The Keening Blade
Chapter 48: Return of the Native Fereldan
"Did you see his face?" Maude exulted, striking a triumphant pose on Adam Hawke's dining table. "Completely taken by surprise! Bet that had never happened to him in all his thousand years!"
Even in its last stages, as the guests flamed out gently into insensibility, the celebratory dinner thrown by Hawke was a night to remember. Nineteen people at dinner counted as a serious event, and the servants at the Hawke mansion were hard-pressed to throw it together in a single day.
Nineteen rather than fifteen, since Hawke was generous enough to invite the Tantervale Wardens.
After the too-long deferred demises of Corypheus and Larius, the Wardens and their friends had gone back to retrieve Janeka and all the nice bits of treasure they had been forced to leave behind while fighting.
Janeka was loaded onto her Second Ranulph's back, still unconscious. The embarrassed Ranulph, thus burdened, revealed to them the shortcuts and hidden passages that Larius and Janeka had used to bypass them. They moved quickly through the maze at the base of the tower, and quicker still up the well-worn staircases to the outer fortress. There were a lot of dead bodies, and a pleasant absence of live ones.
The strongrooms were plundered and the gold burned clean. They stepped out in the blazing desert sun of the Vimmark Chasm, and Loghain swore to himself that he would never travel to the sunny north in late spring ever again.
Their wagon guards, wonder of wonders, were still there and still alive. Loghain paid them a substantial bounty, and they turned their faces in the direction of Kirkwall. Janeka slept off Corypheus' spell in the back of the wagon. Their treasure would be shared out on their return, but the Tantervale Wardens would have nothing to do with that.
Nonetheless, they could have dinner with them. Maude had particularly wanted it, since she looked upon it as a chance to pump them for information. A lot of what she ended up getting was local Warden post infighting and politicking, which was of interest only to the Tantervale Wardens themselves.
"I wish they'd tell us something interesting!" she whispered to Loghain. "What do I care who gets to be recruit supervisor?"
Janeka was not talking much. She was terribly embarrassed about being the puppet of a thousand-year-old magister who was not even awake at the time. She had gruffly given thanks to Loghain, and shot a glare at Maude, who loftily ignored her.
But Loghain was hearing enough to make up his mind. Yes, it was just business as usual: the Tantervale Wardens were a hide-bound lot. They did their periodic training patrols, they recruited just enough to cover their losses, and they waited for the next Blight, during which they would do just as little as they had done recently.
"You know how it was," the Warden named Theo said to Valentine. "We had our orders. The First Warden believed that the Archdemon would strike at some more important or heavily-populated area. We were all to stand fast until we knew the real target. The rest of Thedas was safe. The darkspawn couldn't cross the Waking Sea, and they'd have to go through all of Orlais to harm anyone else. Besides, the Fereldans made clear that they didn't want our help."
"Excuse me," Maude said, unable to ignore him any longer. "Just how did I indicate that I didn't want any help? Because it was mostly just me and Alistair for about a year. I didn't even know there was a Grey Warden outpost in Tantervale. A hint that you existed would have been nice."
"The Warden-Commander of Orlais said—"
"Don't!" Maude snarled at him. She sat back in her chair, glaring. "Just…don't. Can the rest of Thedas not get it through their heads that Orlais is our enemy? They will always screw us over whenever possible. They do not speak for us. Bastards."
Janeka spoke up then, unexpectedly and grudgingly. "There are many Orlesian Wardens in Weisshaupt. The First Warden's seneschal and his private secretary are both Orlesian. Everything he hears and reads is filtered through them. Sometimes there are…difficulties."
"That's interesting," Loghain remarked. "That clears up quite a lot of questions."
It did. It did not excuse the First Warden, who was responsible for the order, even if his greatest care was for the politics of the Anderfels. Nonetheless, much was explained. The First Warden's knowledge of Ferelden was an Orlesian's, and a hostile Orlesian's, at that.
"We should not be discussing private Warden matters," complained Vickery, "Not with…" he waved a hand toward Hawke and company, "them listening."
"Who?" Maude wondered. "People?"
"Personally," Hawke said, his charming smile souring, "I do not give a shit about what the Wardens are up to. I really could not care less. Furthermore, I promise I won't remember a word of any of this tomorrow, partly due to the excellence of the wine that I have put on this table—"
"For which we thank you," Maude interjected, pouring herself yet more.
"—And mostly because to anyone not a Warden," Hawke continued. "Warden politics are really boring. I am interested only so far as it affects my family, and no further."
Loghain personally thought that the darkspawn were of vital importance to every living being in Thedas, but Hawke was his host, after all, and he had not the least intention of conscripting him.
It was late, and the Tantervale Wardens struggled out of their chairs and left for their rooms at a Hightown tavern. Once again, they formally thanked Loghain for saving them and the rest of the world from the threat of an ancient evil. They took Loghain's official letter with them, though they were uneasy about how their Commander would like it. After Janeka was out the door, the Warden named Theo turned and whispered to Valentine, "I'll write to you and let you know what happens!"
