Notes: Thank you as always! Important chapter, which leads directly into the next one. I won't delay you with long notes about it.

Song: Falconer – "The Trail of Flames"


Chapter 69: With Fire and Steel


Whatever diplomacy to Orzammar Leliana had ordered, it apparently did succeed, for a shipment of lyrium arrived about a week after Cassandra left. Caitlyn had ordered a watch on the harbor—to be performed by the Kirkwall Militia, rather than the City Guard—and they notified her as soon as the goods arrived. She had it parceled out to the groups that needed it, hoping that this would be the beginning of the end of Cullen's problem, but knowing deep inside that it likely would not be. He was already addicted to a larger dose than he should be taking, and she was not particularly generous with the Templars when the mages had used almost all of theirs to fight. If they needed more, they could make a direct request of Justinia's people, she decided. The Lord Seeker had a problem with lyrium being sent to the mages who were in rebellion. It was their supply that had to be sent furtively.

The propaganda posters continued to be printed through the winter of Dragon 9:38-39. As one set grew weathered and fragile, or was stolen to be used for free paper for letter-writing, another set replaced it. Caitlyn did not care about people stealing the pictures to turn them over and write letters on them. They were paper anyway, not going to last in a damp winter season, and by her reasoning, it spread the message for people to use them for letters.

The winter continued drearily. Heavy snowfall was not as common in Kirkwall as it was in Ferelden, but there were plenty of cold, wet, gray days, and rainstorms over the Waking Sea could be just as hazardous to maritime trade as snowstorms. A long voyage by sea this time of year was hazardous, so trade was largely limited to quick trips of a half day with the northern coastal towns of Ferelden, semi-frequent ships from Cumberland or Ostwick, and the much rarer large ships from other ports.

The seasonal decline in trade was a known quantity, but it added to hardship when it occurred during an existing war-driven depression. Caitlyn had made certain to build up a large store of goods from the surrounding farms in case people's food supply grew too scarce, and she was not surprised at reports that a great many people were going to the food kitchen.

"At least we've found a way to manage the scarcity," Aveline offered at the Small Council meeting in which these issues were brought up. "I haven't heard of starved bodies being found in the streets."

"There are more cases of hunger at the healing clinics," Anders said. "But... they're still alive, at least. And they're directed to a food kitchen afterward."

"So despite the depression, there are actually fewer people dying of starvation." Aveline gave Caitlyn and Anders a smile. "That's on you two."

Would I have done it if Harlan hadn't done it first? Caitlyn thought darkly. She hoped so. It was Anders' idea; he might have had it no matter what.

"We're managing the scarcity," she repeated, considering that phrase. "Yes, I suppose so. Better than facing a popular revolt. I just hope people's patience holds. There is only so long that people can stand to live under austerity."

"We've just got to get through the winter," Varric said. "At least people know about that and it doesn't seem as unnatural and unusual to them as being hungry in the growing season does."

"And things are better with the healing clinics and food kitchen," Anders said again. "The streets of Lowtown and alleys of Darktown were a morgue before I first arrived."

"They were," Caitlyn said reluctantly, remembering her first year in Kirkwall before Anders came. It was grim. Things really were better now, despite the decline that the war had caused. As Varric said, we have to get through the winter, she thought. And then the rest of this war.


In late winter, an unexpected ship arrived. It did not carry goods. Petra and Sketch duly reported the new arrival to Caitlyn and Anders at the Keep.

"It's the rest of the mages from Kinloch Hold," Petra explained.

"The holdouts who didn't join your rebellion in 9:37?" Caitlyn asked.

Petra nodded. "Most of them, anyway. There are still a few missing. Old Irving... he was the First Enchanter..."

Anders glared. "That simpering old Templar appeaser. The number of times I heard that he'd approved Tranquility for someone..."

Caitlyn put a gentle hand on his arm, calming his anger but evoking a sad sigh from him. Anything about Kinloch provoked that emotional mix in him. He gave her an unhappy look, but one still mixed with gratitude for her support.

"Well, he's not with our belated rebels," Petra said. "He went to the final meeting of the College of Magi last year, they tell me, and never came back."

"When the Lord Seeker disbanded it?" Caitlyn burst out, eyes wide.

Petra nodded. "Exactly. He went as an Aequitarian to vote against independence for the rest of the Circles—"

Anders laughed bitterly. "When half his Circle had already revolted and taken up arms, and the other half clearly was willing to consider it! Who did he think he spoke for?"

"The newcomers told me that he actually did think to speak for them... at the time. This was before the Battle of Kirkwall Harbor. They told me that they were not sure, given the numbers, how much of a chance that you—that we—truly stood at going it alone, and they were worried about what it would mean if the schism triumphed. They thought the best option was to try to keep the old system going and give support to Justinia to crush those heretics."

"That clearly didn't work as planned," Caitlyn said tartly.

Petra laughed. "No, it did not. And then the harbor battle occurred and everyone learned how that battle was won. That may have hurt the economy for now, but it made an impression on the latecomers from Kinloch Hold."

"Do you think Irving was killed at that final meeting?" Anders asked.

"I don't know what's going on," Petra confessed. "Nor do they. Wynne, if you remember her, Anders, was there too, and no one has heard from her either. We now fear the conclave representatives have been made captives at the White Spire or Cumberland. Comfortable captives, perhaps, but still captives."

"That is a very apt description of Circles in general," Anders said.

Caitlyn's gaze hardened. "I haven't heard a word about it from the Right or Left Hand of the Divine. That does not mean that it hasn't happened, though."

"Cassandra said the last time she visited that she had business in Cumberland," Anders pointed out. "I bet you anything it was about that."

