Chapter 4:
Bandits and Blood-Drinkers
All in all it took them just under two weeks to reach the proud and ancient city of Falkreath. They were waylaid as they crossed the Whiterun plains by a sabrecat which stalked them over the course of two nights. It would stay just out of reach of the orb of magelight but they could hear it in the dark. They stayed close together on those nights and on the third night it finally tired of waiting and struck. But both Serana and Emily were ready and after a short and bloody battle the beast lay dead. Its pelt now adorned Emily's shoulders as they passed through the city gates.
Falkreath was a large city, home to many people. They were mostly Nords and a few Orcs, those left in the wake of the Great War between human and elvenkind. The Jarl's longhouse lay at the heart of the city. It was not tall and imposing like Dragonsreach nor was it noble and grand like the Blue Palace. Instead it was altogether simpler in design but no less impressive. Blue banners bearing the head of a stag flanked the door on either side. As it was late evening when Serana and Emily passed through the city gates they made straight for the longhouse, past the smithy where the rhythmic metallic clang of iron being hammered into shape could be heard, past the general store and apothecary which lay on the main street and past the tavern with its lighted windows and sign swinging in the faint southerly breeze. A few drops of rain were beginning to fall and a few dark clouds had enveloped the larger of Nirn's twin moons. A guard stood just outside the longhouse, carrying a steel broadsword and garbed in armour of deepest blue.
"Halt, what business do you have with the court?" he asked, eyeing them both through the closed faced steel helm.
"We have an appointment with Jarl Siddgeir," Emily replied, reaching into her pack and pulling out the letter. She handed it to the guard who inspected it, taking note of the blue wax seal.
"Very well," he said before letting them past. The interior of the longhouse consisted of a large main room dominated by a fire pit that ran the length of the room. Candle sconces made from what looked to be hollowed out horns sat in iron frames, throwing out a dim yellow light into the darker corners of the room. More blue banners hung on the walls and on either side of the throne sitting at the far end of the room on a small stone plinth, slightly elevated above the rest of the floor. Sitting on the throne was a man with short dark hair. He had a pointed weaselly face and wore a circlet carved from jade and beset with emerald's and a finely embroidered tunic adorned with fur, feathers and gold.
They were approached by a High Elven woman wearing flowing russet red robes. Her golden eyes flicked over both their faces, appraising each of them in turn.
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked pleasantly. She did not sound like the High Elven women in Solitude whose voices were clipped and brusque. Hers was softer and more melodic with a bit of a Bruma lilt to it.
"Yes, ma'am," Emily replied, once more handing over the letter for her to inspect.
"Ahh, so you're Emily and Serana," she said, "Wait here please." With that she handed back the letter before crossing the large room towards the Jarl's throne. Her footsteps echoed in the quiet of the hall.
"My Jarl," she said as she reached the throne, "Mistress Emily and Mistress Serana to see you." The Jarl smiled and beckoned them over lazily.
"I've been eagerly awaiting your arrival after receiving your last bit of correspondence," he said. His voice seemed as sly as his face and had a drawling sibilant quality to it. "You write with eloquence. Refreshing after the usual Nordic brutes I have to deal with."
"Thank you, my Jarl," Emily replied. She was beginning to grasp the rules of etiquette she was expected to follow when speaking with a Jarl. It still made her a bit dizzy to think that she was effectively speaking to the King of Falkreath even though he did not have the same presence as the late High King Torygg or the impeccable manners and eloquence of Jarl Elisif. Rather he gave the impression of someone used to all the trappings of a privileged life but none of the responsibility that came with it.
"You mentioned in your letter that you had some use for our services," said Serana, "May I ask what you had in mind?"
"Yes, of course," replied the Jarl, "Let's get down to business." He put his hands together and steepled his fingers.
"There's a group of bandits in my hold that I," he paused, looking from one to the other in turn, "Might have had a few discreet dealings with. They were giving me a good cut but recently saw fit to stop it. And now my Uncle is starting to stick his wizened old nose in. And what's more I think he's putting that maid of his up to spying on me." Serana and Emily glanced at one another. "He doesn't need an excuse to start relegitimising his claim to the throne," he continued, "So I'd appreciate you clearing up the evidence if you catch my drift."
