Chapter 129: Fallout

In the end, it was decided that Zevran would tackle Erlina, being the most likely to catch her if she was lying, while Aedan, Alistair, and I went to free Dougal and Loghain from their house arrest and bring them to Cailan to hear their side of the story. Both men were being guarded in rooms in a dim, slightly dingy hallway; the guards reported no problems with either man, and appeared to be quite relieved to be released from their duty.

Aedan knocked, and then opened Dougal’s door; the older man was sitting cross-legged on the bed – the only furniture in the room – reading a book. His smile was incredibly relieved when he saw Aedan and Alistair, and he jumped up to clasp forearms with each of them before hugging me briefly. He started trying to explain, but Aedan stopped him, telling him we’d sit down and talk about it all at once.

Loghain, on the other hand, was pacing, shirtless, a large bloody bandage wrapped around his middle. He was in amazing shape for a man his age, I couldn’t help but notice; beside the bandages, his torso was covered in various scars that did nothing to hide his physique. He quickly donned a shirt, bowing to us respectfully. I was surprised – from all reports, he’d barely survived, not been offered healing, then been held a virtual prisoner since the wreck; I expected some anger, at least, but all I could see in his countenance was grief. I keep forgetting he just lost a daughter. He’s got bigger issues than Cailan’s bad treatment.

We led both men to a small room where Cailan waited; Aedan insisted that Wynne be allowed to heal Loghain before anything else happened. The mage bustled in a few minutes later, exchanging fond smiles with Dougal before proceeding to unwrap Loghain’s bandages with an irritated sniff. The Warden tried to object, claiming he was fine, pushing her hands away, but Wynne slapped his hands and insistently ripped off large clumps of filthy gauze.

“Why weren’t we called before now? There’s an entire clinic of healers in Denerim! This should have been tended days ago.”

The degree of ire in her voice made me curious, and I stepped to the side to see the wound as she bared it. I immediately regretted it; there was a gaping hole in the man’s abdomen, the edges of which were grey and ragged; blood and pus pooled in the wound, and bruising led from the injury around his flank and down towards his hip. I gasped in horror, wondering how he had survived this long.

“Cailan!” I exclaimed in disgust.

Cailan blanched as well when he saw it. “In my defense, I had no idea ... no one told me. Loghain, I am sorry. I would not have left you like this had I known.”

The taciturn former noble barely responded, distracted as he was by Wynne cleaning out the wound with supplies she produced from a small bag she’d brought with her. He tried to suppress his groans of pain, but a few slipped through and we all winced. Finally happy with her work, Wynne concentrated, and I felt her mana gather. The healing took several minutes, and left Wynne reeling and Loghain looking nauseous; it also left him with a large, dark, puckered scar. I helped the mage into a chair, while Loghain slowly, stiffly redressed himself.

“I’m sorry about the scar,” Wynne said to Loghain. “It has been too long. You’re very lucky to have survived.”

“Not sure I’d call that lucky,” he muttered, thinking about Anora, I assumed. I wonder if he kept quiet about the wound hoping it would kill him? But he tried to force a smile for the healer. “Thank you.”

Wynne, recovering slowly, climbed to her feet and excused herself; she was going back to her clinic, she told us, but promised to be back before supper. Just as she was leaving, a line of servants arrived, carrying trays of food which they placed on the sideboard before slipping out. Cailan gestured at everyone to eat; we all helped ourselves, though I noted Cailan took only an apple and some cheese. Probably the first thing he’s eaten in days.

Finally settled with our plates, Aedan turned to Loghain and Dougal. “Start from the beginning,” he requested.

Dougal began. “We left Denerim and things were fine for a few days. We were following along the Ferelden coast; we stopped in Highever for a few hours to board supplies, and then headed further west – there’s a safer crossing point to Nevarra near Jader. That was our goal.” He looked around, sighing.

“The ship was attacked in the night after we left Highever. I woke when we were boarded – I could hear too many pounding feet, and yelling. I grabbed my sword and opened the door to my room, only to be attacked. They were dressed like sailors, though they seemed to have trouble with their balance, so I suspect they were disguised soldiers, not pirates. They had Orlesian accents. I fought my way up to the deck, finding most of the crew slaughtered.”

Loghain broke in. “I only woke when someone stabbed me, and I wonder now if I’d been drugged – I’m not usually a deep sleeper. I killed my attacker with his own blade, and then tried to get to Anora’s room.” He grimaced, face a mask of pain and grief, and his voice cracked when he spoke again. “Her door was open, and she was lying on the bed, blood trickling out of her mouth, her eyes wide open. She was dead, I’m sure of it.” He looked at Cailan anxiously, clearly thinking he wouldn’t be believed. “She didn’t do this, Cailan. I’m certain of it. She had come to terms with Nevarra, and she wasn’t unhappy to go.”

Cailan nodded tersely, clearly suffering from the telling. Alistair reached over and put a supportive hand on Cailan’s shoulder, and the king’s expression softened slightly.

Dougal continued, “The ship was on fire, and taking on water; most of the attackers were dead or fled – I saw their ship in the distance. Riordan dragged Loghain, unconscious, onto the deck; he and I pushed some crates into the water for floatation, and he ordered me to take Loghain and swim for it. He told me he was going back for Anora’s body, knowing that you’d need proof. I carried Loghain overboard, and we waited ... we waited longer than we should have, way longer than I was ordered ... but the ship sank, and we never saw him again.

