Chapter 16 – put to the floor
Days turned into a week, while they waited for Caman's return. Lucien recovered nicely from his ordeal and he found Sorilkad to be quite the fierce teacher. Every day the Dunmer would see to it, that Lucien got used to wearing the heavy armour of an Imperial guard.
The sun had already reached its highest point and despite it being a cold autumn day, sweat was dripping into his light-brown eyes. Lucien Lachance was in full armour, except his helmet, while Sorilkad only wore his pants. The Dunmer swung his short sword at the Imperial, which Lucien was able to block with his own sword. With a turn, he guided the enchanted blade of the mage away from his body. Sorilkad on the other hand jumped back a little and threw a fireball in Lucien's direction. The assassin ducked down, dodging the fire and using his momentum to storm forward and swing at the Dunmer. Sorilkad raised his weapon, letting the Imperial's sword scratch along his blade, before turning his body slightly. With a quick turn of his wrist, he turned the block into an attack. Both man first locked their swords together at the handle before locking their gazes. While Lucien's breath was laboured, Sorilkad seemed as calm as ever. The Dark Elf smirked coldly at the Imperial, which caused Lucien to growl.
"Don't be so smug!"
Sorilkad's smile grew even wider.
"I am as smug as I want, Cyrodiil."
He said, while fire lit suddenly up in his free palm. Lucien's eyes widened a little, he could feel the heat of the fire on his face. With an angry grunt he shoved the slender Dunmer away from him, unlocking their swords in the process. Sorilkad recoiled swiftly. On nimble feet he ran straight forward, watching Lucien swing his weapon. Sorilkad dove down at the right moment, dove through the man's arm, came up behind him and kicked the Imperial hard in the back. Lucien fell forward, caught his fall, rolled and came up in time to block the Dunmer's blade. Again, he locked it at the handle and with a quick twist of his wrist, send the enchanted blade clattering to the floor. His other hand shot forward and punched the Dunmer square in the chest. Hard. Sorilkad, wearing no protective gear stumbled backwards, wheezing and gasping for air, but quickly found his footing again. It was now Lucien's turn to smirk, seeing the Dark Elf disarmed. He changed the hold of his weapon, and slowly the assassin began to circle the mage, who raised a displeased eyebrow.
"I accept your surrender."
Lucien said calmly, which was answered with a dry laugh.
"Oh? But I am not yet defeated."
Sorilkad purred with a slight grin, while a skeleton warrior with sword and shied appeared next to him. It immediately charged at the Imperial, who had to back away with a defensibly raised sword.
"That's cheating!"
He exclaimed with a low growl.
"Who ever told you, I was a fair fighter?"
Sorilkad calmly retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.
"If I remember correctly, you didn't even know I was a fighter at all."
He chuckled deeply as he heard the Imperial's intelligible answer, while he ferociously fought the skeleton warrior. The Dunmer still chuckled, as Lucien finally was able to destroy the undead warrior. Slowly the assassin walked up to the Dunmer and pointed the tip of his sword at Sorilkad's heart. The mage still did not move, just lowered his head a little, still watching his friend intently.
"You're dead!"
Lucien grinned to which Sorilkad only shrugged.
"Really?"
The assassin straightened a bit, his eyebrows high on his forehead.
"What do you mean..."
Lucien was stopped short by a cold sharp dagger pressed against his throat. He froze, realizing that this wasn't one of Sorilkad's tricks, thought the Dunmer puffed his chest out with a triumphant smirk. The smell of horse sweat, leather and iron permeated Lucien's senses, while he felt the hot breath of the man who snugged up on him on his ear.
"Wrong. You are dead, Cyrodiil S'wit."
A smooth yet familiar voice whispered. A moment later the dagger disappeared and the Altmer went to greet the Dunmer with a warrior's hug.
"I see you made good progress."
Verhane said after greeting the Imperial as well.
"And for an assassin, you're not that bad a fighter. A bit rough around the edges still, but we can smooth you out."
Lucien grimaced.
"I still prefer the more stealthy approach to things."
