Victory at Ostagar
Chapter 46: Testing the Alliance
Dim light from the braziers, more red than gold, illuminated the Wardens' quarters just enough for Bronwyn to slip inside and find her cot. Scout was next to it, curled up on his blanket and sound asleep. She smiled vaguely, and moved to the other side of the cot to keep from disturbing him.
The velvet gown was discarded for the second time that night. She struggled with the ties to her underskirt, a little muzzy with wine and love and sleep. It was impossible, in this gloom, to fold her good clothes without creasing them. Instead, she draped them carefully over the foot of her cot, and eased herself under them cautiously. With luck, she would have a few hours sleep—if the Archdemon permitted it.
"Did you have a nice conference with Teyrn Loghain?" Leliana asked softly.
Her face burning, and glad of the mask of darkness, Bronwyn managed, "Yes, very nice, thank you," and felt an utter fool. She lay back, her head on one up-flung arm, and blew out a breath.
Leliana turned on her side and put on a gentle hand on Bronwyn's shoulder. "That's good. As long as he is nice to you."
Bronwyn, tired as she was, huffed with wry laughter. Loghain was many things, and quite of few of them were exciting and stimulating and even very, very pleasurable, but "nice" was not a word that came to mind when she thought of him.
"We're good together," she said. "We get along all right."
The gentle hand patted her shoulder. Bronwyn looked over at Leliana. Even in the dim light, she could make out the sad expression.
The bard murmured, "You deserve much more than 'all right,' my friend. You are young, and beautiful, and brave. Grey Wardens may have forsworn long life, but nothing in our oath compels us to foreswear love."
"It's not like that," Bronwyn whispered, impatient and embarrassed. One didn't just declare one's inmost feelings to the world at large.
"Oh..." Now the bard's fair face was amused. "I see. It is the very upper-class thing of revealing none of the softer emotions to the lower orders. It does not matter if you repeat the words to me, my dear friend, as long as you say them to him. And he to you."
"We don't talk much about feelings," Bronwyn muttered. What he said to her before, during, and after was no one else's business. "I've got to sleep now."
Another gentle pat on her shoulder, and the hand was withdrawn. In a few moments, Leliana's breathing changed to the even rhythm of sleep.
At least as even as a Grey Warden's could be. Bronwyn lay awake for some time, listening to the rustles and moans sifting through the smoky chamber. The embers dulled to dark red and the shadows closed in around her. Her eyelids drooped, and like a snap of black lightning, a hurlock rushed past, gibbering.
Bronwyn's eyes blinked open. Distant thunder rolled, and the scent of rain penetrated through the smoke. Brosca whimpered, and Danith thrashed out. Scout "whuffed," his collar making a faint jingling noise. Leliana twitched her head from side to side. Bronwyn sat up and peered over at Astrid, The dark shape of the dwarven princess seemed undisturbed. Astrid had learned to ignore the nightmares better than any of them.
Just a dream. Only the Fade. They were safe for now. Bronwyn lay back down and slept.
Adam Hawke was very pleased at the success of his petition. A few days in Ostagar had accomplished more than months of letters and audiences with Bann Ceorlic.
Bronwyn Cousland drew him aside first thing in the morning and told him of her generous plans.
"Our family lost a lot of loyal supporters when Highever was attacked. I know that my brother needs some good men to pacify the north. If the idea pleases you, I could give you a letter of recommendation to him. You could travel north with the next courier. My brother is probably either in Amaranthine, or heading west from there to Highever."
Adam smiled warmly, hardly able to believe that his luck had changed at last. Naturally, it would take some time to get to Denerim, let alone Highever. His funds would not run to a horse. It would be a long walk, but a worthwhile one. He might travel slowly, but in comparative comfort and safety, by joining the wagon train that was leaving in a few days, taking the supply wagons to be restocked in South Reach and Denerim. They would be glad of another guard.
He bowed, very gracefully. "My lady, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. An appointment like this will mean the world to my family."
"I am always glad to help my Wardens' families. I shall write the letter tonight. If you get on with my brother the Teyrn, you may wish to consider moving your family to the Coastlands, though I am sure it would be a wrench for your mother to leave her home."
Not if I'm in with the Teyrn of Highever, Adam thought, his imagination on fire with the possibilities. A noble patron would mean better protection for Bethany. He liked the idea of them getting away from Lothering very much. Lothering was only two days from the darkspawn horde, and there had been occasional night raids. A major offensive could drive the united army back, and leave his little family to the whims of Fate. He would like them to be gone from Lothering as soon as possible.
Carver had been right—thought Adam hated to confess it— to be concerned about the journey through the Brecilian Passage to Gwaren. Traveling on the Imperial Highway, however, was an entirely different affair. He hoped Uncle Gamlen would either recover enough to bear the journey or not recover at all and cease to be a hindrance. Cousin Charade, of course, was welcome to remain a part of their family. Adam had a great deal of respect for his newly-found cousin.
"Lady Bronwyn, I shall go north with all dispatch. If you have other correspondence, of course, I would be glad to deliver it for you."
"That is most kind," Bronwyn said. "I do have much to say to my brother—and to some others as well."
This was his chance. This was what he had been waiting for all his life. Until her letter of recommendation was safely in his hand, and he was away from Ostagar, he must do everything possible to remain in Lady Bronwyn Cousland's good books. The golden opportunity was tantalizing close, and Adam Hawke would not hesitate to leap at it.
Anora's latest dispatch lay on the table, while the two men in the room debated what was to be done about it.
