Chapter 4

Idari Mortha had ridden at a casual pace across Cyrodiil for almost eight days when she finally arrived at the city of Chorrol. She had been putting this trip off because she knew that her profession as an assassin was in danger of being revealed every moment she spent in the presence of this high-ranking Blade. The Emperor had told her to deliver the Amulet of Kings to Jauffre, a Blade who had apparently retired to become a monk in the priory near Chorrol. Idari couldn't see how a retired Blade would be of any use in 'closing shut the jaws of Oblivion', as the Emperor had told her. Of course, he'd also mentioned another heir to her and said that this Jauffre would know where to find the unknown heir to the empty Septim throne.

The Dunmer reached the city gates late at night, but decided she didn't want to risk being seen staying the night there. She rode east towards Weynon Priory, ignoring her own tiredness. Part of her felt she might be recognised now that she was a member of the Black Hand, even though there had been no increase in evidence of her identity since she had been forced to accept the position.

The Emperor had pardoned her of her crimes before his death, which meant she was no longer guilty of several of her crimes, but she had committed at least five murders since then as well as multiple thefts. She imagined the Emperor's illegitimate son would not have been so quick to forgive her if he knew the reality of it. Idari could only wonder how this law abiding Blade would take to dealing with a murderer like her.

Weynon Priory was not far from Chorrol, and she arrived a little after midnight. There was a small chapel and one other building which seemed to be something like living quarters, and behind that was a small stable. Idari dismounted and guided the stolen paint horse into the stable, tying its reins to a post. She glanced around, checking that she had not been followed. When she was certain that there was nobody nearby she headed to the door of the larger building and tried the handle. The door was locked and Idari swore angrily.

She delved into a pocket of her black armour and pulled out a lockpick. She knew that picking the lock was risky and could easily land her back in prison, but she wasn't prepared to wait until morning for somebody to open the door. In truth she didn't even know what race Jauffre was, so finding him while trespassing in an abbey didn't seem particularly simple either.

The door was easy to unlock and held her back for a minute at most.

The Dunmer snuck inside and looked around furtively for anyone who could be Jauffre. There were no people on the ground floor, and the faint glow of candlelight from upstairs was the only light in the building. Idari suspected the monks would be asleep given the hour. Sitting ducks if she ever received a warrant for their assassination.

She made it up the stairs without a sound, noting the difference in stability between these and the ones she had encountered in Bruma. The stairs branched partway up and led to two landings on opposite sides of the building. Idari took the leftmost stairs to approach the candlelight. There were several men curled up in the beds that lined the wall, but she realised she had no way of knowing which man to wake and scowled at the thought of having to spend the entire night here.

From the landing she could see a dim glow coming from the opposite landing, shrouded from the ground floor by large bookcases. She crept across the stairs and peered around the corner to see a man propped up against a large desk writing something. He looked bored but was largely indistinct from the monks that she had seen sleeping on the other side of the building. Idari realised that her choices were now limited to approaching this man for answers or being caught trespassing when he decided to stop working. She chose to confront him.

She straightened herself from her sneaking crouch and slipped around the bookcase, sauntering across the room. The man looked old and appeared, on first glance, to be a Breton. His hair was grey and thinning, and Idari wondered how long it had been since he had last seen a proper battle.

He noticed her immediately, but made no move to attack or draw a weapon. "Who are you?" the man demanded, sitting bolt upright in his chair. "And why are you here?"

"My name is Idari, and I have come to this place seeking a man named Jauffre on some delicate matters."

"I am Jauffre," the man replied. Outwardly he appeared to relax, but Idari saw his mouth set into a hard line. "What is your business at this late hour?"

"The Emperor is dead..."

"I know. I read about it in the Black Horse Courier over a month ago," the Breton snapped, cutting her off. Everybody in Cyrodiil would have read about it in the Black Horse Courier by now.

Idari fixed the Breton with a look of complete scorn. "The Emperor is dead and so are all of his heirs," she continued, repeating the first part of the sentence with added emphasis. "But apparently there is another heir which you know about, and so I have brought you this..." She dove into a pocket and pulled out the 'Amulet of Kings' that the Emperor had pushed into her hands with his final breath. To her it seemed of overinflated importance, and so she hadn't given any thought to abandoning her 'duty' when she had left the prison with it stashed in her pocket.

