The next morning Lucien Lachance galloped down the road in direction of the Imperial City. As soon as the sound on thundering hooves faded away a man stepped out of the shadows and stepped over to the freshly dug grave of Boudicca Blanchard. With two pointy fingers he picked up the delicate nightshade flower and held it to his eye level.
"Aw, Lucien, you sentimental fool. You play my game so well. Makes me wonder, if someone will show you the same respect, once I squeezed your life out of you?"
He paused and crushed the flower in his hand.
"Oh I fear not."
Chuckling he turned away from the grave and made his way over to the hollowed out tree. He had seen his plan just unfold perfectly. Especially since that accursed vampire had interfered. He could have laughed out loud as Valtieri told him to go into hiding. That was just what he needed Lachance to do. He knew the Speaker would listen to the old vampire. Of course he would take care of Valtieri later. He would kill them all one by one as he saw fit.
"You could have killed them both yesterday, while they were rolling in the dirt. They weren't even aware that you were there."
Mother commented. The Breton sighed, rolling his eyes in resignation as he climbed down into Lucien's private quarters.
"We have been over this mother. The time just wasn't right. Besides we want him to suffer right?"
He looked around the chamber and walked over to a heavy desk with neatly stacked scrolls on it. He had come up with that plan long ago. A plan to make that damn Imperial pay. It wasn't always easy to keep his patience but ironic as it was, the Dark Brotherhood had taught him the discipline to pull it off.
"They will all suffer my sweet little son."
his mother said, causing him to smile. Slowly he sat down at the desk running his hands over the polished wood. Soon this all would be his. He had spent weeks in tracking Lachance down, which wasn't easy. That man was as slippery as an eel but in the end he had succeeded in finding Lucien's hiding spot. Well it would not stay hidden. Not for long anyway- He took hold of a scroll ans skimmed through it. It was a contract.
So he isn't giving out work. Oh this is just brilliant. And with him gone now... I'm sure he will not return here.
He thought, his smile only widening. It was time to get to the next stage of his plan, especially since he had to meet someone in Cheydinhal later.
He searched through the drawers of the desk until he found parchment and took out 7 sheets.
"You know, you need to concentrate now, my son. You have worked on this so very long..."
He sighed, pulling a crumbled piece of paper out of his pocket.
"I know mother. I know."
For a moment he just looked at the contract he had received from Lucien so long ago, when he still was a part of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. It had taken him a long time to copy Lachance's elegant handwriting, but had tried and tried tirelessly until he had perfected it. No one would ever question that it wasn't Lachance giving the orders. With a wicked smile he dipped the quill into the inkwell and started writing down six contracts and one request for the Listener. After he was done, he leant back waiting for the ink to dry.
"I am so proud of you my son."
His mother said.
"You have done so well. They will do what you want them to do. And then you will kill them. Kill them all for mommy."
He closed his eyes and felt excitement rush through his body. Never before had he been so close to exert his revenge. Before his inner eyes images appeared of what he would do to Lachance. How the proud Imperial would kneel before him. How he would cry and beg for his life. And he would laugh. Unconsciously his hand wandered down over his stomach and disappeared into the waistband of his laced leather pants. Without knowing he began stroking himself, while he revelled in the images his mind conjured. He would strangle Lachance with his own intestines. And when he was done with them all, he would cut the Night Mother's head off. He bit his lips to stifle a groan. He would get known all over Tamriel as the one who brought the Dark Brotherhood down. He would be the hero of Cyrodiil. He freed himself of his pants and began stroking harder while he moaned in pleasure. Of course he would make sure to have his way with some of Lucien's assassins. There was this slender Bosmer bitch and the pretty blonde Breton...
"What are you doing?"
His mother scolded him, causing his eyes to snap open in shock.
"Mommy..."
He gasped, but his mother would have non of it.
"Aw you filthy child. Pack that thing away! You are not finished with your work!"
Hastily he laced his pants up over his still stiff member and wiped his hands on his shirt. He needed to take some deep calming breaths to stop his hands from shaking and will his painful erection to go away, before he was able to seal the contracts shut and place Lucien signet into the red wax. Then he cleaned up the table and put the scrolls into his shoulder bag. A last glance around the place, he would claim as his own and then he left for Cheydinhal.
