The King in Rags
They stood for a moment at the top of the wooden scaffolding that overlooked the main chamber of the mine. It was large with a high ceiling and a fire burned at its heart. There was a gate on the far side where a brutish looking giant of an Orc stood guard. His face was painted into the likeness of a skull and he scowled menacingly about him. Those who sat by the fire were thin and pale, hunched over the flames as close as they dared to get. They all avoided the Orc and one another, keeping a distinct distance between one another.
"Why didn't we fight?" Serana asked her, "Back in the shrine."
"Those three we could have taken," Emily replied quietly, "Maybe. But the rest of the town guard. I'm pretty sure the whole guard knew about us by that point. We'd never have made it to the gates alive."
"I guess we'll have to find some way out of here then," said Serana, resting her hands on the wooden railings, "They've put us in a death trap. We'll have to watch where we step."
"The silver?" Emily asked. Serana nodded. Emily edged a little nearer, resting her head against Serana's shoulder.
"Right, I guess we should start planning our escape," she said as calmly as though they were merely planning a weekend away. Serana turned to her.
"Alright, let's get to know the other inmates," she said, "Find out what we're dealing with here."
They descended the wooden slatted slope until they reached the fire pit in the centre of the room. A man sitting by the fire looked up at them as they approached. He had a few teeth missing and a head of short grey hair. He was as thin as a rake and his eyes were sunken.
"So, you're the new lifers," he said, looking them up and down, "Different than I imagined but who am I to judge?"
"We need to see Madanach," said Serana, "Can you tell us where we can find him?"
"I can," the man replied, "But no one gets to see Madanach."
"Why's that?" Emily asked. The man turned to face her.
"Because he stays locked in his cell, that's why," he replied, "The only ones who get to see him are Thonar's little messengers and from what I understand, that partnership has been dissolved."
"You're right," Emily replied, "But we need to see him all the same."
"If you want to see Madanach you'll need to get past Borkul the Beast," said the man, indicating the Orc standing by the iron gate. He was wearing a curiously amused smile as he spoke, "But I would advise against that. I heard he once ripped a man's arm off and beat him to death with it. He's old-fashioned like that." Emily blanched at the thought but turned to Serana.
"I don't think we've an awful lot of choice," she said. They left the fireside and approached the Orc standing by the gate. He looked up when he saw them and an ugly grin spread across his tusked features.
"Ahh, the new meat," he said, "So soft, tender. Tell me, what was it like killing your first one?"
"I don't like killing," came Emily's response, "If I could have avoided it I would have."
"Pah, weak, the gods put killers on Nirn to fill their halls with souls," he replied, "You can't carry that burden, then you're weak."
"As thrilling as it would be to get into a theological discussion with you on the necessity of murderers, we have more pressing matters," said Serana, folding her arms and meeting the Orc's gaze.
"Now you, I like," grinned the Orc, showing off his tusks.
"Save your compliments," said Serana, "We need to see Madanach."
"You want to see, Madanach, you have to pay the toll," replied the Orc, his grin vanishing, "One shiv."
"Fine," said Serana, "We'll get you your shiv."
"What's a shiv?" Emily asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
"A small blade, easy to conceal," Serana explained, "Someone in here is bound to have one."
"Did I hear you say you need a shiv?" asked the prisoner sitting by the fire, "Grisvar usually has a spare. Paranoid old Nord dreads the day his usefulness is at an end. You can find him up the other end of the mine. Keeps to himself, doesn't talk to anyone. Good luck."
Off from the main chamber ran two stone tunnels that each led down deeper into the mines. As they left the main chamber they could feel the weight of the stone pressing in on them from all sides. The tunnels were lit by pale candlelight and here and there moss grew out from in between the cracks, signally the presence of small deposits of underground water. They found Grisvar, a balding old Nord, toiling at the far end of the tunnel. Emily could see the glint of silver glimmering from between the rocks he was striking at with his pickaxe.
"Grisvar?" asked Emily as they reached him.
"Depends on who's asking," replied the man without breaking from his work.
"We need a shiv," said Emily, "We were told you might have one."
"You were told correct," Grisvar replied, "So, you want to protect yourself. Well, I think I can get you what you need. But perhaps you could do something for me first."
"What exactly do you need?" Emily asked.
"Duach has a bottle of skooma, the good stuff," Grisvar explained, "I'm shaking just thinking about it." Emily remembered what skooma was; a narcotic, deceptively dangerous to those who drank of it. Now that she looked at Grisvar she could see the mark it had left in the way his hands shook as he held the pick and in his pallid face with its sunken eyes which twitched nigh constantly. Emily saw their was little to be done to help the poor wretch so they agreed to his demands.
