Dragon's Era- No Man's Land Page 9

  No... he wouldn't... surely not...

  "Before I leave, however," said Cousland, "I wish to answer Loghain's accusations. That I am an agent of Astrid is so absurd, and so far beneath contempt that I dislike even to speak of it. How can one prove one's innocence against such an accusation? Loghain prefers to think me a traitor because I am in his way. Because I disagree. Because I was conscripted and forced in the the Grey Wardens the day of the battle of Ostagar, and Loghain decided to blame the Grey Wardens for that disaster. I think there is a great deal of blame to go around, and playing that game prevents us from dealing with the darkspawn threat like grown men. What can I say but this: if I were in the pay of the Orlesians, would I be reduced to Chantry board errands to feed my companions? Would I be scavenging armor and weapons? Would I be walking the length and breadth of our country to gather support? Think carefully about what I, as a Cousland, could actually have done, had I decided to sell my sword and allegiance to the Empress."

  There was an uneasy murmur.

  "Yes, I could claim the throne. I have the best legitimate claim by right of blood. Freya's only claim to the throne is that she was sitting on it, and her own father by his assumption of the Regency has declared her unfit to be Queen. Hear me! Do you the think the Empress would be put off by a mere thing like my Grey Warden recruitment, if she thought she could use me as a client King? I have been far more loyal than you deserve, for I see no one here who has kept faith with my family."

  "But Cormac—" Bryland protested.

  Cousland shouted him down. "Not one of you! Not one of you banns, sworn to the Couslands! Not one of you, my kinsmen! Not one of you who put my father's name forward to be your king! Instead that mad dog Rendon Howe murders my family and there is a great hush. First the rumors are of a band of renegade mercenaries. Then Howe is granted the teyrnir of Highever, and then he prattles of "treason!" and you allowed it. When no Cousland was in evidence to grant you favors and lend his support to your own interests, you could not be troubled to see justice done."

  "It is no justice," Loghain snarled, "to kill a man in his own house!"

  "That's exactly what I say!" Cousland shot back. "And my father, stabbed in the back in his own house as he sat over his wine with a friend, would have agreed with you! Though I don't recall you saying anything of the sort to Rendon Howe the day he came with you to confront me at Arl Eamon's estate! The man who murdered my family gloated about it to my face. You were there, and Arl Eamon was there, when I demanded my blood rights, and that base coward sneered and told me I 'had no rights!' What did you think would happen, with such provocation? Did you think I creep away and blubber like a baby? Would you?"

  Loghain paused, and then said nothing.

  Cousland raised his right hand. "With this hand I struck Rendon Howe dead. Nothing do I deny! The man who boasted of the murder of the Couslands fell to my sword. Yes, I killed him. I met him sword to axe, and once again I proved that a Cousland will always be a better man than a Howe. You might say it was vengeance, but I say not so!"

  He sneered. "Vengeance requires a certain balance. I met Howe in honorable combat, outnumbered and face to face. I did not slip a dagger into the kidney of an unarmed and unsuspecting man! I did not send ruffians to kill every member of his family! Was Lady Delilah raped and slaughtered—targeted deliberately, as my sister-in-law was? Was Lord Thomas surprised in his bed and gutted? And it was worse than that! When I found Oriana as I fought my way through the family apartments, I found that they had stabbed that dangerous traitor, my six-year-old nephew, in front of her, and were holding up his lifeless little body to taunt her, as they tore at her like the vilest of beasts! Had I been there for vengeance, I could have made it bloody indeed. I slew a traitor and a danger to us all. I freed his prisoners, some of whom are dear to members of the Landsmeet! I uncovered his secret evil acts—the illegal murders, the kidnappings of nobles, the enslavement of the Alienage elves —of which I prefer to believe that our esteemed Loghain had no knowledge."

  "The Warden speaks truly!" shouted Bann Sighard. "When I saw what Howe had done to my poor boy..."

  "And my brother," said Bann Alfstanna, her voice choked with grief.

  Cousland bowed to them in acknowledgement. He shot Loghain a malicious smile.

  I know that you were in it, up to your neck...

