Chapter 3: A Nasty Surprise
Lyssa woke to a soft kiss. She balled her fists against her eyes and tried to rub the bleariness from them. Alistair was standing next to the bed, leaning over her and stroking her hair. He was dressed in his high ceremonial regalia, ready to go to the annual Ferelden tournament.
"Be careful on your journey. I'll be extremely put out if you don't get to Duncan safely," Alistair said stroking her cheek.
Lyssa smiled and raised her hand to touch his, "You'll be put out?"
"There is nothing in this world or any other I love more than you. I mean it. Be safe," Alistair said seriously.
"And you," Lyssa said sitting up, "don't go doing anything too foolish now. I'll be waiting for you."
Alistair smiled down at Lyssa for a moment, and then turned and strode from the room. Lyssa looked at the door for a long time, a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. Lyssa got dressed and packed what little she would need for the trip. She touched her daggers—she so rarely had cause to wear them anymore. It was unseemly for a queen to go around armed. She almost decided to take them, but she was told specifically not to be armed for this trip. She needed to look the part of a commoner traveling with a trade caravan, so no weapons, no armor. She had only reluctantly agreed to this part of the plan.
Lyssa sighed as she closed the drawer with her blades. She had a little time before she had to leave and she had something she wanted to do. She picked up a heavy bundle from her closet and started toward the door when she heard a soft knock.
"Come in," Lyssa said, setting the bundle down.
"I'm sorry your majesty. I know you are getting ready to go, but you have asked us to bring these letters to you as soon as they arrive. I did not want you to miss it should you be gone for a while," Lyssa's handmaiden said handing Lyssa a weathered envelope.
"Thank you Faye. Can you tell the men I will be ready shortly? I want to visit with the Kennel Master before I go," Lyssa said. She ran her index finger across the familiar script on the envelope.
"Of course, my lady. Do be careful on your journey. We all pray to Andraste for your safe return," Faye said, leaving.
Lyssa sat down at her vanity and carefully opened the envelope. A delicate yellow bloom was tucked in the paper, carefully dried. Lyssa touched it with her fingertips smiling before she read the steady black script.
Tis said this flower only grows in the shadow of an ancient tree that is about to die. I do not know if this old tale is true, but I did indeed find this one at the base of an ancient oak clearly on its way out of this world. I hear things that make me worry for you. Take care to watch your back.
As always,
Your friend
Lyssa tucked the flower back into the envelope and put the envelope in a small drawer at her vanity. The drawer was full of similar envelopes. Lyssa carefully slid it closed. The letter had reminded her of something important. Lyssa pulled off the tiny ring on her pinky finger. She also undid the fine gold chain around her neck. Lyssa picked up a tiny grass pouch from her vanity and tucked the little ring and the amulet with the symbol of Andraste on it into the pouch. She carefully tied her long hair into a tight bun around the pouch. She looked in her mirror, slowly examining herself from every angle. No one would ever know she had anything in her hair, and even if they did find it, it would look like any other scented sachet a woman might use.
Lyssa left all her other jewelry, including her wedding ring on. If she was robbed on the road, nothing of real value would be taken from her. The things she felt were irreplaceable were hidden away safely in her hair. Lyssa stood and made her way down to the Kennel Master.
Lyssa petted various Mabari as she walked along the kennels, eventually reaching a smaller, quiet room at the end. She found Sten there, playing with several young Mabari pups. Lyssa smiled down at him. Sten noticed Lyssa and stood up abruptly, his huge bulk filling the tiny space.
"The training is going well with these young ones," he said stoically.
"I see that," Lyssa said smiling up at the huge man.
"I have chosen the hound I wish to give to Duncan for his birthday. Come," Sten said leading Lyssa toward a room full of boisterous puppies all around twelve weeks old.
Lyssa giggled as she bent down to pet the pups.
"You should take one, too," Sten said quietly as he watched Lyssa play with the small dogs.
Lyssa stared down at the tiny things and sighed. "I am not ready. Moby and I... we went through a great deal together. His death is too near."
Sten put his massive hand on Lyssa's shoulder. "When you are ready, let me know."
"Which one are you planning to give to Duncan?" Lyssa asked, turning to the huge Q'unari.
"That little black one," Sten said pointing to a small dog who was scratching herself in the corner of the room.
"The little one?" Lyssa asked surprised.
"She may be small, but she is fast. And very intelligent. She reminds me of you," Sten said a barely perceptible smile on his lips.
Lyssa smiled and looked down at her feet. "I do believe you are the only person to refer to me as small. Duncan will love the Mabari. It will likely be his favorite gift."
Sten looked down at Lyssa and a wider smile replaced the small one. Lyssa shook her head and hefted her package.
