Ahhh, the first chapter that’s mostly from Nate’s point of view! How nice. I forgot what a sarcastic bastard he was. Love that guy, big Howe nose and all.
Apparently there is a Ghost in the Shell game coming to Steam?????????
Chapter 2
They buried Mhairi early the next morning; Queen Anora was present, and left to return to Denerim soon after, wishing Elizabeth good fortune one more time.
One of the first things she wished to do as soon as Anora was gone was to familiarize herself with the entire castle, from top to bottom, and Elra went with her, and another soldier, Mia – Garevel didn’t seem to want her to be on her own, even though the castle had been made secure. As far as she knew, Varel and Garevel had taken care of blocking up the path from which they believed the darkspawn had emerged, at least until it could be investigated further. It was a little worrying to be sitting upon such a thing, but there wasn’t anything more that could be done instantly.
So Elizabeth talked with Elra and Mia as they began in the highest towers, taking in the view of the surrounding countryside with the aid of maps. Elra only admired the view, but Elizabeth tried to see it from a strategic standpoint – from one direction, she had a clear view of the ocean. The back of the castle was set against a mountain. In the distance on the other side were rivers and fields and forests and hills, and right under the castle ran the road to Amaranthine.
They descended, and although Elizabeth asked about secret passages, Mia did not know of any, so she resolved to ask Varel later. There was no way Vigil’s Keep did not have secret passages, and she needed to know them.
When she arrived in the courtyard, she remembered. “Mia, I was told that Nathaniel Howe was a prisoner here.”
“Yes, my lady. The Captain threw him in a storage shed rather than the prison because no one had cleared out the prisons.”
“So the prisons were full of stores, and the storage shed became a prison?” Elizabeth asked, amused.
“That’s what I was told, my lady.”
“Hmm,” Elizabeth said. The way Mia said it meant she didn’t believe it, that there was another reason for it. “Ah, hello, Master Wade, Herren. How are you this morning?”
“We are well, thank you, my lady,” Herren said. “Just investigating the smithy here. I think it will be quite adequate for our needs.”
“For boring, regular swords and armour, perhaps,” Wade wailed. “But not for true art! I must have a bigger forge, a harder anvil!”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “Both in getting you better equipment, and for… special projects. But for now, can’t you start with regular swords and armour? I need to know where best to spend my resources and I might not be able to get them to you right away. And if made by you, Vigil’s Keep will be the best-equipped force in Ferelden.”
“Oh, all right,” Wade said, pouting. “If it’s for you, then I suppose I can put up with it.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “I’m counting on you.”
As she turned away, her eyes fell on the storage shed, and Anders nearby, playing with a kitten. “Elra, I’m going to go talk to Howe. You and Mia should go back inside. Perhaps inform Seneschal Varel of what I am about to do.”
Mia saluted. “Right away, ser!”
“I hope you’re all right, my lady,” Elra said anxiously.
“I’ll be fine,” Elizabeth said. “I… just hope I don’t get too angry. He is a Howe, after all.” Come to think of it, why did she not want to get too angry?
Because she knew nothing of Nathaniel Howe. She couldn’t even remember if she had met him. Perhaps once when she was a little girl. He had been in the Free Marches for many years, training in body and mind, Rendon had told her father before he had betrayed them.
And of Rendon’s other children, she knew little. Thomas, the youngest, even younger than she was, had died fighting the Blight. The middle child, Delilah, she knew nothing of either.
Rendon had been reasonably pleasant right up until the moment he had betrayed and murdered her family, after which he had proved himself utterly corrupt and egomaniacal, bitter, resentful, and poisonous. It was partly due to him, she was sure, that Loghain Mac Tyr had gone from being the noble Hero of River Dane to using underhanded tricks to control Ferelden, hunting down the last Grey Wardens, and almost plunging the nation into civil war on top of the Blight. Although, Loghain’s prejudices against Orlesians were all his own.
Were Rendon’s children as bitter and self-serving as their father?
Why had Nathaniel Howe come to Vigil’s Keep in the first place?
The door opened and she stepped in. Not in armour, although her sword was sheathed at her side. I glanced up at her briefly and then looked away again. There was no chance I would give her the satisfaction of staring at her, even in curiosity.
