Chapter 18 - The Rescue

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They made it as far as the Crossroads the following day where a messenger intercepted them with a request from Cullen to divert two days journey to the south to a bog called the Fallow Mire. A group of soldiers had been taken captive and they were the closest group that could get there for a rescue. The messenger handed Maeve a personal note as they turned to leave. She waited until they made camp later that night before reading it. 

Maeve,

It matters to me. If you are willing to speak of it when you return to Haven, I will be here to listen. And to help in any way I can. Please stay safe out there.

Cullen

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The Fallow Mire was a dank and dreary place. Maeve's clothing stuck to her and her hair was plastered to her head from the constant drizzle. It had taken them two days to fight their way across the muck and through a plethora of undead, corpses that had been possessed by spirits, to the fortress at the other end. 

Who the hell would build a damn fortress out here? she thought grumpily. It wasn't just the weather weighing down her mood. She was worried about her people. They had been taken by the Avaar, a tribal people that lived deep in the Frostback mountains, specifically to draw her out and if they died because of her...she squeezed her eyes shut.

They climbed the last flight of stairs into the keep to find a large Avaar warrior carrying a maul with a semicircle of tribesmen behind him. She stepped forward with her people forming a similar pattern behind her. 

"Herald of Andraste!" he called, "I am the Hand of Korth! Face me and we will see who is more favored by their god!"

She stepped forward into a battle-ready stance. The maul was big, which meant it was going to be slow. All she had to do was dodge enough and wear him down to win. 

He roared and lifted the maul for an overhanded swing at her head. She raised her barrier and smirked at the look of surprise on his face when the maul bounced off it. 

Haven't faced a mage before, have you, jackass? 

She thrust the staff blade forward at his neck, but only landed a glancing blow rather than a killing one as he turned his head to the side. She pulled back and ducked under his fist as he swung at her with a back hand. She spun and sliced the blade across the back of his leg. He roared in pain and started to spin around with the maul in a wide side sweep. 

Maeve dropped to her knees and bent back at the waist to flatten herself against the ground. She brought a stone fist to bear and threw it into his face as soon as the maul was clear and she could come back to her knees. 

He fell backward as she jumped to her feet, spinning her staff, slamming into the ground and calling a giant lightning bolt down on him. Her anger at this bullying asshole caused her to pull more than what the staff could help channel and she felt her nose start to bleed as her mana dropped too low. But it was worth it because he didn't get back up. 

She turned to the tribesmen, lightning still crackling in the air around her. "Anyone else?" 

They all dropped their weapons and shook their heads. 

"Then go!" 

One of the Avaar looked at her in confusion, "Are we not to be your prisoners?" 

"That's not how I work," she said. "Go home. And do not so much as think to cross the Inquisition again, or next time I will not be as merciful." Maker, she didn't even recognize the person saying those words. But she was so damn angry!

She watched them leave, wiped the blood from her face, and then went to Varric's side where he was already picking the lock of the door that their soldiers were behind. Half a dozen men and women were arrayed around the room and all looked up in surprise as Maeve strode in. Mumbled salutes of "Herald" were echoed around the room. 

"Inquisition," she nodded, "who's ready to go home?" 

Smiles broke out on all their faces and she returned them in kind. There had been injuries when they were captured. She healed what she could and the soldiers got on the road back to Haven a day ahead of them. She sent word to Cullen of their success and the expected arrival of the soldiers, and of their party. She watched the raven fly off through the rain and sighed. She had about a week to drum up the courage to tell him the truth. 

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