Chapter XXXIX – Who Knows

"Sleep well?"

A hushed female voice echoed through Bishop's ears. It seemed to be mocking him.

He had no idea what was going on. He was lying on some cold wooden floor. He felt the distinct scratch of ropes on his wrists and he couldn't move his legs apart either – it was pretty clear that those were restrained too. There was a blindfold over his eyes and all he could smell and taste was still that strange strong alchemical smell. It was like burnt wood and fire salts or something. It was making him sick.

He tried to hold it in, but he had to cough from the smell invading his senses. He started to gag and heave almost instantly and he had to exert a lot of effort and self-control not to throw up right then. The hangover certainly wasn't helping.

When his breathing calmed down a little bit and he got more used to the aftertaste of that strange scent, he started to perceive a bit more of his environment at last. He could definitely smell wet moldered wood and he could also feel the dampness below his bare skin. He was still dressed only in trousers and boots, just like he remembered when he was… ambushed.

How did he not hear anything? The wind was strong and it would be easy to miss any sound, but… still… the rustle of leaves was nothing like someone sneaking close enough to appear right at his back. He was good at this, he could always feel it when someone tried to get the jump on him. This was disturbing.

And who the fuck would want anything with him? Was this one of Mercer's plots? Nobody even knew where they were in the wilderness and he would have surely noticed something if they were followed, wouldn't he? Maybe Saadia and Lydia were followed though.

Or maybe you should just get up from the fucking floor and find out, idiot.

He shifted his arms that were tied behind his back uncomfortably and he used them to hoist himself up into a sitting position at least. It was easier to breathe that way and he didn't like to be lying helplessly in front of an obvious enemy. Not that sitting on the ground dumbly was making him feel any less vulnerable in his tied up state.

"Who are you?" he growled. His voice was all hoarse. He could still feel the weird burning in his throat after that strange alchemical taste.

"Someone whose attention you have caught," the woman chuckled. Her voice was oddly muffled, but it was clear enough to make out. He wasn't sure how that particular observation could be useful for him.

Her answer had told him nothing. He didn't know who she was, where he was, why he was there and how long he had been unconscious. Were Aeyrin and the others looking for him already? Or… were they even alright? Whoever took him here was silent enough to catch Bishop off guard – they could have easily done something to the rest of them.

Fuck, he had so many questions.

"Why?"

It was the only thing that he could actually say. He had no idea where to even begin. If this had been someone from Mercer, he would have likely been screaming in pain already, right? He would also have been much more securely subdued.

He might be even able to get out of the ropes in time, but… that woman was right there. She might kill him if he tried. He still had no idea what she wanted.

"Because of what you've done, of course," she chuckled briefly.

A shiver ran down his spine at her words. What did she mean? 'What he's done'? What has he done?

Well… he's done a lot. A lot of fucking shitty things. Practically anyone could have held a grudge. But… people didn't usually target a single bandit. They tended to take revenge on the entire clan if they could. Not that they would have ever managed.

No, this must have been a revenge for something else entirely.

Someone that he had harassed or… 'coerced' during his time at the Guild?

"What… 'what I've done'?" Bishop gaped at her in confusion, although he still couldn't see her and her voice was carrying oddly through the room. He wasn't even sure if he was facing her.

"Of course."

Bishop could hear a soft creak of wood, and then it was as if the air had shifted. He felt like a prey – scrutinized under the predator's gaze.

With her next words, her voice felt much closer to him. It made his stomach clench uncomfortably in fear and anxiety when she spoke.

"We know."

…

"Morning. Damn, you sleep like a log," Saadia chuckled when Aeyrin finally opened her eyes.

She instantly shivered with cold, which made her notice that Bishop wasn't by her side, but her main concern was how horribly parched she was. Other than the unpleasant wake up, however, Saadia wasn't wrong – Aeyrin had slept much better that night than in the last couple of months. She didn't remember any dreams and there was probably not much tossing and turning either. At least the strong alcohol was good for something.