Although I was curious about her. I knew a little. On the eve of the Blight, my father had discovered that her father, Bryce Cousland, was a traitor planning to ally with the Orlesians they had fought together in their youth, and had killed him and sacked Highever in a surprise attack. Elizabeth Cousland, the younger child, had escaped somehow, became a Grey Warden, and had admittedly done splendidly in actually fighting the Blight, gathering an army, uniting the squabbling nobles and preventing a civil war – although she was also the executioner of Loghain Mac Tyr, the Hero of River Dane and Regent of Ferelden after King Cailan got his own silly self killed in the Battle of Ostagar at the beginning of the Blight… but then she put Loghain’s daughter, Anora, on the throne.
She was undoubtedly the woman who led Ferelden to victory over the Blight. It was even said that she had faced the Archdemon who led the Blight and killed it, and survived. An impressive record for a nineteen year old girl.
She had still broken in to the Arl of Denerim’s palace where my father had taken residence, and murdered him in retaliation for her father’s death.
On one hand, I couldn’t blame her. If her father had killed my father, I would have undoubtedly acted the same. On the other hand… I admired my father, and she was his killer.
“If it isn’t the great Hero, Conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all evil,” I said sarcastically, not looking at her, and heard her stiffen. “Aren’t you supposed to be ten feet tall with lightning shooting out of your eyes?”
“Whoever told you that was drunk,” she said. “It’s my sword that shoots lightning, not my eyes.”
Finally I looked – glared, more like – up at her. “Just thought my father’s murderer would be more impressive.”
“He murdered my father first,” she cried. “He betrayed him and slaughtered everyone in Castle Highever. Does getting my revenge make me a murderer on the same level as him!?”
“Your father was going to sell us out to the Orlesians!” I cried, getting to my feet angrily. “My father had cause!”
“Is that what he told you?” she snapped.
“Someone killed him before he could tell me anything,” I said bitterly.
She took a deep breath and let it out again. Her eyes were still flashing when she looked at me again, but her voice was a little more controlled. “Why did you come here?”
I laughed, still bitterly. “I wanted to kill you, at first. But… I changed my mind. It doesn’t matter anymore. The Howes are pariahs in Ferelden now and nothing I do will change that. …Revenge… seems empty now. I just wanted my things.”
She raised her chin a little as she regarded me. “I don’t know you, Nathaniel Howe. I don’t want to fight you like I fought your father. If I give you your things and let you go, what will you do?”
“I’d probably come back,” I said, low and threatening. “And you might not catch me next time. I heard all your Grey Wardens were killed in that attack, and they were the only ones who managed to capture me.”
“You’re not making a very good case for yourself,” she said coldly.
I snorted. “Like I care anymore.”
“And what if I make you a Warden?” she demanded.
I started in surprise. “You wouldn’t.”
“I can and I would,” she said.
“Hang me, first,” I cried, interrupting her.
“Did I say I was giving you a choice!?”
“You want a Grey Warden who wants you dead? I thought Wardens were supposed to be close as brothers.”
“Some of my best friends used to want me dead.”
“And I suppose my father is on the top of that list of friends,” I growled.
She grabbed the front of my shirt, yanking me into the wooden bars of my cage. I snarled at her and she snarled back. What a transformation, from a rather pretty girl to such an ugly demon. But… the way she stared at me… it was almost as if she was searching for something. Those pale blue eyes were disconcerting in their intensity, and so very serious behind her fury.
Whatever she found there, she let go of me and whirled, striding to the door swiftly and flinging it open. “Get me Varel!”
Varel, was it? I’d heard about him in my father’s letters. A competent seneschal, but not a terribly obedient one. My father had dismissed him a few years ago for being difficult, then thrown him in prison for being rebellious. So the Grey Wardens had reinstated him. While I wished no ill on the Wardens themselves, I felt a petty little satisfaction that Elizabeth Cousland had to deal with him.
Except, when Varel appeared, there appeared to be no difficulty on either side at all. “Varel! I’m invoking Conscription for Nathaniel Howe.”
Varel blinked, surprised at her proposal, though not her vehemence. “Very well, Commander. I will prepare. …Are you certain?”
“Yes,” she said shortly. “Bring him to a private room in the castle.”
So she would either gain my strength for her forces whether I willed it or no, or I would die in the attempt. …A reasonable revenge, and… very fair, actually. I wasn’t sure what to make of it yet. In truth, I was mostly resisting the idea because she was the one offering it to me. The idea that she would show me mercy when she showed none to my father was… humiliating to me.
