Chapter 6 : An Abetted Escape

Lyssa woke slowly. She was warm, nearly hot. She felt a humid breeze brush her back. The sensation made her shiver, just slightly, and then she remembered. She snapped to full attention. She didn't recognize the room she was in. It was richly appointed, although in a style Lyssa did not immediately recognize. The large open room had thick looking stone walls. She scanned them, noting that there was just one small window. It was clearly barred. The warm breeze that wafted in and out it carried the occasional scents of incense and exotic spices. The walls were covered in elaborate tapestries. Had she been in the mood to appreciate them, Lyssa would have said they were remarkably beautiful.

Lyssa gingerly touched the back of her head. A painful lump greeted her probing fingers, right where she expected it would be. At least it didn't feel like the skin had split.

Lyssa looked down at herself. Her clothes were all still intact, but all her jewelry had been taken. She carefully touched the bun of hair at the back of her head and a relieved sigh escaped her as she felt the familiar soft lump within. She left it there for the time being, tightening the bun a little. Lyssa bent down and slipped off her right shoe. In the toe was a tiny health poultice. She did not need much, as Alistair's always impressive herbology skills had only gotten better with practice, and he had reached the status of master herbologist years ago. She tipped the liquid back into her throat and immediately felt the pain in her head dissipate. She reached back and applied a small dab of the poultice to the lump, wincing. But even as she touched the lump, she felt the pain subside and then, within seconds, she felt the lump begin to shrink.

After she had carefully replaced the remainder of the poultice in her shoe and shoved her foot back into it, Lyssa stood and looked around the room more carefully. Lyssa walked to the room's sole window. She flung the curtains bracketing the window wide. The window's bars were made of thick iron. She peered over the edge of the window and guessed she was about three stories up. From what she could see of the exterior of the building, she was in a castle or fortress of some type. The architecture reminded her of something. She was trying to place it when she spotted the Q'unari guards. The Q'unari, the tapestries, the thick, somewhat uneven, but sturdy stonework, the smell of spice on the air, it all pointed to the Q'unari homelands.

Seheron, Lyssa thought. Of course that made sense. But how long have I been unconscious? Did they drug me? And why go through all this trouble to capture me? This all seems, wrong…

Lyssa moved to the door and attempted to open it. It was made of large planks of wood, reinforced with thick bands of iron. The door was locked, as she expected, but her attempt was noted by someone outside. She heard them move to the door. The lock clicked, and then the door swung slowly open. A guard stood in it, his sword drawn.

"You are awake," the Q'unari guard said simply.

Then he closed the door. Lyssa stared after him blankly.

"Well, I guess all Q'unari are as loquacious as Sten," Lyssa said to herself.

She saw some bread and water on a dresser, but decided against eating it. Lyssa figured if she had a dangerous Q'unari prisoner in her castle, she wouldn't hesitate to drug him to keep him docile. She looked around some more, lifting tapestries away from walls and studying the stonework. She was just about to lift the mattress off the bed when she heard a noise at the door. She sat on the bed facing the door instead, her hand resting on her thigh.

A large Q'unari man entered, followed by two more who were clearly guards. Lyssa stared at them blankly.

"I am Kithshok," the huge Q'unari said.

"Ah, then perhaps you can answer a question for me, commander. Have the Q'unari added kidnapping to their tactics? It seems so... Antivan," Lyssa said.

One of the guards growled a little. He began to step forward. Kithshok raised his hand to halt the guard's motion.

"I am only charged with executing this kidnapping, not analyzing it's worthiness as a strategy," he paused for a moment, fixing Lyssa in his gaze, "regardless what my Q'unari nature tells me. But it is not my place to question the orders of the Arishok. I would not even have allowed you to see anyone, were it not for the respect I have for what you have done for my people; of your defeat of the dark Atashi in the city of Denerim. I know that had you not done so, the darkspawn would have soon come." Kithshok turned to the guards and motioned for them to leave. They reluctantly did so. When they were alone, he returned his gaze to Lyssa.

