Remember Jowan. And what he concealed.[/i]
That was what Knight-Captain Cullen told himself firmly as he stood his post in the Gallows' courtyard. They'd caught the blood mage and relaxed, thinking the problem solved, when the true extent of it had festered in the darkness.
Just because Thrask's rebels were caught didn't mean the Knight-Commander wasn't right to ask him to investigate more potential insubordination. They had to be vigilant, aware, questioning. It was very reasonable, even if the Knight-Commander herself -
She's been betrayed by her own men; of course she was upset. Angry, even. That's... natural. A little... over-caution is better than the see-no-evil approach we took at Lake Calenhad.
His thoughts turned back seven years, to what he'd seen and heard before the mages left for Ostagar, wondering again what he, or any of them, might have looked for to prevent that tragedy. Senior Enchanters Uldred and Wynne were returning through the Tower main doors in his mind's eye when he gave himself a shake. No use maundering. It just twists the brain; for a moment there, I would have sworn that mage was Florian Aldebrant.
Cullen's eyes narrowed, trying to place the fellow - and then widened. It was Florian! He stepped forward, a friendly greeting on his lips.
It died as he caught sight of the two elves behind him. No, not the two; just the dark one. His hand fell to the hilt of his weapon on instinct. There was something very wrong about her, something that made him think of demons and blood magic.
Florian stopped, open-mouthed with surprise. "Ser Cullen? It is Ser Cullen, isn't it?" The mage swallowed and glanced at the templar's hand, white-knuckled on his sword. "I'd heard you were... better."
"Stand aside," he growled, moving to interpose himself between the Ferelden mage and the 'elf.' Other templars, and some mages, in the courtyard were beginning to look their way. Good."You don't know what this is."
"Warden-Commander Vashti Mahariel of the Dalish, templar!" the creature barked at him, hands not far from her own weapons.
"You're no Grey Warden," Cullen said, but with less certainty. "I know you. From... from the Tower."
"Yyyes," Florian said behind him, quietly. "The Grey Warden who saved the Tower? That's her."
"I... I... oh." Cullen sagged, old nightmares swirling just below the surface of his thoughts. He willed them to stay there. "I... please forgive me. My memories from that time are jumbled and... largely unpleasant."
"Don't care," she snapped. "Mages attacked and killed the Dalish on the mountain. Were they yours?"
"What?" Knight-Captain Cullen was used to exactly one person being short with him, and she was back in her office. "What are you talking about?"
"Sounded perfectly clear to me," the other elf shrugged, and Cullen scowled.
"Excuse me!" Florian stuck an arm into the air for their attention. "Excuse me. Thank you. We're starting over now." He beamed at Cullen. "Ser Cullen, fancy meeting you here! Finn Aldebrant, don't know if you remember me. I'm on approved leave from the Circle for research into ancient elvhen language and artifacts. I have a note." He presented the carefully-folded parchment as if it were a great prize - which Cullen supposed it was.
Cullen took it, opened it up and frowned. "That's not Knight-Commander Greagoir's name on this."
"Oh, it's there, up at the top, next to Irving's. He approved it, but Ser Hadley signed for my release when I left. The Knight-Commander was in Denerim at the time, I believe."
"Looks to be in order." He handed the parchment back. "Not that I'd expect anything less from you... Finn, is it now? But you're not in Kirkwall to study elven artifacts."
"No. What the Commander was alluding to is the fact that we went up Sundermount to meet with a Dalish clan encamped there." Cullen nodded, frowning. Several templars had died while pursuing an apostate thought to be among the Dalish, three years ago - was it the same clan? "They were... all killed. By magic. Recently, about a week ago."
"Maker's breath! The entire clan?" He looked at the Warden-Commander. "And you think we turned some of our mages loose on them? That's insane! We don't let them go out for a spot of slaughter now and again!"
"Then who?" She crossed her arms and glared at him. "One survived. He said there were three: two humans, male and female. And..." Her lips thinned and she paused. "One of our own, female. Three apostates, against a clan of thirty-three with a powerful Keeper - they took no losses. None. Three powerful apostates in the mountains near Kirkwall. Do you know them, or do these walls contain your responsibility?"
"I would think you would be thankful that we do not routinely seek mages so far from Kirkwall," he shot back. "We left the Dalish largely alone, as we have more than enough problems within the city. Including a cabal of blood mages who turned several templars and escaped to the Wounded Coast, very recently."
