The walk back to Skyhold was not a pleasant one.
The few scouts that joined them along the way helped secure their prisoner. Decius Catus. Rom knew him, but didn't know he'd joined the Venatori. It had been a number of years since last they met, and when he'd lived in Minrathous they hadn't regularly spoken about anything. Chryseis's alliance with the man's father was the most common thing that brought them together. In any case, he was an enemy now, and one they needed to handle with care. If he had been dispatched to follow Chryseis by Marcus himself, there was a good chance he had information that could help them.
He wasn't subtle in his avoidance of Chryseis on the road back. There was more than enough space for them to remain out of speaking distance the whole way, which he did. Working out their differences while still cooling from the heat of a fight would be unwise. They had a job to take care of first, and it was more important than anything she'd done to him in their history.
By the time they passed through Skyhold's gates again it was morning, and the fortress was waking up. Their return had obviously been announced before they reached the walls, as guards were there to meet them, and several from the infirmary's staff to check for any wounded still in need of care. For now the wounds had been taken care of by Asala, leaving nothing that required more immediate attention.
"I don't suppose there's time for me to sleep?" Chryseis asked to no one in particular, as they started up the steps towards the keep.
"If you would care to, you certainly may, milady" Leon replied, tone polite but slightly dry. "But you'll understand if we prefer to conduct our pressing business as soon as possible. There are matters of considerable urgency at hand." The cut on his forehead had been repaired by a combination of Asala's magic and potions, but it was still faintly pink. He, like all of them, really needed a wash.
He gestured over a nearby pair of Templars, who approached swiftly. "Take Lord Catus to a holding cell, please, and have extra guards posted until I send for him." When custody of Decius was remanded, he let out a breath and returned his attention to them, smiling mildly. "There is time enough to refresh ourselves, at least. I'll have someone show Lady Viridius a room, if the rest of you would like to avail yourselves of the opportunity. We'll reconvene in the interrogation room in an hour."
As the words were basically permission for them all to leave, it wasn't all that surprising that Khari also took them as a cue to relax. She'd been watching him for most of the way back, though she'd made an effort not to be intrusive about it. It certainly hadn't escaped her how much distance he kept between himself and Chryseis, and more often than not, she'd situated herself in that space, much closer to his side of it. Now, though, she stretched her arms over her head and heaved a sigh. “I won't lie: I like this armor, but I'll be happy to be out of it." She dropped her hands, letting one of them land on his shoulder. “See you in an hour, then?"
"Yeah." His left hand still held his shield, so he reached across with his right to briefly grasp near her wrist. He was being more subdued than usual, but he trusted the contact would be enough to convey what he wanted. Khari didn't normally sit in on the discussions that took place in the war room among Inquisition leaders, but he knew no one would keep her out of this one, and Rom in particular probably wouldn't even do it unless she was there.
Her gear wasn't kept in the keep, so they split at the stairs, with Rom ducking his way towards the undercroft as soon as he was inside. One of the Skyhold staff had prepared a washcloth and a bucket of clean water for his return. It was cold, like anything around Skyhold was as they began to move out of the summer season. Washing it over his face helped rid him of the drowsiness that had begun to build behind his eyes, willing them shut if he allowed it. There was more work yet to be done.
He exited his quarters near an hour later without his armor, armed only with his regular blade at his hip. He didn't wear it normally, but today was not a normal day. He'd also chosen to put on boots instead of sandals he might've worn otherwise. Subtle things that he was kidding himself if he thought Chryseis wouldn't notice. The others surely would as well.
She met him on the walk from the keep, in the great hall, a bit of extremely unfortunate timing that allowed her to fall in step beside him. Chryseis was shorter than he was, but had no trouble keeping up with his swift pace of walking, which he certainly didn't try to slow for her. "I'm pleased you came for me," she said, as they made their way out of the front doors. "Not a moment too soon, either. Decius was starting to get impatient."
"We came because we need your help," he replied, not content to let her speak at him as she once might have.
"Which I have offered freely." She obviously took note of his tone, and replied in kind. "In fact, working against the Venatori has cost me no small amount. There had better be blood at the end of this trail. Marcus's. I trust you can get it."
"It is what I do best. You saw to that." He honestly hadn't meant it as a threat, but he wondered if she took it that way. Hunting powerful mages was what he was best at, what she'd trained him to do, what his purpose had been. Eventually even the threat of it was sometimes enough to get what Chryseis wanted.
The guards allowed them down into the dungeons. The stairs were just wide enough for them to walk side by side, but Rom allowed Chryseis to go ahead of him. They found the others outside of the interrogation room. It seemed they were the last to arrive. Alongside Leon and Khari were Estella, Rilien, and Cyrus, who had no doubt been made aware what had happened, and who their prisoner was.
"Cyrus," Chryseis greeted, placing a smile on her lips. "It's good to see you again. I trust my father is well? I heard the Inquisition chose to make use of his talents."
