Inseparable Chapter 9
2 weeks later….
Matthew, Morrigan, Oghren, and Anders all marched through the gates into the City of Amaranthine, the center of the Arling, and one Fereldan's most prosperous cities. They were not alone, however; with them, armored in leather, with a longbow on his back, was one Nathaniel Howe, Rendon Howe's son and Thomas's brother, whose gaze of hatred had never left Matthew for the entire trip. Matthew did not feel surprised by this however; Nathaniel had returned from the Free Marches to the Arling in the aftermath of the Blight, to find his family slaughtered, his name disgraced, and Matthew Cousland, the man who had killed his father and brother ruling what were once his family's lands. In a rage, Nathaniel had infiltrated Vigil's Keep with the intention of killing Matthew, though he claimed that once he was there, he changed his goals to gathering some of his family's belongings, claiming Matthew's death would have changed nothing. Fortunately, Nathaniel had been caught, though it took four guards to subdue him.
While he was tempted to hang Nathaniel and erase the Howe name forever, Matthew decided to try and find out exactly what Nathaniel knew about his father's plot, in case he was innocent. He was very glad that he did; Nathaniel had no part in attack on Highever Castle, nor did he have any knowledge of his father's plans. This, a sudden feeling that the Howe name was worth preserving and redeeming, and the fact that Nathaniel was an excellent scout, spy, and archer, all contributed to Matthew's decision on what to do with him. Matthew smiled as he recalled the moment he announced Nathaniel's sentence…
Matthew stood leaning against the wall, Morrigan at his left hand, and Nathaniel slouched against the wall of his cell. Matthew had never seen such different facial expressions on different people in the same place; Nathaniel looked disgusted and enraged, Matthew was smiling slightly, looking amused, and Morrigan glared at Nathaniel, an expression of utmost fury on her face. When Nathaniel had revealed he was planning to kill Matthew, she had drawn her sword, Spellweaver, and had tried to decapitate the man. Matthew had managed to stop her, but her wolf-like eyes had never left Nathaniel, and her hand never left her blade's handle.
Finally, Seneschal Varel entered the dungeon."Ah, Commander, I am told you have decided what to do with our prisoner." "I have, Varel. Were you aware that this man is Nathaniel Howe?" Varel shook his head. "I did not, Commander, but I am not surprised; the Howes are implacable enemies." Nathaniel smirked at that comment. "Have you decided what is to be done with him?" "I have." Matthew smiled. "I wish to invoke the Right of Conscription."
Everyone in the room looked at Matthew as if he had suddenly grown a second head. "YOU WHAT!" Nathaniel shouted. "I'm sorry Commander," Varel stammered, "the Right of Conscription?" "No," Nathaniel spoke up, "Absolutely not. Hang me first!" Matthew glared at him, and growled, "Did I say I was giving you a choice, Nathaniel." Nathaniel started, and then muttered, "Is this a vote of confidence, or a punishment," mostly to himself.
"An…. Interesting solution, Commander," Varel said. He turned to Nathaniel, and said, "Come with me, ser. We'll see if you survive the Joining." Varel escorted Nathaniel out of the dungeon. Matthew was about to follow, when suddenly Morrigan came up to him, took off his helmet, and began running her fingers through his hair, as if searching for something. "What are you doing, love?" "I'm checking to see if the head injury you suffered at Ostagar is, in fact, healed." Morrigan was extremely perturbed. "The evidence suggests that my mother worsened the wound." Laughing, Matthew rapped his arm around Morrigan's waist, noticing that it had acquired a slight bulge, and led his love out of the dungeon.
Matthew was drawn out of his daydreaming by Anders striking up a conversation with Nathaniel. "So, Nathaniel, I understand that you are a Howe." "Another person who despises my family, I see." Nathaniel spat, turning his glare on Anders. Anders spread out his hands. "No no no, Nathaniel, I like the Howes. I also like the Whos, the Whens, and the Whats." "How clever," Nathaniel muttered. "Yes, it is shameful how long it took me to come up with that. Isn't that right, Ser Pounce-a-lot." He cooed to the kitten he carried in one of the pockets in his robe, which meowed at him.
"Isn't that name a little ridiculous?" Nathaniel asked, his tone indicating exasperation. "What," Anders demanded, "Do you think I should call him Fredrick? Or maybe "Meowspawn"?" "There are worse names, I suppose." "Meow!" Chuckling at the banter, Matthew refocused on the reason why they were in the city; to question the merchant's guild on the attacks that were taking place in the Wending Wood.
The Arling was, economically, in a very deep rut. None of the merchants or traders were getting passed the Wending Wood, which the main road between Amaranthine and Denerim ran through. Because of this, the treasury was completely empty, with nothing to repair the Keep, let alone prepare the Arling for all out war with the remnants of the blight. The dwarven stonemason, Voldrik Glavonak, had requested 80 sovereigns in order to repair the fortress adequately. Matthew had provided the money, but it had annihilated his own funds.
