Chapter 26: Plans and Tactics - Echoes

“South of the fortress is where the main battles have been fought and where the bulk of the hoard lies. The Grey Wardens’ encampment is in the lower wing of the fortress. You’ll join them once you’re officially part of the Order.” Raviathan was listening to Duncan but couldn’t help look up and about at the old fortress. It was possibly the largest structure he had ever seen up close. He felt like they were rats crawling through a human’s house as they entered the wide entrance from the Imperial Highway. Massive arches, some broken with age, rose overhead to cast long shadows into the keep. Bit by crumbling bit, the land was slowly retaking the fortress with the speed of a glacier. Enough earth had swept up from the valley below that vegetation and even trees had found a home for their roots. Some trees stood with more than a century’s age to them, and as they grew unchecked, their roots would gradually pull the stone of the fortress apart.

The sharp sound of steel horse shoes on stone clattered from further inside the fortress wing as a small band of warriors rode towards them. Duncan was clearly surprised to see the familiar fair face approach them just as they got to the entrance at Fort Ostagar. The lead human’s heavy golden armor clanked as he rode with careless enthusiasm.

“Ho there, Duncan,” the pale blonde man said, swinging down easily from his heavily armored destrier and striding forward. One of the mounted guards dismounted so he could hold the reigns of the king’s horse, actions as expected as a maid picking up the fallen clothing of her mistress.

“King Cailan,” Duncan said recovering himself, and Raviathan thought he heard a note of discomfort. “I hope all has been going well in my absence.”

“You’ve been gone for months now. I almost suspected you were skipping out on the blight.” The king’s voice sounded like champagne, light and fine yet essentially frivolous. It made him sound younger than his years and was at odds with his large heavy plate armor and imposing stature.

“Not if I could help it, Your Majesty,” Duncan replied with solemn dignity. Raviathan wasn’t sure, but it seemed that Duncan sounded sad. What had caused that?

“Good that you arrived when you did,” the king continued blithely. “We’ve won every battle against the darkspawn since you’ve been gone, four in all, and expect another attack shortly. This will be a glorious battle with a full horde, and if you’re right about the archdemon, the first blight to touch Fereldan soil. We’ll show all the rest of Thedas our might when we put an end to the darkspawn in such record time.” The king immediately set to posing with Duncan as if for an audience. King Cailan cut an impressive figure with his long golden hair matching his armor, a set that was more art than protection. He was quite handsome too, pale with a shadow of dark stubble and clear blue eyes, but Raviathan got the distinct impression of an eager puppy rather than a king. “The other Wardens told me you found a promising new recruit, and from an alienage no less. I take it this is he?”

Duncan’s dark if weary voice seemed impressive, as if it had more gravity, next to Cailan’s light tenor. It set their ages apart quickly and made the king sound more like a boy than ever. What had caused this change in Duncan? Wasn’t he looking forward to meeting with the King again? It was and honor after all, but then maybe he was use to it. “Allow me to introduce you, Your Majesty.”

“There’s no need to be so formal, Duncan,” the king replied lightly, as if the whole meeting were a joke. “We’re to be comrades in arms after all. Your name ... let’s see, what was it? Riv- something? Rivtan. Yes, that’s it.”

Raviathan averted his gaze down in deference. The king’s presence hadn’t been a problem as long as the humans discussed other things, but when he became the king’s focus, he felt a wash of nerves. He wished he could keep his defiance and say something withering like, ‘I am no friend of yours, human lord’, but this was a king. An actual king. The king. Nobles took no notice of elves as rightful people, never bothered with names, and this was the king. The whole thing was far too strange. If a dragon fell out of the sky Raviathan would have felt more normal. “Thank you. Yes, Your Majesty. Um, everyone calls me Rav.” Oh Maker, had he just thanked the king for not knowing his name? Stupid, stupid, stupid. If Shianni could see him, she’d laugh her ... and then Raviathan remembered that her laughter was gone. A coldness settled in him stronger than the sweeping southern wind.

The king had an easy chuckle which did nothing for Raviathan’s nerves. “From where do you hail, Rav?”

Everything about this seemed terribly awkward. “The Denerim alienage.”

