Chapter 5 – A Different Path
"I think that was all of them. Let me take a look around" Baurus gasped out, kicking the warrior off his blade. Sometime during their battle the shield had been handed to the younger Redguard, despite Glenroy's skill at using it to hold off waves of attackers. Baurus handled the shield with more confidence that his counterpart, who was busy pacing around hunting for more assassins. The Blades had waded through the bodies of the assassins sent to kill their Emperor. Their muscles screamed for a rest, their eyes were blurred from the sweat dripping down from their brow. Shining silver blades were covered in red, as was their clean armor. The Emperor's robes were also covered in blood, and his blade was crimson in his hands. They had taken many lives this day and would take many more before the glorious sunset.
"Have you seen the Prisoner?" Emperor Uriel asked. His voice was tired yet hopeful, as if seeing Ragnar would bring his spirits up and give him the courage to continue along the path that was riddled with death.
"Do you think he followed us? How could he?" Baurus asked.
"I know he did" Uriel said in a confident tone of voice, looking towards the shadows of the level above. The Emperor was not one to hope without cause and he was not one to be afraid of what fate held in store for him. He had seen things no mortal should have seen. He had seen to the limits of a Mortals gaze and he had woken. Every moment he drew breath was a gift. A gift the divines gave him to serve Tamriel and to ensure its protection when he was gone, passed into the next life.
"Sire, we have to go now" Glenroy spoke up. His tone was softened and considerate yet it was also firm. That of a Commander on a mission. A suicide mission. Renault's burden had fallen to him, and not even the Dremora that lived beyond the fires of Oblivion were going to stop him. Nothing was going to prevent him saving his Emperor, protecting Tamriel's ruler. He set his jaw, lowered his brow and began to move. If need be he would follow his Captain's lead and would sacrifice his life, but he couldn't think and act as if he was already dead. If he showed weakness then Baurus might follow. He could not be defeated, no matter how grim the situation looked.
"Not yet. Let me rest a while longer" The Emperor replied, instantly sounding his age. He sounded old and worn. Tired. There was acceptance in his voice as well, as if he knew he was going to his death. Ragnar realised the Emperor was waiting for him, and he felt his heart beat a little faster. He didn't know why, but he felt incredibly proud to be valued by the Emperor. He leapt down from the ledge, landing a safe distance away from the Blades. They both turned on him, weapons drawn and eyes flaming with righteous fury. He knew how he looked; he knew the blood staining his body made him look wild along with his bloodshot eyes. He also knew the Blades needed him, just as he needed their guidance. He held his hands up in a mock surrender, keeping Renault's blade in his grip the entire time. Glenroy's eyes widened as he realised that Ragnar has his late Captain's blade. Then the Redguard's eyes narrowed in absolute fury.
"Damnit, it's that prisoner again! Kill him, he might be working with the Assassins" The Redguard took several strides forwards, pointing his weapon at Ragnar. The larger Nord simply stared at the man, taking several strides forwards with his sword at the ready.
"No. He is not one of them. He can help us. He must help us" Uriel said in a steady tone, stepping forwards and grabbing the Redguard's wrist for a second. The Emperor betrayed the desperation to keep Ragnar alive in that subtle, unnecessary gesture, but at the time nobody thought anything about it. Ragnar straightened slightly, rolling his shoulders as he held the blade. He quickly lowered the point as the Emperor approached him.
"They cannot understand why I trust you. They've not seen what I've seen. How can I explain? Listen. You know the Nine? How they guide our fates with an invisible hand? I've served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks, each a fire, and every one a sign. I know these stars well. The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."
"Can you see my fate?" Ragnar asked softly, unsure what bid him to ask such a question. The Emperor was an inspirational man, and being in his presence was something Ragnar was not used to and had not ever expected in his wildest dreams. The Emperor smiled, his kindness and wisdom shining through as he shook his head.
"My dreams grant me no opinions of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death. But in your face, I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and with the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied No trophies of my triumphs precede me. But I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour. In this I am blessed to see the hour of my death... To face my apportioned fate, then fall. Now, I go to my grave. A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me yet for a while, then we must part."
