Victory at Ostagar:
Chapter 79: The Mornings After
Other couples might take honeymoons, traveling to some remote hunting lodge or city. Some might retreat to their bedchambers for a week, learning each other's every secret.
Not so Bronwyn and Loghain. The most they could manage was an extra two hours the morning after their wedding, and an intimate breakfast served in Bronwyn's study. Then it was time to get back to work.
Loghain's mind was fixed on the western border. Gherlen's Halt really needed his attention. It drove Loghain mad that the political situation in Denerim made such a journey impossible. He could not risk getting snowed in on the North Road and missing the Landsmeet. Word had come that the snowfalls out west were heavy; perhaps he could trust to them to discourage the Orlesians from making any further incursions this year—at least by land. He had sent out significant supplies to shore up the garrison at the Halt, and secretly thanked Rendon Howe for this one thing: that his vicious machinations had caused Sir Norrel Haglin to be the right place at just the right time.
He brooded into his tea until Bronwyn broke the silence.
"I know Anora will want to see us before midday, but I've got to get down to the Compound and finish plans for the expedition to Soldier's Peak. If they're going to be on their way the day after tomorrow, I have places to go and people to see."
They walked together downstairs, where Loghain turned off toward his own office. Bronwyn felt terribly self-conscious, but kept her head high. The expressions of the servants seemed particularly curious today, which put her out of humor. She was even annoyed to have to step outside and walk around to the Wardens' courtyard today. Surely it was time to reopen the access from the Palace. Now that Loghain was actually married to the Warden-Commander, it was to be hoped he no longer felt the need to guard against a possible attack by the Grey Wardens. Knowing Loghain, perhaps that was overly optimistic.
Slipping through the Warden's entry felt like coming home. The servants here were staring at her, too, but their expressions were amused and kind. Mistress Rannelly bustled up from the kitchen to greet her.
"Well! Hail to the Teyrna of Gwaren!" The woman dropped her a curtsey, and then came close to look her over. "You don't seem to have taken any harm from it. Everything all right, Warden-Commander dear?"
Bronwyn gave her a hug, and together they walked down the corridor to the Wardens' Hall. "I'm wonderfully well, Rannelly. Everyone nursing a hangover?"
The housekeeper laughed. "Some of them are, indeed! Some of them have not left their beds, the slugs. Breakfast is on the table. You'll need your strength, with all your new duties."
Anders was closest to the doorway, and overheard. He snorted a laugh.
"So? How were the new duties? Onerous?"
She punched his shoulder lightly, and grinned. Annoyingly, she felt her face grow hot. She hoped the blush was not visible.
"Hush, Anders!" reproved Leliana. "We all wish the very best in your marriage, Bronwyn."
"Indeed we do, Noble One," Zevran said. There was gruff agreement from some and kind smiles from others. Morrigan merely raised a brow. Bronwyn gave her a wink, feeling generous.
"Tea! Lovely." She poured herself a mug and looked over her people. "Where are Aveline and Idunn?"
Carver looked up from feeding Magister treats to answer. "Already sparring up in the practice room. An example to us all, I suppose."
Bronwyn said, "Finish your breakfast, and then I'd like to talk to everyone here. Toliver, fetch Aveline and Idunn. Quinn, rouse anyone who's still abed. Danith, I need to discuss something with you. Let's go into the study while everyone gathers."
Danith followed her into the study, wondering what was on Bronwyn's mind so early in the morning after her marriage. It was laudable, certainly, that she did not seem to have forgotten her duty amidst all the celebrations.
When the door was closed, Bronwyn said at once. "I know that you and your Wardens have hardly had a chance to catch your breath, but I wondered if you would be up to accompanying the Soldier's Peak party tomorrow."
Danith frowned in thought. "I do not see why we could not. The halla will have rested. Nuala and Steren are used to frequent travel. Quinn and the dwarves are hardy, and Maeve and Niall have become stronger with exercise."
"Good." Bronwyn sat on the edge of the desk, and leaned forward, speaking quietly. "I did not tell everyone all the details of what we discovered there. Anders and Jowan know, but this is a very important matter that should be restricted to only a few. We did indeed find an old Warden mage living at Soldier's Peak. He survived the battle two hundred years ago with the King's forces and has lived at the Peak ever since. Yes—it's astonishing. He has created a Joining potion superior to the one we know: one that makes the Wardens stronger and renders them no longer vulnerable to the Calling—" She saw the spark of hope and interest in the Dalish girl's face, and smiled in response.
"Yes, and that's not all. Avernus—the mage's name—believes his potion will also prevent the infertility that has been the Warden's lot."
"That will be happy news for Nuala and Steren," Danith said instantly. She could not but feel flattered that Bronwyn was confiding in her. And this discovery would indeed much improve all their lives.
"And for others," Bronwyn agreed. "Jowan took this potion when we were at the Peak, and has suffered no ill effects. Indeed, it seems to have given him greater power. Jowan will study with Avernus. It is important that we learn all the old sage has to teach. I have given orders to take our stored darkspawn blood up to the Peak and there brew enough of this improved potion for all of us. Avernus also has some Archdemon blood, which will enable us to recruit yet more Wardens. I want Jowan, Leliana, Hakan, and Soren, to remain up at the Peak through the beginning of next year. There will be much work for them. However, I want the improved potion brought back to the Compound as soon as possible. Besides, once there, your comrades will probably think of additional supplies they need."
"You are the best choice to lead the return party. Furthermore, it would be good to have the aravel so you can transport the potion safely. How long you would stay is up to your discretion. I don't know how long it takes to brew the potion. You might also want to wait until Leliana and the dwarves have done a preliminary survey of the situation."
Danith thought it sounded extremely interesting. Such a journey would be more to her taste that loafing in the fleshpots of Denerim.
"We can be ready by tomorrow, Commander. I would not need all the party that came with me to Denerim. Let Ketil and Idunn rest here, and Maeve also. She has spoken of wishing to visit shops. Nuala, Steren, Quinn, and Niall would be sufficient."
"I think you're right. We're already sending a very large party as it is: Jowan, Leliana, Hakan, and Soren, and the Dryden and Wolf families. That will amount to a caravan of six wagons, plus the aravel. I'll tell everyone the plan. After our meeting, you'll want to get your aravel stocked and your people equipped."
