Blessed Maker, it's grinning.
The Ogre paused at the gates to the Castle, surveying the surrounding of the courtyard. Alistair took a step back and tried to regain some of his breath.
The call of the taint had become stronger as they had neared Redcliffe. But as they charged up the last slope towards Redcliffe, it became clear that it was only the sheer number of darkspawn who were laying siege to the village which was amplifying the call. The Archdemon was not at Redcliffe. Unable to leave the village to the mercy of the darkspawn, Alistair had ordered his horsemen to stay and defend the village while he and the remaining three had pressed onwards to the Castle in search of answers. But now after battling two Emissaries as well as a selection of hurlocks, genlocks and animated dead archers, the arrival of an Alpha Ogre did not seem the welcome alternative to the Archdemon that it should have been.
The Ogre fixed its gaze on Alistair, the taint acting as a beacon between them.
Definitely grinning.
The creature lurched towards him, quickening its pace and with a hand outstretched to grab at him. Alistair ducked as he deflected the blow with his shield and let his sword follow the momentum of his movement. The blade drew blood and the Ogre grunted, pausing to glance at the minor wound. The brief hesitation was enough to allow Alistair to manoeuvre himself out of reach and he began to circle it, looking for the advantage. Riordan recognised his tactics and mirrored his movements so that both warriors were pacing round it, diverting attention from the two mages.
Alistair could feel the warming sense of Wynne's protection spells around him as a flash of light hurtled past him. The Ogre stopped mid-movement as it became caught in Morrigan's freeze hold. Working as one, both he and Riordan hacked at the exposed flesh between the ill-fitting armour. They had to try to cripple its health before either could risk landing a killing blow.
Morrigan's spell faded and the Ogre let out a roar of pain as sensation returned to its limbs. It raised its clenched fists and both he and Riordan braced themselves for the tremor that was to come. Glancing round, Alistair saw that Wynne had followed their lead and had propped herself against a wall but Morrigan was lost in concentration, hands outstretched while she attempt to cast one of her most powerful spells. He made to shout a warning to her but it was drowned out by the slam of the Ogre's fists hitting the ground. Morrigan let out a curse as she toppled to the ground, spell disrupted. The Ogre whirled round, attracted by the unexpected noise. It loped towards her, grin reappearing on its face and caught her up in its grip.
Alistair felt Wynne's magic ebb out of him and he knew she was casting protection spells onto Morrigan instead. He could see the Ogre's fist tightening.
No!
Panic made him reckless. Without waiting for Riordan, he charged at the creature and drove his sword deep into the back of its thigh. The Ogre howled and his grasp on Morrigan loosened. It swung round to confront Alistair and the movement caused Morrigan to slither out of its hold. She fell to the ground in a crumpled heap and did not move.
Alistair staggered back. His sword was still embedded in the Ogre's thigh and all he had was his shield to protect him. Enraged, the Ogre drew its fist back again to deliver a final blow. As it did so, Riordan saw his opportunity and launched into a run. He leapt at the creature and sunk his blade deep into its now exposed chest. Wrenching it back out, the Warden struck again but this time in its throat. The bellow of pain and surprise became a disgusting gurgle as blood filled its airways and the Ogre staggered backwards. With a deftness borne from many battles, Riordan pushed off from the creature and landed lightly on his feet as it crashed to the ground.
The immediate threat dealt with, Wynne pushed past Alistair and rushed to Morrigan. She was still, sprawled where she had fell with limbs at crooked angles. The older mage crouched next to her and her hands raced over the Witch's prostrate form as she murmured various healing spells. As Alistair watched from a little way off, Wynne hesitated and the sound of her enchantments trailed off for a brief moment.
Maker save her. Alistair offered the prayer as Wynne resumed her healing with redoubled efforts.
"Does she live?" Riordan joined him. The older Warden was soaked in foul blood but otherwise unharmed from the battle.
Morrigan gave a weak groan and Alistair allowed himself to let out the breath he had been holding. It seemed that the Maker did watch over all his children, wicked Witches of the Wilds or no.
"She will." Wynne answered the question over her shoulder as she eased Morrigan into a more comfortable position.
Disorientated, Morrigan made a half-hearted attempt to push Wynne away. "Tis a scratch."
"There is more here than a scratch." Wynne brushed aside her protestation.
