The Keening Blade
Chapter 45: Visitors to Breaker's Cove
Of the thirty-two new recruits sent out to collect their darkspawn blood, thirty-one made it back to Soldier's Peak. Of the thirty-one who took the Joining, twenty-six survived. There were now fifty-seven Ferelden Wardens.
To Morrigan's immense irritation, the two silly young mages, Corentin and Damien, survived; while other, braver men did not. The Joining was still a mystery, and probably always would be. She assigned Bethany to mentor Damien, and Ambrose to mentor Corentin, and then washed her hands of them. If they could at least learn some healing spells, they would not be completely useless. The other mages they had were sound enough to make up for the young recruits' deficiencies.
Sketch had managed to learn to shape-shift. He had mastered rabbit form with astonishing speed: he had seen, hunted, and eaten a lot of rabbits. The form came easily to him, though he disliked the jokes about the similar ears. However, Ranger and Topaz had also seen, hunted, and eaten a lot of rabbits; and the embarrassing series of events that followed convinced Sketch that rabbit form was definitely a Bad Idea. It was extremely entertaining for everyone else, however. The dogs followed him everywhere, and continued to eye him speculatively, waiting for him to revert to a smaller, tastier form.
"A horse would be good," Maude suggested. "The dogs won't attack a horse. Something that isn't prey would be the thing."
"I think birds are best," Bethany remarked. "Birds of prey high up away from the dogs."
"Or," Ambrose considered, "Why not be a dog? Humans won't hunt a dog, and most animals give them a wide berth. I think being a mabari might be very useful, if someone wanted to do a bit of spying."
Ranger was impressed by the wisdom of the dark-haired mage, and came over to look him in the eye, considering what sort of man he was, and if he was good enough to be a dog. It would be all right with Ranger, as long the mage remembered who was the alpha of the pack.
To Loghain's immense relief, Temmerin Glavonak was now a Warden. He was so useful an engineer that Loghain was not sure he would ever risk him in the Deep Roads again. He was put to work on what the Senior Wardens called The Stardust Project: taking the initial research into reverse engineering gaatlok, and rendering it into forms that could be used effectively by the Wardens. Two of the dwarves from the last recruitment had enough training to serve as effective assistants. Loghain had great hopes of them. A new stone building, at some distance from the castle, was constructed as their workshop, with strong walls and a rather light roof, which Temmerin explained would be best if there were an unfortunate accident.
It worked to assign other Wardens to partner the new recruits, and Loghain gave serious thought to those assignments. There was a regular training rota; and a regular rota for work around the Peak, as well. Eventually they would have all the tenants and hirelings they needed to look after the horses and the sheep-shearing and the gardens, but for now, everyone lent a hand doing something or other. There was always a great deal of work to be done in the spring.
Telamon's wife Lyris was a biddable girl, and eager to make a place for herself. She was an experienced weaver; and there was now a big room in the lower levels set aside for spinning and weaving. They could buy all their cloth, but it seemed foolishly extravagant not to make some use of their wool themselves. Even if the women working there only made blankets at first, that would be extremely useful. Lyris and Clerys had made friends quickly, and worked out that they were distant cousins from both the matrilineal and patrilineal lines. It was not close enough to count among humans unless an inheritance were in question; but it mattered to city elves, and gave them a sense of family.
Maude liked messing about in her rose garden, and carried Gareth outside, well guarded by the dogs, while she put the bushes in order. She got her wish when a shipment of apricot and plum trees arrived, and she watched Loghain plant them along a stone wall facing north. Sheltered in such a way, they at least stood a chance.
"You won't let me help," she sulked.
"I don't need any help," Loghain told her, wiping sweat from his face. "It's easier to do it myself."
"Are you sure?" she insisted. "Because I could—"
"Maude." He forced himself to be patient. She was a nursing mother, after all. "I don't need. Any. Help."
"Spoilsport."
More letters arrived. Maude tore into one of them with enthusiasm.
"Leliana! It's about time!"
Loghain had told Mairead to take some time for himself, and was playing with his baby son. It was a pleasure to hold the tiny body close while Maude scanned her letter, her face clouding more with every word. Finally she dropped the parchment on to the desk, scowling, and began pacing in agitation.
"Bad news?"
"For me, I suppose. Leliana sounds happy. Now she is, I mean. She wasn't before. So, here's the story." She took a deep breath. "Riordan went to his Calling in Wintermarch. Leliana traveled with him to Orzammar, and they had a melancholy but passionate farewell, and so forth, and so forth,"
"No details, please," Loghain said crisply.
"You can read her letter if you want. It's like one of the spicy Orlesian romances Wynne favored."
"I don't much care for Orlesian romances, spicy or plain, thank you."
"—So she kissed him goodbye, etcetera, and went back to Val Royeaux to mope, and being Leliana, to take comfort in the pretty sights and sounds and smells of the Grand Cathedral. She is so very pious, after all…"
Loghain was really more interested the growing light of remarkable intelligence in Gareth's big blue eyes, but humored his wife. "Go on."
"She ran into an old friend there, a priest whom she says once saved her life back in her wild criminal days as a bard. Mother Dorothea is a rising power in the Chantry, and she spun a yarn about Leliana using her wonderful skills for good. That sort of rubbish; but, sad to say, Leliana fell for it. Leliana is terribly gullible."
"So the Chantry politician wanted her own bard."
