"I really think we should get out of this place."
Bishop pointed out somewhat nervously as the whole big group of people kept hanging around that cave he had been held in. They were still plotting and planning. He would really think that this kind of dawdling would have been the cause of their extreme delay, but Aeyrin had already explained inside that cave.
Right now, he was being fussed over outside by Aeyrin and a Penitus Breton mage, who were both attempting to heal his shoulder. It was obviously a process and not just a simple spell. At least not one that either of them knew. Aeyrin said that there was nerve damage – it did explain why he still didn't really feel his arm. Well, maybe sparsely. It felt similarly to when that purple Shout from a dragon hit him so long ago near Whiterun. That was back when he wasn't even banished. It felt like an eternity ago, not just a year or so.
But this place was not a good one for this. Definitely not for standing around in a ripped shirt and with people trying to heal him. Not when the assassins could come back. This was just making him anxious.
Cicero had been tied up securely with chains and all. He had a gag in his mouth, on top of the silence spell and paralysis, and he was knocked out. Bishop still wasn't going to admit that he's not the Listener. Not in front of Cicero, even if he was knocked out. He could be pretending to be out of it, just like Bishop had. Not that it mattered much – the assassins would likely find out anyway. But in the small chance that they wouldn't, he could use that edge. If they thought he was this important person for them, maybe he would still not get killed. He wasn't really sure what was going to happen now.
He just wanted to get out of there.
"We're probably going to need to suspend it for a while. At least until we get him to a temple or something," the Breton mage sighed.
"It's fine. We should really go," Bishop nodded. The pain was numbed with potions and he didn't really care about much else. It would get fixed eventually.
"Maybe the Vigilants could help. They are on the way and…" Aeyrin pondered until Bishop interrupted her.
"We're not stopping. Not with a tied up assassin and his fucking corpse 'Mother'. I'm fine."
He really wanted to get to Dragon Bridge already, even if it was practically on the other end of Skyrim. And he wanted to pass this nutcase along to Maro and just… have him torture that guy or something and then find out where the Brotherhood was hiding and wipe them out like he had in Cyrodiil. That was such a nice and comforting thought.
"Right!" the man who always seemed to be in charge nodded. "We should go. Four agents stay here and wait until the assassins return. I don't have to tell you to be extremely careful when dealing with them. If you can capture them, do so, but do not take unnecessary risks and do not let them escape."
The agents looked around and at each other for a bit before a few of them stepped forward voluntarily. Surprisingly enough, it was six of them. But two stepped back after a while.
"Good," the Imperial leader continued. "Three need to go to Windhelm and get a wagon for that corpse thing. A big one. Erdiika… probably you. And two more," he nodded at the only Nord in the company. It was understandable. When it came to Windhelm, it was good to ensure that at least one person didn't attract trouble. Hopefully she would manage to find some clothes that did not scream 'Legionnaire'.
Two more people stepped up and then there was only the leader, the Breton mage and an Imperial woman left.
"Now, the rest of us will head to Dragon Bridge right away. Take our hostage in for the Commander."
Fortunately, there was no more dawdling. Two horses were left there near the grove, two were taken by the group heading to Windhelm while the sarcophagus waited for them nearby, hidden in the foliage, and the last three horses were going to be taken to Dragon Bridge again.
"We can discuss what happened on the way," the man nodded at Bishop.
That was… reasonable. But Bishop couldn't help but glance over at Cicero's secured body. That was the trouble with keeping people unconscious. You never knew when they could wake up and overhear you – just like he had in that cave. It was probably pointless to be cautious. All the assassins would find out very soon that he lied. They would go after him. He… he may have just made everything worse. But still, somehow, the moment Aeyrin showed up in that cavern, he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but hope that this would all work out somewhat favorably.
Was it that naïve? Cicero might crack under Maro's questioning – give him the Brotherhood's hideout or something. Maybe this could actually be over soon.
