Chapter Sixty-Seven: Colditz Part I
Kirkwall harbour saw many a pyre in the aftermath of the battle.
Our victory at the Gallows was greeted warmly by our people, and even more so by the Kirkwallers. The Assembly voted to give commendations to the Dragoon, Highlander and Foreign Legion regiments. The Council of Notables and Merchants' Guild of Kirkwall both issued statements of praise, and began the process of rebuilding their city.
We began deconstructing the upper levels of the keep rapidly, turning the Gallows into a mound of rubble with the middle levels now becoming the top ones. Eventually, it would become a star fort, but for now, it was an artillery position.
The reaction of the rest of the Marches varied depended on your political allegiance.
To those that hated us and our ideas, it was utterly terrifying. The Gallows was as formidable a fortress as any on Thedas, although it was not in the best condition at the time. It was designed to be essentially impregnable to assault, susceptible only to being starved out. We took it by storm in less than a day.
Those who supported us celebrated the victory as what it truly was; the opening blow of the next stage of war.
Mercenaries hired by Libertarian nobles and merchants began seizing key road junctions and keeps all along the Minanter Valley, randomly at first, in coordination afterwards. Our OSS was doing the choreography. Our first victory led to a string of victories for our allies in turn.
So, not what you'd expect of Earth societies. The brutality that shocks the 'civilised' person in my homeland is acceptable as a strategic weapon to much of Thedas. It worked as intended.
Not even our High Chancellor was displeased. In fact, the whole thing managed to get Julie and Velarana to agree on something for once.
Of course, other eyes had watched and decided that the time for action was now or never.
The Kirkwall situation was still tenuous.
The nobles were very pleased that the Starkhaveners and Templars were gone, not particularly caring how that had been accomplished despite the fears of the Acting Viscount.
What they were less pleased about was the continuing Trojan presence on the Gallows, in addition to the one they had agreed to in the embassy. My little ploy in that regard had not been well received. Even before I returned to Troy, they sent word that they wanted us to keep to the original agreement, albeit not as a single body.
This was damned annoying. They were in exactly no position morally or practically to demand such a thing of us. We had just liberated their city from rapists and murderers, and they had no means of throwing us out. But I wasn't stupid enough to just dismiss them. I knew Julie and Velarana wanted Kirkwall on our side, so I immediately ordered the withdrawal of the bulk of our troops and the departure of the Navy's fleet.
Our only presence left was the Embassy guard, and the Gallows garrison. The former was a platoon of Marines. The latter was a mix of Navy gunners and my soldiers, there to set up the 200mm guns that we took from the Océane. At most, there were maybe 170 Trojan soldiers in both combined, a 140 of which were in the Gallows.
That bought us enough goodwill for a negotiation. Velarana wished to go herself, to convince the Kirkwallers of the necessity of the Gallows garrison. She understood the clear strategic advantage it would give us.
The Kirkwallers were having none of it. They said they wanted to talk to me, and me only, at the demand of a select few of the nobles.
Which is why I found myself in the Crossroads, in front of the eluvian to the Gallows, wearing a mask, silk and no weapons of any kind. Julie and Velarana insisted on seeing me off, as well as sending Mariette with me, also in a mask and silk.
So, there we were, all four of us. I often wonder what it would have been like if something else had come up. If Velarana had been the one to step through and conduct those talks. How different my life might have been. How different our history might be in the future. But we'll get to that.
The Chancellor approached us with her Marine guards and interrupting Julie wishing me luck.
"Marquis, allow myself to be perfectly honest with you," Velarana said, "I do not like this. The Kirkwallers are frankly below your attention. It sends the wrong message about our respective positions to let you go."
"They asked for him," Julie replied flatly, "And they'd be insulted if they got anyone else."
"Let them be insulted," Velarana shrugged, "Our way is to win the support of the people first. Or have you forgotten?"
"Is that a joke?" Julie smiled back, "Our High Chancellor has a sense of humour? Who knew."
The two of them had been getting on a little better. The whole thing had done quite a bit to heal old divisions. Military victory can do that, for a little while anyway.
"Nothing wrong with flattery either," I chipped in, "If those idiots think we're paying them their due respect by sending me, it's to our advantage."
There was general agreement on that point, both that the Kirkwall nobility were incompetent and that they'd appreciate meeting me rather than one of Velarana's flunkies.
The Chancellor wasn't done, however. She pointed a finger at Mariette.
"You," she declared, "Make sure he knows he's dealing with. You're supposed to be an Orlesian noblewoman. The Marquis will probably say something they don't like, you'll have to help."
Mariette grinned from under her half-mask. "Are you implying the Marquis is blunt?" she asked jokingly.
"Not at all," Velarana replied, her gaze flickering to me for a second, "I'm outright saying it."
"Yeah, yeah," I said in Common, shaking my head, "I can keep my mouth shut when I need to."