“Chryseis." Cyrus inclined his head slightly, his tone difficult to place. He did not wear the facade of ebullience quite so easily as he once had, the intervening years having done much to sober his demeanor. He did smile slightly though, and it seemed real enough. “Little changes Cassius, as I'm sure you know. In this, his extended stay with us has proven no different." The smile disappeared at that. “It seems that your end of things has been a sight more eventful than his, actually." The words invited elaboration without demanding it—though he know doubt knew the minimal details of what had occurred, there was much missing from such an accounting.
"Indeed." It seemed the pleasantries were over already. Chryseis never had cared for introductions where she didn't feel they were needed or wanted. Apparently that included walking into rooms with leaders of the Inquisition. "I was driven from my home in a brazen attack led by this rat in here." She gestured to the closed door of the interrogation room. "Decius Catus. Old acquaintance, never liked him much. Talented, but stupid. Only successful through following the orders of his master to the letter. His talents are not worthless, when directed properly." Rom knew that the two had also been matched together, or at least attempted to be, by their respective fathers, but it had happened in a period when Chryseis had no interest in anyone but herself, and to force the issue likely would've ended in disaster.
"Why did they attack you?" Rom asked. He'd put some space in between the two of them since entering the room, re-positioning to stand nearer to Khari.
Chryseis turned away from the door. "I slipped, as much as it pains me to admit. Pushed too hard. They caught wind of my investigation. One of my slaves went missing. Captured and tortured, I think, Marcus is supposed to be quite good at that. However it happened, I became a presence in Minrathous that couldn't be tolerated. There are elements in the city, in the Magisterium, that support them, and they are difficult to root out. The attack on my estate was not stopped. So long as they limit themselves, the Venatori do as they please. I was forced to flee, to carry my information to you. Your way into Minrathous."
"And that is?" A bit of impatience seeped into Rom's tone. He hadn't come to hear Chryseis's woes.
"By ship," she answered. "Two ships, actually, your pirate woman's vessel is too recognizable. You'll take it to Afsaana, little village on the Rialto in western Rivain, where you'll board a trade vessel by the name of Jezzabelle. Her crew has been paid for. She will take a small party back 'round the coast, and west to Minrathous. They'll guide you into a private dock, where a slave of my ally Bastian Catus will meet you, and take you into the city."
“Wait... Catus?" Khari glanced towards the interrogation room, which even now held a man of that same name, something which obviously hadn't escaped her. “You sure he wants to help the allies of an ally more than he'd want to help his own... what? Kid? Seems like things would go to shit real fast if you're wrong about that."
Chryseis narrowed her eyes for a moment, as though she hadn't at all expected the elf to speak, and didn't at all like what the elf had to say. "Yes, I'm sure. Their differences drove Decius to join the cult in the first place. And now we will be delivering him back home, provided he is useful to us. I expect Bastian will be thanking us. His manor in the city will be a safe place to rest and prepare. From there you can launch your attack on Marcus."
Leon nodded slowly, turning for a moment to Rilien. "Can you please ensure that some of the people we have in Rivain watch this trade vessel for a while? I'd at least like a bird if something looks off before we get there."
“Of course." Rilien nodded like it was obvious. Then again, considering his area of expertise, perhaps to him it was.
With a nod, Leon reverted his attention to the rest of the group. "As it is, this plan seems to hinge on securing Decius's cooperation. I suspect this will not be an easy thing to do. I've often found that stupid people can be more intractable than the smart ones, if only because they don't always see what is to their own benefit." He crossed his arms over his chest, shifting his weight a bit.
"It could be done without him, in the worst case scenario," Chryseis said, crossing her arms. "I've learned a fair amount about Marcus's magical defenses. Can't say I could bypass all of them with ease, but I believe I could get us in. But yes, having his cooperation would be ideal. That leaves the issue of securing it." She chose to look at the Lady Inquisitor finally, tilting her head up ever so slightly. "How is it your Inquisition normally handles these sorts of things?"
Estella cleared her throat softly. "We do not torture," she began, perhaps anticipating that such a question was likely to arise eventually. "In the cases where the subject of interrogation is particularly reticent, it is usually left to Leon or Rilien. Even if the rule is hard and fast, I do not delude myself into believing the subjects of interrogation are always... aware of that." No doubt much of the effectiveness the other two were able to demonstrate came from careful and assiduous use of the threat of prolonged pain, even if it was not actually an option.
A glint appeared in Rilien's hand, a rich golden potion in a small vial finding and reflecting back the room's light. “My methods are primarily alchemical. I have designed several tinctures that create varying levels of suggestibility, and another that makes it difficult to resist the urge to speak. These can be administered willingly or otherwise." He had not even a trace of Estella's merciful disposition, but it was clear enough that he was willing to follow her rules. “The downside is that he may be somewhat useless for some time after taking them. The side effects take a while to fade."
