Author's note: This story is written in the words of the main characters; they are talking the reader through what has happened to them. Keep in mind that while Lomé (pronounced 'Lomeh') is a Dunmer and therefore speaks clearly, Khan is a Khajiitt. His accent therefore is very strong and I have written him as such. He speaks phonetically, often explaining what he means after he has actually said it, so be patient with him and simply read what you see. It'll come to you I promise. Each chapter will switch from one point of view to the other, embellishing the story as it goes along. One final note, this story obviously contains a homosexual relationship and will deal with the implications of this i.e.; being in Morrowind where such things are taboo, for the characters as it progresses. If such things are not to your taste please don't flame me, simply click the little back button and find something else to read.
There we go, next chapter all done and ready.
I would like to thank my co-author/best friend for all his help on this chapter. Joe. You're a diamond.
Dedicated to those who wish to read.
Setting the Scene:
"What day is this?" Tybus Pelanix muttered as he squinted at the letter he had just been presented in the dim light. The courier who had given it to him seemed to have dissolved into thin air.
"Fredas" his companion Gerita Hers answered, leaning over his burley shoulder to catch a glimpse of their latest writ. She was soon batted away for her snooping but she didn't mind. Persistence always worked with Tybus. She'd get her lookin soon enough.
"This is dated from two days ago" the man sniffed, running a oil blackened thumb over the date. "Middas. You'd have thought that damn Breton courier would have known to look for us here."
Gerita chuckled, looking across the tavern, taking in the patrons as they milled and bobbed and weaved about each other. It was late. Most of them were half way numb on the liquor. She was hoping a fight would break out soon.
In fact that Dunmer over there and that Breton who'd been eyeing him looked ready to kick off any second…
"So what does he want this time Ty? Muscle for a mine job?" she winced, then grumbled into the carafe of ale sitting on the table before her "Or is it the God damn fields again? Please don't tell me it's the fields. I can't STAND those Camonna Tong Vith-spawn! Think they own the OW!" she yelped when Pelanix elbowed her sharply in the ribs.
"Keep your voice down you damn banshee" he snarled. "Those words don't pass easy to any ears. Least of all Imperial ones." He turned his attention back to the writ he held, examining the details and the signature.
"It's not the Plantation this time Rita" he muttered, slipping his comrade's pet name into conversation to try and appease her. She looked back at him, slipping a hand across his forearm as she leant close to take a look.
"Caldera…" she murmured, looking to Pelanix's face then back to the writ. "That's half way up the West Gash Ty…when are we needed by?"
Pelanix folded the thick, expensive feeling piece of parchment and slipped it into a hidden pocket in his leathers. "Another as soon as possible job" he said, taking up his carafe, draining it and gesturing for two more.
"The evening is young" Gerita noted, hiding her smirk as the Dunmer in the corner cursed at his Breton voyeur. "They're gonna kick off" she said as her companion welcomed the requested pair of carafes to the table and shooed the waitress away.
"You think?"
"Oh yeah…been eyeing each other since we got here" Her wolfish stare was brought back to her companion when he grasped her jaw and forced her head around. At his knowing though silent look she sighed.
"Concentrate on the writ. I know Ty. How many others will we need this time? 10? Upwards of 20?"
"Drink up" the other prompted, pushing one of the carafes towards her and drawing deeply on his own. She stared at him in disbelief.
"But we only just…and they're just about to…"
"Keep your eyes on the gold pouch woman" Pelanix growled, pushing the remaining ale away. "Hurry up. We can't talk here." He stood, grabbed his protesting comrade by the arm and dragged her bodily from the doors of the Six Fishes just as the brewing scuffle within kicked off.
After a five minute march through the main Plaza and out onto the road leading north past Vivec Gerita spoke.
"You're a real fetcher, you know that right? LET GO OF ME I can walk unassisted!" Pelanix obligingly released her arm and strode on into the gathering darkness. East over the grasses until they could see Vivec's great Palace and the Ministry of Truth looming before them. There they settled, confident that any who passed would think them lovers and leave them undisturbed.
"Caldera then" Gerita finally murmured, trying as best she could not to be over awed by the spectacle she could see behind her companion. A thousand lanterns were lit, as they were every evening, swathing the ornate stone city in a warm golden orange glow. The waters cascading from the palace's walls rippled and flecked in the dimness, the Temple Canton was awash with colour as priests and noble visitors bustled children on their way to lay flowers and semi-precious gems at the shrines as gifts to their various Gods. The Ordinators, dressed to the nines in their golden masks and armour marched with innate pride about their rounds.
It was beautiful.
Pelanix pushed at her shoulder to retrain her attention and produced a worn map of Vvardenfell from one of his numerous pockets. She blinked off her momentary lapse into voyeurism and focussed on the map.
"Caldera" he agreed, opening the map out and turning it so Gerita could examine it right side up. The darkness that had fallen was not so deep as yet to make route planning impossible. The woman leant closer to the map, tracing a finger from Ebonheart, north past Vivec, along to Balmora and then up to Caldera in the Gash.
"How will we pass under the Legion's nose?" she muttered, tapping at Fort Moonmoth. "That little town is crawling and I mean CRAWLING with guards. Those in Ebonheart watch us now. They know what we are but not where we're travelling. If we turn up in Balmora with a band of 30…hell Ty even you couldn't smooth talk your way out of that."
Pelanix gave her a calculating smile. Amongst their ragtag band of what everyone else on the Isle called 'Mercenaries' he was well known to have a silver tongue. He drew a blackened fingertip from the docks of Ebonheart, all the way up to hal Oad in the north.
"We go around them" he explained, tracing a route through the swamps of the Bitter Coast, then down through the Gash to Caldera. "We won't even need to get past Gnaar Mok."
Gerita smiled. Her Ty always saw the big picture.
"Hlan and the Chun-Ook?" she asked, referring to Ebonheart's ship master and his beloved vessel. The Mer Ty had paid half his yearly wage to remain open to their comings and goings.
"Who else" Pelanix smirked. "Light the lamps tonight" he instructed as they rose. Those of their band who remained in the area patrolled the edges of Ebonheart nightly and knew to congregate when the lamp light shone from the copse just outside the city walls. The Legion was getting edgy with them, so their absence until the Caldera job was done would lower their profile and make operations safer in the future.
Half way across the empire, away from Morrowind and its comings and goings, in the council chambers neath the White Gold Tower of the Imperial Palace, the Elder Council sat in session. The second portion of the quadragraph used for the presentation of perceived threats was reaching its end. Councillors Armak Tei of Black Marsh and Erik Thaal of Skyrim were finishing their presentation on the historical lessonates…or at least the perceived historical lessonates…surrounding the maintenance of slavery in the Dunmer provinces. A shaman and a mage respectively, they had arrived as soon as the High Chancellor's call for their presence reached them.
"As such" Thaal boomed "we conclude that in spite of the slave Queen Alessia's in 1E 242, and the resultant destabalising of the Ayleid rule in the Morrowind province, slavery is still held in high order."
"Senturies haav seen tha denisens ahhv thoss lands travel ta tha Black Marsh fer just such purrposes." Tei put in, his voice, despite how personally he could have taken the fact that his people were so exploited, held not a note of passion. "We see not' haow discontent fraam Elsweyr will force change…eef thaa Jiti Mane wans conflic'…" he placed a scaled hand to his finely robed chest "we…miyself…thoss ayi represent…respectfully suggest preparation."
The rumble of disquiet that echoed through the chamber lasted for minutes after Tei and Thaal returned to their seats. As the debate raged Chancellor Ocato leaned to his Emperor's ear.
"Preparation Sire need not necessitate open war…creating a greater patrol presence along the borders…allowing all of the south trade to be conducted on the waters of the Niben…maintaining vigilance in the face of…"
"Ocato" the Emperor interrupted, his chancellor falling instantly quiet. "Rise with the councilors the question of the Armistice of 2E 896."