"Can you?" Julie mused, before becoming serious, "See you later today. I need to talk to you about production anyway."
"That'll be fun," I said flatly. Logistics was general's work, but that didn't make it exciting.
"Actually, it will be," Julie smiled, "We can officially arm everyone. Peacekeepers, Marines and reserves. I'm hoping you'll tell me that I can stop worrying about firelances. There's a number of projects I want to try."
"So, good news then," I said, holding my hands up in celebration, "Hopefully those projects of yours will be less expensive."
"Not likely," Julie snorted, "See you soon."
I nodded, saluted to the Chancellor, and gestured for Mariette to follow. The attending troops activated the eluvian for us. It flashed blue and revealed exactly what we expected; the inside of the Templar barracks in the Gallows.
There was no one visible waiting for us, but that was protocol. We still didn't fully understand how the eluvians worked in terms of transferring things around. We didn't know if someone could use a different eluvian from outside our network to access it. Nothing unusual, so Mariette stepped through first and I followed, the eluvian shutting off behind me.
The former barracks had been turned into the 'gateroom' for the eluvian by the addition of barricades, big fuckoff metal ones bolted to the floor with platforms behind to allow our firelancers to shoot over them without danger. The eluvian was in the middle of them.
The first sign of anything wrong was that there was not in fact firelances poking over them in our general direction. This was a gross dereliction of someone's duty at the very least. I felt a heat grow in my head.
"Sergeant!" I called, marching forwards quickly and weaving out of barricades, "Where are the sentries?!"
The next thing that was wrong became very quickly apparent. The hall was empty. There should have been a dozen people, either on the barricades or sitting at the barracks table on-call. Instead, there was a single person.
He was quite a bit away, at the other side of the hall. He had a round, slightly pudgy face, framed by short and sweaty black hair that would've been neat otherwise. He was short, something I could tell even when he was sitting down, and he huddled over something with a quill and inkwell. He looked like a clerk to me, even more so than Bran did.
I slowed my pace and went towards him in complete confusion. Had we hired someone to do the books? What was before me was an overworked accountant more than anything else.
"Excuse me," I shouted, "Just what the hell is going on?"
The man looked up, beady eyes regarding me as he shifted papers about. They were accounts, I realised.
"Do you have any idea how much you have cost me?" he said calmly, but loudly enough to be heard across the space between us. He eyed me over his documents for a moment, before resuming his work.
The absurdity of the situation stopped me in my tracks. What in the name of God was this person saying? Did I know this person? He didn't strike me as a noble or someone I had crossed. How could he be? He was someone I could've turned into a smear on the floor very quickly, and he didn't look rich enough to have people who'd care if he did suffer that fate.
Mariette moved silently in front of me quickly, drawing her daggers. My heart began to pump a little faster. Danger was near.
"Do you think those will help you now?" the man said, nonchalant, "You're wearing a dress wide enough to use as a tent." Which was true. Mariette had her max-frills dress on. Not exactly combat ready.
"Who is he?" I asked Mariette quietly.
"I don't know," she replied through her teeth, "But he is not a friend."
I frowned, not quite sure of that myself. Other than words, he hadn't exactly shown hostility, and even his words were mild compared to what I was used to.
I stepped around Mariette and drew closer, my footsteps echoing through the halls, the only other sound being the soft padding of my companion's own shoes. It occurred to me that having padded shoes was an advantage in sneaking up on someone, which was somewhat of a distraction for a moment, until I noticed another thing about the man ahead.
He was small, but well built. Not in the athletic way of Tam or myself, but more like a weightlifter. He had fat, yes, but muscle too, and no shortage of it. Pale but sunburnt. He had tattoos, small winding ones like waves up his arms, his rolled up sleeves revealing them. It did not change my previous assessment of what would happen if it came to blows, but it blew away the clerk impression. Now, I had no clue what to make of him.
"Who are you?" I finally asked.
There was a pause, as the man licked his thumb and filed through his stack of papers.
"We have never met," he said, "But you have cost me dearly. Three ships, three crews, the coin of three paychests... but most of all, Marquis de la Fayette, you have cost me reputation."
My mind turned over. I was beginning to suspect who he was. But how could he be that person? That person was a terror, not this mongrel of a clerk and a gym-bro. That person could not possibly be sitting unattended doing his books in the middle of one of my forts.
"Ianto," Mariette breathed, "But how?" If anyone knew what the infamous Ianto looked like, Mariette would have.
The man made no denial or confirmation. My body felt like it was twice as heavy as before. I could feel my heart pumping throughout my body now. If someone had jumped out and said boo behind me, I would've turned and struck them on pure fight-or-flight instinct.
"It was not easy," he said, "I had to make alliances that I otherwise would not have in a thousand years."
"Ianto the pirate?" I asked.
