Chapter 149: A King's Worth
"The darkspawn horde is now spread out through much of the southern and central bannorn."
Alim stood behind the Ferelden officer as he briefed Alistair on the latest scouting reports out of the south. While the nobles had been playing their games in Denerim, the horde had gotten more aggressive, striking viciously at villages and farmsteads throughout most of central Ferelden.
We wasted too much time, the elf thought.
How many good people will die now because of it?
He said nothing out loud, of course, Alistair might have had the lords' oaths, but the alliance remained fragile at best. Loghain might have fallen, but it would take years to rebuild what had been lost in the mad Teyrn's power grab, years, if what had been lost could be rebuilt at all.
Alim tried not to think about that now. It was better that he stayed focused on what he could change, like stopping the darkspawn horde.
It was better that he paid attention to the soldier's briefing.
"We have received reports of darkspawn scouting parties only a few leagues from Kinloch Hold, and as far away as the eastern coast. The horde's size is massive, but it does not seem to be a focused threat. It is drifting north with little cohesion or precision.
The soldier smiled fiercely, a predator's smile...
"That lack of cohesion will be their downfall."
The warrior took the piece representing the Ferelden army in his hand, and moved it according to their battle plan. The warden had said little while the Ferelden officers had drawn it up. Ali might have declared him general of the armies, but that did not make him a military genius. He was more than happy to sit back and listen to others, who had more tactical experience, in how best to attack the darkspawn horde. He had done well leading their small group of outcasts, but that did not mean he could lead an army without aid.
No, he was smart enough to let the officers assigned to him do what they did best, lead…and win.
"We will move the army south along the far bank of Lake Calenhad, using it to shield our flank from any darkspawn attack. Once we reach Redcliffe, we will link up with the rest of the wardens' allies gathering near there. It may take some time to get everything set, but once we are ready we will march our forces west towards the ruins and Lothering, and from there strike north."
Alistair frowned as he studied the battle map.
"You intend to take the horde in the rear?" he asked.
The soldier nodded.
"From what we have heard from the scouts, it seems that the darkspawn are only interested in advancing north. They will never expect a massive strike from behind."
The knight gave his new king a savage look.
"Once we have verified the position of the bulk of the horde, we will dispatch our heavy cavalry; they will form a wedge and drive deep into the darkspawn lines. If everything goes as planned, our initial charge should split the horde in two. From there we can swing left with our cavalry while the rest of the army strikes from the south. We will push the monsters all the way back to Lake Calenhad, once that portion of the horde is destroyed, dealing with the remnant of their right wing forces will be simplicity itself."
Alim nodded as he inspected the map, the knight made it sound so easy.
He doubted that it would be that simple.
"What if the darkspawn lines don't break?" he asked.
"They will warden commander," the man assured him.
"Yes, but what if they don't?"
The soldier frowned.
"The horde cannot stand up to a charge of heavy horse," he said, "They have neither heavy cavalry, nor the cohesion to stop our advance. The horde will fall; you can trust me on that."
Alim's elven ears twitched.
"You are right," he said, "The darkspawn do not have any heavy cavalry, but they do have ogres."
The warden shook his head.
"I can only imagine what would happen if our heavy cavalry went up against a wedge of those on the field."
Several of the other officers grimaced. The elf was not sure how many of these men fought at Ostagar before the betrayal. From what little had seen on the bridge, the darkspawn had kept their forces fairly mixed, but that did not mean that the Archdemon would not link up all its ogres if the horde came under organized attack.
Alim's time in the deep roads came back to him then. He remembered all the times they had blundered into Ogres' dens during their search for Branka. Typically they had only needed to fight a single ogre or a pair of the beasts during those skirmishes.
He did not like to think what a charge of Ogres would do to their heavy cavalry.
"We cannot forget the emissaries either," Alistair added, "They possess spells that make them as dangerous as any mage serving with us."
The king shook his head.
"If our attempt to break the darkspawn lines fails, we could find ourselves in a worse position that what my brother faced at Ostagar."
"No battle is won without risk, Your Majesty," the officer shrugged, "But you both make a valid point, I will speak with our circle allies, perhaps they have some spells that might come in handy in strengthening our charge."
