Caroline barely recognised the man before her as she entered the cell; far from being the gangly, awkward teenager she remembered, he was now even taller, and had filled out considerably – his arms and shoulders were particularly broad. His hair which, when she had last seen him, was closely-cropped – on the insistence of his father, who had always said that long hair on men was slovenly – now cascaded down his back in a glossy sheet of obsidian, almost reaching his waist.
The Orlesians had obviously taken hard measures in order to subdue him: his face was a mosaic of weals and contusions, and grotesque flowers of green, yellow, purple and black bloomed along his jaw and around his eyes. His nose had clearly been badly broken at some point and had never been set.
The two of them studied one another for a long moment. Caroline had not changed much during the last eight years, except that she now usually wore her blonde hair in a ponytail; she simply didn't have time for convoluted braids or fussy styles. Nathaniel obviously recognised her immediately – although his face remained expressionless, Caroline detected an almost imperceptible creasing around his eyes, and he unconsciously clasped his hands together, his knuckles turning white.
"Hello, Nathaniel. It's been a long time," she said coolly, hoping he couldn't tell she was perspiring.
"Is this meant to be some kind of joke?" he asked scathingly, placing his palms on his cot, ready to stand.
"Remain seated!" ordered the jailor from outside.
"You told me to stand up a few moments ago!" Nathaniel snapped, barely able to control the emotion in his voice. "Make your bloody mind up!"
Caroline walked over to the door. "Please, leave us," she said to the guard.
Anders stepped forward to speak, but the guard beat him to it. "I'm sorry, Commander, but I'm not prepared to leave you alone with him."
"Neither am I," Anders added firmly.
"I want to speak to him in private," she said with equal firmness. "You may wait outside the door, if you wish."
The guard hesitated, but Anders didn't. "We'll shut the door, but I'm staying right here," he said as he closed the door and peered through the hatch. "Take it or leave it, Commander. If he makes one wrong move, I'll paralyse him."
"And then you'd be able to have your wicked way with me, wouldn't you, Precious?" Nathaniel said in a mock-seductive voice.
"I don't think I'll bother," Anders sniffed, his nose high in the air. "I've gone right off you." He stepped away from the door a little, but still remained within earshot.
Caroline stood next to the door, not certain whether she should step any closer to Nathaniel; he appeared to lounge casually on his cot, but a sense of watchfulness and latent hostility emanated from him in almost palpable waves.
"When did you get back to Ferelden?" she asked in as steady a voice as she could manage.
Nathaniel sat up with alarming speed and clasped his hands together in front of him. "What, no 'how have you been, Nathaniel, in the eight years since I last saw you?'" he sniped, cocking his head to one side.
Caroline hung her head for a moment and took a deep breath through her nose. She didn't want to get into a fight with him but, by the Maker, she'd give him one if he persisted.
"In the eight years since you promised to wait for me?" he continued, a harsh edge to his voice. "In the eight years since you professed your love for me, then changed your mind and took up with Maric's by-blow, instead?"
"Now, hold your horses!" she protested, taking a step toward him. "What was I meant to do? You never wrote to me! I waited six years for you – six years!"
Nathaniel slowly rose to his feet and looked at Caroline with undiluted malice. "How dare you accuse me of not writing? I wrote hundreds of letters to you! You're the one who never wrote to me!"
Hearing shouting, Anders appeared at the door as Nathaniel stepped towards Caroline, leaving mere inches between them. "Oy, Howe! Keep your distance from her!" he called through the door.
"This doesn't concern you, mage!" Nathaniel snarled at him, heading for the door, suddenly halting as Anders's staff was shoved through the hatch.
"Back off or I'll cremate you!" Anders threatened.
"With her in here? I doubt it," Nathaniel retorted.
"I'm very precise," the mage answered, moving away from the door once more. "Just watch yourself," he warned.
Nathaniel folded his arms and stood with his back to Caroline, his hunched shoulders betraying his tension.
