over to me, cutting in between Ciara and I. Close enough for me to see her eyes through the skull-mask's eyes. I backed off an inch in the saddle. "Marquis, may I have a word with you?" she asked.
"You already have," I said, inviting her to continue with a gesture. She didn't seem to get the message until I turned my head to her.
"I wish to apologise," the chevalier continued, "For the behaviour of my cousin. Had I known she would..." That's as far as she got before she was interrupted by the unsuppressed snickering of the Dalish huntress behind her, bubbling out without shame. Blondie's mask swivelled like a tank turret towards Ciara, and with about the same level of deadly intent.
"Oh, don't even dream I'm afraid of you," Ciara chuckled, wagging a finger, "You're just a big fluffy dog under all that armour. Worrying about your cousin like she's your sister is the proof."
The dear Baroness de Villars spluttered an unintelligible objection, before gathering herself. "I'm trying to speak to the Marquis," Louise said to her, "About something of great import."
I looked to Julie and Tam, to see their reaction. Julie was smirking, highly amused by it all. Tam was impassive, either not caring or succeeding in projecting the same. No trouble ahead then. I breathed out with relief.
"You're worried about Mariette," I said, turning back to Louise. She paused, to consider her words.
"I know her behaviour is not what you view as normal," the chevalier explained, "I am worried that she is making herself unwelcome." And thus putting herself in danger. The circumstances of Mariette's arrival into our hands weighed heavily on Louise's shoulders
"Mariette is not unwelcome..." I started, before I was sure exactly how to finish, "She saved my life, but..."
"She just has bad timing," Julie said, bringing me to my own conclusion, "We are not adverse to taking whatever pleasure that life gives us. There is too much suffering in the world to do anything else."
"So you are not furious with her?" said Louise, "For presuming to..."
"I am Orlesian, just as you are," Julie smiled, "I understand. Sam is beginning to, as for Tam..."
"I don't care," Tam cut in, "Provided I do not disapprove of the person in question."
Which ruled out most of the female population, incidentally. Just not enough of it. In truth, Tam is probably the only one who would have tolerated it if I had taken up whoring as a leisure activity, she separated sex from emotional connection the most out of all of us. Qunari upbringing will do that to a person. Yet she was possessive when it came to emotional availability. For the same reason.
"And someone who saves Sam's life, or my life, isn't someone Tam could disapprove of," Julie continued, "Unless they were horrible."
"Mariette is not horrible," Tam agreed, "Merely annoying."
An amused breath escaped me. "Just don't tell her we said all this," I said, "We have enough on our plate without adding to her confidence about trying to bed us."
"You're getting married in two months," Julie said, "Maybe you have too many women in your life." Whose fault is that. I wouldn't have been there if you didn't want to surround yourself with women too, my dear Julie.
I had long thought along the same lines though. Armen and McNulty were my only refuge from this reality, and it was a rare occasion when we got together without female company coming with. I considered adding Barris to the group, but holy rollers didn't strike me as being particularly fun. Markham was a grouch, so he was off the table. Couldn't drink with Shovels or some of the other lower ranked officers I had a passing acquaintance with either, they were subordinates. Chain of command considerations there.
"Yes, I'm doomed," I said flatly, "Doomed to a life of being surrounded by women."
"It will end in tears," Leha said, equally as toneless as I had been, "I'm sure of it." Which is why she took her pleasures through rentboys.
Grand-Cleric Brandon, who never missed an opportunity to lecture me on the subject, would have agreed. With the idea that it would end in tears, not the rentboys. As far as I know. She would lecture me, and not Julie or Tam, because they couldn't get themselves knocked up. Such lectures being boring and formulaic, I've mostly omitted them from this biography. Mostly.
"Don't knock it until you've tried it," I smiled back.
Whatever the reaction I would have gotten from that, the portcullis beyond began rising with the sound of chains, and the reinforced city gates began creaking open too soon afterwards, the noise carried by the wind. The retinue that rode out of the outer buildings was small, but larger than what rode in. The King, the Warden-Commander, a noble lady and seven armed retainers. Knights, probably. They came directly to us.
Julie nudged Revas forward to bring herself ahead of the main body of troops a little, and waited for them.
The King and Warden-Commander brought their guest forward, a woman in her thirties with neck length black hair, a familiar face with a grave look on it, dressed in dark colours of the sort nobles wear when they're not trying to flaunt their wealth. I knew immediately who this was, the likeness was uncanny minus the masculinity.
"Marquise, Marquis, this is Delilah Howe," Andras said, "Bann of the City of Amaranthine."
The other Howe. Well, the other adult one.
Delilah inclined her head in greeting, before speaking. "Marquise, before I allow entry of your army, I demand guarantees for the safety of my vassals and their property."
"You're not in any position to demand anything," I said, eyeing the King, "What sort of guarantees?"
"She wants to know if they'll all be raped and robbed, my love," Julie replied, "Perhaps I should explain how we plan for this to work? Bann Delilah, you can decide afterwards."
Between a gentle occupation and an artillery barrage, there isn't too much wiggle room. The Bann was playing a dangerous game, probably trying to save her own skin once we left. If the occupation was harsh and she let it happen without trying to get guarantees, she could face revolt. Although I did not get to know her well, perhaps it was out of genuine concern. Regardless, I supposed we could indulge this feigned tantrum, if it kept her people happy.
