Write-up by Dangerous Brian
With dawn's light greying the night time sky, the surviving members of the Bann's hunting party set to policing the battlefield, gathering up the arms of the fallen and retrieving treasured objects from the still forms of their dead. Rolland stalks off back the way he came after his brief introduction. Four of his men have fallen and will not rise again. Others are in need of consolation or of aid and there are guards to be posted.
While the Priestess (whose name the party still does not know) administers the last rites to the dying, brigand and hunter alike, Iah tends to the seriously wounded who may yet have a chance at survival. Athough she tends to one injured young man, barely older than Garrett, Iah must finally acknowledge that he is beyond saving. The young hunter tries to communicate something to her but alas he’s too far gone. With his voice so weak, neither Iah nor a hastily called-over Ogden can fathom his last words. He was dressed as a beater. An everyday working man, yet brave enough to give his life in the rescue of strangers.
Nearby, one of Garrett's brothers, standing unnoticed among the wounded, comments aloud that the man likely had a final message for his loved ones. A common enough last wish, he observes in a hollow voice. When Iah voices her dismay that she will not even be able to pass on such a message for one to whom she owes so much, the brother shrugs resignedly. “I am sure”, he says, “that one of the others here can voice some sort of comfort to his family. Maker knows, I have heard such comforting lies myself often enough.”
Unthinkingly, Ogden begins rooting through the dead man's pockets. Though his honest intent is to find any valuable keep-sakes the man's family might wish returned, this sight is too much for the exhausted young man who stands beside him. Ogden's first indication of the human lad's rage is the cold touch of a sword point tapping against his shoulder. When the dwarf explains his intent, the youth apologies, but states in unequivocal terms that such tasks are best left to the dead man's friends. Conceding the point, Ogden brushes the dirt from his knees. After rising to his feet the dwarf introduces himself. Garrett's brother introduces himself in turn as Shelby. He thanks Iah for the care of his wounded brother and asks if “milady” needs any assistance.
Laria helps the dozen or so survivors of the hunting party collect the scattered weapons and bodies of the fallen. She encounters a great deal of resistance at first, the grizzled men-at-arms and huntsmen insisting that this is no work for a young lass. One of them asks why a woman would wish to don a sword and armour. Laria explains that she doesn't see why a woman should not be allowed to protect those she loves. Eventually, her persistence wins the men over. After her first off-hand comment about life at the Abbey, a few of the men smile and nod, exchanging knowing looks. One grey-haired veteran kindly explains that she'd “best learn a woman's place in the world fast, 'less you want to embarrass yer lady in front of the king.”
Little respect is shown for the bodies of the Brigands, whom the grey-hair explains are “broken, evil men.” Teiryn Osfric once welcomed such men into his service but Bann Henli drove off as many as he could soon after receiving the benefice of Restenford. In the course of the sometimes ghoulish work among the dead, Laria comes across the group's weapons.
Once Rolland has satisfied himself with the various dispositions of the sentries and calls in the surviving horsemen, he and Iah discuss the days ahead. He explains how Fossett and Shelby found him the day before yesterday and, reasoning that Garrett would have wasted no time bringing the party north, they set out to cut across their trail. When Iah asks for an escort to Denerim, the handsome young Bann points out that he has no intention of leaving her party to fend for themselves and will be travelling with them forthwith to Denerim.
Iah is very keen for Garrett to be taken back to Blackkeep, yet is loath to leave him behind on the road like a discarded toy. However, Rolland explains that Garrett's presence as a witness is required at the reading of the will and that he himself has no intention of returning to Blackkeep. They cannot afford to give Malegaunt time to prepare any surprises on the way. Instead, he will send the wounded members of his hunting party back to Blackkeep with the remaining horses while the remainder of his men escort Iah and Garrett north. He promises to keep one horse so that Garrett can be more comfortably moved and sets two of his men to making make-shift repairs on a two-wheeled cart lying in scattered pieces in the Abbey ruins.
He also takes this opportunity to discuss her choice of companions. He commends her on Ogden's skill and potential as a bodyguard. He also points out that she might wish to see about arranging more suitable attire for her female companion. Iah verbally leaps to her friends defence, explaining they are her companions, not her servants and she will not have them treated as such.
“Companions or not,” he replies, quite calm in the face of Iah's pique, “you are noble and they are not. They will be perceived as your servants regardless of how you feel about them. I suggest you play on it. Every noble needs trusted men -and women- to advise them. And someone like your friend Laria could be very useful as both attendant and bodyguard – provided she does not dress herself so obviously as a fighting woman. Her facility with weapons could be a fatal surprise for an assassin -but not if she dresses like a damned knight!”
