Chapter 36: High Society
The sea-side city of Anvil sprawled before us as Caroline and I crested the last hill on the Gold road, the red rooftops within the walled city glowing and the Abecean beyond glittering in the low afternoon sun.
Caroline was in the lead on Ebony, and directed us away from the main road, toward the left of the citadel. We were to make straight for the castle. My hope was that we could prepare ourselves swiftly, and meet with Countess Umbranox for supper, provided that she was available for an audience on short notice. Otherwise, we would spend the night in the castle, and take breakfast with her, where I would tell her about the Oblivion gate we had just closed, and offer to close any others concerning her, in exchange for a commitment that a portion of her soldiers to be sent at once to Bruma.
I was certain she would be eager to assist. I had known Countess Millona Umbranox since I was a young child, and had for a time called her aunt Milly, at her request. She had been on friendly terms with my mother, and I had happy memories of taking holidays in the pleasant city, several times a year, before the Count had disappeared. Count and Countess Umbranox had been kind and happy, and patient of me, and more inclined to allow me to roam with a steward in tow than keep me under permanent and watchful eye. My mother, with her desires to remain in the Countess' favour, had always allowed such expeditions.
Nobody knew what had happened to the Count, ten years earlier. One day he had been there, presiding over his region and, for all anyone knew, happy in his relationship with his wife, and the next, he had vanished.
I remembered when the news had reached us in Skingrad; I had been eight at the time. My mother was convinced that he had been murdered, and had used the report to try and further her own position; offering grievances and counsel to the Countess, being a widower herself. But the Countess wouldn't have it; insisting that her husband was alive. Word had it that to this day she behaved as though the Count being missing wasn't such a great deal, and acted as though he was merely away on business. We had not visited often, after he had disappeared, and soon enough after, I was betrothed and living in the City.
I frowned as I tried to picture the Count as I'd last remembered seeing him, but was unable to recall anything specific about his face or manners. Perhaps it had simply been too long, and I had seen too much since then, to remember him with any degree of detail.
Castle Anvil was a welcome sight, as Caroline and I guided our horses around the wall and caught our first glimpse of the fortress on its island in the bay. It was a much prettier castle than those in Skingrad and Kvatch; far more welcoming, and the architecture was sympathetic to that within the city; all warm grey stone and red roof tiles. Red and black banners bearing the Anvil sigil were hanging either side of the large doorway, and even larger banners trailed down from the front turrets, flapping gently in the sea breeze.
Before long, we had crossed the short bridge leading to the castle and been admitted. A pair of Anvil guards in full regalia showed Caroline and I across the small, tidy courtyard within, while another took our horses and set back off across the bridge, leading them to the Anvil stables. The sun was low enough to cast a pink hue over the bricks within the courtyard and deepen the purples of the peony flowers that had been planted in neat, ordered clusters within.
The Great Hall was empty, as it was too late in the day to address the Countess at court, but I was glad for it. Still dressed in the armour Kvatch had gifted me and the clothing I had trained in that morning and then rushed through Oblivion in, I expected I did not present the pretty picture that the Countess would expect me to.
One of the guards who had escorted us bowed and left, saying they would fetch somebody to attend to us, and shortly after he returned with a young Breton woman wearing an array of green-hued linens, whose smiling face and freely-flowing blonde hair reminded me again that Anvil was more laid-back than the other cities of Cyrodiil. My mother, or Countesses Valga or Caro for that matter, would have fired any female member of their household who wore her hair unbound.
"Greetings, my Lady," she stopped before me and bowed in a way that told me she was a servant, not a steward. "I am Beatrice," she introduced, and rose, her pale blue eyes flickering over my general appearance, though her voice betrayed no hint of disapproval. "It is a pleasure to welcome you to Castle Anvil."
"Hello," I smiled automatically, dimly wishing that somebody who would have remembered my visits as a child had met us, instead. But, it did not truly matter; Beatrice seemed pleasant enough. "I am happy to be welcomed," I added.
Beatrice seemed satisfied, and carried on. "The Countess is currently indisposed, however she is being made aware of your arrival at this moment, and an apartment has been made available for your visit," she indicated that we follow her further into the Great Hall, toward the throne. I knew from my childhood visits that we were being lead to the staircase behind it, which lead up to the private rooms within the castle.
"Wonderful," I replied warmly, following. Caroline was a step behind me.
It was quite interesting, I thought as we walked, how I was received in Anvil, compared to the reception we had received at Skingrad. But then, I reasoned to myself, Countess Umbranox was far more sociable than Count Hassildor, so was naturally better prepared to take guests.
The room Beatrice lead Caroline and I to was gorgeous. I marvelled at the lines of the arched, vaulted ceiling, at the centre of which hung a chandelier that, despite being made of iron and chains, managed to look elegant amongst the stonework.
White lace curtains lined the many tall windows, all of which were drawn back to frame a variety of vistas. I noted that the sun had set, and the sea was indigo, drifting underneath a darkening sky, which was slashed with pink clouds. One of the openings lead to a small, neat balcony, on which a table and a few chairs sat. In the middle of the room was a finely-made wooden bed, which was both framed by and covered in bed dressings made again of white lace, as seemed to be the theme of the room. The dresser and wardrobe were made of the same wood as the bed, and to my relief, I noticed a large white bathtub through an open adjoining doorway. It would be wonderful to have a proper bath.
