Chapter 10: A Tale of Two Kitties (Part 3)
This one can still not get over how that worked! We must have passed by several guards and Jah'ishir tribe members...This was perhaps truly the only way Khinashi could have ever managed to sneak in past all of them. Hiding inside a Senche-raht's mouth, whether madness or genius, it worked.
Zan'ir will have gone back his normal feelings, thoughts and emotions by now, but that is not of any immediate worry. He did not forget our previous encounter, but he will not remember it unless something reminds him. He will be too busy eating at dinner now anyway, along with the rest of the family, except La'zanja.
It is perhaps a stroke of luck that La'zanja prefers to eat alone, it gives Khinashi a perfect chance to go and speak to her, but, if what this one has already witnessed several times already is any indication, then she does not like to be disturbed. If this one does not go about this right, she would simply dismiss this one, or some other prank which would end in bodily harm, but in the process ruining Khinashi's only remaining chance at convincing her.
The only problem now is that the room Khinashi chose to hide in was a closet containing spare clothes for the family cooks.
This one will just have to work with it.
Khinashi pulls up the floppy, impractical white hat cooks always seem to wear and walks through the swinging door to the pantry, and sees a multitude of other servants and an angry looking Breton cook cleaning off his face.
"Are you the new cook? They replaced me that quickly?" The Breton nearly shouts, his cheeks brimming with anger.
This one hung her mouth open, thinking of how to respond.
"Well if you aren't, you are now. If they haven't already fired me, I quit! That child is unreasonable!I've been cooking masterpieces for 40 years! 40! I've served Nobles, Kings, Counts all over Tamriel, from High Rock to Black Marsh, and even Alinor, and she dismisses my artwork as some beggar's meal? She threw it in my face!"
Khinashi still stood there, afraid of how to respond, lest he go completely mad.
The Breton swung his arms up, clearly considering whether or not to say something further about his patron. Eventually he shook his head and walked toward the door.
"Well, I'd wish you luck, but you'll need more than that if you're going to cook for her. I can see now why this family has gone through several chefs, and I've only been here a week! Not anymore. No. Do me a favour and throw a bowl of hot stew in her face, see how she likes it. She's expecting a 'proper' meal in a few minutes. Pbbth."
The Breton shakes his head some more and walks out of the door. This one looks over to the servants about the room, but upon eye contact they all turn away, clearly wishing to not be involved.
Well, that was surprisingly simple. Not one of them questioned her presence here and merely assumed her to be a new cook.
But if not even a chef who has cooked for over 40 years professionally could please her high-class tastes...how on Nirni is this one, whom has only cooked food for her family in Torval only occasionally going to do any better? If she is expecting food, it would be a simple matter to use that as a chance to speak to her, but if she does not like it, it will likely end up in this one's face, and she would never listen to anything Khinashi has to say. Even if she does like it, she probably still would not listen, yet there is no other option Khinashi can think of to try.
Khinashi sighs as she rests her hand on a table with a bunch of ingredients and special recipes. She hardly recognizes most of them, and the recipes do not seem very straight-forward either, requiring knowledge of cooking far beyond that of her skill to even begin to follow. This one doubts asking anyone here would be a good idea – if she cannot even follow a simple recipe they may see through her ruse and report her to the family.
This one knocks her head on the table in frustration, and an egg threatens to roll off. Khinashi catches it before it hits the ground and suddenly thinks to herself. It has been awhile since she has eaten at all, perhaps she could make some simple food for herself in the meantime. It could give her inspiration, and if this one is doomed to fail anyway, it would not hurt to have a good meal before inevitably being thrown into jail. Khinashi's time at the Torval jail taught this one they do not feed criminals well.
"That is an awful, terrible idea Snorepaws, can you not think of something less...Fiery?"
"What? Nothing says 'distraction' like a big fire."
"Nothing says 'dangerous' like one either."
"I can think of a few things more dangerous distractions actually, but we don't have access to hallucinogenic drugs and a water supply big enough to sustain it. Unfortunate really, that was my first idea. It worked quite well back in Wayrest."
"Alright, fine. This one supposes it could be worse, it will not cause too much destruction if they put it out quickly, right?"
"Huh? Oh...right, sure I guess."
Ma'ketra sighs and looks around.
"So where do you intend to create this 'distraction' hmm? Or have you not decided yet?"
"Oh, so many places to choose from...but I'm sure you'd prefer it not be someone's residence, so yes, I remember seeing an old warehouse in the northwest part of town as we were sight-seeing. It looks abandoned, and it's big enough to get everyone's attention."
"Are you sure it is abandoned and not just a storehouse for extremely important supplies for the city?"
"Same thing, and if it is, that would grab their attention even more! You said they'd put the fire out quickly anyway..."
"That was actually a question, but okay."
"There it is, just up ahead."
I look up as we approach the old warehouse ahead of us, and cast a detect life spell to make sure it's vacant of inhabitants- and it is, save for the few rodents that you would expect in any worn-down building. They say that animals can detect when a fire is about to start and get out in time. That would be a useful ability to have, but I think I prefer the sapience and magical prowess that comes from being an Alfiq Khajiit rather than the ordinary housecat I so often get mistaken for outside of Elsweyr.
Ma'ketra nudges her her head against the door, but is met with resistance.
"It is locked." Ma'ketra explains, although she didn't need to, it was quite obvious by the chains and locks all over.
"Do you think you could smash a hole through the door?"
