Chapter 32: Plans and Tactics - Pets

“Careful with the oil there.”

Raviathan gave a brief nod as he cut the flower ovary, squeezing the contents into the into the mixing stone. Hundreds of pale seeds spilled from the flower.

“Ah, brilliant. You have done this sort of work before.”

“Yes,” Raviathan replied to the kennel master. “So, grind the seeds then add the mix.”

“Aye, that’s right. Mix it with a bit of cheese so he’ll eat it, and you’re done.”

“Cheese? The protein and fat don’t affect the mixture?”

The kennel master’s brows raised. “Hadn’t thought of that. Um, some bread then, perhaps.” Raviathan continued to work as the kennel master watched him. The human’s proximity would have been an irritant had other matters not overshadowed Raviathan thoughts. “Pardon, Warden, but are you feeling well?”

“Fine.”

“You, ah, look a bit peaked, is all.”

“Long day.”

“Aye, that. Not yet over either, eh. You’ll be in the battle then?”

“I expect so.”

The kennel master nodded then handed Raviathan a scrap of day old bread. The elf took the mixture to the kennel, the bread softening as it soaked. He didn’t hesitate this time as he knelt by the mabari. At a gentle touch to the mabari’s neck, the dog’s eyes opened to settle on him. The poor animal was dying and in so much pain it made Raviathan’s chest tighten.

“I’m going to take the muzzle off,” Raviathan whispered, his fingers unconsciously scratching the dog behind the ears. “Be good and eat this.”

The dog whimpered, and Raviathan had to hold up the dog’s neck so that he could eat from the bowl. “That’s right. That’s a good dog.” The dog whimpered again, and Raviathan laid him back down doing his best not to cause more pain. Already the animal was starting to stiffen. There was no point for the muzzle anymore.

Might as well let the dog die with what peace he could provide. Since his back was to the kennel master, and a quick glance showed no one was about, Raviathan laid a hand over the dog’s heart. It beat under his hand, slow and far too weak. Raviathan created his first spell, the magic flowing into the dog. The light born from the spell was channeled into the dog’s body so only a faint red glow silhouetted Raviathan’s hand in the darkness.

Leaving the bowl on a nearby table, Raviathan left for the meeting with the king. He walked with a surreal ease as if he remained still while the fortress moved around him. The old pine trees and stone, the shadows and shifting firelight, everything seemed eternal and he just as ancient, as if they were not in this world and more part of the memories of the Fade. Like the stones that made this fortress, he had been broken apart and reformed. Echoed in the blocks was the mountain they came from, ancient beyond life and remade then remade again: from mountain, to block, to brick, to stone, to earth. A remote part of his mind was still working as it normally did, another part he could feel memorizing these moments. What he had seen in the Fade, had experienced with the totality of his being, was looping over and over like a water wheel in his mind.

How long had he been in the Fade? A few moments, nothing to the annuls of history, yet everything was different as if the whole of the universe had shifted sideways. What was left of his rational mind argued with him. Nothing is different. The taint, the old gods, the Maker, all these incomprehensible forces that were deeper than all of the oceans, vaster than the endless night sky, they were just as they had been this morning when he woke on the side of the road. Nothing had changed, yet everything was different.

The taint sat like a stone in his stomach, its poison leaking into him. Part of his mind wanted to take a dagger, slice open his stomach as if the taint were a tumor to be excised. The saner part of him keep his hand from reaching for a blade. Strangely, a memory of his mother singing kept repeating, drowning out the rest. The sane and not so sane fragments of his mind let the song take over. Her voice filled him up, brought him back together, acted as both shield and salve.

I am a Grey Warden.

A rumble of thunder from the south sounded low in the pressurized air. Elves scurried about, frantic to protect the items under their assigned care. The rest of the fortress was near deserted of soldiers who were down in the valley.

He settled his new backpack as he walked to the meeting. The straps were wide, the pack well balanced so he didn’t notice it as he moved. Raviathan wondered how obvious the change in him was. The quartermaster stared at him as they traded, Raviathan mostly quiet but getting good prices nonetheless. The reactions from shems that had irritated him before just didn’t matter to him anymore. Let the shems stare. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Now he had a new dagger in his boot, a few survival items, and more coin than he ever had in his life. He had sold the lyrium potions swiped from the mage’s chest. While the blue potion hypnotized him, he dared not carry such goods until his standing in the Wardens was irrefutable. He could always claim that the tiny vial remaining in his healer’s kit was for research purposes.