"I've also had some minor successes just... speaking to people. I do not know if that is likely to work here. You'd know better than I."
Chryseis hmmed both thoughtfully and with an undeniable hint of disappointment. Her eyes found Rom for a moment, and he resisted the urge to hide. Not that there was anywhere to hide here, but he had long dreaded this line of conversation coming about. Yet more from his past he'd never spoken of, about to come rearing back up. "I suppose the tinctures could help us glean information about the defenses I may have missed, but if his assistance is required in the city itself, we can't rely on drugging him. Hard to work complex magic in that state."
She glanced between Estella, Leon, and Rilien. "You don't torture, then? Seems you aren't making full use of your Lord Inquisitor's talents. Killing swiftly's not all he can do with a blade, after all." She settled her gaze on him. He imagined he looked like he was pleading her not to, and she immediately picked up on that. "You haven't told them, have you? Not surprising." She wandered a step towards the interrogation room, letting her fingers run across the surface of the door. "Romulus is an expert at inflicting pain. It's so much more visceral to work with a physical object than something magical. He can leave injures barely noticeable afterwards, yet cause excruciating pain that could make a member of the beresaad howl for mercy." She actually smiled a little at the thought.
"You're sure you won't make an exception? For your one ally in Minrathous? The father knows what the son's risked by betraying him like this. He might even do this himself after we deliver him."
“So fucking what?" Khari was just about snarling; it was clear that something about what Chryseis had just said had set her off, and the look on her face wasn't so different from the one she'd worn when that chevalier had insulted Asala. Worse.
Cyrus on her opposite side seemed to realize the same thing—he reached forward and gripped her by the shoulder, pulling backwards just enough that she had to make a decision about whether to resist or acquiesce to the obvious direction. For a very long, very still moment, it wasn't completely clear which one it would be, but in the end, her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she took the half-step backwards. “We're not sinking to anyone else's level. No exceptions for you fucks."
The man holding her sighed. “Yes, well, in any case, even from a purely pragmatic standpoint, we have a reputation to uphold. The long game, as it were. And while I know better than most people how effective pain is at ensuring compliance, it's quite risky. On the chance it fails, it tends to fail rather spectacularly."
"They're Venatori," was Chryseis's response, as though the word itself indeed carried a significant penalty as to their worth. "You'll skewer them in the back in roadside inns, but you won't inflict pain when it can gain you an advantage?" The idea seemed to confuse her greatly. "I'm so glad the Inquisition is preoccupied with childish notions of honor. Perhaps we'll offer Marcus a chance to properly arm himself before we attack? Warn the surrounding estates to stay off the streets an hour before we move?"
"This is pointless." Rom's voice cut through the small room louder than he intended it to, but he was not about to see words thrown back and forth between them until cooperation with Chryseis was no longer possible, let alone Decius. "It doesn't matter. Even if they wanted me to, I'm not torturing Decius."
"Then indeed, we are wasting time." She stepped away from the door, holding out her hands in invitation. "Do as you wish with him, and then let us prepare to leave. There are Venatori in my home that need to be killed."
Initially wordlessly, Rilien stepped past her, also apparently having decided that further discussion was unnecessary. “I will ply from him what may be plied. That may be all, but we will make do." So having said, he opened the door and disappeared within, letting it close softly behind him.
The preparations took only a day, and then the party setting out for the north made for Jader, and the Riptide. As far as the Irregulars went, it was a large excursion, but that was because there were multiple objectives to take care of. Estella, Vesryn, Cyrus, Harellan, and Astraia were boarding, but would be disembarking a day or so early, when they reached the northern edge of Arlathan Forest. He didn't envy their task any, even compared to his own. With him were Khari, Zahra, Leon, Asala, Chryseis, Decius, and the two most personally invested in the death of Marcus Alesius, the Dalish elf Ithilian, and the former Qunari Amalia. Welcome additions to any team.
For his part he'd been avoiding mostly everyone for the day of preparations, but Chryseis most of all. He wondered if some part of him had been broken, to serve so mindlessly a woman such as that. So consumed by her hatred and whatever target she chose to aim it at. That he used to find fulfillment in bringing her some measure of happiness, or her own near-equivalent, made him feel sick to his stomach. But the past was the past. Once this was done, it would hopefully be the past forever.
They were in Jader by midday after they left, departing Skyhold well before the sun came up. Before they'd left they received a letter from the Emperor of Orlais, Lucien Drakon, regarding a gift he planned to make, one that they could be in Jader to receive. Ships was the obvious answer. It remained apparent that having a friend such as Lucien Drakon was a key factor to the Inquisition's success.
For the moment Rom found himself on a hillside overlooking the sea, the docks not far below him, where Riptide was being prepared for the journey, loaded with last minute provisions. Astraia stood at the dock's edge, gazing out at the expanse of water with a mix of wonder and trepidation. Rom was content to enjoy the moment of relative quiet before being trapped on a ship with Chryseis for weeks.
