"Hold on now, Bryn," exclaimed Delvin. "I hate to have to say this to you but you can't just go running off into the blue after her. You have responsibilities here, and if Mercer isn't going lead this guild that duty falls on you."

"Look, I understand what you're saying but if she tries to wheedle information out of Gulum-ei like this, she's going to get herself killed," Brynjolf replied. "I have to bring her back Delvin. This guild needs her...I need her."

"Aye," Delvin relented. "But you'd better start picking up some slack around here or it'll be Maven on your ass instead of a kind old man like me."

"Speaking of Maven, someone still needs to head to Solitude to shake down Gulum-ei. If we don't find the buyer of Goldenglow Estate she'll have all our hides. Can you fill in Vex while I'm gone?"

"As long as you buy me a drink when this is all over," chuckled Delvin.

Brynjolf wasted no time leaving Riften, if Liette was two hours out of the city on horseback he'd have a hard time catching up. He thought it more likely that she'd hired a carriage however, she was in no shape for riding. If he pushed on he figured he'd catch up to her by midday.

Anger, confusion, and concern were all fighting for dominance inside of him, when he did find her she would have some explaining to do.

She had been hoping the swaying motion of the carriage would lull her to sleep but it only made her more nauseous. She was leaning over the side and retching up her meager breakfast when she heard steady hoofbeats coming up the road from the south. Lifting her head and gazing out she thought she could see a single horse and rider closing in.

Her stomach dropped at the thought that Brynjolf had followed her and she tensed, prepared for his anger and hurt.

But the rider closed in and no one called out to her. She could see now that it wasn't Brynjolf on his dappled gray mare, it was a young man on an old piebald horse. He passed the carriage, calling out a greeting to the driver and went on his way. Liette sighed in relief and slumped down in her seat, falling into a fevered sleep.

The morning had worn on and Brynjolf hadn't seen another soul on the road. He had known the war was keeping people from travelling but if things were this bad it was no wonder the guild was falling apart. Thieves could only thrive as long as the legitimate business continued. He sighed, pushing his worries about the guild to the back of his mind, he knew he'd have to deal with them upon his return to Riften but right now he was more worried about the task at hand.

As he rode on he came to a washout in the road, the stone had been worn away and there in the mud were fresh marks. It was clear that a carriage or cart had passed this way recently and he took it as a sign. He spurred his horse to greater speed, hoping he was gaining ground.

Despite his haste it was late afternoon before he sighted the carriage, he called out as he got close, hailing the driver.

"Oy, Sigaar! Hold there," he shouted.

The driver checked the horse and turned around to see who was shouting to him.

"Brynjolf? What are you doing all the way out here?"

"I came for her," Brynjolf replied, gesturing to Liette. She was slumped over on the carriage seat, she hadn't so much as stirred when he had shouted.

"I'm taking her back to Riften, she's in no condition to travel," he stated, throwing a small purse of coins to Sigaar. "For your trouble."

Brynjolf climbed off his horse and hopped into the back of the carriage.

"Lass?" He shook her gently but she didn't wake. He touched her face, her skin was fevered and clammy.

"Sigaar, help me get her on the horse," ordered Brynjolf, his concern growing with every passing moment. The driver scoffed a bit but didn't complain, he knew better than to get on the bad side of the guild. Once Liette was in the saddle Brynjolf mounted up behind her and wrapped his arm securely around her waist. He kicked the horse into a trot and headed for the city.

It was past dark when Brynjolf finally made it back to Riften. Liette had been awake briefly as they dismounted but she didn't seem to know where she was or what was going on. He had tried to help her walk to the gates but she seemed too unsteady on her feet so he scooped her into his arms and she was asleep again in a few moments.

He took her straight into the Temple of Mara, shouting for Maramal.

"You had better be here you good for nothing priest!"

The priest in question appeared from around a corner, bleary eyed and in a sleeping robe.

"Oh for the love of Mara," he muttered. "What is it this time Brynjolf?"

"She's fevered and she won't wake," Brynjolf replied thickly, worry creeping into his voice.

Maramal directed him to lay her down on a bed and fetch water. Any other time he would have scoffed about taking orders from the priest, but his concern for Liette made him swallow his sarcastic remarks.

When Brynjolf returned from his task Liette's sleeping form was heaped with blankets, it seemed that Maramal intended to sweat the fever out of her.

"Is that all you can do for her?" Brynjolf questioned hesitantly.

"It would seem so. She needs to rest quietly until her fever breaks, I would not be unduly concerned, it doesn't appear to be too serious," answered Maramal.

Relief washed over Brynjolf like the touch of cool water. But with the ebbing of his worries for her health came resentment. When she woke there would be hard questions, he just hoped he could stomach the answers.

He left her there at the temple under the care of Maramal and his acolytes and with every step his anger grew. By the time he made it back underground he was in serious need of a drink. But it seemed that the world was not in an accommodating mood. As he emerged into The Ragged Flagon he came face to face with Mercer Frey, and the absentee guildmaster was not pleased.