Usually Duncan awoke with a start, covered in sweat from his nightmares. Terrifying shadows hunted him down in the endless dark tunnels of the Deep Roads, but the persistent, maddening song of the Archdemon had been muted so as to be unnoticeable during the last two nights. He was surprised to find he woke feeling more rested than he had in a month since the dreams had started. He took a moment to savor the feeling. Instead of taint induced nightmares, he had been back at the Warden compound in Denerim, the inviting aromas of cooking making him long for supper. The Calling was still in the near future, but respite was welcome. He was equally surprised to see the sleeping elf curled up next to him with a warm hand on his bicep. Raviathan was being downright cuddly.

Rain fell hard against the window. Duncan tried to ease out of bed so as not to disturb the elf, but Raviathan's head raised slightly with a murmured "mmm?" that was entirely too cute. Duncan smiled down at the elf, and, on impulse, brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over Raviathan's features. Raviathan stretched under the blankets then blinked the sleep from his eyes.

"You can sleep in more if you'd like," Duncan said, his voice hoarse from sleep.

"Mmmh. Rain's too heavy for travel I take it," Raviathan said, looking out the window.

"For now it is. If it clears up before noon, we'll go. Otherwise we'll need to stay another night."

The elf sat up and stretched again, his muscles flexing this way and that, and for a moment, Duncan envied the easy health of the young. They dressed for breakfast, and following Duncan's example, Raviathan left his armor behind. It made sense, Raviathan thought. If they might not be leaving, why wear the heavy stuff. This was the first day he hadn't worn armor since he left Denerim, and as ill fitting as it was, he was surprised by how quickly he had gotten used to it.

Breakfast consisted of potato cakes and onions with some bacon for flavor, yogurt, butter, fruit preserves, and dark wheat bread. Raviathan smiled and shook his head at Duncan's appetite. "I don't know where you put it all. I've been watching. Not all shems eat that much. Not even the guards."

Duncan merely shrugged the comments away. The elf's eyes sharpened on him. "Can't pull that one on me, Duncan."

"What am I pulling?"

"I'm getting better at reading shems. I can tell you're hiding something."

Duncan raised his eyebrows at the comment then took another bite of bread. Raviathan grinned, mischief written in his shining eyes, and Duncan couldn't help a small smile in return before sobering. "I am not allowed to speak of its cause. Otherwise, I would tell you."

Raviathan regarded him, his head cocked as he thought. "Something that's particular to you, or something that's common among Grey Wardens?"

Duncan squeezed Raviathan's forearm, and gave the elf his full attention. "If I could tell you, I would. You'll have to be content knowing that I wish I could answer all of your questions."

A bit startled by Duncan's intensity, Raviathan nodded before they both turned back to their meal. "So," Raviathan started, "what are our plans today? Since we can't travel."

"One, we'll see if we can get a tailor for your clothes. Maybe some other items. If there is a barn or large enough room available here or further in town, I thought we might train."

Raviathan perked up.

"You like the idea then?"

"It's been ages since I've trained," Raviathan said. "If I'm going to uphold the Order, I'd better sharpen up."

"You might regret that tonight."

Raviathan scoffed. "You think I haven't earned a bruise or twenty before?"

The ate in comfortable silence as Duncan pondered that statement. Why hadn't he thought of Raviathan's lack of injuries before? The elf didn't have the slightest mar on his skin, not from training and not from his battle at the estate. Surely he had been injured. "Do you know how to make healing potions as well?"

"Sure. Cinimar, elfroot, and a base oil. It's not hard. Problem is cinimar is expensive and needs to be processed. I've only been able to get roots, but the oil is most effective."

"How expensive is the oil?"

"Usually around thirty silver or so for a vial. Half sovereign or more for higher quality stuff."

Duncan almost shook his head but caught himself. Though the costs for ingredients would add up, the price still seemed meager compared to the necessity of a whole body. Most households would have a vial of the fast acting healing potion for emergency injuries, but elves would likely not even have that. In the alienage, elves had beautiful children and crippled adults.

When the serving girl passed by, Duncan signaled for her. "Is there an apothecary in town?"

"East, at the edge of town. Old Beth. Backyard overgrown with weeds. Can't miss it."

