A.N. Many thanks to all those who have been reading and reviewing. You guys rock. :) Bellamont has yet to make his appearance, but at least I managed to make J'Ghasta appear in this chapter. And there will be a major surprise in the next chapter.
Hi antihero. :) Good to hear from you again. I try to keep Lucien and Antoinetta as much in picture as the progress of the plot allows. Thank you for the support.
Hi Poppy. I'm happy that you found the chemistry between the main characters working. Hopefully I can keep things that way and you will like this chapter. Thank you for the kind review. ^_^
Chapter Seven
J'Ghasta idly fiddles with his whiskers, throwing occasional glances at the burning letter in blazing flame. He has already memorised every word of Ungolim's written communication. It bothers him to know that the traitor still lives and is most likely to be a member of the Black Hand. The question is 'Who?'. He knows Arquen has long suspected Lucien Lachance. The Night Mother's revelation will only strengthen her misgivings. J'Ghasta, however, does not believe that Lucien is the culprit. If the Imperial were the traitor, he would have attacked the members of the Hand first. Lucien has the ability to kill off any Hand member. There is no reason why he would have attacked his own sanctuary first.
In theory, Arquen or Banus could well be the assassin among assassins. It is, however, doubtful that they had the time to locate and kill off Lucien's subordinates. J'Ghasta's suspicion, therefore, falls on the Silencers. He rules out Hoar-Blood from the list. The Nord is known to spend most of his free time with his pet wolf. It never took more than a few hours before his Silencer responded to his call when not out on a contract. That narrows the potential suspects to three Hand members. The Khajiit rubs his delicate nose, trying to think what it is that Ungolim keeps from the council of the Hand. He would have expected an emergency meeting, given the grievous situation. Not everything is what it seems, and he has a sneaky feeling that Ungolim is on to something. Banus and Arquen may be kept in the dark as to the Listener's intentions. J'Ghasta, however, happens to have a client to visit in Leyawiin, and Bravil seems an ideal place to stop by.
The constant tap tapping of rain on the window slowly draws Antoinetta out of deep sleep. The first thing she notices about her, apart from the unpleasant hangover, is that she is back in the rented room of Silverhome on the Water. Lucien must have carried her back all the way. The thought causes her to smile, despite the unpleasant aches in her body. Soon, she detects something else, which turns her smile into a rather idiotic grin. She is wearing her nightdress. Since she was probably in no state to change her outfit, she can only deduce one conclusion, and it is a pleasing one.
Having had her agility and stealth return to her, Antoinetta moves about the room noiselessly and finds a flask of water to quench her thirst. She ponders what time of day it is and whether Lucien is still asleep. The lattice windows are now covered by makeshift black curtains, her Speaker's handiwork. His fondness for darkness plausibly explains why he has chosen Fort Farragut as his residence. That, and probably the fact that he does not have to pretend to be an ordinary citizen of Tamriel. Antoinetta cannot but feel rather disappointed as a quick glance towards his bed reveals Lucien's absence. She did not expect him to spend all his time with her in Bravil. However, their situation presents a rather unique opportunity for her to get close to him, and she wants to feel his presence at every moment while it lasts.
"Lucien," Antoinetta murmurs softly, slipping her hand under the blanket and feeling the faint warmth that still lingers. She is almost tempted to lie where he lay and go back to sleep, but resists the temptation, the pursuit of which will probably achieve nothing towards her goal of gaining his affection. He must have left a message of sorts, expecting her to follow his orders. Soon enough, her palm lands on a folded parchment that stands out against the smooth surface of the bed sheet. Antoinetta's cheeks burn in embarrassment. He seems to have developed a knack of predicting her behaviour in the bedroom environment.
Dear Eliminator,
If you are reading this note before noon, it is likely that you suffer from the effects of enjoyable but somewhat unrestrained drinking. A green bottle on the desk will help you to remedy that little problem. I believe that you will remember well the location of the cave we visited together. Travel to the place unobserved. I will join you there after my audience with the Listener. Judging from the number of wine bottles we emptied, I trust that I will not have to wait long, if at all.
Lucien Lachance
"How is she doing?" asks Ungolim, gesturing Lucien to sit down on a low upholstered chair in the dim lit living room.
Lucien ponders the question a little. The Listener could be asking about anything, ranging from Antoinetta's health to her suitability for the task ahead. It is, however, not likely that Ungolim has developed sudden tenderness towards his subordinates.
"She is just as loyal and willing as she was before the purification," replies the Imperial Speaker. The almost imperceptible look of relief on Ungolim's face confirms that Lucien's assumption was not wrong. The Listener probably was concerned about the possibility that Antoinetta might be suffering from disillusion and bitterness.
"Has there been any further revelation from our Lady?" Lucien ventures, seeing that his host is beginning to fall into a meditative silence.
