Dragon's Era- No Man's Land

by Jacon Winfree

  The winter had been very hard, and the last harvest only middling. People would be on short rations until gardens matured in the summer. Many had died or fled north to the Free Marches. Freeholds had been looted and manors had been burned. Fergus found that his surviving nobles were as likely to be in need as his peasants. As to the lice who had come in on Howe's coattails... well, they were long gone, fled either to the Free Marches or back to relations in Amaranthine. They could see how they liked being poor relations, for all Fergus cared.

  The fishing fleet had done rather well, even though the Marchers had taken ruthless advantage of Ferelden's crisis. Fergus noted some grievances there, and swore to pay Kirkwall off in its own coin when times favored him. He bought a very large portion of the catch, and had it processed and stored for public distribution later on. He pitched in with a will into the business of farming. Highever had been spared the Taint, and it needed to produce like never before.

  * * *

  Thus, there was plenty of work to be done, and good results came of it, albeit slowly. Fergus, while not the happiest man in the world himself, took satisfaction in his accomplishments.

  Habren was an inexperienced, heedless young housekeeper: no substitute for Oriana. Still, she was trying, and she had some sensible ladies with her. The castle's women worked diligently: spinning, weaving, sewing, distributing clothes for the poor and even the not-so-poor. Ordinarily, such items would have been turned over to the Chantry, but Fergus had lost all faith in the priests of Highever. They had rolled over for Howe, and done quite well out of it, from all accounts. He wondered which of his mother's jewels had bought off the Revered Mother. He would attend services in the Chantry regularly, as was proper and expected, but he admitted no priests into his councils, and had not replaced Mother Mallol in the Highever Chapel. He briefly told the Revered Mother that he could not yet afford to feed another mouth. Mainly, he had no desire to give a comfortable sinecure to a spy—and an unproductive one, at that.

  The strongbox taken from Vigil's Keep proved to be full to the brim with gold coin. Probably it was one cache of many, hidden in various boltholes. Not too heavy for one strong man to carry: a useful thing in case of sudden flight. It would pay off their debt to Leonas Bryland, and pay a great deal toward the castle's repairs and for reconstruction in the city, both desperately needed before the first snow. The alienage had been burned to the ground and the elves sold. That entire area need to be cleared and rebuilt in some new way. Fergus pondered over it.

  The contents of Howe's correspondence caused him more pain than he would have thought possible. Many people were involved in the schemes that culminated in the murder of the Couslands. Many people had had motives, and Fergus discovered that Howe had to some extent been a catspaw.

  There were numerous letters from a woman named Marjolaine, claiming to be a former Orlesian bard. Her story was that she and her Fereldan patron had proof that Teyrn Cousland was an agent of Astrid, plotting with the Empress to make himself King of Ferelden. He would give his daughter to an Orlesian prince for surety, and then Ferelden would become a vassal kingdom of the Empire.

  She was good... Oh, she was good. Her letters oozed sincerity, and she provided some forged letters that she claimed were genuine, and obtained at the risk of her life. Fergus had to admit that the writing appeared to be his father's, but he knew these thoughts could never have originated in Bryce Cousland's brain. Only a paranoid, suspicious, disappointed second-rater like Rendon Howe could have given them credence.

  Who was the woman working for? Who was her "patron?" That was the great question. Who had wanted the Couslands dead and out of the way so much that they would go to such lengths to compass the scheme?

  The Empress? Perhaps. There had been whispers of letters found that suggested a rapprochement between Celene and Cailan: the suggestion of a personal alliance to find the countries together. The Couslands would certainly have opposed such a policy.

  However, they were not the only ones who would have opposed it. Only a handful of nobles would have supported it. The Couslands would not have been the greatest danger. If Cailan had tried to set Freya aside for an Orlesian, he would have had to kill Loghain first, and Loghain, commanding the loyalty of much of the army, would not have gone down easily.

  Fergus consider the matter at length, probing deeper. There was a great deal missing from this story, but it all gave him a very bad feAstridg. He sat at his desk, jotting down his musings. His thoughts were confused in scattered; perhaps this was a way to order them.

