"If trouble comes when you least expect it then maybe the thing to do is to always expect it."
The Road ~ Cormac McCarthy
Maker! Cullen rolled his stiff shoulders forward tiredly.
He'd been sorting through the new map folios for the War Room with the cartographer for the past hour, secretly commending himself for dodging Josephine's guests for what would have been an undoubtedly tortuous exchange of pleasantries and platitudes among wits already soaked in too much wine. He had spent most of the evening before that debriefing his soldiers, receiving reports about Red Templar activity, red lyrium caches, frozen passes hindering troop movement, silverite and dawnstone deposits and the best way to set up an operation to extract them…It went on and on, and once they'd gotten around to discussing some final, minor technicalities, he found himself yearning to return to Evelyn's side. He'd been close to wrapping things up for the evening when the young, red-faced recruit from the Guard burst into the room.
"Commander Cullen! I am sorry… I am delayed. I couldn't find you anywhere," the boy gasped. "A mage has been detained—"
"What is the charge?" he asked, stacking the map folios and tapping them over the table into a tidy pile."
"Blood magic," he said with a spooked expression.
Cullen raised his hand to scratch the back of his neck— a gesture those who knew him well understood as his being tired, frustrated, or flustered. Sometimes all three. The timing couldn't have been worse. The fact he had more senior templars off on a mission in Orlais and a few others who had been granted furloughs after Adamant meant that he had been left with a rather inexperienced group. The lack of any serious incidents among the mages since Haven had made him overconfident. He should have known better, he chided himself, especially as he was still recovering from the worst symptoms of his lyrium withdrawal.
"Who brought the mage in?"
"Struthers…and the other one…the tall one, with the mustache," the guard comically lifted his wiggling fingers to his lips. Cullen inhaled deeply so he wouldn't chuckle.
"Avery," Cullen corrected him. "And…?"
"That's all, Commander," the messenger declared. "They just wanted you to know that the mage is in custody."
"And did they determine whether or not the mage was letting blood?"
"Pardon?"
Cullen sighed.
"Did they determine whether or not the mage had any cuts…anything whatsoever that would indicate traces of blood magic? Did they investigate the mage's quarters for any tools, any equipment, any other materials?" he offered helpfully.
The guard appeared utterly confused.
This one is so green. Country boy. Someone's having a good laugh at me somewhere.
"Go back and ask. These are things I need to know before I can decide anything." He looked at the cartographer and leaned back into his chair. "We might as well continue," he stated with resignation.
When the door burst open half an hour later, he expected to see the breathless guard again. Instead, Struthers himself marched in.
"Commander!"
"Struthers." He sat up with concern.
"I have a sensitive matter to discuss…" He directed his gaze at the cartographer. "In private."
"Very well. We'll call it a night," he nodded to the man.
He quickly gathered his papers, rulers, compasses, and quill, undoubtedly relieved, and jaunted out of the room before Cullen could change his mind again.
"That Chauncey's an idiot," Struthers mumbled. "Fell off the turnip wagon, that one. Wastes half the evening trying to locate you and then doesn't know what to say."
"Do we have a blood mage on our hands or not?" Cullen raised an eyebrow.
Struthers launched into a long-winded explanation of how they had brought the mage in based on an accusation made by a guard who affirmed he'd been attacked and almost killed by the mage's demon.
"Did you make the guard take you back to the location of the attack?"
"No, Commander," he admitted. "The man was very shaken up—"
"Pity!" Cullen concluded. "There would have been vestiges of magic—traces of spells that required blood. Perhaps even a nice, large, obvious puddle of blood! You do realize that, correct?" he asked, straining against his impatience. The templar nodded guiltily. "Please tell me you examined the mage while Avery searched his…or her… quarters for any evidence."
The templar cleared his throat.
"No, Commander…" he offered contritely. Before Cullen could react, the templar continued, "It would have been pointless because we were at the dispensary and there are all kinds of blood letting tools there—"
"The dispensary?" Cullen squinted.
"Yes, Commander. The mage was Master Adan's apprentice."
Cullen resisted the urge to pound his fist on the table.
"Do you understand you are no longer serving the Chantry?"
The man nodded.
"Then you must also understand the Inquisition implemented certain procedures at Skyhold to secure fair treatment of all people!" He emphasized the 'all.'
The man nodded again, slowly.
