Chapter Nineteen:

Party Animal

Milos eventually agreed that I could go to Solitude alone, but I had to spend two more days in Riverwood to make sure I was healthy. I left my rag-tag group early one morning after saying a good-bye the previous night to each of them. Unfortunately, since the novice robes I'd been wearing were covered in dried blood and, sadly, the only garments I had, I decided to stop in Whiterun to buy some new clothes and supplies I may need.

I stopped in a place called "Warmaiden's" for new clothes, and ended up buying a set of new leather armour (complete with a hood) with my hard-earned coin (from robbing old Nord graves. Then again, their occupants had attacked me), and trashing the novice robes.

I hired a wagon to Solitude after I bought some bread from a vendor and patiently watched the scenery of Skyrim on the way. No matter where I was, I could see the Throat of the World. I wondered what could make someone dislike people so much that they'd live at its summit. Paarthurnax was old, there was no doubt, but did he have to be a hermit? Just what did he lack to come into society?

I sighed. What could I do to meet Paarthurnax? Growing a beard was out of the question, though Javin could probably get us all access from his beard.

"Why would anyone want to become a Greybeard anyway...?" I wondered aloud.

"Maybe to harness that power they have," the driver replied, to make conversation. "Their Voice and whatnot. I don't know a Nord who doesn't wish to meet the Greybeards and learn such a thing." The driver chuckled. "You know, my son believes he could be the Dragonborn that they're looking for."

I grinned. "Well, I feel sorry for your son. They've already found the Dragonborn."

"Poor sod." The driver turned to look at me, trusting in his horse to follow the road. "I feel sorry for anyone who is Dragonborn. They attract nothing but trouble. Look at the Emperors before the Oblivion Crisis! Misfortune runs in their blood, just like the blood of Dragons!"

"You know a bit about Dragonborns?"

"I know what my pa told me when I was a lad," the driver answered. "Men born with the soul of a Dragon. Therefore, the blood of Dragons runs in their veins. Course, the Dragon whose soul the Dragonborn is born with has died once before. My pa said that this is how Dragons can recognize a Dragonborn. Not just because they can Shout, but because they recognize the soul of the Dragon that Shouts in Mortal form."

I blinked, surprised. It was a new insight for me, and definitely an interesting one. Great, so technically, I've lived a life before this. You'd think the Nine would cut me some slack...

"But that's just what I learned as a lad. I'm sure that the Greybeards would know the truth and tell the Dragonborn."

"I guess the Dragonborn will have to ask the Greybeards to learn something like that," I said.

"Its more polite to ask, sometimes, than wait to be told."

Needless to say, I tipped the driver.

We passed through a smaller settlement called Shor's Stone before reaching Solitude not an hour later. As the capital of Skyrim, it was as imposing as I'd expected it to be.

Well, now I've been from one corner of Skyrim to the other. I couldn't remember who was the Jarl of Solitude, but I knew that it was on the Empire's side, so there'd be a large Imperial presence here. I hoped that none of the soldiers here would recognize me from Helgen.

"That was, like, weeks ago," I mumbled absently, glancing at the guards at the gate. "It's not like they know I'm even alive..."

I got into Solitude without a problem. The Winking Skeever wasn't hard to spot, since it was immediately left of the gates, but it was what was immediately to the right of the gates that caught my attention.

"They can't hurt uncle Roggvir," a little girl told her father, gesturing to a man on an elevated stone stage, whose hands were bound behind his back. "Tell them he didn't do it."

"Svari, you need to go home. Go home and stay there until your mother comes," her father replied silently.

A woman passing by towards the elevated stone pedestal frowned. "You should tell her that her uncle is scum that betrayed the High King. Best she know now, Addvar."

"You're all heart, Vivienne," Addvar growled as Svari ran off.

Two other men were standing on the stage with Roggvir, one with a gigantic axe and iron armour similar to Milos'. The other was wearing the red regailia of a guard of Solitude, but no helm.

"Roggvir." The guard's voice didn't exactly boom, but it was carrying. "You helped Ulfric Stormcloak escape this city after he murdered High King Torygg. By opening that gate for Ulfric you betrayed the people of Solitude."

"There was no murder!" Roggvir said calmly to the crowd of people watching. "Ulfric challenged Torygg. He beat the High King in fair combat—."

"Traitor!" someone from the crowd cried.

"Liar!" yelled another.

"He doesn't deserve to speak!"

