The Keening Blade
Chapter 25: An Architectural Disaster
"So this elf…" Loghain waved at the scattered weapons on the hill. "This elf accused you of making off with her sister?"
Nathaniel Howe's posture radiated irritation. "Either our party or some trader caravan. She wasn't too clear about that. Some humans kidnapped her sister, so she's randomly attacking all humans."
Maude was picking through the weapons, frowning. She said, "Sometimes Dalish elves have a problem discriminating among humans. I've seen that before. Maybe we all look alike to them. If she wants to find out what happened to her sister, she's certainly going about it in an idiotic way." She kicked at a cheap sword with her boot. "Anything about this pile of junk seem strange to you? Why would warriors throw away usable weapons?"
"My lord!" One of Howe's men trotted up, wide-eyed. "My lord, we found a survivor of the Longleat militia. He says that his troop was attacked by darkspawn, not by elves!"
The man could not be moved, or not by anyone other than Grey Wardens. When they reached him, he was already dying, which was a mercy, since he was infected by Blight, and well on his way to becoming a ghoul. His mind was wandering, but it was clear that something was stirring up trouble between humans and elves, and that something was the darkspawn.
"The Architect would be clever enough, surely, to come up with such a plan," Morrigan said, "'Tis simple enough…but very effective."
Anders was disappointed that he could do no more for the dying man but ease his suffering. "Those weapons we saw—they were collected by the darkspawn and scattered around to make it look to the elves like humans were attacking them."
Maude was unimpressed. "Only someone with a blind hate of humans would be taken in by it. Did that elf woman say anything about darkspawn?"
Nathaniel thought about it. "She knew there were darkspawn in the woods," he said slowly, "but she didn't seem concerned about them. Possibly she was too obsessed with saving her sister from humans to care about them, other than to escape from them, and that trick she had would serve her well."
"Disappearing into the earth?" Anders grinned. "That's a pretty good one! I've never heard of anyone doing that. It must be Dalish magic."
Morrigan huffed. Maude smiled at her sympathetically. Some of the soldiers' description of the Dalish elf mage dwelt more on the woman's skimpy garments and physical attributes than on her magical skills. Loghain refrained from remarking about other mages he had known, who had also run about in revealing costumes. Morrigan's beauty was distracting enough to weak-minded soldiers, even when she was garbed in her superb armor.
"Let's move on to this mine of yours," Loghain grunted to Howe. "It's time to find some answers."
There was plenty of darkspawn spoor, as they moved farther into the woods. Twice they were set upon by small bands. None of them were led by the intelligent, talking darkspawn, but that any darkspawn were concentrated here suggested that they were on the right track.
"This is interesting," Maude remarked, as they rode down the narrow road, trees leaning close to the pathway. "The Wending Wood is full of all sorts of ancient monuments and relics. It would be fun to explore here sometime, when the darkspawn are gone. There are all sorts of statues, that nobody looks at, and nobody knows about. Maybe we should have a statue garden at Soldier's Peak!"
Loghain was silent, so as not to encourage her. She needed none, anyway, because she was already off and dreaming.
"I do hope we can get the arling cleaned up soon. We need to get back to Denerim for the Landsmeet at the beginning of Cloudreach, and then we've got to get the expedition moving at to Soldier's Peak by the end of that month. I've found a very good groundskeeper, with sound ideas about floribundas and grandifloras."
Loghain quirked a smile, suddenly recalling a memory of Celia and her roses. What was it with women and roses? It was fine with him, so as long as Maude didn't expect him to help her with them. He was no good at all with fidgety flowers. The one time Celia had asked him about one of her rose vines, he had killed it with a touch, much to his wife's disappointment and his daughter's amusement. Anora was convinced that he became a great warrior because he was hopeless as a farmer. Not true at all, of course, but there was no convincing a thirteen-year-old know-it-all of that. Roses were perverse, exasperating plants: not respectable, dependable crops like oats and barley. And then, to make it up to his wife, he had brought a new vine all the way from Denerim to Gwaren for her, and the Maker-cursed thing had managed to win first blood against him, even through his armor.
Taking another glance at the map, he said, "That mine of yours isn't far."
"No," Howe agreed. "Up this hill, and a bit east of the main road."
They soon found the mine's imposing entrance. It was guarded by darkspawn.
At Howe's command, the archers loosed a volley, and then another, dropping all but an ogre and a pair of hurlocks.
"Somebody hold my horse!" Maude yelled. She jumped down and ran at the ogre, whooping, a barking dog on either side.