My dear Father,
I have news from Fergus Cousland that is now fully confirmed. Shocking as it may sound, we know now that Rendon Howe was financing his plots from the sale of Ferelden elves to Tevinter slavers…
"I can't believe it!" Cailan shook his head again. Loghain hissed impatiently through his teeth. If Cailan shook his head one more time, his brain would probably fall out and roll across the floor.
"Believe it," Loghain said flatly. "Or read Anora's letter again. We must brief the senior officers and the allies immediately. We cannot allow rumors to reach them first."
Cailan's eyes flickered with panic. "The elves might desert in a body!" He added, in a mutter, "And who could blame them?"
"They'll bloody well certainly desert if we try to keep this a secret. That's already impossible. Fergus Cousland has sent the surviving elves back to the Denerim Alienage. Word will spread. It's probably not a day or two away at this point. We must act first. I'll give the briefing. We'll go ahead and do it before the elves go scouting tomorrow. All you have to do is look grave."
Irritated in his turn, Cailan snapped, "Of course I can look grave! It's monstrous—absolutely monstrous! In Andraste's own country, people being sold like cattle. If only Fergus had succeed in taking that madman alive!"
"Fergus Cousland is hardly to blame. Howe's schemes are at an end. The slavers' ring is broken and the accomplices dead or self-exiled."
"Bann Esmerelle!" Cailan spat. "I never trusted the woman myself. She should be hunted down and made to pay for her crimes…"
Good luck with that, Loghain snarked to himself. Esmerelle had got away with her gold, but she would be a stranger in foreign lands, forever cut off from her home. For himself, Loghain would rather die than be exiled from Ferelden.
"She and her friends are beyond our reach for the moment," he said instead. "It is the army that must concern us, Cailan. Fergus seems to be holding the north together. We must keep the alliance strong. Summon the officers and allies and let us tell them the truth. Delay would be fatal. It would give the impression we do not consider the matter to be of any importance, which could cause further offense."
Cailan took a breath. "Yes. You are right. We can apologize—"
"No!" Loghain shouted, and then lowered his voice. "We are not bloody apologizing for Howe! You didn't order him to sell the elves. He was a criminal and a madman, but neither you nor the nation of Ferelden has any culpability for his crimes. To apologize would put us in a false position. You must distance yourself—distance yourself—in every way from this ugly business. Point out that Howe was in rebellion against you. Mention his murder of the Cousland family and the new Teyrn of Highever's role in his overthrow. Yes. Frame it that way. You ordered Fergus north. The Teyrn of Highever, acting on orders from the Crown, uncovered Howe's sinister schemes and brought him down. He has put to flight Howe's accomplices. He has rescued the survivors and has arranged for their safe return to Denerim. A tragedy, but not of our making!"
Cailan shook his head again. "It's all unbelievable." Loghain rolled his eyes.
"Unbelievable" was the first, general reaction, at least among the Ferelden nobles. Shouts of disbelief and disgust echoed from the stone walls of the closed meeting. Arls Wulffe and Bryland were outspoken in their denunciation. Other banns claimed long-time dislike and suspicion of the late Arl.
The dwarves listened rather impassively. None of it was their concern. Elves in the human cities were treated as dusters were in Orzammar. If the lords of Orzammar could have found a market that would pay good coin for the dusters, they would have rid themselves of them without hesitation. However, with Dalish allies, it was diplomatic to maintain a serious demeanor.
Loghain watched Merrill and her advisers for their reactions. Cailan was most worried about them, and Loghain could not help feeling a pang of shame and sorrow, when his old comrades from the Night Elves heard the news.
The anticipated explosion, however, did not come. Merrill looked immeasurably saddened, while Maynriel and Thanovir seemed revolted.
"How terrible!" cried the Keeper. "What a cruel fate! Can nothing be done to save them?"
Loghain said, "Teyrn Fergus had no ships at his command to pursue the Tevinters. Many of their ships must have already reached Tevinter by now. He has done what he could to alleviate the sufferings of those left behind, and to send them home as quickly as possible."
Maynriel murmured to the Keeper, just loud enough to be heard. "This is what comes of elves sacrificing their independence and dignity . It is a sad thing for the innocent children, but their elders brought it on themselves."
Thanovir appeared to agree. "What kind of elf is so easily lured to his doom?"
Bronwyn, sitting among the senior officers, stirred at that, and fixed burning eyes on the elves. Loghain sat it and frowned at her, willing her to be silent. If the Dalish were not going to take it as a personal insult, he did not wish her to stir up hard feelings.
She finally said, "I can believe anything of the man who murdered my six-year-old nephew. There seems to have been no limit to his crimes. Is the Highever Alienage truly gone?"
"So it would seem," said Cailan, looking at her compassionately. "They were sold down to the last man, woman, and child, as far as anyone can tell. Howe wished to conceal his deeds."
"You don't think Bann Vaughan had a hand in this?" Wulffe asked bluntly. "He was in league with Howe to some extent. Did he know about the slaving?"
The room broke into loud talk at that. Vaughan's hideous end and the ugly rumors about it were topics of neverending interest. Bearded men gossiped eagerly, hoping for the worst and most exciting possibilities.
Cailan, properly primed by Loghain, was ready for this. He raised his voice, and the room stilled. "We do not. We believe he acted in good faith, when Howe offered work for the elves. There had been serious unemployment among the Denerim elves, which always leads to unrest. He merely thought this was an outlet for them that would earn them needed wages. He kept it secret because of the Crown's differences with the Arl of Amaranthine. There he did wrong."
Wulffe was not entirely satisfied. He turned to Bryland and remarked, "And what did Urien know about this? What did he know then, and what does he know now?"
Bryland shrugged. "Children don't always tell their parents everything. Sometimes they tell them nothing at all. Urien was here and I daresay Vaughan pocketed the money."