As it turned out, however, the quiet was broken by an approaching pair of footsteps. Though she did not stride so boldly as usual, he could recognize that they belonged to Khari nevertheless. She came to a stop beside him, and for a moment joined him in staring at the water in front of them. She was fidgeting a little, a restless energy that could only mean she had something to say. Khari was only rarely ever still, but her movement was generally purposive, unlike this.
“I'm sorry." When she finally spoke, she blurted the words, grimacing when they came out a little too loudly for the surroundings. She tried again, this time at a better volume. “Sorry. I said I was gonna follow your lead and I... well, I didn't." She scrubbed her hands down her face, expelling a heavy breath. “Still trying to get the hang of this restraint thing. Probably shouldn't be around anyone who has to like us, but..." She shrugged, dropping her arms back to her sides with the motions. The reasons this case was an exception were very obvious. Unfortunately, they were also likely making the goal of restraint that much more difficult to achieve.
"And we said we'd try to be honest with each other, and... then another secret comes out. I wish I knew how to tell you these things before someone like her does it for me." She hadn't given all the details, but more than enough for Khari to get the picture. That Rom had tortured a number of people for her, that he did it enough to become very proficient at it. That she clearly enjoyed watching him do it.
"Fuck her." He crossed his arms, his eyes watching the horizon towards the west. "Fuck Chryseis, fuck restraint. She doesn't deserve it." He hated that Khari had opposed her, and that now she was apologizing for it. For standing up to her, for doing what she always did, and calling out bullshit where she saw it.
"There's going to come a time very soon where we don't need her anymore. When that time comes... I'm going to be rid of her, for good." There was no question as to what he meant, not with the way he said it. He meant to kill her himself, as soon as their job in Minrathous was through. It was what she'd trained him for, after all.
“Hang on a second here." Khari wore a pained expression, like she was warring with something internally. “I was with you right until that last part." Her mouth pursed, tension pulling her vallaslin taut. She licked her lips, clearly searching for words. “You don't have to kill her to be rid of her. And I don't... I don't think you should. She's not a threat to us. And as much as she might deserve it, as much as I really want to just..." She exhaled violently, a growl on the edges of the breath.
“This is one of those 'now' things, you know? The things that are gonna... define you. Better or worse. She hasn't hurt anyone more than you. You know what she's done better than anyone, and you've suffered it more than anyone. But... that's exactly why it's so important to really think about what you're gonna do here." Khari scoffed softly under her breath. “Not that I'm one to talk about thinking shit through."
He wasn't surprised at what she said, to be honest. Nor at how much he wanted her to say something else. It was a selfish desire, to want her to be on board with this. To let him do the wrong thing here, just this once, in this case where the victim would be most deserving of it. But of course she didn't want him to do that. Something she'd said in one of her worst moments came back. About good winning, every battle it fought. And this was one of those battles, there was no doubt about that. Several of them would be fought by the time they returned to Skyhold. If they returned at all. Nothing was guaranteed.
He exhaled heavily, the anger he'd let show having dissipated as quickly as it came. "Guess I'll have a lot of time to think about it. Probably for the best." He fell silent, getting started. It wasn't long, however, before he pointed out to the west. "Ships on the horizon."
It seemed to be a full fleet of them, actually—and not a minor one, either. As they came into view, he could count twenty in total, each with neutral white sails bearing no identifying marks of the Orlesian navy, though there was no mistaking where they came from. At the fore were four caravels, low-slung, swift and quiet, with triangular sails large in proportion to their bodies—scout ships, on most occasions. To the flanks bobbed five balingers, equipped with both oars and sails, their relatively spacious, flattened design making them ideal for the transport of large numbers.
Ten more were split between medium sized cogs—the standard warship of most navies—and larger, more impressive double-masted caraques. Those were almost exclusively Orlesian, though similar designs had made it to the other seafaring nations, like Antiva and Rivain as well as the Imperium. But the boat at the very center of the formation was the obvious flagship, and also obviously an attempt to answer the power and structure of a Qunari dreadnought. There were no fewer than four masts on it, all lined up along the dorsal line of the vessel, the second from the front being the largest. A prominent, beaklike prow helped the ship slice through the water, compensating for its obvious size with thoughtful engineering. The masts in the fore anchored pristine white square sails in place, the lateen rigs in the aft section were triangular, designed as auxiliaries for those in front, no doubt, to make the ship faster and more controllable. The design had to be relatively new, as he'd never seen anything like it.
Khari had clearly never seen boats this impressive, either; a small grin touched her mouth. “I almost regret being the worst sailor in the history of sailors." She turned slightly to aim the smile at him. “I bet Zee's gonna be over the moon. Think you can promote her to Admiral now?"
"I'll have a talk with the others about it." He couldn't help but grin back. "See if we can get her a new hat or something."