"Something like that. Leliana admitted to the priest that she was now a Grey Warden, but the Revered Mother patted her on the head and told her 'Nobody's perfect,' or something of the sort, and so Leliana has not only taken Chantry vows, she's become a Seeker!"
Loghain looked up, taking in the news. He found it all very ominous. Leliana did not know all their secrets, but she knew more than he liked.
"The Seekers of Truth? The Divine's secret inquisitors?
"Their investigators, if you want to put it more politely. I can see that you don't. Generally they're investigating their own people, which is why the Templars hate them." She paused in her pacing. "That's one good thing. She'll be giving Templars a hard time…"
Gareth grinned, and grasped Loghain's thick forefinger in a tiny hand. That wrung a smile from him. "Morrigan will be pleased," he said to Maude. "She's never liked Leliana."
"Morrigan will be smug," Maude corrected, throwing herself into a chair and slouching, thoroughly vexed. "You know how she is when she's smug. She'll say things about people who can't keep one set of vows, so why would they keep another…?"
"Morrigan would be perfectly within her rights to say that."
"If Leliana were here, I could talk her out of it. I know I could."
"But she is not here, and Mother Dorothea apparently also has extraordinary powers of persuasion. And Leliana, as you say, is very pious." A comforting thought occurred to him. "If she were here," he said, his voice carefully silky, "she would want a chapel in the castle and a chantry in the town."
"That would be tiresome," Maude agreed, coming over to play with Gareth. "I don't mind priests, as long as they don't meddle in anything important, but I don't want any Templars around."
"Then you must let her go, Maude. Let her go her own way."
Morrigan was very smug indeed, when given the news at dinnertime. Oddly enough, when discussing the letter, they discovered the Bethany was acquainted with Leliana, from their days in Lothering. Once assured that they were speaking of the same Leliana whom she had known as a lay sister who told wonderful stories, she recalled Leliana's bright red hair and pretty accent.
Loghain humphed at that.
Maude explained to Bethany, "Loghain doesn't find Orlesian accents 'pretty.' They make him want to kill things."
The girl laughed merrily. "Then the streets would run red if he ever visited Kirkwall!"
"Probably," grunted Loghain.
Laughter rippled down the table.
"Slide it into place! Don't drop it, for Maker's sake!"
There was something immensely satisfying about laying the cornerstone of a new watchtower. Loghain had promised himself that the one on the little hill overlooking Breaker's Cove would be the very last word in modern fortifications.
Their little village could not be neglected. The Wardens used it for recreation, and more and more for trade. Perhaps in the days of Commander Asturian, Ferelden had been too primitive and underpopulated, but Loghain wondered why the Wardens had never made a point of developing a civilian village to support the order. Even excepting the handy little harbor, Breaker's Cove was becoming extremely useful. More and more craftsfolk were settling here. Maude had planned out improvements to the single lane through the village, and had drawn up a design for a long stone building to house more shops. At this rate, they were going to be siphoning trade away from Amaranthine in no time.
The watchtower was going to be a jewel of its kind, filled with the best weapons and the best people available. In Denerim, Loghain had spoken to one of his former soldiers. Sergeant Tarren was to be the new Watch Captain at Breaker's Cove, and was bringing along some old friends of hers to serve as watchmen. Tarren had refused outright to become a Warden, but she was amenable to settling down, after a fashion. Or perhaps she wanted to take her two young nephews away from the bad influences of Denerim and the deteriorating situation in the army housing. Loghain wished her good luck with that. It seemed to him that Breaker's Cove was rife with all sorts of bad influences of its own. At any rate, Tarren would stand for no nonsense. She was due to arrive any day now, and perhaps could knock some heads together. Tactfully. She had always been good at that.
Maude had gone off with the maids and the baby to visit Evelina, the village…schoolmistress…he supposed she was. Evelina had brought a mob of children with her, former refugees she had spirited away to Kirkwall during the Blight. As she was already teaching them their letters, others were paying her to include their sprogs in the lessons. It was not widely known that Evelina was a mage. Loghain hoped they could keep it quiet. As far as he knew, none of the children living with her or attending her little school was magical.
Right now, while rather rowdy, Breaker's Cove had a 'live and let live' working philosophy that Loghain found refreshing. A few people had made noises about building a Chantry, but where there were Chantries, there tended to be Templars, and Loghain did not want to share any authority whatever with them. If a mage caused trouble, Loghain felt he and his Wardens could deal with it speedily and effectively. They did not need bucket-headed bigots to interfere. If some mild-mannered priest wanted to open a chapel and do good works, that was one thing: a competing warlord was quite another.
In his youth, even when Ferelden was under Orlesian control, priests and lay brothers and sisters had gone about their business in the country, not requiring armed guards. Over the past twenty years, the growing militarization of the Chantry had resulted in it being concentrated in the sizable towns and villages. If someone in the Warden demesene wanted a wedding in a Chantry, they would have to go to Highever, Oswin, or Amaranthine. There were other forms of marriage, of course. He would have the Watch Captain keep a registry of civil marriages. For that matter, people could just call each other husband and wife—plenty of the poor did that—or follow Maude's precedent of an Alamarri custom marriage. That, of course, required a public duel, either between the concerned parties or their champions.
He thought about it again. It might be entertaining, at that. If they paved out the little town square in Maude's design, they could have duels there.
Such pleasant thoughts were put by as Loghain became conscious of an unusual amount of noise coming from the village. Another bar fight?
