The loud clanging of bells stirred KaNack from his deep rest. He had an uncanny ability to sleep through almost the loudest of banter. Cicero had more than prepared him for that. The bells from the Temple of the Divines were meant to be heard from all parts of Solitude of the time, and Proudspire was no exception. The rings alerted him that it was well past nine in the morning; damn those priestesses were prompt. The Argonian grumbled as he sat up and stretched. His bones cracked loudly as they popped back into place. He smiled down at his wife who was still pretending to be in deep rest even though the bells must have easily woken her as well.

"Morning, dear," KaNack whispered as he leaned over to kiss Brelyna on her cheek.

"I suppose you're off again," she murmured not even bothering to open her eyes. She was used to her husband running off to adventure in the early mornings.

"Well, I suppose I could stay and let dragons destroy all the villages, but…"

"It's fine," insisted the Dark Elf. She sat up as well so she could look into the pale white eyes of her husband. "Just promise me you won't be so long next time." She leaned against the headrest of the bed as the mage climbed out and began to gather supplies for his journey. "At least that Cicero didn't disturb us last night."

It dawned on the mage that the usually present Cicero had not shown up after he had his talk with his wife. The Argonian assumed that the jester was just living it up at the Winking Skeever, and had decided to spend the night at the inn rather than Proudspire. What really concerned him was that it was already well past morning and neither Cicero or Buddy had bothered to wake him up.

After dressing and finished getting his gear together, KaNack said his goodbyes to Brelyna and then left for the inn to pick up his missing party. He found the innkeeper at his usual post and inquired about missing jester.

"Cicero?" asked Vinius. "No, we didn't see him at all last night. Are you sure he was in Solitude?"

"How many jesters do you think I travel with?" KaNack growled. He was starting to get frustrated as this kind of absence was not part of Cicero's normal behavior. Leaving the Winking Skeever, the mage started for the great doors to Solitude. He grumbled to himself as he made his way to the stables. Perhaps Cicero had grown tired of waiting and traveled ahead to Dawnstar. It would make sense since he had been so concerned about tending to his Keeping duties.

It was only when KaNack saw that both Shadowmere and Frost were still in the stables, that the mage began to worry. Cicero never left without alerting him of his departure, and he certainly wouldn't walk to Dawnstar if he wanted to get to the Night Mother as quickly as possible.

Holding out his hand, the mage closed his eyes and began to concentrate. He clearly pictured both Cicero and the Spectral Assassin in his mind. He envisioned everything from the mist that swirled around the ghost to the patches and tears on the jester's robes. Once he had focused on the two, KaNack opened his eyes and was pleased with what he saw. A cloudy blue trail snaked its way up the road. As mastered at spells as he was, for some reason Clairvoyance was always the one that gave him the most trouble and had a horrible tendency to send him walking in circles. One had to have a clear image of what they were trying to find, otherwise the path would go off in all different sorts of directions. It required constant and vigilant focus.

The mage did his best to keep his followers clear in his head as he continued to cast the spell. The trail fortunately seemed to be working as it continued along a clear path on the road, and led to the cliff that faced Solitude's harbor

What awaited the Listener at the top of the overhang was enough to break his concentration.

"Buddy!"

The Argonian rushed over and fell to his knees in front of the smoking pile of blue ash before him. A wave of both fear and despair swept over the mage as he stared at the remains of his Spectral Assassin. The ghost he could bring back within the day, his priority had now become that of his Keeper. Cicero would never have allowed anything to happen to the spirit, and that must have meant that the two were ambushed.

" Cicero!" he called as he got to his feet. He was too frazzled and knew Clairvoyance would be useless at this point. The Listener rushed into the woods and then froze at the sight before him. Blood. There was blood spread out across the dirt and grass inside the forested area. Sprays of blood decorated the ground in patterns all too familiar to him. This was the Fool of Hearts' work.

If Cicero was alive and nearby there was a sure fire way of finding him despite the dense forest. The Argonian took in a deep breath and the ground shook just slightly as his shout rang out.

" LAAS YAH NIR!"

There was a flash, and then all life became visible to him. He could see the faint red silhouettes of small creatures such as foxes and rabbits, but none that were man sized. This did nothing to lift KaNack's spirit as he was running out of options on trying to locate his wayward jester.

Getting down onto a knee, he inspected the areas coated in blood and noticed indentations in the dirt. A body had been moved, but the fact that the blood was dry meant that it had happened hours ago.

The Argonian slowly began to follow the trail of blood that seemed to lead deeper in the woods. With the loss of the ghost, the mage could put two and two together that his companions had been attacked last night by multiple assailants; possibly bandits.

Part of the Listener wanted to believe that Cicero fought off his enemies and hid the bodies, but a thought resided in the back of KaNack's head that the jester perhaps took on more than he could.