The council was conscientiously polite and friendly when Bronwyn and Loghain joined them. The Queen actually blushed when she greeted them. Fergus came close, his arm about Bronwyn's shoulder, peering at her to see if she was well and happy. Bronwyn blushed in her turn, and then gave Fergus a grin. He gave her arm a squeeze, and then a pat, as he relinquished her to Loghain.
"I'm fine, Fergus," Bronwyn whispered.
As usual, there was much to discuss. Fergus had reports from Ser Adam Hawke and the merchant guilds of Amaranthine. The city was settling down, and a serious smuggling problem had been dealt with. Ser Adam had discovered an underground tunnel leading from a tavern to a hideout past the city walls. He had slain or imprisoned the gang operating out of it. The guilds were pleased with the outcome, not wanting the competition of cheap foreign goods. Ser Adam had also much improved the discipline and efficiency of the City Guard. Amaranthine's taxes would be paid to the Crown in a timely fashion.
"Sounds like he's doing all right up there," Wulffe remarked.
"Very well indeed," agreed Bryland, pleased that Leandra's son should be such a credit to her. He hoped that Corbus and Lothar would be just such fine young men as Adam and Carver when they grew up. As for Habren...
Due to the loyalty of an faithful servant, he had been able to prevent her from slipping into Kane Kendalls bedchamber last night. Talking to her did no good at all, of course.
"But we're practically married!" Habren had whined.
Explaining the difference between 'practically' and 'officially' was useless. Bryland set his own people to watch her, and then talked quietly with Kane himself. That young man, at least, had the sense to understand the importance of not betraying Bryland's trust in him.
"Nothing happened, my lord. I would never take advantage of her like that!"
With other couples, such enthusiasm might be indulged. Bryland, however, had no confidence in Habren's discretion or good sense. He occasionally wondered what Kane actually thought of Habren. The handsome young man was always polite and attentive to her, but now and then Bryland had thought he could see his patience fraying. And, understandably, Kane was very protective of his sisters. Habren really should moderate her tone with them. Corbus and Lothar were used to her, and understood that that was just her way; those nice little girls, however, might be hurt by some of the things Habren said to them.
The council moved on to reports from the Bannorn. The harvest was finally tallied, and had not been at all bad, despite the labor shortage. Requisitions for the army had met with a bit of resistance. Trying to feed an army of the current size for another year might prove problematic, unless the Crown started paying market prices for the grain. Granting furlough to some of the militiamen had been a popular move. Those men were not eager to go back south, however.
Fergus sighed. "It all depends on whether we're fighting darkspawn next year, or not."
Bronwyn felt the eyes turning her way, but had no predictions for them. "It's beginning to seem like we won't be fighting them at Ostagar, at least."
The talk turned to the fishing fleet, which around the kingdom had had an excellent year. The army would be eating a great deal of fish: smoked, dried, and salted. That seemed no great hardship to Bronwyn, but Wulffe pointed out that many inland folks would find it trying. After awhile, Bronwyn's mind drifted a bit from the details of cod, herring, smelt, sardines, corry, and shieldfins.
She had not yet had the opportunity to really look at her wedding presents. They had been transported to the Palace, and locked in a chamber near her own apartments. She must write her thanks to everyone as soon as possible, but secretly she looked forward to just clutching her hoard to herself, like a greedy dragon. Loghain was uninterested in the details, and had left it all to her. She had spotted an Antivan silk carpet in the pile, and wanted to pull it out and see if it were really as gorgeous as she hoped. Who had sent it to her? Right after the midday meal, she would go there with Fionn, and start listing and disposing of her wedding loot. It should be great fun.
The following day, amidst farewell kisses, cheerful insults, and best wishes, the expedition to Soldier's Peak assembled in the courtyard outside the Wardens' Compound. Bronwyn was rather concerned about it. Snow had fallen again, though lightly. If the weather turned bad, the whole party could be stuck in some dismal inn or at Vigil's Keep for the indefinite future. She did not like the idea of that group of individuals forced into close proximity for any length of time.
Those chosen for the expedition were eager to go, however, and all the supplies were ready and the wagons loaded. Chickens clucked in coops, protected by the canvas wagon tops. Resigned cows were tied behind the wagons. It was a very well-equipped expedition.
Levi Dryden was as proud as any patriarch should be. He was leading a train of three wagons, two small carts, and thirteen members of his family. More would be joining them in the spring.
"A grand day, Warden-Commander!" he called. "A grand day!"
The Wolfs had two wagons of their own. Having quite a lot of coin left from the treasure Bronwyn had given them, they had taken care to prepare themselves well for their new home. They had been warned to be very discreet about their origins, and they had been, throughout their residence at Highever House. Before they left, Bronwyn reinforced the warning, since Danith was going with the expedition. As Bronwyn passed their lead wagon, Dirk Wolf gave her respectful greetings, and one of the little boys shrilled out his thanks for his Satinalia toy. Bronwyn gave them a smile and a wave.
"Oh! This is so exciting!" cried Leliana, kissing Bronwyn again. "An adventure of my very own! You won't recognize Soldier's Peak when next you see it."
"I hope not!" Bronwyn hugged her back, laughing. Leliana grinned, and vaulted easily into her saddle. Bronwyn wanted at least two horses up at the Peak, so Quinn would ride the other, and then walk back to Denerim with Danith. Besides, riders with the caravan would make it even more intimidating to bandits.
Jowan was riding in the Wardens' wagon, on the front seat with the driver, one of the Dryden nephews. The mage was huddled in a hooded cloak, holding his small black puppy on his lap.
"Good luck, Jowan," Bronwyn said, reaching up to shake his hand. "I'm counting on you."
"You won't be disappointed, Bronwyn. I promise."
Bronwyn walked down the wagon to the back, when Hakan and Soren were playing cards. She wished them good luck, and was glad that they seemed in good spirits about the change of duty.
The aravel was ready too, and a number of Palace servants had gathered around it and the halla, curious and some of them even admiring.
"The halla are glad to be traveling today, Commander!" said Steren.
"I hope you like Soldier's Peak. The way up to the castle is something of a climb, but the highlands are quite beautiful."
Danith said goodbye to Cathair and Zevran, and approached, herself in good spirits at the prospect of the march. "I have never been in that part of the Coast Mountains. It will be interesting."
Bronwyn nodded, almost sorry she was not going herself. "It's very secluded; very wild. It's hard to tell at this time of year, but it looks like good grazing land."