“A few other survivors were in the water; we all grouped together and swam to shore. A couple of people died of their wounds, and some I think succumbed to the cold, but we made it to shore near West Hill. Bann Franderel’s men found us; he gave us healing potions and sent us back here by cart.”

“And you have no idea who attacked you?” Cailan’s voice was much steadier than I expected, given his obviously emotional reaction to what had happened. I’m just happy he’s dealing with things, instead of hiding in his room and drinking his feelings.

Loghain and Dougal both shook their heads. Loghain scowled. “They were Orlesian, but even I must admit that many would benefit by making it appear we were attacked by Orlais. They could have been mercenaries, hired by almost anyone. I have many enemies, as did Anora, and one or both of us were clearly the targets.”

“Because you were stabbed?” I asked.

“Because I was sedated,” Loghain replied. “Warden Dougal felt no ill effects. Someone must have dosed my food, possibly Anora’s as well. It made us easy targets, and once we’d been stabbed, the attackers fled. If it had been piracy, or an attack on the ship itself or the captain, they wouldn’t have started a fire, wouldn’t have run – they’d have been looking for valuables.”

“Did the captain survive?” I asked, thinking sadly of the man with the dry sense of humour.

“Yes,” Dougal replied, “and a few of the crew, but I don’t know where he is now. He was brought back to the palace, but I’ve no idea where the other survivors were taken.”

We talked for a while longer, and it became clear that no more details would be forthcoming; Aedan, Alistair, Cailan, and I left Dougal and Loghain in the sitting room, heading to Cailan’s office for a chance to talk privately.

“Do you believe them?” Cailan asked.

Aedan nodded. “No reason for Dougal to lie – or Riordan to cover for Loghain, once unconscious, if Anora had escaped alive or some such. I don’t see Loghain assassinating Anora and stabbing himself to allay suspicion ... nor Anora attempting to assassinate her father. Unless Anora was a lot less human than even we expected, someone tried to kill them both.”

I agreed, though I had to admit that some of the politics escaped me - who would benefit from Anora’s death? And I hadn’t entirely let go of the idea that the former queen might have faked her death, her father’s injury perhaps unintentional.

“The Orlesians could be looking to sow discord between Ferelden and Nevarra; Duke Anaxas is not going to be pleased, and he could very well be the next to challenge the King’s hold over Nevarra,” Cailan speculated.

“For that matter, the Duke’s enemies could have been responsible, and they just tried to dispose of Loghain to get at Anora,” Alistair countered.

“Let’s not forget the Fereldans who might want vengeance against either of them, or those that might think you would be grateful to have them dead.” Aedan smiled sympathetically at Cailan. “There are enough potential candidates to go around.”

“So now what?” I asked.

“See what Zevran comes up with, and question the rest of the survivors.” Aedan sighed. “Any idea where they are?”

“This is why I have a seneschal,” Cailan replied wryly.

We found said seneschal, and were escorted to a long-unused wing of servant’s quarters, where the rest of the survivors were being held under house arrest. I was truly pleased to learn they hadn’t ended up in a dungeon – or Fort Drakon. Cailan excused himself to catch up on his duties, including dealing with the nobles who’d been plaguing his seneschal, leaving us to question the survivors.

We questioned the captain first; his account matched Dougal’s, though he offered a few new details.

“It was a pirate ship – Felicisima Armada, I’d guess, one of the fastest ships I’ve seen – but it wasn’t pirates that boarded us. They carried soldiers; I couldn’t tell you whose. The attack seemed calculated, directed – don’t know what they were after, but it wasn’t treasure. They only killed anyone who got in their way, and they didn’t take anything. My boys put up a good fight, but they’re not trained soldiers – they had no chance.” He looked incredibly weary – not from bodily fatigue, but just the weight of the world pressing on his shoulders. I resisted the urge to hug him. I wondered if he’d had family on his crew, and how he was going to make a living now that his ship was at the bottom of the ocean. I hoped Cailan would compensate him in some way ... I realised I was missing the rest of the conversation with my wool-gathering.

“ ... any new crew members?” Aedan was asking. “Anyone who signed on after we booked passage for Lady Anora?”

The captain looked thoughtful for a minute. “There was, yeah. Kind of odd, actually; my galley hand never showed up when we were loading supplies. I sent a runner to his usual room, and no one answered. I had to take on someone new right before you arrived at boarding.”

Aedan scowled. “Where did you find the new guy?”

“Just on the docks. Same place I originally found all of my crew – you take on someone new, evaluate them for one or two trips before hiring them permanently.”

We all exchanged bleak looks.

“What?” he asked.

“Is the new galley hand among the survivors?”

He looked remorseful. “No. Must have gone down with the ship.”

I snorted. “Or he’s halfway to Rivain or somewhere with those mercenaries.” When the captain looked at me, confused, I frowned sadly. “I’m afraid you’ll probably find your former galley hand is dead, Captain. Your new hire was a plant by whoever attacked your ship.”

He blanched, chin falling to his chest, shoulders slumping. “I ... I didn’t know! I swear, if I’d known...”

Aedan patted his shoulder. “Calm yourself, Captain. We don’t blame you. Can you tell us anything about the man you hired?”

He shook his head. “Name was Lem. Brown hair, brown eyes. Nothing that would stand out. And he kept to himself a lot. I didn’t think much about it – a lot of sailors originally go to sea to get away from something. I don’t usually pry.”

Alistair sighed. “Very well. Listen, Captain, we need to confirm details with your surviving crew, see if any of them knew anything about the new galley hand, but then you’ll all be free to go. Talk to the seneschal about compensation for the families of the deceased crew and for your ship.”