Notes: If you are enjoying this story, please drop a fav or review. It means a lot to writers!
As promised, the repercussions of the attempt on Caitlyn.
Song: Muse – "Guiding Light"
Chapter 74: No Guiding Light Left Inside
Grace was difficult to track down. The catacombs of the Harimann estate were very large, and the search that Aveline and her group had conducted was cursory at best. Caitlyn thought it distinctly possible that Lady Harimann had never sacked Grace at all and that the Starkhaven mage was simply hiding in the catacombs somewhere.
While Aveline's team continued their search, and Alain's team searched for all the known mage supremacists, Caitlyn discussed the events with Anders.
"I knew all along that something like this was a danger," she told him frankly. "I'm a head of state and a revolutionary. I'm probably one of the most hated figures in Thedas right now—"
Anders smiled gently. "But also one of the most loved."
Her heart warmed at his words, and she smiled back at him. This was so much better than the ugly fight of that morning, let alone the month of marital coolness and lack of communication. Perhaps things were starting to turn around for them at last.
"That may be," she said in softer tones, "but the ones who love me aren't going to pose this kind of threat." She sighed, the tender moment vanishing in the darkness of the reality she faced. "Justinia's would-be assassin was thought to have been a 'useful idiot' of the schism and the Templars," she said. "For him to have escaped the White Spire and infiltrated an Orlesian ball where the Divine herself was present, he must have had help. I agree with Cassandra about that. So they knew there was a risk of something like that as long as the schism had supporters and agents among the Templars and Seekers, but knowing that the risk existed didn't help them prevent the attack." She trembled. "I wonder now if this attempt on me was another such plot."
"You wonder if the schism manipulated and used Lady Harimann?"
Caitlyn nodded, stilling herself. "And the supremacists. Not with their knowledge, since they are sincere in their beliefs, but as useful idiots like that Jeannot. The attempt on Justinia failed. The attempt to tar me with suspicions of conspiracy in that also failed, more or less. Some people believe it, but it's hard to make that case with Petrice clearly in my corner. You know it's true, Anders," she said as he grimaced. "Maybe they decided it would be easier if they had avowed mage supremacists as the face of the mage rights side."
"It's far from impossible," he agreed. "The Harimanns did have ties to the Vael family. Maybe Sebastian decided to exploit that."
Caitlyn considered that before shaking her head. "I doubt it, honestly. If anyone did, it was Elthina. You know," she said thoughtfully, "sometimes I wonder if Sebastian is a useful idiot too. When he lived in Kirkwall and interacted with us occasionally, he seemed less of a zealot against mages than many of the others. But he has a massive blind spot about Elthina. He wouldn't believe in her guilt in the Qunari business because he didn't want to believe it. He'll probably adopt uncritically whatever she thinks."
"Could Elthina have agents who would have the ear of the Free Mages, though?" Anders argued. "Any of them, let alone supremacists? If the schism was using Jeannot, it was through the Templars in Val Royeaux. And he was a Circle mage. Their complicity was in letting him escape and enter the ball. Simple enough. How could Elthina have influenced our people? A prince seems likelier to have agents that they might listen to."
"Maybe, but I can't see Sebastian as being capable of that sort of plotting."
Anders shrugged. "Maybe we're both wrong, then, and the supremacists came up with this plot all on their own."
Caitlyn sighed, frowning. "I don't know if that's better or worse. It seems that it would be easier to root out if it is only a Kirkwall problem, but on the other hand, I'd rather see all of my enemies as conspiring together. If I actually do have this many independent foes, the schism, the Coterie, the mage supremacists... well, that's concerning."
Anders gave her a sympathetic glance. "I understand that. I wanted all of my foes to be unified during my Circle days and just afterward. It also made it easier if that were true. But sometimes it isn't, and we have to adapt to that."
She rose to her feet. The conversation suddenly irked her. Was he implying it was her fault for doing something wrong if she had many independent enemies? "Well, whatever their associations are—or not—they will all meet the just fate of enemies of this revolution."
Anders gave her a surprised and unnerved look at these dark words, but she was already stalking away.
To Caitlyn's surprise—she had not expected this outcome—Alain returned to the Keep first.
"I've had over forty Potentatists and Restorationists arrested," he said. "I don't believe that's all of them. Despite their going public with their existence, they didn't keep a membership list like a proper fraternity would."
"Forty is better than zero," Caitlyn said. "I'll have them questioned. If they conspired with the assassins..." She trailed off. Executing forty mages would be hard. It was over six percent of the mage population of the army. A pitched battle could easily deprive the army of far more, but there would be no military triumph obtained in this loss.
Yet at least some of these people were guilty of high treason. There had to be some involved other than those who had attacked the Keep. And if she didn't show strength, they might try again.
But it is so hard and slow to replace a mage, she thought wretchedly. They can't just be drafted from the general population. They have to be born, and then they have to age into combat.
She hadn't spoken, but Alain seemed to understand her conflict. "Perhaps imprison them indefinitely," he suggested, "until they show remorse. This lot was not at the Keep. They didn't take up arms against Your Grace."
"But they could have conspired with those who did. That is still treason." She sighed. "I want to show these people that there are consequences for betraying their leader. But battlemages are nearly irreplaceable, and we can't afford to clobber our own army." What would Anders do? she thought, and the answer came to her. He would not take their lives. Justice might, but Anders would be more practical.
She took the plunge. "If they didn't come to the Keep, then yes, I'll imprison them—unless they show sincere remorse." Her gaze hardened. "With one exception. I want to make an example of Grace. She had to have plotted with Johane Harimann, and she was complicit in the imprisonment of an innocent girl in that house. Did you find her?"
"Not yet, Your Grace, but I imagine some of the prisoners will give her up."
"See that they do." She paused. "What about the prisoners' documents? Did you collect them?" When he nodded, she continued. "I want them examined thoroughly to see if any of them had links to outside agents. Schism-sympathetic Templars aided Divine Justinia's attacker. I need to know if something similar was going on here."