No. That was a child's scream. His head jerked up, and he scanned the village below. There was activity…a lot of activity. Another scream reached him, borne on the eastern breeze.
"Commander?" Darrow was frowning, looking in the same direction.
"Wardens! With me!" Loghain directed. "We'll see what's going on. The rest of you," he ordered the dwarven builders. "Stay here! And keep working!"
The hill needed stone steps, he decided, as he half-slid down them, hurrying to see what was happening…what might be happening to Maude…to Gareth. By the time he reached the bottom of the hill, he was running.
He had Darrow and Kain. He had Topaz. Who was with Maude? Ranger and Onyx, of course.
Bethany knew Evelina from Kirkwall, and was with her. The two maids had accompanied them, though they would need Maude's protection, rather than being of any help.
By the time he was in Breaker's Cove's little muddy lane, it was clear that this was not a bar fight: it was a battle. A battle against a mob of crazed dwarves. The town was rising up against them: at a dyer's shop the owner smashed a pair of dye pots over a dwarf's head. The dwarf staggered, head half blue and half yellow, the pigment blinding him. A woman threw a cauldron of boiling soup at another attacker. More dwarves appeared from nowhere and charged up the street, howling.
Who were these madmen? Were they King Bhelen's men? Disgruntled treasurer-seekers from Kal'Hirol? How had the Wardens pissed off so many dwarves? A curious sensation tickled across the back of his neck, but Loghain pushed it aside. It was time to fight.
A dwarf rushed at him, axe swinging, eyes oddly glazed. Loghain caught the axe with his sword and twisted, pulling the dwarf off-balance. Darrow swung backhand, knocking the little bastard down. Topaz seized the dwarf by the face in her powerful jaws, and shook him, growling fearsomely. It did not last long, but there were more of them.
In a house further on, children were shrieking, thin voices wild with panic.
The dwarves were mobbing Evelina's little cottage, shouldering each other aside to push into the doorway. One reeled back, blood pumping from his throat. A pair of them were grey with a paralysis spell, and then red with death wounds. Out of the doorway shot spurts of magic, hot sparks of red and cold sparks of blue. The noise was greatest here: the clash of swords, Ranger and Onyx's angry barks, and Maude 's clear voice rallying her friends.
"Freeze them, Bethany! Evelina! Get the children up to the loft! Mairead! Take Gareth and go with her—"
Cutting high above the noise was a baby's anguished wail. Gareth.
It was enough to throw a blood-red haze over everything in Loghain's path. A bellow resounded, echoing up and down the street, and Loghain, his boots pounding the earth, realized dimly that he had uttered it. He would kill every one of them…
"The blood of the Hawke!" screamed a dwarf. "I can taste it in the air!"
Loghain grabbed one of the dwarves by the neck, and threw him to the ground, where Topaz pinned him down. Surprised from behind, the dwarves were hacked, slashed, beheaded. Bethany, invisible in the press of bodies, shouted out a spell that hammered the rest into confusion. Loghain stumbled back, caught in the wash of the magic, but Kain and Darrow moved in and finished off the downed dwarves. Other spells were being cast, from the top of the loft steps. Evelina, Loghain supposed.
The leader of the dwarves had fallen to Maude's sword, but was still struggling and gobbling. Loghain blinked at the rage on his wife's face. She was flushed and wild-eyed, screaming incoherently as she began slamming the door into the dwarf's head. His helmet took the worst of the impact. Maude then kicked the helmet off and hit him with the door again. There was an awful crunching sound, and then another, wetter one.
"You want blood?" she shrieked. "How about this? How about this? Is this enough, you little shit?"
She hit the now-dead dwarf with the door one last time. Loghain grabbed her arm and pulled her away.
"Where's Gareth?" he demanded. She seemed beyond speech, but he had his answer from another source.
"Up here, my lord!" Mairead, her broad face white and scared, peered down from the loft. "He's fine. Are there more of those crazy dwarves?"
Maude was wiping furiously at her bloody armor, hissing with fury.
"I can't go to Gareth," she hissed, talking to herself. "I can't go to Gareth like this…"
Loghain looked up and down the street. A few of the dwarves were sprawled in the muck. Most were on or near the cottage's threshold. The attack had been concentrated here, focused on Evelina's house. Why?
The children were sobbing in the loft. Sobbing or sniveling or begging to be told what was happening. It was enough to drive anyone mad, even someone better balanced than Maude.
"Stay up there for now!" he shouted back. "We'll make sure we've got them all."
Bethany stared down at the body of the dead dwarf, her face twisted in disgust. She whispered, "I felt...a connection... I think. Is that…a Warden?"
"No." Maude snarled, and gave the shattered head another savage kick. "It's a ghoul. Look, we'll clean up here. The children can't come down and touch this. We need to char any blood. It's Tainted."
"One of them's alive, ser," Kain announced, dragging out a stunned dwarf from under the pile. The dwarf's head lolled. Darrow forced back an eyelid. The eye was grey and filmy, a clear indication of Taint.
Kain looked closer. "So that's a ghoul. Ugly bugger, ain't he?"
"He'll look worse when I've done with him," Loghain growled. "You and Darrow get him out of sight in the grove nearby. Tie him up, and start moving the corpses out of the village. We'll have a long talk with the prisoner when we're finished righting this place. Keep him alive, but don't let him get away."
The two big men frog-marched the dwarf ghoul away, while Evelina and the maids tried to quiet the children. Gareth's wails subsided, soothed by Mairead. Maude pounded the door frame in rage, unable to go him in her current bloody condition.
