She threw the barman's towel over her own shoulder. It smelled like several species of mold. Ugh, it probably leaves the place dirtier than if he just let it lie. She drew pints for the handful of barflies and a few other patrons who wandered in at the end of their shifts. Most of them probably didn't even realize it was a different elf behind the bar. In fact, not even the absolute last guardsman Ten wanted to see walked through the doors and bellied up the bars saw her at first. What is a lieutenant doing escorting an ill tempered barkeep ten minutes down the road? This was beneath him when he was a sergeant. What on earth is going on in this city?
She turned her back quickly to fetch a glass from the shelf behind her, "What can I do for you, guardsman?" she called.
"It's Lieutenant. And you're not Nath. I'm here to get Natharian Lin back to the Alienage before curfew. He hasn't absconded, has he?"
"He'll be back in a moment," she said, turning.
Anton Villais all but jumped out of his barstool, sending it clattering to the ground. A few of the patrons looked up, but turned quickly back to their drinks, not wanting to draw the eyes of the law to them. "Arlessa… Teneira… Miss Tabris," Villais stammered, "You're… I lit a candle in the Chantry for you after the news came out of Ostagar. How… how are you here?"
"Despite His best efforts, the Maker has yet to get His hands on me," said Ten, "How are you, Lieutenant?" She leaned down on the bar, putting her chin in her hand.
"Well fucking gobsmacked to begin with," he said. He drew closer to the bar and spoke quietly, his face closer to hers than was truly necessary, "You know there's a king's ransom on your head, right?"
"Turn me in again, they'll make you captain," Ten said.
Anton looked to his left and right, determining the only one who had half a chance of hearing him was Alistair, who was doing a very good job of acting catatonically drunk, staring silently into an empty glass. Anton leaned in even closer, "If I turn you in again, they'll begin to suspect something."
"And we can't have that, can we, after all, you being such a fine, upstanding officer of the law."
"Ten… I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," she said, "Nath comes back, you take him home, you forget I was here."
"Doubt I could do that," he sighed. He picked the barstool up from the ground and seated himself again.
She leaned over herself, "Kennit Maycomb said my people are getting blamed for the assassination of the Arl. Do you know who did it?"
"I see a few brushes with death have not changed your nature," Anton sighed. He looked around again, "We can't talk about this here. My shift ends at midnight. You know where I live, apparently, though I'm not sure how you figured that one out."
"I have my ways," she said.
"Ten, it's… I can hardly believe you're here." On the bar, his hand found hers.
"Ah, Lieutenant!" Nath's voice came from the stairs.
Ten turned quickly and pretended to be rearranging the pint glasses on the shelf while Anton snapped up straight and put his arms by his sides.
"My apologies for my tardiness. I see you know our Teneira." He paused, narrowed his eyes at them, "I trust not better than you ought to."
"Watch yourself, Lin," Anton said gruffly, standing, "There's a reason I've come for you myself."
"Yes, it's because those new coppers you brought on are lushes and the last time you sent one of them we wound up carousing until the wee hours of the morning."
"Just be grateful you're able to keep your job after the last stunt you pulled," said Anton, "You're a little old for graffiti, after all, and it's not exactly a critical function you serve. Come on. I passed Missus Bantree on the way in, she'll be here any moment."
As if on cue, the door banged open, and Edwina Bantree, a stout, matronly human somewhere in middle age walked in. "Everyone untwist your knickers, I have arrived," she declared. She had a stiff Highever accent and a habit of talking just that little bit too loud, no doubt her own hearing not being what it once was, "I was waylaid by the most curious sight of my life."
Anton sighed, "What was it?"
"Not four blocks from here, a nun climbed out a third story window and took off across the rooftops!" she said.
"Are you sure you haven't been hitting the bottle yourself, Missus Bantree?" asked Nath.
"I swear on my grandson's head," Edwina declared.
"Well, if I see any nuns on rooftops I'll be sure to alert the proper precinct. Come on, let's go, Lin," Anton said.
"I'm coming," Nath said, "Ten, get out from behind the bar before Bantree paddles you."
Not needing to be told twice, and knowing the evening barkeep's penchant for corporally punishing unruly drunks, Ten ducked under and put herself on the proper side of the bar.
"Why, is that Miss Teneira?" Edwina said. Slowly, she crouched to duck under the bar and waddled to her post, "Sure and I thought you were dead. Lit a candle in the Chantry for you I did. First one's on the house if you're drinking, dearie."
