Chapter 177: Exercise in Frustration

The next week was an exercise in frustration. Moving to an inn went well, except that Alistair was only capable of walking a few feet, and even that caused significant pain. He was mortified at being carried on a stretcher, but we really had no other choice. We rented a carriage to limit how far he had to travel like that, but he was surly and embarrassed the entire time – and the carriage ride nearly killed him, bouncing over rocks and potholes without anything resembling shocks. Larus dosed him with something before we left, and again after we arrived – I guessed it was probably something like opium, though I was too afraid to ask – but it didn’t seem to help much.

The captain was all over himself trying to help, so grateful that he was going to be allowed to leave – and that none of us seemed to be out for his blood in revenge for the attack on his ship. His men carried our things, helped us load them on the carriage, and carried Alistair’s stretcher until we were safely esconced in a beautiful, high-class inn far enough from the docks that I couldn’t even smell fish anymore.

Avanna assured me they had secured Dera ... somewhere. I assumed she was in the inn’s cellar or some such, because there was some sort of tense discussion between the guard captain and the innkeeper before he nodded and scurried off, and I didn’t see Dera again after that. I still hadn’t decided what I would do about her when we got back – it was going to be an awkward discussion no matter what. She might not have had much of a choice, but the elf had betrayed us – and Alistair had almost died. I decided to put it out of my mind until we got back to Highever. I knew Avanna would keep her contained until then.

Aedan and Zevran took off with Larus, promising to check in at least daily on the sending stones. They’d decided upon some sort of strategy to go looking for the healer’s companion – apparently a young elf named Arathea. I was still worried about her – not only that she was alone somewhere, but also that she might have been coerced to go with Larus. He seemed like such an arrogant jerk sometimes, though he had helped us when we needed it, so it was hard to be certain. Maybe he just has terrible interpersonal skills. One way or the other, if they found the poor woman, I resolved to get her alone and make absolutely sure she was with him of her own volition.

That left Alistair and I alone – discounting the seven guards and one prisoner we had remaining – with a very irritable Fergus.

I’d already told Fergus off once – something both Alistair and Aedan had approved of, when they found out – but it didn’t save me from having to speak to him entirely. We had logistics to work out, for starters, and the inn wasn’t that big; even just walking through the hallways, I ran into him at least daily. Fergus was completely frustrated at the delay in our trip. He understood why, and for once didn’t seem to be blaming it on me, but it left him snappish and curt to the point of rudeness. Even when he was trying his patented ‘I’m so charming that I can patronise you politely’ thing, it fell flat when he inevitably lost his temper and snapped.

So to avoid him, I spent most of my time in my room with Alistair. I didn’t mind at first – I was so grateful my husband was alive that hovering over him and fussing didn’t bother me. I brought him meals and water, helped him wash and shave, encouraged him to do the stretching and exercising Larus recommended ... and completely pissed him off. He was in pain – his muscles would apparently burn for days until his body had completely processed the toxins his liver had been unable to clear, and though he refused to remove his bandages so I could see it, the large, knotted scar from his chest to the middle of his abdomen pulled with every movement – and exhausted, sleeping nearly sixteen hours a day at first. Somehow, though, my attentiveness just drew his attention to his inability to care for himself and it left him cranky.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love me and want to spend time with me, he was quick to reassure me. Just didn’t like feeling useless, like a burden. And no amount of reassurance from me seemed to help. The fact that he was too sore and tired for sex was the last straw in his abysmal mood, and it became clear: I had to get out. At least for a few hours.

The issue was, I couldn’t decide how to accomplish that. Was it better to go out as a noblewoman with a bodyguard, or wear armour and try to blend in with a group of guards? I wasn’t about to discuss it with either Fergus or Alistair, both of whom I desperately wanted to throttle – and I didn’t want Aedan worrying about me when he had bigger issues to deal with. When I informed Avanna I wanted to go shopping, she seemed convinced that acting like a noble was my safest move, even though I’d have to lie and give a fake name. Even the innkeeper didn’t know our real identities; just like in Ostwick, unless we wanted to be presented to the rulers of Wycome, we couldn’t admit that Alistair was a prince.

I waited until Alistair was napping, and then got dressed; I refused to go out completely unprotected, so I decided to wear my lightly armoured court clothes – I was going to need more of those, at the rate mine kept getting destroyed – and carry a dagger strapped to my forearm. Avanna brought another one of my guards, and the three of us set off in the direction of the retail district of Wycome.

I wasn’t looking for anything in particular – we wouldn’t be in Wycome long enough to have clothes tailored, and that was the only thing I really needed – but I figured even just wandering around would be a significant improvement over being cooped up in the inn with two grumpy men. Wycome was a larger city than I’d expected; somehow the fact that I hadn’t even heard of it in game left me assuming it would be insignificant, but it was larger than Highever, if significantly less prosperous. Our walk from the docks to the inn had demonstrated streets that weren’t anywhere near as clean, the buildings older and more run down; the Alienage was huge and surrounded by a high wall, the few buildings I could see through the gate dilapidated. It didn’t leave me feeling warm and fuzzy about it, that was for sure.

