Chapter Ninety-Four: The Chargers
Negotiations between the Inquisition, Ferelden and our Republic started preliminary sessions as soon as possible, but only really kicked off when Queen Anora arrived. It took her a week to get to Skyhold, during which time we redeployed my brigade back to Troy, including myself. In place of the armed Avvars and freedmen was a positive army of representatives, all going back and forth through the eluvian.
Both Telmessos arrived from Markham City via the newly-cut road over the Vimmark Tail-Hills, to represent the League of Ansburg. It seems the Marchers didn't want Valle speaking for them, regardless of how closely we were aligned and how entirely they were at our mercy. Aristander and Ianthe were both smart enough not to openly defy the will of the Republic, so it was tolerated.
My own drinks with Dorian and Barris had to be postponed. Instead, a rather dour Chantry brother returned with me to Troy to see Nightingale and Tethras, our ones. He looked at me like I was the Devil. I saw him for what he was too; a boring functionary who was considered reliable enough to report back the status of two people and expendable enough to lose too.
Once Anora had arrived, the true negotiations began. The High-Chancellor herself went to Skyhold.
After the first day, something must have been agreed, because once more I was ordered away from my kids and back to the fortress, with a squad each from the Republican Guard, Rangers, Highlanders, Grenadiers, Dragoons etc, as well as a company from the Logistics Corp.
The former was there ostensibly for security, but I think the true purpose was to give the Inquisition a look at the scary Libertarian maniacs and start inoculating the religious fanatics to our presence. Though perhaps that is too harsh a description of our hosts, given that many in Troy had a fanatical devotion to the idea of myself as Andraste's Chosen, to the Republic itself, or most commonly, to both.
The latter were there to begin rebuilding work on Skyhold, bringing along many of our standard-template prefabricated houses. Shacks by my standards, but decent enough housing by commoner Thedosian ones of the time. Materials for patching up the existing structures also came in. Val Halla had no shortage of lumber.
I was there more or less so I could use the force of my absolute authority to maintain order. The Chancellor's orders were very clear on that; people starting shit on our side were to be handled. I suspect demonstrations of my anti-magical ability were also an idea, but they were not arranged and none of the Inquisition's mages seemed willing to ask.
Of course, I knew my presence would create other problems for maintaining order and I was not incorrect in that assessment.
So, with my orders in hand, I reported to Skyhold via a direct eluvian connection from Troy. We did not want the Inquisition to have access to the Crossroads even if they managed to get control of the one on their end.
With me went Louise de Villars, Blondie herself. I ordered her addition more or less so I could have assistance with the locals, because she was the highest noble we had. If anyone was going to be able to mediate disputes in an environment where anyone might be a blue-blooded idiot, it would be her.
She was a baroness by right. She was a chevalier, having the physique, the armour and the weapons to prove it. She was also the newly appointed Provost-Marshal, a new position that put her on par with myself or Soprano and saw her overseeing matters of justice in the Army. She earned that post because Trojans knew her to be a no-bullshit officer, even more so than Soprano or Mike. The Inquisition would learn the same if necessary.
And she brought along her family heirlooms for pure intimidation factor; the full faced silver-inlaid skull mask attached to a cavalry helmet with matching decoration, a silverite longsword and a curved silverite cavalry sabre, both with wolf-head pommels in some sort of ivory. Her blonde hair was tied into a single large braid that hung from underneath it onto the front of her shoulder, the only concession to seeming like an ordinary human being she was prepared to make.
The eluvian at Skyhold had been moved to the bottom of one of the towers, under heavy guard. Once we got out of the structure, which had only a single lantern to light it, we stepped out to find Dorian and Barris waiting for us.
"Ah, there you are," Dorian said, "We were beginning to worry they weren't coming."
"Things must be going well if they're letting me back in here," I joked, shaking the man's hand again, "May I introduce Lady Louise de Villars, la Baronne des Grandes-Collines."
I turned to Blondie. "This is Dorian Pavus, a Tevinter Altus."