Their discussion -while not an outright argument, is loud enough that it attracts the attention of Ogden and Laria, who approach the two nobles just as Rolland begins commenting on Laria's attire. Though she does a good job of hiding it, Laria (being a sensitive nineteen year old) is somewhat distraught by how vehement a reaction her clothing and weapons seem to invoke in every man she meets. Her father's strong disapproval of her life-style is beginning to make much more sense.
When the young swords-woman plaintively asks what's wrong with her clothing, Rolland sighs loudly at his indiscretion and takes this as his cue to leave, offering to share a jug of ale over breakfast with Ogden. Meanwhile, Iah sets about placating her friend and insisting they shall find a way to allow Laria to dress in a way in which she's comfortable and yet will jib with the expectations of society.
As Ogden and Rolland share a quick jug over breakfast, Rolland is keen to press upon the dwarf just how much danger his friend Iah is actually in. He insists that while Garrett and his brothers are good lads they need a few more turns about the practice field before they'll be ready for a proper fight. “Keep your eyes open.” is his advice to the dwarf, “and trust no-one.”
Once blessings have been said over the dead and the corpses of the brigands are set aflame, the company divides in two. Most of the hunting-party, including all the wounded and the Sister whose name the party has still yet to learn, take horse back to Blackkeep. The grey-haired veteran carries with him instructions to send a party of armed men on to Denerim, for safety on the journey back.
Meanwhile, the cart has been securely fastened to the remaining horse and the still comatose Garrett placed lightly aboard. Iah sits on beside him on the wagon, the better to tend his wounds as they travel. Ogden, Laria, Rolland, six members of his hunting party and Garrett's brothers, travel on foot alongside.
Much of the remainder of that day is spent man-handling the cart -gently- through the woods and back onto the road. The sun is already dipping in the sky when the weary party finally smell the river and, soon after, make their way onto the road that runs alongside it through the forest. In deference to the ladies and to their wounded comrade, Rowland offers the party a chance for a rest. Instead, they decide to keep moving forward, though at Iah's insistence Rolland sends two of his men ahead to beg some honey and egg-whites from a nearby farm. She hopes to use these to clean Garretts many wounds.
As they travel, Rolland provides Iah (and to a lesser extent) Laria and Ogden advice on suitable behaviour at etiquette at court. It seems it had not occurred to them that they would be presented before the King and his nobles after the reading of the will.
As the party travels onward, the road becomes busier with peddlers, pilgrims, entertainers and travelling merchants. Here, at the outskirts of the Brecilian forest, the road is joined by many others leading to the manors and estates of the nobility.
That night Rolland pays for accommodation at a travelling inn, he even gets some complaining merchants turfed out to make room for the ladies. A second room is provided for the brothers, with whom Garrett is bunked. Gallantly however, Rolland chooses to sleep outside with his men rather than force another group of travellers from their beds. Not keen to share a room with the two women -what would his father say after all- Ogden joins Rolland sleeping under the wagon.
Iah awakes first, and receives something of a shock when she opens her room door to find Shelby sleeping in the corridor, across her doorway. When she asks just what the young man thinks he is doing, the perplexed youth explains that, it's his duty as her squire to sleep across her doorway at night. He explains it's not just him either. Fossett was out here for the first half of the night as well.
Iah then goes to see Garrett, waiting patiently outside the squire's room until the boys are decent. Garrett isn’t any worse for his difficult day of travel. But nor do his wounds seem to be getting any better. Iah promises his brothers she will find a good physician when they get to Denerim.
While Shelby tends to his wounded brother, Fossett draws Iah aside to ask what Garrett's future will now be. He’s upset that Garrett will no longer be able to serve as a knight. Iah promises that when she is in a position too do so she will see to it that Garrett will be well rewarded for his service. Fossett is grateful, but expresses his doubts that anything Iah could offer will mean as much to Garrett as a knighthood.
In the other room, Laria finishes dressing. Having been greatly affected by the comments of the men yesterday. She has been mulling over her attire and considering how to make herself more acceptable. She has been fighting the nun's efforts to force her into ‘lady like’ wear for years. Though it pains her to do so now, she has no wish to risk alienating Iah from the other nobles because of her scandalous dress. As such, she dons one of Iah's spare novice robes from the convent and makes her way down to breakfast.