But he definitely shouldn't rely on that. It was surely Aeyrin's bad influence that made him so stupidly hopeful about it. This would all go tits up within a day. Cicero would somehow manage to slaughter all the Penitus agents and then the Brotherhood would hunt Bishop down and kill him at last. Yeah. That sounded likely. He should have settled for them trying to just capture him.
Then again, they would eventually get fed up with that and kill him anyway. There was no winning this.
Ugh, he really wanted to stop thinking about this. But it all still felt a bit unbelievable. He was really starting to think that this was it. That Aeyrin was dead. That nobody was coming for him. And that everything had just come together to ruin everything. And through all that, and now, when everyone was safe for at least a brief moment again, he still felt like he hadn't processed any of this yet. It was almost like it happened to someone else. Or like it was a dream.
Maybe it was the healing potions making him a little dazed though.
He barely even noticed that Aeyrin was wrapping his arm in some cloth sash she likely got from the others. He only realized that when she stood on her tiptoes in front of him to drape the tied up sash around his neck. He didn't feel that arm anyway so he wasn't sure why it should be in a cloth sling like that, but he didn't really question her on it. She knew better about this shit.
"You're gonna be fine," she planted a brief, reassuring kiss on his cheek when she was done. He kind of was fine already. He still wasn't sure if anything that had happened, and that definitely could have happened, really dawned on him yet, but most importantly, Aeyrin was alive and here with him. He didn't have it in him to be concerned about anything else at all.
Instead of saying anything, he wrapped his hale arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Even if he was worried about the arm, this would have definitely helped. He didn't really worry about it at all though. It was definitely the potions.
"Now look who's stalling," the Penitus leader smirked at them.
He was right. They needed to get going. Bishop didn't even really know how long he had been out of it after Cicero's 'punishments'. It could have been too long already and maybe the assassins would be quick to get into Markarth. Maybe they had horses too.
Their group moved towards the horses soon enough. The agents suggested that it would have probably been better for Bishop and Aeyrin to each ride with one of them, as Aeyrin herself admitted to not being a really experienced rider and Bishop had only one functional arm now, but the two of them wouldn't hear any of it. After all, Bishop was more than capable of steering a horse with one arm only – why would he even need two? And neither of them were really willing to part for the journey, even if it was just a pace or two away.
Bishop did need some help getting up into the saddle, but eventually, all of them were situated and ready for the long journey back to Dragon Bridge. It was nice for Aeyrin, being able to actually wrap her hands around Bishop instead of clinging to a stranger's armor. She had been so afraid that she would arrive too late. It was almost hard to believe that he was here now – that she could touch him, hold him. At least the journey would be long and she wouldn't have to let go for a while yet.
"So, are you ready to tell us what happened in there?" the Penitus leader prodded Bishop once the horses started to trot forth.
"Maybe just quickly," Bishop looked over to the man's horse where the stiff, unconscious body of the assassin was slung over the saddle, right in front of the agent. "I'd… rather wait… until we're… there."
"He can't hear you," the agent gave Bishop a reassuring nod when he noticed the direction of his gaze.
It wasn't that simple. After what had kept him alive in that place, he would probably never ever in his life assume that it was safe to talk around someone who was passed out. It was surprisingly easy to force himself to keep still in the first few moments when he knew what predicament he was in. And Cicero didn't even have that challenge to overcome – tied up and possibly still paralyzed.
Bishop only let out a sigh before he answered. He would rather not take risks.
"You'd be surprised."
…
The rest of the journey was surprisingly peaceful.
Though there was always that black cloud hanging over everyone's head. Dealing with the Brotherhood would possibly never make one at ease completely.
The horses ensured that they made it back to Dragon Bridge only shortly after night-fall. Otherwise they would have probably had to stop somewhere along the way for rest. That wasn't a great idea with the unconscious, paralyzed body they had been dragging around. He wasn't ever unconscious for very long and the agents had to knock him out a few more times throughout the ride. Aeyrin worried a bit for the man's health. Not really for that assassin's benefit, but without him as a hostage and the information that he had, this mission would surely not bear much except for traumatizing memories. Being hit on the head over and over and continuously knocked unconscious could have effects on him unless he was looked after. But the Breton mage insisted that she knew what she was doing when she was using her spells on Cicero every now and then – both the paralyzing ones and some that looked like restoration magic. It wasn't ever really easy to tell what one was doing with restoration magic, but she did look confident. And Cicero did wake up every now and then and he tried to wiggle out of his binds, so he was clearly able to regain his lucidity.