Caman chuckled.
"Stealthy and stabby. That's the job description of your kind isn't it?"
The Imperial's face darkened, as he grew more and more frustrated with the mer.
"And what's yours? Annoying and arrogant?"
Caman squared his shoulders and turned fully towards the smaller human, his fists raised as if ready for a fight. With a sigh, Sorilkad stepped between his friends.
"Please. Can't we all behave like civilized people?"
Lucien huffed.
"Well, I can. I'm not a savage barbarian."
He locked is gaze to Caman's.
"Unlike others."
He added. Caman took another angry step with a low growl, the Dunmer being the only barrier separating him from the Imperial.
"Fuck you, asshole!"
He hissed. Sorilkad shook his head in resignation, pressing Caman back again to get some personal space back.
"You know what? Duke it out, do what ever you want, but leave me out of it. I'll be inside!"
He turned towards the cottage, raising his right hand on the way.
"Oh. And try not to kill each other!"
Seconds later the door of the cottage slammed shut behind the Dunmer's slender form, leaving the arguing men behind. Caman turned to look at the smaller male again, meeting cold dark eyes and a raised silver short sword.
"You know, I wonder how he puts up with you!"
The mer grunted, swatting the sword away with his hand and walking over to his horse.
"Of all people in Tamriel, he had to befriend a fucking assassin!"
Lucien raised an eyebrow.
"You don't like my kind."
The Altmer rolled his eyes.
"No way. Is it that bloody obvious?"
Unconsciously he rubbed over his scarred ear stump. A movement that did not go unnoticed by Lucien. But he only shrugged, deciding not to question the mer about his ears. Not yet.
"So what? He did, so get over it!"
Caman grunted, taking Nerevar by the rein and leading him over to the stable. Lucien finally sheathed his sword, following the mer. Inside he was greeted by Shadowmere. He caressed his horse gently while watching the Altmer taking the saddle of his steed.
"You know, Cyrodiil,"
Caman said after a while.
"I had a fucking great time in Anvil. Met some old friends, relived the good old times and met your little fetcher."
He turned to smile at Lucien.
"You were right. That little bugger has a knack for talking back. Had some pretty neat information, though."
Lucien's head perked up in interest, but Caman just went on.
"You had to go all assassin on his bloody face, did you? Your lot is so fucking messed up."
The man's eyes darkened in annoyance. He tried to be patient for Sorilkad's sake but the need of plunging a dagger between that mer's ribs grew stronger with every minute he had to stand his presence. Caman seemed oblivious, however, as he carelessly continued working on his horse.
"Do you know anything about the Anvil lighthouse?"
That question interrupted Lucien's dark train of thoughts but did nothing to improve his dark mood.
"No,"
he answered gloomily, which caused the mer to smirk. Yet Caman remained silent for a while.
"So what information?"
Lucien pressed, but the tall elf only shrugged.
"Ah, you'll like it. If I decide to share."
Caman walked past the Imperial, who grabbed his upper arm.
"Stop playing games with me, Altmer. I tend to react harshly to mockery."
Caman freed his arm with a grunt.
"And? You want to kill me? Listen S'wit. To me, you are a fucking stranger. And I don't like you! Don't even start to think I'll play errand boy for you lot. And you can't intimidate me like that little bugger in Anvil. You would end up with a bloody broken neck!"
Caman paused, fixing his cold gaze on Lucien's.
"I'll have a beer now. Don't think you come off so easily though. We'll ...duke it out later."
The tall mer left the assassin behind and went straight for the cottage, taking his leather bag with him. He could feel the Imperial's sour look on his back, which made him chuckle. Before he disappeared into the cottage, he took the book out and tossed the bag to the Imperial, who caught it easily.
"What's this?"
Caman shrugged.
"A little gift. Thought you like a reminder of your past."
Lucien's scowl grew even deeper, while he watched the Altmer disappeared into the cottage.
Sorilkad turned to the sound of Caman entering the cottage. His face was darkened by an angry scowl, while he watched his friend silently for a couple of heartbeats.
