The next day they prepared to go meet the nobles gathered for the Landsmeet, which was coming up all too rapidly. Leaving Oghren, Zev, and Grenli to keep an eye on Anora—as much to keep her at Eamon's as to keep her safe—Una and Alistair, with Leliana and Wynne, went out into the streets of Denerim.
Sergeant Kylon nodded cordially as they went by, and Una wished he had standing to speak in the Landsmeet. At least the people knew the Grey Wardens were trying to do the right thing. She wondered if there was a way to give the people more of a say in their own governance. Surely the people of Denerim wouldn't have chosen Rendon Howe as their Arl, and shouldn't they have had the right to speak up about it before the arling was given away as a prize?
Something to think about at a further date. For now, she had to make headway with the nobles before she could think about changes to the way the country was governed.
"Copper for your thoughts, love," Alistair said softly.
"Just thinking about the future." She smiled at him, but his answering smile was distracted.
"I wish I felt better about it. Are we sure we can't leave Anora on the throne?"
"Look what she's done with it," Una said. "For all her big words about what a great queen she is, look what's happened since Cailan died. If she's not strong enough to stand up to her own father in defense of her throne, what will she do if Ferelden is attacked from outside? She may understand politics, but she can't—or won't—fight. I think she's made that very clear."
"Yes, I suppose you're right. Still ..."
She stopped, reaching for his hand. "You can fight, Alistair. You know what the right thing to do is, when you trust yourself, and you do it, at whatever cost to yourself. And you're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. So you don't understand politics because it wasn't fed to you in your cradle. That's what you have me for."
He nodded, swallowing hard. "I know you're right, it's just ... to have been told my whole life that this was entirely out of my grasp, out of the question, and now to be told that it's my duty ... it's hard to change my point of view that fast."
"I know." She squeezed his hand. "And I wish I could give you more time ... but I've given you all the time we had."
Alistair pulled her close, clinging to her with all the desperation of a man who is afraid of what the future will bring, and Una held him, letting her own certainty comfort him. "All right," he said at last, letting go. "Let's see these nobles of yours."
They took Leliana and Wynne with them and went straight to the Gnawed Noble, where Una assumed the greatest concentration of the Bannorn would be located, all of them drinking their worries away. Hopefully it was early enough in the morning that they wouldn't have gotten too far into the process.
She had no idea how well-known it was that she had survived the slaughter of her family, or that she had become a Grey Warden, but both by virtue of her parents' popularity and because her height made her memorable, she imagined she would be easily recognized. So she capitalized on that; she let Alistair and the others precede her into the room, and then she closed the door of the inn firmly behind her, with a click she was fairly certain could be heard throughout hte common room, and then she took her helmet off and shook her hair around her shoulders, and stood there waiting to be recognized.
It didn't take long. First the conversations closest to the door ceased, then the whispers rippled across the room, and then there was silence.
"You all knew my parents," Una said, and she didn't care that her voice cracked with grief. Let them all know what she had suffered—their fate would be the same if they didn't support her against the Blight. "My father loved Ferelden, and did his duty to her from his cradle. My mother was a gentle and caring woman who administrated the Teyrnir with the needs of her people uppermost in her mind. My brother was a fine warrior and poised to become an equally fine teyrn in the course of time; his wife an elegant and delicate woman who I never heard raise her voice in anger. My nephew Oren was five years old. Five years old," she said, louder and with emphasis. "Rendon Howe came into my family's home offering the hand of friendship, but with his other hand he held a dagger. He and his man took Highever Castle in the dead of night when all the men were gone—and for his treachery and his cowardice and his crimes against the women and children of our household he was given my family's teyrnir, as well as the arling of Denerim. The person responsible for applauding and rewarding his actions still holds the throne of Ferelden, having seized it from his daughter before King Cailan's body was seen to the Maker."
There was a murmur at that; mostly devout Andrastians, Fereldans didn't like a lack of attention to the respect due the dead. "Where is King Cailan's body?" someone asked.
"We took care of it. We returned to the battlefield at Ostagar, which was still overrun with darkspawn, and we eradicated the remaining darkspawn and cared for King Cailan."
"Thank you, Lady Cousland," murmured Bann Sighard, Oswyn's father. He stood up. "My son was imprisoned in Howe's dungeons; the things done to him, and for no reason we can understand, were horrific. Lady Cousland rescued him, and her healer took care of a number of his injuries. It is due to them that my boy can walk now. Whatever Highever needs, Dragon's Peak is with them to the last man."
"Thank you, Bann Sighard. How is Oswyn today?"
"Better, my lady, but it will be a long time before he is well again, I fear."
