Chapter 153: A Battle's Aftermath
Cheers went up from the wall of Redcliffe Castle as the wardens and their allies cut a final swath through the attacking darkspawn. Creatures fell as they tried to scatter. The pathway was too narrow and the surviving darkspawn found themselves easy prey to the archers on the castle walls.
The darkspawn had divided their forces when the king's army had come up behind them that had been a mistake, when the wardens punched through the darkspawn rear guard, those attacking the castle found themselves between a hammer and an anvil.
The remaining darkspawn were massacred.
The walls were scarred and blacked from fireballs and other foul spells cast by darkspawn emissaries, but remained strong. The gates were pitted and splintered from several heavy impacts. Three ogres had thrown themselves against the barred gates, seeking to breach the entrance, and gain access to the castle. The creatures now lay dead outside the gates, their flesh melted and burnt by boiling oil, their bodies filled with more shafts then most men could count.
Alim stood before the gates as the soldiers raised the scarred portcullis. The fighting was not completely done yet, but the darkspawn force had been broken. Only small pockets of the monsters remained, those now either surrounded by pikes or being pursued by Ferelden cavalry across the rocky terrain of the Hinterlands.
The elven warden surveyed the battle from outside the castle gates, the village of Redcliffe was all but destroyed, but would be able to rebuilt in time, the darkspawn had not had the time to infect the lands here as they had done around Lothering, the creatures had died fast, and soon would be piled into a pyre and disposed with. The sickness that the monsters spread would not claim the victims that they had sought.
We stopped them; the elf thought to himself, this is a win that is for sure, but…
He frowned slightly.
Why did he still feel like something was amiss?
The wardens strode into the castle courtyard, greeted by cheers and shouts of welcome. Alim's eyes wandered over the crowd, trying to find the commander who had led the defense.
He had questions for that man. He wanted to know exactly what had happened here. If the horde had meant to destroy Redcliffe, why had they not sent enough spawn to finish the job, and where was the Archdemon? Had the dragon been here, the wardens might have found nothing left to save, dragon fire could have ended the garrison here, and handed the horde an easy victory.
Had they arrived too late, had the spawn taken Redcliffe Castle, the monsters could have held out for months, or would have been able to had they fought like a standard army.
From what he had seen, the darkspawn fought more like soldier ants then human or dwarven soldiers. They swarmed over their prey like a flood, using numbers in place of tactics to win the day. Had they taken Redcliffe Castle, the fight would have been much bloodier. The spawn could have retreated back into the castle, they had enough intelligent to use any ballistae or trebuchet they captured, Alim had seen evidence of that back in the deep roads. Had the horde truly wanted Redcliffe, they would have made the Ferelden army bleed taking it back.
Yet, the darkspawn had not come in sufficient numbers to claim that objective? The Archdemon may have been enough to turn the tide had it been here, but it had been absent, or so all evidence he could see suggested.
What is happening? The elf wondered.
What game was the dragon playing now?
Alistair made his way up next to him, the new king looked none the worse for wear, black blood spattered his armor.
The former Templar's face was grim.
"You okay?"Alim asked.
Alistair frowned.
"Four of my guards died protecting me," he complained.
Alim's ears twitched as he frowned.
"Then they did their duty," he said.
"Lim," Alistair looked at him with a pained expression, "They died for me, it was unnecessary."
The elf rolled his eyes.
"Your concern for you people is encouraging, Ali," he said, "That you mourn their loss shows that we made the right choice putting you where you are now."
Alim sighed heavily.
"But, you must also harden yourself, honor the memory of those men, but don't forget that they died doing what they needed to do. Ferelden needs its king now, more than ever."
The elf managed a weak smile.
"They did their duty, so you can now do yours."
Alistair still did not look convinced, but he nodded grimly and left to inspect the castle. Alim watched him go with a cool and evaluating eye.
The elf nodded to himself.
He had made the right choice, now he was sure of it.
He searched the courtyard for Leliana, to make sure that she had come through the battle safely. He spotted Wynne and Sten tending to Shayle, while Zevran and Seri looked to be organizing a hunting party to go out and deal with any spawn still skulking around the destroyed village. A smart idea if true, Alim would need to…
"Warden?"