Ma'ketra snorts a laugh.
"Ma'krin probably could easily, with his thick skull. This one might be able to, but it would likely daze her, and be so loud as to announce our presence to the guards. Unless you think you could move this one away to safety after starting the fire, it is perhaps not a good idea."
"I think I'd have better luck moving a mountain, although maybe that's a bit redundant."
"What? Is the Snorepaws so weak?"
"I'll have you know I can lift three times my weight without magic! That's more than any Cathay-raht can say with honesty."
"Ma'ketra is afraid it does not work like that."
Jokes aside, I did a quick scan around the warehouse for any other possible entrances. No other doors, only high windows, with no means of access. Far, far too high to jump, and the walls aren't fit for an Alfiq to climb, but a Dagi maybe.
"I somehow doubt Dagi would want to help us with burning down a warehouse in his hometown. I'm out of ideas. The windows are the only other entrance, but there's no way for me to reach one."
"Perhaps you could politely ask a walker to throw you up there and hope they don't miss, hmm?"
Ma'ketra's suggestion was obviously jocular, but the concept itself could actually work. No one would help us, but if I could...
"Snorepaws, you know this one was just kidding, right?" Ma'ketra signs, perhaps after noticing me being lost in thought. I look around for anything that could help us achieve such a stunt, and everything falls into place.
"No, that could work. Not thrown- but launched, like a catapult-"
"Ma'ketra does not think there are any catapults here-"
"We could use a long plank from that stack over there, set it up on that large rock...Then you could use your burly self to launch me at the window. It could work!"
"Surely you are not serious? Do you realize how dangerous-"
Ma'ketra stops and thinks for a moment, and shakes her head, realizing that was an obvious question.
"One of these days Snorepaws your schemes will see to the end of one or both of us."
"But not today."
"We shall see."
Ma'ketra walks over and picks up the plank with her teeth, dragging it to the nearby rock that will be used for our stunt. I perch myself onto one end of the plank as she sets it down, preparing myself for launch. Ma'ketra gives me a dumb look.
"Do you not at least think it would be a good idea to test it first, and make sure it works, before sending you off to your doom?"
"If we do, someone might notice what we're up to if we miss and hit it with a rock. If we're quick they won't know what hit them."
"This one is not sure if you are talking about the townspeople or the warehouse, or yourself."
"I trust your aim."
"You may, but Ma'ketra is not quite as confident...But you will not back down, so..."
I retract my claws and roll my shoulders, waiting for Ma'ketra to finish her sentence. Then suddenly I'm launched into the air without notice and only just then have doubts as to if that was a good idea.
I wildly flay my limbs as I shoot forth toward my destination. Yet, as I met level with it, I kept rising, and rising until nearly reaching the height of the roof, and slamming into the wall.
I stabbed my claws into the side of the building to stick, and took a glance below. The window was a few feet beneath me, but many more below that was the ground, an assured death sentence if I ever saw one.
Ma'ketra came up close to the side, perhaps to try and catch me if I fall, not that it would do any good at that point.
My claws started losing their grip, and I found myself sliding down along the warehouse. When I reached the top of the window frame I retracted my back feet claws and swung myself in to the warehouse. Luckily I happened to land on the edge of a tall wooden scaffolding, but my weight threw its balance off and I tumbled to the ground, the structure with me. The fall didn't hurt, but the adrenaline from the stunt took some time to wear down, and I looked like a puffball for a few seconds.
Ma'ketra growled and scratched at the front door. I mewed back, indicating that I survived. It's a shame we can't actually speak, or I would have made a comment on her terrible aim.
Yet, the sound from the scaffolding falling may have been heard, so I waste no time in setting the place ablaze. I walk along a section with nearby wood and hay spread throughout the floor. Perhaps it could have been a barn once. Strange. My front feet glow red hot as the flame spreads from my spell beneath me, and no sooner does a fire begin to erupt. I repeat the process on several other surfaces until it's quite certain that it will spread throughout the entirety.
I sniff the air and smell the delightful scent of fire and decide my work is done. Then I glance back up to my escape route and realize, with the scaffolding having fallen over, there is no longer any means of reaching it.
I quickly scan the other walls of the warehouse for any other windows I could escape from, but by now, all were either out of reach to begin with or no longer accessible due to the walls of flame. I consider frost spells, but remember I have no real means of using them like Khinashi can.
I look to the front door, but remember it was locked from the other side with chains. Not a simple mechanism, not one I could use anyway.
And then the panic sets in.
Ma'ketra roars again, and I mew back, regretting more than ever now that I can't use illusion spells to speak yet.
I try it again anyway, but as per usual, all that comes out is a mix of a meow, a squeal, and a roar, with no structure for words to be spoken at all.
Ma'ketra roars back, louder this time. She'll understand eventually, but by then it may be too late. I look back to see the spread of the flames, and if it looked unlikely to be able to escape before, it was impossible now. The guards would soon smell the fire and would be here, but long after I would be roasted, not to mention they would likely – correctly - assume me as the arsonist anyway. At best I'd be in jail then, at worst they could just kill me then and there. If Ma'ketra leaves me behind she may be able to save herself from the guards, but would she do that?
I scratch at the door and try one more time to help her realize I'm trapped.
A few moments pass with no response, perhaps she did decide to run and save herself.
