Hostis humani generis
Perhaps the universal piece of international law that all the realms of Earth recognised, aside from 'don't kill the messenger', is hostis humani generis, which simply means 'enemies of all mankind'. It is an old legal principle whereby criminals of a certain type can be dealt with by any nation regardless of who actually catches them.
The criminals in question are essentially anyone who picks up a weapon under no banner. In theory, that means bandits, raiders, mercenaries, terrorists, and funnily enough, certain kinds of revolutionaries. In the course of my time on Thedas, I have dealt with all of them one way or another, but there is one category of hostis humani generis that our Republic has relished the chance to deal with.
Pirates on the high seas.
I would like to think the dishonour of pirates seizing the Gallows from us was never forgotten, that our state vowed 'never again' when it came to such effrontery. In the early days, it was certainly a motivating factor. But soon, it was tied up with the economy; trade via the sea became of paramount importance, and with it the Navy matched if not surpassed my Army for importance.
But in 9:40, the issue of piracy was to become the key factor in securing an agreement with the Inquisition. Or rather, the capture of one particular pirate which necessitated taking on half the others.
I am of course referring to Ianto, known on the high seas as the Talon. And known by me as the bastard who had captured and abused those under my command, even going so far as to use my own body to do so.
To say Ali was enthusiastic about taking Estwatch under his banner was an understatement. It would be the first part of his ancestral birthright reclaimed, albeit that the Rivaini claim to the island was disputed.
After years and years of being a pretender, he was finally going to be a ruler. An agreement was quickly reached, allowing Troy to use the island as a naval base in perpetuity in return for military support of his claim. That price was the only sticking point, as I still refused to allow deployment of troops to Rivain itself. I had no desire to expose our troops to yellow fever and malaria. This was quickly overcome though, as Ali had no real wish to see a Trojan military presence established on the mainland either.
Nor did we have any trouble with the Assembly. They backed the attack with a vote in support. The result was unanimously in favour. All fraternity leaders spoke in favour of it, because the writing was on the wall for our situation on the high seas.
With the Orlesian Imperial Navy busy, the Antivan Navy broken and the Nevarrans sticking close to their own shores, the first signs that piracy was going to be a problem popped up. New incidents of hijackings and looting on the ocean had been reported from survivors on ships sailing under the flags of all realms bordering the Waking Sea.
The exception was our own merchant ships, of which there were now a considerable number. Trading companies had been registering their vessels with us since our defeat of the Antivan Navy, and the fleet of Jader was already flying our flag. There was exactly one attempted hijacking around the time of the sky splitting open, but the pirates in question rather unwisely mistook one of our frigates for a merchant ship.
The shattered remains of their sloops were left to float on the waves, and only three of the pirates were fished from the water for trial in Troy. They were found guilty by a military tribunal, as the crime had occurred outside of Trojan territory. Their sentences of death by firing squad were suspended by Tam however, and she wisely had them released to spread the tale. And spread it had.
Admiral Fisher had brought it to the attention of the High Command that it was likely we would be blamed for this new wave of piracy, as it had been us that had shattered the dominance of the local naval powers, and we had also granted letters of marque to privateers to go annoy the Qunari.
It didn't matter that the problem would soon affect us too indirectly, as we relied on foreign ships for resupply, or that the privateers we commissioned were not the same crews and ships now roving around. We had overturned the old order. We needed to create up a new one.
So, with every logistical and political reason in the world to attack Estwatch, we did just that.
Our main battle fleet made its sortie from the Bay of Dolphins in heavy seas, and arrived just after Ianto's flotilla, laying off the mouth of the large natural harbour that made Estwatch. We didn't have a lot of time, the real winter sea storms would arrive any day.
Which is how I found myself throwing up my guts at the front of a longship, as we approached a beach surrounded by high cliffs.
Estwatch has a large and deep natural harbour which extends right into the centre of the island, not unlike Pearl Harbour on Oahu back on Earth. The pirate hub had more extensive natural defences however; the aforementioned cliffs, and sloping hills on the edge of the island.
These had been augmented by the Qunari and then the pirates with a fortress halfway up the mouth of the harbour. Beyond it, around the harbour's centre, is the pirate town of Little Llomerryn. However, the island's defences are much worse off elsewhere, pirates not having a standing army or taxes to maintain defences and there being no money in holding a fortress where shipping usually wouldn't bother to go.
To the north, sheltered by a smaller island simply called the Stone, the wide beach the Marines were so desperately rowing towards stretched. There are others like it on the eastern side of the island, but they were exposed to the full fury of the Amaranthine Ocean.
I knew I would get seasick, but I had to be there when we landed.
I needed control of the situation, and felt like my life would only be returned to me once Ianto was dead. Any time I was reminded of the bastard, the wish to indulge in that drug he had forced Mariette and I to take would scratch behind my eyeballs. The spray off the waves was also soaking us to the skin, but thankfully the overcast sky had not decided to throw rain into the mix.
So, as you can imagine, I was in a bad way the entire trip to the shore. Immediate nausea on exiting the eluvian on board the Océane, even more after I transferred to the longship, followed by trepidation and jonesing for a fix of the Silk until we hit the sand, sweating like a pig.
I distracted myself by trying to see our battle squadrons manoeuvring to the south, preparing to bombard the fortresses.
The first broadside thundered from the horizon, the flashes of dozens of cannon easily visible even from the distance we were at. Any one hit was enough to do serious harm to the fortifications, and no doubt they were crumbling with every landed shot. More to the point, it provided a fireworks show for the enemy, to distract them from our own work.
The longships hit the beaches at high tide, riding practically all the way to the paths out of them through what looked like redwood forest. Small ramps that we had installed to either side of the bows immediately dropped into the calves-high water. The Marines drew up their oars and readied to storm off the ships.
I was the first to reach dry land, not having to do anything else before disembarking. In fact, I had gotten off so quickly, there was a full minute where I was the only one on the beach itself.
Despite it being unsteady going due to the fact it was made of smooth pebbles as much as sand, I felt better immediately, the seasickness that was the anchor for the rest of my woes dissolving at once. The Marines soon swarmed up to my position, a platoon led by Ciara escorting an eluvian on its own stretcher, behind a full battle line under the command of Paulie.