"Say hello to Godfrey for me!" Valentine whispered back.
"Again, Warden-Commander, my thanks!"
The door shut on them. and the rest went back to eating and drinking.
"So, Princess," Varric said to Maude, changing the subject. "What are your plans for the rest of your holiday in our fair city?"
"We doing our best to avoid having plans," Maude laughed, her good nature restored. "But I think we'd like to dress unobtrusively and see more of the city."
Loghain was blunt. "I'm interested in your defenses, especially at the harbor," he said. He was too tired and too full of wine to dance around the truth. "I want to get some idea why you couldn't keep the Qunari out. I'd like a better look at the outside of their compound, too. Maude wants to get into the Circle and steal things. And," he added, "your Viscount has asked me to call on him before our departure. Which should be the day after tomorrow."
"So soon?" Valentine mourned. "There's so much to see here!"
"Reckon we should hit up the Blooming Rose tomorrow," Darrow advised Kain in a confidential growl. Osbeck nodded sagely. Oghren cackled. Hereward glanced their way, wistfully hopeful.
"What do you want to steal at the Circle?" Hawke asked Maude, leaning around a sleeping Isabela.
"Books, mostly. I also want to look at Meredith's correspondence, and see if our friend Wynne is mentioned. She vanished at that mage's conference in Cumberland and no one will tell anybody anything. If I find out that she's been a prisoner of the Circle here, I'm going to be really, really irritated."
"We could look for phylacteries, too," Ambrose suggested. "Hard to guess where they keep them. Might be at the Circle, might be in the Chantry itself."
"Phylacteries!" Maude thumped the table. "If I had the time I'd do a thorough search for them. It seems scandalous that we permit the Chantry to keep performing blood magic! It's very wrong of them. If I find them I'll destroy them—just as I did the phylacteries in the blood mage hideout in Denerim!"
Fenris scowled, and tried to focus. "You had blood mages in Denerim?"
Maude made an expansive gesture. "A huge coven of them! They had incredibly plush digs below the surface, with banqueting halls and a nice bar and comfy bedrooms. And kennels for their evil mabari minions and even nice dormitories for their dutiful blood mage apprentices. Quite the complex. They had a chapel full of phylacteries—which we smashed, of course, and a haughty foreign mage was in charge. He thought he was all that, but I killed him just the same. After the battle of Denerim, we found a few darkspawn hiding there and cleaned the place out, but I didn't linger."
Fenris' interest had been caught by the story. "What do you suppose they wanted in Denerim?"
Maude considered. "Considering all the phylacteries, I'd say they were there to control people."
"Who?"
Loghain began to feel very uncomfortable: a crawling tickled up his spine and ruffled the back of his neck. There had been other blood mages, too: Caladrius and his "healers" who had infested the Alienage. Somehow Caladrius had managed to convince him—Loghain—that selling Fereldan elves to Tevinter was a Good Idea. It obviously was a very bad one, but at the time Caladrius had made it seem so perfectly reasonable. Rendon Howe had thought so too…
"That oily-bearded bastard!" he roared, pushing away from the table. A roasted chicken fell to the floor. The dogs were on it in a second.
"Oh, dear," Maude sighed. "I think we'd better call it a night, Hawke. Something distressing just occurred to Loghain." She patted his arm. "It's in the past, dearest, and all those blood mages are dead. Yes, they were probably all working together, busily looting Fereldan six ways from sunrise, while we were all distracted by the Blight and the war. Yes, probably one of those phylacteries was yours—it's easy enough to get hold of a warrior's blood to do him harm. But they're dead, so they can't gloat about sticking their nasty magical fingers in your mind."
Fenris did not understand the context, but looked compassionately at Loghain.
"Not all Blood Mages are wicked," Merrill objected, in a very small voice. "It's all a matter of intent…"
"Now's not the time, Daisy," counseled Varric. The little elf slid back into her chair, delicate face miserable.
The party broke up, and the Wardens headed back to their temporary digs. Fenris, who, Maude informed Loghain, squatted in the mansion of his former master, came with them, as the place was quite close to theirs.
The street opened out to the huge square in front of the Chantry. Seen by moonlight, it still looked monumental. Loghain wondered idly if he should go inside tomorrow, just to see it. He had heard it was rather grand. He shrugged. If there was time, perhaps. Anora might like to hear about it.
They turned and climbed the broad and shallow stone steps that led up to the most exclusive part of Hightown. Fenris bade them goodnight and turned left toward the decaying façade of his home. A few minutes later, the ten Wardens were near the dark doorway bearing the sigil of House Tethras, when a hooded and cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows.
"Please don't start anything with us," Maude said, her kind tones a bit sleepy. "We'll just have to kill you, which won't do you a bit of good."