"Such a simplistic label," Ianto replied, finally looking me in the eye, "I am a merchant. I sell the fruits of the sea. The sea never fails to produce, unlike the land. There are fish, there are ships, there are things onboard ships, there are settlements on the shore and lost treasures hidden in many coves."
Bile rose in my throat, at the casual way he was speaking about his business.
"You sell people," I spat, "That is your fucking reputation."
"People are worth something," Ianto replied calmly, "They are a commodity just like anything else. And everyone sells them. They just have different ways of selling. In Orlais, the serfs are traded. In Tevinter, the slaves are sold without pretence. Here in the Marches, it is those in debt bondage."
"You son of a bitch," I growled, "Where are my soldiers?"
"In our hands," Ianto said, "My associates and I managed to surprise them so completely that not one lost their life. Of course, that situation continuing depends entirely on you."
Icy fury hit me like a brain freeze, giving me a bigger headache than the one I got from going to the Crossroads. But this soon turned to a sort of despair. I was unarmed. Mariette was insufficiently armed. There's no way an inferior force could have taken the Gallows. I also very much doubted it could've happened without magical help.
Negotiation was my only option, as pathetic as that was at the time.
"What do you want?" I asked, "You might have us, but you don't get out of this alive without talking to us."
"I want compensation for my losses," Ianto replied, "Luckily, you happen to be the most valuable single person alive today. As for your compatriots, they will not risk your life. The nobles who sheltered us these past months will assure that an assault would have no place to launch from. There will be no repeat of your little walk across the harbour, no matter how impressive it was."
The pirate whistled. From a number of doorways, pirates appeared along with what appeared to be a few Tevinter mages. The former were dressed as one imagines pirates of that era to dress. Tunics, trousers, bandanas, boots... cutlasses, daggers, crossbows. The mages were in dark robes, carrying grimoires and gnarled staves.
One of the Tevinters went to the table, the only visible facial feature being a perfect white smile simply dripping with menace.
"My master will be greatly pleased," the mage said, "The value of the Outlander to Lord Corypheus is incalculable."
It seemed many cats were leaping out of bags that day. I recognised an old Tevinter name when I heard it, and snarled silently to myself. Not only was I caught up with a kingpin criminal, but Tevene political bullshit as well. It was not looking remotely good for our prospects of getting out of this intact.
Ianto sighed, and put aside his documents, standing up. He looked a full foot shorter than I was, but was likely a few inches taller than that. His squat build was deceptive like that. He eyed the Tevinter with something approaching pity, which was something I could not have imagined he was able to fake. But evidently, he was.
"The value of the Marquis would be wasted in your hands," Ianto said, "The Venatori are not going to win the coming war. When it becomes apparent what your objective is, the entire world will rise against you. So you will not have him."
The mage spun around on the spot, staff glowing. "That was not the deal, pirate!" he said, "We swayed the soporati with blood magic and concealed your approach with fog! We got you onto this island! You agreed to help us capture the Marquis in return for coin and your revenge!"
"You were stupid enough to believe me," Ianto replied with a shrug, his face betraying nothing more than mild annoyance. He clicked his fingers, and a second later, a Holy Smite came through the room. A powerful one, the lyrium's power flickering blue light through the room. One of the pirates was a Templar... or at the very least, an ex-Templar.
The Tevinter mages fell to their knees, and the pirates set upon them like a wild mob. Thrashing them, beating them, slicing them. The mages screamed and moaned, the sound reverberating around the hall. It was pure savagery. Ears, fingers and noses were taken away as souvenirs.
Blood pooled on the floor, the nearest puddle of it not four feet away from where I was standing. The contents of my stomach threatened to rise up and out my mouth, but I fought it down, clenching my jaw shut.
"Cut off their arms and legs," Ianto ordered calmly, "And display the bodies on what is left of the walls facing the city. Put a few of the Trojan helmets on them. Mages are too much trouble to be a commodity without many Templars to watch over them, but they can serve as a statement when properly deployed. Even the much praised Peacekeepers will hesitate to attack with such totems in view."
Frantic, enthused nodding came from the pirates, as the chopping began. Some of the younger ones started trying to saw the flesh and bone apart, until older pirates slapped them on the head and proceeded to show them how it was done.
Ianto returned his attention to Mariette and I.
"Apologies. The Venatori were of some assistance in setting up all of this," he said, "But they are not to be trusted. Tevinters who believe in the old dragon gods and that one of the magisters who walked in the Golden City now walks the world are... too insane. Not to be cooperated with for anything other than immediate needs."
Considering what damage they did, cooperating with them at all is insanity.
"I'll have to take your word for it," I said, "We have money. But you don't want it, do you?"
"Not your money, no," Ianto confirmed, "You see, I know something about you. The Venatori seem very well informed about your nature. Your unique capabilities. Selling you back to your people would not only be unsatisfying, it would be throwing money away. But we shall get to that. For the moment, come with me."
Thus began one of the worst moments of my life.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies for the huge delay and short length. Life is getting in the way.