Obligingly Ocato nodded, stood and called for order. "Gentlemen" he began "I thank councilors Thaal and Tei for their invaluable contributions to our debate. But let us move our attention forward in time. In the year 896 of the second Era Tiber Septim granted the Mer of the Resdayn province the right to own slaves as a concession to their long held beliefs and culture. As a grounds for peace between Resdayn and Cyrodiil." The once bickering councillors deferred their squabbles as they listened to the Emperor's most skilled orator speak.
"That same piece of legislation now seems to be having the opposite effect. It incites hatred from the Jiitti Mane and disquiet" he gestured to councillor Tei "amongst members of councillor Tei's people. Im-Kilaya patron of the Argonian Mission on Vvardenfell is but one noted example." The Argonian in question stood from his seat next to Councillor Tei and bowed deeply, first to the Emperor, then the Chancellor, then once more to the congregation of Councillors around him.
"Thaa honur ees mah'ine Sire…Serjo…Serjos…" he spoke with quiet purpose before returning his intent gaze to the Chancellor.
"Tell us, Im-Kilaya" Ocato proclaimed "Of how this Armistice is affected by what you call the Twin Lamps."
As the Argonian took a breath and began to explain the Emperor sat forward to listen, his mouth hidden behind his steepled fingers.
"Thaa Lamps be ah symbol ahhn ah group Sire. Names ahhv members ayi cannat geef, bot no thaat they ahr numerous. We werk tah return ahlla de slaves we cahn ta thaar 'ome lands. Ta free dem fram de bondage trew which dey ahr forced."
Im-Kilaya paused a moment, considering the information he had received from Ilmeni Dren the week prior to his leaving Vvardenfell for Cyrodiil. He had planned to seek assistance from the Elder Council himself and, by sheer blind luck, found himself washed into the Council chambers along with numerous other interested parties to the debate that had begun about the continued slavery.
He had learnt more than he felt he had a right to about the prospect of the coming war.
"Im-Kilaya…" the Altmeri Chancellor prompted when his contemplations and resultant silence grew long.
"Fergiveness Serjo…Sire…" he turned his eyes to the Emperor. "Would eet plees yah tah no dat de wan de Ashlander Ashkhans cahll Nerevarine be part ahv de Lamps?"
The shock on Ocato's face was mirrored by that of the Emperor. As they turned to each other and the room descended once again into cacophony, Im-Kilaya wondered why the Chancellor seemed to be seething with anger while his ruler, the Emperor seemed to be smiling with glee.
Lomé
Having, to the point I sampled that of our quarry, only ever tasted my own, I was drawn to conclude that blood does not have a disagreeable flavour. I rolled the little I had sampled around my mouth before swallowing, like a wine taster would his sip from his vats in the vineyards on the mainland. It was warmed by the fire its vessel sat next to and went down...perhaps easier than the 'proper' Mer within me would admit.
It was thicker than expected, and coated the tongue and the back of the throat.
"Overall an impressive blend" I teased, looking into the flat bottomed cup I held, then back to Blatta as she snickered and refused a taste for herself.
"Not my poison" she breathed, fanning her flushed cheeks with a hand and passing the cup on to Kara. The youth cupped the vessel in his paws for a moment, swirling the contents before setting it down again by the fire.
"Mys tek only afta Dro'Khan" he proclaimed as he nudged the cup into position with his fingertips, then sat back and looked between Blatta and I. A little lost with what to do with himself now that Khan had vanished off to answer nature.
Not wanting the easily irked young Jiitt to panic is his father's absence Blatta rose, collected her now lightly annotated map of the Grazelands and a selection of kohl sticks, and set Kara to the task of mapping out our latest hunt. The browning, frayed edges of one corner were pinned neath an equally brown ruddy paw as the young one went to work and I was rejoined in the warmth by our Imperial captain.
"Should keep him busy til papa returns" she murmured, a fond glance given to the now utterly absorbed scribe before she focused on my supine form. I stretched out further, leaning into the nearest still packed bedroll I could.
"So long as papa is quick to return" I gave the lands into which Khan had disappeared a glance. "Take my word saa, the boy is joined to him at the hip." Blatta's gaze warmed as I spoke and she answered my bemused frown with a jovial one of her own.
"You speak of Kara as if he is alone in his love of Jiitti company…you're even starting to speak like them Sera" she chuckled, ignoring the flare of mortification that I'm sure showed in my eyes and reaching for my bared forearm, brushing it softly with her fingertips before I could move to recoil.
"I wonder if one day you will be similarly furred as well" she snickered, patting my arm again having noticed the unease that she took to be caused by her touch. Covering an overly boisterous action with another equally boisterous one to, perhaps, convince me of the normality of the first. It took a moment for my internal monologue, one ravaged by insecurity regarding my…past imprudence regarding the Jiitt in question…to catch up with my logical mind.
She is referring to your acquaintance, nothing more it whispered. For there is nothing else.
Thus…assured…I fixed the most dashing smile I could upon my lips, one practised, admittedly…ashamedly…to incite Ilmeni's curiosity, and mimicked Blatta's gesture.
"The only fur I could wear" I noted as she smiled at my reciprocated, though rather tentative pat "is stitched into armour that I have no love for. Nordic craftsmanship…fine as it may be…"
"Is geared towards those who would…" Blatta chuckled, catching my train of reference.
"Fill their cuirasses" I finished as laughter engulfed us both. I was referring to an exchange she and I had shared during our first voyage together, along the coast to Holamayan. A newly purchased fur cuirass sat between us, its owner, me, glaring at it heatedly.
"Why so incensed Serjo?" my Ferrier had asked. I had moved my glare from it to Blatta, the answer in my mind obvious.
"Ralen Tilvur" I snarled the name of the smith who had ripped me off. Blatta had frowned, begging an explanation.
"The Hlaalu smith in the Foreign Quarter! Best price in the city for you Serjo!" I caustically mimicked. "Wouldn't want you to come to harm without decent armour Serjo. It will fit you perfectly Serjo." Again I glared at the offending cuirass.
"Fit me well" I growled as Blatta struggled to keep the mirth from her face. "Perhaps if I were an Orcish behemoth!"
"You should always have a fitting before you purchase Serjo" she instructed, trying desperately not to cackle at how spitting mad I was. I had rounded on her again, more than ready to flay her verbally for interfering…but found myself slowly succumbing to the same mirth she was already lost to.
We spent the remainder of that voyage in the same kind of easy comradeship that we shared presently as we watched Kara fiddle away with his paper and kohl.
"Such a darling boy" she murmured as she reclined in the warmth after poking at the roasting kill with the designated 'cooking' stick. She was satisfied with my 'mhmm' of agreement and let me to my ponderings as I stared out again the way Khan had prowled off.
I let myself dwell there a moment, noticing as the minutes ticked by…as he did not return…but forced my attention back to the camp. Back to Blatta as she shifted, leant over and jostled our supper again.
"Give this another couple of hours and it'll be more than ready" she commented, flicking out a small knife to carve a lattice into the uppermost side of the joint. She turned it over then, and repeated the carving on the cooked side before moving over to Kara's workspace and going about distracting him further. Asking him questions about this and that.
Complimenting him on his artistry.
Anything to keep him occupied and to keep Khan's lagging return from taking too great a toll.
I rose, stretched, rubbed my hands against my cloth covered ribs and picked my way towards the northern perimeter of the camp. The evening was deepening; the once golden wisps of cloud melting into the fiery halo cast by the setting sun out in the west. I heard Kara mutter "Where Dro be aht?" Heard Blatta placate him for the first of seven times come the passing of the next hour and the further falling of the gathering dark. The first three were gentle, understanding of the youth's unease. The fourth through sixth were increasingly exasperated. The seventh…had I not suggested a game of dice in just the right tone at just the right moment…well, I am sure she would have hurled something at the poor Ja for his insistent worries.
"Khan is fine Kara" I repeated as we began the game. Our coins were pooled and shared out. The winner this time promised the entire purse full. "He is most likely enjoying the sunset or the open plains to the north."
