Chapter 11

Along with her training, Ocheeva assigned Aria chores around the Sanctuary. It was her job to keep the living area clean. Antionetta was responsible for the laundry and cleaning the main room, so the two girls shared their chores. Ocheeva also put Aria in the cooking rotation. Her turn came right before Antionetta's, so the girls shared that chore, as well. Aria made it her personal duty to prepare a separate portion of each meal for Vicente. That left Antionetta free to add as much garlic to the meal as she wanted.

Two months after the garlic incident, Vicente summoned Aria to his quarters. When she arrived and seated herself at the table, he regarded her for a moment, as though comparing her to what she had been when she arrived at the Sanctuary three months before. He was silent for so long, she grew nervous. Just as she was about to say something, he spoke.

"I have a contract for you."

Aria grinned. "Really? What is it?"

Vicente crossed his arms and began stroking his chin as he spoke slowly. "We need you to stage an...accident. Kill the target in the manner specified, and you'll receive a considerable bonus. Do you accept this contract?"

Aria only needed to think for a moment before agreeing. "I'll do it. Who's the target?"

"As I expected. Good." Vicente handed her the contract. "The target is a Wood Elf named Beanlin." He pulled a map from a pile of papers and unfolded a map from a pile of papers and unfolded it on the table. "You'll find him here at his home in Bruma. He is retired and spends his evenings sitting in his chair from 8pm to 11pm. His house is here, against the wall, second one from the gate." He pointed out the spot as Aria looked on. "The house is rather old and the fastenings of the stuffed minotaur head above his chair are surely well-worn..." His voice trailed off as he grinned at her.

Aria caught his meaning and returned the grin. "Someone had better take a look at those before an accident happens, don't you think?"

Vicente laughed, delighted that Aria understood him. Then he sobered as he remembered something. "Be warned, Aria. Beanlin keeps a manservant, a Nord by the name of Gromm. Beanlin may be an unsuspecting old man, but Gromm is not. You must find a way around him. If Baenlin is eliminated in any other manner, or if the manservant Gromm is killed, you will forfeit the bonus. Do you understand?"

Aria nodded solemnly. "Perfectly."

"Any questions?"

Aria studied the contract in front of her. "No, but if I think of something before I leave, I'll ask."

"Good," Vicente said as they both stood. He walked over and put his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eye. "Be careful, Aria. Even the clearest past can have a hidden snare."

Aria smiled at his concern. "I will, Vicente."

"Then I look forward to your report when you return. Now go, and may Sithis be with you."

The following night, Aria crept from her hiding place among the shadows behind the Bruma stables. Earlier that evening, she'd stabled her rented horse and causally disappeared behind the building. The gathering gloom had easily concealed her. Now, the moonless night did the same as she began to climb the rough city wall.

It was hard work. She wasn't used to climbing, and by the time she reached the top, her arms felt like they were on fire and her hands were torn up and bleeding. She took a moment to pull on her Shrouded gauntlets, then began the climb down the other side. Once she finally dropped to the ground, she grimaced and massaged her aching arms.

A guard walking by on his patrol caused her to freeze against the wall. The man paused, glanced from side to side, the continued on. As soon as he was gone, Aria let out the breathe she was holding and stepped away from the wall.

Second one from the gate, she thought, remembering Vicente's instructions. She found the right house and studied it, trying to determine the best way in. The front door wasn't an option. There was no servants' door. The windows were too high. Then her eyes fell on the cellar door.

Aria crept over and tried the handle. It was unlocked. She slipped inside and shut the door behind her. Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she picked her way through the shelves of food, crates, barrels, and wine racks to the door. She opened it just a crack and saw a stairway and some furniture. Voices came from the living area to the right.

As she watched, a large, middle-aged man walked past the door and took something from a cupboard. He turned to go back to the living room, then stopped. He looked around carefully, as though he sensed something. His eyes fell on the cellar door and Aria drew back as he approached. Just as his hand reached for the handle, a voice came from the living room.

"Gromm? What's taking so long?"

The manservant hesitated a moment longer, then quickly turned away. Aria heard him apologize to his master. As soon as the coast was clear, she slipped into the room and closed the door. She tiptoed up the stairs and found herself in a small hallway. A door to her right looked in on a bedroom. The hallway was interrupted by a railing that looked down into the living area before leading to another bedroom off to the left. Aria hesitated for a moment, then crept noiselessly to the railing and peeked through the bars.

