The Keening Blade
Chapter 18: The Cat's Meow
Without Morrigan's shape-shifting talents, it would have taken much longer to find the source of the Blight.
She, however, could skim over the landscape, winged and feathered, soaring above the inhospitable landscape of marshes and rugged hills. They followed her, heading southeast, as she swung out in widening probes to see Where It All Began.
Their mule had accepted the additional load of Cailan's armor, Maric's sword, and the odds and ends of treasure from Ostagar with resigned contempt. Loghain had named the beast Meghren. At that, it was a bit unfair to the beast, who was worth a hundred of that Orlesian usurper that Maric had killed.
On the second day, their journey took them to the ruins of the old Grey Warden outpost. They were well prepared for the handful of darkspawn huddled there, and after dispatching them, wandered the rubble.
"Not much to look at," Anders observed.
"It has a nice staircase," Maude said. "but not much else."
Loghain disagreed. "There's a lot of usable building stone here." In his mind's eye, he imagined it already. ""With properly skilled masons, it might be possible to cannibalize the old tower, and make a newer, smaller fort. Not something to do right away, of course, but later perhaps…"
On the third day, they found the great wound in the earth that had birthed the horde, and then the Archdemon. It was not a cave, or a tunnel, but a huge gaping hole, slanting down steeply to allow access to the world above. Ranger sniffed at it, and growled.
"You're right," Maude said, a little daunted at the size of the abyss before them. "We knew it had to be big. Even with its wings folded back, the Archdemon needed huge passages to squeeze through."
Morrigan grimaced, peering over the edge. "I sense that there is a great deal of…activity down below. I presume the point of this expedition is to seal this exit. That might prove difficult."
"Sealing this?" Loghain snorted. "Yes. I think we must go down, and see if there is a narrower passage that can be collapsed."
Maude had already dismounted, and was tying her horse to some scrub. "All right then! We go in, and knock the house down!"
She went down on one knee, and looked Ranger in the eyes, giving him a good ear-scratching. "Listen!" she said firmly. "We going to be scrambling over nasty sharp rocks and making loud, banging noises. You'd hate it. I really need you to stay here and guard the horses—and Meghren, too, though he seems able to take care of himself. Speaking of whom…"
There were shock bombs in one of the packs loaded on the mule. She opened the pack. and pulled out the carefully-stowed bag. Then she grinned at Loghain. "I do love blowing things up!"
There were darkspawn to fight, but they did not have to go more than a hundred yards to find a place where the cavern roof dipped a bit lower. Huge boulders protruded from the ceiling, and they decided that a few judicious fireballs might bring it all down.
Morrigan used an earthshaking spell to loosen the rock. Loghain glanced about warily, not liking the idea of being buried along with the darkspawn. The cavern rumbled, and far away he could sense masses of darkspawn, swarming angrily, their nests disturbed.
Maude and Loghain piled their shockbombs at what appeared to be a weak point, and then backed away up the cavern. Then Morrigan and Anders unleashed their magic.
It took some time, and made them rather tired. Part of the roof further down collapsed after the third try, and after the fifth, the roof above the Wardens began complaining, little showers of dust sifting over them haphazardly.
"I really think we should move back," Anders suggested. "A lot."
They backed away, and Morrigan shook the earth once more. Gravel rattled down, and rocks tumbled. Anders gathered himself and hurled another fireball. There was an ominous sense of shifting…
Loghain grabbed Maude's arm and hurried her back up the shaft. The mages paused for a moment and then fled, too. Anders bounded past, a ginger blur of speed, cat legs stretched out nearly parallel to the sleek body.
Morrigan flickered away, strong wings brushing Loghain's helmet. She dipped and soared, and was a black dot in the bright mouth of the shaft within seconds.
Rocks pinged at Loghain's armor, and he ran faster, dodging a boulder. The angry stone complained, with a roar of missiles and debris, and a fog of dust rose as the ground transformed.
Maude had long since taken to her heels, and Loghain was not three steps behind her. They burst out into the light, still running, just ahead of the eager grip of the earth. Morrigan had taken refuge at the top of a nearby tree, but Anders waited for them just at the lip of the chasm, one paw outstretched anxiously. Ranger barked frantically, darting back and forth. Behind them the ground slumped inward with a thundering sigh.
"I'm fine, Ranger," Maude assured the dog with a pat. "And-oh, Mister Wiggums!" she laughed at Anders. "Mission accomplished! That was rather fun, I thought. Of course, if the darkspawn wanted to, they could dig right up through that dirt in a few months."