I curl up as the flames approach. I don't blame her for running, there would be no use in getting us both killed if that could be avoided, and she always was the fearful, over-cautious one. Maybe I should have taken some of her advice. I try to think on what Ma'ketra was trying to tell me in my last few, unbearably hot, moments. Not these past few hours, not today, but since we met.
At least, until a loud crash rudely tears interrupts my thoughts and a hole appears in the door. At first I assume the guards are here, but instead I see Ma'ketra's large head sticking out of the hole. I glance to the fire, seeing it mere feet away now and jump through the hole in the door, looking for a place to hide. In the distance I see a group of guards running toward us, not long before they get here. I start off in a direction away, looking back to make sure Ma'ketra is behind me, but realize she was serious about how smashing the door would daze her. She doesn't move.
I glance to Ma'ketra, to the guards, and to my escape route, and consider my options.
But then there was only ever really one.
I jump back through the hole and try nudging her uselessly with my head. Just in case it worked. With that confirmed I focus my mind on the task of moving the large Senche before me with alteration. I've only just learned to control it not more than a week ago, but I've always been able to use the spell for years, if only accidentally. The heaviest thing I'd lifted since are buckets of water or things of similar weight, and even that puts a strain on me and wears me out, but I can't just leave her here.
My head aches from the stress of focusing so hard and my body goes numb, but slowly, and ever surely, Ma'ketra slides across the ground. At first just enough to be out of the warehouse, then out of distance from the encroaching flames, but no more than that can my mind handle, and I myself collapse from exhaustion. My final image before falling unconscious is a group of understandably angry guards approaching us, with swords drawn.
Khinashi approaches with a meek smile plastered on her face, while inside every inch of her body is frozen with dread. La'zanja has not yet taken notice of her, or if she has, has not yet felt the need to indicate this. Khinashi is awaiting the signal that confirms her failure- there truly is no other conclusion, and that truth helps her prepare for the inevitable, and yet it does not erase her fear.
La'zanja looks up for a moment, and then returns to licking her paws and arms to clean her fur. What La'zanja expects is clearly too much, she did not even give this one enough time to even try making a suitable meal, at least she does not seem all too surprised of there being a different cook serving her now.
All this one has for her is the few treats Khinashi had made for herself to eat, something to pass the time, to practice, perhaps inspire her cooking arts, and feed her own hunger. Just as she was about to eat them she got the call to bring the new meal to La'zanja. Could even a master chef make something good in that short amount of time?
The smile is becoming straining to hold, and now this one no longer cares to uphold it. Smile or not she will be sent away, and so Khinashi stands, looking bored at the Suthay noble before her. It is true, La'zanja does look much like this one in many ways. In the dark, we may even be identical, save for height and of course this one's missing tooth. Looking at La'zanja is like looking at a slightly older version of herself, one who chose a different path in life, born to different parents. Is this truly what Khinashi could have been like? The thought sends shivers down her spine.
"What is this?" La'zanja says at last, with an unmistakable tone of anger. Here it comes. She has finished her grooming and decided to take notice of Khinashi's existence. This one was beginning to wonder if she would actually wait to yell at her until after actually tasting it.
Khinashi opened her mouth, at first she was about to apologize, but then stopped. This one is in no way sorry, and if whatever she says here matters not, and the conclusion will be the same anyway, then Khinashi will make the most of it and speak her true feelings. This one is done with trying to appease people whom cannot be appeased.
"They are sweetrolls, La'zanja. More importantly it is your dinner, whether you like it or not." This one says with gleaming eyes. La'zanja looks surprised at her words for a moment, but then returns the dark stare.
"And what if La'zanja does not like it?"
"Then you will starve for the night unless you decide to cook for yourself, but cooking is beneath you, no? Of course it is."
La'zanja gives no response aside from the same dark stare we share. She snatches the plate of snacks from Khinashi's hands and examines it, lifting up one of the sweetrolls and inspecting it.
And then she threw it.
This one had suspected she would and merely lifted her hand in time to catch it before it hit her. In the few moments La'zanja was surprised, Khinashi shoved the sugary, bread-treat all across her face.
With that finished, this one took a step back, watching as the noble Suthay came to terms with what had happened, standing there blinking in shock, with her mouth hanging open.
"What...You...This one could have you fired for that! Sent to jail for what you have done!" La'zanja says with her voice breaking from confusion.
"Yes." Khinashi merely says.
"Why?"
"Because this one is not afraid of you, La'zanja. Send this one to jail, do it, you coward. You know you were just planning how to ruin this one's day when she came in, how to insult her and make her regret coming here, admit it."
"Yes." La'zanja replies, in a tone that claimed agreement and sudden understanding. That is strange, Khinashi expected her to insult her, deny it or call the guards.
"Well...This one will not wait for you to send her away or call the guards, because in truth this one does not care what you have to say, so she will take her own leave."
This one turns around and walks toward the door.
"Wait!"
Khinashi does not stop.
"La'zanja is sorry, you are right. Please, stay for a moment."
This one is not sure her ears heard correctly, but, to entertain the thought that she truly did just hear the words "La'zanja is sorry" coming from the noble's mouth, Khinashi stopped and turned around. It looked like the La'zanja she had just seen moments ago was replaced with someone else, or maybe the sweetroll smeared over her face made her look less condescending.
"What?" This one asks, impatiently.
"La'zanja apologizes for her earlier behavior. This one merely thought you were like the other chefs and servants La'zanja's parents send her way. They wear masks over their faces- pretending to be happy, pretending to respect La'zanja, and are too afraid to speak the truth of their thoughts. This one hates liars."