"Such is our way! Such is the ancient custom of Skyrim, and all Nords!" Roggvir continued, undaunted.

"Booooo!" the crowd cried in unison.

The guard stepped behind Roggvir and pushed him to his knees in front of a chopping block, and then planted his foot on Roggvir's back. Roggvir's eyes scanned the executioner's blade, and then they closed.

"On this day... I go to Sovngarde," he whispered.

The executioner's axe slammed down onto Roggvir's neck, severing his head from his body. His neck showered blood onto the front of the crowd as his head rolled on the ground, and despite the gruesome scene, people cheered. All except for Addvar. I felt sorry for him, his wife, and his daughter, Svari.

I rubbed my eyes, remembering the scene at Helgen before the Dragon attack. My fingers brushed the scar on my eye. I'd almost forgotten it was there. Courtesy of a rock thrown by a Thalmor, it reached upwards to my temple, and just barely beneath my eye. I was lucky it didn't do any damage to my eyesight.

I entered the Winking Skeever silently while the crowd dispersed. It was quaint and very good-looking for an inn, and there was a woman playing a flute as I entered who seemed to occupied in her music to pay me any notice. Since everyone but the bard and the innkeeper were attending the execution, I supposed that Delphine's contact, Malborn, would be here as well, and therefore easy to find. I was right.

Malborn was sitting near the back, almost in the corner, staring into a mug of ale. His brow furrowed when he felt my eyes on him, and he raised his head to regard me when I had just begun to approach him. He was really aware about his surroundings; back in Cyrodiil, when I'd left the orphanage, I looked for people like that to help me with my thievery. Old habits die hard.

"Yes?" Malborn gave me a once-over, frowning.

"Our mutual friend sent me," I told him as I rested my pack on the ground and sat in the chair opposite him.

"Really? You're who she picked?" Malborn snorted and took a swig of his ale. "I hope she knows what she's doing. Here's the deal; I can smuggle some equipment into the Embassy for you. Don't plan on bringing anything else with you. The Thalmor take security very seriously. Give me what you can't live without, and I'll make sure you get it into the Embassy. The rest is up to you."

Automatically, I grabbed my bow, arrows, and sword, and handed them over to Malborn. He looked impressed with the weaponry, but otherwise said nothing. I also grabbed a dagger that Aldren had given me "for luck", and handed it to Malborn as well.

He nodded to me and wrapped my weapons in a cloth he had brought, and then left the Winking Skeever. I guessed that he wasn't very good with talking to people, but then again, it was probably a Wood Elf thing.

Now, Delphine wanted me to meet her at Solitude's stables once I'd finished with Malborn. I hope she's not pissed about having to wait. I mean, it'd suck if I missed the party...

I left Solitude and followed the path down to where a large windmill stood. I could smell the horses, so I decided that the little farm with the windmill was the Solitude stables. A wagon was waiting right beside Delphine, who had her arms crossed and her angry face on.

"Have you given Malborn the gear you want to smuggle into the Embassy?" Delphine asked, getting straight to the point.

"He's all set," I replied.

"Good. I have your invitation to the party. But the only way you're going to get past the guards is if they really believe you're an invited guest. Which means you need to look the part, and not be armed to the teeth." Delphine grabbed some clothes off of a rock and handed them to me. "Here, put this on. When you're ready, I'll keep the rest of your fear safe until you get back."

I took the party clothes and handed my pack to Delphine. I scouted around the windmill, and then changed inside as quickly as I possibly could. When I was changed, I gave Delphine my new leather armour to keep safe as well.

The party clothes were odd things that Proventus Avenicci would wear, which instantly made me dislike them, but I was willing to put my feelings aside in order to find out about the Dragons and infiltrate a Thalmor party, if not just to spite the bastards.

"Hm. I guess that will do," Delphine remarked smugly. "You should pass for a real guest, until you open your mouth." Oh man, I knew that was coming... "Ready to board the carriage to the Embassy?"

I nodded. "Make sure you keep my stuff safe."

"Don't worry, it will all be waiting for you when you get back. Just make sure you get back out of there alive and with the information we need." I hopped onto the wagon. "Good luck."

Nodding to Delphine, the carriage set off. We travelled up into some mountains, and lucky me, it started to snow. I honestly couldn't wait to get there.

The Embassy looked more like a compact fortress, but the Thalmor guards, dressed in their Elven armour, let the wagon pass the gate. Another wagon came in immediately after mine, with only one other guest. I wondered if I was late or just a bit early.

