Chapter Six
Thane and Mutte walked in through the door that led into the prisoner, escorted by a pair of armed guards. The general turned to the guards and nodded his head. "Thank you, men. My friend and I will take it from here." The guards saluted them both before stepping back out of the building. It wasn't long before Thane and Mutte found their way to the corridor of cells that had housed the escaped criminal. A priest from the temple was already present and was studying two motionless bodies that were inside the cell. The priest was accompanied by a guard who turned and saluted both the general and the mage.
Both of them returned the salute before entering the cell. "Have you found out anything about how the criminal escaped?"
"We think so, sir." The guard returned to the priest and motioned down at one of the bodies. Thane leaned forward slightly and noticed how familiar the boy looked. It took him a few seconds until he finally grasped at who the boy reminded him of. "Somehow we hired a new kitchen aid that looked a lot like the prisoner, and he used his thieving skills to kill the boy and his guard companion to take the boy's place. This story has been verified by some of my men who have said that they saw the boy returning to the kitchen without his guard accompanying him."
"Then how did he escape from the kitchen? I heard that the cook, the cook's assistant, and a guard were all slaughtered during his break-out." Mutte examined the boy's body and Thane noticed a look on his friend's face that he hadn't seen ever since the Mage War. It was the look of grim determination. If Mutte found the criminal before Thane, he would no doubt pass a much harsher judgment of the boy than Thane would.
"That is exactly how, sir. He killed those three and walked out through the back door. One of the first things we did when we learned of his escape was to put the whole city under a watchful eye. No one is allowed to come into town or to leave for any reason until we catch him. If he hasn't already slipped past us, we'll catch him." The guard seemed proud of his work so far, but Thane thought differently.
"I apologize for stating this out loud, but that won't do. The people of Underhill depend on the trade routes and the farmlands outside of the walls, and they will most likely revolt before the month is through. Not only that, but the people will begin to starve from lack of food. Open the city gates back up and I will hunt him down myself with a band of soldiers. Until then, just do your job and keep this city safe from bandits and Breton rebels." Thane knew from experience that if you told a soldier that what he is doing is wrong, he loses all faith in himself but that he will also strive to do better if you give him a different task to accomplish.
"Of course, sir. I will do as you command." The guard bowed his head slightly and was about to leave the room until Thane grabbed his arm firmly.
"Before I forget, there is one man I want you to particularly keep an eye out for. I barely saw any part of him, but he wore a dark colored cloak and had the hood up. I believe he was of Dunmer origin. I also know that he is capable of using incredible powers, so if there comes a man like that and causes some trouble around town, you have permission to use any force necessary to end his life. Understood?" The guard looked at Thane questioningly for a few moments before smiling and nodding his head.
"I understand completely, sir."
Mutte followed the priest from the Moth Temple as the investigation at the prison continued, letting himself be lead to the kitchen where the bodies of the cook, the cook's assistant, and a guard were being gathered up for proper burials. Through the air inside of the kitchen, Mutte knew that powerful had been used to allow the boy's escape from the prison. Magic that he knew to be long forgotten. How could a boy use such power if the style of magic was meant to be lost and forgotten for several centuries?
Then the aged mage caught onto something that could help further explain what happened. He learned once that whenever a mage of great power cast a spell, the winds of magic carried with them that mage's magical scent. Mutte always believed himself to be an expert at detecting these scents and identifying them, but this one was unfamiliar. He knew he had caught it before, but he just could not place the mage with the scent.
"That is very strange," the priest spoke aloud in a corner of the kitchen. "The books have spoken of this scent only once before."
Mutte turned to the priest eagerly. "You are able to identify magical scents as well? That is not a common ability among us magic-wielders."
"You are correct there, my friend, but more of us are beginning to grow that skill. Perhaps it is a effect left over from the Mage War." The priest began to pace in a wide circle around the room, and Mutte simply watched him. Then something changed in the air. It was a sudden electrical charge had been sent through the entire room. The hairs on Mutte's beard stood at their ends and the priest grew completely still. "By the Nine."
"What was that?" Mutte turned his head and caught a shadow fleeing through the hallway. He watched it go but decided that it wasn't worth tracking down, instead turning back to the priest.
"It was an ancient summoning spell, used by the same mage that had done all of this." Now Mutte could identify the scent of the magic much more clearly, and he remembered where he remembered it from. The previous night when they had found Gudo in his study, the intruder had this magical scent all around him. That could only mean the one thing Mutte was afraid to admit to him and especially to Thane. The new Nerevarine had a hand in all of this.
Tiram cursed when her horse jerked underneath her. The movement nearly threw her out of the saddle, but she held on and patted her mount's neck soothingly. "It's okay, girl. I'll get you out of this ash storm as soon as I can." She then sighed and sat up straight in the saddle, relaxing when she felt the horse loosen its muscles. The Imperial courier turned her head and looked back at the city gate of Underhill over her shoulder. The guards still stood at attention with their spears at ready, awaiting her return from her search. "I guess I better get on with it." Tiram pulled up her face mask and directed the horse into the storm.
It didn't take long before she could hardly see her hand in front of her face in the storm, following the road only by sheer luck. Her horse also was obviously against going deeper into the storm, but she had a duty to find the criminal. In her years of being a courier for the Imperial Legion, she had also learned many tracking techniques that would let her stalk and essentially capture an escaped criminal like this. She would just have to wait until they broke through the storm so that she could see more clearly.