No matter the danger, he couldn’t give up the book now hidden in his pack. The book on herbalism and potion recipes had made him gasp as he flipped through the pages. Solyn’s knowledge had been limited to what she learned in Tevinter and the bits she gleaned from other healers, but she was not as well versed in Fereldan fauna. This book was a wealth of mundane and spectacular potions. Now that he was a Warden he might be able to make items from the few Fade infused ingredients found in this world, rare fire crystals and frostrock, items that were now settled protectively in his healer’s kit.

The King’s armor gleamed in the gloom of the antechamber. What a target he makes, Raviathan thought. I could see that golden armor from miles away, even at night. Others were gathered around the main table, Loghain’s indomitable form, nobles and knights, a Chantry mother, a mage. And there was Duncan. Raviathan’s heart lifted to see his mentor. All the odd fragmented thoughts came together. Duncan had survived the Joining. If there was one other person Raviathan knew understood him, it was Duncan. Raviathan moved to stand beside his mentor, pride filling his chest and peace coming over him.

“Ah, and here is the recruit!” The king was smiling at him. “I understand congratulations are in order.”

Raviathan met his gaze with a level calm. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

A frown crossed the king’s brows as he regarded the elf. Cailan wore much the same expression as the others Raviathan had talked with tonight: puzzled, watchful, a bit curious, and wary. A touch of sadness set Cailan apart from the rest, for what, Raviathan couldn’t guess. Duncan shifted at his side, moving close enough so that Raviathan could feel his presence as he would the heat from a campfire.

“You do seem changed. Duncan said there was no going back once you were part of the Order, but I did not realize how true his words were. One day, Duncan, I will have to learn this secret.”

“Your Majesty...”

“I know, I know,” Cailan said, a tolerant sigh cutting off the argument. “If only all our knights could be so easily trained.”

Chuckles from the other nobles met Cailan’s quip.

“Indeed, but readied and at your command nonetheless,” said a noble with a red stag on his crest. “My men are in position, Your Majesty.”

“As are mine,” replied another noble with bright blonde hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. “These darkspawn certainly seem to love the taste of defeat.”

More laughter greeted this statement. Cries of support filled the antechamber. Bravado, or were these nobles truly so blind, Raviathan wondered.

“Good,” said Cailan. “And you, Duncan?”

“Your Majesty,” Loghain said through a clenched jaw. “I protest again.” The tension in the small party rose.

“Noted, now Bann Fer-”

“Why are you putting so much faith in these Wardens?” Loghain said the word as if it were a curse. “They tell us nothing of their Order, not even the most basic facts of how they are organized. You cannot be sure of their purpose.”

A hand on Raviathan’s shoulder warned him to stay quiet while they watched the two men. Cailan turned on Loghain. “Their purpose is to fight the darkspawn.”

“Their purpose is to bring in the Orlesians!” Loghain’s voice matched the coming thunder. “Two hundred march at our border. We weaken here with only wives and children defending our castles. These Wardens have turned against the crown before. How can you not see this?”

Cailan stood at his full height as he glared at Loghain. “You speak of the past, Loghain. And you speak out of turn. Currently, I’m wondering about your loyalty.”

The accusation hit like a slap. The nobles shifted, their bluster for the coming battle diminishing as their leaders fought.

Madness, Raviathan thought. To do this here? Now? Their armies will fracture like glass.

“Your Majesty,” Loghain began, his voice steady if not calm. “All I have ever cared for is this land. I would protect Ferelden with my life.”

“Then the plan remains.” Cailan turned his attention back to the maps. “We draw the darkspawn into the valley below, and you will lead your men from the flank at the signal.”

“Your Majesty,” Loghain said. “Will you not reconsider where you will stand during the battle? As the king you should not be near the skirmish.”

Cailan’s fist clenched, the metal of his armor scraping. “We are all needed in this fight.”

