A/N: Sorry for the very long delay on this one! Real Life calling, I'm afraid.

Chapter 37: Here Comes The Bride

Now that I'd been 'outed' as a spy and pretender throughout civilised Vvardenfell, I wanted to head out to the Ashlander camps as soon as possible. The only thing I did before leaving was quickly return to Ebonheart, using a Divine Intervention enchantment, to return Chrysamere and the Lord's Mail.

Duke Vedam Dren had been away when I came for the artifacts on the previous day, but he was back now. I cringed when I saw him, remembering that I'd killed his brother Orvas only a couple of weeks ago. For a moment I was afraid he might try to arrest me – then I remembered that I was head of the Imperial Legion, so all his Legion guards actually reported to me. Phew.

The Duke stood up from his chair as I entered the room. For a moment we just looked at each other. "I'm sorry about your brother, serjo," I said at last. "I didn't set out to kill him, but he never gave me a chance."

He shrugged, his face expressionless. "I am saddened at his death, but perhaps it was necessary."

Unsure what else to say, I laid down the artifacts in their usual place and turned to leave. Just as I reached the door, I heard the Duke's voice behind me. "Sera Ventura? Could I offer you a word of advice?"

I turned back towards him, a little surprised. "I'm told you claim to be the Incarnate," he went on. "Nerevar reborn, according to legend. My father used to say, 'When you hear something unbelievable, don't believe it.' From what I hear, your story is remarkable enough without relying on ancient prophecies. I suggest you stand upon your reputation, and leave superstitions to the prophets and holy men."

"Thank you for your advice, your Grace," I said, keeping my expression carefully neutral. He just sighed.

Well, there was one person who obviously wasn't convinced yet. I guess it could have been worse, though – if he'd been really angry over his brother's death, he could have made life very difficult for me. Clearly there hadn't been any love lost between the two of them.

After leaving the Duke's chambers I cast a Recall spell to take me straight to Tel Vos, not wanting to risk going back to the Vivec Temple. I'd planned to use my Levitation Pants to go up and visit Aryon, but I suddenly remembered that I'd promised his guard captain to ask the Zainab Ashlanders about trade goods. Looking at my map, I saw that the Zainab camp was some way south-west of Tel Vos. I could probably walk there by the next morning, as long as I didn't get jumped by too many blighted animals along the way.

The walk to the camp was surprisingly pleasant. The Grazelands were nice to look at, even if most of the trees were bare this time of year, and they weren't quite as cold as the ashy deserts to the west. I found a small cave to spend the night in – miraculously free of bandits for once – and arrived at the camp a short while after dawn the next morning.

From the moment I arrived, I could see that the Zainab were doing a lot better than the other Ashlanders. Their camp was bigger than any of the others, and some of the structures they'd built suggested they'd been there a long time. The people looked well-fed and prosperous – at least, as much as people who live in guar-hide tents can be prosperous. They were friendlier, too – I even got a couple of smiles as I walked through the camp, and some of the children waved and giggled.

As I approached the gulakhans' tents, a man strode up to me with a broad smile on his face. "Ho, look, an outlander! Are you lost, poor thing? Did the big, bad beasts bite you, so you need a healer? Or do you need our trader, so he can take your gold and give you things we would throw away or give to our guar?"

There was laughter from the other men standing nearby. "None of those things, as it happens," I said, a bit taken aback. "I may need to speak to your trader at some point, but I really came here to see your ashkhan. It's about the Nerevarine proph-"

"Ah, so you are the outlander saying she is the Nerevarine!" he exclaimed. Everyone was looking at me curiously now. "Yes, you must talk to Ashkhan Kaushad. The ashkhan is very curious about this outlander who claims to be the Nerevarine."

He practically dragged me towards the Ashkhan's yurt. I hadn't expected it to be this easy, not after the Urshilaku and Ahemmusa. With luck, maybe this guy would name me Nerevarine without making me do some idiotic task for him first.

Ha. As if. I should have guessed how it would be as soon as I met Kaushad, and saw his obvious amusement when I was introduced as the would-be Nerevarine.

"We have heard the rumours," he said, nodding slowly. "We know you to be the outlander who claims to fulfil the Nerevarine prophecies. But teach us, 'Ada Ventura'… how could an outlander be the Nerevarine?"

