CHAPTER 2

It was the low, dangerous warning growl from Draven that woke Briar up.

Fergus had already left with his men for Ostagar after a lengthy goodbye with his family; leaving them with what remained of the castle's guards and the few men Howe had brought with him.

"Draven…" She murmured tiredly, sitting up and stared at him; her eyes adjusting to the dim candlelight that lit her room. "What is it?"

His small, pointed ears were flat against his head; his mouth bared in a snarl as he continued growling.

A loud noise that she immediately identified as a body hitting the hard stone that made up the floor had Briar on her feet. Her door was heavy and would hold long enough –providing someone tried getting in and then by chance managed to make it a step in with their throat intact- for her to dress.

Practice made slipping into a sleeveless top and her full armor a short job. Quickly, purposefully, she got into the chest that rested at the foot of her bed. Inside rested her Dar'Misu daggers, a black sporran that would hang from her belt and also contained three small vials of healing potion, an acid bomb she had filched from Fergus as well as fifty silver pieces.

Usually, she kept her Dar'Misu's in their sheaths on her back but she had a feeling she was going to need them.

Draven was pacing in front of the door anxiously, his low growls never ceasing.

Pressing a finger to her lips, Briar stepped back against the wall behind the door and reached for the handle.

Draven laid down, feigning sleep.

Slowly, she opened the door; hearing footsteps.

"Where the bloody hell is the-"

She hadn't wasted any time in remaining hidden but stepped out; bringing the blade of one of the Dar'Misu's across the stranger's throat; closing her eyes as a warm spray of blood hit her; her lips pressed firmly together to keep the blood from trickling into her mouth.

She heard a thud and opened her eyes; staring down with wide eyes. This was one of Arl Howe's men.

Her first thought was that this was a mistake, there must be some sort of misunderstanding here but she heard a shrill scream from across the hall that was abruptly cut off and knew it wasn't.

They had been betrayed.

"OREN!"

Briar wasn't aware she had screamed her nephew's name, already darting across the hall; dimly aware more enemies were approaching, noting in the back of her mind that there was an archer to her left; half hidden behind a statue.

Access to the rooms Fergus and his family occupied was blocked when a burly guard sporting the Howe crest on his armor stepped before her.

"Come now, lassie, be a good girl and this won't be so bad." He smiled at her, revealing black stumps where teeth had been.

Briar came out of her almost stupor and looked around, truly looked around. The odds were stacked highly against her, and though she was confident in her abilities to take down men twice her size and fare well against multiple opponents; this was a fight she could not win.

"Kill them all, Briar!"

Thank the Maker for her mother, she thought; Eleanor's words stirring her into action. Twin daggers were propelled into action; slashing and stabbing through the assembled assailants.

Eleanor was armed with a yew longbow and poison laced arrows, taking down the men Briar didn't.

When they had cleared the hall; they shared a brief embrace before Briar –mindful suddenly of her gory condition- pulled away; looking at her mother's shining armor, now marred with blood.

Draven stood off to the side; his muzzle coated in blood and some gore from his own exertions.

"What's going on, Briar?" Eleanor demanded after doing a quick visual sweep of her daughter for wounds and finding nothing.

"I don't know… The Arl's men… they attacked. Where's father?"

"He was downstairs with… with Howe. I heard a scream."

That brought Briar's original goal back to the forefront of her mind and without saying a word she darted into Fergus' suites, halting a few feet in.

Behind her, Eleanor let out an anguished cry; dropping to her knees. "My poor Oren, my poor precious baby, who would do this?"

Briar didn't say a word; her jaw set sternly as well as her face though inside a wild woman buried deep within her heart was screaming in horror, in agony and pain. Quietly, she crouched down by her nephew and sister-in-law, Oriana.

Eleanor stifled her grieving wails; watching through glistening eyes as Briar arranged the two in such a way that they might have been sleeping. If not for the blood that soaked their clothes and the hint of a stomach wound peeking through Oriana's favorite nightdress, a robe brought with her from Orlais.

"Come." She murmured, placing a hand on Briar's shoulder and gently squeezed; stepping away as the youth got to her feet. "We must…"

"Find Howe and gut him like the pig he is!" It was all too clear now that this had all been planned, from the 'delay' of his troops right down to murdering the remaining Cousland's in their sleep.

Her mother's vicious smile clearly indicated that Eleanor liked that idea, very much but she shook her head no. "We must find your father."

If he lives, they both mentally added.

***

It had all been in vain.

Battling throughout the castle was no easy feat and would have undoubtedly ended up with them both dead if not for Draven and his powerful jaws. It helped even more when they picked up a few remaining soldiers that had seen the fall of the castle to Howe's men.

Ser Gilmore they had stumbled across. He had been fighting his way towards their rooms on the upper levels of the castle but been delayed, numerous times thanks to Howe's men.

It had been Ser Gilmore who had informed them just how deep Howe's treachery ran.

"Him and the Teyrn had been going over battle plans, having an ale when Howe's men… Your father was going to the larder…"

"Of course," Eleanor had breathed, letting out a shaky laugh. "There's an escape route through the larder, only a few know of. We must get there, too him."

"What about Howe?" Briar had asked, breathing heavily through her mouth; wiping blood from her lips only to smear it across her cheek.

"Howe will be dealt with but we must find your father! Obey me, Briar!"

That was not the tone of her mother but the tone of Eleanor, battlemaid of Highever. It was a voice of command and Briar just nodded, unable to say anything.

Now here they were, in the larder. Ser Gilmore had retreated to the main hall with the rest of the remaining knights to hold the door against Howe's forces who were steadily beating against it with a battering ram.

They had found Bryce.