"So thirsty," she croaked hoarsely and reached out for her pack to locate her waterskin.

"Yeah, so were we. I think that the sap must dehydrate like crazy – I drank my entire waterskin in one go," Saadia chuckled. Aeyrin briefly noticed that she and Lydia were already scurrying around the campsite, preparing the fire. They were likely eager for breakfast. So was Aeyrin, now that she thought about it. Where was Bishop?

"I suppose that the dehydration is one of the better things that the magic drink has done to us," Saadia snickered.

"Please, don't talk about last night," Lydia retorted through her gritted teeth. It was to be expected – she was hardly ever comfortable with being this emotional.

"Yeah… sorry… about the…" Aeyrin blushed. She was so paranoid and she completely came apart on them. Of course, none of the things that she had feared last night came true. There were definitely no cravings. If anything, she never wanted to see the pink liquid again.

"Don't worry about it," Saadia smirked. "I'm just glad we didn't end up laughing at your distress too," she chuckled briefly.

Right… Bishop did do that, but it was not as if she minded. And not as if she had even noticed – she was too caught up in her own drama.

"Where is he?" she finally asked. She kind of wished that he would warm her up. Or that he would make breakfast. She wasn't sure which one of those was more tempting.

"Don't know. He wasn't here when we woke up. It's been about half an hour, I think. We figured that he was bathing or something," Saadia shrugged. Lydia seemed suspiciously quiet, but that may have been only because of the embarrassment about last night.

Hmm… Bishop's pack was there. He would have likely taken it if he went further down the stream to bathe. Aeyrin thought for a second that he may have gone hunting, but… again… the pack. Besides, his bow was strapped to the back of it. She checked inside briefly, only to see both his armor and his soap and rags there. He was doing neither.

"I… I'm gonna go find him," Aeyrin looked around the clearing nervously. She had a bad feeling about this.

Ignoring the curious looks from Lydia and Saadia, she got up from the bedroll and pulled on her boots. She may not have any trousers on, but she would survive the cold – it was just a short trip down the stream and, for some reason, she didn't want to wait to find him even for a second. The bad feeling was threatening to overwhelm her.

She rushed down the stream, but before she could disappear from the sight of the camp, she stepped on something odd. She quickly raised her foot from the object and looked down.

It was a waterskin.

Bishop's? What was it doing there? And, much more importantly, where was he?

This didn't look good. In fact, it looked like he went to fill his waterskin and then… disappeared.

Maybe she was still a little paranoid from last night, but… it was better to overreact now, then to regret not acting later.

She needed to call Karnwyr.

…

Bishop felt the touch of some soft material on his temples – the woman's gloved hands were working on taking the blindfold off him.

She stepped back when she was done, and it took him a long time to adjust his eyes to his environment.

It was dark. They were in some small cabin, old, decrepit, made out of moldered wood. There was nothing there but a few pieces of old furniture… and that woman. Judging by her stature, she was a Nord. She was dressed entirely in skin-tight black leather armor with the occasional red lining. Her hair was hidden by a dark hood without even a strand showing and her mouth and nose were covered by a black mask. The only visible part of her were her eyes – dark-green like pine needles and just as piercing.

Well… that didn't tell him much. But she obviously didn't want to be recognized. Did they know each other? This better not be some girl he had slept with, out for revenge. Revenge for what anyway? It was not as if he had ever deceived anyone. And hopefully he didn't attract more of the insane ones like Neeshka.

But her last words, at least, gave him some hint.

"You're the one who stashed that note in my pack. The whole 'we know' crap. Who are you?" he spat at her angrily. He was starting to lose his patience.

"Not me. My Brother did," she smirked. 'Brother'? Was this some family after him? Was it someone that had been affected by Torban's banditry in Skyrim? Bishop did find the note before the bounty was public knowledge after all.

