Guillaume glanced down at Anders, a faint smile creasing his face. "Oui," he agreed, then returned his attention to the people encircling his bubble of energy. It was a very strong bubble – their voices were only barely audible through it, though judging by Fenris' expression the warrior was of a mind to attempt hewing through it with his sword. Zevran was trying to calm him down, and the guards had spread out, encircling the bubble as best they could and waiting developments. "Antony?" the big templar asked in an anxious tone of voice.

The younger templar groaned and sat upright. He looked around at the looming guards and the two elves, then sighed and crossed his legs, and looked at Anders. "So. Friends of yours?" he asked calmly.

Anders snorted. "Yes," he said shortly. "Give up – you're not taking me any further."

One corner of Antony's mouth lifted slightly, and he shrugged. "If you can talk your friends into not killing us out of hand – Guillaume and I actually have no real interest in your capture. It was Reynard we were interested in."

"I'd be more inclined to believe you if I wasn't all tied up," Anders pointed out dryly.

Antony pulled out a belt knife – which action startled an enraged shout from Fenris loud enough to be heard clearly even through the bubble – and sliced apart the cords binding Anders' wrists and ankles, then helped him to sit up. Anders looked back and forth between the two men. "Are you really templars?" he asked suspiciously. "Or is this some kind of ruse? Are you a mage as well?"

Antony smiled crookedly. "Yes, we are really templars. The only ruse here is not directed at you. And no, I am not a mage. But explanations of all this will take time; perhaps you can convince your friends that we are no danger to you or them, and we can allow Guillaume to drop his shield?"

Anders nodded. "Help me to my feet," he said. Antony did so, though given the limited amount of space within the bubble stayed down on his knees himself. Anders hissed at the ache in his wounded leg, and leaned on Antony's shoulder. He looked uneasily at Guillaume's drawn sword. "Think you can put that thing away?" he asked. "They're more likely to believe you two are surrendering if you're not armed."

Antony said something in Orlesian to Guillaume. The big man nodded, and reversed the sword, resting the tip on the ground, his hands wrapped loosely around the hilt and crossguard. He dropped to one knee; not an entirely defenceless position, but not one from which he could easily attack, either. Antony nodded approval, resting his hand on the larger man's shoulder. Guillaume drew a deep breath, then the bubble's shimmer vanished.

Zevran watched interestedly as the younger of the templars within the shielding bubble of energy freed Anders. The two talked briefly, then he helped the mage to his feet, and the larger templar reversed his weapon and went to one knee.

"I do believe they're surrendering," Zevran observed, moments before the shimmering shield around the three of them dissipated. Fenris scowled, hand tightening on his sword, and he took a half-step forward. "Are you all right, Anders?" he asked sharply.

Anders nodded. "Well enough. Slightly punctured but nothing I can't fix once I have energy again."

Zevran looked at the two templars curiously. "Am I right in assuming you have agreed to allow these two to live?" he asked.

"Yes," Anders said, and glanced at the two warily. "We have some talking to do before they can go on their way, however."

Zevran nodded. "Well. Why don't we continue on to where the horses and all our supplies are, before beginning? Not as pleasant a spot as this, I'm afraid, the decor seeming to run more to scorched earth and bodies than greenery and bird song."

Anders snorted, and limped forward. "I believe I recognize the spot from your description," he said dryly, then looked up the road anxiously. "There was a closed box there..."

"With a live man in it. Yes, we found it. He was still living when we left in search of you; we left several of the guardsmen there to guard things and look after him."

Anders sighed in relief. "Good. The poor bastard," he added, then turned to look at the two templars. "I assume Bridie is dead?" he asked them.

Antony nodded once. "Yes. There was no choice," he said softly. "Not after she gave in to her demon."

Anders frowned, and turned to stare at Reynard's cooling corpse. "He drove her to it," he said bitterly.

Antony nodded again. "That he did. May Guillaume and I stand up now?" he asked.

"Yes, go ahead," Anders said, flapping one hand dismissively at them while he stood and frowned down at Reynard's body.

The two rose to their feet, Guillaume sheathing his sword once he was upright and had room to move.

"Before we leave, may I retrieve some articles from the Seeker?" Antony asked anxiously.

Anders turned and looked questioningly at the templar. "What sort of articles?" he asked suspiciously.

"Papers... some of which may be of use to yourself or Prince Vael, and some of which are vital to the mission Guillaume and I are on."

"I think I'd want to know what this mission is, and see the papers, before I let you take anything," Anders said firmly. "I have little reason to trust in the good intentions of templars."

Zevran's eyebrows rose. "Allow me," he said gravely, and stepped over to the Seeker's body, crouching down and riffling through his belt pouches – carefully, since one never knew what lethal surprises a man might have tucked away, as any Crow knew all too well. He found enough things that warranted further investigation in it that he unbuckled and removed the entire belt to bring back to camp with them, slinging it over his shoulder before turning and looking questioningly at the two templars. "Was he the sort of man that he might have hidden documents within his armour?"

Antony shook his head. "I do not believe so."

Zevran nodded. "Very well. We should return to camp then. We can deal with the bodies and whatever else may be on them later."

They set out, Anders and the two elves walking at the front, Zevran and Fenris taking it in turn to support the injured mage so he could keep most of his weight off of his leg. The pair of templars followed a short distance behind, surrounded by the guardsmen. It took them almost an hour to get back to the clearing, as Anders needed to stop and rest several times. He was sweating and muttering curses from the pain by the time they reached the clearing.

All the bodies had been cleared away in the hours they'd been gone, Zevran was pleased to notice, a row of fresh graves at one end of the clearing and a neatly arranged campsite at the other proving that the guardsmen they'd left behind had been diligent workers. He helped Anders to take a seat near the small fire, then unwrapped his wound, not liking how pale the mage was looking.

The flesh around the wound was swollen and reddened; infection was already setting in. "Do you have the energy to heal it?" Zevran asked.

"Not yet – not enough," Anders said. "Damn that Seeker... I was about to heal it when the bastard drained me."

Zevran nodded. "Well... should we do for it what we can with regular medicine, or is it better to wait until you have the energy to do a full healing?"

Anders pressed his lips together and frowned down at the angry wound. "Better clean it out as best we can for now," he judged after some thought. "I don't like how fast that's progressing; cleaning it should at least slow down the spread."

Zevran nodded, and soon had water heating, and clean bandages and an elfroot poultice dug out from one of their packs. Fenris, meanwhile, assigned several guards to watch over the two templars, and a pair of the guards to ride back with extra horses and retrieve the bodies of the Seeker and the other templar.

It was clear that any questioning of the remaining templars would have to wait until after they'd cared for Anders.