Trouble & Strife: Chapter Thirty Eight

[scarylady]

Merry Christmas & a Happy New Year to everyone! As my Friday posting day lands on Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve this year, and I've been too busy to get any writing done, I'm posting just this one inbetween-y chapter, so that I don't destroy my text buffer. Normal service shall be resumed on Friday 7th January.

Big, huge thanks to everyone who has helped, supported or just generally been friendly to me during 2010, my first year of writing.  Biggest thanks of all go to bellaknoti my luvverly Comma Fairy. 
Karen
xxx

Link to the beginning, for anyone joining us for the first time: www.fanfiction.net/s/6144534/1/Trouble_Strife

Title: Trouble & Strife: Chapter Thirty Eight
Characters: today we have Alistair, Maddy, Anders, Zevran, Leliana, Kallian, Teagan, Cedric and Empress Celene.
Rating: M   Warning: one scene contains a brief, non-explicit rape attempt.
In this chapter:  Plans are hatched for breaking into the Circle, and Kallian gets into trouble.

 

-oOo-

 

“There are no windows? None at all?”   When even Zevran is demonstrably horrified, then there is little doubt that something is genuinely awful. 

Anders shrugged; a bitter twist to his mouth. “It was built with masses of windows; it’s Avvar construction and they liked lots of light and air it seems. The Chantry bricked them all up; all of the windows, the balconies, everything. The only remaining windows are in the Harrowing Chamber, presumably because mages are only allowed up there under guard.” 

There was a peculiar, twisted pleasure in managing to upset such a hardened individual. Anders grinned at the aghast elf. “What, you think the Chantry care if mages get to see daylight or breathe fresh air? Some children come in as toddlers and never leave, in their entire lives. They don’t know what daylight is.”

“The Templars live that way, too,” reminded Leliana gently. “Their lives aren’t much better, and very few of them choose it.”

“They can get out when they’re off-duty, go for a walk. They get re-assigned to other locations.” Anders swept his hand over the map they were inspecting, indicating the surrounding countryside. “One of the Templars assigned to the Circle turned out to be afraid of enclosed spaces. Greagoir had him re-assigned within two weeks.   They knew that I was afraid of enclosed spaces, too. What did I get? They shut me in solitary confinement in a cell for a year. An entire year. Don’t try to make me feel sympathy for Templars, Leliana. You’re wasting your time.”

“So the only ways in are either through the front door, or through windows very high up.” Zevran scanned the, rather poor, drawings of Kinloch Hold in a book on Avvar construction they’d found in Teagan’s library. “No other options?”

“That’s difficult to say for sure. A lot of the exits I used to use have been found and blocked. There’s no saying whether they all have. Also, you need a two-way route. I only needed to get out. So, the sewer exits I used are no use to you.”

“We can’t bluff our way in as Templars; there are a few women, but no elves at all.” Leliana bit her lip, thinking. “Breaking in seems the only option.”

“You know, the only one of us who could get away with bluffing his way in is Alistair.” Anders’ lips quirked into a smirk at the idea, banishing the bitterness. “Stick a Templar uniform on him and a bucket hat, he has the right bearing and can even throw a cleanse or two around.” He sighed wistfully, abandoning a pleasant notion. “Shame he’s the King and we can’t risk him.”

“It looks, from this picture, as though there used to be entrances lower down.” Zevran was twisting the book around, as one does in the vain hope of getting a clearer picture from another angle. “You see these arches? They are below the level of the main doors.”

“Basement entrances; they were blocked up, but…” Anders frowned down at the book in Zev’s hands. “There’s a lot of rubble on that side of the island; I hid among it once. Parts of the lower basements are crumbling, I think, and they are above ground on that side because of the incline.” He shook his head. “Even if you can get in, several of the doors down there are magically locked. It’s why I never tried to get out that way.”

“Magically locked on both sides?” asked Leliana. “Or just from above? The Circle defences are designed to keep people in, not out.”

“I honestly have no idea. Funnily enough, I never tried to break into the Circle.”

