Chapter 22: Of Humans and Shems

A bloody sunset lit the underside of rain heavy clouds, tinting them a shade of bruised purple. Raviathan’s feet ached with cold. The cart jostled back and forth, enough that he never felt stable. At least the plodding, sleepy ox pulled the cart at a placid gait. The beast may have more mass, but it didn’t have the quick, out of control power a horse did. Raviathan wanted to close his eyes, just to rest a moment, but the cart kept shaking him. He must have dozed at some point because he didn’t realize they had reached the village until the cart stopped.

“Thanks,” Raviathan said.

“Thanks to you, ser.” The human held out a hand, which Raviathan took, surprised by the gesture. “Now, I know this ain’t much...”

Raviathan waved away the pouch. “Ride was enough.”

“Nonsense, ser. I’m in a position where I’ve got no cause for accepting charity.”

Raviathan considered. He’d never taken coin for his work before. Wasn’t this exactly what he was considering before he was recruited into the Wardens? To become a paid healer, taking in humans to subsidize the work he’d do for the elves? “Thank you.”

The man nodded. “Twice a day, you said?”

“For two weeks. Should clear up by then.”

“Aye.”

Duncan appeared at the doorway. Surprised, Raviathan dropped from the cart to the ground harder than he intended. His ankle gave the barest twinge. “D-Duncan?”

The warrior’s sword was out, wrath pinned on the driver as he strode forward.

“No. No, wait,” Raviathan said, hands out on Duncan’s chest. “He didn’t do anything. Just gave me a ride back.”

Duncan spared a glance at Raviathan before returning his glare at the frightened farmer. Duncan nodded once, sheathed his sword, then put a protective arm around Raviathan’s shoulders to lead him back to the inn.

“Bath or food first?”

Considering his last meal had been breakfast, and the bath would take some preparation, Raviathan chose the meal.

“Bann Harrin’s knights are here,” Duncan said. “They have some questions for you.” At Raviathan’s pained look, Duncan explained, “So they know what happened is all. You’re a Grey Warden, Rav. Any act against a Grey Warden during a blight is treason. Ser Finnian will make his report to the bann. If you’d like, I’ll be there.”

“Yes, I’d appreciate that.”

With a squeeze on Raviathan’s shoulder, Duncan left to order their meal then returned. Ser Finnian had thin, red hair that hung to the sides of his head making his ears seem overlarge. The long lines of his face ended in a long, pointed chin. He looked completely average to Raviathan. Could be another dock worker, had the knight been in home spun rather than armor. “Is this your charge, Warden?”

“Yes,” Duncan replied. Raviathan was thrown by Finnian’s high, gentle voice. This was a knight? Two other knights, both still in the last years of their teens, came to attention. Their shields had the same split heraldry, a black tree on a gold background under a black lion against grey.

The head knight turned to Raviathan, and gave him a small, formal bow with his arms crossed over his chest. “Well met, ser. I am Finnian, knight of Bann Harrin who is under the Southron Arling. Always an honor to meet one of the Grey, though I wish this were under more pleasant circumstances.”

Raviathan blinked. How was he supposed to respond to that? Bowed to by a human? And there was that ‘ser’ again. “Um ... thanks.”

The knight straightened. If he was put out by Raviathan’s lack of etiquette, he had more grace than to show it. “Would you speak of what happened then?”

After the knight’s bow and ceremony, Raviathan felt even more ridiculous recounting the chase through the streets. Grey Warden, indeed.

“Why did they attack you?”

“Thought I was Dalish at first. I told them I was with the Grey Wardens, that they could confirm that with Duncan. They thought I was lying. The brother of an ill child I saw to this morning told them I was a healer. That’s when William took me.”

“Were you injured, ser?”

“Um, no.”

“From the witnesses I spoke with, they said you were limping.”

“I twisted my ankle when I fell off the roof, but I’m fine now.”

“Why were you taken?”

