Chapter 127: Emergency Measures

The messenger opened his mouth, and the next words out of it would send me reeling.

“The ship carrying Her Maj- ... er, I mean, Lady Anora, to Nevarra was scuttled. There were some survivors, but Lady Anora wasn’t among them.”

The four of us sitting in the dining room were in an immediate uproar, everyone yelling questions, until Alistair finally hollered over the din, silencing all of us. “Alright, please, start at the beginning. When did this happen, what do we know, and who survived?”

“I don’t know all the details, though some may be in that letter.” The messenger pointed at the envelope Aedan was holding. “I know some of the crew survived, as well as Warden Loghain. He and some others were escorted back to Denerim to allow the details to be sorted out. It happened ... oh, must have been ten or twelve days ago, now, but it took a while for word – and the survivors – to make it back to Denerim.”

Aedan dismissed the messenger, ripping open then envelope once we were alone. He scanned the contents of the letter quickly as the rest of us speculated quietly.

“That bitch!” I hissed. “Did she arrange this? Maybe somehow she got off the ship first, faked her death so she could go stir up trouble for Cailan?”

Alistair’s mouth sprang open in surprise. “I hadn’t even thought of that. Maker, what a mess!”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Zevran agreed; “she is devious, that one, yes? But she also has no shortage of enemies. There are any number of people who might think to gain favour with our illustrious monarch by assassinating his ex-wife.”

Aedan started swearing loudly as he finished reading.

“Loghain survived, as did Erlina,” he explained. “It seems Riordan ... didn’t make it.” His voice cracked, and I stifled a sad little whimper trying to escape. “Cailan doesn’t really know a lot of details yet, but it sounds relatively certain that Anora died. He’s asked us to come back for support – he doesn’t sound like he’s coping particularly well – but also to decide what to do with Loghain.”

He handed the letter to Alistair, and I read over my husband’s shoulder; it was basically exactly what Aedan had said – an appeal for help, with virtually no details provided other than that the survivors were being asked to stay in Denerim until we arrived. It didn’t even say if Dougal had made it.

Alistair pulled me in for a hug, and I reached out for Aedan’s and Zev’s hands as we all tried to mourn Riordan – but briefly. It was clear we’d need to be leaving, and soon.

“I’ll go pack for us,” I told Alistair. “How are we going to be travelling?”

He and Aedan exchanged worried glances. “I’d say horseback, but...” Alistair trailed off, clearly reluctant to voice his lack of confidence in my riding abilities.

I had no such qualms. I pouted. “I’ll never make it all the way to Denerim. I can barely get around the arena without bruising my ass!”

“What if you double up?” Aedan suggested. “We can bring an extra horse to carry our packs, and the two of you can trade off to spare any one horse the double burden the entire way. And riding double will be easier on your ass,” he added with a smirk.

I groaned. “Fine! Fine. Just so you know, I may have to deal with the sore ass, but you all have to put up with the whining. You guys go deal with the Wardens; I’ll get us ready to leave.”

Zevran followed me up the stairs to pack for himself and Aedan, while I began hunting for bags to put things in. Months of travelling by foot had made me efficient at packing, but this was different. If we were going to be at court, I’d need dresses, Alistair would need fancy clothes, and we’d both need shoes; we needed bedrolls and tents for the travel, not to mention food and water skins.

Varel dropped in as I worked, wishing me a good trip. He made a recommendation that made a lot of sense, as much as I knew Alistair wasn’t going to be happy about it. I’d known for some time that I was going to have to go to Soldier’s Keep at least for a while. Leaving my seneschal to do everything was one thing, but I needed to at least drop in and approve everything he’d done, not to mention check up on my soldiers and the Wardens stationed there. On the way back from Denerim, after our visit with Cailan, was probably the best opportunity I was likely to get. Cailan had promised me another batch of soldiers, so I’d have protection while I travelled, and while it wasn’t exactly on the way between Denerim and the Vigil, it wasn’t that far out of the way either.

I packed accordingly.

Zevran helped me arrange my bundles of things into packs a horse could carry, and we were both done before Alistair and Aedan finished giving instructions to the rest of the Wardens. Conrad was left in charge, as usual, with instructions to patrol the areas previously cleared, but not enter the Silverite mine or engage the Architect in any way. Scouting the Dragon Bone Wastes would wait until we got back from Denerim.

When I mentioned my planned side-trip to Soldier’s Peak, Aedan prepared Bel to head that way with a group of Nathaniel’s soldiers; Bel would replace Faren, who had been at Soldier’s Peak for months, and the soldiers and Faren together would be able to escort me from the Peak back to Amaranthine. Alistair wasn’t happy about the planned separation – neither am I, if I’m honest – but he understood the necessity of it; he tried to find a way to justify coming along himself, but Aedan needed him. It wouldn’t have worked.