The few scouts that joined them along the way helped secure their prisoner. Decius Catus. Rom knew him, but didn't know he'd joined the Venatori. It had been a number of years since last they met, and when he'd lived in Minrathous they hadn't regularly spoken about anything. Chryseis's alliance with the man's father was the most common thing that brought them together. In any case, he was an enemy now, and one they needed to handle with care. If he had been dispatched to follow Chryseis by Marcus himself, there was a good chance he had information that could help them.
He wasn't subtle in his avoidance of Chryseis on the road back. There was more than enough space for them to remain out of speaking distance the whole way, which he did. Working out their differences while still cooling from the heat of a fight would be unwise. They had a job to take care of first, and it was more important than anything she'd done to him in their history.
By the time they passed through Skyhold's gates again it was morning, and the fortress was waking up. Their return had obviously been announced before they reached the walls, as guards were there to meet them, and several from the infirmary's staff to check for any wounded still in need of care. For now the wounds had been taken care of by Asala, leaving nothing that required more immediate attention.
"I don't suppose there's time for me to sleep?" Chryseis asked to no one in particular, as they started up the steps towards the keep.
"If you would care to, you certainly may, milady" Leon replied, tone polite but slightly dry. "But you'll understand if we prefer to conduct our pressing business as soon as possible. There are matters of considerable urgency at hand." The cut on his forehead had been repaired by a combination of Asala's magic and potions, but it was still faintly pink. He, like all of them, really needed a wash.
He gestured over a nearby pair of Templars, who approached swiftly. "Take Lord Catus to a holding cell, please, and have extra guards posted until I send for him." When custody of Decius was remanded, he let out a breath and returned his attention to them, smiling mildly. "There is time enough to refresh ourselves, at least. I'll have someone show Lady Viridius a room, if the rest of you would like to avail yourselves of the opportunity. We'll reconvene in the interrogation room in an hour."
As the words were basically permission for them all to leave, it wasn't all that surprising that Khari also took them as a cue to relax. She'd been watching him for most of the way back, though she'd made an effort not to be intrusive about it. It certainly hadn't escaped her how much distance he kept between himself and Chryseis, and more often than not, she'd situated herself in that space, much closer to his side of it. Now, though, she stretched her arms over her head and heaved a sigh. “I won't lie: I like this armor, but I'll be happy to be out of it." She dropped her hands, letting one of them land on his shoulder. “See you in an hour, then?"
"Yeah." His left hand still held his shield, so he reached across with his right to briefly grasp near her wrist. He was being more subdued than usual, but he trusted the contact would be enough to convey what he wanted. Khari didn't normally sit in on the discussions that took place in the war room among Inquisition leaders, but he knew no one would keep her out of this one, and Rom in particular probably wouldn't even do it unless she was there.
Her gear wasn't kept in the keep, so they split at the stairs, with Rom ducking his way towards the undercroft as soon as he was inside. One of the Skyhold staff had prepared a washcloth and a bucket of clean water for his return. It was cold, like anything around Skyhold was as they began to move out of the summer season. Washing it over his face helped rid him of the drowsiness that had begun to build behind his eyes, willing them shut if he allowed it. There was more work yet to be done.
He exited his quarters near an hour later without his armor, armed only with his regular blade at his hip. He didn't wear it normally, but today was not a normal day. He'd also chosen to put on boots instead of sandals he might've worn otherwise. Subtle things that he was kidding himself if he thought Chryseis wouldn't notice. The others surely would as well.
She met him on the walk from the keep, in the great hall, a bit of extremely unfortunate timing that allowed her to fall in step beside him. Chryseis was shorter than he was, but had no trouble keeping up with his swift pace of walking, which he certainly didn't try to slow for her. "I'm pleased you came for me," she said, as they made their way out of the front doors. "Not a moment too soon, either. Decius was starting to get impatient."
"We came because we need your help," he replied, not content to let her speak at him as she once might have.
"Which I have offered freely." She obviously took note of his tone, and replied in kind. "In fact, working against the Venatori has cost me no small amount. There had better be blood at the end of this trail. Marcus's. I trust you can get it."
"It is what I do best. You saw to that." He honestly hadn't meant it as a threat, but he wondered if she took it that way. Hunting powerful mages was what he was best at, what she'd trained him to do, what his purpose had been. Eventually even the threat of it was sometimes enough to get what Chryseis wanted.
The guards allowed them down into the dungeons. The stairs were just wide enough for them to walk side by side, but Rom allowed Chryseis to go ahead of him. They found the others outside of the interrogation room. It seemed they were the last to arrive. Alongside Leon and Khari were Estella, Rilien, and Cyrus, who had no doubt been made aware what had happened, and who their prisoner was.
"Cyrus," Chryseis greeted, placing a smile on her lips. "It's good to see you again. I trust my father is well? I heard the Inquisition chose to make use of his talents."