"Bu…"
"No Ja" my tone was stern as I handed him the dice, Blatta curling herself next to me, finding some respite from her temper at the young Jiitt. "Leave him to his business and his thoughts. He, like you, has never set paw in these lands…" I gentled my tone consciously "and will be enamoured by them, as you are." My words seemed to appease him enough to allow the dice game to go on with little bother. Every rustle or crack heard from outside camp drew Kara's hopeful eyes, but never was it Khan.
Though countenancing that I was uneasy at all was difficult, Khan being too large and strong an individual for even the most feisty Nix to take down alone, I was indeed troubled by his absence.
I kept the feeling private throughout our game. Kara once again proved that his luck knew no bounds, and he was elated to be able to stash over 240 drakes within his travelling pack before he turned his attention to our supper. It brought Blatta and I two extra hours of peace from the young one's worries for his father and allowed our meal to be divided up and enjoyed without tension or stress.
As plates were cleared and bedrolls unfurled however, Kara's longing looks north began again. He settled by the northern border of the camp, the spot where I had taken in the vista hours earlier and waited, his eyes fixed on the horizon. Much as I shared his unease, I knew allowing him to go gallivanting off in search of Khan would be against every wish my missing brother had for him. So, as a trade off I promised him that I would maintain a vigil, in exchange for his promise to try and rest the night through.
"If he does not return by the morn, we shall search the plains for him together" I said, speaking into Kara's eyes.
"Why nat naw…" the Ja almost whined, again looking towards the north. I bit back the phrase 'too dangerous', knowing that that would only confirm his fears, and settled for "If he returns and finds us gone, he will worry for you as much as you are for him."
Tenuous as the argument was, the Ja finally bowed to my pleas for him to remain and rest. He hobbled over to his bedroll and folded himself upon it, his eyes on the fire, his tail's tip worried between his forepaws. As I took my place on the outcropping that marked our camp's northern border I was privy to Blatta's attempts at making peace with the antsy Khajiitt. She brought him a blanket…laid it over him once he'd seen her and shown no signs of distaste and set a cup of warm tea by his paws.
"Rest child" she hushed, a hand cupped about one of the Ja's bony shoulders before raising, collecting a small bottle from her pack and joining me on the watch. I didn't need to see her take a sip and wince at the strength to know it contained Sujamma. Twas I who broke the minutes long silence between us.
"Not one for children?" I murmured, my mirth plain.
"I heard once of a pot calling a kettle black Lomé" she replied through a grimace. "Hurry up Khan…"
I gave a soft huff of laughter, reached for her bottle, took it carefully and sipped before handing it back. "Yes. Do hurry up…" I concurred, wishing, if only for Kara's sake, that our hopes were answered.
The fire's dying breath was taken long after dark had fallen. Blatta had long since left me to my watch, her bedroll shifted between Kara's and the camp's perimeter…just in case he decided to try and track his wayward Dro'Khan down.
I cast my gaze back over my resting camp-mates, watching as a coil of smoke rose from our fire pit and was carried north by the breeze. I estimated it to be midnight and still there was no sign of Jiitti eye shine in the darkness. Nothing at all coming our way but for the odd scattering of wild fowl stretching their wings as they dove after the fireflies dotting the landscape before me with pockets of discordant harmony and disjointed light.
With peace surrounding me, and silence necessary for the comfort of those resting just behind me to my right, I mentally voiced the question I had been posing myself since Khan's absence first started to worry me.
Should I go after him?
Logically I knew…three things. Firstly that he was more than capable of taking care of himself in the wilds of northern Vvardenfell. His efforts with the Guar we had so recently hunted made that achingly clear. Secondly that if he had come onto trouble his roar would have reached me, if not Kara, as soon as it left his mouth. Again I justified that conclusion with reference to our earlier hunt.
It has a deep, thunderous timbre to it, the breaths he takes just beforehand becoming more snarling growls than breaths at all.
And third, I knew that he should have returned by now. Entranced by the wilds or not, he would surely wish for Kara to share his enchantment. I let a discontented puff of breath of on my next exhalation, shifting where I perched to lessen my slowly growing comfort. If I grew too comfortable I knew I would fall asleep, and Kara's promise not to flee the camp in search of his Dro' rested on my continued vigilance.
Yet, knowing these things and in spite of my every attempt to appease it, my unease remained. And no matter how many times I repeated 'you only want to be relieved from looking after his skittish Ja' in my mind I could never quite settle for that level of self delusion.
He had even, reasoned a decidedly scathing mental whisper, tracked you down when the wastes called and the mountain beckoned. I sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of my nose, my eyes suddenly itchy with wanted but denied sleep.
I had not meant to end up where I had, all told, and I had been honest with Khan in my concerns about wandering Blight victims prowling the plains. What I had not expected was to come upon one of the ash clouds given form, one of the Ash Slaves that had served my now dead nemesis. Created by Ur and his priests using long dead souls thrust into the ashy depths of the mountain, they would act as guards to any place their master decreed. With that master gone their worth and their strength diminished to such a degree that I had precious little trouble dispatching that which I came across.
I shifted slightly, my eyes wandering west again, my mind wandering with them through the jagged ravines which I had so diligently guarded the night prior. With no attentive brother to rid me of them, my thoughts raced back to the train they had followed as I watched. The world's noise became, as it had then, a low hum in the back of my mind as I forced my focus back along the tenuous line between the memories I had of the lands I watched and those I could not recall.
The blurred areas that dotted my recollection of my still very much too recent past.
They were black days, those from the moment I reached the Ghost Gate that last time, on my way into 'Dagoth Ur'. The guards that inhabited, and to my knowledge still inhabit, the great stone towers flanking the double-gates watched my approach in silence. How they had heard of my approach was a mystery to me. I concluded, as they congregated outside to watch me pass, that they had been waiting for me.
Much as Dagoth Ur was.
The Armingers, dressed in their ornate ebonies and golds stood back from the gates as I neared them, allowing me a wide berth which I was inordinately grateful for. From the distance they kept my fear would not be so plain upon my face. The Imperial battalion that had joined their ranks however, dispatched by Vivec himself after our last meeting, were less dour than their predominantly Dunmer counterparts. Though silent at first their excitement was obvious as they shifted and jostled to get a better glimpse of proceedings.
One of them began to clap as the first of the Ghost Gate's barriers was raised. The Armingers scowled darkly in discontent. I had the deep urge to flee; their joviality and praises completely the opposite of what I felt did my situation justice.
Here they clapped for the man walking to his demise, their applause translating into some kind of macabre death march as it rattled through the empty ash laden air and echoed down along the Foyada.
For all my apparent stoicism, stone faced as I remained as I watched the gate rise…as I passed beneath it…I had to catch my breath and hold it to keep a panicked cursing fit behind my teeth the second I disappeared from their sights. Resigned as I was to the death I was sure I was walking into, remaining calm in the face of such things was not a given.
BRING US BACK THE DEVIL'S HEAD NEREVAR! they bawled as I moved towards the second gate, the first closing behind me with a rasping shriek of metal on metal.
KILL THE UR! another piped up.
DOWN WITH THE DEVIL! agreed another as the clapping increased in volume, the Armingers joining in now that I could not see them break with propriety.
The second gate rose, the air humid and scorching hot beyond it despite how far I was from the crater…how high the mountain's cliff like sides rose before my eyes. I looked back once before striking out on my way. Saw the clamouring guards beyond the gates…in lands I thought I'd never walk through again…and wished them all, for a very private moment, to every plain of Oblivion for seeing my torment as some kind of adventure.
The memories die away from that last glance…a blur of ash and dust and heat and a wooden bridge between somewhere…leading to somewhere else...I shook myself bodily, willing feeling back into my limbs, the humming that stole a sense from me receding a moment…then rushing back as I recalled Vemynal…and Ordosal…their towers roaring their protests into the howling ripping winds that cocooned the mountain for 23 of the 24 hours in every given day. I lived for that 24th hour…for that moment of peace, brought on by goodness knows what…by some atmospheric condition…or perhaps by Azura's tepid mercy…
I hid all I could in that hour. Not physically. There was little I could do to disguise my passing. Those who assailed me followed the scent of my blood, caked as it was in my clothing, my hair and along the leather belts keeping my weapons lashed to my person.