"Hmmph!"
The elves talked quietly among themselves. Loghain tried to read them, but found the fair faces inscrutable. They were not on their feet, denouncing the perfidy of all humans, which was something, he supposed.
Bronwyn, on the other hand, was horrified and distressed by the news. Her friends had guessed that there was something wrong about the elves leaving the city, but who could have foreseen such wickedness? Adaia, of course would be the most affected...but Tara was so excited about her new family...Zevran would be cynically unsurprised, she supposed, and the thought of that cut surprisingly deep. It was impossible not feel soiled by Howe's dirty dealings. How horrible for Fergus to discover this, and how much worse not to be able to bring the perpetrators to justice! She must write to him and learn more.
Danith would not take it well, either. She had thought the Alienage a horrible place—an unsafe place, too. It did not help Bronwyn's conscience to acknowledge that Danith was absolutely right. How could she blame her for wanting to save that child she fancied from greedy, high-handed humans?
Even those among us who mean well can do nothing to protect them...not really. If I were an elf, I'd want to wipe the human race from the face of Thedas!
Announcement and orders followed the shocking news. Bronwyn listened with half an ear, trying to find words to tell her own people that would not result in mayhem. Some would not take it well at all.
She was right. Her people did not take it well. She called them together immediately; for they must hear this news from her lips and not from some loud-mouthed ruffian.
Adaia's black eyes seemed to fill her face, and she fell utterly silent. Tara clutched at Adaia's shoulder, while her hand sought out Zevran's.
"They said that my family went north. Maybe your brother saved them?" she faltered.
"I don't know, Tara. I shall write Fergus directly. He has made arrangements to have those he rescued sent home. At this point, we don't know who in Denerim fell victim to Howe and his Tevinter associates. I do know that all the elves I knew from Highever—those who did not go to Ostagar with my brother's troops—all of them and all of their families were ruthlessly sold and shipped away. It is a terrible thing. We have not ships able to pursue the Tevinters, nor coin enough to tempt them to return."
To her relief, Danith said little, but to offer condolences and some words of hope to Tara and Adaia. Zevran said nothing at all, fulfilling Bronwyn's expectations that he would expect no better of the human race. He gave the girls a shoulder to cry on, and did not look in Bronwyn's direction.
The other companions were sympathetic, for the most part, or at least denounced the Tevinters. Sten, of course, did not hesitate to give his opinions of the archenemies of the Qunari.
"A corrupt and decadent people, on the brink of chaos. We of the Qun will continue our struggle against them. It is not impossible that some of the ships may be taken by Qunari, and your people given a place among us."
Bronwyn supposed he meant well, though Adaia and Tara were not much comforted by the idea of the kidnapped elves being prisoners of the Qunari instead of the Tevinters. Most people mumbled some kind words. Morrigan stood apart, either because she did not like to hear pitiful tales of oppressed people, or because she simply did not care.
Brosca laid a hand on Tara's arm. "Maybe they'll get away! Yeah...when the slavers are asleep, they'll toss them into the water and get away! That's what I'd do! I bet some of them get away."
Cullen shook his head, wanting to comfort Tara, but unable to lie about the prospects of the unlucky captives. They had been taken by the vilest of blood mages and no doubt had already been enthralled by their arts. Soon, if not already, they would be mindless slaves, bound by forbidden magics. They might be taken by Qunari, true...or by pirates...or by storms. None of those things were likely to result in living, freed elves.
"Arl Howe will prowl the Void for this," he muttered, for lack of anything better to say.
Morrigan sniffed in contempt. Anders nudged her, a little embarrassed, and whispered, "I'm so sorry," to Tara and Adaia.
Alistair saw it from a different perspective. "I'm glad Fergus was there to put an end to it. I always knew he'd take Howe down, but then to find out everything he was involved. It must have been a shock. I know he'll do everything he can to help the victims."
"Yes," Tara agreed, wiping her face. "Teyrn Fergus is a good man. Probably a lot of people wouldn't care about the elves left behind." A thought struck her. "We could write to Hahren Valendrian to find out who was lost and who came back."
"You mean you can write," Adaia croaked disconsolately. Since coming to Ostagar, she had learned to read a bit, but writing was a lot harder than it looked.
"That's a good idea," Bronwyn said to Tara, wishing somehow to ease the elves' distress and her own disturbing feelings of guilt. "I am writing to Fergus. If you have letters, write them, and we'll give them to Adam to deliver. He is going north to Denerim in a few days, and then will be joining my brother wherever he is. You could take a letter to the Alienage as well, could you not, Adam?"
"I'd be glad to," Hawke assured them all.
The meeting broke up, and Bronwyn sat down to write her letter to Fergus. Danith lingered, watching her. After awhile Bronwyn spoke.
"You were quite right to want to take that child back with you to the Dalish. I admit it freely."
A silence. Danith said, "Perhaps Zathrian's clan was not the proper place for her at that particular moment."
Bronwyn nodded. It was something that they had reached even this degree of accord. "When things are settled, I shall do my best to assist you in finding the child and securing her safe placement. Given what we have learned, we must assume that the child's mother is either dead or enslaved. The likelihood of her returning to claim her daughter is next to nothing."
"So I think," Danith agreed. "My clan will cherish her." She gave the commander a nod, and went to join the little knot of elves at the far end of the room.
Adaia thin shoulders were shaking. "Father's safe, Shianni's safe, the hahren's safe. We can get through this. Father's safe..."
Tara whispered, "You can't tell me that somebody didn't know about this! Didn't people see wagonloads of elves moving north? Didn't people see elves being forced onto the ships? If hundreds of elves were going to the city of Amaranthine, didn't people wonder why the city wasn't full of them?"