I told him. He sat back and listened as I recited the story which I now knew almost off by heart, showing him all my proofs. And when I'd finished, he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

"Excuse me," he said, wiping his eyes. "Do not think me rude. But seriously. Do you believe this story yourself? I mean no offence, but you must admit, you are an outlander, and completely ignorant of our ways. How could you ever be our war leader? What sensible ashkhan would ever choose you to lead the tribes?"

His reaction left me genuinely speechless. I'd got so used to thinking of the Ashlanders as credulous and superstitious that I hadn't for a moment expected anything like this. But Kaushad had reacted exactly as I would, if anyone came to me with that story – exactly as anyone with a grain of common sense would have done. Annoying as it was, I couldn't help feeling a whole lot of respect for him.

"Perhaps I could perform some sort of task for you?" I asked. "To prove my worth?"

Kaushad thought for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. A vampire named Calvario has taken refuge in nearby Nerano Ancestral Tomb. If you are as worthy as you say you are, it should be a small matter for you to dispose of this vampire." He smiled. "There, you have your task. Now perhaps you would leave me in peace for a bit?"

Like Sul-Matuul before him, it was obvious that he didn't actually expect me to complete the task he'd given me. Well, I'd enjoy proving him wrong.

Outside, I got directions to the cave from the man I'd first spoken to, and asked him if I could speak to the trader. "Our trader Ashur-Dan has his yurt just here," he said, pointing. "Why do you want to see him, outlander?"

When I told him the Telvanni had sent me to ask about trade goods, he laughed scornfully. "Trade goods we have in plenty. What, does the outlander think we are savages, because we do not have the things the settled people have? Big buildings, heavy furniture? We have no use for this trash. And do we need to dress ourselves in foolish clothes and stand about with fancy weapons to feel like men? Hah."

I was tempted to ask why they even had a trader if that was how they felt. I refused to believe the guy made a living from ripping off the occasional lost traveller. But when I went to see Ashur-Dan himself, he told me pretty much the same thing, just a bit more politely.

"There are many fine things that might be had from the settled peopled," he said. "But what use have the Zainab for these things? I am a trader, and would be glad to make a profit. But I can think of nothing wanted that we do not already have."

None of this was very encouraging, but I decided to ask around a bit more before giving up altogether. Near the edge of the camp, I came across a group of women washing clothes in a stream. I introduced myself and asked whether there was anything they'd be willing to trade for.

One of the women laughed. "You come to us, outlander? You ask us about the trade goods wanted among the Zainab? We are just the women. No one listens to us."

"Well, I'm listening," I pointed out.

The women had a quick discussion amongst themselves in their own language. Finally the first woman nodded. "We Zainab make everything we need. We do not need things from outsiders. But…."

"But?"

"Our men get common diseases and blight diseases when they go out hunting or tending the herds," she said. "They are sometimes gone for long times, and cannot return all the way back to camp to be cured by the wise women. The settled people make the bottled magics that cure common disease and blight disease, but the Zainab are often in short supply of these things. These magics might be the trade goods we would want."

Magic potions? Well, that ought to be a nice little earner for the Telvanni – if they could think of anything they wanted in return. But how typical of a bunch of men to put up with nasty diseases for days, rather than admit they needed help...

I wrote down the suggestion in my journal and then set off for Nerano Ancestral Tomb. It was so far away from the camp that it was easier just to teleport back to Vos and walk from there. I'd have to make the entire journey back to the camp again when I was finished.

When I reached the tomb, I stopped outside to make sure I had everything I needed. I'd learned a lot from the last vampire I fought, and I didn't want to get caught out again this time. After checking I had the right scrolls, and loading myself up with magically-protective gear, I cast the Amulet of Shadows enchantment and entered the tomb.

The outer rooms were full of undead creatures and littered with dead bodies, probably other adventurers who'd tangled with Calvario. I found the vampire himself in an inner chamber of the tomb, and quickly cast two scrolls at him in succession: a fire damage spell and a 'Scroll of Baleful Suffering', designed to blind him, demoralise him and disintegrate any weapons he might be carrying. Then I hit him with the Sound enchantment from the Ahemmusa Madstone. (I really wasn't taking any chances this time.)

The spells left Calvario reeling and staggering, and I seized the opportunity to run up and stab him through the heart. I scooped up the vampire dust he left behind, and Recalled to Tel Vos to begin the journey back to the Zainab camp.

I arrived back a short while before sunset, tired and grubby but triumphant. Kaushad's expression when I strolled into his yurt was priceless. I swept a low bow, trying to keep a straight face, and handed him the bag of vampire dust.

"Your task is complete, great Ashkhan," I said solemnly. "Calvario is dead."

