A/N: Thanks to those of you who reviewed since the last chapter! Ozymandeos: yup, my version of Tribunal will be pretty dark (not that the original game wasn't already pretty dark). There are more twists to go before the end but ones, I believe, that can be read from in game if you interpret events in a certain way. Saying no more for now! CampsMcCamper: Your reviews always make me smile. Holy bacon indeed! I'm really glad you're enjoying this! I can't promise an epic cliffhanger all the time, but hopefully you will continue to enjoy!
Chapter 5: Long Live the King
Tienius Delitian was patrolling the courtyard, but he led Llovesi and Julan back into a secluded part of the guards' quarters when they arrived.
"Thank you for bringing me this copy of 'The Common Tongue'," he said, when he'd finished reading the paper. "I believe this is indeed the source of the rumours. I see no source or evidence for its speculation–just vague falsehoods. Thank you. Well done. I'll mention your loyal services and exceptional qualities to King Helseth. And I think we might find you further employment. For example, we lack sources of information in Almalexia's Temple. Could you help me find a Temple informant?"
"Why does Helseth care about these rumours?" Llovesi asked bluntly.
Delitian stared her down again. "All in good time, Llovesi. Now, will you do this?"
Llovesi wanted scream at him. Instead, she said: "you want me to go and recruit another spy, is that it? I thought that was mine and Julan's job?"
"Not as such. We just need information from a source inside Almalexia's Temple. There are rumours of discontent in the Temple. Go to Almalexia's Temple. Look for someone discontented. Listen sympathetically. And find out whether the Temple is willing to accept King Helseth–or whether the Temple plans to act against him."
"And does King Helseth intend to act against the Temple?"
Delitian's face was completely impassive. It was almost impressive how he did it. "King Helseth is a faithful member of both the Temple and the Imperial cult. But the Temple is the enemy of the Empire, and King Helseth is an Imperial in every sense of the word. Now, will you find an informant?"
His hand hovered almost imperceptibly near his sword.
"Fine," Llovesi said. "I'll be back before dinner."
"You're nothing if not efficient. You may yet earn the King's trust."
"Because that's what she really wants," Julan muttered as they left.
Julan was quiet again as they walked over to the Temple. Over the past few days he'd either been quiet, or making comments filled with barely-concealed rage. Her thumb hovered near the ring, but she stopped. She had to talk to him about this like an adult. But before she could open her mouth, he opened his.
"All I want to know is when this blackmail is going to stop."
"It's... hard to say, isn't it? Helseth presumably has us right where he wants us–in the palm of his hand."
They walked on in silence for a bit, then Llovesi stopped and took Julan's hand, turning him back to face her.
"Julan," she said, "we should talk. This really isn't fair on you. You haven't even had time to grieve properly. Perhaps there would be a way for you to return to Vvardenfell, and I can stay here until I find out what Helseth really wants. I've been the real target all along anyway."
"And that's precisely why I'm not leaving your side. What if Helseth decides that he'll kill you anyway, after you've finished running his little spying errands?"
He looked into the distance as if he were distracted, then sighed roughly.
"To be honest," he went on, "this is... distraction. I can focus on hating that bastard Helseth and–"
But he broke off, unable to continue. Llovesi pulled him into a hug.
"I let rage and grief combined take me once," she said. "Trust me, it isn't a good place to be."
"I know that. But it's helping."
He dropped her embrace and continued walking. Llovesi searched desperately for a change of subject.
"I don't know how the Temple will react to me just waltzing in," she said. "Sure, relationships are beginning to be mended, and I count friends among the priest and priestesses back on Vvardenfell, but I'll bet the majority of them here won't be too happy to see the Nerevarine Heretic, even if I did defeat their Devil."
"Almalexia probably wouldn't be too happy to see you either, given that she prized her stolen divinity." Julan snorted. "Everyone still believes she's got all her powers."
Then he choked suddenly.
"I just thought of something! Almalexia was Nerevar's wife! That means... you're married to Almalexia!"
"No it doesn't," Llovesi said flatly as they ascended the Temple steps. "I'm only married to one person, and that's you. I'm not Nerevar. If I am, somewhere inside of me, I'm still Llovesi first."