“By William? He wanted me to heal a man injured by bandits.”

“How did you escape?”

“I didn’t escape. He was going to bring me back when I finished, then he...” Raviathan felt his face grow hot. “He propositioned me. I decided it would be best if I made my own way, but I guess news that I’m a healer traveled. When a farmer saw me crossing his field, he offered to drive me here if I saw to his family.”

“You said Lord William propositioned you?”

Lord William? Maker’s ass. What was it with shem lords? Raviathan crossed his arms over his chest, his shoulders hunched. “How explicit do you need me to be? Said he was joking when the others came in.” One of the young knights looked him up and down, but the other kept his gaze steady. Raviathan glared at the one who had ogled him. Ogled. Raviathan felt dirty.

“Do you know which farmstead he took you to?”

“No idea.” Raviathan shrugged. “Near a creek. Wife of the injured man is named Molly.”

Finnian gave a thoughtful nod. “Did Molly know your position?”

“That I’m a Grey Warden recruit, or that I was kidnapped?”

The knight’s mouth quirked. “Both.”

“I didn’t tell her about either, so no? I went to work on her husband.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Who you are or your circumstances?”

“What would it change? The sh ... her husband needed healing. It was an emergency.”

“Did Sean know?” At Raviathan’s puzzled expression, Finnian clarified. “The man you healed.”

“He was unconscious the whole time. He may be delusional for a day as the poison works out of his body, but you can speak with him after that. So, you knew where I was taken then?”

“I was not sure,” Finnian replied. “There have been multiple attacks on the western boarders of Harrin’s land. Bandits and a tribe of Dalish moving north. A number of farmsteaders have suffered injuries, and our lands have been without a proper healer for years, which has made some freemen rather ... desperate. When I questioned the villagers, all of whom were agog at the news a healer was passing through, I opined you would be safe enough, which I explained to your Commander,” Finnian said, casting a quick glance at Duncan. “You might be overworked, perhaps, but few would risk injuring such a valued resource, particularly now.”

Valued resource, Raviathan thought resentfully. As if he were a prized druffalo.

Finnian continued at his silence. “Were you paid for your services?”

Raviathan hesitated. “I’ve never asked for payment before.”

The knight’s focus sharpened. “Don’t charge? But didn’t you state you were a healer?”

“I’m ... I worked for my alienage. They couldn’t afford to pay me.”

“Couldn’t afford?” The knight narrowed his eyes, mystified. “How then did you live, ser?”

“I was a dock worker.” Raviathan looked down, embarrassed by his station in front of these men.

All of the knights’ full attention was on him now. One of them scoffed. “From dock worker to Grey Warden? That’s quite the promotion. Whose cock did yo-” A clank of metal sounded as his fellow elbowed him in the side.

Finnian turned, very slowly, and strode to the younger man. His words were too low for Raviathan to hear what was said, but from the look on the younger knight’s face, Raviathan would have paid money to hear what went between them. When finished, Finnian turned back to Raviathan, giving him a deep bow. “Ser. My deepest apologies for the slight. Such words are most unbecoming, a sentiment not fit for present company.”

“Uh,” Raviathan stopped himself from taking a step back. Everything about this was off. “Ser, um, Finnian. You gave no insult. Please, don’t, uh, bow.”

“My charge spoke out of turn. As he is my charge, his behavior is a reflection upon myself. I have not been thorough enough in his education if he feels free to disrespect a man of your station. His failure is mine, for which I accept responsibility. Ser, please forgive this slight.”

Alarmed, Raviathan looked back up at the young knight. Brown hair and wide features, the young knight’s cheeks glowed red, his gaze locked on the floor. If he were any random elf, Raviathan would have been nothing to these men. He thought he should feel honored. Vindicated at least. This is how people should behave. Respectful. Wasn’t this what he had wanted from humans? Some basic courtesy, the same courtesy they showed one another?