He leisurely strolled through the streets of the city, reminiscing over his time here. It was a nice little town still, but nothing compared to were he was living now. He found himself a much better place where he could dwell in total privacy. It didn't take him long to find the person he intended to meet. A petite Bosmer girl just walked across one of the many bridges spanning the Corbolo River. She hadn't noticed him yet so he followed her. He liked how the brown shirt and light brown linen skirt complemented her figure. And he liked the way her hips swayed in a very sensual way. It awoke the urge in him to take her right here on the spot. He wanted to hear her scream and beg. He wanted to see the horror in her eyes and then the light die, as he cut her throat like he did with all the others. He took a deep breath. It was not time yet. He closed their distance, calling out.
"Excuse me, miss. I was wondering if you could give me some directions."
The Bosmer turned with a smile, but then her eyes grew wide and she clasped her hands over her mouth.
"Oh dear? Is that really you?"
The young Breton man rewarded her with his most charming smile.
"It is, little Telaendril."
She flung herself around his neck.
"It's so good to see you. Look at you! You look good!"
His smile widened as he cocked his head to the side.
"As do you. You are as pretty as ever. You still running errands for them?"
She nodded, pushing a strand of stray lightbrown hair behind her delicately curved pointy ear.
"What are you doing here?"
"Just some secret business, my Speaker send me on."
He said with a wink, knowing that she had always wanted to get a secret assignment from Lucien. She nodded in understanding, a shadow crossing her face.
"So."
He said, placing his arm around her shoulder, slowly leading her away from the abandoned house.
"What's new in the sanctuary?"
She leaned her head lightly against his shoulder, her gaze turned to the shimmering water for a moment.
"Nothing really. Well we do have a new addition. A Dunmer boy, haven't figured him out yet. He is a bit strange."
The Breton smiled.
"Dunmer are always strange. My Speaker is one too. Grumpy old guy, never seen him in a good mood."
"It's really a shame, you had to leave us. You like your new sanctuary?"
He decided it was now time to rub a little salt into her wounds.
"Yes. It is nice. As grumpy as the Speaker is, he actually gives all the members secret contracts on a regular basis. That reminds me. Have you finally been summoned by Lucien? He surely had to recognize your talent."
She sighed and her gaze turned sad.
"No. Still having the same rooster as usual and every now and then I get a contract from Vicente.
She paused, then her face lighting up.
"I'm not sure if I should talk about it, but you wont believe what happened."
"Aw now. Don't tease me like this."
She smiled, turning towards him and placing a slender hand on his arm.
"You wont believe it. You still remember Boudicca?"
He smiled and nodded.
Oh yes I remember her. I know her inside and out, quite literally.
He thought, as he remembered how he had taken her over and over again, until she was raw and bleeding. How she begged him to stopped, how she begged Lucien to safe her and how she ultimately prayed to the Night Mother for help.
"And you remember that she had this thing for Lucien?"
His smile grew wider.
"She totally blew it recently. She was so blatantly flirting with him, that he almost lost it. He told her off and even threatened to get rid of her."
"No way. He did?"
He asked. This was turning out way better than expected. Everything was falling into place so nicely, convincing the other Speakers would be a piece of cake.
"He did. You should have seen it. They were yelling at each other. I really thought for a moment he would kill her right there on the spot. He was so angry..."
The Breton shrugged
"You know him. He can be quite moody."
He made a pause and carefully picked that stubborn stray strand of hair out of her face again and gently places it behind her ear.
"It was nice meeting you, Telaendril, but I fear I have to leave you now."
"So soon?"
He nodded.
"I need to report back to my Speaker. He's waiting for me."
She nodded in understanding before she hugged him again and whispered into his ear.
"Stay safe, may the Night Mother guide you."
He hugged her back and with his face set in a hard line he said.
"You too. Hope we meet again soon."
With that they parted.
He was still smiling as he mounted his horse. He would be back here soon, that he was sure of.
