CHAPTER 11: A breadcrumb trail to a pied piper
"He made melodies out of hate and perversion and pain, and they came to him, skipping to the music, hoping he would let them sing along" – Joe Hill
"Dad, are we going to die?"
"Die?! Where did you get that one from?"
"Jono said that now the emperor is dead we are all going to die too."
The knight took a deep breath.
"Do not worry about these things. I will protect you both and your mother for as long as I live. I will not let anything happen to you."
"I will help you protect mom!"
"Me too!"
"Thank you, boys. I am counting on you."
Sir Tallin left his children's bedroom when they both fell asleep. He embraced Viona who was standing at the door.
"I wish I could be that certain of the future."
"We will find a way, we always do."
"Do you really have to go?"
He nodded.
"It should not take long," he said before kissing the top of her head.
After saying goodbye to his wife, the breton left in the direction of the Waterfront. He dressed in common pants and a shirt to avoid calling too much attention. A cape with a hood hid his face and the two swords he carried in his waist. It was weird walking around without armor, but he would bear.
The way to the slums that composed the Waterfront was uneventful. The view of the fine marble walls and elegant residences of the Imperial City was replaced by worn-out houses and dirt roads. Drunkards and shady skooma dealers could be seen walking freely the narrow alleys. The law did not reach this place. After some turns, the knight arrived at his destination.
The Red Rose was located at the center of the Waterfront. It was an establishment of ill reputation. The two-story building was singularly asymmetrical and made of mismatched wood planks. It seemed like someone who did not know a lot about construction had nailed the left-over materials of other projects together.
Sir Tallin sighed before going inside. The first floor served as a tavern where scantily clad waitresses served bad ale in unclean cups to their clients. Said clients did not mind though, as they were too entertained either gambling or discussing questionable business transactions with other patrons.
The breton approached the counter and informed the owner, a nordic woman, that he had a reservation for Room 4. The woman gave him a key and winked. He went straight upstairs where he found himself in a corridor full of closed doors from which one could hear all kinds of noises.
He entered the room marked with a worn-out 4 and closed the door behind him. The simple square space was dimly lit and had a simple table with chairs. The single occupant, Master Elasara had taken one of the seats for herself. The knight sat opposite to her with an angry expression blemishing his features.
"Did you choose this place just to annoy me?"
"You know I never miss an opportunity to jest with you, Tallin," said a jovial male voice.
To his left, a bosmer clad in dark light armor appeared as if out of thin air. He also wore a dark cape with a hood that covered his head and a mask that hid his face. He seemed to have short knives and daggers tucked away in every single limb. The man was reclining against the chair, with his arms behind his head and both his feet on the table.
"But, this time, I just had security concerns."
"Security? Do you understand where we are?"
"They are thieves, not traitors… Well, maybe a few. But Jordja soundproofed most rooms. It would be bad for her business if people here were overheard."
"This makes me feel so much better," the breton answered mockingly.
"Boys!" the altmer said in a warning tone.
"I am sorry, Elasara," said the bosmer while taking off hood and mask to reveal short light brown hair and green eyes, "it is always a joy to see you."
"Likewise, Fauch," she then looked expectantly between the two men, "I can wait here all night, you know."
The breton was the first to give him. He sighed before proceeding.
"It is nice to see you again, Fauchalas," he said in an almost ironic voice.
"As snobbish as you can be, I did miss your company, Tallin," he answered in a sarcastic tone of his own.
"Great! Now for the matters of the day. Did you find anything?" the altmer asked full of expectation.
"Please, did you forget who I am?" he took his feet out of the table and dropped a wood necklace with a rising Sun engraved, "quite a challenge this one was."
"That is why we asked you," admitted the knight.
"My unofficial sources could not unravel any organization that used this as an insignia. It is also too cheap," he rotated the object in his hand, "and easy to copy to serve as a badge to identify members."
"So, is it just a necklace that one of the assassins happened to be wearing?" asked the battlemage.
"I did not say that," replied the other elf.
Fauch retrieved a piece of parchment out of one of his many pockets and opened it over the table. It was a large map of Tamriel with red circles painted around some towns and villages.
"Do you know what I love about beggars? They see everything without ever being seen," he pointed to the circles, "for the last three years, there have been sightings of people wearing pendants similar to this one, not necessarily as a necklace. Some used as a pin. It was seen poorly attached to a bangle once."
"Those are all very small settlements," commented Sir Tallin, "that is probably how they remained under the radar for so long. What did they do in those places?"
"Buy food from locals mostly. Always with good coin in hand."
"No register of these sales I will wager," said Master Elasara.
"Maybe one."
The two stopped analyzing the map to give him their full attention. The bosmer pointed to one of the circles in the Morrowind province.
"This one is actually a fence for the Thieves Guild. He is checking his books and will send me a report tomorrow. They are probably not using their real names, but it is still a lead."
"Could anyone give a description?"
"Many, but none matched. Different people and different races. All wore simple red robes but that is all. None of them were recognized as locals either. Some were described as odd…"
"Odd? Some sort of physical problem?"
"No, they behaved weirdly. Talked to themselves on the streets. Seemed paranoid. That is the main reason the beggars remembered them actually."
The room fell silent for a moment. All eyes focused on the map before them, as if waiting for a clue to reveal itself on the parchment. Master Elasara was the one to break the spell.
"Tallin," knight, and rogue looked at her, "do you remember what you said before, about these people being too theatrical?" he nodded, "what if someone or some people have been recruiting the mentally ill to do their bidding?"