"Pleasure to meet you," Louise said shortly, not really meaning it and no big fan of Tevinter mages herself. Her mask quickly swivelled to Barris, however. "Knight-Commander, it is good to see you well after so long. All of us had no idea how your return to the Templars would be taken."
"I was interrogated, gently, about Troy at length," Barris conceded, "I think the demon posing as the Lord Seeker was glad to have a source of information about you. He quickly decided to give you a wide berth, though I hear there was a Knight-Divine in the Marches who overrode that order in favour of supporting Starkhaven's war."
He was referring to the Templar who had been at Prince Vael's side at the ceasefire negotiations, the pragmatic one anyway.
"I'm sure that was unpleasant," I said, "Speaking of which, I'm starving and could use a drink. It's about time for lunch. I hear you have a tavern."
"A surprisingly good one considering its location," Dorian agreed, "Someone managed to get a shipment of ales, wines and spirits up here the day after you left."
"And the bard survived Haven," Barris added with a grin, "So you have something to listen to in the evenings."
"Bard?" Louise asked, hostility rising in her tone, "What bard?" Her hand went to her longsword. No doubt keeping in mind the memory of bards and Crows killing her uncle with most of the high nobility in the Eastern Dales too.
"A minstrel bard," Dorian said quickly, hands out to calm her down, "Not a bard bard. A singing, lute strumming bard... At least I think so. She hasn't killed anyone yet, and no one has died mysteriously."
Barris scratched his chin. "She doesn't snoop around or try to sleep with people either," he said, "I think we're safe."
"Or so you think," Louise said, in a voice that let us hear the frown on her face, "Very well. It will be an hour or two before the troops arrive. Lead on, I have not eaten yet either." She took her hand away from her weapon and gestured to the courtyard behind.
The Knight-Commander led the way, past some novice templars who stared at us instead of swinging their swords at the wooden dummies. The elder in charge of them snapped off a command for them to resume at once, which they obeyed instantly, after which he gave us a nod in greeting. Not one of the ones who hated me on ideological grounds, then.
It turns out the tavern was one of the buildings adjoining both the wall and the main courtyard, where the Templars had stood in ranks on my last visit.
The tents were up again now, filling most of the space but leaving a corridor or two between the mess hall, the tavern and the stairs to the throne hall. People were resting or cooking, it was their lunch time too and most didn't have the coin to go to the tavern for both lunch and dinner. I was impressed with their resilience.
We entered the tavern. It was more or less like many taverns out there. A three floor building, with wooden supports, floors and furniture, smelling vaguely like stale alcohol and cooked meat. It was however, not empty.
On the ground floor behind the stairs in a large alcove, the Iron Bull was sitting with his Chargers. I did not recognise all of them, some of those that had been with us in the fight against the eluvians were missing and there were new faces to replace them. Hardly surprising, mercenaries took combat losses like anyone. They were chatting away to each other like they didn't have a care in the world.
On the middle floor, the she-elf from the Inquisitor's retinue was hanging her legs and poking her torso through the wooden railing, humming to herself and whittling the bark off a long stick, the shavings falling to the ground floor. She had blonde hair that looked like it was cut with a knife, and she was wearing bright yellow breeches with a red silk tunic... Pretty expensive looking stuff actually, but then, she didn't have any shoes on.
The bartender was a dwarf, and instead of noticing us first, noticing the little bits of wood falling instead.
"Sera!" he called, "I don't care if the Inquisitor is your friend, make your arrows outside!"
The she-elf giggled to herself, stopping the whittling and grabbing a mug of some drink from behind her. "You know you love me really, Cabot," she shouted down, "Best be careful though, you've got big hats afoot." She must have had no desire to speak to we big hats, because she withdrew to a room on the middle floor and closed the door.
The dwarf muttered something foul, before appearing from behind his counter. We moved into the middle of the room to meet him.
"Hello Cabot," Barris said, too politely to be serious, "Don't suppose you have anything other than stale bread to eat."