"Won't say no to that," Ten said, "I'll see you around, Nath."
"Don't burn the place down."
Ten seated herself back down where she had been.
"Why'd that guard all but throw himself into your arms?" Alistair asked as soon as the door had shut behind the barkeep and the guardsman.
"Well first of all he thought I was dead," Ten said.
"And you're a notorious felon, why would that have been a problem for him?"
"You'll have to ask him that," she said, shrugging, and changed the subject, "So if what Missus Bantree said is true, maybe we ought to check and make sure Lelianna hasn't gotten herself detained."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Alistair said, "After all, can't you just sidle up to that lieutenant, bat your eyes and get them out? Show a little leg for good measure?"
"Is this making you feel better?" she asked.
"Actually yes."
"Fine. You get one more free. Then I start hitting back."
"Well now I'm on the spot. I'll never be able to come up with a good one. I'll think of an absolute zinger at three in the morning."
"Remind me not to be around when you do."
"Oh I doubt you will, you won't even be halfway through the barracks by then."
Ten burst out laughing, "You are so lucky I feel bad for you right now. Need I remind you that the things I know about you, I could cut you so deep you would reconsider waking up in the morning."
"You did warn me not to get in the gutter with you."
"You're getting far too comfortable down here. Whatever would your father think?"
"All right, all right," he said, "You win. After all, apparently you've got half the force willing to do anything to get a peek down your shirt, I should watch myself before I get jumped in an alleyway and wind up in the city jail."
Before she could react, the door flung upon with a sharp crack and, in the light of the streetlamp, a redfaced Lelianna bustled in, Zevran on her heels and likewise out of breath.
"I told you!" Edwina exclaimed, "Nobody ever believes me. Young lady, did you or did you not run across three blocks worth of rooftops?"
Lelianna froze. She blinked twice.
"Of course she didn't. In those robes? Don't be ridiculous," Teneira said, "Anyway, the good sister is a friend of mine. Of all the bars, funny you should find your way to this one."
"It looked discreet," Lelianna said, hitching up her robe and sitting beside Ten.
"You two are terrible burglars," said Ten, low enough that Edwina could not hear.
"Already with the slander," Zev said, seating himself on the other side of Alistair.
"Oh, Teneira, you've fallen in with ruffians already!" Edwina said in mock consternation, "Whatever shall we do with you?"
"I'm afraid I'm incorrigible," said Ten, "So, what did we find when we were not very loudly and publicly breaking into a flat?"
"Well the good news is we know where our scholar went," said Zev.
"And the bad news?"
"It's in the most infernal part of the Frostbacks," said Lelianna, "Meaning we're going to have to make pretty good time if we're going to be in and out before the snow comes."
"And that's only if there's nothing nasty waiting for us when we get there," said Alistair.
"Why do you smell like a distillery?" asked Zev, making a face, "The rest of us do the hard part and here you are, sitting here sucking down whiskey like a…"
"Let him be, he's had a day," Ten said, "And… why do you have blood on you?"
"Well…" Lelianna said, "You know as well or better than I do that there is never no bloodshed."
"Who did you kill?" Ten sighed.
"There… was an assistant," said Zev, "But I'm fairly sure he was an impostor."
"So you killed him," Ten said.
"Are you not the same woman who cut off my friend's hand and sent it to a noble you don't like?" Zev asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Yes, but that was on the road, this is the city! This is a society! There are rules!" Ten exclaimed. She got up, slapping her hands on the bar, "Fuck. All right. I can salvage this. I need to go have a chat with someone before the local color gets wind of this."
"Whatever does that mean?" asked Lelianna.
"This is not my turf," said Ten, "And I just vicariously dropped a body in it, and so if we want to continue to enjoy free movement in this city, I have to go… parlay with the appropriate authorities. You three, sit here as long as you'd like, but I would appreciate it if you did not go anywhere else except back to camp."
"Why Ten," Zev said, "All this talk of turf and parlay - I have suspected there is more to you than one would first think and you are not doing a very good job of… disabusing me of this notion."
"Right?" Alistair said, "The minute she walked through the gates she started talking like a crime boss out of a bad mystery novel. Flirting with guardsmen too, it is quite unnerving."
"Oh Teneira, no need to go to bed with a guardsman on our account," Lelianna said.
"That's cute, that you think 'authorities' means the law," said Ten.
