Chapter 10

The Imperial Legionnaire Aquila swore silently. The set of Torieni's big shoulders was apologetic, but that was no good – not in a dark cave with who-knew-what down at the bottom of this narrow corridor. The torch in Torieni's hand was bad enough. I might – might – be able to make my way through here alone in the dark, Aquila thought. Not with these two. I swear if he makes one more sound I'm really going to break one of the Commands and strangle him with my bare fingers. It wasn't completely Torieni's fault that he had no leathern shoes for stealth. They weren't standard issue for anyone but a woodsman like Aquila. But the Captain had brought an extra pair on general principles, and it was Aquila's considered opinion that Torieni, if he'd been thinking at all, should have had them as well.

Aquila froze, hand on the shaft of his bow, as an Orc appeared down at the bottom of the hall. Appeared was the right word – one moment he wasn't there, and the next he was. There was no spell-glow, so he wasn't invisible. He just moved very, very quickly, Aquila recognized grimly.

Beside him, the Captain shifted forward onto the balls of his feet, though he did not yet reach for his sword. He saw it, too. The Orc already held a silver longsword in his hand. His clothes were plain leather, and he had no shield. He's not so big, for an Orc, Aquila thought. For some reason, it was not a reassuring thought. His mind kept traveling back to a set of deep footprints. Footprints spaced wide apart, for a running man.

"Who are you?" the Orc said. The sound was not particularly hostile. It worries me more that he doesn't seem too concerned that there are three of us, Aquila thought.

"I'm Captain Paulus Eutychus of the Imperial Legion," the Captain said. "We're looking for a Dremora."

"Are you, now?" the Orc said. He did not sheath the sword. "I wasn't, but I found one. You can come in or not. I'm not making any promises."

"Captain," Aquila said very quietly. "Look at his eyes." They gave back a faint blue light under Torieni's torch.

"Divines," the Captain said. "A vampire."

"Can't be," Torieni protested, also quietly. "He ran all day, remember? He'd be dust."

"We're coming in," the Captain said.

"You'll see me, and a Dremora, and an Argonian and a Human. Don't get excited and do anything stupid," the Orc said. Then he was gone as quickly as he'd appeared. You have to say this for Torieni, Aquila thought. He's not a coward. The stocky man started resolutely down the hallway the moment the Captain gave him the nod. Aquila stalked after him, trying not wince at the clang of Torieni's boots.

"Torieni," the Captain said. "We get out of here, you're getting some leathern shoes."

"Yes, sir," Torieni said feelingly.

"We shouldn't go in, Sir," Aquila said. "It's probably some kind of ambush."

"Aquila. Refer to your previous instructions."

"Shutting up now, Sir."

Torieni stepped out into the cavern first, shield upraised. His armored body blocked Aquila's view of the room beyond for a moment, then he stepped aside. "What do you know," Torieni said. "He wasn't lying."

Aquila went next, an arrow nocked to his bow but not drawn. There was a fire on the other side of the little river channel that bisected the room. He avoided looking at the blinding flame as he scanned the cavern. The Orc stood off slightly to one side, sword still drawn. A Dremora with a coat but no breastplate sat on a blanket roll near the fire. From Aquila's angle, it appeared to have a splint made from a daedric greave on its left leg. The creature watched him with a lordly sneer, just like every Dremora Aquila had ever seen.

A tall Human and a small Argonian stood very close together on the other side of the fire. The Argonian wore baggy and layered robes, but a couple of things were very clear. He said an Argonian. He didn't say a teenage girl, Aquila thought with dawning dismay. She held onto the Human's elbow with one hand, though whether seeking reassurance or providing it was not clear. There was something not quite right about the man, who swayed slightly back and forth as he watched Aquila enter the room. A sick man, or an idiot. Perhaps both, Aquila thought, looking at his clouded eyes.

The Orc's skin looks funny in this light. Greyish.

"Clear, Sir," Aquila managed. The Captain came in after him. He did not draw his sword as he looked around, but that meant nothing. I've seen him draw a sword faster than I could nock an arrow, and I'm not slow. Aquila watched him closely, but his expression was hard to read behind the nasal of his helmet.

"It seems my woodsman was right," the Captain said. "Though I can't imagine how we missed the other two sets of tracks."

Aquila quirked his lips downward and kept his mouth closed. He could almost hear Torieni grinning.

"We met them here," the Orc said. "The necromancers were holding them prisoner."

"What necromancers?" the Captain said.

"The ones I buried in that mound you saw on your way in here," the Orc said blandly. "They were keeping the girl in a cage. It's still there, back in the other room. Feel free to have a look."

"He doesn't talk like an Orc," Torieni muttered. "Except maybe that one priest who lives in - "

"I've given you my name," the Captain said. Aquila smiled to himself as he heard Torieni's teeth click together. "Why don't you give me yours?"