But mentally…mentally the quiet allowed a refuge. And panic…I am unashamed to admit…took hold in that precious hour more than once. I would alternate between rapid pacing, wringing my hands until they bled as I thought out my next attempt at the crater…I had to make three attempts before I finally breached it…and sitting or crouching and remaining dead still against the rush of the world around me. Trying to find, behind my tightly closed lids, some safe place where equilibrium could be restored.
Luck, fickle scrow as she is, never allowed me time to find it, and presently, as I sat on the northern edge of my camp in the Grazelands…the mountain silent…I knew, wounds healed or not, that that equilibrium had yet to return.
That lack precipitated, in my mind at least, my decision to patrol and guard the border between the Grazelands and the Ash wastes beyond the cliffs. The…fear that I had somehow become so adept at blocking out the world and its Ash and Blight and screaming winds that I'd concocted all I had gone through after my return in some bright little corner of my mind. That I was really still huddled behind a shield on the southern face, my arms up, clasped about my head to keep the screaming out. It remained regardless of my rational mind balking at the thought.
Regardless of every other bit of evidence to the contrary, that whisper remained. THE whispers remained, even if they were only memories of memories now. I could still pick them out if I focussed.
…Neeerrreeevvaarrr…
The name was rasped, gutturally clear and, the product of my imaginings or not, I focussed on it through the hum of the waking world, my heart quickening as it ever did when I was similarly plagued months previous.
…Nerevar…
It pled insistently and I cocked an ear to better sample it. Rationally I knew it was some psychological ruse…irrationally…I had not seen Ur die as I fled the Heart Chamber…irrationally he could still be there…
…Nerevar…
Again, and even more insistent now it called…it seemed closer almost…and, in my world…that whose boundaries were my own mind's walls, I did not connect its call for attention with the waking world. Did not notice Blatta's concerned voice calling to me until her hand pressed softly to my back.
"Lomé!"
Instinctually I reared away from her touch, snapped around and caught her wrist in my hand before my eyes had refocused on all that was around me. The edges of my mind remained on the mountain until she whom I so forcefully grabbed spoke again, concern woven with fear in her voice.
"Serjo? You were muttering…" a frown marred her face as my focus returned, as my grasp loosened with all speed until my fingers barely held her still as she spoke. "Are you well Lomé?" A little hand rose and was touched to my cheeks and forehead before I turned from it, my eyes on Kara where he lay staring at me so intently he may as well have seen straight through me.
"Yes" I managed after a pause, my voice thick and heavy with disuse. Blatta skittered away, returned with a water skin, full as it was after collecting the rains from a night or so ago and forced it into my numb fingers. I stared at it dumbly a moment, then drank deep, shuddering at how cool it was against my oddly dry throat.
"Are you alright?" she pressed again after I passed the skin back, mimicking me as I gestured to my temples and muttered "Demons".
"Demons Serjo" she forced a chuckle for Kara's benefit, the Ja' looking too, too uneasy in my company all of a sudden. "Has nightmares standing up this one does Kara" she chortled, nudging my arm, ignoring my barely hidden recoil and bustling back to tend to the nervy Khajiitt.
As her hushed placations eased through the camp I moved back to my post, sat heavily against the rock I had been occupying and dropped my head into my hands.
Damn it I mentally snarled, exasperated beyond belief that I had reacted so profoundly…that I had been affected so profoundly by memories that, in my rational waking mind, I knew to be simply those.
Simply memories. Voices replayed by a broken mind, nothing more.
Resigned then to being so damaged I allowed myself to ponder he whom I found comfort in through the weeks after I had indeed returned from the mountain. Much as I was…wary of dwelling upon him…merely the thought of Khan's steady presence began to ease then tension humming through my body. And, safe in the knowledge that my past…indiscretions…were products of my own mind, not of Khan himself, I allowed myself to ponder…rose my still heated face to the coolness of the night air and let the stress melt away as I remembered the little flashes of joy I had found through knowing him.
They came in a jumble of sensations. The scents of his soaps and the meats he'd prepared on the night I met D'Jali for the first time. The moment of bliss I felt as the tiny femme-Jiitt clambered over me to reach her mother…the assurance and support I felt from Khan as he watched with pride…Our game of evade, long back by the river…
A smile curled my lips at that thought, at how carefree I had felt as I chased him through the shallows, laughing like I hadn't in…too long…of how safe I had felt sprawled against his flank as we caught our breaths, ignorant and uncaring of Ilmeni and her 'propriety'…how I could hear and feel his deep purr right through his side as I rested against him…how the fur just neath his eyes…
My breath hitched and faltered as that particular memory flittered through my consciousness and I recalled again the moments we spent upon the rocks near Moonmoth. How he had allowed…indeed…encouraged…my fingers to find that fur and learn its texture…
I rubbed the pads of my fingers together at the memory, remembering all over again how I had…not disliked…his seeming assent…and again on our voyage here…how he had assented …had not been off put as I feared he would be…by the halting touch of a world worn Dunmer in need of…
"What…" I breathed, as Blatta edged close.
"What Serjo?" she replied.
"Do you want…" I snipped, correcting my verbal slip quickly, resenting the interruption on one level yet being thankful for it on another. Spending time indulging such…ridiculousness…entertaining the thought of being…drawn…to Khan…the way Ilmeni seems drawn to me…I physically shook myself again, rubbing my hands along my arms to feign a reaction to the cold. An admission of finding peace in my brother Jiitt's company was quite different to THAT I assured myself, justifying my continuing wish for his company and dismissing the ravaged whispers dwelling in my aching head in one swoop.
I turned to Blatta, my warring thoughts hidden away, and prompted her with the politest tilt of the head I could muster. Her scowl was ample enough proof that my attempt at levity had fallen flat.
"What is wrong with you Lomé?" she husked, pulling me further away from the camp and its edgy Jiitti occupant.
What is wrong indeed I groused internally, the echo of the though leaving my lips as a grumble before I caught myself and replied "As I told you, Demons…the mountain haunts me still Blatta." Her eyes softened ten fold but I waved off the concern and sidestepped the arms she offered me neatly, patting her shoulder briefly before noting "I neither want nor need sympathy. But request the remainder of the night's watch for myself. Solitude…" I sighed softly, aching deeply for Khan's familiar company in spite of my traitorous sensibilities and their habits of reading Jiitti companionship incorrectly.
"Solitude is my only balm…" A lie, I admitted to myself, but an apt one. Blatta nodded after a moment and I laid a hand to her shoulder as I murmured "See to Kara…I will keep my watch, as I promised. Tell him that for me please." Without hesitation she nodded, brushed her fingers to mine and turned, heading back into the camp. I held my breath for a count of ten after she settled again, letting it out in a muted huff and plopping unceremoniously down on the edge of the rocky outcropping that protruded from our campsite. It only rose five feet from the grassy expanses to the north, but it was space enough for an exasperated Mer to hang his legs down without bother.
There I remained, resigned to my vigil but not without some small measure of relief gained from the distance between myself and my companions.
Now I could think again, reason again and dismiss Khan's seeming acquiescence to my…indiscretions…as merely a product of Jiitti socialisation and social norms. To make quite clear that my reading such things into his reciprocations was entirely MY OWN fault and that he saw me as nothing more or less than a fellow Khajiitt.
"Yah even act laike wan" he'd proclaimed during our voyage. I actually began to chuckle at that, once again relieved that my reasoning left no room for doubt as to Khan and I and whatever I had once thought may have passed.
There was nothing to pass between us. Nothing but a shared past and a deeply empathic bond born of our respective circumstances. A simple cultural difference had irked my paranoia strewn mind. Nothing more.