The pair of them approached me as soon as the whole unit had enveloped my position, securing the exit route off the beach.
"Where do you want the mirrors?" Ciara asked me, stopping beside me and squeezing water out of her shirt's bottom where the sea had splashed her.
"High and dry, just inside the trees," I said, wanting to be away from the swell of the water, "Marines to fortify just inside the treeline, eluvians to go inside it all."
"Not a problem," Paulie said, before gesticulating back at the ships, "Can I leave a company to pull the ships up a little more? Don't want them washed away if the weather gets bad, and it smells like it's gonna do just that."
Bemused that he thought he could smell changing weather, but seeing no real harm in the idea and that he had more experience with the sea than me, I allowed it. He saluted casually and marched off, barking orders to the rear-most company of Marines skulking about to start dragging the longships ashore, before turning and ordering the rest forward into the forest.
The Marines made three sides of a square around the two exits off the beach, while runners brought braziers from the ships to help keep everyone warm. We were all changing clothes in shifts, as being soaked with water in early winter was a recipe for hypothermia or frostbite even. Soon after, the filling of empty grain sacks with sand and loose dirt began, creating a defence line around the area or the beginnings of one.
We had plenty of empty grain sacks to go around by that point of the crisis.
The eluvian was soon parked under the shade of the large trees, well sheltered from the wind behind a rocky outcropping. The first was activated and another two brought out of it, set up in line with it. After that, out streamed the Compañia Real, all one thousand of its foot soldiers. They quickly gathered in a battle line in between the trees, beyond our defensive cordon, directed there by our Logistics Corps.
This was followed by Ali and his personal guard, dismounted from their pachyderms but still dressed like Persian cataphracts in chainmail from head to toe.
"General," Ali greeted as he exited, keeping formal.
Seeing as he was in that mood, I saluted, following the tone he set. "Your Majesty," I replied, "Welcome to your province of Estwatch."
"More like your province, given that your Navy will sail from it forevermore," Ali corrected, before softening, "But I thank you nonetheless. It enhances my claim and I would never have had this opportunity without you."
I gave a single nod in acknowledgement. "It isn't done yet," I said, "Stick to the plan. No glorious charges into town, please."
"I am to wait until it's been softened up," Ali replied, "I am not a forgetful person."
Attacking a fortified position without softening things up would've given a considerable advantage to the pirates, so we weren't giving them that chance, while granting Ali the opportunity to be a direct part of the victory. Good politics, good strategy. Win-win.
"Didn't say you were forgetful," I smirked back, offering my hand, "Good luck."
The Prince shook my hand with his right, and with his left, dropped a visor down over his face. "I hope I will not need it," he replied in Common, before waving his bodyguard to join him.
The whole crowd of Rivainis ran off to join the main force, the Marines watching them curiously as they moved.
"We playing nice with aristos now?" Paulie asked flatly, "I'm not a Libertarian, but that guy spent too much time in Antiva. I don't care how many elephants he's got, I hear his coat of arms is a peacock!" As Rivainis went, the good Prince was a lot better off than most and it showed. But that was to mistake him for a useless person too.
I glared at Paulie for his underestimation of the man. "He's also a deadly son of a bitch," I replied, "Held the line against Antiva's mercenaries after we left, long enough for the Calabrians to do a deal. Even with the assassins trying to kill him."
The captain scoffed. "Oh yeah? We'll see," Paulie said, "My money is on him tumbling back here with his tail between his legs, looking for help."
I rolled my eyes. "Then we'll be here to support him," I pressed on, "Get your Marines moving as soon as the defences are up. We need Little Llomerryn surrounded so we can bring up the cannon."
The Captain gave me a cocked eyed glare for a moment, with plenty of argument left in the tank for him to throw, but he decided against it. And I doubt it was because I was formally his superior for this operation.
He ran off, his rag-tag command staff in tow.
"Ciara, can you go back to the Crossroads to tell McNulty that we're ready?" I asked, "Might want to fetch the extra weapons too."
Ciara sniffed and gathered the furs around her shoulders closer, the cold weather was getting to her. "Just in case Paulie is right?" she asked.
"Just in case Paulie is right," I confirmed, "Kirkwall was the only shot Ianto got at being underestimated."
By the time the forward operating base's wall of sand and pebble filled bags had been completed, the Grenadier division was making its way through the eluvians to take up guarding it, relieving the Marines of that duty, who in turn went off to encircle the town at the treeline.
McNulty's unit was filled with our crack assault regiments; they trained specifically for seizing fortifications and towns, and normally were split up among other divisions save for the very largest of battles, like the Alba. The man himself was in top shape, having achieved a new level of fame for his swift seizures of several towns south of the Minanter during the campaign against Starkhaven.
He was the last to strut through an eluvian with Ciara, carrying our weapons' case for her, a firelance over his shoulder.
"General," he grunted in greeting, "We miss any action yet?"
"If we have, Paulie hasn't said so," I replied, giving him a wave in response.
McNulty smirked at my use of the captain's nickname. "Maybe the old sea snake doesn't know how to use a radio," he said, "Being on land confuses him."
"Don't think he's that stupid, even if he is long in the tooth," I disagreed, albeit in good spirits, "He'll tell us if something goes wrong."
"In the mean time, can I leave a regiment here and move the rest of the division closer?" McNulty asked, "Just in case."
"I'll join you in a minute," I agreed, implying my assent, "Just in case."
The general gave a snappy salute, and barked orders at his waiting officers, who knew better than to interrupt us when we were speaking. McNulty, being one of the originals that had followed me since I first mustered the Free Army, had earned the privilege of casual conversation with me.
Very few others would've dared, at least from among the Army's ranks. The Navy's people were another story, as Paulie's whole attitude demonstrated even if he was the most casual of them.
A groom brought through two horses; Bellona for me, her chestnut red colouring covered with the crimson and blue barding to protect her, and a white Dalish courser for Ciara, similarly protected but with in green and yellow.
"The horses?" I asked my companion.
"In case Ianto tries to run," Ciara replied, "Better if we can outrun him."