They both turned to stare at Niall, who had found himself some new light armor in the stores, and looked…not much like a mage. He had also sensibly provided himself with a good cloak and some fine, fur-lined boots. He blushed and grinned.
"You look very nice!" Maeve called to him. "Have fun storming the castle!"
"You're not sorry to be staying?" Bronwyn asked her.
"I'd like to see the place someday, Commander, but maybe after Leliana fixes it up. I've never had the chance to see the shops in Denerim before, and I love the Compound. Mistress Rannelly's letting me help with the knitting. It's so relaxing."
She ran after Quinn, interrogating him about the number of clean socks in his saddlebag. Bronwyn smiled, once again struck by how different people could be. Nan had tried to teach her to knit, and Bronwyn had hated it so much that she had hid under the kitchen table whenever Nan pulled out her work bag.
Danith gave her a slight bow. "Dareth'n arla, Commander."
"A safe journey to you, Danith."
Bronwyn was pleased by the civility of their parting and worked on recalling the words Danith had said to her. She moved over to Cathair, who was a little melancholy to bid farewell so soon to his fellow Dalish, and asked him what they meant.
"'Dwell in safety,' Commander. It is a courteous farewell. The correct reply is 'Dareth shiral,' which means "Safe journey.'"
"Really?" Bronwyn asked, pleased that she and Danith had at last said the right things to each other. It gave her quite a bit of hope for the future. "Dareth'n arla," she repeated. "If it is convenient for you at some time, Cathair, I would very much appreciate it if you could teach me more Dalish. Especially the courtesies."
"That would please me as well."
So the party ventured forth together: a long line of horsemen, carts, and wagons, made exotic by the presence of a Dalish aravel pulled by delicate-looking halla. People crowded at the gates to see them, wondering at the sight. Those remaining at the Compound waved until the gates closed, and then returned to the tasks at hand.
"We're the lucky ones," Ketil told Toliver. "there's nothing like the Pearl up at the Peak!"
Once the expedition to Soldier's Peak was gone, life took on a different aspect. Bronwyn had to struggle to insert her sword practice into her day. Like Loghain, she found the only way to do it was to get up quite early in the morning before most other nobles were stirring. So it was down to the Compound at the crack of down, a hearty breakfast and then practice. And then, the rest of the world awaited her.
There were some consolations. Sleeping with Loghain was very pleasant—in addition to the activities that preceded and succeeded said sleep. He was quite tolerant of her occasional nightmares. Proximity had led to him being more forthcoming about his ideas and plans. She, in turn, confided her own.
"If you want to play Lady Patroness with the Alienage, you want to be quiet about it," he advised. "The Arl of Denerim won't like his toes stepped on—especially a new Arl, unsure in his holding. Start with what can be done, and don't talk people's ears off."
He was right, of course. Pushing too hard would cement resistance, especially from those who liked keeping elves in what they considered their places. On the other hand, there were things that were well within her power.
She now had from Valendrian the list of property holders of the Alienage buildings, and thus knew which were royal properties, and which belonged to the Arling of Denerim. Other owners were listed, and that was revealing: the Bannorn of South Docks was a large owner, of course, but a number of owners were under assumed names or were business or guild associations. No other major noble owned property there. She had brought up the squalor of the Alienage in a casual way with Kane Kendalls, but in his bland smiles she had sensed no real interest. It would be the royal holdings, or nothing. She waspleased to find that the derelict orphanage was a royal holding, currently generating no income at all. She should go have a look at it. Possibly it could be renovated. Possibly it should simply be knocked down, and something else constructed in its place. Perhaps a decent apartment building... She arranged a time to go to the Alienage with Zevran and Cathair to look things over... and to look in again at little Amethyne and hear how she liked her lessons. Yes. there were practical things she could do to improve Alienage life when she was Queen.
Anora cornered her about a pet plan of her own that she hoped to interest Bronwyn in.
"A university?" Bronwyn asked. "Oh! I believe I know what you mean. That place for scholars in Orlais that the Chantry is so unhappy about."
"Ferelden needs to take its place among the civilized nations of Thedas," Anora declared. "A library and a university would attract the best minds... and keep our own best at home."
Bronwyn could see the value of such an institution—in theory, but was not sure how it would be paid for. It would generate no income, and would require heavy investment. It would offend the Chantry. On the other hand, she had no desire to offend Anora, either.
"I don't know anything about the University of Orlais," she confessed. "I need to understand more: how they operate, what they learn, how the funds are arranged."
Anora beamed, and promised to send her a prospectus and an armful of scholarly treatises. Bronwyn forbore to groan with horror. The promise was kept, and Bronwyn glanced through the works on higher mathematics, astronomy and the history of Tevinter bridge-building when she had a free moment or two. She did not want to refuse Anora outright, but this would clearly have to wait until the Blight was over and won.
"I knew I would be busy when I married," she confessed laughingly to Anders, one morning at the Wardens' Compound. "But not this busy! And it's mostly fluff: dinners and dances with the nobles; chats with the Queen. Important fluff, of course, but one longs for more substance."
"You only have to get through the Landsmeet," he consoled her. "Once you're safely Queen, you can grind them—and us—under your bootheel."
"The officer of the day found quarters for them in Fort Drakon, ser. They were pretty worn out from travel."
Loghain was pleased to hear that the mages he had summoned from Ostagar had arrived at last. From the soldier's report, the weather had been unpleasant, and the oxcarts had moved slowly up the West Road. The Templars had made some difficulties, too. The soldier produced the regular dispatch from Cauthrien for Loghain and a letter for Bronwyn from Alistair. That was a thick packet that probably contained more than one message.
Loghain instructed the man to tell Uldred that he and his second were to report to the commander's office at the fort after their noonday meal, and then dismissed the fellow with his thanks.
He opened Cauthrien's letter at once. Good news, mostly. The darkspawn continued to diminish in strength. Patrols continued and swept out ever farther. The darkspawn they found were inferior sorts, and no darkspawn mages had been seen in nearly a month. The Wardens and dwarves had explored the tunnels underneath the area, and confirmed the darkspawn retreat. Only pockets remained. There was debate among the dwarves about the feasibility of collapsing the big openings that the horde had issued from. Some felt that barrier doors in the Deep Roads might be the answer, but the closest choke point would be northeast of Ostagar, near the entrance at Lake Belennas. The general consensus was that the horde had moved north. There had been no significant casualties since last she wrote, and no deaths at all.
