IX

Arken stood with his foot hiked up on a stump outside his home in Balmora, watching his wife, Merrenda, rehearse a series of basic sword swings on a wooden dummy. The honeymoon in Mournhold lasted two weeks before the newly-weds returned from their trip to start their new lives together. Arken had the Coalition to see to while Merrenda kept the house in order. Interestingly enough, for a woman brought up in a lifestyle where being spoiled and clueless was common, Merrenda knew a great deal about the common housewife. She still burned a meal every now and then, but she and Arken both were still getting used to this whole "married life" thing. At present, Arken was making good on his promise to teach Merrenda how to properly wield a sword.

Merrenda finished her swings and Arken nodded, "That was good. You connected very solidly with each swing. But, there some things you need to work on." He walked up to her and took the wooden practice sword she was using from her to demonstrate, "First, you have to remember this is a longsword, not a claymore. You should only use two hands when you need to put some extra spunk in the swing." He stepped back and demonstrated several swings one-handed, "You see how the blade is more agile one-handed? You need to practice that. Second, your stance leaves you vulnerable. Your left foot is too far forward. An opportunistic opponent would use that by swinging for your leg to make you lower your guard." He demonstrated his own stance, "It's best to keep your feet mostly under your shoulders so your weight's balanced."

Merrenda shrugged as she accepted the practice sword from him, "You make it look so easy sometimes."

Arken smiled and shook his head, "I make it look easy because I've been wielding a blade all my life. You just picked it up a week ago. Just give it plenty of time and practice, and you'll catch on before you know it."

Merrenda turned back to the dummy and resumed her practice swings, "Who taught you how to use a sword?"

Arken snickered as he leaned against the house, "Good old Trial-and-Error was my teacher, love. My first sword was a rusty old iron blade I pulled out of a junk pile. I've picked up some advanced tips and techniques from pros over the years, but I'm mostly self-taught." He stretched as he watched his wife beat the dummy mercilessly, "In fact, you're lucky that you have a teacher at all."

Merrenda set the practice sword down and wrapped her arms around Arken's neck, "And a very good teacher, I think." Arken held his wife close and kissed her for a long moment before they came apart and she rested her head on his chest. It was a happy life that nothing could ruin.

"Am I interrupting?"

Arken's head whirled around at hearing the familiar voice, "Fynix? Good to see you." He looked back at Merrenda briefly, "And actually, yes, you are interrupting."

Fynix shook his head as he took several steps closer, "I'm sorry to intrude, Arken, but I need to talk to you."

Arken's smile vanished when he saw the grave look on his friend's face. He looked back at Merrenda, who only nodded with an unspoken "I understand" in her eyes. They released each other from their arms and Arken walked over to Fynix.

Arken crossed his arms as he leaned against his house, "What's wrong, Nix?"

Fynix took a deep breath before proceeding, "It's my father. He's in trouble."

"What happened?"

"He was in Mar Gaan, delivering a shipment of potions to a local shopkeeper, when a Telvanni constable started getting all hot under the collar at him."

Arken's frown deepened. He could see where this was going, and he didn't like it, "Why? What'd he do?"

"The constable charged him with 'local government sedition', which is the Telvanni's way of saying that he was using magic in ways they don't approve of. He's under house arrest at the local tavern. He managed to get a letter out to me yesterday." Fynix took a breath and looked at Arken with an urgency in his eyes, "Ark, they're going to try to execute him. They're going to trump up false charges against him and hit him with a death penalty. If they succeed, father won't last the week. I need to do something, and I need your help."

Arken stood there silently, absently tapping his fingers on the leather bracer that covered his Morag Tong Mark on his left arm. Any other day, he'd have grabbed his gear and been ready to go before Fynix finished his explanation, but now he had someone else to consider in this. He glanced back to find Merrenda only a few paces back.

He looked at Fynix briefly, "Wait here." He walked back to Merrenda and took her hand as they walked slowly, "How much did you hear?"

Merrenda hung her head, "I heard enough." They stopped walking and she turned to face him with an understanding gaze, "Go. Fynix needs you. I wish I could go with you, but I wouldn't be much good in a fight." She touched Arken's cheek, "I understand, love."

Arken nodded slowly before gently pulling her into a hug, "I may be gone for a while. If you need anything, Ra'Jharra's only a few houses down the road. You know he'd be more than happy to help."

Merrenda rested her head on her husband's shoulder, "Be careful, beloved."

"I will." He pulled her back to look into her eyes, "I love you."

"I love you, too." They kissed briefly before turning and heading for the front door.

