41: What the Eyes Can't See (Part XI)
"He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight."
― Sun Tzu
Rain.
"They weren't fucking around when they named this place 'the Storm Coast,'" Rocky grumbled.
The thin rain drizzled over them persistently, relentlessly.
Doesn't matter, Krem thought, it'll heat up soon enough. His eyes scanned the landscape unfolding before them as they reached the top of the hill.
Further ahead, Bull and the Inquisitor led their band towards a pre-determined meeting point established a couple miles away from the nearest camp.
On a mild drop a few steps away, their eyes caught the motion of the billowing surface of a dingy tarp.
Bull pointed and they marched forward.
"Our Qunari contact should be here to meet us," Krem overheard him say to her as they looked around, searching for evidence of his presence.
"He is!" a voice responded jovially.
A slender elf emerged to greet them, his armor glistening in the rain.
"Good to see you again, Hissrad," his expression softened as Bull's smile spread over his face.
"Gatt! Last I heard, you were still in Seheron!"
The elf smirked.
"They finally decided I'd calmed down enough to go back into the world."
"Boss," Bull turned to the Inquisitor proudly, "this is Gatt. We worked together in the Seheron."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Inquisitor. Hissrad's reports say you're doing good work."
She glanced at them both, perplexed.
"Iron Bull's name is 'Hissrad?'"
"Under the Qun, we use titles, not names," Gatt stated.
Viddathari, Krem realized. He always thought it amusing how much more Qunari their mannerisms were than Bull's. The elf had striking, transparent green eyes, he'd noticed. They were sharp and calculating.
Nowhere as light and bright as Almira's, though, he remarked to himself.
Hers were warm and alive with mischief. He pat his pocket, checking for his newest companion, the little wooden turtle she'd given him. He'd been so tempted to write to her from one of the camps, but he couldn't afford to have their position leaked, even if by accident.
"My title," Bull explained, "was Hissrad, because I was assigned to secret work. You can translate it as 'keeper of illusions' or—"
"Liar," the elf said, a bit more cuttingly than any of them would have expected. "It means liar."
"Well, you don't have to say it like that!" Bull smarted from the slight.
"I look forward to working together," the Inquisitor tactfully intervened.
"Hopefully this will help both our peoples, Tevinter is dangerous enough without the influence of this Venatori cult. If this new form of lyrium helps them seize power in Tevinter, the war with Qunandar could get worse," Gatt offered.
"With this stuff, Vints could make their slaves into an army of magical freaks," Bull stated. "We could lose Seheron and see a giant Tevinter army come marching back down here."
"The Ben-Hassrath agree," Gatt nodded. "That's why we're here. Our dreadnaught is safely hidden out of view and out of range of any Venatori mages running ashore. We'll need to eliminate the Venatori and signal the dreadnaught so it can come in and take out the smuggler ship," he informed them.
"What do you think, Bull?" the Inquisitor turned to him.
He exhaled, troubled.
"Don't know. I've never liked covering a dreadnaught run. Too many ways for crap to go wrong." Bull cast Gatt a resentful glance. It was the sort of operation that would have warranted more soldiers and more coverage. Krem could tell Bull was annoyed. "If our scouts underestimate enemy numbers, we're dead," he said pointedly. "If we can't lock down the Venatori mages, the ship is dead. It's risky," he concluded.
"Riskier than letting red lyrium into Minrathous?" Gatt asked provocatively.
Bull frowned.
"There might be Venatori mages on the ship as well," the Inquisitor pondered. "The dreadnaught can't handle them."
"It's unlikely there will be more than two or three mages on the ship. And they'll be dead by the third shot. On land, though, a half dozen Venatori attacking the dreadnaught from cover could do some serious damage."
The Inquisitor appeared to share Bull's reticence. Krem began sensing that both of them were beginning to regret the trust they had placed in the Qun agents to coordinate most of the operation.
"If it's dangerous for the dreadnaught to go close to shore, why not attack when the smugglers reach open water?" she wondered suspiciously.
"Any decent smuggling ship could outrun a dreadnaught on open water. We need to catch them close to shore!" Gatt insisted.
The Inquisitor seemed unconvinced.
"I could have crushed any Venatori resistance with the Inquisition's main forces," she argued. "Why not use them?"
Gatt appeared undaunted.
"Because then the Venatori would have seen you coming…and run. They'd schedule a new shipment for later and us spies might not know when or where. This is risky, yes—" he conceded, "but it is our best chance to destroy the shipping operation permanently."
The Inquisitor remained silent, her fist clenched by her side. Krem had fought alongside her enough to know she was irritated.
"Let's go hold up our end of this bargain, then," she stated finally.
"My agents suggested two possible locations the Venatori may be camped to guard the shore." He pointed behind him, to his left, over a craggy cliff. "There," he indicated. "And there," he directed their attention to his right, a hillside shrouded with towering trees. We need to split up to hit both at once," he explained.
Bull faced the Inquisitor. In the nearby distance, waiting also were Seeker Pentaghast, Varric, and Blackwall.
"I'll come with you, boss," he said.