She just didn't want all this to be in vain. She really hoped that the Commander would have a good plan for how to proceed now.
Eventually, they made it back to Dragon Bridge. Lucky for them, not many people were still out and about when they did, but a few guards did throw their group a disturbed look, especially when they noticed the body on the horse. But they obviously knew better than to question the Penitus Oculatus.
It had been an exhausting day. But both of them knew that Maro would not let them rest until he had all the information from both sides of the story. And Aeyrin didn't really know what happened to Bishop either, what with him being too careful to talk around Cicero.
The talk was exhausting. It was almost like an interrogation, but neither of them were really unwilling to talk. Bishop's story was terrifying. If he hadn't heard the assassins speak while he pretended to be passed out, he would have already been killed. No wonder he didn't trust Cicero's unconscious state. And Gods, she could have really been too late so easily.
She really shouldn't be thinking about the what-ifs too much. What was important now, was the current plan.
But unfortunately, there was none.
Not yet.
Maro got all the information that he could. There was no more to tell. But there was still more to squeeze out of his brand new hostage. Hopefully Cicero would prove talkative again.
Bishop and Aeyrin were sent to the inn to wait. For one, Bishop needed a good healer and the Commander would send for one in the morning – that was only a few hours away anyway. Bishop just hoped that he wasn't sending for a fucking paladin. And, moreover, Maro also needed to regroup and see what he could find out from Cicero, if anything, and then consider the next plan carefully.
It seemed like they would be stuck in Dragon Bridge for a while now. And all that after being stuck in Morthal for so long.
Oddly enough, this time, it wasn't a bad thing. It wasn't something either of them were dreading.
Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was very naïve after what had just happened. But for the first time, they actually felt kind of… safe. Most importantly, they weren't purposefully separating any longer. That made both of them much more at ease. And also, the Penitus agents were watching them often. There was no chance that they would get out on the streets without being observed. Under any other circumstances, that would have been just annoying and infuriating, but now, it was an actual relief. Especially since they now knew for certain that these people really did know their shit. And they really did know how to handle the assassins. Maybe just not how to find them.
Not yet.
There were even agents present for Bishop's healing when, fortunately, a priestess from Solitude came to town to take care of him. They wanted to ensure that she wouldn't be a secret assassin, or some such, so they insisted on staying through the procedure.
Unfortunately, Bishop's shoulder was very badly hurt. The healing took care of the wound, but the nerve damage was extensive. The healer assured him that he would be alright eventually, but the arm needed time to heal and also some magical attention. The priestess agreed to come by a few more times – he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, but the healing would likely take longer. He still couldn't feel his entire arm at all.
After her last visit five days later, Aeyrin managed to convince the priestess to teach her the spell. For a hefty fee. Surprisingly, it wasn't a difficult one. It still took Aeyrin a while to get the hang of it, but it was much easier than the bone-healing one. Apparently it was a very weak internal tissue mending spell, but that was what was needed for his treatment – a long-term support for his own body's regeneration. But now, after several hours of attempts under the priestesses tutelage and with a significantly lighter coin-purse, Aeyrin would be able to take care of his treatment herself.
She was so happy about that.
Until she found out that Bishop was the worst long-term 'patient' ever.
She already knew all too well that he used to be reluctant to 'waste money' on temple healings and that all his injuries were always 'fine'. But that was kind of common for a lot of people. And her incessant prodding always worked. He never even questioned her constantly healing him after any little scratch anymore. But now she found out something she should have really expected from him of all people.
He was so bad at following instructions. She kept telling him to keep that arm in the sling. She kept telling him to stop trying to grab her with the hand he could barely feel. But he was like a kid. Especially in bed. He had no trouble staying on his back often enough, but now, suddenly, that was an impossibility. As if he had to prove something by trying to get on top of her and lean on his elbows. He almost crushed her with that stunt.
