Chapter 18: Strange Bedfellows - Trust

The elf was a little more talkative the next day. Perhaps inquisitive was a better word considering the barrage of questions he asked since they started on the road. “Am I the only recruit you have?”

“No,” Duncan replied. “There are two others who will be at Ostagar by the time we arrive. Jory and Daveth.” Waking up twice from a combination of cold and taint induced nightmares, Duncan had added an extra layer of socks as well as his bedroll to the inn’s meager blankets but still woke up frozen numb. The elf, by all appearances, was in no better condition. He’d been curled in a ball, shivering, when Duncan woke him. A simple breakfast huddled in front of the main room’s fire had helped take the edge off, but Duncan couldn’t seem to shake stiff muscles.

“How did you recruit them?”

“Jory was in a tournament in Highever. He is skilled with two-handed weapons. Quite eager to join.” Duncan wasn’t about to tell Raviathan his misgivings. Though Jory had shown skill, Duncan feared his desire to join stemmed from a belief that the Grey Wardens were simply a heroic order of knights. Duncan had seen that often, men who joined out of a sense of pride but who did not comprehend the enormity of the sacrifice being one of the Grey demanded. While that was not a prerequisite, it could lead to disillusionment later. It had with Genevieve, the woman who had recruited him. But with a blight on the way, Duncan felt he had no excuse for excluding the man. “Daveth was a street thief.”

The elf seemed to take the news of a street thief in stride. “So Jory was recruited before Howe sacked Highever?” There was a tone to his voice, just the slightest undercurrent of anger, that made Duncan wonder what connections he might have to the Arl. He was surprised the elf knew about it. Most of his kind couldn’t care less about human politics, but then Howe was known to dislike elves. Maybe they only kept track of the humans most likely to cause them trouble. That hadn’t been Duncan’s experience though. Most were dismissive of any lord or the goings on of humans. Tarimel certainly was. It seemed like Raviathan would eventually be a little more open than the other elf. Tarimel, while he was a fine fighter, was more reclusive and bitter which kept him separate from his brothers. Though Raviathan certainly had just cause for some bitterness, he also seemed more open to change.

“He was the first during this recruiting session,” Duncan said. “There were two others I had my eye on, but they were off visiting another holding. I returned later to test the knight, but I’m not sure what happened to him in the chaos. The last I saw, he was defending the main hall.” They both had known how futile that had been, but it was Gilmore’s last action to save as many as he could. “My first choice was the second son of the Cousland family, Aedan, but his father was against it. Unfortunately, I think he fell that night. I only just managed to escape.”

“Howe would have attacked a Grey Warden? I thought you were neutral, above such politics.”

“Don’t ask mobs or despots for reason.” The elf conceded the point with a nod. Duncan could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he considered the issue. “I am surprised you know about Highever.”

The elf crossed his arms and looked down. He answered quietly. “Ness was from Highever. She and her family just got out before there was a purge on the alienage.”

So, thought Duncan, his wife is a sore spot after all. Duncan recalled the elf’s face as he danced with his wife, looking as if the Maker’s light shined for him alone. They had moved with the grace of an old couple who had danced those steps for decades. Duncan knew they had only been together for two months or so and was surprised to see how close they had become in that time. Adaia had been given a choice because there was no blight. If not for Vaughan, Duncan wasn’t sure he’d have been able to conscript the lad. “There were a few others I was looking for, a dwarven noble, but he died before I was able to recruit him. There was also a promising young woman in Orzammar, but she did not make it I’m afraid.”

“What happened?”

“She ran afoul of a criminal organization.”

It was amazing how many of his potential recruits had died, Raviathan thought as looked up at his new commander again. It put his own recent escapade in a new light. Maybe the stuff that makes a Grey Warden also singles them out in other ways. “If there’s a blight on, why not have more Wardens?”

“Well, first off, Grey Wardens only recruit the best.”

The elf cocked his head at him. “You would consider me the best?”

