Twenty

Rural Carastes, 9:23 Dragon

Cassius shivered again and scooted closer to the fire, such as it was.

The flames sputtered weakly as the wind whipped outside and blew down the chimney, filling their one-room home with more cold air. It was the third day in a row that there had been frost on the ground outside in the morning and Cassius kept looking at the heavy gray clouds in the sky waiting to see if it might actually snow today. His mother had told him about snow but he had never seen it himself. It sounded amazing and he couldn't wait.

Momma didn't seem nearly as excited by the possibility of snow as he was. When he had woken up and saw the frost on the ground, he had bounced around the house asking all kinds of questions about snow and asking if he could go play outside. After she had told him no and after he had continued to ask over and over and whine and stomp his feet when she continued to say no, she had finally lost her temper and yelled at him and raised her hand threateningly.

He had crossed his arms and stomped off to the other side of the house and planted himself on the ground by the fire with his collection of rocks.

Momma kept looking outside. Poppa had woken up and left sometime earlier in the morning before he had woken up. When Cassius asked where he went, Momma said he had to take one of the goats into town. When Cassius asked what was wrong with the goat, his mother had shooed him away.

She was cranky. Cassius was bored. He moved his rocks around on the floor, lining them up, arranging them from biggest to smallest, then smoothest to roughest, then smallest to biggest, then roundest to flattest, then he tried to stack the flat ones, then he separated them into two teams and pretended they were soldiers fighting each other, flipping the rocks over when they were killed in battle.

These rocks were his favorites, the ones he found while walking around the farm fields or down by the creek. When he found a good one, he'd pick it up and put it in his pocket and bring it home and add it to the others. This summer, when they had a lot of rain and the creek flooded, it had washed all kinds of new stones to their section of the small, shallow waterway. There were a lot of small pebbles and all kinds of sticks and weeds and other junk, but as he stomped through the cold, clear water, he had stumbled across several really smooth, really shiny rocks. They had become his new favorites, and he often cuddled with them when he went to bed, running his fingers over the soft, smooth surfaces with his thumb until he fell asleep.

He was hungry. Momma hadn't given him anything to eat when he woke up and the big black pot wasn't over the fire today. When it was cold, Momma usually put the big pot on the fire, filled with water, and then she chopped all kind of things and put them in. She'd leave it there all day and stir it with the big wooden spoon every now and then. His tummy grumbled again, but Momma was so cranky, he just tried to ignore it as he rearranged his rocks on the dirt floor.

Cassius wanted to go outside. He wanted to go to the woods and find some leaves and take them to the creek and drop them in and watch them float away like ships. He could wear his good socks and put on an extra shirt. He could promise Momma that he would come inside when he got cold. He thought about asking, then looked up and saw his mother staring out the window and decided not to.

Today was boring. He rubbed his hands together again and scooted a little closer to the weak fire. If he got any closer, he was likely to burn himself, but the little orange flames didn't seem like they were working today. Usually the fire was hot, but today he didn't even seem to notice it.

Cassius' head perked up as his mother stood up from the chair suddenly and walked over to the door, waiting just inside it. A few moments later the handle turned and it opened and his father stepped in, slamming the door behind him as he took over his hat and his heavy coat. He rubbed his hands together and put them over his face and breathed into them, trying to warm himself up.

"What happened?" Momma asked.

His father shook his head. "They had to put it down."

"What about the meat?" Momma asked.

His father shook his head again, biting his thumb and shaking his hand, trying to shake some feeling back into it. He didn't say anything.

"What happened?" his mother asked between her teeth, impatient.

"The damn thing was diseased!" his father yelled and his mother startled backward. "Diseased! Rotten! No good! Do you understand?"

"What are we supposed to eat?" she hissed back at him, even as her arms covered her body defensively, unsure if he might hit her.

His father glanced over toward the fireplace and saw Cassius there on the floor with his rocks. Cassius turned his head away and rearranged his stones, pretending that he wasn't listening. After a couple seconds, he glanced back at his parents and saw his father's body had untensed.

"I don't know," he said quietly, but not quietly enough for their tiny shack.

"What about the –" he mother started before his father interrupted.

"No."

"If we don't–" she tried to argue again, but his father cut her off again.

"She's my last good breeding doe," his father said. "If I take her to market, that's it, we don't have any more next year."

Momma pulled Poppa into the corner of the room and they lowered their voices so Cassius couldn't hear. They were going back and forth, hands shaking and pointing at each other. They had their angry faces on. His father ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. His mother stomped her foot. His father threw his hands up and grabbed his coat and went back to the door, opening it and letting in a blast of cold wind before he closed it hard and was gone.