"That is acceptable," Delilah said, crossing her hands over the front of her saddle.
"Sam here will be military governor," Julie began, waving her hand to me, "Marquis de la Fayette, you know him as."
Delilah examined me for a moment with her grey eyes, before they returned to Julie.
"He will govern the city in our name for as long as we are here," Julie continued, "The rest of us have more pressing matters to attend to."
This was a role I accepted with great reluctance. Julie and the other heads needed to work on political matters, weapons, or the logistics of keeping the Army fed and healthy while packed in a city. I was the one with counterinsurgency and urban fighting experience. Plus I was considered a famously soft touch by Thedosian standards, which was what was needed here. Not that it didn't wound my pride a little to hear that.
"As for rape and robbery, the general orders of the Free Army prohibit both. The punishment for rape is death by firing squad. The punishment for robbery is flogging and a fine. We shall however be taxing your merchants during our stay. We'll disarm your troops. If you want to consider that robbery, that's your problem."
Julie awaited the response impatiently, her mouth tugged slightly wider than usual being the tell. Delilah was taking her time.
"It is not a problem," she said, "But I wonder what my role will be."
"You will have none," Julie replied sternly, "You will go to your country estate or to Denerim with the King. The Marquis will administer Amaranthine, the city keep will become headquarters for our operations here. Any property you leave behind will not be damaged or appropriated. This is as much for your protection as it is ours. If something goes wrong, you would be powerless to stop it or punish us."
"Prudence demands you go," Tam added, "So that when we leave, your reputation remains intact."
That seemed to satisfy the bann. Her face tugged Perhaps her reputation and ability to rule after we had left was what she had been worried about. I personally think it more likely that the King relayed the tale of me leaving her brother out in the rain, and took that as a measure of my morality. I suppose it was, to some extent. Karmic retribution is somewhat of a hobby of mine.
Nathaniel Howe had advocated engaging in an unnecessary battle in which thousands died. The least he deserved was a cold shower.
"The city is yours, Marquise," Delilah said, "I pray to the Maker you shall be merciful."
Julie called to Louise and I to move. "Lead the Marquis to your Keep," she said, as we came level, "The Army will begin entering the city in three hours. You must announce our terms."
"I understand," said Delilah. She turned her horse about, and joined Louise and I at the head of the Guard. Five hundred chevaliers and squires, superbly mounted on barded horses, wearing cuirasses and masked helmets, sabres resting in scabbards. Exactly the intimidating sight we wanted to project. Showing off the stick, before we gave out carrots. In aid of that, I delayed giving the order to move out for a moment, as I myself put on the skull half-mask that Louise had given me at Honnleath.
"Have to look the part," I said to Delilah, whom stared through the entire process of taking off my helmet to put on the mask, "Move out!"
I spurred Bellona forwards, and she broke into a fast trot. The low rumble behind me told the tale of the Guard having done the same. Louise and Delilah matched my pace with the ease of noblewomen-born, except with a great deal more grace. I was never going to be a cavalry man, I rode my horse with more effort that necessary. Not that anyone would notice that. Bellona was the gentlest of mounts.
We rode down the main thoroughfare, not caring for the possibility of ambush, and straight through the open gate, slowing to a walk once I was through.
First thing I noticed was the lack of guards. There were maybe two dozen, and they were dressed in the same silverite I had seen at the Hafter. This was fewer than one would have expected. I craned my head around to look up at the walls to my left. Most were up there, bows in hand. I guessed Delilah riding alongside us was the signal that there wasn't to be any fighting. With the possibility of open combat gone, I could consider the city for more unconventional conflict.
Amaranthine shares its general principles of urban planning with Halamshiral, Val Royeaux and our own fair cities. Long, wide avenues acting as arteries, threaded with smaller streets, dividing the city into quarters and blocks filled with red-tile roofed multi-floor buildings. The maintenance on all the routes wasn't exactly up to standard, but still, this was good news. It meant we could control the avenues with our cavalry, and move troops about very quickly. The buildings were stone too, so the fire hazard was minimal.
But when it comes to cities, you need local help to dive into knowing them well enough to fight in, if you want to avoid spending time and lives doing it otherwise.
"Lady Howe," I called, "I don't suppose you could give us the tour?"
"I can, Marquis," said Andras from the side, appearing from behind, "Lady Howe has only a few hours to prepare for your Army, remember?"
A fair point. "That works," I said, before turning to Delilah, "You may go ahead, my lady."
Bann Howe took off at a gallop inside a second, seemingly eager to be out of my presence. Or she worried that preparations for the quartering of our troops might not be completed in time unless she hurried. Could have been both. Either way, she wasn't the person who had the real power.
"Warden-Commander, those are your troops?" I said, flicking my head back at the silverite-clad troops on the walls and by the gate.
"Yes," said Andras, "The Bann is forbidden to possess more than fifty troops, due to her father's actions. All the city guards are under my command. I ordered almost all of them to join the Royal Army when word of your arrival came, as was my duty. I left the garrison to keep order."
"Order them to stack their arms," I said, "Now."