Very pleased that she knew my priorities in this, I ruffled her hair. "You are a peach," I smiled widely, "What else did you bring?"
The she-elf shrugged and kicked open the metal box from Bizzaro-Earth, revealing a semi-automatic precision firelance and a whole bunch of handcannons.
"We might not get close to the pirate, so you can use this," she said, pointing to the former weapon before switching to the latter, "And if we get in close, the pistols are probably quicker than reloading." All of which augmented the assault firelances we already had over our shoulders.
Very logical. To show my approval, I happily picked the precision weapon up out of the box and replaced my original weapon into it. Ciara smiled happily, knowing she had done right, before we both festooned ourselves with handcannons.
Just as we had finished and mounted up, the theatrics began.
A burst came through my radio headset. Paulie was calling for me, using proper callsigns. That the man was following procedure was enough for my heart to skip a step.
"What is it?" I asked directly, ignoring protocol myself.
"Our Rivaini friends are in some serious shit," the man replied, taking my dropping of formality as permission to do the same, "They got caught. Heavy fighting. They're holding for now, but they're outnumbered."
I cursed under my breath. What the hell was the Prince thinking? He had orders about what to do in this scenario. "So go help him," I said, "Don't wait for the Prince to ask, that request might never come." Either out of Ali's pride or because the runners wouldn't make it. The enemy didn't lack for archers, after all.
"The pirates have demons with them," Paulie replied nastily, "Big, glowing red ones as tall as houses. All my guys are all spread out, it'll take time to get everyone back." There was more than a little recrimination in his reply, not least because the Marines hadn't been assigned any cannon by the government yet. The ones they had used at the Alba had been on their longships, and had either stayed there for this operation or had been reclaimed by the Army afterwards.
The glowing red thing really stood out though. Red lyrium was the only explanation. I grit my teeth, easily able to believe the depths of Ianto's depravity but not the inability of the other realms to do anything about him. Why the hell would the other pirates help him? Fear?
I changed my radio channel. "McNulty, we're on the way," I said over the comms, "The Marines report the Rivainis are up to their neck in demons."
"I'll order formation of line of battle," McNulty said, and did just that, his command half-heard via the radio as he issued it to his direct subordinates. No hesitation at all was involved.
Facing demons was regular as rain, after months of combat against the creatures belched out by the hellgates. Though this would be the first time since those terrible early days that the demons wouldn't be contained within known zones of one of those portals. Which made me ask the question.
"Paulie, do you see a hellgate?" I asked, "Anywhere near the fighting?"
"No," came the answer, "Don't think there is one, it would have to be in town."
And we would have heard of that, I thought. Indeed, there wasn't a single hellgate on the whole island.
I nudged Bellona forward, the horse understanding my meaning immediately and setting off at a quick trot out of our beachhead. Ciara followed behind on her own mount, and we navigated through the massive trees towards the battlefield. It was not difficult to do, the tracks of thousands of soldiers are easily followed, the brush and leaves on the ground torn up and pushed aside in a whole swath across the forest floor.
It was uphill for half the journey, and downhill for the rest, but soon we came up from behind on McNulty's position. We manoeuvred through a gap between two of the regiments and onto the treeline, the interior of the island opening up to our view at last.
To either side of us were thousands of our own troops and two dozen cannon, with McNulty and his staff on horses a little way to our right, peering through binoculars down at everything else. They had been ordered to sit and rest for a moment, while their general decided what to do next. It was little wonder.
Beyond the trees, there was a large open space of nothing but patchy grass and thousands of tree stumps stretching all the way to the town. Said settlement crowded around the northern point of the harbour, though buildings were dotted all around the water's edge. Intelligence put the total population at no more than fifteen thousand adults.
Strangely colourful wood-built houses of three to five floors obscured the three dozen or so ships that were at anchor, the latter visible mostly because their masts were far taller than the buildings. Soon enough, our Navy would have free reign to sail right into town, but that was still going to take a little time.
It was also easy to see that Ali had bitten off more than he could chew.
While Paulie had wisely kept his troops in the treeline as he surrounded the place, Ali had decided to try and take the town himself or had gravely miscalculated how close he should've been when waiting to attack it. His regiment couldn't have been more than two hundred yards from the first real streets, the approach of which would've been seen a mile off.
He must've scared the shit out of the pirates, because his thousand soldiers looked like they were fighting the whole town. If his idea was to lure them out, he had succeeded a little too well. The reports of demons, or rather red-lyrium possessed people, were not exaggerated either. You could see the strange glow in the air from a distance. This explained the lack of hellgate.
The Prince was outnumbered ten to one, and his own number was matched by the glowing freaks.
In the streets beyond, huge lumbering behemoths of red crystal were moving towards the fight, unable to move quickly on account of their asymmetric shapes.
The heir to Rivain's throne was not an idiot though, and had quickly formed his troops into a massive schiltron; a circular formation with the spear and halberd troops on the outside, swords in support directly behind and the archers in the centre. They weren't quite surrounded, but that was just a matter of time, as more and more of the pirates were coming out of the streets to either flank.
McNulty was quick to act. Before I could issue any orders, three regiments of his own advanced at the double quick from the left, the flank that didn't have fortifications near it. They stepped off, the blue flags flapping wildly over their heads, the white star and grenade icon in the centre of them easily visible. I watched them for a moment, before I understood where McNulty had ordered them to go, and pulled on the reins to send Bellona towards the general's position.
Ciara and I arrived at the trot, circling around to join him.
"That won't be enough," I said to him, "You know that, right?"
"That's what the cannon are for," McNulty countered, gesturing at the nearest battery of five of the big guns, as they were unlimbered and prepared to fire, "I'm going to get our guys where they can enfilade the ones coming at the Rivaini from the streets. Should send them running back home, the ones that aren't demons anyway. Then we send the rest of the division to keep it that way, let the artillery do the talking for the rest of the day."
I hmmed to myself, simultaneously impressed with his plan and a little nervous about the ruthlessness of its execution. I had already devastated one town with cannon, letting it become a habit of our army seemed like poor politics. The only thing stopping me from countermanding such an order was that this particular town was a hive of scum and villainy, in the truest sense.