Caitlyn stiffened, exhaling angrily at the thought. She turned to him, heat in her gaze. "You know, I think you're right, again, that not a single damn one of these Chantry people can be trusted to tell us the full truth."

Anders tried to hide the grin of validation that tugged at his lips.

She turned back to Petra. "All right. So Irving and Wynne went to this meeting and didn't return to Ferelden. The Aequitarians, who I guess are the new arrivals, finally came to their senses and realized what it meant."

Petra nodded. "And that's why they are here. Well, that and the fact that they now believe there is a chance for victory in war."

Caitlyn breathed a heavy sigh. "Well," she said, "if they are committed to the cause, and aren't going to try to turn the army against fighting—or desert—then we are glad to have their support."

"I think they mean it, Viscountess Hawke," Sketch put in. "And I'm not exactly the most trusting person. I also have some bardic experience. I think they sincerely changed their minds after Irving and Wynne didn't return and the Free Mages' army won the harbor battle."

"Well, I certainly hope so," she agreed. "Whatever our past differences, if they're fighting for the cause now, then we are all on the same side." She considered. "I want the Mages' Council to collaborate with General Aveline about forming army units based on who has what skills. We need to organize."


Tantervale, Cloudreach 9:39.

The war council of the Orthodox Chantry was in session, with a new member, the Margravine Reyna Arriata of Hercinia, present. She had not attended previous meetings because her city was geographically removed from Starkhaven and Tantervale, and to the leaders of the Minanter cities, Hercinia's part in their alliance had been a distant third to their own.

The Margravine was a beautiful woman, with the golden hair and skin of her part-Antivan heritage. Even dressed in a modest, almost priestly gown, she was lovely. But she was an extremely pious and orthodox Andrastian who disapproved of the foul politics of her mother's homeland and disapproved even more of the Viscountess of Kirkwall. She had joined her city to the Orthodox Chantry without the open support of Hercinia's powerful merchants, forcing her will through her own resolve, but those local political tensions made it difficult for her to contribute much armed support so far. Hercinia had a small Circle, also kept on a very tight leash, but that very need to control the mages meant that the couple score of Templars at that Circle had to stay where they were.

The men present at the meeting admired the Margravine, but they did not expect her to be able to contribute much. Her city's part in their alliance brought it additional legitimacy, but that seemed to be all that it brought.

"It is long past time we made another offensive," Tantervale Chancellor Joffrey Orrick exclaimed in annoyance. "What are we waiting for? It's eight months since the harbor battle fiasco."

Elthina, Divine Fidelia, gazed levelly at him. "We lost four warships to that apostate mob. We are better off than they are in terms of a navy, but it was a loss. We also lost two hundred Red Templars who were aboard those ships. That was a serious setback. You are aware that rebuilding our special forces requires rather more time than rebuilding a regular army, are you not? It is not a matter of simply issuing a new draft."

"We still haven't rebuilt the Templars," Knight-Vigilant Trentwatch put in. "With no new Circle rebellions, there haven't been much more than a few stragglers to show up to fight for us. The Lord Seeker may have been too effective. He's crushed rebellions among the mages, but he's also prevented Templars from breaking with the false Divine and joining us."

"And even when a person is trained as a Templar and knows Templar skills, it takes additional time to acclimate them to red lyrium," Knight-Captain Denam said. "Giving it to novices, new Templar recruits who've never taken the regular kind, kills them fast. They have to be broken in on the conventional kind first." Denam noticed that both Trentwatch and Prince Sebastian bore looks of distaste. "What of it? Giving a new recruit too much conventional lyrium at first also proves fatal. They have to be acclimated to it. Always have been. With red lyrium, it's a pity that we had to discover that the hard way, but their sacrifices are smiled upon by the Maker." He shrugged.

"I don't much care for your blitheness, Denam," Sebastian said sharply. "Lyrium overdose is a cruel way to die. You could show a little more respect."

The Red Templar exhaled, refraining from rolling his eyes. Lyrium overdose, indeed, he thought derisively. If you only knew exactly how a Red Templar dies, spikes and clusters bursting from their body, you would piss your royal breeches. For a man so conspicuously pious, you have no stomach for making a true sacrifice for the Maker.

But he kept these thoughts to himself. "As you say. Maker turn His gaze upon them. But my point is that our Templar and Red Templar numbers are nowhere near what they were before the Kirkwall Harbor disaster, and they won't be for a while yet unless we see more Circles revolt."

Elthina spoke up. "And besides, Hawke has war machines and is using Tevinter Army tactics. We needed to rebuild and make new plans to adjust to this. Furthermore," she added, "there is a backlash against Hawke among the common folk and mercantile shippers. It seems that Viscountess Apostate may have gone too far by having her mage mob destroy ships with magic. The tactic that won her that battle could lose the war for her."

"About time," Joffrey Orrick growled. "This war is hurting our economy too. Unless merchant ships go through Kirkwall's harbor with false flags, we basically cannot trade with Orlais anymore, and all trade with Nevarra must be land-based. There's only so much wealth we can bring in through shipping trade with Antiva, the coastal Marcher cities, and the heathens in Rivain."

"Well, Kirkwall is experiencing hard times due to its own leader's rash decisions. Merchants have rightly seen that those appalling tactics could be deployed against them too, and it has hurt Kirkwall's economy. The leader of the Coterie, Harlan, is taking advantage of this."

Prince Sebastian spoke up. "Harlan is the leader of a criminal syndicate. He is not the kind of viscount we would want in Kirkwall."

"Certainly not. Should he overthrow Hawke, we would not let him stay in power. He refused our offer of alliance, as well, though I think that is due to slyness rather than devotion to the false Divine. But for the time being, he is a useful domestic-front foil to Hawke. His popular movement in Kirkwall weakens her in the eyes of her people. His movement is useful to us now, and in due time, he may be more useful yet, for a different reason."