"Without an Archdemon to lead them, they're unlikely to want to," Loghain shrugged, as much to reassure himself as the others. They really would have to bring some dwarven craftsmen here to seal the shaft properly, but at least darkspawn could not idly wander up to the surface any longer.
Anders stretched back into his proper shape. "Mister Wiggums indeed! I knew I shouldn't have told you about him!"
"Well," Maude pointed out, airily dismissing his complaint, "you need to have some sort of name when you're in cat form, especially when you're on a secret mission, and we don't want to let on that you're not always a cat! If you don't want to memorialize dear old Mister Wiggums, you'll have to think of a better name."
Morrigan appeared at their side, a few feathers drifting down. "The possibilities are endless," she smirked.
Anders groaned.
"Let's not hurry back to Denerim right away," Maude suggested idly, leaning back on her elbows to admire the campfire. "There are more interesting things to do in the south first."
Loghain regarded her suspiciously. This sounded like the prelude to some harebrained scheme of hers. A whine to his left distracted him, and he gave Ranger the tidbit he was begging for.
"What things, may I ask?" Morrigan queried. The witch—no, he must stop calling her that name in his head—was rightly wary when Maude starting talking in that way she had.
Maude flashed a smile, and bounced to her feet. "Let me show you something."
She came back with a short cylinder of incised metal, and a map of southern Ferelden. She twirled the cylinder between her fingers, spinning it in bright arcs, and then tossed it and caught it a few times.
"Do you know what this is?"
Loghain grunted, "Your accessory for a new exotic dance, perhaps?"
Morrigan laughed, and Anders, on watch at the camp's periphery called, "An exotic dance? Don't start without me!"
Maude was still smiling, playing with the artifact. The strange markings were clearly runes, and they were inlaid with…lyrium?
"This," Maude declared proudly, "is a Golem Control Rod."
"Oh," Morrigan dismissed her. "'Tis that useless object you bought from a shifty trader west of Lake Calenhad. How you could encourage him was a mystery to me. You certainly put paid to that cheat who was peddling spurious magic books."
"That cheat attacked us!" Maude countered. "Poor old Felix de Grosbois was just looking for a break. This didn't cost much, but it might be one of the best investments I ever made! Wouldn't you like to have our own personal golem?"
She unfolded the map and showed them a village that Loghain had previously noted was one of which he had never heard.
"Honnleath," she pointed. "That's where the golem is supposed to be. All we have to do is go straight west, and we're there. We'll never have a better chance. Otherwise it's terribly out of the way."
"It is terribly out of the way," Loghain grunted. "It will take us at least two days to get there." Still, he hesitated. During the rebellion, a mage named Wilhelm had served Maric's troops very loyally. Wilhelm had owned a golem that had been formidable in battle. Yes, a golem was a powerful tool...
There was still something that concerned him.
"We don't want to be caught in bad weather, and then snowed in. That can happen fast, down here in the south. We don't know that this village hasn't been destroyed—or even if it really exists."
"Well," Maude insisted, "let's go see. If it doesn't, then we go on home. If it does, then Anora has another town to add to the tax rolls, and we might get a free golem. Think of all it could carry!"
West of Ostagar, there were few signs of human habitation. A single ruined Chasind village, annihilated by the darkspawn, was all they encountered on their way. They put the place to the torch and moved on. Further west, they saw very little Taint in the countryside, which was something of a relief. There was the usual dearth of game, and fewer birds than ought to be dwelling in the hills and marshes, but their evening camp was quiet, and Loghain did not even dream of darkspawn.
Late the second day, they saw a tall windmill in the distance. Loghain studied the map. That certainly was where this Honnleath place was said to be. A rudimentary road—more a grassy path—was revealed as they traversed the hills.
"That's not good," Anders muttered.
Blight. The signs were recent and scattered, but the darkspawn had come through here not long ago.
Maude kicked her horse into a trot, "Let's pick up the pace a little, shall we?"
People were living here—or had. They passed a burnt farmhouse, the former owners hanging from the charred beams. Beyond a low hill, smoke rose in an ominous cloud.
"These people have been dead for less than a day," Anders said, glancing over the pitiful dead. "And—"
"I feel them," Loghain nodded. "over there…"
Honnleath had a wall, but no gate in the gateway. There was no time to try to understand something so odd, so contrary to all reason and good sense. More bodies hung from the crossbeam over the path.
