"I hope so!" he called back.
* * *
Of course, Howe wasn't the only scum in Ferelden. They had no sooner marched through the Great Gate, but they found themselves caught up in a riot. An angry mob was gathering to attack the Alienage, swearing to wipe out the elves.
"This is none of our affair," Cauthrien said coldly. "It's a matter for the City Guard, and the Arl of Denerim, who is responsible for them."
Hawke had had about enough of being a good boy. He strode away, wanting to know what was happening.
"What's the matter?" Hawke shouted at one of the men on the fringes of the crowd. "What's going on in the Alienage?"
"An elf whore attacked the young Arl!" the man shouted back. "Decent people aren't safe in their beds!"
Even Cauthrien's soldiers burst out laughing at that one.
Tanna knew quite a bit about the new Arl, Vaughan Kendalls, as it happened.
"Reckon 'people' would be safe enough if they could keep it in their breeches!"
Unfortunately this mob had no sense of humor.
"It's time we did something about these murdering knife-ears!" another man bellowed. "They brought the darkspawn to Ferelden and they spread disease!"
That did attract Cauthrien's attention.
"What are you saying? Is Arl Vaughan dead?"
"No...no..." the man admitted. "But he could have been killed if he hadn't slit the bitch's throat first!"
"Burn them out!" shrilled a woman. "We have to think of our children!"
"Burn them! Burn them!" rose up all around.
"Oh, that's just a terrific idea," sneered Hawke to Cauthrien, "crazy people setting fires in a city that's half wood! Is it our business yet?"
She glared at him, but saw his point. From horseback, she was an even more imposing figure than usual.
"I am Ser Cauthrien Woodhouse, the Regent's lieutenant!" she declared. "Summon the City Guard! It is their place to keep the peace!"
Hawke thought it very likely some of them were in the crowd, well-armed but anonymous in civilian clothes.
"Go to your homes!" Cauthrien ordered. "Burning down the city helps no one! I shall report your grievances to the Queen this very day, and together with the Arl she will punish the guilty!"
There were jeers from the back of the mob. A rock cracked against a soldier's helmet. The crowd surged forward. Cauthrien drew her sword. Hawke thought she looked fairly scary, though how she planned to use a greatsword from horseback he could not imagine.
"That's enough! You have five seconds to disperse or my archers will shoot!" Cauthrien shouted. "Maric's Shield! Formation! Advance!"
Everyone fell into fighting stance and the archers nocked their arrows. Instantly the mob began screaming. They scattered, some cursing the elf-loving soldiers, and others pulling at their children's hands while they ran. Cauthrien led her party up the broad avenue at a slow, ominous walk. Within a minute, there was no one in sight but one drunk, propped up against a wall, who had slept through the entire incident.
"So this is the big surface city," Oghren snorted. "Can't say much for it."
Once they reached the Palace, Cauthrien disappeared, no doubt to talk to the Queen. Tanna took charge, and led the Wardens and their companions back to the Compound. She punched Alistair's arm and gave him a wink, which made the poor lad blush.
"I'd like to see my family," Hawke said.
"I know," she replied, grimacing. "'Course you want to. I'm sure the commander's fixing it all up. You need to see them and tell them about...Carver." She bit her lip, looking very young. "It's all such a damned shame."
"Yes," Hawke agreed. "It is."
"Don't worry. I know you'll see them soon."
* * *
If Mother and Bethany hadn't understood that they were hostages before, they did now.
Hawke was allowed a visit, including one dinner. He was not sure if he was pleased or outraged that his family already knew about Carver. While he had not been permitted to write any letters while they were on their mission, he discovered that Cauthrien had included the news of Carver's death in a message to the Queen. Apparently the Queen herself had broken the news to them, not unkindly. They were sad, but the first agony of grief was over.