He turned to find Bann Teagan and his men pushing through the crowd, the noble's guards maneuvered any soldier out of the way.
The Bann's face shown with relief, clearly the common soldiers were not the only ones who were grateful for their timely arrival.
"Your Lordship," Alim said with a bow, dipping his hat to the man, "It is pleasing to see you unharmed."
The warden rose quickly, placing his hat back on his head.
"Is the castle secure," he asked, quickly returning to the business at hand.
"The darkspawn did not manage to breach the walls," the noble said. "Your fellow warden, Riordan arrived just in time to warn us, we were able to evacuate the villagers to the castle just as the horde closed in."
Alim nodded.
Thank the Maker for small favors, he thought; still his questions about their victory here remained.
He hoped that Teagan could provide him with answers.
"I would not call these spawn the horde," he said, "Not exactly, I saw the darkspawn horde in the deep roads months ago. What we faced here was an army, but it was sadly a mere piece of the Archdemon's full horde."
The elf shook his head.
"I need to speak with Riordan, as soon as possible. Whatever he knows could be important."
Teagan nodded.
"He is expecting you, Alistair and the other wardens as well. I'm to bring you all to him as soon as matters are settled out here."
Teagan looked far grimmer than Alim had ever seen him look before, and this from a man who had held for days as undead swarmed out of Redcliffe Castle.
The sight did nothing for the warden's mood.
His Lordship's expression suggested that he already knew more than what he had said. Riordan had likely already shared at least some of what he had learned before the wardens had arrived with the rest of the Ferelden army.
He would need to gather up his fellow wardens. Theron, Jowan, and Elissa too, as wardens they had a right to know what it was that Riordan had discovered when seeking out the darkspawn horde. Perhaps it would even give them a clue to the Archdemon's whereabouts.
He found himself thinking back to Ostagar. The dragon had not shown itself there either, if it continued to remain underground, hiding in the deep roads…?
The thought made the elf shudder.
The Archdemon had to die, killing the creature was the only way to end the Blight, or so everyone had said. If the monster decided to remain in hiding, letting its army run wild without it, it would be necessary to pursue the monster into the deep roads, not a mission he looked forward to.
In the deep roads the army of Ferelden would not matter for much. Given the state of those crumbling tunnels, the army would be spread too thin to be able to do much against darkspawn raiding parties.
Alim shook his head.
No, they could not allow the Archdemon to remain hidden. They would need to force the issue, draw the monster out into the open. He still did not know how they were going to fight a flying dragon, but he would rather face the beast on an open plain than in the shadowed corridors of the deep roads.
No the wardens need to pick their battles; that meant drawing the Archdemon out.
He went in search of his fellows.
Hopefully, Riordan would have some idea of how to do that.
IOI
Leliana remained behind when Alim and the others made their way into the Arl's solar. As a chantry sister she had been trained to see to wounds and to comfort the suffering. She might have left her robes behind, but that training remained.
It was important to her, almost as important as her love for her dear warden. They had come so far together. Anything she could do to aid their cause she would.
Alim had his place, and she had hers.
Currently she was tending to Redcliffe's old blacksmith; he had fallen in the flight from the village and hurt his leg. Leliana might not have had healing magic, but she did know how to treat minor injuries, and this certainly applied. The man's daughter stayed close to her father, fussing over all that the bard was doing, it was an annoyance, but she let it pass. Alim had left Bandit behind to protect her, just in case. The large Mabari lay close by, panting, but ready to leap to her aid at a moment's notice.
She smiled slightly.
She had come to love the big warhound as much as his master did. He understood how important she was to Alim, and was as fierce a protector as anyone could ask.
She spotted Morrigan moving towards her, the witch seemed to be in a hurry, her amber eyes focused elsewhere.
"Morrigan?" she called out.
The witch paused, she glared at her companion, a look of pure anger, but that faded as quickly as it had appeared.
Leliana suppressed a wince.
What was that about?
"Yes," Morrigan said coolly, her voice strained somehow.
"I wonder if you might have a healing poultice." Leliana asked, "This man hurt his leg, it is not bad, but…"
The witch snorted.
"A poultice is unnecessary," she said, "a spell can deal with any swelling far quicker, and I have the time."