Duncan pulled out a purse that had five sovereigns worth of coins. "Here. Buy what you need."

The elf took the purse, his eyes widening when he saw gold mixed with silver. "I… Duncan."

"You will be the Wardens' healer. You should be equipped, especially considering that we are going to war." With solemn ceremony, the elf tucked away the pouch of coins. "Take your clothes to be altered by a tailor first. When I'm finished with breakfast, I'll see if there's a barn for us to spar."

"Do you want to meet back here?"

"I'll find you."

Raviathan opened his mouth to protest before shutting it. Despite his travel through the countryside of the Bannorn, Raviathan still measured everything by the sprawling maze that was Denerim. Even Tradetown, which was less than half the size of the Denerim Market, was twice as large as this village. Shaking his head at the strangeness of his new life, he left to get his new clothes to take to a tailor, dressed in armor and weapons, got his oiled cloak, then headed out after receiving directions from the serving girl.

Though the town itself consisted of little more than a collection of houses, a humble chantry, and an inn, Raviathan was fascinated. Everything from the slumping stone and mud architecture to the spaces between buildings he would never see in Denerim was vastly different than anything he had known before. What must it be like to grow up here? Have these homes and muddy streets as your only reference? What would these people think of Denerim's noise and crowds let alone the foreign goods found in the Market?

While the town didn't have a tailor, there was a woman who took in washing and could make alterations. She measured him without fuss after he showed her his coin, though his ears and eyes did get a close examination. Her children stood around the main room staring at him as if he were some exotic animal. They didn't even try to hide their unwavering gaze. "Not many elves around here, are there?"

"Naw, ser. Servants following their lord sometimes. Or the odd Dalish to trade, but that be rare."

One child whispered to his sister, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, "He's so small."

Raviathan raised an eyebrow at the comment. The boy, about ten or so though Raviathan was a poor judge of human children's ages, was still a few inches shorter than he was. Snot ran unchecked from the boy's nose. Most of her children had red noses they either left to leak or rubbed at occasionally. All of them sniffled.

"Look at his eyes," his sister whispered back.

In the alienage, the children would have been given chores to do if they couldn't be polite, especially to a stranger in their home. Raviathan couldn't tell if the difference was from them being human, if humans had a different standard of behavior for elves than they would for their fellows, or if it was this particular family who lacked manners.

"First time they've seen a knife ear up close," the mother said.

Knife ear. Raviathan stiffened at the comment. Heat burned his face, and he wanted out of the house immediately, enough that his skin was itching to get back out into the rain.

"Pretty folk, aren't they," the mother said casting a smile back at her children. Raviathan's brows knit. She hadn't the slightest embarrassment or hesitation at the slur. Bloody shems, he thought.

A child's cry sounded from further within the home. "Ack. That sounds like Ellison. Billy, go see to her, would you, dear?"

The eldest boy left, his gaze focused singularly on Raviathan until the child disappeared into the hall. The other four children continued to stare, the youngest with her thumb in her open mouth, a trail of drool sliding down her hand. Except for the youngest towheaded girl, they all had their mother's unruly, brown curls, square jaw, and thin lips.

"Don't know what's wrong with that child. Just won't stop fussing, especially when I put her down. Not got a wink of sleep last night."

Tension remained in Raviathan's shoulders, but the child's cries called to him, pushing through his resentment. The mother may be another worthless shem, but he couldn't allow her child to suffer for that. Raviathan looked at her children with a critical eye. "Has your family had many colds lately?"

The woman snorted. "Think one is done, then another comes along. All seven of them were laid up."

Seven? No, he must have misheard. He glanced back at the woman who was measuring his legs. She still looked to be in the midst of her third decade. "Seven… children?"

"Seven and this one on the way," she said patting her stomach. She turned her grin up at him. Three of her teeth were missing. "That ain't including my husband neither when he's sick," she said with a wink.

Maker! "Is…" Raviathan cleared his throat when his voice cracked, "is that normal for humans?"

She shrugged. "I was fourth of twenty. Three died as babes, then lost a few brothers and a sister to bandits that came through."

"I… I'm sorry."

"Aye. Jaken was my favorite brother. Took care of me when I was young, he did. Me mother used to say he was too sweet for this world. Maker had a better place ready for him. Ah, but that was years ago. Don't trouble yourself about it."