Mother blamed him, of course. She did not say so directly, but Hawke could see it in her eye. He was sorry he had nothing better than a used cheesebox for Carver's ashes, but at least he could give them his brother's bag of loot. If they were ever released, they would be able to live on it for a long time. He would have given them his own, if he had trusted their keepers not to take it from them.
He would have liked to have introduced his friends to them, especially Alyson, their cousin, but that was not permitted. Hawke found that ridiculously petty, and said so. It made no difference whatever. At least he was with the ones he loved, and that was something.
"Are you going to see the Queen, Liam?" Bethany asked, rather hesitantly. "We were told that your mission was a great success...other than... you know... Carver. Perhaps she might thank you."
Hawke tried not to snort at that. Leandra pressed her lips together. Bethany glanced at her mother, but forged ahead.
"It's just that...if we could just go outside now and then. It's so stuffy here in these two rooms in the hot weather, and..." She looked at him, misery in her face, and lowered her voice, gesturing at the hard-faced maids. "I don't mean to whine. But...couldn't the servants go somewhere sometimes, instead of watching us, and watching us, and watching us?"
They were well-fed and well-dressed, but tired of never being able to leave the Palace. Even Bowser the mabari looked tired and out of shape. For that matter they could only leave their quarters—a small bedroom they shared, and an equally small parlor— under guard, and then they went only to the Queen's Little Audience Chamber. Bethany had also been allowed to go to the royal library—once—but found it horribly uncomfortable to try to look through the books while being stared at both by her armed guard and by the beady-eyed librarian, who plainly considered it his duty to protect the books from anyone who might want to actually read them.
"I'll do what I can," he promised.
* * *
"It's so damned hard on them to never get outside," Hawke told Alistair afterwards, feAstridg rather bitter about it. "Would it absolutely kill anybody if they were allowed to take a walk? Doesn't the Queen have a garden, or something like that? My brother died for this country, and my mother and sister are treated like dangerous criminals! Do people actually think they would fight their way to the docks, spells and swords flashing, and make a daring escape?"
Cauthrien said something to that effect to Loghain, later, when they reached the camp at Lothering. Loghain's headquarters was in Bann Ceorlic's manor, now overrun with soldiers and weapons.
The teyrn wanted to know every detail of the mission. That conversation was very lengthy, and Cauthrien would not have been human had she not portrayed herself in quite a good light. However, she did do justice to Hawke to some degree.
"Alistair's quite a fine warrior, but he's a born follower. Hawke's also a brilliant swordsman, and showed far more talent for leadership, though I can't say we always saw eye to eye. He's naive and softhearted, and doesn't understand what it takes to wield power. He hates what he sees as injustice. He got into a tavern brawl in Highever when Howe's men overstepped themselves. However, he dealt with all three allies with surprising tact and good sense. To be honest, he got on with the Dalish far better than I did." She shrugged. "For all the use they're going to be. There just aren't very many of them left."
Loghain did not agree. "Good archers are always useful. Trackers and skirmishers? Just what we need. We'll collect them at the end of the month, and by then they may number as many as a thousand. So Hawke seemed loyal enough. No escape attempts? No scheming?"
"With his mother and sister at the palace, I can't see him setting a foot out of line, and if he doesn't, Alistair w
on't. The only anomaly was when I discovered that one of the mages he insisted on bringing along proved to be his cousin. He and Carver seemed genuinely surprised, and I don't think either of them is a good enough actor to feign that. It might really be just a coincidence."
"What about the cousin?"
"A very fine battle mage, though she didn't much care for camp life... or me, for that matter. Hawke's indicated that he'd like to conscript her and the Healer Anders, and when they know how, they'll make all three mages Wardens together. Perhaps five Wardens is too many, but they do seem to make a good team. No one has any current foreign connections, even the Amell girl. Of course, her ties to Kirkwall were severed when she was committed to the Circle here in Ferelden. My people overheard her telling Hawke that she never heard from her parents afterwards. Hawke's understanding from his mother is that her parents have been dead for some years. Anders has no surviving family. Alistair..."