Inside the inn, Rolland and his men sit for breakfast with Fossett, Shelby, Garrett and the party. A now-awake but extremely morose Garrett eyes his ale and stew wistfully, rubbing his swollen jaw, still unable to speak. However, Rolland wins many points with Iah and the others when, in a surprising display of sensitivity and fore-thought, he produces a freshly cut reed from the river bank, obtained that morning while he washed. While Garrett gratefully sets to drinking his ale through the benefice of the hollow reed, Iah mashes the stew which Garrett's brothers in-expertly begin to feed him with a spoon.
When it is revealed that Ogden paid for breakfast, Rolland promises to re-imburse him. Ogden grumpily asks for that in writing and is astonished (along with everyone else from the convent) when Rolland cheerfully admits he cannot read. Some of the hunters laugh at the trios comic expressions of surprise, prompting Rolland to explains that most folk -even merchants and nobles- outside of the church are illiterate. When Ogden grumpily explains his ignorance is due to never having left the convent, the hunters joke amongst themselves and promise to take him to the Pearl (those of you who have played the computer game will know the Pearl to be a high-class brothel). Ogden asks if it’s a cave with jewels. Rolland laughs:
“Well lad, you'll definitely be digging in something if you go there.”
He suddenly goes pale when he realises just whose company he's sitting in. His band of hunters is not slow to laugh good naturedly at his expense.
At that, the Bann decides it’s time to go.
Late that morning the company peaks a rise, finally able to see the city of Denerim itself. Up until this point, Brigton, a paltry town of 3000 people, had been the largest settlement ever seen by the convent-fellows. To a see a settlement bigger than they could imagine certainly takes their breath away.
Or perhaps that was just the smell. It reeks. Even from this distance the odour of human filth and unwashed bodies wafts in the air towards them. Even this late in the morning, massive queues wait outside the many gates. It is here that Rowland bows to Iah and says ‘I present to you the capital city. Denerim.’
Iah and Laria are greatly impressed.
Unimpressed, Ogden merely comments on the smell.
Rolland explains that it may take until nightfall for the party to gain entrance to the city. He advises that this is where they must part. Rolland is too well known in the city, and for the group to be seen in his presence would put them in too much danger. He tells Iah and her party to stay at the Grey Minstrel inn.
“Just don't let the dwarf sing. The inn's haunted, by a former minstrel they say. Bad music sets the ghost to throwing pots and pans.” He thinks for a moment. “In fact, best not to even let him drink.”
Rolland advises that Iah and her companions use the morrow to acquire some suitable court atire – the squires have sufficient funds in their possession to take care of any “reasonable” bill in this regard. And, he jokes, given Iah's mother's penchant for rich and expensive clothing and high fashion, there's a good chance the boys will know all the best dress makers in the city as well.
“What if we need you?” Laria asks
“Send one of the boys to find me at my town-house. They know the way. But be wary: I am not a friend of Maleguant. My town house is sure to be watched.”
Rolland promises to fetch them on the second morning and escort the party to the Ironshield's banking House, where the will shall be read, and thereafter to the King's Citadel for her ritual presentation before the Bannorn. He reminds them of a few courtly manners and points of etiquette then takes his leave, he and his men heading towards the Noble's Gate while directing Iah and her party towards the Merchant's Gate, where they will attract less notice.
“Remember, discretion.” are his parting words.
The six travellers (Iah, Ogden, Laria and the squires) spend the better part of the next four bells waiting in the queue for entry. By the time they reach the guard booth, night is falling and already those in the line behind are fretting about being locked outside for the night. They very quickly pay the gate tax and, after making brief enquiries regarding directions to a surgeon, receive a resounding endorsement of one Dr Alnwick from one of the guards. The guard in question swears that the old boy is the best surgeon in Denerim when it comes to battle-field injuries, emphasising these claims by tapping his wooden eye with the tip of a dagger and gnashing his wooden false teeth appreciatively.
With darkness falling on the city, Shelby and Fossett hire three torch-bearing guides to lead them through the darkening streets of the Merchant's Quarter. The guides keep them to the centre of the roads to avoid the muck in the “kennels” (where the locals dump their night-soil) and to keep them safe from footpads lurking in the alleyways. So dark is it beneath these seven story tall buildings, that without the benefit of their guides, they would surely become lost, easy prey for thievery and murder.