“Tell me,” Cailan said with innocence pouring out of his guileless blue eyes, “what is it like? My guards all but forbid me from going there.”

Raviathan’s cheeks warmed. King or no, this man was a shem, and shems didn’t care about his kind. As a king, he should know the state of his people, and all he did was play at war. Raviathan knew there was no reason for the man to lie, but that he could have such an easy disregard for the troubles and injustices of elves reminded him of everything he hated about shems. He should know how bad it is when his own guards, the men who supposedly took orders from him, would not allow him to set foot inside the high walls where elves had no weapons but their rage. As if he truly wanted to go. They’re all hypocrites. Except for Duncan. “My people eat rats and the maggots from rotting meat to keep from a slow, starving death. As a child I watched guards kill my kin, defenseless women and babes, with impunity. How do you think elves live, Your Majesty?”

“I ... Maker’s breath. I had no idea.” The king’s astonishment was a vitriolic victory for Raviathan. Let the shem pose some more when he couldn’t hide from the accusation.

“Why should you? How can you know what you never see? We live in poverty and despair, and no one cares.” He still couldn’t look at the king. Duncan shot Raviathan a warning look. He was overstepping his bounds badly by instigating with the king. Rage flared in Raviathan’s sea storm eyes for an instant. Looking at his mentor, Raviathan relented, pursing his lips and looking away. He respected Duncan enough to let this battle go, but he was glad to feel his spine again.

Duncan turned to the king. “Your Majesty, we should discuss events at Highever.”

Cailan shook his head, his lips pressed together. “We received word a fortnight ago. Rendon Howe thinks he can get away with this because of a blight. He’ll know the King’s justice soon as we are able.”

“Only a fortnight?” Duncan mouth opened in shock. “This happened months ago. Surely someone would have spoken of it.”

“One would think,” replied Cailan, the shadow of distrust marking an otherwise innocent face. “The messengers we have received were from the lords taking in refugees but not a word from Highever. It’s as if the whole of the teyrnir has disappeared into the Fade. Howe is biding time, but for what purpose, I cannot say. He must know his actions cannot stand and is delaying the inevitable.”

“Then you do not know of the fate of the Couslands?”

“Did Howe not take them as hostages?”

“All the Couslands at Highever were killed.” Duncan frowned, putting a hand to his lips as he thought.

“What? You know this?” Cailan’s eyes went wide. “Even Fergus’ wife and son?”

“I was there, Your Majesty. Howe’s soldiers committed the most barbarous actions.”

Cailan walked to the ledge of the fortress to view the wide, fog shrouded valley below. Behind him, the guards glanced at each other nervously. “Fergus made it here a month ago, one of the first to answer our call to arms. He has been scouting in the Wilds for weeks now, and we haven’t heard back from him. I’ve no way to get news to him.” He turned back to Duncan. “Are you sure all were killed?”

“Your Majesty, I saw this with my own eyes. Bryce and Eleanor was killed in front of me by Howe’s men. I had to make my escape before I could confirm Aedan Cousland, but he had sustained mortal wounds when we were separated. The rest were murdered in their beds.”

“At least one is still alive, and let’s hope for their youngest.” Cailan shook his head regretfully. “I don’t see how Rendon plans to get away with this. Unless he suspects we will be too weakened from fighting with the darkspawn. He will be in for a great surprise then.”

“Is Urien Kendells in the camp?”

“Kendells?” Puzzlement at the question caused a slight frown to form between the king’s smooth brow. “He died in the first battle. We sent a messenger to Denerim to have Vaughan come in his place, but apparently there are bandits or some other problem keeping them from getting through as well.”

“His son Vaughan is dead, Your Majesty.”

The king looked at him for a stunned second. “I go to war and suddenly the whole country goes mad. Pity about Vaughan. A little rough in my estimation but loyal.” Cailan waved a hand. “Appointing a new arl is something for Anora to deal with. I will hear more about this matter later, but for now we have a war to attend to.”