Anders was pleased with her decision when she told him and her mother very late that night. He beamed and gave her a supportive hug. "You did the right thing," he assured her, eyes glittering. "Justice for their complicity with treason, but practicality for the sake of the cause—and a measure of mercy, since they were not personally the ones who attacked you. A chance to atone."
"Grace is a dead woman, though," she replied. "She lived in the same house as the supremacists' leader and head assassin. She has a long history of unhelpful violent behavior that undermines what I have tried to do. There is no conceivable way she wasn't deeply implicated. And she would have had a part in imprisoning Alison Dupres-Trevelyan in that room, too."
"I understand," Anders said stoically.
Leandra spoke up, not wanting to dwell on her daughter's plans to execute someone. "Regarding the young lady," she said, "where is she at the moment?"
"She's temporarily at the Gallows," Anders said.
"I had a thought. I understand that if you two took her in, your allies would think it meant that you were betrothing her to Mal, though you obviously have no such intentions."
Caitlyn had not thought of that, but of course, her noble-born mother was correct. "You're right. Two generations of Amells and Hawkes have chosen for themselves," she said, taking Anders' hand pointedly, "and I will not be the one to revert to the bad old way. Let alone that it smacks of 'mage breeding,'" she added in distaste. "That's the last thing I need now."
Leandra nodded. "So instead, I could take Alison in. I love Charade, but I miss having children about."
They gaped at her. "You want to raise another child in your..." Caitlyn began, cutting herself off quickly.
"My old age?" Leandra finished wryly. "I'm not one foot in the grave yet, Caitlyn. Fifty-two hardly makes me an old woman."
"Are you comfortable raising a mage child without"—Anders' voice softened in memory—"Malcolm?"
Caitlyn spoke up. Her mother's idea was fine by her, and she knew for a fact that Leandra could raise a mage girl well. "I could hire a respectable tutor or send her to day school at Evelina's school. That can be managed. If you mean this, and you really want to do it, I'll take you at your word."
After she had left, Anders hovered in the doorway of the bedroom. "Do you want me to stay tonight?" he asked quietly, not a trace of spite in his tone, just unease. He still remembered their fight and her harsh remarks that morning. It felt so long ago to Caitlyn now.
She turned to him tenderly and sleepily. "Of course, if you want to, dear," she said. She felt ashamed of herself for having told him off in the first place.
He smiled, crossing the room and supporting her as she got to her feet. "I'll just hold you tonight... sleepyhead," he added teasingly.
"I think I have a right to be a sleepyhead after a day from the Void like today. Or yesterday, by now."
"You certainly do." He brought her to their bed and pulled her down gently, tucking her and himself under the covers. "Sleep, love," he murmured, rubbing her back and shoulders to relax her muscles. "Most days won't be like this."
Caitlyn awakened the next morning not feeling very rested. The tension and anxiety that had plagued her all yesterday had not dissipated with her sojourn to the Fade. She managed not to take her irritation and nervousness out on Anders, and she was glad that she had not slept alone after all, but the fact remained that another dark day might lie ahead.
In addition, the Keep no longer felt like a sanctum to her. It had been breached. Some of the Guard and Free Mages had betrayed her. An assassin had penetrated the Keep. It would take a very long time for that feeling to dissipate. The first thing she wanted to do was to check on the children, even though she knew that they had to be all right—and, of course, they were.
She considered. "Mal, I don't want you going to the clinic with your father today," she told him.
He burst out in dismay. "But Mother!"
"You know what happened yesterday. I need to be sure the outer Keep is safe and secure before I let you go there again."
Anders came to the rescue. "I'll stay here too," he said. "You and your sister won't be left to yourselves. We can practice spells."
The boy sighed in resignation. "All right," he mumbled.
By mid-morning, Caitlyn had received new updates from Alain and Aveline about the interrogation of their many detainees.
"The courtiers and bystanders yesterday appear to be entirely innocent," Aveline said, "and I've released them all. The kitchen staff at the Hanged Man admitted that a bottle of a spice they used was 'different from usual,' as they put it. It's gone now, but it must have been poison."
"As we all suspected."
Aveline nodded. "But it appears that the Hanged Man workers did not know what they were putting into the guards' food. I don't know if we can track down the source, Hawke. It could have been an agent of Lady Harimann who replaced the real spice just before the poisoning occurred and then took it back after. In fact, it probably was. No other patrons appear to have sickened."
Caitlyn's gaze hardened. "If we find that person, I want them dead."
"I agree with Your Grace in this." She paused. "The guards who were poisoned are on the mend. They should be ready to return in a few days."
"Don't make any assumptions about their loyalty, even though they were poisoned," Caitlyn warned. "Question them first."
Aveline bristled. "I have had no hint of disloyalty from them—"
"I assume you had no hint of disloyalty from the substitutes either before yesterday!" Caitlyn burst out angrily. "I said question them, not torture them!"
"It will be as Your Grace orders," she said tautly.
There was an awkward pause before Caitlyn spoke again. "What about the search of the Harimann estate? I'm particularly interested in documents indicating a link between this attack, this movement, and any outside groups like the schism. There was for Divine Justinia's attacker."
"The assassin in Val Royeaux wasn't directly linked with the rebel Templars, though," Aveline said pedantically. "But," she added hastily as she saw the annoyance and impatience in her friend's eyes, "we searched the house from top to bottom, catacombs included, and we found nothing indicating any outside connection with the Harimann family. Schism or otherwise."
Caitlyn turned to Alain. "What about the supremacists' documents?"
"My people weren't able to find anything from outside the city either," he said. "The schism or others. It really does look like a Kirkwall plot."
"Damn it! There were non-mage guards who betrayed me! What was in it for them?" She turned back to Aveline. "I can believe it about the mages. I can believe they weren't conspiring with the schism. That was Anders' argument, that they wouldn't listen to Elthina's agents. But why would non-magical guards want a mage supremacist ruling?"
"Unfortunately, I couldn't find correspondence with the City Guard either. Lady Harimann either kept her conspiracy verbal or destroyed evidence."