  Instead, he said what was far more important to him. "Howe was given to the fire with all decent rites. My family, as I understand it, is rotting in a Highever midden, along with all their soldiers and innocent, unarmed servants, for Howe wanted no witnesses to his crimes. That they lie there still with no more regard than you give dead cattle I call a shame upon all of you, their quondam friends, and also a shame upon the Chantry, which did not bestir themselves to offer prayers for the dead who had supported them so generously in life."

  Flushing, the Grand Cleric opened her mouth... and then shut it. It was one thing to claim Chantry neutrality. It was another to behave neutrally, and she knew that the Revered Mother of Highever had feared Rendon Howe, and that her silence implied approval of his bloody deeds. Nonetheless, the Cousland boy should show more respect. It was unfortunate that he had surrounded himself with heretics and apostates and unbelievers. A sad thing. He could have claimed sanctuary from the Chantry, and could have survived, protected, had he taken vows as a Templar. Little chance of that, now...

  Cousland's words burned on. "Howe murdered my family, not because his accusations against them had any truth to them, but because they were baseless. My father had already sent the Highever troops on to Ostagar. Nothing prevented Howe from arresting my father and presenting him to the King for justice, if he truly had evidence against him. But all Howe had to accuse my father with was his own burning envy, my father's diplomatic successes, and my mother's silk gown. He was not interested in proving treason: he was interested in stealing Highever. And many of you were complicit in this by your silence. Not a wise precedent, I must say, for he could have easily done the same to you, and would have, given time. He boasted to me of his plans for our esteemed Regent, once Loghain had eliminated the darkspawn for him. And his plans for our unmarried Queen? I will not offend your ears by repeating them, but the essence of it was that Howe's ambition knew no bounds."

  The room exploded with speculation, shrill cries of "I knew it!" and questions about where the Queen was at the moment.

  Cousland was not done. He made a gesture of dismissal, and raised his voice again.

  "So much for Rendon Howe! He's dead and no more threat to any of us. The evil he did lives on. The man did his best to distract everyone from the danger of the darkspawn, and the lives lost in consequence are on his head. Enough of him. I make no apologies. I wish to speak now of Loghain's other accusations.

  "As to the charge that Grey Wardens were traitors…well, I cannot speak for the men who died at Ostagar. I had been a Warden less than a day, and was not exactly high in their councils. However, I will point out that it's a damned silly plan to betray the king and the army, in order to be killed doing it. What possible benefit could it be to dead men, to betray the King? On the other hand, it's all too true that the world is full of fools."

  "Who was responsible for Ostagar, then?" demanded Bann Frandarel.

  Loghain stared hard at the young Warden.

  Cousland answered promptly. "The darkspawn, of course!" He barked a laugh at the puzzled assembly. "What? You don't like that answer? Well, it's true. The darkspawn are responsible. Any of you who were actually there know that they swarmed out of the earth in vast numbers. It was impossible to guess at the army they could field, because it was impossible to effectively scout an army under the ground. Alistair and I were sent on a mission that was supposed to be perfectly safe; but the darkspawn had undermined the Tower of Ishal, andit was completely invested before we even arrived. The horde that boiled out of the ground to overwhelm the King's army was simply bigger than anyone could have expected. Pointing fingers wi
ll not alter that fact. They killed King Cailan, who insisted on fighting in the vanguard, contrary to Loghain's advice. They killed Duncan and the other Wardens. They want to kill everyone in this room if they can... except for some of the women. When we are more at leisure, sometime, I'll have to tell you in detail what darkspawn do to women prisoners. To the women here, I simply say, do not allow yourselves to be taken alive. They care nothing about your noble birth, or your beauty or wit or virtue or holy vows. You're nothing but egg sacs to them."

  Anxious female voices rose, most of them determined to hear it all as soon as possible.

  "However," said Cousland, "Ostagar is the past: let us consider our present situation, which is quite bad enough. It is true that the Orlesian Wardens had linked their assistance with the admission of Orlesian Imperial troops. That is outrageous and unacceptable, but it has nothing to do with me! We already know that Orlesians are not to be trusted. And the Grey Wardens in Weisshapt? Why have you not heard from them? Why have I not heard from them? What have they to gain by making themselves look weak and ineffective?"