Sebastian nodded. "True. It would be a disgrace in the eyes of Thedas for a crime lord and a brothel-keeper to take over Kirkwall. Even more than an apostate whose first child was born illegitimate. Caitlyn Hawke has noble blood, she did marry her son's father, Anders is a Grey Warden whom the Hero of Ferelden herself recruited, and Justinia's tacit support validates Hawke in the eyes of the credulous. Harlan and Lusine? That would be an outrage, and if they overthrew her, we would have a great opening to raise ourselves by removing them. Especially since Justinia is tied up with the civil unrest in Orlais and keeping that fragile peace between the Seekers, Templars, and remaining Circles. She would look weak and ineffective; we would look strong. It would be clear we had the Maker's favor."

"Exactly," Elthina agreed. "Hawke has kept Harlan at bay—barely—with policy responses, but a large part of her support comes from the fact that she has not lost a battle." She pointed to the war map. "It is time to change that."

"With all due respect, Most Holy," Trentwatch began, "what can we do with the Templar and"—he swallowed a grimace—"Red Templar forces decimated?"

Elthina turned to Margravine Arriata with a knowing look. It was the leader of Hercinia who responded. "We can take a city that is profoundly vulnerable," she said. "The rebel mages of Markham fled to Kirkwall, and we must assume that most of the Markham apostates joined them. The only mages remaining there are the handful of Circle loyalists. And my city is merely three days' march from Markham, and it has a force that has not been battered at all." She smiled. "With no apostate army, we don't need Templars to take Markham."

"Well said, Your Grace," Elthina approved. She faced the war council. "When Hawke loses one of her two allies, there is every reason to assume that the people of Kirkwall will have had enough of her destructive, unholy war."

The other council members pondered this. Sebastian spoke up. "It's a good plan," he said. "Merely three days from Markham... You could have the city conquered before Hawke even knows that you are there."

"That is our hope, Your Highness," said the Margravine. "And if we can besiege it, Markham will be hard put to get a message through."

"If you believe your own force can do it, I won't argue," he continued. "No offense, Your Grace, but I'd rather keep Starkhaven's army here than make my city vulnerable to an attack from the south. But I could send a convoy of Chantry officials down the Minanter to secure Markham and restore order."

"And they could bear our replacement Margrave and hand-picked staff," Joffrey Orrick put in, seeing the plan.

Margravine Arriata nodded. "I am confident in my city's militia. Markham will be in our hands, and with that, this war will soon be over."


Kirkwall, Bloomingtide 9:39.

Caitlyn had just received a positive report of the military training exercises—both for the Kirkwall Militia and the new mage army units—when a messenger hurried to her with a rolled and sealed note.

"This came from a raven, Your Grace!" the messenger said. "A Markham bird! It may be urgent!"

Caitlyn was instantly concerned as she took the message. She gestured for the messenger to return to her duties and for Aveline, who had told her about the military exercises, to remain. She opened the small scroll.

.

Viscountess Hawke,

We beg for your help most urgently. We are under attack in Markham. The enemy force bears the heraldry of Hercinia. We see no others. Few Templars. We have sent word to the mages of Dairsmuid, who have free movement due to a flexible arrangement of their Circle, but we call upon you as our treaty-sworn ally too. The city walls are holding at the time we sent this bird, but we fear that they will not hold indefinitely. Please come to our aid.

Margrave Nestor Armitage of Markham

.

Caitlyn's heart thumped hard at this dire news. She turned to Aveline, who had been reading over her shoulder. They shared the same look of worry.

"This is dated two days ago," Caitlyn said. "Surely he sent it immediately after the enemy force arrived."

Aveline nodded. "If the walls have held, Markham will be under siege, but we still have time to come to their aid. We cannot delay, though."

"And we won't."


Anders left the children in the Keep when he arrived, very worried, at the Gallows where Caitlyn had summoned the Free Mages to gather. His face was pale with fear.

"We're going," she assured him quietly. "We have more support than ever now, and we are not going to let our allies down."

He nodded. "I just hope we are in time. We can't get there as fast as the raven could fly."

"As long as the walls hold, it's a siege, not a slaughter." Her gaze hardened. "We will bring the slaughter."

At last the final stragglers had entered the Gallows assembly hall. The mage guards closed the doors behind them. Rumors had spread like wildfire, and a low rumble, incomprehensible in specifics to the leaders at the head of the hall—but nonetheless clear in its substance—sounded through the chamber.

Caitlyn cast a spell to amplify her voice. "Mages! Free Mages!"

The rumble subsided.

"First—the rumors you have undoubtedly heard are correct," she said, getting to the point at once. "Markham, our ally, is under attack by an army from Hercinia. The walls have held, to the best of our knowledge, but Markham's city militia is a bit smaller than Hercinia's. We must aid our ally."

Most of the gathered mages took this news with grim resolve. A few, however, appeared to have an objection.

"Why? What's the point?" one man called out.

"Excuse me?" Anders snarled. "You have to ask that?"

Caitlyn turned to the Mages' Council. "Fereldan newcomer?" she asked them quietly, so that no one else could hear.

Petra squinted at the speaker and shook her head. Her voice was quiet too. "No. A suspected Potentatist." She studied the crowd again. "It looks like the Aequitarians from Ferelden are more eager to fight than just about anyone."

"This looks like a typical fight between mundanes," the man insisted. "Not our problem. All the Markham mages who wanted to rebel did. To the Void with the ones who stayed! They can beg their precious Templars to save them!"

Anders was outraged. "You would leave fellow mages to the tender mercies of the Orthodox Chantry and the Red Templars?"