"Ah, my fair Warden, you could have killed me years ago, and yet you did not. Why start now?"
"Is it—? Zevran?" Maude shrieked, launching herself at the grinning elf. Ranger barked, sniffed the newcomer carefully, and then politely wagged his tail. Not a stranger, and one who had given treats in the past.
Loghain watched the reunion, rather appalled. The Antivan assassin had just oozed his way back into their lives.
"Old friend, I reckon," Darrow observed to his companions.
Windows around the square were opening at the noise, so Maude hustled her friend inside and began asking eager questions.
Zevran put up his hands, "It is late, I know. Word came to me that you were in Kirkwall. I have come here every night hoping to see you, but then you were away on a visit to the countryside—or so I was told."
Loghain snorted at the words. Visits to the countryside evoked pictures of cheerful rustic manors and boar hunts; fields of ripening grain and meadows of placid sheep. Their adventure to a crumbling, demon-haunted fortress in the middle of the Maker-forsaken desert did not quite match the words "visit to the countryside." Though perhaps that was what Antiva looked like, for all Loghain knew.
"More dogs?" Zevran said, backing away slightly from Topaz's suspicious examination. "Ah, how I have missed Ferelden!"
Oghren greeted the elf with cross-eyed good cheer. He was, after all, exceptionally drunk.
"It's the elf!" he said, puzzled. "He's back!"
"Hello, my stout little friend!" Zevran greeted him, slapping his back. "I'd remember the smell anywhere!"
"No uncalled-for racial remarks," Loghain ordered. "It's late. Wardens—this is Zevran Aranai, formerly of the Blight Companions. Darrow, find Zevran a bunk."
"Have you had dinner?" Maude asked anxiously. "There's quite a bit in the pantry…"
"My Warden, I am fine," the handsome elf assured her. "I am not alone in the city and must leave soon, lest my companions become alarmed. While it is indeed late, it is best that I tell you my business in Kirkwall now, for it is an affair better conducted in darkness."
Loghain rolled his eyes, but there was no help for it. "All right. We'll hear you out. Wardens, go to bed. Zevran, come to the library."
"I'll make some tea," said Maude, "It might help me stay awake. We've had a pretty strenuous time in the Vimmarks, Zevran."
The fireplace in the study had a gadget for holding a tea kettle. Maude put some water on the boil, and then dashed to the pantry to bring them some fruit and little cakes. The dogs, reassured that Zevran was a suitable guest, flopped on the incredibly expensive Antivan silk carpet in the library and went promptly to sleep. Topaz's head was on Zevran's boot. He carefully moved his foot away.
"We have wine, if you'd prefer," Maude said, settling into a cushioned chair.
"I am quivering in the anticipation of once again tasting Highever Honeygrass tea," Zevran smiled. "It has been too long."
While Maude played hostess, Loghain cut to the heart of things. "What has brought you to Kirkwall—and to us?"
"Ah, Loghain…ever the laconic man of action. No pleasantries? No, 'How have you been, Zevran?' No?"
"How have you been, Zevran?" asked a smiling Maude, handing him a teacup.
"I am well. Life has not ceased to be complicated, however." He took a careful sip of tea. "And you? You are well? I am pleased to see that you remain amongst the most beautiful women of my acquaintance."
"I am wonderfully well, thank you. I had a baby in Drakonis." Seeing Zevran's raised, interested brow, she told him. "His name is Gareth, and he is the sweetest boy in the world, and I would never, never have left him, if we hadn't had to deal with some impudent people who attacked us. That's why we plan to leave Kirkwall the day after tomorrow, or as soon as the ship is ready."
Zevran considered her words. "You are leaving Kirkwall…and soon. That would work well."
Maude beamed, delighted. "You're coming back to Ferelden with us? I want you to see Gareth…I want you to see what we've done with Soldier's Peak. It's gorgeous!"
The elf sighed. "No, alas. I cannot." He smiled ruefully at Maude's disappointment. "My affairs with the Crows are not yet settled, and I took time from them to deal with the matter that brought me south. Originally, I believed that I would indeed have to sail to Ferelden, but now that you are here, the affair can be managed in a much more efficient fashion. You have your own ship, I have learned."
Loghain narrowed his eyes at the debonair assassin. "You want us to smuggle something into Ferelden for you."
"It is not a matter of 'what' so much as 'whom,'" said Zevran. "but smuggle? Yes, I want you to smuggle someone out of the Free Marches," His smile broadened as Loghain's frown deepened. "An old friend, in fact. I could not believe it when I came across her in the city of Bastion. She was much changed, and in the simplest of garb, but I could not forget the divine and magical bosom of—"
"Wynne!" Maude cried. "You've found her? She's here?"