"I'm not here to discuss letters, or who I have or haven't taken up with, which is really none of your business anymore," she said brusquely, put on the defensive by Nathaniel's behaviour.
He turned around to face her, looked at her uncertainly for a moment, and then looked at the floor. "What do you want, then?" he mumbled.
"I'll ask you again – when did you return to Ferelden?"
"What difference does it make? What do you care?" he replied, an eyebrow arching sharply.
"Are you even aware of what happened to my family?" she asked, realising her voice sounded shrill.
He paused for a moment, an unspoken question in his eyes as he regarded her. "Yes, I'd heard about that," he said cautiously.
"For the last time, Nathaniel – when did you get back to Ferelden?"
He folded his arms and fixed her with an icy look. "What are you implying, Caroline?" he asked so quietly she could barely hear him.
"I think you know exactly what I'm implying, Nathaniel," she answered, trying to provoke a reaction in him.
"Are you suggesting I had something to do with-" he began.
"You tell me," she interrupted, her voice hard and cold.
Without warning, Nathaniel's demeanour changed; his posture stiffened, and his eyes glinted malevolently. "Did you kill my father?" he growled. "It would make sense – I know a Warden killed him, and I doubt that clown outside could have done it!"
"I asked you first!" she yelled, taking him by surprise, and she advanced on him, causing him to backpedal a step. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Anders hovering by the door. "And you don't seem to be very sorry that my entire family was murdered by your father, Nathaniel!"
"Your family was going to sell us out to the Orlesians!" he protested, not realising what he was saying; his feigned composure and self-assuredness were falling away from him rapidly, pushed out by his rising panic and guilt.
"You can't possibly justify his treachery!" she seethed.
"Commander!" Anders called from outside the door.
"Answer me!" she demanded.
"You answer me," he hissed, jabbing his thumb against his chest. "Did. You. Kill. My. Father?"
She took two steps toward him. "Yes, Nathaniel – I killed the bastard, and it felt good to do it! He deserved every twist of my knife as I plunged it through his neck!"
"Commander!" Anders shouted as he burst through the door. "I think this conversation needs to end, now!"
"It was justice!" she shrieked, tears coursing down her face as she remembered her parents, and Oriana and Oren.
"Justice?" Nathaniel laughed bitterly. "Well, if you truly want justice, perhaps you'd better finish off the rest of the Howes, then! I'm the only one left, as far as I know – why not finish it now, Caroline? Just stick me with that knife of yours – who would know?"
"That's it," said Anders, pushing his way past Nathaniel and grabbing Caroline's arm. "Out," he ordered.
As Caroline was pulled toward the door, she turned back. "Oh, no, Nathaniel – I'm not making it that easy for you," she spat.
As the jailor slammed and locked the door, Caroline was already on her way out of the room.
"Commander!" he called after her. "What do you want done with him?"
"He can rot down here, for all I care!" she vociferated and bounded up the steps, with Anders and Oghren close behind.
~0~O~0~
"That went well, didn't it?" Caroline said morosely as they stepped out in the courtyard and took a few breaths of clean air. "So much for staying calm."
"Here – take a slug of this, Commander," offered Oghren, passing her a gourd of rum. Caroline took a deep swig from it and passed it back to the dwarf with a grateful nod.
"Phew – that stuff smells like distillation agent!" Anders complained, wrinkling his nose. "Still, it smells better than that dungeon."
"So, who was he to you? Really?" Oghren asked, ignoring Anders's pointed glare.
"Just a family friend," she said distractedly, looking over towards the stables, remembering the first time she and Nathaniel had met in secret. "I need to speak to Varel," she announced, heading toward the main keep.
"Do you want us to come with you?" asked Anders.
Caroline turned back towards the two men. "No, I'll speak to him in private, but thanks – to both of you – for your help. I'll catch up with you later, all right?"
"Sure thing, Commander," said Oghren.