The four of us loaded our things on Sadie, who was apparently to be ‘my’ horse, and then, fully armoured and armed, we all mounted. Alistair climbed first onto a huge, sleek, black horse unimaginatively named Midnight, and then pulled me up into his lap. Despite his borrowed plate armour and my leathers, it was an interesting, and definitely not objectionable way to ride, I decided. Alistair’s strong arms wrapped around me from behind, his breath blowing my hair around, his legs somewhat cushioning mine, his groin pressed against my ass; I shifted, and he grunted softly in my ear.

“Behave,” he commanded, the grin almost audible in his voice despite the sadness we were both feeling.

I giggled. With a last wave, we headed out.

At first, Aedan kept a reasonable pace. Trotting, I discovered, was much easier to learn when snuggled up against someone you loved. In retrospect, after feeling Alistair’s powerful legs moving, the rhythm was obvious, and soon I was bouncing along happily – posting, evidently – and enjoying the occasional frustrated groan from behind me as my ass grazed against Alistair over and over.

We hadn’t gone far when we heard the sound of more hooves – a single rider, from the gait, and coming up fast behind us. Nervous, for some reason, we all turned and reached for weapons just as a head of flaming red hair came into view.

“Leliana?” I called, incredulous. She’s leaving Nate?

The bard nodded at me, her answering smile not reaching her eyes. “I think I may be able to be of use to you, yes?”

“Leli...”

“Not now, my friend, please?”

I could see she was barely holding on. If I pushed it, she was going to be crying, and I knew she wouldn’t want that. I nodded slowly, and she pulled her horse in ahead of us, leading us at a brisk pace down the heavily wooded road. I met Aedan’s worried gaze with one of my own; I silently promised to make sure she was alright later, once we’d camped.

If I’d thought trotting was fun, on a horse, it turned out cantering was better. Far smoother for the rider, cantering was the closest I’d felt to flying since leaving Earth. It reminded me somewhat of driving in a car with the windows open, and I reveled in the cool fall breeze whipping my hair back; Alistair enjoyed that less, and I soon tied it back. Galloping was even more fun, and I cackled with glee as we pelted down the road when we hit a nice, long straightaway. But we couldn’t maintain that pace for long – especially with one of the horses carrying two of us – so most of the time we trotted, allowing the mounts to walk and catch their breath periodically.

We’d left mid-morning, but thanks to fresh horses, we made good time; Alistair and I traded horses halfway through the day, after repacking our stuff onto Midnight’s back. We’d have to take it a bit slower, after the first day, if we didn’t want to harm the animals, but Aedan figured we’d be able to make it to Denerim in just under three days. I’d spent most of the afternoon with Alistair coaching me, holding the reins, getting used to controlling a horse, developing instincts for what to do in different situations. I had a tendency to flail my feet when I got anxious, which naturally spurred the poor beast on instead of stopping it; it wasn’t going to be an easy habit to break.

Camp the first night was a nostalgic reminder of camps during the Blight. There were only five of us, but we laughed and joked around a meal of biscuit, jerky, and cheese. Leli volunteered to take first watch, and as we’d stopped late and ridden all day, we all collapsed into our tents with appreciation. I tried to stop and talk with Leliana, but she held up one hand before I’d even managed to say anything, and I took the hint, squeezing her fingers lightly and leaving her alone.

Alistair and I both smelled like horse, and we were exhausted; despite both of our low-level arousal for much of the day from rubbing against each other suggestively, we just slept.

The next morning we discovered Leli hadn’t woken anyone for watch; the bard had stayed awake all night, obviously hurting, and I was worried. She still wouldn’t talk, walking briskly away when I tried to catch her in the woods after morning ablutions; I couldn’t exactly chase her down, given the horrible, unexpected pain in my legs and hips. I’d underestimated how much riding would hurt, and I hobbled around the camp pitifully like an eighty-year-old. Everyone else was only somewhat stiff; I thought I’d cry if I had to get on another horse.

Zevran handed me one of the small healing potions he’d brought, anticipating my need, and I sighed gratefully as my achy muscles relaxed. I vowed to stretch better at the end of the day, and then did a few stretches while loading packs onto Sadie again. The second day continued like the first; we rode as quickly as we could without hurting the horses, covering an impressive amount of ground before camping again. This time we shooed Leliana off to her tent right after eating; the fatigued bard had been swaying in her saddle by the time we stopped. The rest of us took turns on watch, and had another peaceful, if too short, night.

Leli didn’t look much better rested the next morning; I’d taken a healing potion before even getting out of my bedroll, and so I cornered her after breakfast while the guys were packing our gear onto Sadie.

“Talk to me, Leli? Please? You’re my best friend. Don’t lock me out.”

The bard sighed, taking my offered hand with a quick squeeze. “I just ... I need to talk to Dorothea.”

I looked at her closely. “What does that mean? Are you leaving him? Or asking permission to be with him? And how does coming with us help – aren’t we going the wrong way? You could have taken a boat from Amaranthine.”

Her look got evasive, and I raised one eyebrow. Avoiding eye contact, she muttered, “She’s in Denerim.”

“What?”

“Dorothea is in Denerim. I got a message through the Chantry in Amaranthine. She’s going to be Ferelden’s next Grand Cleric, if Cailan will allow it.”