I was disembarking the wagon when the man in the other wagon was walking past. "Ah!" he exclaimed, grinning at me. "A fellow latecomer to Elenwen's little soiree. And arriving by carriage no less! I salute you, miss!"

I chuckled. "Well, better late than never, right?" I need to remember to adapt and pay attention to what people say. I don't want to trip over my words when I'm so close.

"My lateness is due more to getting lost on the way up this gods-forsaken mountain than to any desire to actually arrive late," the guest assured me as he liesurely sat on a rock.

I nodded in agreement and approached the Embassy, but a hooded Thalmor stopped me. There were two things I noted when she did: one, the hooded Thalmors were strong wizards, and I should be on my guard around them; and two, if I could get my hands on a hooded robe, it'd be infinitely easier for me to sneak around, but the Thalmor would have to view me from a distance.

"Welcome to the Thalmor Embassy," she greeted cordially, and then extended her hand. "Your invitation please."

I reached into my pockets where Delphine had stored the invitation. After a bit of searching and a mini panic-attack, I found it.

"Here you go," I said, handing her the piece of paper.

The Thalmor scanned the invitation quickly with expert eyes before she put a fake smile on her face and handed the invitation back to me. "Thank-you, miss. Go right in."

I took the invitation, and was surprised to see that the other guest had moved beside me, and was leaning against the wall of the Embassy, much to the hooded Thalmor's dismay.

"I prefer to arrive early," he continued, unaware about my immediate desire to get away from him and get into the Embassy. "Often the day before the party. So as not to miss out on any of the drinking." I finally passed the Thalmor and headed up the small steps to the door of the Embassy, but his voice carried yet. "Now then. Here's my invitation, I don't have a poisoned dagger strapped to my thigh, et cetera, et cetera."

The hooded Thalmor took his invitation roughly. "I'm just doing my duty, sir." She paused, and then sighed. "Everything's in order. Welcome back, sir."

I breathed a sigh of relief as I opened the door into the Thalmor Embassy, but when the Thalmor's aroma around the Embassy struck me the second I stepped inside, that was when I realized that I was far from done.

Elenwen, a High Elf in her mid-thirties and wearing hooded Thalmor robes (albiet with the hood lowered), glanced at me as I entered her Embassy. All right, so it wasn't really her Embassy, but the way she walked over to me, the way her nose was turned upwards, and the way she smiled at me was all to make sure that I would definitely think it was hers. Just looking at her made me hate the Thalmor a little more, if it were even possible.

"Welcome," she said gracefully. "I don't believe we've met. I am Elenwen, the Thalmor Ambassador to Skyrim. And you are...?"

I put my game face on and smiled, remembering how I was forced to smile "nicely" for the Madame all the time. "My name is Taryn," I replied, extending my hand to shake. "Pleased to meet you."

"Ah yes." Elenwen shook my hand quickly and then withdrew as if I had the plague. "I remember your name from the guest list. Please, tell me more about yourself. What brings you to this... to Skyrim?"

"Madame Ambassador, I am so sorry to interrupt." Malborn leaned over the bar, where he had been serving drinks for a different guest. I hadn't even realized he was there.

"What is it, Malborn?" Elenwen snapped in annoyance.

Malborn looked innocently at the High Elf. "It's just that we've run out of the Alto wine. Do I have your permission to uncork the Arenthia red...?"

"Of course. I've told you before not to bother me with such trifles."

"Yes, Madame Ambassador," Malborn said, bowing his head.

Elenwen sighed and looked at me. "My apologies. We'll have to get better acquainted later. Please, enjoy yourself."

She walked away to see to the rest of her guests, one of which I recognized: Jarl Balgruuf the Greater of Whiterun. I ducked my head and leaned on the bar, hoping that Balgruuf hadn't yet seen me.

"What can I get for you?" Malborn asked casually as he began to wipe the counter. Without waiting for me to answer, he lowered his head and whispered: "You made it in. Good. As soon as you distract the guards, I'll open this door and we can get you on your way. Let's hope we both live through this day." I assumed he was talking about the door behind him.

"I'd like a drink," I told Malborn.

He blinked, wondering if I was serious, and then handed me a tankard. "Here you go, miss. The finest Colovian brandy."

I nodded to him. "I'm ready."

"Of course! Let me see if we have another bottle of that." Malborn flung the cloth underneath the bar. "I'll be waiting by the door for everyone to be distracted."