"My dear," Zevran said, arm comfortingly around her waist, "you know they did not. People do not see such things, because they do not matter to them. There were no doubt low-level lackeys at the docks...wagon drivers...guardsmen... Yes. Some knew, but were paid not to talk, and the lost were only elves, after all. It is something, I think, that this is being treated as a great crime. It would be far more painful, would it not, if this news were greeted by yawns?"
"That is true," Danith agreed unexpectedly. "The humans here acknowledge that it was wrong and evil. That is indeed something."
"It doesn't bring my family back," Tara said softly. "How funny... My family. I only knew about them a few days, but it meant so much to me. I was looking forward to meeting them again, hoping they'd be proud of me... Now—there's nothing. They've been swallowed by the Tevinter Imperium."
"We should go after them," Adaia hissed. "We should go after them and get them back!"
"Little one," soothed Zevran, "Tevinter is far away across the sea. You would need a ship, and warriors brave enough to face the Tevinters magisters. Even Andraste needed her husband General Maferath and a great army to defeat them!"
"I don't care," Adaia said, her voice cracking. "I'm going to save up my loot, and I'm going to get a ship, and I'll go to Tevinter someday, and I'll buy back our people, and if the Tevinters won't sell, I'll steal them back! We can't wait for anybody to do it for us. We have to do it for ourselves!"
Zevran considered this, amused, and then shrugged. "It is true that such a quest would require fewer numbers than Andraste's host."
"We're supposed to fight the Blight," Tara pointed out, already picturing a long, long...long journey. She had new abilities now: she knew things that would give slave-holding Tevinter magisters quite a surprise, for a few seconds before she killed them.
"Oh, we'll fight the Blight. We have to," agreed Adaia, lowering her voice again. "But when it's over, and we have a safe place here at home, we'll go get everybody. Does that sound all right?"
"I'll go with you," Tara said instantly.
"And I," Danith spoke up. "Many will come. We will be clever and cautious, and wrest our cousins from the humans. When the Tevinters first moved against Arlathan, our people retreated, unable to conceive of such malice—unable to resist it. By the time we understood that they meant to destroy and enslave us, it was already too late. We shall not make that mistake again." Her eyes turned to Zevran.
The handsome Antivan laughed. "It may be that when the Blight is over, our noble commander will release me from my service to her. If that day comes, then how could I resist such an adventure?"
"—and promise the elves, in my name, remission of this year's taxes," Loghain wrote to his steward.
The last thing they needed at the moment was for the city elves to riot. Loghain told his man in Gwaren of Howe's dealings with the Tevinters. It was important to spread the news that everyone else repudiated slavery, and that the surviving Alienage elves were in no danger from such a scheme. Gwaren's Alienage was not as large as Denerim's, but it was sizable enough to cause real trouble if the elves rioted. Remitting the elves' taxes for the year would not cut much into the teyrnir's revenues, but it would mean a great deal to the elves themselves.
The other matter at hand was seeing that his daughter had the best Healer possible. He was about to send for Wynne, when his thoughts were interrupted.
"My lord," his manservant bowed. "The Arl of South Reach wishes to speak to you in private."
"Send him in."
What did Bryland want now? The man had been looking distressed since the death of Bann Vaughan, his daughter's betrothed. Lady Habren was a tiresome girl, and Loghain would well imagine that Bryland would like be rid of her, but one never knew about people's families...
"Loghain."
"Sit, Leonas. Some wine?"
"Definitely."
They drank together in silence a moment, and then Bryland came out with what was troubling him.
"Loghain, you're the father of a daughter. You'll understand me when I say how very difficult that is."
Loghain grunted. He and Anora had certainly had their moments. There had been that grueling time, when she was fifteen... "Lady Habren has not come to terms with the death of her fiance? I gather it was a blow to her."
"Oh, yes, yes...Maker, yes! She was...fond of Vaughan. Wrote to me that he understood her. Said he was a 'kindred spirit,' whatever that means. She wanted to be married to him. I don't think she's ever been denied something she really wanted before." Bryland wiped his mouth hastily and blundered on. "I've never understood her, but I've tried to give her a good life. The more I saw of Vaughan—you know how it is on campaign—you find out things about people that you'd never know otherwise. At any rate, the more I saw I saw of him and eyed him well, the more I detested him. And then that sordid end, drunk in the hills, up to Maker knows what...well, between us I was relieved that the man was not going to be ther father of my daughter's children!"
"Umm..." Loghain said noncommittaly, not wishing to say anything to the man about Bann Vaughan that could be quoted someday.
"Wel, then, you understand," Brland went on, leaving Loghain wondering the arl had construed that from "Umm..."
Bryland pulled a letter from his doublet. "I've just had the most extraordinary proposal for Habren. I suppose I should have foreseen it really, with her wanting a husband, and..." He paused, and then said, "To put it plainly, Loghain, Urien no longer has an heir, nor Habren a betrothed. Urien has asked me to accept him as Habren's bridegroom in his deceased son's place."
Loghain blinked, then rearranged his thoughts. "Habren marry Urien? That's...er... well... What do you think your daughter will say? Does she know of Urien's intentions?"
"Maker's Breath! Yes, she does. She enclosed one of her 'Please, Pappa, I must have this!' letters with Urien's. Of course it's all dead easy to arrange. The dowry, the settlement, the terms for the heirs: it's just like it was with Vaughan, only Habren will be Arlessa of Denerim right away. She seems pretty keen on that."
"Well," Loghain said slowly, "if he wants it, and she wants it, and the paperwork is all in order, why not go ahead with it? You must have wanted the alliance with the Denerim arling to arrange the match with Vaughan in the first place."