Momma turned toward the corner, with her back to Cassius and put her arms to her face. He thought he heard her sniffling. He shivered again as another long, cold finger of wind snaked down the chimney. His tummy rumbled again.

"Momma, are you crying?" he asked.

Her nose snorted and she shook her head but didn't turn around.

"No, Cassius," she said, although he swore it sounded like she was crying.

He stacked his rocks. "Where did Poppa go?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm cold," he complained.

"I know," his mother answered. She sniffled again. "Do you want to go outside and look for some sticks and wood for the fire?"

"Yeah!" he said excitedly, jumping up from his rocks. He rushed across the room and wrapped his arms around his mother's legs and squeezed. "Thank you, Momma. I promise I'll come inside if I get too cold."

"I know you will," she said as she wiped her eyes with the side of her hand.

He gave her another squeeze and ran to go get his coat.


Minrathous, 9:42 Dragon

The shouting inside had grown louder, now nearly audible through the closed, heavy door.

Magister Porenni had called Magister Arrentius and the other senior members of the Decade still in the city into his chambers. When Cassius had gone to follow his master inside, the dour old magister had put his arm across the doorway to block the entrance and told him he was not welcome. Flavius had objected. Porenni's response was harsh and nasty. Flavius had warned him about his tone. That drew another snap from Porenni, who then slammed the door in Cassius' face, leaving him standing out in the hall.

The yelling had started about then and hadn't stopped since. It had oscillated in volume up and down, the magisters within getting in and out of fierce arguments. Cassius could occasionally hear someone slam a fist on the table. Sometimes the voices grew louder as whoever was shouting walked away from the table and came closer to the door.

It sounded mostly like Magister Porenni and Magister Arrentius going back and forth at each other. Sometimes he'd hear a higher voice, no doubt Magister Ceratori piping in with some snide remark, as that was about all she was good for as she paid lip service to the Venatori and not much more. Cassius couldn't be sure if he had heard the meeker Magister Aurelian at all, but he had heard Magister Vespasian pipe in occasionally. He imagined Lysander's father spoke in defense of Flavius, but he couldn't be sure.

Cassius continued to stand vigil by the door, waiting for the meeting to end.

When the senate had dismissed for the day, Valerie had approached her father with her head hung low and her hands clasped behind her back. She wasn't crying, but she might as well have been, as she approached her father totally defeated. Even before she began to start apologizing profusely for what happened, Flavius had collected her in her arms, pulled her close and reassured her that it wasn't her fault and there was nothing else that she could have done.

Magister Vespasian had come later to commiserate, receiving a hearty handshake from Flavius and a promise that they would sit down for dinner later tonight, just the two of them, as they had much to discuss.

Flavius kept scanning the hall to see if he could find Magister Tilani, no doubt to confront her, but she never showed. She must have taken a different passage out of the chamber, slinking back to her lair to continue her scheming. Flavius was fuming as he scanned the crowd until it thinned down and he resigned himself to the fact that she wasn't going to show.

Porenni had summoned the Decade shortly after, demanding all of the magisters – not their children and retainers – attend as they planned their next step. They had gone into Porenni's chamber, eschewing the Danarius penthouse where they had previously met – likely due to Porenni's growing paranoia about leaks in their operation – closed the door and been shouting ever since.

Junia and Andria had taken Valerie with them in an effort to cheer her up. Cassius wasn't sure exactly where they had gotten off to, but she was in good hands with her mother, her younger sister and her niece. Cassius hoped she wasn't letting it get to her too badly. In the end, they had all overlooked the fact that she was serving only by proxy and the weaknesses that presented. Had some other magister authored the bill, anyone, it might have been able to be saved.

When the chamber had dismissed, Cassius had excused himself from Magister Arrentius and his family briefly to jog down to the floor and review the roll call vote for the measure. As he scanned the names, cross-referencing them in his head against their known allegiances, what he found was that Magister Tilani had pulled a successful coup. Not only did she convince her caucus of liberals to support her amendment, she had somehow successfully hijacked many of the rural interior lords to her side. With no coastal lands, the interior magisters didn't benefit from increased revenue from sea trade, so Magister Vespasian had promised them a trade of their support for other farming and slave measures that would benefit them. Whatever Magister Tilani had promised them, however, was obviously worth more to get them to flop on their previous commitment.