There had been some confrontations between mages and Chantry at Ostagar. Mainly, the mages felt that Templars were arrogant and superfluous: they risked nothing, as they did not themselves fight against the darkspawn; but they tried to use their authority to control the comings and goings of the mages. There had been an ugly incident involving a Templar and a female Tranquil. It had roused the mages to real anger. The Chantry had done its best to quash the matter, and the Tranquil had been returned to the Circle. The Templars and priests, on the other hand, were angry about the growing fraternization between soldiers and mages. A soldier and a mage had asked permission to marry, and the priests had refused to perform the ceremony. There was an attempt to send the mage back to the Circle, but Cauthrien had intervened, since the mage was serving with the army. She had sent the mage to Denerim with Uldred's band, since otherwise there was a real chance that she and her sweetheart might desert together.
The dwarves were getting bored, which was not a good thing. Warden Alistair had proposed an exploration of the Deep Roads from Ostagar to the Lake Belennas access point. It seemed a good scheme to Cauthrien, and would be put into action within the next three days. If that was successful, the dwarves would return to Ostagar and attempt a similar probe of the Deep Roads route to Gwaren.
The elves were not exactly bored, but were unhappy with the cold of Ostagar. Their leaders wished to withdraw at least a portion of their forces north into the Brecilian Forest. They were not leaving the war, they said, but it looked like the war was leaving them.
Loghain considered Cauthrien's letter, and then decided that Bronwyn should be at the meeting with the newly-arrived mages. She, too, had mages under her command, and might have insights to share. Besides, the mages were technically Warden allies, rather than allies of the kingdom of Ferelden. As soon as the Queen's Council finished for the day, he gave her the news, along with Alistair's letter. She tucked it away, promising herself the pleasure of reading it later.
"We can get a bit to eat at the Fort," he told her. "Let's go there now."
Bronwyn had a fairly good idea what he had planned for these mages and was glad enough to be included. She fell into step beside him on the chilly walk to the looming fortress, rather pleased at the outing.
"Anders doesn't much care for Uldred," she remarked.
"It was my impression that he didn't much care for anything about the Circle."
"He had some good friends there. Still does, I gather. Uldred's a bit older, and in his student days Anders found him haughty and unhelpful."
"Then I suppose it's a good thing they won't be working together. Uldred's a powerful mage. He proved useful during the Redcliffe affair, and he certainly didn't shrink from a fight."
"I remember the first time I saw him. He was making a perfectly reasonable suggestion when Revered Mother Clarine put her oar in. Sister Justine sent word that she's back in Denerim, and angry as a scalded cat at being replaced. Horrible woman."
"I agree. The Grand Cleric would do well to keep her muzzled. Send her to a cloister perhaps."
Bronwyn had never visited Fort Drakon. It was very much the citadel of the Fereldan Army, and she was not part of that at all. Even on her visits to Denerim as a child this had not been part of the tour—not hers, anyway: she knew that Fergus had gone there with Father on a number of occasions, and of course he had been there often since. She hoped there would be time for a proper tour of the place.
The guards showed off their best drill for the General of the Army, and goggled discreetly at the General's new wife.
The commander of the fortress greeted them, of course: a business-like professional soldier. Loghain treated him with the ease of established confidence and mutual respect. They joined the officers' mess—decent, plain food—and Bronwyn could see that it was not Loghain's presence, but her own, that inhibited some of them. To them, she was here as "Teyrna Bronwyn" rather than as the Warden-Commander of the Grey. It seemed best to play the former part to some degree, and she was friendly and civil, rather than forcing them to accept her as one of them. The meal broke up with some general talk. Loghain clearly knew all these men and women quite well, and their families, too. A soldier entered and whispered in the commander's ear.
"The mages are awaiting you in the parlor, my lord," the commander said. While they headed in that direction, Loghain quickly gave Bronwyn a brief summary of Cauthrien's news.
Bronwyn remembered Gwyneth, the pale blonde woman with Uldred. She was one of the mages that Bronwyn had recruited at the Circle. The woman remembered her, too, and her face relaxed into a slight but genuine smile. Both mages looked exhausted. Uldred, however, was his usual ingratiating self.
"Teyrn Loghain," he bowed. Turning to Bronwyn, he bowed again, "And Teyrna Bronwyn. May I offer my felicitations?"
"You may." Bronwyn granted him a smile. "It is good to see both of you. We heard your journey was difficult." With that, she retreated to let Loghain take the lead. She wondered how much the mages knew about the recent events in Denerim: the poisoning of the Queen; her healing by a mage; the ransacking of the Chantry and its current lack of influence. Knowing how mages gossiped, she suspected they knew quite a bit.
Loghain wanted their report about the situation in Ostagar and the south of the country. The mages were pointed to chairs, and could tell an interesting, coherent story. It largely agreed with Cauthrien's report.
Darkspawn sightings in the vicinity of Ostagar and Wilds had continued to decline in frequency. Soldiers, Wardens, and mages continued to patrol, and it was the consensus that the horde was no longer in the area. No one thought the Blight was over, but they hoped and prayed it had gone somewhere else. Loghain asked about specific locations and numbers, and elicited quite a bit of useful intelligence.
"And how would you describe morale at Ostagar, Senior Enchanter?" Loghain asked.
Uldred and Gwyneth glanced at each other. Gwyneth looked like she wanted to talk, but subsided at Uldred's frown. With a positively oily smile, the Senior Enchanter said. "I am happy to report that that relations within the army and its allies are for the most part very good. Soldiers think well of those who stand with them and heal their wounds."
"Of course," Loghain agreed.
Thus encouraged, Uldred went on. "Elves and dwarves have no problems with mages at all. Quite the contrary. Some of the elven mages of the Circle have made good friends among the Dalish Keepers, and both groups are enjoying a very fruitful exchange of knowledge and lore."
Loghain grunted noncommittally.
"—In fact," Uldred paused. "In fact, the only significant differences involve the Chantry's continued attempts to control every aspect of our existence. The Templars find their safe and easy existence in camp rather dull, and enliven it with abusing those in their power."
"All of them?" Bronwyn asked.
"No," Uldred said, with a judicious show of fairness. "Not all. However, even one rotten apple can make life very difficult for those of us in the barrel with him. The Tranquil cannot protect themselves from predators. They are not capable of refusing even the most depraved demands. There was an egregious episode, and the Templar is still in our midst."
Loghain raised his brows. "I am glad to hear that you mages have shown restraint."
