This part was going to be a small blip at the beginning of the chapter. However, it seemed to have a life all its own. So I went with it. I dedicate this one to my 18 year old son for his sick suggestions =).

Thank you to my small intimate fan-base. You are an inspiration to my trying times. You are very much respected and appreciated. Thank you for your words of encouragement and inspiration. God Bless, Galesong1234

Update: A special thanks go out to my editor, Enaid Aderyn, for her humorous corrections. =)

Chapter 15

The Bloody Business of Vengeance

(Chandra)

"Behind you," Zev screamed.

I looked over my shoulder, catching a clear glimpse of what could have been my end. An agile side step liberated me from a mortal blow from behind. The sword swooshed past me, raising the hairs on my neck.

Too late and too many, the crow assassins were circling us with lethal dexterity. I stamped my foot and clapped my hands overhead, much as an unruly child would. The ground thundered and boomed beneath us, toppling my enemies and me in the process.

I struggled to regain my footing when a crow, with a jagged scar over a missing eye, lunged for me. I rolled to the left and covered my face with my arms. Dirt and pebbles sprayed across me as the double-sided battle-ax buried itself in the ground. My assailant hoisted his blood-crusted ax back for another attempt. I gathered the earth around me into a magical sphere and released my fury. He flew back into his comrades knocking them back to ground.

Their numbers were dwindling, but so was my mana. No time to think and no time scream, I writhed under another onslaught of daggers and swords. I crossed my twin blades in front of me, hoping to block some of the damage. I made a furtive glance for Zev.

Zev was ducking and weaving, slicing fearlessly through a handful of crows. We had been ambushed in a back alley by former friends of Zev, the crows. There were too many for us and they were coming hard and fast.

These brutish executioners regained their ground, sending an onslaught of sword and ax blows my way. I quickly eluded and parried the attacks, dodging left and right. My diminishing stamina held no success in this apparent struggle, only the unceasing volley of attacks.

A much-needed mishap embroiled my attention. This would have escaped any novice swordsman, but I had caught a fault in their battle style. First, three sword carrying killers would attack, then a mighty slash from an ax, followed by two other swordsmen. If there were any hope to when this battle, I would have to take out their heavy hitter.

The first volley of attacks came, as if in slow motion. I parried two of the hellions and swiftly struck the last with a lightning bolt, sending him meters away. The goliath was as big as a bear. This brute of a man sliced vertically in my direction. I shifted my position, the ax beat heavily into the ground. Quickly stomping my foot onto the ax, I ripped through the air with my twin blades to meet my assailer's neck. His head gyrated into the air while his body felled like a towering oak. The other two swordsmen rushed me, swinging violently in every direction. The butt of one of my blades met harshly with one's face, the other blade ripping through the sword wielder's chest.

Blood and sweat mingled together to form pink tears. They ran down my face and blurred my vision. The sun was high and the air reeked of death. I inhaled deeply, each breath burned my chest. My brief hiatus was cut short by a golden haired elf. She vaulted over the dead, slicing through the air and into my flesh. A stinging sensation ripped through my arm causing me to drop one of my blades. The elf back flipped and I managed to catch her midair with a blow to the neck, impaling her into the ground.

I swallowed hard to catch my breath and clear the vertigo. My left arm was useless as blood poured from the slash. I placed my foot on the body for leverage and wrestled my blade free. In the momentum I twisted and stumbled into a sword. Shock and dismay were evident on my face as I stared down at the long slender blade embedded in my abdomen.

In a fog of pain and exhaustion, I lifted my head to stare at my impaler, "And here is the mighty grey warden at long last," his mouth twisted in a feral snarl, "The crows send their greetings, once again." He wrenched his blade free.

I clutched my gut and staggered back, "Something is vitally wrong," my mind vaguely registered, "Zev must not have seen."

"So they sent you, Taliensen?" Zev spat from behind, "Or did you volunteer for the job?" He was the last crow standing.