The man was unperturbed."Oh I'm sure I can arrange a tasty wooden plank if you'd like," the bartender replied, a shit-eating grin on his face, "We cooked the last of the meat this morning. Though given the illustrious company, I suppose the last of the cheese to compliment the bread will have to do."
He eyed Louise in particular, and I felt a little triumphant that her presence was more distracting than my own. What I should have been thinking about was how it was all a sign of the times to come.
"Thanks," Barris said in reply, "We'll take four ales too. Unless Lady de Villars would prefer wine?" Because she was Orlesian.
"Ale will suffice," Blondie stated flatly, "After the last time I was here, I do not want to know what passes as wine in Ferelden." Certainly nothing you're shout 'Glory to Orlais!' for anyway, unless it was from Amaranthine Arling.
"Well la-dee-dah, your Radiance!" Cabot joked, before slapping the countertop, "Wait here. I've got no waiting staff, so you can carry your own orders."
We did as we were told, hanging around while the dwarf rummaged around in the back room, probably to retrieve the cheese from its hiding place. We had given the Inquisition a shipment of food, but it wasn't a whole lot. No one had anything to spare in that regard, though the final harvest in the Minanter Valley was proceeding now that the demon problem had been contained.
I chatted with Dorian and Barris about something I can't quite remember, something to do with mage-templar relations within the Inquisition. Only notable thing I recall was that Vivienne had been the one to bring them together in the spirit of cooperation, an act that would have longstanding consequences for the continent. It was impressive however, and I thought as much at the time.
I ignored the Iron Bull, turning my back on his group... but Louise had other ideas. From behind her Skull Mask, I could see her blue eyes locked onto the Chargers, barely blinking. She was also bolt upright, ready to use her weapon at the drop of a hat. This was not merely a precaution. The Qunari attack on Troy via Hercinia had poisoned public opinion against the Qun, on account of it being perhaps the most costly battle we had fought thus far.
Louise had lost friends and old comrades. Her stare was filled with hatred, though only I could see it being as close as I was. To others, it looked like extreme, bizarre interest. By the time Cabot had found the food and was laying it on on square trays rather than plates, the Chargers had noticed her too.
"What are you looking at, Chevalier?!" came a shout from across the room... in Tevinter accented Common no less. I didn't have time to process that fact though.
Oh fuck, I thought, here we go.
Louise immediately took a step forward, and I grabbed her arm gently to forestall a duel to the death. That didn't have the effect I wanted though.
"Traitors and puppets," Louise sneered back, "That is who I am looking at."
A clatter of chairs being shoved over sounded as their occupants left them in a hurry. I was almost afraid to escalate things by turning around and giving them any sort of attention, but it would've been stupid to ignore the situation. When I did turn, I found half the Chargers standing in the middle of the room, in a line abreast, ready for a fight but unarmed.
They were an interesting bunch of humans, elves and dwarves, led by a man of average height and a wiry build in a padded jerkin of the sort you wear under plate armour. The side of his head was shaved in a particular way while the top was merely cut and combed. That last part is why I recognised him as the Iron Bull's lieutenant at once.
"Who are you to call us traitors, chevalier?" the lieutenant said, "You know nothing about us."
"You are not worthy of knowing my name, do not worry about it," Louise intoned haughtily, placing a hand pointedly on the grip of her longsword again, "Your leader is a Qunari spy and saboteur, which makes you traitors or morons. It is wise to watch you closely." Full blown chevalier arrogance of the sort Blondie only reserved for people she despised.
The lieutenant's eyes widened quickly in panic. He must have known the Bull was with the Ben Hassrath, but he recovered well nonetheless, using the most logical argument he could have come up with.
"I see, so every Qunari is working for the Qun?" the lieutenant barrelled back mockingly, "Isn't your Empress a Qunari? Is she a traitor and a puppet too?" He was not a good enough liar to pull off that misdirect, or maybe I had been hanging around the Tiberii too long.