"It is beautiful," I told Beatrice, seeing no reason to hide my pleasure in the room. I turned to the serving girl. "Please thank Countess Umbranox for her gracious hospitality."
Beatrice bowed a little, the smile on her lips betraying an amused tilt. "Only the finest will do, for the Hero of Kvatch," she told me.
For the first time since I had been called by that name, I didn't flush.
Caroline came to a halt beside me; she had been pacing the room since we had entered, checking the security, I supposed, and her appearance made me remember what we were doing in Anvil.
"Do you know when the Countess might be available for private audience?" I asked Beatrice. "Supper, if that would suit? I have an important matter to discuss with her."
Beatrice inclined her head. "I am sorry, Lady Passero, but the Countess has been caught up in a private matter all afternoon, and is hosting a dinner party tonight. And as you will be well aware, the Countess' parties do tend to carry on late into the night," Beatrice didn't wait for confirmation, and continued on. "Of course, a place is being set for you, as we speak, and the Countess will doubtlessly look forward to speaking with you forthwith," she gave me a hopeful smile. "You are to be seated quite close to her. Perhaps at dinner, you will find a moment to talk of your important matter?"
"Perhaps," I echoed and made sure I didn't sigh, as I doubted such a time would come to discuss so serious a matter, during a party.
Caroline spoke up finally; the first words she'd said since we'd entered the castle. "Would you have somebody bring me a guest list, of all the names of those attending tonight's party?" she asked.
Caroline's tone had been friendly enough, but I saw the confusion on Beatrice's face when she nodded. "As you wish. Is there anything else that you should need?"
After Caroline had arranged water be brought for the bath and food for the table, Beatrice left us to the apartment, and I moved outside, leaning on the balcony and looking out over the bay. The port, to my right, was still a hive of activity, with several ships in dock, and tiny lights dancing around the many jetties, reflected and twinkling in the dark water. Beyond port, the city was lit up even brighter; the wall itself creating a segment of darkness between the two brighter regions.
The thought that had struck me when we'd arrived in Skingrad came again, and I wondered how the cities could be so unaffected by the rise of the Oblivion gates? Perhaps it was simply that the Counts and Countesses had been keeping on top of the threat to their counties, as I had requested they do at the Elder Council meeting, so their people would be able to continue about their business as though there was still an Emperor on the throne and no imminent risk of being invaded by Mehrunes Dagon.
Shuddering, as my pleasure in being in Anvil was marred by these thoughts, I cast my eyes away from the busy port and city and instead, turned my eyes down to my armour, to begin unfastening the many buckles along the sides so I could shimmy out of it. If the Countess was hosting a party, and I was to attend, I needed to begin preparing.
Celebrations with the citizens of Kvatch was an entirely different matter to a dinner party with a Countess, regardless of how relaxed affairs were in Anvil. The sun had only recently set, which meant that it wasn't very late into the evening yet, and traditionally, dinner parties began at the eighth hour. This meant I had a mere two hours, if I was lucky, to be ready.
Caroline appeared by my side, to help with the buckles on my armour. I turned my eyes up to her, and saw that she was wearing a thoughtful expression, as though her mind was elsewhere, while her hands worked.
"What are you thinking?" I asked her gently.
Her grey eyes met mine, and she hesitated before admitting, "Nothing so much," she turned her eyes back to her work. "I am concerned that our business is being hindered by another social occasion, but I understand the necessity, and am otherwise enjoying the sea air," she deftly unfastened the buckles along one of my shoulders, before pausing and asking, "Are you all right, my Lady?"
I sighed, then admitted, "I don't know."
Fresh thoughts of Dagon's desire to invade and conquer, brought on by the apparent unpreparedness of Skingrad and Anvil to the war we were fighting, clouded my mind. I let my hands fall from the armour, since Caroline had it under control, and worked on unlacing the arm bracers instead. "I didn't anticipate a dinner party," I agreed with her. "But..." I tried to find words for what I was feeling. "Look at this," I nodded back to the busy port and city. "Do the people of Anvil look greatly affected by what is going on around Cyrodiil; the whole of Tamriel?" I asked her.
"Try not to despair," Caroline had finished unbuckling the armour, and asked me to raise my arms, which I did, and she replied as she lifted the silvery chainmail up and over my head. "It is simply the way of things," she laid the armour down carefully on the table behind us, then stepped up next to me, resting her arms on the edge of the balcony. "People don't like to think about war on their doorsteps, so they stubbornly carry on, as though it were not happening."
I turned to look at her, but she was looking down at the Abecean sea now, as it grew ever darker in the failing light.
I shook my head. "But Anvil could fall at any moment, just as Kvatch did and Bruma may."
"Yes," Caroline frowned a little, turning to face me. "Just as you or I could die tomorrow, or the day after. Does that mean we, and they," she nodded toward the city, "can't live today?"