"Stay up there," Bethany called to Evelina. "We don't want the children to see all this."
Some of them were looking, though: huge, curious child-eyes peering down from the loft. A few of the bigger boys begged Evelina to let them go down and help.
"No!" Loghain commanded. "You boys! Keep the little ones up there! Anyone who comes down before I say so will answer to me."
Apparently, nobody wanted to answer to him. There was a brief hush upstairs, then very small noises, like mice in a cupboard. Loghain grunted, satisfied with his threats, and turned to deal with the aftermath outside.
People were coming out of their houses and shops, wanting to know what was happening. The dyer, grinning, was pointing out one the bodies...the blue and yellow one he had felled.
"Mercenaries," Maude told them, her manic stage over, now assuming a very calm and superior expression. "Dwarven mercenaries. It looks like they attacked the wrong village."
This raised some uncertain laughter. Maude seized on that.
"It's why we're building the watchtower," she assured them. "Once that's in place, nobody will be about to sneak up on you even again."
"The Watch Captain is expected here in the next day or so," Loghain added, supporting his wife even when she was lying like a rug. "And now, we'll find out from the prisoner whose company these dwarves are from, and we'll send the leader a message he won't soon forget!"
"We'll clean up the bodies," Maude promised. "Don't touch them or the blood either. They might have brought foreign diseases with them. If you see any bits, show them to us and we'll burn them."
Bethany whispered to Loghain, "You're not going to tell anybody that they're ghouls?"
"We don't want to create a panic," he whispered back. "We'll clean the place thoroughly. A mercenary attack is quite bad enough. We'll burn the bodies at some distance from the village."
The eight dead dwarves were hauled away, and all traces of blood purified. It was an annoying, time-consuming job. Kain and Darrow had tied up the prisoner very securely, and came to help. A barren, rocky spot was cleared for a make-shift pyre, and the corpses were piled there.
"You know," Maude said bitterly, dumping a bandy-legged body on top of his fellows. "I had about a million things to do today, and one of them I had not planned was cleaning up after ghouls. Nasty little bastards."
"Who sent them?" Bethany wondered, scrubbing the blood from the hem of her clothes. "I didn't know ghouls would attack…"
Loghain had never heard of such a thing, either, and from the distracted, furious expression on Maude's face, it was clear it was news to her, too. It was time for some answers. They surrounded the prisoner and suggested he start talking.
The dwarf was mostly off his head. He slobbered and gibbered, and the Taint had taken whatever sense he had ever possessed, but in the end they had the story. The dwarves had come for Bethany, "the blood of the Hawke." Not to kill her, but to carry her off with them. Bethany, understandably found the idea quite horrifying.
Nor was the "Hawke" in question her warrior brother. These crazy dwarves were looking for descendants of Malcolm Hawke, the deceased father of Bethany and Adam. Malcolm Hawke had been a mage, and a powerful one, and had been involved in some very, very dodgy business before his children were born.
"I can't believe that Father would have anything to do with such people!" Bethany insisted, angry and afraid.
The dwarf kept staring at her in a disturbingly hungry way. Darrow punched his head, and turned him around, facing away from the young mage.
"What do you need this blood for?" Maude asked, with poisonous sweetness.
"For Corypheus. It will free him from his prison!"
"Who's Corypheus?" Darrow wondered. He appealed to Loghain. "Sounds foreign, don't it?"
This was a very complicated story indeed. These dwarves were part of a cult that worshiped…or adored…or were possessed by the power of some being called Corypheus. This creature was trapped in a secret prison in the Vimmark Mountains near Kirkwall: a prison devised by…the Grey Wardens.
"Grey Wardens!" Maude shouted. "Just when I think I know how fucked-up this order is, I'm proven wrong! What? We've got a prison full of demons…no…not a demon…It's another fucking talking darkspawn, isn't it? Maker's smelly shit!"
"Maude…" Loghain put a heavy hand on her shoulder. Was he surprised? Not much. A little stunned at the breadth of the deceptions practiced by the order. He had never, in any communication from the Wardens, heard of any such place. That did not mean it did not exist. Why could the Wardens never tell their own people what they were up to? Who was guarding the bloody place?
From the dwarf's account, no one. There were magical barriers in place, but clearly they were defective. The ghoul was so far gone that he made no attempt to conceal the numbers of the cult of Corypheus, nor did he shrink from describing the prison and the outer fortress. When asked why they had attacked at this particularly time, he gave an answer particularly painful to Bethany.
"Word came from Kirkwall of the name Hawke. A woman was murdered…a woman by the name of Hawke. Rumor spread and told us that there were two children…the children of Malcolm Hawke…"
"Adam!" Bethany cried. "He's in danger!" Maude put her arm around her shoulders.
"We must have the blood of the Hawke," the ghoul muttered. "More will come to find this one."
"You won't be with them." Loghain cut the head off cleanly, the Keening Blade singing in perfect content.
The body and its disassociated head were added to the pile, and Bethany grimly set fire to it. A quick, very hot fire. The smoke rose up blackly, and the breeze bore it inland, away from the village.
They were going to have to do something about this situation, obviously.
"I've got to go to Gareth," Maude said. "I've got to do that first. Then we'll go home and figure out what's next."