They found Duach at the opposite end of the mine. He had taken a break from mining and now rested with his back to the wall. He was one of the younger inmates and though bowed his spirit was not yet broken. He had dark hair and eyes and watched their approach warily.
"Other prisoners get suspicious if they see us talking," he said, "Makes them think we're plotting something. What do you want?"
"We heard you might have a bottle of skooma," said Serana.
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't, who's asking for it?" Duach asked.
Before Serana could reply Emily blurted out, "M-me," she said. Her entire demeanour had changed. She was stooped and trembling from head to foot. Her eyes had gone wide and staring.
"I haven't had any in near over a week," she continued, tugging at the skin of her face and trembling all the more.
"Your need is greater than mine then, friend," said Duach, reaching into one of his pockets and dropping a small purple vial into Emily's trembling hands, "Old gods keep you."
"Th-thank you," she said, "Thank you."
As they left the tunnel Emily's trembling ceased on the instant and she looked up at the vampiress.
"That sound alright?" she asked, "Or was I a little overdramatic?"
"Perhaps the stammer was a bit overplayed," Serana replied with a slight smile, "Otherwise, not bad."
They took the bottle of skooma back to Grisvar who handed them a small blade made from sharpened flint whose handle was wrapped tightly in strips of cloth.
"Promise me you won't use it on me," he said as Emily slipped it onto her belt.
"You have my word," she replied.
They left Grisvar and returned to the main chamber where they handed it over to the brutish Orsimer.
"Fine, a deal's a deal," he said as he dropped the key into Emily's outstretched hand, "But you watch yourself around Madanach, he knows more than you think."
"We'll be sure to keep that in mind," Serana said coolly as Emily unlocked the gate. She deposited the key into her pocket as they made their way along the narrow tunnel. They passed a locked iron gate through which a faint breeze was blowing. It ruffled their hair and made the candles in their lanterns waver.
At the far end of the tunnel they came to a small chamber. It was furnished with a bed, a writing desk and a chair. Seated at the writing desk was a man with long white hair and a scraggy whiskered moustache. He did not look up from his writing but a momentary pause in his writing signalled that he'd taken note of their presence.
"Well, well, look at you," he said, "The Nords have turned you into an animal. A wild beast caged up and left to go mad." He stopped writing and turned to face them.
"So, my fellow beast," he continued, "What do you want? Answers about the Forsworn? Revenge for trying to have you killed?"
"Speak for yourself," Serana replied, an edge to her voice, "The only animal I see here is you."
"Hmph," he grunted, "Your kind are a blight on this land, Nord. You don't even see the suffering your kind cause."
"Yes, yes, I've heard all this before," Serana replied, rolling her eyes, "Blight on the land and all that."
Madanach cast her such an ugly look that Emily distinctly wished she still had her blade. "We just want our freedom," she blurted out.
"You want freedom?" said Madanach quietly, "Well, so do we. I can help you get your freedom but only when you understand our cause. Speak to Braig and you will see how widespread the injustice of Markarth is." With that he returned to his writing. Serana and Emily retreated back a little ways along the tunnel. Already Emily could see that Serana had no interest in hearing what this Braig had to say and, honestly, neither did she. Nothing could justify what had almost come to pass in the marketplace or the events that followed any more than she could justify the idea taking form in her mind.
Serana caught her glance and, knowing what the Earthling was thinking, nodded. Her palms crackled with energy as they turned back towards Madanach's cell.
The old Reachman was ready for them as they rounded the corner, lightning flashing from their hands. He readied a ward which blocked their magicks, drawing a shiv from his belt as he rushed them. Already Emily could hear shouts and outcries coming from the other prisoners back in the main chamber as they leapt to their King's defence. Serana ducked as the King in Rags made a slash at her throat before loosing another bolt of lightning. Sparks arced about the room, smashing bottles perched on the old barrels in the corner, scorching the desk and ricocheting off the metal gate that stood just a little way back along the tunnel. In his hurry to close the distance between them Madanach had left himself exposed. Emily loosed a bolt of energy which struck him full in the chest. With a groan he toppled to the earth. Emily hurriedly fished about in his pockets as the shouts from outside grew louder. In their haste to reach their King the Reachmen had hindered themselves, blundering into the tunnel and quickly blocking it with their bodies. They caught sight of the two vampiresses as the shorter of the two was fumbling with the lock of the gate. The nearest yelled and brandished a shiv, his bearded face a mask of fury.
