Chapter 9
"That was weird," Bhed said. He leaned on the bar at the Count's Arms, nursing an ale. Thrissi perched on a stool next to him. All the shadowy corner tables were already taken, mostly by tall men and mer in cloaks. "I thought Dremora were, you know, demons."
"They are," Thrissi said. "How many demons do you suppose actually want to live in Hell?" She reached up and fingered her new mace lovingly. Bhed avoided looking at it. It hurt his eyes.
"Hm."
"You want ale?" the bartender said to Thrissi. Bhed didn't look at him. He could feel the man staring at his face.
"Mead," Thrissi said. The man shot her a look, but he came up with a small bottle and a glass. Thrissi drummed her fingers on the bar as she sipped. Bhed watched one ear twitch.
"So what are we going to do now?" he said.
"This one supposes we can probably obtain rooms here for the night."
"No, I mean after we go back and get the armor," Bhed said. "I assume continuing to be able to eat is a priority for you?"
"The highest, yes," Thrissi said. She grinned. "This one wishes you to have good armor for a reason beyond the goodness of her heart, friend Bhed."
"I thought so," said Bhed, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. "So what is it this time?"
"This one hopes to meet someone this evening who can tell her more," Thrissi said. "This one supposes you have not heard of the Robe of Rylyeh?"
Bhed frowned. The word seemed familiar. "We gave Modryn Oreyn something with a name like that. The letters of whatsisname."
"Rylyeh," Thrissi said. "He was a sorcerer. The robe is also called the Robe of the Traitor. Rylyeh made it for one who believed he was his friend. It causes the wearer to blend into any background, it can shield vampires from the sun, and Rylyeh claimed it would deflect weapons as well as light armor."
"Claimed," Bhed said.
"Indeed." Thrissi showed her teeth. "In fact the opposite was true. The robe does have a chameleon enchantment, yes. But apparently it gives ingress to any and all weapons without leaving a mark in the cloth itself. This one cannot speak to its efficacy regarding vampires, as it has not been owned by a vampire since the death of Rylyeh's friend. This one cannot imagine what must have happened to him."
"How do you know all that?" Bhed said.
"This one read the letters after she found them in the cave."
"You know we weren't supposed to read those," Bhed said. "It was part of the contract."
"This one is not a member of the Fighter's Guild and was not bound by the contract," Thrissi said smugly. Bhed rolled his eyes.
"And now you want us to steal. Were you in the Thieves Guild, too? How'd you get thrown out of there? Did you knee the Gray Fox in the - "
"This one is not a thief," Thrissi said.
"I'm pleased to hear it," said a voice. Bhed turned to see a scrawny Imperial in a worn robe standing near the bar. "This isn't work for a thief."
"You are late," Thrissi said.
"I was delayed," the man snapped. He ran nervous fingers through his ragged brown hair. "I have a room. We'll talk there. You can leave your pet ogre down here." He probably intended to say something else, but it was at that point that Thrissi flew off the bar stool and knocked him flat with an elbow to the chest. He sat up, coming as close to a snarl as is possible for a human face.
Bhed became aware of the sound of a large number of weapons being drawn by the cloaked people in the corners.
"Now, then," said the bartender. "You got a problem, you take it outside."
"No problem," the human said. He got up slowly. Thrissi watched him, one ear up and one down. "Just a little misunderstanding."
"This one would not wish you to misunderstand," Thrissi said. She had not drawn a weapon. "This one will be happy to provide you with a detailed description of what will happen to you if you speak of Bhed gro-Gamghaz that way once more. An inability to bear offspring will be the least of your worries."
"It's a small room," the man said.
"This will be a short conversation," Thrissi said. "This one is sure of it." She followed the scrawny Imperial up the stairs. Bhed went after them. He hadn't heard any weapons being sheathed yet. And the skinny human took that a little too well. One'll get you ten there's somebody in the room, and this's got nothing to do with the Robe of Whatsisname. Bhed reached up and quietly drew his warhammer.
The human went down the hall and unlocked the very last door. He pushed the door wide open. Then he glared into the room. "You! What are you doing in here?" Thrissi came up behind him, looking around his shoulder (he was too tall for her to look over it). Bhed edged over and peered into the room.
The room had one bed, a dresser, a table, and two chairs. One of the chairs held a tall Nord with one eye. He wore no eyepatch, and the socket was visibly shriveled and lidless. He was wearing ebony armor, and he sat with one hand resting on a short dagger that lay on the table. His hair was blond and long.
"It must be hard for you to throw that with no ability to gauge distances," Thrissi said.
"That's a myth," growled the Nord.
"No, it is not. This one has seen your aim," Thrissi said.
The Nord broke into a grin. He picked up the dagger and drove the blade into the tabletop with a thunk. "Hello, Luckless. Been a long time."
"Indeed it has, Towser," Thrissi said. "This one was sure you were dead. Move, you." The skinny Imperial edged into the room, glaring at all present. "What can this one do for you this afternoon?"
Bhed sheathed the warhammer as quietly as he'd drawn it and edged into the doorway. Human-made doorways were always too small, but an Orc got used to that. The Nord gave him one measuring glance and looked back at Thrissi.