Twenty children and so many dead. Raviathan couldn't comprehend the numbers. "Your baby, um, had a cold recently?"

"Yeah."

"Has a fever?"

She looked back up at him, curious. "Yes."

"Vomiting or diarrhea?"

Now she sat back on her heels to stare at him. "Yes to both."

"Any ear pulling? Or liquid coming out of her ears?"

"No."

"May I take a look at her?"

She stared at him. "You know about this sort of thing?"

Raviathan indicated his case. "I'm a healer."

"What sort of healer?"

"I took care of all the elves in my alienage. I was going to start a practice, take in humans too, but then the war in the south started, and I was conscripted."

She didn't speak for a long minute, her guard up as it hadn't been before. "How old are you?"

"I've been practicing medicine for six years, on my own for two. Before that, I mixed potions and poultices often." He returned her gaze. "I'm young, but I'm good at what I do."

She hesitated for a moment longer before standing. She beckoned him with a small wave down the hall. Billy was cradling a large baby. Another baby a few months old lay placidly in a crib ignoring the fuss of siblings. Billy looked startled to see him.

"How old is she?"

"Almost two," the mother replied.

Had the baby been an elf, Raviathan would have guessed three from the size, but she was proportional for a two year old, if huge by elven standards. He felt her forehead, looked into her eyes and mouth, sniffed at her ears. He turned to the mother. "Ear infection."

"Is that bad?"

Raviathan shook his head. "Pretty common. Most children get one or two, sometimes more. How long has she been ill?"

"About a week?" she said turning to Billy to confirm.

"Four days," he said.

"Hmm. That's getting to be a bit long. Here," Raviathan said, holding out his arms. "I need to get a sense of her weight."

Billy hesitated, but at his mother's nod, handed his sister over. Her fussing and half cries stopped almost immediately. Grey blue eyes stared up at Raviathan just as her siblings had. Raviathan was shocked by how heavy and solid she felt in his arms.

The mother put a hand on Billy's shoulder as if to steady herself. "She never takes to strangers."

Raviathan smiled at her. "While your children have runny noses, it's best they don't care for her. Because babies have smaller ears, infections are easier to get. I'll make an elfroot potion for her, but you must give it all. I'm going to make it specially for her, so don't give any to your other children. Make sure she gets a small spoonful in the morning, noon, and at night. Now, ear infections will come back if you're not careful. They're like weeds. Even when you pull one out, if you don't get the roots, it'll grow back. We want to give her enough of the potion that we get the root of the infection as well, understand?"

The mother nodded as though still in shock. Raviathan handed her child back and left to make the potion. The difference now was that he had six children and their mother openly staring at him in silence. The only sounds in the room were the rain and grinding elfroot. Why did shems have to stare so? "So, how long for the clothes?"

"Eh? Oh, right," the mother said, turning back to the little pile he had folded on the floor. "A day? Two perhaps?"

"If it stops raining before noon, we'll need to leave."

"Not likely that. We're due for rain. Probably a few days if not a week."

A week? Duncan would likely have them marching in the rain if it came to that. Finished with the potion, he made the mother and Billy repeat his instructions twice before leaving.

Rain pounded outside creating huge puddles in the muddy road and in the depressions in yards. Occasional gusts pushed the already cold rain in a slant that soaked Raviathan's pants to the knees. Picking his way through slick mud and avoiding puddles, Raviathan tightened his cloak about him, his hood lowered and head down to avoid the rain.

The overgrown 'weeds' in the apothecary's yard were actually one of the healthiest assortment of deathroot, elfroot, and other medicinal herbs that Raviathan had ever seen. Strange that the villagers weren't healthier with this treasure available to them.

The woman who greeted him was explanation enough. She had four score years to her age if she had a day. Thick, grey hair knotted in long kinks around her head like moss hanging from a dead tree. Her hands were gnarled into claws, her joints bulging. Bent in spine and shoulders, she bore twin cataracts that peered at him without seeing more than a shadow of shape. "Eh. What's this?"

"I was told this was an apothecary."

"Aye, aye," she said and retreated into her hut. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling giving spiders a fertile place to spin their webs. "You needing something then? Weather like this breeds illness."