Jauffre gripped the arms of his chair in shock at seeing the ornate jewellery, recognising it instantly. During his career with the Blades he had seen this amulet many times and knew that its appearance in the hands of a trespassing Dunmer could not be a coincidence. "How..? Where did you get this? The initial reports said that it was missing from the Emperor's body when he was found."

"The Emperor gave it to me."

"A likely story," the Breton scoffed. "When would someone like you have had a chance to meet the Emperor, let alone be given the Amulet of Kings?"

"I was there when he was killed," she replied simply, enjoying the look of shock crossing the Blade's face.

"I think you should explain yourself," Jauffre replied through gritted teeth. "Now." He had half risen out of his seat.

Idari paused to consider whether she should tell him the cynical or the bloodthirsty version of the truth. Neither seemed as though they would go down well with this Breton. The Redguard in the Prison had been much more understanding of her story and had even told her where to go to find Jauffre, though she could no longer remember his name. She hadn't told him that she had the Amulet of Kings, just that the Emperor had told him to find Jauffre about a matter of some importance. At the time she had thought to fence to Amulet and return to Morrowind, but something had always stopped her from ridding herself of its burden.

"It all began in the Imperial City Prison," she explained slowly. She debated telling him that she was in there for theft and resisting arrest, but she decided against it. Knowing that she had slain guards was likely to end up with her back in prison. "I don't have time to tell the full story, so let's just get this over with. The imbecile prison guards had placed me in the wrong cell ahead of my execution. The Emperor and three of his most incompetent Blades had planned to access a hidden escape tunnel inside my cell to get away from the assassins who had murdered his heirs. I don't know why they thought putting an escape tunnel in a prison cell was a good idea, it is completely illogical to me, and makes it all too easy for prisoners to escape. Anyway, I was pardoned of my crimes by the Emperor; he said that he had seen my face in his dreams and something about destiny or... I don't know, something equally inane. I followed them down their 'secret' escape tunnel which, by the way, they didn't bother to seal behind them and left completely unsecured. I don't know who trained those morons, but they need to be stabbed in the face. Two of the Blades were ambushed and killed by the assassins and then the Emperor was struck down when I was told to guard him without being properly armed, as if I could do anything to help him. He gave me this Amulet before he fell. Simple enough for you?"

Jauffre leant forward and snatched the Amulet of Kings from Idari's hand. He peered at it closely, perhaps searching for some sign that it was a clever forgery. "What you say seems very far-fetched," he mumbled. "But the Emperor was renowned for having visions of what will be in the future, so I don't doubt that what you said could have happened. I won't ask what you did to be awaiting execution. If the Emperor pardoned you then I shall trust his good judgement." He slipped the Amulet into a pocket of his robes and leant back. "Tell me, was there anything distinctive about the assassins that could be used to track their movements?"

"I did not come here to be asked all of these useless questions," the Dunmer retorted impatiently. "But they wore ridiculous red robes and used shoddily bound armour and weapons. There is nothing else I can tell you. I was poorly armed, unarmoured and Silenced, and did my best to stay clear of the fighting because I was obviously the only person in those tunnels with even a shred of sense. They weren't very good assassins, and had they not leapt from a secret passageway behind me I probably could have taken them on unarmed and won. Before he died the Emperor told me that you knew of an heir who could put an end to this madness. I don't want to be involved any more than I already have been, but I have brought you the messages that I was asked to bring." She turned on her heels and began to walk away.

The Blade sighed. "You're an impatient one," he said in a low voice. Idari stopped in her tracks. "Many years ago the Emperor summoned me to his room in my capacity as a Captain of the Blades. A baby boy lay sleeping in a basket and I knew at once that the baby was the Emperor's illegitimate son. He told me to take the boy away and to watch over him as he grew, knowing that his claim to the Cyrodilic throne would never need to be known unless there was some unforeseen disaster. Though it seems that by a cruel twist of fate he is now the last surviving heir to the Septim dynasty. I told nobody of his existence, but I did as I was bid and followed his progress as he was adopted by a poor couple. For a while I lost track of him somewhere near the Gold Coast, but then he reappeared suddenly as a priest in Kvatch. Last my intelligence told me he was still there. Now, you tell me if the Emperor said anything else to you before he died."