Therefore, his first priority was to get trade in the Arling flowing again.
Hence, he was headed toward the Merchant's guild headquarters, in order to get information on the attacks.
Suddenly, he noticed that Nathaniel had stopped in his tracks, and he had a look of wonder and disbelief in his eyes. Following his gaze, Matthew spotted a woman tending a stand with her back to them. Nathaniel walked up to her, and said in a quiet voice, "Delilah?" The women turned to him, and lit up with joy and relief. "Nathaniel!" she cried. "I had feared the worse." The two embraced each other, crying with happiness.
Matthew paused, and then remembered who the woman was; she was Delilah Howe, Nathaniel's sister. In the past, Rendon had dropped hints to Matthew's parents that he would like to arrange a marriage between Delilah and Matthew with all the subtlety of a war hammer. Bryce and Eleanor Cousland had been interested in the arrangement, but Matthew and Delilah were not; Matthew, who was 15 at the time, and in the midst of an abnormally fierce rebellious adolescence, had threatened to leave Highever forever and live as a commoner in Denerim rather than be related to the Howes. It had not been an empty threat; he was an excellent blacksmith, in addition to a warrior, even at this age, and was confident he could support himself. He had rounded off his argument be claiming that if his parents thought he was old enough to get married, than he was an adult, and could make his own decisions with his life. In addition, Delilah thought, rather accurately, that Matthew was an arrogant little burke.
In more recent years, Matthew had suspected, and in the last few days, the servants confirmed, that Rendon had lost his patience, and had locked Delilah in a room, with no food, and hardly any water, until Delilah agreed to the arrangement. By then, however, it had been too late, as he received a letter written by Matthew's father; Bryce had conceded defeat, and the marriage simply would not be happening. This marked the first time that Matthew's parents had ever given in to him, and Matthew did not squander the power that this gave him. It was what had convinced them to stop dragging him (sometimes literally) to the Chantry that he so despised, at 16, and why, two years later, he had been allowed to lead a force to quell a peasant uprising in Highever's lands, that proved to be the work of Orliesian spies. The only reason that this did not cause another war with their neighboring country was that the instigators proved to be fanatics that were wanted even in their own country.
Nathaniel step back, then said, with a pitying look in his eye, "Times must have been hard, Delilah. But you can do better than this. Come back to the estate until we find somewhere else." Matthew knew immediately what Nathaniel was talking about; one of the servants at Vigil's Keep had told Nathaniel that Delilah had married a merchant in Amaranthine. As she was, up until recently, a noble, this was scandalous at best. "What," Delilah asked, then she laughed. "Nathanial, I didn't marry Albert out of desperation, I adore him! And besides, he is so much better than that stuck-up Cousland brat Father was always trying to set me up with." "Um, hello, Delilah," Matthew spoke up. "I am right here. I can hear everything you're saying." Deliliah turned to him, then turned as red as a beet, and mumbled an apology.
Nathaniel laughed, and, hugging his sister, said, "It's alright Delilah; he does tend to be a bit stuck-up." Matthew looked incredulously at Nathaniel. "Again, I am right here." Grinning rather sadistically, he said "Come on, sister, let's go talk away from more…. Self-focused ears." The two siblings walked into Delilah's house, and closed the door. Matthew turned to Oghren, Morrigan, and Anders, all of whom were trying not to laugh. "I am here, correct? You all can see me, right?"
"So," Morrigan began, annoyance clear in her voice, "husband, would you like to explain why we climbing the stairs to the Chantry, when we both despise it so." "Because," Matthew explained, "the Chantry of Our Lady Redeemer is the wealthiest Chantry in the kingdom, and while the Revered Mother is a penny-pinching, hypocritical bitch, it is likely that several well-paying requests will be pinned to the Chanter's Board, pay that we desperately need, unfortunately. "Very well," Morrigan sighed, "I just never believed I would so object to improving our position."
Chuckling, Matthew began walking over to the Board, only to stop, as he saw a familiar figure at the balcony; snow white hair, dark, sapphire eyes, and scarlet Senior Enchanter ropes. This could only be one person.
"Wynne!" Matthew exclaimed, walking over to the women, who turned around, confirming that it was the Spirit Healer that had helped him end the blight. Wynne hugged him, and said, "It is good to see you again, my friend." "Likewise," Matthew said. Wynne smiled, then turned to Morrigan, saying, "Ah, Morrigan. Have anything insulting to say to me; how I am a dog on a leash, or perhaps a women of ill repute the Chantry loans to whomever it wishes?" "No, I do not," Morrigan replied. "At my love's insistence, I am making a conscious effort to be civil and respectful, even to those who do not deserve it." Wynne turned to Matthew, with a smile on her face and said, "You have made a great deal of progress with her; impressive." Morrigan glowered at the Circle Mage. "Yes," Matthew laughed, "but she isn't tame yet. Perhaps we should put on a pedestal, like Zevran suggested." Gales of merriment swept up the Arl and the Senior Enchanter, as Morrigan screeched and stormed away to the other side of the balcany, completely enraged.