“Chryseis." Cyrus inclined his head slightly, his tone difficult to place. He did not wear the facade of ebullience quite so easily as he once had, the intervening years having done much to sober his demeanor. He did smile slightly though, and it seemed real enough. “Little changes Cassius, as I'm sure you know. In this, his extended stay with us has proven no different." The smile disappeared at that. “It seems that your end of things has been a sight more eventful than his, actually." The words invited elaboration without demanding it—though he know doubt knew the minimal details of what had occurred, there was much missing from such an accounting.
"Indeed." It seemed the pleasantries were over already. Chryseis never had cared for introductions where she didn't feel they were needed or wanted. Apparently that included walking into rooms with leaders of the Inquisition. "I was driven from my home in a brazen attack led by this rat in here." She gestured to the closed door of the interrogation room. "Decius Catus. Old acquaintance, never liked him much. Talented, but stupid. Only successful through following the orders of his master to the letter. His talents are not worthless, when directed properly." Rom knew that the two had also been matched together, or at least attempted to be, by their respective fathers, but it had happened in a period when Chryseis had no interest in anyone but herself, and to force the issue likely would've ended in disaster.
"Why did they attack you?" Rom asked. He'd put some space in between the two of them since entering the room, re-positioning to stand nearer to Khari.
Chryseis turned away from the door. "I slipped, as much as it pains me to admit. Pushed too hard. They caught wind of my investigation. One of my slaves went missing. Captured and tortured, I think, Marcus is supposed to be quite good at that. However it happened, I became a presence in Minrathous that couldn't be tolerated. There are elements in the city, in the Magisterium, that support them, and they are difficult to root out. The attack on my estate was not stopped. So long as they limit themselves, the Venatori do as they please. I was forced to flee, to carry my information to you. Your way into Minrathous."
"And that is?" A bit of impatience seeped into Rom's tone. He hadn't come to hear Chryseis's woes.
"By ship," she answered. "Two ships, actually, your pirate woman's vessel is too recognizable. You'll take it to Afsaana, little village on the Rialto in western Rivain, where you'll board a trade vessel by the name of Jezzabelle. Her crew has been paid for. She will take a small party back 'round the coast, and west to Minrathous. They'll guide you into a private dock, where a slave of my ally Bastian Catus will meet you, and take you into the city."
“Wait... Catus?" Khari glanced towards the interrogation room, which even now held a man of that same name, something which obviously hadn't escaped her. “You sure he wants to help the allies of an ally more than he'd want to help his own... what? Kid? Seems like things would go to shit real fast if you're wrong about that."
Chryseis narrowed her eyes for a moment, as though she hadn't at all expected the elf to speak, and didn't at all like what the elf had to say. "Yes, I'm sure. Their differences drove Decius to join the cult in the first place. And now we will be delivering him back home, provided he is useful to us. I expect Bastian will be thanking us. His manor in the city will be a safe place to rest and prepare. From there you can launch your attack on Marcus."
Leon nodded slowly, turning for a moment to Rilien. "Can you please ensure that some of the people we have in Rivain watch this trade vessel for a while? I'd at least like a bird if something looks off before we get there."
“Of course." Rilien nodded like it was obvious. Then again, considering his area of expertise, perhaps to him it was.
With a nod, Leon reverted his attention to the rest of the group. "As it is, this plan seems to hinge on securing Decius's cooperation. I suspect this will not be an easy thing to do. I've often found that stupid people can be more intractable than the smart ones, if only because they don't always see what is to their own benefit." He crossed his arms over his chest, shifting his weight a bit.
"It could be done without him, in the worst case scenario," Chryseis said, crossing her arms. "I've learned a fair amount about Marcus's magical defenses. Can't say I could bypass all of them with ease, but I believe I could get us in. But yes, having his cooperation would be ideal. That leaves the issue of securing it." She chose to look at the Lady Inquisitor finally, tilting her head up ever so slightly. "How is it your Inquisition normally handles these sorts of things?"
Estella cleared her throat softly. "We do not torture," she began, perhaps anticipating that such a question was likely to arise eventually. "In the cases where the subject of interrogation is particularly reticent, it is usually left to Leon or Rilien. Even if the rule is hard and fast, I do not delude myself into believing the subjects of interrogation are always... aware of that." No doubt much of the effectiveness the other two were able to demonstrate came from careful and assiduous use of the threat of prolonged pain, even if it was not actually an option.
A glint appeared in Rilien's hand, a rich golden potion in a small vial finding and reflecting back the room's light. “My methods are primarily alchemical. I have designed several tinctures that create varying levels of suggestibility, and another that makes it difficult to resist the urge to speak. These can be administered willingly or otherwise." He had not even a trace of Estella's merciful disposition, but it was clear enough that he was willing to follow her rules. “The downside is that he may be somewhat useless for some time after taking them. The side effects take a while to fade."