Morrigan had frozen it from horseback, but she and Anders were also dismounted in short order, and coming up to support Maude. Loghain dismounted with more deliberation, and engaged the hurlocks, leaving Maude free to finish off the ogre in her signature style. It would be a good thing for her to show off in front of Howe. He needed to see just how spectacular a fighter Maude was, if only to keep him from getting ridiculous ideas about ever challenging her to a duel over his worthless father.
The ogre, with a last, pained bellow, toppled in a cloud of dust. Maude leaped lightly from its chest, and gave a little saucy bow to the cheering guardsmen up the hill. There was no sign of more darkspawn, so the Wardens moved to the entrance. The huge doors stood open and unbarred.
It was cave-like—or mine-like— in that there were supports and a flight of steps leading down from the entrance to a big cavern. Loghain breathed in the air cautiously, not sensing any darkspawn close by.
As they were comfortable underground, Sigrun and Oghren joined Maude and Anders in poking about. Down a flight of rickety stairs they found some abandoned scrolls, confirming that dwarves had mined here. The dogs milled about, not liking this place.
"Oh, go chase rabbits!" Maude told them. "We're going to be organizing our party for a bit."
So they gratefully ran outside, chasing each other and begging treats from softhearted soldiers.
Morrigan scowled at them all, and went to gather blood lotus, not willing to go underground until she absolutely must.
Loghain stood at the mine entrance with Howe, discussing which of his men would be going in with them, and who would be guarding their camp. The sliding, crashing noise from below was muffled enough that it did register at first, until a soldier came running up the passage shouting, "Cave-in!"
He was briefly annoyed that they had not brought some of the dwarf stoneworkers from the Vigil, until he descended to the site and found out what had actually happened. It was a disaster.
"They'd gone ahead-just a little way, my lord—and your lady was saying to the mage that the darkspawn had been there and gone, when the roof of the tunnel gave in. It's blocked the tunnel. And the lady and the mage and the dwarf Wardens are on the other side!"
Morrigan rushed at the man, eyes blazing in wrath. "Are they under the rock? Did you hear them call?
"No, Warden!" The man quailed before her. "I don't know! When the rock fall started, it looked like it was just coming from one spot, so perhaps it did not collapse all the way down the tunnel."
Loghain was already pushing men out of his way, running down the steps, the dogs barking after him. Howe was at his heels. Morrigan moved as only mages can move, too fast to be seen, for she was already at the pile of boulders when they arrived.
"I can feel them!" she shouted at Loghain, as if it were all his fault. "I can feel them. They are not dead! Have these fools move the rocks out of the way!"
That was obviously what needed to be done. Some of the men looked nervously at the ceiling, expecting another cave-in, but it all looked sound to Loghain. It raised a possibility that filled him with dread.
"How odd that the roof should collapse just as this choke point in the tunnel," he remarked.
"A trap?" Howe said, his keen grey eyes taking in the idea.
"A trap!" shouted Morrigan. "I shall kill Anders for such strutting recklessness! One expects this kind of folly from Maude, and it always turns out well for her, but not always for those in her company!"
"Is there any other entrance to the mine?" Loghain asked Howe.
"None that I know of," said the younger man, shaking his head.
Loghain wondered uneasily if this mine, like Vigil's Keep, had also been accessed by the darkspawn from the Deep Roads. A connecting passage to the Deep Roads was in fact probable, and would explain why the darkspawn were making use of it as their headquarters. Such a trap inevitably suggested a talking darkspawn—perhaps the Architect himself.
Ranger pawed and whined at the rocks. Loghain ordered the dogs to sit in a corner, out of the way, while the men were organized to clear the rubble. It was going to take some time.
Loghain cursed himself again for not bringing the stoneworkers. The only dwarves in the party were the trader Bodahn Feddic and his half-witted son Sandal. Some soldiers, with implicit trust in the wisdom of dwarves when underground, had run to fetch them. Bodahn looked baffled at first, but surface dwarf as he was, he still understood stone better than any human. And Sandal only beamed.
"Enchantment!" he proclaimed, gazing at the ceiling, just where it had given way.
"The boy's right," agreed Bodahn. "See that? That was made to collapse. There's probably a trigger a bit beyond. Meant to fall once someone had passed it. That's deliberate, all right. Clever, too. I don't think even a dwarf would have spotted it."
Even more distressing, the blood sense of other Wardens was fading. Loghain froze, wondering for a moment if he was feeling Maude dying, and knew there were thoughts simply beyond his endurance. Morrigan snarled, "They are being taken away! They have been captured!"