Even if she could still mix, Raviathan wouldn't trust her goods. "I'm a healer. I was wondering if we could trade."

One grey filmed eye boggled at him. She hobbled over in an odd sidestepping gait and poked him. "You setting up shop here?"

"No, just passing through. Headed to the King's army in the south."

Her hostility drained away. "Aye then. That'd be alright."

Selfish shem. Raviathan looked around her hut again. Dried bats hung from a beam along with the oddest assortment of straw dolls and bound twigs. The dolls didn't look like any toy he would give a child. A distillery slumped against a wall, but judging from the dust that covered the glass jars, Raviathan suspected that the crone hadn't used it in years. Everything would need to be boiled before the distillery could be useful again. "Do you have any cinimar root or oil?"

The crone cackled. "Haven't seen the like of that in years. And before you get started, I don't have baccas gum or elbas oil neither."

"How do you care for these people without them?" Of all herbalist ingredients, those three were what brought out the power of a plant. Skullcap might be a mild pain reliever, but when combined with elbas oil, the herb was almost as good as magic at calming a patient and taking away pain.

"Heh. Just from that can tell you ain't from here. They wouldn't know wine from vinegar. Snake piss works as well enough for them, doesn't it. Half a healing is in the mind."

For a moment, Raviathan couldn't even contemplate what she meant. Snake piss? In the mind? For a second he wondered if she referred to some Fade ritual unregulated by the Chantry. When it dawned on him what she truly meant, he felt sickened. While a patient's emotional state did effect their health and recovery, hers was a deep betrayal of trust. He regarded the remnants and dolls with disgust now that he was better able to guess at their purpose. "What are the dolls and dried bats for?"

"Child has the fits, I sells those to keep the demon from plaguing them." Raviathan scoffed. The crone's head swiveled at the sound. "Now don't you go a judging. The mix… well my hands shake too much, the oils are too expensive, and my eyes aren't what they used to be. Plenty of parents are happy enough thinking the demon can't get through."

Raviathan eyed her with growing contempt. "Why haven't you had an apprentice?"

"Apprentice?" She snorted. "In a few years time, lose any livelihood I had, wouldn't I. You're a cocky sort, ain't ya. Just you wait until your eyes glaze over and you hurt all the time. See how you feel about starving through a winter."

"You've got a fortune in that garden of yours, uncared for as it is. These people deserve better."

The crone thumped her foot, the sound loud in the small hut. "See here. What did you come for, eh? You're travelling through, plenty of places to stop. What you want with me then?"

Raviathan glared at her. "An apprentice would have cared for you, your garden, and treated the people here right. All for what's in that head of yours. Decades of experience going to waste and about to die out. I, however, need nothing from you."

The crones jaw worked in agitation. Doubtless there wasn't one person in the village willing to risk her wrath after years of poisoning them with superstition. Raviathan started to leave. The sound of rain became loud when he opened the door. The crone called, "Wait. Just wait a moment. I still might have something you be wanting."

Raviathan raised an eyebrow. She couldn't see it, so he asked, "And what might that be?"

She waved her hand at the ceiling. "Got plenty of herbs."

Herbs were like soldiers; both faded away with age. "What you have here isn't fit enough to cook with."

"The garden," she said with a note of desperation. "Said it yourself that it's good. Let you poke around it for a sovereign."

"A sovereign? Elfroot grows free enough on the side of the road."

"I got more than that. Got eddercap, spindleweed, and white clover. Dark embrium?"

The last made Raviathan hesitate. Spindleweed was rare this far south, but embrium grew poorly in Ferelden's cold climate. If she had embrium, particularly dark embrium, that was still alive, the plant was a miracle. "I want to see what you have before we start negotiating."

"Steal from an old woman, you will. No and no."

Raviathan snorted. "Won't even let me see what I'm buying, and you call me a thief?"

"Heh. As if I haven't known a young man or three before. All sweet talk and wheeling until time comes to pay for what you've done."

Raviathan opened his mouth to counter but stopped himself. The woman twisted her head, wondering at his hesitation. Raviathan pursed his lips and left. He wasn't going to deal with this woman, not this person who knowingly cheated and harmed the people she was meant to protect.

"Here, now. Where are you going?"

"If I change my mind, I'll be back."

"Eh? Maker's breath. Alright, alright, you can take a look, but that's all."

