Chapter CXX – Silence
"It all made sense to me."
A deep-voiced scoff reverberated in Bishop's ears. It was all a bit muffled though.
His head was throbbing in pain and his shoulder was stinging and burning. He wasn't even sure how he did that, but he forced himself not to move an inch. There were people there, clearly talking while he was supposed to be unconscious. If he let them know that he was slowly rousing, they would stop. It was quite a challenge though. He had an uncontrollable urge to squirm away from the pain. And after a second, he realized that his eyes were open, but he still couldn't see a thing. It took a bit before he realized that there was a sac on his head. Well… at least they wouldn't notice his eyes involuntarily fluttering open or closed. He just had to keep the rest of his body still as well.
"Have you heard that Orc screech? I'm surprised there are no contracts on him yet. Who wouldn't want to get away from that?" The voice spoke again. Bishop recognized that grey-haired lummox of a Nord. The one that Karnwyr had been so riled up about in Dawnstar. Now it didn't feel like such a mystery. A vampire or a werewolf. Or maybe something else. But definitely something dangerous.
"I know," Gabriella's familiar voice rang through wherever they were.
Where were they? Bishop could only feel cold stone under his lying body with some pebbles and grovel making it even more uncomfortable and even harder not to move. There seemed to be a draft there of cold wind. A cave? Or maybe a very neglected house with all that shit on the floor.
"I'm not saying it didn't make sense," the Dunmer let out a sigh. "Everything made sense. It's just… it was all very… convenient. Like he made it too easy."
Fuck. Had she figured it out? Did they know they were being followed? Aeyrin and the agents were probably hiding outside, wherever they were, waiting for Bishop's signal.
"'Easy'? We've been planning this for days. He's been much more trouble than the rest," another voice scoffed. Female. Most likely the green-eyed one, if Bishop remembered the voice well.
"Exactly. Now he just stays in Morthal with… odd regularity to the things he does. It's… not like him." He could practically hear Gabriella's suspicious scowl in those words. Fuck, this wasn't good. Should he crush the ring now and have the cavalry come to rescue him? No… that would be a waste. He hadn't learned anything yet. And she was still not sure, at least.
"What? One fuck and you think you know him?" The Nord man chuckled at her mockingly.
"That's not it," Gabriella scoffed in response. "It just… felt different."
It must have. He was giving them opportunities like he never had before. Not lately, at least. This talk was getting him worried. If they believed that this was a trap, who knew what they would do to him? His only comfort was the people outside, waiting for his signal.
"Mother provides," a different voice spoke. Jarringly high-pitched. It even sounded erratic. Bishop had never heard it before. "Mother calls her children to her. They can't resist the pull. The others weren't the right ones. Nobody heard. Nobody was chosen by the Mother."
What. The. Fuck?
What the fuck was that squeaky guy talking about? What 'mother'? 'Chosen'? The fuck did all that mean?
"This is the last time we're doing this, you insane creep," the green-eyed woman hissed through gritted teeth. "It's always the same. Nobody ever hears that shriveled up corpse."
"Blasphemy!" the jarring voice squeaked in indignation.
"I don't like this any more than you do, Astrid," Gabriella sighed. Good. Another name. Astrid. That was the green-eyed woman, probably. "He's been too much trouble to be worth this," she growled as she continued. Poor Gabriella. She was really peeved with Bishop, it was obvious. "But if we could really find the Listener…"
What? The 'listener'? What the fuck were they all talking about? This made no sense.
"We don't need a Listener," likely-Astrid sneered. "We never needed them. Relics of the past. I'm just doing this to shut this idiot up."
"Cicero thinks our dear Astrid is just feeling threatened," the jarring voice scoffed at her. Who the fuck was Cicero now? Was the high-pitched voice talking about… himself? He called himself by his own name instead of just saying 'I'? Weird. Or maybe he was talking about someone else, but the former option made more sense to Bishop in the context. "The Brotherhood needs to keep looking. Any new potential could be chosen. Remember the words. Darkness rises when silence dies. Darkness rises when silence dies. Glorious rebirth of our ancient ways will come when Mother speaks again." He sounded in awe. Almost reverent. What did it mean? 'Darkness rises when silence dies'? Bishop wouldn't have thought twice about those words amongst the freak's weird blubbering about mothers and shit, but he said those words so… meaningfully. Like it was supposed to convey some message.