Emily was about to reply when Serana cut in. "It will be done as you asked, my Jarl," she said. Emily stood, mouth still slightly open as though poised to speak. Then she closed it as Jarl Siddgeir replied.
"Excellent, it's good to finally have someone useful around. Here's all the details you'll need." He handed her a sheet of parchment on which was inscribed a map of the bandit camp's location.
"Of all the cheek," said Emily as the heavy wooden door closed behind them and they stepped out into the chill night air. "I thought Jarls were supposed to be noble. But we're just cleaning up after his underhanded deals." She turned to Serana. "Why did you say we'd do it?" Serana just smiled and rested her hand on her shoulder.
"Like it or not, Em, it's the only way we'll get our hands on that plot of land," she explained, "And look at it this way," she said, "Underhand dealings or not, those bandits will still be a threat to the people here." She looked at Emily. "And potentially right on our doorstep."
"Fair point," Emily conceded, "Where are these bandits anyway?" Serana opened the parchment and scanned the map.
"Just south of Lake Illinalta," she replied, "A little place called Pinewatch. Apparently they've been selling off wood as a front. We can reach it from the West gate out of Falkreath."
"I guess we should get going while the night's still young," said Emily, shouldering her rucksack. They made their way down the cobblestone road that would take them to the West gate. They passed the lumber mill which stood near the town walls straddling the river that ran along the south edge of Falkreath. Emily listened to the sounds of the river lapping against the bank and the talk of the guards as they passed one another in the street. It was altogether a quieter city than Solitude and one, judging by the Imperial outpost just outside the city walls, under Imperial control. The red banners adorned with the symbol of the dragon with wings spread wide flapped in the wind on the outer walls of the outpost and a tent stood close by outside which sat a small group of Imperial soldiers. They were clustered about a small fire which served as the only bastion of warmth outside the city walls.
They left the city behind and began the climb up the hill that led towards Pinewatch. As the city lights faded behind them the twin moons emerged from behind a bank of cloud, lighting the way ahead. Though Emily knew this was a grim affair they were setting off towards, she couldn't help but admire the way the moonlight danced on the needles of the pine trees and the cobblestones below that made up the road. The larger of the moons, Masser, was a great red pearl in the night sky and reminded Emily greatly of the planet Mars. It was down to it that the moonlight had a slightly pinkish hue to it.
Serana stopped as they passed a fork in the road and pointed silently to something up ahead. Emily's keen night eyes pierced the gloom and caught sight of a spindly silhouette in the distance. It was lit by two beacons of light, one at either end of the structure and after a moment Emily recognised it as a crudely built bridge straddling the road. A figure was pacing the bridge.
"Bandits?" Emily whispered to Serana.
"Maybe," Serana whispered back, "Let's go."
They crept silently into the undergrowth, leaving the cobblestones behind. Serana had taken her bow from her back and Emily followed suit. They crept along, freezing every time a dry twig snapped under one of their boots or something rustled in the undergrowth. A torchbug drifted up from a log Emily had just stepped over and she flinched momentarily from the luminescent green light as it floated past her eyes.
"Crude but clever," Serana muttered under her breath. Emily followed her gaze.
"What's clever?" she asked quietly. Serana pointed to an area just below the scaffolding on one side of the bridge.
"They've set up a toll operation," Serana explained, "Anyone who doesn't pay gets several tons of rock dumped on their heads." Emily recoiled slightly at the thought.
"Lovely people, aren't they?" she said sarcastically, "What should we do?" Serana considered their options before replying.
"We carry on," she said at last, "If one of their number breaks off and runs ahead and we don't catch them, they could warn all of Pinewatch before we reach the top of the slope." Emily nodded.
"Right," she replied, "Well, I'm ready."
And so they set off again. They crept quietly, looking back over their shoulders every now and then, checking that each of the five bandits standing on the scaffolding were still scanning the roads for possible targets. Emily breathed a sigh of relief when at last they left them behind and they could break into a run, jogging up the remainder of the slope.
Pinewatch, they soon found, appeared to be nothing more than a small farmhouse sitting at the midpoint of the slope, overlooking Lake Illinalta. Out the back was a small plot of land given over to farming a small crop of leeks and potatoes. An axe stood by a chopping block along with a large pile of firewood. Emily scanned the area just outside the house.