He was in command, and there were things that he could do. Loghain saw to the organization of the men removing the stones, and considered what was best to do at this point.
"We need expert help," he told Howe brusquely. "Someone must go and fetch Voldrik and his men. That mad brother of Voldrik's, too. We may have to blast some of this stone away."
"I shall go," Morrigan said instantly. "I can reach the castle more quickly than any of you. I cannot wait for one of your yokels to dawdle along. Give me a written order, so that no man can say me nay." She thought a little more. "But let it be small enough to tie to me without hindrance."
Howe stared at her, at first not quite understanding, and then looking awed and a bit intimidated. Loghain immediately had Sandal fetch him parchment and ink, and set to writing. Once out of the cave, Morrigan transformed, and Loghain tied the note to her leg, wincing as she pecked him in her impatience.
"Be off with you, then," he said roughly, "and see to it that no archer brings you down!"
She pecked at him again, and was aloft in a flurry of beating wings. In seconds, she was a tiny dot, vanishing into the northern sky.
"She will be at the Vigil in a little over an hour," Loghain predicted. "For the stoneworkers to reach us, however…"
"They may be here by nightfall," Nathaniel said, with optimism unusual for him. "With lanterns and torches, they can work all night."
"So can we," Loghain agreed, and prepared himself for a very long day.
Morrigan returned in the early afternoon, pale with nervous exhaustion. "They are coming. The Arlessa herself bade them hurry. They have a team of workmen and tools, but can only move as fast as their ridiculous oxen."
Most of the stone was gone, and with a little more work, they would be about to climb through the rock fall. Loghain threw a torch through the opening, and peered into the flickering yellow light.
"It looks like the obstruction is not very deep."
They kept working, moving the stones carefully, laboriously piling them in an alcove near the entrance. Eventually, they had cleared enough for men to get through.
"I'll go first, Warden-Commander," Howe said, "Allow me."
Loghain did not like it, but let Nathaniel have his way. It was a gesture of interest in Maude's well-being, and Loghain felt he ought not to hinder that. A reconciliation would be a good thing for everyone.
Very soon, Nathaniel was back, looking grim.
"Past the rockfall, the tunnel is clear. But there is a turn to the right about twenty feet on, and beyond it are a pair of huge metal doors. They are locked, and appear to be barred as well."
They cleared the rest of the debris, and moved up the tunnel. The doors were just as large and impregnable as Howe had indicated. Morrigan cast spells and curses at them. Fire and ice had little effect, and lightning chipped away tiny shards of rock framing the doors. A concussive spell shattered only a little more. Still, that was something. Morrigan persisted in her spells, and when she needed rest, some of the men used picks to chip further away at the stone.
Hard stone, and harder metal: it was a long and frustrating afternoon. Loghain was on edge, and made himself silent rather than to uselessly snap at people. As the shadows lengthened, the Glavonak brothers arrived, and hope returned to the expedition.
Dworkin's explosives made all the difference. They began blasting almost as soon as they arrived, and when not blasting, the dwarven masons chiseled into the stone supported the metal doors. The doors were nearly impregnable: the stone was not. Loghain forced himself to remain stoically impassive as the hours passed, and Maker only knew what was happening to Maude.
Morrigan was too agitated to remain in human form. She fluttered up into the trees for awhile, impressing the guardsmen and Nathaniel Howe's archers, and then, bored with that, she transformed into a wolf, and led the dogs on a lengthy chase through the Woods.
Maude was not alone, Loghain reminded himself. Anders was there, and Sigrun and Oghren as well. They were all superb fighters. Maude was supremely clever and resourceful.
None of those reflections made him feel the least bit better. He was briefly amused when the dogs began barking and growling loudly at Howe, who had said something about Maude to his second.
"Enough!" Loghain shouted. Morrigan and the dogs trotted back to him. Loghain flashed Howe a grim look of rebuke. After a while, the young man came over to apologize.
"I can't believe Maude won't wriggle out of this," Nathaniel said frankly. "She's been in constant danger for the past two years and she's always come out smelling like a rose. I know the dogs didn't care for me saying she has more lives than a cat, but it's perfectly true. Considering all the things she survived when we were children, she must have more lives than a half-dozen cats!"
Loghain only nodded, not wanting to tell Howe that in the days when he and Maude had been at odds, he had thought her harder to kill than a cockroach, and had said as much to Nathaniel's father.
"It's moving! The door's moving!" Voldrik shouted. "Get those levers in there."
