Chapter 110: Engagement

It was a miserable afternoon, overall, I had to admit. I hated not having anything resembling control, I hated feeling useless. I wanted to at least be down there swinging my daggers and using my darkspawn invisibility to help the armies. Cailan clearly felt the same, and the two of us silently commiserated every time our gazes met.

Messengers kept arriving every few minutes, delivering messages before running off with orders. A second wave of darkspawn joined the first, but two more of our battalions had entered the fray as well, and the army was holding its own. The Grey Wardens – we didn’t know which group – had killed a general and a massive collection of ogres. There was no news on casualties among the Wardens. The Archdemon had finally been seen, but flying high over the battle, not close enough even for the combined range of the mages. It was a frightening sight, its hide a malevolent burgundy-purple, purple flames jetting from its mouth as it roared overhead, and then disappeared into the clouds.

The golems had entered the fight, and had decimated a large group of darkspawn moving to flank one of the battalions.

The losses were light as these things go, apparently, but it was still staggering to me. Hundreds of soldiers had perished, and hundreds more would before this was over. It was all I could do not to cower down into a ball and cover my ears, crying and rocking in grief.

The fight carried on into the evening; torches had been lit around the battalions as best as they could, and while our visibility from the cliff was limited, apparently they could see fine down below. The battalions had spread out and lost some of their cohesion, small knots of humans, dwarves, and elves fighting back-to-back against the horde, but they continued to hold their own.

Off to my right, a blaze of green light lit the sky, and an unexpected battalion of soldiers smashed into the side of the horde, taking everyone by surprise and giving those who had been fighting for hours a much-needed break. The nobles on the cliff all started talking at once, no one sure where the battalion had come from.

And then a large, nondescript brown bird landed in the middle of the clearing near the map table, and when the brief flare of magic cleared, one of the Dalish mages Morrigan had taught to shape-change was standing there, wearing minimal clothing – apparently it was difficult to shapeshift while wearing a lot. I recognised the mage as one of those who’d been sent with Teagan to protect Redcliffe.

“What are you doing here?” Cailan practically shouted.

The mage, a strikingly severe looking elf with black hair, turned to him with an arrogant smirk. “If his Majesty does not wish a report, I can certainly leave. I have no doubt my skills can be better used elsewhere.”

Cailan winced and modulated his tone. “That’s not what I meant. You’re from Bann Teagan’s battalion, yes? Why are you all here? You’re supposed to be protecting Redcliffe.”

“The darkspawn never came. We waited, and I scouted very thoroughly. There are no darkspawn anywhere near Redcliffe, your Majesty. Bann Teagan thought we could be more use here than protecting the village from a non-existent threat.”

Cailan and I exchanged worried glances, and the mage became defensive. “Believe me-”

I cut her off. “We are not doubting your skills, trust me. What we’re feeling isn’t disbelief, but worry – we know a large group of darkspawn headed west. If they didn’t go to Redcliffe, where did they go?”

“I couldn’t say.” The mage sniffed. “May I rejoin my battalion?”

Cailan nodded, his mind clearly already having moved on from the arrogant mage. “Send out as many scouts as we can spare. Find those darkspawn.”

“Do you think they’re heading for Denerim?” I wondered aloud.

“Let them,” one of the nobles I didn’t recognise laughed. “We evacuated the city days ago. They can do some damage to buildings, but they’ll find nothing else for them there.”

Cailan, however, was staring at the map as if he could divine the answers using his glare alone. He ignored our speculation, running his fingers over the edges of the parchment thoughtfully. The nobles talked amongst themselves, seemingly hopeful that the darkspawn had simply gotten lost and could be mopped up once the battle was over. I wasn’t convinced, and from his expression, neither was Cailan. He began tracing the route the darkspawn had taken heading west, muttering to himself under his breath.

And then I turned to him in horror, just as his fingers returned to our current location, the cliff overlooking the main part of the battle. The tingling in the back of my mind that indicated the proximity to the horde had changed, not only in size, but direction. Whereas earlier, the entirety of the horde I could sense was to the south, a large group had just appeared on my Grey Warden radar – to the north. There were never supposed to be darkspawn north of the scouting lines!

Cailan had come to the same conclusion, and I saw his skin go ashen as he realised the only way for a group that large to disappear was to separate into small bands, circle around, and come at us from a different direction – a direction we had absolutely no protection from.

Our doom approached us from the north.

The cliff I stood on, amidst few friendly faces and a gaggle of noble fools, was both a benefit and a curse. One the one hand, we could not be attacked from the rear by a second set of darkspawn. However, that came with the drawback of not having anywhere to retreat to. If we were overwhelmed by the darkspawn we had clearly underestimated, we had nowhere to run.

“Cailan, they’re coming,” I whispered, hoping no one would notice. Hoping he’d believe me, even not knowing I was a Grey Warden. Had Duncan told him I had special skills with regards to the darkspawn?

“How long?” He seemed to be taking me seriously, at least.