"Just shut up already, little creep. I'm sick of this too," the Nord man growled again. "We have real work to do."
"I doubt that he's the one anyway," Gabriella scoffed. 'The one' what? That… listener thing? What the fuck did that mean? Bishop was so fucking confused. And he still had to try so fucking hard not to squirm on the ground. He couldn't move. He was finally learning stuff. Even though he didn't understand it. Maybe Maro would.
"He is skilled," the jarring voice spoke again. "Cicero can feel it. He's got potential. Escaped the Brothers and Sisters so many times."
"It was always a stupid coincidence," Gabriella barked with a defensive tone in her voice. "I just didn't want the guards at my back for something this pointless."
They seemed to be arguing about this 'listener' thing a lot. Bishop still didn't understand what it all meant, but it was kind of reassuring to hear these fuckers fight amongst themselves.
"Let's just get this over with," the Nord man growled. "He won't hear the corpse speak anyway. Then we can finally kill him."
WHAT?!
Fuck, what?! They were going to kill him. Shit. Should he signal now? But… what the fuck was this about the 'corpse'? Why would he hear a corpse speak? Well… if it was reanimated, he could hear it grunt and shit, but not really speak all that much. Was this what the 'listener' meant? Hearing corpses talk? What were corpses supposed to say?
He was really tempted to crush that ring now. But any movement would alert them and then he wouldn't learn more.
Maybe there was still more to hear while he pretended to remain unconscious. It was convenient that they didn't suspect this. But then again, anyone in his place would have panicked and thrashed the second they woke up, try to escape. Anyone that wasn't prepared for this.
Anyone without a fallback plan.
…
Aeyrin's head was swirling. She felt like she was on a boat on a stormy sea.
That wasn't a good memory. Stormy seas were something she would definitely like to avoid in the future. But now she was uncertain where she actually was. She didn't remember much.
It was hard to think. Strange dreams kept popping up in her head, but none of them were really vivid. Everything felt surrounded by a fog.
She finally managed to concentrate a little. She felt cold water around her bare body. For a moment, she panicked that she actually was in the sea. But then she remembered. The bath. She was in the bath and then she felt so tired. Damn, did she doze off?
She could smell a faint hint of mountain flowers in the air and she remembered the pleasant incense. Though the way she remembered it, it was much more intense before. How long had she been like this?
The next thing she noticed were the noises. Some shuffling and some annoyed murmuring. Was that a person?
It was hard. For some reason, she still felt very tired. But curiosity got the better of her and she managed to open her eyes. It took a while before her vision cleared, but when it did, she instantly let out an instinctive scream.
There was a man. Not just any man – the Orcish 'bard'. And he was getting naked in the corner of the room. What in the Void was he doing?!
She quickly covered herself with her hands as much as she could when he turned his gaze on her after the loud scream. He just looked kind of exasperated. But when he opened his mouth to speak, with his shirt already off, she promptly interrupted him.
"Get out!" she yelped. Why would he not at least rouse her up when he came in, if he wanted a bath? Was he going to join her in the tub? Creep!
"Pfft, this is a public…" the Orc gave her a defensive stare, but before he could say anything more, she interrupted him again with a shrill screech.
"OUT!"
She couldn't help it. It was definitely a shocking wake-up. And the idea that he was going to actually bathe with her sleeping in the tub made her queasy. Who knew what else he was planning to do?
The Orc scowled and he looked like he would argue, but before he could, the door swung open sharply.
"What's with the screaming?" the Redguard innkeeper, Jonna, Falion's sister, shot them both a startled look as she appeared at the door.
"I was just…" the Orc started to speak, but once more, he got interrupted. It must have been frustrating.
"Out. Wait your turn," Jonna scowled at him fiercely.
At last the Orc didn't protest. He mumbled a few curses to himself, but he did grab his discarded clothes and walked out of the door. Finally!
"Sorry about that, he should know better than to not wait his turn," Jonna sighed. "Though it is a bit later than he usually comes here. He's an early bird."
