.

Chapter 14 - Massacre in Markarth

Legate Admand scowled at his duty rosters. Most of his people had been on duty throughout the holiday preparations and festivities, and should have the evening and night free, but the Dragonborn's "only a feeling" had him concerned. He'd be up all night, he was certain, and it looked like his officers were going to be earning their extra pay.

He compared his rosters to a detailed map of the city, trying to decide what forces to send to what seemed the most vulnerable spots. Understone Keep was about as secure as it was possible to be, though perhaps an extra guard or two wouldn't be amiss. The Treasury House wasn't much of a target, nor was the Silver-Blood Inn, with the Silver-Bloods out of power.

That abandoned house near the Silver-Blood Inn didn't seem quite so abandoned any longer, though; a sellsword named Honmund had been seen going in and out. His reputation was about average for a sellsword, but he'd also been seen with a suspicious-looking mace with a faint sick-green glow. Station someone there to keep an eye on the sellsword, then. And a couple at the orphanage, though why anything should disturb it was beyond him.

Honmund sighed as he prepared dinner. Not that he needed it, since he'd eaten well enough during the celebration; what he really needed was more of the mead that let him blur the knowledge of what he'd become. He was allowed enough to sleep, usually, but this evening, he didn't get even that respite.

He glared at the mace he'd been given. It was bad enough that Molag Bal had claimed him as champion, but the mace seemed to be acting as conduit for the Daedra Lord's will. And now it didn't want him to drink, because it seemed he had a mission later.

He swore to himself. Divines protect him - though they didn't seem to be - he hated being a Daedra's pawn. "All right," he growled at the mace. "What do you want me to do now?"

His answer wasn't in words, but in an urge to pack clean clothing and invisibility potions. He growled to himself, but did so, then ... waited, until a couple of hours after dusk. Then an invisibility potion, and out the door. No one saw him, of course, but there were two guards in Legion armor outside his door, and they didn't seem to notice it opening or closing, which did seem odd. He followed the mace's urgings to the house that had been converted to at orphanage, avoided the guards, and ... did what he had been brought here for.

Yssha, and everyone else at Lakeview Manor, was awakened by a thunder of dragon wings, followed by a full-throated "DOVAHKIIN!" in a voice she didn't recognize.

She and Marcurio untangled themselves from each other and the sheets, scrambling out of bed and hastily pulling on robes. Then she hurried outside, to see a blood dragon with two riders, one in Legion armor.

"What is it?" she asked, as soon as she reached them.

The Legionnaire gulped. "Uh, your orphanage in Markarth - it was attacked. I'm afraid ... no survivors. Not even the Legion guards assigned to protect it."

Yssha and Marcurio both swore before she spoke to them again. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"We don't know," the Legionnaire said. "Probably not tonight, at least - but Legate Admand thinks your presence might help morale. Especially if you help investigate ... like you did with that earlier murder."

"We shall do so, then. If you would return and inform the Legate, we will dress, call Odahviing, and be there within an hour."

"It will be done, Dovahkiin," the Skyguard replied. They took off, as Yssha's people returned to Lakeview.

Once she and Marcurio were alone, Yssha let out a deliberately restrained yowl. "They went after my orphans! Somehow, I will destroy them!"

"That may not be possible, dearling, but I share the feeling."

"I will find a way. Or if destroying them is truly not possible, I will at least stop them from harming innocents. Mortals do enough of that by themselves." With that, she went into the bathroom for her morning clean-up routine, several hours early. Marcurio took her place when she emerged, to begin dressing in her armor.

By the time they were ready to go, so were Nevan and Serana. Yssha would have preferred her uncles for this particular mission, given their far greater experience with Daedra. But they were busy with King Imiril, and the three with her were highly intelligent, and could be helpful even if two lacked experience.

When they went outside, Odahviing was waiting. Yssha told him what little they knew, then the team mounted, and he took off for Markarth.