"Vorgo the Fearless here has been going around saying he knows where the Robe of Rylyeh is," Towser said. "I paid him two hundred septims for that information last week. I'm here to, ah, remonstrate with him regarding its accuracy."
Vorgo the what? thought Bhed.
"Indeed?" Thrissi said. She looked thoughtfully at the Imperial. He avoided the narrowed yellow eyes.
"It was good information," he protested. "I divined it myself."
"Good old information, Vorgo," Towser said. "There's been nothing inside that ruin for weeks. Nothing but a couple of very angry ghosts."
"Well, the robe was there," the Imperial called Vorgo said stubbornly. "I can't help it if you got there too late."
"To how many people have you sold this information?" Thrissi said.
"A few," said the Imperial.
"Over how long?" He mumbled something. Thrissi stepped closer to him. "This one did not hear that." The man did not flinch, to his credit. He stared back angrily.
"A couple of months," he said.
"Months," snorted Towser. He rose from his chair, looming over the other two. "The first adventurer you told about it probably sold it for two thousand to a shopkeeper."
"And what were you going to ask for it, friend Towser?" Thrissi said.
"It's one of a kind. Ten thousand. Minimum."
Thrissi chuckled. "It appears neither of us will have that opportunity. Come. I do not think he is worth our trouble."
"Fine by me." He speared the Imperial with his one eye. Vorgo showed no sign of fear. "This runt is going to have enough problems when Verenir the Impaler finds out he's been had. Not many people get a name like Vorgo the Fearless because they're just too stupid to know what's good for them."
"You'll be sorry," Vorgo the Fearless said darkly.
"I'm already sorry," muttered Towser. "Were you going to introduce me to your Orcish friend, Luckless?"
"Orcish friend is Bhed gro-Gamghaz," Thrissi said. "Bhed, this is Towser Shortsight. He and I adventured together for a short while, and believe it or not, he lost the eye before I met him."
"Just Towser," the man said. "The joke gets old. Come on back downstairs, I'll buy you both a drink."
"Sure," Bhed said. He edged back out into the hall and started for the stairs. Vorgo the Fearless slammed the door behind the other two. "So you two were partners?"
"For a couple of months, perhaps," Thrissi said. "We did not suit each other well."
"Now, you were the one who said that," Towser said. "Not me."
"This one prefers partners who say little. Otherwise it is too easy to tell what they are thinking. This one suspects you agree."
"This is a funny streak of diplomacy you're suddenly developing," Towser said. Bhed tried to place the word diplomacy in the same mental category as Thrissi and came up with nothing.
"Perhaps this one is growing old, yes," Thrissi said mildly.
"Old at thirty? Ha. Wait 'til you're my age, woman," Towser said. "Ebony armor gets mighty cold in the morning in Frostfall when you're forty-five. I give my knees maybe another three years."
"Tsk," Thrissi said. "Poor old Towser, one foot in the grave. Shall this one help you down the stairs?" Bhed glanced back in time to see Towser swipe at her head with a heavy gauntlet. Thrissi ducked it easily and dealt him a poke in the ribs at the seam of his cuirass. He oofed good naturedly.
"Too slow," Thrissi said.
"I'll just get out of the way here," Bhed said, and stepped off the bottom step and almost ran into a tall Imperial in a black cloak.
"Watch where you're going, Orc," snapped the man. He was broad of shoulder and narrow of hip under the cape, and a raffish scar ran from forehead to chin, though the eye in the middle of it seemed inexplicably undamaged. (His eyes were a very vivid green beneath his black hair.) As he turned fully, Bhed saw the hilt of a very large sword belted to his hip. It was highly ornamental, black and twisted and covered with gemstones of red. His fingers were covered with rings, and a heavy amulet of mysterious design hung around his neck.
"Sorry," Bhed said.
"Not as sorry as you will be if you ever again cross paths with Mariso Blackbloodheart the Assassin," the man said. He whipped his cape around his ankles and stalked away. Thrissi paused beside Bhed to stare after him.
"Who is that?" she said.
"Said his name was Blackbloodheart," Bhed said. "Sound familiar?"
"The last person of that name this one encountered was a skinny Breton vampire with unusually large breasts, yes," Thrissi said. "Wearing armor which would not protect her against a mud crab with a butter knife."
"I saw somebody going by that, too," said Towser. "But it was some kind of elf with tattoos. She had funny eyes, too. Purple. Not that I spent much time looking at those, what with the armor and all."
"Best to avoid them," Thrissi said. "Let them once get started talking about their tragic past and they will never shut up, no. After you, friend Bhed."
Bhed wended his way among the tables back to the bar, trying to avoid encountering any more cloaked people. Some of them did have odd eye colors, now that he was looking. "Maybe we should stay somewhere else tonight," he said.
"I know of this house nobody's using," Towser said. There was a gleam in his one blue eye.
"Oh, really?" said Thrissi the Luckless.
Bhed covered his eyes. "Oh, no. Not 'til I have armor again. No empty houses."
"But I've been there plenty of times," Towser said. "It's safe. Really."
"Come along, Bhed," Thrissi said. "This one is sure nothing will go wrong."
"Oh, gods, I'm going to die," said Bhed gro-Gamghaz.