Wind swept Raviathan's cloak to the side before he could tuck it back around him. The crone cursed him from her doorway, not that he minded her vitriol. He'd heard far worse before. Wondering if Duncan had found a place for them to practice, Raviathan quickened his pace back to the inn. Raviathan hoped he wouldn't be a disappointment considering he hadn't trained in years. Would Duncan change his mind about conscripting him?

Guard dogs chained to their houses snarled as he passed. Their sharp barks unnerved him, making him think back to the dog that had wanted to bite his face off. The memory of the dog's high pitched squeal of pain and crunch of his bones still bothered him. Animals were helpless, tools of their owners. They weren't like the shems, guards, or nobles who had attacked him. He hadn't had much of a choice about hurting that dog, and if one of these animals managed to get out of their leash and lunged at him, he'd do what he had to.

Was there a way out of situations like that? Those two shems wouldn't listen to him. Neither would the nobles or guards. Could there have been some trickery to use against the shems who wanted to abuse him? Raviathan nibbled his lip as he thought. If there was a bit of trickery, he didn't know it. Avoid trouble to begin with? He hadn't been paying attention with the two shems. Trouble seen was trouble avoided. Was it? What could he have done differently that day Vaughan came?

Raviathan didn't hear the pounding in the mud until the horse was ten paces away. He turned enough to see a rider bearing down on him, sword raised. The man was wild eyed, a thick black beard obscuring his face. Shock froze Raviathan a spit second before he dove to the side, narrowly missing the sword aimed for his head. Maker's bloody ass! Hoof beats thundered past as Raviathan scrambled up from the mud. He slipped once and needed to brace against the wall of the house he landed next to.

Oaths from the rider and further down street sounded. Five more men ran at him from the direction the rider had come from. The rider turned his horse around. The great animal struggled to keep his feet in the slick mud, his head back as the rider pulled hard on the reins. The beast slipped and scrambled as the rider focused his attention back on Raviathan, sword naked in the rain.

What in the Maker's name? Raviathan ducked between the homes. At least here he could narrow the field of battle. The alley was large enough to allow weapons free range, but that also meant that Raviathan could be flanked and taken down. Take on five armed and prepared men? If they came around the side, Raviathan would have to fight on two fronts. He couldn't do that. They would cut him down for sure. Never slowing, Raviathan raced to the end of the alley.

"Get out here, you murdering little knife ear!"

Raviathan's heart sped. Revenge for Denerim? Had Vaughan's friends come after him? Or maybe the soldiers that had escaped the poison and fire? Only the nobles had money for horses.

He had to find Duncan. These men weren't going to listen to him.

At the end of the alley, Raviathan pushed off the wall to gain momentum for his direction change. He ran through a garden only dimly registering the shocked looks from the family inside the house.

"This way! Headed west," one of the shems yelled. "Cut him off by Thatcher's house!"

Flames take him! They weren't going to be easy to evade. Run into a house to cause confusion? But his attackers could just go around to meet him at the other entrance, and going through a house would only slow him down. Raviathan took a sharp turn down another alley hoping that would befuddle their plans to head him off. Pick off a few who were chasing him? Even the odds? Conscription or not, he would become the most hunted man in Ferelden if he killed the search parties who came after him. The town wasn't big enough for him to hide in. He needed to get to Duncan. How? Loop around and hope for the best? He was running east, away from the inn and Duncan.

Raviathan jerked back when a dog lunged at him. His back hit the wall of a house, a moment's shock that stole his breath, as the dog snapped at the end of his leash.

"There! That bastard is doubling back!"

Maker help me. Raviathan turned from the dog and dashed behind another house. He was close to the edge of town. Not many more options. Once he was in the open, they would surround him. Or the rider would charge him down. Spying a barrel, Raviathan jumped on it then propelled himself on the thick roof thatching. He scrambled up on hands and feet, staying as low as he could. If there was anyone in the house, they would be able to hear him. Only a matter of time before he was caught.

Three of the men charged down the alley.

"You see where he went?"

"Heading east. Probably to return to the rest of his murdering kin."

"Split up south and east then?"

"East and north. They were travelling north."

"Probably still hiding though. Let's turn the town out before we start chasing rabbit tales."

