Our trip back to Redcliffe was uneventful, save a couple more encounters with darkspawn; Neria and Alistair's darkspawn-warning senses are coming in handy more often these days. I've been practising my magic barriers with Wynne just in case, and I can even make them wider now to cover someone standing beside me, as well as myself. Wynne says that's impressive, for my age.
We waste no time once we arrive at Redcliffe castle; this time, I'm even allowed to come along, on the condition that I stay with the group and don't speak when the nobles are talking. Redcliffe's resident mage places the ashes over Arl Eamon's forehead, and does some more healing magic. It looks like normal healing to me, so it follows that the Ashes really do work, because the arl wakes up almost straight away, blinking blearily at the small crowd we've formed around his bed.
"Wh-Where am I?" He mumbles.
"Be calm, brother," Bann Teagan reassures him. "You have been deathly ill for a very long time. Do you remember nothing?"
"Teagan? What are you doing here? Where is Isolde?"
Isolde perches on the side of the bed. "I am here, my husband."
"And Connor? Where is my boy? Where is our son?"
"He lives…" Lady Isolde smiles sadly. "Though many others are dead. There is much to tell you, husband."
"Dead? Then… it was not a dream?"
Bann Teagan nods. "Much has happened since you fell ill, brother. Some of it will not be easy for you to hear. It is harder still, to say."
The Arl struggles to sit up in bed, his body stiff from not moving for so long. "Then tell me. I wish to hear all of it. Help me out of this bed, Isolde, we should have this conversation in the Main Hall, not at my bedside."
"You need rest, husband," Isolde protests, but Arl Eamon is determined, so we wait in the Main Hall while he gets ready. Lady Isolde is already filling him in on what happened when they join us, the Arl's face solemn.
Bann Teagan tells him everything; about Connor's magic abilities, Lady Isolde's attempts to keep it a secret to prevent her son from being taken to the Circle, her secret hiring of Jowan to be his tutor. Then, Connor's possession by the demon after he made a deal with it to save his ill father, Isolde blaming Jowan and having him imprisoned and interrogated, and Neria and the party's arrival in Redcliffe. Teagan explains how Neria and the others rallied both citizens and their troops to defend the village against the nightly onslaught of undead creatures, and their brave infiltration of the castle to save its surviving inhabitants, as well as Connor himself.
Teagan also credits Jowan with the idea to save Connor by having someone enter the Fade itself to confront the demon, with the help of the Circle mages. Neria herself had gone in and defeated the demon, freeing Connor from its control. Many villagers have been killed by the undead, and many more still, those who worked in the castle, had become the undead themselves. Finally, Teagan tells the Arl that Jowan confessed to poisoning him, on Loghain's orders, and that Neria and our party had successfully sought out the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and that it was a pinch of these Ashes that had brought him back from the brink of death.
"I think that just about covers everything, brother," Teagan says.
The Arl looks almost as pale as he did before we brought the Ashes. "This is most troubling. There is much to be done, that is true. But I should first be thankful to those who have done so much. Grey Warden, you and your companions have not only saved my life but kept my family and my people safe as well. I am in your debt. Will you permit me to offer you a reward for your service?"
Neria shakes her head. "I only need your help against the Blight, your grace, that is all," she answers politely.
But the Arl won't take no for an answer. "I understand, but regardless of your motivations, I feel you are worthy of a reward, and I will honour your efforts. Allow me to declare you and your companions champions of Redcliffe. You will always be welcome guests within these halls. And for you, Warden Neria, I bequeath a shield of the same make as those that have been given to our finest knights," he announces, waving a knight forward with the shield in hand.
The knight takes one look at Neria's stature and wisely passes the shield for Alistair to hold. "Thank you, your grace," Neria says, giving a quick bow.
"We should speak of Loghain, brother," Bann Teagan says impatiently. "There is no telling what he will do once he learns of your recovery."
"Loghain instigates a civil war even though the darkspawn are on our very doorstep. Long have I known him. He is a sensible man; one who never desired power," the Arl muses.
"I was there when he announced he was taking control of the throne, Eamon. He was mad with ambition, I tell you."
"Mad indeed. Mad enough to kill our nephew Cailan, mad enough to attempt to kill me and destroy my lands. Whatever changed in him, Loghain must be stopped. What's more, we can scarce afford to fight this war to its bitter end."
"What do you propose then, your grace?" Neria asks. Arl Eamon thinks for a moment.
"We have no time to wage a campaign against him. Someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have any chance at fighting the darkspawn."
"But once everyone learns what he's done…?" Neria presses.
"I will spread word of Loghain's treachery, both here and against the king. But it will be but a claim without proof. Those claims will give Loghain's allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge he cannot ignore. We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain's daughter, Queen Anora," Eamon explains, staring into the fireplace.
"Are you referring to Alistair, brother? Are you certain?" Teagan queries.
Alistair? Is he talking about our Alistair? I look to our resident Alistair, who looks disturbed. Maker, he does mean this Alistair. How does he have a claim to the throne, of all people?
"You intend to put Alistair forward as king?" Neria asks. Her expression is serious, but not surprised.
"Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but we would seem opportunists, no better than Loghain. Alistair's claim is by blood."
How?
Alistair crosses his arms over his chest. "And what about me? Does anyone care what I want?"
"You have a responsibility, Alistair," Eamon says sternly. "Without you, Loghain wins. I would have to support him, for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?"
Alistair struggles with this. "I…but I…no, my lord," he concedes.
"I see only one way to proceed," Eamon continues. "I will call for a Landsmeet; a gathering of all of Ferelden's nobility, in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another. Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin. What say you to that, Warden Neria? I do not wish to proceed without your blessing."
Neria worries her lip anxiously. "If you think it will work… I say we proceed with your plan."
"Then it is decided; I will send out the word. But before we proceed, I believe there is the matter of the mage…my son's tutor. He still lives, I understand."
Bann Teagan nods. "He does. He is in the dungeon, brother."
"Have him brought here, Teagan. I wish to see him."
Two knights go and come back with Jowan in chains within a few minutes. Jowan notices me and his eyes widen; I stare back at him, willing him not to say or do anything that would give me away, and hope that no one notices his obvious recognition of me. Then the knights stand him in front of the arl and I'm out of his line of sight.
"Jowan. What you have done is not in question. You tried to assassinate me and set into motion a catastrophic series of events that nearly destroyed everything I cherish. What have you to say in your defence?"
"Nothing, my lord… other than to say I am sorry. I expect no mercy for what I have done," Jowan bows his head.
"I see. Grey Warden, have you anything to say on Jowan's behalf?"
"He…seems earnest in his desire to repent, your grace," Neria says.
"And what would you have me do? As the injured party, my ability to see the merciful path is… strained," Arl Eamon admits, practically glowering at Jowan.
Neria doesn't answer at first, but when she does, her voice is thick. "He… deserves no mercy, your grace," she says, voice cracking.
What? But…
"Then there is nothing more to say. Jowan, I hereby sentence you to death. May the Maker show you the mercy we cannot."
"Thank you, my lord," Jowan says. "And… goodbye, my friend," he adds sincerely, to Neria. As the knights lead him back downstairs, he mouths 'I'm sorry' at me. I want to cry out in protest, but I can't give myself away. I take a shaky deep breath and try to look as unaffected as possible.
"Now, back to the matter of the Landsmeet," Eamon says. "It will take some time to recall my forces and organise our allies. I would prefer to wait until that is done before calling the Landsmeet."
"That is well," Neria agrees. "In the meantime, we have one more of the Grey Warden treaties to pursue. We will need all the allies we can get if we are to defeat the darkspawn horde."
