49.

It all began in a very weird way. First Ingun Black-Briar went missing. A week later she was found dead in the canal that flowed through Riften. Her throat was slit but she had no other wounds or cuts in her body. Nothing was stolen from her. And no one saw anything. A few days later Sibbi Black-Briar was found dead in his prison cell. Every bone in his body was broken. He was smashed against the stone wall with massive force and the impact crushed his skull. The wall had several cracks and a few massive holes. And even when the prison was filled with guards, no one could identify the murderer.

Maven went berserk and Riften was closed off. The gates were shut tight and everyone who entered the city was searched. The Black-Briar mansion was now guarded by the city guard that the Jarl herself had appointed. The streets of Riften were filled with whispers and rumors. Everyone was amazed. Maven talked about revenge and a terrible fate for those who dared to defy or threaten her and her family. Brynjolf felt the effects in the Guild. Everything was halted. No one was allowed to go in or out of the city. Mercer cursed their bad luck and offered his help to Maven. Only Brynjolf had a pretty good idea who behind this madness.

J'Ziir was back.

But even he didn't know where that accursed Khajiit was hiding. And how the cat managed to walk in and out of the city without anyone knowing. Things went from bad to worse. After Sibbi's death, Hemming Black-Briar narrowly escaped death, or so everyone thought. A sharp, poisoned ebony arrow struck the wall next to his head when he was sleeping in his own bedroom. When Brynjolf heard about it he knew it was not an accident. J'Ziir wasn't that careless. There was something else going on. As the days passed and nothing was solved, Brynjolf decided to confront Sura. If anyone knew where J'Ziir was, it had to be her. Leaving the city was not a problem for him. He ran from Riften several times during his youth and climbing over the wall like a silent shadow caused no trouble for him.

The camp was still in the same place, not too far from the city, on the other side of the lake. Near the ruins of the old house. As Brynjolf strolled forward he heard a sudden noise from his left side. His instincts kicked in. A sharp dagger came whistling towards him and he barely managed to dodge it. The dagger struck the birch right next to his head. It drilled itself deep into the tree trunk. Brynjolf grabbed it and turned around. He was enraged.

"What in Oblivion are you doing?" he yelled. "Are you trying to kill me now as well? Ingun and Sibbi weren't enough? I'm not even a Black-Briar!"

"You might as well be," J'Ziir's soft voice answered. Brynjolf wasn't fooled by the tone. He heard how cold and icy it was. "From the way you're licking their boots. I never thought I'd see you crawl like that."

"What did I ever do to you, lad?" Brynjolf asked and hurled the dagger to the ground. "I did what you asked, didn't I?

"You backed away," J'Ziir stepped out the forest. "And you thought that I didn't find out. Very foolish of you, "brother"."

Brynjolf faced him. Was it possible that J'Ziir grew even colder? That there was nothing underneath those blue eyes of his? Nothing but revenge and death and agony. He killed both Ingun and Sibbi and it seemed that it didn't affect him in any way. Cold-blooded like the lizards he was destined to fight.

"You were spying on me," Brynjolf crossed his arms. "You didn't trust me, did you?"

"Why should I?" J'Ziir asked. "I told you to stay away from Lydia. And how did you respond?"

"I got your message," Brynjolf smirked. "Since that day I have not laid a hand on her."

"Since that day?" J'Ziir asked softly. "The day you kissed her?"

"Oh, you saw that, didn't you?" Brynjolf's smile widened and for the first time, he saw some emotions in J'Ziir's eyes. A quick flash of anger and jealousy that disappeared as fast it appeared. "I would apologize, but I think I did nothing wrong."

"Do you think I don't know the games you play?" J'Ziir grabbed his dagger from the ground and sheathed it. "You sleep with that Imperial thief of yours and at the same time, you entertain a couple of other ladies in Riften as well. Where does Lydia fit in?"

"My my, lad," Brynjolf laughed. "You know more about my schedule than I do. Can you tell me when I'm supposed to meet my next...lady friend?"

"I'd be very careful if I were you," J'Ziir sneered. "Jokes aren't going to save you if you keep siding with those people."

"What do you expect me to do?" Brynjolf spread his arms. "You know what Maven Black-Briar is. She rules Riften."

"She a human, easily killed," J'Ziir said calmly.

"You already killed Ingun and Sibbi," Brynjolf tried to reason with him. "And that arrow you sent to Hemming nearly caused him to have a heart attack."

"He is still breathing, isn't he?" J'Ziir rolled his eyes. "Not for long, though."