"I… I must have dozed off," Aeyrin looked around again in slight confusion. Did Jonna just say 'early'? "How long was I in here?"
"Hmm," Jonna pondered a while as she moved over to one of the cupboards and fished out a fresh towel for Aeyrin. "Sorry, I only saw you come here last night. I don't know when you got here today. I haven't even had the chance to warm up the water yet. Lurbuk likes it cold to wake up properly. I often tell him to go jump into the swamp instead," she chuckled, but Aeyrin couldn't really find the humor in that. She was instead shocked by the first part of what Jonna had said.
"L-last night?" she could feel cold chills envelop her spine and not just from the water. It was probably pointless to ask – the answer was 'too late' regardless, but the words still flew out of her mouth. "What time is it?"
"Around five in the morning," Jonna shrugged as she handed Aeyrin the towel. "I only just got up to start baking for breakfast. I'll be making some lavender dumplings. You like those, right? I… what's that smell?"
"Five…" Aeyrin gasped incredulously as she stood up in the tub. She only absentmindedly pressed the towel to her body. "I… how is that…" That wasn't possible. It was barely nighttime when she came here. She slept through the whole time?
"What's this?" Jonna tore her attention away from her panic briefly as she pointed to the incense on the cupboard.
"The… the incense you put here," Aeyrin wasn't even sure if she said those words aloud. Everything was swirling again. So many hours. Gods. Where was Bishop?
"I didn't put any incense here," Jonna scowled.
She didn't? That wasn't important right now, she… she didn't. Then who did? What was that scent?
Divines. Did the assassins do this? Was that some sort of concoction that would put her to sleep?!
"Oh Gods," Aeyrin gasped again as she hurriedly wiped her body off with the towel and tossed it away onto the floor. "I have to… have you seen Bishop?" If he was here, he would have found her in the bathing room and woken her up. He wasn't here. The Brotherhood had sprung their plan into action and she was oblivious for so long. All their plans, all the carefulness, their perfect trap, it was for nothing!
"'Bishop'? Your man?" Jonna asked as she pondered again. "Not since yesterday, I think. When you two were having dinner."
Gods. It was true. She needed to get out of there. She needed to rally the agents this instant! She frantically checked the soul gem ring on her finger, but it was still glowing. That calmed her down a little bit, but not enough. It'd been so long. He could be anywhere. The plan was to wait wherever he was so that they could rescue him quickly when he signaled. But now… what if she was too late when he did?
"No. Shit. I need to…" she didn't even finish the sentence as she rushed towards the door, but Jonna quickly stopped her, calling after her.
"Hey! You wanna maybe get dressed before you leave here?" there was a hint of chuckle in her voice, but she did have a worried crease between her brows.
Right. Clothes. Aeyrin walked back to her splayed clothes hurriedly. They were already dry – only a testament to how long she had been here. Maybe even that Orc tried to wake her a while ago and couldn't – that was why he decided to bathe anyway.
Aeyrin was dressed in record speed and she quickly left the bathing room. She only stopped very briefly in their room to pick up both their packs, but she didn't bother putting her armor on. There was no time.
She ran out of the inn as fast as she could and she instantly scanned the surroundings. Fortunately, it didn't take her long before she noticed a man in Legion armor nearby.
She ran over to him, panic in her eyes. He only had to take one look at her and he tensed.
"Is he gone?" the man asked somberly.
"Yes. For hours!" Aeyrin spoke quickly in panic. "They… they must have done something to… to put me to sleep. Didn't you wonder where we were?!" The men were supposed to be vigilant too!
"We saw you in the evening," the agent sighed. "You're generally at the inn through the night, what were we supposed to expect?"
He was right. It must have all looked so completely normal.
"What about the ring?" the agent asked. He didn't have one on his own – only the leader of the small unit here had the third one from Maro.
"It's still glowing," Aeyrin nodded.
"Good. Then we're not too late," the man gave her a small, encouraging smile. "We'll find him soon. We have horses so we'll be quick. Come."
Good. This was good. The plan could still work. Gods, please, let him be alright.
She kept frantically checking the ring as she followed the man, but it still glowed brightly.