But there wasn't any time to dwell on that, because the monsieur had pushed Blondie's big red button.
Her longsword flew out of its scabbard and she flourished it in an arc over her head as she advanced on him, before aiming the point right at the lieutenant's heart, barely an inch away from his chest.
"You dare insult our Empress?" Louise said slowly, in a dread tone that would've put the shit up anyone, "You, a traitorous dog who would sell out this continent to tyranny and zealotry for coin?"
Note, dear reader, that I myself was not particularly offended by the ridiculous redirect at the expense of Tam's honour. Mainly because it was so absurd as to be funny. But chevalier standards of honour are … irrational.
"If you're going to fight, get out of my tavern," Cabot grumbled from behind. The absolute idiot, I thought, any suggestion of fighting was the last thing we needed.
"Shut your mouth," I said quietly but will all due menace. The bartender slunk away into the backroom, leaving our food and drink behind. Good thing too.
Ignoring the extremely deadly blade in front of him, the lieutenant slowly broke out laughing... though her comrades were as silent and still as statues in a crypt. "Is this the famed courage of chevaliers?!" he roared back, "Threaten to kill an unarmed man for turning your own argument against you? Can't work with your fists?" The guy held up a clenched fist towards her.
"If it offends you so much, you may demand satisfaction," Louise replied, "Or are you willing to display the famed cowardice of mercenaries?"
That seemed to be the lieutenant's red button, and his face flushed the same colour with rage. "I think that's a great idea, chevalier," he said, "Blades. Outside. Now."
On hearing that, Dorian whispered something furiously into Barris' ear, but got only a forlorn shake of the head in response. I knew exactly what that meant; the Knight-Commander had been asked to not interfere in any dispute involving Trojans, most likely by Trevelyan.
In the mean time, Louise had lowered her sword. "Traditionally, the weapons used would be my choice," she said, "But I will be happy to kill you with my blade, since you insist." She must've thought she had an extreme advantage in that department, and was probably right.
Deciding that this was now more than just blowing off steam, I decided to intervene. The last thing I needed was one of our generals fighting a duel to the death, it would undermine our negotiating position to kill someone, even if it was just a mercenary.
On top of that, I had noticed something odd about this whole exchange; the reaction of the Iron Bull.
"You'll do no such thing, general," I commanded, "I forbid it."
The sword came up again. "He insulted our Empress, your loved one," Louise insisted, "It cannot be allowed to stand."
"Then report his words to our Empress," I replied, "If Tam feels insulted, she can come here and disassemble the little shit herself. But I think she'll be more insulted that you decided to cause a diplomatic incident over this."
Blondie lowered her sword again, and if I had to guess, was presently losing all colour in her face at the prospect of having to explain to Tam. Feeling I needed to rescue her from the place she had put herself, I pointed at the Iron Bull, sitting with a mug to his mouth, watching with his one good eye.
"See over there? The Bull is doing nothing," I said, "Their leader is letting them get into a fight with a potential ally of the Inquisition. Considering he is a Qunari agent, any idea why he might be doing nothing about this?"
Louise's gaze finally broke away from the lieutenant in front of her, and towards the Bull. He continued to say nothing, carefully placing the cup down on the table in front of him, the rest of his Chargers talking quietly to each other.
"He instigated it," Louise concluded, "He wants to use an incident to undermine the alliance before it even starts." Bingo.
No mystery why it was Louise who became a chevalier and Mariette who became an assassin/operator.
Of all the people who would not like a reconciliation between the southern factions, the Qunari had the most to lose. Peace in the South meant the proliferation of technologies from Troy that would see the Qun permanently on the backfoot.
"Seems logical, right?" I said, before waving a hand in the direction of her opponent, "If I had to guess, I'd say he's playing both of you, knowing that this gentleman doesn't like being stared at and that he would resort to insults no chevalier could ignore."
The lieutenant's brow was gathered in annoyance... but not necessarily with us. It seems my idea had struck a chord. He was silent... and long enough that it got a reaction out of his boss.