Kaushad opened up the bag and eyed the dust suspiciously. "Well," he said, with a slight cough. "So you killed the vampire? Ahem. Well. I will be happy to acknowledge you as Zainab Nerevarine." Suddenly his eyes lit up. "But... it is customary for one seeking an honour from the Ashkhan to offer a generous gift as a mark of respect."

I might have guessed he'd try it on. "That's funny," I said innocently. "Neither of the other Ashkhans asked me to give them gifts."

"No gifts? What are things coming to?" Kaushad shook his head sorrowfully. "No wonder you do not know our customs. But since you are an outlander, I will do you the great favour of naming the gift I wish to receive – a high-born Telvanni bride."

I nearly choked. "A Telvanni bride? You – you want to marry a Telvanni?"

"Yes, a high-born Telvanni lady. A pretty one, plump, with big hips to bring me many sons."

I tried to speak, but all that came out was a kind of strangled squeak. "Where will you find a high-born Telvanni bride?" he went on, as if he hadn't heard me. "That is simple. Visit high-born Telvanni lords and inform them that Ashkhan Kaushad of the Lordly Zainab would do them the honour of making their daughter his bride. Surely many Telvanni lords would be honoured to receive such an offer."

"B-but –"

"Consider carefully the many daughters offered and choose for me the finest. Take counsel with my wise woman, Sonummu Zabamat – she knows my mind well in such matters."

Oh, the bastard. His eyes were sparkling; it was obvious he knew perfectly well what an impossible task he'd just sent me. He was just having a bit of fun with me – and the most annoying thing was that somehow, I still couldn't help liking the guy.

I briefly imagined myself standing in front of each of the Telvanni Councillors, asking them if they'd allow their daughters to marry the Zainab Ashkhan. Then I imagined trying to persuade a young, beautiful, wealthy Telvanni noblewoman that she wanted to marry a middle-aged Ashlander chief. Frankly, I thought I'd rather take my chances with an angry Azura.

"I'm a rich woman," I said, making a last-ditch save. "Might you be willing to accept some gold instead?"

Kaushad shook his head. "How can you ask this, outlander? A pretty bride to bring me sons and daughters is worth far more than gold."

I couldn't help wondering why he wasn't already married if he was so keen to have kids – he wasn't exactly a spring chicken. Perhaps he had, and his first wife had died? I didn't like to ask.

At a loss for ideas, I went to see the wise woman Sonnammu Zabamat. She was a very old woman, but her eyes were bright and she looked crafty. When I explained why I'd come and what Kaushad had said, she chuckled softly.

"Kaushad wants a Telvanni bride, eh?" she said, shaking her head. "No high-born Telvanni would wed an Ashlander. But…" She considered for a moment. "I have a plan."

"Oh, thank the gods," I breathed. "What is it?"

"Go to my friend, Savile Imayn, slavemistress of the Festival Slave Market – "

"Festival Slave Market?"

"Yes, the Festival Slave Market in Tel Aruhn – and tell her you need a pretty Dunmer slave to pose as a Telvanni lady. She will tell you what clothes to buy, and will dress the slave like a high-born Telvanni. Then escort the pretty slave to Zainab camp and present her to Ashkhan Kaushad – he won't know the difference."

I opened my mouth to object, and then hesitated. Surely Kaushad was too smart to fall for a trick like that? But then again… he'd almost certainly never met a high-born Telvanni lady. It might just work.

The only problem was, of course, that it would involve buying a slave. And the idea revolted me. I'd done a lot of things I wasn't too proud of in my quest to be named Nerevarine, but the line had to be drawn somewhere – and I certainly drew it at buying a slave woman in order to force her into marriage. As far as I was concerned, that was the worst possible form of slavery.

After a lot of thought, I eventually decided to go to the 'Festival Slave Market' (gods, what a name) and speak to Savile Imayn. Who knew – I might just find a young, pretty Dunmer slave woman who actually wanted to marry an Ashkhan. Miracles could happen. And if I didn't… well, I'd just have to think of something else.

I slept over at the Fighter's Guild in Wolverine Hall, and Water Walked over to Tel Aruhn the next day. I was avoiding Sadrith Mora over what had happened with Neloth, but since he and Archmagister Gothren had been enemies, I figured Gothren's village ought to be relatively safe… unless some of his friends or family were out for revenge. Well, I'd have to risk it.

