Chapter Eighty-Four: The Second Intervention
In Ferelden, there is a small village in the Arling of Amaranthine called Savinen, on the north side of the Hafter estuary.
Founded by the Orlesians in 8:43 Blessed on the site of a hamlet that was destroyed in the fighting of the second Orlesian invasion, it was home to a number of 'mixed' families; Orlesians, former servants to the chevaliers, had been granted land there. They often found Fereldan partners, and their children had a cultural inheritance that few others have even today.
Love conquers all, as I've said before.
The village was more or less forgotten in the course of the rebellion against Orlesian rule, though a steady stream of Orlesians were planted there right up until the victory of Maric Theirin.
The exception to this sleepy existence came during the Fifth Blight, when Loghain Mac Tir, fearing Orlesian agents where none existed, had Nathaniel Howe's father send a chevauchée party against the place. Loghain, never one to miss an opportunity to kill Orlesians, saw the bilingual, bicultural Savinen as more of a blight than the darkspawn.
Murder, rape and pillage followed, for three days and nights, until word arrived that Loghain had been killed for his crimes and Howe Senior got turned to ashes by the Hero of Ferelden. The raiding force immediately withdrew.
Probably to flee the country entirely, as Alistair's vengeance upon those that had followed Howe was terrible.
Savinen never forgot that day, and the entire surviving population resolved themselves to never let it happen again. They fortified their village and every child was taught in the use and maintenance of arms.
Needless to say, when we decided we had a need for a beachhead site in Ferelden, Mariette de Villars knew exactly where to look. We put an eluvian there under the care of the village elders, and in return we signed an agreement to defend the place should it come under attack by anyone.
The village called for aid as soon as the demons started appearing in the fields, and a platoon of the Grenadiers was dispatched via the Crossroads. Our troops killed the demons that got too close, and the Rage demons raged from a distance. The villagers were in our debt now too.
So, after the Assembly approved our plan to march a force under the banner of Tevinter into Ferelden, we sent it by eluvian through Savinen. Three thousand troops, former Tiberian slaves marching under the command of Trojan officers.
Our historians call this the 'Second Ferelden Intervention'.
The Fereldans probably have a less bland name for it but they do not think much about it, probably the second or third Orlesian invasion, they were a little busy at the time.
Regardless, our forces were once more on Fereldan soil.
Autumn in Ferelden is not very nice, as we discovered the first time we were there. It rains a lot, particularly in the north, and it's colder than anyone from Tevinter is probably used to. The storms were useful in one way, in that it gave plausible deniability to us for how we got to Ferelden; no one would've noticed a small ship creeping to a cove with an eluvian.
There's nothing pleasant about the rain soaking into your clothes. We had to rely on woollen cloaks or decent furs to stay dry, which wasn't hugely successful. Miserable doesn't begin to describe it.
Originally, I wasn't supposed to be going along at all. Formally, Aurelia was in command as 'Governor of the Far-Southern Provinces', and Mike was slated to be her second.
However, the High-Chancellor didn't feel that Mike had sufficient authority to overrule Aurelia if the need arose, and if Aurelia decided to react violently, Mike could do little against her magic. Chancellor Velarana was still an Aequitarian, she was not in favour of Tevinter excess being allowed to dictate our policy.
With the battles against the demons not involving any great strategy, just sheer effort of will and a whole lot of logistics, I ceded my position of Commanding-General to Soprano and took command of the Foreign Legion directly. That is not to say the war against the fade-fiends was easy, on the contrary; three thousand troops was about all we could spare for the moment.
We'd free up more once the League of Ansburg pulled its head out of its arse, but until then, I was stuck riding through the rain under the green dragon banner of Tevinter, the fifes and drums playing Brian Boru's March and Garryowen as we went. Just as I had given the Avvar Highlanders the symbols of Scottish regiments, to the Foreign Legion I had given Irish ones.
Aurelia was there too of course, prominent at all times, camping out with the troops rather than heading back to Troy via eluvian for the night. Each evening Marcus or Portia would bring Mark through to us, with a brace of other Tiberii to help. Sometimes Tam and Julie would bring his sisters too.
I had worried about Aurelia's direct participation so soon after giving birth, and made the mistake of saying so.
In response to this, Aurelia had stood up from her bed in front of Tam, Julie and myself, chanting something.
First, the luminous green-white light of healing magic poured out from her hands all over her, half-blinding us, followed up by every blood vessel in her body glowing a bright red. Using combined blood cleansing and physiological spells, she essentially healed herself to full fighting condition in about half a minute.
All Julie could say to her on seeing this happen was 'I hate you', which sent Aurelia laughing. Julie and Tam had to work hard, the supermage pretty much just snapped her fingers. Life truly isn't fair.
The Army proceeded to the Imperial Highway from Savinen at a good pace, encountering no resistance from Fereldan forces or demons.
We actually got onto the highway itself half a click from where we had fought the Battle of the Hafter, and we soon discovered why there were no Fereldan outriders patrolling; hellgates had opened all over the former battlefield, directly on the road to Denerim.
Similar rifts had opened all over the Field of Bones, where we had fought the Battle of the Alba. Mass combat weakened the Veil, making it easier to tear. This was well known.
We weren't there to clear the way to Denerim though, and we proceeded due west along the Imperial Highway with all speed.