"I want this investigated thoroughly, Aveline. I want to know why they betrayed me. Did she offer them coin? Were they corrupted by Tevinter slaver gangs? Or... were they working with schism agents? We need to find out."
"I agree that it has to be uncovered, and you have my word that I will find out everything I can, Hawke." Aveline sounded sincere and emphatic.
Alain spoke up. "A trio of prisoners indicated that they might know Grace's whereabouts. I've sent a group of powerful mages to look into their tip."
"If it leads to her, that's cause for clemency," Aveline said.
"I know." Caitlyn turned back to Alain. "Where did they say she was?"
"A structure deep under Darktown, supposedly. If it exists."
Caitlyn combed through her memories. "If it's what I think it is, it does exist," she said reluctantly. With the memory retrieved, she quickly made connections to events from 9:31 to 9:33 Dragon, before she had ever become Viscountess. A powerful demon in an underground lair accessible from Darktown... a malevolent mage who had demon-summoning tomes... a blood mage prostitute in the Blooming Rose...
The Coterie? she thought. Could there be a connection? She checked her paranoia. No, very likely not. That prostitute probably never set foot in that evil lair. And that other blood mage, whatever her name was—Tar-something—wasn't Coterie. Anyway, it was all far too long ago for an association to be likely today.
She forced herself to recall Anders' words. Not all of my enemies are connected to each other, she told herself firmly. Sometimes a pattern is a figment of my imagination.
She addressed her captains. "Keep me informed of all developments."
"Of course, Your Grace."
She did not have to wait long. A group of mages, including Merrill—who bore a look of utmost contempt and anger at her prisoner—hauled a magically nullified, spell-canceled Grace into the Keep by early afternoon.
Caitlyn hated pulling Anders away from the family, but he would... well, perhaps not want to be present for this, but need to.
He understood. "I'll support you, love," he said, reluctantly breaking away from Mal and Jo.
"I want to—" the boy began.
"No," Caitlyn said immediately. "You're not seeing this. And this prisoner is extremely dangerous, Mal. If you are there, she'll target you if she has the chance."
"If she has that chance, then she'd target you and Father instead."
"But we are older and—sorry, son—more powerful mages due to years of practice," Anders said. "Your mother is right. We'll be back soon."
He pouted but did not try to follow his parents as they left the room.
Caitlyn and Anders stalked through the doors that separated the inner from the outer Keep, being sure to carry their strongest staves with them. Caitlyn was not going to leave the inner Keep now without one. She had done that to meet with Lady Harimann and had been attacked.
Merrill, Alain, Petra, Sketch—the usual group of leaders and a selection of their trusted friends kept the defiant Grace under magic suppression as the Viscountess and Consort approached her. Although she was a dangerous prisoner and this was an arrest, courtiers had filled the grand foyer once again to discuss the shocking events of the day before—and to watch this ugly scene unfold, Caitlyn thought grimly. She noted how their eyes were fixed on the captive. I could have this moved to the dungeon... but, now that I think of it, there is value in this. Let these courtiers carry word far and wide of what I'm facing and what I will do to deal with it.
Caitlyn and Anders stopped before Grace. Caitlyn glared at her with anger and contempt. "So," she began in frigid, haughty tones, "you were found in a secret catacomb where sacrificial rituals once took place, in Tevinter times. Not exactly the actions of an innocent woman."
Although her captors kept Grace's mana suppressed, preventing her from doing magic, she could certainly speak. A malevolent smirk overspread her face. "When did I say I was innocent, Hawke?"
Petra zapped her with a force spell. "Show respect, traitor!"
Caitlyn interposed. "Oh, there's no point in that," she said to Petra. "We all know how little respect she has for me—and by extension for the cause itself."
"You are not the cause," Grace sneered.
"And you are an idiot!" Caitlyn exploded. "Who in the Void do you think would support mage rights if you Potentatists and Restorationists, supremacists, were in charge? When has anyone ever gained rights by declaring that they want to take those same rights away from others? Or, for that matter, some of themselves! Mages who love non-mages would be second-class in the world you wanted to create! Yes, these ideas undermined the cause. In wartime, that's sedition in itself.
"But your actions went beyond that, didn't they?" she continued, making sure the nobles nearby could hear her. "You were hiding in that lair to escape justice for your part in yesterday's assassination attempt. Do you deny it?"
Grace struggled, in her captors' grip, to meet Caitlyn's eye. "No, I don't deny it!" she spat. "You have been weak and Lady Harimann would have been strong! I saw years ago that you were too cautious!"
"I was too cautious," Caitlyn repeated, nearly laughing with derision. "Tell that to the schism! They split from the Chantry because I am so incautious! But do go on. These are your last few minutes alive. I want you to speak."
"I wanted you to kill that bitch Meredith years before you did," Grace said, forking the evil eye at her and Anders. "What did it finally take? Your own son being kidnapped."
"That's not true," Anders interjected. "That same day, Justinia had ordered Meredith to resign, and she refused. We knew what it meant. We knew that the Chantry was about to split. We were already going to take her out and free the Circle. When she kidnapped Mal, she just made it personal."
"You took too long!" Grace insisted. "You were always too cautious! But I accepted you as my best option, since you're a liberationist mage. Until I learned that Lady Harimann was too, and a supporter of Restorationist ideas."
"Restorationist ideas," Caitlyn repeated mockingly. "Meaning the 'idea' that Kirkwall should become Emerius again. Your 'ideas' are nothing new. They've been circulating in Kirkwall for years—among Tevinter slaver gangs!" Caitlyn's temper boiled over. She could not stop herself from casting a hard punch of force at her prisoner. Grace doubled over in pain, groaning. Caitlyn was yelling now. "Is that how you got non-magical City Guards to join your cause? You found the ones who were compromised by bribes from slavers?"
"Oh, I didn't do anything—except a quick little visit to the Hanged Man," she ground out through her pain.
"You were the poisoner?"
"Those idiot mundanes in the kitchen never saw me. A quick glamour charm for distraction." Grace lifted her head and smirked. "But no, Hawke, I didn't do anything to entice the guards. That was all my lady."