They marched back through the village, cheerfully waving and smiling, accepting the plaudits of the blissfully ignorant populace. Maude, sharp-eyed as always, found a few fingers and some teeth, and tucked them away for safe disposal later on. They duly returned to the cottage, which Loghain noted would need some repair to the door and doorframe. The charred threshold would have to be replaced as well. He'd leave an order for a carpenter to see to it.
Evelina was the most composed of the women inside. She managed a tight smile at their appearance, and led the children downstairs. The older boys swaggered a little, to prove that had never been scared...much. The rest of the children crept after them, clinging to the walls. Mairead was shaking, and Clerys almost too terrified to walk.
Gareth began wailing again, ready for his elevenses. He was hungry and disconsolate and very, very noisy. Maude, with Bethany and Loghain's assistance, hastily got cleaned up enough that she could safely hold and feed the baby in Evelina's tiny bedroom.
"We'll have to go to Kirkwall," Loghain said slowly. There was really no question about it. "We'll have to look into this. Tantervale may have jurisdiction, but I couldn't care less. These creatures attacked us. I'll assign Wardens to guard the village until Tarren and her lads come, and I'll organize the expedition. We should be able to leave in two or three days."
"I have to go," Bethany said quickly. "I'm the one they're after. If I'm not here, they won't trouble these people again. I wish we could send a message to Adam. Those ghouls will be after him, too...if they haven't attacked him already."
Loghain gave her a nod. "Certainly you'll go. And perhaps your cousin would like to see Kirkwall again. Another mage would be useful."
"I've got to go," Maude spoke up. She clutched Gareth to her breast almost desperately. Loghain had never seen her looking more miserable. "I have to go, and kill every last one of those lunatics. If I don't go, I really and truly will lose my mind. We'll find a wetnurse for Gareth, and leave him with Fergus and Cauthrien. He'll be safe with them."
Loghain grimaced, but did not disagree. Where there were ghouls, there would be darkspawn, and no one in Thedas killed darkspawn better than Maude. They could not take Gareth away from Ferelden and into danger with them. That said, his son could not have a better protector than Cauthrien.
They would send a message to the captain of the Wild Wyvern to prepare for a voyage across the Waking Sea. They would arrange for the safety of their people, they would pack their gear, and very soon they would be on their way.
To a foreign land.
Were the situation not so desperate, he would never have considered it. The thought of leaving Ferelden soil made Loghain queasy. This was his homeland: he drew his strength from it. He had never had the least desire to fritter away his time in idle travel to filthy foreign lands, eating filthy foreign food and listening to pointless foreign chatter. Amongst foreigners.
That said, he was not going to wait for another attack. Maude was right: the only way to deal with this bizarre cult was to wipe them out.
Sergeant Tarren, with her party of five and their associated families and impedimenta, duly appeared the day after the attack, and were quickly briefed on the situation. Tarren's mission was clear: protect the village with Warden assistance as needed; continue work on the watchtower, and keep the peace amongst the villagers. Ultimately, the Watch would be housed in the new tower. Until then, they had rooms at the War Dog Inn. With that settled, Loghain could concentrate on embarking as soon as possible...first to Highever, and then across the sea to Kirkwall.
He could not take all the Wardens, obviously, but he would take a strong party.
Bethany must come with them, of course: her cousin Ambrose, too, with his personal interest in defending his cousin, and a certain curiosity about seeing Kirkwall again. Darrow and Kain, faithful as mabari and just as useful, could not be left behind. Oghren, hungry for "real action," as he put it, and finding even limited domesticity unbearable, begged to go along. Valentine, who knew the Free Marches well, would come, too.
There was an additional reason to bring Valentine. He was from Tantervale, and the Wardens of Tantervale had nominal authority over Kirkwall. As soon as Loghain returned to the Peak, Valentine and Telamon were called to the War Room and mercilessly grilled about the existence of this so-called "Warden Prison." Both swore that they had never heard of any such place.
"That, of course," Maude pointed out, "doesn't mean it doesn't exist. The Wardens can't tell their own people the truth to save their lives. Literally."
While they made ready for the journey, they also wrote letters. There were letters to Alistair and Anora that would not be sent anytime soon, but were there to be read if necessary. A far more urgent and angry missive was prepared for the Warden-Commander of Tantervale, holding him responsible for the attack on Ferelden soil.
The Glavonaks, uncles and nephew, would not be traveling with them, but worked without meals or sleep to provide them with bombs and grenades to add to their armament. Maude particularly appreciated their efforts.
"A prison," she explained, sprawling in her accustomed chair in the War Room, "is by nature a place with thick walls and inconveniently heavy doors. We will want to get through them. If I can't pick the locks, then I can blow them up. It's very satisfactory to have a backup plan."
She also insisted they take at least three fairly new junior Wardens. "It's good for them. It's like…succession planning. Today's youth should have the opportunity to experience scary adventures…to meet strange and unfamiliar forms of life and learn how to kill them. It's a very broadening experience."
That was true. To Loghain's surprise, he found there was a quite a bit of interest in the Kirkwall expedition, and a number of volunteers. While he hoped for some archers, he finally left it to a lottery, for all the applicants had things to recommend them.
He found himself with Thenyra, a young Dalish archer; another archer in Hereward, who came from Waking Sea bannorn; and to his great satisfaction, big and brawny Osbeck, who had always wanted see more of the world. Loghain was rather pleased with the results, and the disappointed applicants were appeased by the plans drawn up for Sigrun to lead an expedition into the Angmarrack Road within the next month. No Warden knew that part of the Deep Roads better than Sigrun, since she had traveled it with the Legion of the Dead all the way from Orzammar to Kal'Hirol.