"You've gone to a lot of trouble tracking me all the way here, right?" the Orc said. "Maybe you already know who I am."

Aquila narrowed his eyes, studying the Orc's face. It didn't seem familiar. But the line of his shoulders was a little higher on the right, the arm a little bulkier on that side. Where a fighting man would most often hold a weapon. The scars around his eyes and nose and cheekbones were the kind you got from having your face pulped to the bone by a living fist.

"There aren't too many gray Orcs in Cyrodiil," Aquila said softly.

"No," the Captain said. "There aren't. You know," he said musingly, as if to himself. "I heard the Gray Prince turned out to be the son of a vampire? I heard he died in the Arena. You'd think they'd have buried him with a stake in his heart."

"No one seems to have thought of that," said the Orc who was evidently Agronak gro-Malog. "Since I'm only half vampire, I'm not completely sure it would have worked. A stake in the heart will kill most things, of course. But then, so will cold silver."

"I've seen you fight," the Captain said. "I won a little money on you once, back when you were twenty or so."

"The Captain always was a smart man," Torieni said from beside Aquila. "Smarter than me, anyway. I took his bet, three to one. Lost a hundred and fifty septims."

Agronak gro-Malog had not moved since Aquila first entered the room. Not a single twitch. He stood with his sword held low, apparently relaxed. But he's got his back to the fire and the light's in our eyes.

"You're looking at a little more than a hundred and fifty septims here," Agronak said.

"Mm hmm," the Captain said. "And I've got a good memory, Mr. gro-Malog. I'd just as soon not see again what I saw that day. We're not here after you. We came looking for a Dremora."

"And I'd just as soon not have to deal with three Legionnaires in heavy armor," the Gray Prince said. "What exactly did you plan to do with her?"

From the corner of his eye, Aquila saw the Argonian's head jerk sideways to stare. The Dremora did not take its gleaming eyes from the Captain. It seemed a strange thing, when Aquila came to think of it later on. She already knew.

"The late unpleasantness wasn't the kind of war where prisoners are taken," the Captain said. "We'll hand it over to the Mages' Guild. They won't treat it badly."

"How do you feel about that?" the Orc said, without turning his head. The Dremora made a sound, a harsh rumble deep in its chest. It was not a feminine sound. It wasn't even a human one. Somewhere in it was a metallic grinding, like a sword scraped across a ragged stone.

"Subtle as her communication normally is, I could be wrong," Agronak said. "But I think I correctly interpret that as meaning she would rather die. She doesn't like mages."

"She is a demon," the Captain said. "There is no one she likes. There's no one she loves. If she has any loyalties, they're to Dagon and to her own people. I don't know what she's told you, but I can see you're not an idiot. Do you really think her word is good?"

Agronak laughed quietly, a single short exhalation. "You know what the sad thing is, Captain? She keeps telling me I am an idiot, and I'm starting to believe it. But she's saved my life at least once. I've been killing people for a living for fifteen years, and I don't know anybody else in the entire world who's done that. If you want her, you'll have to kill me. And I won't go alone."

Then the Argonian girl spoke, her higher voice echoing off the walls. "This has gone on long enough. Males and your silly posturing are the whole reason why - "

Aquila was still looking at Agronak, waiting for the Orc to move. He never saw the paralysis spell coming.

Neither, unfortunately, did the Captain.

Torieni was just plain too slow.

---

"What have you done?" Agronak said, approaching the prone soldiers slowly. He could see they were still breathing, but the glow of greenish magicka had faded.

"I paralyzed them," No Claws said. She stood slightly hunched, very close to the fire. Barsabas watched her anxiously, an expression that would normally be impossible for a zombie. "And whatever you plan to do with them, you'd better do it fast, because it's only going to last five minutes. I wouldn't even have that much magicka if I hadn't used that potion I found on Araloch. My head is killing me."

"I suppose there is no point in my making the logical suggestion," LoAmai said.

Agronak snorted as he sheathed his sword. "These are Legionnaires. If they don't come back, someone will come looking for them." He prodded the Captain with his foot. "You think this man won't have told anyone where he was going? Not a chance."

"Then give me the tall one's bow and his quiver," LoAmai said. "I do not know when I will be able to summon again."

Agronak debated whether he was willing to steal from the Legion. I'm not going to kill them. I think that's about as much as they're getting from me today. "Fair enough."

Agronak removed the tracker's weapons and set them aside. Then he seized the Captain by one armored leg and arm and hoisted him up onto his shoulders. The Imperial wasn't any heavier than LoAmai in Daedric armor, but a completely limp weight is always harder to manage. The man's scabbard kept jabbing Agronak in the kidneys. "We'll put them in that hole in the other room," he said.

