Chapter 18 – Cheydinhal

It didn't take Uvani's Silencer long to track down Caman Verhane and follow him to his living place. That Altmer didn't seem to care about a thing in this world and sauntered through life, as if he owned all of Tamriel. Now Banus Alor lay in wait, keeping a close eye on the entrance of the remote cabin the Altmer had disappeared in. He wasn't sure how long he waited in the cold, but shortly after afternoon it had started to snow. The Dunmer assassin blew his breath into his hands. He was freezing and was getting impatient. So far, nothing had moved. The Altmer hadn't come out again and nothing had even come close the cabin. The only other living being he saw was an Imperial Legion Soldier riding past the Blue Road on his black warhorse. Banus sighed. This was a colossal waist of time.

Uvani will kill me if I don't bring him any information.

He thought, looking around the area for the umpteenth time. He shivered in the cold and again he had the feeling that he would gain nothing sitting around and doing nothing. He took a deep breath and stood up, finally abandoning his hiding place. He had chosen normal clothes over his leather armour and though he was soaked now, this might come in handy after all. He walked up to the cabin as casual as possible. At the door he paused a moment and again a shiver run down his back.

Dear Sithis, it has gotten cold the last hour.

He thought warily and knocked. Nothing happened, no one answered the door. Banus raised an eyebrow. Why wasn't Verhane opening? He had made sure, that there was only one entrance and he doubted the Altmer had crept out of a window. Besides he had been very careful not to be seen, he was sure the warrior hadn't noticed him following. Again he knocked, a bit louder this time and again he received no answer. Frowning he tried the door and found it unlocked. Banus paused a moment, pulling his dagger from the sheath, before entering.
The inside of the cabin was surprisingly dark and it took the Dunmer a moment to let his eyes adjust. He wondered why Verhane had only lit two candles, when it was already gloomy outside. His frown only deepened as he got aware that the cabin was empty.

That's impossible

He thought with surprise. He was sure, that the Altmer hadn't come out again. He would have noticed. He took a couple of steps into the cabin, looking for a trapdoor. Maybe there was a crawlspace or basement under the cabin. He bit his lower lip. This wasn't good. His grip on his dagger tightened, he felt like walking right into a trap.

Maybe Bloodhunt will do...

He thought, but then froze to the spot as something cold and very sharp was pressed against his throat from behind.

"I would let go of that puny dagger if I were you."

He heard the smooth but chilling voice of Caman Verhane from behind. Shortly he wondered how a guy his size could move this quietly but as the knife pressed into his skin harder his own dagger clattered to the floor.

"Ah. Good boy!"

Caman cooed kicking the dagger away from the assassin.

"Now tell me. What the fuck you were doing in my cabin! Trying to rob me, asshole?"

Alor swallowed, thinking quickly.

"NO! No... I was...merely looking for shelter."

The tall elf behind him chuckled so coolly, it made Alor's hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Yeah right, with a drawn weapon! Don't take me for a bloody idiot!"

The Dunmer started to sweat. He needed to convince the Altmer whether to allow him to stay or to let him go. At the moment he would prefer that latter.

"I came in armed in case of bandits..."

He paused, trying to look over his shoulder.

"Are you a bandit? Please, you can have all my money, but just let me go. I wont tell the guards..."

"Shut up!"

Caman hissed, but made no further move.

"Yes ...yes .. I'm sorry."

Banus received a kick to the back of his knees, sending him to the ground, while the Altmer's hand grabbed his short hair painfully tight, pulling the head back. The knife returned to his throat.

"I said, stop yapping you dolt!"

The young elf looked up into cold green eyes. A brief moment of silence descended upon them, then Caman looked up.

"What do you think?"

Alor blinked, trying to see with whom Verhane was talking. A deep gravelly voice came out of the dark.

"I don't know. Get him up, that I can take a better look."

Metal scratched on metal as the knife was finally sheathed and then Banus was yanked back up to his feet again. Strong hands closed around his upper arms.

"Make no mistake you little fetcher, haven't killed asshole in a long time."

Caman warned the young elf. He only nodded and fixed his eyes on the person in front of him. Across he room stood another Dunmer with blood-red piercing eyes and a scowl on his tattooed face, that rivalled the one of his Speaker. He stooped down, picking up the discarded dagger, turning it over in his hand. Sorilkad fixed Banus with a long scrutinizing stare before he said:

"That's a fine dagger you've got there. Judging from your attire, it doesn't seem very fitting."

The Morrowind native Dunmer moved closer to Banus and light fell upon his robe. Banus swallowed involuntarily, recognizing the emblem on the mages' chest.

A Necromancer?

he asked himself in slight shock.

Why would a warrior work with a Necromancer?

Again his head was pulled back by his hair, causing him to wince a little in pain.

"What were you doing here?"

Caman asked, before letting the young mer's head go. Banus half turned.

"I was just looking for shelter. It's snowing outside and I'm still a long way from the next city."

He looked back at the Necromancer, who's eyes flickered over to the window.

"Please just let me go. You can keep the dagger if you want."

The scowl on Sorilkad deepened.

