Chapter 2: Politics As Usual
Denerim, the Arl of Redcliffe's Estate
"The nobles will see reason, Teagan. You must have faith in our countrymen." Arl Eamon of Redcliffe finished pouring the deep amber brandy into a cut crystal glass and handed it to his younger brother.
Teagan threw back the drink in one swift gulp, earning a glare of disapproval from Eamon. So what if the Antivan brandy was perfectly aged and only taken out on occasions that were either very special or very troubling? "Loghain is persuasive, brother. He has his reputation on his side, and he is the only one who returned from Ostagar."
"Along with his lieutenant Cauthrien and Gwaren's troops," Eamon pointed out.
"Who will all be on Loghain's side."
Eamon sipped his own brandy, pausing to savor the taste of the drink. "You're treading on dangerous ground, Teagan. Loghain's always been faithful to Ferelden, and had our brother-in-law's trust until the very end. Without Loghain, Maric wouldn't have lived to become our brother-in-law."
"He left our nephew to die on the field. He defied direct orders from the king." Teagan reached for the crystal decanter, and when Eamon put his arm out to block his younger brother's reach, Teagan simply pushed Eamon's hand out of the way. "You cannot forget that we, too, are servants of the crown. And Loghain did not just leave his king to die, but left our sister's child. Rowan's son, Eamon."
Rowan had always been a soft spot between the brothers. "What would you have us do, Teagan? Especially against the likes of Loghain."
Teagan now sipped at his second glass of brandy, savoring as he thought. "Loghain demands soldiers. You know he'll come for yours, since you kept them from Ostagar."
Eamon bristled. "I offered; Cailan would neither wait for them, nor give me the dignity of a response."
Teagan held up his hand. "I'm not arguing with you over that. My point is, Loghain will come for your men because, unlike the other Arlings, you have them. He will demand you unite under Gwaren's banner."
"I'll do no such thing."
"I know. But he will pull rank, as a Teyrn, and as Anora's regent."
Eamon frowned and tipped the last drops of brandy down his throat. "Why Anora didn't speak is beyond me. She's the queen, and has ruled capably beside Cailan."
"And Loghain's her father," Teagan pointed out. He paced the stone floor of the study, worn smooth by just this sort of pacing done by Arls and Banns throughout history. "Remember when our father sent us to the Free Marches?"
A ghost of a smile tickled Eamon's features. "And let Rowan stay with him to fight. How could I forget?"
"You yelled at him something terrible," Teagan said with his own smile. "But he held. Father was a strong man and a good leader. And hard to say no to, when he gave a direct order. Especially to his children."
Eamon nodded slowly. "I see what you mean, brother." He rubbed his clean-shaven chin and stared out the window that oversaw the bustling Denerim marketplace. Gwaren soldiers were stationed at the large gate that led out of the market, while city guards milled about, looking nervously at their new competition. Peasants and shopkeepers came and went, hardly taking notice of the silent power struggle going on around them. "I'll be dead before I let that farm boy excuse for nobility take the throne of Calenhad," Eamon said, clenching his jaw. "Maric and Rowan's legacy demands better than that. Ferelden deserves more than that."
Teagan couldn't help but smile. "So what now?"
Eamon turned, his gray-blue eyes flashing with determination. "I'll return to Redcliffe and begin to outfit my army for mobilization."
Teagan raised an eyebrow. "You mean to march on Denerim?"
Eamon returned the gesture with a smile. "No. But if Loghain comes demanding Redcliffe's aid for his cause, whatever tripe it may be, he'll have to fight us first. What will you do?"
Teagan shrugged. "What I do best: cause trouble." Eamon's laugh filled the sunlit study. "I will ride out across the Bannorn and spread the word. See if we can't unite the smaller landholdings into a larger force for Loghain to reckon with. And from there to Rainesfere where I'll batten down the hatches." This last comment was made with an uncharacteristically grim expression on Teagan's face.
Eamon nodded. "I'll notify the head of the staff to prepare our things for a sunrise departure."
Teagan shook his head so violently the small braid he wore whistled in the air. "I think we're better off leaving as soon as we can be ready, and then riding out hard in separate directions."
"Paranoid much?"
"Loghain knows his position is precarious, and if he's declared himself the regent then what we're planning would amount to treason in his eyes," Teagan said. Already he had set down his glass and was putting his mail gauntlets back on. "If we must go, we must go quickly. Otherwise we risk being trapped in the city with his men blocking any communication attempts we make."
Eamon nodded. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, but when he dropped his hand and looked back up at his younger brother, his expression was resolute. "In that case, Maker watch over you, brother."
Teagan clasped Eamon's hand, then pulled him in for a hug. "And over you as well."
Though banns were not high ranking landholders by Ferelden standards, and Teagan's own Bannorn of Rainesfere was a part of Eamon's much larger Arling of Redcliffe, his position as the king's uncle had given him a higher standing and afforded him more privileges amongst the nobles. His voice in the Landsmeet was always heard, and given as much respect and consideration as that of a full Arl: which was why he knew he would be one of Loghain's first targets… but why he also knew the others in the Bannorn would listen to him.