And then a handful of terrified people, in full scream, came running at them from the village.
"Darkspawn!" one fellow bawled at them, legs pumping. "Darkspawn! Run for your lives!"
Maude laughed out loud, and spurred her horse past them.
Anders was right behind her, He saw the bandy-legged genlocks coming, threw a powerful bolt of lightning at them, and promptly fell off his horse.
"Then come along on foot!" Loghain shouted at him, galloping on. He nocked an arrow and shot the first of the genlocks. It went down squealing, clutching a newly-feathered face. Smoothly, Loghain drew another arrow from his quiver, and loosed it with a twang.
Maude's horse screamed in alarm, but stayed the course as the girl leaned out of the saddle and swept the head from another genlock. She raced on, up a shallow hill into the heart of the village.
The darkspawn could not have been here long. Two or three houses were sullenly burning, the damp weather making that a slow business, and a few human bodies were sprawled in death in the little village square.
The darkspawn were not more than a dozen, now: Morrigan immediately targeted their spellcaster, and Anders immobilized their leader, a big Hurlock with horned helmet. Ranger charged the creature, knocking it down and ripping out its throat. The Wardens swept through the village with sword and spell, The horses squealed, outraged, and the mule, loosed from his lead, kicked out with lethal force.
Another darkspawn shattered into red oblivion, and Maude rode through it, spattered with gore. Loghain finished off the spellcaster, and then they looked about at their surroundings.
"We'll need to search the village," he said, "Come on."
It was hard to move onto that, of course, as Maude was staring at a large and stony object decorating the little village commons. Ranger yipped and bounded ahead.
"That's not a statue: that's my golem!" she shouted, lithely swinging her leg over her horse's head and jumping to the ground. "Oh, all right, Loghain! But just as soon as we clear out the town, I'm claiming it! Come on back, Ranger! No-don't piss on it! It's mine!"
They rounded up their uneasy horses and tied them to the rail fence by the commons. Using all their Warden powers, they walked about, trying sense the location of any other darkspawn.
"There." Maude pointed to a shattered door near the remains of the one large structure in the village: a tall stone tower, now partly collapsed. "I don't feel anything else, but there are some in there."
Loghain nodded, his blood telling him the same story. They moved in cautiously, and discovered that the door led to stairs, and the stairs to a deep and extensive cellar, well-made of finished stone and brick.
"These cellars must run under the entire village!" Maude remarked. "I've never seen anything like this since we left Denerim!"
They killed a party of darkspawn, and sensed more ahead. The cellars were fascinating: filled with huge tuns of excellent ale, a supply of foodstuffs that could feed a company of Warden for a year, books and furniture, and even an array of strange plants, like an underground garden. Morrigan moved in to study them, identifying them as rare fungi, very useful in potion-making.
Glowing crystals lit their way, as well as some of the phosphorescent lichen used by the dwarves. Maude brushed her hand against a damp wall and admired the way the lichen made her own gauntlet glow with an eerie blue light.
"Whoever constructed this place had mages to assist him," Anders concluded. "And smart mages at that, who knew something of dwarven inventions."
"You know," Maude said to herself, "I don't recall seeing a Chantry up there in the village…"
Her thoughts were interrupted by darkspawn racket. They emerged up a short flight to a large, dimly lit room full of the creatures.
The darkspawn, in their turn, were surprised by the appearance of the Wardens, since they were intent on something at the other end of the room—something that appeared to be a glowing wall. Thus it was not difficult to fall upon them and slaughter the lot. Morrigan froze the sole spellcaster and drained his life, while the rest of the creatures fell to Loghain and Maude's swords, and to Ranger's teeth and claws. Anders knocked one of the big hurlocks down, but in a distracted way, looking down the room in excited interest.
"Look at that!" he shouted. "It's a wall ward! I told you there were mages here!"
A terrified little crowd of people huddled behind the shining barrier: four men and two women. They stared at the Wardens in desperate, disbelieving hope.
The last of the darkspawn were finished off, and Maude paused, "listening" hard.
"I think we're done. I really think so. We got them. There might be a few more wandering in the hills, but the village is clean now."
Loghain felt the same, and was already moving on to the strange, transparent barrier, frowning. This was certainly mage's work, but he had never seen the like. A clever invention: the darkspawn had not succeeded in breaching it.