The grumble of disquiet and the accompanying frown this conclusion drew from me were soothed before they came when a fat drop of rain landed upon my brow. I looked up at the black sky, at the clouds that darkened it all the more and prayed that the coming storm would pass quickly. Kara did not need anything further to worry him regarding his Dro's absence.
The air was fresh and light when the sun's light finally came upon our company. Dutifully I had not strayed from my post the whole night through, though wakefulness had fled for an hour or so just before the dawn broke. I know this for Kara's "DRO'KHAN!!" woke me just before his scuttling paws tore past and out into the rain.
Blatta knelt beside my bemused form a moment and chuckled as she watched the gangly youth almost knock his father off his paws in his haste. His frantic 'Where yah been aht!?" repeated again and again as he stepped in Khan's prints on his way towards the camp. My relief at his return wavered into concern for the moments he strode unaware of his voyeurs. His steps seemed laboured, deliberately slow to a degree the terrain and his agility did not warrant. His head was low, his ears back regardless of Kara's presence perched upon his shoulders and for the moment it took his regard to warm when he first noticed my presence, he looked like a man heading to the gallows.
Whether or not he saw my worry for him flit across my face I am unsure, but seemingly in response to it his posture changed, from troubled and unsure to the same prideful, calm Khan I was accustomed to.
"Are you well brother?" I finally asked after he had leapt from the plains, his fore and hind claws gripping the outcropping I then stood upon for purchase upon the slick surface.
"Yah" he answered, dislodging Kara as he shook his forepaws dry. Blatta's steaming tirade about he and I being as bad as one another when consideration for other's worries were concerned was ignored until the woman was practically on top of him. Myself and Kara roared with laughter as her "WHERE IN GOD'S NAME DID YOU GO?!?" ended in a most unladylike shrieking curse as Khan shook the remaining water from his fur and strode neath our shelter.
She stared after him, fuming silently, and accepted the dry sheet I held out to her with a grudging "S'wit Khajiitt", before following us back out of the rain. Khan settled where he had the night prior, close enough to the fire pit to soak up its warmth once lit, and received his affectionate son's purring nuzzles neath his chin as I selected our remaining dry wood and kindling and cast and controlled a Fire Bite spell upon it. Four attempts later the fire was set and I settled opposite Khan to stoke the flames and set our breakfast on to warm.
After a count of oddly tense minutes with nothing but Blatta's soft cursing, the rainfall and the crackling fire for ambiance I questioned my newly present brother as he fought Kara's jubilance into order.
"Where did the paths take you saa?" His eyes leapt to mine, almost as if he was shocked at my speaking to him. His regard again warmed as he replied:
"De ocean called meh…dare be Netch up near de shores ahn mys…couldn't bu' watch dem ah while…lost mahself in de naight…ya' un'erstand Sera…"
His tone, confident as it was, held an odd note of apology in it, though I attributed that to his knowledge of how his absence would have…and quite obviously had affected Kara. The boy in question was still trying to work his way neath Khan's chin, the older Jiitt turning his head to foil the effort.
"Oh I understand" I murmured, knowing from his gaze that he referred to my time by the border. "Letting the paws roam does not always lead us to where we expect hm?" He was about to speak when Blatta, newly dried, crouched by my side and rose her hands to the warmth.
"Should you wish" she said, her joviality easy despite Khan having soaked her mightily. "Our return to civilisation can take a route to the north before we head for the boat…" she gestured towards Kara as he nestled himself between Khan and the fire. "He would love to see the Netch you spoke of."
Kara's murmured "Rrrnhhh wassa Netch Dro?" brought a prideful smile to the larger Jiitt's face, his decision it seemed being nudged to the north by the boy's interest.
"Mys gonneh show ya Kara…git up naw, yah aint no Ja'Khajiitt" he sat up, catching Kara as he tumbled to the side with one large paw.
"Dis be our last day ahn naight 'ere ah tek it?"
I turned to Blatta who gestured for a moment to gather her charts. Once they were gathered and laid out where the rain could not get to them she plotted the course of the prevailing winds for the next seven days over the stretch of water which spanned our journey back to Balmora.
"I wouldn't risk waiting another three days" she murmured, using a flat rule and a kohl stick to tick off the wind's course.
"Trade through Zafirbel Bay comes up through another opening out to the ocean but the later we leave it, the more likely we will land on a trade day. Tirdas would be the most problematic, though, as I pointed out…" she drew another map close and indicated out route home.
"The winds will be difficult to navigate if these charts speak truly. And they have never lied to me in the past. To keep us safe from prying eyes I took us very close to the coast" she indicated Azura's coast. Kara pressed a paw over the spot he 'met' Azura before having it lifted away by his father.
"The winds" Blatta continued through a smile at the young Jiitt "will force us even closer as they head west. I doubt I can walk the line between the coastal route and the main trade routes safely. We would either end up smashed into the cliffs or ploughed under by a travelling trade hulk."
She nudged me, pointed to the bubbling stew pot on the fire and continued explaining our choices to Khan and Kara. I gave the mixture a firm stir before dividing it up into bowls for myself and Blatta. Kara, we knew from experience, would only take his after Khan had his share.
"So the north" she concluded, a murmured thank you given as I handed her the bowl and settled by her to listen "is either ventured to today, or it isn't and we save a few hours before heading south."
"How long will the return journey take?" I uttered after a sip, dodging Kara's wobbly steps as he followed Khan to the pot on the fire. "From the Netch to the boat." She rolled her eyes to the sky for a moment, doing a mental calculation.
"The best part of the day and night" she concluded. "If we are sparing with the stops…which we can be given how much fare we have to live on…"
Khan gave a snuffling laugh, the first real one I had heard him give since his return but remained silent otherwise. Focussing on the warm stew he was sampling. Blatta smirked at my confusion, explaining how she had jibed the Jiitt for his eating habits. "Yes, even with him around" another snuffle from Khan "I'm sure we will have enough…so…north?"
I took a considered sip from my own bowl, ignoring Blatta's knowing smile and its silently proclaimed 'you really are like them in ways'.
"Very well. North to the Netch before home."
Our remaining day and night in the Grazelands was spent travelling, first north, then directly south again back towards our grounded boat. My memory of it is sepia and patchy but I recall certain splashes better than others.
The sight of Khan, the rain still pouring about he and his jubilant ward, rearing up on his hind paws, Kara standing upon his shoulder as he tried to reach for the Netch that floated just out of his grasp.
Kara's garbled explanations of what it felt like when they passed over him "Laike ahlla de airs be teken fram mah bady!" he'd laughed "Ahn ahlla mah furs forced ta stand up ahn ends!"
How the rain water washed in torrents down the cobbled paths we took to after Tel Vos disappeared behind us. We steered away from travelling the wilds on the way back south, if only to keep Kara from wanting to hunt again. Thankfully there were no traders walking our way and the bandits that had their outposts dotted across the pastures were deterred by the inclement weather.
As the pastures fell away behind us and the lands darkened once more into dusk and then night, our band kept all the proximity we could to one another. Kara and Blatta were forcibly set between Khan and myself and we led them, guided by Khan's sharp eyes and Blatta's maps, down through the Foyada that connected the Grazelands to the Ash wastes. Instinct told me that as soon as we could we should make a break for the shore, but the danger of Dreugh attacks, even in the shallows was not to be risked. Instead we maintained a steady pace along the outer edges of the hills dotting the coast, far enough from the groaning Dwemer towers to keep Blatta's fear of Vampires at bay, but not close enough to the shore to incite the predators that lurked just beneath the murky depths.
We were lucky. Only one of the many Cliff Racers that shadowed our steps got close enough to cause us worry and even he, disorientated as he was by the rain and the nearby mage tower on the Uvrith Plain, fell quickly to Blatta's bow. In the panic caused by the sudden attack Kara's attempt at darting for the cover of the shore had to be forcibly stopped by Khan, and as he worked to ease the youth's fear Blatta and I gave the downed Racer a cursory glance.
