Chapter 45: The Aviary

Svenya / Maerwynn Crewe

Even before my eyes opened, I could feel the throbbing lump on the back of my head swelling and I could not think beyond that because my ears were ringing. When I finally ventured to open my eyes the light stung and made them water so all my vision was bleary. I closed my eyes tight again and groaned, my hands groping about at my sides to discern what I was lying on and felt scratchy woolen blankets stretched across a narrow bed.

Before I could build up my courage to attempt squinting around the room, a pair of soft, gentle hands slowly sat me up and leaned me forward, holding me still against a shoulder as a stranger sat beside me on the bed. Some sort of unguent was applied and it was made of familiar smelling herbs that soothed me. The person then leaned me back and I could feel the edge of a goblet pressed to my lips, wetting them slightly with cool water, but was unable to swallow. The water was retched up, dribbling down my chin and spilling onto my clothes. Sitting up was making me too dizzy.

I was lowered to my back again and the unknown caretaker patted my hand reassuringly and stood up, shuffling around where I lay with slightly dragging steps. There were the sounds of bustling, water being poured, rags being wrung, fabric being folded and finally the scraping of wood as a chair was dragged across the floor.

"Thank you," I whispered hoarsely, hoping the words conveyed the depth of gratitude I felt for the person who was seeing to my wellbeing.

I heard a reassuring creak, as someone sat heavily in a chair next to me, but any time I tried to open my eyes to look at them, I could not focus. The dim light of a candle did nothing to help me, and even that small amount caused my head to ache if my eyes dared open. My attempts at movement were met with a small sigh, and the person took my hand, squeezing it with a mild pressure, causing me to still.

One last time I forced my eyes open, and through the tears I could barely make out the outline of a woman's face, haloed in the pale glare of the candle to my weary eyes, obscuring any distinct characteristics. The best I could discern before closing my eyes was that her hair was brown and it framed a round face.

I was unable to remain awake amid the pain in my head and the stinging of my eyes. Releasing my consciousness, I sank again into a murky, dreamless sleep.

The length of my slumber was interminable. At times I was vaguely aware of being lifted or turned. Someone hovered close at hand, with a sound akin to the rustling of feathers or the beating of wings, but I could not bring myself to rouse completely.

When I finally woke, there was sunlight streaming through a window, its shutters were open wide. A teasing breeze danced along my cheeks and I suspect that is what drew me back to consciousness. Breathing deeply, I filled my lungs and the chill stung slightly, but it also helped to clear some of the sleepy haze that hung on me like a mantle.

Since my head appeared to have lessened in its throbbing, I struggled to sit up. The protest of the creaking bed mimicked the protests of my achy muscles. The sounds brought my caretaker to my side, helping to lever me up with the strength of her arm. When I was steady she drew back and I was able to fully examine her for the first time with clear vision.

As I had noticed before, she had a round face, but it was perched atop a block of a body. While I was accustomed to Bruna who was soft, this woman was solid, muscled like a plow horse used hard work. Her clothes were a dark gray mottled with stains. It may have once been black, but had faded with washing and wear. Her dark eyes peaked out as glittering pebbles regarding me like a magpie considering a shiny object, withholding judgment of worth until I proved myself.

"Hello," I smiled, though unnerved by her silent scrutiny, "you have been taking care of me?"

The woman nodded, but said nothing.

"How long have I been asleep?" I questioned, trying to draw her out.

She held up two fingers, the expression on her face did not alter.

"Two? You mean two days?"

Again she nodded, withdrawing her fingers from the air and tucking her hand beneath her other arm. The placement of her limbs crossed over her chest, as if shielding her heart. The stance betrayed nothing of who she was or her emotions.

I planned to question her further and discover the specifics of my situation when the distinct scraping click of a key turning in a rusty lock drew my attention to the door. There was only one for the room, and it was at this point that I realized that the room was almost completely round with the exception of the one wall that the door was on. The door itself was arched and made of heavy oak. After the click of the key there was the sound of a heavy bar being lifted and a bolt being withdrawn. The door swung out, allowing entrance to three individuals: a woman carrying a heavily lade food tray, my yellow eyed brother and the familiar figure of Arl Boese.

It had been years since I had last seen his lordship. His large frame had gained girth and his shoulders stooped slightly. The hair that had once been dark curls was nearly all gray. However, the hooked nose and green eyes were the same as they had been when I was fourteen, but the eyes had become squintier. His jaw was still square and set forward in an exaggerated under bite. He resembled a much older version of his family crest: a boar that had aged after many years of evading hunters, still strong, but his piggy eyes had begun to fail to the point where he no longer recognized he was in the presence of predators.

"Ah, Arl Boese, it appears that my sister has awoken," my brother oozed, toadying to disguise his true nature from the arl, "Maerwynn, per chance you recall the Arl. He has provided these lavish accommodations and servants to wait upon your needs. You had been injured in that darkspawn attack and were unconscious when you arrived. Perhaps your memory has been affected?"