But Julan had made a good point, at first. How was Almalexia dealing with her mortality? She hadn't chosen it. It had been Llovesi, and Vivec, who'd chosen it for her...
"We're not going to get anywhere with me using the Nerevarine angle," Llovesi said. "But we can use the divided Temple angle. If there are those who agree with the Dissident priests inside, I'm sure they'd be glad for a sympathetic ear."
She almost couldn't believe what was coming out of her mouth. Because she wasn't here to sympathise, but to report back to Helseth. Then again, she'd been a spy for a long time now. Perhaps duplicity had become her second nature.
They passed a priestess asking visitors for donations, and entered the large entrance hall with the rest of the worshippers for evening prayer. The entrance hall was quiet, only an old woman who had to be Granny Varis sweeping the floor, and a Dunmer priest with a shaved head and wearing glass pauldrons who was lighting incense on a table. He looked up as Llovesi and Julan passed, and for a moment Llovesi thought she saw a glint of recognition in his eyes. But it passed, and his head was bent over the sweet-smelling sticks again.
They followed the worshippers as they entered a small side chapel, then broke off from the group and took a different corridor.
Deep inside the Temple now, its winding corridors were silent. Only a faint sound of singing echoed through the halls, like wind in a tunnel, as the evening prayer began. Every now and then the sound of metal on stone would indicate an approaching Ordinator, who always passed in silence.
Suddenly, a deep sigh drifted from a nearby open doorway. Llovesi and Julan peered in to see a tired-looking Dunmer woman in a blue robe sitting at a desk with her head in her hands. She jumped up as they entered.
"How can I help you, seras? Are you sick? Wounded perhaps?"
"I'm sorry?" Llovesi said.
"This is the infirmary, and I am the head healer." The woman indicated the beds in the room. Then, as was becoming customary, her eyes travelled to Llovesi's scars.
"Oh," she said, and turned back to her desk, avoiding their gaze. "You are the Nerevarine. How interesting."
"We wanted to talk to you. You seem unhappy," Julan said, but the woman simply frowned.
"What? Why do you say this? This is a mistake. You are a stranger, and one does not share ones doubts with strangers. I know what you are. You're an Ashlander - a faithless heathen. I don't want to talk about this with you."
"I'm not a stranger," Llovesi said gently, while Julan gritted his teeth. "You recognised me yourself. I'm working on improving my relationship with the Temple - I'm a friend, I promise."
The woman looked suspiciously at Llovesi, but she seemed to want to talk. "And him, can he be trusted?" she asked, jerking her head at Julan.
"Of course I can be trusted! I'm not going to run off to the priests and tell them your secrets, am I?" Julan said hotly.
The woman's lips twitched faintly, but she crossed the room and closed the door behind them.
"What's your name, muthsera?" Llovesi asked.
"Galsa Andrano. I've worked in this Temple for the last fifty years, and I'm beginning to grow... uneasy."
She glanced around as if she feared someone could be listening in.
"Over the years the Tribunal stopped walking among us, stopped listening and speaking with us. This worried me, and made me sad. Were our Gods abandoning us? Were they growing weak? But since Almalexia has lately come among us again, in the past few months or so, I feel more worry, not less. Her face glows brightly with hope and power, but her words seem dark and bitter.
"Almalexia's homilies are normally full of compassion, understanding, wisdom and acceptance. But now her sermons seem more intent on destroying the wicked, punishing the foolish, and rewarding the faithful–the unquestioning, obedient faithful. Yes, these are difficult times. And in difficult times, to survive, we must be hard. I tremble for the failing of my faith... but the God I once loved now frightens me."
The description faintly frightened Llovesi too. It reminded her of a certain Ordinator back on Vvardenfell, who had been so intent on destroying her in the Tribunal's name. But this was their God...
"How has this affected the Temple's relationship with the Palace?" she asked.
Galsa's expression darkened, and she shook her head, lowering her eyes.
"That's a different matter. I'm not sure I'm happy to talk about it."
"It does help to talk," Llovesi said. "I remember speaking about similar subjects with my friend Mehra Milo. She too felt uneasy with the Temple, but then she joined the Dissident Priests–"
Galsa looked up suddenly.