Loghain lent a hand himself, and after a moment, so did Nathaniel Howe. Stone cracked a little more. They backed away, another round of explosives was detonated, and when next the levers were applied, the doors fell inward with a crash. The dogs howled and dashed forward, paws scrabbling on stone.
"Heel, damn you!" Loghain roared, not wanting the hounds to go haring off on their own. To his exasperation, about thirty yards down the passage there was a twist in the pathway, and they found themselves confronted by another set of barred doors.
These, however, were far smaller and thinner, and they set to work, chiseling into the stone surrounding them. During a pause, a mason gave a shout.
"I hear tapping on the other side! I think someone's trying to raise the bar!"
Loghain's heart leaped. Who could it be but Maude? Who else could escape from an underground maze guarded by darkspawn? Who else was so intrepid, so dauntless, so invincible?
He pounded on the doors, shouting, "Maude! Is that you?"
Bang! Something slammed against the door, just by his ear. He winced, and then found himself near to weeping at the sound of her faint voice, calling, "It's me! Hold on—this bar is a bugger to lift!"
Scraping was followed by muffled curses and orders. Something heavy was lifted and then crashed to the floor.
"That's it!" yelled Voldrik. He shouted through the door. "Get back! We going to force the door."
Eager hands pushed, and a ragged cheer went up as the doors yielded at last, pushing the heavy iron bar out of the way. Past the doors was a huge chamber, ornately carved. This was no mine—or no mine like any that Loghain had ever seen. The vaulted ceiling was shrouded in darkness. On the polished granite floor lay the corpses of two dragons. Some of the soldiers swore and exclaimed at the sight. The dogs knocked men aside, baying like thunder.
Maude dashed forward, her dirty face alight, and Loghain swept her up in his arms, kissing her in front of everyone, not giving darkspawn's arse who was looking and commenting. She tasted of elfroot and blood and the individual sweetness that was Maude. Their armor banged and creaked, but he could not let her go. The dogs bounded and yipped. Ranger stood up on his hind legs and put his paws on a metal pauldron, licking Maude's filthy, rosy cheek. She laughed.
Loghain glanced past her rumpled hair and saw Anders, weary but alive, grinning at a fuming, distressed Morrigan, Sigrun was with him, helping Anders with a wounded man.
Who was not Oghren. The dwarf was already among them. "All right!" he bellowed. "Who's got something to drink? And I don't mean water!"
Laughter and cheers, and the bolder of the men started forward, wanting to peer at the only dragons most of them had ever seen close to. There were eager questions and considerable excitement. One of the men ran up the steps to find the wagons and a keg of ale.
"Are you all right?" Loghain hissed at his dear, crazy, exasperating girl.
"Never better!" She told him. "I met the Architect, and he's a complete slime! Pretty stupid too, but in a really annoying way… I'll tell you later. Anyway, I want you to meet Keenan. He's a Warden, and we found him!"
Loghain, after a moment's thought, recognized the name: one of the Fereldans whom Kristoff and his Orlesian Wardens had recruited. He was a youngish man in decent leathers, pale from what Loghain guessed must be hunger and wounds.
"Keenan," he said, gripping the man's forearm, receiving a wan, relieved smile in return.
"Warden-Commander, I never expected to leave this place alive."
"I told you," Maude said, "I told you we were going to be all right. You need to learn to trust me when I tell you what's going to happen." She waved, and reached out a hand, "Hello, Morrigan! I brought back Anders, safe and sound!"
Howe was shouting questions, so Maude let out a ear-splitting whistle and declared: "Yes, we were taken prisoner by the darkspawn! We escaped from our cell and fought our way out. As far as I know there are no darkspawn left in the mine, for their leader fled after setting the dragons on us."
"You killed two dragons!" one young man said breathlessly, goggling at Maude.
"Yes!" she assured him cheerfully. "We killed two dragons. The darkspawn were breeding them, and somehow had found a way not to Taint them. We found a nest with eggs and dragonlings and two drakes. We killed them, too. I daresay there will be dragonwing, dragonscale, and dragonbone for everyone in this outfit!"
More cheers. Maude hugged Loghain again, whispered. "And heaps of loot, glorious loot! And some of the Architect's notes! Oh, I have had an exciting time!"
He had not seen her so happy in months. But she had been in command, and had relied on her own wits and sword arm. That always seemed to agree with her.
Some of the men were detailed to work on processing the dead dragons. Skinning a dragon was not as simple as dealing with an ox or a sheep. Maude could give them tips about that, and was also preparing to lead a party deep into the winding passages beyond the mine—which included an elaborate underground living complex of uncertain age and provenance, and did indeed seem to be connected to the Deep Roads.
