I want to make a quick apology for how long it took to update...my life took several unexpected turns and I haven't had the free time or the creative mood to really write lately. Thanks for your patience, and enjoy!
Blood and Trust
Chapter 9
Colors swirled, blurry and indistinct in her vision. She blinked, watching her surroundings ooze into focus: the greenish walls of a Daedric shrine, and the idol looming overhead. Memory slid back into her mind: Assurjan had fed on her. Raema's fingers rose automatically to feel at her neck, before she remembered he had fed by touch. No mark had been left on her skin, but she still felt the effects of the spell that had drained her.
Raema sat up slowly, holding her head as a wave of dizziness hit her. She heard a rustle of clothing, and looked up to see Assurjan approaching. "How do you feel?" he asked quietly.
The dizziness subsided, and she opened her mouth to speak, felt her lips crack painfully. Wincing, she licked her lips and tried to work some moisture into her mouth. "Not especially healthy," she managed. "I'm...I'm not...?"
"A vampire?" Assurjan smiled slightly. "No, nor will you be."
She grasped the arm that he extended to her, and held back a groan. Everything hurt. "I don't suppose you have any skill at healing?"
The vampire pulled her to her feet. "My talents lie in Destruction, not Restoration," he replied regretfully. "If I were to attempt it, I would cause you more harm than good. If you are well enough to travel, we must take advantage of the darkness as much as possible. The Legion would have been unable to follow in the storm, but they will know we are moving after nightfall, and the more distance we put between us and the fortress, the better." He held out her sword, hilt towards her; she hadn't realized she was missing it. I must be even worse off than I feel, she thought, taking the sheathed blade and strapping it into place.
Assurjan headed purposefully toward the shrine's exit, moving with more drive than she had seen since his rescue. After a quick glace around the shrine, she followed, wishing she had a little of that energy back in her own body.
He held open the shrine's portal for her, a completely improper and unnecessary gesture for an Ancient to make toward someone of her station, but she was too exhausted to notice. The ash storm had finally stopped, and only stars lit the shrine's exterior, faintly revealing small drifts of ashes piled between the Daedric columns. Assurjan made for the stairs immediately, and Raema trailed behind, trying as best as she could to keep up.
He led her northward, continuing along the foyada in the same direction they had taken the day before. They had not gone far before faint shouting behind them drew them to a halt.
Raema turned to glance over her shoulder; she could see torches in the distance, bobbing up and down as their bearers ran along the floor of the shallow canyon. There were many of them, and they were coming quickly. She drew her sword with a grimace. She was in no condition for any combat.
Assurjan pushed past her, back the way they had come. "Wait here," he commanded. Torn, Raema stood with her sword in her hand, reluctant to let her master face the men alone. In the next moments, the decision was made for her as the foremost soldiers erupted into flames inside their armor, illuminating the night. They screamed horribly, flailing in anguish. Assurjan was already moving. Heedless of the flames, he snatched a sword from one's hand and waded into the rest of the search party. Raema's jaw dropped as she watched him. Surrounded by Imperial Legion soldiers, he wielded the sword with one hand and spells with the other, almost too quickly for her eyes to follow. The sword flickered back and forth, finding weak points and openings in armor, while his other hand cast a myriad of destructive spells, shock and poison and frost that flashed bright enough to make Raema squint. She raised a hand to shield her eyes, unable to tear her eyes away from the spectacle that was Assurjan in combat.
The blow that knocked her aside took her by surprise; as the ground spiraled up to meet her, she cursed herself for not paying more attention. She landed hard, but managed to keep her grip on her sword- until an iron-booted foot crushed her hand into the ground. She cried out, and a second blow from the armored boot sent her sword skittering away from her nerveless fingers. The soldier dropped to one knee beside her and clamped a hand around her throat, squeezing. Raema braced one foot on the ground and drove her other leg up, angling for his kidneys. Her knee clunked painfully against the steel plate on the back of his cuirass, and he only laughed and squeezed harder.
The edges of her vision were starting to blur red. Feeling the first hints of panic brushing at her mind, she fumbled frantically at her left boot and found her dagger. She thrust it with all her strength into the opening on the side of his armor where boot met greaves, just above his knee. He roared as his knee collapsed, putting more pressure on her throat as he leaned on his hand. Raema's chest burned with the need for air, and her vision pulsed red in time with her desperately fast heartbeat.
