Chapter 6
Rebekah sat rigidly on one of the few benches that ran down the length of the dining tent. She was distinctly aware of how close she was to Cullen, her right thigh pressing against his left. She was also aware of the sensation that she did not belong there, among the soldiers. Men and women talked jovially to one another, their faces lit up with smiles and laughter, some of them still wore their armor while others looked more relaxed in a loose tunic and breeches.
"Your stew is getting cold," Cullen observed, helping himself to another spoonful of his own dinner.
"Oh, right," Rebekah muttered to herself, her words lost in the raucous laughter of the men seated at the table behind her. She shook her head in an attempt to bring her awareness back to the present moment and gripped the spoonful of stew gingerly in her hand.
"Commander!" The male voice carried over the considerable length of the tent and Rebekah turned to see a man walking towards them. The man was ordinary looking, save for a distinct tattoo. Four lines ran from the man's lower lip to the bottom of his chin, and another line ran along the bridge of his nose, beginning next to his right eyebrow and hooking around the right nostril.
"Rylen," Cullen replied, greeting the man with a nod.
"We missed you out there today. Too busy for the rest of us now that you're a fancy Commander, eh?" Rylen said jokingly, taking a seat opposite Cullen.
Before Cullen could even open his mouth to respond, Rylen's eyes met Rebekah's and a grin spread across the man's face. "And you've brought a lady to dinner with ye. Trying to keep her to yourself were you?"
Cullen coughed on his mouthful of stew and Rebekah lowered her head in embarrassment, a blush gracing her cheeks.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," Rebekah thought with a tsk. "You're merely joining a colleague for dinner."
Cullen finally stifled the coughs and Rebekah watched as his lips turned up at the corners. "Rylen, may I present the Herald of Andraste." The voice he used was very matter-of-fact, but Rebekah could see the effect that the title had on Rylen.
"Sweet Maker!" Rylen shot off of the bench and his right hand curled into a fist as he brought it to the left side of his chest. "My apologies, Herald," he drawled with a bow.
"Please there's no need...," Rebekah said hurriedly. At the mere mention of her title, she had noticed that the men and women nearest them had begun to turn and look in her direction.
Everyone at Haven had heard of the Herald of Andraste, of course, but most of them did not know what the Herald looked like. Rebekah liked that she could walk amongst the people unrecognized, it made her feel normal.
"As you know, I was asked to provide some basic training for the Herald, she decided to join us for dinner," Cullen continued.
"Of course," Rylen replied with another bow before taking his seat once again. "I didn't mean to offend..."
"It is forgotten," Rebekah told the man, wishing that she could travel back to the moments before this interaction and become the unknown mystery woman that had accompanied the Commander to dinner.
She could feel the eyes on her, but she kept her gaze leveled on her half empty bowl of stew.
An awkward silence fell over them as they quietly ate their stew, and Rebekah was struck again by that feeling of not belonging.
"I shouldn't have come in here," she thought to herself, a weight settling over her.
That feeling of otherness crept over her as she swirled her spoon lazily in her stew, the noises around her fading into white noise as she became lost in thought.
At Kinloch Hold, she had been just like every other mage in the Circle. She always had her nose buried in a book, she made sure to keep out of trouble, and dutifully practiced her magic. She would have been a familiar face to others within the Circle, but overall was forgettable and she liked it that way.
Now, as the Herald of Andraste, she was an anomaly. For all accounts, she shouldn't even be alive, but here she was, sitting at a table full of soldiers and Templars eating stew. She glanced briefly at her hand just to make sure that it wasn't glowing. She didn't want to draw any more attention to herself.
"The training must have gone well, seeing as you're still with us, Herald," Rylen's voice cut through Rebekah's thoughts and she glanced up to see his eyes shining with mirth as he made eye contact with Cullen.
Cullen scoffed and she turned to see that he was smiling slightly.