At his use of the word "boss," Gatt chafed, raising his eyebrows slightly.
"Krem can lead the Chargers," Bull decided, shooting him a quick nod over his shoulder before addressing the Inquisitor once more. "Come by when you're ready to move."
Krem signaled towards his band, urging them to follow him to a nearby grassy knoll, where they were supposed to equip the remainder of their gear and weapons and await their orders. Bull followed them quietly.
"Once they're down, send up your signal," Bull instructed the Chargers. "That'll let the dreadnaught know it's safe to come in."
"Understood, Chief."
Bull's face acquired a somber expression.
"Remember: you're going to want a volley to start, but don't get suckered into fighting at range," he warned them. "They've got mages," he said tensely.
"It's all right," Krem reassured him cockily. "We've got a mage of our own."
"I'm not a mage!" Dalish rolled her eyes, protesting as the Inquisitor approached them.
"Get in close and get their enchanter down before he takes over the battlefield."
"He'll be dead before he knows it." Skinner pat her daggers.
Bull pressed his lips together before he exhaled audibly.
"Just…pay attention, all right?" He peered around the group, making sure they were all listening. "The Vints want this red lyrium shipment bad."
"Yes, I know!" Krem huffed impatiently. If he wasn't going to give him concrete directions, he could do without the coddling. "Thanks, mother," he teased, watching his companions smirk.
Bull began to step away.
"Qunaris don't have mothers, remember?"
"We'll be fine, Chief!" he nodded.
"All right, Chargers!" Bull gave them a rallying grin. "Horns up!"
"Horns up!" Krem echoed, signaling them forward.
"Ready whenever you are, boss."
The Inquisitor acknowledged him, just as eager to settle the matter.
"I'm ready to head out, Bull."
"Right! Chargers! Hit them hard and hit them fast. When this is over, drinks are on me!"
"You got it, Chief!" Krem smiled roguishly. "Chargers! Double time! Let's move!" he roared over the clatter of armor and din of weapons being hauled up.
As Gatt watched the band of mercenaries march off, he crossed his arms and shook his head.
"You gave your Chargers the easier target," he noted condescendingly.
"You think?" Bull replied, feigning surprise.
Evelyn grinned. Between her own skills and Cassandra's magic thwarting, she was confident of victory. Venatori, pampered mages who did not know much beyond Tevinter, would not know how to respond to a seasoned Seeker, never expecting to find their abilities so easily challenged, diminished…doused out. And Cassandra was ready; she could tell from the resolute expression on her face. She knew Bull wanted to spare the Chargers from the mess Gatt was plunging them into. Gatt would get what he wanted, but he was going to have to get that shiny armor of his quite dirty...
Krem kicked the shoulder of the dead Vint lying on the ground as he walked by and rested his maul over his shoulder. Grim had fired off the signal and they'd watched the flares to summon the dreadnaught light up the grey sky from the hill opposite.
"Enjoy the show," he told them, nodding towards the rocky bay below.
A medium-sized smuggling vessel rocked in the waves perilously, attempting to dock alongside an improvised dock consisting of a cluster of rocks.
They all watched in awe as the large battleship drifted into position, blasting off a volley of fiery shots that arched across the sky before striking the smaller boat.
The vessel lit up, aglow in a blanket of flames before splintering in half. Its broken halves managed to float for a few brief moments before being swallowed up by the crashing waves.
They let out a celebratory cheer.
"Drinks on the Chief!" Rocky cried out, tossing his short arms upwards.
"I am ordering the finest vintage in the house," Skinner decided.
"What vintage and what house?" Dalish teased her.
"Doesn't matter—but that's my plan!" she chuckled. "I deserve it."
Krem wondered if they could start heading back that same evening. He was antsy, eager to return to Skyhold. He crouched down, watching the dreadnaught rest triumphantly over the tossing sea.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eyes and turned his head towards the rocky shore.
"Reinforcements!" he alerted his soldiers.
They all unsheathed their weapons. Krem gripped his shield firmly, bracing himself for the new onslaught.
Two, three, emerged from a small cove, their dark hoods obscuring their faces.
It would be a struggle, but they could handle the attack if they located the enchanter among them first.
It was when several other Venatori cornered the rock joining the band heading towards the hill that his resolve began to crumble.
"Krem?" Dalish ventured nervously. "Orders?"
He looked across to where Bull and the Inquisitor supposedly stood, his heart heavy.
"We hold this position as ordered!" he announced. "Until we are told otherwise: Hold. Your. Ground," he warned them.
"We can't hold these many off without backup," Rocky whispered behind him. "And the Chief will never make it to us in time. You know that!"
Krem thought of Bull, remembering a night long ago, his large hand splayed over his bloodied face, his eye gruesomely and irrevocably damaged. Bull had run to his aid at one of his most desperate hours. He'd never asked for anything in exchange.
He'd be damned if he'd fail him now. Cost whatever it cost. On his honor.