Abruptly, her attacker was gone. She drew in a gasping breath, coughing, and struggled to sit up. Assurjan knelt with one foot on the back of the soldier's neck, and his free hand cupped palm down against the man's skull. He still held the sword in his other hand; it glistened wetly in the light as he cast another spell. Raema squeezed her eyes shut as the light from his hand grew into a blinding flash. When darkness and silence settled around them once more, she blinked rapidly, until she could see the soldier still lying prone, and Assurjan approaching her. He knelt next to her, and gently took hold of her injured hand. She bit back a yelp as he touched it; it was swollen and throbbing painfully.
"Can you move it?" he asked quietly. An attempt to wiggle her fingers brought tears to her eyes instantly. Broken, she thought, and shook her head mutely. He let go and took her other hand, helping her to her feet again. She stood, letting her hand hang limply as he returned to the body of her attacker. The foyada was strewn with corpses killed in various ways, but she gasped as Assurjan rolled the last one over onto its back. The soldier's body was shrunken and desiccated, and his armor rattled loosely. His face inside the helmet was nothing more than parchment stretched over a skull. She had never seen anything like that, not on a man who died less than a minute ago.
"What did you do to him?" she asked hoarsely, wincing at the strain it put on her throat.
Assurjan crouched beside the desiccated body and rifled through the man's pack, pulling out a small blue vial. "I fed," he said simply.
Raema's knees felt weak. That was what she had let him do to her? He glanced up and seemed to sense her unease, but said nothing, only uncorking the vial and handing it to her.
She drank, grimacing at the taste, and felt a soothing warmth spread out from her belly as she finished. Her throat felt better instantly, and her sore muscles eased. The pain in her hand lessened, but not enough. The Legion didn't supply its members with the best potions, apparently.
"Better?" Assurjan asked. She nodded.
"Then we must continue," he said, glancing back the way they had come. "More will be coming, and they will be especially cautious when they see what has happened here."
Raema scanned the ground for her sword, and went to pick it up with her good hand. She made an awkward attempt to sheathe it wrong-handed, and gave up. It would do her little good in her left hand if she needed to use it, but she might as well carry it ready, in any case. Bracing her right elbow against her side to steady her broken hand, she followed after Assurjan.
"We need to get out of the foyada, my lord," she pointed out, as they left the scattered bodies behind them. "If we reach the Ghostgate with Legion men behind us, we'll be trapped."
"In time," the vampire replied. "I can levitate us over the cliffs, but I must find the narrowest point, to be sure we can make it over before the spell ends."
Raema didn't reply, concentrating on keeping pace with him and not tripping in the darkness. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried when the throbbing pain in her hand eased into a thick numbness. Before she had a chance to inspect it again, Assurjan halted, staring up at the cliffs beside them. "Here," he said. "I can share the spell with you, but we must be in contact. Give me your hand."
She obeyed, holding out her hand, still clenching the sword, making sure to point it away from him. He eyed it for a moment, and then took it carefully and stepped behind her to slide it into the sheath for her. "Thank you, my lord," she murmured. He gave her a small half-smile, and grasped her forearm. "Come," he said, and with a flicker of his other hand, she felt herself rise off the ground. It was a dizzying sensation, made worse by the fact that her head was already swimming.
Assurjan began to climb the air, moving as if he trod an invisible staircase. Raema followed his example, finding that her feet remained at whatever point she placed them. It was indeed like climbing stairs. After a moment, she was able to concentrate less on it, and focus on the new sensation of literally walking on air. The stars seemed to grow closer as they ascended, and the higher they went, the stronger the scent of ocean water reached her nostrils.
They reached the top of the cliffs that lined the foyada, and began their descent. Going down was harder than going up, and more than once Assurjan had to steady her as she stumbled and lost her "footing". She breathed a sigh of relief when her feet met solid earth again. The vampire let go of her arm, hovering several handspans off the ground as the effect of his spell continued.
"Where are we?" she asked quietly, following him as he glided forward, almost disappearing into the darkness.
"South of Caldera, I should think," he replied. "We should reach the lair by dawn. Can you continue?"