"You are a friend of Mehra Milo? She is my niece. Very well, I can speak freely. Helseth has murdered King Llethan and stolen his crown. It does not matter that King Llethan was a fool. He was our fool. So long as the puppet king was a joke, we all could laugh and ignore him. Helseth is not a fool, and no one is laughing. If Helseth seeks in earnest to be king, then Almalexia and the Temple are sworn in earnest to destroy him."
She took a deep breath and laughed shakily. "In this opinion at least, we are united."
Llovesi glanced at Julan, at saw that he looked as shocked as she felt at the healer's outburst.
"It is hard to talk of such things," Galsa said, a little sheepishly. "I feel guilty, and disloyal, but in my heart, I know something is not right. It helps a little to be able to speak of it with you."
"That's good," Julan said. "Uh, we'd better go now."
"Of course. I hope you'll come and speak with me again."
They slipped out of the Temple with the last of the worshippers. Llovesi looked around for the bald-headed priest who'd given them such a piercing look earlier, but he was nowhere to be seen. She was glad for that, even if she didn't exactly know why. Maybe it was her guilt over her manipulation of Galsa.
Julan let out a long whistle of disbelief as they stepped into the night.
"From what she said, Mournhold's on the brink of civil war!" he said. "Maybe the bastards will both destroy each other. Still, I never thought I'd feel sympathetic toward the Temple!"
"The Temple yes... Almalexia, I'm not so sure," Llovesi replied. "I don't know who to trust anymore. As if I ever did. At least Vvardenfell wears its scars on its surface. Mournhold, I don't know," she cast a disgusted look around the gardens. "It just plants some pretty flowers and hopes that the smell will distract everyone from the guardung inside its walls."
She shivered.
"Let's report back, then go to bed. The sooner we can loosen Helseth's hold on us and get out of this place, the better. I feel like it's hard to breathe."
"Yes, well," Julan said. "There's nothing like the constant fear of war or death to keep you concentrated."
The next day was hotter than the last. Llovesi felt the sun beat strongly on the back of her neck as they made their way to a secluded inner courtyard of the Royal Palace, where Tienius Delitian had requested to meet them the night before.
"There you are," he said briskly as they entered the small garden. "Now you can help us with another matter. King Helseth is concerned about possible disloyalty among the Guards."
"Straight to business then," Llovesi said, her voice dripping with sarcasm while Julan crossed his arms.
"That attitude helps no one, least of all yourself. Now, I've replaced many of the former King's guards with more reliable men. But I had to keep some experienced guards, and I can't be certain of their loyalties. I will pretend you wish to join the Royal Guards. That's your excuse for talking to the guards, sounding them out, and looking for evidence of disloyalty. If you find any hint of treason or evidence of disloyalty, report it to me. Take no action. Report to me, and I will judge what action is appropriate."
"You want me to pretend I want to join the guards?" Llovesi asked. "They'll never believe that! Not in a month of Sundases! Not even Mephala herself could convince them–I'm the Nerevarine! Why would I want to be a Royal Guard for Azura's sake?"
Delitian just shrugged. "If not you, then him," he said, pointing at Julan, who promptly gaped. "I don't care which of you does it, just get it done."
"Well, there must be hundreds of Royal Guards! Are there any in particular you want me to talk to?"
"It's your judgement I'm testing, not mine. Talk to them yourself. Form your own conclusions. Oh, and be sure not to mention your Hlaalu connections."
To Llovesi's astonishment, he actually winked, before turning and leaving them in the garden.
"Well," Julan said glumly. "Guess I'd better start thinking of a cover story involving House Hlaalu then. I've always wanted to be a morally corrupt noble."
Julan tried to run his hand through his hair unconsciously, but his fingers met only the bare skin of his neck.
Llovesi had swept all of his hair into a topknot; a style they had often seen in the towns on Vvardenfell. His neck felt strangely naked without it's reassuring weight.
I'll never understand why the settled idiots wear their hair this stupid way.
He felt strangely naked too without his normal armour. He had agreed with Llovesi that he shouldn't look too successful and have his motives for joining questioned, but he missed his glass armour. It had moulded to fit him comfortably over the months. This new leather cuirass felt stiff and smelt like a blacksmith's armpit. His new pants itched, but Llovesi had said they suited him.