We passed Vigil's Keep, and I sent a rider to the gate, to see if Warden-Commander Andras was there. The steward, Mistress Woolsey, was present with her servants. The Wardens themselves were all gone, but we did discover where the Fereldan Order had went; Soldier's Peak, an isolated fortress in the mountains between the sea and the Bannorn.
We had no time to go see what they were up to though, so I sent a message to Tam, informing her of where Andras and her troops were hiding, and kept on going.
We made excellent progress; it seems Alistair had done extensive repair work to the Highway, probably to facilitate the southern and eastern banns moving their troops west against Orlais in the event of another war. The good King saw Gaspard's imperialist ass coming a mile away, and even if he didn't, Anora would've pointed it out.
We saw many, many demons in the fields nearby. The hellgates south of the Waking Sea had larger interaction zones, and there were more of them. None blocked our way on the Highway, something Aurelia attributed to ancient Tevinter runestones placed in the foundations.
Figures that a magical empire would want to protect its main supply route against Fade creatures. Presumably the section by the Hafter didn't have strong enough runes to protect the Veil against the kind of slaughter that had been made there.
We turned south on hitting the shore of Lake Calenhad, keeping to the eastern shore route. The docks to the Circle Tower were abandoned, and the tower itself was as mute as ever from the outside. I'm sure there was a Templar or two over there, keeping the lights on, but all the mages had gone. There was no point going to check.
We followed the Highway around the smaller loop of the lake to Lothering, bypassing the town completely. The settlement had been overrun during the Blight, but had been rebuilt and had grown larger than its original size in the years since. They closed their palisade to us, and manned watch towers with many archers, but we never got that close.
The Imperial Highway was a raised stone freeway there, the same as it is in most of Orlais, so we just marched on by.
Unfortunately, they didn't see the dragon banners of Tevinter flying over our heads, they saw a bunch of soldiers with firelances, a weapon many in Ferelden had seen before. They knew what that meant; those crazy Orlesian rebels were back. Riders were sent out appropriately.
As we approached Redcliffe, this would mean trouble.
On the final east-west stretch of the Highway, we were forced to slow. The neglect of this part of the road was truly something. The rain had finally stopped for a few days too, and the sun made a reappearance for a little while. It improved my mood to no end, even if we did have to put up with the smell of damp mud for many a mile.
However, there was something that we couldn't ignore, which I couldn't help but point out to Aurelia as we rode along near the front of the column.
"Notice the remains of camp sites?" I asked her, as we passed by yet another field with evidence of days-old fires and latrines.
"A force of five thousand or so came through here, not long ago," Aurelia sniffed, drawing her black furs around herself closer. The cold weather was not familiar to her at all.
"You can tell just by looking?" I asked, genuinely impressed, "Can't say that counting old campfires is a skill of mine."
"I can tell by the size of the sites and the smell," Aurelia smirked, "Good commanders don't pack their troops in too tightly, and don't let them shit just anywhere. The larger the force, the more room they take up and the worse their latrine pits smell."
That was an even more impressive skill... but not one usually associated with noble ladies. But then, she had served on Seheron.
"So it's not rabble?" I thought aloud, "Wonder how many mages they have."
"None," Aurelia said, her nose wrinkled, "If they had mages, they would have burned their shit before dumping it in a pit. And I wouldn't smell it from all the way over here."
It's what we did, and still do occasionally. There's a certain prestige in being the inventor of the port-a-john though.
"So not the Fereldan Royal Army then," I concluded, "Alistair has lots of mages."
"A local lord's force, probably," Aurelia agreed, "Though how they would keep supplied, I do not know."
That connected something in my subconscious.
"The Templars did though," I said, recalling some intelligence briefings, "They marched to Therinfall Redoubt after the Lord Seeker got into a confrontation with Pentaghast and Trevelyan at Val Royeaux. If they were marching back to Orlais, this would be the quickest way."
Of course, the reality was far less positive for us, but we were ignorant of just what the Templars were up to, and the first we'd know of it was when the sky was... repaired? Not sure if that's the right word for 'the dividing line between reality and chaos being restored'.
A scout rode towards us on a white Dalish courser, past the vanguard company, lance held at rest.
"Imperator, there is a force blocking our way ahead," the scout reported, her horse snorting and catching its breath, "A regiment's worth."
"Templars?" Aurelia asked, brushing over the fact the scout had been giving the information to me.
"No, my lady," the scout replied, "They claim to be the Inquisition."
Aurelia and I exchanged glances.
"It seems Lady Pentaghast has been busy," I sighed, "Very well. Let's go see what they have to say."
We pressed onwards, coming within sight of Redcliffe, its highest in the distance.
Sure enough, at a place where the rocky hills of the Hinterlands to our right created a bottleneck where only the Highway allowed passage, there was a force. They hadn't the time to dig in, but were in the process of tipping over over wagons to act as cover.
Their symbol was the flaming eye of Andraste, stitched on black banners with red and gold thread. Fairly suitable for an organisation calling itself the Inquisition, I thought, but it didn't exactly inspire a lot of hope in me.
Earth had inquisitions once upon a time, religious organisations dedicated to rooting out heresy and apostasy. Their reputations were not merciful or charitable. My impression of the one on Thedas was painted by the organisations of Earth, predisposing me to dealing with them in a certain way.
