Adara tried not to grow impatient as the days became weeks with no word from Zevran. Redcliffe was a long journey from Denerim after all, and it could take even more time to ferret out information about Ser Harrith and the rest of the Faithful. Adara could only wait and hope that no news was good news. She had been lucky twice so far. She may not be so lucky when they tried again, and she was tired of feeling hunted.
So she watched the skies and the roads for messengers, growing a little more restless with each day that passed. Not that she had time to be idle: in fact, being more or less imprisoned at Vigil's Keep meant that she had all the time in the world to deal with petitions from the nobility and mediate squabbles among the freemen without an excuse to dump the duties on her seneschal instead.
The only bright side was that Carver made sure her bed was never cold.
Adara walked to the main hall—she would never be comfortable calling it a throne room, not as long as she was sitting in it—with Seneschal Garevel at her side to brief her on their upcoming meetings. "Bann Casamir is here to—"
"Maker's breath, what is he complaining about now? He got the veridium mine like he wanted." Adara looked down as they walked, watching the way the embroidery on her dress caught the light. Bright silver thread formed a griffon pattern on the dark blue skirt, and she was almost embarrassed by how much it pleased her. She enjoyed having pretty things, and pretty dresses were a perk of the job that she was happy to indulge herself in.
Garevel sighed. "Lord Reed has done something else to vex him. I'm sure we'll hear about it in unfortunately very great detail."
"Commander!" Nathaniel called.
Adara and Garevel stopped walking to allow the warden-constable to catch up. Adara hoped that whatever he had to tell her would get her out of meeting with Bann Casamir.
"It's one of Zevran's people. You're needed immediately. She won't speak to anyone but you." Nathaniel was nearly always solemn, but Adara was beginning to recognize when something was particularly concerning him. He was definitely concerned now.
"Lead on," she told him. Bann Casamir could wait.
.
.
When Nathaniel and Adara arrived, the infirmary had been cleared out save for Oliver, Carver, and Oliver's new patient: the tall Rivaini woman who had accompanied Zevran on his previous visit to the keep. Reshida, Adara recalled.
Oliver was trying to make her his patient, anyway: Reshida did not appear to be having it. "I do not have time for your healing, mage. It has waited this long, and it will wait longer," she said disdainfully in a heavy accent.
She perched on the end of an infirmary bed with one leg resting on a stool in front of her. Her lower leg was swathed in a filthy bandage, dark with dried blood and dirt. Despite her forceful words, Adara could see that the woman was exhausted, and her face was drawn with pain.
"What happened?" Adara said as she entered.
"Found her up the road," Carver said grimly from his position just inside the door. "Fell right off her horse, so I carried her back. Passed out the whole way. She only just woke up once I got her here, and she wouldn't talk to anyone but you."
"I have been riding for… I lose count of the days," Reshida said with a frown. "I did not know if I was being pursued."
"What happened? Where is Zevran?" Adara asked, trying to keep her voice even despite the dread that was twisting in her gut.
"We were in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe. Between the templar—Harrith—and the information we received from Leliana, we were able to track some of the Faithful to a villa in the forest. We were attacked."
"By the Faithful?"
Reshida nodded. "We were prepared for templars. We were not expecting mages." She hesitated. "Zevran was alive when he told me to run to you. I do not know if that is still so. I hope it is. Once they learned who he was, they wanted to capture him, not kill. But…" her voice trailed off, and the Rivaini squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.
"Can you show me on a map?" Adara asked, forcing herself to speak through her sudden nausea.
Reshida nodded.
"Then we're leaving immediately," Adara said firmly.
Several voices raised in protest.
"Adara—er, Commander, we need to be cautious," Nathaniel started. "Maybe if we—"
"No," Adara cut him off sharply. "I don't have time for letters, or for waiting, or for gathering information. If Zevran is alive now, we don't know how long he'll stay that way." She couldn't think of the alternative: that Zevran was already dead. "He was only there to help me, and I will not abandon him."
