Chapter 4:
Beras woke with a start and sat up as quickly as an arrow, smashing his head into something hard. Her rubbed his forehead, and looked up to see Annel looming over him, doing the same.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
Annel shook her head as if to shake off the pain. "Nevermind that," she said. "You're being called by the captains. They need you for something."
"What!?" he cried. "Have you been taking skooma!? What in the name of Talos would they want with me!?" He had never been chosen for any kind of task, except cleaning and tending to the horses, and you didn't get called by the captains for that.
"What are you waiting for!?" Annel shouted. "Go! Go!"
Walking through the temple felt like walking through mud. It was as if time was oozing around him. Something must have gone horribly wrong, otherwise they would never have resorted to using him. Either that or they weren't planning on using him at all. Possibly they found out about his secret training, and they were going to punish him. But then, Annel would be punished too, so it couldn't be that.
The doors swung open slowly, giving out a long low creaking sound that accurately portrayed Beras' thoughts. The captains were sitting around the fire, perfectly silent. Each one had their eyes fixed on him. He felt like he was going to vomit. Or faint. Or both.
"This, fellow captains, is a first," said Ceolwe. "Beras seems to be on time."
No responses. No noise but the crackling of the fire and the ringing in his ears that was getting louder and louder and louder…
Ceolwe's mouth moved. "Wh-what?" Beras stammered.
She rolled her eyes. "I asked if you were ready for your first deployment."
Beras just stood, dumbfounded. He didn't respond for a few seconds. "My first… what?"
"Deployment. You'll be leaving the temple and helping on a mission."
Ever since he had come to the temple, he had dreamed of going on a mission, of actually being useful. But now that it was actually happening, he didn't feel ready. He didn't feel like it was real.
Ceolwe cleared her throat. "Seeing how you've been standing there for a few minutes I can only assume you have some sort of incredibly slow thought process going on through your head, probably contemplating whether or not you want to do this."
Beras blinked back to reality and shrugged.
"Anyway," she continued, "You won't actually be fighting. It's a long journey, and we just need you to look after the horses on the trip."
"How long?" Beras asked.
"You'll be entering Riverhold, the most northern city in Elsweyr. Naturally, you won't be wearing your Blades armor, or you'd be killed on sight. Just try to get into the city, and your comrades will take it from there."
He stood there, unmoving. Something had paralyzed him. Was it fear? Excitement? Whatever it was, it had completely taken him over. It took a few minutes before he was able to turn around and leave.
As he left the door, Ceolwe spoke once more. "Oh, and Beras?" She said.
He turned around and met eyes with her.
"Try not to die."
A few hours had passed since he was told about his mission, and Beras still hadn't prepared himself. He lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. It might just be the last time he could be in his bed. There were always those who didn't return from missions, even those that could handle themselves.
Annel wasn't coming on the mission, so she couldn't help him. She was probably the only one who would go out of her way to make sure he didn't die. For all he knew, that was the only reason he was on the mission: As some kind of distraction or diversion, and his death would signal some sort of coordinated attack.
He couldn't bring his armor or his katana, not that it would have helped him. There really wasn't much he could bring at all. Those who were in charge of the mission would bring the food and water, for both the horses and the people, so he couldn't bring that. He fished through his chest and took out an old amulet that had belonged to his family. It was dirty, but he was quite sure it was made of real gold. Sometimes in the light, it seemed to shine a strange green shade.
He slipped it around his neck, and headed out to the main hall. There he saw Geoffrey, the smith, handing out daggers to those who were to be travelling. The were small, and each was affixed to a sheath that slipped into the sleeve of the robes they were to be wearing. That way no one would suspect that they were at all dangerous.
Fourteen people in total would be seeing the completion of the operation. Besides him there was Anthir, the dark elf, three Bretons, five Nords, and four other Imperials, one of which was captain Aereth, and small but strong and quick man.
Tending to fourteen horses wouldn't be easy, naturally, but it was choosing which ones to bring that was truly difficult. He needed strong horses in case a fight broke out, but also swift horses because they were travelling great distances. There also couldn't be too much of a variation in speed so no one rider got ahead of the others.
Eventually, he managed to gather a group of them. The other blades were ready, all wearing identical sets of forest green robes. They were masquerading as monks of Julianos, on a pilgrimage to the deserts of Elsweyr.
He would be riding a relatively large paint horse named Sandshine. She was somewhat temperamental, but he could easily control her and keep her calm. He leaped up onto her back and shuffled around, trying to get comfortable.
Annel stepped up to him from behind his horse. She had a solemn look about her face, quite uncharacteristic of her.
"What's wrong?" Beras asked her. He didn't like seeing her like this: it was alarming, to say the least.
"Just," she muttered. "Try to stay safe. If things get really bad, run and hide. Don't try to fight."
"But we're blades," he protested. "We have to try to fight back against these elves. If I die in the process of doing that-"
"Don't you dare!" Annel interrupted. "Dying isn't worth it for any cause. I don't care what they teach you, I'd sooner see you join the Thalmor than die."
"What's gotten into you?" Beras asked, his voice filled with concern.
She sighed and shook her head. "You aren't ready for this. I don't know what they're planning, but there's no way in Oblivion that they would send you on this dangerous a mission just to tend to some horses." She looked around to make sure no one was listening, then went on. "I think they might be trying to get you out of they way, or use you like some sort of gambling chip. Anyway, watch your back and at the first sign of danger, run."
Beras nodded. Aereth called out, signaling for them to move forwards. Beras gave Sandshine a slight nudge with his boot and rushed out into the south. His throat felt dry after hearing what Annel had to say, and he looked around at his comrades. How many of them would be willing to watch him die for the success of the mission? Probably most, if not all of them.
He looked back at the temple, and saw Annel, her golden hair blowing in the wind. Her face was glistening as if wet. He turned back forwards, and took a deep breath.
The success of this operation depended on his trust in his captains and their plans. He couldn't let his doubts and fears get in the way of that.