"That isn't quite what I meant."
"I know, my Lady," her frown turned into a smile, and again I wondered at how she could be so bright. "But, who are we to judge how prepared Anvil is, at a glance? Perhaps you could ask the Countess, if you have an opportunity tonight, and that might lead you to discuss our reason for being here?" she pointed out.
Her reply, and our discussion, was cut short, I felt, as the door to our room opened, and a few servants entered with pails of steaming water. Caroline left to oversee the bath with them, and I turned back to look over Anvil, and determined that I would heed Caroline's words. Who knew what Countess Umbranox had in place with regards to the Oblivion gates? And who knew what opportunities the dinner party would offer to further our quest? Perhaps the occasion wouldn't be a complete waste of time. As my despondency waned, I resolved to find a way – any way – to discuss the retrieval of soldiers for Bruma with the Countess over the course of the night.
After a moment longer of watching the shifting scenery, as the sky darkened and the stars brightened, Caroline called me in and we began preparing for the Countess' dinner party.
–
It was good to be fresh and clean. The night was calm and the sea breeze brushed the skirts of my dress against my legs as we hurried down the romantically-lit hallways of Castle Anvil, to the dining hall.
For the first time since the Septim murders and my escape from the White-Gold Tower, I felt closer to the noble girl I had once been, and I found the notion a bizarre one. I wasn't certain whether to be pleased or concerned, and settled on switching between the two feelings. I had glanced over the list that Caroline had arranged with Beatrice to have delivered, and had recognised the majority of the names, by name only, which did not reassure me. As my information about them was based on hearsay and lessons, rather than acquaintance, so would their information be about me.
And who would the other guests be expecting to enter the room, when they saw me? Lady Passero, the girl who should have by now been a Septim? Or the Hero of Kvatch, who battled daedra? Certainly, I looked the part of the former, in a flowing, elegant cream dress, with its fitted overdress in shades of russet and edged in gold, with my hair neatly arranged into an intricate, woven braid around my head.
You are both Lady Passero and the Hero of Kvatch, I told myself, in an attempt to rally my courage. Whether they believe it to be true or not.
And what does their opinion truly matter, I added? The approval of those in the room, which would have at one time been of the utmost priority to me, was barely relevant under the circumstances. You are here for one reason only; to secure allies for Bruma.
I smoothed my hands down beside me and raised my head, slowing my pace as we entered the dining hall, and were announced. I mentally checked myself, ensuring that I maintained a neutral expression, for the moment at least. The eyes of the many turned to regard me.
A quick glance around the room told me that the Countess had not arrived to her party, yet, and I was relieved. I had been worried that we would be late. I ignored the expressions of the Countess' guests, ranging from the bored bordering on disdainful, to the insanely curious.
Caroline fell into step behind me, and I knew that unless anything was awry at the party, we wouldn't be able to converse for the rest of the night; not about anything of any importance, at least.
Until the Countess arrived, I would have to mingle, I reminded myself, as a waiter drifted toward me and I accepted a glass of sparkling white wine, which was a specialty of the coastal region. No sooner had I accepted the glass and turned from the waiter, I had found my way blocked by an eager-looking noblewoman wearing mustard-coloured velvets, who trilled a hello to me in a voice lower than I expected.
Thus set the tone for the start of the evening; polite but somewhat pointless conversation with people I knew by reputation only. After pleasantries, I would lead into discussing the rise of the Oblivion gates, or the devastation in Kvatch, in an attempt to gauge the aristocracy's concern on the matter. Unfortunately, such a topic gave whoever I was talking to an excuse to ask for my account of the Emperor's murder, or to discuss the validity of an illegitimate heir's claim to the throne. The necessity of relighting the dragonfires appeared to be lost on them; at least, the ones I conversed with; who were plainly more interested in gossip for their own gain.
Somewhat frustrated after thirty minutes of negotiating my way delicately around matters I didn't wish to discuss, I was relieved when the Countess was announced, and as one, the room turned to the entry and bowed.
When it was acceptable to raise my head, I did, and I made sure to wear a smile as my eyes sought Countess Umbranox's. It was difficult not to frown, when I took in the state of her.
She looked regal enough; wearing a beautiful blue dress, edged in both gold and silver. But she was pale; her face emotionless, and she refused to meet anybody's eye as she stood in the entrance to the dining hall. I crossed my brows, wondering what was keeping her from entering. If she was unwell, she could have quite acceptably cancelled the event.
The reason for her pallor was made evident as she was joined by a man, who looked vaguely familiar to me, though I couldn't immediately place him. He offered her his arm, and was promptly announced.
"And, my Lord and Ladies, presenting Count Corvus Umbranox, returned just this evening from the Imperial City."
What?
There were gasps and exclamations of surprise, and it sounded as though one woman over the other side of the room might have fainted. I kept check of my response, though I couldn't help but stare at the Count; his thin face expressionless as he lead the Countess into the room, toward the dining table. He was tanned; more tanned than Imperials within the aristocracy usually allowed themselves to become, but otherwise presented the stature and solemnity expected from a Count of Cyrodiil.
