Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Oblivion or any characters, plots or other elements there within, and I gain no monetary profit from the writing of this story. I do claim responsibility for Elowyn Demark and one or two random characters scattered throughout the story.

Chapter 38

It was difficult not to giggle uncontrollably as she trailed along after the knights through the twisting, eerie tunnels. Thedret had surprised her, for many reasons, and she was trying very hard to keep her more serious thoughts at bay by focusing on the madness of the situation. She had fed off of her most trusted knight. Despite her repeated warnings for him to get away from her, she felt guilty. She hated feeling guilty. So she laughed instead.

Elowyn's amusement died as soon as they discovered Sir Roderic's mutilated corpse. The once proud hero had been slashed open from shoulder to groin, his bloody entrails spilling through the massive split in his armor. His head looked to have been nearly twisted off his shoulders, and his wide, vacant eyes sent chills down Elowyn's spine. To think she had spoken to the man not long ago…

Lathon knelt beside his former master's body and let out a forlorn sigh. "My Lord…" his voice cracked and he ducked his head to hide the tears in his eyes. "You should not have ended this way…I abandoned you…"

"Where is the wraith?" Thedret asked the younger man after a pause, though his tone was not unkind.

The squire drew a shaky breath and wiped at his face with the back of his hand before shoving to his feet again. "It should be close. There's a wide chamber through this gap here. That's where it ambushed us the first time. Sir Roderic ordered me to flee…"

Thedret nodded solemnly. "It won't win this time. You two stay here," he said with a hard glance at Elowyn and Lathon. "Brellin, Carodus, you're with me."

The two knights nodded and started to move forward, but Elowyn caught Thedret's arm. She noticed the way his back stiffened at her touch, and his eyes were narrow and cold when he looked at her, but he did not pull away. "Excuse me?" she inquired with an innocent smile. "Just what in Oblivion do you think you're doing?"

"You're in no condition to fight," he stated flatly. "You have no armor and you will only get hurt or worse."

Elowyn tilted her head and raised a playful eyebrow. "I didn't know you cared so much for my safety," she murmured in a tone that made the other men present shift uncomfortably. "This is my fight. Your gods have decided that, hmm?"

"No." Thedret's tone was final, and Elowyn was tempted to press the issue just to see what he would do to stop her from getting involved. Tie her up perhaps? The mental images were most amusing. "Stay here."

Elowyn wanted to argue as the stubborn man brushed past her, but Brellin stepped up and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, my Lady. He only wishes to keep you safe. We'll make you proud."

And they did. As she and Lathon watched from the safety of the shadows, the three knights cautiously entered the misty chamber beyond. Elowyn's eyes allowed her to clearly track their movements. Thedret and Carodus walked several feet apart, each man's chosen weapon and shield at the ready, while Brellin flanked them into the shadows along the walls with his bow drawn. When the wraith emerged from the far side of the cavern with a scream of rage, the men were ready and fought with skill and coordination that made Elowyn smile into the darkness.

After a brief flurry of battle, the fell wraith let out a final blood-curdling shriek and crumbled to dust at Carodus' feet, the sword in its skeletal hand clattering sharply against the stone floor of the cave. Elowyn stepped across the room and stooped to retrieve the blade, but the moment her fingertips brushed the hilt of the weapon, she jerked her hand away with a pained hiss.

"What's wrong?" Brellin emerged from the far side of the room where he had been emptying his quiver into the now-defeated wraith. Carodus was hugging his ribs with one hand, but he waved off their concerned looks, saying it was only a small flesh wound.

"The sword," Elowyn finally answered with a shake of her head, "there's something wrong with it."

"Wrong?" Thedret echoed as he crouched beside where the weapon had fallen but did attempt to touch it. Elowyn's fingers burned with a strange, icy tingle, but after a moment of shaking and flexing the offended digits, her hand returned to normal.

"It's corrupted," Lathon offered as if he had only just remembered something. "That's what Sir Roderic said of this place itself. That there is some sort of corruption here, coming from this room. He believed it was the wraith, but perhaps it's the sword as well?"

"I think you're right," Thedret murmured with dark frown.

Elowyn leaned closer to study the weapon on the ground. Unnatural, shadowy splotches danced along the blade in the flickering torchlight. "Okay. So how do we undo that? Because I can't even touch it, let alone swing it at Umaril's face. Which is its intended use, hmm?"

There was a pregnant pause, and Elowyn glance around to see expressions of uncertainty on the men's faces. "What god gifted this weapon to the Crusader?" Thedret abruptly asked.

"Arkay," Carodus supplied around the mouth of a healing potion. He grimaced at the foul tasting brew, then added, "I remember reading something about that in one of those old tomes back at Cloud Ruler Temple."

"Good memory," Elowyn quipped.

"Well, that's the answer then," Thedret said as if everything should be perfectly obvious. "We take the blade to Arkay. The Chapel of Arkay in Cheydinhal."

Elowyn blanched by tried to hide it. Not just Arkay, but Cheydinhal as well. The judgement of a god who despised her and the memories of a former family all in one bitter dose. This would not be a pleasant experience. "How can you be sure of that?" she had to ask, desperately hoping her discomfort was not displayed all over her face.

"I can't," Thedret answered honestly with a frown. "But we have to do something. Wouldn't you agree?"

She bit her tongue to keep from informing him that she most certainly did not agree. Brellin unclasped his cloak and bent to wrap the corrupted weapon in the dark cloth, but when he stood up, Elowyn took the bundled sword from him. "I'll do it myself. The rest of you return to the Priory and get as much rest as you can. I have a feeling things are about to get crazy. And not the fun kind of crazy."

The men nodded and moved back the way they had come in, all except for Thedret. His hard stare told her what he was about to say even before the words left his mouth. "I'm not letting you go alone."

Elowyn offered a chilling smile in answer and tucked the sword under her arm. "I wouldn't have it any other way, my darling."