Chapter 117: The Road East
Impressive.
It was too small a word for what Alim was seeing, but never the less it was the closest one he could find to at least try and make sense of what he was seeing.
When Arl Eamon had first left Redcliffe, it had been in the company of a small contingent of soldiers and knights. The rest were still returning from the now completed quest for the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and would join them in time…
Alim had frowned at the sight, he still remembered the Teyrn's army from Ostagar, if it had endured the Civil War, and this small party of men would not be enough to give it pause.
Loghain would likely be able to crush them on the road even before they came within a hundred leagues of the capital. The Arl of Redcliffe insisted that this would not happen, that Loghain would not dare attack, not when Eamon had called the Landsmeet.
Attacking Eamon now would only weaken his position.
The Teyrn, the Arl had said, was not that foolish.
Still Alim thought, he would still preferred to have many more men at their side. Maybe it was just his cynical nature…but…
Secrecy had served them well up until this point; Eamon had all but thrown that all away by publically taking his men towards Denerim, the Banners of his family flying in the wind, his soldiers marching in step under those bright flying colors.
The elf sighed.
No one could claim that they were trying to launch a surprise attack, not with this grand party.
They continued north past the Circle tower on Lake Calenhad, only turning east when they were far beyond the reach of the norther tip of the darkspawn horde, or at least as far as they could manage.
It would be enough for now…hopefully.
Every once and a while Alim would look to the south, he could still see the dark clouds on the horizon, the rainbow colored flashes of lightning in the tainted sky.
The very thought gave him the shivers, yet still they pushed on. Closer they drew to the Capital…
Closer they drew to their enemy.
They passed several small villages, and many small estates. Most of the latter were abandoned; the nobles either caught up in the Civil war, or had already fled to coast to escape the darkspawn horde. The former were filled with crowds of panicked people, rushing back and forth gathering what they could to try and escape the great evil slowly creeping its way north.
Eamon did not stop as he passed through these small hamlets; he pushed on his eyes locked on the distant horizon, locked on distant Denerim.
It was on the second day riding east that Alim noticed what had been happening. It had been slow at first, but now…it could no longer be denied.
With each settlement or estate they passed, they gained more and more people. Knights left their holdings, armored for battle with weapons in hand. Village guards and peacekeepers also drew in close, presenting themselves to Ser Perth or the Arl himself.
In groups of five and ten, these men joined the march as well.
In less than three days since leaving the Spoiled Princess behind, the Arl's party at tripled in size, men and women eager to see to his safety, willing to do what they could to see the Civil War end.
Alim shook his head, the sight. The mere scope of what was going on around them. It…it was extraordinary!
They were no longer a nobleman and a group of his soldiers; they were a snowball rolling down the hill, a pebble whose falling preceded an avalanche.
The sight was enough to impress even the most jaded of minds.
Alim remembered when, months ago, Alistair had first suggested that Arl Eamon could aid them against the Teyrn. At the time, the elf thought it was wishful thinking, blind hope at best.
Now…seeing the forces the Arl had gathered by mere presence alone.
He chuckled.
It seemed that Alistair had been right.
The Arl was their best chance for help.
It was a good thing he wasn't a betting man, he likely would have lost a sovereign.
It was unlikely now that Loghain would be able to simply attack them, and then sweep this matter under a rug. There were too many travelling with them now, too many witnesses.
The elf smiled grimly.
Whatever happened next, it would see that the wardens would get to air their grievances before the Landsmeet. Whether they would listen however…well…
…That was another matter entirely.
IOI
The group rode past the rode leading into Highever. Fergus' eyes never left that road, not once as they passed it by. Alim rode up beside him; the knight had a cold frown on his face, his eyes flinty and angry.
"How you doing, Fergus?" he asked.
The knight clinched his horse's reigns.
"Elissa will be in Denerim," he said coldly.
The warden mage pursed his lips.
"I imagine that the will," he murmured.
Fergus' eyes narrowed.
Ove the past few days they had heard stories of Elissa Cousland from several of the knights who had joined them. In the months since the Civil War had begun, she proven herself to be one of Loghain and Howe's best lieutenants, putting down several uprisings, and leading more than a few attacks against the strongholds of those opposing the Regent.