"And I am sure you realize that if there is anyone who would have known whether his apprentice was a budding maleficar it would have to be one of the foremost alchemists in all of Thedas! Did you even bother to ask him for any aid? Insight?"
"He was quite cross when we took her away," Struthers admitted.
"There's a reason mages won't trust us and if we continue to behave as the templars of old, then we will continue to see mages taking matters into their own hands, usually with disastrous results," he explained frustratedly.
A knock on the door distracted him.
"Commander Cullen!" It was Avery. "I have an update!"
"Come in!"
"Commander," Avery said, respectfully, as he entered the room. "The mage's accuser came back in." He paused for effect. "He says the demon returned to attack him."
Struthers cast Cullen a smug look of vindication.
Of course, there is always the chance that the accused blood mage IS a blood mage, Cullen concluded, staring ahead stoically.
Another knock sounded on the door. It was redundant; the door was already open.
"Come in!" Cullen found himself almost growling.
"Commander Cullen, I have a message from the Inquisitor." It was one of Leliana's agents.
"Yes, go ahead."
"The Inquisitor is aware that a mage, Master Adan's apprentice, is under suspicion of performing blood magic and has been taken into custody. She requests that you look into this matter personally as a favor to Master Adan, her esteemed friend," the messenger reported dutifully.
Of course, news always finds its way to Evelyn—even when she is supposed to be recovering quietly.
The note had barely touched his hands when he heard hurried footsteps stop at the doorway.
"Out of my way," he heard the stern Nevarran-accented voice order both Avery and Struthers. "Cullen, we need to talk."
"What's the matter?" he asked.
What isn't the matter tonight? he thought.
Cassandra glared at the two templar guardsmen disapprovingly.
"If you are both here, then who is watching the mage?" she inquired.
"Ch-Chauncey," Avery announced nervously.
"Chauncey? You left a suspected maleficar alone with Chauncey?" the Seeker asked, incredulously.
Cullen secretly hoped it wasn't so, if only to save face from the Seeker's blunt scorn.
"Chauncey… and Montague," Avery gulped.
Thank the Maker. At least that much they'd done right.
Cullen rose at last.
"I'd appreciate it if you refrained from upbraiding my men."
At his words, both Avery and Struthers pulled themselves up into a straighter stance. Yes, he'd knock their heads together later for the blatant disregard of procedure, but he'd do so privately. No need to humiliate them before the Seeker.
She frowned at them all.
"Let's talk now," she stated impatiently.
"Go back to your stations," Cullen ordered his men.
They gave him a formal salute in acknowledgment. Cassandra observed them leave with an amused expression.
"That was going quite well, right until they gave you a nice Chantry templar salute."
Cullen eyed her sheepishly.
We're all struggling to overcome old habits, apparently.
Cassandra leaned against the table, crossing her arms.
"You can release the mage."
They noticed Leliana's agent was still skulking by the doorway, waiting for instructions.
"You can go back," Cullen called out. "Tell the Inquisitor I'll update her…personally…once I have verified a few matters."
He smiled briefly, thinking she might appreciate the subtle innuendo.
Once the agent disappeared down the hall, Cullen turned to Cassandra again.
"What about this demon?…"
"It is Cole," she revealed.
"Cole?" Cullen asked, confused. "How?…"
"He told the accuser his name. He wanted us to know. And now I cannot find him anywhere."
"Do you think Cole's—"
"I don't know," Cassandra said warily. "Here is what I have so far, however: he's allegedly attacked the same guard twice. He's missing. The mage is involved somehow, although there is no evidence of blood magic, and the guard accusing them is a known drunk. There is definitely more to the story."
"Where would he go?" Cullen wondered pensively.
"Maybe Solas can help?"
"Perhaps…We should let him know, regardless, in case Cole goes to him." Cullen peered at the doorway. "I should also let Evelyn know."
"And Varric…and Bull…and maybe Blackwall…" Cassandra listed. "Those who are friendly with him."
What a splendid mess.
"And Sera, too, of course…" Cullen teased. Cassandra snorted, her face finally relaxing into a slight grin.
"Go to Evelyn— I'll talk to the others and send word to release the mage." She examined his face and pat him lightly on the back as she prepared to leave. He wondered if she was concerned about his soundness of mind given his most recent bout with overcoming his addiction.
"But I should—"
"Don't overdo it, Cullen. Just go to her," she reassured him. "I think templar-mage relations at Skyhold could use a boost right about now."