"Our Commander isn't known for doing things half-arsed. That you're still with us either means you're stronger than you look or he's gone soft," Rylen laughed and Rebekah could see that the people immediately surrounding them had started to laugh too.
"Keep making comments like that and you'll see how soft I've gone during tomorrow's drills," Cullen growled, but Rebekah could tell by his face that he was joking.
Laughter erupted around them and even though Rebekah still felt out-of-place, the weight on her chest seemed to lift ever so slightly.
Rebekah wasn't sure that she had ever seen Cullen like this, his brown eyes dancing with restrained laughter, his lips tilted in a smirk designed to hide his smile. It made him seem younger and gave Rebekah a glimpse of the young Templar who she had once passed in the halls of Kinloch Hold as a girl.
"Then you must be one tough woman," Rylen conceded, making eye-contact with Rebekah.
Rebekah remained silent for a moment, her mind frantically trying to decide whether she should say something or not. "Come on. Say something!"
"Trust me, I'm sitting here by sheer willpower," Rebekah joked quietly and she could see Cullen glance at her out of the corner of her eye.
"Then tomorrow will be one hell of a training session," Rylen replied with a chuckle.
Just like that, the curious gazes left her, and the other soldiers went back to their meal. That feeling of otherness began to slide away, slowly but surely.
Rebekah finished her stew, mostly in silence, just listening to the back-and-forth between the men and women around her. Rylen continued to joke with Cullen, who fell into a familiar banter with his companion. Rylen made efforts to pull Rebekah back into the conversation with jovial questions, to which Rebekah would briefly reply before fading into the background of the conversation.
Soon, people began to filter out of the dining tent. Rylen stretched his arms wide with a yawn and slapped his hands against the table before standing. "Commander, Herald, it's been a pleasure, but my bed roll is calling my name."
Both Rebekah and Cullen nodded and without another word Rylen ambled to the tent flap and disappeared into the night.
"You should probably get some rest too. You've had a long day," Cullen said, turning to face her.
"Yes, right," Rebekah responded and moved to stand. Her legs immediately screamed in agony, the muscles taut. Rebekah gripped the table hard enough to turn her knuckles white and she could hear Cullen chuckling.
"Here, let me help," he said, as he turned on the bench and stood, both legs now free from the table. He reached out a gloved hand and Rebekah accepted it.
He guided her as she swung one leg over the bench, and then the other. When both feet reached the ground, she felt a steadying hand at the small of her back. Her back straightened at the sensation, the touch strange and unfamiliar. He must have felt her tense, because the presence of that hand immediately vanished and his other hand let go of hers.
"Would you like me to walk you back to your room?" He asked and she could see a blush creeping up his neck.
"I'll be fine," Rebekah replied. Suddenly realizing how close they were, she took a conscious step away. "Thank you for dinner. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow, right," Cullen met her eyes for a moment before lowering his gaze to their feet. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she replied before she too walked out into the darkness.
It wasn't long before their newly established training schedule was interrupted by more pressing matters.
Rebekah stood in the Council chamber in her usual spot by the door, Cullen stood across from her on the opposite side of the table, Josephine to his left and Leliana to his right. Cassandra leaned against the table to Rebekah's left, her brow furrowed.
"Still no word from the clerics?" Cassandra asked Leliana, glancing up briefly to see Leliana shaking her head.
"We've received no word from the clerics, nor the Templars or rebel mages," Leliana declared.
Rebekah sighed and could feel her shoulders slumping. She had hoped that by now someone would have decided to put aside their differences and recognize the danger that the breach posed. She couldn't quite understand why everyone was so concerned with their squabbling that they couldn't see the real threat.
"What do we do now?" Rebekah asked the group with concern.
The room grew quiet as everyone pondered the possible ideas.
It was Cassandra who spoke first. "Perhaps instead of waiting for the clerics to come to us, we go to them. We were prepared to travel to Val Royeaux once they responded, certainly we could provide a date for a formal meeting in Val Royeaux and the clerics can decide whether to come or not. We don't have to continue waiting for them to agree."