"I'd really like some fresh air," Anders said wearily, "and I want Keenan to get off his feet and let his legs heal."
"I daresay," Morrigan snapped, "and you need a bath. You smell like a ghoul!"
Anders managed a smile, and directed some of the men to help Keenan up the stairs. He followed, looking noticeably tired.
"Not his fault!" Oghren boomed. "Hell, we all smell like ghouls! The darkspawn stole our junk. We caught some ghouls with it and got it back, but they were wearing it, and got their ghoul-stink all over everythng!"
"True." Maude made a face. "It was creepy seeing those things dressed up as us. But we killed them."
"Haw!" agreed Oghren. "Nobody touches Oghren's junk and lives!"
"I was just happy to get my things back," Sigrun said, much calmer about it all. "It's really hard to find armor that fits."
"Well," Maude declared, "now we'll see to it that you have the spiffiest of custom armor, courtesy of our friend the Architect!"
Nathaniel had been listening in silence. "So this Architect…is the leader of these talking darkspawn?"
"More or less," Maude said. "It's not clear to me how much control he can really exercise over the regular darkspawn. Oh—and by the way, Nathaniel, we met your crazy elf mage. She was locked up with us."
Oghren cackled. "And she and Maude did not get along. Cat-fight!"
Some of the soldiers looked very interested at that, and leaned closer.
"We did not have a 'cat-fight,' as you put it!" Maude denied. "If we had, I would have nailed her hide to the wall. She was terribly, terribly annoying, and pretty much off her head. She was tracking her sister and wandered into the mine. She was caught, of course, and the Architect had locked us in the same cell with her. Which was unpleasant, because she kept ragging on us, and had a voice that could bend metal. You would have hated her, Morrigan. And she was rude to Keenan, when he was practically lying there dying!" She waved at the keg of ale Oghren had commandeered, and asked, "Can I have some of that?"
After taking a long drink, she wiped her mouth and went on. "So there we are in the cell, expressing our opinions of each other, when who should show up but the missing sister! Her name is Seranni, and I'll never forget it, because Velanna's voice will forever shrill it in my memory. Anyway, here comes the sister—"
"A real looker, for a ghoul," Oghren said, with a wink.
Morrigan rolled her eyes. "You are disgusting," she declared. "I am going to see to Anders. He will tell me the tale without your horrible commentary." She sneered, and hurried up the steps.
After she had gone, Maude shook her head, grinning. "Yes, she must have been lovely, but she was quite hopelessly Tainted. Too late for anything to help her," she added, giving Loghain the "you-know-what-I-mean" look. "Seranni had the key to the cell and passed it to her sister, so I took it and tried to question her. She told us we could get our things back if we were clever and quiet, but she ran away, with Velanna shrieking after her. I told her that her sister was a lost cause, but that's not what she wanted to hear."
"You had the key. You were able to escape. What then?" asked Loghain.
"Well! We found the Architect's nasty workroom full of human bodies, and we found some of his notes and books. We had to fight our way through, but none of his talking fellows were down there. We found the dragon nest and a few tough darkspawn, but nothing we couldn't handle. We found Keenan, and Anders took some time trying to put him right. Keenan wanted us to leave him and save ourselves, but I wasn't having that. Anders did enough to get him on his feet after a fashion, and Keenan could still use a bow, so we went on. That dragonbreeding darkspawn was the one who had smashed Keenan's legs and stole his wedding ring, but we got that back, of course. Keenan's wife is in Amaranthine. We'll have to look her up and bring her back to the Vigil. Anyway. We found the Architect's private rooms." She looked at Loghain with the oddest expression. "I want you to think about this… The Architect has private rooms. With a desk. And bookshelves. And most awfully creepy of all, a bed he sleeps in. Who ever heard of a darkspawn sleeping in a bed? He's like an awful mockery of a real person."
Sigrun added, "And just as we thought we were about to get away, we walked into this huge place and saw the Architect standing up there—" she pointed, "-with the elf girl and a Tainted dwarf woman, and then the dragons appeared."
"—So we killed the dragons, and the Architect watched, and when we'd killed them, Velanna started shrieking at her sister again, so the Architect took her along with him and the other woman. He collapsed the wall to cover his escape. At least as far as that Velanna is concerned, it was good riddance. She was so obnoxious!"
Howe frowned. "So she escaped justice—again. Did she understand that those traders she murdered were innocent?"
"Yes," Maude answered candidly. "She certainly did, after I explained how the darkspawn tricked her. Not that she cared."