Just as they though the plans were going well, Morrigan presented herself before them in the War Room.
"I am relieved," she declared, "that you are not taking me on this adventure to see yet another squalid underground warren."
Maude seemed concerned that her friend's feathers might be ruffled, and set about smoothing them. "We know you hate the Deep Roads. This is very likely going to be just as nasty. Besides, we can't strip the Wardens of all the mages, and Bethany must go. Ambrose is fond of her, and has family ties, and then there is the Flemeth situation—"
"I am not complaining!" Morrigan broke in sharply. She drew herself up with great dignity. "I certainly do not wish to be on the same side of the Waking Sea as Flemeth! However, if I remain here, I will no doubt be dragged along with Sigrun into an equally disagreeable place. It occurred to me that I might be of use elsewhere, in a situation far more satisfactory to me."
Loghain narrowed his eyes, wondering what she wanted. "Go on."
"I wish," Morrigan said haughtily, "to go to Highever. While I have no doubt that the noble Teyrn and Teyrna would defend the child—" Morrigan always referred to Gareth as "the child"—"with their lives, one cannot be too careful. I could go, perhaps with one or two other Wardens, on the pretext of searching for a rumored entrance to the Deep Roads somewhere near Highever. To satisfy the bigots, you could give out that one of the other Wardens was the leader…" The word was larded with contempt. "…and that I was with them in the capacity of scribe, to collate their findings. I would thus be in the castle most of the time, and if there were any difficulties—for there are many who no doubt find the child's existent inconvenient—he would have more formidable protection than idle good wishes and mere swords."
Maude gazed on her, broke into a beautiful smile, and walked over to embrace the witch. Loghain felt a bit like embracing her himself, but Maude might not quite understand.
"Morrigan! What a kind, sensible plan! You are a true friend!"
Morrigan nearly returned the hug, but then looked unspeakably embarrassed and patted Maude awkwardly instead. "'Twas not my intent to make a ridiculous scene. 'Tis simply rational! I do not entirely trust…" Her eyes slid to Loghain, and she pursed her lips. "…anyone." Then, defiantly, she added, "Including crowned, cheese-eating fools."
It was perfectly obvious that Morrigan was really speaking of Anora, who, to be perfectly candid, Loghain did not entirely trust either. He did not think his daughter would directly harm Gareth, but she might take it into her head to have him brought to Denerim, where there could indeed be individuals who might imagine that putting the Queen's little brother aside might please her. It was not like Anora would pay him even as much attention as she did Rhoswyn.
"Besides," Morrigan tossed her head to prove her utter indifference to sentiment. "There are a number of books in the Highever library that intrigued me on our brief visit, and that I wish to have time to study in their entirety. I shall find the holiday very agreeable."
"Won't you miss Anders?" Maude asked carefully.
Morrigan's yellow eyes flashed like summer lightning. "He is not my husband, nor am I his bond-slave. I can go where I like and do as I please," She sneered. "I shall pack my gowns and be ready to sail with the rest of you!" She swept out, Loghain swore, more impressively than any queen.
Maude bit her lip, trying not to laugh.
"Anders must have proposed marriage again. It always puts her in a snit. She doesn't want to be 'bound down.' She thinks it's horrible. I think she wants to teach him a lesson about attempting to 'proscribe her freedoms by referencing patriarchal conventions of female subservience.' Of course I think a lot of that is Flemeth talking. No doubt whatever she told Morrigan about life with Bann Conobar Elstan was enough to put anybody off marriage forever."
Loghain thought Maude was probably right. Then too, it was very comforting to have all that magical power watching over his son. "I'll send two of the newest recruits with her, and she can order them about as she likes. People will just have to get used to the idea of mages leading Warden patrols. Besides, no one would believe that anyone, other than the two of us, could command Morrigan."
Their stop in Highever was very brief and very distressing, particularly for Maude. Loghain told Fergus and Cauthrien what had happened, and what they knew about this bizarre cult, which was not much, other than that they would be back if they were not destroyed.
Morrigan was greeted in a very friendly way by Fergus, who clearly thought she was a damned fine woman; and politely by Cauthrien, who understood how useful in a fight Morrigan could prove. Morrigan and her assistants were given pleasant accommodations, in the corridor outside the family quarters. The cover story, that the Wardens were investigating a possible Deep Roads entrance in Highever, was told to the Teyrn and his Teyrna.
"A lie, of course," Loghain explained. "Nothing on our maps indicates that there is any access to the Deep Roads in all Highever, but it's a reason for Morrigan to be here."
"I hope to make good use of your library, nonetheless," Morrigan remarked.
Fergus gave her a courteous bow. "By all means."
Cauthrien was very interested in Gareth: far more so than in hearing the story of the dwarven ghouls. She smiled, uncommonly relaxed and cheerful, and delighted in pointing out how much Gareth resembled his father.
That was enough to get a slight smile from Maude, unhappy as she was.
"The King noticed it too. He told the queen that Gareth scowls just like Loghain!"
Fergus' old room was being used as the nursery. Little Caradoc was sitting up now, and was very inquisitive about the new little addition. Maude picked up her nephew and looked him over with some excitement.
"He has Father's grey eyes and Mother's pointed chin! What a sweet boy!"
Caradoc, for a lad who had raised such a noise at his naming, seemed a good-tempered baby. If nothing else, Gareth would be among friends and family, and his ties to them could only be strengthened by this situation.