With a mix of a groan and a sigh, the Iron Bull got up off his chair and wandered over, crossing into the middle of the room behind his subordinates first and then through them towards us.
It was a strange feeling to see him up close again... I had watched him die at the hands of demons already. Like seeing a ghost, a mixture of fear and surprise. My mind went back to his death at first... and then to his slaying of so many fiends before he was taken. How formidable he had been in-close. I was not about allow myself to be taken too.
I very visibly and loudly cocked my weapon, causing most of said subordinates to back off a step and Louise to pirouette back out of the firing line, apparently expecting me to start shooting at once. Knowing that a bloody combat was quite likely about to begin, Barris rushed off at once, skirting around the Chargers and exiting the building. Apparently the Inquisitor's orders had limits, and the Templars were not mere conscripts.
Shooting wasn't really my intention, but at this point, I thought the Iron Bull might start shit himself if his lieutenant wasn't willing to. His massive butcher-cleaver-like axe was on his back, after all.
"Krem, I think this'll take a little more negotiation. Allow me," the Bull said, before looking to us, "Marquis, you should let them fight it out. We have grievances. This is just going to fester, like a bad wound. Better to get it over with quickly, for the sake of the alliance."
Not an incorrect statement of the facts, but a terrible solution to the problem they described. Now I was certain he was behind the whole thing. 'Getting it over with' before negotiations were complete would reduce the likelihood of Troy winning concessions.
Dorian stepped in between us before I could reply. "I'm newer to the Inquisition than you are, Bull," he said, "But don't you think this is doing Corypheus' work for him? I'm sure he'd be laughing with joy to see us all fighting each other to the death over insults."
This was the first time I heard the name of the Elder One. The Inquisition had not handed over its intelligence to us yet, which included that little tidbit. Of course, I was able to work out who he was talking about by context, but that was definitely a Tevinter name. An interesting piece of information.
"The war against Corypheus isn't the only war," the Bull replied, side-stepping the Altus to the latter's irritation.
Now I was really getting pissed off, and said something stupid.
"Yes, it is the only war," I disagreed, "We're up to our eyeballs in demons, and I ended our war. Or did Qunandar not get the message I was sending when we annihilated the Antaam outside Hercinia? Are thirty thousand corpses not a big enough statement? Should I order a repeat performance at Kont-Aar?"
I had no legal authority nor any intention to make such an order... but that didn't matter.
"You..." the Bull began, taking a step forward and reaching over his shoulder.
I brought my weapon up in a flash and flicked the selector to automatic with a click, the barrel aimed right at his head. The Iron Bull stopped dead and stared, a gaze of one sensing immediate danger from my direction. Clearly he remembered what had happened the last time he tried to attack one of us; Julie had let him see a demonstration of her Beretta.
"Yeah, me," I droned, before switching to Orlesian, "Why is it that no one stays out of my way until I start killing people?"
"You are rather disruptive," Louise chipped in.
My instincts were screaming to shoot the huge man, knowing that at that range, it was still possible for him to attack me with that big axe of his before he died outright. But reason prevailed. We needed to protect the integrity of our negotiating position. Time to offer an out.
"You'd think my reputation would be enough by now," I said, returning to Common, "Either way, there aren't going to be any duels to the death on my watch. And I have Dorian here as a witness, I want no trouble at all with you and yours, Iron Bull. End this. Go back to your table."
"You'd be wise to accept that, Bull," the Altus agreed, "Refusing will put you firmly on the wrong side of me too, because I don't tolerate this level of stupidity in people I have to fight alongside. And I'm not someone you want as an enemy." Could've kissed Dorian for this intervention. It definitely made the balance of power in the confrontation a little more in our favour.
Enough to provoke hesitation.
The Iron Bull stood there, as his subordinates looked to him for the next move. They were quite clearly willing to give it a try anyway. I couldn't shoot them all in time, Dorian couldn't blast them all and Louise couldn't cut or stab them all. There was a good twenty of them and they were barely ten paces away. The Qunari stood calculating the odds in his mind, but he didn't finish before others intervened.