“We are, Your Majesty,” said the mage. He had a pinched face, his sallow skin carrying a hint of sunburn. While his muted robes were designed to be unobtrusive, his manner demanded attention. Raviathan studied him. A scholar, soft bodied and pale from lack of sun during his life, but with ambition giving him nervous energy. “We would do our part as well by lighting the signal.”

The Chantry mother’s lips pulled back. “We will trust no mage. Keep your demon damned spells pointed at the darkspawn.”

Glaring at the priestess, the mage stepped back then lowered his head. So, clearly the priestesses had the king’s favor over the mages. Raviathan wondered if he would still have the king’s favor if Cailan learned an apostate stood only feet from him. Flemeth had asked about beliefs, and Raviathan saw the damage beliefs wrought now. The mages wielded magic, real, demonstrable power. A mage’s power was not some abstract thing to be debated. The priestesses though? They prayed to a god who had long turned his gaze away from this world. They may sooth a man’s conscience, but their power was all in what men gave them.

“I can put some of my men on the task,” Loghain said. “Though not dangerous, the signal is vital for the success of the battle.”

“Your men are needed most,” Cailan said. “If it is not dangerous, have Alistair do this.”

Raviathan expected another fight from Loghain for putting a Warden in charge of the signal, but the battle weary knight nodded before returning his attention to the maps.

“Duncan, have your new recruit join him. Find me when you are done,” Cailan said.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Discussions for the battle continued as Duncan lead Raviathan away. In moments the nobles were rallying again, their cheers sounding overly optimistic in a world divorced from the Maker’s sight. Raviathan asked in a low voice, “Why did the king want me there?”

“I believe he wanted to see for himself how the Joining changes a person. He has been curious, but you can understand why the ritual must remain a secret.”

Yes, yes he could. “Light the signal?”

“At the top of the Tower of Ishal. Oil and fire crystal are set to make a fire bright enough to be seen from any point for miles around the valley, even with the coming storm. Alistair will know what to look for.”

“Alistair.” Raviathan’s lips thinned.

Duncan’s hand squeezed his shoulder then turned them so they were face to face. “Rav. The signal is your priority, not mage politics. That said, I want you to guard Alistair in this task.”

“Guard him?”

At Raviathan’s confusion, Duncan’s expression softened. “I understand your feelings about templars. I do. I would ask you to care for Alistair as he is now your brother. Rav, this is important to me.”

That fool meant so much to Duncan? If Duncan had said the task was important, that would be a simple order. However, ‘important to me’ echoed in Raviathan’s thoughts. The words were not just about Raviathan working with the other members of the Wardens. Duncan had a personal attachment to that shem. “Of course, Duncan. As you will.”

“Good lad.” They continued down the slope from the antechamber to the main fort. “Now you can see how precarious our situation is and the need for tact. While Loghain’s opinions are not the king’s own, he is a powerful teyrn and holds considerable sway. Without his military backing, we would be sorely pressed.”

A glint of gold caught Raviathan’s eye. The king was parading with his nobles through the gates to the battle below. “Once the signal is lit, shall I join you?”

“I’ll send word if you are needed. Can you find Alistair from here?”

“Yes, Duncan.” After a moment’s hesitation, Raviathan added, “Maker watch over you.”

“May he watch over us all,” Duncan said. Raviathan watched his mentor’s retreating back, wondering at their little ritual prayers to the Maker. The words were habit, not true sentiment.

Remembering his earlier despair, Raviathan felt the Joining vision with stinging clarity. Alone. Empty. Worthless. The Maker had abandoned them. Even when Raviathan had known that truth for years, the pain of abandonment had never stabbed at his heart as it did now. Shred him with broken glass so he bled from a dozen wounds, and that would be better than this forsaken existence. Living evil was amassing beneath his feet, evil that would rise and strike at any time. There was no getting away from it, no hiding. No escape. When darkspawn erupted from the ground to taint all they touched, when an old god could shatter his soul without effort, the world was lost without the Maker.

How could the Maker leave them like this? It was as senseless as leaving a baby in a forest to be torn apart by wolves. Our lives are such tiny, fragile things. We are blind and stumbling through this world. How could a being of such magnitude not understand our limited existence? How could he not have compassion for his own children?