"How did you manage to kill Sibbi like that?" Brynjolf was curious. "Even you're not that strong. Breaking a stone wall into a fine dust...?"

"Being the Dragonborn has its uses," J'Ziir answered but didn't explain any further.

"Why the Black-Briars?" Brynjolf finally asked.

"If you didn't stop halfway, you'd know the answer," J'Ziir glared at him.

"I know what they did," Brynjolf replied. "I didn't back away, J'Ziir. But when I found out that Maven was at least partly responsible for the death of our family..."

"My family," J'Ziir growled and grabbed him by the collar. "You were never part of it. Why act like you care when you obviously don't? Even now aren't you trying to save Maven Black-Briar and her last remaining offspring?"

"It's not that simple," Brynjolf pushed him away.

"It is to me," J'Ziir said. "They were part of it. So they will die."

"Maven is not powerless," Brynjolf explained. "Like you gained information, do you think she won't? And when she finds out that Raji and Lydia are close to Riften and somehow related to you..."

"They have the wolf," J'Ziir answered.

"Oh, so you trust him now? "Brynjolf felt insulted.

"More than you," J'Ziir frowned. "And Raji is not weak. Lydia...well...she is what she is. I can't protect her."

"You know," Brynjolf smiled. "She told me about that dream of hers. That you were there, watching her the whole night. It wasn't a dream, was it?"

J'Ziir cleared his throat and Brynjolf saw the truth from his eyes. He burst out laughing. Poor boy, he thought. Head over heels but still deep in denial. J'Ziir wasn't amused and Brynjolf's loud laughter annoyed him.

"Leave Lydia out of this," J'Ziir ordered. "She is nothing to you but a plaything."

"Is she any more than that to you then?" Brynjolf confronted him. "She told me she loves you."

J'Ziir flinched. His tail began to swing and back and forth. That was the only sign that told Brynjolf that he was nervous. Love was something J'Ziir didn't understand. It was something he didn't want to face. Loving someone only meant that you were weak, that there were people who could be exploited and threatened. Loving someone was dangerous.

"I heard it," J'Ziir said. "It means nothing to me."

"So you don't love her back?" Brynjolf grabbed his shoulder. "Then why do you care what I do with her?"

"I don't," J'Ziir pulled himself free. "Fine! Make her one of your sewer whores if you want. I know where my loyalties lie. With my family. And neither you or she is part of that."

"Sewer whore?" Brynjolf sighed and shook his head. "How nice of you to call her that. When she's done nothing but longed after you. When the only thing she sees is you."

Brynjolf didn't know did his words carry any weight. But Lydia was clearly a touchy subject to J'Ziir. And after seeing how she missed him, he at least felt obligated to defend her and rectify any misunderstanding that J'Ziir might have. If J'Ziir would return to Lydia in this state, Brynjolf knew he would be partly responsible. And Lydia was a nice lady. Brynjolf respected his ladies.

"She's delusional," J'Ziir finally managed to say. "She thinks she loves me. But it's only her duty to follow me. And she takes that too seriously. And maybe she even feels pity for me. And confuses that with..."

"Listen to yourself, lad!" Brynjolf interrupted him. "Excuses one after another. Isn't it time for you to wake up and see what's in front of you?"

"I could say the same to you," J'Ziir smiled but once again his smile sent shivers down Brynjof's spine. "It's time for you to make a choice. Be with me or against me. And since you haven't exposed me thus far, you aren't as loyal to that family of yours as you pretend to be."

"What are you going to do?" Brynjolf frowned.

"I won't bore you with the details," J'Ziir sneered. "But your precious Maven is running out of time. Very quickly. If I see you talking to her or to any of her henchmen, I assume you've chosen your side. And then...you and I share nothing. And when I kill you, you're just another Nord that met his fate in my hands."

"How dramatic," Brynjolf rolled his eyes. "I'll be expecting that day. You won't get rid of me so easily, lad."

"We'll see," J'Ziir glanced at him one last time. Then he turned and headed back to the forest. On the edge of tree line, he stopped. His tail swung back and forth, back and forth, like he was considering something. He took one step forward and stopped again. Then he finally faced Brynjolf. The Nord was curious to know what was this important.

"If I were you, I wouldn't trust that Guild Master of yours," J'Ziir said.

"What?" Brynjolf was confused.

"See, there's a lot you don't know," J'Ziir chuckled. "But I'm giving you free advice. And a chance, Brynjolf. One chance. It's up to you now to decide will we stay as brothers or shall we become enemies."

"Would you really kill me in cold blood?" Brynjolf asked.

"Yes," J'Ziir didn't hesitate. "Give me a reason and I will."