They rarely flew at night, and Yssha wasn't happy about having to land in the dark, but as it happened, the Skyguard stationed in Markarth had anticipated the problem; dragons and their riders were in a circle, providing a fire-lit landing area. Odahviing set down in the middle, and when the team dismounted, said, "I will wait, thuri. Perhaps I can be of help."

Yssha was surprised, and gratified. "I would appreciate that, vahriini. A dovah's insights could be valuable."

Legate Admand approached. "Welcome, Ysmir. Jarl Igmund is waiting to speak to you. If you and your people would come with me?"

"Certainly, Legate."

Igmund was in the map room, but this time, the map was of Markarth, not Skyrim. "Greetings, Ysmir. Thanks for coming so quickly."

"The orphans under my patronage were killed - I could not delay. What can you tell me?"

"Not a great deal, just yet. I'm sure you were told everyone, including the soldiers guarding the orphanage, were killed."

Yssha nodded. "When was it discovered?"

"Flight time from here to Lakeview before you were notified, plus the ... maybe an hour before you arrived. So not much more than an hour ago. Calcelmo's apprentice Aicantar cast a preservation spell on the orphanage, so you can see it exactly as we found it. Brother Verulus is unhappy, says they should be taken to the Hall of the Dead right away, but I overrode him."

"That's good," Nevan said. "Moving the bodies could destroy useful evidence." He wondered about forensics here ... magical, maybe? Surely they had the concept, even if their forensics were primitive by his standards.

"How soon can we go there?" Yssha asked. "We are four mages, enough to provide more than adequate light for a proper examination of the scene."

"Right now, if you want," Admand said. "I'll take you there myself."

There were a dozen Legionnaires guarding the crime scene when the group arrived. Yssha took one look at the two dead ones. "That looks like mace work, which I am very familiar with. Does anyone think differently?"

There were no objections, and no tracks to be seen on Markarth's stone, so she nodded to Brother Verulus and his group of acolytes. "These may be taken to the Hall, Holy Brother. May the Nine be with them."

Verulus bowed, and acolytes carrying stretchers placed the soldiers' bodies on them, then left for Understone Keep.

Yssha had to summon her courage to open the door of the orphanage. Dead soldiers and bandits, however gory, she'd become inured to, but children beaten to death by maces ... no. The very idea was revolting.

The reality proved worse. She had to bury her face in Marcurio's shoulder for a few moments before she could steel herself to actually examine the interior of the orphanage. It was horrible, and didn't improve as they made their way through the building. Blood everywhere, and being mace-work, bits of flesh and brains spattered around as well ... It was hard to tell, but it looked like the children closest to the rear door had been slaughtered in their sleep, with more struggles as the unknown murderer moved closer to the front, with what she assumed to be the night matron about halfway between.

Nevan saw her reaction, and hid a sigh. His thur was a combat-hardened veteran, no question about that, but even combat vets were often disturbed by a crime scene, especially one like this. He wasn't proud of the fact that his training let him evaluate it in terms of available evidence rather than humanity, but it did, and that was a fact. So he studied details, and the evidence was contradictory. Part of it said this was a coldly planned operation, but part looked more like ... like what?

He thought back to some of his investigations before Brelyna had ... conjured him here. Maybe a crazed cultist, or just someone insane, with no particular reason for committing such mayhem. He wished things like DNA analysis was available here - some of this blood had to be the assailant's, given that a couple of the kids were holding bloody knives, or had them nearby. But he didn't even know if this universe had forensic magic, much less how to use it, if so.

When he'd made what observations he could, he turned to Yssha. "I think we've gotten everything possible from here."

"I believe so, as well. Let us leave, then, and allow Brother Verulus to care for the bodies."

As they were leaving, though, she turned back briefly for a prayer. "Mother Mara, please bring these children and those caring for them the peace and comfort they deserve, in Your loving arms."

Then she turned to Admand. "Do you have any idea who could have done such a thing?"

