Chapter 74: A Dying Man
Shayle led the wardens to an old dwarven barrier door; one of the few that led to the surface. Once upon a time, it had opened up into a trader's camp, a camp that had closed when Kadash Thaig had fell to the darkspawn centuries ago.
It was all gone now, just a crumbling ruin slowly being washed away by the wind and the rain.
The golem looked at the ruins with a sense of loss, for the first time in her existence, she remembered her past, and though…though she was grateful, she also felt regret and sadness for the first time.
It was strange experience, but one she found herself grateful for.
She had seen the others mourn the loss of friends and loved ones and had not understood, in fact she had been disgusted by all the leaking and blubbering.
Now, now she saw the value of it.
Mother, Father, her cousins…they were all gone now, dust in the shadows of Kadash Thaig.
Knowing that they had lived and died in that place…that they had died and there had been nothing she could do to stop it.
That knowledge…it…it hurt.
Now she knew why the dirty knight had cried that first night she had been in their camp. She knew what it meant to cry and why, but…
The golem sighed heavily.
It was something she could never do, but that did not stop her from understanding.
It was just another reason to feel superior for being a golem.
She could not be sad, not like the fleshy creatures, but she could fight, and destroy the darkspawn who had destroyed her past.
That thought pleased her.
She would not get sad.
She would get even.
That was better than being sad.
IOI
Alim was the last of their group to leave the Thaig. He took a few of the others and went back into the Thaig to inform Brosca and his men they were not going to return to Orzammar with them.
It was the least he could do for them, they had got them this far. He owed them at least that small courtesy.
The dwarves had been good allies, he hoped to see them again when they finally marched against the Archdemon. Brosca had also impressed him, the young warrior was more than the common thug he pretended to be, there…there was a fire in him, a desire to be better.
Perhaps when this was over, if they were all still alive, Alim would see about making the young dwarf a Grey Warden.
Alim suspected that he would be more than up to handling the load.
Once the last of their party had left the Thaig, Shayle showed Seri how to seal the way behind them, the last of the Kadash dwarves had given their lives to keep the darkspawn from breaching this entrance.
The golem intended to see it remained sealed, not just for their group's safety, but to honor her clansmen slain so long ago.
Alim understood what the golem was feeling. That she wanted to remain true to her people's legacy, and the promise she had made when she agreed to become a golem.
Was her sacrifice any less than his when he had become a warden, true he was still him, but they had both dedicated themselves to a life of service.
Of course she had chosen her path willingly, had Jowan not done what he had, would I still be here?
Alim could not answer that question, if was…difficult.
The elf regarded their surrounding clinically, they had elevation, and the trees shielded them from view from below, they would be able to make a fire without being seen for leagues.
Yes, this place would do nicely.
"Break out the tents," he said, "We will rest here for the night."
Quickly his fellows went about their business; practice had made this operation old hat by now.
Everyone knew their jobs by now.
Alistair came up beside him.
"Where to now?" he asked his fellow warden.
The elf sighed.
That was a very good question.
Where did they go from here?
IOI
Alim shrugged.
"We have the treaties completed," he said thoughtfully, "Perhaps it is time that we considered heading to Redcliffe. The nobles Ferelden will no longer be able to deny that we at least have a chance to oppose the Archdemon now. The dwarves, the mages and the Dalish are nothing to sneeze at. Plus, when we spoke back in the Korcari Wilds you mentioned that you lived in Redcliffe castle for a time."
Alistair nodded, but his stance turned…uncomfortable.
"For a time," he admitted, "But I don't know what kind of reception we will receive there. I…I was not very popular there."
Really," Alim said with a twitch of his ears, "What did you do that made you unpopular?"
Alistair rubbed his neck nervously.
"It…um…It is not what I did as a matter of…"
"Alim!"
Theron's cry interrupted Alistair, an interruption the knight was actually quite grateful for.
He sighed with relief as Alim ran to see what the Dalish wanted.
Saved, he thought…
…For now.
IOI
Theron led them deeper into the woods, Kally and Zevran at his side, in the failing light, what the humans called twilight, the superior night vision of the elves gave them a decided advantage.
Alim motioned to their allies to hold up, he appreciated the strength his fellows brought with them, but in the forests, it was the elvhen that had the advantage.
Whether city born or Dalish, all elves were children of the green wood, it was in their blood their very souls.