"She's doing it again," Zev said, "Come on, cough it up, manita, what great secret are you harboring? You really must put me out of my misery here."
"Well," said Ten, "If that's what you truly believe, perhaps all three of you ought to be a bit nicer to me before I have my goons come and take a finger from each of you! But in all honesty, please don't get into any more trouble. Missus Bantree, make sure they behave."
"Oh I will," Edwina assured her, taking the broad hickory paddle she kept hanging behind the bar and slapping it once on her meaty thigh for emphasis, "It was good to see you, dearie. I promise to keep your little friends safe."
It was barely after sunset, but the twilight in the north did not linger as it did down in the Wilds. The lamplighters had come around, thankfully, as Ten bustled through the Antivan quarter, keeping her eyes on the road ahead of her. Down a hill. Up a hill. Left. Right. Up another hill. Then to the gate of a vast estate built up against the wall that separated the really fine quarter behind them, where most of the provincial aristocracy kept their estates, from the grande bourgeoisie on the near side. The house itself was not even visible from the street, but she knew the wall and the gate. She reached up and pulled the bell.
It took a few moments, but the gate swung open.
"Ten!" exclaimed the footman who had answered it, "I heard you were in town."
"Hello to you too, Tirin. I just got here this morning," said Ten, "How'd you hear already?"
"Oh you know how rumors fly," he said, "Glad to see you haven't found the wrong end of a noose."
"Not for lack of trying," she said, "Is your boss at home?"
"He is indeed, up on the veranda there."
Ten strained her eyes in the half light to see that, indeed, the slight, mustachioed master of the house was sitting on his porch, smoking a luminous hookah. He raised one gloved hand in greeting and beckoned. She waved back.
Tirin Iovanis, a lifelong denizen of the alienage who must have taken up staying in his boss's servant's quarters during the lockdown, lead her through the courtyard, which never failed to impress her no matter how many times she walked under the quiet green canopy of grapevines, to the veranda, which was constructed to resemble a cloister. It was an odd sanctuary in the middle of the lights and loud music of the quarter, situated up enough of a hill that she could see over the wall to the rooftops splayed out below.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Arlessa?" asked the master of the house. In the lamplight, his face looked gaunter than it did normally. He was wearing gloves with the last two fingers of each hand stuffed to make it appear as though he was not missing the right and little finger of each - a defect which had given him his moniker, his bare hands resembling the claws of a crab. She found it strange that he kept up with this vanity in his own home, but far be it from her to judge.
"I've come with an apology, Don Cangrejo," she said, "Two of my people have made a bit of a mess in your district. I didn't realize that that was what they were going to do, and I figured you ought to hear it from me first."
Don Cangrejo's face darkened, "What sort of mess are you talking about?"
"It was supposed to be an informational excursion," she said, "But it turned violent, or so I hear. There will be a body in one of the flats in this district. Whether you decide to find it first or the guard does matters little to me, but I felt it was good manners to let you have that decision, in case some of your people need to conjure an alibi."
"Does it have to do with the nun who was cavorting across my rooftops earlier today?"
"Ah, so you heard about that," she said, "Well, yes. The same."
"You are going to have to explain to me how you have come to be keeping company with a burgling nun… and a Crow, if the young man with her did not deceive my eyes."
"He's not a Crow anymore," said Ten.
"Ah, so he is a dead man walking," said Don Cangrejo, "I won't worry about it, in that case. You know, a few weeks back, the Teyrn sent a servant here to see if I would connect them with someone who might take you out on the road out there."
"I thought he might have done that," she said.
"You will be pleased to know I refused," he said, "And so he decided to go abroad. I have, inadvertently, invited that repugnant order into my city. And all for your benefit!"
"And for that I am grateful," said Ten, "Though, be honest with me, do you truly believe any of your regulars would have made an attempt on me?"
"No I suppose they would not have," he said.
"And where, if you remember, did the last Crows who came after you wind up?"
"Drugged and chained to the bottom of a dock at low tide," he admitted.
"And, as I recall, I invited you to come sit by the river with me so you could watch them come out of their stupor just in time to realize that the water was rising. You brought a lovely tempranillo. I thought it was a pleasant evening."
"You know I always had a certain affection for you, mijita."
"And I you. As to the little problem in your territory, it concerns a monk who had let a flat a few blocks over. He had some research that an… associate of mine needed to get his hands on," she said, "I, of course, thought it would be a simple burglary, go in the window, leave with the notes. But there was someone waiting for them."
