Chapter XII

The journey south through Morrowind had so far been quite bland and uneventful. In the hours since they had left Blacklight, six of them hadn't run into much hostile wildlife, nor had there been much in the way of conversation either. The atmosphere seemed somewhat solemn, especially with the two Dunmer. As Tam understood it, they had lost someone very dear to them. A father and a husband, who they had been close to.

Magoza had lost more, yet she seemed to be coping well. Too well in fact. Perhaps it was everything that had happened to her since that had dulled her to the pain of losing pretty much everyone she had ever known, back at the stronghold where she had grown up. Still there was the anticipation that there could be a trigger. Something that would bring forth those suppressed feelings of loss.

Tam herself wasn't without loss. Her first happened long ago, where she had lost her whole family. Not because of death, but because she had left them behind. It had been a conscious decision as she simply couldn't face the reality she found herself in. A Thalmor soldier purging Bosmer deemed not of pure enough blood. They had begged them to let them go, sobbed as their friends and family were slain. Even now it made her feel sick. It made her feel worse when she thought of how it was still happening.

It had been far harder for her in many ways, than it had been for Magoza, or perhaps even for the Karo's. Well over a century ago now, she had ended up with no one to call friend. Her lonesomeness had lasted for years, with no end in sight. It was her own doing of course Her own arrogance and contempt for what she had seen as the 'lesser races', made it so that she couldn't make friends.

Thinking back on it now alarmed her. The reality that she could ever think that non-elves were lesser beings simply because they weren't of Aldmeri descent was disgusting. From what she had seen of Brendarr though, it seemed that he had such arrogant thoughts. That he saw mer as superior. Perhaps they were, but that didn't give them the right to treat the races of man and beast as inferior.

Llandri was more of an enigma regarding her thoughts. Outwardly she seemed rather neutral, but that could easily be a put-on to make herself more likeable. She doubted however, that she was as bad as her son. Though the question needed to be asked. If the parents weren't like that, then how did he end up such a bigot?

Hides was the biggest mystery of all. He had said even less than Llandri. Tam didn't quite know how he fit into the little troupe Magoza was with, but there was obvious hostility between him and Brendarr. Then again, there was a lot of hostility surrounding Brendarr period.

Tam's attention moved back to Llandri as she moved in step with her.

"Can I ask ya something?" the scarlet haired Dunmer began.

"Go ahead."

"What're these people we're heading off to find like?" she inquired.

"Magoza's father Meratur is pretty much a stranger to me," Tam tolld her. "You'll have to ask her on him. As for the two Nords Valerie and Rontag, they're good people. Ron is a bit like your son in some ways though."

"Ya mean he don't like folk that aren't his kind?"

"I wouldn't say he doesn't like them. More that they're foreign to him, and he says things without realising that they could be hurtful."

Magoza stepped in line with the two of them. "What're you talking about?" she asked.

"Llandri was just asking about those we were off to meet."

"They're nice people," Magoza told her. "I don't really know much about my father that well though. I was not allowed to see him for a lot of my life. I missed him. I miss him now."

"That was back at the stronghold?" Llandri asked. "When you weren't allowed to see him?" she clarified.

"Yeah."

"What was it like?"

Magoza thought for a moment. "Strict," she said finally.

"Just strict?"

"I didn't like it there. Not many liked me, and I was teased a lot for my lack of strength."

"They bullied ya?" Llandri questioned.

"They called it a test of character," Magoza told them. "But my mother didn't believe it and neither did I."

"Did ya try to build yer strength?" Llandri asked her.

"I tried, but it seemed as though my body just didn't want to listen. Maybe my lack of physical strength comes from my Altmer side."

Tam chuckled. "I'm supposed to be 'pure' blood and I can pack on the strength no problem."

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it," Magoza said with apologetically.

"I was joking around," Tam assured her

"Oh, okay."

"Please, carry on with what you were saying," Tam said.

"Well, my mother wanted to take me away from there," Magoza continued. "I think that my being bullied by the other Orcs was one of the reasons why. That and I don't think she wanted to be there anymore."

