Chapter 125: The Dungeons
"How much longer is this going to take?"
Leliana did not justify Oghren's question with an answer, it was a foolish question, a reckless question…
They could not afford to be either.
The bard was down on her hands and knees, inspecting the cobblestones of the long hallway leading down to the Teyrn's estate's lower levels. She remembered this place from her own escape from here years ago, but she was not so confident with her past knowledge that she wished to just blunder ahead and hope for the best.
No, Alim needed her to sweep the path for traps, and that was exactly what she was going to do.
Morrigan stood off to the side, her eyes rolled back inside her head; a strange shadow-like energy wove its way down the long corridor. Part of a revealing spell, the witch had said. They already knew that Howe had mages in his service, any wards those mages could cast would be revealed by Morrigan's spell, or so the witch had claimed.
Alim stood quietly behind the two women, watching them both. Leliana glanced up at him, earning a small smile.
She returned it and went back to work, wanting to be double sure before continuing forward.
"Come on," Oghren muttered under his breath.
"Come on."
Alim shot the dwarf a dirty look.
"What?" Oghren spat.
Lightning sparked in the elven warden's eyes.
"Let them work," he ordered the dwarf.
The berserker snorted but fell silent.
Leliana found a small pressure plate built into the rock. She slid her dagger in to keep it from going all the way down when she put some weight on it; the plate caused a long slender trip wire to rise out of the dust.
Leliana used her dagger and cut it, whatever nasty surprise the trip wire could have brought down upon them was now neutralized.
Behind her, Morrigan chuckled.
"Circle taught wards," she scoffed, "Ha! Easily removable."
The witch gestured a red glowing orb appeared in their path, an orb that was quickly smothered by the shadows that Morrigan had conjured.
The light died, with a slight popping sound.
She smiled.
"Tis too easy," she purred, "Child's play."
Alim snorted.
"Don't get cocky," he warned her, "We still have a long way to go."
Leliana rose and dusted herself off. Alim gave her a questioning look.
"We're clear," she said.
The warden nodded and motioned for them to go forward.
Leliana's hands drifted to her daggers, they would be far more valuable than her bow in such close quarters. Of course, some of the larger rooms down here would require a bow, so she kept that weapon close as well.
The bard's eyes narrowed dangerously.
The next few moments promised to be more than a little exciting.
Her fingers curled around the hilts of her blades, she extinguished all thoughts of mercy and charity.
They had no place here.
She took a deep breath.
Now, the fun was about to begin.
IOI
Alim said nothing as they made their way down to the lower levels of the estate. Erlina, their guide up until this point had elected to remain up top, not wishing to get caught in the inevitable crossfire that was sure to come once the Arl's men knew they were here.
Alim's elven ears lowered slightly.
So far, everything he had seen here in Howe's estate suggested that the man was either very smart or very foolish. They had penetrated these halls with barely a hiccup from the patrols that had passed them on their way here. From what Alim could tell there wasn't even any locked doors in this place, everything was open from the library to the armory. Anyone could have walked in and taken whatever it was they liked…
Or perhaps…that was what Howe wanted them to think.
That simple thought sent a chill down the warden's spine.
He had spent time with Fergus, preparing for this mission. From what he had gathered from the warrior Howe was neither naïve nor stupid. The man had survived the Ferelden war for independence, and the chaos of rebuilding that came after, such times did not favor the foolish, or the innocent. Fergus had painted a portrait of Rendon Howe that suggested that the man favored subtle schemes to overwhelming use of force. Many of the war stories that Bryce Cousland had told Fergus when he was young suggested that the Arl of Amaranthine was not a man to be crossed lightly. He would lure you in, and only then would the trap snap shut, only when you were completely and utterly at his mercy did Rendon Howe reveal his true strength.
The man was a cunning foe, and asp of a man. Such a man was not above using his own queen as bait, even if it cost the queen her life. Howe knew that Fergus was among the warden's companions, he also no doubt knew that the warrior would tell the wardens all of Bryce Cousland's old war stories. That knowledge would likely be enough to prepare a warm welcome for the wardens and their allies. Which was exactly why Alim had chosen to leave Alistair and Theron out of this mission, Howe would have expected the wardens to come in force, or would he…?
Perhaps he hoped to pick them off one by one? Perhaps he…?