“So, we can scout that option out and decide at the time, but we’ll need to take climbing gear and assume that we will be climbing up to the Harrowing Chamber. Fortunately there are so many balconies and buttresses it shouldn’t be a difficult climb.” Zevran glanced at Leliana. “You don’t look very happy, my devious bard, is climbing not to your taste?”

“I can do it, but I suspect I’m not as good as you. I was trained to infiltrate; this kind of break-in was always a last resort.”

“Hmm, whereas for me this is bread and butter work. Do not worry, I shall take the lead, and you may follow.” Zevran closed the book and stretched. “Our main difficulty will be that, after crossing the lake, we shall be cold and wet. The air will be colder the higher we climb, and mist off the lake will make the stone slippery. We shall need roughened gloves and boots for this climb, my dear, to provide better grip. And short weapons only, anything else will be too cumbersome.” The gleam in Zevran’s eye suggested that he was looking forward to the challenge. “Now, my fine mage, draw for me a map of the interior, if you will, and indicate what we should be looking for. Then we will need to gather our gear and leave immediately. It’s a good day’s travel to reach the Circle.”

-oOo-

 

Kallian was utterly bored. Maddy was taking a nap; she’d started getting sleepy in the afternoons as her pregnancy progressed. Kalli would normally use this time for weapons practice, but if she wanted to keep up the pretence of just being the Queen’s maid, then she couldn’t do so when in the Arl’s castle. She envied the freedom Zevran had, to be openly martial, obviously dangerous. She sighed, trailing her fingers along the wall of the corridor she was mooching along. There was value in the charade she played, it meant that she could go anywhere with Maddy, without making people nervous, but she wished Alistair would allow her to openly be the Queen’s bodyguard.

Sounds ahead made her stop suddenly, her forehead creasing as she listened, it sounded like… yes, like that. They were sounds that she would never, ever forget.

From within the room ahead, clear through the open door; scuffling, whimpers, the sharp sound of a slap. A flick of her wrist dropped her knives from hidden forearm sheaths and Kallian moved on silent feet to the entrance.

“Ser, please, no…”

A large basket of linens lay next to the door. The bed was half stripped, blankets turned back so that soiled sheets could be removed. On top of this a pair of figures struggled; the back of the man on top was visible from the door and sundry parts of the girl underneath. Her legs dangled off the end of the bed, while he tried to hold both her hands above her head in one of his, unbuttoning his trousers with the other. She was twisting and crying, begging him to stop.

For Kallian the world slowed down; her brain felt numb and yet, at the same time, she had utter clarity. Details stood out sharply; the girl had lost one of her shoes, which lay on the floor next to the bed. In fighting him, she must have clung to one of the bed hangings, as it was partially ripped away from its rings.

Bastard shem.

We’re having a party and seem to be short on girls.

Scum-sucking human fucker.

That’s what happens to knife ears what don’t know their place.

She had all the time in the world and neither of them had any idea she was there. Tactics and options that had been patiently drilled into her by Zevran utterly failed to cross her mind. Kalli’s arms reached around without conscious volition and her sharp, sharp knives sliced across his throat as easily as gutting a fish.

As blood poured down on the pinned girl, her cries turned to hysterical wails of terror.

 

-oOo-

Celene, Empress of Orlais read the report again and sat back, tapping her fingers on the parchment. A miracle from Andraste? Possible, but unlikely.   And yet, she had previously heard no whisper of Madeleina having any strange or miraculous abilities. Certainly, had she done so, Celene would not have offered her sister as bride to the King of a backward nation. 

Her spy in King Alistair’s travelling encampment was lowly, and reported that the King’s inner circle were too tight-knit for much information to be available. She considered the information received regarding the Dalish: that Madeleina had regularly spent time alone with the Keepers in their strange, wheeled abodes, and that a group consisting of the King and Queen, their personal friends and some Dalish had several times gone out into the forest together, leaving behind the Royal guard. Also that, on one of these expeditions, the King had captured four Chantry Templars, openly declared them traitors, and ordered them imprisoned in Fort Drakon. 

The report she’d received from Denerim provided other information; that the Chantry were now much more active, more hostile, against mages. Also, that the King’s Chancellor had turned out the Palace Guard to attend a Chantry execution, but left without taking any action.