"What did she do?" Caitlyn snarled furiously.
"You've pissed off a lot of mages, Hawke," Grace sneered. "And they are mages. You call them slaver gangs..."
"That is what they are. And I'm not fighting for the rights of Tevinter magisters to enslave the rest of us! I'm fighting for the rights of mages who were denied love, family, liberty, property, even sometimes the right of their own independent thought and emotion, in Circles!" She spoke loudly so that the nobles would hear and understand. "Is that what happened? Slaver gangs were angry that I went after them, and Johane Harimann took advantage?"
"They are mages!" Grace insisted. "They are here, rather than at home in Tevinter, because they are low-status there! They're sent to do the magisters' bidding. Some are even slaves themselves! They are oppressed too."
"So their answer is to enslave others rather than rebel as the Free Mages of Thedas did," Anders cut in. "I have no sympathy for them."
"Nor do I. Oppression isn't a free pass to do whatever they want." Caitlyn regarded Grace with fire and ice in her gaze. "Did Johane Harimann ally with them and learn from them which guards they had corrupted?"
"If you want to put it that way," Grace spat.
"So," Caitlyn deduced, her mind connecting the dots rapidly, "she wanted to rule the Free Marches as a subject-ruler in the Tevinter Magisterium." She spoke up, using a force spell to amplify her voice. "There was a seditious play not too long ago that mocked me as the 'magister of Kirkwall.' Perhaps we should restart performances, but with an accurate target this time! And have free mages in the group that overthrew her!"
The assembled nobles laughed nervously.
Caitlyn turned back to Grace smugly. "One last thing. The Harimann relatives. The husband and children. They were in on it, weren't they?"
"That buffoon she married is no mage," Grace retorted, "and the children aren't either. My lady wasn't happy about that. But they do have mage blood. Wed to mages, they would likely have children with the gift."
"So they were complicit?"
Grace paused, appearing conflicted. Loyalty to the Harimanns, wanting the line to survive, warring against contempt for non-mages? Caitlyn wondered.
"No," Grace finally said. "They weren't."
Caitlyn's patience snapped. "I don't believe you. You're trying to protect them because you don't want her line to die out."
"If you think I'm lying about that, why do you believe anything else I said?" Grace needled obnoxiously. "Because it was what you wanted to hear?"
Grace's words drove into Caitlyn's heart like nails. How do I know she was telling the truth about anything? a wicked voice of doubt nagged. How do I know what was the truth and what was a lie, if I think this last claim was a lie? Beside her, Anders gave her a concerned look, taking her hand in support.
Although she knew that the time remaining in her life was rapidly dwindling, Grace looked smug at having clearly gotten to Caitlyn. "You'll wonder, now, won't you?" she said quietly, grinning in malice. "I win. Even in death, I win. And even when you kill me, my ideas win, because I will die by the hand of a mage ruler. Even if you're not the one I would have chosen."
Caitlyn's temper suddenly erupted. I won't give her the satisfaction of dying by a spell, she thought. Snarling to herself, she turned to Petra. "Hold her down. I'm going to get something." Without another word, she broke her handhold with Anders and stormed in a specific direction: the guard quarters.
Aveline was there, going over confiscated documents and discussing the interrogation of the other prisoners, when Caitlyn stormed in. She rose to her feet in surprise. "Hawke!"
Caitlyn glared at her. "Grace has been captured. She just informed me that she personally was the poisoner, and furthermore, that the guards in your substitute list had been compromised by slaver gangs."
Aveline blanched. "They were obviously compromised by something. There are a handful of survivors from yesterday. I will have them questioned thoroughly before their executions, to verify what Grace said." She paused as Caitlyn went over to a weapons rack. "What do you need, Hawke?"
Caitlyn selected a greatsword. "Is this anyone's personal weapon?"
"No," Aveline said. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to cut off the head of a traitor, that's what."
Aveline drew back, shocked. "Are you sure you can handle that—"
Caitlyn turned around menacingly, silencing her friend. "Quite."
She left Aveline gawking as she stalked back into the grand foyer. Anders and the others, minus Merrill, had guessed her intentions as soon as she stormed toward the guard hall. Merrill figured it out when she returned with the sword.
Grace also realized it. She spat on the ground as Caitlyn approached. "You are still a mage, Hawke," she sneered. "Even if you swing a blade around like a barbarian, you're still a mage. Does that bother you?" she mocked.
"I am proud of being a mage," Caitlyn said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "It is nothing to be ashamed of, no sin, no curse, and that is a central principle of this fight for freedom. The Maker bestows various talents on all of us. He bestowed magic on me. I'm as proud of that as a brilliant musician or a scholar is of their talent." She smiled darkly. "This is just a way to deny you what you want, Grace. It's not about me. It's about you. Any last words?"
Grace spat a glob of phlegm onto the floor as she glared at Caitlyn with hate. "There is movement in the shadows and it will continue! We are the past—and the future! You cannot hold back the inevitable!"
That's enough, Caitlyn thought with a quick look of alarm directed toward the gathered nobles. I shouldn't have let her speak anymore. That raving will only frighten those nobles. Movement in the shadows there may be, but not for long. I'm going to root them out.
She raised the greatsword—Carver's preferred weapon is heavier than I knew, she thought idly, the thought, bizarre in its present timing, passing through her mind. Grace's captors eased away slightly and closed their eyes.
Caitlyn brought the blade down in a lethal arc. A horrible sound ensued as it sliced through flesh and bone, a noise akin to a gourd being chopped.
The head fell away with a crunch and a thud. A river of blood erupted from the neck, spattering all over the floor. Anders stepped away to avoid getting the red flood of death on his boots.
Caitlyn felt sickened. The flare of defiant anger was one thing. The act was quite another. This is much worse than death by magic, at least for some spells, she thought. Lightning spells, anyway. This is... dehumanizing. How could anyone have ever thought we were the monsters, when swordsmen hack people to pieces? But she suppressed her disgust as she lifted the severed head by the hair and held it up.
