"I can't believe we're sneaking in through the basement."
Cailan's whisper was pointed. He was damp and annoyed and he just wanted to get this over with. His uncle's wife and son were in trouble. It added an urgency to his own desire to help. Saving women and children was always a big deal.
Isobel smirked to herself as she climbed up the ladder that led into the basement of Castle Redcliffe. It was incredibly dark and musty down here, but it was the easiest way in. Bann Teagan had assured them of that. "Would you rather we go in through the front gates?" she asked him, glancing over her shoulder to look down to the king. He stood at the bottom of the ladder, holding onto it for support, eyes averted for two very different reasons. Decency being one of them, and the other being that he was absorbed in his own thoughts. Isobel groaned inwardly, resting her chin on her arm. "Don't answer that." Turning back to her ascent, she rolled her eyes. "Of course you want to go through the front gates."
He was lucky to even be here. Teagan was adamant about the group leaving Cailan back in town, but she felt she owed the king some small gift for him saving her the night before. He'd shown a strength she hadn't expected. The king was a skilled fighter indeed.
When Isobel finally reached the top, she unlocked the hidden door with the key Teagan had given her and lifted it open. As expected, there was nothing but straw in the room. She took a slow breath of relief before turning around and gesturing for Cailan to climb up next. Pulling herself up and onto the cool stone floor, she turned and grasped the ladder to keep it steady.
Cailan was much quicker on the ladder than she was despite the weight of his armor. Most of his speed could be blamed entirely on his eagerness to throw himself into whatever presented itself. The ladder creaked and shuddered in her hands, but it stood true. She thanked the Maker for that. After reaching the top, Cailan found himself right before the face of a kneeling Isobel. He hovered there for a moment, their eyes locked. Her lips parted as if she was going to say something, but she closed them soon after. He could tell that she wanted to turn away, pulled by that uncharacteristic reserve that always overcame her when she came in close contact with someone. But she didn't. It was as if she couldn't.
The feeling of the next man mounting the ladder tore them both out of their reverie, and Cailan hoisted himself into the room. Isobel stood, turning away from the ladder and the king, making as if she was looking around the small chamber. Her fingers ran absently through the ends of her hair, her eyes glued to the floor beneath her feet. Cailan held the ladder for the three who followed - Alistair, Godfrey, and Arryn. She was a small, slight thing - an elf and a mage, two traits most Fereldens readily reviled. After arriving that morning by chance, she'd been conducted into their little company without a word of protest from the girl, though she was looking mighty pale now.
Godfrey held out a hand to help her into the room, and she took it meekly. "Thank you, ser." Her voice was musical, and he bristled with pomp before bending his head in acceptance of the gratitude.
Everyone turned to Isobel, who was standing very close to the only door leading out of the room, her ear pressed to the wood. She could hear something on the other side, a familiar clanging and grunting that sent a chill straight through her. Cailan went to her side, leaning in to listen for himself. He turned away after only a moment, his lips curling downwards. "Corpses," he whispered. "We have to have some plan of attack."
Isobel nodded, "It'd be a lot more helpful if we had someone with use of a bow." Her eyes trailed from weapon to weapon, all swords and a mage. Why hadn't she thought of this before? "Arryn."
The elf turned to her, "Yes, ser?"
"Can you slow them down for us? We'll need time to get into position, and we won't have that long without your help."
Cailan watched Isobel as she ran through the ideas in her head aloud. From what little he knew of her, he was surprised to see that each tactic was sound. A girl of noble blood dishing out stratagem like it was a song learned from birth - he couldn't believe it. There was a rushed tremor in her voice, but her eyes were alight as her hands moved in time with her words. She enjoyed this. So he wasn't the only one who took pleasure from these sorts of things, no matter the severity of the problems at hand. He would have to ask her about this later.
With a approach decided upon, Isobel took a step back to allow Arryn to stand before the door. The Grey Warden fingered the latch, looking to the mage who nodded. She was ready. They were all ready. Ready for what none of them truly knew.
Giving the door a hard shove, Isobel fell in behind the mage, her hands going to the grips of her weapons. The corpses at the other side of the room were on alert, and they broke off into a run at the sight of the mage. Arryn thrust her staff into the air, a wave of ice filling the room before them. The chill froze the demons where they stood, and the soldiers broke off into a run. The first three corpses went down without so much as a hesitation, but the last gave a chilling bellow before he fell, hitting the ground where he stood.
"They're all going to know you're here now," came a voice from their left. Isobel turned quickly, her sword lifted in defense, only to find a man standing behind a set of strong iron bars. He was visibly shaken, no doubt the aftermath of being nearly frozen by their mage.
"Who are you?" Isobel asked, taking a wary step forward, closer to the cell.