According to those stories, few had survived those attacks.
Alim gave his friend a pitying look, he…he really did not know what to say. He could not even imagine what the poor man was going through right now.
How did you fight your own family?
Where did you even begin?
The elf gave him a brave look, or at least tried to.
"When the time comes," he promised, "We will deal with her."
The young nobleman nodded. He no doubt understood that whatever happened, it would likely be necessary to neutralize those Loghain used to inflict damage.
How far they would need to go when the time came, was completely up to the Lady Cousland, if she resisted…
The wardens would have to do what was needed.
It was at that moment that Eamon and Alistair rode up beside them, no doubt the Arl likely realized what Fergus was feeling right now.
Alistair nodded to his fellow warden. Alim returned his greeting, even though it felt strange giving it.
It the last few days, the Arl had insisted on having Alistair at his side, necessary probably considering what they were planning to do, putting the former Templar forward as Cailan's rightful heir. Still…It had left Alim and Theron marginalized. The Dalish did not seem to mind, if anything he had become more than happy to disappear into the shadows.
Alim was not so compliant.
He was grateful for the Arl's help, but that did not mean he did not want the man to simply take over their mission.
The warden mage's brow furrowed.
He had not led his friends this far, to be swept under a carpet now. He might have been both an elf and a mage, but he was still a grey warden.
That still counted for something in his eyes.
The Arl glanced his way, but said nothing, all his attention fell on Fergus, and the road leading to Highever.
He gave the young warrior a grim smile.
"Be strong, Lord Cousland," he advised, "The time will come when those who have done wrong will answer for their crimes."
Fergus glanced behind him, no doubt thinking about Highever Castle, and the horrible things that had happened their months ago.
His eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Thank you, Your Grace," he said.
Eamon nodded and rode on ahead.
Alistair and Ser Perth remained close, making sure nothing…surprising happened.
Alim's ears twitched slightly.
The Arl had barely acknowledged his presence, not surprising considering everything that had happened.
Alim had killed Connor after all, and he had saved Jowan from death.
Looking back, he felt no shame for either choice.
Jowan still had his uses; Alim had conscripted him for reasons beyond their former friendship. Jowan could be used as a witness against Loghain, he had confessed to meeting the Teyrn personally. Even if the Landsmeet did not believe the word of a blood mage, it would at least give them pause, cause them to…doubt.
Sometimes, that was all that was needed.
As for Connor, well…that had been a bad business, a very bad business. Killing the boy had not been a matter that Alim had taken lightly.
The boy's fate had been sealed the moment he opened himself up to a demon. The Chantry did not care who a mage's father was, not when his actions caused the death of so many innocents. The chantry could not stand for that, not when the tale got out. Even if Eamon convinced the Grand Cleric to sweep the matter under the rug, there was still the matter of convincing Knight-Commander Greagoir. The old man believed in his duty, he was not only steadfast but he was righteous as well.
Greagoir might have gone along with the nobility, he might even have sent Connor away, but then…suddenly, in the middle of the night the boy would either vanish, or turn up among the Tranquil with a sunburst brand upon his forehead. It had happened far too often deny. Oh a letter of apology would have eventually been sent to the Arl, but in the end…it would not have changed anything.
The boy would still be gone, whether he still drew breath or not. That might have been better for the Arl, but it certainly would not have been good for Connor.
Alim pursed his lips.
He wasn't sure about anyone else, but he would rather be dead than tranquil. What he had done for that boy had been a mercy, and a far more quick death then the Templar would have given him when the time came.
No, he had not enjoyed doing it, but that did not mean that the task had not been necessary.
The Arl might not like it, but the warden made no apologies for anything he had done up to this point.
"The time will come when those who have done wrong will answer for their crimes," that was what the Arl had said.
The warden mage had to wonder: Did the Arl consider him one of those guilty of wrong doing?
The elf sighed.
If he did, that was just something they would have to deal with when the time came. Hopefully after Loghain was defeated and the Archdemon lay dead.
If there were to be consequences for his action Alim would pay them.
He had made the choice. It had been hard, but it had…been…necessary.
He swallowed hard.
He did not run from his crimes.
He would face his demons.
No apologies, and…
…no regrets.