Oblivious to what had occurred in Cheydinhal, Lucien had finally arrived at the Arcane University. With his plain black tunic he usually wore over his Black Hand Robe while travelling, he looked like another mage and thus the guards just ignored him. They weren't even looking at him. Mages from all over Cyrodiil came and left here on a daily basis. It made him smile. No wonder a certain necromancer was at home here, those fools were so oblivious. With his confident even stride he walked over to the living quarters and took a look around. He couldn't find his friend so he stopped a random mage and asked for directions. He was pointed to the library.
He found Sorilkad buried in books. It made him smile, he looked like a ferocious Ashland warrior but turned out to be a bookworm. He cleared his throat to make his presence known, but Sorilkad did not even bother to look up.
Snobby as usual.
Lucien thought, as he again cleared his throat more pointedly this time. But the Dunmer still did not look up. However he finally got a response out of him
"What?"
he snapped with his deep gravely voice.
"Go bother someone else, can't you see I'm reading."
A wicked smile appeared on Lucien's face, as he quickly glanced around.
"About the fine art of necromancy I presume?"
He asked with his velvety voice. Sorilkad's head snapped up.
"Are you crazy?"
He hissed, and then realising who paid him a visit, he let the book drop to the desk.
"Lucien? What do you want?"
The Imperial's smile only widened.
"A hello wouldn't kill you, Dunmer."
The mer rolled his blood red eyes.
"Here to mock me?"
Lucien shook his head.
"No. Actually I wanted to ask for your help."
Sorilkad leaned back in his seat, regarding the Imperial with a long surprised look. Finally he slowly stood up and rounded the desk.
"Come. We talk in the backroom."
The Dunmer mage said in a hushed tone and led the assassin into a windowless and stuffy room. Lucien took a quick glance around with raised eyebrows. That little room had practically no free space left, everything from the walls and the floor was littered with books and scrolls.
That room looks like my personal nightmare. How is anybody supposed to find something in this mess?
The Speaker asked himself with a look of disdain in his dark brown eyes. Lucien turned towards Sorilkad, who had locked the door with a strong spell. His face was stern, as he regarded the Imperial with a scrutinizing gaze, before he closed their distance. The mer narrowed his red eyes and grabbed Lucien's chin with a surprising strong grip to get a better look at him, but the Imperial jerked his head away.
"I see you had fun."
Sorilkad stated dryly earning an angry glare. The mage pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Since I am sure you don't want a spell for a split lip, why have you come here? If it's about the dead Sister, they found outside the city forget it. I'm not digging up graves in on the Emperor's Green Way!"
The Imperial stayed silent, but his jaw line tightened as he clenched his teeth. A frown appeared on the elf's face.
"Another one? So soon?"
The assassin's face darkened.
"My Silencer."
Sorilkad raised an eyebrow in question.
"Silencer?"
"My personal assistant. I found her with a slit throat right outside Cheydinhal."
The mage nodded and leaned against the door frame, twisting his goatee in thought.
"Sorilkad, I think you were right, there is a traitor in our ranks. It is quite obvious by now."
Again the Dunmer nodded.
"Do you have any idea why or who?"
Lucien fixed his gaze to the floor his brow furrowed together.
"I don't know who is behind the murders, but I think whoever did this is trying to frame me."
The Imperial raised his gaze to meet the mage's thoughtful stare.
"See, the slit throat has been my trademark move for many years. It's quick and the victim cannot scream and alert the guards once the windpipe is cut. And every fallen Sister the last past month had a slit throat."
He stopped and shook his head almost in desperation. Sorilkad pushed himself off the door frame as his interest was suddenly sparked.
"Every Sister?"
He asked.
"Had there been no Brother?"
Lucien looked up.
" Only two so far. The rest had always been women. Why?"
Sorilkad started stroking his beard again.
"Do you know if the traitor had his … way … with them?"
The Imperial turned away from the mage and closed his eyes. Before he had buried Boudicca he had cleaned her. When he took her armour off he was shocked by what he had found. Her body had been littered with bruises. Especially in certain areas, yet someone took care in dressing her up again. He sighed.
"Boudicca was forced upon, I don't know about the others."