Eventually, they reach the Grey Minstrel Inn. Shelby goes to wake the stable boy while Fossett helps Garrett down from the wagon. Inside the Inn, they are greeted by a haggard looking she-elf. Far from being a great beauty as described in the tales, the City-Elf seems worn out by her short life of toil and labour. Very tired and thin, she asks what sort of rooms would be required and for how long the group will be staying. The four boys share a single room with two large beds, while the ladies treat themselves to a room with a bed big enough for four and the luxury of a bath. When Ogden and Iah split the cost between them, Fossett seems mortified. He explains that a lady should not bother herself with such trifles as paying tradesmen. He adds that Lady Nimue left the brothers well financed to deal with any expenses on the way. He clinks a full purse meaningfully.
Iah pointedly replies that she's not a lady yet – and that they are trying to be discreet.
Fortunately the elf appears not to have noticed. Likely, she has had a lifetime of experience in appearing not to have noticed, but there you go.
Wisely, Ogden suggests that he and the boys (the healthy ones at least) keep a watch. He volunteers to take first watch seeing as it was his idea. Shelby and Fossett decide among themselves who will take second and third. After a brisk dinner and the ladies return to their rooms for a bath. All then head to bed.
In the morning, Iah dresses herself and opens the door to find Fossett snoring against the frame. Visiting Garrett, she finds Ogden on the floor is still snoring happily, unwilling to share a bed with other men. Garrett is looking a bit better, the swelling has gone down and he is able to mumble a good morning. At least, that's what everyone assumes he said. Iah sets to work changing his bandages.
Meanwhile, Shelby clangs two sword blades together above Ogdens head but the insensate dwarf only grunts. Finally, Shelby kicks him in the gut and he awakens with a start.
Breakfast is as uneventful as the evening before. The inn does seem to be busy. A pair of flutists play a melody while everyone eats, perhaps to keep the ghost satiated. Laria eats quietly and trys hard not to stare too intently at the attire of the gentry and ladies. She can't imagine ever wearing anything cut so scandalously low as that, exposing the bosom, and desperately hopes to see a woman wearing something modest but fine, that might actually allow her space to hide a blade.
An early start sees a very reluctant Garrett being marched off between his two brothers to the surgeon. Scalpel lane seems an ominously, quiet place, which passers by scurry through with unseemly haste. Once in a while the air is rent by the odd scream or yell. Garrett looks particularly pale after each such disturbance, while Ogden and his brothers inspect the various name-plates by the doors, looking for a certain Dr Alnwick. Eventually they find Dr Alnwick’s door. A plump young woman, scrupulously clean, answers the door and ushers them in. The hallway is cluttered with boxes containing wooden peg hooks and other other replacement limbs. As they are led into the surgical room, they see that one half has the look of a carpenters workshop, with saws, files, off-shoots and even paint tidied away in orderly fashion on the worktop. Garrett starts to visibly shake.
Fortunately, the second half of the room is far more to be expected. A large board with several dark brown stains stands beneath a large bay window, with marvellously fine and even glass panels that admit excellent natural light. All the surgical tools are laid out neatly on a white cloth while unused linen bandages soak in a mixture of honey and egg-white. Iah approves.
The doctor enters briskly and does his work. He examines Garrett's entire body with hand and eye, looking for other, unseen wounds. He proceeds to trim off a few of Garrett's finger stumps with a bone saw, and measures the dimensions of his still raw eye-socket with a thin wooden needle notched with measurements, with which he roots about in the vacent socket. Needless to say his brothers and Ogden have a hard time holding him down.
The whole procedure costs 50 silver, but Garrett will be provided with a glove with metal false fingers, ivory teeth and an expertly painted glass eye. However, Garrett will have to return in one month for the glass eye and the false teeth. Given the trauma of the examination (several bone stumps filed and sawn, a few teeth removed, a needle-poking around in a still weeping eye socket, cauterization and sewing of the remnants of an ear) the doctor insists the boy is not to be removed and should be collected tomorrow.
Content that his brother is in good hands, Shelby takes Iah, Ogden and Laria to the nobles quarter where, due to the less than appropriate garb of his companions, he has to bribe the guards a silver-apiece to get them in. Shelby is a particularly fine dresser. Iah explains to Shelby that she is looking for a complete wardrobe for herself and Laria and a few items for Ogden. However, she has a special request- she is looking for someone who might design outfits for Laria that would be appropriate for her sex and station as companion to lady, but which would also offer concealment for several weapons.