Arken put a hand on Fynix's shoulder on the way by, "Give me a minute to gear up and we'll be on our way."

Fynix nodded, "Thank you, but please be quick. I want to get to Mar Gaan as soon as possible."

Merrenda helped Arken gear up and saw him off as the two friends took the silt strider on the north routes. They switched striders several times before having to take the rest of the journey on foot. After traveling through the rest of the day and all the night, the pair finally came upon the little town of Mar Gaan. Mar Gaan was a small settlement in western Vardenfell, not very active and not very important, a good place to keep a low profile. Arken and Fynix walked into town to find a usual bustle of small town life. There wasn't much going on today, which was odd for a town that just had a man arrested. In any other small town, the locals would be buzzing around to spread the gossip as fast as possible. These people all seemed most interested in minding their own business.

The pair started toward one of the local shops when Arken leaned over to Fynix, "I think I should do the talking. And keep your hood up. Someone might recognize you."

Fynix pulled his hood up as they came to a small trader booth, "Good idea. I'll be waiting here." Arken left his gear with Fynix as he stepped over to the stall and looked around, finding it rather devoid of customers. Most of the items on display were either second rate or damaged. Not much to work with here.

He leaned on the counter and got the vendor's attention, "Excuse me? Do you know where I can find Deryk Nylim? He's a mage, alchemist by trade."

The shopkeeper, an Imperial, leaned back and shook his head, "Ooh, bad mojo to be talkin' 'bout an arrested mage, mate. 'Specially with that Telvanni constable still struttin' 'round town."

Arken reached into his pocket and pulled something out, "Maybe I can turn your mojo around." He opened his hand to reveal about a dozen gold coins.

The shopkeeper's eyes widened when he saw the money and he looked up and down the road twice before leaning forward and dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Well, you didn't 'ear it from me, but that mage they arrested was moved late yesterday to the local guard tower. He was just under house arrest until they caught him sendin' letters to someone."

Arken winced. The situation wasn't getting any better and Fynix wasn't going to be happy to hear it.

He reached into his pocket and dropped a few more drakes on the pile in his hand, "Where's the tower?"

"Less then an hour's walk east of town."

Arken nodded as he dropped the coins on the counter, "Thanks. You've been a big help."

The vendor shook his head as he gathered the coins, "No, you've been a big help, mate. You've no idea how much I needed this. That Telvanni's been suckin' this town dry; says we owe 'em land taxes."

Arken furrowed his brow, "I thought Mar Gaan was a free settlement."

The shopkeeper scoffed loudly, "Well, tell that to that power-hungry old scroat." Arken frowned as he turned and walked away from the stall. He hefted his pack of gear onto his shoulder as he and Fynix started toward the local inn.

Fynix looked around before leaning closer to Arken, "Find out anything?"

Arken rolled his eyes, "Yeah, and none of it was good, either. Your father's been moved to the local guard tower because they caught him sending messages to you."

"Blast. We need to get him out of there."

Arken nodded, "I agree, but there's more here than meets the eye. It seems the Telvanni have been exacting some kind of land taxes from the townsfolk."

Fynix frowned, "But Mar Gaan is on free land. None of the great houses have holdings this far north, except maybe Hlaalu and Redoran."

"I know, which means only one of two things. Either the Telvanni are trying to expand into Mar Gaan, or…"

"…Or there's a corrupt Telvanni constable here that needs to be put in his place." Fynix huffed, "I had a feeling there was something fishy behind all this."

Arken pointed at the inn ahead of them, "We'll settle in first, then we'll gear up and go check out that tower. It's about two miles east of town. And while we're here, we should keep an ear to the ground for who's in charge of the Telvanni operation here." Arken and Fynix situated themselves in a room at the local inn before gearing up with their armor and weapons to go investigate the tower. They walked east for about forty minutes before they crested a small ridge to find the structure they were looking for. As soon as Arken laid eyes on it, he knew from experience that this was going to be no easy task. The tower was well guarded on all sides along with rooftop archers to boot.

Fynix looked at the tower for a moment before looking at Arken, "That's it?"

Arken nodded, continuing to analyze the tower's defenses, "That's it. It's sealed up tighter than a mudcrab's buttocks. They've got at least two guards at every door, rooftop archers, and probably one or two guards on every level inside. And Dagoth knows how many guys are guarding the prison beneath. This isn't going to be easy."

Fynix looked at the tower, "It looks like it's time to put that thief to good use, Arken. Certainly you can think of some way to get in there."

Arken nodded tersely, "I didn't get rich off of other people's goods by not being good at what I do, Fynix. I've already conjured up four different ideas to get into that tower."

