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With Josephine's and Cullen's reluctant approval of the potential alliance with the Qunari, they set out for the Storm Coast in the morning. After a day and a half of travel, they arrived at the beachfront Inquisition camp, where their horses were taken to be cared for while they made their way, following the Iron Bull's directions, to the rendezvous.

The big Qunari stood in the middle of a clearing, looking around and frowning. That in itself was a measure of his discomfort with this mission—he usually wouldn't allow himself to be seen having an expression he didn't want to show. "Our Qunari contact should be here to meet us," he said.

Just then, an elf in armor that cleverly camouflaged him amongst the rocks and trees of the Storm Coast appeared on top of a large boulder. He was smirking, clearly pleased to have snuck up on the Iron Bull. "He is. Good to see you again, Hissrad."

"Gatt!" The Iron Bull looked relieved, even happy, to see the newcomer. "Last I heard, you were still in Seheron."

There was no answering smile on Gatt's face. "They finally decided I'd calmed down enough to go out into the world."

"Boss, this is Gatt. We worked together in Seheron."

"So I gathered."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Inquisitor. Hissrad's reports say you're doing good work."

"Hissrad?" Bridget echoed.

"Under the Qun, we use titles, not names."

The Iron Bull explained, "My title was 'Hissrad' because I was assigned to secret work. You can translate it as 'keeper of illusions', or …"

"Liar," Gatt said flatly. "It means liar."

"Well, you don't have to say it like that," the Iron Bull snapped.

Bridget ignored the byplay between the two. She didn't care about their history—she cared only about stopping what was happening here and deciding if this alliance was worth committing to. "I'm only here because we both want to stop Corypheus."

"Indeed. The Tevinter Imperium is bad enough without the interference of this Venatori cult. If this new form of lyrium helps them seize power in Tevinter, the war with Qunandar coiuld get worse."

The Iron Bull nodded. "With this stuff, the Vints could make their slaves into an army of magical freaks. We could lose Seheron … and see a giant Tevinter army come marching down here."

"The Ben-Hassrath agree. That's why we're here." Gatt gestured offshore. "Our dreadnought is safely out of view, and out of range of any Venatori mages on shore. We'll need to eliminate the Venatori, then signal the dreadnought so it can come in and take out the smuggler ship."

Bridget was the first to admit she was no strategist, but this seemed like an awfully complicated plan to take out one ship and a small camp of Venatori to her. She glanced up at the Iron Bull to see if he found it as surprising as she did. "What do you think?"

"Don't know," he said, thinking out loud. "I've never liked covering a dreadnought run. Too many ways for crap to go wrong. If our scouts underestimate enemy numbers, we're dead. If we can't lock down the Venatori mages, the ship is dead."

She would have been much happier with Inquisition scouts in place, but she had tried to abide by the letter of the agreement and was now regretting it.

"It's risky," the Iron Bull concluded.

Gatt glared, and she could see the temper he had already alluded to. "Riskier than letting red lyrium into Minrathous?"

They posed some questions to Gatt, which he dealt with glibly, waving away some concerns and amplifying others.

"This is risky, yes," he finished, with a nod at the Iron Bull, "but it's our best chance to destroy the shipping operation permanently."

Bridget nodded crisply, her decision made. They would finish this mission, and depending on how it went, she would decide on the alliance. "Let's go hold up our end of the bargain, then."

"My agents suggested two possible locations the Venatori may be camped to guard the shore." He pointed to a highly exposed knoll which may have been hiding some tents among the trees, and then up the mountain near them toward a more sheltered clearing that could be dimly glimpsed about halfway up. "We'll need to split up and hit both at once." Gatt's eyes seemed fixed on the Iron Bull as he spoke.

The Iron Bull glanced at Krem. "I'll come with you, Boss, and Krem can lead the Chargers."

He went to confer with Krem, and Bridget stepped closer to Gatt. She disliked the way he continued to stand on the boulder, forcing her to crane her neck to see him. "I'm surprised to see an elf as part of the Ben-Hassrath."

Raising his eyebrows, Gatt replied, "The Ben-Hassrath usually pick elves or humans to work outside Qunandar. We're a little harder to spot. It took me a long time to accept the Qun, to get past justice to purpose. I thought about leaving when the Qun didn't tell me what I wanted to hear. Some days are still difficult."

For the first time, Bridget thought she was seeing the real Gatt, the one the Iron Bull had been so happy to see. She decided to trust him, at least partly, with her concerns. "No one's actually detailed how an alliance with the Qunari will help the Inquisition."

"The answer to that is above my rank … but the Qunari don't bargain. They don't know how. I doubt you want Qunari troops storming around your stronghold, and you're too far away for supplies to be useful. You'd get more use out of our ships, I imagine … and the agents we've got spread across Thedas. We know a lot more than what Bull sees in those reports he's been forwarding to your spymaster."

Bridget raised her eyebrows. Of course they would know. She wondered if Leliana had planned for that, and tempered her response to Bull's information accordingly. "Is Bull going to get in trouble for passing those reports on?"

Gatt shrugged. "The Ben-Hassrath aren't pleased with how forthcoming Bull has been … but he was one of their best agents. He kept the streets clean in Seheron longer than anyone before him, or after. He fought until it nearly killed him." There was real affection and respect in his face. "The Ben-Hassrath trust him enough to accept how he joined the Inquisition, even if they don't like it. Besides, they hate to discard a tool that might still have some use left in it. That's why I have a job."

From across the clearing, the Iron Bull called, "Boss, you ready?"

"Yes." She looked at Rainier, and at Cole, both of whom had hung back, keeping a wary eye around them, and they joined her and the Iron Bull with the Chargers.

