Chapter 47: A Caw for Help

"We've lost the forward camp, Inquisitor." Scout Harding rarely ever brought her bad news; concerning news, yes, but never news such as dire as this.

"Any survivors?" There was a long silence and a slow shake of the dwarf's head. "Fuck!" She punched a fist down on the table making her mark sputter green sparks. "Alright, let's review who we have to utilize in defense because you know those bastards will be headed here next." Huddled under the canvas shelter of the newly dubbed "Command Tent," after the first had been taken out by a large boulder hurled by one of Sampson's Behemoths, Evelyn and her inner circle tried to organize a defense through their chattering teeth.

After arriving in the Emerald Graves, they weren't there long before Sampson's trail led them to the Emprise du Lion. After being there for several weeks it was clear there was a large red lyrium operation in an old granite quarry that had been sold to none other than Sampson. When they stumbled upon the heart of his base camp, they met fierce resistance being pushed back further and further. They had already lost their furthest camp, and now they had lost a second. There was nowhere else to fall back to without being completely pushed from the area and losing the sizable town of Sahrnia, which had pleaded for the Inquisition's protection. The Orlesian country settlement had quaint streets beside a large bend of the Elfsblood River. Its colorful pastel buildings and town square would have been charming had it not been recently attacked with only Harding and her contingent of scouts to defend it against the Red Templars. 

With a heavy sigh, Korbin, who had been sent as reinforcement when Harding's scouts first encountered the Red Templars, stepped forward. His partially bearded face was tattooed as a skeleton in typical Legion of the Dead fashion. He had a permanent snarl etched into his rigid features, yet he spoke rationally and evenly. Their enlistment, a commitment for life, marked them as guardians destined to confront the darkspawn threat, ready to sacrifice themselves in defense of their people. This Legionnaire, however, was reassigned to assist the Inquisition thanks to the alliance Josephine struck with Orzammar. Since then, he had proven himself invaluable to the Commander with his legendary martial prowess and sound tactical mind. Most known for holding off hordes of darkspawn in the Deep Roads for two days alone, he had recently saved the Cumberland Circle of Magi and its resident mages from an angry mob that was threatening to burn it to the ground. A man of action, he preferred to be deployed and volunteered to lead a contingent of soldiers to help hold the Inquisition's position in Sahrnia as Evelyn and her team were en route.

"As it stands Inquisitor," Korbin's heavy rasp made it sound as if he smoked a pipe since his emergence from his mother's womb, "we do not have the manpower to hold this position, and this "position" was nug-dung to begin with. By the teats of my ancestors, we're completely exposed here!" She frowned at the hopeless summary of their predicament. "We've no cover, no fortifications, and are vastly outnumbered by the blasted red bastards from what we've seen."

"And yet, we need to hold this position or risk losing this foothold. If we retreat now, it will take immense Inquisition lives and resources to break back in. Not to mention, we'll have to evacuate the town. The Elfsblood River is frozen - as is every bloody thing for miles around - we are low on supplies, and should we try to flee the Red Templars will catch up to us with ease." The Inquisitor looked around at the many faces gravely, "I will not forfeit the town so easily. So I ask again: What. Are. Our. Options?" Her fiery aura was providing visible relief to the frozen fighters.

To their credit, they all looked at the map and considered the best possible course of action. In addition to their Legionnaire was chevalier Ser Michel de Chevin, former champion of Empress Celene. After leaving the court due to a scandal, he traveled Orlais doing chivalrous deeds. In pursuit of a demon named Ishmael, the skilled swordsman found himself in the heart of a more sinister operation. Michel, his tone ever calm and eloquent after years at court, spoke first, "Perhaps we can keep them distracted and away from town with a small force?"

"You mean like us?" Owayne scoffed and gestured around the table, while the blonde swordsman inclined his head toward him.

Bull hummed in agreement, "Hit them hard with the biggest hitters, I like that."

Varric shrugged, "And with the Inquisitor there as well, it sweetens the pot for Sampson. Though I doubt he'd make the mistake of giving you red lyrium again." There were nods, but they were all still deep in thought.

Evelyn crossed her arms, "And yet, will it be enough? For all we know, Sampson knows our numbers and will know it is a trick. What if he attacks us and the town at once?" Her stomach churned at the thought, and she was desperately wishing the Commander was present. He always had a plan and was two steps ahead of the enemy. In the pit of her stomach was a cold fear that came from his absence.