"Yeah – catch you later," Anders called after her.
~0~O~0~
Varel stood as Caroline entered his office, and waited for her to be seated before taking his own seat again. "So, you've been to visit our guest, then?" he asked. "What do you make of him?"
"Do you know who he is?" she asked the seneschal.
"No, he wouldn't give his name to the guards. Did you have any luck?"
"Varel, I didn't need to ask his name. I already know him, and so do you," she replied.
"Oh?" said Varel with a quizzical look. "Well, now you've piqued my interest – who is he?"
"Varel, it's… it's Nathaniel," she answered, watching him for a reaction.
"Nathaniel? But I only know one Nath… surely you don't mean Nathaniel Howe, Commander?" Caroline nodded, and Varel leaned forward in his chair, frowning at the desk. "I wonder when he returned from the Free Marches?" he wondered quietly.
"I asked him that several times, but he wouldn't say."
"How did he seem to you, Commander?"
"He-he's different, Varel, not how we remember him at all," Caroline said quietly. Varel remained silent and waited for her to continue. "He's so bitter," she elaborated, "so angry. Although I suppose I didn't help much. I lost my temper and admitted that I killed his father."
Varel grunted softly. "Well, I suppose he'd have found out eventually."
"Yes, perhaps," Caroline agreed, "but maybe he didn't need to hear that I enjoyed every second of it."
"That's understandable, Commander, considering what the bastard took from you."
Caroline rose and turned away from him for a moment. "But I didn't enjoy it," she confided. "It gave me no satisfaction at all to kill him. It didn't suddenly make everything better. It… didn't bring them back." After a pause, she turned back to face him. "I looked at him just now, Varel, and saw his father's face. I wanted to hurt him. I didn't realise what I was saying."
Varel stood up and moved around to the other side of the desk, nearer to Caroline, but keeping a discreet distance. "Do you really believe Nathaniel had anything to do with what happened to your family?" he asked gently.
She looked at Varel, holding his steady gaze for a moment before shaking her head. "No, of course not… this is such a mess," she said, covering her face with her hands. "How are we ever going to get past this? What's to become of him?"
"If I might make a suggestion, Commander?" ventured the seneschal.
"Please do," she replied heavily, "because I don't know what to do."
"Well, I think he needs to be moved out of the dungeon, first of all. I've spent a bit of time down there myself, and it's not an environment conducive to positive thinking. Perhaps some light and fresh air may be helpful in getting him to open up."
"Yes, you're right," said Caroline. "You know him much better than I do, after all. Will you come down with me and make the arrangements? Maybe he'd respond better to you."
Varel cleared his throat. "Begging your pardon, Commander, but I think Nathaniel would respond better to you."
"But you were like a father to him when he was a youngster, Varel – much more so than his own father," she said with a confused frown.
"Commander," he said with a sigh, "Nathaniel and I did not part on good terms. I don't think he would be pleased to learn of my presence here."
"What happened?" she asked.
He sighed. "After Arlessa Howe died, Nathaniel became more and more withdrawn," he explained, "although he always responded well to you. I tried to reach out to him, but he didn't want to know – he wanted to mourn in his own way. By the time he left for the Free Marches, he was barely speaking to me, and only then when it could not be avoided. I'm sorry, Commander, but I really feel that my presence would be a hindrance."
"And mine isn't?" she remarked heavily. "I killed his father."
"Commander, I am your servant," he declared. "If you wish me to accompany you to the dungeons, then I will go without hesitation, but it is my firm belief that you will have more luck getting through to him than I would. He always was fond of you."
Caroline stared at the far wall, a heavy frown marring her features as she appeared to consider Varel's words. Suddenly, with a gasp, her head snapped around to face him, a look of alarm on her face.
"What's wrong?" Varel asked.
"There are still darkspawn in the basement!" she cried, turning to face west, as her Warden sense homed in on a location.