"Calmatevi, my Warden! Be calm. She is safe for now, in the filthy rathole they call Darktown, but the Templars are everywhere in this miserable place. The ship I bought passage on was supposed to go to Amaranthine, but there was a storm, and we put in at Ostwick, and then when we were underway, I discovered that the captain found it convenient to take valuable cargo to Kirkwall first. By then, our money was running low, and there were those who were watching us. The reward for informing on apostates is always a pleasant sum," he added with a bitter smile. "We thought it wise to depart from the ship one night when it put in at a village on the coast for fresh water. The journey, not to make a long story of it, was perilous and disagreeable. We managed to slip into the city, since here we would not be set upon by wild beasts, but the people are in some ways just as bad."
"Why didn't she come with you tonight?" Loghain asked. He and Wynne were hardly friends, but Anora liked her, and it would be a very good thing for the royal family to have such an excellent Healer in attendance. Besides, he was inclined to be helpful, now that he knew that the Crow would not be coming to Ferelden, to revive the nasty gossip his handsome appearance and friendship with Maude had previously occasioned.
Zevran grimaced. "We are not alone. There are others in her party, and she remained to protect them. When the Starkhaven Circle burned, the mages fled and dispersed all over the Free Marches. Some of them…were children. Wynne could not desert the little ones, and would not stay to see them fall victim to the Right of Annulment. The Templars of Starkhaven were very, very angry."
Mage children. There was a complication, indeed. Surely the children would not be harmed if they were taken to the Circle here in Kirkwall? Or… perhaps that was not a solution. He pictured Knight-Commander Meredith's stony, implacable face in his mind's eye. Perhaps not.
"Darktown, Darktown…" Maude muttered to herself, getting up and pacing. "Bethany told me about the Hawke mansion. There's a way through the cellars that connects to Darktown. It would be quicker and safer than going through the streets to Lowtown and then to the tunnels. Then it's not far from Hawke's house to ours."
Loghain downed his tea, hoping it would clear his head. If they were going to fetch Wynne, they should do it immediately.
"Just how many children are there?"
Zevran tried to look innocent. Loghain would have laughed if he had not been so tired.
"Er….five. And for that reason, if I may, I shall take along some of these delicious treats. They will be hungry." The elf produced a net bag from a pocket, and began cramming the cakes and fruit into it.
It could have been worse. It could have been twenty-five. Five children were not impossible to deal with, even mage children, given that they had mages to keep watch on them.
"All right. Let's go."
"I'll get Bethany," Maude said. "Her brother is less likely to be annoyed if she's in the party."
"Someone needs to know that we're going out," Loghain told Zevran.
He stopped by the men's quarters to wake Darrow, and tell him the plan. Darrow staggered up to keep watch at the door, fortified by a large mug of tea.
They waited while Maude ran upstairs to the room Bethany was sharing with Thanyra. It took a few minutes. Bethany came downstairs, looking tired, but not half-unconscious.
"I used a rejuvenation spell on myself," she told Loghain. "Anybody else want one?"
Everyone did.
Hawke was not easily roused, but they knew where his bedroom window was, and Maude tossed pebbles at it until he looked out, rumpled and enraged.
"Do you know what time it is?"
"No, not really," Maude admitted cheerfully. "But we need to talk to you. Emergency."
So the big front door was unbolted, and they piled in, demanding the keys to the cellars from a half-naked Hawke. In a few moments Zevran was introduced and the tale was told. Isabela swaggered down the stairs, clad only in a sheet, which was draped with a cynical subversion of modesty.
"Isabela!" cried Zevran. "This is indeed a night of nights!"
"It was, until people interrupted," Isabela shrugged. "Hullo, Zevran. Haven't seen you since Denerim. You look," she winked, "fit."
"Isabela!" Hawke remonstrated.
"No lovers' quarrels, if that's quite all right with you, " Loghain interposed. "We just want to get to Darktown by the shortest, most secret way and retrieve an old companion."
"Not as young as she once was," Zevran agreed with some sincerity. "The past year has been difficult for her."
"I'd better go with you," Hawke said. "I'll throw on my gear and get the cellar key."
"If he goes, I go!" Isabela declared, still a bit drunk. "If I can find my left boot," she added under her breath. She ran up the stairs after her lover, giving them a clear and unimpeded view of her admirable behind, and just as she got to the doorway of the Hawke's bedchamber, she abandoned the sheet altogether.
Zevran sighed. "Ah, the remembrance of things past…"
Loghain hoped there would not be trouble. "You knew Isabela during the Blight, then?"
"Loghain, my friend," declared Zevran, "I knew Isabela long before the Blight. It is I who rescued her from a serious inconvenience!"
"What inconvenience?" Bethany asked.
"A very unpleasant husband," Zevran confessed. "What? It is not as if she had any say in her marriage. Her mother sold her to that pig, and she wished to free, like anyone else! I did not find her ungrateful."
Maude, of course, came to the elf's defense at once. "I'm sure you did not. It was very considerate of you."
Loghain gritted his teeth. Zevran had always been a terrible influence on Maude.