"I don't know, but I do have a suspicion," the Legate replied. "Not too long ago a sellsword named Honmund started carrying an enchanted mace instead of his usual sword, and took up residence in an abandoned house just up from Arnleif and Sons. We can check with the troops I have guarding the door."

Yssha nodded. "Yes - let us do that. If he recently began carrying an enchanted mace, I definitely want to talk to him."

Not long afterward, Legate Admand was asking his men if Honmund had gone anywhere. They assured him the sellsword hadn't gone anywhere, but the enchanted mace had aroused Yssha's suspicions, so she asked one of them, "Are there any other exits?"

"No, ma'am," he replied. "This place is carved into the mountain - the only other doors are internal."

"Very good." She went to the door and knocked. After a couple of minutes, there was no response, so she knocked again. Still nothing, and she sighed. "Legate, this is a mass murder investigation, and the only current suspect is refusing to respond, if he is there. If not, I will apologize and pay for repairs. For now, if he is there and resists, try to disable rather than kill. Now, everyone behind me."

Once they had obeyed, she double-checked that she was wearing the Amulet of Articulation, and Shouted at the door. This was a sturdy-looking main entrance, not a flimsy interior door, so she used the full Shout. "Fus ... Ro DAH!"

To her relief, while it blew the door open and off its hinges, it didn't shatter anything, and she led the group inside.

Honmund heard the noise, like an earthquake, and rose groggily, having managed to get drunk enough to fall asleep. He stumbled into the main room, blearily recognizing Imperial armor and Skyguard surcoats, the group apparently led by a small Khajiit.

"Huh? Who ... what's going on?"

"You are Honmund?" the Khajiit asked quietly - for which he was grateful.

"I ... yes. Why?"

Yssha hid a sigh. The man was all-too-obviously drunk, and maybe not just on the ale and mead she could smell, but she didn't recognize the other undertones. "There was an attack on the Markarth Orphanage earlier tonight, by someone wielding a mace. You have recently begun carrying an enchanted mace. Do you know anything about it?"

Honmund began to shake his head, but something stopped him. "I ... I'm not sure. I had a nightmare ... "

"Gah." Serana snorted, adjusting her weight on her crutches to free her right hand. "I've seen this before, or something very similar. He's no vampire, so it isn't a true blood-drunk, but close. I think I can sober him up for you."

"Then please do."

Serana cast her spell, and Honmund collapsed, vomiting until his stomach was empty, and continuing a bit beyond that.

When he stood, with a trooper's help, he looked at Yssha with a haunted expression. "You ... Dovahkiin? Can you help me?"

"Help you how?" Yssha was beginning to guess what was going on, but she needed confirmation.

""Free me." His voice sounded defeated. "Molag Bal has claimed me as his champion. So I think that nightmare ... was probably real. And ... I can't pray, not properly. He won't let me! So I'm condemned to Coldharbour."

"Maybe not," Serana said. "there are ways to free yourself from him, even if you're a vampire. I was a Daughter of Coldharbour, and now I'm a normal Nord."

"But how? And ... how can I pay for what I did, if it was real rather than a nightmare?

"If?" Yssha asked bitterly. "If? I saw my orphans DEAD!" She felt a twinge, and drew herself up. "Show me through this house. The whole thing. Now."

Honmund bowed his head. "Yes, Ysmir. Follow me."

She and the rest did, all the way down to the excavated hollow that held the altar, where Serana stopped them, pointing with a crutch. "That's Molag Bal's .. the feeling is unmistakable. No one but Yssha beyond this point."

Yssha didn't like that, but continued on and approached the altar. "Molag Bal. Attack me myself any way you wish, but attack those I have taken under my protection, and I will use whatever resources I have, or can muster, to counter you."

That got her a contemptuous laugh. "What resources, Dragonborn? You're nothing more than a tool to defeat Alduin, and that you've already done. The Divines have no more use for you, pawn."

"Ah, but we do," a resonant male voice replied. "As you well know. My daughter, in her own way, represents all of us."

"So? Those she supposedly protects are still vulnerable, as my champion proved this night."