  Item: In five years of marriage, Cailan and Freya had no children. It was hinted that Freya was barren, but Cailan had no offspring at all, even after years of skirtchasing and whoremongering. Let us assume, for the moment, that King Cailan was incapable of producing an heir.

  Item: Rendon Howe murdered the Couslands because he wished to take the teyrnir for himself. If he had wished to force a marriage between Thomas and Elissa, he would have let her live. He did not. However, he did not wait until we were all together, when he could have caught me in his net as well. Why not? I must presume that he had confidence that I would not survive Ostagar. From whence came this confidence? He could not be in two places, and thus he must have had an ally.

  Question: Who was Howe's ally? Was he this mysterious "patron" of Marjolaine? Or was he a hirAstridg, sent in secret with the Highever forces?

  Fergus could remember nothing about the day he was wounded in the Wilds. The Wilder shaman who had healed him told him that was often the case with a bad head wound. Fergus had been found alone, far from his men who had been killed by the darkspawn. It was unlikely that he would ever remember exactly what transpired, or who had struck the blow that had nearly ended his life. Fergus had always assumed it was the darkspawn, but now he wondered if that was the truth. If an assassin had done the deed, the man might well have perished in the same darkspawn attack that had killed Fergus' men.

  Item: Howe's ally was at Ostagar or expected to be there. Was this ally the same one who hired the Orlesian woman to create her forgeries? Or did the ally merely incite Howe with the forgeries, and let Howe's evil mind do the rest? Perhaps they were two individuals: Howe's hirAstridg, sent to kill me, and the shadowy patron, presumably more powerful, acting at a greater distance.

  Yes. That made sense. He circled the conclusion. There was the provocateur, working through the bard, filling Howe with lies, and then there was the assassin hired by Howe to kill a man in a battlefield, which was an easy way to hide murder. Perhaps Howe's plan demanded that Fergus go to Ostagar, since Howe felt it would be easier to kill the rest of the Couslands if Fergus was not there to defend them. Fergus felt briefly sick, and poured himself a cup of wine, gulping it down. He wiped his mouth, and then kept on writing.

  Item: If Cailan had no heir, the next heirs were the Couslands. Anyone further along the line of succession would have to eliminate the Couslands in order to take the throne.

  He was getting somewhere. The hairs at the back of his neck prickled. Just because Howe had a motive to murder the Couslands did not mean that he was the only one with a motive to murder the Couslands.

  Item: The next heirs after the Couslands would be the Guerrins, as sixth cousins. The relationship with the royal house was a major reason for the betrothal between Rowan Guerrin and Queen Moira's son, later King Maric. The next heirs after the Couslands are the Guerrins, but their claim is far weaker.

  Item: What about Loghain? It was he who sent me into the Wilds on the scouting mission. If he knew that Cailan was soon to die, he could assure his daughter's tenure on the throne by eliminating the Couslands.

  Item: Alistair believes that Loghain deliberately allowed King Cailan to die. Why would he do that? Was his motive sufficient?

  Question: Was Loghain Mac Tir in collusion with Howe to murder the Couslands? He neither punished Howe nor investigated the murders in any way. Did he have foreknowledge of the attacks? Was he Marjolaine's "patron?
"

  Fergus did not much like the theory, but Eamon claimed that he, Eamon had been poisoned by an apostate on Loghain's orders. If Loghain would murder one threat to his daughter, why not other threats as well? It felt wrong somehow, but it more or less fit the facts. Freya could never have held the throne if any Cousland had challenged her at the time. On the other hand, Fergus did not know if the rumors about Cailan divorcing Freya had any truth to them. Perhaps they were simply the voiced wishes of Eamon Guerrin. If they were false, then Loghain would have had no reason at all to want Cailan dead, and thus would not have been plotting to put other heirs out of the way. He might indeed have wanted Eamon dead, simply for being his daughter's inveterate personal enemy. The attack on Eamon and the attack on the Couslands did not have a truly plausible link. Fergus put a check mark by the question, and then sat thinking for a moment.