The man shrugged and shook his head, ragged black hair dusting the hallows of his cheeks. "What does it matter? I'm in a cell, and those things are going to come and kill me now that you're here. I was doing well enough like this."
"Who are you?" she asked again, her sword sliding between the bars to hover a hair's breadth from his throat. "Tell me now."
He took a step away from her, indifferent to her blade. "My name is Jowan. I was the young prince's tutor."
"And why is the young price's tutor in the dungeon?"
Isobel's attention to the prisoner grasped that of the rest, and they all stood, staring at this man for no particular reason. "Isobel, we should focus on more important things," Alistair interjected, but she waved him off.
"I… Well, I suppose there's nothing keeping me from telling the truth now, is there?" Jowan cleared his throat, pacing the floor nervously. The man was full of energy and fear, and he moved around like a caged animal. "I was the one who poisoned -"
Jowan's eyes widened at the sight of Cailan, who'd finally stepped up beside Isobel to take a look at the prisoner. The king went white, his mouth falling into a line. "You're the bastard who poisoned my uncle, aren't you?"
"Maker's breath," Jowan whimpered. It was as if he'd seen a ghost. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't expect to see you here. I didn't even think you were still alive. Loghain said you were dead. I… I believed him. How did you survive? Why are you here? If that thing sees you, it'll, it'll..."
"Speak!" Cailan roared. "Loghain sent you? How much gold did he pay you to murder my uncle, mage? How much!?"
"E-enough, your Majesty," Jowan replied. His head fell, ashamed. "Please, I know how it seems. Poisoning the arl was a terrible, terrible thing, but I'm not behind everything else that's happening here! I swear it!"
"Do you think that's enough for us to let you go?" Isobel asked him. "Your word is worth little more than dust as it is. We cannot trust you so far as we can throw you."
Jowan went to take a step forward, closer to the bars, but hung back when he saw a feral gleam in Cailan's blue eyes. "I-I know it looks suspicious, but I'm not responsible for the creatures and the killings in the castle." A vein of desperation ran through his voice, but there was a sincerity there that rang true. "I was already imprisoned when all that began!"
"For poisoning my uncle!" Isobel reached out and grasped Cailan's arm, turning him to her. His eyes were wide with rage, and his breathing was difficult. He could hardly think for all that he wanted to say. "We can't just let him go. No. No, that's not even an option. We kill him now and rid ourselves of some wretched man clawing at our backs while we're trying to save Eamon."
"I'm not stupid," Jowan protested. "There's five of you. You're all heavily armed. If anything, I'd be safer trying to help you than hurt you."
Cailan ignored Jowan completely, staring down at Isobel. "I refuse to let you do this. You have to listen to me. I'm your king." At the word, Isobel's eyebrows furrowed. He'd pulled rank on her, something she hadn't expected coming into this. "We kill him now."
"He doesn't have to die," Alistair intoned from behind him. "Surely he could be of some use to us."
"I recognize him." Everyone turned to Arryn, who'd spoken up for the very first time since they'd met those few hours ago. "He is a very powerful mage. He could help us reverse this."
"Give me a chance," Jowan pleaded, his hands curled around the bars of the cell. "Please." Cailan glared at him. The mage took an unconscious step back. "I can help your uncle. I can try to reverse the poison."
Cailan took a deep breath. He nodded to Isobel.
"I'm letting you out of your cell." She slipped the key into the lock, the look on her face doubling the warning. "Don't try anything."
"You're letting me out?" Jowan asked, his voice full with disbelief. "And what then?"
"You come with me. That's what."
Jowan shook his head, moving away from the cell's door. "I'm… not sure that's a good idea."
Isobel opened the cell. She was tired of waiting. She was tired of wasting time with this ridiculous mage who'd only caused trouble for the people who employed him. She wanted to finish this conversation. "Beggars can't be choosers," she growled, offering him the open door. "Come or stay there."
"Then I will wait." Jowan waved his hand toward the open door, "If you change your mind, I will be here."
"I don't care what you do, mage," was her frustrated reply. "You're on your own."
At that, Jowan's expression changed. Fear faded into conviction. "No, I'm not leaving." He advanced, leaving his cell and watching Isobel shut the door behind him. "I made a mistake, and I'm going to find some way to fix it."
That was the last the group saw of Jowan for the time being. He disappeared into the castle, and he was out of their minds. Or, at least, all of their minds save for one. After slaying two more groups of corpses, there was a long stretch of silence. Isobel moved beside Cailan. He knew this castle like the back of his hand, something that came in handy when faced with the winding halls, multiple floors, and locked doors.
No one spoke while they made their way through the halls. Silence was almost worse than the sound of approaching clumsy footsteps. Try as she might, Isobel found it difficult to focus entirely on where they were going. Instead, doubt clawed at the back of her mind. Cailan surely hated her for letting the mage go free. She showed compassion to a man who didn't deserve it. She might've orchestrated their undoing with her own two hands and soft heart.