"I volunteered, of course. When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see for myself," Taliensen's words oozed with nauseating honesty.

"Is that so?" Zev's reply was cold and calculating, "Well here I am, in the flesh."

"You can return with me, Zevran. I know why you did this, and I don't blame you," Taliensen's eyes landed on me and he smiled wickedly, "It's not too late. Comeback and we'll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake."

I eyed both crows warily, "Of course I'd need to be dead, first."

"And I'm not about to let that happen," Zev slid his blade into his friend's chest.

Taliensen slumped over, his last breath a gasp.

(Alistair)

"I should have gone with her!" I slammed my fist onto my uncle's large mahogany desk.

"Not if you are to be king," My uncle blotted at the ink I had spilt, "We cannot afford for your hands to be soiled."

"So we let her take the fall?" I turned and paced, "She's not a pawn," I seethed.

"No, she's a distraction," I didn't like the tone my uncle had taken, "She knows what she has to do and so do you."

"First and foremost I am a grey warden," I insisted.

"For the time being I will give you that," my uncle deferred, "I am not so old that I don't understand your infatuation with the girl. After all, she is quite lovely."

I stopped short of the desk and leaned forward, "What are you saying, Uncle?"

"How do I put it delicately…she is not your equal. You will need to find a suitable wife worthy to bear you heirs."

My fingers clenched the sides of the desk until my knuckles turned white, "Worthy of a bastard?" I hissed between clenched teeth, "And for the record, uncle…Chandra is not some infatuation."

"I understand," Eamon briefly smiled, "Completely."

"Good," I still wasn't satisfied, "We will discuss this later."

(Chandra)

"Whew," I breathed, "For a moment there…you had me wondering." My vision blurred and I dropped to my knees.

Zevran rushed to my side, "Let's just say I like to keep you on your toes," concern knitted his brow, "Or are you going to ignore my advice?"

"It's nothing, really," I pushed his hands away, "It's just a scratch."

"For such a beautiful grey warden," he reached for a scrap of material from one of the dead, "You are a terrible liar, no?"

"I'm sorry, Zev," He ignored my hand and tried to staunch the blood flow, "About…Alistair."

"Ahhh, don't be, my sweet lady. I never asked you for anything, did I?" I detected the hint of sadness in his voice, "This isn't working," he frowned.

I bit back the pain and laughed, "You just want to get my clothes off," he helped me with my chest piece, "I just need my pack."

Zev grabbed it from my hands and reached in for some bandages. He handed me the vial of blue liquid then turned to examine my wound, "Alistair is going to have my head," he gulped, "We should turn back."

I tilted back my head and swallowed the wretched blue lyrium. I closed my eyes tightly and chanted, "See? Not so bad." I removed my blood soaked hand and showed him the red angry line across my abdomen.

"That's a nice parlor trick," he seemed satisfied and helped me with my amor, "Think you can teach me that?"

"Afraid not," I accepted his hand up, "It's a mage thing." I didn't have the heart to tell him that my left arm was still numb, "Shall we?"

"I'm with you until the end…provided you do not tire of me first. Or I die. Or you die. Or…."

(Alistair)

"What's wrong, Leli?" I tucked my mother's amulet back under my padded shirt beneath my armor.

She wrung her hands fretfully, "I received word from some of our informants."

"And…," I walked over to her, "What did they find out?"

"Alistair," she forestalled, "They were attacked by Crow assassins."

I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook, "Is she…," I couldn't say the words, "Is she alive?"

"Yes!" she was quick to reply, "But not without damage."

"Damage?" I held my breath and waited.

"They were hit hard by at least a dozen," she bit at her bottom lip in distress, "There was evidence that they sustained some injuries."

"Where are they?" I rushed to the door barely able to speak.

"They were last seen entering Rendan Howe's estate."

I sighed heavily, a deep sinking feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. I walked over to the table and poured me a draft of something strong, "Then all we can do…is wait."