"You claimed him, if I am correct, rather than him consenting," Yssha said coldly.

"I am the Lord of Brutality," Bal responded. "He is weak, but he was better than the Vigilant I made him kill. No, I left him no choice, and he will be in my service for eternity."

"Perhaps not." Yssha's attention went to Bormahu Akatosh. Can this be made a compulsion-free chamber for a few minutes?

Yes, Moni. But why?

This one seems as much a victim as my orphans. I feel he deserves a chance to regret his actions, and even pay for them with his own pain. Perhaps soul-trapping him, then sending him to the Soul Cairn for a time, might let him do so.

She sensed amusement. Not the Soul Cairn, no. But we do have such a realm, and if he can hold to the hope of redemption at his death and afterward, he may yet achieve Sovngarde.

Which he most definitely did not deserve, at least now, in her opinion. Even Coldharbour might be too good for him. But ... she wasn't a Divine, and it wasn't up to her to judge another's soul.

But she had to give him the chance, or she wouldn't be able to live with herself. She turned away from Molag Bal's altar, to the murderer. "Bormahu says there is another realm you can travel to, if you can hold to the hope of redemption at your death, and beyond. If you cleanse yourself of guilt by willing acceptance of the suffering you are given, you may yet achieve Sovngarde."

Honmund dropped to his knees, his head bowed. "Thank the Nine! Please, before Bal compels me again!"

Since both were behind the barrier of Serana's crutch, Nevan obliged him.

Yssha turned to Admand. "I am a priestess, of a sort, but I do not have the training to do what must be done. Who is the ranking cleric here?"

"That would be Mother Hamal, high priestess at the Temple of Dibella."

"Could you send someone to ask if she would be kind enough to join us here?"

"Of course."

When Hamal joined them, Yssha bowed. "Thank you for coming, Revered Mother. You know what happened here?"

"Yes, I was told on the way. What do you want of me, Ysmir?"

"I would like you to cleanse both this house and the Orphanage of Molag Bal's taint, if that is possible."

Hamal smiled. "Quite possible. My Lady is not fond of those who pervert Her gifts, and favors those who use them as intended. The Lord of Rape perverts; you use Her gifts properly." She paused. "She does suggest you purify the shrine with fire before I proceed, however."

Yssha grinned, showing her fangs. "I would be more than happy to do so, Revered Mother. The rest of you should return upstairs and perhaps go outdoors, however. I plan to use my Flame Breath at full power, and I have no idea how far it will spread in such an enclosed location."

"As you say, Dovahkiin. We are leaving now."

Yssha gave them twice the time she thought it would take for everyone to get outside, then Shouted, directly at the shrine. "YOL ... TOOR SHUL!"

What came out made her extremely glad she was immune to the effects of her own offensive Shouts. The shrine, and the entire chamber, turned into almost volcanic-level lava, and as she retreated up the tunnel, the fireball followed her, spreading - at lesser intensity - throughout the larder and the rest of the lower level, then subsiding further as she reached the upper level. By the time she reached the door, it was no worse than ordinary flame, but even that had the guards retreating until she emerged and the flames began to die behind her.

Mother Hamal gave her a quizzical look. "That was ... more impressive than I was expecting, Ysmir. I fear I will have to let it cool before I can cleanse it, so the orphanage will be first, instead."

"Thank you, Revered Mother. Unless your Lady thinks it necessary, I would prefer not to burn out the orphanage."

"No, that won't be necessary." Hamal smiled. "Normal cleansing will be sufficient, though from what I understand, that will take some time, and the contents will need to be replaced."

Yssha shuddered. "The staff who were off duty will take care of the physical cleaning and renovation. But I would prefer they wait to do it after your cleansing."

The priestess chuckled. "I can understand that, and I'll take care of it right away."

Yssha bowed her thanks. "In that case, I shall report to the Jarl and then return home. Blessings of the Nine on you, Revered Mother."

"And on you, my daughter."