A tall, youngish man called out, "Did the Bann send you?"
Maude shook her head, "We're Grey Wardens."
"Grey Wardens!" cried a young woman. "Thank the Maker!"
Loghain considered the original question. "Which Bann would that be, anyway?"
"Bann Ulferth of Powys," the man said. "We sent one of our men to him, when we realized that the darkspawn were coming. Do you know if he got through?"
"Bann Ulferth has been dead for nearly two years," Loghain told him, not wanting to go into why he knew the man was dead. Powys was a remote and impoverished bannorn south of Redcliffe, but the bann had shown up to serve his king, along with his little band of men-at-arms. They had stood with Cailan, and died with him. A few refugees had brought word that Powys had been overrun and destroyed. "Powys is gone," he told them, a bit reluctantly.
"It is a Blight!" wailed one of the men. "I knew it! Didn't I say so?"
The tall man, blond and straight, put out his hand, and the barrier vanished. He looked grieved and distracted. Maude hastened to comfort him.
"The Blight's over! There are a few wandering bands of darkspawn left, but the Archdemon is dead."
There were cries of relief from the people—all but from the tall blond man, who looked at them pleadingly.
"My little girl is missing," he told Maude, perhaps because he thought that her young and pretty face looked kind. "We ran down here and got behind the ward, but Amalia panicked and ran further down into the cellars below. They're not safe. Paulus followed her, and something killed him. We saw it. Could you go after her? You look," he glanced uneasily at Loghain. "pretty tough."
"We are," Maude told him blithely. "The toughest you're likely to meet. All right, we'll go down and look for her."
Morrigan being Morrigan, the witch pointed out, "If one of your men died, 'tis likely the child was slain too. However, if you wish us to waste out time—"
"We'll go," Loghain interrupted harshly, because he was thinking exactly the same thing. "But we have a lot of questions when we get back."
"But we've got to get out of here!" another man burst out.
"Don't do that!" Maude said, very persuasively. "Now that we've killed all the darkspawn in town, you're much safer here than wandering around the countryside, especially with the weather about to turn. We got them all, so you might want to start putting your village to rights. Meanwhile," she gestured to her companions, "we'll go look for little Amalia."
"You're a mage," Anders said to the man. "Are all of you mages?"
"Questions later," insisted Loghain, with a commanding gesture.
Past a door and a short tunnel they found the dead man.
"Killed by a demon, from the look of him," said Morrigan. "Let us be wary."
A little further down into the cellars, they came to a well-appointed study. The handsome desk and fine bookcases looked somewhat out of place in the crude stone and earth surroundings, but this room, too, was lit with crystals and lichen.
And inhabited by minor demons. They were nothing compared to the beings they had dispelled at Soldier's Peak. Once vanquished, Loghain poked about the room a little, and a journal on the dusty desk told him who had lived here. It was someone he had once known well.
"Wilhelm!" Loghain grunted. "This is where he went when Maric released him from service. He was made free of the Circle, and none of us ever saw him again."
"King Maric's mage?" Maude said, her examination of the room interrupted. "That's very interesting. He doesn't seem to be here any more."
"No, he doesn't…"
"A lot of good books. And no Chantry, either," Anders murmured to Morrigan. "There's a lot to like about the village of Honnleath, especially now that the darkspawn are gone."
The little girl was alive.
She was quite a nice little girl: her long brown hair braided neatly, her little pinafore and sash neat and clean. She seemed quite unaware of any danger, for she was playing happily with a cat. The room reeked with an aura of sinister magic, and a pattern of curious tiles adorned the floor.
Ranger nosed past Loghain, and growled softly.
"You're right. That is not a real cat," Anders whispered, as they watched the scene from the doorway. "In my capacity as a part-time Mister Wiggums, I can tell you with complete authority that that is not a proper cat."
"Another shape-shifter?" Loghain asked, very quietly.
"No," Morrigan answered slowly. "'Tis something powerful…and unpleasant. The child is in mortal peril."
The little girl looked up. "Oh, look! Someone else has come to play. Kitty can't leave the room until someone solves the puzzle, but it's too hard for me!"
"Amalia," Loghain said sternly, "your father is looking for you."
"My father?" The little girl gazed at them in confusion, a little intimidated by Loghain. "But I'm having fun here. Kitty is so pretty and perfect."
Anders tried coaxing the girl. "That's not really a cat, you know. You really should step away…"
An amused, huskily feminine voice issued from the cat. "Nothing you say will persuade her. Amalia is mine! Free me from my prison, mortals, and I shall grant your every desire."