Instead, Raviathan felt hollow. Not a week ago, these same men would have call him knife ear, propositioned him with little regard for his protests, allowed a lord to steal women to be raped. Raviathan was no different, no better than he had been a week ago when guards, knights, and nobles took what they wanted without a thought to the dignity of his people. Instead of reveling in the manners his station now demanded, Raviathan felt even dirtier. Like a pretender. Not only was he not a Grey Warden yet, the manners of these men were a simple courtesy of Raviathan’s new station, not how they would truly behave if their trappings of nobility were stripped away. We’re all pretenders here.

“Please,” Raviathan said, unable to look at any of them now. “Your apology is unnecessary.”

“You are too gracious, ser.” Finnian straightened. “But this does bring me to my next question. Would you accept a formal apology from Lord William?”

“Apology?” Raviathan folded his arms over his chest. “No. Not from him.”

Regarding Raviathan with a thoughtful tilt of his head, Finnian said, “For injuries to your person, such a settlement is common.”

Raviathan lifted his chin up. “He said ‘better to apologize than ask for permission’. His words mean nothing to me.”

When Raviathan caught Finnian’s weary expression, a look he had seen often in Valendrian, he knew this man didn’t pretend at his code. Understanding flashed through Raviathan’s mind as he studied the knight. Just a man, like any other, and yet his bearing set him apart, like a diamond among glass stones. Raviathan’s own bitterness was getting in the way of seeing that fact because it was easier to be angry. He had needed that anger to keep him moving when he wanted to give up, but anger was blindness as much as strength.

Knights, lords, and pretenders. Were they really not as synonymous as Raviathan had always assumed? Ser Finnian’s code was bound to his identity, as much as a spirit to the form it took. William didn’t pretend to live by a code at all. The man was what he was, without apology. As much as Raviathan detested what William had done, that shem had no pretensions of being someone different. The only pretender in this room was a little dock worker who thought he was a Grey Warden.

“Ser Finnian? If you don’t mind, I have some questions.”

“Certainly, Warden. How may I be of service?” The knight regarded him with polite interest.

Raviathan paused. Warden. He was still called Warden. That threw him as much as the knight’s respect. Even his phrasing, ‘how may I be of service’, struck Raviathan. “Uh. Well, um, what can you tell me of Lord William?”

“I have met the man but a few times, so I do not know much beyond reputation. He was freeborn, but fostered at Gwaren as reward for some service, marshaling the town against a hostile neighbor, if memory serves. He was trained and awarded lordship and lands upon return. He is known for having a good reputation with the Dalish, who camp near here. How he gained their trust enough to negotiate with them, I do not know. My own opinion is that he is on the rough side but loyal to his people. Crafty.”

Finnian hesitated. “I do not know if I am surprised by this incident or not. He has never been one for the finer points of noble behavior. Lord William does what he thinks needs to be done without regard for the consequences, but he has a reputation for upholding the rights of elves.”

“What will happen? To William and Molly?”

“The bann will decide, of course. Anything I say is mere supposition. Based on what I know of Bann Harrin, Molly will need to plead her case, but since she was not an active participant, she will be left alone. Same with Sean. Could be they will have time added to their indenture. The villagers here knew William was involved; however, their silence on this matter will mean censure for the village. Additional taxes, or, more likely, more time added to their yearly work on Harrin’s farms. Then, of course, the penalty for aiding in an attack on a Grey Warden who made his identity known is a serious offense.”

Finnian pursed his lips as he thought. “William is a trickier case for me to predict. Bann Harrin likes William—has as let the man get away with more than most would have in the same circumstances, but with the King’s favor of the Grey Wardens, this may be a slight of honor that cannot be so easily forgiven. Especially since he has added to his offenses.”

“Added how?” Raviathan asked.

“To your person,” Finnian answered in surprise. “You said he propositioned you.”

Raviathan’s brow knit as he considered. “But if Molly and Sean had nothing to do with it, why will they be punished?”