The fellow was somewhat cowed by the fact that the Viscountess's husband was challenging him, but he managed to stick to his position. "They made their choice, didn't they?" he said. Behind him, about a score more agreed.

Caspar Waite angled his staff in a blatant combat challenge. "Those are our old colleagues and that is our city you're talking about, you lazy, selfish—"

Caitlyn decided to end this before spells flew. "Anders and Waite are correct. This is not just about the handful of mages in Markham's Circle," she said, her voice projecting in a way that silenced the crowd. "Markham is our ally, one of the first two to join our cause. The Margrave is related by blood and marriage to noble allies of mages on my Small Council. Would you have it said across Thedas that the Free Mages are faithless, betraying allies in their hour of need?"

That made an impression on some. Shuffles arose from the group.

"It's not just a matter of honor, though. It's strategic. If Markham fell, the reach of the mage-haters would grow. They would gain soldiers to their side by forcing Markham's militia to fight for them. And what if they target the University, as tyrannical movements always target bastions of free thought? Years of scholarship would be lost to zealots!"

"The mages of Dairsmuid are coming, too," Anders chimed in angrily. "You'd leave them to fight alone? And you'd have the rest of the mages, those who are still debating independence, saying that the handful of Circle loyalists fought but the Free Mages of Thedas didn't?"

The objectors were thoroughly shamed. "Your Graces have some good points," one muttered, hanging his head.

"Then prepare to sail," Caitlyn said. A sudden surge of energy seemed to fill her, and inspirational words tumbled from her lips as the rush suffused her. "For the mages who stayed behind, another chance to be free! For the Rivaini mages joining the fight, solidarity! For knowledge, protection from the fires of censorship! For our allies, loyalty and honor!"

The mages cheered with approval.

The rush of inspiration and energy was turning to joy in Caitlyn's heart. "For mage freedom throughout Thedas, we show the strength of our convictions! We show our friends still in Circles, or still hiding in fear, that we won't stay here and defend just our own city. We will fight the enemy wherever they try to crush the spirit of liberty! My friends, we are going to war!"

In a sudden surge of inspiration, energy, and love, she grabbed Anders' left hand with her right and raised their arms together, hands clasped. This romantic gesture elicited a roar of approval from the crowd.

"Free Mages of Thedas!" she shouted. Her cheeks hurt from smiling.

When she lowered their arms, Anders gazed at her intensely for a moment—and then pulled her close for a kiss, heedless of the public location. An involuntary growl escaped his lips, and a moan hers, as he devoured her, his tongue plundering her mouth, his hands finding their way to a tight and shockingly risque grip on her hips. She felt his hard grip through the fabric.

The roar erupted again, twice as loud.


It was one thing to make a decision. Caitlyn had rallied her people, but she could not just storm away and take her whole army with her. She quickly summoned her War Council and pored over the map in the war room with them.

"We have to leave some people behind to defend Kirkwall," she said. "We have no reports of anyone marching from the north, or sailing, but we have to leave some people here."

The others nodded in total agreement.

"Here are the numbers I have. If they are wrong, correct me at once. Originally, with the first half of Ferelden's Circle mages and all the apostates and former Circle mages of Kirkwall, we had approximately two hundred battlemages. Sketch led a force of apostates that added a hundred and eighty. Caspar Waite brought us forty-seven from Markham. We have lost about a score of mages in battle, but we have added almost that number from apprentices who came of age and joined the army since Dragon 9:37."

No one disputed her.

"The rest of the Fereldans came, adding an additional... ninety. Over the course of the war, we have also added about a hundred more apostates who were... I hate to use this term, but 'hedge mages,' as well as some escapees from Circles that haven't yet rebelled. By my reckoning, this leaves us with just over six hundred battlemages and Healers."

Several of them had been doing the arithmetic themselves on scraps of paper. They nodded, no one disputing her numbers.

"I have a force of seven hundred Kirkwall Militia members, and it is growing by the day as more people join. This doesn't include the City Guard."

"The City Guard should probably remain behind," Aveline advised. "They could defend the city, and corruption is only a problem when it comes to fighting crime. An invasion, Maker forbid, is different. They would defend the city. They did against the Qunari. But they aren't trained as military."

Caitlyn nodded. "I was going to say the same. Make sure the ones manning the war machines know how to use them effectively."

"I have seen to that already, Your Grace."

"Excellent. We're taking the mobile war machines with us, but the ones at the city walls will remain. We also have a dozen Templars who have not signed up with the Grand Cleric. They will all stay in Kirkwall too, just in case the enemy shows up with their Loyalist mages on their leashes. And, yes," she said to the leaders of the Mage Council, "some of your people must stay behind. I think about seventy battlemages. We held off the Qunari with fewer Circle mages than that fighting, and they were inside the city, not besieging it."

Petra nodded reluctantly. "I understand, and you're right, of course."

"A lottery might be the best way to avoid offended, hurt feelings. And... I'm sorry, my friends... but one of you should stay too, to lead them."

"It should also help them to feel worthy and valued," Anders added, "if one of their own leaders stays behind."

Alain took a breath. "Unless you had other plans for me, I volunteer to stay behind. I was First Enchanter of Kirkwall briefly. And I have a rapport with the City Guard due to leading the mages who are in it. It should be me."

"I was going to leave the choice to you," Caitlyn said kindly. "Thank you, Enchanter Alain." She took another deep breath. "Maker forbid that it happens, but if the enemy does show up, you must be prepared to rally the other mages too, the ones who are not part of the Free Mage army. They'll have to defend their homes and their city in an emergency."

Alain nodded, and she turned back to the war map. "We will have about seven hundred non-mage soldiers and five hundred and fifty battlemages. We'll also have the Rivainis. As I understand it, that'll add nearly two hundred mages to our numbers. They have a Circle and many more apostates and shamans. And Markham's own non-mage militia, which numbers several thousand."