"I'll make it," she said through gritted teeth, cradling her hand to her chest.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The eastern sky was just beginning to lighten to gray when the entrance to the lair appeared before them. Thank the gods, Raema thought foggily. During the last few hours of the journey, it had taken all her strength to keep going. Whatever good the healing potion had done, it seemed to wear off as the night progressed, until she realized that she'd pushed herself too far. Assurjan ushered her inside, and she went gratefully, her feet dragging wearily. Inside, two vampires were standing guard at the door, as she had ordered before she left. Their eyes widened when they saw Assurjan, and they dropped to their knees immediately.
"My lord," said one, a Dunmer with a shaven head. "We welcome your return. Are you well?" Raema felt that she should know his name, but she was unable to dredge it up from her muddled brain. She wobbled, unsteady on her feet, and Assurjan glanced at her, concerned. "See that she is taken to her room, and fetch Berandise. She has some skill at healing," he ordered the Dunmer, who stepped forward to offer Raema his arm. "Summon the clan," he told the other vampire, as Raema let the dark elf lead her away. Assurjan's voice faded into the distance as they walked.
That was the last thing she remembered, before she awoke in her own room, with white-haired Berandise leaning over her. Reacting by instinct, she startled away at the sight of the vampire, before realizing where she was.
Berandise pressed her lips together in disapproval. The elderly Altmer seemed perpetually displeased whenever Raema saw her. Whether it was because she was condemned to vampirism at an age past her prime, or resentment of Raema's position in the clan, or something else, she could not tell. But the vampire only said brusquely, "Can you move your hand?"
Raema clenched and unclenched her fist, happy to see that it seemed to be healed perfectly. "Yes, thank you," she said. She felt better than she had in days; her mind was clear, her body restored. Something niggled at the back of her mind, just out of reach...
"The Ancient requires your presence as soon as possible," Berandise said shortly, and left without another word. Raema sat up and swung her feet over the side of the bed, taking better stock of herself. She was still dressed, but her sword was gone; she found it leaning against the wall in its sheath. As her fingers brushed it, memory came flooding back in a backwards rush, retracing the events that had led up to the present. Assurjan sheathing her sword for her...Assurjan feeding on her, at her own request, drinking her life and very nearly leaving her like that shriveled soldier in the foyada...Assurjan kissing her, and Raema welcoming it, dangerously close to going too far...
She sat down heavily on the bed, trying to push away that last memory. After he had fed on her, she had been too drained to think about it, too busy trying not to collapse. But now...Now what do I do? What was I thinking?
She forced herself to stand, to finish returning her sword to its place on her back. Time to worry later; right now, her master was waiting for her.
She found the audience chamber full. Assurjan stood on the dais in front, and to her surprise, Korren stood before him, singled out from the rest of the vampires that crowded the room. Assurjan met her eyes over the crowd as she entered. "Hand," he said simply, and the vampires stepped aside to let her pass.
"Korren," the Ancient said coolly, while she took her place at his side. "I have been told of your... distrust of the Hand, and my decision to place her in authority during my absence. Do you care to explain?"
The Nord shifted uneasily on his feet. "My lord, it was only that I feared for your safety. We all know she is a prisoner here; it seemed too easy for her to leave under pretense of rescuing you, and make her escape, leaving you to die. I feared she would betray you, and wanted only to prevent it."
Assurjan regarded him silently for a moment. Raema swallowed, and said reluctantly, "My lord, there is more." He turned to her, one eyebrow raised, and she told him about the other incident with Korren, when he had come to her privately. Assurjan's face darkened, and he turned back to fix an icy cold glare on the lower vampire. Korren, in turn, was staring at Raema with a hatred so intense that she shivered.
"That is very near to treason, Korren," Assurjan said softly, in that dangerous voice Raema had come to recognize so well.
Korren drew himself up, and anger made his voice hard. "Is it any worse than leaving us, endangering the entire clan while you disappear on some errand with another clan, and leaving a slave to rule in your place?"
The room had been quiet before, but as Korren's words spilled out, it went absolutely still. Raema had never heard such silence in her life- a room of undead, not breathing, not moving, only waiting in trepidation for the Ancient's response.
Unexpectedly, Assurjan smiled, a twisting of his lips that didn't reach his eyes. "I was much like you, when I was newly turned. Tell me, Korren... if I had left you in authority, would you have risked your life to save me? Or would you have left me to be destroyed, to keep power for yourself, never mind that you are not strong enough to protect Juraene from the other clans?"