Then something else came to his mind and he pressed palms against his brows.
"Oh Sorilkad. Before I send her away I had an argument with her. Apparently she was in love with me and I denied her. Do you know how that would look if the circumstances of her death became known to the Black Hand?"
"It really does look bad for you."
Sorilkad said after a long silence hung between the men. Lucien only nodded.
"What do you want me to do?"
The mage finally asked. Lucien met his gaze.
"I would like to abandon Fort Farragut for a while."
The Dunmer snorted.
"You think hiding is the right course of action right now? Don't you think it would look like a confession of guild?"
Lucien quickly closed his distance to Sorilkad and shouted, his face distorted by a sudden fit of anger:
"What am I supposed to do? The Black Hand will come to the conclusion that I am the culprit. Shall I sit in that dingy fort and await my execution? I want to send the real traitor to the Void. I can't do that if I'm dead."
A deep scowl appeared on Sorilkad's face. Being screamed at was one thing he did not take well.
"Don't you dare talking to me like that!"
He shouted back.
"You don't have a damn clue who did this. And as it looks you've been outsmarted. Damn it, Cyrodiil! Your traitor is always a step ahead. You'll never catch him!"
Lucien was taken aback. There was a truth in the Dunmer's words he had not thought about earlier. His whole posture slumped.
"Then what is the point of fighting if he is always a step ahead? Sorilkad I did not want to hide away. But I need a safe haven if the noose really tightens around my neck."
Sorilkad was silent for a long time, staring at the assassin with unwavering eye, while the other man was pacing the room
"Where do you want to stay? In one of the guildhalls?"
The Imperial shook his head.
"I'm no member of the Mages Guild, and I don't intent of being one."
Sorilkad huffed.
"So you want me to find you a nice cosy hiding spot."
Lucien nodded, an uncharacteristic hopeful gleam in his brown eyes. The scowl on the Dunmer's face deepened.
"Who do you think I am? A guide for better hiding places? You can't be serious."
"Soril. I came to you, because I trust you."
Again the Dunmer snorted in disdain.
"Wrong, Lucien. You came to me, because I am the only one you can turn to."
The Imperial had a sharp remark on his tongue but bit it back. The elf was right after all. Where else should he turn for help? He could camp out somewhere in the wilderness of course, but he was not looking forward that prospect.
"And,"
the sorcerer continued.
"You thought, that I need to have a hideout to make my experiments."
Lucien did not respond. He had indeed hoped, Sorilkad would have such a hideout. Apparently he was wrong about that. He heaved a sigh of resignation and made for the door. He was left with two options now, return to his fort or camp in the wild.
"I'm sorry, I disturbed your … studies. I will not bother you again."
He said with his voice flat, while waiting for Sorilkad to unlock the door. Instead he felt the mer's warm hand on his shoulder, urging him to turn around. The usual scowl was gone as Sorilkad regarded his friend. He knew it must have taken a lot out of the assassin to reach out and seek help. And he was no one who let his friends down. Not in such a situation. He kept his hand on the Imperial's shoulder while his other hand dug around a pocket in his robe. He produced a tiny silver key and pressed it into Lucien's hand.
"Look, Lucien. There is a small farm between Bruma and Cheydinhal. It's called Harm's Folly. Stumbled upon it by chance and found the original owner dead by a grave outside. Had some pretty nasty wounds...I use it occasionally."
He paused, sharing a rare smile with the assassin.
"Give me your map, I'll mark it for you. It is pretty hard to find otherwise."
Shortly after Sorilkad Malur watched the Speaker of the Black Hand depart with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Somehow he knew that this was not going to end well. His friend was in a situation where he could not get himself out unless he had something to point him towards the traitor. A traitor, who was extremely good at leaving no traces behind. And with no witnesses of the murders, there were no clues at all. The traitor had made sure of that.
Witnesses
The Dunmer thought, as he settled down at his desk again and started at the book he was reading.
Maybe there are some witnesses after all. Lucien just looked in the wrong places.
Smiling he put the book away and made his way over to his living quarters to make himself ready for travel. He was going to Chorrol.
It's time I pay a visit to a friend.