"How many?" Varel asked, following her out of the office.
"Twenty or twenty-one. One's an emissary," she stated. "Wait," she said, stopping for a moment and concentrating. "Oghren's in the yard – I can't sense Anders, he must be further away. Their taint is so weak at the moment."
"I'll find him, Commander," said Varel, briskly heading for the inner keep.
"Thank you," she said. "Please have him meet me by the western guard tower."
Varel found Anders in his quarters, and sent him outside, where he found Caroline talking with Sergeant Maverlies.
"Are there any maps of the basement tunnels?" Caroline asked the sergeant. "We don't want to get lost on our way back."
"None that I know of, Commander," replied Maverlies with a sheepish shrug. "How far away are the darkspawn?"
Caroline's eyes narrowed as they fixed on a point in the distance. "A couple of hectares," she estimated. "We need to go soon before they sense me and call some more of their friends."
"Well, you can't get in through here," said Maverlies, pointing to a small outbuilding which housed one of the many entrances to the basement. "That blasted Dworkin and his explosives… there's been another cave-in. Even if you could get through, it's not safe at the moment."
"Where's the next nearest westerly basement entrance?" asked Caroline.
The Sergeant thought for a moment. "The dungeon, Commander," she said confidently.
"The dungeon?" Caroline replied and paused for a minute or two. "I have an idea," she announced, heading there with Anders and Oghren in tow. "We're going to need four torches," she instructed.
"Right away!" Maverlies answered, and ran to one of the stores, where she quickly retrieved four ready-made torches, and smeared the ends with tallow before taking them down to the basement, where she walked in on an argument.
"Commander, this is absolutely crackers! There's no telling what he'll do once he's out!" the jailor protested as Maverlies entered, and passed the torches to Anders.
"I don't have time to argue with you – open the cell," Caroline commanded.
"Wait – is that who the fourth torch is for?" Anders asked in dismay. "You're not bringing him with us, are you?"
"That's enough!" Caroline snapped and turned to the jailor. "Open the cell – now!"
The jailor groaned to himself and took out his bunch of keys. "Yes, Commander," he replied, and unlocked the cell door.
"You two – get that grate open and those torches lit," she said to Oghren and Anders, pointing to the far corner of the room. The two new Wardens made a face, but obeyed her command nonetheless.
Caroline entered the cell. "Nathaniel, you know your way around the basement tunnels, don't you?"
He stared at her and didn't answer.
"Well?" she demanded. "Didn't you used to play down there as a child?"
"Very fitting," Anders drawled from across the room.
"Is there a point to this? Or are you going to continue to ask banal questions?" Nathaniel asked snidely.
"I need your help navigating the tunnels," she said. "We're going down to stop a pack of darkspawn that are headed this way-"
"You can go and soak your head if you think I'm lifting a finger to help you lot," he huffed.
"Fine," she retorted. "You have another option, then. If we get lost in the tunnels, you can deal with the darkspawn as they come up from the basement." She exited the cell and addressed Maverlies and the jailor. "Go up to the yard and lock us in," she ordered. "We should be back in a couple of hours. Have someone posted outside so they can hear us when we return."
"You want me to lock him in his cell, Commander?" asked the jailor.
"No – he can either help us or he can be slain by the darkspawn when they come up here," she replied, heading towards Anders and Oghren, who had the torches lit and were ready to descend.
"As you wish, ma'am," the jailor replied with a flicker of a smile. "Be careful down there." He and Maverlies ascended the steps up to ground level, and closed the door to the dungeon; several bolts could be heard being slid into place.
Oghren went down first, using the footholds that had been hewn into the rock walls. When he reached the bottom, he moved away a little and called for the torches to be thrown down.
Anders gestured for Caroline to go next and, as he helped her to position herself, he glanced at the cell. Nathaniel was obviously interested in what they were doing; he stood on the threshold of his cell, watching them fixedly. Anders realised for the first time just how tall Nathaniel actually was – he was at least 6'4".