"What if the Archdemon appears," a nervous looking lieutenant asked.
Alistair grimaced. He remembered what his friend had said when he asked Duncan that question.
"We soil our drawers that is what."
He saw no reason to repeat such sentiment. Instead he did his best to channel Duncan. The man's steadfast courage would serve them better than anything else right now.
"If it does appear," Alim said, "Leave the beast to the grey wardens."
"And what if the beast is in flight?" the lieutenant asked.
He gave the officers a sly smile.
"I have a few spells of my own that I've been waiting to try."
Alistair gave him a curious look.
"Do you think you can bring the Archdemon down, Lim? Use your lightning perhaps?"
The elf's ears twitched.
"Maybe," he shrugged, "The horde's presence makes the weather around it…unpredictable at best. I didn't trust my abilities back at Ostagar. Now…maybe…"
He shook his head.
"We'll just have to try. If we do nothing, we are lost. We won't be able to do much against that dragon while it is in the air."
"We have ballista," the first officer reminded him, "If we could pin the creature's wings…"
"I won't refuse any help," he said to the man, "If things start to go badly for the darkspawn, I would not be surprised in the least if the Archdemon showed itself."
"We will be ready if it does warden commander," the first officer said.
"In that, you have my word."
It was in that moment that Eamon joined them. The Arl of Redcliffe had been seeing to the recruits that had been arriving almost hourly since the march out of Denerim had begun.
Both the officers and the wardens offered the man greetings. He paused as he looked over the battle map.
"Things are progressing well, I hope?" he said.
"We have a plan, my lord," Alistair informed him, "Of course; we still need to find the main body of the horde if it is to succeed."
The Arl nodded.
"I spoke with Riordan before he left. He said something about listening in on the Archdemon, how he plans to do that, I do not know."
Alim's elven ears twitched. He had a good idea what Riordan intended, but said nothing of it to the Arl.
Being the warden commander meant more than simply fighting darkspawn; it now fell to him to help protect the orders secrets. Secrets that, he hated to admit, he did not completely understand himself.
As time had gone on, he had come to realize that he could sense individual wardens if he tried. Theron was like a beacon, the taint in his blood was quite strong, and Alim would have had no problem finding him. Riordan had been much the same way, the old man had claimed to have taken his joining with Duncan years ago, and according to Alistair, Duncan had been about to go on his calling and likely would have had the horde not surfaced in the south.
Jowan and Elissa were both too new to the taint to sense much, at least not yet. Jowan had recovered quickly, and now the taint burned in his blood. Elissa was…
Elissa was different.
Fergus' sister had not taken to the taint very well. Since awakening from the joining she looked quite pale and sickly. Riordan had said that that would pass in time, yet Elissa remained ill…or at least ill looking.
The girl had said nothing about what she was feeling. Fergus had tried to talk to her, but she had rebuffed his attempts. When Theron had tried to make peace with her, remind her that she was now their sister warden, she had all but laughed at him.
"We are not family, elf," she spat, "And we never will be."
Alim recognized that he would need to talk to her. Whether she would accept his help, was another matter entirely.
It was clear that she hated both him and the wardens for what they had done to her.
Alim shook his head.
Hopefully the girl would come to accept her fate, in time.
He looked over at Alistair, looked over, and reached out with his warden senses.
What he felt puzzled him.
Alistair was a warden, he could sense that plain enough, but unlike the others, even the new recruits, the taint seemed to be growing weaker in their new king, not stronger. He could sense it in his friends veins, but it felt…weaker somehow, like it was fighting a losing battle.
Alim's elven ears twitched.
How that was possible, he could not say.
Alistair finally dismissed their little war council. There was much to be done before they broke camp and started to march again on the morrow.
"Lim," the new king called out.
"Yes, Your Majesty," he said pausing.
"Hold for a moment," Alistair said, "I think we should speak in private."
The elf nodded, waiting until the officers and nobles had left. Finally it was just the two of them. Alistair glanced around them, almost as if he was checking that they were now alone.
He sighed heavily.
"Sooo," he drawled, "What do you think?"
Alim shrugged.
"We have a chance," he said, "A much better one than we had when we started out from Flemeth's hut after Ostagar."