They certainly didn't seem very threatening from where we were standing, however. They were well armed and armoured, but had none of the frills or symbols of élan I came to expect of professional warriors courtesy of my time in both Orlais and the Marches. They looked like peasants in chainmail, nothing more.
Aurelia was no more impressed than I was.
"Who are these rabble to stand in our way?" she asked me, eyebrow raised, "They seem determined to defy us." She had little experience with the people in this part of the world, only having visited it once before.
"Fereldans," I sighed, "They're the most stubborn people on Earth."
Aurelia smiled widely, containing a laugh only just. I had used the Earth idiom so naturally that I hadn't even noticed until she did.
"Here they come," I said, noticing a small party come forward.
To my surprise, it was a dwarf leading it, on top of a large pony, the sort that looks like it could scale cliffs. She had chainmail with the Inquisition sigil on the front, a composite recurve bow in her hand, a quiver on her hip and another hanging from her saddle on the opposite side. As she got got closer, I could make out orange hair tied in tight braids, and a lot of muscle in the arms.
Our vanguard parted to let them pass, though kept them covered.
"Good afternoon!" she called in a strangely friendly way, stopping about fifteen yards ahead of us, "I'm Lace Harding, chief scout for the Inquisition."
There was a pause, as she looked us over, her eyes seeming to linger on me as if she expected a similar greeting. It came, though not from my lips
"I am Aurelia Tiberia Valentina," said my companion, summoning all authority to her tone, "Propraetor of the Tevinter Imperium, Governor of the Far-Southern Provinces."
The Inquisition's chief of scouts inclined her head in respect, before retrieving a parchment from her saddle bag.
"I have a message from you from Lady-Ambassador Montilyet," Harding continued, before her tone turned to almost an impression of Montilyet's speaking style;
"The Inquisition thanks the Trojan realm for its financial assistance, but cannot permit passage of its army to Haven, due to delicate and ongoing military manoeuvres involving the Templars. We wish to avoid all possible confrontation as we attempt to close the Breach for good."
Naturally, if we showed up at Haven with the Templars around the place, the chance of violence would be high indeed. Not that we cared; defeating the Templars would put us in a very nice position, vis-a-vis the Inquisition.
Aurelia narrowed her eyes. "Your ambassador seems to be operating under false information," she said, very deliberately, "This is a legion of the Tevinter Imperium, and we are not bound for Haven."
"Lady Josephine thought you would say that," Harding replied, crossing her hands over the front handle of her saddle, "She called the allegiance of Troy to the Imperium a 'legal fiction', whatever that means. We know the Archon did not send you."
"On the contrary!" Aurelia declared, "Archon Radonis has ordered by decree that all provincial governors and legati legiones to bring to justice all members of the Venatori cult present within their jurisdiction. Magister Gereon Alexius is a Venatori officer. The South is my jurisdiction."
How seriously each governor took that decree was up to them, of course. Most magisters were perfectly happy to seed chaos in the South, though less so now that it seemed the Tiberii were bringing more of it back into the Imperium, even if it was only in name.
"We're not going to Haven," I added, opening my mouth, "Withdraw your forces to the west and you can stop us there, if you want. We need to get to Redcliffe."
Where there was a nice, deep-water port.
"You could use boats to outflank us," Harding said, catching on, "And everyone wants what the Herald has; the power to close the Fade rifts. You didn't send an army just to deal with some magister."
This one was smart. You could tell that little piece of insight wasn't something she learned by rote too, not a note from the good ambassador. It was her own conclusion.
"We don't need to march on Haven for the Herald's power," I retorted, "We send a lot of gold and silver, taken in battle at the cost of many Trojan lives, to your Inquisition. We assumed the Herald would close our rifts in return."
"The Ambassador told me to thank you again for your money, if it came up," Harding nodded, "But the Herald doesn't trust your motives."
"I'm sure Lady Trevelyan doesn't," Aurelia scoffed, "Considering recent events."
"You did invade her city," Harding shrugged.
"We liberated her city," Aurelia said, "From nobles that abandoned it."
"After it joined a coalition to destroy us," I added, "You reap what you sow. Actually, Ostwick sowed mass murder, so it was very lucky not to reap the same."
"You also invaded Ferelden without provocation," Harding said, her tone turning to ice, "Do you have an excuse for that?"
"Yes, I do," I replied, "But it's not one you would accept. Let's cut through the bullshit."
I thumbed over my shoulder.
"We have the larger force, blackpowder weapons and artillery, mages. You have nothing that can stand against that, except a few Templars, maybe. We already support the Inquisition. There's a clear threat in Redcliffe that someone should handle."
I pointed off towards the Inquisition troops. "You have plenty of reasons to let us pass. Tell us the real reason your leaders do not want us to," I concluded, "There are demons everywhere, these troops should be marching with us, not blocking our way."
Harding's lips twisted and turned, but she remained silent. Clearly I had made a good point. Hell, the demons running around were probably the only reasons the scout was even talking to us at all. She was as proud a Fereldan as any other, dwarf or not.
A thunderclap came from the Ferelden defences; someone had just shot a lightning bolt at someone or something.