He felt it; of course, being touched by the ancient stormbreaker had helped with that. Zev's Crow training allowed him to move silently and Kally's mother had taught her skills that made her as silent as she was dangerous.
Theron, being the seasoned hunter that he was, led the way, as silent as a shadow; the Dalish warden led them to a small outcropping overlooking a small clearing.
Soldiers, seven of them, they had a man in a dirty shirt and trousers surrounded. The man was gray haired but still appeared strong. Alim was not sure where, but the man looked familiar.
Where had he seen him before?
Alim ducked down. He did not recognize the men's shields, but that did not matter.
Their little group might be suspected for bandits, Alim had no desire to spill blood without purpose.
He pricked his ears to listen.
Angry voices filled the clearing. The captain of the soldiers was demanding that the man tell him where IT was.
The prisoner, for that was what Alim thought he was, refused to answer. He shook his head emphatically.
The captain insisted.
The prisoner told him to go to the void!
The he spit in the man's face!
The captain gasped, he wiped at his face.
Then…He snarled with fury. Before the prisoner could move, he had drawn a dagger and shoved it through the prisoner's gut.
The air rushed out of him as he fell to the ground.
Alim winced.
The poor man, he had not had a chance, but…this was not there fight. They could not go…
An angry shout drew his attention.
Fire rained down on the soldiers.
Wynne stood on a rock shouting with fury.
Damn it, Alim thought, what is the old fool doing?!
One of the warriors tried to charge her.
Theron popped up, he put an arrow through the man's throat.
Alim cursed under his breath.
So much for staying hidden.
"No one escapes!" he shouted, "We can't have them reporting back! No mercy!"
Shayle lumbered into the clearing, fists swinging, a dark she wolf that could only be Morrigan joined her, ripping out the captain's throat.
A young private tried to escape, he dove into the bushes, crawling on his hands and knees, trying to escape unnoticed.
Zevran leapt fell upon him like a spider on a fly. He landed hard on the boy's back, his knees pinning his shoulders into the ground.
"Sorry lad," the assassin smirked, "But the warden said no survivors."
"Nooo," the boy whimpered, "Ple…"
Zev did not let him finish.
He cut the boy's throat.
From her perch where she covered them with her bow, Leliana shivered.
She understood why Alim had given such an order; they had encountered enough Loghain bounty hunters in the last few months.
No reason giving those any more ideas where they might be headed next.
It was cold and harsh, yes, but it was also necessary.
Death happened sometimes…
…it was the Maker's will.
IOI
Alim searched the shadows for any stragglers, finding none; he turned his attention to the one person responsible for this blood bath.
"What were you thinking Wynne?" he demanded, "I gave no order to attack!"
The elder mage ignored him. She made for the dying prisoner.
"Wynne I'm talking to you!" Alim growled.
"I heard you," the old woman said, "Once I've saved this man's life I will happily explain."
Alim shook his head.
He followed after Wynne, hoping that whatever her reason for trying to help this man was worth it.
Wynne kneeled at the man's side.
"Lay still Elric," she whispered, "I will have you fixed up in a minute."
The man chuckled weakly, a chuckle that turned into a series of wracking coughs.
"It…it is too late," he sputtered, "Too late for me!"
Alim reached out with his warden senses.
His eyes widened.
"Wynne get back!" he ordered, "Don't touch him!"
The elder mage froze when Alim summoned a small ball of light.
The prisoner, Elric she had called him, was already dead. His eyes were milky white, black sores covered his neck and face.
He was clearly in the final stages of the Blight sickness.
There was nothing that they could do.
The soldier that had stabbed him had only hastened his end. It was a mercy in a way.
He hated it, but the man was beyond magic now, even Wynne's.
She sighed heavily.
She realized that he was right.
Elric looked up at Alim, he smiled weakly.
"It…it is you," he coughed, "The elf warden from Ostagar!"
Alim nodded.
Wynne sighed heavily.
"Alim of the grey wardens," she said, "Allow me to introduce you to Elric Maraigne, a member of the King Cailan's honor guard."
The elf's eyes widened, that is where he had seen the man before! The strategy session, the man had been in armor then, but he had been standing near King Cailan when the man had been chewing out Loghain.
The elf shook his head, how had the man ended up here in the Frostbacks?
Elric sighed heavily.
"It seems that the Maker has not abandoned me after all," the dying man said, "If it is wardens that are here to see me in my final hour. There…there is still a chance I might be able to do something good with it."
