Chapter 5

Gogron said very little for the remaining hours of the ride. Dree began to suspect, as time went on, that he had not escaped injury as completely as she'd thought. She still tightened her grip involuntarily when the horse jumped, and the Orc tended to twitch when they landed, as if it hurt. At least he wasn't bleeding. She was sure, with the grim certainty that was growing on her more and more, that she would be able to tell.

I still don't get him. Given where she'd met him and what he'd done, his behavior toward her seemed unreal. He kills people for a living, and he's so thorough at it that you can barely recognize them afterwards, and he offered the blood from his veins to a complete stranger. And when he'd mentioned that he'd had a relationship with a Bosmer before, it was only natural that she suspect his motives, riding out here in the middle of nowhere. Her experience of the opposite sex quite naturally consisted of a hard-learned knowledge that you didn't go places with them alone, you didn't let them get you behind a locked door they had the key to, and sometimes you just had to kick them really hard and dive out the window and run. It didn't matter how kind they seemed. Seeming was easy.

So far, Gogron gro-Bolmog seemed to be going out of his way to prove her wrong. He keeps treating me like... Like just somebody he knows, like the Khajiit or Ocheeva. Maybe he was really off Bosmer for the present. Or maybe it was just the other side of the coin. Maybe if you spent part of your time in that infernal rage where you knew nothing and no one except as something to kill, you were just really easygoing the rest of the time. You could never really trust someone like that, Dree told herself, with the inborn pessimism born of a short life with overmuch experience in it. You'd always wonder when you were going to do something to set them off.

The day went on, and wore away as the Orc and the vampire rode up to the walls of Cheydinhal. They left the horse at a livery stable. Gogron slung the saddlebags up over one shoulder, and they walked in through the city gate.

"Evening, Brendal," Gogron said as they passed one of the guards. The man turned to look at them, revealing himself to be a stocky Imperial.

"Who's that? Oh, Gogron, it's you. Been out for a ride?"

"Yep," Gogron said. "How about yourself?"

The guard made a pshh noise. "I wish. Been stuck inside these walls for months now. I'm thinking of joining the Black Horse Couriers just to get out of town."

"Not a great wage," Gogron said.

"That's why I haven't yet," the guard said. "Good night." He nodded to Dree. After an instant's paralysis, she nodded back.

"Night," Gogron said, and moved on.

"You talk to the guards?" Dree said, when they were out of the human's earshot.

"Sure. I have to move around in daylight sometimes, and I'm what you call conspicuous. They're not bad men."

"Have you ever had to kill one?" Dree said.

"Not here in town," Gogron said, and Dree let it go at that. He's slept four hours in two days that I've seen, and even if he's crazy, I owe him. Now's not the time to be asking questions. She followed him down the street to the empty house. The boards holding the door shut were a joke, and the casual way Gogron pulled it open anyway suggested how they had achieved their current warped condition. Dree followed him through the dust and debris to the basement door. As they went down the stairs she saw the eerie light emanating from what must be the front door to the Sanctuary. She stared at what was painted on it.

"What's that?" she said.

"The Night Mother," Gogron said. "Don't stand too close."

"Not to worry," Dree said.

Gogron reached for the handle. Dree tried not to twitch as a hissing voice came from the door. "What is the color of night?"

"What, again?" Gogron said tiredly. "You know bloody well what the color of night is. Open up."

The door remained obstinately shut. Gogron muttered something. "Fine. Sanguine, my brother."

"Welcome home," the door said sweetly, and swung open.

"I keep telling Ocheeva we have to get that thing fixed," Gogron said as they entered the Sanctuary's main room. The Dark Guardian paused in its endless circuit to clatter its teeth at them. Gogron nodded at the creature as if it were a person, so Dree did too. Maybe it is. It wouldn't be here all the time if it were summoned.

Ocheeva stood waiting for them in the dark beside one of the columns. She stood without even her tail twitching, which was something you didn't see often in Argonians. Dree knew she was there. Not the stealthiest assassin in Tamriel could hide her heart beating.

But Gogron seemed to know, too. He stopped before they reached the pillar and said, "Yeah?"

The shadow that was Ocheeva detached itself from the shadow of the pillar. The room was still dim; it was hard to divine even the bright colors on her facial scales. Or I'm losing my ability to see color. Red still seems to show up just fine, Dree thought.

"You've completed your assignment," she said.

"Beats me how you can always tell," Gogron said. "But yes. We have. They're all dead, not just Beneldren the Altmer."

"Then you've earned your bonus, for once," the Argonian said, and grinned, showing all her sharp teeth. "Congratulations. You have served the Night Mother well." She held out a sack. Gogron shifted the saddlebags on his shoulder, rebalanced them, and reached out and took it.

"Thanks," he said. "Dree did her part."

"So I understand," Ocheeva said. She turned her attention to Dree with every sign of goodwill and none of her earlier annoyance. "You've shown great potential. But I'm afraid you'll have to do a little better before you can become one of us."

"How?" Dree said.

"You must take the life of one who is not seeking yours," Ocheeva said.