Shelby, being something of a rake in the making, knows just the place. Lyza, the proprietress of Silken Dreams, somehow managed to drag herself up from mending hems in the alienage (a Elfen ghetto) to making dresses for the nobility. Shelby winks slyly and admits that, while she certainly has a gift for embroidery and fashion, one has to wonder where on earth a stinking knife-ear got the money for that sort of social leap.
Silken Dreams proves to be a very busy shop. Iah and her companions must wait outside for no less than two hours before being ushered in by an impeccably dressed young woman in a rich, colourful gown and silver tiara. Splendid as this young woman is, her beauty simply pales in comparison to that of her own mistress. Lyza herself is everything an elf is in the ancient tales in supposed to be. Beautiful, poised, graceful, serene. Her long blonde hair flows freely down her back, her fair skin, so pale as to make it seem as though she has never spent a single day in sunlight, is enhanced by skilfully understated make-up. The silver wires bound into her magnificent golden locks alone must cost a small fortune, and the jewels decorating her magnificent tiara match perfectly the amethyst of her eyes.
The attendant looks them up and down meaningfully and enquires: “Are you sure you have the correct shop?”
Lyza herself hushes the girl and glides forward with near-ethereal grace while Shelby rather obviously shakes his fulsome purse. When Iah explains what she wants (the beginnings of a complete wardrobe) and when she wants it (at least some of it by tomorrow) Lyza smiles demurely and, offering her hand, welcomes the daughter of Lady Nimue to her shop.
Iah, Lyria, Ogden and Shelby all gape.
“How... how did you know me?” Iah can only gasp out.
“My dear,” the dressmaker beams with teeth so polished they could be mother of pearl, “Who else would need a whole new wardrobe in less than a day? Now, we shall have to shut the shop. No other custom today,” she instructs her attendants, “We have a long, long night ahead of us.”
After Iah explains what she needs for Laria, Lyza smiles in a conspiratorial fashion and admits she “understands perfectly”. A dizzying whirlwind of activity, the dressmaker makes decisions on cloth and colour without consultation, sends her girls out to buy appropriate jewellery discusses hair-styles and generally leaves Iah and Laria absolutely bewildered and delighted. Shelby beams, obviously pleased with himself, as Iah and Laria are treated as queens for perhaps the first time in their lives. Meanwhile, Ogden's measurements are taken (by Lyza's youngest apprentice). Once these are completed, Shelby takes him off to Torr's Armoury.
The dwarf's eyes practically pop out of his head at the quality of the workmanship – far better even than anything his own father could produce. After learning that it will take at least a month of near-daily fittings for plate-mail to be made to order by the massive, bronze-bearded human for whom the shop is named, he contents himself with a new hauberk, boots and helm of heavy mail which is altered to fit while he waits. It's expensive, but Shelby explains that Lady Nimue was quite generous in allocating the squires funds for the purpose of outfitting Lady Iah. Although, he is quick to point out, they were only expecting to have to outfit Lady Iah.
By the time Ogden returns to Silken Dreams, the ladies court clothes for the morrow are ready and the girls are now dressed in everyday clothes more appropriate to their new-found stations. While Lyza and her girls promise to work through the night so that they have at least a partial wardrobe for travelling to Iah's new lands in the next few days (wherever they may be) the elf also reminds them that she will be sending two of her girls round in the morning to fix their hair. Shelby pales when he hears the bill, and hastily attempts to stammer out that he doesn't have anywhere near so much money as that. But the street-wise elf shushes the lad before he can gather his wits. Smiling warmly at Iah, Lyza notes that she has it on good authority that “The daughter of Lady Nimue's credit is good.” Feeling they have made a friend, the girls leave the shop in the company of Ogden and Shelby and, at the Noble Quarter gates, once again hire torch-bearing guides to lead them safely through the darkening city streets.
Bright and early the next morning an honour guard of 12 knights in full armour, with Rolland at it’s head, arrive at the Inn. To his surprise, Fossett (who helped his brother home with the assistance of a few hired men the night before) announces that the ladies are nearly ready. It seems that Lyza was as good as her word – her girls arrived before dawn.