"Venatori?" I asked Harding, "Please tell me you left enough troops behind to guard your rear."
"Of course we did," Harding replied, like I had just insulted her intelligence, which I sorta had, "I would imagine our people standing behind the wagons would be turning to face the new threat if it was the Venatori, but what do I know?"
Ignoring her hostility, I listened out for more spells. More thunder, the hiss of Fadefire, or the low-scream of ice... Nothing came to my ear.
Instead, a new player entered the game.
It was a Tevinter mage, that much was clear from his clothing style and the staff he was carrying. A rich one too; he appeared to be wearing white-grey silk over leather armour and he was on top of a very fine black destrier, one that reminded me of Fritz actually.
Like Tam's warhorse on our escape from Halamshiral, it was weighed down with packs, presumably everything its owner needed to survive Ferelden. I felt a wave of nostalgia take me away from the place, as often happened in those years; the yearning for the simplicity of that first journey, falling for Julie and Tam, befriending Ciara and Armen.
As he rode closer, slowly as my own troops had put him in their sights, I could see he was handsome. Handsomer than me certainly. Chiseled jawline, flowing black hair, a well-maintained and curled black moustache... The only real flaw I could detect with the man was the bags under his eyes. He clearly wasn't getting enough sleep.
"Pavus," Aurelia hissed under her breath, "Vishante kaffas!"
Didn't need Google Translate to figure out that was not a polite phrase.
"You know this guy?" I asked.
"Know him? He's a firm opponent of my family's interests!" Aurelia snarled, "And even more of a soft-hearted lunatic than Alexius was. One of Tilani's associates. All the worse, as he has Outlander blood too, even if it is only a thimble-full's worth." Whoever this Tilani was, they were firmly on the Tiberian shitlist... As was the man riding towards us.
Harding's eyes shifted towards us without her head moving, either wondering what 'Outlander blood' meant or whether we'd give up all the juicy details right then and there. No doubt the Tiberii's true interest in Troy and myself was something of a mystery to the Inquisition.
"Don't ask," I said to the chief scout. Aurelia provided a glare in addition, which Harding avoided but gave no other sign of acquiescence. She merely frowned, before urging her pony alongside me and turning it around, to greet the newcomer.
"He doesn't have any of our traits, but he is still the result of some very careful breeding," Aurelia continued, "Quite powerful. Probably could've been Archon in a couple of decades if he wasn't in favour of abandoning the destiny of the Imperium." She had no idea how right she was there.
I rolled my eyes, both unafraid of this Pavus and unimpressed with Tevinter ambition. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
The man himself finally joined us, speaking to me first.
"Do I have the pleasure of addressing Samuel Hunt, Marquis de la Fayette?" he said, "Dorian Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?"
His accent was upper class English, from my Earthling perspective, though apparently the dwarves of Minrathous all sound like that and it was from them that the Tevinters learned the Common Tongue. My first thought is that this guy must be a real hit with the ladies, but then, I didn't know anything about him.
I opened my mouth to say hello back, but I wasn't quick enough on the draw.
"Altus Pavus!" Aurelia started, "You will address me first, as befits my station as propraetor. My standards are clearly visible." Her personal standard bearer shook the dragon banner behind her to emphasize its existence.
Dorian eyed her, before bowing in the saddle with his hand across his chest. The action was exaggerated, and clearly not sincere.
"Apologies, Lady Tiberia, how rude of me," he said, sitting up again, "I must have been mistaken when I thought this was the Marquis' army, not yours. The dragon banners don't hide the gaatlok weaponry very well, and it surely was not you who invented them."
My eyes widened at his attitude. The two Tevinters really did know each other, to some extent, and he must have been a brave man to speak to her like that.
"It is our army," Aurelia insisted, "Or did you not hear of my wedding? Surely a relief for you, given that it has gotten my family out of Minrathous most of the time. No doubt your father is breathing easier." Dorian winced, like he had just been struck. Raw nerve there.
I listened with interest, keeping my face studiously neutral. This was the first time I had heard of any discord between Aurelia and her father. Evidently the proposal to marry me instead was something of a reconciliation moment for them.
The Altus went back on the attack quickly.
"I heard, but I also heard the details," Dorian said flatly, "You share him, with an Empress no less. I must admit, the Orlesian flexibility on such matters is intriguing to me, but I am surprised you stooped to second place. Then again, you Tiberii have always played second fiddle in the Imperium."
Aurelia's barriers came swirling up around her and her mount like a tornado at once, wiping the smirk away. Bellona grunted beneath me, and side stepped away from her. Always was an intelligent horse, and I was thankful for the action.
Mr. Pavus had pushed the big red button. No one questioned Aurelia's position at the very top of any given hierarchy. Not any more. Given the sudden panic in his eyes on seeing it, followed by the conscious summoning of his own less impressive magical defences, I suppose he didn't know about or didn't believe in the new power that Aurelia possessed.
"I am not what I was, Altus Pavus," Aurelia said, her voice resonating slightly with power, "You would do well to note it."
The Altus raised his palms slightly, as if that would help.
"Yes, I can see that," Dorian grimaced, "It seems that dismissing the rumours about your family as propaganda was a mistake. It does make me wonder if everything else is true."
He looked to me, examining me anew. He picked out my firelance quickly, brow furrowing slightly as he did. The question of my origin had clearly been reopened for him.