Packing his few belongings and saddling Arod were easy matters, and he galloped out of Denerim, headed west, before the sun even started to dip in the sky. Eamon would be no more than an hour behind him, and would be bound for the southwest. All he could hope was that he was buying his older brother the time they needed to get out of the capital city.
Rainesfere was just under a fortnight out from Denerim, but with all the stops he needed to make, Teagan knew it could be nearly a month before he made it home.
If he made it home.
As he let Arod trot into the setting sun, he didn't let himself think about that. He couldn't, and that was simply that. The Guerrins of Redcliffe were resilient; always had been. He'd been very young when his father was killed by the usurper's soldiers, and fourteen, Rowan had died. But he'd remained strong, as much for himself as for his five-year-old nephew.
As he rode, Teagan felt sadness welling up inside of him at the memory of Cailan as a young boy. He was a copy of Maric down to his blue eyes and crooked smile, but his mannerisms were so thoroughly Rowan that Teagan was always amazed.
And now Cailan was dead. His last link to his sister, other than Eamon, was gone.
Teagan pushed Arod on until after the sun had set, and it was only when he could barely see in front of him and Arod stumbled slightly that he reined in his horse and set up camp in a thicket well off the road. He'd considered heading toward Amaranthine, second only to Redcliffe in size and power as far as the Arlings went. But he'd caught sight of Arl Rendon Howe at the Landsmeet, whispering to Loghain. If the Arl was still in Denerim, that would give Teagan the upper hand when it came to getting through to the Banns scattered around Amaranthine…
He drifted to sleep with his hand on his sword and his thoughts cycling the intricacies of Fereldan politics through his mind.
Morning dawned, but Teagan hardly felt rested. He cleaned up his rough campsite, making sure to sweep over his footprints with a fallen tree bough. Maybe Eamon had been right when he accused him of being paranoid. Teagan yawned as he mounted an equally sleepy Arod, and they were off again.
Teagan followed the road between the foothills and took a southern heading toward Dragon's Peak. Bann Sighard was a sensible man. Dragon's Peak's proximity to Denerim often made it a good place to go for information about the capital without actually setting foot inside the capital. But it would also make this first stop short and sweet; if Loghain's men didn't know he'd headed out already, they must know by now.
By the time Arod trotted across the stone bridge leading into Sighard's courtyard, the Bann of Dragon's Peak was waiting for him.
"News travels fast, Teagan," Sighard said in answer to Teagan's unasked question. "Faster than you can ride, even." He chuckled as he clapped Teagan on the shoulder.
"I wanted to create a trail to keep any followers off of Eamon," Teagan explained. "Had I come straight here last night I might be keeping Teyrn Loghain company right now."
Sighard's face darkened as they walked into the castle. "I've always trusted your sense, Teagan, and not because you're related to the king, Maker rest his soul."
Teagan passed the better part of the morning with Sighard, whose seneschal was kind enough to supply Teagan with more provisions. "Though I doubt you'll find many doors closed to you, Teagan," Sighard said. "Loghain is the Hero of River Dane. But my fealty was sworn first to the blood of Calenhad."
Teagan bowed his head. "Your allegiance to my brother-in-law and my nephew's memories is appreciated."
Sighard smiled. "I do it for them, yes. But I'd do it for you as well, were you not uncle to the dead king." He held Arod's reins as Teagan mounted up again. "Where will you go next?"
"I'll continue west. Hit up the northern Bannorn and skirt along Amaranthine and Highever." He took the reins. "Perhaps I'll stop in Highever and speak with Teyrna Eleanor. The Couslands have been friends with Loghain since the rebellion, but they're also unwaveringly loyal to the crown." Sighard had gone silent, and if Teagan didn't know any better, perhaps a little pale. "Sighard?"
"Then you've not heard."
Teagan felt as if Ferelden winter had come and settled in his stomach. "Heard what?"
"Teyrn Bryce's eldest, Fergus, marched the Highever troops down to Ostagar. Bryce was to follow the next day, leaving the Teyrna and his daughter in charge of Highever, but they were ambushed. The whole family's been wiped out, man, woman, child. It was a massacre, from what I've heard."
Teagan clenched the reins in his fists and tried to ignore the lightheaded feeling within him. "By whom?"
Sighard looked about, as if afraid of spies and conspirators within his own walls. "They say those who infiltrated Castle Cousland bore the heraldry of Amaranthine."
"Which makes Arl Howe…"
"He's calling himself Teyrn of Highever." Sighard shook his head. "I'll send my messengers out through the southern Bannorn while you take the north. Maker speed you along, and may you return to Rainesfere safely."
Teagan nodded. "Thank you, Sighard. A hundred times, thank you. You're a good ally."
"If it keeps Loghain from the throne, I'll give every last soldier and coin I possess," Sighard said, tugging absently at his pale beard.
"As will I," Teagan said. With that, he spurred Arod into a trot and headed west.