"And this one hates those who assume things of those they do not yet know."
"True. It is just, no one has ever said anything like that to La'zanja before. You are brave, for this one truly could have sent you to the guards and to jail."
"So you are not going to, then?"
"No. La'zanja would like to know more of the one who is not afraid to speak their mind. Let us talk."
Jahirr looks at this one inquisitively as Dagi descends the wall, asking if he succeeded. Dagi pulls out an old, woven doll depicting a Cathay girl with the name "Ma'isha" on holds it near him. Jahirr sniffs it for a few moments, taking in the scent that surrounds it, and begins his search as we leave the alleyways.
A warehouse caught fire not long ago, and so most of the town members and guards are away, which gives us a window of opportunity to do this. Even Clan Mother Kishari was away to investigate, and so it was a simple matter to slip in and find an item that belonged to her apprentice and adopted daughter Ma'isha. This one is not sure if that is who the hostage is, but Dagi has not seen her at all since we have arrived in Corinthe, and if they were as close as he remembers, then it would make most sense. It is our only lead, regardless, and so we must take it.
But Dagi wonders if his first instincts are to be relied upon anymore. Jahirr clearly was not in agreement to how he handled the assassins earlier in the alleyways. Dagi could have killed them then, without arousing alarm – no one would have been able to see it. He had a vantage point, a simple matter to fire a few arrows...But this one felt if we followed them, they could lead us to the hostage. It was a gamble, and one that Dagi lost.
When they slipped away into one of the skooma dens, killing them was no longer an option. Too many witnesses, and they would not understand the circumstances. The hostage was not there, and Dagi was only just able to procure items from their persons to be able to track them later.
It is clear they intend to incite the riot by masquerading as members of both tribes, perhaps then publicly killing an opposing tribe member before slipping away, but there also appears to be a third, unknown step...What could that be? Dagi has overheard townsfolk talk of the reforming of the Renrija Krin and their renewed goals of liberating Leyawiin from the Empire. According to information Smallpaws had gathered, the ones helping Dazlah are a part of this organization. They seem to be making use of the absence of the moons to promote their goals, but also to incite unrest between the townsfolk and authority. Is this merely an extension of their aid to Dazlah in killing us, or is it a part of something deeper?
Whatever the case, it is out of our ability to convince the townsfolk of the Renrija Krin's involvement in trying to start a riot, so Dagi can only focus on removing the assassins from the equation and hope the damage they have already done will be tempered enough by the other's efforts to prevent the riot.
This one hopes they have had more success than Dagi has so far, or it is not looking good for Corinthe... It is getting late in the afternoon now, soon evening will come, and with that the Clan Mother's announcement, and the moment in which we discover if we succeed or fail.
Dagi looks up to see where Jahirr has been leading us, and takes note that we are leaving the plateau of Corinthe.
"Jahirr, you are sure you smell Ma'isha this far away?"
Jahirr nods without turning his head around and continues walking toward his destination. Many camps are set up nearby. This one feels a bit uneasy about walking out in the open, people will be returning to their camps soon from the city, they could recognize us. Would they really have hid the hostage this far away?
Eventually it becomes clear where Jahirr detects the scent. The only building for some distance, an old abandoned farmhouse much like the one that caught fire in the city. Dagi remembers they used to belong to an old Imperial farmer whom sought to ply his trade in lands that were not accustomed to the animals he raised. He could undercut the prices of imports, and had a monopoly of that market. Yet he eventually discovered why exactly those animals are so rare to find here in Elsweyr...Now only the farmhouses remain, and it appears it is where Ma'isha is being held.
This one leaps off of Jahirr's back and approaches the door. If Dagi were not certain before that this is where the hostage is, it is clear now. The chains and locks that were around the handles have been broken, hanging there uselessly. Yet the door is still locked – it must be boarded from the inside.
Dagi scans around for other entrances and sees some open windows, far too high to jump, but not to climb for him. It is strange why climbing anywhere other than the Tenmar forest has no effect on Dagi's mind. Obviously it is because of Mother's fate, but yet, that fate does not only happen among Tenmar trees.
"Wait here a moment, Jahirr. Dagi will open it from the other side."
Jahirr looks as if he is trying to tell this one something, but Dagi cannot understand his sign language. He grunts and walks by the door in defeat. Hopefully it was not too important.
Dagi climbs up the wall in seconds and crawls inside. This one had not seen the interior of this place before, it is strange architecture, and foreboding in some ways, were the animals restrained to such small areas?
As this one looks further, he sighs of relief as he looks to the ground floor. Ma'isha is tied to a support beam at the back, no doubt she notices him by now, but would she recognize Dagi? This one is not sure what he would prefer.
Dagi leaps down from the top level to the ground and unlocks the door. The light from outside takes some time for Dagi's eyes to adjust. Without further hesitation he runs over to Ma'isha and helps untie her from the post, and for a moment, an ominous feeling falls over Dagi, as if he had forgotten something.
As the last of the ropes fall, Dagi unfastens the gag preventing her from speaking, and the first words out of her mouth are "Watch out!"
Confused, Dagi looks around, and then up- just in time to see a falling Cathay with his blade drawn, but not in time to move out of the way. Dagi feels his body being pushed back as Ma'isha tackles him to the ground. As he rolls up to grab his bow, the Cathay lunges toward him with great strength and speed, but before he does, Jahirr jumps out from the shadows behind and bites into his leg, stopping his movement.