"Yer mother didn't like it at the stronghold?" Llandri asked.

"My mother was originally a city Orc in Cyrodiil. I believe she had fantasized about what life was like in a stronghold. I don't think it lived up to her expectations."

"Life's like that," Tam said. "Nothing ever lives up to expectations."

"No," Llandri agreed. "I expected me and me husband to live to be old together. To sit on the porch watching Brendarr and the grand-kids working the farm." She looked down to the dirt. "That'll never be now." She chuckled humourlessly. "Wouldn't have happened anyway. The farm was a failure."

"I'm sorry," Magoza apologised.

"No need fer ya t'be sorry. What happened weren't yer fault."

Silence fell among them. Tam had no idea what to say after that, there really wasn't anything to say. Their conversation was pretty much over.

Valerie's eyes fluttered open to the sound of her husband's voice calling her name.

The first thing she noticed, was that her wrists ached. The second was that they were above her head, and cuffed. The third was that they were the only things holding her up.

She pushed herself up on the cold stone floor, so that her feet were supporting her instead of her wrists. That's when she noticed that she was dressed only in her underwear.

She looked over to her husband, who stood looking at her with a concerned look on his face. He too was only dressed in his underwear, with his wrists cuffed to the wall just as she was.

"What's going on?" she asked him, her voice parched, her throat dry.

"That damned cat!" he spat. "Working with the Thalmor all along. He was probably the reason that they found us in Winterhold!"

Valerie's head began to spin. Jo'Agro had led her into the hands of the Thalmor. No doubt they would be 'questioned' as to the whereabouts of Tam.

"We put our trust in him," she said resentfully, looking back at her husband. "Was he nothing more than a Thalmor spy?"

"Who cares! All I know is that I'll make him into a rug!"

Valerie closed her eyes tightly, letting out a shallow sigh. After several moments she opened them again, looking around the small room they were in. The walls were all stone, and the only real feature was an iron door at the far side.

"Do you think anyone knows where we are?" Rontag asked.

"I have no clue. If they don't, then we might be here for a while."

Rontag spat again. "That damned Khajiit. I hope Oblivion takes him!"

Valerie began to pull at the iron cuffs to see if there was any give in them. To her disappointment, there wasn't.

"Don't bother," her husband told her. "Already tried."

"How long have we been here?" she wondered.

"No idea. I woke up not long before you did."

Valerie heard footsteps. "Hold on, someone's coming."

They both watched the iron door, waiting for it to open. It wasn't long until it did, and a tall female High-Elf stepped in, her cheeks red with blush, and her eyes dark with make-up.

The face was all too familiar to Valerie, as it was the same elf that had captured her outside.

"You two are prisoners of the Thalmor," the elf said, almost nonchalantly. "Do you know what that means?" Neither of them replied. "I'll tell you. It means that I am now your master. I ask you questions and you will answer them. If you do not, then the punishment will be severe." The elf looked at them both intently. "Do you understand?" Once again they did not answer.

The elf didn't look impressed. "The very first question." Lightening formed in her left hand. "I told you the punishment would be severe if you did not answer my questions."

The Thalmor raised her hand beside her face, her palm curled around the flickering bolts of energy. She thrust her hand forward, the energy lancing out like a bolt of lightning. It struck Valerie hard in the torso. Her whole body went into spasm, every part of her felt as though it was on fire.

"Stop!" Rontag yelled.

The elf looked at him. "Was that a command?"

"Yes, stop please!"

"So it was a command?" The elf looked back to Valerie. "Oh dear. He thinks he's in a position to give me commands. His error is your punishment."

The Thalmor raised her hand once more, as crackling energy formed in her palm.

Rontag's eyes went wide. "No, I didn't mean it like that!"

It was too late. Another stream of lightning struck Valerie, causing her to cry out in pain.

"Stop!" Rontag yelled. "Please!"

"You know what to do to make me stop," the Thalmor said. "Answer my questions, do you understand?"

"Yes," Rontag said, "I understand."