"How did you get it!"

Banus eyes widened a little, looking from the Dunmer back to the Altmer.

"I was given it by my father."

That wasn't a lie, he had received it as a bonus for a contract fulfilled. And wasn't a Speaker like a father to his Sanctuary?
The Dark Elf took another step closer to the younger one, his lips tucked up in a half smile. For a moment Banus hoped his story had convinced the two mer, it was plausible enough. But then his hope was crushed by three simple words.

"I'm not convinced."

Alor's eyes widened a little more, trying to take a step back from the Dunmer sorcerer. Before he was able to react, Caman bend one of his arms onto his back, almost popping his shoulder out of it's socket, while pulling his head back by his chin. The Necromancer extended on arm, palm face up. It lit up with an eerily green glowing ball.

"Normally I use this spell on corpses."

He said with a cold smirk on his face.

"I always wondered what it would do on the living."

Banus tried to pull away, but Caman pulled his armlock only tighter, making him cry out in pain.
With wide eyes he looked at the ball of green light, now only inches away from his face. There was no escaping this time.
The door slammed open, causing the spell to fade away and both elves straighten up. Banus winced at Caman's sudden movement, but a second later, relieve flooded him as he saw an Imperial Soldier standing in the doorway. His dark eyes scanned the room looking from elf to elf.

"Is there a problem?"

He asked. Hope bloomed in Alor's chest. Those damn Imperials seemed to be good for something after all and the young Dunmer opened his mouth. Before he could get one word out however, Caman already answered.

"That dimwit snuck in."

"No! I only was in need of shelter. I meant no harm."

The Imperial Soldier stepped closer to the young mer, staring at Banus with such a cold stare, it made the his skin crawl.

"He's lying!"

The Imperial finally said, leaving Banus speechless.

How did he figure it out?

The soldier glanced down at the dagger, that was still in Sorilkad's hand.

"He's an assassin."

Banus eyes went round with shock, before he was turned around by the Altmer. Caman grabbed the collar of the elf's shirt tight enough, it made his knuckles crack.

"My friend Tullius here said your are an assassin..."

The High Elf slowly lifted Banus up, until he struggled to stay on his toes and the collar bit into his throat making Banus cough.

"Tell me little Dunmer, are you a bloody assassin?"

Alor shook his head. Even though he was in a desperate situation, he would not betray the Dark Brotherhood. Caman lifted him higher, letting his feet dangle in the air, while the tight shirt collar began to constrict his throat even more.

"But my friend Tullius is always right about these things."

Banus hands clawed at Verhane's wrists, trying to pry himself free. When he had accepted this contract from Uvani, he never thought he would get this deep into trouble.

"I...no..."

He stammered, spots beginning to dance in front of his eyes.

"I could kill you S'wit. My friend needs bodies to work on. You'd be his thrall..."

"Caman!"

The Imperial hissed, stepping beside the tall mer, who hesitantly sat Alor down on his feet. The young mer gasped for air, and his knees shook slightly, yet he was happy to be released. As he looked up, his eyes were again met by the cold calculating gaze of the Imperial. A shiver ran down his spine. That was one creepy soldier.

"He's not here to kill, he was send for information."

He finally said in his low calm voice. The young assassin looked from the High Elf to the soldier and back. He never had found him in such a hopeless situation before and silently prayed to the Night Mother to help him.

"I guess my visit made someone nervous."

Caman said, grinning at the Imperial. Again these unnerving dark brown eyes stared into Banus' red ones.

How does he know? Is he reading my mind?

Banus thought in slight panic. The need to get out of the situation was overwhelming by now. He was a trained assassin, how could he have let himself get into that kind of hopeless situation? He had fought stronger looking opponents, but with these three men, he's willpower seemed gone. He began to suspect, that one of them used a spell to drain his willpower. His train of thoughts was disrupted, as he felt fingers curl into his collar again. This time however it was not the Altmer, but the Imperial that grabbed him tightly pulling him close. The young Dunmer fixed his eyes to the man's face and for the first time he got a good glimpse on the details. That soldier seemed to be a veteran, judging of all the scars on his face. There was one thin angry line reaching from the corner of his mouth up almost to his ear, disappearing beneath the helmet. It almost looked like someone tried to enlarge his grin. Banus shook himself, as he realised that the Imperial had spoken to him. His grip tightened.

"Am I right?"

He hissed at Banus and all he could do was nod. A creepy smile appeared on the soldier's face.

"Well then, little assassin."

He almost purred in his velvety voice.

"Tell your friends, that Caman is under the protection of the Empire."

A pause and the hands on his collar disappeared, straightening out his shirt.

"I don't think you lot want to have Adamus Phillida on your doorstep, now do you?"

Inwardly Banus cringed at the name, but shook his head. He was sure, that Uvani would not like this kind of information. He felt, that he pretty much failed his Speaker. The Imperial Legion Soldier took a step back and put his hand on his Necromancer friend's shoulder.

"And now out before I change my mind!"