Alistair nodded.
"Why do I sense a 'but' coming?" he asked.
"Probably because you know me," the elf said dryly.
He let out a tired sigh and looked down at the war table.
"I saw the Archdemon in the dead trenches Alistair," he said with a shiver, "The bastard is bigger than the high dragon we fought back in Haven, and if that was not enough, just being around the thing hurt my head. It was like the song was drowning out everything."
The elf shook his head again.
"If that happens again during battle, I'm not sure what will happen to us."
Alistair tried to put on his most winning smile.
"You have grown quite a bit since the dead trenches Lim," he reminded his companion. "You have better control over your power, and over the taint."
The king rose and tapped his friend on the shoulder.
"If the Archdemon does appear, you will do what you can, I've seen enough on our journey to know that is true."
The elf snorted with amusement.
"I appreciate the compliment," he said, "Yet we still won't know for sure until we face the creature, and by then it might be too late."
Alistair nodded grimly.
"I got your back, Lim," he said, "Never doubt that."
The warden smiled.
"I know Ali," he said warmly, "You may not have wanted this, but at least you have stepped up. I'm grateful for that."
The king's expression turned humble.
"I still think this is all a big mistake," he said, "I mean…you saw what kind of leader I was in the Korcari Wilds."
"Don't sell yourself short. I'm not the only one who has grown since then," the elf reminded him, "You are doing fine Alistair, try not to think so much about it."
He nodded, looking more like a shy child than a king.
"I'm trying," he admitted.
"That is all we can ask of you, Ali," the elf said, "Of course, that does not mean that I cannot offer you some help."
Alistair gave him a curious look. Alim smiled and drew his sword from his belt
The elf smiled at him.
"It is time."
IOI
Alistair paused. He could clearly see that the sword the elf was holding was not spellbinder. Yet, he recognized it just the same.
It was the sword from the royal arms chest. It was the sword they had found back in Ostagar.
Maric's sword, Alistair thought with a shiver.
My father's sword.
Alim kneeled before him, and offered him the weapon.
"I told you that I would hold onto this until the time was right," he said, "Well that time has finally come."
The warden bowed his head.
"The sword of king's for our king," he said.
"I can think of no better symbol."
Alistair looked down at the blade. A slight shudder ran through his frame.
He found himself thinking of everything his father had done with that sword. Here was the blade that had freed their country from the Orlesians. The sword that had ended the life of the usurper Meghren…
Now…his warden brother was offering it to him.
How could he take it up?
How could he ever be worthy of it?
His hand reached out for the blade, yet he remained hesitant, like the sword would burn him if he touched it, that it would reject him, recognizing the fact that he was not his father.
He feared that the weapon would mark him as a fraud, which is what he felt like.
I am no king, he thought.
I'm just another bastard.
Alim, perhaps realizing why he was hesitating looked up.
"It is okay not to feel worthy," he said, "Maker knows I felt unworthy the first time I held spellbinder. The blade had so much history, who was I to think I was worthy of it."
"You certainly don't act like you feel that way," Alistair said.
"Every day is chance to prove myself worthy," he said, "In time Ali, you will realize that you are worthy to."
The elf smiled.
"It is about grace. We are all unworthy, but when the time comes, we rise to the occasion."
He gave his friend a serious look.
"Can you do that Ali? Can you do what must be done?"
Alistair looked back and forth, both between his friend, and his father's weapon, the blade that had freed a nation.
I will never be Maric, he thought, Cailan never understood that. I can't do what our father did.
Alistair took a deep breath and mustered his courage.
He reached out and took the blade in his hand. The runes glowed as he gripped the hilt; the darkspawn taint in his blood seemed to recoil at the very touch of it.
Alistair smiled grimly.
"It is lighter than I thought," he murmured.
"Maybe that is a good thing," Alim said.
"Maybe it is," the new king agreed.
He held the blade up to his eyes he stared deeply into the glowing runes of silverite that ran the length of the blade.
He did not look away from that light, he lit it fill him up, illuminate his soul.
He would never be his father, or his brother, he realized.
But…he could be himself.
But would that be enough, he thought.
He took another deep breath, pushing back the fear.
Only time would tell, he thought.
Only time would tell.