I considered. They were about as far away as the horde to the south had been when they first engaged. How long would it take darkspawn to cover that distance? “A few minutes. Maybe half an hour if they’re being cautious and scouting ahead.”

Cailan, while pulling on his gauntlets and helm, appeared to be assessing the crowd around us to determine who would be useful in a fight. He cleared his throat loudly, calling attention to himself, and the whispering stopped; the majority had no idea what danger approached us, and had been gossiping while I had been struggling to contain my panic.

Cailan hastily called Sereda, Eamon, Lanaya, Irving, Greagoir, a small handful of nobles, most of whom I didn’t know, and every messenger, mage, and scout we had into a nearby tent, dragging me with him by the arm. Prince followed me, and I gripped one of the spikes on his ridiculous armour lightly, thankful for the metal-lined leather that prevented me from slicing my hand on the sharpened point. He instructed one of those remaining outside to make sure every torch we could find or make was lit, leaving a confused nobleman to carry through with his orders.

“The missing darkspawn who we believed would attack Redcliffe are coming here.” The news was ominous enough to earn a complete hush in the small group that surrounded us.

“How can you be sure?” I didn’t recognise the dwarf, someone Sereda had brought with her to the meeting.

Cailan met my eyes, and I shook my head slightly. “You’ll have to trust me,” he replied, turning away from me. “I need you messengers to go now – run, as fast as you can. Those who can fly, do. The nearest battalion that might be able to render aid is southeast, past the hill.” Two mages and a handful of men in light leathers exited the tent at a run, faces pale and sweaty with fear. Cailan waited for them to be gone, and turned back to the rest. “What forces can we muster until aid arrives? We must hold out until they get here.”

They had a brief discussion – each noble had a handful of men-at-arms, we had a couple of circle mages, a dozen or so templars, a few Dalish archers, and the leaders themselves. I briefly thanked the Maker the nobles were dwarven and Fereldan, not Orlesian – at least most of them knew how to fight, and the Dalish Keepers were all mages, some offensive and some better at healing. All told, we had perhaps a hundred fifty combatants. And I couldn’t tell the size of the approaching horde, but from the reports of the group we expected to head to Redcliffe, we were outnumbered. Badly.

I barely listened to the conversation as Cailan quickly instructed everyone to have their men geared up and pulled into ranks north of the camp. I was trying to assess the size of the horde, and how fast they were moving, and didn’t even notice that the tent had emptied out until Cailan touched my shoulder.

“You alright?”

I jumped, startled, and then nodded with a shaky laugh. “Fantastic. What could possibly go wrong?”

He smirked, then slumped. “I need you to stay up here, Sierra.”

I looked at him, frowning. “What-?”

He interrupted me. “Alistair will kill me if anything happens to you.”

“And Ferelden will be thrust back into a civil war if anything happens to you! We’re going to need every capable fighter we have if we want to survive this, Cailan. I’ll not sit up here and wait for the horde to break through if I can improve our odds any. Besides, the darkspawn can’t see me. I’m in less danger than anyone else on this god-forsaken hill.”

“Why is that, again?”

I rolled my eyes. “Later. Could we focus on the approaching horde?”

He laughed. “Maker, it’s refreshing talking to someone who doesn’t treat me differently than everyone else.”

“Cailan!” I was exasperated. “Now isn’t the time! We need to get out there and get ready. And I need to be at the front lines. I can hopefully give us some warning, and a slight advantage if there are any emissaries. Can you put the templars with me? They might not be strong enough for my abilities individually, but I have an idea.”

Cailan nodded, and we left the tent. I weaved my way through frantic men and women throwing on armour and trying to limber up before the battle, Cailan on my heels, until we reached the area where the few soldiers we had were assembling. The King began shouting orders for mages, archers, and melee fighters, while I knelt in front of the mabari following me.

“Prince, go to Aedan.” He whined, and I rubbed his ear gently. “I know, but where I’m going, you can’t help. I’ll be fine – I’m in more danger with you than without.” I kissed his nose. “Give him that kiss for me, okay?”

He barked and nipped playfully at my fingers, then with a last lick, he brushed against me and took off at a run, nose to the ground looking for Aedan’s scent. I turned with a mournful sigh and approached Greagoir.

“Knight Commander?”

“What?” His irritated voice moderated when he saw me, helmet in hand. Now he has to be polite to me, I suppose. “Yes, my Lady?”

I’d already given him crap for calling me ‘highness’, so I figured I’d have to live with being a lady for a while, anyway. “I was hoping you and your men would stay with me. There are likely to be at least a handful of emissaries with this group, and with your help, we may be able to neutralise them before they get into the fight.”

“Most of my men don’t have your sort of range, my lady. Half of them can only smite someone within their sword’s reach.”

“I know. But have you been working with them, practicing sharing and holding mana, like I taught you?” He nodded. “I propose that I steal the mana of the emissaries, and then hand it off. I can only keep two, or maybe three, silenced completely at a time if I’m on my own, but if I have someone to take the burden from me as I grab them, I can keep going.”