"Yes... of course. Still, Habren's very young, and a girl like that really doesn't understand what marriage means, don't you know?" He added, red with embarrassment, "Not that there's anything wrong with a bit of an age difference!"
Loghain realized that the Arl was referring to Bronwyn and himself, which was intolerable and absolutely none of Bryland's business. He glared, but the Arl did not seem to take the hint. "What," he ventured coolly, "exactly is your problem with such a match? Do you think Urien would be unkind to her?"
"No... not that. I don't think he would want to make an enemy of me. I've known him for years, and he's a far better man than Vaughan turned out to be. It's just that he's hardly some young girl's romantic dream."
"Perhaps Habren has other dreams."
Bryland sighed. "There is that. She really is keen on being an Arlessa."
"Then there you are."
Bronwyn came in later, to talk things over, and for other things...
Clearly, last night was not enough for her. It was a pity everything had to be so quick and rushed and surreptitious, but he did his best to make it sweet.
Afterwards, they had to dress quickly, for there was only so long that the manservant could keep out visitors, and there was no way to stop Cailan, if he took it into his head to drop in for a chat. Loghain called in his trusted manservant, and gave orders to bring the Healer Wynne to him, as soon as possible. He sat down at his writing table, sifting through the papers. Bronwyn perched on the table, impudently reading the dispatches over his shoulder. munching an apple.
She was constantly hungry, poor girl. He saw to it there was always something in his chambers for her.
"How did your people take the news?" he asked.
"Not very well. Luckily, Adaia's immediate family is safe. She saw them in Denerim, and they had been outspoken against the work crews. I daresay everyone will remember than they, as well as the Alienage headman, were proved right. Tara... well, she doesn't remember her family, but is understandably sad at their fate. They went north some months ago, and I daresay they have already been put on the auction block in the Minrathous city market. I thought Danith would be angrier, but she did not stand up and denounce me. She is no fool, and realizes, no doubt, that it would do no good. The Blight still needs to be addressed, before other quarrels can be pursued."
"No resignations, then? No desertions?"
"None, thank the Maker!"
He sat back and smirked at her, running his hand over her thigh. "Well, I have some news for you! Arl Bryland confided in me that Urien Arl of Denerim has petitioned him for the hand of Habren his daughter!"
"Habren... and Arl Urien?" Bronwyn cried, utterly stunned.
"Arl Urien and the soon-to-be Arlessa Habren, yes," Loghain assured her. "Her father was here, expressing some concern at the match."
"I daresay. Poor man."
"You are concerned for your cousin?"
"Cousin Leonas?" Bronwyn laughed. "No, I meant Arl Urien! He doesn't know what he's getting into!"
Loghain shook his head. "I'm not in the least alarmed for Urien. He is quite capable of dealing with a spoiled child."
"He didn't deal particularly well with his own!" Bronwyn observed tartly.
"Habren will not be his child, but his wife," Loghain pointed out. "Urien's past history... well, Arlessa Liadan did not have an easy life wih him, but she died when you were a child, of course. He was also not very easy on his daughter, who as you must know died in childbirth, along with her son. Vaughan was his pride, and he treated him very differently than he treated the women in his family."
"So the wedding is going ahead, only with a different bridegroom."
"Yes. Urien feels there nothing to gain by delay. Bryland will take a brief leave at the beginning of next month, and see his daughter wed at the Cathedral."
"A pity I shall miss it," Bronwyn said primly, struggling not to grin. "For I feel certain I shall have a prior committment."
Wynne was shown in, her mild face rather puzzled. Loghain ordered the door shut. He had considered how much information to entrust to this mage, and had decided to tell her as little as possible. She seemed a decent woman, but the matter was simply too important to be careless. Nonetheless, he would have to tell her something.
"The Warden-Commander here tells me that you have a document signed by the Knight-Commander, permitting you independent travel."
"Yes, my lord," said Wynne. "I am honored to have his full confidence."
"You have mine as well," said Bronwyn. "It's important that you realize that what we are going to say to you is a matter only for the three of us."
Her curiosity ablaze, Wynne looked at both of them in turn. "Of course."
"I wish you to go to Denerim," Loghain declared, without further preamble. "The Queen has need of your services."
Wynne's kind, middle-aged face lit with joy. "The Queen is with child?"
"No," Loghain replied, dashing the woman's hopes. "She is unwell, but that cannot be a matter of gossip. We need not only the best Healer available, but a woman of known discretion. Do not speak to anyone of this. News of the Queen's ill health could be used to harm her."
Wynne's eyes flashed, as she drew herself up proudly. "No one will ever know because of me! What is wrong with Her Majesty?"
Loghain grimaced. Bronwyn said, "Perhaps it is best that you make an independent assessment, without being prejudiced by my own observations. However, she was ill enough when I saw her in Denerim, that I was forced to leave Warden Jowan behind to give her regular treatments—"
"Jowan!" Wynne stared at her in horror. "Jowan is a blood mage! How could you—"
Bronwyn refused to take offence. "He was the only mage available with any kind of Healing skills, and as a Warden, I could trust in his silence. He felt himself that it was a matter for your expertise, but he agreed to stay until you or someone of equal ability could be sent to relieve him."
"I shall go at once!"
Loghain said, "The day after tomorrow a wagon train will head north. Perhaps it would be best if you traveled with them. I shall give you orders, stamped with my seal, so the curious may know you are on official business. Say nothing to anyone until you are actually leaving, and then say only that you are being sent to train Wardens in Healing skills."
Bronwyn bit her lip, thinking. "I believe you've met Adam Hawke, Warden Carver's brother? He will be traveling at the same time. I shall ask him to be your escort."