Morrigan and Anders rolled their eyes at each other, "A demon," they proclaimed, in unison.
"Fine," Maude agreed instantly, with a blindingly sweet smile. "I'll solve the puzzle, you keep the girl, we get our desires fulfilled. Sounds good to me!"
Anders twitched, but Morrigan held him still. Loghain grimaced. Maude was up to her tricks again.
"Oh, this is so exciting," Amalia piped. "Kitty is going to be free!"
"A puzzle…" Maude considered, with a show of delight. "I love solving puzzles, and I'm frightfully good at them!"
Perhaps it was not entirely a show, Loghain admitted to himself. His young wife strolled past the little girl, with a quick pat on the child's head. Maude walked among the tiles, studying the layout, smiling to herself.
Then she started darting back and forth, moving the tiles in all directions. A trickle of flame followed her, traveling in an arcane course from one end of the room to the other. It was all a mystery to Loghain, who hated puzzles and hated the idea of expending a second's thought on anything resembling that kind of rubbish. He watched the little girl, ready for a sign that she was being attacked.
Gradually, they began to see a pattern emerging. Maude glanced up at Loghain, very pleased with herself. "Now what will be my desire be…?" She gave him a wink.
Ranger did not move, and crouched low, his fierce stare never wavering from the purple-eyed cat. Morrigan and Anders stood waiting, wands discreetly at the ready.
At the end of the tiles, Maude quickly moved a last one, and then jumped away from a triumphant blaze.
"At last!" the cat purred. "Something wonderful is happening, Amalia, for both of us!"
The little girl screamed, wracked with pain. "Kitty! No! What are you doing? I won't let you in me!"
"Of course you won't," Maude agreed. She said to Kitty. "I said I'd free you, but I never said I'd let you live. I always kill demons, myself, but that's just me."
"Betrayal!" The cat shape stretched and distorted. The ginger fur smoothed into sleek purple flesh, and the Desire Demon was revealed.
"The child is mine!"
"Amalia!" Loghain shouted at the little girl. "Get behind us and stay with the dog! Ranger! Protect her!"
Fiery demon thralls rose from the flaming puzzle, and floated toward the Wardens. The Desire demon shot a curse at them, and Loghain side-stepped it. The battle was joined. Understanding his role perfectly, Ranger butted against the startled child, backing her into a corner, and then turned to snarl at anything that might come his way.
Loghain focused his attention to the demon, slamming her with his shield to interrupt her spells. Frost and lightning sparkled gold and red in the firelight. The demon thralls were defeated, and with the Desire Demon outnumbered four to one, she went down, moaning. Loghain grimaced as she dissipated. Maude was right: the first Desire Demon one saw was rather arousing; further exposure to them caused him to see them as tawdry and repulsive.
The battle was over, and they retrieved the crying little girl from her corner.
"You did exactly the right thing, Amalia!" Maude assured the child cheerfully. "You told that demon to go away!" She peered at the remains, and slipped something shining into the small bag at her waist. "Very nice!
Amalia seemed to like Anders, perhaps because he resembled her father, and she was persuaded to take his hand and go back with them to find her father. Morrigan calmed the magical fires, and the room fell into darkness.
"There are no other exits from this room," she said, as they left. "I suggest we lock this door. The Veil there is thin, and 'twould be unwise for any future visitors to offer themselves as bait."
That was done, and they discovered that there were yet a few more demon thralls to fight clear of. Amalia shrieked piercingly, but Anders held tight to the small hand. The mist cleared, and they emerged back into old Wilhelm's study, where they shut and locked the doors to the lower cellars.
"This is my Grandfather's book room," the little girl told them. "He did 'speraments here. He died before I was born."
"Wilhelm?" Loghain asked her. "The mage Wilhelm was your grandfather?"
She nodded, still shy of Loghain.
"Interesting," Anders said to Morrigan. "He came here and lived a normal life. Or abnormal for a mage. That man who spoke to us was his son, then. Wouldn't the Chantry's collective head explode at the idea of this place? Mages getting married and raising families! Who would have thought it?"
"I can do magic," the little girl told him, very softly. "My daddy teaches me."
"I'm sure you can," Anders told her, beaming.
"Most certainly," Morrigan agreed, with a sardonic snort. "'Twas why the demon found you so attractive! You know, Amalia, if you like cats, you should ask Anders here to turn into one."
