Josephine found Cullen glaring down at the War Table like a man with a particularly intractable problem. Since the Orlesian civil war had come to a negotiated peace and the Empress’ army had joined the Inquisition against Corypheus’ forces, he’d seemed more confident. She came up beside him to see if diplomatic efforts could aid military problems. “What’s so difficult.”
Cullen pointed to the middle of the War Table, and Josephine spotted a small lump of shining darkness hunched on a particularly vital part of the Orlais-Ferelden border, In the middle of a puddle of sunshine streaming through the War Room’s high windows. Force markers had been scattered like toys. “I’m trying to drive him out by siege,” Cullen said quietly. “So far, it isn’t working.”
The cat could not have weighed more than half a stone. “Just grab him,” Josie said, but made no move to do so.
“Tried,” Cullen said morosely and held up one hand. A bandage had been wrapped around his hand. Blood soaked the cloth and oozed down his fingers. “Waiting him out seems the better solution.”
Josie looked at the cat. He was very small. Malevolent golden eyes blinked slowly, and then the cat yawned displaying a mouth full of needle-sharp fangs. She stepped to one side to try and get a look at the cat’s neck without coming too close, then wrote out a brief note and sent it off with her aide. “Commander, you must be ready to call for reinforcements when the situation is dire.”
“I trained for years to face demons,” Cullen said morosely. “Calling for help seemed a little excessive.”
“If I’m right, this is a situation for diplomacy,” Josephine said. “There’s no shame in negotiating when you can save yourself blood by doing so.”
“Or I can call for an archer,” Cullen grumbled, then fell silent as the War Room door opened. Leliana strode in, followed by Josephine’s aide.
The spymaster stopped at the edge of the War Table and set a hand on her hip. “Mr. Hessarian!” she cooed, holding out her other hand palm-down and making scratching motions at the air. “Come here!”
The cat pushed himself upright at a speed normally reserved for glaciers or Orlesian heavy infantry. Then, one careful step at a time, he sauntered to the edge of the table with his tail held high like a victorious flag. Even with paws smaller than Fereldan copper coins, every step managed to knock over one or more markers on the table. “Come on, Mr Hessarian,” Leliana coaxed, “Baron Plucky misses you.”
When the cat reached the edge of the table, he jumped down and followed Leliana out of the War Room, weaving in and out around her ankles as if dancing with her.
“Baron Plucky?” Cullen asked in the ensuing silence. “Is that the cat-”
“That sleeps with her ravens? Yes,” Josephine said with a little laugh. “An opponent with formidable allies of his own.”
Cullen rolled his eyes at her, but did not contradict her as he grabbed tokens and began to set the War Table to rights. “The Inquisitor does not need to hear of this,” he grumbled.
“She won’t, as long as you get that hand looked at,” Josephine said with a laugh.
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