Wynne's face was deceptively innocent. "I shall see that no harm comes to him, Commander."
Loghain started, gave the woman a hard look, and then snorted with amusement. Bronwyn laughed. "All the better for the letters he carries to reach their destination!"
Most of the Wardens were awake at first light. The noise level in the Tower of Ishal awakened anyone who had not the power to cast a silencing charm. Bronwyn rubbed her eyes, wondering why it was so dark.
That's right. The Dalish scouts are moving out at dawn. I remember hearing about that last night. Why is it so noisy here in the Tower?
She sat up, wishing she had rebraided her hair before sleeping. Leliana was up already, splashing her face in the wash water. She looked over at Bronwyn and smiled mischievously. Bronwyn hoped she was going to have another conversation about her own personal life.
Lelilana had plenty to say, but not about Bronwyn.
"You missed the romantic scene last night," Leliana whispered excitedly, "When Tara took Zevran by the hand and led him to her...er...private corner."
Ah, yes, the screen of blankets that gave Tara the same sort of privacy that Morrigan and Anders enjoyed in the corner opposite. So, Tara and Zevran were together, openly and more or less officially. They had been flirting...and Bronwyn suspected rather more than that..but in private.
"As long as it doesn't cause any trouble, I wish them well," Bronwyn said, fumbling for her comb. "And as long as I don't have to listen to them."
Adaia's croaking voice spoke up from the other side of Danith's cot. "I think it's nice."
Danith stretched, and groped for her shirt, "Your Hahren Valendrian will be disappointed. I think he wanted to marry Zevran off to one of the maidens of the Alienage."
"Well," Adaia said, after she had processed that thought for a little while. "Tara is sort of like 'a maiden of the Alienage.' She's an elf, and she was born there, so it sort of comes to the same thing."
"Except for the not actually being married part," Brosca pointed out, scratching her bottom. "Aren't you getting up, Astrid?"
"I am not going on patrol with the elves today," the dwarven princess said calmly. Her eyes were still shut, giving the impression that she was still asleep. She was not, but was very comfortable in her cot at the moment.
"But Danith is," Bronwyn said, "so I will get up and share a good breakfast with her."
Anders' head popped out from the corner he shared with Morrigan, eyes squeezed shut. He asked plaintively, "Can I come out? Is everybody decent?"
"No! We're not at all decent," laughed Leliana. "When has that ever stopped you?"
Loghain was awake at first light himself. Half-dressed and in the midst of shaving, he glanced out the window to see a tall figure towering over his elven friends, pretty Keeper Merrill at his side.
"Maker's Breath!"
Cailan was out of control. Completely out of control. Loghain threw down his razor and wiped the soap from his face. Shrugging on a linen shirt, he hurried down the steps, hoping to talk some sense into the fool. Cailan, his golden armor and golden hair catching the first shafts of sunlight, turned to see his fuming father-in-law emerge from the arched doorway.
"Good day to you, Loghain!" the king called out cheerily. With a sly grin, he added, "I'm surprised to see you risen from your bed so early."
"Do you plan to travel with the Dalish today?" Loghain asked coldly, ignoring the jibe.
"In the spirit of cooperation," Cailan assured him, turning his smile to Merrill. "In the spirit of solidarity. The mission is straightforward enough, after all."
That was true: a large party of elves was to sweep the narrow valley to the southeast for darkspawn stragglers. Then they were to lay a carefully designed web of traps, and look for any signs of tunneling.
Some Grey Wardens were going, of course. The Dalish Warden Danith and the boy, Carver Hawke, came out to join the elves. The boy's irritatingly good-looking brother seemed to be going as well. If the fellow wished to travel along and boast later of his acquaintance with the King of Ferelden, he was welcome to do so, since it would take him away from Bronwyn. Loghain distrusted the newcomer. He always distrusted men with too-bright smiles, and he knew a fortune-hunter when he saw one. The sooner he saw the back of this one, the better.
Tomorrow, thank the Maker...
Cailan was surrounded by some of his usual honor guard, though only a half-dozen of them. A few dwarven apprentice engineers were rounding out the party, laden with equipment. Seeing Loghain's unease, the king took him aside and spoke with quiet confidence.
"After our news yesterday, this seems like the best possible way to assure our allies of our good faith. If the King of Ferelden himself entrusts himself to Dalish archers, it proves our respect better than any words could. I'm going, Loghain. You can't stop me."
"No," Loghain replied, his face hardening. "I cannot. Try not to die."
In spite of all he had done, in spite of his selfish treachery, in spite of his infidelty to Anora, Cailan was still the boy he had helped raise, the child of his closest friend. If there was any way to put everything right that would leave Cailan alive, well, and King, Loghain was willing to go with it.
Cailan patted Loghain on the shoulder, grinning. "I'm not going to die today, I promise."
While the tall men talked, Danith scowled at Merrill, and jerked her head in the direction of the smiling Cailan.
"You spend much time with the shemlen king."
"Yes, I do," Merrill admitted frankly. "I think he's very sweet. A little dim, but very sweet." She lowered her voice, huge eyes wide. "What would you say, lethallan, if I told you he's planning a land grant for the elvhen? He is. Really. A place of our own again, here in the south. So many of the humans have fled that there will be open land for us! He will declare the grant tonight!"
"The Chasind—"
"Word is that they have been decimated by the darkspawn. If the land is uninhabited, humans will rush to claim it. Why should the People not have it instead?"
Her head spinning with the sudden possibility, Danith caught Merrill by the arm, eager to hear more. "Where? Has he fixed on a place? How wide a territory?"