As they stepped aside, I caught a glimpse of a figure in the doorway who had been standing behind them, who was wearing dark armour and whose face was covered entirely by am ominous grey cowl. While instinctively knowing that they could not be Mythic Dawn, a pang of distrust swept over me, and I caught Caroline's arm, turning to her to point out the suspicious body. But the moment I had turned, my concern immediately dissipated, and I found myself once again transfixed by the Count and Countess, together finally, after so long, stepping up to the Countess' place at the dining table.
Countess Umbranox finally cast her eyes around the room, as she drew to a halt, and let her hand fall from her husband's arm. In the light cast by the chandeliers and sconces within the room, I noticed that both hers, and her husband's, hair was peppered with grey at the temples.
"Welcome, friends," she said, in a strained voice. "You will have to forgive me for my lateness in arriving; as you can see," she indicated the Count, his hands folded in front of him, "it has been a rather momentous evening."
Countess Umbranox's tone eased, marginally, as she moved on to discuss the reason for calling so many of her honoured friends to the castle that night; in support of some charity or other that she had been patroness of for several years, but I doubted many in the room were paying attention. She spoke of donation points and indicated her stewards around the room, but all focus, all anybody wanted to hear about, was how the Count had finally returned home, and where he had been, these past ten years. Information which all in the room knew wouldn't be freely discussed.
After a few more brief words, the Countess bade everybody to find their places and sit, before the dinner prepared grew any colder. Caroline touched my arm, to indicate that we move toward my place.
I was seated, as Beatrice had promised, close to the Countess. She sat at the head of the table, and after she was settled, the Count left her side to sit at the other end, far away from us. I watched the Countess as her eyes trailed after her husband, but her face betrayed no hint of wonder, or even happiness, at his return, so trained was her expression.
A waiter hurried forward to seat me, before Caroline was able to, and I found myself next to a pompous-looking man wearing burgundy and black, and a rather beautiful Altmer woman, who I recalled was the head of the Anvil Mage's Guild.
She paid me no mind, smiling and nodding a brief hello, as she turned to the man the other side of her and began discussing her support of the Arch-Mage's latest decree. I reasoned that they had been discussing the same prior to the Count and Countess' startling arrival, to be able to so easily fall back into the middle of a conversation.
I inwardly sighed, looking across the table and down, to where the Countess was sat. If I had only been placed where the man next to me was, I would be seated next to her. Perhaps it would be close enough? After all, what did it matter if others heard of my request to the Countess? It may encourage her to pledge support, for fear of being judged by them.
While I didn't really want to guilt any of the Counts or Countesses into helping Bruma, ultimately I would use whatever I needed to, to ensure their support.
The man sitting next to me caught my eye as I smiled at where my thoughts had lead me, and shifted my focus from the Countess to him, trying to place him. He was in his thirties, and a rather thin, pale-looking Imperial man; clean-shaven with high cheekbones and hazel-coloured eyes that were a little too close together for him to be called traditionally handsome, I thought. He extended his hand to me, somewhat awkwardly, since we were already seated. "Lord Velwyn Benirus, at your service, my Lady," he introduced himself.
Ah, I remembered his name, though I had never met the man. I made sure to retain my cordial smile, and extended my hand to his, as he seemed intent on greeting me as though we were standing. He placed a small kiss on my hand, then released me.
"Lord Benirus, it is a pleasure to meet you," I greeted with a small incline of my head as I used his title, as I was required to do for our introduction, but not after if I didn't wish it. While he was noble, the Passero's were higher than the Benirus' within the aristocracy. He had inherited his estranged grandfather's title, and manor house, though he had been borne of his noble mother's union with a common man. I remembered, from the information I had stored about the noble families in Cyrodiil, that he had been attempting to sell the house, but not his title, for many years; a venture I had always considered to be a little odd, which is possibly why I had remembered it so easily. Nobles were usually keen on both retaining what land they had, and pursuing more.
"Have you had any recent success in your endeavour to sell Benirus Manor?" I asked him directly, keen to focus on a topic that wouldn't venture near my escape from the White-Gold Tower and all that had occurred that fateful day.
My enquiry was well met, and Velwyn took leave to launch into a long, sigh-filled diatribe about the manor house, all but cursing the bricks and mortar it was made of. An appetiser of fresh oysters was set down in front of us while he spoke, and I took the opportunity to eat while he did, nodding and widening my eyes at his tale at what I hoped was appropriate moments, though I was barely focussed on what he was saying.
Is this what life was about, once, I told myself dryly, observing the high society about me, with eyes newly opened.
He prodded at one of the oysters on the plate before him with a fork, finally, and I caught the word 'haunted' in his lament. As interesting as the prospect of a haunted mansion was, I regretted the topic, suddenly, as it weighed down the discussion between us with years of bitterness from within the man.
Dinner continued, with a second course being served, and my partner in conversation managed to momentarily forget his own state of affairs as we extended outside of Anvil's walls and he enquired about my travels. At his request, I related to him the state of things in Kvatch, a part of me still wishing to impress upon these people that there was a war going on around them, despite being reluctant to talk about what they most wanted to hear.