"Look upon the head of a traitor!" she called out to everyone in the outer Keep. "A traitor against this beautiful city and its sovereign! A traitor who sought to depose and murder the freely chosen Viscountess of Kirkwall, to be replaced with a tyrant allied with Tevinter slavers! A traitor against the cause of liberty for your defenders, your friends, in some cases even your sons and daughters!" She stared at Comte de Launcet, who had a mage son. "And also a personal traitor! She betrayed my husband, my friends, and me! We helped her and her fellows remain alive when they escaped a terrible fire in Starkhaven's Circle, and a murderous Templar, a crony of the dishonored Meredith Stannard, wanted to slay them! Do not fear her words," Caitlyn continued. "Her fellow conspirators have been found—by the very mages she sought to betray, as you can see. Their despicable ideas will be pulled up by the root. They may be the past, but they are not the future."
When that shocking and unpleasant scene was finally concluded, the mages who had brought Grace to the Keep dispersed, except for Merrill. She approached Caitlyn and Anders hesitantly.
"Her position on the Mages' Council has been empty ever since she was revealed as... one of those people," Merrill said in her fey voice. "They offered me the chance to replace her."
"Do you want to?" Caitlyn asked her sincerely. "It's entirely your choice."
Merrill dithered. "Well... it is a little like being a Keeper, is it not?"
"Very much like," Caitlyn agreed. "The Mages' Council is the Free Mages' self-governing body. They choose its members themselves."
"I never fit in well with the Alienage," Merrill said. "I tried to lead them, but they did not truly accept me. It is very odd for shemlen and Elvhen like Sketch to accept me. But they do. As... you did years ago."
"If you want to accept their offer, do so," Caitlyn urged her. "If you've come to me for advice on that point, I think it would be a very good thing."
"There is no Dalish elf on the Mages' Council," Merrill said, "and few in the army who have any knowledge of our traditions and customs. Or even our techniques of magic." Her eyes gleamed. "I would like to."
"Excellent," Caitlyn approved. This was one good thing amid a very grim two days. She gave Anders a look and realized that he felt the same.
But unfortunately, another grim task awaited Caitlyn immediately. Grace's words about the Harimanns were gnawing at her like termites. Had she said they were innocent because they actually were, or was it to protect the offspring of her patroness? Their mother was keeping an innocent girl, a foster child, locked up in the house, as a mage supremacist who had sympathies for slavers instructed her. How could they not have known? How could they not have been complicit? She recalled Aveline's report about the total lack of evidence in the Harimann estate implicating the assassins with outside groups. They must have destroyed it before the attack. Aveline found no evidence of Lady Harimann's conspiracy with the traitorous guards either, and since it involved knowing which ones slavers had bribed, that required records. We know she destroyed those... assuming Grace was telling the truth about that, she reflected bitterly. Damn her for seeding doubt! May she walk the Void now.
She called for Aveline to have them brought to her. The widower was named Ruxton Harimann, the children Brett and Flora, she learned. But as she waited for them to be brought out, another pair of guests entered the Keep and approached her as she waited on the high seat, the throne of Kirkwall.
"Her Grace the Grand Cleric has heard about everything," Varnell reported. Beside him was Orwald, the former guard. "She approves wholeheartedly of what Your Grace has done to handle it. She's also heard about what that traitor said about Tevinters. A noble told her."
Caitlyn figured it out at once. "And she believes that calls for Suprema involvement?"
Varnell nodded. "If they dealt with slavers, that could mean the so-called Imperial Chantry. That's heresy. Or if they have ties to the Vaels, it could mean the Marcher schism. Also heresy."
"I do want to be left to question the Harimanns myself," she cautioned. "Divine Justinia's attacker was manipulated by schism-sympathetic Templars, but he himself wasn't a heretic, just an assassin. It is possible that this is a similar case."
"Aye, Your Grace. The Grand Cleric means to stand down and let you interrogate them. She sent us to listen in, and if we hear anything actionable, then and only then we'd intervene and take the case to the Chantry Suprema."
Caitlyn saw no problem with that. "Very well."
The Harimanns were brought forth from the dungeons escorted by Aveline, Varric, Merrill—and Anders. Caitlyn suppressed her dismay at that. She had no plans to torture them, but she wished her husband would not see this.
She spread her arms over the armrests of the throne and regarded the prisoners with lofty disdain. "Ruxton, Brett, and Flora Harimann," she said, "I suppose you know why you have been brought here."
The daughter, Flora, was trembling. The path Aveline had chosen from the prison had taken them past the spot where Grace's blood still stained the floor.
Her father spoke up. "We will tell you anything you want to know, Your Grace," he said, his voice shaky. "I swear by the name of Andraste, I did not know what my wife was up to."
Caitlyn sneered at him. "No doubt your wife would have sworn, before her attack, that she was not up to anything. I am not interested in the oaths taken by a traitor's blood and kin."
Anders raised his eyebrows sharply at that term.
"I do not care that she was a mage," Caitlyn continued. "As you know, there is no apostasy in Kirkwall now. I assume you knew of her talent and I do not care if you kept that from me."
"We didn't, though!" the son, Brett, protested. "We had no idea! There has never been any magic in our family before!"
Caitlyn regarded him with contempt. "You actually expect me to believe that you had no idea your mother was a mage?"
"It's true," the girl, Flora, said in a whiny tone.
She scoffed. "This insults my intelligence, makes you look even more suspicious, and it was pointless of you to say it—because as I literally just said, I don't care that she was a mage. I want to know some other things."
"What does Your Grace wish to know?" Ruxton asked tentatively.
"One, I want to know why none of you went to the authorities about Lady Johane's imprisonment of Alison Dupres-Trevelyan behind a blood ward. False imprisonment of children is illegal, and you are obligated to report a crime."
"We didn't know!" Brett insisted. "We knew that Mother was fostering her, and we knew she had hired that mage Grace, but we didn't know she kept her locked up! Alison ate with us! She visited the family library sometimes! We didn't know!"