My first impression improved a little as I got closer to the centre of the city. As we left the inn, instead of heading down towards the poorer areas we’d walked through the day before, we went towards the central market, which was ringed by prosperous businesses, estates that probably cost more than a castle in Ferelden, and a wide avenue through the centre of large, well-maintained greenspaces. They weren’t wild like a forest or national park, but rather carefully manicured, perfectly flat, grassed areas with rings of trees chosen to provide shade and benches scattered strategically throughout. It was easy to imagine a game of soccer being played there by bored teens or a family reunion picnic – though there were enough guards patrolling the area that it was pretty clear the park wasn’t open to all of Wycome’s residents, only their wealthier ones.

“I heard the innkeeper say there’s some sort of huge festival here every few weeks,” Avanna muttered when she caught me staring. “Wycome being the ‘revelry capital of Thedas’, apparently.” She snorted, her opinion of that title obvious.

I raised an eyebrow. “And why, pray tell, was the rather taciturn innkeeper regaling you with all of this terribly fascinating information about Wycome?”

She flushed, and I laughed. “Never mind. Did he tell you anything about the market?”

We spent a couple of enjoyable hours wandering through an open air market, looking at everything from local produce to imported silks, hand made pastries to exotic weapons. I picked up some sweets to take back to the inn for Alistair, and a second, thin stiletto dagger for my other forearm to match the one Zevran gave me. I bought meat pies for lunch for the three of us, and a bottle of Antivan wine for Zevran and Aedan when they returned.

The market was swarming with people, just like the one in Denerim always is; there were other nobles with guards following, shoppers from every walk of life haggling with the various vendors, small groups of soldiers – probably mercenaries, I decided based on the mismatched armour, and messengers darting through the crowd with bags held tightly to their chests. And, of course, the obligatory beggars, sitting or lying in every nook and alley, cups held out hopefully. I went to put a few coins in a hat held by a small, filthy child squatting between two market stalls, but Avanna gave me an emphatic head shake and dropped a couple of her own coppers once she was satisfied I was far enough away.

I finally got tired, and turned to suggest we head back to the inn, when I felt someone brush up against me from behind. No stranger to those sorts of tactics, I grabbed for my money pouch – already gone, the strings hanging empty from my belt – and turned to shout. Before I even managed an outraged squawk, Avanna had an elf – a young woman with mousy brown hair and a messenger’s outfit that let her blend effortlessly into the crowd – by the neck, pressed up against the nearest wall, a dagger drawn but held to the side where casual observers wouldn’t see it.

“Please, messere, wait, what are you—” the elf pleaded with Avanna, trying to act innocent, her eyes wide and guileless.

Avanna ignored her, gesturing to my other guard, who grabbed the girl while Avanna rifled through her pockets rather ruthlessly. “Aha. I think we’ll just be returning this to my Lady.” She turned and handed me back the small pouch of coin I usually kept at my waist. She continued to ignore the elf, whose words had gone from denial to begging, tears pooling in her eyes.

I fingered the pouch thoughtfully as I examined the young woman being held in front of me. As I looked closer, I could see she was painfully thin, clearly malnourished, with crooked teeth that were blackened in places, skin so pale as to be almost translucent, with dark bags under each eye. Her hair cut was uneven, her hands dirty, her nails broken and ragged. Her clothes were two sizes too big but had obviously been taken in so she wasn’t swimming in them. I idly wondered who she’d stolen them from, even as I winced at her obvious abject poverty.

Avanna, by contrast, looked furious. “Shall I call the city guard?” I put a hand on my guard captain’s shoulder, nervous that she might actually cause the girl physical harm.

The elf’s tears overflowed at the mention of the guard, reaching her hands up in supplication. “No, please, I’m sorry, my Lady.” She wiped at her tears, succeeding only in smearing the dirt from her hands onto her face. “Please don’t call the guard. They’ll hang me for sure. Please. I’m just trying to take care of my little brother. He’ll die without me. Please.”

Like she knew I was a sucker for the argument, Avanna slumped. “You can’t just let her go!” Her tone was outraged.

I almost laughed, but it wasn’t really funny. “Is she lying?” Avanna didn’t respond. “Is she? Will they hang her?” Reluctantly Avanna nodded. I turned to the girl again, and inspiration struck. “Do you live in the Alienage?” The elf bobbed her head almost comically. “Come back to the inn with us, and afterwards I’ll let you go. I have a ... proposal for you.” Her eyes widened fearfully, and it occurred to me how bad that could sound. “Just talk. I promise no one will hurt you. We won’t even touch you, I swear. One conversation, and I’ll let you go. I’ll even throw in this pouch as a reward.”

I tossed the coin pouch lightly, letting her hear the coins clink. I’d learned from Duncan never to keep all my coin in the same place; I kept a small pouch with only a few silvers at my belt, and kept the rest of my money tucked away somewhere much more secure. He’d taught me that if you didn’t have a pouch visible, thieves were more likely to look further, so a few coins you could live without was a small price to pay to keep everything else safe. Of course, the elf had no way of knowing what was in the purse – and even a few silvers was probably more than she’d had in a while. Her eyes followed the leather sack closely as it flew above my palm.