Fynix looked at him and shrugged, "Well, if that's it, then why don't we get in there tonight and get father out."

Arken looked at Fynix and shook his head, "Because all four of those plans end with us dying horrible, agonizing deaths. I don't know about you, but I'll pass on that"

Fynix scoffed as he looked at the tower again, "Well, I hope you've got more ideas where those came from, otherwise we're not getting in there."

Arken shook his head as he looked at the tower, studying its strengths and weaknesses, "I don't need a lot of ideas. I just need one that will work." He thought for a moment before he looked at Fynix, "You're an alchemist, right? You know of any potions that are flammable?"

Fynix made a face and shrugged, "Flammable? I don't know. Just about anything could be flammable if you mix it with the right things. Why?"

Arken pointed at the tower, "Because I think we're going to give the Telvanni guards a little show tonight." He explained his plan in detail. It was sound, if not risky and a little strange. The two Dunmer returned to the town to make preparations for their little raid. Fynix started brewing potions up with some alchemy apparatus he brought with him while Arken took to the streets to get the skinny on this whole "tax" thing. After greasing a few palms, he learned that a Telvanni constable had come to the area with a contingent of soldiers a little less than a year ago and was becoming increasingly present ever since. Within the last month, he'd started taking heavy taxes from the people, claiming "advancement of Telvanni interests in the area". One of the townsfolk had done a little digging into why this constable was here and found that there was no order from the Telvanni house council. Unfortunately, he "mysteriously disappeared" shortly after discovering this, and no one dared investigate any further for fear of "vanishing" themselves.

Arken clenched his right hand into a fist as he made his way back to the inn. Everyone always branded him an outlaw for breaking the laws of the land, but at least he had the spine to not hide behind the laws he was breaking. He got back to the room and laid out on his wolf skin bedroll to catch a few hours of sleep before the raid, making a note in his own mind to search the tower for evidence to bring this crooked constable down. As he started to drift off, his mind wandered to his beautiful wife, Merrenda, wishing he could be back in Balmora with her, but knowing that Fynix needed him here. He grinned at the thought of Merrenda's beautiful smile and rolled over to get some rest. Tonight would be…interesting.

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Arken stayed crouched in the shadows of several bushes on the low ridge near the tower. He held his bow in a loose grip, staying calm for the moment to move. Fynix was in a small grotto several hundred yards away, preparing their diversion. Arken watched the guards on and around the tower while he waited. They were either devoted or very well paid, because they kept an untiring vigil on the area around the tower.

The plan commenced when Arken heard a series of shrill whines a distance away. The guards around the tower all started to look around when they heard the noises, also. They found out what the noises were when a number of small, flaming objects sailed over the trees and careened into places on or around the tower, where they exploded into gouts of flame. The soldiers all started to take cover around the tower and under their shields as they were showered by little exploding fireballs. Arken nodded to himself, acknowledging that the first phase of the plan was beginning. This volley would continue for the next several minutes to simulate an attack on the tower, giving them their chance to infiltrate.

Fynix came running through the darkness, sliding on the dirt into a crouch next to Arken as he looked toward the tower, "The projectiles are going off. Are they taking the bait?" As if on cue, the guard captain started rallying his men and pointing toward where the fireballs were coming from. He and about a dozen of his men all left their posts and started toward where the volley originated.

Arken smiled as he watched them go, "Like flies to sugar." He pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it on the bow string, "My turn. Stay here. I'll signal for you when I'm done." He turned and disappeared into the shadows of the night. Fynix watched apprehensively for a minute, wondering when Arken would make his move. Even though he was expecting it, Fynix was startled to see an arrow fly out of a nearby tree and strike one of the roof archers through the neck. Before the other archer could respond, another arrow flew out of the tree and hit him squarely above the sternum. Fynix saw Arken drop out of the tree and wave him over.

They went to a back door and Arken produced a lockpick get them in. Once he popped the tumblers, he pushed the doors open and they both entered the tower. Arken led the way as they moved cautiously through the torch lit hallways, still aware of guards in the tower. Fynix's life sensing spell could see through walls and around corners to warn them if anyone was in their path. They advanced down the halls and took stairs and ramps down to the lower levels wherever they found them.

They came to an intersection when Fynix tapped Arken's shoulder to get his attention and pointed to the right. Arken nodded and crept forward, peering around the corner to see what Fynix was referring to. There was a guard standing along the right wall of the hallway, holding a spear and shield. Arken quietly drew a dagger from his boot as he silently crept into the hall, staying very low and against the wall to stay out of the guard's peripheral vision. Arken slinked to within a foot of the soldier before he sprung. He stood and staked his dagger cleanly in the base of the guard's neck above his cuirass, killing him instantly. Arken sheathed the dagger and looked around, pointing out some stairs that led downward and waving Fynix over to follow him.