The Iron Bull had his most trusted people around him and was speaking quickly and seriously as Bridget and the others joined them. "Once they're down, send up the signal. That'll let the dreadnought know it's safe to come in."

"Understood, Chief," Krem said.

"Remember, you're going to want a volley to start, but don't get suckered into fighting at range. They've got mages. Get in close, and take their enchanter down before he takes over the battlefield."

"He'll be dead before he knows it." The soft, hoarse voice belonged to Skinner, a city elf. Bridget found them frightening; cold, implacable hatred lived in their eyes, and as far as she could tell, nothing else, other than loyalty to the Chargers.

"Just … pay attention, all right? The Vints want this red lyrium shipment bad."

Krem rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. Thanks, Mother."

"Qunari don't have mothers, remember?"

"We'll be fine, Chief."

"All right, Chargers," the Iron Bull growled. "Horns up."

"Horns up!" they repeated.

"Chargers! Hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast! And when this is over, drinks are on me."

That got a cheer—subdued, so as not to be heard by the targets. Then Krem led the Chargers toward the knoll, and the rest of them followed Gatt up the mountain.

"You gave your Chargers the easier target," he observed.

"You think?"

"Lower and farther from the smugglers' ship? It's much less likely to be heavily defended."

The Iron Bull grinned sheepishly. "I suppose we'll do the heavy lifting, then. Just like old times."

Gatt dropped low, studying the underbrush ahead of them. "Be careful. My agents said to expect outliers before the main camp."

"We've all done this a few times before, Gatt."

"You've been living outside the Qun for years now, Iron Bull." The name was delivered dripping with disdain. "Just wanted to make sure your reflexes hadn't gotten as soft as the rest of you."

Before the Iron Bull could respond, the Venatori were just ahead of them. Bridget provided cover by launching a fireball into the trees. Less effective here on the Storm Coast where everything was always sodden, but it was still a distraction. The rest of them charged in, Gatt nearly recoiling when he found Cole fighting next to him.

Once the Venatori were down, Rainier and the Iron Bull started looting the bodies. Gatt, breathing hard, glared at Cole. "Hissrad says you're a demon."

"Heart hammering, brush of breath at the base of my neck. He licks his thumb before turning the page."

"What?" Gatt drew his daggers. "Who told you that?"

"He never finished," Cole said earnestly. "You don't have a demon inside you. You don't have to wonder anymore."

"Stop. Just … stop." Gatt was trembling, and Bridget put herself between them before he could decide to strike.

"Cole, knock it off," the Iron Bull ordered him. "People who follow the Qun get nervous around demons, remember?"

"Bull, how can you work with a demon?" Gatt demanded, not taking his eyes off Cole.

"He's all right."

"If you say so." But any movements toward resuming their friendship had taken a big hit, Bridget could tell.

They reached the main camp, all of them tense above and beyond any concerns about the Venatori, and made short work of it. Once they were clear, Gatt lit the beacon to signal the dreadnought.

The Iron Bull looked across at the knoll, smiling in relief. "Chargers already sent theirs up. See 'em down there?"

Bridget did see them. She also saw the contingent of Venatori, including at least two mages, approaching their position. Dread lay cold in the pit of her stomach. She should have known this would be too good to be true.

Rainier and Cole had already seen it, and were on their way back toward the knoll, but they wouldn't get there in time.

In the distraction, the dreadnought came up, easily destroying the smugglers' ship. Too easily, in Bridget's opinion.

Meanwhile, the Chargers were aware of the oncoming enemy, setting themselves for defense. Their orders had been to hold, and they would hold, if it was the last thing they did.

"Bull!" Bridget said urgently. "They can't stand against that kind of force."

"No. They can't." He had already given them up for lost. She could hear it in his voice.

"Your men need to hold that position, Hissrad."

"They do that, they're dead."

"And if they don't, the Venatori retake it and the dreadnought is dead." Gatt looked past the Iron Bull to Bridget. "You'd be throwing away an alliance between the Inquisition and the Qunari!"

"An alliance no one has ever managed to convince me was either believable or desirable," Bridget said crisply. "Bull, call the retreat."

"You do that, you declare yourself Tal-Vashoth."

It was the worst threat in Gatt's arsenal. The Iron Bull looked from him to Bridget to the Chargers, gallantly awaiting the approaching Venatori force.

"With all you've given the Inquisition, half the Ben-Hassrath thinks you've betrayed us already! I stood up for you, Hissrad. I told them you would never become Tal-Vashoth!"

So that was what this had all been about. Strip the Iron Bull of his Chargers, bring him back to the Qun, remind him of who he really was. But Bridget didn't think it was at all certain that he was that man anymore.

"They're my men," he protested.

"I know. But you need to do what's right, Hissrad." There was real pleading in Gatt's voice. This mattered to him.

The Iron Bull looked at Bridget again, and she felt for his position. She really did. But she was the Inquisitor, and her position—her duty—was clear. "Call the retreat, Bull."

"No!" Gatt cried.

Taking the horn from his side, the Iron Bull lifted it to his lips and blew the retreat. With satisfaction, Bridget watched the Chargers melt back into the trees, minutes before the first Venatori could reach their location.

Gatt nearly tore his hair out. "All these years, Hissrad, and you thow away all that you are. For what? For this? For them?"

"His name is the Iron Bull." Liar no longer described him, as far as Bridget was concerned.

Sneering, Gatt said, "I suppose it is."

He pushed between them. They stood there for a few moments, watching as the Venatori mages destroyed the dreadnought, which burst into flames and sank.

"Let's go." The Iron Bull turned to go join his Chargers, and Bridget followed.