"I do hope he is still alive and in one piece."
Caman smiled and made a dismissive gesture, before helping himself to an ale.
"Don't worry, the sod is fine. I know better than to destroy your work."
He looked around.
"I hope you've got something to eat. I'm fucking starving."
Both mer shared a smile.
"I'll heat up something."
The Dunmer said and stepped over to the fireplace, lighting it up with a strong spell.
"How was your journey?"
He finally asked, turning towards Caman, who had already unbuckled his Claymore and plopped down into a chair, resting his feet on another. Sorilkad's brows furrowed together. His friend looked tired.
"Quite nice. Though it is a long ride."
Sorilkad nodded, handing his friend a bowl of Shepard's stew.
"I guess you have not rested."
Caman shook his head.
"No, I wanted to come back as soon as possible. I don't trust that guy."
Something in Sorilkad's eyes drew Caman's attention.
"What's wrong?"
Sorilkad sighed but before he could answer, the door slammed shut behind the mer. Both elves turned to see Lucien walk up to them, a strange look in his eyes and a head in his hand. He stopped in front of the High Elf, who calmly continued eating.
"Who is that supposed to be?"
Lucien's tone of voice was dangerously low, but Caman only shrugged stuffing his mouth with a piece of meat.
"Don't you recognize her?"
He said while chewing.
"That's the Breton lady you killed. Bellwhatever's mother."
The Imperial raised an eyebrow.
"He kept his mother's head?"
The High elf took a big sip of his ale, before burping in Lucien's direction.
"Yeah. Built a freaking shrine around it."
Disgusted, Lucien shook his head, putting the head back into the bag. Sorilkad twirled his goatee between thumb and index finger, while nibbling on the small golden ring in his lower lip.
"That's all nice and good, but I doubt it will do."
The Imperial man grunted.
"No. It may startle him a little, but it's not enough to convince the Black Hand of my innocence."
Caman stopped chewing a heartbeat, as he perceived a change in the human. Something was definitely wrong with that man. With a deep sigh, he handed him the small book.
"Here. Read this."
Curiously Lucien took the book out of the Altmer's hand and raised an eye brow as he opened it, yet the haunted look did not leave his eyes. Caman knew that look. It was the look of a man, who had lost the will to fight, who had given up. Without a word, Lucien took his seat by the window and started reading, while Sorilkad watched him with worry barely hidden behind his eyes.
"What's that?"
He finally asked his friend.
"A diary. Pretty messed up, but I guess it will help. That Breton dirtbag pretty much confessed everything."
The Dunmer's gaze wandered back to the human. His brows were furrowed together while he read the diary. It didn't take him long to read through the pages, however. Thoughtful he put the book on a table in front of him before he stood up and went to the door.
"Where are you going?"
Sorilkad inquired.
"I need to think."
Was all the assassin said, before disappearing. Again, Sorilkad tugged on his beard in deep thought. He looked up as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Caman stood next to him, holding a bottle of beer out for him.
"You were telling me what's wrong with that bloody sod."
Caman said calmly.
"Though I think I know already."
Sorilkad took the bottle and took a big swig.
"I don't know. I fear his … family... damaged him more that he lets on."
Beside him, the High Elf snorted.
"He, yeah. Pretty fucked up family."
Sorilkad nodded.
"He suffers from night terrors. Woke up every night kicking and screaming. I pretend to be asleep though."
"I would have freaking nightmares too. After all, he had been gutted while being fucking alive. I don't wanna know how long he sat there staring at his bloody guts."
Sorilkad sighed and stood up, before starting pacing in front of the fire place.
"He's healing well and gets used to the armour."
Caman nodded.
"But he has given up."
Sorilkad turned, a surprised look in his eyes.
"I saw it in his eyes. He's lost hope."
"Makes sense. He's been in the Brotherhood for at least twenty years. The Brotherhood has become his family. He almost feels like a surrogate father to some of the members. And yet, he was kicked out the worst way possible. He told me that the Black Hand would not even listen to him. Not even give him a chance to plead in his case. It surely can shatter one's confidence."