"Hey, Commander," Anders whispered as Caroline started to descend. "What if he replaces the grate once we're down? He could trap us down there."
"He wouldn't," Caroline speculated, remembering the Nathaniel she once knew but, not wishing to enter a bickering match with Anders, she relented. Eight years was a very long time, she mused, and she was still uncertain of who Nathaniel was now. "All right, we'll take precautions," she said to the mage.
"Thanks, Commander," he answered with a delighted grin, proud that he'd made a useful suggestion.
"Oghren," she called down. "Move aside. We're going to drop the grate down – it'll make an awful din when it lands."
"Gotcha!" he called up. "Ready."
"Hang about – won't the darkspawn hear it?" Anders asked as he pushed the grate diagonally through the basement entrance.
"No they're too far away," she answered, pressing herself against the wall to make room. "Here it comes!" she called down.
Anders released the grate, and as it hit the floor below, an almighty clang reverberated through the lower parts of the Keep.
"Bloody hell! Are you insane, or something?" Nathaniel hissed from within his cell.
Ignoring him, Anders began to descend, leaving an unlit torch at the entrance.
"Who's going to bring the grate back up?" he asked Caroline as they reached the bottom.
"Why, you, of course!" she answered mischievously. "This was all your idea, after all."
"Remind me to keep my ideas to myself in future," Anders muttered to himself, taking up his torch.
Nathaniel waited for a few minutes before leaving his cell, cautiously venturing toward the basement entrance. He peered down but could see nothing but blackness. He sat on the floor with his legs dangling over the entrance, frowning at the torch that lay next to him.
He'd been extremely disconcerted by Caroline's unexpected appearance earlier on, but he was damned if he'd let her see that. What really disturbed him, however, was the feeling of nausea and panic he'd experienced when she went down into the basement. He knew he could navigate the tunnels with his eyes closed, but it had taken him years to familiarise himself with them, and he hadn't had darkspawn to contend with.
He pondered her earlier words. I waited six years for you… you never wrote to me.
He shook his head, astonished by her lies. Why couldn't she just admit that she'd changed her mind about him? His mother and sister had left him, his father and brother had never had time for him. Why should Caroline be any different? She was just like everyone else. Why should he care if she was in the basement, getting herself lost?
He deserved every twist of my knife as I plunged it through his neck!
"Damn her!" he cursed, and scrambled to his feet. "Good luck down there," he sneered into the dark pit, and returned to his cell, firmly closing the door.
~0~O~0~
After almost an hour's travel through the tunnels, the three Wardens had found the group of darkspawn, guided to its location by Caroline's finely-tuned Warden sense. The group had proved little trouble to them and, after Oghren's and Anders' confident showing, Caroline felt certain they would make fine Wardens.
Now they had a problem. Caroline knew that they needed to head in a vaguely easterly direction to return to the keep but, with nothing to guide her to an exact location, and – although she had tried to keep 'east' in her head – during the fight with the darkspawn she had lost concentration, and was now uncertain exactly which way east was. The only thing she was certain of was that it lay to her right somewhere but, if east lay to her right, then so did south and west.
On top of that, she had sensed another group of darkspawn, moving away from them in a north-westerly direction. At least she thought it was north-west. The darkspawn would have to be taken care of first, but she knew eventually she'd have to admit to Oghren and Anders that they were lost.
Anders had re-lit their torches a few times, but once the tallow had completely burned off, there would be nothing left to burn and, although Anders could provide light, and heat, with his staff, he had only brought a few lyrium potions with him, and after they'd gone? They'd have to scrabble around blindly in the dark, and Anders couldn't conjure up food.
Then she thought of Nathaniel. She'd left him a sitting duck up there in the dungeon because of her foolish belief that he'd help them. Is this how the Howes and the Couslands are going to end? She wondered. How ironic it was that there had been a survivor from each family, and they both may die on the same night, in the place that had once been Nathaniel's home, but was now hers.