"How come they don't have a sentry?" she asked. Serana shrugged her shoulders. Emily took a lockpick from her pocket and crouched down by the door. She put her ear to the wood for a moment, listening out for any activity inside. Finding none she inserted the pick into the lock and wedged her pocketknife in alongside it. She moved the pick slowly, listening for the telltale click of the tumbler. At last, with a satisfying click, the door swung open and Emily moved silently across the threshold, dagger drawn and closely followed by Serana. What they found themselves in looked to be a perfectly ordinary living space and Emily briefly wondered if perhaps the Jarl had given them the wrong address. There was a fire crackling in the grate and a small table on which lay a meal prepared for the shack's inhabitants. Emily could smell the aroma of grilled leeks and rabbit. There was a keg of mead lying next to the fireplace and a few pairs of old leather boots. Some garlic and elves ear hung in clusters from a metal rack suspended from the ceiling. In one corner there was a wooden staircase. As Emily moved toward it the wood beneath her creaked threateningly and a voice suddenly called from below.
"Is someone there?"
It was a foolish question, Serana thought, as who on Nirn would be foolish enough to reply. She altered her focus from the voice to herself and willed herself to meld into the shadows. Her physical form obliged and she signaled for Emily to do the same. Emily faded from sight just in time as a woman climbed the wooden stairs, brandishing a warhammer. She wore furs, not the traditional attire of a farmer's wife or even that of a woman living alone in the woods. Everything from the war paint on her face to the grim-looking weapon she carried screamed bandit. The woman looked around, sharp eyes taking in every detail of the room. Her jaw was clenched. Something was wrong. She shifted the warhammer more securely in her hands and turned to look into the farthest corners. She did not see the arrow levelled with the back of her head. She briefly heard the air whistle before the arrow embedded itself in her back and with an agonized scream she crumpled to the floor, her warhammer clanking to the wooden planks. Emily froze in the position from where she'd fired the arrow and waited, listening intently. But when no sounds but that of the fire popping in the grate met her ears she allowed herself to rematerialize. Serana faded back into view and they crept down the wooden staircase to the floor below.
The basement was furnished with a bed, a second fireplace and little else.
"Is that it?" Serana asked, leaning against a table, "Not very impressive, huh?" Emily didn't reply but instead cast her eye over the room. The bed looked recently slept in and there was a bowl of stew sitting by the fire. This didn't add up with what Siddgeir had told them at all. Then something caught her eye, glinting in the firelight. She stooped and picked up the object. It was a single polished gold septim. As she pocketed it she saw another. And another. A small trail of money led towards the wall and a set of shelving.
"What is it?" asked Serana, joining her.
"This trail of septims," Emily explained, dropping the coin she'd picked up into Serana's hand, "It just stops here at this shelf.
"So?" said Serana.
"Something about it…doesn't sit right somehow," replied Emily. It was true, there was something off with the whole picture. There was this shelf with the trail of coins leading to it but something didn't seem right. After a moment she saw what.
"The shelf's empty," she said quietly, "Why doesn't it have anything on it?" All the other shelves in the room were groaning under the weight of either cooking utensils, clothes irons or animal pelts. Only this one alone remained bare.
"And these coins," she continued, stooping once more, "This one here. It's wedged under the shelves." Her eyes widened as a possibility formed in her mind. "Maybe," she said, getting up and peering closely at her surroundings.
"You think there might be a hidden door?" said Serana, following her chain of thought. Emily nodded.
"Have a look around," she said, "See if anything sticks out?"
After several minutes searching Emily found what she was looking for. A smooth round button fastened onto the wall next to the bookshelf. An experimental push caused the empty shelf to swing open on large iron hinges and the coin wedged underneath skittered across the room, clinking in the stillness. They gazed into the tunnel beyond.