‘A little rough’? Raviathan watched the king carefully. Cailan had already moved on from the news of Highever and Denerim. Raviathan wasn’t sure if this was a good measure of the man or not. It could be that Cailan focused the task at hand, but the attack on Highever was a major event that he was disregarding. Two months and little word meant the plot probably reached to this camp, that the king had enemies who were keeping him in ignorance or more enemies abounded to intercept messangers. How could he not care? Did he even realize the implications or that? Of course, there was little Cailan could do about the Couslands here. It made sense to keep his mind on the coming battles, but a whole teyrn family had been killed. That would have a huge impact on a good portion of the country. Perhaps the king had more depth than he let on. So far childish and thoughtless were the main adjectives Raviathan applied to him. Fear and uncertainty tightened Raviathan’s shoulders. Well intentioned or not, he would not trust this fool.

“I’m sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my tent,” Cailan said. “After being in the company of the Wardens all morning, Loghain is probably a hair’s breadth away from sending out a search party. Likely he means to bore me with more of his maps and figures. The man’s fascination with them is endless.”

Duncan said with impatience starting to enter his voice, “Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week. He believes the attacks from the Avvars near an end.”

“Ha!” Cailan replied with a smirk turning his face hard. “Eamon just wants in on the glory.”

The stern look Duncan was giving Cailan spoke more of his frustration than his voice. “Eamon has never been one to seek glory, Your Majesty.”

“He has to do something,” Cailan said. “The Bannorn thinks well of him, if they think of him at all. But come the springs Landsmeet he won’t have the persuasive powers he needs to raise more men for the Avvar attacks unless he proves he has some military might. The barbarians have apparently not warmed up to his endless compromises after all these years. And for that, he needs to make a name for himself here.”

Before he could talk himself out of it, Raviathan blurted out, “Was Howe expected to bring forces here?”

Cailan turned to him in surprise, but Raviathan read only interest in his face and not the derision he was used to from humans. “Well, yes. They were due a month ago, but we thought they had been delayed because of bad weather. Though with the coup at Highever, there shall be no trace of Howe or his forces here.”

“And you’re planning of disposing him?”

The king cocked his head at the elf. “In all likelihood. I certainly cannot allow this sort of treasonous action to go without reprimand.” Raviathan forced himself to not squirm under the king’s scrutiny. “Why do you ask?”

“I...” don’t lose your courage now, “I know little enough of these matters, Your Majesty. It just seems that he has given you a reason to take control of his army given that he has committed treason and unwarranted aggression. He’s also a threat now as he controls the northern border and therefore most of Ferelden’s trade from the sea. With his forces stretched between the arling in the east and teyrnir in the west, it shouldn’t be hard to take him, especially if Highever’s banns are resisting Howe. When the Orlesians arrive here, you could send a portion of your own force to take him. Once disposed, Howe’s army can fight the darkspawn here then be sent to Arl Eamon’s in the spring if he needs soldiers. You wouldn’t have to return the soldiers until new rulers are settled in Amaranthine and Highever. Then you’ll have Arl Eamon’s gratitude without having to sacrifice your own men. If Fergus is alive, a powerful teyrn’s gratitude as well for restoring his lands.”

The king watched him for a moment with his mouth parted in surprise. The guards stood still as statues, only their eyes moving from him to the king. Raviathan kept his gaze focused on the strange demonic face in the king’s golden armor wondering just how dumb he had sounded. Stupid, little elf around all these shems. What had he been thinking? Don’t squirm, damn you.

The king threw back his head and laughed. Raviathan looked down, mortified that he had spoken up to this man. Maker he was a stupid, little elf. He had a sudden desire to hide his ears and slink away. Why couldn’t he just hold his tongue?

He was surprised when the king clapped him on the back with enough force to sting him through his armor. Raviathan’s rough armor didn’t do much against plate gauntlets, but he stood his ground. Cailan’s heavy hand remained on his shoulder, its weight adding to his shame. “Duncan, I should steal this one from you and make him my adviser.” Thrown off by the response, Raviathan wasn’t sure if he was being ridiculed or not. He kept his head down and decided his mouth should be kept firmly shut for a good year as penance. “You can spare him, can’t you?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Duncan said with a respectful bow of his neck, “but I hold the Right of Conscription on this one.”