Banus scurried out of the cabin, the freezing temperature and snow far more welcome than the company of those three men. He ran all the way down to the ruins of Fort Urasek, where he had left his horse behind. Still shaking he pulled himself up into the saddle before he heaved a sigh. As much discomfort as those three had caused him, he feared Speaker Uvani a little more. He knew Uvani wasn't fond of him and he suspected that the mer would demote him for sure.

Better get it over with.

He thought, turning his horse towards the direction of Bruma. It was still a couple of hours till nightfall and he knew that Uvani was at Bruma every Fredas. If he rode fast he could make it there in time.

Inside the cabin, Sorilkad turned towards the soldier.

"Bold move! How did you know he was lying?"

The Imperial snorted.

"He was creeping around outside. Besides I know this dagger, belonged to a fellow Speaker once."

Sorilkad looked down at the fine ebony dagger and shook his head, a deep scowl on his face.

"Still...Lucien that was foolish. We had the situation under control."

Lucien chuckled darkly.

"So I have seen. You two scared the living daylights out of that poor guy. What kind of spell was that any ways."

Sorilkad grinned darkly.

"Oh it's called Wild Earwig. It causes a most uncomfortable noise inside the victim's mind. Seizures even..."

The Dark Elf paused, before continuing in a more serious tone of voice.

"What if he recognized you? Our whole advantage would be gone."

With a sigh, Lucien took his helmet off and shook his hair out.

"Well. He did not."

Caman frowned.

"You sure?"

"He would have reacted otherwise, if he had recognised me."

Lucien pulled his gauntlets of as well, putting them aside on a table, next to his helmet.

"This was non of my assassins. You see, Sanctuaries normally do not mingle to ensure the safety of the others, if one should fall. Only the Black Hand knows where all Sanctuaries are and have access to them all."

Sorilkad only shrugged at his friend, still a sour look on his face.

"And if he describes you to his Speaker?"

At this Lucien only laughed out loud.

"He can try, Sorilkad, he can try. I mean look at me! Nearly all legionnaires are Imperials and as much as it pains me to say, with all that metal around our faces we pretty much look the same."

Beside him the High Elf snorted in laughter, his hand landing heavy on Lucien's shoulder.

"I fucking love that guy! Can we keep him, Sorilkad?"

The Dunmer's scowl grew even deeper, his eyes looking from man to mer in disbelieve. Finally he whirled around and threw his hands up in frustration, hissing under his breath.

"Shein! Kivri!Hij! Neibahri os bahnirich asuhl das!"

Caman only laughed louder.

"You may stay sober, Soril. We need to relocate now that the Brotherhood knows where we are. The risk of them finding out about Lucien is too high."

Sorilkad nodded in thought.

"No!"

Both mer looked up, seeing Lucien lean against the mantelpiece, twisting his Blade of Woe in his hands.

"I'm done hiding! I'm done running! It's time to end Bellamont's career in the Brotherhood. Permanently!"

"You have a plan?"

Caman asked. Lucien fixed the tall mer with his cold gaze.

"Not yet. But it's time for Marsius Tullius to arrive at Cheydinhal. I will go and tend to my … duties. I need to know what is going on in Cheydinhal."

Caman turned towards the Imperial, arms crossed over his chest.

"And what are we supposed to do?"

"You are both members of local guilds. Arrive in Cheydinhal on your own, we will meet there at midnight in two days. Until then I hope to have some informations."

Caman nodded approvingly.

"Sounds good. Best you ride now. I will follow in two hours and Soril in four. Where do you want us to meet up?"

Lucien thought for a moment.

"Do you know the abandoned house next to the chapel? Let us meet up behind that house, but stay away from the well."

Again the mer nodded, watching while the Imperial put his helmet back on.
Sorilkad's hand landed on his gauntlets however, before Lucien as able to grab them.
"What ever you do, stay clear of your Sanctuary. Wait for us. Catch up to the latest rumours, but don't go in there. We will think of something less dangerous together. Are we clear?"

Lucien squinted his eyes.

"What do you have in mind?"

A small smile graced the Dunmer's lips.

"Oh this old Necromancer may have a couple of tricks up his sleeves as well. Just wait for us."

Lucien gave him a sharp nod and turned to the door. Before he was able to get out however, Caman called out.

"Hey, Cyrodiil! Make sure, no one sees you!"

A smirk appeared on the assassin's lips.

"I can avoid being seen. Can you?"