"This way," she said chirpily, swallowing down her fear and doubt as she led Anders and Oghren down another passage heading north-west, or so she believed.
"You do know the way back, don't you?" Oghren asked.
"Of course," she answered with feigned confidence. "We just make our way back east." She pointed vaguely behind them.
"That's not east," Anders argued. "That's south. I've been keeping track of our direction. At least… I think it's south."
"You're both wrong," Oghren grunted, folding his arms. "That's south-west. We're heading east now. We'll meet those freaks on our way back to the dungeon."
"Are you certain, Oghren?" Caroline asked with a semitone of panic in her voice.
"Uh-huh," he replied, tapping the side of his head. "Stone-sense. Got us out of Caridin's Cross, didn't it?"
"But they're moving away from us," she said quickly. "That means… that means they're heading towards the keep – the dungeon!" Her heart fluttered in her chest with the realisation that Nathaniel's death may be imminent.
"How far away are they?" asked Anders as the three of them quickened their pace.
"About three hundred metres, dead ahead," she answered, "but we may not be able to take a direct route to them. If we are heading east, I remember a junction not long after we came down here. I'm not sure which way to go when we reach it."
Oghren cursed under his breath as his torch went out for the third time. Anders tried without success to re-light it. "There's no fuel left on it to burn," he told them.
"I think mine's about to go again," Caroline said, blowing on the flame. Anders's torch had burned out long before.
Anders examined the torch and groaned. "You might as well leave it, Commander. That'll go out anytime. I'll make a bit of light with my staff, but I'll need to use it for other things when we meet the darkspawn – we'll be fighting them in the dark."
"We have to be better prepared than this, next time!" Caroline said, angrily throwing her guttering torch to the ground. "No… I need to be better prepared. This is my fault."
"You're doing your best, Commander," Anders reassured her. "Blaming yourself isn't going to help."
Caroline smiled thinly at him and patted his arm in gratitude.
"Mind you," he added, "if we die down here and there isn't a next time, I'll come and find you in the Fade, and mark my words, there'll be some blaming going on then, I can tell you!"
"And I won't argue with you!" she laughed along with him before her expression turned serious. "Let's get a move on," she said, remembering Nathaniel.
Before long, they came to the junction that Caroline had mentioned. Although she was relieved that they were definitely heading east, she knew that a wrong turn here could result in Nathaniel's – and perhaps some of the Keep's personnel's – deaths, as the darkspawn were still heading away from them, but, for the moment, they were still on basement level.
"Any ideas, Oghren?" she asked the dwarf, hoping his stone-sense could help determine the right direction for them to take.
Oghren walked forward, removed a gauntlet, and touched the stone wall, running his bare hand along its surface by the eldritch light of Anders's staff. He grunted to himself doubtfully and shook his head. "Can't say for certain, Commander. Both ways lead east, but for some reason, right seems the best way to go."
"Right it is, then," said Caroline.
"Wrong, dwarf," said a rasping voice from behind them. They all turned in the direction of the light coming up a tunnel ahead.
"What are you doing here?" Caroline demanded as Nathaniel appeared from around a bend, carrying a freshly-lit torch.
"I've been following you," he answered. "You need to go left, here. A right turn leads to the crypt and, trust me, you don't want to go down there. Older things than darkspawn lurk in these passages, you know," he said darkly.
"How do we know he's telling the truth?" Anders asked loudly. "He could be leading us into a trap!"
"Yes, I'd like to know how you got behind us!" Caroline agreed. She was relieved to see Nathaniel wasn't in immediate danger, but his earlier words to her had bitten deeply, and she was uncertain who this man really was – he certainly wasn't the love-struck, starry-eyed boy she remembered.
Nathaniel tutted and rolled his eyes. "I've passed you all several times, but you didn't see me. I also passed the darkspawn – they're up ahead, and they're cornered. If you want to take care of them, you'd better do it now before they head up through the opening to the dungeon."