It is clear now what Jahirr intends, and so Dagi complies this time, and pulls back the strings of his bow as the Cathay strains against the might of Jahirr. At nearly point blank, the arrow strikes through the Cathay's throat and ends his life instantly.
Dagi curses to himself. He should have realized they would keep someone here to watch over her in case someone came to rescue her. Why would they not? The boarded door – from the inside, was proof that someone was here. It can only be locked from the inside, and it is not as if a bound hostage could lock the door.
Sometimes this one wonders if he had learned anything from Mother's teaching, if he can still make such silly mistakes. Were it not for both Ma'isha, the one whom he was rescuing in the first place, and Jahirr, that mistake would have been fatal. It should have been fatal- why did the assassin not strike until only after Ma'isha shouted?
This one would have had no warning to move, he could have killed Dagi easily. Perhaps he, too, wished to wait, in case Dagi let slip any information that could help him find the others? The same mistake this one made earlier, only this time it did cost this would-be assassin's life.
"Thanks for saving me." Ma'isha says, interrupting Dagi's thoughts.
"Same to you. This one should have known..."
"Do not worry about it, he is dead now." Ma'isha says with noticeable scorn, looking over to the fallen body of the Renrija Krin assassin.
"Did Mother-er, Kishari send you to find Ma'isha-Is she okay?"
"She is fine, as far as this one knows, but no, she did not send him, at least, not exactly."
"Then who did? And who are you? Wait...Your fur..."
Dagi turned around and pulled the cowl back over his head.
"This one is Dagi. That is what he goes by now. He does not go by other names anymore."
"Ma'isha heard about what happened to your father...She is sorry."
"What you have heard is a lie!"
"What? What do you mean?"
"The ones whom held you hostage are the ones who killed him, or are at least working with him. He did not die the way you would have heard."
"Is that why you're here then? To avenge him?"
This one felt offended by her words, at first, but did not show it on his face. She did not mean to offend him.
"This one is not sure if he would be lying if he said no, but...If it is, then it is not the only reason. Vengeance is a dangerous thing, Mother always told Dagi. 'To hunt another's life because one was lost, is to throw your own away', an old phrase she said, but...it is tempting. "
"Do not worry, vengeance or not, we have to stop them, they're planning to start a-"
"Riot yes, it could kill many. What else did you overhear? This one is curious. Do you know why they are doing this?" Dagi interrupts. It is best to get to the point in these circumstances.
"Well, no. They seem to be looking for someone though...Oh. Ma'isha sees now...but then why are you here if they are looking for you?"
"Dagi is not the only one they are looking for. What have you heard of the events at Torval recently?"
"Not much, Ma'isha only knows that some people tried to kill the Mane but failed, and then escaped, and that we were to be on look out in-case...Wait, you do not mean to say that you are one of them...You cannot be. You would not do that! Would you?"
"What if this one were to tell you that the Mane was killed?"
"But they said he survived! His brother was killed, and a couple of the assassins! You are not making any sense."
"The Mane is dead- Ra-Zara'chi is posing as his twin brother. The assassins that were killed were not assassins, they were trying to protect him. The ones who escaped are the only ones who know the truth, and that is why Ra-Zara'chi sent these assassins here to find us in Corinthe, after they found out this was where we were heading."
Ma'isha stood there for a moment, staring in shock as she tries to accept that the spiritual leader of the land is an imposter and everything she heard of the event is a lie.
"And now with the wanted posters..."
"Most would kill us on the spot if they knew who we were, but none would believe us. Why would they believe some children they never heard of over the long-standing and well-respected Mane?"
"This one believes you. Were it not you, and were it not for this...situation, perhaps that would not be the case, but it is as clear as the twin moons in an open sky now. We have to tell the others, they will believe Ma'isha!"
"Soon, yes, but not yet. There are still more assassins about, and if they know you have escaped, that could put both you and your mother at risk. There is also the riot they intend to incite..."
"But why? If they are here for you and your friends, why start the riot?"
"They seem to think it could kill us indirectly, but now this one thinks it may have a further objective, a sort of 'kill two birds with one stone' thing, and a lot of cats, yet it is only speculation. Killing us may not be their only goal here, at least for the Renrija Krin."
"What do you think they are planning?"
"Dagi does not know, and he would rather not guess for fear he is wrong."
"So what will you do?"
"Jahirr here can take you far away, some place safe for now, until everything is over. When he returns, Dagi will look for the other assassins and try to kill them before they can start the riot."
"Then Ma'isha wishes you luck...And, Dagi? If that is what you wish to be called."
"Yes?"
"If you feel the need, they put him next to your Mother in the graveyard just the other day. They put the greatest care and detail into the stonework."
"That is surprising, considering the circumstances."
"Things may not be so happy here, but they remember him, and still praise and respect him and your Mother."
"Thank you."
"So this is a 'Sweet roll', you called it?" La'zanja says, who by now actually seems to be quite enjoying what this one made after all.
"Yes, you have never had one before? Surely you have at least heard of it."
"Heard of it, yes, but our chefs have never made it for this one before."
"Well, it is more of a snack really, a simple treat, nothing special."
"Yet you chose to make it for a noble's daughter?"
"Actually, this one was making it for herself, she had not eaten in awhile and was making that while working on what she was planning to give you, before you called her up."