Again, I nodded, and then retreated from the bar. Taking care that Balgruuf wouldn't see me, I glanced around, wondering how I could make a distraction.

"What does a fellow need to do to get a drink around here?" I heard someone grumble. The voice, of course, was all-too familiar; he was the guest that had arrived late with me, and now he was pouting on a bench.

I looked at the brandy in my hands and grinned. "Here," I told him, giving him the tankard, "I brought you a drink."

"Ah," The man took a swig and then grinned up at me. "The one generous soul amongst a gathering of pinch-pennies and lick-spittles! If there's anything I can ever do for you, do not hesitate to call upon me!"

"Actually, there is something you can do for me."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "I can begin to repay your generosity immediately! Say on, friend."

"This is going to sound really weird," I told him, "but I need you to cause a scene. Get everyone's attention for a few minutes."

He laughed and took a long drink of the brandy. "Is that all? My friend, you've come to the right person. You could say that causing a scene is somewhat of a specialty of mine." He stood up, stretched his back, and then grinned. "Stand back and behold my handiwork."

I quickly hurried behind the bar with Malborn, ignoring whatever the man was about to do. I didn't want him to rat me out.

"Let's go, let's go!" Malborn said, gesturing quickly as he opened the door. "Before anyone notices us." We hurried into a dimly lit corridor, where several drinks were stacked on top barrels of wine. Malborn sighed in relief as he shut the door. "So far so good. Let's hope nobody saw us slip out. We need to pass through the kitchen. Your gear is hidden in the larder. Just stay close and let me do any talking, got it?" I nodded. "Follow me."

Malborn opened the door into the kitchen. An Argonian woman glanced up from the meal she was preparing at us and frowned. Another Argonian was behind her, but I couldn't catch his face. He was too preoccupied with moving the barrels of wine.

"Who comes, Malborn? You know I don't like strange smells in my kitchen," the Argonian woman said, examining me.

"A guest, feeling ill," Malborn said, patting me on the back. "Leave the poor wretch be."

"A guest?" the Argonian repeated. "In the kitchens? You know this is against the rules..."

Malborn opened the door to the larder, and as he was about to say something, the massive male Argonian placed a barrel on the floor. "Tsavani, the guest looks sick. I'm sure Elenwen will overlook it. She'd want her guests well-cared for, wouldn't you?"

I really had to try extremely hard not to facepalm. It was Milos.

"Hides-His-Heart, how would you know anything about what Madame Ambassador would want?" Tsavari questioned.

"I worked in a different Embassy once," Milos lied, winking at me. "The Thalmor Ambassador there had several sick guests at once the last time he threw a party, but he kept class in it because he tended to them well." Milos rubbed his hands together. "I'm finished now, so I can help with the guest to get her back into the party."

Tsavari sighed. "Very well."

Milos grinned and came over to us. Malborn looked panicked, but that was only because he didn't know who Milos was. As soon as he shut the door to the larder, Malborn was practically sweating.

"Relax," I said to the Wood Elf. "This is Milos. He's my wingman."

Malborn shook his head. "Your gear is in that chest," he said. "I'll lock the door behind you. Don't screw this up."

"I can lure some of the guards away from you so you can move quickly," Milos explained. "And yes, I know you're angry that I didn't let you do this on your own, but—."

"I get it," I interruped swiftly as I grabbed my weapons. "You were worried."

"I need to lock the door behind you or the patrols might notice something's wrong," Malborn continued. I opened the door, Milos going ahead of me. "Good luck. You're on your own now."

I looked in the drawers to my immediate left once Malborn closed the door and found hooded Thalmor robes. I would be able to move without much restriction once I changed into those from my party clothes.

"Did you see those robes march in this morning?" I heard someone ask. "Who're they with? More of the Emissary's treaty enforcers?"

Milos grinned, gave me a thumbs-up, and then knocked on the open door. "Excuse me?"

"Who goes there?!" a guard yelled.

Milos faked fear. "Woah, hold it! I was just wondering where the bathroom was! I've been holding it in since I got here three hours ago, and I wasn't sure where it was!"

The guards hesitated. I quickly started to undress and put on the hooded Thalmor robes when they finally replied.

"Follow me," a guard said. "Just don't ever come back here again, got it?"

"Yessir," Milos replied quickly. "Can we please hurry? The call of nature's getting louder!"