"Good," the elf said. "I will give you time to dwell on the circumstance you find yourself in." She looked at the two Nords before her in disgust. "A parting gift." A moment later, sparks flew at both Rontag and Valerie, both of them convulsing under the crackling energy.

A moment later the agony stopped and the elf turned and left, the door bolted shut behind her.

"Are you okay?" Rontag asked his wife.

"No," she said, holding back the tears that threatened to erupt from her eyes.

"I'm going to skin that cat when I get a hold of him!" Rontag yelled.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Valerie told him, her voice coarse.

"What do you mean by that?" Rontag asked her.

Valerie didn't reply to his question. She honestly believed that they wouldn't make it out of here alive. The horror stories of what the Thalmor did to prisoners during the war was just too much for her to bear thinking about.

"You think we're going to die don't you?" Rontag asked her solemnly.

Valerie didn't reply. She just stood there, choking back her emotions.

"We'll get out of this somehow!" he promised adamantly.

"These aren't the Vigilants of Stendarr," Valerie said, her voice trembling. "We can't convince the Thalmor to let us go. We're here until they get what they want. Then they'll kill us."

Rontag looked away. They both knew that what Valerie said was the most likely outcome. No matter how much they hoped for anything different, their stay here would probably end with their deaths.

Meratur sat at the table opposite Durza. The day had come and gone, and Valerie, Rontag and their Khajiit friend had seemingly gone missing.

As for Wren, she hadn't left her bedroom. Ever since she had revealed to him what she was. There was something that just felt unnatural about what she had told him, about what she was.

He didn't really know how he felt about the whole thing. All he knew was that she'd lied to him all this time about who and what she was. It made him wonder whether she had ever told the truth.

But he couldn't forget how she had come for him after he had been captured by the Vigilants. Sure it was ultimately her fault, but she could have just disappeared and left him to rot. She hadn't and had gotten herself caught in the process. There had been a risk to her, but she had come anyway.

Meratur rose up from his chair. "I'm going to see if Wren knows where they are," he told Durza.

"Have you not asked before?"

Meratur looked away. He'd not actually spoken with her, but had told Durza he had. At the time he hadn't been ready to talk to her again since her revelation. Now he felt like he had to ask, for the Nord's sake. "I asked if they'd gone out," he lied turning back to face Durza. "She said they had, but wasn't sure where."

"Then she doesn't know," Durza said. "After-all she has spent the whole day up there, which is quite unlike her."

"Yes, well I'm going to ask anyway."

"Go ahead."

Meratur moved off, heading up the stairs. He paused outside Wren's room before knocking loudly.

Slowly the door opened, Wren stood on the other side peering out at him. "You've come to talk?" she asked, a sad smile spreading across her lips.

"Did Valerie, Rontag or the Khajiit give you any indication of where they were going?"

"No," she replied.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I am."

"Did you speak to any of them?"

"I spoke to Valerie before she headed out."

"You did?" he questioned with surprise. "What was it about?"

"Nothing."

"You spoke about nothing?"

"Nothing of importance," she said simply.

"If you say so."

"What does that mean!?" she snapped. "I said we spoke of nothing important."

Meratur stared at her for several moments, taken aback by her sudden outburst. Then suddenly it dawned on him. "She found out didn't she!?"

"No, nonsense!"

"I can see it in your eyes."

Wren said nothing. She simply looked away.

"Do you know where they are?" he questioned. Once again Wren said nothing. "What did you do to them!?" he demanded.

"What!?" she asked taken aback. "I did nothing to them."

"I can't believe you," he said. "Not after the way you lied to me."

"I never lied!" she shot back. "You never asked, so I never told you."

"Spin it how you want," he said. "You still hid it from me."

"What was I supposed to tell you?" she asked. "I never thought it important, because I never let it define who I was."

"You're a vampire Wren!" Meratur barked at her.

"I knew it!" They both looked around to see Durza standing by the top of the stairs, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

"I'm not a vampire!" Wren said firmly.

"Liar!" Durza bellowed, drawing her sword.

"So you're going to cut me down?" Wren questioned fiercely. "Just like that?"

"A creature such as you cannot be allowed to live!" the Orc told her with conviction.