Aurelia smiled triumphantly, aiming her honey-coloured irises at me as if to say 'See?'.
"Alright, that's enough," I growled, "None of us are here so you two can fight over dynastic issues."
It seems my Tevinter bride was in a good mood now, as she dismissed her magic first. Dorian followed suit quickly.
"Agreed," Harding said, just as harshly, "Lord Pavus, I was quite sure I ordered you to remain at the picket line outside the main gate."
"What can I say, I got bored trying to stop Alexius on my own," Dorian replied flippantly, "And it isn't every day you get to meet someone from another world. Forgive me."
That sounded distinctly like good news to my ear, though the possibility that he was a Venatori agent too was not zero.
But mention of my origins had sparked Harding to stare at me, expectantly. She was probably aware of the tale by now, most people were. Fatigued with the idea of having to tell it again, I simply gave her a small nod of confirmation. Her eyes went as wide as oranges.
"Mister Pavus, we're here to stop Magister Alexius," I said, trying to keep us on-point, "I don't suppose you could help me convince Lady Harding here to let our army through to do just that."
Dorian shook his head. "Unfortunately, I haven't had much luck with the Inquisition either," he said, "Lady Pentaghast and the Herald met with the free mages, but then they went off to the east to bring the Templars back. They came back but marched straight past the town. Now it's too late."
"What do you mean, too late?" Aurelia asked, "Has Alexius fled?"
"No, he is still holed up in Redcliffe Castle," Dorian replied, "But most of the legion he brought and the indentured mages that pledged themselves to him have already left by ship. Did so before the Templars came past."
"The free mages pledged themselves to him?" Aurelia said, not believing her ears, "They joined the Venatori?"
"They had no choice," Dorian replied, bitterly, "Alexius saved them when the sky tore open, showed up with an entire legion just as it was happening. The Templars were running amok, blaming the mages for it. It was accept his offer of indenture or be killed."
Temporary slavery to a magister for ten years was how foreign mages could become Tevinter citizens, though the terms were lighter than true slaves.
Non-Trojans often compare this to our own requirement for military service for three years as a requirement for citizenship, and although I support a civilian counterpart to military conscription, I am totally against dropping the service requirement entirely. It is what makes Troy unique. Individual liberty and collective responsibility for the defence of that liberty.
"How is that possible, even if he was involved with the Breach?" I said to Aurelia, "Showing up with troops just in time to stop the Templars?"
"Just in time is an apt turn of phrase in this case," Dorian agreed, "Alexius used magic to make it happen. If Lady Harding will agree to it, I can show you."
The chief scout glanced at the Tevinters, then down the road at our column of troops. There was some calculation going on, but the exact equation was unknown to us. There were multiple looks at Aurelia, as if she'd turn into a dragon and bite someone's head off.
"Just the Marquis and Lord Pavus," Harding said, "The propraetor and the army stays here. And I'll accompany you." She had made a face when using the Teveno-Latin word in that statement, like she had bitten into a sour apple.
"This is acceptable," Aurelia replied, "Sam, keep in contact by radio."
Her tone implying that if I didn't keep in touch occasionally, she'd annihilate the Inquisition force. I made a mental note to make sure I did do radio checks with her... I had been dead serious when I said the Inquisition ought to be marching with us, not against us.
"Gotcha," I responded, "Well then, Mr. Pavus, shall we get going?"
The Altus and I rode through the Inquisition defences with Scout Harding behind us. The troops more or less ignoring us, though a couple spat as we passed. A Tevinter and a Trojan, not popular guys in Ferelden. I wasn't overly offended.
I did take careful note of the enemy positions though. They had gone for defence in depth. There were four layers of tipped wagons, and a bunch of people hiding in rocky gullies with crossbows. Reflecting on this, I was a little thankful we didn't have to storm the position after all, though the possibility of needing to later still remained.
When we cleared the Inquisition position, we trotted along at a casual enough pace, easily capable of talking. The Imperial Highway was easily wide enough for all three of us to ride side-by-side, and since we were still some way off of Redcliffe, it was fairly natural to fall into conversation.
One thing in particular was bothering me, having seen the Inquisition troops.
"Where's the Arl of Redcliffe?" I asked, "I would've thought Teagan would be out here, telling me I couldn't come within twenty miles of his precious town."
I probably would've brought Julie back for the occasion, just to see how quickly I could get his head to explode.
"He rode for Denerim weeks ago," Dorian replied, "He didn't have enough troops to defend the mages, and definitely not enough to tell Alexius to leave."
"Teagan tried anyway," Harding said, "Planned to take Alexius prisoner, but the magister saw it coming and took measures. Teagan walked into a trap and was given the choice to leave or 'increase tensions'. King Alistair is putting together a force to retake the castle, last I heard."
A flash of anger burned my eyes. "That information would've been useful a little earlier," I said through my teeth.
"You didn't ask," Harding shrugged, "Besides, it's not my job to keep you informed."
I couldn't deny that, though the wish to grind my teeth to bits was fairly overwhelming, because why bother telling me at all if it wasn't your job?