"Was it that building with the green shutters?" asked Don Cangrejo, "There has been some strange business going on in there. Men dressed as priestesses. At first I thought it was some kind of… niche erotic hobby, but then the chanting started."
"The chanting!"
"Yes. I sent Carmela over there one night to see what was going on. She came back saying it was some kind of… parody of the actual Chant. Like it had some of the features, but it was different, and it was being recited by a man. Now, I am not overly religious myself, but something about that rubbed me the wrong way. A man. Reciting the Chant. I was honestly surprised the Maker did not strike them down where they stood. So, all this to say, Arlessa, are you sure your monk is, in fact, a monk?"
"Fairly sure," said Ten, "He was on the payroll of a provincial noble that I have an interest in. I don't think he could have fooled the entire household. I just wanted you to hear it from me."
"And, in doing so, remind me that despite your erstwhile absence from town, you are very much alive, and very much able to defend your own territory, yes?"
"Oh that too," she said, smiling.
"And you came to me because you knew I would pass it on to the others."
"We always did understand each other so well."
"So tell me, Arlessa, what do you think of the state of things?" He took a long drag on the hookah and offered a second hose to her, which she took.
"It never much mattered to us who was on the throne, no?" Ten said. She breathed in a scented smoke and felt something inside her relax for the first time in weeks.
"No," he said, "Orlesian, Fereldan, king, governor, viceroy… it has never mattered to us. And yet…"
"And yet what?"
"I do not like this Teyrn Loghain," he said, "Nor do I trust his motives."
"Why not?"
"What sort of man declares himself regent for a grown woman? And where is the queen in all this?"
"I didn't realize that she had been so conspicuously absent."
"And this lockdown in your territory," he said, "Normally we would all know what is going on in the palace because your people would tell you and you would pass it on… for a reasonable price. But those who work at the palace, stay at the palace, and when they come home, your cousin has called them… curiously tightlipped. Do you think he is holding out on me?"
"Soris? Absolutely not," said Ten, "His favorite thing is being of use, and he admires you greatly. If he knew something, and you asked, he would cough it up. I haven't been able to get into the Alienage to speak with them. What do you know about the local government?"
"I do not believe for one second that your people were behind Arl Urien's assassination, if that is what you're asking," said Don Cangrejo, "As odious as he was, his death seems… convenient. If indeed, this Teyrn is making a grab for power and needing something to reward his friends."
"Is that what you would have done?" asked Ten, mildly.
"No. I think it was the rash act of a man who is not used to hearing the word 'no.'"
"What about the new arl?"
"I do not have an impression of him yet. He only just arrived from the provinces last week."
"Amaranthine is hardly provincial," said Ten.
"I am from Ciudad Antiva. To me, this whole country is provincial," he said, "Denerim has its charms, but mostly because so much of its population is from elsewhere. Now there is a question, do you elves consider yourselves Fereldan?"
"That depends on the elf," said Ten, "After all, almost all of us have one parent from elsewhere. The whole scheme of making sure the next generation isn't inbred to hell results in quite a mix."
"But you, you are Fereldan?"
"My father is Tevinter via the Free Marches," she said, "My mother's father was from Rivain. My mother's mother was Dalish, so I suppose one could say that she was Fereldan, but not in the way most of the folk of this land think of it. I suppose I am Fereldan in that I was born here and have never lived anywhere else, but that is the extent of my identification with this land."
"If Ferelden were to find itself at war with Orlais again," he said, "Which side would you be on?"
"Whichever has a knife at my throat at any given moment."
"Interesting," he said.
"But speaking of Orlais, I have an appointment at midnight in the Orlesian quarter that I hope will prove enlightening," she said, "At least as to the fate of Arl Urien. If I learn anything of import, I will pass it on."
"An appointment at midnight," said the Don, cracking a smile, "Well isn't that thrilling. But if it is clear on the other side of town, you probably ought to start walking."
"Yes, I suppose so. I appreciate your hospitality, as always."
"And I appreciate you stopping by, Arlessa. I hope the next time we meet a few more things will be clear, and we may act accordingly. A throne so empty is, after all, an opportunity few of us will live to see a second time."
"And again, I see we understand each other very well. Goodbye, Gonzago, I will let you know when I'm in town again."
"May the Maker smile upon you, Teneira. And not in a cheeky way."