"A Nordic ruin," said Serana as she took a step into the stone passage, "Those fools have tunneled right into a Nordic ruin." Emily, who had since explored one or two such ruins with her vampiric companion, knew full well why she considered them fools. Nordic ruins, beset with traps, were hazardous to traverse, to say nothing of their inhabitants. Serana's foot collided with something in the dark and she looked down to see a wooden bucket filled with several bottles of wine sitting just inside the tunnel. They sidestepped them and continued on down the tunnel. It was lit at the far end by a torch and opened out onto a large chamber. It was crisscrossed with wooden scaffolding which ran between the stone pillars and below them they could make out several wooden wheelbarrows loaded up with large bits of stone. Emily recoiled as she spotted the slumped form of a person lying on the cold stone just out of reach of the torchlight. On closer inspection they found her to be an elf, an Altmer to be exact. She was dressed in the clothes of a commoner and her last scream was still etched into her face.
They left the corpse behind and made for the scaffolding. At the far end they spotted two bandits who looked to be conversing with one another. Serana nodded to Emily who nocked an arrow. "You take the one on the right," she mouthed to Serana who nodded before drawing the string of her bow taut.
Both arrows flew from their bows simultaneously and whizzed through the air. One caught the bandit on the left in the chest and he crumpled while the second embedded itself in the bandit on the right's shoulder. Emily heard Serana swear under her breath as the bandit, recoiling from the pain, drew his sword and ran in the direction the arrows had come from, away from his fallen comrade. Serana switched to her blade and they broke from the shadows. The bandit, a burly Orc, let out a bloodcurdling yell that echoed throughout the cavern and to their dismay it was answered by another. Emily heard running footsteps as they closed in on the Orc. Serana sidestepped a lunge from the brutish man and plunged her dagger into his back. As he toppled out of sight off the scaffolding the third bandit rounded the corner.
"Intruders," he yelled as he took his bow from his back and nocked an arrow. He did not see the shimmering air as he levelled his bow with Serana who stared back, poised to dodge to one side. He felt the white-hot searing pain in his back as he fell and Emily shimmered back into visibility. As he crumpled to the dirt Serana and Emily froze, listening intently. But all they heard was a stale breeze skittering loose stones across the wooden scaffolding and the soft fall of loose earth from the ceiling. Serana retrieved her dagger from the Orc where he lay in the dirt below and they retraced their steps. They found another passageway down which the scaffolding stretched. Further on it gave way to another stone tunnel like the one they had entered by. Serana's ears picked up on the faint sounds of chatter as they crept quietly along.
"How many?" Emily whispered.
Serana listened again before replying.
"Two, I think," she replied. She paused. "No, three."
At the end of the tunnel it opened out into a sizeable cavern, the main feature of which was a long rickety looking wooden table and chairs. Two bandits sat in the chairs while a third who stood at the head of the table and seemed to be regaling them with some tale or other. He was obviously deep in his cups from the way he stood and judging by the bored look on the Altmer's face as he sat with his chin in his hand, it was a story they had heard before.
Next to the table was a partially collapsed stone walkway that led up to the higher levels and stacked under this walkway and lining the walls were wooden chests, piles of ingots, pelts and a framed paintings; the bandits' ill-gotten gains.
Emily nocked an arrow and edged out from under the walkway. The Altmer's head nodded, eyes slipping shut as he wavered on the edge of a doze when his amber eyes caught the glint of metal in the dark. The air whistled as he leapt to his feet, drawing his blade. The Orc who sat next to him looked up. There was a heavy thud as the drunken Nord collapsed across the table, the shaft of an arrow sticking out of his neck.
The Altmer was the first to act, running at Emily, blade level with her chest. At the last moment he feinted and swung around to the left. Emily ducked and a cascade of sparks rained down upon her as his blade struck the stone wall behind her.
Meanwhile the Orc lunged at Serana, heavy club raised over his head . He brought it down with an almighty crash. Serana's legs were dashed out from under her as the club pinned her cloak to the stone floor. She crashed to the ground, grappling at the tightening fabric. The bandit laughed as he gazed down at the struggling vampiress and raised his club again. In an instant Serana ceased struggling. She rolled to one side and plunged her dagger deep into the Orc's leg. He roared with pain, dropping the club where it landed on the table, splitting it in two.
Emily dodged another blow and loosed a vampiric drain spell upon the Altmer. He yelled as the red light engulfed him and he dropped his blade. Emily saw her chance and ran at the Altmer, running him through. He slid off the blade with a low moan. As his breath became a shuddering gurgle before dying away they looked around.