I heard the guard move away with Milos tailing, but there was still another guard. Luckily, I was already in the robes, and when I pulled the hood up I walked right through the room Milos just went in without a problem.

Okay, now to find this Dragon evidence, I thought. And maybe whatever records they have on me.

I followed the corridor until I found a door to the inner courtyard of the Embassy. A few guards were patrolling around the walls, and a Thalmor wizard was standing guard at the door I wanted to enter (since it was the only other one). I was really thankful that it was nighttime, so I crouched and slid my dagger out of its sheathe.

"Freezing out here," the wizard grumbled, rubbing his hands furiously on his arms. "Need to move some more."

I quietly made my way towards him, hoping that the snow crunching under my boots was obscured by the guards'. The wizard moved away from the door and stood by a tree in the middle, rubbing his arms with more vigor. I tip-toed behind him and then ran my blade across his throat. He didn't make a sound as he died, and to make sure the guards wouldn't be suspicious, I gently lowered him to the ground and then hurried to the door, sheathing my dagger.

I entered the solar and carefully snuck behind a guard whose back was to me. I stabbed him through his heart and then dragged the body to a corner where no one would look. Ignoring the conversations going on around me, I snuck up some steps and quieted my breathing. Despite how I was ignoring the conversation going on between what I heard was a spy and a wizard, I definitely heard them mention and interrogation room (a.k.a. dungeon). It'd be a good place to look for information.

I heard a lot of movement upstairs, so I hurried back down the steps and hid near the body of the guard I'd just killed. The Thalmor wizard who'd just been talking to his spy started to walk past me. I bit my lip and prayed to the Nine in my head as I slipped my hand into his pocket. Taking extra care, I grabbed hold of the first thing I touch and gently lifted it from his pocket as he began to climb the steps, and the spy left the solar. I looked at my hand and saw that I'd grabbed a key.

I felt relief wash over me. I explored the lower-level of the solar until I found a set of stairs that went lower, no doubt where the interrogation room would be. But instead of going down them, I went back into the room that the wizard and the spy had been in when they were talking. A chest sat behind a desk, but it was unlocked. I carefully brought the lid up and glanced inside. There were two little red journals and a formal-looking piece of paper inside. The first book was about Delphine, whereas the second was on Ulfric Stormcloak. Dossiers, I thought. The piece of paper explained that the Thalmor were close to discovering how the Dragons were coming back to life... but that meant that they weren't involved! I was both relieved and disappointed at the same time.

I hurried down the steps I'd found and examined the small room I was in. Only one door was there, and so I slid the key into the lock. Making sure it wouldn't make much of a sound, I turned it, and the door unlocked. I couldn't believe my luck!

I snuck into the dungeon and glanced over a balcony overlooking the dungeon. A Thalmor guard was partolling, and looking quite bored. I hurried down another set of stairs and to a chest beside a desk, which was also beside one of the cells. I wasn't sure if my disguise would continue to fool the Thalmor now that I was in the dungeon.

Inside the chest was another red journal and a piece of parchment paper that had writing on it. I decided to open the journal first. It was about a Blade, but it definiely wasn't Delphine. As I read on, I discovered that it was about a man named "Esbern". And boy, was he old. And hiding out in Riften. I sighed, dreading the ride back to that place.

I heard someone groan. I looked into the bars of the cell beside the chest and saw a man inside, shackled to the wall. I opened the cell door and entered, gently nudging him.

"I told you, I don't know anything else about it," he mumbled hoarsely.

"I'm not here to torture you," I told him softly, pulling the hood off of my head to show I was an Imperial.

"What?" The man looked up at me, examining my face. "Who... what do you want then?"

"No time to explain." I shoved the key I had into his shackles and turned it. "Let's get you out of here."

"Listen up, spy!" I felt my heart sink down into my gut and forced the man onto his hands and knees as we hid from the Thalmor who had just spoken. "You're trapped in here and we have your accomplise! Surrender immediately, or you both die!"

I grabbed my bow and nocked an arrow into it. Luckily, the Thalmor hadn't seen me yet. I aimed for the wizard, hoping that Malborn would be able to defend himself from the other two guards.

"Never mind, I'm dead already—." Malborn was interrupted by the Thalmor wizard, who had recieved my arrow in his throat. Malborn stooped and grabbed a dagger off of his body and held it to the Thalmor guards.