"I've also had some minor successes just... speaking to people. I do not know if that is likely to work here. You'd know better than I."
Chryseis hmmed both thoughtfully and with an undeniable hint of disappointment. Her eyes found Rom for a moment, and he resisted the urge to hide. Not that there was anywhere to hide here, but he had long dreaded this line of conversation coming about. Yet more from his past he'd never spoken of, about to come rearing back up. "I suppose the tinctures could help us glean information about the defenses I may have missed, but if his assistance is required in the city itself, we can't rely on drugging him. Hard to work complex magic in that state."
She glanced between Estella, Leon, and Rilien. "You don't torture, then? Seems you aren't making full use of your Lord Inquisitor's talents. Killing swiftly's not all he can do with a blade, after all." She settled her gaze on him. He imagined he looked like he was pleading her not to, and she immediately picked up on that. "You haven't told them, have you? Not surprising." She wandered a step towards the interrogation room, letting her fingers run across the surface of the door. "Romulus is an expert at inflicting pain. It's so much more visceral to work with a physical object than something magical. He can leave injures barely noticeable afterwards, yet cause excruciating pain that could make a member of the beresaad howl for mercy." She actually smiled a little at the thought.
"You're sure you won't make an exception? For your one ally in Minrathous? The father knows what the son's risked by betraying him like this. He might even do this himself after we deliver him."
“So fucking what?" Khari was just about snarling; it was clear that something about what Chryseis had just said had set her off, and the look on her face wasn't so different from the one she'd worn when that chevalier had insulted Asala. Worse.
Cyrus on her opposite side seemed to realize the same thing—he reached forward and gripped her by the shoulder, pulling backwards just enough that she had to make a decision about whether to resist or acquiesce to the obvious direction. For a very long, very still moment, it wasn't completely clear which one it would be, but in the end, her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she took the half-step backwards. “We're not sinking to anyone else's level. No exceptions for you fucks."
The man holding her sighed. “Yes, well, in any case, even from a purely pragmatic standpoint, we have a reputation to uphold. The long game, as it were. And while I know better than most people how effective pain is at ensuring compliance, it's quite risky. On the chance it fails, it tends to fail rather spectacularly."
"They're Venatori," was Chryseis's response, as though the word itself indeed carried a significant penalty as to their worth. "You'll skewer them in the back in roadside inns, but you won't inflict pain when it can gain you an advantage?" The idea seemed to confuse her greatly. "I'm so glad the Inquisition is preoccupied with childish notions of honor. Perhaps we'll offer Marcus a chance to properly arm himself before we attack? Warn the surrounding estates to stay off the streets an hour before we move?"
"This is pointless." Rom's voice cut through the small room louder than he intended it to, but he was not about to see words thrown back and forth between them until cooperation with Chryseis was no longer possible, let alone Decius. "It doesn't matter. Even if they wanted me to, I'm not torturing Decius."
"Then indeed, we are wasting time." She stepped away from the door, holding out her hands in invitation. "Do as you wish with him, and then let us prepare to leave. There are Venatori in my home that need to be killed."
Initially wordlessly, Rilien stepped past her, also apparently having decided that further discussion was unnecessary. “I will ply from him what may be plied. That may be all, but we will make do." So having said, he opened the door and disappeared within, letting it close softly behind him.
The preparations took only a day, and then the party setting out for the north made for Jader, and the Riptide. As far as the Irregulars went, it was a large excursion, but that was because there were multiple objectives to take care of. Estella, Vesryn, Cyrus, Harellan, and Astraia were boarding, but would be disembarking a day or so early, when they reached the northern edge of Arlathan Forest. He didn't envy their task any, even compared to his own. With him were Khari, Zahra, Leon, Asala, Chryseis, Decius, and the two most personally invested in the death of Marcus Alesius, the Dalish elf Ithilian, and the former Qunari Amalia. Welcome additions to any team.
For his part he'd been avoiding mostly everyone for the day of preparations, but Chryseis most of all. He wondered if some part of him had been broken, to serve so mindlessly a woman such as that. So consumed by her hatred and whatever target she chose to aim it at. That he used to find fulfillment in bringing her some measure of happiness, or her own near-equivalent, made him feel sick to his stomach. But the past was the past. Once this was done, it would hopefully be the past forever.
They were in Jader by midday after they left, departing Skyhold well before the sun came up. Before they'd left they received a letter from the Emperor of Orlais, Lucien Drakon, regarding a gift he planned to make, one that they could be in Jader to receive. Ships was the obvious answer. It remained apparent that having a friend such as Lucien Drakon was a key factor to the Inquisition's success.
For the moment Rom found himself on a hillside overlooking the sea, the docks not far below him, where Riptide was being prepared for the journey, loaded with last minute provisions. Astraia stood at the dock's edge, gazing out at the expanse of water with a mix of wonder and trepidation. Rom was content to enjoy the moment of relative quiet before being trapped on a ship with Chryseis for weeks.
