After a week of travel, the army reached Ostagar. The last three days had left the entire army, even King Cailan, soaked to the bone as constant rain plagued them. Anthatal had his Wardens set up camp where Duncan had asked them to, and the twenty Wardens collapsed wearily onto their pallets as soon as the tents were up. Anthatal, however, had too much on his mind to rest, and roamed the camp in the slight drizzle, still bearing his white steel armor.
He noted the positions of the mages' camp, the Chantry's camp and the tents of the King and of Loghain within the general perimeter of the entire campsite. The tall man then checked on the guards at the southern end of the camp to make sure all was well, and headed to the bridge spanning the wide canyon they would attempt to lure the bulk of the darkspawn horde into. He crossed the massive stone structure and entered the Tower of Ishal, the last standing tower of the old fortress. After a while he returned to the Wardens' camp to find Alistair waiting for him.
"Can't sleep?" inquired the young man.
Anthatal shook his head and sat next to the ex-templar on the bench. Neither spoke for a long while, both exhausted from the march but unable to rest. Alistair then turned to his friend. "Why don't you take off your armor? You'd be more comfortable that way."
The older Warden shook his head. "No, Alistair, I've been a Warden long enough to know that that would be a bad idea. Darkspawn could come at any moment, and we need to be ready." He smiled wanly, "Besides, I've worn it enough that I barely notice it anymore. It's like wearing a tunic."
Alistair accepted this answer, and silence once again took over. They sat there, unmoving, until the sun touched the eastern horizon and the rain stopped with dawn's first light. Anthatal stood and stretched, then addressed Alistair without looking at him. "I think I ought to patrol the perimeter to check for any hostile activity. Care to join me?"
He waited for a second, and when no answer came he looked at the young man. Alistair had fallen asleep, his head resting on his hand propped up on his knee. Anthatal smiled briefly and walked off quietly, not wishing to disturb his friend's rest.
Before he could escape to the Wilds, however, he was hailed from the King's tent by a now-familiar voice. He turned and grudgingly walked towards Cailan. The young king had decided that Anthatal was now his personal Grey Warden encyclopedia, and always had questions to ask about his order. The tall Warden sighed; it was going to be a long morning.