Chapter 47: Scattered Pieces
Bruna
When the lost pieces are miraculously discovered, it is not always joyous.
It had been late when Morrigan stormed into the encampment, west of Cloughbark, her presence almost crackling with electricity as she berated the scouts who had been tasked to discover the Templar's movments. One man was carrying a small, pale figure that I did not immediately recognize. I saw first the cloak and my heart leapt into my throat. It was made of light gray woolen fabric, but the stitching was distinctive. It was familiar because I had woven the fabric and stitched it with a very strong thread. It was the cloak I had made for Mae, thin in spots after years of wear, but still recognizable.
Rushing forward to peer at the face concealed by the hood, I did not realize I was holding my breath until I looked fully at the countenance. Though it was not Mae, the face was still familiar and I rasped, "Letha?"
She was unconscious, cold and pale, except for around her neck. There I noticed angry red ligatures pressed deep into her skin, implying the use of a rope: someone had tried to hang her. The comprehension made me ill.
I claimed her from the scouts arms, her birdlike body feeling impossibly light in such old arms as mine. Against my chest I could just barely discern shallow breaths moving her form as I rushed her into my own tent. Morrigan followed me and reaffirmed, "She lives, though it was not due to those clumsy louts I was forced to scout with. We found her strung high up in a tree and lowered her down when I realized she had not succumbed to her treatment. She was conscious until shortly after I had examined her on the ground. We probably discovered her just in time. I did what I could, but I am no healer."
Pressing a pair of fingers to the side of her throat, a fluttering beat answered. She was weak, but, except for the obvious near strangulation, I could discern no further injuries. I began to gently rub her hands, hoping to encourage the warmth back into them. Morrigan, seeing my ministrations, commanded a man to boil some water and mimicked my actions with Letha's feet. If we could restore some of the circulation to her limbs, pinken her pale skin, it might help to stabilize her. After a moment she gasped, as if the action caused her some pain and it reassured me that she had not gone completely numb.
When she seemed less pallid, Morrigan left us to see to the water. We had taken to boiling and straining our water in the hopes of lessening the amount of lyrium within, but there was no way to completely purify it. Since I had been apart from her for such a space of time, I could not be sure if her body had been further corrupted by the lyrium inherent in the Cauldron's water sources. To expose her further could cause her to be trapped in sleep like many of the Avvars I had already been tending. Further lyrium could permanently unhinge her mind, but she could also not live without water.
Morrigan returned with a warm cup of water and I quickly steeped some tea in it, hoping the herbs in the tea might further counter the effects of the trace lyrium in the liquid. Gently lifting her up, Morrigan assisted in steadying her so that I could bring the cup to her lips and enable her to drink. Some of the liquid dribbled out on either side of her mouth and I gently rubbed a spot behind her jaw, encouraging her to finally swallow, taking in the warming fluid.
Letha reminded me of a rag doll bereft of saw dust, but slowly she began to respond to Morrigan and my ministrations, through mewling sounds and twitches of action, but she remained unconscious. Her state was particularly distressing for she had already been weakened by her poisoning. The hanging should have killed her, and yet she survived. What had sustained her was mysterious.
When her breathing became deeper, as that which accompanies normal sleep, I felt myself relax. She was alive and resting comfortably. There was nothing left for me to do, but let her sleep and hope she would awaken with time. Drawing the cloak up to her chin like a blanket, I ran a gentle hand over her thin blond hair before crawling out of the tent.
"Observing your care for the woman, I presume that you know her," Morrigan baited, angling for information to sate her curiosity.
"Ser Grey and I had come across her in the woods a few days before you encountered us at the abandoned village. At the time she wore tattered Chantry robes, which led us to believe that she was one of the sisters that had initially refused to leave the Cloughbark Chantry. She was suffering severe lyrium poisoning, worse than that of the Avvar villagers that still sleep," I shook my head, "She had been beaten. It is my assumption that she had been in the Templars' custody but had managed to escape."
"Then she was probably in the mine. If what you say is true, then perhaps there is more to the lyrium taint in the water. I could not be sure what the Templars were mining, thinking that the lyrium may have been a symptom of the problem. Mayhap the lyrium is the cause…" Morrigan was speaking, putting the pieces together in her mind.