Caman nodded, before standing up. Putting his hand back on the Dunmer's shoulder he said.
"I'll rest a little, wake me when he comes back. We still have a score to settle.
It was evening, the sun already low, when Lucien Lachance finally returned to the cottage. He found both mer inside, talking in their native language. They looked up when they heard him enter the cottage. The assassin walked straight up to the Altmer.
"I need you to go to Bravil."
Caman huffed.
"Who do you think I am, Lachance? Your sodding personal messenger?"
"Well, I can't go on my own."
The High Elf shrugged.
"And do I look like I fucking care?"
"Caman."
Sorilkad said in a low voice, that held a slight warning.
"Don't Caman me, Soril! I'm not running all over Tamriel for that sod of an assassin. Especially not that amateur kind!"
He turned towards the Imperial who stared at him with menace.
"You had every chance to hide and sit it out. But you fucked up, big time! I'm not getting involved further in your mess. I don't want..."
"You're afraid."
Lucien interrupted very quietly, ignoring the warning look Sorilkad shot him.
"You are afraid because you had a run in with assassins once. Cut your ear off, right?"
Caman's green eyes darkened to an almost moss coloured shade, while he grabbed the Imperial by the collar and lifted him up to his eye level.
"Don't ever call me afraid. I kill your sodding kind. I hunt you down and rip you open. Your Black Hand friends have been bumbling idiots to keep you alive. I would not only have ripped you open, I would have strangled you with your own fucking stinking guts. I really hope you remember the feeling of it because I will let you experience it again."
Lucien freed himself from the mer's grip shoving him back a little.
"You can try!"
A creepy smile appeared on Verhane's face.
"Best you put your armour on or I gut you like a pig. I'll wait outside. And don't make any mistake Lachance. I won't hold back."
Sorilkad turned towards Caman with an incredulous look.
"Caman, is that really necessary? He..."
"You know what, Sorilkad? Fuck this! Fuck the Dark Brotherhood! Fuck that Imperial! We'll settle it. NOW!"
Before Sorilkad was able to reply the Altmer already slammed the door shut behind him. The Dunmer turned toward Lucien, who already put his cuirass on and searched for his dagger.
"Lucien please don't. He is dangerous."
The man turned, his gaze cold and dark as the void.
"So am I, Sorilkad, so am I."
Lucien Lachance found the proud Altmer waiting outside. He had exchanged his claymore for a fine thin sword and a shield. Lucien unsheathed his silver sword as well and used his Blade of Woe as a defensive weapon. Both men started to circle each other, waiting for the other to attack. Looking for any weaknesses.
"So you think you are this good?"
The assassin growled darkly. Caman smiled.
"Aye. Damn sure better that you."
He paused, searching the human's face.
"Tell me, Cyrodiil. How did it feel, being beaten up by a woman and a child?"
His smile grew a little wider. There it was again, that haunted look in the Imperial's eyes. It was there, only a moment, but then replaced by barely controlled anger.
"Oh did I hit a nerve? Or did you even like it? Tell me, did you get all excited by the torture? Did you have a little fun before she gutted you? I can do the same for you. But only if you squeak for me like the Imperial pig that you are!"
The Imperial had started shaking, trying to keep a level head and control his anger. Caman was close, he knew it, he just needed to push a little further.
"Or was it the little Breton sod. Did he..."
"ENOUGH!"
Lucien roared and jumped forward his sword raised. Caman chuckled, he had waited for this kind of headless attack. In a swift move, he brought his shield up. The sword scratched over it with a shrill wail, then the shield connected hard with Lucien's face. He stumbled backwards, tasting blood in his mouth. But at least his rage had cooled down enough to realise that he had been manipulated into attacking blindly. That Altmer was playing a game.
"Well, two can play this game."
He growled, but Caman only shrugged.
"Sure. But I don't wanna play. I want to bloody kill!"