  "Are you saying that you haven't heard from the other Wardens?" demanded Bann Alstanna.

  "Not a word," Cousland replied. "No. I tell a lie. In Howe's dungeons, as I was freeing the prisoners, I came across an Orlesian Warden named Riordan. He had come to Ferelden— alone— to open negotiations with Rendon Howe. Anything about that seem strange to you? It certainly did to me!"

  Loghain could not help it. He had to ask. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that anyone who knew anything about Rendon Howe knew that he hated Wardens as much as he hated Orlesians. His own father abandoned his family to join the Wardens when Rendon was a boy, and Rendon never forgave him— or them — for it. Whenever he visited Highever, my brother and I were forbidden to play Wardens and Darkspawn, lest we upset him! Why would the Grey Wardens send their emissary to the man who hated them even more than Loghain does? Unless, of course, they meant to offend, and they meant to harden resistance to their offers, while they could claim Fereldan intransigence and bigotry?"

  Loghain saw it at once, though his head was spinning. Rather than acting as a mouthpiece for the Grey Warden order, this young man seemed as suspicious of them as Loghain himself. "You are saying that they did not intend to negotiate in good faith."

  "I don't think they mean to negotiate at all. They sacrificed one of their own—the man himself, who is Fereldan-born, I believe was acting in good faith—anyway, they sacrificed him to give the appearance to the rest of Thedas that they were doing their duty, when their intentions were far more sinister.

  "No, my lords and ladies! It won't do! Rather than fear foreign interference, I find more ominous the utter silence of the rest of Thedas, and above all the perfect silence of the First Warden. My movements have not exactly been secret, but from him I have heard not a word. Couriers from nobles, assassins from enemies, petitioners begging help: all these have found me easily enough, but no other Grey Warden in all Thedas, not even in this time of Blight. Ferelden has thousands of miles of coastline. It would be the easiest thing in the world to land a troop of Wardens on a deserted beach and send them to our aid. Yet the First Warden has not done so. Why?"

  A breathless silence.

  "Here is my analysis, and it is a grim one. The rest of the Grey Wardens have abandoned Ferelden to its fate. They wish to make an example of us. The Orlesian named Riordan told me as much, though he framed it in finer words. They know that only a Warden can slay an Archdemon, and yet they do not come. They know that only two junior Wardens survived Ostagar, and yet they do not come. It is the only Blight we've got: the first in four hundred years! What are they waiting for?

  "You heard me say that only a Warden can kill an Archdemon. I assure you that it's true. It is a fact, known for ages by the Wardens, but not revealed to Alistair or me by Duncan, who did not believe in disclosing the deepest secrets of our order until a Warden had spent a year in service. He did not disclose them, even the night before the battle, when surely he must have known that anything could happen. Instead, the two of us blundered about in dismal ignorance, using our ancient treaties as best we could, until our researches led us to ancient codices in deserted castles, in the Deep Roads, and in the Shaperate of Orzammar. There is much we cannot tell you outright, for we am sworn to secrecy, and we honor our oaths, though others do not. Thus, I do not expect you to believe us. What we discovered was fairly shocking. However, I urge you all to take an independent, objective look at the history of the Blights, how they ended, and the subsequent careers of those who slew the Archdemons. Most especially, I urge to look very carefully at the history of the First Blight, and consider why it might be that the Tevinters, lords of the greatest armies the world has ever known, could not put paid to one dragon.

  "The Grey Wardens were banished from Ferelden for over two hundred years, until King Maric readmitted them twenty years ago. I think it entirely possible that the First Warden has never even met a Fereldan. What the Grey Wardens of Weisshaupt believe about us is what they have heard from our neighbors in Astrid: that we are a rebellious province, a thinly settled land of savages, thus no loss to the civilized countries of Thedas. It may indeed seem to the First Warden that there is little to be gained by rescuing us against our will. However, if he were to stand back and let Ferelden be destroyed, what an object lesson that would be! What a spur to future tithes!