Luckily, Hawke could arm himself quickly, and Isabela wore so little that she was downstairs beside him directly. Soon they were exploring Hawke's kitchen and pantries. Here Hawke passed out some lanterns, and lit them with flint and tinder. Then they moved quietly past the servants' sleeping quarters. Beyond that was a heavy iron-shod door that Hawke unlocked with a huge key. This led past more doors, one of which was obviously a treasure-vault. Maude's speculative gaze slid over it, and she grinned at Loghain.
He frowned at her repressively. They were not going to steal from allies. They had already made a great deal of coin of this journey.
Down some creaking stairs, they found storerooms: a huge multi-leveled maze of them. As they passed through, Maude kept up a running commentary, telling Zevran the story of the past year and a half.
"Alistair and Anora have a little girl—Princess Rhoswyn. She's a darling little girl, and Alistair's a ridiculously doting parent. My brother Fergus married Ser Cauthrien! Yes! And they have a little boy named Caradoc and Loghain was godfather. And my little Gareth is Teyrn of Gwaren, and I'm his Regent, which is lots of fun. Leliana went off with Riordan. He died not long ago, and Leliana stayed in Orlais and has joined the order of the Seekers, even though she's a Grey Warden, and I'm not happy about that."
"And the magnificent Morrigan?" the elf asked.
"Oh, she's as magnificent as ever, and still with us. She's in Highever, right now, keeping an eye on Gareth while we're gone. She has a lover—a Grey Warden mage named Anders, and she keeps him up to the mark, I can tell you! And we met some darkspawn who could talk, and we killed them, but they were pretty startling. And I've completely renovated Soldier's Peak, and it's gorgeous. Oghren is a Grey Warden, too, as I'm sure you noticed, and he's married and his little girl was named after me!"
"So why are you in Kirkwall in the first place?" Zevran wanted to know.
"Crazy Grey Warden business. Some ghouls attacked one of our people and we had to root out the problem at the source. And we did."
They came to a series of long, cobwebbed halls that eventually led down more stairs and toward another heavy door. Hawke unlocked it, and they found themselves in dim light.
"Careful," Hawke said. "There's a lot of rubble and refuse here. I don't clear it away because it camouflages the door."
Raising his lantern and wrinkling his nose, Loghain followed his host carefully through the narrow passage; stepping over unsavory heaps and rotting piles, ducking under sagging beams. The close air stank of damp and human waste. He stepped out into a wider, low-ceilinged space. Voices echoed along the moisture-stained corridors. The light revealed rickety staircases leading up and down past rough stone pillars. To one side, Loghain saw that part of the walls did not reach the ceiling. In the gap, the dim light of a crescent moon leaked through, helping them find their way.
This then, was Darktown, and a wretched place it was.
Impossible to pass unnoticed. Ragged people were squatting around smoky little fires in nearly every corner. Rat turned on spits—some of them not very well skinned or gutted beforehand. Sunken eyes peered at them from dirty, hungry faces, and now and then their lantern light was reflected in a knife blade. No one dared attack such a well-armed party, but their presence was noted, and clearly resented.
It took a bit of effort for Zevran to orient himself to this part of Darktown, since he was entering it from an unfamiliar direction. Hawke and Isabela, however, knew Darktown well, and in no time they were heading down a narrow passage, around a sharp bend, and into a foul-smelling passage. Before another turn, Zevran paused, and whispered, "Grandmother?"
Wynne's voice whispered, "Zathrian?"
"Zathrian!" snorted Maude. She grinned at the elf. "Zathrian. That's great."
Zevran shrugged elaborately. "I, too, am a leader of my people."
"Maude?" Wynne's face appeared around the corner, shadowy and fearful. "Is that you?"
There were squeaks and rustles behind her.
"It's me," Maude answered. "And some friends. And Ze…Zathrian's got treats for everyone."
They stepped around the wall and found themselves in a little hideyhole of a room, rough-boarded and decaying. It was dimly illuminated by a pair of candle stubs. Their own lanterns cast wild and complex patterns of light on the interior.
Loghain took in the occupants with a swift glance. Three of the children were quite young: no more than five. There was a boy of perhaps eight, though he was too thin and wasted to be certain. Looking more closely, Loghain realized he was an elf, and thus probably a bit older than Loghain had first thought. A girl of twelve or thirteen stood in front of the other children, arms out protectively. She shrank back a bit at the sight of Loghain and Hawke, and swallowed convulsively; but set her jaw and did not move aside.
And Wynne was there, looking so different from her former self that Loghain almost did not recognize her. It was hard to tell, in the wavering light, but Wynne appeared to have grown notably older, her face thinner and more haggard. Her white hair, formerly so neatly pulled back from her face, had been shorn nearly to her scalp. Instead of her elaborate mage's robes, she was wearing the plain wool and linen of a commoner, very soiled and shabby. Loghain saw no staff, but there was a tall and heavy walking stick marked with some shallow carvings.