Night fell early in Bruma and Olav's Tap and Tack was already full of it's regulars. Alval Uvani suppressed a yawn and emptied his last glass of wine. The same lowlife scum as always, all scattered over the dining room, some of them making suspicious deals. The Dunmer knew of at least one trader that accepted stolen goods being a regular here. Tired, Uvani rubbed over his eyes. At least it was warm in here, though the heat slowly lulled him to sleep. It was time for him to retire any ways. He was tired from his days journey and tomorrow he would make his way down to Leyawiin. A long way that required for him to leave early in the morning. Again he suppressed a yawn and stood up. Without another word he made a beeline to his rented room. Olav briefly met Uvani's solemn gaze but the publican had learned a long time ago not to speak to this Dunmeri merchant.
The key made a satisfying click in the lock and Alval was finally alone, locking the dull hum of the chatting crowd in the taproom out. Alval almost heaved a relieved sigh, he hated public places, he hated people in general and if not for the damn guards everywhere, he would blow everyone to smithereens who as much as said hello to him. His belt came off along with his dagger and landed on the small set of drawers next to him. His thoughts already turned towards Leyawiin and his duties that waited their. If everything went well enough, he would arrive there around midday of Sundas and hopefully find Alor waiting for him in his Sanctuary. And he hoped Alor had returned with the desired information.
Alval's shirt went flying and landed on the chair next to the bed. A shiver ran down his back, causing him to rub his upper arms. Slowly he turned around, a deep frown on his face, red eyes searching the room. Nothing out of the ordinary, everything was exactly how it should be. Yet, he was not shivering because of the cold outside. Olav never let his fire burn down, so the rooms stayed comfortably warm.

People say they get chills when a ghost is around.

He thought, sitting down on his bed. He paused a moment.

Lucien always used this superstition to announce his arrival...have you now come back to haunt me?

Alval shook his head, silent cursing himself, while unlacing his shoes.

Or maybe I'm just getting paranoid with my old age.

One shoe came off, soon followed by the other one.

No... not old age.

He corrected himself.

Something still isn't right in the family. I know it. And Ungolim is chasing ghosts instead of doing something useful. I wouldn't be surprised if that Verhane just was an informant of Lucien. As far as I know, he had one in every guild.

Another chill caused his hairs to stand on end and now he was feeling uncomfortable. Watched. Another look around the room, and yet nothing could be seen.

Speaking of ghosts...

He thought, and was about to rise and summon a life detecting spell. Something however slammed into his chest, forcing him down on the bed and knocking the wind out of his lungs. A black clad man revealed himself, sitting on Alval's chest and pinning the Dark Elf's arms down next to his body with his knees. With a dark growl, Alval tried to struggle, tried to wriggle his arms free, but the man had caught him off guard.

"Surprise, Speaker Uvani!"

An all too familiar voice whispered. Uvani opened his mouth for an angry reply but before he even got one word out a bottle was shoved deep into his mouth. Uvani's eyes widened in horror as he realized what was pouring down his throat. He tried to repress his reflexes, but as soon as the mead hit the back of his tongue his swallow reflex set in and his body disobeyed his will. Alval already felt his hands and feet go stiff, muscles locked in place by painful cramps. The younger man grinned evilly.

"How do you like your mead? Here. Have another bottle!"

Oh no no NO!

Alval screamed in his mind, as the second bottle emptied rapidly.

Too much!

His thighs locked up. Painful cramps riled up his insides. His arms locked up so tightly it almost popped his elbows, then his neck and jaw followed until his ability to move was gone completely. He stared up at the ceiling as paralysis reached his eyes. The man got down his chest chuckling, while the Dunmer tried to suck in air. Uvani's whole body hurt, his joints forced into unnatural angles by the painful spasms. Even his insides felt like they were set on fire. He could feel his heart race and stumble in his chest, while it got increasingly hard for him to breath. Saliva accumulated in his mouth and not being able to swallow right it threatened to drown him. His eyes burned.

"Not so smug anymore, hm, Uvani?"

He heard the assassin say.

That voice... I know that voice

Alval thought, but his panicked mind was not able to connect that voice to a fitting face. Rudely the man turned him over on his stomach, letting the saliva drain from his mouth. He gasped for air greedily. Again he was grabbed and pulled halfway out of the bed, his knees hitting the wooden floor hard enough to scrape them open. The man's hand trailed down his spine.

"You should have been nicer to me, Uvani."

Cold shivers of dark foreboding mixed with Alval's convulsions. Cold fingers hooked into the waistline of his pants and ripped them down in one bold move, exposing Alval's backside. His mind screamed and cursed in protest, yet his body was not his own any more. The mead had turned into poison inside of his system, causing painful seizures, Alval could not will away. Fabric rustled behind him, then a hard penis was shoved between his legs pressing against his own private parts uncomfortably.

"I would have simply sliced your throat."

The voice whispered into the mer's ear. The man rubbed himself against Alval, pressing his cock against the elf's entrance. Alval's stomach emptied, its content pooling beneath his face and sticking to his hair.

"But now I will have a little fun with you first. I always wondered how seizures felt from the inside."

Tears were now streaming out of Alval's eyes, while he vomited up bile. Smiling, Bellamont put his hands on Alval's shoulders.

"Too bad you can't scream. I love it when they scream."

He dug his fingernails into the Dunmer's back, pulling his hands down and leaving bloody marks all the way down to his bottom on each side of the spine. Bellamont wiped the blood away from Alval's back and coated his penis with a mixture of blood and spit, preparing himself to enter the other male.

"Prepare yourself. This will hurt."