Caspar Waite spoke up. "Close to three thousand. But Hercinia has that many too. Right now my city has the advantage of defending its own walls."

"Our reinforcements will make the difference," Caitlyn declared. "Over five hundred battle-hardened mages especially."


As the army rapidly prepared to leave for battle, there was one more visit Caitlyn and Anders had to make. She had kept it out of her mind until now, because it was too much, but there was no avoiding it any longer.

"Mother," she said heavily to Leandra, a lump in her throat, "you and your entire household need to go to the Keep."

Leandra nodded sadly, expecting it. Charade looked grimly unsurprised.

Caitlyn took a deep breath to steel herself. "You must protect the children. That is the safest place."

"Not the Chantry?" Leandra asked. "There is a right of sanctuary..."

Anders spoke up, his words bitter. "There's a right of sanctuary in chantries in wars between nations, or civil wars. If both sides are Andrastian," he added pointedly. "But the Chantry never granted a right of sanctuary when it made war on the Dalish, or the Tevinters... nor do the Tevinters do it themselves... nor do the Qunari. If it's a war involving different religions, you cannot assume the enemy will respect a religious building as a sanctuary."

Leandra looked shocked at the thought of Andrastians violently breaching a House of the Maker in war, but she could not argue his point.

"Anders is right," Caitlyn said, supporting him. "The Keep is the safest place to be. It has defenses that the Chantry doesn't. And that's if, number one, the enemy even attacks—and we have no intelligence that they're attacking any place but Markham," she emphasized to try to calm her own nerves as much as her mother's. "And number two, if they invade the city. I don't think a land-based assault can breach the city walls, and the harbor will be heavily guarded. And hopefully nothing will happen at all and I'm just being over-prepared!"

"What if it does?" her mother said quietly. "What if the city is breached?"

Anders and Caitlyn exchanged anguished looks. The idea of her mother and uncle trying to sneak the children out of Kirkwall past enemy lines was horrifying. It was impossible that they could make it out if they tried that. Leandra was too prone to panic and Uncle Gamlen was... himself.

Charade was watching with a shrewd look, but she remained silent.

"There are secret rooms in the family quarters," Caitlyn finally managed.

This actually seemed to mollify Leandra, though she still looked mournful as she and her brother made their plans. When they were out of hearing range, Charade approached Caitlyn and Anders. Her visage was disturbingly dark.

"I'm a Red Jenny. I could disguise the children and get them out safely," she said in a grim voice. "And I have a sleeping potion if the little one needed it. I'd look like a poor young single mother with her children."

But my mother and uncle would not be going with you, Caitlyn thought, sharing another wretched look with Anders. They're too noisy, would slow you down, and their presence would make the group's identity too obvious. Oh yes, she understood Charade perfectly.

But what could she do? If she had to choose between her two children and her mother and uncle, the choice was heartbreaking but clear. She was certain that her mother herself would agree—and probably Gamlen too. And Anders.

Caitlyn took a deep breath. "Maker grant it doesn't come to that and we're all just too paranoid."

"It's not paranoia if someone really is out to get you—and this is a war, so you know that someone is out to get you."

Charade's dark humor actually made Caitlyn laugh too. But it was a bleak one. She took a heavy breath. "All right, then. If it comes to that, do it."


Mal and Jo Beth were horrified and upset that their parents were leaving to go to war. Mal understood it far better than his toddler sister did, but even to him, war was something that took his parents away from home for perhaps a day or two. The Battle of Wildervale was the farthest afield that they had had to go. This was something else, something far more frightening.

He also understood better than his mother and father liked what it meant when they told him to obey his cousin Charade "no matter what."

Mal gazed at them with wide, horrified hazel eyes. "I... will," he whispered, gazing at his parents with a sick look in his young face. He turned to Jo Beth, who was sobbing with tears from the fact that her Mama and Daddy were going to leave her, but with little understanding other than that. The young boy's gaze hardened as he faced Caitlyn and Anders again. "And I will make sure she stays with us. But I'll pray to the Maker that... it doesn't happen," he concluded in a whisper, not even wanting to voice the potentiality.

"Do that," Caitlyn agreed gently. "Listen, Mal... I swear to you, your father and I do not think that anything is likely to happen here... and we will come back to you... but I know how worried you will be, and I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry about everything." Tears came to her eyes, against her will. What would Mal think to see her cry? She blinked, hoping he had not seen.

He had seen, but it did not frighten him further. He moved close, hugging his mother. She felt shame that her son was comforting her instead of the reverse, and hugged him back tightly. "I know," he whispered. "And I know you have to fight the war. I just wish..." He broke off into sobs of his own.

Anders moved in, pulling his sobbing daughter into the family hug. He was notably taller than anyone else in the family and was able to envelop them all. "I understand," he said softly, "and I wish it could have happened differently too. But we will come back to you and your sister." He broke the embrace and ruffled his children's hair, one hand on Mal's and one on Jo Beth's. A crooked smile filled his face. "We'll come back and have a big feast."

Mal managed a weak smile for his father. "I'll look forward to that."


Markham, annoyingly, was not a port city, so it was not possible to sail into the harbor and join the battle there. The city was inland, located just north of the eastern foothills of the Vimmarks on a trade road. Some overland marching was unavoidable. Nonetheless, it was still faster to sail to the closest point of approach on the coast and march only the short distance north-northwest. The army had swelled to such a size that it was no longer possible to speed everyone along with Haste, so she studied the map closely to minimize the land distance.

"Markham ought to have a road and a port here," she grumbled as she led the army off the Vengeance, the flagship. "It's only twenty miles by the map."