As it turned out, however, the quiet was broken by an approaching pair of footsteps. Though she did not stride so boldly as usual, he could recognize that they belonged to Khari nevertheless. She came to a stop beside him, and for a moment joined him in staring at the water in front of them. She was fidgeting a little, a restless energy that could only mean she had something to say. Khari was only rarely ever still, but her movement was generally purposive, unlike this.
“I'm sorry." When she finally spoke, she blurted the words, grimacing when they came out a little too loudly for the surroundings. She tried again, this time at a better volume. “Sorry. I said I was gonna follow your lead and I... well, I didn't." She scrubbed her hands down her face, expelling a heavy breath. “Still trying to get the hang of this restraint thing. Probably shouldn't be around anyone who has to like us, but..." She shrugged, dropping her arms back to her sides with the motions. The reasons this case was an exception were very obvious. Unfortunately, they were also likely making the goal of restraint that much more difficult to achieve.
"And we said we'd try to be honest with each other, and... then another secret comes out. I wish I knew how to tell you these things before someone like her does it for me." She hadn't given all the details, but more than enough for Khari to get the picture. That Rom had tortured a number of people for her, that he did it enough to become very proficient at it. That she clearly enjoyed watching him do it.
"Fuck her." He crossed his arms, his eyes watching the horizon towards the west. "Fuck Chryseis, fuck restraint. She doesn't deserve it." He hated that Khari had opposed her, and that now she was apologizing for it. For standing up to her, for doing what she always did, and calling out bullshit where she saw it.
"There's going to come a time very soon where we don't need her anymore. When that time comes... I'm going to be rid of her, for good." There was no question as to what he meant, not with the way he said it. He meant to kill her himself, as soon as their job in Minrathous was through. It was what she'd trained him for, after all.
“Hang on a second here." Khari wore a pained expression, like she was warring with something internally. “I was with you right until that last part." Her mouth pursed, tension pulling her vallaslin taut. She licked her lips, clearly searching for words. “You don't have to kill her to be rid of her. And I don't... I don't think you should. She's not a threat to us. And as much as she might deserve it, as much as I really want to just..." She exhaled violently, a growl on the edges of the breath.
“This is one of those 'now' things, you know? The things that are gonna... define you. Better or worse. She hasn't hurt anyone more than you. You know what she's done better than anyone, and you've suffered it more than anyone. But... that's exactly why it's so important to really think about what you're gonna do here." Khari scoffed softly under her breath. “Not that I'm one to talk about thinking shit through."
He wasn't surprised at what she said, to be honest. Nor at how much he wanted her to say something else. It was a selfish desire, to want her to be on board with this. To let him do the wrong thing here, just this once, in this case where the victim would be most deserving of it. But of course she didn't want him to do that. Something she'd said in one of her worst moments came back. About good winning, every battle it fought. And this was one of those battles, there was no doubt about that. Several of them would be fought by the time they returned to Skyhold. If they returned at all. Nothing was guaranteed.
He exhaled heavily, the anger he'd let show having dissipated as quickly as it came. "Guess I'll have a lot of time to think about it. Probably for the best." He fell silent, getting started. It wasn't long, however, before he pointed out to the west. "Ships on the horizon."
It seemed to be a full fleet of them, actually—and not a minor one, either. As they came into view, he could count twenty in total, each with neutral white sails bearing no identifying marks of the Orlesian navy, though there was no mistaking where they came from. At the fore were four caravels, low-slung, swift and quiet, with triangular sails large in proportion to their bodies—scout ships, on most occasions. To the flanks bobbed five balingers, equipped with both oars and sails, their relatively spacious, flattened design making them ideal for the transport of large numbers.
Ten more were split between medium sized cogs—the standard warship of most navies—and larger, more impressive double-masted caraques. Those were almost exclusively Orlesian, though similar designs had made it to the other seafaring nations, like Antiva and Rivain as well as the Imperium. But the boat at the very center of the formation was the obvious flagship, and also obviously an attempt to answer the power and structure of a Qunari dreadnought. There were no fewer than four masts on it, all lined up along the dorsal line of the vessel, the second from the front being the largest. A prominent, beaklike prow helped the ship slice through the water, compensating for its obvious size with thoughtful engineering. The masts in the fore anchored pristine white square sails in place, the lateen rigs in the aft section were triangular, designed as auxiliaries for those in front, no doubt, to make the ship faster and more controllable. The design had to be relatively new, as he'd never seen anything like it.
Khari had clearly never seen boats this impressive, either; a small grin touched her mouth. “I almost regret being the worst sailor in the history of sailors." She turned slightly to aim the smile at him. “I bet Zee's gonna be over the moon. Think you can promote her to Admiral now?"
"I'll have a talk with the others about it." He couldn't help but grin back. "See if we can get her a new hat or something."