Chapter 11
It was dawn before they were finished talking to the city guards. The body and the soiled rug were taken away. The Imperial who spoke to Bhed seemed skeptical about the ghost, but given the armor Towser had been wearing, he didn't press it.
"I thought the Dark Brotherhood was some kind of big secret," Bhed said.
"Sure they are," the man said, rolling his eyes. He avoided looking directly at Bhed's face. Bhed tried to convince himself he was getting used to it. "A big secret everybody happens to know. All you have to do is walk into a bar and you'll hear someone talk about how to join up. Even I know there's a Sanctuary in Cheydinhal. I heard there's one on the coast here somewhere, too. Probably where the Nord got his marching orders."
"He said this was his initiation," Bhed said.
"Yeah?" said the guard. "You might just be lucky, then. If they'd actually got a contract on your friend the Khajiit... Well, I wouldn't be starting any long conversations, if you take my meaning."
"You know, I heard where Imperials are really glib," Bhed said dryly.
"Glib, hm? That's a pretty smart word, for an Orc," the guard said. "Lay off, I've been awake all night. Somebody took a shot at the Dremoras next door again and we've only just finished cleaning up."
"Really?" Bhed said.
"Yeah. Couple of knights went in there with big fancy claymores planning to clean out the demons, near as we could tell. They're open all night, so the door was unlocked. Guess they cut up the big guy pretty good before the girl blew them all to Oblivion. Had a hard enough time getting that out of her, too."
"I can see where you would," Bhed said.
"Un huh. Well, that's all of it. Try and keep your nose clean, Orc." The Imperial rolled up the sheet of parchment and stuck it in his belt. He tapped the last remaining guard on his shoulder on the way out. A moment later, the man finished talking to Thrissi and followed him.
"Glad that's over," Bhed said. "Guy talked more than he asked. I don't know if we're going to get any armor today, though. Apparently someone attacked the shopkeepers."
"Onesimus' word is his bond," Thrissi said. She rubbed her nose tiredly. "And his are perhaps a duplicitous people, but he is not a duplicitous being. The armor will be there. Come. This one will stay in this house no longer."
Bhed followed her willingly out of the house and down the street to the shop. The red grass beside the steps was trampled down, but it already seemed to be springing back. The door wasn't even splintered as they went inside.
Onesimus was setting things back on a shelf as the door opened. Weapons, armor, and the odd robe or pair of sandals lay scattered among the flaming spheres. None of the balls of fire seemed disarranged. Maybe it wasn't possible. The Dremora turned quickly as they came in, reaching for the weapon on his back.
"It is only Thrissi," Thrissi said.
Onesimus lowered his hand. "So it is. We have had an interesting evening, as you see."
"We heard about it from the watchmen, yes," Thrissi said. Her ears twitched. "Are you all right?"
Onesimus waved a hand. "An inconvenience only. We are not difficult to heal, and Drurinye is quite skilled in her few waking moments. She said that I should greet you. It will not be possible to rouse her for some time now."
"Greet her for this one as well," Thrissi said, looking over at the slab. Bhed glanced that way as well. The other Dremora lay with her back to them, but she seemed none the worse for wear. Her robe wasn't even torn.
"I have your armor ready," Onesimus said. Bhed looked back at him.
"How did you... Never mind."
"Indeed." Onesimus reached behind the counter and began setting things on top of it. Bhed looked at the cuirass, which was a velvety green with details picked out in specks of paler colors.
"Isn't that the same as your armor?"
"It is the Armor of the Sleepless," Thrissi said. "It is better than ebony, if you are able to bear the weight."
Bhed thought about making some comment about any amount of weight being worth it given his current lifestyle risk, but Thrissi's ears still had a tendency to flatten when she thought he wasn't looking. So what he said was, "I'll manage." While he was putting the armor on over his clothes, Onesimus dragged a warhammer out from behind the counter as well. It was along the same luminous green color scheme as Thrissi's mace. Only bigger. A lot bigger.