Duncan’s mellow voice, dignified with a touch of hoarseness that Raviathan liked listening to, continued, “You took out an entire estate’s worth of guards and well-trained lords. I would put that high on my list.” The elf looked forward, along the Imperial Highway, as he pondered that. Duncan kept watching him. The boy was a curious one. “There have been other complications as well. I had my eye on about ten possible recruits, you being one of them.”

The numbers seemed unreal. Out of ten, and he was the only one walking with Duncan now? How could so many have fallen? “How much did you know about me though?”

“That Adaia’s son was about of age to be recruited. I was hoping you would be your mother’s son. Seems I was proven right.”

“But you said, ‘the best’. You didn’t know anything about me.”

“I knew you were Adaia’s son. That alone was worth looking for you.”

Not satisfied with the answer, Raviathan shook his head but let the subject drop. “What about the Cousland son? You said you wanted him as well, and with the Right of Conscription, why bow to his father’s wishes? You said the blight comes over all other concerns.”

“True,” Duncan replied, “but the Right of Conscription is not without consequence. I’d rather have a family as powerful as the Couslands as an ally instead of having them cut me off from recruiting in the future. They had connections which could also cause difficulties with the other nobles.”

After a moment the elf said quietly, “That’s why you couldn’t help me directly. It’d cut you off from the other nobles who would be angry that the Grey Wardens intervened.”

“Quite right.”

“You said blights take decades if not a century to defeat. It’s better to take a long range view than what you need immediately.”

“Smart lad,” Duncan said. Just as Valendrian had said, the elf was thoughtful and reflective. Once he got past his anger, he really was quite insightful.

“How long have you known King Cailan then?”

What had been pleasure at seeing the elf’s insight turned to the beginning of alarm. Though the elf had asked the question with the same innocence as the rest, Raviathan was putting things together too quickly. “A number of years. Teyrn Loghain has been the regent for most of that time. Unfortunately, he takes a dim view of the Wardens.”

“Why is that?”

“Did you know our Order was exiled?”

The elf looked up at him with interest. “What happened?”

Thankful that the distraction had worked for the moment, Duncan started, “Not everything is known about what happened, but it started with a political coup between the Lady Sophia Dryden and her brother, Arland, for the crown about two hundred and fifty years ago. Arland took the crown, and in lieu of execution, had Sophia made a Grey Warden. You see, Grey Wardens can’t have families or titles. We inherit nothing and must relinquish any claims of property or title. But that doesn’t mean our former lives are forgotten. Sophia still maintained contacts with many of the nobles, and she was quite popular in the Order.

“When Arland turned out to be a tyrant, many of the nobles went to her for support in a rebellion. The Grey Wardens who did not agree with Sophia left Ferelden to join other factions. What was left, around two hundred Grey Wardens, were almost successful in their coup.” Raviathan’s eyes went wide as he calculated the numbers, two hundred Wardens against a kingdom. “As you know, one of the edicts of our Order is to remain neutral, and this is why. Even if the land is governed by a tyrant, we risk too much if we involve ourselves. The darkspawn are our only concern. Because of Sophia, we were exiled for more than two hundred years until King Maric allowed our Order to return. That was just some twenty years ago.”

Wind was gusting from the south, bringing a chill that penetrated through their clothes. “Why did King Maric allow us back in?”

The ‘us’ as part of the Order was not lost on Duncan. He wasn’t sure if Raviathan truly meant that or if he was playing a part until he was close enough to the Brecillian Forest that he could attempt an escape. Considering the circumstances of Raviathan’s conscription, Duncan expected more of a fight from the elf and didn’t trust this easy acceptance. “I will tell you after you are officially joined to the Order.”

Duncan could feel the elf’s eyes on him again. It wasn’t distrustful, but he could practically feel the elf’s mind at work. Again, he was impressed with the elf’s intelligence. After a few minutes, Raviathan asked, “How did you become a Grey Warden?”

The dark man did not speak at first. “That is perhaps a story best left to another time.”