"How did we not see you with your torch, then?" Anders asked sceptically.
"I've only just lit it, you moron," Nathaniel sniped.
Anders shook his head vigorously. "No – I don't trust him. Why does he suddenly want to help us after more or less telling us to piss off before?"
"Do what you like," Nathaniel said dismissively. "I'm heading back to the dungeon, and as I have the only torch, you'd be advised to follow me, but suit yourselves," he added as he took the left-hand tunnel. "And I'm going to replace the grate," he called out. "I'm not fighting them on my own – I don't have a weapon, and there are nine of them, one of which was huge."
"Yes, it's an ogre. It looks like we don't have much choice," Caroline conceded, and reluctantly followed him. Oghren and Anders exchanged a sour look, and gripped their weapons tightly as they went after their Commander.
"Don't turn your back on him," Oghren warned Anders.
"Way ahead of you there, beardy," the mage replied.
It soon became apparent that Nathaniel had been telling the truth. As they neared another bend, Caroline held her hand up for them to stop and pointed to the left. "They're down there," she whispered, "and they're heading this way – they've sensed me."
"Well then, let's give them a welcoming party!" Oghren cried, and charged down to meet them, quickly followed by Anders, guided by the light of his staff.
"Don't you have any control over your subordinates?" Nathaniel asked Caroline in dismay. "It would have been better to ambush them – your two idiot Wardens are going to fight them in the dark!"
"Then shut up and bring the torch," she snapped as an explosion sounded and a fireball lit up the tunnel, allowing Caroline to navigate safely for a few seconds.
"The saviours of Amaranthine," Nathaniel remarked derisively, shaking his head as he followed at a distance. Caroline stopped, turned around and charged up to him.
"Give me that!" she ordered, snatching the torch from him. "If you want to glower and sulk in the dark, be my guest! I'm going to make myself useful!" She turned and started running toward the sound of clashing metal.
Nathaniel let out a deep sigh and headed after her. He had no trouble navigating the tunnel; he knew the basement well, and his years of training in stealth and covert manoeuvres had heightened his senses when in a poorly-lit environment.
He rounded another bend and was astonished by the sight that met him. The dwarf was engaging half a dozen hurlocks by himself, and actually appeared to be goading them by shouting insults and whistling at them, while the mage and Caroline tackled the ogre. He watched in awe as she skipped around the monster, taking occasional stabs at its legs with her daggers to distract it, allowing Anders to cast spells upon it. She moved with the grace and finesse of a dancer, and Nathaniel was suddenly taken back to a time when he would watch her sparring with her brother Fergus's squire, Ser Gilmore, at Highever.
As he reminisced, he failed to notice two hurlocks that had broken free from Oghren and, without warning, he was struck on the head, and found himself on the ground, dazed and disorientated in the darkness.
"Nathaniel!" he heard Caroline cry out, and she tossed one of her daggers over to him. Scrambling to his feet, he ran to retrieve it, only to be knocked to the ground again as one of the hurlocks tackled him. Temporarily winded, he grabbed the dagger and slashed wildly, finally sinking it into the hurlock's ribcage. This only seemed to enrage the creature, however, and it clasped its claws around Nathaniel's neck and squeezed hard.
"Bastard!" Nathaniel croaked and, bringing the dagger up, drove it forcefully into the creature's windpipe, releasing a torrent of black, glutinous liquid onto Nathaniel's face. He gasped as the creature's grip around his throat tightened, and spluttered as the foul-tasting liquid entered his mouth. Blinded, he frantically tried to wipe the liquid from his eyes and, as he opened them, he felt the hurlock's grip loosen, its body sliding to the ground, minus its head. Although his vision was still blurred, Nathaniel made out a small, squat figure running away from him towards the ogre, a glinting battle-axe in his hand.