He was also instructed to only let the arm move on its own – no sharp motions when he got frustrated and tried to grab it with his other hand to move it where he wanted it. When he wasn't wearing the sling, of course, as if he did that just to spite her. He kept disobeying every little thing he was supposed to do. He wouldn't even hold still while she did the healing spell. Instead he kept trying to distract her and tease her.
It was like he wanted that arm to never move again.
Such a child.
But… it was really nice to be frustrated and concerned about something so… mundane. A petulant person resisting healing used to be like her bread and butter back at the chapel. It just made the world seem a bit more… ordinary. Not filled with enemies and assassins and dragons. Just… playful spats about an injury. They used to have these often back when they met, before Bishop resigned himself and let her do her thing.
Maybe he was doing this on purpose. Maybe for this very reason.
Besides the constant vigilance from the Penitus agents, it was the most normal and ordinary week they've had in ages. They just rested, enjoyed being together again, even though the abduction only lasted through the night, it felt like an eternity with all that stress and fear on both ends.
This week had been an actual reprieve.
Maro was calling them in every now and then, letting them know about how the interrogation was going. There was not much he said, but he reassured them that things were progressing and that he was piecing some things together. Even though his agents who waited near the grove for the assassins to return came back with no more activity near the place to report. The assassins never came back.
Then finally, after eight days in Dragon Bridge, Aeyrin and Bishop were called in once more. This time, however, Maro looked like he had some news.
"Welcome back," he gave them a nod when they appeared in his war-room again. "How goes the healing?"
"Don't ask," Aeyrin scoffed a bit, but there was an amused smile on her face nonetheless. Bishop was frustrating, but it was kind of adorable. It was even better whenever she actually called him that and he just complained and pouted in response.
Bishop smirked, oddly smugly, as he sat down on the prepared chair. He really did look like he was doing it on purpose. That was very stupid. It was his health.
But… granted, it was getting better. He was slowly recovering and he said that he could mostly feel the arm now. His mobility was still very off though.
"Did you find something out?" Bishop asked after they all settled themselves in the room. He wasn't really eager for more small talk. He really hoped that there was progress.
"Well… yes and no," Maro sighed. "Cicero is quite reluctant to speak and we are… reluctant to take drastic action we cannot take back, regarding the corpse. We need to learn more. But he does talk to himself often. Or maybe to the 'Mother'. I'm not sure. He mumbles and curses, but we were able to piece some things together. You mentioned that this… Astrid seemed upset with Cicero?"
"Kinda. I guess. She said she was hunting me and… the others, I guess, just to shut him up," Bishop nodded.
"Right," Maro smiled a bit. "Cicero talks often when he thinks we can't hear. We always hear, we have ears everywhere in our own headquarters," he scoffed. "Cicero thinks that they won't come for him. That they've abandoned him and the Mother."
"You think that's actually true?" Bishop scowled. They went through so much trouble to get Bishop to that Mother. But… maybe through too much trouble already. Still… they would be pissed off about the deceit, right?
"It's a possibility," the Commander nodded. "It's been a week and they made no attempts to get either back."
"They might not know who took them," Aeyrin pondered. It was not as if they left a note in that cave.
"But they'd know you're here. Wouldn't they?" Maro asked thoughtfully. "Word about your presence spreads, sometimes even if people aren't actively searching for the information. Wherever you are would be the first place to look. But there was nothing. We have precautionary measures around. We know a lot of their members already and we also strategically cast dispel incantations around the town to discover anyone hiding around. We watch everything. But no activity. They're either plotting how to get them back. Or they're worried about what Cicero might have already revealed and they are preparing to have their base attacked. Or… they left him here."
"I guess it's possible. But… that doesn't really help us, does it?" Bishop shrugged.
"It helps you, to some measure," Maro smiled a bit. "We have a plan for now. Not on how to oust them out, since… we don't know how yet. But we have a plan on how to make their activity significantly harder. And things are looking up for you two personally."