"When we joined with the Inquisition, we joined something greater than ourselves," he told them, watching as the hooded figures began to assemble below and plot their ascent. "We don't fight these Vints just because we are paid for it; we fight because we must. Against Corypheus. For our mates who perished at Haven and Adamant. Remember that. Chargers, prepare for attack," he called out.
They would do as he commanded.
They trusted him.
Evelyn rushed to Bull's side, his expression conflicted as he watched the Venatori mages process over the beach.
"They've still got time to fall back if you signal them now!" she urged him, pointing towards the hill.
"Yeah," he uttered nervously, glancing back at the dreadnaught.
Gatt sneered at her.
"Your men need to hold that position, Bull!" he said, an ominous timbre to his words.
"They do that, they're dead," he replied.
"And if they don't, the Venatori retake it and the dreadnaught is dead!" he countered between clenched teeth. "You'll be throwing away an alliance between the Inquisition and the Qunari!" An incredulous expression marred the otherwise shrewd face. "You'd be declaring yourself Tal'Vashoth!"
Bull bristled angrily at the threat.
"With all you've given the Inquisition, half the Ben-Hassrath think you've betrayed us already!" Gatt accused. "I stood up for you, Hissrad! I told them you would never become Tal'Vashoth."
Bull leaned in, intimidatingly.
"They're my men."
"I know," Gatt stepped back, this time speaking to him in a more appeasing manner. "But you need to do what's right, Hissrad! For this alliance and for the Qun!" he implored.
Bull tensed, lowering his eye helplessly to Evelyn, gripping the battle horn tightly; he would act solely on her orders.
Almira had been dunking her mop into the bucket and swishing it across the floors all afternoon when the commotion spread through the barracks. Confusion rang in the air. She couldn't understand what was happening, but found herself rushing towards the courtyard along with others, fearful of an attack. She had heard what had happened at Haven.
She remembered her wretched dream.
Maybe we are under siege? she wondered nervously. Baba! she panicked.
She could see Commander Cullen by the gates, engaged in a heated discussion with a uniformed scout and a small band of ragged soldiers. She caught snippets of conversation around her, uttered in hushed, alarmed tones.
"An attack"
"Venatori."
"Overran the camp in broad daylight…"
"Slaughter."
A desperate cry sounded out from among the soldiers and spread as rapidly as wildfire among the crowd.
"The Inquisitor is missing!"
The ever-growing roar overtook the courtyard along with shouts of disbelief and wails of grief. Almira did not know what was happening but she felt faint from the thundering pounding in her ears. Her breath had become shallow as she found herself shoved to and fro in the tumultuous assemblage.
Commander Cullen eventually took to the main stairwell and after climbing to a landing overhanging the courtyard, began to address the swarm of soldiers, workers, merchants, mages, Chanters, servants, pilgrims, nobles, and delegates, calling for order and calm.
At the sound of his voice, the tumult began to die down, and every face was expectantly absorbed in whatever the Commander was about to say.
"Inquisition, you must exercise caution and restraint," he said, his eyes taking in the aggrieved and shocked miens in his audience. "It is too early still, and the only concrete news we do have is a report of an isolated attack on one of our camps in the Storm Coast. We must trust that there is forthcoming information. We must not let panic dictate the course of our next actions. We will maintain you informed of any developments regarding the Inquisitor," he said.
He stepped back and immediately the din began to rise again, the people still worried and dissatisfied. The Commander glanced back cautiously at his co-advisers and the few Chantry members standing nearby, before the Main Hall's entrance above, and appeared to be exchanging a few words with them. At one point he then nodded, beckoning at one of them, a woman in long Chantry robes.
"Mother Giselle will lead us in a vigil while we wait," he announced, ushering the woman forth with visible relief on his tired face.
The woman nodded to him appreciatively as he stepped back behind her, his hands folded respectfully before him. She was not a large woman, but she had an impressive presence.
"Have faith," she said simply, a hopeful smile on her face. "We have weathered greater storms." Again the rumbling died down at her soothing voice. "Let us seek the Maker's comfort and take strength in each other as we await, together" she encouraged them, raised her hands, hands splayed out to them, in a sign of blessing, and lowered her head in contemplation.
"Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder…" she began, in a firm, melodious voice. All around her, Almira watched as heads bowed, hands rose clasped before lips, fingers laced tightly, and fervent voices joined in the recitation.
She did not know the words nor the ritual those around her were partaking in and wandered aimlessly through the crowd, trying to depart the gathering.
"Almira!" she heard someone cry out nearby.
She glanced around, trying to locate the speaker.
"Almira! Here!" the voice called out again. This time she saw a group of people engaged in prayer raise their heads annoyedly at the speaker.
Stitches! she saw, deeply relieved. He must know something or have some news, she hoped, rushing through the crowd.
Stitches watched the completely distraught Almira approach him.
"Come on," he encouraged her, gripping her shoulder for support with his injured leg. "We have to find Lord Pavus."
A/N: Gatt's dialogue is all from the game. I'm not fond of Gatt, as you might be able to tell. I wouldn't even trust the guy to lay out paper plates at a picnic ("Oh, look: we miscalculated how many plates we actually need..."). Oh, and he has a mullet. Case closed!