A look passed between the women and a dark shadow passed across Morrigan's face. Alistair opened his mouth to intervene in the argument that appeared to be brewing between the two mages but Riordan nudged him with a small shake of the head.
"There are some battles even a Grey Warden King cannot win," he murmured and turned towards the stairs leading to the main doors of Redcliffe Castle. He gestured for Alistair to follow him.
Alistair glanced back at the two women but it seemed the moment had passed. Morrigan lay silent and submissive as Wynne continued with her healing. He sheathed his shield on his back and jogged to catch up with Riordan.
"What did you mean?"
Riordan chuckled as they began to walk up the stairs. "You are too young, my friend."
"Too young for what?" Alistair grinned despite himself. Riordan's reaction reminded him of the brief time he had spent with the other Wardens at Ostagar. With the events of the last few days in particular, the sense of camaraderie was a welcome recollection.
"To understand that you will never win an argument with a woman." The amusement on Riordan's face faded. "I only hope that my sacrifice may ensure that you live to learn that lesson for yourself."
The all too brief memory of a happier past was blotted out and Alistair's attention was forced back to the task in hand. Past and future were irrelevant at this point. All that mattered was overcoming the Blight. He would worry about facing the future, and any necessary lessons, at another time.
As they reached the top of the staircase, a guard rushed from the main door to greet them. He saluted both men but addressed Alistair.
"A welcome sight, your Majesty. Bann Teagan is in the hall and is eager to speak with you."
"Is the Castle secure?" The authority with which Alistair now spoke only served to emphasise how far removed he had become from the young Warden recruit Riordan's teasing had temporarily reinstated.
"Yes, we were able to keep the darkspawn out."
"Then send any available guards to the village and support my men there."
"Reinforcements have already been sent via the tunnel in the dungeon but from what we can see from the battlements, the village is saved."
"Good." Alistair motioned behind towards the courtyard. "Will you see whether my companions need any assistance? I can find Teagan myself."
The guard saluted and moved past the two Wardens and down the staircase. Alistair led Riordan through the main door and towards the hall. As they entered, Teagan turned and both he and the guard captain to whom he was issuing orders bowed.
"Welcome, Your Majesty. Once again, Redcliffe is in your debt."
Alistair felt a flush of discomfort and he signalled for both to straighten. He could tolerate strangers addressing him with the title even though it was not officially his for the moment but it was too strange for Teagan to do so. "I'm not King yet."
Teagan gave a curt nod to the guard captain as means of dismissal. Once the man had left, he allowed a grin to surface. "Warden or King, I am glad to see you here Alistair."
"What of Elissa?" Riordan interrupted.
Teagan frowned. "The Warden is not here."
"Is she in the village?"
"Not that I know of and she has a way of making her presence known."
Alistair made his way to the fireplace and made a pretence of warming himself. Back turned to the two men, Teagan in particular, he summoned what little cunning he had. "If the Archdemon is not here then it makes sense that neither is she."
"Is that why you returned to Redcliffe, for the Archdemon?"
"Yes. Arl Eamon's scouts reported that it was attacking here." Riordan answered.
"No, there has been no sign of it. But there are rumours that it lies near Denerim."
Alistair spun round from the fire. "How could you know that?"
Teagan shrugged. "Rumour moves faster than men. I had heard rumours that you were headed to Redcliffe before you arrived."
"Then we must return to Denerim." Riordan was stoical.
Alistair didn't argue but nothing could obscure the fact that they had given the Archdemon an opportunity they could sorely afford to offer it. "We need to turn the army back somehow."
"Unfortunately rumour will not turn an army back and there is nothing else which could convey the message faster," Teagan shook his head.
"Morrigan."
Both Teagan and Riordan stared at Alistair.
"She's a shape shifter. She may be able to reach the army more quickly in another form. Oghren would make sure the message was listened to if she delivered it." Alistair hesitated. "But we must allow her a few hours to recover."
Teagan gestured at a servant who was hovering near the doorway. "Then allow us to offer our hospitality in the meantime. The rumours do not say that the Horde is ready to attack Denerim quite yet. A few hours will make little difference."
Ridiculous as it was amid all the danger that threatened, the thought of a warm meal was a soothing one. Alistair nodded. "Agreed."