Andras looked at me like I had just insulted her, but there was nothing to do but bow to the inevitable. "If that's what you want," she said, "But it may provoke looting."
"It is what I want," I said impatiently, "I doubt anyone will start looting just yet, not with an army due to come in within hours. Louise, delegate a lieutenant to oversee the collection of weapons."
"Yes, Marquis," the chevalier replied, before waving over one of her seconds and explaining what was expected of them.
Between that and Andras explaining to her own sergeants what was going to happen, fifteen minutes passed before the Fereldans began placing their swords along a wall and piling up their armour. Their former owners seemed sad rather than pissed, which was a middling state of affairs. Dejected men don't rebel, but can get angry easily, and angry men do rebel.
Once I was sure that the whole force of the garrison would appear to follow orders, I gave another one of my own. I spoke into my mouthpiece. "This is Hunt," I said, "Mike, send a regiment to secure the south gate. The garrison is surrendering their arms."
"Yes, my lord," Mike replied over the comms.
Satisfied that the general would get the job done, I turned back to the Warden-Commander. "Lead on," I said, "Let's see what we're dealing with."
Andras nodded, and pointed to the right of the avenue, to the sections of housing that were locked up tight, windows barred and blocked. "That's the Chantry quarter. Most of the well-to-do people live there, where they don't have to interact with anyone coming off the boats." Because sailors were far too … salty to show up regularly to sing the Chant.
"Marquis, if I may be so bold," Louise said, "I advise we quarter as many of our elves there as possible."
I raised an eyebrow. The chevalier was the last person I would have expected to make that recommendation. House the elves in the fancy part of town?
"What, to cure the locals of their prejudice?" I asked, "Seems a bit stupid."
"On the contrary, that may be the only place the elves are safe," Louise said, "The poor humans compete with elves for work. The merchants do not, and are more educated. The Templars and the local families will not tolerate unrest there, they will help us keep order."
"What about the alienage?" I asked, "Shouldn't we consider that first?"
The Warden-Commander laughed heartily. "Have you not seen an alienage, Marquis?" Andras asked, seeming superior all of a sudden.
"I lived in the Dales," I growled back, "There are more elves there than humans. Halamshiral is one big Alienage." That wasn't strictly true. I was getting defensive on my credentials as a champion of equal opportunity there. I had the wrong end of the stick.
"I will have to show you, then," said Andras, taking my answer to mean 'no', "You will see why quartering troops in the Alienage is simply not possible soon enough."
She turned in her saddle and pointed to the left. "That's the Artisan Quarter," she continued, "Most of the human working population lives there too. Those that don't live just outside the walls, as you saw. Weaving, spinning, dyes, it all happens there. Some of the finest smiths in the world live here too, working iron, steel and silverite. Somewhat of a rivalry between them and your own people, actually. Eastern Dalish workmanship is ranked up there with Amaranthine work."
There did seem to be an excess of chimneys in that part of the city. But there seemed to be more wood in the construction of the buildings there. I was surprised it wasn't down by the sea.
"Isn't it a little far from the water?" I asked, "Smithing needs water. So does putting out fires. Most metalworking happens outside of city walls."
"The forges are located in all-stone buildings," said Andras, "Amell made a rule that they had to clear an area of fifteen feet between them too. Caused a stir with that, but the blacksmiths simply pooled their resources and bought buildings. Big hero ended up compensating them for it too. Hasn't been a serious fire in the city since, excepting a couple of bakeries now and then."
"Let's make sure that doesn't change," Louise said, "What sources of water are there?"
"There are wells everywhere," Andras shrugged, "The smiths don't like using seawater for their work. I don't know why, but they say it's important."
All of this struck me as very detailed knowledge. "You seem to know the city well," I remarked, "Spend much time here? I thought you would be up at Vigil's Keep, most of the time."
"More than half my time is spent here," Andras replied, "Aside from my duty as an Arlessa, or potential one as it was, Warden-Commanders are not supposed to go off fighting, if they can help it. Dear Duncan couldn't of course, but he didn't have the resources that I do here. Warden-Commanders are supposed to prepare the realms they are sent to for wars of annihilation against more horrible monsters than mere men."
Louise scoffed. "All men are monsters. Take their food, put a weapon in their hand and a woman in front of them," she said, "See what happens. The darkspawn in the Deep Roads died easily enough."
Andras rolled her eyes under her hood, not in Louise's light of sight. "They wouldn't have died easily if an archdemon had been awake," she said, "Soldiers always think the darkspawn are bested by mortal means. Until they're facing a corrupted dragon god directing their puppets with malign and ancient intelligence. Then, they die, or come crawling to us for aid."
"Things have changed," Louise replied, "The darkspawn will never master the weapons we are beginning to. What is an archdemon without its army? A single dragon. The Nevarrans hunted dragons nearly to extinction in teams as small as twelve, and they did not possess blackpowder weapons."
"Archdemons can turn bountiful lands into lifeless desert," Andras replied, "A dragon that cause miscarriages and stillbirths, summon forth foul mists to poison water and air, bringing death to men, beasts and crops. Your blackpowder can fight armies, but it cannot fight famines and droughts."
Louise shook her head in disagreement, ready to pounce on that. She believed, as more or less all chevaliers believe, that her kind were the greatest soldiers on the face of Thedas. She said so often.