He glanced around looking for his old comrades. Shayle was easy enough to spot, Sten too. Bandit stayed close to the cook's wagon, defending it against anyone who might threaten their food supply, bloody dog. Zevran and Seri stuck together of course, both in and out of bed. Alim was still not sure what to make of their…dalliance, but recognized that it was none of his business.
Kally stayed close to Theron. Both of the women had been avoiding their own problems by trying to help him. Wynne seemed…troubled after their last talk, he made mental note to try and find out what exactly was the matter. Kally needed to keep her distance from Fergus, at least with so many strangers around.
She was smart enough to know that all these high and mighty types might not approve of a future Teyrn and a girl from the Denerim Alienage having a thing. For now, the two of them seemed to be in agreement to keep things under wraps; it was for the best he supposed.
Both of them had their problems, but it was nothing compared to their Dalish friend.
That was another kettle of fish entirely. Theron was a mess.
The two of them definitely had their work cut out for them.
Kally and Wynne had been trying for days to free the Dalish Warden from the melancholy he had been stuck in since the darkspawn attack on their camp. He still refused to speak of what had happened, and as days passed it seemed more and more unlikely that he would.
Jowan stayed out of sight as much as he could. Oghren and Morrigan were currently watching him, making sure he did not get any crazy ideas about trying to run away. The dwarf had been in good spirits since leaving the Spoiled Princess, his reunion with his old lover seemed to have improved the dwarven berserker's mood considerably. As for Morrigan, she continued to keep her distance from Alistair, no doubt still licking her wounds over the end of their…dalliance.
Alim was still not sure what to make of that, but once again, it was not his business.
The witch's motivations were her own, and not his to question.
This, of course, left only one companion in need of his attention, his favorite member of their little party, the one who shared both his heart, and his bed.
He spotted Leliana speaking with one of the knights assigned to protect them. She had been doing that a lot the past few days, worrying a bit about their security.
The warden mage's brow furrowed.
He wondered what could be going on there.
Leliana had grown distant these last few days, not cold…just distant. She responded to his affections, but he feared that was more for his benefit than hers. Her heart just did not seem to be in it. She smiled rarely and when she did it was like a bit of sunlight peeking through on a dark winter day.
The elf grimaced.
She had not said anything, but he suspect that her visions had started up again. She had said nothing to him of course, but that didn't mean anything.
His ears lowered slightly.
In the past, her visions had gone a long way to warning them of danger, if she was having them again…
…it was safe to say that this trip to the capital may be more exciting than any of them realized.
If she was having visions, she might not…understand what she was seeing just yet. She knew that she could come to him with anything. The fact that she had not likely meant she did not understand exactly what this current vision was trying to tell her.
Give her time, his conscience chided; she has not kept anything from you before.
He nodded slightly.
It is highly unlikely that she will keep anything from you now.
He once again turned his eyes towards the south, toward the roiling clouds filling the horizon.
The taint in his blood seemed to turn cold, making him shiver.
It was not hard to imagine what was even now happening under those dark clouds, and what was directing the chaos from the shadows of the deep roads.
Memories of the Archdemon danced in his head, seeing it in the dead trenches, and again in the fade.
Both encounters had left him with one troubling question.
How in Andraste's name were they going to kill the damn thing?
He licked his lips, fighting off the chill that suddenly ran down his spine.
He forced himself to look away.
The Archdemon was for the future.
Their current focus had to be Loghain. Until Ferelden stood united there was nothing they could do against the darkspawn horde.
End the Civil War, then the rest would follow.
He took a deep breath, letting it hiss out between his teeth.
Now all they had to do was convince the nobles of Ferelden that Loghain was no longer the hero that they knew, that they needed to cast him aside, and take up the banner of Alistair Theirin, the son and heir to King Maric…
…Their rightful lord and king.
He shook his head.
It sounded impossible, but…so had been so much else that they had done.
Defeat the Hero of Riverdane, unite the nobles, and somehow slay the largest dragon that anyone had likely ever seen.
He chuckled to himself.
Yes it sounded impossible, but at the same time.
Alim smiled.
It also sounded like fun.
A/N: Next chapter, Denerim, and the return of Loghain and Elissa!