Dree unraveled this silently. He did run at me with a knife before I stabbed him. "Oh," she said. "All right. Can I do that tomorrow?"

The Argonian laughed. "Very good. I'll look forward to hearing from Lucien." She faded back toward the double doors of her rooms. Gogron turned toward the living quarters. Dree went to tug one of the doors open and peer inside. A rat as large as a small dog sat in the middle of the corridor, staring at her with beady red eyes.

"Move," Dree said. The rat twitched its whiskers, then padded off behind some crates. Dree pulled the door all the way open as Gogron came in behind her. As they came out of the mouth of the hallway, Dree heard the sound of burlap rustling, and two hearts. The only problem was that the sounds seemed to come from opposite directions. Whoever was looking for something did not have a beating heart, or working lungs. There's no reason for me to be afraid of vampires, Dree told herself. I am one.

Two of the beds were occupied, one by M'raaj-Dar, one by an Argonian whose name Dree could not remember. Vicente Valtieri stood in front of the food cupboard, mostly hidden by the doors, but Dree heard him rummaging inside.

"What are you doing?" Dree said. Behind her, Gogron stumped over to his own bed and unslung his gear. She heard the clink of his armor as he started to unbuckle the breastplate.

"And good evening to you, child of Sithis," Valtieri said, without looking around. "I am looking for apples. I begin to suspect, despite his pretensions to carnivorous appetites, that M'raaj-Dar has eaten them all."

"What do you want apples for?" Dree said suspiciously.

"Because I find grapes cloying, and the strawberries are a little soft at this time of year. Ah hah." The vampire closed the cupboard doors with one hand as he held up two apples in the other. "Would you like one? In honor of your accomplishment, perhaps?"

"I'm a vampire," Dree said.

"A fact which has not escaped my notice," Valtieri said. "The necessity of blood does not preclude the intake of other substances, though they will provide you no sustenance. I myself am partial to the taste." He tossed her an apple. She caught it without taking her eyes from him.

"You mean I can eat?"

"When you wish," Valtieri said. "Though I find wine has little savor any more, alas." Dree watched him bite firmly into the apple, producing a distinct crunch. She looked back at Gogron, but he was busy trying to pry his boots off.

Maybe it's a trick, she thought. Or maybe it's something only old ones can do. She turned the apple over in her hands. It was red, and firm, perhaps a little green still. I used to like apples, when I could get them. She raised her eyes to Valtieri again. He was halfway around the apple already, and she did see him swallow. Dree risked a tentative bite. It tasted unsurprisingly apple-like. She tried another one. The juice trickling down her throat was a welcome change from what she'd been drinking recently, the sweetness washing out the taint of the day's events. And, if all of it seemed to vanish the instant it hit her stomach, even that could not rob her of the taste on her tongue.

"This doesn't change anything," Dree said, between bites. "I'm still going to kill you."

"Really?" Valtieri smiled tightly. "I suppose that when the time comes, I shall have to resort to begging for mercy. Speaking of which, I understand from Ocheeva that you have made your first kill."

"She said it didn't count," Dree said. "He attacked me first."

"Then you have not heard from Lucien Lachance. Pity." He had finished most of the apple, and Dree watched with something like bemusement as he bit off the end of the core. "I'm sure you will do better next time. If you survive. You may find staying out of Gogron's reach a little more difficult in another setting."

"I'll manage," Dree said. Her own apple was down to a core now. She went to set it down beside the crates for the rat, being careful never to fully turn her back to Valtieri.

"Your newfound speed may be of some assistance," Vicente said blandly. Dree eyed him for a moment. She supposed it couldn't hurt to ask. He'd said she could, hadn't he? And if she hated to take anything from him, well, there was no one else to ask.

"Can you see through walls?" she said.

"When I care to," Valtieri said. "And only things which are... One does not say alive. Animate."

"Can all vampires?" Dree said.

"I am not certain. I'm afraid I'm quite the social pariah," Valtieri said. "I used to correspond with a contemporary – one who kept his looks rather better than I have, I'm afraid - but I have not heard from Lovidicus in some time. It may be that we all can. It may be that you have received the hunter's sight from me."

"I see."

"There are worse things to inherit, I assure you," Valtieri said. "I sometimes wonder if my own sire was wont to burst into flames at the first touch of sunlight. I could not go out by day, as you have done."

"Gogron found me a robe," Dree said.

"Hm," Valtieri said. He swallowed the last remains of the apple core and wiped his hands firmly on the hem of his black tunic. "If you will pardon me, I must have a word with Ocheeva. At such time as you decide to end my life, you will of course find me available. Or if you have further questions. Good night."

He left the room without making a sound. Dree, who was most definitely listening, didn't even hear the door close. She only knew that it was because she went afterwards to check. She came back and found Gogron still sitting on the edge of the bed, now clad in nothing but trousers. He was dabbing sticking plaster on one or two cuts on his ribs and shoulders, where blows had driven the edges of his armor into his skin. Dree stared for a moment. She'd known, surely, that he must have taken wounds in his life. He was an assassin, right? But the panoply of scars that crisscrossed his ribs and back was still startling. He also had a very colorful bruise over his heart, where some necromancer had underestimated the thickness of his breasplate.