The blood stains got smaller and less apparent, but one did not become the leader of assassins without being able to follow even the most miniscule of trails. The blood trail came almost to an end before KaNack heard a familiar growl and huff. Ahead was a large bull Cave Bear, feasting on something that was man sized. The bear's head lifted as he sniffed the air and then locked eyes with the Dark Brotherhood leader. Rising to its hind legs, it released a bellowing roar and then charged directly at its new target.

KaNack did not hesitate as he focused his energy, allowing it to flow from deep within and out from his fingertips. A glowing ball of fire quickly formed within his hands. He hurled the energy forward and the fireball erupted into the raging creature's face. There was a guttural howl, and then silence as the bear fell to the ground dead.

KaNack stepped around the giant carnivore and then sprinted towards the mangled corpse that the animal had been feeding on. It was obvious that the bear smelled the blood and dug up the shallow grave to eat whatever was inside it. The mage was soon upon the corpse, and he could tell it was human. This was not his loyal Keeper; he could see that almost immediately as it was dressed in a fine armor and not the Keeper's jester robes. The Listener released a loud sigh of relief. The jester must still be alive and perhaps off burying the other bodies close by.

The Argonian began to focus his energy once more. The least he could do for the poor bastard was incinerate the body so that no more scavengers would chew on it. As he was about to release the spell, something caught his eye. Most of the armor on the body had been destroyed, but the emblem on the chest was still slightly distinguishable. Upon closer inspection, the mage's eyes widened in horror and the fire vanished from between his hands.

"By Sithis, no," he hissed in utter shock. He knew exactly whom had attacked his companions and with Cicero disappearing without a trace, that could only mean that his attackers were too much for the jester to handle. There was a reason for that as well; these were no thieves, bandits nor Forsworn. This was something much worse.

The Listener ran from the corpse and used Whirlwind Sprint to travel as quickly as he could to the Solitude stables. He practically flew onto Shadowmere and gave a firm kick to the black steed's sides. The horse whinnied loudly but then took off in breakneck speed; the stallion knew that when his rider was this rough with him, there was a looming threat nearby.

Never had KaNack ridden as fast as he had been at that moment. He had to get to the Dawnstar Sanctuary and see Nazir. He would also have to summon his Spectral Assassin as soon as possible. Only one had been with Cicero during the attack, and he was trapped in the Void. The sudden appearance of this enemy was not just a threat to the current party, but to the whole Dark Brotherhood in general.

"I should have killed him when I had the chance!"

***** ****
The jester's head pounded as he slowly began to recover. The last he remembered was having great fun and merriment with the others. Cicero was sure the other three did not see it that way, what with the screaming and then the silence when their throats were cut. Some people just didn't know how to have a good time. His face was rested on cold and damp wooden planks that jostled. Hooves clopped loudly, which did nothing to help with the pounding in his head. A cold breeze passed over making the jester shiver. It was much colder than it had been before; surely he was not in Solitude any longer.

Tight leather straps bounded the jester's hands and feet making movement much more difficult. Despite his current position, Cicero was more frustrated than worried. How was he to tend to the Night Mother while he was here? Who was to wake the Listener?

"Awake are you finally, madman?" a gruff voice asked.

Opening his eyes, Cicero saw he was in an open wagon with two armed soldiers standing guard, or rather sitting guard. One was larger and had stern look of disapproval on his face. The other looked small, young and quite nervous. The jester could have sworn he had seen their uniforms before, but could not place them as hard as he tried.

"Cicero's head hurts," the jester grumbled as he managed to get himself into a sitting position on the floor of the wagon. The sun shined bright overhead, and the jester winced turning his head away from the glare.

"Good!" the larger one on the right barked. "That's nothing compared to what you are in for, scum!"

"Don't antagonize him," said the smaller soldier. "Remember what the Commander said. He will try and get into your head. We aren't supposed to interact with the prisoner."

The Fool of Hearts looked at the two, and tilted his head to the side and gave them a warm smile.

"Sweet Cicero means no harm," the jester cooed at them. "Cicero won't get into your head. This fool can hardly do anything like this. Perhaps the kindly soldiers can loosen these binds for poor Cicero?" When the guard ignored him, the jester frowned and realized that playing nice was not going to have any effect on these men. Where was the fun in that? " Cicero remembers there being more of you."

"We had to bury them," the first soldier growled turning his head away from the Keeper. "The orders were to get you to the Commander as fast as possible and then meant leaving the bodies behind. They deserved to be buried in their hometowns surrounded by their loved ones, not some pit in the middle of the woods."

The Fool of Hearts could tell that having to leave his fallen companions in Solitude hurt and upset the soldier. This was the perfect moment to poke the injured bear with a stick.