Alim shook his head. He cursed under his breath.
Stop it, he thought.
This is not helping anything.
Trying to outthink Howe was only going to lead to a brain cramp. Alim had surrounded himself with people he could trust, good fighters all. As long as they stayed focused on the job at hand, they would prevail, he did not doubt that.
Traps did not always work out as their designers had intended. Alim had never faced Rendon Howe in combat, but at the same time, Howe had never faced him.
They were on even ground, once the battle began.
Before they had proceeded down here, the group had passed through the Teyrn's quarters. Alim checked the room before continuing on. You could learn a lot about a person by what prizes he chose to keep close by. Hunting trophies would suggest a hunter. Books on politics would suggest a diplomat or a statesman.
Howe's room revealed nothing. There were no pictures of his children, only a family seal over the mantelpiece. The wine bottles in the corner were neither lavish nor cheap, but someplace in between. The book case was filled with expensive looking tomes, but from the amount of dust that had collected there, it was clear that the Arl had never even touched them.
The warden shook his head.
The man's motivations remained a mystery.
The only telling thing that Alim could see was the door off the bedroom that led down to the dungeons.
It was surprising to find a direct route to the cells linked to the Arl's bedchamber. Even Fergus was at a loss to explain such a door.
Finally, it was Oghren that came up with a rather…disturbing reason for the closeness of such an entrance.
"Heh," the dwarf began, "Perhaps his lordship likes to pop down to the cells for a little torture before bedtime."
No one responded to the Berserker's statement. Fear was likely the cause of their lack of statements. They were not afraid of offending Oghren of course, but fear remained.
They were not afraid that he was wrong…
…They were worried that he might be right.
The warden took a shuddering breath.
Fergus said that Howe had murdered his entire family. That alone suggested that the man was cruel, but…but if he took pleasure in the suffering of others, that he chose to gloat over the pain of his victims, that made the matter of dealing with him another matter entirely.
A simply ambitious man could be reasoned with.
An evil ambitious man could not. He might try to destroy them simply because he could…
…If that was the case, that made him even more dangerous.
The group reached the door at the end of the descending corridor. Leliana and Morrigan checked for traps as Alim and the others readied their weapons. When both the bard and the witch pronounced the way clear, they opened the door.
Alim stepped inside, and…
"Who are you?!"
The elf whirled drawing his blade, a lone guard stood before a single cell, his sword and shield drawn.
Lightning began to crackle around the elf as he drew upon the magic in his blood. The guard backpedaled, perhaps looking to take cover behind a small table behind him, a wine bottle and half eaten tray of food spilled onto the floor.
Backing up had been a big mistake for the guard, that and not crying out for help.
He did not live long enough to regret either choice.
A muscular arm shot out from the cell, the guard so preoccupied with the elven mage had gotten to close to the cell.
The prisoner had been as quick as a serpent's tongue, his arm wrapped firmly around the guard's neck, the man fought, struggling to get free, his cries became low gurgles as the prisoner tightened his grip.
The guard lost his sword and shield he tried to pull away from the cell, his arms trying to pull the other man's arm free, but that left the guard's belt protected.
The prisoner pulled a long dagger from the man's belt. Before the guard knew what was happening, the prisoner jammed the blade into the soft spot underneath the man's chin.
The guard straightened, his body shuddered once, twice, three times. Then he slid down the front of the cell, dying with nearly a whimper.
Alim shuddered at the coldness of the attack, but at the same time pleased that the man had not been able to raise the alarm.
The cell door opened and the dead guard fell inside, the prisoner wasted no time in dragging the body inside. Alim and his companions watched the cell warily, not sure what was going to come out.
When the prisoner emerged, now wearing the guard's armor, he was not what they expected.
He walked with a slight limp, but no one would ever accuse the man of not being dangerous. You could sense it in the way he moved, a liquid grace that all warriors had. His shoulder length black hair was peppered with gray and dirt, his face with bland, but his eyes were sharp and alert.
He regarded the warden and his companions.
The man smiled slightly.
"Many thanks, my friends," he said in an Orlesian accent, "If not for the distraction, I may have been locked in that cell forever."
"You're welcome," Alim said after a brief pause, "Though I don't think…"
The prisoner frowned slightly; he tilted his head, as if listening for something.
Alim gasped.