What was left on the supporting side was a roster of Venatori sympathizers and coastal magisters, although even a few of them had flipped too, apparently valuing increased investment in naval protection to be worth more than whatever additional revenue might flow their way from port fees.

The entire string of events left Cassius feeling unsettled, and the hour of yelling taking place behind the door wasn't helping.

"Still at each other's throats?"

Cassius looked up from his feet toward the approaching voice, spotting Plinius Paverii coming down the hall toward him. He was dressed almost entirely in black, the empty right sleeve of his long robe dangling loosely, while a heavy hood and a dark patch shadowed the disfigured side of his face. He wore a small casting rod at his right hip as if it were a sword, able to be drawn from his side with his only arm if the need struck.

"Yes," Cassius said as he leaned back against the wall outside the door again, not really wanting to elaborate more on what he had and hadn't heard since.

Plinius took up a spot next to him, crossed his arms, lowered his head and listened. After a minute, he shook his head.

"That sound you're hearing," Plinius said. "It's the elegy of the Venatori movement. Angry and discordant, and unwilling to accept that they're finished."

"Why do you say things like that?" Cassius said more sharply than he might have otherwise if he hadn't watched Magister Arrentius' ambitions crumble before his eyes just hours before. "Your family is part of this too, same as mine."

Plin didn't rise to the bait. "Because it's true," he said simply. "I'll assume you haven't heard about Orlais."

"What happened in Orlais?" Cassius asked, because as Plin suggested, he hadn't heard any news.

"The civil war is over," Plin informed him. "Grand Duke Gaspard is dead and Empress Celene has retained the throne, with the aid of the Inquisition. Under threat of losing their own heads, the Grand Duke's allies have capitulated and surrendered. Worse, Inquisitor Trevelyan discovered that Grand Duchess Florianne, Gaspard's sister, was working under the direction of the Venatori. This knowledge has now galvanized the Orlesian nobility and unified them against Tevinter in the wake of the attempt on Celene's life and her victory."

Plinius tilted his head back against the wall and snorted. "Orlais bled, true, but if anything, Florianne's failure has given them a renewed resolve they previously lacked. Any further incursion into the south is now sure to be met with fervent aggression."

Cassius understood well enough. Within Tevinter, the magisters were content to fight and squabble and jockey among one another for power, wealth and influence. But nothing unified them more than the threat of Qunari. Wherever the neverending war against the Qun began to swing poorly, the magisters often set aside their infighting and unified against the exterior threat. Their hatred of the Qunari trumped all other concerns. To some extent, they had seen that very sentiment in action today, as the senate banded together to sink Magister Arrentius' bill as surely as a booming artillery broadside from a Qunari dreadnought.

Fereldan was lost. The Grey Wardens had been lost. Orlais, as a whole, was now lost.

"Where is the Elder One?" Cassius asked.

"No one knows," Plinius said. "Certainly not here. He claims to be a god and he better hope he is, because nothing short of divine intervention is going to salvage the mess they've created."

His nonchalant attitude was beginning to grate Cassius, but before he could snap at his peer again, Plinius was already on to other matters.

"I didn't come here to mourn, though," Plinius said. "I've made the proper arrangements. Our idiot friend Zife the Knife has been prepared. If we are going to make a move to clear our names, now is the time."

Cassius allowed his sarcasm to get the better of him. "If the Venatori is supposedly finished, what's the point?"

Plinius snorted with some amusement at that. "For spite then."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden quiet from within and the sound of locks being drawn on the door. A moment later, it cracked open, followed by the figure of the slight Magister Aurelian quickly vacating the premises, walking as quickly away as his thin legs would take him.

"When?" Cassius asked.

"We can proceed tonight," Plinius said. "After that, it's up to our mole to take the bait. Could be a day, could be longer, could be never."

"Only one way to find out," Cassius said as he watched the other magisters leaving – Magister Ceratori, Magister Acra who was pushed out in a wheeled chair, asleep, by his elven slave and Magister Terititus. Then came Magister Paverii, a tall and stalwart man with carefully combed gray hair and a precisely cut beard. He turned his head and spotted his son waiting against the wall, then turned and walked away in the opposite direction without saying a word.

Cassius turned to look at Plin, who was watching his father walk away with his one and only eye peering out from under his hood. He pushed his body off the wall. "I'll make the arrangements," he said, still watching his father walking away. "And be in touch." Then he turned and exited the other way down the hall, opposite his father.

