Reclaimer
-2-
Cato let out a grunt of pain as he hit the stone road outside Whiterun's Bannered Mare. Air rushed from his chest, he coughed, trying to breathe normally again. He heard heavy armored footsteps coming from behind him as he pushed himself to his knees. Again, the air escaped his lungs as a heavy boot kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling back. "You dirty little thief," the Nord said, closing the distance again. His friends snickered from behind him, calling out and giving advice on how best to discipline their prey. The guards looked on, not interested lest blades be drawn.
"I'm not a thief," the Imperial choked out, stumbling to his feet.
"No," the Nord drawled, towering over the Imperial. "You're a filthy cheat and a rotten coward." His breath reeked of ale as the Nord stumbled slightly over his words.
The Imperial stood, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his brow furrowed.
The Nord held his arms wide in invitation, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Well, well," the mercenary scoffed, "looks like this coward got a little fight in 'em."
The Nord smirked shortly before throwing a wide punch. Cato sidestepped it easily; landing a kick to the drunken Nord's knee and making him lose his balance. The Nord cursed as he stumbled. Eager for violence, the Nord's three allies joined in the fray, surrounding the Cato. They fell upon him, punching and kicking without remorse.
After a time, the Nord lifted the beaten and blooded Imperial by the collar. "Do you know what we do to cheats in Skyrim?"
Cato looked directly into the Nord's eyes, before spitting in his face.
The Nord growled as he dropped Cato in disgust. His friends closed in behind him. Cato wiped his nose, noticing blood, but kept his eye on his enemies. His training instincts were kicking in. He was surrounded by multiple opponents. He was armed, but if he drew his blade the guards would intervene and he would surely find himself arrested. His best chance, he decided, was to catch them off guard. "I wouldn't know," he said defiantly, "seeing as I'm not a cheat." He smirked. "But maybe you could tell me."
It took a couple seconds for the drunken Nord to understand the insult. The drunk lunged forward, but once again the more agile Imperial sidestepped him. Cato grabbed the Nord's head and plunged his knee into his belly. He pushed the Nord away, where he landed holding his stomach, just as the rest joined in. "Come on now," he said sarcastically, "this is hardly a fair fight." They sneered at him. "You'll need at least three more people for that." He paused. "Maybe four."
The two Nords on either side took his arms. Cato struggled against them, stomping on one's foot before elbowing him in the face. The Nord released him, reaching for his bloodied nose, before Cato struck a final blow over his back, knocking him to the ground.
The other Nord, still holding his arm, twisted it, forcing Cato to turn right into the third's awaiting fist. Cato, seeing stars, felt that both his arms were now being held back, his chest open and waiting for punishment.
The third Nord closed in, a cruel smile on his face.
Cato scowled, waiting for the right moment. Just as the Nord became close enough, Cato used the Nord behind him as a counter balance, kicking the approaching Nord fully in the chest with both legs, before head butting the one holding him. When he was released he fell forward, his breath heavy. Blood was dripping slowly on his cheek, a cut above his brow, probably from hitting the ground. He slowly stood, smearing away the blood from his face onto his sleeve as he looked at the three enemies he'd felled, who were now groaning in pain on the stone.
He was about to walk away when he heard footsteps coming behind him. Cato turned to see the first Nord behind him, axe in hand and pure malice in his eyes. Cato knew the foolhardy 'honor' of the Nords; it had become something of legend throughout Tamriel. This Nord was probably very unhappy that some poor Imperial nobody had just defeated him and his buddies. If only he knew who Cato really was, the true warrior that he had once been; the Imperial Legate, highly trained and battle blooded.
This time, Cato was worried that the Nord was already too close to dodge completely. He tensed himself, looking for a way to dodge and receive the least amount of injury. But just as the Nord lifted his axe he froze. His blue eyes grew wide in fear. Cato was confused. It looked like someone was holding the man back; someone much shorter than him by how far the man was bent back. The Nord dropped his axe as his body grew limp. His legs sagged as the light went from his eyes and whatever had been holding him released, letting him fall like a rag doll to the ground.
Cato looked at the Nord in confusion. What in Oblivion was that? He looked around, seeing only a guard, disinterested now that the fight was over, walking away. He gazed at the steady rise and fall of the Nord's chest. Alive, then.
"You're bleeding," said a voice nearby.
Cato spun around, finding no one. He felt like a mad man responding to someone he couldn't see. "I noticed," he said, once again dabbing at his bloodied face. "And," he continued conversationally, dusting off his hands, "who is it that is speaking to me?"
"I'm sorry," the voice said. It was undeniably female. It had a musical feel, and an interesting accent that Cato could only place as from Morrowind. "I forgot."
Just then a woman materialized a few feet behind where the Nord lay unconscious. She was dressed in fine dark leather armor, a bow on her back with a quiver of arrows, and a steel sword on her hip. Cato could not see her face from beneath her black hood, and a mask covered her face.
"No," he said, trying to act casual. "I always appreciate invisible strangers coming to lend a hand." He smirked. "It makes life interesting."
He sense rather than saw her smile softly. "Indeed it does."
Cato whipped his hand on his pants before offering it. "My name is Cato."
She took his hand lightly, but did not respond in turn. They paused, awkwardly staring at one another. "We should get out of here before they regain their senses," she commented.
Cato raised a brow. "Of course, if they even had them to begin with."