"Her words puzzle me somewhat. She told me that the course of Fate continued its reversing trend. I believe it is something to do with my decision to send Arquen to Cheydinhal, but I cannot comprehend the exact meaning behind her wisdom," Ungolim replies, then elaborates further, seeing Lucien's mystified look. "I told Arquen that she should see to it that the former residents of your sanctuary get a decent burial and that she would be in charge of recruitment till you could return to your normal responsibilities."
The Listener has been greatly relieved by the reception he got from his Lady on the previous night. Her tone resumed its caressing and seductive charm. Still, she seemed to have forgotten how to offer straightforward guidance. The crisis is far from being over. At least, however, Arquen will be too busy to be disruptive for a while. Her persistent distrust of Lachance has been already rubbing off on Banus. Ungolim returns the Imperial Speaker's appreciative smile and dismisses him from their brief meeting. He doesn't believe Lachance can offer useful insight into the hidden meaning behind the Night Mother's words. Perhaps, she didn't want to be understood. If her tone is anything to go by, however, things are improving.
The chamber at the back of the cave looks more spacious after Lucien shifted furniture around the room so that they all face one side of the room. It should be able to accommodate one more bedroll comfortably. Outside the rain pours down, and Antoinetta will be grateful for the warmth from the open fire. An assassin's life is often a life on the road, and it isn't that charming to be drenched in rain. Lucien certainly knows how to appreciate life indoors, even when away. He does, however, miss Fort Farragut and his usual duties. He has never envied the position of the Listener; speaking for their Unholy Matron has appealed to him more.
Life, however, will never be the same after what happened to his assassins. It will require years of work before the Cheydinhal Sanctuary can be restored to its former glory. A Speaker without competent subordinates carries little weight. Why, out of all the Speakers, was it he who had to bear the heaviest burden? The Night Mother's love is never gentle; she likes to test her dear children in the harshest manner. The policy of the Brotherhood when it comes to failure faithfully reflects her ways of love. Those who get caught while carrying out a contract are on their own.
Ignorance and incompetence are two of the most grievous sins that offend their Lady. He does not know whether she will smile at her Hand again. He regards, however, her revelations to Ungolim as a good sign. It was the Fate that he felt was working against him. Though he is as much in the dark as Ungolim about the exact meanings behind her words, he suspects that its terrible tide has turned for the better. That awareness does not, however, stop at providing a sense of welcoming optimism; it also causes a temporary lapse in his focus on the present and the future.
"Speaker?" Antoinetta calls out, her voice concerned. Though she was at her best with stealth, it worries her that Lucien has not noticed her coming in.
"Do you miss them?" Lucien asks offhandedly, his back still turned away from her.
Antoinetta hesitates to give her answer. He has not shown any sign of regret over the death of her family, his assassins. Strangely enough, it never bothered her, because it somewhat implied his strength. No sane Speaker would gladly agree to destroying his own limbs. He could not have been happy with the Hand decision. No one else in the Hand would have cared for the survival of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary as he did.
"Do you blame me for what happened to your Brothers and Sisters?"
He throws another question, slowly turning towards her. Antoinetta struggles to make out the expression on his face. It is impassive just like the tone which preceded it. There is, however, a flash of unease in his eyes. Then, she finally understands. She is the only one left with whom he can possibly communicate the sense of grief stemming from the meaningless sacrifice of his subordinates. It is not going to be the same kind of grief she feels; it is likely to be more akin to a sense of failure rather than guilt. All the same, she is the only one whom he can betray a glimpse of his thoughts on the event that brought them closer.
As Antoinetta tries to speak, Lucien shakes his head with a smile. The wetness of her face and lips makes her much too desirable. If he were not careful, he would ruin their valuable training session. Work always has to take precedence over play.
"I understand you do not blame me for the loss of your family. You should. I have no excuse for that particular failure of mine. But enough of this unproductive sentimentality. It does not serve Sithis. Come closer and take off your cloak, child. You must be soaked to the bone."
Antoinetta takes a towel from Lucien's hand and begins to dry her hair. The heat from the open fire rapidly warms her chilled body, and she is glad of the attentive care she is receiving from her Speaker.
"Do you know how to summon creatures?" Lucien asks, seeing Antoinetta placing the wet towel on a wooden chair.
"I have not yet learned that area of magic," Antoinetta confesses, her voice small.
"Then I will have to teach you conjuration spells sometime. I cannot always be with you to summon skeletons for your practice."
"You will teach me how to immobilise my targets?" Antoinetta cannot suppress a tone of excitement from her voice. Not that it would have achieved anything. Lucien can read her face like a book.
"I trust you will learn the spell and the extent of its demands on your magicka before nightfall," Lucien confirms.