"Male again" she muttered, the backwards facing spine on the beasts head the only physiological indicator of sex visible on its body. "Every one of them I've come across in recent months has been male…I've no idea of the species reproductive habits but this seems counterintuitive to me…"
"A single male and many females would have greater potential for reproduction" I noted, kneeling a moment by the Racer's head. Its eyes were nearly completely scabbed over and Blatta grimaced as I pointed them out.
"A form of Blight" I noted, disgust in my voice.
"He's better of dead then…" Blatta muttered, tugging on my sleeve to get us moving again. "Come on Lomé…the boat lies just ahead and I'll need you and Khan to get her afloat again for me." Khan, standing on his hind paws as he was a few feet from the Racer, Kara restrained to his chest, met Blatta's eyes and nodded in silent agreement. "Wolk boy" he instructed as he set his trembling ward down. It was the last we spoke until the boat was reached.
Lucky for us it had barely been disturbed in our absence. Had it been seen by others as they passed in their ships it had appeared innocuous enough not to draw further investigation.
Our excursion, I concluded with great relief, remained private to us.
The boat lay slightly upon one side and we cleared the branches and tarps from it quickly. Khan helped Blatta aboard as I checked the uppermost side of the hull for cracks or other damage, running my fingers along every seam I could see and thankfully, but for a little loose hemp here and there, it was unblemished.
Our checks complete, Khan and I put our weight into easing the boat from the shore. To keep it as level as possible Khan was the first to be allowed to board. His once voiced fears of sinking the little craft should he leap aboard were, thankfully proven unfounded and but for Blatta's cursed blue streak at the mess his claws made of her bulkhead, his ascent was troubleless. Kara's was a little unsteady, Khan having to lean over and snatch him by the scruff of the neck as he clambered up the rope ladder Blatta provided and my own, blessedly quick as we meandered away from the shore.
Our captain soon had us each a task to complete. I, as I did at the start of our voyage, was to scale the mast and rig the sails. Blatta took point and instructed Kara at the rudder. Her patience with him seemed to have risen thanks to Khan's return and her soft 'Left Ja…that's it a little more…now right…" underscored the beginnings of our return south. I wondered from my perch atop the mast at how she had the gall to say I was becoming more Jiitti in my ways when she too took on certain vagaries herself. No matter how correct she may have been in pointing it out, it irked me just slightly to know that she thought me a mimic.
I shook the thought away as I finished my task, hooking the top pulley to the mast and descending quickly. Khan, his task being to sort the tarps into order, approached me then, a corner of the sail caught in his teeth.
"Sethra..." he muttered around the fabric, holding it up for me and I took it with a chuckle, attaching it to the rope I had run through the top pulley and hauling it aloft.
"We mek de same tahme ahs our trip aht 'ere?"
"I'd imagine so" I replied, tying the line off and turning to face Khan as he spoke. He watched the sail slowly unfurl in the wind, then turned to watch Blatta guiding Kara at the rudder.
"Fergiveness fer leavin' eem wid ya" he murmured after a pause. His eyes, when they returned to me were shielded again, uneasy somehow. I flicked a glance up towards our crew mates, found them preoccupied and knelt quietly at Khan's side as he spoke again, more to himself than to me, his eyes now resolutely downcast.
"Meant nat ta fallow de…de Netches yah? Jus lost mah mind in de ocean ah while…too big ah while…"
"It was no crime Khan" I spoke as carefully as I could. "You know as well as I do how…seductive these lands can be to the senses. He was just worried for you is all…we all were. A warning next time perhaps?" Though my tone was jovial he seemed to almost wince as I spoke, a forced snuffle leaving his lips.
"Pramise yah dat" he murred before trying to walk away. His seeming dismissal of my concern incensed me for a moment and I reached and caught the crook of his arm in my hand before I'd thought through precisely what it was about his aloofness I was incensed by. To my surprise he stood rigid when my hand touched him, despite being more than able to break free without bother, and fixed his eyes on the stern of the boat as the silence stretched between us. Composing words and reasons quickly I spoke:
"Khan…"
I got no reply but for the flick of an ear and a deep breath that rumbled ominously through his chest. Not to be deterred I tried again.
"Khan, what troubles you brother?" I edged my way around him so I settled in his line of sight. "Truly, you did us no disservice by…"
"Tis notin' Lomé" he interrupted, his eyes animate again, his gaze fixed on me. "Mys…antsy abou' returnin' is ahll…means goin' back ta de troubles…de Lamps…" He husked the last two words, keeping them from Blatta's ears out of propriety and all of a sudden his need to run the wilds alone, if only once before we left them, made sense to me. My huff of relief was met by one of his own, a small smile curving his lips as he sat on the deck, his claws extended to grip as a swell made the boat pitch.
"I know it seems the end of a fragile peace Khan…but we will go there again" I assured him, holding his gaze. He gave a slight nod then inclined his head, his eyes betraying the familiar blend of confidence and curiosity I had come to associate with him. "Yah tink so nh? Even wid de troubles camin?"
"Oh I think so" I replied, genuine warmth lacing my tone. "It pleases me to know you found some measure of peace there."
"Ohh Saa yah gahts no idea!" he enthused, relaxing as he set about detailing all of the memories he planned to recount for Jali and the rest of his family on our return.
As it often does while travelling, the day passed us quickly by. Khan and Kara spent most of it huddled neath the tarps draped over the boat's stern, keeping out of sight of the trader's boats that clipped past us on their way to Sadrith Mora. Blatta and I made the executive decision, given the winds increasing speed, to steer clear of the coastal paths all together.
There would have been too great a danger of a collision with the cliffs had we maintained our past course.
Instead we kept to the well travelled trade paths between the southern end of Zafirbel Bay, further out and through the deeper waters until we crested Azura's coast at roughly 8 past midday. After a brief conference at the chart ledge our Captain and I plotted the coming leg of our voyage, adjusted the sail to carry us on course and settled together at the bow to light the lamps. I held Blatta by the waist as she leant to reach to topmost lamp, glancing over to the stern in time to see Khan assisting Kara in a similar manner. The whippet slender Ja was caught by his attentive Dro, the taper used to light the lamps blown out between them before Kara's clawed paw falls approached us.
"Done naw missy Blatta!" he chirped, holding out the taper for her to take.
"Thank you young Sera" she beamed, leaning around my shoulder, accepting the taper and reaching to properly close the last lamp before giving my neck a pat in lieu of asking to be put down.
"Now then" she said as I set her on her feet. "Come with me Ja…I've a job for you." The youth nearly crowed with glee at the responsibility he foresaw coming his way and let his Captain lead him to the chart ledge. Their conversation was muted thanks to the distance between us, but I caught whispers of bearings and directions as I made my way towards the stern and its steaming tea urn. Khan had been tending it, before Kara needed help in reaching the lights, and was reclining near by neath the tarp with a high sided bowl of the spiced brew.
Fending off the chill I thought, pulling the sleeves of the shirt I wore down from my elbows as I approached and knelt by the antique looking copper coloured container.
"S'ot sera…ahv care" the supine Jiitt purred over the steady push of the sea against our craft. For all his earlier unease, it seemed that Khan had finally found his proverbial footing again, his smile warm as he watched me watch him before turning his gaze back to the ocean. I forced myself to halt a thorough contemplation of his profile and turned with concerted focus to the urn and the small cups around it. They looked, like their companion, to be plated with copper and I filled one and sipped from it before rising and joining Khan in staring out over the ocean.
I could just make out the hazy glow cast by Tel Branora in the distance. The lights on the tower were orange…those in the bay blue…but other than those rather esoteric observations, I could tell little of the settlement as we past it.
"East soon…yah?"
"Hmm?" I turned to Khan, expecting him to be looking at me, but was met by his profile again, his eyes on the ocean still.
"East soon" he repeated, nodding towards the distant glow. "Cahn smell Telvanni fram 'ere…east soon, past de Isles…den 'ome…" There was relief in his voice as he spoke, and in his eyes as he turned to me and favoured me with a grin.