She chuckled lightly. She leaned over and patted the unconscious Nord's pockets, deft fingers filching a small coin purse from his belt. Cato couldn't help but smile. Insult and injury, he thought, interesting. A part of him, the part that had once been sworn to uphold the law, shied away at the idea of stealing. But that bastard deserved it, and maybe a last kick in the ribs for good measure. Her voice broke him away from his thoughts, "Why don't you come with me?" she offered.
"I'm fine," Cato denied, "but thank you for your help." With a final nod of thanks he turned back to the inn. But just as he started up the stairs, his head began to swim and lights flashed behind his eyes. He stopped, blinking.
"It appears you are not."
"I," he started, rubbing his neck, "I'm fine. Just hit my head a little too hard that's all."
He felt a hand on his shoulder. "I think not."
She led him away from the stairs and started down the path toward the gates before he even realized what was happening. "I guess I don't even have a choice in the matter?" he murmured behind the headache.
"No, you don't."
She led him outside the gates and down to the nearby river. Cato's headache was getting worse, even his own footsteps were making him cringe. Soon a rough camp was in sight, a simple tent and a cook pot over a small fire pit. A horse was tied to a nearby post, its eyes watching them as they made their way to the camp. The woman dumped Cato near the fire, somewhat gently, as she picked up the cooking pot. "I'm getting some water. I will return soon."
Cato nodded as rubbed his temples, cursing his own stupidity in head butting a Nord.
She returned within moments, placing the now full pot on the rack above the fire pit. With a few hushed words she lit the wood beneath, heating the water. After a few moments she poured a small amount of the warm water into a bowl and gave it to Cato with a rag.
He gave a murmur of thanks as he took it. He soaked the rag in the warm water, and felt relief as he patted the cut on his brow. She watched him from across the fire. When he was finished he moved to stand but she stopped him, taking the bowl and rag from him. She paused. "You missed a spot," she said, as she took the rag and knelt in front of him ready to help. "Just above the lip, here…"
Cato took the rag from her quickly. "I got it," he grunted as he finished cleaning the blood from his face.
He offered it back to her, but she shook her head. "Keep it." She sat beside him, setting the bowl of water to the side. "You fought well," she commented matter-of-factly.
Cato shrugged. "They were drunk."
She chuckled. "And they outnumbered you." She saw he was not impressed and crossed her arms over her knees. "You were faced with four large Nords, armed with nothing, and managed to nearly beat all of them." Cato simply looked at her. "You are strong, yet agile. I watched you fight. You fought with your wits as well as your brawn." She breathed. "I could use someone like you."
Cato's curiosity was peaked. "I am no mercenary," he countered.
She put up a finger. "Did I ever say I intend to pay you?"
Then he realized, something. "Wait, you were watching me the entire time and didn't bother to help me until then?"
She ignored his last question. "Let me explain," she interrupted. "I need help. There is someone…" She paused. "There is someone who needs to be taken down, a traitor."
You've picked the wrong person, he thought. "A traitor?"
"Yes," she said sadly, "a man who is responsible for the death of a close friend, a man who has forced me into exile for nearly twenty years." Her voice grew low, "A man who has betrayed a solemn oath." Cato glanced at her to continue. "I cannot give you the details of the oath, not just yet. But it was a sort of brotherhood, a pact, and he broke it, in the process killing an innocent man forcing the blame unto me."
"You do realize that this isn't very much information to make a decision on?" Cato commented. "You haven't even given me your name."
She sighed, and lowered her mask, confirming his assumptions, Dunmer. "I am Karliah, and former second in command for the Thieves Guild."
"Wait," he said, his eyes wide, "the Thieves Guild? They're in Skyrim?"
She scowled. "Barely so, thanks to this man."
He looked at her curiously. "I'm not in your guild."
She shook her head. "Technically, no longer am I, but that does not mean that I do not feel some sort of obligationto clear its name."
Cato chuckled. "It's a bunch of thieves and pickpockets, how are any of them supposed to have a clear name?"
"I wasn't speaking of the law," she explained. "The Guild has lost their credit." She frowned. "You're right. Once the Guild the home to masters of the craft, a time when thieves had honor, but now? They are nothing but a group of petty criminals." She looked directly into Cato's eyes. "The Guild is slowly dying."
"And why should I help? I'm no one of significance; to you or your Guild." He shook his head. "I am nothing but a homeless traveler."
She looked in his eyes. "Because the time has come to reveal myself, but I cannot accomplish this alone." She leaned forward. "I saw you fight, and I can teach you, help you."
Cato was about to object but she raised her hand again. "Look at you; you look like a man who's lost everything..." Cato stared at her. "What else can you lose by helping a person in need?"
Cato shook his head. Divines, what was his life coming to? Working with thieves? Hunted by his own people. He wanted none of it. But he didn't have a choice. As it was, he was alone in the world, alone in a strange country with no gold and no plan. "What do you need me to do?"
She smiled. "First, we are going to make a few real estate investments."
Attn: I'm sorry about the delay, real life happened. Plus I've been in an out of the hospital for about the past week... (how that sums up for months of lack of update I don't know.)
ALSO: Remember, this is a side fic for my main story "The Divine Champion". Read that if you want a better outlook on the main character for "Epitaph". Second news for TDC, I am looking for a beta for "The Divine Champion". It's come to that point that I need a yet another set of eyes.
Also, shameless plug for "Birthright" as well. Which I won't update until it gets at least ten reviews.