I felt the need to interrupt the argument. I respected both of them. I didn't need them locking horns on who was the better soldier.
"We have other weapons against lack of water and food," I said, "But we're getting off point. You know much about this city. I presume you'll share that knowledge?"
"Of course, Marquis," Andras said, mollified for the moment, "Shall we continue the tour?"
The column of chevaliers moved along the avenue, horseshoes clapping the stone, a section taking up positions to either side of us so that we wouldn't the first ones hit if anyone decided to take a shot at us. Here and there, you spotted movement in the upper floors, a face peering out of a window just enough to see us. The people were utterly terrified.
That put butterflies in my stomach. On the one hand, it seemed to me like a natural reaction in an occupied city. On the other, the city had been surrendered peacefully and that usually meant lenient treatment. Were they afraid of a sack? Or were they afraid of who was in the army? Mages, Avvars, elves... A man from another world with seemingly divine protection against magic.
We passed to the main crossroad of the city, dominated by the main guardhouse, a building that looked remarkably like the prison I had managed to burn to the ground in Halamshiral in my first few days, albeit in miniature. It was here I also began to hear the soft sighing of the sea in the distance, and smell the salt over the 'earthy' scent of the city. Something I'd grow accustomed to.
Andras stopped the advance in the middle of the crossroads. The action sent the chevaliers into a hurry, spreading out rapidly into a protective circle around us. There still wasn't a soul on the streets, though I could have sworn I heard murmurs. The Warden-Commander pointed off to the left first, to the quarter in front of a large castle.
"That's the Market district," she said, "If you want to buy something in Ferelden, chances are you'll find someone hawking it there. The main market square is in the middle of it, the buildings around it are shops, taverns, inns and counting houses. Beyond is Anora's Watch, the new castle and seat of Bann Howe. The Queen found the vulnerability of the city unacceptable after the darkspawn attacked. She reluctantly commissioned the construction, using part of the existing city wall so it has access to the city, the outside and the docks"
The castle did seem more 'Fereldan' in design than what else we had seen so far. Less elegant, more rough-hewn. It occupied the corner of the city by the sea. Overlooking the docklands, no doubt. They were the place I wanted to see, partially because it was where most of the civilians would likely have to be stationed for the duration, and partially because Fisher and his fleet were waiting for us. Andras however had other plans.
Instead of continuing the ride down the main thoroughfare or explaining what was to the right of it, she rode in that direction. We followed, after resuming our previous column formation with some difficulty.
The Warden-Commander was waiting for us a block away, at a more narrow avenue that ran parallel to the central one. The buildings' upper floors were built to overhang the street too, as if the owners were trying to grab every last scrap of available space, without interfering with traffic. Not that you'd want to get a cart down there either way, with supports for balconies punctuating the whole length of it. Couldn't make a cavalry charge there either for the same reason, coupled with the low clearance.
It was here we finally saw some people too. Mostly young women gawking, of all races, but accompanied by men I certainly wouldn't want to face sans feu-lance. I knew a red light district when I saw one. The name hardly got rid of that impression.
"Doxy Row," said Andras with a frown, before switching to Orlesian, "Being the only major port in Ferelden, Amaranthine attracts the sex trade like flies on shit. Lots of men coming and going. Sailors on the low end, traders on the high end. Pilgrims too, funnily enough. Some work willingly, some not. Those that aren't willing never admit it."
Shaking my head, I wondered what the Warden-Commander was playing at. I didn't understand why Andras was showing me this, at the time.
Did she expect me to do something about it? Or was she warning me that the presence of my forces was likely to cause misery in this particular part of town, if I wasn't careful? Buying women wasn't something I did myself, I found it morally objectionable to put it mildly. Although maybe that was because I hadn't ever needed to.
"There has to be a five or six blocks," I said, "They're all brothels?"
"Well, the Crown and Lion is at the very end," Andras conceded, "Large inn, no whoring allowed in there. But other than that, yes, all brothels. It's the only street in the city where they're allowed to operate. One avenue, only two entrances at the top and bottom. There are usually guards at either end." Guards whom were missing at present due to the war.
"Makes me miss Hearth," I said, "Can't say I approve of all this, we didn't have brothels." Though it did have prostitutes, of course. I wasn't even close to being that naïve.
"Hearth did have brothels, my lord," Louise corrected, "You do not know the story?"
I blinked, as if the woman had been speaking gibberish. I couldn't place anywhere as being a red light district in my adopted home town, and I had been to every part of it.
"What story?" I asked, "There were brothels in Hearth?"
"Of course, Marquis," Louise said, "There were. Until you bankrupted every pimp in the town when you recruited all the … working women." She was being careful to avoid calling our soldiers whores.
"I what?"
"From how General Moreau tells the story," the chevalier continued, referring to Soprano, "...the Lady Marquise went to every brothel in the town and offered better pay. Did the same in other towns, cleared out their brothels too. That is how the General came to your service."
"Soprano was a prostitute?" I asked flatly, "I thought she was a gang leader, all those tattoos."