Mathieu paused and Uvani could feel his hot breath on his neck and ear. Moments later, a sharp pain exploded in the tip of his delicately shaped ear, as Mathieu bit down hard on it. The Breton watched the crimson liquid run down the Dunmer's ear and cheek in excited delight. He bend down over the mer, rubbing himself against his backside in the process and licked the blood away from Alval's face. Again the elf's stomach cramped up painfully, his whole chest cramped up, making it even harder for him to breath. But Mathieu did not care about the mer's struggle. He entangled his fingers into the fiery hair and bend Uvani's head back in an uncomfortable angle.

"A lot."

He purred, rubbing more spit on his erection. He pressed it against the Dunmer, who desperately tried to conjure fire. But his agonized body was dying already. He could feel it. His vision got blurry and his lips had turned purple. With a bit of luck he would not have to endure this torture and humiliation long. Bellamont grabbed the mer's hip, steadying him, before positioning himself at the right angle. He was about to shove himself in completely as a sharp knock resounded from the door. Bellamont froze, looking at the door as if to will the person away. Had he been too loud and attracted the attention of the publican? His gaze turned towards the Dunmer again, who convulsed badly beneath him, breath turning shallow. Another knock and then a slight scratching noise.

"Fuck!"

Bellamont hissed, pulling his pants up in haste. The Dunmer slid from the bed and lay on the floor still twitching and eyes rolled back into his head.

"Looks like today is your lucky day."

Bellamont hissed and then was gone through the window. Alval Uvani did not hear those last words. Nothing mattered to him any more. The pain subsided and his twitching slowly stopped as life slipped from his body.

The ride from the cabin to Cheydinhal wasn't a long one, it took Lucien only about half an hour to arrive. Stabling his horse, he made his way over to the main gate. Passing through it he was greeted friendly by the guards. He gave them a courtesy nod and walked on with an uncomfortable feeling building up inside him. It felt strange coming to his hometown as a stranger.

Home...

He wasn't so sure, if Cheydinhal really was his home after all that had happened. He could as well be on a suicide mission.

Am I really doing the right thing? The Night Mother still trusts me to save our family, but …

He sighed. His family needed to be saved, that he was sure of. He just did not feel like a part of this family any longer. They had after all tried to kill him, and it was just through sheer luck, that he came out of it alive. He stopped in his tracks. He was so close. Just across the little bridge, a little further down the road. There it was. His Sanctuary. And yet he was isolated, forbidden to enter. Again, he thanked his Mother for sending Sorilkad and Caman. At least he wasn't alone.
It was with a heavy heart that he finally reached the Castle Guard Barracks. The Captain of the Guards looked up and gave him a friendly smile. A slight frown appeared on Lucien's face. That was not the same guy, he saw a couple of month back. This one was younger, blonde and blue eyed and most of all no Breton. The young Imperial noticed Lucien's frown.

"I bet you've expected to meet Ulrich Leland here."

The older Imperial nodded.

"Well, Leland got retired early."

Was all the information he gave him, yet Lucien knew that retired meant, they replaced him for taking hefty fines. He shrugged it off. To be honest he did not care about the dealings of the Guards. His interests were darker and bloodier. He pulled out his transfer papers and handed them over with a slight bow.

"Marsius Tullius, at your service."

He introduced himself. The man took the papers from his hands and skimmed through the page.

"Garrus Darelliun."

He put the papers aside.

"So you were the one transferred from the City."

Lucien nodded.

"Yes, Sir."

That caused the other man to smile.

"Please you don't need to be so formal. This is not the Legion. You will find it to be a lot calmer and quiet here in the country side."

He gave Lucien a good look over.

"Well then, Tullius. First we need to get you out of that old armour and into the one of the Guards. You'll find it in a chest upstairs. Meet me down here when you're done and ready for a tour."

Lucien had hoped to be alone in the sleeping quarters, but as he reached the top of the stairs he was greeted by two of his fellow guards.

"Ah. A new face!"

A rather young man exclaimed, while the other, a senior guard with already greying hair remained quiet. They briefly exchanged names, then Lucien turned his back towards them and started to remove his old clothes and armour, the other men turned back to their conversation as he started to strip naked. He put his belongings into the chest by the bed, luckily he had left his black robe in one of the saddlebags with Shadowmere.

"Woah!"

He heard the young Imperial call out behind him.

"What happened to you?"

Lucien looked back over his shoulder, seeing the soldier stand almost directly behind him, studying his scars.

"Clannfear? Dremora? Deadra?"

Lucien rolled his eyes, before turning towards the young man. He knew, that his back was littered with angry red lines from his recent encounter. But so was his front. The guard gawked him.

"No..."

He said, thinking of something plausible, while trailing the long scar running from his collarbone down his sternum and under his left pectoral, where Arquen had wanted to carve his heart out.

"Just a random band of bandits. Jumped me on my way to the Imperial City. Got me good, but I managed."

"Hn. Criminal scum."

The old soldier huffed from where he sat across the room. The young man briefly turned towards him, before it exploded out of him.

"Awww. I wish I could be in the City as well. It is so boring out here. I want to do great deeds. Have epic adventures."

Lucien sighed, putting his new helmet on, carefully stuffing his hair underneath it.

"Careful what you wish for."

The veteran guard stood up and put his hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Excuse him. It is his youth speaking."