Guards came, opening the door of my cell and chaining my hands in front of me. They led me into the castle, to a little chamber near the Great Hall. Varel was there, with a silver chalice in front of him, and Elizabeth was there, crossing her arms and glowering. She gestured sharply for the guards to leave and closed and locked the door herself, trusting that I would not attempt to attack her, apparently. “I wanted to do this for Loghain, back in the Blight, but someone wouldn’t let me,” she muttered to herself resentfully.
“Would you have done it for my father,” I spat back, and had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes flash and her fists clench. I almost thought she was going to fly at me, but she restrained herself and began to rattle off a rapid list of things.
“When you become a Grey Warden, you will have nightmares, you will have a shorter lifespan than normal humans, you will be infertile, you will be part of an ancient brotherhood devoted to protecting the weak and slaying monsters, you will be able to sense said monsters, you are not permitted to tell anyone about most of this, et cetera, et cetera.”
I blinked, trying to take in all the information she was flinging at me. “Sounds like fun,” I said sarcastically.
Varel gave her the silver chalice, and she presented it to me, a little bit abruptly, but clearly trying to return herself to some sense of decorum. This was the most important part, then. She took a deep breath, and her expression eased a little.
“Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and we shall join you one day.”
I reached out with my chained hands and took the chalice from her. There was no point in backing down here. The chalice was filled with what looked like black blood, thick and foul-smelling. “Moment of truth,” I murmured.
“From this moment on, you are a Grey Warden,” she said as I raised the cup and drank from it.
The instant it touched my tongue, it felt like my body was on fire. I felt myself convulse, and the cup fell from my hands. I heard it clang on the floor, and then strong hands caught me as I followed it.
I could hear and feel no more; all I felt was fire, and all I could hear was the rushing of a great wind and the howling of demonic voices.
I saw…
I saw a dragon.
“He will live,” Varel said to her as she crouched over Nathaniel’s unconscious body. She didn’t know why she had gone to catch him rather than the cup this time, but she had done it without thinking.
“That’s good,” she said softly. “I… do not think he is like his father. At least, not like his father in his middle age.”
“You think Rendon Howe was a better man in his youth?” Varel asked, cleaning the chalice.
“I’m quite certain of it,” she said. “My father was always good at telling when people wished to deceive him at the Landsmeet, but he never suspected Howe, which means… Howe was a devious, clever man, to be sure, but he also had my family’s trust. My father based that trust on something, on the friendship they had during the Rebellion, and so he didn’t notice when he changed slowly… None of us did. But Nathaniel… seems honourable. He didn’t kill anyone when he broke in here, as you said, and his eyes… He has pride, but not avarice or envy, that I can tell.”
“Well, we’ll see when he wakes up,” Varel said.
“Yes, put him in a proper room, and return his weapons and armour to him,” Elizabeth said. “I will show him trust, and he will return it that far, I know he will. I shall continue to explore the castle.”
“You are going into the cellars next, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Perhaps I’ll find the hole the darkspawn crawled out of.”
“Very good, Commander.”
Vigil’s Keep was one of the oldest places in Ferelden, older even than Denerim and its castle Fort Drakon. Long before the Tevinter Imperium came to Ferelden’s shores, the Avvar barbarians held it as a sacred place. And when the Tevinter did come, it became a stronghold, with a high tower with a beacon to see the ocean from and the Tevinter ships that came invading, and to warn the inland villages. The Avvar were long gone, and the castle that stood there was not more than 300 years old, a much more modern structure designed to weather all but the most furious and drawn-out assault or siege.
Unless, apparently, it came from below.
She asked Oghren to come with her, and found a deep series of passages below the castle, burial crypts, places of residence, long, twisting, low tunnels. She was a little afraid of getting lost, so she took her torch and marked signs for herself on the walls to guide her return. The crypts felt unquiet, as if there might still be spirits awake there, so she stayed away from them for now.
And at the very bottom of the maze, she found a deep chasm.
“Huh,” Oghren grunted. “Looks like it’s headed to the Deep Roads. Look, there used to be a ladder here. Those Grey Wardens weren’t very bright if they didn’t know about this or do something about it.”
“I wonder where it goes,” Elizabeth said. “But we can’t explore farther this way for now. How good are darkspawn at climbing?”
Oghren chuckled. “No better and no worse than most others. Although I think shrieks are pretty good at it. Ogres, as you might guess, no good at all. Probably why we didn’t see any of those when you showed up.”
“We’ll ask Glavonak for his advice,” Elizabeth said.