Her ships were not the only ones at this inlet. Ships bearing the flags of Rivain had already arrived and anchored. And there were not any ships from Hercinia—or elsewhere in the schism states. That was a good sign. It was also a good sign that the Rivaini ships were present. That meant that their occupants were engaged in battle.

"How did they beat us?" Sketch gasped.

"A lot fewer people, so less planning," Aveline said. "And the First Enchanter is the daughter of a pirate. I'm sure she knew some tricks."

Caitlyn grew impatient as her army, over twelve hundred strong, gradually disembarked. Her impatience towered even higher as the war machines were rolled down a wide ramp. Those were going to slow the march. They would have to take a winding path to avoid hauling them uphill. But there is no choice, she reminded herself. They will break the enemy, the trebuchets especially. And we're moving as fast as we can. I'm sure Hercinia's army had no idea we would learn of the attack this quickly. Our ravens made all the difference for this battle.

She just hoped that, when the army reached Markham's walls, the battle would not be going badly.


Markham was a cultured city with a large and proud university. The University of Markham was perhaps best known for its agricultural studies, though it had a full complement of scholars who stayed in correspondence with their counterparts in the Universities of Orlais and Denerim—and, rumor had it, Tevinter. That university was one of the things that the armies of Kirkwall and the Free Mages had come to defend.

It was clear enough why the University of Markham specialized in agriculture. The city was nestled in a fertile valley of the Vimmark foothills, with farmland surrounding it. And columns of smoke had risen from much of this farmland, clouding the sky in a gray haze. This was the first sight to which the army was treated as it emerged from the winding maze of valleys between the foothills. The city itself was only barely visible through the grim cloud.

"They burned the crops!" Anders gasped.

Caitlyn's gaze hardened at the sight. Yes, it was a logical thing to do when conducting a siege... unless, of course, Markham had done it itself to keep the enemy from stealing the food... but it still angered her. "Our people aren't the only ones going hungry, then," she said in hard tones. "I can only hope Markham's own forces did this to prepare for the siege." She turned to her generals and leaders. "Which we are going to lift!"

A cheer erupted from the mages and militia in the vanguard.

Caitlyn took out an Antivan spyglass, the sort that the lighthouse-keeper used at home, and held it up to get a closer look at the battlefield. Aveline had one of her own, as did Anders and the mage leaders. The field came into somewhat clearer focus through the magnification.

"The walls are holding, it appears," Aveline observed.

Caitlyn gazed through the spyglass. The walls of Markham looked battered, but they had not collapsed. That wasn't to say that Hercinia's militia hadn't tried its damnedest. "The enemy has siege equipment too," she noted. A plan quickly formed in her mind at that observation. She turned to Petra and the other mages. "Hercinia's army is assaulting the walls. They haven't been able to breach them, but the city's defenders haven't been able to do serious damage yet either. The enemy has been staying too far away, I'd guess, using their war machines instead."

"What are we going to do about it?" Sketch asked worriedly. "What our trebuchets and ballistae can do to them, theirs can do to us too."

"I want the mage teams that can land powerful massed elemental spells to target their equipment," Caitlyn said. "Reduce it to splinters."

Petra was still studying the battlefield. "It looks like the Rivainis have formed a defensive guard against the walls—but outside the city," she said.

"They'd do better from atop the walls," Aveline said.

"But if Markham let them in, the enemy would rush the gates," Caitlyn said. "It doesn't appear that they've taken that many casualties. If the enemy gets close enough to take them out, they're close enough to be attacked themselves from the ramparts." She considered the field, rapidly coming to a conclusion about what needed to be done. "All right. Mage teams who can blast the enemy's equipment with massed elemental spells will do that. Everyone else, 'hammer and anvil' strategy. We're going to force them against the walls and smash them."

She ordered her banners raised high, flags bearing the heraldry of Kirkwall, Ferelden, Markham, and the spellcasting fist of the Free Mages of Thedas. Then, with a roar, the army rushed the field.


Caitlyn had thought that the Qunari attack and Battle of Wildervale were wild. The scene she soon found herself in was something else entirely. Wildervale had been a pitched battle, but the numbers involved had not even approached the numbers here. Her own twelve-hundred-plus joined with the two hundred or so Rivainis and three thousand Markham forces, most of whom were inside the walls. Hercinia's numbers had been slightly diminished, but the enemy still boasted well over two thousand soldiers. This battle was unlike anything Caitlyn had ever seen before.

They were also flying heraldry that she had never seen before. The sigil of Hercinia marked their banners, but so did something else: a blood-red Chantry sunburst, pierced by a downward-pointing black sword, on a white field. Downward-pointing to signify judgment, she thought darkly. Everyone knows what you stand for, you murderous mage-hating heretics. The sight angered her and Anders, who understood it equally well. He knew what the downward-pointing blade meant with respect to the concept of vengeance.

The sight also motivated her army to land their first attack with lethal precision. An enemy officer gave the order to target a huge trebuchet away from Markham's walls and rotate it around to attack the incoming army instead. But it was slow to wheel the massive device, and the mages took full advantage.

"Elemental teams!" Caitlyn screamed at the master elementalists, who were lined up in formation behind their leader Petra. "Shatter that thing!"

They slammed their staves to the ground as one. From the smoky sky, as if the stinking plumes were thunderclouds themselves, an enormous bolt of lightning, as big and charged as one that would strike from a cloud, hit the trebuchet. The wooden beams shattered into splinters, the metal mechanisms arced with bolts from the monster strike, and the rock with which it had been loaded tumbled to the ground with a wicked smash that flattened several enemy soldiers who had been attempting to turn the device.

Cheers erupted from the elementalist team. Caitlyn smiled grimly but did not wait one moment. The enemy forces were already positioning another device to attack.

"That one!" she shouted, pointing at it. "Take it down! Team two!"