"You will be accompanying Alistair tomorrow, right?" she asked.
"Yes. I will be bringing the young Mabari with me. Something to keep the boy busy for the next few weeks," Sten said.
"Then, you will be needing this I think," Lyssa said unwrapping the great two handed sword.
Sten looked down at the huge blade for a moment before realization hit him. He took the sword from Lyssa and an indescribable look came across his face. He touched the hilt of the sword and gripped it with his great hands.
"How did you find it?" he asked his voice full of awe.
"Well, we've had fourteen years to look for it. It took some leg work on the part of more than a few of the king's knights, and a little coin as well. But, we figured you two should be reunited," Lyssa said, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice.
Her tone did not escape Sten. He looked at Lyssa quizzically. "I do not understand. You are not happy to return my weapon to me?"
"Oh no! I am truly pleased to return your weapon to you. But... I also know this means you can return home. I will miss you. As will Alistair. He wanted to be here to give this to you with me, but he has royal obligations. The tournament and everything," Lyssa said.
Sten looked down at the small Mabari crowding around his ankles, pawing him excitedly and giving excited little yips.
"If I wished to stay... would I be welcome?"
Lyssa looked up at Sten, surprised. "Sten, of course we would be overjoyed if you stayed, but... well I know you like us. But I think we've grown on you more like a moss. Surely you want to see your home again."
Sten reached down and stroked the ears of one of the pups. "I have heard many things of late of my people. Much has happened in the last fourteen years. If I should return, I do not think I would be returning to the Seheron I once knew. And... you have given me much to contemplate over the years. I have trusted you with my life kadan, and you have never failed me. I do not know if it is possible to ever repay the debt I owe you," Sten paused looking at his sword, "but I will continue to try. One day, I may decide to return. But that day is not now."
Lyssa smiled. "I am sure Alistair will be as pleased as I am. Take care of him for me, will you? I feel as if a cloud hangs over us all."
"I will not fail you kadan," Sten said.
**
Lyssa rode a raggedy horse. Her clothes were believably threadbare and dirty. They looked every bit a mundane mix of traders and commoners. However, the unassuming covered wagons in front and behind her were actually filled with guards, not goods.
The old man riding alongside her urged his horse to canter a little closer to Lyssa.
"Eamon, do you think we're really fooling anyone?" Lyssa asked as they trotted along the dusty road.
"Well, your generals seem to think so anyway. It does seem rather risky though," Eamon scanned the edge of the road.
"Yes, I shall have to ask Duncan about this letter of his. It is most unusual for him to act in this manner. I would think he would know better than to compel Alistair to come running after him when things are so dangerous," Lyssa said.
"Well, I guess I can't really blame him. If Connor was in the same situation as Duncan, I'd probably come running, too," Eamon said.
"Yes, and if Duncan were a normal child, I wouldn't say anything. But Duncan is not normal, and he knows better," Lyssa said absently.
Eamon looked over at Lyssa surprised. This was the first he had heard such a thing.
"What do you mean, Duncan is not normal? I know he was born with the taint, but...," Eamon trailed off.
Lyssa cursed silently at her indiscretion.
"I should not have spoken of it. This journey makes me wary. My concentration is elsewhere. Do not worry yourself overmuch about it. He is... he is just very prescient. Perhaps it is the taint, perhaps it is the education and training we are requiring of him. Whatever the case, he speaks as if he is channeling his namesake. It is unsettling, but nothing more. It does mean he should know better than to push his father like this. In fact, that may be why I am so nervous. It is very unlike Duncan to act in such a petulant manner. I suppose it could mean there is something truly wrong at the Tower, and it is a good thing we are going to him. But... there is just something. In any case, you will see for yourself when we get there. He will be a very capable ruler, even at the young age he must assume the crown," Lyssa said.
"I'll never quite understand that decision. If Alistair's would just take a consort..." Eamon began before Lyssa cut him off.
"The Landsmeet said as much. I told him as much. Alistair was, and is, unwilling to do so," Lyssa said curtly.
"I see," Eamon said looking at Lyssa curiously, "Even though you gave him permission?"
"I more than gave him permission. It was not pleasant… I do not relish remembering it," Lyssa said sighing.
"To worry so much about spending one night with another woman, when your wife has already...," Eamon began as Lyssa cut him off yet again.
"I'm sorry Eamon, I do not wish to be rude. I count you among one of our most trusted friends. But this is not a topic I wish to speak on. Let me just say that Alistair has his reasons. One of which is that Alistair is unsure of how long he would need to carry on such a… relationship, in order to bear another child. By the time we realized Duncan had the taint, Alistair had been a Grey Warden for six years. The longer you are a Grey Warden the harder it is to father children. It would likely take far more than one night for him to be fruitful. He does not know if he would even be physically capable of doing this with a woman he felt nothing for. The other reason... is too personal to discuss at this time. Suffice it to say he will not do this thing, and I wish to discuss it no longer."