"Loghain," Wynne said flatly.
"Wynne," Loghain replied.
"Wynne!" Maude greeted her, with quiet warmth and a quick hug. "We're so happy to find you! We've written and written, and so did Alistair and Anora, but no one would tell us anything! You were at Starkhaven all the time. I'd guessed Cumberland or Kirkwall, and I was planning to get into the Circle and look for you here. And I see you have some apprentices with you!"
"Did you bring anything to eat?" a small girl asked Zevran rather plaintively.
"I did, little one." He produced his bag and shared out the apples, then smiled as they squealed over the cakes. Meanwhile, Maude introduced Wynne to the Hawkes.
"Bethany is a Grey Warden and a mage. Her brother Adam is a splendid warrior. This is Isabela, a sea captain from Rivain. I don't think you've met. She helped up us in Denerim during the blight. Now then, we can go up through Hawke's cellars to his house in Hightown, and then it's only a short walk to the place where we're staying. I presume you want to come back to Ferelden with us?"
Wynne said, restraining her anger with an effort, "I cannot leave the Free Marches too soon!"
"At last we agree about something," Loghain muttered. "Come, let's get out of here. Hawke, lead the way, and I'll follow behind."
"Come with us," Maude urged the children, in her sweetest voice. "You can come to our house, and in a day or two we'll take you with us when we go home."
"Children," Wynne hushed them, "be very, very quiet as you go. Templars patrol down here in Darktown even at night!"
That seemed to be enough to silence them completely, though two of the little ones struggled over the last cake. Zevran broke it in two and whispered. "There is more where that came from. Be swift and silent!"
They departed, still watched by scores of eyes. A pair of filthy drunkards by a fire awakened to the sound of so many feet, and loudly invited the women to join them for 'a bit of fun.'
Loghain gave them a burning glare, but did not let the fools distract him. One of the children shrank back, frightened, from the smell of the passage to Hawke's cellars, and another stumbled on the steps. Loghain was glad they had Bethany along, and wondered how Zevran and Wynne had managed to keep an eye on all the children. Probably the oldest girl had helped quite a bit.
Hawke and Isabela insisted on seeing the Wardens' guests safe to the door of their borrowed mansion. Bethany kissed her brother on the cheek, gave him some instructions, and promised to let him know the whole story, as soon as everyone had enough sleep.
Wynne had changed a great deal. Under the brighter lights in their mansion, Loghain noticed an x-shaped scar marring her right cheek. Her strength was clearly flagging, and she and the smaller children were put to bed in the unused parlor, with the help of the oldest girl, Lilia, who tended to Wynne like a fierce, black-eyed shadow.
"They need baths," Maude told Loghain in an undertone after she shut the parlor door, "but they're just too tired. I think Wynne is a wreck. Tomorrow. We'll clean them up and arrange proper beds for them. They've had a bad time. The elf boy's been whipped pretty savagely. He has marks from his shoulders to the backs of his thighs. I think Lilia was whipped, too, but she wouldn't let anyone see. I'm puzzled that with a Healer of Wynne's caliber that any of them would have scars. It could be that the Starkhaven Circle was run on rather different lines than Kinloch Hold—and that was quite bad enough!" She thought about it a little more. "We'll have to find them some decent clothes. We can dig around the storerooms here and see what there is."
The early risers found out about the new arrivals, and were extremely curious about them. Ambrose, of course, knew Wynne, though it took him a bit of time to see the Senior Enchanter in the gaunt, scarred face. Maude had left a note on the door of the parlor, apprising the Wardens of their guests, and abjuring them to let them sleep.
Varric arrived late in the morning, and by then nearly everyone but the youngest children were up. He was very interested to hear about the appearance of their old comrades. Tubs of water were heated, and Maude had pried into crates, cupboard, and trunks for anything that could do for the children.
"Sure," shrugged the dwarf. "Do what you want with the stuff. It's not like I'm planning on using my childhood wardrobe ever again!"
Hawke arrived too, and apparently Bethany had said something to him, for he provided clothing as well. For Wynne, there were some of his mother's things from the days after she had returned to prosperity: a nearly-new silk gown, suitable for an older woman, in a muted lavender; fine linen shifts and smallclothes; delicate stockings. Young Lilia would have to make do with a Tevinter-style dress belonging to Hawke's elven servant. Though it was small enough, it was obviously made to fit a mature woman. They would have to buy the child something more appropriate.
"I want to wear armor like Zevran!" Loghain heard the young voice protesting. He glanced into the chaos of the parlor where they had put their guests. One of the children was being bathed and was splashing half the water on the floor. Two naked little girls were running around screaming, while Wynne sat on the edge of her chair, head in her hands. The little elf boy was not to be seen. The eldest girl was seated on a footstool, clothed in her ill-fitting Tevinter dress, complaining bitterly as Maude fine-combed her wet hair.