"She was," Louise said, with obvious disapproval, "A gang leader of whores, and entirely unashamed of it. I was quite surprised. A literate whore is a rare thing." Couldn't help herself saying it there. She was as liberal as chevaliers come, but that had obvious limits. Lucky that Soprano was ruthless, with no compunctions about killing people looking to do her harm, same as Louise. Style was the main difference between them. They respected each other for that, at least.
Of course, the backstory I had never pried deeply into and had been afraid to ask about explained Soprano's character to a T.
The news was a revelation.
Further inquiries I made later even revealed somewhat of a cycle to the whole process.
The Army recruited all the prostitutes in Hearth, but its presence drew in more from elsewhere, many of whom signed up themselves later. I even talked to two girls whom had been camp followers on the Sahrnia campaign and had signed on as crossbowers in Mike's tercios for the Halamshiral campaign. By that point, the gender balance was so even and the discipline on the matter non-existent, soon word got around that there wasn't much money in whoring for the Free Army. Our soldiers took care of their own needs for the most part.
"I had no idea," I said, "I thought that Des Arbes had just rounded up anyone without land, and dumped them on me."
Louise's mask tilted sideways slightly. "The Baron would have put out a proclamation," she said, "Asking for those without land whom wanted work to come at the appointed time, in addition to the vassals. This is how things are usually done when we wish to repopulate a neglected fief. It would have been no difficult thing for the Lady Marquise to go to the women of the street and inform them that good pay was forthcoming."
Especially as I had repeatedly said beforehand that I wasn't going to treat my vassals like serfs or tenants, but rather more like employees. Within the bounds of good military sense, of course.
"I don't suppose you could do the same here?" Andras asked, "Recruit away the women? Give me an excuse to shut down the whole street?"
"Why?" Louise asked, "There are brothels in every town and city in Thedas. The Chantry's attempts to shut them down have always failed."
"In some places, the workers run the brothels," Andras said, "In others, the most disgusting men ever to breath do. Amaranthine is one of those places. I don't wish to stop the trade, I wish to starve the men who run it of coin to pay their thugs for long enough to make a difference."
I frowned, doubtful that would have worked. The pimps would have found other sources of women. Kidnapped them from farms and fishing villages, more likely than not, if they couldn't get the Alienage's women. Although perhaps Andras was counting on that.
"You're the Arlessa," I said, "Can't you do anything now?"
Andras shook her head. "The owners have no direct connection that I can prove," she replied, "Even with the King's blessing, my position as Arlessa is precarious. I could kill or arrest those I know to be responsible. My opponents in the Landsmeet may use that as an excuse to remove me, or charge me with treason."
Without a doubt, I thought. But this led me down another line of thought, one that I couldn't shake off. It all seemed like it wasn't my problem, until I realised that it was and Andras knew that.
"Which is why you're showing it to us," I said, "You know that if there will be organised resistance, the brothel owners are the only people with the resources to carry it. No doubt they have weapons tucked away, in case the day ever came that you wanted to be rid of them. And by bringing us here, you've already stoked those same men's fears."
A wry smile spread over Andras' face, unhidden by her hood. "You are an intelligent man, Marquis," she said, "I cannot deny my motivations."
"Was assuring your place as an Arlessa not favour enough?" Louise asked.
"No point having the title if you don't have the power too," the Warden-Commander replied, "Grey Wardens are not supposed to have titles in the first place. To many, that makes us illegitimate, even without being an Orlesian elf mage. Delilah cannot enact harsh justice either, not after her traitor father took that too far and killed almost all the Couslands."
"So you decided you would play on our emotions," Louise continued, "To rid yourself of this problem."
Andras looked at the chevalier with narrow eyes and a wide smile, unable to contain her amusement."It's another test," she said, "You can easily ignore this, but the values you claim drive your Army and your people should prevent you from doing so. I read your pamphlets. If you are the vaunted liberators you claim to be, you won't ignore it."
"We can't ignore it anyway," I said, "Military necessity dictates we disarm anyone in there."
"Pity you disarmed my troops then," Andras said, stretching her arms over her head, "We might have been able to help."
"We don't need your help to fight," I growled, "We will demand all information you have on these pimps."
"You'll get it," Andras said, "In the mean time, I'll show you the second half of the problem."
The Grey Warden's appropriately grey horse broke into a trot once more, continuing away from the main crossroads as before. As we moved, more and more shutters on upper floors seemed to be opening. People seemed to be realising we weren't going to burn the place down, and wanted a look. Still, it set my teeth on edge. Crossbows or Kalashnikovs, any one of the windows would have been a good place to take a shot from.
Andras led us to the junction with the next block, which opened up into a space equal in size to that of the one we had left behind to take that route in the first place. You might have taken it for just another market square, which it was with one particular difference. Another set of gates dominated the edge of the place, tall windowless buildings forming walls to either side of it, stretching off until they met the real walls of the city. It was clear that the gates were not as well built as those that led into the city, but they were still more than enough for its obvious purpose; to keep angry mobs away.
There was only one place this could be.
"The Alienage," I said, looking at the gate, "It's locked up."
"The... residents did that themselves," Andras said, "The city guard usually controls the gatehouse, but they felt that was a waste of manpower. In light of the threat to the city."
"And you can't get them to open it?" I asked, "We can't leave a part of the city outside of our control."