"So, what's the plan?" Aeyrin asked curiously.
"We now know what a few of the assassins look like. While you were waiting, we applied for reinforcements from Cyrodiil. Dozens of Penitus Oculatus agents are being stationed in most of the cities around Skyrim. Like I've mentioned before, the Jarls mostly cooperate with us, even in Stormcloak territory. They all want the Brotherhood out of the picture. The only ones giving us trouble are the Jarl of the Rift and Ulfric Stormcloak, but we'll see what we can do there. With that, the cities should be safer with special agents looking for the killers actively with a lot of information on them."
That was quite a comforting thought. It wasn't foolproof, by any means, but these men were likely much more capable of identifying the assassins than regular guards.
"Like I said, I'm not sure that the Brotherhood is interested in pursuing you personally now, after everything," Maro continued. "But, of course, they could be angry about the duplicity and just careful about approaching you while you're here. For that reason, the reinforcements were all notified that you are people of interest to the Brotherhood. They will be on high alert whenever you are in a city they're stationed at."
More scrutiny. But in this case, it was actually good. Maro never seemed actually interested in Bishop and Aeyrin's own activities – such as the reasons why the Brotherhood took interest in the first place. Hopefully that meant that the agents wouldn't interfere with anything illicit the two might have to do. Still, it was something to keep in mind, should it come to it.
"They can still find us in the wilderness," Bishop scowled.
"That's true. That's where we can't really protect you," Maro sighed. "I promise you, we will be working tirelessly to oust them out and get the locations of their Sanctuaries, but that will take time. I advise caution for now. But I can also provide you with two of those soul gem rings again, if you'd like. Just in case."
That was a good idea. It was a useful trinket. It seemed like their security would still have to hold up during camping. They have gotten quite decent at staying on the move, though it was more difficult to be at ease without Karnwyr to alert them about intruders. There was still one thing that kept nagging on Bishop though. It might not be so hard to find him in the wilderness.
"What's stopping them from using your own tricks? Like that clairvoyance spell. They could have marked me so many times before. And Aeyrin too," he frowned. That spell really freaked him out now that he kept imagining it being used by other people than a pesky courier.
"Oh. We can dispel that, if you like. Our mages are capable of ridding you of any marks," Maro smiled reassuringly.
"Poor courier," Aeyrin gave him a weak smile in return. Though it wasn't really that concerning. The man could surely find them again someday. For now, it was more important to get as much distance between them and the Brotherhood as possible.
"'Courier'?" the Commander raised his brow.
"The Imperial Courier Service," she explained. "They use the clairvoyance magic to deliver their letters. Maybe they just use it on travelers. You probably have them delivered here, I guess."
"Interesting. I didn't know that," Maro seemed to be pondering on something. "Did they ask to mark you?"
"No, we didn't notice a thing. Once we saw a courier cast the spell to find us in a… uhm… somewhere…" Aeyrin clarified. "We asked what he was doing and he said it was a clairvoyance spell."
"You didn't see the marking? That's… unusual. Perhaps an illusion to cloak the effect? Hmm… Tavien!" the Commander called out loudly and a Redguard agent promptly entered the room.
"Sir?"
"Contact the Imperial Courier Service. Tell them to send a representative. We have some questions."
"Yes, sir."
The Redguard disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared. It all sounded quite sinister. Maybe it was just the whole 'questioned' by the Empire thing that would make anyone uncomfortable. But when Maro saw their expressions, he quickly let out a dismissive chuckle.
"If they have ways to perfect the magic, we could certainly use it in our hunt for the Brotherhood. Though I suspect that they know the ways to dispel the marking too, it can't hurt to try if we get so lucky."
That was true. Though still, more people capable of marking someone subtly was hardly comforting. And who was to say that the Brotherhood didn't know this illusion magic as well? One dispel might not be enough for them to lose the assassins' trail if something happens again.
"Can other people dispel the markings?" Bishop asked. It would be useful to do that every now and then. Even if it made the courier's life, and their own whenever they were waiting for a letter, a bit harder. Keeping the Brotherhood away was more important.