"That's some weapon," Bhed said. He hefted the hammer in both hands. It was definitely heavier than the steel one. He took the old hammer out of his harness before he buckled it back on over the new armor. "I don't suppose you'd want this one, by any chance?"
"Ordinarily I would not even use it to prop the door," Onesimus said. "But Drurinye said she has a use for it." He held out his hand. Bhed gave him the old hammer and hung the new one on his back. Then he attached the helmet to his belt.
"Can you walk?" Thrissi said. Bhed took a few steps. This cuirass is easily the heaviest thing I've ever worn.
"Sure," he said. "Just don't ask me to dance."
"Orcs cannot dance anyway," Thrissi said. Onesimus snorted.
"Too true," Bhed said. He hated to ask, but it had to be said. "What'll we do now?"
"This one does not know," Thrissi said. "We cannot stay in Anvil. This one would not care to encounter any more old friends."
"Yeah," Bhed said quietly. "Well, I could go to the Fighter's Guild here. Azzan's always got something."
"Fine," Thrissi said. "This one will follow you."
---
Onesimus took the hammer over to the slab after they were gone. He laid it down next to the sleeping Drurinye. "You were right," he said. "It does appear that she knows her own rede."
Drurinye did not answer. Onesimus glanced around to make sure no one could possibly be watching. Then he patted her gently on the shoulder and went back to his work.
---
An hour later, Bhed stood in front of a wooden desk in the Fighter's Guild company office. It was a large room, but the furnishings were plain. Azzan sat behind the desk, tapping his steel gauntlet on the desktop. He was a Redguard of a darkish hue, and Bhed put his age somewhere near Bhed's own. It was always harder to tell with humans.
"You're on my member list," Azzan said eventually, setting down the scroll he'd been reading. "But I don't remember seeing you."
Bhed squelched a wince. "I didn't used to look like this, Sir. It happened a couple of weeks ago. Scroll of Wasting Flame."
"That's the trouble with area effect scrolls," Azzan said, not unsympathetically. "I just about lost my hand to a Sphere of Boiling Frost one time." He shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't really help you, though. Every job on the slate is spoken for except one, and nobody in their right mind would consider that one."
"That... doesn't surprise me, Sir," Bhed said. "What is it?"
"There's a priest of Arkay named Tychicus Varen," Azzan said. "He's been looking for someone to go with him to Anga so he can perform last rites over some other priests who died there last year."
"Last year?" Bhed said. The guild head shrugged.
"The job's been bounced around between guilds a few times. He started out in Bruma, which is quite a bit closer to Anga than we are, but he hasn't found any takers so far."
"How come?" Bhed said.
"Anga's an Ayleid ruin," Azzan said. "But it's full of daedric cultists. Namira worshipers, no less. These four priests went in with nothing but torches and prayers. They evidently never came out."
"Any idea how many of them there are?" Bhed said.
Azzan shrugged. "No one knows. Probably at least a dozen. And it'll be pitch black. If they're really worshiping Namira, they'll have put out every light in the place."
"Right." Bhed rubbed the back of his neck with his new gauntlet. "Where do I find this priest?"
The Redguard stared at him. "You can't be serious. You've barely made Swordsman rank."
"See me laughing, Sir?" Bhed said.
"You look tough enough, friend, but these heretics are nasty folk," Azzan said. "It's not like hunting goblins."
"Is it worse than hunting vampires?" Bhed said.
"Nothing is, from what I hear," Azzan said. "Would that be how the incident with the fire scroll happened?"
"Yep," said Bhed.
The Redguard and the Orc looked at each other for a while. Finally Azzan said, "It's your funeral, I guess. If you make it back, it'll be worth a couple of thousand and a bump in rank. And you can keep whatever you find in the ruin, of course. The priest had to agree to that."
"Thanks," Bhed said. "I'll be in touch."
"I doubt it," said Azzan.