It was not the first time he felt a fellow warden reach out through the taint and touch his mind, but that did not make it any less disturbing.
For that was what the man was, a fellow warden, Alim recognized the fact now.
The other warden smiled.
"You must be him," the man said, "The warden mage that has been giving Arl Howe so many fits in the last few months."
Alim smirked when he heard that.
"I am Alim of the Grey Wardens," he admitted, "May I ask who you are, ser?"
The man chuckled.
"Unworthy of being called ser, young one, believe me," he said with a laugh.
"I am Riordan, senior warden of Jader."
Alim's elven ears rose slightly.
"Riordan?" he said, "I've heard the name. Theron mentioned you."
Riordan's smile widened.
"Ah," he said, "So the young Dalish survived Howe's treachery, that is good."
The older warden let out a tired sigh.
"We are too few as it is," he said to himself, "It is good to know at least one of the new blood survived. Even in this cell, I could hear the Archdemon's thoughts."
Riordan shook his head.
"We will all be needed soon, if we are to survive."
Alim lowered his weapons. His allies followed suit.
This man was no threat. He was a reminder…
It did not matter of they stopped Howe and Loghain, not if the Blight continued unchecked.
Death was even now marching across Ferelden…
…And it was growing closer.
IOI
"We have intruders."
Elissa Cousland looked up from her reading. The mage girl's report did not surprise her.
If anything, she was surprised that it had taken this long.
The noblewoman rose from her chair, the mage and her two guards snapped to attention.
Elissa fought the urge to smirk.
"Someone has breached your wards?" she inquired.
The mage nodded.
Elissa pursed her lips. She did not doubt what the girl was telling her.
She had been working with the mage for months. She had been assigned to Elissa since the fall of Castle Cousland. Over the many months the two women had developed a rapport.
The noble smiled slightly.
The mage had done her a favor when they first met. She had saved Elissa from having to kill poor Rory Gilmore, a man that she had actually been quite fond of.
Elissa had been grateful to her for that.
She had thought about bringing Rory into her and Uncle Rendon's plans, but in the end realized that the man's loyalty to her father was too strong. It had been a shame to lose such a handsome man, but, oh well, as the Orlesians said:
Cest la vie.
Elissa considered her options.
They could locate the breach using the mage's power. They could find the intruders and stop them before they caused any mischief, but…
Elissa's smile widened.
"That was perhaps not in her best interests.
"Come with me," she ordered her guards, "We need Cauthrien and her men. We shall bring them here at once."
The two guards looked at each other.
Elissa's eyes narrowed.
"What?" she demanded.
"Surely we should not leave Milady," he said, "Not with the Teyrn still here."
She waved her hand dismissively.
"My Uncle Rendon can take care of himself," she assured him, "Our first duty is to the Regent. If the wardens are here, we will need more men to capture them."
At first the men did not respond, caught between their duty to their lord, and her orders.
Elissa glared at them.
She had no need for indecisive fools.
Lightning crackled in the mage's hands.
"Your lady gave an order," she said coldly.
The men flinched.
"OBEY IT!" the mage spat.
The men snapped to attention.
"Yes, Ma'am," they said in unison.
Elissa smiled as one opened the door.
She led them out into the hall. She had memorized Ser Cauthrien's guard schedule, she could have the Regent's men here in twenty minutes.
Plenty of time, she thought.
Her thoughts drifted to Uncle Rendon, of their deal to unify their houses.
Elissa smirked.
Perhaps it was time to…amend that deal.
Uncle Rendon had outlived his usefulness to her. If it was the wardens, and they killed him, so much the better, she would be a much better advisor to the Regent than he had ever been. Thomas Howe would likely have to be dealt with too, but that would not be too hard. Thomas was not as clever as his father.
An excited shiver ran down her spine.
Loghain would grant her both Highever and Amaranthine for capturing the wardens; she did not doubt that, and who was to say she needed to stop there. The Regent was a widower after all, who was to say he would not welcome a marriage to the sole loyal member of a storied house.
Once she was in the palace, the new king's bed, who knew what else, could happen?!
Ruling for life did not necessarily mean that a person ruled for long. After they dealt with the Blight, anything was possible…
Anything.
Elissa's smile turned predatory.
Queen Elissa the first, she thought with a merry chuckle.
She liked the sound of that.