"Sampson scouts aren't as stealthy as ours," Harding offered, "they've been blundering through the mountainside like a herd of Brontos, and that red glow coming off them is hard to miss in the dark. I doubt the enemy knows the size of our force here." Lace seemed confident in her assessment and Evelyn had no reason to doubt her yet. She too had proven to be a great asset as lead scout of the Inquisition's expeditionary force.

Trying to channel her inner Commander, she remembered the battle in the dark future that he had coordinated. Evelyn pointed decidedly to a spot on the weathered map. It had been pulled in and out of her armor's pocket so many times, that the edges were torn from the friction and wet from the snowy weather. "What about the entrance to the trail through the mountain? It's the only easy route here. Could we keep them bottled up there?" At Redcliffe, he had controlled the flow of the enemy force coming at them by using the doorway, and she wondered if they could do the same here. "What about it? Cassandra? Korbin? Blackwall?" She asked of her three warriors, who passed each other promising looks. "We form a shield wall with you three and Michel, Bull and Owayne provide backup, Varric you get up high and give callouts, Solas provides defensive support, and Sorin and I set magical traps."

A huge rumble echoed down from the mountain, causing everyone to look behind them for a moment. "I should go see what the scouts think that was," Harding quickly raced toward the front of the town.

When the sound died, the Seeker weighed in, "It could work, for a time at least, until they figure out how to thwart us." Blackwall and Korbin nodded with agreement but Evelyn could tell they too were trying to calculate in their minds how long they could hold out for.

Sorin shook his head grimly, "E, you said it yourself, we're low on supplies and fighters. We're going to need help and quickly."

"You're right." They couldn't do this with the resources they had. The situation was truly dire and now the enemy was closing in. If they could hold out just a little longer, it'd give the Commander time to reinforce and resupply them. Evelyn knew he'd agree with her on the necessity of holding the position within reason, and she knew between the ten veterans gathered around the tent that they'd fight for as long as they could grip a weapon.

"Inquisitor!" Harding returned out of breath, "Red Templars… spotted coming down the mountain pass. There's a Behemoth with them."

Her companions all armed themselves and readied for battle, but there was one last thing Evelyn needed to do. "Quickly, someone fetch me something to write with, I need to send a raven to Skyhold immediately. Then we head to the caves."

***

Cullen was meeting with his senior officers in his tower that evening, when a messenger barged in unannounced, "Ser, an urgent message from the Inquisitor!" The man ran it over to him and caught his breath as he read it. At a glance, Evelyn's script appeared rushed and somewhat sloppy by her standards, indicating it had been done in a hurry. This made his stomach knot up. The paper looked as if it was once wet before drying, puckering in places, and upon opening it and seeing multiple smudges, he realized the author had done it:

Commander,

This matter requires your immediate attention. Extreme resistance from Samson's Red Templars in Emprise du Lion. Request immediate aid. Facing bulk of his army, not just a fragment. Need at least one company of soldiers, preferably two, and the Chargers if available. Coordinate with Spymaster for intel on Samson's position. Townsfolk say he's entrenched in granite mine bought from Mistress Poulin. Whole area swarming with Red Templars, unable to gather intel. Currently camped in Sahrnia. Holding position but need reinforcements and supplies urgently or will be overrun. Area frozen beneath foot of ice, making evacuation difficult. Arrange aid from Emperor for people of Emprise du Lion: food, blankets, healers.

Make haste.

Inquisitor Trevelyan

Looking to the messenger panting heavily before him, he ordered, "Send word to the Ambassador and Sister Nightingale to convene in the War Room immediately." At the Commander's urgent tone, he flew out the door, leaving it slightly ajar. "You there, soldier!" He called to the guard just outside, "Get down to The Herald's Rest and find Krem. Have him ready The Chargers for immediate deployment. Tell him I'll meet with him as soon as I can, and pack for the cold. Go!" Looking to the officers before him all on alert after hearing him bark out orders, Cullen brought them up to speed. "The Inquisitor requires immediate assistance in the Emprise du Lion for they are facing the main force of the Elder One's Red Templars. Dane and Foster, ready your soldiers, we leave at first light." The Captains saluted and strode out the door with purpose. "Rylen, have a message sent to Lieutenant Reid in the Emerald Graves and have his men get to the Inquisition camp in a town called Sahrnia in the Emprise du Lion with all haste."

"All of 'em? The whole unit?" His second-in-command questioned as his brow creased with worry.

"Yes, I'll send men to replace his, but the Inquisitor's need is dire and his men are the closest to her location. The scouts can hold the camp, and even then, Fairbanks has the situation in hand for the time being."

"Aye, Commander."