"Having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea," Josephine mused, seemingly in agreement with Cassandra.
"You can't be serious," Cullen replied with a scoff, turning to look at Josephine incredulously.
"Mother Giselle wasn't wrong. At the moment, the Chantry's biggest strength is that they are united in opinion," Josephine continued, punctuating her point with a jab of her pen.
"Yes, against us," Cullen countered. He reached his hand up to rub it against his neck and started to pace.
"And ignore the danger to the Herald?" Leliana questioned, hands clasped tightly behind her back, eyes narrowed.
"Let's ask her," Josephine replied diplomatically.
As one, all of the council members turned to look at her and Rebekah instantly grew nervous.
Rebekah was silent for a moment, wondering about the possible implications of such a tactic. "Would this even solve any problems?" She finally wondered aloud, gazing into the eyes of each member of the council. "Isn't it possible that this could just be used as more fodder against us?"
"I agree," Cullen said after a beat. "It just adds credence to the idea that we should care what the Chantry says."
"I will go with her," came Cassandra's voice. "Send another missive to the clerics that Mother Giselle provided."
"But why?" Leliana asked, sounding confused, but her tone remained harsh. "This is nothing but a-"
Cassandra didn't wait for her to finish. "What choice do we have, Leliana?" Cassandra asked, her voice growing louder. "Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach." Then she turned to face Cullen. "Use what influence we have to call the clerics together. Once they are ready, we will see this through."
"Very well," Cullen conceded with a sigh.
"We have another matter to discuss," Josephine piped in before they could begin to disperse. "The watchtowers that Horsemaster Dennet requested have been completed. As such, he is able to finally devote himself to the cause. I received a letter this morning asking that we send a few soldiers to assist in transporting the horses. Do we have anyone to spare?" She asked, turning to Cullen.
"Harding is still at the Crossroads?" Cullen asked Leliana, who nodded in confirmation. "Good, I believe Harding and myself will be sufficient."
"I was unaware that the Commander of our forces was expendable," Cassandra replied in a stern voice, clearly in disagreement with this plan of action.
"Captain Rylen can continue training the troops. Harding knows the area and I grew up helping my father breed and train our horses in Honneleath. I think the two of us would be the most capable pair for the job," Cullen explained.
It sounded like a good argument, but part of Rebekah felt that Cullen really just wanted to get out in the field and do something. She had noticed during their training together that he had been growing more restless. Perhaps some time out in the Hinterlands would do him good.
"I don't see why he can't go, Cassandra. We won't be here anyway and he's been training the troops for over a month. They can last a week without him, surely," Rebekah reasoned. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Cullen flashing her a small, grateful smile.
"Sounds reasonable," Josephine agreed.
"Fine," Cassandra growled out. "Anything else?"
"That is all for today," Josephine said.
"Good. We'll have a long journey ahead of us. Leliana send those missives tonight, schedule the meeting for nine days from today. Herald, we'll begin our journey tomorrow. It's about a five day trek on foot to the port in Jader and a two day journey from there to the port in Val Royeaux. That will give the clerics enough time to spread word of our meeting and for us to make it on time."
The journey from Haven to Val Royeaux had felt long to Rebekah at the time, but as they walked the path towards the gates of the opulent city, it felt like the journey had taken no time at all. She hadn't been able to sleep the night before, her stomach in knots and her mind racing. What was she supposed to say to these clerics? What could she say to them to make them see that the Inquisition was not a bunch of heretics? Would they allow her to speak or would they place her in irons and lock her away?
The path was lined with exotic plants, the gates flanked by two large columns with golden lions perched at the top. Rebekah had never seen a city so beautiful and she tried to focus on the experience of entering the city instead of ruminating on what was to come.
"The city still mourns," Cassandra told them solemly as they passed between those golden lions, Solas and Varric trailing behind her. Bells tolled in the distance, lamenting the loss of the Divine.
