Chapter Three
As Bryce turned his horse towards Ostagar, he paused and turned his head.
"You can stop following me, Cade. I know you're there. Come ride beside me."
There was silence for a few moments then a rustling of grasses before Cade emerged. His horse sauntered up to the Prince.
"Your Majesty," Cade said, slightly bowing in his saddle.
"Mother put you up to this," Bryce remarked in a slightly accusatory tone. Cade just smiled but said nothing.
"I see we are not yet heading back to Denerim," Cade remarked.
"No. I want to go back to Ostagar and pay my respects." Cade nodded and the two men put their horses into a leisurely but steady pace.
They rode in silence for a while when Bryce turned to Cade. "How close were you to our meeting?"
"Close enough that if someone threatened you, they would not have gotten the opportunity to touch you, Majesty."
His answer surprised Bryce as he never saw where Cade was hiding but there was a comfort knowing he was around.
"Then you saw the figure above us at the ruins."
"Yes, Majesty."
"What did you observe?"
"The same as you, Majesty; a mage watching the proceedings."
"Nothing more?"
"The person was too far away for me to see anything further."
"Do you think they might still be there?"
"Perhaps although I cannot imagine anyone making their home in the ruins. Most likely a traveler that happened upon you and just decided to watch."
Bryce nodded. They rode the rest of the way in silence. When they reached the entrance to the Tower of Ishal, they dismounted and tied the horses, then walked to the battlefield.
"If you wouldn't mind, Cade, I would like to do this alone."
"Of course, Majesty." Cade bowed and let Bryce walk towards the monument alone.
Bryce stood back to observe the structure. It was a large obelisk. At the top was a Mabari representing the legion of Ferelden's war dogs that fell in battle. At the base on each of the four sides was a scene from the battle; the charging army, the lighting of the Tower, Cailan rallying the army, Duncan leading the Grey Wardens. There was a band around the top of the reliefs that separated them from the long list of names of the fallen. Above Cailan's relief, his name was alone at the top of the list with the names of his soldiers in three rows beneath. His name, Cailan Theirin, King of Ferelden, was in large letters with the names of the others in smaller type. There were so many names below and the names continued on each side adjacent. So much death and loss.
Bryce read the column of names and then stared at the name of an Uncle he never knew. But he felt a kinship with this man, this King of Ferelden, who shared the same blood that flowed in his veins; the blood of King Maric, Queen Moira and the centuries of Theirin kings and queens that ruled Ferelden all the way back to Calenhad. He felt a pride and duty that he had never felt before, not even when his father and mother would tell him of their family and national history. And for the first time he realized what a sacrifice by a King truly meant.
He read some of the names on the other two sides of the monument, then walked to the side opposite Cailan's; the side reserved for the Grey Wardens. On this side, centered along the top was the name Duncan, Commander of the Grey. Listed below were the names of all the Grey Wardens who fell at Ostagar. Every Ferelden Grey Warden was listed on that obelisk, everyone except two. Bryce stared at Duncan's name and then at the bas-relief of the man for whom he was named. His mother had told him that he had been named after four great men; Bryce Cousland, his maternal grandfather; Alistair, his father, Duncan, Warden-Commander of Ferelden and Maric, his paternal grandfather. Bryce knew he would never become a Grey Warden, but he did like this connection to the order. His father had admired Duncan greatly and had told Bryce of his heroic deeds; it was a lot to live-up to.
As Bryce thought about Duncan, Cailan, the army and the Grey Wardens all lost and sacrificed here, an unexpected feminine voice broke his reverie.
"Well, well, what have we here?" the sultry voice asked.
Bryce turned to see a young woman near his own age dressed in assassins' leathers that hugged her shapely form, a cloak fastened around her shoulders and a mage's staff strapped to her back. He gazed into her face and thought there was something vaguely familiar about her features. Her dark hair was flowing but swept away from her face and secured at the back of her head. Her nose was pert and sharp but her face was soft; her cheeks full with high cheekbones. Her eyes were greenish-gold and looked almost feral. But there was an amused smile on her bow-shaped lips as she asked her question to him.
Bryce smiled his most charming smile. "I am but a traveler making a pilgrimage to pay my respects at this sacred site."
"You must be Fereldan, then" the woman responded, "for I think only a Fereldan would describe this place as sacred."
Bryce was impressed with her observation and intellect. "I am indeed Fereldan, but I take it by your comment that you are not."
"I was not born here, but both my parents are Fereldan," she replied. She nodded towards the insignia on Bryce's shield. "You have traveled from Denerim, then? I see the royal crest on your shield."
"No hiding that I am a member of the King's Guard then," he smiled, "so yes, I have traveled from Denerim."
The woman kept her smile in place, but Bryce had a feeling she did not entirely believe him, especially since she resembled the figure who had taken such an interest in his meeting a few hours earlier.
"You are much too young to have participated in this battle. Is there any special reason for you to visit?"
"Truth be told, my parents fought at Ostagar and survived, but a close friend of theirs did not. I thought I would stop and pay my respects to him since I am named after him."
"My father fought at Ostagar as well," she remarked. "Perhaps I know of this man you speak?"
Bryce smiled, "And in so telling you, you learn my name."
She grinned, "So then will you not tell me?"
"Only if you promise to give me your name in return."
"Agreed."
"His name is Duncan and therefore that is my name as well." This was the name he used when he wished to maintain some kind of anonymity. Bryce was just too well-known. And there was truth when he told people his name was Duncan.
The young woman's eyes gazed at the monument. "Commander of the Grey, a person of importance indeed."
"And now, my lady, it is your turn to reveal who you are."
"I am called Keera," she said.
"A beautiful name, Lady Keera. I am honored to meet you."
"Just Keera," she replied, "and I am pleased to meet you Ser Duncan."
"Just…Duncan," he grinned. "What brings you to Ferelden?"
Keera paused before answering. "A family reunion," she finally responded, "as well as some personal business of my own."
"Well, the day is getting on and I need to return to Denerim," Bryce stated.
"My mother's childhood home isn't too far away…in the Kocari Wilds. That is why I am traveling through the ruins. Perhaps you would like to stay there before returning to Denerim?"
Bryce smiled. "Thank you, but no. I was on business for the King but now that it is concluded, I am expected back in Denerim. But if you ever find yourself there, I wouldn't mind being your guide around the city. Just send word to the palace."
"Addressed to just Duncan?"
"I am the only Duncan there so the note will find me. I hope to see you in Denerim. Good day, Keera." Bryce bowed then took his leave.
Keera watched him go, her eyes becoming mere slits. "Count on it," she replied.