Rolland visits the squires and is glad to see Garrett looking far better than he expected after learning of his minor surgery. He tells Ogden he will have to comb and braid his beard as it looks like a hedgerow. It is at that moment that the two girls enter the boys room, and Rollands jaw verily touches the floor for a moment before he recovers his wits. Iah is resplendent in a gown of amethyst silk, cut low to reveal tantalising hints of flesh while remaining remarkably modest as befits a former oblate. However, the gown reveals just enough to tantalise the imagination, and in combination with Iah's wonderfully applied make-up and coiffed hair, it seems he must be looking at a different woman. And then his eyes are drawn to Laria, and his jaw near repeats the self-same motion of a moment before. Her transformation is, perhaps, even more astounding than that of Iah. For she wears tight brown breaches that do well to show off her finely shaped calves, while a split frock coat of green and cream is fastened long enough to leave her shapely, swords-woman thighs in shadow. The long hems of the frock coat split away to either side of her legs and train backwards to flow behind her, never quite low enough to touch the floor. Over this she wears a stomacher of cream satin embroidered with thorn bush of black roses. A wide brown belt holds her dagger and a sword.
Seeing his glazed expression pass from one to the other, Iah, though herself flustered, glows over her shoulder at the blushing Laria and adds that “Lyza believes Laria shall start a new fashion.”
Looking at Laria, in her elegant yet un-confining and modest outfit which, as a soldier himself, he can quite plainly see would not restrict her movements in battle, Rolland can't help but wonder what his comments back at the Bandit camp might have started.
He kisses the hand of each lady in turn, but is startled when Iah offers her arms first to Garrett. The boy, equally startled, is quick to take it. He beams broadly, despite his many missing teeth, when his mistress comments that his new eye-patch and black satin gloves make him look quite dashing.
Brief hilarity ensures when the Bann thereafter offers his own arm to Laria. She looks panicked for a moment, not knowing what she's supposed to do, when Rolland leans in closer and whispers quietly that she should slip her own hand into the crook of his elbow. Red-faced but relieved, Laria allows Rolland to steer her downstairs after Iah and Garrett, where they board the Bann's coach for the short ride across the merchants quarter.
Ironshield House is more like a small keep than an actual town-house. Rolland explains that the House is head-quartered in the Free Cities, but that the banking family is the most powerful and most reputable in Ferelden, whose other lending houses are almost all run either by criminals or by elfs. The party – Rolland, squires and convent-fellows- are led through many corridors barred by thick metal doors by an honour guard of six, black-garbed Free-City duellists. Eventually they are lead into a small chamber, where a reed thin man in red robes and a black hat sits behind a large desk. About twenty chairs are arranged in three rows before his desk, each covered in red velvet, while marble sculptures and oil-portraits line the walls.
Rolland indicates that Iah should join him in the front row. Ogden, Laria and the squires take their seats in the second and third rows behind Iah. After only a few brief moments they hear the sounds of a petulant argument from outside the room. Thereafter, the door is thrown open and an eighteen year old youth, his silver-hair bound behind him in a pony-tail, stalks into the chamber and down the isle. His appearance is unmistakable. The family resemblance obvious. Save for the silver-hair, this boy is the male-doppleganger of Iah. He paces down the isle, his face a mask of hatred. The youth seems almost ready to assault Iah when a grey-bearded old Patriarch, bald and dressed all in black, places a hand on the youths shoulder, quietening him.
The old-man spares a brutal glare for Bann Rolland, who stands to return the grey-beard's gaze unflinchingly, his eyes equally hate-filled. The House guards place their hands on their weapons, long thin swords the likes of which Iah has never before seen, the message clear. Yet all three men take -or resume- their seats without further incident. Despite Iah's questions, Rolland will say no more other than to confirm that this is indeed Malegaunt, and the old man with him an advisor every bit as black-hearted as the lad himself.
Not long after, loud-clumping foot-steps can be heard approaching. As the party turn to look over their shoulders, they see a broad-shouldered dwarf, his beard every bit as wild as Ogden's had been earlier that morning, stomp into the room. He pauses in the door way for a second, giving all present a good opportunity to take in his ornate full plate armour and the diamond-toothed warmaul hanging across his back. The dwarf unfolds his arms and places them on his hips, sending glares towards Malegaunt and his advisor, who pointedly ignore him. Yet the gesture reveals the white and blue griffon picked out in gems upon the dwarfs breastplate.
“Grand Master Dolgan.” Rolland whispers. “Head of Fereldan's Grey Wardens”.
As Ogden oggles the dwarf's expensive armour and weapons, Dolgan burps loudly, and takes a seat in the third row, his back to a corner of the room, and waits in sullen silence.
