Chapter 3: Last Night Under the Stars

Dawn was fast approaching and Roylat knew he must pack lightly for speed was essential on this trip. He dawned his imperial dragon armor, the hard plating was black as night but the trim and design of the imperial sigil on the breastplate and all the other strong pieces of plate armor were as gold as the sun. This was made from the same materials as the armor that the Champion of Cyrodiil wore after he aided Martin Septim in halting the Oblivion Crisis many years ago. However, this was a very visible sign of his authority so he grabbed a grey hooded cloak from the rack across the room and put it on to disguise his armor.

His mind was racing so he grabbed his blade made of blinding silver and his shield of tough ebony and was off to meet Daphne at the stables. The night was quiet, the drunks had all stumbled home by now and the only noise to be heard was that of the cricket's chirping.

Roylat was to the stone walkway outside of the walls of Solitude when he saw a fur covered shadow walking away from Daphne. He knew it was Tullius, and he knew exactly what he had told her. The expression on her face when he got closer only confirmed his suspicions. She was trying to conceal the terrible truth that she had learned but he knew, he always knew.

"What did the General want?"

"Nothing, he was just saying goodbye. He has watched over me for a long time." the lie tasted sour coming out of her mouth. She had always been an honest and just person but she dared not confront him about his violent past.

The awkward silence was broken by the sound of a mother wolf howling with her cubs off on some mountain somewhere. They saddled their horses and journeyed into the frigid night.

*******
Dawn turned to midday and midday turned to dusk, day turned to night. Roylat had entertained himself with asking Daphne questions about her life in Elsweyr and even asked her to teach him how to speak some of their language and Daphne was delighted to talk with him about it, she grew fond of him over their few days of traveling together, but the story of his lost love still lingered in the back of her mind. That lingering thought was what kept her from being overwhelmed by her feelings. But the romantic in her saw the deep passion that runs through him, deep enough that he could be driven mad by the loss of a dear one.

The last night before they reached Whiterun, they made camp on the shore of a serene river. With the elk meat roasting they sat and talked about many things, politics, weapons, battle stories, lore they heard as children, and the home land. The night began to cool and Daphne shivered.

"Here, take this", Royat removed the thick fur blanket that he had been wearing and draped it over her shoulders, it was heavy, warm and smelled of smoke but Daphne found it pleasant and decided curl up in the furs and lay next to Roylat; just to watched the stars. Roylat's eyes were directed to a more earthly object.
The furs did not fully cover Daphne's body, leaving her legs slightly exposed. He rolled her over and stared into her crystal blue eyes. They reflected the campfires flickering light perfectly. Finally Roylat couldn't resist the temptation, his rough hand moved up her soft, tanned thigh and his lips were suddenly against hers. It was like a force of nature pulling them together.

*******
Her body was warm against his, their passion lasted long into the night and they both slept soundly. The chirping of the birds was loud but the subtle crack of a twig, shattered Roylat's blissful sleep. A massive blade crashed through the tent with the force of a lightning bolt, giving Roylat only a fraction of a second to push Daphne out of the way and roll out of the tent. When Roylat gained his footing, he was finally able to size up his opponent.

Much to his surprise the assailant was a five foot tall bosmer, wearing the shrouded armor of the brotherhood that had sent him. The bosmer ran at him hacking and slashing without any real technique. His blade was a crude iron greatsword; however the strength he wielded it with was impressive for someone of his height. The tiny black haired mer was hell bent on landing a blow so Roylat allowed him to draw near. He used his massive chunk of iron to swipe at the imperials feet but Roylat jumped nimbly over the blade and land a kick in the square of the mer's face. He recoiled back and grabbed his noise in agony, the blood rushed from his bent, broken noise. The imperial spotted his sword in the wreckage and made a dive for it. The slide to his sword was cold and rough but he managed to barely get the blade out of its sheath before he deflected the iron greatsword to his side and roll away from the mer. The intruder snarled at the Commander and dashed at him with great speed, he swung the iron at Roylat's shoulder but Roylat gripped the hilt of his silver blade with both hands and braced himself. The power of the attack made the young imperial stagger back but he remained relatively unharmed. Roylat's counter attack came swiftly and relentlessly. Years of intense training made this reaction instant, he was the Hand of the Emperor and the best swordsman in all of Tamerial, no one could beat him. His singing silver blade entered the back of the bosmer's neck without any resistance. The mer's blood stained the snow red where he had fallen.

Roylats attention snapped to Daphne who had readied her bow and was waiting for the right moment to release. Without the need for her arrow any longer she slowly eased the tension off of the bow string and put the bow and arrow back into its quiver. Both companions were half naked and when the heat of battle subsided they thought it be wise to put their armor back on.

Upon seeing the body up close, a candle lit in the young girls head, "I know that armor. It's that of a Dark Brotherhood assassin." Daphne had only read about them in the papers and books around Solitude, of course the fact they are only read about and never seen is what makes them so deadly.

"I heard rumors that there might be a sanctuary active up here in Skyrim but never gave it much thought. We eliminated the Brotherhoods influence in Cyrodiil a long time ago." Roylat moved to inspect the body. He found a poison vile, a health potion that the would be assassin never had the chance to use, and a letter that bore the Black Hand symbol. He unfolded it and read off the order that asked for their lives:

The Emperor's Hand is in Skyrim and he is asking questions. We cannot have him discover us when we are so weak. This will be your test to enter our Brotherhood, he will be heading towards Whiterun. Track him down and kill him before he reaches his destination. When you finish your contract we will welcome you home at the Dawnstar sanctuary. When you see a dark door hidden in the rocks, facing the sea, it will ask you a question respond "Silence, my brother" and you will become a full member of our family. Do not fail us; do not fail the Night Mother.

-The Listener

Daphne was shocked and scared. Roylat only had one thought "Can you get me to this place, Daphne?"

The voice of a child echoed through the halls of the sanctuary, "Oh Listener, I have news for you!"

The hooded statue lifted from the chair and walked towards the youthful figure and greeted the ancient vampire.

With a frown on her face Babette spoke, "I told you that recruit would fail, he lacked all form and was not very skilled at all. I wonder why our wise Listener chose him for the task to hunt down this great foe."

In a voice cold as steel and dark as the void the Listener leaned in and whispered, "I didn't expect him to survive; I just wanted him to give the Knight a little hint. He will be coming and I will be waiting…"

As the Listener rose and disappeared into the shadows of the sanctuary a small childish grin started to appear on Babette's face.

End Chapter 3

Chapter 4: An End For One, A Beginning For All.