"There is a plan for a public hanging tomorrow. Whether or not it is you, someone will die. The corpse, with all your trinkets, will be burned and sent in a box to Ferelden. Your King will believe you are dead. If you are truly a warrior of your people, you may be able to do something about this. If you cannot, then I do not know that I care one way or the other.

"If you can change your destiny, know this. Many of my people do not understand the decisions of the Arishok. I myself do not, but he is Arishok. It is true that one day my people will come to Ferelden. That is inevitable. But I will not live to see that day. Nor will those Q'unari who are born today. But if your people come marching onto Q'unari lands, we will fight to protect ourselves. Many lives will be needlessly lost. Many will believe they understand the war, but few will know the truth. Now, I have done all I can for you."

With that Kithshok backed out of the room, watching Lyssa carefully. The door closed and Lyssa was left with her thoughts. The unusually talkative Q'unari had given Lyssa a lot of information. She hiked up her skirt and slipped a small blade out of the sheath on her thigh. Before she had talked to Kithshok, she had thought the overlooking of this small blade an odd oversight.

Lyssa moved to the window and began digging away at the hard dried clay that held the bars in place. Lyssa was glad to see her earlier assessment had been correct. This was no prison cell, but a guest room that had only recently, and luckily for her, somewhat shoddily, been converted to hold her. It was dark by the time she had chipped enough of the clay out to remove one of the bars. Lyssa hoisted herself up onto the window sill and looked down over the edge.

"Yup, three stories," she said to herself.

Lyssa hopped back down from the window. She hurriedly sliced her gown up the middle and cut off the lower quarter. She tied the ends around her legs creating a makeshift pair of short trousers. She ripped the sleeves off of her arms and cut the cloth into strips, which she wrapped around the palms of her hands, leaving her fingers free. Lyssa stared back at the door and then walked to the window again. The light had all but faded from the sky.

Lyssa hoisted herself up to the window again. She slowly squeezed through the gap in the bars she had made. She carefully edged out onto the ledge and peered down the wall. As she had hoped, the thick uneven stones provided a host of small lips and cracks. It looked scalable to Lyssa, but only just. Lyssa lifted and lowered her full weight a few times on the upper lip of the window to prepare her arms for the workout they were about to endure. She watched the ground carefully and spotted a pair of Q'unari guards. She observed their pace for a while. She glanced around at the boundaries of the castle, making a guess at the guards' route. She made some quick, rough calculations. She thought she might have as much as a quarter hour before the guards, just now rounding a corner and disappearing, would return. Lyssa carefully lowered herself over the edge of the window and onto the side of the building. She began the slow and arduous process of climbing down.

**

Gildre had stopped at a traveling salesman first thing when he arrived in Seheron. He bought some clothes in a style he had seen some of the local elves wearing. He also managed to purchase a solid looking horse for a good price. He rode fast to the capital city of Seheron. He did not stop to rest once along the way. He was driven; an adrenaline edge, a clarity of purpose, kept him riding through the night. He only slowed when his steed, exhausted, would refuse to do more than canter.

It took Gildre some time to learn of Lyssa's whereabouts. He spent several hours in each pub he found, before moving on to the next, casually listening in on conversations. Finally, he found a tavern that primarily served elves. There were several prostitutes here and Gildre purchased a night with a male elf. The elf, significantly Gildre's elder, lighted up with delight as Gildre approach him.

Gildre spent most of an hour flirting with the elf, before adroitly steering the conversation to the current state of the city. The older elf, eager to please this beautiful young thing, was thrilled that Gildre wanted to gossip with him.

"Oh yes, big news. You haven't heard? I expect we'll all be killed shortly when that handsome king from Ferelden comes marching in here to avenge his queen. I can't wait. I've never seen the man, but from what I hear, he is quite the looker. And men in armor, they make me a little crazy," the older elf said touching Gildre's arm and batting his eyes. "Perhaps there will be some… pillaging after the young King conquers us," the older elf teased in a playful voice.