"So, Wynne," Matthew said, after his laughter had subsided, "what brings you to Amaranthine? Shouldn't you be at court with Alistair, with Arl Eamon boring you about taxes and the exact amount of grain harvested this year?" Chuckling, Wynne replied, "Yes, but the College of the Magi is convening in Cumberland, and I must attend. Hopefully, the mess here in Amaranthine will have blown over by the time I return." It was then that Matthew noted the one emotion he had never seen on Wynne's face, and never thought he would see; uncertainty.
"What is wrong, Wynne," Matthew asked, concerned for his friend. "You look worried." "Something is stirring within the Fraternities, the mage political parties. The Libertarians wish to pull away entirely from the Chantry, and if they get enough support, they will." Matthew smiled at the thought of mages blasting away at their templar jailors. "Good," he crowed, "It's about time mages tried to free themselves."
Wynne suddenly bypassed fear, and looked terrified. "Matthew," she chided, "you know the dangers involved with magic; you know mages attract demons that try to possess them." Matthew exhaled, and then said, "Wynne, you and I both know that that doesn't happen anywhere near as often as the Chantry would have us believe it does. While I am a firm believer that mages should be properly instructed, and those that have congress with demons or use blood magic should be punished, that does not mean that your people should be imprisoned for your whole lives." "Matthew, I have told you; sometimes a few must sacrifice for the good of many, in this case mages."
Matthew shook his head sadly; he was beginning to loss his patience. "Wynne, you are a wonderful philosopher, but sometimes you are too wise for your own good. Nothing that the Chantry claims is a good enough reason for condemning mages for the actions of a few greedy Tevinter magisters; no reason is good enough to commit genocide on a people, as the templars tried to do during the Blight." He paused, and then continued softly, wondering if he was going too far. "No reason is good enough for taking away a mother's child at birth, before she can even look at it." An old, enormously painful sadness appeared in Wynne's eyes; that last scenario had happened to her.
Wynne then composed herself, and replied, "Perhaps, Matthew. However, a mage rebellion would be met with condemnation from everyone in Thedas. For better or worse, we must remain with the Chantry; can you name anyone who would support us?" "I would support you," Matthew replied immediately. "And Alistair would, you know how much he hates the templars. And Arl Eamon would as well; you saved his son Connor from being possessed by that desire demon." Wynne paused, searching for a cohesive argument, then said, "And the people of Fereldan? Why would they support us?" Matthew spread his arms, and exclaimed, "Why wouldn't they? The Hero of Fereldan, the Grey Warden King, and the Bannhammer all saying that the kingdom should rebel against an organization that is based in Orlais? The people would leap at this." A smile covered Matthew's face, and a fire lit in his eyes, as, in his mind's eye, he saw wave after wave of Fereldan soldiers and mabari war hounds cut down thousands of Chantry templars, freeing hundreds of mages, who unleashed the fury of the elements upon their former jailors. So engrossed was he by these prophecies of war, that he did not notice Wynne, who was now going pale, walk over to Morrigan, who was watching the as the city dwellers went about their lives.
"Morrigan," Wynne said in a shaking voice. Morrigan turned, summoned a false smile, and bowed low before her. "Yes, Senior Enchanter?" she asked, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "Morrigan, you must convince the teenager in a fully grown man's body that you have supposedly fallen in love with to abandon the idea that the Circles of Magi should be free of Chantry control." Morrigan arched an eyebrow. "And how do you propose I do this; I have made it quite clear that I believe that mages should be free, or at least want to be free." "That is not what I meant, Morrigan. He believes that mages should instigate an armed rebellion against the Chantry, and that the he and the rest of Fereldan's population would support it." Morrigan looked at Matthew with nothing less than proud, loving admiration. "And that is why I fell in love with Matthew Cousland. In any case, Wynne, if there is a man alive who can convince this backwards kingdom to rebel against this ridiculous religion, it is him."
"Stop it, Morrigan," Wynne hissed. "I believe that Matthew truly wishes for this to happen. He will risk destroying himself to see the Chantry cast down, and in so doing will condemn those who he wishes to aid." "And?" Morrigan asked, clearly not believing Wynne had elaborating enough. "And that scares me." Wynne finally admitted. "And why would it scare you? Are you afraid of the templars killing every mage in Thedas, and those who support them?" Morrigan then sneered at the Senior Enchanter as another thought occurred to her. "Or are you afraid that you might win, and be given the freedom that every living thing should have?"
With that, Morrigan walked past her, brought her husband out of his daydreams, and the two left to rejoin their companions. As soon as the couple was out of earshot, Wynne sighed, closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Maker help me. I would be terrified if we won."