…
Ragnar stood with the Emperor, blade drawn as he waited for some of the Assassins to get past the Blades fighting their hearts out near the entrance. They had walked right into a trap, which in turn had forced them to look down a dead end. Once inside the dead end the Assassins had jumped down behind them, attacking quickly and without mercy. Baurus and Glenroy were working as a team, one striking as the other blocked, but steadily they were surrounded. An assassin lunged for Glenroy's back, forcing Baurus to react on instinct. The Younger Redguard stepped in and threw the blade aside with his shield, then slashed upwards with his blade. The assassin leaned backwards, avoiding the blow by mere millimeters. Baurus followed up with a thrust of the sword, and a flick of his wrist. He quickly got his blade into one of the assassin's throats, disarming another with another flick of the wrist.
Four assassins rushed past the Blades fir Ragnar, who stepped forwards quickly. He raised his blade, intent on defending the Emperor. The first assassin struck with a mace trying to break Ragnar's arm. The large Nord jumped backwards, swinging his blade with all his might. The Assassin leapt back, barely avoiding a deadly wound. Ragnar's blade tore through the flesh of his arm between the armor, leaving him bleeding. The other assassins tried to get in, but they were bottle necked in the fine corridor. Ragnar used his environment to his advantage, slashing as two assassins stood beside one another. A scream of agony filled the air as Ragnar swung upwards, bringing the blade between the Assassin's legs. The said assassin dropped like a stone to his knees, holding his groin. Ragnar wasted no time, he swung and decapitated the enemy. The head went rolling along the ground, tripping the first assassin as he lunged. One on the ground Ragnar fell to his knee with a vicious cry, driving his blade through the assassin's throat. He ignored the sounds as the assassin died, instead leaping over the bodies to bring his blade down on a third assassin. The forth slashed with a dagger, catching Ragnar across the arm. He yelled in alarm, dropping his blade as he reached to grab his arm. He was not used to being caught by an enemy's blade, and by the gods, it hurt like Oblivion. He leapt at the assassin, tackling the man to the ground. He quickly landed on top and grabbed the man's arm, bending it an awkward angle before he raised his fist. He brought it down again, and again, and again. He struck the man's arm with a large fist until the bones in the man's broke. The man screamed loudly as Ragnar pulled the broken arm, twisting the blade on the assassin. With one final punch he forced the man to stab himself with his conjured dagger.
"I can go no further. You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. Even the might of the Blades cannot stand against the Power that rises to destroy us. The Prince of Destruction awakes, born anew in blood and fire. These cutthroats are but his mortal pawns. You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings! Take the Amulet. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son. Find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion." The Emperor said in a sad yet wise tone of voice. Ragnar stared for a moment before he got up, noticing the amulet in the Emperor's hand. He reached out, taking the old man's hand in his own in a strong handshake of respect.
"I won't forget you, Emperor Uriel" he said sincerely.
"Stand true, my friend. May your heart be your guide and the gods grant you strength. Remember me, and remember my words. This burden is now yours. You hold our future in your hands" The Emperor said, taking a few strides backwards. Ragnar tried to follow but magic held him still, as if he was frozen in the coldest ice of Skyrim. His muscles refused to move an inch, and he knew then and there fate itself had spoken. One of the arches revealed another secret passage and a warrior walked through holding a mace. He struck the Emperor once up the back of the head. The Emperor's face never revealed his pain. His kind eyes were simply calm and at peace. It frightened Ragnar. He knew right then at that moment that he would never be able to erase the Emperor from his memory, or his nightmares.
Everything became a blur as he was freed, but he was aware of a blade in his hands and he was aware of the blood of assassins flowing freely down his arms, mixing with his own. He was aware of retrieving two blades, listening to Baurus mourn his comrades.
"By the way, thanks for recovering my Comrades swords. I'll see they are given a place of honor in the hall of the Blades" Baurus announced, taking the Blade from the ground where Ragnar had left it.
"I… uh, screw it. Keep the damn blade then. I'll find other weapons" he growled, storming off into the Sewers before a stunned Baurus could even reply.
…..