"I am still of sound mind, Ronan. There were darkspawn, but they did not give me the lump on the back of my head," I stated, eyes narrowed.

Arl Boese offered airily, "Then you must have fallen and struck your head during the battle. You are fortunate that you were not killed considering a number of Ser Manning's Templars died in the attack."

Ronan wore a smile, but the eyes gave me a pointed look. The threat was behind the smile and I chose silence rather than disclose my brother's treachery. Boese was no friend and it would be foolish to offer him the truth when he was equally abhorrent as my brother. My chances stood better if I bided my time for a more fortuitous moment.

"These women," Arl Boese nodded to the two women in turn, "have worked for my house for many years. Derora will be preparing and bringing your meals. Kanara will be staying with you, keeping you company."

The woman who was my caretaker, Kanara, seemed to cringe when Boese spoke her name. She was a strong woman and imposing, but next to Boese she was small. I had to fight the urge to go and stand before her, standing between her and the arl, but I refrained, concerned that such an action would just draw more attention to her.

I had been so preoccupied with Kanara that I had missed my brother's sycophantic gabbling, until he added, "Just think, dear sister, this woman will be an apt companion for you. She will never interrupt you and silently listen to your ceaseless singing and jesting without complaint."

"I beg your pardon?" I stated as a knot formed in the pit of my stomach.

Ronan sighed, as if he were made to endure a precocious child, "I see your injuries still have addled your senses. As I was saying, the woman is mute. She can still hear, but she cannot speak."

Gritting my teeth, I held back a growl at my brother's insensitivity. He had probably arranged this, fearing I would tell this woman of his treachery, hoping to get word out.

"I hope you will enjoy the view, Lady," Arl Boese added, each syllable sounding slimy and deferential, "this tower once housed my Aviary. I had become bored with it a few years ago and decided to convert it into guest quarters. On a clear day you can see to the Waking Sea."

"I shudder to think what happened to your birds. You probably wrung each of their little necks personally since you would never just let them go," I inwardly seethed, though the latter part of his comments piqued my interest, "I had not realized that Swidden was so close to the Waking Sea."

"Yes, Lady, just beyond the Northern Range bordering the Cauldron I discovered a narrow pass that can access the sea. Ships could take you to Kirkwall or Orlais from there." He smiled, and his crooked teeth were like yellowed tusks.

Tamping down my feelings of revulsion, I made my face a mask of smiling sweetness, "Have you sailed the Waking Sea?"

Apparently my guise appealed to him, and he grinned wider, "No, but I intend to soon. I long to sail on a strong vessel with a fine wind! I could conquer…"

Something in his speech disturbed Ronan, for he adeptly cut in, narrowly avoiding interrupting Arl Boese's enthusiasm, "My lordship, we still have other matters to discuss regarding your future plans and my sister should not over exert herself so soon after being injured. Good day, my dear," Ronan added this dismissively, ushering Boese towards the door.

The older man seemed unaware that he was being manipulated. He clapped my brother affectionately on the shoulder and began to speak of a new horse in his stable that he was hoping to break. If it went well he intended to ride the steed during hunting. If it did not go well, he would have animal gelded and turn it over to a farmer for a plough horse, "Would you be interested to see the animal. It has such spirit, such fire. It will be a source of great amusement."

"Quite," agreed my brother, casting a careless glance over his shoulder to catch my eye, "it is entertaining to watch a dumb animal struggle in futility against a superior force. Eventually they learn, though… Good day, dear sister. We shall visit again soon."

I stood in the center of the room, listened as they left. The bolt was rammed home with a sickening thud, followed by the bar dropping with a bang. The rusty key squeaked in the lock as it turned and I was secure in my cage.

Before the footsteps began to recede, I heard the Arl offhandedly comment, "Even scarred, your sister is quite impressive. Had I not other commitments at present, I might be tempted to steal her away from Ser Manning. Such eyes, such lips…"

"Yes," allowed my brother, his voice becoming softer with distance, "but Manning has his own desires regarding my sister. You would not wish to offend to loyal and able an ally."

"True, true…" agreed Arl Boese before the rest of their conversation was lost to me.

I released my feigned smile when they were safely gone. My face hurt, the muscles in my cheeks had been tighter than lute strings. I commenced pacing, fuming, "Dumb animal, indeed. You will find me unwilling to be schooled by you or anyone. Damn you, you slimy toad! May the Fade take you! May you be beset by demons! May you be thrown into the deepest dungeon of the Black City! May the Maker himself forsake me if I do not do all in my power to thwart you myself!"

I was jerked away from my cursing by the sound of a slight gasp at my outburst. I turned to see the two serving women regarding me with wide, wary eyes. The two women were near the bed. Kanara had collapsed into a chair and was perceptibly trembling, as if her long silence had built to the point of bursting. The other woman, Derora, was patting her on the shoulder in a comforting gesture. In my ire I had completely forgotten that I was not alone in this cage and I felt ashamed by my lack of control.