"Leathers aren't a bad idea," Maude agreed judiciously, searching diligently for lice. "If we can find some your size, we'll get some. They last a long time. You'll still want a change."
"Then I want breeches! I don't want to be a girl!"
The littlest child, a boy, was expressing his outrage over soap in his eyes, and struggled in Bethany's grasp.
"Zevran! Zevran! Sa-a-a-a-ve me-e-e-!"
They were all going to set up a howl in a minute. Loghain put his head into the room and said, "Enough! Don't make me come in there!"
Bethany glanced up, and shook her finger at the little boy. "Behave! You heard the Commander!"
Instantly all the children were silent, huge eyes turned toward Loghain.
One little girl cowered behind a chair and peered up. "The Knight-Commander?" she quavered.
"No," Maude said instantly, her voice convincing. "The Warden-Commander. There are no Templars here."
"I'm glad," Lilia said fiercely. "Templars are scum!"
Somewhat to Loghain's surprise, Wynne did not utter a word of reproof or excuse. He might have begun asking questions, but at that moment Zevran appeared, much cleaner himself and far more cheerful.
"Come! There is a fine breakfast waiting for you!"
The two little girls ran to him, and he dressed them in clean shirts big enough to make do as smocks.
"Aren't you done yet, Maude?" Lila wailed.
"Almost. I'm going to comb a bit more of Ambrose's anti-lice potion through your hair and put it in a braid."
In short order, the little boy was lifted from the tub and dressed in dwarven finery. Wynne stirred herself and gently persuaded the elf boy—already bathed and dressed— to come out from under the table where he was hiding, and Zevran took the children along to the kitchen. Loghain remembered that it was Darrow and Kain's turn to make breakfast, so he suspected the menu would be heavy on the bacon. That, of course, was fine with him.
But before that, he and Maude needed to hear Wynne's story. It was even more depressing than he had anticipated.
The difference between the Fereldan Circle at Kinloch Hold and the Circle at Starkhaven, he discovered, was the difference between unhappy people and desperate people.
Wynne, though she admitted to some years of great unhappiness in Ferelden, had come to accept the Chantry's role in controlling mages, and under the leadership of First Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Greagoir, had eventually become a trusted and respected Senior Enchanter, permitted a great deal of personal freedom.
"I never saw blatant abuse of mages at the Circle," Wynne declared. "Never!" She saw Maude's skeptical expression, and went on. "Yes, some mages failed their Harrowings and perished. Yes, some mages were made Tranquil, but they were treated humanely and given their place in the world. But Starkhaven!" She shook her head, her face bitter. "I often wished I'd been sent to Orlais, which was the original plan when the College of Mages was arrested. I couldn't imagine it would have been as bad as Starkhaven. If the Knight-Commander hadn't been such a vicious fool, he would have seen it was bound to explode in his face, sooner or later!"
"And did it? Literally?" Maude asked, quite interested. "Explode in his face, I mean."
"The Templars openly used the mages for their sport," Wynne told her. "Rapes and beatings were common; even outright torture was permitted. Somehow it had all become completely toxic there. We were no better than slaves. First Enchanter Raddick cared only to protect himself and a few old cronies: the rest of us were fair game, and there was no appeal. The priests told us to prove our repentance by submitting ourselves to 'chastisment' without complaint. Even the children were not safe. Some of the Templars had a taste for them. Poor little Valandrion..."
Loghain understood that she was speaking of the elven boy.
"The best-looking boys and girls were chosen to be made Tranquil, for the Templars had set aside quarters for their toys. When they grew too old to be desirable, and had no other use, they were disposed of like animals. And there was no one to hold the Templars to account. Even Harrowed mages were made Tranquil, completely against the law. Templar recruits were either quickly corrupted, or transferred to hazardous duty."
She sighed, "Starkhaven is a terrible place, anyway. The ruling prince is a weakling, and is completely controlled by a cabal of nobles who are only interested in their own profits. As long as the Chantry keeps the mages quiet and controlled, they care nothing for what crimes are committed against them. In fact, they are not even considered crimes."
Loghain said, "I heard the Starkhaven Circle burned to the ground. There was an uprising?"
"You could call it that," Wynne said, a bit grudgingly. "It started out more as a...riot, I suppose. The Templars took two of the prettiest apprentices—a pair of twin girls— to be made Tranquil, and the girls had a tremendous magical outburst. They were quite powerful, anyway. The fire they started killed them, but it also killed the six Templars with them, and the blaze spread quickly. The apprentice dormitories were locked, but smoke drifted under the doors and there was a panic, with them all trying to escape. The doors were blown off their hinges and when the nearest Templars tried to smite them, they were literally trampled underfoot. The older students charged the outer doors and many of them were killed horribly, but Templars were killed too."
The fire spread quickly to the entire Circle and to other nearby buildings. The Templars were at first more concerned with their own survival than with catching or killing the mages. Wynne ran downstairs and found some of the youngest of the apprentices huddled in a corner of one of the dormitories. She had frozen the flames and admitted—reluctantly— that she had caused an outer wall to—collapse.