"Father!" Briar rushed over to him; but didn't touch him; leaving that to her mother as she took in the blood that was staining his right side through his doublet which was already soaked and knew instantly he had been stabbed.

"Bryce!" Eleanor crouched down beside him; careful of his right side which he was clutching, tears in her eyes. "Maker's Breath, what is happening? You're bleeding."

"Howe's men… found me first… Almost did me in right there." It was obvious speaking caused him pain.

Briar gripped her Dar'Misu's even tighter, her knuckles turning white. "We need to get you out of here, Father." She said softly, already knowing that moving him would be impossible.

He looked up at her, understanding in his eyes along with agony, both mental and physical. "I won't survive the standing."

She took a deep breath, forcing the lie from her lips. "That's not true. You'll be fine." She was trying to be calm, to be somewhat rational and it was no easy feat with the expression dawning on her mother's face as Eleanor stroked Bryce's hair.

He almost smiled, blood appearing in the crack between his lips. "My darling girl," The blood seeped from the side of his mouth in a fine trickle. "If only will could make it so."

Eleanor hesitated before saying what was apparently on her mind. "Once Howe's men break through the gate they will find us. We must go!"

Briar nodded, holding out her hands as if to raise Bryce to his feet after sheathing her daggers.

He shook his head, feebly wiping away the blood that lightly but steadily flowed from his mouth. "Someone must reach… Fergus… Tell him what has happened."

She nodded again but didn't say what she was thinking. Howe must have something planned for him too.

Eleanor was shaking her own head. "Bryce no, the servant's passage is right here. We can flee together, find you healing magic." She said desperately, one of the tears finally running down her cheek.

"The castle is surrounded." He said, sounding almost desperate though the desperation wasn't for himself but his family; his eyes searching the bloody floor as if it would tell him how to make it through this. At last he looked up at his women. "I cannot make it." He said with a note of finality.

"I'm afraid the Teyrn is correct."

All three Couslands looked up as the Grey Warden walked into the larder, sheathing his sword in its scabbard on his back as he approached.

"Howe's men have not yet discovered this exit but they surround the castle. Getting past will be difficult." He kneeled down with them.

Eleanor stared at him. "You are… Duncan, then?" She asked hesitatingly. "The Grey Warden?"

"Yes, your Ladyship. I tried to reach you sooner…"

"My daughter helped me get here." Eleanor looked to Briar who was simply staring down at her father, watching him die. "Maker be praised."

Duncan glanced at Briar, who had honestly been his first choice for recruit after both seeing her and then hearing of her. "I am not surprised."

She still didn't look at him. "Thank you for saving my father." She said, hoarsely.

"I fear your thanks are premature." Duncan sighed heavily, looking back down at the Teyrn. "I doubt I have saved him."

They all fell silent as the sounds of the fighting drew nearer.

"Whatever is to be done now it must be done quick. They're coming." Eleanor said urgently.

Bryce finally spoke up, coming out of his fog long enough to look at Briar and then to the Grey Warden. "Duncan, I bid you, take my wife and daughter to safety." He pleaded, the last request of a dying man.

"I will your Lordship, but I fear I must ask for something in return." Duncan said gravely.

"Anything!"

"What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world. I came to your castle seeking a recruit. The Darkspawn threat demands that I leave with one."

Briar frowned when her father's barely focusing eyes drifted her way.

"I… I understand…"

When all three adults eyes turned on her, Briar frowned. "What about Ser Gilmore?" She demanded, not believing they were having this conversation now, when her father's life hung in the balance.

"Truthfully," Duncan began, looking as though he knew her thoughts. "you were always my first choice." He looked back to Bryce. "I will take the Teyrna and your daughter to Ostagar, to tell Fergus and the king what happened. Then, your daughter joins the Grey Wardens."

Bryce nodded grimly. "So long as justice comes to Howe… I agree."

Duncan turned his attention to Briar once more. "Then I offer you a place in the Grey Wardens. Fight with us."

Briar shook her head no. "I cannot leave my father."

"You cannot stay here to die." Bryce said quickly. "Pup, for me, fight with the Wardens."

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. "I… I accept your offer then, Duncan."

He nodded curtly, rising to his feet. "We must leave quickly then."

"Bryce, are you…?" Eleanor hesitated. "Sure?"

"Our daughter will not die of Howe's treachery. She will live and make her mark on the world."

As if something had been decided that Briar had missed, Eleanor stared at her daughter. "Darling, go with Duncan. You have a better chance to escape without me."

"Eleanor…" Bryce whispered.

"Hush, Bryce." She smiled lovingly at him, her eyes determined. "I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time. But I won't abandon you."

"Mother…"

"My place is with your father, at his side. In death and beyond."

Bryce let his tears freely flow, cleansing a trail through the blood that specked his face. "I'm so… so sorry it has come to this my love…" He murmured hoarsely, turning his face to press it against her, inhaling deeply one last time.

She hugged him gently. "We've led a good life and done all we could. It's up to our children now."

"Then… go Pup."

Briar met her father's eyes for what would be the last time, the pain that had been threatening to wash over her exploding in her chest; tearing her heart apart and making it hard to breathe through the agony.

"Warn your brother. Know that we love you both."

The fighting had reached the kitchen, just beyond the larder door though Briar wasn't aware of it; tears running down her face, tears she made no apologies for.

"You do us proud."

Duncan had been staring at the door, giving the three what privacy he could but rounded now on Briar. "They've broken through the gates, we must go, now." Gently but firmly he gripped her by her upper arm, pulling her to her feet.

Briar couldn't get her feet to move properly, stumbling along as she looked over her shoulder, seeing her mother watching.

"Goodbye, darling." Eleanor whispered.