"The Templars are mining lyrium, then," I stated, the certainty of it settling on my shoulders, making my neck tight.
Morrigan nodded, "Only dwarves know how to process it and have the resistance to be able to manage lyrium in its raw form. If the Templars are mining it and do not have dwarven workers, it seems most likely that they are forcing their captives to mine it for them. The people mining are exposed and becoming poisoned. If they are dumping their waste into any water sources within the mine, it may be seeping into the underground channels feeding the water that the Cauldron drinks. They do not realize that they are not just poisoning their laborers; they are poisoning everyone and everything. How did you become separated from our wayward sister and why did you not mention her before when you spoke of your missing knight?"
"It did not seem to relate prior to this moment. She had become frightened by a dream and had run into the woods. The other knight had gone to retrieve her, but they had not returned by the next day when you had found us." I explained, though I knew it was not the entire truth. I had suspected much of what Morrigan had spoken, but had been reluctant to share any information when I was so uncertain of her motives.
"That is not your entire tale, I wager," Morrigan astutely observed, "but keep your little secrets if it comforts you. Our little bird might be able to help us far more than I had anticipated when I found her."
My eyebrow skewed warily before prompting, "Meaning?"
"If it is as I believe, then she has been inside the mines. If she escaped, I doubt she escaped through the main entrance of the Heidrunscap fortress. It is reasonable to assume that she found her way out of a tunnel that led to the surface, the egress being near to where you discovered her. With a small party of men, we could infiltrate the fortress from such an entrance, sabotage the defenses and enable the rest of our Avvar warriors to have an advantage when performing a frontal attack," Morrigan smirked, "All we must do is locate the tunnel entrance."
"How would we do that?" I inquired, stepping to place myself between her and the flap of the tent, not trusting the eager glimmer in her eyes.
"She will lead us!" Morrigan seemed triumphant in her deduction, making as if she would brush past me and re-enter the tent.
Grabbing her wrist as she reached for the flap, I hauled her upright. The glare in my eyes gave her pause as I avowed, "You will not disturb her, regardless of your plans. She is ill and too weak to be moved anywhere in safety."
"We need her!" Morrigan spat, regaining some of her fire, returning my glare.
"Is it truly we who need her, or is it only you that need her?" I kept my voice steady though my eyes further narrowed.
She drew in a long breath and I braced myself for the tale she intended to spin, "I am here to assist my Avvar brethren in their plight."
My laugher barked harshly, "I am too old to be fooled by your ilk, Mage. I was trained by a mage far wiser and more powerful than you. Her instruction was not wasted on me."
"You think you know so much," the words were acrimonious and accusing.
"I do not know much, but I know enough," I stood my ground, "and if you want any help from me you will be truthful with me. What are you hoping to find in those tunnels?"
She seemed to lose some of her security in that moment, her shoulders sinking slightly while she worried her bottom lip a moment. Suddenly she was uncertain, but the moment was fleeting. She put on a brave face again and stated haughtily, "There is a relic of immense power in those caves. I require its aid."
"How is it to aid you?" I probed, slightly worried at the thought of Morrigan possessing anything of power.
"Does it matter?" she countered.
"Yes, it matters!" I wanted to shout into her face, erase the haughty smugness that she used as a mask by laying before her the stark reality of interfering with artifacts. My people have told many stories of fools stumbling across an object that appeared beneficial only to have it turn on them. It is the intemperate wish. It is the gift wrapped folly. It is the dangerous bid for safety that caused more harm than protection.
However, this was the most honesty that I had been able to glean regarding Morrigan's motives and I worried that if I pushed too far, she would bolt and we would lose her. She was like a young child, feigning experience, when in actuality she knew very little. It was this that I distrusted. A person trying to shelter in a cave might find a bear rather than safety. She was rushing headlong to find something to save herself and that could potentially hurt both her and the rest of us if she tried to wield something she did not understand. Her pride and inability to ask for help could doom all in the Cauldron, if allowed an edge.
"Child…" I started in measured tones, only to be interrupted.
"Child I am not!" she fumed suddenly, her ire burning like a sudden strike of lightning.