"You aren't afraid," Gildre said admiringly, holding onto the prostitute's hand.

The older elf blushed and said, "Well, I've lived as a Qun long enough to know once the Arishok decides something, it is that way. The Chantry has all these Q'unari up in a tizzy. I plan to slink back off to elven lands if it gets real hairy, which I hear it's going to. There's going to be a public hanging of the queen, tomorrow. Then they are going to burn the body and send what's left back to Ferelden. I want to be gone before any of that nastiness. Let's not talk of such crude things. As a matter of fact, let's not talk at all!"

The older elf leaned in to Gildre and nibbled on his ear. Gildre stifled the urge to push the elf away and allowed him to continue. But Gildre also kept talking.

"I hear she's a Grey Warden. Such a dangerous person. I bet they locked her up in the deepest dungeon in the castle," Gildre said as he pulled just out of range of the prostitute's questing mouth.

"Oh, I would have thought so too! But a friend of mine, a servant in the castle, says for some reason they are actually keeping her up on the third floor. I looked at the window this morning, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman, but alas she never showed her face," the prostitute said sliding closer to Gildre.

"You actually saw the window?" Gildre asked in awe.

"Oh yes, it's easy to pick it out. They put bars on it a few days ago. My friend says there was a big fight in the castle over it actually. One of the Sten's mentioned something about it being insecure. Boy did the Kithshok let him have it. Anyway, if you want to see it… after... I'm sure we can head over together," the older elf said, walking his fingers up Gildre's arm.

"Oh, I can't wait! I would like to go now. The chance to see the queen of Ferelden, a Grey Warden, so close," Gildre said, making his voice husky.

"Now? But things were just getting interesting," the elf pouted.

"I'll be back, don't you worry," Gildre said leaning toward the older elf and giving him a lingering kiss.

When Gildre pulled away, the old elf sighed, his eyes closed, "I'll count the minutes."

Gildre walked to the front of the tavern, grabbing the first pint of ale near him and downing it quickly.

"Hey!" an elf sitting at the table next to Gildre exclaimed angrily.

"Sorry about that, had to do it. Here, next few are on me," Gildre said dropping a sovereign on the table.

The elf sitting at the table picked up the sovereign, smiling. "Thanks mate!"

"The things I do for love," Gildre muttered to himself as he exited the tavern. He took in a long, deep breath of the warm, scented air. He released it slowly, and then headed toward the huge castle at the edge of the city.

The place was crawling with guards. The light was dimming when Gildre tried to circle the castle as casually as he could. There was a ten foot stone wall all around the castle, with one gate that was heavily guarded by at least twenty Q'unari. Gildre continued around the castle until he finally found the barred window on the third floor.

Gildre looked around. Of all the places in the castle they could have kept Lyssa, this seemed most strange. The area beyond the wall was wooded. The only sign of civilization on this side of the castle was a stable that held a few horses, and one snoozing stable boy. This small shack was obviously not the castle's main stable. Normally it would likely have served as a home for the castle's draft animals. But the sheer number of guards Gildre had already seen meant it was likely the Arishok had called in all available Q'unari in the area, which meant even this small stable was pressed into service. Gildre noted that the sounds of the city drifting this way were soft and distant on this side of the castle.

Gildre scratched his chin, puzzled, as he contemplated the surprisingly obvious escape route.

"Someone has done me a favor anyway," he said to himself.

He turned back to the castle. He sat down at the base of the wall behind a ratty bush that had managed to avoid being cleared. He listened carefully for the sound of the patrolling guards. As they passed, he timed it and figured they came every quarter hour. He waited until the sun set to put his plan into action.

As darkness fell, Gildre stood up and stretched. He pulled a small rope out of his pack and tied a little hook on the end. He waited for the guards to pass and tossed the rope up, letting it catch on the uneven stone. He quickly scaled the wall and looked up to the window. What he saw almost made him lose his balance.