The Festival Slave Market was at the edge of the village. Slaves were kept there in open cages carved out of mushrooms, dangling from the roots of the main tower. The sight was disturbing, but not nearly as horrific as it had seemed when I first arrived, and I realised with a jolt of shock that I was starting to get used to it. I really didn't want that to happen.

The slave trader Savile Imayn had clearly grown wealthy from her 'business', and wasn't interested in hiding it. She looked ridiculously overdressed in the extravagant clothes she wore, but obviously I didn't say so. I just walked over to her, forcing myself to smile.

"Ah, welcome to the Festival Slave Market!" she said brightly. "The finest slaves in Vvardenfell! I'm Savile Imayn, and – " Suddenly she broke off. "Wait a moment, aren't you the outlander who killed Archmagister Gothren? The one who claims to be Nerevar reborn?"

"I am," I admitted. "Er, is that a problem?"

"Not at all," she said, shrugging. "Call yourself the Nerevarine. We don't care. Anyway, I know we have the slave for you. Are you looking for standard household slaves, sera, or for something special?"

"Something special, I guess," I said. "I'm looking for a young, beautiful Dunmer woman with, ah, big hips."

Savile raised her eyebrows. "Not for that!" I protested, feeling my face grow hot. "I need her to pretend to be a high-born Telvanni lady."

"Really." Her expression didn't change. "Strange tastes you Imperials have. Well, it's all the same to me as long as – "

"I don't want to sleep with her!" People nearby were starting to look at us now. "Look," I said, lowering my voice, "let me try and explain."

I told her all about Ashkhan Kaushad and his… unusual request, as well as the wise woman's suggestion. She laughed heartily, shaking her head. "Sweet Alma, that Sonummu Zabamat and her cunning plans! I do have the slave you want – Falura Llervu, a pretty Dunmer girl. But first you must buy some exquisite clothing to dress her in."

"Where can I get it from?"

"Tel Mora," she said instantly. "Elegnan the Clothier. See these clothes I'm wearing? I bought them at her shop."

I couldn't believe the nearest fine clothier was half-way across Vvardenfell. Thank heavens I'd placed that Mark near Vos, or I'd have had to make the four-day round trip again. As it was, all I had to do was cast the spell, take the boat from Vos to Tel Mora, and then use Divine Intervention to return to Wolverine Hall. I was back in Tel Aruhn before lunch.

"Excellent!" Savile cried when she saw the clothes. "These clothes are perfect… but I need a little more time to coach Falura Llervu to play her part." She thought for a moment. "I know just the thing we need! Go get a bottle of Telvanni Bug musk perfume. That will make Falura completely irresistible."

If she made me go back to Tel Mora again, I was going to kill her. "I take it there's an apothecary here?"

"Bilden Areleth, in the centre of the village." Well, thank the Gods for that.

I bought the perfume – this Telvanni impersonation lark was getting bloody expensive, I can tell you – and returned once again to Savile. "You have the Telvanni Bug Musk?" she asked. "Good. Now, let me tell you my price. For this superb specimen, skilfully coached to play her part in your little scheme, I am pleased to accept from you the modest sum of 1,200 drakes."

"I want to see her first," I said cautiously. Savile nodded and led me to one of the slave pens.

A young, dark-haired Dunmer woman stood inside the cage, her eyes demurely lowered. She was pretty – though perhaps a bit on the thin side – and simply but neatly dressed in a cotton skirt and shirt. It felt very creepy to be examining her as if she were a pack-horse.

"Falura?" I said softly.

The woman raised her eyes. "Yes, sera. Falura Llervu of Velothis Haven, daughter of Andrano Llervu, lord of Tel Llervu, pleased to make your acquaintance." Suddenly, to my surprise, her face broke into a grin. "See? Savile Imayn has taught me well. I shall be a high-born Telvanni lady, and no one will know the difference."

"Well, that's… wonderful." I turned back to Savile. "Er, how much did you say she was?"

"1,200 drakes."

I couldn't bring myself to haggle over the price, especially not in front of the poor girl. I paid Savile with the letter of credit I'd been given by my bank, and for the first time in my life – and hopefully the last – found myself the 'proud' owner of a Dunmer slave.

"I also have an Imperial male for sale, if you're interested," Savile added hopefully.

"Maybe later," I said, privately thinking that nothing on Nirn could ever induce me to come back here.

I led Falura out of the market and down to the Tel Aruhn docks. I'd already considered how to get her to the Zainab camp – she didn't have a Recall spell, of course – and concluded that we'd just have to take the boat to Vos and walk from there. First, though, I needed to check that she was okay with Sonummu's little scheme.