There was still hope.
…
Alright. He needed to recap what he had learned.
The only reason why Bishop, as a potential Brotherhood recruit, hadn't been killed yet for resisting, was because these nutcases were looking for some 'Listener'. 'Listener' that was supposed to hear corpses talk, for some fucking insane reason, as if that was possible.
And once they learned that he couldn't hear corpses talk, they would just get rid of him. For good. Possibly very painfully for all the trouble he had caused.
There must have been other 'potentials' that they had tested out like this. They mentioned that. It could explain why sometimes, the Brotherhood didn't seem that concerned with finding him. Like in Solitude or while he was fixing up the cottage. Those were long periods of time when he stayed in one place. Maybe they were busy chasing after another poor sod. One that would be their precious 'Listener' and would give them no more reason to hunt Bishop. If only.
But now he needed to do something. The assassins had been silent for the past few minutes and he was getting increasingly worried. What if he agreed to join now? Would they not kill him then? Or were they already decided? Gabriella certainly seemed to be looking forward to killing him at least. And why would they ever trust him now? After all that? And especially when they had some suspicions about his 'regular schedule' in Morthal.
Well, he still had the ring. He still had his backup. If they tried anything, he would act instantly and so would Aeyrin and their current allies.
Fuck, he just hoped that Aeyrin was alright. They said that they had been planning Bishop's abduction for a while. He worried that they may have had a way to prevent her from interfering. But surely, if she was in danger, she would have crushed the ring as well. If only he could see it. The bag on his head was fucking annoying.
But he had to stay calm. She was alright – she had to be. He just needed to learn as much as he could. And then his princess would come springing to his rescue.
But there was only more silence. Excruciating silence. It was making him anxious. Why weren't they talking anymore?
Bishop couldn't stand it any longer. The pebbles on the ground dug into his skin and his head still throbbed. But the worst of all was the shoulder. That stinging pain and his blood-soaked shirt sticking to his skin.
It was too much when everything was so quiet. He was forced to concentrate on nothing but the discomfort of his body and the lack of air coming to his lungs through that thick sac. Despite all his efforts, he flinched.
He heard some shuffling behind his back. There was no more pretending. If he tried to 'play dead' now, they could suspect that he had been doing that the entire time.
He let out a loud groan. For some reason, it felt like it helped relieve some of the discomfort.
The assassins still didn't speak, but the next moment, he felt hands on his shoulders again.
Fuck you, assholes! Stop fucking grabbing me by that shoulder!
Bishop let out a pained grunt as he was roughly dragged up from the ground and propped up into a sitting position. At least he was off the ground, but his shoulder burned and hurt like crazy. Though his arms weren't bound and the pain slowly got a bit more manageable when the hands finally stopped touching him.
Next, the sac got finally yanked from his head. It took his eyes a while to adjust, though there wasn't much to adjust too. Wherever he was, it was dark. Almost entirely black. Save for one burning candle by a… was that a sarcophagus?
He looked around, trying to gouge his surroundings. It looked like some small cave. There was nothing inside. Only the coffin and the candle. The sarcophagus looked huge and heavy and he noticed barely perceptible tracks on the ground below the candle – as if someone had dragged this large thing inside the cave recently. Well… they probably had. Whatever this shit was, they likely didn't take him to their main base. That would have been so stupid.
He looked behind his shoulder uncertainly. Four people were in there. Gabriella, not even bothering with hiding her face, and those two assassins he had seen before – the Nord man and the green-eyed woman. The last person was a very small Imperial man. He wasn't dressed like the rest of them. He had a weird jester outfit, with hat and everything. What the fuck was that?
They all just looked at him. Silent. None of them said a word. What the fuck did they want? They looked like they were waiting for something. Only the creepy jester wasn't looking at Bishop. He was staring at the sarcophagus the entire time.
It took a while of terrifying silence before the jester stepped forward. Bishop flinched instantly when the man approached, but the Imperial didn't even spare him a glance.
He walked over to the sarcophagus and with a strange flourish, he opened it wide.