Battle was slowly becoming second nature to the Grey Warden. Around every corner came a new foe, seemingly stronger than the last. Corpses made way into demons from the Fade. They screeched and screamed like nothing she'd ever heard before. And their claws felt as if they were made from fire.
The deeper they ran into the castle, the more difficult everything became. They were slowing down. Still, Cailan's insistence to keep strong kept spirits high. They were close. A maid called Valena, the daughter of Redcliffe's blacksmith, offered them helpful information. Isolde and Connor were in the main hall. "That's not far off," Cailan told Isobel. She could tell he was relieved.
Godfrey stepped forward to the door leading into the main hall. He tried the handle. "It's locked."
"Looks like we'll have to go in through the front doors after all," Cailan offered, a hint of a smile on his face. Isobel found herself rolling her eyes again, but she, too, was smiling. Just a little. He caught sight of it, and his own widened.
Forcing himself to sober his expression, Cailan cleared his throat. "I have a feeling this won't be easy," he admitted. "Not that any of this has been. Whatever darkness there is in this castle is strong. I want you all to be careful." While his warning was for all of them, his last sentence was focused almost entirely on Isobel.
She nodded. "I don't know what's out there, but it'll be there no matter how long we stand around here, waiting." With that, they made their way out of the castle and into the courtyard.
There, another skirmish waited for them. It was expected. More fighting, more bloodshed, more demons slipped from out of the Fade by whatever drove the darkness within Castle Redcliffe. It was impossible to escape. No battle ever ended with someone walking right through the front door to victory.
Godfrey ran to open the gate and let Ser Perth's soldiers into the courtyard. Arryn stayed far away from the battle, casting spell after spell, just as Alistair threw himself into the fray without so much as a second thought.
Cailan was just about to engage a corpse when Isobel turned and saw it. It was taller than everything they'd faced so far, head and shoulders above the stately king. The sword it carried was massive, and the shield could've deflected a blow from anything the group fought with. Isobel's mouth fell open as she shouted for Cailan to turn. She ran forward, plunging her sword through the middle of the corpse before drawing her blade and thrusting it in again.
The King staggered backwards at the sight of the demon, his eyes wide and his mouth moving without making a sound. He was easily pushed out of the way by Isobel, who stood before the enormous being. Feet firm and shoulders square, she faced him, her sword and dagger raised. Bluffing; she was bluffing. Inside, she was cowering away from this monster. She wanted nothing more than to turn away and run or to fall to her knees and just accept her end. She scarcely heard Cailan call for Alistair and Godfrey to help her.
The beast brought his sword down of Isobel, and she tried her best to parry the blow, falling to her knee to compensate for the weight of the blade and his strength. Giving a frustrated cry, Isobel thrust her blades upwards, knocking the demon's sword just far enough away from her to stand up and take a swing. It howled when her sword dug into the purple flesh of its thigh, fighting back with a swift kick.
Isobel was tossed aside like a rag doll, hitting the stone pavement in a clatter of armor and gasping. She scrambled up from the ground to see the two soldiers advance on the beast. Cailan thought better of it and had run to help Ser Perth's men in getting rid of the remaining corpses. Alistair and Godfrey were strong, skilled fighters, but they stood no chance on their own. Instead of waiting for her own bumps and bruises to begin to sing, Isobel gripped her sword and raced forward. The beast seemed disoriented at having to fight off three soldiers, but he kept on, swinging and thrashing.
Alistair bore the blunt of a hard hit on his head, and he crumpled to the ground. The longer their fight wore on, the more hopeless it seemed to be. This thing had to have some weakness. Isobel watched as she fought, looking for some space in his armor, some soft spot to hit. As it lifted its arm to thrust its sword at Godfrey, a long line of purple flesh was bared to her. Without a second thought, Isobel lifted her sword above her head with both hands and drove into its side.
It fell to its knees and then to the ground, writhing for a moment before coming to a dead stop.
With Arryn's healing, the five of them gathered at the fallen demon. Alistair rubbed the back of his head as he looked down at it. "That can't be the worst of them," he sighed, "It can't be."
"Always the optimist, I see," Isobel harrumphed. "Morale's fine without you raining doubt all over us."
"This has to be the worst of it for now," Cailan assured her. For once she was glad to feel his heavy hand on her shoulder. She was angry with him for running away, but she understood faintly why he did it. The last thing he'd seen that large had nearly killed him.
Isobel sighed. "We should go. I don't think we have much time."
A/N: I want to thank you all for such nice reviews! They all really mean a lot to me. It makes me happy to know that there are a ton of Cailan lovers out there, and that they think I'm doing the man justice. :) Expect chapter six very soon!