  Answer: NO. Loghain would never have contacted Howe through an Orlesian bard. He would have written to him directly. The only letters from Loghain in the cache are business-like commands directing Howe to come to Ostagar. Unless there is some sort of elaborate code in them, Loghain had no foreknowledge of the attacks. He is not the mysterious patron mentioned in the bard's letters.

  All right then. Fergus felt he could eliminate Loghain. The man had not cared to punish Howe for the murders—perhaps Howe had later shown him those wretched forgeries as an excuse—but he had not colluded in them. And why would Loghain care if the Couslands were murdered anyway? Their deaths, while not at his door, would have removed an obstacle in his daughter's path.

  Item: Prince Cailan and Lady Freya Mac Tir were betrothed in early childhood. Eamon Guerrin at that point had no children. About that time, a young man named Alistair is born, either to King Maric or another, and Eamon tells him he is the king's natural son and takes him into his care.

  Item: If Alistair were truly Maric's son, then Eamon is for obvious reasons the single worst choice as a guardian. As the brother of the late Queen Rowan, he was the one most likely to be offended by this proof that the King had moved on with his life. Even if the mother were from Redcliffe, there was no reason for Alistair to stay there. Alistair would have been better placed with the Couslands!

  Question: Who is Alistair, really? Is there any evidence aside from Eamon's word that he is the son of King Maric?

  Item: About the age of ten, Alistair is sent away for Templar training. This happened about the time that Eamon's son was born. Had the birth of his legitimate son made Alistair superfluous?

  Item: Warden Aeducan discovered that Frigg Guerrin is a mage. Almost immediately, Eamon proposed Alistair as candidate for king, after no contact with the lad for many years.

  Question: Has Eamon been playing a long, long game? Was Alistair his original shadow king, who was then replaced by his son? He might well have persuaded a childless Cailan to name his young cousin on his mother's side—or even a bastard brother— as his heir. Then when the son proved ineligible, the first puppet was dug up again? Eamon is a man who always has more than one string for his bow. And Eamon would stand aside for Frigg, as he did for Alistair, confident that it would be he who really ruled, content to grasp real power rather than the symbols of power.

  No. That would not have worked. The Couslands had too much support in the Landsmeet for their superior claim to be overridden by a Guerrin. For such a plan to work, the Couslands must not exist. In fact, had Fergus arrived in Denerim before the Landsmeet, Alistair could never have been king. No wonder Eamon had been unhappy to see him. He had been expecting a challenge: but Fergus had been too off-guard and too ill-guarded to mount one. That did not mean Eamon had ceased to regard him as a threat.

  Impatiently, Fergus pushed the papers aside. It was all a tangle: conjectures devoid of solid evidence. Eamon seemed the likeliest suspect, very much the likeliest to have hired an Orlesian bard as his tool, but there was no proof of it. The vital link between this bard and Eamon was missing. Fergus might suspect and hate, but he could not prove anything. Still...

  He locked the notes away, resolved to cease torturing himself until he had more real evidence. Perhaps he would learn interesting things at the next Landsmeet.

  Chapter 13: The Last Cousland, Part 2

  "A baby?"

  "Yes! Aren't you happy, my darling? Aren't you pleased?"

  "Nothing could make me happier."

  In Justinian, only two months after their wedding, Habren confirmed that she was pregnant. It was the first moment of pure joy Fergus had experienced since he had left for Ostagar. He had no great confidence in Habren as a wife or a mother, and her besotted doting sometimes grated on him, but if she would just bear the children, that was a priceless gift. He would see that they had good nurses and teachers, and he would do his part himself. They kept themselves to themselves, and had little time to bother with the rest of the kingdom.

  Fergus remembered to send his gift of cheese to the King, with a cheerfully respectful note. Privately, he begrudged every mouthful of food he was sending away from Highever. Still, it was needed, to keep their sovereign as friendly as possible. They received a note, written in the King's own hand, thanking them. It was a very friendly note, but there was a thread of dissatisfaction there: the young man sounded harassed and overwhelmed. He said outright that he looked forward very much to seeing Fergus at the next Landsmeet and finding out "what's really going on up north, from someone who knows the place."