"Is that from a mace?" Dree said.

"I don't remember," Gogron said. "I never do. Well, mostly." He turned one arm outward, showing a small notched scar on the knotty triceps. "That's from an arrow. Only time I ever went outside without armor since I've been here, and somebody tried to snipe me. I never found out who it was, but I can guess."

"Telaendril again?" Dree said.

"She wouldn't miss," Gogron said. The space under his gold-brown eyes looked bruised in the dim light. "So it was either somebody else, or it was just for spite instead of trying to kill me. Can't kill a Brother. It's a Tenet."

"She must really hate you," Dree said.

"Un huh," Gogron said. He tucked the sticking plaster back into a tin box and put the box back into a pouch. "She thought she wanted a brute. Somebody to make her feel tough just for being with him. Problem was, she didn't want me to actually be one. And I am."

"Yes," Dree said, thinking of the bodies now rotting in the cave.

"I'm going to turn in for a while now," Gogron said. "You need anything, wake me up."

"All right," Dree said. "See you tomorrow, Gogron."

"Night." He lay down on his side without bothering to get under the blankets. A moment later, he was snoring. Dree watched this for a few moments, perversely curious to see if he would wake the others, but they did not seem to notice. They've probably all been sleeping in here for a long time. They're used to it. After a while she wandered back out of quarters. She tried to close the door without making a noise, but she heard the distinct click of the latch. So how did he do it? she wondered. Is it a vampire thing, or an assassin thing?

Sounds came from behind the doors across the main Sanctuary. A regular metallic clang-clang, like a giant chain being shaken back and forth. Dree crossed the dark room, listening. The Dark Guardian was still going around and around, apparently undisturbed by whatever-it-was. Eventually, Dree pushed the door open and slid inside.

The doors opened directly into the room, without hallway or stairs like the living quarters. Crates and barrels lay around the walls and against the pillars. Archery butts made of straw with painted targets stood against the middle of the back wall. Another target, painted on panels of dark wood, hung from the ceiling near a corner. From the scorch marks, Dree guessed it was for spell practice.

There was a practice dummy off to the far side of the archery butts. It was made of wood held together by chains, bolted to floor and ceiling so that the "legs" and "arms" formed an X. A slender Imperial crouched in front of it, slashing at its belly with a short blade. The soft thud-thunk of the knife striking the wood was barely audible, but the clang of the chains as the dummy twitched was very clear. The woman's short,pale hair fell forward around her face, hiding her features as she hacked mechanically at the wooden man. Thud-thunk. Thud-thunk.

Dree edged closer. The woman stopped at once, dagger in hand, but she did not turn.

"This step is too loud for anyone I know," she said in a mild, pleasant voice, but the accent was more Breton than Imperial. "And we have no visitors in the Sanctuary."

"Sorry," Dree said. "I fell down the well day before yesterday. My name's Dree. You must be Antoinetta Marie."

"Yes, that's me." The woman straightened and turned, but she made no move to sheath the dagger. (She wore the same dark, snug armor as Ocheeva, Dree noticed.) Her face was ordinary, not particularly pretty or ugly, forgettable. Like my face was, once. Dree had expected her to be older, but her face was unlined. She might just be an armorer, a shopkeeper, someone you met on the street. Her eyes were big and soft, like a deer's.

"You're up late," Dree said into the silence. Marie did not seem to find it awkward. She was inspecting Dree closely from head to toe. She did not answer for some seconds.

"You have the Dark Gift," was what she finally said.

It's not a gift, Dree wanted to say, but she remembered what Gogron had said about this particular assassin. "Yes," she said.

"And if you came to us here, you must have received it from Vicente," Marie went on. Her voice was cheerful, as though they were discussing gardening, or the weather. There was something wrong with her reasoning, but Dree did not see now as a good time to point that out.

"Yes, I did," Dree said.

"You are too young to have earned such a gift," Marie said. Her tone was one of mild reproach, as if Dree had suggested there was really no reason to prune the hedges.

"I think so," Dree said. I certainly hope I didn't do something to deserve this.

"Well, at least you are aware that Sithis has blessed you," Marie said, smiling a friendly and also very frightening smile. "The Dark God's ways are mysterious. Sometimes when I kill, he comes to me and fills me with the joy of suffering and death. Sometimes I feel nothing. And sometimes I want to die myself. Indeed, strange are the ways of Sithis."

"They must be," Dree said.

"Has he spoken to you?" Marie said. "Do you hear his voice?"

"Not yet," Dree said. "Perhaps I will later." Maybe if I'm very lucky, I never will. This seemed to meet with Antoinetta's approval, because she smiled again.

"It's been a long time since we had a new Sister," she said. "I see you're carrying a knife. Do you know how to use it?"

"Not very well," Dree said, grateful for a change in topic.

"Would you like to learn?"