Amalia stopped and stared up at Anders, "You can turn into a cat! Are you a good kitty, or a bad kitty?"
"He's a very, very good cat," Maude assured her. "Positively righteous! And when he's a cat, his name is Mister Wiggums!"
Amalia giggled, and confessed she might like to see Anders turn into Mister Wiggums when she was feeling a little braver, but not yet. Her father—whose name, they learned, was Matthias—wept with gratitude when they returned his daughter to him.
The little girl ran to him, crying, "I'm sorry, Daddy! I was scared."
He gathered her up in his arms, hushing her, "That's all right, butterfly. You're safe. That's all that matters."
The survivors, trembling with shock, were huddled outside. One was on the ground, his head bleeding.
"Freder tried to take one of the horses, and the mule attacked him," they were told.
"Oh, well done, Meghren," Maude praised the mule. The creature rolled its eyes her way, and its mouth stretched into an impressive sneer. Maude shrugged. "Well, it was."
The houses were searched. One family had successfully hidden in their own small root cellar. Another had taken refuge in their loft. Three children had been orphaned: a pair of terrified boys found in the attic where their parents had concealed them, and a toddler, asleep in a cupboard.
Matthias' sister was one of the women who had sheltered with him behind the magical barrier. She was crying over a man lying dead in the square.
"My brother-in-law, Olaf," Matthias told him, and led Amalia away to be with the grieving woman.
"Well," Maude said, "We can help them clean up the mess, but first…"
She ran up to the stony figure in the center of the commons, and pulled out the glittering control rod. Waving it at the frozen golem, she intoned, "Dulef gar!"
Nothing happened. Maude scowled at the rod, the golem, and her amused companions.
"Dulef gar, you son of a bitch!"
The golem did not move.
"Most unfortunate!" Morrigan smirked. "It appears that Felix de Grosbois has sold you a defective device."
Maude snarled, "I'll skin him, the rotten cheat!"'
"Maude…" Loghain groaned.
Anders said soothingly, "Don't skin him, Maude. That sounds…messy. Maybe the golem is worn out. Maybe it's broken due to lack of regular maintenance. Maybe it was broken to begin with, and that's why someone sold the control rod to the trader. How much did you pay for it?"
"Too much," sulked Maude. "Even a farthing is too much for something that doesn't work!"
"It doesn't matter," Loghain said impatiently, pulling her away. "It was a fortunate happenstance that led to saving these people's lives. That makes it worthwhile. These people need our help. Now. Come along."
"I suppose…"
The dead were carried outside the village, and were laid out for cremation.
"We'll clean up the darkspawn," Maude offered, bravely trying overcome her crushing disappointment about the golem fiasco. She told the villagers, "You shouldn't touch them."
It was a long and tiresome job, but it was all part of a Grey Warden's duty. The foul creatures were hauled away in a cart pulled by Meghren. Only Loghain could have hitched the ill-tempered mule, but hitch him he did, while the horses were safely bestowed in the village's little stable. It took three trips to carry all the darkspawn well away from the village, and then the mages incinerated the remains and the cart as well.
A quiet funeral was held for the dead villagers. They had lost eight, a heavy blow for the small community.
"Won't you stay?" a woman, more daring than the rest, begged Loghain, as the bodies burned. "We haven't much coin, but you're welcome to all we have. If more of those creatures come, we're as good as dead!"
Anders whispered to Loghain. "Couldn't we stay for a bit? I'd love to find out how to do that wall barrier! Favor for favor, as it were. Besides, these people really do need protection, and it might be nice to rest and resupply here."
Loghain frowned. It was getting late in the year, but the mage's words had merit. These people required help, and another attack was not beyond the realm of possibility.
And while they were talking, Maude was talking to Matthias and his sister, comforting the woman, making promises, and getting quite a bit in return, unsurprisingly.
She trotted over with a smile. "The people who owned the house by the gate were killed. It's empty and ours if we stay. And we get access to all of Wilhelm's books and notes, too!" She made a face. "Matthias says that the golem went all wonky. It killed his father, it seems, and his mother got rid of the control rod. He thinks it's for the best that it doesn't work at all now. Pity."