When she returned to the surface, she was met by a panting soldier, who handed her two small missives. One was a plea from a minor noble to aid his daughter, kidnapped by bandits for a ransom he couldn’t afford, and one was a plea from another minor noble who had seen darkspawn on his lands and did not have the soldiers to defend them – or even his own family. Both were extremely urgent.
She called Varel. “What I would do is take a small group to save this girl, and send Garevel with some soldiers to assist the farmers. However… I’m not yet familiar with this place…”
“Don’t be hesitant,” Varel advised her. “I’m only concerned that if we send soldiers, our fortress will be left even less defended than it stands now.”
“True. But the farmers have no walls to hide behind, and that’s why we’re here, after all.”
“You are a compassionate leader,” Varel said approvingly. “I’ll sort things with Garevel. Who do you wish to accompany you to rescue the girl?”
“Oghren and Anders, of course, and… if you’re not busy…”
Varel smiled. “I am busy, but I would be honoured to accompany you at least this one time.”
“I don’t think we’ll get to Amaranthine City to begin searching for Kristoff today,” she said with a rueful sigh. “Tomorrow, then. For certain.”
When I woke up again, I felt awful. My body was no longer on fire, but I was horribly weak. I rolled over and tried to sleep again.
The next time I woke up, it was early morning and I felt much better, not to mention a tiny bit grateful to the Maker that I was alive, although… I was kind of resentful of it, too. Why should I be alive, when my father and brother were not? Why should I be alive, and in her service?
When I got up, I found that my armour and swords were lying on a storage chest next to my bed. So she really was going to trust me. Interesting.
I put it all on and peeked out of the room. Not so much as a guard. Very interesting.
What would I do, then? For good or for ill, I was a Grey Warden. Whatever that meant.
Vigil’s Keep was much the same as it was when I grew up in it; I probably knew the halls better than anyone else there. I walked through the quiet halls in the early morning. I heard voices from the Great Hall and peered in, taking care not to be seen. Elizabeth and Varel were already awake, it seemed. I avoided the hall and went out the side door, going out to the east wall to be alone with my thoughts.
Firstly: my father was still dead, and I was still alive. No amount of regret or vengeance or hating Elizabeth would bring him back, and I did not think that spending that energy on hating her would be useful, nor would it make me happy. She had killed him, and she clearly felt that she had cause, and that… was that, to some extent. She didn’t seem like a bad person, other than that. I had deliberately goaded her during our conversation, and she had not lashed out at me the way I would have expected her to. She had been angry, certainly, furious, even, but she was not crazy.
I glowered moodily at the distant ocean. Then there was the issue of my being a Grey Warden. It wasn’t that I hated the idea. My great-grandfather had wanted to be a Warden. Might even have been a Warden. It was just distasteful that it was at her command, although since she was the one with the power in what had once been my home, it was her right, I supposed. It was still a big change in the direction of my life, and not one I had particularly asked for.
Did I want to be dead? When I told her I’d rather be hanged, was I telling the truth?
No, I decided. I was strong enough to survive the Joining, obviously. That meant I was strong enough to keep surviving. She said I’d have a shortened lifespan, but I’d make the most of what I had. And being a Grey Warden came with high ideals – to protect others, even with my life. I liked that. It was what I had always wanted to do.
That didn’t mean I was happy at this exact moment. My home was filled with strangers, my father was killed in his own stronghold – my mother was dead five years by now, taken by sickness – my younger sister Delilah was missing, and my youngest sibling, my brother Thomas, had died fighting in the Blight against the darkspawn. And even if I knew where Delilah was, what could I do for her, with our family shamed as it was?
What could I do for anyone?
I looked over to see Elizabeth climbing the stairs towards me, obviously coming to talk to me. I thought of moving away to avoid her – even a brief, foolish thought of fighting her – but I supposed now was as good a time as any to speak with her.
She stopped a few paces away from me, leaning on the wall as I was, awkwardly not looking at me. Her armour was very odd. None of it matched any other part, not her helmet that hung from her belt, her platemail, nor her gloves and boots. After a long silence, she said: “…Hello.”
I had to glance at her after such a beginning. She was fidgeting with her gloves slightly. Nice gloves, probably drakeskin, of the highest workmanship… She was nervous. Nervous of me? Really? “Hello yourself.”
After another rather long silence, I said: “So what am I to call you, now? Commander?”
“Elizabeth is fine,” she said quietly.
“…Why did you come up here?”
“…I came to see how you were doing.”