I closed my eyes and took a breath, releasing her wrist and putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. My gesture caused her to step back, just beyond reach, but close enough that we could still look at each other. I tried to continue, "Unless you learn to trust someone, you will fall alone. I am more than willing to help you, but I can do nothing if you do not learn to confide in me. If you are in some danger it would be better to speak of it to a friend. I wish you no harm, but I will not allow you to potentially harm others in your blind panic."
"I do not panic. I have faced down hordes of darkspawn. I have helped to fell the archdemon, Urthemiel. I was schooled by Flemeth in how to wield power…" and that was the moment when I realized the danger that she was in. Conscious of how much she had inadvertently revealed, she suddenly pressed her lips together, turned on her heel and walked into the woods.
The Avvars knew of Flemeth. She had haunted the Chasind for ages and we had ears; we knew of her power and her penchants. I had no doubt that Morrigan spoke true in her unguarded passion, but I wondered exactly how much Flemeth had instilled in the girl. If the girl was running from Flemeth, I doubted there was anywhere she could go to aptly escape from the woman, if she were truly a woman. Knowing this, I also knew how deeply Morrigan's fear probably ran. For the Avvar she was a legend, though a potent one; for Morrigan, familiarity had the potential to breed true terror. She would know first hand what the old woman of the Wilds was capable of.
A deep sense of pity swelled in me for the wayward mage girl, for she was a girl regardless of what she claimed. More than likely Flemeth raised her to be such, only knowing a few scattered pieces of the puzzling plot. It was most likely the not knowing with certainty that plagued Morrigan.
She would return, knowing the depth of her situation I could reassure myself of that with certainty. I decided to allow her to regain her composure rather than run after her, hoping that with time she might seek me out.
At that moment, I determined that I must go to Ser Grey, inform him of Letha. It was my hope to ease how distraught he had become over her whereabouts. This disquiet drove him to relentless lengths to train the Avvar warriors that had been brought to him. He pushed them, trying to teach them perfection of form and his example encouraged a fierceness in the men that eclipsed any fear in the inevitable onslaught that would come when we challenged the Templars.
While I had been tending to Letha and conversing with Morrigan, the scouts had already reported to him. He had dismissed the drilling for the day, as dusk was beginning to coalesce in the sky and one could not train when one could not see. He sat brooding by the fire at the center of our camp when I approached and claimed my usual seat beside him.
"The scouts spoke to you," I observed.
"Yes," he said, looking at the flames instead of at me.
"Did they bring word of the Templar fortress?" I inquired, since I had not the opportunity to gain that information from Morrigan.
"Yes," he looked weary as he closed his eyes and cocked his head to one side to stretch the muscles in his neck. The tension was etched in every line on his face.
"And…?" I inquired, wanting him to continue.
"It has at least twenty armed Templars on the walls. It was unclear about the forces beyond them. The walls themselves are logs driven into the ground, which means they can burn. It offers more of an advantage than if they were stone. There are tents within the walls, they assumed they were either for the Templars or the workers. Those too can burn if flaming arrows breech the walls. It is the mine beyond that is the rub. If the forces fall back to that mine, it would be far more defensible position. We do not have the men for a drawn out siege." He laid out his thoughts before me as a scroll.
"Did they mention anything else?" I inquired, wondering if they had mentioned finding Letha, though they could not know who she was.
He nodded, "They said they found signs of darkspawn. Those creatures were roaming Amaranthine during the spring. They attacked the city and the city itself had to be burned to the ground to stem the taint. They had dispersed, but if they are still above ground here, it could present complications to our plans. If they were to suddenly attack us, it could cripple us even before we meet the Templars."
I understood his worry. We had very little contact with the darkspawn during the Blight, but we had heard of Lothering and the destruction they wrought. The taint was worse than the lyrium saturation these people were currently facing. Combined, the Cauldron could soon become unlivable.
"They also found a woman," I offered, considering carefully how to inform him that would cause him the least amount of distress.
"Yes," Grey acquiesced, "they found a woman hung in a tree. They said she was barely alive. It is not unusual for darkspawn to string up someone." His words belied impatience. He did not wish to dwell on thoughts that brought forth images of the darkspawn, I wondered what he had seen during the Blight, but it was not important at that moment.