  "Astrid has nothing at all to gain by helping us. Instead, I believe that they are smugly waiting on their borders. Waiting for the Archdemon to come and to give them everything they desire at no cost to themselves: glory to their own Wardens for overcoming the Blight, and an uninhabited land to the east, ripe for colonization."

  The panic was beginning. Even Loghain was shaken.

  "You're saying that we're doomed?" gasped Bann Ceorlic.

  "No! I'm saying that the Blight cannot be stopped without slaying the Archdemon, and that only Alistair or I can do that. We're all you've got, because no other Wardens have come forward. Nor will they, unless we consent to an invasion of Orlesian chevaliers, which no sane Fereldan would agree to. I'm saying that we need to fight the darkspawn instead of one another. I'm saying that in the end, it doesn't much matter who rules Ferelden, if no Ferelden is left anyway. Alistair and I are Wardens, and thus neither of us can be King. Pick whichever ruler you want. I'm done with flattering and bribing people who don't have the sense to defend their own country and their own lives. The Archdemon is on the move. We are out of time."

  "But..." Arl Eamon protested. "Alistair! You're Maric's son! It's your duty—"

  "I'm a Warden!" Alistair exploded, years of resentment bursting forth. "I grew up in your stables! I'm a serving-girl's son! I wasn't raised to be King. I wouldn't have the first idea how to do it. Cormac would be a better King than I ever could be, but he's a Warden, too! Wardens are what this country needs right now, or you're all going to die! I hate Loghain more than I can say, but Cormac made me see that it's more important to save the country than to seek revenge on one man. Yes, this is better: it's better to show him for what he is: a power-hungry old man, still fighting the last war, blind to everything else! We don't need him!" Red with anger, he faced Loghain. "We don't need you! If my father were alive, he'd say the same!"

  Enraged, Loghain's hand immediately went to his sword. Cousland shouted for silence.

  "We're not here to fight you, Loghain! I came here to give you the truth, if you can handle it! I came to tell you all what I thought of all of you — which is not much! I except Arl Wulffe, who has been trying to fight the darkspawn with precious little help from anyone else! I came to defend my family's good name, since our friends and relations couldn't be bothered. I came to tell you that while Astrid and Weisshaupt wait for us to die, like great swollen spiders by their webs, I will not be party to the death of Ferelden. Let Loghain sit on a throne, if that is what he craves most in life. As for the Wardens, we are going south to le
ad the army we've raised, and this very day. Let those who still love this country, join us."

  * * *

  Note: It is understandable why in canon the Warden PC does not address the Landsmeet him/herself, except to respond to questions and make a few remarks. In the one-size-fits-all scenario, it doesn't work, since only Cousland would conceivably have the standing to do so.

  In this iteration, the Wardens' dream have shown them that the invasion is imminent. Cousland has talked sensibly and at length to Alistair as they made friends. I've always believed that Alistair will become what the PC Warden makes of him. Cousland didn't coddle Alistair with the pandering answers that one uses in canon to make Alistair "like" you. (Nor did he tell Alistair something so awful and stupidly facile as "Everyone is out for himself. You need to understand that") He didn't pass over the hysterical attacks on Loghain ("He killed his King! He killed Duncan!") without giving his own reasoned analysis of what had actually happened. Nor did he spare Cailan, whom he held largely responsible for the fiasco. The Chantry, also, interfered in the signaling protocol, which ended up being a single-point-of-failure boondoggle. That doesn't mean that Cousland thinks particularly well of Loghain. He doesn't. However, he really doesn't think well of any other Fereldan nobleman, either (except possibly Arl Wulffe), or even well of Fereldans in general. Remember that no Fereldan human non-magical ever offers to join with the Warden party. Various Fereldans whine and plead and demand that the Warden do things for them, but the party is composed of mages, foreigners (no matter what Wanda claims), and other species. It really doesn't speak well for Ferelden as a whole, and this Cousland is quite sensitive and perceptive. And he is very embittered by his family's murder, and the utter lack of response to it.