"He has not fixed the grant in his mind yet. He is still mulling over the scheme, but I would do anything to make it happen."
Danith paused. How could she disagree? To have a place of their own...
Even were much of it in the cold and inhospitable south, it would be a blessing beyond compare. Even they were to found...well, not a city, but even a village of their own, it would be a home to which they could welcome their lost kin of the foul Alienages. Danith considered it more. A pity they were not being offered the land surrounding the great temple. That was a wonder. and should be known to all the elvhen. Perhaps it would be possible to build a permanent structure and move some of the artifacts to their new home. Or perhaps they should just keep the temple a secret place of pilgrimage. Bronwyn was feeling unhappy and guilty about the fate of the city dwellers who had been tricked and sold. It would not be difficult, surely, to persuade her not to divulge the location.
"You are right," she finally said. "To have a homeland once more, I would do anything necessary, too."
Bronwyn was lingering over another helping of porridge with her remaining Wardens, when Loghain stalked in.
"Don't get up," he snorted, waving the more courteous of the companions—Cullen, Alistair, Leliana—down. He motioned Bronwyn over to the windows, well away from the table, to speak to him. Then, he thought again, and summoned Alistair as well. Scout trotted over to see him. Loghain rubbed the dog's ears absently.
Very softly, he said, "Send that mage of yours out to the southeast to keep an eye on the Dalish party. Cailan's decided to go out with them."
Briefly puzzled, Bronwyn stared at Loghain. "You mean Morrigan? In bird form?"
Alistair whispered, "He means Anders!"
This was news to her. "Anders is a shape-changer, too?" Bronwyn whispered back.
Loghain rolled his eyes. while Alistair explained.
"Yes! It all came out when we went scouting. He can take the shape of a raven. It's dead useful for scouting and he's less sulky about doing it than Morrigan." Alistair's mouth twisted at the witch's name. "He can fly high enough that he's not in danger from either the darkspawn arches or spellcasters."
Loghain said, "It's how we've been able to map out the openings in the earth east of here. We've found an Archdemon-sized one, but there are more, too. Anders has made himself useful. Send him out. Cailan feels he owes it to the elves to show what he calls 'good faith.' In his current mood, he's likely to do something remarkably stupid if they come across the darkspawn." His eyes found Anders, sitting next to Morrigan on the other side of the table. The mage grimaced comically when he realized that he was the subject of the conversation.
"See to it," Loghain ordered. "By the way, you should encourage your other mages to learn the skill. I'll be inspecting the White River Militia if Anders has anything to report." Loghain was up and out of the room, before Bronwyn could formulate a reply.
Alistair said, "Actually, it was really interesting to go scouting with Teyrn Loghain. I learned a lot. We got another look at the old Warden outpost. Loghain thinks the outpost could be rebuilt. What do you think? Wouldn't it be great to have a place of our own?"
Bronwyn could see the advantages in it. "It would be a better place for Joinings, certainly. Far more private." She raised her voice enough to be heard at the table. "Anders! we need to speak with you, if you please!"
In the end, Morrigan went with Anders, a little to Bronwyn's annoyance. Teaching Tara to be a shape-shifter sounded like a very good plan. Without Morrigan here, there was no reason not to let Tara and Zevran go off to visit the Dalish camp. Adaia was going, too. Bronwyn could not fault the elves for wanting to talk the situation out amongst themselves, but she did not want an elven clique forming within the Wardens.
Cullen was looking very depressed. Bronwyn suspected it had something to do with Tara, and she wondered if she should have a private talk with him. Brosca was sitting with him. Bronwyn could not make out the words, but the tones were determinedly cheerful and encouraging.
"We're going to the practice yard, Boss!" Brosca called out. "Everybody else already went down there. I bet Astrid wins!"
"Very likely," agreed Bronwyn.
"You coming?"
"In a bit."
She made some notes to herself, thinking about recruiting. The Ferelden Wardens now numbered eleven. Duncan had had twenty-five under his command by the end. Eleven was not enough, not even with Scout...not even with their five auxiliaries. Five, not six, since Adam Hawke would be on his way north tomorrow. Oghren was still waffling about becoming a Warden, and as for Adaia...the girl was willing enough, but Bronwyn doubted she had the skill to survive long enough to collect a vial of darkspawn blood.
She needed more Wardens, but was reluctant to pilfer from the army to do it. Well, she might very well have to pilfer, but she would prefer not to conscript anyone. It would not do any harm to make the rounds of the camp and talk to people. There must be soldiers here who felt their current situation did not allow them to achieve their full potential. There must be discontented young squires who dreamed of glory. If only they could survive the Joining!
Maybe some more Templars. Cullen had worked out well. She never saw him take lyrium anymore. That didn't mean he wasn't using, but at least he seemed to have the habit under control. Templars were trained warriors, and it seemed to Bronwyn they could be doing a great deal more to help against the Blight. Perhaps not the Templars here, because it would make trouble for the mages, but there had been some decent men in Lothering...
There were thousands of warriors right here in Ostagar. Maybe she should have gone with Loghain on his inspection. Or maybe not. People were already talking about them quite enough.
"Come on," Brosca tried to urge Cullen from the bench in the practice yard. "Let's go beat on each other. It'll make you feel a lot better."
"I'm fine," Cullen muttered.
"No, you're not. You're all brooding and gloomy. I'll let you have the first hit free. Come on, it'll be fun!"
Sten and Alistair were squaring off against each other. The wooden practice greatsword struck Alistair's shield with a resounding "BANG!" It barely jolted Alistair, who had learned how to absord heavy blows and come out swinging before the follow-through was done. His longsword rapped the Qunari smartly across the side of his left knee.