Llovesi. He felt a pang in his chest as he thought of her waiting for him in the courtyard of the Palace. Of course, she could handle herself, hells; she'd saved his skin enough times. But he didn't like the thought of her waiting alone while that bastard Helseth wanted her dead.
But that was a painful line of thought in itself. Helseth. The reason he'd had to bury mother, just a few short days ago. He didn't like to admit it to anyone when he was in pain; he thought it made him seem weak. Llovesi was just about the only person he could talk to. But the pain felt as if it might tear him in two. It hurt even worse than that moment in the Cavern of the Incarnate when he'd thought Llovesi might leave him forever. What he was doing now added the worst kind of insult to an already smarting injury.
As soon as we're done playing Helseth's stupid games, he'll have me to answer to, Julan thought, and felt the anger numb the pain slightly.
He ran through his disguise in his head as he made his way through the Palace to the guards' quarters.
I'm Neven Bero, loyal supporter of the monarchy, unsatisfied with my guard job in Vivec, come to serve here...
Even thinking it made his skin crawl.
He'd reached the guards' quarters. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Five guards were sitting at the long table, eating their lunch: four Dunmer, two female, two male, and an older looking Imperial man. It was the latter that stood up when Julan entered the room.
"Who are you?" he barked. "Lost?"
"My name's Neven Bero," Julan said, keeping his eyes on the Dunmer guards, one of whom had looked vaguely interested at his name. "I'm actually here to join the Royal Guards."
"Well, it's Tienius Delitian you'll want to speak to about that," the gruff Imperial continued. "He's our Captain, should be on duty in the throne room, or patrolling the main courtyard."
"Oh no, I've already spoken to Delitian," Julan replied quickly. "He says I can join, provided I get to know the existing guards. If I fit in well, I'm hired."
"Hmm... then welcome, friend. My name is Drusus Gratus. My father had the honour to serve King Helseth and Queen Barenziah in Wayrest. My family has served the Queen for three generations. I don't know your qualifications, but I presume you've satisfied Captain Delitian, or we wouldn't be talking."
He glanced at the table.
"I have to go make my rounds now, but please do sit up and lunch with Evo, Aleri, Diradeni and Ivulen. It's corkbulb and trama root stew. Vvardenfell speciality of course but I presume you'll enjoy that, if I'm placing your accent correctly."
Julan's stomach growled as he helped himself to stew from the pot, but he made sure to keep focused on the other guards. They all seemed unconcerned with him, though, so he relaxed slightly. It would be stupid to act jumpy.
"So, what brings you to this gig?" the younger male Dunmer with the edgy mohawk asked.
"Was a guard in Suran for a bit," Julan replied, just as casually, "but wanted more of a challenge. So I came over here."
"Well, I guess you got lucky. Don't know much about the job yet myself, I'm new too as it happens, but it seems like things round here are heating up."
"Ah yes," Julan tried to look as if he'd just realised. "So, how is King Helseth to work for?"
The mer just shrugged, but the older female Dunmer spoke up, talking slowly as she pushed her stew around her plate.
"I've been a Royal Guard all my life, and so was my mother and her mother. I served King Llethan for many years, and now I'll serve King Helseth. Long live the King, and long live the Emperor."
Her speech sounded more than a little rehearsed to Julan, but before he could reply, the younger female Dunmer snorted, and tossed her plaits back.
"Sit on the fence, why don't you Aleri?" She turned to Julan, jabbing the table with her finger as she spoke. "King Llethan was a joke king. King Helseth is a real king. I like to be on the winning side, and King Helseth looks like winning to me."
The final mer, an older-looking guy with rich auburn hair, looked up at this, and an annoyed expression crossed his face.
"You hear folks say old King Llethan was a fool," he said to Julan, shooting a nasty look at the younger mer. "Well, folks should keep their mouths shut. Maybe he was a fool, but lots of folk are fools. Maybe he had no business being a king, but that's what he was, so folk should show some respect to the old fellow."
"And what do you think of King Helseth?" Julan asked him.
"It's an honour... to serve... It is my honour to serve King Helseth and Queen Barenziah. That's right. Just what I said. An honour–"
Aleri suddenly seemed to choke on a piece of stew, and her fit stopped the mer in his speech. Julan had to fight from rolling his eyes. Honestly, they had no hope. He'd had enough. He was fed up. The pants still itched, the stew wasn't as good as he'd hoped, and these idiots couldn't even hide their loyalties. Why was Helseth even worried about them?