Finally, the tall elf brought his sword up and made a rather half-hearted attack, which was easily countered by two fast and short strikes, directly aiming at the Altmer's middle. A less experienced opponent might have been hit and dead already, but on Verhane's raised shield the attack played a melody consisting of only two notes. Still smirking and well protected by his shield, the elf charged, using his whole bodyweight. Lucien was thrown backwards before he had the chance to sidestep his adversary. Caman's sword flew at him from the side, which Lucien blocked with his dagger. Again the shield came dangerously close but the Imperial kicked it with his foot.
Caman made a step back, raising his shield immediately and deflected the short sword while estimating the assassins balance. He attacked swiftly, aiming for the stomach.
Somehow, Lucien felt the attack coming. He got on the tip of his toes, sucked his guts in and stuck his bottom out. Despite his desperate defence reaction, he felt the sharp sword scratch over his stomach, right where Arquen had slit him open. For a brief moment, he looked down, almost expecting to see his intestines protruding from his belly. But all he saw was the light scratch on the surface of the iron armour. He growled darkly, going into the offensive and bringing forth some effective counter-attacks. But no matter how skilful he attacked, Caman always seemed to know how he was going to attack and defended himself effortlessly.
Caman still smiled, raised his sword so that its blade would rest on the top of the shield and attacked. With his body low, he attacked with all his strength. Lucien let himself fall to the side and rolled off his left shoulder to reduce the impact. He had wanted to come up before the elf was able to stop and turn around, giving him the chance to attack him from behind. But the Imperial did not get what he had hoped for. As he turned around, Caman already was next to him, holding his round shield with both hands like a giant plate. Before Lucien was able to react he was hit in the face with the heavy iron shield. Hard. He groaned and fell down heavily. For a moment he just lay there motionless, willing the pain and dizziness to go away. Bright dots were dancing in front of his eyes and he could feel his blood run down over his lip and jaw from his broken nose.
He could feel the Altmer's eyes on him, but he did not find it within him to grab his sword and attack again. So he waited for the elf to make the next move. And part of him hoped he would end it. Would send him back into the Void and spare him the humiliation and shame he still had to endure. He had been played like a fiddle, running into every trap with eyes wide open. Endangered his family. And now? Now he sat in a remote cabin, his spirit broken and without hope, while the true traitor could do anything with his family. And he could do nothing. He was at the mercy of these two elves who had been with him for the last month.
"You still alive down there?"
He heard the Altmer's smooth voice. Lucien opened his eyes and met the gaze of Caman's who stood over him, holding his hand out. Lucien rolled over and got up on his own, wiping the blood away. He had been put to the ground, put in his place. Again. With his shoulders slumped a little he walked away, leaving his sword and dagger where they had fallen and took his seat on a giant boulder overlooking Lake Rumare and the Imperial City.
"Here."
A healing potion was shoved into his hands and he regarded Caman with a strange look, who sat down beside him. Caman smiled.
"What? I can't let you return damaged. Soril will fucking kill me."
Lucien raised an eyebrow.
"And why exactly shall I drink it then?"
"Because he will kill you too, for your clumsiness."
Lucien sighed.
"Great..."
A while they sat in silence, watching the setting sun, both deep in their own thoughts. Night had already fallen, as Caman finally sighed and held out the Blade of Woe.
"You've lost that. A fine blade does not deserve to lie in the dirt."
Lucien stared at his blade but did not take it. The High Elf frowned.
"What's wrong? A cutthroat needs his dagger."
The Imperial took his blade and looked at it, but said nothing. Still frowning Caman quietly said.
"You did well. I actually enjoyed our fight."
"I lost. Of course, you would enjoy that."
The elf chuckled.
"I said I was good. Besides, I probably train in heavy armour longer than you are alive."
The Imperial only grunted, his gaze still resting upon the Imperial City.
"Listen Cyrodiil. I see that you are haunted by what has happened to you. But you need to draw strength from it. And you'll need strength for what is still to come."
For the first time in their conversation, Lucien turned to look directly into the mer's green eyes.
"How..."
