As Duncan passed the edge of the bridge, shortly before the royal entourage, he caught sight of the young Warden, Joras, and signaled the youth with a brief motion of his glove. As he pulled the Warden to the side, he kept his voice low as he spoke so the Ferelden soldiers, perched along the ramparts like armored crows, could not overhear. "We have an elf with us, a mage, she is in the final stages of the taint, but we will need her magic if we want to survive. Find her behind me on the bridge and get her to the healers, but stay with her. We can not afford to have a mage succumb to the taint and wreak havoc on the eve of battle. Keep your blade close at hand and if the time comes, do what must be done." Duncan clasped the young Warden firmly by the shoulder before parting. "Only if you have no other choice," he emphasized again before heading off toward the camp.