"Yes. It's a common dispel magic. It has to be focused on a specific aspect of illusion magic, but it's a simple modification to the generic dispel that most priests are familiar with in order to remove malicious magical effects," Maro nodded. Bishop promptly looked at Aeyrin, hopeful that maybe she knew exactly what he was talking about, but she only shook her head wryly. She never got to dispelling magic. That was quite advanced for clerical training. But hopefully most priests would manage.
"We mostly suspect that the Brotherhood will be cautious now. I know it's no guarantee," Maro sighed. "I would offer you the same protection here if you wanted to stay longer, but… I can't imagine you would stand it for long. These investigations do take time. And this is the best we can do for you out there."
"It's better than before," Bishop nodded. It was definitely much better that they weren't all alone in this. They had a veritable army at their backs. It didn't mean that they were safe, but maybe a little safer. And who knew? Maybe the Brotherhood really would give up on him. He could only hope.
But it definitely felt a little better now. Let's face it, even before this all went down, he wasn't sure if they wanted to kill him. Each encounter could have them fed up. It was no more likely now than it had been before. Now he and Aeyrin just had a few more tricks in the arsenal. And someone to fall back on.
"I can't thank you enough for your cooperation," Maro nodded at them. "It has brought us closer than ever before. I'm confident that your ordeal was not in vain."
Aeyrin and Bishop nodded simultaneously. Hopefully he was right. But the past week already had been such a relief with how safe it all seemed. It was easy to be optimistic right then. Disturbingly easy. But just then, neither of them really had it in them to keep worrying. It's been all too much lately. This was a welcome break for the mind.
"Needless to say, if anything happens, please let me know. It would only help our investigation further," Maro smiled at them once more.
"Will do," Bishop nodded again. It was weird. He still felt a bit like a rat. Telling on some illegal organization to the authorities just felt… wrong. But these fuckers needed to be dealt with. Whatever it took. If he had to fraternize with these soldier boys, so be it. Besides, some people just needed to have someone hounding them in turn. Especially if it gave the two of them a reprieve.
"I suggest you take a carriage out of Solitude when you leave. In case the assassins lurk about, it would be the safest option – they couldn't keep up with a carriage," Maro pondered. "You know, just to take precautions."
That was a concept they were very familiar with.
And hopefully, while they were putting some distance between themselves and this whole mess, Maro would get somewhere with the interrogations.
…
"You know, I don't feel like you did a very good job here."
The Commander pondered as he looked at the corpse thoughtfully. It was just like any other corpse. Barely holding up under the layers of preservation. One tug would tear its arm off. One punch would crumble all its teeth. Even a strong wind might wreak havoc on it. But perhaps there was some magic involved. The jester, currently tied up in a chair and struggling angrily, was clearly a capable mage.
"It looks very fragile."
"She," the jester hissed. "And she will bring all the death and misery on you for taking her. The Dread Father will let the Void swallow you whole. Close the casket! She's not for you to see!" he screeched. Bishop wasn't wrong when he said the man was erratic.
"All I am saying is… it would be very easy," Maro smirked. "Your job is to keep her safe, isn't it? Do you think your 'Dread Father' will be happy when his bride is split into pieces, every finger, every toe, every hair. And those can all be sent to different corners of Tamriel. Some might even be destroyed, even if what you're saying is true and she is 'immortal', there is a purpose to you keeping this corpse from decomposing, isn't there?"
"The bully cannot understand Cicero's purpose," the jester snarled.
"'Bully'. Interesting. Perhaps I am bullying you," Maro chuckled. Sure, hounding a band of murderers for hire could be interpreted that way, if one tried. And if one was insane enough.
The man was certainly unpredictable, that was a challenge – his reactions often made Maro waver. But he was more than open with his emotions. It proved to be easier than expected to find things that ticked him off. Eventually, this would bear so much fruit. And he likely didn't even have to get his hands dirty. Cicero didn't really respond to physical threats.