"Ah...La'zanja is sorry about that. Here, you can have this then, she is not sure she would have eaten that one anyway."
La'zanja hands me the smashed Sweetroll Khinashi had smeared in her face. This one examined it for a few moments, considering if she should actually eat it now that it was all smashed, but then decided to anyway, for her hunger demanded it. It is the thought that counts, and even though La'zanja has become more tolerable, this is still probably the extent of her generosity.
"Thanks."
"Perhaps more of our chefs should choose to make simple foods, La'zanja has never liked the fanciful meals her family eats down below, but she likes this."
"It is all a matter of preference."
For all her earlier rudeness, it is interesting to see that La'zanja is not like other nobles she has met. She does not seek fame, she does not want to rule, she prefers harsh honesty over fake respect, and now it seems she even prefers simple food.
This one has actually managed to not lie about anything yet upon her questions, except for her name being 'Ma'nashi' instead of 'Khinashi', but her luck could run out eventually. This one would prefer not to have to lie anymore, but the full truth would get this one in jail, at least, until things are cleared up.
It would be best if this one could move the conversation back to La'zanja and Ja'skar, but when she had mentioned how their planned marriage had ended, she did not seem happy to talk about it. It may be best to wait still some more before bringing that back up, but what else could Khinashi talk about that would be helpful?
Hmm, perhaps she could know more about Dar'nari? The name of the one who this one overheard earlier from Dazlah. He seemed to not want her to know he was here, at risk of death. That would suggest that Dar'nari is usually here, so maybe she could know about her, or have at least heard of her.
"Would you happen to know anything about someone named "Dar'nari" by any chance? Ma'nashi had overheard that name earlier in connection to Corinthe."
"Why? Are they a friend of yours?"
"No, but this one heard something about her that intrigued Ma'nashi."
"Hmm...Dar'nari" La'zanja says, seeming to think if the name recalls any memories. The fact it did not immediately was not a good sign.
"This one cannot say she knows or heard of any Dar'nari-"
"Ah, that is a shame."
"But this one heard of someone by a similar name, perhaps it is the person you speak of, perhaps not. Were they once known as Ja'nari?"
"Ma'nashi is not sure. Perhaps? Ja' is a common honorific for those of youth. Does Ja'nari live here in Corinthe?"
"No, but she once did many years ago."
"Ah, this one sees..." If they are no longer here, then it is unlikely that they are the same person, Dazlah seemed to think of her as close by.
"Ja'nari and a friend of hers went missing long ago, and were assumed dead, but there was a rumor that they actually left to join the Dark Brotherhood."
The Dark Brotherhood...
This one has heard of that name before, she read it in a book. The Dark Brotherhood is a group of elite assassins who murder people if they are called upon by the Night Mother. If someone wants another dead enough, they can perform a ritual that will call the Night Mother and send their request to the Dark Brotherhood, who then carry out that task in exchange for payment. A scary thought, to think someone could simply wish someone dead in the confines of their isolation, and they could actually get their wish. Yet, all of what this one heard suggests they keep their presence and identity a secret to all.
"How do you know she joined the Dark Brotherhood?"
"Well, this one did not say she knows, only that it was a rumor, but that rumor came from La'zanja's aunt."
"How did she know?"
"Because she was once a Dark Brotherhood assassin herself."
This one's eyes widened at the fact. Not just to know that La'zanja's aunt was a Dark Brotherhood assassin, but that she would reveal that so readily to someone she does not know well.
"You are surprised." La'zanja notes.
"Yes. How is it that you say that so easily? Does that not put your aunt in danger? Would that revelation not reflect badly on your family if it were known?"
"Well, aunt Khazi is no longer among the living for one. Others of my family would agree with you, in that it puts shame on our family, to that extent they have sought to hide it, and deny it. That does not change the truth, and this one does not like to lie."
"Still, perhaps not lie, but just not tell just everyone."
"You will not tell everyone of that, will you?"
"No, but-"
"Well there you go. Besides, she was not always an assassin, she left them after she found her mate. Apparently her contract was to kill him, but she had become too distracted perched outside his window when he was playing a song. When the bard had noticed her she lost her balance from the shock and nearly fell to her death, but the bard had caught her hand and, despite the obviousness of the circumstances, decided to help her. Because he had saved her life, she decided to spare his, but the Dark Brotherhood would never have allowed that, so they faked his death and she left the Brotherhood. They returned to Corinthe, fell in love, married and had a child, and united our tribes. Then she died, the bard and his son left, and then the tribes hated each other again."
"They united the Khajepako and Jahi'shir tribes?" This one asks, seeing that as an important piece of information to know.
"Ah yes, the bard was the brother of the current Khajepako chieftain. His name was Kherim. He did not live in Corinthe with the rest of his tribe until he and Khazi met outside of it however, but he was still respected as the Chieftain's brother. The tribes did not look kindly on their union at first but in the end it brought us close. Well, for almost two decades anyway. When Khazi died and and Kherim and Ma'jizad left, people learned of Khazi's old involvement with the Dark Brotherhood and not everyone liked that. It was the lies La'zanja's family sprouted to deny the fact and point the blame on someone else that brought upon the schism that divided us."
"How did Khazi die?"
"No one really knows. The common belief is that it was an accident, but it never added up. Many were blamed for her murder, but La'zanja thinks it could also have been the Dark Brotherhood, if they found out about her faking Kherim's death years ago."