"Yes," Maude said calmly. "I know you have heaps of extra power when you really, really need it."
Wynne cast an uneasy look at Loghain. "I could not permit those children to be burned to death, if I could prevent it."
So they had fled, while fires raged in a city mad with fear. Wynne and her little fosterlings had found themselves at the banks of the great Minanter River, which flows through the city, and hidden themselves aboard a small boat. They had cut themselves loose from the dock and had drifted down the river for days, living on fish and river water. Everyone was sick, and Wynne had to heal the children and herself constantly. Now and then people took pity on them and gave them food or alms, but more often they were set upon by the lowest sort of bandits, and once, by slavers.
"But I am an experienced fighter," Wynne said quietly, "and Valandrion is becoming quite good at his primal spells. Of course, he's had plenty of practice."
"Not Lilia?" Maude asked, "She's got plenty of fight in her."
Wynne sighed. "Lilia has almost no magic at all. She was quite a hopeless student, I'm sorry to say. If she hadn't been startled by a priest into giving the woman a small shock while in Starkhaven Cathedral itself, she probably would never have been sent to the Circle. Sooner or later, she was destined to be made Tranquil, and she knew it. Of course, the Chantry has her phylactery and her name, and it's impossible to prove one is not a mage, once one is actually committed to a Circle. If I could get her somewhere safe, I think she could learn to control the little bit of magic she has so that she could live a fairly normal existence. It's been a constant struggle to maintain the lesson that none of them must ever, ever call upon a demon, no matter how frightened they are!"
They had found a deserted hunting cabin, and stayed there for nearly a month, before the owners made their appearance, and caused them to flee once more. At the mouth of the Minanter River they reached the city of Bastion. There, in a wretched tavern, Wynne recognized Zevran, and threw herself on his mercy.
"Of course, he had problems of his own, what with the Crows in the midst of some sort of private war. But he was good enough to buy passage for us to Amaranthine, even though that did not work out as we hoped. Zevran really," Wynne leaned forward to confide in Maude, "has many fine qualities, though he pretends he does not."
"I completely agree," Maude said. "He's a brave and faithful friend. Here's the plan. You and the children stay here and rest. We intend to leave in a few days—"
"Tomorrow, if possible," Loghain grunted.
Maude flashed him a smile. "—Some of it depends on what the Viscount says. We're supposed to see him this evening. When we're out today, we'll pick up some things for the children. Just stay out of sight, and we'll have you back in Ferelden before you know it!"
"I cannot leave too soon," Wynne said. "It is not safe in this city. We have made contact with other mages here, and I discovered that a Templar from Starkhaven—Ser Alrik—has come to serve at the Circle in Kirkwall. He is a dreadful man," she whispered. "I am not exaggerating when I call him a sadist. He...cut me," she said, touching the scar on her face. "And he said that if I healed it, he would replace it with the brand of the Tranquil. I believe if it were up to him, every mage in Starkhaven would have been made Tranquil. I think he has been spreading his ideas throughout the Free Marches, and now no mage is safe."
They had other things to talk about. Loghain assured Wynne that Anora had been safely delivered of a healthy and beautiful daughter—by Anders—and then Maude had to tell her about their own little boy. Loghain was unspeakably embarrassed when Wynne's eyes filled with tears and she hugged Maude. It was time to leave them to their moment of sentiment and see if any bacon was left.
By the time Maude and Wynne joined them at breakfast, Maude was smiling.
"I told you I meant to get into the Kirkwall Circle. Now I have yet another reason. I'd love to meet this Ser Alrik."
Thanks to my reviewers: Phygmalion, Aoi24, sizuka2, Kira Kyuu, KnighOfHolyLight, EpitomyofShyness, Judy, Zute, Mike3207, Jyggilag, Psyche Sinclair, JackOfBladesX, Oleander's One, Josie Lange, Jenna53, Anime-StarWars-fan-zach, Zahkespira, timunderwood9, Costin, Enaid Aderyn, Tsu Doh Nimh, Datenshi Aoi, kdarnell2, Tikigod784, and mille libri.
I've been communicating with other writers, notably Tsu Doh Nimh, about the significance of the blood mage coven in Denerim. All those phylacteries...it seems too coincidental that at the same time as this coven is in operation, Caladrius is persuading Loghain and Howe to commit a great crime. At the same time, Anora is curiously passive for such a strong-minded young woman, and most of the nobility is absolutely useless. A lot of the characters behave in apparently uncharacteristic ways from the beginning of the game. I'm playing with the idea that Caladrius was the front man for more than just the Alienage band of mages. The blood mages had a very strong and entrenched presence, and considering how much money they obviously had, it's not beyond credibility to presume that they too were Tevinter, and in league with or commanded by Caladrius.