"Talk about your literal 'dead weight'," Cicero stated before laughing heartily. The laughter was cut short however as the soldier launched at the jester and drove his steel boot hard into the smaller man's ribs. Cicero grunted loudly and gasped for air as breathing now had become antagonizing.

"Those were three of the finest Imperials I had ever gotten the chance to know, clown!" he roared. The soldier grabbed Cicero by the shirt and lifted him into a sitting position, until he was nose to nose with the jester as his eyes burned with an inner fire. He was close to killing Cicero right then and there. "You will show them the proper respect, or I thrash you until you learn to value life!"

"Salvarus! Stop!" cried the other soldier as he ran over and had to physically pull off Cicero's attacker. "The Commander needs him for questioning!"

The jester cowered against the back of wagon as he glared at the two soldiers.

"Imperials started it! You attacked poor Cicero and Lucien! What did Cicero and Lucien ever do to you?" Cicero snapped as he started to get frustrated with larger soldier's attitude.

"What in Oblivion is happening back there?" a third voice shouted. It was the man steering the wagon, and the ruckus had started to upset the horses as they nickered nervously.

Cicero smiled at larger soldier, and chuckled wickedly. Whatever plans were for the jester, he now knew that this Salvarus would get in trouble if he injured his quarry too badly. Now he could have some real fun. The jester tsked the man as he shook his head.

"Such treatment. Cicero will not use this particular traveling wagon again! He will NOT!"

The large soldier regained his composure and returned to his seat on the wagon. "Just keep quiet, clown."

"Clown? Cicero is no clown!" the Keeper snapped, insulted by the title. "Cicero is a jester! The Fool of Hearts!"

"Whatever you are, you're annoying!" Salvarus turned to the younger soldier. "Is this idiot really the man who killed three of our own within twenty seconds?"

"Cicero apologizes," the jester answered solemnly. Salvarus looked at his prisoner and an expression of surprise formed on his face. He thought the Keeper was sincere in his apology for killing his men. "Yes, Cicero is sorry. He used to be much faster. Should only take ten seconds to kill three men. Cicero will get it right next time! He promises!"

Salvarus' eyes narrowed and his hands squeezed together into tight fists. At this point it had become a game, and the jester wondered just much more he would be allowed to get away with before the soldier got himself in trouble again.

"Tell me, fellow Imperial. Where is Cicero's blade? He needs to keep it near and sharp."

"Damn you, damn the Brotherhood, and DAMN your blade!" the soldier roared at the Keeper as his skin began to turn red with pent up frustration.

"We aren't supposed to talk…"

"Shut up!" Salvarus snapped and the soldier quickly averted his eyes from the man. "Believe me, when it comes time for the Commander to question him I want to be right there to assist."

"Will there be torture?" Cicero asked as he perked up with excitement. "Oh, Cicero has never been tortured before! It sounds like fun!"

"By the Eight, give me strength to not throttle the little man," the larger soldier growled through gritted teeth. The jester could not be more pleased as his antics were slowly driving his captor to madness. Cicero began to suddenly blink rapidly and winced as if it hurt to keep his eyes open.

"Oh, dear! Oh, this is terrible! Poor Cicero!"

Salvarus ignored the jester, but the smaller man could not help but turn to their prisoner, slightly concerned that perhaps the funny man had been hurt more than they realized.

"Oh, Cicero has been suffering for a very long time now. Seeing spots! Seeing spots everywhere!"

"Have you seen a healer?" the younger soldier asked.

"No! Aren't you listening to Cicero? He's seen spots!"

The jester burst out into laughter and the soldier could not help but laugh as well. The fun was cut short when the young man's superior gave him a vicious scowl and his laughter quickly stopped.

After both soldiers had begun to ignore Cicero's banter, there was a long period of silence. Neither of the soldiers spoke to each other or even made eye contact. This was very boring and the Fool of Hearts did not like being bored.

"Cicero hates awkward silences," he muttered. "Are we almost there?"

Since the Imperials continued to ignore the jester, Cicero started to hum and whistle to himself as he looked around to see if any of the surroundings were familiar to him. The major problem with the land of Skyrim was that after a while the territories would begin to blend into one another, and it was near impossible to navigate without a map. However the light snow that covered the ground in the wooded area indicated that they were much farther North. There were mountains in the distance, but Cicero could not recognize them nor determine where he was presently in Skyrim. Another chilling wind blew past and the jester shivered.

"Cicero is cold. Cruel Imperials could have at least let Cicero wear some warmer armor. Does no one care if poor Cicero freezes?"

"You don't deserve to wear the armor of the Penitus Oculatus!" Salvarus snarled angrily finally breaking the long silence. Just the mention of the faction was enough to make even Cicero's stomach sink. He had never seen the soldiers for he had been hiding until it was safe to return to the Night Mother. The stories his Listener had told him about these soldiers though were more than enough to alert the jester to just how serious the situation had become.