"Where on the coast?"
"We've recaptured the survivors. But -" He held up a hand as the Warden took two steps toward the Gallows. "Upon reflection, I doubt those are your perpetrators. There was no Dalish among them, for one thing. And none of the survivors have mentioned anything about going up the Sundermount."
She bared her teeth at him. "Do you know anything useful?"
Finn pressed a hand to his forehead. "Vashti? Would you..." The other elf moved to pull the Grey Warden back a bit and steered her away from Cullen. "Thank you, Ariane. Sorry about that," he apologized. "It was her clan, you understand."
"I suspect that I do know who your perpetrators are," Cullen said in a low voice. "But I am also reluctant to name names when the description is so vague, and the charge so dire." Finn looked at him oddly; Cullen sighed, knowing that it certainly wasn't usual templar behavior to offer any sort of protection to apostates, whether or not they were guilty of mass murder. But Finn didn't understand the politics surrounding the Champion. "Do you have any other information that would help?"
"The Commander knew the Dalish woman from before the Blight. Her name is Merrill. Dark hair, green eyes, Sylaise's vallaslin. That's, uh, that's the tattoos."
Merrill.The name was familiar, written on report after report concerning the Champion, and in a few reports all her own. Marian Hawke, Anders, Merrill. Human woman, human man, Dalish woman. Three powerful apostates.
Three powerful apostates they hadn't been able to touch for years, thanks to the mess of Marcher politics and power that the city had become. This was clearly an opportunity - for justice or for disaster, he wasn't sure which. The templars hadn't acted against Hawke for a reason. But did those reasons apply to a Dalish Warden from Ferelden? And if she was the one who saved the Tower, saved him from the demons there, didn't he owe her this?
"I... know the name." Cullen studied the tops of his boots. "She's a suspected apostate frequently in the entourage of the Champion of Kirkwall. Along with a known mage." He sighed. "I'm sure you remember Anders."
"Anders? Anders the Escape Artist? But he's dead!"
Cullen smiled humorlessly. "Is that how he finally got out of Lake Calenhad?"
"No! He joined the Grey Wardens! Died defending their keep against a darkspawn attack, Vashti's spoken of it. There's a plaque with his name on it and everything."
"We'd heard rumors he was a Warden. I thought it was a lie to keep the templars off him." Cullen shook his head. "I've seen him. It's Anders or his twin brother. He'll be your male human. The Champion herself is the woman."
"He was a healer! Maker's breath, Ser Cullen, I worked alongside the man when he wasn't in prison. If he wasn't learning a new spell, he was chasing a, a..." Finn flushed slightly, "...a romantic interlude or trying to get over the wall. I saw what was done to those elves, and - "
"People change," Cullen said, silencing the mage with a level stare. "Anders is known to run a free clinic in Darktown. He's also suspected of aiding the escape of dozens of apostates... and a few maleficar. He is a major figure in an underground movement that seeks to overthrow the Circle and possibly the Chantry with it. He is not the Anders you remember."
"But... but... wait." Finn frowned, brows drawing together. "You've seen him, you know he's a mage, but he's... not...?"
"He is a companion, possibly lover, of the Champion of Kirkwall, Marian Hawke. She wields considerable influence in the city, even," he sighed, "enough to make the discharge of our proper duties... difficult. It would... also render difficult any sort of trial you might be considering. Particularly as the victims were not - " human "- Kirkwall citizens."
The guilty look on Finn's face told him that the Warden-Commander didn't have a trial in mind. The mage swallowed and stared thoughtfully past Cullen's shoulder. "Maybe... with Anders involved... she'll ask a few questions first," he muttered. "Where could we find him?"
"Don't bother with the Darktown clinic." Cullen waved the idea away. "If they see someone they don't like coming, it just disappears. The Champion technically lives at the Amell estate in Hightown, but our observations indicate she's rarely there. Your best bet is a Lowtown tavern called the Hanged Man."
"The Hanged Man. Sounds charming."
"You'd best go quickly. Your Warden-Commander was... less than discrete in her inquiry. Some eavesdropping mage is probably already carrying word to the First Enchanter, who counts her as an ally. And you don't want her to be forewarned."
Finn grimaced. "Lovely. Just... well, I suppose we're off, then. Thank you for your help, ser."
Cullen nodded, watching the mage retreat to where the two sullen elves waited. If you're successful, it'll be me thanking you.