Chapter 9:

"Give this to my love," Portia said with a silly smile. The maid wiped hands on her apron and giggled along with her, Portia thanking the gods that this woman was easily manipulated. She held out a note to the maid, who was old enough to be her mother, and genuinely smiled at the lady's delight. Apparently sneaking around beneath her employer's nose made the woman's day.

"Another note," the maid said. "I've always said that those mages need to relax their rules and let people visit more often. This will do the young man good."

"Yes," Portia lied. "That grumpy boss of his is forever running him into the ground. I haven't seen him in days!" The maid clucked her tongue in disapproval, and shook her head.

"It's sad," she agreed. "But I'll slip this into his room, and no one will know the difference. I've done this for many young lovers, you know...and some not that young too." Portia sent the maid on her way with the delicate letter, praying that nothing was intercepted, for the letter detailed her latest revelation about her presence Oblivion, and she wanted Gilthan's opinion on it. She wished that she could also have Arelius' opinion, for she was sure that the man would be interested in her spying plan, but he hadn't told her anything about the chaos spheres— even after he'd spoken with the mages. She wanted to know if his silence was because the mages were keeping everyone uninformed, or if it was because he was consenting to their directives. There would be no easy way to uncover the truth behind that, and anything that she told him, he might report to the university for her own good.

You could ask him to keep it confidential.

Yes, if she could get him to swear that he'd remain silent, he wouldn't break that trust. That was the type of man that he was, but when duty called, he might bend the rules close to breaking. Therein lay the major problem in trying to figure out how best to approach him, and she did need to eventually speak with him about her dreams. Spying was pointless if there was no one to report to.

She made her way to the small courtyard where the dead beggar had been found, and although the body had been removed, small patches of red remained on the grass. There was also a stain on a nearby bedroll that was pushed up against the wall in one corner of the enclosed area. It was actually a pretty spot with its flowering bushes and small trees, but Portia knew that no one would be returning here for some time. She was incredibly surprised that someone seemed to have come and grabbed the beggar's belongings from beside the bedroll, but poverty could drive the poor beyond their usual skittish nature. Certainly, the mysterious attacker hadn't stolen anything, for it wasn't mentioned in the report.

Portia recalled the details of her briefing, and if anything was certain, it was that this case would not be easy. No one questioned had seen the attacker, and there wasn't even a report of disturbance from that night. Usually someone reported hearing a struggle or scream, but this had been a silent killing, and poison was the only evidence of who might have been responsible. In many ways, the investigative nature of this job made Portia feel like she was a guard again, but working in a blouse and pants was much nicer than armor.

She heard someone shuffling in the shady archway that led back to the main streets, and she glanced upward to see a frail, old woman in ragged clothing. Large eyes with dark circles watched her with interest.

"Hello, Simplicia," Portia greeted, walking away from the crime scene. No doubt the beggar had seen her enter the courtyard and wished to speak with someone whom she trusted. Portia had a good reputation among the beggars, for she'd worked many jobs involving them while in the Blades, but she was still an outsider, and that meant that she had to grease the wheels a little.

"Ma'am," Simplicia replied, casting a scared glance at the bloody bedroll. "He was killed in his sleep. Imagine if I had been using that bedroll, 'cause I usually sleep here. It's frightening, it is. Poor fellow."

"Were you around when it happened?" Portia asked.

"Oh no! No! I...wasn't here." Portia noticed that the woman kept staring at the grated sewer opening at the far edge of the clearing, and she knew better than to ignore the detail, slight as it was.

"That's a shame," she told the beggar. "Because I would very much like to help, but I can't do it without information. You remember me, don't you?" Simplicia hurriedly nodded.

"Yes, ma'am. You've talked to me before, and you gave me bread...such nice, warm bread. I would love to have some again." There it was: the subtle request for a bribe.

"I might be able to buy you some if I make some progress on this mystery," Portia sighed.

"Oh, very nice, ma'am," Simplicia smiled. "But we shouldn't talk here." She motioned toward the sewer. "There might be ears." Portia nodded and allowed the beggar to lead her away from the courtyard and to another corner of the market. She thought that the homeless woman was being a little paranoid, but if the woman had seen something, speaking might mean endangering her life. "Here we are," Simplicia told her. "But I really am hungry."