Lyssa was about halfway down the side of the castle. Gildre's heart stopped when he saw her. He couldn't for the life of him see what it was she was holding onto.

"Oh, Mythal, see her through," Gildre let out an involuntary prayer.

Gildre's eyes darted to the well worn path that the patrol walked and he saw a couple of guards approaching. He flattened himself along the top of the wall and looked up concerned at Lyssa's exposed position. He pulled his long blade slowly as the two Q'unari approached, but before he could react, Lyssa had launched herself off the side of the castle from about fifteen feet up.

Lyssa landed adroitly on one of the huge Q'unari guards. She had half hoped he would go down under her weight, but she was prepared when he didn't. She plunged the small blade, which she had held in her teeth as she climbed the wall, deep into the big man's throat. It took some work since the blade had dulled considerably. The Q'unari fell to the ground clutching his throat. The other guard, still standing, looked down at Lyssa in shock.

Lyssa attempted to pull her tiny blade from the throat of the first Q'unari but it was stuck on something. She jumped up and jabbed her fingers with all her strength into the throat of the second Q'unari before he could raise the alarm. The huge man grabbed at his neck, choking. Then Lyssa heard a fervent whisper.

"Lyssa!"

Lyssa looked up at the top of the wall surrounding the castle. Then she saw Gildre's face peering down at her. He tossed down her blades in a bundle. Lyssa caught them one handed, using the other hand to whip out a blade and finish the choking Q'unari. She then slung her blades onto her back and ran quickly to the wall. She launched herself into the air, reaching for Gildre's outstretched hand. Gildre grabbed her arm, but he was smaller than Lyssa and struggled to pull her up. Lyssa pushed off the wall with her feet and climbed while Gildre pulled. They nearly toppled over as she crested the wall.

"Come on," Lyssa tugged on his sleeve, "we have about ten minutes before the next set of guards gets here."

They climbed down the rope and Lyssa crept up to the sleeping stable boy. She drew a dagger and hit the young man just enough with the pommel to send him from snoozing to solidly unconscious. The stable boy slumped over on his stool. Lyssa paced behind the horses for a few seconds before choosing the largest one. She led it out of the stable by the reins.

"Lyssa, that horse will never let you ride it," Gildre said.

"Step back for a minute," Lyssa said readying herself.

"Yeah, but Lyssa," Gildre began.

"This will be tricky, watch yourself." With that, Lyssa leapt into the air, and barely touching the stallion with her hands, alighted atop the tall beast.

The powerful black horse immediately reared under Lyssa's unfamiliar hands. It bucked a few times, but Lyssa held on tightly. As it continued bucking, she pulled back firmly on the reins, pulling his head back. She placed her cheek on the creature's neck, while she firmly gripped the reins in her right hand, she gently stroked the horse with her left.

"I know you don't like me, but I need you. I'll let you come back when I'm done, but for a little while, you need to help me," Lyssa cooed.

After a few seconds, the horse calmed. Gildre watched, speechless.

Lyssa looked at him. "It's no magic. Beggars can't be choosers on the battlefield. If your horse is struck down, you must take another. I learned by trial and error. My father used to say I was lucky I never got kicked. I told him you have let yourself be thrown off to be kicked. Come on, unless you want to tame one yourself, you'll need to ride with me," Lyssa said, extending her arm to Gildre.

Gildre grabbed it, and swung up behind her on the horse. It complained a little, but Lyssa shushed it. Lyssa prodded the stallion, and it began to trot.

"Where do you suggest we go? I was just trying to get away from the city. Is there somewhere specific we should head?" Lyssa asked.

"Actually, there is a spot I saw as I came through. Head south until you come to a good sized stream, then follow the stream east. I stopped for water there. It is quiet and away from the road," Gildre said glancing back the way they came. He was glad to see they weren't being followed.

Lyssa urged the horse to a gallop, and they rode on.