He blink as the sunlight shone in his eyes, forcing him to raise his arm to defend against the assault. It turned out that finding a weapon and working his way through the sewers had been more challenging than Baurus had suggested. He had stopped to sleep at one point, cooking a rat before he put the fire out and moved right away. He was lucky enough to have been able to avoid most of the Goblins, although he still stunk. The light was so bright he had to blink again as he removed his hand from over his eyes, narrowed eyes as he tried to force them to stay open. He was near water, with bright, beautiful colours of the landscape. He stumbled out, looking around for the right way to go to get on the path to Jauffre. He was completely lost, covered in mud and shit alike from the sewers and he didn't smell much better than he looked. He groaned as he reached up to his hair, pulling a clump of what he hoped was mud out. He groaned again as he shook his hand, sending the mud flying away.
"You look like you could use a hand… and a bath" a cheerful female voice reached his ears. He turned to growl at the woman, only to pause when he saw her.
She was no normal woman, he could tell that instantly. She was a lithe young Nord, neither tall nor short dressed in fine leather armor that highlighted her appearance. The dagger strapped to her thigh made him want to laugh; it was a toothpick just like its mistress. He had no doubt he could snap them both in half without putting much effort into it, yet he didn't.
Her skin was soft, barely sun kissed with a slight golden shine. Her brow was soft and arched with fine eyebrows and not a single line marring it. Her eyes were captivating, a soft, dark hazel colour that he knew he could drown in if he wasn't careful. Her nose was neither small nor large, slightly pointed yet holding a certain cuteness to it. Her lips were perfectly shaped, highlighted with a soft red lipstick. Her cheekbones were high and subtle, falling in a soft slope to her slightly pointed chin. Her hair however caught his attention. It was a silvery blonde, as if white and golden had mixed to make white gold. It didn't look young yet it didn't look old. He had never seen hair like that in his life. The woman wasn't a classic beauty, yet she was somehow very attractive.
"Thanks for stating the obvious" he grunted sourly. His mood was not good, and this woman's cheerfulness was already irksome to him. Her face didn't change from a smartass smirk, eyes shining in amusement. She was secretly impressed by his dark hair and midnight blue eyes, but she wasn't about to reveal that just yet.
"You should be nice to me" she said, leaning back onto the crate. She sat on weatherworn wood, yet she didn't fall through as Ragnar knew he would. He didn't pay attention to her packs, nor to the piece of paper she was holding up calmly.
"Why? You want to fuck me, so I need to nurse your little womanly feelings?" he asked in amusement.
"Because I have a royal pardon for you, and your gear that was taken when you were arrested. I think I put on another stone of muscle lugging that around" the woman shrugged, announcing the fact as if it were something simple. Ragnar did a double take, his eyes instantly zooming onto her chest. She had breasts, breasts that were straining against the tight leather. They were not large and full like women he enjoyed, but they were most certainly there. His eyes then zeroed in on the apex of her thighs. There was no bulge, there was no cock hidden beneath the leather. She was most certainly a she… but how was that possible? How could a woman have achieved so much? Had she slept with the entire city? Had her husband, father or brother done it for her and she was taking the credit? Or… was she simply an incredible woman? An overpowering urge came over him. He wanted to know about her, know how in the realms Oblivion she had done everything she claimed to have done. Proof was in her hands, but he knew women were deceptive creatures. He would have to tread cautiously.
"What's your name, girl?" he asked, treating her as a child. She was obviously young, no older than her early twenties although she appeared to be more in her late teens. For a moment she pouted, pushing her lips out and hardening her expression. Ragnar almost laughed at her expression. She clearly did not like being called a child. It was interesting to see the expression on her face, it made her look even younger yet he could tell she was a full grown woman. She had a certain wisdom about her that shook him to the core. He could also smell a whore when he saw one. Perhaps she wasn't as bad as that, but she most certainly wasn't innocent.
"I'll have you know I am not a child. I'm probably older than you" she said in a clear, crisp tone of voice.
"And by the way, just for being a dick you can wash your own back" she added with a smirk. Ragnar rolled his eyes. This little woman was playing with him, trying to twist his mind and words against him. He had barely been with her a few minutes and she was already proving she was trying to play his emotions, thoughts and words. She could not be trusted.
"Just tell me your name, woman!" he growled, taking a threatening step forwards. She crossed her arms over her chest, her smile softening for a moment before she spoke.
"Eira. Eira Stronach"
AN/ So I will be posting a little less regularly now, as I have slowed down on the writing madness. I also have a lots of writing projects as well as School to contend with. I am wondering whether to post Champion or not, so any votes are welcomed.