"I'm sure you have plenty of questions, so I will do you a favor," her voice carried a measure of amusement. "After all, we want this to remain… amicable, don't we?"

Fuck, that was weirdly threatening. And kind of terrifying. He certainly didn't appreciate being unarmed and unarmored there, tied up and without any chance to fight someone who had already gotten the jump on him once.

"We know what you did in Whiterun. The empty streets in the middle of the night… and a lone girl, running. Those were the last seconds of her life," the woman sighed almost wistfully.

Neeshka.

It was eerie that he had just been thinking about her a few seconds ago. This woman saw him kill her. How? He didn't see anyone! And what did she care about Neeshka?! Nobody cared about her!

"You got away with murder that day," the woman continued, now with a strange hint of fascination in her voice. Did he? Right now, it certainly didn't look like he had gotten away with anything.

"She was a bandit!" Bishop retorted instantly. If this woman was a bandit too that was probably not a great excuse but he took the chance. He'd certainly never seen a bandit dressed like that.

"Exactly. And it was sloppy, unrefined. Some thought that it was worth our attention, but most of us didn't. I know what it was. It was no murder. It was a snap. An act of desperation," she scoffed derisively.

That… was going in his favor, wasn't it? He still had no fucking idea what was going on. And she kept talking in plural. Was this about that family of hers or something? None of it made sense.

"But our numbers aren't what they used to be lately. Some of the family thought that you were worth our time. So we warned you and we watched," she continued to state that matter-of-factly.

"'Watched'?" Bishop gaped at her in shock. That note was in his pack ever since he had killed Neeshka. That was months ago. They had watched him the entire time? How would he not notice that?! And just how often did they watch him?

"It's not what you imagine. Our time is more valuable than that," she chuckled a little. "We certainly weren't stuck on your tail all day. But we did keep an eye on you. And we watched intently whenever you did something… suspicious. But nothing had caught our eye for a long time. We have almost given up on you," she smirked before she took a step closer to him. She bent down and lowered her head to end up with her face right in front of his. Her eyes pierced him unpleasantly and somehow, just then, he knew what she was going to say next.

"Until a few days ago in Riften."

Nobody was there! Nobody saw him! How was this possible? And why was this woman so concerned about the people that he had killed? Was she about to turn him in, or was she about to exact her revenge? And for what? She clearly didn't care for Neeshka. And what was all this shit about her family?

He was so fucking confused.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" she laughed heartily at his confounded expression as she straightened herself up again. She walked past him, towards an old wooden double-door in the back of the cabin. Bishop quickly scurried on the floor to turn around and see what she was doing.

She opened the door with a dramatic flourish and it promptly revealed a small room. There were people inside. Three of them, all bound in ropes, considerably more securely than Bishop was. They all had a sac over their heads to prevent them from seeing anything. They were conscious and they all writhed and thrashed. No sound at all was coming out of their mouths though – not even a muffled one.

"Welcome, to your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood."

…

"Your actions in Riften have certainly proven that you are worthy of our attention," the woman began talking again, but Bishop felt like he could hardly hear her anymore.

Fuck. The Dark Brotherhood?! Fuck!

They've seen him! They've had this shit on him! And… did she fucking say 'initiation'?! They wanted him to be an assassin?!

And what would they do to him if he refused?

"There was… finesse in that. But the best part… pinning the murder of an important man on your enemy. How… ingenious. I am curious how this tale will end," she chuckled. Just how much did she know?! "But that is not what matters here. What matters is that Sibbi Black-Briar is dead by your hand. And you have earned your chance to become part of our Family. To become our Brother."

Well… it was better than being the target of their assassinations, probably. That may have been why he wasn't subdued like the others. Who were the others anyway? What were they doing there? Future victims? Or witnesses?

It made him think back on how he got abducted and what happened to Aeyrin and the others. This woman wanted to cooperate? She may as well tell him what she did then.

