CHAPTER SEVEN

"Warden Blackwall?"

Myra and her party approached the bearded man and the ragtag group of farm-boys.

An arrow flew through the air, nearly hitting Myra, but Blackwall blocked it with his shield.

"Either help or leave!" Blackwall called. "Conscripts, to arms!"

The bandits were a disorganized bunch and quick work for the Inquisition and the Warden's party combined. Myra already found herself admiring the strength with which the Warden carried himself with, his rugged charm, and his swordsmanship. He obviously had a lot of experience.

When the fighting had ceased, Blackwall dismissed his men. "Next time someone attacks you, I want you to stand and fight!" They thanked their commander and headed in the direction of Redcliffe farms.

"Refugees from the war's chaos, the lot of them," Blackwall said, sheathing his sword. "But you called for me? Who are you and what do you want?"

"We're part of the Inquisition; my name is Myra." She extended her dainty hand to the gruff man. He looked at it, arms crossed.

Myra smirked. "It's okay, I'll only bite if you ask."

Sera snickered in the back and Cassandra scoffed. She could feel Solas's gaze cut at her back.

Blackwall snorted and took her hand. As he began to give a firm shake, her Mark crackled. He jerked his hand away.

"Maker's Breath, you're the Herald!" He clenched and unclenched his hand that had touched the Mark. "I apologize for not recognizing you sooner. Things are a bit remote out here."

"No need to apologize. I wish more people failed to recognize me."

"Fair enough," Blackwall said. "What can I do for you, Herald?"

Cassandra cut in. "We were wondering if you knew about the disappearance of the Wardens."

"Well, that's what Wardens do, isn't it? Blight's over, they're no longer needed, they disappear, come back when the next Blight comes." He shrugged. "I'm afraid I can't offer much help. I haven't heard from the Wardens for quite some time now. I stay out here, recruiting."

"We worry their untimely disappearance may be connected to the death of the Divine," Cassandra said, her words heavy with implication.

Blackwall shook his head. "I can't imagine how the Wardens would be involved, but I'm still afraid I can't help you."

Cassandra sighed. Myra could hear Sera twang on her bowstring out of boredom. Solas observed quietly.

Finally, Myra spoke. "It's a shame you can't help us, I was hoping for more from you." She made a show of looking rather disappointed and fluttering her eyelashes prettily as she turned around and led her party back the way they came.

Only moments passed before she heard Blackwall's cry. "Herald!"

Myra smirked. She adjusted her expression, longing consuming her disposition as she looked back to Blackwall. He hurried over to the party.

"Thinking the Wardens are absent from this chaos is as bad as thinking we're involved. Allow me to aid the Inquisition."

Myra bit her lip, seeming to ponder for a moment, but her mind was already made up. "Warden Blackwall, welcome to the Inquisition."

"What'd you say your name was again?"

Myra turned to see Blackwall ride up beside her. They rode outside of the Hinterlands, having already met with the mages and recruiting Dorian. Blackwall slowed his horse to match pace with hers. She smiled at him.

"Myra."

"Myra," he repeated. "I have to say, Myra, you're not what I expected."

"A beautiful, charming young woman?" she said.

"Ah, that too." Blackwall rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, I thought you'd be…human."

"Ah."

"It was foolish of me."

"I admire your honesty." Myra looked to him. "Better than 'knife-ear.'"

"Have people called you that?"

Myra groaned. "Elgar'nan, yes."

"Well, don't listen to them. They got nothing on a 'beautiful, charming,' capable young woman such as yourself."

"I never said capable."

"You didn't have to."

Myra giggled. She glanced back at the group to ensure they were still all together. Solas's face was expressionless.

Myra frowned. "Excuse me." She pulled the horse to a stop, falling to the back of the group next to Solas.

"Lethallin," she greeted. He didn't respond. Her frown returned. "Hah'ren?"

"Din'dirthera," Solas said. "We shall speak upon our return to Haven."

Myra reeled back a bit in her saddle. What had she done wrong? She wanted to ask but knew that would cross the boundary he'd established. "Ir abelas, hah'ren. We will speak back in Haven."

Solas nodded, refusing to grace her with a response. She rode forward a couple strides, settling alongside Dorian and Sera.