"I am sure that can be negotiated," Andras said, "But I would assign one of your elven generals to the task, if I were you. The one who speaks the best Common."
Which meant Soprano. Velarana had the education, but she was a mage.
"Why don't you negotiate on our behalf, Warden-Commander?" Louise asked, "You are an elf."
"I'm painfully aware of that, Lady de Villars," Andras said slowly, "But my job is to keep the peace after you leave, and I can't do that if I make a deal with the Alienage for you."
"Why's that?" I asked.
"The Alienage and the brothel owners have a dispute," she replied, "The brothel owners feel that their elven girls are their serfs, not merely their workers. The girls' relatives in the Alienage feel differently. There has been fighting."
If it wasn't for the mask over it, I would have slapped myself in the face. Great. We had just strong-armed our way into jurisdiction over a gang war.
"If I'm understanding you correctly, you have no authority to help the Alienage?" I asked, "Despite bodies being dropped?"
Andras took down her hood, revealing her ears. "My sympathies are obvious," she said, pointing to the long tips, "I kill the brothel owners, their relatives go to Denerim to seek justice. That's not a political fight I can win."
"So you want us to kill them instead?" Louise mused.
"I doubt you will have any trouble finding cause," Andras shrugged, flipping her hood back up, "Prostitution is hardly the only vice these gentlemen have their fingers in. Thieving, extortion, gambling. Your people are going to come across them sooner or later."
All the more so due to one particular fact. "Yeah, I get that," I said, "Probably doesn't help that we've been paying our soldiers for the past two months and they've had nothing to spend it on."
In fact, soldiers' pay was our only expense during the entire march, and Leha had budgeted for a full year's worth of campaigning, but also of manufacturing and payment for administrators. We were still campaigning, but we weren't spending anything on pushing paper or buying raw materials. As a result, our balance sheet would have been very healthy even without the paychests we had captured or the treasure we had seized at Halamshiral.
"I'm sure the tavern owners will be happy to hear it," Andras said, "But so will the alley-banns."
"Counter-insurgency," I muttered aloud, "Never thought I'd be back stamping out that kind of fire again."
My irritation must have been evident in my tone. "I'm sure General Moreau will enjoy bringing order to the situation," Louise soothed, "Assign the Avvars to the job too, if you wish to spare our own forces the burden." The Baronness being among Orlais' more famed Avvar-fighters, she would not consider the mountain tribesmen as a part of our movement for some time yet.
Of Soprano's enthusiasm for the task however, I could be certain. In fact, I already predicted a serious problem developing if I didn't set the Rangers loose to hunt down the 'alley-banns' as Andras had dubbed them. If we didn't get all of them in one swoop, we could almost certainly count on retaliation. Between Soprano's officers and the Alienage, it would take a miracle to stop them from mutinying.
As if to emphasize the point, something whistled past my head, sending me leaning away in the saddle, almost falling off Bellona's back in surprise. It was followed by a clatter on the pavement below, wooden splintering and a sharp metallic grinding. An arrow had missed my head by inches. The chevaliers' horses, again drawn about in a circle around us, neighed and stomped, sidestepping, sensing their riders' nerves. Sabres were drawn.
"Maker preserve me!" Andras shouted out in irritation, before switching to Common, "Shianni, that better not have been you!"
The Warden-Commander spurred her horse forwards, whipping her staff off her back and into her hand. I called for the chevaliers to hold, just in time to stop them pursuing her. She crossed towards the Alienage gates, her head raised, looking up at the buildings to either side.
On the roof of the left side were three or four elves with shortbows, which were almost certainly illegal in the hands of elves. Clearly the imminent predicted sack of the city was more fearsome than the threat of being executed for possession of a deadly weapon. City elves weren't even allowed kitchen knives of a size larger than their palm.
There seemed to be a terse exchange of words, a red-headed woman on the roof gesticulating widely, pointing at us and waving her arms about. Andras, to her credit, did nothing but raise her hand and turn it about occasionally.
"Looks like we can expect trouble from the city elves," Louise said, as if that were the natural state of affairs. I couldn't deny that it looked that way, though.
"We'll have to do something about that," I replied, "Or we'll be stacking bodies daily."
"Not the legacy you wish," Louise nodded, "We'll think of something, my lord. Even chevaliers have other means of winning compliance."
I grimaced under my mask. "Hostage taking is forbidden, Colonel," I said, "As is retaliatory attacks on the civilian populace."
"Understood, my lord," said Louse, "My apologies if I seem ... stubborn, my lord. We were taught a different mode of war." The ravage and pillage mode.
"It's alright," I sighed, "I've made allowances for that."
Andras rode back as I finished speaking, a scowl on her face. "It seems one of the young rogues decided to have a shot, Marquis," she said, "I've smoothed it over with the hahren. She will punish him appropriately."
"It didn't sound like you were smoothing it over," Louise mused.
The Warden-Commander shot a poisonous look at the chevalier, her staff glowing. "Shianni is not an agreeable person," Andras replied, "But when you are kidnapped from your own wedding by a noble and raped, then driven out of the city you called home, you tend to lose any natural agreeableness."
Louise remained silent, not even deeming to look at Andras in response. She was well aware of the behaviour of many of her fellow nobles, with regard to elven women. And she was not proud of it.