After a long time of moving downward and searching the basement of the tower, the Dunmer pair finally came to what looked like a detention area. They came down a set of stairs into a short and well lit hallway lined with iron bar cells along either side. Fynix took the lead and started looking in each cell down the line. He finally found an older Dunmer in the last cell, lying on the bed with one arm over his face.

Fynix set his staff against the wall and rattled the cell door, "Father, there you are."

Deryk Nylim's head came up at hearing his son's voice and he turned to look, "Fynix! By the gods, what are you doing here? I told you not to get involved." Deryk Nylim had a full head of charcoal hair like his son, but added to his age with streaks of grey and a mustache and goatee of the same shade.

Fynix shook his head, "Well, father, it was either disobey you or never see you again. I chose the former."

Deryk shook his head, "Remind me to beat some sense into that thick head of yours after you get me out of here. The key is over on that table."

Arken grabbed the key from the table and tossed it to Fynix, who promptly used it to open the cell. Deryk pushed the door open and immediately pulled his son into an embrace. He stepped back from him and patted him on his armored shoulder.

Deryk smiled at Fynix, "I need to tell your mother to slap me any time I start talking about you being stubborn and thickheaded."

Fynix chuckled, "So how many sick people did you help before the Telvanni constable caught you?"

Deryk's smile vanished and he shook his head, "None. That wasn't what I meant when I said they charged me with sedition." He picked up his foot and reached up his pant leg to pull out a bundle of rolled up scrolls, "They arrested me because I found this."

Fynix took the scrolls and started to unroll them, "What is it?"

"Finance records; both the false ones and the real ones. It looks like this constable has been skimming off the Telvanni vaults for a couple of years now."

Fynix's eyes widened when he saw the numbers, "By the Nine. The house council is going to bury him alive when they see this."

Arken chuckled, "Shiny. I'll get the shovels."

Deryk noticed Arken and looked him over, "Who's this? You hired a mercenary to help you get in here, Fynix? So you're disobeying me and blowing away your money. I thought I raised you better."

Fynix chuckled and shook his head, "No, father. This is my friend, Arken Dralkes. Arken, this is my father, Deryk Nylim."

Deryk extended his hand, "The pleasure is mine, Master Dralkes. My son speaks very highly of you."

Arken shook his hand and nodded, "You've raised quite a guy here, Master Nylim."

Everyone was brought back to the situation at hand when an arrow flew from the other end of the hallway and struck the stone wall. A guard with a bow stood in the doorway, readying another arrow. As if in a rehearsed motion, Fynix dropped to one knee as he turned around while his father stood over him and both extended one hand to unleash a lightning spell. Both spell bolts hit the guard squarely in the chest, sending him flying back and smashing into a wooden cabinet at the end of the hall.

Arken squeezed between father and son, "Nix, help your father get his things from the evidence chest. I'll cover the door." Arken took up position to watch the stairs while Fynix helped his father get outfitted for the escape. The diversion had given out by now and that troupe of guards would be on their way back to the tower, if they weren't already here by now. Arken looked back to check on progress. They were almost ready.

Arken's head came around when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He drew his sword and steeled himself with a little bit of anticipation. This would be his blade's first taste of blood. A single guard came down the stairs with sword drawn and immediately went on the attack as soon as he saw Arken. The young Dunmer raised his weapon to block the strike. The guard's sword struck the ebony weapon and recoiled off hard, with Arken feeling little more than a bump through his handle. He took advantage of his opponent's pause to strike, building up some momentum by twirling the sword around in his hand once as he reared back and swung. The sword struck with such piercing force that it split through the lower half of the guard's bonemold armor on the way in to his flesh. The guard doubled over and fell down the stairs to the floor. Arken looked wide-eyed at the dead guard and then at his blade. This weapon was good!

Arken smiled as he looked at his sword, "Ra'Jharra, I could kiss you." He was torn from his reverie by Fynix and his father appearing at the bottom of the stairs, and the trio started up as fast as they could. The garrison would be entering the tower about now, and they had to move fast to avoid being trapped in the lower levels. Arken took the lead as they hurried through the dark stone hallways, dealing with what resistance they encountered along the way. With each guard he took down, Arken liked his new sword more and more. Ra'Jharra had very clearly designed it as a real warrior's weapon.

The three came to the main level and rounded a corner in line with a door to the outside when Arken almost skidded to a halt, holding his arms out to halt the two men behind him. The door was already open and there were dozens of guards pouring into the tower.