"Barsabas," No Claws said. The zombie ran lightly across the bridge and seized the taller of the two remaining men. Agronak, watching from the corner of his eye, was a little startled at the ease with which he lifted the paralyzed Human. But then, zombies are strong. You knew that. It's just bizarre to see one that can actually run without staggering.

Speaking of which. Agronak turned and ran across the bridge and into the other room. He set the Captain down outside the secret room and went inside to carefully lift the wine rack. None of the bottles fell out as he moved it outside and set it on the cavern floor. This way they ought to all fit. None of the three Legionnaires was unusually tall for their short, broad race, though the tracker was taller than the other two. All of them were bigger in their armor. And I don't have time to get it off them.

He dragged the Captain inside and propped him against one wall. The man's head sagged onto one shoulder, green eyes watching without expression from under his helmet. Agronak turned to see Barsabas outside the door.

"Put him next to the other one," Agronak said, and ran to get the third man. He returned to find the zombie still outside the door, swaying slightly as he watched the frozen Legionnaires. Agronak deposited the third man, backed out of the hole, and pressed the catch. The door swung shut, trapping the Imperials inside in the dark.

"Thank you," he said to Barsabas.

"You're welcome," the dead man said with startling clarity. Then he stiffened, turning toward the other room. "No Claws?" he said. A yellow aura sprang up around him, and he dissolved into a shower of sparks.

Agronak ran back into the other cavern. LoAmai was almost lying on her side, leaning far over as she dragged No Claws out of the edge of the firepit. Agronak darted forward, slid to his knees, and beat out the corner of the Argonian's robe that had caught fire. The smell of burnt cloth was choking, even in the open cavern.

"What happened?" Agronak said. LoAmai surveyed the unconscious Argonian with studied disinterest.

"She collapsed," she said. "I assume it is too much to hope for that she is dead?"

"If you wanted her dead, why'd you pull her out of the fire?" Agronak said. He moved No Claws over onto a bedroll. She did not seem to have been burned, but she didn't stir, either.

"I am your debtsworn," the Dremora said, as one stating the obvious. "You want her alive, do you not? Or have you changed your mind?"

"I have not changed my mind," Agronak said severely. LoAmai grinned, white teeth in her darkly mottled face.

"Perhaps she is a useful krynvelhat to know. You would have had to kill the soldiers otherwise."

"I notice you don't seem to have any problem with that reasoning," Agronak said.

"As you said, others would look for them." The Dremora examined her yellow nails with annoyance. The ends were scorched, but her hand seemed unharmed. "Whatever your inclination may be, I wish to live. It seems unlikely, given that neither I nor the Argonian can presently leave this cavern."

"She shouldn't have taken that potion," Agronak said. "Some of that swill will boost your magicka and drain the life out of you. I've seen it happen in the Arena." He stood up, looking around the cavern for inspiration. LoAmai's right. We can't stay here, or we're in the same position as if we'd killed those three. Besides, they'll find the catch on the inside of that door, even in the dark. Especially the tracker-man, unless I miss my guess. "Divines," Agronak muttered. "If the zombie were still here, he could carry her, but he disappeared when she passed out. I could carry you both, but I'd be slow, and being slung like a flour sack wouldn't do your leg any good either."

"I agree," LoAmai said.

"That's very helpful," Agronak muttered. "I doubt I could outrun a good horse on my b - " He stopped. "Of course. They didn't come here on foot, they can't have. I'll be right back." He jogged across the bridge and up the cavern hall to the door. It was slightly open, letting dim gray light in. It was raining outside. Agronak listened carefully before he stuck his head out.

Three horses stood under a tree not ten yards away. None of them were armored, possibly because the Legionnaires had wanted them at top speed. All three were glossy black. Agronak knew about as much about horses as he did about woodcraft, but everyone knew you couldn't beat the Legion's black horses for speed. And if they can carry a human in heavy armor, they can carry me easily. Assuming I can get more than a few yards without falling off.

"That'll be the problem, yes," muttered Agronak. Maybe I can make some sort of litter from the tables down below and run next to them, instead.

"Good news," he said as he reentered the cavern. "In addition to being a traitor and a fugitive, I'm about to become a horse thief." He snagged the bow and quiver on his way past them and dropped them in LoAmai's lap. She inspected the bow critically as she said,

"A thief of what?"

"Horses," Agronak said. "You've seen them. There were some dead ones on that battlefield. They're as tall as I am and they have four hooves and a tail."

"I will not be able to ride one," LoAmai said. She strapped the quiver on over her coat, then tightened the strap.

"That makes two of us," Agronak said. "Don't worry. I have a plan. I don't have the faintest idea where we'll go from here, though."

The Dremora watched him cross the cavern toward the tables. "I will be interested to find out," she said.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," said Agronak gro-Malog.