"That's exactly why they tried to snag him alive in the first place!" Carver said with growing anger in his voice. "He's bait! They want you to do something as stupid as run right into their lair. I won't—"
Adara cut him off too. "I am well aware of what they hope I'll do," she snapped. "But they aren't the only ones who are dangerous. Now I know where they are, and they will regret it." She had slit the throat of an Old God itself, and if the Faithful had forgotten that, she would remind them. "I'm done waiting." The journey to Redcliffe from Amaranthine would be long, and she hoped she could hold onto her fury that long.
From the dark look on his face, Adara didn't think they were finished discussing this, but Carver held his tongue for the time being.
"I need to know everything you've learned about them," Adara said to Reshida.
Reshida reached into an inner pocket of her vest, her hands trembling with exhaustion. "I have letters. From Leliana." She handed Adara two pieces of paper, one folded inside the other.
Adara unfolded the first letter. She couldn't help but smile to see Leliana's beautiful and familiar handwriting, though the letter's contents quickly wiped it away.
Zevran,
I have located one of the patrons of the organization you speak of, but your suspicions were correct: there is more than one. I will let you know when I find more, but I wanted you to see this without delay. The correspondents are troubling. Evrard and Astrid Comtois are the children of the former Governor Comtois… and thus the siblings of the late Isolde Guerrin. I will continue to find and disrupt the group's funding, and I ask that you continue to keep our dear Adara safe. Give her my best wishes when you see her again.
- Leliana
Adara felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her, and she struggled to draw in a deep breath as puzzle pieces began to click horribly into place. The second letter read:
Astrid,
I beg you to reconsider before it's too late for you to turn back. I have heard whispers of your Faithful all the way in Val Royeaux. I have heard all of their religious dogma, and I am afraid for you. This has grown beyond what you intended and beyond what you can control. You are the only sister I have left. Please abandon your revenge and come home.
I have enclosed the funds you requested. I pray that you consider using them to leave Redcliffe behind and return home to me.
Your devoted brother,
Evrard
Isolde's sister was the one behind the Faithful. Isolde's sister wanted her dead, and she had apparently created a whole movement to facilitate her revenge.
Adara closed her eyes and focused on breathing: in, out, in, out. Did this mean that Astrid Comtois somehow knew what had truly happened in Redcliffe Castle during the Blight? The exact circumstances of Isolde's death were not public knowledge. How could she know?
"Adara…?" Nathaniel's voice was soft and questioning.
She did not open her eyes. "Find Jowan. He'll want to know. Then have them ready the horses. I'm leaving today with whoever will go with me. Not many: I want to be able to move quickly."
Adara left without another word. There was no time to waste.
.
.
Adara did not like horses, and horses did not like her. She suspected they could sense her magic and did not care for it. After a lot of pigheadedness and time, she had gotten to a point where she was competent enough on horseback to be getting on with, and her sorrel mare (named Mary, for Adara had never been creative with names) had learned that tolerating Adara was how she earned apples and sugar cubes.
She was adjusting the length of her stirrups when she heard Carver approaching. "You can't change my mind," she said without looking at him.
"I know," he said. Oh, he was unhappy for sure. "If I can't stop you from doing something as stupid as run headfirst into a trap, then I'll go with you." She heard him begin fiddling with the stirrups and saddlebags on the largest horse they had, a dark bay with a shitty attitude.
Adara went to him and put a hand on his arm, meeting his eyes when he looked down at her. "You would make the same choice if you were me," she said.
He grunted. "Not the point." He still wasn't happy, but he wrapped one arm around her and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I just want you safe is all."
"I'm not in the right line of work for safety, unfortunately," she said, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly.
"I know," Carver said quietly.
Adara wanted to linger in his arms for just a moment longer, but they were joined in the stable by the rest of their party: Jowan and Nathaniel.
Soon they were ready, and they left Vigil's Keep in a thunderstorm of hoofbeats.