"So, Falura," I said awkwardly, unsure of how to talk to someone I'd just bought. "How do you feel about marrying an Ashlander chief?"

Falura hesitated. "I admit, I am a little anxious… but anything is better than being a slave. And I am very tough and smart, and determined to make the best of my chances." She turned shy, hopeful eyes towards me, and I realised that she was very young – no more than seventeen or eighteen at most. "But Savile Imayn said you wanted to give me something... some presents?"

"Ah, yes." I held out the clothes to her, and she gasped with delight.

"Oh, sera!" she cried. "These clothes… they are divine!" She seized the clothes from me and held them to her cheek, burying her face into the velvety material, then grabbed the flask of bug musk in her other hand. "And such a perfume! Only the very rich can afford this!"

She sounded like a little kid who'd just been handed her birthday presents. I loathed myself for what I was about to do to her. This wasn't just another small step down the ladder of morality – more like a massive leap. What would my parents say if they saw me doing this? What would Athyn say – or, gods forbid, Varvur?

"Listen, Falura," I said urgently. "I won't force you to marry Kaushad if you don't want to. I'll let you go. You won't have to be a slave any more."

Falura shook her head vehemently. "No, please! I shall do everything I can to please you and my new master... that is, my gracious lord and husband-to-be. Come, I cannot wait! Let us travel together to Zainab camp and meet this Zainab lord!"

I hardly knew what to say. If she really was happy about it, I guess it was no worse than a typical arranged marriage… but it still didn't seem right to marry such a young, innocent girl to a man old enough to be her father, or even her grandfather.

What would happen if Kaushad ever realised the truth, I wondered? Would he take it out on poor Falura? I thought back to what I'd seen of the Ashkhan; obviously I didn't really know anything much about him, but I couldn't say that he'd struck me as the violent type. Arrogant and cocky, yes, but not a brute or a bully.

I decided to play it by ear and see what happened when Falura actually met Kaushad. She'd have plenty of time for second thoughts over the next few days, anyway, since we'd be spending them on board a ship to Vos.

The long journey was a little less boring with Falura as a companion. She was very talkative, full of questions, and seemed to see the whole thing as a kind of grand adventure. Before long she was asking me about myself and what I was doing in Vvardenfell, so I told her all about my quest to become Nerevarine.

"You are the Nerevarine?" she said in wonderment. "But... you are an outlander. How can that be? Such wonders in the world. Before, I was a slave; now I am a companion of the Nerevarine and the bride of a Zainab chief."

She told me about her own background, and how she'd ended up as a slave. A fairly typical story, it seemed – apparently her father had got in serious debt to the Camonna Tong, and she'd ended up as payment. What I couldn't understand was how meekly she accepted her fate. If my father had tried to do that to me, I'd have ripped his guts out – and I do mean that in a very literal sense.

From the docks at Vos, we spent an entire day walking to the Zainab camp. I must say that that was one of the most nerve-wracking journeys I've ever experienced. Falura was strong and a good walker, but she was completely helpless in a fight – and on top of protecting her, I had to worry that her beautiful clothes would get wet or torn or muddy. I've never been so relieved to finally reach an Ashlander camp.

Falura played her part beautifully, looking and sounding every inch the meek, doe-eyed virgin. It struck me that anyone who'd actually met a Telvanni would instantly realise she couldn't be one. Still, Ashkhan Kaushad didn't seem to notice.

"This is my new bride?" he said, looking approvingly at Falura. "I am very pleased with your gift, sera... though she is not so generous in the hips as I would like. I promise to make her a happy bride, and to do her honour as a high-born Telvanni lady. And, as I have said, I will now name you Zainab Nerevarine, War Leader of the Zainab, and Protector of the People."

He presented me solemnly with an enchanted sandal (yes, just one – another of his little jokes, maybe?) and then took us on a walk round the camp so he could show off his new bride. While he was discussing wedding preparations with Sonummu Zabamat, I quietly asked Falura what she thought of her bridegroom.

"He is very distinguished-looking, isn't he?" she whispered. "A bit severe, perhaps, but the lines on his face, there, show that he likes to smile. Oh, sera, I think I will be very happy."

Hmph. All's well that ends well, I guess, but I couldn't help thinking I'd been very lucky. What would I have done if I hadn't managed to find a willing slave to marry Kaushad?