Rolland rises from his seat soon after, a welcoming grin splitting his features, at the entrance of a red-headed priestess of middle years. The two embrace fondly for a moment, and Rolland introduces the woman as his aunt, Mother Superior Thenestra, High Priestess of Denerim's Cathedral. The woman's eyes well-up at the sight of Iah, whom she remarks is the very double of her mother at the same age. Thenestra insists on giving Iah a warm hug and whispers Iah's mother loved her daughter very much. Iah herself is a little over-whelmed, first by this woman's greeting and then by her comments about her mother, but perhaps by now she is beginning to realise what a sacrifice her mother made to ensure her safety.
Finally the last witness arrives accompanied by a great many armed courtiers. Four take-up position inside the door. The rest are made to wait outside by the black garbed Iron-Shield guardians. At first glance, the individual they escort appears to be a boy of no more than 8 or 9 years, but as he draws closer his age is belied by a full growth of beard. Everyone hurries to their feet and bows low. This is Prince Alistair, King Leopolds nephew and only heir.
Only now does the man behind the desk make any move to speak. With an imperious gesture, he summons forward two servants, each carrying a red velvet cushion. Upon one sits a small, locked chest. Upon the other, a key.
With the two items set down on the desk before him, the representative of House Ironshield applies on to the other and produces a rolled piece of parchment. After lifting the parchment high to display the intact seal, he opens the document and begins to read:
THE LAST WILL AND TESTEMENT OF LADY NIMUE ANNORRA
ARLESSA OF IRONKEEP AND BANNORA OF RESTENFORD
Be it know that, in accordance with the law, I leave to my vile and in-conscionable son my everlasting scorn -as befits one torn from me in so vile a manner and sired by so evil and repugnant a man as Arl Osfric – only those lands that remain rightfully his by law. Namely the Arldom of Iron Keep.
Even before this portion of the will is finished, there is a stir from the corner of the room in which Malegaunt sits. Despite the hand of his elder companion upon his shoulder, the boy seems eager, desperate even, to leave his seat. As soon as his inheritance of Iron Keep is confirmed, the lad leaps from his seat and stocks from the room, his companions hurrying behind him. The lad stops, briefly, for but a second to launch a ball of spit towards Iah. Rolland is nearly out of his seat by this point, but Thenestra restrains him and Ogden feels both Foccett and Shelby lean their weight against him. In moments, the youth is gone from the room.
The Will's reader seems barely irked by this interruption. Quite content to wait for this unruly youth to leave before returning his gaze to the parchment he holds and, once again, proceeding to read.
Let it also be known that as my widows portion I retain and have claimed for myself the lands of the Bann of Restenford. These I leave to my first-born and natural daughter, whose name and identity at this time I know not but who was named Annorra at her birth. I leave it to my faithful and trusty servants, Squires Garrett, Shelby and Fossett Unuthstill, to fetch my beloved daughter from her hiding place in the Abbey of Ever-Lasting Flame and bear her hence to the reading of this will and her investment as heiress of Restenford.
At this, Iah raises her hand to her mouth, until now unaware that she bore a different birth-name from that she has now. Behind her, Laria places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, which Iah pats in grateful acknowledgement of her support.
You shall know her by her strong resemblance to me in my youth and by the ring, my ancestral signet, which she carries with her. You shall know her also by the testimony of Grand Master Dolgan of the Grey Wardens, Bann Rolland Henli of Blackwood and by testimonies, in person or by letter, of the Abbess of the Everlasting Flame and Ser Farradin, Templar, of that place and by the oath of Mother Thanestra, Mother-Cardinal of the Chantry Cathedral in Denerrim.
At this, the IronShield looks up from his Will, checking off a mental list as he looks about the room. “I do not see Abbess Amelia or Ser Farradin at this time. Do we have their letters of testimony and Lady Nimue's signet ring?”
“Yes, yes I do!” Declares Iah hurriedly, and with a trace of triumph in her voice. One of the black-garbed guards examines the ring closely before returning it to Iah with a nod of satisfaction while another hands the two letters to the will-reader. The thin official spends a few moments reading over the will in silence, impressing all present by his ability to read the will without having to pronounce the words aloud. After a few moments, he grunts and sets the letters aside. “The testimonies are in order. Does any here dispute the identity of the Lady Annora....”
“Iah” Iah interjects.
The will-readers reaction is to scribble a simple annotation. “So noted. Lady Iah once called Annora. Any objections as to Lady Iah's identity?” Having received no objections, (perhaps why Lady Nimue was so at pains to insult her son in the opening paragraph of the will) he returns to reading the will.