"This … hahren," I said, "I presume she is what you alluded to when it came to quartering troops in the Alienage?"
"She's not the main barrier, Marquis," Andras replied, waving at the Alienage itself, "There is simply no space. Every single floor of those buildings houses a family. Before I came, many only had a large room. The buildings are also poorly maintained, not out of lack of care but out of lack of resources."
I cringed. "Guess quartering anyone is out of the question then," I said, "I presume the only reason things are so bad is because you did not actually possess the title of Arlessa before?"
Andras gave a single nod. "That I might help my own kind was the reason so many nobles disagreed with my taking the title," she said, "Even with Delilah's support, even with the support of all the other banns in the arling."
"Now that you are the Arlessa," Louise said, "What will you do to help?" By the hand on her hip and the deeper tone of her voice, I could tell she was doubtful anything could be done. Not permanently. Ironically, this was an expression of her confidence in our own revolutionary principles; most half-measures don't work. They can be and are undone. There are exceptions. But not many.
Andras had no way of knowing that, of course.
"That depends on you," she said, "And whether or not you do decide to help."
I bit the inside of my cheek, sure that there wasn't anything we could do that would help. Not permanently, anyway. I shared Louise's opinion on the matter. The fact that the red light district lay right beside the optimum space for expanding the Alienage wasn't lost on me. They certainly couldn't do so into the Chantry quarter, the other adjacent quarter. But even if we were provoked into clearing the brothels out, and even if the Alienage was expanded that way, it wouldn't help anything in the end. Not without addressing the root cause.
"I'll have to talk to my officers," I replied, "See what they think about the threats you've brought to light."
"You cannot ask for more," Louise added harshly, "We did not come to Amaranthine to carry your water for you."
I held up my hand to quiet her, and express my disapproval of the outburst, but clearly Louise had had enough of the presumption of the Warden-Commander that we would be improving Amaranthine's state of affairs during our stay. That was no reason to be rude to our involuntary host.
"Colonel, secure the main crossroads," I ordered sharply, "Detach a platoon for my escort."
Blondie had the good sense to know not to second guess me when I was pissed off. She waved a lieutenant over, and gave the orders in a similarly sharp, clear tone. While the lieutenant drew off to organise the escort and his superior did the same to lead the rest of the column back the way we had come, I went to Andras.
"Sorry about that," I said quietly, "Baroness de Villars is... set in her ways."
"She's a chevalier," Andras replied, "That you can get her to work with elves at all is a surprise."
At the time, I simply thought of that as a general comment on the superiority of Orlesian nobles. Little did I know that there was a more specific and sinister reason for her remark.
Her eyes tracked the chevaliers canter off towards the centre of the city once more for a minute.
"I'll take you to the docks," the Warden-Commander said finally, "Something interesting already happened there."
The docklands were huge. Half as large as the city itself, sprawling northwards from the walls to the water itself. Warehouses, granary silos, carpentry shops, corderies and shipwrights, the entire space was filled with low wooden buildings, heavily varnished and roofed with dark grey slate. The roads were wide, to accommodate the carts required to take goods to and from the ships. I could see the tops of ship masts in the distance.
The city walls extended outwards to the water, enclosing all approaches except by sea. All very interesting evidence of Ferelden's actual wealth, but less interesting than the groups of well built men in furs hanging around.
They were longshoremen, stevedores. Tattoos, muscle, scowls, hands that looked swollen with years of hard labour. You would have had to been an idiot to mistake them for anything else. The humans and elves. Both equally strong in build, which is no mean feat for the elves. They eyed us as we passed. All of us in general, the chevaliers still with their sabres drawn from when they had done so within the city, Andras and myself in particular.
Yet the Warden-Commander said nothing, did not warn of the potential threat. I inquired.
"Don't slaughter anyone and the dockers won't be a problem," Andras said, "Half of them aren't even Fereldan-born. Those that have that honour are elf-blooded."
"Elf-blooded?" I asked, "Like Julie?"
Andras stopped her horse with a rapid tug, and looked back at me with raised eyebrow. It was the first time she was hearing that particular fact. She must have thought it politic to address the issue at hand, however. "Where do you think these men go for entertainment?" she asked, "And who do you think does the whoring work in human cities? Alienage girls, mostly."
A circle of life, so to speak. Men working the docks, themselves often of foreign extraction, get the elven whores pregnant. The children are shunned as being both racially mixed and fathered by foreigners. Which forced them to work on the docks or in the brothels themselves, having no other route to a respectable living standard.
Ferelden was in some ways a more racist place for its greater freedoms. No one cared that Julie was elf-blooded. First because she was a peasant, and what Orlesian noble cared about the bloodlines of peasants? Second because she 'married' a noble, not an uncommon thing for a successful businesswoman, and wielded political power to the point of being an anomaly of history. Whereas it's possible she may not have even become a blacksmith in Ferelden, depending on the mood of the mob wherever she might have tried to practice.
"And it's not like you've got contraceptives," I nodded, "Guess the dock workers aren't well regarded."
"They're looked down on, yes," Andras said, "Which is why they've been of great help to me."
"Along with the whores?" I asked.
Andras shook her head. "They're too afraid," she replied, "Most of them." As people held on short leashes are, more often than not.