The younger man drew breath but the old one held his hand up.

"You'll go out there, be on an adventure and then sooner or later you will get an arrow to the knee, just like me. And then you'll be back here."

Lucien chuckled lightly, while the young man raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"You've never got an arrow to the knee."

Lucien snorted and clapped the young man's shoulder, making his way to the staircase.

"He got married. Try to go on an adventure with a worried wife at home."

The assassin gave the old Imperial a thankful nod, before hurrying down the stairs. He wanted to have that tour over as soon as possible. There was nothing he could really learn from it though. This wasn't the first time, he posed as a city guard. He knew the basics, but he hoped to catch up on recent rumours.

"Ready for the tour?"

Lucien nodded and followed Garrus over to the castle. Silently he prayed, that they would not cross path with Count Indarys. He has had dealings with the Count in the past, especially concerning the abandoned house. But then again, the Count was of Dunmeri heritage and there was a chance that all Imperials looked the same to him. Especially the guards. They did not meet him however.
After a quick tour of the castle, they went out to Cheydinhal, where he was shown around. Lucien faked interest in the various buildings. Past the Corbolo river over the small bridge, past the Chapel of Arcay and the abandoned house, before passing the river again. They crossed a little plaza with the Guild halls until they reached the main gate, where they agreed to head back.

"Now only the Dungeon is missing."

Garrus commented, while slowly walking through the streets. As they did a tall Altmer with flaming red hair came walking out of the Newlands Lodge and pushed past Lucien nearly knocking him over.

"N'chow! Doldi el! S'wit!"

He growled at the Imperial, before sauntering down the street.

"Homullus ex argilla et luto fictus!"

Lucien hissed through clenched teeth, but Garrus put his hand on his shoulder.

"Easy now. That guy's with the Fighters Guild. Always causing trouble, but usually doesn't stay long. They keep him busy most of the time. Just don't let yourself be provoked."

Lucien nodded and the returned to the barracks without another incident. The Dungeon could be entered right through the barracks, which they did. Lucien was shortly introduced to the jailor before they headed down to the cells. Most of the cells were empty except for two. In one a wealthy looking Breton man sat on his bed, but it was the other that caught Lucien's attention. He cocked his head to the side and stepped up to the heavy iron door.

"I thought this here was a quiet town,"

He said, causing the prisoner to look up.

"The prison seems rather full."

A sad smile appeared on Garrus face,

"Well. I told you, that we had to "retire" our former captain."

Lucien nodded, though his eyes were still fixed on the naked man chained to the wall so tightly, he was barely able to stand. Pale sunken in eyes, with large black circles beneath. His face and whole body looked haggard, shaggy hair hung in front of his face and his body was covered in sores and bruises.

"And this one? Any reason why he is not given a pair of pants at least?"

There was a long pause, but when Garrus spoke again, his voice was low and left no room for any further questions.

"That is a very dangerous man. It is for ours and his safety that he has no clothes. But he is not of your concern. And now come. You had a long day, I'm sure you want to rest now."

With that the blond Imperial turned and headed up the small hallway. Lucien lingered back, looking into the cell again. His brown eyes met hungry and very angry ones. Fangs bared in an angry snarl. Starved and weak and yet he was growling at the Imperial, an unspoken warning not to come any closer.

"Soon brother."

Lucien whispered, only loud enough for Vicente to hear and left, quickly following his superior.
The growl died down in Vicente's throat and his head sunk back down on his chest. His throat was sore already and his constant hunger gnawed on his insides. Time had lost all meaning to him. Was he in here month or years now? He did not know. The count had ordered the guards to feed him once in a while, but only enough for him to stay alive. And then they would come to interrogate him again, asking the same questions over and over. He had just shut down. If only he could die. How long would they keep it up? This was more than only bodily torture. Indarys wanted to break him. And Vicente wasn't so sure, he could withstand the count's methods for long.

Soon brother.

Those words echoed in his minds. Those words, the voice. It sounded all too familiar. But Vicente knew this could not be.

I am going crazy.

He thought.

I am losing my mind. Start seeing things. This guard... no... it's just my mind playing tricks.

Vicente heaved another heavy sigh, retreating into the comfort of his memories.