“They may not have known, but that does not excuse they have a part in this crime.”

“That doesn’t seem fair. Could I ... I don’t know. Write a letter on their behalf? Or something?”

Finnian gave him a nod. “A plea from the injured party would help their case.”

Raviathan pondered the knight’s speech. He could guess well enough at the man’s meaning, but the knight’s jargon left him wondering about the codes magistrates used. “I’m not sure how to phrase such a letter.”

“I would assist you,” Finnian offered, his gentle voice becoming softer. “With the storm, we will need to stay the eve, so we could do this at your convenience.”

“Okay, then.”

“Then we are settled. Your day must have been trying, indeed. I would not delay you from your meal. At your convenience, we shall draft a letter and finish any remaining business.”

Duncan gave Finnian a nod then led Raviathan to their waiting meal. “This day’s been quite the adventure for you.” Duncan sounded angry, though he kept it in check.

They found a booth in a dark corner, giving them privacy. Raviathan didn’t say anything as he stared at the savory pasty that was his supper. Instead of eating, he put his hands in his lap, head bowed, ready for his lecture.

“Eat up.” Duncan already had the wolf’s share of the buttered parsnips, mashed turnips, and rye bread.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Not mad.” He broke his own pasty mold to allow steam to escape. Raviathan was surprised that someone with his appetite had waited. “Not at you anyway. But we can’t have this anymore. Every inn we’ve been to, there’s been some sort of trouble. Tarimel’s had problems, but nothing like this.”

“Tarimel?”

“Our other elven Warden.”

There was another elf? “Why didn’t you tell me there was another elf?”

“Does it matter? A Warden is a Warden.” Duncan glanced at him, a sly glint in his gaze.

A little tease, but it was enough to let Raviathan know he wasn’t in trouble. “Ha ha.” Tension eased from his shoulders now that his worries were over. Inside the mold was a stuffed pike, a rare meal served to those who could afford such luxuries. Spiced apple cider graced Raviathan’s meal instead of water. Why had Duncan decided on such a costly meal?

The worries that shem lord instilled left. Duncan wasn’t mad, but more importantly, Raviathan knew Duncan was nothing like William. That ‘lord’s’ words didn’t have any weight over him, not anymore. “I don’t know what to say, Duncan. I don’t know how I could have prevented anything that happened today other than make sure I have an escort.”

“That won’t do. Today has been unusual, to be sure, but every inn? How did you get around Denerim?”

“Elves travel in groups. Especially after Arl Urien left with most of his guards. I got picked on outside of the alienage. Daily at the docks.” Raviathan chewed his lower lip. “I think ... I’m not sure, but I think since there were more elves in Denerim, I wasn’t so exotic. Since we’ve left Denerim, I haven’t seen many elves. A few working in a field, but none in a town. What’s Tarimel like?”

“He’s from a hamlet near Gwaren. He’s had a hard life, so he keeps to himself. I can guess at bits, but as a matter of courtesy, Wardens don’t pry into each other’s pasts. Why would you be more of a target if there are fewer elves?”

Raviathan gave a one shouldered shrug that was more casual than he felt. Though he kept his eyes on his food, he could feel Duncan watching him, waiting. Sighing, Raviathan lowered his fork. “Duncan, I don’t know much beyond my alienage. This ... this whole world ... it’s like going to a different country. All the rules are different. What I know is that if an elf isn’t living in an alienage or isn’t living with a noble family as part of their work, they’re a whore. Most elves who lived outside the alienage only did so because they were kicked out. There might be some way for them to eke out a living, but most became whores. That’s how most humans came in contact with elves in a city, so when we were outside the alienage, that’s what we were assumed to be. Not always, but that was pretty common. That ... that man, William.” Raviathan’s cheeks felt hot. “He’d been with an elf before. The things he said ... I don’t know who he’s been with, or how. But I’ve no doubt there are elves around here who are being used.”