"Come on," Emily said through gritted teeth, eyes feverishly flicking between the key in the lock to the approaching Reachmen, "Open already." Serana loosed a bolt of lightning that struck the nearest prisoner. He staggered back, crying out in a mixture of pain and anger.
"What's the hold up?" Serana asked between casting spells.
"The stupid key won't turn," Emily grunted, wrenching at the key, "Come on, damn you." Finally, with a rusty ker-chunk, the key turned and the gate swung open. Firing one last burst of lightning, they hurtled off down the tunnel.
Their footsteps echoed in the tunnel and the outcries gradually faded from earshot. They noticed, as they ran, that sticking out of the walls and floor were strangely carved rocks and chunks of bronze metal. They came to a halt briefly next to one such chunk of metal. Emily leant against the wall, resting a hand on her chest as she peered back around the corner.
"Phew," she said, sinking to the ground. She looked around. "Dwemer ruins," she said.
"I suppose we shouldn't be surprised," Serana replied, "The whole city's built into the ruins of Nchuand-Zel, an ancient Dwemer city."
"Which reminds me," said Emily, "We've still got the same problem as before: getting through the city unscathed, only," she tugged at her ragged clothes, "Only now we're more conspicuous and vulnerable than ever."
"Conspicuous maybe," said Serana, "But not vulnerable. We still have our magic." She held out a hand to Emily. "Come on, we'd better keep moving."
Emily took her hand and they set off again down the tunnels. The deeper they went the more the earth and rock of the tunnel gave way to Dwemer stone and metal until at last they came to a great bronze door. The tunnel had subsided over the centuries and the door was at an angle. Emily tugged at it, fearing at first that it might not open. At last, with both of them heaving at it, it creaked open and they stepped into the darkness beyond.
Their eyes quickly grew accustomed to the gloom. Ahead they could see the eerie turquoise glow of a Dwemer gas lamp and the rubble strewn floor lit by the pale glow. The ruins they found themselves in were littered with the remains of Dwemer furniture; spindly legged dressers and chairs, tattered banners inscribed with the insignia of the Dwemer and bronze shelving lying half buried in the rubble. In some areas the walls had fallen in and had been partially reclaimed by the natural caverns and tunnels.
At one point they found themselves standing before a tall ledge lit by a brazier that evidently had not come from the time of the Dwemer. Emily stood at the foot of the ledge and knelt down, giving Serana a boost up onto the ledge. The vampiress then turned and took hold of Emily's hand, pulling her up after her.
"Do you think we've lost them yet?" Emily asked. Serana stared back the way they'd come.
"I don't know," she replied, "But I don't think we want to wait around to find out."
"Right," said Emily as she made her way onward into the tunnels, "Where do you think these ruins go?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Serana replied, "Best care scenario: they head right outside Markarth and we don't have to worry about our escape."
"We'll be outlaws, you know," said Emily.
"Only in the Reach," Serana replied as she picked her way over a boulder, "The Jarls of Skyrim only track crimes within their own hold. Only something as serious as murdering the High King like our good friend Ulfric will gain you the attention of all of Skyrim."
They came to a section of the ruins that was thick with webbing. Emily took a deep breath. "I hate spiders," she muttered under her breath as they passed under some trailing lengths of web that hung from the ceiling in sheets. The first spider they came to was a dead one, legs curled in tightly on themselves as it lay on its back in the corner. Even in death the sight of the arachnid made Emily shudder instinctively. They could hear heavy footed scuttling coming from further along the tunnel and she and Serana readied a lightning spell. Emily was carrying the shiv she had recovered from Madanach's body but it would be a pretty poor weapon, she realised, against most that they were likely to encounter underground.
The spiders occupied a large cavern. On the far side they could see another tunnel leading off. Emily watched the spiders for several moments. It looked to her that they hadn't yet spotted them though with their eight beady eyes it was hard to tell. She dispelled the lightning from her palm and instead focused on sensations of vanishing, of becoming indistinct and unreal. Serana followed suit as her companion vanished from sight, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air. They crept around the perimeter of the cavern, past the spiders. At the slightest sound they stopped and watched the arachnids but each time the spiders seemed not to have taken them under their notice.
At last they reached the tunnel and crept up the worn steps. They shimmered back into visibility as they reached the top and beheld the chamber they now stood in. Partially in ruins, it looked to have once been a grand walkway with a stone platform running along its heart. It was lit on either side by braziers set at the top of stone pillars. Bronze piping ran across the room from one side to the other and from the ceiling down past the walkway to the floor below. There was a centurion holding rig set up at the far end of the walkway but this was mercifully empty. The ceiling above them was uneven and bulging with several rocks packed together in such a way that they looked as though the slightest movement would jar them loose and bring them crashing down onto the walkway. They crept warily beneath this, looking up at the rocks as they passed by. The air in the cavern was stifling as steam still gushed from some of the metal grills on the pipes. But cutting through the heat was a cooler gust of air. It smelt fresh, it smelt of life. They made their way down off the walkway and followed the final tunnel upwards.