We continued the ride, finally clearing the buildings some minutes later. A brisk sea air drove through us, making me glad for my furs and sending my eyes watering. I had to take off my mask and put on my plastic goggles, which finally allowed me to see.
The bay of Amaranthine unfolded before me, the islands beyond clearly visible at dark shapes breaching the horizon. The water was a black-blue, calm with the occasional white spray where the wind from the east caught its surface. It did not churn, and its waves were small, lapping at the stone of the dock and the wood of the piers without any ferocity. At anchor on the water were three dozen ships, of a startling variety of designs.
I searched for Fisher's fleet, which would be easily recognised by the Stars and Stripes. Instead of finding our colours flying on one of the ships we had captured on Lake Calenhad, I found them atop the mast of a huge three masted vessel, one of three identical ones. I soon recognised the smaller ships around them as ours, to my utter bafflement.
"Looks like Fisher went and found himself some upgrades," I thought aloud, "But how the hell did he pull that off?"
"Oh, the ships?" Andras said, "There was a report of Orlesian ships trying to make port. The harbour master refused them, due to your invasion, but they apparently had word of the civil war in Orlais itself and refused to move off. Wanted to trade spices, linen, cotton and silk from the north for grain. The usual trade, in fact. Another report came in soon afterwards; mutiny. The ships then forced their way closer to shore, and made a magical display to ward off any attempt to repulse them."
Not that the Fereldans had a navy to repulse anyone with. The news that Marable's Isolationists had actually threatened someone to defend their fellows probably would have made the presence of such a navy irrelevant anyway.
The mutinying crews must have been Jaderites, I thought. They were the most able sailors in Orlais. Practically the entirety of the Orlesian merchant marine was recruited there. No doubt when Fisher had seen the ships and the colours of Orlais on them, he had followed them into the bay and got in contact with the crews, whom probably had been out of the loop until then. Orlesian merchant vessels range as far north as Par Vollen. That's a long way from Jader.
"Good thing we need ships," I said. We were still unsure if Tiberius could collect enough vessels to transport everything. And we had no intention of leaving behind a single person, animal, cart or piece of equipment. "Julie will be pleased."
"She is," said a voice from behind. It was the woman herself on Revas, Tam by her side on Fritz, both of them wearing goggles too. They were escorted by Isewen's lancers, all of whom looked worse for wear in the high winds, but stomaching it as best they could in light of the stevedores looking on. Which reminded me of why the hell Julie and Tam hadn't come along in the first place.
"You were supposed to wait outside," I said, "Until I was sure this wasn't a trap."
"The price you pay for not calling on the radio," said Tam, touching me on the cheek, before looking at the ships, "I think Fisher may need a promotion."
"If he'll accept one," I said, "He still isn't under my command, technically." He was pretty cooperative, despite not having any commission.
"He acquired more ships," Tam said, "He cannot complain about commanding them."
"The more ships the better regardless," Julie shrugged, "Warden-Commander, know if there are any other Orlesian ships we can steal?"
I laughed at her instinct for thieving the property of Her Radiance, which was ever active. To an absurd extent, as no doubt some readers can ascertain from her actions. She faked a pout, as if my laugh insulted her honour slightly. I waved the chevaliers with me forwards, along the docks, leaving her to her joke. It was time to reunite the last part of the family with the whole. Fisher and Marable deserved a big sloppy kiss each for their work as far as I was concerned.
But once they had been given their kisses, the ships were secondary. Within hours, we would be filling up the city with troops and refugees. To the brim. We had work on land to do first.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: And so the Free Army finally enters Amaranthine.
Once again, this part of the story ran longer than I thought it would, and so it became its own chapter. Louise got some airtime, something I felt was required after Mariette's place in the last one. Amaranthine the City as I understand it is also introduced, and I feel like I've done a pretty good job in painting it. Loosely based on both the layout of Orlesian cities (of which Amaranthine is one in terms of design) and that seen in Dragon Age Origins (which has its natural limitations due to game/storyline separation etc).
In other news, I finally got deviantart working, under this same nickname. There you can find maps of the battles of Sahrnia and the Hafter, with other battles like Lydes, Vindargent, and Honnleath to come. There's also a higher res version of the cover image of this story, as well as recruitment posters from the Battlefield 2183 stories to be found.
Thepkrmgc: I was a tad worried I hadn't got Alistair right, cheers.
Transcendant: I've indeed thought about what titles and system the republic is going to have. The position of High Chancellor will remain, but it won't be quite the same thing as it was back in Hearth. As for the system, it will be decided in Amaranthine.
Katkiller-V: Thanks as always for the review.
5 Coloured Walker: I laughed out loud when I thought of that little twist, startling someone in the Tim Hortons I was in at the time. It was just so... like her. Thanks!
Twinbuster2: Inquisition is still a year away, though I'm tempted to move the timetable up a bit. Not very though. There's still lots of canon territory I can mess with in between. Varric's interrogation by Cassandra as the basis for DA2 happens in Ostwick near the end of 9:40, for example.
Guest: I share some of that sentiment.
Viper0300: Really? The FFnet notice system is really buggy for some reason. Nothing I can do about that, just glad you checked anyway!