It was during my recalling of what had become of Count Goldwine's fortress, and the Count himself, that I managed to capture the attention of the Countess, and I easily included my glances and words in her direction. It was clear that she was seeking a conversation diverting enough to distract her from her husband's strange reappearance. As curious as I was on the matter, it was obvious that she wished to discuss anything but that.
"And, I assume the High Chancellor has pledged assistance, regarding the rebuild of Kvatch?" Countess Umbranox asked, when I paused to take up a spoonful of soup.
I doubted that Ocato considered the fate of Kvatch to be the responsibility of the Empire, when it was at war, but stopped myself from replying with a negative. "My belief is that the High Chancellor's attentions are directed toward the Imperial Legion and their deployment around Tamriel, while the war against the Mythic Dawn carries on," I told her, then added, "Though, it has been several weeks since I was in his presence."
"Oh. Yes, I remember," the Countess said. "Your address to the Elder Council," she added vaguely.
It was clear that her mind wasn't truly on our conversation, however her words were formed. It was no wonder, but I yearned to find a way to capture her focus, since the opportunity to speak with her had presented itself so early in the meal.
I inclined my head respectfully, settling on a lead in that I thought might work. "I am gratified to find Anvil in such a state of normality, Countess," I told her. "My bodyguard and I encountered only a single Oblivion gate on our journey through your county."
It worked. Her eyes fixed properly on me, betraying concern. "Good gracious, Sarina," she sounded a little more like the Countess I remembered from childhood. "I shall summon my Captain at once to close it," she motioned for one of her stewards to attend to her, but continued addressing me. "Can you explain where you saw it?"
I shook my head and raised my hand, to give her pause. "That won't be necessary, Countess. I took care of it; the gate is already closed."
The Countess stilled, and both she, and Lord Benirus, regarded me with wide eyes. Velwyn's gaze was more calculating than the Countess', but I kept my focus on her, as I checked myself again, to ensure I was sitting straight and that my expression was level. I did not want to lose the ground that would give me leave to discuss Bruma's plight.
"But, surely," the Countess blinked a little, her eyes flickering over my appearance, "you don't mean you, personally..." she trailed off.
I smiled in what I hoped was a humble way. "I certainly do. And I am happy to be able to be of service to you, as we strive together to keep all of Cyrodiil safe," I told her.
"But Sarina," the Countess sounded slightly more distressed than I had expected she would. "Why ever would you choose to do such a thing, when my guard are fully trained and prepared to act?"
Lord Benirus muttered something about rumours, and I flicked him a glance before returning my attention to Countess Umbranox. "Out of necessity," it was time, I decided, and pressed on. "I confess that my journey to you was in order to offer to close Oblivion gates in your region personally, in exchange for your assistance."
"Cast yourself into Oblivion time and time again to secure my assistance, child?" she asked me, drawing her hand to her mouth. "Wherever did you come upon such a notion?"
Fearing that I had misjudged the Countess' regard for me, particularly since she had referred to me as child, I hurriedly replied in the hope of saving the conversation before I offended her. "I assure you, it was not my choice to be made part of these events, but the prophecies of the late Emperor, as I explained during the Elder Council address," I reminded her.
She waved her hand, "That is not what I meant, Sarina," she said, also hurriedly. "If you require my assistance, you need only ask me for it," she explained, and I caught the hint of reproach in her voice.
I apologised calmly, and went on to tell her that I feared my request asked too much to expect nothing in return, which finally, gratefully, directed the Countess to ask my purpose for being there.
"You may have heard my explaining to Lord Benirus about the Oblivion gate that devastated Kvatch?" I confirmed. The Countess nodded, but said nothing. I drew a long, sighing breath and continued. "Kvatch's destruction occurred after a number of Oblivion gates formed, to together summon what is called a 'Great Gate'. I haven't seen such a gate myself, so I'm not certain of how its creation ensured Kvatch would fall; I only know that it did," I suddenly realised that it may have been prudent of me to ask Martin what exactly had happened, when the Great Gate had been created.
"You require me to pledge assistance to Kvatch?" the Countess asked, as I had hesitated. "We have already accepted a large number of refugees from the city, who have been more than willing to make Anvil their new home."
I shook my head. "I have already pledged a portion of my family's fortune to Kvatch, which should be at this moment allowing rebuilding efforts to get underway, so for the moment, they are taken care of. No, unfortunately Countess, my request is regarding a plan of the Mythic Dawn's to open a Great Gate with the intent of sacking Bruma, which will succeed, should Cyrodiil not, as a whole, respond while there is still time."
"Bruma? What does Bruma have to do with anything?" Velwyn Benirus asked snidely. I noticed the Countess glance at him now, a glint of frustration in her look, so I decided to ignore his question.
"If Bruma falls, so too will the Emperor, who is being kept nearby," I added.
"The heir is in Bruma?" the Countess asked, a little confusion in her question. "Narina is more than capable of ensuring his safety, regardless of what this Mythic Dawn throw at her city."