With nothing to vocally object to, I instead turned to Ciara.
"Get your binoculars out," I said, "Find me Ianto's banner. His troops have got to be out there if the red lyrium things are fighting. We need to capture one."
My companion immediately rummaged for the big hunting binos, pulling them out of a saddlebag and putting them to her eyes, aiming the things at the fight and its surroundings.
"Wouldn't he be out fighting himself?" McNulty interjected, "Last stand of the great Talon?" The man's understanding of piracy was based on the usual pirate attitude... but Ianto was anything but usual.
"He's too smart," I replied, "He'll know what defence-in-depth means. He'll hide in that town in the best spot he can, have everyone else fight to whittle us down. Only then will he stand and fight, and even then he'll have an escape route if at all possible."
"How do you know that?" McNulty asked, "Doubt you had much time in Kirkwall to question him about his strategy, even if he would have been cooperative."
"He had Mariette ask around," Ciara replied on my behalf, in a tone that said the answer was obvious, "The OSS has lots of pirate contacts..."
"Privateer contacts," I corrected, "They're technically part of our navy while they're off taking Qunari supply ships." Ciara shook her head a little, as if to say it was a distinction without a difference.
A runner bolted past us and scrambled to a halt in front of McNulty, handing him a note. A grin appeared on the man's face, widening as he progressed through the note.
"All cannon report ready to fire," he said, "And our pickets report that the fortifications of the mouth of the harbour are destroyed. The galleons should be sailing in any time now."
My spirits rose. That was good news. There would be no escape by sea this way.
"I've spotted Ianto's banner," Ciara said abruptly, her eyes still in the binos, "Sea serpent on a red field, right?"
"Where is it?" I said, straining my eyes.
My companion did not respond immediately, as if double checking that she was right. Only to tear the binos from her eyes and rub them with her thumb and forefinger. "Right in the middle of the big ones," Ciara bemoaned.
The big ones being the towering deformed creatures of flesh and crystal being held off by halberd and arrowpoint only barely by Ali's troops. My stomach lurched. I wasn't sure just how much damage could be done to such creatures even by my own weapons, and they were far too close to the Rivainis to use cannons from this range.
But facing that threat was the only route to Ianto that I could see.
"Then that's where we have to go," I said, unhappily.
The first crackle of musketry in the distance informed me that McNulty's regiments had started supporting Ali's troops as Ciara and I rode hard for the Rivaini schiltron at a full gallop. The reinforcements entering the fight had just about stopped us from being cut off, as the pirates had redirected their forces away to try and close the distance.
But it was not an easy thing for us to do either way.
Cursing to myself, I ducked low in the saddle as the first arrows whizzed by my head, archers targeting us as we came in from the tops of the roof of the nearest building. We were still some distance away though, so they were just wasting arrows... but there was always a chance at a lucky shot, even if their attention was more likely best directed at larger units than two important looking riders.
The Rivainis saw us coming, and opened the back of their formation for us to ride in. Thankfully, the large red lyrium creatures had backed off a little too, so the horses weren't too frightened. Bellona entered the ring of troops without any direction from myself, and Ciara's mount followed. We skidded to a halt in the middle, where Ali was waiting for me.
The Prince was covered from head to toe in pirate blood, his visor was missing, and he was using his ornate purple sash to try and clean the ichor off his sabre. It was the last piece of cloth that wasn't already soaked in it. He gave me a stupidly casual wave, which would've drawn my anger normally because he had got his troops into a terrible position.
Heat rising to my head, I dismounted and took two steps towards him with a mind to rip him a new one... but I quickly realised that he was exhausted, his stance half-stooped. I calmed, and slowed my pace.
"What happened?" I asked, as Ciara ran to catch up with me. I felt I didn't need to specify what I was talking about, and I was correct.
"It wasn't anyone's fault, it was magic," Ali spat, "Some sort of siren call, sounded like Andraste herself singing to us, attracted us closer. Made us overconfident. Then it reversed as the town attacked as a wave. Half of my companies practically pissed themselves. The pirates came out of those buildings there and sent a wave of arrows at us to root us on the spot. Was about to call retreat when the crystal demons showed, I dare not break formation with them so near." He indicated the buildings and the fiends in question with his sabre.
Now that was a notion that sent a chill up my spine more surely than the growing winter cold. Perhaps it's exactly the sort of magic you would expect for pirates. Especially when we are talking about Ianto. While a million questions floated around in my head, we didn't have time for them.
"We need to capture some of the demons' handlers," I said, "You need to hold out."
"But with the reinforcements..." Ali began, glancing back to the treeline, the natural rallypoint for retreat.
"Only reason we're doing this is Ianto," I warned, "It shouldn't be long though."
There was great clamour and shouting in Antivo-Rivaini creole from the side, forcing the three of us to turn to see.
The red crystalline behemoths had rallied, their handlers seemingly assured that the bulk of the Grenadiers' muskets were aimed elsewhere for the moment. This was the chance they thought they needed to break the Rivaini position... and my ass along with it.
Rather than fear, it was malice poured into my veins at the sight of a baker's dozen of the things charging towards the waiting halberds as one formation. I could see more detail now than I would've liked. Razor sharp claws, eyes that looked maddened and glowed orange... each had a clawed hand on one arm, a crystal hammer the size of a tree trunk on the other.
Feeling I could rely on my magical immunity to protect me, I unslung my precision firelance and prepared to help repel them.
"Ciara, behind me," I said, "Aim for the heads." I got a grunt in acknowledgement as my companion stepped away. She didn't have my gift.
The reason for my target selection was obvious; aside from one of the arms, the head was the only part of the behemoths that weren't sheathed in the crystal. I doubted the stuff was bulletproof even against Thedas-manufactured firelances, but there was a lot of it, and it was good ablative armour. You needed many shots to chip down towards the vital organs.
"We can't hold that back!" Ali warned under his breath, "They didn't all come at once like that before!"
My eyes scanned the sight in front of me, pulling my eyes away from the immediate threat for anything that might give us an advantage. The lifeline seems obvious now, but just one big flashy demon can often distract you in battle. Thirteen can really grab your attention, even if they are slow things.
