Chapter 92: Unfinished Business
The wardens decided to split up, so that they could accomplish their tasks more quickly.
Alistair had, at first, questioned the wisdom of that. There was strength in numbers after all. Denerim was not the safest place for a warden to be after all, especially with the price on their heads.
Alim normally would have agreed with him, but the circumstances he described were the also the exact reasons they needed to split up. Denerim was a hostile city to them; the quicker they were out of here the better, before any of Loghain's men realized that they were here.
Theron came to the mage's support with this reasoning. He had seen how quickly Loghain's forces had destroyed the warden compound in the palace.
He had no intention of getting caught in such a trap again.
Alistair shook his head, he still did not like it, but…he also saw no real alternative.
The longer they were here, the more likely someone might notice them and report it to the guard, and then they would be done.
Finally the former Templar agreed, begrudgingly.
That matter being settled, Alim split them into two teams. Alistair and Theron would go and seek out Brother Genitivi, try to learn what the chantry scholar knew about Andraste's Ashes. Meanwhile, Alim and Leliana would go seek out her former mentor, the bard master Marjolaine.
It made perfect sense to him that they deal with the Orlesian woman. She had already sent assassins once after Leliana, who was to say she would not try it again, and besides.
Alim's ears lowered slightly with anger.
No one hurt Leli, not while he was around.
The group agreed to rendezvous at the Gnawed Noble Tavern at the toll of the dinner bell this evening that gave them plenty of time to fulfill both their missions. Once that was done, they would leave Denerim together, hopefully with both a treacherous bard master off their backs, and a course to Andraste's sacred ashes.
At least, that was the outcome that Alim hoped most for.
Wynne, Seri and Oghren agreed to go with Alim, which left Zev, Morrigan, Fergus, and Kally to join Alistair's team. Bandit of course chose to go with his master, like any good Mabari would.
With the teams all settled the group split up and began their search. Teagan's directions to Genitivi's home pointed to a small side street near the Alienage. Which likely explained why Kally wanted to go with Alistair; the elf had not seen her family since her arrest months ago. She no doubt wanted to check on them and make sure that they were all okay.
Alim glanced at the small group assembled before him. Part of him wondered if he had enough people. From what Leliana had said, this Marjolaine was extremely clever, and quite ruthless.
She had to suspect that her former charge would come for her, and had likely taken steps to prepare for their next meeting.
Alim's brow furrowed. He found himself hoping that he was not making a mistake. If this Marjolaine realized who it was that Leliana was travelling with, she might have already alerted Loghain's men, she might have even sought to collect the warden bounty herself.
Leliana dismissed such fear.
From what she had seen of Loghain the man did not seem the type to ally with any Orlesians. He likely would have had her old master hung as a spy if she made herself known in his court.
In this, Loghain's paranoia would work in their favor.
So a few hours later they found themselves walking down one of Denerim's many side streets, as neglected and dirty as any other side street that Alim had ever seen.
Leliana led the way, having stayed in Marjolaine's safe house here in Denerim several years earlier.
Alim found himself watching his love, his beautiful bard. Her expression was so…intense, never had he seen her so ready for violence.
It saddened him, truth be told.
Last night, as they had lain together he found himself watching her, her sweet face so free of the stresses of the day, her pale skin in the moonlight.
He…he would not deny it, what that bastard at the Tavern had said had gotten to him. All those insecurities growing up in the tower, the fears of being a too short elf with two big ears, all the young apprentice girls who had mocked him, it had all come flooding back in that one moment.
Part of him wanted to go back to the tower, to rub what he and Leli had in all their faces. That he…Alim Surana had a lover, and she was beautiful. He knew how childish it was…but that did not stop him from feeling that way.
He was after all…only mortal.
There had been a moment last eve that Leli's brow had furrowed, she had begun to moan and murmur in her sleep, he had held her, soothed her, but knew that what she had experienced was likely more than a simple nightmare.
He suspected that the visions had returned again.
She had not spoken of it this morning, which meant that it likely had no bearing on what they were doing here and now, but in time he knew that she would tell him. She knew that she could trust him.
She knew that he would listen.
He wrinkled his nose as they passed by yet another hovel. He looked over at her.
"You've been this way before?" he inquired.
She nodded.
"Marjolaine brought me here for some…fun," she hesitated at the last word, clearly not seeing what they had done back then as fun anymore.
"We were supposed to show the Fereldans that Orlais still knew how to command the game," she added with a shake of her head, "Our fun ended with one of Marjolaine's blades in my side."