Instead, I radioed back to Aurelia the news that the Fereldan Royal Army might be approaching from the East at any moment, and to deploy our mounted scouts back to Lothering to give us plenty of warning. Dorian looked at me with interest as I did so, leaning over towards me a little, trying to catch Aurelia's response to me, which was more ladylike than I thought it would be.
"You really are from another world, aren't you?" Dorian said with some amazement, "How am I supposed to react to that... I could ask questions all day and still not know everything. How did even you get here?"
Exasperated but with some time to kill, I told him the story, including about the helicopter. He listened with interest... as did Harding, while pretending badly not to.
"Maker, that is bizarre," Dorian said, after I finished, "Do you have any idea what is required to breach the Veil twice? The sort of mana efficiency you would need? And the existence of other worlds was purely theoretical as far as I knew. There are many magisters who would love to get their hands on you, Marquis, if they had any idea what you really were."
Dorian Pavus, unlike Aurelia, was in fact a magical theorist. Not that he would know how to bring people across worlds, that secret went out with the original Tiberia, two thousand years ago.
"They would regret it," I replied, "Besides, a magister already has."
"Tiberia is not a magister," Dorian sighed, like he had arguments about this before, "Her father is, her grandfather is, aunts and uncles... Not every Tevinter mage is one."
A distinction I really didn't care about.
"I was referring to her grandfather," I said, "Titus Tiberius Pansa. He arranged our marriage."
The Altus nodded knowingly.
"I'm sure he did," Dorian said, "Tell me, did he show up at an hour of need? Ever so conveniently? Almost like Alexius did here?"
Ol' Tiberius would not have liked that comparison.
"He did," I said, "Don't tell me that story is common knowledge in Tevinter?"
The Altus shook his head.
"Classic Tiberian move," Dorian continued, "They've been doing that for centuries. They have it all worked out."
I awaited the explanation, which came rapidly, the man seemingly not needing to take a breath.
"They identify some person they want to add to their dynasty's bloodline, discover when their enemies are going to attack them or provoke such an attack, then ride to the rescue. Everyone is grateful, the dowries can be negotiated in the Tiberian favour and the happy couple get a good story to tell their children."
It was very interesting to hear that Tiberius Senior's playbook wasn't his own, but was rather a very old one.
"That's pretty damn smart," I said, "Explains why their own family seems close."
"Oh that's not the half of it," Dorian laughed, "They actually believe that spouses should try to love each other, something to do with their founder. They fuss over compatible personalities, use spies to discover information about the temperament of marriage candidates. Everyone else regards them as slightly crazy. That entire dynasty is an anomaly."
Well, that explained Valentine's disappointment in me not loving Aurelia all of a sudden.
He turned in the saddle towards me and kept on going. Dorian is an amusing guy, but Jesus does he love to hear himself talk. Luckily for the rest of us, what he says is usually witty or interesting.
"Did you know they are probably the most powerful single family in the entire Imperium? Yet they have never had a single Archon in two thousand years. Despite having the largest number of seats in the Magisterium of any family, they always support someone else."
This was a rule put in place by the first Tiberia, allegedly, as rulership would have drawn attention of a sort that was detrimental to the family. Maintaining a coherent dynasty was more beneficial than direct rule, because magic was the true source of power anyway.
"They are the strictest about bloodlines too, yet are careful to avoid inbreeding. They often wed fourth and fifth cousins to one another... and where magical power is concerned, it seems to work."
The remains of the Outlander traits had been carefully shepherded, but as the bloodlines had been scattered by the First Blight, they were not the walking nukes that Aurelia was.
"They are supremacists that believe that Tevinter is destined to rule the world, they control one of the three field armies of the Imperium, yet they have often opposed the more stupid military adventures proposed by armchair generals in Minrathous."
This was just military strategy at work. Fighting on multiple fronts or where logistics doesn't allow is common sense. As guarantors and commanders of the Western legions, the Tiberii would have had such considerations at the front of their mind when any military proposal came forward.
And since they were so powerful politically, they could speak their minds about it without suffering backlash about cowardice. Two thousand years of service can't be argued with.
"They had possibly the largest slave estates in the world, yet they had a reputation of being the kindest masters... and now, out of the Void, they've freed them all. At the drop of the hat. I'm not sure whether to be impressed or terrified that they're wealthy enough to sustain such a loss."
"That last bit was my doing, it was Aurelia's dowry," I interrupted, "In fact, most of the troops with me here are ex-slaves from Treverorum."
The Altus nodded sagely.
"Explains why they were looking at me like I had just shat on their tongues," Dorian guffawed, "No doubt the Tiberii claim that all the other magisters are terrible masters, just like all the masters say the same about every other. The reality? Who knows. It's not like anyone has asked the slaves."
"Don't think slaves would answer honestly anyway," Harding asserted, correctly, "They would probably see it as a trick question."
"Indeed, and some magisters do use such tricks to weed out troublemakers," Dorian said, "The punishments for those found wanting are harsh beyond your Southern imaginings."
"I take it you don't own slaves?" I asked, casually, "Or do I have to shoot you as a slaver?"
Dorian shut up and kept riding, pretty much confirming that I did need to shoot him.
Given how much I got to know Dorian Pavus, I now regret it.
"My family owns slaves, I don't," he admitted, "But I don't really see it as different to being at the bottom of the societal pile down here. In Orlais or Ferelden, the destitute have no escape, they just waste away in alienages or slums. In Tevinter, you can sell yourself to someone for a bag of gold, a roof over your head and three meals a day. You can have a future."