Below her, an aged Bosmer sat reading in a comfortable chair across from the fireplace. Above him, a worn, dusty minotaur head decorated the wall. Aria studied the trophy. The head was huge, easily big enough for what she intended.

There was no sign of the Nord, so she sneaked into the room closer to the stairs. Judging from the lack of furnishings, this was the manservant's room. She crossed to the far wall and began feeling around, hoping there was a passage behind the wall. That minotaur head had to be fastened somewhere. Her questing fingers were rewarded when she found a couple of finger holds in one of the boards. She gave a gentle push and discovered that several boards pushed back, then slid to the side.

She crept into the dusty passage and slid the door shut behind her, keeping close to the wall so her footprints would be less noticeable. The passage was short and narrow and ended in a slanted wall. On that wall, two pinpoints of light beckoned her. Aria hurried forward as quietly as possible and examined them. Two boards were crossed over each other and fastened with cords. These cords, strong when first fastened there, were very worn now after many years. Aria slid her Blade of Woe from its sheath and held it against the cords, even with the very edge of the boards. She took a deep breath and slid the sharp blade through the cords.

With a crash, the boards fell to the floor in front of her as the cords released their grip. Simultaneously, a much greater crash resounded from the other side of the wall, along with cries of pain and surprise. Aria left her hiding place, slid the boards back into place, and crept to the staircase. She peeked through the railing again and saw the manservant standing in front of his master, blocking her view. Suddenly, he turned and ran. Aria heard him throw open the front door with a crash, bellowing for help as he ran down the street. She took one last look at the body and turned and fled to the basement.

Just in time. Seconds after the door closed behind her, she heard voices entering the house. She paused to listen.

"...couldn't have been an accident?"

"I tell you, this wasn't an accident!"

"Well, Gromm, do you have any proof of that?"

"Well, no-"

"And how long has that trophy been up there?"

"A long time, but-"

"Then how can you tell me this wasn't an accident?"

There was a pause. "I felt something..." Gromm muttered.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I felt something. A presence."

"You...felt something..." Aria could hear the doubt in the guard's voice.

"Yes. Something evil."

"You're saying that this was not an accident because you felt an evil presence?"

"Exactly."

"But there's no physical proof?"

"Wait, now-"

"I'm sorry, Gromm, but I see absolutely no evidence of foul play. These cords look like they've been here since Bruma was built. I'll send a couple of men to collect the body, but there's nothing more that I can do."

Aria smiled as she heard the footsteps of the guard fade away. She crept through the basement and slipped out the cellar door. Another painful climb up and down the wall got her out of the city and behind the stable. The guard on duty at the gate wasn't there, having probably been sent to collect Baenlin's body. She found her horse and led him several hundred feet away before mounting.

Once the city was out of sight, Aria relaxed and let her mind go back over the night. The job itself actually hadn't been that hard. It had been easier than her first contract. Getting in and out of the city had been the hard part. And the conversation between Gromm and the city guard had actually been humorous. She grinned as she remembered it. Then the image of the body wiped the grin from her face.

What had Baenlin done to deserve to die? The contract didn't say, and Aria couldn't help but wonder about the seemingly harmless elf. He was an old man. What could he have done, or what could he do in the future that could harm someone? Aria could justify Gaston Tussaud. Pirates were notorious for their wicked ways. Tussaud had probably done a hundred different things that could make someone want to kill him. He had tried to kill her as soon as she walked in the door, so he was obviously guilty of something.

But Aria was now guilty of the death of a man who had done absolutely nothing to her. She had the blood of four men on her hands. She drew her horse sharply to a stop.

What was she doing? In a matter of weeks, she had become an assassin, a woman who killed without mercy. Why in the worlds as she doing this?

...Welcome to the family...

...Dark Sister...

...trusted daughters...

...a family that accepts my gift...

Various phrases and moments from the past three months flashed through her mind, giving her the answer she was looking for: family. She needed the love and acceptance of the Dark Brotherhood. She needed to feel like she was part of a family.

Her horse snorted, as though asking why they weren't going anywhere. She leaned over and patted his neck before urging him to a gallop. She was eager to get home.