Gwyneth burst out, "And not just that! Poor Vivien had to be sent north with us for her own protection! Just because she wanted to get married!" She blushed, and ducked her head. "Sorry, my lord... my lady. And we heard that Wynne was dead."
Loghain glanced at Bronwyn, knowing how upset that always made her. Uldred also took notice of Bronwyn's expression.
"No doubt you will find some of the recent events here in Denerim extremely interesting," Loghain said, his face impassive. "You may also have heard that a young apostate was given her freedom from Chantry control due to her signal services to the kingdom. That is not going to figure in our conversation today. You are here because you have proved your worth. If the soldiers at Ostagar can learn to live with mages, so too can the rest of the army, and the city of Denerim as well."
Uldred was practically on the edge of his seat.
Loghain said, "You and I have discussed more freedom for Fereldan's mages in the past. I am not precisely offering you freedom at this point. What I can offer is a much longer leash. As the Blight continues, it might be that the mages' situation will evolve."
Uldred's brows went up. Past Blights had lasted for decades. If they could accustom those in power to accepting mages, then who knew...
Loghain interrupted his thoughts. "Make no mistake: this is conditional. If mages abuse their new positions... if we have demons and abominations running rampant, then the mages will be shut back up in the Circle, and the key thrown away."
"My lord, I can assure you—"
Loghain put up his hand for silence. "You will act as liaison with your mages, and help in placing them in various companies. A mage will receive pay equivalent to that of a sub-lieutenant, and will be under the orders of his or her company commander. No Templars will be permit to interfere. Choose a particularly good Healer to be assigned to permanent duty here at Fort Drakon. Our soldiers deserve the best."
Uldred was looking almost giddy. "My lord! I will do everything you—"
"You will serve in my personal guard, and will be paid a captain's wages. As officers, you mages will all be expected to conduct yourself appropriately. You will obey the orders of your superior officers and perform your duties to the fullest extents of your powers. It would also be extremely prudent to do nothing to provoke the Chantry further."
Bronwyn said, "Some of my Warden mages have chosen to wear armor when on duty, rather than robes. You might consider it."
Gwyneth blinked large blue eyes, and told her, "The Templars don't allow us to wear anything other than robes. And we've no coin of our own."
Loghain was nodding. "Wearing armor is actually quite a good idea. Give some consideration to the matter, Senior Enchanter. Robes offer little protection when in combat against darkspawn... or anything else. We have large stores of various kinds of armor here in the fortress."
After more talk, the mages were dismissed, clearly excited about their prospects. Bronwyn could no longer wait to read her letter from Alistair.
"I've just got to," she told Loghain, and used her belt knife to pop the seal of the parchment packet. A number of folded notes tumbled out.
"Here's a letter from Adaia to the Alienage hahren and a bit of money... for her father. It looks like Alistair wrote it for her. I'll have to get that delivered. A letter from Emrys to his uncle Stronar. That's sealed, of course. A letter from Petra to Anders... Here's Alistair's letter to me. Want to hear it?"
"Does he have anything pertinent to say about the military situation?"
She made a face a him, and began reading:
Dear Bronwyn—
How are you? I am fine. The weather here is really, really cold. Adaia's been nice about mending my socks. And shirts. And pants."
Loghain rolled his eyes. Bronwyn cleared her throat.
"Things are pretty good, considering. We find fewer and fewer darkspawn all the time. Yesterday I was all over that part of the Wilds west of Flemeth's hut, and you'd hardly guess that the darkspawn had ever been there. Petra wonders if freezing the Taint doesn't work just as well as burning it. She's doing some experiments with it. That could be good down here in the south, where the ground freezes hard. Maybe next spring won't be so bad after all. I wish I knew more about how recovery from a Blight works. Petra asks me all sorts of questions, and sometimes I feel like a complete idiot. I wish there was a Grey Warden Manual somewhere. "The Compleat Grey Warden." Ha-ha. I could use it. Really. Not kidding."
"I know exactly how he feels," Bronwyn said, a little bitterly.
Loghain cocked his head. "Interesting idea about hard frost. Other Blights were farther north, and of course it never freezes in the Deep Roads. We'll hope there's something in that."
Bronwyn went on:
"I had an idea, and some people didn't think it's ridiculous. We—I mean Wardens and the dwarves—are going to see how far we can get going up the Deep Roads from here in Ostagar toward Lake Belannas. I promise that if things get hairy, we'll turn back. We might also check out the Gwaren Road. That way, when you come back, you can walk all the way to your new teyrnir and never get rained on! Admit it, I am a true friend. Hello to Teyrn Loghain, by the way. And I mean that really, really respectfully."
Bronwyn smiled archly at Loghain, who grunted in response.
"Everybody's doing great here. Pretty much. Sten has never been so cold before, but of course he's all stern-faced and stoic about it. When we don't have darkspawn to fight, sometimes we go to the workshop and make bombs. Master Dworkin has come up with some pretty weird stuff. Then we take them out away from the camp and see what they do."
"What a pack of children," scoffed Loghain.
"Speaking of weird stuff, Oghren found a barrel of apples and used them to make something he called ale. It was strong enough to kill the Archdemon. People paid him for it.
Our new Wardens are working out great. Emrys is really smart and friendly. He's something like you but with a deeper voice, naturally. Nevin never loses his temper about anything. Siofranni's made good friends with Adaia, and the dwarf girls help Petra boss me around all the time. All the time. I am surrounded by women who boss me, including Ser Cauthrien, who is pretty scary.
That made Loghain smile a little. He had helped raise Cauthrien, after all.
We've heard some wild stuff out of Denerim. I hope the Queen is all right.
If I get rid of all the darkspawn around Ostagar, can I come back to the Compound? Please? That would be great.
Your friend and brother,
Alistair
"Poor boy," Bronwyn said. "Really, Loghain, it looks like we'll have to wrap up operations in Ostagar eventually. A garrison should stay, but not the force we have there now. At least I could furlough my Wardens, a few at a time. Alistair deserves a rest."
"After the Landsmeet, perhaps," said Loghain. "Now, what about seeing Denerim from the top of Fort Drakon?"