He started, but the elf held his hand up.
"I can see it in your eyes. Still. You've survived the impossible. There is still a purpose."
A slight smile tugged at the assassin's lips.
"Strange coming from someone like you."
Caman raised a curious eyebrow at this, prompting Lucien to continue.
"You can deal death, but you lack purpose."
Caman grunted, yet stayed silent.
"Say nothing? I can appreciate that."
Lucien said calmly, his eyes again watching the lights from the city sparkle on Lake Rumare. After a while Caman suddenly said.
"Silence is the music of Sithis. Am I right?"
Surprised the Imperial turned towards the Altmer, who just smiled.
"What do you want me to do in Bravil?"
He asked after a while. Again Lucien turned with surprise.
"I thought you would not play errant boy for me."
The High Elf shrugged.
"As I said earlier you did fucking good. I think I'll have to muster a bit of respect for you from now on."
Lucien chuckled darkly.
"I need you to take the book to a Bosmer by the name of Ungolim."
"Another assassin?"
"Yes. But you might find him a bit difficult to work with. He's a very private man."
"Oh, I can pretend to be from your guild."
"That would not..."
Lucien paused in thought.
"Maybe that could work. If you get to him, say " Sanguine my brother." Maybe he will listen then."
"Sanguine? A bloody password? What's the question?"
Lucien grinned.
"What do you want to know that for?"
The Elf shrugged.
"It may come in handy."
Lucien hesitated a moment, but then with a sudden impulse he answered:
"What is the colour of night."
The Altmer laughed out loud.
"You guys are so fucked up. Totally nuts, let me tell you!"
They lapsed into silence again. Somewhere in the distance, a lone wolf sang his sad song. His calls went unanswered and for a moment, Lucien's heart went out to the creature. After a long while he finally said:
"You can't be that good, Verhane. Your name hasn't appeared on one of my contracts yet."
Caman turned to stare at the assassin before bursting out in laughter. A laugh that came from the depths of his soul, clear and honest.
"A brotherhood joke? Damn, I begin to like you sod!"
He said between fits of laughter, clapping Lucien on the back. It took the mer a while to get serious again, but when he did, he said:
"I know you've been put to the ground by your peers. And what you've experienced will haunt you a while. I've been there too. But now listen closely, Lucien. You fought and you survived. They kicked an assassin to the floor."
He paused, his hand landing heavy on Lucien's shoulder.
"And raised a warrior."
Lucien was speechless. For all the time that mer's attitude had annoyed him to the bone, he would not have thought to get that kind of advice out of him. And for the first time in a long while, Lucien actually smiled. That mouthy Altmer had shown him a way out of his dilemma. He had hard evidence, he could use against Bellamont and finally his fighting spirit returned. Came back with a fierceness he did not anticipate himself. In the dark, his eyes gleamed and the first outlines of a plan began to form in his mind. Caman was right. They raised a warrior. He would fight. And though he was haunted by his torture, he vowed to himself that his time would come. In the end, it would not be him, lying in his blood, dead and lifeless. Out in the distance, the wolf cried out again and Lucien's smile grew wider.
I'm ready to fight it. Once I was the prey, but now I am the wolf.
Caman's dark chuckle brought him out of his thoughts. The High Elf patted his cheek.
"That's the look I wanted to see. And now come!"
Caman jumped down the boulder.
"Before Sorilkad gets fucking mad at us for being so late."
Lucien awoke next morning feeling well rested for the first time. He found Sorilkad outside looking down at the White Gold Tower. He turned as he heard the light footsteps behind him.
"Here."
Sorilkad said in his gruff voice, shoving an envelope into the Imperial's hand. The man raised a questioning eyebrow and opened the envelope. In it he found some copies of the passages, detailing Bellamont's plan.
"Caman has left sometime in the early morning hours."
Sorilkad explained.
"He said we should wait for his return."
Lucien nodded, hoping the Altmer would not tarry on his way.
"Any thing else?"
He asked. Sorilkad smirked almost wickedly.
"Of course. Training you S'wit."