As she rode through the hard currents of ash, she had a lot of time to think. She remembered the words that Thane had said to her, and her grip on the reins tightened. It was true that she was used to running away from all of her troubles, but not this time. She would see this through to the end even if things got a little dangerous. She had lost the love of her life because of her cowardice, and then had lost her father in the same way. Granted one was possibly killed during the Mage War and the other had been a target of the Dark Brotherhood, but she could have helped either one of them if she had only stayed.
Tiram was brought out of her thoughts when her horse suddenly stopped, its breath growing deep and rapid. She looked up and noticed that her mount's head was tilted to one side, as if it were watching something carefully. It took her awhile but a break in the ash storm opened up and she caught sight of a young person off in the distance. She smiled to herself and snapped the reins hard, giving an encouraging yelp to help her mount move forward. Her horse drove forward swiftly and they cut through the winds of the storm, very quickly catching up with the figure she had seen earlier.
The figure turned and Tiram saw the glint of steel, throwing herself out of her saddle just in time as a dagger flew past her. She barely had time to lift herself off the ground before the figure tackled her back the ground. The two of them wrestled on the ground for several seconds before finally the stranger, a young boy in his teens by the build and voice of him, grabbed the advantage. He pinned Tiram to the ground with his knees and one hand, pounding his fist into her face. Spots filled the courier's vision and she barely registered it when the boy's fist came down the second time. This time she could taste blood.
"I will never go back there," the boy said in a rough voice. He then stood up from her bruised body, kicking his boot down into her stomach once before rushing over to grab his dagger from where it landed. Tiram's vision began to darken and she could only watch as the boy sheathed his dagger and mounted her horse with amazing agility. The boy then kicked his heels into the horse's side, driving it forward and rushing into the ash storm and out of sight.
Tiram laid there for several minutes, praying to the Nine Divine that someone would come for her. After those minutes, she accepted that no one would come and willed herself to stand. It took several seconds but she was able to do it with only a little effort. The boy had damaged her body much less than she had realized at first. She cursed herself again for being so weak and started walking back in the direction she believed would lead her back to Underhill. Though she may not have caught the boy and had only succeeded in giving him a faster means of travel, she had the authority to pass a warrant on him. By the time she was healthy back in Underhill, every guard and bounty hunter would be out for this boy's head.
The guard posted at the west gate of Underhill sighed and wiped his mouth. It was his first week on the job and it was just his luck that he had to work his shift through an ash storm. He spat out some ash that had made it into his open mouth, coughing when only more of it blew into his face. Finally taking the advice of his superiors, he brought up his cloth face mask and breathed deeply in relief. He closed his eyes for a second and listened to the wind. It was something he had enjoyed doing ever since he was a child, and it still calmed his nerves to do so.
When he opened his eyes again, there stood a stranger in front of him. The stranger was dressed in a robe and had the hood up which hid his face. According to duty, the guard readied his spear and spoke in his most intimidating voice. "Who goes there?" The stranger said nothing and instead took a step forward. The guard tensed up and tightened his grip on his spear. "Halt and answer my question, stranger!" Again, the stranger advanced without a word.
The rules of engagement for a guard was that if a suspicious stranger refused to cooperate after two warnings, the guard had permission to use any force necessary to stop him. So the guard rushed forward with his spear leveled at the stranger's heart. When he was no more than two feet away from hitting his mark, the stranger waved his hand to one side. The guard flew to the side that the stranger waved to and hit the ground hard. The stranger advanced on the guard, and he knew from the look in the man's eyes that he would not survive for much longer. Though he knew he did not stand a chance against this stranger, he could alert the town to the presence of danger.
The last thing the guard saw was a bright light forming in the palm of his own hand. He held it up and smirked up at the stranger, feeling triumphant when he noticed the stranger's look of surprise. It was meant as a fireball spell, but he willed the magic to collapse on itself and this caused his spell to have a very different effect. At that moment, the people in Underhill were shocked when the ground shook beneath their feet and a large explosion ripped open the western gate of the walls.
Thane rushed out into the street from the prison and looked to the west, cursing under his breath when he saw the smoke mixing in with the winds of the ash storm. Mutte was quick to join him outside and together they dashed for the west gates. People were panicking in the streets and many of them tried to stop the general and mage to ask them questions, but they pushed their way through. Only about two minutes after the explosion had gone off, they had arrived at the hole in the wall. Through the smoke and the rubble, both of them could see the one person they hoped they never would have so soon.
Mutte wasted no time in throwing spell after spell at the Nerevarine, but the Hero anticipated each attack it seemed and dodged most of the ones he didn't seem to just simply absorb. Thane unsheathed his sword and dagger both and charged forward. The magical assault continued which kept the Nerevarine busy while Thane closed the distance between them. Just as the general was about to slash the Hero's stomach open, his sword was met by the Nerevarine's own sword. Thane was stunned by what he saw in his enemy's hand. It was a scimitar of Dwemer make with a red flame surrounding the whole blade of the weapon. If he needed any proof that this being was the Nerevarine, it was that sword. Trueflame, or better known as the sword of Nerevar.
"My fight is not with the two of you just yet," the Nerevarine said before waving his left hand. Thane felt himself being thrown away from his opponent and land on the ground beside Mutte who had been thrown aside as well. When they had both scrambled back up to their feet, the Nerevarine was gone. Thane, who had thought he finally had the chance to avenge Gudo's death, screamed in defiance. Mutte merely watched wordlessly as the skies over Underhill began to clear up.