Fynix looked at Arken over his shoulder, "I think we can take them."

One of the guards spotted them and pointed them out to the others, who all started charging toward them with weapons drawn.

Arken hurriedly turned around, "Not today, we can't. Let's move!" The trio turned around and started heading up the tower. They rushed through each level, mounting stairs wherever they saw them. Arken kicked his idea machine into overdrive to think of a way out of this one. They could stay away from the guards for now, but it was only a matter of time before they ran out of tower to climb.

That moment came sooner than anyone was prepared for when Fynix pushed the next door open and walked out into the open air of the tower's top level. Arken started looking around, searching for some rope or sheets, anything they could descend the tower with, but he was coming up dry.

Fynix looked around before he looked at Arken, "I think we've run out of options, Arken."

"We're not dead yet, Fynix." Arken started looking down the sides of the tower to see if there were any ropes or climbing bricks.

"We've got to get down from here, but the only path is crawling with angry Telvanni soldiers." Fynix looked at his father, "Do you know any levitation or feather spells that might work, father?"

Master Nylim's eyes widened and he shrugged, "Don't look at me. You're the Alteration expert, son."

Arken looked down one side of the tower and noticed several trees that were close to the tower and almost as tall. It was the same bramble of trees he shot the archers from. There were no limbs this high up that were strong enough to grab, but it might work to break a fall.

Arken waved Fynix over, "How much do you trust me?"

Fynix shrugged as he walked over and looked down, "I trust you enough, I suppose."

Arken nodded, "Good. Then jump."

The Dunmer mage looked at him horrified, "Jump? Are you out of your…"

"No time. Just jump." Arken grabbed the bottom of Fynix's Orcish cuirass and levered him over the edge. The poor battlemage fell into the trees, flailing and screaming as he dropped. Arken watched him fall into the grove, listening for a loud thud that never came.

He waved Deryk over, "Your next." With a resigned shrug, Master Nylim stepped up onto the edge and plummeted into the trees below. Arken turned around at hearing the door break open and several archers poured onto the roof with bows ready. He turned and hopped over the edge as several arrows sailed through the air where he'd just been standing.

The freefall before hitting the trees was the agonizing part, because Arken knew what was waiting for him. He knew he was not going to tumble down through a forest canopy without getting cut to ribbons by every sharp little branch and twig, and he could only hope that Fynix and Deryk hadn't already broken all of the stronger branches that would slow his fall. Arken gritted his teeth and braced as he hit the first branches.

Fate played the hand in his favor once again as his fall slowed down to a less lethal pace. Unfortunately, it meant hitting every branch on the way down. Arken was tossed, turned, thrown, swatted, and smashed every foot of the way. The only reason he didn't break a bone was likely his glass armor. He finally emerged at the bottom of the canopy and landed face down in the dirt with a hard thud. He picked himself up as best he could, considering what he'd just been through. Both Fynix and his father had survived their own respective descents and were picking themselves up off the ground. Arken rolled off his stomach and levered himself up into a sitting position.

Arken shook his head to clear it and started picking leaves out of his hair, "Remind me. Whose idea was that again?"

Fynix sat up to his knees and checked himself over, "Funny. He looked a lot like you."

Arken nodded dryly, "Yup, that's what I thought."

Master Nylim braced himself on his staff as he stood up, "At least we survived it. But it won't take long for the guards to come down and look for us."

Fynix stood and brushed himself off, "Father's right. We need to make tracks, and fast."

Arken nodded sourly, "Yeah. Just give me a minute to recover from my stupid idea." He bent his knees once to make sure they still worked before standing and brushing himself off, "We'll head south until we hit Ald'Ruhn. I've got connections there that can help us disappear." The trio started out for Ald'Ruhn, traveling through the rest of the night and half of the next day until they came to the small desert town. When they arrived, Arken used his status with the Redoran to ask for protection. Given the nature of Master Nylim's wrongful imprisonment, the Redoran were more than willing to harbor them for a day while everything cooled off. While waiting, Arken sent the corrupt constable's financial records to the Telvanni house council, just to be certain that they'd bury him for what he'd done.

Nearly a week after leaving Balmora, Arken came home to a loving wife and a hot meal. It was good to be home, but Arken had learned yet another lesson. He had learned that his skills, even a thief's skills, could be put to good use. Skills and abilities were amoral, having no sense of right and wrong of their own. It was how those skills were used that determined whether they were good or evil. Even though he was a thief, Arken was still a good man because he knew how to put a thief's skills to good use. And he learned that that's what counted in the end.