"Stop lying. The obvious point of the blood ward was to prevent Alison from escaping and telling someone else of her treatment—or the vile ideology that Grace and your mother were teaching her," Caitlyn snapped. "If she had free run of the house, she would have seized an opportunity to flee."
"Mother and Grace just said that she liked to stay in her own room," Flora whimpered.
Caitlyn snorted. "And you believed that. So you claim." Despite her disbelief in the Harimanns' assertions, Caitlyn did realize that there was likely no way to prove what they knew or didn't know of Alison's treatment. Even asking Alison herself would likely prove futile, given her confinement—and, Caitlyn guessed, her foster mother and tutor's close surveillance of her when she was allowed out. "Your mother and Grace essentially ran their own Circle for one mage child," she sneered, "in the worst sense of the word! Imprisonment, surveillance, and sundering from the outside world!"
That made an impression on Anders, Caitlyn noted. He shifted uneasily.
"But," she continued, "I cannot yet prove what you may have known, it is true. So let's move on. According to Grace's confession, which was freely given and not made under torture, your mother dealt with slavers and enlisted City Guards who had been compromised by them. Yet the Captain found no evidence of this in your estate. This means she—or you—destroyed the evidence. And it invites the question of what other evidence was destroyed."
"It's as I said, Your Grace," Ruxton protested, "I didn't know what she was doing! I took my wife's name. She was the head of the family after her father died. She controlled what went on. It's like Your Grace and your husband."
"You dare compare me to her?" Caitlyn erupted. She was deeply angered that he had attempted to appeal to her by making comparisons between himself and Anders, and therefore his dead wife and her.
"That wasn't my intent," he said, casting his gaze down. "I beg your pardon. I just didn't know what she was doing with those guards. Her plans to attack. And I don't know what other evidence Your Grace is hinting about."
"Evidence of any other allies! The schism! The Coterie! Tevinter!" Caitlyn slammed her palms on the armrests, sparks of magic involuntarily bursting forth. "I am surrounded by enemies, and for the sake of security, I need to know the extent of treasonous conspiracies like this! If I learn that your wife had outside allies and you did know something about it, it will be your blood staining the floor of the Keep next," she warned darkly.
All three Harimanns trembled.
Anders finally spoke up. His gaze was hard. "You didn't know that Lady Harimann was keeping a child locked up. That she was plotting an assassination and a coup. That she was dealing with slavers and corrupt City Guards. You didn't even know that she, your wife or mother for years and years, was a mage! You three seem awfully ignorant of events in your own house," he said derisively. "Unrealistically ignorant. Suspiciously ignorant."
Caitlyn gave him a grateful look for supporting her.
"It must have been the demon," Flora Harimann spoke up.
"Which I presume you 'didn't know about' either," Caitlyn snarled.
"We didn't! We would have gone to the Free Mages, or even Ser Thrask's Templars, to have it exorcised if we had known!" Her lower lip quivered. "I wish we had. It might have saved Mother."
Aveline, Varric, and Merrill had all seen the demon and the Harimanns while they were under its influence. Merrill spoke up hesitantly. "They were acting very odd yesterday, before we killed the demon," she said.
"My first husband was a Templar. It certainly looked like demonic mind control to me," Aveline said, supporting Merrill. "The desire demon could have been influencing them for a long time, preventing them from noticing things."
Varric spoke up reluctantly. "It did look weird yesterday, Ha—Your Grace."
Caitlyn was furious at this sudden turn of events. Whose side are you on? she thought. Are you my friends or not? She turned to Anders, hoping that he at least would stand by her, but to her dismay, he was also considering their words.
"They have a point," he said reluctantly as he gave his wife an apologetic glance. "A powerful demon can do that."
Caitlyn gaped at him, then turned back to the Harimanns. She attempted to control herself and keep this interrogation firmly in her hand. "Whatever my... friends... say, this is all speculative." She gazed loftily down at them, forcing herself to look unperturbed and in control. They had to be guilty. They just had to. To be utterly ignorant of so many things, they would have had to have been kept in a sleepwalking state, she thought. They were almost certainly lying about not knowing of Lady Harimann's magic. How could she have kept that secret for so long? The entirety of her children's lives and her marriage? It's inconceivable. And if they're lying about that, how can I believe anything else they claimed?
She tried to sound calm and authoritative. "I see no reason to believe your claims that you knew nothing. They defy plausibility." She glared at the prisoners. "Johane Harimann was a traitor through and through. She used to be an ally of the Vael family... until she wasn't. She was not loyal to them either. She betrayed me, her lawful sovereign, for whom she voted at the moot five years ago! She betrayed her fellow mages. I see nothing before me but accomplices and kin of a traitor. A rotten, treasonous, untrustworthy family!" She was snarling in rage.
"That demon was swaying Mother! Our family is not wicked!" Brett Harimann protested. "Your Grace, please listen! This is not who we are! It's not our heritage! We're good people! Mother was good too until, I guess, the demon came."
"Sure she was," Caitlyn sneered. "You are not making a case for yourself by defending her, just so you know."
The young man changed tactics. "We have honor and generosity in our history, Your Grace. Grandfather was the only noble in this city who wanted Viscount Dumar to aid Ferelden in the Blight. He convinced Dumar to give coin to your home country, and he was assassinated for it by other nobles."
Caitlyn considered this for a minute. It was a blatant attempt to sway her by emotional appeal, and that itself made her skeptical. The more she thought about it, though, the less it impressed her. "Is that supposed to please me?" she said icily. "Because it actually makes me think worse of your family."
"What, Your Grace? Why?" Flora burst out, confused and upset. Caitlyn noticed that Anders and their friends all looked askance at her too.
Caitlyn gathered her thoughts and gazed loftily at them. "Number one," she said, "unless the donation was made after Ferelden crowned Alistair and Anora, the coin went to a government that wasn't fighting the Blight at all. It might even have gone to the coffers of Rendon Howe, who attacked the family of Warden-Commander Cousland. I suppose you know of her friendship with my family. You expect me to feel gratitude that this donation likely helped persecute the Hero of Ferelden?"