I shook my head, wondering how the Countess could underestimate the Mythic Dawn's power so; but then, I supposed, she had never directly encountered any of them. "The Emperor is safe at a Blades stronghold, close by to Bruma. But unfortunately, the Mythic Dawn have learned of his location, and decided that his murder is their priority. Their plan to devastate Bruma is with the sole intention of rendering the Emperor virtually defenceless.
"My quest to you, and the other leaders of Cyrodiil, is to gain military support for Bruma, so that as the Mythic Dawn endeavour to open minor Oblivion gates, we are able to close them before they can activate enough to summon the Great Gate," I finally made my point. "And that, Countess Umbranox, is why I considered it necessary that I close the Oblivion gate in your region, when we happened upon it earlier today," I told her, and was relieved to see that I still had her full attention. She didn't look happy; but who would, at such a request? She wasn't denying me, so that was something at least.
"You faced Oblivion again because you wish me to deploy my armies to another county, leaving my own virtually defenceless?" she confirmed.
Careful, I told myself, as I shook my head again. "I would never ask anyone to leave their people defenceless. I merely ask that in exchange for removing the immediate threat to your people, you might be able to send a number of your soldiers – a number of your own choosing, I might add – to assist the Bruma guard, and ultimately, keep the last Septim, and our hopes, alive."
The Countess sat back a little, as our second courses were removed, and a third was placed down in front of us; grilled fish and steamed leeks. I stared down at my plate, during the pause, letting out a shaky breath as I remembered the sacks of leeks that we had been hidden under when we had left Bruma, before the Dawn had attacked the cart. The thought made me no longer hungry, as a nervousness wound its way into my belly. I realised how presumptuous my actions, and request, were; heightened by my closing the gate prior to addressing the Countess, essentially giving her no true choice in the matter, particularly since I had brought the matter up publicly.
The waiters withdrew and the Countess shook her head at me, returning immediately to our topic of conversation. "Sarina dear, you should know me well enough to know that I cannot possibly deny such an entreaty," she picked up her knife and fork, and began to idly cut the leeks on her plate.
I picked up my knife and fork also, but left my food untouched. "I never assumed you would," I told her. My mouth was dry, as I felt us near her decision.
"I only wish that you had come to me before casting yourself into the realm of Mehrunes Dagon again," her look was concerned, and her tone somewhat scolding, but I came to realise at her next question that the latter wasn't aimed directly at me. "Tell me truthfully, the others aren't making you plunge into Oblivion before they pledge their support, are they?"
I reached for my wine glass to consider my response, not wanting to speak ill of the nobility. "I have met only with Count Hassildor and yourself so far, and he was more relieved with the outcome of my endeavours, than the particulars of it," I worded carefully.
The Countess 'hmphed', and took up a small piece of leek that she had cut. After she had chewed and swallowed, she shook her head. "But of course, Janus would agree to such a scheme," she said somewhat reproachfully. "And how many of his guard did he promise to Bruma, in exchange for you putting your life at risk on his people's behalf?"
I continued lightly. "An invaluable five legions, Countess," I admitted.
Lord Benirus' fork slipped out of his grip. I took a sip of wine, and then turned back up to the Countess, ensuring my face remained calm, though my heart raced.
She was a little paler than she had been during our discussion, but I couldn't tell whether it was out of shock, or anger. "I see," she said, shortly. "How very noble of him."
I decided to ignore the sarcasm in her tone. "It truly was," I smiled, hoping that I hadn't lost her. Clearly, her trying day had put her rather on edge, but there was nothing I could do for that. "The Skingrad guard he promised should be assembled in Bruma in a day or two," I carried on, deciding to try and remain professional, and detached, "and every man or woman sent to assist will further our hopes of keeping the Emperor alive long enough to retrieve the Amulet of Kings and relight the dragonfires, to draw these strange times to a close."
The Countess inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement, and resumed eating for a time, so I did the same. Lord Benirus remained pointedly, uncomfortably silent between us, as he chewed his own food.
But, the Countess' silence relieved me, somewhat. It wasn't a 'no' – and regardless of her reactions to what I had told her, I had never assumed during it that she would say no. She was carefully considering the matter, and very likely, I thought, the specific number she would agree to send; whether she would match Count Hassildor's pledge, or exceed it.
"Well, Sarina," the Countess said eventually, sighing and placing her fork carefully down on the edge of her plate. "You have managed to achieve what I didn't think was possible tonight, and capture my thoughts entirely," there was a hint of a smile, though ironic, on her face. "However, what you ask cannot be decided hastily. I must speak to Captain Langley on the matter. I shall send assistance to Bruma, as you request; I shall advise you of the numbers some time tomorrow," she finished.
"Thank you," I replied graciously. "And I assure you, Countess, that I am ready and willing to close any Oblivion gates in your county, if it will free more of your guard to answer Bruma's plea-"
"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," the Countess cut in before I had finished. "I for one remember that you are not a common mercenary."
Feeling that the topic drawing to a close, the Countess asked after Countess Carvain, correctly assuming that I had been with her in Bruma recently, and the air between us eased and lightened significantly.
Sometime during the fifth course, Lord Benirus even gained enough confidence to rejoin our conversation, though I wished at once that he had remained silent. He boldly asked me what I intended to do with my life, now that my prospects in the Imperial City had been brought to such an unfortunate conclusion.