A man and woman strolled lazily towards them and Rebekah was struck by the silver mask that hid the woman's features.
As they came closer, the woman took one look at them and gasped with shock. She reeled backwards with fear, leaning against the marble wall lining the path as they walked by. Once they were past her, she took off running down the path.
"Just a guess, Seeker, but I think they all know who we are." Varric's voice was dry and laced with boredom.
"Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric," Cassandra replied sarcastically as they finally passed through the open iron gates and into the city.
Large marble statues lined this section of the pathway, each in a varying pose and Rebekah briefly wondered who the statues represented.
"My lady Herald," a voice spoke and Rebekah drew her attention away from the beauty of the city to behold one of Leliana's scouts. The woman kneeled before her.
"Please, there's no need," Rebekah told the woman, rushing forward and gripping her by the elbows and pulling her back into a standing position. Rebekah still could not understand why the people of the Inquisition held her with such reverence and was still dismayed when they felt the need to kneel before her. She found it a little unsettling, but despite her best efforts the people still continued to do it.
The scout looked at Rebekah quizzically for a moment before taking a step away from her.
"You're one of Leliana's people," Cassandra stated knowingly, and the scout nodded. "What have you found?"
"The Chantry mothers await you, but so do a great many Templars," the scout explained to them.
Cassandra seemed taken aback for a moment, unable to mask her surprise. "There are Templars here?"
"People seem to think the Templars will protect them from...from the Inquisition. They're gathering on the other side of the market. I think that's where the Templars intend to meet you," the scout continued.
"Only one thing to do then," Cassandra said, and with that the group continued their walk into the market.
"Maybe if we're lucky, they'll just decide to join us," Varric said to the group, humor creeping into his voice. "Then we won't have to worry about meeting with the mages and we can get that damn Breach closed," with a sigh he looked over and locked eyes with Rebekah. "But, with how things tend to go to shit around you, I'll just hope that we get out of this alive."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Rebekah replied drily, her attention again being pulled to the ever tightening knots in her stomach.
"No problem," he replied with a sardonic wink.
The low murmuring of the people crowded on the other side of the market reached them first. It wasn't long before they spotted the first few people, their faces hidden by golden and silver masks, their clothes made of the finest silks. The crowd stood in a semi-circle around a wooden platform at the base of another gateway and Rebekah could see the distinctive clothing of the Templars and Chantry mothers.
"Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me," one of the mothers called out. Two other mothers flanked her, their heads bowed slightly, their hands clasped behind their backs. Beside her was a dark-skinned Templar, his face and posture tense.
The mother began to walk towards the edge of the platform as she continued to speak to the crowd. "Together we mourn our Divine. Her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery."
Rebekah looked to her left to see Cassandra, whose expression seemed to darken with this interpretation of Divine Justinia. It was then that the mother spotted Rebekah and Cassandra in the crowd and when Rebekah locked eyes with her, the mother's brow furrowed.
"You wonder what will become of her murderer. Well, wonder no more. Behold," she shouted, pointing into the crowd. The people began to turn, all eyes landing on Rebekah. "The so-called Herald of Andraste, claiming to rise where our beloved fell. We say this is a false prophet. No servant beyond anything but her selfish greed!"
Rebekah stood there like a gaping fish. She knew that this would probably happen, had practiced what she would say as they made the journey here, but those words dried up in her throat under the gaze of their eyes. Suddenly, she felt a hard jab in her back and she looked to find Varric motioning with his hands for her to speak.
Rebekah looked back at the people, then up at the mother, and swallowed the lump in her throat. "I never claimed to be a Herald of anything," she began timidly and she could see Varric out of the corner of her eye giving a nod of approval and she began to speak louder. "And I am not here to argue about who's at fault for the death of the Divine. What we need to be focusing on is the real threat, the Breach."
"It's true," Cassandra voice joined hers, and Rebekah sagged with gratitude. "The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late."
"It is already too late," the mother told them swiftly, sweeping her arm to the left side of the platform.