Night fell and Fredas turned to Loredas when Banus Alor finally arrived in Bruma and went straight to Olav's Tap and Tack. It was shortly after midnight and the Dunmeri Silencer was surprised to see how many people were still out and about. But of course it was weekend and many used the day to drink and gossip before their work life returned on Morndas. If he had a normal job, he would do the same. Smiling he turned and made his way down to the separate room. He hadn't seen Uvani in the bar room so he assumed his Speaker already retired. Behind him, the chitchat of the customers still buzzed in his ear, they did not even have the slightest idea who or what was in their tavern with them. He took a deep breath. Still he felt like he had fail his Speaker miserably. With another deep calming breath he gathered the courage to knock on the door. No answer. Was Uvani already asleep? He knocked again and received no answer again. But just as he was about to turn away, his sensitive elven ears picked up sounds coming from the room. Movement, and something that sounded like wheezing. A frown appeared on his face. Something wasn't right. He could feel it. A moment of hesitation, then he pulled out his lock pics and started to open the door. It took him a moment, in which more concerning noises came from the room. A dull thud and someone cursing under his breath. And then the lock clicked and the door opened. It was then, Banus realised, that he hadn't had a weapon any more, but Uvani had made sure, his assassins all had some basic knowledge in destructive magic. With his hands aflame he charged in, yet the magic died away instantly at the scene in front of his eyes. There was a huge deep red stain on the bed, more red on the floor and his Speaker laying naked and lifeless on the ground. Alor quickly closed the door and knelt by Uvani's side. He scanned his body for wounds, but found only a couple of scratches on his back. Nothing that would explain the stain of red on the bed. He touched the liquid with his fingers. Not the consistence of blood, and not the smell either. It smelled sour. And then it clicked. He bend down to Uvani again, touching to fingers to his neck. He was still warm and there was a pulse. Faint and very rapid, but still there.

Poison!

It shot thought his head.

He has been poisoned!

Frantically he searched his little travelling bag. Out of habit he always carried healing potions with him.

I'm too late...I'm too late

He thought again and again, while forcing Uvani's mouth open and a cure poison potion down his throat.

Please don't throw up... please...

The young Dunmer put his ear to Uvani's chest, listening intently. There a heartbeat. And another. And a shallow breath. He was fighting. Alor pressed his palms against his eyes, feeling absolutely helpless. He had lost most of his family as a young boy. He saw his father die, succumbing to a disease that ate at his insides. When he got into the Brotherhood, he was happy to have a new family with a lot of new brothers and sisters. And someone he looked up to like to a father. He would not let him die this time. He grabbed Uvani under his arms and pushed him up into a sitting position, before he sat down behind his Speaker. He circled the arms around Uvani's chest, keeping a secure hold on him.

What has happened here?

The young Silencer asked himself, looking around again. Part of Uvani's clothes was on a chair, but his pants were still around his ankles. And those scratches on his back, a bite mark on his ear...

Dear Sithis! Was he forced upon?

It came to his mind like a slap in his face. He wasn't even aware that his eyes started watering, as there was only one prominent thought in his head.

I failed. Everyone.

He buried his face in Uvani's hair, shutting the world out.

Uvani only very slowly got aware of his surroundings. His body still burned and ached, his throat still felt constricted, but he could breathe. He lay still a moment, his eyes closed and just let the warmth from behind seep into his cold body.

Warmth?

He asked himself. There was something warm and soft behind him, pressing against his burning back. With surprise he opened his eyes. Or at least he tried to open them, but was only able to crack them open a little. Most of his muscles still would not obey his will. He sat on the floor, with a set of legs on each side of his own. For a moment panic flooded him, thinking Bellamont was still having his way with him. But these legs would not fit. They were too long to belong to Bellamont. His gaze wandered down. A pair of arms circled his chest, like he was a giant doll. The exposed skin on these arms was of a dark blue tone. It was then, he got aware of being rocked back and forth very gently, while softly being spoken to. He wanted to protest, wanted to wriggle free, but was only able to draw a shaky breath in. He turned his head slightly, getting aware that it rested against the other males chin. Again his first instinct was to protest and to scold the other man. He hated being so close to another being, but the warmth and rhythmic movement lulled his exhausted body back to sleep.
It took him another half an hour to finally wake up and actually being able to move. He moaned groggily, trying to set up, but the embrace he was in only tightened.

"Speaker Uvani?"

He heard the soft voice of Banus Alor next to him. He nodded, not yet strong enough to produce words. Silently Alval cursed his damn allergy to honey. This would nearly have killed him. One arm disappeared, rummaging around somewhere of to his side. Then a small green flask was pressed against his lips.

"Here. Please drink this. It will make you feel better."

A small pause.

"It's a cure poison potion."

Alval obeyed, swallowing the bitter tasting liquid, but as he did, he could feel his body relax and strength return back to his limps. A few minutes later he was able to sit on his own. Banus disappeared from behind him, standing next to the door, half turned away, to give his Speaker a little space. Uvani ran his hands over his face.

I need a bath...

He thought, carefully standing up on still shaky, sore legs and pulled his pants up. He turned towards his Silencer, who seemed pretty shaken up by himself.

Has he fought with Bellamont?

Uvani tried to get the events back together, but his memory was getting foggy from the moment Bellamont had bitten him.

"Alor, what are you doing here?"

The young Dunmer looked at the ground, shrugging helplessly.

"I...I thought you wanted..."

Alor stammered, his gaze flickering over to the red stain on the bed, then back to his Speaker and to the ground again. Uvani's trademark scowl had already returned to his face, making Banus feel a lot more uncomfortable than he already was. Uvani sighed, filling a bowl with water and heating it with magic.

"That's wine. Go on."

He said, before starting to wash his face off. His ear stung, but at least there was nothing missing. Bruised and bloody, but that'll heal. Banus scratched the back of his head.

"I followed Verhane to his home."

Uvani straightened a little, watching his Silencer closely.