"And Rylen," the Marcher stopped and turned as his hand reached the door latch, "I'll be going with the men to assess the situation and coordinate. I leave you in command here and will let you know what more we'll need. I'll meet with you back here in an hour for a run-down of our military operations." His old friend nodded firmly before hurrying out to carry out his orders.

Dismissing the rest of them, within minutes the Commander had all of Skyhold in a frenzy over the news from Orlais. The Inquisitor was in trouble and there was not a soul who was left sitting idle to help the troops get ready for deployment. Some time ago he had made an emergency plan in case the army was needed to respond immediately to a threat, and though the hour was late, they'd be ready by first light to leave. Making his way briskly to the War Room, his counterparts awaited him anxiously.

"We assume you've had word from the Inquisitor," Leliana studied him as he strode purposely toward the table. In the light of the moons and shadows of the room, she seemed in her element.

"Yes, there is a situation that requires our immediate action." He passed the letter to Josephine - who took the soiled report with two fingers as if it were a dirtied handkerchief - as he began lighting more candles and sliding the pieces representing their troops around on the map. "The Inquisitor believes the heart of Samson's operation is in the Emprise du Lion, and she needs more soldiers, supplies, and reconnaissance." He relayed the contents of the letter to Leliana as Josephine pulled a fresh piece of parchment from her board and began drafting a letter to Emperor Gaspard.

"I'll pull agents from other assignments to help scout the area and speak with locals to find out what has been happening. If he's been there this whole time he must have a large base and a regular supply line." Taking the letter from Josephine, she skimmed it, "And I'll find her notable targets within the quarry."

He nodded, standing back to view the whole map, "I'll be leaving with the men in the morning, so Knight-Captain Rylen will take over for me here. There's an old abandoned elven fortress near the Inquisitor's location which may be of use to us if Samson hasn't taken up residence there. If he has, then we'll be planning an assault to capture it. Either way, with as many men as she's requested, and facing an army of Red Templars, I better go and assist her."

"And what of Samson himself?" The redhead's unflinching gaze held meaning as she watched him like a hawk. "An added incentive to go?" His scowl drew down, unsure of her facial expression that was hidden by the shadow of her cowl. She crossed her arms, "I'm not judging, Cullen, simply asking."

"I will admit, if he is there I'd like nothing better than to tear down his operation with my bare hands after all the Templars he has misled and corrupted. I may no longer be a member of the Order, but I still respect those who serve and sacrifice. If the twisting of the Chantry isn't bad enough, Corypheus and Samson have expertly convinced these men and women to into taking red lyrium." He sighed, tightening his grip on the pommel of his sword. "I wish I could let it go, but I can't. I knew Raleigh and bunked with him for years until he was expelled. If we had stayed friends, I could very well be one of those blighted mindless creatures with crystals growing from me." He stared off for a time as horrid scenarios played out before him.

Josephine had paused her writing, exchanging concerned glances with Leliana. The weight of his words and visions of the Commander as a mutated red monstrosity must've also filled their minds. "Thank the Maker that you were separated before such taint could touch you," the Ambassador's eyes shifted with genuine care.

But he was tainted. The lyrium he took may not have been red, but for the rest of his days, he'd live with the repercussions of his usage. The very thought of how much he dumped into his veins while in Kirkwall - with the approval of Meredith - made his hands shake. All that raw power at his fingertips and the things it did to his mind and personality... how could he be the person he once was after the damage it caused? He thought he was serving the Order and a higher purpose, but what he was doing then was no better than what Samson was doing; it was he after all who told Cullen that taking more than the issued draughts would help him forget. A spike of rage caused him to painfully squeeze the wooden marker he was moving in his hand painfully.

Josephine placed the report back on the table, and his eyes landed immediately on the signature of the author. Like the clouds parting for the sun, his anger was replaced swiftly by burning love and concern for the Inquisitor. In his mind's eye, he envisioned her always bathed in light that grew with intensity until her fire chased away the shadows. Despite the scars that marked her face and body, in her warm brown eyes was a tenderness. Her supple lips mouthed 'I forgive you, now forgive yourself,' speaking of his past sins. Though he was unsure he ever could truly absolve his own guilt, her could hold onto her words with hope of it one day. She was still his guiding light out of the dark; the torch that banished all the shadows in his mind.