"What do you mean?" he asked frowning his brow.
"Imagine this group of people who are not completely sane. Someone approaches and tells them a story. Maybe that they were all chosen for a greater purpose. Invites them to be a part of this secret society somewhere far away. They are taken there, indoctrinated and then given important especial missions…"
"Like buying food in the local market," said the bosmer.
"Or killing an emperor," completed the breton.
"You know," began Falch, "the thing about using the insane is that sadly most people do not notice if they disappear. However, they are also unpredictable," he twirled the pendant between his fingers, "they do things you did not order, like carving and carrying the symbol of your supposedly secret organization with them as a badge of honor."
"The Legion has a missing citizen register. I can ask for a list of those who showed any abnormal behavior before their disappearance. Family, friends, neighbors. Someone must have seen the recruiter," said Sir Tallin.
"This list will probably be longer than I would like, but it is a good start," commented Falch.
"All right, let us meet again to analyze the list and the fence's report. Should we include anyone else in this investigation?"
"At this point, only Ravaelle and Jauffre, anyone else is too risky," said the breton, "whoever is responsible had inside help."
The two elves nodded in agreement.
"When will they be here?"
"They will arrive for the funeral but Jauffre has to go back on the same day. The Blades are in complete disarray after what happened," lamented the breton, "they are a royal guard without a monarch."
Master Elasara chuckled calling attention to herself.
"I was just thinking that Ravaelle must be dying to put those hands of hers on whoever did this. I am a little sorry for them now," the other two joined her in brief laughter.
Afterward, Falch folded his map and prepared to leave when Tallin stopped him.
"Falch, did you look into that other thing we asked?"
"The Trebiel's case," he sighed, "I investigated them thoroughly and found nothing," he avoided the knight's gaze, "unfortunately, a lack of a previous criminal record is not proof of innocence."
"Ocato is not unreasonable," began Elasara, "he is cornered right now. He will release them if we show him something to prove this was a mistake."
"All the more reason for us to find the real guilty party soon," the bosmer stated while covering his face and hair again, "we will find our charmer of the insane and set this straight. Ria was my friend too, you know," he finished with resolution.
They all said their goodbyes and left the Red Rose. Falchalas disappeared as soon as the door opened.
Tallin and Elasara were crossing a small square, almost out of the Waterfront, when a ragtag group of bandits entered their view, blocking the exit. The duo turned around to go the other way, but all exits were also full of ruffians. There were about 30 bandits carrying different types of swords and knives. The breton sighed when they closed in.
"Guys, you do not want to do this! Believe me!"
"I think we do. So, are you going to pay the toll, or are we taking it from your dead bodies?" said a big orc with a hammer who seemed to be the leader, "you know what! Forget it! I prefer option number 2 anyway."
Sir Tallin let his hands rest over the handle of his longswords, waiting for the ideal moment to draw them. Master Elasara's hands began emitting a white glow. The orc raised his hammer and bolted ahead of the pack. He was about to strike but, before Sir Tallin could counter, a dart came from above and pierced the orc's hand, pinning it to a house's outer wall. The orc howled in pain and dropped his weapon.
All the faces turned to the roof where the dart had come from. Crouching on the edge was a dark masked figure holding a crossbow.
"Gentleman, I am sure you all have a perfectly good reason to punch this man," said a jesting voice, "but I would hate to see such a horrible display of carnage on these streets."
The orc, who seemed to be the leader, yanked his hand out of the wall and shouted to the man on the roof.
"You come down here, you coward! Or there will not be enough left of your friends for burial."
The man laughed loudly.
"It is not them I am worried about, you idiot!"
The orc made a sign and those who were carrying bows shot arrows at him. The rogue easily dodged while doing a cartwheel. Afterward, he jumped and did a backflip midair, missing a new round of arrows. He landed on his feet, next to the breton and altmer. Each was facing a different corner of the square and had their backs against each other.
"I did not ask for your help," said Tallin while drawing his twin blades and parrying two thugs simultaneously while Elasara sent a group of opponents flying against a shack's wall wind spell.
"And since when do I ask for permission?" replied Falch while disappearing on the shadows and leaving a line of unconscious bandits on his trail.
Each of them progressed through their own mass of opponents. When they were half-way through, the ruffians decided to run away, only partially because of the arrival of the City Watch. The guards approached the trio standing among unconscious bodies.
"Fighting on the streets is not authorized! We will have to bring you two in!" told them a young guard.
"It is all right, soldier," said Sir Tallin, "we were attacked while on our way."
"Even if it is so, citizen, you will have to give your statement at the guard post," Falch rolled his eyes, "what are your names, citizens?"
Falch answered before Tallin in the most nonchalant way possible.
"Falchalas Elmshade, Elasara Silinfhaer, and Tallin Dalle," the bosmer said while taking off his right glove to show a golden ring engraved with the Septim crest.
The breton facepalmed before spending the following 10 minutes assuring the poor guard that he was not in trouble. The young man left still stunned but already imagining how he would gloat to his companions he had talked to the Eternal Champion, the Grandmaster of the Battlemages, and the Imperial Spymaster.
"I do not understand you sometimes," Elasara told Falch, "Is it not bad for you that people know who you are?"
The bosmer laughed.
"Believe me… After you conciliate three warring kingdoms, cement an orc treaty, and create a god all in one go… There is simply no hiding anymore."
"Yeah, I can relate to that," replied the knight scratching his head, "but how do you do your job?"
"It is simple really. I make sure that for every person who has heard of me I have three or four aliases to use with them instead."