Caroline made a displeased noise behind me; the first I had heard from her in a while, and I knew that she was riling from the impertinence of the man's question. As it was, I had flushed when he had asked.
"I daresay Lady Passero's prospects, as you call them Velwyn, were not entirely dependent on her marrying Ebel Septim," the Countess supplied for me. I was grateful, and cast her a look that I hoped conveyed as much.
"I apologise," he inclined his head to the Countess, though his tone suggested otherwise. "I meant only that Lady Passero might now be mistress of her own destiny, and pursue a union of her own choosing, rather than a match made on her behalf in her infancy."
Infancy? My cheeks flamed, and I turned away from Lord Benirus, hoping that he would read from the action that I was offended. Carahil, on my right, was still engaged in conversation with her partner, so I couldn't find escape from him there.
"Do you forget, Lord Benirus, that Lady Passero has been instrumental in fighting this war against the Mythic Dawn, these past months?" the Countess replied for me again, and there was no mistaking the warning in her tone, this time. "Her prospects will be secured, given the inclination of the Septims to reward those in their service, should we win this war; unlike other nobles I could mention, who's thoughts regarding Tamriel extend no further than of how it and its people may benefit their own position."
I took up a mouthful of the salad in front of me, chewing automatically and not really tasting it, keeping my eyes on my food and relieved by the Countess' intervention. The embarrassment in the air was thick, almost tangible. I was taken back by Velwyn's presumptuous manner, and wondered if the Countess' ease with me had given him the notion that he could be as familiar with me? I was well aware, as all in the room would be, that he had enquired about my marital status because, as an unmarried noble himself, he would think to recommend himself to me. What further embarrassed me, that none but myself and Caroline would know, was the truth of my prospects, as Velwyn called them; that, should we win this war, the promises Martin and I had made to one another would mean that I would become their next Empress.
While the fear of the title would not keep me from staying by Martin's side, I still could not bare thinking of it; it was too large a thought in light of all we had to overcome before it would become a reality.
Feeling compelled to say something, lest his opinion of me be sealed as nothing but a blushing maiden, I took up my wine glass again and replied stiffly, "I thank you for your concern over my well being. I have, as the Countess mentioned, been more preoccupied with the safety of our people, than my own prospects," I squared Velwyn with a hard look, now, telling myself that I had to appear bolder than I currently felt. "But, war or no, I would rather keep such matters as those you questioned me about between myself and my future husband."
There, I noticed with satisfaction, as Velwyn finally looked somewhat sheepish. My reply should have been worded in such a way as to indicate that I wasn't interested in him recommending himself to me, and also leave him wondering if I had already secured another offer or had been speaking speculatively.
"I am inclined to agree with you, Sarina," the Countess said quietly, and I didn't miss the look she cast down the table, at her own husband. A glance then passed between the Countess and I; one of understanding, which made me wonder if the Countess somehow knew about my relationship with Martin.
But that was impossible; none but Jauffre and the Blades knew of our regard for one another.
Weary of the conversation now, I was grateful when the Countess drew Lord Benirus into a discussion with the dinner guest on her other side, and once the sixth course had been cleared, the Count appeared again, behind the Countess' chair. With a somewhat startled look, she wordlessly accepted his arm and rose, as some musicians on the other side of the dining room began playing a soft, lilting melody.
Lord Benirus turned toward me and opened his mouth, wiping his hand on his serviette with the intention of holding it out to me, I thought. Caroline intervened, leaning between us swiftly, and reminding me of a letter I needed to write to the Emperor, which, she also 'reminded' me, I had promised earlier to sit down to directly after dinner.
"Oh, yes of course," I accepted her ruse hurriedly and gratefully, standing and inclining my head slightly to Lord Benirus. "Thank you for your company this evening," I made my excuses. "But I am promised elsewhere."
He lowered his hand and stood, to return my bow. "It has been most enlightening, Lady Passero," he said, now only offering me a short, somewhat strained smile. "Do not let me keep you from the important work you do for the late Emperor's heir," he added.
I threw him a bit of a perplexed glance at his insinuation that Martin wasn't Emperor already. Even though he was yet to be officially coronated by the Elder Council, I didn't see the point in denying him his birthright when he was not simply the only choice, but our only hope. But, before I said anything, I reminded myself that I honestly didn't want to remain with this odd man and argue the matter, when his opinion was of no consequence.
With the majority of the dinner party guests now dancing, I cast a rueful glance at the couples as Caroline lead me toward the exit, a part of me longing, once again, for Martin to be here with me. Despite having wanted to leave the party, an overwhelming loneliness engulfed me as I left the warmth and laughter of the dining room, and stepped into the cool, dimmer hallway.
We walked the halls of Castle Anvil in silence. I followed Caroline automatically, with my mind in the mountains, wondering what Martin was doing. I hoped that he didn't have his head buried in the Xarxes. Perhaps he was taking supper, in the hall with the Blades, or with Jauffre in his office? Or perhaps he was reading in the library, or in his room, resting his head on his hand, with his fingers wound in his hair, as he tended to do when he was focussed on a book.