Rebekah could hear the clank of metal armor as the Templars came into view and began climbing the few steps onto the wooden platform.
"The Templars have returned to the Chantry. They will face this Inquisition and the people will be safe once more." The mother looked on as an older gentleman walked past her.
Everything seemed to slow down for Rebekah as she noticed one of the men sidle up behind the mother and ready his arm to strike. Her brows furrowed in confusion and as he struck the mother, Rebekah's cry of surprise mixed with those of the chantry mother.
The crowd gasped in shock.
Rebekah watched as the dark-skinned Templar moved to help the mother, his face laced with concern, and the older man gripped him by the shoulders to stop him. "Still yourself," the man told him, loud enough for the crowd to hear his words. "She is beneath us."
"What is going on?" Rebekah quietly asked herself.
"Lord Seeker, what is the meaning of this?" Cassandra inquired, her tone laced with anger and disgust.
"Her claim to authority is an insult, much like your own," the man replied, sneering down at them.
"Lord Seeker Lucius, it is imperative that we speak with you," Cassandra continued, following the man's movements as he descended from the platform.
"You will not address me," he told her with a scowl.
"Lord Seeker?" Cassandra stopped in her tracks.
"Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste's prophet? You should be ashamed," he spat at her. Rebekah bristled at his tone and moved to stand beside Cassandra.
"You should all be ashamed," he continued, looking behind them at the still gathered crowd. "The Tempalrs failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages. You are the ones who failed," he said, pointing directly at Cassandra. "You, who leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear. If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here that demands respect is mine," he sneered.
"We haven't leashed any Templars," Rebekah responded with confusion. She knew just from listening to this man that he would not help them and quite frankly she didn't want his help. However, she could benefit if the Templars beside him decided to join the Inquisition instead.
She caught the eye of the man who had moved to help the fallen mother and spoke to the Templars who accompanied the Lord Seeker. "What we need is an alliance that will seal the Breach. I've offered clemency to any Templar who agreed to fight for our cause and our Commander was once one of you. We have no quarrel with the Templars. Please, join us and help us stop this madness."
"A former Templar with a spotty reputation and fearful boys running from duty," Lucius replied with disdain, but her words did appear to reach some of the men behind him.
"Lord Seeker," the dark-skinned Templar stepped forward. "What if she really was sent by the Maker? What if-"
"You're called to a higher purpose," the man who hit the mother told him. "Do not question."
"I will make the Templar order a power that stands alone against the void," Lucius began, walking towards Rebekah and Cassandra. "We deserve recognition, independence. You have shown me nothing. And the Inquisition? Less than nothing."
Rebekah scowled at the man, her hands gripped tightly into fists.
"Templars, Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! We march!"
Just like that, the confrontation was over.
The Templars turned and marched out of the city.
"Charming fellow, isn't he?" Varric said to Rebekah and Cassandra as he walked past the retreating men.
"Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone mad?" Cassandra replied, her voice still betraying her shock and confusion.
"It seems that this has limited our options. If this is how the Templar order is determined to act, then perhaps it best to focus our efforts on recruiting the mages," Solas chimed in.
Rebekah was inclined to agree, but it was not her decision to make alone.
"We need to return to Haven, inform the others," Rebekah told the group already dreading the journey back.
"I'll head to the docks and secure transport back. Perhaps you could get us a few rooms for the night at an inn? We can start our journey back in the morning," Cassandra passed over a small leather pouch that jingled softly before setting off through the market, back the way they had come.
"Well, that didn't go nearly as bad as it could have," Varric said to the group and Rebekah sighed.
"I suppose you're right," she agreed softly. "Hopefully the mages will be more receptive."
"You go ahead and hope that all you like, I'll just hope that we all don't die while we wait for them to stop bickering," Varric replied, attempting to inject some humor into the statement, but in the end he just sounded tired.
"Let's go find this inn," Rebekah said and with murmurings of agreement, they made their way through the market and further into the city.