It wasn't really surprising. There was a corpse there. Shriveled and disgusting. It looked very old. Not even like a rotting corpse before the meat fell off. It looked… preserved in that dried up state. That was fucking disturbing. Bishop was used to seeing draugr like this, but for some reason, this just felt… creepier. Much creepier. There was something about that corpse that just unsettled him.
There was still silence. Nobody spoke, but now, all of them were staring at him in anticipation.
What the fuck was supposed to happen?!
Bishop let out a frustrated huff. He wanted to talk to the assassins and ask them what the fuck was going on, but he stopped himself within a second. Something broke the silence.
"What? Who…?" He looked around sharply, trying to find something in confusion. He didn't even know what he was looking for, where he should be searching.
But the assassins all gasped in shock.
"Oooh!" the jester made an exaggerated noise before he clapped his hands together with excitement. "Cicero knew! He knew! Tell us the sweet songs of death that Mother sings! Tell us the words and tell us the names that she whispers into the darkness for the one that hears." He was practically hopping on the spot in euphoria.
Cicero instantly knew that Bishop heard the voice of the corpse.
But he didn't hear shit.
There was only silence.
It was a fucking corpse! It didn't speak! What the fuck were they expecting? They were insane. Fucking insane, all of them. But Bishop knew what he had to do. They said that they would kill him if he didn't hear the corpse speak, so he pretended to hear it, to be shocked by a sudden voice coming from none of the assassins.
"Stop blubbering," Gabriella scowled at the jester before she looked at Bishop with both astonishment and doubt in her eyes. "What did the Mother say?"
"What the… what mother? What the fuck is happening?" Bishop growled as he turned his head towards the sarcophagus again, pretending to hear it speak once more. He did have to think about what to say that this 'mother' talked about. This was clearly no ordinary corpse.
They called themselves 'brothers and sisters' and they kept calling that corpse 'mother'. Fitting. This 'family' seemed even crazier than his own. But that gave him some hints. Maybe the corpse was… in charge? Was it supposed to give them instructions on their job?
That insane clown said something about 'names'. Was she supposed to say a name of a target? Or of someone who would give them a contract?
Fuck. This was bad. He had to think of a name to give them. And there was a chance that they would assassinate that person. Or… they would talk to that person and find out that Bishop had lied to them. Was it bad that he was hoping for the first option?
"Tell us what you heard," Gabriella scowled at him impatiently.
Alright. This was it. A name. If they were to kill this person, they had to be someone who would fucking deserve to die by these creeps. And if they were to talk to them, it had to be someone they would believe would call for their services. Bishop only knew that people like Maven Black-Briar liked to hire the Brotherhood. But he definitely didn't want her dead. He had done enough to the woman when he killed her wretched son.
"I… it keeps saying…" Bishops stammered, still feigning confusion. "Thongvor Silver-Blood."
That was believable, right? Thongvor was definitely that kind of a person who would hire the Brotherhood. And he deserved to fucking die.
The three assassins looked at each other in surprise, as if they didn't actually expect Bishop to hear the corpse, even now. Well, he couldn't really blame them. But then, Cicero's jarring voice interrupted the quiet with an upset screech.
"No. No, no, no, no, no, no," he sneered at Bishop viciously. Fuck, that creep looked scary. Kind of deranged. "Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong."
'Wrong'? Fuck. Did he fuck up already? Should he crush the ring now? How would they know that he was making it up?
"The Binding Words," Cicero looked like he was reprimanding him. "The words. Remember the words she says. Mother," he turned towards the corpse. "Sweet mother, speak to him. Tell him!"
'Binding Words'? What the fuck was that? What was he supposed to say? It was like some password, right? How the fuck was he supposed to make that up?
He kept thinking about what the assassins had said when he was feigning unconsciousness, but he kept coming up short. He didn't know what to do. He didn't remember any…
Oh!
'Remember the words. Darkness rises when silence dies. Darkness rises when silence dies. Glorious rebirth of our ancient ways will come when Mother speaks again.'
Cicero's recent words rang in his head jarringly. But… could that be it? Could he be so lucky? Could Cicero really be so stupid to say them out loud, even if he thought Bishop to be out of it? Well… he was really chatty about all this shit. If he had been silent, Bishop wouldn't have figured any of this out. The other assassins were much more subtle.