The exhausted vanguard of elementalists gave way to their replacements as they took a break to restore their mana. One thing Caitlyn and Anders had decided to do was to have the special forces operate in shifts whenever possible, so that they could rebuild their magic naturally and preserve their lyrium.

A wave of enemy forces had broken out, advancing rapidly toward Caitlyn's army. They were mounted, she saw, and carried lances and swords. That could tear us apart if we don't stop them, she thought in a panic. She whirled around to the Kirkwall Militia. "Trebuchet team! Ready a stone! Force mages, help them lift it! Ballista teams, prepare to shoot at incoming cavalry!"

Her machine teams began to ready their equipment. The horses and their riders galloped closer. Shit! she panicked, rational thought fleeing her.

Anders took over, somehow having kept his head. "Frost team! Hit them! Cone of Cold! Even if you don't freeze them solid, slow the fuckers down!"

The cavalry continued to charge. The ground vibrated with hoofbeats. Caitlyn's panic grew as they galloped closer and closer—

Barely thirty feet before the riders reached the vanguard, Anders' frost team cast their spells. Many cavalry froze in their tracks. The rest were slowed to a crawl. The ballistae snapped, and bolts tore through the frozen forms, shattering them into pieces of red ice.

The trebuchet creaked, and a huge stone flew over Caitlyn's and Anders' heads, smashing to the ground and rolling forward from its own momentum, killing cavalry by the score. Those who survived this assault did not survive the attacks from over five hundred hardened battlemages and seven hundred cavalry and infantry, many of whom carried crossbows or longbows.

Caitlyn had known intellectually that this battle was going to turn into carnage when she had heard of the numbers involved, but seeing it was another matter. She felt sick at the sight of so many ruined bodies, human and equine, completely unidentifiable now, nothing more than red smears and fragments of organ and bone smashed into the ground.

They were people, she thought as she gave the signal for her force to continue its advance toward the besieged city. She tried not to look at the blood-soaked patch of land as she led the charge. Wrong and probably hate-filled, but people. The horses were totally innocent. And that could happen to us too. We could end up like that, unidentifiable bloody smashed horrors.

She instantly forced that thought from her mind as she charged.


Caitlyn soon learned that, despite her best-laid plans, battlefields always devolved into chaos if the battle went on long enough.

The militia of Hercinia realized the precarious position they found themselves in and quickly divined Caitlyn's hammer-and-anvil strategy. They did their best to avoid being caught between the anvil of Markham's well-defended walls and the hammer of Caitlyn's force. That meant that a pitched battle rapidly took shape before the city walls.

She attempted to keep her army in formation, to envelop the enemy army in a semicircle and close in around them, forcing them against the walls. In most places, the line held. Militia attacked at the front: sword-wielders fighting in melee, spearmen holding the line with their sharp blades pointed outward. Mages, archers, and crossbowmen rained projectiles from behind. The ballista teams sent bolts into the flanks as soldiers protected them from direct attack, and the trebuchet teams and force mages sent deadly boulders crashing through the enemy ranks farther back. Other mages laid waste to the enemy's equipment and clusters of soldiers with powerful area-of-effect spells.

But there was one location where Caitlyn's line did not hold. A stone from an enemy trebuchet smashed through the army before the mages could destroy the device, leaving a gaping hole and scattering the survivors. Hercinia soldiers flooded through the gap before Caitlyn's people could fully close it.

"Enclose them!" she screamed at the soldiers who were fighting in this area, taking her mount just far enough away to be out of immediate danger but close enough that they could hear. "Circle around! Close them in! Fight!"

The soldiers and mages heard their leader attempting to rally them. They caught her idea and tried to regroup.

A flash of inspiration, daring but risky, struck Caitlyn. She spurred her horse closer to the gap, closing her ears to Anders' shouts of dismay and fear, and raised her staff high. Her black drakeskin armor gleamed even under the smoky haze. Her gaze hardened in concentration, green eyes narrowing, as she brought down a ferocious force spell right in the middle of the enemy wave.

Soldiers were slammed back as if the air itself had turned against them. They were flung from the central point of the spell, flying backward, some directly into the blades of Caitlyn's eager militia, others careening into their own line and knocking them down too, some falling on their heads or necks and dying at once.

Caitlyn turned her horse around. "Close the gap!" she commanded as she rode back to safety—and a furious, but relieved, Anders.


"What the fuck?" he shouted at her. "That was completely unnecessary! Your words were rallying them! You didn't have to do that!"

She smirked back at him. "It worked, though."

"'It worked,'" he repeated, staring at her. "Just like fighting the Arishok! Don't you ever fucking endanger yourself needlessly again!"

Her smirk broadened. "Your blood is really up. I can tell because you're saying that word a lot." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I like it."

Anders gaped in disbelief. "Sweet Maker," he swore. "This is where your mind is right now. Later, sweetheart. We have a battle to win first!"

She laughed, the sound bizarrely light in the midst of the bloody chaos surrounding them. "You don't say." She gave him an arch look, then turned to face her rather amused lieutenants. "We're winning! We're smashing them! Keep at it! No mercy!"

But no sooner had those words left her mouth than a small group of enemy fighters, about thirty, exchanged mutual looks and threw down their weapons all at once. And those weapons were—

"Staves!" Anders exclaimed, shocked. So much magic was flying from their own side, and this unit of mages was so small compared to the Hercinia army, that he had not even noticed it. Neither had Caitlyn. Their mages were far more powerful and coordinated than these. In fact, she wondered if they had attacked fellow mages at all, or had just hidden behind the soldiers.

"Hercinia's Circle," she guessed at once. She turned to the lieutenants. "Take them prisoner. If they're surrendering, they may be prepared to switch sides and fight for their freedom."