On the the twenty-fourth, the soon-to-be-official Arl of Redcliffe finally made his appearance. The prospect of meeting Teagan Guerrin, a person whom she suspected would prove a political opponent, filled Bronwyn with a certain unease. Word was brought to them that morning, in the course of the Queen's council. From the quick glances in the room, she could tell that she was not the only one who looked upon Teagan's arrival as a harbinger of challenge and dissent. Arl Wulffe instantly took the initiative and invited everyone on the council to join him for their midday meal. An message as sent to the Arl of Redcliffe's estate, urging the Arl and Arlessa to join them. When they had a moment alone, Bronwyn unburdened herself to Loghain.
"So Teagan has finally made his dramatic entrance," Brownyn said acidly. "Clever of him to time it just after our wedding, lest he seem to give tacit approval by his presence."
"He'll be coming to the council tomorrow," Loghain said, shrugging. "We'll see what he has to say. I was wondering if he meant to put off his arrival until the night before the Landsmeet, though that would hardly have been politic. If he wants his own marriage recognized, he has to recognized those of others."
"Even my cousin Leonas' wedding," Bronwyn said primly. "So shocking! A woman who gave birth to a mage. Hardly something any proper Guerrin would countenance." She saw Loghain's expression, and laughed lightly. "Don't worry! I won't throw his late sister-in-law in his face, though I'll be tempted if he gives trouble."
"I would think," Loghain said grimly, "that your sympathy for the mages would cause you not to mention the events at Redcliffe at all. That was exactly the sort of thing that proves the Chantry's point. A mage outside the Circle went berserk, became an abomination, and slaughtered half a village. Killed his own mother, too. Doesn't help you make the case for mage independence."
Bronwyn made a face, but had to agree. "I suppose not. Though Arlessa Isolde's hypocrisy and and secrecy are largely to blame. She's the one most at fault, in my opinion."
"Of course she is," Loghain said, "but she's dead."
"Very well," Bronwyn sighed. "I shall try quite another tactic. I shall be sickeningly nice to Arlessa Kaitlyn —who really seems quite a sweet girl—and also to her little brother, thus making a flank attack on Guerrin family unity."
"Sounds good to me."
The Guerrins accepted Wulffe's invitation. Bronwyn's flank attack appeared to work well. Either Arlessa Kaitlyn was a brilliant actress and accomplished schemer, or Teagan did not confide his political views to her. Bronwyn tended to think the latter, though she did not dismiss the idea of the girl, even as young as she was, being a dissembler. For now, at least, she would try friendship.
Teagan himself treated her with bland courtesy, saying all the proper things. She could not but sense his deep suspicion and disapproval of her. He did not mention Alistair to her.
Loghain's puppy was a pleasant topic of conversation, and the talk, while guarded, was not hostile. Talking about dogs always brought out the best in Fereldans. For that matter. Bronwyn was a little amused at her new husband's high standards of behavior for little Amber, but she was his dog, and seemed to thrive on his measured doses of affection and discipline. Had he tried that with Anora? Unlikely. From what she could gather, Loghain had had little hand in raising his daughter—at least in her early childhood.
They rode back to the Palace, and discovered that they could steal a hour or so for themselves. It was rather pleasant to slip out of their finery and then into bed, for love and some quiet talk together while they lay in each other's arms. Bronwyn loved these times. There was something to be said for conversing with a naked man, even if the man tended to talk mostly of the kingdom's affairs.
"I should be out at Gherlen's Halt, seeing what the Orlesians are up to. No help for it. Teagan didn't show his hand today. I wonder what he has planned for the Landsmeet?
'"I don't see how he can really plan much. He has to be confirmed himself and have his marriage recognized. He's not in a very good position to make trouble. I confess I was afraid he'd go to Ostagar and demand that Alistair come to Denerim with him. That doesn't seem to have happened though. Poor Alistair. All he wants is to be a Warden. I hope Teagan leaves him alone."
Loghain grunted agreement. "Listen here. If the vote goes our way—and I have no reason to suspect it won't—let's have the coronation right away. You don't have to have some sort of fancy new gown, do you? Wear your wedding dress or that thing Teagan gave you. That's nice."
"I had thought…" Her voice trailed away, and then she smiled. All things considered, there was absolutely no way she was wearing a gown given to her by Teagan Guerrin to her coronation. He would likely take it as a smug slap in the face.
"Loghain, why don't we both wear armor? You in your River Dane plate and I in my Flemeth suit. We're at war, and that should be acknowledged. Let's just show up at the Landsmeet in armor, but with no helmets. They can crown us in armor, and then we can get on with the rest of the Landsmeet."
He mulled that over, liking the idea more and more. "You're sure you wouldn't mind?"
"Absolutely! My armor is spiffier than any gown. Do let's be crowned in armor, Loghain."
"All right! We'll just have the seneschal put out both thrones in the Landsmeet chamber, and then have the ceremony there. Think you can put up with the sneers of the Orlesians?"
That made her laugh. "As if I care what they think! Actually, there will plenty of Fereldan ladies who'll think I'm unwomanly. Too bad for them. At least in armor it's harder for the ladies to stare at my stomach, trying to see if I'm pregnant."
He sputtered. "After—what? Ten days? Not even Habren Bryland could be that silly."
"How little you know women. Especially women like Habren Bryland. Being silly is what she does best."
Someone knocked at the door. Bronwyn thought it must be Fionn, though it was harder than usual. The voice accompanying it , however, was not Fionn's.
"Your Grace! There's trouble at the Warden Compound. Warden Danith is back and her party was attacked. She says she needs to speak to you right away!"
"Is she with you?"
"Yes, Your Grace. She was sure you'd want to hear the news at once."
"Steady on. Let me get up and throw on a robe." She pushed the curtains aside. What had Danith seen? She snatched up her scarlet robe and tied it securely, and then tossed Loghain's through the curtains. A sinewy hand reached out and caught it deftly.
"Of course," he pointed out, "there's probably no need for me to dress. I could quietly eavesdrop from within the bed."
"You don't get off so easily, and you can't eavesdrop on Wardens' business," she said flatly. "It would be bad for morale."
"Not for mine."
"Besides," Bronwyn hissed, "She can undoubtedly hear your voice, if not understand your words. Therefore she knows you're here, unless you wish her to believe that I talk to myself like a lunatic, and in two different voices, at that."
"I'm up, I'm up. And out, if need be."
She let him get up, and even let him put on his sheepskin-lined house shoes before calling "Enter."
The door opened, and Danith came in. After so many days living the luxurious life of a Fereldan teyrna, Bronwyn instantly caught the reek of travel and battle. Danith's face was bruised, and there was a fresh cut on one fine cheekbone.