Wren looked from Durza to Meratur. "So this is how it will be?" she asked him. "Accuse me of being a vampire, then slay me?"

"You said so yourself," he reminded her.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "If you had actually listened, you'd know that I was not."

"Doesn't matter," Durza said moving forward. "Get outta the way, Meratur. It is time to make the undead fully dead."

The Altmer didn't move. Durza wasted no time pushing him aside. She jabbed forward with her sword, narrowly missing as Wren jumped clear shimmering into nothingness.

They both watched as not a moment later, the small window shattered with a loud crash.

Durza sheathed her sword. "She's run away," the Orc said rather unnecessarily. "A liar and a coward."

Meratur looked across at the Orc in shock and dismay. "Why did you attack her?"

She looked back at him with confusion. "You said so yourself. She's a vampire."

"I know I did. It's just that." He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "I just have no idea what's happening any more!"

"I'll tell you what's happening. We have a vampire to hunt."

"No!" the Altmer said firmly. "She's not that kind of vampire."

Durza folded her arms "What kinda vampire is she?"

"Not the blood-sucking kind."

"She told you that did she?"

"You saw her in the cell. She wasn't even fazed by that guy's blood."

"No, I didn't see 'cause there was a wall between us." Durza rested her hand on his shoulder. "We should report this to the authorities."

Meratur disagreed vehemently. "Absolutely not!"

"This is not up for discussion."

"I said no!" he yelled at her, pulling himself free of her grip.

Instinctively, the Orc gripped the hilt of her sword. "Be glad that I like you," she warned.

"Listen Durza," he began ignoring her idle threat, "this may sound odd, but I just cannot believe that she's a monster."

"Do not allow feelings of friendship cloud your judgement," she said to him. "If you trust her so much, then where are the two Nords and their cat?"

"I don't know. But that doesn't mean she had anything to do with it."

"Are you sure?" she questioned. "If that is so, then why did you suspect her in the first place?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know anything?"

"I-"

"-Don't know," Durza finished. "It is far too late to do anything now. We will wait till tomorrow, then we will begin the search for them with fresh eyes."

Slowly Meratur nodded in agreement.

Durza looked at the smashed window. "We will need to board that up."

"Yes, of course," he agreed.

He moved out of the room, heading downstairs. There was some wood planks in the basement. Wren was going to use them to build a planter, but that didn't look likely now.

After grabbing the wood, he took it upstairs, before heading back down to find the hammer and nails.

Durza promptly took them off him, hammering the nails through the wood, deep into the plasterboard that lay on the walls, cracking it as she did so.

With the window covered, she turned to him. "There is a chance she will return tonight. If she does, then we might be in danger."

"No, if she was dangerous, something would have happened by now," Meratur told her. "No, we're safe."

"She had a secret to hide then. That has now gone."

The Altmer turned and stepped out of the room, without saying a word. Durza promptly followed him out.

"Do not be upset with me, Meratur. It is the truth," she said sternly.

He turned around to face her. "Is it?"

"Yes, and you have to accept it."

"I cannot."

"You need time," Durza said. "Go sleep. I'll keep an eye out, and will wake you if the vampire returns."

"Somehow, I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

Meratur moved off into his bedroom, pushing the door shut behind him.

He sat on the edge of his bed, confused as to what had actually just happened. Not back when he had known her in the legion, nor here in Solitude had she once shown any indication of anything being wrong with her.

She had never hid from the sun. In fact she enjoyed its warmth, something that a vampire certainly wouldn't. At least from what he knew about them.

What she had revealed to him earlier, had he misunderstood? Was she even a vampire, or had he just jumped to that conclusion? His mind felt muddled, he felt like he didn't understand anything anymore.

Meratur forced himself to lay down. He felt tired, but knew he wouldn't sleep. Too much had happened, too much had changed.

The Altmer cast his thoughts to Rontag and Valerie. He had no idea where they had got to, but tomorrow he would begin the search. He just hoped Durza was wrong, and that Wren wasn't behind it.

But who else could it be? At this point, Meratur had absolutely no idea.