"Have a few coins," Portia said, and tossed a small purse to the beggar. "So what happened?"

"Well, I let a new beggar use my bedroll—sort of a welcoming to the family, and I went to get an empty sack to use as a pillow. When I came back, it was very dark, but I saw someone walking around the clearing. I thought, "Well that's odd", because people don't usually bother us at night. You see, night isn't a good time for anyone to be out, and people don't trust us beggars, and well...you understand, ma'am, that I don't allow just anyone to share my bedroll, but there have been rumors lately..."

"Rumors?" Portia asked, intrigued.

"Oh yes," and Simplicia vigorously nodded her head, eyes wide. "Someone else went missing, but he wasn't reported, 'cause no one takes us poor people seriously. He went done in the sewers to hunt rats, but he never came back."

"So you think that he's dead?" Portia frowned.

"I know it. I just know it. Skinny Bones wasn't bright, but he never puttered around where he didn't belong. We found his dagger near the sewer entrance, and, and—and a fingernail! It was stuck between a crack in the wall...Oh, just imagine, ma'am! He was trying to escape, and something pulled him back down there to finish him off." But why was there no sound? That was what didn't make sense to Portia. Surely the man would have screamed.

"So did you see who's killing people?" she asked.

"I just saw a shadow, but the person was all robed. It was dark, but I swear the robe was red, and I thought it was a vampire, but they don't kill with daggers. I was so scared that I kept hidden and saw the devil doing something to the body. I don't know what, but Minnow was dead when the person...well, it looked like he was messing with the body. Then he went down into the sewers, and here I am, no bedroll, and no place to sleep."

"Thank you for your time. I have more work to do, but here are more coins for your trouble," Portia said. "You can buy the bread for yourself."

"Thank you kindly," and the beggar ran off, clearly uncomfortable with the idea that she'd shared her tale. Portia didn't blame her, for if someone was killing off beggars, the entire population would be on edge. Perhaps she should...No, Portia knew that going into the sewers by herself was a terrible idea. If Arelius's other Blade had nearly died fighting against these attackers on an open deck, the sewers would be an absolute deathtrap. It wasn't that a visit wasn't in order, but she had to be prepared for it, and she would report to Arelius first. If he tried to saddle her with leading a group down there, the answer would be a resounding 'no', no matter what argument he spouted.

Red robes—it sounded like the Mythic Dawn, but why would they be killing beggars? She needed to see the body, which would be sitting at the morgue. She wanted to know what the murderer had been doing to the corpse, and as she moved in that direction, her eyes moved toward the courtyard. Had anyone been noting her interest from the sewers? If so, her ability to secretly get closer to the killer might already be jeopardized. If someone snuck up on her while she was sleeping, would she even be able to leave Oblivion fast enough to save herself? Her light sleeping habits had come to a halt with Oblivion's interference, and that meant that she needed to notify Arelius of her possible endangerment. Someone had to be watching the manor, just in case.

With that in mind, she easily found the morgue. If the sign didn't give it away, the smell would, for there was an undeniable stench that permeated the surrounding air. It came from the 'Unclaimed', which was a large room where bodies found on the streets were housed until someone claimed them (they had several days), or until the city paid for a burial. There weren't many bodies in such a condition, but it only took one decomposing corpse to create an effect, even if the room was heavily sealed. The workers didn't like the smell, and they wanted to keep necromancers out. Portia suspected that some of the bodies were sold when no one was looking, but as long as no one wanted them, no one created a fuss.

She stepped into the building, which was separated from the rest of the city by being crammed into a corner off of the Arena. It was walled in, and upon entering, Portia was relieved to find that the air was heavily scented with aromatic candles that somewhat masked the nature of the building's residents.

"I need to look at the murder victim from last night," she announced before the clerk could even speak. The man huffed and crossed his arms.

"Under what authority?" he demanded, eyeing her like she might be a necromancer in disguise. She rolled her eyes and was about to reply when a voice cut her off.

