Dragon Age

realized Katriel was already dead, her lifeless eyes still staring into his.

He began to shake. Convulsively he let go of the longsword and scrambled away from her on the floor. Blood was already beginning to pool beneath her, and she folded forward like a limp doll. As her body covered the blade’s bright runes, the room sank into shadow.

Maric shook his head. He lifted his hands and saw that they were covered in blood, dark and black in the dim light, and he stared at them as if he could not quite comprehend what he had done.

The door shook as someone pounded on it. Several voices could be heard outside, and the muffled voice of a soldier asking if all was well could be heard.

“Everything is fine!” Loghain shouted. Not waiting for a response, he crossed the floor toward where Maric sat. He put a hand on Maric’s shoulder, and Maric looked up at him with wide, bleary eyes. “Stop,” he said. His tone was firm. “She betrayed you, Maric. She betrayed all of us. This is justice.”

“Justice,” Maric repeated hollowly.

Loghain nodded grimly. “Justice that a king must dispense, whether it pleases him to or not.” Maric looked away, but Loghain shook his shoulder roughly. “Maric! Think of the days to come. How much justice will you need to hand out, when you sit on that throne? The Orlesians have dug their fingers in deep, and you will need to pry them out!”

Maric looked dazed. He shook his head slowly. “You and Rowan both told me what she was, and I refused to listen. I should not be King. I am a fool.”

Loghain slapped Maric, hard.

The ringing sound of the blow hung in the air, and Maric stared at Loghain in shocked disbelief. Loghain crouched down, his face close to Maric’s and his eyes intensely ablaze. “There was a man,” he whispered in a bitter voice, “a commander among the Orlesians who sacked our farmhold. He told his men to take whatever they liked, and then laughed at our anger. He found it amusing.”

Maric looked about to speak, but Loghain held up a hand. “He said that we needed to be taught a lesson. They held us there, me and my father, and made us watch as he raped my mother.” He shuddered. “Her screams were . . . they are burned into my mind. My father raged like an animal, and they knocked him out. But I watched it all.”

Loghain’s voice became hoarse and he swallowed hard. “The commander killed her when he was done. Slit her throat and then told me that the next time we forgot our taxes it would be death for us all. When my father awoke he cried over her body, but it was worse when he saw me standing there. He left and was gone for three days. I didn’t know until he returned that he had followed after the Orlesians and had killed the commander in his sleep.”

“That was why we had to flee,” Loghain sighed. He closed his eyes for a long moment and Maric simply stared at him silently. “He was a wanted murderer. He thought he had failed her, failed me, but not for one moment did I ever think that what he did to that Orlesian bastard wasn’t justice.” He gestured to Katriel’s slumped corpse. “Tell me, Maric, that her treachery didn’t call out for blood.”

“You wanted this,” Maric realized, his voice quiet.

Loghain looked him in the eyes, unrepentant. “I wanted you to see the truth. You told me you wanted to win this war. This is how it must be. The alternative is to be done in by treachery just as your mother was.”

Maric looked at him reproachfully but said nothing. Absently he wiped his hands on the floor, and uneasily got to his feet. Loghain stood and watched him, but Maric only turned and stared helplessly at Katriel’s body. It remained slumped where it was, a great red stain on her back where the sword pierced her, and a pool of blackness around her.

He looked sickened. “I . . . I need to be alone.”

Maric stumbled to the door leading to his bedchamber and quietly went inside, shutting the door behind him. Loghain watched him go. Outside, lightning flashed again and lit up the darkness.

Rowan stood at her window, restlessly watching the lightning.

The patter of rain against the stone eased her nerves, but it couldn’t make her want to sleep. Her muscles ached from the days of marching and fighting, and while her wounds were healing nicely, they itched under their bandages and threatened to drive her mad. She assumed that Wilhelm would want to see to her injuries personally at some point, but she almost wished he wouldn’t. Some scars are deserved.

When the knock came at her door, she didn’t respond at first. The chill wind blew in through the open window and tugged at her nightgown, and the lightning flashed again. She felt the rumble of thunder that followed in her chest, and for just a moment it filled up the emptiness. It felt good. It felt right.

The door opened, hesitantly at first, and then he walked in. She didn’t need to ask who it was. Taking a deep breath, she turned and watched Loghain as he closed the door behind him. His grim expression said a lot.

“You told him,” she said.

He nodded. “I did.”

“And? What did he say? What did she say?”

Loghain seemed uncertain, pausing for a moment to choose his words carefully. She didn’t particularly care for that idea and arched a severe brow at him, prompting him to hold up a hand. “Katriel is dead,” was all he said.

“What!” Rowan’s eyes widened in shock. “She didn’t return? Did the usurper—?”

“Maric killed her.”

Rowan stopped short, stunned. She stared at Loghain and he stared back at her, his icy blue eyes unswerving. Certain things began to fall into place, and her heart went cold. “You told Maric everything, didn’t you?” When he didn’t respond, she marched up toward him angrily. “You told him that Severan has put out a price on her head now, that she must have—”

“It doesn’t change anything,” he stated firmly.