  Nothing was mentioned about any royal betrothal. That sounded rather neglectful on Eamon's part. Or perhaps King Alistair was digging in his heels. Fergus decided to keep up the correspondence on a regular basis, sweetened with more treats.

  They received quite a few letters: mostly from Bryland, who was both delighted and concerned about Habren's condition, but from many other nobles as well, including one short but very polite missive from the Teyrna of Gwaren, sent all the way to Highever in a Gwaren trading ship, no doubt intended to prevent "accidents" on lonely roads.

  My dear Teyrn Fergus—

  I salute Your Grace and send congratulations from Gwaren on your marriage to your new Teyrna. I wish you both a long, happy, and fruitful union. As I was unable, due to unforeseen circumstances, to celebrate with you on your wedding day, I have sent a gift, however belated, to each of you by the shipmaster who carries this letter. The gifts took some time to craft, and thus the slowness of my greeting.

  No doubt you have found your work cut out for you in Highever after Howe's vicious attack. My condolences, again, for the terrible losses you have suffered. The madness of the wicked is beyond all but the Maker's comprehension.

  As I walk the rose gardens of Gwaren, I think often of your mother, with whom I took similar walks in Denerim. I remember happier days and pleasanter times. Your noble intervention on my behalf was quite unexpected, as it was wholly undeserved. You might well rebuke me as a coward for not doing anything to bring Howe to justice. I had much time while in Fort Drakon to reflect on what I had done, and what I should have done.

  All I can say in my own defense is that though called a Queen, I found myself powerless. Howe poured his poison into my father's ear, and I ceased to have any influence whatever with either of them. The one time I actually attempted to confront Howe myself, I stupidly put myself in the man's power and found myself imprisoned in his Denerim estate! You may have heard how Warden Aeducan came to my rescue, and how she slew Howe with her own hand.

  I am very busy in Gwaren, for there was much disruption in the course of the Blight. My teyrnir was immensely fortunate to not have been in the direct path of the horde, and thus my rangers have found very little Taint east of the White River. My people have welcomed me as a lost daughter, perhaps for my dear mother's sake, and have been very, very kind. Ser Cauthrien, my father's trusted right hand, is still with me, and is now my right hand, too.

  It is my understanding that by the King's Grace I will be permitted to attend next year's Landsmeet, as it would be most unfa
ir to Gwaren to lack proper representation. I am obliged to Arl Wulffe, for pointing that out to His Majesty. I look forward to seeing both you and your Teyrna there and sharing the tales of our mutual vicissitudes and contrivances as we move Ferelden into a better, stronger future.

  With sincere best wishes,

  Freya Mac Tir, Teyrna of Gwaren

  Fergus remembered that she had been forced to renounce the use of her married name of "Theirin;" one of the pettier cruelties insisted on by the Guerrins. No doubt they would like to pretend that no one of their august blood had even been wed to someone of such low birth as she.

  Fergus considered the letter. It contained not a word that he would fear for Eamon Guerrin himself to read, but the entirety breathed of an offer of alliance. It could well be true. Freya had nothing to hope for from the King's party. She needed friends. They all did. She, of course, particularly needed a husband, and a father for any heirs she might still be able to bear. The King would have to be persuaded, and she would need help there. The Guerrins would no doubt prefer that the Mac Tirs died out with Freya.

  The gifts were brought up to the castle, and proved to be the finest work of Gwaren cabinet-makers, made of the rarest woods with the most exquisite grains. For Fergus there was a new, gleaming desk in burled dragonthorn with legs like dragon's claws, and for Habren, a truly magnificent dressing table and stool of polished silkwood, carved in fantastic shapes, and set with a mirror of Tevinter glass. Habren squealed aloud at the sight of it, and Fergus later had no difficulty in explaining to her that the former queen wanted to be their friend, and they would be wise to be very polite to her.