"That's actually a damn good point," Varric muttered. Anders, Merrill, and Aveline shifted uneasily behind Caitlyn, pondering her words.
"He wasn't responsible for what Ferelden did with it," Brett said.
"Indeed he wasn't. How were we to know if the Fereldans were using Kirkwall's coin to attack the Wardens?" Ruxton added.
"Just that it was their stated position that the Wardens 'killed the king'! To give coin to the Fereldan Regency at that time, your grandfather and Dumar were either ignorant fools who had no idea what was going on in a neighboring country, or they did this for reasons that had nothing to do with caring about the suffering of others. And that brings me to number two," Caitlyn continued mercilessly, forking them the evil eye. "If they meant to 'help,' they should have used the coin to aid Blight refugees here. Fereldans were starving and dying here!" A flame escaped from her palm. "It feels righteous to aid the poor suffering barbarians—so long as you don't have to see them. Doesn't it?"
"Cait," Anders said quietly, placing a hand on her back to try to calm her.
But the Harimanns were roused to anger too. "You don't know what was in Grandfather's heart!" Flora burst out. "He was a good and generous man!"
"If so, then why didn't he help refugees here?" she asked again. "No answer? Number three, then," she continued repressively, "I'm the Viscountess of Kirkwall, not Ferelden. That you'd think to sway me with this story means you don't see me as a real Kirkwaller—or you think I have dual loyalties. I won't tolerate such an insult from relatives of a traitor and assassin. She accused me of it too, right before she attacked me," she added as they grimaced at the parallel. "Orwald, Varnell—take them to the cells."
Against their protests, the men gleefully bound their wrists behind their backs and marched them to the dungeons. Caitlyn curled her hands over the armrests of the throne, scowling angrily, as she decided on her course.
Aveline, Varric, Merrill, and Anders were conflicted, she could tell. For her part, she wondered if perhaps she had been a bit too harsh on the Harimanns' sire—but it was nearly indisputable that, whatever he had lobbied Viscount Dumar to do, it hadn't helped Ferelden fight the Blight, likely had the opposite effect, and it certainly hadn't helped the refugees. And that spoiled brat only said it to influence me. Two-faced manipulators, all of them.
"I suppose you wanted that done so that they would be secured while the investigation continues," Aveline said in clipped tones.
"Yes," Caitlyn said—though that wasn't the full truth. She was also just furious with the Harimanns, but Aveline didn't need to know that, now that she had supplied Caitlyn with a lawful excuse for her actions.
"On the flip side, you must release them if no documented evidence of complicity is ever found."
"To the Void with 'documented evidence,'" Caitlyn spat. "They attacked you in the estate when you arrived there!"
"I believe they were under the demon's influence."
Caitlyn glared. She did not want to release them at all. "I'm not letting them go," she said abruptly. As her friends gaped, she continued, her tone harsh and cold. "The entire accursed family used to be close to the Vaels. They lost a patriarch due to his supposed support of Ferelden and a matriarch due to the fact that she was a mage who wanted to rule. They have grievances against people like me. And we know that Johane Harimann destroyed some evidence: the documents of her conspiracy with the traitorous guards. What else was destroyed? They're staying right where they are for the good of Kirkwall."
Aveline gazed levelly at her. "Then I should ask exactly what they are being charged with. It's my job as chief law officer of Kirkwall, Your Grace. Even you cannot just lock people in cells on a whim, and if you charge them with treason, you will need proof of that—which you don't have."
Caitlyn mulled over possibilities, quickly settling on one. "Seditious conspiracy. In a state of war, that's broad enough to cover what I need it to."
"What you need it to?" Aveline was outraged. "Hawke, I must tell you, as a friend—"
"If you want to be a friend to me, then stop questioning everything I do and support me," Caitlyn burst out. She was sure that Aveline was going to have a lecture for her about principles, which were all very well—but not if those principles cost her her victory or her power.
Anders returned to the inner Keep without even speaking to her after that. The others went their separate ways. Caitlyn changed into her drakeskin armor—and her red silk cape. The cape was ornamental, but that served her current purposes. She sent for the leaders of the Mages' Council to come to the Keep. She had a new task for them to do.
"I want the quarters of every adult mage searched to determine if any of them knew of the assassination attempt... or had any links to outside enemies," she told them. "Someone has to know something."
Petra looked troubled. "Every adult mage?" she repeated.
"Every one you know about. That includes the Gallows apartments and those who live in their own homes in Kirkwall. I will leave no stone unturned."
Alain gaped at her. "You want the houses in Lowtown searched?"
"Yes. I will have the Kirkwall Militia dispatched if necessary. Though, frankly, anyone who tries to keep you out is inherently suspect," she said in hard tones. "If they have nothing to hide, they shouldn't object."
Sketch drew back. "With all due respect..."
She cut him off. She was sick of being thwarted and second-guessed by everyone. "If you respect me, carry this out!"
Not a single one of them liked this order, she could tell—but her rage was towering so high, and small flames were starting to form in her palms, that no one dared voice an objection. "As you say, Your Grace," Petra said in clipped tones. "But all the written evidence may have already been found."
"I just cannot believe that these people did this alone!" she burst out. "Justinia's assassin had help! The schism wanted him to get into that ball!"
"That was there, and this is here," Sketch offered hesitantly. "For my part, I do wonder if there was outside help, not from the schism, but from Tevinter extremists trying to exploit our revolution and poach mages for their own purposes. Or establish a foothold in Kirkwall with a puppet ruler, though that failed. The Restorationists, and the link to slavers and slaver-corrupted guards, are very suspect. But I don't know if we can ever learn the truth. I suspect that Lady Harimann had a lot more documents than Your Grace's friends found, but destroyed them before she attacked."
That's all the more reason to keep those lying twits imprisoned, she thought. I'll get the truth out of them eventually. To Sketch she said, "And that's the sort of thing I want your people to look for. We won't know unless we look."
Anders learned of her order by night. He was waiting for her after he had put the children to bed. Anger filled his face, and he seemed to be struggling to rein in Justice. That alone raised Caitlyn's hackles as she glared back at him.