Loghain waved her on. "I know about Alistair's family."
"Well, the point is that he has none. And his foster family is gone now, too. He's not happy about that. Nor does he have any friends other than Hawke and the three mages, since all the rest were Wardens. He doesn't seem to know any foreign Wardens. Hawke's only foreign ties are with Kirkwall, and his mother has not heard from her brother in years. Aside from Hawke's mother and sister, none of them has anyone outside their group who particularly matters to them."
Loghain smirked. "Hawke was following you with his eyes like a trained mabari."
"I think he does like me," Cauthrien said frankly. "I rather like him. He's all right. He's a naturally gifted warrior, and a decent sort. I can't see the Orlesians making any headway with him, because he's suspicious of nobles to begin with, and nothing they offered him would be what he wants."
"What does he want, do you think?" Loghain asked, curious.
Cauthrien blew out a breath. "I think, first of all, he wants his brother back. After that, he wants to live a peaceful life on his little farm with his mother and sister. And he talked about buying the farm and setting up as a freeholder, until it was pointed out to him that as a Warden he can't."
"So he still hates being a Warden."
"Yes, he does," Cauthrien said. "And he's right. What we saw in the Deep Roads was... horrific. Unbelievable. So," she advised. "Cut him some slack. He's not happy with us at the moment. He's grieving over his brother, and he feels the boy was manipulated into a dangerous situation. He's not happy about the way his mother and sister are being treated. Pushing too hard won't make him more loyal. He was already loyal, I think. We're very close to making him feel betrayed."
"What wrong with his mother and sister?"
"Perhaps they shouldn't be kept quite so closely, my lord. They haven't permitted to leave their quarters except to see the Queen, and the servants assigned to them are too obviously spies. The women don't understand what they've done to be imprisoned, and they were hounding Hawke to do something about it, which he can't."
She bit her lip. "Maybe give him a bit of carrot, to offset all the stick. His brother was killed, after all. He feels that should count for something. And so do I. I got the feAstridg that he expected to be murdered in the night after the mission was over."
Loghain scoffed at that, but then frowned as he thought more about it.
"You've done well, Cauthrien," he said at last. "Very well. The dwarves are on the way, according to the couriers from the west. We're bringing in more mages all the time. Yes, it's made a great difference. I'll think about what you said."
With a gesture, he dismissed her, and then, after a moment's reflection, sent for Hawke himself.
Now that they had secured the Grey Warden allies, wiping out the surviving Wardens was completely out of the question. Surely young Hawke could see that. The exiArvidce of the allies had done a great deal to raise morale and strengthen his own position as Regent.
That position certainly was more precarious than he liked, and much of that was due to Rendon Howe and the disaster at Redcliffe. From what he could gather, Howe was completely innocent of any wrongdoing there: he had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, appearances were against him. There were those whispering that Howe was, at Loghain's orders, eliminating any in the nobility who might resist him. The stilted, uncomfortable letters Loghain was receiving from South Reach were certainly evidence of that rumor. If Bryland thought that Loghain was planning to murder him and his family, it would be a disaster for the current campaign. And surely Wulffe, in West Hills, would not be taken in by such nonsense?
There was a knock at the door. The guard outside spoke, his voice filtered by the heavy oak.
"It's Warden Liam, my lord."
"Send him in."
Hawke strode through the door, head down, eyes burning. Loghain thought he looked like a young man with a grievance. Possibly even ready for a fight. The anger was there, simmering. It would be unfortunate if Loghain were forced to have him killed. He really was very useful at the moment.
Loghain sat back, studying the young man.
"Sit."
A momentary internal struggle, and Hawke took the seat opposite the teyrn, still glaring.
"So... Hawke..." Loghain paused, watching the man's fist clench. He would have to do something to diffuse the tension. And some well-deserved praise was definitely in order.