"Surely your magic is needed elsewhere," Leliana said, "There are far more injured from the battle I'm sure. I do not mean to impose."
"Wynne and her circle pets are seeing to the truly wounded," Morrigan said dismissively, "My healing skills are paltry compared to theirs. Still, I can help here."
She gave her companion a frigid look.
"If you were imposing, I would have told you so," she said coldly.
She turned to the injured man.
"Tis no trouble," she said pushing past Leliana her hands already glowing with healing magic.
Leliana did not know what to say.
Morrigan was not the most charitable of her companions, and her manner did not suggest compassion, still…aid was aid was it not?
"Thank you, Morrigan," she said.
"Tis nothing," the witch said with a shrug, "If I refused, you would likely go to Alim and ask that he order me to aid these…people."
The witch snorted.
"I would rather avoid any such argument, thank you very much."
Leliana regarded her companion closely. She would never call Morrigan a friend; that much was certain, still she felt that she had come to know the witch over the last year.
Leliana had once prided herself on knowing how to read people. A mood could be revealed by the slightest tilt of the head, a twitch of the lip.
Morrigan was trying hard to appear her usual cold proud self, but…she was clearly…troubled about something.
Troubled or excited?
Leliana thought to ask her about it, but finally decided against it.
If she pried into the witch's business now, it would likely lead only to a fight, and that was not what they needed right now.
Morrigan had offered help, she should simply be grateful for that. If she had a problem, she would likely bring it to Alim. The witch did not trust her, but she seemed to have a deep trust and respect for their leader.
Morrigan was not the type to make such a commitment, for her to feel such a way about Alim was proof her dearest's strength and skill.
Leliana looked up at the castle proper. Right now the wardens should be meeting with Riordan. The senior warden had sent word that he needed to speak with them all privately.
Leliana was not sure what to make of that, but respected the fact that Alim's oath to the grey wardens sometimes took precedence over his personal life.
If he learned something she needed to know, he would share it with her. She did not doubt that.
Bandit rose behind her, she had spotted a chantry sister having a problem with one of the villagers.
She and Bandit went to see if they could help.
If she could offer succor to these people she would.
It is what she had been chosen for, whether in battle or peace.
The Maker's will be done.
IOI
Morrigan was glad when she finally was able to slip away from the fool and his daughter. The spell she had cast had done much for the swelling and the pain.
The chantry twit would be most pleased.
She made her way into the castle, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Anticipation pulsed through her blood.
The witch swallowed, fear, excitement, and anticipation made her whole body tingle.
Tis time.
After months of waiting, after countless battles, delays, and annoyances, the time had finally come.
Tonight was the night, she thought to herself.
Tis time.
The culmination of her mother's plan, the time had finally come.
The thought made her grimace.
No, not mother's plan, not anymore.
She smiled slightly.
My plan.
The old warden had summoned Alim and the others. No doubt the man had discovered the whereabouts of the Archdemon, or at least had an idea of how to draw the monster out.
If he had, then the wardens would soon face the Archdemon in combat, a combat that would see the end of the beast, or they would die trying.
The thought gave her pause, briefly.
If the wardens failed, then all this had been for naught. Everything that she had fought for would be nothing.
She did not like thinking about that.
"There is risk, dear girl," Flemeth would have said, "But without risk, there can be no reward."
She could almost imagine the old woman's cruel smile.
"And we are striving for the grandest of reward."
The thought made her giddy.
Tis time.
Reward, yes, she thought, a symbol of freedom that will redraw the map of this world.
A symbol that would be hers and hers alone, a destiny that she alone would shape, she could not deny the power of that.
It was her fate, her destiny, a destiny she gladly accepted.
The thought bolstered her courage as she made her way towards the apartments that she and her companions shared. The wardens would know the truth soon enough, and then she would offer them the choice. It was not a choice that many would refuse.
Life or death?
Glory or the grave?
That is what she was offering, the only question was now, which one would she offer it too? Alistair was the most likely candidate, but she was no longer thinking clearly when it came to the fool. She was pragmatic enough to acknowledge that.
No Alistair was a last resort.
That left only three choices; she knew which one she preferred, but…
Which one, she thought as she mustered her courage for the night to come, a most memorable night indeed.
Which one?