The door to the courtyard smashed against the wall as it was thrown open, and Barris stepped into the tavern once again.
Behind him were Sister Nightingale, their one, and what I would count as forty armed and armoured Templars. They fanned out around the room, surrounding all of us. I did nothing as this happened, not about to let the Iron Bull have an easy opening, but he relaxed, looking around at the new arrivals and rubbing the back of his neck.
Never been so glad to see Templars in my life.
Tethras, again their one, slipped in once the Templars had, pushing his way to join Barris and Nightingale as they moved to an open place to the side of the confrontation, where we could all see them.
"Knight-Commander Barris told me there was a disturbance here," Sister Nightingale said, anger in her tone, "I can see that he was correct. This is unacceptable."
She looked between us for an explanation. I was silent, not feeling I owed her one. I was not her subordinate, and she was not my mother. We were not children caught fighting in the backyard.
"It's just a misunderstanding," the Iron Bull lied, "We've handled it." Clearly trying to appear as the reasonable one now that the Inquisition was involved directly. Problem is that his group rather outnumbered ours, and there was no getting around that.
Sister Nightingale's eyes narrowed at the Qunari, but she then turned to me for confirmation. "Is that so?" she continued, "Marquis? If that is true, you may lower your weapon."
"Sure thing," I drawled back, "When the Bull and his buddies return to their table."
The Bull waved his Chargers to move without hesitation, seeing no reason to refuse my request. Intelligent of him. As they were permitted through the Templar perimeter, I lowered my firelance and leaned back on the bar counter, most of the tension leaving me at last.
I could tell already that the whole Inquisition thing was going to be hard work.
"Thanks Barris," I said to the Knight-Commander, "That could have gotten messy." Referring to him fetching his troops to stop bloodshed.
"I did it because I think you were right," he replied quietly, "I think the Iron Bull was trying to cause an incident." Being a man of the Chantry, Barris was no fan of the Qun either.
"The Iron Bull has been invaluable to our cause," Sister Nightingale countered, "And he is no fool."
"My point exactly," I said, picking up bread from the tray behind me and ripping off a piece to eat. It was hard and took effort to chew, but good. "He thinks he is doing good by keeping us Libertarian types out, and he's smart enough to concoct a decent cover story."
The woman, dressed in exactly the same gear I saw her in at Redcliffe in the dark future, considered this for a minute, before speaking again.
"We need to speak to you," she said, not clarifying who 'we' meant, "Now would be preferable."
Finding such a request a burden on my patience, I did not respond, instead finishing eating the bread in my mouth. Which took a little bit, enough time to allow the requesting to feel the same displeasure that I felt.
"I have no intention of taking a verbal lashing for preventing a duel to the death," I replied at last, "So if you're going to scold me for almost shooting the Bull, I'm afraid I must decline your request."
"It has nothing to do with him," Tethras piped up, speaking for the first time since he had entered, "We want to talk about us... the other us. The ones you brought back from the future."
I held up a forefinger in objection. "A future," I said, correcting him, "I'm sure Dorian here can explain that different timelines exist." I was perhaps too insistent there, I still don't have my mind fully around what the hell happened there or how timelines work.
"If you want to keep negotiations alive, I must insist," Sister Nightingale said, "The terms of you being here dictate access to our … counterparts from the future. We are very far from satisfied by how you have fulfilled this obligation."
So, there was something about or from their future counterparts they wanted to know, but somehow they weren't getting answers.
I glanced at Louise, who turned her hand in a sort of aristocratic shrug. As I have mentioned, a delegate had been sent to Troy to speak to our Nightingale and Tethras. He should have been able to ask whatever the hell they wanted. It was a little strange that this was suddenly not good enough.
"Did your Chantry brother suddenly have his tongue stolen by the cat?" I sighed, "But since you seem to be putting the whole alliance in jeopardy over this... fine. We'll talk."