I snorted, half in annoyed exasperation, half in amusement. “You are such a Cousland.”
She glanced up at me then, uncertainty writ large across her face. “What do you mean?”
“I know you’ve had the best in courtly training. Yet no one in your family was ever one for small talk. Your father, your brother… even your mother, all so practical.”
She smiled a tiny smile. “You’re right. Well, then. How are you?”
I glared at the ocean. “I’m… well, I suppose. I did not expect you to ask such a thing.”
She turned to look at me head-on, seeming to brace herself slightly. “Nathaniel. I said yesterday that I don’t want to fight you – to be your enemy. So… if you can forgive me for what I have done against your family, I…”
“You’d forgive me for the sins of my father?” I asked sardonically.
“I already have,” she said. “Or at least I’m trying to. It’s a little difficult when you frown so.”
“Oh?”
“It makes you look more like him.”
I grimaced. “How unfortunate for me.”
She paused. “Were you… close?”
I had to think about that. There wasn’t any harm in being honest with her, was there? “For the last ten years or so, I have been training in the Free Marches as a squire and a knight. So I suppose not. But… when I was a boy, yes, I looked up to him very much.”
“I see,” she said softly.
This was taking me down mental paths that were dangerous. “Was there something else you wanted, Commander?”
“Right.” She straightened. She was tall for a woman. I still had a few inches on her but it would be difficult to loom over her… if ever I wanted to. “I’m going to investigate a missing Grey Warden who disappeared two weeks ago with Oghren, Anders, and Varel. He might lead us to the rest of the Grey Wardens who vanished in the attack two nights ago.”
“Understood.” She nodded and turned to go. Had she really come all this way up here to tell me that? “Commander.”
She turned, startled. “Yes?”
“I’d like to volunteer to accompany you. Varel would probably be of more use to you here, and maybe we don’t trust each other, and I still don’t like you, but I would… like to help.”
Her expression lightened, almost but not quite to the point of smiling. “I know from rumour that you are a good fighter.”
“I’m an archer and a swordfighter,” I said, nodding. “If you care to test me on the sparring ground, I’ll take you on.”
She did smile then. “I accept.”
Her smile only grew as she led the way down to the side of the courtyard where the soldiers were training. With a wave, she cleared them out of the ring, then turned to me and drew her sword and shield.
“No training weapons?” I asked.
She tilted her head, then nodded and unslung her helmet from her belt and put it on her head. Now properly prepared, she raised an eyebrow at me. “What, you’re not good enough to withhold your true strength?”
I eyed her crackling blue-purple sword. “I’m not keen on touching that with my own swords.”
“It seems to respond to my will,” she said. “It won’t give you more than a mild zap.” She touched the blade with her other hand and didn’t react.
I shrugged. “I suppose I can chance it, then.” I drew my twin swords. “Ready when you are.”
She glanced over to the side of the field, where a number of wide-eyes recruits, the dwarf Oghren, and a sergeant were watching with avid interest. The sergeant came to hasty attention. “Pret… en garde… allez!”
And she was charging at me. She covered the distance between us faster than I had expected, and I had to sidestep quickly to avoid getting hit squarely with her shield. But she anticipated my sidestep too, and I had to block with both swords as her sword sliced down towards me. I felt a tiny jolt from her sword, but nothing to really bother me, as she had said. Although if this match went on for longer than ten minutes, it could get annoying.
I had to jump back, reassess the situation. She was good. I had known that from seeing her fight the darkspawn, but fighting her myself, that was something else. I had reach, weight, strength, and age on her, and she was pushing me back. No wonder the Grey Wardens had appointed her their commander…
But I wasn’t too shabby myself, and I felt the hint of a grin begin to blossom on my face as I made my own move towards her, one sword on offence, one on defence.
She responded both to my attacks and to my grin, matching every strike I made and making some of her own, being forced to give ground and then reclaiming it with a vengeance.
“Kick his ass, Eliza!” Oghren bellowed with a giggle.
“Working on it,” she said, a little breathlessly.
“Work harder,” I said, slashing low at her legs, and she skipped backwards. As I adjusted my stance, she feinted, then kicked. “Oh, very tricksy, Commande-”
Her shield met my face and I fell onto my back, stunned.
Oghren guffawed. “Do you do that to all the boys, Eliza?”
She ignored him, sheathing her sword and offering me her hand. I hesitated for a moment, then took it and climbed back to my feet, feeling my nose. “Are you all right? I didn’t break your nose, did I?”