Well, there was some rationalisation if ever I heard it. There was something about the way he said it that told me he did not quite believe the rationale fully himself.
"A future in chains is barely more of one than death," I said, "There are better ways to relieve poverty."
"If there are, I haven't seen them," Dorian replied cautiously, "Though I have seen much since coming South. It is strange, not seeing people collared and chained in the streets or fields. It does bring a certain dignity, though the sight of people starving in the fields or huddled in Redcliffe certainly does not. Slavery couldn't save them from the demons."
"I'll have to take you to meet our High-Chancellor," I replied, "She has plenty of ideas that are better than slavery."
Dorian seemed to cheer up at that suggestion.
"The infamous Trojans under the thumb of the Tiberians, meeting the pariah of House Pavus," he said, "Oh, that would cause quite a stir in the Magisterium. Tiberia would never allow it!"
I itched, wanting to tell him that Aurelia Tiberia Valentina was not in fact the highest power in our land, but Harding was still right there... and speaking the truth aloud would've destroyed our legal cover as 'Tevinter' troops rather than Trojan ones.
"I'm sure I could convince her," I replied carefully, "How far to where we're going?"
I noticed we were passing by the gate of Redcliffe that I had ordered the Free Army to bombard and storm the year before. It had been rebuilt, with far stouter stones and with angled sections. An attempt to better resist cannonfire in the future, I imagined, though how effective it would be, I wasn't sure.
"Just around the next bend," Dorian said, "There's a hellgate out of the way nearby that the Herald didn't close yet."
"So she can close them?" I asked, "That wasn't some bullshit dreamed up to gather political support?"
"Oh no, she very much can," Dorian said, "I watched her close one inside the Redcliffe chantry chapel myself. Not sure I believe Andraste herself was seen to deliver her out of the Fade and that nonsense, but the Maker clearly sent her to deal with this."
This was sour news. My own reputation as being Maker-sent and anathema to demons was as potent an idea as the 'Herald' was. The emergence of a rival in this matter was a threat to our state; if two chosen ones are at odds, who do the faithful believe?
"What makes you say that?" I asked, "That she was Maker sent, I mean."
"There are too many coincidences involved," Dorian replied, "She was at the Conclave, survived it, and emerged with the exact correct tool to deal with tears in reality. Oh, and the Hands of the Divine were on hand to assist her with the logistics of building an organisation to best utilise this power."
That was pretty convincing, I thought, though it was very far from what I wanted to hear. Not least from someone who should've been more loyal to the Northern Chantry under the Black Divine.
"It is a convenient set of factors," I conceded, "The Inquisition have made a similar argument in their letters."
"That Montilyet does have a way with words, doesn't she?" Dorian smiled, "You can add her to the list of conveniences too, I suppose. Ah, here we are."
We came around a corner created by a large rounded cliff, one we had used as an artillery position the last time we were there if I recall correctly, off the road. Sure enough, there hung a hellgate, a flashing green scar in the air. There seemed to be glowing bubbles of Fade energy floating around in it too, large enough to swallow half a squad.
I did a quick radio check with Aurelia, informing her we had reached our destination, before examining what was in front of me.
The demons within its zone were nasty, with elongated limbs, talons and an octopus head not entirely unlike the Fear demons we had encountered elsewhere. We came to a stop just outside the zone, and I fetched a booklet that I had tucked under my Kevlar, flicking through it to the right entry.
"Terror demons," I read aloud, "Lesser fear demons that feed on fleeting or temporary fears, unlike greater fear demons, which feed on deep set fears."
"Yes, they are annoying little shits," Dorian said, "Like jumping out at you. But they're not what you're here for. See the bubbles?"
"Yeah?" I asked.
Dorian proceeded to dismount. He grabbed a stone off the ground and walked right up to the very edge of the hellgate zone. The Terror demons began lumbering towards him, limping like they had hurt their knees or something. I raised my firelance, to clear the way, but the Altus did something that stopped me dead.
He threw the stone into the nearest bubble... and it took longer than it should have to land on the ground. As soon as it had entered the glowing translucent sphere, the little rock had slowed down.
Intrigued and wanting to know more, I lowered my firelance, ignoring the growing group of demons reaching the edge of the zone staring at us. Why would the stone have slowed?
"What is that?" I asked Dorian, "Is it a liquid inside those bubbles or something?" As magical attacks went, that would've pretty terrifying; creating a realm which people couldn't breath in or move out of easily.
"Time is slowed in them," Harding answered from behind, "All the rifts in this area change the passage of time around them."
The implications of that were absolutely stunning.
"Alexius can control time?!" I said, "You have got to be kidding me!"
"It's no joke, he was working on time travel magic for years," Dorian replied, "I was helping him in fact, but we never got it to work while I was his apprentice. It seems the Venatori gave him the resources to perfect some form of it."
"How on Earth do you propose we fight that?" I asked, "Couldn't he just go back in time and kill us in our sleep or something, before we know he's a threat?"
"It's a little more complicated than that," Dorian said, "You can only really move to times and places where there are great confluences of arcane power. The Veil is usually too strong otherwise. That's the theory anyway."