"Mys no de way fram Kara…learnin' ta love de charts is dat boy…" he lapped a little of his tea from the bowl near his paws before speaking again. I drew nearer as he did, cupping my own helping in my hands as I knelt to better listen. "Mys 'ope 'gainst 'ope ee don' end up wantin' ta be wat Blatta be…wat de word fer 'er job Sera?"
"She is a skipper…a tradesman and a skipper"
"Skip...per…raight, 'ope ee don' wanna be dat samday…mys only jus' learnin' eem ta 'unt, let ahlone…mowa den dat." He snuffled softly with amusement as I drew from my cup, the wind choosing its moment to howl and toss the hair I knew I should have restrained into my face. The snuffling remained as I sputtered and cursed along with a shift and two soft pats. "Cam 'ere ehlf" he said, indicating a space neath the tarp.
"De winds don' reach neath 'ere too much…cahn see de ocean good too ifen ya lean ahliddle." Not one to decline the promised safety I hurried to fill the space he'd provided, deposited my now half empty cup of tea next to his bowl and shook my tousled pelt into place.
"Thank you" I managed once all was in order, his answering "Yah welcome Se…" cut off by a chuckle.
"You know my name by now Khan" I chided, sipping from my cup as he did his bowl.
"Ah do aht dat" he replied jovially, licking the moisture from his lips as he looked out to the ocean again. I pointedly ignored the gesture and focussed on waiting for him to speak. "It be ah col' naight dis…Lomé…yah gonneh live trew yah watch? Begins soon nh? Yah gaht de first or did mys nat 'ear raight?"
"You're right" I grumbled, not bothering to hide my discontent. Four and one half hours perched on the bow pleased not even the most sea worthy Mer. "I shall endure though. The waters south of the Isles are quiet, their trade conducted on land as it is. We will have little bother." I gulped the remaining tea down swiftly, excused myself from Khan's company, snagged a blanket from neath the tarps and took to my post on the bow, Blatta's murmured instructions to Kara still soft on the air as I settled astride the vessel's pointed nose.
"Nine bells" Blatta told me. I waved my understanding and kept my eyes on the horizon. Nine past midday. Four and one half hours to wait away. I sighed into the air, watched my breath mist as we made our way and settled into my appointed role.
I sorely hoped that my lack of rest the previous night would not catch up with me before my watch ended.
It was two past midnight by the time I realised my watch was running long. Shaking off the layer of moisture clinging to my clothing, I forced my half frozen body into motion and limped stiffly to the chart table and our, very much asleep, captain.
"Rouse yourself woman" I grumbled, nudging the Imperial into wakefulness.
"Wuht?" she groused, scrubbing at her face with a hand and glaring up at me half blind.
"Two past the midnight hour Blatta. Your watch now." I pointed to the bow with unconcealed glee at her mortification.
"Oh but Serjo…" she whined as she hauled herself upright, her pleas falling on deaf ears.
"I would apologise" I noted, handing her the blanket I had purloined before my watch began. It was wet and heavy with dew. "But you kept my watch going longer than it needed to."
"By one half an hour!"
"Regardless" I waved off her pleas and limped my way towards the tea urn and the warmth I prayed it still held, Blatta's grumbling the only real noise onboard but for my footsteps and Kara's even breathing neath his tarp. When I reached the urn I knelt slowly, the ache in my limbs from being so still for so long flaring then dying slowly away. Though the burner neath it was only set low, my fingertips came back warm when I pressed them to its copper side and I felt a little flare of joy in response to this, smallest of mercies. At least, it seemed, my lot was not to freeze to death just yet.
A cup was collected, the urn's tap depressed, the steaming liquid decanted through a small cloud of steam. I savoured the warmth as I took a mouthful, my eyes wandering over the stern and stopping suddenly, shocked for some reason to see the dim light cast by the burner reflected by a very familiar pair of amber eyes.
"...You're awake...", I whispered, dumbly stating the obvious as his whiskers moved with a chuff, his breath misting in the deep blackness enveloping our vessel, the edges of which may as well have marked the edges of our world...nought could be seen beyond them but the odd rippling reflection of lamp light on the water. Holding his steady gaze I drew from my cup again, the tangy spice of the tea just as welcome to my palate as its warmth was to my bones. He remained wordless, simply watching me watch him for a long moment...and then, slowly, deliberately, tilted is head just a fraction to the left, his eyes flicked briefly to the space by his side...a wordless call to share his company.
Silently I got on my knees and shuffled under the tarp, settling in the same space he had allowed me before my jaunt in the bitterness. When he finally did speak his voice was low, considerate of his slumbering son's proximity and he stared across the far bulkhead, out over the ocean. "Mys wan fer de eves...de quiet ahn...ahn de stars..." He turned to me as I shifted, easing an ache from my thigh.
"Yah froze nh?" he chuckled, leaning to nudge my nearest knee gently with a paw. "Dey still pain yah...even naw?"I huffed indignantly, absurdly jealous of the warmth that paw had been privy too all night and waved off his concern. "Old wounds you mean? Perhaps, but I shall endure it, brother." I paused a moment, looked out across the deck then back to Khan. "It reminds me, to some small degree, that those trials are through..."
I caught the flash of empathy in Khan's eyes before they warmed once more as he spoke "Eva yah fergit 'gain...eva ya lookin' fer red skies gain" a soft chuff of laughter "remember dat ache nh?" another gentle nudge for my knee from his paw before it was neatly folded over its twin.
"And now you taunt me" I grumbled good-naturedly, the steaming tea drawn from deeply, my sigh of comfort at the heat unfettered.
"Mayhaps in small measures" he chortled, his breath misting in the air as mine had when his smile widened at the indignant glare I gave him over the rim of my cup.
"It is easy for you to be amused, having spent the night basking here in the convenient warmth of your teapot...Were I less noble" I jibed, the hand holding my cup used to gesture at his reclining form and the softly purring lump of Suthay-Raht behind him "I would inflict the ice in my bones upon you and yours." His eyes widened for a moment before he succumbed to laughter. Tightly held in laughter, granted, but I could not let the roll I seemed to be on die.
"All is well" I continued, gesturing now to the hammock Blatta had tied into the rigging. "I go to my grave now. You shall wake on the morrow to find me frozen in the ropes." I went to rise, but found myself tugged unceremoniously back down by a paw. I stared at it, and its owner in awe for a moment, reminded suddenly of just how powerful he is before he spoke.
"Lomé…" he seemed to purr "…yah aint no noble."
I held his gaze in silence…blinked…blinked again…felt myself relax and let a…too…fond smile curve my lips before settling back against his flank. True he had not explicitly offered it…true he tensed just slightly as I reclined, but that was the product of movement, not stress…true, most likely I was to wake cursing myself to Oblivion, for surely my mind would read liberties into a simple gesture of Jiitti companionship and cause me to, again, feel mistrust and confusion towards him. A gesture, I knew, that was born of brotherhood and kinship, nought more.
But Gods did it feel...right...like some once held, then lost morsel of familiarity was kindled between us again.
Gods was he warm.
Gods you're sick to covet him so the sensibilities snipped as my waking mind melted away into sleep.
Gods…I groused mentally…let me be til the morn.
I woke the coming morning in increments. It was light. I knew that much without opening my eyes for the light found a way through their lids. I was warm too. Laying against something that was breathing…Khan…I caught myself before the anticipated flash of panic gripped me and forced myself to remain relaxed.
You're safe I reminded myself. Sick, yes, but safe with him. He knows not your broken delusions and means you no ill. Relax…the time you will shortly spend with Ilmeni will surely set you to rights…find rest while you can…
Thus I remained, half asleep, half awake, for what must have been minutes before turning my head to the side and opening my eyes a crack. The shadow of the tarp fell over me thankfully, and I could see he whom I reclined against clearly in the comparative dim.
Still sleeping it seems…I mused as his even breathing rocked me slowly. The fur on his flank was just as inviting and lush as I blearily recalled it being from my night on my terrace in Balmora and, only half unconsciously, I turned my cheek against it to sample the contrast in textures between the long outer coat and the downy under one.