"Are you all right?" she asked. "Come in and sit down." She raised her voice to the servant. "Bring us all some tea. And something to eat, for Maker's sake."
"Should I leave?" Loghain asked. "Does this involve Warden secrets?"
Danith blushed and looked away, away that she had stared at the imposing sight of Loghain in a dressing gown and bare ankles for a little too long.
"No…. no… Teyrn Loghain," she added conscientiously. "You must hear this as well. We were attacked today on our way through the Wending Wood. By darkspawn."
The news that darkspawn were half a day from Denerim was shocking enough. What Danith had to report about them was even more disturbing.
"We were on our way back from Soldier's Peak. We spent the night at Vigil's Keep, and the seneschal was most civil. He had something of concern to report to us. Had we not been ordered to return as soon as soon as possible, we would have stayed to investigate his claim that his men had discovered a connection to the Deep Roads with his dungeons."
Bronwyn blinked. "That's not good. We'll have to tell Nathaniel right away. Go on."
"I have traveled through that forest before without harm, so it alarmed me that it was so still. As the road curved past the entrance of an old mine, I sensed darkspawn. Almost immediately we were set upon. The darkspawn leader…" Danith hesitated. "Talked."
"Spoke actual words?" Bronwyn asked, appalled. "It really was a darkspawn? What did he say?"
"His voice was hoarse and unnatural, but I am sure he said. 'Take the Grey Wardens! The Architect commands it!' Niall heard him, too. Actually," she admitted with a touch of embarrassment, "I did not know that word, 'Architect.' Niall told me what it meant. Then a strong warband fell upon us: seven with the talking one, who was a mighty warrior. If Niall—and Quinn—had not been with us, we would have been killed or taken."
"Were any of your people hurt?"
"Nuala was badly wounded. The darkspawn wanted to take her alive-take us all alive. It seemed that their plan was for us to vanish, and for no one to know what became of us. It is good that we had the aravel. The darkspawn misjudged our numbers, for Quinn and Niall were riding in it. It is a marvel that Quinn was not killed. He fought most bravely, and… saved my life."
"He's a good lad," Bronwyn agreed, her mind racing with the story. The Architect? Hadn't she heard of someone called the Architect?
"Tell us the rest," said Loghain, eyes fixed on the elf.
"The darkspawn we slew. Other than the speaker, the darkspawn were very ordinary. We dispatched them easily. The one who spoke was cunning and dangerous. Niall froze him repeatedly and leached away at his power as we struck our blows. Finally, Quinn hewed off his head. Before that, the creature told us he was called "The Disciple," and that we were fools to defy the Architect. I could sense more darkspawn in the wood—not a large party—but enough, but we were too weakened to linger. I thought it best to report this at once, instead."
"You did absolutely right!" Bronwyn explained. "I'm glad to see you alive." She turned to Loghain and saw that he was frowning, lost in thought.
"The Architect…" he murmured. "The Architect…"
Bronwyn had a most uneasy feeling. Was this the same Architect that featured in Fiona's story? How much did Loghain know about it? "Have you heard of such a being before? Seen it?"
"No, not seen it, but I overheard Duncan and Maric on occasion… " He thought quickly, and decided that truth was best. He had put this out of his mind years ago, but who knew how long darkspawn could live?
"About twenty years ago, as you know, the Grey Wardens came back to Ferelden. The Warden-Commander, Genevieve, had lost her brother in the Deep Roads. Originally, they asked me to help, because I'd been in Ortan Thaig during the rebellion. I refused, and then Maric decided it would be a lark to go. He ran off, without telling me—without even saying good bye to his little son. Duncan was in the party; a young Warden then."
He snorted. "It was all a ruse by the Orlesians, of course. Maric ended up being taken prisoner at the Circle and was nearly killed. I had to haul his chestnuts out of the fire. As usual. When I found him, there was this strange darkspawn that begged us to kill it."
"It spoke? In actual words?"
"Yes. And Maric allowed it to be killed. I wanted to question the bloody thing."
"It mentioned a being called the Architect?"
"Yes! It's been a long time, but I recall it talking about something called the Architect, who was apparently an intelligent, talking darkspawn. It was trying to recruit Grey Wardens for some purpose of its own. Maric said that the darkspawn I saw was the remains of the Warden that Commander Genevieve was searching for. This Architect creature had tainted him further, and the Warden now looked entirely like a darkspawn. Maric was a fool to get involved with the business at all."
He saw the stricken looks on the two women's faces, and said gruffly. "The affair was over. Maric was saved, the Orlesian plot thwarted, and Genevieve and her brother were dead. Maric didn't tell me anything else, citing 'Warden secrets,' but Duncan stayed in Ferelden afterwards as Commander. I know they had private little chats, but they volunteered nothing else to me. I suppose I thought that whatever this Architect was, it was dead, too."
It was all coming back now. Riordan and Fiona, months ago at the Joinings in the Frostbacks, had told her their own version of this story. It had never occurred to Bronwyn that she might actually come across this Architect being herself. The details involved Grey Warden secrets, and she preferred not to share them with Loghain, who would be angry that she had kept them from him earlier. She had already told him enough.
Calmly, she said, "I must confess that any hint of talking darkspawn is news to me. Worrying news, at that. I'll gather my people and we'll head up the Pilgrim's Path immediately."
"Not alone," he said. "I'll go with you."
Obviously, the Queen and her council must be informed. There was general consternation at the news.
"Do you think that the Archdemon is upon us?" Bryland asked, face drawn.
"I do not," Bronwyn assured them all. "I would sense the presence of the Archdemon. This Architect being is in some sense a renegade, commanding a small band of his own. Somehow, he is not subject to the song of the Archdemon. The reason I think that he has only a small band is that he would not wish to attract the attention and enmity of the Archdemon. That is why he withdrew so far away from where the horde was seen. That does not mean he is not dangerous. He must be dealt with swiftly, and without hesitation."
Nathaniel was horrified to learn that there were darkspawn in his arling, and vowed to stand with the Wardens. Fergus, too, could raise a substantial force on short notice. Loghain, of course, would take the companies of Maric's Shield here in the capital, each with their own mage. And Uldred, of course, would accompany him.
"Darkspawn like to hide in caves or tunnels," Bronwyn said. "Danith said they passed a large mine. Nathaniel, do you know of any place along the Pilgrim's Path that fits that description?"