He's hiding something.

He thought but said.

"Good. What did you find out?"

Banus sighed.

"Not much. He lives in a cottage on the Blue Road."

Again, Uvani turned, rubbing his chest dry.

"That's all? Come on Alor. Do I really have to tear every answer out of you?"

Alor shook his head.

"He... is working with a Dunmer Necromancer and an Imperial Legion Soldier."

"What?"

Uvani turned in surprise, getting a glimpse of Alor's gaze flickering away from him in shame.

"Alor! Dammit! Spit it out already!"

The young Dunmer cringed and took a deep breath.

"I was... They caught me. I really thought I wouldn't make it. But at least I got a good glance on them. Verhane. Tall guy with red hair and definitely a warrior. He was able to lift me off my feet completely. The Dunmer is typical Ashlander. Have of his head shaved, long black hair."

The frown on Uvani's face deepened.

"And red face markings?"

Alor nodded, a surprised look on his face.

"Yes. How do you know?"

Alval shrugged.

"I think I have seen him before. In Leyawiin. He's part of the Mage's Guild. Can't remember his name though."

"Mage's guild? That man is a Necromancer. He even threatened to use his magic on me. He was creepy, let me tell you."

Uvani nodded, putting his shirt back on.

"And the soldier?"

Alor did not answer, which caused the Speaker to turn. His Silencer looked at the ground, hands twisting in front of him. Uvani's frown deepened even more.

"He..."

Alor started, remembering the cold stare that seemed to look right into his soul.

"I don't know what is up with the soldier, but he was the most creepy of them. He had intense eyes and I think he read my mind."

The older mer crossed his arms over his chest.

"How come?"

Alor shrugged.

"He looked at me and knew I was an assassin. And he knew I was sent for information only."

Again the young Dunmer paused.

"His name is Tullius. A middle-aged man, with a prominent scar on his face."

Uvani shook his head, that did not ring a bell. Not at all. And again he had to wonder, what kind of friends Lachance had.

"He had a message for you."

Alval's head snapped up.

"He said, that Verhane was under the Empire's protection and that you should stop investigating or he would tip off Phillida."

The older elf growled.

"Phillida! That doesn't make any sense. Why should Lachance work with Phillida?"

"Because he was the traitor?"

Alor provided at what Uvani scoffed. Alor's gaze travelled to the ground again, like a kid awaiting a mouth full.

"Speaker Uvani. I can understand you may want to replace me now."

That came out of nowhere and stopped Uvani's train of thoughts. He turned, his eyebrows raised in question.

"And why should I?"

Banus shoulders slumped.

"Because I failed. I've got myself captured and nearly killed ...and I lost my dagger."

The Speaker heaved a sigh and pointed to a chair.

"Sit!"

Banus obeyed, folding his hands in his lab and looking to the ground as if he waited for his execution. Alval Uvani looked long at his Silencer.

Maybe I was wrong about him after all.

He thought while he was reminded of another young Dunmer.

"You did not fail me, Banus."

Banus head snapped up and he opened his mouth but was stopped by Alval who held up his hands.

"No buts Alor! You did what I asked you for. You gathered information and even a good description of those men. A dagger can be replaced, a good Silencer is harder to come by."

He paused, tilting his head to the side. Alor looked miserable in his presence, when he actually should be proud of himself. Slowly he walked over and put his hand on the young mer's shoulder.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Banus."

The elf looked up and met his Speaker's gaze.

"Your quick thinking and initiative saved my life."

Banus Alor nodded slightly, his gaze wandering over to the red stain.

"I thought you were dead. And I nearly walked away, but heard something … suspicious."

He paused, pressing his eyes shut for a moment, again having the picture of a lifeless Uvani in front of his inner eyes. Without thinking he jumped up and hugged the older elf tightly.

"You are like a father to me. To our Sanctuary. A very strict father, but...if I had been here in time, he wouldn't have done... things to you...I'm..."

His words died down in his throat, as he felt his back patted by a warm hand.

"It's alright Banus. Would you calm down already!"

Banus nodded, hastily letting go of his Speaker.

"You... you were poisoned... and forced..."

He said after a long moment of awkward silence. Uvani nodded.

"I was. And no he didn't force himself on me! But now I know the traitor's true identity!"

Interest sparked in the eyes of the young Dunmer, while Uvani fastened his belt around his hips.

"Come on Alor! We are going to Cheydinhal. NOW!"

Alor turned.

"We? Why?"

"The traitor is in Cheydinhal!"

Alval held his hands out to his side, finally letting his anger flow freely. Angry blue flames appeared in the palms of his hands as he growled.

"I'll rip his face clean off and hang it on my wall as a trophy. That little bastard!"

Banus took a step back at the sudden outburst of his Speaker.

"What if he waits for you?"

Alval huffed, the flames slowly dying.

"Unlikely! He thinks I'm dead. And now he will suffer. This time, I can fight back. And I will kill him!"

Moments later, two dark figures crept through Bruma's silent streets and out of the main gate. Cheydinhal wasn't far, Bellamont wasn't safe.