"Elfy's face couldn't get any scrunchier. Surprised he hasn't turned ya to a block of ice with those looks of his." Sera snorted. "Think he's jealous of Beardie over there?"

"Keep your voice down, Sera. I don't need him angrier."

"But he's jealous, 'in'he?"

"Oh, undoubtedly," Dorian said. "He's practically leaking with envy."

Myra flushed. "I didn't mean to make him jealous. I was just being friendly."

Sera laughed. "If them pretty eyelash flutters are 'friendly' remind me to stay on your good side. Not that there's a side of you that isn't good."

"Sera!" Myra's flush deepened. The archer just laughed.

"See, it's all good fun, innit? If Elfy doesn't get that, that's his problem."

"I'd have to agree," Dorian said. "Furthermore, I'd say you should find a way to turn this to your advantage. Nothing like a bit of jealousy to spice the bedroom."

"True that," Sera said. "Could even get both of them in on that. Sure you'd like that."

Myra's face could not get any redder. She gave up trying to silence their merciless onslaught.

Three days passed. Solas still would not speak with her, but the rest of the group kept her company. Dorian tried to speak to Solas a few times about Arlathan and the ancient elves only to receive icy responses. He eventually gave up and simply asked Myra the questions, which she answered with folklore the best she could. They exchanged information regarding each others' heritages. Myra took quite an interest in his firsthand account of Tevinter, and he soaked up her every story regarding the Creators. Sera always scoffed at such stories and retired to her tent the second she started. Cassandra and Blackwall listened for entertainment's sake. Even Solas opened his tent's flaps to allow her stories entry.

When they returned to Haven, Solas still refused to speak with her. After helping to get Blackwall and Dorian settled in, she met with Cassandra and the Advisors in the War Room for a debriefing. After some thought, she decided solidifying an alliance with the mages would be the best course of action.

"Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults," Cullen said. "We don't have the man power to assault it directly. If you go in there, you'll die, and we'll lose the only means we have of closing these Rifts. I won't allow it."

"And if we don't even try to meet Alexius," Leliana said, "we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep!"

"Even if we could assault the keep, it would be for naught!" Josephine said. "An 'Orlesian' Inquisition's army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied."

Cassandra clenched the table. "The magister—"

"—has outplayed us," Cullen finished.

Myra twisted her betrothal ring. She stared at the map for a long while, eyes fastened to the map where the marker over Redcliffe lay. Everyone waited for her to speak.

"We can't assault the castle directly…that much the Commander and Chief Diplomat have made clear…" She shook her head. "But there has to be another way. Do we have a map of Redcliffe? I'd like to take a closer look."

"I believe we do…" Josephine rifled through some of the books and found a Ferelden book of maps. She found the correct page and handed it to Myra. The Herald set it on the War Table and looked at it closely. A river separated Redcliffe Village from its castle, creating a natural barrier to ward off against assailants.

"There has to be another way in…" Myra murmured. "A sewer? A water course? Something…"

"There's nothing I know of that would work," Cullen leaned over the war table, tracing the map with his fingers.

"Wait," Leliana murmured.

Everyone looked to the Spymaster.

"There is a secret way into the Castle, an escape route for the family…" She pointed to a windmill that overlooked the Castle. "It's too narrow for our troops," she said, tracing the secret route across the map as if by memory, "but we could send agents through."

Cullen shook his head. "Too risky. Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the magister."

"That's why we need a distraction," Leliana said. "Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly?"

"While they're focused on Lavellan, we break the magister's defenses." Cullen scratched the stubble under his neck. "It…could work, but it's a huge risk."

Suddenly, the door burst open. "Fortunately, you'll have help." Dorian sauntered inside. Myra grinned.

"Your spies will never get past Alexius's magic without my help," he said. "So if you're going after him, I'm coming along."

Myra bowed her head a little. "Your assistance would be most welcome."

Dorian winked at her.

Cullen piped up. "The plan puts you in the most danger, Herald. We can't, in good conscience, order you to do this."

"I know the risks, Commander. This is the course I want to take."

"Then it's settled," Cassandra said.

"I'll ready my agents," Leliana said.

The meeting adjourned.