"You've impressed everyone, Hawke, even me. Ferelden owes you a debt. I admit that you've succeeded far beyond my own expectations. We now have a fighting chance, thanks to your good sense in preserving and using those ancient treaties."
Hawke relaxed minutely. Loghain saw that, and went on.
"I also wanted to say how very sorry I am about the loss of your brother. Carver Hawke was a brave young man, and I'd heard only good of him. He will be missed, and not just by his family."
How many times had he said those words to grieving fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers... children, even? Sometimes they worked, and sometimes not, but they were always true, and always needed to be said.
Hawke hunched his shoulders, and then forced out a reply.
"Thank you, my lord."
"You've done a great deal. I don't want you to think that your country is not grateful. This isn't the time to dicker about rewards, but they will come. Right now, we have to do everything to win. Have you heard anything from the other Wardens?"
"Not a word, my lord," Hawke admitted. "There were no letters at the Compound, except for some merchants' bills. Of course, the farther posts probably haven't even received my own letters yet."
Loghain knew that, of course. His people knew about every letter sent to the Compound. They intercepted and read them, too: even the bills, looking for possible codes. A letter had come from Astrid, but Loghain had already filed it away. It was nothing of any importance, and deserved to be ignored. The man who sent the letter had come to Ferelden, impudently presented himself to Freya, and had been disposed of. So much for Orlesians and their meddling. Nothing the man would have said could have been trusted.
"Cauthrien says you want to go up to the Coast Mountains and look for the old Warden fort."
"I do, my lord. We didn't find the sort of information we needed at the Shaperate in Orzammar. There might be documents at Soldier's Peak just like at the post near Ostagar. Alistair and I could go up there and be back within the month."
"Alistair's not going," Loghain declared, his face grim. "I need a Grey Warden here to deal with the allies. Your cousin Enchanter Amell can stay with him and back him up. She's some sort of Warden recruit, isn't she?"
"More or less."
Hawke could see where this was going. Another plot to entangle and control him. He and Alistair would be separated, and Alyson would be the hostage here for Hawke's good behavior. He briefly considered putting his fist in Loghain's face. Probably not the wisest choice. The teyrn still held all the cards, and he still did not trust Hawke not to run away into the blue at
the first opportunity. It was so infuriating that Hawke wished he could, just to spite the man.
"However," Loghain continued, "I don't have a problem with you going yourself. I can't spare Cauthrien any longer, but it you want to, you can take a few companions and nose about the old ruin. I want you back here by the first of Solace. You can take the Wilder girl, I suppose. Who else?"
"I'd like to have Anders as Healer. And I would take Oghren Kondrat, our dwarven friend, along as well."
"Just the four of you?"
"I think we can manage," Hawke gritted out, "As long as Arl Howe's men don't mistake us for unarmed women and children."
"Watch your tongue!" Loghain snarled, and then settled back into his chair, peering at Hawke, curious about this new development.
"You really don't like nobles, do you?"
"Not very much, no, my lord. My dealings with them have not much been to my own or my family's benefit."
"Never dreamed of being one yourself?"
Hawke grimaced, "Maybe as a boy, hearing fairy stories. It doesn't take long out in Lothering to discover that nobles aren't anything like that."
"Your own lord is Bann Ceorlic, of course."
"As you say, my lord. I have to tell you that what I saw in Highever was appalling. I don't think it really matters to common folk like me who kills them."
"You were in the castle?"
"I was in the castle, and I was in the town, and I was in the countryside. Everywhere Howe's men act like occupying troops, terrorizing the people."
"Order must be maintained."
Hawke glared at him, not daring to utter, for Mother and Bethany's sake, the words on the tip of his tongue:
"Isn't that what the Orlesians used to say?"
Maybe Loghain saw it in his eyes, anyway, for he scowled.
"Tavern brawls, Hawke? Really?"
So Cauthrien had tattled to her master. That made Hawke nearly as angry as the reason he had attacked Howe's men in the first place.
Dragon's Era- No Man's Land Page 45