Her mages moved to take these captive, which the Hercinia mages were freely, almost happily, allowing. Perhaps they had been forced to fight against their will. It was a small force, and not very powerful—or not allowed to become very powerful, most likely—but every mage who could be saved was a win for Caitlyn, Anders, and their people.

"No! Don't let them join the apostates! Kill them!"

"Templars!" Anders shouted as a small but fierce and determined force of Templars rode hard for the surrendering mages. He gazed in panic. "We have to stop them! They're going to kill the mages—and, fuck! All the Hercinia mage children were left behind!"

Caitlyn understood him at once. If any of these Templars survived to flee the battle, they would carry word back to the Circle, and the innocents left behind would be at grave risk of Annulment. Every last one of them had to die. In fact, every Hercinia soldier had to either die or be captured. With a Circle of innocent hostages, there could be no survivors to tell tales.

She made a decision in a split second. She shouted to the Hercinia mages. "Fight those Templars with us and you won't even be confined!" she called out.

They needed no persuasion. The mages of Caitlyn's army also understood the threat without needing to be told. They turned the full fury of their magic upon the enemy Templars, not letting a single one escape.


Later.

At last, the battle plan that Caitlyn had set had come to fruition. The gates of Markham had opened when the city officers deemed the enemy sufficiently cornered, and the flood of nearly untouched Markham militia had finished the job that Caitlyn's army had started. The anvil had not been the walls, but the Markham force itself, and Rivain's mages had joined on that flank.

Finally, the remnant of Hercinia's decimated militia realized that the battle was lost. But fewer than seven hundred people threw down their arms.

The rest, over two thousand people, littered the battlefield, a grim sea of blood, broken bodies, and death.

I knew that war was going to be like this, Caitlyn thought as she rode silently toward the open gates of Markham at the head of her army. I knew what it would mean. I'd seen plenty of death now in my life, as well. But I still had not seen anything like this before today.

She had not taken massive losses, but some of her people had fallen, far more than in previous battles. The one trebuchet stone that had broken her line had claimed the majority, but some had fallen in melee or from a lucky arrow.

Two hundred of my own. Five hundred from Markham. Two thousand of the enemy. This war is necessary and just, and I am fighting for the side of justice, but this is hideous.


Margrave Armitage of Markham meant to hold a banquet to celebrate the victory as soon as his people's hunger could be relieved. He had given the order to burn the crops, and it was early enough in the growing season that they could be planted anew.

In the meantime, he had more news for the army's leaders.

"I cannot tell you how grateful I am," he said frankly. "But I've received word that there is another force heading our way, I'm afraid."

Caitlyn stiffened. Beside her, Anders groaned. "What force?" she asked.

"Several ships heading down the Minanter—not warships, according to my spies. They bear the insignia of that heretical so-called Chantry. We think they are carrying some of those heretic priests, probably a few Templars, and, no doubt, the puppet lord they intended to replace me." He glowered.

"But not a second wave of fighters?"

"It didn't look that way. But there are bound to be some people aboard who can fight. They'd be fools to send priests without defenders. We'll have an encore, as the Orlesians would say."

Caitlyn considered this. A realization struck her, and it was all she could do to keep from blurting it out. "We might. But there is another option now."


Caitlyn was eager to get into bed with Anders, but her idea needed urgently to be discussed, and she was determined to discuss it before they retired for the evening. She called her war leaders into her private quarters for a conference.

As they gathered around, she unrolled a map on the table. "We have an important opportunity, and unless I hear a very good argument against it, we're going to take it." She picked up several figurines marked to signify the enemy forces and placed them on the map—one besieging Markham, two on the Minanter River. "Starkhaven and Tantervale have ships en route to firmly establish the conquest of Markham. They think. They didn't account for the possibility that we could get information fast. They didn't expect us to arrive in time to break the siege and secure the city. They thought to get here first."

Caspar Waite spoke up. "This fight isn't won," he said. "We'll still have to defend against those ships."

"We might have to defend against them," she corrected. "We have the support of Dairsmuid if they do put up a fight. That's another thing our enemies didn't count on. But there is a good chance that they will not even come to Markham once they discover something else." A gleam appeared in her green eyes as she picked up the figure, representing Hercinia, that had been besieging Markham—and removed it from the map.

Beside her, Anders suddenly realized what she was alluding to. "Maker," he breathed as he saw it.

Caitlyn stared fiercely at her officers. "Hercinia sent nearly all of its army to besiege Markham, leaving itself almost undefended. That army is now destroyed, over two thousand dead, the rest captured. Hercinia is barely more than three days from here. We have more than enough manpower to defend Markham and take Hercinia. An offensive move on our part, for a change."

They gathered around the map and gaped at it.

"Starkhaven and Tantervale will have bigger things to worry about than smugly finishing the conquest of Markham," Caitlyn finished. "They'll find Hercinia itself under attack before they even reach Markham. They gambled and lost. We're going to make them pay."

"And we'll liberate the rest of the mages in Hercinia's Circle," Anders said fervently. "The children, the ones who can't fight. The Templars and schism clerics would Annul it after this defeat."

The other mage leaders agreed, and Caitlyn gave him a sympathetic, loving, grateful look. That was indeed another excellent reason to go to Hercinia.

"Suppose we take Hercinia," Aveline said. "They'll constantly be fighting to retake it, won't they? Do we want to have to defend a new front?"

Caitlyn thought about it. That was a valid point. "The most important thing is to topple the government and get the Orthodox Chantry out," she said. "It's a rich city, with no long-standing history of religious fanaticism or anti-mage hatred. I strongly suspect that the only reason it joined the schism is sympathy from the current Margravine. Remove her, and I would just bet that the people of Hercinia don't support it."