There were many puzzle pieces, but not enough for Celene to fathom the minds and intentions of King Alistair and Queen Madeleina. She regretted not taking the trouble to get to know her younger sister when she had the opportunity. If the events at Lothering were not happenstance, then it was a catastrophe for Orlais to have allowed such a treasure to escape her grasp. At the very least, it seemed certain that blighted Ferelden would not need to buy Orlesian grain for much longer with such a resource at their disposal. 

The Empress considered a moment longer, and then rang a small bell on her desk. A servant entered the room immediately and bowed.

“Send a message to the Cathedral informing the Divine that I wish to see her immediately.”

“Très bien, Majesté.”

-oOo-

“Where is Kallian now?”

“She’s in the dungeon.” Teagan threw up his hands defensively in the face of Alistair’s accusing glare. “It was for her own protection, Alistair. When I received the message that she was in custody at the guard post, I went straight over there; it was obvious they hadn’t been gentle.”

“What? They had no right-”

“Alistair, try to see it from their perspective. Lord Peddlegate, a guest in my castle, had his throat slashed open by a serving maid.   There’s a chambermaid in hysterics, covered in his blood, who won’t say a word about what happened, and the Queen’s serving maid wielding a pair of daggers that no-one even knew she owned. The guard tell me that Kallian was hissing and spitting curses like a wildcat and that it took six of them to put her down. Two guards were injured.”

“Trust me, she wasn’t really trying. Otherwise, at least four of them would be dead.” Alistair rubbed his hands through his hair, slumping in his seat. “I knew she owned the daggers. Also that, under her dress, she wears adapted leather armour. She’s Maddy’s personal bodyguard and she trains with Zev. Even I can’t easily put her down.”

“I see.” Teagan subsided, frowning. “That still doesn’t explain what happened. I imagine there was an… incident with the girl. I can’t say I approve, but cutting his throat open? Somewhat drastic, I’d say. If she’d merely injured him…”

“I know,” groaned Alistair. “Kalli has… issues with rapists, and particularly with human noble ones. When I employed her, I told her that if someone forced themselves on anyone under my roof, she was welcome to cut off whatever bits she fancied. I didn’t think she’d choose his head. And this isn’t my roof.”

“Please, feel free to treat it as though it were. I have the Right of High Justice here, but with you in residence the Right is yours. Not that I envy you the task. Lord Peddlegate’s allegiance lies with Bann Damon of Mannisfere and he’s up in arms about this.”

“Oh, good-o.” Alistair straightened in his chair, mentally preparing to grasp the reins. “First of all, get the other girl up here. I need to know what actually happened.”

 

-oOo-

“So, you and Prince Philippe, then?”

Zevran kept his reply light, although the bard’s question made his stomach churn. “Is this because we danced? Perhaps then I should be asking about you and the handsome Arl.” He picked his way over stones, glad it was early autumn at least and the fields were still dry. Staying off the road had seemed like the most prudent option for this expedition. “He didn’t take his eyes off you that evening. I hope when you are Arlessa, you won’t forget your old friends, hmm?”

Leliana shook her head, her cheeks pink. “That is not true, and you are just trying to distract me. Anyway, you won’t need any of us with such a powerful protector. A Prince of Orlais is quite a catch, no?”

“A catch fit for a Princess.” He was proud of how bland his voice remained. “You know, we have many Princesses in Antiva. The royal family tree is something of a hawthorn bush. Princes come and go according to their politics and the size of their Crow cell, but a lot of minor Princesses get overlooked and survive. Perhaps I should send the Empress a list.”

Leliana stopped in front of him and turned, cocking her head like a curious bird. “To the Empress? Is she…?”

Zevran cursed himself. How had that last part slipped out? He was getting careless. “Is she what, dear Leliana? Looking to make alliances between her house and those of other royalty? Of course; aren’t they all?”

“I see.”

Unfortunately, it seemed she probably did. Time to distract her. “So, if not the handsome Arl, is it to be the dashing Warden, instead?”

“What? No! No, I haven’t seen him for-” She stopped at this interesting point and regarded Zevran suspiciously. “Which Warden?”