"Well done, Alistair!" Astrid called.
Cullen did not appear to be seeing the bout. "Tara went off to the elves, didn't she?"
Astrid sat down on his other side, and caught Brosca's eye. "Yes, she is visiting the elves. She said something about talking to some of the elven mages."
"She went with Zevran," Cullen muttered. "And Zevran didn't sleep in our quarters last night."
"Cullen," Astrid said, very directly. "They're an item. Really. You're going to have to get over it. Tara doesn't find human men attractive. She finds you frightening. Your height and bearing recall unpleasant experiences. And with the slavery scandal..."
"—But I'm not like that!" Cullen protested, his face drawn in pain.
"Nobody says you are," Brosca said, trying to get him to look at her. "I think you're a great guy! I don't mind being loomed over. Tara does, though."
"In the Circle," he muttered, "it didn't matter if a mage was human or elf."
Astrid took a deep breath, bit back the first thing on her mind, and then said, "No, it didn't matter. They were all prisoners. If there's anything I've learned, it's that a prison looks very different to the prisoners than it does to the guards."
"That is so true!" Brosca agreed.
"The Circle isn't..."
Brosca clicked her tongue, annoyed. "Come on, Cullen. Get real. She hadn't been allowed outside since she was six years old! It was a place where any minute she could be killed, or be turned into some sort of mindless human golem. And she was locked up and raped. By great big human guys. She's never going to want to do anything like that again. She's your friend. I think you'll have to settle for that."
"But Zevran's an assassin!"
"Yes, but he's our assassin!" Brosca shot back.
Alistair won his bout, and discarded his splintered practice sword. Astrid gave him a warm smile, and he grinned back.
"Oghren, you're up next!"
Hearing the raised voices, Leliana came over to join the gossip session. "You are talking about Zevran and Tara, yes?" she whispered. "They are such a charming couple...both so attractive." She looked at Cullen sympathetically. "She has made her choice. Her friends must support her."
Oghren walked by to join Alistair, swigging from his flask. He waggled his heavy brows at Cullen.
"Women, eh?"
The expedition was going quite well. Cailan found it pleasant to be out with his new Dalish friends, and not be cooped up behind stone walls. The rain from two nights before had soaked well into the ground. The clouds had swept away to the northeast, leaving the sky a clear and radiant blue. It was just cool enough to make marching in armor not such a dismally sweaty business. And he had a pretty girl—no, two pretty girls to keep him company.
A shout echoed over the low voices of the Dalish.
"Let me through!"
Cailan heard it, and recognized the man's voice. The Grey Warden Anders, their Healer, was pushing past the elves, his face tense and alarmed. Cailan was faintly surprised to see him. Had he followed them from Ostagar?
"Let me through! Message for the King!"
"The King's here!" Cailan called cheerfully. "Is Loghain sending me another scolding?"
After what he glimpsed from the skies, Anders' sense of humor was hiding in a cellar for the duration.
"The darkspawn are on the move!" Anders reported. "They burst out of a new tunnel—over three hundred of them! They're coming up the south branch of the valley with a band of really big genlocks in front. The genlocks are carrying heavy shields. You wouldn't see them until they hit you from the right!"
"How far away are they?" Maynriel asked urgently, before Cailan could get a world in.
"Not more than a mile," Anders said, "and they're moving fast."
"Right," said Cailan. "Lucky that we know they're on their way. We can meet them on more than equal terms."
"Cailan," Merrill said softly, "It would be best for the hunters to shoot from cover..."
"—and we should send word to Loghain," Thanovir added.
"It's been done," Anders assured him quickly. "I was scouting with Morrigan. She's gone straight to Ostagar to report."
"Well then," Cailan said, sweeping the landscape for a good vantage. Pity they had not had a chance to lay the traps. They could still leave some of them behind to trip up the creatures...
"There!" he said. "That hill! It's got some natural terraces. Archers up there and take your positions!"
Maynriel glanced at Thanovir, somewhat relieved. Not a bad choice of ground. A flat-topped hill, not as tall as some of its neighbors, but with a steep slope and some good cover. Perhaps the young shemlen was not a total loss. Quickly, they hurried the archers back and up. Faintly, in the distance, they could hear a low squawking rumble. Would they be able to get into position in time?
Anders saw Danith and gave her a yell. "Get up there with the Dalish! Where's Carver?"
"Here!"
"Stay with the King! I'm going to buy you some time!"
"Who says it has to be you?" Carver shouted, red-faced.
"Date of Joining!" Anders shouted back. "I know what I'm doing!"
Man distorted into bird: shrinking, blackening. shining feathers sprouting. Before the astonished King and the delighted Dalish, a raven took flight and sped off to the south.
"My, that was pretty!" Merrill declared. "If we live through this, I want to learn to do that!"
Note—Thank you to my reviewers: MsBarrows, Shinkansen, demonicnargles, Have Socks. will Travel, Shakespira, KnightOfHolyLight, almostinsane, karinfan123, JackOfBladesX, Kira Kyuu, Josie Lange, Jyggilag, cloud1004, Judy, Notnahtanha, Enaid Aderyn, Juliafied, mutive, chocolatebrownie12, WellspringCD, mille libri, Mystricka, The Moidart, Herebedragons66, Tyanilth, Gene Dark, Zute, What Ithacas Mean, Jenna53, Costin, Blinded in a bolthole, Dante Alighieri1308, Syntia13, euromellows, BlackCherryWhiskey, and tikigod.
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I expect that the next chapter fo The Keening Blade will be late, too. After arranging my mother's memorial and settling the estate, I'll have to go out of state to bury her ashes. It all takes time, but I'll be back on schedule again fairly soon.