He needed to remember that he was also one of the luckiest ex-Templars having survived this long. By all rights, he should be going mad rotting in a bed, or even dead having not taken lyrium for nearly a year. The Maker showed him a path to redemption, and while risky, he knew it was the right choice. It also helped to have met people who cared enough to check on his health. Having had no intention of telling anyone except for Cassandra, he was glad he did. And lest he forget Evelyn's part in all this; fate or coincidence brought the two of them together. Between his nightmares, trauma, and withdrawal symptoms, he's not sure he would've endured had it not been for her steadfast support. Thinking back to their time at Haven when he summoned the courage to speak with her about her similar issues following her encounter with Samson, it truly had been one of the best decisions of his life.

Relenting his iron grip from the marker, he placed his down beside Evelyn's on the table. His fingers grazed the large eye of the Inquisition's symbol and he shut his eyes whispering a prayer under his breath. Leliana had been studying him, and meeting her steely gaze, she offered a resolute nod, "Give our best to Evie when you see her, Cul. We'll be eagerly awaiting word from you. May the Maker guide you in this endeavor." The duality of Leliana at times gave him whiplash; one moment she was plotting intrigue, dissecting every nuance with cold, calculating eyes. The next, she was transformed, radiating kindness and warmth, her words full of genuine affection. He found himself puzzled by the mystery of her nature. Which was the mask? Which was the true self? Or perhaps, in some perplexing paradox, they were both real, two sides of a single, unfathomable soul.

Following the Spymaster, the Ambassador stopped suddenly causing him to peer back curiously at her. Her heeled shoes made a squeal against the stone, and he straightened turning towards her. The Antivan looked to be readying herself to ask something of him, but for some odd reason, he knew and beat her to it. "I'll give Blackwall your regards, and keep an eye out for him."

Josephine's eyes went wide, but quickly gave way to relief, nodding. He found it funny that for all her experience in diplomacy, she had trouble voicing her sentiments for the Warden. "He's still alive then?"

"Well, he's not dead." His dismissal of it so bluntly had her taken back, and he quickly amended his statement, "I mean, wounded, maybe. That is, Evelyn would've noted such news in her letter if something happened to him or any of her companions. You haven't seen them in battle as I have, for if you had you'd feel better about their chances."

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Cullen." He gave her a reassuring smile that seemed to bolster her with hope. Stepping closer, she slipped something small into his hand. By the feel and shape, it was a folded letter. Her round gray eyes met his for a moment in a wordless agreement and before leaving she simply added, "May Andraste watch over you all."

Returning to his tower, he felt the adrenaline rush of getting the opportunity to go back out in the field. While he understood the importance of his careful attention to overseeing all of the military operations they had spread out on both sides of the Waking Sea, he always preferred to be a boots-on-the-ground sort of presence for his men. His meticulous organization and attention to detail was why Cassandra had first recruited him, after seeing his coordination of relief efforts in Kirkwall, but he had years of battle experience – not to mention a young and fit body – that were going to waste being cooped up and chained to a desk in Skyhold. As he met with Rylen and packed, his heart-pounding anxiousness churned his stomach, remembering who'd be waiting to greet him upon his arrival. Maker, he missed Eve. Each morning, he had been surprised to wake up beside her, and now it was a shock that she wasn't there. In the middle of the night, he found himself drawing the sheets and blankets to him, as if trying to pull her ghost into his embrace. Skyhold seemed devoid of life without her; she was his world and future.

Sweet Andraste, would she still be alive by the time he and the men made it…

Josephine's concerns did nothing to silence his own, nor did his own words in response. He tried not to dwell on the dark thoughts that stabbed into his gut every so often as well, trying to scry into the night sky to see how she was faring. Resting his elbows on the window sill, he closed his eyes, reciting another prayer of protection to the stars. He reassured himself that Evelyn was perfectly capable of defending herself and had the aid of her formidable companions, not to mention Korbin. That dwarf could be two days dead and still swinging his maul with lethality. They could hold on until they arrived... they had to.

It'd be days before they reached Sahrnia, and something in his churning stomach was telling him the men that he diverted from the Emerald Graves would buy them time, but still wouldn't be enough. Such a massive concentration of Red Templars could only mean that they had finally tracked down Samson With growing fortifications in the Western Approach and Crestwood, along with Skyhold in the Frostbacks, the Inquisition's influence and legions were growing, but so too were their operations. The Commander was trying his best to provide the manpower they needed to not only hold key areas from Corypheus' forces trying to retake them but also stabilize the region.

At the incessant sound of his office doors opening and closing below, he knew it was going to be a long night and headed back down to ensure everything would be ready. Soldiers, supplies, and healers, her words kept running through his head. Make haste, that one line haunting his every move. Time was of the essence and ready or not, they were departing upon the rising sun. Make haste.