“I think you might have,” I said, slightly stifled, and she flushed with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you that hard…”
“She hit her boyfriend like that when she met him, too,” Oghren called, and she blushed more.
“Oghren, remember what I told you,” she said warningly, and to my surprise, the dwarf shut up, though not without a big grin. “Nathaniel, you’d better go see Ambassador Cera. She’ll heal you. I won’t take you on this mission unless you have no injuries.”
I managed a slight smile. “I will do that. Thank you, Commander. It was… fun.” And that was the truth. Whether or not I felt friendly towards her, whether or not we could overcome our inadvertent past, we could enjoy sparring together, and that was one thing.
“Yes, it was fun,” she agreed quietly, and smiled – and if she was ugly when she snarled, she really was quite pretty when she smiled.
We set out for Amaranthine after I had my nose healed. It took a few hours, as we were going on foot. I wasn’t terribly fond of any of my traveling companions – Oghren was crude, the mage Anders enjoyed playing the part of a fool, and I had no current wish to talk to Elizabeth. So I remained at the back of the group, although I won’t say I didn’t enjoy Anders spinning tales of outlandish monsters disguised as ordinary household objects to spook the dwarf.
The walls of Amaranthine eventually rose before us, to my relief. I wondered if anyone would recognize me, and hoped that they wouldn’t. I wondered if they would recognize Elizabeth, if she had been here before.
Apparently she hadn’t, as she had to endure several common cat-callers on her way through the huts on the outskirts of the city. Oghren growled at them but she ignored them with a face so blank I would actually have thought she was deaf. At the gates, she introduced herself to the gate guard, who at first attempted to check them for smuggled goods, and when he realized she wasn’t joking about being Commander of the Grey, hastily sent for his captain. The captain’s name was Constable Aidan, and I vaguely remembered him from when I still lived here before.
He welcomed her, with practical but courteous words, to the city. His gaze flickered as it passed across me, and I wondered if Elizabeth would give him my name.
She did not, and we entered the city. I went to ask her about it. “Why did you shield me?”
She blinked at me, apparently not comprehending me for a moment, then understanding dawned on her face. “I didn’t even think about that. I apologize. Do you know him?”
“I know of him, and I recognize his face. I don’t know if he knows me. It’s been about ten years since I was here.”
She nodded. “Changed much?” she asked, referring to the city.
“Not really,” I said, looking around. I glanced back up at the gate behind us now. “They stick traitors’ heads up on that gate, sometimes. I suppose I should be glad my father’s isn’t up there now.”
She looked at me seriously. “Would they really do that to their own former Arl?”
Even I wasn’t sure if I was joking. “Maybe. But it was a year ago. There wouldn’t be much left of it now even if they did.”
She grimaced, apparently finding my morbid humour not to her liking, and moved on.
I moved to follow her, when I suddenly saw a woman staring at us. I stared back at her, and frowned suddenly in concentration, and her face lit up. “De-” I began.
“Nathaniel!” she cried, rushing to me, and I felt my face involuntarily stretch into the widest smile I could manage. She threw herself into my arms and I hugged her tightly. “I’ve missed you, Nathaniel!”
“And I you,” I said, drawing back to look at her. “You’ve grown, haven’t you?”
“Well, I was only sixteen when you left! What took you so long to come back?”
“I know,” I said. “I’ve been worried about you ever since our father…”
She shook her head with a little frown. “Don’t talk about Father.”
I blinked. “What? Why not?”
“You don’t know?” she asked anxiously.
“Things… are complicated,” I said. “The thing I am certain of is that I now serve the woman who killed him.” I gestured slightly to Elizabeth standing a little apart from us. She had been looking happy, until I drew Delilah’s attention to her, when her face became unreadable, but I guessed she was not happy I had brought her into it, and in such a way.
“Oh, you are Lady Cousland,” Delilah exclaimed. “I am happy to meet you. Thank you for saving Ferelden last year!”
Elizabeth looked confused. “You’re… welcome. You’re not angry with me for killing your father?”
Delilah shook her head. “My father…” She stopped. “No, I’m not angry.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “I’m angry. I think. Mostly I’m confused.”
“You’d better come with me, then,” she said. “Come meet my husband. I’ll make you tea and explain everything.”
I looked at Elizabeth, and she nodded. “Go on. I’ll find you when we’re ready to leave.”
“We’ll be at Albert the Grocer’s,” Delilah said, and took my hand like she had when we were children, leading me down the street.