The little house had the air of a place where the owners would return at any moment. They would not, of course. The young husband and his even younger wife had been cut down from the crossbeam over the gateway where they were hanging, and they had been burned on the common pyre, Nonetheless, the fire on the hearth of the room that served as both kitchen and sitting room was only now burning low. A cloak lay where it had been dropped on the floor. Maude looked about, taking it all in, and had the decency not to crow over their acquisition, especially when her eyes fell on the half-finished cradle in a corner.
She did, however, approve of it. "This is a nice house," she said over her shoulder to Morrigan. "Nicely kept. Bedellia was a good housekeeper." She picked up the forsaken cloak and folded it, smoothing the rough wool gently.
She claimed possession of the little bedroom for herself and Loghain, simply by walking in there and dropping a bag on the bed. Morrigan sniffed and ran upstairs.
"There is a bedroom up here," she announced loudly. "Which is mine. There is a little attic up here, too, where someone else can sleep."
"Oh, thank you so much," Anders muttered.
Loghain only grunted, and loaded his arms with wood from the pile under the staircase. It would be cold tonight, he suspected. He had better build up the fire. Ranger gave a huge stretch, and flopped down by the reawakened flames, panting in approval at Loghain's efforts.
Almost immediately, visitors arrived. The survivors brought food and extra bedding, bottles of wine and rounds of cheese; even a meaty bone for Ranger, who accepted it with lordly aplomb.
When they at last grasped who Loghain actually was, it was as great a thing as if the King himself had come. It was necessary to talk to these people, so Loghain could not retreat into growling embarrassment, and he was a Grey Warden and not a noble any longer, so he could not distance them with a title.
And they wanted to know so much about the outside world. This was a tight little community, self-sufficient and freethinking, but they were still curious. More survivors had come down to the village: the miller and his family had taken refuge up near the sails of the windmill, and the darkspawn had not yet spotted them when the Wardens arrived.
Nearly all the people of Honnleath were mages—though not very strong or well-trained ones—or married to mages or the children or parents of mages. Only a few people outside knew that Honnleath existed, and the residents were anxious that it stay that way.
"You know what would happen if the Chantry heard about Honnleath," Matthias said, dread in his eyes. "That was the reason for the extensive cellars, orginally. Bann Ulferth knew Father from the Rebellion, but he never troubled us."
"Well, they certainly won't hear about you from us," Maude said, her voice vibrating with persuasion. "We don't even talk to the Chantry, because they annoyed me during the Blight and didn't help a bit."
"If you don't mind my saying it," Anders began slowly, "For such a lot of mages, you didn't fight the darkspawn very…" he paused, trying to find a tactful word, "capably. I mean," he hurried on, "the barrier was excellent, and I really want to learn that, but there are lots of ways to fight darkspawn magically, and…"
There was some shuffling. Matthias grimaced. "My father died when I was pretty young, and my mother wasn't magical at all. Father wanted us to live in peace. He helped some of his friends from the Circle escape and join him, and they were Isolationists. After the war, all they wanted was to be somewhere quiet where the Chantry or the Orlesians couldn't bother them. We don't wear robes or carry staves. We're just people here. That's why Father taught me a lot of warding spells—my sister Cloelia knows them too, and so did Olaf. And we know lots of spells for growing things and for household tasks and healing, but battlemagic was something that Father hoped would never be needed again."
"Ha!" Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Utter nonsense!"
Matthias was not offended at her remark, as it was evident that she was absolutely correct.
Another man growled, "If Olaf had done what he was supposed to, we wouldn't have needed it."
Matthias put up his hands, agreeing. He explained to the Wardens. "Olaf thought the daily and nightly warding was a waste of time and energy. We can charm this place so that outsiders can't get into the village, but he didn't see the point anymore. Of course, Father could enchant the place so no one would even notice us. Nobody ever visited us but that trader, years after Father died, and some Chasinds, and they certainly don't care if we use magic. When we needed something from Outside, we send a cart and some people up to Redcliffe or Lothering to trade. We make a point of not keeping up the road. We didn't even know there was a Blight until those darkspawn hit us."
"Wait," Loghain said, "are you saying you can make this village…invisible?"
Matthias made a face. "Theoretically," he allowed. "Of course, Father's notes are mostly in Old Tevinter, and none of us know that language."
"I know it," Anders volunteered.
"And I," Morrigan declared, not to be outdone, and very eager to learn such an enchantment. "We would be…pleased…to help you rediscover your birthright."
Maude nudged Loghain. "That explains the lack of a gate. We need to learn this magic. Think what we could do for the defenses of Soldier's Peak!"