Idari spun around again, gripping the hilt of her sword. "He told me to 'close shut the jaws of Oblivion'. I don't know what that is supposed to mean, but if the kid was in Kvatch then this was all completely pointless. Kvatch fell to the daedra little over a month ago. There were very few survivors."

"I heard the Oblivion gate at Kvatch was closed."

"It was. I closed it."

Jauffre stood up abruptly, his chair slid backwards loudly. "Then you go back to Kvatch and search through the survivors," he growled. "Do not tell me all is lost until you find Martin, or you find Martin's corpse among the rubble. I don't care if it takes you a full year to comb through every chunk of plaster, every splinter of wood."

"A priest named Martin?" the Dunmer replied, unfazed. "I know that the chapel in Kvatch still mostly stands, so perhaps the priest inside of it survived, but I don't know for certain because the city was badly damaged in the siege and most of its people were stuck in a camp down the hillside."

"Good," the Breton replied harshly. "You be sure to bring Martin back with you, dead or alive. Do so and you will be compensated for your time." He stood up and fixed his cold grey eyes on her face. "And Miss Mortha, next time you decide to steal a priceless relic from the Emperor of Tamriel, I would suggest that you be upfront about it with his Blades. The reports I received said that a prisoner escaped with the Emperor but she claimed to know nothing of the missing Amulet. I do not know what the Emperor saw in your future, but if you lie to me or my Blades again I will have you placed right back into the Imperial Prison before you get another chance to endanger lives."

Idari scowled. "I will go to Kvatch for you this once, but so not expect me to be some pathetic errand runner for you." She strode across the room to the stairs, then stopped and turned back to face the old man. "Oh, and the next time you attempt to threaten me you won't live long enough to explain yourself. Good night."

Jauffre stared at her as she leapt over the balcony and he heard the door slamming closed behind her. He pulled the Amulet of Kings back out of his robes and sighed, staring at the ruby red gem in the centre. He knew that this unorthodox Ashlander was the only hope Cyrodiil had left. She was the only person in the province who had managed to close an Oblivion gate and survive, and if the Emperor had truly had visions of her then she was no doubt going to be of great importance over the next few months. He just didn't know how long she would be willing to do what he asked of her.

At the sound of a tentative cough, his grey eyes lifted from the Amulet - which he hastily thrust into a drawer of his desk - and he saw the elderly prior standing before him.

"Is anything wrong, Brother Jauffre?" he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes and stifling a yawn.

"Nothing, Father," the Blade replied calmly. "Just an associate of mine dropping in with a progress report. Do not concern yourself with it. Go back to sleep."

Prior Maborel shifted uneasily. "The doors were locked tonight, Brother Jauffre, and your associates know to visit during daylight hours. They also left in something of a hurry... I think they've broken one of Brother Piner's vases..."

"There is nothing wrong," Jauffre repeated. "The matter was an urgent one and she was required to pick the lock. From now on, Father Maborel, I suggest leaving the doors unlocked at night so that when she returns she does not have to pick it again. I expect her to be returning within a fortnight. I will take responsibility for Piner's vase, he need not know anything about this. He still sleeps, I assume."

"Of course," Maborel chuckled. "Not even Oblivion itself could wake him. You should get some sleep yourself, Brother. It is getting late."

Jauffre nodded. "I will, Father. I just have a package to deal with before I turn in for the night. It is very important that this is done tonight because of its sensitivity. I never expected that my retirement would be cut quite so short, but I fear I may be leaving you soon, Father, to return to the Blades. They will need a Grandmaster - Captains Renault and Steffan have done a good job, mark my words, but Renault was recently killed in action and with this Oblivion Crisis I fear things will only get worse."

"Very well, Brother. Talos guide you in your journey, wherever it takes you in this life. Goodnight, Brother," the prior replied, inclining his head courteously and leaving the small study.