Wynne said, "I could come take another look at him today, in less fraught circumstances than yesterday. There may be more I can do."
"If you would, you would have our gratitude." Bann Sighard bowed to the mage.
"And the rest of you?" Una looked around the room at the assembled nobles; not even half the Bannorn, but a good start, certainly. "Make no mistake—my first goal is to eradicate the darkspawn and take out the Archdemon. I have no intention of dividing Ferelden. Rather, I seek to unify our forces against the true threat, the horde that threatens not only our lives but those of our children, and their children after them, if the darkspawn aren't defeated and their taint driven from our land. Teyrn Loghain, for his part, has chosen to concentrate on defeating the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden. I ask you, what's more important to you?"
"The Grey Wardens turned on King Cailan!" shouted someone from the back, whose face Una couldn't see.
"Really? If the Grey Wardens had some sinister plan at Ostagar, why is it they're all dead? Alistair and I, as the newest recruits, were kept back. That is the only reason we survived. All the others are dead, fallen at King Cailan's side. Loghain, on the other hand, is alive. As are all his troops. So, I ask you, who seems to have turned on the king? Those who died fighting with him, or those who turned their backs and left the field?"
There were murmurs of unhappiness all around the room at that, but it was hard to tell whether they were unhappy with Loghain, or with Una for accusing him of abandoning the king.
"Look," Una said more quietly, "all I want is to bring us all together against the darkspawn. Let Loghain and Anora keep the throne until that's done and we have time to talk seriously about what's best for Ferelden going forward, if that's what the Landsmeet would prefer. Just ... let's please stop fighting each other and start fighting the darkspawn. That's what we ask of you today." She turned to Alistair, who had stood next to her through the whole of her speech, at attention, his bearing proud and his resemblance to his father and brother unmistakable. "This is Alistair, the last of the Theirins. I have spoken to you today as Teyrna of Highever, and as Una Cousland, Grey Warden. I speak to you now as a fellow Fereldan and a subject of her rightful king by virtue of blood, and I tell you that Highever will support his claim to the throne."
"You're no Teyrna. Bryce Cousland was a traitor!" It was the same voice from the back, and at last Una recognized him as Arl Wulff, from West Hills.
She controlled the flash of rage and grief that swept through her with difficulty, and was both startled and grateful when Alistair spoke for her.
"There has been no proof offered of any treason by the Couslands. And the way in which they were killed—sneakily and in the dead of night—is hardly befitting a land that claims to be honorable. The fact that there was no trial, just a summary execution by someone who claimed to be their friend, makes it hard to believe there ever was any treason. Isn't it more likely that Rendon Howe claimed it for them to cover his own betrayal and murders?"
"He's got a point." Bann Alfstanna of the Waking Sea had made her way through the crowd and was standing near them now. "I knew Bryce and Eleanor Cousland well, and I grew up with Fergus Cousland, and I cannot believe that the people of Ferelden have accepted this flimsy story to cover the bare-faced slaughter of innocent women and children." She looked around the room. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I have been to Highever and seen the carnage there, and I tell you that there was nothing of honor in Rendon Howe's actions there. Now, I suggest we all disperse and give some thought to what the Wardens have said today."
"Thank you, Bann Alfstanna," Una said to her as the rest of the nobles went back to their seats, muttering to each other.
"You're very welcome. Your brother was a dear friend of mine; I was sorry to hear of his loss, and that of the rest of your family."
"Also ..." Una took out the ring that had been given her by the Templar in Howe's dungeons. "I believe this belongs to your brother."
"Irminric?" Alfstanna took the ring, looking at it in confusion. "He would never have taken this off, not willingly." There was suspicion in her eyes as she looked up at Una.
"He is in Howe's dungeons. He wouldn't leave—we tried to convince him, but ... he's very far gone with darkspawn taint, and the time he spent imprisoned in the dungeon hasn't helped. I would have come to find you sooner, but Ser Cauthrien threw me in Fort Drakon, and by the time I got out ..."
Alfstanna nodded. "You're lucky to have gotten out at all. I—I must go see my brother. Here." She put the ring into Una's hands. "Take this, as a sign of the friendship between Highever and Waking Sea. My troops are yours, against the Blight, against Loghain, wherever you need them."
Una thanked her, and she hurried off.
In the silence that followed Alfstanna's exit, Alistair sighed. "Well, that went better than I expected."
"They're reasonable people, and they have Ferelden's best interests at heart ... they just can't always agree on what those best interests are."
"Most of them are with you," Leliana said. "A few might need some convincing."
"And that's what we need to focus on. Should we head to the alienage now and see what Anora was getting at?"
"That's probably a good idea. What could Loghain possibly be up to?" Alistair asked.
"Let's go find out."