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Chapter 31 - Champions: Mephala

Mephala studied the makeup of the Emperor's party, quickly deciding that there was no time for her usual web-spinning, not with these people. She would have to pick the most vulnerable, then use the type of brute manipulation she usually detested as inelegant at best.

Who among these would be most susceptible to her manipulation? That was difficult to decide, because all of them were chosen on the basis of loyalty. Granted, there was no such thing as an incorruptible mortal, but there were those close enough as to not be worth the trouble, even for Sanguine. Had she been human, she'd probably have been chewing her lip, but instead, she scowled at her lesser servitors as she thought.

The nice-looking Penitus Oculatus agent as her unwitting champion, she decided, and his partner as his first victim, to blood and strengthen the remade Ebony Blade. Probably best to make it look like an accident, so as not to make her true intended victim suspicious.

Her next problem was getting the sword to him in a way that wouldn't make him suspicious.

Festus and Cassia finished breakfast, and left the Palace of the Kings to spend their off-shift morning exploring Windhelm. It was the oldest city in Skyrim, and showed it in the worn pavement and steps, but its age also made sure it had plenty of attractions - in this case, including a house that had played a major part in a murder investigation of the Stormcrown's, and now belonged to her. They wouldn't get to see the inside, of course, but just seeing Hjerim would be like visiting a piece of history.

When they got there, an armored man was puttering around in the tiny front yard, maybe cleaning. When he saw them, he smiled. "Good day, Agents. I gather you're with the Emperor's party?"

Festus nodded. "You work for the Stormcrown?"

"Yes - I'm Calder, her housecarl. It's mostly an honorary thing, since she's here so seldom, but it's still a great honor for me."

Cassia chuckled. "Cyrodiil doesn't have housecarls, but if I understand the position correctly, it's a very responsible and highly regarded one."

Calder nodded. "You're correct. I'm supposed to be her sword and her shield, carry her burdens, that sort of thing. But given her combat teams and her husband's Porter Service, I'm actually more like the steward of Hjerim. It's a little disappointing, but someone who has ... hmm, seven housecarls - no, make that six, since Lydia was wounded and then became Steward of Skyhold - well, none of us really get to fulfill our combat duties."

"I'm sure that's disappointing," Festus said. "But maybe it means you're familiar with the Windhelm merchants?"

"Most definitely," Gregor replied with a sigh. "What are you looking for?"

"A decent sword," Festus replied. "But not too expensive, since my funds are relatively limited. And katana-style, by preference. I trained with those when I was younger, and I still prefer them to the gladius."

"Hmm." Gregor looked thoughtful. "The smith, Oengul War-Anvil, doesn't do that style, and neither he nor his apprentice are very fond of Imperials to begin with. But there's another merchant in the market, Niranye, who sometimes has odd things like that. Katanas aren't terribly popular with Nords, so if she does have one, she might let you have it for a decent price."

"Thanks, we'll check her out," Festus said. "Any other pointers?"

Gregor shrugged. "That would depend on what you're interested in. The White Phial for potions, Candlehearth Hall for food or drink - I'm guessing you're quartered in the Palace of the Kings, with His Majesty, so the accommodations there probably wouldn't incerest you."

"Correct, Housecarl," Festus said. "Thanks for the pointers - we'll go look up Niranye. Down, through the graveyard, then up again, right?"

"Right. Go with the Nine, Agents."

Festus was dubious as he approached Niranye's stall. It was clear from her display that she sold arms and armor, but the way the quality varied, and the state of the stall itself, were pretty strong hints that she might be a fence. As a Penitus Oculatus agent, he ought to report his suspicions, but he actually had no proof - she could simply buy adventurers' salvage, for all he was certain of - and it was a Hold matter, not an Imperial one. So he had no hesitation approaching her. "Mistress Niranye?"

"Aye. What can I do for you, Agent?"

"A new sword, if you have anything I like and can afford. Thank the Nine, we don't have to use issue weapons if we have the resources to provide our own."

Niranye chuckled. "And you don't like a steel gladius, hmm? Well, I do have a decent assortment. Can you give me some idea of what you're looking for?"

"Something better than steel, and a katana shape, if you have such. With scabbard, of course."

"Hmm. Let me think." Niranye frowned. "I seem to remember something like that, but there's so little demand for katanas, I don't have it here. Do you have time for me to run home and find it?"

"Sure. We're off for the morning, don't go back on duty till after midday meal."

"I won't be anywhere near that long. Keep an eye on my merchandise, would you?"

"Certainly," Festus said, as she ran off. With a couple of Penitus Oculatus agents standing at her stall, there was no danger of it being robbed, that was a certainty!

When Niranye returned, she was carrying a sword in a curved scabbard. She handed it to Festus. "Found on a dead adventurer, as I recall, by the one who sold it to me. It's nice, and it's enchanted, but no one I've shown it to can identify the enchantment."

"Huh. I'm not sure about an unknown enchantment, but ... " Festus drew the katana, and his breath caught. Ebony, beautifully wrought, and yes, with the faint gleam of an enchantment. He hefted it, then went through a brief series of exercises, smiling at the feel of it. Then he re-sheathed it, and reluctantly handed it back. "It's great, but I can't possibly afford ebony. Especially not enchanted ebony."

"That ... might be negotiable." Niranye frowned. "That sword ... for no reason I can identify, I simply do not like it. I want it out of my home. I'll consider any reasonable offer."

Festus dug into his coin purse. He had some savings, they'd just gotten paid, and he could live fairly well on Penitus Oculatus rations till next payday ... and he really wanted that sword. "I've got four hundred thirty-five septims." Which was nowhere near enough for even an unenchanted ebony blade, so he was astonished to hear Niranye's reply.