As Plin left, Flavius stuck his head outside of the door and waved Cassius in. He looked exhausted, no doubt from a fierce hour of arguing with his peers. As Cassius stepped inside, Flavius closed the door behind them.

Magister Porenni was still sitting at the head of the table, his thin gray hair looking like rotted, dirty straw coming down either side of his head. His face was stuck in its usual resting scowl as he pushed aside a stack of papers.

"Don't sit," Porenni said as Cassius' hand touched the back of one of the chairs. "This won't take long."

He could hear Flavius bristle behind him, but his lord said nothing.

"I want you out of Minrathous," Porenni said, without wasting a single word.

"Magister Porenni," Cassius said, taken aback. He turned and looked at Flavius, who offered no sign that he was going to jump in. "I don't understand. Why?"

"Your involvement has jeopardized our mission," Porenni accused, again sparing nothing. "You are betraying our cause to the enemy."

"You don't have any proof of that," Flavius interjected now, stepping forward to stand at Cassius' side.

"The proof is everywhere, Flavius," Porenni bit. "Hired mercenaries assassinated. Shipments stolen. Inquisition spies in Tevinter knowing exactly where our resources are and where they are heading. They are all connected to your Praeteri."

"Magister Porenni," Cassius defended, standing up straight and proud as he shielded himself with his own honor and integrity. "I would never betray Magister Arrentius."

"Denial," Porenni huffed, shaking his head. "I should have you arrested, but Flavius convinced me to let you tuck your tail and skulk home like the dog you are."

"Julius," Flavius growled, obviously growing increasingly inpatient with his colleague's disrespect.

"I have not betrayed a single piece of information!" Cassius said. "I am not some bumbling servant. I have served in these halls for years and I am fully aware of how to maintain proper discretion and confidentiality."

"Watch your tone with me, Prateri," Porenni snarled. "The leaks all point to you. If it's not you, pray, tell me, who is responsible?"

Cassius swallowed and backed down. "I don't know," Cassius acknowledged. "But I am making progress in finding out who. I have–"

"I don't care," Porenni interrupted. "Our plans in Nevarra are fully in motion now. It's too late for anyone to stop them. But the fact remains. I want you gone. You Praeteri are hardly better than the ungifted mongrels."

"That's enough," Flavius interjected again, his tone hard and grim as his eyes narrowed.

"Be gone," Porenni said with a brush of his hand as he pushed back from the table and began to stand. "Both of you. I must salvage this wreck you fools have left me."

Flavius tugged Cassius' robe and pulled him out of the room, into the hallway. As they left, he slammed the door as hard as he could to register his displeasure with his fellow magister and then turned and spat on the closed door, making a rude gesture at the dour old magister tucked on the other side of it.

"It will be a day to celebrate when that old bastard is dead," Flavius said, his rage hot upon his face. His neck jiggled as he was nearly vibrating with fury.

"My lord, you know I would never–"

"I know," Flavius said, placing a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "Your loyalty is above reproach, my son. My trust in you is absolute."

Cassius lowered his head, ashamed at such high praise. He thought of his secret meeting with Maevaris, of the parcel of documents she had left for him, of what he had seen when he read those papers, and that he held the entire ordeal as a secret locked in the pit of his stomach. He had been staying in the Danarius penthouse under the blessing of Albi Danarius, who was a self-admitted ally to Magister Tilani.

He hadn't done anything untoward and he had fulfilled his duties and responsibilities to the Venatori as ordered, but the fact that he had close interactions with the enemy and continued to keep it secret from his lord gnawed at his stomach.

Flavius had given him everything. He had given him a purpose. He had given him a home. He had given him a family. He had given him a wife and a child. He enjoyed a luxury that few others with such a neophyte bloodline as his ever would.

And now, when the Venatori had finally risen to make their move, he had disappointed his lord at every turn. He had marched to war in Ferelden and been captured. He come to Minrathous to aid the Decade and become the apparent center of a leak that he couldn't identify. He had been tasked with aiding Valerie as she sat her father's seat in the Magisterium and he had failed to foresee the fatal flaw in their plan. What had he returned to Flavius, for all of his goodwill?

"I'm sorry, my lord," Cassius apologized, partly for the misfortune they had suffered that wasn't his fault and partly for the secrets he continued to hold in his breast.. "I have failed you."

Flavius clapped his hand on Cassius' shoulder again and shook his head. "Go see your wife. I'll stay and finish matters here. Tomorrow, take the women home."

Flavius sighed heavily.

"But first, there's one other matter I need you to attend to."