The Last Warden

Chapter Ten

"The Grey Wardens had nothing to do with the king's death." Alistair blinked at the blade leveled before him, holding steady in the old knight's hand. "It was Loghain."

"So you would now add slander to your crimes?"

He could feel the watching eyes, the marketplace falling silent. The dwarf Gorim had looked up from his stall; even the elven girl had straightened behind the gate, wiping the tears from her eyes with a curious stare.

Alistair lowered his voice, stepping close to the man. "Could we speak privately?"

Still he glowered, but after a moment he shook his head, sheathing the sword as he glanced round. "I doubt the value of your words. But perhaps your blade will speak more clearly." Again his hand strayed to the hilt, eyes narrowing as he leaned close. "Meet me behind those buildings there when the sun is at its peak. I will have satisfaction, ser."

Alistair watched him go, watched the eyes of the marketplace turn pointedly away.

"A duel then? Marvelous!"

He turned to the elf with a scowl. "And what would you know about it?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. I myself like to avoid a fair fight, when I can."

"Great."

Zevran's grin turned wicked. "But I do happen to know someone that does. And she is in Denerim, last I heard."

* * *

"A whorehouse? You brought me to a whorehouse?"

"Ahh, but we have another purpose here." The assassin chuckled, laying a hand on his arm. "Though if our good ser knight will be making an end to you this afternoon... Perhaps it is finally time to rid yourself of that pesky Chantry purity, yes?"

Leliana stifled a giggle behind her hand.

"What? No... I'm not..."

"Relax, my friend." He pushed the door aside with an exaggerated bow.

Alistair had never before been in a... in a... place like this before. Wynne had remained in the marketplace to browse amongst the stalls, waving them off as she made for The Wonders of Thedas. Morrigan and Sten had followed as far as the door, their twin scowls doing little to ease his mind. Only Leliana and Zevran remained as they slipped into the close and musky hall.

"You could have waited outside, you know."

Leliana blinked up at him with a playful grin. "Oh, I don't know. This could be fun."

"Right. Come to places like this often, do you?"

"Maybe." Twining an arm through his, she steered them toward the common room.

It was surprisingly crowded for the early hour... surprisingly lively too. One of the tables toppled with a crash, a battered patron sent sprawling. Two others were still on their feet, blades drawn as they circled a lone woman.

"Oh, lovely place. Great idea. Remind me why we're here again."

"Just watch, my friend."

The woman seemed to give ground as they advanced, but there was no fear, no worry there. In fact, she grinned. Dropping low, she spun, elbow taking one man in the stomach. Her palm connected with the side of his head as he staggered, another quick turn bringing her blade only a hairsbreadth from the other man's throat. It pressed there, dimpling the skin as she leaned close.

"Our wager?"

Fear bulged behind his eyes, but so too was there resignation. Reaching slowly for his belt, he dropped a purse into her palm. Only then did she relent, sheathing the blade with a satisfied smirk.

"You may go."

Sulking, he gathered his fallen comrades, making quick for the door.

"Ahh, Isabela..."

"Zev." There were teeth behind her grin. "It's been some time."

"That was... that was... wow." Alistair found himself running a hand through his hair.

"Witnessed that little encounter, did you?" Her eyes roamed low, appraising. He suddenly found himself wondering over the state of his smallclothes, suspecting she could somehow see them, even beneath his mail.

"Alistair of the Grey Wardens, allow me to present Isabela, captain of the Siren's Call, queen of the Eastern Seas and the sharpest blade in Llomerryn."

"A Grey Warden?" She arched a delicate brow.

"A pirate?"

The woman turned to Leliana.

"I... I have heard stories."

Isabela pursed her lips. "And they intrigue you, do they?"

"Very much so, yes."

"Mmm." Her smile turned languid, eyes narrowing. "Perhaps we can discuss them later... sweet thing."

That gaze returned to Alistair. "Now, Zev. Is there a reason you have brought me such... delightful company?" No. Forget the mail. Those eyes could peel off his very skin.

"Our dear Warden has been challenged to a duel. One that he is certain to lose, I am afraid."

"Hey!"

Isabela, though, had stepped close, running a hand along his arm and up his shoulder as she circled round. He felt the lump rising in his throat.

"He is strong, fights with brute force. Effective, in its way. But I am afraid that he lacks the required... finesse."

"As I have been telling him. And I have also been able to do little about the hair, sadly."

"Hey!"

Isabela stepped back with an appraising nod. "Still, it would be a waste to see the end of such a pretty thing. I will do what I can. But there is, of course, a price."

"Right. Of course there is."

She tilted her head as she blinked up at him, feigning some approximation of sweetness. "I merely wish to get to know something of my student. Let us have a game, a test of skill." Bending to the table, she retrieved a deck of cards, running them deftly between her fingers.

"Yeah. All right."

"Alistair..." Zevran nodded apologetically to the woman. "...if I may have a word?" He steered him forcefully to a nearby corner.

"What?"

"You will not win against Isabela. No one does."

"So what should I—?"

"—There are other options, my friend. She is a woman of varied... appetites."

Alistair goggled. "What? You... you can't really be suggesting that I...?" Glancing over the elf's shoulder, he saw Leliana deep in conversation with the woman, the pirate's hand lingering against her arm. He moved quick, closing the gap to wrap an arm round Leliana's waist.

"Alistair!"

Isabela chuckled.

"I... uh... I thank you for the offer. But I... I think I'll take my chances."

The woman shrugged, lips pursing in bemused disappointment. "Luck be with you, then."

Still he held to Leliana, dragging her toward the door. "Zevran. Let's go."

"If it is all the same to you, my friend, I think that I will stay." Folding his arms, he leaned against the wall beside Isabela.

"Can I trust you to come back?"

"Do not worry." He grinned. "I would not miss the show."