When the next morning dawned, and it came to actually leaving Gareth, Maude burst into tears. Loghain wondered if he should encourage her to stay, but the storm passed, and Fergus hugged his sister, while Cauthrien reassured her.
"I have more milk than Caradoc wants," Cauthrien said, a rock of calm certainty. "And if Gareth needs more, we'll hire a wetnurse. Highever is full of nursing mothers. It's no trouble at all."
"If the King and Queen want Gareth brought to Denerim, don't let them have him," Maude said bluntly, wiping her face. "Lie to them; make up anything you like. I don't want them getting their hands on Gareth. Alistair will feed him stinky cheese, and Anora will expect him to sit on the Council."
Fergus shot Loghain a concerned look. Loghain said, "We would very much prefer that Gareth stay with his aunt and uncle. And we don't expect to be gone very long."
"Onyx will stay, too," said Maude. " He loves Gareth, and he'll be company for Ears."
Cauthrien's mabari seemed quite all right with the presence of her littermate. Two mabaris would in themselves provide formidable protection for the children.
How long would they be gone abroad? Loghain had no idea. They had to find this "secret prison," and then find a way in. They had to kill lunatic dwarven ghouls, and some sort of talking darkspawn. They would be in a place that was not Ferelden. It was all going to be very disagreeable.
This time, they sailed out of sight of land. Loghain found that alone to be disturbing. He knew there was land on the other side of the Waking Sea, but he had never seen it for himself. Maude had, and he supposed he would have to trust her. The ship was not moving at its best speed in the warm and languid breeze. Nonetheless, they could expect to be in Kirkwall the following day.
In the late afternoon, they saw a sail on the horizon. This grew in size, and became a galley closing in on them. Captain Winters alerted the Wardens and the crew, and they stood ready to repel boarders. Maude brightened considerably at the prospect, bouncing on the balls of her feet, fingering her sword, looking forward to swinging onto the enemy ship on a rope. Loghain thought that idea ridiculously flamboyant, when having the mages launch fireballs would be a far more workmanlike tactic.
However, nothing came of it. The ship came close enough to see their Grey Warden standard, and then abruptly veered off.
"Chickenshits," Maude sulked, pounding the rail. "Come back here, you cowards!"
Ambrose laughed. "Well, it would be incredibly stupid to pick a fight with Grey Wardens. No guarantee of plunder, and a strong likelihood of death! Besides," he turned to Maude, grinning. "Word is probably out who owns this ship."
Loghain snorted, amused in spite of himself.
Maude made a face, still disappointed. "I wanted to say 'Arrrrgh!"
A red sunset glowed in the sky and sea, and the darkening firmament revealed a dome of stars; stars subtly shifted from the positions Loghain had always known. Clavius the Spike, the Southern Star, was lower in the sky, its blue-white glory somewhat dimmed; part of the Plough had fallen out of sight. This was contrary to all good order, but there was little Loghain could do about the heavens, even if he thought them poorly arranged in these foreign latitudes.
"Look, Loghain!" murmured Maude, coming up beside him, and laying a gentle hand on his forearm. "To the north, just above the horizon. That's Bellator. In the old tales, its rising was the signal for the Tevinter archons to launch their spring campaigns. How red it looks!"
Over time, Loghain had read and heard many references to the Warrior Star, but he had never seen it for himself. It was not visible in Ferelden. Here, one could just see it, resting on the sea, a bright point of orange-red, flickering balefully. They were headed straight for it. That struck Loghain as rather ominous.
"Is it really a proper star?" he wondered. "Stars are white or sometimes yellow. I've never seen any that color."
"It's a northern star," Maude said. "Languages and food are different in the north. It only makes sense that their stars are different, too. Though that's the only one that's supposed to be that vivid red. That's why the Tevinters of old made a big deal about it, I suppose."
She looked uncomfortable, with her arms folded across her chest.
"Are you all right?"
"Not at all," she confessed. "I'm missing Gareth horribly, and my breasts hurt. If I felt any worse, I'd moo like an unmilked cow!"
That was something he could deal with, and he carried her off to their comfortable little cabin, to lick her wounds, so to speak. She was much happier afterwards.
By the following afternoon, they saw land due north: a scattering of rocky little islands, and behind them a dull gray haze.
"The Wounded Coast," Maude told Loghain, pointing.
"Are the islands inhabited?"
"By goats. My pirate friend Isabela told me that there's no safe anchorage by most of them, and no fresh water to speak of. And only bandits or worse inhabit the Coast itself. A lot of Tal-Vashoth who deserted the Arishok's forces hid there after the shipwreck. All in all, it's a very nasty place, and the Viscount's done nothing to keep the peace out there. Occasionally the city guard sends out a patrol, but not often enough to really make the Coast Road safe. It's great for the ship owners, though. The only possible trading routes to Cumberland or Ostwick are all by sea. Maybe they've paid off the Viscount, but I think it's just his usual incompetence."
They ate a hearty breakfast: porridge with honey, bread and sausage and cheese, and cider to drink. Then they all accoutered themselves in their finest and most official garb. Loghain and Maude had their Archdemon armor, and even the newest recruits had good griffon-embroidered tunics. They were here as Grey Wardens. They were here to complete their mission and go home as soon as possible. Loghain wanted no interference from Viscount, Chantry, Qunari, or city guard.