Serana opened one of the chests lying close to the table. She pulled out a purse full of coins and stowed them in her pack.
"Hmmm… this could come in handy," she said as she lifted out a rusty old pickaxe. She tossed it to Emily who caught it and hung it from a loop on her belt. She then turned her attention to the walkway above which she scaled quickly. She picked her way around a large shattered urn and eyed another stone platform several feet away. She peered over the edge at the floor below where Serana was picking her way through the rubble. The rubble suggested that once upon a time the two stone platforms were connected by a stone bridge running between them. Emily leapt from one to the other and opened the chest on the far side. Inside lay a sum of coin, a few gems and some solid glass tubing which she pocketed. She rejoined Serana on the floor below and they continued onward.
At last they came to a wooden door set deep into the rockface. Emily opened it a crack and peered through. What lay beyond was a vast cavern. Bone chimes hung from the ceiling, designed to alert the bandits to any intruder stumbling around in the dark. These proved to be of no obstacle to the vampire raiders. As they reached a large stack of crates that afforded them some cover they heard the voice of a man.
"I told him he'd never get past the traps but he wouldn't listen." A deep gravelly voice answered.
"It was a stupid plan and now Rigel is so mad she won't even let us cut him down from there." The speaker was an Orc and he swilled the contents of his tankard as he spoke. A woman turned from the Orc to her companion.
"Aye, and she's added more traps now as well," she said, a note of dismay making itself evident in her voice. Then she raised her own tankard, "A moment of silence for our fallen friend."
The three of them drank solemnly. They did not notice the two vampires in their sorrow and by the time the Orc had drained his tankard they had gone.
They moved silently through a stone tunnel that led away from the three bandits. This brought them past several iron cages. As they passed the last one a new smell pervaded the room. It was the stench of decay. They found the source at the far end of the room where several stone sarcophagi lay open and the bodies of several draugr lay in a macabre pile, decayed mouths pulled back in silent snarls.
"Looks like they've been evicting the previous inhabitants," Emily nodded wryly to the pile of corpses.
The next room looked to be the bandits' sleeping quarters. One was sleeping on the bed at the far end of the room. He turned restlessly in his sleep as they approached and suddenly his eyes snapped open. He saw red eyes glowing in the dark and his face turned pale as he yelled.
"Vampires! Vampires in the camp!"
Serana quickly silenced him as another four bandits hurried out from the adjoining area. Three of them were Dunmeri mages and soon lightning arced and spat from every corner. Emily readied a ward and charged at the first while Serana engaged the fourth: an Argonian archer. She feinted, dodging the first of his arrows before bringing her blade up to meet his throat. As he fell an arc of lightning surged over her head and she rolled to one side as it was followed by another. Emily turned away from the first mage and dove at the second as the mage loosed another bolt of lightning. It ricocheted off the wall and in the resounding confusion struck the third mage dead. The clamour of thunder echoed around them and when it died away all the bandits lay dead and they waited for several minutes lest the cacophony should have attracted further attention from deeper in the ruins.
When none came they hastened onward. Another crudely dug tunnel like the one they had entered the sleeping quarters by brought them to a slightly smaller but no less furnished cavern. Thick lengths of rope stretched across the room in all directions and hung from these were loose lengths of thin rope. These were hung with horker tusks and bones from both man and beast. In the dim light Emily saw that the room was larger than it first appeared, divided down the middle by a wooden partition. She signaled mutely to Serana and they both stopped to listen. Then Serana heard it. Breathing, like a mortal makes when they are taking great pains not to be heard. It was coming from the far side of the partition. Drawing her blade from its scabbard, Emily led the way around the partition.
When she caught sight of the two vampires, their red eyes glowing in the dark, the woman tightened her grip on the formidable looking battleaxe she carried. She bit her lip, drawing blood.
"We're here on behalf of the Jarl of Falkreath," said Emily, "Leave this Hold if you do not wish to end up like your men."
"Pah," snorted the woman they assumed to be Rigel, leader of the marauders, "I should've known that black-hearted dog would eventually show his fangs once we stopped his cut. He was but a leech and we're doing much better now even without his so-called protection from the law." Here she spat on the ground, grinding her boot in the minute amount of moisture. She fixed them with vivid blue eyes set deep in her pointed face.