They rode for a while in silence before Eamon spoke up again.
"I truly did not wish to offend you. It is just something that has been spoken about amongst the nobles. I have never really understood it, but... I also never really understood everything Grey Wardens give up for the people of Ferelden. I understand Alistair's reasons now. I would also have found it difficult to spend so many nights away from Isolde, particularly knowing that it bothered her so. When I found out Connor was a mage, I knew I would have to leave my estate to Teagan. Mages cannot be nobles, at least not yet. I could have tried to have another son, but Isolde... she was already at an age where it would have been dangerous to try. And Connor, well he is our son. If I had another child, the child would not be Isolde's.
"Sometimes from our position as nobles, all we can see is the King and Queen of Ferelden. We do not see the people who live those lives, only the positions they hold. It can be easy for us to pass judgment without thinking on it too much. I apologize for my insensitivity. I have always been fond of Alistair. He has always had a good heart. I am glad to see that being King has not stripped him of that," Eamon said.
Lyssa was silent for the rest of the ride. She stared out at the landscape trying not to remember old arguments. Sometimes she wished Alistair had never gotten the courage to fight for the throne. She knew he felt the same on occasion. But looking back at the past would not undo it. She looked up at the fading light in the sky and then scanned the road side ahead.
"I think we should set up camp," Lyssa said. "It is getting dark."
"Yes, I agree. There is a suitable place just over there," Eamon said, "I'll tell the men to be discreet. If anyone is watching us, and they see a bunch of soldiers in our wagons, they'll know immediately that something isn't as it seems."
**
Lyssa never had a chance to react. The bag was over her head before she knew what was happening. She began to struggle for just a moment, before she felt a smashing blow land on her skull, and then she knew only bright flashes of color, sounds that seemed far off and muffled, and then, nothing.
The band of Q'unari were quickly dispatching the guards. A Q'unari on horseback rode up to two of his brethren, one of whom carried a woman across one shoulder. She was bound and limply swayed across the Q'unari's massive, muscled back, with each of his long, powerful strides.
"That her?" the mounted Q'unari asked, looking down from his horse.
"Yes. She didn't put up a fight at all. This is the Grey Warden who stopped the Blight?" the Q'unari with Lyssa's unconscious body draped across his shoulder asked skeptically.
"It was an ambush. She was told not even to be armed. It was not a fair fight. She will be very dangerous when she awakes. Do not forget that," the huge Q'unari said.
The Q'unari stared, still incredulous, at their mounted comrade for a moment, and then at each other. They both shrugged. They hoisted Lyssa up alongside the mounted Q'unari. Just as he turned to leave the duo, a fourth Q'unari approached from a nearby tent. He forced a bloodied older man ahead of him, shoving him intermittently.
"You," the mounted Q'unari said to Eamon, "You will be left alive. You will tell the King we have his Queen. You will tell the King if the country of Ferelden does not convert to the Qun, we will send your queen back in a box. And then we will come and take forcefully what you could have given peacefully. The choice is yours. Do you understand?"
"Do you understand," Eamon defiantly husked, "that you have a Grey Warden there? It is not Ferelden that will come after you. It is something far more deadly."
"We are the Q'unari. We do not have these Grey Wardens. We have never needed them. Only the humans have need of these things. Stab him Karashok. We will go now."
The Q'unari that had shepherded Eamon out from the tent calmly pulled a small blade, perhaps a hand's span in length, from his waist. Before Eamon had a chance to even try to pull away from his grasp, without a flicker of emotion, his captor smoothly stabbed Eamon in the leg, shoving the blade in to the hilt in one motion. Eamon cried out. As the Q'unari withdrew the blade, Eamon collapsed to ground, grasping his leg in a futile attempt to stave off the pain. Blood already welled under his hands and began to pool under his leg. He would not be following them, or raising help. The Q'unari had made certain of that.
Eamon fumed. He welcomed the anger. It burned with such intensity. He hated these Q'unari, and he wanted to kill them, to kill them all. As another wave of pain hit, and then ebbed with that strange dull feeling of such a deep and grievous wound, he wondered how he let this happen. He watched helplessly as the band of Q'unari left with Lyssa, vanishing northward into the forest. As the last one disappeared from sight, Eamon finally looked around at the camp site. Every man, all twenty, lie dead. They had been caught almost completely unaware, to a man. Eamon cursed, and then, inevitably, fell backwards, letting anger give way, as it must, to grief, helplessness, and the numbness that crept up from his wound, finally taking his consciousness from him.