The Nord vampire hesitated, perhaps seeing that he had no way out. "I always do what is best for the clan," he said defiantly.
"So do I," Assurjan said quietly. He flicked his fingers, and Korren doubled over, gasping. The vampires nearest him took a few steps away, but that was the only reaction they gave. Raema watched the clan as they watched Korren die; not one face was anything but impassive.
Korren collapsed to the ground before the Ancient. Assurjan raised his eyes, not wasting a further bit of attention on the corpse. "You are dismissed," he told the clan simply. "Talintus, dispose of that," he added, with a gesture at the body.
The vampires began to leave silently, making way for Talintus as he unceremoniously dragged Korren's body from the chamber. Raema remained at Assurjan's side, silent and thinking. Twice in one day, she had seen Assurjan use sorcery that she had never seen before. Korren had simply...dropped dead, without a hand laid on him, without any visible magic. Guilt pushed at her conscience; if she had kept her mouth shut, he might not have been executed, at least not like that...
When the room was empty but for the two of them, the Ancient made for the stairs that led to his private chamber above. "What- my lord, what spell was that?" Raema asked, following him.
"A drain of his health," he replied over his shoulder. Raema stopped dead in surprise, halfway up the stairs.
"You can do that from a distance?" She had never heard of such a thing, not to the extreme that the target died.
"Not easily, not without a significant drain on my own power. But yes."
"My lord... was it truly necessary? He didn't actually do-"
"I cannot afford to be merciful, Raema," he cut her off sharply. "We are now on the losing side of a war. Allied together, the three other clans easily can and will destroy us, given the opportunity. As it stands now, we have a slim chance of survival. If there are divided loyalties within Juraene, we are doomed. I told the truth when I said I was like him. When I challenged my Ancient, he let me live, thinking he could use me and my power, unwilling to throw away one of his creations..."
"And you started your own clan, instead," Raema finished for him, beginning to understand.
"Not by choice or desire, but yes, you are correct... and now we are at war. May the gods damn me to Oblivion thrice over if I make the same mistake he did."
The depth of feeling in his voice surprised her. Raema looked at the floor, abashed. "I apologize. I didn't realize..."
"Nor did I expect you to," he said, more gently, and changed the subject. "Did Berandise treat you well?"
"Yes, my lord." Raema flexed her healed hand again. "She is very skilled."
"I never thanked you properly for my rescue," he said, and her eyes shot up to meet his. The memory of their kiss beneath the Daedric idol resurfaced, and she found herself wanting to do it again, to feel his lips against hers with that hunger that had nothing to do with her blood. She shoved the image away.
"I only performed my duty, my lord," she said, feeling her face flush. He smiled and, perhaps sensing her discomfort, turned away.
"Yes, of course... If you feel you are recovered enough, there is a matter to which I would have you attend."
Raema groaned inwardly. She felt right as rain after Berandise's healing, but the thought of leaving the lair again so soon was not appealing. However, she said only, "I am at your service, my lord."
"Crassius Curio agreed to our terms and finalized the alliance, did he not?"
She blinked. Caught up in the chaos of the past few days, she had completely forgotten about the agreement with House Hlaalu. "Yes. He decided that staying in our favor was worth more than getting me to share his bed."
"Rather foolish of him," Assurjan remarked, with a smile. Raema felt herself blushing again. What in Vivec's name is wrong with me? The Ancient didn't seem to notice, continuing, "Curio is about to be put in a difficult position. House Hlaalu is friendly with the Imperial Legion. Obviously, in light of recent events, that is unacceptable...unless he can use his influence to secure a more sympathetic man as Master-at-Arms for Moonmoth."
Raema mulled that over. "What's going to happen to Radd Hard-Heart?"
The vampire's eyes met hers, white and emotionless. It was unsettling how quickly he could change from anger to amusement to...unreadable. "Kill him."
In truth, Raema had half been expecting to be sent on an assassination for months now. When the thought had crossed her mind on various occasions, it was only to wonder when it might happen, and what she would do when it did. Now, she thought back to the rescue on the rooftop of Fort Moonmoth, for the first time since it happened. She could see Hard-Heart standing before Assurjan, condemning her master to death. She knew she should feel compassion, at least a little bit, or reluctance- anything but the white-hot blaze of anger that filled completely filled her. She replied without hesitation.
"It will be done, my lord."