"I do not believe it was darkspawn," I stated; after a steadying breath and I added, "It was Letha."
For so weary a man, he jumped to his feet and turned eyes to look on me, to measure the truth of my words. He gasped, afraid of the answer, "Is she…?"
"She lives and is resting comfortably in my tent," I reassured him, taking his hand in mine and guiding him back to his seat next to me, "she is very weak, but hopefully she will recover in time."
For a moment, he covered his face in his hands, breathing heavily, trying to regain control of the emotions that had run away from him. When he was reasonably satisfied that he could speak again, he added, "They mentioned seeing no sign of anyone else near that tree. If the king…if Sellose had been there, he would not have permitted any to touch her. He would never have allowed harm to come to her. If she had been in that tree…"
"There is more to it," I interrupted, feeling some of the dread return that I first felt on seeing them carry Letha into camp, "she was wearing Mae's cloak."
It was Grey's turn to take my hand, "Are you sure it was Svenya's cloak?"
I smiled ruefully, "I spun the wool, wove the cloth, and sewed it together with my own hands. I am as certain of it as I would be if I had seen her face. She gave Letha that cloak. If she made it to see her mother, it might be that they came into contact with each other in the castle at Herfirien. The mercenary had implied that they had caught Letha and Sellose together. The castle would have been the closest destination rather than going straight to Heidrunscap."
"Or they are dead…" Grey rasped, trying to maintain his madly slipping control.
"No," I stated, feeling my own certainty envelope me, "they are alive. I would feel if it were otherwise."
Grey shook his head, "I wish I could believe such a reassurance."
I placed a gentle hand on his cheek, causing him to turn his head to face me, "If you have not faith in me, have faith in the man that you know the king to be. It is the one reassurance we have left. Mae and his majesty are strong and not likely to fall without a fight. You are right to surmise that they would not willingly allow harm to come to Letha, but it does not necessarily guarantee the worst. If nothing, Letha is a sign of hope."
"Then perhaps they were brought to Heidrunscap," he allowed, "but how can we fight through stone to get to them? A siege on a castle is one thing; a siege on a mine is far more daunting. A head on assault is suicide."
"Perhaps there is another option…" I offered, thinking back to the conversation I had with Morrigan. I related to him what she had deduced and he grudgingly allowed me to pull him from his despair.
"If Letha is unconscious," he countered, "then how could she help us find the tunnel. Even if we were to help her regain consciousness, she was near mad with the lyrium poisoning when we discovered her. She probably would have no recollection and, as it is, she can barely remember her own name."
"There are other ways," I reassured him, taking his hand again and squeezing it, hoping it would bolster him, "all that is necessary is that we retrace our steps. I will go with a select few men, Morrigan and Letha when we are reassured she can travel. You will continue on to Heidrunscap. At midday on the next week's wane, you will attack the defenses at Heidrunscap. We will make sure it will fall. If not, we will fall with you."
"It would be risky for you…" Grey argued, his concern wringing something in me and I smiled.
"Do not worry, Ser Lion. I am an old bird, but if necessary I can become a badger. I will not fail you. You have my word." I tried to be playful, but we both knew the gravity of what I was offering.
Without further conversation, he lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm before standing and walking into the shadows. He too, like Morrigan, needed to think over the danger we were steeped in and it did not rest lightly with him. He could not do so before my eyes, regardless of the trust that had grown.
We had become a mutual anchor for one another, and I realized how loathe I was to leave him, but I knew that if we did not take this chance we would not succeed. It did not make the impending separation easier to withstand. He was a good man. He would do the right thing in the end, regardless of his reluctance. He would send me away and remain stoic throughout, but I knew that he would feel that distance acutely, as would I.
How queer to find this so late in life. It should have been comforting, but it gave us so much more to lose.
I rubbed away a hasty tear, placing my hand against my cheek, fooling myself that I could still feel his warmth.
I returned to my tent to wait for both Letha to wake and Morrigan to return so that I could begin preparations. Morrigan would be gratified that our intentions still walked in the same direction and I was relieved that I could maintain my watch on her. Perhaps I would discover the mysterious object and either help her to obtain it or shield her from some unforeseen malevolence.