This would be a long interrogation. Maro already knew that. But it would be worth it. His high hopes for this mission had panned out in more ways than one. A captured, actually talkative assassin. Not just any assassin. A member of the Black Hand. And what he believed to be that… Night Mother of theirs. Acilus had heard a lot about this entity during his investigations down south.
He had the sarcophagus left open in the interrogation room, just so Cicero could see that thing all the time. It wouldn't be destroyed. Not yet. Not until the Penitus Oculatus knew more about this particular corpse and the potential entity inside it. If this really was the Night Mother, they were currently holding all the cards.
Or at least some of them. From what Bishop had reported, some of the assassins weren't too concerned about their 'Mother' either.
His focus right now was getting more information out of Cicero about Astrid. From what they knew now, Cicero seemed to have the most conflict with her. It was the easiest first step. The one he was most likely to betray. It was a sound strategy.
Suddenly, a sound interrupted the momentary quiet in the interrogation room. The door opened, letting a little more light in than was usual for that dim chamber, and before Maro could even turn his head to see who it was, a voice identified the new arrival.
"Dad, I need to head out to Falkreath in a while, I was just…" Gaius spoke before he could look, but once his eyes caught the scene he had just walked in on, he fell quiet.
That was his son. Always acting before thinking. Acilus should have really restricted all access to the interrogation room – he should have anticipated that Gaius would be looking for him before he left on his assignment near the border. And he should have anticipated that his son would not really concern himself with the fact that just being in the interrogation room likely meant that his father was interrogating someone.
He loved his boy to death, but he could be so daft with some things while being so smart with others.
"My boy," Maro sighed. "You know you shouldn't be here." It wasn't exactly a rule. Sometimes more agents interrogated a hostage. Sometimes people came in with reports. But the Commander especially hated when Gaius barged in like this. He didn't want these dangerous people, this deranged lunatic, to know who his son was. To see his face. It was a risk Maro hated exposing his boy to.
"Y-yes. Sorry… what is… what is that…?" Gaius's eyes were fastened on the open sarcophagus, staring at it in horror. It must have been an odd thing to walk in on, true. A tied up jester and a displayed corpse. It was hard to explain. And perhaps dangerous to explain too. Especially with Cicero conscious in the room.
"What? I don't understand… what? Did it just…? What?" Gaius continued to gape at the embalmed body in shock. He had seen plenty of death already in his line of work, but this scene must have really confused Maro's boy. It was best if he left.
"Son," Acilus let out another sigh, urging his child to leave.
"I… uh… wha…" Gaius stammered. His eyes finally stopped focusing on the corpse, but instead of leaving or even acknowledging his own father, the boy looked over to the tied up jester in shock. Cicero was probably less disturbing than the corpse, but not any less confusing.
Cicero's angry stare disappeared in a second. It was replaced by a myriad of emotions in the span of only a moment. He really was easy to read, but the context eluded the Commander now. First there was the hate, then uncertainty, realization and a gasp of what seemed like pure joy. What in the Eight's names was this assassin planning?! He better not be thinking about how to get to his boy!
"I… I should go, dad. Say goodbye to… people. I'll talk to you again later, before I leave," Gaius mumbled hurriedly. He finally realized that he wasn't in a good place to be seen and he turned on his heel.
It was… fine. Cicero wasn't getting out of here anyway. Maro would make sure of it. Even if he had to kill this bastard right now and give up the best chance at a lead, he would do it. Anything to keep Gaius safe and away from the Brotherhood investigations.
His boy would be just fine.
"Son, son, bully's son," Cicero giggled. "Talks a lot and hears a lot. It all makes sense now. And the tricks gave Cicero a gift. The real one. Mother always provides."
"Don't get your hopes up," Maro scoffed. "My son is not involved in our operations against your depraved group. He knows nothing. And you're not getting out of here anyway. The only question is, what happens to your 'mommy'."
Cicero's gaze went towards the corpse again and this time, he didn't look worried at all. He still looked disturbingly happy as he spoke.
"Cicero thinks that Mother will be very proud of him."