…Yes…just as I remem…
"Marnin Varine' Ri!"
Snapped from my muzzy contemplations by Kara's jubilant greeting, I threw myself upright and clung to the first thing my hands encountered.
Blatta. Cold, grousing Blatta who was glaring at me viciously.
"So the mock wasn't to your taste hm?" she seethed, pointing to the disused hammock swinging in rhythm to the boats gentle pitching.
"I..." I sputtered, the panic I'd pushed away returning until Khan, wakened by his son's voice spoke "Well naw missus, ee aint no noble yah see…let eemself freeze mys ahn Kara 'alf ta deat' ahll naight…no manners in dis wan…" He rose from behind me, taking the warmth I'd so coveted with him, nudged my shoulder with his muzzle on the way past and offered Blatta his bed.
"Settle Blatta…rest fer de marn…where we be aht naw?"
I scrambled to my feet as they faced off, Blatta's want for rest finally winning out over her misplaced ire about my sleeping arrangements.
"The wind is low Khan…died away at four past midnight" she muttered as she stepped around me, over the still crouching Kara and plopped down in the warm pool of tarps Khan had vacated for her. "It is five past now. We crested the Ebonheart isthmus about half an hour ago." The Jiitt she spoke to nudged his son into action as Blatta curled onto her side, the youth collecting up a blanket and laying it over her, patting her shoulder.
"Mys watch" Khan promised, stepping back to let Kara wobble past "We ahn course naw? Need to change direction afore de Odai?" Blatta shook her head, her tired smile thanking Khan for his gallantry.
"At least someone on this boat has manners" she drawled, curling herself up in the blanket as Khan urged my spitting form away to let her rest.
"Easy Lomé" he chuckled, nudging the small of my back to keep me moving aft before giving a long, very feline stretch as his muscles woke up. "Won tek too lang ta reach 'ome naw…mayhaps ta de evenin'…go check de maps Kara…bu' no langer." I dodged out of the gangly youth's path as he hobbled to the chart ledge, collected a kohl stick and tapped at the course Blatta had plotted.
"Wake 'er wen wes reach 'ere?" he murmured as I moved past, stretching the night's rest out of my back. I looked over his shoulder, noted where his paw lay over Seyda Neen.
"That will give her ample time to rest, yes" I agreed, giving the Ja's shoulder a quick nudge as I moved to settle at the bow. The horizon was still flat…no small islands dotting a neared coast…to the right Ebonheart's towers rose imposingly out of the water. The Duke himself would be behind those walls. The soldiers surrounding him inevitably becoming all the more aware of the trouble brewing in Cyrodiil.
As Khan and Kara bustled about the chart table I turned my gaze back to the horizon before me. The flat line of ocean. The last vestige of my excursion…our excursion away from the panic surrounding the impending war.
I thought suddenly of Caldera. Dahleena and those who she spoke of as 'mah pehpol'. I had promised Larris that I would speak to the Duke personally. I had promised to keep the Redoran nobles informed of every move we made. There were whispers…no…not whispers…truths told about mercenaries being brought in to safeguard the remaining slaves. Much as Larris swore the Legion could take care of them, I knew that they walked in the Duke's colours.
I would have to go to him sooner than planned. I needed him on side before Caldera fell apart. It would be the only way to protect the slaves that fled there from being hunted down by the mercs…as Dahleena feared they would be.
As Kara had promised to, he woke Blatta just as Seyda Neen came into view on the starboard side. Being so far out from shore I could not recognise anyone specific, though the general bustle that surrounded the shacks nearest the water, the to-ing and fro-ing that marked the end of a busy Morndas market day was obvious. Our path was followed further north from the Neen's banks, around a small rocky island, then pitched east as we sluiced past the Odai's widely gaping mouth.
Land was made just as the sun began to set. Blatta and I remained aboard a while after Khan and Kara departed for their home, the satchels of cooked and cured meat hanging heavy and full from their respective jaws and forepaws. We spoke of many things, our peace having been made over tea an hour previous, and even bid the captain of a passing transport ship heading down from hal Oad good evening as his vessel cut through the waves on his way back to Ebonheart.
Despite our ease however, I remained evasive regarding my sudden need to ferry both myself and a pair of Khajiitt half way across the island at such short notice.
"I am no fool Lomé" she proclaimed as we sat in state at the chart ledge. The boat was moored loosely where we had begun our trip. It rolled easily, fluidly as we conversed. "Things are moving on Vvardenfell. I know it better than you think…guards' lips are loose for the sailors, you know that."
"Working with your wiles Blatta…Helviane will be proud of you…"
"Oh Vith to you man! There are none who could afford me." She sat forward, her eyes intent. Mine, laughing. "Shall I tell her to expect you Sera?"
I mimicked her posture, and her words "There are none who could afford me. What have you heard from the guards?"
"Whispers Sera…" she husked softly "of some problem with slaving on the mainland. Whispers concerning Khajiitt…and you…and Lamps."
I sat back in my chair, eyeing her very, VERY carefully. My trust in Blatta was great before our journey to the Grazelands. Now, I considered her a friend and ally. More than worthy of confidence.
"I even hear that the Duke himself has ears out for what I've heard. He knows things…what things I don't know, but he knows them! It is from his doorstep that the merkies walk. His coffers they are paid from. His brother…" she paused as I tensed visibly at Orvas' mention.
"His brother who places the most orders Sera."
"How do you know that?" I pressed, suspicious suddenly of the depth of her knowledge. She snorted with laughter. "Mathesa Helvi." At my confused frown she elaborated.
"Helvi is a frequent visitor to Ebonheart. She divides her time between the Inn and the Duke's doorstep, forever trying to worm her way into his favour on the back of her passing acquaintance with Orvas."
"She…works for him then I take it?"
"Oh yes Serjo. She is infamous amongst the guards for being brackish at ungodly hours. Favours the Shein a little too much on occasion and enjoys running her mouth" another derisive snort "Thinks she's untouchable." Blatta shook her head slowly, her eyes on mine.
"She's not. The Duke has no time for her and Orvas? A…callow fall back at best. The jealous second son of his mother, destined walk in the shadow of his brother."
"That is all well and good, but what has she to do with mercenaries?"
"Ah, yes the point of my tirade!" a soft chuckle "Her visits have been increasingly frequent recently and whenever she passes, mercs are not far behind. They appear on the outskirts at night, to keep back from the guards and their broadswords, but I've seen them. And so have others. They, I'm guessing, head to the Plantations and…" She paused then, looking at me critically. "Forgive me Serjo" she murmured, nudging my once discarded tea cup towards me "I am not saying what I mean to."
"So speak" I prompted, ignoring the offered cup.
"I…" she toyed with the rim of my cup, running her fingers along it as she thought through her answer. "The family Dren is kept afloat by the slave trade. The world knows that Serjo. All of Vvardenfell does and it is no taboo. However…" another little tap for the cup "lately they have found reason to be nervous…hence Helvi and her visits and the…reinforcements that appear on the north road between Ebon and the Isles."
The pause that passed between us then was pregnant. Neither dropped the other's stare. "Blatta" I began, leaning forward again to better see her in the slowly gathering dark. I nudged my cup towards her, the distraction easing a little of the tension that had descended as we spoke.
"You are still speaking around what you are trying to tell me…what is it you think you know?" She took a breath, wetted her lips and looked across the boat's deck before catching my gaze again.
"You're freeing them aren't you…the slaves. That's why you had to take the…the Jiitt to the Grazelands. Their owners are looking for…" I reached, cupped her chin and pushed her mouth closed before she could finish her sentence. Her glare was eased by the "Sshhh" that followed my actions and I dropped my hand away once she nodded her agreement to a moment of silence.
"That is your opinion" I murmured carefully, nodding as she did "What do you know Blatta? Factually. What do you know?"
"The question Sera" she breathed. I struggled to keep the mirth addled worry from my face as I rasped:
"Have you seen the Twin Lamps?"
Her reply was so considered, so thought-out and tense that she trembled as she spoke it. "They light the way to freedom"