If he stayed on the roof tops, maybe they wouldn't find him. At least not until he had covered enough ground that he could find Duncan. Raviathan half crawled, half slipped down the other side of the roof. He had jumped roof to roof before, but the roofs in Denerim were much closer together and often made of wood or clay shingles rather than thatch. He had also never done roof hopping in heavy rain with a full load of armor, weapons, and his healer's case bouncing at his side. Raviathan stood carefully on the thatch eying the distance. The alley was clear, but the rain obscured the sounds the attackers made. Raviathan had no idea how far away they could be. All the dogs were barking by now.

Now or never. Raviathan took two steps back to get enough distance to build his momentum. He flew through the air and just caught the second roof. He hoisted his legs up and scrambled. How had he been able to roof hop as a child? At least these were one story homes. Voices floated up from inside the home as he worked his way to the west side. Though he couldn't make out their words, he was sure they were concerned by the commotion coming from their roof. Rushed, Raviathan leapt for the next home.

His foot fell through the thatch just before he could take off. Raviathan spun and plummeted, the muddy earth slamming up to greet him. The dog tied at the back of the house went into hysterics. Mud seeped in through the cracks of his loose armor. Raviathan got to his feet, a little dazed but not too bad. His ankle didn't feel right though. Probably twisted it when he fell.

Brought by the sounds of the braying dog, two men appeared at the alley. Raviathan took off, hearing curses and calls from behind. He dashed west and back to the main street. Had to get to Duncan.

Halfway down the next alley, the rider blocked him. The horse and rider seemed too big, a great looming tower that blocked all light and escape. Raviathan slid to a halt, slipping in the mud. The rider came forward slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. Panicked, Raviathan unsheathed his sword, swiping it at the horse's head. The horse reared up, as inescapable as an avalanche. His teeth bared, the horse's hooves struck out. An image flashed in Raviathan's mind, the woman crippled and scarred when a horse trampled her. Heart racing, Raviathan raced down the alley.

A man stepped out, but Raviathan didn't even pause. His sword flashed out catching his attacker in the stomach. An angry shout, followed by others, chased Raviathan down. Deciding the rider couldn't get to him if he were inside a home, Raviathan flung open the closest door and charged inside. Maybe he could find a doorway or hall so he wouldn't be flanked. A woman screeched, cowering away from him. The children stared as he ran through. Men shouted from outside.

Dashing through a hallway, Raviathan ducked into a room, closing the door quietly behind him. A nursery. Maker's blood. As if the world needed more shems. Spying a small window over the crib, Raviathan ran. Small, but so was he. No shems on the other side. The sleeping child didn't wake as he pushed the crib aside. Raviathan dropped his case out the window then hauled himself up. He got his head through when he was pulled back. He hadn't even heard them enter the room. Cursing, he tightened his grip and pulled, kicking back at empty air. He couldn't feel a grip. Glancing back, the room was still empty. What? Raviathan groaned when he realized his sword hilt had caught on the window. Of all the stupid...

The door opened behind him followed by more shouting.

"That knife ear is after my baby!" a woman shrieked.

Your baby? What in the world would I do with a giant shem baby? Raviathan scrambled out the window as the baby started to wail. A hand grasped him by the ankle, painfully strong, but a kick dislodged the cursing shem's hand. Raviathan fell on his back, grabbed his case, and headed towards the main street. Where in the Maker's name was Duncan? Surely the whole town was on alert by now.

Further down the tiny side road, Raviathan caught a glimpse of the horse and rider in front of the house he had just escaped along with a larger assortment of villagers who had come to help. Shouts rang out as he dashed to the next alley. Flames take me! Was there any way out of this? Put his back against a wall and fight it out? Fight the whole village until someone got a bow out and shot him? Couldn't outrun a horse. Fire? That had worked before. But the rain. And if there were children in the home who couldn't get out… What to do?

Raviathan dashed across the main street. The horse and rider appeared from the other side of the house on his right. The horse was faster than he, but not as agile. If he could get to the other side, he might be able to keep ahead by dodging through the houses. The villagers were charging behind him, so he had little choice.