"Yes, I hope to serve King Helseth as well as I served my uncle in House Hlaalu," he said.
The reaction round the table was palpable. The older Dunmer with the red hair sat up suddenly, Aleri averted her eyes, and the other two both frowned.
"Hmm, I thought your name sounded familiar," the mer with the mohawk said. "Dram Bero's nephew are you? Nothing wrong with House Hlaalu, of course. Not sure they're very happy about King Helseth succeeding their King Llethan, even if Helseth has joined their House. But no point in hiding it from Tienius Delitian. He's bound to find out sooner or later, so you might as well tell him straight off."
The younger female mer, who had to be Diradeni, nodded in agreement. "I don't think it's important. But you should mention it to Tienius Delitian, if you haven't already. He doesn't like surprises."
The older male Dunmer slammed his fist on the table suddenly, and everyone turned to stare at him.
"No!" he said, then looked sheepish. "I mean... maybe you shouldn't tell Tienius Delitian. What he doesn't know can't hurt him, and why would you want to hurt him? I mean, don't tell him okay? But Aleri here might be interested so maybe you should talk later with Aleri–"
He quailed suddenly under the look Aleri was giving him.
"Ivulen doesn't know what he's talking about," she said firmly. "He's not the brightest star in the sky, he gets confused sometimes. My ancestors have all been Hlaalu... but my primary loyalty, of course, is to King Helseth. Come on Ivulen, we're on duty in the throne room." She glared at Ivulen again and he followed her from the room, his head hanging like a small child's.
Diradeni snorted loudly.
"You can see why Helseth brought some of us old lot with him, can't you?" she said to Julan and Evo. "Cos all King Llethan's old guards are complete nutters. Maybe they all cracked when the old King died. Bet Helseth's real glad to have new blood around."
"I bet," Julan murmured.
Llovesi was sitting reading The Real Barenziah on a bench in the leafy main courtyard of the palace when the sound of footsteps alerted her to Julan's return.
"How did it go?" she asked, snapping the book shut.
"Well enough," Julan replied, sitting next to her. "I just... don't understand why Helseth needs us to investigate this. Aleri Alen and Ivulen Irano were about as convincing as a mudcrab dressed up as a guar."
Llovesi sighed. "But we can't prove that he knows. I highly doubt we'll ever even meet the man. He'll just keep on using us. Did you find any evidence, anyway?"
Julan frowned. "Nothing hard, but I'm sure it's those two. I could sneak into the dormitory and have a look around–if you cause a distraction."
It was easy enough for Llovesi to start the fire. She gathered all the copies of 'The Common Tongue' they had found, set them in a pile outside the guards' quarters, and let the flames jump from her fingers to the parchment.
"Fire! Fire!" she shouted, and heard the sound of running boots. She recalled to her Mark in the Palace courtyard, and sent a single thought to Julan with her telepathy ring.
Go.
Then she waited.
And waited.
Julan will be fine, he can cast a good chameleon spell, he's far better at his than me, he'll be fine...
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand grabbed her, and she had the very strange experience of looking through Julan as he spoke to her.
"Llovesi I got... well, I think it might be something. Wait, let me just dispel this..."
A shower of white sparks stripped him of his chameleon disguise. He held a piece of paper out to her.
"Look," he said. "I found this tucked in Ivulen Irano's possessions."
Llovesi scanned it. The handwriting was almost illegible, but she could make it out as some sort of schedule.
"Here," Julan pointed. "There're lots of misspellings. Drusus Gratus's name is spelt Drustus and Drusis, Evo Othreloth is also Evo Othroleth... but Milvela Dralen, Aleri Alen and Ivulen's names are always spelt the same–"
"–and when all three are alone in the Throne Room their names have been underline twice," Llovesi whispered, and swallowed. So there really was a plot to kill Helseth, however half-baked. It wasn't really surprising though, given what she was coming to learn about the man. "Let's get this to Delitian then."
A/N: So I decided to try something a little different there, switching to Julan's perspective. It was quite fun trying to get into his 'voice' Hopefully it worked! It won't be the last time, anyway!