"What did you do with them? The people at the camp?" he growled hatefully. He really hoped that she did nothing. She wanted to recruit him, not to antagonize him, right?

"I didn't need to do anything with them. None of them even saw me. Neither did you," she chuckled. "There is no contract on any of your friends, why should I concern myself with them? I got what I came for," she nodded resolutely. That was a fucking relief. "I admit, it is a bit more challenging to keep track of your movements in the wilderness, but we did manage to track you to that camp. It took a little longer to arrange everything here, but, fortunately, you didn't go anywhere."

How nice for her…

"'Arrange'?" he gestured with his head to the three disturbingly silent people in the closet. Even their movements didn't make a sound. That could have been muffling magic, but what about their voices? More magic? He really wasn't privy to all the uses that magic had – he never concerned himself with finding out.

"They are part of the test. What did you think an initiation would involve?" the woman smirked. "You will pass the test and then you will join our Family as the newest Brother. You certainly proved that you have the potential."

'Potential'… she surmised that from what he had done to Sibbi? It didn't feel any different than killing Neeshka. Well… he was definitely calmer during that and he was capable of thinking much more easily. It could have been the familiarity of the situation. He thought that it was only because he was absolutely sure that nobody was around. He was wrong, apparently.

But he only did this to get rid of any connection that the Brotherhood could have had with him and Aeyrin. Didn't Sibbi plan on calling them to his service? Weren't they allies? Was this just some weird trick to actually get revenge?

"Sibbi was your ally. All the Black-Briars are," he threw the woman a suspicious look. It was so weird to talk so openly in front of those people, but he was pretty sure that they were either deafened in some way or… or they wouldn't actually be getting out of there. He would be lucky if he got out of there and he seemed to be in a less dire situation than the three of them.

"'Allies'? Is that what you think? The Brotherhood has no 'allies'. The Black-Briars think they have some pull, that they can cajole some 'favors' out of us. It's no alliance – they call and they pay like anyone else. They just like to use our reputation as a political pull," she chuckled in derisive amusement.

"And you let them?" Bishop scoffed. Why would the fearsome assassins let their name be dragged out by some nobles like that?

"And why not? It only reinforces the fear of our hand for the masses. And, as you can see, we care nothing for them personally. Sibbi was a brat that would eventually try to make demands of us because he had bought into his mother's posturing. Trust me, he would have died soon enough anyway." Even though her lips were hidden, Bishop could practically see the malicious grin on her face. "But then, we wouldn't be able to see your potential, would we?"

Great… how 'lucky' he was to be targeted by them.

He wasn't sure why he was feeling so strangely calm through all of this. He was kind of panicking, sure, and he had a million questions on his mind, a million unpleasant outcomes that would come out of this shitty situation. He still didn't even know how long he was out or where he had ended up. It was strange that he was feeling somewhat… resigned. He had absolutely no plan of action here – he wasn't even able to think of one. All he could do was to wait to see how this was all gonna play out.

"What about them?" Bishop nodded at the three people in the closet as he writhed a little against his binds.

"I have silenced them, for now. But I'm more than happy to break the spell, if you'd prefer to hear them plead for mercy," the woman said matter-of-factly. A spell. Good to know. It was probably good to know that she was capable of some magic, in case he needed to defend himself. He was definitely not eager to hear some helpless saps beg in front of him though. He'd had enough of that for a lifetime already. It would only bring up pointless memories of the jobs he used to do for Thorn.

"Not really. Why are they here?" he growled.

"They are part of your initiation," the woman explained. She walked a bit to position herself behind Bishop where he could not see her and, a second later, he could hear the faint metallic sound of a blade being pulled out from its sheath.

He froze.

She wouldn't kill him, would she? She wanted him alive, to be a part of the Brotherhood. She had said that their numbers weren't what they used to be – she wouldn't just kill her… 'potential', right?

