because the dwarf told you there’s a head in front of the palace doesn’t mean it has to be your father’s.”
She was surprised by his answer and fought to hold back sudden tears. “You
“There might not be any head.”
She shrugged. “I hope you’re right.” She didn’t believe it, however.
The three of them sat there in front of the fire, watching it slowly begin to dwindle in strength. Maric huddled in his shirt, shivering. They shared a sense of exhaustion that left them hollow and empty.
“I guess we should decide what to do,” Maric finally announced with a deep sigh. “We’re bad at this, aren’t we?”
“Perhaps the army is better off without us?” Loghain suggested, amused.
“Better off without Maric, maybe,” Rowan commented.
“Ow!” Maric chuckled. “I felt that! I’ll remind you both that it was your idea to save me. I would have been fine killing those . . . six soldiers? Were there six?”
“Try eight,” Rowan said dryly.
“Try eleven,” Loghain corrected. “The three Katriel killed.”
Rowan rolled her eyes. “Ah, yes. Let’s not forget her.”
“I thought I was just seeing double.” Maric smiled. Then he looked at Rowan queerly. “You slapped me.”
“Would you like me to do it again?”
“Why did you slap me?”
Loghain cleared his throat to get their attention. “We were deciding what to do,” he reminded them. “I think the only thing we can do is try to find a route through the Brecilian Forest. If we can reach it, that is.”
Maric nodded glumly. “Do we have any other choice?”
“Actually you do,” came Katriel’s quiet voice as she returned to the camp. She carried the rabbits, freshly skinned, as well as a small bundle of wood and sticks under one arm. Maric stood to help relieve her burden, and she immediately crouched down to restore the fire.
Loghain waited patiently, watching her work, until finally he couldn’t wait any longer. “We have another choice? You heard us speaking, I take it?”
“Half the countryside could hear the three of you, ser. I was not trying to, but I heard most of it from the stream.” She dug around with the new wood, and the flames roared back to life, the moist bark hissing and popping violently as it began to blacken. “And yes, you have another option.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Rowan sighed.
Katriel nodded, frowning. “I know, my lady. I am merely . . . hesitant to mention it.” Satisfied with the fire, she took the carcasses from Maric and began skewering them on a pair of branches. “Have you heard of the Deep Roads?”
Loghain nodded slowly. “The underground roads that once belonged to the dwarven kingdoms. But they no longer exist.”
“Oh, they exist. The dwarves closed off the Deep Roads when they fell to the darkspawn long ago. The entrance into the Deep Roads from Orzammar is sealed, normally.” She looked at Loghain pointedly. “You can, however, enter them from the surface . . . if you know where to look.”
Maric blinked. “And you . . . know where to look?”
Katriel nodded. “I do, Your Highness. Or, rather, I believe I do.”
“And one of these . . . Deep Roads goes to Gwaren?”
“Believe it or not, Your Highness, Gwaren was built on top of a dwarven outpost. The humans came later, to use the port that the dwarves had built and abandoned. They even took the outpost’s name, though they doubtless no longer remember it.”
“And just how do you remember it?” Rowan asked. “How do you know this?”
Katriel’s smile was enigmatic. “I know many things, my lady. History is full of lessons to be learned if one cares to listen.”
Loghain glanced at Rowan, and she saw he shared her suspicions. Maric, however, was more concerned about the idea Katriel proposed. “But aren’t these Deep Roads full of darkspawn?” he asked. “I mean, wasn’t that the idea behind closing them off?”
The elf nodded slowly. “No one knows how many darkspawn are below now. It has been centuries since they invaded the surface lands and were defeated. The Deep Roads could be teeming with them . . . or empty.”
“But . . . we could use the Deep Roads? To travel? Theoretically?”
“Theoretically,” she agreed. “If they are clear, Your Highness, we could travel very swiftly indeed.”
“Or be slain and eaten as soon as we enter,” Rowan snapped.
“Or the path could be blocked.” Katriel nodded. “Hence my hesitation.”
The thoughts were whirling in Maric’s head; Rowan could see them. Her heart sank as she saw his hopes rise. “If we go through the Brecilian Forest, it’s guaranteed to take a long time,” he said to Loghain, his voice excited.
Loghain seemed dubious. “Several weeks, perhaps, though I can find the way.”