Alistair came up beside them. He had not spoken with Elric Maraigne before, but Duncan had, and Alistair remembered him.
"I…I had," the man coughed violently, black blood splattered the ground, somehow he regained the ability to speak.
"I had not expected Bann Loren's men to be so persistent, but at least they did not get it. I still can honor our King's memory."
The dying man smiled.
"Maybe it is better this way," he said, "Better than rotting in Bann Loren's prison, or being hung as a deserter."
Alim's ears twitched.
"You deserted?" he asked.
"People probably say the same about you and me Lim," Alistair reminded him, "If not worse."
The elf nodded.
Ali had a good point.
"You," Elric gasped, "You were at Ostagar! You saw how it happened! Maker save us, we were doomed from the very beginning! Even Cailan, for all his bravado must have known there would be no victory that night! I…when Loghain betrayed us, I…I ran. I left them, my men, my King. I left them and they died suffering."
Alim placed a small hand on the man's chest.
"We don't always get to choose when and where we die," the elf said sagely.
"True enough," Elric groaned, "But I can still make my death worth something. Cailan…he…he trusted me with the key to the royal arms chest. I was…I was to get it to the wardens if anything went wrong!"
Alim's ears twitched.
"What is so special about this chest?" he asked.
"The documents," the dying man coughed, "The correspondence between Cailan and the Orlesians, if you still want the Orlesians help…you will need those documents."
Alim snorted with amusement.
More treaties, he thought…wonderful.
"Those documents," Elric said, "They cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. We owe Cailan that much!"
"Where is this chest," Alim asked.
"Still in Ostagar," the man responded.
Alim turned pale.
"And the key, do you still have it on you?"
Elric chuckled and coughed.
"If I had, it would be in Bann Loren's hands by now. No, I hid it in the King's camp, I…I made a map, it is hidden in my left boot."
Alim glared at the man.
"Let me get this straight," he said, "You want us to go back to Ostagar, fight our way past the horde, and all to get some papers, papers that the darkspawn have likely used to wipe their asses with by now?"
"The chest, it was designed to hold, without the key…the spawn would not have been able to open it. Would they have even understand how the locks work…I…I find that…doubtful?"
Wynne sniffed.
"The darkspawn are far more cunning than we give them credit for," she stated.
"Please," Elric gasped, his voice becoming more desperate, "You can't leave those documents in darkspawn hands. They must be recovered, the same for the rest of the King's other arms and armor. They are too valuable to be left to those…those creatures. You…you must retrieve them, for Ferelden!"
Alim snorted.
Considering how Ferelden had treated him lately that was not a very convincing argument.
Still, the chance of getting Orlesian help, was that not worth the risk?
The elf shook his head.
"I will find the chest," he promised the dying man.
The man smiled weakly.
"Thank you…thank you war…war…"
The man gasped, his body convulsed weakly, a rattle emerged from his throat.
His eyes seemed to look past Alim, fixed on some point beyond.
Then…then…he was gone.
Alim sighed; he reached down and closed the man's eyes.
Poor bastard.
Wynne bowed her head.
Andraste guide you Elric Maraigne," she whispered.
"Maker watch over you," the elf whispered.
Shaking his head, the elf rose, he wiped his hands on his trousers.
Ostagar, they would have to go back to Ostagar.
The elf's ears twitched nervously.
He had never wanted to see that foul place again, but…if they were to get those documents, what choice did they have?
Alistair gave his fellow warden a cool look.
"You will be taking me with you I trust," he said, "Forgive me for saying, but I left some darkspawn behind that really deserve a sword through the middle."
"Indeed," Wynne said, "The events of Ostagar still haunt me wardens. If that is where we are going, I would like to be there as well."
Alim sighed; it seemed he would have no shortage of volunteers for this mission.
Lucky me, he thought.
Sometimes he felt like he was the only sane one left in the group.
Either that or he was simply the King of the Mad.
Lucky me.
He looked around at the dead soldiers. The others were slowly coming down into the clearing, had they heard what had passed between him and Elric Maraigne? Would they come as well if they had?
Did he even want them to?
The elf sighed heavily, it seemed that he had little choice, but they would not be making such a journey tonight.
He gestured to the dead soldiers.
"Search the bodies," he ordered, "Take anything that we might need, and then everyone back to camp."
Alim rose wiping off his sword.
It would be necessary that they all got some rest.
They still had a long road ahead…
…A very long road indeed.