As much as he tried to rationalize this, he still couldn't help but flinch when he felt the blade at his back. Fortunately, it moved down swiftly until pressed against the leather of his boot. With a quick cut, his legs were freed of the binds.

"Up," the woman commanded. He didn't even question it, not now. He scrambled to get up on his feet and, surprisingly enough, the woman helped him stand up and steady himself. His legs were numb, but she held him by his flanks for a little while, as if she could tell that he needed it.

That was… weird. She almost seemed… kind, despite the unsettling situation. It made him even more nervous.

"Like I said, there's a test. A simple one. One of these people has a contract on their head. It is up to you to find out which one. And kill them. I can dispel them. Or… not. You can unmask them. Or not. Your choice," the palpable smile in her voice was disturbing.

Well… he was kind of expecting something like that. What else would an initiation involve, when there were three helpless people bound in that decrepit cabin? It was hardly a challenge for an assassin to kill someone incapacitated like that, right? Was the test to determine which one it was? Why should he need to know that? How would he know that? Anyone could have paid for a contract for anyone after all. The Brotherhood just went wherever they were told, didn't they? They didn't determine whether their target deserved it, or anything like that. Why was this up to his judgment?

Maybe it was a trick.

She probably wanted him to kill all three, as some idiotic show of how 'nobody is safe from the Brotherhood' or some shit like that. As if he needed a reminder…

He could tell her to dispel them. He could listen to their begging and crying, listen to them plead and tell him over and over that they're innocent. As if it mattered. He had no desire to do that.

He looked at the woman expectantly without saying a word.

She nodded. Within a second she was behind his back again and he felt the cold edge of her blade on his wrist. He was freed only a short while later.

He rubbed his wrists that burned after the ropes. Still, it wasn't so bad – the bindings were definitely not tight enough for it to really hurt. The woman didn't try to use fear alone to get her way. She was trying to placate him too. It was no wonder. After all, she wanted him to join. He was sure that she would have no qualms about killing him right then and there if she had to, but for now, she wanted this to play out more… amicably.

She stepped to Bishop's side and, much to his surprise, she delicately gripped her dagger by the blade and presented the hilt to him.

She was gonna let him use a weapon? He was kind of thinking that he would be expected to strangle them or something.

Was she seriously arming her prisoner?!

This was… so suspicious. Everything just looked like a trap. He had to keep reminding himself that she didn't think of him as an enemy. Did she not realize that she had abducted a complete stranger that she was arming now?

Maybe she had a reason to believe that he would comply. She certainly knew a lot about him… maybe she was certain because of what they had observed. Certain that he would do what she wanted him to in order to protect himself.

She wasn't exactly wrong about thinking that.

Bishop gripped the dagger firmly and looked at the three helpless people in front of him.

It sounded so easy – just kill them.

They would die today anyway.

…

"Are you sure that you aren't overreacting, Aeyrin?" Saadia interrupted the tense silence as they all traipsed through the Hjaalmarch swamps, following Karnwyr closely.

Saadia's reaction to the situation was somewhat understandable. She was trying to stay with her feet firmly on the ground, rationalizing some possible scenarios to calm herself. It was not working for Aeyrin, however. It was only making her more snappy.

"I mean… he could have gone somewhere nearby, in a completely different direction. I don't know, for some privacy maybe? Or he could have gone hunting, or…" Saadia continued.

"With his bare hands?" Aeyrin scoffed. Their camp was packed within a few minutes and by the time Karnwyr answered the calls, they were ready to go wherever he would take them. Aeyrin considered sending Lydia and Saadia back on their way, but Lydia wouldn't allow that. She had been silent the entire time, but it was clear that she had only been increasingly more worried.

These were uncharted waters for her after all. And she was dragged into whatever mess this was again. She would really have been better off not knowing Bishop and Aeyrin. But… then she might have never been with Saadia. Or she would… and the Thalmor would bring a whole mess of trouble onto them anyway.

"I don't know… why not? Wouldn't it have been better to search the area around the clearing? He wasn't gone that long."