Oghren snorted, "When I asked her how she felt about it, she said it made her 'warm and fuzzy.' Thought Maude would kill her."
"No," Maude shook her head. "She was useful, when we were escaping. And running off with the Architect assures her a fate infinitely worse than hanging."
"You don't think—" Loghain felt only disgust. "She will be made a Broodmother, do you suppose?" Howe's eyes widened with horror.
"Probably." Maude's brows knit in a scowl. "Or the Architect will use her for more experiments. If I hadn't been so busy at the moment, I would have told Keenan to shoot her. It would have been for the best."
Sigrun was very proud of her clean, wet hair. Maude had bundled her own into a wet braid, for she had much to share and discuss, and the Wardens walked some distance from from the camp to a private place to learn more about recent events. Anders was still concerned about Keenan's knees, but the young Warden wanted to be a part of any debriefing about the Architect. He was helped along and comfortably settled against a tree. Almost immediately, his eyelids drooped with all the potions Anders had given him.
"Poor sod," Oghren said. "He's been through hell."
Sigrun nodded, understanding. "He was the only survivor. I know what that's like."
"Will he be able to fight?" Loghain asked Anders.
"After a week or two. That dragon-taming darkspawn really did a number on his legs. I want him to be thoroughly healed and rested before he tries anything strenuous—or dangerous," he said pointedly.
"Still," Morrigan shrugged, "he is another warm body, and that he survived when others did not suggests some reserves of strength and resource. Even if he is a complete fool, he may not be utterly useless."
Loghain thought that was just about the kindest assessment that Morrigan had ever granted anyone. She must be in a good mood about the rescue of Anders. He nodded at Maude to give the report.
"I'll start from the beginning," Maude said, "and the rest of you can join in as you like. Yes, we met the Architect, and that was extremely interesting. We need to go back into the mine and clear out all of his things. I carried out his notebook and some loose pages, but there's a lot more in there to study. We were put under some sort of sleep spell right after we were trapped by the rock fall. I was out for some time, but I woke up briefly, lying naked on a an examining table of some sort, with that fucking idiot Architect talking to me in what he must think is a soothing voice. I wanted to kill him then and there, but I couldn't move. He told me he was not my enemy, and that we had much to discuss. When I next awakened I was in a cell, and dressed in rags that stank like ghoul."
"We all woke up in the cell," Sigrun piped up. "They weren't such terrible clothes—"
Maude glared. "The Architect removed all my clothes and dressed me, which is enough to condemn him to a horrible death—"
Oghren chuckled. "—or he had his elf tootsie do it for him—that's the theory I like."
Anders snorted and shook his head. "She was a ghoul, you pervert!"
"Elf—what?" Loghain managed..
"I'm getting to that," Maude said impatiently. "First of all, the Architect is a mage, yes, and he certainly looks more human than any darkspawn I've ever met. I've toyed with the idea that he's a diseased Warden of some sort, but I really don't think so. He doesn't think like a human at all. While there's quite an intellect there, he's so ignorant of human behavior that I don't think he even understands why I want to kill him. And the way he uses words…they don't mean what he thinks they mean. Like saying he's not my enemy, and then stealing my arms and armor and setting darkspawn and dragons on us. And experimenting on me…I think. Not to mention what he let his pets do to Keenan and the other Wardens he captured."
"What kind of …experiments?" Loghain demanded, his voice terrible.
"Not sure. I think he might have taken some blood from me," Maude said, "but he healed whatever he did before I awakened in the cell, so it's hard to be certain. He's trying to change the darkspawn, though, and he's really interested in Warden blood. I found some notes of his. Something about blood being "the key."
Morrigan burst out, "I wish Avernus were here! He would have grasped what this creature is after, if anyone could."
"So do I," Maude said frankly. "I thought the same thing, once we escaped the cell and found his workroom. Lots of dead human bodies littering the place. We'll have to clean them up and burn them, of course. His workroom was a little like Avernus' actually—all full of books and interesting gadgets. Avernus was interested in Warden blood, too..." Her voice drifted, and then she returned to her story. "So we fought our way through, and had quite a time with two dragons at once. It was odd, really, that there were so few darkspawn down there, and none at all of his clever ones. Maybe they've all gone over to The Mother, like The Lost and The First. As far as I can see, he doesn't command a significant force—"
Oghren remarked, "—or maybe they were wiped out at Kal'Hirol."
"That's possible!" Sigrun said excitedly. "We saw them fighting. Maybe most of them were killed."