"There are a number of mines in the general area. In the part of Wending Wood where your people were attacked?" He thought a moment, and then gave a quick nod. "Yes! There's a big silverite mine not far from there."
Loghain rolled out a map of Amaranthine, and Nathaniel found the spot, "There. It's been closed a few years. The owner lost everything in a business venture gone wrong. Father was thinking about taking it over. It goes deep, from all accounts."
Then Brownyn had to give him the disturbing news that Varel had discovered a link between the dungeons of Vigil's Keep and the Deep Roads. She had brought her own maps of the Deep Roads and pencilled in a dotted line. The maps of eastern Ferelden she had found in the Shaperate were old and smudged. However, the Amgarrak Road clearly connected old Kal'Hirol with the rest of the dwarven empire. They knew of the access point near the Dragonbone Wastes. Kal'Hirol was not far at all from Vigil's Keep. That there was a branch of the Deep Roads, or at least a connecting tunnel, was not surprising.
"This Architect," she said, "this master darkspawn, would not be traveling overland. If he is in the Wending Woods, he got there underground. If we attack him at the mine entrance, he will flee below and then our chance of catching him will be compromised. If, however, we can divert his attention while preparing an attack from the rear, we might deal with him quickly. I shall take a party and leave tonight, and we don't want the Architect to see us. Instead, I propose that my party goes west to the East Hafter Road, and then follow the river north to Vigil's Keep. From there we will travel the Deep Roads to the mine. I'll have dwarves in the party, and their stone-sense will guide us."
"And I," said Loghain, "will take the main force tomorrow and march up to the entrance to the mine and dig in there. We'll not be in any hurry, but we'll be in position by mid-morning. The creatures won't be able to escape. I'll order a general advance at noon."
Nathaniel had an idea of his own. "I'll go with you to Vigil's Keep, Bronwyn. And better than riding all the way, we can commandeer a couple of the river barges on the East Hafter. That will give your people a chance to rest. We'll be at Vigil's Keep by dawn."
Plans were made and troops rallied. Bronwyn gave some thought to who she would take with her. Loghain must have some Wardens, too. Anders had healed the worst of Nuala's wounds, and the rest must be left to time and the care of Steren. Those two, then, would remain at the Compound. Everyone else was going north.
Danith must obviously go with Loghain, and direct him to the exact spot where the attack took place. He would send out additional scouts to hunt down any darkspawn haunting the Wending Wood. With her would go Niall, Quinn, and Maeve. They were used to working together. though Quinn was less interested by their battle in the Woods than he was in babbling about the wonders of Soldier's Peak to Maeve and anyone else who would listen.
There was only a moment to take Danith aside.
"Did Avernus succeed in brewing the potion?"
Danith actually smiled. "He did. We all drank it, with no ill affects. Indeed, I believe our success against the strange darkspawn was largely due to our greater powers. Nuala would be dead without it. The creature underestimated not only our numbers, but also our skills."
Very pleased and relieved, Bronwyn put a hand on Danith's forearm. "You've done very well. I'll call the Wardens in before we leave for their own doses. It's too good an advantage to forego."
A brief conference was called in the study. The door was locked, and the potion distributed to every one of them: Anders and Aveline; Carver and Cathair; Idunn, Ketil, Toliver, and Maeve. Bronwyn downed her dose with the rest.
A brief, intense pain; a sudden burst of life and energy; a new understanding. Bronwyn straightened up and looked at her Wardens, they looked back, astonished and grinning.
"That," Anders declared, "is good stuff. That is the real thing. If feel like I could run all the way to Vigil's Keep without boots."
Bronwyn said, "Avernus has been working on improving the Joining formula for years. Jowan tried it first, and it seemed to do him good. Not only does Avernus believe that this frees us from the the Calling, but that we will no longer be infertile. For that reason, I suggest everyone be prudent. He thinks we'll have increased strength, stamina, and dexterity. Our current adventure will be the test of that."
"Damn," muttered Idunn, "Guess I'll have to brew that stinking contraceptive tea again. Not turning into a ghoul is good, though."
"Damn straight it is," grunted Ketil. "This gives a fellow a real boost."
They had enough time to arm and armor themselves, while the staff packed them each some rations. Those Wardens such as Idunn and Ketil, who did not know how to ride, sat behind those who did. Little baskets was arranged for Magister and the other puppy, so they could ride with Carver. Within the hour, the Wardens and the Arl of Amaranthine and his men were in the saddle and on the move, galloping on the West Road and then up the connecting lane to the nearest boat landing, at the tiny village of Upperhafter.
It took all of Nathaniel's authority to rouse the boatmen and get a pair of barges moving. The moon was bright enough for navigation, and once they understood who they were conveying, the boatmen did their best to make their passengers comfortable. Bronwyn accepted their hospitality in the spirit it was offered, and knew herself lucky to catch four hours sleep in a cramped little cabin. Late as the hour was, Bronwyn fell asleep quickly, even in full armor, lulled by the slow gurgle of the water as they floated downstream to Vigil's Keep.
Thanks to my reviewers: Adventfather, Robbie the Phoenix, Girl-chama, KnightOfHolyLight, Embertoinferno, Chandagnac,Notnahtanha, Oleander's One, Phygmalion, Verpine, Jygglilag, Rexiselic, Mike3207, Guest, almostinsane, MsBarrows, Zute, JackOfBladesX, darksky01, Have Socks. Will Travel, Anime-StarWars-fan-zach, Juliafied, Tirion, Nightbrainzz, Psyche Sinclair, Patchworker, Jenna53, anon, Costin, EpitomyofShyness, Shakespira, Josie Lange, Nemrut, Yamilian, and Tsu Doh Nimh.
Thinking more about the golem controversy, I recently did a dwarf noble playthrough in which the Warden chose Harrowmont and supported Branka. The outcome, long-term, is pretty horrible. Yes, the DN gets to be a paragon, but Harrowmont follows the most traditional and isolationist policiies: crushing the casteless, cutting Orzammar off from most contact with the surface; reinforcing the privileges of the upper castes. As for Branka, when Harrowmont refuses to give her more dwarves to make golems, she starts raiding the surface, abducting humans and elves to create yet more golems. Hideous outcome, and it does not bode well for the long term health and survival of the dwarven people.
That said, that outcome is not easily predicted, especially by someone personally concerned with dwarven survival, which is why I believe that Bronwyn and Astrid, two intelligent warrior-aristocrats, would see the question very differently.