"Then we don't hold them back," I said, "Open the front of the formation and let them in."
"That's suicide," Ali hissed, just barely keeping his voice low enough so his captains didn't hear him.
"The pirates are too busy fighting my troops," I pointed out, "Those things have only got their handlers with them. If we break the formation in two at the front, advance slightly, the demons come straight inside, we'll have them surrounded."
Ali growled, not liking the plan one bit. He shouted orders over the sound of battle to our flank to go along with it nonetheless, trusting in my reputation as the foremost demonslayer on the planet. "What makes you think they'll come right into the middle of the circle?" he asked, once his troops had been informed.
By way of answering, I raised my firelance to my shoulder, placed the scope's reticles across the head of the closest behemoth about a hundred yards from me, and waited for it to loll into the centre of them. A second later, I squeezed the trigger in rapid succession, snapping off three rounds over the tops of the heads of the halberdiers.
The first shattered the crystal growing right up out of its collar area, sending splinters into its face. I was off by maybe an inch, the twisting gait of the demon having moved its head out of place. But a the thing roared and flinched, the next two bullets hit home, the twitch away from the first bullet moving its head back into the line of fire.
The thing's roar shut up abruptly, and it faceplanted onto the ground with a thud that was not only audible over the shooting elsewhere but could be felt in the soft wet earth under our feet. The Rivainis immediately found their courage boosted, emptying their lungs in a collective cheer that shook the air.
The behemoth's attention zoned in on me as the most obvious threat, their handlers doing nothing to dissuade them from that assessment. Just as planned, the demons would look to me in the centre.
"I want to try that one," Ciara remarked, referring to my firelance, "But not now, I think." It was a poweful weapon, but clearly attracted the wrong sort of notice in that situation.
"I do not envy you your task, friend," Ali stated, "I'll give the order when they're almost in contact."
Immunity in my back pocket as a gambit, I shrugged and kept shooting.
Ciara joined in as well, and together we shot two magazines downrange. The ground was littered with shards of red lyrium, pieces flying off with every bullet that hit home. We managed to kill another three crystal behemoths … until the things showed real initiative that sent my brain itching.
The demons began shielding their heads and faces with the massive crystal growth on their 'hammer' arm. They moved even more slowly like that, but were far less vulnerable... at least in the face.
"Legs," I said to Ciara, by radio over the din. The limbs were armoured with crystal too, albeit less of it. The behemoths began stumbling as we hit home, but we had to be careful not to hit the Rivainis in front of us, so whatever time we bought was minimal... but enough.
I'm sure to many Orlesians and Trojans, even as I write this, the concept of Rivaini discipline is almost an oxymoron. But on the fields outside Little Llomerryn, they proved such prejudice absolutely false.
As soon as it looked like the behemoths were within swiping distance with their great crystal hammers, Ali gave a shout and the entire formation of Rivainis changed on a dime. The half of the circle facing the enemy opened and allowed the demons inside. The lumbering things took the bait, still fixated on me and to Ciara behind me.
Then, like Pacman eating a ghost, the formation closed again.
From all sides, the Rivainis jumped the benemoths, charging forth, to try and get inside the arc of the demons' arms. Mostly, our allies seemed to have succeeded, though there were still many that failed, being swept aside by the hammers or torn by the claws. They hacked and grabbed, cutting and dragging the enemy down from standing to kneeling to laying on the ground, though arrows began flying in from the rooftops once more.
The lead demons were not attacked however, they ambled further inside, not aware of what was happening behind them... and nothing between me and their wrath except air. At that distance, they seemed to move quicker as well, though their size made that illusion more than any extra effort on their part.
With my field of fire free of Rivainis again, I emptied my weapon into the behemoths charging me. One had thought that it was close enough to raise its hammer to aim at me. That had been a mistake, as I put well-placed shots into its head, unbalancing the top heavy demon and sending it tumbling backwards.
Another was wiser, it kept its arm up. A shiver of fear went up me, before reason reasserted itself and told me that the thing could not hurt me more than the slyvans from my first week on Thedas. A hit would hurt like shit, but it wouldn't injure me badly and it would kill the demon. I reloaded quickly nonetheless, trusting my instincts too much to rely entirely on an untested truth.
Ciara stepped to the side of me a ways, and let loose with her entire magazine as I pulled back the charging handle of my own weapon. The staccato of the firing was very loud, but I appreciated the help. She aimed low, looking to topple the behemoth, but her firelance's bullets were smaller than the ones my precision one used and sheared off less of the crystal protecting the fiend's legs.
It stumbled forwards at me, finally moving its arm to side-swipe me as I raised my weapon. It struck first, but only just. The giant crystal encrusted hammer-arm slammed into my left side. I went spinning away a good five yards, feeling like I had just been struck by lightning. My magical immunity had provided absolutely no protection whatsoever, and it was only the Behemoth's awkwardness of having to move from its defensive stance to an attack that saved my ribs from being broken.
Pain overwhelmed me, sending me almost out of consciousness for a few seconds. I lay on my stomach stunned until every part of me screamed for relief and I awoke again.
Time seemed to slow then.
I could see fighting all around me, I could see pirates fleeing from all directions back towards their town... and I could hear martial music. The pain turned from a feeling of hot spikes through me to a deep throb. The longer this went on, the more the flow of things returned to normal, and I realised I had to move. The giant would be moving to finish me off.
The thought of my body being returned to Troy and to my family smashed to nothing, sent true terror through me. I pulled myself to my feet as quickly as I could, the pain returning to stab, causing me to stagger. The aches assured I could only raise my weapon to my hip, but I stumbled around and prepared to fire.
I found the behemoth already on the backfoot.
Ciara had no time to reload either, so she had pulled out two handcannons like she was in a god damned John Woo movie. The swipe the thing had taken at me had dropped its defences, and its face was wide open. Only at the last minute had it twisted away from her rapid fire to a kneel, using the crystal hump to the side of its head to shelter from her, and its large hammer-arm to shield its legs.