That night, the entire tribe held a massive celebratory dinner – singing, dancing and a hearty meal of scuttle and ash yams, washed down with lots and lots of mazte. I ended up seated next to Falura, and soon realised I didn't need to worry about her – she seemed to have fallen in love with Kaushad at first sight. I could see her eyes shining whenever she glanced at him.

"Thank you, sera," she whispered to me, while Kaushad was talking to one of his gulakhans. "I am very pleased with Ashkhan Kaushad. He is good-looking, clever, and rich – although a bit full of himself, like all men." We shared a sly grin. "Thank you for being my matchmaker and benefactor, and I hope you will visit us when I have brought Kaushad many fine sons and daughters."

After a few more drinks, she was even promising to name her firstborn child after me. We'd just have to hope it was a girl, I suppose.

It was near midnight when the party finally broke up. I exchanged goodbyes with a tearful Falura, and walked away from the gathering so that they wouldn't see my clumsy attempts to cast Divine Intervention. Just as I reached the edge of the camp, I felt a hand grasp my shoulder.

"Psst! Outlander!" It was Kaushad. "Do not think me such a fool. Of course I realise you have tricked me."

My heart skipped a beat, but then I realised he was smiling. "I do not mind," he went on. "In fact, I think you are very clever to hoodwink the chief of the Zainab, and I think that maybe a clever Nerevarine is not such a bad thing at all. Besides, I am much happier with this fine young woman than I would have been with a stuck-up Telvanni lady."

For a moment I just stood there open-mouthed. "Shake hands with me, Ashkhan," I said at last.

He hesitated. "It's a gesture of respect in my culture," I explained, "but it's also a sign that you've met your match. And I know when I've met mine."

A wide grin spread over Kaushad's face. He gripped my hand firmly and shook it so hard that he nearly sprained my wrist. "Here is a little gift, he said, handing me a small parcel he'd been carrying under his other arm. "Perhaps when you wear it, you will think of Falura Llervu and me."

It was too dark to see what he'd given me, so I didn't open the parcel until I got back to Wolverine Hall. When I saw what was in it, I gasped – it was an incredibly beautiful embroidered shirt, similar to the one I'd given Falura. I wished I could go back to the camp to thank Kaushad properly.

As I laid down to sleep in the Hall that night, I decided I liked the Zainab best out of all the Ashlander tribes. They were smart, and most importantly, self-reliant – no sitting around dreaming and moping and waiting for mystical heroes to save them. And they knew how to have a good time, as I'd seen today. In many ways they were a lot like Imperials – if they'd just get over their knee-jerk hatred of the Empire, I suspected they'd actually get on pretty well with my people.

The next day I got up bright and early to go to Tel Vos. The first thing I did when I arrived was give Aryon's guard captain, Turedus Talanian, the information about trade goods for the Zainab. He seemed very happy, and rewarded me with 100 drakes and an 'Amulet of Levitating' – something that would have been very useful at the start of my quest to be Telvanni Hortator. Still, I guess you can never have enough levitation enchantments.

Now all I had to do was get Aryon to declare me Hortator. I hoped he wouldn't be angry about the Nartise Arobar business, but from what I'd seen of the Telvanni councillors in general, I suspected there was no love lost between him and Neloth.

I was right. Aryon had heard about the rescue, and he made me tell him the whole story. "So Neloth has lost his bargaining chip?" he said, chuckling. "I congratulate you, Ada. Most amusing."

"Unless you're one of the Arobars, I suppose," I said bluntly.

"Quite. But tell me, have you gathered the votes of the surviving Councillors?" I nodded. "I, too, am willing to vote for you… which means you are now the Hortator of House Telvanni. And I have a little something for you, called the 'Robe of the Hortator'."

Ooh, a robe this time? That sounded good. I waited as Aryon went to the bedroom below his chambers and returned carrying the Robe of the Hortator. He shook it out so I could see what it looked like… and I stared in utter horror.

It was pink. Bright pink and yellow. Someone was going to die for this.

I could see the amusement in Aryon's face as I gingerly took the robe from him. "It is an ancient artifact," he said, "and hasn't been used in centuries. But I thought you would be pleased." He winked. "I wish you luck, Hortator. I may even pray for you."

I wondered who he would pray to, knowing the Telvanni weren't exactly big fans of the Temple. Surely not one of the Imperial gods? Azura, maybe?

Oh well, at least I'd got what I came for. Finally, after all these weeks, I'd passed one of the hardest tests of the Seven Visions. The Fourth Trial was complete.