In a mad rush, Raviathan dashed across the street. He heard the horse bray, hooves thudding in the mud. Raviathan slid and dodged back as the horse came at him. The rider tried to turn the horse, but Raviathan ducked under the sword slash and sprinted around the animal. The horse now shielded him from the villagers on the other side. Raviathan stumbled, scooped up a handful of mud, and threw it into the rider's face. Shocked and partially blind, the rider cursed, pulling the reins. The horse balked and reared, frightening the villagers from coming too close. When the beast stumbled, Raviathan nearly jumped out of his skin.

The attackers on foot were coming around, flanking him.

"Slippery little bastard, ain't he."

"Who'd have thought one little knife ear would cause this much trouble?"

Raviathan drew his weapons, backpedaling quickly to keep them from flanking. A child's voice called out, "Uncle William! Don't kill him!"

Raviathan glanced over to see Billy running up and waving his hands over his head. "Billy, get back to your home," Raviathan ordered, pointing with his dagger.

The men glanced at each other. The boy paid no heed, instead standing in front of Raviathan. The child had wide, frightened eyes, his mouth open, but he would not budge. "Billy," Raviathan hissed. "This is no place for you. Get back home!" He sheathed his dagger and pushed the child behind him. He jerked his sword when one of the original attackers neared to close.

"Billy," the rider said, warning in his voice. "Leave. Now."

The child gulped but would not budge. "Uncle, he cared for Ellison. He's a healer. On his way south to the army."

"South?" The attackers glanced at each other.

"Only Dalish carry weapons," the rider said to Raviathan.

"Dalish?" Raviathan stared at the man. They thought he was Dalish? So, not from Denerim on a mission of revenge. No wonder they knew the town so well. "I'm from the Denerim alienage."

"Uncle," Billy said, "I saw him. He figured out Ellison right quick. Made a potion for her and everything. Said he was con-script-id for the King's army."

The rider took Raviathan's measure. "Who's the Arl of Denerim?"

"Urien Kendells," Raviathan said without hesitation.

"William," one of the attackers said. "Anyone can know that."

"Who's the arl of South Reach?" The rider's gaze never wavered from Raviathan.

Raviathan shook his head.

"Arl of Dragon's Peak? Teyrn of Gwaren?"

"I don't know, ser."

"Elves don't follow human politics. Especially the Dalish. They can sometimes name the King and that's about it. Only city elves know the bann or arl that's over them." The rider sheathed his weapon, apparently satisfied.

"Then why'd he run?" one of the men asked.

"Because he," Raviathan said indicating the rider, "nearly took my head off with that sword. Pardon me for assuming you weren't going to listen at that point."

"You're a healer," the rider said.

"Yes, ser."

The rider gestured at his men. "Take him. We'll bring him back to the farmstead."

"What?" Raviathan backed up with his sword raised. "You can't just snatch me off the street." Maker curse these arrogant bastards. They had been prepared to run him through based on nothing more than an assumption. What qualms would they have about a little kidnapping.

"You think that's wise, William?"

"We need a healer. Old Beth can't do more than shake sticks and moan."

"You just tried to kill me," Raviathan squawked. "I don't even get an apology for that before you try to kidnap me?"

"Take him," the rider said, unimpressed.

Raviathan backed up, keeping Billy behind him. "No. I'm a Grey Warden. You've no right to attack me during a blight, let alone kidnap me."

One of the men snorted. "A Grey Warden? You?"

"We'll have none of you lies, knife ears."

"I'm here with Warden Commander Duncan. We're staying at the inn. Talk to him if you don't believe me."

One of the men who had been silent so far spoke up. "What if he's telling the truth?"

"A Warden knife ear? You off your head?"

The quiet one spoke again. "Darkspawn in the south. Rumors are this is a blight."

"Doesn't make him anything but a knife ear with a big mouth."

The rider wheeled the horse around, making the villagers shy away. "I said take him! We've got little enough time as it is."

"Now wait just one bloody second," Raviathan said, raising his sword to the men who approached. "I've said the truth. Send someone to the inn…"

The horse jumped forward. Startled, Raviathan shied away. The men were ready to take advantage of the distraction and knocked his sword aside. Before he could do more than yelp, Raviathan was hauled up. The rider's arm was like steel around his stomach, settling Raviathan firmly astride the horse. Gut fluttering from the horse's movement and height, Raviathan could do little more than clutch the shem's arm and curse his luck.