Alim's ears lowered slightly.
"That bitch," he growled.
She chuckled.
"Do not let her distract you Alim," she said, "Marjolaine is a master at playing people. She will have you thinking that up is down if you let her get into your head. She…she is a very skilled player of the game."
Alim snorted.
"I'm not here to play games with her," he said, "I'm here to kill her for what she tried to do to you."
Leliana winced; she knew where this would lead, what revenge over her old mentor meant.
She murmured a prayer for their souls, for all their souls. Even Marjolaine's…
We're the same.
The bard shivered.
They all would likely need it.
IOI
"Brother Genitivi, I presume?"
Alistair's words made the small man cringe, his dark skin marked him of likely Rivaini blood, and the coal smudges on his fingers marked him as a scholar, one who spent a lot of time with his papers.
The former Templar had thought that they had found Brother Genitivi.
Alas they were wrong.
"My name is Weylon good ser," the scholar said with a slight bow, "I…I have not seen brother Genitivi in weeks, it…it is so not like him."
Alistair forced down the urge to curse. The poor man looked like a deer cornered by a pack of wolves. Morrigan was glaring at him, and Theron shifted uncomfortably sniffing the air.
Alistair felt his own nose wrinkle, the sickening sweet smell of rot from somewhere in the house, likely some food abandoned, considering the disarray of the dinner table in the corner.
The scholar likely did not clean his home much.
"You have no reason to fear my good man," Alistair said trying to assure him, "We are here on behalf of Arl Eamon of Redcliffe. We seek an audience with your master."
Weylon lowered his head.
"Then I fear that you will be disappointed," the man said, "I have not heard from the brother since he left for Lake Calenhad weeks ago, I fear that something bad might have happened."
Morrigan smirked at the man.
"Truly," she purred, "And just how can you justify such statement? Perhaps the old fool has simply lost track of time, and does not wish to waste his energies communing with a fool of a servant."
"Morrigan," Alistair spat.
"I cannot say what is going on with the Brother Milady, as I said he has sent no word since he began his journey to Lake Calenhad."
"What did the brother tell you shem?" Theron asked, "Why did he head to the lake?"
"To continue his research I imagine," Weylon replied, "Everything in his writing pointed to him seeking information in that area."
The man's statement made Alistair's brow furrow.
"You said you found evidence in Brother Genitivi's work that he was heading to Lake Calenhad?"
"Yes sir."
"Then why did you have look? He told you he was staying there did he not?"
"Of course," Weylon replied, "I merely searched his notes when he sent no word. I hoped to find some evidence of where he had gone since he left."
Alistair considered what the man said, but still, something in the way the man looked, the way he was sweating.
Far more than he should have been even with so many armed people in his home, Alistair would not blame anyone for being scared, but…
They had made no threatening moves, and yet…
The man looked frightened for some reason…
Frightened…
…and perhaps a little guilty.
"We need to find the ashes," Alistair said, "Arl Eamon grows sicker by the day."
"Please ser," Weylon said his eyes widening, "Do not ask me where, I…I told those men, the knights from Redcliffe, where he has gone, and now they have disappeared as well. I…I wish no harm to come upon you and these other brave souls."
Morrigan's smile turned downright shark like.
"Were you close to the knights then, servant?"
"Of course not."
"Then how do you know that they have vanished? It is not like they would send you word of their continued good health? Would they not?"
The man swallowed hard.
"I am only inferring good woman," he replied, "Brother Genitivi clearly must have fallen to misfortune so I can only guess that the knights have as well!"
Alistair did not respond. He found himself watching the man closely. Normally he would have jumped on his lover for being rude, but the points she had made were all relevant.
And Weylon was not doing anything to make him think otherwise.
Alistair's expression became grimmer.
Morrigan might call him a fool, but he knew when something wasn't right.
He knew enough to recognize when someone was lying to him.
Theron's ears twitched.
"What in the Creators' names is that smell?" he asked.
Weylon took an exaggerated sniff.
"I smell nothing," he said.
The Dalish's ears lowered, his eyes flashed.
"You would have had to cut off your nose not to smell that foulness human, the scent of death and rot."
Kally nodded, she and Fergus began to step away from the group, if they needed to flank the scholar's assistant.
"It is just a bit of food I fear ser," Weylon chuckled, "I'm a horrible housekeeper."
Morrigan snorted.
"You are a terrible liar as well little man, at least with people with eyes to see and ears to hear."
Theron glared at the man.