**
Alistair was riding quickly with Connor, Sten and Gildre. They were wearing the King's livery save for Connor, who was wearing a noble's garb. To anyone looking, they simply seemed be a group of guards escorting a noble back home after the tournament. Alistair was hoping they might catch up to Lyssa and surprise her. They had started out the night before, right after the tournament. Alistair did not want to admit to anyone that he had been uneasy since Lyssa had left, but his companions knew him too well not to notice, so they kept up the pace without asking questions. The sun was high in the sky and Alistair had been chatting happily with Gildre as they rode.
When Alistair saw the first body his heart nearly stopped. He jumped off of his horse and ran to the soldier in the road. It was then he saw the massacre that had been the campsite.
"Lyssa!" Alistair screamed out as he frantically searched the bodies. Gildre, Connor and Sten came running into the camp.
"By the Maker," Connor said, his hand over his mouth.
"Vashedan!" Sten said leaning over one of the bodies and flipping it so he could see if the soldier was still alive.
Gildre stood in shock as he watched Alistair ripping tents open and tossing things around searching for any sign of Lyssa. Gildre felt himself riveted to the spot, unable to act. He feared the worst. He heard a groan come from the left and he ran towards it. He found Eamon lying there on the ground. Eamon moaned and moved slightly. He was bleeding from a wound on his leg and barely conscious.
"Father!" Connor shouted as he ran to Eamon's side.
Connor quickly began casting healing spells while Gildre applied a healing poultice Eamon's wound.
"Eamon," Alistair ran to the old man and fell to his knees beside him. "Eamon, where is Lyssa? She isn't here!"
"No," Eamon said weakly. "They took her. Q'unari. Headed north. A party of fifteen, maybe a few more, all on horseback."
Alistair stood and turned to go, but Sten's hand shot out and grabbed his arm.
"How long ago?" Sten asked Eamon, restraining Alistair. Alistair tried to pry Sten's fingers off his arm without much success.
"Let me go you bloody giant!" Alistair screamed.
Eamon coughed and tried to sit up. "Last night. Twelve hours, maybe more," he finished, his voice ragged.
Sten turned to Alistair and shook his head, "They are gone kadan. They are already at sea. Q'unari are fast. They will not stop to rest until their mission is done. Do not run blindly. I know it is difficult, but you must consider your actions."
"They wanted me to tell... you something, Alistair," Eamon said.
Alistair turned from Sten to Eamon.
"They said they would kill her if we did not convert to the Qun. They said they would invade if Ferelden did not convert." Eamon coughed.
Alistair screamed angrily and punched a tree with his fist. "They may as well have killed her already. Why do they toy with us? What is this? This is not the way of the Q'unari."
"No," said Sten, "The Q'unari I know would never use such tactics. Kidnapping women... they may as well be common bandits. There is something wrong here."
Alistair sat on a nearby log. "Do you think they have taken her to Seheron?" Alistair asked Sten without looking at him.
"That would be the logical decision. The Q'unari fortifications are strong there. The ships surrounding the island will keep most invaders out," Sten said.
"Then we have to go there. We have to take a small force, sneak in and we have to get Lyssa, and bring her back." Alistair stood and headed towards his horse.
"Alistair," Eamon said standing weakly, "You know what the Landsmeet will say. They will not let you go. You are the king of Ferelden."
"Then we won't tell them what we are doing. We'll go to Denerim and gather up what soldiers we can. Then we leave for Seheron," Alistair said mounting his horse.
"Alistair, what of Duncan?" Gildre asked, his voice quiet.
Alistair stopped his horse and stared north for a moment. He did not look like he was planning to turn around.
"I will go to Duncan," Connor said. "I will also see if there are any mages who will help us." He hopped onto his horse. "Father, you should be okay to ride. I have healed all your wounds. I will return with help, hopefully before your ship launches. If not, we will be following close behind."
"Connor... thank you. Tell Duncan I'm sorry, and that... we will see him soon," Alistair said still facing north.
Sten approached Connor and handed him a wriggling sack. An excited Mabari pup stuck its head out the side. The pup licked Sten's hand as Sten carefully slung the sack over Connor's shoulder.
"Take this to Duncan. He may find need of it in the coming days," Sten said patting the small black dog on the head.
"I'll make sure he gets it. Take care of Alistair. Do not let him do anything foolish," Connor said patting the huge man on the arm.
"This I will do," Sten said, and then he turned to join Alistair's already retreating horse. Connor watched them for a moment before turned to head to the Circle Tower.