“Tell me,” Cailan said, returning his attention to the elf, “where did you study?”

Raviathan couldn’t stop the impulse to cross his arms over his stomach though he had tried hard not to. So he was being ridiculed. The human’s hand was still on his shoulder, and he wondered if this were to be the first time he’d have one of his ears pulled. The anticipation of such a sharp and intimate pain made him tight. This is why elves didn’t fight back or even pull away in self defense. Humiliation held them still, and knowing he was too frozen to act made the humiliation that much worse. “I have not studied, Your Majesty.”

“Ah-,” Cailan started but cut off, watching the elf in keen interest. He smiled then. “Of course. You just said you were from an alienage. How did you learn of politics and tactics then?”

Raviathan bent his head down a little more wishing he could crawl away. Kings weren’t suppose to be cruel, he thought. Why couldn’t this one let the lesson go. Doesn’t he have better things to do than draw out this punishment? “Duncan has been teaching me history on the way here, Your Majesty.”

“The way here? Surely the journey has been less than a fortnight.”

Raviathan was going to apologize hoping that would end this when Duncan spoke up. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid he must prepare for the ceremony to join our Order.”

“Just as well,” Cailan said with mirth still in his voice. “His pretty face would be far too much of a distraction for the court. Then you should make haste in making him an official member. Not only might I still try to steal him away, we have a battle to fight tonight.”

“Tonight?” Duncan asked.

Cailan finally withdrew his hand. Raviathan felt the phantom weight of the golden gauntlet remain as if his own burning face weren’t reminder enough of his stupid tongue. “Your second and a few of the scouts confirmed it this morning. You’ll reconvene with them first, I’m sure, but then Loghain will want to discuss strategy. Considering what the Wardens have said, it’s sure to be a glorious battle.”

“You seem very confident of victory,” Duncan said coolly.

Raviathan thought winning four battles sounded impressive, but Cailan’s disregard for strategy made Raviathan nervous. The darkspawn were terrifying and not to be left to chance. That was the second time the man had spoken of glory. In Raviathan’s brief experience, glory seekers got themselves in trouble. He hoped the king was an excellent fighter to make up for being foolhardy and incautious. But then perhaps this king was a good enough fighter that he didn’t find the darkspawn as deeply unsettling as Raviathan did.

“Overconfident some would say,” Cailan said blowing off any concerns with a smirk. “I’m not even sure if this is a true blight. There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas. We see no sign of an archdemon.”

“Disappointed, Your Majesty?” Raviathan knew he hadn’t imagined Duncan’s disapproval. The relationship between the king and Warden-Commander was a complex one. Joining or not, Raviathan wondered just how much Duncan would be willing to tell him.

“Blights are the makers of legends!” Cailan’s blue eyes lit up, either not noticing Duncan’s tone or ignoring it. “What would you not give to be the real life heroes of fables, your name forever spoken with reverence? The Grey Wardens fighting with a king against a tainted god. This is what people dream of their entire lives, and we may have that chance!”

Raviathan wanted nothing more than to get away from this man. Cailan was scaring him, and Raviathan had to fight the urge to slink behind Duncan. This was the leader of his nation? As if the ground had suddenly shifted under him, Raviathan realized how tenuous his place in the world was, how fragile his nation to the whims of men. Laws and nobility had always seemed like bars of iron, immutable and enduring. He and his mother slipped between the bars of law on occasion, but their solidity gave form and structure to his life. Had the establishments of his society truly been an illusion all these years? Like the violation of the alienage, the stone walls that made up Raviathan’s world cracked.

The heat left Cailan’s face when he turned back to his horse. “Ah well. If there is not blight, this will have to do. Now I must go before Loghain grinds his teeth away. Farewell, Grey Wardens.”

Following Duncan’s lead, Raviathan crossed his arms over his chest and gave a small bow in salute. Cailan remounted with no assistance even though he was in heavy plate armor. He expertly twisted the large beast around and raced away at a full gallop followed by his guards. Heavy muscle and armor added to the horse’s mass, the movement making Raviathan’s stomach clench in sudden panic. Again he was reminded how small and frail he was.