Softening, I approached them calmly, "I apologize for my outburst. I did not intend to frighten you."

"No, Lady," Derora muttered, "it is not you. Kana is gravely frightened of Boese. Serving you has enabled her to escape being in his direct presence. It was unexpected that he would come here at all, but he capriciously insisted on being presented to you, even though Arlson Ronan insisted you were still too weak from your injuries."

I barely avoided snorting at the thought of my brother being concerned, but the woman continued, "I cannot remain long, they will return to collect me and escort me back to the kitchens. They do not trust me to lock the door."

"Has it always been thus, or is this just for my benefit?" I asked.

"Boese has had guards closely overseeing the servants for quite some time. He does not trust any of us. Perhaps he fears we will turn on him after having been abused for so long." She shrugged, "This Aviary was long ago cleared when its caretaker supposedly displeased him. He had the poor woman kill all the birds and then bake them into pies. He ate the pies for a number of weeks and forced her to sit in his presence every night and witness him dining on the meal she had made. It was too cruel…"

The stifled, soundless sob interrupted what Derora was relating, and I dropped to my knees before Kana to see if she was in pain. She had a hand clamped over her mouth and her eyes squinted shut over flushed, flooding cheeks. The woman was shuddering with the violence of her emotions, so much so that I feared it would make her physically ill. I cast a worried look to Derora who had commenced rubbing her shoulders and cooing over the woman. I followed suit and held Kana's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Eventually the torrents subsided into little puffing gasps and Kana sat up straighter, rubbing her watery eyes with clenched fists.

"I am sorry, Kana," Derora apologized quietly, "I should not have spoken of it knowing how greatly it distresses you."

Kana's only reply was to shake her head, returning to her feet abruptly, bustling about the room again. She busied herself with collecting and arranging dishes on the tray for Derora to take away with her. Derora waited on me, serving me a bowl of soup.

Cautious not to further upset Kana, I whispered between sips, "Am I correct in surmising that the woman was Kanara?"

"Yes. It nearly broke her. She had been mute since birth and always loved the sound of bird song. He was completely unreasonable over an imagined slight and would not be dissuaded. He has always been thus: smiling one moment and enraged another."

"My father is almost preferable. He may be a monster, but at least he never deviates."

She nodded, "It is always easier to withstand the demon you know, but I am familiar with your father as well." She did not elaborate beyond that, but her mouth was a thin, grim line.

After a moment she stated, "I confess to being curious about something: the Aviary has always had one key. On your arrival they added the bar and bolt per your brother's request…"

"He may have wanted some reassurance that I could not escape, even if I should attempt to pick the lock." I replied wryly.

"Can you pick locks?" she asked incredulously.

I smiled demurely, "I may wear the plumes of a lady, but I have long since left that life behind. When one must eat, one does what is necessary…"

She looked at me a moment, her mouth opening and closing as if not sure what to say to my disclosure. Blinking, she ventured, "However did you get snared again into such intrigues?"

"My heart drew me when my head would have had me fly in a direction far opposite." I did not wish to unburden myself further to this stranger. She seemed sincere, but who could tell what she would repeat if coerced, so I did not speak further.

For a moment she seemed as if she might speak further, but a banging on the door and the sound of a key turning signaled Derora's required departure. She gathered the dishes and hurried out the door to escape my cage. I could not fault her eagerness.

I wandered to the window as the day began to wane. The sky began to turn gold before allying into rose and amethyst hues. Before the light faded, I squinted to the north and could barely discern the glittering blue of a distant sea beyond the mountain sentries. Musing, I considered that travelling South to escape back to Herfirien might be fool hardy and the Frostback Pass could well be impassable with the onset of Winter…but the sea was not unreachable.

My head had begun to ache, so I returned to the small bed and sat down, noticing a nearby pallet that Kanara slept upon. The woman was sitting on a stool in the corner, fiddling with a loop of string. Her shoulders stooped slightly and some of her dark hair came loose from her plait, falling across her brow and casting a dark shadow across her eyes. She seemed so distant and isolated that I longed to close the gap between us, but how does one reach out to a stranger?

"Kanara," I called to her, causing her to lift her face to meet my eyes, "Derora mentioned that you enjoy music. Would it please you if I sang?"

She studied me a moment with an edge of suspicion, but shrugged her shoulders, implying that she did not care before returning her attention to her string.

I began to sing a song that I had been taught by my late husband, Thomas. He had told me that the song had been created by rebels that had served Queen Moira in her various camps. Its sense of defiance fit my mood and encouraged me, but I could not maintain my voice for long. It irritated my already achy head and Kanara made no move in response to my singing.

Reclining back onto the bed, I resolved to myself, "You were not the only fox in our den, Ronan, and I have learned the nature of foxes from the oldest. I will be free yet, regardless of your plotting."