Khinashi takes in all this new information, Khazi and Kherim sound like they were kind and interesting people, even if Khazi was an assassin once. It is a shame that their effort in uniting the tribes did not last after Khazi's death, but perhaps we will rectify that before the end of the day.
This one can avoid the topic no longer, J'shabi must already have convinced Ja'skar by now to make peace with La'zanja, Khinashi must make sure La'zanja will even accept the idea.
"So how do you feel about the Khajepako? Was it better when you were united, or do you prefer it now as enemies?"
"We are not enemies, we just do not get along well. La'zanja is not sure, they do not seem so bad, not as bad as her parents would make them out to be anyway. This one does not think any peace could last any longer than a generation anyway though, so it is unimportant. We are too different."
"You think so? This city has a long history. It was saved from complete destruction on the foundation of your two tribes making peace in the midst of battle."
"Yes, but that was in the middle of a war, and the city would have been destroyed otherwise. The bickering our tribes do now has not yet come to battle, if it did, perhaps that would be a different story, and peace would be a welcome opportunity."
"What about just you? When you and Ja'skar were together-"
La'zanja's semi-happy expression instantly fades away.
"La'zanja does not want to talk about that."
This one hangs her mouth open, paused in the middle of her sentence. Well that is not good. Did Khinashi not wait long enough? Did she approach it the wrong way?
"About Ja'skar or about-"
"None of it. This one does not want to talk about Ja'skar or marriage or anything of the sort. He is weak, and even if he were not, this one is no longer interested in any of that."
Some of La'zanja's old anger is starting to return in her voice, and Khinashi can tell her patience is running thin. Khinashi is standing on the edge of a cliff, and her next words could push her over, but yet if she says nothing at all, then she will have lost entirely.
"Do you hate him?"
La'zanja stares at this one for a few moments with anger, but then she looks away.
"No. He is stupid, foolish, weak, and far too nice for his own good, but La'zanja does not hate him. This one wishes he will find what it is he seeks with his...someone else, but La'zanja does not want to have anything to do with him."
For someone who hates lying and liars, this one wonders if La'zanja is not being completely truthful with her own self. This one could only just detect a sense that she may mean more than she says, but it is clear that no words would be able to convince her, it would take something different, and something Khinashi is not capable of.
As Khinashi looks out of the window and sees the orange sky, she realizes her time is up... There is no time left to change her mind, no time left to convince her.
The only thing she can hope now is that somehow J'shabi will have at least convinced the Khajepako to stand down, and for Dagi to have stopped the assassins. If not, or if that is not enough, then the riot will happen, and then...
Well it will soon be time to leave Corinthe...and go where?
"Sorry for asking. Ma'nashi will return to her duties."
Khinashi stands up and walks toward the door to leave.
"Oh, before you go, this one needs you to bring something downstairs."
"And what is that, then?" This one turns around to answer the still-sweetroll-encrusted face of La'zanja. It still amazes her how similar we look, except Khinashi would never like wearing the types of clothes she has. They are far too fancy and impractical, and the way she lets her braided hair hang down in the back, no, Khinashi would never like it that way.
Ja'skar's sword flung from the grip of his palm and spun in the air, stopping only when the tip of its blade drove into the dirt of ground just outside the fencing circle.
"Woah, what was that?"
"It was a move I picked up from Hammerfell, one of my friends there taught me it, although it wasn't actually supposed to disarm you, merely distract and open your defences..."
Hmm, perhaps 'my only friend from Hammerfell' would have been more truthful, I can't really consider the others from Hammerfell my friends.
"Ja'skar thought you were to be training this one with the basics, that did not look...basic."
"Sorry, I got a little carried away. I usually don't fight with swords, so I wanted to practice a bit myself too. Anyway, you need to keep better grip of the weapon so it doesn't fly off like that next time."
"But you just said earlier not to hold it too tightly, which is it?"
"Just hold it naturally, enough so you don't drop it, but not so tight that you can't arc your swings. An exception is when you're parrying, you'll want to keep a firm hold so you aren't pushed back."
"All of these conditional rules confuse Ja'skar. This one did not think fighting required so much thought in the midst of battle."
"Well, it's not supposed to. You want to keep an open mind when fighting, and rely more on instinct. You train a lot so you don't have to think of what to do, so it just comes naturally. Like playing an instrument, if you think about every note you're likely to miss one, but with enough practice, the motion is almost effortless."
"Ja'skar's instincts tell him not to fight in the first place."
"Then if you have to think about something, think about why you're fighting, what you hope to achieve, and less about every movement, they'll be much more fluid that way. Just don't let those thoughts overtake you, emotion can be a driving force, but also a tool to manipulate by your opponent if they so desire."
"But why would Ja'skar fight? To prove to his father that he can? To Ja'khan? They only seek to forge this one into their ideal leader, but Ja'skar does not want that."
"Well, when you're protecting someone, you'll want them to survive. When you're fighting to stop a threat, you'll think of the consequences that you're trying to prevent."
"There are more willing, better trained, and better prepared people for any of those situations."
"But what if the task falls to you? It would be good to learn, just in case."
"Ja'skar supposes."
"Well, lets try again. I can tell you already know a lot of the basics, and even some more advanced things like you said, and what I've shown you already will have filled any gaps. Your only real problem is that your heart isn't in it."
I walk over and pull the sword from the ground and return it to Ja'skar.