At last it brought them to a bronze door like the one they had entered the ruins by. It was from here that the fresh air was emanating from, blowing in under the door and through the cracks. Emily signalled to Serana to stand back before tugging at the door. She opened it a crack and peered out.
"Damn," she swore under her breath as the wind ruffled her hair, "We're still in the city." Serana came up behind her and peered out. It was nighttime and the streets were cloaked in darkness. From here they could see the steps that led to the temples of Talos and Dibella.
"Alright, I think our best bet would be to go down by the riverside district and out through the gates from there," she whispered, "We'll blend in more with the beggars in these rags." Emily nodded.
They stepped out of the door and closed it behind them before edging along the street. They had not gone far when a voice from the shadows stopped them in their tracks. It was a voice they recognised and they turned to see the nobleman from the treasury house standing in the shadow of one of the pillars.
"My eyes inside Cidhna Mine tell me that Madanach is dead," he said, "You've done the Silver-Bloods a great service. I've had the Jarl give you an official pardon, both of you and I've taken care of a few other loose ends."
"So, we're free to go?" Emily asked.
"As free as anyone else in this world is," Thonar replied, "Here, take this, it's my family's ring. Consider it compensation for having you unlawfully imprisoned. And here, all your gear, everything the guards took from you, including your curious Dwemer bracelet." He was holding up Emily's watch. Emily accepted the ring and their belongings from the man. Truth be told she wanted to hit him and one glance at Serana told her she wasn't the only one. But, she figured, it might be a better plan to get out of this city without any more incident and so she let the man walk away.
They retreated back into the alcove to pull their armour on over the ragged clothes. Emily pulled on her boots and refastened her watch about her wrist.
"Come on, I think we can make it to Karthwasten by daybreak," she said as Serana belted her dagger at her hip, "I don't know about you but I don't want to spend a minute longer here than we have to."
"Agreed," Serana replied as they descended the stone steps and made for the city gates.
"Looks like we're back to square one," said Emily as they passed through the gates and into the chill night air, "With poor Eltrys dead, we're not going to get our hands on that stone. Got any ideas?"
"I think for now we'll just leave it," Serana replied, "Let's get to Karthwasten first, have a decent rest, a bath and then we can think about stone."
Karthwasten was a small mining settlement Northeast of Markarth. The journey took them along a cobblestone road that overlooked a ravine. At the bottom of the ravine the Northern Karth river surged. A great storm had set in a few days ago during their journey to Markarth and now the rivers were bulging, close to bursting their banks. They had heard the rain as they camped out in a cave not far from the river and listened to it lashing off the cobblestones and the wind as it shook the branches of the juniper trees.
They met no one on the road to Karthwasten and it was very nearly dawn before they reached the base of the hill on which the village was located. Emily felt relieved at the sight of the lights winking at them from the windows and smoke coming up from the chimneys. The Inn was located on the edge of town, close to the mines and served as a boarding house for the workers as well as any passing travellers. The innkeeper was an old Orc with a rotund belly and dark whiskery sideburns set on either side of a large jaw with two protruding tusks. He was an amiable enough sort particularly once the rooms had been paid for an after Emily handed him a small pouch of gold coins he showed them to a room in the back, close to the kitchens. The room was warm and the bed, though a little shabby, was comfortable enough. A wooden tub stood in one corner and as neither felt inclined to wait for the other to bathe, they both elected to save the hot water and bath together.
Emily sank back into the bubbles with a contented sigh, closing her eyes.
"What a day," she said. It was strange to think that all that had come to pass had taken place in just over a day, from the attempted murder in the marketplace to their imprisonment and finally their escape. "I'm glad we didn't think to try and build our house out here."
"Mmm," came Serana's response. She had taken a book from her bag and was reading, taking care to keep the pages far from the water. On a sudden impulse she leaned over, resting her head on Serana's shoulder.
"What shall we do tonight, Sera?" she asked, "Stay here or shall we just go home?" As she closed her eyes she felt an arm about her shoulders.
"We'll see what tonight brings, Em," Serana replied, "Maybe someone here can provide us with the stone we need."
"Yeah, maybe," Emily said dozily as sleep began to take hold and she nodded off against the vampiress' shoulder.