Loghain was thinking of the same thing, that very moment. "And it seems to me that something similar could be done to ward our camps."
Maude and Morrigan exchanged excited looks. To be able to camp with no one on watch would improve everyone's lives immeasurably.
Anders had his mind on something else. He asked Matthias, "Have you ever heard of the Mages' Collective? I'll bet there are mages who would love to live here!"
They talked quite a long time, eating and drinking all the while. Matthias went out to demonstrate how the gate barrier was raised, and Loghain and Maude watched from the doorway of the little cottage, only steps away.
"Aren't you glad you came?" Maude whispered. "We saved heaps of people, and we'll learn an amazing defensive enchantment. Now," she added, with a hint of a pout, "if we had just got a golem out of it, it would have perfect!"
Eventually the visitors trudged on home, and Maude and Loghain could get out of their armor, wash each properly, and enjoy themselves in a smallish but decent bed. Loghain let Maude pounce on him, and allowed her to lick his most exquisitely sensitive places: earlobe and throat and nipple; trailing down his belly to take him in a way no other woman had ever offered. He gave himself up to it, and rapture stretched out into infinity. The calls of nightbirds blended with the wind sighing along the cottage walls, indistinct murmurs from upstairs, and the soft sounds Maude was making.
He stroked her face afterward, relaxed but bent on reciprocation. He cleared his throat, his head still spinning.
"Where in the world did you learn to do that?" he murmured into the darkness.
"At the Arl of Denerim's estate. I was busy that day, but I'm very observant," she murmured, nuzzling against his shoulder. "I learn very quickly. One of the elf maids was doing that for a guard, and he seemed to like it a lot. And besides, I read all about it in The Art of Passionate Love back at home in Highever,except it was all so flowery I didn't exactly understand it at the time, until I saw those two while I was killing everybody else. Then it sort of clicked in my head. Do you ever feel like that?"
"Like something clicks in my head when I'm killing someone? Perhaps. I take it you did not kill those two lovers."
"Of course not. That would have been tacky. They weren't trying to kill me. I generally don't kill people who aren't trying to kill me. They were just having a nice time."
"Where did you get a copy of The Art of Passionate Love?"
"In my father's study. It was in a locked cabinet where anyone could find it, hidden behind the unabridged Sermons of the Divine Scholastica." She nuzzled a little more, and murmured, "You have such a beautiful throat, Loghain. I've always loved it."
He was just about to slip two fingers up inside his favorite silky moist place, when the peace of the night was shattered by a wild scream and a crash.
"Morrigan!" Maude cried. She tried to jump out of bed, but Loghain held her fast. "She's—"
Morrigan's voice rang down from on high. "Oh, yes, Yes, YES!"
"She's…"
"Absolutely fine. Apparently enjoying herself thoroughly. I hope Anders is with her, but perhaps she's simply torturing him. Knowing her, I suppose that's possible."
They listened a moment longer, and it was clear that Morrigan was not alone. Alarmed at the noise, Ranger had awakened, thundered upstairs, and was now barking at the closed door.
"Go AWAY, you wretched mongrel! Anders, do something about that dog at once!"
A door opened, and there was murmuring, whining, and then pleading. Ranger eventually thundered downstairs again and collapsed in front of the fire with an indignant 'whoof!'
The door closed, but they could still hear their upstairs neighbors. "Oh, Anders! Look at the moon! Is it not magnificent?"
"At the moment, all I care about are two moons in a white sky, and magnificent is too weak a word…"
Maude laughed, her breath warm and teasing. "I'm glad we don't say such silly things! Wait… Loghain…what are you doing?…Oh…Oh…What a good idea!"
Note: Thanks to all my readers, and especially to my reviewers: Amhran Comhrac, Eva Galana, Shakespira, Josie Lange, Lehni, Sayle, Zute, mutive, wisecracknmama, Judy, JackOfBladesX, callalili, Prisoner 24601, Hammerchuckery, Enaid Aderyn, mille libri, Piceron, Aoi24, Kcousland, wayfaringpanda, Windchime68, Fay02, Arenaviridae, icey cold, Notnahtanha, and Demonchick344. I can't tell you how much you do to keep me thinking and writing!
Yes, there will be a Shale! Just not quite yet.
My little warrior statues arrived! Arsinoe approves +20! I now have Loghain (with sword and shield) and Duncan (with sword and Joining chalice) watching me from either side of my desk. They're just so fierce and adorable!