"A battle between the free mages and Templars would definitely count as a confluence of arcane power," I mused, "Must've been chaos, when the hellgates opened."
My use of the term 'hellgate' provoked some confusion, but wasn't commented on.
"I was rather hoping another rumour about you was true," Dorian said, "Is it true that you can walk through magic like it's nothing?"
"Yep," I said, popping the 'p', "Want me to show you?"
"By all means," Dorian replied gladly, gesturing with an open palm to the hellgate.
Time to show off.
I slung my firelance again, pulled the cavalry-sabre Louise had gifted to me out of its scabbard. It would've been cheating.
Ready to go, I kicked Bellona's sides with my heels. Spurred to the charge, she sprinted forward with me in the saddle, and I aimed her at the terror demons directly. Being the calmest horse in the history of horses, she obeyed without any issue.
The Terror demons gurgled, as if unsure what the hell I was doing, but didn't disperse.
So, it was some surprise to them when Bellona and I slammed into the middle of their cluster, bursting those we touched like water ballons. The more physical force I applied to a demon, the more comprehensive their breakdown was... and a charging horse and rider has a lot of force behind them.
I also cut one of the demons in half as I passed, slicing diagonally down through the collar bone to below where the ribs would be on a human.
The speed of the charge carried us right under the hellgate itself before I could get Bellona to stop and turn for the next charge... but when I did, the terror demons were gone. Confused, I brought my horse to a halt, trying to figure out where the things had went.
For half a minute, it just seemed like they were gone. Laughter bubbled up in me, as I thought I had seen to the whole bunch of them... until four burst up from the ground to either side. Terror demons, it seems, can move through the Fade to teleport short distances.
Even if they couldn't hurt me, the fiends' arrival was sudden enough to scare me, my heart racing hard enough for me to feel it inside my skull... And they were already close enough to strike.
Two pairs of talons came at me from each side, easily able to carve nasty wounds into anyone else. Instead, I was jostled in the saddle as claws and the forearms they were attached to dissolved on contact with both myself and Bellona.
Barely able to stay in the saddle as Bellona finally became unnerved, I swung the sabre wildly around my head and into the best target to my right, decapitating it nicely, spikes of Fade energy bursting from the neck where blood should have.
The horse followed up by rearing up and kicking with her back legs, seeing to a fifth demon that I hadn't noticed directly behind us until it screeched out of existence.
Another swipe cleared the way to the right, and I nudged Bellona in that direction, as the remaining demons backed off, stumbling and holding the stumps of their arms in front of them. I traced a slow circle around to get the best line of attack, careful to avoid the time-bubbles, and then charged once more.
The demons were in no way ready to resist. Too slow to dodge, too injured to defend themselves, the hooves of Bellona and my sabre sent them back to the Fade broken. I thoroughly enjoyed it, I didn't think demons had it in them to screw with me and I hated them all the more for proving me wrong.
Breathing heavily, Bellona even more so, we trotted back to Dorian and Harding. They both looked suitably impressed, sending me smirking with somewhat irrational pride. Though in retrospect, I think Louise would've been highly critical of my performance as a cavalryman.
"Flaming nugshit!" Harding declared, looking me over, "You don't have a scratch on you!"
"That's sorta the point," I said, slightly breathlessly, "I presume this confirms the rumours?"
Dorian's face was stern. "It more than confirms them," he said, "You rode through one of the time distortions. It didn't slow you, and it didn't speed you up."
My head tilted, not sure I had. I couldn't recall seeing any bubble as I had moved, though I supposed it was possible there had been one directly behind the terror demons that I hadn't seen.
"And?" I asked, "Magic is magic. Not even blood magic can touch me."
"And it means we need to get you into Redcliffe as soon as possible," Dorian said, turning to Harding, "I know Lady Pentaghast doesn't want you to waste troops on the castle, but you just saw what I saw. Why not let him and his troops handle Alexius? You'll need to assault the place anyway, eventually."
Pleasantly surprised that he was now pushing for that, I gave him a thumbs up, thanking him for rowing in to help us.
Harding bit her lip in thought. "I'm not permitted to let you near Haven," she said, "Letting you into Redcliffe is letting you closer."
"There has to be something you can do," Dorian pressed, "Otherwise you'll be killing a lot more people when Alexius decides to leave."
"You could take all the boats," I suggested, "Move them north, break them, burn them, whatever. Without them, you can pick anywhere else to block us moving to Haven without issue."
"The alternative is fighting him," Dorian added, pointing at me, "I certainly wouldn't want to after the display he just gave us. I might be a mage, but he didn't even use that black thing, which I'm sure is a weapon." He was referring to the Earth firelance on my back.
Harding scratched the back of her head, thinking about it.
"Taking the boats away could work," she said, "I'll have to send a raven to Haven for permission."
"Then do it," I said, "I'd rather not start a war with the Inquisition."
I'd much rather have them at my beck and call without having to fight, for them to tremble at the thundering of our cannon, for our armies to march once more into the Dales, for the Inquisition to acknowledge they needed us and for the world to allow our existence.
The Hands of the Divine would allow our request to remove Alexius and the Venatori, but would recall Harding and her troops entirely. We would receive no help in the endeavour at all.
Probably just as well, because things got truly weird.