"Saadia," Aeyrin turned her eyes to her with a serious expression, but she continued walking briskly. She was not willing to stop for a second. "The wilderness is dangerous and Bishop and I have a lot of enemies. We have to look out for each other. We don't just go wandering around without even telling the other anything, ever."

"I… get that. I was just trying to…" Saadia sighed. Aeyrin knew that she was trying to calm herself and everyone else down by coming up with some more soothing explanation.

"I know. It's not helping. I need to find him," Aeyrin scowled at her.

Karnwyr had a trail to follow at the creek – something that made him very riled up and uncomfortable. It certainly wasn't Bishop's scent. The wolf had lost the trail some time ago, but they were determined to continue in the same direction – it was really the only logical thing to do in the swamp, there weren't exactly any roads or forks to confuse them. Whoever it was, they would have just crossed the swamp straight to their destination.

But still, Aeyrin hoped desperately that Karnwyr would actually manage to pick up Bishop's scent soon, now that the first lead was gone.

…

"Come now, it is easy. You have done this before," the woman chuckled at Bishop.

He stood rigidly in front of the three people. Even without making a sound, he could see the fear. They huddled together, despite their tight restraints and the writhed and twisted as much as they could.

"Wasn't it so simple? To slit the girl's throat after she had threatened you? To silence Sibbi after you have learned his secrets?" her voice was seeping into his ears unpleasantly. It was easy. It only got hard afterwards. But the deed… there was no difficulty making a decision. The decision had always been made, right the second when he saw an opportunity.

He clutched the dagger in his hand more firmly while he kept staring at them below his feet.

It was such a familiar sight.

It had been easy before too. When he did things for Thorn, it was so easy to do whatever he had told him to. It was only hard after, remembering those moments.

"Some Brothers and Sisters claim that it is easier to imagine someone in their stead. Someone you want dead. For you… perhaps someone who threatens your own comforts in life. Someone who would take away what you have fought for."

That was… easy to imagine. There were a lot of people who threatened his life or Aeyrin's life. There were people who threatened to dismantle everything that the two of them had, everything that the two of them had fought tooth and nail to hold onto.

He could just imagine one of those people.

Did he even have to?

He clutched the dagger again even more tightly. This time, he was determined to act.

He didn't have to think about their enemies, not about Mercer or Ulfric, or any other fucker that tried to ruin their life. He didn't have to imagine their faces in place of those before him.

After all, one of them was right here.

His wrist twisted sideways and, with all the strength he could muster, he plunged the dagger into the woman's stomach.

The Myriad Realms of Revelry would run dry before he submitted to yet another vicious master. He would not allow anyone to blackmail and manipulate him like that again. Submitting never helped. It only made things worse and it only cost Jules his life. This time, it would be different. He would not be running around, doing the Brotherhood's bidding only to alienate Aeyrin and to have her inevitably be used as a bargaining chip.

If he was going down, he was going down fighting this.

A gasp escaped the woman's throat when the dagger pierced her flesh and she sputtered some blood on Bishop. She wasn't dead yet, of course. She was too fast and he needed to take her by surprise. Now he had the opportunity to slit her throat.

But it seemed as if his move had been anticipated.

The woman pressed the palm of her gloved hand into his bare chest. The hand didn't seem even a little weak, despite her injury. Before he managed to react, a sharp stabbing pain spread through his breast and she yanked her hand across his torso, leaving an open gash behind. It seemed like there was a blade protruding from her wrist for some reason.

The pain hit him mercilessly, but he had endured much worse in the past. Regardless, in his shock, the grip on the blade in his hand weakened and the dagger clattered down onto the floor.

Bishop stepped back from her quickly. She was obviously more armed then it seemed. If he bent down to pick up the weapon, she could have killed him quite easily. She didn't seem too fazed by the gaping wound in her stomach.

Well… time to run.

If nothing else, he knew how to pick his battles.