Glad to be alone again, Raviathan said quietly, “He said this wasn’t a true blight. If an archdemon hasn’t appeared, how do you know?”

Now that they were here and Raviathan was still firmly set on becoming a Grey Warden, Duncan let him know more than he had ever told a recruit. “Part of being a Grey Warden means that we receive portents of such things.”

Duncan indicated with a gentlemanly wave of his hand for Raviathan to continue down the path. They walked together into the first courtyard of the fortress. With the roof long destroyed, cold sunlight and shadows marked their path. Platforms to the left overlooked the mountains and hazy Korcari Wilds far below. A great tower with flying buttresses stood high and lonely to the right, the building remaining solid against the unforgiving elements. Raviathan wondered about the purpose of such a tower. It was less stable than ground buildings. The Tevinters had built this place a thousand years ago when the Northern Empire reigned at its peak, so if it was still standing, it only served to remind Raviathan of his own ignorance.

“Despite the victories so far, the darkspawn hoard grows larger with each passing day. We are quickly becoming outnumbered. I know there is an archdemon behind this, as do all the Grey. But I can only warn the king. It is up to him to act with wisdom.”

Raviathan shook his head. “I will not say this to another,” he said quietly, “but the king seems a fool.”

“Beware that you do not speak ill of the king,” Duncan whispered back. “We were only just allowed back into Ferelden after a two century exile. Fool or not, we need his support, and you can never be completely certain whose ears are around.”

“Of course, Duncan. What about the other Wardens though? Shouldn’t they be sending in reinforcements?”

“The Wardens of Orlais promised the wolf’s share of their numbers, but they have long to travel to reach us. They should be at the boarder soon. Until then, and we must do what we can and look to Teyrn Loghain’s army to make up the rest.”

There was that name again. Loghain. Raviathan’s father would probably know who this man was while he had a few days of history lessons to catch up. Raviathan wanted to get the measure this general to see if there was at least some intelligent influence to make up for the king’s foolishness. Maker please don’t let him be another glory hound.

“What about the Wardens of other nations?”

Duncan murmured deep in his throat. “They know of the danger but have shown little willingness to help us thus far. As I have told you of the previous four blights. They take decades to defeat and have decimated nations. Our other closest allies, Nevarra and the Free Marches, are both strengthening their numbers for what they think will be the inevitable invasion north.”

“Why wouldn’t they help us? If the blight is stopped here, then their lands might go completely unharmed.”

“The movements of an archdemon lead horde are difficult to predict. As the darkspawn move underground, they can strike anywhere. Unlike a regular army, their movements are next to impossible to track. The Warden-Commanders of Nevarra and the Free Marches fear for their nation’s safety if they are left without their Wardens’ protection.”

“Sounds like they’re abandoning us,” Raviathan said sourly. “I thought Wardens believed themselves separate from the nations in which they’re stationed.”

“They do and they don’t. Unfortunately, these decisions are almost never black and white. Though we are supposed to remain neutral, we are not immune from the influence of politics. In truth, they may think this nation is already doomed due to our low number of Wardens. I am not entirely certain of their motives, but I believe they think it a waste of resources to travel here when they can fortify their positions with more ease.”

“So they leave us to die in what may be a hopeless battle.” That might be good strategy, but Raviathan thought those Wardens were showing unconscionable cowardliness.

“Well, I’m not giving up so easily.” Raviathan smiled, resisting the urge to take Duncan’s hand as he would his cousins. Human lands, human rules. “We have the king’s support along with the remaining teyrn and many arls. Do not be so quick to judge the other Wardens. Long range views, Rav.”

Raviathan was tired from the long journey. Though he was more than half Duncan’s age, the human seemed to be so much stronger than he. The journey hadn’t fazed him at all. Raviathan knew his own tiredness was part of the reason for his bad judgment. He had been brash with the king and without cause. The king, for all his glory mongering, had shown at least a passing interest in his people. Perhaps his judgments had been a little too harsh, and Duncan had told him to be patient. Raviathan nodded in understanding.

Duncan continued distractedly, “I need to meet with the other Wardens first. Get a meal and explore the camp as you will. Jory and Daveth should be around somewhere. I’ll send someone for you when it’s time.”