Its face was one of concentration, a strangely sentient expression; I understood what it was doing. It was waiting for Ciara to run out of bullets. Even as large chunks of crystal shattered off of its body, it was betting she couldn't keep it up forever. An intelligent assessment.
It was going to kill Ciara.
Summoning the last of my energy, I raised my weapon to my shoulder, its scope to my eye. I was to the side of it now, courtesy of its own attack on me. A strange glee filling me, I aimed, and suddenly the only thing I was able to hear was the blood pumping in my head. I framed the knee that was supporting all of the behemoth's weight in my crosshairs and squeezed the trigger.
Ciara's previous efforts to try and cripple it were not in vain, as the leg no longer had enough crystal to stop my bullet. Underneath was just the leg of a man, deformed and enlarged but a man's nonetheless. My shot practically dismembered the behemoth. It immediately dropped sideways, its own weight tearing its leg apart. A terrible scream came out of its bulbous mouth... a strangely human scream.
We couldn't take any chances. My companion and I kept firing into it, but it didn't seem to want to die, though after enough hits, it rolled onto its back and just lay there, barely alive and breathing. I knew then I had made the right call.
My senses returned to me fully again, as the sound of the British Grenadiers playing between volleys of firelances announced the arrival of the rest of McNulty's division and explaining why the rest of the pirates were fucking off with all due haste. Even the archers were fleeing over the rooftops again. Laughter burst out of me, but only briefly, as the entire left side of my body reminded me I was injured with a few more stabs of pain.
An arm tucked under my own and I looked to find Ali helping to support my weight, his helmet off. "Let's get you back to Troy, hm?" he said, "That hit you took was no laughing matter."
I shook my head, not willing to be diverted from my task.
"No," I insisted, "Take me to that thing?"
"It's almost dead already," Ali objected, "You should leave it to die. Dying animals are often deadly."
Annoyed, and not willing to explain in detail, I pulled myself off of his shoulder. "It's not an animal," I said, "Watch." I limped over to the behemoth, Ali and Ciara following me.
"Sam..." Ciara warned, her words soon joined by the sound of her reloading. I held up a hand, not to quiet her but as a gesture for her to watch.
I made it to where the behemoth's head could look up at me. Its eyes tracked me as I moved into view, not with any particular hatred or anger, but something like resignation. More confirmation of my theory; namely that under all the red lyrium shit, there was a person.
"I'm hearing whispers," Ciara gasped suddenly, "Angry whispers."
"So am I," Ali agreed, panic rising in his voice, "What is this?" He took a step back.
Considering I was hearing them too, even over the din of battle, I had no choice but to agree.
"It's the red lyrium. Don't listen to them," I commanded, "Hopefully this level of exposure won't harm you, but I need you to be here for just a moment."
Both Ciara and Ali seemed extremely reluctant to remain, but their mouths dropped open as something gently tugged the front of my armour. It was the behemoth. It had grabbed me with its taloned smaller hand, and it was looking up at me. With very human eyes.
"Help," the thing gurgled, in a very deep tone of voice, "Save me."
I grabbed the top of its hand, not to pull it off me, but as a means of comforting the poor bastard. Mariette had taught me a few things about interrogations for just such situations. I needed an in, this was as good as any.
"If I can, I will," I said, "But I need to know what happened to you? Who did this to you?"
I already knew the answer to the latter question, I was deliberately reminding him of who his real enemy was.
"Ianto. In Ferelden. With Templars. " he said, choking out each sentence in pieces, "On his crew. They offered lyrium. Many of us... already addicts. He controls... those he does not trust... with it. We didn't... care it was red.."
"Big mistake," Ciara remarked from the side.
"Yes, big... mistake," the behemoth said, "The lyrium made... invincible... but Ianto... his mages... control.."
So Ianto had replaced the mages he lost at the Gallows... or maybe he had others already. And somehow they were controlling those that took red lyrium, which didn't seem to align with the facts. No mages had shown themselves during the fight so far, and they didn't seem likely to, with the pirates turning tail at that very moment.
He was becoming less coherent now... his time was running out. Time to press the matter at hand.
"Where is Ianto?" I asked, "We need to do something about him."
The behemoth's face twisted into one of horror. "You can't..." he said, "He will...do terrible...things..."
What the pirate lord could possibly achieve which was worse than he already had, I could not imagine. But I wasn't going to take any chances. The objective was not to chat with Ianto, after all. I was going to turn his skull into a drinking cup, assuming it was intact when we finally killed him.
I had to bite down a retort that I was who Mr. Red Lyrium needed to worry about now, and instead remembered my manners.
"Let me worry about that," I said, "Where is Ianto?"
"No..." the behemoth moaned.
"Then he'll never be stopped," I continued, "He'll keep torturing and killing, and it'll be all your fault."
No response except a stare from its deformed face. If it wasn't for its grip on my armour, I would've thought the behemoth dead.
"Langer's," it said.
My immediate thought was 'what the hell is Langer's'. It must've been written all over my face.
"Brothel," it concluded, "Near... old... mayor's... house..."
Gotcha, bitch. The discovery of the location sent me grinning widely. When I looked up, I saw Ciara was wearing a smile too, like the cat who caught the mouse. Or rat, in this case.
"Thanks," I said, getting up with a pat on the thing's hand, "We'll get you some help right now."
I scanned the surroundings for the nearest unit of Trojans, where a mage would be on hand. The shooting had stopped now and the troops were aiming about while others helped the wounded. The behemoth was not only a person but a source of intelligence and a research opportunity all wrapped in one package.
We didn't know jack shit about red lyrium or the true extent of Ianto's operations at the time. So I wanted his crystallised ass healed and sent back to Camp Jerusalem for detention and debrief as soon as possible. I was already working out in my head how to do all that without the magic lyrium whispers driving anyone crazy when I heard the Prince shift in his armour.
"I'll help him," said Ali behind me, his tone all menace.
By the time I had turned around, the true King of Rivain had swung a morningstar in the behemoth's skull with a sickening crunch, caving in face and crystal alike. The crystal seemed to stop shining as bright red as it had before with that, like it had been leeching off the life force of the human being underneath.