Alright. Here goes nothing. If this goes tits up, he needed to act fast. He placed his hand to the ground preemptively, ready to crush the gem of the ring within a second. At least none of the assassins had their weapons out now, but that could change quickly.
"Uhm… darkness… darkness rises when silence dies?" Bishop looked at Cicero uncertainly. The man only stared at him with his mouth ajar.
There was silence again. Excruciating, terrifying silence.
It felt like so long before Astrid broke it.
"Is that for real?" she scoffed. She sounded very upset, but her fierce scowl couldn't erase the sudden expression of exuberance on Cicero's face.
"Remarkable," Gabriella gasped. She looked so much less angry now. That was comforting. "Perhaps this really could be the return to our glory days."
Like fuck it will, crazy bitch.
"Yes! Yes!" Cicero clapped again and hopped on the spot. "Those words! Those sweet, sweet words! Mother has spoken to Cicero at last! Mother sends her eternal love through her new Listener!"
Great, the corpse loves you. Good for you, you fucking creep.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Cicero!" Astrid barked at him, eliciting an incredulous gasp from the jester. That didn't sound good for Bishop. "This could still be a trick. He knew we were after him and the secrets of the old Cyrodiil chapters had been in the wrong hands for too long."
Was she talking about Maro and his ransacking of the Brotherhood down south? They knew about it?
"But… the Binding Words!" Cicero huffed defensively.
"Were the same for centuries without a new Listener," Gabriella sighed. She looked really disappointed by the possibility of all this being fake.
"But…" Cicero looked like he wanted to protest, but Astrid raised her hand promptly to shut him up.
"This is not how we do things now," she scowled at the jester. "We don't rely on some ancient ritual. On someone telling us that 'only they can hear this shit'. We have our own means, our new ways."
That didn't bode well. They were going to verify if Bishop was telling the truth. He was dreading these 'new ways' and whatever they would entail.
Astrid turned to the other two assassins then with a determined nod. "Come. We will verify the Silver-Blood. Cicero can stay here and guard his new… toy," she scoffed at Bishop.
Alright. They were leaving. Most of them at least. This was good. They would definitely verify that Bishop had been lying the entire time. They would kill him once they found out.
If there was ever a time when it was over, it was now.
There was silence as the assassins left the cavern, leaving Bishop alone with a very enthusiastic creep who was just staring at him with wonder in his eyes.
Some of the agents outside would likely follow the assassins wherever they went, but he would still have enough backup for one man, he assumed.
Once he was sure that the assassins were far gone, he finally acted.
As subtly as he could, he pressed his fist against the ground until he felt the ring on his finger crunch. He only moved his hand slightly to verify that it was indeed extinguished.
In a matter of seconds, the cavalry would be there to get him out of this place.
…
Aeyrin clung to the man's armor, worried that she would fall off the horse at any second.
It didn't help that she kept squirming and checking on the ring. They had been riding for a couple of hours already and there was still no sight of the end. The glittering light of the clairvoyance spell that sometimes appeared on the road kept leading them further and further east. They were already near the abandoned Fort Fellhammer.
Where was he? She got more and more worried by each second. It was excruciating. The horses seemed too slow, the men were all somberly silent and it all just made it worse. What if Bishop didn't get the chance to crush the ring? What if they took it from him? Anything could have happened.
This was such a bad idea. Such a stupid plan. Why did they ever go along with this? Why did they ever risk this? If something happened to him, Aeyrin would never forgive herself for not convincing him to stop this insanity.
She really missed Karnwyr right now. He would reassure her, let her know if Bishop was close or not. And he would always nuzzle his face into her legs comfortingly.
Now she just felt more alone than ever, even though she was surrounded by people.
There were ten agents total, but they only had seven horses. Some of them, including Aeyrin, had to share. She was kind of relieved – she wasn't great with horses and if she tried to steer one on her own, that would just delay them. But clinging to that stranger just made her miss clinging to Bishop instead so much more.
With another sigh breaking the silence, she dislodged her hand from the man's armor and looked at the ring once more.
But then, she felt like her heart stopped.
The light was gone.