"That's possible," Maude agreed. "I can't see the Architect knowing beans about tactics or strategy. His talking darkspawn are just clever enough to set an ambush, but once they do it's all full-out running at the enemy, waving swords. Darkspawn are a blunt instrument, at best. Yes, I do think it's possible he was hiding out here. Another reason it's important that we collect or destroy everything he had here. We won't find him until he pokes his head out of cover again. We'd do better to hunt down The Mother. The Architect is a spent force for now, I think. Of course," she added sourly, "he took his women with him, which is totally vomitous, and now he has one more, with that awful Velanna..."
"Now, now," Anders soothed her.
"Oh, come on, sparklefingers," Oghren rumbled, "she had a chip on her shoulder the size of a Paragon's statue! She would have butted heads with every one of us twenty times a day! Heh-heh…not that it wouldn't have been fun watch her and Morrigan get into it… Scary, but fun."
Morrigan said coldly, "We would have 'got into it' but once, I assure you!"
Loghain cocked an eyebrow at Maude. "You did not choose to use your 'legendary charm' on her?"
"No!" Maude replied, very cross. "I did not choose to do so. We don't need her. I'm sick of being charming to people who disgust me. If I see her again, I'm going to kill her." Annoyed, she walked away and threw a stick for the dogs.
"Well!" Morrigan exclaimed, surprised and amused. "This elf truly did rub Maude the wrong way!"
"No kidding!" laughed Oghren. "I have never, in all the time I've known Maude, heard her tell someone to 'shut the fuck up!' She's always been pretty nice…tactful, even. That Velanna really put a stone in her boot."
Sigrun said, "I haven't known her very long, but I think Maude is nice. That's why what Velanna said to Keenan—when we all thought he was dying—got her so angry." She lowered her voice and the rest of them leaned in. "Keenan wanted her to take his wedding ring to his wife, and tell her he became a Warden because he wanted to make the world a better place. And Velanna said out loud that that was the most insipid thing she'd ever heard. And then Maude said what she said—"
"'Shut the fuck up!'" Oghren guffawed. "I can't get over it! It was great..."
Sigrun punched Oghren lightly. "—and if she hadn't been helping Anders with Keenan, I think she would have stuck her with a knife then and there."
Morrigan considered it all. "I think," she said slowly, "that this has been coming for a long time. That foolish elf was simply the last straw."
Loghain looked after Maude's retreating figure, her stiff shoulders, her defiantly lifted chin. Morrigan, alas, was probably right. The elf had pushed her too far. And being in Amaranthine was no help at all.
They would have quite a feast that night. Mature drakes and dragons, Maude told the men they traveled with, were inedible; but young dragonlings could be very, very tasty.
"Like chicken," she declared, "only better. I promise," she insisted, amused at Howe's expression.
"'Tis true," Morrigan agreed. "we had little else to eat in the Frostbacks. One might eat deepstalker in the Deep Roads simply to avoid starving, but dragonling is actually quite toothsome, if one is careful, when gutting the beasts, not to nick the fire glands or the second stomach."
And thus, five of the little creatures were dragged from the tunnels, and when dressed and skinned, each had more usable meat than a veal calf. Soldiers saw them spitted and browning over the campfires, and shook their heads in wonder. The skins, too, seemed well worth tanning: if not for armor, then for delicate leather goods.
"Like corsets," Maude decided. "I think I'd like a dragonling corset, in its own natural lavender color. It would be very pretty. And a pair of dancing slippers. And a little shoulder cape. And boots. And a pair of gloves..."
"Admit it," Maude demanded. "It tastes just like chicken." She popped another morsel of dragonling into her mouth, and savored it slowly.
"No," Loghain replied, to her great indignation. "It's better than chicken. A lot better. No wonder the Nevarrans nearly hunted dragons out of existence."
He was seconded by grunts of agreement and repletion around the Wardens' campfire. Keenan was smiling faintly, drowsy and out of pain. Even the dogs had had all they could possibly eat for once.
"Yup," rumbled Oghren, "this is prime stuff. Ought to go into dragon farming ourselves. Make it a sideline of Wardening, up there at the Peak. Dragons like mountains."
Sigrun, a little tipsy, giggled. "Dragon farming."
Maude narrowed her eyes, thinking it over. "You know, it's not impossible…"
"Maker!" Loghain groaned.
"—No, Loghain, I can see how we could do it. Dragons aren't all that stupid. They get along with people they know. Those crazy dragon cult people got a High Dragon to get along with them. They could talk to her, and she seemed to understand them all right. The drakes would attack on command. And even the darkspawn managed to get some dragon-raising going. If a darkspawn can do it," she declared, a bit drunkenly, "I can do it!"