I ran out of the cell, drawing my longsword, and sprinted up the steps, taking them three at a time. Malborn held himself well, but he'd already recieved a few cuts and bruises from the guards' maces. I shoved my longsword into one's back and kicked his body off, and then moved in front of Malborn to defend him. The remaining guard slammed his mace into my arm at an angle I couldn't block. I cried out in pain but twirled my blade around, slicing his head clean off.

I sheathed my blade and grabbed another key off of the wizard's body, but my right arm was in intense pain. I was having trouble using it properly.

"I should have known this would end badly," Malborn sighed. "I can't believe I let Delphine talk me into this. Now the Thalmor will be hunting me for the rest of my life. I hope it was worth it."

"I got the info I needed," I told him. "Come downstairs, okay? We need to find a way out of here."

"You grabbed his key, right? There's a trapdoor downstairs in front of the cells. The Thalmor throw the bodies of their victims down there, but there has to be a way out!"

I nodded. Summoning my magicka, I started to heal the wound on my arm as best I could, but I knew it would be best to let my arm rest for a bit. We descended the steps and saw the man I'd just freed by the trapdoor. I reached for my new key when I heard something in another cell. Taking no chances, I put my left hand on the hilt of my dagger and looked inside.

"Ah. Cha'qim is happy to see a friendly face. She humbly requests that you get her out of these chains, yes?"

Cha'qim, the Khajiit thief from Riften. Despite our first impressions, I was happy to see her.

"You got it." I entered her cell and unlocked her shackles. "What're you doing here all the way from Riften?"

"Cha'qim came on a contract to steal some things during Elenwen's party," she admitted as she rubbed her furry wrists. "Cha'qim does not usually get caught, but she was spotted by a wizard. He saw her tail as she hid."

I shook my head. "That sucks. D'you think you can help in our escape? Even with magicka, my arm's in a lot of pain."

"She will help, since she owes you," Cha'qim agreed. "Cha'qim was being taunted by guards earlier, and they carelessly informed her of the frost troll beyond the trapdoor. Cha'qim wonders how the Thalmor are able to keep hold over the Empire."

"Ditto." We hurried to the trapdoor and descended quickly. There was snow and bones on the ground, and some of the corpses were fresh. "Okay. Ew. Can't these guys just burn the bodies?"

"They are like Nords; they must do everything the hard way," Cha'qim remarked. "The frost troll dislikes fire. Can you use magicka while Cha'qim borrows your bow? She will return it, she promises."

I nodded and carefully gave her my bow. She would just grab the arrows out of my quiver. With Malborn and the other prisoner behind us, we snuck forward and gazed down a small cliff. The frost troll was feasting on a newly-dead necromancer. I shivered at the sight of it and summoned fire into my palm.

"Ready when you are," Cha'qim said.

I launched my fire at the frost troll. Its fur caught fire in its surprise as Cha'qim fired arrow after arrow at it. She wasn't too bad with a bow, I had to admit. The frost troll lunged at us, but couldn't reach us from where we were. Finally, it died, but its smell only worsened.

"It will take some time before they realize that their pet has become deceased," the Khajiit said. "Cha'qim can smell the fresh mountain air from here. We should be on our way."

I agreed, and we carefully made our way down the small cliff. Cha'qim led us nimbly over a fallen tree and pointed to a crevace, where we would finally make our escape.

I was glad that it was finally over, even if we found more questions than answers. When we got into the mountains and away from the Embassy, I saw Milos. He saw me clutching my arm and frowned, but he otherwise was relieved.

"Got what Delphine needed?" he asked.

I nodded. "That, and a little more," I told him. "Can we go back to Riverwood now?"

"Javin can take a proper look at that when we get there." Milos practically read my mind.

"Cha'qim will take her leave now," the Khajiit said, putting a hand on my good shoulder. "But she will repay you one day. She swears it, because she trusts you."

"I thought trust was hard to come by?" I remarked.

"Cha'qim only needs a bit of convincing to be shown otherwise." She waved at us. "Farewell, friends."

We watched her go swiftly and silently. Milos shook his head, but didn't say a word about her. "So, should we hire a carriage?"

"That'd probably be best, since—."

Something slammed hard against my head. Milos caught me as I fell forward into him, and then something hit him. Neither of us had time to react, but at least I was still a bit awake. I struggled to keep my eyes open as I heard someone approach—no... It was two people.

One was standing over me, wiping his hands together. "Hello there," he greeted.

I groaned, and as a reply he slammed a branch against my head (again). That one knocked me out.

And I had a feeling that whatever was coming wasn't going to be good.