"That is the punishment for piracy, filth!" Ali spat, before placing his foot on its chest to pull his weapon out of it.
My blood rose to my head so fast, I was almost dizzy with anger. "What the hell did you do that for?" I asked, "That thing had plenty more to say. That man in there knew things we needed to know."
"It had nothing I needed to know," Ali said in reply, "Your government said that the pirates were my concern. Mine to punish as I see fit. All of them except Ianto."
"It was Ianto's business I wanted him to give up!" I shouted, "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I was thinking these pirates have dragged my entire realm into the gutter," Ali replied immediately, cool as can be, "And that these fucking things specifically have killed or maimed half my warriors. See?" He gestured with the blood and crystal crusted morningstar past me.
There were many dead and injured Rivainis around, it was true. His estimate of how many was not far off either; for every one still on his or her feet, I saw another on the ground, breathing or otherwise. It didn't go all the way towards soothing my anger, and I loomed over Ali for a moment.
"You're lucky you have lost a lot of people today," I noted with menace, "Otherwise I might not be able to forgive you."
Flinching for a moment, Ali exhaled and nodded. "I know," he said, "But I'm not hearing whispers any more, and I can't say I'm unhappy about that."
I paused, listening out for the lyrium's soft and alien words... and heard nothing. This extended out to an awkward silence, where neither of us knew what to say. It felt like a rift had opened in the early friendship between us.
"Look on the bright side," Ciara intervened, "We know where Ianto is."
I deflated, as if remembering I didn't have the energy for this any more. "Yeah, let's get out of here," I said, "Back to headquarters. We'll pass what happened onto Mariette, see what she can make of it. This isn't over yet."
The Grenadiers and the Rivaini Guard withdrew from the town's outskirts in good order. Soon after, Fisher's galleons and frigates sailed into the harbour and anchored in the middle of it.
For the rest of the daylight hours, the siege artillery on the hills and the guns of the Navy shot up the town. We were holding back our explosive shots for fear of setting the wooden buildings or the pirate ships on fire, but the solid shots were able to do plenty of damage. The cannon thundered for hours as key defensive points were disassembled.
Unfortunately, the brothel where Ianto was supposedly staying was in the lee of a small hillock and the Qunari-built mayor's house, which protected it from both land and sea. Besides, I had my own theory about why he was there, and if I was right, shelling the building may not have killed him. We were going to have to go get him ourselves.
As for my injuries, the Hospitaller mages said it didn't seem like anything was permanently damaged when I was hit by the behemoth, though the bruising was bad and aching like hell. They couldn't heal me without the magic being sucked out of them and their lives along with it, so I was given some elfroot to help things along.
After commanding the barrage and the assembly of my preferred team to do the job, I went to sleep. By that point, a full FOB had been set up in the woods by the eluvians, including my own tent. At sunset, I was woken by one of my Tevinter bodyguards as I had ordered. It was a short matter of getting dressed again, in furs as much as clothes, and proceeding to the headquarters tent.
With the sun was creeping down in the west, there were so much cloud cover that it was practically night already. The evening wind practically cut through you regardless, and there were braziers every five yards, teenaged recruits moving between them feeding the fires, rocking the class bear cub look in their own furs. The whole place smelled of pine sap, which wasn't at all bad.
I entered, wincing from the pain of stooping through the tent flap, and found everyone I had ordered assembled around the map table... and some other guests too.
McNulty, in command of the efforts, was there. He was looking unhappy for a reason I will get to.
My brothers in law, Marcus and Quintus, were there too, along with Armen. That represented my own personal fireteam; three powerful mages, all of whom had Earth firearms training to their names and soon to have the weapons to go along with it.
There were another three lieutenants of the Grenadiers too, representing the top tier stormtrooper platoons of the three best regiments.
All of them were men, and for a very specific reason. None of them were susceptible to Ianto taking them hostage in the same way Mariette had been. I had no intention of having myself inflicted upon any of my own people ever again, and if Ianto was going to capture more of our people, it would be during the chaos of the operation to come.
So naturally, when I found the Inquisitor, Pentaghast and the Madame de Fer in the tent too, I immediately saw why McNulty was annoyed. They were equipped for battle too; armour, weapons and potions all ready to go. Well, Pentaghast and the Inquisitor were ready to go, only an Orlesian noble thought that heels were a good choice for a city fight.
Ignoring the sinking feeling that threatened to knock me over, I strode to the map table like I didn't have a care in the world. "It seems I'm the one who's late," I remarked casually in Orlesian to McNulty, "Sorry about that, General."
The man smirked, amused that I had addressed him over the Herald of Andraste. "From what the Hospitallers reported, you needed the rest," McNulty said, "In fact, I'm not sure you should be going on this next job."
"Not that he'll listen," Armen smiled, "Not sure I would in his place either."
"Regardless, I shall report," McNulty said, straightening up, "Little Llomerryn has yet to surrender. The artillery fire has ceased with the end of daylight, so that we don't hit our own ships in the harbour. We expect the pirates to attempt negotiations in the morning, though what the Prince will say about that, I don't know."
Ali was asleep in his own tent, and likely wouldn't wake again until morning. He had spent most of the rest of the daytime visiting his injured warriors.
"It doesn't matter either way," Marcus said in Common, before gesturing to the Inquisition group, "We have new orders, it seems."
That sent my attention to the Herald quickly, let me tell you. Trevelyan and Pentaghast had the good grace to at least appear like they weren't enjoying it, but Vivienne's eyes were laughing even though the rest of her face was a mask of calm.
"Welcome to Forward Operating Base Rivain, Inquisitor," I stated with false politeness, before jabbing my finger on the table, "The only legal orders that can be given to this army flow through our own government. We do not have a treaty yet."
The Inquisitor was unphased by this reality, to my surprise.
"But we will be allies in a matter of days," Trevelyan replied, truthfully enough, "And we were very interested to hear the intelligence about red lyrium."
I cocked an eyebrow. Did Mariette pass on my verbal report to the Inquisition or did they have a spy on the Mont de Mars? "What intelligence?" I asked.
"The behemoth," Pentaghast replied, "You were able to communicate with it, and what it said... Mages controlling those addicted to red lyrium puts the Templar Order's schism in a whole new context."