With Oghren's help, the ogre was eventually felled, and the three Wardens caught their breath for a few seconds before making their way to the lit torch, which lay on the ground. They found Nathaniel next to it, leaning heavily against a wall, panting and clutching at his neck.
"Are you injured?" Anders asked cautiously, expecting a scathing retort. When none came, he picked up the torch and approached Nathaniel.
"Commander!" Anders shouted. "He's covered in darkspawn blood!"
Caroline ran up to them and grabbed Nathaniel's face, which stuck to her hands. "Did you swallow any?" she asked him frantically. "Nathaniel! Answer me!"
Nathaniel nodded and started retching, clutching his belly.
"I'll make him vomit," said Anders, holding his right hand up to Nathaniel's face, casting a disorient spell on him.
"What… what are you…" Nathaniel slurred, squeezing his eyes shut as his head began to swim. He then bent over and was violently sick up the wall.
"Do it again, to be on the safe side," Caroline instructed Anders.
"Don't you dare!" Nathaniel gasped as he felt the nauseating and dizzying effect of Anders's spell once more. He grimaced and made a harsh exclamation as the last of his stomach's contents spilled out of his mouth onto the ground.
"I think that should do it, Commander," Anders announced, and stepped closer to the drooling, panting Nathaniel, undeterred by the rogue's glower. "How do you feel?" he asked.
Nathaniel answered with a blistering right-hook to Anders's nose, sending the hapless mage sprawling to the ground.
"Hey!" Oghren growled, advancing forward.
"You ungrateful fucker!" Anders yelled, wincing as he touched his bleeding nose. "I was trying to save your life!"
Nathaniel's head was forced back against the wall as Caroline's dagger pressed firmly against his throat. "You ever touch him again, and I won't hesitate," she threatened. Nathaniel gulped and closed his eyes.
She moved away and held out her hand to Anders. "I can manage, Commander," he muttered, pushing himself up onto his feet. He placed his hand over his face and a pale light surrounded him for a few seconds as he healed himself.
"Which way?" Caroline demanded of Nathaniel.
"The-the left tunnel," he stammered, breathing rapidly, bracing himself against the wall with one hand. "I-I feel… what… what…?"
Nathaniel's world undulated and shifted around him, and he felt insubstantial fingers snake into his head and claw down the sides of his skull. He vomited corrupt blackness onto his tunic and fell to his knees, reaching and grabbing desperately at something in front of him the others could not perceive, and finally collapsed onto his side, trembling.
"What's wrong with him, Anders?" Caroline asked wildly, falling to her own knees as she arrived at his side, her eyes wide with fear as she already suspected the answer.
Anders picked up the torch and crouched down next to them. In the dim light, the foul black egestion was already drying around Nathaniel's mouth, and his skin seemed to have taken on a translucent quality, the veins running beneath it clearly visible. "No, please," Caroline whispered, a sob in her throat.
"Nathaniel! Open your eyes!" Anders shouted. Howe complied, although with great difficulty; as his eyes flickered open, two dull, lifeless orbs stared back at the Wardens.
"Ancestors' tits!" Oghren growled. "What the hell is wrong with him?" Anders shook his head slowly, at a complete loss. He'd never seen anything like this in all his years as a healer.
Caroline leapt to her feet, taking a few halting steps backwards. "Anders," she said quietly, "you're the fastest runner. Take the left tunnel, and send some strong men down here with a stretcher and some rope."
"Right-right, I'll go now!" Anders said quickly, handing the torch over to Caroline.
"And then go and find Varel," she instructed him. "He'll need help preparing."
"Preparing what?" Anders asked.
"Nathaniel needs to be put through the Joining immediately," she answered. "It's the only thing now that will save his life."
"What, you mean he'll be a Grey Warden?" Anders exclaimed, his disapproval obvious.
"Anders, please hurry!" she shouted.
"Yes… yes," he mumbled, and broke into a sprint up the tunnel.