"Hear, hear!" Anders lifted his mug in salute.
"In fact," Maude said, her eyes glowing with what she might think a Good Idea, but which Loghain identified as total insanity, "maybe if we hand-raised some dragons, we could ride on them, the way the old-time Wardens rode griffons!"
"Ride…in the sky?" Sigrun quavered.
"Yes!" Maude nearly burst with excitement. "think of it! We raise the dragons from the time they're hatchlings, and make friends with them. We could make special harness just like for horses, only bigger, and ride them places. That would be utterly fantastic!"
Keenan stared at her, rather dazzled. "You certainly know how to think big, Senior Warden."
Maude patted his hand. "Call me Maude, Keenan. Yes, I do. Thinking small never got me anywhere! I'd love to ride a dragon!"
"Dunno," Oghren grunted, spearing another slice of dragochicken, "I'd rather eat them, myself, but that's just me."
"We'd have to choose," Anders pointed out, with drunken gravity. "You can't eat them and also make friends with them. Doesn't work that way. Just like dogs."
Topaz whined, and cocked her head.
"I see what you mean," Maude nodded sagely, "Don't worry, sweet girl. Anders means that once you make friends you can't possibly eat someone. Simply not done. Just like nobody would eat a dog, because we love you so much."
Ranger yipped agreement, and Topaz was mollified, coming over to Loghain to put her head on his knee.
Loghain had decided that it was just about time to appropriately celebrate his silly girl's escape from the Architect. "Maude," he said gently, "I seem to recall an episode of dragonriding that didn't quite work out as planned. Didn't Riordan nearly fall to his death—"
"It's as different as chalk and cheese!" Maude cut him off instantly. "Riordan hadn't made friends with the Archdemon. Really, nobody could…but that's not the point. Old Gods would not be suitable because they're so bloody full of themselves, but a nice sensible dragon, raised by decent people, might become quite decent herself. It would be such fun to fly. Morrigan, isn't it gorgeous to fly?"
The witch hardly heeded her, as she was lounging comfortably against Anders, studying him with smoldering eyes. "Gorgeous…"
"There!" Maude pointed at her friend triumphantly. "You see! And she's an expert flier herself! She could give us all sorts of advice!"
Loghain staggered up, tugging at Maude's hand. "Enough of this madness! We're going to bed."
Cheers and drunken catcalls followed them away from the campfire.
"You're gonna ride a dragon tonight, Maude!" Oghren cackled.
"Oghren, you are such a pig!" Anders told him, throwing a rib at him. Oghren grabbed it in mid-flight.
"Hey, there's still meat on this one. Thanks!"
Maude laughed a little wildly, and pulled Loghain into their tent, her clever fingers busy with his laces. "Maybe you're the one who's going to ride a dragon..."
He took her in his arms, grinding urgently against her. He had never told her—never told anyone—what he had experienced on the top of Fort Drakon, when just for an instant he had been an Old God. Something of that intoxication heated his blood once more. He kissed her hungrily and tore at her clothes in angry rapture, not even bothering with his boots. Making love on a cot—even a wide one—was a tricky business. His fingers slid up inside her, eliciting a startled, yearning cry. Without further ceremony, he eased her back onto the cot, and settled himself on her, kneeing her legs apart, clutching her close.
Voice husky, he croaked, "I thought I'd lost you."
"Never," she whispered back, and then gasped as he thrust into her. "You'll never lose me. And I will never let you go." She wrapped her legs around him, urging him on.
He gave himself up to desire, falling into a steady and commanding rhythm, like the beat of powerful wings. The voices outside faded into nothing. Maude's soft moans became the sweet night wind above the mountains, under clear skies and eternal stars. They soared together, and together found their way home.
Thank you to my reviewers: Menamebephil, Aoi24, Sarah1281, Josie Lange, Zute, Phygmalion, mutive, Persephone Chiara, Enaid Aderyn, Kira Kyuuketsuki, Judy, JackOfBladesX, Shakespira, Amhran Comhrac, Juliafied, Lehni, Gene Dark, mille libri, and Iapetus.
I decided that Velanna had to go along with Seranni. If the Architect thought her worth capturing once, he would probably think it worthwhile to capture her again. That he doesn't simply seems game mechanics to me. I could think of no way that she would not be immediately executed by Nathaniel Howe for the murders of the traders, and there's no way that Loghain or Maude would conscript her. Furthermore, since she had already escaped from Howe once, he would have killed her on the spot to keep her from escaping again.