"It's alright; she's with me." Arelius?

"Hello, captain," she greeted when he stepped out of the back room. He nodded in reply and gave her a gentle smile.

"I take it that you found something," he approvingly stated, and she nodded. "Good. Come take a look at the body, and tell me what you think while you're here." She followed him into the next room, where a bloated, nude, and discolored body lay on a low table. The skin was an odd purple color that made Portia curl her lip in disgust.

"The poison did that?" she asked.

"Yes. It took only a short time for it to affect the beggar's entire system after he was stabbed right beneath the heart. If he was lucky, he died from blood loss before the poison took full effect." Portia didn't want to look at the glazed eyes or open wound any longer than she had to, but she was used to this, and at least the morgue had rinsed off the excess dried blood that sometimes clung to fresh victims. She gazed at the hole in the man's chest, and noted that the blade must have been about two inches across, but then she looked to Arelius. She had done this sort of work for years, but bodies still made her uncomfortable. Fighting was fine, but the aftermath was always unpleasant, and she usually dealt with combat missions and snooping, not cleanup. The detailed investigation of murders was not her speciality.

"I talked to a beggar," she told him. "The killer wore red robes and did something to the body after the killing." Arelius reached out and lifted one of the corpse's arms, revealing a second wound, although a small one, right in the armpit.

"I figured as much," he said. "Someone drained blood from the body."

"For a dark ritual, perhaps?" Portia asked, knowing that daedra worship called for blood, depending on the prince. Mehrunes probably demanded blood, and the thought made her uneasy. Mythic Dawn in the city. Rituals. Mehrunes chasing her...

"Are you alright?" Arelius asked.

"I don't like the smell," she told him, and the captain smiled.

"I'd forgotten," he seemed to fondly recall. "You can go if you'd like. Report to me when I get home."

"Do I have orders until then? I was thinking that something has to be done about the sewers since that's how the killers are getting around."

"I take it that you've already figured out who the killers work for," Arelius said, scanning the room for unwanted listeners.

"Yes," she answered, and he nodded.

"Your orders are to keep up your work at the palace." And nothing else? "I already have someone who will look into the sewers." Now that was unlike the captain, for normally he would entrust someone already on the case, like Portia, to continue the investigation, but now he was basically telling her to sit on the sidelines. She looked at him with a puzzled expression before the pieces began falling into place, and their eyes locked together in a silent conversation. He did know that Mehrunes was after her. His actions spoke louder than words, and she understood now why he didn't want her on this case. He didn't want the Mythic Dawn to notice her.

"You always look out for me," she told him, and Arelius gave her the barest of smiles. "I'll be at the manor if you need me." And her actions also spoke loudly, for normally, she wouldn't have unquestioningly let his strange behavior pass. She looked for understanding in his face, but he was so damned good at masking his thoughts.

"We'll talk about it later," he told her. "I'm glad that you figured it out." He was proud of her, and she knew it. With a grateful expression, she stepped back and prepared to leave. Arelius, however, had to slip in one last comment. "It's good to see that your sword is back where it belongs." She didn't bother to reply as she continued walking. Sometimes she wanted to throttle that man.

*************

So she knew. That was what he expected from her, and yet again, she failed to disappoint. Arelius smiled as he watched his pupil go her own way, sword comfortably on her hip. Of course, now he had to decide what to do with the knowledge that she'd gained. It would make working with her easier, for he wouldn't need to include strange omissions in his instructions to her, but on the other hand, the mages would be displeased.

They don't need to know, he decided. In fact, he was thrilled that Portia could now be fully informed and prepared to handle her situation. What had she done about it so far? There was fear concerning her inclinations to go solo on such personal problems, but he would speak with her about that and offer assistance. That way, he would know what she was up to, and it was perhaps better to be part of her activities than to monitor from a distance. He'd tried the distancing approach during her decision to leave the Blades, and a resolution to that incident had been a long time coming. Perhaps, if he'd pushed her harder, sooner, she'd have returned much faster. Akatosh knew that he could have used her during the assassinations.