Shadows fell on them as they entered the mouth of the harbor: the huge fissure in the cliffs, made by magic long ago, when Kirkwall was called Emerius. Lining the stone bluffs on either side were the colossal bronze statues of slaves: anguished, tortured, smothering their wails into their enormous hands. Loghain felt ill, as he always did when he remembered the worst thing he had ever done.
It had made perfect sense at the time to sell the elves to the Tevinters. Caladrius had been so persuasive; Howe had seemed so reasonable. Loghain had felt he was only doing what was necessary, and the best and safest thing for the elves themselves.
Now, of course, it appeared to him to have been a kind of madness, and Howe had been as mad as Loghain himself. It was a shame and a disgrace, and it could never be undone, but Loghain often puzzled over it. Now these terrible images recalled his own dishonor.
He could not help those innocents he had harmed; but he had resolved to treat elves with respect, and to deal in future with any slavers in a summary fashion. It was best not even to speak to them. And he certainly did not want to talk about his own dealings in the trade.
The cliffs towered over them. The forts on the heights seemed formidable and impressively equipped. Loghain wondered if he could inspect them during this visit. How had the Qunari penetrated into the inner harbor? The Kirkwallers should have been able to repel the Imperial fleet itself.
The water grew still, and the scene enlarged: before them were the docks, and behind them hulking towers and fortifications. Kirkwall was not only old: it was big. Far bigger than Denerim, certainly, especially if one included Darktown, the underground warrens below the city proper.
Bethany joined them on the port side, looking very impressive in her mail-and-leather armor embossed with the griffon sigil.
"That the Gallows," she told Loghain. "And that part of it—" She jerked her chin, a frown creasing her brow. "—is where they lock up the mages."
"Nobody's going to bother you," Maude promised. "You or Ambrose, either. Let Knight-Commander Meredith just try it. Useless cow."
Bethany shook her head. "She's very good at grinding down the mages she has under lock and key. Perhaps she's not good for much else, but she can do that."
Loghain sensed her fear. "No Templar has any right to hinder you, trouble you, or accost you. If one does, we'll deal with the situation."
Bethany bit her lip. "This isn't Ferelden, you know."
"I do know," Loghain growled. "These aren't my fellow countrymen. I don't owe them anything."
"That is so true!" Maude agreed, pleased at the idea. "Except for our friends and relations. That's a separate matter. Oh, look! People are pointing at us. They must have seen the Grey Warden emblem and the Fereldan pennant below it. And they have spyglasses trained on us. Somebody will go tattling to the Viscount, I daresay. He'll probably want to talk to us."
"I don't want to talk to him," Loghain grunted.
"It's his sandbox," Maude pointed out. "We'll have to play nicely. Maybe we'll get a free dinner out of it."
It took some time to dock. The Wardens crowded to the rail to see the sights. By the time they were settling into their berth, a very large crowd had gathered, gawking and pointing impudently at the Wild Wyvern. There were vendors moving through the crowd, crying their wares.
"Are those rats on sticks?" Loghain asked. "I'm not going to eat those."
"It's chicken," Maude assured him. "Chicken...parts." She shrugged. "Mostly."
"Some of them are rats," Bethany said darkly. "Poor people in Kirkwall eat rats all the time."
Valentine said, "I'm told they're not bad with hot sauce."
"Loghain doesn't eat spicy food," Maude whispered. "It's not Fereldan."
"Is this some sort of festival in Kirkwall?" Loghain wondered, pointedly ignoring Maude's remark. "Why is this mob here?"
Bethany laughed. "They're here to see you, Loghain! You're famous, you know. Dragonslayer, Hero, Living Legend, and all that. Everybody's heard about the Archdemon armor, and quite of few of them must have recognized Maude already. It's perfectly obvious who you are."
Loghain grimaced, and put on his helmet, hoping to hide his bemusement. Why would foreigners be interested in him? He was not at all interested in them.
A big, handsome man, a mabari at his heels, was shoving through the press, waving at the ship. With him were some others, also pushing people out of their way: a brawny dwarf in a long leather coat; an uncommonly tall elf, wearing a greatsword on his back; and a raffishly good-looking human woman, whose dark skin proclaimed her a Rivainni.
"Adam!" Bethany shrieked. She grabbed Ambrose's arm. "It's Adam! He's all right!"
"Which one's Adam, now?" Ambrose asked, deadpan. "The dwarf or the elf? Ow!"
"Don't tease," Bethany elbowed him again. "That's your cousin. My brother Adam Hawke. That's Fenris, and that's Isabela, and that's—"
"Varric!" Maude called, waving madly.
"Princess!" The dwarf grinned, arms flung wide in welcome.
Loghain scowled. More of Maude's friends. Well, he had survived Maude's friends before, in the days of the Blight. He supposed he could survive this motley crew as well.
Thanks to my reviewers: Tyanilth, Enaid Aderyn, Phygmalion, EpitomyofShyness, Tikigod784, sizuka2, KnightOfHolyLight, Jyggilag, ByLanternLight, Judy, Rexiselic, anon, Zute, hyperfuzzy, Isabeau of Greenlea, Granoc , Jenna53, Josie Lange, Anime-StarWars-fan-zach, tgcgoddess, JackOfBladesX, kdarnell2, mille libri, Shakespira, Mike3207, Kira Kyuu, sn0w0wl, Angurvddel, Tsu Doh Nimh, maudlinsarcasma, Psyche Sinclar, mastigo.