The Grandmaster massaged his temples in an attempt to soothe his aching head and sighed deeply. In the months since he had heard about the sacking of Kvatch he hadn't thought to send his agents to find Martin. He kicked himself for being so distracted by the death of the Emperor that he had forgotten about such an important charge of his. For all he knew the Emperor's only heir could have been killed in the siege of Kvatch and he was the only person who could be held responsible. If Martin was alive, the gods willing, Jauffre would escort him to Cloud Ruler Temple where he would be safe from harm until a plan could be drawn up to avenge the Emperor's murder.

Jauffre smiled at the prospect of revenge. He prayed to Talos that he would live to see the day that he could restore Septim blood to the throne. He had never liked High Chancellor Ocato, and didn't wish the Altmer to retain his position of power for longer than necessary.

Now outside, Idari Mortha cursed loudly as she fumbled with the knots she'd tied to keep her horse in place. Her fingers were cold and turning numb, and she couldn't remember the last time she had had a full night's rest. She was about to draw her sword to cut the horse free when another Dunmer ran up to her and demanded of her who she was and where she came from. She told him that she had visited Jauffre and would now be on her way. He insisted that people who had business with Jauffre knew to come during daylight hours and Idari felt her patience growing thin.

Idari was considering ways in which she could kill the interfering stable hand when the knots suddenly came free. She swung herself up onto her horse and told the Dunmer through gritted teeth that she wouldn't bother him again. She wondered why this didn't appear to comfort the man. Admittedly, she might have called him the son of an Ashland whore, and might have accused him of having sexual relationships with the sheep she'd seen around the priory, but that was no reason for him to be so aggressive towards her. She rode away from him as he started to shout curses at her.

The journey was a long one, but would have taken longer if she'd followed the roads instead of riding through the countryside as the crow flies. The horse was pathetically slow and she named it 'Turner' after the stupid Argonian she'd picked up in Bruma.

She could see Kvatch from miles away. The black smoke still billowed into the sky from the wreckage of the city. The first time she had approached the city the sky had been a shade of red. That was what had drawn her towards the danger in the first place

For a brief moment she wondered if the Emperor had wanted her to shut all of the Oblivion gates in order to 'close shut the jaws of Oblivion' but then she realised that the senile old fool would never have tasked such a large job to a single Dunmeri murderer who had just happened to appear to him in a dream one night.

Strewn in front of the now closed gate were the corpses of daedra, just left to rot. The single corpse of a fallen guard had been laid out peacefully near the survivors' camp. The head of the Kvatch guard, Savlian Matius, was still outside the walls of the city, waiting to lead a squad of men inside to destroy the remaining threats. He had fewer men than he had had under his command when she had left before, and she knew that this was definitely not his first attempt at a raid. She wondered how he still had men under his command if, after a month, they still had yet to retake even as far as the chapel. How many times had they tried and failed to reclaim their city from the daedra?

Idari dismounted and approached him. She whistled loudly and half of the guards clutched their ears in pain. "I need to find Martin," she shouted towards them, though she didn't quicken her pace to meet them.

"You again?" Savlian Matius growled. There was a deep scar on his cheek that had not been there the last time she had seen him. "Last you were here you told us that our city could burn because you hadn't the time to help us protect it, and now you're interested in finding survivors? You've some nerve, ashborn. Martin was in the city when it was attacked, if he's alive then he's still inside the chapel. Do you plan to help us this time, or are you still too busy?"

"Well, it is your city, so really you should be the one to take it back." Idari smirked at him. "But seeing as I've been gone a month and you still haven't built up the courage to even open the gate - meaning the people in the chapel have either been mauled by daedra or died or starvation by now... I guess you're just too scared to give the order to go in. In any case, I need Martin and you need your city, so for now our needs are the same: to re-secure at least part of Kvatch so I can get him out of there."

"And what's so important about Brother Martin that you need to save him so much more than anyone else?" the Imperial replied tersely.

"He's more important than your tiny Imperial mind could even comprehend." She dug her heels into the ground and drew her swords. "Right, open the gates then!"