"This one does not know how to do that."
"That's something I can't teach you, it's something you need to find out for yourself."
Ja'skar looks ashamed, and it's hard to tell if he really wants to learn this, or if he's just too polite to ask me to stop. Without the motivation, no amount of training or tactics or knowledge of combat will make him a fighter. I have to wonder if I'm wasting his time, or if he's wasting mine.
"Once more, from the top. Remember, try to keep a better grip this time."
We begin our duel, and I purposely make sure to leave many openings for him to attack, but he only focuses on parries and defensive maneuvers, yet he seems to be aware of the opportunities available to him. I lock one of his parries with my sword, sliding blade against blade to bring his arm up to where a simple slash would be that is all that's needed for him to finally strike, but as the sword rises, it slips out of his hand once more and goes well beyond the training fence, over near the graveyard.
"That was not gripping it better."
I regret the sound of frustration in my voice and opt to go retrieve his sword to break the silence. I hop over the training fence, and as I walk, I take notice of the gravestones around me. I remember Khinashi saying something about certain northern Khajiit tribes burying their dead differently, or was it decoratively? Was it southern tribes? I can't remember, but this looks like any cemetery I've come across before.
I shake the thoughts and pick up the sword, but as I'm about to turn around, something in the distance catches my eye, and I notice someone standing by two of the larger gravestones. One new-looking, and the other older, but not aged. Then I realize that person is Dagi, placing something at the base of the graves. He hasn't seemed to notice me yet. I turn around to make sure Ja'skar is distracted and then walk toward him.
"Dagi? What are you doing?"
He seems frightened at my voice and runs away at the sight of me, and now looking closer I realize it was flowers he had placed there. I instantly regret saying anything, what he was doing here was his own business. Maybe those gravestones were of people he knew, or relatives, maybe his parents even, he used to live here after all. It isn't for me to know, so I don't approach them.
But as I turn away, my eye catches a name on a different grave and confuses me. I turn to look at it more closely, thinking I misread it.
Dazlah and Ja'nari
Two Dagi-raht orphans
who wandered too far
and remain a lesson
that some secrets
are best left unearthed
Beneath the inscription is a symbol of a hand painted on it. Dazlah is the name of the assassin leading the others against us in Corinthe. One of the two who killed Dagi's father, and who I mistook as traders when they were traveling to Torval. This can't be the same Dazlah, but yet, that symbol...It keeps appearing, and it was on that letter that Smallpaws found too, about the Clan Mother, and Dazlah is a Dagi-raht...
"You are going to return, yes? Or are we done?"
I turn to see Ja'skar approaching, then glance to make sure Dagi is out of sight by now.
"Lets practice a bit more. Here's your sword."
Ja'skar takes it begrudgingly, and it's becoming more and more clear he'd rather stop training. Yet, I just can't let myself give up.
I frown, but then remember the gravestone. Maybe Ja'skar would know something about it.
"Wait, before we go...Do you know anything about these people? Of Dazlah?" I say, pointing to the grave.
Ja'skar looks at it for a moment, and seems to remember something.
"Ah yes, Ja'skar does not remember them personally, for he would have been too young when they met their fate, but he remembers their tale."
"What do you know about them?"
"They were two Dagi-raht orphan children, outsiders to Corinthe. For a time they lived here and often stole from the Bazaar to survive. Most did not begrudge them their habits, for their circumstances made it understandable, but some merchants would often try to catch them, employing the guards and vigilantes in their aid. The two orphans made their own counter strikes against them and they became an infamous legacy throughout the town. Eventually their luck ran out however, and the guards managed to chase them out of the town. It was clear the orphans would not be able to outrun the guards forever, except they lost them when they passed the Black Door not far from the city. They could only trace their scent to the entrance of the door, whom no one knew how to open, and the two orphans were never seen or heard of again. Even though they were thieves, many of the townsfolk pitied the orphan children their fate beyond the door, believing it to be cursed. This gravestone was made in memory of them, and also to serve as a warning to any whom would follow them through it."
"And they're sure they died on the other side of the door?"
"No, but the Black Door has been there for longer than anyone in Corinthe can remember, and it has always been feared, it reeks of ominous magic and death, and so whatever fate befell them on the other side could not have been pleasant."
Hmm, so it could be the same Dazlah. I remember the hand on the door seemed similar to the one on the letter, and it is the same here. What use is that, though? It doesn't help us against Dazlah or his friends.
"Strange, well, thanks for explaining. Lets get back to the ring."
As we hopped over the fence, I noticed Ja'khan, Haskir, and Ma'krin walking up to us, with Ja'khan pushing Ma'krin forward. I can only guess what trouble Ma'krin got himself into this time, the look on the other two's faces don't look pleasant. They look...accusative.
"Ah, hello Ja'khan, Haskir, and-"
"Hello brother. It is good to see you are still alive."
"Ja'skar may not be as skillful as you Ja'khan, but he would not die from a little sword training..."
"Ja'khan doubts you would. That is not what this one meant."
The way Ja'khan said those words chilled me. What did he mean?
Ja'khan shoves Ma'krin with his foot forward, as Ma'krin reluctantly walks over to me. His expression was full of anger, but then, that was usually the case when people pushed him around.
"Your jokes confuse this one, Ja'khan. What did you come here for?"
"It has been brought to Ja'khan's attention that our guests may not have been completely truthful of their intentions here."