He dashed towards the only other door in the cabin while his chest burned intensely from the slash. At least it wasn't a mortal wound.

It would only be mortal if he was somewhere in the middle of nowhere, without any chance to heal himself.

Fuck, don't think about that!

He pressed on the door handle but, predictably, it was locked. The woman still stood there where he had left her and her hand clutched her stomach. He could still get out. He could still do this.

He smashed himself against the door and a loud crack echoed through the room. The door didn't break yet, but there was no time to lose. The woman could lunge at him at any second.

He threw himself at the door again and again, continuously accompanied by loud cracks of the old moldered wood.

Finally, after three attempts, the door budged and, instead of the hinges, the wood gave way. The planks cracked in the middle and the top half of the door fell down onto the ground outside with a loud squelch.

At least that told him that he was in the swamps, and he could see the dead trees through the hole now. He was relatively close to their camp. Only two hours away at most – that was how long it would take to cross the swamp to the camp near the center from practically anywhere in it.

Ignoring the pain in his chest, he made a high step and flung his leg through the hole, swiftly followed by the other. He was out. Now he needed to run before she managed to regain herself and caught up with him.

He broke into a fierce run, vaguely registering his surroundings. He could see the shore of the Sea of Ghosts to his right and Solitude perched atop a cliff in the distance – that meant that he was all the way in the northern edges of Hjaalmarch. He just needed to run south to reach the camp.

He didn't let up but, from time to time, he looked behind his shoulder to check if he was followed.

He didn't see anyone. Maybe the woman stayed there to lick her wounds. But then again, maybe he just didn't see her. He'd never seen any of them before.

He still ran but, soon enough, his legs started to feel heavy. He was predictably tired, but he couldn't stop until he got to safety.

'Safety'… pfft… as if there was any ever. He'd been monitored by these people for months without ever even suspecting it!

The pain in his chest didn't get any easier to manage – quite the opposite actually. It was burning more and more intensely. His arms started to feel weak too and there was a strange feeling in his stomach. An oddly familiar feeling.

He ran a few more paces until the cabin was far from his view. He still wasn't out of the woods by any means, but his strength was leaving him steadily. What was going on? He surely had more endurance than that!

The familiar feeling in his stomach got more intense and after a second, he couldn't take it anymore. He stopped by one of the dead trees to double over and throw up. It didn't help at all. The feeling was back within a second.

That was when he recognized it.

Poison.

Not just any poison either. He knew this one. It used to be a personal favorite of Thorn's. He used it in his torture sessions often. Bishop was very familiar with it. It would leave him weak and sick and helpless for hours. And after that, he would die.

Strangely enough, it wasn't as daunting as it probably should have been.

Thorn didn't kill his men.

There was an antidote. One that Bishop knew too well. He'd received it several times before and he even had to ambush the caravans carrying the ingredients for it. He knew how to make it. At least in theory. Someone with alchemical knowledge would know how to brew it for certain. Maybe even Aeyrin would have some practice brewing antidotes, but he wasn't sure if her training had involved that.

Fine… he just needed an apothecary. He could do that, right? Morthal wasn't that far.

He started to run again, even though he felt like falling to the ground in his weakened state.

Why wouldn't the woman use an immediately lethal poison? Perhaps she had no choice – this was what she had on her hidden blade. Or was this another idiotic test? To see if he survived that? She certainly seemed to have anticipated his attack, she must have considered that eventuality.

Maybe that was why she didn't bother following. He would either die from the poison, or he would 'prove himself' and she would try to recruit him again.

It hardly mattered now though. He just needed to reach Morthal.

He didn't have any money, but the alchemist wouldn't refuse him in this state right? Maybe he could even demand the Jarl's help. She was still grateful for their help with the dragon and the vampires after all. Or maybe that Redguard mage would help him out. He did help Aeyrin before.

Yeah… everything would be fine.

He just needed to reach Morthal.