He shut the door to their bedroom and regarded her with heavy disapproval. "I heard about your order to the Mages' Council today," he said. His eyes narrowed as they stared at each other across the room. "Forced searches of the home of every grown mage?"
She folded her arms over her chest defensively. "I have to get to the bottom of this attack. There is no telling who may know what."
"This is exactly what Meredith did!" he exploded. A crackle of blue light darted over his face before fading. He heaved a breath to try to control the spirit. "Not just similar, not a slippery slope—bloody identical! Paranoia and abuse of power! Seeing hidden evil in every mage! How could you, Cait?"
His words struck her like a dart. He was right, she knew. This was exactly what Meredith had done. She could not face it. She could not accept that, so she focused on the part of his outburst to which she could object.
"I don't see hidden evil in every mage," she retorted with a scoff. "I see a conspiracy that I know very little about, and a need for intelligence-gathering!"
"So did Meredith! She saw blood magic conspiracies everywhere!"
"And was she right, Anders? Was the Circle saturated with blood mages? No, it was not," she said. "There was an attempt to assassinate me!"
He gaped at her in disbelief. "So it would have been fine for her to do it too if she'd just been right? Caitlyn, listen to yourself!"
"She did these things to further oppress and tyrannize mages!"
"And you aren't tyrannizing them too? What matters is not what is done, but who does it?"
"I am leading the revolution!" she exploded. Her small flames shot from her palms, as they often did when she was enraged. "This is for the greater good! These half-wits will destroy everything if they aren't stopped! They almost did yesterday! I'm helping mages by doing this!"
"You actually believe that," he said in disbelief and dismay, staring at his wife as if he had never truly seen her before. "For the greater good! The greater bloody good! The same defense Templars have used!"
"What do you think I should do?" she yelled. "You and all the others keep objecting to my decisions, but what do you suggest instead? Nothing! Well, guess where doing nothing leads, Anders? It leads to assassination attempts!"
"What do I think you should do?" he repeated rhetorically. "I'll tell you, Caitlyn! Stick to the known supremacists! Search the homes of their contacts. You didn't order this search for cause. You know bloody well nearly everyone is innocent! There is no cause to search those mages' homes. You're sinking into an abyss of paranoia and it is turning you into a—"
"A what, Anders?" she interrupted him.
He closed his lips, staring back at her.
"A what?" she roared. "Say it. Say exactly what you think of your wife and the mother of your children!"
He remained silent, flashes of spirit light crackling in and out.
Her patience reached an end. "Say it or get out!"
He broke first, the anger and spirit light fleeing his form, replaced with misery. "I can't stand by and watch this," he pleaded. "I love you so much. I don't want you to turn to darkness. Not for a righteous, good, just cause. Not for the cause we have been fighting for together for over eight years."
Her anger faded, though not completely dissipating. "I'm not turning dark," she said, trying to soothe him.
He stared back wretchedly at her. "I see... a dark pattern," he said quietly. "Please. I won't stay tonight if you don't want me here... but please, try to consider what I said. I'm saying it because I'm concerned about you."
She forced the temper flare that had arisen from this remark back down. "I'm going to be fine."
He trudged across the room for his nightclothes. "I hope you're right."
He had almost reached the door when her heart twisted. She was frustrated and exasperated with him, but she didn't want him to leave like this. "Don't go," she burst out. "You can stay."
He stopped and turned around, looking sad, but he still returned to their bed.
They cuddled somewhat listlessly, neither of them feeling like making love. He fell asleep first. Caitlyn remained awake, and before long, she noticed occasional flickers of Justice's light in his face.
The darkspawn, the Magister Sidereal, is tormenting him tonight, she thought miserably. Even after two days that were straight from the Void, he cannot escape that thing at night.
She tried to forgive him for his chastisement of her. This was surely driven by Justice, she decided, and the spirit was on edge from having to fight this darkspawn at night so often. It wasn't his fault.
It's becoming too much, Caitlyn thought as she cuddled against him, trying to soothe him from this side of the Veil. This war has already gone on a lot longer than I thought it would. It began at the start of Dragon 9:37, over two and a half years ago. We've held off some attacks and liberated a city, the weakest point in the schism... but I see no obvious way to end this war.
Maker, it is almost Dragon 9:40. Just a few months. Ten years ago, I was in Ferelden. Anders had not yet reentered my life. Jo Beth wasn't even born. Bethany was alive. Ten years. So much has changed, and Anders and I really have made enormous progress for our fellow mages... but it isn't enough. I wanted more achieved by now. I wanted a victory by now.
This is Justinia's fault. She and the dithering College of Magi. The College more than the Divine, really. They have known perfectly well that other Circles have chosen to rebel, but they haven't voted for it themselves. If they did, that would make a difference. Wouldn't it?
She wasn't sure. As bold as her revolutionary spirit was, she could not completely ignore the words of Cassandra Pentaghast that if the rest of the mages revolted, the great majority of remaining Templars and Seekers would split from Justinia and declare for the Orthodox Chantry. Her forces would be greatly increased, but so would theirs. And the problem of Starkhaven's and Tantervale's nearly impregnable defenses remained.
Something has to change, she thought, but I don't know where to look.
Notes: I think "do as I say or else" Red Hawke would be the most effective ruler to clean up a lawless, corrupt place like Kirkwall, and I've tried to depict her as such. But this is the downside of so empowering her. I'm also aware that her comments about Lord Harimann are profoundly cynical, even for one of my stories, and that he probably did mean well. (That said, I think hers is a defensible position.) Caitlyn does not have his blood on her hands anyway. But she is not inclined to be fair to an assassin's family.
This chapter dropped heavy hints about the future of the supremacists. It is eminently guessable now what I am going to do with them. But I won't confirm or deny anything.
Next chapter: Fenris and Isabela return, and a multi-chapter arc begins about a battle that was foreshadowed in the opening scene of Chapter 71. The Coterie situation explodes too in the next arc. Things are picking up.