"But I am surprised at that weasel hiring the likes of a couple of filthy blood drinkers." At this Serana's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. She glanced to her companion in time to see her flinch. It was only momentary and vanished as quickly as it had come but Serana saw it just the same and it made her feel uncertain. That flicker of uncertainty vanished a moment later as Rigel stirred into action, running at them. Emily shifted her weight and sprang at her opponent. The battleaxe was raised over her head when Serana moved, seizing the opportunity while Rigel's guard was lowered, plunging her dagger into her side before Emily even reached her. It was not a fair fight with two against one but Serana hardly cared. Bandits would not show any more care when swarming a lone wagoner and few would grant mercy, even with their goods offered with no resistance.
And so Rigel fell following a second blow from Serana's dagger. Emily knew something was bothering the vampiress as she stopped to clean her blade on the tunic of the dead bandit leader but she elected not to voice it until they were back in the still night air.
On the dead body they found a key and followed another well-trodden tunnel that led away from Rigel's quarters in another direction. This tunnel was beset with traps of all makings but being of bandit design they were crude and easily avoided so long as they were spotted in time. At the end of the corridor was a heavy iron door whose lock the key fit.
The treasure room, which is what the room's purpose must have been given the large pile of gold, silver and gems of various kinds that lay at its centre, was originally a burial chamber. Embalmed long dead bodies lay in alcoves at regular intervals around the edge of the room. Emily crossed over to the table which held all the loot. The gold and gems they divided among themselves. Emily took a circlet from the pile and set it atop her head at a jaunty angle, hoping to draw a laugh from her companion. But this time there came none as they gathered the rest of their spoils. They left the silver alone as neither could bare its touch but they took the curious looking mold made for casting metal which lay on the edge of the table. The Jarl had mentioned it on the sheet of parchment, asking they obtain it for him so long as it had not already been fenced.
With their loot stowed away they left by another tunnel which took them to a concealed entrance close to where their journey into the ruins had begun.
At last they made it outside and Emily thought it was time to address her companion.
"Are you alright?" she asked, resting a hand on the vampiress' arm. She did not pull away but nor did she turn to face her.
"Is it what she said?" Emily persisted. Serana turned to her and Emily saw she had been correct in her assumptions.
"Don't think on such things, Sera," she said gently.
"But Em, it's because of me that you are a vampire," Serana replied and Emily heard the consternation in her voice, "If it had been just me she called a blood drinker-." Here Emily took hold of Serana's arm firmly and fixed her with an intense gaze.
"Serana, I do not regret the power you gave me," she said, "Without it, rather than being undead by now I would have been, well, just dead. You gave me a real chance at survival in this world. Perhaps drinking blood is not the means of feeding I would have chosen but its better than being a heap of bones in a ditch." She reached up then, cupping Serana's face gently in her hands which was rather a strange sight to be sure as she was a full head shorter than the Nord vampiress.
"Besides, being called a blood drinker," she said, "It is no worse than the names I was called back on Earth." She withdrew her hands as Serana replied.
"What names?" she asked. Emily shrugged her shoulders, giving a slight chuckle which surprised the vampiress.
"Oh, Sera, where to begin," she said, rolling her eyes, "Dyke, fag, likalotapus, all those words often followed me along the street when I was in high school." She smiled then. "Thankfully Earth has become more tolerant over time but that hatred is still there, still bubbling beneath the surface like magma," she continued, "But soon you learn that such opinions don't matter. It is the opinions of the people you love that matter."
"Who do you love, Emily?" Serana asked. Emily slipped her hand into Serana's as they started walking back towards Falkreath City.
"My family," she said, "The few friends I kept in touch with after school." She looked up at Serana. "And you." It was the first time she had spoken these words aloud to her that she could remember. Serana smiled and squeezed her fingers gently. They saw the city lights of Falkreath gleaming brightly ahead of them before long. Emily glanced at her watch. It was a little after four in the morning.
"Come on, why don't we grab a few drinks, wait out the day and go see his royal highness in the evening?" she suggested. Serana chuckled and Emily, glad the atmosphere had lifted once more fixed her gaze back on the twinkling lights and the promise of a good bottle of mead.