To this daughter Annorra – now Iah - I leave my widows portion, the Bann of Restenford and all the lands, monies and taxes therein. To her also I leave my treasury, banked with this noble House of Iron Shield, that it might be put to better use in strengthening the defences of Restenford rather than building the armies of Iron-keep. I grant her all rights as heiress as is my right in the law as a three-times widow. I name Bann Rolland Henli of Blackwood as her overlord before all for these lands of Restenford, and the King as Rolland's overlord thereafter.
There is a brief rustle at this last part, as of people shifting in their seats, however, Rolland seems entirely unsurprised and smiles re-assuringly at Iah. “Trust me,” he mouths.
Yet to be worthy of this generous act, I demand from my daughter certain worthy deeds in return.
One, that she Knight Squire's Garrett, Shelby and Fossett of Unuthstill forthwith upon being ratified heiress of Restenford by the King and that she undertake to provide for them as long as they provide her service in turn.
“Done. And gladly!” Iah again.
Second, that she give immediately the Manor of Mosston in “perpetual gift” to my lord Bann Rolland Henli of Blackwood, naming my daughter as his overlord for this manor with the King in turn my daughters overlord for Mosston. Should he refuse this gift, then shall Restenford belong to my son and Rolland's days as Bann of Blackwood be most likely short.
There is a stunned silence for a moment as the ramifications of this sink in. Then the room erupts in laughter, even the man reading the will permits himself a small smile. Iah, Ogden and Laria are the only ones who seem utterly lost. Rolland looks rueful for a moment, but then seeing the look of Iah's face he cannot help but join the laughter.
“What?” Iah asks, but Rolland can only shake his head, part in wonder, part in admiration.
Behind them, Grand Master Dolgan roars out. “By the Stone! I'll miss playing chess with that woman!”
To Dolgan, for his service as witness, I leave my ivory and onyx chess board and pieces. I do so know how much you shall miss our games of chess.
The room erupts again, and this time it is master Dolgan who is at first stunned, and then laughing loudest. The burly dwarf actually slaps his thigh in sheer joyful amusement. Iah especially has tears in her eyes – but not just from laughter. She has never felt closer to her mother at this moment, at this sign of unexpected, insight and humour. A warm glow surrounds her, almost as if Nimue were in the room with her and she were enfolded in her arms..
To Rolland I leave my love and gratitude for his many years of faithful friendship. You have already gained much at my hand. Protect my daughter as you protected me. Prove yourself worthy of your promises to, and of the trust in which I hold you.
Beside her, Iah sees a lump form in Rolland's throat. He nods, as though making a silent promise to himself - or to an absent friend.
To Mother-Cardinal Thenestra, I leave my eternal and undying love, my collection of letters, journals and diaries and my illuminated copy of the Prophets Life. May we meet again in a more spiritual place.
Thenestra, herself sitting next to Iah on the opposite side from Rolland, lifts a linen handkerchief to her eye, tears unabashedly running down her cheek. Her mouth forms the silent words: “Goodbye dearest Nimue. Farewell.”
To the King, my once love, I leave only my regrets that our lives did not unfold as we had planned so many years ago. The love I bore you then I bear still, it's intensity diminished by time, perhaps, but burning still.
The thin man looks up from his reading. "That is all." And so the will-reader sets his signature and seal to the will, leaving the room briefly to have copies made. To be signed and sealed by all present, as witnesses. As Rolland rises from his seats, Iah asks Thenestra to explain the reason for all that laughter when it was announced Rolland was to have one of her manors from her.
The Mother-Superior can only grin and smile. “You're only heiress to Restenford. Not the actual Bann. Though you are the de-facto Bann until you are married. Rolland, as your overlord, gets to marry you off to whomever he should choose.” She smirks, “Even himself.”
Iah gapes, but Thenestra quickly continues. “Of course, now that you're his overlord, he can`t marry without your permission. So he'd better not go picking your husband for you unless he wants to spend his life a batchelor!” The woman chuckles. “Poor Rolland. But oh how I'll miss your mother!” She is still chuckling to herself when she rises to greet Dolgan.
Behind her, Iah sits in wonder. For the first time in her life, she feels she has learned something of her mother. Her wit. Her canniness, her obvious affection for those she counted friends – her love affair with a king! More of all, Iah has learned that her mother truly loved her. For Nimue has given her the greatest gift of all. Something she herself did not have until far too late in life.
Freedom.