“Hmm, well I meant our sexy mage, but if you have another in mind, then do tell me all about it. Is he handsome? Talented?” Zev allowed his voice to drop to a purr for the last word and her reaction showed that, whoever he was, she had definitely enjoyed him. 

Hoisted on the petard of her own curiosity, Leliana tossed her head and turned away, setting a new and brisker pace. “I think we should hurry up if we want to get to the Circle by nightfall; we don’t want to have to hang around for a full day.”

“As you wish, my pretty songbird.”

-oOo-

“Our orders are to keep everyone away from her.”

“I don’t give a rat’s arse what your orders are. I’m the Captain of the King’s Guard and you are going to let me pass.”

The unusually harsh tone in Cedric’s voice brought Kallian’s head up from where she crouched, huddled in her cell. Moments later the door opened and she squinted in the sudden light. In the doorway she could see Cedric’s stocky figure, made more bulky by his armour. Behind his shoulder was a taller shape, blond hair halo’ed by the lamps in the corridor. Anders.

The warrior swore fluently as soon as he set eyes on her. “Sodding bastards. If I find any of my men did this, I’ll flay them alive.”

The mage moved past him and crouched in the filth beside her. “Morning, Kalli,” he said cheerfully, lifting her head to inspect the damage. “Arl Teagan’s cells leave a lot to be desired, don’t they? We’ll have to inspect the accommodations in future, so we know which estates it’s safe to stab people up on.” Healing magic flowed from him and the swelling around her eyes and the contusion on her jaw sunk to nothing, while the bruising faded. “Anywhere else I should know about?”

“Ribs.” Kalli shifted, lifting her dress to reveal her armour. He unbuckled the side she indicated. “Armour saved me, I think. Just bruised, not cracked.”

A crease appeared between Anders’ eyes as he concentrated, before nodding. “Yep, just bruises; all done now. Oh, the joys of being kicked in the ribs. How I miss it.”

“Grow your ears to points, then you can enjoy it whenever you want.”

“Pack that in.” The fury in Cedric’s voice made Kallian stare. “D’you think they would have spared any of us, if we cut a nobleman’s throat like you did? Do you reckon any of my lads would be tucked up all comfy in the barracks after a caper like that?” The hoarse, angry questions were at odd variance with his behaviour. Whilst throwing all this vitriol at her, he was drawing a cloak from a bag and tucking it around her shoulders. “If you were under my command, I’d have you flogged. Why the soddin’ hell didn’t you drop him, nice and quiet, and bundle him off to Alistair for judgement? Instead of which-” he cut off short and turned away, apparently to root in the bag.

“They’re gonna hang me, aren’t they?”

At her quiet question, Cedric’s shoulders slumped, but he made no answer. Instead, he pulled food out of the bag, bread and ham and cheese, and began to lay it out on a clean cloth for her. It was Anders who responded. 

“Alistair’s going to have a tough time avoiding it, but he’s doing what he can.”

“That bastard shem was raping that girl. But, of course, that’s alright, isn’t it? Bloody knife-ear should be grateful for his attentions, right?” The bitterness was there, where she expected it to be, but in the face of these two shem men, both obviously concerned for her safety, Kalli just couldn’t seem to summon it up properly.

“You know her race doesn’t matter to Alistair. But the fact is; rape isn’t a capital offence, and murdering a nobleman is.” Anders stood, brushing dirt off his robes. “Look, whatever happens, you’re not going to hang. If everything else fails, then I’ll conscript you. Killing darkspawn should please you well enough, and I know the Commander would be delighted to gain such an accomplished fighter.”

Tears pricked at her eyes and she blinked hard. When Cedric knelt down and gave her a swift, hard hug she accepted it, leaning against his shoulder for a moment. Their care broke through her shell, where no amount of hardship could, and the pain of merely feeling was almost unbearable.

“Chin up, girl. We’ll weather this yet.” There was bristle against her skin as Cedric pressed a light kiss to her forehead before he stood abruptly.   The withdrawal of his comforting presence left her feeling oddly bereft, but she nodded, setting her jaw.

She didn’t allow the tears to fall until after they had left.

-oOo-