"Tell me human, why do you wish us to go to the Tavern on Lake Calenhad?"
"I never said for you to go to the Spoiled Princess," Weylon responded.
The Dalish smirked.
"And how do you know the Tavern's name. Genitivi could have told you I suppose, but I am more inclined to think it was your friends."
"My friends?" Weylon shrugged, "I do not know what you mean?"
"The men who were attacking the knights outside of the Spoiled Princess," Theron clarified his temper starting to flare, "The ones who tried to kill me."
He shot the man a cold glare.
"They cannot help you now Shem," he growled, "We took care of them weeks ago. You have no one else to trap us in that place, so drop the act, and tell us what is going on?"
Weylon looked as if he was about to make yet another denial, but in the end sighed and chuckled.
"My poor brothers," he said dreamily, "May Andraste offer them every reward in the afterlife."
Alistair drew his sword.
"Enough," the former Templar growled, "Who are you, and where is Brother Genitivi?"
Weylon gave them all a cruel smirk.
"I am a servant of Andraste," he said, "May she rise up my soul, and cast all of yours into oblivion."
The scholar raised his hands.
"FOR ANDRASTE!"
Lightning leapt from his fingertips.
Alistair raised his shield just in time.
Weylon fell back snarling with fury, he pulled a dagger from his belt and cut his hand.
Blood began to rise, and whip around him.
Alistair reached out and smited the apostate, sending him flying back across the room.
The blow must have hurt like Andraste's pyre, but still "Weylon tried to fight back, he tried to throw himself at Alistair with his dagger.
A wave of frigid cold washed over the wounded man, he froze solid mid lunge.
He hit the floor hard, his frozen body shattering like a piece of glass.
The former Templar looked at her; she shrugged, not feeling any desire to apologize for killing the mage before he could be questioned further.
Alistair cursed under his breath…
…So much for getting directions from brother Genitivi.
The group searched the small home, looking for any evidence of where the Brother might have gone after leaving Denerim.
They found two things.
The first was an old hand drawn map of the mountain passes near Redcliffe, Alistair recognized then from his time there as a boy, it pointed to a small x-mark, and the name Haven on it next to a question mark.
The second discovery was in an old chest in Weylon's bedroom, the source of the stench that the elves had smelt.
A long decaying body, dressed in clothes similar to the mage.
Alistair's eyes narrowed.
It seemed that they had found Brother Genitivi's assistant, his true assistant.
It appeared that they had found Weylon.
IOI
Leliana opened the door to the old bardic safe house that she had stayed in almost three years ago now.
She nearly died for her trouble.
Two large Qunari bodyguards lunged from their positions near the door.
She rolled forward, avoiding a strike from a heavy maul, and spun ready to meet the next attack, daggers at the ready.
She need not have bothered.
Bandit leapt at one of them, tearing out the large man's throat.
Alim ducked the second man's attack and got inside his defenses.
The elf touched the man's chest plate.
The Qunari screamed as lightning danced over his heavy armor. It did not take long for the man to perish.
The room fell silent.
Leliana glanced around, looking for the next attack.
She saw none.
As she looked at her surrounding, she was struck by a strange sensation of nostalgia, she found herself remembering her old partners, Sketch and Tug. They had come to Ferelden too…
When Marjolaine betrayed her, she also betrayed them. Tug lost his life, and Sketch fled to Maker knew where.
Leliana's eyes narrowed.
And all because of Marjolaine, her old master, her…her old lover.
She would not deny it, she had loved Marjolaine once, she was so worldly, the young girl that Leliana had been had been dazzled.
Now that she knew the truth, she was not so eager to give up her heart anymore.
It was a small miracle that Alim had managed to break through her defenses.
A small miracle indeed.
She glanced at the closed door before them, the one leading to the sitting room.
She could hear the sound of a lute, and the gentle singing of a woman's voice, a voice she had never thought to hear again.
Marjolaine.
We're the same.
A wave of terror washed over her, she remembered all that she had suffered two years ago and her former master's hands…
…Part of her feared to put herself at such risk again.
Alim came up beside her and put a loving hand on her shoulder.
"I'm here for you," he promised.
He gave her a cruel smile.
"Let's finish this together."
Leliana nodded, she took a deep breath and mustered her courage.
She swallowed hard, trying not to think of the past, not of Tug or Sketch, or Dorothea, or any of it.
She put her hand on the knob.
The woman's singing intensified.
The young bard turned the knob.
The music stopped.
Leliana…opened the door.