She glared at my Tevinter brothers-in-law.
"The whole thing may have been a conspiracy from Minrathous," she stated matter-of-factly, "By forces the Archon can deny."
Marcus and Quintus looked unsuitably amused by this. "The southern Chantry needs no help from us to destroy itself," Marcus replied, "And the word of one corrupted pirate on the edge of death does not a conspiracy make."
Pentaghast opened her mouth to retort, but Trevelyan got there first.
"They're right," she said to the Seeker, "It isn't enough evidence."
She turned to me. "Which is why we need more to find out what is really happening," Trevelyan concluded. With that said, she produced a document from a leather tube at her side, and offered it to me.
I recognised its paper had been made in Hercinia from its particular hue, in one of our factories. Frowning, I gently took it from her hand and unrolled it. Its contents were unbelievable, and my jaw clenched so hard on reading that I thought my teeth might break.
"What is it?" Armen asked, worriedly.
Calming myself, I remembered the old maxim about reasons of state. And it wasn't like Ianto was going to be cooperative. He would suffer regardless.
"We're to take Ianto alive," I said coldly, "And hand him over to the Inquisition for questioning."
"Bullshit!" McNulty replied, "After what he did to our people in the Gallows? To you and the younger de Villars?"
The entire Trojan military viewed the taking of the Gallows by the pirates to be a stain on our national honour and their professionalism, even those officers that had nothing to do with the defence of the fortress.
I inhaled, before offering him the document over the table. "It's got Tam's seal on it," I said, "Means she approved of it."
"What in the fucking Void would make her do that?" Armen asked, incredulously.
"Your Empress is a reasonable woman," Vivienne cut in, "She understands that this alliance will only work if intelligence on all aspects of the current crisis are shared."
"Assuming you'll get anything out of him," Armen said.
I scratched my chin in thought, before concluding that my companion was incorrect on that.
"The man has a lot to answer for," I stated, "What guarantees do I have that you won't just release him in return for the information you want? Ianto is not a true follower of Corypheus or I'm the star quarterback for the Pats. He'll make you an offer and he'll keep his word on it."
The Inquisition, Tevinter and Trojans all didn't get my football reference, save for Armen, who perked up with a smile at the sign that I was not in the foulest mood.
"Corypheus is not someone you want as an enemy," Trevelyan replied, "Even Ianto has reason to fear him. So he will give up just enough to not be harmed, waiting to see who wins. But we won't allow that wait to be comfortable. He will spend his time in a cell in Skyhold until his usefulness has passed. Then he will face trial."
That helped me to understand why Tam was all for this deal. The Inquisition did not have a Bill of Rights. Troy did, now that it had a constitution. It meant I could kill him, but not torture him. Tam most definitely wanted him tortured. There was one issue left though.
"Trial in Troy?" I asked.
Trevelyan shook her head. "Trial by the Inquisition," she replied, "Yours isn't the only realm he has committed crimes against, and all the others have delegated the trial of Corypheus' supporters to me."
Seeing no way out of this order, I finally accepted it. Besides, it wasn't like the guy to come in quietly, killing him might be a necessity in the course of things.
"Very well," I sighed, "I acknowledge that this is a legal order from the Empress-President. Order doesn't say anything about you coming along though. You can stay here and listen in while the operation is in progress."
The Inquisitor shook her head. "We're going with you," she said, "We can handle ourselves."
"And we don't trust you," Vivienne added, "It would be all too easy for you to say that Ianto resisted and was killed before he could be captured."
A wide, shit-eating grin broke out on my face. "Funny, I hadn't thought of that," I said slowly, "You have a cynical mind, Madame de Fer."
Vivienne's own lips curled back in a smile, one that said 'I know you're bullshitting'.
"So it's agreed," Pentaghast said.
"No, it's not," I retorted, "There's a reason I have only brought men along, and that's because Ianto is the sort of shit that breeds people as slaves for specific purposes."
I pointed to the primitive map of town.
"He also seems to have a mage capable of a siren call," I stated, "He drew thousands of troops closer with a magical illusion. You're vulnerable to that, especially in the close quarters of the rubbled town." I drew my finger along the main streets.
They didn't seem convinced, merely looking at me like I was making an excuse so I could kill Ianto. So I went all in. "And I'll let you in on a secret; my magical immunity can be inherited. I'm not willing to accept the risk of all of us being drugged up to be bred like cattle."
The Madame de Fer and the Inquisitor both grimaced in disgust. To the both of them, I was something like the Anti-Christ or Maferath, so the situation I described was as close to Hell on Thedas as they could get. Pentaghast managed to remain stoic, at least.
"Yeah, that's exactly the sort of asshole we're dealing with," I continued, "We are nothing but resources to Ianto. No need to give him opportunities to grab more valuable ones."
But whatever hopes I had of them finding that nasty enough to change their minds about coming along were dashed quickly.
"We knew all of that already," Pentaghast said, unflinchingly, "As the Inquisitor said, we can handle ourselves. If you are going, we must go, to assure accidents do not happen on purpose. Lady Vivienne's explanation was sufficient reason on its own."
Trevelyan gave her a pained look, as if to say she would've preferred to reconsider after hearing what I had said, but apparently the intelligence Ianto had on controlling red lyrium addicts was too good. They couldn't take the chance I'd kill the son of a bitch out of hand.
"If I might make another point, your logic also dictates that you stay behind, General," Vivienne said, "You are the most valuable resource of all to this savage. The Inquisitor has assembled some of the most capable combatants in the world. You are safer with us than without, if you must go yourself."
"I am also the only trained soldier on this world immune to magic," I replied, "And we know Ianto has mages to spare."
Telling that they wouldn't let this go, and that they would probably run back through the eluvians to complain to Tam about it, I gave in. She might have told them to go climb a tree of course, but the Inquisition's top people weren't allowed in Troy at all. There was no way I was going to pull her away from work, baby time or Julie time to traipse to the Crossroads for this..
"But it's your funeral," I shrugged, "Best call the rest of your retinue though. We expect heavy resistance going in tonight."