The guards edged the gates open so slowly that Idari got impatient and rushed in as soon as they were far enough apart for her to slip through. The entire area was surrounded by destroyed buildings and in the centre of what had once been a courtyard was a plinth without a statue on it. The way to the town's keep was blocked by the crumbled remains of the chapel's spired tower which had been torn off during the first wave of the assault on the city. A dozen or so scamps milled about in the ruins, scavenging through the wreckages. She took the first daedra by surprise, decapitating two smaller scamps before another flung a fireball in her direction. It hit her in the side as she twisted to impale a scamp hiding in the rubble of what had once been a house. She shrugged it off. Fire had little effect on her when she was wearing her armour.

By the time the Kvatch guard made it through the gate in force she had managed to take out a number of the weaker daedra, leaving only a handful of the scamps alive.

She slipped past the remaining enemies and into the Chapel of Akatosh. There were only half a dozen survivors in the chapel and they were huddled up near the altar around a lit candle. The fires burning outside and the gaping hole in the roof where the tower had once been meant that everything was blanketed in a thick layer of dark ash. Bodies were lined up against one wall; the first few were covered with cloths and sheets but the later ones were shrouded by nothing but dust.

"Martin," she snapped. Weary heads turned towards her. Most of the faces were emaciated. She wondered what they had kept themselves alive with for over a month. Maybe that explained why the first few bodies were covered. "You need to come with me, now. Let's get going."

An Imperial man in a tattered priest's robe stared at her for a long time. His blue eyes were so intense and felt familiar to her. He didn't make any attempt to stand.

"Are you deaf?" she asked him. Then, turning to the others in the chapel, she demanded: "Is he deaf?"

"I am not deaf," he said in a low, calculating voice. "Who are you and why are you asking for me?"

"My name isn't important. You need to go to Weynon Priory because the assassins who killed your father are going to come after you just as soon as they figure out that you have survived this siege."

Martin looked shocked. "My father was a farmer, he died many years ago..."

"You've been living a lie!" Idari shouted, drawing more attention as Savlian Matius and his guardsmen marched in through the chapel doors. "Your 'father' was no more related to you than I am. Get your things. We're leaving."

The priest didn't move a muscle, he didn't even flinch. "Tell me why you want me to go with you and abandon these people when they need me most."

The Dunmer drew her sword. The guards reacted by drawing their own weapons, but neither party made any move to attack as Idari tried to stay focused on saving all of Tamriel from Oblivion. "The people here don't need a priest. They need an Emperor. You will be of far more use to them if you come with me. Get moving."

"Emperor? My father was a farmer, not an Emperor..." Martin replied. He look puzzled as he finally pushed himself to his feet.

"Enough with the farmer already!" Idari shouted. She swung her sword at a pew angrily and hacked a chunk from the wood. "What do you think the Emperor's wife would have said when she learned of his illegitimate child? Of course he hid you away! Now all the heirs they knew about are dead and that leaves you. Or do you want Cyrodiil - or indeed all of Tamriel - to fall to Mehrunes Dagon because you believed yourself to be the son of some long dead farmer?"

"Illegitimate son?" the priest whispered in surprise. The other people in the chapel exchanged glances.

Idari grabbed the priest by the wrist and dragged him out into the streets of of the sacked city. "This is what they did to Kvatch!" she shouted, gesturing the destruction around her as the fires still raged. "And you know what? This was all because Dagon figured out where you were! Soon he'll send the assassins he sent after your father here for you as well. Two of the Blades fell to those assassins, so imagine what they'd do to a small, depleted town like this! If you go to Weynon Priory now, at least what's left of Kvatch might be spared." She was surprising herself that she sounded so convincing, but she pressed on. She told him about the other Oblivion gates she'd shut and about how other cities would soon fall because she was the only one who knew how to shut them. "It's your choice, Martin," she concluded. "Save all of Cyrodiil, likely all of Tamriel by now - or stay here and watch your city burn. The blood of everybody who dies in Kvatch from now on will be entirely your fault. Consider yourself lucky that somebody showed up to warn you before the assassins moved in."

"All this death?" Martin said quietly. "Could it possibly all have been to kill me? Could I actually have prevented this? We'll leave right away, I don't need to collect any things. Just as long as we can put an end to all of this thoughtless death."

Author Note: I apologise for this chapter. Unfortunately being forced to work within the framework of the original chapter meant that there was little I could do to fix some of the most glaring plot holes. I fear this is probably the best I can do with what I have at the moment