Did he think of me, I wondered? Perhaps, at that very moment, he was looking up from his work and staring at nothing, wondering if I thought of him?
I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I was surprised when we reached our apartment and Caroline burst out in frustration the moment she had closed door behind us.
"Of all the insolent wretches in Cyrodiil for you to be seated next to!" Caroline cried.
I startled, looking up to my bodyguard questioningly, and saw the flash of anger in her eyes; her teeth and fists clenched.
"How dare he presume to recommend himself to you?" she meant Lord Benirus, obviously. She continued, not requiring a response from me, shaking her head furiously as she paced across the room and hurriedly closed the windows, then violently wrenched the delicate lace curtains shut. "If it had not been for the Countess, I would have dragged him to his feet and forced him to apologise, several times, my Lady. And to think he was about to ask you to dance with him, after what he said!"
I watched her, frowning. "He embarrassed me, but it was harmlessly enough done," I told her.
"Harmlessly?!" Caroline echoed in exclamation, as she closed another window with a loud thud.
I continued hurriedly. "His interests were, as the Countess pointed out, entirely on what he could gain. So naturally, he finds the idea of my being unattached, as far as he knows, tempting," I said with a grimace.
Caroline stopped her enraged window closing task to stare at me, her shoulders dropping a little as she gave me a sympathetic look, and sighed. "My Lady, you do yourself far too little credit."
I huffed a laugh, as I moved to and sat at the dresser, satisfied that Caroline's rage was diffusing. "I know his kind," I told her, as I began to unpin my hair. "I assure you, all that was on that man's mind was the wealth of the Passero estate."
Caroline was standing behind me in a moment, and helped unpin the extravagant braid. "If you insist, my Lady," she said quietly, though I could tell from her tone that she didn't agree with me.
"Anyway," I flickered her a glance and a smile, in the mirror. "He doesn't matter. We have almost gained what we came all this way for, and if I read the Countess' response properly, I daresay she will pledge an even greater number of soldiers than Count Hassildor did."
The change in topic seemed to banish the last of Caroline's anger toward Lord Benirus, and she smiled back at me in the mirror. "You spoke well, my Lady. That was a very difficult conversation, and could have been taken the wrong way many, many times," she widened her eyes in emphasis, though they were trained on my hair, as she hurriedly continued unpinning. The slight weight on my head lessened, as the curls sprang loose, and I felt better, and lighter, for it.
"Yes," I agreed, letting my hands fall to my lap; Caroline had my hair under control. "I am certain that any other Count or Countess would have been offended," I turned my head a little, as Caroline tilted my head slightly forward, to reach the pins at the back of my neck. "But Countess Umbranox..." I considered.
"She did seem rather defensive of you," Caroline spoke up with approval, during my hesitance.
I agreed, as Caroline finished unpinning, and motioned that I pass her the brush on the dresser.
I did so, and she began to run it through my hair, smoothing it down. I felt myself relaxing, and smiled. "I used to love visiting Anvil. She was very kind to me, when I came here as a child."
"There are no doubts in my mind that she was, and still is, quite fond of you," Caroline put forward. "And why would she not be?" she cast me a smile in the mirror again.
I rolled my eyes at her in reply, and she looked back down to my hair, laughing to herself a little, though certainly not at my expense. Though she didn't see it, I smiled at her, ever grateful for her camaraderie, which banished the loneliness that had swept through me earlier.
"So, tomorrow," Caroline shifted topic, "Assuming that the Countess doesn't have you wait all day, should we ride out for Chorrol directly? Or wait another night and set off the following morning?"
I inwardly winced; we would have to backtrack a little, to go to Chorrol, but there was nothing to be done for it, since we had already been to Skingrad and Kvatch. If we had stuck to our original plan of applying to Anvil for assistance first, a visit to Countess Valga would not have seemed so out of the way. I wondered then, if Countess Umbranox sent more than five legions to Bruma, whether it would be worth foregoing Chorrol entirely and making straight for the Imperial City, to see what could be done about retrieving a portion of the Legion?
No, I decided swiftly. Countess Valga would assist Bruma, of that I was certain; she had been very agreeable at our prior audience. As for the City, there was no guarantee that Ocato would be able to retrieve any of the Imperial Legion in time to assist us. We had to go where we could be most certain of obtaining troops, regardless of the winding path we would be required to take.
"I suppose it will depend on what time the Countess calls for me," I answered Caroline finally. "If she is too late in speaking with her Captain," I yawned a little, "we might as well spend another night here, and recover fully from our exertions thus far," I said, as Caroline put the brush down and I stood, glancing at the bed.
"As you like, my Lady. Now, let's get you out of that dress, and into something more comfortable to sleep in."
I hadn't realised how tired I was until I had looked at the bed, so I just nodded, wearily.
Soon enough, I settled gratefully into bed, and fatigue mercifully sent me into a deep enough sleep that not even Mankar Camoran could find me in my dreams.
A/n: Thanks Tawmathy - so glad you're enjoying Sarina's long, winding tale. If work would only stop getting in the way, I could complete it sooner for you!