Raviathan noticed the human was watching him as much as he was watching the human. If Duncan didn’t want to speak of his past, Raviathan wasn’t going to push him, but he did find Duncan interesting. There was a story, more likely many, in the human, and he was a sucker for a good story. The training he received from his mother and aunt had made him patient if nothing else. He may not hear the story now, but once he learned more about Duncan, learned his behavior and mannerisms, he’d find out. One of the other Grey Wardens might know, which would take less time. In any case, he liked listening to Duncan so switched the topic. “What can you tell me about the history of the Grey Wardens?” A thought occurred to him. “Have there been many elven Grey Wardens?”

To his pleasant surprise, Duncan went on for hours recounting the story of Garahel, the elven Warden who had ended the Fourth Blight and drove back the darkspawn.

The story of Garahel had the effect Duncan had hoped for. One, it distracted the elf from more uncomfortable topics. Though he knew Raviathan had not forgotten the questions that went unanswered, perhaps this would satisfy his curiosity enough to let the others go for a time. Two, it helped the lad see that he would be valued as an elf, that his race had just as much history and rights in the Grey Wardens. Third, Duncan hoped to impress on him the importance of the Grey Wardens and how vital they were. If the elf understood his importance in the near future, he might be less likely to run away.

The hours passed easily enough, and the two became more companionable. The imposing mountain fortress that was Dragon’s Peak was visible from miles away. Raviathan’s eyes went wide with awe as he spied the fortress like city that perched like a raptor high on the black-rock mountain. The mountain was reminiscent of an immense dragon head, from which it received its name. “Are we going to the city?”

Duncan looked up at the massive peak. “Not exactly. I’m hoping to find a vendor closer to the bottom for some basic equipment. There’s an inn I want to make before night, and ascending the peak would take out more hours from the day than I’m willing to spend.”

Raviathan was disappointed, but he got Duncan started on the Battle of Ayesleigh, and that was interesting enough.

The vendors at the base were almost a village onto themselves and catered to travelers and farmers who didn’t live in the shelter of the city. Though the Denerim Market carried much more exotic trade from various nations, this was the first time Raviathan had seen another town. A large circle of the dark grey stone of the mountain had been cut away to form a space for all the stalls. Tradetown, as it was called, was conducted at the base of the mountain, and most vendors had a second stall in the city proper for the townsfolk. The whole of Tradetown would stay in the shadow until the midday sun rose over the mountain. At the far side was the first of many gates up to the city. It was inconvenient for business, but a more defensible fortress there was not.

The elf gazed about with open curiosity but was content to follow Duncan who looked like he knew where he was going. Duncan said, “You look around like that and you’ll be the first target for thieves.”

The elf didn’t stop though, and his nose lifted to catch the scent of baking pasties from the food stalls on the right. “It’s small enough that everyone here knows who’s a regular and who’s passing through. I’m marked anyway except a poor elf like me isn’t worth the trouble for some old clothes that won’t fit anyone. I’d take that one first,” Raviathan said indicating a henpecked man who was dejectedly following a plump wife. “No weapons, has plenty of money for food, bored and careless. Besides,” he said batting his eyelashes at Duncan, “I’ve got my big, strong warrior with me.”

Duncan mouth twitched as he suppressed a grin. “No stealing.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he replied.

The first stop was a tailor with some ready made clothing for travelers who could not wait for commissioned attire. Raviathan looked at the goods absently for a bit, but when boredom got the better of him, he wandered over to a nearby paddock by the first gate to Dragon’s Peak. The unfamiliar scents of dung and hay greeted him. Raviathan was use to the garbage of a city, so the scent of animals struck him as somehow warmer than the sewage and acidic piss common in the poor sections of a city. Though Raviathan had seen a rich nobleman’s horse once, this was the first time he had ever seen donkeys. Dog and ox carts were common for transporting goods in Ferelden with only the nobility able to afford something as exotic as a horse. Horses were never used for anything but displaying wealth.