"It's yours. Just get it away from me." She shuddered, shoving the scabbarded blade toward him. "It ... makes me very uncomfortable."

"I'm not going to argue," Festus said, paying her and taking the sword. Then he turned to Cassia, grinning. "Let's get back to quarters so I can drop the gladius off with our armorer and start using this."

She sighed, but then returned his grin. "All right. Then, knowing you, you're going to want to spar with it to get used to the feel."

"Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Well, I hadn't planned on getting into armor until time to go on duty, but I suppose you getting used to a new weapon is worth the inconvenience."

"Thanks. We'll have to ask about a place to do it, though." Festus frowned briefly at that. "This is the first place I've seen guards' barracks without a training field close by."

"Let me do the asking." Cassia grinned. "There's room in the plaza right in front of the Palace of the Kings, but I'm willing to bet that's not usually allowed."

Festus returned the grin. "So you'll use a combination of our Penitus Oculatus status and your feminine wiles to get us permission. Go for it, partner."

"Right you are." She chuckled. "Go ahead. I'll talk to the Legionnaires guarding the plaza, then change. Meet you there when we're both done."

The Emperor's bodyguards were quartered in the Palace, near His Majesty's apartment, so Festus wasn't too surprised to encounter the Court Wizard on his way to change. "Excuse me, Master Wuunferth?"

"Yes, what is it?" the wizard asked impatiently.

"I just bought a new sword, with an enchantment the seller said she hadn't been able to get identified. I was wondering if you might be able to figure it out."

"Unidentifiable spell?" That caught Wuunferth's interest. "Hmm. Normally I'd charge for that, but a spell no other mage in town can identify ... come to my laboratory." He led the way upstairs, into a crowded room that obviously served as both bedroom and magical laboratory. "Now, give me the sword."

Festus handed it over, then watched with considerable interest as the Court Wizard put it on his enchanting table and began muttering incantations.

It was several minutes before Wuunferth straightened and returned the sword, frowning. "It's ... not a simple enchantment, like fire or frost, so I'm not surprised no one could identify it. I had to trace the elements of a rather elaborate combination back as far as I could. Whoever put the enchantment on this was far beyond my skill, or that of any mage I know. I'm not sure even Farengar in Whiterun could manage it."

Festus shrugged. He didn't particularly care about that sort of thing. "Could you find out what it's supposed to do?"

"Oh, yes. The effects were easy enough to detect, but I would dearly love to know how they were applied." Wuunferth sighed. "To answer your initial question, though, It's partially a Drain Health spell, and partially a Soul Trap. I can't completely understand how the combination is supposed to work, but I do understand I would not like to be one killed by that blade."

Festus took the sword back. "Since the only people I plan to kill at all will be the Empire's enemies, I can't say that particularly bothers me. Thank you, Master Wuunferth."

"You're welcome, I suppose. Now go do whatever you were going to when you interrupted me."

"Yes, sir - and thank you again." Festus left for his quarters, to change.

When they met in the plaza in front of the Palace of the Kings, helmets under arms, he smiled at his partner. "Wuunferth says the spell on this sword is pretty nasty, so try not to get yourself killed, okay?"

"Very definitely." Cassia put her helmet on, then drew her gladius. "And you remember I'm using unenchanted steel, okay?"

"Of course." Festus donned his own helmet, and drew his new sword. "You first."

Cassia nodded, then attacked. For several minutes, it was a standard sparring bout, then Festus became gradually more agressive, and she began wishing for a shield. His ebony sword was making a mess out of her weaker steel blade, and he was pressing her harder than he ever had before.

"Break!" she called, when she was forced down on one knee, which should have ended the bout. But Festus apparently wasn't listening, and the last thing she felt was a blade slipping under her gorget.

"CASSIA!" Festus yelled, when his partner fell with blood gushing from her throat. He turned to the Legionnaires watching them. "Get a Healer!"

Then, carefully but aware it was probably useless, he knelt beside her and raised her head. "Cassie, Cassie, don't die!"

"Too late, son," an anonymous man in priestly robes said, kneeling beside him. "I'm sorry. Do you want to take her to the Hall of the Dead yourself, or would you prefer I do it?"

Festus was numb, unable to either think or move. "You. Please. I ... I can't."

"All right." The anonymous priest picked Cassia up, then turned to the guards. "Someone get this man a mind-healer, or at least out of public view."

Festus stood, still numb, and wiped his sword on a rag he carried for the purpose, then sheathed it. One of the Palace guards led him inside, where Lieutenant Salvarus, the commander of the detachment, approached him. "What happened, Agent?"

"Cassia and I were sparring, like we've done a hundred times before. It was going smoothly, almost like a dance - you know how a good bout can be - when she stumbled, and I naturally took advantage."

"After she called 'break', the Legionnaire beside him said.

"What?" Festus turned to him, astonished. "She couldn't have - I'd have stopped if she had!"

"Or you didn't hear her," Salvarus said. "I believe you, Agent. But I'm relieving you of duty until Cassia's replacement arrives and I can speak to the other witnesses."

"Of course, sir." Festus began to unfasten the scabbard from his belt, but Salvarus shook his head.

"Keep your sword, Agent," he said. "I don't punish people for accidents, and I have no reason to believe this was anything else. You'll punish yourself far more severely than anything I could do to you."

"Yes, sir." The numbness was wearing off, and the reality of Cassia's death was setting in. "I ... I think I need a drink."

"I'll have some ale sent to your quarters," Salvarus said sympathetically. "I'd recommend getting thoroughly drunk, and I won't expect you to report for duty tomorrow."

"Thank you, sir."